Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Galactic Alliance: A Little Bit Fancy

The speech was nice enough set Cyril at ease. At least there was some sense of purpose to this party. Initially he had not intended to stay very long, half an hour perhaps? That was until Shlurk took his speeder, and all hope of being free from awkward stares and even more uncomfortable conversations went with it. He watched the rest of the bar in silence, nodding at both [member="Chevu Visz"] and [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] as they made their way in. Chevu he knew on a purely professional basis. He wasn't going to bother the girl. Jacen was somewhat the same, to an even lesser degree.

What would he even ask them? How was the weather going? Ask what kind of oil they used to polish their lightsabers?

The Jedi Master grumbled, and turned back to his drink. He'd made eye contact with an Ithorian across the room. That momentary locking of eyes had turned Cyril's face a stark red, though it quickly returned to its usual complexion as he sipped his fruity drink. Then Miss Acreneau and her date made their was to the bar. He knew Danger on the same level as he seemed to know everyone here: professional. He wasn't going to bother. Occasionally his gaze shifted back to [member="Coren Starchaser"] and his lady friends, though that was only borne of a mild interest in the characteristics of one of the Alliance's big faces.

Then the Ithorian was starting again. Cyril returned it this time. The alien looked more than a little amused at the Jedi Master. Cyril's visage was very much the opposite.

"What?" He mouthed. The Ithorian chortled, and continued to stare. Then his Twi'lek associate was staring, too. With a quiet huff, Cyril turned back to the bar, and asked for another drink.

Was it the way he'd dressed? No, it couldn't be! Jedi robes were respected back home. On Ession, he went to all his formal occasions in full bathrobe regalia. Naboo had been much the same. Perhaps he should not have worn the tuxedo shirt? No, no, that was the highlight of his outfit! The shopkeeper had assured him people would think he was funny and carefree wearing such a thing.

Of course, he'd probably just been lying to make a sale.

Cyril set his hands against his temples and muttered a string of quiet curses. It was so hard to shop when you didn't have to pick out a wardrobe for the better part of fifteen years. Was he really so out of his depth? He was only just on the cusp of his thirty-fourth year.

It seemed tonight was going to be very long indeed.

[member="Spark Finn"]

[member="Mya Jesel"]
 
[member="Alen Na'Varro"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Liam Quez"] [member="Cyril Grayson"] [member="Mya Jesel"]

Face soured at the bartender. She hacked into and stole an entire space station and now she couldn't even get a cosmo. "Really? It's not like I look as young as that kid," chin tipped to the broody Liam-kid on the other side of the bar. The bartender shrugged and seemed to not give a bantha-chit anymore, slapping down a Nabooian-cider in front of Spark. At least this worker listened to the speech his employer, Na'Varro dude, just gave.

"Mya," she offered the newcomer her own hand, gulping away any uncomfortableness with social touching. "Spark Finn." She grinned, blue eyes rolling a 360 at Coren. "And that's Coren. Apparently it's harder to fight sith than get a drink sometimes."

#justwantedacider

She took a swig of the cider, still clutching her comm in one hand.

She addressed Coren and Mya. "Do you guys know all these people? Like, who's that guy?" Thin-finger pointed to [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] a few spots down the bartop. The Underground had been such a small, close-knit group. This crowd was a bit overwhelming for the mostly introvert.
 
Party Hardy; Five-Oh Creepin'

Throughout even the least extensive intelligence channels known to the galaxy, the Galactic Alliance's formation was more than apparent. It was a governmental system that hadn't graced the galaxy in centuries, not since the ancient Yuuzhan Vong wars and the following conflicts between the new galactic power and the last remnants of the Sith and Imperial warlords. Wherever the name of this Alliance was uttered, history was made and Agent Foster nearly choked on his stimcaf and doughnuts when he got an offer to check it out.

This wasn't official police business per se, merely just an intelligence gathering scheme that had seemed to be working so far. He went by his usual credentials albeit leaving out the part about him being a Special Enforcement Agent.

"I want to dance, pretty boy. Let's hit the dance floor."

An almost unnoticeable earpiece bore the voice of that artificial girl, and Marcus could practically see her mischievous smile as she planted both hands on her hips and cocked 'em to the side. "Don't wanna step on ya toes, m'lady," he replied with a mock-gentleman's accent, adjusting his attire.

He was swathed in garments that made him look like some fella from the Backstreet Boys, or one of those flyboys who liked to wear bomber jackets and aviators. A rogue-ish guise garbed his frame as he lingered about the edges of the gala. The bar looked enticing enough to give it a second glance before finally moving for it.

"Lonely drinkin'? Hot."

"Right?"

[member="Cyril Grayson"], [member="Spark Finn"], [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
 
Hope is the elixir of life. (semi-retired)
Russo checked the chrono again on the desk next to her bunk. She was running late and not because that was in her nature. The starfighter pilot had decided to run one more simulation and well now the brunette was scrambling to get ready for a date; the kind where one gets all dressed up to go do special stuff. [member="Damon Riggs"] had asked her to go with him to the Galactic Alliance's First Gala Ball, which was at some general's home on Sullust. Must be nice and big to accommodate everyone.

Alex was excited to do so with him. Since joining up with the rag tag faction, the two lovers had had little "us" time. She knew it was hard on Riggs since before signing up with the military again, they'd basically spent every day and night together when they were smuggling. Now each were off doing what they did best; that was Riggs commanding his ship and Russo flying with her squadron. The separation was the hardest and not knowing how the other was doing. It is what it is though, and the military couple would have to do the best they could making the most of their time together when it could happen.

The knock at the door almost startled Russo as she was bent over at the mirror putting the last touches on her lightly made up face. Luckily for the Taanab, she had a little black dress in her belongings just in case something formal came up. One could never go wrong with one of those. One last look at her reflection in the small mirror inside her footlocker noted a stray chocolate-colored strand of hair had fallen out of her up-do. A quick tuck job was done, then the tall cabinet was closed and the door to her quarters was opened.

"Why hello, Captain… Sorry to keep you waiting. Oh and you brought me my favorite rose. How sweet," Alex smiled sincerely at his gesture, then she pulled the Coruscanti inside the doorway to give the handsome fleeter a kiss. One that had been long overdue.

"Mhmm You certainly clean up well, and sure know how to spoil me. I'll just put this beautiful flower in some water and we can get going. How was your day?"
 
Riggs jaw hit the floor and his eyes bugged out of his head when he saw Russo in her dress. His immediate thought was to lock the door and get her out of the dress as soon as he could. The man was desperate to be with her again. Riggs was on Russo withdrawals as the life they lived previously saw them together as if they were married. It had been that way for a while. Honestly Riggs had to do something before anyone moved in on her. For a guy who used to think no family, he was sounded like a mad man in his own mind, but he was in love, very much so.

The kiss, well that was deep, long, slow, and extremely passionate. Riggs returned it, and melted into it. Overdue was an understatement. How long had it been? Too long if he had to think about it.

"After that kiss, much better," Riggs said with a wide Cheshire grin. "Might that be a down payment for later?"

Eyebrows waggled. The two were a passionate pair, and loved as passionately as they had feelings for each other. He watched as she put the rose in some water, and waited for her to take the few steps back to him. His arm was offered.

"You look marvelous, Alex. If this wasn't some big wig General, I'd say let's blow this thing and have our date night out. We really need one of those. Just us, no uniforms, no duty. You and me, being us."

Riggs shrugged.

"Gotta admit though, it feels good to be running a command again. Just different."

None of that answered the question as to how how day had been. Riggs wasn't going to avoid what he thought, not with Russo. She was his lover and best friend. It was a great combination to be sure.

"You ready?"

[member="Alexandra Russo"]
 
Ula whistled as she entered the party. This place was fancy. She'd managed to find a cute blue dress to wear and now she was hoping she would make a better impression here than she did at the Jedi gathering. There were a lot of new faces in attendance here, looked like the whole of the Galactic Alliance was coming out to drink and dance and do whatever else it was that good people did.

She missed the guys on the Daytripper, especially Capt. Richards. He had been a father figure to her when she needed one. Her being here in the Alliance was all him. If he could see the people in this room, he'd just smile. He used to joke with her that the Daytripper was what she did while she hid from her true calling. She wasn't sure that it was calling yet, but so far, the things she had seen and heard made her feel like she had made the right choice. There was a great vastness to the galaxy that you can't get until you spend a few years traveling it. It was all connected, it was all separate. These Jedi got that. They helped people. They fought for them. Ula wanted that sense of belonging. She'd had a taste of it for a little bit and now she wanted more. She hoped, with everything she could muster, that this would be it. A home.

With a long look around, she verified that she knew absolutely no one here. But it was a temporary situation. Time to break the ice.

She headed for the bar, ordered an amaretto sour and looked around. There were a couple people standing nearby, and they looked about her age. With her drink in hand and a deep breath, she stepped over and introduced herself.

"Hi, I'm Ula Kaddo. This is some place, eh?" She smiled easily at the small group, the music picking up but not too loud for a conversation.

[member="Marcus Foster"] [member="Spark Finn"] [member="Cyril Grayson"] [member="Mya Jesel"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
 
"You wouldn't believe the amount of crap these old biddies put into personal vaults. It aint like they are going to be using it, hoggin' up all the wealth if you ask me for. What does a ninety year old woman need a half-million credit necklace for anyways? Hell, the old bat would probably tip over due to the carat weight. That reminds me..."



Judah found himself staring at the crumbs of crab cake in the mans beard as he talked. Instinctively his headed nodded at all the appropriate times, a few 'hms' here and here. That crab cake though. After this he was never going to be able to enjoy the ones his wife made ever again. Shame.


Turning at his name, Judah took in his new savior, [member="Kelly Perris"] . Time to make up something on the fly.


"Excuse me...business to attend to....."


He met the man half-way, shaking the Incom CEO's hand. This was their second meeting, the first back on the Arceneau Trade Station above Sullust. Speaking of, the flame haired Trade Queen should be drifting around somewhere. He'd have to search her out before the nights end.


"Perris, you're a lifesaver. I trust all is well with you since our last meeting?"
 
Hope is the elixir of life. (semi-retired)
"Maybe… " was Russo's playful answer to the question about a down payment for later. It took all her will power not to push [member="Damon Riggs"] down onto her bunk and do with the handsome man as she pleased. But they'd waited this long, a few more hours would only make their reunion that much better. And she planned to stay with him all night long too. The Flight Commander had pushed off Rapier Squadron's tactical session until late morning so plenty of time to recover from the activities of the night before and the morning of knowing them.

Alexandra walked over to the window ledge in her quarters and a picked up an empty Frappuccino bottle. The brunette filled the clean glass container with some water from an open water bottle, then placed the rose stem into it, and set the mag-shift vase on the desk after taking a nice sniff of the fragrant lavender flower.

"Thanks, Damon… You don't look so bad yourself," Alex replied, then nuzzled back up to him and pressed another tender kiss to his lips. She slipped her ID, iComm, and lip gloss into the Coruscanti's suit pocket after quickly reapplying it, then took his offered arm with a happy twinkle etched in her brandy-eyed gaze. "I'd like that… Just us two like the old days. And yes, ready to mingle so we can mingle."
 

Ibaris Varanin

Guest
Receiving an invitation to the new home of [member="Alen Na'Varro"] was of all things, a surprise. She hadn't heard hide nor hair of the old man in more years than she could count on one hand, at least. What wasn't surprising was the thought of going to a party - Force knows she'd been to more of those before the age of ten than most people would attend in their lifetimes, back when the Fringe Confederation was still a thing and she was still much too young to join her parents in the things that often took them away, much less being old enough to go gallavanting amongst the stars, alone.

A benefit of those early, formal and less-formal experiences was that she had learned from an early age how to dress herself to suit most any situation. Her preferences of dress were perfectly clear to any that spent a good deal of time with her - comfortable, nonrestrictive, easy to move in - and most of those with whom she had forged relationships in the past several years had never seen her in anything but. Suffice to say, [member="Liam Quez"] hadn't seen her in anything but her daily selections either. She hoped to whatever gods that his eyes didn't pop out of his head and roll across the floor, based on the assessment of how he acted when she wasn't all dressed up in something like, oh, the strapless, knee-length, deep red dress that was on her now, accompanied with a grey shawl in a complimentary shade, and matte black kitten heels. Her hair was down in blonde waves about her shoulders, another thing that didn't happen all that often, anymore. A look in the mirror before she'd left the Peregrine to come to this shindig really set in stone just one thing: boy, did she look exactly like her mother. Not really a bad thing at all.

Her coat was taken at the door, leaving her with a small bag hanging on a loop strap from her wrist. She looked over the gathered, searching out Liam, only to find his attention taken up by a green-skinned woman. She smiled for herself, leaving him to it - she'd come find him later - and went to see if she could grab the ear of the host. A reunion of sorts would be welcome, and as she made her way to this one of many that she'd grown up around, she noted how he didn't look all that much different (a bit older, perhaps), but that he felt quite a bit different. He was... lighter, to her senses..

"Mister Na'Varro," she said, approaching, "It's great to see you."
 

Liam Quez

Guest
So it seemed no one took pity on me and I could tell that the blonde girl at the bar who was currently nodding my way was probably making fun of me. Rude, why were blondes always so rude. Frowning, I put my drink on the counter and waited for a refill on my juice. At least the juice kind of looked like an alcoholic beverage. It was times like this that I wish I was blessed with the Force, I could wave my hand and make the bartender give me whatever i desire. Abuse probably and Ibaris would probably scold me.

Again, why were blondes so rude.

The juice was quickly refilled and I took a few sips I kept glancing about the room until someone made note of my existence. Eyes locking with the green girl in front of me I blinked a few times and tried to register in my head that someone was talking to me, mostly all it was doing was going.

Girl. Green Girl. Cute girl. Talking. Is she flirting with me? Talking. Girl. Girl. Girl. Does not compute. Evacuate the premises. Shut down. Girl. Girl.

Her hand was stuck out towards me and my body finally reacted. I took her hand and shook it and continued to shake it as I introduced myself. “Liam Quez, nice to meet you Chevu.” I didn’t know how to have manners so I just kind of took my hand back after the shake. Glancing around, I continued to try and think of something to say. Honestly the only thing going in my head now was if this girl knew Kaia Starchaser...if they were in cahoots and plotting to take over the galaxy.

Invading alien race of hot girls...I’m onto you all.

“Company would be nice, the old geezer behind the bar won’t give me anything fun to drink so I’m stuck with juice. If only my je-je-je-je-” Speaking of the girl I was going to mention in my sentence, she walked in looking NOTHING like the girl I knew, the one that tried so hard to keep me at a distance. A dress? Was she seriously wearing a dress? Heels? Hair down? My lips found the end of my straw and I continued to drink until the sounds of the straw sucking nothing but air echoed for a solid 2-3 minutes. I couldn’t believe that she had never dressed like this before, I mean I never took her out or anything, but still! Don’t all girls dress up here and there?! I remembered I had company and I looked back at her now, with my face puckered slightly from chugging all that juice.

“I have a forcer friend, I would have tried to convince her to do that hand wavey thing they do. The one that convinces people to do what they want. Its kind of cool, I’m jealous.” My eyes narrowed slightly and if I could, lasers would be beaming at Ibaris. Looking towards Chevu from the corner of my eyes I smirked. “Are you old enough to drink? What are you drinking?” I wanted booze, I think I kind of needed it - at this moment I don’t think I’d be able to talk to Ibaris, not with her looking like that.


[member="Chevu Visz"] [member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]
 
Arm in arm eventually became hand in hand as the two lovers walked into the fancy house. Too many people were schmoozing the owner, so Riggs and Russo went for some of the light foods one would expect at a fancy party like this. Gods Riggs hated schmoozing the big wigs. He was a fighter not a suck up, but that was just it, he'd always proven his worth in battle. Even when smuggling the captain had made it count when it had to.

Riggs nodded to the host as he looked for a familiar face, sadly for him, Russo was the only one. About now he missed Jenkins. The Corellian always knew how to help Riggs have a good time. Too many times the man lost credits on the charms Jenkins had. He'd never been a hustler, but he had a way with the ladies. Right now it was him and Russo and Riggs. They were good, but Riggs missed his friend.

"How about a drink for Torch and Jenkins. I wished they were here. Then we can mingle."

[member="Alexandra Russo"]
 
"Force be with you, [member="Karen Roberts"]. I hope to fight with you again, this time at your side." Alen nodded deferentially to the other Master, and watched her take her leave. Spirited woman, she was. A fierce potential ally.

The bearded man smoothly relieved a passing caterer of a glass of red wine and took a chance to survey his little party. Yes, things were going well ... thought it was all a little too tame for his tastes. He'd have to insert himself forcefully into the party to lift the mood. Maybe he'd challenge [member="Danger Arceneau"] to a drinking game, or one of the many Masters in the room to a feat of strength. It was time to turn this evening into a proper old-fashioned shindig.

"Mister Na'Varro." He turned, and barely recognised the young woman standing in front of him. Taken aback, he tried to reel in his surprise. Little Ibby Varanin-Jacobs, all grown up. "It's great to see you."

"Hey kid!" he said, remembering Ashin and Spencer's little tyke who used to be not much taller than his knees. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen either of Ibby's parents for some time. Gone was the persona of lord-like Na'Varro; in his place was scruffy old Uncle Alen. "Call me Alen.. All this 'Mister Na'Varro' crap makes me sound like a gorram schoolteacher."

He thought about ruffling her hair, then decided against it. Like it or not, she was an adult now, or close to it. Damn, Na'Varro felt old. This was one of those moments when he realised he wasn't a young man anymore, and that his best years were long gone. He was trying to change with the times, but it still wasn't easy to admit that he wasn't as quick as he used to be, or as strong. It was kids like Ibby and his daughter and that Aela Talith youngster that were going to be carrying the torch soon. Na'Varro wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

"You've got Spencer's taste for fashion, I see." He grinned. "You got Ashin's taste for swordplay?"

[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]
 
A lot of time had passed since last Kaili put any effort into proper socialization. For a while her primary focus had been droids and when it wasn’t droids, it was maintaining droids for ‘the Covenant.’ Even worse was that when it wasn’t maintenance for a defunct galactic player it was studying, and as far as Kaili was concerned that left very little room for ‘socializing.’

She had Kaia, she had Micah and she had the rest of the Brat Pack, she didn’t really need much else. Well, perhaps that was not true, she certainly felt anxious about her upcoming appearance at the ball. Would Cricket be there, or maybe even Mara? Maybe both? It was a whirlwind of uncertainty and excitement and in its epicenter stood the lone Talith kid as she hit the switch for the loading ramp to let the fresh Sullust air whip at her face.

Her hair wasn’t turned into a fancy hairdo nor was she sporting her snazziest of dresses. Such things were for Aela or mother to enjoy, Kaili was merely there for the appertifs and free drinks, really. Her short-cut hair was left to its own devices to prevent the girl from side staring at people and her LAA uniform had gotten it’s arms neatly folded up to the point where it hugged at her upper forearm. That meant a casual roll, right? Above the elbow was for work, below the elbow was for casual?

Something like that, it didn’t matter.

Deep breath.

“Okay, you got this, Kai. Just... Talk to people.” The girl took the first step off of her ship.
 
The boy, Liam, greeted Chevu with a smile almost too wide for his face. She smiled in turn, realizing it was probably the first time she'd done so in months. He was cute, and excited. His energy was almost...intense, but she liked it. Liam asked if she was old enough to drink. Chevu was stumped for a moment. What was the drinking age on Sullust anyway? It's not like they had a full bar at the Pirin temple.

"I'm twenty," the Mirialan told him. "But this is just tonic water." Looking down at her drink, she shrugged her green-skinned shoulders, then pointed to his glass of what was obviously fruit juice. "Some of us have make sure people don't make fools of themselves, right?"

Liam indulged Chevu in some small talk until a blonde girl walked into the room, then his attention was pulled away by the pretty girl's unavoidable undertow. It was clear that they had some sort of history, much like many in this room. His mouth hung open so widely, she was tempted to reach out and give his chin a little tip upwards.

"She's pretty. Who is she?"

The alien girl smiled and tried not to feel so, well, alien.

[member="Liam Quez"] [member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]
 
These sorts of affairs were always out of his comfort zone even during his years at the centre of the Republic, but it was his task to don the formalities and take a look at this ‘Galactic Alliance’ that had formed on Sullust. The first of his order Belis had arrived in an unmarked shuttle and taken the attire of a more casual profession, his reputation within the Galactic Republic still known enough to allow him ease of passage through the gates to the Na’Varro estate.

The Supreme Leader had spoken to him personally on the matter. “Investigate this Alliance massing on Sullust. Your removal of yourself from the Jedi pretenders will not be common knowledge as yet my friend.” The command had been simple and well thought out, yet as with anything the Supreme Leader stated it had two sides. “While there search down these rumours of our traitorous Final Order. See to it that they see their final days.”
Belis had risen from his kneel and laid his eyes upon their Supreme Leader. “It shall be as you wish my Lord.”

There were people everywhere, most happily engaged in conversation and giving Belis no second glance as he moved past. He blended in well here, his betrayal was still fresh and his dark path not easily seen by those who claimed to have the gift of insight.
“Excuse me?” A voice recalled Belis from his advances through the crowd. “You look awfully familiar?”
“I have one of those faces.” The man who questioned was a former soldier from memory, Belis having served on Dubrillion, possibly with him. “Belis Toobin, Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic. I’m here to pass on our respects to the Galactic Alliance.”
“Ah yes, it’s great to see someone representing the Republic here.” The soldier clasped Belis on the shoulder. “You’ll want to speak with [member="Coren Starchaser"] or [member="Alen Na'Varro"], I’m sure they will spare the time for a Jedi all the way from Onderon.”
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to—“
“Oh look, I’ll introduce you.” Before Belis knew it a shout was raised and more than one eye was on him suddenly.
 
If Cyril could not have sensed the void in the force, then he liked to think he would have at least recognized the man's mannerisms. There were only a handful of folks in that sort of state outside of the Yuuzhan-Vong, and most of them were died. Experiments done by the Republic to replicate the Dread Guard program that the Confederacy had put into the works so long ago. The results had been impressive, but funding was cut early, and some of those poor folks found themselves with inhibitor chips in their heads. Those that remained within their motherland's borders were little more than slaves these days.

Cyril knew most of them on a first name basis.

He turned his attention to Marcus - a man he did not recognize by his given name, but his title. He paid little heed to the others at the bar; mingling and doing whatever else it was that normal people did at these functions. He wanted to speak with one of the few souls in the galaxy that he had even the weakest of bonds with.

"Pappy?" The Jedi Master asked as he strolled around folks to get to Marcus. "You left the Republic?"


[member="Marcus Foster"], [member="Spark Finn"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Ula Kaddo"], [member="Mya Jesel"], [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
 

Alric Kuhn

Handsome K'lor'slug
[member="Danger Arceneau"].

He smiled slightly. "Well, she can get in line."

The Ducha had been a little too friendly actually. In another situation he may have tried to take advantage of that, tried to do something with it to get Vanir Technologies ahead. Yet that thought brought him no joy right now, and in fact it likely wouldn't have gained him all that much in the end anyway. He shook his head, frowning slightly as if a thought had passed him by. His eyes fell on the waitress, and he smiled at her as if she needed his attention the most.

"Whisky." Alric said, looking at Danger with a wink. "Neat."

There wasn't any question of brand, at least not at events like these. He supposed the Galactic Alliance, or rather whoever was hosting tonight, had either sprung for some of the best or the worst. Either way there was hardly ever a choice of drink at one of these events.

It was one of the things that annoyed him.
 
Coren Starchaser was sometimes a trouble maker. But he was also on the right hand of the Supreme Commander. That meant he had dossiers. Which meant he knew a lot of people. Mya, he figured that was who it was, but that whole Spark Finn girl, she was some complete wild card (not really, but he could pretend, just to tease her.) “They just don’t know who I am in this household yet.” Did Na’Varro know him in this timeline? He wasn’t sure. But what he was sure of, this was a good get together, branching the government, military and Jedi. The movers and shakers of the galaxy.

The new kids on the block.

Who was that guy? Right… Now it was time to get something moving. Nodding his head in Jacen’s direction for Mya and Spark to follow, he grinned. Slapping the Jedi Knight on the back, sensing that he was going to be pulled away for a moment, and a shame, that, Spark in a dress? Yeah… Yeah.

“Haaaave you met, Jace?” He tossed Spark a wink. Besides, the Jedi needed to sink or swim, really.

And he could sense, barely, the pair making a line for him. Joy.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
[member="Spark Finn"]
[member="Belis Toobin"]
[member="Mya Jesel"]
 
[member="Alric Kuhn"]

Danger's lips would twitch in a smile at his memory. It was one of the few skillsets that didn't appear to wane anytime soon. Eidetic memory. It could be a boon or a curse, based on one's matter of opinion and the context of the receptive party.

With her drink currently being poured, Danger would trail her attention back onto Alric. "Not getting anything for yourself?" One glass would get him drunk, but there were other options one would hope besides water. A low ball glass was set in front of her, and a second later, amber liquid would slosh onto the glass. Three fingers worth. Danger gave a smile, and a low murmur of thanks.

Fingers curling over the drink, she drew it closer to her. A pan of her green eyes would commence the usual survey of the attendees and persons of note. It was automatic, she couldn't shut it off.

Off in the distance she could make out their host [member="Alen Na'Varro"] talking to a blue haired woman ([member="Karen Roberts"]) before she retreated to the powder room. There were three other young women and a man by him ([member="Chevu Visz"] [member="Kaili Talith"] [member="Liam Quez"] [member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"].) Who else was there? Definitely new faces, none she could... wait.

Off to the right, beyond the din, the profile and mop of brown hair would prompt a genuine smile, rare as it was out in public. [member="Judah Dashiell"], CEO of Salacia Consolidated. Well I'll be...

Their relationship would set holotabloids in a dizzy. There was always some sort of rumor or gossip going around seeing as how often they worked together. However, it had originally only been business. Things changed when [member="Makai Dashiell"] stole the Queen of Trade's heart with his cherubic smile. One Expo Auction and the sudden gifting of a company to the younger Dashiell set in motion a most curious start to their friendship. One Danger genuinely was fond of.

Pleasantly surprised at his attendance, she wondered if he was itchin' to get involved with the Alliance? Perhaps she would find out later on.
 
Drinkin'

Marcus hit the bar in record time. It was some upper-scale, high class stuff with lots of high shelf with lots of wines, cognacs, and bourbons he had never seen before - even as a man who liked to have his fill of booze on an off night. After a few moments of speculation and even more spent cringing at the price of most of these, he settled for one of his all-time favorites; Corellian Whiskey. Hard and tasty, just the way he liked it.

"Good stuff. Nice choice, Mister Foster." Miranda sounded a little pomp and ladylike in his ear, to which he grinned at.

The Agent hid the grin behind a light swig of the alcohol as he heard a name called out - one that he hadn't heard in years. His metallic eyes shifted across the room instantly and landed upon the obvious Jedi striding towards him. His features seemed familiar and the very presence he bore felt like one of his old brothers; strong and determined. However, Marcus didn't know this man whatsoever.

"Already identifying him."

"Pappy," he feigned a puzzled look as he drew nearer. "Where did you hear that name, sir? And more importantly, who might you be?" His voice was low enough to not be heard by anyone in earshot, that is unless they had mystical powers to allow them to.

Again, he sent a surveying glance around to see if anyone had noticed their situation.

[member="Danger Arceneau"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Alric Kuhn"], [member="Cyril Grayson"], [member="Belis Toobin"], [member="Chevu Visz"],[member="Kaili Talith"], [member="Alen Na'Varro"]
 

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