Arriving with those of his forces who had participated in Bastionfall in tow, the Warlord of Carlac graced the rebuilt stairs leading into the once blood-soaked mouth of the newly claimed fortress. 'Fortress Imperator' he had been told, it was to be renamed. Not the most creative, and he had certainly voiced his thoughts about that at the time, but it would suffice. At least it wasn't some mock of carnival now, however, fitting The Vulture considered it to be after his first impression months ago. With each of his strides up the stairs, the excessive layer of golden jewelry strung around and hanging from his neck clinked and rattled against itself, giving him something to focus on beyond the annoyance he felt towards the name situation. In the grand scheme of things, was it really such a big deal? Absolutely not. Did that mean he would be able to process it and let it go as a normal person would? Absolutely not. It was likely he would be hung up on the fact until he actually died of old age.
Perhaps that was a bit dramatic, he considered.
No.
No, it was not.
"Anyway, yes, you all are free to be social and make merry and what have you. We will rendezvous with our transport after this whole thing is over with. I have no idea when that is, though I will disperse the information as soon as I acquire it. Do keep your communication devices handy." He briefed The Carlaci and Doom Division Corps flanking him quickly, giving them the rundown of the situation before they entered the fortress and would likely be washed away by the tides of bodies, and drowned in the clamor of voices. The formation wasn't much of a formation at all, really. Everyone, save for the handful of volunteers he had extended to help secure this event, donned their military uniforms; the special variant for The Carlaci Corps, of course, being solid white with a fur-trimmed half-cape draped over the right side. "You are all free to leave at any time you wish after The Imperator speaks."
Nods of acknowledgment and murmured affirmations cued his swift and informal dismissal of his few dozen troops, who all dispersed into different directions in search of merriment and familiarity. All save for the one he expected to be struggling, of course, and she seemed to be frozen in place. She just needed a little push is all. And that's precisely what Halketh did, shoving at the cyborg from behind and vanishing back into the crowd in a heartbeat to fetch himself a flute of champagne.
"Sir, are you sure you don't wish for us to accompany you?" The all-too-familiar voice by his side made him start, jolting to the left with the sudden remembrance of the woman's presence.
"LIEUTENANT!" He gasped, clutching his gaudy necklaces like pearls, "I forgot you were there."
"Yes, well, it is our job to be here, my lord." The woman snorted as she reached out to grasp the arm he still positioned against his chest, only to tug it away and give the cuff a hefty jerk, smoothing it out. Her hands soothed the edges before returning to herself.
"Oh yes quite, esp- oh thank you- sure as a matter of fact. You and the Corporal should go have some fun. Make some friends. Be social." He twisted his head in the woman's direction, causing the dark gems bedded into his eye covering to flash and glint in the light of the open chambers, "I intend to do the same, hopefully, though I have my suspicions." Some manner of grey, undefined motion coursing by his left caught his mind's eye, and swiftly his hand zipped out to grasp the delicate stem of a champagne glass as the server drifted past. Success!
The Lieutenant before him narrowed her eyes, folding arms beneath her plated bust soon after, "You're always suspicious though. But, I'll indulge you. What is it this ti-"
"This is going to be used for shady dealings." He cut her off and took a curt, obnoxious sip from his glass, "You know. Back rooms. Besides the-" a hand reached to wave in idle gesture back and forth as the words evaded his grasp, "-statue ripping or whatever it is going on there. I did also witness a vision of the entire fortress being collapsed on top of us, killing everyone save for those in the lower levels." Of course, this was punctuated by another, equally loud and irritating sip.
"Right. Well." She cleared her throat, shaking her head softly. She wasn't sure if she agreed or disagreed, to be honest. Mostly though, she found herself unable to entertain him by feigning care for much longer and thus: "Keep your commlink online, alright? If you need us, scream." His tone in delivering the second half of the message wasn't particularly damning nor urgent, and she was not alarmed by this would-be revelation simply for that fact. If Halketh thought that vision was likely, he would have warned the others and not attended himself- it was as simple as that.
"Very loud, yes, I shall." The Vulture snorted into his glass, waggling fingers towards her in a mocking, teasing wave he paired with a devilish smirk, "Go away."
After he had been left alone, he set about his lie, sneaking off as best as he could manage given his status. Those he couldn't avoid were sated by half-hearted conversation and languished courtesy the Warlord was certain to purge from his consciousness the very second he turned away. Far, far too many questions were being asked of him, and the more honestly he answered, the more he was targeted further. Apparently, "because I felt like it" and "because I wanted to" were not answers many of these people could readily accept. Halketh wondered what they had expected from the man who was as notoriously anti-social as he was.
It had only been a half-hour and he could feel his heart drilling away at his temples. "Excuse me, but I'm going to go literally anywhere else, okay? Bye bye, now."
Finally, after more dragging minutes dodging bipedal landmines roaming the main floor of the party, The Vulture broke himself free and found the stairs. A moment's pause lent his focus to listen, and when he heard only faint voices drifting down the spiral, he decided to venture forth. Soon, Halketh stepped out onto a balcony, the height of which he was vastly unsure of, though he sensed a familiar presence closeby. One which he had always found more tolerable than the others, especially where Imperial Assemblies were concerned. A man who had values not unlike his own. "Ah, Lord Dooku." The Vulture announced himself politely, choosing to keep his tone mostly friendly and warm- a far cry from the stern detachment he was oft known for around the debate table- "Searching for solitude or may I linger in your orbit?"