Faction Sons of the Empire

[Hall Mannarra]

Fortress Imperator | Bastion
181st Armored Division
Keylee Linth

White-gray smoke billowed from the kid’s mouth and nostrils in the wake of a sigh. He slowly drew away the cigarra from his lips as he leaned over the railing before him. His eyes, widened and glistening with noticeable unease, stared at the bustling city that stretched as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t the first time he was out of his element. One way or the other he had dealt with it, but none of his past experiences really came close to this.

He had always dreamt of seeing the galaxy with his own pair of eyes, to get the hell away from the backwater-of-a-planet Ord Thoden was, but he never imagined he would see the crown jewel of The Empire; the Bastion.

Let alone walk the halls of the Fortress Imperator.

”You got this… You got this,” he said to himself, as he raised a hand and massaged his brow. Eyes closed, momentarily detached from the reality surrounding him and alone with his thoughts, the young man took a moment’s respite to relax, and get a grip. He’d just have to stick around for the upcoming ceremony, and then he could leave; perhaps for a walk, see the city for himself, and maybe buy a gift or two to send back home to Kyla, and Miria.

A sense of resentment to none other than himself rose from deep within at the remembrance of his sister and mother, respectively. ”Kark me…” he hissed angrily at himself, shaking his head slowly. He hadn’t sent them a letter ever since his first ever deployment on Dubrillion. He had to make up for that one way or the other. With a sigh the kid nodded at the notion; the first chance he got, he’d go home, pay them a visit, and stay there for as long as he could before he needed to go back again…

Back into war.

"So tell me; you don't look like the type for parties." Charidot said towards Hall Mannarra

Calmed down for a moment, but still lost in thought, the young lad hadn’t paid any mind to the crisp patter of a pair of well polished boots walking towards him, but when the voice of a middle aged man reached his ears, only then the young Corporal opened his eyes and turned his visage to see the features of the man (Abeodan Charidot) standing beside him.

One brief glance at the man, the same height as him, had told him all he needed to know. Eyes widened once more, the young lad flicked off the barely smoked cigarra in his hand down the balcony and stood in attention in the Admiral’s presence, in one swift motion. ”N-no sir, Admiral, sir,” the young Corporal truthfully said in response. He hadn’t been to a party before. He sure as chit hadn’t been to one that could even begin to remotely resemble this one, ever.

He could feel the anxiousness rise within him once more. What little peace he had found by himself, was swept away in the presence of the Admiral; it had nothing to do with the unexpected company of the man, but more so with the immense gap of rank between them. One could not fail to sense the air of authority surrounding the Admiral. As a simple enlisted, he did not fit into this environment; not at all. He did not belong here for sure, like the Admiral hinted at.

”My sincerest apology, Admiral, sir, but I must excuse myself if I may,” the young Corporal said to the man before him; sharply raising his hand -fingers and thumb extended and joined palm facing down, and the tip of his forefinger on the rim of his black tanker’s beret slightly to the right of the eye; the outer edge of the hand barely canted downward, with his hand and wrist held straight as a razor, the elbow inclined forward only slightly, and his upper arm horizontal- the young tank crewman gave the Admiral a crisp, textbook salute. Following his salute of the rank and once the man returned the respectful gesture in kind, the young man lowered his saluting hand, performed a well executed about face like a well oiled machine, and walked back into the gala at a relatively calm pace, belying the growing anxiety within him.

Back inside, the young man silently looked around the gala hall, contemplating as to what to do next. He assumed it’d be best to find a corner somewhere and just lay low, by himself or with his brothers-in-arms when they arrived; perhaps get a drink and a nice meal to go with it in the meantime.

But stay under the radar, as best he could.

It wasn’t long after he entered the hall again the kid laid eyes upon an individual similarly looking foreign to such an environment. One glance at the woman trying to get a drink for herself, he remembered she was the one he had accidentally bumped into as he tried to get to the balcony to catch a smoke and relax. It probably would be for the best if he actually apologized for that instead of leaving it at a half-assed sputtered apology.

And seeing as she also appeared to be sharing the same tension he harbored in himself, perhaps they could help each other to get through this ordeal.

With a curt nod of his head at the notion in his mind, the young tank crewman sprung into action. Acquiring the attention of a waiter going about serving drinks, he soon got in the possession of two glasses filled with an alcoholic substance he was not at all familiar with. Although he had drunk some before in his life, it looked nothing at all like the stuff he usually drank. Nevertheless, he could certainly use the pleasant mellowing effect of alcohol to calm himself.

Spotting the woman amongst the crowd again, he approached her with the drinks in his hand after carefully making his way towards her in the crowd of officers, government officials and the waiters serving them. ”H-Hello!” he greeted her. ”I saw you-” He would see she had already gotten a drink for herself once she would turn to look at him. <Ah, well… Chit.> the kid thought to himself. She had already gotten a drink; but regardless of the missed opportunity, the young tank crewman would quickly and cleverly rebound from the brief yet awkward situation. ”I saw you too late when you were at the food table, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” he said putting on a good face, with a faint, heartfelt smile emerging from his clean-shaven features, despite the visible unease within him.

”I’d like to apologize for that mess. Would you accept this drink as a peace offering?” he jokingly said as he extended one of the glasses of drinks towards her. Undoubtedly, bumping into her caused a small scene; he had seen the large food stain over the lily-white cloth by the large food-table while he got the drinks, after all. He hoped the kind gesture and the apology would suffice to make up for that.

 

[Margo Liaeris]

STALKER

Objective: To the Empire!
Location: Bastion - Fortress Imperator
Tags: Hal Vaiken | Kriegan Tavlar | Castor E-196 | Lily Stevens | Leto Karazyn | Katja Javik | Kav Canthar | Ruaridh Aodh | Aschwin Vethres

Like a Ghost

‘Well, this is different...’ Margo thought to herself as she entered the reception hall within the Fortress Imperator on Bastion. This was the first time she had been granted an invitation to such a venue, in actual fact. Despite her neatly pressed and starched dress-black uniform, as well as the myriad of others here similarly dressed, she felt a touch out of place regardless. Perhaps it was because her job had placed her in situations where she was constantly caked in grime, sweat and blood. But now, her hair was actually clean, and done in such a way wherein the first concern was not ‘will it fit under my helmet.’

She strolled through the mingling crowds, scanning for faces she recognized within them. It was hard not to allow her mind to drift back into the mindset drilled into her and her companions, even in such a formal setting as this. Instinctively, her mind focused on where the most immediate paths of egress were located, how one would position themselves for the most effective killzone...

She shook her head. She was not here to kill an enemy target - no, she was here to... enjoy herself. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she found it hard to avoid getting lost in the midst of this whole affair. Thankfully, her gaze would fall upon the familiar faces of her squad, scattered around the bar area. Sarge drifted in the middle of the crowd, keeping an eye on the rest like a force-damned mother hen despite himself. A faint smile lined her features, as it seemed she was not the only one who found it hard to separate herself from the norm. Katja was seemingly involved in... very intensive conversation with Kreigan, and Leto & Kav had nested themselves in their own corner of the bar; doing their damnest to catch up to the rest of those in attendance while ‘people watching’ in between gulps. She had half a mind to sneak up to the complete-opposite end of the bar to secure her drink and hopefully escape notice from the new guys. She held no personal grudge against either of them per se, particularly Leto. Kav on the other hand... tried too hard.

It was plain to see he was his own biggest fan, and thought himself the epitome of comedy during high-stress situations. She had begun to see why Lily was so hard on her in the beginning, with her unbridled enthusiasm upon joining the squad. Perhaps she was being unfair to the new heavy, but in all honesty - she didn’t really care either.

Speaking of Reaper, Margo spied her further down the bar, engaged in a brief exchange with a man in civilian clothes, and an older gentleman wearing regalia consistent with... a Knight? Over the past year, Margo and Lily had developed a bit of a rapport with each other, despite never really having the circumstances to share that drink with one another. It was through that rapport (and also partially because neither Margo nor Lily were very good at hiding their thoughts with their facial expressions) that Margo had discerned that Lily might be appreciative of some... assistance.

With a measured gait, Margo closed the distance to the bar, and cleared her throat to get the attention of Lily and company. “Beg your pardon, sirs -” Her tone was apologetic, but bearing a firmness of purpose as she directed her attention to Lily. She put the most serious expression on her face that she could manage: “Sergeant Stevens, our CO wants to speak with us. He said it was pretty urgent.” Without leaving much time or opportunity for anyone to object, she nodded her apologies to the two men and helped guide her friend from the bar. It was only after the fact that Margo had realized she didn’t bother to get herself a drink first.

’Frak...’ she mentally chided herself.

 

[Keylee Linth]

Tag: Hall Mannarra | Open for Interaction
Location: Fortress Imperator | Bastion

The young girl stood by herself, having only just sipped at the colourful drink in her hand, which probably cost more than everything she owe, then again, being a cadet, she didn't really own much. Standing in her own thoughts, Keylee failed to notice the clicking of boots making their way toward her from the side.
When someone then actually spoke to her, she realised it was directed at her and turned to face non-other than the tall, but really nervous young. He was probably even more nervous than her being at a gala like this as the paleness was still coloured on his face.

"Oh, hi" greeted Keylee back sweetly, giving the nervous corporal a friendly smile.

Seeing the two drinks in his hands, his stammering and extra layer of awkward nervousness in his introduction, was his attempt to apologise for bumping so rudely into her when she was getting food. Listening to Hall explain himself with a soft attentive smile, she waited for him to finish his apology.

It was a very sweet gesture of him and it only made Keylee's soft smile form into a cheerful one, "Thank you, that's very kind of you sir, but it's only food" said Keylee with a small lighthearted giggle and accepted the corporal's peace offering.

Now standing with two drinks, one in each hand, Keylee suddenly was unsure if she should just leave her original drink somewhere, or find a waiter. She was not about to leave the drink Hall offered and continue with her first drink, that would be very rude to the handsome, though awkward man beside her.

Instead, she took one more sip of her original drink and walked with quickened steps over to a table to place the drink, for then to return beside Hall with the drink he offered her. Her smile turned into that of slight worry and tilted her head ever so slightly so her braided hair glided from her right shoulder to her left.

"Are you okay?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep.
​

 

[Leto Venau]

Kav Canthar Katja Javik Kriegan Tavlar Siyndacha Aerin

​

In response to the remark made by the heavier soldier, Leto afforded little more than an amused huff. He continued to sip at the cold beer, remnants of froth found on his upper lip albeit taken once the bottom rose to wash it aside. As it were. Leto let his stare continue to fall over the trio in the middle of their new drama, as Kav may have announced it to be, able to find some form of odd entertainment in the scene; morbid as such entertainment was, provided the circumstances. But as the stim stick burned low, left to singe ever closer towards his fingers, Leto almost offered something of a frown.

An odd sight.

"I wouldn't," he dimissively responded rather candidly with a shrug. For a man on his seventh beer, it was no wonder that Kav lacked a particular insight into the cause for distrust; poor self control, seemed to be the answer, though not like Leto could talk. His mind wished it was overcome with stimulants and substances, to enter a world of his own, far from this most horrid one. Suits and ties, rank bars and dresses. Imperial beuracracy, these events felt as if they carried noxious fumes that slowly poisoned him. Left to rot and die with black lungs. He finished the last of the burning stick, what remained left to be snuffed out on the bar itself as opposed to the ash tray mere inches further from it. Granted, Leto never turned back to the bar to do so.

His attention was swayed by Kav's attempt to do so, the sight of a Fel neared and Rancor opened his mouth with what became a blunder. Leto chuckled heartily then finished the rest of his beer, a refreshing exhale accompanied the slap he gave on Kav's unusually large back. "You embarass yourself some more, I'll be back in a few." Leto said with a grin, "I'm gonna go score something."

The stormtrooper strode across to the three with all the arrogance his lengthy career afforded him, smugness beamed off of him as if a blinding light. He nodded towards Tavlar and looped an arm around the SCAR medic, "Katja, honey, long time no see. How about a drink, eh?" He motioned to leave and forcefully with her, a hand gripped on her bicep after it travelled around her back.

Halfway towards the bar, with eyes set forwards Leto started to speak softly, "I'm low. Get me more stims, will you? I'll buy a drink for 'em."

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

Grand Moff Korvan​

Objective: For the Empire!
Location: Fortress Imperator - Bastion
Tags: Abeodan Charidot | Open

Although today’s festivities were meant to be cause for celebration and mirth, Ignacious knew better than to let his guard down here of all places. For every smiling face directed to him, there would be yet another person all too willing to stab him in the back. But for now at least, such backbiters were decisively beneath him. Today, he would ascend to a level not seen since the dissolvement of the warlord era. He would enjoy looking into the eyes of his rivals as he accepted the accolades. He strode through the crowd of Imperial nobles and officers alike; donned in a stately and modest Imperial-gray/green uniform. He normally wore a neatly pressed white uniform, but given the promotion he was to receive, thought it best to at least lend credence to a sense of modesty. Of course, those with vitriolic opinions would not be sated from whatever means he thought to take. Speaking of which:

"It was irresponsible for the Grand Moff to fire the weapon against our own forces whether intentional or not. He should be demoted for that disaster. It has become clear that the Galactic Alliance is more formidable than we gave them credit for even with them being caught up in the Maw Corridor"

The words were low, and clearly not directed to him, but they were overheard nonetheless. A very slight grin lined his features as he paused and turned his head to the trio of officers involved in the conversation he had overheard. Admiral Charidot, and his command staff. The... 400th Taalmsha, if Ignacious’ memory served him correctly. Oh, he would enjoy this.

As Admiral Charidot made his leave from the other two officers, Ignacious approached the pair with an overall posture of calm aloofness. “What a small galaxy, isn’t it... Rear Admiral?” The Grand Moff would wait for the Rear Admiral’s attention to snap to the sound of his voice, after which he would continue: “I couldn’t help but overhear your commentary over the events at Ilum... tell me, Rear Admiral... were you there on Ilum?” His eyes locked with the other man’s a predatory glint within them as he kept his icey smile locked on his lips. “No? Oh of course, your fleet was elsewhere, while the finest of the Empire fought - and died to secure vital resources for the war effort.”

Korvan held his gaze with the Admiral, refusing to give an inch. Whether De'Gura cowered in fear or not made little difference to the Grand Moff. If he thought himself a better officer than Ignacious, then the Grand Moff would certainly afford him the opportunity to demonstrate it. “Perhaps it is time for you to demonstrate what you can do then. I will personally see to it, Rear Admiral - that you and your fleet will be assigned to the warfront on our next offensive. Then immediately redeployed after that. And again after that. Maybe then you’ll prove yourself worthy of the rank you hold, rather than criticizing those who have earned what they have thus far. I will observe your progress with... great interest.”

To his credit, the Grand Moff had skillfully manicured the skill of being extremely passive aggressive without making it inappropriately obvious. The Rear Admiral would certainly get the message, or as Korvan intended - die choking on his words, in battle, aboard the ruined hulks of the 400th Taalmsha. “Good day, gentlemen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must reap the fruits of my labors. Perhaps one day you will experience the same...”

At that, the Grand Moff took his leave and made his way toward the bar, cloak billowing behind him.

 

[FN-999]

This page is intellectual property of the 908th Legion

​

Location: Fortress Imperator
Interacting With: Castor E-196 | Katja Javik | Leto Karazyn | Orik Dakari | Open

In any other event Orik would immediately start to go into 'event security' mode, but today Orik just looked bemusedly as he walked up.

"Bucketheads never change."

"You could say that again." replied FN-999, chuckling lightly.
​

Perhaps it was the drinks, or perhaps it was confidence in the civility of the MP. For whatever reason, FN-999 hesitated to put his helmet back on. The usual fear of assassination was still there, and there was no imaginable situation in which the colonel would take off the rest of his armor. But for the moment, he took the risk of being helmetless, his bald, sculpted face visible for all to see.

"To think that these guys have been in the Corps for almost half a decade, but still have the pure bliss and joy of their teenage years. What I wouldn't give to be one of them right now."

As FN-999 took the moment to lament, he noticed a burst of commotion nearby.

A group of young men and women who he quickly recognized as members of the SCAR Squad had arrived at the bar, swarming among themselves. He observed as the elite commando group degenerated into a drunken throng, his bemused grin returning as they frolicked among themselves.

"Good thing you're around, Sergeant Dakari." remarked FN-999, his expression turning devious. "If they start beating each other, I'll hold them down while you work your MP magic. For now, though, let's not stop this. I think it would be interesting to see how they react when we pull up."

FN-999 rose from his seat, gesturing for the MP to follow. Leading the way, he walked towards the table where the SCAR troopers sat, his helmet tucked under his left elbow. They too would bear witness to his rarely seen face.

"Good evening to you all." remarked the colonel as he approached. If you're all done shooting your shots, we'd like to join the legendary SCAR squadron for a drink."​

 

[Kav Canthar]

R A N C O R
THE EMPIRE
AT THE BAR
ALLIES: Hal Vaiken | Margo Liaeris | Lily Stevens | Leto Karazyn | Katja Javik | Kriegan Tavlar | Siyndacha Aerin
ENGAGING: Alcohol + Zorah Fel

Kav glanced over as Leto commented about Sarge's - likely - opinion regarding trusting them at the event, to which the large man offered a chuckle, then sighed as he rested against the bar again. Then Leto decided to leave, headed toward the bar-drama, which made Kav curious - he wondered what possessed his squadmate to willingly venture into that mess.

As the other left, the Ragithian glanced down to the discarded stimstick that Leto had ashed on the bar. With a smirk, Kav picked it up and put it into the ashtray nearby, then wiped the smudge from the bar top with his hand, before he turned his attention back to the brunette in the navy-purple dress. There had been a response from her about her being capable of getting her own drink, to which the Ragithian nodded and took a mouthful of his own. The fact Kav's rank had been used to address him wasn't unnoticed, either; though it was difficult to return the formality, since there was no evident rank to see on the dress.

"You bet, ma'am," Kav said as he offered a cheers with his glass, though remained to his own personal space, and noted the odd choice of drink from the other. "Malt milkshake? Not something a bar hears ordered everyday, I'd guess."

Across the way, Kav spied a tall sentient, as Margo caught his eye. She didn't seem amused - by anything, really - and made a beeline toward others in SCAR away from the Ragithian. Kav glanced to the individual in the navy-purple again.

"Just to clarify, I understand this is a formal event, lots of brass handin' out pins and stripes," Kav said as he set his beer down and watched the bartender make the milkshake. Curious, really, but to each their own. "But when someone wanders over to the bar, basically right away? There's probably a reason..."

Kav raised his eyebrows.

"You interested in some bar talk, ma'am, shootin' the chuta? Or is that too informal?"

She hadn't offered her name, Kav wasn't going to ask.

Ma'am it would be until otherwise informed.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
FORTRESS IMPERATOR - RAVELIN - BASTION
Kriegan Tavlar | Katja Javik | Leto Karazyn

A FAINT QUALM FOR THE FUTURE​

"I do hope that's not some veiled offer to dance. But something tells me dancing in Echani is something far more bloody."

She took another pull from her flute, and an amused 'hm' followed, "Not at all," she said with a shake of her head, on the subject of dancing. His assessment of what she might have meant wasn't too far off, however... she had maintained the forms of her martial art almost religiously from the outset. Some nineteen years now.

"Hardly expected to be back in Ravelin so soon," she replied frankly, then sighing, "but far be it that I don't respond to such an invitation with my presence."

Torn between Empire and that eventuality. That blood-mandated obligation. She emptied her glass, holding onto it for the moment as she monitored the coming and going revelers, until spotting at least one other familiar face - Zorah Fel , her first true friend in the entire realm, and her father. [ She looks good, ] Siyndacha appraised, within. Not the first time she'd seen her fellow Errant in a dress, of course.

When Kriegan spoke of how little he was able to come home, how coming to the gala was an excuse to do just that, she could almost envy his state of mind in it. It wasn’t that she didn’t have some fondness for Ravelin - rather, quite the opposite. This was where she had started to find her identity. Self-determination. Something she believed in. She didn't want to have to leave it all behind at some as-yet unknown date.

​

"After the festivities are done, I can probably show you a bit more of Fortress Imperator if you'd be interested...it's been awhile since I've walked these halls..."

A reiteration of an earlier offer, that she'd not had the chance to give a response, at the time - the mission took precedence over their discourse. In all the years she had lived in the city, she had only seen the fortress from the outside, and couldn't deny that she sometimes wondered what it was like, within. Moreso early on. "I would..." [ ...like that, ] her words trailed off in her head, a reply interrupted by the arrival of an unfamiliar (to her) face; it was rather immediately clear that she and Kriegan were already acquainted. The rather subtle tension wasn't lost on her. A shared glance with the Second Lieutenant beside her, and her own brow crept upward with his nonchalant response to the blonde.

[ Oh, I see... ]

Aerin smiled cordially, offering her free hand for a shake to greet the Hapan blonde - she had to be Hapan, right? Such effortless beauty. "Siyndacha Aerin," she said, "Knight-Errant - recently assigned. Seems Ilum created a need." But just as soon as she said this, another guy, presumably from the Hapan's own unit, approached under the pretense of a drink. Aerin blinked, her brow furrowing, fingers curling as her hand retreated and the much older male put an arm around the other woman and began to drag her away. "Ah..."

Nice to meet you? Her head canted by the smallest measure to one side as she watched them. She frowned.

"...hm."

Maybe the blonde wasn't Hapan? No self-respecting Hapan woman would let herself be handled like that, as far as she was aware.

​

 

[Adera Vellas]

Location: Fortress Imperator, Bastion
Tag: Melvain Braxis Marcus Bastion Kanollic II Vethres

Melvain bowed his head in respect. "Thank you," he said, "But you catch me at a disadvantage miss..."

"Oh please allow me" Marcus intervened "Moff [IMG alt="Melvain Braxis"]https://www.starwarsrp.net/data/avatars/s/27/27297.jpg?1642819447[/IMG] Melvain Braxis may I introduce Moff Adera Vellas Adera Vellas . One of the more… generous members of the Moff Council"

Adera gave a tired smile and nodded.

"You flatter me, Moff Bastion. I appreciate your comments during the meeting."

"Moff Vellas it is good to see you in a more social capacity" Marcus greeted the fellow Moff respectfully "I regret that your counsel was ignored so readily. Your proposals were altruistic and would have done many in and for our Empire a great deal of good."

"Still perhaps not all of your sentiments were discarded. I know you to be aware of how important it is for the Empire to maintain it's dignity on a public level. Events like this not only establish loyalty but acknowledge deeds of honour. I hope the meaning of this event will help establish the honour of our Imperial Troops in the face of adversity and send a clear message of unity not just within the Empire but to those who would stand in opposition to us."

Canned words of unity, yes, but not unneeded. Whatever her disapproval of the triumvirate's decision, the disagreements could not be allowed to be seen by the outside, or by those that looked to the Moffs for leadership.

"I understand the need for discretion. Worry not: whatever the triumvirate's decision, I will oblige and carry out my duty."

"I hope that I am not too late to join the party of Moffs. Moff Bastion, Moff Braxis and Moff Vellas. Moff Vethres of Bal Talmshaa" He said with a friendly tone towards them leaning on his wooden cane to provide support for his elderly body as he introduced himself to them. "I will personally apologize for not appearing at the Moff Council meeting due to medical problems."

"Your health is more important, Moff Vethres. Without it, one can hardly serve the Empire."

Adera sipped from her flute.

"In any case, you didn't miss much of value."

"It would appear that we would be forming our own Moff Council here and now" Marcus joked amiably "Your absence was to our loss I'm sure. The Empire could have used a man of your wisdom Moff [IMG alt="Kanollic II Vethres"]https://www.starwarsrp.net/data/avatars/s/29/29746.jpg?1658402275[/IMG] Kanollic II Vethres and of your valor Moff Braxis at that table."

"Indeed." Adera could not keep the sourness from her voice. No doubt the Tarkinists had planned the timing of the meeting to coincide such that those who would disagree would not be able to attend.

"On that topic, what are your opinions on the decree, Moffs Braxis and Vethres?" Blunt and open. These two could respect that.

 

[Castor E-196]

Master Sergeant Castor E-196
Imperial Navy Special Forces Command; Attached to SCAR​

Objective: enjoy the gala : )
Tags: SCARFAM: Lily Stevens Kav Canthar Leto Karazyn Margo Liaeris
Others at bar: Ruaridh Aodh Aschwin Vethres Zorah Fel || FN-999 || Orik Dakari

Castor waved at Margo as she headed towards the bar.

"Good evening to you all." remarked the colonel as he approached. If you're all done shooting your shots, we'd like to join the legendary SCAR squadron for a drink."

Castor swiveled on his seat as he received his free drink, no thanks to Kav, of course. Stormtrooper, scarred, helmet under his arm. An MP in army dress uniform was beside him.

"Of course! We would welcome the company. I think?" Castor looked over at the others at the bar for confirmation.

 

[Orik Dakari]

Sons of the Empire
908th Legion, 303rd Forward Security Battalion, 1st Company, 1st Platoon
Location: Fortress Imperator, Bastion
Objective: Mingle, wait for promotion
Equipment: nice uniform
Tags: FN-999 Katja Javik Leto Karazyn Kav Canthar Lily Stevens Margo Liaeris Zorah Fel Ruaridh Aodh Aschwin Vethres Castor E-196​

"To think that these guys have been in the Corps for almost half a decade, but still have the pure bliss and joy of their teenage years. What I wouldn't give to be one of them right now."

Orik could hear the tone of lament in the older man's voice. He'd done some reading on the Legion's commander- ISF and MP clearance was not to be discounted- so he knew, on the surface, how much Nines missed his youth and whatever peace he might have once known. But hearing it from the man himself, without his stoic helmet, was something entirely. He wondered if he too would feel this way when he got to his age.

"Good thing you're around, Sergeant Dakari." remarked FN-999, his expression turning devious. "If they start beating each other, I'll hold them down while you work your MP magic. For now, though, let's not stop this. I think it would be interesting to see how they react when we pull up."

"Discretion is the better part of valour- as well as discipline, as the old Policing instructor used to say." Orik watched the special ops soldiers. He'd not interacted much with their type in his career, though the reputation of operators to be a law unto themselves was obviously known among his vocation.

"We'll see what they're like."

"Good evening to you all." remarked the colonel as he approached. If you're all done shooting your shots, we'd like to join the legendary SCAR squadron for a drink."

Orik gave a friendly smile to the operators. They looked a bit taller in person outside of their armour.

 

[Katja Javik]

THE EMPIRE
SCAR SQUAD
FORTRESS IMPERATOR
Kriegan Tavlar | Siyndacha Aerin | Castor E-196 | SCAR Squad pull up skrr skrr Lily Stevens | Kav Canthar | Leto Karazyn | Margo Liaeris | Hal Vaiken

​

Her gaze shifted between the pair for a moment, observing their body language for any clues as to what she had walked into. Even with Kriegan's approval, she didn't feel fully at ease but she returned his smile politely. "I think so. Well... it's definitely a new experience." She replied vaguely, still unsure whether she found it enjoyable or not. It wasn't her typical scene but that didn't mean it was all bad. "The food is great though. A little decadent but I suppose everything is after you've had rations for a few weeks."

After exchanging pleasantries with her associate, her attention turned to his companion whom she expected him to introduce but with no such luck. "I bet it did." She responded to her comment on Ilum. No surprise that the Empire would reinvest in its own Knights after the events of Ilum. Her reply prompted a brief moment of pondering. Was that how they knew each other? Was she assigned to the 501st? She had several questions and equally as many suspicions.

Katja turned her head towards the presence that appeared beside her. "Um..." She barely began to answer. When she realised what he was doing, she quickly interjected to the pair she was with, politely. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" She asked before being pulled away. "What are you doing?" She asked with no anger in her tone, only confusion, but the answer soon became apparent. "I see." She sighed.

"Sarge said no stims, Leto. I don't have anything on me." She replied, calmly, not exactly seething to have been pulled away from the conversation. She would need a few more drinks before she wanted to contend with that. "I'll buy my own free drinks but thanks for the offer." She smiled, amused.

Upon reaching the bar, she ordered two whiskeys and downed one before the second had finished being poured and then repeated with the second glass, followed by a sigh. Her gaze shifted to the sound of Kav's voice nearby and a smirk grew on her lips. "I didn't take Kav to be a smooth talker." She commented.

​

 

[Cosimo Demici]

THE ELDEST
THE EMPIRE
FORTRESS IMPERATOR - RAVELIN - BASTION
Jan Beroya | Enzo Demici | Pietro Demici

“So all in all, things are improving…” he spoke into his comm, “...despite losing so many Alliance customers? Good, good.”

Far be it that Cosimo Gaspare Filippo Demici avoids any and all work, even with such an infrequent family gathering. But good news is good news.

“War makes people drink, Beppe, and gives them plenty of reasons to. Simple as that,” he glances towards his wife, Contessina who is giving him the look of disapproval; he holds up one finger, a plea for one more moment, “Yes, yes. I’ll be sure to visit soon. I must go. Give Adriana and the children our love, hm? Yes, I’ll let her know. Ciao.”

Ending the call, he looks to Contessina, “They insist that I must visit the vineyard,” he says, “that we must,” he clarifies, leaning in and dropping peck on her cheek, “thank you, my love. I swear on my life the infernal thing is off, now.”

He looks to the other members of his family, his gaze landing squarely on his uncle, Pietro, and makes his way over without hesitation, bounding up the steps… clipping Enzo upside the head along the way with a well-practised hand, “I heard that,” he growls - insulted on his wife’s behalf - then turns his attention fully to the Cardinal, beaming, “Uncle!” and embraces the older man, landing a light peck on each cheek. All before Pietro has a chance to answer Raina’s question. Stepping back, he peers at the holy man, “Speaking of mass, how is the wine, Uncle?”

Cosimo knew well the vineyards that supplied the Ashlan Church. Some of the best Serennian labels and vintages. The server winds back around and Cosimo lifts two flutes from the tray - one for him, one for Contessina. So considerate.

​

 

[Leto Venau]

Katja Javik Kav Canthar Lily Stevens Margo Liaeris Hal Vaiken Castor E-196

​

Leto breathed with an annoyed touch, all too visible in the eyes. His next hit from a stim was due, the rush that made one feel invincible. But on Ravelin, here and now while surrounded by what amounted to an Imperial's wet dream, Leto could make do with that filth Reedug. Hit was a hit, and his body had been filled with more than enough poison, what was one more dose? "If Sarge ordered you to bark, would you?" He rebuffed frustratedly, though another exhale seemed to have calmed him. "I'll get your clinic pass off you later."

He said as much as if it was a done deal already.

Upon their arrival at the bar, Leto opted to order more drinks. Far from the nature Katja's own, a drunken stupour was hardly to his liking. He watched Katja consume both her orders with a thin-lipped smile, impressed. "You were right to think that," Leto answered once the glass left his mouth, "She already turned him down."

His attention fell from Kav and onto the one recently escaped a den of drama. "So what's all that," he nodded over towards Kriegan and the Knight, "Kav says you and the Tavlar kid bumped uglies. Is she the new plaything?" Leto asked as bluntly and carelessly callous as one could imagine.

 

[Katja Javik]

THE EMPIRE
SCAR SQUAD
FORTRESS IMPERATOR
Kriegan Tavlar | Siyndacha Aerin | Castor E-196 | SCAR Squad pull up skrr skrr Lily Stevens | Kav Canthar | Leto Karazyn | Margo Liaeris | Hal Vaiken

​

His reaction was to be expected but it didn't phase her. Katja was no stranger to the behaviour of people who couldn't get their fix but she wouldn't be intimidated into folding to him. She knew better than to retaliate to his rebuke but he seemed to have already made the decision for her. Rather than start an argument, she just acted passively for now. She wouldn't be giving him her clinic pass but he didn't need to know that yet.

"Oh." She gave a brief chuckle. "Maybe it's a sign that he should try his luck with Margo." She replied as her gaze idly searched the room for the other SCAR members but her attention was quickly snapped back to Leto on his following comment.

"What?" Was all that she managed to get out at first, surprised by the sudden accusation. Realising there was no convincing way out of it, she shook her head and chuckled nervously. "I guess Kav's got better intel than the ISB." She replied, not explicitly confirming nor denying the claim, though her reply would seem to suggest the former.

His question prompted her to sneak a glance at the pair she had just left. "Plaything?" She asked, her eyes returning to meet Leto's. "What's that supposed to mean?"

​

 

[Leto Venau]

Katja Javik Lily Stevens Hal Vaiken Kav Canthar Margo Liaeris Castor E-196

​

His answer was an amused huff, the short breath escaped Leto beside a smirk and even some hint of disbelief. The stormtrooper continued to stare towards the distant two as the beer continued to flow, both back and forth and up and down, an almost narrowed set of dark eyes befell Tavlar rather than the would-be plaything.

"It means Tavlar likes to dump some ammo in whoever he so chooses," even the Amaxine furrowed his brow at the comment, uncertain whether that metaphor was one left for himself and Kav. "Has his fun, onto the next."

Leto maintained odd eye contact on the lieutenant across the room, whether the man stared back or not was of no concern to Phantom. "Still, I look at Tavlar and..." he turned to Katja with disapproval, "Him? There's not a whole lot to him. You could do better."

 

[Katja Javik]

THE EMPIRE
SCAR SQUAD
FORTRESS IMPERATOR
Kriegan Tavlar | Siyndacha Aerin | Castor E-196 | SCAR Squad pull up skrr skrr Lily Stevens | Kav Canthar | Leto Karazyn | Margo Liaeris | Hal Vaiken

​

Katja gave a humourless chuckle and shook her head in denial, a small forced smile remaining on her lips for the following few moments before it faltered the longer Leto explained. "You don't know that." She insisted. "How could you possibly..." Her gaze settled on Kriegan and the Knight in a few painfully long moments as she paused in the middle of her sentence. "...know that." She finished, sounding uncertain upon seeing the pair together, but was careful to avoid catching either of their eyes.

It was hard to consolidate what Leto was telling her with what she knew about Kriegan's person. They both seemed contradicting. Kriegan had appeared so charming and genuine which was what had made her so smitten with him in the first place but she also trusted her squadmate who had now placed seeds of doubt in her mind.

She went quiet upon his final comment. She had thought better of Kriegan and now she wasn't sure what to believe. "You're not just trying to cause trouble, are you Leto?" She asked in an attempt to confirm that he was telling the truth.

​

 

[Leto Venau]

Katja Javik Lily Stevens Kav Canthar Hal Vaiken Margo Liaeris Castor E-196

​

She ran the head miles while Leto stuffed another stimstick in his mouth.

"Huh?" His attention shifted from the cradled stick that started to burn, the familiar crackle of it that came beside the first few fumes of smoke. It left an odd taste in the air with his inhale, the drawn out exhale had seen the smoke blown up to the side. "Me? No."

Leto took another sip as the stick slid between fingers. "Just saying what I see. Hell, look at her. Look at you. I'd do the same."

 

[Katja Javik]

THE EMPIRE
SCAR SQUAD
FORTRESS IMPERATOR
Kriegan Tavlar | Siyndacha Aerin | Castor E-196 | SCAR Squad pull up skrr skrr Lily Stevens | Kav Canthar | Leto Karazyn | Margo Liaeris | Hal Vaiken

​

She waited patiently for his answer as he took a hit of the stimstick; the smell of which had become all too familiar to her recently. Waiting for an answer wasn't an issue as she wasn't sure she wanted to hear it anyway, afraid of him confirming his claims as true - which he did.

Though she had turned to face the bar in an attempt at getting the bartender's attention, her head slowly turned back in his direction with an unimpressed look on her face at his comment. "Thanks." She replied sarcastically. "Somehow that doesn't help."

He could have some credit for honesty, she supposed.

"Three shots of anything and a beer... please." She requested from the bartender whose attention she had managed to catch. She took the first shot, grimacing at the bitter taste, hesitating at the second, feeling the presence of Leto beside her even though her attention wasn't on him. "Don't you have someone else to irritate?" She asked.

​

 

[Abeodan Tyiskore Charidot]

He could tell that Hall Mannarra was within his own little world until the sound of his voice alerted him to his presence. He was amused as the man seemed to understand that he was a superior and stood at attention. There was no need to be formal at this event; they were here to celebrate the empire's semi-victory over Ilum and to reward those who fought bravely for the imperial ideals. "At ease; my friend. This is a celebration for the empire as a whole regardless of rank." Charidot said with a friendly smile as the smoke from his cherry scented cigarra went up into the atmosphere.

He watched as the man made move to leave his company due to other matters. "Very well; you are dismissed." Charidot said with a simple gesture of his hand. He could just see the outline of the man through the crowd as he seemed to be quite in a hurry to meet someone. Perhaps a secret girlfriend or lover that couldn't be introduced to himself. Although the alternative would be that he was spying for the Galactic Alliance but that was a very paranoid way of thinking although it did cross his mind a few times.

Making his way back inside to meet up with Commander French and Rear Admiral De'Gura.

​

Rear Admiral Mil De'Gura was currently busy speaking to Commander Cylo French about the recent events that had transpired. Although Admiral Charidot had excused himself for other matters. His gaze beneath his officer's cap followed the sound of boots making their way towards him and the ever arrogant voice of Ignacious Korvan made itself known to him. He could barely hold his distain of the man until he started speaking.

"A small galaxy indeed; Grand Moff Korvan." He said with the most polite tone he could manage for a moment. "With all due respect; Grand Moff. Our fleet was elsewhere securing our border from maw elements while your battlegroup was off on a fishing expedition. I didn't need to be at Ilum to know that the 'finest' died because of your incompetence." Rear Admiral De'Gura said towards him without an inch of fear of the man. He was an Officer of the 400th Talmshaa Fleet and not some imperial bureaucrat without a spine.

De'Gura was bemused at his suggestion that he could prove himself worthy of the rank he held. And would respond in turn without a moment of hesitation. He took in Korvan's words with careful consideration due to the fact that he was being promoted today by the Lord-Regent of the Empire. If he made an enemy of the Grand Moff it made little difference to his career due to the 400th Talmshaa Fleet being under the powerbase of a Moff.

"We accept your challenge to prove ourselves; Grand Moff Korvan. Although I am quite sure that the only thing you've earned so far is the patronage of the Lord-Regent who puts up with you for now until you are no longer useful to the empire." De'Gura said in short and simple words as Ignacious Korvan excused himself from the pair to carry on his walk towards the bar.

"Are you sure that was such a wise move." Commander French added now; concerned for his superior's welfare. The Grand Moff would now become the 4th most powerful man in the empire next to the Triumvirs.

"It is of little consequence; we enjoy the protection of Moff Vethres which Korvan would be hard pressed to intimidate. Even with his rank within the hierarchy." Rear Admiral De'Gura said in response. Moving to grab another drink from a passing service droid while waiting for Admiral Charidot to return.
​