Public Splendor and Spite

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

BASTILA
Dress​

Bastila didn’t take the glass at once. She let it sit there between them, its surface catching the chandelier’s fractured light, until the silence almost became a statement of its own. Only then did she reach for it, the brush of her fingers deliberate, her deep crimson polish across her nails casting a striking contrast against the pale crystal.

Her gaze flicked upward, meeting his with a steadiness that belonged more to a duellist than a guest at a ball. The wine’s glitter only heightened the impression; something dangerous cloaked in refinement. She tipped the glass to her lips, savouring the taste more for the performance of it than the flavour.

“Your Highness; Aurelian,” she said at last, her smile breaking through like a blade drawn in slow motion as she dropped both title and less appropriate namings for the occasion. The sound of the revel behind them, all the laughter, the swell of strings, the faint chiming of cutlery and glassware; it all seemed to fade beneath her words. “You’d have this palace sweating in anticipation even if you came draped in rags.” She took another sip and looked back at the crowd around them with a smile meant just for them. “Trust me. Half of them are terrified of what you’ll do. The other half are disappointed you haven’t done it yet.”

Her tone was light, but her eyes lingered, following the line of his cheek where candlelight and shadow met. It was a dangerous face, and she wasn’t pretending otherwise, he was after all King. Another sip, slower this time, before she let her voice curl with amusement. “As much as I don’t think they will honestly miss us if we just sit here and catch up, I'm sure they are all expecting the tension to break at some point.”

She tilted her glass, letting the candlelight scatter across the rim like firelight dancing over steel. The faintest arch of her brow betrayed a teasing thought. “So unless you are just trying to make me sweat tonight… We should probably go and make our rounds?”

The challenge glinted sharper in her expression than the crystal in her hand. Yet there was no mask of caution this time, only a playful warmth in the way she leaned ever so slightly closer, enough that her words belonged only to him along with the soft tapping of the traditional Naboo face-dress she wore. “After all,” she murmured, her smile widening, “I’m sure you want to flaunt the youngest heir of Ee’everwest and Sal-Soren off to the throne of Hapes.”

Her glass rose, clinking softly against his in a deliberate toast, the firelight dancing in her eyes now as much as in his. “Careful, Aurelian, you’re sweating.” She mocked handing him a napkin in jest.

Aurelian Veruna​

 

[Aurellia]

Hasuras Na-Gerra | Aurelian Veruna | Bastila Sal-Soren

​

The glass of champagne disappeared quickly to match her husband. A keen eye noted Mercy's departure, but made no outward acknowledgment. Instead, she moved to lift Gerra's hand away from the arm of his chair and lead him outward, in the general direction the redhead had escaped. They were the host, after all, and expected to mingle. As they made their descent, the queen caught the tail end of Drystan Creed attempting to teach a guard a thing or two. Aurellia offered a wink before speaking up.

"Keep up the good work, sir." Then, turning to a staffer with a hushed tone, demanded: "Send that oaf a woman before he implies the wrong person incompetent. Li'ell has someone to entertain him, surely."

Within minutes, the command would be seen. A beautiful Hapan would wander up, ask what Drystan's tattoo meant, and mention the reputation that preceded him. By that point, the Queen Mother and her Consort were deep within the crowd, cycling through names. Those of the great houses had been seated nearest, and came first - and the stares made a spectacle of the warlord who had threatened several of their lives on these very grounds only a short while ago.

Eventually, the crowds spat them out into the vicinity of the newly elected King of Naboo. No disdain showed in her expression despite what may have slithered through the force. Naboo usually had the right of it with their queens, but the idea that a crown could pass from head to head with something as fickle as a public election put a bitter taste in the Hapan's mouth.

"This should be fun." She informed Gerra. "They're rather fond of Jedi in the Republic. I wonder what they will make of you."

The Queen Mother opted to stay her position rather than approach first. This was her house, after all. One arm moved to link with Gerra's, playing at the happy couple whilst they awaited their next visitors.

"It's calm." Aurellia noted, annoyed by the dullness. "I was hoping your presence would draw those pesky rebels out. We may need to think up some other way to entertain our guests."

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

Another grunt from the eight feet of Vahlan muscle at her side as he peeled the meat from some cooked pheasant with his teeth and swallowed. He glanced behind him, where paced a great Tuk’ata hound.

He tossed the bones and gristle to her and she devoured them in one snap of her jaws. Courtiers nearby gave the beast wide berth with gasps of disgust, while those Vahlan corsairs prowling the hall chortled at the quailing nobles and then resumed fighting amongst each other over some bauble or other.

Gerra smiled and took another sip from his wine glass - his third.

“Who?” He rumbled, these sapling courtiers in their finery all looked the same to him, though his eyes found Bastila Sal-Soren and fastened on her.

“Hm. I care not what they make of me. I live, I love, I slay, and am content.”

He glanced at Aurellia and admitted that she would be beautiful were she not so venomous. To admire her was to admire the viper. Safer from a distance.

“As for entertainment… would it please you if I threw one of them through a window.”

Aurellia

 

[Kalen]

Kalen half expected the sarcophagus to be empty. But as he and Vonce pushed aside the heavy lid, there was indeed a corpse inside.

"For someone who's been dead for a few weeks, she looks pretty good," Vonce commented, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Lira approached the coffin, instruments in hand. She poked and prodded the body with needles, taking samples of various tissues. A scowl creased her brow. "The embalming process was very thorough. It's contaminated the samples. So far all of the tests I've run have been inconclusive."

"Did she have a birthmark or something?" Vonce suggested.

She shook her head. "Any aesthetic features can be easily replicated. Besides, do you really think the Chume would let so much as a freckle show? Her skin would have to be flawless, or the dumb masses might realize she's a false idol."

"Then there's no way to prove that this is Nimaa'ri's body," Kalen said, frowning "Nor can we prove it isn't her." He turned the corpse's head from side to side, amazed and slightly repulsed by how flexible it still was. Then, with a final sigh of disappointment, he released his hold. The head lolled to one side, the pose unnatural, like a broken doll. "Perhaps it doesn't matter. If she is alive, she's made no effort to contact us."

"Why would she?" Vonce said with a snort. "We killed her brother."

"And tried to kill her," Lira added, studying the general.

Kalen was silent, his expression contemplative. "Yes," he admitted at last, in almost a whisper. "I am tainted by the past. I long to retire. But the work is not done, and the people... They know me. They respect and fear me..." He met Vonce's eyes, then Lira's. Perhaps it is time I chose a successor. But who could fill my shoes?

The sound of voices nearby put an end to their graveyard venture. At a signal from Kalen, Lira quickly put away her equipment while he and Vonce pushed the lid back into place. The corpse once again sealed in her tomb, the trio fled back the way they had come, disappearing into the night.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Fountain Palace, Hapes
Tags: Bastila Sal-Soren | Aurellia | Hasuras Na-Gerra

Aurelian tipped his glass against Bastila's. The quiet chime was a delicate counterpoint to his dangerous smile, which returned as he let the wine linger on his tongue before swallowing. "Spare me, Bastila," he murmured, his voice pitched low enough for only her to hear over the din of laughter, music, and clinking crystal. "We're no longer adversaries. Dominic is far from these halls. You don't need to pander to me."

His words carried the casual ease of dismissal, yet his eyes were sharper than his tone. He set his glass down, his gaze tracing her attire, the dress catching every lick of firelight, and the deliberate poise she carried even into this enemy territory.

"You do look lovely tonight," he added, his voice growing quieter, softer. Still, the danger in his words remained, his mouth curling into something sly, almost tender but edged with mischief. "Far more than a man like Dominic Praxon ever deserves." The name was a barb, delivered with the subtle cruelty of a courtier who knew exactly where to slide the knife.

Before she could answer, his attention shifted. He was drawn, as if by an invisible thread, to the slow, deliberate path of Aurellia and her warlord consort cutting through the sea of courtiers. The Queen Mother gleamed like ivory and venom. Aurelian's smile widened, though it did not reach his eyes.

"Yes," he admitted, amusement lacing the word as he reclaimed his glass. "I would like to flaunt you a bit."

With the decision made, he slipped a hand to the small of Bastila's back. The gesture was courtly in its grace, yet intimate enough to claim attention. He steered them forward with unhurried confidence, a predator sauntering towards the apex of the food chain. As they closed the distance, Aurelian inclined his head with a mixture of courtesy and challenge. His smile sharpened to that dangerous edge that made courtiers whisper. He raised his glass slightly in salute.

"Your Majesties," he said smoothly, his voice carrying just enough to hush nearby chatter. "King Veruna the Second of Naboo, at your service. And beside me, Bastila Sal-Soren. The youngest heir to Ee'everwest and Sal-Soren Houses of Naboo." His hand gestured with a subtle flourish toward her, an acknowledgment without diminishment.

"Thank you for the honor of your invitation. I am eager to see what new age this union promises."

His words were polite, but his eyes gleamed with both interest and mischief. He clearly wanted to see how the viper and her warlord would bare their fangs.

​

 

[Juniper Le Fey]

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​

Juniper smiled as Tohu's face reddened. Watching the young boy squirm was fun, though if this rattled him, she couldn't wait to see what happened when he started running with the rest of the criminals. Compared to your average Trandoshan hunter, these poems were tame. Still, a flash of innocence in an otherwise hardened criminal was sweet.

She could tell from the way he looked her over that he recognized her. She'd made a name for herself on Nar Shaddaa and beyond as someone unafraid to get her hands dirty. That meant working with the children often, slipping creds into little hands to spy or steal. She couldn't be expected to remember every one of them, but most remembered her.

"Don't forget to check that out with the librarian-" Her eyes narrowed like a Nexu about to pounce. "Wouldn't want them thinking you're a thief." It was funny, given they were both there to steal books; she just hadn't expected him to show up for sex poems. She tapped the volume against his chest twice. "Also, chapter fifteen gets really intense." She winked. While she distracted him, she slipped the other book she'd been reading into her coat, a title she'd been hunting for years.

"Tohu, huh?" Her voice softened when he introduced himself. He called her June, a name she didn't hear often. Most said Juniper unless told otherwise- or unless she was flirting. He was far too young for that, which meant he must have known someone she knew. "Well, Tohu, whoever taught you that name, they earned it." A flash of magenta Magick lit her eyes as her grin returned. "You can call me Juniper Le Fey."

The moment broke with the heavy tread of boots. Guards. It wasn't suspicious to be in the library during such a large event, but the two of them together was another story. Juniper's voice dropped to a whisper meant for Tohu alone. "Follow my lead."

Two broad-shouldered Hapans rounded the corner, voices flat and official. "Evening, miss. What are the two of you doing in here?"

"I'm teaching him how to read." It was the first thing that came to her mind, not the best excuse, but it would have to do.

"In the romance section?" one guard asked, brow raised.

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

RECEPTION

Persephone seemed to be leaving the main entrance as the same time of someone else, nearly running into one another. To be fair, she had been mildly distracted by the sequined crab woman, trying to look via peripheral vision so she wouldn't be outright staring. It was the outfit choice more than the woman for her.

Tugging on the tight, stiff collar of his suit, he decided he needed a change of scenery. He rose from his chair and started toward the door, so lost in thought that he barely stopped himself from bumping into Persephone Dashiell Persephone Dashiell . "Sorry, excuse me..." he mumbled awkwardly - until he caught sight of what she was looking at. "Is that a crab dressed like a...?" he trailed off, stopping to stare at Isur Isur and his date.

"Ho...er..." Nearly dropping the word hooker, her brain racked for a more appropriate term in such society. "...lady of the night, yes. Not sure that shade is appropriate for a wedding, uh, maybe a nightclub."

She finally took in the young man she nearly ran into. Handsome. Younger. Knowing her track record all the young handsome ones with good hair were all Jedi. Quite annoying - not that she was going to ask for a date or anything. Just more of the unfairness of it all in terms of looks. Meanwhile she was stuck with the second sons of trade barons who looked like they had never seen a bar of soap in their teenage lifespan.

"A pleasure to almost bump into you, enjoy the reception."

A tip of her wineglass in salute before beginning to depart.

Ben Khal​

 

[Vestra Tane]

Tag: Anet Raine Jaina Grayson

"Your choice in threads?" Said cryptically with nothing to suggest how she felt about it.

"Light, easy to wear. It looks fancier than it is."

Plus, again, there was the scandal factor. What was the point in going to the Hapes Cluster if you didn't risk sparking an honor duel over gender norms?

"Oi, have either of you seen Entora Vaelor?"

Vestra spun on her heel, arm still entwined with her companion's. And, very rapidly, she changed. Her posture straightened, her smile grew a modicum less devious, and -

"Afraid not, dear," even her accent was different. More posh, with a hint of the haughtiness that the Galaxy so often expected of Chandrilans. "I can keep an eye out for her, if you'd like? My, ah...friend," There the deviousness was again, "and I were just about to deliver our gifts to the happy couple."

A pause, as her eyes, all tinged with sulfur and sparkly with mischief, flicked up and down. "I do love the dress, though."

That was, perhaps, the first genuine-sounding thing the Sith had said to Jaina. The dress really was gorgeous. Was it...Kova? No, not enough spikes. Or knives. Maybe Gilded Lily, but -

Suddenly she shook her head, casting off the ghost of something terrible and long-forgotten. Her smile grew a fraction wider and ever-so-slightly more strained.

"But I think we should be going. Gerra might challenge me to a Kaggath if I'm too late."

​

 

[Tohu]

June said, "Also, chapter fifteen gets really intense," winking. Tohu thought give her a smirk, act cool, what's wrong with a little guilty pleasure, but all he mustered was a sheepish smile. Tell her the book was for a Vigo, this is not my kind of thing, but he didn't want to gamble his license, or worse - finding his name on the next Vigo List. Best he could do then was eat the bullet and hope this whole fiasco stayed between Magik June and him.

She told him her full name, said whoever had called her June earned it. How? She never said and neither could Tohu remember a reason why he knew her as June. Those days on the streets were a blur. Hearing footsteps now made them further out of his reach.

Juniper said, "Follow my lead.", voice dropped to a whisper. He nodded just as two guards came round the aisle. Big guys, thick, padded armors, guns holstered on their hips, throwing suspicious looks their way and asking what the two of them were doing here. She said, "I'm teaching him how to read." Tohu looked at her, then looked back at the guard. He wasn't buying it and neither did Tohu -- he couldn't think of a worse excuse.

"Special needs." Tohu said, blurting it out, trying to fake a sad face and paused for a moment, clawing at his mind for something, anything, to get, "Miss Fey is my mentor from the Chandrilan charitable outreach program. She says vocabulary in romance books is simple."

The guards looked at each other, tough faces slightly softening, then looked back at the two thieves, "Well, we'll still need to see your credentials."

Juniper Le Fey ​

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

Bastila​

“Oh I am pandering am I?” She spoke with a smirk breaking the attempted seriousness of her words. She made efforts not bristle at Dominic’s name; instead, she brought the glass to her lips, letting the wine catch the firelight, lowered her voice enough to brush against Aurelian’s ear, “Is it ever too much to think that maybe in the time we are being made to actually get to know each other I’ve realised you aren’t as much of an intolerable pretty boy as my first impression?”

“Dominic has got what he deserved. A tether, as quiet as a mouse to whom he can outshine at every corner for the pathways of his own makings.” Her eyes lingered on the Queen Mother across the hall, gleaming with amusement and calculation alike, her gaze only returning to him along with a smirk to offer affirmation. “Then feel free to flaunt me at your pleasure, my King.”

She allowed his hand at the small of her back, but every line of her posture made it clear she belonged here as any of them did. This after all was the hall of Hapan Royalty, a place the Sal-Soren’s were interconnected to; through blood, fate and sacrifice. As he guided her forward, she stepped into the light of the chandeliers with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly what she was doing: It was time to turn herself into the spectacle, the statement of Naboo, the question on everyone’s mind, and a threat for all who recognised it.

Her bow to Aurellia was flawless, Nabooan grace without submission. When she spoke, her tone carried further than mere politeness should have, as though daring the court to listen:

“Your Majesties. It is an honor. This palace shines tonight in your honour and your claim.”

The words slid like polished steel, her smile as though it were nothing more than pure and honest civility; but the spark in her eyes made clear she enjoyed how easily her presence was being noticed.

And as her gaze flicked back to Aurelian, she let her guard drop, if only for a moment and felt that slight rush of heat in her cheeks. He may have taken the vote of King, but he was making sure she didn’t miss out on feeling like the Queen, if only for a moment.

Aurelian Veruna Aurellia Hasuras Na-Gerra

 

[Anet Raine]

Anet turned her head to the newcomer.

Vestra had already answered for them both, but she offered a rendition all the same.

"No," she answered.

Then her companion went on to twist some words about the nature of their relationship, followed by a proclamation of gifts to be given. All the usual small talk between strangers at an event like this.

More curiously was the way Vestra adjusted to the conversation. A woman who masked? It begged more than a few questions, each laced with assumption. A coy smirk rose from pale lips.

Her attention turned fully to Jaina. "Why yes, that is a lovely dress!" Said with the cheerful demeanor of one obsessed with such things.

Unlike her arm trophy, however, Anet was anything but genuine in the response. It wasn't that she thought the opposite, but she truly did not care who this woman was, because she was neither the bride nor groom, nor anyone she imagined in their company.

When Vestra found their way out, the half-arkanian sighed dramatically.

"Well, I would have loved to chat, but you know how it is..."

Jaina Grayson | Vestra Tane

 

[Isur]

Surprising Isur but not quite surprising Crustacia, the guard came over. The Karkarodon had brought himself up to four beers. They were human sized after all. And well, pirate. Few times a month the crew of the Hunter would put a good number of bottles of liquor back. And maybe it was, indeed, making his focus shift a little. To the guard and his crab lady.

She was classy and drinking wine. And the guard joined her.

"So. What's behind the door." Isur started, briskly.

"What my partner here is trying to say, is what is your name, Miss? Been working this palace long?"

"Long enough to know the free drinks are never actually free." The human shot a glance at Isur who was giving an incredibly predatory glance.

"Oh don't mind him. Unrefined invertebrate he is."

Isur had indeed moved up to another drink.

 

[Ben Khal]

Ben's gaze soft-focused on the girl he had nearly bumped into. She was young, probably closer to him in age than anyone else he had encountered at the party. While she wasn't beautiful - at least not in the way a Hapan woman was supposed to be, flawless and frozen - there was a charm to her imperfect features which belonged to her and no one else. Perhaps that was why he couldn't stop staring at her.

"A pleasure to almost bump into you, enjoy the reception."

And then, it was over. Ben's lips parted, a little intake of breath indicating he was about to say something, only to falter. What could he say? She was already walking away. "You too," he murmured, watching her go.

Persephone Dashiell​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

Jaina didn’t need her psychology programming to tell her that Vestra had no intention of actually helping her. The only time the woman seemed to show genuine emotion was when she complimented her white dress. Same with the chick’s friend, who was somehow even less sincere in her delivery.

“Thanks,” Jaina replied, giving them a fake smile. “My fabricator shit it out this morning.”

Where was Entora?! There was no way she would miss an event as major as the Queen Mother’s wedding. All her sources backed it up. At least, she thought they had… Damn it, this was why she did all her research in her Civilian Form. Her Warrior Form couldn’t think straight! “Fuck. Fuck!” she muttered under her breath. Raising a sharp-nailed hand to scratch her head, she unintentionally showed off the glittering rainbow gem engagement ring on her finger. “I gotta find her…”

And then, a miracle. The crowd parted behind the two women in front of her, and a shaft of light radiated down on a lone pale figure standing by the punch bowl. Jaina locked eyes with her target from across the room. The Ducha of Arabanth stared back, looking confused. At this point in their stupidly convoluted story, she didn’t even know who Jaina was.

But Jaina knew her—and she hated her guts. Without wasting another word on the useless Sith, Jaina broke into an athletic sprint (all the more impressive in 6.5 inch heels) and flung herself at Entora, who was so bewildered she didn’t react fast enough to avoid the collision. The pair crashed into the craft table, spilling fruit punch all over the floor.

Vestra Tane Anet Raine​

 

[Juniper Le Fey]

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Juniper shrugged defeated, it was a really bad excuse. "Yeah, you got me. That wasn't my best work." She sighed, "But you try improvising with two armed guards breathing down your neck and see what comes out." The honesty caught the guards by surprise. That was always a back up plan, shock and awe. If they didn't know your next move, you could mask the fact that you didn't either. A little bit of chaos. "Truth is..."

Her hunter's instincts were at their max as she spoke, noticing the guard's demeanor. His uniform was wrinkled, and his breath smelled faintly of yesterday's wine. The other guy seemed to be just as rough around the edges, an advantage Juniper hoped to push. "Truth is, we came here for a little light reading. But we both know all the good books aren't on the shelves." She stepped forward, getting dangerously close to the guard. He didn't seem to care, he likely hadn't been this close to a woman in a while. Juniper's perfume drifted gently as she spoke.

"Why don't you tell us where a really good story is, huh?" Poison dripped from her words as she lifted her coat open, revealing a credit chip flipping between her fingers. Landing right into the guard's hand, Juniper wrapped her hands around his, closing the chip in his palm. The tension seemed thick as ever. Would he go for it? Or would the two of them have to fight their way out of here? Nothing could have been as bad as 'teaching him how to read.'

The Hapan guard weighed his options silently for a moment before speaking, "That's a lot of credits. Alright, lady, there's a strongbox in the north hallway, no one checks it anymore. Key's in a wine bottle on the rack." He looked her up and down before finishing, "I don't remember which one though." It seemed honest enough. Juniper stepped away, flourishing her hand and making another credit chip appear like magick, a tip for his allegiance.

In the silence, the other guard looked to Tohu , "Well, she's good. What do you have to offer?" His eyebrow raised as he stepped closer.

 

[Tohu]

Tohu's eyes widened when Juniper admitted she was fooling around. He subtly reached for the side of his harem pants, an unscannable dagger -- procured by Beri, an Abyssin smuggler working from Raz's place -- tucked underneath his shirt, strapped to the pants. He was certain this was going to turn into a bloodbath. Always did.

Now he was watching June talk and stepping closer to the guard, breathing down his neck. His fingers itched for the dagger, but his eyes consumed her moves -- those sharpened as a blade hunter's instincts, that cloak and dagger -- siphoning them into the depths of his psyche. She was fooling around, alright, just in a different way and the guard was drinking it all in like a Sand Person at a water well. She was not only off his hook, but now he was blabbing about a cache, some strongbox in the north hallway.

Tohu figured he was off the hook, too, tense hand dropping back down loose. Then the guard wasn't having it, saying, "Well, she's good. What do you have to offer?" Tohu looked at the guard, then at the other, at June, then back at the guard asking for a little goodwill. He was certain he could shoot the dagger up fast enough, slice the guard's throat, then stab the other's, but then what? Scurry out the library, find his way off this rock full of pretty but angry women before those same angry women got a hold of him halfway and drag him to the altar and go: congrats to the newlywed, here's a man of great health and looks, we'll carve him open real good, right here, with this jagged knife, a toast for your health and fortune, you may kiss the bride!

Yeah, no, he wasn't having it. Sure was reckless but Tohu couldn't afford being stupid, too. Not so close to that license. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a credit chip of less value than Juniper's. Not like he had anything else, and gave it to the guard. The Hapan looked at his buddy, his buddy looked at him, at the chip, back at him again and shrugged.

"Have a good evening." the guard said, and they sauntered away, probably considering their brothel options off-world.

Tohu turned to June, "So, the strongbox?"

--

"Who the hell needs so much wine? There's like a million here." Tohu said, putting back on the rack yet another bottle with no key. "Think they lied about it?"

Juniper Le Fey ​