Foundations and Formalities

[Demiurge]

Imperial Palace
Bastion
Sartinaynian System
Braxant Sector
Evening Hour
​

It was a social gathering of an unprecedented scale of the era, a meeting of the elite, and of the ordinary. The rich and the powerful, the influential and the extraordinary gathered from across Imperial space. From the Grand Moffs of the farthest reaches of the Northern Galactic Rim, to the most accomplished of admirals and generals patrolling the border worlds, the Empire's favored children were all called together, to Bastion. To the Imperial Royal Palace. It was the center of the affairs of the Galactic Empire, the hub of all that ran and organized the vast government and its interests. It was without comparison, without equal. It was the pride of the Empire, and the seat of power for the Sith.

But it was not them alone, the rich and the powerful. Others answered the call of Bastion. Common soldiers and military men, low level officials and others within the Empire's backbone came to doors of the Imperial Palace. Within the very inner workings of the foundations of the palace patrolled the omnipresent eyes of the Nova Guard - the most elite warriors the Galactic Empire had produced, and the Galactic Emperor's personal guardsmen. In the heavens above loomed a security fleet, bolstered ever more by the presence of the occasion.

The grand halls within the palace were lavished in decor and carpets, furnished as a palace of royalty to be awed. Columns carved from pure aurodim, and floors of obsidian and marble. Carpets of the finest pelts and furs of the most exotic of beasts. It was the event of the Empire, and of their allies, the Chiss Ascendency. Two empires, one alliance toward one common goal. The Imperial Convention had begun.

 

[Imperial3304]

A nearby Protocal droid stood at a stair case as various guests and military officials of the formalevent arrived and descended the staircase into the eleborate palace that served as the seat of the Empire. After announcing the arrival of the last guests to arrive, the droid turned when it sensed a figure approaching. Tweaking ti's eye monitors a bit the dorid was actually surprised by the appearnace of the figure that stepped out of the shadows and on to the stair case. The droid actually reeled back at the site of the scar faced Imperial Navy Officer, wearing a Captain's rank lapel, along with various other medals. If not his face, the fatc the man was heavily muscled and stood well over 6ft tall, also seemed to unerve the droid as the man turned and gave the droid a cold stare.

The dorid scanned it's memory banks and finding the man's file turned tot he gathering crowds in the main ball room. "Announcing the arrival of Imperial Captain Rhaal Donahue, Captain of the "Emperor's Sword" and head son of the noble Donahue family" the droid announced as Cap. Donahue nodded to the gathered people and made his way down the staircase. Dressed in his grey Navy uniform with a red cape over his right shoulder, and wearing his rank lepal as well as various other medals he had earned in his career, Rhaal ascended the staircase and reached the bottom nodding to those he knew. he had gone with out either his family sword and his blaster pistol as he knew they where banned and not needed int he security of the palace. Still he kept his intution and wits about as a waiter held up a tray of wine glasses to him.

Selecting a glasses with an emerald colored wine from Coreilla in it. Cap. Donahue walked over to the seciton of the room where the lower ranked officers where gathering and sipped his wine slowly as he allowed his mind to morph into the noble son representing his family.

 

[Veritas et Lux]

He spoke deep and low, his speech in basic was fluent however only at the volume of a mumble. The small choker he wore round his fury neck amplified and produced a clean loud wookiee voice speaking. The bridge listened whenever the pendant speaker spoke, they have already witnessed and experienced the penalty for failure to hear his voice. As the ship began to slow from hyper-drive the view from the bridge became clearer. The world was now beneath them, a fine globe for a fine meeting.
"Good we're coming in to orbit. Take the bridge, admiral.", he said, turning from the view of the planet below to the selkath beside him.
He loomed over the rest inside of the ship, a burning leader, indeed. He removed his hands from behind his back and hailed the hangar.
"Prep the shuttle, I'm coming down.", he said with a growl in shriiwook at the end, following ominously.

.........................................................

On the surface the shuttle landed smoothly upon the square pad. Escorts walked the grand wookiee out of the shuttle and into the palace respectfully.
"Leave me, fools.", his pendant chirped, with a low growl following.
"You embarrass me."

Grozz'Urra, he escorted himself through the palace and into the room of many floating seats aligned into a circular shape. His seat was always the same, front row. Silently he sat by himself, waiting for the masses to join. His height was grand and his fur was always groomed, although without clothes he was not naked. The mass of smooth coarse hairs went from head to toe, concealing any skin. He watched avidly with his fiery eyes, and waited humbly with his wit. The respect that was shown to him, despite his species, was a great reminder of his influence and valor.

 

[Sreeya]

The doors seemingly blasted open of their own accord. For a moment, it would look as if there was an attack. But no, the truth was that the party had arrived. As if on cue, this song randomly began to blast throughout the palace. Thaed strode into the palace like he owned the place, his attire far different from what he normally wore. His upper body was adorned in a brightly colored disco shirt that was almost enough to blind someone. The first few buttons were undone, revealing his shiny tattooed chest. He also wore sunglasses, expensive pants and dress shoes. He felt naked without his lightsabers, but it was a small price to pay for the ridiculous amount of fun he planned on having.

Thaed reeked of spices, a whole assortment of drugs in his pockets. He had a flask of whiskey in one hand. Both his arms were draped around two women on each side. These women barely fit into their clothing, all four strongly giving off the smell of alcohol. The women were practically clinging onto Thaed, a constant stream of giggling filling the air as the group walked into the palace. Behind Thaed were even more women, all scantily clad and various species. There was even a female Rodian. Hey, Thaed wasn't picky.

The Zabrak reached a droid and used the Force to float over an entire tray of drinks, grabbing a bottle of wine and chugging a fourth of it while double fisting it with the flask of whiskey. He hadn't realized that he began to bob to the music, moving to the beat. The damn beat hit him at his soul, and it demanded that he move to it. He nodded to the others in the area, grinning widely while raising the wine bottle.

"For the Empire!"

He tilted the bottle, taking another long swig. By now, the women began to dance around them. One of the girls was particularly fascinated by Grozz'Urra. It was a twi'lek wearing practically nothing. She danced her way over to him and leaned in with a smile.

"Heeey big boy. You important?"

 

[Dread]

Silas' shoes clicked against the Imperial Palace's marble floor. The sound reverberated in the halls, turning the attention of brooding nobles and stern-faced guards his way. They caught a glimpse of his outfit and did a double take. His blue suit was striking. Its velvety texture could have been suede to the untrained eye. Leopard spots growled on his cuffs and the lining of the outrageously low v-neck. He greeted their stares with a smirk, flourishing a studded cane.

He followed a few steps behind Thaed's entourage, with a pair of voluptuous human women clung to his sides. They were young, around their early twenties. Both were blond, bleach blond, near Silas' blond save theirs weren't natural. Their pitch black eyebrows all but confirmed their hair was dyed. Both young women had a sultry grace about them. They turned heads with the way they walked. To top it all off, their eyes were the color of syrup heated until it turns brown; light, captivating and rare.

The Darth let his hands slide from the two womens curvy hips up into the air dramatically.

"Oh, my, oh, my, how long have I waited to have a formal party?" he said to no one in particular.

He reached into his pocket, taking out a death stick. As he slipped it between his lips he used the force to bring a lighter to his mouth and light it up. The smoke filled his mouth and lungs, releasing the tightness stress had built up in his body.

 

[MolotovCocktailParty]

They all entered so obtrusively, even the high-ranking Sith. Surely they should know better than that. It looked so... unprofessional. The Sith Order was a power to be feared, and respected. How could anyone fear a group composed of addicts and drunks? And this was what they looked like at a formal gathering. It was almost like they wished they were at a rave.

Against the wall leaned a young man in his early twenties, his dark blond hair swept to the side to reveal his face, handsome in a roguish fashion. His deep green eyes, shadowcast in the low light where he stood, tracked the motion of various figures throughout the room; he wore a slight scowl that looked out of place on his face. Not that he disliked social gatherings. He had become accustomed to them over time: part of power was politics, the ability to manipulate and use others effectively. It was just that his fellow Sith seemed so distasteful, so unrefined.

Zynn Hawkright was an Acolyte of the Sith Order, but some - a privileged number, made up mostly of Sith and ranking Imperial officers - knew also that he was a member of the elite unit the Ubiqtorate, a subdivision of the Imperial military designed for more delicate tasks: espionage, sabotage, assassination. Zynn was a member of the Special Intelligence division, and he was currently at war with himself. Part of him wanted to remain leaning against the wall, disdainful and aloof, as the others mingled and he merely watched. The other part, mostly his old self, wanted to go out and talk, socialize, make connections - possibly even have fun. He sighed, realizing that it was in his best interests to enter the throng, then suddenly his visage shifted into a grin as he answered a waitress' question about his drink order. Zynn preferred to be both in the shadows and the public eye; no one suspected you if they could see you. His domain was not just the dark places, but also the ones lit by candlelight and subtle wall-mounted glowstrips. Once he resigned himself to it, he was in his element.

Accepting a glass of Corellian wine - it really was the best - Zynn moved off into the crowd. He was glad that he'd remembered to have his formal attire refitted; rather than his usual Sith armor and robes, tonight Zynn sported a matte black leather ensemble, consisting of a medium-collared long-sleeved tunic; the body was plain except for a small red hawk on the side of the mostly-zipped collar, Zynn's personal symbol, but the sleeves were decorated with two smooth lines of a slightly lighter black that curved around the arm and ended at the wrist. The tunic was bound with a simple belt with a polished, elegant silver buckle. The tunic divided at the waist but continued to midthigh, overlapping with his fitted pants - black synth-leather like the rest of it - and formal, classy boots. He held up better than most did without his lightsaber, as sometimes he was required not to carry it, and he still remembered what it was like before he became a Sith. Besides, no true Sith was ever really unarmed.

The grin grew to a rakish smile as Zynn seamlessly melded into the flow of the event, joining a conversation between a few middle-rank officers about galactic politics. He noted at least three presences worth remembering, but he didn't turn to identify them just yet. All in good time.

 

[Zach]

The Black Shadow touched down to the atmosphere of Bastion, having just received confirmation for his landing. The little stealth fighter easily maneuvered through the sudden wind resistance, piercing through the clouds to the surface of the planet. As the massive skyline of the palace came into sight, Ruthric felt a grin creep over his face. He recalled the last time he'd seen the symmetrical towers, when he'd first met the Sith Order's blademaster, Darth Silentius. There was no doubt the Sith Lord would be present at the event, being the first formal meeting between the officers and generals of them and the Chiss Ascendancy.

Grinning at the opportunity of more allies in the war against the Galactic Alliance, Ruthric began to contemplate coordinated attacks, perhaps one day leading his own assaults in a joint attack once becoming a Sith Master. Anxious to greet the other fairly ranked officers in the allied military, Ruthric wondered how many of his own allies would attend. Throughout his training as an Acolyte, he'd acquainted himself with many individuals, some becoming students, others friends.

Touching down to the landing pad that he'd been coordinated to, Ruthric glanced over his left shoulder, meeting the gaze of Curator. The beast had become a close friend, and even more, a companion. He smiled and gave the beast a nuzzle with the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in affection. Unlike so many other Sith he could name, Ruthric believed that unnecessary rage and insanity was pointless without control. To be wild an untamed is dangerous and reckless, sure to lead to one's downfall. The Jedi were but foolish hypocrites with their restraint and discipline, however. Ruthric believed that control over all emotions influenced one's capabilities. Since researching the history of the first Dark Lord of the Sith, Ajunta Pall, Ruthric had spent many nights lying awake, contemplating the teachings and beliefs.

Ruthric looked down to his right shoulder, a worried furrow in his brow. This had been the first time he'd removed the cybernetic prosthetic arm from his body since receiving it. Ruthric had been doubtful at first, but the rules had explicitly described that all weapons were disallowed. He'd even left his lightsaber sitting in his quarters back at the Sith academy on Korriban. The arm lied with it, placed neatly on the counter next to the hilt. There were several weapons implanted inside the mechanical structure, many that couldn't be removed without dissecting the entire piece.

Looking back to Curator again and nodding once to him in acknowledgement, Ruthric popped open the cockpit and stood to hop out. The black cloak he normally wore was firmly wrapped around and pinned to the armor in front, covering his weakened side. He'd decided to leave Curator at the ship, to guard it just in case something went down. He didn't anything would, but sometimes people would amaze you at the least expected times. He closed the glass window back down to the fighter with the Force and turned to approach the palace.

Entering to the main lounge and general greeting area of the attendees, Ruthric peered around the room, searching for particular faces. Outstandingly, the familiar Sith Lord he'd met the last time visiting this planet, stood across the room between two lovely ladies around his arms. Ruthric couldn't help but release a wide smile on his face of the sheer intent of a good time. Close behind him stood the other recently appointed Sith Lord, Darth Animus. He'd heard much about the quickly aspiring arcanist, specializing in the art of the Force more than anything.

Stifling a laugh as he took notice of the drugs in the Iridonian's possess, he quickly renewed the massive grin on his face as he stepped further into the room. With his left hand, he clicked open the compartment pocket near his waist with the Force and pulled out five lightsaber crystal-sized bags of spice. Forming them into a circling rotation as he drifted them across the room, he raised a few of them in the Sith lords direction when a few feet away, approaching nearby and snagging two out of the air, not daring to intrude and invade his personal space with it, but be sure to offer it as a gift.

Ruthric inclined his head to the Darth in respect, bowing in the proper regard before one would address a superior. He may not feel the anger or the darkness of the Sith, but he vividly remembered his habits of visually respecting a superior. "Darth Silentius," he approached, raising his head to eye level. "I would be honored if you joined me in celebration of the official alliance between the Sith Empire and the Chiss Ascendancy," he offered, holding the bag tightly between his thumb and forefinger, ready to indulge in something he not too often considered.

 

[TheAccidentof1994]

Walter had no place here, in fact none of the Acolytes had a place here. This was going to be a party in honour of the Sith Lords and the Chiss forming their alliance, not the Sith as an embodiment; the Lords would have their fun and the Acolytes would all watch in their designated area just as children are seated at the kids table in times of family gatherings, but Walter would hardly call the Sith a family. Nonetheless he was embarrassed to be here, to be excluded, jealous even.. In the same way the children are jealous of their parents as all the adults burst out in a spontaneous fit of laughter that fill the room, tonight Walter would stand with Acolyte's who all share the same murderous intent of killing to get ahead and watch as his superiors laughed through-out the night.

But Walter was not a child, and as hard as it was he had to banish these thoughts from his mind. He did not come here to sulk, he came out of the need to impress. He truly doubted there would be any chance to show off talent tonight, the Masters simply did not care. And really he didn't think there would be a chance to charm anyone above him, they were trained to resist such charm both of the force and especially through the natural gift of suave persuasion, and Walter only really possessed the ability to perform the second, just barely.

"Make friends maybe, that hasn't worked out so well before, but not all friendships are based from artificial charm."

Walter said to himself as he strode down the middle of the palace doors looking up above at the Sith flags that draped from the palace entrance, squinting slightly as the grand lights began to take their toll on his eyes, he looked forward again and set his sights on the "Acolytes Area." There were several familiar faces here and Walter sought none of them out, while he had seen them around the temple on Korriban he had never been properly acquainted and unless Walter developed some immediate social skills this was going to be a lonely night.

Standing with a body language he hoped was inviting, he glanced around the room trying to spot potential company for the night, and maybe even a training partner... But he didn't dare search for a friend, he had to remember, that attitude didn't work out so well last time.

 

[dskod1]

Buro had already made his way to the surface of the planet. He began making his way towards the palace front entrance which was nearby taking a last look at the hsuttle that took him here as it slowly took off back towards the "Obedience". He did not like leaving his ship however it was an invite from the emperor and he would not dare disobey the emperor. He adorned a full ceremonial military attire which included mostly just a red clock and the medals he had been awarded.

Buro finally reached the steps leading up to the palace entrance and he slowly made his way up each step. Arriving at the top he handed his invitation and declined to be announced. He wanted to see who was in there before they knew he was there. He made his way through the entrance and saw quite a few low ranking military and sith. Most of which he had never heard of. Dispicable rabble he mumbled to himself as he walked in.

He grabbed a passing by wine in a glass as he made his way through the crowd all the way to the Other side of the room. He turns and fixates himself on the entrance taking a sniff of the wine beneath him. He would instantly pounce on anyone he knew that walked through that door in order to get through this ordeal faster. 'There was at least one good thing' he thought to himself 'an alliance with the chiss will put us on good footing if.......when the war brakes out between the alliance.' he smiled in thinking this however he still held his doubts about the chiss.

 

[Count Sam]

It seemed that the Emperor was holding, and unfortunately a lot of people have thought that the old Admiral enjoyed parties but they were all definitely wrong. After all, the Emperor always went to parties and bars to know more about the soldiers and tries to find as much information as he could about them. However; everyone today was obviously going to put on their daily facade during such a formal meeting and especially those few soldiers who are still holding a grudge against the sith for the bombardment of Muunlist.

That was not important now though, the most important thing now was the Chiss that were coming that the Admiral could not trust. After all, this species were pretty cunning and hard to deal with even if those dealing with them were the sith themselves. However, the Admiral knew that if the Empire played its cards right then they were most likely going to benefit a lot from the Chiss during the upcoming bloody war that was going to happen soon.

The Admiral was escorted into the palace and of course he was wearing his military suit which he made sure was clean enough for such a party.

"Grand Admiral Bruno it is good to see you here..." Admiral Kelvin said in an emotionless and polite tone as he approached the Grand Admiral who he worked with during the bombardment.

"I was wondering what you think about the whole alliance with those Chiss people Grand Admiral. Are they really to be trusted?" Kelvin asked in a low voice as he looked around the room which seemed to be full of folks enjoying themselves.

 

[dskod1]

The Grand Admiral had already grown bored and allowed his eyes to wander to the rest of the crowd when a familiar face approached. He gave a short smile but soon found himself hiding it. Buro always thought to show emotion was quite weak and he mustn't appear weak in front of guests. He turned to the Admiral taking a sip

"Grand Admiral Bruno it is good to see you here..."

"Admiral, One of the only people of lower ranks that I genuinely enjoy seeing However say my name wrong again and I will see to it that you are cleaning my entire cruiser from head to toe by your self."

He would not allow any slip ups from the Imperial navy. They were always to be at there best and never make a mistake especially one as such to pronounce a ranking officer wrong.

"I was wondering what you think about the whole alliance with those Chiss people Grand Admiral. Are they really to be trusted?"

He Gave a glance around the room checking to see if there were any chiss nearby than turned back to the admiral. The talk and music in the background was loud enough to cover the conversation however. He allowed the music in the background to be heard before answering however as the music he really did love.

"There is no doubt that allying with the chiss is a strategically sound move however........ In the long run it is no doubt that we will have to deal with the chiss rabble and put them in there place. This new chiss leader is a strong one but he is not stupid he will see this as well."

He gives a sigh as he thinks for a moment

"It will be a well played game of chess but only fools would think the players are the empire and the alliance. The true players are the chiss and the empire. This alliance is the chiss saying they are ready to start the match."

He gave a smile and once more hid it taking a sniff of his wine. He always loved talking strategy

 

[Count Sam]

"My apologize sir...” Kelvin said in a sorry like tone but still it was somewhat emotionless. After all, all these years serving the Empire made the aging Admiral as emotionless as a droid programmed to fight and do a specific job. However; it was still a shame that Kelvin got confused while saying the name of an officer who he served under during a missions. It was also a shame that the Admiral always got confused when it came to names, but well after all he has met a lot of officers in his life and he always found it hard to remember the name of every officer he encountered.

"Well High Admiral no matter how we look at it you are right...the Chiss will have a great part to do in the upcoming scenario, and that also prove the fact that they might be dangerous to us in the future especially if the Emperor allowed their fleets to have free movement within our space." He added as he took a sip from his drink and looked around the room to see the sith lords enjoying themselves more than expected which was a weird thing.

"But High Admiral you forget another important player in the whole scenario....the Mandos and they are the reason why I guess there is no other choice for us but to work with the Chiss. After all, if the Mandos attacked us then we will be fighting one heck of a war from two front lines....one from the core worlds and the other from the Hydian system." The Admiral then stopped as he took out a pack of expensive cigars and offered the High Admiral one.

"Cigar?" He said in an inviting tone.

 

[D.C.]

Another of those darker individuals entered the palace. This one clad in a black, fine suit. Under the jacket he wore a white shirt. He wore a black tie and a black top hat. His golden hair fell to his shoulders and his emerald eyes scanned the area. There was that charming smile on the human's wolf-like face; one that made many women weak in the knees.

He saw two of his fellow Darths up ahead. He knew them both by name. Thaed was the zabrak and apparently the guy was already drinking booze and dancing. Then there was that Animus kid, smoking a death stick. The Wolf reached into a pocket inside his jacket and produced a blood-red apple. He brought it to his mouth and took a bite.

A protocol droid approached him and he looked at the metal figure. 'Your name, sir?' asked the droid.

'Darth Oseth, Keeper of Veritas,' answered the man in black.

The protocol droid raised its volume and then announced in a loud, clear voice: 'Darth Oseth, Keeper of Veritas, Sith Lord of the Sith Order.'

Oseth tipped his top hat and moved on, enjoying the way people stared at him. He took another bite of his apple and merged with the crowd. The one moment he stood in the spotlight, as everyone gazed at him as if they'd seen a ghost; the next he disappeared and everyone seemingly forgot about him.

But, how could they ever forget a demon?

The Wolf had arrived.

 

[dskod1]

"My apologize sir...”

"hmmm"

He said as he looked around at the other guests

"Well High Admiral no matter how we look at it you are right...the Chiss will have a great part to do in the upcoming scenario, and that also prove the fact that they might be dangerous to us in the future especially if the Emperor allowed their fleets to have free movement within our space."

He turned back to the admiral

"Not only that of free movement admiral. But who will claim which worlds. If the Chiss can grab up a lot of the more resourceful ones than we will be put on a smaller step to them."

"But High Admiral you forget another important player in the whole scenario....the Mandos and they are the reason why I guess there is no other choice for us but to work with the Chiss. After all, if the Mandos attacked us then we will be fighting one heck of a war from two front lines....one from the core worlds and the other from the Hydian system."

"The mandalorians are very worthy opponents for both the imperial navy and army. If I had it my way we would have invaded them ages ago however they are now an element in the grand game. The mandalorians must act like a bee, Choosing only to sting when the perfect time avails itself.If they strike to fast they will be quickly die if they wait to long they will have no allies and fight a losing battle. If they strike at a perfect time however...... Well it may be a problem. We need not worry about the mandalorians however as I have an eventuality for them."

Buro looks at the cigar offered and is quick to take up such an offer. Taking it carefully with his hands and putting it in his mouth awaiting to be lit up presumably by either a waiter or the admiral himself. He usually did not care for smokes however social events made him uneasy. He had one last thing to say however and spoke whilst holding the cigar in his mouth with one side of his teeth whilst talking with the other.

"However we must place our trust and loyalty within the emperor and the empire."

He nods after this comment than keeps his mouth still. waiting for a light.

 

[Wit]

Dressed in his immaculate white Grand Admiral's uniform, Brask'ai'nuruodo was a man stuck in between two worlds. Chiss and Imperial, a man who almost personified the alliance between the Chiss and the Empire. As he entered the palace, the protocol droid announced his arrival, "Grand Admiral Brask'ai'nuruodo of the Imperial Navy."

Today his blue skin and glowing red eyes did not stand out like they always did, in this chamber they were a much more common sight than normal. It was not his skin or his eyes that drew the stares today, it was his gleaming white uniform, signifying his allegiance to the Empire that drew attention to him. What was vital was that this time it was the blue skinned ones who stared at him and not the Imperials who had gotten used to the sight. Being Chiss they were much more discrete than anyone he had encountered in the Empire, but then again he was Chiss as well. What was almost hidden from others was open for him to spot.

Moving out of the spotlight, he picked up a glass filled with a clear golden drink and began making his way through the sea of Chiss, Imperials and Sith. Sipping slowly on the drink he had picked up, he scanned faces to see who had already arrived, Admirals, Sith Lords and many more. He had not been among his people for a long time and today offered him a chance to once more be Brask'ai'nuruodo instead of simply Kain and even if he drew some glances from his own then it was fine with him.

 

[Static]

Fauxl checked her appearance in the viewscreen of the Collapse Of Reason's cockpit as her Astromech unit guided the ship towards one of Bastion's many landing pads. Outside the high towers of the planet flashed past the small ship, and for a moment she felt like a fly among mountains. Nonetheless, she had received the calling the same as all other Sith, and was determined to obey it. She wore her duelling gear - the most formal that she owned - consisting of a high-collared, short-cut, white cape; the collar of which was constructed from a lightweight, grey metal, and the fabric cape reached just past the small of her back. Her hood and veil too were white, and the colour contrasted perfectly with the deep grey colour of her trousers and shirt. Her breast and stomach were protected by a thin, lightweight grey armour, which was intricately detailed with winding patterns - matching her vambraces and leg guards.

After a short while of navigating the spires and defence towers of the planet, the ship touched softly on one of the jutting landing pads, like a butterfly upon a lily pad. Fauxl lowered her veil and stepped out onto the surface of the landing pad. The sky was a deep orange colour, and the air warm and heavy. At the far end of the landing pad, before one of the long gangways that led into the Imperial Palace proper, stood an imposing Nova Guard and a protocol Droid. The Nova Guard remained silent throughout her interrogation by the Droid, and after a few interactions and a series of biometric scans confirming her identity and the lack of any Masking ability in use, the pair stood aside, and as she walked the long gangway to the imposing door of the Imperial Palace, she couldn't help but wonder at how her life had led her to this; invited to attend the most infamous structure in the galaxy with the most feared beings in existence. Not bad for a non-discrete Zelosian orphan.

 

[Brand]

(( I had to have a little fun with the announcement ;) ))

The heavy double doors of the Imperial palace slammed behind Barak with an odd note of finality as he entered into the depths of the magnificent capitol of the Empire's war effort. Summoned as a high ranking political mastermind of the faction itself, he realized the finiteness of their fickle relations with the Chiss Ascendancy and the wide yield of importance it could lend to their fight for galactic domination.

A recent period of unrest had been prevailed upon by their new emperor, and the Vizier walked with a confidence born of intelligence and experience. He gave a few curt nods to familiar junior officers he noted on the way to the ballroom. Once there the ultrachromed protocol droid gave him one look over before announcing his arrival and presence, and Barak leaned in to whisper the introduction to the droid.

"Lord Grand Vizier Barak Mercer, Imperial Supreme Tribunal and most esteemed adviser to the Most High Emperor."

Barak stepped inside the vaulted room, taking a glass of champagne and striding here and there, making small talk with a few overly enthusiastic generals and admirals who'd already had a few too many drinks. These men were below his pity, but they'd serve to lead and die in the field of battle and provide a great little story for future generations.

The Grand Vizier sipped at his drink, trying to stomach the strange concoction. It was not to his taste, and after decades of service in the Imperial Navy he had a more acquired taste. Making a brisk walk over to the bar, he ordered to the 'tender succinctly,

"Cortyg brandy."

The bartender's eyebrow lifted slightly in surprise, but he filled a small glass with the fiery liquid and passed it to the man. Barak nodded to him and stood against the bulkhead, scanning out the crowded hall of leaders. Taking a deep drink of his brandy, the incredibly hard drink burned it's way down the back of his throat. This version of the drink, even tamer than the kind brewed and drunk by Wookiees, was wildly expensive but took a high tolerance to alcohol, something Mercer was fortunate to possess with a strong Corellian ancestry.

Sighing contentedly, Barak straightened his dress uniform and let himself fall into his own thoughts and the drink idly while his eyes watched all sides of the room intently.

 

[Dmitri]

While many people enjoyed their little parties, Lucifel was a cautious person. Aboard the Dominion, he had volunteered to stay behind in case the Galactic Alliance were to attack any of the Empire's territory. The Galactic Alliance weren't so stupid as to do that, but Lucifel preferred to be overly cautious instead of being under-prepared. With the Chief of State having recently stepping down, there was no clue how any of those politicians and military officers would react. Thus, Lucifel had most of his unit aboard his flagship, ready to deploy to any planet were news of an attack to occur.

The party was a good way to strengthen bonds, but left the Empire at risk. Everyone was at the same location, Lucifel admitted that the Nova Guard were more than qualified to defend the partygoers. However, the issue Lucifel had was that most of the top brass had gone to the party, leaving large portions of the Imperial military undefended, thus why Lucifel was in his current position. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't 'attend' the party.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Geist Weiss' shuttle arrived at the palace's entrance. He had been so focused on a project he had been working on that he hadn't realized the time... or rather, date. After devouring a meal during the trip, Geist was ready for the party, even putting on a crazy outfit that had come with a fake afro. As he had disembarked, he noticed Darth Anima carry whiskey into the palace.

"Great..." groaned Geist.

Geist walked patiently to the entrance. Two Nova Guardsmen stopped him.

"No weapons allowed, sir," stated a guardsman, noticing the two lightsabers clipped to Geist's sides.

"You just let a Sith Lord go in with whiskey," argued Geist. "That's definitely more dangerous than a simple Sith Alchemist with a lightsaber." Upon noticing the unmoving brows of determination, Geist sighed. He forfeited a lightsaber.

"And the other one," the other guardsman said. Geist tossed the second lightsaber to the guardsman.

A mechno-chair approached the three men. A hologram of Lucifel appeared.

"And the two hidden in your sleeves," added Lucifel. "And strapped to your legs..."

After a minute or two, Geist had surrendered six more lightsabers, two daggers, four blasters, the afro that had secretly contained a small cadre of explosives, and a stun baton. By now, the Nova Guardsmen weren't too pleased.

Geist shrugged in mocking innocence. "Can't have enough protection, right?"

The Nova Guardsmen gave the same notice about security they gave everyone and allowed Geist and the mechno-chair inside. They were greeted by an ultrachromed protocol droid. Each gave the droid their introductions.

"Sith Alchemist Lord* Geist Weiss, Sith Master of the Sith Order," announced the droid. "And Grand General-" the voice shorted out a little but quickly refixed. "-Lucifel of the Imperial Army."

After walking down the steps, the two individuals went their separate ways. Geist wandered around while Lucifel's mechno-chair marched over to Buro and Kelvin. The two admirals of different ranks were discussing the alliance with the Chiss.

"The Mandalorians are indeed a threat, but not one as great as the Jedi and Galactic Alliance," said Lucifel. "In the past, they've prized honor over life and territory. They'll possibly stick to head-on tactics, though this new Mandalore seems determined to do otherwise. However, the alliance with the Chiss serves more to keep the Mandalorians out of our hair so we can focus on the Galactic Alliance. If we focus on two fronts instead of one, we risk dividing our resources and weakening ourselves." He then ended by salutating greetings he had not yet given. "Hello, Admiral Kelvin, Grand Admiral Bruno," he couldn't resist using it after hearing the Grand Admiral get angry over the admiral use it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Grand Moff Ein Morgenroete of the Yaga System," announced the protocol droid.

Many politicians tended to smile and wave to people, but Morgenroete preferred practicality over appeasement. He strode down the stairs and after hearing the whines and obnoxious cheers of the soldiers partying at the gathering, the Grand Moff decided he needed a drink.

Morgenroete reached the bar. He was the type who didn't drink often, preferring to stick to what he knew. However, his beloved drink was not available when he asked, thus the bartender allowed the Moff to think of something else.

Morgenroete noticed the Grand Vizier with a drink. The bartender had called it Cortyg Brandy.

"Any good?" the Grand Moff asked the Grand Vizier.

 

[Kassa]

A very dark atmosphere seemed to cloud up the foundation of the Imperial Palace. It was clear Grethallion had arrived, because this music strangely started to play. Her tall thin frame was accented by a Victorian-styled gown. It was very odd, the woman was usually adorned with robes unless she had Senator duties. What was even more odd was to see her hair. It was a white coloring. It seemed to pulsate and shimmer, like polished bones.

The elderly woman was also accompanied by her DarkHound. It was wearing a golden, diamond embued necklace. It was obvious the woman was trying to look civilized. Dathomir wasn't very technologically advanced, save for the slave compounds and offices Grethallion had poured all of her effort and finances into. The offices doubled as communication networks. The main one was set up with a holographic communicator, along with sleeping quarters for Nightsister society's finest.

But this convention wasn't about the Nightsisters. It was about an alliance between the Empire and Ascendency. The Sith have had problems with the Nightsisters in the past and recently. The elderly woman was walking a fine line indeed. She must be precise and careful with how she speaks, less she anger or frustrate the alliance.

The Moff continued walking through the crowd, sizing everyone up. She saw a side of a Zabrak she hadn't expected to so far. His shininess would make her close her eyes if they weren't pupil-less and so heavily bruised from the Dark Side. Her DarkHound followed closely and obediently

The amount of spice and booze in the room was a tad bit unnerve racking. It was obviously a time for celebration, however a drunken stupor can leave to bluntness which can lead until hostility.

Grethallion seemed to float about the halls, trying to find some sophisticated place. With any luck, she'd find one. And some information about Muunilist.

In the end, the elderly woman overheard talking. An Admiral and a Grand Admiral conversing? And they sounded sober! Could it be? The female approached them and offered a stiff bow of respect. No doubt she expected the same from them. The Nightsisters were well-known for their strength. And the aura given off by Grethallion said something as well.

"Grand General Lucifel, Admiral Kelvin, and Grand Admiral Buro...,"[COLOR] she began, casting a glance at Lucifel's hologram. "So nice to see you. I thought I was coming to a civilized meeting. This is much more a rave... Still, it's good to see that a few sober people remain. Now, you both must have had a part in the Battle of Muunilist. Tell me, tell me. What happened?"

 

[Static]

Fauxl entered the reception room after barely half an hour of being lost within the building. Hopefully, however, nobody had noticed - although she had earned some peculiar looks and stern advice from the Nova guard.

Mingling was not something she had ever been good at, and so instead she headed to the bar. After embarrassedly ordering a Blumfruit juice, and after explaining that sugar had the same effect on her species as alcohol did on humans in an attempt to save face, she took up seat on one of the barstools and surveyed the crowd. It seemed every corner of the Empire was accounted for; with representatives from the Sith, Navy, Military and the Chiss all gathered together at the social event. From lowly stormtroopers to the collection of Admirals and Grand Admirals that sat a few meters away at the bar, the place was picture of the Empire as it stood.

Sipping from her Blumfruit juice, she opened her datapad and began to take notes on the hierarchy of the event.