The Festival of Four Moons

[Salem Ave]

There are few celebrations on Onderon quite so highly anticipated as the Festival of Four Moons. Every ten years, the planets four moons – Dxun, Dagri, Evas and Suthre – became perfectly aligned with one another and for ten hours the city of Iziz would be plunged into complete darkness. The festival had its roots, they said, in the old and barbaric rites of the beast riders, who used the time of shadow as a weapon to strike out at the Naddist tyrants who sought to oppress them. Though the cult of Freedon Nadd had been long since overthrown, the arrival of the eclipse was no less important.

As a prelude to the event itself, the people threw extravagant parties and parades, lining the streets of Iziz with all manner of curio shops and stalls. No corner of the city was untouched by the festival. Music and laughter filled the air, as people danced and played at games, winning trinket prizes for their sweethearts. There were other games too, where true strength and skill could be put to the test. There were sword fights and marksmanship contests; even the beast riders themselves were in attendance, hosting thrilling jousting competitions.

This year, however, the festival held even greater significance. It was on the third day of the celebration, at the height of the revelry, that the Hapans would arrive...

[Tartarus Eros]

Tartarus was as excited as a child the night before his birthday. Ten years ago, 8-year-old Eros could only scrabble between legs and try to find a good viewpoint for the festivities. He'd spent most of the time perched, looking out on the tournaments where his heroes would fight each other with heart and steel, and others would aim steady with bows and blasters at targets for glory. It was a day long remembered by the street dweller.

And now once again, the young man readied himself for the festival. Except this time, he intended to compete. The winnings, if he indeed won anything, were much needed. Enough to rent a small place of his own would be like winning a palace, of which he would reign king, until funds ran dry. Of course, he would continue to beg, rob and borrow, for that was the youth's way.

Although an excitement gripped Tartarus' soul with the rigour of a rancor, his calm, composed exterior would fool anyone. With his dirty old robes on and his hood up, he paced the streets towards his arena, following an internal call to fame and fortune. Naginata in hand, knife in his boot and bow and quiver on his back, he marched with the poise and strength of a stormtrooper, with a hunger in his heart that would surely be satisfied by the end of this.

[Jecht Tar]

The palace was abuzz with activity. Servants ran to and fro as they prepared for the festivities. They had things to clean, rooms to prepare, meals to prepare, and all manner of other things that had to be done. For the most part, those not involved in the preparing stayed out of the way. The Royal Guards were no exception to this. The entire regiment of Royal Guards had been assembled, dressed in their finest cloth and armor, armed with their less worn weaponry, and placed about the palace and outside it. It could very well be an overflex of military muscle, but Jecht Tar was unwilling to allow harm to come to the royal family.

He had already spoken with the heads of the Onderon Military and local law enforcement, and there was more then enough soldiers and lawmen out on the streets, there to keep the festivities from getting out of hand, and there for protection should it be needed. He had even asked the Beast Riders to play a prominent role inside the city, but they had refused. This was a special time for them, and most where either celebrating along with everyone else, or outside on their usual patrols. Just because they were technically aligned with the Mandalorians did not mean they would let their guard down. They were still getting the occasional attack from the many rogue Mandalorians operating outside of Mandalore's control.

Jecht stood in the courtyard, his armor gleaming in the sunlight. He had abandoned his usual two swords for only one of his blades, which was strapped to his side rather then his back. His thick black hair was tied back to keep it from his eyes. And, of course, his signature blood red sash encircled his waist. He looked quite respectable to say the least, in contrast to his usual more grubby appearance. One found it hard to stay clean when romping around the palace grounds all day.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She stood stiffly in full Mandalorian armor, two Mandos behind her serving as honor guard. With their helmets on, the trio were carefully monitoring the situation in the palace grounds as servants dashed back and forth, preparing for the Prince of Hapes' arrival.

Most of the Mandalorians were out of the city, holding their own celebration of the eclipse in the Wilds as they had done for centuries. Lilaena had already presided over their first day of wrestling matches and weddings, and now was in Iziz City in an official capacity as requested by the Prime Minister of Onderon.

Now, of course, she was just being kept waiting. A few members of the Royal Guard were loitering across the main courtyard of the palace, surreptitiously keeping an eye on the three Mandalorians. Callidus had promised her that she would not have to be Mandalore for the entirety of the festival, and she was looking forward to at least one evening out of the heavy armor.

Lilaena narrowed her eyes inside her helmet, and crossed her arms in front of her breastplate. She wasn't even sure who it was that was supposed to meet her.

[Lucianus Adair]

Onderon.

It sufficed to say that the former Imperial Force Hunter had not stepped a foot on this planet. Until now, the ancient one had relatively little reason to do so, but the eclipse of the four moons definitely piqued his interest. Aside from Iziz City, the lone civil settlement, the planet was relatively barren and consequently of little interest. In the hours he had spent slowly traversing the Wilds on foot since his secretive arrival, he had encountered little resistance. Any potential opponent was considered with the same eye, regardless of what their overall potential was. Mistakes were not likely taken. Passing through the Wilds, he had taken care not to distrupt the centuries old festivities which the Mandalorians held. Even such a assumedly soulless man such as he knew respect. Do not tread where your presence is wholly unnecessitated. Even so, he kept his presence well hidden, so as to avoid any questioning of his being where he was unfamiliar. If that were to have failed, unlikely as it was, his large frame held a small assortment of well-forged and to a great point, indestructable personal weaponry. A longer blade to the left hip, shorter ones on hidden locations, as well as the customary lightsaber of a wielder. That too, was not visible, and was not used unless absolutely necessary. Usually, other instruments tended to suffice.

Heading on towards the city, the noise, the uproar grew. Being a cautious one, a predator will assess the potential dangers that lie ahead. And he did thus, heightening his scope and range of hearing, and filtering the noise to figure just what he was headed into. It sounded joyful, musical, jovial. There was laughter, the patterned steps of dancing, the blend of instrumentation...There was so many tidbits to hear, but what he had heard was enough: Crowds.

Keh. He thought. Nuisance, at best.

But if he were to be welcome on this planet, such an attitude would not serve him so well for the time being. In such a case, the well formed persona of a gentleman, the kind of front that was so well practiced that the shift between man and monster was seamless. Like a switch flicked on in his mind, and there he was. Polite, well-carried, respectful. With that mindset up front, he entered into the crowds, opening his senses to the almighty current of the Force. The populace would not likely notice such a presence, but he had the distinct feeling that there was more than just the ignorant populace. There is...what lies beneath, so to speak.

I despise crowds.

[Razielle Alastor]

Tonight held special importance for the ladies of the royal family. The Festival of the Four Moons was a much loved, and honored tradition among the people of Iziz all on it's own. The fact that dignitaries from the Hapan Consortium were arriving, to further solidify the tender new alliance with Onderon, greatly increased the relevance to Princess Razielle.

It had been her task to begin with, to travel to Consortium space and petition the Queen Mother, Ishara for naval support against pirates that were causing Onderon no small amount of difficulty. The Prime Minister had selected her for the honor, and she still considered herself responsible for making sure that every detail was seen to, to keep the treaty. The celebration within the palace walls, the state dinner, seating arragments, sleeping arrangements, amusments to designed showcase the finer points of Onderon, hunting, gaming.. She had been working on the details nonstop since they recieved word of the Hapans imminent arrival.

At present, she was finalizing the touches on her ensemble for the evening. As was custom for her, she'd invaded the Queen's personal chambers so that they could use the time to get ready, and doubly to have some relative privacy, to discuss last minute details. Every pale inch of her had been dusted by her lady's maid, Lira, with a soft scented powder to enhance the opalescent quality of her skin and give her a silvery, etheral glow. Standing before a full length mirror, the corseted bodice of her black evening gown was being laced, tightly up her spine. Razielle remained motionless for the procedure, but did chat with Adraudia over her shoulder.

"The progeny are not so awful as their mother.. From what I can gather, there is nothing terribly wrong with either of them. Elaine is beautiful and strong, even if her dame is a harpy. And the Prince.. he's alright, he's just not.. not...". she searched for the right word.

"Arkanian..?", Lira supplied with a cheeky grin, quickly tightening the strings to prevent Razielle from answering.

[Adraudia Basillie]

Adraudia laughed at the comment along with her maid Jaynie. Lira had put it quite bluntly but it was true. To the Princess, there was no man that could equal the Prime Minister of Onderon.

Jaynie was also quite as busy as Lira, helping the Queen into the dress that Victer had imported from Chandrila at a steal, (Her Captain certainly knew how to cut a deal on anything). It was the pair to Razielle's, except it was midnight blue instead of black.

"That is comforting. I grow weary of my talks with the Queen Mother since they amount to nothing most of the time. All she is capable of is saying the same thing five different ways as if I'm not intelligent enough to know big words, or some rubbish. It's rather insulting."

[Tartarus Eros]

With a sigh, Tartarus latched onto the end of the registration queu. An annoying, yet neccessary complication. It stretched for a good few hundred people, and the youth could see others making their way to join.

He was amongst the shortest of the warriors, his wirey frame unmatched within the other competitors. Huge, hairy barbarians gave him mocking looks and laughed. Rich, snobbish marksmen did nothing but give the street boy dirty looks. There were others like him, hopeful amateurs wishing for a chance to claim glory, something better than whatever their profession provided for them.

A few hours passed for the boy before he eventually reached one of the registration tables.

"Name?"

"Tartarus."

"Full name."

"Tartarus Eros."

"And which event do you wish to participate in today?"

"Sword fighting, and...can't I enter more than one?" the youth enquired.

"Most of the tournaments play out simultaniously. If you get knocked out in the first round, you might be able to dash over to another" the official responded.

"Fine, fine. Sword fighting."

"Very good. Go that way" he said, motioning off to the right. "Enclosure 15. You'll be called when it's your turn."

"Thank you."

Tartarus gave the official a nod, turning on his heel and pacing up towards the waiting enclosures.

[Aaron Belargic]

In distant space, the Arbitrator entered the Onderon system. The cerulean and gold emblem of the Hapes Consortium shone proudly on the warships 'wings'. From the command deck of the vessel, situated within the ships hawk-like bow, the whole system could be seen laid out as a dazzling array of tiny luminous spheres, almost perfectly aligned. The stellar pattern was mirrored to the finest detail in the holographic star-chart illuminated before Commodore Aaron Belargic.

“Send word to Prince Tristan's adjutant – we are on course to arrive as per our schedule, in approximately five hours time.”

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

:: Aestiva was in her personal quarters, fresh out of the bath and being tended to by her handmaidens. This meeting was an important event, and she had to look her best ::

[Razielle Alastor]

As soon as she was finihsed being dressed, Razielle turned to the Queen's bed and started poking around boxes and packages that were laid there. Deliveries that had arrived special order. Some for tonight. Some just because. Being females, they had elected to rummage thorugh their treasures together. Lira approached with a pair of black satin heels, to match her evening dress. Razielle turned her nose up at them..

"Oh no.. Not those." since when had Razielle done what was expected of her?

With pleasure she opened a box that had been slightly buried. "Bless Victer..", she turned and held up a pair of soft, ebony nerf-hide boots, the sides of which were decorated with jewels. She slid the butter-soft material up her legs and admired the effect they made against her pale shimmering skin, revealed by the high slit up the side of the skirt of her dress. Let's see the Hapans dare that!, she thought with a mischievious grin. Besides.. they were so cozy!

"I ordered you a pair as well, Your Most Stylish Majesty.."

[Adraudia Basillie]

Adraudia shook her head and slipped the boots on. "You always love a culprit in regards to making a statement, don't you?"

The boots were so soft and comfortable, the dye matching her dress impeccably. She admired them by turning her foot to and fro, watching the jewels light up brightly by the candlelight. "The Advisor certainly has good taste."

She stood and finished preening herself with Jaynie's help in front of the mirror. "The delegation should be arriving with the Prince in the next few hours. We should leave here shortly so we can make sure everything is prepared properly."

[Tristan Alastor]

Elsewhere aboard the Arbitrator, and in equal opulence, Prince Tristan was being 'prepared' for arrival. He lay soaking in an ivory-white bathtub, upon whose edges there perched a trio of serving girls. One held a pitcher of wine, which she drained carefully into the goblet in her Prince's hand. Tristan frowned, setting down the glass without so much as a sip. The decadence of royal life did not sit well with the Prince.

“Your Highness...”

Still vexed, the Prince glanced upwards to meet the eyes of his adjutant, who had entered the room with silent soft steps. The young man, seeing the anger in his master's eyes, quickly bowed his head. Tristan's features softened, realizing his error.

“What is it?”

“Your Highness... Commodore Belargic has asked me to inform you that we are to arrival at Onderon on time.”

Tristan nodded, his eyes distant. “Is that all?”

Questioned, the adjutant brightened inexplicably. “Her Majesty Queen Ishara also sends word.”

As his aide's spirits lifted, so the Prince's fell. He stepped forward, bowing as he handed a slim datapad to Tristan. His gaze touched the screen for a moment, recognizing the security seal of his mother. The message was encoded for his eyes only. Tristan's jaw became tightly set.

“Go, then. Inform ambassador Aestiva... send her to me.”

The adjutant bowed and, with a flourish, he departed, leaving the Prince to read the Queen Mother's missive...

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

:: Aestive had finished dressing, and was preening her hair when the Prince's aide came knocking ::

"Yes." she called. "Come."

[Tristan Alastor]

“Madam Ambassador.”

The Prince's aide bowed deeply, perhaps deeper still than he had for his master. As he rose to stand, his chest seemed to swell with pride.

“His Royal Highness the Prince requests an audience with your Excellency, at the earliest convenience. He bids me inform you that we shall soon arrive to Onderon, and seeks your counsel on matters of great importance.”

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

"Tell his Highness I shall counsel him within the arn."

:: Aestiva gave the man a courteous bow and turned to the mirror again ::

[Razielle Alastor]

"....We should leave here shortly so we can make sure everything is prepared properly."

"Nearly ready, Your Majesty.."

Finishing touches were being added to her ensemble here and there. A small tiara of diamonds was set atop her upswept dark locks. An ivory cameo, bearing the image of her mother, Queen Sindel Shadana, was suspended from a black satin-ribbon choker, secured around her graceful neck. She'd opted not to make a big flashy show of jewels tonight, figuring that simplicity spoke louder than gawdiness. Her eyes were cosmetically darkened, lashes curled, and a bit of rose tinted her cheeks and lips.

She did not doubt that all the preparations within the palace would be flawless. The staff had proven to her, after their ease with the short notice of the Masquerade Ball, that they could handle whatever needs their Queen might have. They would not let her down this night either, in the presence of their new allies from the Consortium.

While the Queen finished with her own last minute details, Razielle took the moment to secure a small, sheathed dagger into the lacy strap of one garter, along her thigh. Gazing askance at the Queen, she thought her monarch may dissapprove, but that given the circumstance, she might do exactly the same thing. Razielle had almost lost something very dear to her, following the last grand occaison Iziz hosted. She was not ever going to be unprepared for the likes again.

Stepping back, she took in the image of genteel elegance before her in the full length mirror and deemed herself ready. A ripple of excitment sent goosebumps up her flesh. She knew the cause, their escort for the evening was quite close. A secret smile hinted at the corner of her mouth..

[Salem Ave]

It fell to Lira, maid to the Princess, to receive the guest to the Queen's chamber. As she returned to announce her ladyships visitors, Salem Ave strode confidently into the room. Lira, already flustered, began to attempt a hurried introduction but was spared the embarrassment by the Prime Minister. “My ladies,” he said, bowing his head. “You are both looking quite radiant... I trust that you are prepared and ready to receive the delegates from the Consortium.”

Though phrased as such, there was no true inquiry in Salem's words. The women stood before him were more than capable. As each of their eyes met, an unspoken accord was made. Their silence spoke volumes. Salem paced forwards.

“I wonder, your Majesty, if I might borrow the Princess for a short while.”

Stood behind Razielle now, he touched a hand to her shoulder. Their image was reflected in the mirror the two women had preened and posed before, and in it there could be seen a glimmering of affection in Salem's expression. Reservedly, he was smiling.

“Only a moment, I promise you.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Razielle was transfixed by the image in the mirror before her. Her besotted gaze hadn't left Salem since he had stepped into view directly behind her. With his hand on her shoulder and both of them dressed in formal attire as they were, she thought the imagery lovely and somehow perfect. To be sure, her public face was often a mockery of the danger that lurked quietly beneath the surface, but her pleasure at seeing them standing toegther this way, that was all too real. She wished she could have the moment captured in a picture..

At Adraudia's nod, she turned and gave Her Majesty a respectful bow before departing. The pair made their way to a small parlor that was adjoined to the Queen's private chambers, she used it for receiving purposes, but it was empty and quiet at the moment. As they stepped within, Razielle closed the doors behind them, affording them a stolen moment of privacy..

[Salem Ave]

In the quiet of the parlor, they could hear the sound of nearby preparations underwary and the more distant clamor of the street festivities. Everything was being decked out in the colours of the two royal families. The whole city was alive with colour. With only a dash of crimson at his neck, Salem seemed comparatively austere, dressed all in gray and without the dusting of jewels and trinkets that lent such polish to the Queen and Princess. He took Razielle's hands in his own and smiled, though some of the warmth seemed to have faded from his features.

“I have... some news.”