A Memorable Evening

[Karl Valten]

Not early, but not too late, a sleek, black with red trim speeder settled neatly to street level before the Russard’s elegant estate. A few passers-by and party-goers let their eyes drift on the strange craft. Many did not recognize any manufacturer to go with the unique design, a rarity really given the wealth of most. Though the occasional keen eye picked out the armored compartments, despite its image as a pleasure-craft.

The quartet debarking from the speeder, however, did draw the most attention with a slew gasps and din of hushed whispering. Donned in the Empire’s finest garb, four Imperial Inquisitors moved to the steps, their names promptly checked off on the guest list by a visibly shaking host (as if he would deny them entrance anyway, but surprisingly the names were there).

Grand Inquisitor Karl Valten himself led the party. Even without an announcement he drew the eyes of all. Very few had even seen an Inquisitor, and not but a few days ago had this very man appeared as an imposing giant clad in heavy armor as he had coldly read charges of treason against several moffs on the holo-net.

But this man here was completely different than the one on the news. Dark-hair slicked back and only a hint a graying at the temples that more accented his visage than detract from it. A flowing coat of deep crimson embroidered with intricate gold-trim draped over an exquisite velvet vest and dark slacks, an Inquisitorial crest graced his left breast. A belt of the finest leather held the coat snug about his waist and held a scabbard and sword works of art of themselves. This look nothing like the terrifying Inquisitor, Karl Valten was positively dashing

The other Inquisitor’s fit the same bill. With along with Valten stood a woman in a shimmering dress that shifted many different shades of deep violet as the fabric rippled. Another older gentleman in a more traditional dress uniform, but no less intricate. And finally, and perhaps most strange of all to the party guests, a Devaronian donning fine silks in soft earthen tones. All three shared two commonalities with Valten, the Inquisitorial crest proudly sewn to the fabric, and ornate ceremonial swords that only seemed to enhance their garb. Even the female Inquisitor’s weapon matched her svelte figure and the scabbard the evanescing shades of her dress.

Valten drew a glass of Coruscant’s finest Emerald wine from the tray offered him and raised it in toast with a smile while the rapt attention still focused on the Inquisitors. “To our most gracious hosts and their splendid hospitality!” Several voices rang out in compliment and offered their toasts, but the overall demeanor of nervousness still prevailed.

“Oi, ah’ though’ this s’a party.” With one swift motion the Devaronian Inquisitor swiped a glass with a flourish and downed the drink in one go. Without breaking stride he tossed the glass in the air, landing it perfectly back in its place without so much as a wobble. “Ah fancy a round or two a’Bacarat, any gentleman r’lady care t’join?”

And with that the tension broke as the guests went back to their business and the Devaronian vanished finding a pair of pretty woman linked in each arm and an entourage of Coruscanti elite on his heels. Valten couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle.

[Roger Phillips]

"Certainly." Roger casually excused himself from the presence of his employer at the other's quietly uttered direction. He proceeded back towards the balcony, pausing momentarily to take stock of those other guests who had arrived. After noting a few he himself would be interested in chatting with, he moved on.

Kazaar still stood on the balcony with the pose of one expecting a confrontation. When he saw Roger returning alone, his face soured.

"Mr Kazaar, I bring Mr Russard's apologies," Roger began quickly, cutting the other off. "Unfortunately, he is unable to get away from his present company just now but he advised me to let you know he will come to discuss matters with you as soon as is convenient. Normally I'd be glad to offer myself as company until he could arrive, but regretfully my duties for the evening prevent it."

The talkative wife of Moff Kindel who had earlier bent the ear of Salem Ave, happened to be passing through the balcony area. She seemed without companion for the moment so Roger gambled. "Madame Kindel," he said, catching her attention. "Would you be so kind as to provide Mr Kazaar with some company while he waits to be attended to?"

The sudden positive attention caused the woman to gush and approach Kazaar like a mynock intending to latch onto a ship's hull. Using the other's momentary confusion, Roger quickly bowed out of the conversation.

"Mr Kazaar," Madame Kindel swooned. "How do you do?"

######

Not long after, Roger found himself back at the party proper, watching as Grand Inquisitor Valten and his companions made their entrance. Approaching Valten from behind, he offered greetings. "Grand Inquisitor, Inquisitors," he said, inclining his head to Valten first, then to his remaining companions. "A pleasure to see you in attendance. My name is Roger Phillips and I am the head of arrangements for the evening. Should you find you need anything, please do not hesitate to call upon me. I-"

The comm in his ear suddenly chimed.

"-apologize for so short an introduction," Roger continued smoothly, no break in his sentence. "However at this time a matter has arisen that requires my presence elsewhere. I hope, however, that we will be able to converse later in the evening. If you'll excuse me, I need to see my staff about an arriving guest."

Leaving the trio of Inquisitors (and passing a server with a drinks tray with a disappointed glance), Roger began moving off. Now, sadly, he had no time to indulge. Instead, he double-tapped his comm system to issue a pre-arranged notice to the staff, then lifted one hand and began making a series of hand gestures. At once, the atmosphere of the party subtly changed. The hired mini-orchestra shifted in the middle of their song and skipped ahead towards its end. The invisible servants moved with even greater urgency and purpose than they had before. One of them quietly approached the younger Jason Russard and politely took him aside from his current conversation, whispering in his ear that he would be needed to greet someone personally at the estate's terrace.

Roger, meanwhile, stood downstairs at the check-in facing a small troop of personnel led by two warriors dressed entirely in crimson. Next to him stood a young woman in her early twenties, wearing a dress that, while nonetheless a very fine fabric, was colored only a plain gray. One of the warriors gestured and Roger calmly stood still as he and she were frisked and scanned.

"I am Roger Phillips, head of arrangements for the evening," he identified himself when they were finished. "This is Dena, former attendant to the old Count of Eiattu. She is here to act as a personal attendant for the evening. Additionally, this is a comm unit with a direct link to my personal frequency. Should anything not be found suitable, it is there to allow my immediate notification."

One of the warriors regarded the small cylinder Roger had handed over. The attendant with a scanner moved as if to check it but the warrior waved him away, apparently satisfied with Roger's truthfulness. He beckoned to Roger and Dena and led them outside.

The grand terrace leading to the doorway, while previously lined with the occasional guard pair, now sported a discretely dressed individual every ten feet. At the end of the terrace a deep black hoverlimo waited patiently; Roger and Dena were led to the large double door in its side where another pair of crimson-garbed individuals stood. The warrior with Roger and Dena gestured; one of his comrades turned and slid the large door open to allow the occupants to step out. Dena curtsied low and held the pose while Roger instantly went to one knee and extended a hand.

The first to emerge was a dark-haired woman wearing a slimming, sleeveless black dress with a double-v neck that left her arms and shoulders completely bare. She wore no flashy jewelry or particularly eye-catching accoutrement. She did not need them. The man at her side and indeed the entire galaxy was her ornament.

The pressure of perfection was on.

"Empress Tarkin," Roger said, kissing the hand she offered into his own. "We are most honored by your attendance this evening. My name is Roger Phillips and as the head of arrangements for tonight I have been sent in advance to welcome you to this celebration in your honor on behalf of our host Jason Russard and the extended Russard family. Mr Russard is currently on his way to greet you personally."

"Dena," here he indicated the woman who continued to hold her curtsy with amazing control, "is here to act as your personal attendant for the duration of the festivities. You have been given a direct line to my personal communicator and should you find anything amiss I will see to its correction personally on Mr Russard's behalf. Is there anything either of us can provide you to enhance your evening at this time?"

[Xavier Synik]

"'Course, we'll have to smoke 'em outside - Roger will have a durf-monkey if I light up here." Outside would also be a good place to escape Lissell's watchful eye, but the Old Man kept that to himself. His nurse was far too concerned about his health for Russard's liking.

A sly smile crossed Xavier's face.

"What type of guest would I be if I refused such a gracious offer?" The tone of his rhetorical question was just sarcastic enough to be playful while not coming across as arrogant.

"Please lead the way." Xavier held his arm out toward the direction he though they would be heading in motioning for the elder Russard that he would follow him through the crowd.

As he did so Xavier hoped that they would not get side tracked by one of the other guests trying to gain the Russard's attention. While it had not been his intention in the least to have anything more then a short conversation with Russard thanking him for the invitation to the gala party, he was not going to turn down the opportunity to enter into further conversation with him.

Following Russard out one of the side doors Xavier found himself on one of the large balconys. The cool, fresh, night air was a pleasant contrast to the air inside. Bringing his eyes around from the fantastic view of Coruscant Xavier noticed Getar. Nodding to the man Xavier turned his attention back to the view for a moment before turning to face Russard.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

“Looking to enter the Judiciary yourself?” he asked

Adelaide had not given the idea much thought. In fact, she had just been getting through each day one by one, glad that she was able to find some reason to do so each morning. Any thought of the future was stunted by the effort of the here and now.

"I suppose Im a part of it by default" she answered. "Guilty by association" she offered with an uncertain smile, a brave attempt at humor.

From behind them came a swell of nervous energy, rolling up to them from across the room and both she and Trix turned as they felt it. The reason was immediately apparent and Trix, helpfully, whispered to Del that the Grand Inquisitor, Valten, had just arrived.

Adelaide shrank into herself a little. She had secrets that would interest the Inquisitoriate and she cast an anxious eye about for Eliessa. Being away from the indomitable Judge's presence, Del felt suddenly very vunerable and uncomfortably exposed.

[Old Man Russard]

"You know V'al Counis do you?"

The Old Man didn't miss much. Synik's polite nod of acknowledgement to Getar, his unspoken "I see you seeing me." Xavier was a smooth one, Russard knew that much right out the gate.

He lit his Saccorian and handed the lighter to the younger man, appreciatively exhaling the aromatic smoke into the night air.

"He's curious about you" the Old Man provided, "We all are" he quantified, following Xavier's gaze out across the grounds. "Guess thats a compliment in and of itself"

Some voices from the room inside reached even to the balcony where the two were standing, floating in from the open doors. The Grand Inquisitor had arrived - his son's good pal. And, some were speculating that the Empress must shortly be here too.

"Are you an Empire man, then Synik?" The question was casual enough, and came with no scrutinizing glance at Xavier. The Old Man was curious as to the calibre of man he was talking to and who he may, in the near future, be dealing with on a business level.

[Miranda Tarkin]

The irony of this entire stunt was that Gallus and Miranda hadn't really planned on attending this event. Since the wedding, the newlyweds have been offered numerous invitations in celebration of their union and her ascension to the Imperial throne. With the Russards, Miranda never actually declined the invitation and she was grateful she hadn't. Sanya's incessant gushing over her newest fling had Gallus rolling his eyes more so then usual at his dear sister. Miranda was still fuming over the fiasco with Belargic and wanted nothing to do with her. But he stood his ground and was far from begging. Big blue eyes pleaded with a playfulness that she had missed seeing from Sorsha.

So how could they not crash the party and have fun with Sanya personally! It could be quite enjoyable to watch her squirm.

* * *

"Dena," here he indicated the woman who continued to hold her curtsy with amazing control, "is here to act as your personal attendant for the duration of the festivities. You have been given a direct line to my personal communicator and should you find anything amiss I will see to its correction personally on Mr Russard's behalf. Is there anything either of us can provide you to enhance your evening at this time?"

Roger Phillips was a man of class, manners and eloquence. He was able to deliver a speech that was probably delivered countless times today, of course with subtle differences depending upon the guest. Yet here he was, speaking as if saying this greeting for the first time tonight. And Dena was simply stunning. Even in her simplistic evening dress, her natural curves were hugged gently by the plain grey color fabric. She wore her hair up by pins and slides that tugged at fond memories of Miranda's former assistant, Amanda Sinclair, who was brutally murdered by the hands of Vega Van-Derveld. She would have to see if she was just as competent as her Amanda. Looks were only looks after all.

As Dena rose in greeting, Miranda already smiling face inched upwards further once their eyes met. "It's good to meet you both and I thank you for assigning Dena to myself and my husband."

The perfected introduction arose and Miranda's slender arm entwined with that of Baron Gallus Tagge, and swung her husband towards their hosts servants. As the Empress wore black, her preferred color, Gallus was softer in tone with his chosen color of a silver suit. Usually his well kept hair was hung loose about his shoulders, but today it was pulled back into a ponytail. He looked positively dashing.

"For now the greetings of our host tonight will be sufficient." She stole a glance at Gallus with one brow raised in question. "Unless you desire something at this time?"

[Travis North]

"Eliessa Corta, of the Order of Solomon" she answered pleasantly. No bells rang for North and the Judge's smile broadened, having anticipated the non-response. "Of the Judiciary Department" she explained. "Im currently investigating the Imperial Inquisitoriate regarding a large number of missing Moffs." It was a decent enough volley, if a little impolite, but Corta wasn't much of a stickler for proprietry. North kept an impassive expression. She continued, "Not that I'd expect you to know anything about all that Commodore, different branch from you entirely isnt it..?" Her smile remained fixed, but her eyes suddenly gleamed quite shrewdly at Travis. "Am I right?"

"Well not entirely different. In some cases Moffs are ranking members of the military chosen to oversee military operations in their given sector. I know a few, in fact now that you mention it I haven't heard back from a good friend, a Moff Kerry, in some time. He may be one of those missing." He paused just a second before deciding to take Eliessa further down the rabbit hole. She seemed the sort to run a lead into the ground and this party wasn't exactly the best place for that to happen. "His sector is plagued with ion storms though so I just assume it's interference. Perhaps I should contact you later on if I don't hear anything. Missing Moffs is a serious matter."

With any luck he'd be able to avoid exposing what he knew while on Imperial Centre and finally set his own plans into motion. This night was off to a good start.

A server passed by with drinks and Travis took two, he handed one to Eliessa flashing a gentleman's smile. "Would you join me for the early evening madam. I'm afraid I don't know many of the people here tonight and would welcome the opportunity to be introduced to those I'm sworn to protect."

[Vince]

"Guilt by association."

Trix grinned and chuckled at the corny, but still amusing turn of phrase. And feeling that same swell of nervous energy from the front of the room, they both turned.

"It... it's the Grand Inquisitor," he murmured in her ear, not quite absorbing the information himself. He felt her shiver a bit beside him, and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he stepped a bit closer to help her feel a bit better. Or, as much support as he could give her for that matter; he hardly knew the woman.

Gently he took her by the elbow and turned her away from the grouping at the front of the room.

"It'll be alright," he murmured. "Even if you by some odd chance do have something of interest to the Inquisitors, well..." he paused, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Well, as long as you're by me they won't suspect a thing, I'm guessing. Never liked them much. Too caught up in the 'you're scared of me and I like that' act."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"I dont have anything to hide" Adelaide answered quickly, but managed to look more by the minute like she did. "Why would you--what makes you say that?" She was speaking quickly, too quickly, she knew. She tried to stop herself from saying anything further but Trix had picked up on on her fears so fast that it was panicking her. "No one wants the attention of the Inquisitoriate" she said defensively, "..Anyone with half a wit to them."

Adelaide allowed Idalix to lead her further away from the Grand Inquisitor and his small group, the large Devaronian drawing most everyone's attention by calling for a game of cards. Del attempted to settle her self down and do some damage control with her present company. She did not want to alienate the first person who, as yet, knew nothing of her past and seemed keen enough to take her at face value.

"I've just heard stories, thats all. Those Inquisitors give me the creeps. Even the uniform he's wearing - reminds me of a spider just waiting for someone to come along that he can gobble up."

[Eliessa Corta]

Corta gave North a measuring look before she answered. He had hinted quite boldly at where his sympathies lay in regards to her current investigation and the offer of collaboration was not something to take lightly. What a surprising opportunity. She had thought perhaps of gaining certain advantage from an amicable relationship with the Commodore, part of her purpose in seeking him out tonight. His access to sensitive Naval information that might shed light on the missing Moff's would be quite a boon, should he be so obliging. But would he be so willing? And, even more importantly...why would he be so willing? Eliessa determined not to look a gifthorse in the mouth and seize whatever North may offer. Afterall, Atrapes had proven a closed door, slammed and locked quite rudely for that matter, and any cooperation would be welcome regardless of the motive.


"We shall help each other then" she said, accepting the offered glass. "I believe Moff Kerry is among the missing, but that conversation is for another place and time." Corta had noted the Grand Inquisitor's arrival -- another surprise. She had not expected he would come. Inwardly, she wondered if her chat with Inquisitor Atrapes had made it even as far as a discarded memo laying about collecting dust on Inquisitor Valten's desk.

"Tonight, I am more than happy to introduce you around. Is there anyone in particular we should start with?"

[Rekoj]

"That accent of yours Sasseeri. Entirely too sexy." Rekoj mused with sly smile that deepened the dimples in his cheeks. The Inquisitor may have been speaking to the Vigo hanging lightly off his arm but his eyes and ears were focused on the circus parading about him. Not that any of the other guests could hear it but the carnival music had already begun to play in his mind.

The Inquisitor unhooked his arm from Sasseeri's and with a flick of style shot out his cuffs making sure they looked proper. His hands then fell from his simple black suit to the dark red silk of his shirt collar, unbuttoning it. Much better, he thought to himself, as he pulled off his black tie and hung it from a nearby plant. Like a Thulian moth twisting free from it's cocoon Rekoj stretched wide reveling in his newly unveiled form. Upon bringing his hands down, his right gained momentum, ending in a firm slap against Sasseeri's behind. The act of which was audible enough to draw the shocked attentions of several guests.

"Try to behave yourself." He gave a squeeze, "Madam." His eyes rolling back with an obnoxious grunt of satisfaction as he savored the flesh in his grasp. Then with the beat of some unheard music he began to swagger toward the gathering, or more particularly, a server with a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. Some sort of fruit ball dipped in a red sauce. Rekoj inspected the morsel through pinched fingers before tossing it into his mouth. They weren't bad, he thought approvingly, quickly snapping up several more into his palm before the waiter could escape the disgusting sound of the Inquisitors loud open mouth chewing.

Some commotion near the entrance had drawn the nibbling Inquisitors attention. Not that it distracted him from using his palm to force several more of the snacks into his already full maw.

“To our most gracious hosts and their splendid hospitality!” Ah, Valten was making his entrance. The sweet taste of the appetizer had somehow abruptly turned sour in Rekoj's mouth.

"Veritas Vincit." Rekoj let the words drip from his lips like bile. A quick hand snagged a nearby waitress. Another was used to pry her hand open in which he spat the chewed remnants of the sweets. He then closed her hand over the chewed sludge, turned her around, and gave a shove sending her away.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was workin' on his second cigar when Phillips suddenly showed up 'gain.

"Rog where th'frack is Russ-"

"Mr Kazaar," A voice soundin' like some kinda whoopin' bird suddenly kicked up. "How do you do?"

Th'frack? A middle-aged woman with bleached blonde hair, tryin' t'fit into o'dress that sure as hell didn't fit 'er right, dashed up t'im.

"I'm Moff Kindel's wife. You know, the one who looks over the Sluis Van Shipyards. What is it you do? Did you ever think you'd be invited to a party such as this? We don't have those kinds of parties on Sluis Van, my husband thinks they're boring but I love them so much. Did you know he was told after he was done in the Sluis Sector we could be given a larger sector, closer Imperial Center. Even more chance to go to parties such as this. How did you get invited to this party anyway? I guess it doesn't matter, the fact we're all here is. Do you like the Empire? I think it's wonderful. The fact there are so many aliens just drives me--"

"Look lady." Kazaar's finger rose up inna warning gesture. "I ain't th'kinda guy t'stand 'round here like a rock-vulture, wonderin' what th'frack I'm gonna do an' askin' everyone else what th'frack they wanna do. Ya wanna talk 'bout stuff, that's just damn frackin' fine with me. But if you're gonna ramble on'n frackin' on, 'least go find some kinda dunderhead who'll listen to ya. 'Cause I sure as hell ain't going to."

"Well..." Th'crazy dame looked like no one'd even talked t'er like that. She stormed out a moment later, th'look on 'er face priceless.

Kazaar smirked'n turned back t'is cigar. Just as th'Old Man an' some other guy walked out. Kazaar gave 'em a nod in greetin' but didn't interupt 'em. Frackin' Rog, where th'frack was th'younger Russard.

[Getar V'al Counis]

He was about to close the distance between himself and old Jake and that Synik fellow when he became aware of someone else sharing the balcony.

Fascinated, Getar witnessed the way the fellow - unkempt kind of guy, odd suit - took care of Kindel's harpy of a wife. Took some guts, that. So, distracted from his erstwhile goal, he changed his direction and approached the man while fishing for a cigar himself. Always the easiest way of meeting someone, this.

"Have a light?" he said to the man, as he stepped up to him. And then, before the other could answer, he added. "Admirable feat, that. Harpy, that woman is. No idea what Kindel was thinking, marrying her."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Th'fact th'guy was willin' t'pause so Kazaar could answer was a frackin' blessin'. Th'former bounty hunter fished out 'is black butane lighter'n handed it t'Getar. "You're frackin' asking me, pal. Dames...frackin' trouble if ya ask me."

He smirked. "'Course, ya can't live with 'em and sure as hell can't live without 'em."

[Getar V'al Counis]

"Well said, my dear fellow." And Getar, who had lived with his dame for over forty years now and never had any problem doing so, gave a low chuckle as he bent forward to light the end of his cigar on that nice piece of old-fashioned lighter.

This fellow was good entertainment.

"They can be troublesome. Haven't a notion what I would do with a wife like that."

Then he remembered something, and gave a good-natured sigh. "Not that I would always know what to do with the one I have, either."

And, before the opportunity could take evasive action, he asked: "You got one?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar's eyes flashed a bit. "That business o'yas?" Then he remembered he was at a frackin' party'n had to, as th'Kid put it, "Be nice."

He then gave o'shrug as if t'say he was 'sorry' without havin' t'actually say it. "Used t'have one. Split up o'while back. Prob'ly best f'both o'us." Kazaar took o'few puffs from his cigar. He frackin' hated parties. 'Specially when he couldn't get drunk at 'em.

"Ain't th'kinda think I like talkin' 'bout. Dames...frackin' crazy."

[Xavier Synik]

"Are you an Empire man, then Synik?" The question was casual enough, and came with no scrutinizing glance at Xavier. The Old Man was curious as to the calibre of man he was talking to and who he may, in the near future, be dealing with on a business level.

Xavier took his Saccorian and put it to his lips before following it with the lighter.

A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips from Russard's question as he puffed on the cigar lighting the tip.

"Only Empire I am concerned about is my own." He smiled and took a long drag on the cigar before letting the smoke out of his mouth slowly, and then chuckled slightly.

"I kid...well mostly. Mr. Russard, I could give you a line of bull, but that would be a waste of both our time and an insult to your intelligence. So I'll give it to you straight." He paused again for another drag, he could see out of the corner of his eye that Getar had moved on over to where Kazaar was standing.

"The Empire is something I respect, but it is far down my priority list. My concern is my company and continuing it's growth. Don't get me wrong. If the Empire showed up on my doorstep I'll do business with them, might even give them a discount." Xavier smirked. "But if your asking if I'm one of those businessmen who spend more time here on Coruscant trying to curry favour with the polititians betting their company's entire existance on whether or not they get a piece of the pie rather then actually spending time to make sure their pilots have cargo to haul, then no I'm not."

Again another pause for another drag of the cigar. It was the truth for the most part. Everything except the part about giving the Empire a discount. In reality Xavier was more likely to charge them twice as much and have the cargo encounter an accident during transit so he could claim that part of the shipment had been destroyed, thus allowing him to make sure it got into the hands of those who could make better use of it.

[Vince]

Trix smiled, letting her calm down before speaking.

"Everyone has something to hide," he said, and suddenly his smile didn't seem so carefree. "I didn't mean to imply that you had something in particular to hide, but just in case. I've heard that sometimes people who never would have thought that they knew something important provided the information necessary for great victories or brilliant strategies."

"I've just heard stories, thats all. Those Inquisitors give me the creeps. Even the uniform he's wearing - reminds me of a spider just waiting for someone to come along that he can gobble up."

Trix lost the smile and replaced it with a grin, much more light than the previous expression.

"You know, I can see that," he replied, "And it only makes me want to never meet him even more."

They were almost clear across the room from the newest additions from the party, and the oppressive air the Inquisitors brought with them wasn't nearly so choking.

"Feeling better now?" he asked.

[Jason Russard]

Jason looked about for his daughter, tugging at the cuffs of his jacket as he did so. He had hoped to speak with Karl Valten but the Grand Inquisitors arrival had timed poorly with his own ability to get over to speak to him. There would be time later, he decided. Ah, there Estelle was with that splendid Mili girl and Cristobal -- chatting with some Imperial fellow who was quite, quite tall. A moment to catch her eye -- there it is -- and Jason inclined his head as if in signal, to which Estelle immediately responded. Politely extricating herself from her conversation the youngest Russard came over to join her father.

"She's here then?" came his daughter's query.

"Just arriving now" Jason confirmed, smoothing his jackets' buttons a little nervously.

"You look great, Daddy" she assured him.

Jason offered Estelle his arm, which she in turn took, and the pair of them moved over to the entry hall in order to welcome Her Imperial Empress, Miranda Tarkin. He was so proud of his daughter, of his family and tonight he was proud of Coruscant coming out as they had in all their finery to greet the Empress. Well, not everyone was fine, Jason had to acknowledge as they passed a small distance from Rekoj. "Who is that vulgar fellow?" he asked Estelle, who simply shrugged. She had no idea. "I'll ask Roger afterwards..." Jason murmured absently and then, as if on cue, the Imperial guard stomped their left foot collectively and, in unison, stood ramrod straight as a breathtaking creature stepped forward into their view. Empress Tarkin. Jason found his mouth had gone completely dry and he had to resist the urge to moisten his lips with his tongue. She was exquisite and completely monopolized one's attention, so much so that it was Estelle's gentle nudging of a discreet finger on his hand that her father at length moved his gaze from Miranda to also take in the Royal Consort, Gallus Tagge. He remembered the appropriate protocol and with a half-bow he welcomed them to the Estate.

"Empress Tarkin, Baron Tagge" he acknowledged each in turn, "it is our honor to welcome you this evening. I am Jason Russard and may I introduce my daughter, Estelle. We are very glad that you could come. Please accept our congratulations on your ascension and hope you will know that we are all here tonight to wish you great success!"




Dena stepped forward to gently guide the small group, suggesting they all move inside. Roger, who was discreetly moving in the background was ready should anybody need him, even though they knew him to be three steps ahead of everyone in anticipating any such thing.

Jason and Estelle fell to either side of the Royal Couple and let them pass in ahead of them, a few members of the Imperial guard moving ahead also in an obvious show of protection and stern watchfulness, ushered the entire group in.

[Salem Ave]

In comparison to his previous partner in conversation, Miss Shadowstar was surprisingly frank. Though the Empire was biased against so-called alien species, in such polite company the matter would be danced around as carefully as could be – providing the alien in question remained at least human in appearance. Studying his new companion for a moment, Salem wondered which near-human race she belonged to. There was a slightly pinkish blush to her flesh, but that could have simply been on account of nerves or the free-flowing wine.

“Yes, I am quite grateful that the Russard's should think to take an interest in myself and Onderon...”

She was venturing towards something, something that she had deemed inappropriate to come right out and discuss. What that was would have to wait, however, as a sudden flurry of activity had claimed almost all attention. Singularly outfitted guards had appeared seemingly from nowhere, their arrival as clear a sign as any that the party's guest of honour was now in attendance: the Empress herself.

“If you will excuse me, Miss Shadowstar...”

With a casual smile, he began a slow stride away from his all-too-brief companion, aiming to set himself in the path of the royal entourage.