Bring Me the Head of Ishara Alastor

[Razielle Alastor]

As they arrived at Star Home, Razielle's demeanor shifted slightly. She softened, visibly becoming less rigid and more relaxed. Apparently completely at ease with the situation. She glanced down at her sleeping daughter. Beatrix seemed to not be bothered by the unfamiliar surroundings either, but that did not mean she wouldn't protest upon awakening. The little Princess was dressed to match her mother in angelic white, trimmed with royal blue and silver. Her dark curls provided the perfect frame for her sweet face. She was the very image of both her parents.

Luckily, her coloring would pass for being Tristan's as well..

Resigned to getting through the formalities as quickly as possible, all the sooner to arrive at their true purpose, Razielle rose. She lowered the infant into her specially designed hover cradle, the repulsorlift technology would keep the baby floating along at her waist level, so that her own hands and arms were free. Unsure of their status within the pecking order of the Consortium, Razielle was fully prepared to humble herself before the Queen Mother.

Right up until the moment she cleaved off her head..

[Salem Ave]

In a perhaps unexpected twist, the Lightning Strike was the only ship in the process of arriving into Star Home's docking area. There were other vessels on board deck, but their engines were cold and only a handful of maintenance staff watched over them.

They had landed, it seemed, in one of the sub-strata of the peculiar city-ship. A turbolift would take them to the surface and the 'city' itself, to which a patrol of newly arrived guards would convey them. Unlike the crew of the shuttle, who had been entirely male, their escorts were female: tall, sinewy woman in royal blue tunics, belted and trimmed with gold piping. There were ten of them in total – hardly a sizable entourage – and of the group one dark-haired, exotically beautiful woman stepped forward and identified herself as the captain.

“Onderon diplomatic party... Queen Mother Ishara sends word that your audience with her majesty has been delayed. You are to be taken to a state apartment in the royal residence, where you will wait at her majesty's pleasure.”

[Razielle Alastor]

To some it would seem odd, being summoned from a far off system so that the Queen Mother could lay eyes upon her grand-daughter, only to be put off with an excuse that they would have to bide their time and await Chume Ishara's fancy. To Razielle, it was a familiar game. She had spent long weeks going through such intrigues. The Lady herself was probably doing nothing more important than sitting on her pampered ass, having some poor fool berated because a speck of dust had the audacity to flit through her revered line of sight.

No, Razielle was not at all surprised. She had anticipated just such a delay.

"Thank you, Captain. That is most gracious of Her Majesty.", she nodded, publicly accepting Ishara's magnanimous hospitality for the time being, despite the fact that she would rather just get it over with as soon as possible. It was just not Ishara's way to do what those in her grasp expected of her.

The added time would give her longer to ponder the situation. How she could accomplish her ends, without endangering her daughter, or implicating Onderon. Her mind started working even as they were lead into the opulence of Star Home.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena took her place behind the Princess, observing everything they passed through the filter of her helmet. With the technology within the suit she wore at her disposal, she could see things that others might not. Heat signatures. Ultraviolet.

Part of her wondered what it might mean if she actually needed to protect Razielle from an attack on Star Home. It was highly unlikely even the irascible Ishara would order the murder of the Onderonian royal party. But then, one never knew what might happen.

The Dark Jedi gave their female Hapan escorts a nod, noting that the majority of them were guards, as she herself was. She was ignored. No matter. There would be time to test the Hapan security forces later.

[Akasha Khan]

Maiur's mane, these Hapans knew how to decorate!

Akasha had seen - and lived in - such opulent luxury before, but never had she seen such decadence aboard a space station. The alabaster columns, the vaulted ceilings, the elegant statuaries, even fountains, fountains for bloodline's sake! This queen's wealth must be vast; it was little wonder that Lord Callidus wanted Hapes under his sway.

The Orryxian girl felt a sharp nudge in her back and nearly wheeled to remind the sevant girl of her place, until she realized she was a servant girl, too, and she'd been rubber-necking like a silly kitten on a field trip. She had to keep her wits about her and watch for any cues from her incognito master.

[Ishara Alastor]

There was an air of quiet about the royal residence that did not seem entirely fitting of the occasion. When Tristan Alastor had first set foot on Onderon, many months ago, his arrival had been met with celebration and warmth. By contrast, the Princess and her retinue had received a chilly welcome at best. Having been escorted to any empty chamber, they were provided with no entertainment or refreshment as they awaited a summons from their host.

Fortunately, the Hapan Queen did not test their patience long. Statuesque guardswomen lead the Onderonian party to their destination, the vast throne-room of Star Home. The shimmering light of the Cluster filled the domed chamber, whose ceiling was transparent and afforded a stunning view of the stars. Men and women wearing so little lounged about the room, on hand to provide food or wine or entertainment should the Queen Mother desire it.

Amongst such decadence, Ishara Alastor cut quite an austere figure, her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun that stretched her brow into an expression of permanent appall.

[Lucianus Adair]

Hapes.

It wasn't so much the planet he had issues with, as its people. Their vanity was something of disgust with him, though he generally held a look and air of being one that would fit in well and tended to seem quite vain himself. When the Princess Razielle had made her insistent request that he travel alongside her on this visit to the vain Consortium, the first thought in the gentleman predator's mind had been a fair bit unseemly, but he merely agreed to the request, presenting a stoic face over his bitter-tasting opinions of the Hapans. He had maintained a stiff silence for the entire trip, his only observations covering the positions and movements of the other members of the Onderon Party, specifically that of the Princess. As for the others...

There was something about De'Ville that didn't smell right, something that never would and it made him plenty suspicious. All the same, things he would keep to himself.

The opulence of the throne-room of the Star Home did nothing to faze the predator-man of fair face, feminine qualities within it. He had been witness to such grandeur before, another lifetime before this one, and suffice to say his opinions on it had not changed. He truly cared little for physical comforts. When they entered into the area, under the eye of Ishara Alastor, Marsuo'ur'stalis spared an eye to Razielle, then set his iced blue irises back to the Hapan Queen.

Oh, what does this one harbour? Hapan rulers, so alike in their cutthroat and intrigues. Oh what, queen, do you have for us?

Within the fortress of his mind, Marsuo took in every nuance of the room and its occupants, his hands remaining folded behind his back, one prized blade lashed strongly to his side. It was not his intention to stand out, but his build made such intentions difficult to keep to. At mere inches short of seven feet, the predator was on the short end for his species.

[Razielle Alastor]

Leading the party from Onderon forward, was Princess Razielle her chin lifted at a proud angle, her hand resting lightly on the hover-cradle at her side. She could feel the mingled emotions directed her way from those they passed, but appeared oblivious to them.

Curiosity of the foreigner who had married into their hierarchy.

Distrust of her because she was not one of them.

No small amount of venom, and perhaps just a little bit of.. awe, because she didn't seem to give a damn, floating by them all as if she were already born to this life and had just now arrived to claim what was hers.

Upon entering the throne-room, Razielle stopped a respectful distance from the Queen Mother, sinking into a deep curtsy, her pale hand still resting on the cradle that bore her daughter. She lowered her gaze to the floor in submission, until Ishara was so inclined to acknowledge her daughter-in-law, which very well could be several minutes depending on the old harpy's mood.

She could only hope the rest of the party was wise enough to follow her lead.

[Ishara Alastor]

The Queen Mother's icy gaze swept across the Onderonian party, barely taking the time to acknowledge each face therein. Of the gathering, she recognized only her daughter-in-law, beside whom the Hapan Prince should have been standing. Tristan was a disappointment in some regards, and his absence stung all the more now that his sister had fled the Cluster too, but he was worth one hundred of any 'noble' Adraudia Basille might think to sully the Hapan court with. There was only one life amongst them which she cared for, only one who was given more than a passing glance: the child.

“So many of you there are.. and yet my son the Prince does not stand amongst you. Why?”

[Razielle Alastor]

Taking her already impeccably low bow dutifully lower still, Razielle did not yet look up, but spoke at once in a clear voice modulated to a perfectly complaisant tone.

"I beg Your pardon, most beloved Queen Mother...", she came straight to the point answering the question, without skirting the subject, Ishara would not tolerate it.

"Prince Tristan is presently acquiring a command over his new surroundings. He is on an expedition. I did not wish to delay Your request to have our child presented to You, Majesty.."

Presenting Beatrix to Ishara was still the very last thing Razielle wanted to do. It was the path forward though, and the reason they had this opportunity to remove Ishara from her seat of power. To supplant her ideals with their own interests. So long as the matter was handled, how it was accomplished no longer mattered to Razielle. If it were by her hand, or by her accomplice, Mandalore's. As long as Ishara died, all would continue to move forward according to plan.

She could suffer the humiliation of playacting submission and a biddable nature for a while longer.

[Ishara Alastor]

“An expedition?”

The word came out as if it tasted like ash in the Queen Mother's mouth. It was not the place of the Hapan Prince to be tramping through the jungles of Onderon. Ishara's love for Tristan was not what it had once been, but she would not have wished him injury, and certainly not in some beastly pursuit the likes of which had been related to her by some of the Hapan ambassadors to Iziz.

“Disappointing...” Ishara muttered, though the absolute silence in the chamber made the observation seemed more like a damning declaration. She inhaled softly and then, with a short sharp exhalation, appeared to banish the annoyance from her mind.

“Give me the child.”

[Razielle Alastor]

She could show no hesitation. As much as she loathed the idea of it, this was the reason she had been called here. Lifting the sleeping infant from her cradle, Razielle cuddled her close to her chest, hoping the baby remained asleep. If luck held, no memory of this woman would ever poison the child's memory.

Under the watchful and suspicious gaze of Ishara's guards, Razielle approached the Queen Mother, stopping just before her to carefully pass the child over, reminding herself that the child would come to no harm, so long as Ishara believed she shared her blood.

"I present Your granddaughter, Most Beloved Majesty. Beatrix Septima Alastor." Knelt at the Queen Mother's side, she smiled over them both.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The conversation was cold, and tinged with subtext. This old woman on the throne would not hesitate to have the entire Onderonian delegation murdered in their beds if it suited her. Lilaena narrowed her eyes, looking around the room as the Queen Mother of Hapes took the baby into her arms to examine it.

If she suspected Razielle's true intentions, the Hapan showed no sign. But the way she stared at the child made Lilaena tense. Was there something wrong with it?

[Ishara Alastor]

Ishara took the child in her hands, holding it as arms length as looked down the length of her nose at its swaddled form. It wriggled, and warmth of it offended her so much so that a slight tick twitched her left nostril. If there had ever been a maternal bone in Queen Mother Ishara's body, it had long since been ground to dust; there was no place for sentimentality in Her Consortium.

“You have not given her a Hapan name. Why?”