Log:New Alderaan: To Be Better

A dinner date with Duke Alde

OOC Date: December 23, 2020
Location: Riso Steakhouse, Hanna City, Chandrila
Participants: Chani Tahn, Jaron Alde, Aryn Cole

The word had been given. Travel had been arranged. Now Jaron had been on planet for perhaps eight hours and of course they didn't even have his name plate on the door yet. So what was one to do? Find a cheap hotel. Perhaps meet his patron for dinner? Yes, that would seem to do the trick. And so it was a reservation for four. One never knows who might want to come along but a table for two implied a certain intimacy he didn't feel was warranted or appropriate to the rumor mill. After all, he was an eligible bachelor. So now he waits at the table for his esteemed compatriot from New Alderaan, doing his best to look dignified with his 'new' eye patch emblazoned with his house crest.

Aryn's arrival is not long after. She steps through the front and is brought to the table where Duke Alde sits awaiting their presence. Aryn is a short human female of bright blonde hair and pale skin. She wears a green and brown tunic, clearly designed for fashion and comfort, with a long cape of white etched in silver. Her cape is fastened by brooch, an electrum white-gold, that captures the glare of the light favorably in her approach. When she arrives, she's pulling her gloves from her hand to reveal her hands, nails painted to match and skin just as pale as the rest of her. "Your Grace, Duke of Alde, good day.. good day." Aryn's accent is the one he might be accustomed, with the proper ring of posh and a tune for high birth. When Aryn pulls back her hood, she reveals her fair face that's marred only by the presence of a scar over her left eye.

Arriving with the Princess of Alderaan is another woman of the same height but far different features, wearing attire that is not as fashionable as the noble's, but comfortable and in tones of grey. "Your Grace," Chani intones as way of respect, following the Princess' greeting but otherwise remaining quiet and slightly behind the noble. She glances away from the pair after, sweeping her dark irises across the steakhouse in a moment of curious study that seems no more than an astute discernment of their architecture and atmosphere. The long fit of her outer shell is drawn close around her, exposing the loose top and trousers through a narrow band that runs down its middle. Moments later, her gaze returns to train itself onto the table and present company.

Jaron rose from his chair the moment Aryn came into view. Slowly, stiffly, but he moved and stood proudly. "Highness." The smile that he offered to her was genuine as was the neat courtesy he offered by way of a slight bow before gesturing to the table before him. "I took the liberty of ordering a bottle for the table." Somewhere in the midst of a half dozen languages lies the nobility of his birth but he's been a number of years away from such circles what with the rebellion and then the resistance. Still, it is not a thing lost so much as reborn. "Miss." His tilted chin offered to Chani is curious for he does not know her and so he extends his hand in greeting to her, "Jaron Corvik, Duke Alde, Representative of New Alderaan." The title seems to amuse him as he glances towards Aryn. Perhaps it is the notion of being the 'representative' when the Princess stands before him.

"Wonderful," Aryn answers, finishing with her gloves and tucking them to her belt. When he addresses Chani, Aryn replies. "This is Chani Tahn of the Naboo. She is my close friend and trusted companion." Rather than sit immediately, Aryn steps aside to allow staff to pull their seats. She sits when prompted and draws closer to the table, smiling. "I trust your travel went well? New Alderaan is quite the jump from Chandrila." Aryn, is of course, addressing the noble statesman as she finds her comfort in the chair by making a few adjustments. (Namely her cape.) Alderaanians and their capes.

"Shiraya's blessings on you, Your Grace," Chani does not take the extended hand, but instead bows formally to the man. She refrains from repeating her name. The Princess has handled the introductions, necessitating that she need only join them at the table once the chair is pulled for her. She slips into her seat only after the Duke has taken his, showing some semblance of understanding etiquette when it comes to the hierarchy of social classes. Once at rest against the upholstered cushions that mold against the shape of her body for maximized comfort, as befitting such a prestigious restaurant, she casts a sideglance towards the Princess adjusting her cape. Alderaanians and their capes, indeed. Chani needed only to pin the hanging tail of her outer shell with some slack when sitting, ensuring she is comfortable and that the garment isn't restrictive. Straight postured, Chani's hands settle into her lap.

Jaron eases himself back into his chair once the Princess is settled and it seems Chani is waiting on him. His attire suggested a cape.. likely checked at the door. As he settles, he leans a little to his left with his elbow upon the arm of his chair, "And so it was." He offers in wan reply to the Princess. "But not without merits. Chandrila has always been a pleasant destination though I already miss New Alderaan. I'd almost gotten settled there. Almost." There's a turn of his attention as the waiter arrives with the chilled bottle previously ordered and pours for the trio before settling it into the bucket to remain chilled, "Now it would seem I must find apartments here if I am to host gatherings of any privacy. I.. have a few notions to make my priority in the senate.. but perhaps this is not the most discrete place to discuss them. Instead, I offer a toast to your efforts thus far in even allowing us a voice to give the galaxy once more." And so he takes up his glass, lifting it with his gaze in the direction of Aryn, "To the rise of Alderaan; from the ash of defeat to the flame of hope rekindled."

"Hopefully, we can make some arrangements for living quarters suited to your needs." Aryn replies, glancing up when her glass is prepared and filled with the selected vintage of the eve. "Thank you," She says, and claims the flute when the Duke speaks of Alderaan and announces a toast. "A stirring toast, your Grace. Alderaan endures," She adds and smiles, then tips her glass up and draws from the contents with a slow measure. Afterward, her glass is set to the side. "Have you had much time to interact with your political peers in this new arena? I have found them confounded with what to do over the crisis on Coruscant. What have you you heard?"

Chani's silence doesn't disturb the table and she occupies herself with glancing between the Duke and the Princess until the waitstaff has prepared the drinks. When Duke Alde calls for a toast, Chani's hand finally lifts from her lap to cradle the glass filled with the chosen drink and lift it in turn with all of them. She doesn't intone the same words, not being an Alderaanian, but the spirit of the gesture is there, and she sips modestly from the glass once it's over. Returned to its place on the table, Chani leans slightly back into the padded back of the chair and her gaze takes its turn dancing between the two political figures as they banter. Her full lips fold briefly together, almost vanishing as they turn inwards and then swelling back into shape after her lips no longer bear the remnants of the sip she'd taken.

"Would that I have met my peers as yet." Jaron replies with no small consternation and a small knit of his brow. "But I can assure you they are torn. A great many Coruscanti profitted from the Emperor's policies. That they have no been subjected to the wrath of the First Order remnant will be seen by many as.. just desserts." He regards his glass thoughtfully before finally sipping from it to conclude his part in the prior toast. "But then.. I have been to the undercity. Know that many there who are suffering had no part in it. It is the part of me which calls to action for no one should have to suffer such weapons." He takes a long slow breath, "I have been doing this a long time, Highness. While I would not suggest that I am capable of such a feat.. there is a course of action that I would suggest in response. A measured one that we might even accomplish." The fingers of his left hand drum thoughtfully upon the arm of his chair.

"I would be willing to hear it, though it is not me who needs convincing of action. I, too, have been to Coruscant and have seen first hand the destruction. Fires sweeping across the undercity leave countless homeless; thousands die from the poor air, and even more suffer from injuries with no cause or way to obtain medical treatment. The situation there is grim." Aryn did not speak of the Jedi who had gone in search of these poor souls, to help, only to be attacked and ambushed by the nefarious Knights of Ren!

Aryn spins her glass in place, lowering her gaze to something of a thoughtful expression, her stare heavy. "Share your plan. Maybe it can be something we can put to action." Aryn glances to Chani, then back to the venerable Duke Alde.

The mention of Coruscant is enough to keep Chani's attention from wandering from the table, ill-equipped as she is as a participant on such a subject. Rather than speak, she sips dutifully and regularly from the glass before her, dipping the line regularly down the stemmed glass at a pace greater than that of the two others seated. The partaking comes mostly to a halt when the matter of a proposal rises, and Chani doesn't miss the glance in her direction, nor does she fail to return it. She knows that look in the Princess' eye, and that's why her own attention is given to the Duke in a measure equal to the noble woman's. She fully intends on absorbing everything that can be garnered from what he has to say about the course he has been mulling over.

"As discrete as the staff here may be, I'm not certain you wish me discussing certain details of security so openly." Still, Jaron considers the Princess a moment before taking another sip of his wine and putting it down on the table before him. He daubs his mouth then adjusts his tunic while his fingers play at the threadcount in a carefree manner. "Perhaps, we should consider our meal then adjourn to a more congenial location." Of course, there's something about his body language that says his chair might be not as comfortable as he liked. At least, one might guess at that. He does flag down the waiter, at least.

"Sure, that is a fair precaution. Though I suppose I was more concerned with the plans as a statesman go. Convincing your peers of action will be no easy task. The military is already deployed and held accountable for trade routes. Some might say the problem in the galaxy is the First Order; I daresay it is pirates. Lawless space hinders all progress, but at what point do you balance the lives of Coruscant to the unknown atrocities hidden in the void?" Aryn seems to digress though, sitting back and taking the Duke's cue to think more on supper. "What have you considered for our meal tonight, your grace? Steak? As the name might suggest, or something else?" Aryn searches for the menu, praying quietly to the Mother that seafood is not among the choices of their cuisine this evening.

Chani finishes her first glass with a final, but modest sip. There's a soft clack of the base of the slim stem touching against the table top, before Chani's hand withdraws to once again slip into her lap to join its twin. Chani diverts her attention down towards the table, doing as the Princess does and looking for a menu before averting her gaze over to Aryn's side, wondering if the blonde woman has found it. Her gaze drifts up, then, studying the blonde in her moment of searching and perhaps trying to discern at the gears turning inside. It's almost eerie, then, for Chani to murmur. "I've heard their seafood is delicious, Your Highness." The young Naboo native is obviously expecting some kind of reaction, given the subtle smile on her lips.

Jaron Alde leans back in his chair, picking up his wine glass again, "Princess, you speak to the concerns of the ages. We'll never not have those problems. There will always be the lawless to face. But what the lawless cannot do is destroy planets. Not.. without considerable assistance and time that most criminal organizations short of Black Sun simply are not capable of." He sips his wine. "And he was backed by the Emperor." He takes a slow deep breath, "But.. I can say that I have a perspective many in the senate lack. With luck, I can use it to my advantage." Ahh but the menus appear, "I had thought to enjoy that which they were named for but do by all means order as you prefer, Highness." He flips his menu closed and offers it up to the waiter, "I will enjoy the tenderloin, medium rare."

"Is that so..." Aryn says with some humor in response to Chani. "Well, you should be delighted to get what you desire of it.." Seafood that is! Aryn glances up as the Duke orders, and she smiles when the waiter regards her. "Just so.. I will have the same as the gentleman." Aryn lifts her glass and sips the contents. Aryn quiets to allow Chani a chance to order, though her gaze settles on the Duke pondering what he shared with them. "You give me hope, sir. That voices will be heard, and action of some kind taken."-- "I am told you once served in the Rebel Alliance. Regale us with a story from the past, your grace. My father speaks often of his exploits and I never tire of hearing about them. What of yours?" Aryn's gaze settles over his eye, the bad one that's patched, that is. Alderaanians had a thing about scars.

Chani's laugh at Aryn's rebuttal is quiet, and short, and the smile doesn't last long. "Make that three," the Naboo native finishes off the round of orders by making it simple for the staff on hand. Once again, she slips into silence to watch their conversation from the proverbial sidelines. That attention goes wholesale to the Duke once mention of his service with the rebellion arises. That, at least, is a subject that most Naboo, even as young as her, are quite familiar with. It is in their history as much as any other part of the New Republic, reborn for the third time in the past century as the lines in the war for power over the galaxy continue to wax and wane in favor of one ideology and the next. "We Naboo owe much to the Alliance. I, too, am interested to hear a story." No further encouragement may have been needed, but a little more can't hurt their chances of having their wish granted.

"Well, I cannot speak to your father's exploits.. but I suppose I could speak of a time when my cell infiltrated the Arth-Enno prison on Coruscant." The one Palpatine blew up. "We managed to extract four of the senators and about a dozen other political prisoners before he sent the walls crashing down around us." He casually leans forward to pick up the bottle and top off her wine and his own before offering Chani a refill. "He thought he'd gotten us all, of course, and gloated on his high throne while broadcasting on the holonet how the rebellion had..." Picking up his glass, he gestures vaguely with it, "attempted yet another insurrection only to commit an atrocity in order to avoid capture.. I think was the propoganda at the time. I lived in the undercity for a solid month waiting for the right moment to get everyone offworld." As he spoke, he turned his head subtly to his left so the light caught the discoloration of skin and faint scar lines on his cheek and temple which were largely hidden by his beard and full head of hair. It also gave Aryn a better look at the eye patch and.. a hint at something that might be metallic hidden beneath it? "Now Naboo.. Naboo brings me to an interesting line of thought, Highness. You see, at this moment, there are no major hyperspace lanes to New Alderaan for shipping or passengers and the like.. but I was thinking.. since Naboo is so near.. and.. our ties so strong.. perhaps we might entreat upon them to work together and plot such a course. Naturally, it would benefit both of our people."

Aryn is quiet and reverent of the Duke's time as he explains his story about a time when he was on Coruscant. In Aryn's head, she tried to map out when this might have been. She even wondered if it were a thing she could look up. Old military operations had a way of becoming land marks in many places, though Aryn suspect that Coruscant was a world that was quick to wash away its scars once the culprit was away. "A month of waiting. It must have been stressful," Aryn adds on, punctuating her pause with a timed drink.

When words of Naboo rise, and Jaron explains his thoughts on opening trade negotiations with the Naboo, Aryn glances to Chani then back to Jaron. "It is a charming idea. I have spoken with the Queen on a few occasions. If you feel strongly about this pursuit, you do not need my permission to see it done. I trust your judgment as our statesman, to speak for our people and act in their interest. You, well know this, I am sure. I believe in voicing such trust though. It means more when you hear someone say it."

Cradling her fingers underneath the curved section of the glass and lifting it off the table, Chani angles it for the proferred refill and provides a quiet, "Thank you, Your Grace," to the Duke for his efforts. Nothing loud enough to interrupt his story regarding the Emperor, Coruscant, and what transpired at the prison. She's not coaxed into further talking, either, once the mention of Naboo comes up. As Aryn mentioned, she is merely the Princess' traveling companion, not any political power with the planet she hails from. Such commentary is better left to those with the decision-making faculties to tend to such ideas and notions. Chani merely imbibes more of the drink, though at a measured pace hinting she knows her own limitations.

Jaron shrugs, "Sometimes it took more than that to establish an identity.. a routine.. a pattern.. before actually conducting an operation. The Imperials were very thorough and it took time to lull them into complacency. The First Order on the other hand was.. far more hasty in their pursuit of a foe." His left hand drifts upwards for his fingertips to brush against the lines on his cheek and trace the underline of his patch. "But. They do have one thing in common. Overconfidence." He snaps the fingers of his right hand, "I apologize. Two things. The second is incompetence. I am still here, after all." He flashes a broad smile and takes up his wine glass again.

"Fortunately, my interactions with the First Order have been limited. I served in the Resistance, it is true, but my role was healing. From my perspective, I saw the First Order as a looming presence with dangerous weapons. Bullies seeking domination and compliance. I saw first hand the results of competence as well. Many never got the chance you have, sir. A scar to prove your persistence to live. Maybe others will be inspired by this message you bear." Aryn lifted her glass again and took a drink. This one was a healthy portion, then she sat the glass down. "What do your kin have to say about it?" She was speaking after the Aldes and his survival. Sometimes families were eager for revenge.

The mention of the First Order and the recent topic of Naboo leads Chani's gaze towards the richly stained surface of the table they're seated at. The next draw from her glass is deeper than the ones that came before it. The way its set back into place is almost too quiet to generate any kind of noise, but there is one. A slight tap and almost indistinguishable scrape of the glass base against the smooth plane its meant to rest on. Her gaze lifts after a few moments, chin turned towards the Princess and dark irises settled on the profile of the noble's face. She maintains that pose, flicking only her eyes over towards the Duke with an expression that mimics the inquisition generated by the question the Princess posits him.

Jaron slowly sets his glass to rest on the table again and brings his hand up to massage his beard over a long breath. "Highness.. do not accept a moment of irreverence and relief at being still alive as discounting the toll they have exacted upon the galaxy." His arm lowers such that both of his elbows rest upon the arms of his chair as he leans forward slightly, "In one moment, I lost everything that defined me.. then.. had to redefine myself. While not losing myself. It's much the same as many of us.. all of us.. but how many people can say they were speaking to their mother via holonet when the signal was lost." His jaw tightens a little and he is silent for a time before continuing, "My kin? Those who remained that were sworn to the House? Many of them want revenge, it's true.. and they look to my service in the Rebellion as revenge by proxy.. but we are Alde. The first. If we fall to revenge and a wanton bloodlust.. what does that mean for Alderaan? For our culture? For everything we once stood for? Yes, we once had a military.. but we also chose peace.. somewhere in there we must find a new balance a.. fighting the just war for a greater peace.. without resorting to the methods of our foes. That is the message I hope to bring to the senate. That even though we might be justified in seeking revenge.. we must be above such things for it lessens us as a people."

Aryn nods her head, listening to her elder with the same respect one should listen. For they possessed the wisdom that only came from the hardships of long life and the know how to survive it. Aryn was a student by nature, and students listened. When he finished what he was saying, their food arrived. Each of them was conferred a plate with ample to partake. The music in the place provided a soft background to remind them where they were, and there was gentle chatter from other guests as well.

"That reminds me of a passage I read from an old Rebellion hero. He said we all have a choice." She intones, then raises her glass as if to toast. ".. a choice to be better."