Log:The Shadowport: The Hapan-ing: The Grandest of Grand Gatherings
The Hapan-ing comes to a dramatic end.
OOC Date: December 13, 2020
Location: Jynell Estate
Participants: The Shadowport, Eriu Jynx as GM, Sajin, B'haav Adasta, Sapphira, Khalim, Zhu Yan, Rale, Kaavenn, Netep Muri
The audience hall has been put to rights and amazingly a new window fitted into the one that had shattered days ago. It feels like ages. The conversation already circulating to fill the gilded hall with a sense of energy and something to do is accompanied by a small quartet of instruments. Their music is meant to help facilitate the flow of important figures from group to group so that they can appear to be the most efficient social butterflies known to the galaxy. Snippets from one conversation is moved to the next like some intricate woven tapestry. Here the groups have been deployed, Eriu walking with B'haav and Jyri as they circulate and greet. Marchioness Helene Valris is in attendance as ever in the rich russets of her house, flanked by family members and King as well as Khalim.
The others mingle, watching, keeping track. Kaavenn is a small distance away but one of the two that is watching over this gilded gathering of self important individuals. On Hapes their purposes are build like fragile cards stacked one upon the other. Rale gets a birds eye view in the events above, probably enjoying food he got off the tables before he scrambled. BY the by. The food is absolutely AMAZING. That is one thing everyone can agree on here. Food is the best.
But the quiet tension remaisn. The Queen Mother to arrive any moment. And she does. Using a back entrance after her hover car landed to sway into the room elegantly through glass doors. She is surrounded by her guards and her daughters. Her sons following after."
Sajin had been absent for days. Gone after EJ sent him away on a rather specific mission. Others may not have known what was going on, some did. He was to get close to Ilaina and make sure to keep her away from the Estate so that the group might plan and gather more information for the case against here and Terell.
Where he took her was unknown but something was clear, he had spend an inordinate amount of time with the EJ's cousin in a secluded location. Much of his skills in lieing he picked up from Yan were put to the test... as well as his ability to be that 'hot guy'. You know the type. IT was a complicated excursion, that's for sure.
However, now was the time to bring Ilaina back now that the Queen Mother was here. A very lavish speeder car pulled up, black, with the sigil of house Kah. It looked like an older model and restored. Sajin stepped out first, wearing a uniform in the colors of house Kah... not house Verrni. He turned, holding the suicide doors open, hand out. It was clasped by a very slender feminine hand. Iliana exited the speeder then, joining him and moving towards the Estate entrance.
Sajin had his pistol and sword with him but that seemed about it.
B'haav Adasta moves fluidly through the crowds, more often than not seeming to narrowly miss bumping anyone - a manner he adopted as a young child avoiding the droves of people around the Death Stick sellers back on Balosar while looking for his father. He is always within arms' reach of the Duchess, and Jyri, and always remaining in the background as much as possible (this is Hapes, after all). His steel-grey eyes scan over the crowd nearby and the balconies above, every bit of his energy focused on protecting his charge until this day is done.
B'haav is wearing that deep, deep vantablack Hapan suit with the black bowler - the suit that swallows a little bit of the light around it. One may think him a shadow if not for the gold-and-yellow trim lacing the seams and spidering across the more emphasized lines of his figure. The silver cane in his left hand is now just for show, but he makes a good act of leaning on it for support; in truth, he's ready to brain someone with it if that's what's called for until he can get his vibrodagger out. For a skinny little Balosar, he's not looking too shabby. If only he felt half as good as the suit looks.
in a tiny vent that would not even hold a hapan laying down, Rale is prostrate in his Suppressor Armor, the black plates making him near invisible even if someone cases out the vents above. He plucks a bit of fancy-as-hell salmon and cheese crackers, lifting his visor to pop one in before peering back down the scope of his so-very-illegally modified Tracker carbine, panning subtly from one face to the next, looking for anything standing out. As his fingers tighten on the trigger, they show that his gloves are off, so as to protect his bright red claws. Very nice.
"Looking good, friends. Fancy crowd here, compliments to the chef." Letting people know he's in position in his own way. For all the banter, his large and keen eyes are always watching. "Kaav, you notice there's a lot of Blue in this crowd?" A notice about Terrell and their heavy presence, a soft warning.
It was the day of the big ball and as is tradition, everyone was in a tizzy. Out of sight of the attended gatherers, the nobles, the royals, the glorious womenfolk and beautiful menfolk, the service staff huddled. Kitchens were prepared. Hallways were swept. Arrangements were adjusted to the nth degree to be absolutely /perfect/. It's Hapes, if it were any less someone was getting executed and that might not be a metaphor.
Weaving between the crowds were the unsigned invisible of Hapan society. The workers, homeworld and off-worlders all gathered today, all humanoid if not Hapan. Wait staff with flutes of something bubbly. Impeccably dressed men with blazers and bow-ties carrying trays of food out and back as they are metaphorically inhumed. Others were checking and re-checking the back entrances as the Queen Mother arrived, ensuring zero impediment to her procession. And some where ensuring that the paths to some back rooms where the honoured guests could 'rest their heads'. Or basically have a bit of an expulsion if they imbibed too much of the good stuff.
Sapphira is all femme fatale tonight, with a slinky red dress and lucious black curls piled up atop her head. She even wears gloves on her hands; so classy! Her skin has been darkened tonight to the point where, rather than looking like a sickly Victorian child she instead looks like some Naboo beachdweller. Someone might even use the phrase 'exotic' if they were being weird about it.
She hangs around the edges of the room, wine glass perched delicately in her hand that she has no problem drinking from. Those dark eyes sweep, this way and that until the Queen Mother enters. Then she makes a point to step even further into the back on her saunter around the space.
As swanky an event as Khalim has ever witnessed, these pageantry is so far beyond the Mirialan's experience he simply disregards it in favor of the night's ulterior purpose, and his tasking as a guarantor of Marchionesse Valris's safety this evening. He wears the same posh, somewhat vintage-esque Mirialan-cut tuxedo he'd worn in this very room previously, and blends in well despite his focus, which makes him appear focused and distracted at the same time.
He's essentially retinue at this point, and a dark brown glace is sent King's way, the space cowboy walking on the Marchionesse's opposite side at roughly the same distance. Coverage. The blocky feel of an armpit strapped XT-2 blaster pistol is constant reminder that there is a great deal of potential danger in this room.
As the small procession continues, Khalim's traversing glances fall upon others. B'haav, walking just there, receives a small nod, as does Sapphira, and Yan -- who is fortunately not carting a home-made burrito. He doesn't see Rale, but feels the little bat-man's eyes upon him, even if they are not. Not long ago that would have sent a shiver down his spine, at the likely slug-round or tibana-charged particle bolt likely to follow, but now it's a reassuring presence amid this gathering of potential vipers.
A blind was created for Kaav on high, boxes that will easily move out of his way if bad things happen. Likely he'll just kick them. He's got the EZ-Snap out this time to take less chances, though he keeps it in his hands, it's still down out of sight on the balcony. He murmurs into his earpiece comlink. <<"Sure do, squeak-toy. A lot of blue. Folks with eyes on the Duchess, House Terell's head is making the rounds towards her.">>
Kaavenn has a mixed feeling about this. He's a little more up close and personal than usual. All these fancy dressed people... and he is not one of them. There is an internal silent sigh, as his glowing red eyes stay moving, looking for potential threats and interests. He looks good in a suit. However... he's better off with his rifle and some armor. It'd be a shame if someone tried to take out EJ again. Glorious skillful shot that the last attempt was, whoever the cad may have been.
Netep Muri is on the move, taking a slow turn of the opulent room with a chattering piece of arm candy from House Camden. It's her new bff, Noni, and as lovely as the little blonde is looking this evening, the dusky-hued Muri is only half listening to her prattle. Her other half is tuned in to the snippets of conversation they pass. 'What a /gorgeous/ hair pin' 'Did you try the 1150?' 'Terell estate was attacked! *I* heard it was Jynell....'
Muri halts her steps ever so gracefully, lest she jerk her date's arm out of socket, so fast is that girl gunning for a refill of her bubbly.
"Here, min larel" Muri purrs, adopting her richest of Ibhann'I accents. A tip of her own flute pours the remainder into Noni's glass and she brushes her lips past the young woman's ear. "I'll do the footwork. Why don't you stay here and admire Lady Shi's shoes? Have you SEEN the stones in that heel?"
Before Noni can figure out who Lady Shi is, Muri disentangles her arm and reroutes herself to go sashaying by a particular group of gossipers in her burgundy glitz and glam. Sheer, silky cape sleeves flutter in her wake.
Eriu smiles to those they pass and she looks to B'haav and then back around. The beautiful sash she wears is merely there to hide things but the Jynell House sword is strapped at her side against the green fabric. Her attention is soon arrested by the Queen Mother entering and she moves forward just as she catches the arrival of Ilaina with Sajin, her lips firming into a thin line but quickly erased by the smile that lights up her features. Once the crowd of nobility parts far enough for the Queen, Eriu dips into a low bow before rising. "Be welcome, Queen-Mother. We are glad to have you as this triumphant soiree to celebrate my return to Hapes. We are more than happy to continue our service to the throne."
She motions then to B'haav, "This is my advisor, B'haav Adasta and his companion for the evening, Mistres Jyri." Its truly a strange gathering on Hapes, so many offworlders at a noble function.
The Queen Mother observes quietly before she lifts a motion of her hand. "The Throne World is glad to have its Sword of the Moon back to help forestall attacks and keep our enemies beyond arms length. Carry on, we will speak soon." WIth that she means to move about, slipping away with her entourage to mingle.
Eriu turns about, "Could have gone worse," she remarks.But she's been warned by the talk in her ear and is coming about just as the Duchess of Terell steps up and they begin to talk. Smiles. All teeth. Like they are both waiting to pounce.
The room itself feels the edge of tension grow as the stakes have gone up.
Ilaina looks her part, dressed in House Kah colors. That catches a few looks and there is suddenly a gasp as they begin to speak amongst themselves and it distracts the head of House Terell who briefly has her mask slip, sourness spreading.
Noni however looks at her 'refreshed' drink before she gasps. "Where!?" Distraction achieved as Netep is soon off in a flurry to arrest rumors before they become a wildfire.
It wasn't just that Ilaina was wearing House Kah colors... she was wearing the sash that Sajin had word during the first party hosted here at the Jynell Estate. Something very interesting had happened over the three days he was gone with her, that was certain.
There was something to be said about parading a lovely blond on your arm, and Ilaina could say the same for the handsome drink of tall dark and handsome that Sajin was. The fact they were in House Kah colors spoke volumes in this chamber.
Hazel eyes fell upon those in Terell's camp and the looks that they gave the pair. There was no fear at the death glares, no... Sajin simply smirked, leaned down and whispered something in Ilaina's ear. Raising up after the whisper he looked towards a group of people looking less threatningly and steared them in that direction. Best to let the other's deal with Terell than them to start an incident in the middle of the floor...
Though part of him wished for an open duel challange right here in front of the Queen Mother.
B'haav raises his hand to his ear, pretending to smooth his hairline behind the ear and adjust his hat as he acknowledges the latest information from the sniper above - totally focusing on not thinking about what that sniper's weapon did the last time he was in this ballroom. <<"Acknowledged, fuzzbutt. Eyes out on the ground, over.">> Okay, he had a little fun with that. But then the Queen Mother has arrived and is approaching, and he bows deeply at her approach. When he is named by the Duchess, he bows deeper still until the monarch has continued on. He rises just in time to see EJ facing the approaching head of House Terell.
Beneath the black bowler, his palps rise on their antennae until they meet the restriction of the hat's top; if there is any sign that the Balosar is prepared for any attack, it's hiding right under his hat. He steps one half step forward, though still prepared to cover in any direction his ward for the evening. "Duchess Terell, your house does Jynell much honor to be here in such a potent show of support. I think the room may well begin to seethe as the ocean's tides were one more drop of blue to be found in this chamber." He offers the duchess Terell a half bow, a small smile warming the corners of his lips as he continues to sense for any imminent attacks, or bystanders standing too closely by.
Rale is adjusting his scope, tilting away from it to look over the room in general. Then he pauses. Oh no. <<"Sawtooth, you see this? Terell moving into position across the field.">> Rale adjust himself, reaching out to touch the vent with one hand ever so lightly. One simple push on the loosened grate and it'll fall free, leaving him free to hose the room with high-powered fire.
<<"Team. Terell is getting ready for their move, be ready.">> And he certainly is, poised for intense and immediate violence, all trace of joviality gone, lips curling in a mirthless smile.
It was a dance, and not just for the nobility. The performers had rehearsed their roles to perfection as they weaved invisibly through the seas of blue, green, and other refined and tasteful colouration. One of them, a small slip of a woman, managed to refill Netep 'Walking Shiraz' Meeyuri's glass as she moved from point A to point B in a stunning show of arm twisting and bottle manipulation. House Jynell had only hired the best.
Elsewhere, plates clattered out of the kitchen (but quietly, it would not do to have a plate clatter at above a low whisper) and into the audience chamber, and others returned from whence they came. As guests cycled out and in, some to locate bathrooms, others for a bit of peace and quiet, the staff took note of their presence and were ready for when they returned. For those intending to stay, men and women were moving between guest rooms, ignoring the ones that were locked, and preparing them for habitation.
<<"Big Bad Boss Mama is on the premises.">> Sapphira intones quietly into her wine glass, which will no doubt be picked up by the comms with a slight echo of breath across liquid. <<Imma go make friends.>> And just like that she ambles her way toward a woman in lower-house colors, her face half-covered in a lovely lace veil that no doubt serves as an excellent flirty fashion statement and an absolute garbage germ-barrier. It won't take long for Sapphira to navigate over to this woman, particularly as she tries to stay out of the very subtle shuffle of position that might lead the Queen Mother to catch a politic eye of House This or House That. Her bright red lips smile toward the veiled-woman. "How long does a song-and-dance like this usually last?" She asks in a tone of conspiratorial amusement. "My drink's getting low and the servers have a lot more important people to be busy with than me."
As Marchionesse Valris begins making her rounds, greeting those of opposite houses and making her presence felt within the audience chamber, Khalim's shifting gaze -- head on a swivel -- fixed with a familiar form. The lady of House Camden he had danced with previous, that had shared her misgivings towards Ilaina's favoring of House Terell. His brow furrows as he takes a measure of her troubled body language, and the people with whom she is speaking.
It's a moment later that Khalim spots Sajin's arrival with Ilaina, and their approach brings them slowly in his general direction. He cues his commpatch, hidden just below his shirt collar. <<"Big Ear One, Big Green Thing, I need to break from the Marchionesse. Can you keep an eye on her for a few moments.">> He's just retinue, so he adds a comm to King, <<Breaking party for a moment. Back shortly.>> and peels away from her procession. He tries to keep the group in sight but they are soon swallowed up by the crowd. /Kriff/ he mutters under his breath, but he forges on, to his ill-fated dance partner of the previous week. It doesn't take long to reach her, and Khalim begins with a smile and a friendly, "My Lady, I'm so glad to see*..." And SPLASH, a goblet's worth of sparkling wine is splashed across his face. "YOU!" she glares. "How DARE you approach me. Shoving me under a table like some commoner?" She straightens her back, a regal countenance. Khalim stands there for a moment, dumbfounded, wine dripping down his cheeks, nose, and chin, the roguish tousle to his hair actually kind of accentuated with a wetted sheen. One positive.
The presence of the Queen-Mother is concerning to Kaavenn for a variety of reasons. Granted he has cover as part of the Duchess Jynell's security detail. But... how many Shistavanen's are on this planet. You shoot ONE window, and suddenly everyone is a critic.
Back to work, Kaavenn is trying to cover far too many angles at once visually. There is blinking as he is fairly certain he was just call fuzzbutt. He imagines crosshairs briefly on B'haav and goes back to his job, completely ignoring the fact he called Rale 'Squeak Toy' in the process. Rale gives a heads up. Sawtooth is much better... but this is definitely a Shadowport Op.
Everything is being made up on the fly
Kaavenn spots there is something going on, but is sorting through the pattern without much success. <<"Way too many in One color.">>
"Beg pardon, good Ladies..." Muri descends upon the rumor mill /after/ the fantastical refill maneuver fills her glass with something that matches her gown. For reasons. Could they sense her innate clumsiness? "I am Cultural Attache to the lovely Duchess Eriussa," a pointed look EJ's way. "We have endured many travels together and while I've greatly enjoyed the hospitality of House Jynell during my time here, I will confess...."
She pauses for effect, casting a rather surreptitious look about before leaning in to murmurs those tawny lips at the glamorous gossip gang. "I could not help but to notice the 'patina' on a great many of house fixtures in the private residence. With such apparent lack of consistency amid housekeeping staff, I'd be hard pressed to believe them capable of coordinating a 'vicious' attack against the Terells, mm? One must tend to their own house before setting another's on fire." Insert tiny smirk and naally tittering through her nose here, complete with wink. Look, she can be silly catty witchy, too! "Do not believe all you hear, lest gullibility put a tarnish o'er your intellect, yes?"
Netep blows them each a kiss then and pivots away, doing well to give AMBLE room to the dancers who know what they're doing. The Queen Mother and Mr and Mrs House Kah are given long thoughtful looks each before she gravitates back toward her lost little Noni. She almost gets as far, too, when another notable face catches her eye. Hard. She'd know that bald pate anywhere...
Muri tucks into her wine like it's the elixir of life, mumbling between gulps. I mean sips. <<"Big Ear One, Fuzzbutt, Big Mouth One here...">> Yeah, why not, it fits. <<"Big Ears, you'll recall big egg, from friend's office?">> because he's bald, see? <<"Known problem, this big, rotten egg. It's going to stink up the hor d'oeuvres. I'm going to see how close I can get before knocks me out, but we may need to purge the buffet...">>
It's so bad. She's so bad at this. Muri carries her now mostly empty glass along toward baldy like she's looking to swap for a full.
The room is like a shifting tide as servers move through the groups and B'haav faces off the the Duchess Terell. Her eyes flit to him as if he were nothing of significance. But her smile is a real thing and feral. "What can I say, House Terell is strong. And we like to support our Duchess." Her eyes follow to Eriu who just remains smiling and sipping her drink. No reason to be unpleasant but the undertones of many conversation speak of other things brewing. Such as....
Talk of Ilaina and Sajin. House Kah? That color has not been seen in some time. Ilaina for her part sticks close to the King of Drik, hugging his side as she nod sand greets everyone as if nothing is wrong but he may feel the growing tension in her arm. All is well right? But loud statements are being made in the room if one looks hard enough.
The sea is in motion, nobles moving about and Khalim feels the wrath of a misplaced word in the form of a drink that is thrown in his face but in the same breath he loses the Marchioness of Valris, gone in the mix of the crowd and without those who were meant to keep her safe.
Rale is piecing together information but its clear from his vantage that blue outnumbers the other houses, whether true blood of the house or not the estate is not in the best position presently. Its like a dance below him. While Kaavenn is trying to sort out all the trouble that seems to be popping up. People in bad positions for shots and protection as well as too many people to keep an eye on all at once. THIS. This is why Muri's notice is important as Sapphira slips away on her own errand of urgency, the Lorridan gives the sniper and Rale a target to keep an eye on.
Its a heady mix of chaos that swirls around the center point.
Sajin looks towards Ilaina and notice her tenseness. Hazel eyes look up to see a group of Terell make their way towards Sajin. He purses his lips, leaning down to place a kiss at Ilaina's cheek. "Do not fear, M'lady. There is nothing they can do here. And I won't let jepordize us. You have my promise." He gives her a charming smile before looking back and readying the intercept. He could do this, he was sure of it. No matter if it turned violent or not... and if he got them to chatter about their plans, all the better for the comms linked to the others.
B'haav Adasta does not prickle visibly at such a brash statement by the Terell duchess, but he - despite not being of House Jynell himself - can feel something stirring in his bones as he sees more seething blue, more whispers, more rumors turning to murmurs to mumbles to trouble. But B'haav does as he always has, after offering one quick smile to the Duchess Jynell: He starts talking. "I have been through the archives and have seen much the same pattern in Jynell's history as well. I am certain the Duchess approves of your strength, but I would hope that soon you may ascend to the level of Jynell's thinking, whereby the Duchess serves her people. There is no House without those that support it, and Jynell has been caring for those that have always stood in quiet service. I hope Terell also takes care of those below the seat, without which they would have long ago fallen." There. She can blow that one out her Hapanhole.
Rale's fur is standing on end, a sign under his armor of incredibly agitation and anxiety, but his finger is steady on the grate and trigger as his carbine swivels to and from. <<"Roger Big Mouth, Keep Baldy near, will look for Flyboy's Charge..">> There. With some Terell and other House members, looking for Khalim. <<"Flyboy, snap out of it. Your charge is needing you, over your left shoulder, ten pace away.">> His carbine is moving from blue figure to blue figure, and he shakes his head slowly.
"Moonsword (Eriu), the jaws are closing. If we don't act now, we will be reacting to them, not the other way. Please advise">> A tension to his own tone as he waits for whatever is about to happen to get sprung, one way or the other. One twitch, and some Terell goon is losing most of their noggin'.
The tension was increasing in the ballroom even as the servers and cleaners invisibly attended to their duties. A kerfuffle was one thing, but abandoning one's post was the /gravest/ dishonour one could bear. Especially after they had all worked so hard to return House Jynell to its former glory! It would not do to leave even one belly unfed.
It was perhaps for this reason that the waiters picked up their pace. Food was cycled, drinks were refilled, and rooms were given the final touches. Someone finally noticed the bag had been stowed behind a fern and picked it up, to move it for safekeeping into one of the quieter rooms. Sounds of distress emerged from another, likely someone who'd had about seven flutes and was rendered incoherent by their sudden need to get rid of these poison beverages from their system.
And, amongst it all, with elements paying attention to the Jynell retainers, the path to our Bald Assailant was cleared.
Sapphira oohs softly at the sight of her server, reaching out to place her 2/3 empty wine glass down and pick up a fresh one. It wouldn't do to double-fist in such a snazzy joint. "And here I thought you meant to help with //treason//, not liquor. Not that I don't appreciate the latter, but the former might at least kick this party up a few notches." She lifts her glass to 'cheers' with the lady beside her, nodding at her next question once she takes a sip. "Mmmmhmm. From Naboo, so it's not that I don't appreciate all of this," she says, gesturing to the sights around her. "It just feels like a work function more than a social engagement. Though perhaps it is for you--I'm sorry, I don't recognize your colors. You're a member of the nobility on this finest of planets, I take it?"
Khalim takes a step back and wipes his face with the back of his hand. The glare he is receiving was unexpected, and to be frank he's no diplomat and has no idea what to say. He beats a hasty retreat, purging the Lady of Camden from his mind as she huffs behind him. The Mirialan's mission reverts to its original parameters as he attempts to recover the location of the missing Marchionesse.
Big Ear One's previous warning about imminent Terell moves seems to click. Rale had conveyed that information precisely at the moment he'd been clued in to the possible social disturbance he himself had ended up creating. He feels the blocky form of the blaster pistol pressing against him under his arm, and is slightly reassured. But the Marchionesse... with a comm or two back and forth with Rale -- who urges him back to his post - and his naturally sharp eyes, he finds and rejoins her.
Back in position, and after a quick nod to King, he's back on patrol, holding station, surrounded by potential hostiles but feeling at least reasonably well prepared. He's not without friendly on every side as well.
Out of the corner of an eye, Khalim spots a member of House Camden by colors. As she approaches and speaks, the Marchionesse reacts with confusion. "I do not know you, away..." The Mirialan hears his charge say these words, and it cues him to shift his attention more fully upon the unknown Camden-claiming woman, just in time to see her hand dip into a fold of her gown and begin withdrawing a pistol. He reacts instantly, a pear-hued hand shooting within his own jacket, a charged and unlocked XT-2, bulky and menacing, pulled out and trained for just long enough to see a first tibana-charged particle bolt barely miss, but a second slam into her chest with energetic red fury.
He keeps his red eyes roving, the EZ-Snap is cradled in his hands. He feels no fatigure from it's weight. It's in it's proper home. Though idly his mind gives thought to needing some sort of Sniper Rifle caddy as he has been rebuilding his arsenal slowly but surely. Shadowport themselves works in a way as confusing to his mind as this constantly shifting sea of blue and nobility. B'haav is B'haaving, Muri was Muri-ing. Rale- wait what now?
The Wolf of Chume'Dan makes a face. <<"I have no kriffing idea what the drek you people just said...">> What Kaavenn -does- notice is a weapon in some bald servants hand.... or it's a actual silverware and he's going to get yelled at later. Anything but the shaving. The EZ-Snap comes up to bear, both eyes open, one sees everything normal, the other through the scope. His brain barely recognizes chevrons over Baldy's face. He just instinctually squeezes the trigger at the right moment. Well mostly the right moment, he could have made better pink mist. At least a Balosar didn't intercept this shot... not that a Balosar has ever intercepted a shot that can be proven.
Well that was...strangely unexpected. So soon. Three blaster shots ring out. The third transforms the rotten egg's skull into a scrambled mess right before her eyes. Is that..has she got some of the mist on her? Muri's frozen mid stride with WIDE eyes and a secret thought of gratitude that she chosen this particular color gown. Blood, brain, gore, it'll almost blend. Her second thought is that now's not the time to throw up. It's not. It's not. Think of the wine! What a /waste/ it would be...
She swallows and by the fourth repetition of this throat bobbing, she's recovered enough wherewithall to cast a frantic look around in search of anymore guilty hands in pockets or murderous glowers or --- or blue going on the run. Again.
"Not this time, ladies..." Muri hisses to herself and does an about face, one-two-three march to land a very purposeful, very flat and sturdy sandaled footfall atop a blue hem as it glides so sneakily o'er the floor. Her toes wriggle forward against the strappy confines of footwear and go so far as to dig into the luxurious fabric. It's as sudden and stealthy an intervention as she can make in the moment without tackling the Terell. If Judges' favor be, maybe the woman will still fall on her face? Maybe?
And then there's something touching Muri's other foot. It's Noni, probably having a backflash of the other week's incident, crawling on the floor and clinging to her ankle like her exotic space gypsy lover might somehow keep her from harm. Poor, sweet, naive Noni. Muri forces a smile of reassurance but doesn't ease up off the other lady's hem.
B'haav's words cause the Marchioness to pause and then scoff at him. The Terell leader just stares. "You have no idea what you are talking about..." just as the same time as Sajin offers comfort to Ilaina who is wearing a brilliant smile to combat the figures before her. A knife is withdrawn from one of the Terell who approached and as if sychronized - probably by watches, they shift. During this the woman Sapphira speaks to smiles, though it falters beneath the lace covering of her face. "Treason is just another drink. I am enjoying my wine today." A laugh. "Its all a work function, such is life and as for nobility. Its fluid." Is all she says as the figures move into place. The one for Ilaina is in motion while the blind attack on Marchioness Varis occurs. A blaster bolt downs the figure who is very much still alive but not as heavily armed as Khalim.
Kaavenn's expert shot with Rale guiding everyone amist the chaos and Muri's expert eyes downs the offworlder mercenary dressed as a servant. His shiny bald head a fine target for the sniper as the attacker of Marchioness Camden goes down.
Chaos begins to reign supreme as people are moving, rushing to get away from the signs of death or backthing up out of the way and finding cover. The Queen Mother is surrounded by her guards instantly and one can almost see the disapproval on her face from her protected spot. "ENOUGH!!!" She cries. More than a few people stop as her voice bellows and finally the chaos starts to abate as quite a few remain in hiding.
Sajin saw the the knife and his face fell from a proud grin to a serious bit of anger. Not because the Terell were attacking. Not because of the blaster shots that followed. No, because he wasn't going ot get to stick the fact he landed Ilaina from them in their face. He'd have to settle for blood... next best thing.
He hears the shot and acted, pulling his blade from it's sheath and intercepting the assailent. His free hand grabed the hand the Terell attacked wielded his own blade before slashing twice across their chest. It only rips the ornate clothing. Thee third attack was a plunge into the bepths of the man's chest, a twist of the pointed blade, then a with drawl before he pushes the attacker away.
Bloody steel in hand he stood infront of Ilaina and immovable object, baring his teeth, a deadly glint in his usually dreamy hazel eyes. "How DARE you attack the future Commander of HER MAJESTY'S SELECT COMMANDOS! You uncouth swine!"
Say what?!
"YOUR M-" B'haav Adasta begins to respond loudly to the Queen Mother's demands, when he remembers that he is on Hapes and quickly - and briefly - swallows his own tongue. Shaking his head and thinking for a moment, he continues, though speaking to someone very different. "Lady Tyrell, Madam Ilaina, I highly recommend you take this very small window of opportunity to prostrate yourselves before the Queen Mother and confess to your crimes. Pray that she is merciful. The Duchess Jynell has uncovered all that you have poorly and shoddily tried to obscure, your ham-fisted attempts to play on a field in which you would never have advantage. We have witnesses, we have you surrounded, and you are done. Beg for mercy, or pray you are dropped quickly before your judgment passes." B'haav pauses a moment and leans towards the Tyrell to add one final thing.
"You will be long forgotten before the next year has passed. If you're lucky."
"What is the meaning of this! Bring me those who are to blame!" She calls this out and there are a few looks around but its obvious where the bald figure has gone down.
Aaaand stuff is popping off, and that old blowhard is making noises, but Rale doesn't care about any of that, not even a little bit. His world, so very small, reduces to a couple small, simple facts. His friends are under attack. EJ isn't telling him to stop. And he has a Not-Friend in his sights. His carbine drills out one high-powered shot that misses as the Camden falls from Khalim's shot. She is aiming at his friend Khalim! That will not do. She must pay for this. So Rale puts a bolt directly between her eyes as he corrects his aim. Threat to friend eliminated. His eyes pan around. <<"Sawtooth, Prince (Saijin) and Big Mouth under attack!">> Trying to keep everyone in order as the situation descends into utter chaos, his carbine reloading with a whine as he pivots in place
"I'll drink to tha-" Sapphira begins to once more lift her wine glass to Mid-Level Nobility Exec Lady beside her when the shooting breaks out. As the woman begins to move toward the fray, there is our dark-skinned Sapphira, using one arm to guide the Mid-Level away. The wine glass in her hand manages to find it's way to a nearby cocktail table (because we're not heathens here, throwing wine about!) but otherwise in the shuffle, Sapphira and the Mid-Level seem to almost get loss among the masses.
The pandemonium is only partial, as the Queen Mother's cry to halt has grabbed hold of many of those present. As a carbine bolt, sent by Rale above, hallowed be thy name, erases whatever was between the sketchy Camden's eyes, the Mirialan shifts back to the Marchionesse of Varis. Her eyes speak a demand, /protect us/, and he nods and turns back to shield the woman and her collection of charges.
"Any Terell that take a step towards the Marchionesse, die." He holds the XT-2 at the ready, sighting down the blocky weapon as he shifts between those in visible house colors. King holds position opposite the stately woman, the duo looking like a serious pair of hired guns. Somehow, in the moment, Khalim pulls the look off.
Idly and in between instinctual target hunting Kaavenn wonders how bad it will be for ruining Muri's dress. Bah, nothing can possibly go wrong there. The Queen-Mother seems angry, and that bodes ill for him. He needs to get the hell out of dodge before people start being all suspicious because Shistavanen. Sajin stabbed a guy! The barrel snaps over this new target, what was Sajin trying to yell at hi- BLAM! It doesn't matter, that man is a corpse now. He's pushed his luck enough. <<"I think the bouncers are coming for me.">> He's not staying for life in prison on this cursed planet with it's forever-day. The scope is shut down first, and he at least quietly gets the hell out of dodge. The visor to the Void Armor is polarized once more, and he has his cloak. Maybe they'll mistake him for a midget wookie this time? Regardless. Wolf Ninja Sorta Vanish.
Muri isn't blessed with long legs, so she can't lean far from the retaliating SWIPE the hem-pinned Terell takes at her (with fiercely manicured nails!) Fortunately, there isn't much wiggle room in the bodice or hips of the lady's dress, so...Terell's reach is shorter than Muri's stride, for the time being. Hah.
Doesn't mean Muri stares it down without a flinch, because there's definitely a flinch. Followed by a shav eating grin.
"Doaba, chumani..." she uplifts both palms, mockingly begging the gal for peace. "I am but a clumsy fool." Who's yet to move her foot. Isn't, anytime soon. "Should we not listen to what your Mother commands? Woe befalls a misbehaved child in her court, methinks."
The wine glass gets pssed down to Noni who's hunkered there like she isn't sure if she should run or punch the punching Terell or just play dead. Netep strokes some fingers through the young lady's exquisitely styled curls, offers a tense little wink, then motions to the nearest piece of furniture. It's a suggestion from one who's well versed in saving her own skin.
There was commotion in the second floor hallway.
For the first time all night, the servants were nonplussed as one of their own pushed a struggling woman, in a dress of deep alluring grey, away from the guest suites and towards the ballroom. A few strands of her meticulously-done up blonde hair had fallen and framed her deep green eyes, a face breathtakingly beautiful and remarkably striking that was somehow unmarred, or even enhanced, by the angry bruising forming across her cheekbone.
The servant and the lady were in animated discussion, drowned out by the murmurs and whispers of scandal and dramah of all the onlookers. That was a very tight grip on her arm- was that a /cannon/ pressed into her back or was the waiter just happy to see her? The woman in captivity opened the door on to the second-floor balcony, atop the stairs. She did so with her face, having had it forced through the door with the rest of her. From there, she beheld and was beheld by all gathered, brought into the harsh spotlight present by having all eyes upon her. There were a couple more murmured words from the pair of them, and then the booming voice of the waiter spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" he announced in perfect Fauxrellian to the chaotic crowd, and now that he was in clear view it was impossible to miss the faded, furry, beaten up old form of a much-loved Bomber Jacket on the... actually rather roguish looking man with the /very/ nice haircut and clean-shaven face. But there was that grin, that sheer audacious smirk that gave it all away. "For your viewing pleasure tonight I present to you Lady Anya of House Varis!"
PUNT.
A boot to the back at the top of the stairwell sent the woman tumbling head over extremely expensive heels down the stairs, adding bruises to the one the waiter had already made, and she collapsed to the floor of the ballroom with a wide gap forming around her impact zone. Her head lifted, a cut on her forehead accentuating her natural beauty and her now-very dishevelled hair pulling off perfect I-just-fell-down-the-stairs chic. "Ringleader of the circus, and better known as Madam Vas!" continued Yan of Family Zhu, his love for public speaking not needing any embellishment what with the sheer joy he was radiating right now.
"The eyes of the court are upon you, My Lady," Yan added, eyes turning back to the fallen noblewoman with a grin that could have been friendly if he wasn't holding a gigantic blaster pistol and hadn't just fracking kicked a woman down the stairs. "Remember to smile."
As the immediate threats go down and the Queen bellows once more that all be quiet that moment of pure clarity is marred by one Zhu Yan. An effective entrance with a present to boot. Literally. The noble gathers up her skirt away from Muri and looks ready to slap at her again before finally quieting with the presentation. In the midst of giving B'haav what for, the Marchioness of Terell looks sufficiently worried asher head turns first to the Queen Mother and then to Madam Vas. All color drains from her face as she starts to look for exits.
Ilaina speaks up once the figure before her is dead. "It's true! Vas is behind it as is Terell!" Because look! She's with Kah now. She backs up a step as Eriu shoots her a look.
The efficient work of the Port members stirs Eriu forward. "Madam Vas...in this moment but she was born of Anya Varis. The deposed member of House Valris..." Eriu is drawing her sword, the rapier glinting as she stalks forward looking up at Yan before continuing forward.
"Varis once a house wanted to seize control of Jynell and failed. You deposed of herself, Queen Mother and put her Aunt in her place, giving them a role beneath us to prove themselves again." She reaches Anya's side and presses the tip of her sword into the woman's chest and then lifts it towards her neck.
"Time to confess."
Vas looks about for allies and finds she has none as she slowly rises, hands held up to show she is unarmed. She spits on the ground at Eriussa's feet and then turns to the Queen Mother to side eye her. "Its true!" No hiding now. "Jynell was weak. Your mother dise.." that is as far as she gets before Eriu thrusts the piercing tip of the sword into Anya's chest. She's alive still but the surprise on her face seems to be priceless. "Jynell's justice is done. I ask that you take Marchioness Terell, my cousin ILaina and this woman into your custody. Or if you allow. I can execute this one here." The sword is withdrawn.
Sajin looks up to the stair well to see Zhu Yan kick Mandam Vas down the stairwell, revealing her true identity. His lips perse and eyes narrow.
He should have killed the bitch when he had the chance and all of this might have gone differently.
He lowers his blade as the Blue Terell evaporates into laser blast inferno, raising a hand to protect himself from the flash. A turn to Ilaina as she confesses...
A hand reaches back to take hers, it's reassuring as she cowers behind him. He gives her a look, a look that says, 'trust me'. Probably a mistake but either way.
"You majesty..." Sajin says in a very calm yet slightly breath taken tone. "I ask that you show leaniance on Lady Ilaina Jynell and her part in this. She was acting under duress and out of an abundance of bad judgement and feeling." At least some of that was true. The duress part wasn't so much.
If there was anything Ilaina could take from this it was he was attempting to give her a second chance. What she did with that was up to her.
Sajin adds to Zhu Yan, "A little Dramatic, yeah?"
B'haav Adasta steps forward, offering an arm to Jyri, in hopes that she will follow him. "Queen Mother, please forgive me for overstepping my place, but I must present Madam Jyri, or rather - as your Majesty no doubt would know her better - Madam Rona, Chief Advisor to the late Duchess of Jynell. She has been witness to as much, and more, and her testimony will bear out our case." He bows his head very low, and says no more. His work is now complete.
A low, chittering laughter is heard through the comms as Yan kicks Vas down the stairs, and a murmured Rale comes over. <<"Good show, Boss. Love it. And don't worry, I'm the eye in the sky just in case.">> And Rale's scope moves from face to face, keeping an eye on as many guests as he can, especially anyone in Blue, just in case some Terell or affiliate tries to derail all of this at the last moment.
A little voice comes over the comms. <<"Hey Moonsword (Eriu), I'll pay you for two ships if you get rid of Vas now...Would save me so many credits, best not to ask why.">> Really best not to ask why. <<"Also, love the speech, class act, it all came together beautiful.">>
Khalim winces, just a hint, as 'Madam Vas' is kicked and sent tumbling down the stairs. It's an incongruous response, hadn't he just sent a cahrgle particle bolt into a separate woman's chest but moments earlier? Yes, and he puts that little tug into a box, and shoots it into the sun. His job, at this point, is to continue covering the crowd, and continue ensuring the Marchionesse standing just behind him continues to remain untouched and breathing. His pistol has dropped to a low ready, but he remains tightly would, coiled and tense.
As all heads go up and 'round to the commotion coming out onto the balcony, so does Netep's. Her eyes narrow, catching a terminal fragment of that conversation from afar before Zhu makes the grand announcement. And kicks her down the stairs.
What she wouldn't give to have been privy to earlier bits of that convo. Vas accusing him of playing dirty? That's...well it comes at no surprise. Muri wouldn't label Yan a saint and Vas is guilty, angry, and sore at having lost...considering the parties involved and past week's explosive incidents, the accusation feels apropos.
A trace of a frown lingers upon Muri's lips and she ignores the testy Terell in favor of joining Noni in her would-be shield/hiding place. "Think of this as your first real adventure," she murmurs over the Camden's shoulder whilst resting her chin thusly. Meeyuri, cultural attache extraordinaire, destroyer of gowns, breaker of shoes, is content to be quiet then and watch attentively as events unfold.
A RECAP: Zhu Yan had been busy. It'd all started the night after the chase, when the smuggler had stumbled across an assassin. Well, more accurately, he'd known about the assassin and was there and waiting for her to make her move. From there, a message had been sent back worded specifically to goad a certain Anya Varis, exposed, crippled, and desperate for a win, into making the metaphorical Hail Meara play to wipe out every single one of her enemies at once.
Being still tapped into their communications, it hadn't been hard to confirm that she was going to hit Jynell with everything she had, and be on-site for the job.
Then it was a simple matter of apprehending her. On the day of the ball Yan had disappeared, firstly to get a haircut, and secondly to get into character as part of the furniture. He'd breezed through the audience chamber at least once carrying a rattling platter, and had been on the staff tending to guest rooms. A stolen passcard, some thrown fists, a bit of trash talk, and that was one crime-lord abducted.
The only person who'd known he was up to something was the small redhead called Sapphira, who'd cunningly hid away a backpack containing a jacket and a very large gun.
NOW: "Yup."
There was the sound of the hammer of an archaic firearm being pulled back, and Yan's Bryar was levelled at Sajin. More specifically, it was levelled at Ilaina Jynell. "She's dumb as bricks and still playing you. Step away from the honey-pot." And then Yan gave Sajin a Look of disappointment and sadness. "We'll discuss it later."
QUEEN MOTHER EYEA LAL'CERTE: Imperious eyes surveyed the carnage wrought against Hapes, a stain on their nobility. With chin held high, Eyea gazed upon the assembled forms of Houses Jynell, Terell, and the stricken and bleeding figure of Anya Varis. She was silent for a long moment, wielding her gaze as a cone of silence to those who dare speak. Power does indeed have its uses, and aside from caring for her citizens and her planet, it was good at shutting up the gossip.
Only when all had been said did Queen Mother Eyea Lal'Certe inhale deeply through her nose, and exhale just as despondently.
"This is what my court comes to," she stated flatly, the tone in her voice just fed up with all the sithspit. "We here have always conducted politics as art. But to be so brazen? So brutal?" The gaze whipped into a glare as her eyes fell upon that of Marchioness Terell, Ilaina Jynell, and the bleeding out figure of Anya Varis. "I expected better, Cyria. Take them into custody."
As guards scurried to arrest the three co-conspirators to the plot, the Queen Mother's attention returned to the Prodigal Duchess, the returning daughter, and her expression utterly failed to soften. "And you. You come home and tear a swathe through my planet. Extenuating circumstances aside, this will not do." Disappointment. Every word was disappointment. "We will hold Tribunal to determine the truth of this. Madam Rona, we will be..." pause, "debriefing you. As for the rest," she lifted her gaze, now, to behold all of the assembled crowd of Jynell, Terell, and Shadowport, a particular glare reserved for the blaster-wielding maniac at the top of the stairs who /flinched/, "return home." There were some serious connotations to that statement, and with the simple instruction, the room slowly started to shuffle about as though someone had just turned the lights back on. Then, finally, one last look at Duchess Eriussa Jynell. "Wherever home may be."
Anya is remanded to custody as per the Queen Mother's words and the com buzzing in her ear to finish Varis gets a faint shake of her head. She stands down, lowering her sword as she looks up at the reigning power over Hapes. Eyea is given a nod and she bits her lip, quickly pressing them together in a thin line to bite back her words. Slipping into a low bow before the Queen Mother, Eriussa does not look up as she draws a deep breath as the blood of ANya drips off the tip of the sword.
After a few moments she straigtens back up and narrows her gaze on the back of Varis' head. So easy to just cut it off, but she withholds, stepping back as Rona inclines her head to the Queen Mother, "As you wish."
Ilaina for her part looks aghast as the gun is leveled at her and Sajin. "He's lying. Entirely lying. I am with you." She tries desperately to keep Sajin as a shield in front of her.
Sajin stared at Zhu Yan, "How can she play me if she's dumb as bricks..." THe Hapan shakes his head. an had no idea the angle that Sajin was playing, nor what was going through his head. "Thi is how you thank me? You keep pointing that gun this way something really bad is going to happen." He offers in a rather serious tone before looking towards the Queen Mother. He's still between Yan and Ilaina, not moving while the thyferran has a gun pointed in his direction.
Sajin listens to the queen mother in a rather careful fashion... He turns his head over his shoulder towards Ilaina, "I'll get a lawyer... but you're doing the right thing." There's turn back towards Yan, a grip tighening on hs blade as if ready to strike if the 'corellian' dared to make a move. "We will talk about it later... because these people will have their justice... the Hapan way. Understood?" A look back to Ilaina, "Then go with the Queen Mother and do what needs to be done. Yes?"
B'haav Adasta
B'haav Adasta lowers his head, eyes still on the Duchess Jynell with no attention for the sword freshly bloodied in her hand. He waits quietly to know what more can he do. Can he really do anything, though? Or is this the end of his utility and - perhaps - his time with the Shadowport? Much would depend on her choice. Should she stay, she would have no need of a Balosar advisor - not when the one she had grown up with was still around, with even more knowledge of the politics, and the planet. And if she leaves... Well, there's an awful lot of space, and a new clinic on Nar Shaddaa.
This isn't the time to think about the future. But as much as he tries to focus on the exchange between the man called Zhu Yan and the King of Drik, he can only wonder - as the advisor pro temporum, of course - what the Duchess will do. He steals another glance her way, but keeps his head bowed until their people finally begin to move.
Rale
Rale, for his part, has pretty much completed his mission, really. I mean, he was just there in case things went hairy, and they very much did, to an extent. But the smoking hole in the Camden's head means he did his part, so...Rale shrugs, putting the safety onto his carbine and leaning back as much as he can, humming to himself as he rests from a day well spent. He lifts his visor, letting air in to the slightly-damp fur inside. Rough day.
And then bright red claws go down. And snatch up a salmon cracker. Not so bad, this Hapes. Not all the time.
The situation appears more or less settled, as far as things the Shadowportians had any direction influence over any longer, save the brief flare of drama between Zhu Yan and Sajin. Khalim's sidearm lowers to point at the floor, and he stands a little bit more easily. Not relaxed, no. But definitely lacking some of the tension that had existed within his posture, and behind his dark brown eyes, but a few moments before. Still, he doesn't leave the Marchionesse's side. Or front, as it were. Not yet. Not until the three conspirators were physically removed. The head from the snake, so to speak.
Zhu Yan
ZHU YAN:
There were three people in the galaxy Yan wasn't convinced he could beat in a fight. The one who could absolutely tank two Bryar shots and still cross the floor, climb the stairs, and turn him into a 5'7 shishkebab faster than he could fire the third was... second on that list. Sajin was right. There was so much Yan could have said right now, even the low-blows that would destroy House Kah where it stood right this second, but all of them ended with the mental image of being skewered by Sajin Kovo 'Motherfruiting' Kah and though he tried, the words wouldn't come out and he fell silent.
The hammer loosened on the empty charge chamber and the Bryar went inert. Back into its holster it went. "Yeah," he said, having lost all his tough-guy cred the very moment he flinched under the gaze of a ruler he didn't care for, "we will." But still, Justice. There was a twitch in the corner of his mouth. Yan knew enough about The Hapan Way now to know where this was going.
QUEEN MOTHER EYEA LAL'CERTE: "Lord Sajin Kovo Kah," spoke the Queen Mother. With the wilting of the flower that was Maniac With A Blaster, she now turned her attention to the ugliest Hapan she'd ever seen. "All considered, you have comported yourself with honour and nobility on this day. Our findings will be just and fair, trouble yourself not." Was that... warmth? It was a little bit, after all, Eyea Lal'Certe, descendent of the much beloved Meara Lal'Certe, wasn't called Queen Mother for nothing. "Though we hold Jynell, Terell, and Varis under observation, there may yet be room for House Kah to rise. If even the men act with such honour, who is to say it's impossible?" That was a /hint/ of a smile on her expression. High praise in such trying times.
"Duchess Jynell," she said as the prisoners were carted out mostly with dignity, Anya Varis not so much because she'd been stabbed in the chest. Some of the warmth faded. Not all of it. "You are of two worlds now, and you may find it trying to juggle both." She flicked eyes (metaphorically, not literally, you cads) up at the chagrined Zhu Yan. "We must speak later, before you come to your conclusions. Privately. Without your friend." And with that seeming conclusion, the Queen Mother and all of her attendants turned back to the glorious glass doors that had parted for their entrance, and made their departure.
"What an interesting month," she later said in the back of her hover-limousine, with the heated seats and the sunroof, an overpowered and drastically overpriced vehicle. "See, Enric? Not every day is boring."
Ilaina looks distraught as even Sajin tells her she's doing the right thing if she turn herself in. "How...I...How could you!" The Jynell looks utterly furious and is quick to reach her hand up slap him hard. Right across the cheek. She glares at him as two of the royal guards move forward to take her at either side. "Your house will never flourish.." she proclaims. "Rot and wither ont he vine!" She is vengeful and spitefu that blonde haired noble.
That leads us to Anya bleeding as she is picked without any grace to it and dragged towards the back entrance, her blood leaving a trail as Eriu watches only to have her head quickly snap up to the Queen Mother who addresses her again. "Yes, your Highness, of course." Another small portion of her is ingrained with those reactions and she turns about to look as the guests are starting to leave, some still talking in groups as the Queen Mother takes her leave.
"The gathering is over. Leave. Shadowport, stay. Departures will begin at your leisure." She remarks and lets out a very long breath.
As the function starts to break up and the Jynell servants remains, Eriussa glances to those who remain. The whole lot of them. "The adventure is done. I owe all of you." But there are hard truths to face and Eriussa moves, taking her leave of the room. "Feast," she calls back. "Celebrate. We have unearthed the mole. Enjoy your evening as you will." She glances to Sajin, then Khalim. Finally her eyes rest on B'haav before she heads up the stairs and right towards Zhu Yan before passing him.
Sajin takes the smack across the face, a hand moving to his cheek as Ilaina spits vitriol at him. "Yeah well..." He says rubbing that cheek still, "You are really bad at sex..."
As the guards drag her out he turns and moves back to EJ, Yan, and the others. THere is a moment as he looks at Zhu Yan before shaking his head, "You need to learn to have a little faith."
Except the heartbreak inside was probably a little too much. How could a man with everything, a Queen for a wife, be so lonely. He pushes past and away... likely to gather his things and head off world, done with this escapade. Exhausted, he looked it.
Khalim holsters his pistol, and relaxes. Eriu's given a small nod as her gaze stops at him for a moment, then he's moving. Moving away from the Marchionesse. Towards a table with drinks, or at least a sevant tasked with pouring them. Shadowport may be gearing up to leave, soon, but there's time for this. And soon he's got the first of several glasses of something expensive, that tastes like it, and for the first time in two weeks there's no tightness to his chest when he takes a breath.
B'haav Adasta nods, his orders given. His leisure means packing. There is much to do and, for him, it seems none of it is left on Hapes. At least, most of the suits he brought on world ended up with bloodstains or blaster holes, so the return will be much lighter than the arrival. He has nothing to say - a shock that will echo through the Galaxy - as he crosses the audience chamber in a direct line, varying only to keep from stepping in the blood, as if to acknowledge: Shadowport had been here.
Rale
"Hey Khalim, Muri." Rale calls from on high, leaning out the vent as he munches down on finger foods. "I say we go out and have a nice, quiet dinner, catch up! And then take Khalim's ship out of here as quick as we can. This place gives me HIVES with all the politics, no offense." As he hangs out a vent, munching on free food as people he's murdered lay below.
Sparkling wine in hand, Khalim looks up in Rale's direction and gives the little Bat-Man(r) a big thumbs up. He then polishes off the rest of the glass and asks for another.
