Log:Sith: Here There Be Politics

Here There Be Politics

OOC Date: March 1, 2025
Location: Modus, Hapes Star Cluster
Participants: Aitax Rendon, Aryn Cortess, Bal Calrissian, Lynoriel Thrace, Merulia

The Hapan invitation for Imperial delegates to be sent for discussion of surrender had been reversed. It was the Hapans who would be made to attend the Imperial fleet; a power play which the Ducha had accepted in stride. The Battle Dragons and Nova cruisers remained in formation once rescue efforts were completed, their squadrons were recovered with the exception of two graceful Miy'til fighters which had flown toward the planet. The starfighters dipped briefly into high atmosphere before emerging again on either wing of an elegant gilt vessel. The 100 meter-long craft vaguely resembled a Nova cruiser, but half the size and with intricate segmented metallic sails on either side that were reminiscent of avian wings. The token honor guard of two fighters peeled away as the Modan yacht approached the designated hangar of the colossal Resurgent-class destroyer. The segmented sails began to fold up fan-like as the yacht settled to the destroyer's deck. The transport lowered its ramp and Modan delegation disembarked.

While beauty was of course relative, by classical human standards the Modans were beautiful; taller than average humans and statuesque in build, tending toward narrow chins, large expressive eyes, and high cheekbones. The eternal light that bathed the world had left the race with a dusky golden-brown complexion, and hair so deeply black that it gained a bluish sheen in bright light.

There was no mistaking their status as each of the Hapan party emerged. The Ducha walked out first in a diaphanous gown of white and gold with vivid scarlet trim that pooled at her feet, black hair shot through with silver was woven into intricate braids that supported a tall headdress of gold, dripping with bright crystals. Arms were bare save for elaborate jewelry at the biceps, wrists and fingers. She was flanked by two guards: women in tall ceremonial crested golden helms and red attire that struck a balance between courtly ornament and functional movement. Both guards wore sleek pistols at their right side and a cup-hilted sword sheathed on the left.

A handful of courtiers trailed their ruler, followed in turn by an equal number of retainers; one of the courtiers was male, as were all of the servants. The rest of the diplomatic party were women. Heavily jeweled and filigreed knives appeared to be cultural status symbols, as all except the Ducha and the servants wore them prominently displayed at the front of their waistlines; the richer the decoration, the higher the status. The entire party walked in step with one another down the ramp, coming to a uniform stop when the Ducha made a small motion of one hand. The guard to her right raised a strong voice to declare, "Before you now comes Ereneda Allurigant Novi, Ducha of Modus. Her herald, Her archon, Her majordomo." Each of the named dignitaries took a short step forward as they were named.

The procession would move to an observation deck where negotiations and socializing could ensue, but the moment of arrival was a particular piece of theater.

Regality and presence weren't alien concepts for Nightsister Merulia, or Darth Arcana as she known formally now with title achieved, but the pomp and ceremony was non-existant...or more accurately a lot different amidst the clan of her mothers and sisters. Drawing her way through, the pale Sephi wrapped in those traditional wrappings looked all the more eerie for the black lines of clan markings painted to her skin and her lips. Not leading the delegation by any means, but a show of force and just how diverse and unfathomable the resources of the Empire might be.

The sorceress in red who'd turned the enemy's beast upon them with seemingly a gesture, kept it as a pet as affectionate as a well-trained lloth-cat.

No mask beyond the makeup, she stood beside the leader of the Sith procession, amber eyes sweeping the Hapan delegation as they made their arrival.

Thrace is a delegate, but she is by no means the one in charge of this diplomatic meeting! The tall human hybrid with the crimson gaze is looking over everyone that is named. Making sure to remember faces and things of that nature. She's dressed in her sable robes, but unlike other times her ridiculously long hair is left unbound. Her gloved hands are clasped lightly in front of her as she stands like a rather tall melancholic statue.

Before the delegation of Modans stood the uniformed fighting force responsible for conquering their system. Troopers in formation on either side of the designated landing berth stood at silent attention, the emotionless mask of troopers facing ahead with void like stares. Officers aligned the only walkway, each armed with a single pistol that was concealed and stored within a shoulder-harnessed holster, its shined leather flap folded over the weapon.

For a moment, the heralded call was met with silence. Then, all at once, the brigade turned inward with uniformed precision. Officers faced inward as well, and brought their hands up in salute. It was not immediately clear if the unit was saluting the Ducha of Modus. It became clear when the Captain of the Merciless stepped into view at the end of the aisle and approached. As the Captain passed each officer, their salute cut. He was accompanied by a younger female Commander, the Executive Officer.

When they arrived in front of the delegation, the Commander stepped forth and addressed the group, though both Captain and Commander bowed. Upon rising again, she spoke, "Your Excellency, I am Commander Evelyn Hafta. It is my honor to welcome you aboard the Merciless. It is my duty to escort you and your company to the Dark Lord Kalus."

And to the Observation deck they were escorted. As the procession proceeded, the officers snapped back to attention and saluted once more.

The observation deck was decorated appropriately to conduct the surrender ceremony. The procession, announced once more, came within a large room with a massive view of their world. Dotting its atmosphere was the remnants of their station, fighters, and the artifacts of the war. The 'stage' as it were, was chosen to instill a sense of humility and reminder of the power that the Empire held. Awaiting the delegation is Darth Kalus, adorned in the traditional dark garb of the Empire which accentuates the presence of her bright blonde hair. A single electrum clasp fastens and Alderaanian styled cape diagonally across her back, leaving one hip presented; the same hip that her elegantly designed weapon was fastened.

If there is something that Landonis Balthazar Calrissian II was admiring in this moment, it is definitely the Modans. As much as he may want to be a part of the group that's handling the beginning of this but he is just an individual that's here and along for the ride. He hasn't necessarily been a part of how all of this has been happening. He doesn't deal with militaristic practices so much but diplomacy... that's where he actually shines.

RWhich is why he's here and wearing one of his more impressive capes. At least, to him it is.

Bal just keeps his mouth curled up into a smile to make sure he's looking as welcoming as possible. He doesn't want to overstep his bounds but if there's a chance to grease some wheels or if his style of diplomacy is needed, he'll be right here and ready to do his Ally duties.

In the meantime, there's quite a few attractive Modans to talk to.

Aitax Rendon is present for the formalities, but the tall captain is very much an afterthought for the proceedings as the matriarchal Modans treat with the representatives of the Sith Empire. His function is more that of a military advisor than negotiator. In full dress uniform, with his favored floor-length quarter cloak worn over the left shoulder, secured by a braided scarlet cord. He was silent and solemn.

The Modan delegation moved with the same polished precision to the appointed meeting place, the observation deck with its grand view of Modus, and the broken grandeur of the once-beautiful star castle that had held out for hours under concerted bombardment before falling. Still stable in its orbit, several of the graceful towers that had sprouted from its walls floated along in orbit with the ruin, as if frozen in the very moment of falling to pieces. Periodically, a piece of the wreckage would fall prey to the planet's gravity, and be drawn down wreathed in growing flames as it burnt out in the atmosphere.

Aiming for humility and awe, the reaction of the Ducha to the sight of the battlefield may have been surprising: a slow smile spread across her face. "Many the years I have longed to see that castle fall. To whom may Modus offer our thanks for this gift?"

At Kalus' side for the formality but perhaps more intimidating accessory to the elements and impressions, the young woman's eerie gaze follows the Ducha as she draws closer. Staring so intent she might give the impression of a Kodashi viper who's nest another creature was getting a little too close to.

Thrace closes her eyes for a very short moment. Turning her thoughts inward as she finds the center in herself. If she was just calm she probably wouldn't frighten anyone. Or trip over her robes and face plant. Scary stuff that. She gives a look to Bal as people start to mingle and there is a nod of greeting to him. Then her gaze flits about and finds Captain Rendon looking like the very essence of an Imperial officer. There is a ghost of a smile given to the man, but she doesn't approach him outright given she's on hand to mediate if needed.

This is the part where a Calrissian really shines. While he may not be at the level to speak to those that are at the top level in this here diplomatic procession he can do the thing where he starts to do that thing that a Calrissian does: Mingle.

A drink is scooped up along his way and he goes to take himself towards the servants first. If he's going to get some intel or make a bit of a splash, he might as well show that he's the type that's down with those that may not be at the top of the food chain around these parts. If there's one thing he does know, though, it's that servants often have the juiciest gossip. And now it's time to learn some of it.

Thrace gets a smile, nod and a raising of glass before he turns back to the group of servants he's decided to invade first.

"You may thank the Empire, Ducha," Kalus says, stepping closer toward the procession and the Ducha herself. There were no heralds for the Dark Lord, though Kalus wondered in what fashion she should present herself. It was becoming clear that for this situation, she was being a dutiful steward for the Empire and fulfilling her role. Kalus did not show much deference save a modest acknowledgement of the Ducha's role through the dip of her head. "I am Darth Kalus," she states, "your terms for surrender should proceed through me. -- Shall we begin?" Drinks were being served, there were other refreshments, too. Senior officers and Sith were present as well.

The Hapan servants are still rather richly attired, and while composed in manner, the entire quintet of them are athletic in build; they'd make fine and masculine statues in a society that made such things. Bal's approach is acknowledged and polite greetings given to the charming little man.

Toward the front, the Ducha Allurigant inclined her head to, "Darth Kalus," sharing looks and acknowledgement to either side of the fair haired Alderaanian to acknowledge Merulia and Lynoria. Her composure was impeccable, though those with a keen feel of the Force could sense there was an impressively concealed fear that grew behind her regal mask as her gaze was brought back to Aryn. "Then for removing the boot of Ni'taa from our necks, the Empire has the thanks of Modus. Let us begin, Darth Kalus."

Notably, the Hapans all showed several habits as they began to accept drinks, and speak: all would hold a cup for long enough to offer a brief few words, while swirling the liquids within. The warods varied, but the subtle motions of a ringer finger holding the cup did not. Then, they would drink.

Aryn nodded her head once more and turned slightly, gesturing with her arm and hand toward the larger arrangement where they could sit and discuss. Once settled, Kalus composed herself comfortably and studied the Ducha for a few moments. The fear that lingered behind that bearing was a delectable sensation. Fear of the unknown. Aryn could recall every moment of her life that was coated in a similar feeling.

"I sense disquietude, Ducha," Aryn states whilst lifting a hand and placing it over her own heart, "..here. -- Would it bring ease if I were to state that this could be an opportunity? For you -- for us?" Aryn's hand lowers to clasp over her lap, and her leg lifts to cross her other out of comfort. "I will be candid. The association with the Rebel alliance is quite damning. The Empire arrived to investigate rumors of Jedi. It is no secret that the Rebel alliance and Jedi Order are in cohort, and presently, it would seem your Queen is, too. We had no notion of war, but harboring our enemy invites the Empress' wrath."

"Are you aware of this alliance? To your knowledge, Ducha, are your people harboring Jedi Knights? -- " Aryn lifts her hand once more and gestures with a single gloved finger. "I --will-- know if you are lying. Please.." a pause, "..--please-- be true with your words."

The lightsaber at Merulia's hips, a hilt of songsteel worn as a mark of...well, that she was Sith as much as she was Nightsister. The check for poison wasn't lost on the healer, even as she walks through the crowd, Merulia's normally endearing beauty given that eerie edge that probably made people a little less comfortable approaching her.

That was it...certainly not just her being less socially adept.

There are few things more terrifying to a liar than the knowledge that others will know the truth, but when Ducha Allurigant had stepped with practiced grace to the offered seat facing Darth Kalus, her serene mask is underwritten with.. relief? "Then you will be pleased at the truth of my words, Darth: my people despise the Jedi. They are anathema amongst us, reviled as butchers. The foreign cruiser you saw in the company of my people- I have been told- was but newly arrived at Hapes before your fleet struck us. All vessels of the Rifle Worlds were determined to defend their homes from you; the Queen's Archon would not stir from the foot of Hapes Prime, and left us to die. The foreign ship was sent in her stead. A cheap token from a Queen who will discard any world but her own."

The Ducha regarded Kalus longer, the crystals dripping from her headpiece shifting subtly with a slight tilt of her chin. "I think you speak truly, Darth: this may be an opportunity for both our peoples. Do you sense the truth in my voice?"

From her left, Lynoriel was offered a glass by a gloved hand. Aitax commented dryly, "They're certainly a sociable lot, aren't they?"

Bal is all about making those rounds among the servants and when he catches wind that there's a few lingering glances and such, well, here he comes to get all involved. He's all about being involved and listening in right now. He makes sure to keep his drink in hand so that the servants can do the same as well. If he can get lips loose enough then maybe some ships will get sunk.

But for now, he's just really good with listening in to everything that everyone is talking about. A quiet Calrissian is a change but maybe he's just doing exactly what he needs to do at this moment.

This is why Thrace wasn't on the diplomat roster most times. She wasn't the best with people, but she had been working on it. When the glass of wine is offered it is gladly accepted. "Thank you." she intones to Aitax and she moves to stand beside him. "They are very social. Also quite worried about being poisoned." she states in hushed tone.

Aryn draws out the silence after the Ducha's question intentionally, focusing a moment and studying the other. When a subtle nod acknowledges, her words follow. "I do."

"--Thank you--, Ducha."

"My officers recall the term Ereneda was used upon your arrival. -- She who is without equal. -- I daresay it has a particularly satisfying ring to it. I had assumed you had come to speak with your Queen's authority, but hearing the contention in your voice at learning where she places value;.. well, I sense a change. Is it ambition you seek?"

Bal is about to take a sip of that drink he's been holding when the courtier steps closer. He raises an eyebrow and gives her a very quick once over because that's the kind of thing he does. "Well, you certainly are." That's the response he has in the moment because he's down with giving a couple of compliments in the middle of all this. "Landonis Balthazar Calrissian the Second." comes he introduction with a bow of his head and to let his surname sink in. "I can make whatever promise you want. Name it."

"One cannot *seek* to be ambitious, Darth," the Ducha corrects lightly. "And it is heresy for a Hapan to attempt to remove the Chume, or Chume'da.. For if the Queen and her Heir were removed, it would end the current dynasty, and cause division amongst the Consortium as a new dynasty would gather the power needed to take the throne." Allurigant drew a measured breath, choosing the next words deliberately. "I spoke as Ereneda. And you saw the warriors of the Rifle Worlds listen. That-" she extends a long arm to languidly indicate the shattered star castle, "Was placed in our sky and filled with the Royal Guard years past, when we sought independance and they named us the Rifle Worlds for scorn. You have removed the boot that held us down, Darth. I wonder if you may next remove the ceiling above athat prevents our rise."

Aitax Rendon sniffs once and allows a tight smile as he muses aside to Lynoriel, "A sensible precaution; it seems all their highest planetary officials are here. Were we to remove them, the planet and its shipyards would be leaderless." Idly, he added, "How can you tell?" asking after what the acolyte had noticed.

To his crushing regret, Bal would see that his surname has no meaning to the Hapans, as the courtier glosses right over it. "To begin with, you can manage a proper bow, Balthezar," she looks aside to the nearest servant, and insructs, "Demonstrate." A deep bow from the waist is executed with excellent precision and grace. The majordomo looks back to Bal with amusement in her eye and adds, "Do that, and I *may* favor you with my name."

Thrace gives a look to Aitax, "Do I need to teach you how to spot poisons, Captain?" she asks him quietly. "It might be a handy skill for you in future endeavors." she tells him with the ghost of a smile on her lips. She then explains quietly a few tips on what to look for, because she's not going to make him wait until drinks are actually poisoned!

"The irony is that I'd thought myself quite adept at spotting poisons," Aitax muttered lowly, giving a discreet ear to Lynoriel's explanation. "They conceal sensors in the rings, then?" he summarizes. "And as all of them wear rings, no sensors would stand out. Clever," he concedes, taking a sip of his own glass to cover his mouth as he adds, "They all wear daggers; more poison do you think?"

Aryn eases back against her seat, her expression pensive. Her hands have returned to their clasp, and her thumb idly thumps against her other palm, clearly thinking about what was said. Her nod indicated she understood.

"What would the Empire have in return? -- From my perspective, I can have the full strength of the Imperial fleet here and facilitate the take over of the entire cluster. This is not a threat, mind you, it is fact. I wonder how much you want this ceiling gone? Are you prepared to support our campaign to see it done? Furthermore, would you receive the same reception from the other worlds if it were you who embraced the Empire as ally, and put to rest this conflict to resume peace? To cut ties with the Rebellion and any notion that Jedi might find their way through the mists?"

A presence weaving between the crowds, Merulia does indeed watch, everything. Almost looking owlish and unnerving and more so for her makeup. Finally, eventually, her steps bring her closer, seemingly appearing beside Aitax and Lynoriel as she she finally spoke up.

"They're scared."

Speaking the obvious in her accented tones it seems.

"This is a battlefield unto itself, but one that...I am a lot less confident on."

"I don't -actually- need to know your name for what I have planned." There's a wink that comes along with those words but it does seem that he's paying somewhat attention to what she's demanding of him. He holds out the glass for one of the servants to take. He might not even be worried about getting that drink back to be honest. "But, if you insist, I suppose I could accommodate your request." Calrissian looks completely ready to do this bow. "But I'm going to need more than your name in return." He's calling her bluff. Or presenting a bluff of his own? Who ever knows with someone like Bal.

Ducha Allurigant inclined her head to acknowledge the threatening truth: "You could. Perhaps you could even send the sixty-three star destroyers needed to place one above every Consortium world. It would diminish your Empire's available strength in the rest of the galaxy, but you could do it. How much better, Darth.." she voiced, leaning subtly nearer. "To place one destroyer above the throneworld, where an allied Chume would govern Hapans in the manner to which they are agreeable? There would be opposition, of course. Maneuvers, assassins. Heresy. But that is our everyday, Darth. And every new regime offers power. Many would be eager for a measure of that power.. Many who have dwelt too long beneath a boot heel. For support to be had, support must be shown, wouldn't you agree?"

Aitax turned a look aside a bit more sharply than he might have done otherwise when Merulia *appeared* right beside them. "Ahem. That's sensible. They ought to be. And yes, a battlefield it is for certain, lady."

Bal's banter drew the bemused riposte, "You don't seem much of a thinker, but you're interesting enough. Even with that hair.." The Hapan men present were all clean shaven. "Perhaps you will need my name; are you the sort to beg for mercy, Balthezar?" She awaits the bow with lofted brow.

Thrace looks to Aitax for a moment, "It's probably just crowded in here. I'm sure it'll be caught next time." she tells him. "The Rings are clever though, I agree." she tells him.

Then there is a wild Merulia appearing and she dips her head in greeting, "Darth Arcana." she states. "And I agree with that. I'm good at mediating...but not so much the exchanging of barbs." she tells them quietly. She then focuses on the daggers that the other delegation is armed with. Looking for signs that the blades might be poisoned.

"A welcoming solution, and such an arrangement would please the Empress. Your cluster holds significant strategic value. I daresay the benefit would be mutual for both. -- Let us say I agree to this change in strategy. Would your people be compelled to fight for this future, alongside the Empire?"

Aryn leans slightly, too. Her hair moves, revealing the scar over her eye.

Ducha Allurigant answers with her eye remaining on Kalus, but her hand indicating one of her guards. "My Archon informs me that your warships have shown very refined targeting computers, and turbolaser cycling systems, Darth. If I were to send the battle dragons of the Rifle Worlds to Hapes Prime with your navy and you permitted a shared link of firing systems.. You would see a greater power in our fleets than you have yet been shown. As would all of the Consortium. Such an alliance.. in the absence of a clear line of inheritance, would be irresistible to my people."

"If you're doing it right, I might." He managed to talk his way out of having to do that whole bow thing but at least he's still being amusing. That's always a good sign. "You're right about me, though, I've never really been much of a thinker. I go with instinct. I go with feeling." Bal offers up a playful smirk. "I'm also willing to go with you." He just doesn't let up off the gas at all, does he?

Aryn nods, arriving at a point in the discussion that moved beyond her comprehension. Diplomacy, sure. Weapon systems and ships? Nope. Aryn's gaze shifts toward the direction of the Archon, meeting their gaze and holding it a moment. Raising her voice, she summons, "Captain Rendon; please approach." The Alderaanian raises her hand and gestures for him to draw closer.

The banter comes to a head when the Ducha's majordomo smiles sweetly at Bal, laughs lightly in her throat, draws a slow, savoring breath in through her nose and bids the young Calrissian, "Bow. Now," with a firm note of command underlying the two words.

"Your pardon, ladies," Aitax offers promptly to Lynoriel and Merulia as he's summoned. A short dip of his head and shoulders to the two Sith before he strides swiftly and with purpose toward the high table. "Yes, Majesty," he answers, awaiting what was needed of him.

The regal greeting the captain offered Darth Kalus was enough to ever so briefly elicit a note of surprise in the hitherto impenetrable Ducha's decorum. It's a small flicker, the raising of both brows in an instant's surprise before her expression recovers in the next moment.

Aryn nods, turning her gaze from the Archon to look at Aitax"The Ducha proposes sending her battledragons with our fleet. The matter of linking their firing systems with ours; elaborate over what advantage that would yield, please."

Thrace gives a look over the knives and she was about to say something to Aitax, but he is summoned forward. The tall woman watches him as he approaches Darth Kalus and the Ducha. And she goes into watching mode for the moment beside Merulia.

Even Bal knows when the banter is up and so he just flashes a grin but does proceed to do his own version of that demonstrated bow. Except in his version, he finds a way to make sure he continues looking at her the entire time. He's both young and flexible enough to make it happen. Besides, even if he is doing a customary action, he's going to do it his way. If it makes things worse? Oops.

The Hapan majordomo looks down her nose at Calrissian's efforts in etiquette. Keeping haughty eye contact, she notes, "That.. may have been the worst bow I've ever seen." She sniffs, but hasn't wholly lost her edge of amusement. "You are fortunate to be entertaining, despite your terrible training, Balthazar."

Aitax Rendon draws a deep breath and answers, "As best we may determine, the Hapan targeting computers are very limited in their applicable scope. Thus, in battles to date they have struggled to concentrate overwhelming firepower on fewer targets, despite a great advantage in numbers. If.." he ventures, "Their ships of the line were provided a linked targeting matrix, it would effectively double the relatative firepower of any battle dragon in support of a destroyer. Hapan capital ships cannot be the match of a star destroyer, but for their added ion cannons and torpedoes, they significantly exceed the capabilities of a Corellian gunship or Carrack."

It's a rather unfavorable critique of the revered battle dragons and the archon looks affronted, but the Ducha's expression doesn’t falter.

Looking back to the Archon, Aryn observes their reaction, then shifts her gaze to rest upon the Ducha who appears to take the critique in stride. Aryn nods, "Battledragons will not be enough." She pauses a moment, considering. "Captain, by your estimation, what does our fleet need most?"

"In order: fresh squadrons of fightercraft with skilled pilots, materials and machinery to repair existing TIE squadrons, anti-starfighter corvettes or frigates, replenished stocks of concussion missiles, and medical resupply." Aitax didn't sweeten the list; the imperial force was desperately short of many stocks, even if it was an admission of weakness in front of the nominal enemy.

"What can I say? I don't test well." Bal just keeps a big grin on his face. He doesn't seem to have a need to win so much as he just wants what he wants. Maybe most of his charm depends on being entertaining. "It was all private tutors for me growing up." Bal's grin stretches a bit wider. "Maybe that could work for me again." Calrissian eyes her once more. Almost daring her to accept such an invitation.

"We have given voice to our own current weakness. Should an alliance be forged from our conversation, we will need to know that your people will fill in the gaps in our line. I believe we can achieve this goal, Ducha. At your command, your world leads with the very industry that can reinforce us. One might say that was our strategy all along, but in truth, I think we anticipated your Queen would place more value on your worlds. -- A circumstance that surprised us both, I imagine. -- Nevertheless, I see your value, Ducha. Not only in this small endeavor of war, but in your contribution toward a greater peace; toward alliance."

Aryn glances up toward Rendon and nods her head, a quiet gesture of gratitude, before continuing. "I also believe you should be the face of change; of outrage. What happens when value is misplaced. I believe we must be seen side by side."

"First lesson," offers the majordomo who *still* hasn't told Bal her name. "You should stay bowed, until you're given permission to rise. Can you wait for permission to rise, Balthazar?"

Aitax Rendon backs up two steps when given that nod by Aryn. Removing himself from the immediate conversation, but remaining within earshot, and blithely ignoring a sharp look from the Modan archon.

To Darth Kalus, the Ducha answers, "I can be seen as the face of change, Darth. I can be seen as outraged and betrayed. I cannot have my people see me as a heretic. It is heresy to openly move against the Chume or her Chume'da." A fresh breath was drawn. "For now, your fleet will have what can be given: medical supply, missiles and torpedoes, repair and support. And once I may move without heresy.. you will have the rest, I so swear it."

-(OOC)- Lynoriel Thrace says, "Bal just blink if you need help! XD" -(OOC)- Bal Calrissian ! BLINK REFUSAL!

Thrace's gaze leaves the level of Aitax's shoulders and it fixes on the situation that Bal has found himself in. She's sure if he needs help he'll call for it.

Right?

There is a moment taken to finish off the wine in her glass and then she gives it to one of the servers that pass by. Her hands clasp gently in front of her and she stands back to watch and act if it is needed.

"Can't say that I can. I haven't actually followed rules since I was a child. It's worked out pretty well for me so far." It seems like Bal isn't even worried about that name anymore. At this point. he's just enjoying the match. "I like to do things my own way." Bal's grin is still intact no matter how much he's been shot down. "Eventually I get what I want." And now he's not even looking at her. So maybe he doesn't even know what that is anymore. Oh ho.

"Very well, Ducha," Aryn rises up, her cape nearly reaching the shined floor. "Captain Rendon, oversee the rearming and dispersion of units. Work with the Ducha's Archon to ensure no detail is overlooked."

To the Ducha, Aryn dips her chin again and addresses her directly. "Your Excellency, I am thankful of your pursuit for diplomacy. I foresee our alliance will be to great benefit toward peace." With the proverbial 'cat' out of the bag, the Alderaanian Royal offered her hand as parting gesture. "..be well."

"Pity," Bal is answered. "If you could have followed instructions, you might have been.. still more entertaining." Her eye went aside to the high table as the Imperial emissary rose in time with the Ducha, and as it looked like the function was concluding, he glanced back to Bal, sniffed once- difficult to tell whether in disdain, amusement, or amused disdain- and walked off toward the Ducha's entourage without another word, triled by servants.

Aitax Rendon replied, "Yes, Majesty," before turning to regard the Modan archon, as if utterly unaware that she was glaring back at him. Logistics would be professionally discussed.

Allurigant Novi herself matched the precise tilt and extension of Kalus' respects, as to an equal, voicing, "Modus is grateful to you for your vision, Darth Kalus. I too look forward to the victories we shall win, side by side."

Thrace looks back towards where Aitax was and there is a note of the glare that was given to him by the Archon. The tall woman decides that she's just going to stare at her from across the way. It's not a threatening thing, but maybe it would give them something else to glare at for a few minutes.

Aryn accepted the posturing of her being an equal. If she was to lead the Hapans one day, she needed to stand apart. Remaining silent, she brought her hand back and locked it at the small of her back. With a gentle turn, she moved back to the view to peer out the viewport as the procession left.