If the old retired guard officer finds Veche intimidating he does not show it. In fact, as the giant of a man speaks of his scars and so casually of killing Comisarati he simply reaches into his suit jacket with his free hand and produces as silver-plated lighter- and old flip model bearing the Imperial eagle in star black. While he does this his other arm carefully cradles the shaft lf his cane in the nook of his elbow while his other hand fishes in his pants pockets. After a few moments - and with a little cursing - he produces not an elegant and expensive case of cigars or obscura wands but a simple pack of beat-up lho sticks, a staple for almost any guardsman that did more to show his past affiliation than any words.<br/><br/>With a sigh he lights one and flips the lighter closed with a practiced ease a slips it back into his jacket before resuming  his previous position and savors the opportunity to smoke. " We once had a Commissar who decided my regiment didn't need these " he gestures with the hand holding the lho " Needless to say she... well,  grenades and friendly fire are a hell of a thing. " The retired officer recounts the tale without a sign of remorse for the unfortunate morale officer, in fact the most he gives her memory is a half-hearted shrug. " She was a brash woman. Abused her power like a power-maul happy Arbiter she did; little better than a harpy. "<br/><br/>The harsh look on his bearded face when he spoke about the woman fades as Salinas pipes up, with a smart barb at the great feral man's own flirting. His face twists into a smile beneath his bushy beard and he holds up a single hand. “It’s true, you know.” he looms over to Veche and laughs. " I know plenty a guardsman who, on their time of leave , spent much time with the feral women.” Another, smaller laugh. ” Probably lots of pale skinned ferals there by now...”<br/><br/>His musing was cut short however as the shouted request for a lighter carries to his ears. His eyes drift to the red head , the woman plenty easy to spot with the nobles previously surrounding her following their better sense and backing away from her or otherwise excusing themselves of her presence. The ex guardsman seems to only find it humorous however and he quickly waves her over ams produces his lighter once more for her with a casual,  well-practiced fluidity that spoke of countless repetitions before they. " I dare day I have one. " his grin was friendly behind his beard and once he was sure she was lit he flicked the device closed once more and snuffed the blue flame. " So I see all of you here definitely are not nobles. Not that I am either, mind you. Perhaps you're friends or famil-"<br/><br/>His musing is cut off by the gasping of a crowd and a few resounding repetitions of 'Emperor's bowels ' or ' Gilded Throne!'  along with a colorful variety of other thoroughly imperial proclamations. Beyond the great sheet of void-proofed glass that made up the obscenely large observation window on the Bridge the point defense weapons had fired two of their shells,  the act of them firing sending vibrations along the deck plating that were just barely palpable in the heels of one's feet. The shells after a short flight had burst right in front of the great window and lights dimmed to near-blackness to afford the guests a better view.<br/><br/>Hanging there in front of the observation window for all to see was a golden rendition of the Imperial Aquila for all to see. A few in the crowd bowed their heads reverently and made the Aquila- the former guardsmen saluting it meanwhile. The rest of the less religious nobles and esteemed guests simply gawped at the display. Most were too busy to see a figure slipping through the crowd in the dark, too uninterested in the feminine shape that took a seat in the great command throne that headed off the table on which the feast laid prepared and that of course was the intention...<br/><br/>After a few short minutes the particles that had formed the great golden eagle of the Imperium drifted apart, leaving the guests with once again a view of nothing but the cold and distant stars. The lights once more activated as if on cue and the room is once more bathed in warm, yellow light rather than the dim twinkling lights stars and the crowd once again began to turn from the window and talk amongst themselves now that the surprise of the display had worn thin. There was of course a general agreement that it was particularly impressive and likely arranged by the Trader but still there were hushed mumbles about where the woman could possibly and they did not go unanswered for long.<br/>There was a colorful peal of laughter followed by the clapping of hands that came from the command throne seated at the head of the table. Upon the large and ornately crafted was seated none other than a woman, the shipmaster herself. Her back was propped up against one arm of the throne with her legs thrown over the other end carelessly, with her legs crossed at the ankles. “I am so glad everyone enjoyed the little display I put together. Those shells were most certainly not cheap, mind you.” The coin had actually done the shipmaster little justice it seemed. Even carved in relief she was definitely a beauty but in person she was almost beyond that. Her face was smooth and unscarred, her cheeks high and round, jaw seemingly delicate and between her plump purple painted lips shone teeth capped in mother of pearl as she smiled quite literally dazzlingly. Her mode of dress was as to be expected for a captain a thick, black and very ornate tailed coat with purple lapels and a similarly colored silken undershirt covered her torso, a black sash adorned with elegant stitching cinched around her waist. Her pants were black as well and though of excellent craft lacked the impressive and subtle flourishes of the coat’s silve buckles and various other intricacies. Even her boots were of the finest craft, knee high and made from some kind of fine leather with heels that no doubt made the short, curvy woman look a little more impressive when she finally uncrossed her legs and stood for her crowd, bowing just slightly at the waist with her fanciful and ostentatious tri corn hat occupying her seat though the black scarf she’d worn beneath it still covered her head.<br/><br/>After standing she simply lets her violet colored eyes scan over the crowd, picking out those she’d already decided to hire well in advance and was quite pleased to have seen all of them had made it. One hand rested on the pommel of the sword tucked into the sash at her waist, the scabbard adorned with elegant runes of Eldar origin and elegantly curved to fit the saber-like curve of the exotic xenos blade. Ana cut quite the striking appearance with jet black hair that trailed nearly to the mid of her back and was held back only by a piece of dainty purple lace to keep it from her face. The soft click of her heels sounded on the tiled floors and she was soon in the crowd making her rounds from person to person, from group of gossiping nobles to the next and giving tired old platitudes about support in whatever next political movement they would undoubtedly try to force on their people. It was dull and tiring to Ana even as much of a social creature as the Rogue Trader was the concerns of nobles she’d never see again were not exactly high on her list of priorities compared to say… surrounding herself with a capable retinue once more but selfish nobles will be selfish nobles after all. She works a quick counter-clockwise circles around the room, politely ending most conversations before they ever really even began with some deft social maneuvering and soon enough the esteemed captain came to Salinas’ group.<br/><br/>Her purple eyes passed over everyone and paused for the briefest moment on the tall and gangly redhead. Something clicked against the Rogue Trader’s teeth and she smiled impishly as she remembered just how she stole the woman’s Gladstone in a heated kiss five long years ago. It clicked once more and despite the warm and fuzzy glow the weak narcotic effect of the stone provided she once more managed to bury it beneath her tongue. Ana felt elation course through her at long last, the thrill of the fact that the mouse had once more returned to the domain of the cat , the moth to her flame but she pushed that feeling aside, her face passive as she turned her eyes to the guardsman instead. “ Odwin, you look better than I remember! Did they finally manage to treat everything?” And just like that the game with Cyrine had begun, just how long could they both ignore each other? The former officer laughed in a short chuff and nodded his head. “I’d offer to give you a hug Annie but well… I’m sure you don’t want ashes on that coat of yours.” Ana shook her head, the trader embracing the man anyways before letting go a short while after and grinning at him. “ Nonsense, you’re still my friend Odwin. Where would you be if I hadn’t transported your men when the Navy refused?”<br/><br/>“ Probably dead under a hostile star but that’s neither here nor there.” He shrugged his broad shoulders and snubbed his lho stick inside the pack it came in before tucking them away in his pocket. “ I think you’ve chosen some interesting candidates for invitations, hrmm” He nods his head towards the two feral worlders and then Cyrine herself though Ana does not acknowledge the remembrance quite yet.  Her purple eyes brighten and she nods, finally looking to Salinas and Veche and offering her pale hand for them to take in turn. “Salinas and.. Veche, yes?” It may have been surprising to the pair but she knew them both quite well by appearance and name and had spent some time at least reviewing what she could about them before the party. " I must say Veche, you are a good deal larger than I was lead to believe in them picts." It was a simple joke, an ice breaker and one that was only exaggerated by the fact that Ana herself was not even five and a half feet tall when not in her heeled boots.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>