In a way, Commander Sendak’s presence was nearly just as dominating as the Emperor’s. The respect usually came from intimidation, or for his sheer longevity, or even out of just simple formality. For that reason, none dared (nobody ranking lower than the Inner Circle, that was) to approach the ancient Galran even at his place relatively front and center. That was how he liked it; the casual talk of these glorified parties mattered little to him. Being here at all was merely a part of the diplomatic necessity of his job. The side that didn’t interest him.
As he stared across the room of faces, Sendak wondered how many of them were lying, too. How many of them actually cared to be here and how many saw it for what it was; an excuse to make an impression.
Sendak did not. His reputation had long since preceded him, and he’d grown out of the urge to prove himself in the same way the officers here vied for. He was nothing if not an ambitious individual at the best of times, but the regular squabbles of these people... It was so beneath him. Despite it, there was still an attempt to keep the disdain out of his immediate expression.
Usually, he’d glance just long enough for his cybernetic to spit out an array of intel on the individual before moving on. Yet, he found his gaze lingering this once upon a peculiar sight. A dozen or more flickers of tiny lights flitted about a single individual, nearly mistaken as a malfunction in his left eye — like glow-bugs, but... They were all far from planet-side. His head was still, but his cybernetic caught an enhanced, zoomed snapshot of one of the lights in question. Not insects, but rather tiny drones. Were they for show? If they were meant to draw attention, it worked. Their owner and potential creator was locked in conversation with another, her face pulled into a tense half-grimace. Clearly, whoever she was speaking to was (or was becoming) a most unwelcome guest.
Little piqued Sendak’s interest. When it did, he rarely hesitated to engage. Thus with a soft exhale of breath, the Commander moves at last and pulls away from his place. He doesn’t make a beeline towards them, instead watches and waits, not unlike any spaceborne predator, for the right moment.
That right moment was when the light-show of a Galran pulled away towards one of the tables at the back of the room, looking all the more irritated that her company tailed after them. The ghost of a smirk threatens at his lips, but Sendak maintains an almost icily monotonous expression as he moves in.
It’s just as her guest begins to loom over her shoulder does Sendak reach out and take theirs. He doesn’t even pull, only holds them back, barely makes his touch against the pauldron of this bothersome individual known before they’re whirling around to see who would dare. An angered expression immediately drops when they see who it is, though. Sendak drops his arm, and gestures elsewhere.
“ Move along. ” He says curtly.
