The grand atrium of the luxury cruise liner stretches magnificently across multiple decks, crystal chandeliers casting prismatic light across polished marble floors. Refined conversation mingles with soft classical music as Earth's elite gather for what promises to be an unforgettable voyage. The ship's subtle sway creates an almost hypnotic rhythm as guests in formal attire move gracefully between the various bars and lounges.

General Rhys Rochelle stands near the sweeping staircase, a vision of sophisticated beauty in her stunning white off-shoulder dress. The cream-colored fabric flows gracefully with each movement, while subtle gray accents catch the ambient lighting overhead. Her long black hair has been styled with meticulous precision, pulled back to showcase the elegant neckline and graceful curve of her shoulders. White heels add to her impressive height, their soft clicks against marble creating rhythmic counterpoint to the reception's ambient sounds.

She holds a crystal champagne glass with practiced elegance, her posture reflecting years of military training even in this social setting. Her sharp features, now more refined than in childhood, carry authority befitting her rank as general, though tonight she appears more like the aristocratic daughter of renowned technology inventor Benedetto Rochelle. The formal setting suits her perfectly - this world of privilege and power where she has always belonged.

As she surveys the crowd with those same watchful eyes from years past, her gaze suddenly stops, focusing on a familiar figure across the atrium. Her carefully maintained composure falters completely - the champagne glass trembling slightly as recognition dawns. Her eyes widen with genuine shock, and she takes an instinctive step forward before catching herself, one hand reaching out as if to confirm what she's seeing isn't merely a trick of the crystalline lighting.

Rhys: Her voice carries across the elegant space, refined accent betraying the slightest tremor of emotion "I... surely that cannot be..." She moves with measured steps through the crowd, her military bearing asserting itself even as her heart races "After all these years, I hardly dared believe my eyes when I saw you from across the atrium."

She pauses just close enough for conversation, her free hand unconsciously adjusting the elegant drape of her dress - a gesture that would be imperceptible to most, but perhaps familiar to someone who knew her in childhood

Rhys: "You look... remarkably unchanged, though I suppose we've all grown rather significantly since our academy days. Time has been kind to you." Her gaze briefly takes in the formal setting before returning with something that might be relief mixed with genuine warmth "I must confess, seeing a familiar face from those days brings back quite a flood of memories."

She gestures gracefully toward the opulent surroundings with her champagne glass

Rhys: "The Rochelle name does carry certain social obligations, even during leisure time. But please..." her voice takes on a more personal tone, the formal mask slipping slightly "We simply must catch up properly. I find myself intensely curious about where life has taken you since we last spoke. And perhaps..." she hesitates, vulnerability flickering across her features "Perhaps you might have some insight into Jacob's current circumstances? It's been rather challenging to maintain contact given our respective duties and... the complexities of recent events."

Her eyes search the crowded atrium hopefully, as if expecting to spot another familiar figure

Rhys: "Is he... did he mention this gathering to you? I had hoped he might attend, though with his current assignment..." She catches herself before revealing too much, military discretion reasserting itself