Cui Bono?
N A R S H A D D A A
N E W
V E R T I C A
C I T Y
The pulse of the music thrummed throughout all three floors of the night club. At the lowest level, on the dance floor, the beat of the bass shivered through the crush of bodies, mixing in the air with the rife smell of cologne and perfume and sweat and alcohol into an overwhelming, hot, and stifling mixture. The second floor offered some relief, separated into private lounges on a balcony overlooking the floor, but still blinded by the occasional swing of the spotlights and lasers and blast of the fog machine. Higher still, on the third floor, there was a patio in the open air - far removed from the press of people below.
Here, Mauve waited with drink in hand. She could feel the sound of the music pulsing beneath them through the building's structure and up through her heels. Mauve could also feel the swirl of emotions, heady and intoxicating as they ranged from simple lust and debauchery to heartbreak and grief to those lost in the thrill of the music and the moment. Her plum painted lips curled in a smile and she tossed back her wine dark hair.
From her position at the balcony she could see clear off the side of the floating city of New Vertica. Far down below were the jutting spires of the moonscape of Nar Shaddaa. Her home.
She took another sip of her drink and avoided checking her watch. Her contact would be here whenever she arrived. No use fretting over it.
Even though Mauve stood to make a substantial sum if she played her hand correctly.
Casting a glance over her bare shoulder, Mauve adjusted the thin strap of her sable cocktail dress and scanned the crowd with eyes of violet.
Bastila, Bastila... where are you?
Bastila Sal-Soren