Private His Fall Was Not a Small One

[Verity Stuyveris]

THE SENATE BUILDING
THEED - 2231 HOURS LOCAL
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The legislative reception had gone long; by the time it broke up it, was just past half ten, and the leading luminaries of the Senate had slowly begun to peel off toward the exits. Verity had a few more things to take care of before the night was through, so she made her excuses to the small knot of philanthropists she had been speaking to about STACREST fundraising, promised to be in touch later that week, and began moving across the reception room against the flow of departing guests, away from the exit doors and toward the lifts instead. She nodded at a few of her colleagues as she passed them.

As she rounded the corner into the dimly lit corridor, she noticed a familiar figure also approaching the lifts, the unnaturally vivid lilac of her hair identifying her straight away, the impeccable dress only confirming her identity.

Verity stepped up next to Dominique Vexx and smiled tiredly sidelong at her. "Burning the midnight oil again?" she asked. "They always say no rest for the wicked, but what about us?" Her nasal huff might have been a laugh if she had the energy, but she had entered the building more than sixteen hours before. A hand smoothed a wrinkle in the ice-blue shimmersilk of her evening gown, the unguarded gesture her one concession to the hour.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Verity entered with Dominique and pushed the key for the executive floor. As the doors slid shut, Verity's commlink pinged with a message from Varencourt, informing her that the edits on the Sentient Rights legislation were stalled because some "provincial obstructionist" -- one of her colleagues from a Mid Rim world, she understood immediately -- had raised objections about some things that were not immediately clear, but he promised to provide details. Just like that, the plans she had for her own midnight-oil burning were delayed.

She glanced at Dominique in the mirrored doors of the lift.

Well, no time like the present.

"Chancellor -- Dominique," she said, hoping to soften the conversation with some companionable informality. "Can I walk you to your office? There is a matter of some importance I'd like to raise, and a wise woman once told me that sometimes it pays to discuss something quietly before shouting about it on the floor of the Senate."

Dominique Vexx

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[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique paused at the bottom of the stairs to examine a report an aide handed her. "Good." She extended the pad back to them with a meaningful stare. "See to it." There much a great deal that needed done in the Republic, not the least of which was dealing with their western border. Countless small movements designed to keep their Sith competitors unawares.

A Chancellor's work was never done. Not even after a long Session with the Senate. Not that Dominique would be caught sighing and lamenting the work load. She felt it. The pressure. The energy bleeding from her with one crisis after another. But it wasn't unfamiliar. Being an Executive Director on Denon -- in the Corporate Sector -- was not for the faint of heart, or those easily dismayed. Hopefully that had been one of the reasons Aurelian and Sibylla had goaded her into announcing her candidacy. That and not being a narcissist out to bleed the Republic dry.

Her steps were as firm as ever if a touch slower in gait than usual as she approached the lifts. Perhaps she'd grab a caf and take a moment to look out over the night canopies before reports and maps cluttered her desk and the windows themselves. Half past ten, but early yet.

Unexpectedly, she found Verity Stuyveris occupying a place by her side in wait for the lift. A smirk graced the corner of her lips in response. Curious discussions resulted from chance encounters.

"Some days I wonder why my detractors don't accuse me of being a Sangnir," Dominique replied in good humor with Verity's questions. Besides, who was to say she was not wicked? Darktrace certainly thought her evil incarnate. Well, sometimes you needed a devil to fight a devil. Best not to go down that line of thought aloud.

She wondered how many private investigators had been sent to discover if Dominique took illicit drugs to stay awake into the late hours of the night.

The women stepped in the lift once it arrived, and had it sent on its way. Verity was briefly distracted with a notification, which left Dominique a chance to check the messages displayed on the interior of her lilac glareshades. Unplug? Dominique Vexx rarely was ever truly disconnected from the 'net and the goings on in the galaxy. A matter that had Ayumi constantly vying to lure the fellow Denonite out for a night on the town.

When Verity spoke up, Dominique's attention shifted back to the Senator. She turned her head to look over in the woman's direction. "A very wise woman. Ensures good intentions aren't sidelined." They were on the same page about what they spoke, of course. "I'd love if you joined me, Verity. Would you like some fresh caf? I'd hate for the soft chairs to be a distraction." Once they exited the lift Dominique would give an ocular-gesture for her shades to send word of a visitor en route. Her Secretary would make sure there was enough brew for them both.