Private The Queens Gambit

[Dominique Vexx]

Nearing Club Omicron Theta, District 7, Denon

Dominique settled comfortably into the leather seating with one leg crossed over the other. Her hands were folded together atop a knee as her golden eyes stared across at the other occupant in the flying carriage. The invitation had been outstanding for some time. Events, it seemed, kept outpacing them, but after everything that'd happened now was a great time for Sibylla Abrantes to get away from it all. More importantly, it was an opportune time for the two women to grow closer together.

It was obvious Sibylla and Aurelian had some sort of plot in motion. She'd long suspected some sort of... arrangement between them. Since both of them declared to run for monarch of Naboo, however, that bond had become all the more obvious to Dominique. What, exactly, they intended wasn't clear, but it seemed similar to Dominique's own machinations in order to claim power and authority over her own world -- wrestle enough control back in order to take the first few steps to a new future. She could respect that. And that their budding understanding could benefit from exploring further. For that new future those of power sought for Naboo, the Republic, and so Denon.

It wasn't long after Sibylla arrived that Dominique had guided her to a transport. "Oh, no, I wouldn't invite all my 'friends' to the office," she'd merrily replied at the time, "it's far too stuffy here. It won't take long to arrive." From the starry eyed looks and enthusiastic expectation, Dominique could tell Sibylla had some... interesting preconceptions about where they were headed. Interesting and very, very wrong. Which made it all the more exciting.

The pure white suit Dominique wore as a Director only fed into those preconceived notions, of course.

"Sibylla, what sort of social venues have you attended before, if you don't mind my asking? Besides ballrooms."

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

The hum of the transport after she sat was steady beneath her, a low rhythm that seemed to carry with it all her restless excitement. Sibylla had never set foot on Denon before, and though Naboo's elegance and the Crown Worlds had been the only worlds she'd truly known, so the thought of something entirely different thrilled her. Terribly so.

She had accepted Dominique's invitation without hesitation, though perhaps without quite realizing how much it would mean to her. To step outside Naboo's polished halls and endless expectations, to see the world through someone else's lens, someone she trusted enough to follow, was liberating in a way she hadn't expected.

A rare, genuine smile lingered on her lips as she glanced at Dominique, the golden light of the city below reflecting faintly in her hazel eyes.

"Oh, well, all the classic venues as expected back home. Galas, hunts, picnics, auction events, museum showings, the opera... piano concerts... Guarlana riding events, and oh, Dejarik competitions." She let the last sit with a soft laugh, as if it betrayed something more casual of her than most would ever guess. She did enjoy playing a game or two. The piano, of course, was close to her heart... but playing that recently had come with its own battles... and memories tied to aching longing.

Denon, she was certain, would be nothing like any of those. And that thought alone was enough to make her pulse quicken in excitement.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

"Dejarik competitions," Dominique echoed casually. Just about as refined and lofty an upbringing one could expect. On par with the Skyline occupants, really. One that enjoyed all the luxuries life had to offer because they had the authority, the wealth, and the social position to be spared anything else. Countless servants. Guards. Comfort and familiarity.

Not that Sibylla's companion thought less of her for it. That was what so many on Denon craved. They pined after it with every breath from birth to the grave. Few besmirched those that acquired it or were lucky enough to be born into it. Everyone was just... momentarily embarrassed, down on their luck and would one day -- quite soon, no doubt -- claim the lap of luxury for themselves. It was a nice dream, anyway. Few appreciated what you had to do and sacrifice to truly make it.

"Well, if you find yourself overwhelmed, Sibylla, just think of it like a game of Dejarik. Colorful pieces on a large, expansive board where you play the players as much as the pieces." Dominique smiled. Things were certainly about to get... interesting for her new friend. Dominique could just imagine if one of those lofty, ultra wealthy in their sky palaces were brought low among the rabble -- what a culture shock it would be. "And remember," she leaned forward to pat Sibylla's hand or knee, "I'll be right there with you."

Her golden eyes slid to the side as the vehicle began to descend. "And so it begins." Dominique reached up slowly to unravel the coils of her hair and then draw it back and tie it behind her head. "You did want to see where I learned a certain set of skills." The crisp white outfit suddenly rippled and began to turn black and reveal far more skin than it had a second ago. Nothing too outrageous. Stomach. Arms. Upper chest. There may have been overlays of a few tattoos as well -- they were just clothing of another kind. With a tap of her finger the lilac glareshades turned violet. "And one should dress for the occasion."

The change had been timed so there'd only be a few seconds before their carriage's door would slide open. Dominique lifted a knee-high boot and stepped out first. She paused bathed in the neon glow of the heart of Denon to look back at Sibylla; her finely manicured, but radiant nails shone with her hand extended back toward the other woman. "The opening move is always the hardest."

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Interacting with: Dominique Vexx
Items: x x x x x | Wearing: x

For a moment, Sibylla could only blink, her hazel eyes widening as they betrayed every ounce of her awe. She had just watched Dominique's white suit shimmer, shift, and dissolve into something entirely different; the black fabric clinging in daring lines with tattoos ghosting into view beneath the glow of Denon's neon. It was so quick, so seamless, that Sibylla found herself giving a double take, as though she'd imagined the transformation.

But she hadn't.

Sibylla's breath caught halfway between awe and delight, and then that grin that spread across her face was nothing short of giddy.

"Where did you get those clothes to do that?!" she blurted, sounding more like an eager girl at a market stall than Naboo's Junior Ambassador or candidate for the Sovereign of Naboo. It was utterly genuine, her admiration shining as brightly as the city lights spilling into the transport.

The moment the door slid open, Sibylla gave Dominique a quick arch of her brow, curiosity sparking in her gaze as the Denonite held out an outstretched hand to her. The teenager had trained nearly all her life to sense when there was more beneath the surface, and clearly, this was no simple outing. None the less, Sibylla slipped her fingers into Dominique's without hesitation, her smile returning in a genuine smile that brightened her whole face.

"Well," she said, unable to resist a teasing lift of her chin, "now I'm starting to feel a little underdressed. So tell me, where exactly are we going?"

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique smiled as Sibylla seemed more excited than afraid. Well, the real fun had yet to begin. Perhaps it was merely cosplay to her at the moment. Nonetheless, she wasn't trembling so far which meant there was a chance she might be able to handle what was to come. "I made them." They certainly weren't found in your local street-side clothing venue. Even the wealthy hadn't the luxury of such attire. Then again most of them didn't see the need for rapid wardrobe changes; they thought such a thing theatrics meant for stage play.

The thing was, life was stage play and theatrics. Especially when it came to credits.

"Underdressed?" Dominique echoed with a smirk. She turned to look ahead at the top of the stairs that led from the landing platform. "Club Omicron Theta is just down there."

The sound of the transport's engines spinning up preceded its gradual ascension.

With a peek back at Sibylla, Dominique started forward with the other woman in hand. "Remember to stay close. Best if we don't use our real ones here. Mine's Mastema. What should I call you?" It'd take a minute to climb down the stairs to the street-level entrance of the club, so Sibylla had time to think or respond. Below them milled a few people dressed in an assortment of colors, or a good deal of black. There weren't really any earth-tones to be found in the depths of Denon. Typically because there wasn't any earth to be found there either, and it looked black under the neon lights so what was the point?

Once they neared the bottom and got on the level, Sibylla would be able to more clearly see Denon's citizens. A few wore plainer clothes. Monotone wardrobes without any overly elaborate highlights. Most, however, wore nothing like Sibylla would see on Naboo. Even Dominique's own high fashion sense on display in chambers was a pale imitation by comparison -- on purpose so as not to arrest any beating hearts. Down here they alternated between wearing little, and wearing clothing that glowed or shone under the light.

"Here, no two people look alike. Here, everything is possible. The trappings and rules of the world fall away and everything is left bare." Dominique looked back at Sibylla with a smile. "There are no expectations, and no safety nets, but the ones you bring with you." Some found it liberating. And to a degree it was, but Dominique had also found it quite exhausting earlier on in her career. You could do anything... and so could everyone else, which made self-protection your own responsibility and that took quite the effort.

Location: Club Omicron Theta, District 7, Denon
Dominique's Alias: Mastema
Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Sibylla blinked, her brows lifting when Dominique so casually revealed, I made them. That alone was enough to make her stare in fresh wonder, but the name of the club quickly pulled her thoughts in a different direction. Omicron Theta. Even the way it sounded felt like stepping into another world.

Her grip on Dominique's hand tightened, not out of fear, but in the same kind of thrill that had her heart beating faster.

"Mastema…" she echoed softly, tasting the alias with a half smile. Her gaze flicked over the neon-lit crowd below, her lips curling in something equal parts amazed and overwhelmed.

This didn't look like the typical Dejarrik club. Sibylla was sheltered, but she wasn't stupid. A new rush raced through her, biting her lower lip as she considered what name to pick.

"Call me…" a pause, then she laughed lightly, shaking her head at herself. "Call me Lyra."

She didn't know why she chose it; maybe because it felt freer to go by a name no one else would tie to Sibylla, but the way she said it was full of that same giddy excitement that hadn't left her since stepping onto Denon.

"This isn't a normal Dejarrik club, is it?" she asked, looking around but just as giddy, her hazel eyes wide as she took everything in. Even the slight danger was a thrill. This wasn't like the danger one expected with an assassin coming over trying to kill her just because she was the Daughter of Abrantes.

No, this instead was a thrill.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique twisted her upper body around even as her feet carried them unerringly forward. A smile openly drew the corners of her lips out wide. "No," she all but purred, "not a normal Dejarrik club. Lyra." Laughter bubbled forth to add to Sibylla's moment.

"Think of this as an opportunity to explore a different life. No one here knows you. No one cares. There aren't even any cameras -- recording people in here gets you killed, if you're lucky." Not that it had stopped Dominique, but her recording device was discrete and its snapshots of people weren't shared with anyone else on the planet. The point, however, was Sibylla didn't need to conform to anyone's expectations; nothing that happened would be known by another soul. Unless Sibylla started a gang war then someone might recall her face, but only just.

There was, of course, an opportunity for a ruthless, cut-throat corporate Director to acquire blackmail material if one truly did 'let go' and explore their wild side. Was that what Dominique sought? Did it even cross Sibylla's mind? Had it Dominique's?

"And Love," she slowed down enough for Sibylla to close the gap between them with momentum alone, "don't order a wine here." With the neon glow painting her silky smooth complexion purples and blues, golden rings studied the other woman for a moment. "A Blue Yagen would be fruity enough, and not too strong." Sibylla might not know what drink to pick if not something refined, so an option was provided. Better than someone defaulting to asking for blue milk.

They'd draw near the entryway situated down a short hallway. Graffiti and tags marked the walls and even the ceiling. A broad-shoulder unit of a man -- or woman -- stood at the door wearing a suit. Sometimes, to stand out in the world of cyberpunks, one wore 'normal' attire. Dominique supplied them a smile, but didn't slow a hair under their granite stare.

"Long as you don't make a fuss, they don't make a fuss," Dominique affirmed after they'd passed and the music within grew noticeably louder. Not enough to drown out conversation between them, but enough to keep from overhearing all the other small groups inside and whatever they were discussing.

No one was completely naked -- even clubs had standards to keep people from doing something obviously idiotic -- but there was an eclectic sense of fashion within. Some certain wore more or less than others. Many had cybernetic prosthetics or enhancements on full display. Arms. Legs. Eyes. More than they'd been born with at times. All manner of color too; even for what seemed otherwise normal eyes, hair, or skin. It was a place that dared someone to stare, and that would take too long of a stare as an excuse for... whatever they came searching for. Trouble. Company. Entertainment.

"Welcome to Omicron Theta, Lyra."

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Lyra.

The name felt strange in her ears as Dominique welcomed her to the club, but deliciously so. Sibylla let it roll in her mind like a forbidden sweet, each step into the pulsing neon belly of the feeding her excitement. Her father would have been scandalized to see her here, without guards, without her titles, her hair loose and her blouse hanging free. That thought alone made her grin widen as Dominique's words purred over like liquid temptation.

No one knew her here. No one cared.

As Lyra, she could be someone else. Not Naboo's dutiful Ambassador. Not the girl endlessly measured by her House's weight or her brother's overprotectiveness. Just… someone who could laugh too loudly, dance without rhythm, maybe even drink too much.

Wasn't that what Lysander always hinted at when he teased her about "real fun"? The things he and his friends slipped into with smirks and late hours, daring each other to cross invisible lines?

Her cat eyed lined hazel eyes swept the hall as the graffiti bled together under the glow of ultraviolet. The heavy bass throbbed in her chest before they even entered, and the sheer press of it all between the crowd, the color, the music made her breath catch.

"Blue Yagen," she repeated, her lips curving in wonder.

"That sounds… delicious." She laughed, but there was a note of thrill in it. Fruity and not too strong, Dominique had said, but the name alone conjured something sharper. A drink that wasn't served in crystal goblets, wasn't paired with polite applause at a piano recital. A drink that belonged here, in a place where rules were suggestions at best.

Her heart raced as Dominique's eyes lingered on her, the promise of freedom reflected in them. So Lyrastraightened her shoulders and then gave the widest of smiles even though inside, she still felt more than a little nervous.

But what better place to play pretend and have fun as someone else?!

"Then I'll try a Blue Yagen," she decided, leaning close to Dominique so the woman could hear her but eager as the door opened wider and the music swallowed them whole. Aurelian had said she’d eventually find what she’d like. "If I'm going to be Lyra tonight, I should learn how she drinks."

Inside, as the press of bodies and lights greeted her, Sibylla couldn't help it, her smile spread into something that nearly split her face in awe and oddly, a rush of guilty pleasure at what this night could be. And she was ready.

“Soo… after the drink. Where does one start?”

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique smiled as Sibylla appeared adaptable to her circumstances. Her golden eyes slid forward and then back to another that had their eyes on Lyra. The smile didn't diminish, but two fingers tapped the top of her forearm; a flare of holo netting flared into being along her arm and vanished just as quickly. Their eyes met for half a second before they looked elsewhere. Just a polite promise of trouble if they thought to get too familiar with Mastema's friend. Not everyone knew her here; just those that mattered.

"Anything's possible. Drinking. Dancing. Testing your slicing skills against the establishment's security and hoping they don't catch you." Dominique slowed for a moment and drew nearer to Sibylla. She discretely pointed off to the side to an alcove. "If you were a merc, there's good money to be made. A dangerous life, but a living."

She'd guide her companion toward the bar so they could order. "Some come here looking for trouble. They'll often find it. Others want to get lost. Some want to be seen," and with that she lifted her chin down the length of the bar. A pair of questionably gendered individuals sat facing one another wearing more tattoos and cyberlines than clothing.

"Where you start depends on what you're looking for, but you can always count on the bartender to point you in the right direction." Dominique leaned back and smirked to the man on the other side of the counter. "Or tell you to get lost, if he thinks you aren't ready."

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Sibylla bit her lower lip. It was a strange twist of irony. In the assembly or when there was a need for her to stand up and present her voice and ideas to sway policy, she had no issue moving forward with outward confidence even if inside, she was doing the best she could to maintain her composure.

Here, well, it was still slightly overwhelming, and doubt clawed at her mind, making her wonder if she would stand out and be entirely too awkward. What if she was too stiff? Too proper?

She was out of her element and she new it. And while she had DOminique here to support her, it still felt... an odd mix of excitement but nervous fluttering low in her belly.

"Bartender. Blue Yagen. I can at least order that," Sibylla finally exhaled out, drawing back her shoulders to play the part of a confident young woman and began to weave her way through the crowd to get there.

There were so many people.

The heat of bodies pressing, accidentally bumping, glancing at her, either in indifference or in mild curiosity throughout the club. The music was loud, the lights were bright, and it was soo nothing like the galas and courts of Naboo.

She finally made it to the bartender, where a bright blue haired man that Dominique pointed out stood cleaning up a tall glass.

He took one look at her and lifted his chin, going, "What'itl be?"

"Blue Yagen, please." The polite request was rather comical for Sibylla to say. It made her blush. Was she still supposed to state the pleasures?

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique nodded slightly and turned toward the bar as Sibylla seemed to gather herself. Her eyes flicked from Sibylla to the bartender once the order was given. Politely. "Core Hole," Mastema said succinctly. It was neither sneer nor disdain, mere fact. She wanted a drink, they had it, there it was. A slight twist at the corner of her lips and rotation of her head in Sibylla's direction was tossed in to silently convey not to overlook her. Politeness usually meant someone was green. Newbies sometimes got the rough treatment. No need for that, but there was nothing Dominique could do about a certain amount hazing to be had. The place was not a bastion of high society behavior.

"At once, your worshipfulness," he said with a good amount of cheek, and no bow. Not so much as a nod. There wasn't time to dawdle, however; other people had orders and they'd give as much lip as they'd get. Still, if others didn't show up there could always be more lip given by the bartender than Sibylla was prepared to give.

"Not a bad beginning, Lyra." Could have started off far worse than gratitude. "But down here being nice is seen as weakness. Unless you turn around and curb stomp their ass." Mastema shrugged as if it were perfectly normal and unavoidable that some people needed put in their place. "No one has time for courtesy." Efficient as the lifestyle was it was also chaotic; Dominique wished there were a way both halves of her life might dispense with their social drawbacks and find a way to embody only their strengths. "Just make sure you don't insult someone you aren't prepared to fight."

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Sibylla winced the moment the bartender was out of earshot, her nose scrunching as she realized just how green she must have sounded. Her fingers tapped against the counter in a nervous little rhythm as she cast Dominique a sheepish smile.

"I suppose I should have guessed," she murmured, half-chiding herself. "Courtesy here is seen as weakness, or worse, an invitation."

She leaned a little closer to Dominique, lips quirking in self-deprecating humor.

"I'll try not to bow next time," she whispered, her gaze drifting past Dominique, drawn to the swell of movement on the dance floor. Bodies twisted and spun beneath the pulse of neon, their shapes gleaming with chrome and glitter, skin and synth flashing in the strobe of color. The bassline was so deep it rattled her ribs, and for a moment she forgot her nerves entirely.

She blinked, then turned back toward Dominique, a grin breaking across her face that was equal parts wide-eyed wonder and giddy mischief. Leaning closer so her words wouldn't be swallowed whole by the music, she tilted her head.

"So, Mastema," she said, leaning in close to the Denonite with an amused grin, enjoying the game of playing alias. It almost felt as if she was doing spy work. Did Cassian Abrantes ever do the same during his time in the defense forces? PRetend to be someone else?, "did you live on Denon your entire life?"

Her hazel eyes shone as they flicked between Dominique and the dancers, curiosity brimming now that the mask of Lyra gave her permission to ask anything, to be anyone.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique smiled even as she kept a discrete eye on their surroundings. The bartender wasn't going to try anything, but that said nothing about the patrons. She placed a hand on Sibylla's shoulder with a slight nod. No need for her to feel too bad about any faux pas, long as she picked up on the cues. Sure, she probably wouldn't be down here on her own a lot after tonight, but if she wanted to keep being Ambassador and humoring Aurelian's pursuits these skills might still be useful later.

"I didn't start in the Abyss, but I've always been here," she replied casually. "Clawed my way up as far as I have," which for Dominique was to the top. "But this," she gestured to the club, "is more recent. Started with an interest in getting closer to free-thinking types. Tight knit groups. No trust for outsiders." She laughed to herself. "Even if you can speak the lingo."

A golden eye looked over her shoulder for a second. "Was thinking of showing you the terminals, but looks like you want to give something else a try first?" Sibylla had asked about slicing, which prompted this excursion; but Dominique wasn't about to force her to follow an itinerary. If dancing caught her eye Dominique had no problem with Sibylla exploring it.

Probably best if they avoided making big purchases at a cyber parlor or tattoo artist though. Difficult to hide those. Not impossible, but doing something that out of norm might be too much on a first date with chaos.

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Sibylla's hazel eyes widened as the bartender set down their drinks, the neon glow catching the glass in her hand. Terminals.

"Oh, actually, yes the terminals that would be fun." she said, a spark of curiosity in her tone. It would be an excellent skill to pick up.

At least, until Dominique mentioned how her attention was drawn to the dancing. Sibylla looked back at the dancefloor and then shook her head. That sort of dancing was way out of her element...

Right?

"Oh, I'm not used to that kind of dancing," she admitted, glancing back at Dominique with a sheepish smile.

"I wouldn't even know where to start." Watching the way the crowd moved, fluid and certain, was mesmerizing. It was like the music told them exactly what to do with their bodies.

She raised her drink, letting the fruity sweetness touch her lips before speaking again.

"You think Aurel -- err, Rel," she quickly corrected to make a makeshift nickname for Aurelian Veruna with a grin, "you think he'd be at ease in a place like this?" The image in her mind made her laugh outright.

"Ahh, probably. He's certainly adaptable enough."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

"Rel?" Dominique regarded Sibylla with a smirk for a second. "No." Golden eyes slid back to the dance floor, her back now to the bar. "Rel would not like a place like this." A soft chuckle escaped her. "His tastes are... richer. A club like this would be too plebeian for him. And if anyone knew," she let the thought trail off. A low-life commoner club like this full of slicers and runners? If they found out Aurelian were here there would be a stampede of who managed to captured him for the ransom first. In fact, if they knew Sibylla were there a few groups might still take that risk; especially the larger criminal elements.

"As for dancing, don't think about it. You just move your body to the beat like you're the only one on the planet." Dominique wasn't particular for the style herself, but it was delightful to behold. There was only so much dropping of her guard surrounded by strangers she could bring herself to indulge on her own. The lower levels of Denon could be a rough place.

"Come on," she shoved away from the bar, drink in hand.

Dominique led the way to the back of the establishment to were several small chambers were setup to minimize the pounding music. Slicing required a good amount of concentration and some DJ getting mouthy was not what they needed to hear blasted in their ears. The short-jacketed woman with the tattoos settled into one of the seats before a holograph interface projected before it and a companion seat nearby.

"So, what do you want to see, Lyra? Is there a secret you need uncovered? A sign you want defaced? A company whose database you need crashed?" Dominique smiled over at her noble partner in crime. A learning opportunity that could accomplish an objective if she wish; or perhaps a certain kind of activity she had in mind to see how slicing worked.

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Sibylla brought the glass to her lips, then paused and, almost on instinct, dipped the tip of a painted nail into the rim. The polish glimmered faintly, giving her the tiny confirmation she trusted. If Dominique noticed, Sibylla only smiled and murmured:

"I take precautions wherever I go."

The admission was playful, and when Dominique agreed that Aurelian would likely be hopeless in a place like this, Sibylla's grin widened. The image of him at ease among neon and chrome made her laugh. Would it be too plebeian for him? Perhaps. That was something to tease him about later.

When Dominique teased her about dancing, Sibylla arched a brow.

"Move my body to the beat like I'm the only one on the planet?" The idea felt scandalous and deliciously free.

But that was to be left for another time, as Dominique led them into a smaller, more intimate chamber. Unable to help herself, Sibylla wandered the edge of the holographic interface, drink in hand, watching symbols bloom and shift beneath the light.

The options and possibilities tugged at her like a current. What secret to uncover, what mark to make, what company to crash?

Her kohl-lined eyes went wide in the glow as a thought occurred to her.

But... could it be done? She bit her lower lip, the excitement sharpening into something braver. After another steadying sip, she turned back to Dominique and slipped in beside her to sit.

"Could it be anything?" she asked quietly but intently. Then, in a more pointed tone, ""Like... make me an identity. A solid one. A complete alias, not tied to Naboo, my House, or anyone else. Someone I could slip into and hide in, if I ever wanted to."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dangerous? This entire outing was dangerous in countless ways. Dominique was putting a great deal of trust into Sibylla. Sometimes you had to take that chance to demonstrate how far you'd go for someone, and in turn expect they would do the same.

It was surprising to see just how accepting the other woman was to the entire experience as well. Dominique had just casually offered to break multiple legal statutes -- Denon or Republic -- just to show her how slicing worked. Perhaps she thought there were dummy corporations to be sliced? That it would all be a mere simulation? Was it an effort to snare the other woman as an accomplice? Not deliberately, in truth. Besides, the only ones that would ever know were one another, and they weren't telling.

Mastema's golden rings looked up at Lyra as the young woman asked if a false identity could be one of those 'demonstrations.' Rather direct, and well thought out. Something Sibylla had been desiring for a while not, but didn't know who or how to ask for it? Getting started in the Underworld was the most dangerous time.

"Yes." Dominique reached out to begin typing on the terminal. "Such things can be purchased for a price. Crafted, if you have the skills or clearance. The largest question comes down to whether you need something specific, or if just any identity will do. You'll find forgeries are a common thing in the galaxy and few governments can ever say they have a handle on it." The Confederacy of Independent Systems had once tried to implement such a system and received galactic scorn for the effort. Because, in the end, every governments relied on forgeries for their operatives to monitor friend and foe alike. "What would you need? In theory."

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Lyra's eyes went wide, shimmering with a kind of unguarded excitement that made her look younger, freer. Like an actual teenager. Her lips curved until the smile broke into the widest grin Dominique had probably ever seen on her and for once, it was entirely genuine in its display.

"One that can be as legitimate as possible," she said with eagerness.

"Where if I wanted to, it could pass inspection or review." Already her mind was racing, her thoughts turning to what such an identity might hold, what doors it could open, what freedom it could offer.

"Where someone could truly believe that would be me. Someone not tied to Naboo. To the Royal Houses. To anyone who may know me... well present company excluded." her lips twisted in a wry grin, only to bite her lower lip.

The words may have sounded strange coming from the daughter of a Royal Naboo House, once a candidate for Naboo's Sovereign and now vying for the Voice of the Royal Houses. Yet for Sibylla, beneath the mask of Lyra, it was something else entirely.

This wasn't about politics, or appearances, or duty. It was about having a choice. The selfish but undeniable desire to slip into the skin of someone else with the same clout, the same legitimacy...and none of the chains.

A way to escape.

If she ever really wanted to.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Mastema's smirk grew at Sibylla spoke. "That is the general idea, Lyra." So the woman wanted something more than a novelty to show friends. Well that was good because if Sibylla started acting stereotypically nobility now Dominique would have a problem on her hands. Well, the Republic would, really; more than it already did seeing as how Sibylla was being rambunctious.

Mastema called up a few panels and moved them about the projected interface. "Pay close attention, Lyra. Despite what you've seen in holonovels this does take a few minutes, but every step builds on the last. I won't use any pre-programmed spikes or over-engineering tools to bypass the security. Those are good on a job, but useless when it comes to learning real skill." It was unlikely Sibylla would remember a fifth of what she'd seen or how it was meant to be used, but on the job training took time. As long as she remembered some of it she'd have something to research and play with. If this all turned out to be more than a passing fancy, Dominique could help provide more educational experiences as well in time.

It did help Dominique already knew the general location of what they needed to access, but if Mastema showed Lyra all the reconnaissance work needed for a professional they'd be there all night. Besides, if you had friends in high places why not exploit their access? So, true to her word, it would only take five minutes to breach into the identification database.

"We'll make you a proper Denonite with this, Lyra. There's no better place to get lost in a crowd." Certainly less likely anyone dug too deep into such a wide pool of sentient beings. No one used Tatooine for identification -- it was a sparsely populated sandtrap. Sure, no one bothered to verify anyone's identity, but tracking down the issuer and then client didn't exactly take a Chiss strategist.

"And what is it that Lyra will be doing? Joining a pirate crew? Infiltrating a Sith coven? Promoting the Emperor's good word?" Dominique chuckled to herself at the outlandish ideas.

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Dominique Vexx ​

Sibylla's eyes widened as she watched Dominique's fingers dance over the projected interface, the glow of the terminals painting her heartshaped face in shifting hues of blue and violet, every keystroke threading into the next until the whole thing pulsed with hidden connections.

She was not blind to the fact that this was illegal. Yet Sibylla was pragmatic enough to recognize there were moments when stepping beyond the bounds of legality was necessary for the greater good. Entirely honorable? Perhaps not. But raised in House Abrantes, amid the treachery of royals and politicians alike, she understood just how far others were willing to go.

For all her pragmatism, Sibylla still meant well. She knew there were lines she would not cross, lines she could never cross. Yet there was a time to hold firm, and there was a time to bend.

And tonight, selfishly, she wanted to bend.

Her smile softened as she lifted her glass for another sip, the fruity sweetness mingling with the quiet hum of nerves in her chest. When Dominique teased her with the question of what Lyra might do, Sibylla chuckled, shaking her head lightly.

"Hmm… I cannot say with certainty," she mused, eyes drifting back to the shifting holopanels. "Perhaps it is not so much a question of what she might do, but rather the comfort of knowing she could do something. To slip unnoticed into a crowd, to vanish for a day or two, and for once not be bound by duty or expectation."

The thought slipped out before she could stop it, carrying a wistful note that hinted at truths buried far deeper than Lyra's mask as she glanced back toward Dominique with a crooked smile.

"Perhaps Lyra may finally determine for herself what she truly desires, what she wants, without another voice declaring what she ought to be." clearly, there was more to the matter there, but Sibylla .. well Lyra, asked, curiously as her gaze returned to the glowing console.

'How long did it take you to master this? I'm honestly jealous. It seems a far more practical skill than chess or fencing."