Franco Marz lay dead upon his Harsweean rug. There was no blood. No sign of a struggle.
His wound was cauterised, to be sure. But its precision was a work of art. A single point of entry, at the base of the spine, and running up its length before grazing the cerebellum. He knew paralysis for less time than it took to register, before the plasma of the lightsaber had snuffed out his life.
The only other sign that anyone had been present was the presence an empty decanter, and two rings of condensation with conspicuously missing wine glasses.
╞═─ ✦ ── ◈ ── ✦ ─═╡
Virgillia was home to many pleasantries. None of them were worthy Indra's time. Instead, she sad with legs crossed, on a cane chair outside one of many eateries alongside the capitol's gentrified wharf district.
It was a place for upmarket shopping, overpriced cabinet food, and holo-influencer meet-and-greets. It was for the latter that Indra was here today. Her second job on the planet, and not entirely unconnected from her first.
No, she was not here for some fan experience. Sithspit, no. She was here to ensure said influencer left in a coffin. The pay was healthy. Something about the influencer being of common birth, and yet courting a Coruscanti noblemen's only child. Accidents...were bound...to happen. But first, Indra needed information.
"Where the hell is she?"
She had let the influencer express this exasperation three times already, and only now did Indra stand and beckon with a delicate wave of her fingers.
"Over here, Mister Dankemem," she said, professional smile and warm eyes meeting his frazzled gaze.
"Fark it all, where the hell have you been," spat the influencer.
"Simply observing your contingent to assure myself that your security detail would keep me safe," she said, faking offense.
Dankemem looked her over. He was clearly satisfied with the flattering cut of her dress, though she did not take his appraisal as lecherous, at least not yet.
"Yes, yes, yes...you are most safe."
"Forgive me, after what happened with your last manager...I cannot be too cautious," she said, walking to his side as their march towards their destination commenced.
The colour drained from Dankemem's face. Indra patted him on his arm.
"Were you close?"
"He was my manager from before I got big," he said, stuttering nervously,
"are you sure we should be out in the open?"
"Mister Dankemem, I read the same report as you. It is almost certain that Mister Marz alone was the target. You are perfectly safe. And I will see you are well cared for..."
