Calyx Sundrift
Always Swipes Right
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Z E L T R O S -- -T H E -C I R C U I T -B R E A K E R
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Lights pulsed through the fifteen levels of the gargantuan tower, each beat of the bass sending a ripple of color down its frame. Even outside, you could feel it. The low thud that shook your ribs, the glow that beckoned you closer. The doors never fully shut, spilling a constant stream of revelers into the chaos inside. Zeltron pheromones hung heavy in the air, mixing with death stick smoke. Neon vendors swarmed the streets around it, hawking glittering trinkets and glowing shots in disposable tubes.
The Circuit Breaker.
Calyx had always wanted to see it.
The place was legend, a hive of music, bodies, and criminal enterprise. Not Hutt turf. Not Black Sun. Not Pyke. Calyx knew it once belonged to the Guevian Death Gang, They had sold it off years ago, but the staff never changed. They were hard and ruthless, the kind with reputations that kept even the syndicates at bay. It was an independent domain. And the independence made the place dangerous. To Calyx? That made it irresistible.
He leaned against the promenade railing, staring out at the tide of beachgoers below. Their laughter carried on the warm and humid air, a distraction from the gnaw of his own impatience. He’d asked Ace to meet him here. A gamble, considering that they weren’t exactly close. Even so, the lad had promised to show. On behalf of the Hidden Path or some other cause Calyx had only half-listened to.
He told himself Ace would come. That he’d do tonight what he’d done the last time they’d gone clubbing. But the longer Calyx waited, the more his smile thinned. If Ace didn’t show, the Circuit Breaker would still give him a night to remember. One way or another.
Acier Moonbound