Her clothes were still wet from the sewage water, but under her feet the ground was solid and dry. These parts of the sewers were only flooded in torrential rain, preventing the water from running up to the streets. Even though they were dry, the stench was pungent enough to pierce through the filters of her helm. She crouched for a moment and reached out a hand, touching what looked like a wet footprint. She looked up, checking that there was no drip.
Did she come through here?
The assassin tagged her location on her map and scrolled ahead to see how the lay of the land would be. it split in two further down, one went up into the city, the other lead to a reserve. It would be a long drop and a cold, wet stop.
Darth Ophidia rose to her full height again and started down the corridor, quick, quiet, cautious. She was watchful. While the darkness was almost a part of her, it was also fickle. She would rather set the ambush than be ambushed herself. Such was the fault of being the predator; you had to follow in the footsteps of your prey.
She kept a thumb on the ignition of one of her sabres, but both hilts were silent and cold. She kept her presence dampened and her footsteps light and still, but even she would not assume her own invisibility. While she hunted, she was unknowing of what occurred on the surface. The signals were weak down here. No matter what happened -
She stalked her prey.