"Watch out!" a woman yelled out to the partner laying beside her. With more force than one would expect from someone of her size, she rolled over and threw her body on top of the other woman in the bed. A few milliseconds later, the telltale crashing noise of shattered glass met their ears. They didn't speak for the next few moments, only held their breaths while they waited for the danger to pass.
The sounds of war beyond the lush apartment building again resumed, a constant but distant roaring noise like a far-off thunderstorm. The familiar cacophony was almost reassuring after what they had just heard only minutes before. Some sort of projectile, maybe a propelled rocket or a large ordinance had detonated in a nearby tower. Whatever it had been, the resulting explosion had been forceful and intense, a powerful shockwave had flung out in every direction in the vicinity. The building the missile had struck was one of many within the residential zone, likely killing whatever unlucky civilians who hadn't yet managed to abandon their homes. Chances were low that it had hits intended target but the message it had sent was clear: nobody was safe in the Galactic City on Coruscant.
"Are you okay?" the woman on top of the other asked, her voice was unusually calm given the circumstances.
The other woman only nodded in affirmation, still unable to catch her voice after the tumultuous experience. Her heart was beating rapidly against her breastbone. The other woman could feel it beating against her own, a rapid rhythmic thumping that gave away the fear that her face was trying to hide.
At a casual glance, the pair of women looked to be of the same species. Their rich, blue skintone made it hard to distinguish one body from the other while they were so closely intertwined. They were both of a similar build and body frame: small in height but not overly short, lithe muscles toned for flexibility and fluid movement, long legs that granted agility and speed. But the differences were more apparent in their faces.
Where the Chiss had messy strands of dark, midnight blue hair hanging in her eyes, the companion below her had instead a pair of bald lekku. The lekku were adorned with intricate purple patterns that broke up the otherwise solid blue appearance. The Twi'lek also wore an unnecessary amount of make-up that emphasised her pouty, pinkish lips and highlighed her mesmerising, dark-green eyes. The Chiss only stared at her with her unblinking, pupil-less eyes that nearly glowed in the darkness, the red eyes were a unique feature that set her race apart from others. She had no need to draw further attention to her much more plain, blue facial features.
"That was..unsettling. My window is ruined!" the Twi'lek complained with an exasperated sigh. The Chiss finally moved off of her and gingerly began to brush away any stray shards of glass that had landed upon them. "I knew I should have left when the fighting started."
"Hindsight will make you blind," the Chiss said with the slight hint of a smirk on her face. She wasn't about to let anyone get away with an "I told you so". Carefully, she placed her barefeet on the floor and began to half-hazardly fashion one of the bedsheets around her body. The now-exposed Twi'lek began to make a disappointing noise but stopped when she realised the full extent of the damage done to her flat.
"You saved me," she said slyly, knowing the comment would irritate her friend rather than flatter her.
"Only because you are more valuable to me alive than dead," came the Chiss' dismissive retort. "And anyway, you've been a good host to me these last few days. Taking care of me in more ways than one," she smiled. With that, she got up and began to delicately make her way over to where the window frame opened up on to a small, decorative balcony. The plants on the balcony looked malnourished and scorched but the Chiss doubted their condition was due to the explosion.
With her back turned, the Twi'lek was able to make out the small cuts and scratches where pieces of glass had left their mark in the Chiss' back muscles. She could see small streams of darkened blood seeping slowly out of the fresh wounds. The Chiss didn't seem to notice, she was pre-occupied with looking downwards, making sure that the building they were in was still structurally sound. When she was satisfied, she then looked upwards at the blood-red sky and was taken aback by the unusual display.
The Twi'lek could see it too, though not as clearly from the safety of her bed. She didn't feel brave enough to tip-toe around the broken window pane to get a closer look, however. The sun was setting on that particular section of the city-world. From the sky, several meteors could be seen falling aimlessly towards the vulnerable buildings below. She had momentarily forgotten about her friend's injuries, being completely enthralled by the sight.
"It's beautiful," the Chiss said quietly, echoing the other woman's thoughts. "But what is it..oh look! There are ships fighting in orbit, no, in the atmosphere. More like falling apart, actually. The meteors are just left-over pieces of ship debris. That..can't be good."
"I don't think you should stand so close to the window, Móirín, some of those pieces are quite large," the Twi'lek warned her cautiously.
"Relax, what are the odds of..oh wow, those ships are massive," Móirín said as she pointed to the colliding shapes of a Republic warship and an Imperial destroyer. The resulting explosion was spectacular and the rate of raining debris began to increase exponentially. The Chiss' eyes widened in horror and without much forethought, she lept back towards the bed and grabbed her friend by the wrist. With one smooth movement, she was able to haul her up out of the bed, "Where's the safest room in this place, Pris?"
"Um, the bathroom downstairs, I think. It's the only room completely surrounded by interior walls."
"Come on," she dragged the Twi'lek behind her as she made her way down the overly decorative, but not especially practical, staircase at the end of the room. They could hear large chunks of debris striking and impacting their building, both the floor below and the ceiling above shook violently while they got to safety. The Twi'lek locked the bathroom door once they were securely inside, though it seemed like an unnecessary precaution.
"Good thinking, Priscilla," Móirín gave one of her rare compliments. They could still hear the bombardment going on around them but the shape of the walls where they had taken refuge provided maximum stability.
"I have my moments," Priscilla said as she caught her breath. She pulled on a silken bathrobe and began to search for a first aid kit among the various cabinets.
Móirín took in the new surroundings and was impressed by the high degree of luxury that the other woman required in her life. There was a grand spa tucked into one corner of the room, lined with precious Alderaanian stone. Multiple mirrors occupied every available amount of wall space and the decorative plants were all fakes. The wardrobe beside the spa was bigger than most living spaces Móirín had ever owned. She could certainly appreciate Priscilla's successful career once she could see all of the tangible rewards that came with it.
The Twi'lek found what she was looking for at the bottom of a cabinet where she stashed unwanted make-up and other such products. She had always intended to discard them but most were gifts from her many fans and admirers. With the med-kit in-hand, she instructed Móirín to sit on the steps that led up to the spa so that she could tend to her wounds. Again, the Chiss was mildly surprised. The illustrious dancer knew basic first aid and wasn't afraid of cleaning and covering simple cuts and bruises. Luckily, none of the lacerations were to deep and none required any sterile stitching work. While Priscilla set to her task, Móirín idly began to fashion her dark hair into a tight, compact braid to distract herself from the tingling sensation of kolto being applied to her already cold skin.
Móirín wasn't too bothered by the injuries, but she was getting restless about her predicament. She had decided to stay with Priscilla only a few nights before the fighting had started. Initially, she just wanted information and nothing else. Priscilla was a popular dancer who performed at the more exclusive venues that were frequented by many politicians and other powerful individuals. While most patrons came to watch her exotic routines, others were being probed for corporate secrets without their knowledge. Nobody thought twice about a pretty face and Priscilla had everyone wrapped neatly around her finger.
Unfortunately, this useful talent had been seized upon and exploited by the more influential bosses within a crime syndicate known as the Exchange. They kept a close eye on their little eavesdropper, keeping tabs through bodyguards and other methods of surveillance. This didn't deter the young dancer, however, as it allowed her to live a comfortable life in one of the most expensive apartment blocks on Coruscant. She may have been perceived as a captive of the Exchangeby some but she was still free to do what she enjoyed most: dance and gossip. If she got paid well to do as she pleased, even better.
The bathroom they were hiding in was beginning to feel [i]too[/i] comfortable, it had all the amenities of any other room in the apartment and then some. Clearly it was where Priscilla spent the vast majority of her time. It was where she prepared for long, exhaustive shows. It was also the only place she could squeeze in a few precious moments of alone time away from the ever watchful eyes of the Exchange. The room was beginning to fill with the subtle but overly sterile scent of the seaweed known as kolto, the universal healing product that even a casual medic could use effectively. The sound of the falling debris outside was starting to quiet down and, coupled with the kolto scent, Móirín was beginning to feel somewhat relaxed.
"I'm guessing your real name isn't Móirín Dominika," the Twi'lek said casually as she finished tending to her companion. Idle small talk wasn't exactly Móirín's favourite way to communicate.
"And yours isn't really Priscilla," the Chiss said matter-of-factly.
"How do you know?" Priscilla asked but Móirín gave her a dumfounded look. "Nevermind. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
"It doesn't work like that," Móirín said dryly. "Besides, I already know yours. And you couldn't say mine even if you did know it."
"Try me."
"Rael'orsi'nuruodo."
"You're just making that up. Fine, have it your way. I guess you assassin-types have to keep a few secrets."
"Never said I was an assassin."
"Well, whatever you are, I have enjoyed your company these last few nights. Even if you just want what I know, it doesn't hurt to get a little bit of extra, ah, attention out of the deal."
Móirín couldn't disagree with that. The Twi'lek dancer was beautiful and exceptionally talented. She had lured the Chiss into her home like a siren and the young, naive Móirín had been helpless to resist her enticing charm. She still hadn't managed to get what she had really been after and she knew she had to get on with things soon, before the war destroyed all of her opportunities.
"Jaleh Mael'lyn," Móirín said suddenly, snapping back to reality.
"What?"
"Do you know anything about him? Who he works for, any sort of unusual business he dabbles in?"
"You are persistent. The sky is falling around our ears and you still want what you came for," she complained but the Chiss wasn't backing down so she continued, "Jaleh Mael'lyn..sounds familiar. Dark, tawny fur, alluring violet eyes?"
"I don't know what he looks like, never met him," Móirín said with a hint of annoyance.
"He's a good sort. Always tips well. Not bad looking for a Bothan.."
"This isn't helpful, Pris."
"Don't be so impatient. Anyway, I don't know many details about the man he works for. Some investor who has a considerable chunk of shares in a new technology company. It had some ridiculous name, cutting edge stuff-"
"WonderTech?"
"Yeah, that's it. They made a lot of fancy gadgets and mods that could be added to ordinary weapons and armour. The Exchange is eager to get their hands on one of their higher-ups."
"No doubt, they make some useful items. What else do you know?"
"Jaleh's boss is also one of the few diplomats who doesn't come to my performances. Keeps to himself, like he has some secrets to hide."
"Ah, makes sense as to why he'd hire me then."
"You're after Jaleh? But he's such a sweet man.."
"Uh, no. But Mael'lyn is my contact for another target. I like to get a feel for the people who pay me."
"Who are you after?"
"I shouldn't say. I'm not even sure if the contract is still good given the current situation. My target could already be dead. Or the contact. Or the client. What's the point in doing a job if I won't be getting paid at the end of it or can't prove that I took out the mark personally?"
Móirín looked about the room for some sort of inspiration abotu what to do next. On a chair sitting beside the basin, she noticed a pile of neatly folded clothes. [i]Her[/i] clothes, judging by the eccentric embroidery work. Her prized leather boots sat under the chair and an ornate bag that contained all sorts of valuable equipment was resting against the assortment. Móirín distinctly remembered changing in the bathroom the night before but the clothes had been strung about every which way on the floor and her kit bag had been deliberately hidden at the back of the walk-in wardrobe.
"Did you do that?" she said, pointing to the items on the chair.
"No, I was with you in the bedroom all day," Priscilla said with a mixture of amusement and suspicion.
"Then who..whatever happened to your bodyguard?"
"Brono?"
Móirín was uneasy. The burly human hadn't intimidated the young Chiss but he had struck her as a bully who enjoyed the authority that his job entitled him to. He was one of the Exchange's grunt workers tasked with making sure Priscilla wasn't distracted by undesirable visitors. He hadn't much liked the blue-skinned humanoid who had greeted him with a curt word and an obvious bribe. He had taken the bribe of course but hadn't left the two women entirely alone either. His disappearance during the debris storm had almost gone undetected, both Móirín and Priscilla were glad to be away from his watchful eye.
The Chiss walked over and fumbled through her personal belongings to make sure nothing had been stolen. The lock on her bag showed no signs of tampering but she had to be sure nothing had gone missing. One by one, she laid out each item on the floor as she took inventory. Among her small arsenal were the following: an unusual headpiece that looked like little more than a small microphone designed to be worn on the ear, a lightly modified Bothan carbine, a heavy sniper rifle broken down into its more compact components, a three-pronged stand folded up, an assortment of flashbnags and similar devices, a bundle of various tools used for hacking through terminals, and a small vibroblade hidden within a sheath that was thin enough to be worn comfortably within one of Móirín's boots. Priscilla whistled incredously at the display of items but kept whatever thoughts she had to herself.
She then proceeded to dress herself, feeling somewhat exposed for the first time during the orbital bombardment. The familiar fabrics felt reassuring against her dark blue skin and for a moment she forgot the sense of unease that had gripped her earlier. Just as she was pulling on her jacket, she thought she heard a whimpering noise coming from the wardrobe nearby. She pulled on the zipper of the jacket with one hand to disguise her hesitation but with the other she hefted the lightweight carbine into a more functionable position. Cradling the weapon with one arm, she quietly tip-toed over to where she thought the noise was coming from. With her back pressed against the wall she signalled to Priscilla to be silent just before she savagely kicked open the unlocked door.
Móirín had expected more resistance and was forced to scramble quickly to maintain her balance. She brought her weapon up to bear properly and dropped instinctly to a close-quarters fighting stance. As the door flung open, the source of the strange noise was revealed. The large form of Priscilla's bodyguard lay curled up on the floor, trembling with fear and cowardice. The Chiss almost laughed at the absurd sight, she had expected something a bit more frightening to be waiting in the shadows but there was no one else.
Before the assassin could make any inquiries of her new prey, Priscilla interjected with a scolding tone, "What are you doing in there, Brono? I thought you'd be sensible enough to get out of here." Móirín wasn't convinced that the human even knew what the word sensible meant, he seemed like he was more brute than brawn to her.
"I wanted to but the storm never let up," the man tried to explain. He nervously rubbed his scruffy chin and eyed the barrel of the weapon pointed at his chest with disgust but Móirín was determined to stand her ground.
"It's not a storm, you idiot! This entire planet has been turned into a war zone, it's nost just going to blow over in half an hour," the Chiss said with astonishment.
"Can you stop pointing that at me?" the man asked nervously.
"No. Tell us what you're doing here and maybe, maybe we'll think about letting you live to see the debris falling from the sky," Móirín continued to chide him.
"You don't have to threaten him," Priscilla protested.
"Clearly your bodyguard fails at protecting you, my lady. Perhaps you would be better served by one who is actually holding a gun right now?"
The Twi'lek didn't disagree but the human was beginning to panic, "You wouldn't shoot an unarmed man just looking for a safe place to hide would you?"
"Wouldn't I?" Móirín stared him with her unblinking red eyes, her voice was nearly a whisper and her finger audibly clinched the carbine's trigger mechanism. The man flinched but the Chiss had deliberately not removed the safety setting.
"Go on, get out of here, and never come back!" Priscilla yelled at the man as Móirín lowered her weapon. He didn't hesitate as he ran out of the room. The Chiss was slightly annoyed by her companion's sudden decision but she didn't see the point in traumatising the bodyguard further. There certainly was no point in allowing the human to remain with them. No way could she be convinced to trust a man who would rather hide in a linen closet than fulfill his duty.
"Now that that that little sideshow is dealt with, we should focus on the main event," Móirín said with dramatic flair while holstering her carbine in its place against her hip and right thigh. She placed the vibroblade in her left boot and began to put the rest of the items on the floor back into her kit bag.
"What?"
"You have a holovid display set around here, right?"
"Yeah, but we'll only get emergency transmissions during a crisis like this. I'm not sure how useful that's going to be for.. whatever it is you need it for."
"It'll be plenty useful when I'm done with it."
"Is now really the time to be messing around? We should get out of here before the building collapses."
"We need to find out what's going on out there. Stick with me if you want danger and excitement. Or don't. The altenative is probably less than pleasant," the Chiss said with a sardonic grin. The Twi'lek dancer wasn't going to be a useful sidekick if it came down to a fight but she was someone worth getting to safety. Móirín wasn't going to be too broken up about it if she didn't have to escort the other woman around, however.
Priscilla simply nodded in agreement, choosing the better of her two options. She wasn't too thrilled with letting an assassin watch over her, even if she was pleasing to look at.