He stepped down from the shuttle, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun. Yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.
She kept him still and held his beating heart with one gaze, feeding off of him. She was a succubus, beauti...
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A tanned gemstone nestled within the celestial tapestry of the galaxy's Mid Rim, Ord Mantell held court as the shining capital of the Bright Jewel system. Tucked in the northern reaches of the New Territories, the enigmatic planet danced in the shadows of the colossal gas giant Wynkahthu, its gravitational pull a silent guardian over the realm.
Ord Mantell City, the vibrant heart pulsating at the core of the cosmic enclave, beckoned with promises of grandeur and allure. From a distance, its skyline pierced the heavens with architectural splendor. Towers of glass and steel reached for the stars, casting shimmering reflections upon the azure horizon.
Yet, as one ventured closer, the façade of grandeur began to fade, revealing the city's true essence. For all its outward magnificence, Ord Mantell City bore the scars of its seedy history etched upon its streets. In its slums, dilapidated structures stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time, their once-gleaming facades now weathered by the relentless march of entropy.
In the streets below, the pulse of life beat with a rhythm all its own. The hustle and bustle of commerce echoed through narrow alleyways, mingling with the chatter of diverse tongues and the melodic strains of alien music. Amidst the throngs of inhabitants, loyal patrons flocked to their daily pastimes.
The rhythmic pulse of the club's music was abruptly shattered by the sharp crack of a blaster shot, the sudden sound slicing through the air like a knife. A cry of shock echoed after as one unsuspecting patron descended the decrepit stairway into Cid's Parlor.
Anticipation was swiftly replaced by terror as a searing blast narrowly missed her head, leaving a smoldering hole in the wall beside her. With a startled shriek, the woman stumbled backward, scrambling frantically up the stairs.
Across the room, Omega stood amidst the members of the squad, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she waved to the fleeing patron. "Sorry!"
Leaning back against the high table nearby, Talia chuckled faintly into her glass of prow at the sight of Omega's sheepish grin. Her elbow had found a comfortable perch on the smooth surface, with one foot casually resting on the foot bar.
As Omega pulled the energy bow back once more, her determination evident in the furrow of her brow, Hunter's gaze lingered on the woman beside him. The ambient glow of the neon lights cast a soft, ethereal halo around her, enhancing and softening the sharpness of her features, making her look very much like what he envisioned a siren to look like.
A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. "You sure you're even old enough to be drinking that?" he teased, his low, throaty voice laced with playful skepticism.
Talia raised a brow, her lips curling into a seductive smirk as she met his gaze, eyes alight with mischief. "Old enough to know how to have a good time," she retorted, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down his spine.
