Cloud City, Bespin, Anoat Sector, Greater Javin, Outer Rim Territories
Applause waned as Gothe retreated from the stage to his penthouse room. The pearl walls became a vivid amber as the sun waned too, sequenced by long windows offering a view of the blazing cirrostratus cloud. His performance had been one of his best yet, an operatic rendition of Ani'la Akaan, but now would be the actual performance. Gothe mentally replayed the words of the Section Director as he entered his quarters:
"After the opera, you will attend a reception hosted by the Administrator of Cloud City. A local tibanna gas baron, Enrik Fel, will be in attendance. An anonymous source reported that Fel is harbouring suspicious individuals within his complex. You will establish a relationship with Fel during the reception and provide surveillance, reporting back daily. Gain his trust and infiltrate his complex. If sufficient evidence against Fel arises, contact me, and he, and any associated fugitives, will be dealt with accordingly. Do not break your cover."
His closing sentence bore the greatest potency - a reminder of the utmost secrecy that shrouded Gothe's professional life.
Gothe's temporary accommodation was located above the opera house, one of the multiple towers extended from the main building. The quarters took the form of a great rotunda of the purest white, accented by polished red granite and golden marble. It featured a 360° panoramic window and a wide oculus.
Retreating to his bed chambers, Gothe studied his datapad, skimming through the description he had received of Enrik Fel.
"Human... aged 72... born on Bonadan... owner of the Fel tibanna empire... short, hunched stature... dark-grey eyes... bald..."
"No image," Gothe thought to himself.
Discarding the datapad, Gothe changed into his evening attire. He wore a long, dark cerulean robe and adorned himself with a cape and traditional Halasian headdress. Concealing his blaster and comlink in the many folds of his garb, he made his way to the central plaza of the opera house as a distant babble drew nearer - the noise rising accordingly. Reaching the plaza, Gothe was met with hundreds of opulently dressed aristocrats, executives, and officials. He sighed. The physical description he had read earlier could easily refer to at least half of the crowd...
Applause waned as Gothe retreated from the stage to his penthouse room. The pearl walls became a vivid amber as the sun waned too, sequenced by long windows offering a view of the blazing cirrostratus cloud. His performance had been one of his best yet, an operatic rendition of Ani'la Akaan, but now would be the actual performance. Gothe mentally replayed the words of the Section Director as he entered his quarters:
"After the opera, you will attend a reception hosted by the Administrator of Cloud City. A local tibanna gas baron, Enrik Fel, will be in attendance. An anonymous source reported that Fel is harbouring suspicious individuals within his complex. You will establish a relationship with Fel during the reception and provide surveillance, reporting back daily. Gain his trust and infiltrate his complex. If sufficient evidence against Fel arises, contact me, and he, and any associated fugitives, will be dealt with accordingly. Do not break your cover."
His closing sentence bore the greatest potency - a reminder of the utmost secrecy that shrouded Gothe's professional life.
Gothe's temporary accommodation was located above the opera house, one of the multiple towers extended from the main building. The quarters took the form of a great rotunda of the purest white, accented by polished red granite and golden marble. It featured a 360° panoramic window and a wide oculus.
Retreating to his bed chambers, Gothe studied his datapad, skimming through the description he had received of Enrik Fel.
"Human... aged 72... born on Bonadan... owner of the Fel tibanna empire... short, hunched stature... dark-grey eyes... bald..."
"No image," Gothe thought to himself.
Discarding the datapad, Gothe changed into his evening attire. He wore a long, dark cerulean robe and adorned himself with a cape and traditional Halasian headdress. Concealing his blaster and comlink in the many folds of his garb, he made his way to the central plaza of the opera house as a distant babble drew nearer - the noise rising accordingly. Reaching the plaza, Gothe was met with hundreds of opulently dressed aristocrats, executives, and officials. He sighed. The physical description he had read earlier could easily refer to at least half of the crowd...
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