The Sensorium was (once again, for this particular occupant) reflecting the glowing opulence of an upper level in the Imperial Palace.

Mara Jade Skywalker's hair was swept up off the base of her neck and she wore a very flowy, light green dress as she leaned against a balcony railing, watching imaginary traffic sweep past her. Above, below, across, the speeders were just flashes of light.

Every so often, a servant or some nameless Imperial would wander by and she would tense, idly worried that her subconscious would prompt Stacy to bring in someone less savory. Like her former Master.

For now, though, it was just traffic and night air.

In the City, near one of Sherry's many hiding spots (safe until her parents decided to plug some kind of tracking device into her), a little girl and a little bird boy stood atop of a two-story whitewashed building. There really, logically, wasn't any reason for Sherry to be up here with him. But she knew, she just knew, that if she was down below, calling encouragement, Komali would probably never jump down.

Not that she blamed him, but as someone without wings, it was probably better that she didn't go flinging herself off of buildings. "It really isn't even that far down," she urged.

"I bet you won't even hit the ground."

And this was the part of the job that Leon knew would eventually grate on him. Meetings. They were necessary, and usually productive, but they were not his thing. Still, it was part of the job now, so as per his post on the comms, he made himself available at the Precinct. His old office belonged to Samus now, so for the time being he made himself comfortable in the fifth floor conference room.