Nazoli came out of the bathroom to find larger-than-life versions of her exploits being replayed on viewscreens and holovids all over the place. With the night getting so late her train had been the turning point for the atmosphere of the club. What had been the dance floor was now an orgy floor, bodies still gyrating in time to the heavy bass beat of the music but now with additional pumping and rubbing of sensitive organs into and against one another.<br/><br/>"Ah, there you are! I was just starting to worry you'd left!" A man strode towards her, his crew cut and precise 120-paces-a-minute stride marking a militaristic background. That and the patch on the sleeve of his shirt marked him as part of the mercenary company taking up the VIP floor tonight. "Help me Ms. Drow, you're my only hope!"