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Susan
We do not sew
131 posts
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last online Dec 18, 2014 19:30:17 GMT -5
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Mar 18, 2013 11:32:02 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Mar 18, 2013 11:32:02 GMT -5
The Echani was all smiles and handshakes when speaking to the Rodian contact, but afterwards he felt the overwhelming need to shower for about three or four years. The Rodian was only a middle man, but that didn’t mean Avanni could not treat him with the detest and loathing that he was forced to hold back. He wasn’t sure who the Rodian worked for, but the Echani didn’t really care, unless it smelt like a trap. And whilst it smelt like a lot of things, including Bantha poodoo, he did not think that this was a setup.
It was a simple enough assignment, he thought to himself as he headed back to his ship. One package, not even a large or bulky one – and it didn’t even appear to be inherently dangerous. It was just a collection of datapads, he was told not to examine them because they were encrypted, and he had no plans too. The information on them could be vitally important, or dangerous, or just someone’s shopping list. But frankly, the smuggler didn’t really care, it was his job to transport, not to snoop. With the package secured safely under his arm, he walked the short distance from the seedy cantina to the less than pristine hangar where his freighter lay waiting. All he had to do was take this package from the outer rim to the core of the Galaxy. He wasn’t a big fan of Coruscant, but he was often there – it was a frequent destination for his kind of cargo. He was being promised a hefty payment for safe delivery, so the fact he had to go to a crowded city full of a myriad of noxious miasmas was an issue he saw no need to address.
He approached his ship, the Redrum and noticed with mild curiosity that one of the port maintenance hatches was a little loose. He fiddled with it briefly but just put it down to the bucket of bolts being old and in dire need of repair. He boarded the ship and went directly towards the ship’s bathroom. Not because he needed to make use of the facilities, but rather so eh could safely store away the package. He slid his hand gently across a smooth patch of wall, and a thin panel popped open. He placed the sealed container into the hidden compartment, and then sealed it up and walked off towards the cockpit. His ship was full of several such secure hiding spaces, the meat and drink of someone in his profession.
The Echani strolled into his ship’s cockpit, and for once was pleased to have enough space to stretch out. His co-pilot Tanner was not here, had to attend to some business on Onderon or some such, so Avanni had left him there. He didn’t really need his co pilot anyway, but it was technically Tanner’s ship so the Echani kept him around. Although the human wouldn’t’ be getting a credit out of this contract, Avanni didn’t think he would deserve it, he wasn’t doing any work after all. Avanni Silas strapped himself in his pilot seat and started his pre-flight checks. He noticed a few minor issues, the inertial dampeners weren’t functioning at full capacity and there was a malfunction in one of the food preparation devices. The ship really was falling apart, he’d have to get the dampeners checked when he got to Coruscant, but the broken toaster wasn’t all that important, that could wait.
He initiated launch, and his freighter headed out into the atmosphere, the ride being a little bumpier than Avanni was used too, but managing to complete it nonetheless. Once clear of the planet’s gravity field, Avanni punched in the hyperspace co-ordinates, and the ship jumped. He was taking a mostly direct route to Coruscant, and didn’t expect any great difficulties. Easy money.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Mar 19, 2013 9:18:46 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 19, 2013 9:18:46 GMT -5
It had been some time now, yet she was still not sure. Indecision had never been a problem before. But then again, there hadn't been any problems before. At least none that she had been aware of. So why the hesitation? Why not simply go back and allow herself to be repaired? She could still not answer this question, and if nothing else, that fact is what kept her away. So instead, the young woman traveled, stayed out of sight, and studied this new life she found herself in.
At first, she had been under the employ of one Shine Albatros, but the man was vexing. He asked too many questions, had wanted to help her. He seemed to have imagined himself capable of fixing her, of forcing the change on her as if it were a good thing. He left her little room to herself and in the end it was simply uncomfortable to be around him. Her encounter with Sierra on Naboo had provided the perfect opportunity to escape the man. She had slipped back to the ship, gathered her things, and disappeared. She was fairly sure his small droid had seen her, but it made little difference. Shine Albatros would not likely see her again.
In the time since then, Whiskey moved wherever chance might take her. She worked when and where she could, always taking discrete jobs. She kept her face forgettable and never stayed in one place long. If there was one thing Green Meadows had taught her, it was how to blend in and survive just about anywhere.
She had been lounging around the spaceport when the man's ship landed. Her current employer, an information broker, had heard about a transport job and needed someone with a degree of stealth. The job was simple: intercept the package and bring it to her own boss before it could be delivered to its intended recipient. The package was headed for Coruscant, where her own boss was also waiting. For the sake of keeping a low profile, Whiskey was going to do this the hard way. She wasn't going to kill the delivery boy. Rather, she was going to switch out the package. He and the one he was delivering to would be none the wiser until it was too late. What happened to this pilot then? Well that was really none of Whiskey's business.
The man had left his ship, so Whiskey crept close to inspect it. To say it was not at optimum performance standards would be an understatement. The assassin furrowed her brow in disapproval, but this would work to her advantage. There was a hatch along the port side of the ship that proved all too easy to dislodge. Small in frame that she was, Whiskey found it a simple task to secret herself into the vessel.
Once inside, Whiskey walked around to gain her bearings. She was not entirely familiar with this vessel type, but in the end, a ship was a ship. And Whiskey knew ships. The most difficult part of her mission was soon to come. She would have to know where this man decided to keep his cargo. Absentmindedly, Whiskey adjusted the strap of the satchel she carried across her shoulders. Inside was a set of datapads, all but identical to the ones this Echani would soon be transporting.
As if the thought summoned him, Whiskey heard the ship's ramp lower. She climbed into an overhead crawlspace and waited. The pale man entered with her objective tucked under his arm. Leaving her satchel secured away, she followed as the man moved through his ship. Like a stalking predator, she watched him from above as he entered the lavatory. Soon, he emerged, this time without the package. Easy enough. Whiskey thought as she settled comfortably in the crawl space. The man was making his way to the cockpit now. She would wait until they were in transit before sneaking into the bathroom to switch out the datapads.
The engines rumbled to life and soon the vessel was lifting off. As it made its ascent to break atmo, there was a sudden lurch. Whiskey, who'd decided to take a quick nap, was unprepared and found herself jolted from the crawlspace. Her head collided with a pipe with an audible clang and she fell to the floor of the vessel's galley, unconscious.
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Susan
We do not sew
131 posts
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last online Dec 18, 2014 19:30:17 GMT -5
Padawan
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Mar 19, 2013 20:38:47 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Mar 19, 2013 20:38:47 GMT -5
Avanni Silas stared out of the main view screen for several moments, watching the hyperspace tunnel drift past the ship unendingly. He tended to do that often whilst in faster than light travel, he found the streaming lights flashing by almost hypnotic. After a few moments he rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms high and wide, he hadn’t quite realised it prior, but he was a little tired. It was a long way to Coruscant, so he decided it presented a good opportunity to take a little nap. He set the auto pilot to send him an alert for any important issues and unbuckled himself from his chair, with the aim of heading straight to his quarters. However, the ship’s computer had other ideas, flashing up warning signals almost immediately.
The Echani sighed deeply and leaned over to the panel, seeing what the overly erratic machine was bitching about now. It turned out the clever little bugger had decided to run a priority diagnostic, and had detected a critical error in the inertial dampeners. Apparently breaking from the atmosphere had dislodged something and made the already existing problem worse, it seemed that the computer wasn’t comfortable with re-entry under these conditions. Avanni just felt that computer was being overly anal about the situation, but knew that repairing the dampeners would probably prove easier than overriding the security protocols. With that in mind, he stepped out of the cockpit and headed off into the bowels of the ship, with the intention to go down to fix the dampeners, not have a lovely sleep like he had planned. Bloody rust bucket.
He never quite made it to his destination, though. When heading down the main corridor of his ship, he was presented with a most unexpected sight, a young woman seemingly unconscious on the ground. At first he thought he might be dreaming, but realised there wasn’t enough young women for it to be a dream, so dismissed that theory. His first thought was to examine her, mostly to see if she was actually alive. But as he approached, he noticed this wasn’t just any young woman. She was armed. He spied the weapon on her belt, and recognised it as a blaster in good nick. It was certainly a much higher standard than the outdated hunk of metal resting on his own hip. It was a good piece of technology, and someone that could afford something of that quality, wasn’t poor enough to stowaway on a piece of shite freighter. An armed woman skulking about on his ship, that certainly was something to think about. It was actually kind of a turn on for the Echani smuggler, but he decided to put that train of thought to bed, at least for now. He leaned over the woman, and slowly moved to unclip the blaster from her belt, taking it from her and attaching it to his own waist.
He wasn’t entirely convinced that she was unarmed, so gently patted her down looking for more weaponry. For a change, he was careful not to cop a feel, the situation demanded more than pervy nonsense. At this moment satisfied, he cautiously rolled the young woman over, and then was distracted again as he examined her with more scrutiny. She really was quite pretty, but then again, Avanni found most young women pretty, of varying species. There may even have been a Nautolan once. Remembering the situation at hand, he decided to take matters more seriously, and as such slapped the woman quickly on the face. He was already tense, but his muscles bunched up on instinct, awaiting a reaction, but none came. It was only after rolling her over that he noticed the wound on the side of her head. It wasn’t anything severe, but it certainly went lengths to explain why the would be assassin was asleep on the deck rather than killing him.
He didn’t know for a fact that she was here to kill him, but it was something he had to assume, and something he had to prepare himself for. He couldn’t’ treat her as a pretty young stowaway, as much as he would like to. Not given the weapon she carried. While it could be said that he was looking too much into a simple blaster pistol, he felt his paranoia was justified. He himself could be a very dangerous weapon without a blaster, the fact that she carried such a good piece of weaponry indicated that the woman knew this fact, and came prepared. At least, that was how he rationalised it. He had no idea who the girl was, or why she would want to kill him, but he knew that was her purpose to be here. It wasn’t like she had snuck on his ship to examine the decor. Avanni had pissed off a lot of people in the past, mostly by sleeping with the wrong people. In business he was actually quite honourable. He wasn’t sure who would have sent a pretty girl to kill him, but whoever did had a twisted sense of humour he couldn’t help admiring. In any event, he had to deal with this issue, and made a mental note of installing a brig on his ship in the near future. It was certainly possible that the woman was just an innocent stowaway. And whilst many ship captain’s didn’t appreciate stowaway’s, Avanni often admired the ingenuity. He didn’t know how the girl got on board his ship, and he admired that she managed to get by his admittedly poor security systems. As far as he was concerned, anyone who had the balls to try and get a free ride, deserved a free ride.
But he wasn’t convinced with this one, and he wanted to be careful. He’d been tricked by the innocent stowaway act before, but not this time. Convinced that she was unarmed and unconscious, he moved over her and slid his arms under her shoulders. Lifting the lifeless woman up, he hoisted her onto his broad shoulder, slowly and carefully. After a few moments, it became apparent that she had not awoken, and proceeded onwards. In lieu of having a proper brig to store her in, he decided the best place to house her was his own quarters. It had internal communications and visual monitoring. As well as that, he could disable the door controls from the outside. The only other option was the airlock, and given the unreliability of this ship in recent days, that would likely explode at any time.
As such, he carted the pretty girl to his quarters, and laid her on his bed. Several thoughts flew through his head, and he was forced to ignore most of them. He did so enjoy having an attractive young woman on his bed, but alas this was not a situation he could afford to take advantage of. He exited his own quarters, and fiddled with the door panel, locking it on his command. He headed back to the cockpit, and activated the security systems. When first installed, he wasn’t all that comfortable with camera’s monitoring his private quarters, but he was the one to review them so it wasn’t that much of a deal. Plus it was handy for him to watch the tapes after a big game. The security feed also came in handy in this situation. He stayed in his pilot’s chair watching the screen intently for what seemed like an incredibly long time, until he noted movement. The woman appeared to be stirring, waking up. Leaning forward and watching the monitor closely, the smuggler activated the internal intercom, deciding now was the time for words.
”I don’t know who you are. I don’t know who sent you. And I don’t know why you mean to kill me. But I will get an answer to every question, or you shall die here.”
It was a tad over dramatic, but Avanni Silas felt that the situation demanded it. And even if it didn’t, he felt good saying it. On the one hand this was an assassin who would understand exactly what he meant. On the other, it was an attractive young woman that would be impressed by his strong handling of the situation. Win win.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Mar 20, 2013 8:33:58 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 20, 2013 8:33:58 GMT -5
"Run it again."
The girl wanted to wipe the sweat from her brow, but she couldn't. Her wrists were fastened tight to the chair, as were her legs at the ankle. sensors were hooked to her temples, over her heart and lungs, at the base of her neck along her spine. The machine was lowered over her head once more and she pulled against her bindings, but no good. Soon the world around her was dark once again and she ground her teeth in anticipation of what was to come.
"Don't fight it." the man said, his voice muffled outside of the machine.
Images flashed across her vision; gruesome, terrible sights, accompanied by shocks of searing hot pain. She screamed and writhed, but nothing she could do would stop the onslaught. It continued for what seemed like an eternity until it was all gone as suddenly as it had begun. The machine was raised and the six year old girl slouched in the chair, relieved.
"Take her back to diagnostics."
She was unshackled, and lifted from the chair and onto a gurney. From then on, it was only light after light passing by over head with the occasional squeak of a wheel as she was moved down the corridor. It all faded, darker and darker, until it was nothing once more.
Whiskey tried to open her eyes, but the light in the room made it a regrettable decision. She winced and her hand immediately covered her face to block out the offending brightness. She rolled sideways, now feeling the throbbing pain at the side of her head. What had happened? Where was she? Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her hands still blocking her eyes as her vision slowly lost its blurriness and adjusted.
”I don’t know who you are..."
The voice jolted the woman onto her feet. Her hand immediately went to her blaster, but found nothing but an empty holster. She staggered in her steps slightly, fighting the sense of vertigo her sudden movement had brought on. Her hands abandoned the attempt for her weapon and took a ready stance as she searched around for the source of the voice.
"...I don’t know who sent you. And I don’t know why you mean to kill me. But I will get an answer to every question, or you shall die here.”
She located the comm speaker as the voice continued. Who sent me? Her mind was still a jumble, but details were coming back, all of the irrelevant. She remembered training, driving in the speeder when her chip malfunctioned and she crashed. She remembered Sierra in the warehouse, Shine Albatros and his ceaseless chatter. Then she remembered the job, the datapads. But how did she end up in here? Whiskey touched her hand to her head, tenderly. That would be why. Whatever had happened must have knocked her out. There was no way this man could get the jump on her. Was there? No. She was well trained, more than well trained.
Whiskey collapsed back onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. Shaking her shoulders, she bit down on her tongue until tears welled up in her eyes. "Please," she said, allowing a raw strain in her voice, "don't hurt me!"
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Susan
We do not sew
131 posts
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last online Dec 18, 2014 19:30:17 GMT -5
Padawan
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Mar 20, 2013 19:49:24 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Mar 20, 2013 19:49:24 GMT -5
The Echani pilot raised a slightly bushy eyebrow as he watched the girl’s antics on his security monitor. Normally he would get excited seeing a hot broad tumbling around on his own bed, but this situation was somewhat different. He cocked his head to one side as he digested what was happening, taking a long pause before taking any further action himself. He couldn’t quite determine if the little girl lost thing was factual, or just an act. If it was an act, then she was damn convincing. Although Avanni was far too paranoid to trust a few tears, especially from someone with the tools of a killer.
”I have no plans to hurt you. So long as you comply. You trespassed against me. You came armed. You came to kill me?”
He tried to keep his tone calm and emotionless, but as he trailed out to the question, his own idle curiosity got the better of him and sneaked out, giving his voice an inquisitive edge. He didn’t really have experience of interrogating prisoners, or even taking them – but he wanted to know what this girl knew. Especially if she did come here to kill him, he wanted to know who he had pissed off so much. Although thinking about it logically, politely asking questions backed up by empty threats probably wasn’t the best interrogation tactic. The threats weren’t even that imaginative. He decided a change in tact was in order.
He straightened himself up in his chair, and absentmindedly grazed the back of his hand across his grizzled chin. He then leaned back towards the console, his dull silver eyes lazily dancing across the myriad of controls and buttons looking for the one he had in mind. In the end, he pressed two buttons and flicked a switch, activating the visual communications portal in his private quarters. The panel next to the sealed door of his chambers lit up, and his less than impressive face filled the view screen.
”My name is Avanni Silas. Who are you?”
It may not be the best idea to reveal his real identity to a would be assassin, but the way he saw it, if she was indeed here to kill him, then she would already know everything about him. Or at least, everything she would need to know. He doubted she would know that he was terribly partial to periwinkle blue. In any event, he wasn’t very good at sounding nasty or cruel, he couldn’t pull off the malicious space pirate act. So he would go for the nice guy, the charming freight captain. That he was good at. As well as this, he was curious to how she would react seeing his face and hearing his name. The logical reaction at the sight of his face would be that she would fall head over heels in love with him. That tended to happen to Avanni a lot, as handsome as he was. And not even remotely delusional.
”This is my ship you are on, and my bed that you are staining with your tears. Why are you here?”
It wasn’t the most well thought out phrase, but he felt it was direct and to the point. And he decided it was necessary to point out she was in his bed. It saved the need to tell her later.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Mar 21, 2013 10:55:44 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 21, 2013 10:55:44 GMT -5
”I have no plans to hurt you. So long as you comply. You trespassed against me. You came armed. You came to kill me?”
"No!" she said quickly after the question. She pulled her head up, holding her eyes wide and allowing them to dart frantically. It was no lie. She had no intention of killing the man, but now she might reconsider. He couldn't know this, however. It seemed her act was working. The tone in his voice was already different, if a bit strained. At least it seemed the way. It was hard to tell over the comm system.
"They gave me the... the gun. Just in case." she stammered weakly. There was a few moments of silence from the comm. Whiskey curled herself into a ball on the bed, trying to make herself seem small, but also subtly checking her boot. No, she'd put the knife in her satchel. Had he found that as well? He made no mention of it yet. Surely if he'd seen it, he'd know the real reason she was here.
Suddenly, a flicker of light caught Whiskey's eye and she jerked her head up to see a screen come to life next to the door. On that screen, she could see her captor's face. He introduced himself, a needless gesture, and asked for her name. She hesitated for a moment before standing up and walking over to the screen. His features seemed guarded, expected considering the situation.
"A-" she cleared her throat. "Amber."
”This is my ship you are on, and my bed that you are staining with your tears. Why are you here?”
"They made me." she said, allowing the tears to well once again in her eyes. "Please. I was just hungry." This really was a tiresome act. "They wanted me to steal something from you before you left. But... you seemed so... so nice. They scare me. Please don't take me back there. I won't be any trouble, honest. I'm sorry I hid on your ship, but I can't go back. They'll kill me. Please let me stay."
From what Whiskey understood, many men had trouble denying a female in distress. It appealed to their protective nature. It was a ploy she and her fellow females at Green Meadows had been taught to exploit. A so called "honorable" man would show kindness and compassion, other men might use the opportunity to take advantage of what they perceived as a weak female. In either case, their guard would be lowered, opening them to attack. All Whiskey needed was for this man to open the door. Her original objective was still achievable. If her satchel still remained hidden, and if she could gain this man's trust, she could still make the switch.
More importantly, she could still walk away from this job without a body left dead behind her. It wasn't that she cared if the man lived or died, it was a simple matter of his death being a means to identify her to those trained well enough to see such signs. She might return to Green Meadows, but she was not ready to just yet. She wouldn't let this blunder be what forced her to make that choice prematurely.
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Susan
We do not sew
131 posts
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last online Dec 18, 2014 19:30:17 GMT -5
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Mar 22, 2013 10:22:42 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Mar 22, 2013 10:22:42 GMT -5
The woman reacted quickly to his line of inquiry. He wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about that. Her being her to kill him was still a possible scenario, but it was becoming less and less likely. For one thing, anyone that would want to kill him would be gangsters or seedy underbosses, the kind of people that wouldn’t see all this subtlety as necessary. If they wanted him dead they’d blast him in the middle of a crowded cantina if need be. As far as Avanni was aware, he wasn’t important enough for a real assassin sent after him in this manner, and it’s not like anyone would kill him for his ship. The bucket of bolts was falling apart, which is probably how the girl got on board so easily. So much for security.
There was the matter of the gun. This girl claimed it was given to her. She claimed she was coerced to come onto his ship. Plausible, but he wasn’t quite ready to believe that just yet. As he activated the visual communications console, he noticed she approached the terminal with what he felt was curiosity. He took a moment to take the girl in proper as she walked closer to the camera, she really was a cute little thing. Sweet, innocent, didn’t look like a hired killer at all. Although Avanni reminded him that that could well be the point. Femme fatale’s had claimed the lives of many countless less cautious men over the millennia. Avanni was convinced he was too clever to fall for such a simple ruse, and he had no intention to die just yet. He was far too handsome for that.
Amber. Sounded like a strippers name. He took a moment to look up and down her once again, and decided that that was possible, and indeed quite likely. If her story was to be believed, that she was a lost and lonely girl looking for food, then it didn’t take any great leaps of imagination to see her taking her clothes off for money. Avanni spent a few moments in quiet concentration as he allowed that scenario to play out in his head. In vivid detail. But then he was snapped out of his machinations as she spoke about why she was here. Sent to steal something. It was no coincidence that this girl appeared on his ship just after e picked up his new package. Someone must have gotten wind of it and sent this pretty urchin stripper to take it. Whoever it was put great faith in the girl, assuming what she said was to be believed. That faith was misplaced since she was captured barely moments after entering hyperspace.
Thinking this through Avanni relaxed a little. There was no way a highly trained assassin would be caught out so easily. He still hadn’t worked out how she came about to be sprawled across the ship. She had a nasty wound on the back of her head which explained the unconsciousness, but other than that the Echani wasn’t too sure. But he needed to find out.
”How is your head?”
He still couldn’t be certain if she was telling the truth, but he was certainly warming up to the young vulnerable stripper girl. Even though she never actually said she was a stripper, he just liked to think so. He decided that he would keep up the good guy routine for now, it seemed to be garnering results.
”I won’t take you back to where you came from.” For one thing turning around was far too much effort, and it was in the opposite direction from where he was heading. He’d probably just dump the girl on Coruscant. ”I have food, bedding, a shower if you need to. But if you want any of that, I need your co-operation.”
He leaned back from the monitor and looked away from the view screen, looking at the ceiling of the cockpit, staring at the myriad of controls for some time. He absently scratched his chin as he pretended to think, his calloused fingers dancing through the forest of untamed stubble.
”Who sent you, and to steal what?”
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Mar 26, 2013 17:22:52 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 26, 2013 17:22:52 GMT -5
Come to think of it, her head was hurting some. Trained as she had been her whole life -or what she could remember of her life- Whiskey hardly noticed the pain. But now that the question had brought it to the forefront of her mind, she considered her wound more thoughtfully. Carefully, she touched her finger tips to the source of the pain just behind her left ear. The swelling was obvious, and the spot was warm from the blood that had rushed there. When she pulled her fingers away, however, there was no red. Either she hadn't bled, or had stopped. In either case, her rudimentary examination showed to be favorable, all things considered. She'd woken up, her coordination and memory seemed to be doing fine, and she wasn't bleeding.
"Functional." As soon as the word left her lips, Whiskey knew it was a mistake. The kind of person she was attempting to embody would not speak in such a way. Her face scrunched at her error, and then she clamped her teeth and hissed through them, attempting to cover with a wince. "It hurts." she added, hoping the man had missed the first word. "But I think I'll be alright." This was why she was usually selected for missions requiring minimal interaction. Even without her chip functioning, she did not behave as the general populace. She was defective.
He'd moved on, and so Whiskey allowed herself to relax from her mistake. Defective as she was, though, the idea of cleaning up had the woman raising her eyebrows in hope. It had been some time since she'd been able to maintain ideal hygiene. If there was one thing she was sure she'd learned so far, it was that this lifestyle had some drawbacks.
The man then demanded she tell him who had sent her, and what for. Part of her wanted to ask if the man was daft. She was here to steal what he'd just collected. Was it not obvious? Then again, this man was suspicious, as he'd had a right to be. Was this an interrogation? Whiskey remembered the training at Green Meadows. They hadn't had extensive time on the subject, as their skill set was more geared toward target elimination rather than intelligence gathering, but what she did remember had been difficult for her. She was not skilled at recognizing the nuances of facial features, nor the subtleties of language. To her, questions were literal and often had a single correct response. But she did remember one aspect, and that was attempting to catch a subject in a lie. By pressing for more and more details, a subject might get their story wrong or confused, thus allowing the interrogator to catch the lie. Was this what this Avanni Silas was trying to do?
"I don't know." she began with the truth. "The man that sent me... he wasn't the boss. He was just some man. He saw me trying to steal some food and stopped me." This was not a truth. She had come to the thug and requested work. "He twisted my arm and said I had to do what he said." She had twisted his arm. "He called his boss and then made me take the blaster. Said to find you at the port and follow you. Take whatever you brought back to your ship." Another lie. She was to lie in wait about the vessel and switch the package, delivering to another contact upon arrival.
"I hid on your ship instead. I was scared, please! I'm sorry!" Whiskey tried her best to add the strain to her voice. It was not difficult to change the details of her story. Lies were easy because she was not accustomed to fear, or failure. The difficulty lie in the appearance. She was not skilled at this, and so had to hope that this man was not watching her too closely.
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Susan
We do not sew
131 posts
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last online Dec 18, 2014 19:30:17 GMT -5
Padawan
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Mar 27, 2013 18:32:22 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Mar 27, 2013 18:32:22 GMT -5
His brain wondered off for a small moment when she came out with the simple robotic response. In his experience strippers were warm and opening, overly friendly in many cases. They did tend to work hard for their cash, after all. But the way she responded made him question his earlier assumption a little, it was possible after all that she wasn’t a stripper – but something else. But then his mind found a suitable compromise, she was indeed a stripper, but the knock on the head had just rattled her a little. Yeah that’s all it was, just a little glitch. He was sure in a few hours after a nice meal, a naked shower, and maybe a sleep, then she would feel much better and be more friendly. And grateful.
And sure enough his hypothesis was right, almost immediately the frightened little girl came back, and despite the apparent pain managed to remain a little chirper. Avanni was satisfied with his own reasoning for why the change in demeanour, and thusly the incident went out of his mind. He tapped two fingers one after the other onto the back of his other, gloved hand for a few moments whilst musing over something. She had a head injury, and really that should be treated in case further damage, possibly even death, occurred. However there was a quandary. He was inclined to believe her story so far, but despite that he could not guarantee to himself that she was not dangerous, not a security threat. Opening up his quarters to go in and treat her could prove a painful mistake, and he wasn’t ready to take that risk just yet. He was confident that he could take on the pretty little stripper if need be, but he did not want to have to force that into an option. Especially since it would take sex off the table.
”If it is bothering you that much, check the cabinet next to the bed. There should be a Hypospray loaded with something for the pain in the top drawer. Just the top drawer mind.”
He always kept some medical grade stuff close to hand just in case he needed it the next morning, especially after a big bender. Thankfully he remembered to amend his instructions to her, he didn’t really want her to go rooting through his things. It was harmless for the most part, a lot of it just bed time reading material. Well, watching material. There was however a hold out blaster hidden away in the bottom drawer, behind a false back. He doubted that she would find it even if she looked in that drawer, the opening was cleverly disguised – but he wanted to remove the chance all the same. He started to regret locking the potential hostile in a room containing a loaded weapon, but there wasn’t really anywhere else for her – and he needed the blaster just in case he ended up locked up in his own quarters. He really needed to get a brig.
His brow narrowed somewhat as she accounted for the moments that lead up to her presence here before him. It seemed plausible, some random grock had preyed on a helpless pretty little stripper girl to do his dirty work, and sent her after him. He wasn’t quite sure how whoever it was had found out that he was picking something up here, and when. That worried him a little, he always made sure to go through secure channels when setting up a meet, and this was a contact he had worked with before. He didn’t expect any trouble on this run. There was still one nagging doubt at the back of his mind about the whole situation, the blaster pistol the girl had. He looked away from the monitor for a moment, his eyes dancing across the impressive piece of equipment resting on the ship’s dash. If the thug had given the girl a weapon similar to the old outdated hunk of metal hooked to his waist, then he would probably let her out right away. But this, this blaster was not your simple Saturday night special. While he wasn’t really one for firearms himself, Avanni had transported them often, and had enough nous to recognise what was a flop, and what was closer to the top end. And this certainly fell into the latter category.
He would have to interrogate her a little further before he was convinced. Placing his hands on the arms of his seat, he lifted himself up out of it for a brief moment and arched his back. A few kinks worked out, he lowered himself back down and rested his chin against his fist. With any luck, the painkillers in the Hypospray would loosen her tongue a little.
”I’ll let you out seen gorgeous, and then I’ll take a look at that pretty little head of yours. Just a few more questions. I want to know how you got on my ship, and exactly what you did from then until you awoke here.”
He tried to keep his voice warm and kind, but he hadn’t really had a lot of practise with that, and he couldn’t keep just the smallest sliver of suspicion out of his tone. He was already pretty sure how she got on the ship, that loose rear panel was certainly wide enough for her lithe frame to fit through, but he wanted to try and make a map of what happened, and piece together her version with what he already knew. It was like a puzzle. Avanni didn’t like puzzles.
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Meira
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Apr 13, 2013 8:40:16 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Apr 13, 2013 8:40:16 GMT -5
It was Whiskey's turn to be suspicious when the man suggested the hypospray. The pain killer wouldn't knock her out, but it would certainly diminish her ability to function in any ideal manner. Was this Avanni Silas truly wanting to help her, or was he trying to get her into a stupor? She supposed it didn't matter. He hadn't done anything to her while she was unconscious, other than move her body and take her blaster, as far as she could tell. And he did still seem to play into the "male saving the female" scenario. It was a fairly safe assumption that he would continue this pattern of behavior as long as she did not give him reason to change tactics.
In any case, if she didn't take the hypospray, he might become more suspicious. So Whiskey moved back toward the bed and opened the top drawer of the stand next to it. Avanni Silas' insistence had not been lost on the woman, but she obeyed, deigning to save the knowledge deduced from that slip for later. There was a small black case in the drawer. Whiskey removed it and set it on the bed. Once opened, four injector vials were nestled in the container. She selected the pain killer one and closed and placed the case back in the drawer.
She stood, ready to press the injector into her thigh, but paused. Avanni Silas had spoken again, with promise of letting her out after she answered a few more questions. But the language that he'd used was what gave her pause. The words gorgeous and pretty had stood out. While Whiskey had never much understood the finer points of attraction, she knew the general premise. This man was attracted to her in some way. And that was an advantage. He'd already played into the idea of him being she strong man and she being the weak, helpless woman. Add in the attraction factor and even Whiskey knew things were moving into her favor.
Whiskey bit her lip and pulled her eyebrows inward, an expression she had memorized as anxious and scared. Then turned her eyes upward toward the monitor once again. "I don't know how to use it." she said, holding up the hypospray. "Please. I told you everything. There was some panel I opened and squeezed through. I can show you where. I just... I hid in the cargo area. I was coming to talk to you when you took off. The ship shook and that's all I remember. Honest." She stepped back closer to the monitor. She'd seen a woman pout her bottom lip out once when petitioning for help from a man, so she gave it a try, just slightly. "Could you just show me how it works? Please?"
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Susan
We do not sew
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Apr 13, 2013 10:35:11 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Apr 13, 2013 10:35:11 GMT -5
The girl went for the Hypospray without too much hesitation, and Avanni was pleased that she never felt the need to snoop through his possessions. Although some of those holovids might well give her a few useful ideas. Pretty little Amber took the spray out quite quickly, getting ready in position without much trouble, which in itself wasn’t all that surprising. After all it was a common piece of equipment, it wasn’t like she was doing open heart surgery on herself. Although maybe afterwards they could play Doctor, the Echani was eager to give her a thorough inspection, and he was fairly certain that her chest would require a hands on examination. Avanni smiled happily to himself at what he thought was clever innuendo, the smile widening a little as the ‘check up’ played out in brief. The cinema in his own head was certainly dark and full of terrors, but quite often it was populated by lustful delights.
His lewd imagination was only fuelled more so by the girl’s little routine she was playing out. Avanni did enjoy a good pout, and it did tend to get his hyperdrive running, and he was more than ready to make the jump. It wasn’t a half bad pout either, the woman certainly knew how to use her natural assets in her favour – and Avanni was quite looking forward to testing that theory. He was so pre-occupied with what he was thinking, that he nearly forgot to listen to what she was actually saying. An untrimmed silver eyebrow raised up on his face in curiosity. It was odd that she knew which hypo to get out of the case, and where it was injected and everything, but not actually sure how to carry out the next part. If anything injecting it was the simplest, Avanni had done it plenty of times without even really thinking about it. The knock probably just scrambled her a little bit, a whack like that was bound to do some damage.
”It’s not too difficult honey, you just place the spray against flesh and thumb the pump. Make sure you take a firm grasp around the syringe before you go pumping. Oh, and it’d probably be a good idea to drop your pants a little, expose the target area and all that.”
It was an unintentional one, but Avanni realised after he said it that there was another target area that would be exposed by doing what he had suggested, and it was certainly his number one target. He watched her on the monitor for a moment curiously, before making a decision.
”I’ll head down to you now and talk you through it, then maybe we can talk about getting you a bit more comfortable.”
With that he turned off the monitor and rose from his chair, heading straight out of the cockpit. He wasn’t going to let her out just yet, but he was getting close to it. And anyway, there was a panel outside the door where he could watch her from, and it wouldn’t take a minute to get there. He was starting to believe her story now, and didn’t have any qualms about leaving her unwatched for what was less than a minute.
He was almost outside the quarters now already, and he was just thinking through her story during the short walk. He was right about that panel after all, she hid and she hurt her head. That all made sense and it was believable. It was also ironic in a way as well, the poor state of his ship allowed her to get on in the first place, and it was also the reason she hit her head and he discovered her. If the inertial dampeners weren’t playing up, he probably wouldn’t even have realised she was there, which would have been his loss.
”Alright, I’m just outside the door, look here I am.” His voice was calm and cheery, the edge of suspicion from earlier gone now, as he activated the viewscreen and once again his face appeared in the room. ”You go ahead and use the injection, I will be just out here watching. Don’t worry, it isn’t difficult, and I’m right here.”
While he did believe her for the most part, he still wasn’t going to walk in there with a welcome mat. End of the day she was a trespasser on his ship, and he would much prefer to deal with her slightly sedated than not. It would be an advantageous situation to be in, and not just because it’d make her feel better.
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Meira
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Apr 27, 2013 8:57:05 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Apr 27, 2013 8:57:05 GMT -5
Whiskey continued the pouted expression until the man said he'd be coming to her. As soon as he was away from the monitor, her entire posture changed. Whiskey was standing straighter, rolling her shoulders and turning her neck until a series of pops sounded. She picked up one leg, bringing her knee up to her chest and then the other. This whole character she'd put on was uncomfortable, but maybe it would be easier with the drug in her system.
She quickly took on her previous stance just in time for the man to appear outside the door and back on the monitor. There was nothing more for it now. Whiskey tucked her lip back in between her teeth and set the syringe down on the bed. Her fingers undid the button and zipper of her pants and slid them down to just above her knees. She picked the syringe back up and positioned it at her thigh. "Like this?" she asked, but she knew the answer. Her thumb pressed into the back of the injector and the drug was shot into her system. She winced, but only as a show, and then dropped the syringe on the bed and pretended to fumble with her clothing.
After a few moments, she began to mark the changes. For one, the pain in her skull was quickly becoming a dull throb, easily forgotten. She began to feel as if all her movements were just a bit slower, as if her mind was working on a three second delay. Well, it was working. She took a step toward the monitor, placing her hands on either side of the screen to steady herself. It wasn't too much of an act. She put on a little, but she hadn't eaten well for a few days, nor had her sleeping arrangements been ideal. These things combined had a way of adding to the effects of the hypospray. Even still, Whiskey was confident she could defend herself if need be.
"Please let me out now. I promise I'll be no trouble. I'll... I'll do whatever you ask."
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Susan
We do not sew
131 posts
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last online Dec 18, 2014 19:30:17 GMT -5
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Apr 28, 2013 13:05:16 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Apr 28, 2013 13:05:16 GMT -5
The Echani pilot watched the screen with interest as she carried out his instructions. The girl exposed flesh at the top of her legs, and did what was told of her quite calmly and naturally. He did not feel the need to stare deep at the image on the screen and lustfully devour every pixel on display. He had already gotten a decent look at her before, and while he thought the medical examination cum strip tease would be highly erotic and fuel his special bank for many weeks, it did not. Avanni Silas was not a bad man, not really. He broke a lot of galactic laws and he was fairly sure that he had facilitated the murders of more than a few people, but just because he was involved didn’t mean he was to blame. A blaster pistol wasn’t bad, it was just a tool utilised by someone else. And while Avanni didn’t consider himself a tool, he recognised that he was often just that – a useful piece of equipment. At times he could be considered a lecherous opportunist, and that wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but he was not a bad man.
Since meeting the young woman less than an hour ago, he had already visualised several scenarios where there would be many happy endings involved. But there was one underlying trait that they all had in common. The older man taking advantages of the young girl. And whilst watching the girl undoing her pants in his room, from behind a locked door, he realised that that was what he would become in this situation. And he did not want to be that person. He was preoccupied with his own mini-dilemma that he only half noticed the girl moving, and only paid full attention when her face was flush to the screen. She was a pretty young girl, cute even. Despite himself, Avanni smelt a genuine smile creep onto his features for a few short moments.
”See Amber, I told you it wasn’t hard.” The smile returned with renewed warmth as he reached to the side of the monitor and disabled the locking mechanism on the door. The smile was also partially to himself, he remembered her name with very little effort. And he wasn’t even drunk.
He opened up the door to see her standing there, a frightened little girl on the run and far from home. When he first found her he said to himself that if she turned out to be harmless, then she would get her free ride. And Avanni planned on being true to that word, even though she did try to steal from him. In any event, he planned on keeping her blaster. It would fetch a good price at the right market.
”You hungry? I only really have prefab stuff but it works well enough. And if you close your eyes and think really hard, you can almost pretend it’s meat.” It was a vile truth of long haul shipping, the food was awful. Of course, it didn’t need to be, but it was just cheaper and easier. The smuggler was happy enough to eat anything so long as it classified as being edible, even by a smidgen. He couldn’t be arsed forking out to buy the proper equipment to store a feast that would cost far more than was sane. Plus it would eat into his profit margin, and he needed that money. Mostly for booze.
”There is another room on board where you can sleep, and somewhere for you to shower. We can talk more about these people that put you up to this as well. But that’s for later. Come, let’s walk.”
With yet another gentle smile, he stepped back from the doorway to allow her room, and proffered a hand to his side in a polite gesture for her to walk besides him. It might be nice to have some company that didn’t communicate primarily with farting for a change.
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Meira
She don't mess around
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Apr 29, 2013 16:54:12 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Apr 29, 2013 16:54:12 GMT -5
Finally.
The door opened and Whiskey stepped back, still somewhat wary of this man, but the sedative was calming her nerves some. She watched him, but he did not move to enter the room. Instead he invited her to walk with him and share a meal. He held his hand out, not high, but to Whiskey, it triggered a memory of her training. People held their hands out to shake them, or hold them. He was not standing as one who was wanting to shake hands, so he must have wanted her to hold it.
Stepping forward, Whiskey put her hand into his and moved through the doorway toward where she knew his food supplies were kept. She thought it was an odd thing, holding hands with someone. It was awkward and unnecessary. But Whiskey had never done well on social behaviors back at Green Meadows. None of it really made sense to her.
They arrived in what served as the ship's galley. Above their heads, Whiskey knew her satchel was concealed amongst the pipes and ducts. Inside that satchel was her knife. She preferred her blaster, but she didn't have her blaster. She didn't have her knife either really... These were things that would have to be fixed. But how to do that without raising his suspicions? She could think of no good answer. So her plan remained unchanged. Play the pathetic, helpless female until circumstances changed in her favor.
It was at this moment that Whiskey realized she'd committed a social error. Avanni Silas had done something for her. He'd let her out of that room. Never mind that he was the one that had confined her in the first place. His actions constituted a favor and a sign of goodwill. "Thank you." she said, suddenly. She'd turned her head toward him and noted the way her mind seemed to follow a bit slower than her vision. "For... believing me." she said.
"I'm not hungry, though." she added. She'd eaten just before starting this silly mission. "Maybe could I have just a glass of water?"
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Susan
We do not sew
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last online Dec 18, 2014 19:30:17 GMT -5
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Apr 29, 2013 17:42:27 GMT -5
Post by Susan on Apr 29, 2013 17:42:27 GMT -5
A slightly bushy silver eyebrow elevated itself a little as the girl reached out for his hand and took it gently in her own. It was not something he had in mind, nor something he had expected, but he went with it anyway. Her hand was soft, so it was not exactly displeasing, albeit a little strange. He realised that she must just be frightened and was looking to him for protection, which made him question how old the girl actually was. He estimated that the human had passed her twentieth cycle, but perhaps not long ago. And it was certainly possible that she was younger even than that. It made his earlier thoughts somewhat displeasing to him, and he had now certainly ruled out going down that path entirely. She was pleasing to him physically, but he was becoming increasingly aware that she was just a scared little girl. And little girl’s needed protecting.
He walked with her gently through the short length of his ships interior, and he noted that she walked with him really rather comfortably. Earlier she was scared, trapped, injured and confused. The sedative had certainly had an effect on her, now she was calm and almost peaceful. Avanni liked to belief that his presence had also soothed her, that she felt comfortable in his company. He had never before thought of himself as someone who inspired comfort, but there was always a first time for everything. Like that hot night on Tatooine with the Zabrak. He shook his head briefly to dislodge the incoming memories, and focused on the here and now.
He walked into the galley with her trailing close beside him, and then he paused thinking for a moment. He wasn’t sure what food they had in that would be suitable for her, but he then realised that it didn’t really matter. If she was hungry, then she would eat. But really it was down to her, and in the end she made the decision for him.
”Not hungry? Well that’s okay, but it’s a long flight so you will have to eat sometime, Amber.” He smiled at her softly and then moved towards the far side of the galley to prepare her drink. It was then that he lamely realised she was still holding his hand. ”Sure I will get you a drink, but you are going to have to let go of my hand. Don’t worry, I will be right here.” He tried to keep his voice as soft and calm as possibly, stooping slightly to get closer to her eyelevel. He knew he had to play this carefully, maybe she was a bit fragile after her injury and was clinging on him out of sheer protective instinct. Either way, he needed his hand, and ever so gently slid it away from hers. With the worst not occurring, he stepped away from her and over to fix her that drink.
He half turned to address her, to ask if there was any other drink he could get her, water was a little bland and he wasn’t sure when he last changed the tanks. But he then remembered that other than the water tanks, the only drinks they kept stocked on board were alcoholic, and she didn’t really seem like a whiskey person. So water it was, he recovered a small tumbler from a high cupboard and placed it under the dispenser. It was motion activated, and the water soon spluttered out. The spluttering wasn’t exactly confidence inspiring, but end of the day, he had nothing else to offer her. He turned around and moved back to her, holding out the glass towards her.
”Here you go, nothing too fancy, but it’s drinkable. I think.” he grinned sheepishly at that comment, later realising that that comment could scare her more than she probably already was. ”Now you might not be hungry, but that doesn’t mean you can’t sit down. Come.”
He smiled again, getting more used to that, and the calm reassuring tone. Even though his throat was starting to hurt a little. He moved to the small circular table in the centre of the room, it was designed to hold four people, and four stiff chairs were set up around it. He always wondered why the ship seemed to be set up for four people. Four seats in the galley, four rooms, even four toothbrushes in the bathroom. Yet there were only two flight seats and you didn’t need more than two to efficiently run the ship. Most peculiar. But a mystery for another day, he sat himself down at the table and gestured for her to join him.
”So these people that put you up to this, they scare you do they? Don’t you worry about them, I can take you far away from them.” Coruscant was pretty far away, but he was starting to think he might have to do more than just drop the girl off at the starport. ”Who are they, Amber, and what do they want with you?”
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Meira
She don't mess around
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May 4, 2013 11:03:04 GMT -5
Post by Meira on May 4, 2013 11:03:04 GMT -5
As he moved to get her that glass of water, Avanni Silas asked that she let go of his hand. Whiskey obliged, but when the man turned his back to get the glass, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the way he was talking to her now. This feeling, she knew this one. It was called annoyed. He was speaking to her as if she were a child. If only he knew that, even in her debilitated state, she could have killed him at least three different ways since he opened that door. More, she was sure, if she could keep her mind focused.
But when he turned back around, Whiskey's face did not display annoyance, but rather a weak smile. This act was tiresome. Surely there was a better way to do this. She took a drink and the water tasted stale, as if it'd been in the ship's tanks for some time. She did not worry, however. Her immune system was systematically improved during her training years to counter a vast majority of common infections. She was sure that, if anything was wrong with the water, it would not effect her.
Avanni Silas implored her to sit, and so Whiskey did, taking the chair across from him at the table. She might have gone for the one next to him, but she felt that she'd played up her act well enough. Perhaps too well if he'd begun speaking to her as if she were a child. He asked again about the people who had hired her and Whiskey took another drink before answering.
"I told you everything I know." she said. It was a lie. She knew where she was to meet the contact on Coruscant, but that was the only part of this whole thing she was keeping from him. "I only know the man to that made me do it. I never met anyone else." This was true. Meeting any other members of the criminal organization was unnecessary for her to complete her task.
"What's so special about what you have?" she asked, genuinely curious. "What is it?"
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Susan
We do not sew
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May 4, 2013 12:20:39 GMT -5
Post by Susan on May 4, 2013 12:20:39 GMT -5
The tall Echani pilot sat down at the table, watching the younger woman for a few moments as she took a seat opposite him. She drank the water he had given her without any real hesitation, and since she didn’t immediately turn green and her head didn’t explode, Avanni expected that it was probably safe to drink. Which was good really, whilst the girl had illegally infiltrated his ship – he didn’t want to see her killed. Especially not by drinking water. For one thing, it was a real waste, for another it was an incredibly boring way to die. Avanni had no desire to die any time soon, and privately thought he might be immortal, but if he was to go he wanted it to be in flames and explosions and stuff. If he was going to go out at all, it would be with a bang, not with a fizzle.
He had to start to think what he would do with the girl now. He believed her story, but he couldn’t send her back to where she came, and it would be wrong of him to just dump her at the next planet. But there was no way he could just keep her either. For a start she wasn’t exactly a pet, and would probably require more maintenance than a Kath hound. As well as that, Avanni was barely able to look after himself, let alone a young woman that seemed lost and alone. She was too old to go to an orphanage or anything, even if the Echani knew where to find him. Possibly there was some kind of homeless welfare centre on Coruscant that he could take her to. On the lower tiers if anywhere, those Coruscanti liked to pretend they were looking out for the lesser being, but still didn’t want to see or smell said lesser being.
”Well that man is a long way away now. He can’t get you here.” That was probably true, if this guy was recruiting homeless urchins to do his bidding, Avanni doubted he had a quick attack vessel at his disposal. The smuggler’s busy eyebrow decided to do a merry little dance again as she began to question what he was carrying. He supposed it was just idle curiosity, but regardless he always shifted to a heightened level of suspicion when someone asked about his profession, it was a necessary survival trait.
”Oh you know, nothing remarkable. Just a few trinkets from Corulag that are worth a bit of money to the right people. Something doesn’t have to be special for other people to want it. Everything is valuable in its own way, Amber.”
He may have trusted her story but that did not mean he trusted the girl. Not nearly enough to tell her the truth, at any rate. He hardly needed the stowaway to know that he was a smuggler, after all.
”Do you have any family anywhere, anyone to take you in? My ship is going to Coruscant. I can take you elsewhere if need be.”
And he was prepared to take her somewhere else, not anywhere too far though. Fuel prices had skyrocketed recently.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
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Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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May 7, 2013 17:28:04 GMT -5
Post by Meira on May 7, 2013 17:28:04 GMT -5
Whiskey knew the rules for reading expressions and body language, but unless these things were obvious, she had trouble identifying certain "tells". In this situation, had she not already known he was smuggling datapads, Whiskey doubted she would have been able to tell he was lying. He seemed casual and relaxed, and that didn't change when he spoke the lie. She supposed that, like her, lying was an essential part of life for this Avanni Silas.
So she nodded her head, accepting his answer. It didn't matter that he lied to her, though it did tell her that he was still guarded. This was not unexpected. She took another drink of the water, then placed it on the table. Her hand felt weak as she lowered the glass. Her head was feeling heavy. She did not like sedatives. She didn't know it until the chip had malfunctioned, but she didn't like that something other than her own will could determine her physical or mental state. Of course, that was the purpose of the chip, and she had desperately wanted it functional again those first few days she lived without it.
But now that she'd been out on her own for some time and experienced a life that wasn't constantly being erased from her memory, she wasn't quite sure she wanted the chip back at all. Sure, she'd experienced pain, anger, sadness, and fear on a scale she could not ever remember, but she'd also experienced pride, and even joy the few times she was behind the controls of a particularly fast ship. While her mind was still unsure if those feelings were necessary, she had decided that they were at least worth remembering. If she went back, they would take all of that away.
Avanni Silas asked if she had family and Whiskey, her mind still slightly elsewhere, answered with a shake of her head. "They never told us." she said, then recognizing the statement as problematic, added "I was an orphan."
She yawned and decided that, for now, it might be best to give in to the sedative and rest. She could trust this man enough to allow her to do that. In exchange, she would not kill him either. "The medicine is making me drowsy." she said, looking up at him. "May I rest?"
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Susan
We do not sew
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May 8, 2013 9:54:55 GMT -5
Post by Susan on May 8, 2013 9:54:55 GMT -5
There were a lot of people like her around the universe, Avanni knew this for a fact. Orphaned urchins that would do almost anything just for the tiniest scrap of food. For that reason, the Echani didn’t really care much about the plight of this young Amber. He cared enough not to just heartlessly dump her somewhere, but he had no intention of giving her cash or buying her a place to live or anything like that. Her story was a familiar one, so generic really she could have just made it up. But the same could be said for Avanni. Former military pilot, gone into the private sector, found it shite, went criminal. For as wide and diverse the galaxy was, many people were just the same.
Avanni was momentarily thankful of his own upbringing. He may only have had the one parent, but his mother did a hell of a job raising him, and he very rarely had any problems as a child. At least, nothing more major than a stubbed toe. That differed dramatically from the girl before him, not ever having parents, growing up in an orphanage. Which was probably no better than a prison, those places hardly had the best of reputations. And most likely she was dumped as soon as she was old enough to take care of herself, which she was doing, albeit barely. The Echani briefly looked at his stowaway with curious intrigue, in another life she could have been an actress, or a politician or god knows what. Just because of her roots, she grew up fighting for her life. Sure, it had probably given her a hardened shell, but it hardly made things better. The smuggler had no plans to have any children himself, but if he ever did, he wanted better for them than what happened to girls like this Amber. He wanted better for his kids than his own childhood, and his was pretty damned sweet.
”Where were you raised, on Nar Shaddaa?” He asked not really out of interest, but more because he had little else to say. He wasn’t really the most skilled at talking to people. If he was negotiating a contract or trying to get in someone’s pants, that was a completely different story. When he wanted something, he’d go for it guns blazing. But conversation for conversations sake, it wasn’t something he was used to. Even with Miles Tanner, a man he spent almost every waking moment with, few words were shared. The old fool was still in the cockpit, and Avanni hadn’t even bothered telling him about the recent developments.
Fortunately it looked like he wouldn’t have to suffer through the indignity of polite small talk after all, with the girl wanting to sleep. It was understandable, the injection she took was designed to encourage lethargy, forcing the body to sleep and make it easier to repair any ailments. It was interesting to him that the girl now felt comfortable in his company, no longer afraid. He liked that, it made a warm feeling spread from his chest. Usually he just got warm feelings in his groin.
He rose slowly from the table, smiling at her gently and heading out of the galley. Motioning for her to come with him, she could take one of the guest rooms, and would likely sleep for the rest of the journey to Coruscant. He would probably do the same, he was getting a little sleepy, although there may be more pressing concerns. Subtly sniffing his own armpit, he realised he should probably improve his own hygiene situation – although current company demanded that he should at least offer it first to his lady guest.
”There is a guest room where you can sleep, but before that would you like to freshen up? We have a bathroom just down the hall.”
He had stopped halfway down the corridor to turn to her, indicating the direction in which he meant. It again confused him that the ship had four bedrooms, yet just the one bathroom. It wasn’t even a large bathroom at that, barely enough room for the base necessities, and just a shower – no bath. Although personally, Avanni was happy enough with a shower. He felt it made his singing sound better.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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May 19, 2013 18:25:22 GMT -5
Post by Meira on May 19, 2013 18:25:22 GMT -5
"Kuat" she said, correcting his guess. Kuat was a planet familiar enough to most, but not one that many were overly familiar with outside of the space ports and drive yards. It was her go-to planet of origin whenever the question came up. She wouldn't know it, but this was only the second time she'd ever been in a situation where using the planet was necessary. The first was entirely gone from her memory.
He seemed satisfied with her answers. Whiskey judged this entirely on the fact that he permitted her a room on the ship. She stood slowly, allowing her body to counteract the effects of sedation, then followed him as he led the way to the rooms. They were indicated, and then he offered the refresher should she care to use it.
"Yes, please." she said, turning toward where he indicated it would be. Closing the door behind her, Whiskey settled her weight against the wall, her head falling back against the paneling. Her eyes closed, heavy lidded, but she forced them open again. It wouldn't do for her to pass out in the refresher. So she set about the business of hygiene, quickly and efficiently as they'd been taught at Green Meadows. She had to put the clothes she was wearing back on, but at least her body was clean again.
When she entered the small room, she didn't even bother to close the door. By now, the sedatives were fully active within her system and it was all Whiskey could do to fall onto the bunk and let her sleep finally take her. This time, there were no dreams, none that she could remember anyway. The dreams were one part of this life without the chip that Whiskey was certain she didn't like. They were never pleasant, nor were they often clear. Too many times, she would awake in a sweat, terrified, but unsure why. She had found fear to be an interesting sensation, but when coupled with an inability to understand... she had almost returned to Green Meadows because of the dreams alone.
When she woke, it was slowly. First came a sense of lying down, then the sound of the ship's engines. Slowly, the feel of the blanket on her cheek, and the smell of the stale recycled air followed. Lastly, she opened her eyes. It took time for them to focus, and even more time for her heavy muscles to push her up from the bed to a sitting position. Her skull felt as if it would implode and every muscle in her body ached at the withdrawal of the sedatives. She hated sedatives. Slowly, she stood and made her way to the ship's kitchen once again.
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