Samantha Solo
Character
Corellia sat at the edge of Protectorate Space within reach of the Republic, the One Sith, and the Black Sun. CORSEC seemed to be working twice as hard monitoring the trafficking that was coming across borders chasing down criminals and bringing them to justice.
Corellia home of the famous Han Solo, smuggler, General, Husband and nerf herder. Nerf herder had never been verified but it made his story that much more larger than life. It also helped to draw in travelers, businesses, and the criminal element.
Sam grew up walking the golden sand beaches and watching the tourists make fools of themselves as they turned from the lily white flowers of the field into the boiled red lobsters eaten for dinner. She could only shake her head as she walked, long dark hair lay on her shoulders, drifting down her back. Her coal black eyes scanned everyone ahead of her watching for a moment of recognition, the tense of a muscle, the thin line of a mouth that told her they were up to something. Sam made sure to give a little wiggle of her fingers to the men looking her way, just as the women with them would punch, slap, or get up in a huff and leave.
But that was Sam’s part to play, to look like the flirt, the house wrecker it get her into places normally she couldn’t.
Sighing slightly she remembered there were several parties this week. Yeah everyone would kill for her job, and probably had. But she in truth wanted to sit on the beach go unnoticed, and have a drink that would quench her thirst. She looked into the eyes of the man who was walking past, wiggling her fingers and smiling brightly. She made sure to look over her shoulder to see if he was looking, she looked, he was looking she laughed turning her head back. Pretty face. Hot body. Was that what men were looking for, what about being smart too, or ambitious, or talented...there was so much more to her than...what she portrayed.
Watch them, what are they thinking.
She remembered a line from a movie she had seen last night, how did it go look at the marauder’s map and declare I solemnly swear I am up to no good. Yes that was the look I am up to no good. But it wasn’t her that would wrangle them in for questioning, or confession. No she identified them, got the evidence and then relayed it back. Sam was a member of the part of CORSEC that many didn’t talk about, and many wondered what they did.
Yes on a good day she got to wear something fitted and revealing playing a game of flip my hair and bat my eyes with some guy who made her skin crawl. She had to be careful though too many of the men she socialized with disappeared then she would draw suspicion.
There was word of carpetbaggers on Corellia, which didn’t surprise Sam at all. Death was something that couldn’t be controlled and when death claimed someone off world, immediately someone showed up offering to “help” the surviving spouse. Help who would have thought that could be turned into an opportunistic word. But it had these carpetbaggers were moving in buy up land and businesses cheap as they played on the insecurities and pain of loved ones left behind.
If there was anyone to hate in the galaxy she’d hate them, and right now she was hunting them.
Her comm went off and from the pocket of her beach robe she pulled it out, there was a murder. They wanted her on site. Murder wasn’t generally something they called her in on, there had to be something special about this one.
She wrote back as she sauntered down the beach, Details.
The response didn’t take long, third one in two weeks. May be a psychopath, or a gang either way they want your eyes on this, can you come.
She stopped, she had to think. Only if you can assure me no one would see me, at all.
The pause was a lot longer than she expected. You’re the weeping girlfriend, get over here.
Well Sith spawn she thought and headed toward the address.
Corellia home of the famous Han Solo, smuggler, General, Husband and nerf herder. Nerf herder had never been verified but it made his story that much more larger than life. It also helped to draw in travelers, businesses, and the criminal element.
Sam grew up walking the golden sand beaches and watching the tourists make fools of themselves as they turned from the lily white flowers of the field into the boiled red lobsters eaten for dinner. She could only shake her head as she walked, long dark hair lay on her shoulders, drifting down her back. Her coal black eyes scanned everyone ahead of her watching for a moment of recognition, the tense of a muscle, the thin line of a mouth that told her they were up to something. Sam made sure to give a little wiggle of her fingers to the men looking her way, just as the women with them would punch, slap, or get up in a huff and leave.
But that was Sam’s part to play, to look like the flirt, the house wrecker it get her into places normally she couldn’t.
Sighing slightly she remembered there were several parties this week. Yeah everyone would kill for her job, and probably had. But she in truth wanted to sit on the beach go unnoticed, and have a drink that would quench her thirst. She looked into the eyes of the man who was walking past, wiggling her fingers and smiling brightly. She made sure to look over her shoulder to see if he was looking, she looked, he was looking she laughed turning her head back. Pretty face. Hot body. Was that what men were looking for, what about being smart too, or ambitious, or talented...there was so much more to her than...what she portrayed.
Watch them, what are they thinking.
She remembered a line from a movie she had seen last night, how did it go look at the marauder’s map and declare I solemnly swear I am up to no good. Yes that was the look I am up to no good. But it wasn’t her that would wrangle them in for questioning, or confession. No she identified them, got the evidence and then relayed it back. Sam was a member of the part of CORSEC that many didn’t talk about, and many wondered what they did.
Yes on a good day she got to wear something fitted and revealing playing a game of flip my hair and bat my eyes with some guy who made her skin crawl. She had to be careful though too many of the men she socialized with disappeared then she would draw suspicion.
There was word of carpetbaggers on Corellia, which didn’t surprise Sam at all. Death was something that couldn’t be controlled and when death claimed someone off world, immediately someone showed up offering to “help” the surviving spouse. Help who would have thought that could be turned into an opportunistic word. But it had these carpetbaggers were moving in buy up land and businesses cheap as they played on the insecurities and pain of loved ones left behind.
If there was anyone to hate in the galaxy she’d hate them, and right now she was hunting them.
Her comm went off and from the pocket of her beach robe she pulled it out, there was a murder. They wanted her on site. Murder wasn’t generally something they called her in on, there had to be something special about this one.
She wrote back as she sauntered down the beach, Details.
The response didn’t take long, third one in two weeks. May be a psychopath, or a gang either way they want your eyes on this, can you come.
She stopped, she had to think. Only if you can assure me no one would see me, at all.
The pause was a lot longer than she expected. You’re the weeping girlfriend, get over here.
Well Sith spawn she thought and headed toward the address.