Inanna Harth
Jedi Knight
A starport on some planet (Bastion? Dromund Kaas? Zeltros? Whatever, it's irrelevant.)
Adrian Vandiir was the proud owner (and if Inanna had to guess, the proud commissioner and designer) of the Truesilver, a very fancy, ridiculously expensive star yacht. It was a pretty young thing with mirrors on its sleek hull, fully customizable, and could travel faster than she could form a single thought. It made her little star courier look like a kid’s toy in comparison.
It was startlingly easy for her to sneak aboard. All she had to do was bat her eyes at the security which guarded the door to the hangar, her body molded to suit her role as a supposed concubine who had arrived late due to no fault of her own.
"A last minute issue came up," she said, her voice like honey in the ears of everyone present. Thanks to her hypnosis, she appeared to each of them as their ideal beauty, the perfect woman, something out of their wildest dreams. "It's not a problem anymore, but I couldn't help being late. He hasn't taken off without me, has he? Oh, I just couldn't bear to disappoint him..."
Stumbling over apologetic reassurances, the guards let her through. She hurried across the hangar and darted up the boarding ramp, only to be halted yet again by a mechanical arm that threatened to push her back down.
"Who are you? State your business here," the droid said. There would be no hypnotizing this one.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, Inanna thought to herself. With a flick of her wrist, a stun baton appeared in her hand. It belonged to Ayreon; Inanna had borrowed it for the occasion. She struck the droid's head with it, blasting it with electrical energy. It collapsed with a crash and clatter of metal, and she kicked it down to the bottom of the ramp.
I like this thing, she thought to herself, holding up the baton. If those files Pygar had stolen were accurate, a weapon like this would prove very useful if Adrian threw a hissy fit upon returning to the ship and finding she had short-circuited one of his droids. Or if he got angry with her for any other reason - she was sure she would have ample opportunities to do so in the coming hours.
She headed inside the Truesilver proper. Inanna blinked in the sudden low lighting, wondering if the ship's computer had turned off the lights upon realizing she was there. It was certainly a possibility. Adrian had invented those Tsu... Tsudak... the brain things, after all. He might have one on this vessel... no, scratch that. He had to have one controlling this thing, or he wasn't Adrian Vandiir.
“Oh, joy,” Inanna muttered under her breath. She could sense the presences of several beings beyond the door to what she guessed was the master bedroom. “Time to break up an orgy...”
Upon entering the suite, Inanna was greeted by the sight of a bunch of scantily clad women… napping. Quietly, peacefully, and ungracefully sprawled across several bunks were a variety of different species of prostitute, although Adrian’s usual preference for Zeltron cafarels was made plain by the abundance of pink skin and svelte bodies.
Closing her baton, Inanna flicked her wrist, stowing it away inside her body. Probably some of the women here were armed (she used to be a hooker herself, after all—she knew the necessity of having even the cheapest holdout blaster on hand if things got rough), but she didn’t want them to think she had come to attack them.
“Hey!” she shouted, clapping her hands loudly. “Everybody wake up! We got a problem here! The maintenance crew detected a toxic gas leak - that means all organics must be evacuated from this vessel immediately!”
And just like that, nap time was over. A few of the less groggy ones fled at once, regardless of their state of undress. The rest stumbled around, frantically picking up clothes and belongings, then staggered out the door past Inanna.
As the last one left, she did a quick sense of the ship, detecting no more stragglers or stowaways. In all honesty, it seemed way too easy. Enough to make her suspicious. But it wasn't as if Adrian could see the future and had already laid plans to exact his revenge for her breaking into his ship unannounced, right? Ugh...
As if on cue, a monotonous voice suddenly spoke, echoing throughout the interior of the vessel. "If you are wondering why I let you infiltrate this vessel, it is because Mr. Vandiir does not consider you a threat."
Inanna, who had jumped at the sudden noise, grumbled a series of unprintable Shi'idese obscenities under her breath. "Oh, really? Well, that's wonderful. I never wanted him to see me as a threat anyway. After all, I helped him, didn't I?" But only because she had something to gain. Always only because she had something to gain, never for nothing but a fragile hope, no no no... "I assume you've already informed him of my arrival?"
“He knows you are present here. But I think Mr. Vandiir will be more offended by you evacuating all of the women from the ship, save yourself,” the voice replied. “Is there any particular reason they had to be removed from the premises?”
Inanna smirked. “I just wanted to annoy him.” But then her smile faded. "And I want the two of us to be left alone."
"A common request." There was no trace of mockery in the disembodied voice's humorless tone. "I cannot reduce my presence unless Mr. Vandiir orders me to do so."
"Well, I don't care about you being here, whatever you are," she replied. "So long as you don't cause any distractions." Turning on her heel, she headed down the hall to the main room of the ship, where she thought she had glimpsed a fully-stocked bar, though it had been too dark to see everything. The lights turned on when she entered, revealing glinting glass bottles and mirrored shelves.
Ducking behind the bar, Inanna scanned the inventory, not really expecting much. But she was pleasantly surprised to find exactly what she was hoping for: a bottle containing a green liquor, along with a bowl of sugar cubes. She reached for the drink, only to hesitate, her hand hovering over the neck of the bottle. A moment later she let her hand drop and walked away.
"There is a bartender droid available," the voice said. "If you had told me what your intentions were, I would have had it make you a drink."
"I decided not to drink after all." She sighed. "What else have you got on this ship?"
"If you intend to merely take advantage of Mr. Vandiir's luxuries..."
Inanna didn't hear the rest, having stopped paying attention. She walked out from behind the bar and headed for the nearest door she had yet to explore. It opened automatically - despite his annoyance, the Sud-a-care had yet to try and stop her from wandering wherever she pleased - and she beheld nothing less than a hot tub built into the floor of the room inside. A bit surprised, she immediately thought of Adrian making use of said hot tub. The image alone provoked a giggle from her. She covered her mouth to muffle her laughter, even though no one was around to hear it except the (still-talking) disembodied voice.
"Okay, okay," she said loudly, trying to get the Not-a-Care to shut up. "I'll stay in this room until he gets here. I won't break anything, I promise."
The voice paused. "Acknowledged." She didn't hear from it again.
“Time to play the waiting game," she muttered with a sigh. Her flesh crawled and warped as her clothes were replaced by a black bikini... no, a matronly one-piece. Not even the sleek, elegant kind that athletic women preferred - this was the kind of thing his grandma might wear to the beach, assuming she wasn't sun-and-sand-adverse. Remembering how pasty Adrian had been at their first meeting, she guessed it might be a clan trait. Climbing into the bubbling water, she sat down in the hot tub to wait.
"Might as well get comfortable...”
AMCO
Adrian Vandiir was the proud owner (and if Inanna had to guess, the proud commissioner and designer) of the Truesilver, a very fancy, ridiculously expensive star yacht. It was a pretty young thing with mirrors on its sleek hull, fully customizable, and could travel faster than she could form a single thought. It made her little star courier look like a kid’s toy in comparison.
It was startlingly easy for her to sneak aboard. All she had to do was bat her eyes at the security which guarded the door to the hangar, her body molded to suit her role as a supposed concubine who had arrived late due to no fault of her own.
"A last minute issue came up," she said, her voice like honey in the ears of everyone present. Thanks to her hypnosis, she appeared to each of them as their ideal beauty, the perfect woman, something out of their wildest dreams. "It's not a problem anymore, but I couldn't help being late. He hasn't taken off without me, has he? Oh, I just couldn't bear to disappoint him..."
Stumbling over apologetic reassurances, the guards let her through. She hurried across the hangar and darted up the boarding ramp, only to be halted yet again by a mechanical arm that threatened to push her back down.
"Who are you? State your business here," the droid said. There would be no hypnotizing this one.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, Inanna thought to herself. With a flick of her wrist, a stun baton appeared in her hand. It belonged to Ayreon; Inanna had borrowed it for the occasion. She struck the droid's head with it, blasting it with electrical energy. It collapsed with a crash and clatter of metal, and she kicked it down to the bottom of the ramp.
I like this thing, she thought to herself, holding up the baton. If those files Pygar had stolen were accurate, a weapon like this would prove very useful if Adrian threw a hissy fit upon returning to the ship and finding she had short-circuited one of his droids. Or if he got angry with her for any other reason - she was sure she would have ample opportunities to do so in the coming hours.
She headed inside the Truesilver proper. Inanna blinked in the sudden low lighting, wondering if the ship's computer had turned off the lights upon realizing she was there. It was certainly a possibility. Adrian had invented those Tsu... Tsudak... the brain things, after all. He might have one on this vessel... no, scratch that. He had to have one controlling this thing, or he wasn't Adrian Vandiir.
“Oh, joy,” Inanna muttered under her breath. She could sense the presences of several beings beyond the door to what she guessed was the master bedroom. “Time to break up an orgy...”
Upon entering the suite, Inanna was greeted by the sight of a bunch of scantily clad women… napping. Quietly, peacefully, and ungracefully sprawled across several bunks were a variety of different species of prostitute, although Adrian’s usual preference for Zeltron cafarels was made plain by the abundance of pink skin and svelte bodies.
Closing her baton, Inanna flicked her wrist, stowing it away inside her body. Probably some of the women here were armed (she used to be a hooker herself, after all—she knew the necessity of having even the cheapest holdout blaster on hand if things got rough), but she didn’t want them to think she had come to attack them.
“Hey!” she shouted, clapping her hands loudly. “Everybody wake up! We got a problem here! The maintenance crew detected a toxic gas leak - that means all organics must be evacuated from this vessel immediately!”
And just like that, nap time was over. A few of the less groggy ones fled at once, regardless of their state of undress. The rest stumbled around, frantically picking up clothes and belongings, then staggered out the door past Inanna.
As the last one left, she did a quick sense of the ship, detecting no more stragglers or stowaways. In all honesty, it seemed way too easy. Enough to make her suspicious. But it wasn't as if Adrian could see the future and had already laid plans to exact his revenge for her breaking into his ship unannounced, right? Ugh...
As if on cue, a monotonous voice suddenly spoke, echoing throughout the interior of the vessel. "If you are wondering why I let you infiltrate this vessel, it is because Mr. Vandiir does not consider you a threat."
Inanna, who had jumped at the sudden noise, grumbled a series of unprintable Shi'idese obscenities under her breath. "Oh, really? Well, that's wonderful. I never wanted him to see me as a threat anyway. After all, I helped him, didn't I?" But only because she had something to gain. Always only because she had something to gain, never for nothing but a fragile hope, no no no... "I assume you've already informed him of my arrival?"
“He knows you are present here. But I think Mr. Vandiir will be more offended by you evacuating all of the women from the ship, save yourself,” the voice replied. “Is there any particular reason they had to be removed from the premises?”
Inanna smirked. “I just wanted to annoy him.” But then her smile faded. "And I want the two of us to be left alone."
"A common request." There was no trace of mockery in the disembodied voice's humorless tone. "I cannot reduce my presence unless Mr. Vandiir orders me to do so."
"Well, I don't care about you being here, whatever you are," she replied. "So long as you don't cause any distractions." Turning on her heel, she headed down the hall to the main room of the ship, where she thought she had glimpsed a fully-stocked bar, though it had been too dark to see everything. The lights turned on when she entered, revealing glinting glass bottles and mirrored shelves.
Ducking behind the bar, Inanna scanned the inventory, not really expecting much. But she was pleasantly surprised to find exactly what she was hoping for: a bottle containing a green liquor, along with a bowl of sugar cubes. She reached for the drink, only to hesitate, her hand hovering over the neck of the bottle. A moment later she let her hand drop and walked away.
"There is a bartender droid available," the voice said. "If you had told me what your intentions were, I would have had it make you a drink."
"I decided not to drink after all." She sighed. "What else have you got on this ship?"
"If you intend to merely take advantage of Mr. Vandiir's luxuries..."
Inanna didn't hear the rest, having stopped paying attention. She walked out from behind the bar and headed for the nearest door she had yet to explore. It opened automatically - despite his annoyance, the Sud-a-care had yet to try and stop her from wandering wherever she pleased - and she beheld nothing less than a hot tub built into the floor of the room inside. A bit surprised, she immediately thought of Adrian making use of said hot tub. The image alone provoked a giggle from her. She covered her mouth to muffle her laughter, even though no one was around to hear it except the (still-talking) disembodied voice.
"Okay, okay," she said loudly, trying to get the Not-a-Care to shut up. "I'll stay in this room until he gets here. I won't break anything, I promise."
The voice paused. "Acknowledged." She didn't hear from it again.
“Time to play the waiting game," she muttered with a sigh. Her flesh crawled and warped as her clothes were replaced by a black bikini... no, a matronly one-piece. Not even the sleek, elegant kind that athletic women preferred - this was the kind of thing his grandma might wear to the beach, assuming she wasn't sun-and-sand-adverse. Remembering how pasty Adrian had been at their first meeting, she guessed it might be a clan trait. Climbing into the bubbling water, she sat down in the hot tub to wait.
"Might as well get comfortable...”
AMCO
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