"Your Majesty, you Majesty," came the annoying, metallic and grating voice of the protocol droid, D3-EP "Your Majesty, you
must wake up!"
The lights came on, flooding Nyree's closed eyes with a sharp pain of light. The sound of the protocol droid's annoying voice as cut off by half a dozen voices groaning.
"F#$k off, turn the light back off Deeper," Nyree grumbled, rolling over and propping her elbow on one of the nearby muscled men. The gal who had been hold Nyree close let out a whimper of protest at her movement and the sudden lack of warmth. "It's too early for that."
"Your Majesty, it is 11:46, you
must wake up," her droid protested. "You are already late as it is for the deal, if you are going to be a leader--"
"I know, I know," she pushed herself up and crawled over three of her bed mates, trying to miss their most sensitive spots. She succeeded--mostly. Nyree groaned. Her head was pounding. "Gotta make myself worthy. Oh well, let's get this sh!t over with, I guess. Bring the speeder around--the fast one."
It didn't take long for the brunette to go to her closet--which was, to be fair, bigger than most apartments in the Core Worlds--and grabbed several of the Gucciest, dankest, sexiest clothes off their racks. Which were individually, each worth more than an apartment in the core worlds.
"Should I arrange a pilot droid for you, Your Majesty?" asked the protocol droid, popping his head in.
"Jesus Skywalker, Deeper," Nyree said covering her mostly bare chest, except for the blur boxes required to make this post PG-13, "I'm not dressed!"
"Terribly sorr--"
"Get ya damn head outta my closet," she shouted throwing a push up bra over his photoceptors, "And no, no driver."
The droid left, and Nyree finished dressing in peace. She stepped out onto
her speeder and barreled through the streets of Eve, going much faster than the legal speed limit, the radio in her
bracelet blasting loudly. She loved to go fast, she loved to break the rules, and if she could do both at once--well, why not? The Merchant Princess cut through the streets, weaving with speed that would have made her absent father proud if he had even known she existed. The Force flowed through, her guiding the speeder's every movement, her every twitch. She even closed her eyes for a moment, the air whipped against her skin and through her air in a freeing, refreshing flow.
Nyree didn't even bother to halt as she came closer to the Meeting place. Her foot clicked, shifting the repuslors over. Nyree jerked the joystick upward, the speeder climbed up the side of the wall, its sheer face was nothing to the space physics. As she reached the top, the speeder stalled out. Without a thought, Nyree swung herself off the speeder, it sputtered before careening down towards the bottom again. Her body crashed through the window, landing on the carpeted floor. She rose up to her feet.
"F&%k bitches get money," Nyree shouted with the bass music that blasted from her as her compatriots came into the room. She dusted off her
ripped, lace jeans and
tube top under her
gold body chain. "Sup, hoes?"
Scherezade deWinter
Kamyrin Gyvolis
Hego Hill