Thread: Heartless Alliance (Mr Master and Oreo)

She turned and walked away from him, apparently into the control room. He took a look around the rounded, almost melted-looking ship, clearly organic in nature, and wasn't sure if he trusted being left behind like this. She was a wild card, but she at least seemed to have a reasonably negotiable mind-set. Following, he took in the reasonably featureless command center, wondering how exactly such a complex ship might even be commanded. Couldn't she just give the AI orders from wherever she was? He saw her step on a panel, and then a fuzzy illuminated field sprung up around her. He'd seen a holofield in action, but most human builders put theirs inside booths or something it was easier to keep the projection parameters maintained, and you didn't risk falling outside of the pickup zone. To see one free-form in the air like this was surprising, thought not impossible. Still, it spoke of a higher tech level, and once again, he felt out-classed. He watched her move and saw her suddenly... well, grow or manifest a dress of some sort, something slinky and black and altogether alluring. The secret of clothes as aesthetics, of course, was that they hinted, suggested, and teased. She poked her face out of the holofield and said You could have told me your species prefers organic coverings, Frodo. I'm not your research staff, he retorted, but she was already back in the field and talking to this Captain Erhart. It was like listening to one side of any other com call, except that he could see the light squiggles change in the field around her. They were tuned to be fully resolved only from within the field, so he couldn't tell what they were at all. He stood around, frustrated, looking at the woman. I pose no threat to you , she said, but her words of gaping craters still stuck in his head. Was there anything this creature said that could be trusted? ...perhaps a jump drive of which, I have recently come in possession? I am most eager to unload it. Oh, low blow, Lya. he muttered, loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough to draw her out of the conversation. When she jolted and leaned out of the field, she favored him with a glare, and he returned it right back. She may have held... well, the entire deck, but he wasn't going to give up his hand quite yet. This might turn into a great day yet, with or without you Mr Underhill, she said before returning to her conversation. Don't count your chickens, he muttered, knowing she would have no idea of what the idiom was referring to, but disinclined to explain it, even if she had asked. He listened to her spiel, making her promises, talking about payment. When she spoke of slaves, he blanched. Officially, the Federated Alliance outlawed slavery and didn't respond well to slavers. The secret practices of some member worlds or some high-ranking officials was ignored when it came to this policy, and the concept of indentured servitude was still alive and well, but official response was fairly mandated, and Lya was walking into a danger zone without the least awareness of it. He couldn't help but comment on it. Jesus, Lya, don't you do any research whatsoever? Just then, the ship shocked her again. The fleet that arrived earlier...they're Reticulans. Pardon me for bothering you but it seemed worthy enough to mention. Getting a look at her expression, and hoping that it corresponded with human emotions, he got worried as well. Reticulans... never met one, but I've heard of the species. Am I to take it they don't much like you? Maybe I've got something in common with them after all... Actually, that wasn't fair he didn't dislike her. But she was the sole cause of his entire current troubles, whereas things just seemed to happen to her willy-nilly. If he could retrieve his hidden property and bail out, he'd be out of her hair-analogue, but seeing how she did business, he couldn't very well just ask for it. His argument hinged on actual legal authority, but she wasn't the type to pay much attention to that, he was finding, so he was at something of a loss as to how to approach his goal, now.