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Guest Laarell

"The Intruder"

Set before the April 19 sim.


Even though his quarters were dark, Corizon was immediately aware of an unexpected guest within them. Since said guest put out enough pheromones that even a human was generally aware of them, there really wasn't any way he could miss them if he wanted to.


"Corizon," the Orion purred, stretching as she got up from the bed she'd made herself at home upon until the captain's appearance. "There you are. I hope you don't mind my letting myself in..." She smiled sweetly, playing a clearly black-market access key in her fingers. Occasionally, making oneself the companion of the chief engineer had its perks.


His long, clawed fingers reflexively gripped at the sword handle hanging loosely from his black leather-clad hips. "Actually," he said with cold, yellow eyes. "I do."


Laarell sighed. "Don't be unkind. I only wanted to speak to you about the mission. Privately." She put on a little pout, doing her best not to smirk. "You really musn't be so volatile."


"Unamused" didn't start to broach his feeling on the subject. "Get the hell out here before I toss you out the damned airlock."


Laarell sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I'll wait until you're in and knock next time." She considered for a moment. "While I'm here, can I at least get you a drink?"


The Dameon's fingers were still tightly gripped on the leather-wrapped sword handle and his expression remained entirely the same -- the man clearly didn't like the idea of the Orion harlot sneaking into his quarters. "No," he growled. "You can leave. And leave that little card you snarfed from your spotted lover on the table as you do."


"Very well," she answered tightly. She was not about to lose her temper with Corizon. "I was planning to leave it anyway." She glared for a moment before continuing. "And the least you could do before sending me off on a bloody suicide mission is speak with me about it. I read your 'friend's' dossier. She's a psychopath. I'd be surprised if you aren't just trying to get me killed."


"Don't lecture me, you little slut," he said. "I invited you to dinner for the express purpose of telling you all about the mission. You're lucky, at the moment, that I don't just kill you now and save Fiona the trouble."


"Why don't you, then? And don't call me a slut." She crossed her arms, trying not to snap further. "I'm sorry. Captain." She softened slightly, looking less furious and more tired. "I just don't like the feeling that I'm being used as an expendable pawn."


"You are an expendable pawn. Get over it."


"You son of a bitch," she hissed. "I've done more for this ship... I've given you a damned large amount of information on the Syndicate, and I've been managing my department more than proficiently, and you flat out call me expendable?"


"Oh, shut up. Everyone on this damned ship is expendable. I don't care if you're the leader of the damned Orion Syndicate and I don't giving a flying wombat's ass what you've done for me lately. If you do your job right, you live. Screw up.... well that's one less share to have to split for everyone else."


"That's my point. There really isn't a way I can do this job right. And why send me to do it?" She stopped, steeling herself for a moment, trying not to sound so pleading. "I mean -- there are plenty of people on the ship who could pull this off. Why send one who's a potentially valuable resource?"


"You have an inflated view of your value," he snorted. "If you don't want to go, just say so. I'll consider whether or not refusing an order is insubordination or not based upon how much work it is using plan b."


"No," she replied, defeatedly. "I'll do it. Despite all the rumors on this damned ship, I am loyal," she pointed out, "and I follow orders."


"Then why are you still here? I told you to get the hell out of my quarters and leave that illicit card you got in here with on my table ten minutes ago."


"I... I don't know. I wanted to talk, like I said. I didn't mean for it to be so incendiary." She shook her head slightly, looking away. "I'm sorry I disturbed you."


"Try maybe, next time, not breaking into my quarters. You're lucky I didn't kill you on sight. Which I will do next time."


"If there is a chance for a next time," she answered, a little ruefully, turning back to the door. "If you change your mind about the drink, let me know," she murmured.


"I won't. Get out."


"Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir," she answered curtly, disappearing into the corridor.

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