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Guest Laarell

"Revenge: A Composition in Green"

Corizon, Lieutenant Weber decided, was not just a self-centered, oversexed, ice-hearted, arrogant bastard. He was also a dribbling moron if he let this... vapid little green whore... pretend like she was part of his crew. Frankly, she wasn't certain what was more infuriating -- the fact that the pup had dared to think about stealing from her facility, or that he thought she was such an idiot that she wouldn't find out about brilliant Miss Syndicate 2383 "organizing" the whole affair. God, she hated that dog.


She glared at the Orion, who was currently pouting and massaging her jaw, and rolled her eyes. For all Corizon's faults, Fiona would have expected at least a little bit of better taste. Oh well. If he was going to entrust his little concubine with an important mission, she would take advantage of the fact.


"I don't know what you -- or Brutes One and Two over there -- are talking about," she whined. "I wasn't asking for any information. The bartender was lying."


"You must think me a great fool, Miss Teykier," Fiona remarked lightly, pulling a chair over to the Orion's. "It is possible, of course, that he simply had a... dislike of Orions -- not that I would have any idea why, of course," she added, wrinkling her nose, "but the fact remains that you are wanted for several crimes within the Empire's borders. It seems more likely that you are the one lying."


"I don't know what you're talking about."


"Let me see, here..." Weber pulled out a padd, scrolling through it leisurely. "More charges of piracy than I care to enumerate, several charges of murder, theft, and elusion of planetary and Starfleet security, treason, aggravated assault, not to mention several bartabs left unpaid."


"I... I haven't done any of those things!" Laarell asserted firmly. "I'm an entertainer -- a dancer, if you must know, and I was just passing through and getting a drink..."


"I know perfectly well who you are and what you are doing here, and if you'd stop this masquerade of... well, hardly innocence, but noninvolvement, it will go much more bloodlessly."


A muscle twitched in the Orion's jaw, and she glared fully at Weber. "I can't believe that you have the gall to try this nonsense. I'm innocent, and when Ah-Windu finds out what you've done..." She paused, face freezing in fear. Shock. The little Orion couldn't even keep her story straight for five minutes.


Fiona smiled.


"I mean... I don't know what you're talking about," she tried weakly.


"Now that we've established your... involvement with our dear... friend, Mister Corizon," Fiona continued, "perhaps we can get down to business."


"B... business?" the Orion asked, starting to leave "pouting" behind and resort to "nervous".


"Yes. The unfinished kind. Your lover and I have some very unfinished business, darling," Fiona said, condescendingly. "He took something from me that I am very, very displeased about."


Laarell's now-revealed-as-an-act fell away for a moment, and she smirked. "I can't imagine what," she remarked, dryly, and promptly found herself backhanded.


"You needn't think anything inappropriate, little whore, even if it is all you know. Thanks to the puppy holding your leash, I'm out here in this nightmarish place, reduced in rank, and humiliated."


"I could shed a tear."


"You should," Fiona hissed, then softened, her smile turning vicious. "But your puppy isn't free from karma -- now I have the chance to destroy something of his."


Laarell arched an eyebrow. "Do you intend to kill me?" she asked, conversationally.


"Eventually -- after I get my hands on Corizon. I imagine he'll be quite anxious to recover his little pet. And, of course, after you explain his scheme to me in full detail."


"I have so much reason to cooperate, then," Laarell remarked.


"Since your other alternative is torture before death, I suggest you do." Her eyes nearly glinted. "I need something to practice on before Ah-Windu gets here."

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