"Good Neighbors"

[Guest Laarell]

The interior of the vessel was cold.

 

Logically, the frigid settings of the environmental controls served a dual purpose. On one hand, they saved a good amount of funds by not keeping the temperature higher than ten degrees Celsius.

 

Secondly, it was chilled to the point that when visitors would step onboard, they would unconsciously shiver. Newcomers to the OSV Taraalan'Liyan, the Pride of Orion, realized that they had no control over their surroundings whatsoever. They were at the mercy of their hosts -- or hostesses.

 

The corridors leading to the command center of the vessel were dimly lit, yet the gleaming surfaces of the metal reflected the small bit of illumination there was, seemingly increasing the existing light.

 

Guards posted at each entryway genuflected as a tall, slim, figure sauntered her way towards the nerve center of the Liyan. The footsteps of the two, hulking guards following a respectful distance behind thudded, a contrast to the noiseless footfall of the woman before them.

 

As a dark fluid, the dress' long train spread nearly a meter behind her as she moved, fanning from bulkhead to bulkhead with each step. The skirt tapered in the front to allow for freedom of the woman's movement, the gown's silhouette narrowing as well, formfitting by the time the rich folds of fabric reached her waist.

 

The deep jade of the Triaxian silk complemented the rich, verdant tones of her skin, the decadence of the cloth on its own marking her as a woman of importance. The cleavage displayed by the low neckline could have confused a non-Orion whose gaze didn't make its way up to her eyes. There, the cold, calculating stare of the hardened woman would have erased any questions concerning whether or not she was a mere spoiled slave.

 

"When they arrive, have them brought directly to me. The barest minimum of security precautions, not enough to make him -- or her -- feel uncomfortable." Caasia's low voice was contemplative, lazy as she spoke. A few more paces and she would be in the command center, but until then she'd be bound to the communication devices embedded in the halls.

 

Stepping into the command center, she shed her guards as the heavy doors closed behind her. The round console curved in an arc around her, all of the controls solely accessible from the single chair located in the only bridge-like area of the glorified cargo ship.

 

She could almost hear him nod. "As you desire, Mistress." The Orion female disengaged the communications system with a deft brush of her fingers. Not moving her hand from the console she idly ran a finger along its brushed silver lines.

 

The Coalition was to be paying a personal visit to the Six? Good one, considering the fact that they were the ones who'd thrown the Syndicate's firm organizational patterns into utter chaos.

 

And now they had returned once more to seek information from Caasia, though this time not through remote agents and subspace relays. No, for once they were sending a representative to meet her face-to-face. Properly, while her ship was docked at Mingavon.

 

Caasia sit back in her thronelike command chair, leaning her chin on a delicate finger. What might the Coalition be interested in? Why were they at Mingavon? Questions that needed to be answered, and preferably, before the Coalition representative arrived on board. Without answers, she would not be in control of the situation, and after all, every form of power relies on control.

Edited May 14, 2006 by Laarell