"Formal Introductions"

[Guest Fiona Weber]

Four years ago

 

Corizon looked up into the dim lighting. Wiping the blood off his mouth with his left hand, he looked towards the female figure who'd spent the last ten minutes 'introducing' herself to him. Funny way of showing how 'kind, considerate, and just' she could be, but then he expected nothing less from Imperials, like this one.

 

"So now that you know a bit about me," she commented, airily, "why don't you tell me something about yourself?" She smirked. "Oh, wait -- let me see if I can get this right. You didn't know what you were really doing when you killed all of those humans, hmm? Spur of the moment decisions, not intentional, accidental?" She retook a seat across from him, folding her arms neatly. "What's your sad, sad story?"

 

A fanged smile crossed his face as it lit up with a grin. "I don't like senseless killings. I most certainly knew what I was doing, having thought about it, planned it, and executed it with coldness. Sorry to disappoint, but the only crying in my story comes from the victims."

 

"Hmm." She leaned forward with clinical interest. "So you enjoy killing."

 

"It's a job," he shrugged.

 

"So you're not even going to play the part of the penitent fool?" Fiona frowned slightly, as if disappointed. "Pity. Attempted reformation is usually amusing."

 

"You're implying that I have reservations, regrets about my past -- I don't."

 

"That makes two of us." She stood, face hardening, and paced until she was behind the Dameon. "Do you know what's going to happen to you, dog? You've killed the wrong people if they sent you here, and I for one don't take kindly to subhumans who decide to tear the throats out of their betters. Now," she purred, "this center is devoted to... rehabilitation, and it's my job to make certain that does indeed occur. If you're a..." Fiona couldn't resist a smirk, "good dog, then you will live moderately well here, and when you do eventually realize your errs, you may even be released."

 

"And if you don't..." She knelt down beside the Dameon, and smiled. her voice soft, inaudible if she hadn't been next to his ear, "Well, Earthers have a habit of shooting dogs with bad tempers."

 

Humans, he thought to himself. They were egotistical, xenophobic and arrogant. Apparently they'd missed the memo that they weren't the alpha species in the galaxy and that it was simply a matter of time before the Romulans enslaved the lot of them.

 

Granted, her threats weren't idle, but that she was already threatening him was telling. "I assure you, you have nothing to worry about from me. Not like I am going to start up a prison riot."

 

"Perhaps not." Fiona straightened, and finished her inspection of her latest "acquisition". "But you're just foolish enough that you might think you could escape -- or perhaps just clever enough to be a thorn in my side, even if you don't. I certainly wouldn't want you to face the consequences," she added, with mock sincerity.

 

An inward smirk hidden from view on his face, he wondered if she'd considered that he could, if he so chose, kill her faster than she could call for the guard. Perhaps he should remind her? Perhaps not. "Frankly," he said coldly. "I don't care who you are, what agenda you have or even if you like to play with your prisoners to make yourself feel more superior. I am a professional killer who does what he is told; I screwed up and got careless on my last mission. So for now, I am here. I'll learn to live with it."

 

If she had, she gave no indication of it. "Good. We'll have no problems, then." Fiona paused. "The guards will set you up in your... quarters. I'm glad we had this little talk." She headed for the door, turning before it opened. "And, pup? I don't play with any of your filth."

 

Someone's mind was in the gutter.

 

This was going to be easier than he thought.

Edited March 8, 2009 by Fiona Weber