DemureDryad
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 21, 2011
- Posts
- 301
*POSITION FILLED BY MAKA*
OOC: this is a ROMANCE thread. They are going to have to be around each other for more than thirty seconds before they start having hot, steamy sex.
(But eventually, thats a huge plus. 
) The plot looks more complicated than it is, so don't be intimidated. That said, I need someone who will put a legitimate effort into their posts. Quality over quantity, please. I'm looking for 4-6 paragraphs per post, unless there are extenuating circumstances. PM me any questions you have, Im happy to answer them, or you can get creative! ^^
As a general rule, star wars terminology and technology apply in this universe.
The bass of the music pounded in her ears, and she watched as the denizens of the club danced. The electronic, synthesized beat had never been to her taste. But then, neither was dancing. Kat Swanson sat at a table, her legs crossed, a cosmopolitan held in her feminine fingers primly, as the colored lasers swept the room in a seemingly random, energetic pattern. A heeled foot tapped to the rhythm, though she took no joy from the music. She was dressed in the fashionable attire of young women on the space station John Galt, the short shimmersilk dress clinging to her curves and the tall boots molding to the shape of her calves. The dancers in the cages above wore even less.
At just twenty-four years old, she was a great deal younger than most in her profession. Her superiors had decided to take advantage of that fact, making sure she learned the arts of seduction and deception. It was shameful, she thought, how some men could soften after a little flash of leg and a doe-eyed stare. Well, soften in some respects, at least. Corporate espionage was, in some but not all ways, a simple game. Thankfully, they had never asked her to sleep with a man, though there was little else they had not ordered her to do. And on one or two occasions, she had lain with them of her own accord. She consoled herself regarding those two instances with the knowledge that, though her alias was a sham, her heart was true.
The lawlessness of the Galt, and the high demand for jobs, gave them no qualms about asking such a thing from their employees. The Galt was the biggest trade hub in the galaxy, and some of its citizens prospered. But most, lured by the myth of its wealth, crowded its halls and apartments, clamoring for work. And when they did find it, it was for far fewer credits than the other worlds. The Galactic Senate held no sway here. Money was the only law. The unimaginably massive station was a rotting husk of humanity, with a shiny veneer of pleasant comfort.
The Senates' lack of control had allowed a seedier element into the station as well. Smugglers had established themselves en masse, and the legitimate companies, based in the more legally binding areas of the galaxy, dealt openly with them. The cat and mouse game between the Republic security forces and the outlaws was as unceasing as it had always been. In the growing economic oppression of the modern Republic, they had even become sympathetic, romantic figures in the public eye. Kat had to admit, the idea of a freelance ruffian traversing the stars and dodging the law produced a dashing figure in her mind, even if it was for love of money. Most of those she had met did not fit that description, and they were too few to kill the stereotype in the eyes of the people. The low prices they offered were the only way for many families to buy food.
They needed a hero, even if that hero was a myth. I might need something like a hero to save me from this damnable club... A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed heavily. Her wryness hid real pain. The fact was, she just might need a genuine hero from the smuggler ranks.
For years her employer, AgriCorp, had threatened to kill her mother if she ever left, or if she ever compromised their secrets to competitors or the press. Especially, but not excluding, their excessive bribing of senators. Sometimes she would tell her how she hated her profession, though she was forbidden from saying much more. Her mother always replied, without fail, by telling her, 'Katerina Swanson, you have no idea how lucky you are. Just the other day I had to give the Frank's children bread...' And yet, she had died of natural causes. There was nothing stopping her now. As an only child, her only remaining connection was her job. And she was about to burn that bridge too.
Blinking back tears, she took a rather overzealous swig of her cocktail, coughing lightly. She had ordered it strong, and the bartender had not been playing around.
They would come for her soon. She was a liability now. She knew of their bio engineered diseases, devastating whole crops of food on agricultural planets and driving up their prices. AgriCorp was making money hand over fist. Who was she to compromise that? The only question was, who would make the first move. Kat had watched the bastards mock the rules for the last time. How the galaxy suffered for their mockery. That, coupled with the insulting threat of violence, and you had a very, very disgruntled employee.
Her orders had been to meet with a Galactic Fuel accountant, liqueur him up, and find out which senators they had bought this election cycle. But she had sliced into the computer system and changed them. Months of planning had gone into this moment, at this infernal club. Wide blue-green eyes swept the room, looking for the man she had actually came here to see... Nothing yet.
Kat made a show of rummaging around in her purse. To satisfy her paranoia, she checked to make sure the vials of AgriCorps' crop disease, the datapad full of intelligence that was immensely valuable to them, and her standard issue palm sized blaster pistol were still there. The stolen items would allow her to incriminate the company once she chose to release them to the press. But first, she had to disappear. Among those dangerous possessions was makeup, fake identification, and the various accessories any woman would keep in her purse. Not to mention over one hundred thousand credits in cash. The smuggler in question would doubtless demand compensation. Exorbitant compensation. The sum was a small fortune, more than he would ever dream of asking for.
The man she had chosen was of no interest to AgriCorp, dealing only in small, high value items. Why they had a file on him she couldn't say. He was competent and below their draconian eyes. The fact that he was... well, gorgeous... was beside the point. He was a money grubbing bastard with a fast ship, and that was all she required of him. She would stay with him, on his ship, while things calmed down. If she flashed enough credits, hopefully he wouldn't ask questions.
Kat caught herself biting her thumbnail, and reprimanded herself inwardly. She couldn't appear nervous. There was no telling if she was being tailed. Politely, she turned down the umpteenth man to offer her a drink. A restlessness grew in her. She couldn't sit anymore. Standing from the table, She walked toward the huge windows that opened into space. Her heels clicked on the textured metal floor as she walked, the lightweight material of her dress making her feel vulnerable. It was probably the fear talking.
The red giant took up at least half of the view, solar flares and sunspots filling her vision. A dull red glow filled this part of the club. Catching her reflection in the glass, she frowned at herself. She looked ridiculous... All dolled up in an attempt to lose her tail. She had done this far too often. It wasn't the real Kat.
She was glad that the music was not so loud here. The loners and drunks congregated in this little corner, basking in the ominous light of the dying star. She sat on a bench, crossing her legs and fixing the frustratingly short skirt. Impossible thing... As she looked up, she saw him, sticking out like a sore thumb. Those smugglers had no subtlety. He probably stepped off his ship and headed right for the club, in the same clothes he did whatever dirty tasks smuggling required in.
For now, he would know her only as Jesse. And 'Jesse,' a rich brat from the corporate sector, had a powerful desire to fly in a smuggler vessel, on her way to a pleasant vacation in the core worlds. She had the money to make him forget that she was an annoying bitch playing with daddy's blank check.
Putting on a coquettish little smile and offering him a girlish wave, she waited for him to approach her.
OOC: Appearance and boots in attachments below.
OOC: this is a ROMANCE thread. They are going to have to be around each other for more than thirty seconds before they start having hot, steamy sex.
(But eventually, thats a huge plus. ) The plot looks more complicated than it is, so don't be intimidated. That said, I need someone who will put a legitimate effort into their posts. Quality over quantity, please. I'm looking for 4-6 paragraphs per post, unless there are extenuating circumstances. PM me any questions you have, Im happy to answer them, or you can get creative! ^^As a general rule, star wars terminology and technology apply in this universe.
The bass of the music pounded in her ears, and she watched as the denizens of the club danced. The electronic, synthesized beat had never been to her taste. But then, neither was dancing. Kat Swanson sat at a table, her legs crossed, a cosmopolitan held in her feminine fingers primly, as the colored lasers swept the room in a seemingly random, energetic pattern. A heeled foot tapped to the rhythm, though she took no joy from the music. She was dressed in the fashionable attire of young women on the space station John Galt, the short shimmersilk dress clinging to her curves and the tall boots molding to the shape of her calves. The dancers in the cages above wore even less.
At just twenty-four years old, she was a great deal younger than most in her profession. Her superiors had decided to take advantage of that fact, making sure she learned the arts of seduction and deception. It was shameful, she thought, how some men could soften after a little flash of leg and a doe-eyed stare. Well, soften in some respects, at least. Corporate espionage was, in some but not all ways, a simple game. Thankfully, they had never asked her to sleep with a man, though there was little else they had not ordered her to do. And on one or two occasions, she had lain with them of her own accord. She consoled herself regarding those two instances with the knowledge that, though her alias was a sham, her heart was true.
The lawlessness of the Galt, and the high demand for jobs, gave them no qualms about asking such a thing from their employees. The Galt was the biggest trade hub in the galaxy, and some of its citizens prospered. But most, lured by the myth of its wealth, crowded its halls and apartments, clamoring for work. And when they did find it, it was for far fewer credits than the other worlds. The Galactic Senate held no sway here. Money was the only law. The unimaginably massive station was a rotting husk of humanity, with a shiny veneer of pleasant comfort.
The Senates' lack of control had allowed a seedier element into the station as well. Smugglers had established themselves en masse, and the legitimate companies, based in the more legally binding areas of the galaxy, dealt openly with them. The cat and mouse game between the Republic security forces and the outlaws was as unceasing as it had always been. In the growing economic oppression of the modern Republic, they had even become sympathetic, romantic figures in the public eye. Kat had to admit, the idea of a freelance ruffian traversing the stars and dodging the law produced a dashing figure in her mind, even if it was for love of money. Most of those she had met did not fit that description, and they were too few to kill the stereotype in the eyes of the people. The low prices they offered were the only way for many families to buy food.
They needed a hero, even if that hero was a myth. I might need something like a hero to save me from this damnable club... A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed heavily. Her wryness hid real pain. The fact was, she just might need a genuine hero from the smuggler ranks.
For years her employer, AgriCorp, had threatened to kill her mother if she ever left, or if she ever compromised their secrets to competitors or the press. Especially, but not excluding, their excessive bribing of senators. Sometimes she would tell her how she hated her profession, though she was forbidden from saying much more. Her mother always replied, without fail, by telling her, 'Katerina Swanson, you have no idea how lucky you are. Just the other day I had to give the Frank's children bread...' And yet, she had died of natural causes. There was nothing stopping her now. As an only child, her only remaining connection was her job. And she was about to burn that bridge too.
Blinking back tears, she took a rather overzealous swig of her cocktail, coughing lightly. She had ordered it strong, and the bartender had not been playing around.
They would come for her soon. She was a liability now. She knew of their bio engineered diseases, devastating whole crops of food on agricultural planets and driving up their prices. AgriCorp was making money hand over fist. Who was she to compromise that? The only question was, who would make the first move. Kat had watched the bastards mock the rules for the last time. How the galaxy suffered for their mockery. That, coupled with the insulting threat of violence, and you had a very, very disgruntled employee.
Her orders had been to meet with a Galactic Fuel accountant, liqueur him up, and find out which senators they had bought this election cycle. But she had sliced into the computer system and changed them. Months of planning had gone into this moment, at this infernal club. Wide blue-green eyes swept the room, looking for the man she had actually came here to see... Nothing yet.
Kat made a show of rummaging around in her purse. To satisfy her paranoia, she checked to make sure the vials of AgriCorps' crop disease, the datapad full of intelligence that was immensely valuable to them, and her standard issue palm sized blaster pistol were still there. The stolen items would allow her to incriminate the company once she chose to release them to the press. But first, she had to disappear. Among those dangerous possessions was makeup, fake identification, and the various accessories any woman would keep in her purse. Not to mention over one hundred thousand credits in cash. The smuggler in question would doubtless demand compensation. Exorbitant compensation. The sum was a small fortune, more than he would ever dream of asking for.
The man she had chosen was of no interest to AgriCorp, dealing only in small, high value items. Why they had a file on him she couldn't say. He was competent and below their draconian eyes. The fact that he was... well, gorgeous... was beside the point. He was a money grubbing bastard with a fast ship, and that was all she required of him. She would stay with him, on his ship, while things calmed down. If she flashed enough credits, hopefully he wouldn't ask questions.
Kat caught herself biting her thumbnail, and reprimanded herself inwardly. She couldn't appear nervous. There was no telling if she was being tailed. Politely, she turned down the umpteenth man to offer her a drink. A restlessness grew in her. She couldn't sit anymore. Standing from the table, She walked toward the huge windows that opened into space. Her heels clicked on the textured metal floor as she walked, the lightweight material of her dress making her feel vulnerable. It was probably the fear talking.
The red giant took up at least half of the view, solar flares and sunspots filling her vision. A dull red glow filled this part of the club. Catching her reflection in the glass, she frowned at herself. She looked ridiculous... All dolled up in an attempt to lose her tail. She had done this far too often. It wasn't the real Kat.
She was glad that the music was not so loud here. The loners and drunks congregated in this little corner, basking in the ominous light of the dying star. She sat on a bench, crossing her legs and fixing the frustratingly short skirt. Impossible thing... As she looked up, she saw him, sticking out like a sore thumb. Those smugglers had no subtlety. He probably stepped off his ship and headed right for the club, in the same clothes he did whatever dirty tasks smuggling required in.
For now, he would know her only as Jesse. And 'Jesse,' a rich brat from the corporate sector, had a powerful desire to fly in a smuggler vessel, on her way to a pleasant vacation in the core worlds. She had the money to make him forget that she was an annoying bitch playing with daddy's blank check.
Putting on a coquettish little smile and offering him a girlish wave, she waited for him to approach her.
OOC: Appearance and boots in attachments below.
Attachments
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