Thursday, February 12, 2015

Capella Prime
Capella
Capellan Confederation
19 January, 3050


     It was dark and rainy, pretty much the cliche atmosphere for this sort of thing. The DavRats had their infantry out patrolling the streets, but it was easy enough to blend in. They didn't really care, as long as you weren't shooting at them.

     She had already spent more time out roaming the streets searching for the right contacts than she would have liked, but it couldn't be helped. The people she was looking for were nervous right now. With the change in administration of the planet, there would be a feeling out process for the less-than-legal elements of Capella's society. Of course, she was banking on that.

     She entered the small restaurant and took a moment to let the rain from outside drip off before proceeding any further. She hadn't thought it possible, but it was darker inside this place than it was out on the street. The booths that lined the outer walls each had their own small lamp to light them, but the main lighting for the room itself was subdued.

     A small woman, dressed very traditionally in a dark green robe ushered Faith to a booth and set a small menu in front of her. Faith looked over the menu, even though she didn't need to. "I'll take the General Tso's Chicken" she said, making sure to make brief eye contact with the hostess. At least the owner had a sense of humor, using that ancient Terran dish as the code word. As she handed the menu back to the hostess, she slipped a small piece of paper underneath it. The woman shuffled gracefully off to the back of the establishment.

     Faith took a brief moment to survey they room. It was fairly late in the evening now, passing into night time, but there was still a family seated at one booth enjoying their meal. A few other lone patrons dotted the room, all of them looking as if they were actually there for the food. Of course, one never could tell. She, the blonde haired, blue-eyed Caucasian was the one that stuck out like a sore thumb in the Asian establishment.

     A few moments later, the hostess returned. "If you would follow me, the Grass Slipper would like a word" Faith followed the woman  into a narrow hallway. The hall snaked in several directions, with closed doors off to each side, before finally ending in a flight of descending stairs. At the base of the stairs was a door, guarded by two burly looking men. The guards sized her up briefly, before one opened the door to grant her admission.

     The room beyond was opulently decorated in traditional Chinese style. Like everywhere within this establishment, the lighting was subdued, but was subtly raised enough to show the decorations and furnishings. The smell of opium smoke hung in the air. The man she was here to see, the Grass Slipper, clearly wanted visitors to see his wealth and status, even if he was a only mid-level boss in Capella's organized crime scene.

     The man himself was of average size, but his dark, almond shaped eyes exuded his leadership and power. His clothing, perfectly tailored, was of the latest fashion trend in the Confederation. He sat back confidently in a large chair at the center of the far wall of the room. The left and right walls each featured several lieutenants or henchmen in their own chairs, a few with women attending to them, and all arranged so that they faced the Grass Slipper.

     "What is it that I may do for the armed forces of her most wise Celestial Wisdom, the Chancellor?" His words were practiced, showing the proper deference that all citizens should give to the Chancellor, but at the same time letting Faith know that this was his turf, not the Chancellors.

     "I'm looking for someone." She kept it short and sweet, unsure yet of how he planned on playing this out.

     "I'm sure I could make arrangements for you with any number of men that could bring you pleasure, but I'm afraid you must be more specific. And I would have though this a bad time for such liaisons, what with the evacuations and such." He smiled wryly, and gestured to a large and plush looking chair that sat in front of him. She accepted his offer and sank back in the chair.

     "That is not what I'm looking for. And besides, I don't pay for it."

     "Ah, no offense intended, my lady. I merely assumed. But, if not that, what is it that you seek before you leave us here at the mercy of the devil Hanse Davion?" He was playing more patriotic than he needed to, but it didn't bother her.

     "You are correct, we will be leaving soon. For a time. But when I leave, there is a certain person that I want to leave with me. I don't have the time or the means of locating her. You do. And so," she said with a smile, "Here I am."

     "I am glad that you think so highly of my business. And I assure you, under normal circumstances your request would not be a problem at all. But with the recent unpleasantness, you understand, my resources are taxed."

     "I'm sure. And with us leaving, your resources are going to be stretched even thinner. Of course, if I were to leave this planet happy, I might also happen to leave the locations where someone might find all sorts of items he might need to stay in business and keep the Davions off balance."

     He perked up at that. "So, Lady McCarron, if I were to find and spirit this person you seek away to you before you leave us, I would find myself in possession of the location of supply dumps of weapons and other things that I might find useful against the occupiers?"

     "And you would be in possession of those weapons even after we return to liberate this planet. Which, I'm sure you would recognize, would give you a leg up on anyone that you might happen to be rivals with. You win, I win, the Confederation wins." she waved her hand. "What's not to like?"

     He smiled. "Of course, always the Confederation and her Celestial Wisdom above all else. I am certain that we can locate this person that you seek." He snapped his fingers. "Pass along the details to my lieutenant here, and it shall be done. And now, my Lady, may I offer you a parting gift of our Great Tobacco? A finer product you will not find short of Sian itself. Something to encourage you to return in liberation as soon as is possible."

     She accepted the pipe from the servant who had appeared, along with the lamp, while the Grass Slipper was speaking. "Don't mind if I do..."

   

   


2 comments:

  1. My only criticism would be to use white text as opposed to black for easier reading.
    Though, it might just be me, I am an old codger.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I actually like the black text, although that has more to do with my Lasik.

    Keep it coming Faith. Good stuff.

    ReplyDelete