An unexpected encounter
08 Dec 2015Desert Fox CXVII
I'd picked her up in a place called the Bleeding Crown; it was a pretty pretentious name, as if it was trying to be something it wasn't. It had been full of gangsters, crooked politicians, bored trophy wives and sheltered trust fund babies trying to look hard. But the music was good and the drinks were strong, so it suited me just fine. When I say that I picked her up, I really mean that she picked me up; I had been sitting alone, nursing my drink and watching the horizon shift from blue to purple as the sun set. Just as I finished lighting my cigarette, she walked up, a drink in her hand and a smirk on her lips. She was all curves and attitude, with hair the color of a brown dwarf and one of those high end prosthesis in place of her left arm.
I took a long drag on my cigarette and looked her up and down, eyes lingering a little too long on her hips. She didn't seem to mind; just stood there, her smirk getting deeper by the second.
"You don't look like the rest of them here, do you?" She spoke with a think lower bubble accent, the syllables blending and flowing over each other. The sound is out of place in this environment, surrounded by the rich and not-quite-famous. But even in her short black dress and manicured nails, it fit.
I give her another once over, catching the edge of a tattoo peeking from the hem of her dress. "Neither do you."
She laughs, throwing her head back and exposing her throat. "I suppose I don't, do I?" I shift slightly in my seat and clear my throat. That damn smirk got deeper still.
Without asking, she sinks into the armchair across from me and crosses her legs, never breaking eye contact with me. "You going to offer me one of those?" She asks, gesturing at the cigarette between my fingers.
With my free hand, I retrieve the pack from inside my jacket and toss it onto the table between us, intent not to look away from her gaze.
The sun finally drops below the horizon, and in that brief moment of darkness, she strikes a match, the small flickering light casting ominous shadows over her features. Her grey eyes sparkle in the glow of the cigarette, still fixed intently on me, like some kind of predator observing its prey.
And then the lights kick on, and the moment is gone. She throws the match in the ashtray and takes a long drag on the cigarette, her lipstick leaving two crimson stains on the filter.
"So whats a good, respectable, Imperial boy doing in a place like this?"
I down the rest of my whiskey and gesture for another. "What makes you think I'm respectable?"
She smiles; not that smirk she'd been wearing since she walked up, but an actual smile, complete with teeth as white as Boudica. "I can tell. It's easy to read people, once you know what to look for."
The waiter arrives with my drink. I thank him, but still never take my eyes off the woman. "Oh? What else can you read about me?"
She regards me for a few seconds, her smirk back in place. "Military man. An officer, I'd say." She pauses again. "You're armed, so either you're paranoid, or you feel naked without it. Either way, you always keep a weapon within arms reach. Which means you've been in a situation where you needed a weapon, but didn't have one. I'm guessing that's how you got that." She points at the round scar underneath my cheekbone. "You don't sleep well, probably because of the nightmares, and you-"
"Enough."
For the first time since we walked up, that smirk falters, replaced by an expression of regret and concern. "I'm sorry; I can get carried away sometimes. I just-"
I wave in dismissal, the cigarette in my hand leaving a thin trail of smoke. "It's fine." She looks relieved, and takes a drag from her cigarette to cover her reaction."How did you know? About the nightmares?"
She hesitates, but I raise my eyebrows at her, and she gets the message. "Well, a soldier doesn't get to be your age..." I frown at that, and that damn smirk of hers returns. "Not that you're old. You're just not a young man anymore. It's alright; I like a man who's got... experience." She takes a sip of her drink, still not looking away from me, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "But as I was saying, a soldier doesn't get to your age unless they're a coward, or they're smart. You don't look like a coward to me. Since you're one of the smart ones, I'd say you've seen combat."
I nod slowly, sipping on my drink. "A little cliche, but accurate nonetheless."
She laughs again. "See? I told you."
We spent the rest of the evening speaking about everything except ourselves. Didn't even tell each other our names. I did let slip that I was a pilot, however, which seemed to intrigue her to no end. Eventually I offered to show her my ship, which I swear was still her idea. So I paid my tab and left with her on my arm.
-------
"There she is." I say, gesturing grandiosely towards Night Witch. There she stood, with a fresh coat of black paint and deckhands crawling all over her. She had taken a few dings the last time I took her out, but it seemed the damage was almost repaired.
"Oh, she's beautiful. Oh but what have you done to her?" She exclaims, her eyes falling on the exposed drive cores, which were still riddled with cannon shot.
"oh that?" I say with a dismissive wave of my hand. "Rookie pirates with more guns than sense. Pulled me out of supercruise and started screaming at me to vent my cargo."
"What were you hauling?"
It was my turn to laugh. "Absolutely nothing at all. Like I said, more guns than sense."
She responds with a nervous chuckle. "Did you...?" She trails off.
"Yup. Ship is slag, and he's off floating somewhere with his moisture getting sucked out through his eyeballs." She turns a sickly shade of green at my words, and it is my turn to be embarrassed. "Sorry, I tend to get carried away as well." I pause, trying to find a way to change the subject. "Would you like to see the inside?"
"Oh yes, please."
I nod, and lead her to the gangway. "Lisa, permission for two souls to come aboard?"
Permission granted, Commander. Welcome home.
I gesture for her to step onto the gangway, and as she starts to move her foot, I throw my hand out in front of her. "Right foot first, love. Bad luck to step onto a ship with your left."
She looks at me, obviously curious, but doesn't press for further information. With an exaggerated motion, she lifts her right foot and plants it on the first step of the gangway. Satisfied, I follow her, and we pass through the airlock into Night Witch.
I'm not going to go into details about what happened next. You can probably guess. But I can tell you that I never expected to see her again. Oh how wrong I was...