Scarlett O'Hara
Not Elda in the Red Dress
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2003
- Messages
- 640
“CAPTAIN!” announced the ship loudly and formally. “He is approaching. One moment our sensors detected a ripple and then....” P’Mela interrutped irritably “Who the hell is he, Te’Zsing? Be specific.” she ordered. She had only just emerged from her long soak and was patting dry with a thick warm towel. So many dreams, nightmares, visions over hundreds of years and now she was finally beginning to understand why and how. And she was in a murderous mood! Repeating her remarks even more forceably and rudely “SHIP! Who is approaching?” There was a moment of silence and the ship, humbled, said routinely “Captain WarMaster Aik Haw. He is approaching in a ship of unknown configuration, but with proper j‘Son‘jon clearance codes. He commands us....” P’Mela said softly, calmly “Permission to dock with us is denied the WarMaster Captain. Give him my regards and tell him to go to Hell. I no longer need or want his assistance.”
“But Boro’Ches, he is a WarMaster Captain, our Superior Commander!” replied Te’Zsing in an astonished voice. “He is our...” P’Mela calmly replied “I know who and what he is, Ship. Permission to dock is denied. Tell him that he is no longer needed, or welcomed, aboard any ship of mine.” She calmly walked to her bedroom, opened her closet and began to patiently search through her clothes. A smile played on her face as she found the one she knew she would wear when she finally agreed to Aik Haw’s presence! It was always this game they played. But the current Te’Zsing’s personality matrix had never seen them together, or playing this game. Only this time, she knew far more than she had ever known before. Something in her mind had released, and she knew who she was, where she was from, and how most of it had happened. She would serve revenge to this particular j’Son’jon WarMaster Captain and make up for all her people. All the people of her real homeworld slaughtered through the centuries by the Empire, his empire, not hers! It mattered not that he had been her Sonjon mentor, lover, friend or senior officer. He would be the first one she killed with her reacquired knowledge and memories. And as they say Vengence is a dish best served cold.
As she listened to the interplay between Te’Zsing and Aik Haw’s ship, then himself personally, she engaged in her rituals. Or rather the rituals she had thought was hers for over 700 years! First a leisurely manicure and pedicure; then a long massage of herbal moisturizer (the last of her supply!); and still she listened to the communication chatter. Occasionally she laughed out loud at the irritation in Aik Haw’s voice. He was so predictable! The orders, the reminders of rank and priviledge, then irritation and threats. Always the same. It would be the death of him, his predicatability. Slowly, she applied the tribal eye makeup. Of course, that too was a lie implanted in her memory so long ago. These really were not her homeworld rituals but over the course of 700 years, they had become relaxing and reassuring. So she continued.
Fingering the extremely sheer material of the chemise, she first donned the pale yellow thobs and slowly fastened the lavender and white braiding at each ankle and her waist. Then she pulled on the matching yellow chemise, leaving the hood hanging loosely behind her and fastened the braiding on each wrist. This outfit was the sheerest of all her clothes. It left nothing to the imagination. But beautiful and feminine, random clusters of delicate ribbon embroidery were strategically placed for the hint of modesty. But there was no modesty in this attire. She admired herself in the mirror and laughed. Brushing her hair vigorously and preparing it for covering with the hood, she realized that this really wasn’t necessary for a Sonjon. Inferior butchers and murderers. Defiantly she shook her hair loose.
Finally ready, she announced softly “Te’Zsing, send my personal apologies to the WarMaster Captain. I will greet his ship at the docking collar.” She laughed loudly when Te’Zsing replied testily “WHAT?” (the result of two hours of arguing with another sentient ship and captain, no doubt!). Then catching his mistake Te'Zsing replied respectfully “Yes, Captain.” But he didn’t cut communications right away. The ship let her hear his mumbling. She smiled at her ship and his personality so well defined. This was going to be fun. Just thinking about watching a Sonjon’s reaction to her change would be worth 700 years of deception!
As Lady P’Mela Piaue LeonDocTchi, Heir to the Raegel Kentaurus throne, checked her reflection one last time, she smiled. This was going to be fun! She would make WarMaster Captain Aik Haw pay for every j'Son'jon misdeed inflicted on her people! And she would enjoy every moment of it, every sensation of it, when she killed him. She had decisions to make before she reached the docking collar! She had never enjoyed planning a killing of an enemy with this much pleasure before. She was beginning to feel like she really was a Boro'Ches!
“But Boro’Ches, he is a WarMaster Captain, our Superior Commander!” replied Te’Zsing in an astonished voice. “He is our...” P’Mela calmly replied “I know who and what he is, Ship. Permission to dock is denied. Tell him that he is no longer needed, or welcomed, aboard any ship of mine.” She calmly walked to her bedroom, opened her closet and began to patiently search through her clothes. A smile played on her face as she found the one she knew she would wear when she finally agreed to Aik Haw’s presence! It was always this game they played. But the current Te’Zsing’s personality matrix had never seen them together, or playing this game. Only this time, she knew far more than she had ever known before. Something in her mind had released, and she knew who she was, where she was from, and how most of it had happened. She would serve revenge to this particular j’Son’jon WarMaster Captain and make up for all her people. All the people of her real homeworld slaughtered through the centuries by the Empire, his empire, not hers! It mattered not that he had been her Sonjon mentor, lover, friend or senior officer. He would be the first one she killed with her reacquired knowledge and memories. And as they say Vengence is a dish best served cold.
As she listened to the interplay between Te’Zsing and Aik Haw’s ship, then himself personally, she engaged in her rituals. Or rather the rituals she had thought was hers for over 700 years! First a leisurely manicure and pedicure; then a long massage of herbal moisturizer (the last of her supply!); and still she listened to the communication chatter. Occasionally she laughed out loud at the irritation in Aik Haw’s voice. He was so predictable! The orders, the reminders of rank and priviledge, then irritation and threats. Always the same. It would be the death of him, his predicatability. Slowly, she applied the tribal eye makeup. Of course, that too was a lie implanted in her memory so long ago. These really were not her homeworld rituals but over the course of 700 years, they had become relaxing and reassuring. So she continued.
Fingering the extremely sheer material of the chemise, she first donned the pale yellow thobs and slowly fastened the lavender and white braiding at each ankle and her waist. Then she pulled on the matching yellow chemise, leaving the hood hanging loosely behind her and fastened the braiding on each wrist. This outfit was the sheerest of all her clothes. It left nothing to the imagination. But beautiful and feminine, random clusters of delicate ribbon embroidery were strategically placed for the hint of modesty. But there was no modesty in this attire. She admired herself in the mirror and laughed. Brushing her hair vigorously and preparing it for covering with the hood, she realized that this really wasn’t necessary for a Sonjon. Inferior butchers and murderers. Defiantly she shook her hair loose.
Finally ready, she announced softly “Te’Zsing, send my personal apologies to the WarMaster Captain. I will greet his ship at the docking collar.” She laughed loudly when Te’Zsing replied testily “WHAT?” (the result of two hours of arguing with another sentient ship and captain, no doubt!). Then catching his mistake Te'Zsing replied respectfully “Yes, Captain.” But he didn’t cut communications right away. The ship let her hear his mumbling. She smiled at her ship and his personality so well defined. This was going to be fun. Just thinking about watching a Sonjon’s reaction to her change would be worth 700 years of deception!
As Lady P’Mela Piaue LeonDocTchi, Heir to the Raegel Kentaurus throne, checked her reflection one last time, she smiled. This was going to be fun! She would make WarMaster Captain Aik Haw pay for every j'Son'jon misdeed inflicted on her people! And she would enjoy every moment of it, every sensation of it, when she killed him. She had decisions to make before she reached the docking collar! She had never enjoyed planning a killing of an enemy with this much pleasure before. She was beginning to feel like she really was a Boro'Ches!
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