Chapter 37 – Taking the Pot
Vacy lifted her shoulders casually, as though she hadn't just been informed that her carefully-produced charade had fallen completely through. "My ties to the Republic, as you put it, are purely financial. I don't go in much for politics, because while I hear it's good money, from what I can tell it's a bunch of people in uncomfortable clothes who stand around and talk pretty all day." She wiggled around in the chair, and was pleased to see the Director's mouth pucker a bit more when she pulled her booted feet up beside her and snuggled in good. "You don't mind if I get comf'terble, do ya?"
His thin excuse for a smile did a great job of conveying his displeasure. "You still haven't answered my question, Miss Fiorst, and you're wearing my patience very thin. Why are you here?"
"Well y'see, Director," she replied, "your company is known to be a leader in its field. But of course, it ain't the only one. And there's other companies in the field that might've decided that besides developing their own products, it'd be awful useful to know what you're doin' so's they can do it better." She grinned cheekily. "So if you'll just tell me what you're doin', I'll be outta yer way."
"I'm terribly sorry to have to inform you that your efforts have been quite misplaced," he replied. He folded his hands together, a self-satisfied smirk pulling at his mouth. "I'm afraid that at this facility we don't do the sort of front-end research you're interested in. Here, we simply collect and process the data from a nearby archaeological expedition. And even that information is curated by our analysts in an office you will not be permitted access to, for reasons that I would hope are obvious even to someone of your limited intellectual capacity." The smirk widened. "I pray you'll forgive me."
You don't sound all that sorry, buster. Vacy folded her hands together atop her knee, mimicking him, and smirked right back. "But don't them analysts report back t'you? Surely there's some actual point to your job besides takin' up space in this mighty fine office you got here."
He tensed, ever so slightly, and Vacy knew she'd scored a hit. "Effective administration is what keeps this facility running at peak efficiency," he replied, a bit more stiffly than before. His eyes narrowed, flicking to his datapad, and then he reached for the intercom at the corner of his desk. "And it's time to stop playing games. I'm afraid your company, while amusing at first, has grown rather tiresome."
"Y'know, I was thinkin' just the same thing about you. But maybe a different game would liven things up a bit." She was delighted to see his eyes widen in surprise when she pulled Sparkles out of her boot-holster and pointed it at him. "It's called, 'I'VE Got a Gun, and YOU Don't.' I think it'll be just buckets of fun, don't you?"
"How – how did you get that in here?!" he sputtered. "That's – it's completely against protocol!"
It was getting really difficult to hold back her grin – so Vacy quit trying. "Yeah, well, I tend to view protocol as more of a… suggestion. Thing is, though, I think I'll be the one makin' suggestions at this point. First off is that you don't move, 'cept to put your hands on top of that shiny bald head of yours."
That shiny bald head was now criscrossed by a web of thin, pulsing veins as the Director seethed in helpless fury. He did, however, do as she said.
"Now that nice little secretary of yours downstairs promised that I'd get my guns back on my way out. Thing is, I somehow doubt that walkin' back out through the front doors is gonna be a good idea. So you're gonna use your comm to get our stuff sent on up, while I call up our reinforcements." She reached down further into her boot and pulled out a small controller, thumbing over the controls without once taking her gaze from the now-quivering man who sat across from her. As he reached for the intercom, her expression hardened. "Be very careful with what you say. We both know you're of more value to me alive, but that doesn't mean I've got to keep you in one piece."
Vacy saw frustration simmering toward rage, but the Director was an incredibly practical man, and her threat was perfectly reasonable. Most likely he had made similar threats of his own a time or two. So she merely watched carefully as he ordered her gear brought up – shook her head when personnel was mentioned, and was gratified to see that he immediately asked for it to be sent in a mouse droid instead.
When he closed the channel, she waved her gun at him, finger near the trigger. "Stand up." She waved the gun again, gesturing toward the wall. "Move over there."
"Wh-whatever for?" The angry flush drained from his face in a heartbeat, and his eyes widened.
So you're a coward at heart after all. Vacy slipped her finger against the trigger, felt the warm, comfortable tension there, and her mouth pulled into a small, quiet smile. "Now you haven't gone and forgot about our game, have you? See, at this point, I don't particularly need you anymore, so it might be a good idea to do as you're told."
His chin tilted up, eyes flashing. "I won't. You'll just kill me anyway."
Vacy rolled her eyes. Stars, but these Imps were stubborn. "Look, I would prefer not to kill you, in all honesty. It leaves an awful mess, and that's just rude." Without glancing away from the Director, she tilted Sparkles to the side, squeezed, and the intercom controls suddenly burst into sparks and smoke. One shoulder lifted lazily as she pointed the gun back at the man across the desk. "But I will if I have to. Now MOVE."
He moved.
Once he was standing near the wall, where there was a little more space, she nodded. She could see fear in the tightness of his jaw and desperation in his eyes; he clearly expected death at any moment. And while part of her rather enjoyed watching the arrogant bastard squirm, she knew that time was limited. "All right. Now strip." His eyes boggled even more, and she couldn't help grinning, but she wiggled Sparkles at him and he began unfastening his neatly fitted tunic. She cleared her throat delicately. "You, ah, you can keep your drawers," she added, and she wasn't sure if the pink that tinged his face was humiliation or renewed fury.
He was still fumbling with the laces on his trousers when the mouse droid beeped and whistled outside. She scrambled from her chair and found a defensible spot on the far side of the room, slightly behind a cabinet. "Open the door," she ordered.
Trousers sagging, the half-dressed Director waddled back to the desk and pressed his fingertips to a panel by the now-defunct intercom. "This is absolutely preposterous," he groused.
The little droid wheeled cheerfully into the room, but Vacy kept her focus on the Director, knowing that if he'd double-crossed her, this is when it would go down. "Pick it up and open the compartment." She kept Sparkles trained on him as he did, but apparently he'd followed her directions and the droid carried only her gear. "All right, now finish up and put your duds on the chair. Belt, boots, all of it."
He had just set his clothes down on the chair and backed away again, shivering in the cool, filtered air, when the whine of an airspeeder could be heard. A moment later, it rose into view just outside and hovered there, waiting. Come on, Bowdaar, Vacy prayed silently. Everything else is set.
The Director jabbed a spindly finger at the speeder. "You won't be able to get out that way. The controls for that field aren't even in this room!"
Fortunately, as if on cue, the room went dark and still. Vacy grinned as the speeder nosed its way inside. "Guess I don't have to worry about that, do I?" With her blaster still aimed at the Director, she tossed his clothes into the vehicle, then followed up with the mouse droid, which let out a startled beep as it bounced on the seat. She walked over to the desk and picked up the datapad, silencing the officious little man with an arched brow when he began to protest.
Vacy climbed onto the desk, and from there, up into the speeder. She leaned down to look at the Director. "So here's the thing. You know who I am, so maybe you'll think to put out word that this was my job. I'm all right with that, because from where I'm sitting, that makes me look like the sort of woman who gets a job done right. That's the kinda rep I want. But then again, that makes you look bad, so maybe you want to just hush it up. I figure, though, if you're gonna spread the word, I can help out a bit and shoot ya once or twice so's it don't seem like you screwed up s'bad," she explained cheerfully. "Makes me out to be even more intimidating, too," she added as she pointed Sparkles at him.
With an audible swallow, the Director shook his head. "N-nothing of the sort will be necessary. We'll just keep matters… quiet," he said.
Shrugging, Vacy nodded her reply. "Suit yourself." She put the speeder back on manual control and revved the engines. "Pleasure doin' business with you, sir!"
As she eased the vehicle back out into the open sky, she couldn't hear him over the roar of the thrusters. She wasn't too concerned about it, though. She didn't think his reply would have been all that polite anyhow.
Author's Note: It turns out that vacation means I write more! Hurray! AND the sudden drop in temperature has given me an opportunity to get more planning done. I am finally, finally seeing the end of the tunnel with this. It probably doesn't seem like a big deal to you guys, but it's the longest thing I've ever written in my life!
I'd originally planned to have each of the plot threads be its own story, as I'm much more comfortable with shorter pieces - as you all probably know already. *g* But then Kyla stood up and said she wanted to be a character, and the possibility of being mean to my protagonist was just ... well I couldn't pass it up! And even though we don't see all the interaction between Corso and Kyla when they're together (yet - I may write it, perhaps as an epilogue here, or if there's enough, as its own story), that's what forms the backbone of this story.
This chapter was fun. I've enjoyed writing Bowdaar and getting to know him better over the past two chapters, but getting back to Vacy's sass has felt like coming home.