Post by Geneenh T'Loris on Mar 20, 2017 19:04:54 GMT -6
The maître d’, a human male, looked at her with an air of practiced superiority.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Geneenh stood at the entrance to the latest “it” restaurant, wearing a dress that cost a small fortune. It was businesslike yet tight in certain areas and revealing in others, the standard uniform for any woman who wanted to fit in on Illium. It was all about appearance on the planet that served as a gateway to asari space, even though just underneath it was as dangerous as Omega.
In many ways it was worse than the unofficial capital of the Terminus Systems. On Omega, the lawlessness and cheap value of life was readily apparent, whereas on Illium it hid behind a thin veneer of civilization.
“Yes, I’m here to see Mr. Ydobon,” she said, inwardly rolling her eyes at the code name for her contact.
Such a flimsy name—“nobody” spelled backwards—was the sign of an unimaginative mind, but for the money she was getting paid she could put up with it.
The job was simple: hack into a corporation’s R&D section and download all of their projects still in development and deliver it to one of their competitors. Nothing more than common corporate espionage—mundane, something hardly worth her time—but she was getting paid well above what she usually charged.
Besides, the best care for a special needs person was expensive.
Her contact had insisted on a face-to-face meeting to exchange the data for the money. Normally she didn’t do such a thing, but again for the excessive amount of credits she was willing to make an exception.
The maître d’ escorted her to her client, a middle-aged human man.
“Did you bring it?” he asked.
“It’s safe,” she said. “Did you bring my fee?”
The man hesitated a moment before answering, “I need to see it before I pay you.”
“Seriously?” she said. “You’re negotiating now?”
She leaned forward.
“I could take what I have to any of your competitors and they would gladly pay me my fee, probably even more,” she said.
Spotting a waiter at a nearby table, she gestured for his attention and he held up a finger.
“You have until our waiter arrives to decide,” she said. “Then I walk, and you’ll never see me again.”
The man licked his lips and looked away.
The waiter finished at the other table and approached.
“You need what I have more than I need what you have,” she said. “Here he comes.”
As the waiter arrived, she stood up and walked away.
“Wait!” he said a little too loudly, drawing glances from a few nearby tables.
“Could you give us a minute please?” he said to the waiter, who nodded and stepped away.
She took her seat.
He reached into his suit, pulled out a credit chit and slid it across the table.
She scanned it with her omnitool, and it was in the amount he had promised.
She reached into the small purse she carried, pulled out an OSD and slid it across the table.
“Is it all there?” he asked.
“Every last detail,” she said. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
*****
As she left the restaurant, she was greeted by four police officers.
The leader, a turian female, stepped forward, her hand on her pistol.
“Come with us,” she said.
“I’d like to contact my attorney,” she said.
“Turn around,” the officer said, a little more firmly.
Geneenh said nothing as she complied.
The restaurant’s exterior was transparent, so she looked back inside for her client. He stood just inside the door, his nervous façade gone, replaced by one of smugness as the cuffs snapped around her wrists.
As she was guided into the squad car, he was waving good bye to her.
*****
The charge was attempted blackmail, and as she thought back on her conversation she realized what she had said during their meeting sounded exactly like what a blackmailer would say.
She was interrogated for six hours yet she never said a word. The detectives tried to portray themselves as the only ones who could help her, but they simply wanted the clear the case; she would wait for her attorney.
*****
Her attorney couldn’t make it until the next day—another important case—so she was put in a holding cell.
The assassins came for her that night, two of them disguised as inmates. Or perhaps they were real ones. It didn’t matter.
She knocked out both of them and broke their arms.
Her attorney showed up the next day and two days later she was out on a bail that cost most of her emergency fund.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Geneenh stood at the entrance to the latest “it” restaurant, wearing a dress that cost a small fortune. It was businesslike yet tight in certain areas and revealing in others, the standard uniform for any woman who wanted to fit in on Illium. It was all about appearance on the planet that served as a gateway to asari space, even though just underneath it was as dangerous as Omega.
In many ways it was worse than the unofficial capital of the Terminus Systems. On Omega, the lawlessness and cheap value of life was readily apparent, whereas on Illium it hid behind a thin veneer of civilization.
“Yes, I’m here to see Mr. Ydobon,” she said, inwardly rolling her eyes at the code name for her contact.
Such a flimsy name—“nobody” spelled backwards—was the sign of an unimaginative mind, but for the money she was getting paid she could put up with it.
The job was simple: hack into a corporation’s R&D section and download all of their projects still in development and deliver it to one of their competitors. Nothing more than common corporate espionage—mundane, something hardly worth her time—but she was getting paid well above what she usually charged.
Besides, the best care for a special needs person was expensive.
Her contact had insisted on a face-to-face meeting to exchange the data for the money. Normally she didn’t do such a thing, but again for the excessive amount of credits she was willing to make an exception.
The maître d’ escorted her to her client, a middle-aged human man.
“Did you bring it?” he asked.
“It’s safe,” she said. “Did you bring my fee?”
The man hesitated a moment before answering, “I need to see it before I pay you.”
“Seriously?” she said. “You’re negotiating now?”
She leaned forward.
“I could take what I have to any of your competitors and they would gladly pay me my fee, probably even more,” she said.
Spotting a waiter at a nearby table, she gestured for his attention and he held up a finger.
“You have until our waiter arrives to decide,” she said. “Then I walk, and you’ll never see me again.”
The man licked his lips and looked away.
The waiter finished at the other table and approached.
“You need what I have more than I need what you have,” she said. “Here he comes.”
As the waiter arrived, she stood up and walked away.
“Wait!” he said a little too loudly, drawing glances from a few nearby tables.
“Could you give us a minute please?” he said to the waiter, who nodded and stepped away.
She took her seat.
He reached into his suit, pulled out a credit chit and slid it across the table.
She scanned it with her omnitool, and it was in the amount he had promised.
She reached into the small purse she carried, pulled out an OSD and slid it across the table.
“Is it all there?” he asked.
“Every last detail,” she said. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
*****
As she left the restaurant, she was greeted by four police officers.
The leader, a turian female, stepped forward, her hand on her pistol.
“Come with us,” she said.
“I’d like to contact my attorney,” she said.
“Turn around,” the officer said, a little more firmly.
Geneenh said nothing as she complied.
The restaurant’s exterior was transparent, so she looked back inside for her client. He stood just inside the door, his nervous façade gone, replaced by one of smugness as the cuffs snapped around her wrists.
As she was guided into the squad car, he was waving good bye to her.
*****
The charge was attempted blackmail, and as she thought back on her conversation she realized what she had said during their meeting sounded exactly like what a blackmailer would say.
She was interrogated for six hours yet she never said a word. The detectives tried to portray themselves as the only ones who could help her, but they simply wanted the clear the case; she would wait for her attorney.
*****
Her attorney couldn’t make it until the next day—another important case—so she was put in a holding cell.
The assassins came for her that night, two of them disguised as inmates. Or perhaps they were real ones. It didn’t matter.
She knocked out both of them and broke their arms.
Her attorney showed up the next day and two days later she was out on a bail that cost most of her emergency fund.