Ysanne Isard
Feb 25th, 2002, 06:54:38 PM
The sun slowly setting against the horizon, it bathed the solitary figure standing by the window in a crimson halo. Dusty clouds and that same orange-dark light cast a bloody background to the evening traffic in the spacelanes. Not a sound penetrated through the thick transparisteel windows - an advantage, considering that just across from this building was the landing platform of one of the space-cruising lines, their big ships filling the air with the barbaric roaring of their engines. Just then, as she watched, one of the big liners made ready to dock at the platform, the engines still burning brightly. But the noise that made the building beneath her feet vibrate slightly, did not reach her ears. Fortunate, to have such privileges - the privileges of a chosen few.
A deep frown creased her forehead as she listened to the recording that had been playing in the background, of her last conversation with the Savich woman, for the third time this afternoon. It had gone well - just as she had intended - yet there had been a certain tension in the air, a certain doubt in the other woman's mannerisms, that could not be accounted for. There had been a certain.... suspicion behind her words, that Isard had not liked.
"So this is what you wanted me for all along, wasn't it? To spy on my boss for you? Do your dirty-work as far as he is concerned?" Moranda asked her just then in the recording.
"No, this is simply one of your uses for me. A not unwelcome addition to my other plans, that you would happen to be in Prent's employ," the image of Isard replied.
"So what? So you could get me in trouble with him now that you've lifted all the warrants on my head? You know he's gonna be suspicious - if he isn't already, after you had the nerve to drop that encoded message into his lap. You get me into a mess and then expect me to do the cleaning up - and make myself suspicious by my own actions. How's he going to believe me anything from now on, eh? Tell me that?"Moranda's enraged state did not transfer itself all too well through the holo image of her, but her tone of voice had done that sufficiently. It had even made Isard falter then, a little.
"Yes, well, but ---"
"It's making me think, Isard - making me think of reconsidering this whole scheme you concocted in that nasty mind of yours. Whatever it is you have planned for me, I am starting to think in the end I'll be rather useless for you... I don't know if I still want to be around if you start seeking other possible alternatives to using my services. I think I'd want to---"
By that time, Isard then had regained her equilibrium of being second-guessed so easily by a common criminal, and, full of self-righteous rage, shouted at the other woman: "Enough! You will do what I ask of you, Miss Savich, or it will cost you your head!.... Now, return to your ship with all that I gave you," - the image pointed at something not included in the scene - "and see that you carry out your orders. Without any further questions!"
Isard stabbed at the projector's on-switch with her index finger, and turned it off with a silent clicking noise. Silence filled the room again - a heavy, clogging silence that seemed to want to tell her something in a volume so low she could not hear. Something had marred the perfection of her plan - something so tiny, but it had still left a scar.
Slowly stepping towards her desk, she let herself fall rather heavily into her leather chair, where she sat musing over the events again. She could only hope that the woman would be kept too busy to have the time for any more ideas about her own future and fate...
A deep frown creased her forehead as she listened to the recording that had been playing in the background, of her last conversation with the Savich woman, for the third time this afternoon. It had gone well - just as she had intended - yet there had been a certain tension in the air, a certain doubt in the other woman's mannerisms, that could not be accounted for. There had been a certain.... suspicion behind her words, that Isard had not liked.
"So this is what you wanted me for all along, wasn't it? To spy on my boss for you? Do your dirty-work as far as he is concerned?" Moranda asked her just then in the recording.
"No, this is simply one of your uses for me. A not unwelcome addition to my other plans, that you would happen to be in Prent's employ," the image of Isard replied.
"So what? So you could get me in trouble with him now that you've lifted all the warrants on my head? You know he's gonna be suspicious - if he isn't already, after you had the nerve to drop that encoded message into his lap. You get me into a mess and then expect me to do the cleaning up - and make myself suspicious by my own actions. How's he going to believe me anything from now on, eh? Tell me that?"Moranda's enraged state did not transfer itself all too well through the holo image of her, but her tone of voice had done that sufficiently. It had even made Isard falter then, a little.
"Yes, well, but ---"
"It's making me think, Isard - making me think of reconsidering this whole scheme you concocted in that nasty mind of yours. Whatever it is you have planned for me, I am starting to think in the end I'll be rather useless for you... I don't know if I still want to be around if you start seeking other possible alternatives to using my services. I think I'd want to---"
By that time, Isard then had regained her equilibrium of being second-guessed so easily by a common criminal, and, full of self-righteous rage, shouted at the other woman: "Enough! You will do what I ask of you, Miss Savich, or it will cost you your head!.... Now, return to your ship with all that I gave you," - the image pointed at something not included in the scene - "and see that you carry out your orders. Without any further questions!"
Isard stabbed at the projector's on-switch with her index finger, and turned it off with a silent clicking noise. Silence filled the room again - a heavy, clogging silence that seemed to want to tell her something in a volume so low she could not hear. Something had marred the perfection of her plan - something so tiny, but it had still left a scar.
Slowly stepping towards her desk, she let herself fall rather heavily into her leather chair, where she sat musing over the events again. She could only hope that the woman would be kept too busy to have the time for any more ideas about her own future and fate...