Escape Claws

[Pierce Tondry]

The problem with Bothawui, simply put, was that it had too many Bothans.

As a rule, Pierce wasn't speciesest. Any sentient could be useful or helpful under the right conditions. The problem with Bothans, aside from the lying, backstabbing, and meaningless politicking, was that their chief usefulness seemed to lie in dying to accomplish things.

As another rule, Pierce and incompetence did not reside anywhere within half a galaxy of each other.

Cizerack, on the other hand, Pierce viewed with a slightly more interesting mixture of appreciation and distaste. They were more useful than Bothans, and more competent as well. Their sin lay in creating the dread Starkiller missiles that locked the galaxy a terrifying stalemate. No creation of such terrifying power ever came without cost. Judgement, or justice, or vengeance, would be visited on them before all was said and done.

Not by him. He didn't care enough to be that agent.

Yet.

These were the thoughts on Pierce's mind as he entered the Cizerack embassy on Bothawui. Not a place he'd normally go, but a summons from The Cizeri Baroness herself, Senator Taataani Meorrrei, was not something one ignored.

Whether they cared was another question.

Immediately on entering, Pierce spotted a Human female. Personal details: unknown. Physical traits: twenty-plus standard years; eye color: blue; current hair color; blonde; current attire: white shawl, dress, and jewelry mirroring Cizeri tastes; expression: still hopeful; assessment: no threat.

The Alliance government occasionally sponsored "Meet the Senator" lotteries. Lucky sentients would be granted a brief tour of their chosen Senator's office along with an audience 'that fit within the Senator's schedule'. Inevitably, the Cizeri lottery proved highly popular, especially among fans of their culture.

Pierce assumed the blonde visitor had been there for hours and would likely be there many more before her audience finally arrived.

Upon his entry to the Senator's outer office, a Human male. Personal details: name, Kallum Romanoch. Physical traits: see prior log; assessment: still not a threat beckoned him to the office's inner door. "You are early, as expected, sir. Please go in."

Pierce gave Kallum the barest of nods and entered into the lioness' den.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

She'd worn brunette. It was the hair color of a woman who worked frequently in Mr. Tondry's company, and a detail that recurred enough to make Kallum suggest it. These were things that mattered. Not in any overt sense, but the best kind of influence was the sort that went unseen. Still, though her hairpiece's color was autumn and relatively reserved, the Senator wore it in a high, patrician array that suited her. Because these choices never existed in a vacuum, her attire was similarly hued in rich warmth. Burgundy strappings of Ithorian silk with a textured Corvican fabric in eggshell to offset the dark hue. All part of a carefully calculated image designed to leave an indelible mark on the minds of her company.

Influence was the essence of power. The distilled quantum of control over others. Be it money, charm, business acumen, finery, sex, mercy, vengeance or even something so small as a choice of wig, these things all boiled away into their ability to sway hearts and minds. She wasn't so small as to play with the toys of luxury in a vacuum. It was no game Taataani Meorrrei played.

Senator Meorrrei stood at the periphery of her office, opposite the wide expansive window that let in the natural sunlight and the vista of Bothawui's capital. She watched colors of another array, those of the myriad of tropical fish swimming in her aquarium. Beautiful, delicious things. Shimmers of electric blue against impossible chartreuse and silver seemingly genuine enough to insinuate something precious. One might be nearly remorseful plucking one from the water to devour, if not for the truth of their simplicity. Oh, but they were simple. An eternity of rote existence, swimming left, then doubling about to swim right. They existed to be beautiful and then to be lunch. That was all the influence Taataani cared to exert over their world.

The crack of hinges set against heavy, beautiful oak doors gave a twitch to her ears, and Taataani smiled. This is no game.

"Madame Senator. Pierce Tondry to see you."

Taataani turned to see her majordomo escorting the object of her interest into her parlor. Her smile was polite and inviting, though as of yet without any other intention as her tail looped behind.

"Mr. Tondry, my pleasure to introduce you to Senator Taataani Fai'sheea Igarraai Meorrrei of Kepaa Brens. Rrou'fai of House Meorrrei and Baroness Executor of Incom Koensayr Meorrrei."

Kallum took a half step back as Taataani approached her guest. Human, or near enough to count. Handsome, but not ostentatiously so. A face that was pleasing, but not unforgettable. The Senator afforded the barest rising of her ears in approval as she extended her hand.

"Ja irra korra'nai, Mjisterr Tondrrjy."

Blue eyes glanced over his shoulder to Mr. Romanoch.

"Kallum, leave uss."

[Pierce Tondry]

"Senator Meorrrei. A pleasure." Pierce reached out and shook the extended hand of the Cizeri female. Personal details: name, Senator Taataani "Too Much Name" Meorrrei. Physical traits: see prior log (ADDENDUM shift in hair color - note and add update to physical record); assessment: dangerous, but vulnerable.

"Tastefully appointed. Only seen a few others like it." Pierce said as he took stock of her office. His eyes catalogued and passed over most of the decor, lingered on the aquarium fish- "I see you keep your snacks close at hand"- and finished their tour at a diamond-shaped decanter sitting in a wrought durasteel holder and placed apart from the other items on the Senator's personal wet bar so it could not help but be noticed.

The bottle read: Mon Denathan and Daughters Premium Label.

"Well," he said. "You've made the trip worthwhile already. I've never seen Chandrila's finest whisky in person. May I take a closer look?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

In the short time availing herself to the human custom, Taataani had become appreciative of the dance in microcosm represented by the shaking of hands. There was language exchanged there if one knew how to speak it. The strength of the grip and the motion, but also the arraying of digits, most particularly the index and thumb. How each remained in relation to the next, and where they fidgeted and dawdled. To this wealth of knowledge was also added the quality of the appendage itself. Where callouses found themselves, the amount of perspiration on the skin. All useful.

And in Pierce Tondry, so little of it useful. The Senator's tail paused mid sway as curiosity took root. A practiced enigma? Was that a product of his upbringing in Imperial Intelligence, or the fastidiousness of a careful creature? Thoughtful fat to chew through. But alas, handshakes only last for so long, and they had moved on.

"jI keep an arrchjitect and a dessjignerr on rretajinerr. Locatjion jiss ssuch a changeable thjing jin ourr galaxjy, and jI'm too sstubborrn to be ensslaved to Bothan aessthetjic."

He paused to quip at her aquarium, which elicited only an enigmatic smile. He wouldn't be the first forrda to take stock of her taste, and there were occasions that her prey served metaphorical use. Delightfully, he didn't dawdle, and the human's eyes moved in a path she'd preordained thanks once again to Kallum Romanoch's ever-useful pairings.

"jYou majy have morre than a look, Mjissterr Tondrrjy. jIt'ss not ssentjimental."

Not a man of culture, but one who knows enough. Taataani made her obserations of her guest invisible, or as invisible as one could be in the presence of one of the Alliance's best spies.

[Pierce Tondry]

He didn't move. Moving wasn't necessary yet. His eyes went somewhere else, came back something else, eyes that saw more, that absorbed and reabsorbed every tiny minute decorative sculpt, every scintillating shard, every discarded scale gleaming and glamorous as jewels on an ocean floor, pitting the weight of the appearance against the measure of its owner.

She wanted a mission from him. That was what they all wanted. He was capable; they knew, and they could use him to get what they wanted. He did it for justice, righteousness, to protect that which ought to be protected, to ensure the freedom all sentients were promised. Regardless of reason, the missions were his life.

And in the end, what else was there for him?

Assessment: Dangerous...


######

"Spooky, maybe set the missions aside for once?"

"What happens if I do?"

"Let's find out?" Time slid through the barest of pauses. "I see the universe is still standing."

"Someone somewhere is getting hurt, Kar."

"Yes, but not here. Not now. I just want to enjoy the time we've got outside cockpits and briefing rooms. Please?"

"I want to. I just- I feel like the fight never ends, even in the quiet times."

"Spooky, from what you've told me you've fought for something outside you your entire life. When was the last time you took a moment for yourself?"

"It's hard to let go when you're so deep in."


######

... yet vulnerable.

"You put together all this to impress visitors," Pierce said, finally stepping towards the exquisite decanter. He poured himself something to drink, the brown liquid charting a lazy arc into his glass. "I have to wonder if it impresses you at all. Or is this your gilded cage of power and responsibility that you were born so deep into you don't recognize the bars? Do you determine the meetings, or do the meetings determine you?"

"Tell me Senator," he said, sipping the whisky, enjoying the rich, smooth, nutty, creaminess burning down the back of his throat before interrupting his own sentence to comment. "Ohh, that's nice."

"As I was asking," he said, pausing before another sip and letting his eyes meet hers over the rim. "When was the last time you took a moment for yourself?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Tondry's words were armor piercing, and Taataani had not been prepared for his honest audacity. Her tail ceased it's present arc, and she wondered at the cheek of this human who had scarcely finished introductions before abandoning pleasant artifice to invite a glimpse into something painful. The Senator closed distance with her guest, this time availing herself to a measure of the Chandrilan potable. It was subtle and with edges as rounded and graceful as she'd imagine they'd be, considering the planet it hailed from. Nearly cognac in form, and without the smoky brusque character Admiral Tyree's Stewjon whisky inhabited.

Something in Tondry's eyes had changed. It couldn't be accounted for by the cleaner light next to the window. It was as if he was seeing through a window into her secrets. Nothing tangible or material, but the profound hidden things that meant something only to the one who carried them. Taataani allowed herself the chance to appraise her guest as she digested his words, mingling on her palate with the comfortable whisky she imbibed.

"Do jyou have a famjiljy, Mjissterr Tondrrjy?"

It wasn't a deflection or a matter of disregarding his query. If all he saw to the Senator was the artifice of the world he now inhabited, it would be easy to make the grave mistake of assumption.

[Pierce Tondry]

"Not for half a lifetime," Pierce replied, remembering as best he could. The haze obscured it, like it obscured everything deep in his past, but around the edges he could still remember his father's strength and his mother's love. "Being entirely alone in the world and not subservient to any master gives one a unique perspective. You see a lot, looking in from the outside or observing as you pass through the lives of others."

He sipped again from the glass - so good - and set the empty vessel in the bar's sink. He regarded the Baroness again and words came to mind: alone, aloof, yet attached. Such a strange mixture and only the first two could be the lies. "I suppose I should ask: by family, do you mean blood relatives? Or the ones in your life you'd do anything for?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"jIt jissn't jusst that jyou would do anjythjing forr them."

Taataani turned away from Pierce to gaze fully through her window at the vista of Drev'starn. Below, the streets were full the pulse of people traversing their lengths. It wasn't hard to observe for a moment and find those who weren't passing by chance. The slow gait. Hands held. The trailing of little ones. Even Bothans knew.

"jI am one of the mosst powerrful people jin ourr fledgljing natjion. jI know how to pull down the heavenss and rraisse the earrth. What jI get jissn't jin rreturrn forr that. jIt jissn't ssomethjing to whjich jyou can asssjign value orr sspend."

She pointed out a group of four dawdling Bothans on the street. Through observation it became clear that there was a familial bond, and it wasn't a mere matter of blood that held them together.

"Thejy know."

Taataani sipped her drink, turning away from the view.

"Heavjy majy be the head that wearrss the crrown asss jyou sseem sso concerrned, but jI know how fjickle powerr and forrtune arre. Rresst asssurred, jI could be a pauperr and sstjill be rrjicherr bjy farr."

Now at her desk, the Senator turned about, leaning against it's raised contours slightly.

"jI abhorr pssjychjiatrrjy, Pjierrce Tondrrjy. jYou have a pojint to make, and jI'll hearr jit."

[Pierce Tondry]

Despite himself, Pierce already missed the whisky. Given the price, the cost, of the thing, his likelihood of ever enjoying it again seemed slim.

Best not to get too attached anyway.

"Lots of people have titles," Pierce mused. "Some remember the title means service to others. For others, the title becomes them. They live in service to it, and inevitably, that means living in service to themselves."

"If our generation needed proof that no one holds a title forever, Palpatine's death is that. The only question is how you leave the role. At the end, the ones who remember service are the ones remembered. They get state funerals, monuments, holidays with their name attached. Stories the young listen to generations down the line."

"The other ones usually get a dagger in their back. If they don't; if they live? They die old, alone, forgotten, and broken by claws they always thought they could escape."

Pierce left the wet bar, abandoning his purposeful stride to the visitor's chair in favor of slow amble. "Senator. Rrou'fai of House Meorrrei. Baroness Executor of Incom Koensayr Meorrrei. Shining example of the most Cizeri traits your culture has to offer. If you want a fate other than a solitary death, ignored by everyone but your housepet as you topple off your garden chair to the ground, then remember the spark of innocence you started with. Remember the ones you serve with love, not aristocracy."

Then again...

Pierce shrugged as he sat, an oh-so-minor reconsideration of his assessment occurring to him. "Or don't, if that end sounds good to you."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Inwardly, Pierce's oracle-esque monologue drove Taataani to think about her own history, and how she'd found herself where she now resided. She thought of her mother Sirraaithi, who once reigned invincible as rrou'fai of House Meorrrei. She'd grown up in her shadow, yearning to find where it ended and the sun began. The moment the eclipse occurred, Taataani saw her mother differently. She was no longer the invincible matriarch. She had her limits, and Taataani surpassed them. Did she love her mother less at that moment? Did she betray her? From Sirraaithi's own words, she made Taataani rrou'fai, but it wasn't her mother's choice to make. Not any more. House Meorrrei was strong, and Sirraaithi had done her motherly duty. Was her own fall a part of that plan? When it was Taataani's turn, would she too see the waning sun and know what it meant, or would she hold onto every dying light heedless of ruin?

"Arre jyou fjinjisshed?" she asked plainly.

Pierce Tondry was a spy. A shadow. He was ephemera shaped into silhouette, molded into the image of the larger figures above him with a proper place in the sun.

Who was he to lecture Taataani Meorrrei?

[Pierce Tondry]

Pierce made a show of checking his pulse. "Doesn't seem like it yet. Business now?"

Or wounded rebuttal?

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"That'ss whjy jyou'rre herre."

Because he seemed to need a reminder of it. Senator Meorrrei made her way around her large desk, finding her own seat, which she took. Whether her shadow decided to take the sole seat opposite or rise above it was up to his own apparently-complicated metaphysics. She removed a pair of spectacles from a leather-adorned case beside her stylus, hooking the earpieces over carefully as she brought a datapad's contents back into order.

"The Djirrectorr ssajyss that jyou have a brrajin."

Taataani looked up from her reading, regarding Pierce through the slight distortion of bifocal lenses.

"And jyou'rre cerrtajinljy talented at rreadjing people."

She pressed her lips taut as she leaned back in her deep leather seat.

"And whjile jI'm cerrtajin jyou have no sshorrtage of lethal talentss at jyourr djisspossal, jit'ss the fjirrsst two that jinterresst me."

[Pierce Tondry]

"Never have liked being a person of interest myself," Pierce shrugged. "But I make do."

He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "Gotta admit, the nonlethal part is new. Me aside, who else has your interest?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

There were no need for facial holograms. No need for dossiers. If Pierce Tondry was what he said he was, he wouldn't need any digging at all to know all he needed from a simple name.

Taataani's expression lost any semblance of warmth as she gave him what he needed.

"Sasseeri Reeouurra."

[Pierce Tondry]

"Ha!" Pierce laughed, sharp and pointed. "You want me nosing around the business of your family's black cat? What's the point? What else are you hoping to do to her?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani raised a solitary eyebrow at Pierce's familiarity with her special relationship concerning Sasseeri. He was, if nothing else, a thorough man.

"jI can't kjill herr, jif that'ss what jyou'rre jimpljyjing. jIt would be messsjy, extrrajudjicjial, trroublessome at home, and jit'ss not mjy naturre jin anjy casse."

Senator Meorrrei pulled out a side drawer, opening a small humidor as she retrieved a cigar. She began the ritual of trimming it and curing the end with tracings of flame from a pen lighter.

"Sshe'ss a carrd jin mjy ssabacc hand. jI don't know herr trrue value jyet, sso jI want to be prreparred to ejitherr plajy herr orr disscarrd herr at wjill. When jI wass merreljy a Barronesss, jI had ljittle meanss to do sso."

With her cigar at last prepared, Taataani lit into it in earnest, drawing in stoking breaths that caused the end to glow a uniform red as purple smoke curled above like a halo.

"Now, jI have the meanss."

[Pierce Tondry]

"So you'd like me to get invited over to her side of the table and check her value in the rulebook," Pierce mused. "And I'm assuming in a way that means she'd be willing to invite me back if you want to check the rules again later."

Pierce mused over the aspects of the situation. The pieces all fit together, except for one little hole. "The way I figure you," he said. "You're not the type to play a hand unless you think you've got firm control over all the cards. Your control over me is minimal at best, so what makes you think I'll be willing to do this? As opposed to, say, walking out that door and disappearing forever?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Senator Meorrrei at last partook of a proper draw on her cigar, letting the rich extramaduro smoke inhabit every space in her mouth, before letting the smoke curl in thick calligraphy through her clefted lips. She likewise chewed on and tasted Tondry's words, finding them somewhat less durable than the cigar. In this particular played hand, he was bluffing with barely a pair, when he should have simply folded and moved on to another hand entirely. Perhaps he wanted her to say it. To say that this wasn't simply personal. He wasn't a fool, and he could see the larger picture than Taataani's vengeance.

"Allegedljy..." Taataani used the word flippantly. It was a lawyer's word. It had no place among politicians and spies who needed no such hedge. "...Sasseeri contrrolss an ownerrshjip sstake in Black Ssun. Let'ss take the asssumptjion at face value. Sshe holdss numerrouss sstakess jin frrontss both jin the Empjirre and the Alljiance. Ourr ljittle detente hassn't sslowed herr abjiljitjy to move between the new borrderr wjith easse."

Again, Taataani leaned back against plush leather, letting her cigar ruminate on it's perch on her oversized ash tray.

"An orrganjizatjion of ssjize and sscope, capable of operratjing wjith easse between the ssuperrpowerrss crreatess ssomethjing of a double-edged ssworrd. jIf Sasseeri werre connected jin ssuch a wajy, sshe could prressent a natjional ssecurrjitjy thrreat to uss. Ljikewjisse, werre we able to courrt herr and to prressent a casse forr mutual benefjit, jimagjine how we mjight desstabjilize the Empjirre wjithout jincrreassjing ourr rrjissk."

Taataani rose from her seat, moving past her desk toward a hutch adjacent to the aquarium. She opened the lid of an ornate vase - a gliarium where a clutch of dormant sajoi dozed out of direct sunlight. The Senator inspected the slowly-waking rodents, an appraising eye finding one that was sufficiently both fat and slow. It rolled itself to it's feet, but by then a single index finger pressed against the sajoi as an extending claw tip knifed into it's back. Taataani withdrew her hand from the morsel pot as the rodent choked silently against it's wound. Again, her attention went to Tondry.

"jI can guarrantee that ssomeone wjithjin the Empjirre jiss alrreadjy thjinkjing asss jI am. Therreforre, we enterr a prrjissonerr'ss djillemma. Do we do the noble thjing, and trrjy to brrjing ssuch a crrjimjinal enterrprrjisse to heel? Orr do we do what jit takess to prrotect the homeworrldss? jI won't losse ssleep overr makjing that chojice, Massterr Sspjy. Wjill jyou?"

Taataani pressed the impaled sajoi into her waiting mouth, awaiting his response as she rendered tiny bones and flesh.

[Pierce Tondry]

"I haven't lost sleep in over ten years," Pierce replied. "And I won't over this."

Despite Taataani's stretched justification, no real nobility lay in what she wanted him to do. Make himself attractive, go in, hook a fish, and ply her for some intel: no lives were getting saved here. Nothing good or decent would be preserved by charming the alleged leader of Black Sun's criminal enterprises. Maybe if the plan worked long term, they'd smuggle a few extra things for the Alliance they might otherwise not. Regardless, the loyalty of any major criminal enterprise lay with itself and no one else. At best, Taataani played a vengeful manipulator's game - poorly - and at worst, she sought to add a wild-value Knight of Daggers to her sabacc hand.

So what would be the point?

Pierce thought about the matter for the length of time it took the Senator to finish her snack, then spoke again. "This won't count towards my mission limit - it's not complex enough," he began. "And the way I see it, courting Black Sun is like asking a wild rancor for a kiss - it might eat you in the act. So I don't really buy the notion that any real good will come of this. But I'm not above being helpful from time to time and I liked that whisky, so I'll do what you've asked."

The decision made, his brain began to line up all the requirements and logistics necessary to find and court Sasseeri Reeouurra. "You need any kind of timetable for this, or do I have the luxury of an open-ended mission?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Senator licked a trace of blood from her finger, then drew her hands together in front of her as he considered Pierce Tondry and all of his unpalatable moral ruminations. Blissfully, he threw in his lot despite himself, sparing her the drudgery of the hand lecturing the brain once more.

"Therre jiss an element of urrgencjy bejyond the ssjimple tassk of sspjyjing on Black Ssun and evaluatjjing Rrou Reeouurra'ss potentjial value to uss. jYou arre famjiljiarr wjith Operratjion Corrjianderr."

It wasn't a question. The Senator was well-aware of Tondry's clearance.

[Pierce Tondry]

Coriander.

The name left a bad taste in Pierce's mouth and for the first time since walking into the Senator's office, he invested his attention in what she wanted. "I know what it's possible to know without being there," he said. "And what people say happened. No one has yet come up with proof that it wasn't a cock-up instead of a double-deal, though that seems likely."

His lip twisted. "Am I to fish around the scum bucket for that, too?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Retrieving her cigar, Taataani stoked it from behind her desk once more. She nodded to Tondry's intuition.

"jIf sshe had a hand jin jit, jI want to know."

There was a dark cloud hanging over the why of that, somewhere well-hidden behind her eyes.

[Pierce Tondry]

Taa wanted something here, something vengeful and dark, that much was clear. What was less clear was what, exactly, she wanted it for. With as ambiguous a moral set as the Senator seemed to have, Pierce half-believed she'd be looking for the agent behind Coriander to recruit her, or him, or it. She'd certainly taken that route with Pierce, tugging him out of regular SpecOps work to request his assistance with Phoenix Cell operations.

"I'll do an operation plan, along with funding estimates, and pass it over," Pierce said. "I expect this will probably take actual spending power and not just a show of money, so you know."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"jI cossjign the jIntelljigence budget, Mjissterr Tondrrjy." Taataani spoke, letting out a mouthful of dense smoke that hung in a thick strand between them.

"Rresst asssurred, we'rre good forr jit."

The more delicate matter was laundering the credits, which was handled through Intel's bureau before it even trickled down into Phoenix Cell. By the time it changed hands through a half dozen worlds and a few organizations and businesses, it effectively disappeared, hiding the Alliance's hand from their shadow play and securing plausible deniability.

[Pierce Tondry]

"I think we're done here," said Pierce, then paused and eyed the smoke column. The tiny flecks of smoke floated, slowly, gently towards Pierce's face. With a quick breath, he blew part of the approaching cloud back at Taataani's dour visage. A smaller cloud formed within the cloud, billowing back toward's its origin but without the oopmh to ever reach its destination. "If you don't have anything more to discuss, I'll let you get back to your important penmanship."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Therre jiss one morre matterr, sspjymassterr."

Angling her cigar down and away, the Senator took another purposeful step to close the distance between. She appraised his face closely. His eyes. His mouth. All things that her dear sister would inspect in her own time.

"Kjisss me."

[Pierce Tondry]

Pierce's expression changed. Gone was the humanity, the wry and pointed expression he'd kept on through their conversation. Something high and emotionless took its place.

"Madame Senator," he stated directly, all uncertainty absent from his tone. He lifted himself the chair and adopted his tallest posture; a stance straight, commanding, a hair's breadth from the regal demeanor of a Hapan monarch. With a single, slow, deliberate step, the gap between them vanished and they were close. "Did you know a quick, hard strike on a species' soft tissue can create the most extreme pain they can imagine?"

"But."

One of his hands took hold of Taa's abdomen, parallel to her navel, and drew her in. His other started on the shoulder and massaged its way upward with unhurried care, ending with his palm pressed against her neck and his fingers supporting the back of her head. He leaned around to one ear and whispered with breath of feathers.

"Start slower, more gentle."

The thumb on her abdomen began to press, the palm conducting her head did as well, working, but not deeply.

"Walk the line and the pressure becomes."

His mouth moved away from her ear at last, breathing lightly along her neck before mingling with the space just before her mouth. Then his lips pressed to hers, working everything as he did, tongue guiding, coaxing, plying, and playing.

And then he disengaged and drew away.

"Enjoyable?" he asked.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

He plied charms Taataani hadn't appraised were in his possession, and moved hands and lips in perfect harmony to create an intimate contact that wasn't lewd, but certainly pleasing. What she'd considered to be a matter of audition had turned into a teaser, genuinely leaving her wanting for more than just the literal taste she'd gotten of him. A trilling purr rumbled in her middle, dispelled as soon as it gave her away. The Senator caged her libido, keeping her eyes on the secretive spy as her tongue demurely passed between her lips to prolong the magic.

"Enjojyable enough." she replied coolly, denying Pierce the satisfaction of a further elicited response. "No doubt Sasseeri wjill agrree, sshould sshe rrequjirre convjincjing."

"Now..."

Gesturing with her cigar toward the door, Senator Meorrrei adjourned the meeting.

"jYou majy go."

[Pierce Tondry]

Pierce inclined his head, adding the bits and pieces of emotion, of stance, of person, back to himself as he did so.

Dangerous, but vulnerable.

He considered his assessment on his way out the door and his considerations caused him to pause. Something about the Senator's plight tugged at him. She stood at the top of her web, alone, struggling for something she desperately wanted, and that something would not let her be seen as anything other than an omni-competent predator. The path she'd chosen did not allow for lasting success or a fulfilling retirement. Her failure was preordained; he could not help that and would not interrupt his own path to try.

When was the last time you took a moment for yourself?

But he could take a moment from that path.

"Oh, and Senator?" he said from the doorway.

She'd already seated herself at her desk and was poring over some notes. When she'd looked up he continued. "I like what you've done with your hair. If I get a chance, I'll bring you back something nice."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani glanced up owlishly from her seated perch, spectacles back on her eyes as she busied herself with the minutiae of office. Like so many things he'd said in their brief exchange, these parting words seemed calculatingly familiar and enigmatic at once. It gave her pause as to who had been interviewing whom in this little exchange.

No matter.

Pierce Tondry was her tool. Her extension. The tail did not wag the body.

"Besst of luck, Mjissterr Tondrrjy."

And with that, she paid him no further mind, allowing him the good grace to continue past her threshold.