Annabelle Lee

[GunFreak]

"She's beautiful", she said as she stared through the viewport at my customized Nova quietly cooling in the docking berth.

I'd just come in to SPP Alpha in Ore Belt, needing a little R'n'R from the stresses of managing my small mining fleet, tagged a quick Brass Goner at the bar, and ran into her. She stood there, the landing bay fluorescents silohuetting her slender body through irridescent shades of pink and silver that made up her top. She was an Argon girl, not pretty, not voluptuous, but port enough for any spacer with an asteroid-numb mind.

Her name, so she said, was Annabelle Lee.

"Has she seen much action lately," Ms. Lee said as she turned and brushed her long, raven hair behind her ear.

"A pirate or two, here or there in the last couple of weeks." I chuckled as I quaffed another bolt from my space fuel skein, "I can't say as they were much trouble, her being the steely hunter she is.

Sound as an Osprey, and I've caught her growling at khaak clusters." This made her laugh, a light wafty sort, and she moved closer to the bed.

"Now what's say you and me get more comfortable and make like randy spacers?" The Fuel, Gonne love the stuff, had smacked my forebrain with it's velvet slugdehammer.

She smiled, running a finger down the shimmering shirt, its transparencies overtaking its opaques as the emitters shutdown. While nothing special, standing there like that she had my full interest,

like that silicon-turned-nividium rock waiting to be taken. She crawled over my legs, pulled herself up by my belt and brought her silken red lips within a breath's distance of mine. She leaned in and

took the kiss from my lips; ravenous - she seemed - to feed.

"Does she have full shields?" she asked as she bit my lip and trickled hot passion down my neck.

"Full compliment of 25's, just serviced," with that she worked lower down my neck, kissing my chest, running her fingers smoothly, calculatingly over me.

"Is she armed?" she helped herself to my abs, buttons flying as my shirt exploded from her wanton hands.

"To the teeth, turreted mass driver, full ammo," she came back up to give my mouth her full attention again, her hot breath mixing with mine; Fuel and a sweet smell filled the air around me like

spaceweed, a heavier scent and much more overpowering. "Two Beta HEPT's in front, Ion D's in her hold."

Again she assaulted my torso with a mad rhapsody of her lips. She clawed her nails down my chest.

"J-drive?" she asked sweetly as she pulled back from another kiss.

"Absolutely," I answered with a confident grin.

And everything went black.

I awoke to find myself laying as I had been, a stray button still sat on my left shoulder. My head felt like a Split Dragon had landed on it.

I stood, legs rubbery and weak, jeans and belt still tightly fastened about my waist. I made my way to the viewport, not terribly suprised to discover the FuryRyder, my Nova, absent from its berth. I crept cautiously to the data term of the hotel room and pulled up the sector grid. My mind screamed white pain as the contrast of the viewscreen to the darkened room was playing over my retina.

There she was, only a kew klicks out, and crusing nonchalant through the rocks between here and the north gate. I patched a comm call through to the SecPol, and a new set of small white dots

appeared on the grid. I gave the sergeant her loadout, and told him to do what he needed. I then patched her in.

"Hello, darlin'" I smirked into the reply, "seems you've found a better ride. Why not head back and I can call the SecPol dogs off yer tail? We can finish up business here, no hard feelings."

"Thanks for the offer, sweetie, but I've got somewhere I need to be, and the means to get there. I hope you don't mind that I had one of your Dolphins escort me? I think her full hold of silicon will give me a good nest egg of my own." I left you the other fourteen... oops, now thirteen, sorry but a girl must have money for expenses."

"You don't really think the Sec-cops will let you go, do you? You'll never make it out of Ore Belt at the rate you're going,"

Customization #1: speed governor with a spoken computer command release.

"Silly, as if I didn't know how to use a jumpdrive. Computer engage."

Customization #2: j-drive with a overridable computer controlled detonator attached to a strategically placed, noninvenotried hornet missle in the hold.

FuryRyder disappeared from the grid, and several cargo containers appeared. Another two-bit theif egressed to the void.

I ordered my Dolphins back to their automated mining tasks, and rang Fed Shipyard Alpha in A-Prime for a new Nova. I 'quipped her out full, and got her on her way to the equipment dock where Smitty - my customizer - works; he had no reservation about taking another not-small fee.

I room-serviced a discrete refill of my skein, and sat at the term. I punched up the apt, but annoying, "Your Argon Nova". Awaiting instruction, the computer blinked its unfeeling cursor at me. I took
a new bolt, snorted a clear inhale, and spoke as I entered "AnnabelleLee".

[SteveMill]

An interesting style, very Dashiell Hammett. Format needs work though.

[GunFreak]

Ah, always looking for positive criticism, how would the format be better served?

[KiwiNZ]

That is a neat approach. With so many guys in their expensive toys, that was just waiting to happen

It started out a bit raunchy but you managed to contain it well

[SteveMill]

Ah, always looking for positive criticism, how would the format be better served?

Looks like you've done it - all the hanging lines etc.