darkhaert
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Oct 16, 2010
- Messages
- 331
- Reaction score
- 0
Yuki'squa Sukinokousukke was in her panties and undershirt, again. It was her common ritualistic garment for when her willingness was low. Events like parties, shows, live orchestras, and missions needed her effort. Today, she could hardly care to find out whether Kahl'l Nhbel was inside her cruiser, or pursuing a soon-to-be-dead man. The week was very slow for her, too, sadly. No one needed her, and no one will probably will for the next week or so. Because of the lack of events she had to read a journal on Molecular Chemistry. She doesn't need other CARD researchers reminding her of the new discoveries of hormone inhibitors, or Allelopathic species of herbs. There were hardly any plays in the nearest galaxy, either.
The Hammer was as boring as she'd dreaded it to be for the past three days. She'd lasted longer than she thought. If only the AI on the ship was intelligent enough to have a decent conversation, then she wouldn't pick up another Medical Journal, exploring the fun sides of leprosy and treatment. "Hammer," she said. "Do I have any parties to attend to after next week?"
The AI responded quickly, like a human would, "No events listed after next week," It said. Then it commented: "At least you'll be free to do what you want Madam." She despised the AI's incapability to sense what she wanted, or what her mood was. What she wanted was to get away from the ship, not that she hated her home. She wished she could destroy the thing, but it was her only AI for the ship. The other AIs were for maintenance and defense. Why were machines not her thing? "Thank you, Hammer."
After an hour of arranging her library of important documents, The Hammer announced a ship heading for their direction. “It’s the—” “I know. It’s hard for me not to know who’s coming,” she interrupted. Exiting her library, she tried to look for the nearest servant droid. One appeared; apparently it was cleaning the window that gives a wide view of space. “Droid,” she said. “Yes, Madam,” it replied. “I need a something from my wardrobe.” She could have asked The Hammer to get what she wanted, but she couldn’t take anymore of it’s comments. “It’s in C block, third row. Montiverde, black, and transparent…” she should have used The Hammer, now the droid would take time to reach her wardrobe with those slow bipedal legs.
She waited in the watchroom of the hangar, waiting for him to dock. Naturally, she had her lightsaber with her. Wrapped behind her buttocks by her panties. She was still in her ritualistic garment of laziness. Although she wished she'd greet him with something more. He should have warned her, or given her a call before coming.
But formalities are not needed between them.
The Hammer was as boring as she'd dreaded it to be for the past three days. She'd lasted longer than she thought. If only the AI on the ship was intelligent enough to have a decent conversation, then she wouldn't pick up another Medical Journal, exploring the fun sides of leprosy and treatment. "Hammer," she said. "Do I have any parties to attend to after next week?"
The AI responded quickly, like a human would, "No events listed after next week," It said. Then it commented: "At least you'll be free to do what you want Madam." She despised the AI's incapability to sense what she wanted, or what her mood was. What she wanted was to get away from the ship, not that she hated her home. She wished she could destroy the thing, but it was her only AI for the ship. The other AIs were for maintenance and defense. Why were machines not her thing? "Thank you, Hammer."
After an hour of arranging her library of important documents, The Hammer announced a ship heading for their direction. “It’s the—” “I know. It’s hard for me not to know who’s coming,” she interrupted. Exiting her library, she tried to look for the nearest servant droid. One appeared; apparently it was cleaning the window that gives a wide view of space. “Droid,” she said. “Yes, Madam,” it replied. “I need a something from my wardrobe.” She could have asked The Hammer to get what she wanted, but she couldn’t take anymore of it’s comments. “It’s in C block, third row. Montiverde, black, and transparent…” she should have used The Hammer, now the droid would take time to reach her wardrobe with those slow bipedal legs.
She waited in the watchroom of the hangar, waiting for him to dock. Naturally, she had her lightsaber with her. Wrapped behind her buttocks by her panties. She was still in her ritualistic garment of laziness. Although she wished she'd greet him with something more. He should have warned her, or given her a call before coming.
But formalities are not needed between them.