Katarina look at him with curiosity. "Maybe? Good pilots need years to trainning and master skills, but some basic should be able to learn in few weeks. Are you sure that you can handle it?"
As the pod launched, Sarah was left alone in space. She looked through the port, to see the ship disappearing in hyperspace, leaving her truly alone. Drifting in space with little food, and nothing but skimpy clothes on her back, no way to contact Panza. And then she realised, that the man could easily leave her to her fate and take the ship and droids.
Orson approached the girl, 'You can stand up now. How are your wrists?' He looked around a moment, 'Well, now that you're free from those, we can see about your accommodation. You will have your own room, but I must stress you will be confined to quarters, I cannot have a civilian wandering about the ship at their leisure.'
"You lose your fleet, and now you want me to make you a commander?" Daltar chuckles. "Bold. I'm not one for allowing people to fail upwards. Still, there might be something to what you're saying. Maybe..." The admiral looks at the former queen. "Perks, you say? What, you want me to take you into my bed, so you can cut my throat as I sleep?"
There were voices affirming the orders. But as the preparations continued, Rook turned to Darious. "Didn't major had some kind of bunker in her mansion?" She asked. Stantor paused. "You think they are retreating there?" "Charges are ready!" One of the Mandalorians reported.
"Hah." Sighing, Sarah knew Panza didn't have the guts to betray her. Sure, he could create droids, but he had no skills in commanding them. And if he tried to work for another, he knew that he would no longer be able to experiment with his droids. As the first time any of his creations exploded, his new employer would think he was simply trying to assassinate them. "Hmph, really now. Guess we should have waited a few more days for them to fully stock the ship." She said to herself as she activates the pod's distress beacon, sending her location to any nearby ships.
The man thought for a moment. "Yes... I think I have the skills." He said slowly. "I also have instincts. I think I would handle it." He nodded.
"You tell Me that now?" He stares at Rook before he looks at Stantor. "Blow The Carges. That Bunker will be their Grave. But I want The City searched for any hidden Exits."
The blond stood up, but kept her head lowered and her hands clasped together. "Yes Master." She answered. "I shall obey your orders."
Katarina give him stare with doubts, but didn't comment that. "Al right, let's go to bridge and test your skills." She said and go. As they went, she show Will panel and console. "Okey, look here, these buttons are resposible for.." And she give him lessons of driving.
Orson laid his hand on her shoulder, giving a slight chuckle, 'You are really stubborn, you know that?' The other hand raised her chin to look at him, 'It is only polite to look people in the eye when talking to them. And I have told you before, stop calling me master.' He sighed, letting go of her, 'Now, again. What is your name? The real one, not one some former master gave you.'
"The fate favours the bold, they say." The woman smirked but palled at the baron's comment. "I would never!" Chil'van laughed. "We can easily prevent it, by installing an appropriate slave chip. One that has to be reset every morning, or will blow little green head. That way she would be motivated to please you every morning." The Chiss woman paused. "Or, let's say the chip would start stimulating orgasms and wouldn't stop until Admiral gave order - that would be amusing death, don't you think?"
After setting the signal, Sarah was virtually nothing to do. She had to prepare for long waiting - with nothing but her imagination to spend time.
"Very well." Daltar gives a nod. "Chil'van, thank you for the suggestion. I'll have one of the logistics corps people wrangle up a chip. In the meantime, your majesty, I think it's past time that we finished this. Get dressed, we're heading back to my ship." The admiral contacts Furnace and his first officer, organising the occupation of the pirate ships. He sends a fraction of his crew to the frigate and the corvette, naming his first officer as the provisional captain of the frigate, and a junior officer as the commander of the corvette. Back on the bridge of the Indefatigable, with the pirates locked up in the brig, and Aigir'ritar undergoing the implantation of her chip, Daltar looks out at space, planning his next move. "We can't keep our pirate prisoners indefinitely. Set a course for Kessel, we'll sell them off, and let them do the Empire some good." He looks to one of the bridge officers. "Oh, and with my first officer now on the pirate frigate, the third in command is now promoted to first officer. Send them to me." As he waits, Daltar looks to Chil'van. "I'd be remiss, my lady, if I were to deprive you of the credit for today's success. Well done. Do you wish for a reward of some sort?"
Leaning back to take a nap as she had nothing to do. Sarah's mind wanders to her early days of being a mercenary, where no one knew of her, aside from her curvy form. She had to fight off groping hands, and how she would sometimes have to resort to selling her body to make ends meet. Though thanks to her beauty, she got some powerful clients that did all sorts of depraved things to her... most of which she enjoyed.
And yet, not once did you say I’m wrong that your first instinct will be immediately attempting to betray us. This woman saw herself as a lot cunning and manipulative than Mardica actually felt listening to her. Someone who overestimates their own charm and influence might be a bit easier to control, but it would still be just better to not let her have her foot in the door at all. “And if you’re dead curious, I’m no coward from the Order, patting themselves on the back for things they never actually did. The only thing I’ll agree on is that the Order’s goal is so they can feel better about themselves, as if they’re making some kind of big sacrifice by doing nothing with their power....we have some family issues that can’t be worked out, my point is. Now, don’t compare me to those losers from the Order ever again.” Mardica’s tone became a little rapid, sharp, and her brow furrowed somewhat, making no secret of her opinions to the Order which almost sounded dangerously close to the thoughts of a lot of Dark Force users, though it was easy to sense she wasn’t. But the contempt seemed almost stronger than some actual fallen jedi as well. Whatever the case, Mardica remained looking annoyed. “That doesn’t mean we’re anything alike. I never intended to just grab power for myself...the planet...it has need of me. But I’m not out just for the sake of my own personal ambition. I took this planet from nothing and made a proper world out of it. It’s because of me that there’s a future for this planet to talk about at all.”
As he gives orders, Darious receives a transmission - one from Tarla Ban, the major. As he pushes the button, the projector display the image of the woman, whose residence he was storming now. "My dear Darious, what a pleasure to see you. To what do I ow a suprise~" The woman sultrily as she took a sip of wine.
Darious ignores her obvious attempt to caught him offguard. "Suprise? You shouldn't be suprised of The Consequences when You screw Me over. You and Your Gang have forgotten who is in charge. All I wanted was You, but You seem little to care how many You send to their Death. If You have something to say then say it quickly. I'm about to bury You alive."
As Katarina started giving lessons, she found Will, to be familiar with most of the concepts, and those he wasn't familiar with, he quickly learned. In two hours, he showed himself to be responsible enough to pilot ship.
"As you command my Lord." She said, not really changing the stance Orson put her in. "I had many names - each master called me differently. At one time I was called 12 - or Deena, in the tongue of my master. At other, 'Hey you'. Another time, this slave was called 'slave', 'fuckhole', 'dancer', 'merchandise'.
