The Blood Hound
Aboard Antoine's yacht lay his fourteenth or fifteenth secretary. While useless as all of those who came before her, this one at least had something to offer outside of her work hours incompetencies. She was sleeping in his bed now, the bed he had custom ordered, bit enough to house at least seven humans on. He was glad they'd used that bed tonight. It meant he could lay a few meters away from her and not be in danger of her attempting to cuddle him as he attempted to get some sleep. Tomorrow, she would be gone, and he would never see her again.
Yet Antoine could not deny that his lack of sleeping was not due to the stupid woman in his bed, but more because of a certain man inside his mind. It had been months since they had met on Krant. Their meeting had been brief, shallow, and constantly disrupted by the presence of a third, yet there was something about him that had burned his image upon Antoine's mind and thoughts. He had rarely a night without thinking of the man's face before he at last fell asleep, and the face in his memories kept him awake for long before that.
Varick Lechner.
Not even the spice offered at his roman inspired nightly celebrations had served to remove it from his mind.
"Get up," he said as he shoved the woman out of his bed. He did not want her there. He did not want any of those who slepton his yacht there. "Begone, wenches," Antoine said a little louder as he turned the lights on and brought a spray bottle out. It was just water, but it was enough.
An hour later, when everyone had left, and Antoine remained along on his yacht, surrounded by discarded garments and empty bottles of expensive wine, he sent his message out.
[member="Varick Lechner"],
As the Confederacy embarks on a useless mission to wage war on the other end of the galaxy, how would you feel about being relieved of your Knights Obsidian duty in order to come take a trip with me to see the beauty that this Galaxy has to offer?
That sounded good enough. Nodding to himself, Antoine sent the message, and finally fell asleep.
Yet Antoine could not deny that his lack of sleeping was not due to the stupid woman in his bed, but more because of a certain man inside his mind. It had been months since they had met on Krant. Their meeting had been brief, shallow, and constantly disrupted by the presence of a third, yet there was something about him that had burned his image upon Antoine's mind and thoughts. He had rarely a night without thinking of the man's face before he at last fell asleep, and the face in his memories kept him awake for long before that.
Varick Lechner.
Not even the spice offered at his roman inspired nightly celebrations had served to remove it from his mind.
"Get up," he said as he shoved the woman out of his bed. He did not want her there. He did not want any of those who slepton his yacht there. "Begone, wenches," Antoine said a little louder as he turned the lights on and brought a spray bottle out. It was just water, but it was enough.
An hour later, when everyone had left, and Antoine remained along on his yacht, surrounded by discarded garments and empty bottles of expensive wine, he sent his message out.
[member="Varick Lechner"],
As the Confederacy embarks on a useless mission to wage war on the other end of the galaxy, how would you feel about being relieved of your Knights Obsidian duty in order to come take a trip with me to see the beauty that this Galaxy has to offer?
That sounded good enough. Nodding to himself, Antoine sent the message, and finally fell asleep.