The Space Opera Working Thread, page 4

Sssst Gawh Betelgeuse Ttht rrrrs!!

She sits alone in her quarters, all nicely furnished from the Rigellian Force having been grateful for her spying and mercenary capabilities. Enapat knows she has certainly sacrificed enough. The elaborate furnishings fit for a Grand Architect means gwark to her. The room is icy cold as her kind like.

Whisper looks forward to an opportunity for anarchy; activity and a need for her rank has been all too quiet since Betelgeuse. “Betelgeuse” she repeats to herself. If only her orders had been followed, the gwarking Chancellor would have never known; so close we were, so close.

Sssst Gawh Betelgeuse Ttht rrrrs!!

No mistaking it this time. For without a doubt, that was her dear friend Antar [as much as Rigellians can have friends]. How long had it been? No mistaking her ‘voice.’ A wicked but loving smile spreads slowly across her mouth revealing silvery, sharp, pointy small teeth. That’s a funny thing about Rigellians’, a lot of species vary in color, we vary in size and shape of teeth. Each race evolving on multiple planets had various food sources. Our razor sharp teeth evolved to benefit each location.

Sssst Gawh Betelgeuse Ttht rrrrs!!

Again! Even louder Whisper almost spills her thick, chalky brown beverage! Again with the teeth and she takes a moment to set her drink down, adjust her tentacles, close all of her eyelids, and replies to Antar. She sends along a vibration of warmth with a coy tease of trying to delve into Antars wealth of knowledge. …..She knows something….where we are going….our mission to which Whisper hasen’t been advised full disclosure….yes….she knows….almost…GWARK! Whisper chuckles to herself. She knows better. How many hundreds of years has she been in silent awe of the abilities of Antar?

We Rigellians aren’t big on ‘feelings’, emotions. Antar makes Whisper question herself from time to time. The excessive coldness she seems to exhibit is no doubt a product of her conditioning for Special Operations. In quiet moments, reflecting all of those close to her she’s lost, she wishes for Antars ability to FEEL. Whisper can almost get there and then, shuts down. She chooses to focus her discord, her angst, her longing to her career. She can redeem her past by becoming a silent hero of today.

Whisper continues preparing for the departure. Handling her favorite tricks of the trade, she packs them with the attendance of a mother to a child. She finishes up her last night by having another sticky, super sweet, thick chalky inebriating beverage. Her final preparation and evening ritual ensues. Using a slick, oily substance she applies this to all of her tentacles, hers being shorter and smaller then others adding to her stealth.

Dreams of returning to Betelgeuse, tantalize her. Her icy demeanor shifts for just a moment as she drifts off to sleep.”I must know the secret, we were so close, we will be again….it only takes one transition through the wormhole…one.” Again, the bone chilling toothy grin.

[edit on 3/17/2009 by Whisper67]