Rimbor,
The United Planets


The door to the Pawn Shop slid open slower than it should, causing the advanced technology of the 31st century to stutter and make noise in a way that felt more outdated than even 21st century tech. As the smell and look of the shop settled in her eyes, Lolita realized it was a good sample of what the rest of the shop looked like: dilapidated and worn down with an ongoing seedy vibe. Rimbor was a planet where one could get anything if they wanted it bad enough and had the credits to spend. Little pawn shops like this, acting as retail stores for all the Fences of the United Planets Space-Crime, were what gave it that reputation in the first place.

“Ah, what a lovely young lady,” said a voice. “May I be of service?” His every word as hummed with an innate creepiness, and Lolita didn’t miss the fact that his eyes lingered long and hard on her legs and where the bottom of her mini-skirt ended. The pale-faced, slimy store owner came out behind the counter.

“I hope so,” she said faking her most earnest voice. “I’ve tried three other stores so far, and well, I just can’t seem to find what I’m looking for.” The very fact that a stunningly beautiful young girl would walk around the seedy streets of Rimbor wearing a halter top and micro-skirt with high heels was suspect to begin with; but there was something about Lolita that caused so many men to miss the obvious. They found her gentle and easily overpowered; they found her vulnerable so they let their guard down. Again and again she proved them very, very wrong. It was a costly miscalculation.

“We’ve got all sorts of items of interest, miss,” he continued. He was still somewhat suspicious—Lolita knew she’d have to lay a whopper of a story on him. “Jewelry perhaps?”

“That’s exactly what I’m looking for!” she replied, her eyes lighting up and her posture changing to show some enthusiasm. She leaned forward to look at the jewelry, purposely bringing her body ever closer to him. She would never forgive herself if she leaned her breasts against him or showed too much leg; instead she’d have to be very judicious in how she teased him. Creeps like him lived for the tease anyway. “You see, my family is very wealthy. But my boyfriend…well, he comes from the other side of the tracks. And we’re going to be married. But…he feels like he needs to give me an engagement ring. Or something equally as valuable. So he feels like a man. I was hoping I’d buy it for him…and well, I could somehow leave it where he would find it and then solve that problem.”

The story was just stupid enough to make the shop-owner believe her. He wanted to believe she was a ditzy young girl. He wanted to believe women as beautiful as her were stupid. And he wanted to believe that others valued money and jewelry as much as he did. Being close to her…and seeing a potential sale…he took the bait. “You said something of equal value…such as…?”

“A necklace, for one” she said looking up and flashing him a wide smile. She blushed and looked away as if she were embarrassed. “I do love necklaces.”

“Who doesn’t?” the shop-owner joked creepily. “I have a few here.” Her now showing a greedy side was clinched it for the man.

“This blue one looks perfect,” she said pointing. “Where is it from?”

“Oh, these are from all over,” the shop-keeper lied. “You never know where they might be from.”

Indeed, though Lolita. I wonder how many others are the result of murder? She knew the blue necklace was here, freshly carved from sapphire; when a well to do Winathian family was murdered by space-pirates, they were sure to take the spoils with them. Where better to sell these things than Rimbor? She had studied the collection of jewelry and worked tirelessly to see what was missing; her data analysis gave her a firm idea. Picking the items most likely to end up on the black market—and where they would most likely be—was a knack for her. Now, to finish the job.

“May I try it on?” she said, looking up at him. Now she held eye contact firmly, and could see it caught him off guard. Something else else in him was now seeing her for the first time in a different way, and it made her want to vomit. The shop-keeper was thinking of ways he could get something else he wanted more than anything. He mistook the stare as seduction.

“Y-yes…” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied, and in a spilt second turned around so her back was too him. She lifted up her hair so he could place the necklace on her. His breathing began to become belabored and as he leaned forward, she leaned back ever so slightly so her hair hit his face and he got a healthy breath full of her perfume. Her slender body was always just out of reach.

He began to put the necklace on. In her left hand she held a hairclip, which she dropped as if by accident. It landed right onto his hands, and showing fast reflexes, he caught it. “Oh, I’m so clumsy,” she laughed.

“No worries, miss,” he said, as he turned it over in his hand to hand to her, and that was when he realized it was razorsharp. The hairclip cut his fingers open just slightly. “Ouch!” he yelled, backing away. Then, regaining his composure, he stepped forward. “I seem to have cut myself,” he said.

“You have,” she said now, backing away. She was holding the necklace now, which the shop-keeper realized she must have grabbed in the confusion. “And now this charade can end. Sit down Mr. Vah.”

“Excuse me?” he said, suddenly feeling a wave of panic. But as he motioned to move forward, he felt woozy. Dizziness overtook him, and then nausea.

“Let me give you some advice, Rimborian. The next time a beautiful young girl flirts with you, its because she wants something. Now, I have the necklace. We both know you acquired it from the murderers of those rich Winathians. We both know you were all too aware they were unloading the cargo after they killed the father and did terrible things to the mother. Which, in my mind, makes you no different than those animals.”

“N-no…got it all wrong…had to buy…or…I’d be finished…”

“Oh, you are finished. It’s only a matter of how much. I can use the necklace to run a thousand different tests to trace it back to those pirates and find them. Or you can just tell me right now and save me about 24 hours work. 24 hours which can make a world of difference…considering the two children they abducted are still alive.”

The shop-keeper said nothing but just looked at her with venomous eyes.

“Very well. Know this. I’m a Legionnaire. Codename Oracle. I will find those children. And the next time I see my friend Timberwolf, who gave me your name, I’m going to tell him you didn’t cooperate with me and you called him a joke. And then he can eviscerate you himself.”

“Wait!” he said, as she turned away.

He spilled.

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“Well done, Lolita,” said Ambassador Mirenna Helene of the United Planets. “I’m not sure how you were able to find the children but you did it. They were relatively unharmed and have been returned to Winath.”

“Unharmed,” she said to herself. Except for the trauma of watching their parents brutalized. “I’m glad to have been of service.”

“You’ve done a great thing here. Once again you’ve proven to be invaluable. That family is of vital importance to feeding the United Planets…”

“I would have done it for any family,” she said, cutting off the Ambassador.

“Of course,” said the Ambassador. Unlike with Cobalt Kid or Timberwolf, Mirenna was still prepared to use kid gloves when she needed to with Lolita. “Thank you, Lolita. We’ll be in touch.”

As Mirenna hung up the omni-com, Lolita reflected on a job well done. The spy game was one that left a pit in your stomach at the end, but she was good at it. She still had to resort to threatening someone with Timberwolf’s name, though. Do I really want people to fear my name like that, though? Is that who you want to be? She knew the answer was no.

She also knew Mirenna was testing her, ever so slightly. Giving her little missions which overtime would develop a long-standing relationship between them. To try and get Lolita to think of her as a mother. To make Lolita an asset of Mirenna’s, to be used when needed.

It wasn’t going to work. Many women had under-estimated her too over the years. And they too were proven very, very wrong. It was a costly miscalculation.