Imperial Orders

♕The Heist♕

"Yes, I would like them all, and no, I don't need any help carrying them. I'm not as delicate as I look and I don't trust you thieving Nardyskians with my things. This luggage is worth more than your entire obsolete spaceport!" A very cranky Mrs. Speiss stood at the collection desk with her hands poised on her hips, looking down the bridge of her nose at the clerk, a partially bald middle-aged man dressed in an oversized shirt and dusty overalls that stretched generously over the bulge of his stomach. Tuofah, who sat inconspicuously in the corner of the office with her bowl in her lap, admired the man for his lack of a reaction to Mrs. Speiss' fiery requests. 

"Eddie!" The clerk called over his shoulder, presumably to his assistant in some back room. "Bring out a cart for Carlotta Speiss, would ya?"

Tuofah couldn't help but silently snicker. Of course her name was Carlotta.

"Carlotta Speiss?" came the shrill, distant reply. "You mean Miss I'm-Rich-Young-Blonde-And-Married-To-A-Councilor? The one who's got five million suitcases for a one-week trip? I don't reckon one cart'll be enough, sir!" 

"She's right here, you oaf!" the clerk fumed. "Bring out the damn suitcases!" 

A harsh squeaking noise was followed by the displacement of a panel of wood in the wall behind the clerk. Out stepped a scrawny shrimp of a boy pulling behind him by a single protruding handle a metal cart loaded with at least ten small, frilly suitcases. 

"Thank you," Carlotta spat without an iota of gratitude in her voice, taking the handle harshly from the boy. "My husband is the head of the Council's Tactile Ministry, and he will hear about your poor service and blatant rudeness to customers. Good day to you." Pulling her feathered overcoat tighter about her shoulders and adjusting her ridiculous sunglasses, she tramped out of the humid office, lugging her cart of suitcases behind her. 

"...Good day to you, too, ma'am," the clerk sighed deeply, not bothering to look at Carlotta Speiss as she exited the door, followed closely by Tuofah. 

"Honey, why didn't you hire a porter? You'll break your back trying to move that luggage yourself." 

The faint words, barely audible to Tuofah, emanated from Carlotta's earpiece. The Tactile inched closer to her, straining to hear her reply. 

"Oh, you can't trust these Nardyskians. You won't believe what one of them just said about me! Tell Hodgkins to get the ship ready- I'll be off to the restroom to see if I can repair what damage this heat's been doing to my complexion, but when I'm done, I want out immediately. And please do me a favor and never book this godforsaken port again!" 

The restroom. Perfect. She wouldn't be able to take her mountain of luggage in with her- she would have to leave it somewhere, and Tuofah would be the first to discover where that 'somewhere' was. 

"Forget it, kid. You won't get a penny from Speiss." 

Tuofah turned around to see an elderly beggar resting against a pillar, his bare feet stretched out in front of him. She fidgeted with her torn coat in embarrassment; the man had seen her follow Carlotta out of the collection office. 

"It's...it's worth a try?" Tuofah replied, slightly unsure of herself. This was enough to get Carlotta's attention. 

"Will you derelict pieces of Nardyskian scum leave me alone, or must I call the police?" she turned around, pure disgust filling her piercing, green eyes. 

Tuofah turned around, taking a few slow steps away. This was enough to satisfy Carlotta, who then continued her luggage-burdened trek toward the triangular building that housed the private area's only set of restrooms. The woman was easily provoked, but luckily, she was just as easily pacified. Watching the shape of her conspicuous silk dress recede out of the corner of her eye, Tuofah turned back toward her, this time in a lazy arc rather than a purposeful twist. She followed Carlotta at a much farther distance, now aware of the beggars all around her. Every time one of them caught her eye, she paused deliberately and looked up at the spaceships that cut through the sky above her, trying to seem as if she was just sauntering along without any regard for the Reloriose socialite a few yards in front of her. She could not afford to be detected again- she would surely be apprehended, and one scan of her fingerprint would expose her as the daughter of a criminal.