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Dressed to Kill......


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(( Luxury Quarters, Stargazer Hotel, Orion ))


Her feet were exquisitely pedicured in the French style, her long, muscular body tanned honey brown, her curly blonde hair streaming down her naked back to just below her shoulders. A jeweled belly button ring hung from her pierced navel, and aqua blue eye shadow, matching her dress, was meticulously applied. Her long, tanned legs were freshly shaved, and she looked down at the four inch stiletto aqua blue sandals lying at the foot of the bed, giving the six foot woman an even more towering presence…:::


She scented her body with a combination of fragrances...one from Risa, one from Earth (Paris, more specifically), combining with a special oil from Orion itself. The fragrance was designed to be intoxicatingly powerful to the right male who took in the subtle fragrance...to others, she would just smell good. Designed to not lose its allure for several hours, the woman was sure sometime that evening, she would ensnare her prey…:::


Her aqua blue mini dress lay on the bed. The halter top dress was tantalizingly short, with a deep, plunging neckline which ran down to just below her navel. Her only lament was that she had not been blessed with the most impressive bustline, but the realization that a bigger bust would tend to get in the way of her other activities, it was a trade off she could live with. They were not huge, but constant training ensured that they were perky, divided, and noticeable. Two-sided tape had proved its worth over the centuries, and as she slipped the wisp of a dress over her head, she applied it to the areas needed to keep her breasts obvious, and in place.


Her fingernails were also aqua blue, just slightly longer over her fingertips...no false nails here..her hands allowed her to do the occasionally delicate work she did, so long false nails were a burden which was unneeded.


A perfect, understated dash of aqua blue eye shadow adorned her eyelids. Standing in her bare feet, she looked in the mirror. Another regret crossed her mind. Here she was, checking in under an assumed name, in a dress she would never wear again, to charm a man she had grown to hate. Months of careful surveillance involving several operatives were going to culminate tonight in her administering the most harshest of penalties to a man who was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Federation citizens and Starfleet personnel. That was not her regret...her regret was that she would have loved to have worn it for the massive, brash, but gentlemanly Special Forces Marine Hannibal Parker. A month ago, they met in a bar, took out four Nausicans, then spent a fantastic three days together. Kamela had never believed in love at first sight, but she knew that weekend was special. While they made no special plans, she knew they would find each other again.


Putting on her high heel sandals, Starfleet Intelligence operative Kamela Allison was now ready to take on her assignment...a very nasty-tempered human from Alpha Centauri by the name of Phineas Tredeau...but it wasn’t his temper which interested SFI….it was his appetite for his willingness and ability to sell prohibited weapons to those not friendly to the Federation which had to be terminated with extreme prejudice...Tredeau had few weaknesses, but one was his Achilles’ heel...his desire of beautiful, tall, blond women. On a planet of beautiful women, where sex was as easy as saying hello, Kamela was the perfect bait. She knew where he was going to be...cultivated intelligence had made sure he would be in the club across the street soon. He was known to be punctual, but she had planned to make her entrance after he had eaten and was enjoying the scenery of semi-naked women and the opportunity to make a deal...an activity she would circumvent permanently.


Grabbing her aqua blue clutch purse, Kamela headed out into the night...she would not return here when the deed was done. No matter how careful she was, she could leave no traces of her presence and would make her escape to the Federation embassy, then off the outlaw planet. There would be no DNA, no fingerprints...only the lingering odor of her fragrance would be the only acknowledgement that she had ever been there. Cutting off the lights, Kamela headed out the door, her heels clicking on the marble floor……..



Lieutenant Kamela Allison


Operative

Starfleet Intelligence

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