Agent in Distress Ch. 01

Her clothes were gone. The basket remained, but her cloak, tunic, pants and shoes were nowhere to be found. Instead, she found a soft, thin material - white with red trim. She lifted it up, puzzled. It looked like underwear to her. Concerned, Lana looked about the small room, but there was nowhere to hide anything; clearly someone had taken her clothes. Concern was then replaced by annoyance, and she poked her head through the curtain.

She nearly bumped heads with her slave girl assistant Nika, who was right outside waiting impatiently.

"Lady Torina!" blurted the girl. "Please, we must hurry, we are late!"

Lana would have none of it. "Nika, where are my clothes and shoes?" she asked, impatient.

The girl's eyes widened. "Ahh, milady, did they not tell you? Your garments are not appropriate for an audience with Lord Khan. I . . . I was told to bring you something suitable."

"Who told you that?" demanded Lana, clutching the towel to herself. "This is an outrage, bring me my clothing immediately!"

The slave girl's anxiety grew, and she seemed at a loss.

"Please milady!" she begged. "Our customs require that females in his Lordship's presence be properly attired. Your manly clothing would offend him. Your master, the ambassador, already agreed to the order. I . . . picked your attire myself. If the white dress doesn't please you . . . I can pick something else for you," she added helpfully.

Lana sputtered, "My master?? Veers is not my master, he is . . ."

She suddenly was reminded of the words of her trainer. "Peace, tranquility, be at one with the universe . . ." had said her dead Elder. Dyrra had always been so calm, not prone to "female outbursts," as some of the male Arbiters called them. Lana had much to learn.

"Oh never mind, very well," she said, sighing. "Where is this dress I am supposed to wear then?" Lana forced her mind to begin a meditation routine, feeling that welcoming calm return. She should respect the local customs, no matter how backward. Quaint, not backward, she told herself, that was a better word.


The next few minutes tested her calm. Lana scowled at herself in the mirror in the main bath area. First she'd had to put on the tiny white panties, tying the strings at one hip. The two-piece outfit was terribly provocative, in white with red trim. A skirt sat low on her hips and dropped to mid-thigh, while leaving her belly bare up to below her breasts. Unlike the serving girl outfit she'd had to wear earlier that day, this one was semi-sheer, and very revealing. The slave girl had given her matching white sandals whose leather straps tied around her ankles. Her back was bare from the neck down to the lower back, with just two knotted strings holding the top on her, one on the back of her neck, the other lower on her middle back, much like a swimming suit from her home world. Only no one swam in such an outfit. The strings ran under and between her breasts and pressed the soft, white material against her curves. Lana also felt strangely exposed as the air touched her bare back. And the material was so soft, especially the white panties. It made her very aware of her sensitive skin.

Lana realized she was holding her hands in front of her. She never realized she could look this way, for she'd never worn much besides her training clothes, not since she'd entered the Institute. It was almost worse than being naked. The dress made her feel feminine and sexy, and the feeling made the young Arbiter uncomfortable. It absolutely would not do, and she turned to the slave girl Nika, who was admiring her figure with glee. Nika saw her frowning.


"Milady, you don't like it? It is Calambrian, can't you tell? It looks perfect on you!"

"Calam-what? No, Nika, I told you I am not Calambrian!" said Lana, shaking her head. "Nika, listen to me. I . . . I thought I could do it, but . . . I can't. Not looking like this. I want you to go and bring Ambassador Veers here to speak to me immediately."

The girl frowned. "Milady, it is customary for women to wear such clothing in Dellune. Nobody will think it odd to see you dressed so. You should be pleased that you can wear the dress so well."

Lana frowned, nodding to herself. Nika no doubt spoke the truth, the women did dress like this. In fact some women from her home world did as well. It was just a shock for Lana, coming from the cloistered walls of the Institute. And she was meant to meet the King in such an outfit? How would he take her seriously?

"Please, mistress, we have no time, we must go!" urged Nika, visibly anxious.

Lana shook her head. "Nika, you're my assistant, remember? You're supposed to listen to me, not give me orders? Now go fetch the ambassador and bring him here, please!" With that order, the girl dashed away, leaving Lana to look with embarrassment at the mirror. She tried to adjust the dress to somehow better cover the curves of her body, but it was no use. Whoever had designed it obviously never intended it to hide anything.

A minute later, she heard two pairs of footsteps returning and she opened the curtain. "Max!" she shouted, leaving the changing room. "I--!"

Instead of Max, Nika had brought the blue-uniformed administrator, Lamare.

"What seems to be the problem, Lady Torina?" he asked, clearly impatient. Then his eyes widened as he saw her. The outfit was obviously designed to elicit just that reaction from men.

Lana held her hands awkwardly in front of her chest, blushing slightly.

"I. . . . I need to speak to Max. I cannot wear this," she blurted.

Lamare looked at her up and down with a look that made her blush further. "It suits you perfectly, and I might add is much more appealing than your warrior's robes. What is the problem?"

Lana suspected he knew exactly what the problem was, but she said it anyway.

"You must be joking. I cannot wear this to an official function! An Arbiter . . . does not wear such things. I wore your serving girl uniform because the circumstances demanded it. What is your excuse for this travesty now? This is an outrage, I demand to have my clothing returned!"

Lamare smiled patiently. "I assure you, My Lady, you look stunning. I believe the ambassador said he is in charge of this meeting, and you are to follow his orders?" Then he tried a different tact. "Miss Torina, you yourself requested the utmost secrecy, did you not? Dressed like this, you will be just another Dellune female, your secret will be intact. In your cloak and . . . leathers, you look like you're an assassin, from another world. Word will spread quickly in this castle of your presence."

Lana looked at him. He made a lot of sense, she hadn't thought of that. Her target would go to ground if word got to him that a GWA assassin was looking for him.

"I'm afraid we do not have time for further discussion," said Lamare. "Come with me immediately. Your servant has already earned a punishment for your tardiness, I would not like to add to it."

Punishment? "What?" she demanded. "You can't punish her for this, I . . . I will go, but don't you dare punish my assistant!" she said. Then she regretted giving in to his bullying. She glanced at the slave girl, who stood there with her head bowed. Lamare didn't respond, he simply turned and walked out, clearly expecting them to follow. Nika looked up at her then, pleading with her eyes. Lana couldn't believe what has happening, the whole scenario was surreal. She preferred to deal with situations with her wits, but this? She finally let out a long sigh, as the two of them hurried to catch up with Lamare.

Ten minutes later, Lana realized it wasn't as bad as she'd thought. It was worse. One man after another had felt it necessary to stare in appreciation at her new dress, and to comment to each other about her, as if she weren't even present. Men of her world had manners, but not here. Bad enough to see and hear them, but her mind sensed their pleasure as well. She sensed simple appreciation from some, but from others, it was more . . . she sensed desire, wanting, possession. Lana was so unused to such thoughts from the men she was used to . . . male students at the Institute, who would never dare to have such thoughts about a fellow student.

It was embarrassing and thrilling at the same time. In particular, she'd felt a strange elation at the handsome Warrick's appreciative comments, and she tried not to think about what that meant. But again, she could sense nothing from the tall warrior, and that worried her. What if he didn't find her attractive at all? Perhaps he preferred blondes, like many of the females she'd seen on Dellune. Then she pushed those thoughts aside. You are an Arbiter, act like one, she thought.

They'd been brought to meet Lord Khan, finally, and Lana tried to act natural, trying to ignore her feelings of vulnerability. She had little success, for the sensations of the soft material on her skin distracted her from concentration, and the constant barrage of mental images from the men compounded her feeling of embarrassment. The Arbiter finally resorted to closing down her own mind. In her training, they'd taught her to bring down a protective barrier on her mind. It impeded her senses, which in this case meant she could no longer feel the pressure of so many lustful male minds.

Her instructors would not have been pleased that she'd resorted to using her mental shield. Simple concentration and inner calm should be enough, they'd have said. Well, she thought, during training they'd never paraded her half-naked in front of attractive barbarian men. Men who had no qualms about broadcasting their desires into the ether for her to receive. But she nevertheless changed her mind and released her telepathic-induced control. I'm going to handle the situation without it, she told herself.

They were brought into the main hall soon enough, and as the grand, ornate double doors swung open, Lana's mouth fell open as she looked up at the vast, painted ceiling. The skill and attention to detail were simply magnificent, and the paint seem to almost glow with soothing colors. The walls were lined with elaborately decorated armored suits and matching shields; it was both a throne room and treasure room it seemed.

"Ah, welcome to my home," bellowed a voice. It must have been Lord Khan, for he was another massive Dellune warrior - were they all so huge? Khan was dressed in an exquisitely trimmed gold and blue battle uniform, and Lana found herself impressed. The warrior moved quickly and confidently to close the gap, and take the hand of Ambassador Veers, so they could exchange the traditional greeting. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he turned his attention to Lana, who stood behind and to the side of Veers, trying not to feel self-conscious.

"And this lovely young thing, who is she, Max?" said Khan, looking at Lana, his eyes roving up her toned bare legs and shapely hips, over her flat belly and jutting curves, before meeting her eyes with a strong gaze that made her blush and want to look down. Behind the eyes, her mind registered a powerful sense of . . . appreciation perhaps . . . and not for her appearance. In fact she sensed little in the way of desire at all. She imagined this man was so accustomed to beautiful women in his presence that he was almost immune. Part of her found that disappointing.

"Your majesty," said Max, waving his hand in front of Lana. "This is Lana Torina, Arbiter of the Galactic World Alliance." Lana nodded and bowed for the leader. She noticed when she bowed that her breasts bounced in the soft top, and she frowned. Lord Khan was smiling and looking at her, his eyes not quite reaching hers, but seeming to aim lower. She felt ridiculous even before he spoke.

"An Arbiter, eh Max? Is that your word for slave? Have you brought me a gift? I must say she is magnificent! Is she Calambrian?"

Lana's jaw dropped, and her fists balled up. The frustrations from the bathing area built up and she exploded. "I am not a slave, or a gift! And I am not Calambrian!" she burst out without thinking. "I am a warrior, a diplomat . . . and . . . and I should not be . . . s-stared at like some exotic animal!"

Khan's face widened into a grin, as if he already knew, and Lana suddenly felt like she'd walked into his trap.

"Yes, of course you are," replied Lord Khan, chuckling. "I was only curious if the Arbiters' famed calm and rationality held true for the females."

Lana's face reddened deeply, for he'd laid out an obvious trap, and she'd walked into it like a bumbling novice. She glanced to the left and noticed Lamare, the chief administrator, was glaring at her, and when he spoke his tone was scornful.

"Such outbursts by a female are not permitted in my Lord's throne room, Lady Torina," he said, glancing at his boss. "If you were a Dellune female, you would be soundly punished."

Lana couldn't help responding, glaring back at Lamare.

"Yes, I know how you treat your women. I find it completely unacceptable that you are going to punish the young lady who helped me."

Lamare's mouth became a flat line. "Because of your impertinent words, I will double her punishment. Care to bring the matter up again, and I will triple it!"

Lana was outraged. "You petty little man, taking out your frustrations on a helpless girl! Max, I will not stand for this! I-"

"Silence!" roared Lord Khan, surprising everyone. "Max, I invite you to my home, and this is how you repay me? Perhaps the Alliance's presence here is a mistake after all?"

Veers almost jumped in the air, so eager was he to respond.

"I-your majesty, my apologies!" he blurted, shooting a dirty look at the girl beside him. "She is . . . young, and hotheaded, I assure you-"

"Hotheaded?" hissed Lana, her fists balled at her sides. "I did not come here to-"

Veers was fuming as he watched the proceedings unraveling.

"That's it! I will not allow you to jeopardize these vital negotiations! I knew it was a mistake for them to send a hotheaded female student who hadn't even graduated yet.. I order you to return to the ship, at once!"

If she'd had her sword handy, she would have lopped his little bald head off and kicked it across the marble floor. She imagined pulling the weapon from its scabbard, taking aim at his pudgy little neck . . . Lana jerked as if stung. Something clicked, and like a flood, her training rushed back to her. What had gotten into her? Displays of anger were forbidden for an Arbiter, and vanity led to ruin. She must focus. Fighting to control her anger, she began to relax, bringing down her mental shield, which always calmed her. Maybe it was a crutch, but she needed it right now.

In seconds, Lana felt the images and feelings roiling about in her mind subside, and her shoulders relaxed their tension.. She should never have let things degenerate to this point, and now she'd have to fix it.

"Forgive me, ambassador, I was out of line. I will follow your wishes, there's no need for me to return."

Her apparent calm only made Veers angrier.

"Oh really? Now you're calm? I-"

Lord Khan interrupted him. "Max, this fiery-tongued Arbiter has already helped us immensely in this morning's diplomatic meeting, so she can stay, unless you yourself have some hidden talents we don't know about?"

"But—she . . ." Max sighed and nodded. "Yes, you are right of course, your majesty. Your wisdom humbles us all."

Lana almost snorted at his pandering, but then she glanced at Lamare, and he didn't seem satisfied.

"Milord," he spoke, eyeing the young Arbiter in the skimpy white outfit. "I cannot allow this female to remain so close to you. She is dangerous, we don't know what she is capable of. Now that she seems unable to control her temper, I must protest her presence."

Lana tried to look calm, but her eyes narrowed as she looked at Lamare. She would let things play out, for she couldn't risk any more outbursts. Khan was also looking at the girl, but he looked doubtful.

"Lamare, I understand your concern, and she does seem to have a bit of a temper. But she must be present, I see no alternative."

Lamare kept pressing, "But Milord, your safety comes foremost. Perhaps we could delay the negotiations until they send a new Arbiter?"

"That would be entirely unnecessary," said Lana. "I am an Arbiter; I can restrain myself." She looked at the massive King. "Surely your king has nothing to fear from an unarmed woman half his size?"

"Milord, this is nonsense." The deep voice belonged to Warrick, who had moved to her side and placed a large hand on her shoulder. "I'll accept the Arbiter's assurances that there will be no more outbursts. Allow me to sit next to her, to ensure she . . . behaves."

Lana turned and looked up into his eyes, trying to read his inscrutable expression. She reached out with her mind but was stymied as before.

Everyone looked at Lord Khan to see what he would say. The leader simply shrugged and nodded.

"Thank you, Master Warrick," said Lana, smiling at the handsome warrior. "I . . .am having a bit of trouble adjusting to your local customs regarding women. But I assure you all, there will be no more outbursts. May we begin discussions then?"

"Yes, excellent, let us waste no more time," said Khan, amused at the exchange between his right hand man, and the beautiful young female. "It is our custom to conduct negotiations over a meal. Please, come to our banquet hall."