The Cover Story (Omega)

"We met inna bar on Omega, actually, just a few floors down. Of course, the bar ain't there anymore, but- Oh. Uh. Hrm. Well, I think you'd need somethin' light, like a Mantis 250 or somethin' like that. I dunno, I don't use pistols much m'self. I could look around for ya, I guess. Ennyway, what was I sayin'?"

"All I got is that shitty carnifex you gave me a couple years ago. It's kind of not doin' the job."

Shit, he was trying to start up his story again. Silel had to think fast.

"Hey, ever fucked somethin' that wasn't a krogan? What's the weirdest species you've had sex with?"

It was a little disgusting, and she didn't really want to know the answer, but if it would get him off of telling her a legend... well, it just might be worth it. Hell, maybe he'd even be so revolted, he'd stop.

"Ennyway, the bar was-"

Kirok stopped mid-sentence and just looked at Sil. The confusion on his face was so deep you could use it to shore up mining operations in a storm.

"Uhhhhhhhh. Dat's awfully... personal, Sil. I don't think y'WANT to know them stories."

oh thank the lord she didn't believe in

"Hey, I fucked on your couch." She retaliated. "We're buddies, right? Anyways." Hopefully, he wouldn't respond properly. She slid him a third drink, noticing his current one was empty. "Maybe you should take the rest of the night off, we're getting close to closing time and Blasto over there," she nodded to the batarian bouncer, "seems to have things in control."

The confusion settled in deeper.

"Look, I, uh, I gotta.... I gotta go. Yeah. Early night. I. Uh. I. Yeah. Later."

With a panicked look in his eyes, Kirok started striding for the door, so insanely awkward with this topic of conversation that he had to FLEE.

It had worked a little too well. Silel decided to keep in mind that, if Kirok grew out of hand again in the future, she had a go-to topic to interrupt him, but for now he was wasting a perfectly good drink she'd just made especially for him.

The result was the comedic sight of Silel dashing from behind the bar in four-inch heels, then, as soon as she caught up with the krogan (laughing all the while), whirling around so that she could try and push him back.

"Hey, I'm just fucking with you, dinobrains! Come on, I'll stop. Please?"

Kirok gave Sil another calculating look.

"Awright. Just... don't remind me 'bout Cal's balls on m'couch. Or whatever turians got. I don't need t'know. Never do I need t'know. EVER."

Allowing himself to be steered back to the seat, Kirok settled down and started guzzling the drink. Oh lord. The images that sprang unbidden into his mind.

He would have to burn the couch now.

"Uh, ennyways. Yeah. Y'hire enny new dancers or ennything? Ennybody I need t'know about?"

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon, you pussy."

The translation did not work properly. Kirok was likely confused as Silel redirected him to his seat at the bar.

"Actuaaaallly," the word came out sing-song as she propped her ass up on the bar, (intentionally) drawing the attention of several customers. "I did. Look on stage. See the light-blue gal with the silver tentacles? Her name's Pelia. It's an asari flower, I guess, probably the same color as her, you know how it goes."

A thoughtful pause.

"She's real nice, 'round your age actually. Maybe you should talk to her sometime?"

Confusion was replaced with suspicion. Kirok glanced down at his drink as his yellow eyes narrowed into thin slits.

"Sil. Y'ain't tryin' t'set me up, is you?"

Silel's shoulders rose and fell into another shrug. Her krogan friend wasn't going to live forever, she figured, and hell, having company was good sometimes... So why not? Still, she wasn't about to push him after thoroughly disgusting him just a few moments before.

"No, just sayin', in case you wanted someone else to talk to." She snuck a drink from her martini. The asari in question paused on stage to laugh at a customer's insipid joke, then continued to twirl around one of the poles. "I noticed you put in for some time off next month already. You goin' on vacation?"

Kirok's eyes grew shifty again. He started eyeing another one of the dancers. Oh lord, don't do that, she'll just set y'up with that one instead, dammit.

Turning his gaze to the... wall, apparently, Kirok tried not to make eye contact.

"Er, not a vacation. That prospectin' group I was tellin' y'about? They found a source of gold on some tiny moon. Want security on th' mission in case there be enny claim jumpers. Besides, I'm flyin' 'em there ennyways, might as well protect m'paycheck, right? It may take some time, but I'll message you when I'm back inna system. Maybe bring yew an' Cal a nugget or two if'n they lemme have one."

The krogan slammed the empty glass on the tabletop, clearly asking for another one.

Fortunately for Kirok, Silel was very easily distracted by shiny, expensive things. She listened with increasing interest as he detailed the next (imaginary) prospecting assignment. While the krogan was still talking, she wiggled off of the bartop - another ploy to the customers, that - and set to making him yet another drink.

"No shit? That'd be cool. I haven't had any real gold jewelry in years."

The last time she had, she'd had to pawn it to afford meals.

"So where's a good place to buy a gun these days?"

"Aw, hell, Sil. Y'don't hafta buy a gun. I've got plenny of ones y'can have. Whatcha lookin' for? Shotgun? SMG? I've gotta couple of old ones just sittin' in m'weapons locker I ain't never use no more - hell, some of them ain't NEVER been used. Still got th' wrappin' on em. I'll bring a couple by next time I'm workin', let y'choose one. How 'bout that?"

Kirok downed the drink and blinked.

"Okay, that one had some hair on it."

"For free? Man, that'd be cool."

Silel folded her arms on the bar and looked up thoughtfully. She wasn't especially well-versed in guns; she knew that some were small, some were big, some hurt a lot, and some were just meant to scare.

"Uhm. Well, the carnifex is shit, but I'd need something light like it... you know, something that could fit in a purse. It's just, the thing can't aim at all, and it fires like a fuckin' punch to my face."

Noting the krogan was finished already, she started on yet another drink.

"Hey, you're not gonna die on the way home, are you? Need a cab?"

The krogan just looked at Sil. It was such a withering look.

"Sil. Hon. I done lived through th' Deathdealer on Scorin 4, th' black fungus plague, Old Ripper, workin' fer fucking Abattoir, Tethys Reave, an' the goddamned Destruction o' Palaven. I think one namby pamby lil' drink won't kill me none. Keep pourin', noob. An' yeah, I gotta light pistol y'may like. It's s'larian, but I think you'll be able t'handle it. Jist don't go shootin' enny krogan with it, b'cuz it's got the stoppin' power of a bee sting."

The look was more than enough to stop Silel in her tracks.

Hearing the name of "Abattoir" just sealed the deal. She ducked her chin as Kirok mentioned the red-scaled drell, her hands rapidly busying themselves with tidying up the bar. It needed a good scrub-down after the day, but by and large, it was already fairly clean and organized.

"Didn't know you worked with... those types," she said after a moment's silence. Quickly, she continued, "Glad you got a gun that can fit. I just need something for safety, you know? There's a lot of weirdos around here, and Cal hasn't had time to walk me home lately."

Ignorant of the awkwardness and full of the heady memories of yesterday, Kirok plunged on.

"Who, Abattoir? Yeah, I did some work for 'im. Not too long ago, o'course, but - well, that's a story fer another time. An' yeah, y'ever need protection from whatever, I got it. Hell, maybe set you up with some human sized armor. Ain't gonna be much, but it's better'n walkin' round without it. Mebbe a vest'r somethin'. We'll think 'bout it later. An' yer right about the weirdos."

Kirok's gaze tracked through the customers. Somewhere, a volus was taping a credstick to the top of his head and bouncing at a stripper.

"Seems they all con'gergate here."

"Abattoir, yeah, great, maybe some other day, let's focus on the guns."

At the mention of armor, Silel expressed intrigue. She had never owned a set of armor before, and the prospect of some extra protection was... tempting, to say in the least. "You could do that? That stuff's expensive, isn't it?"

The weirdos in the club proper went by unnoticed. They were background noise - it was the ones outside she worried about.

"Yeah. Lemme see if I can ask some friends o'mine for summat. Won't be pretty, or - well, you ain't trained fer wearin' serious armor, so none of th' military shit. But I'll see what I kin get you. It'll work th' same."

Kirok drained his drink and shoved the glass back to Sil.

"One more fer th' road?"

Her own piece of armor. It made her giddy; she was moving up in the world, and the potential of some serious equipment upgrades would prove it all the more.

"Sure, Kir." The woman smiled at him. Say what she would to the man, but damn, was it good to have a krogan for a friend.

Fin