Private Undercover Sky-High

[Aurelia Xonavi]

Another night and another late shift at The Tavern. The woman was tired, but money had to be made if she were to keep up with the bills, the nanny-nurse biot subscription and clinic invoices. Just another 2 more hours. The slim holo tablet strapped on her arm buzzed, alerting her to a new order underlined in gold. It wasn't often when she was selected to attend to an Elite patron - as the title implied, were usually the most affluent patrons, the tips almost always in generous multiples when she ever tended to one of their tables. It was also mandated that the table had somewhat of her exclusive attention - and it meant fewer exhausting customers for her to attend to. It was quite a surprise, to say the least.

From the bar, she collected the drink, swerving past droids and other busy alleys of waitstaff towards table 27. The emerald-haired waitress paused at a distance, she knew an Elite member when she saw one and this young man, likely not much older than she was, did not fit the description on the tab - but the surveillance would pick faults up eventually and usually fairly quickly. Nevertheless, with a smile she approached, setting down the round-short stemmed snifter glass swirling with amber liquid. "Single malt Corellian whiskey for Skrol Murgjon." The tone conveyed her scepticism as crisply as the vowels of the name were enunciated in an accent thick and foreign. It was her job to serve and entertain, maintaining the security around here was not on the payroll. She quite liked getting to know her customers, especially those without an entourage - they usually had the most stories to tell.

"And what brings you here to the 297th floor of Qena, Skrol Murgjon?" She began the small talk, again, repeating the name to emphasise but this time in a tone that had shifted more amicably with an almost flirty air - the usual on the job.

Damian A. Drake ​

 

[Damian A. Drake]

FLOOR 297: QENOIR SKY-TAVERN - QENOIRA TOWER - QENA PRIME
Aurelia Xonavi

Work had been especially . . . taxing this evening, to say the least. Sometimes, the job came easy and, sometimes, the job proved difficult. Today had been grueling. Nursing the soreness of recently mended wounds and fresh needle marks hidden under the decorum of a his button up shirt and jacket, there was a certain measure of displeasure in his expression for a moment as he took a deep breathe--seething through his teeth before shutting his mouth quickly--to work through the pain. Stimpacks were useful but use too many at once and the effects became reduced. He needed all the effectiveness of the painkillers and bacta he could get.

Although, a part of his mind wondered if he should have used as many as he could. Still, this was not his first time managing the mission nor himself through injury.

The identichip and creditchip he had borrowed had proven useful entering past the security of the Qenoira Tower. The original owner would not need it for the evening. Gazing through his glasses at the menu, Drake's eyes gave the occasional cursory glance at the other patrons of the tavern. His eyeglasses scanning through the faces and voices of all the people. No red flags so far besides the occasional suspicion of criminal activity, but nothing to indicate yet he had been followed nor would any of the patrons be predisposed to getting their hands dirty in the establishment.

Advanced artificial intelligence security or not, Drake preferred to do his own inspections when it came to casing a joint and its security. Casting a quick look back the at the menu and tapping on the table with one finger, Drake's gaze only perked up when he heard a female voice speak the most perfect set of words. The tapping stopped, and a small smile graced his lips at the sight of his preferred drink of choice. He would need several more of these before the night was over to help dull the ache throughout his body.

Skrol Murgjon. What a terrible name.

Although, the waitstaff attending him was a sight for sore eyes too. Not touching the drink yet, his attention shifted towards the woman. For a moment, his mind tried placing the accent but he was more occupied by the underlining note of skepticism in her voice. An important note for later if he wished to maintain his cover and lie low. Tampering with identichips and creditchips would buy him all the time he needed for the evening.

Unless the AI was much smarter than it looked.

"Thank you," Drake gave a polite nod, refraining from touching the glass and instead removing his glasses off the frame of his face.

"Business," Drake pocketed the glasses away inside his jacket as he answered her inquiry as to the reason for his stay, "But I'm hoping to indulge in a little pleasure."

His tone shifted only a hair, like he was telling himself an inside joke he knew. What he said was not exactly a lie.

"I'll have the stuffed mushrooms as an appetizer, and the lamb medallion for the main course," Drake began to pass the menu before nodding his head toward the drink, "And, please, bring the bottle."

Passing the menu back to the waitstaff attendant, Drake held onto it for a moment longer than necessary to gather her attention on him once more.

"If you'd like, you can join me for dinner and order yourself anything you'd like off the menu." He let go of the menu.

Shrugging nonchalantly before taking his eyes off her, his hand reached for his drink and swirled it twice before taking a sip and casting a look out through the window. The view across the cityscape almost made it appear like a blanket of stars cast over the surface of the planet. A rare view and one he would most likely see ever again.

"Price is no object, and I'm sure there's at least one thing on the menu you'd love to try yourself."

His attention never returned to her as he savored another drink from his glass. He had made his final decision.

If he wanted to flirt, the brazen attempt here was probably not the best avenue. No, he wanted to observe if he could surprise her out of her previous skepticism. Gifts were useful in currying favor or as a distraction. Maybe a number of individuals have tried to hit on her or flirt with her. He reasoned it was rarer that anyone invited her to simply enjoy herself a good meal.

Whether or not she accepted, it was no skin off his back. Not even his money which made it all the easier to spend it.​

 

[Aurelia Xonavi]

There were always tavern patrons trying to hit on her every now and then and while as annoying as it was, it was in the nature of the job. There was enough surveillance around and security was always a tab away to call upon if she ever required, but simply putting up boundaries did the trick. "Depending on the kind of indulgence you are implying, perhaps you would have better luck on the 9th floor," she commented briefly with a small smirk, referring to the infamous nightclub Halo. " Just the drink or would you be having something on the menu tonight?" She swiftly moved away from the topic. And with a few taps, would log in the order on the holodevice on her wrist.

As he reached out to return the menu-tablet, her nose picked on the sharp metalic tang and noticed that his movements somewhat laboured. Reaching out very briefly through force empathy, she sensed that he was indeed injured. Clearly business wasn't quite what he claimed. It fed her suspiscion, but she wasn't here to judge. However, his next offer was unexpected - it was quite basically an invitation to a date as she'd interpreted, and a very smooth one indeed. "I will certainly consider the offer, Skrol Murgjon." She said, despite already knowing her answer. She was already obliged to entertain elite patrons - his table - and a good meal with that was an offer too good to pass up.

Aurelia passed the bar again and returned to his table with two bottles in hand. "The Kalantha - Naboo Sorgum Whisky Aged. I thought you might fancy sampling something more exotic - and stronger. Of course, the Corellian is still a classic, if you'd rather not have the bulk on tab. " It was a small test, unless they wren't the ones paying for it, no one in the right mind would want something with such a hefty tag on their tab, unless they were filthy rich. Aurelia was simply trying figuring him out and she was still unconvinced he truly harboured the name Skrol Murgjon. It was like a fun puzzle for her to unravel. "Aurelia Xonevi, should at least have my name if we were to be having dinner, Skrol."

After hours of standing and serving tables, it was a relief when she finally took the sat across him. The food wouldn't be ready until in a while. "Are you from Qena, or just here on business?" ​

 

[Damian A. Drake]

FLOOR 297: QENOIR SKY-TAVERN - QENOIRA TOWER - QENA PRIME
Aurelia Xonavi

Nightclubs may have held their own appeal, but Drake's proclivity towards that sort of information was few and far. More likely to be in those establishments due to his work than anything else. A small inkling of a smirk tugged at the edge of his lips as he thought about the idea of him dancing amongst patrons. A silly thought that he would ever do that of his own volition.

Turning his attention away from those thoughts, his gaze left the window as soon as the attendant left for the bar. She would consider the offer. That was not a rejection of his offer, but, even if she had no intention of entertaining his offer, Drake stood up for a moment and began organizing the tableware for her return. It would be far from polite or considerate if he did not. After all, manners make man. Someone of his caliber always knew their manners.

Before sitting down a few seconds before she arrived. His head tilted curiously at the two bottles in her hand. Perhaps a trick of the trade to get him inebriated so he spent more money. She would be sorely disappointed if she thought she could drink him under the table. His brow furrowed in amusement before raising an eyebrow at her offer. The attendant was trying to see if his offer remained true: that price was no object.

Personally, he preferred to stick with what he knew. Experimentation or trying new things needed to be done carefully or else one could end up with all manner of regrets. Besides, the Correllian reminded him of home.

"I said price was no object and it would be a poor reflection of me if I went back on my word now. Have it for yourself, if you like," Drake nonchalantly gestured for her to enjoy herself and sit down across from him, "But I'll stick to the Correllian, if it all the same to you. Although, do tell me how the Kalantha is. I might try a taste for myself."

As she sat down with both bottles, the attendant chose to share her name. There may have been an underlying hint of criticism for not asking her name before, but it may have been nothing more than a passing comment. In his defense, Drake did not want to pry, and he was far from desperate for company in his own opinion. His independence granted him a level of freedom few others held in their entire lives.

"Aurelia. Beautiful name," Drake commented for a moment before speaking further and grinning slightly, "I figured you would share when you were comfortable."

If this was the type of establishment he thought it was and the type of people who came here were from money and rarely ever told the word no, then it would stand to reason names were not given out or perhaps pseudonyms were used to replace their names instead.

Straightening out one of the utensils, Drake's amusement grew although he did not show it. Another question. One that any lesser or inexperienced spy may have fumbled, but Drake had taken the liberty of scanning the identichip and creditchips. Information about the man he was impersonating had come in droves. Planet of birth, where he frequented, all manner of personal information.

Although, he doubted even then he needed that information to fabricate a convincing story.

"Business, but I am from Qena. I travel a lot," Drake spoke the words quickly and fluently. His eyes peered into Aurelia's own as he clasped his hands together, focusing the conversation on her now.

"Now, I have a question too. Why are you here? Call me curious while we wait for our food."

Open ended question but he could always ask for specifics later. If anything, he wondered how exactly she would interpret his question.​

 

[Aurelia Xonavi]

This job wasn't all too thrilling, it was repetitive and she wouldn't say she loved it, nor would she say she hated it. Working on the 297th floor of Qena was as much as luxury could get. On some days she'd encounter tedious patrons, and other times very interesting one. Each small experience had thought her how to better cater to a wide array of people. And this one was quite an enigma, she couldn't read him, but it was all the more fun attempting to unravel.

"As generous as the offer is, I will have to kindly pass - still on shift, you see." She whispered. it was only part of the truth and more of an excuse. Attendants were allowed to have a drink if entertaining patrons, provided it didn't hinder the rest of their work. However, there was no way she was getting intoxicated in the slightest when feeding Euphera was on her schedule later.

If she were to be frank, Aurelia had not a sip of many of the drinks on the menu, but it had been 3 years on the job and she was able to recite all the flavour descriptions as if it were written on the back of her hand. "A complex flavour profile with a right earthy balance - notes of dark fruit, muted cinnamon and oak. It's still worth a try," She raised the glossy bottle of burnished-amber liquid, pouring a short but generous swig into a clean crystal glass for skroll to sample.

Flattery. Wether it was her features, her name, the hue hair or accent, it was nothing she hadn't heard before. Nevertheless, courteously, she would thank him for the compliment. At his next words, although she was tempted to say the same for him, she bit back her tongue. If Skroll Murgjon was only a psuedonym, she too figured he would share his name when comfortable.

As he spoke about travel, she couldn't help but comment. "Ah, such a fortune that is." If only she had means to experience the galaxy herself than to live on the stories told to her by patrons would be a wonder. Then again, it wouldn't be too feasible with how demanding Euphie's health was.


His next question, while straightforward was incredibly vague. "I work here, I serve and attend patrons. And you have just invited me to dinner. Which is why I am here." Of course, that was the obvious answer. From her experience, most were curious to know of her origins, and she would tell him what she told everyone else, most of the truth.

"I am from Xona - a religious cultist planet ruled by... vampires. Incredibly closed off to the galaxy. I was raised as the Goddess of the Stellar, Odemyrii, and pampered and worshiped like the Queen of Naboo. However, the Goddesses were sacrificed and never live to see their 19th birthday. Least to say, I slipped from their claws and eventually escaped on a ship with a small smuggling crew."

While as wild as her past was and it would reasonably seem like a story of make believe, she liked seeing the various reactions. "Which is how I am here, working as a waitress." It took a long while to fully unravel their brainwashing, and even till this day, she would be lying to say she didn't believe she possessed some sort of divinity within her.

"Would you believe me, Skrol?"​

 

[Damian A. Drake]

FLOOR 297: QENOIR SKY-TAVERN - QENOIRA TOWER - QENA PRIME
Aurelia Xonavi

Still on shift. That excuse never applied to Drake. Not for a lot of his life. It would take a lot to inebriate him tonight. That did not mean he could enjoy some of its numbing effects before they begin to wear off. His eyes watched Ms. Xonevi as she poured him a small sample. His hand took ahold of the glass.

"Thank you, but you can take the bottle home with you after your shift," Drake gestured towards the bottle with his glass before spinning the liquid slowly within the clear confines. Then, he took a small swig of the intoxicating drink before setting his glass back down. He let the taste linger in his mouth. Good. Perhaps an excellent present for someone if Drake ever collected enough credits for it.

But the Correllian remind him of home.

As the attendant made her comment about his travels, Drake kept his expression neutral despite his curiosity at the undertones of melancholy in her voice. He noted her comment down for later, but he did not care to say anything about it at the moment. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at how she began to tell him the most obvious answer to his question. One that any other person might mistake Ms. Xonevi as mocking him and his question.

But there was something in her eyes that told him she was making her point. That she had something to say with more substance.

Then, there was a pause as Drake considered her with his gaze. An outlandish story was either a poorly fabricated lie or the honest truth. After all, truth was sometimes stranger than fiction in this galaxy. Still, there was the nearly infinitesimally small chance the story was still a lie, but had been poorly fabricated to be the truth.

But, while he may have a healthy amount of paranoia to survive his job for this long, there were limits. Besides, what would be the harm in believing her story? He was more than sure others had not believed her or written her off. Why not do something outside the norm? What did he have to lose?

Nothing. Other than perhaps seem uncharacteristically gullible. I need to present this carefully.

"Yes."

Drake simply shrugged before relaxing into his seat. He had to bite back a grunt of pain simply from the movement agitating bruises and wounds. Not a sound could escape his lips, not with his cover. Instead, Drake kept his nonchalant attitude as he simply smirked.

"I've seen and heard my fair share of strangeness. It wouldn't be right of me to invalidate your experiences because it sounds like a tall tale."

Reaching for the Corellian bottle, Drake simply poured the glass about three-fourths of the way before setting the bottle down and sealing it.

"From the sounds of it, those vampires are fools. Killing you? It is no worthwhile sacrifice. It is a waste. Living is what matters, not death."​

 

[Aurelia Xonavi]

Aurelia knew she had no use for alcohol especially with Euphie under care - she couldn't remember if she ever had a good drink. It also wasn't the first time she was offered gifts similar on the job. Nevertheless, the conversation continued. There was no skepticism he showed, some would merely laugh off as if she told a sarcastic joke - which wasn't a bother. However, there was the subtle strain in his movements, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. While she was tempted to reach out with her empatheitc force abilities like she did earlier, however decided not to as it was not her business to intrude.

He refilled his glass again; the amount consumed would usually have the usual patron inebrated fairly quickly, yet the man remained composed - at least for now. "I'm guessing its a story you'd need the booze to believe." It was merely a light joke, glancing down at the cup in his hand. "They are cunning beings with a love of control. I was entirely convinced by the religion on the afterlife and entirely willing to be sacrificed for Xona - to ascend." She admitted. If her circumstances hadn't changed then, she wouldn't have Euphie. Aurelia wouldn't change it for the world.

"Well, now I'm curious, what is the strangest thing you've witnessed around the galaxy?" She asked, directing the topic back onto him. "The force sensitives, have you encountered many?" ​