Kaydia took a seat in the back of the speeder, just as she had arrived here. She fixed her make up while back there, occupying her hands to distract her from intrusive thoughts. Once they were about half to the restaurant, she turned on her communicator.
"It's done. Kiash, Klynt, their bodyguards, all dead." She wasn't exactly trying to hide what she was doing from Quinn, but she wasn't doing it openly either. He was there, it's not like any of this was news to him.
"Alright, the credits will be deposited into your account within the hour. How did it go?" The voice was purposely distorted, but Kaydia knew who it was.
"Not great, but they are all dead. Did you know Kiash had access to Zerrid An's security holograms?"
"I had my suspicions."
"And you didn't warn me?" Kaydia's voice rose, becoming a whispered shout.
"Hey, you want to hit bigger targets, you need to prove you can handle yourself even when the shit hits the intake valve. Which you have, so I'll have another job for you tomorrow."
"Another job? This is quick, even for me." Kaydia countered
"And it will be worth it. You're hitting a Vigo. Besides, you'll need to do all the legwork on this one. I can't know anything until it happens."
"Fine, send me the details for the meeting," Kaydia said before cutting off the communication. It seemed she and Quinn had arrived at their reservation.
The restaurant was a small sort of place, lacking the amenities that would have possibly earned it a 5-star rating but still possessing a quiet charm. The lighting was subdued as was the music, and the serving droids were grey and dark blue with a matte finish. The proprietor was a stocky Snivian, and he met them at the door. "Quinn, my boy!" he grunted, offering a blunt-fingered hand. "Good to see you. I've been so glad you were coming that a few minutes made it seem like you were an hour late."
Quinn, who had shed his disguise as he'd driven, shook the Snivian's hand. "Just a few minutes, though. Sorry to keep you waiting, Malri. Oh, where are my manners? Let me introduce my associate, Shadi."
Malri took hire hand and bowed his head over it. For on a distance, he could have been kissing it, but the wet snuffling sound he made left no doubt that he was smelling her. "A pleasure. A genuine pleasure. Please, follow me."
He led them to a small corner table, positioned so that two occupants could keep their backs to the wall discretely. Quinn drew a chair for her, then joined her at the table. "Here you are," Malri said, handing each of them a plasmaprint menu. "Joaca will be your waiter." He glanced at Kaydia. "Would you like to start with some wine? We have an..."
"I don't really have a palate for the stuff, Malri," Quinn commented.
Despite being barely a meter tall, Malri managed to look down his snout at the mercenary. "That's why I didn't ask you," he said, pointedly. "I asked your lovely associate." He looked back at Kaydia. "Ignore him. He is a barbarian, and you are clearly slumming by being in his company. May I recommend the Guerre Stellari '77? It is a bold rose wine, comparing favorably to the best of the Fortresse Cachee roses bottled by the famous Bright Black Swamp vintners of Riben II."
"That sounds lovely, I think I will take a glass," she said in approval, meeting his gaze. Truthfully she wanted something harder, but that was Kaydia, and she wasn't Kaydia right now. A high-class call girl doesn't down hard liquor on a date with a client, she sips her wine properly. It was almost funny. When she was a padawan she loathed all the rules the Jedi Order and had lain down for her to follow, and yet even as far removed as she was from the Order now, she still had just as many rules to follow. Sometimes more, as she balanced disguises and covers and instructions from her bosses.
She caught Quinn's eyes over their menus. Yesterday she was quite certain she determined his eyes to be green, in the dim lighting of her Velvet spire, however, glancing over now, she swore they were blue. What a pity. She was going to have to spend the entire meal gazing into them again, just to be sure. The thought drew a soft giggle from her lips, which was a welcome diversion from twitching fingers craving chemical release. She took his hand, to still her fingers. Shadi was an affection woman after all, so it was in character. It was nice when her wants and the needs of her persona overlapped.
Joaca approached the table with her wine and Quinn's drink. "Are you ready to order?"
"How is the Bivoli Tempari?" She asked, cognizant of how strange it was to ask a droid's opinion of the food.
"Highly recommended," The droid reported, as it was programmed to, no doubt. Never the less Shadi nodded her head.
"I'll have that then, and a salad."
"And you, sir?" the droid asked.
"The maarl quick-fried noodles," he decided, "with lemish sauce. Medium heat. With a side of steamed toklroot."
"Very good, sir," the droid answered, turning and wheeling away. Quinn watched it leave, then turned his attention back to the woman at his side. He regarded her in silence for a moment, then smiled.
