It took a reasonable trip to reach the lounge that the Kassa rep had recommended to Darion. The driver was far more agreeable than the last. To Darion's surprise the cabby was a Human, a man with a simple name of peculiar spelling, Grant Hikoc who was a native of Vancouver on Earth.<br/><br/>The ride, which was far less awkward took Darion across the Illium skyline, giving him a good look at the many giant scale billboards, the glass spires like crystals reaching into the sky all around. Illium was full of advertising, it was inescapable. There always seemed to be some product or company being pitched at every turn, and every single one had a ribbon on the bottom that ran stock prices. It was a planet of commerce that straddled the line. It was followed council customs, but only on occasion. What was illegal in council space was more legal here, always in the interest of commerce.<br/><br/>Cobalt, or Cobalt Blue as it was called, was high up. Several times during the ride they had to climb. Grant told Darion that Cobalt was held in similar regard as the hotel Azure in terms of quality. Though while azure catered to the vacationer looking for a weekend of naughty indulgences, Cobalt was for the the prominent socialite looking to relax in any way they wanted. Hallex, exquisite drink, dancers, whatever you and your party wanted. It could cost a single person upwards of 10,000 credits just to step in the door. It was an atmosphere, a mutual body and mind of those that frequented it.<br/><br/>The club, was at the summit of the tower it sat upon, and perhaps surprisingly, did not have a line outside of it. The entrance was flanked by columns with undulating waves of blue projected onto them - waves which would occasionally come together in a brief moment and spell Cobalt. Inside the entry arch was a Turian standing patiently by, beyond him a door veiled in darkness, the subtle tones of blue that lit the entry angled as to not cast any light on the door. The Turian greeted Darion courteously and asked him for his name, and then asked for a credit chit. The Turian, upon taking the Darion's chit opened a very intricately styled aquamarine omni-tool and ran the chit. Upon Darion mentioning the Kassa Fabrications rep, the Turian's mandibles flexed in a smile.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">A customer of Kassa Fabrications, of course. Our corporate partners receive a 25% discount on entry. It will be 6 and one half Thousand credits. </span><br/><br/>As the money went through holographic projectors illuminated the door into the lounge in an artistic display. The Turian stepped aside.<span style="color: blue">Welcome to Cobalt, Mr. Syler.</span><br/><br/>Cobalt got its surname, Blue, because of the light that bathed it. Nuanced and subtle, the color lulled the mind into an ease and calm. The lounge was tiered in semi-circles and landings, all arranged a-symmetrically. There were corners tucked away from the main hall, small and intimate in addition to the ample luxuriously decadent seating in the open. An ambient music played, subtle and relaxing, but with a beat that was non the less exciting - as if it would lull you into a dance.<br/><br/>Unlike a strip club or other such affair, there was no aggressive rhythm in Cobalt. No flashing lights daring to draw your attention to something, no advertisements. The lounge was a retreat from the endless bombardment of things attempting to consume one's attention. Conversations were carried out with ease, laughing was not an uncommon sound.<br/><br/>Many of the seats were occupied, and by no identifiable sort of person, either. Turian, Human, Asari, Krogan, all were present, some dressed in expensive elegance, others barely dressed at all - which made it difficult to tell who it was that was employed by Cobalt, and who was simply a customer. The attendants were as relaxed and engaged in the conversations as the people they were attending. A bar rimmed the lowest tier, the wall behind which was lined with some of the rarest and most expensive alcohol in the galaxy.<br/><br/>As Darion surveyed the scene, he spotted a familiar face. Ashana sat in a ring of seats with a group of 5 others, conversing and laughing. She was sitting on a Turian lap, drink in hand. On the table in the cente rof the ring of lounge sofas were several Hallex inhalers. Ashana didn't notice Darion as he entered.<br/><br/>From Darion's right a sultry woman's voice asked,<span style="color: blue">What's your poison, Sailor?</span>A very attractive Asari leaned against a pillar, watching him, a drink in her hand. She had a health bust and trim waist - though there was little to indicate whether or not she worked there or was simply another patron. She wore a simple white shirt which turned to shades of blue beneath the light, and an angled skirt which was as far down as her knee on its left, but rose to just below her hips on the right. She sipped from the glass as she watched Darion in appraisal.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Taseer offered no response to Kala. It was a difficult position for Taseer to grasp - one which seemed more a grudge than anything else. But then, the Asari was nearly 200 years old and wasting time being upset about something was a lifestyle she'd sworn off of. A Maiden wasn't prone to attachment, and Taseer was no exception.<br/><br/><span style="color: navy">"Well, whenever we get this deal done,"</span>Taseer said, shimmying back down into the maintenance corridor off the gangway,<span style="color: navy">"I'm hitting up a club with a few of the new crew. 'Got a payday tradition or two to uphold, get <i>acquainted</i> with the new blood."</span><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Firas was startled by the Asari's near collision, putting him on the back step. It wasn't at all unpleasant for a woman like that to run into you, but never the less. Firas gave his credit chit a momentary pat to make sure it was still there and mumbled for her to watch where she was going.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">Look I got the model 3. Its better than the 2. </span><br/><br/><span style="color: darkorange">No. Its not.</span>Sorv answered shortly.<span style="color: darkorange">Don't try to pawn it off on me, either. I'm looking for a 2. You've got it or you don't. I've got the credits, alright.</span><br/><br/>Sorv glanced at an Asari who approached, looking over the items. The Batarian did as well, giving her a curt sideways nod and blink.<span style="color: darkgreen">How much credits? The ZX 2 is a very rare item, sought after.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: darkorange">As long as its not an insane price.</span>Sorv countered. The dialogue was not unfamiliar to him. It was common among traders, even worse on Omega. you'd ask for something, they'd say they've got the next best thing when in reality that have exactly what you want, but would rather try to pawn off something inferior for the same price first.<br/><br/>the Batarian gave Sorv a hard look, then turned to the Asari for a moment to check in with her.<span style="color: darkgreen">What're you lookin' for?</span><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Doctor Beruut attended to the Turian before him, inspecting the healing process that he was undergoing with a critical eye. He was healing, but progress was slow. The Turian's age was making itself apparent.<br/><br/>Falkris watched Milenya through the window as she approached, his features betraying nothing of the assessments he was making. His eyes never left the Asari, even as she entered and the Salarian doctor offered her a greeting.  The Turian was humorless, ever rigid as he waited to hear what it was the Asari had come to say. He suspected the content of the conversation, but had learned long ago to abandon pretense of knowledge. Assumptions were a fools evidence.<br/><br/>The Turian's mandibles flared in what would be a frown, his old piercing eyes boring into Milenya.<span style="color: red">No you didn't. You came here to see what you could glean from me in regards to the extent and depth of that information.</span>He stared into her eyes unblinking.<span style="color: red">You have after all seen the security, the authorization required - You wonder, if we knew about the husks, and if that information was stored on this ship, than what else it is that is stored on this ship in regards to what you found in that site.</span><br/><br/>Beruut who had stepped away to get medical implements to continue his work paused, looking nervously on at Falkris and Milenya. He suspected it would be foolish to interrupt.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">Is that correct?</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>