last_kallig (
last_kallig) wrote2020-08-08 08:53 am
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AU: Bar Crawl
After the events at the Foundry, Ibani felt that both she and Ben desperately needed some R+R. There was much research and questioning of her various contacts, smugglers, pirates, spies, and other such folk for good places to drink and eat on Nar Shaddaa.
She has a list! Although her first plan is to ask Ben where HIS favorite places on Nar Shaddaa were and see if any of them exist in her when, because you never know.
In the interests of blending in, Ibani has gone for the smuggler/pirate look in brown and bright emerald synthleather with a vibroblade strapped on one hip. (She has her lightsabers too, of course, but those are more hidden.)
She has a list! Although her first plan is to ask Ben where HIS favorite places on Nar Shaddaa were and see if any of them exist in her when, because you never know.
In the interests of blending in, Ibani has gone for the smuggler/pirate look in brown and bright emerald synthleather with a vibroblade strapped on one hip. (She has her lightsabers too, of course, but those are more hidden.)
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And that's the only explanation he can give.
"But - I shall try and tell you instead of leaving you guessing. And you can ask, if you need to know."
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She's clearly curious, but she doesn't ask. Won't ask, because what you don't know can't be taken from you by force, or by Force powers.
"Thank you," she says sincerely. "I'm not used to asking, but I will try and remember to, if I am confused."
She offers Ben a bite of the bird, like he did to her earlier. Would be a shame to let it go to waste, after all.
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"Aren't we supposed to be heartless smugglers?" he asks
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She is very, very, red right now, but not from embarrassment. It takes her two tries to actually get her voice to work. "You might qualify for heartless," she quips, chuckling breathlessly. "Inflicting such sweet torment on me."
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"My apologies," he says. "Maybe something else to drink?"
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"I did have somewhere else in mind to go in this sector,if you'd like. They're supposed to have excellent tea and sweets as well as alcohol."
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"I could just do with something sweet," he says. "Lead the way."
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They wind their way down and around the sector, finally stopping at a place with no sign of any kind. "Not sure if it's a secret or the owner just doesn't want to pay for a sign," Ibani whispers in his ear.
It is positively serene inside, at least by Nar Shaddaa standards. They're quickly seated and Ibani orders the house blend of tea and tiny tea cakes.
The server brings the tea first. Ibani habitually checks the tea for surprises, tilts her head in curiosity, then takes a sip.
When the server brings the cakes, Ibani looks at them and says, tone desert dry, "If you were going to try and drug me surreptitiously, you should at least have chosen something that wouldn't clash with the tea."
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The server herself is backing away, hands raised at the wrist, holding them at waist level. "Drugged?" she asks, shocked.
It's a good act, but it's a lie. Ben can already see the two people at the counter - a Weequay who looks like a customer and a human behind the counter - making eye contact with each other.
"Come now," he says to Ibani, in the soothing tone of someone used to talking to an unstable partner, "don't be rude to the nice lady."
He is also acting, he's just better at it than the lady in question.
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She trusts Ben with more than her life, so it's easy to go along with whatever he has planned.
"Oh, fine," Ibani huffs, sliding into the role of unstable partner. "You probably just let it steep too long or something," she says to the server.
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"Why don't you just try some of the sweets," he says, "while she fetches us some fresh tea?"
He turns the smile on the server. "I'm so sorry, my wife is really particular about tea."
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The sweets are unaltered, and quite good actually! Ibani tries one.
"Oh, I understand completely," the server replies. Her relief palpable in the Force that she hasn't been caught! "Let me just bring you a fresh pot."
Eyes are off them for a little while. "The person who recommended this place to me mentioned that it had changed hands since the last time they were here, they must still be getting settled in."
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"Could be slavers, but tourists wouldn't pop into a place this out of the way and unsignposted. Not enough for a sustainable trade. Could just be a standard way of getting rid of uninvited guests at a members only club."
"But if this place was recommended to you, someone knew you were coming."
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"Don't think this was aimed at me specifically." Ibani grins teasingly. "The person who gave this recommendation has never seen this lovely face." They could be drugging any human female who comes in, but that could be an expensive proposition.
"Not enough Azide in the tea pot to put two adults fully out either," she adds. "Amateur maybe, or trying to look like one."
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"But I don't know why you have to always make such a scene."
This last sentence is probably because their fresh pot of tes is on its way, being brought by the human chef - male, older than the server from before, and a dangerous smile on his face. But still a smile.
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The chef sets the tea down. "I'm so sorry about the tea earlier," the chef begins with his dangerous smile. "I hope this one will be more to your liking."
Ibani pokes the tea with the Force and nods to the chef. "It had better," she grumbles.
Strictly speaking, Ibani isn't supposed to know the hand signs that the Jedi use to communicate secretly. She's just hoping the Order is hidebound enough that they haven't changed the signs much in thousands of years.
What she signs is 'death for you, not me'. Ibani sips the tea while the chef hovers. Drains the entire cup, in fact. It's good tea! Also, laced with enough toxins to kill at least four normal humans.
The dangerous smile on the chef's face doesn't fade but there is a flicker of uncertainty in the Force from him. It should have worked by now.
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The chef nods, his uncertainty growing. "I'd like to know what you think of it," he says, pushing the cup towards Ben.
Ben shakes his head, reaching for another cake. "I'm really more of a sweet person myself. Why don't you join us?"
The weequay is now straight up watching this. She probably doesn't even know she's doing it, but she's also resting her hand on the blaster at her hip.
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Ibani pushes a chair behind the chef with one foot. "You might as well sit down or you'll never get any peace, he's stubborn when he's made up his mind on something."
She leans back in her chair and smirks. "How he caught me, as a matter of fact. Don't think you're quite old enough to hear that story though." .
Hopefully, there are enough distractions that no one will notice what she's REALLY doing as she pours herself another cup of tea. The tea in the pot and the other cup will be poison free shortly, albeit rather hotter than they should be thanks to various chemical reactions going on.
Ibani is terribly aware of everything in the Bar, especially the Weequay with her hand on her blaster. It would not be in the best interest of her health to draw that blaster, not when Ibani has people to protect.
The chef sits, his body language stiff and uncomfortable. "You weren't this friendly last time you were here," he says at last, his gaze challenging.
Ibani gives the chef a WTF expression. She's never been here before in her entire life!
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"What happened last time we were here?" he asks, with the slightest nudge in the Force - no hand waves, just a gentle push towards telling them the truth.
The chef swallows nervously. "You threatened us. Said if we didn't pay you regularly you'd come back and destroy the place. We're already paying the Hutts, we can't afford to pay you too."
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The Weequay relaxes, and the chef and the waitress do too, if slightly less than the armed Weequay.
"Can't have people leeching off our reputation, that's how you make a living in this business."
Which is both true and likely a more believable reason for potential interference than the goodness of their hearts.
"You have any information about our doppelgangers?"
"No names," the chef replies. "But I overheard you," he says looking at Ben, "er, sorry, HIM, say something about a safehouse near the palace of Jarlo the Hutt."
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"And has he been bothering all the businesses in the area?"
"I don't know," the chef says quickly. "I think... maybe? Why would they single us out?"
A few reasons, Ben reflects, but none that he'd keep from them. He helps himself to one last cake, and looks back to Ibani.
"Have you had enough tea, my dear?"
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"Yes, I believe I have, dear," Ibani replies, smiling fondly at him.
"I'd incinerate anything that was in contact with the tea, if I were you," she tells the chef as she stands up. "That particular blend can linger in surfaces and give you nasty surprises down the line."
"How aren't you...?" He begins.
"Trade secret," Ibani replies, winking.
She takes Ben's hand again and leads them out the door.
"The racket can wait, if you'd rather," Ibani replies. "I could tackle them by myself another day. Although it sounds like it IS on the way to where I was headed next in any case."
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"Crude perhaps, but effective in their way," Ibani replies. "Although.." She pauses for a moment, reaching out to the Kyber crystals in her lightsabers. "One of my lightsabers would let you use her for a time, if it comes to that."
She grins. "Possibly my feelings for you are rubbing off on them."
"Interesting choice you made for my cover," she remarks, tone slightly teasing. Yes, she noticed that Ben chose 'wife' as opposed to anything else as a cover relationship.
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"Let's hope it won't come to that," he says, before shooting her a sly grin, and lifting his hand, of which Ibani has yet to let go.
"Thought it might be more believable."
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