Affinity: a natural liking for and understanding of someone or something.
Jane wasn't particularly surprised when the turian, who she now knew to be one of the most infamous Spectres alive, didn't even respond.
She'd known he was lying. She'd served enough turians to have long associated the vibrations she could feel through the counter as being something akin to satisfaction. But pleasure?
She felt a little dirty.
She recognised the newcomer and she attempted to focus on him because thinking about the possible consequences of her disrespect towards Saren Arterius made her feel queasy.
The newcomer came irregularly but generally ordered at least three cups of kava. He'd tried to have some delivered to his ship in bulk but Nilia had drew the line. She'd said if he wanted some more, he could come here like everyone else and buy it.
He seemed in appearance to be Saren's opposite. For one, he had elaborate white markings in an ominous pattern to Saren's bare face. He was red where he was silver, he had a long, symmetrical fringe to Saren's long, asymmetrical one. He was shorter by a considerable margin (and who wasn't?) and bulky to Saren's almost unnatural leanness. Judging by his opening salvo, possibly in personality too.
She already liked him based on that opening comment.
"How would you like your kava?" She asked.
"Extra rovale nuts and a pinch more dakina in the tisane," he said. He took a seat next to Saren, giving the scowling Spectre a smirk. "I'm not really into sweetening my kava."
Saren turned towards him, a mean coldness quickly crossing on his face.
"Nihlus, do not give me reasons to make your life difficult," he murmured.
Jane gave Nihlus a sympathetic wince, mouthing an ouch at him. He gave her a very well executed eye-roll and shrugged.
Nihlus sipped his kava and hummed quietly to himself. Saren shot him another one of his disparaging glares, and Jane smiled. It was rather nice to have a fellow target.
"Nilia isn't here, right?" Nihlus asked after she'd made Saren another cup of kava after feeling his stare on her far too many times.
She could already feel like this was going somewhere silly but she'd humour him. He'd probably buy more kava that way. Her studies at Huerta Memorial didn't pay for themselves, no matter how much the Alliance had paid her upon her retirement following Akuze and how generously Nilia paid her.
"No, she's not. She's usually at C-Sec at these hours and likely arguing with Executor Pallin about changing, she calls it improving, patrol patterns on the Presidium. She's getting tired of C-Sec treating the Lounge like a guesthouse during their shifts," she explained.
He nodded in acknowledgement and gazed for a second at Saren. He still had a face of stone and the personality to match with all the attention he gave back. There were likely subvocalisations she couldn't hear that were giving the context to their eye contact.
Lovely.
Nihlus turned back to her with a slight smile.
"I'm not surprised. Your kava is legendary amongst the turian population on the Citadel. I imagine you're aware that the human C-Sec officers call you 'The Firecracker' after the way you turned down Officer Harkin's advances."
He'd included air quotes when naming the title. The image was only comical and she couldn't help laughing. His mandibles twitched slightly, and he outright laughed when Saren began tapping the counter with his talons. It was a transparent attempt to defuse the humour at the bar. It was still rather menacing, regardless, with how sharp they were. In fact, she was pretty sure he had been wearing gloves. Where did they go?
"I'm well aware, and I'd like to think that Harkin and I now have a purely business focussed relationship. One where I take his money, of course, and he gets his sissy drinks in exchange. After all, what 'real man' drinks appletinis?" She joked.
It only felt right to respond with air quotes. He laughed before leaning forward solicitously and mocking a secretive look at Saren.
Despite his attempt at tempering the situation, she and Nihlus had come this far so why stop now?
"I'm not sure what an appletini is, but I know that an apple is a human fruit," Nihlus said incredibly seriously as if he'd just revealed a grand revelation to her. He stroked a mandible in consideration, smiling when she laughed at his flat statement.
"You definitely can't have fruit flavoured liquor and call yourself a man. You drink your liquor straight or you don't drink at all," he explained with a suave nod.
"Yes, Nihlus. A bonafide alcoholic like yourself would know all about that," Saren snapped.
Nihlus acted like he hadn't heard him.
"In fact..."
"Hmm?"
He placed his credit chit back on the counter.
"Have you got a bottle of Spirit of Invictus?" He asked. "I'd like a double shot."
She rifled through the storage units, using her omnitool to decipher the labelling on the turian bottles, and found the bottle he'd asked for. Her omnitoool helpfully informed her that the drink was of a type that was analogous to Bourbon whisky.
"Neat, I imagine? Room temperature or slightly chilled? Ice? Do you want it accompanied with sprigs of fresh levant? Do you want it to be spiced and if so, what spice?" She asked, quickly going through the questions that Nilia had drilled into her when serving turian spirits. Levant was a type of herb that turians used as a palate cleanser after eating or drinking anything with a strong scent. She'd nibbled on some once and found it oddly pleasant. Taste-wise, It was like chewing on a bland cracker.
"This is why I come here, Saren. Great service. Great liquor. Great looking girls," he said, giving her a discreet wink. Saren made an audible sound of disgust and continued to sip his kava as if it were the only thing that made sense in the immediate vicinity. "In response to your questions, yes, slightly chilled, yes, yes, and I'd like maranti spice."
She followed his instructions and set his shot glass, filled with a shimmering green liquid, on the counter. Like all turian shot glasses, it had a curved rim, not unlike a funnel, to accommodate their mouths.
He drank it all in one, ignoring her expression of horror, and sighed.
"Now that was good," he said.
Saren was still tapping his talons in a discordant rhythm against the counter-top. His talons were starting to mark the metal of the counter. Were his talons blades in disguise? Jane, still worried about how she'd treated him earlier, did her best to continue to ignore it. Hopefully, Nilia would understand her cowardice when she saw the counter when they closed later.
"No-one seems to know your name. Would you be up to putting a turian out of their misery?" Nihlus asked.
He was everything a turian was not. Why would Saren spend his time with Nihlus? It made no sense.
"Well, I'm sure your friend would put me out of my misery if I were to do such a thing," she countered, attempting to make the conversation drop.
"She probably can't remember it," Saren muttered.
Nihlus chuckled and that was enough of an incentive to give her name.
"The name's Jane. Jane Shepard," she said.
They both froze and looked at her intensely. Surprisingly, Saren was the one who responded after fixing her with his severe glare.
"Any relation to Commander Shepard?... Human."
Again, Saren spat the word, 'human', like a curse. She'd have laughed if she didn't feel like her future health didn't depend on this answer.
"Yes, he's my brother. Adopted," she said after a brief pause to ensure she didn't sound amused.
Nihlus likely knew this was going somewhere bad very quickly as he practically jumped out of his seat and threw a small credit chit on the counter. Jane got the feeling that she'd have to wait a long time to return the uncharged portion of the chit to him.
"Thank you for the kava and the liquor. It was nice to meet you, Jane. Saren, let's go to C-Sec, I received a message about new requisitions."
Nihlus gave her a final smile before leaving. Saren didn't even acknowledge her existence.
They left with little fanfare, though the turians at the sims quieted upon their approach. She knew Saren was a Spectre, who didn't? It was likely Nihlus was one too.
This felt like the start of something terrible.