A week later.
He wasn't sure what had provoked him into a splurge of going to the bar each night, but he liked the way it cleared his mind, helped him sleep. The new bar was still not popular like the others, and he liked it that way. He didn't want old military ambassadors, politicians or advisors to see him this way. There was a sense of dignity that had to be kept, yet it was becoming more difficult with time. Vuren hadn't contacted him – the Major probably didn't gain much from his company. His apartment was cold, empty, and lonely.
He could only see comfort in a busy, loud setting, and at the bottom of his glass. He tried another bar on this particular evening – the Silver Coast Casino – which was a more refined setting, but by midnight only the seedy, the desperate and the lost were there. The drinks were not as good as that other human bar – the Moat-Zart? He couldn't remember the strange sounding human name. He tried his hand occasionally at gambling, but stopped himself after he'd lost over a thousand credits. He sat at the bar, quite sober at the point, chatting to the asari bartender, who was quite enjoying the undivided attention lavished on her.
"General Marik, yes I do remember that name," she smiled. "Your reputation precedes you." Absedeus wanted to grown into the shiny surface of the bar.
"Well, what's left of it anyway," he snapped.
The bartender, somewhat taken aback, quickly moved on to another customer. He drank himself into another stupor, until he was sure he'd forgotten the memories. For some reason, he'd been thinking of the Relay 314 Incident as of lately. He wasn't sure what provoked it, seeing as he'd blocked his mind from it for a long time. There was so use in thinking about the past – the past, which had been and gone. He hadn't been as sure however, as he felt the usual sober feelings come back to him as he wandered down the strip. He ended up walking for an hour. He wandered until found himself at the Moat-Zart. It was packed full, with live music playing. He tried to tell himself to leave it and go home. Absedeus felt himself moving forward anyway, into the crowded, noisy bar. People were drinking and swaying to the live music - some unbearable asari group. He seated himself at the bar, having pushed through the crwod of salarians, asari and turians roughly. He heard a few mumbles about how rude he was. There was no one at the bar. He lifted a hand up and shouted towards the nearest human he could see.
"Service!" he shouted, smacking his talon on the surface of the bar.
He had to raise his voice above the dreadful, whiny music. Absedeus did it once more before a human bartender walked over towards him. It was that blue-eyed waitress, her forehead knitted. Her rather bushy fringe was pinned back, revealing more of her face.
"Another Reynor?" she said, already getting out a glass.
She hadn't snapped at him this time, but her tone wasn't friendly either. He grunted at her, merely nodding. He pretended to be glaring at the asari band, but in fact he was taking furtive glances towards her. He wasn't as drunk as he'd been, thanks to the hour-long walk from the Silver Coast Casino. A terrible thought came to his mind. She looked one of those humans he'd interrogated during the Relay 314 Incident, one of very few. Her name didn't come to him, he'd only interrogated one female. He couldn't see her very well in the dark bar, which had been dimmed for the band. She slammed his glass down in front of him and tapped the automated till.
"Tab?" she said, not even looking at him.
"What is your name?" he asked her, looking at her straight in the eye. She froze for a moment, before collecting herself.
"Tab or not?" she snapped. At this point in time he was glad he was slightly sober.
"Tab," he replied.
She completed the procedure without saying anything else to him. Her clear hostility was unusual – he'd seen her be rude to her boss, the other customers, but it had been occasional. What could warrant such unsolicited hostility? He took a sip and then baulked at his thinking. She was a human. Her hostility had been born from fear, and rightly so.
Humans had plenty to fear from turians.
