"I told you that you wouldn't believe me." She leaned back in the booth, the soft squeak of leather punctuating the clink of ice in her glass as she took another sip. He stared at her, his mouth open as his brain worked through the idea. A glimmer of recognition seemed to glimmer in his eye, then blotted out by a furrowed brow. "That is either the dumbest or smartest thing I have ever heard. How do you get there?" "Well, ever since way back when he stepped down from Consul, no one has seen the two together." She struggled to get upright in her seat again, leaning forward, a hush falling over her voice in the busy cantina. "And then, there's all that mysticism, rituals of untold power, all of that..." "All of that weird Krath stuff...it just weirds me out." The Zabrak shivered off the thought, raising his glass to drown the idea as she watched him swallow, her lips pursed at the mention of the order. He set the glass down, peering over the table at the Umbaran. "And then, there's the whole Tiamat thing." She nodded, motioning at the bartending droid to refill the Dakhani's cup. "And if you think about it, it would make sense for him to make a run at the throne, anyway. I mean, he had done so much already..." He watched the droid pour the chilled Kawakian rum into his glass, the strong liquid seeming almost thick with how cold they served it here. "I haven't had it this cold before, but it is becoming my favorite." He smiled, raising the glass. "Thank you." She smiled as she raised her own glass, a narrow flute that looked to be filled with far more potent than the sweetened caf she had them make for her. "Any time, Bjorn. we need to stick together, after all." "Of course, Miss Bastiayn." She watched as he sipped and the thought swam across his mind, then out of his mouth. "But what of Ashia?" "She was his Proconsul, you'll remember." She saw the confusion on his face. "Well, maybe you wouldn't. But she was proconsul before he..." She leant in, bringing a more conspiratorial tone to her words. "...Became Grand Master." She watched his face twitch as the words wormed their way from his ears to his mind, an echo coursing through his mouth. "Muz is really Trev. It's insane, but..." He wobbled a little, then finished the rest of his drink in one gulp. "Care for another?" She nodded at his glass, watching him shake his head. She let a smile creep halfway up her face as she moved as if she was trying to stand. The journeyman moved as quickly as he could muster, the rum dimming his balance as he tried to be useful for the Ragnosian. "Thank you again." He smiled, extending a hand to help her up. She politely refused, getting to her feet slowly, then watching as he presumed to get close enough that she could smell his supper. Batting away the annoyance, she nodded at him. "Consul's meeting tomorrow." "Yeah, I should get some rest in." Bjorn started to bow, then thought better of it. "You?" "I still have most of a drink to finish." She laughed, watching him awkwardly nod and turn away, half mumbled goodbyes falling from a slurring mouth before he vanished into the crowd. She slipped back into her booth, casually picking up her glass and taking a long drink of the caf. They really did make it pretty well here, and the bartenders were discrete as anywhere she had seen. She let out a sigh as she saw the Zabrak make his way past the security stand. "Really?" The voice was deep, almost gravelly. "They apparently aren't teaching the kids critical thinking at the academy these days." She spoke, her ears triangulating the sound to right behind her. Of course he had heard the whole thing. She was amazed that the Aedile hadn't broken into laughter. "Apparently not." There was a half chuckle. Syntari brought out the prize, the code cylinders she had lifted from the Dakhani's belt. "Seems that too many in Sadow can't hold their liquor these days."