A Matriarchal Malady

"Ah ha ha!" A wrinkled claw of a hand reached for the dice at the gambling tables of the Cumulus Casino. "And that meanss jI wjin!?"

A dignified looking, but very elderly, Cizerack male leaned down, whispering into the female's ear. Her face, half hidden behind a black lace veil, transformed into a scowl, wrinkles transformed into deep grooves by the hands of time.

"Bah! jI don't ljike thjiss game afterr all." Sirraaithi Meorrrei left her chips on the table and activated her repulsor chair, bumping into her long suffering manservant as she backed up and then made her way across the casino.

Rey'narrr bowed deeply at the dice table, tipped the employee running it, and gathered up his mistress's chips. He was thirty-five years her junior but still pushing eighty-five years old, and he was not as quick as he used to be. Thankfully the repulsor chair was slow enough that he was able to catch up to Sirraaithi.

"Thjiss jiss herr bussjinesss, jissn't jit?!" She was trying to speak quietly to Rey'narr, but with her hearing loss Sirraaithi couldn't regulate her volume like she used to. "Get Sasseeri jimmedjiateljy!"

"Of courrsse Rrou'fai," he murmured, putting his hand on her chair and transferring control back to him. Rey'narr directed Sirra toward one of the restaurants, walking slowly and leaning on the repulsor chair as they progressed. "We wjill fjind herr ssoon, but perrhapss... ssomethjing to eat fjirrsst?"

Cline had been walking the floor of the casino, for the day. One of the usual security personnel had called in with a family emergency and he'd volunteered since he didn't have anything pressing to finish for Mr. Prent for the day. He was surprised to say it had actually stayed fairly quiet all day. One drunk Duros and a pair of bickering Gungans were the worst of it, and they'd all gone without any real hassle. He rounded a corner and passed what seemed to be an elderly Cizerack couple before catching a name at the tail end of a conversation.

"Get Sasseeri jimmedjiateljy!"

Well. That's certainly a demand to make. He fell into step a few paces behind them. He'd listen in to their conversation as much as he could, not that it would be hard the way the female Cizerak announced things, and waited to get more information before he'd take the next step.

"jYess, jyess, food jiss good. jI ssupposse therrre'ss no Cizeri cujissjine herre," retorted Sirraaithi. "A raasha'kou half-brreed wouldn't botherr, of courrrsse."

Rey'narr hmmed something agreeable, and gently directed her hoverchair toward a bustling alcove with a bright sign that read CIRRUS.

Sirra snorted when they got close enough she could read it. "Alwajyss wjith the cloud namess. Unorrrjigjinal!"

Cline watched the elderly Cizerak direct herself toward Cirrus, the local eatery and held himself firm against the snide remark of Ms. Sasseeri's heritage. There was no need to jump the gun - especially still being uncertain of who this woman and her companion were. He let them enter first before heading for the employee entrance in the rear.

Let them get comfortable and relaxed before his next move, people were always more inclined to speak freely when they had food, drink and no worries. Cline walked through the kitchen, only a stray Sous chef glancing up at him before lowering their head back to their work. The staff may not know the orange haired youth by name, but enough recognized him and knew who he worked for to keep their mouths shut. Cline just kept watch from the kitchen window on the couple, even as he stripped off his suit jacket and pressed one of the waiters who looked like a physical match for him to give him his jacket.

Sirra fussed with her veil as Rey'narr got her chair settled in at the table they were shown to. "No vjiew," she groused, finally getting the black lace settled just right on her white curls.

"We arrre bjy the wjindowss," murmured her manservant.

"jI want to ssee the cassjino floorr!"

"Tea pleasse," Rey'narr asked their server, who slipped away before Sirra's eyes could focus on her. Sirraaithi's vision was blurred by cataracts, but she wasn't blind and her sharp tongue had eviscerated many a restaurant worker in her long lifetime.

"Sshe rran awajy fassst." Sirra narrowed her eyes, turning away from the beautiful picture windows and toward the restaurant. "jYou called ahead, djidn't jyou? Forr Sasseeri. Whjy hasssn't sshe met uss jyet."

"jI contacted the numberrr jyou gave me, rrou'fai. jI left thrree messsagesss about jyourr trrrjip and that jyou wanted to meet wjith herrr."

"jYou djidn't ssajy whjy djid jyou?" Sirra looked sharply at him.

"Of courrrsse not, rrou'fai." Rey'narr didn't mention that she hadn't told him why she wanted to talk to Sasseeri Reeouurra. "That jis jyourr bussjinesss alone."

"That'ss rrrjight." Gnarled hands touched all of her utensils as she rearranged the place setting in front of her.

The jacket was a little tight, but worked well enough as he grabbed a towel to drape over an arm and headed onto the floor with a couple of menus and water pitcher. He stopped at their table, near the windows, catching the very tail end of the conversation just as they had finished talking about leaving messages. So there had been some attempt to contact her, though he still couldn't ascertain why. He turned over their water glasses and filled them before taking a step back, leaving the menus on the table before them.

"Greetings and welcome to Cirrus. My name is Michael and I'll be serving you today. Can we start you off with some complimentary drinks?"

One thing I liked about the hospitality business was that there wasn't a whole lot that got around me. It was hard to cheat in my casino, thanks to cutting edge surveillance, seasoned pit bosses, and of course there was the, uh, reputation of being a Company joint, though I'd deny it to your face.

So when an old felinoid unsubtly starts asking aloud for your boss on the floor of your establishment, that kind of cream rises to the top pretty fast.

Mike was on it tout suite. Quick thinking kid. I liked him, though I'd deny it to his face. He took point once the old lady and her manservant hit up Cirrus, and I could catch a bird's eye view of the whole thing from the comfort of my office. Though the way things were looking, I might need to get involved sooner rather than later.

I buttoned up my top collar, and began to loop my tie.

"Computer, open a line to Management."

I liked to keep the voice cues nonspecific. It was professional that way. While I waited for the holo to connect, I focused on my tie. Hmm, blue or red? I paused, undoing my work mid-stride. Better make it a red tie.

The commline connected. Sasseeri's hologram shimmered into existence in front of Sanis, sitting down at her desk on Coruscant.

"What jis jit thjis tjime?" She looked a little more rumpled than normal.

"Catch you at a bad time?"

Small wins where I could get them. Sass looked like she was having a worse day than I was. I didn't have plans on lingering on the point.

"Thought you should know, I just had a guest walk into Cumulus of the Carshoulis variety. Though I guess walk is generous. She's being pushed around in a chair by a manservant, asking rather loudly where you are."

I finished with my tie, and shouldered a matching cape onto my shoulders.

"Sound like anyone I should know about?"

Sasseeri's holo frowned.

"How the hell should jI know? Pushed jin a chajirr? Not much of a," she flinched a bit, her eyes drifting away from him before focusing again, leaning back a little more in her chair. "Of a descrrjiptjion. Manserrrvant? Arre you trryjing to jimply they arrre Cizeri?" She seemed to squirm a little in her seat, though he could only see the top half of her.

I was starting to get a good idea at what condition Sassy's condition was in, so I probably didn't have a lengthy conversation window. Call it a hunch. Either way, I pretended not to notice.

"Not that I'm an expert on ears, tails, and stripes, but thats the gist. Mike's on point over at Cirrus, keeping her happy. Just trying to cover my angles here if she's someone we ought to know about."

"jIs thjis rrreally somethjing you needed to call me about?" Sasseeri glared at Sanis. "Don't call me wjith anythjing ljike thjis agajin. You don't even," she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them, "have a name forr me?! Or a pjicture!? Fuck!"

The commlink was severed and Sanis was left staring at nothing.

"Yeah, definitely caught her at a bad time."

Judging by the state of her distraction, I'd give it a few minutes. I pilfered a handful of koja nuts from a dish at my desk, cracking one audibly. Then another. Then another.

"Computer, save footage from camera 3531C, timestamp 58:5. Send image to last commlink coordinates...now."

I didn't bother raising Management again. No need to get between her and something pressing. I ate the koja nut, carefully discarding the shell fragments in the bin.

After about three minutes the commlink beeped and Sasseeri's form flickered back into view. Her hair was even more messed up than it had been before, and she was leaning in on her desk toward the holocam.

"What. The. Hell. jIs Sirraaithi Meorrrei dojing jin MY CASjINO?! That old bat should be dead by now! Get rrrjid of herrr!"

I was ready to have a little more fun at Sassy's expense, but the name she blurted out put me on a fast detour.

"Meorrrei? As in that Meorrrei?"

Maybe, maybe not. I wasn't the expert on common Cizeri last names. But she was apparently a big enough deal to elicit a big deal sort of reaction from Sassy. I frowned.

"Which flavor of get rid of her are we talking, here?"

She was in one of those moods, and I probably didn't want to go poking the wampa, but I didn't exactly want to dampen my evening by defenestrating someone's grandma.

"Knock herr down the stajirrs or somethjing!" Sasseeri bared her teeth, and then put her hand on her face, shaking her head. "No, no, don't do that. Fjind out what she wants. Put herr up jin one of the monjitorrred sujites. Tell herr jI'm on my way, jif that's what she needs to hearr."

Judging by the glisten on Sassy's forehead, this was probably the most productive the conversation was gonna be. I was relieved when the first suggestion was just dark humor. I hated having to get my hands dirty at home. Much less when it might be a Meorrrei involved. Hell, who even knew if she was related to Cirr and Taataani and the rest?

"Consider her pampered and under wraps."

There was an itch I was tempted to scratch. Pull up comm frequencies I rarely used, and connect with my old life. I didn't dwell on that thought though.

"Anyways, I'll let you get back to office work. Make sure to give your intern a pat on the head and tell him he did a good job."

I winked, and ate another nut.

Sasseeri's lips curled in an expression best described as 'half-smile, half-snarl.' "jI'll let herrr know. And Sanjis... you'rrre always welcome to study underr me. You could use some hands on trrrajinjing."

The hologram winked out.

The security AI, Tragoni, buzzed Sanis' commlink.

"There is a player counting cards at one of the sabacc tables. Security has been dispatched to remove them."

Cline's lips tightened a bit harder, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his temperament as the elderly Cizeri had been going on for 10 solid minutes about the poor service. He hadn't even noticed that he'd taken over for someone else. It was good mind you that she had seen her server nearly instantly upon being seated. Poor service his ass.

After the initial confusion Mike had brought their tea and tried to recommend a few... stronger suggestions to loosen the tongue. He still wanted to be sure of the who and why of the pair. At this point though he had read enough of their intentions to simply be annoyed. As far as he could pick up there was no malice or ill-intent around them. Just a rapidly growing irritation.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm quite sorry for the inconvenience. Your last server had to step away for an emergency and I hadn't been aware of your initial order. Would you like to hear our specials, or are you ready to order?"

Cline would have to make sure to tip the waitress he'd taken over for himself. In just 10 minutes he'd come to have a brand new appreciation for the service staff.

"Eh? What'ss that?" Sirra turned to Ray'narr. "Whjy won't he sspeak up?!"

"Apologjiess, rou'fai." The elderly manservant bowed to her, and then turned to the red-haired forrda. "jYourr fjinesst nerrf steak. Raw, pleasse."

Sirraaithi turned her wrinkled glower on the forrda until the young male excused himself. "jIf thjiss jiss what ssserrrvjice meanss to Sasseeri jI wonderr what jI'm dojing herrre."

He'd had to turn as soon as the order was given to him and start walking away so as to avoid either of them noticing the twitch that had developed at the corner of his eye. Cline actually managed to make it back to the kitchen before sounding off.

"Nerf Steak for Table 7. Raw. Someone bring me a glove as well so I may shove it down her throat." It was a joke to let out some steam. Mostly.

I was on my way out when Tragoni chimed in to throw me off my game. The omniscient AI was Sassy's idea, tethering the whole empire of dice and chips together. Honestly, it felt like the kind of purchase someone made just to say they did it. I didn't care for the thing.

"Right. Well, just handle it discretely. Speaking of discrete, set for text alert only, I'm headed to the floor."

The trip down was just a flight of stairs. I liked having an office where I could ostensibly keep an eye on things, at least most of them. Cirrus was a dogleg around the residential lifts, but what I couldn't catch by line of sight, the casino had with ridiculously redundant cams. It just made the whole Tragoni decision even more befuddling really. Security on the floor was already great. Topping that, anybody dumb enough to think about knocking over the Cumulus or even putting one past the house knew the greatest secret that never really was. It was a Company House, and You Do Not Fuck With The Company. Seriously, businesses spent millions to buy that kind of brand recognition. The Cumulus and her sisters got it for free-ish. More or less.

I caught sight of Mikey as he was peeling himself away from the kitchen threshold.

"Mike."

I flagged him over with two fingers, keeping my expression vaguely hospitable and my voice down when he approached.

"What's the angle on the old lady? I can almost hear her yelling for the boss from the office. Who is she to Sasseeri?"

Cline had been waiting on the steak, frankly enjoying his time out of earshot of the old Cizeri woman when he caught sight of Prent, already starting toward him as his employee beckoned him over.

"What's the angle on the old lady? I can almost hear her yelling for the boss from the office. Who is she to Sasseeri?"

Good. So he'd noticed her as well, not that you could easily miss her. Like he said, she was not being subtle in her insistence on seeing Ms. Sasseeri.

"I've been trying to suss that out, myself." Mike scratched at his neck, "Despite how loudly, and abusively, she's protesting - that information at least she seems to be holding close to her chest. But what I have been able to pick up on..."

He kept his voice lowered, emphasizing the words to let Sanis know what skill he was using for that reading. "Is that she doesn't seem to mean any harm. At least not directly. Honestly it's hard to get a lot from her other than a growing sense of frustration. I have a feeling she's used to getting her way. Perfectly and immediately."

He chuckled a bit at that. "Reminds me a bit of Ms. Sasseeri that way. Only, you know, far less agreeable and attractive. Unless you're into that centenarian thing."

The kid was putting too much frosting on the cupcake, and I gave him the blank sort of look that should give a hint that he could eighty-six the editorializing.

"Well, she's a Meorrrei is all that I know. Whether that's Meorrrei Meorrrei or just the coincidence sort I don't know. But let's err on option one. I want all this comped."

I vaguely gestured to the kitchen.

"Ask the sommelier to run up a bottle of Pai Leeha. It's not vogue, but she'll probably appreciate the touch. Comped too. She's probably not gonna be in and out, so if she does kick up heels, I want her put in the Ambassadorial Suite, gratis.

Meanwhile, I'll go butter her up, see if we can get her to relax, and hopefully spend some money here, because if she's the former kind of Meorrrei, she's got it."

The look Mr. Prent hit him with said it better than any empathetic reading Cline was going to get. Stop rambling, give him the facts. Maybe he was just needing to blow off some tension from dealing with her or maybe there was something else - but he couldn't help but feel that odd familiarity at the situation anyway. He'd have to chalk it up to the demanding nature of Cizerack women for now at least and keep the rest to himself.

"Right. I'm on it." He said already stepping away to find the wine steward. Meorrrei was a damn big name to be thrown around. So nix shoving the steak down her throat. Kid gloves all the way.

"Way to be a team player." I gave Mike an easy grin.

"I'll go play the point man and take the heat off while you square things away with the sommelier. No big deal. Just another whale. We take care of her and she'll take care of us."

It was a little flashy and cliche, but I'd settled into that second skin so well that sometimes I almost believed it myself.

Taking leave of Mike, I approached the VIP's table, making certain I approached from a direction where I could be seen coming. No sense in surprising for no reason. I stood at the opposite edge of their table, hands clasped in front.

"Good evening, Rrou'a and Arr'u. Welcome to Cirrus. I hope your time above the clouds has been the tops. I'm Sanis Prent, executive of Cumulus Casino. I just wanted to let you that your meal this evening is on us, and our sommelier is working to bring you something special as well. What can I do to make your visit memorable?"

"Eh?" Sirraaithi peered up at the hyuu-man who was now towering over their table. "Djid you forrrget mjy orrderr?"

"No, rou'fai, he jiss offerrrjing uss wjine." Rey'narr looked up at Sanis Prent, a dignified smile on his face. "Thank jyou, but we do not drrjink alcohol."

"Terrrjible forrr mjy djigesstjion!"

"jIndeed, rrou'fai." Rey'narr nodded, making sure her tea was within reach.

"Wherre'ss Sasseeri? She should be herrre." Sirra lifted palsied hands to lift her black lace veil, revealing an ancient, wrinkled face that looked very similar to Taataani Meorrrei, just ... older. Much older.

No wine, easy. I could simply wave Mike off with a glance on the rebound. It would be time wasted, and the sommelier would hate him, but this was how you danced with whales. Defer, defer, defer. Even when you're not deferring.

"Not a problem."

Disarming with a smile, I was about to suggest a sparkling mineral water, but the elder Meorrrei drew back the veil shrouding her face as she asked specifically about Sasseeri's whereabouts.

"I apologize, Rrou Meorrrei, but Rrou'eita Reeouurra is currently overseeing one of our other properties..."

The veil fully drew back, and now there was little denying the name recognition. If this woman wasn't closely related to Taataani - and by course Sasseeri - then that was one hell of a coincidence. Say what you will about Jedi, but I believe in coincidences about as much as they do.

"...she wanted me to convey that she regrets not being able to meet you in person. However, while you're on Bespin, I want to offer you two nights' access to the Governor's Suite, at no cost."

The data cylinder had already been pre-loaded, and I produced it with a holoflimsy that redundantly announced our compliments.

"Now, can I see about a sparkling mineral water instead to accompany your meal?"

​[Mr. Prent, Sasseeri has summoned Xel Naga to the Cumulus, for use in this situation if needed. At your discretion.]

"Meal? jYesss, wherrre jiss mjy meal?" The old Cizeri woman peered around, and it was difficult to tell whether she was irritated of genuinely confused.

"Tea jiss jussst fjine," replied Rey'narr graciously. "Thank jyou forrr the ssujite, jI am ssurre Rrou Meorrrei wjill be pleassed."

A server appeared from behind Sanis, two raw slabs of meat on beautiful plates, and managed to place them on the table without really being noticed. Sirraaithi's nostrils widened and she proceeded to ignore the handsome man standing at the table, opening her mouth expectantly.

Rey'narr gently pushed his own plate to the side, pulling hers closer and using utensils to cut a bite-sized piece of steak. He placed it in his mistress's mouth, and her lips closed delicately around it, eyes closing as she chewed.

Once she had swallowed he had another bite ready for her. Sanis was about to escape the table when Sirraaithi's eyes popped open and she fixed him with her gaze, even as her manservant readied a napkin to dab her chin.

"jYou wjill esscorrt uss to the rrroom. jIn casse jit jiss not to mjy ljikjing." She opened her mouth and Rey'narr fed her another small bite of meat.

On the way to get a bottle of Pai Leeha Mike had passed along the request to prepare the Ambassadorial suite, just in case. The last thing anyone here needed was to irritate their new 'patron' further. The red-head was quite finished dealing with her if he could avoid it. The sommelier had muttered about the sudden request for bloodwine, seemingly lost in his own world of tending to the various bottles and vintages the casino stocked.

Mike had returned to the kitchen to prepare a tray, glasses and key. He didn't have much experience in serving wine, but had watched it done enough with his own drinking - a growing problem he recognized - to understand the method. When the sommelier arrived, wine bottle resting on his arm, Michael went about arranging the tray. Two glasses, even if the older Cizerak's companion wouldn't be drinking, the key and the bottle, standing up, on the tray beside them. Mike grabbed a thin, white linen towel and folded it neatly, professionally on one side to help brace the bottle - not trusting his own inexperience. The whole arrangement didn't look bad at all, in his opinion - and with a heft of the tray onto the palm of one hand stepped out of the kitchen to return to the table.

His walk slowed to a halt when he made eye contact with Mr. Prent and waited for the go ahead before approaching.

Enforcer Naga, report to Cumulus CasiiiiinnnOOOO///..||..rrrrreeeporrrrrTTTTT

://:rebooooOOootttttttttt....:://|::

Security Lockdown Initiated.

Flicking his cigarette blindly into the general vicinity of a trash can he grumbled noisily as he stuffed his comm back in his pocket. Pushing off from his shoulders he broke free from the comfort of the wall like a broken glacier falling free, plunging back into the cacophony of sounds and bodies in the street. He navigated the ocean of faces with all the grace of a brick shithouse that sold nothing but brood and grump, and was entirely sold out of fucks and hair. People either got out of his way or were shoulder checked so hard to left them stunned and looking around to find someone else to confirm that what he had just happened had, indeed, happened and was not a bizarre figment of their imagination.

Most got out of the way. Even if his reputation didn't proceed him, he definitely looked the type that was better to avoid. Or better yet, crossing to the other side of the street to avoid. Fresh bruises on his face and head shone brightly like warning lights.

The call had gone out. He hated it when the security AI called him. It felt demeaning. Sass and Sanis could at least give him the courtesy of calling him themselves. He'd been around this organization long enough, and had done more than his fair share of the dirtiest work. He deserved some crumb of respect, but he'd be damned if he ever even saw the bread it broke from; much less a crumb. Getting called to the Cumulus usually meant one of two things; either they needed somebody tossed out, and more often than not roughed up out back; or Sanis was going to lecture him again about how he interpreted the jobs he was given. Something something those blood stains will never come out of the carpet. Or the walls. Oh god why was it on the ceiling?

"Dirk."

The heavy-set bouncer turned from the door to look at Xel as he approached. He had a concerned look on his face, and was flushed like he had been straining.

"Damn door isn't opening."

"What do you mean?"

"Did I stutter, Slick? The. Door. Will. Not. Open. I heard it bolt shut a minute ago."

"Probably just that little punk Mike guy pulling a prank. He seems the type."

"Nah, bro. Only Tragoni can hard lock the doors. No way she answers to Mike."

"Then call it in already."

"I am not going to be the guy who calls Mr. Prent to ask him if he locked the door on purpose."

"By the Emperor's Black bones you are such a little wuss. Fine. I'll call him. I ain't scared of him."

He was already thumbing his comm as they talked and all that was left was to push the call button and wait for Sanis to answer.

I caught sight of Mike out of the corner of my eye, bringing up the requested dusty Cizeri vintage. I called him off with a glance. Hopefully he delegated on having the bottle sent back to the cellar, because I had a feeling I'd need him running support again sooner rather than later.

My wrist comm kept buzzing again, something about a security call to the floor. Xel would be on that, no worries there. Another ping in short succession turned to garbled noise, but an ominous tag lit up the end line.

Security Lockdown Initiated.

I frowned, but only briefly, turning my attention away from my comm.

"I'll be glad to do so, Rrou'a. Let me know when you are ready. If you'll excuse me for one moment?"

Her manservant seemed to be doing a good job at keeping her mouth full, so maybe I'd have a little bit of time to deal with whatever new problem had cropped up. I headed in Mike's direction, but used the time to get a better look at the last message.

"The hell?"

As I did, the comm buzzed with incoming from Xel.

"Talk to me."

The call picked up. Xel was sure that there wouldn't be an answer. Sanis was usually oh so busy.

"Everything going okay in there? Front door is locked down."

The two of them had already begun troubleshooting the controls, and even used his own override codes which were a higher clearance level then Dirk's. No dice. He tapped through a few more menus before the screen seized up and bright flashing lights spelled out SECURITY LOCKDOWN.

"Says it's locked down. Can't override. You guys getting robbed in there?"

The crowd of would be patrons was building up behind them. Dirk was damage controlling, but there was only so much bullshit the people of Bespin can take. Sorry, the door broke; ain't a good one neither.

I felt myself making a face, and I willed it back into something a bit more metered as I ensured that the back of my head was between my comm stick and Rrou Meorrrei.

"I got the same message, and no, unless you count a very fat whale getting comped a few thousand in bennies, there's no robbery, so get this shit sorted out, pronto. I need bodies at tables and machines and spending money. Don't let Sassy's digital bouncer piss away the meal ticket."

I wanted to say more, but for want of it, I closed a fist gently in front of my mouth. That stupid computer, what a waste of credits. Say what you want about guys like Xel, you could at least clean 'em up and put 'em in a suit and they'd be discrete to a point. There was efficiency, and then there was completely screwing the pooch. Call me old fashioned, but I knew where I'd be placing my chips more often than not.

"Find out how deep this goes. I need to be able to sell whats available in the meantime."

Rey'narr put down the fork as his mistress waved him off, and began to eat his own meal as the old rrou'fai leaned unsubtly toward where Sanis was trying to have a private conversation. With her degenerative hearing loss she couldn't make out anything, of course, but Rey'narr's ears were as sharp as ever. He helped Sirraaithi settle back into the hoverchair before she unbalanced herself, and caught something about there's no robbery, which was a relief and concerning at the same time.

"jI want to go mjy rrroom now," Sirraaithi announced, and Rey'narr quickly took a few more bites before getting up stiffly from the table to assist her with her chair before she tried driving it herself again.

Mike had handed off the bottle as soon as Mr. Prent had motioned for him not to bother. Internally he was reminding himself of the importance of customer service, arguing against that little flicker of anger that wanted to take the very expensive bottle and bash someone's head in for the day he was having. Instead he opted to hang back and wait for direction, let the boss take the lead in dealing with the situation and sooner, rather than later, hopefully he'd be back on footing he was more comfortable with. Playing host and waiter wasn't among his better talents.

Mike knew how to be polite, to play the role, but it was shallow and surface level. Despite the suit, despite the respect he gave to someone like Mr. Prent or Ms. Sasseeri, the red-head knew what he was at his core. Michael was, and always had been a thug.

I could hear the old lady stirring. Why was it always five bites of food and a nap with old people? The timing stunk like a tauntaun at low tide.

"Certainly," I nodded with a reassuring smile. "Give me one moment, and I'll be with you."

In the dozen steps it took to close with Mikey, I quickly punched in my access level lockout override code. Whatever flutter had gotten into the computer, it should in theory at least respond to my access. If not, it was going to involve some combination of arc cutters and ripping the guts out of a computer, both of which would be expensive and embarassing.