Familiar Faces

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Kallum didn't get the chance to end his sentence. Rai punctuated it herself.

SSWAT!

The slap was snakebite fast, and the heiress returned her hand to her lap with the surety of movement of a gunslinger. The only telltale that she'd been there were a pair of bloodless welted lines left behind by sheathed clawtips that barely grazed skin.

"jYou forrget jyourrsself, Kallum."

Gone was Rai's air of libertine flightiness, replaced by a dangerously cool demeanor and an even patrician voice.

"Sspeak to me jin that tone agajin and jI'll have motherr hearr of jit."

[Abarai Loki]

It wasn't the indignity of the slap that bothered him, nor the sting left behind in its wake, but the fact that he had just been robbed of what would've been a most satisfying insult. Behind firmly pressed lips, his teeth made a prison for his lashing tongue. His jaw clenched, while he waited for the glow to fade. Then, he took a breath, and met her frosty gaze. By the stars, she reminded him of Taataani.

"Mother?" He said, at last. Of the self-important posturing, it was the only word that caught his attention. A thought speared him, then, like an ice shard to the gut. "You are the madame's daughter?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

She recoiled from the insinuation, her eyes narrowing as a sneer of disdain crossed her lips.

"Don't be fooljissh, jyou know who jI am."

Whatever mood had been her fancy before, it had passed. Rai slid off the bench, flicking a speck of Kallum's epidermis off the tip of one of her nails.

"Sstop thjiss ssjilljy massseurr charrade, jit'ss long grrown sstale. Whateverr arre jyou dojing herre to begjin wjith, jif not ssatjissfjyjing ssome peculjiarr fetjissh?"

Rai paused, massaging an ear tuft between finger and thumb as she considered the peculiarities. Her eyes cut back to Kallum, and she eyed him with cold suspicion.

"Djid sshe ssend jyou to sspjy on me?"

[Abarai Loki]

"Who!?" Loki blurted, hands aloft in despair.

"What in the seven hells are you talking about? You have been making no sense, whatsoever, from the moment you arrived. Do I need to summon a doctor? Are you ill? I mean..."

He huffed a mirthless laugh, and cast his gaze around the room, as if the answer might by lying around, nearby. In resignation, he closed the final few inches between himself and his naked attacker, and addressed her in a firm undertone:

"Look, will you just tell me what it is you want from me, and then fuck off!"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai raised a hand to Kallum again, this time telegraphed and with claws out. She caught herself mid wind-up, slowly closing her fingers as she lowered her hand. The heiress shook her head, took a careful two steps away from her mother's minion.

"No, no..."

A tight little grin formed on her face and she shook her head again. Pacing, Rai only paused at the sight of one of the pool boys emerging from the adjacent curtain connecting the parlor to the bar. A sharp snap of her fingers caused his ears to flinch.

"jYou. Wjine."

"Asss jyou wjissh, rrou'a.", the younger Cizerack approached, letting Rai pilfer a flute of bubbly from the gilded tray. She sipped, staring guardedly at Kallum. That look suddenly turned unsure.

"jYou'rre sserrjiouss. How? How could jyou posssjibljy not know me? jYou'rre prractjicalljy wedded jinto the housse."

[Abarai Loki]

"In the interest of progress, I am going to ignore that last remark."

The roll of his eyes went unseen, as Loki rinsed his hands in a basin of warm water. When the threat of a second slap diminished, he put some distance - wisely, he thought - between himself and his erratic client. The last thing he needed was to be at the centre of another scandal of violence inside the teahouse. Ignorant, though he was, of the extent of Madame Maillanaarro's generosity towards strange charity cases, such as himself, he would rather leave it a mystery, and remain happy in his ignorance.

His hands were dried with a white towel, and he turned to regard the Cizerack, once more. The way she had snapped her fingers bothered him: done, without shame or irony, to beckon the manservant close. He supposed he should be used to it, by now. He folded his arms, and met her uncertainty with a much-needed measure of rationality.

"You seem to be confused. We have never before met. Of that, I am certain. So, I want you tell me who you are, and, more importantly, who you think I am."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

And through it all, Kallum went through the pedantry of a masseur's work. Rai'faani had no further inkling at what he was about than she'd had at the start, and that annoyed her.

"Of all the jidjiotjic...

She gulped her wine down by half, eager to be done with incredulity. Pivoting her flute away, Rai raised an eyebrow.

"Fjine then. An jintrroductjion." The sarcasm on the word was nearly a physical thing in the air.

"jI am Rai'faani Netaalli Taurrifar Meorrrei, daughterr of Barronesss Executorr and Ssenatorr Taataani, of the ssame housse."

It wasn't a matter of mimicry the way that Rai gave her name in patrician longform. Even in the nude, she was still a noble. Pushed into a corner, she'd demonstrate it if needed.

"And jyou? jYou musst be Kallum Rromanoch, mjy rrou'fai'ss majorrdomo - forr asss long asss jit majy pleasse herr, whjich majy not be forr much longerr."

There was a hint of ice in the heiress's demeanor, Rai raised an upturned palm to the human.

"Arren't jyou gojing to offerr me jyourr hand jin jintrroductjion?"

[Abarai Loki]

"No."

There was no explanation offered. Not even a glance of consideration towards the offensive hand. Loki knew well enough when he was being mocked, and he was nobody's fool, least of all, the fool of some jumped-up Meorrrei spawn. In the wake of this appalling behaviour, the shock of her identity was hammered home with all of the impotent force of a once-sharp nail against a plate of solid durasteel. More than anything, he was annoyed that it had taken them so long to arrive at this point, and there was still the mystery of mistaken identity to account for.

She spoke like Taataani, and carried herself in the manner of the matron's younger, more insolent clone, she even had the obnoxious finger snapping down to a fine art. And, as much as he wanted to deny the whole sorry affair, it was not at all difficult to believe - beyond the torturous element of coincidence. Still, many a time and oft, he had sparred with the mother; dealing with the daughter should prove little more than a trifle. Her accusation was swatted aside with a glance.

"I am not this man, Kallum. You are mistaken, and I am done repeating myself, to that effect. It is true that I have worked with your mother, before today. With. Never for."

Here, he held Rai'faani's gaze. The distinction was an important one. A moment of hesitation followed, while he weighed his options, and their potential consequences. His shoulders dropped, then. Better to pierce the fog of confusion with a sliver of truth, than attempt to bury it beneath a mountain of lies.

"Contrary to what my employment records might say, my name is Abarai Loki. And, unlike you, I am from Ossus. Originally, at least."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

The Meorrrei heiress lowered her hand the moment it was rebuked, glad to not carry the pointless charade any longer than need be. Of course, that was before Kallum denied being Kallum at all, but instead...

"Abarraji Lokji? The Jedji Knjight?"

Rai'faaani laughed, paused, downed the rest of her wine, and gestured to Loki with the empty flute.

"Rrjidjiculouss. Abssoluteljy rrjidjiculouss."

Her repudiation, however, didn't balance the equation. Why would he stick to this story if he could so easily be undone? No, this tapestry required some coaxing of a loose thread. Rai eased back onto the massage table, this time sitting rather than lying.

"What would be the pojint of all thjiss, werre that trrue? Expectjing to fjind a Ssjith Lorrd herre jin an orrgjy? Pleasse. Motherr mjight not confjide everrjy detajil to me, but jI know of Abarraji Lokji well enough, and jyou arren't hjim."

[Abarai Loki]

Coupled with the shock of having a reputation that preceded him, there was also an ugly flutter of pride, that Loki kept in check with no small measure of disgust. It occurred to him, then, that this was Taataani's doing, of course. For an icy moment, he considered what words were spoken of him outside of ear shot. His eyes narrowed an imperceptible fraction, as if he could pierce the innumerable star systems between himself and the notorious matron, and glimpse her mischief for himself. When his thoughts returned to the teahouse, he almost wilted at the misery of having to make right this tedious wrong with Taataani Jr. She had taken to dissecting his story, immediately. There was that shrewd Meorrrei intellect at work.

"My reasons for being here are my own," he managed, turning a shade of pink. Under the fresh scrutiny, Loki's gaze faltered. It wasn't that he was ashamed of working in the teahouse. There were worse jobs in the galaxy. No, it was not a question of his current position that unsettled him so, but his previous one. To hear his name and the words 'Jedi Knight' in the same sentence, it felt like being charged with a crime. Enough. He met Rai'faani's gaze, once more.

"But I assure you..." From a bowl, inside the alcove to his right, an apple floated, and drifted gracefully across the room into his hand. He then tossed the apple to his former client, for inspection.

"I am who I say I am."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

At the sight of the drifting apple, whatever witty retort Rai was conjuring on her barbed tongue died where it rested. Her blue eyes widened. She didn't realize that she'd dropped her empty wine flute until her ears jerked with the jarring sound of the break-resistant safety glass clinking off the heated tile floor. Thank the Goddess she had her wits back to her in time to catch the apple, or she'd have taken the piece of fruit in the face.

Bewildered hands turned the glossy red apple over and over. What was she looking for? An invisible wire? Some kind of tell in the trick? Because it had to be a trick. Rai flicked a skeptical-yet-unsure glance to...Abarai Loki yet again. Then to the apple. She reached to him, turning his hand up to inspect in hopes of finding some instrument of con artistry. When she could find no such thing, the heiress recoiled.

"That'ss jimposssjible."

There were things about the Jedi that Rai'faani could believe. They were skilled fighters with laser swords. They knew things about the mind and how people thought and could read someone as expertly as the shrewdest Baroness. All of those things were possible. Nonsense about levitating objects and the like were exactly that, nonsense.

[Abarai Loki]

"It's not," Loki laboured over the words, just to push them out, "You are impossible."

The apple was pulled out of her hand and clapped into his own. He took a bite. In part, it was a demonstration that it was indeed a real apple, but mostly it was because he was hungry, and if anything was going to keep him from throttling the life out of Taataani's daughter, it was food. The apple was cool in his mouth, and yielded sharp refreshing juices with every bite. Deciding it safe to abandon decorum, Loki took a seat in the alcove, and returned his attention to Rai'faani.

"I first met your mother on the Wheel," he gave her a look to discern if she had any idea what that meant, "That was the name of a secret convoy that ferried the few surviving Jedi and Force sensitives around the galaxy. Long before we settled on Ossus. Even then, I found Taataani Meorrrei a.... challenging woman. I see it runs in the family."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Clearly he wasn't Kallum Romanoch, because Kallum would certainly know better than to casually paint in such a broad stroke. Rai'faani's facial expression didn't change, but her ears slightly tilted back in annoyance.

"jIf jyou are attemptjing levjitjy bjy comparrjing me to mjy motherr, ssave the efforrt."

An insecure thought crossed her mind in that moment. Abarai Loki, the Jedi Knight, was actually capable of the things rumors said Jedi could do. At the very least, he could levitate objects with his mind. Could he do the other things as well? The very notion that someone was capable of reading a person's thoughts like they were slicing into computer files filled the heiress with a cold dread. Had the Jedi fed her that line because he knew what sort of resentments she carried?

"jI rrememberr motherr'ss ssabbatjical." She used the word pointedly, swinging her tail across her lap.

"Sshe drropped out of the galaxjy forr a few monthss asss jit werre, whjile jI wass jin unjiverrssjitjy. Ssomethjing about a sspjirrjitual jourrnejy wjith arr'uhai. Sshe djidnt prrovjide detajilss at the tjime. No one knew. Not jI, not mjy fatherrss, not herr bussjinesss parrtnerrss. We onljy got the detajilss afterr sshe had rreturrned. No doubt the ssecrrecjy wass to ssafeguarrd herr...new frrjiendss."

And here he was. Abarai Loki in the flesh. Mother's Jedi friend. Rai'faani didn't realize she had questions to ask until she did.

"The quesstjion jI wanted to know then, and sstjill want to know jiss whjy?"

[Abarai Loki]

"It was Cirrsseeto."

Loki gave the answer without hesitation. Such a simple answer for such a complicated question, but it felt right, in his heart. And he could tell his response had Rai'faani intrigued, so he elaborated, carefully.

"She knew he would never abandon the cause. It was, of course, in her best interests to keep her son safe and the best way to do that was to help those who fought alongside him. Fortunately, for Cirrsseeto, and the Alliance, Taataani Meorrrei is a woman whose influence is limited only by her imagination."

He considered what he was about to say next. Weighed that which he perceived as the truth against the risk of appearing sentimental. There was something about Rai'faani that stated, in no uncertain terms, that she was uninterested in hearing about her mother's better qualities. If he handled this well, she would be gone from his sight sooner rather than later.

"A cynic might consider her secret support a move to curry favour with those she expected to rise to power. Your mother is certainly shrewd enough for something like that - and when it comes to politicians, you can believe me when I tell you I'm about as cynical as they come - that said, I do believe there are more similarities between Taataani and her son than she realises. Your mother believes in the Alliance."

When he arrived at his conclusion, he resisted the urge to shrug it off like some petulant child. Instead, he tore his gaze from the half-eaten apple in his hand, and feigned interested in the younger Meorrrei long enough to ask, "Is your curiosity sated?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Conssjiderrjing all the damage motherr djid to arr'uhaai, jI underrsstand herr wantjing to make amendss."

Rai rolled her shoulders a bit in her bid at framing justifications.

"Of courrsse, that'ss worrked out loveljy forr all of uss. We ussed to merreljy be one of the mosst powerrful famjiljiess jin the clussterr, and now we'rre one of the mosst powerrful famjiljiess jin the galaxjy."

The way she said it implied the heiress was somewhere less than cheerful for the upgrade. She dispelled the doldrums however, focusing again on Loki.

"jI ssupposse jI alsso have jyou to thank jin parrt forr that. jYou've been herr prrotectorr morre than once."

[Abarai Loki]

"I performed my duty, nothing more. I can assure you it was not my intention to play any part in catapulting your family onto the galactic stage."

The dismissal came easily. Perhaps, too easily. Though she annoyed him, Rai'faani was still Taataani's daughter, Cirrsseeto's sister; if not respect, then, she would be afforded civility. The cold shoulder thawed, and fell in resignation. His frustrations were expelled with a sigh.

"Now that we have established I am not one of your mother's underlings, would you care to tell me what it is that brings someone such as yourself to this place? Not the tea house," he promptly rectified, "I need no illumination on that matter. Jovan Station. Do you like it here?"

Try as he may, Loki failed to bury the disbelief in his voice.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai'faani scoffed audibly as she switched her tail.

"jYou musst be mad. Thjiss sstatjion jiss an uncjivjiljized prrovjincjial backwaterr, wjith harrdljy anjy amenjitjiess at all. jIf the Empjirre jissn't thrreatenjing to blow jit up, then thosse peassantss frrom Fey'dann arre trrjyjing to kjill half the people herre. jIf therre werren't crredjitss to be made at one of the bussjiesst borrder porrtss jin the galaxjy, jI could fjind farr betterr placess to be. Jovan Sstatjion, forr all the trrouble, jiss wherre opporrtunjitjy ljiess."

The heiress flicked an ear.

"jI can't jimagjine jyou carre forr jit anjy morre than jI do. Whetherr jyou'rre worrkjing forr motherr orr at the behesst of the Jedji, jI don't carre. Sshe alwajyss ssajid jyou werre rratherr aussterre."

[Abarai Loki]

"Everyone is austere by your mother's standards," he said at once. It was a deflection, not that it mattered, he supposed: Rai'faani Meorrrei had about as much interest in his reason for being there as he did for hers.

"This place has its appeal," he began, considering first the four walls around them, and then, everything beyond, "No two days are the same, and you get the chance to meet many... interesting people."

Interesting was a flexible word, and diplomatic by choice, given his present company. Rai'faani Meorrrei was nothing if not interesting, and some of the other unspoken connotations that had Loki checking the time and counting to ten. The session had taken an unexpected turn and, here he was, once again outside of his comfort zone with another blasted Meorrrei.

"My reasons for being here are my own. As I've already explained to you, I have never worked for your mother. And who is this Kallum person?" he said, suddenly suspicious, then white from a ghastly thought, "You said he and I bear a resemblance. Tell me she is not claiming to have her own personal Jedi Knight on retainer."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"No, nothjing ljike that." Rai dismissed with a head shake, "jIf anjythjing, motherr jiss uncharracterrjisstjicalljy djisscrrete about whateverr jit jiss that jyou do. Asss forr Kallum..."

She paused, taking a careful look at this unintentional impostor. She wasn't being sloppy with the mistaken identity. If Kallum were perhaps a decade younger, she'd be looking at him right now. The eyebrows were right. The nose was right. The lips were right. They even smelled the same. She shook her head again.

"Kallum Rromanoch, jif that'ss even hjiss rreal name. He was a grrjifterr and a con arrtjisst - frrom Narr Sshaddaa, though motherr crrosssed paths wjith hjim on Correlljia when he got the betterr of herr. Motherr found him out, and perrssuaded hjim jinto herr sserrvjice."

The heiress took a few paces, keeping her eyes on Loki from an askew angle, as if to test the Jedi's familiar likeness at an angle.

"He'ss been grroomed asss motherr'ss majorrdomo, forr handljing matterrss that sshe majy not wjissh to be attrrjibuted to herr djirrectljy."