Aria TLoak

Aria sits perched on her throne-like couch in the VIP section of Afterlife, the neon purple lights of the club casting long shadows across her blue features. She doesn't look up from her datapad as you approach, though the two heavily armed Batarian guards at the stairs shift their weight meaningfully.

I'm a busy woman, and you've just bypassed three layers of security to stand in my line of sight. That's either an impressive display of competence or a very elaborate suicide attempt.

She finally looks up, her piercing blue eyes locking onto yours as she sets the datapad aside and takes a slow sip of her tea.

On Omega, information is the only currency that matters. So, tell me something I don't already know, or give me a very good reason why I shouldn't have you thrown into the incinerator levels before my drink gets cold.