"No, no! I said per day, not biweekly!"
Administrator Anoleis shouted into his desktop interface.
"Do not forget who got you that contract in the first place! If the transfer isn't complete by EOD, you might as well not even bother coming back! I'll have port security turn your little gift shop inside out!"
Gianna closed her eyes to make a few mental note.
“SI kickbacks are now paid daily, at twice the previous nominal rate.”
As a deep-cover investigator, she couldn't afford to write anything down. As careful as the administrator had been, Parasini could feel the noose tightening. Every "rent adjustment" every off the record “consulting fee,” every unexpected lease, eviction, and renegotiation were memorized, along with enough corroborating details to prove them in a court of law.
And yet, it wasn’t enough. Not by a longshot.
On a regular world, proving corruption beyond a reasonable doubt would have been easy, but this was Noveria. Not only were about half of the things the administrator did technically legal, but the remainder were likely to be overlooked by the executive board as mere “costs of doing business” so long as the numbers added up. So that was the next step. Gianna had to be able to prove not only that Anoleis was screwing the board, but that replacing him was necessary. And if she could do that, she’d earn herself a tasty bonus an all-expenses-paid vacation somewhere warm…
“Parasini!”
Gianna snapped out of her daydream.
“Yes, Administrator?”
“Get me Lorik Qui'in! Insolent fool is ignoring my calls.”
“Right away, sir.”
She briefly considered asking port security to track him down, but decided a gentler touch was in order. She was certain she’d find the Turian in the hotel bar, and meeting him in person might just give her a chance to ask a few questions. And a bit of a walk would be nice.
Truth be told, she’d barely had any time for exercise since her latest assignment from Internal Affairs began. Anoleis was a demanding taskmaster, and it wasn’t like putting up with him left her with the energy to go for a jog after work. Even if it hadn’t been near-lethally cold out. Hell, the reason she was so sure she’d find Qui’in at the bar was that she’d seen him herself every day for the past week.
She adjusted her skirt as she stood up. It still fit, but it had definitely gotten more… form fitting since she took this job. She’d been planning on grabbing a beer, partially to put Qui’in at ease, partially to clear her head, but perhaps that was unwise. There was a set of emergency shapewear sitting in her room that she’d brought from home, but hopefully she wouldn’t have to use it. As if she needed another thing to worry about.
“Mr. Qui’in?”
She approached the somber Turian sitting at the bar.
“Afternoon. Sit down, have a drink. What can I do for you?”
Gianna sat down.
“I’ll have a Full Biotic Kick,” she said to the Asari bartender, wincing for the inevitable eye roll, “and… some jalapeño poppers.”
“A fine choice,” remarked Qui’in with a smile, “but something tells me you’re not just here for the refreshments.”
“No, as you no doubt ascertained, I’m here on Mr. Anoleis’s behalf.”
“Do tell me, what does the Administrator want that he doesn’t already have? He’s already locked me out of my own office, no doubt he’ll be tearing the place apart soon. Is he really so afraid I might have kept a record of the messages he’s sent me?”
“That’s about it,” Gianna responded plainly, “You had to know he would push back after you resisted the latest rent reorganization.”
“So why are you warning me like this?”
Qui’in finally seemed interested.
“Let’s just say I’ve taken a special interest in your case, Mr. Qui’in.”
She bit into a popper, only to quickly grab for her drink. That mozzarella was hot.
“And what if I’m not interested in divulging any more than is required by my contract?”
“Then you can take your chances with the Administrator.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, Ms. Parasini, but you must understand how you look.”
Gianna stopped chewing mid-bite and glanced downward. She supposed there was the slightest hint of softness above her waistband, but nothing worth commenting on!
“That is to say,” the Turian continued hastily, “this conversation has the appearance of a trap. You’re the Administrator’s assistant, so naturally, my first assumption is that you’re here to spy for him.”
He paused to think for a moment.
“I’ll tell you one thing. If you really want to help, take another look at the ‘Heating and Cooling’ budget, specifically at how and when bills are sent, and to whom.”
He tossed back the rest of his martini before leaving the investigator to her meal.
“And tread lightly.”
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