"Oh, Darling. There you are, I was beginning to believe you wouldn't show." The tall Turian woman sat in a booth at afterlife. She had a bottle of grade A turian brandy sitting on the table along with another drink, one that you may like from your past conversation with her over messages. She holds a glass in her hand swirling the contents. Lifting the glass to her jaw, mandibles twitch slightly before she takes a drink. Krinn is eyeing you up and down. Her free hand beacons you over to her, he...