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Arranging a date with Kelly is even easier than you'd thought. One quick comm call, and she practically said yes before you could get the question out. How desperate, you think.
The toxin is somewhat more noisome to procure than Kelley's interest, but a quick trip to Citadel Souvenirs to buy a fish, and the precision blade in your kitchen drawer are enough to get you a small vial of the toxin before nightfall.
You place the "just-in-case" ceremonial pistol that your mother gave you 115 years ago under your gown before you leave. You aren't planning on needing it, but you're used to carrying it with you wherever you go. It's always been somewhat of what humans call "a security blanket."
As soon as the sun sets, you arrive at Kelley's apartment, and knock lightly against the door. She opens it so fast, you're sure she'd been waiting just on the other side for your arrival. You do your best to hide your rolling eyes.
She invites you in, and is quick to produce a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy. She pours two glasses and snuggles in close to you on the couch.
"What shall we toast to?" she asks, raising her glass.
You look past her to the computer terminal at the back of the room. That must be where she keeps the files.
"How about some music?" you ask coyly. "To help ... set the mood."
Kelley smiles, places her glass down on the table, and slinks off into the other room. You use the moment to drug her drink. Suddenly, music fills the space, and you quickly cap your bottle and palm it before Kelley reappears. She smiles at you and downs the contents of her glass. Perfect.
Within moments, you can see the effect of the toxin taking hold. Her head begins to wobble in wide circles. "I feel funny," she says drunkenly. "Do you feel funn--" Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. "I'll get it!" she yells, knocking into you as she stands. You drop the small vial of toxin to the carpet as she opens the door. It's the paparazzi. Great.
A spunky reporter stands in front of a tall cameraman with her omni-tool already held out toward you. "As the daughter of the Asari councilor, how do you feel about pursing an amorous relationship with a human whose been traditionally outspoken against the Asari's stance on--"
It's been a long time since a reporter was desperate enough for a story to follow you around. Of all the bad timing ...
The reporter pauses her question and looks at the floor. "Is that," she mutters, "Skald Fish Toxin?"
"What?" you say quickly. "No ... "
Kelley passes out on the floor in front of you. The reporter grabs the camera and points it at the floor, her eyes widening.
This story is going to harm you, your business, and your mother's career. Maybe even the Asari's good standing on the Citadel. Looks like your just-in-case pistol is about fire its first shot. Kill the reporter and her cameraman.