[There was no use in being stubborn at the moment. Besides, Thane always preferred the quieter approach to rebellion. Instead of standing up and attempting to leave he sat at the designated table with his hands folded neatly atop the surface, gaze momentarily darting about to survey his surroundings. He had taken a look at the cue cards, of course, finding them a bit droll. Did humans really sit at a table with strangers and pick uninspired questions from a list to ask one another? In a short, allotted time frame, no less? It seems counter productive to him. People get nervous, stumble over their words, sit in awkward silence — what was to be accomplished in doing this?
Perhaps he could use this opportunity to gather information. Even if said information was just a tidbit or two about whomever ends up sitting across from him. Either way, they will be greeted with a smile and a nod from this alien man.]
TANSTAAFL
[One had to make a living, he supposes. And here he thought death would be enough of a reason to retire.
Thane's skills were very specific indeed. Assassins were always needed. Sought after, rather. There was always someone who wanted another dead but didn't want to get their hands dirty to do the deed themselves. But that life is — or should be — well behind him by now.
He tries to plug in the skills that would lead him more towards construction and other forms of menial labor. Back when he fell for Irikah and requested for his handler to allow himself to be free from his Compact, to be allowed to make his own choices as the Enkindlers intended for the Hanar, he made his living for his new family by doing just that. Of course, civilian life had proved difficult for him.
Now had to be different, even with his future so nebulous.
Finally, the machine provides an answer.
Security. Ah, there's a certain irony in that, isn't there?]
I am nothing if not secure. [He muses to himself.]
Thane Krios | Mass Effect | ota
[There was no use in being stubborn at the moment. Besides, Thane always preferred the quieter approach to rebellion. Instead of standing up and attempting to leave he sat at the designated table with his hands folded neatly atop the surface, gaze momentarily darting about to survey his surroundings. He had taken a look at the cue cards, of course, finding them a bit droll. Did humans really sit at a table with strangers and pick uninspired questions from a list to ask one another? In a short, allotted time frame, no less? It seems counter productive to him. People get nervous, stumble over their words, sit in awkward silence — what was to be accomplished in doing this?
Perhaps he could use this opportunity to gather information. Even if said information was just a tidbit or two about whomever ends up sitting across from him. Either way, they will be greeted with a smile and a nod from this alien man.]
TANSTAAFL
[One had to make a living, he supposes. And here he thought death would be enough of a reason to retire.
Thane's skills were very specific indeed. Assassins were always needed. Sought after, rather. There was always someone who wanted another dead but didn't want to get their hands dirty to do the deed themselves. But that life is — or should be — well behind him by now.
He tries to plug in the skills that would lead him more towards construction and other forms of menial labor. Back when he fell for Irikah and requested for his handler to allow himself to be free from his Compact, to be allowed to make his own choices as the Enkindlers intended for the Hanar, he made his living for his new family by doing just that. Of course, civilian life had proved difficult for him.
Now had to be different, even with his future so nebulous.
Finally, the machine provides an answer.
Security. Ah, there's a certain irony in that, isn't there?]
I am nothing if not secure. [He muses to himself.]