Tarlon comes into the bar, muttering to himself and waving his hand around in a slightly distracted manner. There are various scratches and scrapes all over his face and clothing, but it looks like there are no real injuries.
#Miner'sRespite – March 6, 2014
Ilyna descends the staircase from the second floor, wearing her usual kind of dress. She spots a salarian that struck her as familiar, but she had some doubt. Pushing that doubt aside as she reaches the bottom, she approaches the salarian. "Tarlon?" she asked, sounding a little uncertain.
Ilyna tilts her head at first, but a smile creeps up as he confirms it. "You too," she says, though her expression fades for a moment before she asks, "Are you alright?"
Yes. Yes. Never been better. Should not collect data in the middle of a turf war, though. Most unhealthy.
Ilyna raises her brows, but nods. "Oh...," she says. "I can imagine that. What kind of data were you gathering, if I may ask?" She then holds her arms out for a hug, but tries not to overstep her boundaries... too much.
Oh, just... population data. Most unusual, people living on a doomed planet. Unique outlooks on life.
Ilyna hugs the salarian tightly, but lets go after thwree seconds as she could tell he wasn't too comfortable with it. "Oh, that's.... I'm sorry to hear," she says, "but is the world doomed? I admit I didn't do much more research than when booking a shuttle."
Well, not in the near future, but considering asari lifespans, would not recommend starting a family here.
Ilyna glances towards the bar. "I'm not planning to," she simply answers. "And okay, it wouldn't really make sense for you all to be here if... whatever it is happens tomorrow."
No, quite fond of living. Matter is quite irrelevant to a salarian, and only marginally more relevant to most races. Unstable lunar orbit will make itself felt eventually, but takes asari or krogan lifespan to live to see it. Hopefully. Hard to tell, with unstable things.
Ilyna nods. "I'm just here for a visit," she says. "And... well, I'm sorry I didn't contact you. Jason told me you were busy, so I didn't want to interrupt."
Oh, always busy. Life of a scientist, you know. But always open to more business. Contact away, anytime. Will reply unless being shot at. Hope you understand.
Ilyna chuckles. "I definitely understand," she says. "Last thing I'll do in a firefight is answering a message." She pauses, gesturing towards the bar counter. "I hope you've got time for a drink, then?"
Tarlon turns off his omni-tool and brushes at some of the signs of wear on his clothing in an attempt to look more presentable.
Ilyna turns towards the bar, smiling. "Great," she says. "I'm buying." She begins making her way towards the bar, walking slowly for the first second.
Ilyna reaches the bar after pondering the question, taking a seat while still facing the salarian. "I've been alright," she says. "I returned home to Thessia not too long after we last met... and I've been there until I gathered up the courage to contact Jason a month or so ago." She pauses before adding, "I think I've given up on my mercenary career for good, though."
Not certain I understand why it would take courage to speak to Jason, however, unless his jokes have gotten worse over time.
Ilyna can't help but laugh. "No, no, they're still as I remember them," she says. "I can't say I understand it either, but, well, you're talking to the same person who didn't talk to her father for f..." She frowns, trailing off as she don't really want to disclose an amount that exceeds his lifespan. "Too many years. I think I just get too embarrassed by not contacting him to contact him... does that make sense at all?"
Oh, yes. Very. Self-reinforcing cycle of guilt. There is an excellent treatise on the matter by Darennon. Fifteen volumes, I believe.
Ilyna raises a brow. "Fifteen?" she says. "There's really that much to write about it?" She glances towards the drink menu before realization covers her expression. "Oh, that reminds me... Jason told me you had written a book."
Oh, yes. Social dynamics in multi-species environments. Was time to put my research together and publish the results.
Ilyna nods. "Sounds like all of us... before we started to drift apart," she says. "I'd love to take a look at it, though, even if I may not understand everything in it."
Oh yes. Of course, anytime. looks rather flustered at her interest But it's really not all that interesting. Um. coughs Anyway. Um. What are you going to to then, if not willing to shoot things for a living?
Ilyna tilts her head at his reaction. After his question, she looks thoughtful for a few seconds. "Well, I have no idea, to be honest," she says. "I'm just preparing for university, so I... I'm just hoping I'll find out when the time comes to choose."
Ah, university! Do not pass up the chance, may not come again. Nothing more worthwhile than higher education. Will never get anywhere in academia without it.
Ilyna nods. "I won't," she says. "My mother promised to help me pay for it if I commited to it... which puts more weight on the choice." She signals a bartender before contiuing, "I've been in the military for most of my life, after all, it's what I know."
Well, nothing wrong with that. Lucky to have a chance at a university career after that, you know. Very lucky.
Ilyna | "I suppose I am," she says. "I wouldn't call it lucky to survive my military service, though. It was rather uneventful. But I'd say I am after my luck with mercenary jobs." She orders a glass of Serrice Ice as the bartender comes around before looking at the salarian expectantly.
Oh. Just some juice. Have not eaten in a while and have a low tolerance for drink. Would not end well.
Oh, yes. Of course. But never had a chance to study at a university. sighs Tragic loss, cannot really make up for it.
Ilyna pats the salarian's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she says, "but couldn't you still do that and have a career? You're still young, aren't you?" The bartender comes around to deliver their drinks, and Ilyna wraps her free hand around her glass, but it doesn't leave the counter.
Oh, well... am trying, of course. But no time to study, no. Simply doing research now. Not very young by salarian standards, I'm afraid.
Ilyna tilts her head slightly, sympathetically. She couldn't really understand that lifespan as it was in stark contrast to her own. "Oh. I hope you get the chance, then," she says. "But, well, other than that, how have you been since we last met?"
Oh, busy. Always busy. Very hard to get around on this planet, always in conflict. Even worse than collecting data on Omega. But still alive, so cannot complain.
Ilyna frowns. "I haven't been outside this town," she says, "so I'll take your word for it, but is it really worse than Omega?" She picks up her drink and takes a long sip of it.
Tarlon takes a sniff at his drink and then downs a large gulp, clearly thirsty. He scratches at the scab on his head again.
Ilyna nods. "Yeah, I always expected trouble on Omega," she says. "This planet feels safe, but well, so does Illium...." She frowns, looking at him with concern clear as day in her expression. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Ilyna frowns. "Alright," she says. "Is that from what you talked about earlier, the people not appreciating your research?"
Oh yes. No proper sense for science. Not very fond of curious strangers. Did even explain about my work, but to no effect. sniffs Doubt they'd had a proper education.
Ilyna | "Maybe they thought it was just a rehersed excuse?" she suggests, trying to see both sides despite her sympathy for the salarian.
Oh, not understanding at all. Even tried to confiscate my research notes! sniffs As though they'd understand a word of it.
Ilyna sighs, not sure what to say about this. "Oh... I take it you got away with your notes?" she says. "Why did you go there to study, if I may ask?"
Tarlon takes another deep gulp from his drink. "Oh, well. People. You know. Inhabitants. Their environment, reactions, things like that."
Ilyna raises an eyebrow. "But... couldn't you study people in a stable region?" she asks before taking another sip of her drink, her tone curious.
Ilyna nods, again. "Oh," she says. "That doesn't sound like a very healthy line of work, either, then, but it seems more exciting than I'd imagine that field of science." She chuckles slightly, sipping her drink. "Oh, speaking of that, I don't think you told me where I could find your book?"
Oh, can.. um. Send you a copy. Electronic files, very neat. taps away on his Omni-tool for a moment, initiating a data transfer
Ilyna can't help but chuckle as she enables her omni-tool to accept the transfer. "Thank you," she says with a smile. "And no, I wasn't thinking about it. I've been putting off this decision for about a year now."
Oh, better decide. Rather important. Not something you want to have to make a decision on at the last moment. Must have some preferences, yes?
Ilyna nods. "I know," she says with a sigh. "I'm just afraid to make a bad decision that I will regret a few years later." She takes a long sip of her drink. "My preferences... I don't know. I'm too used to being in the military, even if I would rather be a mercenary than return there."
Well... can always choose military theory, become a tactician, yes? Recommend exchange year on Palaven.
Ilyna hums thoughtfully. "I appreciate the idea, and it sounds interesting, but," she begins. "I didn't leave the military unit I served in on good terms, ...or with a proper resignation."
Well, not entirely relevant, yes? If subject is interesting to you, should study it. Military record unlikely to be considered in academic applications.
Ilyna nods. "Yeah, you're probably right," she says, "but what about the practical job that I would be studying for... that will be working for the military, right?"
Likely. Other possible lines of work, of course, but better to have a variety of options. not possible to work for the military, then?
Ilyna | "I don't think so," she says with a frown. "I suppose I'm lucky enough for not being charged with desertion." She sips her drink. "The day I first met you on Omega, I was supposed to be back from leave."
Ilyna shakes her head. "I contacted a friend back there just before heading out with ExoGeni," she says. "They decided against charging me for it, but the decision was just made when I returned from that job."
Ilyna nods. "Looking back, it was a stupid way to go about it," she says, "but I don't regret leaving the military, even considering all the bad mercenary jobs I've had since."
Well, cannot always be wise. Always know better in hindsight. But got you a place at university, so would not complain, worked out rather well in the end.
Ilyna | "Of course," she says. "It was a valuable year, though, despite everything bad I went through." She pauses, a small smile forming. "And I met you all."
Ilyna chuckles. "Oh?" she says. "Am I going to recognize myself in some part of your book now?" Her tone made it clear enough that she was joking.
Unlikely, is not a work in progress. Besides, individuals are never recognizable in statistics, would rather defeat the point.
Ilyna nods. "I suppose that makes sense," she says, "but it would be kind of fun to find that, right?" She takes a long sip of her drink. "Anyway, how was the book received, if I may ask? By... others in the field, I mean."
Oh, quite well. Some skepticism about scientific works by someone without a degree, of course, but anyone in the field can see the value of the data I collected, and it has been referenced in some essays.
Ilyna smiles. "That's good to hear," she says, but her omni-tool interrupts her before she can continue, and the interface come to life. "Oh, already?" she mutters to herself before letting the interface dissipate. "i've got to get back to my room," she says. "It's been great seeing you again, Tarlon." Ilyna sets the glass down on the counter and holds her arms out for another hug.
Ilyna nods. "I will," she says before letting go of the hug, still smiling. "And you stay safe out here." She picks up and drinks the remainder of her drink.
Ilyna places the empty glass on the counter. "I'll see you again," she says with a small smile before walking towards the staircase, tapping on her omni-tool as she ascends it.
Tarlon hums a little tune to himself, then absentmindedly scratches his scrapes, shoots his almost-empty glass a critical look, and drains it.