This was a friendly enough place without any pretence, the clientele was by the looks of them off-duty soldiers and C-sec, and the drinks were passable enough. It was by his reckoning a good place to unwind after their last mission.
Saren was as resistant to any attempts at friendly conversation as ever, but he was used to that by now, and the Spectre's silences didn't bother him much anymore. He surveyed the other customers, and a pair of asari in dress uniform at the bar momentarily caught his attention. One of them looked up unhurriedly, met his gaze and gave him a quick once-over.
Nihlus knew that he was quite handsome by his own species' standards, and while he wasn't vain about it, he had deliberately used that fact as yet another edge in his fight for survival early in life with the same ruthlessness that he'd applied to anything else he'd done then. Life in the military had, paradoxically, toned down that ruthlessness a bit, since there was no need for it anymore, but the fact remained that he rarely lacked for some temporary companionship if he was in the mood to enjoy himself in that way. Something about his colouration and his attitude apparently made him quite attractive to some aliens as well, and he was well used to that, too. He quite approved of inter-species relations on that level. This, at least, was one aspect of his life his Spectre training hadn't managed to expand upon much. He'd always been the adventurous sort, to try everything at least once. The asari inclined her head very slightly, a subtle invitation to approach if he chose to.
Nihlus contemplated the option, then looked at Saren as the Spectre gave a half exasperated, half amused snort. Saren had never commented about Nihlus' off-duty activities one way or another, which just meant that in this regard, at least, he was a good turian who ignored another one's private life as long as it didn't interfere with anyone's duties. Odds were, of course, that he wasn't being polite but simply completely disinterested. Therefore, that unexpected show of judgement came as a surprise. "What?"
"Those two are elite commandos. I hope you know what you're getting into if you decide to follow up on that."
Truth be told, he didn't know much about that specialisation, but he'd met enough asari military in the past and he prided himself on being quite familiar with the species, so he wasn't worried in the least. Nihlus laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I can take care of myself." He considered the pale-faced turian, who held a carefully polite but still doubtful expression, then decided he couldn't resist trying to get a raise out of his superior. "No need for you to feel left out, though. I'm sure I can invite one of them over for you."
He half expected a sharp comment or another, more direct reprimand at this dig, but Saren just shook his head in a distantly amused manner.
"I sometimes despair of you ever learning to think before you speak. Sadly, it would appear your speech will always be as blunt as your claws. Or were you intentionally trying to insult me by implying that I'm incapable of finding some company on my own or approaching anyone I take an interest in?"
Nihlus blinked. He'd never considered it before, but he realised that he had never actually seen Saren seeking anybody's company, not even just for some temporary stress relief. Of course, it just might be that he was just very discreet about it, but why he would do that was beyond Nihlus' imagination either. There was no shame in any of that, after all. He sighed. "No, I hadn't meant it like that. It was meant as a joke. Should have known better, you have no sense of humour whatsoever."
"Apparently." Saren replied, his tone dry.
"Well, that was only to be expected given your background, I suppose. Being born on Hierarchy worlds cripples your sense of humour early on. At least that's the best explanation I've found for it. And about my so-called blunt speech, you will certainly have noticed by now that not every turian has had the benefits of a high-class education from early on in their lives."
Saren had grown oddly still, and Nihlus threw him a confused look. A sharp retort would have been more in character now, but he just received a rather thoughtful look, as if Saren was weighting options and then came to a decision.
"That explanation of yours is based on an incorrect assumption." Saren said slowly. "You probably have read my personnel file, or at least as much as you have access to. I doubt it gives a planet of origin for me in there, nor much information about my personal background before I joined the military."
Nihlus tossed his head back, irritated. "Of course I have, and of course it doesn't. Most of that info is redacted, but it implies-"
Saren suddenly growled, interrupting him. "Implies." His pronunciation of the word was almost contemptuous. "You really, really should know better by now than to trust into anything that's written down in anyone's file or records." There was a clearly angry flash in his eyes now, and Nihlus felt a twinge of uneasiness.
"If you learn nothing else from me, at least learn this. Use your observation, your training, your mind and your instincts to tell what's true and what isn't. Continue to rely on appearances and written or spoken accounts, and it will get you killed if you continue in this profession."
His hand suddenly shot out, grabbing Nihlus' uniform at his collar and yanking him closer.
Nihlus was almost shocked by the suddenness of that. That wasn't part of Saren's normal behaviour.
His first reflex would have been to break the Spectre's grip, but something held him back. This wasn't an attack.
Strange light blue eyes held his, and Saren's voice was low and almost angry. "Use that mind of yours, and your eyes."
This was creepy, all of this was. Saren looked disturbing enough even from a distance with that odd colouration of his, and that rather uncommon fringe. Up close, disturbing became spooky, and these too-bright eyes hid a mind that was too sharp and too strange to have been formed by the Hierarchy's strict discipline from the beginning.
No markings. A much less social attitude then common in Hierarchy turians. A fighting style that was a strange mix of the formal techniques taught in the military and the dirty but effective tricks that mercenaries like those Nihlus had grown up among used. A cold willingness to do his duty, but always in the way he considered right. It didn't fit.
"You don't come from a Hierarchy world." Nihlus said.
Saren growled faintly, but seemed to be waiting.
A background similar to his, maybe, but not the same. Something with even less structure than he had, something different.
"No independent colony either. Spaceborn." he said, before he could think better, then winced, already bracing for a blow. In Hierarchy space, this was a severe insult, the implication that any individual named thus had no loyalty to any place or group whatsoever. He should have worded it better, at least.
He already knew how Saren reacted to insults.
Instead he was released with an almost careless push, then Saren nodded, satisfied. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it? Your instincts and your mind do work. That's a relief."
Nihlus blinked. He'd expected fury and maybe a slap to the head, not amusement. "You mean that's true? But your file-"
Saren waved a hand, impatient. "Files can be changed. Many times, in fact, and by different persons for different reasons. As for mine, the overall facts are mostly correct. The details probably are not. Once you start to distinguish yourself in service, the mere implication that you're however distantly related to one clan or another will be more than enough to make it an accepted fact. People always see what they want to see and are quite good at finding or making up other facts they twist to support their view. It's up to you whether you use that to your advantage or not. Probably someone will at some point turn up some record or another thought lost since the last civil war, and you'll suddenly find yourself having claim to some other name than the one you carry now. Somehow the best and most distinguished always end up connected to some major clan, and if necessary, history can and will be rewritten. Remember that and don't trust in written accounts so much." He seemed almost thoughtful. "You still seem to regard your lack of formal Hierarchy education a disadvantage, and I assume you have been told just as much by teachers and peers alike during your time at military academy and later. Repetition doesn't make a statement true, though. You grew up in an environment that kept your mind free of that imprint that our society imposes on its members for the common good. You're free to define by yourself what you are and what you're going to be. Once you can make yourself really see the truth of that, you'll find your path a much easier one."
"Speaking from personal experience there?" Nihlus asked, and damn if Saren wasn't right and he really was talking before he thought better of it, but he wasn't about to apologise either. He knew he was being defensive, because this was getting personal in a way that Saren had no business at all calling him out on, and he resented that in a instinctive way. It didn't occur to him until after a few seconds that Saren's behaviour was extremely off. He was indeed talking from personal experience, whether he admitted it or not, and without any condescension. He seemed to care enough to make a point here, and Nihlus didn't quite understand why.
Saren uncharacteristically refused to be insulted. "Partially, but probably less than you think. A sense of inadequacy concerning one's background is your problem, not mine, and never has been. It's groundless, anyway. It's just a personal observation, of course, but while the Hierarchy worlds produce excellent soldiers, most turian Spectres seem to have a less regular background. It would stand to reason. Independent thinking isn't exactly an encouraged quality in our society, as you very well know, and it's an absolute requirement for a Spectre. Where we come from doesn't matter. We aren't good soldiers who obey orders blindly, we're the ones who do whatever's necessary to get the results needed by the Council." He shrugged.
"Is that why you suggested me for Spectre candidacy? Because of a similarity in background?"
Saren growled again, and from the set of his shoulders Nihlus could tell he was losing his patience with the topic. "No. The reason is the one I told you at the beginning, that I thought you had some qualities that would make a good Spectre and that you could learn. Nothing else. And there's less similarity between us than you might think, background or otherwise."
The last part held an unmistakable warning, but Nihlus had never heeded those before.
"That's a relief to hear." he quipped, and to his surprise, the Spectre flared his mandibles in a wry grin.
"I couldn't agree more." He got up, throwing Nihlus a wry look. "I'll leave you to your amusements, then. You will probably do some things you will regret later, and it's almost certain that you will get into some sort of trouble. Try not to involve me, though. Whatever you get into, I don't want to hear about it." With that, he left.
Nihlus stared after him, wondering whether he had to amend his previous assessment of Saren's sense of humour, or lack thereof. He was still somewhat stunned by Saren's matter-of-fact reaction to basically being called a homeless, clan-less outcast.
"Hello there." He looked up, finding that the asari had made her way over to his table. "So, has your friend deserted you for the evening?"
"He's not my friend." Nihlus replied, not allowing himself to pursue that train of thought further. "Just my superior." He twitched his mandibles, showing a flash of fangs in a quick smile as he regarded her appraisingly. "But I seem to find myself suddenly and unexpectedly alone, so your company is very welcome."
The asari laughed and took a seat at his table, and behind her, her companion approached as well, her steps and expression almost predatory.
Nihlus grinned and dismissed the uncomfortable subject of Saren and his strange games from his mind for something hopefully much more pleasant.