[Tayseri, Prometheus Plaza] The Interview

Titan's Citadel headquarters was an intimidating place. Not because of the building itself, which was fairly similar to the rest of the Citadel's skyscrapers, but because of what it represented. For the first time in over ten years, William Lanning had to attend a job interview. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was nervous. It had been over a year, and he hadn't managed well in freelancing the past year. His savings would only last so long, so William was determined to ace the interview.

Dressed in a freshly pressed rental suit, William walked into the main lobby of the Titan building. After explaining his appointment to the secretary, he was taken to a small waiting room. As was the habit of waiting areas, it was fairly drab, with a few seats and some lifeless muzak playing over a speaker. With nothing much else to do, William sat down on one of the chairs and opened up the extranet on his omni-tool while he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Eons passed as Lanning sat in that waiting room, listening to generic instrumental music piped in through hidden speakers. Mountains were ground to dust and rose again. Oceans became deserts, became lush forests, became oceans. Planets were formed from lumps of cooling stellar material, gave rise to life, gave rise to entire civilizations that went to war, that freed themselves from the confines of gravity and built vast, spacebound empires only to be subsumed by their enemies in turn.

Entire epics were written in the time Lanning sat in that room. Asari children became matriarchs in the time that Lanning sat in that room.

Lanning may have actually died in that room, he had no way of knowing.














...or, you know, just missed lunch.

In all practicality its the same thing.

A steady stream of men and women of all races entered and left the office. Some with pensive frowns, some with angry grimaces, and some who were this close to spiking their resumes and doing a victory lap around the waiting room. Until, finally, at long, long last.

"Lanning, William"?

At first, William had watched the people going in and out of the room with interest, and then with growing despair. If all of these presumably better qualified individuals couldn't get the job, then what hope did he have? All of the waiting was making him uncomfortable, as well. Possible scenarios chased each other around his mind as he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on his chair arm. When the fateful moment finally came, he jumped a little in surprise before standing.

"Yes?"

An asari in a smart pantsuit and holding a datapad beckoned him from an open doorway. There was a quick glance down just to confirm that, you know, it was actually Mr. Lanning, William, prospective VI engineer and not some random guy off the street.

Satisfied she activates smile a: polite and professional without being too warm or indulgent.

"We're ready to begin."

Nodding, William responded to the asari's smile with grimace B: Attempt at a thin smile tainted with anxiousness.

"Good to hear", he said as he followed her into the room.

It was...well.

A room. Walls colored a neutral, soothing, shade of blue; a table with two chairs. The asari was standing by one, hand formally extended.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Lanning. My name is Desa Valtani and I will be handling your interview today."

Right, so far so good. Just a polite (if decidedly bland) greeting.

William took his place by the opposite chair and accepted the hand.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Valtani."
He gave a curt handshake and sat down, resting his arms on the table.

For all her nondescript professionalism, Valtani had quite the grip on her. Whether that almost audible grinding had been his fingerbones or handbones in the alien's grip was still a matter of some debate.

There was a moment of silence (read: moment to recover) as the asari settled herself on the other side of the desk; a dataslate by her right hand, a laptop, it's haptic screen currently inactive, at her left. From where he sat Lanning could just barely glimpse the outline of the application form that he had submitted along with an image.

"So tell me Mr. Lanning. Why do you want to work for Titan?"

Well at least she was softballing it in.

So far.

If Valtani was expecting William to react to the handshake, she was going to be disappointed. The only indication of the excruciating pain was the opening and closing of his hand to get feeling back into it.

"From what I've read about your company, Titan has a sterling reputation and is doing very well financially. I feel that the work I'd do here would be more meaningful than anywhere else, and an effective use of my abilities."

(Not to mention having a steady paycheck would be nice right about now...)

"Mmmm."

That noncommittal noise gave off the distinct impression that the asari was perfectly aware of William's inner monologue. Hard not to be really, everyone was aware of the current economic state of the galaxy and he had marked down the T'Miara Shelter for the Displaced as his current address. Not that difficult to draw the obvious conclusion really.

"And what are your abilities Mr. Lanning?"

Now this Valtani knew, she had to. His resume and attached application, the papers that had seen him through (a seemingly endless number of) phone interviews and to this point, were right there. She knew. But this was less about hearing about what he had to say and more how William said it.

This was about selling himself.

William smiled slightly as he heard the question, and put on an air of confidence that he wished he felt.

"I've got over ten years of experience with designing advanced simulation VI's, mainly continuous simulation programs. In addition, I've got fairly extensive experience when it comes to designing or modifying VI's for drones and mechs. My main area of expertise in that regard is dynamic pathfinding, but I've also done a lot of work with combat adaptability and flexibility."

(That sounded a lot more impressive before I said it. Shit.)

His internal insecurities where unwarranted, at least just going off Valtani's reaction. She leaned forward and began tossing out questions, one after the other, enough time to grab a soundbyte, a morsel of fact and move on.

"Do you mind elaborating on the classes of mecha you've worked on. Primarily military or civilian as well? And what kind, something along the lines of, say, remote security orbs or heavy machinery or infantry units etc."

"Are there any projects in particular that you feel you accomplished something notable or are especially proud of?"

"What is your preferred approach with regards to the design and implementation of software capable of limited evolution and innovation?"

No time to think up some long, flowery answer this was all gut reaction, maybe a bit of careful wording if he was quick on his toes.

"Please expound, if you are able, on your work and the nature thereof with the Special Tasks Group."

Oh heyo.

Settling for clenching his fists slightly instead of counting them off on his fingers, William answered, "Mainly civilian, a couple military. I've worked with camera drones, surveillance drones, combat drones, bipedal security mechs, and a heavy."

"Successfully converting a cam-drone VI into a combat VI capable of advanced target prioritization."

"It's not evolution, but access to a large database of possible combat scenarios combined with a VI flexible enough to process them and implement them smoothly."

And...oh. Now that was an interesting question. William shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm...afraid there's not really anything I can tell you that wasn't covered in the Helena Mathioudakis report. QoroQ was a threat, and I was part of a team hired to eliminate it. That's about all I'm at liberty to say."

More uncomfortable shifting. He felt bad about the uninformative answer, but it was an STG operation.

"So you were involved in the QoroQ incident then?"

Fingers stilled on a haptic keyboard; she had been nodding along, "mhming" and "ahing" at all the appropriate places as she took down her notes until Lanning's not-answer answer pulled her eyes away from the screen.

"I don't suppose you have any means to prove all this do you?"

There were only three kinds of people who put "consulted for STG project" on a job application form. Idiots of the densest caliber, people who's balls were about the same size and consistency as iron weights, and the very, very desperate. It was time to find out which good old William was. Time to dig, to pick, to peel away the skin and see what lay beneath that suit and skin.

"Well, yes. It's not like it's a secret, I was in the report.

William was getting less and less comfortable with the way the interview was going. It seemed to have started so...well, not badly. Now he was just nervous and mildly confused.

Er, proof? You mean, besides the report? I mean, if you're doubting my identity, I've got ID on me, but I'm not really sure I understand why you'd need it..." Actually, he wasn't really sure of anything at this point. Did she think he was an impostor or something?

The nervous fidgets, meanwhile, had finally broken William's attempt at controlling them, and his fingers were happily drumming away on the side of his leg.

"Apologies, perhaps I should rephrase. You were directly involved in the QoroQ incident then?"

Blue lips bared teeth in a smile that was as professionally winning as it was absent any actual affection.

"I only ask Mr. Lanning because a few bylines in an official report that has almost certainly been extensively altered by a variety of intelligence agencies does not...well does not exactly make for an ironclad reference. And the term 'consultant' is rather...vague in its definition and the way you often see it applied."

And now there came the faint notes of regret mixed in with her words, the oh-so-sorry-too-bad-so-sad tone bleeding through her words. The inevitable precursor to the "thank you for your time Mr. Lanning, we'll be sure to give you a call".

The pure dismissiveness of her tone nearly set him off. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, but he caught himself before he went of on some rant. He didn't want to ruin what remained of his chances by letting anger get the better of him.

"Yes, I was directly involved in the QoroQ incident. I wish I had something more conclusive to give you, but breaking an STG NDA isn't something I'm particularly keen on. However, I fail to see how the STG would benefit from expanding my role in the operation."

Valtani matched Lanning's glare pound for pound, degree by degree. It was like their initial greeting and that vicelike grip. The asari was taking his measure. Applying pressure and seeing how much it took to make him buckle.

The moment of silence dragged on and on, tension stretched, pulled out to the very limits, cutting into nerves already rubbed raw.

And then...she smiled. Not with her mouth, not with any explicit movement; it was all in the eyes. A brief flicker of quiet approval and genuine warmth. It was there and gone in a moment but it was real, it had happened, it wasn't just in Williams's head.

She politely extended her hand once more.

"I believe that's all for the day Mr. Lanning. Thank you for your time, we'll be in contact."

Tone was everything.

William felt the anger drain out of him. He wasn't quite sure what he had seen, or even if he had seen it, but the tone of Valtani's voice was encouraging.

He took her hand again, somewhat warily this time, and shook. "Thank you, Ms. Valtani."

The area around the Titan building seemed more colorful as he left. The wards glimmered, the Earth shone, and he felt that maybe, just maybe, today was going better than he had expected.

It isn't until later, much much later, when Lanning was laying in whatever bunk or cot that he'd be sleeping on for the past God knew how long that his omnitool chimed.

Ping, you've got mail.


A brief cover letter, a few lines about looking forward to working with him, some indirect praise for his work at Synthetic Insights and since. All very nice, very pleasant; maybe not throwing roses at his feet but a far cry from "nice to meet you now get to work you fucker". And then below over a dozen links, pulsing gently in the haptic interface, all lined up in nice, neat columns.

Non-disclosure agreements. A form for company insurance. A form for company housing.

At the top, the very top, there was a contract. A bland document with words like Research and Development, Classified Projects, Field Work, and Military Applications. There was a number at the end, right above the line for his final signature.

Every single thing that Lanning had left in the world probably wasn't worth half that much

Just prick your finger and sign your name in scarlet and it could, it would be yours. It'll sting but don't worry the pain doesn't last.

The benefits package does.