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[Niko has had a little bit of a confusing week. He didn't expect to be asked along on a diplomatic mission; usually not anything he's good at (in his mind). But he came along, figuring he was there as bodyguard more than anything else.]

[But now he's returned, and he wants to check in.]

Hey, ah.... So I just got back. I had to go with Thán for a mission and now he has a new boyfriend for peace purposes I guess. I am not really sure what happened there. Sort of like an arranged marriage? [He's actually kind of suspicious of this whole-matchmaking thing now. He's always disliked match-making on some level, but there is something deeply unsettling about it here. Just how mandatory and committing it seems.]

[He doesn't hate the match he was given, not at all. But he knows there might be people they're even better suited to.]

Look, I am a little nervous about this big business here. Capitalism is shit, government is shit, and is bad enough when taking advantage of lonely people. But I think we are going to have to be sure to be good to the new guy because we saw what happened the last time we fucked up diplomacy.

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Hm. That's one way of looking at it. Not a bad way, really. [Ratchet pauses, curiosity pushing a question forward, although he's uncertain if he should ask it.]

Niko... [He hesitates.] What did you do before you came here?

[It's not a loaded question. Niko's comments, on top of of others he's made in the past, have made Ratchet realise he doesn't know much about him, and that clearly, there's a lot to know.]

Do you really want to know?

[He asks, knowing Ratchet is not a fan of certain behaviors. And despite what Ratchet has read publicly, maybe he wouldn't actually want to hear about it.]

Yes. Of course.

[It does give him pause though, but at this point, he'd rather know then not know.]

[Well. He might as well be honest.]

I was a nobody.

I was born a shitty farmboy on a shitty farm in the middle of a tiny village. Then I grew up in a war with a bunch of other farmboys who became shitty soldiers with me, because all the men died. Or they were useless, abusive drunks as my father. I watched them all shot down on a hillside. Out of fifteen, only three survived, the two of us that ran, and the third that betrayed us.

Then there was no one to protect the village. I learned to kill, but I could not kill an army then. The enemy came to our town, murdered my aunt in her home, invaded my mothers farm and use it to sell arms and crack. My uncle, my father, don't even die in battle. They are killed by their own drinking.

But me, I am a nobody, and after the war there are no jobs. So I work for people who know I can use a gun, who know I can survive. I survive fight after fight. I survive boats sinking and bombs blowing up. I smuggle. I steal. I am an assassin. First small time people, then important ones. Because as a grown man, I can take down an entire army, the protection for even the most important people. And I do it all so that my family does not have to hurt for money. I have fought for my whole life.

I kill government officials, crime bosses, senators, spies, lawyers and activists. I kill good people and bad people because I don't know who the fuck these people are, if they are truly good. I just know the people I need to protect are. I never become more important. I am still the yokel, the peasant, the 'dumb immigrant fuck' they ask to do these things. I can kill fifty guards set to protect a target indiscriminately. Apparently I can even kill a planet for those few good people. Even my name means nobody. So, that is what I was, and that is what I am.

I was also a cab driver. Happy end to story.

Niko...

[There's a long pause. Ratchet's not sure what to say. He's not sure what to feel about any of that.]

Niko. Shit.

Don't seem so surprised. Here, there are plenty of people that are hired to kill, or have killed many. [Including Ratchet.]

But I guess it bothers people a little different. Some people do not give a fuck. Some do. Me, after the shit my country and my bosses pulled, after things America itself has asked me to do, I can say with good impression that I do not like this kind of system.

Yeah. I....I guess I'm not surprised. [That sounds bad, but he's sure Niko gets his meaning.]

It's just...hearing it all laid out like that. It doesn't change anything, but. I dunno. It sucks. There's so much of this crap.

[He rubs the side of his face, makes a frustrated noise, that goes well with how articulate he's feeling.]

It doesn't even bother me that much anymore. Not like it should.

You are a good person.

But that is the thing that lets you know you are still capable of being one. I actually don't mind some of this stuff so much anymore. It's just shit that happens. You do what you must do.

But it still bothers you that it doesn't bother you. That's how my head has been for a very long time. You still have some principles, some integrity.

Hah, well. I'll count that as a good thing as soon as I've got proof my home galaxy isn't just a stretch of cosmic dust in someone's else's telescope.

Until then I'm not sure principles or integrity or being a good person really counts for much.

[Not entirely true, but it's hard not to be a little cynical when you all end up in the same boat anyway....so to speak.]

[Which is how he often feels. Anything he's done- in the long run, he doesn't amount to anything good. He's not near a good person at all.]

We just did a very good job at making ourselves feel terrible. I would be proud if I did not feel so bad.

[Ratchet laughs, a little bit wistfully, unable to keep that bitter edge out.]

Yeah. Guess we did.