The assassin peered at Baromir, standing with her arms crossed and taking a deep breath as she tried to gather up her strength.  "Sir, I will serve you, but let us make one thing clear."  She whispered, slowly running a hand up the side of her body, perhaps trying to show it off just a little.  "I am a freeblade, seeking a letter of marque.  I am a master of disguise, I know genetors on 12 systems who can completely rebuild my face, and I can lie my way out of the dungeons of the holy ordos.   As a simple matter, if you are too softhearted to kill me, then I can run.  This is a fact, and one you're going to have to accept."  She explained, standing up at her full height and making sure that Barmoir could see her serious posture and tone.<br/><br/>"So, if you're going to hire me, I'll accept on one condition.  Make sure that I die if I leave you."  She said, with a deep conviction.  "It doesn't matter how you do it.  Give me an explosive implant, infect me with a fatal disease, use a collar with a melta bomb built into it, replace my heart with a cybernetic implant...  But we can't trust each other unless my life is in your hands.  I'm no fanatic.  I'm a professional, and I have a job to do.  I got into this line of work because I don't care whether I live or die.  I still don't."  She said with the resignation of a true human, finally leaning against the wall to hear of Baromir's reaction.  "But call me Knives.  I like that."