[Some hours past the middle of the night, the datapad suddenly alights with sound-- clicking, hasty shuffling, and an abrupt BANG as if it were just dropped. The video feature switches on, focusing on a very detailed close up of the fabric of the apartment's cheap commercial carpet. Everything beyond is dark, lost in the blackness of night.]
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Nothing. It's-- [A harsh exhale of breath.] I don't know. Give me a second.
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[He nods.] Very well. If assistance is needed- [He can wait. Tensely, but it's waiting at least.]
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I don't think you can. Assist. Mordin's on his way, then we'll-- we'll know what's going on.
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...It's Shepard.
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I'm calm! [Nooooo he isn't.]
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[and he's there pretty quickly, busting in without announcing his presence like a boss] Here. What's going on? Keep it brief, if this is important, will need time to resolve.
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He is not even going to stop and ask how Mordin got through the lock on the front door. He motions to the bed instead, voice filled with worry.] Shepard won't wake up. [FIX IT, doctor.]
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This better be important or I'm caving your skull in, Vakarian.
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What happened?
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I don't know. Figuring that out.
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Garrus, what the hell is going on?
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