The Candidate: Recommendation (15/18)
anonymous
September 7 2011, 12:20:48 UTC
Nihlus stared at the mirror in the bathroom of his prefab for the longest time. He felt like years had passed since yesterday and he wanted to see if he looked any older. But he only looked tired. Tired, spent, hungover. The colors on his face were fading. He had some scratch marks on his neck, a little souvenir from Vakarian. It was good for what it was. Not quite good enough to replace the painful memory with a pleasant one, but he was grateful anyway.
He splashed his face and neck with cold water, changed his sweaty civies, and went to look for Saren. He didn’t fear the confrontation. He wouldn’t hide a thing: neither the scratch marks, nor the pain caused by something altogether different, and yet not different at all. There was only one wish, one plan he’d try to see through. He didn’t want to say goodbye like this. He didn’t want to say goodbye, period. But that - that was just wishful thinking.
Like last night, he found the door to Saren’s prefab open, and Saren was sitting at a terminal that he’d turned so as to face the entrance while working. Nihlus smiled a bit, though his heart sunk the moment he’d laid eyes on him, the merciless sound of flap-flap-flap-flap repeating itself ad nauseam in the back of his head. He took a deep breath that didn’t do much for him at all, and stepped inside.
Saren made no motion to express awareness of his presence, though he must have seen and heard him. Nihlus turned about, saw breakfast things on the table to his right, groceries that were surely not from Ganima. Saren probably brought a whole case of supplies along for his two-day stay. Saren didn’t like vat-grown food. Saren didn’t like a great many things.
“Help yourself,” he said, never lifting his gaze from the terminal. Nihlus considered it, but his stomach grumbled in rebellion.
“Maybe later,” he said. He was surprised to hear his voice coming out so calm and even. He walked over to the terminal but stopped at a respectable distance. “Are you looking over my report?”
“Yes. Vakarian and Helas. Is that your recommendation?”
“Garrus is the one. Lavena is second-best.” In all things imaginable.
Finally Saren looked at him. And Nihlus froze under the stare. Cold and loaded with malice. Some unfathomable emotion rippled over the steel features but it was not a wave so much as it was a shadow of a wave and Nihlus couldn’t catch the meaning before it was gone. But then Saren spoke in a tone of ultimate loathing that made everything clear.
He splashed his face and neck with cold water, changed his sweaty civies, and went to look for Saren. He didn’t fear the confrontation. He wouldn’t hide a thing: neither the scratch marks, nor the pain caused by something altogether different, and yet not different at all. There was only one wish, one plan he’d try to see through. He didn’t want to say goodbye like this. He didn’t want to say goodbye, period. But that - that was just wishful thinking.
Like last night, he found the door to Saren’s prefab open, and Saren was sitting at a terminal that he’d turned so as to face the entrance while working. Nihlus smiled a bit, though his heart sunk the moment he’d laid eyes on him, the merciless sound of flap-flap-flap-flap repeating itself ad nauseam in the back of his head. He took a deep breath that didn’t do much for him at all, and stepped inside.
Saren made no motion to express awareness of his presence, though he must have seen and heard him. Nihlus turned about, saw breakfast things on the table to his right, groceries that were surely not from Ganima. Saren probably brought a whole case of supplies along for his two-day stay. Saren didn’t like vat-grown food. Saren didn’t like a great many things.
“Help yourself,” he said, never lifting his gaze from the terminal. Nihlus considered it, but his stomach grumbled in rebellion.
“Maybe later,” he said. He was surprised to hear his voice coming out so calm and even. He walked over to the terminal but stopped at a respectable distance. “Are you looking over my report?”
“Yes. Vakarian and Helas. Is that your recommendation?”
“Garrus is the one. Lavena is second-best.” In all things imaginable.
Finally Saren looked at him. And Nihlus froze under the stare. Cold and loaded with malice. Some unfathomable emotion rippled over the steel features but it was not a wave so much as it was a shadow of a wave and Nihlus couldn’t catch the meaning before it was gone. But then Saren spoke in a tone of ultimate loathing that made everything clear.
“His smell is all over you.”
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<3
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