(no subject)
who ; Saren and Mordin
what ; With Hypatia being less than cooperative, Saren turns to an actual doctor for answers.
where ; Residential Zone 01; Medical Center
when ; Day after Mordin's Arrival
warning(s) ; Saren's agitation.
For such an insanely gargantuan station, it was eerily empty. At first, Saren thought that he was back on the Citadel, and that in his death, the afterlife had provided him with his blissful early days of being a Spectre. Receiving smiles and grins from his fellow Turians as he passed them, the salute from Executor Pallin and the rest of C-Sec, the admiration from Orinia... until the cold, hard reality hit him like a krogan's charge.
He could still see the blue lights under his skin. He could still feel the Reapers' nanides swimming in his blood vessels, the synthetic tissue interlaced with the neurons and synapses in his brain, both turian and machine; an abortion of nature, and yet, the greatest masterpiece conceivable of both flesh and steel.
Despite the terrifying revelation that Saren Arterius was, in fact, alive, he couldn't help but notice from day one, that he was utterly alone in his mind. Before, he could hear the voices of thousands all speaking at the same time, the loudest of which being Sovereign; praising him and congratulating him when he served their will, and punishing him with the most sadistic of phantom pain when he even considered disobeying them. The day that Commander Shepard had convinced him of how irrefutably wrong he was in thinking that Sovereign could be reasoned with was a day of reckoning for Saren, where the only possible way he could correct his mistakes was by taking his own life.
Too little, too late.
And here Saren lay, in a hospital bed. He had removed his envirosuit, clad only in a hospital gown he had taken from a locker. It was a crude design, obviously meant for humans, and both looked and felt awkward on the avian body of a turian. Underneath his silver skin, the telltale blue lights and patches of synthetic muscles and sinew were entirely visible. Saren had even taken the liberty of bringing in an EKG machine from the laboratory of the eerily quiet hospital, and had set everything up to the limit of a non-medical technician mind could perform. Both his armor, black casual outfit, and M6 Carnifex pistol were placed on the opposite side of the room. He didn't want to give the only person capable of giving him answers the impression that he was going to harm the salarian genius.
what ; With Hypatia being less than cooperative, Saren turns to an actual doctor for answers.
where ; Residential Zone 01; Medical Center
when ; Day after Mordin's Arrival
warning(s) ; Saren's agitation.
For such an insanely gargantuan station, it was eerily empty. At first, Saren thought that he was back on the Citadel, and that in his death, the afterlife had provided him with his blissful early days of being a Spectre. Receiving smiles and grins from his fellow Turians as he passed them, the salute from Executor Pallin and the rest of C-Sec, the admiration from Orinia... until the cold, hard reality hit him like a krogan's charge.
He could still see the blue lights under his skin. He could still feel the Reapers' nanides swimming in his blood vessels, the synthetic tissue interlaced with the neurons and synapses in his brain, both turian and machine; an abortion of nature, and yet, the greatest masterpiece conceivable of both flesh and steel.
Despite the terrifying revelation that Saren Arterius was, in fact, alive, he couldn't help but notice from day one, that he was utterly alone in his mind. Before, he could hear the voices of thousands all speaking at the same time, the loudest of which being Sovereign; praising him and congratulating him when he served their will, and punishing him with the most sadistic of phantom pain when he even considered disobeying them. The day that Commander Shepard had convinced him of how irrefutably wrong he was in thinking that Sovereign could be reasoned with was a day of reckoning for Saren, where the only possible way he could correct his mistakes was by taking his own life.
Too little, too late.
And here Saren lay, in a hospital bed. He had removed his envirosuit, clad only in a hospital gown he had taken from a locker. It was a crude design, obviously meant for humans, and both looked and felt awkward on the avian body of a turian. Underneath his silver skin, the telltale blue lights and patches of synthetic muscles and sinew were entirely visible. Saren had even taken the liberty of bringing in an EKG machine from the laboratory of the eerily quiet hospital, and had set everything up to the limit of a non-medical technician mind could perform. Both his armor, black casual outfit, and M6 Carnifex pistol were placed on the opposite side of the room. He didn't want to give the only person capable of giving him answers the impression that he was going to harm the salarian genius.