11-25-2017, 10:00 PM
Mordin had seen a lot of the Empire Research and Development over the last week, but this area that Jor was guiding him too was a new one for him. The security presence was still there, but the overall feel of the eastern second floor was much more downtrodden then the rest of the building. The quarters he had been living and working in felt like they were straight out of some strange science fiction novel, but this place felt more like a prison. The light blue paint was dried out and peeling, making it look more like a musty grey. The doors were all traditional style, with doorknobs rather then automatically opening from the bottom up. Mordin didn't usually go into a situation looking for a fight, but he was ready for one in this case.
A security guard stood in a narrow passage towards where Jor was taking Mordin. Mordin expected to be stopped, but instead both Jor and the guard exchanged a knowing nod. "This way," the big man told the scientist.
"Where are we?" Dr. Solus asked as they passed through the corridor and stood outside of a single door at the end of it. The sign read 'Prime Studies Lab A.'
"Where do you think?" Jor asked back. It didn't seem like he was trying to be rude, but rather actually wanted Mordin to figure it out himself.
"Hm," Mordin began to look around. "Less security here. Maintenance neglected. Still staffed with guards but no actual scientists. Used to be a lab for something. To study Primes." He paused, and looked at Jor. "But no longer. Now used to keep something important hidden. Something not worth studying. Still worth guarding." Jor nodded his bald head. He seemed to be both annoyed by the drawn-out style Mordin would take to figure something out, but also impressed by how quick he seemed to puzzle things together. Mordin had that effect on people, in general. Nobody could understand what he was saying, until he had finished speaking. Then it all came together, somehow.
Jor turned and opened the door to the room they were standing in front of. Mordin followed him in.
Inside, it looked more like an operating room then an actual laboratory. There were still some metal tables along the wall and a tall filing cabinet in the corner. The room was well lit by the lights up on the ceiling, but it still gave Mordin a creepy vibe as one of them flickered a bit. In the center of the room was a long metallic table with someone laying on it, propped up slightly by the adjustable bend in the table. The figure was as tall and bulky as Jor was, but curves at their chest and mid-section made it very clear that it was a female. Unlike Jor, who had no hair atop his horned head, this figure had long blonde hair bundled around her cranium and neck. Like Jor, she also spotted small bumpy horns. Even though this figure was clearly not conscience, Mordin noted that she was not hooked up to any machines, which made him think the worst.
Mordin's first reaction was check her pulse. She was alive. "Not conscience," Mordin noted. "But not being kept alive by technology. Poison? Overdose of drugs? Forcibly-induced coma?"
"That one," Jor said. He moved to the opposite side of the table Mordin was standing. "She is in a medically-induced coma. They only hook her up when they need to check her vitals or feed her. It keeps her off the system."
"Humanoid, female," Mordin spoke aloud as he examined the woman. "Muscular. Blonde hair. Horns suggest same race as you. Same facial structure. Related in some way. Sister?" Jor nodded at his question. "Twin?" Again, Jor nodded. "Question, then. What is her name?"
"Kior."
"What race are you? Never met a human with horns."
"Zabrak," Jor said. Mordin immediately was unsure why he even asked that question. He had no idea what a Zabrak was. He made a mental note later to look it up. It sounded interesting.
Mordin looked along her arm to note the entrance markings of needles. There was no question that she had been injected with something, multiple times at multiple places. "Why is she like this?" Mordin finally asked the most important question. "Why are you showing me this?"
Jor looked down at his sister. Previously, the only thing that Mordin could see in the eyes of the spikey-headed Zabrak was anger and emotion. He could see now that there was a lot more to this big guy then he had let on. Mordin cursed himself a bit that he was so quick to judge this man, whose ulterior motive was strictly the care for his sister. "Kior is a scientist. She is everything that I am not. She is smart, selfless and brave. She would use her research to make Coruscant a better place. The entire Omniverse benefited from the trials she would do to best the abilities and limitations of Primes." He paused, long enough for Mordin's big lidless eyes to bulge wide in realization. "That's why they chose her, among all others, to be the Director of Prime Studies."
"Your sister is the Director of Prime Studies?" Mordin asked, incredulous.
"She was," Jor nodded. "Until she was disposed of by the Board of Directors by her aide. Her work was stolen and she was voted off of the Directors' Board in a hostile takeover. She wasn't even given the right to appeal to the Emperor before she was put here. Locked away."
Mordin looked down at the woman who lay prone, unconscious. It was hard to believe that this bulky, muscled woman could be the former director to a research institution, but Mordin had already learned his lesson about judging books by their covers. Jor was proof of that. "You are working here for her," he assumed. "Waiting to take her. Or working to keep her alive. Insurance policy. Blackmail." Jor nodded. "Unethical! Detestable! Absurd! This breaks every scientific law ever written!"
As the good doctor raised his hand, one of his three fingers sticking in the air, the lights began to flicker again. This time, all of the ceiling lights switched off and on three times before shutting off all together. Then the emergency lights, dimmed crimson, turned on above them. Mordin knew immediately that someone was messing with the power.
"The aide." Mordin said to Jor, who was tense at the sudden lighting change. "I know who it is. Don't I?"
A gas began to leak from the vents situated near the corners of the wall, where bulkhead met floor. "Yes," Jor said. "Dr. Illyana Ivanov did this."
Mordin's fingers squeezed the railing of the operating table that Kior was laying on, sleeping helplessly through the conversation. The gas began hit Mordin's senses and began to disorient him immediately. It was strong stuff, making him dizzy instantly. He was sure that if he had been a secondary, he would be dead already. With his Salarian immune system, he felt lucky that he didn't drop dead anyway. He watched as Jor stumbled to his knees, under the same effect.
Whoever realized they were there, in that room, had gassed them. The Salarian Scientist was certain, in the last moment, that they would not kill him. They still needed him alive to experiment on. They would still assume he was easy to control, even if they had to be rough. But that was there were all of Mordin Solus' past enemies had gone wrong, and that was where these would too. He was used to being underestimated.
As he dropped to the ground sideways, asleep and drugged, he vowed to himself that they would never see him coming.
A security guard stood in a narrow passage towards where Jor was taking Mordin. Mordin expected to be stopped, but instead both Jor and the guard exchanged a knowing nod. "This way," the big man told the scientist.
"Where are we?" Dr. Solus asked as they passed through the corridor and stood outside of a single door at the end of it. The sign read 'Prime Studies Lab A.'
"Where do you think?" Jor asked back. It didn't seem like he was trying to be rude, but rather actually wanted Mordin to figure it out himself.
"Hm," Mordin began to look around. "Less security here. Maintenance neglected. Still staffed with guards but no actual scientists. Used to be a lab for something. To study Primes." He paused, and looked at Jor. "But no longer. Now used to keep something important hidden. Something not worth studying. Still worth guarding." Jor nodded his bald head. He seemed to be both annoyed by the drawn-out style Mordin would take to figure something out, but also impressed by how quick he seemed to puzzle things together. Mordin had that effect on people, in general. Nobody could understand what he was saying, until he had finished speaking. Then it all came together, somehow.
Jor turned and opened the door to the room they were standing in front of. Mordin followed him in.
Inside, it looked more like an operating room then an actual laboratory. There were still some metal tables along the wall and a tall filing cabinet in the corner. The room was well lit by the lights up on the ceiling, but it still gave Mordin a creepy vibe as one of them flickered a bit. In the center of the room was a long metallic table with someone laying on it, propped up slightly by the adjustable bend in the table. The figure was as tall and bulky as Jor was, but curves at their chest and mid-section made it very clear that it was a female. Unlike Jor, who had no hair atop his horned head, this figure had long blonde hair bundled around her cranium and neck. Like Jor, she also spotted small bumpy horns. Even though this figure was clearly not conscience, Mordin noted that she was not hooked up to any machines, which made him think the worst.
Mordin's first reaction was check her pulse. She was alive. "Not conscience," Mordin noted. "But not being kept alive by technology. Poison? Overdose of drugs? Forcibly-induced coma?"
"That one," Jor said. He moved to the opposite side of the table Mordin was standing. "She is in a medically-induced coma. They only hook her up when they need to check her vitals or feed her. It keeps her off the system."
"Humanoid, female," Mordin spoke aloud as he examined the woman. "Muscular. Blonde hair. Horns suggest same race as you. Same facial structure. Related in some way. Sister?" Jor nodded at his question. "Twin?" Again, Jor nodded. "Question, then. What is her name?"
"Kior."
"What race are you? Never met a human with horns."
"Zabrak," Jor said. Mordin immediately was unsure why he even asked that question. He had no idea what a Zabrak was. He made a mental note later to look it up. It sounded interesting.
Mordin looked along her arm to note the entrance markings of needles. There was no question that she had been injected with something, multiple times at multiple places. "Why is she like this?" Mordin finally asked the most important question. "Why are you showing me this?"
Jor looked down at his sister. Previously, the only thing that Mordin could see in the eyes of the spikey-headed Zabrak was anger and emotion. He could see now that there was a lot more to this big guy then he had let on. Mordin cursed himself a bit that he was so quick to judge this man, whose ulterior motive was strictly the care for his sister. "Kior is a scientist. She is everything that I am not. She is smart, selfless and brave. She would use her research to make Coruscant a better place. The entire Omniverse benefited from the trials she would do to best the abilities and limitations of Primes." He paused, long enough for Mordin's big lidless eyes to bulge wide in realization. "That's why they chose her, among all others, to be the Director of Prime Studies."
"Your sister is the Director of Prime Studies?" Mordin asked, incredulous.
"She was," Jor nodded. "Until she was disposed of by the Board of Directors by her aide. Her work was stolen and she was voted off of the Directors' Board in a hostile takeover. She wasn't even given the right to appeal to the Emperor before she was put here. Locked away."
Mordin looked down at the woman who lay prone, unconscious. It was hard to believe that this bulky, muscled woman could be the former director to a research institution, but Mordin had already learned his lesson about judging books by their covers. Jor was proof of that. "You are working here for her," he assumed. "Waiting to take her. Or working to keep her alive. Insurance policy. Blackmail." Jor nodded. "Unethical! Detestable! Absurd! This breaks every scientific law ever written!"
As the good doctor raised his hand, one of his three fingers sticking in the air, the lights began to flicker again. This time, all of the ceiling lights switched off and on three times before shutting off all together. Then the emergency lights, dimmed crimson, turned on above them. Mordin knew immediately that someone was messing with the power.
"The aide." Mordin said to Jor, who was tense at the sudden lighting change. "I know who it is. Don't I?"
A gas began to leak from the vents situated near the corners of the wall, where bulkhead met floor. "Yes," Jor said. "Dr. Illyana Ivanov did this."
Mordin's fingers squeezed the railing of the operating table that Kior was laying on, sleeping helplessly through the conversation. The gas began hit Mordin's senses and began to disorient him immediately. It was strong stuff, making him dizzy instantly. He was sure that if he had been a secondary, he would be dead already. With his Salarian immune system, he felt lucky that he didn't drop dead anyway. He watched as Jor stumbled to his knees, under the same effect.
Whoever realized they were there, in that room, had gassed them. The Salarian Scientist was certain, in the last moment, that they would not kill him. They still needed him alive to experiment on. They would still assume he was easy to control, even if they had to be rough. But that was there were all of Mordin Solus' past enemies had gone wrong, and that was where these would too. He was used to being underestimated.
As he dropped to the ground sideways, asleep and drugged, he vowed to himself that they would never see him coming.
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