Dr Mordin Solus was in the middle of retrieving a sample from yet another dead seeker beetle, which among other things involved operating with a very fragile hollow iridium needle, when the door behind him opened with a hiss and in the next three seconds, a pair of heavy boots landed on his table. The desk resonated for some time after that and he was certain he'd heard something shatter.
His hand didn't as much as waver.
"Jack," he mumbled.
"Hey, doctor. Hope I didn't break our chances for survival there."
"Chances of survival low anyway," he commented matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I guess they are," she laughed.
There were a few moments of silence, wherein Mordin cleaned up the workplace nad Jack simply glared at him, her feet still up high.
"So, why didn't you go with Shepard on this one, again?" she asked.
"Don't think krogan enjoy salarians they cannot shoot," he exclaimed dryly.
This got another laugh from the human girl.
"Purpose of your visit?" he demanded.
"Just wanted to talk."
Mordin looked up at last. He'd cathegorized the biotic as extremely... unpredictable the first time he laid eyes on her in Purgatory. What an unfortunate mission that had been... Bored, he thought, probably meant nothing good with this one.
"Have time," he agreed cautiously, "what do you want to hear?"
Jack stretched in a dangerous position over the chair.
"Oh, gee, Doctor, I don't know. Hey, I actually found a file on you in one of the Cerberus databases Shepard had given me!"
"Hm," he pondered.
"I hear you had something to do with the krogan population growth... Or should I say decrease?"
"Hm," he exclaimed, stiffly now.
"So you did what?"
Mordin shifted uneasily and rubbed his forehead. Was there a point, really?
"Led a team. Renewed genophage," he offered shortly.
Jack blinked. Just once.
"You renewed it? Just... because? Kickass!"
Mordin arched a brow. He wasn't entirely sure they understood each other.
"Did it to save galaxy. Krogan population increase would have tragic consequences."
Jack grinned.
"If you say so. I say you and I are not that different."
"Oh. How so?" he frowned.
The girl stretched over the chair, playing with one of her earrings in an unnerving manner.
"Well, we both killed lots of people and didn't give a damn?"
"Irrelevant!" Mordin shook his head, waving his arms around, "my motives based on science! Emotions not needed with what science dictates."
"Yeah, that still means you don't have emotions."
"No. Know when to use them, when not. A significant difference."
"Oh, sure," she yawned, "it's so easy to rationalize."
Mordin gazed over the young human in frustration. This was ten years ago all over again. No. He used to feel guilty. He used to question his decisions and actions. But a part - a very significant part - of the life of a salarian was learning not to regret anything. Their lifespan was too short for that, for any kind of worry, for regrets, for nostalgia... Just move on, forward, to new discoveries and brighter tommorows. Mordin never thought about relaxing. He had never been taught how to, after all.
He gave out a short sigh.
"Lucky," he gestured towards Jack.
"'Scuse me?"
"You are lucky. Have enough time to right wrongs. Salarians have no such luxury."
She gazed at him for a long, silent moment, and for once, under all her metal accessories, her tatoos and sharp cheekbones, he saw the child she really was. She looked almost pensive for a while there, but then she stretched her limbs, jumped out of the chair, tapped him on the shoulder and said cheerfuly: "Tough break."
He watched the door slide shut behind her, sighed again and returned to his work.
Tough break, indeed.