A/N: Sorry for the delay, Real Life™ is bee-yotch. Hectic work. Hectic schedule. Hectic everything.

WARNING! This is a work of fiction. DO NOT attempt to actually cure a stasis using Dimethylethanolamine! If you suspect you find case of stasis, please contact professional medical services!

Disclaimer: Mass Effect, its universe, and the characters within, all belong to BioWare.

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Last Rites

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Chapter 4: The Professor

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He takes a breath.

The commander had suggested that everyone take some rest while the Normandy's en route to the Omega 4 relay.

He had taken his rest. For him, a 1-hour nap is enough. More than enough.

He had better things to do.

Chemical analysis indicates stasis canceled by presence of Dimethylethanolamine in blood. Human physiological response to Dimethylethanolamine minimum. Must mass-produce for direct carotid artery injection.

He takes a breath.

Miranda had asked him for an antidote to the seeker-induced stasis, just in case the crews are still in stasis if they find them.

No, *when* they find them.

Must also prepare anti-anxiety medication. Crew might be in trauma. Adrenaline shots. Stimulants. Saline solutions if dehydrated. Fortunate, all crew members are human. No need to plan for species compatibility.

He takes a breath.

He glanced at the molecular sequencer, already beginning to produce dimethylethanolamine in copious amounts. He briskly walks to the storage closets in the lab. He retrieves some syringes and medicine cartridges, and deposits them in the sterilizer.

As he waits for the sterilizer to finish its job, his mind wanders to his earlier conversation with Samara.

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Shepard had informed the crew that if they need to 'mentally prepare' by 'relaxing their minds', Samara and Thane had volunteered to guide. He had chosen to visit Samara. Visiting Thane would only distract him as he would undoubtedly be thinking of genetic treatment for the ailing drell.

So, he visited the Starboard Observation deck. He locked the door after he entered.

"Professor Solus. Quite unexpected to see you here. I never thought you're a person that's into meditation," Samara greeted him calmly without even glancing at the salarian. "Here, sit beside me."

Mordin lowered himself to the floor, assuming the cross-legged posture of the asari.

"I can sense something weighing your mind."

Mordin took a sharp intake of breath. "No, no fear of death. In next cycle of life, will come back, and do better."

Samara nodded, understanding the reincarnation belief of the salarians. "Then, what have been bothering you, professor?"

Mordin took another breath. A deep one, this time. "Have been wondering. This ... suicide mission. Suicide? Maybe absolution for sins I committed."

Samara glanced at the professor. Before she managed to say anything, Mordin continued.

"But the Reapers. Still out there. If I die..." Mordin took another deep breath. "The Reapers. So technologically advanced. Will need ingenuity. Research. Technological breakthroughs. Conventional weapons? Not enough."

Samara just watched him as he poured out all thoughts that had been distracting him.

"Last decade of my life. Want to give a legacy. A heroic deed. Saving the galaxy, but not at the cost any another race. Except the Reapers," Mordin paused, his mind went distant for awhile.

"Pity if all species must die. The universe needs variety. Very well then. Do not die. Give hand to help abducted crews, and survive the Collector confrontation," Mordin added. Then he shook his head and said, "No, no. Self-justifying, not acceptable. Totally irresponsible."

Mordin suddenly stood up and turned toward the door. While unlocking the door, he muttered, "Must pay the price of my iniquities. Death is not unwelcome."

Suddenly Samara called out, "Professor Solus."

Mordin stopped and turned around.

"What you did... it might seem horrible to some. But you did not kill the innocents. Instead, not only have you saved all non-krogans, you also saved the krogans from certain extinction due to infighting and resources running out.

"You made sure that the genophage was not absolute. That it was not genocide. Even at great personal cost. Others would not care less. But you... you have a kindred soul.

"Now go, and embrace your peace, for you have not committed injustice."

Mordin blinked. He glanced at the asari, who seemed to have returned to her meditation. Something resembling a smile appeared on his visage.

"Thank you, justicar," he replied, before going back to his lab.

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He takes a breath.

He opens his eyes. The sterilizer is still not done. 1 minute more.

Yet he is at peace.

If he survives, he'll be looking forward to fighting the Reapers with technology.

But if death comes, he will embrace it.

He will hold the line. No matter the cost.

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Author's Notes: I hope I did not write Mordin too OOC-ly. He's a difficult character to flesh out, especially since he rarely makes a significant appearance in fanfics, so I don't have much 'role model' to base my portrayal from.

If you also subscribe to "Explanations and Excuses", don't worry; I'm still working on that. But the chapter-in-progress is a real doozy. That, and Real Life™, practically delays the next chapter of that to, let's say, Tuesday?

Next chapter: Death wish of a dying man.

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Edit 01: Minor fix in title decorations. Add spacers between flashback and present.