Commander Shepard of the Alliance v Dr. Sur'Kesh Ilorot Ceste Dil Solus Mordin. SSV Normandy SR-2, 2186.
"What are you eating?" Garrus asked blankly, staring at Mordin's plate of food: more of the coconut-tasting spinach liybh leaves, with a pile of what appeared to be sunshine-yellow gummy candy.
Shepard giggled. "They're berries."
"They are…?" Garrus asked suspiciously as Mordin popped a few in his mouth, then tore another one in half and held it out, translucent red juice dripping onto the plate. "Uh, no thanks," Garrus said hastily, and Shepard laughed.
"Gahtoh," Mordin said. "Sun-berries. Tastes like… hm. Strawberry, with mint."
"Can I try one?" Shepard asked, and Mordin held one out. She took it, squished it between her fingers for a moment, then tossed it into her mouth, chewing slowly. "Mm. Mm. That mint aftertaste is sharper than I thought it would be."
Mordin smiled, then glanced down at his plate. "Play now? May be a while before food is finished."
"Yeah, sure. Hey, Traynor!" Shepard called, and the comms specialist waved.
"Mind if we watch?" Dr. Chakwas asked, and Mordin inclined his head.
"Whatever you like." Mordin sat down at the table and set his plate to the side; Shepard did the same, and waited for the tournament's lead.
"Okay!" Traynor said cheerfully as she neared. "You'll have sixty minutes to finish the game, after which a winner will be called based on pieces captured and strategic position. You can start whenever you're ready."
Mordin glanced up. "Challenge?"
"Do not hold back," Shepard said with a wide grin. "I want to see where this goes."
"Oh, I want to see this," Garrus murmured, and Dr. Chakwas laughed.
Mordin sighed. "Very well," he said loftily, and flicked a pawn forward.
Shepard moved her opposite pawn. "What do I get if I win?"
Mordin moved a knight. "Tournament prize."
Shepard snorted and moved her own knight. "Yeah, but what if I beat you here?"
"Won't."
Shepard blinked at his matter-of-fact tone. "You're very sure about that."
"Yes." Shepard met his gaze, his expression flat but his eyes twinkling with a bit of humor, and he moved his other knight.
She moved a pawn. "What if I've been studying?"
"Momnoh behmabh tabhe," Mordin replied pragmatically, and Shepard rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, but studying counts for something," she grumbled, moving her own bishop in response to his. "Besides, I have been practicing, too."
Mordin captured a pawn, then Shepard let out a whoop and threw her bishop forward to capture his queen.
"Oh dear," Dr. Chakwas said in a low voice, the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
"'Oh dear?'" Garrus echoed.
"He's done this to me before. Just watch."
"I thought I said don't hold back!" Shepard exclaimed as his queen icon disappeared.
"Know that," he replied simply, moving his own bishop forward to sit near her king. She moved it one space forward without much thought.
"I've already got your queen - "
"Checkmate."
Shepard's smile faltered. "What?" she blurted as Garrus snickered.
"Mnuyahk," Mordin repeated in Covus, smiling placidly and placing his interlocked hands on the table.
Shepard stared at the board. "No."
"No?" he asked mildly.
She stared at the board some more, searching. If she moved her king to the left, it could be captured by his knight; if she moved it back or forward, it could be captured by his bishop; if she moved it diagonally, it would be caught by his other knight, and the only other ways out were being blocked by her own queen and pawn. "No way."
"Sufficient?" Mordin said, still wearing that same, irritatingly smug grin, and she gave a bark of laughter.
"I expected you to win, but in less than - what, twenty moves?"
"Thirteen," Mordin said pleasantly.
Shepard rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous. Shut up, Garrus."
"I'm not even saying anything!" the turian protested, but she snorted and spun to face him.
"Laughing your ass off is still saying something," she told him.
Garrus pointed at her, still trying to hide laughter. "You got thrashed so badly," he giggled.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, yes, thank you for that analysis," she said dryly. "Where's Traynor?"
"Quick game," Mordin remarked, standing, and Shepard yanked his sleeve.
"Not yet. You have to wait for Traynor to get here," she said. "And I want you to show me how you did that."
"Later," Mordin said lightly, picking up his almost-forgotten plate of food. "Would like to see if you can avoid it next time."
Garrus grinned and slapped Shepard on the back. "All right, little padawan," he snickered. "Better you than me."
"At least it's not in Covus," Shepard muttered, laying her head down so her cheek was on the table.
"Uh oh. Shouldn't have said that out loud," Garrus said, still grinning, and Shepard glanced up.
Mordin had a single liybh leaf halfway to his mouth and was smiling, his eyes narrowed. Shepard pressed her forehead into the table with a thunk and a groan. "Do you have to?" she asked.
"Chyeh, ilremnu?" he commented, and she groaned as Garrus laughed.
Dr. Karin Chakwas of the Alliance v Garrus Vakarian. SSV Normandy SR-2, 2186.
"Okay. You've got sixty minutes to finish the game," Samantha Traynor announced cheerfully, "after which a winner will be called based on pieces captured and strategic position. Ready?"
Garrus leaned forward, eyes squinted at his opponent like a standoff in a movie; his opponent blinked, looked somewhat amused, and gave a light laugh.
"Yes, we're ready," Dr. Karin Chakwas said smoothly.
"Okay! Go ahead and begin!"
Dr. Chakwas reached out and moved a pawn; Garrus moved a pawn. Dr. Chakwas moved a knight; Garrus moved a knight.
"That strategy won't last you long," the doctor warned him wryly, prompting what would have been a rather nasty look, had Garrus' mandibles not been twitching in amusement, and the turian quickly moved a bishop instead.
A few more moves happened; then Garrus swore loudly. As several heads turned in his direction, he rolled his eyes. "Well, forgive me for having a rich vocabulary," he said to the room flippantly.
Shepard, standing to the side with Mordin, squinted at the board, then declared, "Garrus is winning."
"No. Karin captured queen; leaves part of board exposed, see?" Mordin remarked, pointing to empty squares at the side.
"Mm. Yeah. And that means… if she moves her bishop - "
"Do you mind?" Garrus asked amiably, and Shepard winced.
"Sorry," she said, looking sheepish as she backed up. "Mordin, let's go check the other match. I think it's Copeland and Campbell." She waved him along.
Meanwhile, Garrus made a face, mandibles twitching once, and captured the rook that had taken his queen.
"You could've seen that coming," Dr. Chakwas noted with a smile, moving a pawn forward, and Garrus snorted.
"Yes, let me rewind time so I can glue my eyeballs to the screen," he said lightly, and moved his bishop away from her queen.
"Don't be ridiculous," Dr. Chakwas scolded. "Hasn't the Commander been teaching you chess?"
Garrus shrugged. "Yeah, in our off time, sometimes. Not very effective when you're doing it on omni-tools, though."
Dr. Chakwas frowned, moving a pawn in response to the pawn he'd moved. "Why on omni-tools?" she asked curiously.
"Not always in the same room. That way, we can do it remotely."
"I can't imagine you can see the whole board," she said doubtfully as they continued to play.
"You can't," Garrus answered wryly, moving a bishop.
"Not very effective," Dr. Chakwas told him, capturing another pawn. "Pay attention to your knight."
"Mind your own business," Garrus grumbled, though he didn't sound very harsh. "How'd you get good at chess?"
"Mordin," she replied simply. "We played on the Normandy last time whenever we were both free. We've been intending to keep the habit, though he's hardly ever got actual free time."
"You and Mordin started spending a lot of time together on the old Normandy," Garrus said casually. "You, uh… you help him with experiments sometimes?"
"Yes, although it took us some time to figure out how to work with each other," she said dryly. "Initially, he was a bit, hm… reckless with it."
Garrus snorted. "That man doesn't look reckless in the slightest."
"Yes, well," Dr. Chakwas said, waving a hand after she pushed a knight forward, "reckless doesn't have to mean pulling all the stunts you all pull."
Garrus glanced up, only to see her steely expression, and he gave an awkward, sheepish grin. "Hey. Occupational hazard."
"Mm." Dr. Chakwas did not look convinced. "So I've been told."
"It's sometimes why we're alive!" Garrus exclaimed, moving a pawn forward; Dr. Chakwas moved her queen. "Besides, we're all okay."
"You got shot in the face with a missile," Dr. Chakwas said, deadpan, and Garrus choked back his next words.
After he cleared his throat, he held up a finger. "You have a very good point," he said concedingly, "but I would like to propose consideration of the absolutely badass scars."
"And cybernetics across your jaw, and several dermal plates cracked or outright broken, and a skull fracture so bad I'm surprised you didn't shatter, reconstructed eardrum - "
"All right, all right!" Garrus said quickly, waving his hand. "Noise is still a little dull on that side, you know. But anyway, you - "
"Is it? I've got the proper interfacing to check it," Dr. Chakwas said speculatively, eyeing him, as if she was considering hauling him to the medical bay right then and there.
"Yeah, it's not really noticeable, but I can tell when it's quiet. Now - "
"It's likely wear and tear on the artificial layers, I'm sure I can… hm. Does it seem any better or worse with different pitches?" she asked him abruptly.
Garrus snorted. "Do you want to make a move?" he asked dryly, gesturing to the board, and Dr. Chakwas chuckled.
"Sorry - although I would like a chance to take a look at it. Dull senses are not good in combat, especially if you need to hear something faint. Checkmate."
Garrus had moved his hand forward to choose a piece, and he spluttered. "Checkmate? Already?"
Dr. Chakwas gestured to the board. "See for yourself," she said with an amused smile, and waved the specialist over.
As they reviewed the game, Mordin and Shepard walked near.
"Who won?" Shepard asked eagerly.
"Dr. Chakwas won, fair and square," Traynor announced, making a note on her datapad.
Shepard grinned at Garrus. "Still think it's just because Mordin taught me that I always win?"
"But he taught Chakwas too!" Garrus protested, standing up and nearly tripping; Shepard snorted.
"If you say so, Vakarian. You know he never lets me copy strategies, right?"
"What, he doesn't teach you any strategy?"
"He'll guide me sometimes, but only what I can come up with myself." Their voices faded as they walked away.
"Well done," Mordin told Dr. Chakwas.
"Mm, it wasn't that difficult, but don't tell him I said so," she said wryly, standing. "How are Copeland and Campbell coming along?"
"Copeland won. Narrowly."
"Ah, that's a pity, I would've liked to see Campbell get more of a chance to just be a person for a while before going back to guard duty."
"Sure she will have time."
Dr. Karin Chakwas of the Alliance v Dr. Sur'Kesh Ilorot Ceste Dil Solus Mordin. SSV Normandy SR-2, 2186.
Dr. Karin Chakwas stepped up to the tournament's administrator. "How are things going?"
Samantha Traynor spun, looking more than a little alarmed. "Uh - fine, it's fine," she said quickly, and Dr. Chakwas raised one brow. "Really. Sorry. It's fine. We just had an - uh - unexpected addition to the tournament. It's fine."
"If you're sure," Dr. Chakwas said slowly. "If there's something you need, you only have to ask."
Traynor inhaled, then nodded, and let the breath out at once. "You're up next, by the way."
"Mm? Against who?"
"Uh…" Her eyes flicked up to a point above Dr. Chakwas' head. "Right behind you."
Dr. Chakwas spun on her heel, and nearly whacked herself in the eye on a piece of armor. The armor's wearer quickly stepped back, and Dr. Chakwas glanced up at the much-taller salarian standing as unassumingly as he could in front of her.
"I resign," she said.
Traynor stared. "What?"
"I resign," she repeated, staring up at Mordin. "He'll win anyway."
"May not," Mordin said mildly. "Idea - if permitting," he said, eyes meeting Traynor's.
"So long as it doesn't violate any rules. Come on, Doc," Traynor implored, her earlier alarm forgotten in favor of the prospect of chess games. "Give it a shot."
"Yeah," Shepard said, popping up as if she materialized out of thin air and throwing an arm around the woman's shoulders. "He only won against me in about 13 moves, after all."
"Mmhmm," Dr. Chakwas said, gently shrugging Shepard's arm off. "You all really want me to? Oh, dear," she muttered as the group nodded (Mordin merely inclined his head). "All right."
In hardly a few minutes, room had been cleared, a display set up, and both players were seated at the galley tables. Mordin took out his omni-tool and began poking at a few commands.
"What was your idea?" Dr. Chakwas asked.
"Create disadvantage. Can start as white," he told her.
"That's hardly an advantage against you," she scoffed.
"Willing to give up queen," Mordin added.
Dr. Chakwas raised one eyebrow. "That feels a little patronizing. And I bet you'll win anyway."
Mordin chuckled and lowered his omni-tool. "Play chess variation?"
"Even out the usual strategy advantage?" Dr. Chakwas asked, leaning on the table. "Sure."
"Random positioning okay?"
"Go ahead."
Mordin tapped his omni-tool, then passed his hand over the chess board, and the usual icon layout was replaced by a much more eccentric one: the queen was off to the side, both bishops next to it, then a knight, rook, king, knight, and the other rook. "Go first."
Dr. Chakwas heaved a sigh, but she was smiling as she reached out and moved the pawn in front of her light bishop forward. "So how are things going with Eve?" she asked conversationally as he followed up with moving the pawn in front of his queen.
"Agreeable. Current problem cancerous markers; need to decrease frequency, increase viability of tissues long-term - "
"I'm not asking about the results," she told him softly, moving her pawn again. "Are you two getting along?"
The two moved pawns numerous times as Mordin paused, then spoke. "Agreeable."
"That's all I'll get out of you?" she teased as she captured a pawn with her knight. "I've only spoken with her a few times, but she seems interesting."
"Not inaccurate assessment," Mordin remarked, moving a knight of his own. "Unique perspective."
"You've said that before, as if that's just the canned response you have to anyone asking you about it," Dr. Chakwas told him matter-of-factly. "If you don't want to talk about it, say so." She moved her own knight.
"Not that." He moved a pawn forward, threatening the knight, causing her to have to withdraw, then he began setting up defenses on the other side of the board as she tried to leverage her presence near the corner. "Some of information private."
"I'm not asking for her medical chart, Mordin," Dr. Chakwas scolded. "Are you getting along with her? Do you hate each other? How is Wrex acting around you?"
"Avoiding, if possible," Mordin said dryly, moving his queen to threaten another of her knights, the line edging unnervingly close to her king's protection.
"You are, or he is?" The look Mordin gave her was sharp, and she fought back a small laugh. "All right, all right."
They made their moves in silence for a minute or two, as Mordin finished protecting his king and turned his attention back to her corner, picking off pieces - a pawn, a knight, then threatening her queen. "Philosophical," he said finally.
"Hm?" She groaned as he swiped her queen off the board with his bishop.
"More philosophical than expected," he clarified as they traded pieces - he came away without a bishop, but his queen captured a knight and was getting closer and closer to her king.
"It's unlikely every single krogan in the universe is solely interested in bloodthirsty and violent conquest."
"Mm," Mordin muttered, then turned his attention to where he'd reinforced his king's defenses, and pushed his knight to capture the lone pawn of hers still in the area.
Dr. Chakwas paused for a moment before moving her bishops to threaten Mordin's queen. "Don't tell me you disagree."
He moved his queen to put her king in check. "Not average pursuit for krogan, philosophy."
She examined the board, then rolled her eyes and moved her king one space to the side. "That you know of."
Mordin delicately slid the queen forward again. "Checkmate."
Far from upset, Dr. Chakwas shook her head, smiling. "I said you'd win."
"Longer game than Shepard."
"That's because you pulled that trap on her," she scolded, kicking him lightly under the table. "That's unfair, and you know it."
"Easy to avoid!" Mordin said, wriggling away from her kick. "If white knight takes pawn, pawn takes knight and - "
"Yeah, but you distracted her with a queen sacrifice and you knew she'd fall for it," Dr. Chakwas accused. "You pulled that on me when we started playing, remember?"
"Of course. Remember it vividly. Hit me with display, if recalling correctly - "
"I did not hit you hard!" Dr. Chakwas said, laughing, and shifted in her seat so she could grab his sleeve as he inched further away. "You beat me in fifteen moves."
"Good lesson!" Mordin insisted, shaking her off his sleeve and sitting down more squarely. "Won't fall for again."
"The same could've been achieved with a couple diagrams and an example," she informed him. "You just like the ego boost."
Mordin scoffed. "'Ego boost,'" he said dismissively. "Against higher-rated opponent, perhaps - " He cut off as something came flying at him, and he instinctually ducked backward, far enough he almost fell, and hooked his foot around the table leg to keep him from toppling from his seat. Dr. Chakwas had picked up one of his gahtoh berries and chucked it at him.
"Yeah, Neo!" Joker crowed from across the room. "Do it again!"
Mordin raised his brows as he quickly sat back up. "'Neo?'"
"From the old human movie, The Matrix." Dr. Chakwas shrugged. "Quite a good movie, but the way they approach synthetics - well. I've got, ah, complicated feelings about it, so if you're going to suggest we watch it, you'll need to be in the mood to hear me not shut up the whole time." She snorted. "And that is exactly what I'm talking about," she chided wryly. "'Against a higher-rated opponent,' indeed."
Mordin held up his hands, his eyes twinkling. "Challenge."
She kicked him gently under the table again. "Come on. Let's go see who you're up against in the final round."
SSV Normandy SR-2 Championship Round, 2186.
Mordin sat at the table, waiting calmly. His opponent was running late, but he wasn't in a hurry; his latest round of experiments wouldn't be ready for analysis for another several hours.
He stared at the board; it shone back at him in its usual garish orange, and he once more silently lamented the fact they didn't have a physical set. He'd had to leave his own in his private space back at the Sur'Kesh facility, where it was likely pulverized, or at the very least, broken and out of his reach, present and future. Pity - it was a coin-style set carved out of wuchyiy sei, or oil-tree bark, which gave the pieces a permanent polished look no matter how scuffed, and accented the curved wooded lines.
He'd have to get another set some time - maybe a set with fully carved pieces. He typically played with coin- or disk-style chess pieces, often for simplicity since they were easier to store, but a small full set might be nice to try.
He heard footsteps - his opponent must be nearing, so he stood and turned to see who it was, peering past Wrex - who stomped by and, to Mordin's confusion, stood opposite him.
Mordin turned and surveyed him, one eyebrow raised; the room was silent, save for a few conversations nearer the hallway.
Wrex grunted. His face displayed a dark, humorless smile, beady eyes fixed on the salarian. "Let's get this over with."
Mordin blinked, then looked to Wrex suspiciously, but before he could speak, Dr. Chakwas chimed in.
"He's your opponent," she said, eyes narrowed and smiling faintly. "He won fairly." She glanced at Wrex, who remained quiet, though his smile broadened in a rather unfriendly way.
If Mordin was subsequently any more shocked by this fact, he hid it well, adopting his usual composed mannerisms, straightening up and adjusting his sleeves. "Surprising," he noted.
Shepard scowled. "Mordin."
The salarian looked up, but before he could say anything, Wrex laughed, a low rumble that seemed to make the air vibrate, and he waved a hand at Shepard. "I can take care of this."
"Don't kill each other," the Commander said darkly.
"Motivation not to. Common goal; would not jeopardize over petty - " Mordin stopped talking as a dark shape loomed over him. Not many could tower over his admittedly spindly but tall frame, but Wrex managed it easily by at least half a foot, not counting the shoulder hump. Wrex took another step forward, forcing Mordin to take a step back or be knocked over, and he eyed the krogan with icy calm.
Wrex seemed to find his demeanor amusing, laughing in a low rumble again. "I can't wait to take you down a notch."
"Unlikely to win," Mordin stated coolly; once more, Wrex interrupted before he could say any more.
"I've heard that before," the large krogan scoffed, cracking his knuckles without breaking eye contact. "You worried you're gonna get trounced by a krogan?"
Mordin sighed, stepped around him, and sat down, Wrex following a moment after. Mordin eyed Shepard, who gave him a reprimanding look.
"Quit it, Mordin," she said irritably, her Commander Shepard voice surfacing for a moment. "He won against Copeland fairly. Get over it and play your game."
Wrex paused, then gave a slow, rumbling chuckle. "Well, isn't that nice," he said with a less-chilly grin directed at Shepard. "Thanks for the defense, but…" He turned back to Mordin, who had interlaced his fingers and leaned on them, elbows on the table, and Mordin nodded to the display, where he had already moved a pawn. "I don't need some fancy words to beat ik fspa."
Shepard's translator skipped out on those few words - she was beginning to wonder what sort of software her translator ran on, and if she had messed it up somehow when she disabled the Covus translation, because it seemed to pick very specific times to suddenly not work.
Wrex grabbed the display, surveyed it, poked a pawn forward, and slid it across the table hard enough that it hit Mordin in the stomach. The salarian frowned; Wrex guffawed, and Mordin slid another pawn forward and placed the display delicately back on the table.
Ignoring the few folks surrounding them, Mordin interlaced his fingers together and asked conversationally, "Chess learned when?"
Shepard frowned - apparently the odd grammar didn't get translated out very smoothly.
"Uh, about two hours ago," Wrex answered glibly, picking up the display and holding it closer to his face. "This thing's too small. Pawn to…" He tilted the display. "c6."
This time, Mordin caught the display before it hit his abdomen. "Knight to f3," he stated. "Two hours? You time haven't had to practice."
"Is my translator messing up?" Shepard muttered to Dr. Chakwas, who shook her head.
"Don't have to hole up in a corner playing it for decades. Not like it's hard to figure out," Wrex told him, and ignored the resulting unimpressed expression. "Pawn to…" Once again, he held the display up, squinting at it. "e6."
"Pawn to e3," Mordin said without glancing at the display. "Chess skill requires."
"Ugh." Wrex tilted the display. "You giving yourself a headache, talking like that? 'Cause you're giving me one."
"Krestnock grammar. Thought you would - "
"Krestnock and your grammar," Wrex said, distaste clear in his voice. "Those two things should never be mixed. Pawn to, uh, f5."
"Very well." Mordin manually moved a bishop forward, then slid the display back. "Learned other games before?"
"'Course," Wrex scoffed. "Gotta pass the time somehow, right? Shit as a merc gets hellishly boring. Pointy-thing to, uh, d6."
"Bishop," Mordin supplied, then made a quickly-stifled hmph noise as Wrex shot the display across the table to collide with his midsection again, and the krogan snickered. Mordin flicked a pawn to capture another pawn, then handed it back.
Wrex managed to drag his own pawn across Mordin's pawn to capture it in turn, and the icon disappeared behind Wrex's. "What d'you little frogs do? Play with DNA or something? Cell games? Cell apps?" He chuckled, though nobody else looked vaguely enlightened as to what that meant other than Mordin. "Other folks' lives? I'm sure that's standard for you guys."
Mordin kept his calm, casual demeanor, and swapped his king and rook in a move called castling. "Strategy games, memory games. Many mental games, intended to challenge processing instead of memorization. Couple of language games."
"Figures you hyperactive shits can't keep your focus on one for a while," Wrex remarked, poking the display to move a knight; Mordin merely shrugged. "How the fuck d'you make a game out of language?"
"Humans have scrabble," Dr. Chakwas reasoned, piping up from the sidelines. "And there's one called telephone."
Mordin gave a tiny smile in her direction, accepting the display from Wrex and making his move. "Salarian Covus-speakers sometimes use multiple dialects at once. Person who makes fewest errors wins."
"Multiple dialects?" Shepard asked blankly. "How do you speak multiple dialects at once?"
"First word, first dialect; second word, second dialect; so on. Grammar rules decided upon prior to game, akin to High Thessian. Or like this." Mordin gestured as he spoke, first drawing a circle with his finger, and then pointing forward as if to tap at something in the air. "Less common, simultaneous signing - often tiring. Different languages, difficult." He paused. "Covus technically two languages, in some respects - spoken, signed. Both still considered Covus, equally."
"You know sign language?" Shepard asked, curious.
"Covus," Mordin stated. "Both considered Covus. Sign not universal - over fifty thousand signed languages throughout galaxy." He shrugged. "Learned for STG, kept up with language for nephew."
"Can we get a move-on?" Wrex demanded, shoving the display at Mordin, who sighed again and picked it up, moved a bishop, and gave it back.
"Fifty thousand?" Shepard was asking. "Is that a lot? How many spoken languages are there?"
"Some several hundred-thousand," Dr. Chakwas replied. "Although if you count all nonverbal languages, not just ones signed in traditional two-handed format, the number of signed languages approaches the hundred-thousand mark as well."
"And here I'm struggling to just learn Covus," Shepard muttered. Dr. Chakwas nudged her.
"Covus is hard. Learning languages is hard."
"Agree," Mordin added. "Personally, know… between eight and thirteen, depending on fluency, and still find languages difficult." He caught the display as Wrex almost threw it across the table again, laughing in a low growl.
"All of you all and your flowery language," Wrex said scornfully. "Krestnock, you say what you mean. None of this dancing-around, namby-pamby stuff."
Mordin let out an odd huff, and quickly placed his fingers over his mouth in a pensive look, though Dr. Chakwas eyed him suspiciously.
"Something funny?" she asked him.
Mordin returned her gaze, then lowered his hand, revealing a slight smile. "Never heard phrase before."
"What's it translate as?" Shepard asked, walking around to sit on the other side of Mordin.
Mordin glanced to Wrex, who snorted and watched him slyly. "Literally translated, vzdash mgnago would be said in English as flower-flu."
Shepard choked back a laugh; Dr. Chakwas chuckled. "Flower flu?"
"Could also be translated as 'delicate state-of-being,' though flower-flu is more literal." Mordin took the display as it was thrust at him once more, and promptly captured a pawn with his knight.
"So much for saying exactly what you mean," Shepard snorted, glancing at Wrex, who laughed openly.
"In Krestnock, flower-flu - or - hold on," he muttered, fiddling with something at the side of his head. "EDI, turn the Krestnock translation off," he barked.
"Won't be able to understand you," Mordin reasoned, pointing to the two humans. "Could translate, though."
"I don't trust you enough for that," Wrex said in a deceptively amiable tone, moving his knight next to Mordin's. "Anyway, the - what he said, the flower flu - the delicate imagery - the weak state - YOU GET WHAT I MEAN," he said, loudly and suddenly, making the other three jump. "Damn translator. Those words. The ones in Krestnock. They DO mean exactly what we krogan need it to."
"Krestnock typically very exact language, however - " Mordin began, then made another disgruntled hmph! noise as he was hit in the stomach with the display again. "Going to break it," he told the krogan irately.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get your undies in a twist," Wrex growled, turning to the humans. "Krestnock is a specific language, it's not always entirely literal. Shit doesn't have a ton of variable meaning, and words that have more than one meaning are rare."
"So what's a word that does have a double meaning?"
"Fa," Mordin said, handing the display back. Wrex took it with a leer.
"Yeah. What he said. It means battle, usually, but it can also mean struggle. And no, those are very different concepts." Wrex shot the display across the table again.
"Huh. So there's a word for, like, everything?" Shepard asked curiously.
"Yeah - " Wrex began at the exact moment Mordin said "No, has - " and both frowned. Mordin finally gestured and handed the display back.
Wrex fixed Mordin with one eye, tilting his head to the side, his expression daring the salarian to keep talking. "Yeah. There's a word for everything we need, and if we come across something we don't have, we make a new one."
"Except borrowing from Covus - " Mordin began, then broke off as Wrex's arm shot out to hold the display a few inches from the base of his throat. The krogan gave that low, rumbling, unfriendly laugh again as Mordin took the display, flipping it over irritably to make his move.
"Yeah. His people genetically nuked us and we got all our toys taken away, so we lost a bunch of words for shit. Science and whatever."
Mordin paused. "Lost."
Wrex glared. "Yeah, lost, little froggy."
"Some very advanced science," Mordin said carefully, handing the display back, and Wrex growled.
"Yeah, you shit. I should know. I was there."
Mordin glanced up curiously; Shepard did the same. Dr. Chakwas only stood and turned to the small kitchen. "Don't kill each other," she said dryly as she walked off.
Wrex's eyes flitted between Shepard and Mordin. "What?" he barked. "I'm fucking old, Shepard."
"How much do you remember?" Shepard asked, twining her fingers together on the table.
"Not much, really far back," Wrex grumbled, making a move and shoving the display at Mordin without looking at him. "Partly history. Gotta know what happened if you don't wanna do it again. But also, I'm well over a thousand. The fuck did your languages look like a thousand years ago?" Wrex asked Shepard, turning his head to fix one yellow eye on her. "Sure, krogan live longer, so the language evolves slower, but I've been alive for over a thousand years of changes. And not just Krestnock." He thumped one fist on his chest. "I pre-date the translators you all are wearing. 'Cept for you." He jabbed a finger at Mordin.
Mordin had frozen, one hand raised, holding the display, and blinked very quickly, his eyes fixed on the krogan.
"Don't look at me like that," Wrex said gruffly, wresting the display from the salarian, who kept staring. "Get off my case, language fetishist."
Shepard unsuccessfully hid a snort. "You pick that up from Garrus?"
"Might've," Wrex said casually as Mordin's arm fell to the table with a quiet thump. "Did I break him?"
"Huh? Mordin? No, you caught him off-guard, though," Shepard chuckled, glancing sideways at the salarian, who had a very pensive look on his face.
"Anyone for tea?" Dr. Chakwas asked, coming near with a tray precariously balanced on one hand with four mugs on it. "Including you, Wrex, I think I have something you'll like." She set the tray down and she and Shepard handed out mugs before she sat down.
"This had better not be some sugary shit," Wrex muttered, sniffing the tea suspiciously, and Dr. Chakwas shook her head.
"Drink it," was all she said. "I've got black tea, Shepard has cinnamon, Mordin has green citrus, and yours…"
The krogan in question dumped half the mug's contents into his mouth at once, ran his tongue around his teeth, then cackled. "This isn't tea."
"Actually, it is. Lemon, ginger, and cayenne pepper," Dr. Chakwas said lightly, and took a sip of her own. "Thought you might find it interesting."
Wrex set the mug on the table and grabbed the display as Mordin - who had flicked his shoulder frame and had started muttering under his breath - offered it to him. "You short-circuit there or something?" Wrex jeered, then held the display up to look at the board.
Mordin inhaled sharply and leaned forward, fingers steepled and still muttering to himself in Covus; Shepard caught the words linguistics and evolution.
"Don't tell me you hadn't put that together 'til now, little froggy," Wrex said flatly after a moment, interrupting the quiet monologue.
Mordin effortlessly switched to English. "Did not know age."
Wrex leaned forward. "Well, if you and your kind hadn't fucked us over, there'd be younger krogan around," he said nastily. "All that's left are the grumpy, bitter, old ones." He held the display out to Mordin.
For once, Wrex let him take it without a fuss, and Mordin quietly made his move and handed it back. "Understand that."
Wrex snorted. "No you don't. But keep trying," he said with as much of a sneer as he could. "I'm gonna win."
"Have questions about language," Mordin said, not paying attention to the chess board as he handed it back.
"Of course you do," Wrex muttered, considering the display held at eye level again, then after a few attempts at poking a piece, he finally barked at it, "King to d6."
"If you don't mind," Mordin said carefully, taking the display back. "Have talked to various asari. Never to krogan."
"Couldn't deign to speak with us?" Wrex asked, though his tone spoke more of amusement, despite his sneer. Mordin flicked his eyes up to Wrex, then down to the display and captured Wrex's queen. "Uh-huh." Wrex took the display back. "I'm gonna win."
"Krestnock words for science - personally, know a few, though - " Mordin began.
"No you don't," Wrex stated as he took the rook Mordin had used to capture the queen. "Heheheh."
Mordin once more looked unimpressed as Wrex handed the display back. "About language - "
"Nope," Wrex said, popping his lips on the last syllable.
"No?" Mordin asked mildly, absentmindedly moving his king to capture a pawn. "Only questions."
"I don't owe you anything," Wrex said, losing some of his former jubilance, taking the display from Mordin. "Questions or not."
Mordin's expression remained impassive as Shepard hesitantly glanced between the two aliens. Dr. Chakwas calmly sipped her tea. "True. Merely curious."
"I don't see why I should tell you," Wrex said in a low rumble. "You've done enough damage with shit we didn't give you."
Mordin opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it, and moved his king with the intent of capturing another pawn. "Promise - merely curious," he said finally, quietly.
Wrex heaved a sigh, shifting his weight on his seat, some of the animosity draining away, taking the display as Mordin offered it and moving his rook. "Look. To you, it's a fucking hobby. Research project. Whatever. To me, it's - well." He grunted. "It's a lot of history lost." Wrex glared as he handed the display back.
"Not just hobby. Language influences life, culture, society, psychology, relationships..." Mordin said, then glanced down, finally truly taking in the chess board. Rooks spread across the board, a few stray pawns, a bishop near the first row… and to the right, the two kings, a rook, and a pawn… He frowned.
Shepard leaned over, peering at the chess board curiously; then she made a noise of surprise.
Dr. Chakwas looked up. "Hm?"
"Oh, shit." Shepard sat back up straight, her expression fighting between shocked and thoroughly amused. "Oh, shit."
"You wanna make it formal, or is that good enough?" Wrex said loudly, grinning.
Mordin, meanwhile, was drawing lines in the air over the chess board, brow furrowed intensely.
Dr. Chakwas' eyes widened. "Wait. Did he just - ?"
"Told you I'd win!" Wrex boomed, evidently intent on the entire Normandy knowing so. Dr. Chakwas smacked him lightly on the arm.
"You were also distracting him the entire time, you know. You know how he gets about language."
"Nobody said I couldn't do that!" Wrex cackled. "And you were distracting him too! And Shepard!"
"I'm not in the middle of this!" Shepard said hastily, raising both hands, and the other two laughed.
Mordin continued analysing the chess board for a moment, then paused, sighed, and shook his head ruefully. "Hm."
"What happened to that salarian multitasking ability?" Wrex jeered.
"Would win in rematch," Mordin remarked.
"Nah," Wrex said jubilantly, slapping the table. "Take your salarian superiority complex and shove it."
Mordin glanced down at the display again, then up to Wrex, holding the gaze for a moment, as if debating something for a few seconds. "Underestimated," he said finally, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
"Hell yeah, you did," Wrex said proudly, puffing out his chest. Mordin gave the board one last glance, then set it down, stood, and held out his hand. Wrex stared at it.
"Traditional," Mordin explained, wiggling his fingers; Wrex glanced to Shepard, who nodded encouragingly.
Wrex stood and seized Mordin's hand with clearly more force than necessary, causing Mordin to wince. Wrex merely guffawed. "Tell you what, little froggy," he said, and pulled Mordin a bit closer so he could leverage his height. "Get that cure done and then we'll talk language."
Mordin stepped back once Wrex released him and straightened his sleeves. "Acceptable."
"Hey. Can we talk?"
Mordin glanced at Shepard as the lights in the galley dimmed, the ship having begun the night cycle. "Something wrong?"
"Mm, not entirely. I just wanted to say thanks for playing. I know it may seem silly, but I think folks enjoyed the tournament - "
Mordin smiled. "Was fun. Unexpected, but fun."
"Heh, yeah." Shepard grinned back at him. "Thanks for being a good sport about it, too," she said, elbowing him playfully.
"Expected me to get upset?" Mordin asked mildly, and Shepard shrugged.
"Honestly? Wasn't sure what to expect. You don't really lose your temper much, or at all, but chess is something really important to you and I know you and Wrex don't really get along." She made a face. "Which is a bit of a problem itself, but hey. One thing at a time."
"Has reason to distrust," Mordin said quietly, and Shepard glanced up, slightly surprised.
"Yeah. Yeah, he does." She paused. "You've not really talked much about that yet."
"About Wrex?"
"About the whole cure thing, and krogan, and whatever else."
"Ah." Mordin shrugged. "Circumstances different."
"And yet, what you just told me was that Wrex has a reason to distrust you, not that he thinks he has a reason," Shepard commented, arms crossed and one brow raised. "You stated that as a general fact."
"Not entirely distinct - " Mordin started to say, but Shepard waved his comment away as she interrupted.
"Language matters. What you say and how you say it matters. You taught me that," she told him firmly. "What you said implies he has a valid, legitimate reason to not trust you. Not that he thinks he does. If he has a valid, legitimate reason to not trust you, that means you did something to cause that. And you and I both know what that thing - "
Mordin had placed his hand on her shoulder. "Shepard," he said gently. "Not right now."
She met his eyes squarely. "You're not denying it."
"Would appreciate speaking in private," Mordin told her quietly. "Not in middle of galley."
Shepard held his gaze for a moment longer, then ducked her head. "Yeah, okay, that's fair."
Mordin let his hand drop from her shoulder, and turned to leave.
"Oh, but Mordin?"
"Hm?"
Shepard sighed. "I know you're doing a lot better than a year or two ago, but... look. Wrex may not be clever in the ways you associate with intelligence, but he's got a lot of experience and knowledge in areas that you probably don't." She shrugged. "It makes perfect sense to me that he did pretty well today. He's studied tactics and strategy for, like, a millennium."
Mordin glanced back, and was silent for a long moment. "Likely," he said finally. "Circumstances different, after all. Different perspectives." He looked down at his own display in his hands and winced at the graphs. "Need to check on experiments, though - "
"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Go. I'll talk to you later."
Mordin smiled. "Viaehn, chyeh."
Author's Note:
Mordin's my favorite character, but sometimes (especially in ME2) he needs to get his head out of his rear about krogan.
If you're curious, by the way, the chess trick Mordin pulled on Shepard is called Legál's Trap or Legál's Mate. It is a little underhanded, but it's also easily avoided if you pay attention. It distracts the opponent by sacrificing the queen to line up a quick checkmate.
The chess variant that Mordin and Chakwas played is called Chess960 - a reference to the number of possible starting positions in the game.
Fun fact, except for the Legál's Mate, each of these chess games were actually simulated. I'm learning chess!
Language glossary:
Momnoh behmabh tabhe - Covus, study doesn't equal experience (paraphrased)
Mnuyahk - Covus, literally "guards," but it's used to mean checkmate
Ilremnu - Covus, imperative form of remember
Chyeh - Covus, student, mentee
Ik fspa - Krestnock, little frog/amphibian/water-creature
Viaehn - Covus, literally "disappear" with verb form twice, used as goodbye