Black
"Absolutely not," Merta said, towering over the representative from BioWorks. Andie watched from the kitchen, kept there by a stern glance from her uncle who stood beside her.
To his credit, the man didn't look too overwhelmed by the fierce turian face looming over him. He cleared his throat, fingers gripping his black briefcase.
"With all due respect, uh, ma'am, Miss Shepard contacted us herself. Wouldn't it be prudent to consult with her wishes?"
"My niece isn't of age to make a decision like this, and as I'm sure you've looked up her recent history, she is no fit emotional state to leave home and have her brain cut into!"
"I assure you, we have the best medical and mental health professionals available and—"
"And another thing," Merta's resonant voice rose above the rep's. "You may think I'm ignorant when it comes to your species, but I've been doing my research. These implants you humans plug into your heads—L2s? Some of them are practically cripples."
The rep didn't immediately reply. When he did, the corporate tone was gone from his voice.
"The mistakes our… predecessors made with the L2 implants are what we are trying to avoid," he said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "In fact, we have recently developed a new, more advanced implant: the L3. Our alpha tests show great promise with none of the side-effects experienced by L2s. I can show you the results if you wish."
Merta looked ready to protest again, mandibles dropping to show her sharp teeth, but the rep held up a hand, open-palmed.
"How about a compromise? We need to continue to test the L3 implant. If our tests continue to show no danger to the subjects, and Miss Shepard still wishes to undergo the surgery, will you reconsider?"
Merta threw a glance at the kitchen. Andie knew she was remembering the conversation she'd had with her uncle. Her uncle had been mostly for the idea; it was the first thing Andie had shown interest in for weeks, but Merta's points about her mental health were not unfounded. The surgery and biotic program would take place off-planet—on Earth, in fact. Once she went, she would likely not be back for a long time. When she'd sent the email, she hadn't really been thinking of what that would entail. The thought of leaving her uncle and Merta for weeks, probably months, made her feel sick to her stomach. But at the same time, she still wanted the surgery. It was a chance to do something her father thought she would be able to do. A chance to never be useless and helpless again.
The rep stood to leave.
"I'll only say one last thing," he said, glancing at the kitchen. "If Miss Shepard still wishes to take us up on our offer, it might be advisable to enter into a physical exercise regimen. The healthier she is, the more easily she'll recover from surgery as well as acclimate to the implant." He nodded respectfully to Merta.
"Thank you for your time, ma'am. Here is my card." He tapped his omni-tool and Merta's lit up in response. "I will be sending the updates on our L3 tests as soon as I have them. Please feel free to ask me any questions." He directed this last sentence to Andie, nodding again, and left the home.