Jane pressed the button to take her to the lab as her other hand pops the earbud back into her ear, One Broken Heart for Sale coming on from the portable player in her back pocket. Though she doesn't enjoy the late nights in the lab running the tests and charting data for Doctors Harper and Lawson, it does give her a chance to let The King blare loudly through her earphones without having to worry about any disproving looks or 'professionals don't dance to music while there's work to be done.'
Humming to the song, she takes a sip of her energy drink, her lips puckering slightly around the tartness that always happens to give her a shock, and then takes a bit from the cherry twist candy she managed to find in the mess hall machine on the ground level. At least she never played Elvis through the little radio she had hidden in her locker while the two older men were around and the only other person in the lab didn't seem to mind the music either.
Although, she could be quite certain if it did. It was an alien, after all, but it never acted different when she turned the radio up. In fact, it didn't do much of anything besides sit there and sometimes watch her make a fool of herself dancing like a fool or being an absolute clutz whenever she accidently knocked something over on her long nights.
The elevator finally makes it to the 42nd level of the basements and she steps out and heads to the lab. With her hands full, she has to clamp the long string of red candy in her lips to free her hand to input her access code and swipe her badge, but she manages without spilling her drink or dropping the rest of her food stash from the crook of her elbows.
The door slides open and the lights turn on from the sensors detecting her entrance, showing her the bright walls of the large room she's called home. "Hello, 575," she says cheerily around a bite of candy and a wave at the silver alien behind the thick, shatter-proof glass.
It doesn't respond much past a flicker of the parts of its anatomy around its mouth that Jane can't quite decide calling between jowls or mandibles and following her movement across the room with its head. She takes that reaction for greeting enough and lays the bag of remaining cherry twists and unopened water on the counter before going to check the samples she left analyzing for the past two hours already.Still no results, she thinks with a sigh at the still running evaluations of the swabs she was told to take of 575's armor.
Armor was the best word for it, as it was heavy and definitely meant to protect the wearing from harm, but it wasn't quite metal. At least, not any combination of metal that's ever been used on Earth, so it just aided to the whole alien from another planet theory. She didn't understand why 575 even wore the heavy pieces because it looked like it was made of armor on its own, even if they couldn't test it until they received clearance from General Hackett to examine it. As it was now, they were absolutely not allowed to touch the creature, let alone take samples, and it was dumb luck that Dr. Harper had managed to convince the stiff backed General into allowing it in the same room, even if it was keep behind a glass wall.
So here she was trying to get as much information as her bosses irrationally demanded – where is it from? Why is it here? Is it dangerous? Can it speak? – from swabs of its equipment and coming up blank. Giving up trying to will the computer to save her the headache of upset bosses tomorrow, she heads to her radio and hooks up her radio to the speakers to let The King's croon soothe her frustrations.
She bobs her head to the music, taking another bite, and laughs when 575 tilts its head to the side like a dog in confusion at her when she shakes her hips to the beat. Giving into her childlike enjoyment of the music, she grabs her water bottle and holds it to her lips, pretending to sing into it. The gray shape watching her straightens up, but she knows she isn't imagining the look of sheer confusion on its face, the little flaps on its mouth quivering in and out.
She laughs at the look on its face, finding its befuddlement at the odd little human absolutely adorable and completely at odds to the heavy weapons and armor the soldiers strip off of it, and uncaps her bottle of water. She takes a drink to quench her parched throat and makes a big smack when she pulls the bottle from her lips, but 575's staring eyes draws her attention.
"You okay, 575?" she asks with a raised brow, not sure what it wants when it shifts closer to the window and stops almost pressed up against it. "Am I bothering you?"
She watches its eyes –blue, they're a light blue, almost silver – from their positions separated by only a handful of meters and sees it shift from her own eyes and down. Like sudden realization, she gasps and holds the bottle up. "You want water?" She holds the bottle forward to cement her question and points a finger to it.
Silvery-blue eyes switch from her own to the bottle in her hand before it slowly raises a hand and point a single finger of its odd three-fingered hand at the water through the glass. She smiles giddily and nearly bounds to the glass before stopping herself and searching for something to give 575 some water. She knows there's a tub of water in its enclosure that feeds from a hose in the wall and runs on a sensor, but none of them have seen it drink with its odd shaped mouth, so maybe it needs help.
She finds a thin, oblong tray with tall walls and pours some of her water in it before laying her bottle on the counter with the rest of her forgotten snacks. Forcing her body to limit its over-excited bouncing, she goes to the glass wall and crouches to her knees. 575 follows her and crouches down on its side of the barrier, but doesn't proceed further, almost seeming to wait for her to continue. The glass wall doesn't come completely to the ground in some places to offer slots to slide items under – this chamber was for some kind of isolation experiments that the base ended up removing everything but the single door that has since been locked and sealed.
"Easy, easy, 575," she says softly, soothingly as she places the tray in the gap, trying to keep her fingers out from 575's side in case it suddenly attacks in her in her complacency. It doesn't move, surprisingly, but she doesn't risk it as she pull a pen from her jacket pocket and nudges it the rest of the way through.
When she pulls the pen back and rests on her heels, 575 finally moves, taking the tray of offered water. It looks at the tray a moment, spinning it a bit in its hands almost as if its thinking – which she is starting to think it can do if the earlier pointing was any proof – before it turns it, short side towards its body, and raises it to its mouth. She gasps, pulling its attention, and she watches in astonishment as 575 tips the tray against its flat mouth and drinks, the tan skin of its neck constricting and wavering as it swallows.
"Holy crap," she says after she forces her jaw back up off the floor. 575 puts the tray down, it completely drained of liquid, and passes it back under the wall in what she thinks is probably a request for more. "Yeah, sure. More." She bolts to her feet and runs back to her bottle, bringing it back in shaking hands.
I'm actually communicating with it! She exclaims to herself as they repeat the process until her entire bottle is drained. And 575 can use tools! This is amazing! Holy crap, holy fucking crap.
As if her day could get any more unbelievable, when her water is drained, 575 stands from it crouch and makes its way to the tub of water they had set up for it at first. She stretches over to get a better angle and practice squeels when she sees the shocking sight of the alien dipping the tray into the tub and bringing water up to its mouth to drink.
They knew their extraterrestrial visitor was intelligent, how could it not be with the armor, weaponry, and obvious capability to travel through space, but they never managed to communicate and it never showed signs of anything beyond just cooperating with their nonverbal commands. Now, she almost wonders if it knows what they're trying to do and is just playing them for a bunch of fools. Either way, it's talking to her and that's good enough for her to overlook everything else.
"I guess you've been dying of thirst this whole time, huh?" 575 looks over and blinks, but she takes it as a good enough response. "I never would have thought you can't drink from there, but I guess it makes sense." She runs her fingers along her cheeks as she thinks about how the alien seems to have nothing between its teeth and those weird flapping pieces. "I guess that's our bad, buddy."
The gray figure returns to the wall and crouches, sliding the tray under the wall, but she shakes her head. "No, no, keep it." She presses it back with a finger and 575 tilts a head. "You need to drink whenever you're thirsty, not just when I'm around."
It takes a moment, but it must understand at least partially as 575 takes the tray in its large hand – something she just realized could probably wrap around her neck with overlap – and moves further into its enclosure. It looks at the room around it, its spiked head swiveling around, before it moves towards the bedding they left for it that it formed into a big nest.
It actually hides the drinking tray and Jane can't help but lower her brows in confusion. It's almost as if 575 doesn't want anyone to find it and she doesn't know if it's just a way of safekeeping or a means of hiding it from discovery. It's certainly a question for a day they actually manage to get the creature talking – if that ever happens – so she decides to let it go and see where things take her now that she's just been a part of the most remarkable event in her entire life.
It's been three days since his ship crashed in the middle of a desert, somewhere on this spirits-forsaken planet.
The inhabitants of this planet were clearly intelligent but definitely hostile towards him.
Three days of sitting in this damned glassbox, monitored the whole time, without any food or water. He couldn't sort it all out, everything looked so weird. His room was sparsely equipped with nothing more than an uncomfortable bunk and a toilet, which took him some time to figure out to use.
He had tried to sleep in the bed, well at least to relax, but it was way too hard for his taste. He had built himself a poor imitation of a Turian bed, with the few pieces of bedding, shoved together to lay upon them. But still more than a few minutes of restless sleep a day was all he could get. Resulting in constant headache and pain in his back.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he stood up from the bed, where he tried to spend as little time of his monotone days as possible. He stretched his back, letting his vertebras pop, drawing a sigh of relief. Determined to do something against his back pain, he laid down on the cool concrete floor, making some sit-ups.
Up. A white medium sized lab.
Down. A grey concrete ceiling.
Up. A white lab.
Down. Grey concrete.
Up. White.
Down. Grey.
Apart of the humans, that was the only thing his day contained. Grey and White.
He felt his plates started to itch, which just happens when his stress level. And here he hasn't got much to ease it, so he rushed between the bed and the wall getting nervous. Garrus started to do some shadow boxing, knowing that it wouldnt work. A couple of minutes went by, some people in white medical scrubs walking by and stopping to watch him a bit. As he thought, shadow boxing didnt ease much of his stress, so he started to punch the wall. Feeling the slight pain in his hands helped as he was performing some of his Turian Kata's.
They took almost everything from him, stripping his weapons was only the first step. As soon as he had surrendered to them, they referred to themself as 'humans', they took away his armor. Among Turians it was common to walk around naked. Having natural plating for protection was enough most of the time. Now he felt a bit naked.
The most important for him was that they had no clue about his omni-tool, which left him a short ranged melee weapon if necessary and more important his translator. As he was able to understand all of what they said he quickly figured out that most of them were xenophobic assholes, cursing at him, calling him an abomination. Some suggested to just kill him, some others just made fun of him, while he stood their pretending to don't understand what they were saying.
He had lost track of time, what can happen pretty fast if you have no indicators like the sun. The only thing that at least showed the daytime was the shift change, well assuming that more scientists mean day and fewer meant night.
Most of the scientists were already gone so he assumed that shift change was just about to happen what means he had a few minutes just to himself, with no glaring light and staring eyes. Time for a much needed nap. He sat down on the bunk, shoving the white sheets away as he leaned back against the cool wall.
At least it's not cold in here
He sighed.
Turian's don't really need much sleep, he could work for over 5 days without sleep, but his body had to pay a price for the crash, leaving him more exhausted than he normally would be.
He dozed off into a dreamless, state of slight recovery.
Swoosh…
He blinked
New shift arrived
With an almost inaudible buzz the lights in the lab room his cell was in, came to live.
He could hear what happened out there, for his cell window, even though it was 1.5 inches thick, it wouldn't close the cell completely, letting again around 1.5 inches free on the bottom of it. He doesn't really know why, maybe a constructional flaw.
Thanks to his predatory senses he could hear something that sounded like a rhythmic humming.
Jane
He recalled her name from hearing that some of the older daughter often shouted it out, or making fun of her. Calling her a 'Geek'. He doesn't know what that meant, but she was the only one down here, treating him good, being friendly and talking to him. He liked her, she wasn't pretending to be superior.
She walked into the lab, looking in his direction. 'Hello, 575' she greeted him. This stupid named made his mandible flicker in amusement. He slightly shook his head but she had turned away from him again.
He flexed his throat as he swallowed dryly, almost painful. He had to get something to drink, he knew that but he wasn't sure how to figure that out. He had that weird looking thing in his cell, which he was sure would give him water, but with his facial anatomy there was no way he could use it.
He watched her, still her back pointing in his direction. Suddenly that odd music came again, she referred to it as 'the King'. Poor Kingdom was all he could think of.
Spirits no… he tilted his head in confusion and amusement as he watched her dance. Well at least he thought that this was supposed to be dancing. Either that or a really bad seizure. He heard her laugh, he liked that sound. It sounded like the laughter of an Asari but not so arrogant.
As she pulled out a water bottle, he couldn't help but stare at it.
Spirits please let her understand what I want.
His eyes never left the bottle, staring at it. Almost as if his mind could drink the water. He could almost feel the cool, wet sensation in his dry mouth.
A low rumble erupted from his chest. Garrus hoped she hadn't heard it, making her afraid of him was the last thing he wanted. 'You want water?' she hold the bottle in his direction pointing at it. His chest rumbled as he saw that he understood.
He pointed his talon at the bottle, purring silently, flicking out a mandible in anticipation.
She was clearly looking for something, and Garrus never took his eyes from her.
She stopped and returned to him with, what is that? A trey?
He purred, thanking her silently with his subharmonics, since he knew that humans can't hear them. Garrus followed her motion, not taking his eyes of hers. He knelt down on his side of the cell, watching every move of her, how easy it was for her to bend down. Comes with being squishy I guess...His mandible flared slightly. She seemed like an Asari but more realistic, more natural to him. He reached for the trey, unwillingly letting out a low and short rumble. He saw that she quirked her eyebrows at that, smiling a bit. Motionless, Garrus sat there, wondering what she might think. The silence was about to become uncomfortable, so he choose to break that moment, to take a desperately needed sip of water. He drunk the whole water on the tray in one huge sip and shoved the tray back, hoping she understood that he wanted more water. She made a surprised face 'Yeah, sure. more.' She almost fell down as she hurried to get her bottle to give him more. The trey returned to him.
The second sip was as refreshing as the first one and as he had downed the he refilled it immediately at this strange aparature at his wall. With both mandibles flared in a smile and a purr in his throat he turned around.
He drank enough water to last for a longer time, and knelt down to give her the tray back. She made an adverse gesture 'No, no, keep it. You need to drink water whenever you're thirsty. Not just when I'm around.' He was baffled by her kindness. Not even the advance Councilraces would treat a new Species with that respect as this human did. Another purr left his throat. He would hide this tray, if necessary defend it with his life. It was more than just a device to help him get water, it was a gesture of her kindness. He looked around the sparsely equipped cell.
It didn't took him long to figure out that the best place to hide it is his bed. So he shoved it under the matrass hoping it would make for a good hideout. He watched her as she returned back to her work, constantly looking back to him.
Garrus knew that this woman was his best and most likely only chance to get of here, without killing everyone. The council would soon list him as M.I.A and sending another Spectre to inspect the relay and maybe find him in the process. If the council would do, what he expected them to do, they would send his mentor and friend Saren Arterius, which would end in a giant shootout and a lot of dead humans. Saren would do anything to get him out of there. Of course he would try to bargain at first but if the negotiations would fail, he would return with the full power of the turian hierarchy, most likely wiping this species out. Garrus wouldn't let that happen so he has to think about how to become friends with the apparently only friendly human.