[video]

[indoctrinated]

[ the feed flickers once, twice, before it settles on Thisavrou's latest Turian resident. ]

I have heard of machine-gods that could harvest entire civilizations and render them into nothingness in nanoseconds, or even create a symbiotic relationship between machines and organics...but I have never heard of the likes of machinery that could resuscitate the dead.

Yet, I am led to believe the technology here is so highly advanced that it is as common as any other glitch in a program. Is that right?

[ here, Saren pauses, clearly disbelieving. ]

I seek more credible answers, which surely someone must have uncovered by now. Is there more to how we arrived here? What is known about our gracious hosts, is there information regarding them or their government?

Humans are known for their arrogance and non-compliance. I cannot imagine that all of you have been content to act as no better than cogs in a machine, submitting so that our gracious hosts could reap the benefits of your contribution.

Comments

[indoctrinated]

[What...why is there a strange human smiling at him.]

I'm not looking for a program. I was merely making a comparison.

What relationship do you have with Nihlus?

[Yeah, sorry Clu, Saren's a rude boy. He's just going to ignore everything else and not introduce himself.]

[a_perfect_end]

[Why do you look like a dead crazy Silicon Valley cowboy? He gets that a lot.

Just not usually from so far out of town.]

You made several. [Human conventions are dumb. The omission is filed, though.] Made it seem like we mattered for a second...Guess not.

So what are you after? Musings on your own existence are gonna wear real thin in here, believe me.

Gotta have a goal.

[Wow, unfamiliar Turian configuration, you sure jumped directly to the right User ID.

Still. He is kind of the only one here--odds of attribution marginally greater than 80%.]

...Friend of yours?

[indoctrinated]

We?

[Saren's not used to anyone smiling at him. It's unnerving and and makes him suspicious!]

I'm after any relevant information. I need to have some sort of knowledge about this place before I can set a goal.

[Saren's all business. Nihlus is the only Turian he knew was there so it kind of stood to reason Clu was talking about him. Didn't seem like other inhabitants were too used to Turian faces, either, so it seemed unlikely there were many around.]

No. Acquaintance.

[It actually took Saren a moment to figure out how to respond to that. He couldn't exactly call himself a colleague anymore (did they strip him of his Spectre status after he died?). He couldn't call himself a friend, either. Considering he shot him. It wasn't clear where they stood with each other yet.]

[a_perfect_end]

[The smile folds away like the wrapping paper it is, replaced with an even gaze and frank curiosity.]

Synthetics. [Sweep of the hand, indicating himself.] Machine life.

That is a very large category...

You missed most of the excitement. This is mostly townhomes in Future World, although there was an excellent demonstration of peak physical skill up at the Shock Box, not too long ago.

Some of us had raw hearts glued to our door. Mine was painted black--very entertaining.

Depends on what you're looking for, really; that's mostly gossip tier filler...I could assist you better with more data.

[Oh, that is an interesting pause.]

He's around, sure. Bet he'd love to hear from you.

[indoctrinated]

I've noticed there's a particular abundance of synthetics here. It is somewhat intriguing that the inhabitants don't seem to mind the integration.

[Saren spotted the slip of the act. Interesting how this one had more behaviorisms than the others.]

You identified as a program. I wonder why a program such as yourself would be interested in assisting me.

Are you a friend of Nihlus?

[a_perfect_end]

[Integr--that phrasing is not a comfort, prickles against the trunk line at the nape of his neck.

He may have miscalculated, and steeply.

Nothing additional friendliness won't cure.]

Sure! Oh man, you guys have been just great about it.

...More data is desired. Idiom: you and me both.

Well, now, that depends. Define: friend.

[He can feel it, his own reversion to a more mechanical speech pattern where the margins on the algorithms are thin; a sure sign of some stress, but only familiar to those with prior knowledge of the Grid.]

Man, I didn't catch your name.

[Gimme.]

[indoctrinated]

In that case, let me inquire. What data do you seek from me?

I suppose friend might be the wrong word. You're familiar with him. To what capacity?

I am Saren, Saren Arterius.