[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

[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.