It is the morning of the 24th of December back on Aite, but here in Nos Astra the sun has nearly set. It's been nearly four days since the attack on her hotel room.
#IlliumHospital – August 27, 2020
Aylena has sent Gren her location: Lucen Medical Center, one of the many hospitals located deep within Nos Astra. He had not received an exact room number, but that should be enough information to bring him to the right building.
The hospital lobby is busy, as it also serves as the waiting room. There is a large open path between the door and the receptionist's desk, flanked by elaborate pillars leading up to a skylight. There is a queue in front of each of the receptionists, however.
Gren | When Gren received the message, he had sighed heavily. He knew it was coming, of course. Why wouldn't it? Aylena has this aura that just constantly attracts trouble, usually the violent kind. He had set down his omni-tool and itched the deep scar on his face in thought, wondering if he should drag himself across the galaxy again in his old age to go and see her. Less than an hour later, he had packed, suited up
and organised a flight to Illium. And now here he stood, a towering form of muscle, armour and weapons in a queue to try and find out where Aylena was staying in the most pompous hospital he had ever seen. He let out a heavy sigh that sounded more like two boulders being ground together and narrowed his eyes at the queue before him, trying to mentally will it to go faster.
A security guard, a dark-blue asari in a uniform bearing the hospital's emblem, emerges from one of four corridors leading out of the lobby to greet him. She scans his face through the visor on her right eye. "Gren," she addresses him. "Please come with me."
Gren blinks and squints the asari, leaning in close to examine the visor on her right eye. Normally he'd be suspicious of random security guards asking for him. It's usually a sign that he did something back in the day. Usually bad. However, given the context of the situation, he merely grunts and motions for her to lead the way. "I'm keeping my gun," he states simply, perhaps preemptively.
The visor blanks its content when examined closer, until a small green dot flashes in the corner. The asari takes a step back and begins leading the way towards the corridor to the right of the receptionist's desk. "The patient has approved your request," she says. "It will not be necessary, though. You can expect the highest standard of patient privacy and security here at Lucen Medical Center." The hallway is sterile,
with rows of closed doors on either side broken up by the occasional intersection; the excesses of the lobby's architecture is completely absent here. All doors are closed and without any form of labelling; in fact, the only signage around for restrooms and directions to the exit. They do not meet anyone in the corridors, but Gren might have noticed that most of the medical staff that's crossed the lobby are also
Gren nods his head in approval of keeping his gun. Which is quickly followed with a snort at the asari's claim. How many times has he heard that over his lifetime? He plods along, his heavy footfalls thudding against the sterile hallway, far louder than they really need to be. His eyes had drifted to every staff member in the lobby, squinting at the visors. Internal communications, perhaps? Maybe every asari here can
double as doctor and security guard? However, his attention quickly dissipates to that fact and instead his gaze falls straight ahead. "Quietest hospital I've seen," he grumbles.
The guard nods. "That it is," she said. "Our VI system is hard at work directing hallway traffic around armed guests." There is some activity in the parallel corridors, and sometimes they can see medical personnel cross intersections ahead of them. The security guard's visor flashes brief instructions as they walk along the halls until she comes to a stop by a door that looks just like any other. "Here we are," she
The door opens to reveal the hospital room, which is sterile and bright like the hallway leading to it. It has a small counter with a sink and cupboards full of medical equipment. There is a chair by the bedside that seems sturdy enough to hold his weight, but it wouldn't be very comfortable to sit on. There is a window on the far wall, but the blinds have been closed.
Aylena is awake when Gren enters the hospital room. She's lying in the bed, but the bed has been raised, which means she's able to see him without lifting her head. Her arms are over the covers. Multiple bandages cover her right arm, and the left is in a cast over her chest. Her face is partially obscured to cover up wounds. She is hooked up to a lot of equipment and there is an oxygen line under her nose. She
Gren can't help but be impressed at how well coordinated the hospital is. Nor can he exactly blame them for steering clear of him. He almost walks straight past the security guard when she stops, the simplicity and similarity of every door briefly throwing off his sense of perception. He gives the guard a curt nod and steps straight past her, squeezing his bulk through the doorway. Instinctively, the krogan assesses the
room, taking note of its layout and size. His eyes do eventually settle on Aylena and his eyes faintly narrow upon seeing the state that she is in. "You look like shit," he says, a small snort following it. He trundles over to her side and decides against sitting in the chair for now. He can make do with standing.
The door closes behind him, and he can hear the security guard continue on her way through the door.
Aylena gives a very faint nod. "This is not the latest fashion, I'll admit that," she says, looking and sounding pained as she speaks. "Thank you for coming, Gren. I would not have blamed you had you stayed put and discarded my message."
Gren shrugs his shoulders. "Eh, weren't going to do that." He idly walks around the room, eyes draw to the corners specifically to see if any cameras lingered or not. "You should probably fire whoever handles your security out here. They didn't clearly do a good job of keeping you safe." It might just slip under Aylena's radar, but for a moment Gren's voice seems to take on a much harder edge than normal, almost as if
he's angry. But his expression manages to keep that blessed krogan neutrality as he returns his focus to the wounded asari.
There is a small ceiling camera in the corner by the window. It's a bit hard to spot between a smoke detector and the top of the blinds.
Aylena snorts. "That would be myself," she said, "but after my risk assessment for this trip, I should really take that into consideration." She doesn't show any signs of having picked up on his anger, though her body language is currently very limited; and her tone of voice isn't much beyond flat and pained. "It was a mistake talking you out of coming along," she admits, "but there is no way of knowing how
Gren scoffs, giving her a look that most certainly agrees with her initial statement. "It was a mistake." He walks back over to her after spotting the camera, resting his hands on his hips as he eyes the state that she is in. "But I'm not going to rub your nose in it. Just happy you're alive," he says with a nod. "And I'm also not giving you a choice. I ain't leaving now. I'm half expecting them to try and flatten the
Aylena closes her eyes for a moment. "The gunship pilot is still unaccounted for," she says, "but her associates are detained pending trial and all their assets are either seized or frozen." She lets out a sigh, and tilts her head slightly to get a better look at the krogan. "It will be a while before the doctors can even estimate how long I'll be in here," she says, "Why are you doing this for me, Gren?"
Gren sighs and, finally, decides to sit on the single available chair in the room. It creaks, despite its sturdy build and it takes the old krogan a few moments to adjust himself into a somewhat comfortable position. He scratches the scar on his face and gains a somewhat thoughtful look. Eventually, he answers. "It's like I said before you left Aite. I'm old. I have few friends. Most that I had are either dead or no longer
friends." He shrugs. "That's why I'm doing this. You're a friend. I look after my friends." He then pauses and adds, "Plus the drinks your bar serves ain't that bad either. Better to keep on your sweet side so I don't get banned from there."
Aylena is quiet for a moment in comteplation. The medication also has her in a bit of a fog. "Right," she says. "You weren't any younger when you first set foot in the Miner's Respite, either." She lets out a cough and clears her throat, but she doesn't say anything else for the time being.
Gren barks out a laugh at that. "Hah! Can't argue with that." He falls silent for a moment, giving Aylena a moment as she settles herself. "You thirsty?" He eventually offers, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Or are they doing that through one of those tubes?" He gestures idly to the medical equipment. "Never been hooked up to one of those. Perks of being krogan. We heal fast."
Aylena nods. "The machines have that covered," she says. "In fact, they're doing almost everything right now." She takes a deep breath. "Keep getting in my trouble, and it'll be your first time some day too," she says in the same flat, pained tone as everything else she's said. "Do you still have your spare parts on standby?"
Gren nods, eyeing up the machines. Not bad. "Don't get too reliant on them. It'll make you soft. And soft is weakness." He then glances to her with a snort and a shake of his head. "Won't be a first time. I'll either lay down in a room for a month with a crate of ryncol or I'll be dead. No in between." He does, however, gain a small frown on his face and a look of focus, as if he's trying to recall. "Spare parts?"
Aylena tilts her head slightly further towards him. "I meant your redundant organs," she says. "You wouldn't need this equipment if you have a second set of everything ready to pick up the pieces." She moves her head back a less strenous angle, keeping the krogran in the corner of her uncovered eye. "I don't plan on staying plugged in for long," she says. "Once the urgent procedures are done, and they've
Gren makes a noise of understanding and smirks. "I have a few left." He leans back on the chair, causing it to really strain against his bulk. Any further and it might genuinely collapse at this point. However, he pays it no mind and just tilts his head faintly, tapping a finger against his plated arm. "After the trail. How long do you suppose that'll take anyhow?"