Confessions of the Heart [Elmira]

Tagged : Elmira | Words : 582 | Notes : NUFIN'.

"Love, love, I can feel your heartbeat..."

There was actually a reason - a poor reason - most of the other Cerberus scientists gave Coulson Pike a wide berth while he worked on his various and sundry projects involving alienkind. While Cole found idly singing lyrics to ancient songs from a much simpler day before the basic computer's invention relaxing and a means to better concentrate on the task laid out on a table before him, other scientists did not share his opinion of said singing. Thus, Cole worked in solitude, the others having disappeared for lunch, and he could genuinely sing as loudly as he wanted to as he worked on his current project - the open chest of a batarian, heart exposed for Cole to investigate its inner and outer workings. Cole did so from behind a harness to Cerberus' finest laser-based surgical equipment, singing his sweetest to the heart to convince it to reveal something of interest to him as his hands worked within the harness and his eyes remained plastered to the machine's projected image of the heart that floated above the dissected body, making subtle cuts and simulating stress here and there seemingly for his own entertainment. The passion of his singing increased. "Love, love! I can feel your heartbeat!"

Batarians were tricky bastards to beat. While most were not fully aware of their physiologies as they were the physiologies of the more common krogan mercenary or turian soldier, batarian warriors could typically match either of their more commonly fearsome-considered counterparts for resilience, and their weak points were not nearly as obvious. The plague on Omega from several months before had assaulted their respiratory systems at first glance, as the scientist Mordin Solus had assumed, but Cole had to wonder, after he'd found no obvious issues with the batarian respiratory system aside from small passages because batarians were ugly bastards with small noses, if the batarian heart did not face some sort of strain from that same plague. Small passages meant that the heart had to work harder to aid in blood respiration, and thus, Cole imagined that any flaws in the heart might spell doom for batarian over the course of a lifespan. A genetic issue with the heart might even prove devastating to the entire race. Unfortunately, Cole was yet to discover it - but he would sing to this heart all afternoon long if it produced anything worthwhile at all.

The door behind him pinged, but Cole did not budge - he only momentarily interrupted his singing. By his calculations, the chubbies who had headed off to lunch would not be nearly done stuffing their faces by now, so he doubted it was any of his fellow scientists returning. It could be someone informing him that he had a call or a message from the higher-ups or something else he did not remotely care about, so he kept on cutting his way through a gap he had made in the top of the heart across the room and spoke absent-mindedly. "If you're the secretary with the mile-long pair of legs, feel free to leave them on my desk. If not, I'm a very busy, highly important scientist who would never be caught acting unprofessionally. Also, you can leave whatever you have by the door and I'll have one of the lab-coated dogs fetch it." He stuck out his tongue in concentration, not thinking a thing of what he'd just said.