[ Mordin's been peripherally aware of the turian they call Archangel for some time now—mostly because he's usually one who ends up with various mercs bleeding and beating down his door. Unfortunately for them, Mordin's long left the business of playing nice, and at this point he's made it perfectly, dangerously clear that he will not be intimidated into compliance. Suffice it to say that Mordin's become a fan of Archangel's work. Enough of a fan, in fact, that small portions of the last months' stock of medi-gel have been known to find their way into his team's hands.

So it was probably only a matter of time before Archangel himself found his way here. Friendly territory.

As soon as one of his aides shows the bleeding turian into his exam room, he knows. Tells Daniel to attend to the next few patients—it's late in Omega's manufactured night cycle, which usually means a merciful lull—and seals the door behind him. ]

Remove armor, take seat quickly. Heard gunfire nearby; Tempest-type, five-round burst. Guessing Eclipse. Marked increase in activity lately, suspect change in leadership structure. Direct hit? [ A pause for breath. ] Did the bullet pass through?