Her part in the mission completed, Kali felt somewhat lost. Unwanted thoughts of the carnage below had intruded and distracted her even during the action, and being left purely to her own devices with a captive hostage and the uncomfortable company of Sleuth ensured that her nerves were not much damped. Loral, the one familiar in this ocean of uncertainty, leaving was the worst part. She was slightly unnerved by her growing dependence on the other quarian for comfort so soon after meeting him, without having shared even a word with him, but it was far eclipsed by her need for something solid among an ever-changing and unpredictable, dangerous situation. It was for home and home ideals that she was participating in this reckless venture; the faintest taste of it helped to keep her strong.

In an attempt to burn off some nervous energy, she kept shifting her position around the room - first remaining near Sleuth at the terminal, then pacing for a moment, then moving to press her back to the corner out-of-sight and out-of-mind and with the safety of being able to see the whole room and a solid guard at her back. The sounds of Mark and Jaerdi's rampage had long since faded, and the silence was profound - and try as she might, she could not break into that pervading, oppressive, charged silence with either the increasingly distressed Administrator or the enigmatic information broker. In the end, she found herself muttering at Sleuth to keep an eye on the hostage and heading for the door, frustrated with herself for letting her inexperience and nerves show but - as all people, human or quarian or turian - a slave to her innermost insecurities. 

The sight of the body made her pause a moment, but her irritation at herself allowed her to shrug it off, the hot emotion burning away the cold shock. Instead, she moved to stand opposite Loral, pointedly not looking at him by keeping even her visor turned down the corridor - keeping watch, quiet and professional, that's how she had to appear. She didn't much want to be left to her own thoughts, though. Thinking of the (relative) innocents Mark and Jaerdi were slaughtering would only shake her resolve, and she knew her will had to be iron to carry through any "greater good" tasks required of her. Thinking of her companions below, fighting and maybe dying, disturbed her too - not only for their deaths, but also in the consequences of their failure. Action - the external - can supercede the internal, brush it away like a cobweb. Even idle conversation was better than the tension of just [i]waiting[/i], and she felt easier trying with Loral than she had in the other room.

"How'd you end up out here, caught up in this?"