Kotze couldn’t tell if the doctor was joking or not, but he chuckled regardless. With most species, the agent saw right through them; that skill went out the window when the subject had a mass of tentacles for a face and spoke directly into your mind. No, he couldn’t gather enough from body language alone either, so Varrus remained an enigma for now. That made him nervous. [color=silver]“What makes you think I ha-“[/color] Kotze started with a raised eyebrow, but was cut off by his own harsh grunt as the shoulder returned to its socket. As far as pain went, he’d had worse. When the limb slid back into place, he felt a sort of grim satisfaction, like a missing piece returned to the puzzle. If that were the case, though, Kotze was missing more than a few pieces. 

[color=silver]“Thank you, doctor. If I tried that myself, I’d be needing another one of these,”[/color] he said, nodding to his prosthetic. Kotze rotated his shoulder gingerly, the arm still significantly limited in mobility.  He relied heavily on his cybernetic, born with the curse of left-handedness, but going without the flesh wouldn’t do. Varrus displayed his collection of experimental drugs, arousing Kotze’s curiosity. This ship certainly didn’t skimp when it came to personnel, especially on a so-called suicide mission.

[color=silver]“You don’t have to convince me to be your guinea pig, Doctor Varrus,”[/color] he said with an easy smile, standing up lazily. [color=silver] “But I might take you up on the lessons. First one’s free of charge, though.”[/color] Kotze despised the thought of spending any more time in the medbay than he had to, but he couldn’t spend the next two weeks with the arm dangling limply by his side. A telepath poking around in his head was somehow even more unappealing, a trained interrogator no less, but learning to block psychic attacks would be invaluable. Then again, maybe he could just find a back-alley surgeon to splice some new tech into him, something that would mask his mental presence to telepaths. One more implant wouldn't hurt. Kotze wondered if the Illtihid could see the cracks spreading in his mind, or if the internal façade was as effective as his external one. No, he couldn’t trust the doctor yet. Hell, Kotze felt he'd spend the rest of his time aboard the ship avoiding him. [color=silver]“And I hate to rush you doctor, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. I think we’re missing breakfast,”[/color] he added, yet another smirk punctuating his sharp features. The mask never faded, even when he [i]knew[/i] the telepath could see through it. Perhaps he'd worn it too long, and it was simply part of him now. Fused on, like so many other bits and pieces of his body. He couldn't give a damn about breakfast, only escaping the small white room.  

[hider=OOC]@BKburke[/hider]