"What is all this?" Shepard gestures once, an abrupt, encompassing hand to indicate the room around them, the walls, the tech, the facility at large, "It's some kind of science facility, that's pretty obvious. And I thought I saw something about an AI core on my way in, but the decor is a little, uh..."

She's smart enough to know not to say 'primitive,' but Shepard still gropes for a moment. It's all natural materials, woven baskets and furs and animal bones. And odd bits of metal, all in plates, with wires coiled up like salvage next to burlap sacks— with the whole lot of it piled in ways that probably made sense to someone.

"...Tribal, I guess." Something about this reminds her of the Krogan, in that way; like survival had been put together from whatever worked, building the new apocalypse on the bones of the old, "It's interesting."