[Shepard, ever the glutton for risk, doesn't quite break off the connection, doesn't even shield until the last possible moment-- and even then... It's like the Prothean Cypher, alien and fiercely hot, boiling through with more information than one mind can handle all at once. Eventually, silence resumes.]
(Point of order: It's Commander, not chief.)
[Her mental voice is dry; wrong Navy, Sam. That's not a space rank, where she's from.]
I love it, please continue to write me novels
( Point of order: It's Commander, not chief. )
[Her mental voice is dry; wrong Navy, Sam. That's not a space rank, where she's from.]
( Get a move on, Anders. Tick Tock. )