[Shepard is silent for a long, strange moment. She doesn't know what to think, or what to say. It's almost like quiet, in her head, impossible as that seems; the thoughts are just standing around, looking. Like at a movie.
Shepard has a brief, mad wish that Sam could have seen her world as she knew it, firsthand. The skyscrapers of Illium and the inverse skyline on Omega, the beauty of nebulae and-- and the people.
Would Thane have liked Sam? Surely he would. She wishes she could introduce him to Garrus, to Steve Cortez, to the whole of clan Urdnot. But it's impossible, and all those people might as well be dead for all she feels likely to see them again in this lifetime. Grief rolls back in, like rising bile.]
(You are so lucky I'm drunk right now.) [She is not drunk right now. She's been drinking, sure, but keeping up with the overactive scrubbers Cerberus gave her bloodstream is not a gentle task, nor a cheap one.] (You're a softie, you know that, Sam Wilson? You better hope your idealistic crap isn't contagious.)
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Shepard has a brief, mad wish that Sam could have seen her world as she knew it, firsthand. The skyscrapers of Illium and the inverse skyline on Omega, the beauty of nebulae and-- and the people.
Would Thane have liked Sam? Surely he would. She wishes she could introduce him to Garrus, to Steve Cortez, to the whole of clan Urdnot. But it's impossible, and all those people might as well be dead for all she feels likely to see them again in this lifetime. Grief rolls back in, like rising bile.]
( You are so lucky I'm drunk right now. ) [She is not drunk right now. She's been drinking, sure, but keeping up with the overactive scrubbers Cerberus gave her bloodstream is not a gentle task, nor a cheap one.] ( You're a softie, you know that, Sam Wilson? You better hope your idealistic crap isn't contagious. )
[She's already infected.]