"You still don't get it, do you? You're not in charge of this mission. I am." Sawyer said, a smirk pulling up at the corner of his lips, crossing his arms behind his back and looking at the Cerberus woman in a white skin-tight outfit and the dark-skinned man garbed in a standard Cerberus uniform. "This is my ship. I decide when we go somewhere. I decide who we recruit. I decide who will be groundside. I decided who stays on this ship or who gets left on a remote planet. The Illusive Man may think he holds all the cards because he brought me back, but you have to learn that we do things my way, not a terrorist's way." The Cerberus woman opened her mouth to speak, presumably to defend Cerberus, and he held up a hand, his cobalt eyes slicing into her and her mouth shut immediately. "I don't give a flying pyjacks ass what you have to say. I know what I witnessed firsthand and I had to deliver the news, personally, to family members because of the sick and twisted shit Cerberus did. I don't trust Cerberus but I am willing to give you, as individuals, a chance for me to trust you. Dismissed."

Miranda Lawson, the leader of the Lazarus Project, acted as if she wanted to say something but instead strode off angrily towards the elevator, ignoring the red-headed woman standing near the Galaxy Map. Jacob Taylor, a biotic with semi-impressive skills but still lacking though he was a decent shot but he was no Garrus, hesitated for a moment. Shepard quirked a dark brow at him, a silent question and the dark man saluted.

"Sir, I just want to say that regardless of Cerberus' past history I won't let you down. I wasn't a part of what they did and I don't agree with it. It was wrong both ethically and morally. I figured you should know." Sawyer smiled him and clapped him on the shoulder in camaraderie.

"Glad to hear it. I'd be disappointed if I found out that you actively took part, willingly, in the horrors that I encountered. In any case, I need to get to know the ship and I need to pay Joker a visit. I'll find you later." Jacob tilted his head in acknowledgment and walked off towards what Sawyer presumed was the armory based off of the Intel he had received from the ships AI to whom the crew called EDI. He reserved judgment of it until he could read the information about the intrusive thing.

Joker turned around in his seat, a smile splitting his face. "Look at this, Shepard! Leather seats! It's my baby, better then new! The military may set the hardware standard on a first gen fuckin' frigate but this is civilian comfort sector by design. It fits me like a glove!" he exclaimed, rubbing the arms of his seat affectionately. The blue orb called EDI popped up.

"The reproduction was not intended to be perfect, Mister Moreau. Seamless improvements were made."

Joker frowned, his face contorting into a mix between angry and sad. Sawyer fought the urge to laugh, but at the seriousness of his expression he held back. "And there is the downside. Now it's got this thing I don't even wanna fuckin' talk about. It's like goddamn ship cancer. I liked the Normandy when she was beautiful and quiet," he moaned with a sigh, a nostalgic look gracing his sharp features.

"It's just a copy," Shepard sighed quietly. "There's nothing here that was even part of the real Normandy." Joker's eyes widened and his jaw fell open, an incredulous look of there ever was one.

"Hey, there's us! I have to take what I can fuckin' get. Don't worry, Shepard; you'll see. This will be better than the old days even if an AI is spying on us." Sawyer eyed him with what could only be described as a look of dubiousness. He pulled his lips back against his teeth, the dimples in his cheeks giving him a boyish look before he answered dryly.

"I hope so. I died." Joker rolled his eyes and turned his seat back around to helm the ship.

"Gah! You're such a downer," he tossed over his shoulder as Sawyer walked away shaking his head with a smile. It was good to have Joker aboard the Normandy. He was the only bright thing in Shepard's life at the moment given the fact that two years had passed for everyone he cared about.

He didn't remember much of an afterlife but every now and then snippets of his time between Heaven and where he was now would invade his memory, taking over his mind of their own accord. Maybe it wasn't Heaven but he liked to think of that way; it was peaceful, warm and it had been a bright, colorful place that he hadn't wanted to leave.

A bright figure had approached him as he had sat in a field, breathing in the scent of lavender and soaking up the warm rays of the sun. He had turned to it in curiosity, not recognizing the figure but the warmth and peaceful presence the figure emanated gave him cause to pause.

"Brian," the figure said, its voice deep, comforting and above all soft. It shifted so it could sit down next to him, crossing its legs in a similar fashion to his own position. "I've watched you for a very long time."

Without a doubt he knew that this figure, this presence, beside him was God, the Holy Ghost, the Trinity, the Alpha and Omega that transcended time, space and everything in between.

"Why? I'm no one special," he said, looking out over the field.

"But you are," God admonished. "You are the Savior of the Galaxy that I created. You are the Salvation for all of the life that I created." Sawyer shook his head and looked at the figure beside him.

"Then why? Why have you let the destruction of past civilizations happen?" God looked at him, tilting His head as He considered His words.

"It was part of My plan. You have always been a part of that plan. You, like my son and countless others, will lead the others into the battle that awaits. I cannot accompany you; My battle is still in the distant future. Know, my child, that your time is not over and you will be the Salvation to the ones you hold dear." Sawyer looked at Him questioningly before He placed His hand on his arm.

After that he had woken in a lab on a cold, hard, albeit old school science, table with Miranda yelling at him to grab his "weapon and armor". It had been disorienting to say the least, but he had to sort through the past, his transcendence into the afterlife and back to the present, much to his dismay. He was sure there were parts that he was missing but –

"Commander," the red head woman exclaimed, her happiness putting his thoughts on the back burner so to speak. She was cute with her short hair, apple green eyes and smooth skin. If most of the women on the shiny, new Normandy looked like her, he could get used to it; no doubt in his mind. He was a flesh and blood man after all, despite the minor hiccup of being dead. "Yeomen Kelly Chambers at your service, sir. I am your secretary mixed with the ship counselor and anything else may need." When she looked down in embarrassment at her outburst he let his eyes rake over her, taking in her slight form and the swell of her breasts beneath her Cerberus (-10 brownie points his sister, Jane, would have laughed with a wink; she was his alter ego despite how he tried to ignore her) uniform before she looked at him again and being the polite, he thought, man that he was he snapped his eyes up to hers.

"Yeomen? Isn't that a task better suited for a VI?" She shrugged her smile back in place, her white teeth bared in barely contained excitement.

"Perhaps, but I was handpicked by the Illusive Man himself," she puffed her chest out slightly as if she was proud of the fact. "My official role is to inform you of new messages, relay important messages and such but I'm mostly here to unofficially observe the crew and alert you to anything that might endanger the mission."

"So you're a psychiatrist? I don't really like people watching me that closely, Miss. Chambers," he said sternly. The last thing he needed was for someone to watch his every move and analyze his behavior. She shook her head quickly.

"I'm a Psychology major. My job is to gauge the reactions of the crew. If they seem like they are having doubts or dealing with personal problems that could have an adverse reaction to the mission then I am supposed to tell you. For example, if Joker – excuse me, Jeff – throws his hat down in anger whilst screaming at EDI and stalks off from his position at the helm then I contact you. I cannot interact with the crew as you would. I am here to simply listen to their problems, give them advice and point them in your direction."

That sounded reasonable even if a bit invasive, but it was something he would deal with until it grew out of hand.

If it grows out of hand.

Jane, you're still here? He could almost see her "Ike face" and forced himself to hide the smile that wanted to erupt on his face.

Of course! She exclaimed, as if it was direct insult to her. I'm your older sister. I'm here to bug and annoy you until the end of time, o' little brother of mine.

"Is there anything else I can help you with? You have like a thousand unread messages at your terminal." Kelly said, breaking into his thoughts. She tilted her attractive head towards his "private" terminal, giving him a coquettish smile that he, partially, wish to explore the meaning of further.

"That'll be all." He turned and walked a few paces, his index finger hovering over the "Enter" button that highlighted Councilor Anderson's message. His brow furrowed, his tongue slipping out to lick at the dryness of his bottom lip, with his pulse sped up past the point of normal for an average human.

You're not average, if you hadn't noticed; fucker. He rolled his eyes at his sister's attempt at dry humor.

You're not nearly as funny as Garrus.

Or hot. Damn, give me five minutes with that Turian and –

Seriously, Jane? I really don't wanna know this.

What?! He's fucking hot. Even you can't deny it. She laughed, the throaty sound echoing in his mind. He's tall, he's got that voice and he's just, well, fuckin' Garrus goddamn Vakarian.

He hit the button, effectively cutting off his dead sister's voice, his eyes flitting over the message from Councilor Anderson.

Shepard –

On the off chance that the rumors are true, and you actually are alive, I need you to come and talk to me on the Citadel. A lot has changed in the last two years. You put me on the Council, and it's only fair that you be allowed to speak for yourself about what we've been hearing.

Councilor David E. Anderson

Representative of Earth and her Colonies

Recognized as Admiral David Edward Anderson of the Alliance Navy.

Shit.

Looks as though we get to go to the Citadel!

Yippie-fucking-skippy.

Joker's right. You are a downer. Fuck it, go to Omega first to get Archangel then go see Anderson.

Good idea.

I'm always right. She drifted off into silence as he read the rest of his messages, haphazardly ignoring the ones from TIM. He didn't trust him and could care less what he had to say about anything. He also made a mental note to not wear the Kestral armor.

Given his luck, it was rigged to explode if he disobeyed an order.

Fucking Cerberus.