"Stop worrying, Miranda. You're still the prettiest," Shepard said, trying and failing to hide how she rolled her eyes. "I promise."

"Shepard, that is not the issue," Miranda huffed. Officially, the two had not been on good terms since Pragia, but apparently they were both looking to make things a little worse - though it was unclear just who had a valid point and who was spoiling for a fight. Jacob wisely stood back as the two women circled each other around the communications room table.

"Well then, what is the issue?"

"You just released a - a powerful biotic who we know nothing about onto the ship! And granted him full access to our records on the crew! He's not even from any known human colony - there are hundreds of reasons to have kept him in stasis - hundreds looking at cross-contamination alone -"

Shepard shrugged. "EDI says he's only a little fleabitten."

Miranda spluttered at this as the AI helpfully spoke up. "It appears what was mis-identified as infection is actually a symbiotic relationship. The organelles appear to enhance biotic power. Mordin will have further analysis soon."

"Besides," Shepard said quickly, cutting Miranda off, "I figured if I gave Jack and Grunt a chance, it's only fair that I do the same for him." She paused a moment as if realizing that this was perhaps not the wisest life strategy. "And anyway, it's like Grunt said, reach out with one hand, hold a gun in the other. He only uses some sort of laser-sword. There's no way that he could land a scratch on any of us without being gunned down first. So what's he going to do?" She laughed, gesturing as she mockingly changed the tone of her voice. "Oooh, better be careful, he might run with that thing and put someone's eye out. ...As long as we keep him away from the weapons locker, it'll be fine, I'm sure."

"A person of skill will always find a way," Miranda said with a small sniff. "Just because he doesn't have a conventional weapon doesn't mean he's not dangerous. I once killed a man with a pair of chopsticks when I was undercover on a Cerberus operation."

Shepard blinked slowly. "You what?"

"A pair of chopsticks. Separate, then through the eyes. It's very easy, really."

Jacob finally spoke up. "It's true, I was there."

Shepard paused to run a hand through her short hair, blinking rapidly. "Well. Huh. Um. Keep him away from the weapons locker and kitchen implements, then. Otherwise, leave him alone. Kelly's going to talk to him a little, but he probably needs some time to adjust and figure out where the hell he is. His access to our records stays. You're to treat him with respect - but keep your distance, for now. Dismissed."


"...So it's really true?"

"Hm?"

Joker looked over his shoulder at Shepard half a second before going back to looking at the screen. "That new memo that was just sent out, about the new kid. It's full emergency lockdown if he goes for the weapons locker or if we see him with a spatula?"

"Well, of course," Shepard said nonchalantly, leaning an elbow on Joker's chair while enjoying the view of space out before them. "It'd be a shame to be remembered as 'that woman Cerberus spent fifteen gazillion credits putting back together who died of a spork to the face'."

They exchanged a quick glance - just enough for Joker to see how she was smiling - before they both lapsed into quiet laughter. She patted at the back of his chair as she looked up to see Kelly Chambers' dim reflection in the window. "I'll be back later, Joker."

"Seeya, Commander."

She turned to greet Kelly with a smile. "Walk with me a little," Shepard said, gesturing. "I'm going to guess from that look on your face things didn't go so great."

"Not exactly," Kelly admitted nervously. "I don't want to make a judgment that's too hasty, Commander. I don't think I'm really fully qualified to deal with the, uh, entire situation. But..." As they walked across the bridge to the privacy of the communications room, Kelly relaxed slightly. "Do you know the old joke about heaven and hell, Shepard? About how in heaven, all the lovers are Asari, all the government is Turian..."

"But in hell all the lovers are Volus and all the cooks are Vorcha and so on, yeah, I know that one."

"Well." Kelly drew in a sharp breath through her teeth, clasping her hands in front of her. "Vader is... like hell in that joke. All the worst qualities of the crew that I've seen so far. As angry as Jack, as violent as Grunt... Though he is slightly easier to talk to than Grunt."

"Slightly easier to talk to than a krogan."

"Yes."

"That's the best thing you can say about him."

There was a long pause as Kelly looked up as if trying to see a better quality that she could pull out of the air. "...Yes," she finally answered.

Shepard paused to pinch at the bridge of her nose, covering her face with her hands momentarily to quietly mouth several choice curses. Sighing, she brought her hands down to lean against the table. "Right. Okay. That's good to know. What else did you find out?"

"Not much," Kelly admitted. "I don't think he's quite used to talking. I think it's a good sign that he was willing to talk with me, though, I got the impression that was somewhat novel for him, even if he was more interested in learning about my perspective on the crew and our mission. He seems very attached to the pieces of old armor that came with him, especially the mask. It's very Jungian, in a way..."

"Jungian?" Shepard gave a half-wince. "I remember that name from some history course - maybe. You aren't going to start telling me all about how he wants to bang his mom and kill his dad, right?"

"No, no, that's Freud. But now that you mention it..."

"Nevermind," Shepard said quickly, waving a hand. "So, do you think he's going to be a problem?"

Kelly's mouth barely opened, lips parted and tongue resting pressed against the back of her teeth, as she paused on the very cusp of saying something to think. "I... I'm not sure." She gave a small, flustered sigh. "I think he's following an internal code, and following it strictly - he reminds me of Samara, sometimes, in that way. But I have no idea what that code is. I don't think he even really knows what it is, most of the time - or at the very least, he's had some base assumptions recently shaken. And it's not just changing his world-view because of the change in setting, being here on the Normandy, either."

Shepard's fingernails tapped gently against the table's flat top as she thought this over. "So what you're saying is that he can really go either way, and you just don't know yet?"

"More or less, yes."

Shepard let her head drop before she mumbled another curse underneath her breath.