It was hard to gauge her rescuer's reactions through the bulky armor and helmets but at least they hadn't blown her head off yet.
Jade thought that might be a good sign.
Rather than trying to press the team for a reply right away, Jade let them take their time to assess her, while at the same time studying the people before her. They were a quite varied group. She would have bet her right arm the one on the left, the one holding what looked like a shotgun in the general vicinity of her eyebrows, was a male. She'd never seen shoulders that broad on any woman – barring a few Olympic-level weightlifters she's shared a few drinks with in London a couple of years ago. The one in the center could be either an athletic woman or a slightly built man but the slight contouring of the chest plate had Jade leaning more toward "woman". On the right … everything about the tall figure was wrong. Too tall, too top heavy, too few digits on those long arms, weird misshapen helmet.
About the time Jade's mind was stuttering to a stop trying to figure out what kind of person could possibly fill out that bizarre armor, the one in the middle, apparently the one in charge of the operation, reached to hook her rifle on her back.
"Air Force, huh," She grunted as she removed her helmet, shaking chin-length red-brown hair out of her eyes. "You know they were decommissioned and rolled into the Alliance nearly 40 years ago, right?"
The others, taking their cue from the woman also lowered their weapons, but didn't stow them. The big one on the left did remove his helmet one-handed though, confirming Jade's suspicions as to his gender, before resuming a relaxed but watchful pose.
"Not really, but I figured something of the sort, considering I'm on a space station that seems to have played host to a number of different nationalities." In spite of the other woman's relaxed posture, Jade maintained her non-threatening posture. She didn't make it this far just to get ventilated by a gorilla with an itchy trigger finger. "Nations that wouldn't usually work together without something really impressive motivating them. Sure the Koreans and the Russkis have a history, but the French? That's a little hard to believe. "
The woman's brows furrowed in confusion at Jade's comment.
"Look," Jade sighed, suddenly exhausted by the events of the day. "I'd love to discuss the finer points of late 20th Century international political intrigues with you, but you sort of interrupted my ever so tasty lunch of unidentifiable paste with your firefight. You going to pull me out of this shithole or what?"
The redhead regarded Jade thoughtfully for a moment before speaking.
"Perhaps, but I want to know how you managed to get onto a space station that I know for a fact didn't have a living soul left on it the last time I was here." Her voice carried the hard edge of suspicion in it. "This place was filled with mechs and ghosts when my shuttle pulled out."
"I don't know for sure, but I suspect it has something to do with this." Jade reached around her back and the steroidasaurus lunged forward a step, bringing his weapon to bear on Jade's nose in a flash. The other, the one Jade had mentally named Mr. Impossible, had taken up a post by the door to keep watch for more trouble but he also twitched his long rifle back in her direction.
"Relax McLargeHuge," she said slowly pulling a datapad out of her waistband and handing it to the other woman. "I'm pretty sure these things are non lethal."
"That's the only thing I've been able to find so far in a language I can read. It's addressed to someone named Lawson and it details advances made in prototype technology for something they called 'Project Lazarus'." Something flickered across the redhead's face too fast for Jade to identify. "Looks like they were testing the early stuff on various subjects before passing them on to this Lawson. Apparently I was one of the subjects."
Jade sighed again. "I've been in cryo for over 150 years so I guess that meant I was the perfect candidate for this."
"I don't buy it," Steroidasaurus growled. "She's a plant commander. You're on a Cerberus base with no visible means of arrival and even wearing a Cerberus uniform, no way this is legit."
"I'm sorry man, my fucking Dress Blues are still at the cleaner so it was either this or wander around baretit," Jade ground out, her patience with this bullshit finally reaching its end. She took a calculated risk and breasted up to the jerk, belligerence written in every line of her face. "I dunno about you but I sort of think it's a bit chilly to be wandering around this tomb in the altogether. Maybe humanity has evolved a lower temperature tolerance, but I didn't survive the fucking cryogenic freezing and thawing process just to die of exposure six weeks after waking up on a goddamn ghost ship just to please your fucking sensibilities."
He looked like he was about to lay her out right then and there when the commander's voice cut through the hostility.
"Stand down Mr. Vega," She called, laying a hand on one beefy shoulder. "Ms. Harmon, I believe you, but the LT has a point. The Illusive Man has a tendency to set up traps for us to fall into."
"Fine," Jade turned to look the other woman straight in the eyes. "Put me in irons, throw me in the brig, interrogate me. I don't give a fuck how you deal with your suspicions, just get me the fuck out of here and I'll cooperate with whatever you ask."
She heard a sort of growling chirp and watched as the commander tilted her head as though listening. It took Jade a moment to realize that Mr. Impossible was speaking. The commander nodded as though it meant something to her.
"Garrus is right, I don't think it'll be necessary to restrain you, but this is not the place to be having this discussion." The commander looked at Jade. "Let's get you to the Normandy."