While we'd been marking time and exploring various systems for resources with which to make the Normandy as strong as she could be, Jacob had been patiently testing and investigating...for weeks…the guns we'd picked up on the Collector ship. He was definitely thorough, though I suppose he didn't have much else to do. After we returned to the SR-2 he invited me to the armory to hear the results. Though it looked impressive, the sniper rifle simply couldn't outperform my Viper, the only gun I'd ever wanted to tuck into bed with me like a teddy bear. I love that thing. We played around in the shooting range for a while so that I could get a feel for how each of them handled. I asked Jacob to give the Collector sniper he'd named Widow to our resident widower, the Claymore shotgun to Grunt, and to keep the light machine gun for himself. I figured I could throw a dog a bone after all of his diligent (and probably quite enjoyable) work.

I headed for the CIC. Naturally Yeoman Chambers could not contain her enthusiasm over the state of my mail and implored me to open the messages at once. Where did that girl get her energy? All of that wiggling and eyelash batting wore me out and I was just watching. I turned to my so-called private terminal and loaded my in-box. TIM had been busy while I'd been wallowing in nostalgia. He'd sent not only a message asking me to ride to Tali's rescue, again, but a note that he needed to talk to me. He hadn't contacted me since the Collector ship argument but it looked like he was back to business as usual: no useful details, no relevant analyses, no polite requests. Sending Joker a request to turn back toward The Citadel, making whatever stops Mordin still needed for raw materials along the way, I headed for the holo chamber to entangle myself with TIM's quantums once again.

As ever, TIM had been keeping secrets from me. It seems Cerberus had lost track of a team of scientists working on what my esteemed colleague chose to call a dead Reaper orbiting a brown dwarf in the Hawking Eta cluster. Instead of responding immediately to this little revelation I cast my mind back to any reports of mysterious disappearances in the Thorne system so that I could accuse him of having a hand in them. Unfortunately I couldn't think of any but the moments I took to cool down allowed me to avoid verbally decapitating the man. Had I been a cat I'd have been hissing the whole time. Luckily I could restrain myself a bit more than that, though it was a near thing. I hoped that my hair was long enough to hide my hackles, because those had definitely risen.

"A dead Reaper," I said as flatly as I could manage. "You've had a team on a Reaper for months and are somehow surprised that they've stopped reporting." For what kind of moron do you take me, asshole? I thought. Either this was another set-up or we'd be heading into real danger this time. My old team had blown Sovereign to smithereens and I still wouldn't trust the debris to stay still in large piles. Now he wanted to send me and my team into a mind-controlling rogue AI the size of a large colony.

"Look, Shepard," he responded. "This didn't affect you until you were ready to head for the Omega-4 relay. The team has been gathering data on the Reapers and their technology. We lost communication with them but that's not why we're sending you there. You need the IFF from the Reaper to get activate the relay. That's why I'm sending you now."

Another deep breath failed entirely to calm me. "Why the hell would you station people on a freaking Reaper, TIM? Did you completely miss the indoctrination part of my reports to the Alliance and the Council?" I shook my head. "Wasn't there an IFF on the Collector ship we could have gotten while we were already…freaking…there? Or did you suppose that ship just hid on this side of the relay and never went to their freaking base?" I heard my voice rising despite my best efforts. This was a signature Cerberus move and I couldn't believe I was surprised, but there it was. I reined myself in as best I could. "Never mind," I continued with a dismissive gesture, "it's not like I can change it now. Do you have anything more helpful to add, any useful information your now-cyborg-zombie team shared before their minds were turned against all life in the galaxy?" I shut my mouth abruptly, knowing how quickly sarcasm can seize a simple sentence and make it counterproductive. I really did need any information he had.

"We're going to need the technology on that ship to fight the Reapers, Shepard," TIM said, calm as ever though his mood star had shifted toward red. "Or have you forgotten that they're coming?"

I ground my teeth. "Just give me the damned data and coordinates, TIM." How could one person who barely knew me find every button and push them all so casually? He must lie awake at night thinking of ways to make me completely lose my cool. I wanted to stamp my feet and rant about his arrogance but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "We both know I'm going so cut the cute and let us get on with it."

The asshole's stupid star had faded to cool, confident blue by then. He chuckled contentedly and touched the screen on the arm of his chair. "Sent, Shepard. Good luck." Then he closed the connection. I immediately decided that we needed a TIM doll that I could dismember after conversations like that and a soundproof room in which to do so. It would be immensely satisfying to rip him limb from limb, stuffed version or not, screaming all the while. Barring that, I went straight to the shooting range and wasted a dozen clips blowing holes in a hologram of the man before I dared to speak to anyone else on the Normandy.

No sooner had I emerged from my therapy session than I ran into Jacob. He explained that he'd gotten a mysterious e-mail notifying him that the ship on which his father had disappeared ten years earlier had been found. Naturally, it weighed on his mind and he wondered if I might be willing to swing by and check it out for him. "Sure," I said, trying to sound far less grouchy and inconvenienced than I felt. "We'll work it in." He did look awfully distracted. I may not be his best friend but if he was going to do us any good in the long run I'd have to get this off his mind. I needed my weapons in tip-top shape and I suspected it would take more than my normal team of three to mop up an entire station, if that's what lay on the other side of the O-4 relay. It wasn't like the missing team in the derelict Reaper was going anywhere. "But we're still going to The Citadel first." I needed me some Kaidan.

Joker was normally pretty good about letting me know where we were but he hadn't interrupted me in more than two hours. He'd gotten adept and reading my moods and knowing when to stay out of the line of fire. Sure enough, hearing my tone with Jacob he decided it was time to give me a status update. "We're heading for the relay, Commander, and should be within sight of the Citadel by 0500 hours."

This cheered me immensely, as he must have known it would. I remembered Kaidan's box, hidden down in the cargo area, and decided that I'd done enough group business for one day. I headed for the mess area and began searching for the panel behind which Garrus said he'd hidden it. I snickered at the idea that I was hunting for Kaidan's package right out in the open, much as I'm sure my turian pal had intended, but I was aware of the people getting meals from Gardner behind me and tried to appear nonchalant. Finally one of the seams between the wall panels split beneath my fingers and I spied a box tucked in among the supplies. I did a tiny happy dance, unable to suppress my excitement entirely. Kaidan had never gotten a present for me before and I could hardly wait to see what it was. I pulled it out of the cubby and closed the door, smiling in anticipation. It wasn't until I turned around that I remembered the dozen or so crew milling around the mess. I do believe all of them were staring at me. I cleared my throat and straightened my face, trying to think of what I could possibly be so excited about finding in a janitor's closet. "Fabric softener," I said, and walked off to the elevator. Let them make of that what they would.