"Her preferences don't come into it. It's just a lot of screwing around, is all," Shepard replies. There's nothing of softness, to her, in a swift and abrupt end; it's about practicalities. This kind of display, religious sentiment aside, had nothing to do with being practical and everything to do with frightening people. Same message as heads on a pike or bodies left to rot at the border: fuck with us, and this'll be you, "A bullet in the head solves a lot of problems."

But Shepard only resquares her shoulders, and sighs. It's done, at least this far. But then Jesper keeps going and she can't help the harsh little chuckle. In so many ways, those three are more worldly and anyone their age has the right to be, and in others... charmingly naive. That's why she keeps coming back to them, Shepard thinks; there's something worth protecting, there.

"For now," She tells him, shaking her head with grim satisfaction, "Give it time, kid. Prison isn't the kind of thing everybody survives, and I never met a jailer who wasn't corrupt."