It immediately feels safer, more secure, to have Garrus closer. Logically, that isn't true, and the analytical part of Shepard's mind that can never truly let go notes the open sight-lines of the planes, the potential of the sparse vegetation to provide visual cover, the...

Easy. Easy. Let it go.

"I agree," That they're needed, that they should get back in the fight, that Shepard should... or maybe that's selfish. Still, it doesn't change the fact that, for whatever reason, the galaxy really does seem to need the services of a mid-ranked Alliance CO, "...On both counts."

It's infuriating, really. She reads, does research, asks questions, and never really seems to get her head around it. And every time she does, it changes, or drops her in the middle of a weeks-long hallucinatory trip to the future, or... or something else. There has to be an underlying logic to this stupid planet, something to guide all the madness— but Shepard can't see it.

"Not exactly what I envisioned for a vacation-spot, I'll tell you that much."