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[Is it possibly for a mental voice to sound giddy? Because there's a distinct giddy tinge to By's thoughts, for all that his words come out with his normal, lazy, lightly Russian-accented drawl.]

Byerly Vorrutyer here. We're on Earth, pre-spaceflight, although someone who isn't me will need to get a better read on the actual date and location. Linguistically, it's a hodgepodge. I can hear archaic Russian, a whole host of Asiatic and Romance languages, and something else I can't quite place.

If you can "hear" this, check in. We need to know who we've got to work with.

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Ah. It's going to be one of those Jaunts, then.

And apparently I get to be all wrapped up in it. Great.

[Can you feel the sarcasm, Liara? You should totally be able to feel that sarcasm.]

Guess it's better than musical doors in the desert, though.

It wasn't that bad, after they stopped shooting at us.

Are you kidding? It was boring as hell.

[He knows he solved a couple of those puzzles just because he had nothing more interesting to do.]

I suppose we will have to agree to disagree. It's something I would have happily spent a year or more on, when I was younger.

[Before Shepard. Before there was a galaxy to help save, and her soul to sell to give that the best chance of succeeding.]

You're the scientist. I'm just the thug.

[Whenever he says that, it's with a little bit of irony, since obviously he's more than that-- but it's a running joke.]

[Her theatrical sigh is audible - a subtle sign that wherever she is, she's out of the way of any observation.]

The company I keep.

--I think I will be ecstatic if we do not find any railguns at the last minute this time. [Which they had in the shaft of the megaron; that much, she would certainly have shared.]

No, but we might find somethin' else.

All right, I gotta go. Vilari's comin' downstairs. Shit, I gotta figure out what her name is, now.

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