[Somewhere in the media room, there is a flare of blue-violet light and the sound of rending metal and shattering glass, as Liara vents her irritation at the topic on an inanimate bank of terminals. They'll only come back in a few moments anyway.

None of this translates across the network - just a long silence, cold and brittle as new ice.

When it finally breaks, there's a hardness to her psychic presence that isn't entirely foreign to her being - just rarely shown so overtly these days.]

If you wish to justify their unthinking cruelties with childish philosophizing, find someone else to indulge you. I am not in any mood for it.