This is a request that if any other members of the Normandy crew have shown up here, they let me know. I'd like to know how many of us there are to work with.

[Not that she's the leading type, but it -- seems like it's going to be necessary, at least until Shepard shows up. She just has to have faith that Shepard will show up.]

[She clears her throat. She should probably say something to the rest of the people here, too.]

If any of you missed it, some of the remaining members of this ship's crew are answering questions here.

[Not that it's very informative. Still.]

[The video starts out at an odd angle, the device left on the bed as Taylor sorts through the other items she'd found in her locker. She's confused and a little disorientated, but she still starts out with an accusatory tone in her voice, clearly thinking that she is addressing someone specifically.]

Is this another test mission? You should give us briefs, you know, it's not like we ever get a real mission where we just wake up wherever and fumble through it.

[Quiet for a long minute, waiting for a response, checking a gun over to make sure it's all in working order. Still no response, though, and she continues, more anger seeping into her tone.]

Or maybe you're finally trying to get rid of me. [Her expression hardens.] Fuck it, whatever. Guess the worst I can do is survive whatever this is.

[She looks the gun over one more time before holstering it, then starts gathering the rest of the items up; three grenade-like devices that she settles onto the uniform's belt; chewing gum, dog treats, mascara, spare ammo - all go in various pockets. Lastly, she scoops up a dog - a chihuahua, surprisingly calm looking for the strange environment - and rests him on her hip.]

Oh, yeah. And don't ever stick one of my dogs in a fucking locker again.

[ There's small click as the feed begins transmitting. Nothing shows up except staticky black, but there are muffled noises in the background that faintly resolve themselves into hurried words—two voices, one male, one female, pitched low. ]

—id this—

—ell is goin—

[ . . . ]

—et’s just … over with.

[ There’s a noise that might either be a sigh or a quick burst of static. ] Fine.( Q & A UNDER THE CUT. )