[Once upright, Cathaway takes a moment to straight her wrap and untangle mussed links of the small chains wrapped from her elbows to her wrists and to the base of her fingers. It's a small series of fixes, but it's directly physical and crispy aware of her body and what's covering it. She can't say she remembers the last time she was so particular. Strange. Her skin feels thin.]

We will do what we can to provide you with intel, Shepard. We'll put a dossier together for you to take with. [Not a considerably dense one - she's certain of that. There are shapes and figures moving at the edge of her awareness, but parsing them isn't as easy as she'd like. Especially not when she's like this: too small, too present.]

Lexa-- [She touches her forehead, blinks. As mild as milk, no bite to the words:] Don't be an asshole. We've exhausted him and he isn't in the mood to be interrogated. We're here because we need to be. The fact that some of you might learn a thing or two is a happy side effect.

Now, do us a favor. We need time to collect data. Would the three of you let everyone else know to prepare their things for a trip? A short one. We'll meet you on the hangar deck shortly.