"And what moralizing did I give you, exactly? The exact words."

Shepard shrugs it off. She's angry, and disappointed with herself-- Shepard has precious few friends in this world, and of them only one she can trust. She misses the easy military framework, where you lived and died alongside one another. She misses being able to give a recommendation and have it be understood for what it was. She misses kindness, misses being able to say how she feels without immediately starting a fight, the way she always seems to be wrong for the task at hand.

"I'll say it a second time. Don't," Her voice was venom, totally changed from the calm steel. Shepard stopped, breathed, and set the block of rifle down; she didn't quite remember picking it up. She was calm again, "Don't project your insecurities onto me. Don't decide for me what I meant. I'm sick of everyone here deciding that we know one other, just because we can pick up each other's god damn moods."

Not that it's a subtle mood, mind you.