The knee jerk reaction to that is to roll her eyes at him, at the sentiment of it. Watch what? Her drive her forehead into the brick wall of the Council until the only thing that had broken for it was her own damn skull? Or maybe he's talking about the part where she'd made an ass of herself over every data stream in the Galaxy. Or maybe he meant schlepping around basic with her, two morons with guns in their hands and a handful of brain cells to rub together between them. The things that were worth seeing - that reaper on Rannoch, the Collector Base - were the kinds of thing that didn't get repeated because no one would believe them. Except him. Except her crew. For a second she thinks of Liara's time capsule, that ridiculous pre-mortem eulogy and how the only good it'll do is if they fail spectacularly (because she's got the Normandy's crew and Corvo Attano to say everything there is to say about her if they don't).

But she bites it back - the sarcasm. Closes her teeth around it and forces herself not to snort. It's probably the wrong time to criticize sentimentality. After all, she could've gone straight to her meeting with Anderson, but instead she'd walked halfway across base camp to find him and say-- what?

"It's been a pretty good run."