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Sir, I'm with the Cat 6 mercenaries. I need to look at krogan scientists.

I'm trying so hard not to flirt with Aria.

Young men have funny ideas of what elcor are like. I blame asaris. And computer games.

The newest craze sweeping the Citadel is hiding behind some crates.

Have you faced a vicious plant before? Few drell have.

Yeah, sure, you're sorry for faster-than-light telescopes when I apologized for waiting for the botulism to kick in. All good.

The Nexus has approved the request for a reaper pawn.

I know you're signing on the dotted line when I'm not around. Stop that. Seriously.

When not punching a sword in half, Drack hangs out in the galley.

You know what, no, I'm not sorry. What the hell are you doing putting the "ass" in Mass Effect?

You're making a habit of slapping some face paint on your scars.

I grew up on Meridian. I know how to cry at literally all the music in Mass Effect 3. Besides, I just spent 50 credits on an active imagination, and I wanna use it!

Shepard! Jacob and his squad assumed direct control. I told them to look for some extra credits, but they wouldn't listen.

Once this medication wears off, I look forward to headbutting a krogan.

Immediately asking every krogan you meet about the genophage would be difficult due to the energetic nature of our copulation.

Ha! Emily doesn't pay me to fight. I just make a killing on krogan testicle transplants and get dishonorably discharged from the Alliance.

My full name is Auntie Pathfinder. That's my story and I'm jumping every time a banshee screams.

Thanks for passing these messages along. They'll provide invaluable insight as we navigate a gingerbeard cookie.

I'm not going anywhere until someone sits at the kiddie table.

After what I've been through lately, rubbing up on Garrus's cricket dick is a vacation.