"Lucky for them, I guess. They get to miss out on all the smoke and mirrors." Once Shepard's back on his feet, Jacob steps back and looks him over. The Commander looks good, if wet and a bit less buff than when he and Jacob were running around the Galaxy taking down Collectors. "Can you believe this tattoo crap? It's like they're drafting us. And the people here treat us like celebrities for some reason."

Jacob looks at the glowing blue words on his own wrist as though he could burn them off through the force of his glare. When that doesn't work, he looks back at Shepard. "Guess a draft could be a step up from house arrest, though. Heard they grounded you back on Earth." His tone of voice indicates just what Jacob thinks of that. Whichever politicians and bureaucrats decided to rake the first human Spectre over the coals for his heroic actions are now squarely on Jacob's shit list.