Her nose wrinkles slightly when he reaches up for his visor, just as she's about to quip back the obvious less-than-scathing reply. Lena had been at Jack Morrison's funeral like everyone else, but like everyone else, she hadn't seen his body. She imagined there wasn't much to see after you've been crushed by a building following an explosion.

At first, she doesn't recognize some of those new scars -- but his wasn't a face she'd soon forget. Its a slow dawning realization, like she's trying to rationalize what she's seeing with her eyes with what she had thought she knew. He was dead. He had to be dead -- surely he wouldn't have just let them all think that. He would have gotten the recall message. He had to know about his own funeral.

There's no doubting it. One arm falls, the other reaches up to slide her goggles off her eyes to get a better look at him, expression full of a mixture of emotions.

"--Commander Morrison?"