Hello everyone!
This story is a sequel to Position of Trust, but it's not necessary to read it as this story has its own plot and theme. But if you are interested in the background of the main characters and what happened to them, I would encourage you to check it out. Also, I feel obligated to warn you that there will be some violence, nothing major but just so you know.
If you have any questions about this story or the prequel, feel free to send me a pm.
Hope you enjoy this one as much as I did writing it.
Tap-tap-tap
The sound of fingers dancing across the keyboard filled the room. Sentence after sentence, firmly focused on the words that appeared on the screen, her eyes moved away from the screen only when she did another part of her job; making the woman seated in front of her feel as comfortable as possible. Since she already offered coffee (which the woman refused), she smiled at her now and then. It was a warm, almost motherly gesture.
tap-tap-tap
Shepard found herself imitating the sound, with the tip of her fingers on the wooden armchair. She had to find something to fight the boredom. And so between typing imaginary sentences on the hard surface and studying the secretary, she noticed a few little details that shed some light on the elderly woman's private life. And it was not fairly interesting; husband, children, grandchildren. A 'best mom in the whole world' mug on the edge of the table, stained with traces of tea after years of use. A wall on her right filled with children drawings (which seemed rather out of place), papers stacked in a huge but neat pile waiting to be dealt with. Record books on the shelves on the right wall, just by the door, sorted in alphabetic order. Shepard wished she had someone to deal with her papers, or at least to be as organized as the elderly lady in front of her, that's so vigorously pushed the buttons down, as if her job is the most important thing in the world, not giving much mind to the Captain in front of her, not noticing (or at least she pretended she didn't notice) how she almost mockingly, imitate her typing.
tap-tap-tap
Figuring she won't find anything interesting about the secretary's private life, she gave up on profiling and let her mind wander back a few hours ago when she received the call to meet the Admiral.
She was on the field, evaluating the recruits for SF. Specifically, it was stalker training, for future Infiltrators. The goal is that the students successfully crawl to within 150 yards of the observers without being detected. Standing in the guard post on top of the small hill, Shepard scanned the field with her binoculars looking for any sign of movement in the forest below, when she heard the sound of someone walking behind her; small twigs breaking and leaves crunching under the weight of the visitor. She sighed. The arrival of the intruder this late in the day could mean only one thing; she will come home later then she thought. The leaves rustle once again as the Lance Corporal stopped and saluted.
"Captain Shepard, ma'am!"
Shepard didn't put her binoculars down, nor in any other way acknowledge that she heard the soldier. Focused on the bush about 300 yards away, she smiled and put down her binoculars saying to the fellow instructor sitting next to her.
"That bush," she pointed down.
The instructor stood up from his seat and looked at his map getting the exact location. He tapped his earpiece.
"Five steps forward, then two left."
The walker, as they call them, followed the instruction and after the final step she stopped and waited for the final order.
"Check the bush in front of you."
The walker poked slightly in the bush with her stick. The first two pokes hit the ground, but after the third one, she lifted her arm, confirming that the recruiter was found.
"Who is it?"
"Martinez, sir," she responded and the connection cut. Shepard, after hearing the name, shook her head. This is the second time he failed the exercise.
"Tell Martinez that his itchy nose will get him killed one day," Shepard said and walked away, Lance following close behind.
"So what is it, Lance?" she asked as she removed her cap just to wipe the sweat forming on her forehead. It was a hot day.
"A message from Admiral Westbrook, ma'am."
Shepard abruptly stopped and turned to the young soldier behind her.
"From the Admiral?" she asked, furrowing her brows.
Lance Corporal nodded, "For your eyes only. Ma'am."
Shepard stared at the datapad for a second before taking it from his hand. He walked away, giving Shepard some privacy as she read the content of the admiral's message.
And now, several hours later, she still couldn't fathom why the admiral called her. She knew it was nothing serious, or so she hoped so anyway. If it were, they would pull her from the field right away, or her superior would call her. Thankfully, after the long day, she didn't have to talk to her superior. Her superior was a dick who liked to stroke his ego by commanding her around. And the fact that he got his rank just because his parents are amongst the most influential politicians, made Shepard despise him even more.
She didn't hear a lot about Admiral Westbrook, but she knew he was popular among the grunts. And that tells a lot about the high ranking officer. Even though she knew little of him, just the things she read, but it was enough to evoke a spark of respect. For his actions in the First Contact War, he was highly decorated, but the rest of his career was somewhat quiet; fighting raiders and pirates, defending colonies on the outskirts of Alliance space. She knows he served in some capacity in the war against the Reapers, but she couldn't remember what exactly was his role. She didn't have time to dwell on it further as the door of the admiral's office opened, startling Shepard. She bolted from her seat, preparing to salute the admiral. But only half of his body emerged from the room, not giving Shepard a second glance.
"Lynda, hold my calls," he said to his secretary. The secretary, now known as Lynda, quickly replied. "Yes, Admiral." And with a soft smile, she led Shepard inside.
Just as Shepard stepped into the office, Lynda closed the door behind her, leaving Shepard alone with the admiral. Remembering that a higher rank officer is in front of her, she straightened her posture and saluted. Admiral half-heartedly saluted back and gestured towards one of the leather seats in front of his huge oak desk.
"Please sit, Captain."
At first, Shepard was a little bothered by the way he received her, but the tone of his voice somewhat eased her worry. It looked like he wants for this conversation to go as casual as the ranks between them allow. Shepard was not sure if that was a good thing.
"Thank you, sir," Shepard said and sat down. She quickly glanced down her uniform making sure there are no wrinkles or dust.
"Do you know why I called you, Captain?" Admiral asked, his back now turned towards Shepard. She couldn't see what he was doing, but the metallic click as he closed the small box gave her the answer.
"No, sir."
He sat down, lighting his cigar and as he was taking in the smoke he looked at her, his eyes narrowed as if he was studying a painting in the gallery. He had a thin mustache, his hair short, grey and neatly slicked back. It shined on the afternoon sun that passed through the large window.
'He probably uses hair oil or something,' Shepard thought.
He let one more puff of smoke before he continued, "I will cut to the chase Shepard. And what I say, will stay between us I trust?"
"Of course, sir," Shepard responded.
"The Board of Admiralty is really interested in your future plans Captain."
"Sir?"
"Look, Shepard," he said as he put his cigar on the small ceramic ashtray with Alliance logo where it steadily produced a thin veil of smoke, filling the space between them. "I respect you so I will get straight to the point."
Shepard nodded and held her head a bit higher, waiting for the punch. What will happen? Will they send her back in combat? Will she be discharged?
"As you are aware, when we saved you a few years ago, from that pile of rubble, we had to invest a lot of money and resources to bring you back. There is no point in sugar coating it Shepard. With what we put into you, we could have saved a dozen of soldiers. Rebuild homes faster."
Admiral played with his ring as he was saying this.
"But we didn't. And now, we want our money back. And you working as an Instructor, while helpful, it's not enough to pay off debt. It's not what the Board wants."
"That means back on the field."
Westbrook nodded. "You know what the situation is Shepard. Pirates are stronger now more than ever, Krogans are getting ambitious. Not to mention that the rest of the species are not happy with our expanding. It's not looking good."
"We have our diplomatic-"
Admiral waved her away.
"They contain the fire as much as they can. We need boots on the ground."
"I can't leave my kids behind admiral. The Board knows that."
"We do. And don't worry we don't plan to send you anywhere until your kids can attend some private school. Alliance paid, of course."
Shepard knew of these schools, prestige institutions where the children of wealthy and high ranking military personnel are educated when their parent do their own stuff. Shepard did a simple math; Mike and Addison are now nine years old, to be accepted they have to be at least eleven.
"So I have about two years," she said, more quietly then she wanted.
"At best, yes."
"And if I refuse?"
"You know the consequences, Shepard," he scoffed at her as he got up and walked towards the window.
"The consequences can be from discharged to court-martialed. What's in store for me?"
Admiral didn't answer right away. Instead, he stared through the window. Looking at something only he could see.
"Sometimes I look at our proud men and women serving, the common soldiers who are still bound by honor. And I feel disgusted with myself. I thought I could change something," he said, disappointment and regret in his tone.
"But it is impossible. The higher you go, the deeper in shit you are. It is no longer military; it's politics. And in politics, they gather however small stone they can find and throw it at you. Hoping you will stumble."
He finally turned back to look at Shepard. "They have a lot of stones with your name on them. They can and will court-martial you, Shepard."
"I was cleared of everything-"
"It doesn't matter. Batarians want your blood, Dalatrass Linron is still holding a grudge, and she is making sure the Salarian Union does too. Asari… well, they only sent several diplomatic notes, but enough to make us know what they think about you still being in the Alliance. It looks like you have some friends in the Matriarchy," he said, giving her a knowing look.
"To them, you are a big unknown. They know what you are capable of. And it scares the shit out of them." He concluded.
'Like I'm some kind of a monster.' Shepard almost said out loud.
"But, sir, wouldn't that anger them even more? No matter how much you keep it a secret, they will find out."
"The Admiralty is prepared to take that risk. If we back down to their every whim, they will take advantage of that. We can't show any weakness."
"What about the common people? They don't share the same view of me, maybe if-"
The admiral cut her off, "No, you are a hero to them, Shepard. But the civilians do not matter. They are numbers."
Shepard forgot her position for a split second and stood up, defiance in her voice, "There is power in numbers, sir."
Admiral stared at her for a moment, eying her down making Shepard remember who she was talking to. After she sat back down, he continued, "There is. When you have the power to wield them. You don't," his warm tone gone. "Take my advice, Shepard. When the wolves come, don't resist. They will shred you to pieces."
"Is that why you called me admiral? To make sure I don't resist becoming a tool to whatever agenda they have in mind?"
"As I said, Shepard, I respect you a lot. And after all you did, I think you at least deserve the heads up for the shitstorm that is coming," he sighed. "Look, Shepard, our leaders are idiots. Plain and simple. If they treated our soldiers like they are their own children, you can bet that there would be fewer wars. If any."
Once again he looked out of the window, watching the sky.
"If they see them as living beings, and not just some numbers on a thin steel plate…" he shook his head before turning back to Shepard.
"You are not just some number Shepard. If I had any say, you would be retired, spending time with your little family. But I'm only one voice."
He reached for the folder on his desk and stared at it before handing it over to Shepard.
"Here are more details on what you should expect in the next few months. You will get the official order to go through medical. They will check your overall health and implants. Tinker something if there is a need. When you pass that, the next step is your biotic evaluation. Now, since you are not a natural, based on your performance, we will decide if it worth putting you through biotic training at all. I read the reports that you have crippling headaches after using biotics. Maybe that Cerberus implant is acting out? After that, you will go on several training missions with Team Delta. You will replace the current Captain, as he failed his medical. Because you have kids, we won't send you away-"
The Admiral kept talking, but Shepard started to dissociate herself away from the room and fixed her gaze outside, where a tiny leaf danced as the wind twirl him around on the ground. A few months ago, she was sure that Alliance was her priority. And that she wanted to go back in action. But that certainty crumbled with each new duty Admiral listed.
Alliance HQ or not, it was still a very ugly designed building, and every time Shepard stepped inside, she felt like a piece of her soul was taken away. She never managed to come and love the shape of it. From a distance, it looked like a factory. She remembered the first time she saw it, years ago, when she was merely an adult. Back then, it was intimidating but at the same time offering protection and hope for a better future.
She put her beret back on and swiftly adjusted it making sure it is properly on her head. Making her way towards her car, a soft breeze pushed the first autumn leaves across the hard concrete as she passed by.
As she reached her car, she noticed a scratch on the front door. Kneeling down, she traced the sharp edges with her finger. Some asshole probably parked too close to her and bumped her door. Or maybe someone scratched it on purpose. Wouldn't be the first time. The admiral just confirmed what she already knew. Not everyone is happy with her.
She sighed and unlocked the door. Sitting down, she threw her beret on the passenger's seat and taking a deep sigh; she rested her head against the seat. She thought about going on for a ride, instead of straight home. Her driving skills were debatable, but it didn't take much to drive on the old road in the countryside. Maybe she could make use of the free weekend and go on a trip, for a few hours. Just to rearrange her thoughts. Put them in their appropriate place. Figure things out. Maybe.
A few gentle taps on the window glass pulled her from her thoughts.
"Keller?" she said, surprised, recognizing the man standing outside her car. Quickly she lowered her side window, removing the thin obstacle between them. He took the opportunity to lean in.
"Hi there," he said, smiling at her.
"What are you doing here?"
"Stalking you across the parking lot. Apparently," he joked.
Kellar stepped aside giving her space as she opened the door and got out.
"I was lost in thought. Sorry," she said as the door closed behind her, making a soft click.
He waved her apology away, "Nothing new for you."
"I thought you were stationed on SSV Rubin," she tried to clear up her confusion.
"Just landed and went to sign some papers before heading to the bar with the crew. Then I saw you racing across the parking lot. Gotta say, Shepard, you walk really fast."
"Only when I have to run away from you," she continued the playful tone he started earlier. Even though he smiled, Shepard was sure that he caught the truth behind her joke. She should think more before talking.
"Yeah, well, now that I caught you," he took a step closer, "you owe me a drink."
"I can't. Not today at least. I have to pick up my kids. I'm already late," she took a glance at her watch. "Sorry."
Shepard could tell he was disappointed, even though he tried to hide it.
"Don't worry about it."
He paused for a second, massaging his neck, "So how are they? Michael and Allison?"
"Addison," Shepard corrected him. "Growing up. Mike is still a little bit shy, but you know. He will probably grow out of it."
"I wouldn't worry about it in your place. I barely had any friends growing up-"
"Shocking."
Shepard's comment made him laugh. He didn't know a lot about her kids, just snippets she told him while they had those rare early morning talks. He wished to have a bigger part in her life beside occasional night spent together. He never believed in destiny, but after meeting her, he took solace in it. Maybe there is a reason for them not being together.
"I would like to meet them," he blurted. "If that's ok with you of course."
He could see Shepard is not too keen on the idea but to his great relief, she agreed.
"Give me a call when you find some free time. You know, just to catch up."
Shepard opened her mouth to say something, but Kellar quickly added, "No hidden agenda Shepard. Just coffee."
"Yeah, well, with you, a girl can never be too careful."
He stared at her for a moment before laughing.
"Me? I'm the image of the perfect gentleman," he put his hand over his chest.
"Too bad I'm not into gentle ones," she loved to tease him like this, to see his eyes lit in that particular little way.
"We really need to get that coffee, Shepard."
"And we will, but not today."
She winked at him and sat back in her car, turning it on. As she drives away, she could see in the rearview how he waved at her before lowering his hand and walked away. She should have sorted her priorities years ago.