Cara Shepard - One-shot - Confessions
Yeoman Kelly Chambers read the datapad Commander Cara Shepard had given her and frowned. She glanced up at the woman before glancing back to the pad again. It showed a message from the commander's supposedly secure extranet account. It was from Robyn Reeve, one of the colonists on Horizon, begging her to find the missing children. The message was dated just over a month ago, when the Normandy had been sent there to look for the Collectors.
Before our abduction, Kelly thought with a shudder. She still had nightmares about being dragged off by monsters in the darkness and others about being locked in a coffin. She took a deep breath. She was the ship's counsellor, employed to help people with their problems. It did them no good if she had problems of her own. She smiled internally. Physician, heal thyself.
"It's a tough one commander," said Kelly, pursing her lips. She slid a lock of auburn hair behind her ear and risked a glance at the woman, who sat along the cream pseudo-leather sofa from her, relaxing in a pair of loose-fitting navy blue jeans and a black vest top, the badge of the Spectres printed in white on the front of it.
"What can I say?" Asked Cara, as she lifted the wine glass to her thin pale lips and took a sip.
Kelly detected a note of pleading in the woman's usually composed voice. A jolt of fear ran through her. What if she's was on the verge of losing it? After everything she's seen and done for the sake of humanity, and the galaxy, she's bound to have some scars.
"'Sorry, but they're all dead, get over it'. It's not the best way to tell someone pretty much everyone they knew is dead," said Cara, staring into her wine glass as she rolled the stem between her thumb and index finger.
"No commander, but-"
"Cara, please. I asked you to do this off the clock because I wanted it to be a discussion amongst friends, no ranks or chains of command to get in the way," said Cara. She let out a bitter laugh. "Friends. One word that means so much to everyone. You know you're the closest thing I have to a friend Kelly?"
"Cara?" Kelly asked quietly, her mouth fumbling to get the word out. The commander had never let herself be addressed like that by any of the rest of the crew. She tried to cover the mistake by lifting her own wine glass and sipping the dark burgundy liquid. She smacked her lips despite herself, enjoying the rich flavour and hints of green fields and caskets. It was a 2182 vintage from the Nova Espagne region of Eden Prime, the last wine to be made before Sovereign had hit the planet and reduced parts of it to cinders. "What do you mean?"
"You can't have missed it Kelly," said Cara, looking over at the young woman, who sat in a short-skirted halter neck dress. The dark plum really brings out the green in her eyes. She caught herself. When in the hell did you become so soft?
"I've seen that you're friendly around everyone Cara," said Kelly, "though I do sense that some of it is forced."
"And you'd be right. I trust them all." Cara paused, pursing her lips. "Well, ok, I trust most of them, but I don't know if I'd call myself friends with them."
"Why not?" Kelly watched as the Commander – Cara, she mentally corrected herself – squirmed on the sofa. "Nearly all of them love you, in their own way. Even Miranda."
"What? I know I helped her with her sister and all, but that I'd expect anyone to do that."
"Really?" Kelly chuckled briefly. Saw the look Cara gave her and cleared her throat. Those blue cybernetic implants are really quite creepy. It's like talking to the Illusive Man; you always get the impression that he can see right through you. She licked her lips nervously. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Shoot," said Cara, running a hand through her long brown hair. Now that she was off-duty, she'd shaken out her regular bun and let her hair hang down, framing her tanned face.
"Have you had many friends in your life?" She asked, bracing herself for the answer. To her surprise, Cara simply sighed and leaned back, resting her head against the top of the sofa.
"Not many. They're all dead, as far as I know." A bitter smile twitched her lips. She closed her eyes. "Well, apart from Finch, and he hardly counts."
"No? Who was he?" Kelly asked. Cara's eyes snapped open at that.
"I thought you'd read my file Kelly?" Asked Cara. She glanced over at Kelly. Kelly smiled sheepishly with a look that said 'humour me'. Cara shook her head, exasperated. "Right, fine Miss Psychologist. Finch was a member of the Tenth Street Reds, like I was, back on Earth. He tracked me down to the Citadel during my mission against Saren, threatened to tell the galaxy about my gang history unless I helped him out. I went and had a look, but it turned out the Reds had become a hate group. They'd always been pro-human, but never as bad as they were when Finch found me. He wanted me to get one of the guys out of jail, but the guy had poisoned a shipment of medical cargo bound for one of the turian colonies. That was out of line. So, I convinced Finch to back down. The turian thought I was weak, but I didn't care; I wanted Finch to go back and tell the Reds that I had moved on, and if they tried anything again I'd take them all down.
"I talked to Kaidan about it afterwards. He thought I'd done the right thing, and Kaidan had always been my moral compass. He was a good colleague. Whiny bastard at times, especially when his implants flared up and he got a migraine that would have most personnel in the medbay. But, he kept on going."
"Did you care for him?" Kelly's voice was soft. She swallowed; she doubted anyone else had heard most of this before. Her professional side went into overdrive, even as her personal side was warning her that if she just treated Cara like another patient she'd be condemning the young woman to misery. She had met people like Cara before, tough on the outside, but mainly because they had had to be, and not sure what normal was.
"Y'know, I think I did," said Cara, after what seemed like an age, the silence between them filled by the gentle hum of the ship's environmental systems and the strains of old 20th Century rock and roll music. "But then, I tried to care for everyone under my command. I've taken us off-mission several times to help those under my command. Even on the old Normandy."
"Then Virmire happened."
"Then Virmire happened," repeated Cara. She leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees, head in her hands. "I left him to die. I calculated that saving Kirrahe and Ash was better than risking it all for him. He said he understood, but I think it hurt him that I left him behind, after all of the talks we'd had."
Cara sniffed suddenly. Jeez, she thought, how did you let yourself get round to this?
Maybe because you've needed to tell someone this for a while asshat, another part of her mind thought. She grabbed the wine glass and drained the contents, refilling it from the bottle that sat on the low table. She made to fill Kelly's glass, but Kelly shook her head. Cara shrugged and set the bottle down. She sat back, sipping on the wine, staring through the armour-glass viewport above her bed. Outside, the stars flowed by, their light blue-shifted. They were on their way to Illium, to meet Liara T'soni, one of the old crew and the one to whom Cara felt the strongest loyalty; Liara had risked everything to get Cara's body back from the Shadow Broker, before handing it over to Cerberus. Cara hoped the information the Illusive Man had found would go some way to repaying her debt to Liara.
"I toured the ship after Virmire, to gauge the mood of the crew. Everyone was pretty torn up about it. Apart from Wrex, but Wrex was like that. It felt like the heart had been torn out of the ship. It was strange."
"How so?" Kelly cautiously sipped some wine. She did not want Cara to retreat behind her defences again; this was too important to the commander's mental well-being.
"I never thought I'd miss him so much. But, he had spirit, and a sense of right and wrong. He was naive I suppose, but..." She trailed off, frowning. "There was something about him. It brought out the positivity in everyone."
"I know what you want to ask," she said quickly, looking over at Kelly as the woman opened her mouth. "'Did I love him?' No, I'd never let anyone get that close to me, not since Tommy."
"Tommy?" Kelly frowned: this was not in Cara's file. She slipped her left ankle under her right knee, twisting to face Cara. She leaned her left elbow on the back of the sofa, hand cupping the side of her face. "Who's he?"
"Tommy DiMarco. The love of my life," Cara laughed bitterly. She saw Kelly's bemused expression and her heart fluttered: she really wants to know me for who I am. Why does that scare me? "He was a Red, like me. We met when I was nine, hit it off, and started running with the Reds. For a while, it was good. Then I turned thirteen. Tommy, I should point out, was a couple of years older than me. I'd hit puberty by then, and Tommy, in turn, was getting interested. We started dating, though you could hardly call it that. A shared box of Chicken Surprise and a bottle of sixty percent proof ethanol are not exactly filet mignon and champagne, but they were close enough for us. Things went well for a while, but I got a massive dose of pure Eezo when a local police raid on a Red Sand lab went bad. I didn't know it then, but that was the second time I'd been exposed. I didn't think too much about it; I was too busy trying to live and survive, running drugs, weapons, credits, all to get some credits of my own to buy food. A couple of years later, once we'd both gone through our adult initiation trials with the Reds, Tommy decided he'd had enough of waiting around. We went out one night, he spiked my drink. Next thing I know, I'm up against a wall around the back of this club, skirt around my waist, and him pounding away inside me."
"That's horrible," said Kelly, hand coming up to cover her gaping mouth, struggling to think of something to say. Her mind went into overdrive. Why was none of this in Shepard's file? Not even her unofficial dossier that Cerberus had built up had this in it. No wonder she's so hard and withdrawn.
"Yeah," said Cara, her eyes focussed into the middle distance, voice breaking. Unconsciously she brought her knees up to her chest, and hugged her legs; a posture Kelly knew was defensive. A single tear trickled down the side of Cara's recently healed cheek and she sniffed loudly. "I dunno, maybe I asked for it. I kept telling him how much I loved him, and how much I wanted us to be together. But, I didn't want to do anything until I hit eighteen, and I knew we'd definitely be together then. We'd moved on to third base, but nothing further. I think he saw it as his cue that maybe I just needed to get it, then I'd love it. I tried grabbing his shoulders and pushing him off, but he was too deep into his rhythm. Nothing worked. I think he'd hit the Hallex pretty hard. He finished, and tried to kiss me. I hit him and ran. I ran for what felt like hours, until my feet hurt too much. I'd ended up outside an Alliance recruiting office. It was shut, but I remember the poster of the proud marines reclaiming Shanxi. I knew then that I could get away from the gangs and Tommy. But, by fucking me, he'd laid claim over me. By the Rules of the Reds, I was now his."
"Isn't that slavery?" The colour had drained from Kelly's face. She stared at Cara Shepard, alternating between wanting to hold her tight and tell her it was all right to getting the woman to come to her professionally. My God, she needs some serious help.
"Yeah, but you've got to remember, this is the slums of Ontario; we didn't know any better. I didn't get a proper education until I enlisted. Turns out hacking Quasar machines and bank auto-tellers is a fine way to get ahead in the Alliance tech course," she said, the faintest ghost of a smile flickering across her face, despite the tears streaming down her face. "So, I tried to leave the Reds. But, by the Rules, Tommy was in charge of me, and he cut off my credits chit and did everything he could to make sure I stayed. And part of me still loved him, despite it all. But I realised that I was not going to get too far as his fuck-bitch. Then I started to properly manifest my biotics. I'd started to show potential before then, but I'd tried to cover it as dusting up."
"You mean taking red sand?" Kelly asked, pouring some wine into her glass. She had not really had much experience with drugs like that, preferring softer mood enhancers if the situation warranted it.
"Yeah. Tommy believed me," Cara said. She sniffed loudly and gulped down her glass, motioning to Kelly to refill it. "He never had much intelligence that boy. He was just desperate to prove he had the cojones to be a big player amongst the Reds. He was pissed when one of the elders, think his name was Harry, came round and told him that I was a biotic and was going to go with him. Tommy tried to stop him, but the guy's bodyguard beat Tommy down. I left Tommy behind, and got taken to a private hospital. They fitted me with a set of implants, no idea where they got them as the L-threes were classified as 'military only' at that point, and started trying to train me. I think the elder, Harry, was desperate to have some sort of biotic street soldier, but I disappointed him. I ran. Got up one night and ran. I made it as far as downtown before I ran into Tommy. Talk about dumb luck: he was out with a group of Reds doing a shakedown of the local shops and just happened to cross paths. He crowed that I had come back to him. I hadn't, but he was convinced that I still loved him. Idiot. He told them all that I was his and to prove a point went to kiss me. I hit him with a biotic punch that shattered his skull. I didn't mean to, but I think the training'd worked better than I thought. He went down, the concussive shock killing him before he hit the floor. The others didn't move. I think I'd shocked them. Word spread though, and it wasn't long until Harry started shaking down my old haunts. To spare my old crew the pain I left. Spent the next few months on the move until I ended up in Vancouver. Joined up on my eighteenth birthday and never looked back."
"That's quite a story," said Kelly. She had drained her wine glass twice whilst Cara had been speaking, and was feeling the effects. "It explains why you didn't get the tattoo redone."
"Yeah; I didn't want to remember them. I left Earth behind when I joined up, and the only thing I had left of them was the tattoo. Once Cerberus rebuilt me, I didn't see the point in getting it redone," said Cara. She shook her head, the room taking some time to focus.
Too much wine, she thought, blinking rapidly. God this is going to hurt in the morning.
"Are you okay Kelly?" She asked, glancing over at Kelly, noting that the young woman's face was pale, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears.
"That's just... Wow... I don't know what to say to that," said Kelly. "How do you manage to stay so strong?"
"Do I look strong?" Asked Cara, rubbing the tears from her eyes. She glanced down, seeing the black eyeliner smeared all over the back of her hands. "Shit. I bet I look a right mess."
"No Cara, you don't," said Kelly with a weak smile. She drained her wine glass and, noting that the bottle was empty, tried to stand up and get another one from the cupboard beneath the fish tank. She immediately collapsed back onto the sofa as her legs gave out. With an effort, she stood and meandered towards the cupboard, nearly falling over the steps up to the tank, her kitten heels clicking on the drab grey deck. Kneeling, she flicked the hidden catch and opened the climate-controlled cupboard to be greeted by racks of wine bottles. That's one thing you can say about Cara; she might have a fairly spartan cabin, but she keeps a good wine cellar hidden.
"I'll be right back," said Cara, though Kelly detected a slight slur to her voice.
"I'll be here," said Kelly, turning to face Cara as she stumbled up the steps, towards the head. She watched the woman head inside, waited for the grey door to hiss shut, and let out a low sigh. What am I going to do? Think Kelly, think!
Absently, she pulled a bottle out and scanned the label. An asari wine? She raised an eyebrow at that; she did not realise the asari had vineyards. It made sense though, as most races discovered their version of alcohol at some point in their evolution. According to the label it was nearly sixty years old and so probably too young to be properly aged. She put it back, and saw the next label. An Elysium wine. Excellent. Hopefully it'll keep her mind off the bad times.
She heard the door hiss open behind her, and turned to see Cara walk back into the room, her runny makeup wiped off, and her face still red from the crying. She was, however, looking better than she had five minutes ago, Kelly admitted to herself. She smiled.
"What's so funny?" Cara asked, a frown on her face.
"Nothing," said Kelly with a shake of the head. She held up the bottle. "Will this do?"
"Perfect," said Cara, glancing at the label. She stumbled back down the steps, feet padding softly on the metal, and collapsed onto the sofa once again with a creak of pseudo-leather.
Kelly stood up, slowly so the room would not spin as hard as it had done when she knelt down, and walked back, slumping into the sofa. She unscrewed the lid of the bottle and refilled their glasses.
"I thought about what you said," said Cara. She flicked her eyes towards the yeoman and saw Kelly's confused expression. "Y'know, about staying strong. I think there's two ways I manage it.
"Firstly, I compartmentalise everything. Lock it all away, and bury it. Secondly, I don't let anyone get close enough to hurt me again."
"Is that why you think you have no friends?" Kelly's voice was soft. She had curled up on the sofa, legs drawn up, and her left arm supporting her head as she leant on the back of the sofa.
"Yeah. I want people to be happy and comfortable aboard my ship, but I don't want to hurt them, or allow myself to get hurt by them."
"Cara, listen in, because I'm only going to say this once. You're an idiot." Kelly raised her hand, cutting Cara off before she could form a sentence, the commander's eyes narrowing. "Now, just hear me out. You're surrounded by friends. Your team would all die for you because they trust you and respect you. Even Miranda. You told me before that you'd expect anyone to help someone else out. That only works when it's your friends that help you. Anyone else in this galaxy wants to know what's in it for them before they'll do anything to help."
"Oh," said Cara in a small voice. "But I wanted something from them. I wanted them to help me take on the Collectors."
"You're not hearing me," said Kelly, exasperated. She risked a sip of wine, and was impressed by the flavour, particularly the cherry hints she could taste. "When you recruited them, they'd have followed you to take on the Collectors because you told them to. Then you talked to them, and got to know them."
"Thanks to you Kelly," said Cara, raising her glass in a toast before taking a gulp of wine. "You had to tell me more than once to speak to one of them."
"Yes, but I didn't tell you to go and speak to Gardner did I? You went and saw him on your own and got the supplies he asked for."
"Yeah, but that's because I like to look after my crew. Same reason I got Ken and Gabby those parts they wanted, and Chakwas her bottle of brandy."
"So why storm after us when we got abducted? You could have taken your time, made sure you were ready."
"We were ready, but that's not the point. I'd have come after you anyway. I lost twenty-two people on the old Normandy; I wasn't going to lose anyone else. I betrayed their trust in me; I was not going to betray yours. That's why I got Hawthorne to do this."
Cara turned away from Kelly, showing her her back. Above the top of Cara's vest top, Kelly could clearly see the name 'SSV Normandy SR-1' tattooed in dark ink between her shoulder blades, and underneath it 'Alenko, Kaidan' and 'Bakari, Jamin' in smaller type. She saw the tops of another pair of names, but they were obscured by the vest top.
"I'd heard about that. Hawthorne was as pale as a sheet when he came back down from here after our visit to Alchera."
"Doesn't surprise me," said Cara with a small smile. "I'd heard from Gardner that Hawthorne used to be a tattoo artist. I think he was kind of surprised when I called him up with his inking needles. Particularly when I took my top off to get him to actually do the inking: I don't think he expected to see his CO half-naked. When he applied the transfer his hands shook a bit. I had to tell him that if he screwed it up I'd kill him. That calmed him down a bit. He's a good artist too. What did he tell you?"
"Nothing really," said Kelly. "He said he'd done you a tattoo and that was it. He didn't really want to talk about it."
"Really?" Cara laughed. "Well, he knows what's good for him."
"It's good to hear you laugh. You rarely do it."
"That's because I'm scared Kelly. Whenever I'm on duty I'm scared I'm going to make a mistake and get people killed," said Cara, the smile vanishing from her lips. She took another sip of wine and stared into the glass. "Ever since Akuze I've been scared of making that kind of mistake. I watched those under my command die, some in complete agony as thresher acid ripped through their nervous systems."
"That wasn't your fault Cara," said Kelly, reaching across to squeeze the commander's right shoulder affectionately. "You didn't know what you were facing when you dropped."
"No, but someone did," sighed Cara. She reached up with her left hand, squeezing Kelly's own, and stared ahead. She turned her head, blinking at the way the room started spinning wildly before her eyes. "Have I fallen so far Kelly?"
"What do you mean?" Kelly gave Cara's shoulder another reassuring squeeze, feeling the warmth of woman's tanned skin beneath her hand.
"Scuttlebutt has it that Cerberus knew about the thresher maws before we dropped, and deliberately let us drop so they could study the effects. Now here I am, eight years later, working with them," she said bitterly. She threw her head back, virtually inhaling the glass of wine.
"Cara, stop it," sighed Kelly. She took her hand off the other woman, noting the pained expression that flashed across Cara's face. Inwardly she cursed herself for retreating, but she had to try and get Cara to see sense. "We're hardly a Cerberus vessel any more. We're your crew. We all joined Cerberus for one reason or another, but after our experiences aboard that station I can honestly say that they entire crew will follow you willingly into hell if you asked them to. Come one, how many have tried to mutiny since you blew the station and told the Illusive Man to shove it? No one. You want to know why? They trust you to do the right thing. You may play the cold bitch, but you just want to atone for everything you've done in the past. You've made mistakes – show me someone who hasn't - but for fuck's sake stop beating yourself up about it! Yes you agreed to work for Cerberus, but on your terms. The Illusive Man played you every step of the way and you went along with it. We all did. He wanted that space station, and he would have sacrificed everyone to get it, including you and me!"
Kelly stopped, breathing heavily, aware that she had just been shouting at Cara. Smooth Kelly, real smooth. You'll be lucky if she doesn't just kick you off the ship. Professionally, you let yourself get involved, shouted at a superior officer and got drunk whilst on duty, sort of. Then on a personal level you just shouted at your friend, and maybe lost her forever behind the barriers she had set up to block herself from everyone.
"I'm tired of it Kelly," said Cara, her voice small. Kelly looked up to see Cara sitting on the sofa, looking utterly exhausted. She turned to look at Kelly, her eyes bloodshot around the implants. She sniffed, and wiped away the unfallen tears. "Ever since Eden Prime I've been the person that the Alliance, the Council, hell, even the average guy in the streets, has turned to when they want something dirty done. And I've done it every time. I've saved worlds, brought down criminal organisations, killed hundreds in the name of galactic security, and I don't even get a pay rise!
"And I'm sick of shouting into the void. The Reapers are coming, and no one gives a fuck. As far as they're concerned it's just a load of crap I made up. I'm not sure it's a galaxy worth saving any more. Part of me thinks that when the Reapers do turn up I'm going to get to the Citadel just so I can laugh at the Council as they beg to be saved again. I did it once, and nothing happened. We got a seat on the Council. Wow. What a letdown that was. Anderson tries hard, but he's trying to fight hundreds of years of dogma and insular thinking. Most of the Alliance thinks we've arrived on the galactic scene, but we've only just got our foot in the door. What? You look worried Kelly."
"I am Cara," said Kelly, struggling to keep her voice level. She'd not seen an outburst like that for a long time, before her time aboard the Normandy. "I knew you were troubled by everything, but I never expected this. I'm scared. You lose faith in stopping the Reapers, and the galaxy dies. You know what a threat they are. You alone know the menace they pose. Only you have seen the visions."
"Saren saw them too remember. It didn't do him any good either."
"But Saren was indoctrinated. He thought the best way to stop the extinction of life was to become willing slaves to the Reapers. That did not help the Protheans; they became the Collectors instead, serving their masters until you wiped them out."
"I sometimes wonder if I'm becoming more like him every day," sighed Cara, lifting her arm up to the light and staring at it. "Look at me Kelly. I died, and Cerberus rebuilt me. Cybernetics, upgrades, artificial tissue, all things that Saren had before he died. Even my eyes are the same as his! I was prepared to sacrifice this ship and her entire crew to stop the Collectors."
"Yes, but you're more than Saren ever was. You were willing to sacrifice us all, but you never did. The moment you came back from that mission and saw the empty ship, you came charging in to get us all back. How many times do I have to tell you that? There are many things you could have done, but you didn't. You decided that you didn't want anyone to die. Would Saren have done that? I don't think so."
"You're right," sighed Cara. She smiled weakly, staring down at the empty wineglass on the coffee table. The Prothean relic she had discovered on Kopis hovered unnervingly a couple of centimetres off the table, its gleaming surface reflecting the light. "It's been a heavy evening hasn't it? Sorry."
"Don't be sorry Cara," said Kelly. She leaned over and took the commander by the shoulders, trying not to shudder at her eyes. "You're a good person, deep down. You hide it under layers of emotional armour, but you care. That's why everyone turns to you with their problems, because they know you will help them. It's just your nature. But you've never allowed yourself to get close to anyone, so you can't turn to anyone with your problems. You told me that I was your friend Cara, so allow me to be your friend. I'm only a message away. If you want to talk about anything, and I mean anything, then talk to me. Don't hide behind your armour any more; otherwise your doubts will just eat away at you. Promise me."
"I promise Kelly," whispered Cara, bringing her arms up to take hold of Kelly's forearms. "And thank you. For everything."
"That's what friends are for Cara," beamed Kelly. She slid her arms off Cara's shoulders and hugged her tight. She felt Cara's muscles tighten on reflex before relaxing, and Cara's arms encircling her. Inwardly she smiled. She might just be all right after all.
She released her grip and tried to move away, but Cara refused to let go. She felt the racking sobs work their way through the woman's arms, jolting against her back. She hugged Cara again, letting the young woman work out all of the pain that had slowly been consuming her for the last 16 years. Well, maybe not all of it, admitted Kelly, but it was a start.
"I'm sorry," whispered Cara, the words blurted out between sobs. Kelly felt hot tears splashing against the skin of her chest.
"Hush. Just relax Cara," said Kelly, in the most caring voice she could muster. She was tired. It had been an emotionally draining night, but she could not abandon Cara, not like this. "Let it out. You've been alone for long enough."
"I'm sorry," Cara whispered again, her voice barely audible. She sniffed loudly into Kelly's bosom, making the yeoman flinch instinctively. Cara pulled back from the embrace. "You probably think I'm crazy."
"No, just human," said Kelly softly. She sat back on the sofa, and took a brief sip of wine to wet her throat. She reached out and squeezed her friend's hand. "Just remember, you're not alone."
"I know," said Cara, managing a brittle smile. She turned her hand over to squeeze Kelly's. "I wish you'd been on the old Normandy."
"It would have been nice. Garrus told me all about your time hunting down Saren. It sounded," she paused, pursing her lips. "Exciting, I suppose is the right word."
"It was, but it terrified me at the time," said Cara. Her head sank back into the sofa. "I knew I could do it, but still."
"The first human Spectre," said Kelly proudly, raising her glass in a mock toast.
"You make it sound so grand," said Cara with a shake of her head. "It wasn't as good as it seemed: constantly having to hop from planet to planet, always worried that Saren might discover the Conduit and bring back the Reapers before we could stop him. I spent so many nights writing reports that the Council barely paid attention to. The only time they paid attention was when I released that rachni queen and nuked Virmire. And yet still I ordered the Fifth Fleet in protect the Destiny Ascension. Stupid really. So many lives lost to protect the three of them. I'm pretty sure if the situation had been reversed they'd have held off, let us all die."
"So why do it?"
"I don't know. At the time, I wanted to show them that humanity could be as self-sacrificing as the Council races claimed to be. I doubt the councillors even remember the ships that were lost. I do. I have a permanent reminder," said Cara. She undid her jeans and pulled down the right hand side, along with her plain black pants, to reveal another tattoo on the front of her right hip.
This one, Kelly noted, was a different design to the one on her back, the words artistically written as though in long hand on pen and paper. She recognised a couple of the names and swallowed: the ships that had been lost at the Battle of the Citadel a couple of years ago.
"When did you get that done?" Kelly asked quietly.
"When we nearly lost Garrus on Omega," said Cara, pulling her trousers back up and refastening them. Her head flopped to one side, eyes struggling to focus on Kelly. "I got it done by one of the artists on Omega. A salarian called Armin. He thought it was a strange request; but he did it. Didn't rip me off either, which was nice of him."
"Do you think he knew what the names stood for?" Kelly's eyes were unconsciously drawn to Cara's hip, hidden as it was beneath the jeans.
"Oh, I know he did. He took one look at the list and tensed. He knew exactly who I was too."
"Well, it's difficult to disguise your face; you are one of the most famous humans out there," grinned Kelly. This is definite progress. Another couple of sessions and... Wait. What the fuck are you doing Chambers? Cara's not a normal patient. She's your friend. Stop thinking of her as another PTSD victim. Stop drinking so much, it's making you stupid. Just listen to her, and be there when she needs you.
"True," said Cara. She grinned broadly and stretched. "What time is it?"
"It's nearly oh three hundred," said Kelly, catching sight of the small orange and polished aluminium holo-clock that sat on Cara's bedside table. No wonder I'm so tired.
"No wonder I'm so tired," said Cara, rubbing her eyes. "Damn implants are itching too."
"Stop rubbing them and go to bed Cara." Kelly stood up and stretched, noting just how difficult was to stay on her feet. "You need to be fresh for our arrival on Illium tomorrow."
"True." Cara stood, swayed unsteadily, and drained the last of the wine from the bottle. She threw the bottle into the 'Rubbish – Reusable' bin beside the sofa and picked up the pair of glasses. A thought struck her. "We never got around to talking about you. I'm sorry Kelly."
"Oh hush, there's plenty of time to talk about me," said Kelly, waving away her friend's concern. She tottered over to the thick pressure door, managing the steps by scrupulously concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. She reached the door and turned back to face Cara, who'd followed her up the steps, with more grace than Kelly had thought possible after all of that wine, and was leaning against the side of her desk.
"Thanks Kelly," said Cara, her eyes twinkling. She carefully put the glasses on the desk and crossed the few steps between them. She embraced her again, nearly squeezing the breath out of Kelly.
"Anytime Cara," managed Kelly. She pushed Cara's shoulders back, bringing the woman's face in front of hers. "And I mean that. Anytime."
"I know," said Cara. She pulled the yeoman in close and pecked her on the cheek. "Thank you."
"Get to bed Cara," said Kelly, returning the kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."
She hit the holo-pad in the centre of the door. The door whirred apart with the muted hiss of compressed gas, exposing the cold grey metal of the short corridor to the elevator. She shivered briefly; had it really been that warm in Cara's cabin?
She took the few steps towards the elevator, turning to see the cabin door hiss shut, Cara's peaceful face staring out at her. Kelly smiled broadly at her. Cara responded with a smile and a brief wave.
No, she's not healed, thought Kelly, but she's getting there.
The elevator doors hissed open behind her. Taking a deep breath, Kelly walked into the small car and stabbed the button for the crew deck.
She's getting there.