A/N: Bioware owns the universe and associated characters; I just write about it.
"But when Earth calls, you make sure you're there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit."
Hackett's words still rang in her mind. Somewhere, deep in her heart, Shepard had known this day was going to come. It had only been a matter of time. She knew that the Alliance was not pleased with the mess she had made chasing after the Collectors. She knew that her actions were necessary, even if few who were not members of her crew understood. She knew that all she had done had been in her best efforts to save humanity, but no matter how much she tried to convince herself that the Alliance would see reason, a cold dread gripped her heart. Her fear was not of the punishment her superiors would issue; her fear was that, without her presence, the Reapers would finally succeed. It seemed that almost everyone in the entire galaxy was content to stick their heads in the sand and convince themselves that if they couldn't see the Reaper threat, then it didn't exist. She was an outlaw, a scapegoat, a heretic... and heretics must be punished to placate the masses. That was a fact that Shepard understood all too well. And now, with the blood of literally hundreds of thousands of batarians on her hands, there was no evading Earth's call.
Batarians. She would have laughed had the situation at hand not seemed so dire. There had been too many significant events in her life that had involved batarians. Her family and friends murdered and the colony she called home destroyed? Batarians. The colony she was visiting during shore leave gets attacked by hordes of criminals? Batarians. Granted, the Blitz hadn't been initiated by batarians alone, but a number of batarians had been involved; she ended up with a Star of Terra for fighting them off, even if she had been half drunk when the attack hit.
This time, though, she had singlehandedly destroyed an entire system populated by batarians. Even if her past actions could be overlooked, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Hackett would be able to do something about that, this one event was not going to be taken well. She knew it would be a catalyst for the ever-escalating tensions between the Hegemony and the Alliance. It did not help that one could argue the fact that the destruction had been driven by some sick need to exact revenge for what had happened to her childhood home rather than by the impending Reaper invasion. It seemed that that was the most likely route her trial was going to take.
Not that it mattered. Even if evidence made it apparent that she had acted in the galaxy's best interests and the Alliance felt the need to clear her of all charges, the Hegemony wouldn't hear of it. Like the admiral had said, the four-eyed bastards wanted blood. The only way to avoid an all-out war with the batarians was to show that Shepard was an outlier and that her actions did not in any way reflect the Alliance; she was an individual, acting upon individual motivations and was not at all associated with the government. Her charges would likely not be cleared and she expected that she would face imprisonment. She held no illusions about her fate. But, she supposed, she would rather be thrown into a cell for some indeterminate amount of time and allow the Alliance to focus their resources on the Reaper threat than have the Alliance recognize the truth of the situation and let her walk free. Allowing her freedom would be risking war with the batarian, a war that humanity could not hope to win. Shepard knew that the Alliance's resources were still strained after the battle against Sovereign four years ago. Humanity could not afford to fight a war on two fronts. Besides, the other galactic governments would hesitate to side with either humanity or the batarians. Now was not a time for the galaxy to be divided and if unity required destroying the reputation of humanity's first Spectre and the savior of the Citadel, then Shepard would gladly become a martyr.
These thoughts, these certainties, did nothing to quell her anxiety, instead ratcheting the feeling up a notch. Her heart was racing, pounding as though she was in the midst of combat with no backup... or as though it was that night before Ilos. She rested her head against the window of the ship, closed her eyes, and inhaled slowly and deeply, focusing only on the sensation of oxygen filling her lungs before she allowed it to escape the confines of her body. That night was high on the list of things she didn't want to think about right now, though she had to wonder if that was going to be held against her today. Given the rest of the charges against her, being accused of fraternization was laughable. But it didn't matter. Shepard didn't even know where she stood with Kaidan any longer; their last meeting had been confrontational at best, and the message she had received from him later had done nothing but confuse her further.
Knock it off, she chastised herself. Now's not the time to pine for lost love.
She sighed as she felt the ship bump up against something, indicating that the vessel had successfully docked at the station. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of Arcturus Station's docking bay. She had only been to Arcturus Station a handful of times, but it was comfortingly familiar. She, like her grandfather before her, was an Alliance soldier through and through, a fact that had made her forced partnership with Cerberus much more bitter, and Arcturus represented the heart of the Alliance and humanity.
A voice startled her out of her thoughts. "Commander, we've arrived," the young soldier sitting nearby said quietly.
She thought that that was obvious, but she didn't say so. The poor kid was clearly nervous; he had been fidgeting the entire trip. Shepard couldn't blame him. She knew that she was living history and just being in a room with someone like that would intimidate almost anyone. She knew the feeling; she had seen Jon Grissom once, when she was a recruit, and recalled being simultaneously terrified and in awe of the man. She was relatively certain Grissom hadn't even been aware of her presence; he certainly hadn't been sitting next to her.
You are also living history that's been branded a dangerous and probably insane criminal, she reminded herself. The boy probably thinks you might try to tear his heart out and eat it.
Shepard gave the boy the warmest smile she could muster-one she normally reserved for her close friends and crew. "Thank you, Corporal." She wished she could remember his name but she had been too tied up by her own thoughts and emotions to really pay attention when they were introduced. Her brain had never processed the information and now she felt a bit guilty.
Addressing him by rank seemed to be enough for him though, as he relaxed a bit. "I've been told to inform you that there is an escort waiting for you just outside. They will take you to the location where the trial will be held."
"'Where the trial will be held?'" Shepard lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "I was under the impression that the trial was not to be held immediately upon my arrival."
The young man shook his head. "We were asked to inform Arcturus of your presence the moment you landed on the Citadel."
Of course. They wanted to get this mess over with as soon as possible. Shepard shook her head. She was glad that she had refused to allow the Normandy to dock at the Citadel, instead using a crewmember's contact to pick her up on Omega and transport her to the seat of galactic power. It hadn't been cheap, but it was a small price to pay to know that her crew was still out there somewhere, able to fight the Reaper threat. She wasn't about to let them impound her ship and detain her crew; her crew was obliquely associated with the events that transpired in the Bahak system. They were not going to take the fall for her actions, even though she had no doubt that they supported her decision… and anyways, she needed to know that there was someone out there still fighting the Reapers.
She didn't intimate any of this to the soldier. Instead, she merely said, "I understand" and stood to exit the ship.
To her surprise, the young man stood and saluted. "Commander, permission to speak freely?"
"What's on your mind?" She was confused. He hadn't felt the need to address her in such a manner at any point during the trip. Why now?
"A lot of us know that you did what you had to do. There's something bigger than any of us realize happening here and we know that you've been fighting your ass off to make people understand it. Admiral Hackett and Councilor-former Councilor Anderson believe you. That's more than enough for us. Thank you."
She nodded at him once, a brisk, sharp movement. "The confidence is greatly appreciated Corporal. Dismissed."
She turned on her heel and, with a deep breath, stepped off of the ship. Waiting for her was a small group of men and women wearing the Alliance uniform. She couldn't see any weapons, but suspected that at least a few were armed… or biotics. The purpose of the escort was as much to protect her from others as it was to protect others from her. The Alliance knew that there were a lot of conflicting opinions about Commander Shepard. They weren't going to risk losing her to some particularly angry soldier or civilian.
A young woman at the front stepped forward and gave a brief salute. "Commander, we are your assigned escort. If you would follow us, we'll take you to where the trial will be held."
Shepard merely nodded and the escort fell into formation around her. She was led through a countless number of stark white and stainless steel adorned hallways and rooms. There were people milling about, soldiers and civilians alike. Most people ignored the group moving purposefully across the station. Some people recognized the Commander and she was given both glares and salutes, sometimes from the same person. Shepard always made sure to acknowledge the salutes with a brief nod. She just ignored the glares.
Too soon they arrived before a large, open door. Shepard was guided through the door to a seat near the front of the room. As she crossed the room, she quickly scanned the small crowd that was already present. Her eyes landed on a familiar profile and her heart stopped.
What is he doing here? Kaidan was engaged in conversation with someone sitting beside him. She didn't recognize the other man… not that she cared who the other man was. Why would Kaidan, of all the people in the goddamned galaxy, be here?
Does it matter? she asked herself as she took her seat. He's a friend, an ally, despite what happened on Horizon. You know that. You need him here.
As if responding to her thoughts, he suddenly looked up and their eyes met. Shepard fought the urge to look away. She hadn't seen him since they parted ways on Horizon and she had never gotten around to responding to his message. She hadn't wanted to give him false hope that things would go back to the way they were in the event that she ended up dead. She couldn't hurt him like that. Not again. It broke her heart knowing how he had suffered in the two years it had taken Cerberus to resurrect her. His words on Horizon had torn her apart and she had spent countless hours lying in bed in her quarters, staring up at the stars and replaying his words in her mind. Her inability to articulate her feelings to him that day had enraged him further, caused his words to lacerate her heart deeper and deeper. Even with all of that, she could not blame him for his reaction. She knew what it felt like to survive the event that took the life of the person you loved more than anything in the galaxy… after all, she had lost her first boyfriend in the attack on Mindoir. She understood Kaidan's pain all too well and she blamed herself for it. How was she supposed to articulate all of that in one simple message?
The expression in his warm brown eyes told her that he had forgiven any perceived slight, reminded her that he was here for her and supported her. A small, almost imperceptible smile graced his lips and Shepard felt her heart soar. She returned the smile and found her strength in his eyes.
It was going to be a long day.