A/N: Bioware owns the universe and associated characters; I just write about it.
Shepard's trial had been a complete farce.
She had expected that, of course. It was political, and all politics, in her experience, were bullshit. Her trial, however, had been the most finely crafted bit of bullshit she had ever seen and, as a Council Spectre and officer in the Systems Alliance Navy, Shepard had seen a lot.
With a sigh she looked around at her stark white surroundings. These rooms were designed to drive a person insane, she thought absently. Her new accommodations were only temporary; she had been informed that she would only remain in the holding facility on Arcturus until "transportation to a more secure facility" could be arranged. It seemed to her that she should have been transferred by now. She had long since stopped keeping track of the days. It was better if she lost track of time in this place… better if she lost track of reality. Shepard's reality was contained within these three white walls and the fourth made of a strange, transparent material that was neither plastic nor glass, wherein she performed only the most basic functions of living.
Most of the time she slept. Life was easier while she was asleep. Sometimes she dreamed; on good nights, she was back on the Normandy, celebrating her freedom with all of her friends and crew, while on bad nights, she found herself trapped again in the rubble on Mindoir. Shepard relished all of her dreams, even the bad ones. They were an escape from the walls, the walls that were always watching, always felt like they were creeping ever closer.
You're losing it. Walls don't move, she told herself as she leaned her head back against the wall behind her. Shepard sat on her cot with her arms wrapped around her knees, contemplating her immediate future. She was craving human interaction, so she thought that she might talk at her guards later tonight. They were under strict orders not to communicate with her, but sometimes a particularly sympathetic guard would engage her in conversation. Most of the time, though, they behaved like the historical guards that stood outside of Buckingham Palace hundreds of years ago: stoic, never even flinching at the slightest movement or sound. Though they didn't respond, it was nice to hear a human voice… even if that voice was her own. You are really losing your mind. Looking forward to talking to yourself? Insane.
For now, though, Shepard let her mind wander. It was the easiest way to cope with being awake. Often she wondered where her crew was and what they were doing; she often hoped that Jack and Miranda weren't trying to kill each other, even though such event would surely make for an entertaining story to hear when she returned to her ship. If she ever returned to her ship.
She missed everything about that ship. She missed her cabin. She missed her stupid little space hamster she had purchased on a whim while on the Citadel. She missed the stupid fish tank that was less of a fish tank and more of a death trap for any creature unfortunate enough to call the tank its new home. She missed her collection of model ships; she had always liked to pretend that she was watching a battle against the Reapers taking place in the little glass case. She missed the picture frame, placed next to her terminal in such a way that it was always in sight; she liked being able to pretend that Kaidan was there with her, watching her work. It always made the loneliness a bit easier to bear, if only for a little while.
Kaidan. The one person in the whole goddamned galaxy she felt she could trust without question, the one friend she had who didn't have questionable connections, the only person she could trust who hadn't been associated with Cerberus… the one member of her old crew who had doubted her. The doubt and anger he had expressed on Horizon had initially angered her. She had no right to be angry, she knew that, but it hadn't changed how she felt. She had hoped that Kaidan would understand, that he would be willing to look past her forced alliance with Cerberus, but she should have expected his reaction. She knew what it was like to lose a lover, but to see the person you love standing in front of you after spending two years dead? It had to be shocking. She couldn't blame Kaidan for being angry with her; had their roles been reversed, she probably would have thought that he had been alive and lied to her too. After coming to that realization, her anger had eventually abated… and then she had gotten his message.
It had broken her heart; the words that the message bore said spoke volumes in and of themselves, but reading between the lines told her more. It seemed that he had never stopped loving her and his love for her had almost destroyed him after her death. And if she knew Kaidan, he had thrown himself into his work after her death and probably never allowed himself a moment to truly grieve. She guessed that he had only just started to come to terms with her death when rumors about her return began to circulate. How confused and hurt must he have been to hear those rumors, to believe that she could be alive, that her death might have been an elaborate lie?
No. Shepard didn't want to think about that. She didn't like knowing that she had hurt him, however unintentional her transgressions had been. He had stood with her, even when the Alliance decided to turn its back. He had been called upon to testify at her trial. In retrospect, she shouldn't have been surprised. Kaidan had been part of her crew in the fight against Sovereign, after all. Shepard closed her eyes and immersed herself in the memory of the events that had transpired at her all-too-recent trial.
"Commander Alenko, you were assigned to the Normandy SR-1 under Shepard's command, correct?"
"That's correct." Kaidan's tone was even, giving no indication of any thought or emotion.
"Would you be willing to describe your time aboard the Normandy and what it was like serving under Commander Shepard?"
Shepard found herself suppressing a grin at the prosecutor's choice of words. Kaidan could certainly describe what it had been like to serve under her; she recalled a time when they had joked about the turn of phrase when they had been alone in her quarters. For his part, however, Kaidan gave no indication that such things had ever happened. Instead, he nodded and replied, "Certainly."
He launched into a brief retelling of the events leading up to the fight against Sovereign. The man didn't miss a thing; from Eden Prime to Virmire and beyond, he covered everything with the smallest amount of detail necessary. It was clear that he had done this before and had the story down to a science. Shepard didn't miss the lack of detail he applied to the time between the mutiny of the SR-1 and the ship's arrival at Ilos, something for which she was grateful. This was not the time for their previous relations to become public knowledge.
"You admit to being involved with the mutiny of a prototype warship?" the prosecutor interjected.
"I do. Shepard did what she had to do to stop Saren and all of us supported her. If she had allowed the Council to keep us grounded, we wouldn't be sitting here right now. The Reapers would have invaded right then and there and where would we be then?"
The almost imperceptible buzz of quiet whispers fell completely silent at the mention of the mythical race of sentient machines. The prosecutor merely raised an eyebrow. "You believe that the Reapers truly are a threat and are not a figment of Shepard's imagination?"
"I was part of the ground team on Virmire and on Ilos. I was there when Shepard spoke to Sovereign and again when Saren admitted that he was an agent of the Reapers. I heard the Prothean VI talk about what the Reapers did to the Protheans and how they wiped out an entire galaxy. I've seen enough proof with my own eyes to know that yes, the Reapers are real. Does that answer your question?"
"It does. Just one more and we can conclude. What can you tell us of the nature of your relationship with Commander Shepard?"
"She was my commanding officer." Kaidan didn't miss a beat. "Beyond that, I'm afraid I can't comment on the nature of any relationship I may or may not have had with the commander."
Shepard didn't recall much after Kaidan's testimony. It had all been political and judicial gibberish, nothing she really understood or cared to understand. At that point, she knew that she had another ally in the fight against the Reapers and it had been comforting knowing that, once she was locked away, there were people outside of her crew who would fight against the Reapers. She didn't know that Kaidan would agree with that sentiment, however. When last she saw him, he had been gesturing angrily to Admiral Hackett, who seemed to be trying to calm the younger man down. She hadn't witnessed more than that, though, as she had been led out of the courtroom at that point.
Suddenly Shepard found herself wondering what was going on in the world that existed outside of her little cell. Being locked away made one's mind prone to such distractions of thought and Shepard was no exception. She wondered where the Reapers were. Did they have yet another backup plan for entering the galaxy? When the tentacled bastards managed to worm their way back into the Milky Way, would the species currently inhabiting the galaxy be prepared? Or would the Council continue to deny the existence of the Reaper threat even as the sentient machines surrounded the Citadel?
At some point in her rambling, wandering thoughts, Shepard had fallen asleep. She was suddenly aware of the fact that the guard posted outside of her cell was now a male instead of a female. When did that happen and how deeply was she sleeping that she missed the shift change? Things like this were happening to her all too often. It made Shepard feel like her already tenuous grasp on reality was loosening by the moment. How long before she completely lost her mind? Had she already lost her mind and she only thought she was sane?
"Stop it," she murmured to herself. Her voice was hoarse from disuse. "If you start thinking like that, you will go insane and if you go insane, you'll just prove all of those assholes right. You can't have that."
Says the woman talking to herself, she thought bitterly. This room really is making you crazy.
And that was when she saw it, a burst of indigo light out of the corner of her eye. Shepard was off of her cot and crouching near the ground in an instant. She wasn't a biotic herself, but she had fought against as well as at the side of enough individuals who had biotic abilities to be able to recognize when they were being used. Her guard was now nowhere in sight. She assumed that the poor man had been thrown down the hall and had probably been knocked unconscious by the blast.
It had to be a hell of a kick to launch the guard out of sight of her cell. A fleeting thought crossed her mind: was it one of her crew? She had a number of powerful biotics onboard her ship, all of whom would be capable of such a feat. But what would they be doing here? Were they trying to break her out?
They wouldn't. She had given them strict orders not to rescue her if she was to be taken prisoner. If the Normandy docked at Arcturus, it would be impounded immediately and the crew's plan would have been foiled before it had ever truly begun. But what if they had defied her orders? It wouldn't be unlike her crew to do such a thing; they were her crew, after all, and she would have tried to break any of them out despite what they had asked of her. It wouldn't be unlike any of them to try and stage a rescue attempt.
But what if it wasn't her crew? It could easily be someone who believed she was a significant threat and needed to be put down; whoever was out there could be here to kill her. She hunkered closer to the floor, trying to present the smallest possible target. Shepard wished she was armed… or that she at least had something in her cell that could be used as a makeshift weapon. She gave the room a cursory glance, even though she already knew what it contained. There was nothing. Whoever had set the cell up for her arrival knew what they were doing and had ensured that nothing could be used as a weapon. She swore.
That was when the door suddenly slid open, startling her from her thoughts. She mentally berated herself for allowing herself to become distracted from the situation at hand. A well-armed and armored figure stepped through the door. Shepard rose to a standing position, immediately recognizing the face of her savior. "What in the hell are you doing here?"
