It had been 3 days since they left the planet's orbit. They had been in the arse end of nowhere and even at FTL speeds it would take a long time to reach the Citadel. The whole crew was tense, nerves fraying and tempers snapping. Morale was the lowest she'd ever seen and following a shipwide ban on booze by an irate Chakwas, most people went straight to bed when they weren't on duty.

Samantha however, couldn't sleep, so was tucked in one corner of the mess hall with a data pad. Chakwas had left the med bay to do another tour of the refugees in the cargo hold and all was quiet. A sudden noise made her look up, rushing over to the kitchen counter with concern.

"Commander! What are you doing?" The soldier half turned, faint scar lines glowing softly against her face, one hand clamped to her side, the other loosely clutching the coffee pot.

"Makin' coffeee." There was a slight slur to the speech. The kind that occurs when the brain is either fighting through a fog of exhaustion or a haze of painkillers. This could be either... or both.

"but you shouldn't be..."

"Are you saying I can't make coffee on my own ship!" Apparently anger could cut a clear line through the fog. As if the growl hadn't been enough of a clue to the commander's mood Traynor thought she saw a flash of red behind the eyes.

"No, no... it's not that." She furiously backpedalled remembering an email sent by Joker to all personnel after first leaving the Citadel. It had been titled 'Working with the Commander; how to not get killed'. Everyone had had a good laugh before the differently worded memo by Dr Chakwas appeared shortly after 'just to clarify'.

"I just meant..." Shit, come on brain what could I mean? "If you sit down I can make you some fresh. This stuff's been stewing for hours." For a moment it looked like the commander would argue but a grunt and a nod signified her consent. The slight grimace and tightening of fingers against her body clearly indicated the decision making process. Regardless, she slumped down into a chair and with a sigh of relief Traynor turned to her task.

It reminded Samantha of a dog. Surely human's did it too, but there was something about the way the commander's eyes would half close, and then jerk back to fully open for a moment before the lids slowly started to droop again that reminded her of an exhausted pet desperate not to miss anything.

"No!" The firm voice made Traynor freeze. "You don't need an omni-tool to make coffee."

"I'm sure Dr. Chakwas would"

"not have left me unattended if she was even slightly concerned." Well I suppose there is logic in that. Or maybe she just expected the sedative to last until she got back.

"So..." A mug is placed in front of her and the commander takes a sip before continuing. "How long this time?"

"Three days."

"Hmm, better than two years I suppose. I better get up to the war room, find out how much worse everything has got."

"I... can't work out if you're being negative about our allies or just have a really high opinion about yourself."

"Oh, I don't buy into all that hero hype about me. I just happen to have noticed a rather worrying trend. The beacon on Eden Prime knocked me out for 15 hours. Saren and the geth take a tour of the galaxy with Sovereign headlining. Then I wake up after two years of... whatever they're calling it, and there's sodding Collectors everywhere. Then I lose almost two days in the Bahak and..." Looking down at the table Shepard takes another gulp of coffee before finishing in a low sombre voice: "Well... Let's just say it's best if we try to keep me conscious and not tempt fate."

"What did happen in the Bahak system Commander?" Her head jerked up at the question, shoulders tensing, eyes locking with Traynor's. They seemed to burn as she snarled.

"Didn't you hear Specialist? Genocide happened. I'm a fucking mass murderer. Slaughterer of the innocent. It must have been on ANN."

Of course she'd heard, but it had been hard to associate such accusations with the woman who'd saved Elysium, Feros, the Citadel and most of Horizon. To hear it first hand was different. There was a saying: the eyes are a window to the soul and as she stared into that face it was clear the commander's soul was looking back from the depths of Hell. The only question being, was she there as sinner or devil? Traynor picked up the metaphorical bottle and without knowing if it would be water or petrol, she poured...

"You must have had a reason..."

The flame flickered out. Shoulders slumped. Face looked haggard and drawn.

"The end justifies the means? That's becoming an increasingly popular phrase these days. But does it? Does it really? How many times can we use that excuse before we end up like Cerberus? 300,000 lives... Actually I believe it was closer to three-oh-five..."

"The reports said you claimed the reapers were on us. That you bought us time..."

"YES! AND LOOK HOW THEY SPENT THAT TIME! Six months on a damn trial! Should I be stood against a wall and shot or strapped to a chair? How can they take me at my word when there's no sign of reapers? Throw me in a varren pit or set me on fire? Of course I'd slaughter batarians, I was at Mindoir and the Blitz. Bah! Only thing that even gave them pause was when I said I'd have done the same to a human colony..."

"If you hadn't they would still have died. Maybe someone listened and prepared. Hey, at least it gave us time to retrofit the Normandy." The attempt at lightheartedness appeared to go unnoticed.

"It was necessary. I know that. But that doesn't make it right. I pressed the button and all those deaths are on me. At some point in this war I know I might have to make that call again, and I will. Sometimes there's little choice. I will always do what's necessary, but the day I think it's acceptable... When I finally forget that mass sacrifice means tragedy... that's the line..."

There was silence for a moment. Before the woozy look started settling on Shepard's face once more, confusion appearing alongside.

"Hang on! Why are we talking about this? How... I would never be talki... YOU!" Traynor tried not to jump as the commander pointed at her. The quickly changing moods were hard to adapt to.

"You, Specialist! You're techie, get in Chakwas' files and find out what drugs she's got me on."

"Umm, I'm not sure the Alliance would take kindly to hacking confidential patient files..."

"True, you're far too pretty for a firing squad. Give me the 'tool and I'll do it!"

Traynor froze in shock, mouth agape as she tried to keep up. Why would I get the firing squad for that? I was thinking docked pay, a note on my file, maybe a dishonourable discharge... Wait, pretty? Did the commander just call me pretty? Well it doesn't mean anything, she must be doped up fairly high right now. Yeah, so high she's been talking openly about things she would never talk about.

"Omni-tool..." Shepard sat with her hand out expectantly. "... Please?"

The silence was broken by the quiet sound of the elevator opening. Shepard crouched down low as Dr Chakwas appeared and gave a conspiratorial whisper to Traynor.

"As soon as she's through the med bay door, we leg it to the lift. Got it?" Traynor looked at her C.O. appraisingly. Specifically how she was sat cross legged on a mess hall stool and the left hand that had been clenched tight to the body throughout the entire conversation. Her calculations on which direction the officer would most likely fall over in upon moving were fortunately interrupted.

"Shit! She's seen us... She's coming over"

"Commander. You're awake." Small bags were starting to form under the doctor's eyes but there was no tiredness in her voice as she remained consummately professional. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." The response fired back almost before the question was finished. Shepard finally removing her supportive hand, sitting up straight and alert. The doctor merely shook her head.

"Commander you have four broken..."

"WHY!? Why ask how I am if you're just going to ignore me in favour of your medical mumbo jumbo?" The deception having clearly failed, the hand returned to position. Chakwas employing a tight lipped smile.

"Because one day you might tell me the truth."

"Commander Shepard, Alliance military, service number: 5923-AC-2826. Commander Shepard, Allia..." Traynor's initial fear is soothed as she observed the genuine smiles between the two women, apparently enjoying a long standing joke.

"Come on Shepard. Back to the med bay." One smile instantly vanishes, replaced by the usual stubbornness associated with Commander Bloody Shepard.

"No. Three days is long enough. I'm going to the War room. Damn Galaxy's not going to fix itself you know."

"Shepard!" The doctor's tone is stern now, gaze calculating.

"I accept your word as law in the med bay but look, we're outside. You're too late. My ship, my rules." She's managed to stand up, arms folded, glare fixed. "You don't like it find another berth". Chakwas sighs resignedly.

"OK Commander, if you can make it to the war room, WALKING and without leaning on anything, then I'll declare you fit for duty." Smiling victoriously Shepard takes a step forward. "But... Fail and you will not only return to the med bay until I free you, but my jurisdiction will increase so that you have to follow the command 'report to the med bay', along with any other medical instructions, including the taking of medication, when ordered anywhere on this vessel or planet side." Shepard stops moving. "Do you accept my challenge Commander?"

...

"... Do you think I'm brain damaged Doc?" Shepard scowls, Chakwas represses a smile. "That would make you bloody omni-potent. What makes you think I'll agree to those terms?"

"Because that's the only terms you'll get. Unless, you return to med bay and we keep the status quo. Your choice Commander."

Shepard manages five more steps before stopping. Her right hand clenches tight into a fist, after a few seconds it starts glowing with biotic energy. Chakwas hasn't moved since making the ultimatum but now tilts her head towards Specialist Traynor.

"Are you OK Samantha? You appear to be in shock." Traynor simply nods mutely, eyes still locked on the commander.

"I BLOODY HATE YOU!" comes the call as she turns left towards the med bay. A further three steps before finally collapsing to the floor.