Author's Note: Hello my lovelies! Sorry on the long delay, finally getting settled into the new place. Gonna get on the ball of getting you guys new chapters each week. I"ll do my best!
enjoy! And, as always, Read and Review please!
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Praying this goes well, Shepard opens the door to engineering and steps in, looking for Anders.
Stepping around the console just before the catwalk to the core of the ship, she sees Anders standing at a console in front of the drive core, running diagnostics.
She comes to a stop behind him snapping to attention, "Sir, Lieutenant Anders."
He turns around and when he sees Shepard a scowl comes across his aged features, "Yes, Lieutenant JG Shepard? Can I help you?"
"Sir, permission to speak freely, sir." She deliberately looks past him at the console, fighting back nerves.
Anders raises an eyebrow, then nods, a curious look on his face, "Permission granted, Shepard."
Shepard takes a deep breath before looking him in the eye, "Sir, with all due respect, I am feeling conflicted on how it is you address and treat me, sir. Have I done something to piss you off that I don't know of? I have plenty of ideas to offer you that can improve the efficiency of engineering and the ship. If you would just let me try them." She pauses, unsure what to say next, fearing she may have already pissed him off.
Instead he chuckles, surprising Shepard, "Shepard, you have never served under a old salt like me, have you? Someone who can see potential in others."
Shepard shakes her head, "No sir. The captain mentioned something of the kind. That you are hardest on those with potential. Do I show that potential? Is that why you are so harsh?"
Anders outright laughs, "Girl, you show more than just potential. You are unbridled raw talent, and for that, I ride you harder than the rest, to see how much you can take before bursting at me." He laughs again, "It's been a good long while since I had anyone like you under me. Most pop after just a few weeks, maybe a month, before they request transfers to easier assignments. You child, you impress me with your resilience in keeping your tongue and doing scut work."
"Sir," Shepard looks to him, genuinely confused, "Why be so hard on me? What does that accomplish? Would it not be better to show me what you think and let me work?"
He chuckles again, "I don't want to work with a bunch of airheads who think they know it all. By being tough it weeds out those who aren't worth my time."
"So, am I worth your time?" Shepard hedges, before amending with "Sir?'
Anders outright guffaws with laughter, "You, youngin, you are very worth my time. Now come on, I've got a lot to teach you. And maybe, just maybe, this old salt can learn a thing or two from you."
Shepard grins in return, following Anders back towards the drive core, ready and happy to finally be on the track of learning.
…
Shepard ducks back into the mess, diving behind one of the tables, swearing as she does so when shots ring out, barely missing her head as she gets into cover.
"Son of a bitch." She growls, drawing her sidearm she glances over the upended table at the doors to see three mercs enter the mess hall and firing randomly at all the upended tables. Shepard gives thanks that the emergency lighting is dim, just deck lights and strobing overhead lights. It keeps them from seeing her clearly.
Taking deep breaths, not being the praying type, she begs silently that they don't continue shooting or search the room. Her pistol is only good if they get close, and if they're close enough for her pistol to do damage, she's a dead woman. Their rifles have much longer ranges and more power behind the shots.
If she wants to get out of this alive, she needs to be very careful, and very lucky. She wonders again on what had happened;
They came from nowhere, surprising the Dauntless. Their first shots took out the shields then the engines went. Her and Anders had been working near the drive core when the attack came, a relay nearby them exploded from overloading. Anders took the full force of the blast as he dove to cover her, she looks to the burns that stretch across her left arm, from forearm up to her shoulder and wonders again why he did what he did. He died within minutes of the blast, ordering her to get to the communications room, to get out a SOS signal to the Alliance.
The invaders had boarded the ship not moments later, forcing her to have to take cover here in the mess, listening as hard as she can to what they are saying at the doors.
"Look, boss lady says clear the ship. That's what we're doing, let's go." One of them has a gruff voice.
"There's someone in here." This one has a whine to his voice.
"Keep searching if you want." Another with a more commanding voice, "We don't need three people to search one small mess hall. Let's go, leave him to clear the room. We've got a lot of ship left to cover."
Shepard doesn't dare breath her sigh of relief as she hears the doors shut and sees a flashlight come on, sweeping the room. The owner of the light comes into view facing away from her, searching along the edges of the room, sweeping his light back and forth along the floor.
Getting to her hands and knees Shepard crawls as carefully and quietly as she can. Slowly going from one table to the next, behind the upturned ones and under those still standing. Making her way closer to the merc, she gets around behind him and stands. Quickly she covers the few steps to him and puts her pistol to the back of his head, firing point blank into his skull.
He drops, dead in an instant, his face blown out. Grabbing his rifle, she dares not to think on how she feels unjust at shooting him in the back, she makes her way to the service hatch along the back of the mess hall, set into the deck.
She opens the hatch and drops into the cramped tunnel underneath. Crawling on her belly she makes her way under the decks as fast as she can, aiming for the hatch that she knows will lead to up into medbay not far from the mess hall.
She pushes the hatch open just a crack, glad to not see anyone in the bay. Opening the hatch the rest of the way, she climbs out and hisses in pain, her hasty bandage in engineering has snagged coming out of the tunnel and ripped off, taking some of the burned skin with it.
She cringes when she sees the burn full on for the first time. Her arm is burned nearly black across her forearm, her elbow and upper arm haven't fared any better, if anything, they're worse off.
She knows it hasn't, not because of how nasty it looks, but because she can barely feel a thing from her elbow to her shoulder. Her skin has burned so bad the edges are peeling and flaking off.
Grimacing and swallowing back her terror she liberally spreads medgel across her entire arm, wrist to shoulder, and grabs a roll of gauze wrap. Tightly wrapping her arm up she hefts the rifle again, glad she will only need her left to stabilize and not hold the brunt of the gun's weight. She doubts her arm could at this point.
She makes her way to the door out into the hall. From where she is, she knows she has to get across the ship without anyone the wiser, or at least, without getting killed.
"Right," She sighs, "Piece of cake…"