Note: This one came as a surprise to me, but the idea for the interview suggested itself while I was writing the main storyline. What the Commander actually has to say will be revealed there, and not before.

Liara will be next, and that will be the last of these, unless inspiration strikes again. Please review if you enjoy.

xxxx

Emily Wong walked slowly out of the lift. Though the view of the nebula from the docking ring was beautiful, her attention was on the frigate that occupied the nearest berth. She was no expert on military matters, but the hull design was unfamiliar, and gleamed like new. SSV Normandy, read the blocky letter painted on the side.

She had received, out of nowhere, a cryptic message from the Commander Shepard, with little more than a promise of a career-making story and directions. The bored man at the desk in the Alliance offices had issued her a pass without argument, assigned her a pair of handsome marines as an escort, and sent her on.

Her escort clunked along behind her. Their armor looked terribly uncomfortable, and she couldn't help but wonder what they did if they needed to pee. Hold it in, probably.

However badly they needed to relieve themselves, the men continued to escort her into the Normandy's airlock, and through the decontamination cycle. The hatch opened, and she stepped onto the ship's bridge. With the ship in port, the deck was mostly quiet, the row of computer consoles dark. A man wearing lieutenant commander's insignia approached her, his polished boots making a softer thump than the armored marines. His hair showed a touch of grey, a nice compliment to his confident, blue-grey eyes.

"Miss Wong? Commander Shepard is in the briefing room, at the end of the deck." He gestured down the narrow bridge. The label over the door was nearly legible from where she stood.

"Thanks," Emily said, smiling brightly. "Hey-have you served with the Commander very long?"

"No, ma'am. The Normandy is only three weeks out of dry dock. I was transferred here from the Hastings."

"So you don't have any idea what this is about?"

"No," he replied, dismissing her with a nod as he returned to his duties. "Excuse me, ma'am."

So, a new ship. A new design? The would explain the extra security. She would have liked to have a look around, but she knew her escort wouldn't take kindly to it, so she made her way straight to the briefing room. The door had a handprint scanner, and a set of buttons. She pressed the green one, and the heavy grey portal unsealed, before sliding aside.

Kara Shepard stopped talking in mid-sentence. She looked exactly like in the vids-dark red hair, unkempt, worn just a little over ear-length, elegant features, and striking green eyes. The only thing missing was her neatly pressed dress uniform, complete with medals. Instead, she wore civilians clothes, a tunic in an oriental style, and pale green, and black, straight legged trousers.

Emily didn't recognize the man Shepard conversed with, but he had on an Alliance uniform, with captain's tabs. She assumed the Normandy was his ship. He turned to face her, more than a little baffled by her presence. "Who are you?"

"Captain, this is a friend of mine-I have some business with her. If you'll excuse us." Though politely spoken, it sounded incredibly insubordinate to Emily, not just because it began with a lie. She dismissed him.

"Fine, Shepard," the Captain grumbled. He nodded at her on his way out, "Miss."

Very odd, Emily decided. Why would the captain defer to her like that? Shepard didn't say anything more, watching her in silence until the door had sealed again. Then she got up, and activated the lock. Another oddity.

"Thanks for coming, Miss Wong." Shepard spoke softly, hardly the loud, confident tone expected from an officer.

"Any good reporter would have, Commander. Your message was intriguingly vague."

"Kara," Shepard said, returning to her chair, and gesturing that Emily should join her. "I've got two stories for you. The first you can do with as you like, if you'll do what I ask with the second. Here." She turned her seat, and switch on the display. A brief command later, and a man's face appeared on the screen.

"This is Fist, one of the Citadel's many successful criminals. He's in CSec custody, pending trial for attempted murder. I put him there. While going through his office, I found this." Shepard drew a data disk from a pocket. "Fist's private records. Finances, CSec contacts-everything."

Without studying the data herself, Emily couldn't say exactly how much usable material it contained, but it did sound career-making. "So is this the first story, or the second?"

"I'm the second story. You're going to get an exclusive interview."

"Your fifteen minutes from Elysium is over, Commander. Why would I agree to that?" Emily asked. It was true-the Skyllian Blitz was old news, and Shepard mostly forgotten.

"Call me Kara," Shepard insisted. "I'm not in uniform, and you're not military."

"Kara," Emily repeated. It felt strange. She admired Shepard, or the media version of her, in many ways. That Shepard was down-to-earth, straight-talking, dedicated to the Alliance, and avoided media attention. This version was more enigmatic, and less heroic, but still Shepard. She deserved respect.

"I've been made a Council Spectre," Shepard said.

Emily stared in shock. That news would earn Shepard a prime place on every news outlet in Alliance space. An exclusive interview would bring them both added attention, only Kara hadn't been interested before. What had changed? She was a Spectre now, but that alone couldn't account for it. "Congratulations, Kara, but why do you want an interview now?"

"I have something important to say," Kara replied. "Something the Alliance will prefer was not heard."

Everyone with a pinch of sense knew the government was corrupt. Most people accepted it, and tried to get along, if not get a piece for themselves. Emily had always tried the former, but what Kara asked would put her on the front lines. That could make and end her career all at once, leaving her working for indie newsletters and extranet news vids. It was not the career of her dreams. "I can't help you, Commander. Sorry."

If the decision surprised Kara, it didn't show. She looked down at her hands, and the silence stretched interminably. What was she thinking? Why didn't she shout, announce her disappointment, make threats? Military people, especially marines, were supposed to the brash and intimidating, but Kara looked-

Emily couldn't decide how she looked. Out-of-place seemed like an apt description. More than a little masculine, with her short hair and modest outfit. She wore neither makeup nor jewelry. Her feet were bare.

Small, Emily decided. Kara looked small, uncertain, and not in control. She looked like the entire galaxy stood against her. The air of confidence and authority she projected remained, but could not entirely conceal the truth.

Kara looked up, shattering her perfect stillness as much as her soft voice rent the silence. Her green eyes were intense, confident-a far cry from the weakness Emily perceived just a moment before. "What is a journalist who won't tell the truth?"

A propagandist, Emily's brain supplied. To color a report with one's perspective was inevitable, but to omit or alter important details was to lie. Shepard had a right to explain her side. She sighed inwardly. She had never been able to control her sense of duty. "... you win, Kara," she said.

"No," Shepard replied, still holding Emily's gaze. "You did."