Fly By Night

by LockNRoll

She cuts loose her life with the Reds and finds a new home in the Alliance as an elite agent with a terrifying reputation. One man sees through it all, and at last she understands what it is to have something you're afraid to lose. ME1-3, F!Shenko.

7. Echoes

Chapter 7: Echoes

Shepard

So much had changed since I'd been on the Citadel last. And yet, here I was, spitting out a rant about goddamn higher-ups again as Kaidan and Ashley followed behind. I didn't know when I stopped thinking of them as Alenko and Williams. It seemed like a distant memory.

"Who the fuck does he think he is, anyway?" I demanded, turning back to the two of them as we entered the elevator to the Presidium. Mikhailovich had pissed me off to no end. It was bad enough that I'd been out of action for over a week while Chakwas made me rest my shoulder but as soon as I'd been let off the ship this idiot with an axe to grind had confronted me with a laundry list of complaints about everything from the fine points of my mission to the Normandy's very existence. I didn't cope well with undeserved criticism, and maybe, just maybe, my new Untouchable Spectre status had gone to my head as far as respecting the chain of command went.

Ashley's voice was rich with sarcasm as she answered my non-question, "I think he said he was a Rear Admiral, Commander."

"And that means I should just sit back and let him say all that shit about me, my ship and my crew?"

"I thought you handled it pretty well, considering," Kaidan said in his 'on the bright side' voice that I'd got so used to, "for a second there I really thought you were gonna hit him."

"He told me to 'secure my mouth'," I spat, still not believing he'd come out with those words, "What the hell does that even mean? He's happy to send me out to kill for the Alliance, but telling him he's got his facts ass-backwards is a bridge too far?"

"Can't do much now, Commander," he said with a shrug, "besides, I'm sure whoever he's reporting to will set him straight. We're doing a good job out there, the Alliance knows it, so do the Council."

Kaidan's expression was one of calm, carefree resignation, and his half-smile wasn't something I could scowl at. I still lifted my chin in a gesture of defiance as I turned back to the elevator doors, watching the wards zoom by through the glass. He may have hit the nail on the head but that didn't mean I was ready to stop being livid.

"They should have set him straight before he decided to board my ship and make it his personal mission to piss me off. Today was supposed to be fun."

"For you, maybe," Kaidan replied, almost sulkily. While Ashley and I were heading to the Alliance armoury, Kaidan was off to one of the best doctors for human biotics in the galaxy to have his amp looked at. I didn't know what that involved, but seeing as the amp was embedded at the base of his skull, it didn't exactly sound like a riot. He insisted it was fine but Chakwas could be very persuasive, and after what she'd told me about the instability of L2 implants, I wasn't going to take any chances. I shrugged at him, a smirk on my lips. I was looking forward to getting my new, state-of-the-art hardsuit. At least it would mean I could get back in the field and stop directing missions from aboard the Normandy.

The elevator ground to a halt at our level and Ashley and I stepped outside.

I shot him a glance over my shoulder, "Two hours, Alenko. See you then."

As we walked towards the armoury I caught a strange, mischievous look on Ashley's face. When I turned to her she glanced away but couldn't hide the 'I-know-something-you-don't' expression.

I sighed, "What?"

"Nothing, Skipper," she said immediately, her expression one of total innocence.

"Nothing my ass," I mumbled in response, trying not to think about how Kaidan was only in hospital because I'd almost got myself killed. I wished I'd been awake to see what he did. From what Ashley said it sounded pretty incredible. I didn't even know you could do that with a biotic barrier.

Besides, I didn't need to ask her what that look was for. I knew what she was thinking. The problem was, I wasn't entirely sure if she was wrong.

I knew Kaidan had a soft spot for me – the past week had made that pretty clear, what with the two of us under explicit instructions to take it easy and let others handle the minor assignments we were given. I still oversaw the missions, gave orders from the Normandy's comm link, but otherwise there'd been nothing for me to do but read reports and try to heal. Kaidan's wound was relatively minor, but after nearly overloading his amp he was also ship-bound until he could get it checked out. It was inevitable, really, that we'd pass some of the time in each other's company, at least when he wasn't crippled by a migraine.

I learned little facts about him that I found equal parts bizarre and fascinating. He liked old 2D movies, thought hot weather was overrated, and wanted to teach other biotics when he got too old for active duty. He enjoyed cooking and Sunday mornings and whiskey. He lived in Vancouver, for fuck's sake. I'd never met someone so normal before. It was strange that, despite our lives up to this point being so different, we seemed to share a lot of opinions about everything from galactic politics to scuttlebutt gossip. And though I could easily say with a straight face that I didn't have a soft spot for him, that was just because I was an exceptionally good liar.

A few days ago he'd taken it upon himself to give me a lesson in how to use my new upgraded omnitool to break through some of the more advanced encryptions we'd come across on assignments. I already knew the basics, of course, but I always got him or Garrus or Tali or anyone else to hack through a console or break open a lock when brute force wouldn't suffice. My training in the Alliance was focused on developing the considerable combat skills I already possessed and I had no real interest in learning how to hunt out certain hidden segments from a clusterfuck of coding, but Kaidan insisted I may as well pick up a few tricks while I was ship-bound.

So we'd stood by that console of his, he created a virtual OS for me to infiltrate, and surrounded it with a firewall so thick that even Tali would have taken a few minutes to crack it. It took me almost an hour the first time, but that wasn't entirely my fault. He'd been standing right there, every so often leaning over me to point something out on my omnitool or the screen, his well-muscled arm brushing against mine, a faint smile on his face at my total incompetence. The console wasn't the only source of my frustration, and I'd snapped that he was just enjoying being better at something than I was for once. He'd replied that I wasn't wrong, but that he'd take what he could get when it came to me. And then he'd pointed out a huge gaping hole in the code I'd pieced together, and chuckled at the way my face screwed up in irritation.

Ashley had walked past, and we'd both straightened up immediately to act like the hardened professionals we were. She'd given us a knowing look and as soon as she was gone we'd relaxed, and when our eyes met, reluctant, almost shy, there was a moment when I knew he knew, just as I did, that this, whatever we had, wasn't the same as the easy camaraderie I'd built with the other members of the crew. There was a certain atmosphere that could only exist between the two of us, alone, and I didn't know what it was, all I knew was I liked it. It was like nothing I'd felt before. But I liked it.

It felt good, I thought, to admit a little weakness. I was supposed to be one of the most dangerous people in the galaxy, but standing with him, letting myself laugh at my own stupid mistakes, letting myself flirt with my own Lieutenant...it felt good. It felt lighthearted in a way that was unfamiliar but still so warm and inviting. There was a way he'd look up at me sometimes, with a self-conscious smile and a dark, intense stare that made my stomach twist into knots that I knew wasn't just sexual frustration. It was stupid. I'd seen no end of tall, dark marines with broad shoulders and chiselled faces in my time. He shouldn't have had any effect on me at all. He didn't at the start.

I told myself, once again, that it was harmless.

oOoOoOo

I loved my new hardsuit. Sleek and black, with accents the colour of red wine and bright crimson lights dotted about. It looked almost as good off as it did on, I thought as I saw it piled on a nearby worktop, a master craftsman busying himself making adjustments to a few pieces so they'd fit my body like a second skin.

Ashley had already gone back to the Normandy, a glint in her eye as she shouldered one of several boxes of new toys for the ship's armoury. It had been a good trip, and after what had happened with the Rear Admiral I was in surprisingly good spirits.

There was a full-length mirror in front of me, the same one in which I'd admired the almost-perfect fit of my new hardsuit barely ten minutes ago. Now, though, all I wore was the thin, black undersuit made of some of the most advanced material the galaxy could offer. As I turned this way and that, I saw the lines of circuitry reflected back at me from the curves of my body, running down the suit like drops of water trailing across skin. I put my hands on my hips and regarded my figure. The fabric left very little to the imagination, and every curve of muscle, hip and breast was obvious. I loved my body, my athletic frame, well-built legs and lithe arms. It was powerful, like a machine. I could do anything with it.

So when I heard the door open, it gave me a cheap little thrill to see Kaidan appear in the mirror behind me, especially when his eyes travelled up my legs until he apparently saw something he liked and just stared for a moment, his mouth falling open ever so slightly. Very little could flatter my body as well as a black, skintight undersuit – I knew it, and apparently he knew it too. That didn't mean I'd let him get away with checking out his commanding officer, though, at least not in public. Keeping my lower body in place I twisted my torso so I could look over one shoulder and glare fiercely at him. The reaction was delicious, though it took him a full three seconds after he met my eyes before he looked embarrassed about it. When he realised what he'd been doing, his mouth worked noiselessly to form an excuse. The sight of someone as together and clean-cut as Kaidan so stunned would keep me warm for a while. Sometimes you had to make yourself laugh.

"Pretty great, isn't it?" I said, trying to keep the smirk from my face. I turned my body to face him, drumming my fingers on my well-toned abdomen as my hands slid down to my hips.

"Yeah," he said quickly, "I mean—no, I...not that it's-"

"The suit, Alenko," I jerked my head towards the disassembled pieces on the table.

"Of course," he said as if I'd just told him the most obvious thing in the world, "Yeah. The suit! It's..." he swallowed, "...it looks pretty great."

It was very, very difficult to keep a straight face. I was a Spectre with my own ship and an arsenal full of weapons, but this was a wholly different kind of power, a kind it was nice to remember I still possessed. I may not have looked like a typically beautiful woman, what with the ink and the buzzcut, but at least my body was honed to perfection.

I didn't let myself think – not even for a second – that the warm flush I felt at seeing Kaidan's reaction was for any other reason. It was nice to be desired, I thought. It was just revenge for when he'd caught me off-guard in the medbay that one time. That was all.

"Commander, ready to check the adjustments?" I didn't know where the armourer had appeared from but suddenly he was there, holding a piece of my hardsuit. It took longer than usual to fit the pieces together around my body – the mechanism that held them together was better, I was told, but it was different and would take some getting used to. At least that goddamn shoulder brace was off. I almost told Kaidan to give me a hand, make him squirm a little, but Ashley's knowing grin flashed through my head and I told myself I should act more like an Alliance Commander and less like a mercenary who hadn't been laid in six months.

That last part was true, though. Fucking regs. It was Anderson's fault, really. On Kovassi Station I'd bumped into Luca, an N5 I'd worked with many times before and with whom I had a longstanding arrangement. I was supposed to meet him the night the Normandy docked to take me to Eden Prime, and I'd had to swallow the mass of sexual frustration brewing in my belly and tell him it would have to be another time. And then this mission started and I'd barely had a moment to myself. I seemed to spend most of my time with Kaidan…

To break the silence I asked him about his implant, and to my relief he told me it was in pretty good shape, considering what it had been through. Apparently there were benefits as well as drawbacks to being an L2, and Kaidan could get away with more than most human biotics could ever hope for. I pressed him for details, and reluctantly he told me that the doctor had said if he upped his usage gradually, let his body get used to it and came back for more regular tune-ups to make sure he wasn't pushing things too far, he'd be able to do even more within the next few years.

I found that strangely exciting. When I met Kaidan it hadn't taken me long to realise he was full to the brim of untapped potential, and biotics were just the start. He was principled, but he wasn't just an idealistic idiot. His head was still screwed firmly on his shoulders, and he understood the world better than most. Talking to him was like...it was like seeing something fantastically weird in the sky, something everyone else was ignoring, and then one person came along, stood next to you, and asked if you could see it too. I'd only met a handful of people that could make me feel that way, like there was someone else in the world that understood, even if they didn't know it all. It made all the insanity surrounding this mission seem…manageable. If he could develop his abilities, I thought, really push past what most people would be happy with and reach his full potential, he could be an elite soldier just like me. We could be equals and I could banish that cloud hanging over our every interaction, the cloud that reminded me he was my Lieutenant and I should really treat him like one.

I told him I looked forward to seeing what he could do, and with a self-conscious chuckle he changed the subject to my shoulder. I said it was fine. Better than fine, in fact. I rolled my arms as the armourer stepped back, marvelling at how much more flexible this set was than my old, mangled hardsuit. The 'N7' logo was painted on the chest. I still prefered it to the Spectre's.

We still had almost an hour before we were supposed to be back on the Normandy. And this was a citadel hour, too. I looked back at Kaidan, saw a pistol by his hip, and formed a plan. I thanked the armourer and gathered up my things.

"C'mon, Alenko," I said, moving towards the door, "I've got an idea."

oOoOoOo

Kaidan

'Spectre status recognised', the VI chimed as the doors slid open, revealing a part of the Citadel I didn't even know existed. Shepard strolled inside the huge room, lit up with consoles, holo displays and wow there were a lot of guns. An entire wall was dominated by a display listing Spectres operating throughout the galaxy. One was in red – Saren's, I noticed – and right down at the bottom, clearly the latest addition, was the woman in front of me. Not for the first time I reminded myself that no matter what happened, I'd still get to say I served alongside the first human Spectre on her first mission. It was an honour, really.

"Am I even allowed to be in here?" I asked, glancing around uncertainly, "The sign says Spectres only, and—"

Shepard twirled around mid stride and shrugged, "Fuck it."

I sighed, trying to hide my smile and wondering when the rules had stopped mattering so much as I followed her in. She moved over to a console by a large, heavily secured door and her fingers flew across the keys.

"Didn't get a chance to try this out last time we were here," she said cryptically. I still had no idea what we were doing. She'd mentioned something about her new hardsuit, but when I thought of that all I could think of was the way the two lines of red light perfectly followed the contours of the back of her body, and the way they curved around-

No, couldn't think like that. I made that mistake only ten minutes ago. My excuse was that I hadn't even realised it was her until I was looking her right in the face, but I wasn't even sure if that was true. I'd never had trouble keeping my eyes front and centre before.

I thought of the pictures on my omnitool, the ones I'd snapped during missions, sometimes just during the downtime in between, and how most had her in them. I told myself it was because I wanted to remember working with the first human Spectre, but by now I was pretty sure that was total bullshit.

"Try out what?" I asked at last. The door in front of us whirred and clunked as its various locks were disengaged, and she looked back at me with that smirk of hers.

"Can't go into combat without testing this baby out first," she explained, gesturing to her own body which was illuminated with red along the folds and joints of her suit.

That was how I found myself in the Spectre firing range with a gun in my hand and Shepard at the other end, a shimmer passing over her body as her shields came up.

She looked up at me expectantly, "Good to go, Alenko. If you manage to hit me I owe you a drink."

I raised the gun and found her in its sights. And then I lowered it and fiddled with the clip.

"I'm using blanks," I said firmly, wondering how she'd ever thought I'd be able to shoot at her with real bullets.

"Blanks?" She scoffed, "Then why should I even try to dodge?"

"I'm not shooting at you with live rounds, Shepard, no matter what you say."

"What if I put the helmet on?"

"I'll still know it's you," I insisted, glaring at her.

She threw her arms up in exasperation, "Fine!" and turned to face the wall opposite me.

Shepard was a force of nature, I'd seen that enough times for myself, but there was at least a hundred yards between me and her, and I was a good shot. Surely I'd be able to get at least one hit.

I tried not to think of all the times I'd seen her tear across a battlefield, moving with the grace of an asari dancer one moment and attacking with the brutality of a krogan warlord the next.

I aimed for the weapon mount right in the centre of her back, where a square of red lights made an easy target in the bright room. She'd left her suit's lights on full blast, a clear insult to my marksmanship. Of course I'd be able to hit her.

I clicked the safety off and pulled the trigger a fraction of a second later but she had already moved, darting to the left and skidding round to face me. I fired again, over and over but every time I got a clear shot she was already gone, feigning from side to side and dashing towards me with a ferocity I'd only ever seen her direct at an enemy. I wasn't trying to go easy on her – I just realised with a cold blast of total certainty that I couldn't actually hit her in the same detached way your body lets you know that you're falling and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.

Within seconds she was in front of me, I tried to fire again but she nudged my arm aside and shoved me back with a palm on my chest – quite gently, I thought, as she hadn't broken anything. I barely felt her, but in an instant the gun was out of my hand and when I looked up at her there she was, arm outstretched, the barrel of my own gun just a few inches from my forehead, her entire posture radiating power and absolute confidence in her own abilities. Her eyes were alight, her breathing even, cheeks barely flushed. My heart gave a heavy thump as the word 'beautiful' burnt up on my tongue.

"Bang," she purred, low and sultry as she mimed the kickback of the pistol and lowered her arm. That perfect smirk was still on her face, the one that said she had total control of the situation and was holding on to several backup plans just in case.

Being on the same side, it was all too easy to forget that Shepard was probably one of the greatest commandos alive, asari included. You could work for a thousand years to try and train those kinds of reflexes, but to Shepard it came as naturally as breathing.

Speaking of breathing...

I let out the air I didn't even realise I was holding in, still staring at her eyes which sparkled with amusement as she handed me back the pistol.

"That the best you got?" she asked, her voice betraying just how much she was enjoying herself. I guess her shoulder really was better.

This time I was ready for her, but it didn't help. A bullet barely grazed the outer edge of her shield and she'd skidded in front of me in moments. Dropping low, she arced up a leg and kicked the tip of the gun so it flew out of my hand before springing to her feet and driving the heel of her hand so close to my throat that when I sucked in a breath my skin brushed against her gloved palm. I'd seen her kill with that move more than once, but the look in her amber eyes wasn't of aggression, it was somewhere between arousal and pure, sweet adrenaline. I felt my lips curve up into a smile. I could watch her all day.

Shepard stepped back.

"C'mon, Alenko, you can do better," she called as she jogged back to the end of the room, "Give me hell. Cut loose!"

I raised the pistol again, but this time I had a plan. I fired off two token shots which she dodged just as easily as before, all the while building up a biotic charge with my fist clenched behind my back. I hurled it at her and sent another one after. They crossed each other as they curved through the air and with an impossibly elegant movement she leapt to the side, kicked her leg against a wall, arced her back over one warp field and ducked beneath another. Her legs spread wide, one hand on the ground in front, the other arm flung out for balance, she lifted her head, hair flipping back, and stared straight at me, every movement loose and fluid but perfectly controlled. There was an instant, as her tongue darted forward to wet her lips and I clenched both fists to charge up another biotic assault, where her eyes locked with mine, and I saw one word written clear on her face: more.

I couldn't let her down, could I?

I gave her everything I had, peppering the air with shockwaves only to see the red lights of her suit weave around them like they weren't even there. I had to keep reminding myself to throw more at her, as it was far too easy just to get caught up with watching her move. That new suit was flexible as hell.

For a while I realised she wasn't even trying to get near me. As I threw whole collections of warp fields in her direction she'd flip to one side, skid to the other and in the fraction of a second when she could have been sprinting towards me she just waited for more. Well, she said she wanted to test out her armour. If the half-grin-half-snarl on her face was anything to go by, she was impressed.

So was I. But I had another trick on my sleeve.

Eventually she'd had enough of dodging biotic attacks and started to advance. I'd made her shields flicker once or twice but otherwise she was untouchable. Not that it hadn't been obvious before, but now I knew for certain why Shepard had been chosen to be a Spectre over any other human alive. That didn't mean she could fight gravity, though. As I hurled token charges at her, I felt every eezo nodule in my body flare into life as I summoned up the control necessary for what I was planning.

I threw up my palms suddenly when she was no more than a few yards away, and she stopped in place, mid-stride, with an expression of total confusion on her face as the blue fire I'd grown so used to seeing around enemies rippled over her body. Before she had a chance to react I clenched my hands into fists and raised them, keeping the tightest possible reign on my biotics. Her lips fell open, a tiny gasp of surprise escaping as, still in stasis, her body was lifted from the ground. If I wasn't careful I could spike, rip a limb off or worse, but when I looked at her face, as confusion turned to naked wonder and her eyes locked with mine, I saw trust. And then I saw the N7 logo on her hardsuit and remembered who she was. Shepard was hard to kill, and I sure as hell wouldn't be the one to do it.

She had her chance to show off. This was mine. She wanted to see what an L2 could do? The look on her face as I lifted her even higher was worth the headache I knew I'd get later.

I heard a laugh above me as she struggled half-heartedly against the stasis field. I'd seen Shepard punch through barriers before to knock out the biotic behind them, I knew she could break it if she tried, and I couldn't strengthen it enough without potentially hurting her. I only used my biotics on inanimate objects or things I wanted to kill – using them on someone I actually cared about required a level of concentration that was difficult to maintain.

Still, I could do it for a few minutes more. She seemed comfortable enough, and once I'd stopped painstakingly analysing every movement it was easy to shift her around, keeping the field strong enough to hold her but not to hurt her. If I hadn't surprised myself by the damage I'd been able to do in the Cerberus base, I wouldn't have thought this was possible. But I'd seen high-level Asaris do it – I knew I could do it too. With a satisfied smile spreading across my face I moved my hands to manipulate the field, watching as she flew through the air around the large room, spinning and diving and laughing in a way that made me feel warm inside.

My stomach twisted as I remembered how her full lips had parted uncertainly before breaking into a grin as I'd teased her by pointing out a huge error in her sloppy, brute-force coding when we'd spent an afternoon in front of that console. She wore that same smile now, and I knew that, just like before, it would flash through my head as I tried to fall asleep. That, and the scent I caught when I'd leaned over her, just close enough to feel her body without touching it, pretending for a moment that we weren't military, that we weren't on a mission to save the galaxy.

I flexed my fingers in a complicated movement and she looped through the air, arms spread wide. I wanted her to smile like that all the time.

This diversion, though, had to end eventually. I moved her back over to me, lowered her to just above the ground, and let the stasis field go. The blue fire flickered, curling around her body until it dissipated into the air, and she jolted forwards. I reached out an arm to steady her but she'd already got her balance back and let out a breathy laugh of astonishment as she straightened.

"Are you okay?" I asked, but every concern I had disappeared as soon as she looked at me.

"Fuck," she breathed, a grin spreading over her face "You just made me fly, Kaidan. That was...well shit, that was even better than zero-gee training."

Her eyes were bright, the colour of rich amber, and it was one of those rare moments where she wasn't snarling or scowling and was instead just...happy? Was that the right word? I felt my breath catch again and told myself it was because of the exertion. I was a bad liar.

"Wait here," she said, brushing her hand over my shoulder as she moved past me. I spent the five minutes when she was gone wondering what that gesture meant, and if I'd done the right thing.

It was all too easy to imagine gestures, looks, inflections that didn't exist when you wanted them to. It was also getting harder to pass it off as hero worship, as the need to be near someone or something so incredible that it amazes you they can exist at all. I'd been in awe of her at the beginning, sure, but I hadn't spent our first conversation wondering if her lips felt as soft as they looked or if the tattoo I'd seen curling enticingly between her shoulder blades went any lower. Those kinds of thoughts weren't about hero worship. They also weren't things you were supposed to think about your commanding officer.

Get it together, Alenko.

She reappeared in Alliance casuals, the ghost of that thrilled smile still on her face, and handed me the bag containing her hardsuit as she shouldered what looked like the box for a large weapon. A pistol had appeared at her hip and she explained to me as we walked through the Presidium that being a Spectre had far more benefits than people realised. Free stuff was just one of them.

We were passing through the Wards on the way to the Normandy when it happened. I didn't know why we were taking the long way round, but I didn't care and I didn't ask – she was firing off question after question about my biotics and I was all too happy to answer. She said it was impressive, what I'd done, and that she hadn't forgotten what had happened over a week ago and how it had left me with migraines for a few days after. I could barely wrap my head around that – the woman I'd just seen dodging bullets and flinging herself over warp fields thought something I did was impressive. I was still trying not to feel smug about it when a man by Chora's Den peeled himself off the wall he was leaning on and took a step towards us.

"Well well," he said in a gravelly voice with a thick North American accent, "they told me it was you, but I didn't believe it."

I saw Shepard stiffen, almost imperceptibly. Her mouth moved to a thin line as she turned to see the speaker, a greasy-looking, middle-aged man with scarred, pockmarked skin and a mouth full of yellowing teeth. A cold blanket of alertness settled over me. The easy atmosphere we'd built up over the last hour had totally evaporated, and I felt its loss.

"All grown up, and playing soldier," he continued as he looked her up and down, his eyes taking their time. I felt my hands ball into fists and remembered the pistol at my side.

"What's it to you?" she growled in a low, dangerous voice. It was obvious she knew who he was, but I was in the dark. He didn't look dangerous – at least not dangerous to her – so why was she acting like he was a real threat?

"What, you don't remember? You forgot all about your pals in the Reds?" He looked down her body again, at the uniform and the Spectre logo beneath the arcs of the Alliance, "I didn't forget about you, missy."

"Then what the hell do you want?" I saw her stance shift, her shoulders flexing back, it was a move I'd seen many times before when she was getting ready to grab her gun at a split-second's notice.

"Lose the pretty boy," he said, curling back his lip as he jerked his head at me. I narrowed my eyes, feeling the eezo nodules in my chest aching to do some damage.

"Alenko, back to the ship," she barked, not even looking at me as she eased the weapon container off her shoulder and shoved it in my general direction, leaving her unarmed. I turned to her in surprise, a protest on my lips but the hard set of her jaw told me not to argue.

"Commander," I said in acknowledgement as I took the box and marched myself over to the end of the corridor, where I promptly turned a corner, flattened against the wall, and waited. An order was one thing, but an order like that was only given to be broken, surely? I listened carefully, my ears straining to catch any part of their conversation, but all I could hear was their muffled voices, no actual words. I listened as two sets of footsteps headed down what I knew was an empty back alley nearby, and then there was silence.

My pulse was racing and as the people of the wards passed me by, with no care in the world for why I was there, I did my best to keep my head and think about this logically. Within seconds everything had changed – the afternoon had taken an ugly turn and now I had no idea what she was doing or who that man was. What the hell were the Reds?

After a few minutes the wait was intolerable. I looked back down the corridor, saw no one, and carefully made my way to the entrance of the back alley. I heard her voice, but not his. Keeping close to the wall I peered around the corner and saw her turn to the side as she spoke into her commlink. The man was gone, but I could hear the tail end of her sentence.

"...just one," her face was drawn together with tension as she listened to the chatter on the other end, "It's clean, no weapons, write it up any way you want...yeah, I'd be surprised if he didn't have it coming from someone else anyway. Thanks, Bailey."

Understanding dawned and a sick feeling brewed in my stomach. I trusted her with my life, of course I did, but everyone knew Spectres were above the law, and a lot of people weren't convinced that was possible without at least hints of corruption. I'd thought of her as better than that...but I didn't know my Commander as well as I liked to think. I knew she didn't have a problem with petty acts of lawbreaking, but killing in cold blood was something else. I had to know the full story.

As she flipped close the communicator and strode towards the entrance of the alley, I stepped out in front of her. A flicker passed over her face, and suddenly I couldn't read her at all – her expression was entirely closed-off. I could have been a total stranger to her.

oOoOoOo

Shepard

I fought to keep my breathing level. Adrenaline was still pounding in my blood and it had been hard enough talking to Bailey without sounding like a frightened fucking child but when Kaidan turned the corner...

As soon as I'd heard that voice, I knew it was Finch. And I knew I'd kill him. He was a loose end. And there was no way in hell I wanted Kaidan to see, just in case Finch said something I couldn't explain.

I moved past Kaidan purposefully, speaking in a voice that somehow didn't shake, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he responded, and I could feel his eyes on me, could picture his expression, the second-guessing, that famous integrity of his forcing him to run through a dozen scenarios in which this really wasn't what it looked like. I knew he deserved an explanation. I could feel a cold sweat pass over my body, and hated the fact that it had shaken me up so much. I didn't know if I could give him an explanation that made any sense.

"I gave you an order to go back to the ship," I said calmly, so calmly that I wondered if it sounded forced. It was. I brought up my omnitool and pretended to do something important so I wouldn't have to meet his eyes. He was still looking at me.

"Yeah," he replied, irritated, "and I figured that was a show for whoever the hell that guy was. I wasn't going to leave you without a weapon."

I swallowed, a battle raging in my head. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him everything, to explain this whole other world I'd been caught up in for nine long, dark years. The whole time felt like a bad dream. Kaidan was good at dealing with nightmares.

"I didn't need a weapon," I said at last. I didn't know whether I wanted him to back off or keep pushing, give me no choice but to explain it all. I didn't look at his face.

"So you killed him?"

"Yes," I snapped, finally looking up at him with a scowl and seeing nothing but hurt and confusion on his face that hit me like a blow to the gut, "It was clean, looks like an accident. I already called it in." It had been so easy. Finch was older than me, slower. His skills weren't in combat. I'd barely had to touch him. Snapping his neck was like popping the cork out of a bottle. Booting him down the stairs was like hauling cargo. I didn't know why I'd ever been scared of him.

"Did he pull a gun on you?" Kaidan went on, and I could see the flurry of thoughts behind his eyes. He had a certain concept of me, I knew. It was idealised, with the rough edges smoothed over, but I found myself wanting it to be true. If it were true, I'd know how to take moments of real, carefree, childlike happiness without feeling like such things didn't apply to me. At that moment, I wanted my face to show what I was actually feeling so I wouldn't have to explain. Instead, with practised ease, I kept it hard as stone.

"No, he didn't need to," I said, "I made the call and you should let it go."

"How can I let that go when you won't even tell me what he did? Why kill him? Is this top-secret or-"

"Look," I said in a low, hostile tone, "I'm sure you've already figured out that I knew him. He asked me to do something I wasn't gonna do, I refused, he threatened me, I killed him, end of story." I didn't know why I'd even told him that much. I could blackbox him if I wanted to, and I'd be well within my rights and rank. I wanted him to just understand like he understood everything else and to stop looking at me like he didn't know who I was, but I didn't want the words to leave my mouth in case I couldn't stop them. This wasn't how I wanted it to come out. I couldn't control this. All I wanted was to go back half an hour and pretend none of this had happened..

"He threatened you?" he said in disbelief as I stared hard at my omnitool, "Hell, Shepard, you could have disabled him with both hands behind your back, you didn't need to—"

I rounded on him before I could stop myself with fury in my eyes. I looked like a cornered animal and I knew it, but for that second I was a child again, and I didn't care.

"You don't know me, Kaidan," I spat, "And if you knew half the shit I've seen that asshole do you'd have killed him yourself. He was pure fucking evil, and he thought he could just stroll up to me and use my position to get his scumbag friend out of prison but I know the two of them." I swallowed and stared levelly at him, my voice going quiet, "They were traffickers, and they were good at it too."

He hesitated, looking at me cautiously as if re-evaluating everything he'd thought he knew about his Commander. "Drugs?" he asked, almost hopefully.

"Girls." The word felt like ash in my mouth. I saw his face harden, his teeth grind together, and I felt sorry that I'd had to muddy up the day with such ugly details. But however hard I tried to pretend with him and the others, that was the reality. I still remembered the way I felt when I'd found out about it, the bile that rose in my throat, my perfectly still face twitching with revulsion and rage. Finch hadn't been the brains, neither was his friend, but the two of them enjoyed that work. They liked having that kind of power. It was part of the Red's black market ring, but when red sand and illegal mods didn't cut it, there were always people that needed to be smuggled into the country. The lucky ones, the ones with skills, they could find a place for themselves. The others were put to work or, when times were tough, sold. The Reds wouldn't have done that when I was first scooped up from the streets, but by the time I put a gun to Calvern's head, surrounded by the bodies of his generals, I barely recognised them at all. He'd made them into something desperate and repulsive and I wanted no part of it.

Kaidan wanted to know why, didn't he? He wanted to know what that shit-stain had done to deserve death? I looked up at him, the impotent rage I felt bubbling inside writ large on my face, "Isn't this what the Alliance is supposed to do?" I demanded, not knowing why the hell I was still talking, "Stop evil people? Isn't that what Spectres are supposed to do?" I could feel the scowl darkening my face but I didn't care, "Hell, you tell me, you're supposed to be totally fucking incorruptible so maybe you have the moral authority to tell me if what I just did was a good thing or if I'm just as bad as the rest of 'em." I turned away before he had a chance to respond and stalked down the corridor, feeling angry and vulnerable and utterly, utterly pathetic.

"Shepard, I-" I heard him take a step towards me and I slowed. I didn't know what I wanted him to do. I wanted him to make it so that this whole hideous episode hadn't happened at all. "I'm sorry. I believe you, of course I do. I was just...surprised." I stopped walking and turned back to him slowly, not even bothering to wipe the defiant, feral look from my face. The adrenaline was starting to flow out of me. I reminded myself that Finch was dead, they all were, and I thought of how easy it'd been. I wasn't a child. I could defend myself. He shouldn't have shaken me up that much.

"If you say he had to die, then he had to die," he continued, "It's your call and I'm behind you all the way. I always will be," he said, moving closer to me. I felt my shoulders drop slowly as my posture relaxed. My mouth still felt tight and I took a deep breath to help the tension ebb away. "I'm sorry for...for sounding like I didn't trust you. I do. Of course I do. I was just—"

"I don't know why I thought I couldn't just tell you," I said suddenly, looking up at him, my lips parting as I tried to work out exactly how to say what was running through my head, "I saw him and I...I knew I was going to kill him. I had to. I didn't want you to see. I didn't want you to know about it, about any of it." I'd been having a good day. I'd just wanted to pretend for a little while longer before it all broke into pieces. My eyes darted to the side, to a small group of people entering the corridor, and I felt my throat growing tight, "I don't want to talk about this. Not...I...I don't..."

He understood. "The Normandy must be finished restocking by now," he said, brushing my arm with his fingertips in a gesture I knew meant that this would stay between us. I hoped it didn't change anything. I nodded and stayed still, but as he walked past me I fell into step with him and stared at the floor, cursing Finch, the Reds, the universe's sense of humour and my own spinelessness in the face of the life I'd flown so far away from.

oOoOoOo

Kaidan

I didn't know how to reconcile the idea of 'Commander Shepard' in my head with what had just happened. And then I remembered an old saying. There are two ways to dehumanise someone: treat them like nothing, or put them on a pedestal. I didn't know where it had come from, but, as I tried not to look at the woman marching next to me, I finally understood it.

The first human Spectre had been a child once, she'd had hopes and fears and secrets, and no doubt some still haunted her to this day. She was unlike anyone I'd ever met – the daily realities of killing and combat didn't bother her at all, it was the little things, the normal things like genuine human emotion and appearing vulnerable that made her shut down inside. I was guilty of idolising her too – I doubted there was anyone on the Normandy who wasn't guilty of that, at least a little. But I'd seen the woman behind the legend more than once, and it had made me want to know more, know everything about her.

There were regs for a reason, I knew. They were supposed to stop exactly this kind of thing – questioning the actions of superior officers because it didn't sit well with you, because you thought you knew them better than that. With her, though, I couldn't help it. I felt like it was different because we were professionals – we could handle the rigid divide of life off-duty and life on the battlefield. Her hands were still tense as they hung by her sides. I couldn't pretend I didn't care. It was getting too hard to act as if she was my Commander and nothing more. I wished I could see her smile again.

"It was almost a fun day," I said at last when we were nearing C-Sec. The barest hint of a smirk burst through her haunted expression.

"It was a fun day," she murmured in response, "I got new armour and I flew – far as I'm concerned it's a solid win."

And just like that the tension evaporated and by the time the elevator doors closed on us we were acting as if the last half hour hadn't happened at all. It was a brilliant coping mechanism, one I was sure she was familiar with. She had a way of talking about things like this that was totally detached – like they'd happened to someone else. But I'd witnessed something I wasn't supposed to see, a rare moment in which she was shaken, and it had taken both of us by surprise. When she'd looked at me, her expression defensive but vulnerable, somehow younger, I'd wanted, more than anything, to stop the world and make her troubles disappear. As if there was anything I could do to help her that she couldn't do herself.

She was telling me about the gun she'd picked up in the Spectre's armoury as the elevator doors opened, and as she walked ahead into the Normandy's airlock there was some of that familiar swagger in her movements, even if she was walking faster than usual.

I had so many questions, but I'd keep them to myself for now. She didn't owe me answers, and I didn't need to know. Instead, I'd do what I was supposed to do – follow her into hell and back, get the job done, never question orders.

As soon as we were back on board the Normandy the transmission from the Council came through, and within minutes I heard her voice over the ship's PA, loud and clear, as she revealed our next destination: Virmire.

---

Chapter 8: History – The night before the next mission, the team unwind with a drink-fuelled poker game that goes on into the night.