Dr. Chakwas froze, her pen rolling down limp fingertips to clatter on the floor. "Avery? You're Commander Avery Shepard – the XO? The one they call The Raven?"

"Yes, that's right," the Commander replied simply. "Did you find me?"

She could tell it now: the deliberate way that Shepard spoke, thick and a little uncertain; the way her violet eyes still trained on the lips of whomever had been speaking – an old habit that had yet to be broken; the way she looked away, awkward, during lulls in conversations. Chakwas scolded herself angrily for not having noticed it before.

"Find you! Oh, I've spent the better part of two hours studying your file," the doctor confessed, an uncomfortable hotness flushing her face.

Shepard offered an apologetic half-smile. "People look at me differently when they find out. I thought you could just examine me-"

"Oh, of course, of course!" Chakwas interjected, giving the Commander a dismissive wave. "Think nothing of it. 'Check-up' is just half a phrase away from 'check-in.'" The doctor smiled, chuckling lightly as she quipped, "I don't look at you differently, do I?"

Shepard took a measured pause before responding. "You do not seem as angry as you did before."

The Commander's file still sat open on the doctor's desk; Chakwas had been studying it still during breaks in the preparation work. Though there were many medical curiosities on board, none matched the intellectual and medical appeal of Shepard's situation. She had been oddly compelled to the Commander's story from the time it had first been published in the Alliance Medical Journal; seeing the woman's name on the ship's manifest had given a purpose and credence to her study.

Chakwas rested a fist on the desk's surface, the other's fingers tucking under the corner of the Commander's file. "Let's see here ..." Her voice was laced with forced nonchalance. There was no sense in informing Shepard that she had been a object of intense curiosity. "I'd like to review your history with you before beginning the physical examination. Is that all right?"

"Okay," Shepard replied with a light shrug. The voice was light and bright, but its syllables were muddled.

The doctor cleared her throat, lightly running a finger down the page before her. "You were born on Earth in 2154 – a twin. Your mother and sister died during labor?" The doctor's mouth twisted involuntarily. To have a mother and her baby die in childbirth seemed something uncivilized and archaic, a problem of another era. She imagined a soot-streaked woman, barely but a child herself, scavenging for scraps and unable to care for the two lives growing in her increasingly swollen belly. The mother's malnutrition, probably coupled with drug and alcohol abuse, would have certainly contributed to the Commander's small size and likely to her birth defect. It all could have been avoided so easily with proper care and treatment. It should not have been a problem of this age.

"Yes, that's what Rodger said," the Commander affirmed evenly. Her violet eyes were still fixed on the far wall, her expression unreadable.

"Rodger … yes, an older brother. I see him listed here. No major medical issues during childhood seem to be mentioned. Is that correct?"

Shepard snorted. "Other than being born deaf?" The acid seeping through the small woman's voice could corrode metal.

The doctor cleared her throat again, her finger and eyes moving further down the page. "Enlisted at eighteen," she mumbled, stealing quick glances at the Commander as she read. "Nothing of note in the Alliance file - strong, healthy biometric parameters observed during the regular physicals..."

Shepard cracked her knuckles.

"A broken arm treated after the events at Akuze..."

Shepard sighed, feet swinging idly. The doctor noted with some amusement that the Commander's legs were too short for her feet to reach the floor.

"And the next-" Chakwas stopped short. Shepard turned her head, curiosity alighting her eyes.

The doctor slowly shut the file and stopped to sanitize her hands at a small station before she crossed the expanse between them in a few strong strides. "Well, there's no need to recount that. Your objections were clearly recorded in the file. I'm sure you wouldn't like to revisit it."

The Commander smiled, bowing her head slightly. "No, I would not," she breathed, pressing her lips together. "Thank you, Doctor."

Gently, Chakwas swept the woman's dark curls over one shoulder, her fingers expertly palpitating the skin around the raised implant imbedded behind the Commander's left ear. "Has it been giving you any trouble? Any pain or tenderness?"

"No," Shepard replied, flinching slightly as the doctor's cold hands began travel across the exposed, pale skin to prod the lymph nodes in her neck. "Well, one thing, but it seems silly."

"I once had a Corporal come to me worried that his 'unit' would fall off after having intercourse with an asari," Chakwas offered, her eyes twinkling. "I sincerely doubt, Commander, that anything you have to say is silly."

Shepard wrinkled her nose, craning her neck as the doctor continued her examination. "With the implant, words do not sound how they feel."

Chakwas paused, her attention returning to the small device inserted behind Shepard's ear. "It operates on the same technology as a biotic's implant, sending impulses directly to your brain for you to process. I supposed it could be ... not calibrated properly, or something of that ilk."

Shepard sighed, twisting to the face the doctor. "Can you calibrate an off switch?"


Avery Shepard's eyes opened.

She had been aware of movement around her, tiny shudders and thuds of footsteps as people had come and gone. She dozed off and on in a restless sleep. The doctor's smell of sanitizer had drifted away, lingering longer than the Lieutenant's (though there was something about Kaidan's scent that was hard for her to peg, she recognized it as uniquely his). A familiar musk remained the entire time, stale and sticky, still present in the room. She pressed her palms against the bunk, pushing herself upright. Anderson was still there, somewhere ...

There was a rumbling behind her, and then something felt heavy on her shoulder. Shepard turned, her eyes meeting the Captain's. He moved to the side of the bed, leaning over her slightly, and her gaze drifted with his movement. He spoke slowly, her eyes parsing out the movements of his lips.

He sent the others away. The Lieutenant is outside in the mess and the doctor is in her office, trying to see what's wrong with the implant. The beacon was destroyed.

"I had dreams, bad dreams, but it did not feel like dreams at all," she gasped. Shepard was aware of how that sounded – how bizarre a thing it was to say.

"The soldier from Eden Prime? How is she?" Shepard raised a hand to her chest, checking for the familiar reverberations that were her only indicator she had been speaking. "What about Wille-"

It looked like 'Williams,' and it sounded like will-yums; she didn't know how it was supposed to feel, not without practice.

Names, she had always been so bad with names. There was nothing more personal than that jumble of vowels and consonants, and a different stressing or arrangement could recall someone else entirely. She remembered the first time she had heard her name, her own name … and it was nothing like she would have thought, nothing how it should have felt. Shep-herd. Her lips pursed, shh; then tapped, eppp; and opened, just a faint breath, a little expulsion of air, herrr; and then her tongue tickled the roof of her mouth, duh.

It felt breathy and delicate; it sounded flat and stumpy.


David Anderson gently took the small hand in his, pressing two of her fingers to his lips. "Williams."

Shepard lifted her other hand to her own mouth. "Williams," she repeated.

He nodded. "Yes, that's it. She's been transferred aboard the Normandy."

Anderson released Shepard's hand, motioning to the datapad he had left on the small shelf next to her bunk. "Lieutenant Alenko wrote the briefing on Eden Prime. I need to know..." He paused, leaning forward, his face suddenly inches from Shepard's. "Is it true? Is it true the colonist said Nihlus had been shot by another turian?"

Shepard nodded, her brows knitting. "Saren," she stated slowly, her mouth carefully forming the unfamiliar syllables. "He said it was a turian named Saren."

Anderson leaned back with a sigh. "I know him. He's a Spectre. We ..." The Captain's voice faded, a frown crossing his face. There wasn't much use in discussing old grudges, not here or now. "Joker is waiting on my order to approach the Citadel. This is a matter for the Council now. The doctor offered that you could stay here until she can repair the implant, but I told her you would probably prefer-"

"Yes," Shepard interrupted, her violet eyes sharp. "I should go speak with Alenko and Williams."

Anderson bit back a laugh. "Now you're just showing off. You can tell Joker to bring us through the relay while you're up there."

Shepard grinned, sliding off of the bunk. "Yes, sir!" she barked, giving the Captain a stilted salute. It was something of a joke between them – Shepard had often mentioned she'd only survived boot camp by shouting acknowledgments and saluting whenever she couldn't make out what a superior officer had been saying. There were not many people with whom Shepard could or did share such stories or jokes; Anderson felt an odd privilege to be amongst them.

The Captain shook his head lightly with a sigh and handed the woman a folded stack of nonstandard standard-issue Alliance fatigues. "Size extra, extra small. Your armor is stored in the locker in the garage, along with the loot you managed to squirrel away. Yes, Alenko wrote about that in the report."

Color rose into the Commander's pale cheeks. "I do not think he likes me very much," she admitted quietly.

Anderson shrugged softly. "People are confused by you, Shepard. You don't behave like they do - you know that." He paused. "You'll be subject to more curiosity once they learn. I've put everyone under orders not to discuss the implant or your situation, but it's a small ship, and I'm not naive enough to think that lips will stay sealed. I don't want them to think you're bro-"

"I am not broken," she interrupted, her chin jutting forward stubbornly.

"I know," Anderson acknowledged with a sigh, "but this will complicate things. If the Alliance were to know that the implant had stopped working, they might ..." His voice trailed off. "Go talk to the crew and tell Joker to bring us through the relay when you're done. It will be helpful for them to see that their Commander is up and about."

"Yes, Captain," she replied in earnest as she took the offered fatigues and walked towards a screen on the other side of the medical bay to change. She paused and looked back over one shoulder, her eyes shining. "And ... thank you, Captain. Again. For everything. I do not know where I would be without your kindness, without you to lead."

She looks so much like Cynthia.

"Of course, Avery," he replied quietly. "Now, go and prove to the Chief that you know her name."


Ashley Williams cringed as the words poured from her lips. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Oh, that Shepard!" Joker gasped in mock-realization, swinging about in the pilot's chair to face the furiously blushing Gunnery Chief. "Yeah, we're old best friends – used to meet at the Alliance Cripples Club every Thursday. Best cheese dip in the whole galaxy."

"She had her foot in her mouth already – no need to jam it down her throat, Lieutenant Moreau," the Commander called icily from behind them. Both marines started, Ashley's shoulders snapping straighter. Oh, hell. "Besides," the Commander added breezily, "the guacamole was far better."

"Heeey, Commander," Joker muttered quickly. "Thought your super-sonic bat hearing was on the fritz."

Shepard snorted in reply. "It is, so keep that mouth where I can see it."

Ashley willed that she could disappear, just curl up into a tiny ball and roll somewhere, away from the small Commander's unnerving stare – one that she was certain was trained on her now. She hesitantly turned towards the small woman. Yep.

"Do not listen to him, Chief Williams. Joker and I have known each other for years," the Commander explained, casting a sidelong glare at the pilot. "Consider this his version of hazing, Chief Williams." The Commander's eyes crinkled with some sort of self-satisfaction that remained lost on everyone else in the room. "Chief Williams," Shepard repeated again, a strange chortle bubbling from her throat.

Standing flat-footed in the ship's cockpit, Ashley noted that Shepard's head barely came up to her shoulders.

"I still shouldn't have assumed you and Joker know each other because you're both-"

"But we do," the Commander interrupted, raising a slender brow.

Joker, his back now turned to her, shrugged. "What?"

"You talk a lot better than you did back on Eden Prime," Ashley breathed, cringing as the words spilled from her lips like a cup that had overrun with water. Note to self: develop an internal censor.

A bright flush colored the Commander's cheeks, almost matching the deep shade of crimson the Chief was now turning. "I get overwhelmed," Shepard admitted sheepishly. "Your world is loud and ..."

"Good to see you up and about, Commander! How are you feeling?" Alenko interjected, quickly moving to stand next to Ashley. Both women traded a look of relief at the distraction.

Shepard greeted him with a nod. "Good to see you, Lieutenant." Another awkward pause filled the air. Ashley realized that she hadn't heard – or seen, rather – the question.

"We're heading to the Citadel?" the small woman ventured. Shepard cleared her throat and turned away. "Joker, bring us in. I am ... I am going to stand over here. I like the way it feels when we hit the relay." The Commander moved past the two marines, standing with her hands lightly planted on the ship's cockpit railing.

Hesitantly, Ashley crept to the Commander's side. Moments later, the Chief noted, Alenko did as well. The three adopted a similar pose, hands all clasping the cockpit railing, eyes all trained on the empty space outside.

"Feel that little start – the way the engines are chugging now? We are getting closer. And – yes! – feel that now, how the very walls of the ship are trembling? "

Ashley tightened her grip on the railing, her eyes closing. She did.