Author's Note: At long last, the next chapter is here! I apologize deeply for the long wait; after many, many technical difficulties and many writer's blocks, I finally got to finish the chapter. And so I dedicate it to you, my readers. If there are any of you left. I don't blame you, it's been far too long.

Ironically enough, Shepard is also alone this time, unsure of when she'll see her love again. Surely you can relate.


Commander Jane Shepard slept.

She was not sprawled over the comfortable bed in the captain's quarters, or even sharing a bunk with one of her crew. No, she slept cramped and confined, a still figure in one of the sleeper pods usually reserved for lesser crewmen.

And here, she was one.

Spectres, she had discovered, had their own strict hierarchy. Asari and Turians were considered the best, and treated accordingly. They were given their own sections of the ship, and shared bunks only rarely. Salarians, the next rung down, slept in closer, cramped quarters. They didn't particularly mind this, as their matriarchal, close-knit society made them prefer crowding anyway.

But what to do about the lone human Spectre? She certainly didn't deserve an entire portion of the ship. No other species would share bunks with a human. And she couldn't have her own bed if no one else received the same honor.

So. Relegated to the pods like an engineer. Who said prejudice had died in the galaxy?

Kaiden would have died in here. He could get claustrophobic sometimes, and rides in the tiny cabin of the Mako were hell for him.

Shepard felt herself falling when she thought about him. Over and over, her own mind screamed, You idiot, how could you let him go? Idiot, idiot, idiot!

When they'd docked at the Citadel, Kaiden had had his arms wrapped around her, their legs tangled together, as they lay in bed. He had kissed her ear one last time, longingly, regretfully, before making the subtle motions that indicated his rising. Shepard had gripped him harder.

"We'll be late," he murmured, sinking back down to her.

She turned to look at him. "I have to tell you," she said. "I have to be honest with you."

"Is this about the mission?" He'd asked, his face serious and expectant.

"Yes. Kaiden—I was directed to give you minimum detail. You're a captain, and you'll have your own ship, but...that's not everything. I can't..." she sighed and continued, "...there's a reason they chose you. Not too many Jump Zero alumni are still active and able members of the military."

Kaiden's expression was grim, but he nodded. "I understand. I should probably act surprised when they fill me in, though." He smiled a bit.

"That's not all of it. Project Noah—"

He put one finger over her mouth, silencing her more effectively than a bullet ever could. The words died in her as he leaned in, mouth meeting hers in warmth and need and quiet comfort.

She became aware of him, of the texture of his lips, the scratches of his unshaven cheeks. She felt the scars on his body, the small hairs that covered his skin and made him feel rough against her, the tight muscles and the warmth and the scent of him, of Kaiden Alenko. She didn't want to lose this. She wanted him to have every part of her, even the unspoken words that she carried like armor.

When he pulled away, she opened her mouth to speak again, but he cut her off. "Project Noah is your business," he said. "I'm glad you told me about my new...post, but you were right. Some things should stay secret." He ran a finger through her hair, and that was that.

They seemed lodged in her throat, those words, the knowledge of Project Noah that haunted her. And there, in the sleeping pod of the ship Asphodel, she whispered them to no one but herself.

...it was a lie.

Shepard's eyes flicked open, and the pod automatically began to open in response. She stepped out, stretching her arms and rolling her head. The ship hummed around her, the slight vibrations thrumming through her boots. And then there was a heavier, patterned vibration that echoed around the metal walkway. Shepard looked up to see the Turian approaching, his face painted in bands of blue and red.

Her body stiffened, eyes narrowing. The Turian glared at her as he walked past, and Shepard watched him closely. Despite her camaraderie with Garrus, the Turian Spectres appeared to hate her. That had been made clear from the moment she had come aboard.

One of them, his face painted nearly all black, had put her in a chokehold. "So this is the fool from Eden Prime?" He'd spat.

Shepard had inched her hand down her leg, choked out, "Saren attacked Eden Prime. I stopped him. Does that...make me a fool?"

The Turian had tightened his grip. "You were a fool to let Nihilus be murdered. He was a friend to all of us, and killed him, you stupid human!"

"Saren...killed him," Shepard gasped. She was running out of air, her sight darkening.

"No!" He said, "No! You blame another Turian, another Spectre, for your mistakes. I know your game, human, and I will not let you win!"

Knife in hand, Shepard swung her arm upward. She felt the blade scrape his carapace, and the soft give of his eye.

He'd screamed and let her go, and she had backed away. His comrades, Turians and Asari alike, had come running, the Asphodel's captain not far behind. If the captain hadn't been there, Shepard knew there would have been far more trouble than she could handle. As it was, the captain had left her with a warning.

"Brius is a troublemaker, I know, but you're no victim, yourself. There will be no fighting on my ship. Either make friends, or stay away."

Her attacker, Brius, had been left with a scar, and Shepard had gained a healthy dose of wariness. Guns were not allowed to be carried out of dorms, but she kept at least two knives on her at all times. Other Spectres say the new edge in her eyes, the warning in her stance, and stayed away.

Mealtimes were hard, though. She sat alone, a screw in a pile of nails. Oh, yes, she was most definitely screwed.

Cut it out, Shepard, she thought. No time for pity. Besides, you've had worse before. Remember?

Yes, she'd been alone before. With both parents in the Navy, she'd been alone most of her life. But at least then there had been other navy brats like her, sympathetic friends to turn to. Here? Nothing. Nothing but the emptiness of space.

Strong. Be strong. Nothing else to be. Not loved, not wanted, not liked. Just be strong.

"Hey."

Shepard turned, tense, and this time there was a Salarian there. For large, bug-eyed lizards, they were remarkably fast and silent. "Hey," she said, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

He blinked, frowning. "You are the one that saved Captain Kirrahe and his men?"

Hesitant, she nodded.

The movement was sudden; Shepard already had one hand on a knife when she saw. He had not moved to strike her, or point fingers. Instead, his palm extended outwards in an unmistakable handshake.

"This is how you greet humans, yes?" He asked. Shepard nodded and took his hand, pumping it gently.

"I want to thank you," he said. "Captain Kirrahe is my brother. He spoke to me of your bravery in the line of fire, and the service you did for his men. I commend you for that, human."

"Shepard." She replied. "Commander Shepard."

"And I am Captain Varook. Good day to you, and good luck."

They broke apart, and the Salarian, Varook, disappeared around the corner. Shepard looked down at her hand, shaking slightly.

Well, she thought, it's a start.


Final Note: Well, there it is, and I hope you enjoyed it. I've tried to get back to the elegant and dynamic writing style I had at oh, say, Chapter 5, but it doesn't seem to be working.

School is starting up again, and all of you are familiar with my lazy habits. "Oh, no," you cry, "surely we are not to encounter another drought? Say it isn't so!"

Fear not, brave readers! I am thorougly pumped up for the next chapter, in which there will be much action and (a little) Shenko fluff. Glory!