IX: Discrepancies

12/25: Hey guys! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all! Here's a present for you guys; a new chapter! It's short, but it's got a whole lot of dialogue that I think you guys will enjoy. I apologize with the time taken between my last 2 updates. With the semester coming to a close and the holidays on approach, I didn't have much time to write, but winter break should give me a decent amount of free time to get some more on paper. Anyways, review if you have a minute to spare, and enjoy!

Shepard stood in the doorway of the Normandy SR-2's medical bay. In front of him stood Dr. Karin Chakwas, the ship's chief medical officer and a trusted friend. His eyes shifted their attention between her face and his unconscious, bloody friend who lay on a table 20 feet behind her. On the outside, The Commander's expression remained neutral. How he felt, however, was an entirely different story. He had just seen his closest friend mowed down by a merc gunship, and while Garrus was still alive, he had sustained critical injuries, and while Shepard was no doctor, one look at the turian told him all he needed to know: Garrus Vakarian was barely hanging on. Shepard had felt his fair share of anxiety and grief in his life, but he had never had so much trouble keeping it in. His mind was flooded with an amalgam of different thoughts regarding what had just transpired. On one hand, he was dealing with the anxiety brought on by the grave nature of Garrus's injury. On the other, there was…

Lawson.

The Cerberus second-in-command hadn't spoken her refusal to help the injured turian; rather, she had simply ignored Shepard's urgent demand for medi-gel. As if the action wasn't infuriating enough, he had grown even more frustrated trying to figure out why she refused to help. Despite contemplating all possible options on the shuttle ride back to the Normandy, he simply couldn't think of a logical reason why Miranda would have ignored him, a sharp contrast to her normally rational and well-reasoned thought process. He needed to get to the bottom of this, and decided that after he finished talking to Chakwas, he was going to have a word with Ms. Lawson.

After a long, deafening silence, Chakwas spoke:

"Jacob's application of medi-gel slowed the flow of blood Shepard, but he's lost a lot of it. I'll do what I can, but I'm not sure if Garrus will survive the injuries he sustained."

Shepard cleared his throat in order to maintain an even tone.

"I know, Doctor. Just please, do the best you can."

Chakwas nodded.

"You know I will, Commander. Garrus is a good friend of both of us. I don't want you to get your hopes up, but the old bastard is as stubborn as you are. Just remember that."

Shepard chuckled.

"That he is. Let me know if I can help in any way, alright?"

"Thank you Commander, but I think I have everything I need. Now if you'll excuse me, this procedure will take several hours. I'm sure you have other duties to attend to."

"Right. I should let you work. Thank you Doctor Chakwas."

With that, Shepard turned quickly and headed immediately for the elevator. Mashing the button for the third floor, he tapped his foot impatiently against the floor while the painfully slow elevator took him to the crew quarters. He walked briskly out of the elevator and stormed towards the door to Miranda's office, ignoring the dozen pairs of eyes on him. As he opened the door, Miranda looked up from her terminal, surprised by Shepard's heavy foot falls.

"Lawson, you and I need to have a serious talk."

Miranda looked genuinely confused, but remained calm.

"There's a lot to do, Shepard, maybe another-"

Shepard cut her off.

"No. Whatever you're doing now, it can wait. You need to tell me what happened on Omega."

Miranda had been avoiding this. Feebly, she attempted to lie.

"I was out of medi-gel."

"Bullshit. We each have three applications worth of medi-gel on us at all times. You were right next to me during our entire mission out there, and not once were you injured in any way. Why didn't you help Garrus?"

Miranda closed her terminal.

"Because he would have been a detriment to this mission. He would have distracted you and we need you focused."

Shepard couldn't believe what he had just heard. This was ludicrous. He tried to prevent his voice from raising, and while it worked to some effect, he was absolutely furious.

"So you were just going to let him bleed out on the floor? The man fought alongside us!"

"Shepard, Garrus Vakarian is a friend of yours, and any personal friendships or relationships that you might have while serving on this mission would only draw your focus away from what really matters."

Shepard had had it. His voice raised ever so slightly, but it was enough to let Miranda know that she had angered him.

"You want to know what distracts me from doing my job? People who try to fight me every step of the way. And if you need further clarification on this, Lawson, it's you! The main reason I was able to take down Sovereign and Saren was because I had a strong, tight-knit team, each of whom I trusted implicitly. Garrus was part of that team, and we need him."

"Shepard, for missions like this-"

"Can it, Lawson. You don't know the first thing about missions like this. So you brought a man back from the dead, maybe tortured a few hundred innocent aliens in your day? That's nothing compared to what we're up against, and I can say that because I've seen it firsthand. I've seen the destruction that a single Reaper can achieve, and I know that it takes a team that can rely on one another to destroy it. So don't ever, EVER question my methods again! Maybe you disagree, but let me remind you that even though I was your little science project, this mission is still under my command."

Miranda frowned.

"Fine, Commander, just know I don't approve of this."

"I don't give half a fuck what you do or don't approve, Miranda. Garrus is easily the best shot in the galaxy, a tactical genius, and more importantly, I can count on him to do the right thing. He's a hell of a lot better of a soldier than you, the way I see it. Now, since you've shit on your credibility by me, you are not coming on any missions unless I deem it absolutely necessary, unless you somehow manage to show me you can handle being on these missions, or until I figure out what to do with you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Miranda locked eyes with Shepard and tried her best to return his intimidating stare.

"Yes, Commander."

"Good. I'm not taking anyone out in the field unless I can trust them. Jacob and I will be leaving soon to recruit Mordin Solus. We will leave once Dr. Chakwas is done operating on Garrus, and while we are gone, Joker will have the deck. You will complete the mission report that I was going to file myself before I had to have this talk you, but Moreau will have administrative authority during this time. He was with me on the SR-1, and while he sometimes cracks stupid jokes, he knows how I run a ship, and he's earned my complete trust. See how this works?"

"Commander, you can't just-"

Again, Shepard cut her off.

"This isn't up for discussion, Miranda. I can, and will circumvent and redistribute your executive authorities as I see fit. You have attempted to sabotage one of the greatest assets available to us, and thus clearly cannot handle the responsibilities of Executive Officer. Let me worry about what distracts me from doing my job."

Before Miranda could respond, Shepard quickly turned and walked out the door. As the soundproof doors shut behind him, Miranda, in a rare and uncharacteristic display of anger, slammed her fists down on her desk.

"FUCK!"

She was absolutely furious. Why couldn't the stupid man see past his friendship with the turian? Clearly, Garrus Vakarian would serve as a huge distraction to their cause. And because of his blind loyalty to his friend, Miranda had been all but relegated from her position as XO. There was just no reasoning with this man!

But there was something else that bothered her. While she was angry at Shepard for stripping her of her administrative duties and bringing Garrus on board, something began to eat away at her; something far more visceral than this anger. While she was scared to admit it to herself, she couldn't ignore the feeling: the deep, biting pain of inadequacy. Not once in her life had she failed an assignment…until now. Her goal of gaining Shepard's trust, as ordered by the Illusive Man, had not been attained, and her concern for Shepard's focus was to blame. Not only had she failed the Illusive Man, but she had failed Shepard.

Miranda took a deep breath and released it in an audible sigh of frustration. Why did it even matter if she failed to meet Shepard's standards? She didn't have to prove anything to him…

Did she?

Unfortunately, she did. As Shepard's handler, she had to make sure the man succeeded, by any means. In order to do that, she had to be on the ground during these missions. And while it was new and uncomfortable, Miranda decided that biting the bullet, apologizing, and redeeming herself in Shepard's eyes was the best course of action. After taking a minute to collect herself, Miranda switched on her private terminal and input the commands to bring up the video feed of Shepard's room. What she saw surprised her. The man was on his knees at the foot of his bed, with his head bowed. The man was…praying.

That's funny, nothing in his file mentioned him being religious. His language points in the opposite direction entirely…

After a few moments of silence, Shepard sighed and returned to his feet. He cracked his neck and headed towards the bathroom. Miranda switched video feeds, and brought up footage of the Commander splashing cold water on himself. A few seconds later, Shepard snatched a towel from the rack and buried his face in it. Shepard exited the bathroom and headed for the door to his quarters. Upon his exit, Miranda switched off the bug feeds. She was worried about Shepard. Not in the way one might think…that would be ridiculous, but in the sense that losing him this early in the process would be catastrophic. She had slaved over his resurrection for two whole years, and now he was going to run amok with Jacob on Omega without her supervision.

Ignoring the growing feeling of stress, Miranda cleared her throat and began to compile the mission report Shepard had ordered her to complete, though she knew that given the recent turn of events, that information would not suffice; she needed to speak with the Illusive Man…

The video comm had gone as expected, for the most part. The Illusive Man had not chastised her for her failure to gain Shepard's trust; rather he had praised it…in a sense. He had confirmed that Garrus was indeed a risk factor in diverting Shepard's attention away from the mission. Nonetheless, he was interested in seeing how the two really worked together under optimum conditions, and also ordered Miranda to redeem herself in Shepard's eyes. A few minutes later, the conversation ended, leaving Miranda feeling better about her credit with the Illusive Man.

Despite this, as she returned to her room, she still couldn't shake the shame of failing the Commander's orders. She cursed herself for allowing this man to belittle her, but she couldn't help but feel the sting of Shepard's words. While they were not spoken harshly, they carried the weight of a man of greater importance.

And he wasn't even designed for this…

Miranda swiped her hand over the door interface and entered her quarters, plopping down in her chair and spinning around to face her terminal. She finished the lengthy mission report in a matter of minutes and forwarded it to both Shepard and the Illusive Man. She ran her hands through her hair, sighed, and looked towards her bed. While Shepard and Jacob were on Omega, Miranda decided she would take a nap. The man wasn't dubbed a "super-soldier" for no reason, and could handle himself anyway…