Chapter Nine

Once in the lift Shepard hits the command for her cabin. As the lift begins to move up she leans her forehead against the cool metal doors. Why does everyone keep rushing her? Why can't anyone understand she can handle this on her own? Why are they all so nosey? Who she was in the past has no merit on who she is now, or what ever is wrong with her.

She steps off the lift and goes to her office area, stripping out of her sweaty uniform and under clothes she steps in to the shower and turns it on all the way hot. Standing under the flow she feels her stresses ease. The wheal on her arm aches and burns from the water, but she ignores it. Reminding herself to put some medigel on it when she gets out. She grabs her washcloth from the rack, soaping it up she begins to wash. Moving the rag and scrubbing all the weeks of stress and pain away. The grime that clings to her feels more than skin deep.

As she washes her arms and chest, she marvels at all the scars she has. She can trace the scalpel incisions Cerberus made to put her back together. They run systematically along her sides, up her chest, and across her shoulders. The shrapnel wounds from so many battles, the Reaper destruction being the most recent, litter her entire abdomen, chest and arms. Even her legs have a few short sporadic shrapnel scars. She runs her hands over her face, feeling the two scars from her mad dash to the Conduit back on Earth. All the scars from Cerberus' reconstruction of her face have faded, thanks to ' care.

From time to time she stills sees the ghosts of them on her face. But she knows that's more due to her perception than actual visible scars.

She rinses off and steps out of the shower, grabbing her towel she dries off and leans on the sink edge to look in the mirror. Flashes of memory from her run to the conduit play through her mind's eye. She can still hear the ringing silence, and the deafening roar of battle. Over it all is the Reapers sound. Metal grinding on metal, a wail that no organic lungs could ever achieve that reverberates in your skull, feeling like metal fingers raking at your brain. Causing your very bones to ring with the sound. All this magnified by the dozens of Reapers in that immediate area, and underneath it all is the wail and screams of the dammed. Innocent lives snuffed out by the millions within seconds.

She wrenches her mind away from the memories and focuses instead on her reflection. Naming each thing she sees pulls her mind away from memories and back to the real world. Hair, red, long enough for a horsetail but short enough to not reach past her collar. Liara described her hair once to Shepard as the color of auburn dipped in copper. Eyes, dark brown. They are nearly the color of chocolate, the gold flecks in the irises give her eyes the look of amber stones. The years of war and fighting have left sharp angles to the corners of her eyes, and a steely glint that never goes away.

Her eyebrows are the same color as her hair, thick yet small too. She has a cross wise scar that runs through her right brow and ends at the corner of her eye. Courtesy of a piece of flying shrapnel on Akuze. Her nose was once small and delicate, but was broken twice before Cerberus rebuilt her. And twice more since. The first re-break in a headbutt she gave a Krogan back on Tuchanka, and the second at the Conduit.

Her mouth is a thin line, the lower lip slightly larger than the upper. Again, the years of fighting have left their mark here too. She has deep lines formed around the edges of her mouth, and scars from all her fights. Finishing her calming ritual she turns from the sink and makes her way down to her foot locker.

She leaves the towel on her bed as she pulls on clean underwear. She puts on a set of black pants, tank shirt, and her N7 zip up sweatshirt. She sits down on the bed to lace on her boots. Each tug on the laces runs across the calluses on her palms. She wonders what Liara finds so attractive about a tough, scarred, old soldier like her. Surely such an amazingly intelligent Asari would pick someone better than her for a partner. What can she offer Liara? Security and protection, sure. But her line of work makes for a dangerous path, she never knows if she'll survive every mission. Who wants to be involved with someone like her? She growls at her inner thoughts and goes to the lift, deciding to brave the mess hall to grab a bite to eat. Maybe that will keep her mind off of things for awhile.

As the lift descends she thinks on the things she'd love to do, but seemingly no one will allow her. All she wants is to fight, to spar with someone, to practice her weapons and skills. She can't go from auto pilot of fighting and moving constantly, to not moving at all. Surely somewhere on this damned ship is a place she can work out with out interruptions. Lost in her contemplations of the ship and her physical state, she doesn't see James until they run full on into each other. His attention was on his food tray and hers was cast down at the deck as she thought.

"Whoa!" James exclaims, attempting to catch the tray as it starts to fall. He boggles it a few times off his hands, but fails the last grab as it clatters to the ground.

Shepard kneels down to help him, "James. Um, I mean Vega, sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"Happens to the best of us Commander." His voice is restrained, too clipped and short. A soldier's voice to his CO. Not the casual voice of a friends. He stands up with the tray and sets it by the table. He snaps to attention, hand up in salute. "Commander."

Shepard returns the salute, "At ease." he relaxes his stance, but only to parade rest. "Vega, look, um. Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

James relaxes his stance fully. He wasn't meaning to be curt or overly formal. He just wasn't sure which Shepard he would be talking to. "I believe that the Life support hold is empty, Shepard."

Shepard nods to him, "Very well. Lead the way."

James chuckles at the Commander allowing him to lead. Once inside the slightly humid room James turns to face Shepard, "Look, about what happened-" he starts to say, but Shepard cuts him off.

"Don't even think about trying to blame yourself." She says sternly. "Its no one's fault but mine. I am sorry for hurting you. I should never have let myself get out of control. I made a poor judgment call and one of my crew nearly died for it."

James is shocked at the amount of guilt Shepard has placed on herself. It never occurred to him that she would have kept so much guilt and anger internally. "Not so nearly." he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, "Look, don't be so hard on yourself. Shit happens. You're human. There's only so much you can do."

"I could've killed you James. Doesn't that bother you? How can you face me, knowing what I'm capable of?"

James just shrugs. "But you didn't kill me. It'd take more than you going a little loco to scare me off Shep. Besides, Blue can wield some mean biotics. I sure wouldn't want to have been on the receiving end. I'm just glad that you came out ok."

A wry smile crosses Shepard's face and she punches James lightly on the shoulder, "Blue? Does Liara know you call her that?"

"I might've mentioned a time or two." James scratches at the back of his neck guiltily.

"Of all your clever nick names and you pick 'Blue' for her?"

"Oh, I had others." slips out of James' mouth before he catches himself and clamps shut, "Sorry Commander. Didn't mean any offense."

"At ease." Shepard says, irritation starting to creep into her voice. "Stop being so damn formal. We've been through enough hellfire that military formalities have almost no grounds on this ship."

"Yes Ma'am." James grins in spite of himself. "Old habits die hard."

Shepard cuffs his shoulder, "So they do." she extends her hand to him, "Are we good?"

James takes her hand and gives it a firm shake, "Yes Ma'am." he says proudly.

Shepard puts an arm over his shoulder and steers him out of the hold. "Lets go find us a drink to seal the deal, shall we?"

James gives Shepard a noogie then heads into the Starboard lounge. Shepard grins and follows him, glad that he's ok, and that their friendship isn't ruined by her actions.

Entering the lounge Shepard sees Garrus relaxed in a chair facing out the view window.

"Garrus." She says, stopping beside his chair, she looks out the window, deliberately not looking at him. She's worried that maybe her problems might have changed the way he views her, same as everyone else. She doesn't want that. She needs Garrus the same way he's always been. The rock she can lean on that makes her laugh and forget about the galaxy's troubles for a time.

"Shepard." He says from his seat.

A smile tugs at her mouth, guessing the game he's playing. "Garrus." She says again, trying hard not to laugh.

"Shepard." He replies. she can hear the beginnings of amusement in his voice.

Determined to get the last word in before the laughter that's sure to follow, she responds once more, "Garrus."

Garrus breaks down first and roars with laughter as he stands and gives Shepard a one armed hug. "It's good to see you up and about. I was beginning to think I'd have to come rescue you from Liara."

Shepard returns the hug and jabs him with her elbow, "I don't think you would've want to 'rescue' me from what she was doing." She winks at him and takes the seat on his left.

James comes to stand where Shepard was, leaning back against the bulkhead. "Did I miss something? That sounded like an inside joke to me."

Garrus continues too chuckle, "It was. On the first Normandy, Wrex, a krogan we picked up. He was so uptight that for days he always started his conversations with Shepard that way. He'd say her name, she'd say his. It was like watching two dogs face off for dominance."

Shepard shoves Garrus in the shoulder, "It wasn't all that bad. After awhile it just became a joke for Wrex and I to laugh at from time to time." There, she'd said his name, a name of one of her ghosts, and she didn't feel torn or guilty. She could do this. As long as people would quit coddling her.

"Is this a private party, or can anyone join?"

Shepard looks to the door and sees Kaiden standing there, an embarrassed grin on his face. "Depends on what you can bring to the party."

"More good ole times stories?" He shrugs his shoulders, "Or I could bring some beers."

"Since we're in the beer room, that point is nullified." Shepard goes to Kaiden and offers her hand to shake, "I will accept the offer of more stories. Garrus needs another body to embarrass besides me."

Kaiden takes the commander's hand and pulls her into a one armed hug. "Good to see you up and about Commander." she returns to her seat as Kaiden pulls a bar stool over and perches on it.

"So, did I miss any good ones yet?"

"Just a story about Wrex and Shepard's greetings." James says getting up and bringing everyone a beer.

"Damn, that's a good one." Kaiden tips his bottle in thanks to James.

Shepard leans forward on her knees, "Were you a bit closer I'd shove you off that stool." Her grin gives light to her banter.

Garrus looks at Shepard holding her beer, he thinks about denying her it, he did promise Liara. But surely one beer won't be a problem, and she seems to be doing better. He shrugs and lets her be.

Her, Kaiden, and Garrus regale old time's stories to James for many more hours in the lounge. It feels good to just sit and swap war stories with fellow soldiers. Nothing touchy feely ever comes up. None of them treat her like some delicate flower or armed bomb. It just casual banter as it's always been. Simple, easy, relaxing.

Until Joker interrupts them, "Sorry Commander, but I have to butt in on your memory lane trip."

"What is it Joker?" Shepard sets her near empty beer down.

"Priority message from Admiral Hackett."

"Send it to the Comm room." Shepard stands up, "I'm on my way."

"Copy that Commander, Joker out."

Shepard nods to the guys as she quick marches for the lift and up to the Comm room. She barely notices Traynor turn to watch her go by.

She goes to the console in the Comm room. All thoughts of the past weeks out of her mind. She goes into full on Commander Shepard mode.

She flicks on the comm channel. "Admiral Hackett." She salutes as his hologram materializes.

He returns a wave of the arm that could loosely be described as a salute. "Commander. I hope you've enjoyed your reprieve from the war. Things are heating up in the Terminus systems."

She suppresses a snort at him thinking she enjoyed her last weeks. It's best to not let him know what happened. It could cost her a lot more than just her ship and crew if her mental breakdown leaked to the alliance or press.

She eases to parade rest. "Heating up sir?"

"With the head cut off of Cerberus the organization is in chaos. But, as with most criminal gangs, there is serious infighting to take the top seat. Innocent human colonies are getting caught in the cross fire."

Shepard leans on the console, "And you want me to bring some relief?"

"Yes Commander. These colonies have enough to deal with as part of the re-building effort. They are defenseless against Cerberus occupation."

"Why is Cerberus wanting to occupy the colonies in the first place. I know that The Illusive Man steered them completely off their 'Pro-Human' ideals. But surely without him they reverted back?"

"We believe that each cell is trying to gather as many colonies as they can under them to prove dominance.'

"Send Joker the coordinates and we'll get it done, Sir." She snaps to attention and salutes.

"Very well, Commander. Hackett out." He salutes and the comm line goes dead.

Shepard makes her way back to the CIC calling Joker on the intercom, "Joker, Admiral Hackett should be sending you coordinates. Seems Human colonies need our aid once more."

"Aye aye Ma'am."

Shepard steps up to the galaxy map and leans on the rail, releasing a heavy sigh. Is she ready for this? There's only one way to find out.

"Commander?" Traynor asks from beside her.

Shepard turns her head to look, "Yes Traynor?" Her tone of voice invites Traynor to speak candidly.

"Is there anything you need, Commander? Something I can help with?"

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. I'll be in my cabin if anybody needs me. Joker, alert me when we're getting close to the nearest colony."

"Aye Commander."

Shepard turns and walks to the lift without a backwards glance at Traynor.

Samantha Traynor watches the commander leave and wonders, not for the first time, what is really going on in that woman's head. She can't forget that barely more than a week ago Shepard was in the medbay and no one expected her to come back out. Now she was back in command as if nothing happened. She wonders if there wasn't something more going on, and whether Shepard was mentally fit to get back to missions so soon. She turns back to her console and attempts to lose her thoughts to her duties.