Lessons
Captain's Cabin
"You okay?" Cortez asked Shepard after making them both a cup of coffee and sitting beside him.
Shepard took his cup, grunted and sat up straight on the couch, staring at his data pad for a moment before letting it fall to the side. "I spoke to James," he said quietly, taking a small sip of coffee.
"Yeah, so did I."
Shepard turned to Steve and watched him for a beat. "What did you say to him?"
"Just a few things he needed to hear." Cortez fell quiet and sipped at his own drink before sighing. "Doesn't mean I don't feel like a piece of crap, though."
"Yeah," Shepard agreed, and they said nothing further until they'd drained their cups. Steve silently took Shepard's cup from him and stood up, moving to the coffee pot and placing the cups down. He then returned to the couch but perched himself on the arm, leaving some space between them.
"How'd it go?" he asked Shepard. "If you're allowed to tell me, that is, and if you want to."
"I am and I do." Shepard patted the seat next to him, and Steve gave a faint smile before sitting down again, this time closer to Shepard.
"I know it couldn't have been easy for you," Steve observed. "Having to discipline someone is hard at the best of times, but when it's a friend…"
"I gave him a warning," said Shepard. "Procedure states that standard punishment for disobeying a lawful order is confinement and reduction of rank, but hell, James is too good a soldier to lose because of a stupid mistake. It's nothing to do with the fact he's my friend."
"I wasn't suggesting anything, you know that."
"I know." Shepard smiled and reached for one of Cortez's hands. "You know what I really wanted to do, Steve? I wanted to crack open a couple beers and tell him about some of the shit I pulled when I was Lieutenant Shepard. I don't know how I got away with most of it, but somehow I did."
Steve grinned, and Shepard shook his head ruefully. "You know, achieving N7 and being designated XO on the Normandy made me," he went on. "I've never been a 'by the book' kind of guy, but for the first time I realized I needed to start setting an example to others – it wasn't about just me anymore. But with James I had to do things by the book. Me being 'one of the boys' wouldn't have helped him."
"You were doing your job," Steve reassured him. "He needed that wake-up call. And he's still Lieutenant Vega. He must be feeling pretty lucky right about now. Let's hope he takes it to heart."
"I was thinking," Shepard began.
Steve frowned, placing a hand on Shepard's brow. "Want me to call Chakwas?"
Expecting a dirty look, Steve was delighted when Shepard laughed. "I walked into that one," he replied. "No, I was just remembering what a hothead I used to be. I had my own ideas about how missions should have been conducted, and didn't hesitate to let my COs know. I have absolutely no idea why Anderson wanted me as his XO. There were several other candidates, all with spotless records. I never disobeyed an order, though, and never got an 'official' reprimand, but I came close a couple of times. There were a few…'chats'."
"Maybe that's why Anderson wanted you," Steve guessed. "He could see your potential, or wanted someone who'd challenge him."
Shepard shrugged. "Maybe. Whatever the reason, he probably saved my career. I would have gotten in trouble eventually."
"What are you saying?" Steve asked. "You wanna recommend James for promotion?"
Shepard shook his head. "No. I need him to know he came that close to losing everything. Besides, he won't be up for promotion until…" He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Did he tell you about…?"
"Being recommended for N7? Yeah. We're the only two people who know."
Shepard nodded. "I'm saying I want to give him a taste of command again, to remind him of his responsibilities and duties to the mission and those under his command. Maybe it'll straighten him out. I know his last command went wrong despite his actions, and he lost a lot of confidence because of that. You know him better than I do, Steve. What do you think? And put Cyone out of your mind when you answer. I know he's capable, but I need to know if he's ready."
Steve raised his eyebrows and blew out a breath. "He's certainly cocky, but that's not the same as confident. It's all a front. James and I talked about what happened with Captain Toni and his squad. He's accepted there was nothing he could have done to stop it, but it still eats away at him. I think he'd like the chance to put things right, you know? He can't bring those people back, but he can command a mission and have it be a success. I really think that's what he needs."
Shepard thought about that for a moment. "There's some Spectre business going down at the Citadel soon, and I wanted to take Kaidan with me instead of having him deputize for me here. I could have James step in as acting XO. Should be an easy command for him if we're parked at the Citadel. It'd be a start, anyway. I just need to be careful I'm not sending out the wrong message – 'disobey an order, get acting XO'."
"No, I doubt he'd see it that way," said Steve, shaking his head. "I think he'd realize what you were trying to do. Beneath all the swagger, there's a pretty sharp brain in his head."
"Yeah, I know that." Shepard glanced at Steve. "You still mad at him?"
Steve fidgeted a little. "I'm trying not to be. But it's hard. When I think about what could have happened… I know," he said, holding up a hand when Shepard frowned. "I just need some time. We're friends and we'll get past it, but I swear, Adam, if he ever puts you in danger again…"
"I have a feeling he won't," Shepard declared confidently. "But rest assured, if he does, I'll kick his sorry ass from here to the Far Rim."
"I'd pay to see that," Steve chuckled.
"So it's decided, then," said Shepard, patting Steve's thigh. "Thanks for the advice. I should make you my full-time advisor."
"Am I gonna see anything for all these extra duties?"
"You're working for the Alliance, not Cerberus," Shepard stated with a raised eyebrow. "Wanna grab some dinner?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
Shepard nodded towards the door and both men stood up before leaving for the Mess.
The following morning
Abby stepped onto the elevator outside the crew quarters and quietly asked EDI for the hangar bay. It was very early, not quite 0600, but she'd hoped to find James awake.
She hadn't slept well; she'd had far too much on her mind for her to truly fall asleep. Everything about the Normandy was still such a wonder to her, its abilities and the beauty outside of its hull a constant revelation, but she had found its crew equally compelling.
Hence her long night.
She'd found it impossible to put James out of her mind since learning he may be facing discipline for his actions on Cyone. She agreed with the commander's reasons, knew as a leader of her own men that it had to be done, but that didn't lessen her worry over how James would had taken the news.
James was different from any other man she'd ever met, both in Ferelden and since her 'death'. He was a wonderful mixture of gentle and hard. An awkward description, she knew, but accurate nonetheless. He was a walking hulk of muscle, with power and strength in every movement, but also possessed a quick smile and a kindness and caring that shone in his eyes.
Two extremes, and their combination was something she was finding very hard to resist, even before he'd so boldly kissed her in the med bay.
She expected that James wouldn't take the 'talk' with his commander very well. Not because he'd believe Adam wasn't being fair, or was in the wrong, but because he'd disappointed the leader Abby knew he admired so much, and created a dangerous situation for those he cared about.
He was, in her humble estimation, a man determined to do what was right, but who wasn't experienced enough yet as a leader to realize his enthusiasm for the fight could still get the better of his sense. It was a hard lesson to learn, one only mastered through trial and error.
This was something she was very familiar with. She knew that the skill of battle came before the warrior gained the perspective needed to apply it correctly. She also knew learning that perspective was a wretched lesson.
It had taken her years of training to learn how to read her opponents, and that skill was something her father had demanded she perform without failure. One needed to understand what one's foe would do next; that was a critical component not only of surviving the fight, but of winning the battle as well. Would he swing high? Would he lunge?
Reading the enemy was vital.
Once she'd mastered this – many dozens of bruises and humiliating defeats later – her father had pushed her even further. He'd required that she and Fergus apply this learned sense of timing not only to themselves but to the men and women they may someday lead into battle: 'Don't just know what your own opponent will do; know what his army will do as well'.
The elevator slowed and the doors opened, allowing her to step out into the massive bay. Her eyes immediately went to Lieutenant Cortez's station, which unsurprisingly was still empty, but as she moved into the main part of the bay, she didn't see James, either.
Wandering over to his work station, she frowned, thrown slightly that he wasn't where she'd hoped to find him. She looked at the workbench, stepping close and fingering a few of the complicated looking tools as she glanced around his work area. Her eyes were drawn to a small picture of James and an older man of similar looks tucked away on his desktop. She reached for it, smiling at the goofy grins shared by both men.
"Having fun, were you?" she whispered under her breath before putting the picture back in its place. She heard a grunt and looked up, not certain where the sound had come from. "Hello? James?"
There was a clatter of metal and she moved past the bench, spying a corridor in the stacked cartons, which she followed. "Hello?" she called again as she followed the path.
"Yeah! Back here!" answered James's familiar voice.
She reached the end of the carton maze and discovered James at its end, surrounded by what appeared to be a makeshift gym. "Hello," she said softly, a smile on her lips. She gestured around her. "This is rather cozy."
He didn't return her smile but nodded, the teasing light she'd grown to expect in his eyes not there. "Yeah. I'm not a big fan of working out with a crowd," he explained evenly. "You're up early," he finished, bending to pick up a dumbbell.
"You're right, I am," she answered, moving closer. "Though not any earlier than you."
"Is there something I can do for you?"
She paused, the tone of his question lacking its usual warmth. She decided to be direct. "No, not really. I just wanted to see you."
He grunted, counting off his reps under his breath, curling his arm rapidly.
"What does that one do for you?" she asked, pointing to the weight in his hand. "Is it hard? To do those?"
He finished his exercises and stood, replacing the weight in a rack. "Yeah, it is."
"Care to show me?"
He walked to her, an eyebrow arched. "Show you? Why?"
"Well, I haven't trained in ages, I wouldn't want to lose my strength," she replied with a shrug. "Besides, one never knows when a dragon might pop in."
He snorted, fighting a smile as he shook his head. "Abby, why are you here?" he asked slowly, finally holding her gaze.
"Because I want to be," she said sincerely, heartened that he'd finally begun to smile. "Now, are you going to show me how to do that exercise or not?"
He grinned, shrugging. "Yeah, I'll show you. Come on."
~o~O~o~
Liara was also up early, and had barely showered and dressed before Glyph was at her side, reeling off a long list of information the Broker terminal had received overnight.
Largely ignoring the drone, she sat at the terminal and began prioritizing her tasks for the day, when she noticed a winking light on her private terminal, situated to her right. "That's the search I left running overnight," she mumbled to herself.
"Yes, Dr. T'Soni," said Glyph, hovering close to her face. "The search has yielded seven positive matches."
"Seven?" she exclaimed, quickly standing and moving to the other terminal before switching it on. "What's the margin of error on the results?" she asked as she took a seat.
"Unknown, Dr. T'Soni. The accuracy of Lady Cousland's data is difficult to determine."
She nodded and looked at the screen thoughtfully. "Thank you, Glyph. Please continue to monitor the Broker terminal."
"At once." The drone drifted away from her and, as soon as the terminal booted up, Liara brought up the images her search had produced, along with Abby's corresponding drawings. She spent several minutes studying the search results before re-checking, not trusting her eyes.
"By the Goddess," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the first image. "I think we've found something."
She immediately stood up, ready to activate her omni-tool, when she remembered the early hour and decided that news like this would be better delivered in person.
"EDI, is Abby awake yet?"
"Affirmative."
Liara started walking quickly to the exit of her office. "Glyph, I'll be in Abby's quarters," she began before EDI spoke again.
"For your information, Liara, Abby is not in the Port Observation Lounge at the present time."
Liara halted at the door. "Where is she?"
"The shuttle bay."
"Is she with anyone?"
"She is conversing with Lieutenant Vega."
"Oh, I see." Liara walked back into her office, a hand over her mouth as she pondered whether she should interrupt them.
"Would it be helpful if I were to inform you when Abby vacates the shuttle bay?"
Liara sighed in relief. "That would be very helpful, EDI. In fact, would you ask her to come to my office?"
"Of course."
"Thank you," replied Liara, switching her private terminal off for the time being.
~o~O~o~
James directed Abby to recline on his weight bench and he stood over her, adjusting the position of her shoulders.
"Okay, don't move," he ordered, moving to his weights. He chose a small set and returned to her. "All right, now bend your elbows back toward the floor, just like I did. Then push straight up, but not too fast, got it?"
"Yes."
"All right, start with ten and then rest. Go."
She began the exercise as he'd directed, quietly counting with him. He leaned over her, gently touching her right elbow, adjusting her position, but otherwise didn't speak until she'd finished.
"Ten. Weights down, rest," he said, moving back to her. "That was pretty good."
"That was pretty easy," she argued, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance. "I'm not a wimp, you know. Why are you taking it easy on me?"
He grinned. "'Cause you're a girl," he teased.
She sat up from the bench and crossed her arms. "You're ridiculous!" she laughed. "Come on, you aren't going to hurt me. I'm made of stern stuff, you know."
He chuckled, turning back to his weights. "That, I know," he replied, picking a larger weight. "So, how'd you train in Ferelden? I mean, here, we've got combat simulators, training squads, schools and stuff. How'd you learn to fight?" He held out the weight to her and she took it. "Just curl your arm like this," he instructed, watching her follow his directions. "Good."
"My father's captain of the guard gave my brother and me a broad education in weaponry and drilled us in various techniques. Once we'd shown a proficiency in a certain area, he selected the proper instructors in those skill sets and we trained in earnest."
"How old were you when that started? Like thirteen? Fourteen?"
"Six," she replied, continuing her exercises.
"Six?" he repeated, his eyebrows up in surprise. "You gotta be kiddin' me."
"No," she giggled, shaking her head. "Six is a very normal age to begin such training."
"Okay, then tell me what exactly they trained you in," he prodded. "Switch arms now," he directed, gesturing to the weight.
She did as he bid. "Fergus learned basic sword and shield, but eventually proved to be adept with weapons such as a maul or war axe. I was awful with a shield, but I did very well with a weapon in each hand, so I learned to fight with both, one blade complementing the other. I'm also quite good with a bow."
"Two swords? Seriously? At six?"
"Yes, at six. Though I think I was eight or nine when I began training in two-handed techniques. Why are you so shocked by the age?"
"'Cause you were a kid! You shoulda been running around outside, you know? Pigtails and stuff."
She arched an eyebrow and stopped her exercise. "Pigtails?"
He grinned. "Sure. I bet you were pretty cute, too."
"Perhaps," she replied with a small smile. "Six is a very good age to start training. I was in line to inherit my father's title, at least, I was until Fergus married and had a child of his own. How could I have possibly led the people of Highever if I didn't know how to defend them?"
"I guess you've got a point," he admitted.
"Ferelden had been occupied for generations by a neighboring country," she continued. "My father and mother were part of the rebellion that freed us from it. War was a constant during their youth and obviously it proved a part of mine as well."
"So that's why you learned it all, huh? I guess that wound up being a good thing, considering you ended up saving everyone from those darkspawn."
She finished her reps and nodded, offering him back his weight. "Yes, I suppose it did."
He twisted the weight in his hand before sighing and moving to replace it in its stand. "Guess that's where you learned how to lead, too? That must have been helpful, having your dad be in charge of such a big place, so many people?"
"It helped," she agreed softly, watching him carefully. "I don't know that it made me any better at it. Leadership is something that's forged, something that's shaped through experience and error."
His back was to her, his eyes still on the equipment, but she saw his shoulders droop. "Seems like I've got the error part down pat," he said solemnly. "I screwed up big time the other day. I got too caught up in things and lost sight of the big picture."
"You're hardly the first," she replied. "I was guilty of that a few times myself."
"Yeah, but I'm guessing your mess ups didn't nearly get you or your commander killed."
She sighed, her eyes on his back. "My father was a genius at, well, everything, really," she began, sitting down on the weight bench. "He was a warrior of bravery and skill, an amazing diplomat – he could defuse almost every single situation he ever had to deal with. He was friend to two kings and at one point, the nobility of Ferelden even tried to make him one. He was aware of every single thing that went on in Highever, knew every family and could tell you how many heads of cattle were on our lands and how many bushels of grain we'd yield."
She paused as James slowly moved to face her, watching as he crossed his arms.
"Sounds like a good guy."
"He was. My mother was beautiful, kind, smart and could wield a sword like any man. My older brother was dashing and followed perfectly in my father's footsteps. I assure you, they were a very tough act to follow."
"I can understand that."
"I thought you might," she replied kindly. "Anyway, in the span of a few hours my entire family was gone. There I was, absolutely numb from the pain of it and the next thing I knew, I was expected to end the Blight, the single greatest threat to Thedas."
"I'm sorry. I can't imagine how you got through that."
She shrugged lightly but he saw a heart-rending pain in her eyes as she moved to stand next to him.
"My point, James, is that despite having amazing examples before me, I had no bloody clue how to lead. I'd never been tested; I'd only ever had to give a few orders to my father's men. I didn't understand how to use people or their skills in fray, I had no idea how to rally or manage everyone. I made a complete mess of it; nearly the entire group took issue with me over something at some point."
"How'd you get through it? How'd you get better at it?"
"It took some time, but I finally learned to stop letting my heart get in my way when I was in battle."
"That's hard to do."
"It is, perhaps the hardest thing, actually. But I think it was the key," she said with a small shrug. "I learned to leave my fears, excitement, anger, everything, at camp. Then I could see what needed to be done, and not just for myself, but for those who were counting on me. I wasn't Abby – I was Warden Cousland, commander and leader against the Blight."
He studied her for a moment. "That helped?"
"It did. It was hard to learn to do, to leave Abby behind, but it made it easier. Warden Cousland could do what she had to and things got better," she explained, putting her hand on his forearm. "It gets easier, James. You learn from those kinds of things and Commander Shepard is a good mentor. Don't get lost in what happened. Take it for what it is and do better."
He sighed, looking down at her hand, which she hadn't moved. He shifted, catching it in his own and toying with her slender fingers, pleased that she didn't pull away. "You're right. I will."
"Good."
He smiled softly, her hand seeming to tingle in his. "So, that ah, that Warden Cousland sounds like a badass to me."
She grinned, squeezing his hand. "I expect Lieutenant Vega is as well."
"Maybe I should take him along on missions and leave ol' James here for a while," he said. "He's kind of a screw-up."
She leaned close, her free hand catching his other. "I'm rather fond of him," she confessed softly.
He gently pulled her to him, so she was resting against him, as his heart skipped inside his chest. "Huh, really? Uh, why's that?"
"He's kind, he looks after me and he makes me feel safe. Plus, he's handsome and I can beat him at cards."
He blushed, looking aside as he held back a smile. "Handsome? Nah, he's covered in scars and tattoos."
"I like them," she whispered. "In fact, I like a lot about James."
His arms wound around her and she raised herself on her tiptoes, her eyes locked with his. "My turn," she breathed, kissing him lightly before stepping back. His arms dropped away from her waist and he looked dazed. "Thanks for the lesson," she said quietly before hurrying away.
He watched her go, his fingers on his lips, a grin spreading slowly across his face.
She'd given him a lot to think about, not just about how he could learn from his mistakes, but about her. "Thanks yourself," he replied as he ran a hand over his short hair.
Moving around his workout space, he cleaned up and locked the weights securely into place. Her advice was playing over and over in his mind and he realized she was right: he needed to learn to separate his emotions from his missions or he'd keep making dangerous choices.
The more he considered that, the more certain he was of what he needed to do.
He returned to his work bench and turned on his desktop, noticing the time. The day shift would be starting in a few more minutes and it was time to talk to both Shepard and Cortez. He needed to clear the air and make sure his commander knew James was taking what happened on Cyone seriously.
It was time to man up.
