First, the reviews I'm getting about Willis being a Mary Sue are getting old. I get it, I respect your opinion, but what can I say? I know you're right and I can totally understand your POV. It's hard to convey the right emotions in just a few chapters, and this is just a very little part of the picture I want to paint of this character, so if you're patient you might reconsider you view (no one's forcing you to read, though, so if you don't like this story, don't read it and voilà!).

Thanks to those who still follow this story and review it regularly, it's really appreciated!

Chapter 9

For days, Liara spent her time wandering aimlessly around the CIC, unable to focus on her studies, expecting Willis to come out of the airlock at any moment. For days, Shepard remained alone in her quarters, sitting expectantly in front of her terminal in case a message from the Admiral would pop up on the screen. They both knew Willis was going to come, sooner or later, and they both knew that the day she would finally walk down the corridor to the CIC would probably be one of those days that were hard to forget, and not for the good reasons. A week after Liara had gone to visit Willis at the hospital, that day finally came.

'Admiral Willis is asking for permission to board, Commander,' Joker announced, his tone heavier than usual.

'Permission granted,' Shepard said, her tongue feeling like a thick piece of cardboard.

The atmosphere in the whole ship suddenly shifted, the usual chatters and other friendly conversations abruptly being interrupted when the airlock opened. The whole crew stopped moving, straightening their backs and preparing to give a proper military salute whenever the Admiral would walk past them. Shepard crossed her hands behind her back, ready to get the treatment she deserved, only hoping she'd still be the commanding officer of her ship in the following hour. Liara simply tried to hide in a corner, fiddling anxiously with her fingers, almost tempted to run away and lock herself up in her room. She held her breath when she heard the first shy but respectful Ma'am and Admiral echoing on her right, and she felt her stomach twist every time her voice followed. Unable to ignore her any longer, Liara looked up slowly, taking a quick glance toward the corridor. And there she was. Admiral Willis, in her impeccable Alliance whites, the perfect rows of badges aligned above the shining Purple Heart, the golden stripes on her shoulder boards reflecting the light of the spots above her head. She still had her cane, although she walked with more ease and she seemed to limp a little less. Liara watched as she proudly made her way toward the center of the CIC, and noticed with a disagreeable pang that she didn't look as kind as she usually did. Her face was cold, her features locked in an emotionless expression, and it was obvious she hadn't come to play the forgiving soul. The Asari had to admit, she didn't know Willis could look so intimidating, and her pinched lips made her look so severe she really started to fear for the Commander.

Liara's breath got caught in her throat when Willis met her eyes and she found herself unable to move, her arms glued to her side and her mouth sealed. The Admiral frowned and took a few steps towards her, so focused on the blue alien that she completely ignored the two officers who were waiting for the authorization to stand at ease. She stopped a few inches away from Liara's face, and squinted dangerously, her two hands resting on the top of her cane.

'I believe you are a member of this crew, Dr T'Soni,' she said lowly, staring into her blue eyes. 'Isn't that right?'

'I… It is,' Liara stuttered, her mouth so dry she had trouble forming the words correctly.

'It is?' Willis asked, raising an eyebrow as if she expected something more.

'Yes,' the Asari continued, her eyes drifting to the side when she saw an officer trying to get her attention on the right. 'I mean, that's right.'

'Who do you think I am, T'Soni?' the Admiral asked, thinking this definitely was a good – though incomplete – revenge.

'I…' Liara hesitated, rocking back and forth on her feet, taking another peek at the young officer. 'Oh, right, you're my superior, Ma'am.'

'Oh, right?' Willis parroted, clicking her tongue impatiently. 'Do you think this is a proper way to address a superior?'

'No, Ma'am,' she finally answered correctly, realizing Willis was doing this just to ridicule her. 'I'm sorry, Ma'am.'

'Good,' the Admiral nodded strictly. 'Try to remember it next time. You wouldn't want a disciplinary sanction, would you?'

'No Ma'am,' Liara struggled to let out despite her constricted throat, deciding this was a facet of Willis she wished she'd never seen.

Liara let out a discreet sigh of relief when Willis finally left her alone, and felt the irrepressible desire to get as far as possible from this despicable situation. She just watched, however, like the others, and this time she really felt bad for Shepard. If Willis could be so heinous towards a shy Asari who still wasn't used to the formal expressions used to address superior ranks, she could barely imagine what kind of misery the Commander would suffer before the Admiral would judge the fault repaired. Shepard felt exactly the same, and she was scared to find out what Willis had planned for her. She just waited for her sentence, knowing there was no way she could escape, each step the Admiral was taking towards her sending a shiver down her spine. After seconds that seemed to last an eternity, Willis eventually stopped in front of the Commander, unaware that the whole crew had stopped breathing and were watching with avid eyes the scene unfold.

'Admiral, Ma'am,' Shepard saluted, a cold bead of sweat rolling down her back.

'Commander Shepard', she saluted back before putting her cane against the desk of the galaxy map, as if she didn't want to look in a lesser position.

'I know it is unnecessary to apologize, Ma'am, but…' she started, hoping to raise her chances to escape trouble.

'You're right,' she interrupted coldly, crossing her hands behind her back. 'Unnecessary and extremely dangerous. We both know why I'm here and I won't tolerate any insidious attempt at flattery or seduction. What's done is done, it's no use trying to plead for a cause that is already lost anyways. Would you rather know what your sanction is first, or should I explain more clearly what you're charged with?'

'I already know what I've done, Ma'am,' Shepard answered, her heart hammering loudly against her ribcage. 'Let's start with the worse.'

'Fair enough,' Willis nodded, taking out a letter sealed with an Alliance stamp of her pocket. 'I have here a document signed by each member of the Alliance board. Until further notice, the Normandy is no longer under your command, and you are temporarily barred from your status of Commander of the Alliance. You are to remain within range of Citadel space for the coming month should you be needed for a more thorough examination of your dossier. You are forbidden to set foot on any Alliance vessel without a proper authorization that only I can deliver. You are forbidden to claim you are a member of the Alliance, to wear Alliance colors, and you shall not use any weapon financed by the Alliance. You can ask for your dossier to be re-evaluated, you can verify the information filed and ask for correction in case something has not been reported rightfully, you can ask for a monetary compensation that must not exceed a thousand credits per month. These rights are discretionary and any request can be met by either a positive or negative answer that must be delivered to you in a maximum of twenty-four hours following the request. Any questions?'

A long silence followed, as if everyone was too shocked too say or do anything, as if no one could believe it was happening for real. Shepard bit the inside of her cheek, doing her best to hide how hard it was to cope with the dreadful news. Outside, she showed no sign that she was particularly affected – though Willis understood right away that was only a façade, and a poorly built one. Inside, her stomach twisted with bitterness, her heart missed a few beats before shattering in little pieces, and her lungs felt as if they were about to implode. She hooked her fingers behind her back and clenched her teeth, too proud to break down in front of her, too clever to contest the sanction, too devastated to raise her voice above a whisper. It was the first time she felt so much anger and so much hate for a superior. She knew that what she had done was highly punishable, but that sanction was beyond anything she had imagined.

'The exact charges?' she simply asked, not giving her the pleasure to look down.

'You disobeyed a direct order from a superior, Shepard,' Willis coolly said. 'That alone is a mistake serious enough to rid you of your status.'

'I asked for the exact charges,' Shepard repeated, refusing to bend under the obvious abuse of authority.

'Very well. You disobeyed a direct order from a superior, you shot three times in a row at a superior, you put your life and the ones of your crew in danger, and you refused to assist a doctor as she was trying to save a superior,' Willis listed, staring down at the Commander. 'You do not seem to realize how serious the first accusation is Shepard. What do you think is the worst thing that could have happened?'

'I could have killed you, Ma'am,' Shepard answered, finally lowering her eyes.

'Wrong answer,' the Admiral said, crossing her arms above her chest. 'And look at me when I talk to you Shepard. So, any more ideas?'

'No, Ma'am,' she grunted, meeting the icy blue eyes against her will.

'Then listen carefully: I do not give a goddamned fuck that you could have killed me. Shit happens, if it wasn't you last week, it'll be a merc next month, a lost bullet next year, a stroke when I'll hit forty. That's not important Shepard. What's important is your crew. You are their superior, they look up to you, you're their model. They put their pride and their souls in your open palms, you're the one taking the decisions, you're the one who judges what can be done, what can't, when to attack, when to retreat, how a situation needs to be handled. You give orders, they follow them. It's simple, but it works. You know why?'

'No, Ma'am.'

'Because they fucking trust you, Shepard. Every time you tell them to do something, they do it without questioning your goals or your motives. They just know they have to do it, because you're the one in command and you know what's best for them. But then, what happens when they realize their commanding officer is a stupid red-furred Pyjack who loves power but can't accept the hierarchy that is fatally attached to it?'

'They stop trusting her, Ma'am,' Shepard answered bitterly, knowing she was right.

'They stop trusting her,' Willis agreed with a sharp nod. 'And that is the worst that could have happened. It doesn't take long for a distrusting crew to rot to the bone, and before you know it everyone will start disobeying, contesting your every order and shoving the rules up their asses. A Commander needs to know how to give orders – that part you handle right. A good Commander needs to know how to follow them. You're not a good Commander, Shepard, and until you learn the basics of hierarchy and why it keeps the whole system afloat, you are not worthy of your position. Pack your things, change into civilian clothes and meet me outside in ten minutes.'

Shepard simply bowed her head a little – after all, she wasn't Alliance anymore, their rules didn't apply to her – and headed toward to the elevator, doing her best to not meet any compassionate pair of eyes as she walked past her former crew. All the soldiers present in the room remained silent even after she disappeared, staring with empty eyes at where she'd been standing for the past quarter. They couldn't believe their Commander was unjustly being ousted of her ship. She didn't deserve this, especially not after everything she had done to keep the galaxy safe. None of them could complain about the way she had treated them and they obviously doubted anyone could ever distrust her. This was all nonsense. They watched with a mix of anger and incomprehension as Willis reached for her cane and followed the path Shepard had taken moments before. She sighed dramatically as she noticed the looks the crew was giving her and faced them, unscathed by their hostile behavior.

'If it weren't for me, the Normandy would already be on dry dock, Shepard would have been fired and you'd all be scattered on different ships, stupid monkeys,' she told them with a grunt, readjusting the Purple Heart on her breast. 'I'm no magician but I'm doing my best, so stop staring at me like I'm a thresher maw that just ate her. Everyone back to their duties. T'Soni, wait for me in your room, and in case you were wondering, yes, that is a direct order I strongly advise to follow.'

The crewmembers watched with a flabbergasted look as Willis shrugged, lifting her eyes to the sky, and headed to the elevator. She pushed the button with an assured punch and sighed again at the obvious slowness of the whole machinery. After what felt like an eternity, she finally reached Shepard's quarters, and stopped in front of the door before it opened with a swoosh. She stepped in carefully, observing with an innocent curiosity the room, her eyes stopping momentarily on the ship models exposed behind two large glass cases and the fish tanks that covered a great part of the left wall. Then she finally noticed the large bag on the bed, the open drawers and closets, and how Shepard sat on her desk chair, her shoulders sagged, her face buried in her hands, her body shaking with cries. Willis cleared her throat and pretended to be interested by the fish tanks, offering her a chance to save the last of her dignity and dry her tears before she could see them.

'Nice fish,' she commented casually, tapping a finger against the glass.

'What are you doing here?' Shepard asked in a voice strained with hurt and anger.

'Making sure that one of the best Commanders of the Alliance doesn't go to waste,' Willis answered, eventually turning to face her.

'As if you care,' the redhead shrugged, violently zipping her bag closed.

'I've just spent three days arguing with the Alliance disciplinary council to save your ass, so yes, I can safely argue I care.'

'Sure, so that little speech down in the CIC was just for the show?'

'Sort of. Whether I had been gentle or not, it doesn't change your fate anyways, does it?'

'Right,' she dismissed the information with a disinterested wave. 'Thanks a lot for letting my crew know I'm a bitch, and thanks for snatching the Normandy away from me, I fear I was getting a bit too attached to her. Oh, I forgot, thank you so much for offering some holidays, I'll send you a postcard from the Citadel space, I hear it is quite beautiful at this period of the year.'

'Trust me, you don't want to play that game with me, Shepard,' Willis threatened under her breath, grasping the collar of her leather jacket. 'I don't like you and I'm not looking for a friend. Hate me as much as you want, insult me and spit at me, I don't give a shit. Now, look into my eyes and tell me this job is not important to you.'

'This job is not important to me,' Shepard said angrily, staring into the bright blue eyes defiantly.

'Can you do this again without pissing your pants?' the Admiral asked, raising her eyebrows. 'You're going to have to do better than this to convince me.'

'I didn't piss my pants,' she spat, throwing her bag on her shoulder. 'And I don't need to convince you of anything. You're nothing to me and I don't need your help.'

'There're only two kinds of persons who can be true soldiers,' Willis commented before Shepard could go. 'The ones born to be soldiers, and the ones who have nothing to lose. What do you have to lose Shepard?'

The redhead tried to find something to shoot back, possibly rude and hurtful, but nothing came to her mind. She was just flustered that the Admiral said this as if she had infused science, as if there was nothing she couldn't know or guess. She assumed Shepard was in the first category, not even giving her the opportunity to let herself decide which one she belonged in – if she belonged in one of them at all. She wanted to lie just to feel the satisfaction to prove her wrong, but deep inside she knew Willis had read her like an open book. Even if she did lie, the Admiral wouldn't be duped, so it was just no use to waste her breath for nothing. Before she could stop them, her eyes naturally searched for holopicture she always kept on her desk, and Willis was smart enough to follow the direction of her glance.

'Ha, I see,' she smiled when she noticed the frame. 'Engineer Glenwood, First Fleet, is that right? Nice woman, very capable.'

'Yeah, so what?', Shepard shrugged, shoving the frame in her bag. 'You're gonna add fraternization to the list of charges?'

'That depends. If you can answer my question, maybe. If you can't, I won't.'

'You're aware this is ridiculous, right?' she sneered, cocking her head to the side. 'Come on Willis, I'm not dumb enough to…'

'What are you going to do with your life if you can never be a soldier again?' Willis simply asked before the former commander could add anything else, leaning against one of the fish tanks.

Shepard took a breath as if she wanted to answer, when she understood why Willis had asked the question. Of course. She knew. That woman was a bitch, but a clever one. Shepard closed her mouth and stared at the Admiral, realizing the help she was offering was a genuine attempt at getting her out of the mud. Willis was just like her. Nothing more, nothing less. She was just a woman who lived for her job, for her dreams, for her ambitions. The military was her way of life and she acknowledged with a bitter pang in her stomach that she was right. She had always been meant to be a soldier and that was the only thing she could do. Not just because she wanted it, but because that job was a part of her, always present in her heart and mind, flowing in her veins and driving her every move. She loved flying her ship from planet to planet, she loved commanding, she loved fighting for good causes, she loved giving grandiloquent speeches to help people out of their misery. She wouldn't trade that life for anything else, and Willis knew that all too well. The Admiral hid her smirk as she turned on her heels, glad that she had succeeded in making Shepard understand that not being a friend didn't mean not being an ally.

'If you're beyond losing a little bit more of that pride of yours, meet me at bay E-47 in two days, first hour,' Willis told her as she huddled to the elevator with her cane. 'I believe you're familiar with the concept of taking a step back to jump further. Don't trip over your own feet, Shepard.'