Perspective 12

"John?"

Shepard's heart soared as Miranda's melodic accent echoed in his ears. Giddy relief swept through him and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Yet something was wrong. The voice had been broadcast to his earpiece. He reached up to it and scanned the crowded docking bay where she had told him to meet her. Her white and black catsuit was nowhere in sight.

"Miranda. Where are you?"

She made an exasperated noise. "Stop touching your earpiece, damn it! You'll draw attention to it!"

His arm dropped to his side.

"I never understood why you and Garrus always insisted on doing that. Even in the middle of combat for Christ's sake."

"Style?" he murmured, taking a closer look. It was bay D24, the Normandy's regular assigned port. Civilians of all major races were scattered in loose gaggles along the hallways, and in the seating area. He couldn't see her in the crowd, and fiery frustration ignited within his chest. "Where are you? You said we were going to meet here."

"I am here, John. I can see you."

He scanned the faces of all the women in the crowd, and came up empty. "Well I can't see you. Why aren't you with me?"

"…It's complicated."

"How?" he inquired, failing miserably to mask his frustration.

"Be subtle. Look to your three O'clock."

John cast a casual glance to his right. The seating area was half-full. A group of young Asari, a sleeping Quarian migrant, a group of human passengers, and a mixed bag of Turians and Salarians. A Hanar was in the corner, preaching its words of enlightenment to anyone who would listen.

"The humans, the passengers in the green jackets? Those are N7 commandoes. They've had the same training as you, and their division has been trying to catch me for the past two weeks. Cerberus fed them a tip I might try to get aboard the Normandy. They are always here when you dock. "

One of the incognito soldiers, her nose buried a little too far into her book, caught his dumbfounded stare and sent him a flirty wink. He waved awkwardly. One of her companions leaned over to whisper something to her, and now that he was watching for it, Shepard saw the way the passenger moved. Miranda was right, they were N7 marines. It was a certainty of motion, and their calm stillness during the long waiting periods. N7 Marines did not fidget. It was not even a conscious thing, but it was a dead giveaway.

"They know who you are. By the way, if that marine woman makes a pass at you, respond in kind. Be flirty. It will lessen the suspicion that you and I had a rendezvous planned."

"You want me to…?"

"Of course not. But it's part of the job. Are you aware that you have been standing in front of the Normandy's airlock for the past seventy-two seconds, talking to yourself? It's beyond suspicious, and you need to move. Again, be subtle. Do you see the Pillar opposite Avina's terminal?"

John spotted the solitary pillar at the far end of the docking bay. A couple, an Asari and a Turian were standing near it, engaged in their own private conversation.

"I see it."

"Take up position on the right side of the pillar, and stay near the window. The docking bay cameras have a blind spot there."

John flashed the female marine a smile of his own, and carefully made his way over as Miranda had instructed. He settled against the railing, watching taxis fly past the window.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "Are you safe? Are they listening to us?"

"Yes to the first two. As for the latter, I know how to do this, John. I've got our conversation routed through several proxy servers. Through the Alliance's classified networks, I also hacked your Omnitool. We're changing communication frequencies every six point eight seconds. That buys us about fifteen minutes without their hounds knocking at our doors. It's the fastest security measures I could put in place on such short notice. You'll have to forgive me. I've been on the run most of the time. The Illusive Man doesn't take rejection well."

"Are you alright?"

"I fine, John. He tried, and he failed. I suppose he taught me a little too well. It's ironic, really."

"Come aboard the Normandy." Shepard suggested hopefully. "You wouldn't have to deal with all of that…"

"I wish I could. I want to."

"So let's do it. We'll pick you up. No one's going to argue with me."

"How I wish that were true."

"I will pull my weapon on them before I let them do this to us again." John murmured through gritted teeth.

"I know…" she said gently. For a moment, her clipped, business-like tone faded. "I would too, and that's exactly why I can't stay with you right now, regardless of how much I want to. There are too many larger things at stake here. Putting your reputation and credibility at risk also endangers your efforts to unite the species against the Reapers."

"You're very well informed, Miri."

"Any idiot could figure out your plan, John. You've only been laying the foundation for it for the past three years."

John grinned to himself, staring out across the length of the ward arm. "Did you ever try to contact me while I was in lockdown?"

"Secret meetings with the Cerberus second-in-command?"

"…Would have been tough to explain." He admitted.

"Any kind of secret communication would have been even worse. Besides, I'm tired of it. The Life, I mean. This life. I think… I've been doing this for too long… I don't want this to be something we have to hide."

"It won't be."

"All we have to do is beat the Reapers to get there."

"Right. Sooo… tomorrow evening, then? A bottle of Thessia red, and some classical music?" Her laughter echoed through his earpiece. John smiled and shut his eyes. How he treasured that sound… She did not laugh very often, but it was when she was at her most beautiful.

"I want you to know that I missed you. Surprised myself, how attached I got. I'm not good at attached."

"I missed you too, Miri. Still do."

"I know. Something else is wrong though, and I'm getting worried. Oriana missed her last two daily check-ins."

Shepard felt a stab of jealousy. Six months of no contact with him, yet she had talked to her sister on a daily basis. He wasn't sure which relationship Miranda valued more: her affection for him, or her sisterly love. He was absolutely positive that a competition was not a healthy way to look at the whole situation, either.

"What's going on?"

"I… I don't know, but all of my surveillance went dark shortly afterwards."

"Did Cerberus go after her?"

"Perhaps they enabled it. spread a few tips. But I've done a little digging and the entire situation stinks of Father's influence."

"Well where is he? I'll knock some sense into him."

"I appreciate your candor, John, but you haven't a subtle bone in your body. He is donating heavily to several war refugee funds at the moment. If you take him out, that cash flow stops, and they need that money. This is a delicate dance, not to mention a family matter. The moment you enter the picture, so does the public. I can't allow that."

"I want to help."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but you have your hands full. Don't pretend otherwise. You deal with the Reapers, and I promise I will be here after it ends. We'll be together."

"Do you remember what we said about promises?"

Silence on the other end.

"I need more, Miri. I don't want to put you in danger, but I can't just leave here without… I can't walk away. I can't function on just a promise you know you might not be able to keep. I need something solid. I need to know you're actually here. I missed you, Miri. I could hardly bear it."

He heard her soft sigh on the other end of the line. After a few moments she said, "I don't think I can walk away either…" he could practically hear the wheels in her brain spinning industriously on the other end of the line. After a few moments of deep thought, she said, "Damn it, alright. But let's do this carefully. Face the window, hands at your sides. Whatever you do, don't look for me. Keep your eyes out the window. You promise?"

"Why?"

"Those are my terms."

"They're stupid terms."

"Those stupid terms will keep us both safe. The moment they find out about us, you're compromised. You know that, John. They can't know we've communicated. Just… trust me."

"I do."

John obeyed, staring out the window. After about a minute, he smelled her perfume, the scent lingering in the air around him. It shocked him; she had been there in person the whole time! Through the whole conversation she had been watching him. Near him, somewhere in the docking bay. How close had she been? Somewhere in the crowds at the security checkpoint? With the Hanar? Hiding in plain sight amongst the N7 commandos?

All of his questions vanished as her clothed fingertips, gentle and slim, slid into his palm, caressing it for just a moment. He wanted to look. With all his heart, he desperately wanted to. Yet though it nearly killed him, he kept his promise. They slipped away and vanished. Shortly afterwards, her scent faded too. John kept staring out the window, trying desperately to put himself back together.

Inside the Normandy, the airlock door slid shut. Shepard leaned back against it, his eyes shut tightly as he ran the conversation through his head again and again.

"You know it's been like three hours, Commander. Where have you been? You rushed off in a hurry. Didn't even give me a destination."

Shepard started, opening his eyes. Joker was seated in the pilot's chair. He had turned 180 degrees to face the airlock, a mock angry expression on his face. Garrus was standing beside the pilot. The Turian was giving the Commander a speculative look. Shepard met Garrus' eyes first. The Turian's mandibles twitched, his species' equivalent of a raised eyebrow. He was searching. Not for answers, but for confirmation. Shepard smiled slightly and nodded. Pleased, Garrus nodded back, his suspicions confirmed.

"You left me hanging for a dead Asari Merc." Joker grinned, either oblivious, or choosing to ignore the silent conversation. "It hurt my feelings."

Shepard grinned, clenching and unclenching his hand, trying to hold onto the feeling of her fingertips. It was something to grasp at least. He had an anchor now. Something to hold on to. Something to fight for. He glanced down the long hallway to the CIC, and noted the sour expressions on the faces of most of his crew. The Normandy's crew. Garrus had been right; he had let this go on for far too long.

Time to turn things around. Speaking slightly more loudly than usual, so that the crew could hear the confidence and self-assurance in his voice, Shepard said, "Head to the war summit, Joker. It's long past time we got this show on the road."

He turned and headed back towards the CIC. Garrus fell into step beside him, and as they walked away, the Turian gave him a firm pat on the shoulder.

Consciousness came slowly, and for a few happy moments, Ashley's mind was peacefully blank. Her head was pounding, and even the slightest attempt at movement resulted in needles shooting up and down her neck.

She tried to open her eyes, and winced as bright light lanced through the crack in her eyelids.

"I'm sorry about this…" said a female voice, too young to be Chakwas. And the Normandy's medbay lights had always been dimmed a little except for emergency procedures. So where was she? In the background, she could hear a familiar white noise and the buzz of activity which answered her question immediately: She was on the Citadel's presidium.

She tried yet again to open her eyes, and this attempt was somewhat more successful. A blue blur slowly formed into the concerned and guilty face of an Asari doctor.

"I'm sorry." The alien said again. "You really aren't ready for this, but the Councilor insisted."

"Is she awake?" another voice asked. This one was petulant, demanding, and male. Udina's voice. The man moved into view and hovered over her, peering down at her as if examining a classroom science experiment. He said, "Williams, welcome back."

"Sir…" she rasped, letting her eyes shut. The light was far too painful. Ashley slowly faded in and out of consciousness. Voices slipped in and out of hearing, but she managed to pick up the odd partial sentence. She wasn't sure how long the conversation was taking. It could have been an hour, or a matter of seconds.

"…need her more attentive."

"Patient …to rest."

"…has to wake up."

"Can't do that… out her own permission."

"Lieut …liams is a hero… exemp… arine Corps. Humanity needs her. We ne… more than ever."

"Not without her consent."

A small amount of pressure was placed on Ash's shoulder and after a few groggy seconds, she identified it as Udina's hand. He said, "Humanity needs you, soldier!"

"Yes sir." She said as coherently as she could manage.

Humanity's councilor turned back to the doctor. "There… consent."

Ashley slipped away.

The second time she awoke, she was far more coherent from the start. Her eyes flew open, and she examined her surroundings immediately, trying to get her bearings. She was dressed in a hospital gown, and her gear was nowhere in sight. The wall to her left was transparent, showing off a wonderful view of the Presidium. To her right was a shaded glass wall separating her modest room from the rest of the hospital. Several different clear liquids were being drip-fed into her arm, and an Asari doctor was standing near the medical equipment, trying to look pleased.

"Good afternoon." Said the doctor. She glared at someone over Ashley's shoulder, and removed an empty syringe from the machinery hooked into Ashley's arm. "She's awake now."

"She gave her consent." Udina stepped into view.

"Such as it was, I suppose."

"Leave us." The councilor ordered.

The doctor made an irritating noise, but turned and walked out, leaving Ashley alone with the human councilor.

"Sir." She said. She had a terrible headache, and her spine still tingled, but both problems were not nearly as severe as when she had first woken up. One of the clear plastic containers hanging from the rack behind her must have been filled with some sort of pain killer.

Udina produced a chair and sat down beside her sterile cot, his hands clasped in front of him. "Williams, I wish I could have given you the time to rest and heal properly, but I am afraid there is too much to be done."

"I'm ready, sir." Ashley said immediately, despite her injuries. "Whatever you need me for."

Udina smiled. "That is exactly the kind of drive we need to put this situation to rights. I never had much respect for Admiral Anderson, as you know, But it is easy to see why he chose to have you assigned to the Normandy."

"Where's Shepard, sir? How long have I been out?"

"Your injuries at the hands of Cerberus were far too severe for the Normandy's medical bay. You were brought to the Citadel and dropped off at Huerta Memorial Hospital for proper treatment. As one of Humanity's finest soldiers, your name is near the top of our triage lists."

Ashley's hear sank. "You have lists already?" how long had she been out?

Udina nodded grimly. "I wish I could say this war was going well. It has been just over two weeks since the Reapers took earth from us. I regret to say that we have not been able to do much to slow them down. As for Commander Shepard…" Udina's equine face, as dreary as it had been at the start, turned even more sour. "Well… as far as our agents can ascertain, he is spending most of his time in the Aralakh system, attempting to broker a treaty between the Krogan and the Turians."

Ashley snorted. The idea sounded insane, but she was somewhat glad that he- that someone – anyone - was trying to make progress against the Reapers. She frowned as she processed Udina's wording. "What do you mean 'our agents'?"

"Commander Shepard is working exclusively with Admiral Hackett. He has refused to even reply to larger Alliance updates and orders. He appears to prefer working a little more… independently. But his mission is fool's errand, to be sure." Udina agreed. He shifted uncomfortably. "It was on that subject, actually, that I wished to converse with you."

"Can't happen, sir." Ashley told him confidently. "Those two races hate each other too much."

"Once again, I couldn't agree more. Only a fool would assume they could solve a blood feud running that deep. It is an optimist's pipe dream and we are past the point where those can sustain us. Optimists are fools, Williams. I, on the other hand, am a realist. And a cautious one."

"So cautious you weren't even willing to accept the Reapers were real." Ashley said. She had never quite forgotten, nor forgiven the man's betrayal during their fight against Saren.

To her surprise, the man actually looked mournful. Penitent, even. "I am well aware of the number of lives my own hesitancy cost, Lieutenant-Commander. They are weighing more heavily on my conscience than even before. The best I can do now is to protect Humanity and the Alliance to the very best of my abilities. Which is why I would like to get back to the subject at hand. I have been a politician for a long time, Williams. May I call you Ashley, by the way?"

"Williams will do, with due respect, Sir." She said, trying to be polite.

The aged man flashed her a slight smile. "Of course, Williams. As I was saying, I've been a politician for a very long time, and the one commonality I've found between all races is that there are always at least two reasons for any action taken by a representative of a governing body. The reason given-"

"…And the real reason." Ashley finished for him.

"Exactly." Udina said. "And I couldn't help but notice a rather disturbing pattern about John Shepard's movements since the war started. He says he's trying to broker peace. But wherever he goes, Cerberus seems to follow. They are in Aralakh system right now. It has been confirmed that he has encountered them at least once. His reports are… vague."

"Maybe they're trying to kill him."

"Perhaps."

They sat in silence for a short time while Ashley tried to sort out exactly what the man meant. She was smart enough to recognize the accusation when she heard it, and she had to admit, a certain treacherous part of her agreed with him.

"I did a little digging into his past. Found a few interesting facts. One of them being your surreptitious relationship."

A cold stone seemed to settle in Ashley's gut as she recalled that passionate night before Ilos. Now more than ever in the past year, it seemed like a mistake. "Am I in trouble, sir?"

"Williams, if the Alliance went about punishing every marine who needed to blow off steam, we would get little else done. It is not unheard of, after all. That is how Shepard came to be in the first place. Just so long as it doesn't interfere with your professional lives - and it doesn't appear to have in this case- we are more than willing to turn a blind eye. As a matter of fact, I was hoping you might be able to use it to provide both of us a more intimate perspective on recent events."

"I don't think he is with Cerberus, sir." She said. "We spoke to the Illusive Man on Mars, sir. They did not seem to get along at all."

Udina's eyes narrowed in surprise. "You did? Fascinating."

Ashley shuddered as she recalled the Terrorist's strange robotic eyes.

"It may interest you to note that Shepard did not mention any negotiations in his Mars incident report."

"He… he didn't?" Why wouldn't he do that? Why not?

"I would like you to think of how much is going to revolve around Shepard. He certainly did an excellent job of putting himself in the center of this war. If he is with Cerberus…"

"I'm not sure he is, sir. There's plenty of room for doubt."

Udina nodded smoothly. "As there was when you were chasing Saren. And yet you criticize me for doubting the Reapers back then. At the time a far more preposterous preposition."

"The Skipper is not with Cerberus, sir."

"How very …optimistic… of you, Williams." Udina rose to his feet. "I am going to do some more digging of my own, and see what surfaces. He was out of Alliance space for three years doing God only knows what with God only knows whom. During two of those years, he failed to contact everyone and anyone he ever knew from his life beforehand. Including you. It looks to me like he wasn't a very devoted lover. One wonders what he was devoted to."

Ashley licked her lips and stared angrily down at her sheets. Even now, with all that was going on, that fact still burned. Two years with no contact. Udina was right: where had the Skipper been? What had he been doing? Udina said, "I will do more research. If Shepard is to be the lynch pin of Reaper resistance, I need to know he can be trusted. Have a good day, Lieutenant-Commander."

No contact for six months for fear of damaging his public image, and then Miranda just meets him randomly out in the open in the middle of a high-traffic docking bay? Their first encounter in Mass Effect 3 never felt right to me. It was too easy, and it paid no respect to the reality of their situation.

I also wanted to paint Udina as a little more sympathetic than he is. It makes weird sense to me that his cooperation with Cerberus in the third game is him overcompensating for his failure to support the war in the first game. Can you imagine the guilt one would feel after denying the existence of something like the Reapers and finding out you were wrong? How many lives that denial cost? I'd want to do everything I could to play an important role in putting things right, which may have been why he accepted the Illusive Man's offer.