Service Chief Shepard settled back in the copilot's chair, prepared to enjoy a few days on the SSV El Alamein relatively alone. The viewscreens before her, still lit up as background tasks filtered through their algorithms in the absence of the pilot, showed the main city of the Elysium colony.
Elysium may be the biggest colony the Alliance had, but to Shepard it looked like just another city. Skyscrapers, concrete, lots of the things she was sure held that ever-elusive concept of 'fun'. However, it was just another city, and she had seen so many since enlisting. It didn't make sense to her; she would rather stay on the ship, sleep and enjoy the silence.
Though she would doggedly argue to the contrary, the fact remained Shepard tended to keep herself as solitary as a hawk.
Which had to end, Commander Robbins frowned, as she spotted the familiar brown hair pulled back neatly into the regulation bun. "Shepard!"
Shepard jumped, then turned, scrambling out of the seat to get to her feet. "Ma'am!" She snapped to, recognizing Robbins' tone.
She should have hid out in engineering or something – a place Robbins wouldn't go. There were no regs saying she had to go ashore, after all. She was perfectly free to stay put…
…according to the regs. Robbins apparently had other ideas.
"What are you doing, Shepard?" Robbins sighed. The girl was such a recluse, if she was going to stay aboard when the jewel of colonization sprawled out before her like a carpet. There were plenty of places for – and she used Shepard's word – geeks to go hang out. Do geeky things. Get a little sun. Spacefarers tended to be a bit pale, but this was ridiculous.
"Um…" Shepard swallowed, then opted for the unaltered truth. "Watching the viewscreens to make sure the algorithms run smoothly, ma'am."
"Uh huh." Robbins cast another critical look at Shepard. "Get your stuff, and get off the ship."
Shepard's expression fell. She couldn't very well argue with Robins, who was regarding her with narrowed eyes. She did not need to tell Shepard she was going to stand here and watch Shepard disembark. With a sigh, Shepard headed down to get her personal effects – it was only a day trip, so personal effects meant her bag with her papers…and her shotgun.
Robbins did not roll her eyes when Shepard reappeared, her equivalent of a purse slung across her shoulders, her shotgun hanging across her back. It was not uncommon for marines or anyone, really, to take a firearm with them when on leave – especially if they were unfamiliar with the population – but really…the shotgun? A pistol would have sufficed, but Robbins knew the attachment to the shotgun was more than a security blanket. Shepard would dig her heels in. She would also lose the argument, but she would have eaten up who knew how much time, and Robbins looked forward to getting off the ship for awhile.
She did not look forward to a war of words with Shepard. And of all the people who wanted to argue back, Shepard had a margin of success higher than most, because she did it by exploiting the Big Book of Rules. "All right, off you go." Robbins nodded to the airlock, falling into step behind Shepard.
"Commander?"
"Hm?"
"Can I ask…why?" Shepard frowned at Robbins.
"Shepard, this is a vacation, not an execution. Go, have some fun…do whatever it is you like to do…" Robbins wasn't sure if Shepard had any hobbies that did not contribute to the continuation of the Alliance. Which made her more determined to pry Shepard off the El Alamein, as determinedly as she'd ever pried a bad habit from a new crewman.
Shepard locked onto the inherent weakness of this statement, and could have used it to argue Robbins into letting her stay aboard. However, she respected Robbins enough not to exploit this particular weakness – so she made an effort not to show how let down she was by her argument and her allegiances. Shepard was not known for her sense of humor, nor for participating wholeheartedly in the human quest for fun. Life made her fairly serious, and Robbins knew it. "I'll try." The words sounded almost dragged out of her, against her will.
Normally this would have brought not so serious correction that marines didn't try: they damn well did. Robbins, like Shepard, was in a mood to let the little things slide. "It's Elysium, Shepard. It's well established."
Shepard nodded, knowing what Robbins was getting at. "I'll keep that in mind, ma'am." It would do no good to tell Robbins they had thought Mindoir was well established - but today, that didn't even come into her desire to stay aboard.
She simply wanted some time by herself. It happened when you lived in close quarters with quite a few people – a liking of solitude. She supposed she could find solitude out in the city, but the fact remained she'd still be surrounded by a sea of humanity, which defied the point entirely.
The airlock slid open, making Shepard squinting in the blindingly brilliant sunlight. Fresh air carrying the scent of a city – smoke, exhaust, dust, things one became aware of when living on recycled air - wafted around her, as sound began to press against her eardrums. Windows winked and glittered in the city sprawling below the spaceport, warm sun seeping into Shepard's skin through her dark blue uniform.
"No fair doubling back on me, kid."
Shepard grimaced, but did not dignify this with a remark. Instead she marched off, one-two-one-two as if back in boot camp. Rather than bounding out of the port, eager to get away from the confines of the ship as quickly as possible, she looked as though she were arching off to her own execution.
"Come on Shepard!" Robbins' voice, riddled with amusement, railed after her. "It's a vacation! Not a death sentence!"
Famous last words: she was so wrong, it ended up funny.
