AN: Yes, this is a reference to one of my previous fan fics. Thought it would be a fun call back. Also due to technical difficulties the next chapter may be a little later, in the next few days or so. Nothing major and I was not going to stick to a strict schedule on this anyways per se but the next chapter probably should have been uploaded tonight or tomorrow and it may be a little later then that.
I am pleased to see all the people reading it and following this story so far, I know it might be a small thing, but as always if you are enjoying it...or even if you are not...reviews would always be helpful. Thank you for your time.
Abigail Shepard
At least it is cleaner than the last time I was in the provisional detention facility in Los Angeles County.
The Alliance prison facility in Vancouver was spartan in its gray walls but it seems like the Alliance took it seriously enough to keep up and maintain its walls with fresh paint and descent washing of the environment. The local jail she was sent to just after the murder of the Banker her boyfriend at the time was responsible for.
Fun times.
But this place was so clean it almost defied her sense of order in the universe. Jails weren't supposed to be clean, they were supposed to represent the trash and the waste of humanity the people who usually occupied them were supposed to be, or at least how society viewed such people.
She also knew that prohibitions against cruel and unusual punishment was baked into the Alliance Charter as it was in most civilized societies and yet she always felt it ironic…and more then a little cruel…that citizens would often have to wait an extended period of time before they even got to being tried. In her case the docket had her tribunal set for nearly a month from now and she had already been in here a week.
I'm going to be driven mad.
Worse still despite giving her only an Alliance tank top and a pair of regulation battle pants they kept the room at a chill twenty three degrees Celsius, enough to give her pinpricks on her arms and make her more then a little uncomfortable.
And now that she had finished her afternoon meal she had nothing to do but lean against out across her cot, one leg pulled up nearly to her chest and the other stretched out, eyes half lidded from the boredom of it all.
OK, OK I'll talk, just give me something to do!
The sound of the electronic locks on the door outside of her cell opening made her turn towards it and blink, the only good thing for her surroundings is at least they were a private cell, though on the other hands probably not a lot of people being held for war crimes in the offices of the JAG for the Alliance.
The man who came in the door wore the dress blue uniforms of an Alliance Commander, his skin was ebony black, broad in the shoulders, and with short cropped black hair to match the overall ensemble.
"Commander Anderson here to see the prisoner." The man murmured out.
The guard pulled open one of the desk drawers and she handed him a note pad to sign, the man took it and scrawled his signature on it in the haphazard manner of officers who were responsible for way too much paper work.
Anderson…Anderson…where have I heard that name before?
The guard took the pad back and then eyed the Commander skeptically, "With respect sir this is a dangerous fugitive, releasing her, even into your custody could have severe consequences."
"I am well aware of how dangerous she is, Sergeant. I am an N7 after all."
The woman stiffened and Shepard felt one of her red eyebrows arch in surprise.
Curiouser and curiouser.
The mass effect field powering the door whirred off and Anderson approached her. "Come on Shepard, let's go get some air."
The air in question happened to be the outer terrace of the building the prison facility was located in, towering over downtown Vancouver. The late fall temperature of fourteen degrees Celsius was much colder then even the cooled interior, but fortunately Anderson had let her borrow a civilian's blouse to put over the tank top as well as a gray cotton jacket.
"Thank you…I think." She offered to him leaning against a concrete wall on one side of the entryway.
"Are you always so noncommittal with your thanks Shepard?" Anderson probed with an amused lilt.
She rejoined sarcastically in kind, "well our dear desk Sergeant is right, I am a dangerous criminal after all…some may even call me a war criminal. In my experience the Alliance does not let you out of jail unless they want something from you."
Anderson frowned for a moment and looked away deep in thought. "Come on, are you hungry? I'm sure that prison food wasn't the best fare you've ever had."
"It also wasn't the worse," she pointed out suspiciously.
"Come on I know this great burger joint about two blocks from here, it'll give us time to talk."
The joint in question was a single story diner which looked quaint in comparison to the skyscrapers and multi floored structures all around it, a sign proudly proclaiming it as 'Ruby's' adorned it just over the entrance, there was also something…old about the building which struck Shepard as a further oddity but she decided to let it go unsaid, wearily noting all the aircars which were parked around it.
The interior was just as packed as the outside looked and it was even a little smokey which made it hard to see the surroundings, and also wanted to make her gag, but the smell of cooking beef made her stomach growl in response.
Traitor. She admonished.
It just gurgled back at her further advertising its hunger.
"David! Good to see you!" A man yelled from behind the kitchen waving over at him.
"Alberto!" Anderson grinned back.
Shepard studied him for a minute and the name seemed to fit, he looked Central American from the looks of him, she had seen hundreds of these men in her time on the beeches of Southern California, though few of them are as portly.
"Whoa who is the pretty lady you've brought with you?"
Abigail felt her head snap back, but she smirked at the compliment nevertheless, finding it somehow endearing. Something I hadn't thought to hear again, at least not in a friendly context.
"Now, now Alberto. We're just here for some of your fine food, not for any entertainment."
Alberto nodded, turning serious, "right two of the usuals then? And your usual booth?"
"Please." Anderson returned the nod.
The booth in question was on a well hidden second floor built into the place's roof. Shepard and Anderson had almost the entire deck to themselves, the room below them was still loud enough to give them reasonable cover for their conversation, but far enough away where they could still communicate.
"So, tell me about yourself, what makes you tick?"
"This isn't a date is it? I mean I know you've read my file and that tells you pretty much all there is to know about me. And there really isn't that much interesting to me outside of there, I mean really, is that the only reason you bailed me out of jail? To 'get to know me better'?" She hoped her emphasis was enough to convey her meaning.
The look which crossed Anderson's face suggested her point hit home. "So, you use innuendo and flirting to deflect away from serious topics of conversation."
She was stunned into silence by the insinuation and her mouth went slack jawed for a moment as her mind worked on a proper rejoinder but it seemed nothing was occurring to her.
The food showing up at that minute gave her all the coverage she needed to forestall the assault from the elder man.
The smell of the food, two hamburgers with all the fixings sans onions, made her stomach lurch one more time. She dove in with the proper gusto consuming the first patty leaving Anderson looking at her as she was licking the last bits of sauce off her fingers.
"What?" She inquired her mouth still at least somewhat full.
She was gratified to see that this time he was at a loss for words, she smirked at her triumph.
"I mean as you just pointed out," she pointed out with a slight purr, "you did just rescue me from prison food." She took a drink from her coffee mug with a reasonable attempt at being demure.
"Just I don't normally see someone attack food with such gusto, though I am sure Alberto will be gratified to see it."
"I mean yes, I tried having reasonable food…but a prison sentence indicates this could be my last good meal, you get used to eating in a hurry when you don't have a home. Also, basic training hardly encouraged proper table manners so in a way I guess this is the Alliance's fault."
"I see," Anderson murmured as she began to work on her second burger, but this time she went with greater care letting him catch up.
"So, what is this about anyways, why did you bail me out? I mean your name sounds familiar, but I know we've never met." She pressed turning serious, her curiosity finally winning out.
"Can't I do you a kindness?"
"You…maybe, you do seem like a descent sort, but knowing the Alliance I am surprised they haven't drawn and quartered me yet. They must have an angle."
Anderson shrugged, "there is a mission…"
Ha knew it.
"But your participation in that mission really is not conducive to your ongoing release and parole. You have been released into my custody Alliance intelligence was doing work up for the mission before I already secured your…temporary…release. Even if there was no mission I would still have advocated for this course of action and there is nothing we need you especially for. But it will help me to determine your fitness for your long-term rehabilitation."
"I see," she chewed the problem over for a moment, "what are the mission parameters?"
"All I can say is it involves our continued efforts to secure the Alliance from Batarian threats to our colonies in the Traverse and our citizens."
She couldn't help but bark a laugh at the mere thought. "I'm surprised."
Anderson furrowed his brow, his expression grew stormy for a moment, "surprised that we'd continue to fight the Batarians, after Elysium, after Mindoir?"
"After what I did," she clarified, "in my experience politicians are pretty gun shy when an event embarrasses them. I am sure the Citadel Council was waging about fifty different types of diplomatic complaints over my actions on Torfan and I am sure they are weary about a repeat."
"We don't just answer to the Citadel Shepard." He commented. Then sighed. "I can't tell you much more without knowing if you are in or not. Granted again if you refuse my offer of amnesty then it's back to prison for you."
It only took a second for her to open her mouth.
"Be aware though if you accept my offer then you will be on a tight leash. No extra curricular activities outside the law, if you do…well not sure what I will be able to do for you then."
She took a moment to finish her burger and coffee, gulping down the last morsel. But in the end, the result was inevitable, "where do I sign up?"