James

"Sir, I don't understand why I've been chosen for this assignment."

Admiral Hackett regarded me calmly, the lighting from the console in front of him casting the scars on his face into sharp relief and sending shivers down my spine. The man was a damned fine leader but shit, did he give me the creeps at times. "Do you believe yourself unfit for the task, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir," I replied quickly, shaking my head. Guarding a prisoner of war was a simple enough task. The problem was who they wanted me to watch. They were teasing me not a month ago about Commander Shepard, and suddenly they were confirming to me that she was indeed actually still alive and on her way to stand trial on Earth. She was going to be high profile, and likely a highly sought after target (assassins and media alike) once her general location becomes known.

Not even taking into account my own wet dreams about the woman, and my personal admiration for her combat skills, I still haven't gotten over losing my people to the damn Collectors and have been considering stepping down from the Alliance. Now I was being slapped with this?

"You'll do fine, Vega," the admiral said, not unkindly, but firmly. "If any trouble arises it'd likely be her protecting your ass, rather than the other way around."

I laughed at that, completely believing it.

"Sir, what is the situation that will require her having a guard?" I asked. "What are the charges?"

"Commander Laryna Shepard is charged with willingly and knowingly cooperating with a known terrorist organization," Hackett replied. "And with the war crime of destroying an entire system by taking out a mass relay, resulting in the loss of over three hundred thousand batarian lives."

What the fuck?!

"And the truth to those charges, sir?"

Admiral Hackett let out a weary sigh. "The Commander did make the decision to work with Cerberus in order to destroy the Collectors." I couldn't help a sharp intake of breath. "That's right, Lieutenant. Roughly a week ago, she successfully lead a team through the Omega 4 Relay and destroyed their base of operations. They will no longer be abducting any more of our colonies." A wave of relief and sense of justice washed through me, easing some of the pain that has corroded the heart in my chest. "Since her victory, Shepard has cut all ties with Cerberus, and as of earlier today has turned herself and the ship that was provided to her over to Admiral Anderson at the Citadel. Anderson is in the process of gathering character witness statements from some of the members of her crew, and will be leaving tomorrow morning with his prisoner on a prearranged transport home. Which is where you come in."

"And the batarians, sir?"

"The situation with the Bahak system isn't black and white," Hackett started slowly. "Yes, I can confirmed that Shepard was there, because I had sent her. One of our operatives, Dr. Amanda Kenson, was taken prisoner by the batarians while she was investigating rumors about the Reapers in their space. As a favor to me, she went in, alone, to extract her. Shepard was successful in saving her from the batarians, and went to confirm what Kenson found. Turns out that my friend fell under the Reaper's influences, but not before she turned a giant asteroid into a massive battering ram to stop their advance. She had activated the engines before Shepard could stop her, than took her own life. The Commander attempted to warn the colony, but communications were faulty. She was barely extracted before the relay was destroyed. There were no other reported survivors."

Holy shit. "And the batarians don't believe that."

"Of course not. They are claiming it was a direct assault against them and are preparing for war."

And our colonies would be the first targets hit. The batarians have been whining about us settling worlds they claimed were to be theirs ever since we started expanding. They've been itching for a chance like this.

"Your assignment may not be an easy one," Hackett continued after a moment. "Cerberus and the Hegemony are out for her blood. Some of our own view her as a traitor. For her own protection, she will be held under constant surveillance in the detention center of HQ in New York. You are to remain with her at all times. Depending on how things go, she may be granted or denied certain freedoms of the base, but regardless of what those may be, you are her escort." He leaned over his console and locked me in his gaze. "Her life is a valuable resource, Vega. She is convinced the Reapers are gearing up for their attack at any time now, and no one knows more about the Reapers than she does. We will need her."

"Sir, wasn't the Reaper threat dismissed by the Council years ago?"

"It was," he confirmed gruffly. "But there are those of us, myself included, that believes her. Who know of her integrity, her honesty, and her commitment. She wouldn't make something like this up, but finding evidence has been difficult. And it would appear we are out of time." He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts, so I take a moment to do the same. It was a lot to absorb. But it still begs the question…

"Why me?"

Pale blue eyes lock on me again, but I hold myself steady. "Because you also believe in her integrity, her honesty, and her commitment. You are also one of the few that have faced the Collectors and lived to tell about it. Who has reportingly upholds similar values. You skill set would also compliment hers." I raised a brow at that one. "I'm hoping you'll stick with her even after she's cleared, Vega. She's going to need a strong team to back her in the upcoming war, and you were Anderson's first pick. I concurred. You know what it's like to make difficult choices, and Shepard has already made several, and likely will have to make more. She needs someone we can trust to help be that kind of support for her."

Another silence fell as I considered his reasons. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I knew, more than likely, if Shepard had been in my shoes, she would have let the data go and saved the colony; she was well known to prioritize lives. Of course, she was also actively hunting our foe, while the rest of us were stumbling in the dark. How was I suppose to know?

"I don't know, sir…"

"I need you on this, Vega. I've already been turned down once for the responsibility."

A little snort escaped me. "I was second choice, huh?"

"Barely," he tried to sound reassuring. "I had offered it to the only other man who met the same conditions as you, and technically he hasn't turned me down yet, but I know he's going to. She'll be here in two days and fourteen hours, Lieutenant. Without your cooperation, and the lack of anyone else I would trust on this, Commander Shepard would be confined to quarters, liked a caged animal instead of the war hero she is. It also makes her an easier target."

Letting out the breath I had been holding, I nodded my consent. "Okay. I accept sir."

Clearly looking pleased, Hackett started typing away at his console. "I'll get all the mission details to you right away, as well as any relevant reports. Be ready for the ride of your life, Vega. Dismissed."

Fidgeting nervously, I waited with the group of Alliance brass and the small escorting squad assigned to see us safely to HQ. There was a crowd that had formed just outside the landing zone, and damn was I glad I didn't have to be one of the people that physically had to hold them all back.

I also wasn't looking forward to the show that was about to be put on.

The unassuming transport landed right on time, and I forced my nerves down. The doors opened almost immediately, and the first person to emerge was Admiral Anderson, looking sharp in his formal blues. And right on his heels was the object of everyone's focus.

The Commander blinked a few times at the sunlight, and my thoughts strayed for a moment as I wondered when the last time she felt the rays of our homeworld. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a N7 hoodie over a black shirt, hair pulled back neatly into a ponytail, worn combat boots coming to rest as she stopped next to Anderson.

"Welcome home, kid," I think I heard him say, and she smiled. I swallowed hard.

"Commander Laryna Shepard," one of the officers said, stepping out of the group I had been waiting in. He pulled a pair of omni-cuffs from his belt, which caused an instant uproar from the watching crowd. "You are under arrest for terrorism and the destruction of the Bahak system. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You are allowed an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you. Do you understand the charges and your rights as I have spoken them to you?"

"Yes," she said clearly, not resisting as the cuffs were snapped over her wrists behind her back. I cringed as I thought about the cameras being snapped, and the video being taken. It had been decided that a public arrest, mostly to appease the batarians, would be best.

I fell into step as she was marched over to a waiting shuttle. There was only one other person inside when the doors open, and Anderson directed Shepard to sit across from whom I was assuming was the lawyer Anderson had hired for her. I sat down next to her.

"Laryna, this is Martha Hope. She'll be assisting with the terrorist charges against you," the admiral said in introduction, and the blonde woman smiled warmly at Shepard, who was quick to return the gesture. "And this is your personal escort while you'll be contained, Lieutenant James Vega."

"I would offer to shake your hands…" Shepard teased, and Anderson chuckled while he opened his omni-tool and released the cuffs. Just like that. She deftly slipped them off and tossed them towards one of the guards that were sitting next to the doors, then proceeded to shake our hands. Her grip was firm and warm. "It's a pleasure," she grinned at me.

"Likewise, Commander."

I sat quietly as the three of them started going over paperwork for Ms. Hope to formally take on the job. The Commander was polite, and positive, and if I wasn't mistaken, very sad. A sadness that I don't think had anything to do with the charges against her, and I knew they wouldn't get into that while I was present.

It took about forty minutes to make it through the city, and nearly another twenty to make it through the check points. Her lawyer left us at the first check point, promising to check in to start fact checking the next morning. We finally cleared the fourth check point and the shuttle was eased down in front of the detention center. I carefully looked around the blissfully silent area, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary, and waved them out when I was sure it was clear.

The first thing they did when we entered was be taken to a med-bay. There they installed a biotic suppressor over her amp, the item a bit bulky and especially obvious with her hair pulled up. Then they had her pull up her omni-tool, and she granted them access to place in the required blocks and tracking software. She had a predetermined allowed list of people she could correspond with, no extranet access, no recording capabilities allowed, and only simple programs.

Then my own omni-tool was updated with the access codes to remove the blocks and the restrictions in case of an emergency, as well as Anderson's.

Shepard then was instructed to strip down completely, underwear and all, as I watched red faced. The medical examiners took extensive scans and a few blood samples, all the while asking questions, to which she attempted to answer as best she could, but it was clear that all the crazy stuff that was done to her was way above her head.

The scans didn't make much sense to me, either, but she looked nearly half robot.

She was finally given some Alliance civvies to dress in, with a soft pair of sneakers, to which she frowned at. The pout was so damn cute I chuckled, and she rolled her green eyes at me.

Finally we were lead to the confinement area we were assigned. It was more or less a small studio, with two twin sized beds tucked away in the corner, hidden behind a stand alone divide, a kitchenette, a round dining table with four chairs, a couple dressers, and an attached bathroom. There weren't to many rooms like this one, but I approved that Shepard was granted its use, especially since it would make me more comfortable as well.

Admiral Anderson left us then, with the promise to be back in the morning to attend Shepard's first legal console.

Shepard slowly entered the room, looking around. The fridge was stocked, mostly with the basics, the dressers with several changes of the same outfit she was wearing now, and she went through everything with a detached look on her face.

"I huh...heard you like to cook," I muttered. "I was told I can put in the request for whatever kind of groceries you may want."

"Thanks. I'll make a list and get back to you. And look at that. It is way past lunchtime," Shepard stated thoughtfully, going back to the fridge. I stood and watched as she went about pulling everything out for sandwiches. I had to quickly snap my attention to the ceiling when I realized my eyes were locked on the soft curve of her ass. "Would you like one, James?"

"No ma'am. I mean, yes ma'am! Oh man…"

She let out a pleasant laugh. "You can just call me Laryna, Lt. And you don't have to be all formal on me. Who knows how long we'll be stuck in this room together?"

"Yeah…" I agreed, and went silent as I watched her expertly whip together a couple club sandwiches. She takes both plates to the table and sits, gesturing towards another chair. "I'm sure you have questions for me. Up for a game of twenty questions?"

I sat down and picked up a wedge, taking a hearty bite. "I enjoy playing games."

Laryna

Oddly, dealing with my terrorist charges proven to be fairly easy to get brushed aside.

Martha was a very passionate speaker, and a long time friend of Anderson's, and apparently a fan of mine, so when she spun a long argument about my past achievements and romanticized my time with Cerberus, people listened. Anderson and Hackett both gave testimony in regards to how I always reported when asked, and kept nothing secret.

The recorded testimony from Garrus and Tali about their time serving under me for my Cerberus sponsored mission had made my gut clench, and I've only been separated from them for less than a week. My guard, James Vega, had also stood up to give credit to the Collector threat. And, much to my surprise, Kaidan also reports about his experience at Horizon.

His words worked to my benefit; Ms. Hope kept him to just facts, nothing opinionated, and Kaidan had a look of mild disgust the entire time he was up there, and refused to look my way while he spoke. He talked about his assignment to assist the colony against the possible fate that had fallen others in the Terminus Systems, wither it be from some unknown force or from Cerberus, how it came under attack, and how he himself had been frozen, unable to help. I hadn't thought about that, but it made sense. I had been to hyper aware of his person and the fact he was safe to wonder what he personally went through at the time.

I had Mordin and Garrus with me at on the ground for that mission, too, giving credibility to my freedom in handling the mission under my own power. So why does he look like he was betraying himself by casting me in a positive light?

Has Kaidan really come to distrust me so?

I was given the chance to speak for myself, as well. I reported nearly everything, speaking for most of the afternoon. I started as I had with the Council, with my death, quickly followed by waking up on an operation table. My own witness to Freedom's Progress, which was more than enough to trigger my seeded desire to protect. I spoke of my compromise with the Council; they allowed me to remain a Spectre and have free reign to do what I must as long as I did so as quietly as possible. Which I was...mostly...successful at doing.

I went over my chat with Anderson immediately afterwards, and his confirmation that the Alliance were trying to do what they could, but it was proving to be damn little, and they would not be able to support me in pursuing the Collectors.

Talking about my team was the best yet most difficult part. Admitting that the dossiers I was given in forming my squad was done to appeal to my morals and willingness to work with aliens, but I had turned it around and every single one of them were mine. As was the crew, in the end.

I openly spoke of the several occasions where the Illusive Man flat out lied and endangered my renewed life, and those of my team. I told the Board everything but the more personal undertakings I went through for my people. Those were memories between family, not for a court room.

In the end, I was discharged from the Alliance, formally, but would not be punished further if the information I provided was verified to be true. It was meaningless; I have more power as a Spectre than I ever did as a Commander, and again it was more to send a message than anything else. The only real backlash was the limited access it gave me to High Command, and the civilian ranking left me very little freedom to move about the building. I was to remain in custody pending further investigations and for the duration of my trial with the batarians. James was given very specific routes he had to take me through to reach the few places I was allowed to go, like the gym.

There wasn't much for me to do while the Alliance set up communications with the batarians so we could start banging our heads against the wall there. I had spoken to both Anderson and Hackett about my fear about the rest of batarian space soon being under attack, and I've been force to admit to myself that they will never listen to me about the Reapers, and the batarians going silent was more or less the signal that will mark the start of the Reaper's invasion. All we really had to do in the meantime was argue back and forth until that time, unless Miri and Liara were able to arise any awareness, which was very unlikely.

Until those communications started, all I could do was take advantage of having regular access to Earth ingredients, exercise pointlessly, and tease my new guard endlessly.

It was obvious from day one that James had no idea what to make of me. I could tell he was a fanboy, one of many that has held me up on a higher plane than the rest, likely followed my career and used me as a means to aspire his own decisions. So I enjoyed showing him that I was nothing but human, making him turkey sandwiches and talking about mundane things more often than I shared any war stories.

First thing I did was catch him up on what was coming.

The benefit of him being a fanboy; he didn't doubt me. It likely helped that Anderson and Hackett had briefed him before this, but I knew the significance of hearing something from the source. And I was the single most knowledgeable person about the Reapers, like it or not. It also helped that he had his own run in with the Collectors, and anyone who has been inside one of their ships would agree that their technology was crazy different than our own.

I'm not a fool. I know there was a reason as to why my superiors had decided, out of the thousands of possible candidates, to land this soldier in my lap. From what little I had heard during my hearing with High Command in regards to my terrorism charges, James was serving at a post in a colony that was hit, but without having my clearances to look at his records, I couldn't look up anything more and my bosses were far to busy doing what they could in preparation in what we knew was coming to answer personal questions like that for me.

So the next time we were down at the gym, I watched him silently for a few long minutes as he worked on pull ups. It was hard not to admire his physic. He was broad in the shoulders and chest, well corded with muscle under brown skin. Thick arms and legs, and sporting a surprisingly narrow waist for a man his size. Well placed tattoos peeked from under his to tight tee shirt, emphasizing the bulge of his shoulders and strength of his neck.

It was funny that I spend each night sleeping right next to a man exactly like what my turian lover had feared I could be possibly swayed by while we were separated. I grinned at the image of the two of them meeting someday.

Hopefully.

I walked over, finding myself in the unusual circumstance of not knowing how to break the ice on the topic I wanted to speak about. Reading people, especially humans, was something I excelled at. Chatting? Pfft, natural and easy. Knowing the topic was personal, painful, and could result in temporary resentment? Child's play.

Maybe it was because he hasn't volunteered any information himself yet. Or that I wasn't his commanding officer. I rarely would have to actively seek out information from people, but James has remained tight lipped about himself so far.

"You come over here for something, or you just lookin?" James asked, breaking into my thoughts.

I snorted, appreciating the playful banter. "I did just come to chat, but I might stay for the show." And I made a little play of leaning up against the wall and giving him a full appraisal. In love with a wonderful man or not, he was damn fine to admire.

James smirked, bringing the scar that ran off his lip and down the right side of his chin into relief. It suited him. "Have to work harder than that if you want me to blush," he quips. He does a few more pull ups. "Not sure what there is to talk about. You already know my service record."

"I don't, actually," I replied, pleased at the perfect opening. "I don't have access to personnel records right now."

"Right…" he muttered, releasing his grip on the bar. "Forgot about that. Well… think you can dance and talk at the same time?"

A spar? "Oh, I can dance," I replied back eagerly. I move off towards the thick mats in the center of the room.

"Okay Lola…" James chuckled, rolling his neck as he followed me. "Let's do this."

A familiar excitement filled my body as I brought up my hands in loose fists; if it weren't for the blocker on my amp, I'd likely be buzzing with biotic energy. I flashed him a sly grin. "Don't let my good looks fool you, Vega. I've got my share of scars." And I came at him with a few jabs.

James easily blocks them, a grin of his own easing the previous tension on his face, making him look more his age. "Ha! You remind me of my old CO."

He came at me with a few jabs of his own, testing my reaction time. I flowed around his attacks, easily counterattacking. "Oh yeah, and who was that?" I managed to get a tap on his chin. James shook it off.

"Captain Toni," he replied. "He was a hard-assed son of a bitch, but a good leader." I came in fast while he spoke, landing a fist on his broad nose, causing it to start bleeding slightly, before dancing on my toes away again. James allows the blood to drip into his trimmed beard, and smirked. "Nice." He counters, and I dodge the first but my shoulder was clipped by the follow up.

We squared off again. "What do you mean 'was?'" I asked.

"Died," James answers, easing to my left, and I side stepped in response, causing us to move in a slow circle. "With most of my squad," he continued, and I could see his muscles ripple as he tensed. "Protecting a civilian colony from a Collector attack." He lashes out for a head shot, and I barely managed to avoid it.

"And the colony?" I pushed.

His fingers flexed into tighter fists. "It was either them...or the intel we had on the Collectors," and he strikes again, faster than before, and his knuckles graze my chin as I failed to withdraw far enough away completely. "Intel we could've used to destroy them." Heave blows from both directions, and all I could do was braced my arms to absorb their power, though I avoided another attempt at my face. His voice was getting harder, underscored with the agony of the choice he made. Our eyes locked, green to brown. "I chose the intel."

I leaped backwards, dancing out of reach of a powerful blow. I worked carefully to keep the pity and judgment off my face as I raised my hands again. "Sorry. That's a tough call." We slowly started circling each other again.

James let out a small, sad snort. "The best part was we didn't really need the intel in the end…" He paused in his movements as his eyes got hard. "Because you were out saving the galaxy by taking down the entire Collector homeworld." And he darts in, raining down jabs and heavy punches. I go on the defensive as I allowed his words to sink in, accepting my part in the pain he had to go through, likely sacrificing thousands of lives in the hopes of being able to save more in the long run.

"You didn't know," I breathed, retreating a few steps from his onslaught. "You can't blame yourself, Vega."

"Who says I'm blaming myself?" he demanded.

Quick as I could, I weaved around his reach and landed two strikes, one on each cheek, forcing him to stumble back and cease his push. "I do," I growled.

"You a shrink, too?"

"No," I stated, moving back in. "It doesn't take a doctor to see that you're struggling. Losing people sucks, no matter the reason, no matter the cause."

"So?" James snaps.

I throw a hard left punch, which he takes on his forearm with a grunt. "So...maybe the guilt is leaving you not caring if you live or die."

"Or maybe…" and he starts pushing hard again, one well placed blow forcing most of the air out of my lungs. "I was just willing to do whatever it took to do my goddamned job!" I twist with an attempt at a hard blow, bending my knees as I wrapped my fingers around his biceps, and used his own momentum to flip him so he landed hard on his side.

"Maybe you are," I agreed. "But if you're half as good as I think you are...I'm going to need you focused. War is coming. Possibly with the batarians but definitely with the Reapers."

James rolled over until he was sitting, his head bowed. "What do you know?"

His pain tore at my chest; he obviously lost more than just a colony to the Collectors. He lost a future. It was itched into every defeated line of his hunched bulk. "Because the charges against me are true," I choked out. James looked up in surprise at me. "The story we've been telling, it's just a cover. The Project was originally Kenson's, but her indoctrination prevented her from seeing it through on her own. When I was taken captive and lost what little time there was to act...I started the engines with less than two hours left to go. She tried to stop me, even blew herself up in her attempt. I nearly died with them; sometimes I wish I had." I held up my chin defiantly. "I willingly sacrificed hundreds of thousands of lives just to buy some time. Time that likely will be wasted regardless." I slapped a hand to my chest. "I left my fiance to be here and try to stop this war and make one last ditch effort to prepare Earth for the Reapers. So don't sit there acting like you are the only one who has made the hard choices and had them backfire, nearly losing everything in the process!"

"Shit, Laryna…" James gasped, burying his head in his large hands. Silence fell as we both brought our breathing and our emotions under control. Finally he got to his feet, and gave me a small nod. "Thanks for the pep talk."

I nodded back. "Anytime." I didn't demand he keep my secret our admirals had insisted upon. It was his to do with as he pleased. If he kept it, I knew I had an ally that understood. If he didn't, I would properly pay for the choices I made, and I was okay with that. I'd have to make sure, before I'm actually locked up, about the danger his life would be in through from a certain turian vigilante.

"Hey," James said as I turned away, and I looked back over my shoulder at him. "Thanks for the dance, Lola."

"Lola, huh?" I smirked.

He shrugged. "You kind of look like a Lola."

I laughed. "You're cute...so I'll let you get away with it. For now."

James grinned back, and I knew he'd be okay. "That's it...now you made me blush."

Kaidan

I didn't know what to think anymore.

The woman I had admired, respected, and even loved more than anybody else in the galaxy was here, sitting on the other side of the small library kept in the detention center off of HQ, laughing and smiling like she hadn't brought the skies themselves down around my feet. And here I was, watching her from in between the cracks in the old, polished wooden bookshelves, like a high school boy lusting over the most popular girl on the soccer team.

At least some of the story being woven about her time with Cerberus was a cover up. There is no way that in the last three years, she hadn't done something harmful for them against other people. I couldn't even bring myself to believe she was comatose during most of that time, though medical reports complied by our own doctors does support the possibility.

Though, if I'm completely honest with myself, the news Anderson let slip that Laryna was engaged now...that hurt the worse. The thought of her finding comfort in the arms of a terrorist, after I had reached out in offer to reconnect after Horizon….

I poured through the reports she had given to the Alliance about her time chasing down the destruction of the Collectors. Part of me wishes I had taken up Hackett's offer to be her guard, so I could just question her directly without obstruction, but I knew I couldn't trust myself to be alone with her. I couldn't risk my career in a moment of weakness, wither if it took me in the direction of lust or hatred. Best to just not take that chance.

But I had to know who holds her heart now.

I knew the reports were incomplete after the first read through. During our time chasing after Saren, Laryna had still taken the time to perform side quests for her team if something came up. And something always comes up. Yet, there isn't a single mention of her doing anything for the large team she had collected for her mission.

I made a note to bring that to the Board's attention.

The second thing I noticed was that the reports, while well written and detailed, did not follow Laryna's writing style. They likely were written by someone else. Looking over the rooster, I figured her XO, a Cerberus operative by the name Miranda Lawson, was the likely author.

In the end, though, the briefs were too professional to suggest the information I really wanted to know right now. So I did the only other thing I could think of, since going to the source was out of the question.

I messaged Tali.

We haven't spoken in well over a year; several months before she apparently joined Laryna again in her mission. I had always liked the quiet quarian. If anyone would be willing to speak with me about more personal matters that occurred on the new Normandy, it would be her.

She set up a vid call for later that night, and I waited impatiently for the call to come through.

"Kaidan Alenko," Tali greeted when I eagerly answered her call as soon as it popped up on my omni-tool. "It's been awhile! How are you?"

I tried not to cringe at the pleasantries. "Not bad. Mildly wrapped up in Laryna's trial and waiting for my next set of orders from Hackett about defensive prep against the Reapers. And, huh, you? Did you come through the mission alright?"

"Oh, you know, a little toasty, but the resulting fevers have already gone down and I'll be right as can be in another day or two." She leans closer to the camera. "You said you've seen Laryna? How is she?"

"Holding up surprisingly well," I replied. "The news should be hitting the public soon in another day or two. She's been dismissed completely from the Alliance at this time pending investigation into her claims she made while on the stand. Anderson is holding out on a complete dismissal on all her Cerberus related charges, and a full reinstatement."

"I'm sure they'll make the right choice after they see for themselves," Tali stated firmly.

"Right," I muttered. There was no doubt we'd need her for the impending war against the Reapers, but I wasn't sure if it was wise to have her in a position of authority in the Alliance. Not that I would admit that aloud to one of her closest allies. "Listen, Tali, the reason I wanted to talk was something Laryna mentioned in passing to Anderson, about being engaged?"

A full minute of silence passed. "What?!" Tali screeched. "Oh, those bosh'tets! And they claim to be my best friends?" Her glowing eyes narrowed in on me, and I couldn't help but shrink back from the screen. "I'll talk to you later, Kaidan. There's one ass I still have access too that I can go kick." And the call ended.

Well, that didn't go quite as I was expecting. But the list of who she would consider her best friends on Laryna's team, assuming she hasn't changed much, was extremely small.

Of them, only one was male.

Jack

I was leaning against the wall on top of the borrowed cot Mordin gave me to sleep on, actually fucking practicing the meditations that I learned with Samara and Laryna, when my omni-tool started going off. My eyes flew open and I barely got my biotics under control before they exploded outwards. I sighed, knowing my aura was still to powerful for the levels of proper calm Samara kept insisting I needed to reach.

Flicking my wrist, I activated my omni-tool and accepted the call. "What the fuck do you want?" I demanded.

There was a pause on the other end. "I'm looking to speak with a Jacqueline Nought," a female voice said on the other end.

"Who's askin?"

"My name is First Lieutenant Kahlee Sanders of the Alliance, Head of Grissom Academy. We met briefly when Commander Shepard brought over David Archer for treatment and further education? I was hoping for a moment of your time."

I sneered at the ceiling. "How the hell did you get my number?"

"Word of mouth. The Commander gave it to Admiral Anderson who passed it along to me."

"Why would she do that?"

"From my request passed in a similar fashion. It's a little more slow going when the Commander doesn't have a means to be contacted directly."

"And what the hell do you want with me?" I demanded. "I don't have any beef with the Alliance."

"No, surprisingly, you do not," the voice quipped, and I rolled my eyes. "Listen, Ms. Nought…"

"Jack."

"Listen Jack, my students have been talking about the displays you and the other biotics with the Commander put on for us during your visit. I was hoping, if you have no other commitments at this time with the success completion of your mission, if you'd be interested in a teaching position here."

I burst out laughing. For a good solid five minutes.

"Aww man, I really needed that," I wheezed, wiping some moisture from my eyes. "Tell Laryna I said good joke, and I look forward to putting her down on her ass the next time I get to see her, which better be sooner rather than later!"

The woman sighed. "I can pass along the message, but it's impact will likely get lost in translation. It's a serious offer, Jack. David...Admiral Anderson has told me extensively of the threat that will soon be upon us all. My school has some of the best and the brightest minds and born biotics that humanity has to offer, and if they were thrown into combat right now, they would all be slaughtered. Your experience with your recent mission under Commander Shepard, if shared with my students, could very well mean the difference between life and death for them."

"What exactly are you asking of me, teach?" I asked after a heavy moment.

"Come be a combat specialist instructor. Teach my kids how to properly use their biotics against the foes that will soon be here. I saw how powerful you are when you were here, you can easily take anything they throw at you, so we should be able to progress rapidly in their lessons. You'll be given a salary, of course, and private quarters while you're here, full benefits…"

"I don't care about fucking benefits," I moaned. I buried my face into my hands, fingertips rubbing at my temples. "Shit, am I really considering this…?" I muttered at myself.

"Take the day, think about it. Get back to me at this number once you've made up your mind, or if you have any other questions."

"Yeah...okay," I agreed, and ended the call without further ado. I jumped out of my cot and started pacing the floor, feeling my biotics dance up and down my arms. I knew anyone watching me would be assuming I was losing my control over them, but a lack of control has never been an issue for me. Not for years. I just felt better when they were active; it made me feel ready. Would that scare the little shits at the school? Probably.

This was crazy. I can't teach. Teenagers were extremely different than showing Laryna, a seasoned fighter, a few tricks. She already had a strong grasp on what she was doing. I have no idea how I would go about correcting someone who had no control, or clue, as to what they were doing.

My feet dragged me downstairs, and I emerged into the lobby of the clinic that Mordin used to run. One of the assistants at the front desk gave me a tentative nod, quickly diverting their eyes. I snorted and walked deeper into the clinic, hunting the mad scientist.

The man in question was busy wrapping gauze around a batarian's arm, chatting the entire time about proper care until they could secure for him a skin graft. All four of the eyes were narrowed in agitation, a snarl on his thin, puffy lips.

Pretty sure it was a permanent fixture to any one of their people.

"Need something?" Mordin asked as he stepped aside to allow his patient to walk out.

"Our crazy ass leader somehow managed to set me up with a fucking teaching gig," I replied, hopping on top of one of the many crates that littered the room.

"Ah," he replied, a smile splitting his face. "Noble goal. Always loved teaching myself. Almost as much as clinic work. Exploring new, bright minds. Sharping skills. Passing along personal knowledge. When do you leave?"

"I don't," I growled. "I haven't accepted. What's the point? I'd be fucking horrible at it."

"Nonsense," Mordin quickly disagreed. "Taught Laryna. Personal improvement since working with Samara. Unique experiences worth passing on. Work helps focus."

"Yeah, what are you planning on doing, then?" I challenged.

"Recently came across some shocking news while passing along Reaper information to STG," he answered as he darted about the room putting stuff away. "Tied closely with personal work. Plan to investigate. Act accordingly. Hopefully...will make Laryna proud. Correct pass assumptions, set a new path worthy of the future."

I regarded him a long moment, puzzling over his words. "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, but it sounds like you have a plan."

Mordin nodded. "Leaving soon. Rented small ship. Could give you a ride?"

"Fuck…" I sighed, banging the back of my head slightly as I collapsed backwards across the crate I was perched on. "Let me think about it, and I'll give you an answer in the morning."

"Good. Speak then. Need to hit up the markets before departure. Need anything?"

"That noodle place still open nearby? The one we went to the last time we were here?"

"Unknown. Usual order?"

"Fuck, yes."

Mordin chuckled. "I'll get some dumplings, too. To celebrate your new position. Return shortly."

I scowled at his retreating back. Damn, know-it-all, assuming, self important salarian. I slapped a hand to my forehead. Who the fuck am I kidding? Of course I'll take the damn job. Got nothing better to do until the Reapers get here.

Fuck you, Laryna, for almost making me a damn decent person.