Mass Effect 1

Night and Day: From Akuze to Earth and Back Again

Chapter 10 – Armstrong Nebula III

The medical bay was empty when she arrived early for her appointment with Doctor Chakwas. Rather than stay in the cold, sterile room, she went back out to wait in the mess. Her gaze settled on the little model of the Normandy. She loved the sleek lines of the ship, the way it looked like both a bird, or an insect and also neither of those things. The drybrush technique that she and Shepard had used had picked out all the little details of the plates, making the finish look far more complicated to achieve than it really had been. She moved closer to examine it and noticed that the little craft now had a splatter of something red on it as if someone had been a little bit clumsy with their packet of bolognese. She dabbed at the stain with the pad of her thumb, and it came away easily. She was pleased to see that the acidity of whatever it was, hadn't damaged the paintwork. She replaced the model and angled it carefully for the best visual effect. Bored again, she began to bounce restlessly on the balls of her feet, her hands went to her pocket, and she pulled out Shepard's coin.

She looked at it closely and decided it was time to try again. If she flipped it and it landed on the head of the emperor, she'd do her duty by the alliance. She would continue to avoid Shepard as best as she could, focussing on professionalism, duty, and honour. If it landed on the warrior, she'd check in on the commander, maybe talk to her about the new armour from Kassa Fabrication. Ashley continued to toy with the coin, leaning against a bench, her gaze somewhere off in the middle distance. She looked over at the med bay doors, Chawkas didn't seem to be in a hurry to arrive. With a determination she did not feel, she made her way to the observation deck. It was another communal area, one less dedicated to food and more to recreational activities. It was always untidy. In a ship that relied heavily on shared accommodation and multipurpose spaces, this was a place that everyone felt at home. There were lots of little storage nooks that people on board had laid claim too; family photographs, knickknacks, favourite coffee mugs, datapads, gameboards, all made their way here eventually. Someone had even brought in a blanket and some cushions to further break up the shiny new industrialism that the original designers had intended. Ashley was pleasantly surprised to find the room empty. There was no prayer room onboard the Normandy, most colonies didn't even have one, but of all the spaces on the ship, this one gave her the most peace.

She dimmed the lights to better admire the view. They were drifting at the edge of the Armstrong cluster and the massive window at this moment was filled with colour. Blues and red gasses boiled and spun through space, the pinpricks of distant stars added to the whole and this nebular looked like an artist's impression of a beach: a long line of blue reflection breaking against red sands of hydrogen gas, in turn washing up the shiny white stars. Not for the first time she wondered how people could look at this galaxy and not believe in something. Ashley prayed everyday as a method of reflection, a way of mentally summarising what had taken place. She found that placing faith in a higher power was freeing, praying was at least doing something, and that was helpful in moments of powerlessness. Ashley had felt powerless a lot. Being ridiculed by so many of her superiors, being made to grind through the worst assignments, never once being trusted to make a decision that mattered… yeah, she knew that feeling well. The one time she was given the chance to prove herself, she'd gotten everyone in her squad killed. She was not one to ask for things from her god lightly. But it was nice to trust in something bigger than herself, especially for decisions that mattered. So, if she was to go somewhere quiet to reflect, and if she were to flip a coin in that moment of reflection, and if her God were to intervene then that would be something, and if He, in his wisdom, decided to leave the decision to chance, then that would be something, too.

The coin was hot in her hand.

She balanced it on her thumb which she tucked into the crook of her finger, tensed for a second and flicked. The coin spun quickly in the air before landing in her palm.

She found Shepard in the comms room. The light on the door was green and Ashley found herself strolling in with a preprepared question about armour preferences ready to go. Shepard looked backwards over her shoulder, and seeing it was Ashley, waved her in. Shepard's voice was muffled but she recognised the voice of Hannah Shepard through the speakers.

"OK, Moon child. We'll talk again soon."

Shepard signed off and turned smiling to greet Ash who smiled back, all questions about the comparative merits of damage protection and shielding were gone and instead, still beaming, she found herself mockingly asking about what she'd just overheard.

"Shit, Shepard. Your name is Moon?"

If she could have sucked her words back in and swallowed them, she would have, instead she watched with eyes wide in horror as Shepard's face crumpled into a disappointed frown. The woman who had looked so happy and open mere seconds ago seemed to shrink before her. Her head bowed and shoulders slumped. Ashley felt that familiar prickle of warm heat creep over her, her skull tingled, trapped in self-loathing, goddam foot in mouth. When will I ever learn to just shut up?

Shepard was still looking down at her feet. Her arms crossed over her chest, and she flopped back to lean away from Ash and against the console behind her.

"Moon. It's Moon actually."

"What?" Ashley couldn't get a handle on the exchange. She was still drowning in self-recrimination but was fairly sure she was missing some crucial information that would help her make sense of what was being said.

Shepard stood up slightly straighter, sighed and made eye contact with Ash at last.

"Turn off your translator." Shepard was using her commanding voice and Ashley didn't question the order, she simply opened her omni-tool and keyed in the appropriate instructions.

She dropped her wrist and looked at the commander expectantly. Shepard returned the look, with one eyebrow slightly raised. Ashley still felt uncomfortably warm. She had upset her friend and didn't yet know if she could repair the damage, so she had no choice but to wait, to listen.

"Marama. My name is Marama," Shepard said, quietly.

Marama? The name sounded strange. Foreign. Impossible that this was the first time Ashley had heard it spoken. The name 'Shepard' fit her commanding officer like a well-worn glove, but 'Marama' was something else entirely. For reasons she couldn't quite explain, it made her feel uncomfortable. Perhaps because she had never made the effort to find out Shepard's real name. The thought came unbidden, even as it occurred to her that the woman had been going to great pains to hide it. Shepard shifted into a more comfortable position. She was still leaning back and away, but now one ankle crossed over in front of the other, her exposed forearm muscles clenched and relaxed drawing Ash's eye to the bronzed skin.

Shepard caught her eye from beneath long, black eyelashes as she continued, "It's just that using the translators mean that no one hears it that way. You know how much crap I got from the other recruits? That's why I'm just Shepard."

Ashley took time to digest this. She allowed herself to look over the woman standing before her, she was still leaning in a position that tried to look relaxed but was also clearly defensive. Her narrow waist and finely muscled torso widened at the shoulders, which were still too hunched for Ashley's liking. Her sharply ironed Alliance shirt wasn't sitting quite right on top of what must have been heavy bandages. Ash felt herself swallow uncomfortably. She flicked her eyes up and met Shepard's large brown ones. They shared a moment before Ashley broke away to look over the sharp line of Shepard's jaw, and her curly mop of short, black hair which was cut close on one side in her trademark style: an artistic and very feminine variation on ancient military haircuts from Earth. She felt like she was really seeing this woman for the first time. And Shepard was watching her while she looked. The expression on her face was inscrutable.

Shepard shifted her weight, a muscle in her jaw flickered as she clenched and then unclenched her teeth. It was clear that she was as uncomfortable as Ash was. She knew Shepard was waiting for her to break the silence, but Ash was reluctant to say anything, lest she do any more damage. Finally, she settled on words that she hoped would be as harmless as they were meaningless: "It suits you."

Shepard grunted and ran a hand over the back of her head before settling into a new position. There was a fresh awkwardness between them now. A newness. It was as uncomfortable as recently healed skin. It occurred to Ashley that she didn't really know much about this woman at all.

"Why doesn't every name get translated like that?" Ashley asked, suddenly curious about the particulars.

"Well, what does 'Ashley' mean? What would you expect it to translate to?" Shepard asked, not unkindly.

"I don't just mean like that. When we met Rear Admiral Kahoku, you said his name meant 'Star', but my translator didn't mess up his name." Ashley's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She didn't expect an answer, but she asked the question anyway: "What's the difference?"

She looked up from the floor tile she had been staring at intently, to find Shepard smiling at her. "You're quick." Shepard's face became serious. "The difference is that ōlelo Hawaiʻi is a protected language under the Systems Alliance, and te reo Māori is not." She paused, checking to see if Ashley was actually interested, or just being polite. Whatever she saw encouraged her enough to go on. "Language is complicated. Humans have thousands of languages which all have different dialects and accents, homonyms complicate things further. Aliens are the same. High turian and low turian is the least of it. Most people upgrade their software package only as they need it, and almost no one will download human languages that don't come as standard with the System Alliance Language package unless they are visiting Earth." Ashley nearly interrupted with a question, but it was as if Shepard couldn't stop. "So, what you get is a paired down version of all human languages. The package doesn't have the nuance to separate words from names unless they belong to one of the protected languages." Shepard took a breath in, and looked away, "My mum changed her name to Hannah. The translator kept calling her 'glowing radiance'," she finished, chuckling ruefully.

"What's her real name?"

"Hana," Shepard replied, softly. "She had it easy. A slight vowel change, and the jokes stop. No easy fix for a name like Marama." She paused, frowned darkly and in her deepest, most rumbling voice said, "And I'm not your ma, so don't even think of shortening it."

She looked so riled up, that Ashley wasn't tempted to make light of it.

"Do you want me to call you Marama?"

Shepard didn't reply right away. She chewed thoughtfully on her lip for a moment then looked up at Ash. "I don't mind it from you. But no, call me Shepard, or Skipper if you must." They both grinned at that. "I don't need this crew thinking my name is Moon. Can you even imagine what Wrex would do with that information?"

They walked into the Mess together, Joker was just tidying away his tray. When he saw them, his face broke into a smile.

"Woah-ho, Ashley! Does this mean that magic coin of yours finally landed on tails? Good for you. Well, I promised Garrus I'd take away all his credits. We're playing Skillian Five. If you two would like to join us, we'll be on the observation deck. Race ya."

He shuffled his way out and Shepard busied herself with the coffee machine. Ashley blushed bright red at hearing Joker's tactless stream of consciousness and her embarrassment only increased when he leaned back through the doorway and gave her an open-mouthed smile and an encouraging thumbs up. She visibly bristled, which made him laugh.

Shepard, who either ignored the exchange or hadn't noticed it, bent down to find some cups and hissed as she sucked in air through her teeth. She must have moved too quickly and hurt herself, and Ashley silently berated herself for not paying attention. She had seen the reports, she'd seen the armour, she could guess how much pain Shepard was feeling. Ashley went to Shepard's side, and then stopped not knowing what to say or how to behave. It was Shepard who broke the silence.

"What was Joker talking about?" Shepard clutched her chest with one arm while preparing the coffee with her free hand. Her normally light brown skin had taken on a pallid hue. "When did it become a magic coin?"

For the second time that afternoon, Ashley felt her face prickle with embarrassment.

"Oh, you know Joker," she tried. "I don't understand half the things he says."

Shepard eyed Ashley carefully, but Ashley found herself unable to return the look. She looked down at her shoes before noticing a patch of dried paint on her shirt. She scratched at it with her fingernails, trying to separate the paint from the fabric's blue fibres. She could feel Shepard's intense gaze switching between her face and her hands. Finally, Shepard grunted quietly and handed Ashley a steaming mug of black coffee before picking up her own. Ashley, relieved, took the cup and added a careful measure of milk. She let out a contented sigh.

"Chakwas says you are cleared for duty," Shepard said. "It would be good to have you and Kaidan on the ground for this next one. It could be big. Do you think you are ready?" It was true. Her appointment with the doctor had gone very well. She was pretty much healed and cleared for battle. It was amazing what could be achieved with modern medical science and PT.

"How big?" Ashley felt her excitement build at the prospect of finally going topside.

"Very. We think we've traced the signal to the Grissom system. If the intel is right, it's where the main base of operations will be. Given what we have seen already, it could be tough down there. Speed will be everything because they'll know we are coming, and we can't afford to wait for them to build up strength and fortify their position. I just…"

The silence built between them, and Ashley felt it as if it were a physical presence. She felt for Shepard's coin and began rubbing her thumb back and forwards across the almost smooth surface. She raised her eyebrow as she looked at her commander, wordlessly willing the woman to speak.

Shepard looked down at the coin in Ashley's hand.

"I just wish I could be there," she finished, finally.

Ashley heard the truth behind the words. Here was a person who would never be content to sit behind the safety of a desk and give orders that would put others at risk. If there was a fight to be won, or a point to be scored, she would be there making sure the job was done in the only way she knew how: from the front. Ashley eyed the woman beside her.

"What did Joker mean about the coin. Are you ready to be honest with me yet?"

Ashley nearly choked on her coffee. She looked around the tiny galley kitchen, her eyes skirting over the common kitchen appliances, the little Normandy model, the off-white surfaces, the grey wall panelling, the two dirty coffee cups and table knife that some asshole (probably Addison) had left in the sink (despite the dishwasher being right there). Finally, her eyes settled on the exit, her brain ticked over, and she began calculating her chances of escape.

She was brought back to reality when Shepard chuckled.

"Ash? Are you ok?" Shepard looked at her with twinkling brown eyes. The crinkled corner of her eyes and upturned smile betrayed the commander's distinct lack of concern. "You looked a little panicky for a second there." In that moment Ashley knew that Shepard could read her mind. Shepard knew that rather than face her fear like a grown up, that Ashley had been leaving decisions to the fateful toss of a coin.

Ashley took a deep breath. If they were going to be honest with each other, she might as well go all in. "Do you believe in God?" Shepard's eyebrows crinkled giving Ashley all the answer she needed. "OK, so that's a 'no'. It's not a problem with you, is it? That I believe in God?"

It was Shepard's turn to look uncomfortable. Ashley worried that she'd miscalculated in taking such a direct approach, but this was too much a part of who she was. It was her culture down to her bones. Her Brazilian grandparents had been staunchly Catholic, her parents had passed the traditions on to all the Williams girls, not an easy thing to do away from earth but it became something that grounded them and brought them together, especially in times of strife.

"Everyone has the right to believe what they want. Says so in the Alliance Charter. Only with fancier words."

"I'm glad you're open-minded about it. I've met a few people who were really weirded out. Because I work in space I can't believe in a higher power? How can you look at this galaxy and not believe in something?" She took a breath to steady herself, knowing she had managed to get herself more worked up than she'd intended. When she looked shyly across at Shepard, the skipper grinned back at her.

They drank their coffee in comfortable silence, the ever-present hum of the Normandy's engines was just audible over the other sounds of people talking in the spaces beyond the galley, the ticking of coolant in pipes and other machine noises that Ashley had more trouble identifying. She loaded the dishwasher with her cup and the ones from the sink, then gave the bench a quick wipe down. Shepard was looking thoughtfully into the dregs of her mug when Ashley was finished.

"Well, if I'm going groundside, I should get back to my duties. I didn't mean to take up so much of your time."

"I look forward to our next talk."

"You should," Ashley replied. She felt the blush creeping up her neck as she slid quickly out the door.