Chapter 12: Flash Point

Mess Hall, Crew Deck, Normandy SR2. Published 6/12/22, last updated 6/13/22.

The mess hall was busy at this hour, but Karin had remained undisturbed throughout her meal. Once an isolating experience in the junior years of her career, she'd come to enjoy this perk of being a medical officer. Very few crew members, she'd found, wanted to dine with the doctor unless they were prepared to be interrogated as to their eating and sleeping habits. She had just started the next chapter of her novel when someone took the bench opposite. She looked up.

"Hello, XO."

"How are your charges, Doctor?" Miranda asked.

Chakwas checked her patients through the window, marking her place with a finger. Shepard was reading something on her omnitool, flicking lazily through frames. Garrus appeared to be asleep.

"Bored, which is to be expected. But compliant enough. It helps that I've patched them up dozens of times before." She looked back at her. "I expect Garrus will be leaving me in the next day or so. Shepard I'll keep in medbay as long as I can manage. She needs the supervision."

"To avoid exacerbation of her injury?"

"In part, yes." She sipped her tea, considering her words. "But also to monitor her for symptoms of stress response syndrome." She examined Lawson's expression of surprise, then shook her head. "Come, XO. Did you think you could resurrect her after a violent end, take her out of the stability of the Alliance—a stability that supplanted formative gang experiences—and force her to work for the organization responsible for the single most traumatic event of her military career, without psychological repercussions?" She snoozed her reader and folded her hands on the table. "Shepard is exceptionally resilient, but still human. I should think Cerberus would take better care of her as an investment, if nothing else."

A lengthy pause. Then Lawson sat forward. "Go on. I'm listening."

Chakwas frowned at her. "Good," she replied. "I won't ask you to forgive my bluntness. As the commander's doctor it's my responsibility to advocate for her wellbeing."

"I understand." The other woman propped her chin in her hand. "So Shepard's disposition has changed. She's not as she was before?"

"Yes and no. She masks her symptoms well, which is typical both for military personnel and humans socialized female as children. But she's served with Gunnery Officer Vakarian, and so she's let things slip during their frequent conversations." She took another sip. "You're aware why they went back to Omega?"

"Vakarian had a lead on Ablative VI shield upgrades. Though I suspect the timing had to do with a conversation Shepard and I had had earlier that day."

"Yes, when Shepard ordered you to deactivate unauthorized surveillance devices on the ship." She lifted her eyebrows when Lawson didn't answer. "Bored soldiers talk, XO. And you're correct. I've gathered that Garrus took the commander groundside because he felt she had been emotionally compromised. The Commander Shepard of two years ago would not have agreed, given the risks. Of course, impulsive decision making is one marker of adjustment disorder."

"I need to take this down." Lawson opened her omnitool and keyed something in. "What else?"

"Shepard is exhibiting signs of acute anxiety and fatalism. I wouldn't say she's descended into hopelessness just yet, but she is preoccupied with the pervasiveness of oppressive systems, and makes jokes about the futility of saving the galaxy when little good will come of its survival." She opened her hands in acknowledgment. "Perhaps it's merely a byproduct of experience. Still, this line of thinking is unusually jaded for her, and to process pessimism with Garrus is atypical. He's shown himself the more cynical of the two, and in the past she's been conscientious about moderating that inclination. And I need not point out that her closeness with Vakarian may stem in part from feelings of alienation from Cerberus, to say nothing of alienation from her own sense of identity and principles."

Lawson nodded, still typing. "What would you suggest as a solution?"

"Hm. Adjustment disorder often resolves on its own within six months, provided the triggering circumstances do not persist. It can be treated with therapy, but I'm doubtful Shepard will feel comfortable processing these feelings with Ms. Chambers on Cerberus's payroll. My recommendation? Give her transparency, a support network of people she can trust, and a familiar chain of command to lean on. If Shepard is Alliance, then the Normandy is an Alliance vessel. On an Alliance vessel the XO answers to the captain, not a civilian investor." She rose, gathering her tray and book. "I have to return to medbay, XO. I do hope you'll consider what I've said."

"I will, carefully." Lawson closed her omnitool. "Thank you for your professional opinion, Doctor."

From XO Lawson's private terminal

Subject: 0800 Report

To: Redacted

From: Miranda Lawson

Attachments: ASPCI-4_LADAR, ASPCI-4_HTM, ASPCI-4_AAMS

As you know, Commander Shepard recently took heavy fire on a supply run to Omega. Reconstructive surgery has been performed and she will make a full recovery. However, the collective opinion of the medical team is that even with Cerberus tech accelerating her convalescence, she will not be cleared for groundside combat for a full thirty cycles. Recruitment is on hold effective immediately.

I take full responsibility for Shepard's injury. She went groundside shortly after confronting me about the use of surveillance devices on the Normandy, issuing direct orders to deactivate all instances and observe Alliance protocols in setting ship policies. I had believed that, returned to active duty, Shepard would do as she has repeatedly done, and overcome the odds no matter the context. It appears, however, that the commander's achievements are at least partially dependent on conditions no longer being met since her resurrection. I have consulted with Doctor Chakwas, who believes Shepard is exhibiting symptoms of adjustment disorder or stress response syndrome.

While stress response syndrome is usually short-term, it can only resolve in the absence of what the doctor calls "triggering circumstances." Since she proposes that these circumstances include Shepard's involuntary discharge from the Alliance and her cognitive dissonance over contracting with the organization responsible for Akuze, I advise pivoting away from openly managing the Normandy as a Cerberus cell and surrendering policy decisions to Shepard in order to make her as comfortable as possible while she works with us. It may also be constructive to add more familiar faces to the crew if any candidates pass our security screening.

For now, I recommend focusing our energies on the acquisition of upgrades and mineral resources for future projects. To that end, I am submitting requisition forms on Commander Shepard's behalf for immediate installation of LaDAR, Heed Industries' Helios Thruster Module, and Ayndroid Group's Argus AMS on the Normandy.

Re: 0800 Report

To: Miranda Lawson

From: Redacted

Granted in full. I will take your recommendation on recruitment under advisement.

As to oversight, the success of the mission comes first. Proceed at your discretion.

Doctor Chakwas was signing his discharge papers the next room over. Shepard shook her head, thumbing her cast.

"Can't believe you're leavin' me like this, Vakarian. And here I thought we were close."

Garrus shrugged. "One of the benefits of annihilating my upper half instead of my lower, I guess." He patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll visit. Bring you soup and the latest issue of Fornax."

She snorted. "Thanks. Just the thing to get me through my day."

"I always know what you need."

"Sure do." She glanced up at the latest x-rays pinned on the viewer, fingers drumming a rhythm on the bed rail. Garrus tried and failed not to feel guilty.

"Seriously, do you want anything, Commander? Movies, books, talent show staged in the mess so you can watch through the windows?" He leaned back against her bed and crossed his arms, looking sideways at her. "I know how you hate sitting still."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm actually pretty good at sitting still, y'know, when a certain someone isn't around to shake the bed or heckle my ass every time I close my eyes."

"Yeah, but that shit is habit-forming, Shepard. You try to go a day without those interruptions after you've gotten accustomed, you're going to go stir-crazy."

"Aw. You're gonna miss me, Vakarian."

"Hey, wait. I'm telling you the opposite of that. Pay attention."

"Nope. That statement goes both ways. I'm laid up here, you're not gonna have anyone to bother with every shower thought that pops up, are ya?"

"What's a shower thought?"

"Something you'd prob'ly experience if you ever had one."

"What, a shower or a thought?"

"Either. Both. Shower thought's an idea that's unrelated to whatever you're doin' when you get it."

"Huh. I'll have to try it out some time. Maybe stroll over to the head on my two good legs after I'm taken off bedrest in five minutes."

"Low blow, Vakarian."

"I know. Hard to resist stooping to it when the opening's right there."

"...Wow. Can't wait for you to revisit the subtext of that one."

Chakwas came to the door. "Garrus, you've been cleared for light duty." She handed him a datapad. "Take it slow. Hydrate, keep the wound dry, and don't even contemplate changing the bandages yourself, or you'll find yourself demoted to Sick In Quarters."

"Received. Water in body: good. Water on body: bad."

She fixed him with a severe eye. "And until your orders change, I expect you back once every twelve hours. Think of it as an opportunity to check up on the commander, here." Shepard saluted him ironically.

"Got it," he said. "Thanks for everything, Doctor Chakwas."

"Thank me by taking due precautions to ensure our work isn't undone." She tapped him on the arm. "Up and out. I need to see to our captain."

"Yes, ma'am." He straightened off Shepard's bed. "I'll be back later, Commander. Try not to miss me."

"See ya, Garrus. Don't break anything important."

He saluted and went out.

The mess hall was deserted save a pair of crewmen whose names he hadn't learned yet and Lawson, brewing a cup of coffee at the counter. He went straight for the battery, nodding without making eye contact.

Footfalls behind him. He knew that tread. Maybe she was headed to CIC. Unless—

"Gunnery Officer Vakarian."

Damn it.

He turned, saluting. "XO Lawson."

"I heard you were being discharged today. How are your grafts holding up?"

"Just for light duty, ma'am. And I'm afraid I can't say. I'm under strict orders not to change the bandages myself."

"That's for the best. But no pain?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Good. That's good." Her blue eyes were fixed on his, unreadable. The observant part of his brain volunteered that he'd never met a human who maintained eye contact so unblinkingly. Too bad he had no idea what that meant.

"Uh." He flexed his fingers behind his back where she couldn't see him fidget. "With your permission, XO, I should really—"

"I was hoping you had a few minutes to discuss the last mission."

Well, that didn't sound good.