Chapter 5
Anderson was at his desk when Gala parted the doors and stood at attention, his bag on his bed and unopened….He looked right over his shoulder to the entrance where she stood, offering him a cursory salute out of respect or habit, and unnecessary for the two at this point. He minimized his messages and reports to stand up, the door closing behind her.
As he stood, he raised his hand to his brow, perfunctory in response to her gesture, "….Shepard," his voice was confiding and gruff, "….you've been serving with me for over six years now, and promoted rapidly following the aftermath of Akuze, in which you exhibited skills in the face of incredible odds and survived slaughter….I realize you may have been treated questionably after that incident, but you have not let your misgivings show—if you have any—towards the Alliance…." Gala only stared ahead, making no indication she had been affected by the word "misgivings"—or mention of the incident, "….We have a unique mission ahead of us, one in which we will be operating under the cover of a 'welfare check' on the colony known as Eden Prime, and it is very dear to Humanity….It is a remarkable promise of what proper planning, execution, resources, and a whole lot of luck," he smiled, teeth bright between his dark lips, "….can do for us pithy Humans in the eyes of the other races….We will be performing this….'welfare check'….but in truth, Shepard, we will be assisting in the locating and securing of an unearthed prothean beacon…." Gala's eyes darted to Anderson's briefly from their fix to the wall above his bed, straight ahead of her and the doorway, "….It was uncovered during the expansion of their CTRS system, and it is top secret what we are to do," his voice roughened, "….The beacon must be secured for Alliance to pick up with the necessary ship to handle this sort of technology….You may comment freely now."
"Sir," her face relaxed with the muscles of her mouth working, her eyes focused on him, no longer the wall, "….these beacons….are they dangerous to Humans?"
"We can't say whether this particular beacon will be dangerous or not, Shepard, but we follow the protocol: All Prothean technology, no matter the state found in, shall be approached with all due caution and only handled by the men and women qualified with the experience and credentials that signify they know how to tamper with the technology and so forth," he dismissed the rest with a wave of his hand, "….You are aware of the significance of finding Prothean technology in a human colony…."
"Yes, sir," she nodded once, "….'Property of the SA', Sir!"
"Good," Anderson chuckled quietly, "….Good to have your candidness on the matter, Shepard….Alliance wants it," he went on, "….Humanity needs it if we are to maintain a competitive edge with Asari, Turians, and Salarians—to name a few…." He stepped away a pace, turned and gazed back at her standing silently before the door. Gala could see something brewing in her captain's mind, and she waited, knowing it was coming, "….There's something else, Shepard…."
"Sir?"
"I have….not been honest with you," he looked down for a moment before reconnecting his gaze with hers, "….You were permitted to go to Earth to visit your family for a reason….Do you know—"
"Sir, I was informed—"
"I say this with respect for your mother and your father, as well as you and the severity of the event that took place on Earth." He raised his chin, breathed in, "….While you were on leave for your mother—and her funeral—some meetings happened, a decision was made….You have not been informed of any of what's been decided here on the Citadel while you were away, as it was required that you be in the dark, but I am going to tell you now that since you have set foot on the Citadel again, you have been closely monitored….Hell," he chopped the air with his hand in frustration with having to tell her this way, "….you were probably monitored while you were visiting your family at the hospital and the funeral home," he saw a flicker of awareness cross Gala's face, "….You have been put under observation, Shepard, but it's not for what you might think it is…."
"Sir," she chose to assert her privilege as his trusted officer—and protégé, "….I was permitted to leave, if I may speak freely still, Sir….I didn't go anywhere—or do anything….other than what I had laid out to you on that desk," she nodded to his in the corner of his cabin space, "….three months ago when I requested that leave of absence, Sir…." Gala's eyes held his, trained on him like unwavering crosshairs.
Anderson's face remained stoic—aside from the small outburst by a hand-chop, when he'd divulged to Gala that she had been monitored on the Citadel, and more than likely on Earth as well, during a private death ceremony in her family….Her suspicions dominated the violation she should have felt for having such probing while family was being laid to rest, her suspicions about certain irregularities she had picked up on since her arriving and waiting for the lift at C-Sec with Kaidan—now Anderson was about to free to her the rest of the information that had been withheld from his Executive Officer, his Second-in-Command, "….There is a SpecTRe on board the Normandy as we speak," her eyes did not even flick an eyelash, and Anderson commended her for this self-discipline, "….He is in the communication center, waiting to speak personally with you."
The turian.
"Accompany me, Commander," Anderson walked passed her, Gala turning on heel and following, "….We shouldn't keep him waiting….not much longer in any case," they emerged through the doorway of his office, into the mess area, and made briskly for the stairs to the upper deck.