Citadel March 5, 2183

Restocking the Normandy was always a hassle. The first stocking of even more so. The addition of new crew on the ship, and non-human crew at that, was a pain. Her requisitions officer had half an idea of what to acquire for a single turian. Tali and Wrex on top of that, had thrown him for even more of a loop. His inexperience meant delays Shepard would have liked to avoid, but there was no helping it. The last thing she wanted was to find Saren, only for someone to keel over from starvation.

She'd taken to wandering the wards instead, to stave off her restlessness before being shot off to the Artemis Tao cluster. It was one of three leads the council had afforded her after the mess of Saren's trial.

The rush to make anything stick and scraps the council had thrown away had left her with three leads. Three and a half if she counted the video Nihlus had forwarded after the trial. None of them were direct, but what was she expecting? A red carpet? Saren had been a spectre for close to her entire life. Of course, he was hard to track.

His allies, on the other hand.

The geth, while elusive, were hardly stealth units. Unusual movements made within council space could be tracked fairly easily. Because they were all unusual. The geth kept to themselves usually, so finding them on another human colony was enough cause to look.

Then there was Tali's geth file and the voice of the asari matriarch Benezia. A name Shepard knew in passing from existing in the citadel embassies for a few years. Her involvement didn't really add up. Her reputation seemed the opposite of Saren's, focussed on peace and negotiation and softer things. Her trail was fainter and more than a little baffling, but her daughter's wasn't.

Dr. Liara T'Soni was entirely predictable. The prothean archaeologist had found herself at a prothean dig site on a small planet called Therum. Really, the only surprise had been that Shepard knew of her. She'd followed T'Soni's research for years, annoying Darrius, Garrus, and anyone else who'd listen with her own theories on the protheans. The line between hobby and obsession was thin with Shepard's interest in the prothean's, but regardless it served her well here. Perhaps the woman from the shore — the other Shepard — was the cause of it.

Maybe the same gut feeling that had drawn her interest in the protheans was the same one telling her to get T'Soni first. It was an infuriating feeling. One that radiated a wretched smugness from the back of her mind.

Feros was the logical choice. Civilians should take priority over one woman Shepard had never met. But at the end of the day, her gut feeling, the other Shepard hadn't steered her wrong yet.

Regardless of the motivation, the detour wouldn't take long, and the colony should be able to hold off the geth until she arrived.

Shepard sighed, leaning over the edge of the walkway she was perched over and down into the Lower Wards sprawled out below. It was a welcome break to watch the bustling people below, short-lived as it was. The better part of the last hour had been spent stealing seconds between reports, and the uncorrupted file Nihlus had forwarded to her upon request.

He'd almost made an effort to protest when she'd asked for it. The question of 'why do you want this?' was kept at bay by the one that asked 'what do you know that I don't?' and the knowledge that Shepard probably wouldn't answer.

The video wasn't anything special on its own. It started as Nihlus approached the dock on Eden Prime and ended with a human dockworker dragging him behind shipping crates. The things in between were what she was expecting. Saren's attempt at fooling Nihlus and the younger turians narrow escape. And yet.

Shepard had looped the footage until she could see it when she closed her eyes.

"You see how twitchy he is?" A voice suspiciously like the woman on the shore whispered in the back of her mind. "It's the indoctrination. How long do you think it's been since Sovereign found him? Weeks? Months? Maybe a year? It's hard to tell when everyone reacts differently. But what stays the same is the twitching. The tremor that takes over before you lose yourself completely. I felt it too, once."

"Once," Shepard repeated.

She paused the looping video, starring at the image of Saren on her datapad.

"You know, for someone who claims to be taking a break, you're spending a lot of time working." a voice cut through her thoughts.

"I never said I was taking a break, Garrus. I said I was getting some air. Running errands, reading reports…" She caught his gaze as she looked up at the turian beside her.

Garrus snorted. "In front of shut down strip clubs like we all do."

"Well, my apartment's a bit far from the docks." She shrugged.

"Uh-huh." He crossed his arms, tapping out seconds with his finger.

"I also wanted to riffle through Fist's files," she admitted. "They were all useless, for the record. Corruption this, illegal activities that. It's all boring stuff, not worth the money Fist wanted for it."

"Of course not." Garrus reached to take the datapad from her. She let him.

"We should go before Joker takes off without us."

Normandy March 5, 2183

She'd forgotten how prickly Joker had been when they'd first started working together. He'd been defensive and suspicious, and somehow between Eden Prime and the Citadel, she'd completely forgotten. It wasn't entirely her fault. An overwhelming amount had happened in the short time between them, and it wasn't like they were especially close. Beyond sarcastic banter, it wasn't like they were close.

Of course, Shepard knew more than she let on. She'd read his file, and she'd been one of thirteen that had personally recommended him to Anderson. But some things didn't translate well over reports, like his flying or his prickly personality.

She'd flown with him once before on a routine mission near the edge of Citadel space before the Normandy. He'd had his own way of flying that had never quite matched up with Alliance standard training. It was the kind of flying that made the ship feel like it was his second skin.

Shepard counted the seconds waiting for Joker to finish explaining what she already knew about him. He still looked ready to fight when he finished, as if he'd ever had to fight for her respect. She'd never really cared about his condition out of the pilot seat.

"I wasn't aware you were on my ground team, Jeff." She drawled flatly when he finished. If he'd been anyone else, she might have toned down the sarcasm. But it was him. He practically breathed sarcasm. "I'll make sure to write a note in your file. Local idiot thinks I'm going to take him off his ship."

She held back a laugh as his face scrunched up, processing her words.

"What...? Hey!"

"Honestly, Joker. You're a pilot. I'm not expecting you to do backflips down the CIC." She dropped into the co-pilot seat. "I'm not about to replace you either. Not only would it be a pain in the ass, but I already know you're the best pilot for the Normandy. I was one of the people who recommended you for the job.."

Her words took a moment to sink in before he fluffed up at the compliment. "Damn straight, commander."

He eyed her as she stared out the window.

"You know, you're different than I was expecting." She raised a brow looking over. "Everyone always talks about how you're some big shot above us mere mortals. Took it to mean you were kind of a dick."

She snorted. "You save a colony from an invasion one time," She shook her head. "And suddenly, you're some sort of immortal hero with a huge ego. You know what I was thinking through all that?"

"Nope."

"I was thinking, Shit, I left the stove on." She let out a soft laugh. "There was this big invasion on Elysium, and all I could think of was that I might be the reason the barracks burned down."

Jeff burst out laughing.

"I'm serious. Back when I lived on Earth, my roommate used to yell to hell and back at me for it all the time."

"The almighty commander Shepard forgot to turn off the stove?" He switched on the autopilot.

"Um, yes? I'm a hazard in the kitchen. Or so C-Sec tells me. I was half-convinced there'd be a fire when we finally made it back." She shrugged. "Honestly, I preferred the pirates to the two-hour lecture I got after I got out of medical."

He snorted a laugh. "Well, try not to set the Normandy on fire, commander."

"Alenko cooks enough to feed half the crew. I doubt I'll be touching the stove." She waved a hand. "And he's good at it. I burn toast."

"Is that jealousy I hear, commander?"

"Yes."