Chapter 4

Alaya inhaled sharply and winced as she felt a pinching sensation and a sudden sense of vertigo and grabbed her stomach.

"In here," Alaya heard the voice of the ship's doctor who had directed her to a small bucket where she emptied her stomach's contents from the feeling of the spinning room, completely unaware of what was going on, the doctor had a cool cloth that she used to wipe her mouth while another was dabbed on her forehead and Alaya was once again laying down on the bed, her eyes slowly focusing on the soft white lights of the ceiling.

"I was going to ask how you're feeling commander, but I think the proof is in the pudding," the deep voice belonged to none than Captain David Anderson who was in his dress blues at the foot of her bed.

"Akaa yoreema ra'shma," she muttered out.

"That explains everything," the voice she heard belonged in the bed next to her, she glanced over and could see that the wounded Turian, Saren was part sitting up, missing his shirt, his lower abdomen was bandaged up and had an IV drip to assist with his blood loss.

"He does speak," David said as he looked over at the Turian and it was clear there was some tension.

"It didn't make sense to me why an Alliance officer would be complicit in Hiigaran sabotage, but now I understand. The Commander is a half-breed," Alaya was quick to flash a look of anger but nearby Ashley was still standing there in her armor and soon had her hand rested on the pommel of her longsword.

"You want to try that again, Gritidiim?" Ashley spat out at the wounded Turian.

"Everyone just calm down," David said as he looked to Ashley. "Group Sergeant Soban, would you mind waiting outside?"

"Of course, Captain," Ashley said as she turned to leave. It was clear the Turian had struck a nerve, but it was even more clear that she was nothing if not a professional soldier.

"Captain Anderson, this incident of Hiigaran interference and sabotage will be reported to the Citadel Council. Rest assured, the Alliance will face censure because of it."

"Hold on, what in the hell are you babbling on about?" Alaya finally spoke up after having gained her bearings and her stomach was a little more settled.

"When you used the beacon, it overloaded before detonating. What's left of the beacon can fit in a small shipping crate, I suppose you couldn't risk this galaxy from getting out from under the thumb of your Daiamid, could you?" Saren growled at Alaya, and although she knew he was just baiting her, she hated her loyalty being questioned at every turn.

"We kept us all from getting incinerated by a nuclear warhead, asshole," Alaya growled.

"Commander!" David interjected. "You will conduct yourself in a manner befitting an Alliance officer."

"Yes sir, sorry sir." Alaya quickly responded while mentally berating herself for falling for such a trap, knowing how it not only reflected poorly on herself but on David in the eyes of the turians.

"Spectre Saren," David said as he gave a warning glare to Alaya not to say another word. "Commander Shepard is one of the best operators we have—an N7. However, she has the same personality as most deep country operatives and tends to shoot off her mouth. It's one of her shortcomings that we are working on. As for the beacon, the geth rigged up the device directly onto the beacon itself. Remember, that the entire time at the dig site the device had been completely inert and none of us know how Prothean technology works, other than the mass relay system. This incident can be clearly chalked up to chaos in the fog of war."

"You need to learn to stop protecting your men, Captain Anderson. Failure to successfully completing tasks set forth by one's superiors is the reason why the Hierarchy is not comfortable with the competence of the Alliance. Or is it a flaw with the Hiigaran Pax? Sometimes the difference is so hard to tell." Saren replied as he looked at Alaya with those icy blue eyes of an interrogator.

"It seems our men did well enough at removing that radioactive round and patching you up for CASEVAC. Odd though, why the Council would send you ahead to secure the beacon before we even got there. Data logs at the starbase indicate that you are an archeologist tasked with bringing the beacon to the Citadel. I assume this was a clerical error?" David said as he raised his brow.

"The details of my mission are not your concern, Captain. There will be a hearing, you can explain your actions to the Council itself," Saren finished and made it clear he wasn't going to say anymore. In the meantime, the doctor was removing Alaya's IV before applying gauze and tape to the injection site.

"Commander, head to the crew quarters and kit into your dress blues. I want a personal debrief from you before we reach the Citadel so I can file the after-action report. Once we land, we need to see the ambassador."

The rather aggressive slamming of lockers in the squadroom a few minutes later got the attention of a certain sergeant who was sitting on the bench and unclasping her own armor and looked over to Alaya Shepard who was muttering under her breath.

"Gritidiim araak shorna," she said as she aggressively pulled the uniform out of the locker.

"Now those are words that my tutor did not teach me when I was learning Kushan-La," Ashley said as she stopped what she was doing, resting her hand on the bench, standing up and leaning against the lockers and over at Alaya. Ashley was taller than the commander, but she did not look down at the commander but was clearly lending an ear to her unofficial CO.

"Turians. We save that arrogant bastard's life and he has the gall to say to me that I'm a traitor. A frakking black ops Kudaark accuses me of treason. I worked my bloody ass off to get where I am, no one played politics!"

"But that's not what's pissing you off," Ashley said as she remained casual.

Alaya slammed the door to her locker and looked down at the floor while still bracing her hands against the locker.

"Tough spot to be in, one foot in each world and no matter what side you choose, they will always treat you with suspicion. All the Hiigarans see is a human, and all the humans see is a Hiigaran."

"You have any idea how goddam sick I am of having to prove my loyalty time and again when my only crime was being born?"

"More than you know, ma'am. I suppose you could resign your commission if you're not up to the task," Ashley said to which Alaya was surprised at the accusatory statement.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look, these Council assholes will always look down on us both. Now, you can whinge and complain about how much life is unfair or you can take the shit hand that you have been dealt and use your wits to kick their asses and walk away from the table when this is done with their shirts.

"Besides," she said with a knowing grin. "What would piss them off more, you running away or you standing in front of them with your shoulders high and making it abundantly clear that this pain in the ass is not going away."

"You're right," Alaya said as she could not help but smile at Ash's typical Sobani pep talk.

"Damn right I'm right," Ash said as she got to stripping off her own combat armor and soon Alaya was scrunching her nose.

"What?" Ash said as she continued removing the pieces. "I've been wearing this damn thing for nearly four days. I'd like to see you wear your PT gear after four days of HIT and tell me you come out smelling like unicorn farts and daisies."

Alaya snorted at this as she hung up her uniform and pulled off the medical gown as she neared the shower. "Just do me a favor and space that thing before you set off the biohazard alarm."

"I'm going to make you pay for that."

"Pay for that, what?" Alaya called out from the shower as she turned it on.

"Ma'am! I'm going to make you pay for that, ma'am!" Ashley said as she finally got to unzipping the underlayer, jolting her head back as she couldn't help but agree with the sentiment.

Meanwhile, across the galaxy a man dressed in black fatigues was on board a vessel and approaching the man in charge and had a clearly nervous expression across his face as he did so. On the shoulder of his fatigues he had a symbol that no one in their right mind would display openly unless it was in a museum.

"Admiral, it appears the Alliance was able to interfere with our plans and Eden Prime was not destroyed by the weapon."

The man in question looked forward, his salt and pepper hair was immaculately groomed as he seemed to be focusing on something else entirely. The man had on him a uniform of rank and eventually he looked over to his subordinate before he turned back to what he was doing as the only acknowledgement of the conversation.

"Now, what part of your orders were unclear? You were to secure that beacon and make sure that no one knew that it was taken. Instead, every Alliance marine in the galaxy is aware of our presence and you have put this entire plan at risk. The Brotherhood assured me that they were sending their best operative, so I am beginning to seriously question that statement, given how spectacularly you failed in your mission.

"The mission would have gone according to the schedule were it not for that Council Spectre, Saren. I don't know how, but he learned that I wasn't actually an Alliance citizen and was planning to eliminate me. That, and the Normandy showing up only exacerbated our problems."

"So, the Exiles and the humans are working together," the Admiral had nothing but contempt at hearing this, but the way that he was focusing, it was clear that he already had a plan in motion and looked over at his underling.

"We're going to provide a new identity and clean papers to get you onto the Citadel. If Saren managed to survive, you are to make sure that he doesn't for much longer."

"What about the Normandy crew?"

"They are not a priority. I do not tolerate repeated failure, so consider your life tied to the life of that Spectre."

Both Ashley and Alaya arrived at the bridge of the Normandy as they decelerated in the proximity of the mass relay bathed in the soft pink of the nebula cloud that the station was shrouded in. Joker touched several commands on the navigation interface. With so much traffic coming and going, the Citadel had a complex array of 'highways in space' as they called them. Essentially a projected navigation beam in three-dimensional space that gave strict adherence to speed and navigation thresholds. Civilian shipping lanes had much lower restrictions in how far off a ship could be to account for their lower grade navigation VIs, but the military lanes were far stricter as well as severely policing who got what lane.

"Normandy, we have you on scope. Steer zero two five by negative twelve and speed three two thousand to join Associate Lane Six," the operative announced.

Joker shook his head at this. As an associate race and not a Council race, it didn't matter if the vessel was military or civilian, they would have the slow lanes to dock which would mean hours of delays. However, he knew that such a restriction would not do for the passengers on board and moments later he heard Nihlus' voice through the comms.

"Approach Control, this is Spectre Kryik. Council override code tangen nine six marta."

"Confirmed, please use Reserved Military Lane One," Joker didn't normally like other people touching the comms gear on his ship, but Nihlus just saved them hours of sitting around as he joined the approach lane in question. Besides, it wasn't as if a Spectre actually needed permission for anything.

"Perks of having a VIP on board," Alaya said as the Normandy passed under the Destiny Ascension—flagship of the Citadel Fleet. While she always felt that dreadnoughts were a massive waste of resources, she could not help but admit the awe and power they inspired. The backbone of the Hiigaran fleet was the frigate, with battlecruisers and destroyers playing more the role of a fire support platform rather than the forefront. Yet this ship was inspiring and based on the bristling points that she recognized as accelerator barrel tips, it could gut any ship in the Alliance fleet.

"That's quite the ship," Ashley spoke up as they glided underneath the massive vessel, Joker having to push down the nose a little more as the massive drives of the dreadnought tended to create a very strong magnetic field near the aft. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough to throw the Normandy a little off track.

"Yeah, if you're dumb enough to stand in front of it," Joker responded.

"Or get too close to its drive plume," Kiadan said with a little bit of nervous tension in his voice as their helmsman came a little too close for his comfort, setting off a few heat master cautions as they passed behind the Asencion's heat cone and headed to their berth.