Shepard awoke curled in a ball facing the wrong end of her bed with no idea of when she fell asleep and no memory of the end of the movie. Garrus had spread a blanket over her at some point, and she was alone, so he must have managed to stay awake at least a little longer than she did. A shard of something lodged in her throat provoked a whining-dog-chained-outside sort of ache in her chest, but she shoved it aside.

"Captain?" Alenko called, hammering on her door. "You wanted me to wake you up when we reached the Citadel?"

She grumbled and stirred a little, a wide yawn forestalling her reply. "Thank you, Brother Sparky. Your attention to duty and detail shall find their reward in the Enkindlers' grace."

He chuckled. "Huerta Memorial has porters waiting at the dock, and a volus named Barla Von asked me to relay this message, 'Brother Von awaits Sister Shepard's pleasure. Glory be to the Enkindlers.'"

Shepard grinned and swung out of bed. "Glory hallelujah, Brother Sparky. It's a beautiful morn-" She looked down at her chronometer. "Evening." She changed into her uniform, ran her fingers through her short curls, grabbed her kit and ran for the head. Washed face, brushed teeth, and a little lipstick later, she jogged back to her quarters, snagging Kaidan on the way.

"Can you and Jenkins help the Doc get the ladies moved and settled? I'm going to have Ash, Wrex, Tali and all but two of your Marines take the quarian kids to their transport. We need to keep a guard on Rael'Zorah, however. Don't let that slippery bastard out of anyone's sight." She stopped and looked back at a crate sitting on her table. "When did that get there? And what is it?"

"I dropped it off earlier today. It's a few things we found in the Blood Pack base that raised red flags for me. The intel: Liara, Shiala, and I put everything we found into a report. It's on the datapad there on top." He looked up as the tell-tale thump of the docking clamps boomed through the ship, making the floor shiver under their feet.

Shepard smiled. "Excellent, thanks. Get moving. Once we get these errands done, it's going to be at least four hours before we can get clearance to head back out." She paused, thought for a moment, then shook her head. "As much as I hate to give Saren even a minute more head start, I'll have Pressly book our departure for 0530." She glanced back at her chronometer even though it didn't have any information to give her, just using it as a focus for her thoughts. "It's 1915 now . . .. Give me three leave rotations. Three hours each. Get the crew off the Normandy and out for supper, shopping . . . pedicures . . . I don't care. We've just been through a massive pile of shit, and we're going back out to hit another one, so get the people off my boat, COB."

Kaidan grinned and saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Think I'll get myself a pedicure, maybe a nice facial."

Shepard lobbed her kit at him. "Cheeky wiseass."

He caught it and tossed it back, laughing as he turned and hurried out the door.

"Oh! Sparky!" She waited until he reappeared in her door. "Have Rael'Zorah and our artificial guest met, yet?"

"No, ma'am. I thought it best to keep them separate, so Legion has been helping Dr. T'Soni and Shiala with the prothean devices."

"Good thinking. Let's continue to keep those two separate for now. I'll deal with them on the way back to the Traverse. Okay. Let's get these shows on the road." She stared at the crate for a moment, then decided it could also wait for the trip back to the traverse. Priceless art, quarian pilgrims and a few personal errands awaited.

She headed out to the elevator. As she passed the galley, she considered breakfast . . . or supper, whichever, but then decided to get something while she was out. The elevator opened the moment she hit the control. At least she didn't have to wait for it to crawl up to her. Leaning against the side wall, resigned to a long ride, she hit the control and let out a sigh. A grin that felt too stupid for comfort settled on her face. It had been a good morning. She'd never had friends to just sit around with, eating junk food and watching vids. It had been fun.

Fun. Shit. Been a long time since I last used that word and meant it.

"Captain!" Pressly jumped onto the elevator just as the door started to close. "I need to speak to you about some serious concerns."

And . . . there goes the fun.

She nodded. "Okay, as long as they're the sort that can be discussed between here and the cargo bay . . . so you have about half an hour."

He didn't even try to smile. "I understand bringing those young woman aboard. It was a noble thing you did, but the quarians and the geth? This is an Alliance warship, Captain, and a classified prototype at that. And you've filled it with aliens . . . two of whom were at war with the Alliance and the same race as the monster we're hunting." Throwing up his hands, he stormed a few paces away and then back. "Now you're entrusting priceless human artwork to the care of a volus?" He stepped in front of her, his arms bulwarked across his chest. "And fraternizing with turians? Captain, have you lost your mind?"

Shepard's teeth clenched together so hard they squeaked. She pushed away from the wall, joints and muscle loose, back ramrod straight. "Back up, XO. I've put up with your racism because you're a good, efficient officer who gives the crew a solid foundation. That tolerance has reached its end." She paused and stepped into him a little, backing him up. "My ship is of human-turian design, and it carries a multi-racial team that has proven their loyalty both to me and to this crew."

Shepard stopped and waited until he showed signs of registering not just the facts she'd presented, but also that he was disposable if he got in the way of the mission.

When he took another step back and his crossed arms relaxed a little, she nodded. "Other notable facts: My fraternization, if and when it exists, is entirely my god-damned business whether it's with human, turian, elcor or . . . plankton." She raised an eyebrow. "A good XO shuts down those sorts of bullshit rumours rather than feeding them."

The older man's arms raised a little and he pulled his foot back a half length. Shepard leaned forward, not letting him pack that protective cushion around him.

"I don't know what sorts of captains you have served under prior to the Normandy . . .." She paused and shook her head. "No, in fact I do. You served on the Agincourt during the Blitz, that means you served under Capt. Sila Okafor." Shepard laughed, but it came out edged with steel. "Would you be having this conversation with Okafor? I would have paid for a ticket to the fraternization portion of that. She would have slapped you back so hard you hit yeoman before you landed."

Pressly's mouth opened then snapped shut, a dangerous red pigment crawling up his neck as a vein in his forehead popped out. She hoped he'd taken his blood pressure medication that morning, but didn't back down.

"I don't intend to explain every order I give or decision I make. If you can't serve happily under those conditions, then transferring is a viable option. I'm sure Anderson and Hackett would expedite that paperwork." She reached out to grip his elbow. "But, as I said at the beginning, I think you're good for the ship . . . a stabilizing factor, so I hope you decide to work with me, Mr. Pressly."

The elevator door opened and she stepped out, but then stopped and turned back. She frowned and tilted her head, searching his face. "Do you believe the Reaper threat is real, Mr. Pressly?"

After a moment, his arms dropped and he straightened. "I do, ma'am."

Her questioning stare turned to gratitude, her expression softening to a smile. "Then help me get the people, intel, and resources that we need in order to win."

He nodded and snapped off a brisk salute. "Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you. As you were." She turned and hurried to the open ramp and the squat, pacing form of Barla Von.

"You thinking about going ashore alone, Captain?"

Shepard turned toward Garrus's call. "Almost everyone else is assigned to teams and busy with their business."

"And me?" He walked up to her, those frost-jewel eyes piercing straight through her. "Why wasn't I assigned to a team?"

"You haven't been raked through enough coals this week? Allergic to taking a few hours off?" A grin a little too wide and a little too grateful stretched her face, sparking a light in her chest that shone far too bright. Nothing good could come out of allowing herself to attach to anyone. Friends were great . . . for people who didn't lead crazy, dangerous lives, and well . . . for the undamaged. Still, she nodded toward the ramp. "Give me a moment with Brother Von, then you can run errands with me if you like. We can grab Anderson and get some dinner somewhere."

He nodded and headed over to his locker as Shepard trotted down the ramp to greet Barla Von.

"Sister Shepard," the volus financier greeted her, his voice teasing, even through the wheeze.

She bent down and took his mechanical hand between both of hers. "Brother Von, thank you for taking care of these issues for us. Were you able to book passage for our quarian guests to get them back to the fleet?"

"I was. A private frigate awaits, bumping its alpha priority clearance until your people arrive. As soon as the passengers are aboard, it will leave." He paused to take a few hissing breaths. "I took the liberty of diverting a squad of the Shadow Broker's tactical agents to provide security on board." He opened his omnitool and sent her the dock information.

"You've outdone yourself, Brother Von. The Enkindlers' light is strong in you." She reached up and called Ash to tell her to move out, then sent her the dock information. A minute later, the small squad led the nervous young people down the ramp and into the crowd at the docks. Shepard gave the chief a quick wink and a nod.

"You have some cultural artifacts?" Von continued. He stood a little taller as if trying to peer up the ramp.

"We do. Crates and crates of art, sculptures, and books." She invited him up the ramp and led the way to the stack of crates. "There are billions of credits worth of human, asari, and turian art packed in here. The only one that has a destination is that tall one there marked extremely fragile. The receiver will see that it gets to where it needs to go. The rest . . . find them good homes in museums, most of the books will have to go to private collectors no doubt."

She looked down at him. "If we can get rewards or finder's fees, I am not averse to padding the war prep account." Opening her omnitool, she scrolled through her directory. "I've marked a few books for auction. The money needs to be donated to this rehabilitation center to cover the cost of treatment for the ladies who fell prey to Donovan Hock. Some of them will need a place to go after the hospital."

He wheezed. "I admit, I did not think you would be so open to making a profit on your altruism."

Shepard shrugged and sighed. "I don't have the luxury of being squeamish, Brother Von. The darkness is closing in and even the Enkindlers' mighty light wasn't enough to save them from the Reapers. I have a war to wage. I need you to help me fund an army, my friend."

He nodded and opened his omnitool. Less than a minute later, a platoon of what looked like mercs arrived and rushed the crates out to an armoured truck. He offered her his hand. "I'll send you the full financials as soon as they find their new homes."

Shaking his hand, Shepard laid her other hand on his shoulder. "Good." Shepard tilted toward the financier in a conspiratorial lean. "Were you able to get the locations of those bases I asked about? I was hoping to hit them on the way back out into the traverse." She looked up as Garrus wandered over, armoured up, his sniper rifle and Roger on his back.

Von sighed, a heavy wheezing sound. "Tonn Actus has been a reliable source of intel over the cycles." He combined a breath and a grumble. "The Shadow Broker is not inclined to allow his assets to be wiped out on a whim." Another wheeze. "Particularly when he is being asked for the information needed to eliminate that asset."

Shepard stepped back, crossing her arms, and cocked both her hip and her eyebrow. "And I haven't provided three times more intel in a few short weeks? Face it, Brother Von, Tonn Actus isn't going to be the one you run your ass off to when the Reapers are rampaging across the galaxy. It's going to be me. Both you and the Shadow Broker need to decide where your priorities lie."

He grumble-wheezed, and his omnitool flashed to life once more. "He has three bases. All of them are holding facilities for his collection. All are very well protected." He paused and drew a sharp breath. "He's wealthy and paranoid."

Shepard nodded. "So . . . inclined to have a massive security force and the cash to pay for it. Understood, Brother Von. Thank you." A crooked grin and a wink followed the beep from her omnitool that told her the information had been received. "This helps a lot." Nodding with a stiff tilt of her head toward the line of moving crates, she said, "And thanks for seeing all these treasures get where they will do the most good."

He returned the nod and backed up a step. "Be careful in your travels, Sister Shepard."

"Be well, Brother Von. Walk in the Enkindlers' light." She gave him an exaggerated bow.

"And you." He turned and waddled back down the ramp, calling directions to the people loading the crates into the armoured truck.

Garrus walked over. "Tonn Actus?"

Shepard nodded toward the ramp. "Come on, we've got a few hours. There's someone I want you to meet." When they reached the bottom, she addressed his question. "Tonn Actus is a favour for Wrex. I'll need your help, if you're willing." She cut a glance over at him when he chuffed.

"You know you just need to ask," he said, his voice soft and rolling with sub-vocals.

She let out a little hum of sound. "Yeah. Yeah, I do at that. Well, Brother C-Sec, how do you feel about being lieutenant to a krogan battlemaster?"

Garrus's brow plates peaked. "Okay, I'm intrigued, although I get the feeling that I'm going to live to regret my curiosity."

As they walked to the transport hub inside the C-Sec Academy, she laid out her plan to reclaim Wrex's armour. She finished as they arrived. "So, what do you think?"

He paused for a long moment, his head canting a little to one side, obviously thinking it through and looking for weaknesses. When he straightened, he stared into her eyes, a stare that felt as though he reached down into her to discover the parts of the plan she hid under the surface. "You want to send Wrex home in a position of power." When she nodded, he took a deep breath. "It's bold, but for it to really work, we're going to have to let a few survivors escape. Give some time for the mythos to grow."

Shepard grinned. "I like the way you think." She frowned and looked around, just noticing their surroundings for the first time. "Do you need to do anything while we're here? File some last minute reports? Talk to buddies? Pick up fresh undies?"

He turned away, his neck arching a little as he looked around, seeming to be reacquainting himself with the place. His gaze lifted to the glowing blossoms on the trees. After a moment, his neck relaxed, slumping a little when he let out his breath. "You know, I haven't missed it."

She watched him, feeling a vague sort of homesick sadness emanating from him, but it wasn't about longing for home or the familiar. Rather, it came across as the sorrowful disappointment of returning home to discover everything unchanged and uncomfortable.

She eased her voice into the silence between them, "I haven't given you any time to miss it."

He tossed a weak smile her way, his hand drifting up to brush her shoulder before falling back to his side. "No." He shook his head and stepped forward, and for that second, she thought she'd never seen anyone look quite so alone. "I never belonged here."

Well, except for me.

"Come on, Brother C-Sec. Let's hang out with some people we haven't been elbow to elbow with for more than a month." She closed the distance between them and slipped her hand into his. "Come on," she repeated, giving a slight tug. "You have somewhere you belong, now."

He turned to stare down into her eyes, the haunted look there slowly drawing back. After a second, he took a deep breath that seemed to settle the steel back into his frame, and he nodded. "Yeah." He took another deep breath. "Let's get where we're going."

She squeezed his talons and released them. "Excellent idea. I'm going to need to get some sleep. I want to spend some time introducing our two special guest stars on the way back out, and I get the feeling that is going to take all the patience of Job and then some." She laughed and stepped up to the console to call a cab. "You may not have noticed, but patience isn't my forte."

"Where are we going?" he asked as they got in.

Shepard shrugged. "To meet one of the real heroes of the Skyllian Blitz." He looked over at her with his brow plates raised, but she just shrugged.

Twenty minutes later, she landed the cab outside the rehab center, leaving the meter running. She didn't open the top right away. Instead, she sat back and let her hands drop into her lap. "While Jenkins and I wandered Omega the other day, I told him the story of what happened on Elysium. Martin was a young man . . . a friend . . . who had my back through the whole ordeal. Really great kid."

She looked over at him, a tight smile pressing her lips together for a moment. "Not a soldier, just a teenager with the sort of guts and passion that the Alliance wishes it could find more often. He tried to save a grieving father who broke through our barricade. The father was killed, Martin was captured by the slavers."

"He survived?" Garrus's voice washed up against her shields without penetrating them.

She nodded, barely more than a tremor of motion. "The slavers tortured and mutilated him to punish me. Took his eyes, ears, and tongue and none too cleanly. Surgery has repaired most of the damage, and he has ocular implants over where his eyes were. He still carries some pretty terrible scars, and can be a little hard to understand when he talks." She looked over and met his eyes for a second, then slapped her hands against her knees. He jumped. "Come on, C-Sec, let's bust the kid out." Popping the top open, she swung her feet out and stood as quickly as it allowed. She stretched a little, then turned toward the busy lawn and basketball court.

Several of the residents sat out on the grass, reading or listening to music as they watched the raucous basketball game in progress.

Shepard grinned as she spotted Martin running down the court in hot pursuit of Sam who had the ball and was wheeling toward the basket at a speed the kid couldn't hope to catch even though he was a good ten metres ahead of the nearest pursuer.

Martin leaped, snatching the ball out of the air when it rebounded. He spun the moment his feet hit the ground, poised to run to the other end of the court, but then he caught sight of Shepard and tossed the ball down the court.

He lifted a hand. "Hey beautiful."

She watched him lope over, a wide grin making her cheeks ache. "Oh, stop with the flattery." Wrapping him in a tight hug, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Those were some impressive moves out there, kid. You giving up on the painting?"

Martin pulled back. "No, I've just been spending more time outside, running, working out, and playing sports since the last surgery. Wanted to get in shape. Thought I might see about applying to the C-Sec academy one of these days."

"That sounds like a great plan, and it's good to see you outside." She didn't add that it was good to see him moving away from hiding himself from the rest of the galaxy. Stepping back, Shepard held her arm out toward Garrus. "Martin, I'd like you to meet Garrus Vakarian. He's teamed up with me for my latest mission. Garrus, this is Martin Weaver, one of my oldest and dearest friends." She stepped back a bit as they shook hands. "If you're interested in getting into C-Sec, Garrus is someone you should talk to. He was an investigator with C-Sec before I abducted him."

"Really?" Martin asked, perking up with excitement. "Will my implants be a problem?"

"Come on," Shepard interrupted, "you two can talk about this in the car." She turned toward the vehicle. "Know anywhere good to have dinner, Vakarian? I'll send Anderson the details, and he can meet us there."

Garrus fluttered his mandibles in a grin she knew was teasing her. "You're just afraid to run into Udina, aren't you?"

"That ass?" Martin muttered a vivid curse and slipped his hand into Shepard's, squeezing her fingers tight. "Shepard's not afraid to see him; she's afraid I'll go through with my promise to strangle him with my bare hands if I ever see him again."

Shepard gave his fingers a squeeze then released him, nodding for him to get into the car.

Garrus stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I have a favourite place to eat." He opened his omnitool and sent her the information.

"And it won't leave the rest of us sitting in the head for the rest of the week?" Shepard raised a suspicious eyebrow as she opened her omnitool.

"They serve levo as well. The owner is human." The turian ducked into the back seat.

"Well then, excellent." Shepard sent the information then climbed in and started the car. Glancing over at Martin, she asked, "Need to do anything while you're out and about?"

He nodded. "I could use some new paints. The best ones are in that shop in the presidium markets."

"Sounds like a plan. I could use a stroll amidst the lakes and fountains of the over-privileged." She laughed and lifted off.

Martin turned in his seat to look at Garrus, asking his question again, "Do you think my implants will interfere with being accepted into C-Sec academy?"

Garrus rumbled a little and cleared his throat. "That depends. What's your visual acuity and field of sight?"

Shepard smiled, grateful to him for being so matter of fact.

"Acuity is .87 and field of vision up to 95% infrared, 83% ultraviolet, and 78% visual spectrum. Movement acuity is .93."

"That's not bad at all. Get them all up to 90%, and you should be fine. Are the surgeons still making neural connections?"

Shepard listened to them talk, guiding the car through the endless streams of traffic in a very automatic manner. A wonderful sort of calm entered the space, forming a bubble that allowed her to believe for a few seconds that even her life could just be . . . normal some of the time.