Escape the Fate

by LifeNDeath

A brother and a sister are reunited after 11 years apart. An Alliance soldier soon to be the first human Spectre and a former Alliance soldier turned pirate will have to put their differences aside to haunt down the rouge Spectre Saren. The siblings will go through adventures, romances and heartaches. Twists to the storyline as I see fit! First part of the E.t.F story.

12. Chapter 11: Leaving the Citadel

Hi all you wonderful Readers!

Nex chapter is up! This one was kind of hard to write... And took forever! Quinn is hungover and John is scoolding her for it! And then we're finally leaving the Citadel to go after Saren!

Hope you'll like it!

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Escape the Fate

Chapter 11: Leaving the Citadel

**Quinn's POV

"What the fuck—!" The furious, yet raspy scream tore through her dry vocal cords as soon as she shot up from the couch after having her face poured with ice-cold water. The sudden and rude awakening had her look for the bastard who dared to do this with nothing less than murderous intentions and her eyes fell upon a back being turned her way.

With an annoyed, yet familiar tone, he said; "Good, you're finally up," as he placed down the large, empty glass on a side table next to the couch.

Intent on killing him, she roared the question out loud; "You really want me to kill you?!" before she was about to storm over to her brother. However, her body wasn't as cooperative as she would have liked, and her wobbly legs buckled from the sudden weight and she stumbled back into the couch, face first.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she saw John stand at the door to the bathroom with a towel placed on his shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest and looking at her with an irritated expression on his face, yet she could see the satisfied glint in his eyes for the sorry state she was in. Oh how he must enjoy this…!

"I've been trying to wake you for almost an hour now," he countered, his tone matching his expression and loud enough to make sure it would hurt her aching head. Then he said as he turned to enter the bathroom; "The coffee is in the kitchen. I suggest you drink it and sober up quickly."

"Fuck you!" Quinn grabbed the first thing she spotted, which happened to be an empty beer bottle and threw it at him, hoping it would smash his brains out, but instead it smashed against the wall next to the door. The sound of it smashing had her headache spike and she cringed.

John paused and gazed down on the many shards at the floor before turning his head to her with an unimpressed raised eyebrow. "You're going to clean that up. And that too." He motioned his head to the mess she had left behind in the living room the night before. "Be ready to leave within 20 minutes," he said firmly then headed into the bathroom.

Having grown more frustrated, she grabbed another bottle before he could leave the room and threw it at him, only this time, it hit the mark where John had just stood a split-second prior. A loud and frustrated grunt came out of her mouth when she realized she had missed again and hoped that when he walked out of that bathroom, he would step his bare feet on the shards and if not, she would force his face down on them for how he woke her up! How dare that fucking pyjak wake her up like that?! People had died for even daring to speak to her too soon after she woke up! Granted, most of them had been stupid vorchas. But everyone in her gang had known not to get on her bad side if they wanted to breathe another day and when she had been drinking even more so!

As much as she wanted to go after John and beat the crap out of him, the sudden energy she had gotten from her rude awakening was quickly dispersing and the heavy fog in her head was taking over. Quinn let herself fall back onto the couch and the water still lying on the leather jumped up in the air only to fall down on her once more. This time however, she ignored it and the cold sensation of the water being absorbed by her cloths. Instead, she desperately tried to go back to sleep and get rid of the killer hangover which was awaiting her. Slowly, her body began to relax again but then her mind decided to begin the spinning sensation along with her stomach beginning to growl and flip at the same time. As the nausea settled in, she was powerless.

For each second, she laid there, she grew more aware of what was happening to her body and the inevitable outcome. Although the alcohol had suppressed the vision from the beacon for now, she wasn't so sure anymore this was the better solution. Her eyes opened as she couldn't stand the sensation of her body spinning, but that did not do much to help. Even though the room was standing still, she still felt like it was moving. Hoping it would stop, she pushed herself up in a sitting position and was revealed it did, but only for about a second. The throbbing in her head grew when she sat up and her eyes landed on the empty bottles of beer and vodka laying scattered on the table and floor with intent loathing. As much as she loved what the alcohol did to her body and brain as she drank it, the day after was never pleasant.

Grunting in frustration, she contemplated her options. The first and most desirable choice; ––she could go back to sleep for as long as John was in the shower only to risk being woken up with the same treatment or maybe even a worse one and not being able to kill him for it as she clearly wasn't anywhere near the state of doing it. The second choice; –– she may lay there, get another one of those annoying scoldings of his, which would only make her head explode and she would be forced to leave the apartment in the sorry state she was in now… The third choice; –– Get the fuck up from the couch, get the fucking coffee and get herself ready to go and get her hands on that fucking rouge Spectre.

There wasn't even a choice. Although her body was reluctant, her mind was determined to get what she wanted, and she wasn't going to let a damned hangover beat her! However, committing to it was going to be a bit more challenging…

"Fuck you, John," she muttered to herself venomously before pushing herself off of the couch and up on her wobbly legs which wanted to follow the spinning of the room.

Once up on her feet, she dragged herself into the small bedroom, pausing only a few times as the nausea was threatening to heave up the empty content of her stomach. She had to get out of these wet and dirty cloths, so she opened the first closet she could find. She wasn't surprised to find it nearly empty except for a few sets of cloths. As John was a marine, he spent most of his time shipped out and therefore never really used civilian clothing. The thought of her wearing that military get up again was repulsing and she rather walk around naked! Which reminded her that she needed to get some damned cloths before they left the Citadel. She had nothing other then the cloths she was wearing, and she desperately needed new underwear!

As there weren't many cloths to pick and choose from in her brother's closet, she grabbed the first things she saw; a white wife beater, a pair of black pants and a back zip hoodie with white and red stripes on the right arm. Only when she had changed into it all, did she spot the N7 logo on the chest.

She already knew John had been in the N7. A year or so before her and she wasn't surprised either that he had kept the cloths and armor they had given him.

Shrugging her shoulders, she walked out and into the small kitchen with a virtual window looking down on one of the many busy streets on the wards and space cars flying past the window. The apartment was so small, she felt like she was inside a shoebox. A krogan wouldn't even be able to fit in this shitty apartment! The kitchen was so small and narrow and had barley any room for two adult people walking in it, yet it helped a lot for the moment that the wall was close as she needed it to support herself.

With clumsy movements, she pushed herself off the wall and to the counter to grab the empty mug John had left out for her and poured the rich black liquid into it and on the counter before taking it to sit at the small table at the window. There she fell into the chair, put her hands on either side of her head as the headache was progressing and then took the first sip, hoping it would do miracle work on her, but unfortunately to her, there were no such thing as a miracle cure for a hangover. As the heaviness had her head and eyes drop a few times, she fought against it. All the while her stomach was screaming for food, but at the same time, the nausea was threatening to throw up anything that went down her throat. By the third sip or so, her stomach did a flip and she had to jump out of the chair, knocking it over as she rushed to the sink to hurl. She barely made it before she hurled out the content of her stomach, which only contained liquid. Her stomach continued to flip and contract as a few minutes past but there was nothing more to throw up.

Once it stopped, Quinn couldn't help but wonder how long this torment was going to proceed. Cursing the irresistible and delicious booze, she washed her mouth a few times before letting her arms rest on the edge of the sink with her head hanging. Huddled there, she regretted her fiercely consumption of the alcohol the night before. Somehow one bottle after the other had become empty, much quicker than the previous one as she had wanted to forget everything shitty little thing that had occurred during the last few days. Regrettably, it hadn't worked.

"Fuck this shit…!"

Before her thoughts could go back to why the hell she was there, Quinn washed her mouth and spit out the bitter taste once more and returned to the fallen chair. After lifting it up, she sat down on it, elbows resting on the table and the hands once again placed on her head and pressed on the temple. This was getting ridiculous! This hangover was one of the worst ones yet! She had had times where she had way more to drink, done drugs and had had less hours to sleep all the same night and she had been fine compared to this!

The grief, anger, and betrayal she had felt the night before had not vanished as she had hoped it would. It was still tormenting her underneath the heavy, yet throbbing head, the nausea and the exhaustion. She couldn't understand why it all bothered her so much. Normal people would have let it go by now, right? Or was this what normal was? If so, then how the hell did people continue living and not shoot their brains out?! Sure, she knew how to hold a grudge and payback and revenge was obvious! But that wasn't because of hurt feelings or emotions, –– it was because you don't let people take what's yours or let people think you're a pushover and weak. In her world you never showed weakness and this—whatever the hell she was doing right now, was nothing other than weakness! What she was feeling was weakness! It was something which would be exploited, and she couldn't have that!

It had happened when she had lived on the streets back on Earth. It had happened when she was a soldier. These kind of emotions only clouded your mind. Keeping people at a distance was easier. More natural.

It had only taken a couple of days for her life to turn into shit! This wasn't the first time, nor the second yet she had still been a fool to think she was untouchable this time. Although older, Quinn hadn't learned a thing. She was no wiser on how to deal with such a huge change in her life at the age of 24 than she was at the age of 13 when John had left her. Emotions running wild. Acting before thinking. Losing sight of what mattered, although this time, she had a worthy objective which so far, had kept her somewhat in line. She had always been known for being reckless, callous, and unwavering, yet for the moment, she didn't feel herself being any of that.

Quinn couldn't help but remember the first time it had happened. The first time her life had changed significantly. John had enlisted and had left her with a social worker after the second time she had been arrested after doing a petty crime. He hadn't even had the decency to tell her in person! He had just left! Feeling abandoned, the social worker had placed her in a foster family who had been more abusive and corrupt than the streets she had lived on. The hatred she felt from John's abandonment had intensified the longer she had been stuck in that violent, abusive, drug infested house until she couldn't distinguish between the hatred for his abandonment or at him. It had felt like he had plunged a large knife into her back after the first week he hadn't answered her mail, then it had only stabbed deeper and deeper as the weeks had turned into months and he had ignored all the mails, letters, and vids of her calling for help for the violent and sexual abuse she received. It had been the first and most defining moment in her life and she had only been thirteen years old. The bleeding and festering wound in her back had never truly healed and it had been the most important lesson she could ever have learned— never trust anyone and only look out for herself.

Naturally, she had broken that rule a few times. Hoping and desperate that the next person she had trusted would be different, but that hadn't been the case. Although only a handful of people had managed to creep through the cold and distant barrier she had put up during the years and she had somewhat learned to trust. Most of those people were now either dead or standing on the opposite side of the law.

The artificial sun crept through the artificial window and stung her sensitive eyes. She shielded them with the hands while rubbing her temple in small circles in hope that the headache would subside, but it seemed it was as stubborn as her.

"Damn it!" She cringed from her own loud voice before muttering in a lower tone; "I wouldn't have had this problem if I had been on that damned ship instead of this crappy apartment!"

Fine, the ship wouldn't have given her access to any alcohol, but at least she wouldn't be stuck in this fuckin apartment! Who the hell would pay to live in this fucking shoebox?! Apparently, her brother but he was a stupid fucking idiot! A fucking cell had been more comfortable! Well… maybe not. Either way, she had had no choice in the matter anyway!

A door opened and she heard said idiots' footsteps come closer. John walked into the kitchen and her mood soured instantly as she realized he had not stepped on the shattered beer bottle she had thrown on the bathroom door. Her peace and quiet was about to be ruined as she knew he would turn on his righteous boy-scout attitude any moment now.

"Still hungover?" He asked and she didn't miss the smugness in his tone, which by the way, was too loud for her liking.

In an attempt to ignore him, she closed her eyes and pretended she was anywhere else than there. If she didn't acknowledge him, then he didn't exist, right? But the sound of him moving about in the small kitchen was enough for her headache to know he was there and throbbed violently at each and every sound he made. When he grabbed the coffee pot, it sounded like a gunshot had gone off right next to her ears and when he poured the liquid into the cup, it sounded close to a raging waterfall. Her hands pressed against her ears in a desperate attempt to block the sounds.

"I'm not going away just because you ignore me."

"I can at least try…" she muttered with a low tone, then began to rub her temple once more.

"How's that working for you?"

"Go… away…!"

Couldn't he see she was in agony here? Maybe he enjoyed it? If so, then he was just as malicious as she. Didn't he understand how annoying his voice sounded at a regular basis?! And the sound of it now was excruciating! Why the hell did it have to be John who boarded that freaking ship?

John turned to her and leaned against the counter and she could feel his blue eyes on her as he took a sip from his blue mug. Soon the mocking tone followed; "That's all you got in you? No threats? No insults to go with it? Come one, where is that fighting spirit, you've shown me the last couple of days?"

Was he seriously taunting her right now? Did he really have a death wish? Growing even more irritated, she turned her angry stare at him from between her arms and with her mind, she ordered the coffee he was sipping so calmly to burn and choke him to death. Unfortunately, she had no such powers and cursed the limit of the biotic ability. Although she seriously considered to throw a ball of the dark energy at the mug to make it happen but went against it as she had no energy to summon it. Doing so now would only make her head explode!

"If you don't want to be a smear on the floor, then I suggest you either shut the fuck up, – or leave! –– Is that better?!" Even her own raised voice had her head nearly explode and she grunted from the pain as the hands returned to her temple.

"It's a start," he said and chuckled at her empty threat, knowing full well she was in no condition to do anything.

Another grunt followed as she grew even more annoyed at his presence and laid her head down against the table and welcomed the cold surface. "Kill me now…"

"Nah," he said simply. "That would be too easy."

She heard him put down the mug in the sink before washing it. It was pure torture! If she had the energy, she would have left without a second thought! Fuck that having to have an escort! Maybe she could get some peace and quiet if C-Sec were to arrest her? The thought was so tempting that she actually tried to put some weight on her legs, but she didn't get her ass more than a couple of inches over the chair before sitting back down.

After that failure, she snapped; "Stop making all that fucking noise!"

The sink was turned off and John left the kitchen. The lack of sound was welcoming but was soon ruined once more when John returned and threw an empty bottle into the trash, so hard it broke. Quinn jumped at the sound of shattering glass and her hands went to cover her ears as he continued to throw more bottles.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm cleaning up after you as you clearly not going to do it yourself.

"Why are you fucking torturing me?! Can't you see I'm in pain here?"

"I told you to leave the alcohol alone, but you didn't listen!"

"Those drinks were the only thing keeping me from murdering you in your sleep!" She roared and put as much loath into her tone as she could possibly master and glared at him with her furious stare. "You should be grateful I drank it all, because otherwise you would be dead by now!"

"Oh, quit it with the death treats already," John snapped, matching his tone with hers, and threw the last bottle into the trash harder than the rest. "We both know you wouldn't kill me even if you tried. You may hate me, but not that much."

"Are you so sure about that? You think being my – brother – would make you any different than anyone else I've killed?" The word "brother" was spoken with as much loath as she could possibly put into her voice.

"Yeah."

He actually sounded so sure about that. He really didn't understand how much she hated him and how badly she wanted him ridden from this galaxy. With anger and resentment filling her, she pushed herself off the chair and marched over to him, ignoring the unsteadiness in her steps.

"Then let me explain it very clearly to you so you'll get it through that thick skull of yours; –I hate you!" She got up in his face, staring him down hard. "If it weren't for the fact that I need you and your damned ship – then you wouldn't be alive right now. But I promise you the second after I've killed Saren and you cease to be of use to me, I'm coming after you with all I've got and you're going to wish I killed you right here and now!"

John didn't back down and stood his ground, looking down at her. He wasn't going to let her intimidate him. "We're just going to have to wait and see then, won't we."

Her eyes narrowed at his stupidity. She couldn't tell if he was just a fool or plain stupid. Maybe even both. Definitely both!

"You stink," he then said dismissively and pushed her away from him, making her stumble back. "You should take a shower. We leave in 10."

Having caught herself by grabbing on to the counter, she stared up at him with menacing eyes. As much as she wanted to continue the argument and show John who were the top dog of the two, she knew there were some fights she could win and some she couldn't. This were one of those she couldn't because of her current state and continuing the argument would only have her lose more energy of the little she actually had. Although she was stubborn like hell, she was no fool. If need be, she could play along as long as it suited her needs. He could have this one…

Pushing herself off the counter, she headed for the door.

"And I want my N7 hoodie back," he said sternly.

Not even bothering to turn to him, she spoke; "Then get me some damned cloths, cause I'm not wearing that Alliance get up ever again!"

That shower must have been way longer than 10 minutes, but damned how refreshing it had felt! Surprisingly, it had soothed most of her headache and the dizziness were practically gone when they exited the apartment. The two of them headed for the transport terminals and waited for the car to arrive.

"What's this?" John suddenly asked after being quiet ever since they left the apartment.

Quinn turned to him and saw him holding up an OSD. She looked at the small portable data storage device unit, then touched the pants pockets, only to remember she were not wearing her own cloths. "Oh, that… Where did you find it?"

"On the floor by the couch."

"Ah."

Getting rather annoyed by her dismissiveness, John asked again; "Where did you get this?"

Knowing he wouldn't drop it, she sighed loudly at him for being so bothersome. "I took it from that guy—" Her fingers snapped a couple of times as she tried to jog her memory of the name of the guy they had gone after the night before. Remembering people's names have never been her strong suit, let alone remembering the names of irrelevant people. "Em… Em… Fist!" Quite amazed by herself, her tone got a little lighter even though she got dismissive next. "Thought it could be worth something, but it's just a useless file of his corruptions. Nothing interesting now that he's dead."

After finishing her shrug, she felt his eyes on her. The dark expression on his face was enough to let her know he had not let go of what had happened at Chora's Den the night before but also that he was not pleased with her having looted the dead man's office.

"Oh, come on!" She couldn't believe he was about to make such a big deal about something so trivial as looting. She was a fucking pirate, and long before that a thief and street kid. That was how she had survived! That was how he had survived! "It's not like he's going to miss it!"

"No, because you killed him."

Her eyes rolled at that. Really? They were going to have this argument again? Fine! She got it! John was above killing! Come on, how many times do they have to have this conversation?

"Technically, I wasn't the one pulling the trigger."

"I don't care who pulled the trigger. The man is dead."

A mix of a sigh and a snort escaped her as she couldn't believe he was about to lecture her about killing the crooked bar owner once more. "Yeah, a crook. A fucking criminal. Why do you even care?"

"He may have been a crook, but he didn't deserve to die. He should have been turned in to the authorities."

"That's a bullshit answer!" Quinn dismissed and turned her head away as she waved in the air as if the answer would go away. "If I had let him go, then who to say he wasn't going to kill us after?"

The sky car finally arrived, and they got in. John naturally took the driver's seat, reminding her once more she was still on the leash. Before going back to the Normandy, John had agreed to let her go shopping for the essentials and they headed to one of the many shopping districts in the Zakera Ward.

As the car window lowered over their heads, Quinn added, irritation in her tone; "Honestly, John, you're not the only one who can evaluate a situation. I may be a criminal, but I haven't forgotten my military training. I was a commander too. My instincts told me to shoot the guy otherwise he would've taken the damned shot himself."

"As long as you're under my command, you're not going to kill people unnecessarily," John warned, his tone severe and left no room for disobedience.

"So what? I need to ask for your permission before I pull the trigger?" Quinn turned to look at him with an angry, yet disbelieving expression as he steered the flying vehicle. "That's sick!"

"I don't care what rank you once held. You're under my command and you're going to listen. If people shoot at you, you shoot back. I expect you to have that much of a common sense." He turned to look at her, his expression serious and with a commanding tone. "But you're not going to, in any circumstances kill anyone who doesn't pose an immediate threat to you or anyone else."

"You're basically saying I have to act like another one of your fucking goody-two-shoe scouts." The displeasure was evident in her voice and she didn't like that idea one bit. There were already enough of those on that ship and Quinn knew you couldn't go through life being the good guy all the fucking time! They always got kicked in the crotch one way or the other. "And what if I don't?"

"Then you can kiss everything you know goodbye."

"Yeah, like that isn't already happening," she spoke through clenched teeth and crossed her arms over her chest. The chances of her being able to walk away freely after all this was over, were slim if not nonexistent. "If you want to keep me in line, then I better damned get something out of it!"

John grew quiet for a moment, then asked quite suspiciously; "Like what exactly?"

"My account back."

Quinn had her severe eyes on her brother as he carefully considered her proposal.

"Fine," he said eventually, although not sounding too pleased about it. "I will gradually give you access to your account. A small sum for each mission well done."

"That sounds damn close to a fucking paycheck! With my own damned credits!"

"Yeah. Pretty much." John shrugged his shoulders.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" The anger was boiling inside of her.

John turned his head to look at her, his face just as serious as before. "If you want your money back, then I suggest you earn it. Not that it's yours to begin with. As I see it, you got it by selling Alliance property, then you going to work for the Alliance to get it back. Which means; don't kill anyone unnecessarily. Don't threaten to kill. Don't get into fights with the crew. And behave yourself!" He paused for a moment to let it all sink in. "You're going to be on an Alliance ship and those rules applies to you too."

The two stared at each other. Quinn could see in John's eyes that he wasn't going to falter and no matter how much she wanted to shoot him right there and then, she couldn't. She had no damned weapons on her! As much as she wanted to deny it, she was in no position to argue nor do anything about her situation. Even though she hated it, she had to accept she wasn't in charge anymore and had to obey this fucking Alliance monkey. At least for now… She had to remind herself again she was doing this to get to the one who had both bested her and killed Nihlus. That was what was important right now. Not this pissing contest with John. He would get what was coming to him later. She had to be patience.

Turning away from him, she muttered; "I should fucking kill you."

"That's a threat," he reprimanded her, although his tone had lightened up a bit as she had given in. He really enjoyed torturing her!

She couldn't help but snort loudly, then spoke with a clear, yet with a resentful tone; "I hate you!"

"At least you understand."

The car descended as they had reached their destination. As soon as the doors had opened, Quinn got out of the vehicle just to get some distance between her and John. She so desperately wanted to hit that smug face of his and as of now, she was even more restricted than before! Damned that idiot! Or maybe she was the fool for suggesting it in the first place?! As the anger and rage was building up, she punched the first pillar she saw as hard as she could without the use of her biotic just to release some of the rage. Having it building up wouldn't help her now no matter the deal she just made with John.

"Are you done?"

Just the sound of his voice had her boiling with rage once more and she hit the pillar again and again until the little energy she had, was wavering. Breathing heavily, she turned to her brother, who stood back and watched her with arms crossed over his chest with an unimpressed look. Although, he wasn't the only one who was watching her. People who walked by looked at her like she was crazy or something and tried to keep their distances.

Even though it was early in the morning, the ward was crowded and buys. Chatter, advertisements, and news announcements could be heard all over the district. All that noise were quickly overwhelming her already aching head, although it had gone to a bearable state, it was once more beginning to throb violently. It wasn't just the sounds that bothered her, but all the lights as well. Everything was to draw attention to it, whether it was a street sign, a shop, or just plain decorations. Everything was screaming – come here! See me! Buy me! Ugh, it was disgusting!

Without saying a word to John, she gave him a menacing stare before walking past him and headed for one of the first clothing stores she saw.

Within 30 minutes after arriving at the district, she had bought everything she needed. John had given her access to her bank account to pay for the stuff and then immediately after, had closed it before she could even think of doing anything about it. Even though John could access her account, he had explained to her that it wasn't only his authority needed to access it, but apparently another unnamed person needed to grant it as well. It was apparently a safeguard in case she tried to hack her way to it by using his persona. She had to admit he knew how to handle a criminal. If she were in his shoes, she wouldn't trust herself either.

Quinn walked out of the last store with her hands full of bags, when she spotted John stand with his back towards her and not too far away talking to a short-black-haired woman who got a rather exited expression on her face. Growing intrigued, she approached the two.

"Thank you so much, Shepard," the Asian woman exclaimed with a genuine bright smile on her lips. The woman looked down at her hands, which was holding something. Then she looked up at him once more before she was about to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should go see what's on these disks."

Seeing the familiar OSD disk in the woman's hand, Quinn dropped the bags in her hands and grabbed a firm hold on the woman's wrist. "Hey! That's mine!" She snapped the disk out of her hand before letting her go.

The woman, who was a bit shorter than Quinn, turned to her, her expression angry. But once the woman laid her eyes on her, the woman grew a bit pale, and panic settled in and stutter followed. "You… you—you're Quinn Shepard!" The woman took a step back as she recognized Quinn and looked like she was about to bolt or scream for help.

Ignoring the woman's panic, Quinn turned to John, who said with a calm tone; "You said it was useless to you."

"Apparently it's not!" Quinn exclaimed, realizing what the hell was going on. She turned to the Asian woman, her eyes narrowed and intimidating. "How much did you give him for it?"

"My name is Emily Wong. I'm a reporter—"

"I don't fucking care about your name! How much?"

The woman flinched before quickly telling how much she had bought it for. "200."

"Are you kidding me?" Quinn turned her severe eyes on John once more, who just shrugged innocently, before crossing his arms over his chest, "Do you even know what the hell you're selling? What it's worth?"

"I wasn't selling it. I gave it to her," John defended with a simple tone. "I don't extort people for corrupt information."

"So, she just gave you the money just for the cause of it?" Quinn asked, unconvinced.

"Yeah," he stated and shrugged his shoulders.

"Em, excuse me," the woman spoke, her tone had gained a bit more confidence. "If it's more money you want, I could give you 200 credits more."

Quinn turned to the woman, contemplating the offer as the woman opened up her omni-tool to make the transfer. But John stepped in and grabbed the OSD from her hand and gave it to the woman.

"No, it's alright," he told the woman before turning to Quinn, eying her sharply. "It's not like she can access the money anyway."

"What the hell—!"

The woman looked up at the pair, a bit uncertain to who to listen to. But as her eyes fell on Quinn, she decided to take John's word for it. "Well… okay." The woman closed her omni-tool.

"To make it up to you, what would my future cooperation be worth? Say, and interview when my investigation is over?" John asked.

The woman's face brightened instantly. "Exclusive? You talk to me before you talk to anyone else? That would be worth quite a bit, and I'd be very happy to compensate you accordingly!"

"Ugh, a reporter?" Quinn groaned in disgust. "I hate reporters!"

"Good. I'll see you then," John said and offered the woman a hand to shake on the deal.

The woman eagerly grabbed it, before she said; "Yes. I should go now and see what's on these disks." The she turned on her heels and left.

John watched her leave before he turned to do the same, only to be met with Quinn's furious stare. "What?"

"Those 200 credits are mine!" Quinn spoke fiercely, never letting her eyes leave his. "Give me my money, John!"

The threat in her tone was enough for her brother to take her seriously. Although he didn't back away like most people would whenever she was about to take what was rightfully hers with force. The people around them could feel the static from her biotic which was slipping from her and they watched the pair with weary eyes before they put some distance away from them. John kept her eye contact and seemed to contemplate on how to deal with the situation. But for Quinn, there was no other way to solve it than her getting the credits. With or without force.

With a serious expression, John said with a clear and simple tone; "Sure. When I feel like you earned them." Then he was about to walk past her.

Before he could, she grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "No. I want them – now!" Her teeth were clenched so hard, it almost felt like they were about to break.

He turned to her fully, his expression grim. "Have you already forgotten what we talked about in the car?" He paused for a second just to give her room to remember. "I'm the one in charge. You're not going to see a single credit if you keep this up." He shoved his wrist away from her grip, then he turned and headed towards the stairs which would lead him to the C-Sec Academy and the docking bay where the Normandy was currently docked. She watched him go and her expression darkened as the hatred for him grew deeper. Breathing sharply, she tried to suffocate the ever-growing urge to kill the man, but no matter how hard she tried to extinguish it, it only hit her harder each time. She threw a handful of her biotic at a wall next to John, which hit and exploded. Although there was barley any damage done to it, revealing she still hadn't recovered, nor eaten anything to put any punch into it.

As they headed to the C-Sec Academy, there had been no interruptions of people needing help with anything. That or those who needed it felt the murderous intentions illuminating from her as she followed her leash and didn't dare to approach the pair. Whatever the reason, it at least proved that not all people on this colossus space station were incompetent fools. As soon as they entered the Academy, there were C-Sec Officer crawling everywhere and no matter which direction she turned, she found eyes staring at her, watching her like vultures waiting for the pray to get far enough away from its protector to launch for the kill. A satisfied smile crawled upon her lips as she knew they were itching to arrest her.

John was about to turn to the elevator bringing them to the Alliance Docking Bay when Quinn turned to the left to head to the offices.

"Hey! Where are you going?" John asked, revealing in his tone, he was still annoyed with her.

Looking over her shoulder, she said; "I have something to deliver." She didn't elaborate as she knew he would follow when the curiosity would take a hold, so she continued up the stairs and into the lion's den.

During the shopping trip, unnoticed to John, she had gone back to the booth where she had stashed the weapon mod she had gotten for the C-Sec Officer who had threatened her they day before. She had been right about the salarian seller – he had not dared to do anything about the crate and had happily handed it over.

"You have something to deliver at C-Sec?" John asked with skepticism as he followed her. "For real?"

She turned the corner and headed into the same office she had been in the day before. There she found the same turian, who sat in his chair behind the desk like he hadn't even moved since the day before. His desk was filled with dossiers and he was looking between them and the console in front of him in deep concentration, not noticing her at all. Either he was way too busy, or he was not good at noticing his surroundings which in her opinion, made him a bad law enforcer.

She walked straight up to the desk, only dropping the many bags in her hands when she had reached the desk and placed the crate, she had fished out of one of them and placed it in front of him, startling him a bit.

"Here's your shipment."

The turian Officer looked at the crate, surprised for a second and reached to touch it like he couldn't believe it was actually there. Then he looked up at her with a satisfied expression, although Quinn was sure not many humans could distinguish one turian expression from the other. It was quite the skill to read that race…

"Exellent. This is everything I need," he said, his tone much easier to read. He opened the crate and looked down at the parts. "Hmm… maybe more than I need." He grabbed one of the mods and reached it out for her to take. "Here, take this. I won't need it and you've actually earned some payment. I didn't think you would do it."

Quinn grabbed the Pistol Magazine Upgrade and turned it over in her hand, before looking down at the turian with a skeptical expression. "I prefer my payment in credits. But I guess this will do. And our deal?" She crossed her arms under her breasts, letting him know they weren't done yet.

"I appreciate your help," the turian said as he stood up and took the crate filled with the mods, then looked up and said; "Ah, Commander Shepard. I'm Detective Chellick."

Quinn turned to her brother who entered the office and couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course, he couldn't just wait outside.

"Detective," John greeted before turning his eyes on the crate and then to the mod she was holding with suspicious eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Quinn dismissed sharply, but bit her tongue as she knew now that he wouldn't let it go.

John crossed his arms over his chest to let them both know; he wasn't going to drop it. He turned to look at the turian which would be more willing to explain than she, and of course, he did just that and she couldn't help but groan in frustration.

"Quinn here helped me with a job."

John turned to her, disbelief in his eyes, which she met whit a shrug, then he turned back to the Officer. "I'm guessing it had something to do with these?" He motioned to the mods. "What did you offer her in return? Cause she clearly wouldn't help you from the goodness of her heart."

"Why not? You're not the only one who can be a good boy scout," she snorted, pretending to be offended, but inwardly she cursed at his accurate suspicion.

"I told her I could help her have a less problem with C-Sec," the man said honestly, ruining it all.

"You did what?!" John exclaimed. "Why would you do that? She's a criminal. A killer and you want to give her more opportunities to murder people? What the hell were you thinking?"

"It's not like I kill just for the cause of it," Quinn chipped in, but was ignored.

"I saw an opportunity to further my investigation and I took it. This job isn't easy and it's usually unpleasant. I'll take help anywhere I can find it."

"And you think promising a criminal more freedom is the way to do it? I say that's a very corrupt way of doing your job."

"We have access to some of the most sophisticated weaponry there is. It's what gives us our edge. What do you suppose happens when we lose that edge?" The Officer asked, his tone growing angry. "These give criminals an advantage we can't afford to let them keep. If I have to do some shady stuff to prevent that, then so be it."

"I can see what you're trying to do, but you're a smart guy, Chellick. Figure out another way to do your job." The tone in John's voice grew hard and neither Quinn nor Chellick missed the threat lying underneath.

The turian looked down at the mods in his hands as he contemplated his actions. Then he looked up at her brother and said; "You're right, Commander. Now, I need to get these mods into evidence. Thanks again." He nodded a grateful head to John before he walked out of his office with the crate.

Once the officer had left the room, John turned to Quinn with a grim look. Knowing he was about to lecture her once more, she scoffed loudly, picked up her bags from the floor and turned on her heel before he could open his big mouth. Once again, he had ruined things for her! What the hell was this? Make Quinn's life a misery?! What the hell was his problem?!

"Really, Quinn?" He asked, his tone just as grim as before as he followed her out. "You think I wouldn't know about this deal?"

"Well, I had hoped it would take some time before you did, not that you would fuck the whole thing up!" She roared back over her shoulder.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" He demanded angry.

Quinn stopped suddenly and turned to face him, her own expression twisted and angry. "No, I'm not. You see, 3 days ago I was free doing my own fucking shit as I saw fit. Now I'm on a fucking leash, forced to follow orders from an Alliance rat. If I can make your damned life a living hell like you done to mine, then I'm fucking hell gonna do it!" Her shouting gained the attention of the many Officers in the area. Turning on her heel once more, she threw a group of them a murderous look. "What the hell are you staring at?!" Then left the office area.

As soon as the elevator door opened, Quinn quickly left it as she wanted to gain as much distance from John as she possibly could. As she entered the Docking Bay, she spotted Anderson and the politician scumbag Udina standing on the ramp, talking. As soon as she spotted the Ambassador's face, she felt the urge to punch that man's smug face in and being angry already wasn't helping to prevent the urge to take place. But damned how she wished he would give her a legitimate reason to do it!

"I've got news for you, Shepard," the Ambassador said the second they took notice of the siblings. "Captain Anderson is stepping down as commanding officer of the Normandy. The ship is yours now."

Coming at a stop in front of the two men, Quinn was shocked by that announcement and looked at Anderson in disbelief. Why would he do that when he knew he was the only one she actually listened to on that damned ship? It didn't make any sense.

"She's quick and quiet and you know the crew," Anderson said to John who came to a stop next to her. "Perfect ship for a Spectre. Treat her well, Commander."

Sounding a bit surprised himself, John answered with a bit of a hesitation; "I'll take good care of her, sir."

"I know you will, Commander."

The encouragement in the Captain's tone wasn't legit and Quinn knew there was something not right here. Feeling her anger about to explode, Quinn demanded; "This isn't right! The ship belongs to you!"

There was no way Anderson would give this ship up for no apparent reason! There was something more to it than that and she just knew the damned Ambassador had something to do with it!

Like he had expected this reaction from her, Anderson looked at her with a calm expression, but his tone was firm as he explained; "John needs his own ship." Then he turned to her brother as he continued; "A Spectre can't answer to anyone but the Council." His gaze fell back on her. "And it's time for me to step down."

"The hell it is!" She shouted and took a step closer to the Captain. "You expect me to listen to this idiot?!" She threw her hand back to point at John, nearly slapping him in the face in the process. "You're not retiring of your own free will." She turned her hard eyes to the Ambassador, her finger following suit. "This asshole—" She turned her eyes to Anderson- "—is making you step down for some fucking reason and I want to know what the hell that is!"

Anderson looked into her eyes and saw there was no room for anything else than the truth. He exhaled in defeat, his shoulders sinking some as he did so. He knew the pirate well enough to know she wouldn't budge until she got the answer she was looking for. "I was in John's shoes 20 years go," he began. "They were considering me for the Spectres."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but a second later, they narrowed in anger. "Why the hell haven't you ever mentioned this before?"

"What was I supposed to say? "I could've been a Spectre but I blew it?" I failed, Quinn. It's not something I'm proud of," he said, anger and regret in his tone as he looked down at his feet for a moment, then he looked back up at her and said; "Ask me later and I'll tell you the whole story. For now—" he cast an eye to John as well, before returning it to her. "—all you need to know is I was sent on a mission with Saren, and he made sure the Council rejected me." There was bitterness in his tone, and he did not try to hide it. "I had my shot. It came and went." He turned to John as he continued. "Now you have a chance to make up for my mistakes."

"I won't let you down, sir," John said with confidence in his tone.

Quinn on the other hand, had a hard time accepting this decision. She had only agreed to take orders from John because she knew he had not been the highest in command on the ship. Now it all changed. The deal she had was with Anderson and not John. Her hard eyes lingered on the Captain, letting him know she wasn't pleased at all.

"Saren's gone. Don't even try to find him," Anderson said, ignoring her stare. "But we know what he's after; the Conduit. He's got his geth scouring the Traverse looking for clues."

"We had reports of the geth in the Feros system shortly before our colony there dropped out of contact. And there have been sightings around Noveria," the Ambassador explained to John, ignoring her presence.

"Find out what Saren was after on Feros and Noveria," Anderson continued. "Maybe you can figure out where the Conduit is before he does."

"The Reapers are the real threat," John reminded them firmly.

"I'm with the Council on this one, Shepard," Udina was quick to answer, his tone revealing his skepticism of the Reaper threat. "I'm not sure they even exist."

Anderson turned to the Ambassador as he said; "But if they do exist, the Conduit's the key to bring them back." He turned to John again. "Stop Saren from getting the Conduit and we stop the Reapers from returning."

"I'll kill him," Quinn assured them all, menace in her tone. To hell with the Reapers. It was Saren she wanted!

Anderson turned his eyes to her and saw the determination in her eyes. It wasn't just a mere threat, but a promise. He may not know the reason why she was so determined to find the rouge turian Spectre, but he could see it was important to her. For her to work with the Alliance to get to him, was enough for Anderson to understand that. Hopefully, this would be a path for her to change her ways once again, although it would never change what she had done.

"We have one more lead," the Ambassador said, gaining everyone's attention. "Matriarch Benezia, the other voice on that recording? She had a daughter, a scientist who specializes in the Protheans. We don't know if she's involved but it might be a good idea to try and find her. See what she knows. Her name is Liara. Dr. Liara T'Soni. We have reports she was exploring an archeological dig on one of the uncharted worlds in the Artemis Tau cluster."

John contemplated the different leads carefully. But to Quinn, it was obvious. Go find the damned daughter and make her tell them what she knew about her mother and Saren! She should know where her mother was at, right? Isn't that how it is when you have parents?

"The colonists on Feros might still be alive," John said then, letting them know he had made his decision on where to go first.

"No!" Quinn shouted and turned to him. "We're going to find that daughter! She may know where her mother is! Who can tell us where Saren is!"

"Yeah, sure, we could do that. But what about those colonists on Feros? If the geth are there, then they're going to kill all those people just like they did on Eden Prime," John insisted firmly. Always acting like a fucking hero…

"Well, fuck them! People die all the time!" She snapped at him. "Saren's our only objective. Find him and kill him! Not saving every fucking idiot out in the galaxy."

Before it could become a full fledge argument, Anderson stepped in and said; "It's your decision, Commander. You're a Spectre now. You don't answer to us." Speaking the last part, he looked at her with a severe expression, which had her roll her eyes and take a step back. He still knew how to handle her…

"But your actions still reflect on humanity as a whole," Udina spoke strongly. "You make a mess and I get stuck cleaning it up." Although he made it sound like he was talking to John, he kept his firm stare on the pirate, letting her know it was mostly her it applied to. He just knew the pirate would do something which would make his job a whole lot more difficult.

"We'll try not to make thinks any harder on you, Ambassador," John answered, his tone reassuring but he threw Quinn a warning glance too.

Feeling put on the spot, Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away as she muttered angry; "No promises."

"Glad to hear it, Commander." The Ambassador's eyes lingered on her for a little while longer, yet ignoring her comment, then turned to John once more. "Remember; you were a human long before you were a Spectre." The man paused for a moment to let that sink in, then he turned to Anderson and said; "I have a meeting to get to. Captain Anderson can answer any questions you might have." Then he walked past them and headed for the elevator.

As soon as the Ambassador had excused himself, John turned to Anderson and asked; "How are you holding up?"

Quinn turned her eyes to him, curious about the answer to that question as well.

Anderson turned his gaze down, disappointment in his eyes. "Honestly? This isn't how I pictured my career coming to an end. Pushing papers really isn't my thing." The man paused for a second, and shook his head, then looked up at the two, his tone holding more faith. "But you're the ones who can stop Saren. I believe in you two. If that means I have to step aside, so be it."

"I want to know the truth about you and Saren. The mission the two of you had together all those years ago," Quinn demanded, her tone despiteful and harsh. "Why you were turned down as a Spectre candidate."

"It's closer to 20 years ago now," Anderson said, his tone calm. "Ambassador Goyle was our reprehensive here on the Citadel. Like Udina, she wanted to get a human into the Spectres. She chose me." He looked down for a moment as he remembered what had happened and paused for a second. "The Council sent Saren to keep an eye on me and evaluate my performance." He turned to John. "Just like they sent Nihlus to keep tabs on you."

The mentioning of the name had pain struck inside of her and a tightening in her throat appeared suddenly. She tried to swallow it, but it persisted. Then it all shifted to anger as she realized he had withheld information from her. "You lied to me!" She spat, remembering their conversation after she had woken up after being hit by the beacon.

Anderson hung his head in shame. "It's not something I'm proud of. I had a chance to become the first human Spectre and I failed. Saren made sure of that."

John crossed his arms over his chest as he said with a disappointed tone; "I think we deserve the whole story."

Anderson gave away a deep sigh before telling them. "We had intel on a rogue scientist being funded by bataian interests. He was trying to set up a facility to develop illegal AI technology out in the Verge. Alliance intel had done all the work, but the Council wanted a Spectre involved. We compromised: I was assigned to help Saren in his investigation. We tracked the scientist to a refining facility on Camala. He was hidden away somewhere inside, protected by an army of batarian mercenaries. The plan was simple: sneak into the plant, capture the scientist, sneak back out. Quick, quiet, and a minimum of bloodshed."

"I'm guessing things didn't go as planned," John stated.

"Saren and I split up to cover more ground. Then, about halfway through the mission, there was a massive explosion in the refinery core." Anderson's tone grew tenser. "Officially, it was an accident. But I think Saren detonated it on purpose to draw off the enemy guards."

"He was smart," she commented. "You needed a diversion."

Anderson snapped at her; "This went beyond a simple diversion."

"How many casualties?" John asked, clearly only thinking of the victims.

Anderson lowered his gaze in regret. "The explosion tore the refinery to shreds." His tone was filled with guilt. "The whole place was on fire. Black chemical clouds poured out into the atmosphere. Nobody survived." He paused for a moment. "There was a camp for the workers and their families nearby. Between the fires and the toxic fumes, the final death count was over five hundred. Mostly civilians." His tone grew hard. Resentful, even. "Saren didn't care. The target was eliminated. Mission accomplished. And I ended up taking the blame. That ended all talk of me joining the Spectres."

"Saren cause the explosion. How'd he pin it on you?" John asked, his tone filled with resentment for the rouge Spectre.

Anderson turned and began to walk back and forth in frustration. His hands clenched and unclenched a few times. "In his report, Saren accused me of blowing his cover. He said it was my fault the guards were ready for us. He claimed that's why it turned into a massacre." He stopped with his back to them and spoke over his shoulder; "Saren's report was all the proof the Council needed to kill my chances of becoming a Spectre."

"Why'd you let him get away with it?" She asked, her tone accusing.

He turned around and snapped; "Who do you think the Council was going to listen to? Me or their best agent?" He looked down once more. "I had a bad feeling about him right from the start. I should've been more careful. Maybe I could have stopped things before they got out of hand."

Anger and resentment were building up for her former Captain and it was about to boil over. "You should have fought harder! Made sure they listened to you! If you had, then we wouldn't fucking be in this situation right now!"

Not being able to stand the sight of the Captain any longer, she pushed past the two men and stormed towards the ship. She blamed him for everything that had happened. For Nihlus' death, for Saren working with the geth and for her being in the fucking middle of it all! If he had done his fucking job right 20 years ago to begin with, then this wouldn't be happening! Fuck that man! Fuck him for lying to her! Fuck him for making her believe in him!

---

**John's POV

John watched the pirate storm off towards the Normandy and couldn't help but shake his head at her anger. It amazed him how her temper could spike so suddenly, but in all fairness to the Captain, she had been short tempered all morning and the way he had decided to wake her up, was one of the many factors to her sour attitude. Although from the many empty bottles she had left behind, he couldn't see anyone be any other way afterwards. Although she had put up a brave front, he could clearly see in her steps that the hangover was still bothering her.

John turned to the Captain and said; "Don't blame yourself, sir," in an attempt to reassure the man, who looked a bit taken from her accusation.

Anderson's eyes lingered on the pirate for a little second longer as he said; "I don't." Then turned his eyes to John's. "I blame Saren. I think he wanted things to go bad. He was looking for an excuse to blow that refinery. Maybe he just likes the violence." Anderson threw one last look at Quinn, who disappeared behind the ship's door, then back to John. "Maybe he was just trying to make me look bad to keep humans out of the Spectre. If so, he pulled it off."

John took that to mind. Then he turned to the Normandy as he said; "I should go before Quinn decides to take off with the ship."

Anderson gave a short laugh, but they both knew that the possibility of that transpiring was actually real. He reached out a hand to John to shake it as he said; "I'll be here if you need anything."

John shook the offered hand before he turned to walk onto the ship, only stopping a few steps away as he thought of something regarding the pirate. He turned to the Captain once more as he asked; "Any tips on how I should handle that hothead?"

The man's mouth twitched into a small smile before he spoke, his tone gentle; "Your sister may be difficult to handle, but deep down she's a good woman. Doesn't like to be told what to do, as you already know."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

"Just hear her out once in a while."

John considered the advice and stored it in the back of his mind. "Thanks. I'll try."

Then he turned and boarded the Normandy – his ship… He had a hard time comprehend it and for a moment, he felt nervous. It had always been a boy dream of his to have his own ship, his own crew but he hadn't expected it would happen so soon. He had thought he would be much older, more experienced… More deserving. Although it had yet to sink in fully, he was now a Spectre. The first human Spectre of all things! Although not much different from being a soldier, he now had the authority to do much more for both humanity and the galaxy. It felt surreal and the pressure was real. He had better step up because there was no room for failure! Humanity depended on it. The whole freaking galaxy depended on it! What was going to happened – he had no idea, but he didn't delude himself in thinking it would be an easy task.

Before the nervousness could take a firm hold in his stomach, he pushed them away and entered the bridge, walking tall and with confidence to where his pilot was waiting, ready and eager for the order of takeoff.

Placing a hand on the top of the pilot chair, he asked; "Is everyone on board?"

"Yes. You and the pirate were the last ones," Joker answered.

"Good."

"I heard what happened to Captain Anderson," Joker then said, his tone a bit low and apologetic. "Survives a hundred battles and then gets taken down by backroom politics." He turned to look up at John, his tone stronger. "Just watch your back, Commander. Things go bad on this mission, you're next on their chopping block." The he sat back in his seat once more, waiting for the clearance to undock.

Still feeling guilt, John spoke the truth; "Captain Anderson should be the one in charge. It's like I'm stealing the ship from him."

Joker looked up at him once more, trying to reassure him. "Yeah, the Captain got screwed. But it's not like you could've stopped it. Nobody's blaming you. Everyone on this ship is behind you, Commander. One hundred percent."

Revealed to hear his crew had faith in him, John still wasn't fully convinced he had deserved this. At least not the way it had gone down. Anderson was a great captain and had inspired a lot of loyalty and trust. John could only hope he inspire at least half of what that great man had under his own command.

"Everyone?" He asked skeptically and a small chuckle escaped him as he thought of the pirate.

"Well…" Joker said, his tone light which followed with his own chuckle. "99 percent then. But who needs that 1 percent anyway? It's not like that one could do much damage."

John raised an eyebrow at that. "Are you so sure about that?"

"No. But someone have to look at it from the bright side." Joker paused for a moment, then pressed on some buttons and said; "Intercome's open. If you've got anything you want to say to the crew, now's the time."

He thought for a moment what he would like to say. As the new commander of the ship, he had to be a leader they would be proud to serve under. He wanted to inspire and drive them to their absolute best, and he hoped they would do the same for him. He was no fool to believe he could do this himself. They were his team, his crew, and no matter what part they had in this mission, they were all there together, fighting!

Having decided, he leaned closer to the receiver and spoke, his tone strong and confident; "This is Commander Shepard speaking. We have our orders; find Saren before he finds the conduit. I won't lie to you, crew. This mission isn't going to be easy." He paused for a moment, letting the severity of the mission sink in. "For too long our species has stood apart from the others. Now it's time for us to step up and do our part for the rest of the galaxy! Time to show them what humans are made of! Our enemy knows we're coming. When we go into the Traverse, Saren's followers will be waiting for us. But we'll be waiting for them, too." He paused once more and carefully considered what he wanted to say next. "Humanity needs to do this. Not just for our own sake, but for the sake of every other species in Citadel Space. Saren must be stopped, and I promise you all… we will stop him!"

And he would make good on that promise. He had to!

"Well said, Commander," Joker praised once he had finished. "Captain would be proud."

Straightening himself up, John looked out through the hull, not seeing the walls of the docking bay, nor the Citadel, but the mission ahead. His tone was serious when he spoke. "The Captain gave up everything so I could have this chance." He turned around and headed down the bridge towards the CIC. "We can't fail."

"Yes, sir!"

"Set course for Feros, Joker."

"Aye aye, Commander."

John walked off the Cockpit and deeper into the ship. Everyone in the CIC were heading for their stations and quickly getting to work, doing what they do best. Although being their Commander, he moved out of the way as they went to their stations, as he felt being in the way. As for himself, he couldn't do much more than he had already done for the moment. So, he decided to check on the newest members to the crew to see if they had settled in nicely. Especially the aliens as he could imagine it would be an adjustment to be on a human ship. As he walked alongside the galaxy map, he felt the ship's engine power up for departure and it still amazed him that he could barely feel the ship move. If it were because of the ship's technology or his pilot, he wasn't so sure as both were remarkable.

Heading for the stairs to the second deck, he spotted Quinn lean against the wall, her arms crossed and looked at him with a smug expression on her face. He just knew by that expression; she was about to throw him a nasty remark.

"Nice speech, John. Really. It was." Quinn said, her tone awestruck and then patted the edge of her palm with the other, before seeming to struggle to find her next choice of words. "Now, how do I say this nicely enough?" Her eyes met his, and her tone grew mocking. "It was weak—"

Knowing from the start that the pirate wasn't going to say something nice, he only rolled his eyes at her and walked past her, hoping the pirate would lose interest and stop follow him if he didn't engage with her. But of course, that hope was crushed as she indeed did. And even more crushing, she wasn't done with her little speech.

"—not at all inspiring. A bit of a cliché. Totally lack of feeling. It should have been more like this— "The Council wants to ignore this. That's no surprise. They never helped us in the past; no reason they'd start now. But we don't need their help. We can do this on our own! Wherever Saren goes, we'll follow. Wherever he searches for the Conduit, we'll be there. We will hunt him to the very end of the galaxy and bring him down!" –Now that would be a good speech!"

John walked up to the elevator which was already at the deck and entered it. A loud and annoyed sigh escaped him as she followed him in, and he pressed the button to the lowest deck. He had to keep reminding himself not to let her get to him. Although it was getting harder to do. Each word was meant to annoy him. Each remark was supposed to get to him. And what irritated him the most was that she was deliberately out to annoy him so that she could make him argue. The advice Captain Anderson had given him was still fresh in his mind, yet he couldn't see how he was supposed to follow it.

The elevator door closed before starting its' descend and Quinn was far from done.

"Do you honestly believe anyone would buy that "get together" crap when in fact, you don't believe in it yourself?"

Exhaling deeply and loudly again, he turned his eyes to her as he asked; "What's your problem now?" Maybe if he asked, she would then leave him alone.

She stared back at him, her expression hard. "Fancy speeches won't stop Saren from finding the Conduit. Nor will going to a random colony with old dusty ruins."

Leaning against the wall, he said, his tone strong and unwavering; "I told you already, we're going to Feros."

Seeing her eyes darken from that answer, she nearly shouted, only her tone wavered as she couldn't remember the name; "This— daughter–person – might know something about Saren and his whereabouts! Why can't you see that's where we need to go?! That's why we're even doing this! To kill that son of a bitch!"

"No." He returned; his own voice forceful. "We're going to stop Saren! We're not going to kill him if not absolutely necessary." He let his eyes linger on hers, letting her know he was sincere about that. Had she already forgotten about their talk about not killing people? Or was it that she thought that agreement hadn't concerned the rouge Spectre as well? "And I'm not going to let innocent people die because of him either. We're going to Feros and that's final!"

Seeing her eyes twitch, she then roared; "People die all the fucking time. Whether you're there to save them or not." The way she said it made him think she wasn't only talking about this. "More people will die if we don't find Saren. Are you really willing to risk that to go to a forsaken colony whose people most likely is already dead?"

"We don't know that until we've gotten there and seen it with our own eyes," John pushed, knowing that she didn't care about anyone else's death that Saren's. "I won't let another colony be killed by the geth if I can stop it. Besides, we don't know if this Liara know anything anyways."

"So, your plan is to go everywhere the fucking geth goes? How smart is that?"

"I already—"

"That means we're always going to be one fucking step behind the geth! And what about Saren? He's going to find the damned Conduit long before you even know where to find him!"

"I promise you, we're going to stop Saren," he said, his tone strong but sincere. He had no plan whatsoever to let Saren get away with this. But he couldn't stop helping people just because of that. Why couldn't she see that? She was way to occupied in getting her hands on Saren to see anything else clearly!

Grunting in frustration, Quinn turned her back to him and threw her arms up in the air in frustration. "Ah! Why are you so fucking stupid?!" She turned back to face him. "Saren. Is. The. Only. One. Who matters! What the fuck is so fucking hard to understand about that?"

John crossed his arms over his chest as he was beginning to feel angry. He looked at her with hard eyes as he asked; "Let me ask you this, Quinn; why are you so hell bent on killing Saren? What did he do to make you so damned obsessed?"

The question stunned her for a moment, then her eyes hardened, and she just stared at him in silence as her mouth clenched shut. It was a question he had wanted to know ever since she woke up from being hit by the beacon. Although he didn't know her anymore, he could still see the change in her. Her whole crew had been killed in front of her on that Alliance freighter, yet she had seemed unfazed by that. But after Eden Prime, she had only had one thought in her mind and that was to get her hands on the rouge Spectre. He could see the anger, the rage, the pain, but underneath it all there was something else which he couldn't describe. Or maybe he just didn't understand it. No matter how much he tried to wrap his head around what had occurred on that planet, he couldn't understand her reasons. The fact that Quinn had known Nihlus had been obvious. But there was more to it than that.

"Is it because of Nihlus?" He asked, and he knew he had hit the mark when her stare wavered and fell to the side. Her hands clenched into tight balls, her shoulders stiffen and jaw rigid, then her eyes shot back to his, a darker shade had taken place, letting him know he was threading on thin ice and she wouldn't hesitate to act on it. But he needed to know. "You knew each other. What was he to you?"

"Why is that any of your business?"

Her eyes stayed on his, trying to read his motive behind the question. But when she didn't find what she was looking for, her gaze was cast down as if he looked into her eyes too long, he would find the answer he was looking for. And indeed, he did. Taking in her whole posture and demeanor, John realized Quinn had actually cared for the dead turian. Now it all made sense. She wanted revenge for his death! Shocked at this revelation, he stared at her and saw someone who was hurting. Grieving… Remembering what the dockworker on Eden Prime had told them, he now understood her actions a little better. Seeing someone you cared about be executed in front of you, it would damage even someone as cold as this pirate.

As much as he felt sympathy for her pain, he couldn't have her continuing go berserk and act before thinking. That would endanger both herself and the rest of the crew. He needed the people around him to be levelheaded and ready for anything. She was distracted and emotional. Only thinking of one thing and that would make her dangerous and unpredictable out on missions. It didn't leave him much of a choice and he knew she would fight him on it, but it had to be done.

"I'm going to bench you until you're stable," he declared as the elevator came to a stop and the door opened.

"What?!" She snapped her head up and her eyes turned to him.

He stepped off the elevator and into the lowest deck. There he could see Vakarian stand beside the Mako, tending to it. Williams standing on the opposite side of the large space, next to the lockers, seeming to tend to a sniper rifle from where he stood, but he wasn't sure. And the krogan, Wrex stand on the opposite side of the lockers and closer to the elevator, seeming to just observe what the turian and the female human was doing.

"You're not benching me!" Quinn nearly shouted, her anger rising which brought everyone's attention to them.

John turned on his heels as he reprimanded; "I have a job to do and you're compromising it as long as you're unstable. Get your act together, because I refuse to be your punching bag!" Then walked off.

"Then you should fucking do what I say and go where I want you to go!" She roared, loud enough for all in the hold to hear as she followed him.

He felt his own anger about to slip, but he couldn't stoop to her childlike level. A sharp inhale was all he could manage. He was so tired of having the same conversation with this annoying woman that he actually considered to throw her out of the air lock! But he couldn't let her win and definitely not in front of his crew! So, he stopped abruptly in the middle of the cargo hold, turned around to face her and roared with as much authority he could master; "You're not the one in charge, Quinn! If I say we go to Feros – we go to Feros. End. Of. Discussion!"

He turned on his heel and continued to walk. But the firm footsteps behind him told him he wasn't done with her yet. Why the hell did she have to be so stubborn?! Was this how she had been in the military too? How the hell did her superiors tolerate her?! Was this how she had climbed in rank? Everyone she was stationed under must have been driven insane by her constant pestering, which must have left the position opened and no one than her to fill because no one could stand her! Or was this the payback for this morning? If so, where the hell were the time machine to bring him back to that moment and stop himself! He honestly didn't understand it!

"This discussion isn't over until you realize you're a fucking idiot!"

About to reach his limit, he tried to change tactics before he exploded. If he couldn't tell her off, then maybe agree with her some… He called over his shoulder; "Fine, I'm an idiot. Now drop it!"

"Going to Feros is a mistake!"

Desperate to get out of this endless argument, he laid eyes on the closest person, who happened to be Vakarian. If he engaged in a conversation with someone else, then maybe Quinn would realize she wouldn't get her way and leave? All he could do was hope, but he felt a little sorry for the turian as the chances where the pirate would continue and drag him into it as well.

Standing at the console next to the Mako, Vakarian seemed to be focusing entirely on his work. However, he heard the two approach and turned just as John said;

"Vakarian. Settled in, okay?"

Vakarians' eyes immediately went to the pirate behind him before looking back at John and said; "Yes. Thank you for bringing me on board, Commander." He could detect the gratefulness in the turian's tone. "I knew working with a Spectre would be better than life in C-Sec."

John felt the strong eyes on the back of his neck but giving it any thought would have the pirate see an opening and attack once more. He couldn't have that and asked the turian; "Have you worked with a Spectre before?"

"Well, no. But I know what they're like," Vakarian answered. "Spectre makes their own rules. You're free to handle things your way. At C-Sec you're buried by ruled. The damn bureaucrats are always on your back."

"For the most part, the rules are there for a reason," John said, feeling a bit uneased of what he had just been told.

"Maybe," Vakarian said, not sounding too convinced. "But sometimes if feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work. If I'm trying to take down a suspect, it shouldn't matter how I do it, as long as I do it."

Although John couldn't read turian facial expressions, if they even had any, he could read tones. And Vakarian sounded bitter. Or maybe just inexperienced and too eager to get the job done no matter the cost. That didn't sit right with him.

"You're not getting anywhere following the rules," Quinn said suddenly and stepped up next to John, her arms crossed under her breasts as she had her eyes on Vakarian. "If you want to get anywhere, you do what you have to." She shot her eyes at John.

The turian turned his gaze to the pirate before returning them to John as he continued; "But C-Sec wants it done their way. Protocol and procedure come first. That's why I left."

"So you just quit because you didn't like the way they do things?" John questioned, not liking where this was going.

Quinn on the other hand, seemed to be thrilled. "What's wrong with that?" She asked as her eyes landed on him. "Not everyone can be such a paragon like you. Nor would want to."

"There's more to it than that," Vakarian said. "It didn't start out bad, but as I rose in ranks, I got saddled with more and more red tape. C-Sec's handling of Saren was typical. I just couldn't take it anymore." He lowered his head in shame. "I hate leaving…"

Seeing where he was coming from, John could understand him wanting to leave. Knowing more than what the evidence was showing… it must have been frustrating. But still, even though John was now a Spectre, it didn't give him the right to do anything he wanted! Of course, he wants to stop Saren and the Reapers, but he couldn't see himself doing so by breaking rules and let people get killed. Of course, he would make the tough decisions if it came to that and he would do it if absolutely necessary, but he would look for any other solution before even going there!

"I hope you made the right choice. I'd hate for you to regret it later," John said honestly.

"Well, that's sort of why I teamed up with you. It's a chance for me to get off the Citadel, see how things are done outside C-Sec."

"You did the right thing, Face-Paint. Life's too short to sit around waiting for things to happen," Quinn said then eyed John with a meaningful stare.

"Face-Paint?" John questioned, a bit offended on Vakarian's behalf, who didn't seem to care. After all, he had been an officer and was probably used to a whole variety of nasty and rude nicknames.

"Either way, I plan to make the most of this. And without C-Sec headquarters over my shoulder, well, maybe I can get the job done my way for a change," the turian continued.

"Sounds good to me," Quinn said, rather approvingly.

"If getting the job done means endangering innocent people, then, no," John said, his tone firm and severe. It was enough he had one ruthless person with him. He refused to have two! "We get the job done right, not fast. Got it?"

Taken back a little, Vakarian began to say; "I wasn't trying to—" then changed his demeanor and hung his head a little in shame as he said; "—I understand, Commander."

John let his eyes stay on the turian a little while longer, hoping what he had said was sinking in, then said with an approving, yet firm tone; "Good."

"But it's okay if you endanger people by ignoring the best lead we have to get Saren, to go and save a small colony?" Quinn questioned and turned to John. "A colony you have no idea if they're even still alive?"

Of course, she'd managed to get the conversation back to that!

With another forceful sigh, he repeated; "We're going to Feros! End of discussion! There's nothing you do about that!" He turned to Vakarian once more. "Talk to you later."

"Commander."

John turned to his left and spotted the Gunnery Chief still at the same spot next to the lockers. Knowing the pirate couldn't stand the female soldier, he hoped she would leave him alone if he walked over there. The way Williams had bested her must still sting in the pirate's mind and therefore not wanting to engage in any conversation with her, but that plan failed too as he wasn't able to shake her.

"I'm not going to leave you alone until you changed your damned mind!"

He ignored her and instead greeted the female soldier, who indeed had been working on a sniper rifle. On the table she had disassembled it and the parts were neatly placed on it for a quick and easy assemble. He also spotted a few weapon mods and it seemed like she was considering which of them she wanted to pair with the rifle.

"Williams."

The Gunnery Chief turned around immediately. "Sir," she said her tone light, then threw an annoyed glance at the pirate behind him before returning them back on him with a soft glance.

"How are you holding up?" He asked, referring to how devastated she had been about what had happened on Eden Prime and her unit.

It was understandable. However, compared to Quinn, Williams had been calm but also honest on how she felt about it. It would be something which she would carry with her for the rest of her life and John wanted to make sure it wouldn't break her. Not that he believed it would, but he didn't know her well enough to be sure about that.

The woman took a moment to answer, and her eyes fell to the floor, before looking up at him again, her expression a bit pained. "Kinda wish you'd got there sooner, Commander," she said truthfully, but then quickly stated; "No offence. I appreciate the rescue. I just wish…" she trailed off.

Knowing she felt guilty for being the only one who survived, he filled in; "You wish we'd been able to save the rest of your unit."

Williams released a heavy sigh. "Yes, sir. If I'd been more alert, we wouldn't have been cut down by an ambush."

"They died. You lived. That happens in your job. Get over it," Quinn suddenly spoke up, her tone harsh and judgmental.

John turned to Quinn, who stood with her arms crossed and stared at the female soldier with disgust. However, there were truth in her words and they both knew it. But that didn't change the way someone felt. Having lost someone close to her at the same attack, John figured the pirate should at least have some consideration for the female soldier. But it seemed that when it came to others pain and grief, she showed no empathy.

John's gaze fell back to the Gunnery Chef, who stared daggers at the pirate and said, he wanted to ease her pain a little; "The geth are perfect ambushers. They don't move, they don't make noise— they don't even breathe."

William raised an eyebrow. "Sir, they have flashlight heads." Her tone was light, but then turned determined as she declared; "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Then you should be more alert," Quinn stated like it was the most obvious thing.

"Believe me. I know."

Feeling that the tension between the two women was rising, John decided he should put an end to it before the fight could even begin.

"Dismissed, Chief," John said, knowing that Williams would be the one to back off first when ordered.

"Sir." Williams threw one last glance at the pirate before turning around to continue her work, content with not having to engage in another cat fight with the pirate.

John walked off, knowing that the pirate would follow his tail and this time, was relieved she didn't stay with the soldier to further the argument. However, that meant she would continue to hound him, so it was a bitter sweet situation… Walking off to the krogan next, he stopped just in front of the massive alien.

"Nice ship you've got, Shepard," he commended and looked around the large hull.

Cutting straight to the question he wanted to know the answer to, John asked; "You're a bounty hunter. What do you get out of going after Saren?"

Frankly, John had not been the one to invite the krogan to join them, but Wrex had seemed willing to come along so he had had no objections to it as long as he knew who were in charge and to whom he answered to. However, he didn't trust someone who got paid for killing and he knew what had transpired in Chora's Den and how the bar owner had died. He would keep a careful eye on the krogan for the time being.

"I'm not in this for the money," Wrex spoke, his tone rumbling, but not offended by the question. "I want to be where the action is. There's a storm coming. And you and Saren are right in the middle of it."

John crossed his arms over his chest as he carefully contemplated on what he had been told. Indeed, he was relieved that he wasn't there for the money, but he wasn't pleased to hear that he was solely there for the action. Not surprised though, as the krogan specie were a violent race. John could see why Quinn had recruited him. The two of them were similar that way and both of them were operating outside the law. It bothered him to have two criminals on the ship as he was afraid the two of them would conspire something bad. Maybe he made a mistake bringing the krogan with them? John turned his head to Quinn, who stood slightly next to him, her own arms crossed and an irritated look on her face, but her eyes were on Wrex as she had listened to what he had said.

Turning back to the large krogan, he asked; "Are you going to handle it the same way you handled Fist?"

Wrex looked at him straight in the eyes and answered honestly; "The Shadow Broker paid me a lot of money to get rid of Fist. When I get paid to do a job, I finish it."

Appreciating the honesty, it still didn't fully convince John. "Can I trust you to follow my lead?"

"I wouldn't be here otherwise," Wrex stated and shrugged his shoulders, still not seeming bothered by John's suspicions.

"Good. Talk to you later."

John walked off, satisfied with that answer but only time would tell if the krogan could be trusted. What surprised him was that Quinn had kept her mouth shut during their whole exchange and had just observed. Was she up to something? Were they up to something? He threw a glance over his shoulder as he headed down to engineering and saw her still on his tail. But there was a thoughtful look upon her which made him wonder what she was plotting. For a moment, he debated with himself if he should ask her or not now when she had stopped pestering him about their destination. But worried that she would bring it up again if he opened his mouth.

No. As long as she was following him, he could keep an eye on her.

The door to engineering opened and he was immediately met by the sight of the ship's huge drive core which took up most of the space. Apparently, it was twice the size of any other vessel and the Normandy was the only one using the new Tantalus drive core. Because of it, they were perhaps faster than any other vessel and could run FTL speed longer before having to discharge the core. It was an impressive piece of machinery and John wasn't ashamed to admit, he did know nothing how to operate it. Fortunately, he had a great team who knew what they were doing and was led by the chief engineer Adams.

"Hey, Commander," the man greeted as soon as John entered and caught his attention. "You know that quarian? Tali?" Adams turned an eye to the quarian who stood to the side and observed the drive core with what seemed with great interest. "She's been spending all her time down here asking me about our engines."

"I'll tell her to leave you alone," he reassured, hoping the quarian hadn't bothered them all too much. When he was about to go and tell her, Adams stopped him by exclaiming;

"What? No! She's amazing!" That caught John a bit off guard, but the man continued to speak his mind as he looked over at her with awe; "I wish my guys were half as smart as she is. Give her a month on board and she'll know more about our engines than I do!" Adams turned back to John with a satisfied expression. "She's got a real knack for technology, that one. I can see why you wanted her to come along."

John threw her a quick glance, who seemed to have no idea they were talking about her. "I figured she'd be a real asset to the team."

"You've got an eye for talent, Commander," Adams praised.

"Not so much," Quinn threw in which earned her a glance from the chief engineer.

"Carry on, Adams," John dismissed before the pirate could throw in more of her unnecessary comments and snide remarks.

Adams gladly went back to work, seeming happy he didn't have to engage with the pirate, which was most of the crew's respond to her presence. She really had a gift of putting people off, but John was beginning to suspect that it was how the pirate wanted it.

John approached the quarian, who immediately exclaimed;

"Your ship's amazing, Shepard." There was true enthusiasm in her voice and even though he couldn't see her face through the facial mask she wore, he could picture a smile. "I've never seen a drive core like this before. I can't believe you were able to fit it into a ship this small." She turned her head to the blue energy illuminating from the huge machine. "I'm starting to understand why you humans have been so successful. I had no idea Alliance vessels were so advanced!"

Quite pleased with the ship himself, he said lightly; "The Normandy's a prototype. Cutting edge technology."

"A month ago, I was patching a makeshift fuel line into a converted tug ship in the flotilla. Now I'm sitting on board one of the most advanced vessels in Citadel space." Her eyes kept going back to the huge machine. It almost sounded like she couldn't believe it and that she was trying to convince herself it wasn't a dream. Then she turned to look at him fully, her tone now grateful. "I have to thank you again for bringing me along. Traveling on a vessel like this is a dream come true for me."

He was quite surprised by that. "I had no idea you found ship technology so interesting."

"It comes with being a quarian," she explained. "The Migran Fleet is the key to survival of my people. Ships are our most valuable resource. But we don't have anything like this. We make do with cast-offs and second-hand equipment. We just try to keep them running for as long as we can. Some of the Fleet's larger vessels date all the way back to our original flight from the geth."

"I can't believe your fleet's still using ships that are three centuries old."

"They're constantly being repaired, modified, and refitted. They aren't pretty, but they work. Mostly. We tried to make ourselves as independent as possible on the flotilla. Grow our food, mine and process our own fuel. But some things we just can't make on our own. A patch to maintain the hull integrity requires raw materials we just don't have. That's why our Pilgrimages are so important."

"For real?" Quinn suddenly asked, her tone annoyed and bothered. "Again, about you damn Pilgrimage?" John turned to her, about to snap at her, but she beat him to it. "We get it! You're out on your own for the first time in your fucking life! Get over it!"

A bit stunned at first, Tali snapped back; "We're on the same side here. You can't blame me for being a little excited. I never dreamed I'd get a chance to travel on a ship as advanced as the Normandy!"

"You're not here to admire the ship!" Quinn continued.

"I know why I'm here!" Tali pushed back. "My people have more reason to hate the geth than anyone, remember? I'll do whatever I can to help you stop Saren and drive his geth armies back beyond the Veil."

"Then stop talking about your damned Pilgrimage and act like you belong here!"

"That's enough, Quinn," John barked sternly, feeling the tension grow rapidly. Why the hell was she insisting on getting on everyone's bad sides?

"Fine," she said, eying the quarian. "I'm done here, anyway." Then she turned on her heel and left.

A bit surprised that she had actually left, John was a bit conflicted on what to do next. Should he be pleased with finally getting her off his back or should he be suspicious of her sudden lack of need to pestering him? Had she finally given up on the argument of their destination? Even if she hadn't, what could she do about it? It wasn't like she could fly the Normandy and even if she tried, she would be stopped before she could even do anything.

John turned back to Tali and asked her; "I want to know more about the Pilgrimage."

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Thanks for reading!

Please comment, fave and follow if you haven't already!

If there is something I've missed, gotten wrong or anything, please tell me so I can fix it!

The teaser this time will be...

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"I told you Quinn, this discussion is over. We're going to Feros. There is nothing you can do about that."

"We will see about that..."