Chapter 12

S.S.D.D:B.B.

The Council had made a "formal request" to the Alliance that they speak with Shepard. In their chambers no less. Shepard wasn't sure why they chose this location. Work on the Citadel had only gone as far as clearing the dead and searching for any potential Reaper troops left. No official work had gone into making repairs. It was something of a sore spot for the Alliance and the rest of humanity as so many of their people had died on it.

Even the most stable sections had spotty power at best: lights flickering, AG fields operating at only 10% Earth-standard and the basic layout had become a disturbing maze of dead-ends and accidental double-backing corridors.

It took Shepard and Hackett more than an hour to make it from the docking ring to the base of the Presidium tower. By this point of course Shepard was fully awake. His patience however, was somewhat questionable.

When they finally found a working elevator they exchanged a look of "should we?" and "might as well". Shepard made a physical connection between his omni-tool and the destroyed control panel.

Approximately three quarters up the tower the elevator stalled out.

"Just give me like, one minute." He said when he started. It took him two and a half to get moving again, but Hackett didn't say a word.

The lift reached the Council chambers, opening to a somewhat disgusting spectacle: a flurry of surviving C-Sec officers were working to clear the rubble and rebuild the hall. "Son of a Bitch" Shepard cursed putting emphasis on the "b".

Walking forward at the fastest pace he could, more so than was recommended with the current leg he had, he marched himself up to the stairs. The area between where his leg ended and the artificial one ached more and more with each step he took. Despite the physical therapy (PT for short), it was still ached from time-to-time. Especially when he maintained a fast walking pace. Miranda had spoken with him several times about the possibility of having the surgeon take a look at it to see if they could fix the problem but he never gave her an answer.

Likewise, his artificial hand didn't allow much for twisting where the "wrist" was. Being as it was cut right on the gray zone where most people's wrist was when looking close to determine forearm and hand. During the shuttle ride over he had started considering about having a little more (no more than two inches or so) removed to try and regain full use of his hand. He'd need to replace it anyways. It still looked like metal bones with a small set of chips and wires for his omni-tool (it was at present only a basic combat model taken from one of the fallen soldiers).

As the foot stepped down on the first step of the second flight his leg collapsed, bending at the knee in a way that would have torn the ligaments apart should they have still existed. Collapsing on the stairs an asari C-Sec agent came running up to help him.

"Are you okay sir?" Her skin was a light azure with white facial markings similar to what Vasir had (though this woman's was longer and fewer in count). The non-armored clothing told him that she was likely one of those who were part of rebuilding rather than providing security in the all but abandoned station.

"I'm fine." He said pushing her hand away. He rolled over so he could get a better look at his leg. Even with it being a construct it disturbed him (and probably her) that it was bent so unnaturally. He'd definitely want to get a better replacement for that too. Maybe the geth could set him up with something.

"Are you sure you're okay? That leg looks pretty bad. I could get a technician-"

"I'm a combat engineer. Trust me. It's fine." He said. It was nice that she cared, but her services would be better spent on one of the hundred or so planets that was still struggling to rebuild. How the hell could the Council even think about putting resources into getting the Citadel up and running first?

Snapping the leg back Shepard grunted as the receptors at the end of his leg received signals from the leg. It wasn't pain per se, but it was definitely uncomfortable as all hell.

He flexed the ankle and knee joint, checking for any further signs of damage. None noticeable but if there was a software hiccup it would likely come out when he put some weight on it. The foot, assuming one could call it that as it looked more like a very flat shoe, had no issues. Neither did the knee joint. Without running a full check (which was not a function his omni-tool had) it would be impossible to tell if it would support his weight.

"I could use a hand up though." He extended his right arm out. She grabbed his hand behind the wrist allowing for a stronger grip.

"Thanks." He said as he was pulled up keeping the weight, momentarily off his right leg.

By this point Hackett had caught up. The older admiral had kept a slower pace wanting to get a good look at what was going on in the chambers.

Shepard slowly put his full weight on his leg. "Looks like I'm good." No sooner than he got the words out, the leg collapsed again. Soon as they were done he needed to take a close look at the leg.

"I'm going to need a hand the rest of the way sir." He said to Hackett.

"I've got you Commander." The asari said pulling him back up again. Shepard though gave a confused look at her. As far as he knew they'd never met before.

"You're shocked? You saved the Citadel three and a half years ago, then the galaxy only a few months ago. Everyone knows who you are. Everyone." She meant it as a complement, but the way she said "everyone" unnerved him slightly; the fight with the indoctrinated civilian in the café was brought to mind. Though he didn't let any of the worry show. If someone was going to try and take him out, this would be the time to do it.

"I'm technically off-duty. Can I escort you anywhere? Most of the Citadel is still a wreck but the Council is looking to deputize some more forces, bring it back to its glory."

"We'll be fine, thank you." Hackett said wrapping Shepard's arm over his own shoulder.

"Didn't want her near us while we talked?" Shepard asked after they were half way up the second tier of the chambers.

"That's one way of putting it."

They proceeded the rest of the way to the final tier where the Council was already presiding at their podiums. Shepard couldn't tell though whether he was more angry or surprised. The turian, asari and salarian councilors were the exact same as usual: Sparatus, Tevos and Valern respectively.

"It's about time you arrived Shepard." Sparatus said. Just when it was finally looking like he might not be a complete prick. The two got along about as well as Shepard had gotten along with Udina on any given day.

"My apologies that the problems with my faux leg," He said patting it. His voice was drenched in sarcasm. "Inconvenienced you."

"Please, shall we not start this again?" Valern spoke up before the two could start trading actual barbs.

"Yes." Sparatus agreed. "We've called you here so you can explain your actions Commander."

"Two things. One, I'm an admiral now. Two, I believe the Alliance would have already sent you a copy of the reports yes?" He turned to Hackett for confirmation.

"Yes, we are aware of the apparent "decisions" this AI presented you."

"Vysrat se na!" Growing up moving from ship to ship in a multinational group like the Alliance, spacers tended to be fluent in multiple languages (though most of what they picked up was how to swear or otherwise insult someone).

"Kakogo cherta s toboy?" When he became furious Shepard would sometimes mix the languages together. It wasn't an unheard of for those who were bi-lingual.

"Shepard," Hackett whispered to him. "You might want to watch your tongue."

One lucky thing, is that most aliens didn't have a translator for most Earth languages. English, or "common" as it was referred to, was the only one that could fit with the translations. It also worked like this for each of the other races. To count every language used by all the races the number would reach well over 150. The memory to hold every language and be able to translate them would require a computer able to calculate more than two hundred megabytes per millisecond.

"Tens of thousands died because of your actions Shepard. We're giving you a chance to explain yourself."

"Oh you want to play the numbers blame game? Is that what you want?!" No matter what he did, the Council seemed content to find fault in every action he made. The destruction of the ruins when he first met Liara (which would have more than likely happened one way or another), the use of an improvised nuclear device on Vermire (despite the fact that it was the STG team the Council sent that came up with the plan and made the bomb), the list just kept going.

"We are not looking assign blame Shepard. We simply want to know why you felt this was the best decision." Tevos had a way of speaking down to him that few others could even come close to. Not even the most vulgar and ruthless drill instructor could piss him off like she could.

"Bullshit you're not! If you want to put the blame for any of the deaths over the last year, no, the last two years because of the Reapers you only have to look in the mirror. I tried to warn you since the attack on Eden Prime by Saren. If you had listened, started to actually prepare, then who knows how many would be alive right now.

"And I'd also like to note, that while nearly every world is clearing dead bodies and trying to make enough food for their people, you decide to start focusing your efforts on rebuilding this million year old monument of death! It's also good to see that you managed to save your skins while so many others here died."

"Shepard-" Hackett tried to politely stop his rant.

"No! Not this time sir. Now I have had it with this bureaucratic bullshit that these blind MORONS have been spewing out. We ask for help as tens of thousands die by geth hands, and they say that there's nothing they can do. Two years later, hundreds of thousands are being abducted and they sing the same tune. And finally, our people are dying now by the millions and you're asking us for help or just sitting on the sidelines protecting your own crumbling borders."

"Shepard," Valern said with a warning tone. "If you continue we will have no choice but to permanently revoke your Spectre status."

That's when Hackett stepped in as a mediator, but he was obviously standing with Shepard emotionally. "If you'll excuse me, I don't believe that it would be wise as the first official act of this Council to remove Shepard from the Spectre ranks. I personally know of twenty reporters off the top of my head who would kill for an exclusive like this. When word got out, I imagine that there'd be a general riot that the Hero of the Galaxy was thrown out for saving it."

The trio stepped back discussing with each other for a minute before coming to a decision on Hackett's subtle blackmail.

Tevos, as usual was the one to give their final verdict. "We have decided, that a formal meeting with all Council members will be held to discuss the issue of Shepard's continuing service with the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch. This concludes the meeting." The moment she finished they all immediately left. They had decided to keep Shepard with the Spectres, for now at least, to save what little political face they had.

"Really glad you didn't order me to join the stuffed shirts." Shepard said after a few minutes.

He looked down to see his left hand stuck in a clenched fist. After trying to open it a few times to which nothing happened, he used his other to individually pry them. It hurt like hell trying to open them one by one, but it looked at least a little more natural this way. He'd definitely need to have them both looked at when they were done.

"So am I." Hackett replied.

The white haired, battle scarred admiral helped Shepard back to the elevator to head down to the docking bay. While en route Shepard sent a message to the Normandy requesting a shuttle pick him up.

When the elevator finally reached the docks they found both shuttles waiting to take the admirals back to their respective ships.

"Before you go Shepard, you're being put on temporary leave for the next three weeks. Spend it however you wish. And there's this." He handed Shepard a datapad.

"Consider it a gift from the Alliance." It contained an encrypted lock on it. Whatever it was, it was sensitive enough to warrant at least mild paranoia.

"Dismissed Shepard." The shaggy haired blonde saluted his superior, the latter returning a quick salute before stepping onto his shuttle closing the door behind him.

Shepard set the pad down with his good hand when he got on his shuttle. "Take us back to the barn, spare the horses." He told the pilot. Whatever was on the datapad could wait until he could use his limbs again.

"Always have sir." Cortez's voice emanated from the cockpit.

"Also call ahead, have EDI and Chakwas waiting in medbay. Don't let them alert Tali though. I don't want her to worry."

ABLE/NOVEMBER:

So there's a little bit of translating that needs to be done. Here ya go.

The title, S.S.D.D:B.B is an addition to the traditional SSDD (same shit different day): bureaucratic bullshit.

*Vysrat se na - translates as "fuck" in Czech

** Kakogo charta s toboy" - translates as "what the hell is with you" in Russian