Summary: The change of command for the Normandy was smoother than most expected, including Shepard. Prepping a ship for active duty usually involved a longer turn around. Her suspicions are confirmed by her friend and mentor Captain Anderson, who basically confirms her suspicions that there was more to all of it than she had been told.

Acknowledgements: I want to throw many kudos and flowers at the feet of my beta readers-xforeverquotex and my paramour. You guys are amazing and I appreciate your time and assistance with this piece.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, I'm only playing with their universe. I do not own the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do it for the love of the game, the world, and the characters; and because they stuck with me long after I turned the game off (and back on, and off, ad infinitum).

09 Outside Looking In

i.

The crew of the Normandy worked overtime to shift gears from shakedown cruise to active duty load out. Every member of her initial ground team opted to stay and Alenko had sold it hard, though Shepard kind of wished he had not. If they chose to stay she wanted them to do so on their own terms and not be swayed by anyone else. With the combination of their new mission and the experienced operators that had joined the crew, she knew that the squad she had previously been trying to train would not see much if any action on this cruise. After Eden Prime, the commander knew the situation was only bound to get hairier now that the Council had actually stepped in and put Saren on the run.

The staff lieutenant had called it accurately though. Sitting in the cockpit with Joker she had overheard the conversation that took place in the comm room, though Nyx had threatened the pilot with a uniquely devised kind of torture if he breathed even a syllable of their eavesdropping to anyone. In the end she was surprised. There hadn't even the slightest hint of hesitation in the squad's responses. McMillan and Crosby had been the most adamant about remaining. Crosby even offered to wash dishes but refused to leave the crew unless someone physically ejected him out of the airlock.

With that statement Joker at looked at her and thoughtfully stroked his raggedy chin whiskers; he'd started growing it out again when command changed and it was still at the early, scruffy, out of control stage. He and Crosby had a playful love-hate relationship and usually gave each other a hard time whenever Crosby was assigned to bridge security.

"Guess they like you, Commander," Joker declared with a wink.

"Looks like," Shepard noted as she climbed out of the co-pilot's chair. She could tell that the meeting was coming to a close and she didn't want anyone to even suspect she'd overheard the discussion. "Close the channel. And just remember our deal."

"How did your threat of bodily harm against me become our deal?"

She winked at him and patted the top of his chair. "I bet the krogan would have some great input on that."

"Yeah. Thanks, Commander," Joker sarcastically shot back.

She was on the stairs when she heard the rabble pour out into the CIC, but she ducked into the observation deck before anyone else moved toward the crew deck. Even before the switch Shepard usually spent a few hours in the evening focusing on the administrative requirements of her posting, but now she had additional duties that required her attention with her promotion to commanding officer of the Normandy and her appointment as a Council Spectre, which was what she turned her attention to at that moment. But she was quickly becoming overwhelmed with the requirements of the latter, at least initially.

When she crossed the crew deck in search of her third cup of coffee in a little more than an hour, Kaidan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched her. As she walked back toward her hideout, she caught him staring.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"What are you doing that requires that much coffee?"

She laughed brightly, letting her head fall back. "I swear, if I'd known being a Spectre involved this much paperwork, I might have said no."

"Liar."

She tried to look scandalized at the quick accusation, but instead it merely came off as slightly amused. Shepard walked over and rested her knee on the railing. "I think the salarians are to blame." Her tone was secretive.

Kaidan set the datapad he had been reading on the chair next to him. "How so?"

"There is a form for everything. And I'm still working on the information paperwork. They want a secure channel locator. There are expense reports, travel itineraries, after action documentation that will make me want to stab someone with a dull rusty spoon." She slipped into a chair across from him, tucking her legs up beneath her. "And they want retroactive reports on our evidentiary investigation into Saren-all action taken during that mission. At the turian councilor's request, of course." She shook her head, her preoccupation clear.

He just smiled, observing her. "I take it you're almost all official then?"

"Mostly. Waiting on clearance from the Alliance to install the Council's communication scrambler. They want their own tech aboard so they can verify my transmissions by a certain signal identifier." She considered going into the details she'd read in the request, but waved the thought away; the tech details always seemed to escape her. She wasn't completely technologically inept, but she knew where her strengths lay and where they were merely mediocre.

"Damn. Bet Hackett and the fleet are just chomping at the bit to accommodate that."

Shepard's brow furrowed. "He's, surprisingly, taking it all in stride. I'm starting to think I'm the only person in this chain of command that didn't have a clue what they were walking into."

Kaidan's expression mimicked her own confusion. "How so?"

"I got pulled off a moon. Escorted to Arcturus and told to report a little more than twelve hours before the Normandy put out."

"Really?" He leaned forward, clearly surprised by the revelation.

"Hit the station met with Hackett and my command CO. And wham, bam, I'm suddenly a line officer. Shortest orders I've ever gotten," she volunteered, sipping her coffee then staring into the mug.

He was looking at her in that way which made her mind go sluggish, like she fascinated him. You need to go back under your rock, she told herself, realizing that this was simply too easy. He was like a honey trap, so easy to just talk to and be around, so comfortable until she said or did the wrong thing that would set her on an irrecoverable trajectory.

"Usually there was at least a contact or commanding officer, usually a rundown of some sort. And of course there was almost always a line or two about bringing lots of weapons and ammunition. Maybe some explosives." The two shared a chuckle before she stood. "I'll let you get back to it, L-T," she noted with a glance at whatever he'd been reading when she let herself become distracted.

"Don't let the paperwork get to you, Commander."

She offered a small you-got-it wave as she rounded the corner. Her saving grace was her inability to become unhinged. It was one of the keys to her career success. Shepard had come to embody the mantra: improvise, adapt, overcome. Her whole career was dedicated to finding the way through, making the right call.

But Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was not like anything she'd come up against before. This wasn't the type of encounter that strategy, luck, or ammo could whittle down. . Nothing in her career or her training told her how she was supposed to prepare for encounters of the amiable, scrupulous, courteous kind with a gentlemanly subordinate officer. He was the only person she'd ever met that made her flare-she knew it was a mix of nerves, surprise, and who knows what else, but it had been obvious that he'd noticed it as well when they were finally introduced.

Shepard pressed her hand to her forehead trying to suppress the memory of the girlish slip. Nothing flustered her, until him. In a look he could make her lose her train of thought. And that smile, she caught herself before the wistful little sigh escaped her lips. Goddamn it Nyx. Act your age, or at least your rank, she scolded as she leaned against the bulkhead for a moment, shaking her head.

How does he manage it? In a moment he could wiggle comfortably past her defenses, get under her skin, and addle her brain. And that was just in conversation, when he slipped or she did, when he let her see a glimpse of what she thought was interest-her pulse raced and then her stomach would flip. This is not behavior becoming of an officer, she thought in an attempt to regain some control over her rebellious thoughts which all seemed wholly centered where there should not be.

Merely hoping the distraction would dissipate was failing miserably. With a guarded glance over her shoulder, she regarded him as covertly as she could manage. He was too good an officer to lose, and she couldn't justify possibly black-marking his career over a fling. She knew that her career would be marked as well. Though even if she were discharged from the Alliance over what she was starting to believe were mutual feelings, her position as a Spectre was not in danger and could allow her service to continue rather unaffected.

Shepard turned toward the heavy footfalls bounding down the stairs, as Williams came to a startling halt a few feet from her.

"Hey Commander, got a minute?" There was weightiness to the Chief's voice that pushed the previous thoughts to the back of Nyx's head and offered her mind a welcome reprieve from the problem she had no answer for.

"Sure thing, Chief. Come on in."

Crossing the brightly lit Obs, neither of the females spoke. Shepard grimaced at the table that was now boasting two appropriated consoles and more datapads than she really wanted to think too hard about, then moved over to the sofa not far from the door. Ashley sat a few feet from the commander, who watched the younger soldier as she shifted several times trying to find a position that suited her. The anxiety was clear to Nyx who initially just waited, giving Williams time to find the words and her voice.

"Look, C-O." She shook her head and leaned forward, looking at her clasped hands. "Shepard I just … I wanted to thank you for what you did today. And for what you let me do. It meant a lot. Means a lot. "

Ashley's eyes rose slightly and Nyx could easily read the gratitude as well as the deep grief.

"I knew Serviceman Bhatia. Nirali. There were only four women in our unit so we got to be pretty close. It was …" Ashley shot off the couch and strode to the window that looked out at the view that had fascinated the young woman since their approach to the Citadel. "I've never had a lot of friends. Nirali was one of the few that really knew me. She didn't care about-"

Williams leaned on the glass and went silent.

Shepard moved quietly and stood next to the Chief, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's never easy to lose people. It's even harder when it's someone close to us."

"She was my friend, and I couldn't save her."

"No, but you brought her home. Sometimes that is all we can do," Nyx comforted. Shepard had been in the same place the chief was in, and she'd been the one arguing for remains in the past as well. Deep down, there was a part of her that was relieved she had been able to convince Bosker to man up and send the woman's body home. She also knew it was a double-edged sword. The research … Nyx shook her head. No. It didn't matter. It wasn't worth the pain. Bhatia had served well and proud. It was time to go home.

The commander was initially taken aback when William's shoulder pressed against her. She glanced over and saw the streaks on her cheeks. Nyx moved her hand to Ashley's other shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Neither one of them were gushy women, and anything more than that type of measured reaction would have probably made the commander retreat to a safe distance. But this pain Shepard knew and she knew how to respond to a refined exhibition of sorrow. They just stood there, Ashley leaning against Nyx, and the officer with her arm across the chief's shoulder.

Several minutes later, Williams straightened again and Shepard removed her hand as the chief turned away, sniffling a few times as she swiped her hands across her cheeks, removing any trace.

"I've been there. And I've been where you were today," Shepard disclosed, her eyes skimming the lights and structures beyond the window.

"Thank you, Shepard."

The commander nodded.

"I needed to do that, for her. Maybe even a little bit for me." Ashley moved toward the door. "And I really appreciate you talking to Bosker. He probably would have had my stripes, if I'd said what I wanted to say," Ashley revealed.

"Anytime." Shepard replied as she turned and leaned against the cool glass.

"Anyway. I should get back to what I was doing."

"I won't keep you."

Before Ashley hit the door, the officer slipped into a chair at the overloaded table. "On another note, Chief, I got a recommendation this afternoon I needed to ask you about. Seems the ship set out for shakedown without a Command Chief and your name was put forth."

"Me?" the Gunnery Chief asked, taking a quick step back into the room. Shepard just nodded. "But I just joined the crew. You've got like three of Chiefs-"

"Is that a 'no'?" Shepard looked over at her.

"No, ma'am. It's not," Williams replied sharply. "I just thought…"

Shepard took a long sip of her coffee and watched the chief closely. "So?"

"Can I think about it?"

"I need to know before we put out to cruise. Dismissed."

The commander set the mug back on the table and returned her attention to the console on her left. She heard the familiar click of the chief's heels as she snapped to attention just before she slipped out the door. Shepard just smiled at her screen. That was one more item to check off the list. She knew Williams would take the position; Ashley just needed time to wrap her head around the idea of it all. Shepard was heartily aware of the fact that she was not the only one experiencing some growing pains with this new assignment and mission-Williams, Alenko, most of the crew, and even the contacts she'd made on the Citadel were feeling the impact of everything happening around them and the pace at which it was all swirling about..

The commander had gotten a similar reaction when she offered her old post to Navigator Pressly. He'd stared blankly at her for some time then blinked quickly as his mouth moved for a moment with nothing coming out. He'd snapped it shut and nodded sharply once. She'd clapped him on the shoulder and they traded salutes. She chose Pressly for two reasons: one, his posting as navigator kept him on the bridge rather than below decks and it would keep him on the ship. Her second reason was a little more devious. She remembered the opinion on turians that he'd shared with her before Eden Prime and she knew that being the executive officer on this boat, on this cruise, would put him in the position of having to deal with turians, and the rest of the aliens she'd pulled into her crew. In a way she was hoping the cruise might open Pressly's horizons, though it was not an issue she could force. Shepard was sure anyone with even the barest hint of xenophobia was going to have to quickly work it out on this ship, because that was not something she was going to tolerate.

ii.

Normandy's change in command wasn't a surprise to everyone on the crew. Dr. Karin Chakwas, the ship's medical officer, hadn't been as surprised as she probably should have been. She'd known Anderson for years and even served under his command previously. In that instance, the captain had made his quarters clearly his own. There were photos and knick knacks, mementos from his career. It was a place that was his. Nothing like that had happened on the Normandy. The Captain's Quarters on this vessel were barren.

It was a silly reason taken on its own. But given other clues: the Spectre's presence, the very nature of the vessel itself, the identity of the XO-the second in command. Karin had come to the conclusion that there was something in store for the Normandy that had yet to be disclosed. It also explained why an officer like Charles Pressly was assigned as the Navigator, while it had been where his career led him; it was a step down from his last assignment.

She ducked out of the medbay and into the mess hall to prepare a cup of tea, on her return she noticed Shepard crossing the deck toward her for their requisite daily visit. The ship's medical officer had been strict with Shepard since Eden Prime and scanned her on a daily basis for any abnormal developments, of which there had been none thus far, though she had noticed signs of the commander's sleeping troubles.

"So, Doc," Shepard asked from her perch on one of the beds in the center of the room, "when are we going to be done with these daily visits?"

Chakwas leaned against the edge of her desk and scowled at the commander. "When I'm satisfied that you're not experiencing any negative symptoms. We don't know what that device was or what it might have done to you. Your neurological functions seem to be fine, and, sadly, your personality remains intact." Shepard shook her head and laughed lightly at the doctor's assessment. "But some of the readings are still abnormal. And I think that's worth keeping an eye on."

"You do remember me, right?" the commander quipped.

Karen shook her head and chuckled. She'd met the commander for the first time after Elysium. And since then Shepard had passed through her medbay doors a handful of times. The commander could be a pain in the ass to medical staff, but even when she was arguing with them she still respected their opinions, even if she didn't always follow them to the letter. Chakwas guessed that was likely a trait drilled into Shepard's head by her father, Taranis Shepard, who had started his career as a combat medic before moving to the line.

"Look. You give me a list of symptoms to watch out for, and I'll keep you informed. But this daily scan is getting tedious. And more tediousness I don't need more of right now," Nyx admitted with a look that suggested the truth of the situation the officer was in.

The strain was visible, though Chakwas knew that there was more beneath the surface. She'd seen it before, not only in Shepard, but in a lot of operators and officers. There was the officer and the leader, then there was the mere mortal beneath the carefully and precisely crafted persona. Usually there were shades of each in the other, but they were not always exactly the same person. The face that most people saw masked a lot of things.

The doctor stared at her for a few moments. "Fine. Weekly scans. And you tell me if you get any neurological symptoms: tingling, weakness, blurry vision, dizziness, headaches." When Shepard raised her hand, Chakwas added, "Yes, even if you think the dizziness is a 'biotic thing'-you are on my table. And I mean any headache. No, self diagnosing. I'm the one with the medical license."

The commander held up her hands in surrender. "Aye, aye, ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear." Chakwas turned to her desk. When Shepard hopped down, the older officer informed the commander of another matter.

"Thanks, Doc," Shepard said with a nod. The commander started for the door and stopped, turning around in the open doorway. "Let Pressly know if you need anything special for our newest crew members. Looks like they'll be with us for a while."

The doctor nodded and immediately returned to her desk. She had spoken with Tali and Garrus about individual specific needs. Officer Vakarian had been so thorough as to bring her a complete copy of his medical history, all three data pads brimmed with it; though he had collated each for specific periods of his life: one for childhood, military service (mandatory among all turians), and concluding with another from the point he applied to Citadel Security. Tali was a little less detailed and informed the doctor quite politely that she was more than capable of administering her own basic medical care. At the same time the quarian did provide a list of a few things that would need to be kept on hand in the case of an emergency.

The krogan, however, was another matter. He hadn't even been near the medical bay and when she attempted to speak with him, he'd ducked out of the cargo bay and escaped through the service docking sleeve. That particular response left her doing her own research, and it was fairly scant. Finally she was able to get in contact with salarian on the Citadel who treated numerous krogan and he offered her some healthy advice. Though Chakwas had to admit that his suggestion to have someone shoot the alien with a tranquilizer dart before attempting any medical procedure seemed a bit extreme, she had requested some powerful sedatives, in case the need arose.

iii.

Looking out at the ward arms, she couldn't help but hear the awestruck ways her squad had responded to their first sight of the Citadel repeat in her head as she stood in the same spot. In a lot of ways it was also the first time Lieutenant Commander Nyx Shepard had really seen the station, despite her previous visits. As was often the case, she'd always been so focused on her mission-where she had to be, what she had to do-that she sometimes overlooked where she was, what was immediately around her. It was rare that Nyx ever just took a moment to stop and look around her.

It hadn't been like that in the beginning. There were still things about her life and her work that drew her fascination, but early on it had been much more widespread. She was a bit of a transcendentalist at heart and saw great beauty and power in the natural spaces around her, though she could also find it elsewhere-in the hull design of a beautiful ship, in the expansive skyline of a bustling city. But perhaps years of running through all sorts of landscapes had jaded her a bit. Too often when she looked around her now, she saw escape routes, high ground, improvised weapons, and choke points. She saw they ways the landscape natural or designed could conspire with her enemies. She missed the light, the life, the wonder that had drawn her to space and the Alliance in the first place.

A wistful smile painted her lips as she leaned on the retaining wall. She blamed Williams, blessedly. Her crew had drawn her attention away from the mission at hand for a brief moment. In that moment they'd given her permission to deviate from the plan, to lend importance to something that she would generally overlook-the wonder around her.

As a girl she'd been mesmerized by the stars. Her mother, Hannah, claimed it was because she was born in space nearly four weeks early. Her father always joked it was because Nyx was meant for the stars. But part of her knew it was just one of the ways he had developed to answer the questions about why she wasn't living with relatives on Earth or in a colony. The Shepards had wanted their daughter with one or both of them as much as possible, which meant that as a girl she spent her time on space stations and Alliance vessels throughout space.

Her father had been the one to sacrifice his career for his family, but he was also the one that demanded his girl be with one of them. Hannah Shepard had been fine with Nyx growing up on Earth moving between relatives while Hannah and her husband were on cruise. Taranis Shepard, however, had grown up like that, rarely seeing his parents, always feeling out of place and alone. And he didn't want to do that to his child.

There had been times, when he wondered if her growing up as a spacer kid wasn't just as bad. Taranis and Nyx had talked about it once, after she's joined the Alliance. But Nyx had just shrugged it off. "It's what I knew. Sure, it wasn't perfect. But I wouldn't change it. And you were always there, even when I didn't want it," she'd told him with a grinning laugh.

He'd just hugged her tightly and apologized that she didn't get a normal life.

"I'm not cut out for normal, Da. Even if you had been stationed ground-side we still would have moved around like Lin's pop. They never spent more than a few years in the same place. At least, we got a better view."

They never really talked about it again after that, Nyx knew her father still felt a little guilty about the way she'd grown up; he felt he was being selfish and that his and Hannah's work had impacted their daughter's life. While it certainly had impacted the girl, there really was no way to avoid that, though to be fair, Nyx never really viewed that impact negatively. She had friends growing up, but she also got a childhood that few others did.

She met her first alien at eight, talked to her first N7 when she was ten, and took shooting lessons from a security chief with a sniper tab. Even when she was the only kid on the ship, Shepard enjoyed it because those were the times Taranis would set out extra special time for his daughter-they had their rituals that happened every tour-but when there weren't other kids, he made extra concessions for Nyx and that time meant a lot to her then and as she grew older.

But after several years spent at a breakneck operational tempo Shepard had forgotten some of the reasons she joined the Alliance in the first place. Yes, it was a place where her biotic potential wasn't quite so paralyzing to her career. Yes, she wanted to follow in the family business-the Shepard and O'Rourke families had long and storied military lineages. But mostly, she wanted to see the stars, visit other worlds, meet people and aliens, and help how and where she could. She saw the beauty in the galaxy and wanted to help protect it; and for her the way to do that was as part of the Alliance. And she had reached her apex goal, the most out of reach dream she could have for her career, seven years earlier when she completed training for her N7 commission.

Some of those seemingly old, forgotten memories and ideas came bubbling back to the surface as she stood alone at the observation area in the wards. The Citadel stretched out in front of her, a symbol for all the races part of the galactic community. In that moment it felt like an anchor holding her steady in the tumultuous buffeting. Everything in Shepard's life seemed to have shifted. It had been quaking for months, but with the Spectre commission her world had opened up and she was clinging to the edge of the chasm trying to maintain.

iv.

Lieutenant Commander Shepard straightened and glanced over her shoulder when she heard his footsteps, offering a strained smile to her old friend and commanding officer, or at least he would be her direct CO for a few more days.

"Commander," David Anderson said as he leaned next to her and looked out at the station beyond the glass.

"Captain."

"It's something isn't it? This station, all these aliens. Yet somehow it all works." He noted as he leaned on the retaining wall and gazed out past the overlook.

Shepard just watched him, they both knew he had something to say, or he would not have been willing to meet her on the wards at 0500.

"It works here and on Earth because of people like you," he stated turning his head in her direction and looking down at her.

"And you," she replied.

He laughed. "Maybe." He looked back out on the magnificent view. "So why did you call me in the middle of the night, Shepard?"

Anderson suspected he knew the reason, and if he was right he was prepared for the conversation. Even if he was wrong the why of it, they both knew this wasn't a social call, though there was nothing official about the meeting either. Shepard had no way of knowing that David had been preparing for this conversation even before her reassignment to the boat. Thankfully, Admiral Hackett had finally cleared full disclosure after the Council gave her the nod.

She grimaced as she looked down at her boot, the toe of which she was tapping against the wall. "I need to know," she admitted as she glanced over at the man she'd known since she was a gangly girl hiding out on cargo decks to get a glimpse of her future, while hiding out from overbearing boys. "Was I the only one who didn't know?"

He laughed raucously but said nothing.

"I mean we both know you don't fully compliment a shakedown cruise, and an official change of command takes more than five days," she observed stoically.

"It was above your pay grade, Shepard."

"So this was all planned?"

He shrugged. "More or less, though it didn't go the way we thought." He looked over at her and found she was studying him. "The Normandy was never my ship, Shepard. Not really. She was originally tasked to Elli Zander's command, who was relieved a few months after we got word that we might have the chance at getting another human in the Spectres, but that was merely a coincidence. She lost the command for other reasons."

Anderson straightened and looked around them, then with a tip of his head the two started walking. "I was assigned command when the brass made their decision about who they were going to groom," he said carefully.

"Groom? Is that why Seven hadn't seen leave in a year and a half?"

Anderson nodded and Shepard shook her head. "One of them."

"You know I had two people rotate out because the pace was too much? Shit," She placed her hands on her hips and searched the whirling pattern in the tiles beneath her feet as she tried to wrap her head around this new twist. He knew her well enough to know that the magnitude of it was a little overwhelming, even if she'd suspected the truth of it all.

"Hell! How do you think I feel? I spent eighteen months babysitting your boat." He'd meant it as a joke, but she'd seen the seriousness of the situation.

"You crewed her well," she said, stopping their progress.

"And I'd do it again, Shepard." He touched her arm and she looked up at him. "I'd do it again a dozen times over. I meant what I said. It's the perfect ship for a Spectre, and she has the best crew I could pull together because to play both sides of the field, you're going to need all the help you can get. This is not going to be easy. Some Spectres just work for the Council. You and I both know that's not going to be your lot."

She nodded. But stayed silent, he could see her playing it all out in her head, fitting the pieces together and trying to formulate her own plan for something that had been designed for her. For something she'd probably never choose for herself

"Command is going to keep calling on your team, like they've become accustomed to over the last since you put Seven together. And they are going to have bigger expectations, because you're a Spectre now. You'll have a little more leeway in some ways, but more scrutiny in others. The Council's going to judge you harshly because you're human. Some of the brass are going to scour for any chink they can find because you're associated with the Council now. But when it comes down to it-the Alliance is behind you, Commander. There are a lot of people rooting for you, supporting you."

"This is all just…"

"Overwhelming?"

She started walking again, each step was slow and deliberate, carefully placed.

"I know. That's another reason I'm here. We've worked together, we have a rapport, according to the brass. But I would have volunteered for this, kid, and you know it. I've known you too long to let you whip in the wind. Plus, your father would hunt me down and scoop out my liver with a spoon," David noted.

She laughed lightly. Her father respected Anderson, and the two men were still friends even though they hadn't served together in decades. David saw himself as lucky to have been one of the people that shaped the person she had become, both personally and professionally. Never had he merely been just a superior or a commanding officer to Shepard; he was family.

"And I was there too once, though I didn't go the distance." There was a bitter twinge in his voice. He had already told her about his chance at becoming the first human Spectre and neither were going to dredge it back up. "But you're right, everything was in place for the transfer of command and to operational status before you were even officially assigned to the Normandy. But it did happen a little faster than anyone expected."

Nyx was feeling the weight of it, of people guiding and directing her career toward a path she didn't even know she was a possibility before the mantle was placed on her, and Anderson could see it weighing on her. He'd been part of one of the first squads to reach Elysium, he'd been the one to relieve her from the position she'd held and they had teamed up on missions after that to secure Elysium and the staging areas in the system. He had seen her under this kind of strain before, but only a few times in her life.

"How did they even know I'd do it?" Shepard finally asked.

"Because you're you."

She looked at him sharply.

"They talked to your people, some more candidly than others. Hackett asked me point blank and I told him there was no way you'd turn it down," Anderson admitted, claiming his own complicity in her current predicament.

"Why?"

"Elysium."

This time he stopped. He put his hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes for a long moment, reading the questions skimming across the azure sea of her irises.

"The woman- No. The soldier that held that position, who protected those civilians, who nearly killed herself for her men. That soldier would never say, 'No. I won't stand up to protect those who can't fight for themselves.' That soldier could only ever step forward and accept the type of responsibility the Council places on a Spectre."

He could see the shift, there were still questions, but there was resolve and determination. And that was one of the things that made Shepard the officer she was. She was skilled, powerful, and well-trained, but on top of it all, beyond everything else she was determined. The commander always found a way.

"You are a Spectre, Shepard. It's like Nihlus said, he recommended you because he knew you could do the job, not because you're human. The Spectres don't care about the vital statistics of a person-just that you're the right one to get it done. And they are damn lucky to have you. Even if they don't realize it yet."

Shaking her head, she chuckled as she looked over at him. David saw what few people ever got to see-the mortal. "I just hope I can pull it off," she replied.

He slid his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her once before guiding her back toward the viewpoint where he had met her. "Well, hope all you want. I have faith in you, Nyx. Why else do you think I volunteered to hold onto the keys to your first command for you?"

"Thanks, David. I mean it."

"No need to thank me. Just get out there and do what you do best."

"Blow shit up?" she asked with a laugh.

He shook his head, recalling the reference. It was the same response she had given him when he asked her why she was taking a commission to special operations. He didn't buy it then; he knew she was taking the spot offered to her for deeper, more personal reasons than career advancement or the chance to access heavy ordinance.

"Precisely." He stood in front of her with his hands on both her shoulders. "You have a good ship, a great crew, and the squad you've pulled together-well, you were always good at bringing out the best in your people. I've got your back, no matter what."

She smiled at him, and he could see traces of relief. It was strange to think that this had all been worked out before she knew anything about it.

"Same here, Anderson." She snapped to attention and saluted him.

He returned it, then winked at her. "Since I'm still your CO for a few more days, what are the chances you would comply with orders to get some rest?"

"Slim to none."

"About what I figured," he replied with a laugh.

"But I could pretend the message broke up in transmission," the commander noted with a raise of her eyebrows. "If it makes you feel better?" She bumped his shoulder with her own and stood close to him for a minute shoulder-to-shoulder, like when they would sit on the edges of the crates in the bay when she was a kid.

"You know when I found that skinny blonde girl tucked up on top of those crates in the cargo bay I could never have imagined all this for you."

"Well, she wouldn't be here if it weren't for people like Dad and you." Shepard bumped him again then started to walk away.

"And where are you off to?" he asked, glancing back at her.

She held her hands out widely with a big grin, walking backwards. "Just following orders, sir." He watched her as she spun around and descended down the stairs that led off toward Citadel Security and the docking area beyond that was home to the Normandy until he officially turned the ship over to her in a matter of days. He knew she wasn't going back to the Normandy to crawl back in her bunk, if she was indeed going back to the ship at all.

v.

As she turned the corner into a corridor heading toward C-Sec she wasn't sure she was even heading back to the ship until she found herself on the dock. Anderson was right, the position she found herself in had become quite overwhelming. A little over a month earlier she was just another grubby operator ankle deep in intergalactic dust traipsing through some pirate hideout to stake out a waypoint in a smuggling operation. Then she had gotten some cryptic radio call, been placed on a new ship that just screamed N7, and wound up sharing trade secrets about alien takedowns with a turian Council Spectre.

Shepard figured her recommendation to and shot at a slot with the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance group had died with Nihlus Kryik on Eden Prime. But even after the turian councilor had reluctantly agreed to the approval of the human, she still hadn't really grasped what was happening. It wasn't a typical appointment ceremony. There was no pomp and circumstance. Just an oath and a mission-a promise and a goal.

Her eyes travelled along the familiar curve of the Normandy's hull. It was a little surreal to think that this had all been planned out in response to a mere recommendation. But, in a way, it was also inspiring to think that enough people had faith in her that they had laid out the preparations for the mere possibility of her becoming a Spectre.

She leaned against the gate and glanced over at the large green insectoid creature busily tapping at a console. "She's a fine ship, isn't she, bug boy?"

The commander nodded once to herself as she pulled a small silver wrapped package out of her pocket, ripping it open and taking a bite. "I remember when I first saw her. It reminded me of when I was little and built models with my Da. I just stared at her. Studying the lines, admiring the beauty the designers had crafted into this vehicle of destruction."

"She certainly is one of a kind."

Shepard stood and turned quickly, her hand instinctively moved to her side arm. "G'morning Lieutenant," she said with a relieved little smile when she saw Alenko leaning on a crate on the other side of the barrier.

Kaidan couldn't help return her smile as she relaxed again, retaking her previous position. "Didn't mean to startle you, ma'am."

"Nah," she grimaced; she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed him when she walked up the dock. "Just chatting up Keeper 47 here."

"Yeah. Noticed that." He held out the bottle of water to her as she tucked away the remainder of the bar she'd been snacking on. "Those things are like eating sand."

"Thanks."

She was glad he opted to turn his attention to her earlier topic of conversation. "But you're right. The Normandy's a marvel. Fast, quiet, state of the art. She's a real powerhouse." He looked back at her with the last statement.

Nyx wasn't sure if it was the look in his eyes or the way he said it, or maybe she just wanted him to be talking about more than the ship. She swallowed at the little nervous lump that suddenly appeared in her throat.

"How are the preparations for the cruise going?" She opted to shift to a topic that would keep her mind firmly in the realm of the rational and professional, she hoped.

He shrugged. "Fine. Still waiting on Command approval for the Council's requests."

"Yeah." She laughed lightly. "Figured that would be a hang up when I read it." She shook her head. But when you get what you want you just have to take it as it comes, she thought as she looked over at the keeper who was still totally oblivious to the two humans on the dock.

"Most of the changeover is good. I think Pressly is still trying to get the medical and food supplies for the aliens. Wrex got invited to C-Sec for a chat about Fist."

Shepard stood and took a few steps before the pacing started. She looked upward and shook her head. "Yeah, I have to handle that in a few hours." Then she turned her eyes on him and Alenko met her gaze."What are you doing out here?"

"It's quiet. Figured I'd steal as much time off the boat as I could justify. From the sounds of everything, this is going to be a long cruise."

"You're telling me." She looked at the bottle of water on the bar then up at him. "I'll let you enjoy your solitude."

When she passed him, he reached out and touched her wrist. She turned toward him as he took at step toward her. She was too aware of his fingers still lingering on her skin when her eyes met his. "If there's anything I can do to help, Shepard. Let me know. Anything," he emphasized.

She looked at him for a long moment. She couldn't decide if she was reading more into this exchange given the insanity around her, but she erred on the side of caution considering her answer with great care. "Will do," she agreed.

When she reached the airlock she just leaned against the wall. Alenko was not something Nyx had been prepared for, and he was proving to be difficult to maneuver past. They'd met before either had any idea who the other was. And she'd been attracted to him from the start but she knew with everything; hell, even before everything, regs made him off limits. But he seemed to be trying her ability to withstand temptation. She just didn't know if it was unintentional or if he meant to be alluring.

vi.

While on the Citadel Shepard found a pattern that seemed to work to combat the massiveness of everything weighing down on her. Increments seemed to work for her, taking things one measurable step at a time seemed less overwhelming than trying to approach the task presented to her in full. And that's how she chose to approach it. After spending an afternoon with Tali and Garrus tracking down some strange signal that was funneling credits from several sources on the Citadel, the three came across a self-aware, thieving AI with a grand plan to have itself installed in a ship to allow it to meet up with the geth.

"I can hack it," Tali swore as the AI threatened to take them all out with the self-destruct it primed when they arrived. And hack it she did. In less than six seconds, Tali broke through the security and disconnected the systems from the explosives, though the circuitry of the system still fried. "Hopefully it was arrogant enough to think I'd fail and didn't send a copy of itself anywhere beforehand."

"Well, it seemed stuck here since it implied it's been in this system for a while. Maybe the coder was smart enough to block its ability to transmit itself," Shepard agreed.

The quarian nodded. "Sounds feasible."

Garrus just looked from one to the other of them. "Are neither of you perturbed that a computer system just tried to murder us all?"

They both looked at him; Shepard laughed and Tali placed her hand delicately over her face mask. "Oh just wait until you meet the geth," the commander chided wryly. "Kill one and you'll swear he just whispered your name to all his buddies in the area when they turn and target you."

"You can't be serious?"

"She's completely serious," Tali said, patting his back lightly as she followed Shepard out of the back room on the Presidium.

The three of them made their way back across the station. They had been gathering a few last minute necessities before the Normandy put out, which Shepard expected to do just after the evening meal so that people could get one last real meal before having to live off whatever was in the mess. When they hit the market wards and a young woman ran over and hugged Shepard tightly.

"Thank you so much, Nyx," she said speaking quickly. "That information you sent me. Priceless. Epicly priceless. I owe you big time." The woman stopped for a moment and looked at the people with the marine she had met for the first time several years earlier.

"Emily Wong," Shepard said. "This is Garrus Vakarian and Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Part of my crew."

"Damn girl. Get a little something-something and you're going to make the Alliance brass sweat."

"Emily and I used to be friends," Shepard added, to which the smaller woman slapped her playfully on the shoulder. "Ow! No need to get violent. You're still my favorite reporter."

"So, that would be why your first interview after becoming a Spectre was with Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani? That pretentious bitch."

"Damn, Emily. I think you've spent way too much time around Alliance soldiers."

The small woman smirked at Shepard. "Well, can she be anything less with that many names."

The commander shrugged. "And just so you know it wasn't my call. She ambushed me in a hallway and stuck her camera in my face. I decided to go for diplomatic rather than punching her out on tape."

"Probably a good call," the reporter mused. "Next time-"

"There will be no next time. You know how I feel about you people." Shepard meant journalists, especially guerilla reporters that would just grab someone without so much as a hello and start rolling.

"Mmhmm. I'll remember that."

"No, remember the data I gave you," Shepard corrected as she started to walk away.

Emily just laughed lightly as she headed off toward her office, while the Normandy crew turned toward the docks. The copy of the data from Fist's files had found its way to Emily's mailbox and her boss had been extremely pleased with the report it garnered. She might not be the face of the news yet, but hers were the stories that got reported and got wheels turning and balls rolling. She knew a fair amount of her success had come through the carefully developed friendship she shared with Commander Shepard. But she knew it was a two-way street. From time to time, Shepard had come to her for intel though by far Wong had received far more than she'd ever been asked for or given.

When Shepard, Garrus, and Tali got back to the ship, she'd suggested they head in without her. She wanted to take in the view one last time. When she hopped the last barrier she saw a hand on the deck behind a crate. "Commander," Alenko greeted as he peeked around his leaning spot. His voice was a little thready.

"What gives, L-T?" she asked playfully as she dropped to the edge of the platform noiselessly.

"Too many people wearing boots in the ship," he observed with a weak laugh. She dangled her legs over the side and leaned her forehead against the bar. "I'm sure that Dr. Chakwas told you, but it's just migraines. It's not a big deal."

"They affect your vision at all?" Her tone was even and calm like she was asking about the weather. If she made a big deal about it she figured it would put him on edge. She'd found that asking a marine about an injury or anything they might see as a shortcoming always went better without any trace of concern in your voice, even if the concern was well intended.

"Not usually. But it has happened."

"Do they happen in the field?"

He was just staring out at the darkness beyond the glow. "Once." He didn't elaborate and she knew the tone in his voice well enough not to push too hard. "They usually flare up after I've been … overactive. Biotically, I mean. Sometimes they just seem to spring up for no reason. Or when I'm stressed."

She nodded. "Just keep me informed, Kaidan. You doing all right otherwise?"

She didn't realize she'd used his first name until he looked at her. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded at her. She leaned back on her palms for a moment and looked up while chastising herself for the slip. She couldn't explain why she'd made the mistake. Then she stood up as quietly as she could, with his eyes still on her.

"We're heading out in a few hours. Pressly's probably started the inspection by now," she said in her recovered command voice.

Shepard strolled back down the gangway alone, which she was rather thankful for. When she entered the ship, Williams was waiting for her. She'd been leaning against the bulkhead chatting with the helmsman, but turned to Shepard when the airlock opened.

The Chief came to attention, "Ma'am," she said as the ship was announcing the commanding officer's return to all aboard.

"As you were, Chief."

Williams nodded then leaned toward her. "I'll do it."

"I know," the commander responded with a smile then she started down the bridge.

"Do what?" Joker said quietly.

"Don't worry about it, helmsman," Shepard replied a little more loudly as she kept walking.

In that instant, Shepard realized she'd just made the exact same play with Chief Williams that the Alliance had made with her. The commander had received a suggestion and found that she concurred with the opinion, then precisely designed her own approach to achieve the desired result. For a moment she heard Anderson's similar admission repeat in her head. And it wasn't the first time she had 'convinced' a subordinate into a recommended position.

Knowing the time to put out was approaching, the commander opted to return to the few tasks she had to complete before the ship left port. The Council wanted to know every identifying characteristic of their newest Spectre, and while the detailed listing of scars and other distinguishable marks was a little embarrassing, it was nothing compared to the invasiveness of the medical screening they had required. The only saving grace in that little debacle had been that they'd allowed Chakwas to conduct it rather than the creepy little salarian who kept sticking his long tongue out when he was typing.

Once again alone in her stark new quarters, the commander walked over to her footlocker and opened it. Nyx knew what she was looking for and where she'd find it-the things that mattered most were always at the bottom. Never seen at a glance but always there, like the parts of her life that mattered to her most and like the people you could count on and really trust. They didn't have to be right there, but you could always feel them around you.

The first photo that came out was one of her and her grandfather, her Daideó had taught her how to shoot and it was his knife that she carried in her boot. He'd given it to her that last day of summer before her mom and dad came returned from a very rare getaway together. He was kneeling beside her, his arms around her, one hand over hers on the grip and the other supporting her other hand as she cradled the blade. They were showing it to her Móraí (grandmother) who had taken the picture. "Now if you take care of her," he'd told her as she looked down in his face as he knelt in the lush grass, his thick brogue lilting off his tongue, "She'll take good care of you. Keep her clean. Only ever use a whetstone to keep her sharp. She belonged to my Da who carried her into war. She saved my life more than once. And now she'll protect you, baby girl."

She just stared at the photo in her hands-staring at his smile. He'd been the first one who knew where she was headed. When she wanted to learn to shoot he'd asked her why. "I want to be a marine like you." Even at a young age she knew her course in life, because of him. He'd smiled and touched her face. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes and asked her why such a pretty girl would want to do something like that. "I'm not a pretty girl," she'd replied. "I'm strong. I can do it. I'm going to help people like you and Da. Fight for people who need it, for you and Móraí, Grandpa and Gran." His grin had widened and he'd nodded approvingly at her.

Shepard set the photo on her desk as the intercom signaled her again. This time it was Pressly telling her they were ready; all crew accounted for, and inspection complete. She headed up to the CIC and joined Joker in the cockpit. She remembered her grandfather's last words to her. "You're smart Nyxy-girl. You might not always know the answer but you can find it out, just keep looking. I know you'll make your ole Daideó proud," he'd whispered against her cheek before he kissed her. She'd hugged his neck so tight, trying to squeeze hard enough that she wouldn't cry. "I love you, Nyxy-girl. I'll always be there for you."

Nyx straightened up as she reached the helm and put her hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Open a ship-wide channel, Joker."