Thirteen :::

In Those Three Days…


Sol System

Earth

North American Territory

Systems Alliance Site: Vancouver

Present Day


So this is what doing the right thing feels like. Having your hands tied, unable to do the littlest things without someone peaking over your shoulder or poking around in your private life, hiding behind the chucked up excuse of 'just following orders'. Hell, you can't even have the luxury to piss in an actual toilet anymore. It's these little things John Shepard hadn't thought of when he turned the SR-2 Normandy over to the Alliance. He had every good intention in the universe to do so, but now, as he sits alone at the table in the empty mess hall, all those previous thoughts are bashed to the back of his brain and replaced by regret.

Going on six months since the Commander arrived in the Sol System, towing in what was left of the Cerberus vessel. From that point on, Shepard was grounded by Alliance Command and relieved of his rank and duty. The bigwigs in Alliance Command confiscated the ship, which held the remains of fifty servicemen and colonists alike, along with those that…died and transformed. The first responders that boarded the Normandy had no idea what the hell happened. That was until one unlucky Alliance Marine mistaken the many caskets holding the remains of the turned colonists as weapons crates, and had the shock of her life when she opened one and saw for herself.

"I told her not to," Shepard had said, during one of about a dozen debriefs from Alliance Naval Intelligence. "I stated that they were coffins, but she nor her CO believed me."

"Reading Major Colling's report, it's stated that the bodies inside the coffins didn't look… human."

Shepard lingered an eye on the three rear-admirals, seated behind a desk slightly raised off the floor and ornamented with the Systems Alliance flag that solidified their authority over him.

A stone had set in Shepard's gut as he chose his next words carefully. "They once were, ma'am. I believe without a doubt that the colonists my team and I extracted were victimized by the Collectors, who were…"

"Yes, agents to these Reapers," the admiral seated to the far left side of the desk said dismissively. "We read your report, Commander. As detailed as it was, there still isn't any factual evidences that these—Collectors you refer to them as had any allegiances to the so-called Reapers."

Shepard chewed on his tongue, unable to fathom the idea that Naval Intelligence would just dismiss his hard facts as fabrications. To be honest, he wasn't really that surprised. Years prior, the Citadel Council dismissed his claims about the Reaper threat, even after Sovereign attacked the damn thing in clear view of a few million people. No matter how detailed—how hard he illustrates the facts, the galactic brass that make all the decisions would always turn a blind eye to everything he's done for them. Especially now, since the Commander's been running around with Cerberus… no one in Alliance Command would trust a word he breaths.

"Well even if you don't believe me with the Reapers," Shepard began. "It still doesn't detour the fact that hundreds of human were killed by these aliens. It's also valid that the Collectors only targeted humans and no other species, so even if you're a hint skeptical on the Reaper Threat… you can't denial those the Collectors kidnapped and ultimately slaughtered to fuel their agenda."

Admiral Forester, the one seated to the right rubbed at the ridge of his eyebrow. "Commander, no one on this panel is dismissing what happened to the human colonists taken in the Terminus Systems. Your affiliation with Cerberus, along with your incooperation to elaborate on certain aspects of your mission has lead us to a stalemate on where to draw the conclusion with you."

Shepard arched an eyebrow to the Admiral's sentence, "incooperation? Sir, with all due respect I haven't fabricated or mislead this panel at any point."

Admiral Florence Black drew a slight smirk, "you might not have lied, but you certainly are telling the full picture, are you now, Commander?"

Shepard remained silent, clenching his jaw.

"After you and your team emerged out of the Omega Four relay and after the incident occurred onboard, you made course-way to an otherwise uninhabited, remote region of space, to a star system called Sowilo." Admiral Black went on to say. "From the nav-computer recovered from the Normandy, we were able to determine that the vessel hadn't moved in over three days."

Shepard fought from fidgeting in his seat, disciplining himself to remain as still as possible, eyes unblinking and face solid with focused determination.

"We were badly damaged," Shepard muttered. "Our mass effect core was compromised and our hull had multiple breaches."

"Then why didn't you order your helmsmen to plot a course for Omega Station?" Admiral Tyrell asked. "Why risk a seven hour FTL transit to an uncharted region of space if the ship had suffered critical integrity issues of that magnitude?"

Shepard anticipated such a question, and had a convincing response right off the bat. "My orders were to rendezvous with a Cerberus cruiser," he began to say, keeping his voice leveled and substantial. "They wanted the data on the Collector base… I refused to give it to them. As I've stated on the record on multiple occasions both written and oral: I've never worked with or for Cerberus willingly. They provided me with the means, with resources, but everything I did was in light of the Alliance and for the human race. I knew what they were the moment that revived me in that lab of theirs."

"So you refused to deliver the intel," Admiral Tyrell began, twirling his hand as in indication of more to say. "And what, Cerberus just departed the system and left you be? They didn't attempt to retrieve it by force? Because of what I've seen and read in your report, the Normandy was in no condition to defend itself. Even a squadron of volus fighters could've taken you out with one burst."

Shepard shrugged, "I though the same thing, Admiral. We were outgunned and outnumbered yet Cerberus withdrew from the system, leaving us behind."

A pause, much longer than Shepard was willing lingered in the air. Shepard could feel the tension in the room as the three admiral's eyed him and their datapads prompted up on the desk in front of them. There was no hiding from facts he illustrated in his lengthy after-action report. It took more than one mind to actually draft it up… and to be severely honest with himself, not all of it was true. Shepard continued to keep himself composed, despite the swirling thoughts on the fake accounts swimming in his head.

"So after Cerberus departed this system," Admiral Black began. "And spared your crew and the vessel… why didn't you depart soon after? There was no logical reason in you staying within the region for…" she glanced back down at her datapad, tacking on "eighty-one hours." She folded her hands on top the desk. "That's an awful long time to be lingering in a deadly sector of space with no habitable worlds, spaces docks or anything that the Alliance wouldn't know about."

Shepard felt a numb sensation tame his body; "we taxed our mass effect core getting to the system—as I've stated for the record. We had to launch probes to collect whatever ezzo we could harness from the system's major gas giant."

The admirals' collective gazes fell back down to their datapads. Shepard knew each of them saw the paragraph he was talking about, along with a drawn-out info dump on the Normandy's propulsion bay, the damaged interior infrastructure along with the biohazard threat of alien and human blood splatter tainting the decks, which slowed the repair process down. Of course, most of what they were reading was BS fabrication, more or less.

"We repaired what we could while the core restarted itself," Shepard spoke in the Admirals' concentrative silence. "Processed the dead… took head counts on surviving members of my crew… assigned duties to those that could still make rational decisions…"

Images flashed before Shepard's eyes. Vivid and clear, showing the hectic aftermath of the attack. He relived that moment he loaded that little girl's body into that faceless coffin, lined in the hanger bay alongside the dozens that were down there…

"…Commander?"

Breaking out of his daze, Shepard connected his eyes onto Admiral Tyrell, "sir?"

The admiral gave Shepard his full attention. "I asked you for the name of the ship."

His attention clear, Shepard squinted in confusion, "name of what ship, sir?"

"Of this Cerberus Cruiser you rendezvous with," Tyrell went on, sliding his datapad aside, cuffing a hand to his chin. "What was the name of it?"

Damnit, he's on to something… Shepard thought.

"Because I didn't see an identifier of the ship's name, classification," Tyrell shrugged, in a nonchalant matter that concealed what was really on his mind. But Shepard knew what the Admiral was thinking, he'd found a hole in his story, and the admiral was determined to expand that weakness.

"I can't recall that information sir," Shepard said.

"Can't or unwilling?" Admiral Forester injected. The grey haired man had a stricter tone than before, almost accusing. "You say you didn't work for Cerberus willingly, but from our point of view, it is obviously clear that you're also withholding potential evidences on this organization's actives."

"I've told you everything that I could," Shepard said, knotting his hands together in his lap. "Cerberus aren't exactly an open book. It's not like they told me everything the second I woke up." He waited a beat, separating his hands and relaxing them on his lap. "And Cerberus aren't even the real threat, it's the Reapers! They're planning a full invasion on all sentient life—determined to do what they did to my crew on you and everyone you ever seen or cared about… and you're worried about a damn name to a ship!"

The admirals stiffened in their chairs. "Correct your tone, Commander," Tyrell said firmly.

Shepard shook his head, "no?"

Tyrell cocked his head sharply, expression pale and eyes bulging, "excuse me?"

Shepard shot up out his seat and stormed up to the desk. Within seconds of his actions, Shepard felt two hard hands clamp onto this shoulders and digging into his biceps; the two Alliance Marines positioned at their stationary post at the side of the room reacted. Despite the two marine's efforts, Shepard hardly bulged an inch back when they attempt to drag him back into his seat. They had no idea that he wasn't exactly a normal human anymore.

"I'm not gonna sit here like some criminal having a trial!" Shepard said…shouted, really. "Screw talking about Cerberus. Fuck them! All I want is to get back out there and kill that Reaper son-of a bitch who killed my crew!" Spittle flew out of Shepard's mouth and the rage ate at his insides like a hot oven. He couldn't hear his own shouts behind the pounding ring that bounced inside his skull.

"Escort the Commander from this panel at once," Admiral Black said to the marines. "We'll continue this debrief at a later date."

"Don't bother!" Shepard said, snatching his shoulder free of the marines. "I'll gladly walk myself out."


Chewing his food in silence, Shepard savors the tasteless flavor of the Alliance food ration. He tries to engross himself in an extranet news story, but his mind continues to fall back to that debriefing with Alliance Naval Intelligence that went south real fast. It's true, Shepard never really felt like himself ever since Cerberus spent two years reconstructing his mind and body. Miranda assured him that there was nothing wrong with him, and that he was as good as when he fought and killed Saren and Sovereign on the Citadel. But that Shepard didn't blast biotic waves from his body… nor did he execute unarmed mercenaries that came in his way. The older Shepard was humble, patient… those aspects flew out the window the second Shepard learned the Collectors were taking humans and the Alliance wasn't doing anything about it, but a known terrorist group was. The only thing on Shepard's mind now is to stop the Reapers and their insidious agendas to off organics for good. He doesn't need Cerberus nor the Alliance to do that, he just needs to get back out there. But getting off Earth now is a pipe dream.

"Mind if I join you, Commander?"

Glancing off his datapad, Shepard looks up and sees Rear-Admiral David Anderson taking a seat in the pew across from him.

"Don't know if you can still call me Commander anymore, Admiral," Shepard says, setting his datapad aside.

"Shit, after what you did, I'm surprise they let you in this building," Anderson says, settling in his seat.

"Each day I spend here feels more like I'm in prison," Shepard says, eyeing the ceiling and noting the omnidirectional security camera, spying in on him. "You know they won't even allow me to go outside? I can't even take a proper shit in a toilet that I can flush anymore."

"That bad huh? Well It could be worse," Anderson says. "At least Alliance Command's choosing to work with you Shepard? A lotta guys that walked in yours shoes would've been hung and left for the vultures."

Shepard rubs a hand at his tired eyes, "they haven't cannibalized me yet because of all the PR. First human Spectre, traitor to the Alliance… deranged conspiracy theorist—you name it, they've thrown it on me."

"Shepard, the Alliance is tossing you a lifeline, it's the least they can do in spite of what's going on."

Sighing into his hand, Shepard grabs his datapad off the table. "I know, the batarians are pissed off at us for blowing that relay," lowering the device, Shepard eyes Anderson. "But it had to be done, Anderson. You and I both know why."

Anderson opens his mouth, attempting to say something aloud only to catch himself. Leaning close on his elbows, he says in a near whisper, "to stop the Reapers—I know, but that's not how the Alliance or the galaxy sees it. Far as they're concerned, we just killed three-hundred thousand batarian citizens—the biggest terrorist attack in galactic history!"

"Which'll pale in comparison as to what the Reapers will do to us once they make it out of Dark Space."

An astounded look comes over Anderson's expression. The admiral slides back, "I'm beginning to wonder if the colonists were human… would we had made the same decision."

Shepard shakes his head dismissively, taking a sip of water from his cup. "Human, batarian hanar… wouldn't matter if the Reapers got through that Relay. We delayed the inevitable, Anderson. The Reapers—they have plans for every galactic race and they'll be no way we can stop them. Not if we're at each other throats." Shepard lowers his cup back on the table. "And I don't care if that colony was full of cute turian babies… I would've set the relay off the second—the second I heard Harbinger and its Reapers were coming through."

A frown forms on Anderson's face, as the older man crosses his arms.

Noting his own words, Shepard dials back the cynicism and his tone. "Sorry. It's just… I can't stand being here while the Reapers are out there. I can't stomach the fact that they got the last laugh."

"What happened onboard the Normandy…" Anderson says, after exhaling strongly through his nostrils. "No ship commander should go through. It's obvious this Harbinger Reaper fired a cheap shot when your back was turned. Fortunately," Anderson extends an arm, clamping a reassuring firm hand on Shepard's shoulder. "You made it back. You beat that Reaper SOB."

Shepard nods in agreement to that. "I still don't know what happened to my crew," he says. "Dead and the live ones."

Anderson withdraws his arm, "last I heard, they were swept away and interviewed by non-Alliance personnel months ago. Naval Intelligence gave them the green light. Now I've never seen these people before in my life, I didn't even have clearance to ask who they were."

"And Naval Intelligence has the audacity to tell me I'm the one with the big secrets," Shepard says, pointing a thumb at his own chest.

"Well, you were with Cerberus, Shepard," Anderson says. "Hell, I even saw you with my own two eyes back on the Citadel."

Shepard cocks a grin, "yeah I remember. Sorry if I gave you a heart attack."

The two men fall into a leisure silence, until its broken by Anderson. "Shepard, there's something I think you should know."

Bringing his eyes up, Shepard reads Anderson's face.

"What happened on the Normandy… wasn't isolated."

Sitting up straight, Shepard gives Anderson his full attention.

"It…it happened elsewhere," Anderson goes on, stressing his words. "The Normandy…"

"I know," Shepard whispers.

Anderson's eyes widen, a fixed expression of confusion and shock warped on his face. "You… you know?"

Shepard dips his head in a brisk nod.

"How?"

Shepard bites hard on his tongue. He has no reasonable explanation to tell his former Captain. Anderson may be in his corner on the impending Reaper threat, but Shepard knew he'd be pushing the boundaries of Anderson's belief if he told him how he knew the alien outbreak on the Normandy was just one of a dozen that occurred across the galaxy.

"You wouldn't believe me," Shepard says shaking his head slowly. "Not on this one, sir."

Anderson held a look of disbelief. "How can you say that? After all we've been through together Shepard, I've always been there to council you…"

"Sir, just trust me, okay?" Shepard says. "Just trust me."

Shepard sees no point in cooking up a lie to Anderson. He could've simply said Cerberus had intel on the matter, but Shepard knew that'll detour Alliance Brass into pouring more resources in investigate Cerberus, which is a waste of time. The truth is something Anderson should always be made aware of. He's the only person within the Alliance that Shepard can actually trust. But what happened on the Normandy… Shepard can't drag Anderson into that mess. It ran deeper than Shepard could've ever imagined.

"Parton the intrusion, sirs."

Looking up to the source of the voice, Shepard sees his minder, James Vega coming over.

"But Command wants to see you, sir."

"If it's alright with you, Sergeant, think I can escort the Commander down to the panel?" Anderson asks.

Vega shrugs, "don't think I can say no to you, Admiral."

"That's a yes then," Anderson says, sweeping his leg over the pew and standing. "Come on Commander."

Collecting his datapad, Shepard stands and follows after Anderson, making their way for the mess hall exit. Once the two made it to the marginally busy hall, Anderson leans in and says, "you and I have a lot of catching up to do."

Shepard fights a grin from forming on his face. "Don't worry, I'll mail you the book once I'm done writing it."


Seated before the three Admirals, Shepard took the chance to look around the room, noting it now has four Marines rather than two this time around. An unnecessary show of force really.

"Commander, welcome back," Admiral Black says. "Hope you had a pleasant week to clear your mind before we start today."

"I have, ma'am," Shepard says. "And I'll like to apologize for my previous actions. I was out of line." Shepard darts his eyes to Admiral Tyrell; the other man holding a deadpan expression, twirling a stylus pen between his fingers.

"This panel acknowledges your apology, Commander," Admiral Forester says. "Now let's take this panel off the floor, shall we?"

Shepard nods.

"Today Commander, we'll like to pick up where we left off last week," Admiral Black starts. "Now we've had time to digest your after-action report, commander, and I fear we've hit a snag in some of your accounts, preceding your assault on the Collector Base. This panel has its reasons to believe that this Cerberus Cruiser you encountered, never existed."

"We recovered the Normandy's hail recorder," Forster pitches in. "There is no evidence supporting that a ship-to-ship comline was ever established with this vessel at the time you said you rendezvoused with it."

Shepard plays the nonchalant card, "why would I make this up?"

"You tell us?" Admiral Tyrell fires back. "It's a simple matter of yes or no, Commander. No more half-truths."

"I've already told you what happened," Shepard says. "You spat in my face about the Reapers, now you're spitting in my face about this trivial matter. How am I supposed to defend myself when every step I take you criticize with suspicion?"

"Why do you feel as if you're defending yourself?" Admiral Black asks. "We just want the full truth on what happened in those three days you spent in that star system, Commander."

Bottling his annoyance best he can, Shepard says, "I've already provided you with that information. What more do you need?"

"Incorrect, Commander," Tyrell says. "The account you gave us counteracts your written statement. You claim you fired off various probes to replenish resources for your vessel. How would that be possible if your launch bay was incapable of launching these probes? I didn't have to read your report, Commander, I saw the ship myself… the day it was towed in. The exterior hull surrounding the launch bay was completely caved in, rendering it inadequate for typical operations. So we will ask you again Commander, one last time. What were you doing in those three days in the Sowilo System?"

Son of a bitch! Shepard screeches inside his head. These bastards are more relentless than he ever predicted. They aren't letting this thing go anytime soon, and Shepard's running out of convincing gags to distract them with.

"'The Alliance is tossing you a lifeline,'" Anderson had told him.

"Damnit," Shepard mutters.

"What was that Commander?" Admiral Forester asks. "Speak louder please, for the record."

Contemplating his next words thoroughly, Shepard lowers his head, preparing himself.

"I…I lied," he coughs out.

"A little louder than that," Tyrell says.

"I said I lied," Shepard says with more volume, his heart flushes cold. "You want to know what happened in those three days..." he pauses suddenly, considering where to go with this. "Well, I…"

A noisy snap of the door opening to the briefing hall stuns Shepard along with the Admirals. Booted footsteps echo off the tile until a shaken Alliance Marine enters the chamber, followed behind Vega and Anderson.

"Admiral, what the hell are you doing?!" Admiral Forester exclaims. "This is a secure area, dismiss immediately."

"Sorry sir—ma'am, but we've just received word that Titan Station has been attacked," Vega dribbles out in one rush breath.

Shepard shoots up out his chair, "Reapers!" He mutters under his breath.

"Attacked?!" Admiral Black says. "By who?"

"The batarians?" Tyrell speculates.

"We don't know all the details yet," Anderson says. "But I've been informed that Admiral Hackett mobilized the Fifth Fleet to secure the moon—that's all we know so far."

"Alright, this briefing is dismissed," Black says. "Sergeant, escort the Commander to a secure location, everyone else report to the ARC immediately."


A/N: Well that's a wrap, everyone. Man so what's the deal with Shepard huh? He already knew that the Normandy outbreak wasn't the only outbreak, but how? Why is he unwilling to tell Alliance Command and even Anderson the truth? Why did he tell Anderson he won't believe him if he told him? What is he hiding? What does he know? What happened in those three days in the Sowilo System? Why so many damn questions? Hmmmm… find out next update, maybe.

P:S: Way back In chapter three, Shepard told Joker to plot a course for the Sowilo System, BEFORE the outbreak happened. So what was the deal behind that?