The galaxy is a funny thing. I've travelled from one end to the other, I've seen stars being born and stars dying, I've watched entire planets disappear into black holes. I've seen it at its most chaotic, it's most heroic, it's most dejected and it's most wonderful. Each system and star is different from the last, each nebula its own work of art; from the electric purple of Widow, to the green, orange, blue of Hawking Eta. It is quite simply magnificent, even at its worst it's amazing but when viewed with out perspective, in a bubble of space and time everything that makes it what it is just becomes white noise.

FTL has fascinated me since I was a child, since the first time I saw my Father's ship accelerated away from a mass relay in a blaze of red and blue. Not the science behind it, although I've studied that at length, but the way it makes things look and how it makes you feel. Time and space are relative, Einstein told us this, if you isolate one you can control the other, but the human mind is built on our experiences and sometimes what I see and what I know contradict one another. I see the ultra violet radiation that streaks passed the Normandy's windows, vivid blue lines as striking as lightning yet I know thatI shouldn't be able to, that the human eye isn't capable of it. We shouldn't be able to exist out of time but we do, we shouldn't be able to alter the fabric of space but we can. We shouldn't be able to travel faster then light but here we are.

Standing a few feet behind Joker's helm I watch the world outside shift back into focus and wonder absently why these thoughts always occur to me as we exit FTL. I push it to the back of my mind however, watching the window with a growing sense of dread, there are more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.

"Space Station Antarctica, this is the SSV Normandy requesting clearance for our approach."

It looms in the distance, five impossibly long arms stretching out from a central spire, hanging in the sky like a giant, living star. The last time I stood on that station I was thirteen, my Mother was an officer on a cruiser, my Father serving as their temporary chief engineer and I was working my way through an Alliance run academy. It was unusual for them to be stationed in one place for so long, I think we stayed there for close to two years before my Father's longing for adventure won out and we moved. The sight of it now, silhouetted against an orange cloud of gas is oddly moving and I feel thirteen again.

"That is a big station."

Ashley says over my shoulder as she peers out as well. I almost laugh; trust the Chief to put my in inner most thoughts in such a succinct way. Compared to the Citadel its nothing, the population barely in the hundreds of thousands but as human territories go it's second only to the Arturus.

"Very impressive." Garrus agrees, his reptilian eyes glinting. "I didn't know humans could build anything without the help of the turians, let alone something quite so imposing."

"It's weak." Wrex grunts, arms folded. "Give me three krogans and a freighter and I could have control of it within the hour. Fifteen minutes if they were enraged…which they always are."

Joker shakes his head. "Yeah, let's say that a little louder guys, because what I really want when we arrive is to be invited to up for an inquisition."

"I thought that was the point in coming here?"

"The Admirals prefer enquiry rather then inquisition." I say in response to Garrus's question, still watching the looming station. "It makes it sound less…painful."

"Human's." Wrex clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Afraid of pain. Krogan's encourage it. It makes you more inclined to talk."

"Don't get me wrong Wrex, it's going to be painful. They'd just rather we didn't know that before we turn up, they have this strange idea that it will make us less likely to come."

It's rare for the Alliance brass to come together like this, especially so far from the Arturus system but then again it's not often humanity takes command of an intergalactic council that has been standing since before we even had indoor plumbing. They've come to discuss our future, to argue about how to progress our species but first, before any of this can happen they will question and dissect every decision that I've made, every order that I've given and every life that has been lost since I took command of the Normandy. It's going to be so much fun I'm not sure I can stand it.

"Looks like a good turn out Skipper." Ashley says pointing towards the docking bay. "The Geneva, the Cairo, the Shenyang…. I think the entire Fifth Fleet is here."

"And more." Garrus adds.

He's right. The fifth, the second, the third; I can see ships from every fleet in the Navy including carriers from the Everest and Kilimanjaro class dreadnaughts, which chills me.

"So many ships in one place." The krogan grumbles, storming off to, I would imagine, gather the few things he owns together. "Weak."

"Just more people for the party Ash." I reply, ignoring him and giving her a wry smile. "And by party I of course mean long winded pain in the ass form filling waste of time."

"Woo Commander, way to let the good times roll." Joker interjects with a laugh, hands flying over his controls. "It's not too late to for me to turn this baby around you know, hang tail it to the nearest colony-"

"SSV Normandy this is Alliance Control, you are cleared for-"

"Quiet now." Joker mutes the speaker and looks back at me. "Just think; bootlegged beer, actual sunshine, adoring groupies hanging on our every word?"

"They have bars on the station Joker, good ones." Ashley cuts in; her hands resting on the back of his chair. "That sell real beer made from real hops."

"Groupies Chief." Joker replies stressing each syllable. "Grew-pees."

"Groupies?" Garrus asks.

"Girls." Ashley answers.

"Ah."

"Tempting." I acknowledge, as the traffic controller calls again, and considering what's waiting for me on there it is. "But I've never been one to refuse an invitation. Send conformation and bring us in nice and easy."

"Aye aye Shepardo." He fiddles with the controls. "Antarctica this is the SSV Normandy, we read you and are making our approach."

"Roger that Normandy. Welcome to the Antarctica, its good to see you."

"Gee, aren't they polite."

The Normandy slows, thrusters facing backwards to oppose the forward momentum. Joker takes control, guiding us in gently with the skills of a practiced helmsman and Garrus takes the seat next to him once occupied by Kaidan. Ashley on the other hand doesn't leave she instead comes closer, gazing out the window, a bright, child like glint in her dark eyes and I see something in her that not many people are privileged to; pure joy. This is all she's ever wanted. Serving her planet, honouring her family, keeping the peace are all noble goals but the real reason she enlisted, the deep seated, rarely spoken of need that keeps her moving forward is very simple; she wants to see space. In a career where she has been tirelessly and repeatedly pushed down and held back by superiors who judge her by her ancestors actions Gunnery Chief Williams has never been given the chance.

"How long do you think we'll be stationed here?" She asks, practically drilling her left foot into the floor with poorly hidden excitement. "I'd love to have a go on the anti G training centre they've got, maybe try my hand on the shooting simulations. I think I could show these spacers how a real marine rolls."

"Hey."

"Obviously I don't mean you Skipper. I already know I can hand you your ass in a lunchbox." She punches me cheerfully in the shoulder, her wide grin diminished ever so slightly by the stitches along her cheek. "I was looking for a challenge. Oh!" Her eyes widen. "That's the Abraham Lincoln! The Ararat must be near by, maybe they'll do a fly by, you think if we ask their XO nicely they'll…. what?"

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams," I can't control the stupid smug look on my face. "You're a ship spotter."

"A ship spotter?"

"Someone who spots ships."

Ashley looks at me banefully. "Thank you for clearing that up for me Skipper. I know what a ship spotter is; I'm not one of them."

"Right." I nod, and point towards the cruiser in the bay two across from us. "What's that one?"

"That's the Warsaw….Shut up." She folds her arms and pouts. "Alright, fine. My dad used to bring me back holo's of the ships he served on. It's nice seeing them close up you know? He was here actually, when he was a cadet. He talked about this place all the time, it's been one of my ambitions to see it." She peers out the window, her eye brows knitted. "Is it unpatriotic to say its ugly? Because it kind of looks like the back end of an elcor with a keeper up its ass."

The laugh the escapes me catches me completely by surprise and I have to cover my mouth with the back of my hand. Garrus and Joker look over at us, frowning; I coyly turn away from them and begin to walk to the airlock as the docking clamps attach themselves to our hull.

"It might not be pretty on the outside, but as the old adage goes it's what's on the inside that counts."

Ashley follows at my side. "So it's pretty inside?"

"Hell no, it's a dump. Everything breaks as soon as you touch it. The plumbing is always shutting off, there are constant black outs. The newer arms might be better but when I was here it needed a complete re-haul."

There's a soft hiss and a small moan, a second of metal scratching on metal and a dull thump.

"And the clamps still need work apparently."

The light on the door flashes alternate red and green, the screen above it shows a tunnel extending towards us.

"Where's T'soni? I'd have thought this was right up her alley. You know 'alien' cultures, foreign lands, strange….architecture."

Liara's name disarms me momentarily but I try not to react, instead keep my eyes on the screen.

"Architecture?" The airlock hisses as the pressures match. "You think Liara is interested in, of all things, human architecture?"

"Hell I don't know, she's a scientist, I figured she was into anything….human."

"Ash." I warn, making eye contact with her reflection in steel.

"What? Is it meant to be some kind of big secret?" She grins at me, but does do me the courtesy of lowering her voice a little. "Don't worry I'm not going to rat you out to the board or anything Skipper, it's up to you if you go blue. So where is she?"

"I imagine she's packing."

The sound of locks disengaging.

"Packing?"

"Yeah," The airlock doors open. "She's leaving."

Her face drops, I see it the corner of my eye but before she can ask me the question that I'm sure is burning on her lips the Normandy's doors part, revealing Admiral Hackett and three armed marines standing in decontamination.

"Good evening Admiral." I say with a bright, forced smile.

"Commander." He nods properly as the marines take a few steps forward. "By order of the Systems Alliance Navy, I here by commandeer this vessel and it's crew and…" One marines take my wrist, Ashley bristles at my side. "And place you in custody of the Alliance military police until such time you are either acquitted or sentenced."

"You've got to be kidding me! Get your hands off her." Ashley demands, Pressly, Garrus and those crewmen near enough by have circled behind her. The turian is eyeing the marine's weapons.

Pressly steps forward. "What are the charges Admiral?"

"The illegal appropriation of an Alliance vessel, one count of breaking lockdown, thirty-one counts of mutiny via command and three counts destruction of Alliance property." Hackett reels, enraging Ashley further.

"You've got no damn right,"

"Gunnery Chief Williams watch you tone or I'll have you arrested for insubordination."

"Screw you Hackett." She throws her hand in the air. "After everything she's don-"

"Ash!" I interrupt with a stare. Garrus steps forward.

"If this is how the Alliance treats all its heroes," He states, his visor glinting. "No wonder you have so few."

"Garrus!"

The crew has a look in their eyes that tells me my no firearms rule while aboard is a good one. The marines flanking me stiffen, fingers poised millimetres away from an international incident. Admiral Hackett glances at me under his heavy set brow, clearly thinking the same.

"Enough." I shrug the grip on my wrist away. "We might not like this but we're soldiers, act like it. Pressly, you have the deck, look after it till I get back. The rest of you," I stare them down, "enjoy your shore leave you've earned it."

With that I allow them to lead me away.

xXoXx

The chair I'm sat on is cold and uncomfortable, its rigid back bites into my spine, aggravating my broken ribs and worsening my mood. The clock on the wall says I've been here two hours, but it feels more like five. I'm not the most serene of people at the best of times, but when I'm tired, hungry and in pain I really loose my patience. And this is just a waste of time.

Two days ago I received my orders to rendezvous with the Antarctica and from the tone in Anderson's voice I knew there was more to this then he would tell me. With a little pushing he broke.

I kept it from my crew, even from Liara, the only person who even had a notion of what awaited us on this station was Joker but he was unusually quiet about it. Part of me hoped I was misreading the nervous inflexion of Anderson's voice and that it was simple paranoia picked up in a quest across the galaxy that has seen me betrayed more then once but nothing is ever that easy. Sure enough as soon as we docked they arrived to take me away, I was hoping they'd have given me more time but I assume they didn't want to take any chances that I'd disappear into the stations depths. My crew may not have been expecting this but I was, and honestly as I was led to an interrogation cell by Hackett, flanked on either side by armed guard, I was suddenly hit by a powerful feeling of relief. After months of running away, of fighting for our lives and falling foul of geth traps, thorian creepers and Cerberus plots it must be over, it must be. The only reason for the Alliance to ground me is that we're safe.

It wasn't till the door closed and the locks engaged that I realised the idiocy of this sentiment. Of course we're not safe, of course it's not over it's barely started. Saren may have gone but the reapers are still coming and the only way this will ever be over is with their defeat or my eventual death but for the briefest of moments the calm in me was nice, comforting. Now I'm just pissed off again.

Standing I place one hand on my side in a trivial attempt to lesson the pain in my chest and relieve some of the tension then move to the corner of the room. I've spent my entire life in space, on ships and stations, I'm used to the compact quarters that go hand in hand with that, but when the door is locked from the other side the closeness of the walls takes on a new meaning. Clenching and flexing my fingers I try to fight back the rising sense of claustrophobia as my body hums with frustration and energy; it's a dangerous combination. Rotating my shoulder and massaging my neck I reach instinctively for my pain pen before remember it was taken from me at processing.

"Damn it." I kick at the desk chair with the base of my boot. It rocks side ways, its legs leaving the floor for a fraction of a second before the magnetic clamps kick in and pull it back down with a solid thud. The impact of my foot against it sends a shockwave through my legs and up to my shattered ribs, the feeling some what similar to being head butted by a rampaging krogan. I buckle forward as my legs give way.

"Christ." I gasp, holding my side as I try to regulate my breathing. A face appears in the orange window in the wall a few moments later, a young Private with pale green eyes and a worried expression. With a glare and hand gesture taught to me by Garrus I ask him politely to leave and slump down between the desk and the wall.

For a long while I just sit staring into the middle distance, trying to take control of myself and to not let this situation get to me. I tell myself this will be over soon, that there is no way I will be found guilty of these charges against me because deep down I know I won't. There is more to this then that, I can see the traces of deeper reasons but can't quite bring them together and the more I think the more I feel the walls close in on me. Knees hugged to my chest, head resting against the cold slick wall I'm overwhelmed by déjà vu. The feelings that course through me are jarringly familiar; frustration, disbelief, insanity, rage, helplessness, I've felt this exact cocktail not too long ago. I slammed my fist into a locker, I sank to the floor, I cradled my head in my hands and fought back tears but the difference that day was that door wasn't locked from the outside and she was there to catch me. I could pace and curse and loose my mind because with a simple touch of her hand against my cheek she brought me back to earth.

I wish Liara was here now.

Staring up at the ceiling I trace the rivets and grooves with my eyes, standard Alliance issue, gun ship grey and royal blue, the same as those fitted on every star ship and station in the fleet. The last time I stared at some so intently Liara slept soundly beside me, head on my chest, the sheets resting against her back, her breathing deep and slow. I could feel her heart beat against mine, not the rhythmic thumping that I'm so used to but an uneven staccato beat followed by a prolonged pause that stretches just a little too long to ever be confused with human. Not that I could ever think of her as one, not that I'd ever want to.

I regret thinking about her as soon as the sweeping strokes of her name take form in my mind. It used to be that the thought of her brought quivers of excitement to my stomach, and a tingle to my skin. At times during the hunt for Saren those moments in her quarters, when all we'd do is talk and laugh and she'd smile at me and confuse her words, were all that sustained me. Now she's leaving and I'm stuck in here, wasting what little time we have left together. The thought of her departing without ever knowing how much she means to me is too much, that our previous conversation might be our last enrages me. I'm on my feet, my fist slamming into the door over and over before the rational part of brain has chance to fire up. Hand verses steel never ends in my favour, I should have learnt that by now.

There's the sound of muffled voices on the other side of the door, raised voices, two of them, arguing in the distance; I press my ear against the metal in an attempt to hear more of their conversation. One of the voices belongs to Hackett, I would recognise his distinctive resonance anywhere, the other is higher, less authoritative; the guard who looked in on me earlier perhaps. No matter how much I strain I can only make out the shapes of the words and nothing more, they could be coming to release me or deciding whether or not to move me to a more secure cell. Old interrogation rooms like this haven't been updated in years, they still use the same Sentry-five locking mechanism they did when I lived here; I could hack my way out of then, I can damn well do it again now and they know it.

The words get louder, more fully formed as the people on the other side of the door come closer. There is a groaning from deep within the door, the engaging of clogs and gears as someone of the outside keys into the lock. Taking a few steps back I lean against the indented window and fold my arms. The door splits in four and recedes into the walls, leaving Hackett standing in place, a data-pad in hand. He never looks the way I imagine, his hair is more receded and eyes darker then I expect and the way he holds himself doesn't fit with my mental picture, I'm not sure why.

"Admiral."

"Commander." He takes a seat at the desk, and gestures between me and the chair opposite. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long."

"Any longer and you might have had an incident." I smile at him, sliding down into the seat with my arms folded. "Do you honestly think that rookie could have kept me in if I'd decided to leave?"

"He wouldn't stand a hope in hell," He smiles at me, pushing the data-pad in my direction. "You'll be glad to know Commander you've been cleared of all charges against you."

"That's a relief, for a minute there I was worried I'd actually have to stand some kind of trial." I reply dryly picking up the data-pad and scrolling through the list of crimes against my name. "I never could get to three counts of destruction of property, two maybe, but where'd the third come from?"

"Trumped up charges, I'm not even entirely confident mutiny by command is a valid offence but I just wanted to cover all the bases." He shrugs, taking the pad back again. "The welcome we received from you crew was surprising, if I'd have known they were going to be quite so objectionable I would have brought more men."

"I don't think it would have mattered, a few marines against my crew?" I grin at him. "Ashley alone could take them."

"Yes. Speaking of Gunnery Chief Williams, she's been badgering every IntAf officer she can find trying to procure your release. Her and your engineer, Adams is it? They've been outside processing for nearly an hour, eventually I had to have them forcibly removed. Frankly it's a hassle I could have done without."

"Because as you can tell I'm thrilled about this whole damn situation." I don't mean for my tone to be quite so derisive but my patience is waning. "Don't get me wrong Sir I appreciate that you're bound by certain restrictions but you must be aware what a galactic waste of time this has all been."

He rubs the bridge of his nose with callused fingertips. "I am very sorry about all of this Shepard. It's a bureaucratic joke really after everything you've done for this galaxy…" He shrugs a little. "Honestly? I don't think there's one officer in this navy who even considered finding you guilty but in order for you not to be tried again for this there needs to be a paper trail." He turns his palms upwards. "As I said bureaucracy."

"Great, well it's been nice to see you again Admiral, we should do lunch one afternoon" I rise from my seat. "If you'll excuse me I have ship repairs to over see and a shore roster to sort out."

"A few things Commander,"

"Of course there is." Sinking back into my chair begrudgingly I sigh and nod my head. "What does the Alliance want now? A sworn statement of loyalty? A sample of my blood so they can prove I'm not on performance enhancing drugs? How about my right lung, I warn you it's still a little weak after I got crushed by a giant hunk of Reaper but-"

"Shepard." The Admiral interrupts.

"Sorry," Taking a breath I control myself. "What is it?"

"Firstly, you are still required to give your testimony to the Board, as are the rest of your crew but it shouldn't take more then a few days. Secondly…" The way his voice trails off is worrying, the fact he stares at his data-pad even more so. Leaning forward I place my palms flat on the desk top. "Secondly, I'm afraid you cannot retake command of the Normandy until after the enquiry, which shouldn't take more then few days but I cannot promise anything."

"Wonderful. Just…..yeah, wonderful." My chest clenches, rage smouldering just below the surface, "Admiral I have been an Alliance solider my entire adult life, I have done everything you've asked of me and the one time I defy an order, an order that would have, if I'd have followed it, led to the destruction of the galaxy by the way. But the one time I defy an order you have me held up on charges and take away my ship, my crew and treat me like some kind of… some kind of defector. Now I've been reasonable about this, I didn't protest when you came to my ship to take me away but you must be aware that as a Spectre I don't fall under your jurisdiction anymore. You have no right to ground me."

"I am aware of that Commander, as I'm sure you are aware that the Normandy is an Alliance vessel, and as such you cannot take its helm without our express permission."

Then it hits me, the reason, the real reason why I have been called here to face charges that Hackett told me himself would never be up held. This has nothing to do with what I've done or what I haven't done, they couldn't care less about the choices I've made. This is a final, desperate attempt to hold onto power as the Alliance feels its fraying edges slipping through their fingers; a power play to show them that I may be a Spectre, but I still bow down to them inevitably.

"The reapers are coming Admiral, you know, you saw it." My anger spills over; I slam my hand onto the table. "You were at the head of that fleet when they took Sovereign out and there are more coming. Do you know what will happen if you take my ship away from me?"

"I have not once told you that you can not take command of your ship again Commander, in a few wee-"

"Weeks now is it?" I give a hollow laugh. "Then when the weeks are over, it'll be months, then what years? Humanity is in charge now, thank you for your help but we don't need you anymore, who cares if the galaxy is at stake?"

The admiral meets my eyes and I can see he is as unhappy about this as I am, he shakes his head slightly. "I'm sure after the enquiry you will be free to go about your business again Commander."

"I hope your right, but I think we both know that isn't true." Standing I don't salute, just wipe my palms on my uniform trousers. "So the fun starts at 08.00 tomorrow then does it, I'll inform my crew….while I can still call them that. Good afternoon Admiral."

"For what it's worth, every officer in the Alliance fleet who saw that monster first hand will be fighting for you Commander, myself included."

Pausing at the doorway I incline my head towards him but don't say anything in return. None of this is his fault, he follows the orders given to him by the few officers that are his superior but that doesn't mean I can look at him now. Tapping my fingers lightly on the door frame I leave him sitting at the desk, satisfied I have played the part of the good soldier, sick that I didn't see this coming.

I come out of the IntAf cells and into processing, the bright strip lights stinging my eyes after hours in the dim interrogation room. Pausing at the reception desk briefly I retrieve my med-pen from the fresh face Servicemen who had looked in on me earlier but other then that I leave as quickly as I can. I want to get as far from here as quickly as I am able, to put distance between me and what will happen tomorrow and for one night not have to be a Commander. I want to sleep in my bed with Liara beside me and forget about everything that has happened and that will happen but as soon as I leave the Internal Naval Affairs office my comm. buzzes against my ear and I know it will never be that simple.

I'm tempted to let it ring and force whoever is on the other end to deal with what ever situation they've found themselves in but my finger reaches for the call button of it's own accord.

"….won't be the only thing blue if Shepard see you talking to her like that-"

"Joker?" Pausing at a shop window I frown and tilt my head to hear better. "Where are you? What's happening?"

"Commander, there's an issue at- I'm telling her Wrex, keep your damn hump on- at customs, you might- hey, you know who that is-" He dissolves into static as I pass a extranet terminal, "right inside your cranium you got it buddy?"

"Joker? What's going on?"

"Problems. You better get here quickly."

The comm. clicks closed.

xXoXx

It's take me nearly half an hour to navigate the halls and corridors of the Antarctica back to customs and the docking bay, twice I managed to get turned around and I almost had to resort to asking for directions. Eventually the nav system on my omni-tool kicked into life to point me on the right bearing but every corridor looks alike. As soon as I came close to my destination however I knew I was in the right place. The raised voices carry on the re-circulated air and reverberated against the metal walls, arguing and yelling, the occasional swear word; as I rounded the corner there was the sound of shattering glass. Breaking into a run I sprint towards the sound, almost colliding with an automatic door that didn't open as quickly as it should and sliding on a patch of condensation.

Coming into customs I see immediately why Joker called me. Marines, their weapons drawn are facing off against Wrex and Garrus, if it weren't for a biotic field holding the krogan in place he would have charged them by now. The turian is gesturing at the units captain and I can see the krogans lips moving but can't hear the words.

A few feet away Liara is trying to maintain a field strong enough to hold an enraged krogan, her brow furrowed and hand wavering slightly from the strain. Next to her Tali is arguing with an IntAf officer who is scanning her with his omni-tool and trying to get Liara to lower her barrier against her better advice. At the desk Chakwas and Adams are arguing with the custom's officials, I've never seen the engineer so agitated and the doctor so close to hitting someone before. A few other crew members are dotted around, keeping watch for trouble but their hands aren't far from their weapons and their eyes aren't leaving the krogan and turian. The whole situation is minutes away from imploding.

"Shepard, over here." Joker waves me over, from the couch he's sitting at, Ashley at his side. His face is bleeding, crisscrossed with hundreds of tiny cuts and Ashley is picking glass out of his hair.

"What the hell is going on in here?" The floor crunches beneath my feet as I approach them. A table has been turned over, in one corner I can see a marine cradling a broken arm

"This whole place has gone nuts! All we did was try to log in, they let most of the crew through fine but as soon as Garrus and Wrex tried to get in a boat load of jarheads turned up and started raving about 'regulations' and 'non alliance members'." He winced as Ashley caught his bleeding eyebrow. "The face, watch the face."

"Sorry princess." She smirks then looks at me. "We tried going through the higher ups but it's a no go. No-one will budge, all they keep saying is that this is an Alliance station and the aliens don't have clearance to be here." She holds her hands up. "Their words not mine."

"As soon as the weapons came out Wrex went berserk, threw one guy through an advertising window, would have killed him if Liara hadn't put him in that stasis thingy. I'm not sure how long she can hold if for though, with that IntAf flunky yammering in her ear."

Scanning around me I catch Liara's eye, even for her natural ability this is amount of biotic use is hard. "How long have you been here?"

"About an hour." Ashley replies. "When they told us they couldn't go in we asked if we could return to the ship but hey it's locked down so it's either stay here or get put in custody."

"Wrex didn't like that."

"No-one liked it."

"Wrex didn't like it more." Joker pouts, pointing at his face. "Garrus is trying to calm him down but I think he's gone over to, what's it called? Blood rage? If you don't do something Commander they're going to shoot him."

"This is just what I need. Okay, I'll sort it." I spin and point at the nearest officer. "You? What the hell do you think you're doing not allowing my crew to board this station? Who gave you that order?"

"It came from one of the Admirals Ma'am, there's nothing I can do; I'm just following orders."

"Well follow this order." I address the whole room now. "Every idiot with their guns drawn lower them right now unless you want this to turn into a full blown fire fight." None of the marines moved. "You want that to happen? Because I can guarantee that the squad that faced down a reaper can take a couple of wet behind the ears FNG's who haven't seen the wrong side of battle. You haven't seen what they've seen if you had you would give them the damn respect they deserve."

"They're not Alliance Ma'am, we can't-" The bravest of the squad speaks up, my head shoots round to him.

"They are my crew, they are the best of this galaxy and it shouldn't matter whether their turian, quarian asari or krogan they deserve better then this." Grapping the nearest gun barrel I pull the riffle away from him. "You will lower your weapons or you will face me, and believe me you do not want that. Do you understand me marines?" A nod goes round the unit as their weapons drop. "Get the hell out of here."

"Well said Commander." Chakwas smiles at me from across the room, I give her a weary look in return.

"Wrex, if Liara drops the barrier are you going to be a problem?"

"They pointed a gun at my face Shepard." The krogan spits through tight lips, is words distorted by the biotic bubble. "When I was unarmed. I cannot let this stand."

"I can't let you onto the Antarctica if you going to be after blood. I put my neck out for you because I know you're more then they think you are, don't let me down." His red eyes search mine and soften ever so slightly

"I will restrain myself. But if they come at me again…."

"Understood, Wrex." A look to Liara and she drops the field with obvious relief, Tali helps her to a chair. Any other time, any other place and I would rush to her side to check on her but as is my life at the moment more pressing things take priority. "Officer, what exactly made you think it was wise to greet my ship with a pack of heavily armed idiots?"

The officer beside Tali closes his omni-tool and glares at me, his dark blue and grey uniform sprinkled with pieces of orange glass. He dusts his shoulder and straightens his cap.

"Commander Shepard, my men are not idiots, it is standard procedure to meet any unregistered visitors with back up. And as it turns out I was right, things would have gotten a lot worse if they hadn't been here."

"This only happened because they were here! Just because they're not human doesn't make them criminals."

"As I said, regulations."

Something in my snaps, I grab him by the collar and slam him against the wall.

"Shepard!" Liara calls to me, she rises from her seat, taking me by the arm. I ignore her, slam the officers hand into the wall again.

"I've had enough of this station's regulations, you listen to me. I'm a Spectre, that might not mean anything to you but it makes me much, much higher then whatever admiral gave you your orders." I release him, shrugging Liara away from me roughly. "So you'll grant my crew full access to the Antarctica, take away the surveillance I'm sure you've had put on them or I'll have your job. Are we clear soldier?"

He shrugs his shirt back into place.

"Perfectly. Spectre."