Chapter 5

"Admiral." Shepard saluted.

"Take a seat, Commander." Admiral Hackett gestured to the leather chair in front of his desk. "How are things?"

"They ... there's a lot of meetings." Shepard came around the chair and sat.

Hackett lowered himself into his chair with a sigh. "I know. We've made you a regular at every meeting big or small. I can imagine how it feels being a soldier and attending months of back to back meetings."

Shepard shrugged but kept a smile on. Hackett leaned forward across his desk.

"I haven't talked to you much about the next step, where you go from here."

"I knew there was probably an angle, sir."

"The Relays are a year out. Sol, Arcturus. You heard about the cracked Mass Effect shard? Attempts to synthesize a new one, they're not going well. We're fielding other options. Until the Sol relay's functional again and travel resumes, resouces'll stay short. The focus is on rebuilding and preparing for the infrastructure of the future. Earth has never hosted the people we have today. I imagine it never will again. The Alliance and council sharing one roof, it's historic, and the meetings you've gone to? There'll never be an opportunity like this again."

"I understand, sir," Shepard said but wrinkled her brow.

"The Summit next year is going to decide a lot of things. We need to be prepared and think long term. There are pieces we haven't figured out yet. We'll need help aligning them. Nothing decided, but we do know you'll be part of bringing those pieces together, not just in the board room either."

"Sir?"

"The Normandy. It's what you've wanted. I know it."

Shepard straightened in her seat and tried to keep her voice cool. "I've been through a lot with her, sir."

The Normandy. The Normandy was exactly what she needed. It's what she'd been missing and why she felt so adrift and lost. The loss of the Normandy hollowed her, but now … She just needed her feet planted firmly on the deck again to find that barring again.

"She was crippled," Hackett said. "Losing the Cerberus's VI software gutted her. The damaged she sustained from the crash and traveling that long was considerable. She's under repair. The makeshift fuel recycling from flotilla technology was brilliant. We have quarians drawing up more serious schematics. It will be properly retrofitted. A lot of resources sinking into this one and time too, but worth it. The flotilla technology has its drawbacks, but it will be necessary for deep space travel. Get beyond the edge of the sol system, there's not much to help you along."

"What's in deep space, sir?"

"No solid plans. That can be a conversation for later. The Alliance Parliament has ideas. The Council too, but that will come later. For now, you can start thinking about a crew. The VI system is gone, but you'll have a skilled pilot. I think you know him."

Shepard grinned. Even if Joker was distempered, it was just one more piece to the whole. With the Normandy, things would be back in order again.

"Thank you, sir."

"I know you work well together. And I think it's important to have a familiar face, even more so when you've been through what you've been through."

"I appreciate that, sir."

"You've met Lieutenant Commander Anchor, too. I believe he talked to you in the council chamber. Unfortunately, there was some prearranged leave so he couldn't meet you more formerly. He'll be your XO. He'll be back in a month or so and you can meet him again then."

"Are you familiar with him?"

"Uh, no. He has a good track record with the Alliance. He served groundside on Earth during the war. He has connections. I think Parliament would like to give him his own command, but we're limited with ships and resources, so that won't happen. Not until the Relays come back up anyway. For now, he'll be working under you. I'll give you access to his records. I'm sure you're curious. Other than that, I will let you fill the crew as you wish. Alliance crew. It's not like war time. Back to the rules and ways we did them before."

"Understood, sir."

"That's all."

Shepard gave one solid nod and stood up. "Thank you, Admiral."

"Commander … just one thing."

Shepard paused. Hackett looked away for a moment. He tapped a pen against the desk before sighing and shifting his gaze back to her. His tone softened.

"Shepard. You do know what I mean when I say that things here on out, across the board, they go back to how they were before this mess? We've had years of chaos. No one blames someone for mistakes made under that pressure. The pressure you were under, your crew was under, it was enough to break most soldiers. But now, the war is over. Everything is being set right again. Order, chain of command, conduct." He gave her a level look. "It matters now. Be careful. Know the repercussions of your actions. You're a good soldier, maybe the best we have, but you're still an Alliance soldier. You're held to the same standards as the rest, maybe more so for the model you would be. I trust you will make good decisions for yourself, your career. I just want to be clear on the expectations. You understand what I'm saying, Commander?"

Shepard released a tight breath. "Of course, sir. I expect no less."

"Dismissed then, soldier." Hackett stood up and saluted her. "I will send you information on the ship, possible crewmen. The ship is under construction. When it's ready to be boarded, you'll be the first to know."

"Thank you, sir." Her hand snapped an unsteady salute. She dropped it fast and turned on her heels.

When the door slid shut behind her, she gave his assistant a tight smile and rushed across the reception room to the hall. She had the Normandy back. That's what she needed to remember.

X

Shepard spent weeks walking the decks of the Normandy. True, the Normandy was grounded in a docking bay. It wasn't shooting through space, but that was still hell of a lot closer to where she needed to be than she had been in a year. When she'd stood on the crucible staring the end in the face, she'd never imagined being here again, on this deck, this ship. Now, here she was. Everything was almost back to right. Shepard just had to get her in the sky again.

A stuffy dustiness hit her as she came into her cabin. The cleaning crew would be coming through later, and she needed to face it. Nothing had moved. Her datapads scattered across her desk in the same arrangement as the day she left them. A sharpie and highlighters lay against the stack of paperwork on the desk's back corner. Her coffee mug, the coffee long since evaporated, sat on top. It left a brown ring on the top folder when she moved it.

Her fish must be dead. The water stagnated with an empty murkiness. At least the dead fish had been cleaned out. That would have been unpleasant. Her hamster was gone too. Dead presumably. She'd get another though and more fish. It would be the same again.

She ran her hands across her desk, shifted some datapads, and dragged her fingers along the cool glass of the fish tank as she stepped down by her bed. The bed was unmade. She twisted away to face the clear display case of model ships looming above the couch. A bottle of wine stood half empty on the table next to an empty glass. The other wine glass lay on its side under the table. Shepard picked it up. Something caught her eye. Light bounced off a small piece of metal in the couch. Shepard tapped the wine glass down on the table and reached into the cushions. Her fingers touched a cool piece of metal, and she held it up in the light.

A silver button. It gleamed with a glossy silver finish. Light blinked through the four holes in the center as she turned it over in her fingertips. It was from an older issue Alliance uniform. A year before the war, the buttons had changed to a frosted, gold-rimmed silver along with adding shoulder clips and adjusted stitch color. Shepard squeezed her hand around the button and let it dig into her palm. It wasn't from one of her uniforms. Her uniforms were all new from when she was reinstated during the war. It wasn't hers. She opened her fingers. A wisp of broken thread stuck to the pink indent in her palm. Miranda was right. She was always too rough, too impatient. She let out a tight breath. She held it in her fist as she gazed around the room.

It was amazing the room had been left untouched. All those months trapped on a ship growing smaller by the minute, but it was as if no one had come here. No one had stayed here. The bed had the same sheet, same pillow cases, and the covers were still folded back on both sides. Everyone must have continued to bunk together in the crew rooms. Kaidan had taken command of the ship for months. Hell, he's probably commanded it longer than she had since being reinstated with the Alliance, but he clearly hadn't stayed here. Maybe it had too many memories. Maybe it had too many memories for her. But this was her ship again, she wouldn't be haunted by fading memories.

She rolled the silver button in her palm and walked to the disposal bin. She opened the lid and held out it over the bin. The cleaning crew was serving the ship tonight. It would be taken out before she came back. If she turned her palm over, just one quick motion, it would be gone. She wouldn't even need to upend her palm, a slight tilt would be enough. She looked at the trash bin and curled her fingers around the button. She slipped it into her pocket.

She straightened her shoulders and looked around the room. There were things needing to be done. She was wasting time lingering here. She had a new crew to recruit and train. It was time to focus ahead not behind. It was okay to remember though, just once in a while.

x

Joker hunched over his knees on a bench outside the docking bay. He didn't look up as Shepard came off the loading bridge and neared. He had to have heard the door open into the terminal. He certainly would hear her footsteps across the vinyl hallway. Maybe he was hoping that she'd continue on before needing to exchange words. She could walk right past, play along too, and pretend she hadn't seen him. She stood in front of him.

"Jeff."

He looked up with pinched features. A ruddy roughness mottled his skin, but he'd trimmed his beard and his Alliance uniform was pressed. The buttons on his collar caught the light. The gold rims flashed. His uniforms probably weren't much older than hers since they'd both been reinstated after their stint in Cerberus. Most soldiers probably had the older uniforms though. Really, the silver button could be anyone's.

She slipped down next to him on the bench. She hunched down beside him and folded her hands in front of her. Beyond the terminal's glass windows, the Normandy's hull gleamed in the overhead lights of the enclosed docking bay.

"Need to just go on," Joker murmured. "Awkward first day if I put it off. Probably do something to get myself hugged."

"The horror. They might even squeeze."

"Uh, you try getting a pity hug from the copilot and sitting next to him every day. It makes things weird."

"Right. Since hogging the piloting duties and redoing his flight plans doesn't make things weird."

He shrugged. Shepard sat for a moment longer then got to her feet.

"No one's aboard. Cleaning crew isn't due for a few hours. You're cleared as a crew member. Get on whenever you want."

He didn't say anything as he stared at the floor at his feet. Shepard backed up with a sigh and started down the hall.

"Hey, Commander."

Shepard turned. Joker didn't look up but his head tilted in her direction.

"See you on board," he said.

"Later, Joker."

She walked down the hall slipping a hand into her pocket. Her fingertips found the silver button. It had to be.