After Virmire
Melanie Shepard had never liked politicians. To a street kid from the Seattle-Vancouver megalopolis, they'd been the self-satisfied fucks who patted themselves on the back for their compassion while doing precious little for the truly unfortunate. When she'd been an Alliance soldier, they were the interfering civilians who didn't understand the realities of life on the front lines. And as a Specter, they were the ones who didn't want to see the danger that Saren represented until it was almost too late. She'd come to dread those post-mission calls as, safely ensconced on the Citadel, the councilors second-guessed decisions they didn't have the guts to make themselves.
Now though, they'd outdone themselves. Grounding her, taking away her ship, when she'd finally learned the location of the Conduit, all because they were afraid she'd start a war in the Terminus systems was too much. She understood the need to avoid unnecessary conflict, but this was as necessary as it got.
She thought back to something an old C.O. once told her after their ship had been pulled away from a patrol in a sector crawling with pirates to ferry some VIP nowhere especially dangerous. When she'd asked how the politicians could be so ignorant, he'd said, "Because the problem isn't right in front of their faces, Lieutenant. They sit in a nice comfy office, and they can act like things aren't what they really are. Out here, we don't have that luxury. If you pretend there's not an angry krogan in front of you, pretty soon half your head is blown off and that SOB is chewing on what's left. Not a problem you worry about so much on fucking Arcturus Station, is it?"
She'd always liked that; it didn't excuse the bad choices people made, but it did explain them. Given half a chance, they didn't want to believe anything inconvenient, and the further you were from danger, the easier it was to get away with that kind of thinking. Even if there were consequences, they'd be paid by somebody else.
Too many people had already paid the highest possible price on this mission, most recently Lt. Williams. That had been an agonizing choice; she and Kaiden were both good soldiers, both friends, but the Major had been with the bomb, and she had to make sure that Saren didn't stop it from going off. Ashley knew what it meant when Shepard had told her she was going for the Kaiden. She knew and she didn't hesitate, or run, or do anything other than her duty. She told Shepard she had no regrets and she died fighting. And these politicians were going to waste her sacrifice because it was what, inconvenient? Because they might lose a few votes?
This time though, they wouldn't be able to hide from the consequences of their decisions. This time those fucking idiots on the Council and that two-faced weasel Udina would be missing half their heads along with everybody else. A small, angry part of her would've relished seeing the looks on their faces when the Reapers arrived, but of course letting that happen wasn't an option. There was far too much at stake to quit now.