A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed! It means a lot. This chapter is (comparatively) short, but I wanted to get something up for you. :)
P.S. I love Hackett.
Chapter Nine: There is a Charge, a Very Large Charge [Case Report: Admiral Steven Hackett]
Trial of Commander Kayleigh Shepard
Vid Log Evidence #0.00547H
[Admiral Hackett, 52, sits on his chair, rod straight, face impenetrable. He hasn't removed his hat, nor does he seem inclined to do so. His arms are folded loosely over his chest.]
TRIBUNAL: We all appreciate you making an appearance, Admiral.
[Hackett inclines his head but says nothing.]
TRIBUNAL: How long have you known Commander Shepard?
HACKETT: Nearly ten years.
TRIBUNAL: And when did you first meet?
HACKETT: Just after the massacre on Akuze. I visited her in the hospital on Arcturus.
TRIBUNAL: Why?
HACKETT: I was presenting her with her N7 commendation.
TRIBUNAL: Can you give us your impression of the Commander at that time?
[He sighs, scratching at his chin.]
HACKETT: You want to know what I thought? I thought, here's a girl who's been through hell and survived. I was only in the room with her for minutes at most, but I was damned impressed. She was obviously beaten down, but she wasn't out, not by a long shot.
o-o-o
Even with her face shoved into her pillow, she heard the door open. Shepard debated whether or not to check who it was, but in the end, exhaustion combined with delicious medication made her decide against it. Her back felt like some huge beast was sinking its fangs into her, even with the copious amounts of morphine being pumped into her system. She wasn't an idiot – she knew it was bad. That fucking thresher maw had melted her back away, down to the fucking bone. It would heal, but not quickly, and not painlessly.
They were prepping skin grafts for her, but she had yet to have the surgery. Some doctor or other had also discussed cloning some of her own tissue for cosmetic purposes later, but Shepard had asked if she'd be able to function without them. When the answer was yes, she told him to fuck off. She was the only damn person from her whole squad to make it out of that hellhole alive. The least she could have was an ugly ass scar on her back.
A throat cleared near her, and Shepard forced her head to the side, blinking blearily. A man in dress blues stood next to her bed, surveying the wreckage that was her back. From the stripes on his shoulders, he was up there, though her mind wasn't coherent enough for her to figure out his rank.
"I'd salute, sir," she mumbled, "but I'm a little out of sorts, here."
His laugh was little more than a puff of air, but his mouth quirked up. "After what you've been through, feel free to do whatever makes you feel comfortable."
"Much obliged," she replied, blinking rapidly to try and purge the drugs from her system – but, you know, not too much, because she rather liked not screaming in excruciating pain. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, who are you?"
The man took the one uncomfortable looking chair in the room and dragged it up next to her bed. "I'm Rear Admiral Hackett," he said, folding his hands on her bed but careful not to touch her at all.
"Wow," said Shepard, and was pleased that she sounded as surprised as she felt. "And what's a Rear Admiral want with me?"
"I'm supposed to convey sympathy on behalf of the Systems Alliance military," he said gently.
Shepard couldn't help but snort, prompting this Hackett guy to raise his eyebrows at her. Refraining from rolling her eyes, or, god forbid, crying, she steeled herself. "With all due respect, sir, I'm still alive, so you can take your sympathy and shove it. Save it for all those corpses down on Akuze." Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she couldn't help her yawn.
"Well said," remarked Hackett, with something that sounded suspiciously like pride. "But I'm afraid I have one more piece of business to finish before I can leave you be."
"Is it court martialing me for telling a superior officer to shove it? Because I can get a dozen doctors to attest to the fact that I'm loaded up on pain medication right now, so my judgement is only fifty-fifty."
"It's an N-school commendation," said Hackett quietly.
All thoughts of sleep vanish, and Shepard pushes herself up onto her elbows, ignoring the pain in her back or the way Hackett's brows cinch together in concern. "Are you kidding me? You can't be serious. I'm the only surviving member of my whole platoon, and I'm nominated for a chance to become special forces? What the fuck for?"
"You did an impossible thing," said Hackett. "You survived in a brutal situation. You were heavily injured and confronted with a foe that killed not only fifty other marines, but a few hundred colonists as well. You kept your head, and no only did you survive, you crafted your own beacon that served to warn rescue ships and led to the eventual take down of the thresher maw."
"When you put it like that, you make it sound like it was fucking glamourous," snarls Shepard, aware that she's talking to a very superior officer, but somehow unable to curb herself. "It wasn't. I lived because I was lucky. Because I was just a little bit quicker. I'm not special or anything."
"I think we can agree to disagree on that matter."
If she hadn't already mouthed off to the nth degree, she might've felt the urge to punch that soft look from Hackett's face. She got it what felt like a million times a day, mostly from her doctors, and the urge to answer with violence was never far behind. Unlike the doctors, Hackett looked like he could take it... but her military career wouldn't survive, she was sure.
"Do I have to accept?" she said, easing herself back down onto her stomach.
"You don't have to do anything, Shepard. But if I were you, I would consider it. Even getting through the first N school would do great things for your career."
"You're assuming that I'm going to be getting out of this bed anytime soon."
"You will," said Hackett, and he sounded so sure. Nobody ever sounded that sure when she was the subject.
"Docs still aren't sure on that. I need to get grafts," she said. "They mentioned something about maybe needing physio too."
Hackett just smiled. "You will." He stood, giving her a grave nod. "At least think about it. I have a good feeling about you. Heal up. Shepard." Spinning, he turned and left the room with as much fanfare as he'd entered.
She laid there a long time, thinking about what he said.
o-o-o
Vid Log Evidence #0.00547H (Continued)
[One of Hackett's legs is folded loosely over the other, his hands resting in his lap.]
TRIBUNAL: Can you explain why the Commander happened to be on Aratoht?
HACKETT: I sent her there.
TRIBUNAL: For what purpose?
HACKETT: Doctor Amanda Kenson was being held by batarians. I wanted her retrieved – quietly – and returned to Alliance space.
TRIBUNAL: And why did you choose the Commander for this particular mission?
[Hackett sighs deeply.]
HACKETT: Formally, she was no longer part of the Alliance military. Her actions could be spun as a rogue individual acting without the knowledge or approval of Alliance officials – if she was caught. We could've claimed that she was a Cerberus agent, and not our problem.
TRIBUNAL: Was the Commander aware of this plan?
HACKETT: No. I said if she got caught.
TRIBUNAL: So you didn't anticipate the catastrophe that occurred?
HACKETT: If you're asking whether or not I thought she'd blow up an entire system, the short answer is no.
o-o-o
MILITARY CORRESPONDENCE
From: Rear Admiral Hackett
To: Major Ri Se-Hung
Major -
Keep me apprised of Kayleigh Shepard's performance.
From: Major Ri Se-Hung
To: Rear Admiral Hackett
Sir,
You'll be pleased to know that 2nd Lieutenant Shepard has completed her Interplanetary Combatives Training with the highest honours. She has been awarded the coveted N7 designation for performance above and beyond the call of duty. While completing her final mission, she and her squad were pinned down. Many were killed in combat, but the Lieutenant managed to buy time for a few to escape, and escorted one through days of dense jungle.
On a personal note, Admiral, I have to say that watching Shepard work is a true pleasure. She was born for leadership, that much is clear, and while there are others who have better endurance, better aim, or even biotics, she makes up for everything she lacks with a sheer force of will.
It is my belief that she will go on to accomplish great things for the Alliance.
Sincerely,
Major Ri Se-Hung
From: Rear Admiral Hackett
To: Major Ri Se-Hung
Major -
That's what I thought. Thanks.
o-o-o
Her hands hadn't stopped trembling since her last second rescue. Shepard held them out in front of her, watching them. Were they from the adrenaline rush, a leftover of the drugs that had impaired her for near two days, or were they because she'd just destroyed an entire system, with hundreds of thousands of people? She clamped down tight on her bottom lip to stop that from wobbling too, opening and closing her hands as though that would suddenly make them okay. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths.
Images of the Reapers leaped into that darkness unbidden, some weird ass combination of the Prothean beacon mixing with the newer information from Object Rho. She wrenched her eyes open and looked at her hands again. Still shaking. What if she was indoctrinated? She could still remember Kenson with her glowing yellow eyes, could still remember the deep, booming bass that whispered words into the back of her head.
Doctor Chakwas entered, bringing with her a small sandwich and a bottle of water. She set them on the bed next to Shepard, then took a seat, wheeling herself over with a datapad.
"How are you feeling?"
"Do you remember after Eden Prime when I was uneasy for days?" asked Shepard.
"It's not something I'm likely to forget," acknowledged Chakwas. "You seem to be doing remarkably better this time. You slept quite soundly, but you weren't near comatose like last time. You should probably eat, though – your nutrients are sorely lacking." The older woman nodded her head towards the sandwich.
Dutifully, Shepard took a small bite before setting it down. "I feel worse this time."
Chakwas set her datapad down. "Well, you've been through a great ordeal."
Shepard lowered her brows at the doctor. "Don't do that. Don't make this about me. It's not. I just destroyed an entire system. And yeah, I did it for the right reasons – the Reapers were coming, and they would've hit Earth first without giving us time to prepare – but I'm not the person here who deserves sympathy. There was a call to be made, and I did. Which is exactly what I put into my report." Fatigue pulled at her body, so she flopped over and curled onto her side.
"They'll understand, Commander," Chakwas reassured her.
"Really? I wouldn't. I'd be fucking livid." And she wasn't just talking about the batarians, or even the Alliance. She was talking about the galactic community in general. In a single attack, she'd decimated an entire colony. Just weeks ago, she'd been hunting the Collectors for doing the same damned thing. What did that make her?
Joker's voice echoed over the comm. "Hey, Commander? Hackett's ship just came alongside. He'll be aboard momentarily. Where should I send him?"
It was too soon, and she wasn't ready to deal with the political fallout of her choice, but she said, "Just send him to the medbay. Have Chambers escort him if he needs it."
She stayed where she was, but sat up once again, her feet dangling. Hackett entered, but Chakwas scurried over to talk to him in private. From where she was sitting, Shepard couldn't hear a damn word they were saying, but knowing Chakwas, she was probably telling the Admiral to take it easy on her one patient. Having presumably succeeded in this, she left the two of them alone.
Hackett kept his hands clasped behind his back as he marched over, brows knitted together. "You want to tell me what went on down there?"
"How much do you know?" asked Shepard.
"The batarians are claiming that you destroyed an entire system," said Hackett, managing to be both uncomfortable and stern at the same time. How did he do that? "I want to know what really happened."
So she told him, right from the beginning, starting with her infiltration into the batarian prison. How she wasn't seen, circumnavigating the patrols and using some clever hacking techniques to bypass all major routes. How she saved Kenson, who turned out to be indoctrinated, only to hold off wave after wave of similarly indoctrinated guards and engineers, and eventually be mind fucked by the Reaper object. How she had to run all over that goddamned base to get the project going again. How Kenson blew up. How she woke up with hours to spare, and made the only choice she could.
Hackett mulled over this information, hand to chin. "This is going to be a political shitstorm when the batarians get a hold of this. You do realize this, don't you?"
She couldn't do much more than nod. No wait, that wasn't true. Hopping off the bed, she stood up as tall as she could and wrapped herself with certainty. "I had to do it, Hackett. The Reapers would've reached Earth in days otherwise, and we're not ready."
The idea that she might not have woken in time chilled her even more than the revelation that she destroyed so many lives. The Battle of the Citadel looped through her mind, and that had only been one Reaper. From Harbinger's running – and stupidly annoying – commentary through her interactions with the Collectors, and if you could accurately judge a Reaper's power by the level of ego they possessed, Earth would have been hooped had she not done so. And she sincerely doubted the Reapers would stop there. Trillions would have died without the opportunity to defend themselves. She would have felt fucking worse then, wouldn't she?
Still, those lives lost to the relay, they were really heavy. She was going to get a stooped back soon, from all the deaths and responsibilities she lugged around with her.
To her surprise and everlasting gratitude, Hackett nods. "I know that. Hell, if it were up to me, I'd pin a damn medal to your chest. That doesn't change things, though. They're going to want blood."
Shepard weighed all her options then. One was to continue as she was, travelling the galaxy with her stolen ship, but no matter how good her crew, in the end they would be one ship against a Reaper invasion. Not only that, but joyriding around in a ship stamped with the Cerberus brand wasn't the best way to prove you weren't a terrorist. So that was out. She could go to the Council, tell them what she told Hackett and if they believed her – fat fucking chance – she could rally Citadel forces and council races together. Of course, the Council had explicitly told her not to make trouble in the Terminus systems, and fiddling with a relay in general was grounds for severe punishment even when they weren't used to kill thousands. Really, her only option was to rejoin the Alliance and hope that Hackett and Anderson could convince people to take the threat seriously.
She said, "Then I'll turn myself in."
If she had expected shock or surprise or anything similar, she would've been disappointed. Hackett smiled like he'd been waiting for her to say that. "Good to see you've kept your honour, despite everything."
"You could argue that I never really had any," said Shepard, with a shrug.
Hackett claps a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. "No. You couldn't."
o-o-o
Vid Log Evidence #0.00547H (Continued)
TRIBUNAL: We were under the impression that you and Commander Shepard had a great professional accord.
HACKETT: We do.
[He drops his leg and leans forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped together.]
HACKETT: I could argue that the reason I have such utter faith in Shepard is because we're function the same way. When a problem presents itself, I send her in to deal with it knowing that she will do exactly what I would do in her place.
TRIBUNAL: Are you saying that you would've done the same as the Commander on her mission?
[Hackett is quiet a long while. He nods once to himself.]
HACKETT: If I'd been confronted with the threat of an imminent invasion, yeah, I would.
TRIBUNAL: But there is absolutely no evidence to suggest that -
HACKETT: Have you asked Shepard?
TRIBUNAL: We would be happy to listen to anything the Commander has to tell us.
HACKETT: Let's be honest here – would you? Or have you already made your decision?
[He doesn't wait for their answer, but pushes himself to his feet. He adjusts his hat, nodding to the tribunal.]
HACKETT: I think we're done. I have fleets to mobilize.
[Hackett strides from the room without a glance backwards.]
Next Chapter: James discovers a dark secret of Shepard's.