Please let me know what you think! I highly value your opinions. I personally enjoyed this chapter. The ending took me by surprise as I had no idea it was going to happen until I started to write it :)

Shepard sat hunched over the terminal in her private quarters, poring over the government structures of the other Citadel races. She had to know who to contact and what to expect when meeting with each one in a request for aid. There was one thing she did know, however; she really despised politics. Speaking with these political entities was going to be rough, and painfully so. Cradling her head in her hands, she felt like she just wanted to escape. Why was it always up to her? Saving the galaxy, dying, saving the galaxy, imprisonment, saving the galaxy again… She groaned. After a while, it just gets tiring.

"Commander," EDI interrupted. "Lieutenant Vega is requesting access to your quarters."

Despite her open-door policy, she typically wasn't fond of interruptions while she was working. However, being knee-deep in political bullshit left her in dire need of a diversion. "Let him in, EDI." She spun around in her chair as the door swished open and the brawny Lieutenant came strutting in. In his hand he held a steaming cup which she eyed with interest. "What can I do for you, James?"

"Williams wanted me to bring you some coffee. Says you haven't left your quarters for the whole day."

She narrowed her eyes skeptically. Strange that Ash would ask the Lieutenant to bring this to her rather than do it herself. Of course, neither of them had spoken much since Horizon. She supposed they would need to have a heart-to-heart later.

He held out the cup for her to take it, which she gladly did. The mediocre brew was like a warm heaven as it trailed down her throat. She had been so engrossed in planning for the mission that hadn't thought about any of her body's needs for the last twelve – or so - hours. "It's certainly more pleasant than this swill should be."

He gave her a wide smile, looking pleased with himself.

"So how did Anderson rope you into this mess?" she asked, sipping at her coffee.

"I would call it more of an honor, Commander," he corrected. "I met the Admiral in a bar. Just finished up putting some batarians in their place." He shrugged. "Admiral said I would be a great addition to your team. Of course I was ecstatic. Who wouldn't be? I think his intention was to wait until you were out of holding and this whole thing blew over. But then the turian showed up. He suggested that we pull you out of there as soon as possible as the Reapers were coming fast. Not soon after, the Reapers attacked, just like he said, and you became our first priority."

"Well I think I can appreciate not having my ass blown up."

"I'm just glad the turian got you out of there when he did. It would be a waste to have such a – an admirable hero die… uh, Commander."

His hesitation made her somewhat curious as to what he was about to say. However, only somewhat. "You can call me Shepard when I'm not issuing orders," she assured him.

"Sounds good." He flashed his teeth in a charming grin. "I've always been a fan of your work. Ever since we on Earth caught wind of you saving the Citadel, you've been a real hero to humanity."

"Apparently that wasn't enough for Alliance brass," she bit out, probably more harshly than was probably necessary.

"What they did to you was wrong. No hero should be treated that way."

"One thing you'll learn about this galaxy, is it's entirely unforgiving. But you'll fight for it all the same."

He nodded, a frown creasing over his features. She was undoubtedly a strong woman, forged in the toughest of times. But it was obvious she was troubled. She held a great weight on her shoulders, more than he could ever imagine. Thing was, he didn't even know the half of it. Nevertheless, she carried on, full force. "Do you need anything else before I go?" he finally asked.

She shook her head, pieces of red hair falling from its loose tethers. "Thanks for the coffee, James."

"Anytime, Shepard."

Entering the Armory, she found the Second Lieutenant hard at work, thoroughly cleaning and inspecting every firearm. When the other woman saw Shepard approach, her eyes brightened noticeably.

"Oh hey, Skipper!" she greeted cheerfully.

"How's it going, Ash?"

"Not bad. Keeping myself busy." She paused, glancing around the pristine armory. "You know, whoever Cerberus had keeping this armory before the Alliance took over had done a fantastic job of organizing everything!"

The image of a sturdily-built, dark-skinned man ghosted over her vision as she recalled the way Jacob Taylor had so carefully tended to her team's weaponry. He was so professional in everything he did. So much so that it had taken her quite a while to wear down his barriers; enough to where they may have considered one another friends. But of course, like most everyone else, he was gone.

"You okay, Shep?"

Once again the tanned brunette returned to her vision, accompanied by a concerned expression that was plastered on her face. "I'm fine," she assured her.

The concern quickly faded and a smile crept into its place. "So… Shepard. Did you come to gossip about Lieutenant Vega?"

Shepard shrugged. "I don't think there's any need for gossip. I think he's a great addition to the team, judging from his proficient abilities back on Earth. I look forward to getting a better evaluation of his skills as we proceed."

"Uh huh… I'm sure you would." Ashley crossed her arms over her chest and met the other woman a wickedly suggestive gaze.

"What are you getting at, Ash?"

"Oh nothing…. Just that Scuttlebutt says he's got a thing for you." She shrugged. "I think you should go for it."

"Didn't we go through this when you tried to hook me up with Kaidan?" A sudden pang of guilt hit her with the mention of her deceased friend's name, but she quickly forced it aside. There was no doubt the Kaidan Alenko was an attractive man. They may have even hit it off at some point if things continued to progress the way they were. However, Virmire certainly put a stop to that. Her developing feelings had nearly gotten in the way of making a rational decision that day. The events that had taken place there confirmed that there was no place for relationships in her line of work. "I don't have room for a man in my life," she replied flatly.

"You're hopeless, Shepard. It wouldn't hurt you to enjoy life a little bit."

Shepard scrunched her face in irritation and turned to leave. She didn't come here to talk about her love life – or lack thereof. "I think I'll go enjoy life by diving into more political alien crap."

"Shepard, wait," Ashley blurted out, stopping the Commander in her tracks. She hesitated before continuing. "I… I've been wanting to apologize. You know, for Horizon."

The Commander turned to see the other woman, her head downcast in shame. "You have nothing to apologize for, Ash."

She shook her head, brown hair swaying with the movement. "No. The things I said… They were unforgivable. I should have never doubted you, Shepard." Tears began to slowly stream down her lightly bronzed cheeks. "You were a friend to me Shepard, and I was being selfish, and –"

"Hey…" Shepard interrupted, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders, forcing the other woman to meet her eyes. "We're still friends. Alright?"

Ashley gave her a shallow nod.

"Now buck up," she said patting Ashley's shoulders. "I don't need you crying on the weapons. Saltwater is bad for the finish."

Ashley chuckled through her tears. "We need to look good while killing those Reapers, huh Skipper?"

"Now you got the idea," she replied encouragingly. After assuring that the smile on the Second Lieutenant's face was genuine, she decided it was time to depart.

"Thank you for having me here," Ashley said before she reached the door.

"I couldn't imagine doing this without you," Shepard replied before taking her leave.

She snuggled under the soft covers of her bed, basking in their warmth. Her cabin was unusually cool, while her bed was nice and toasty; just how she liked it. She, at most, had a couple of hours before they reached the Salarian homeworld of Sur'Kesh. And she planned on spending the remainder of that time in bed. The only thing missing was… Her heart jumped in her chest. Her gun! The familiar hard lump of the heavy pistol was absent. Shoving her hands under the pillow, they came up empty. Panicked, she sat up, tossing both pillows to the floor. Still nothing. Her heart sped faster as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. Where could it be? She never slept without a gun in the usual spot under her head. She had been doing it for so long it had become a crazy habit. That familiar bulge under her pillow was like a teddy bear was to some, and its absence left her anxious. Throwing herself down on hands and knees, she searched the floor, but to no avail. It was gone. Impossible! she told herself. Nobody had free access to her room and EDI certainly wouldn't have let anyone in without her consent… would she?

"EDI. Has anyone entered my room without my authorization?"

"No Commander. I have not permitted access to anyone since your meeting with Lieutenant Vega," the AI assured.

She knew EDI was telling the truth, but something was still very wrong. There was no way her gun could just disappear. She had thoroughly checked behind every piece of furniture and under every surface, but still came up empty-handed. Then, she turned her grey-eyed gaze toward the closed bathroom door. Grabbing a knife from her nightstand she crept towards the room, hesitating when she was within a few feet of it. Taking those next few steps would trigger the door sensor, therefore, opening it. She held the knife firmly at her side before proceeding. As the door slid open, she leapt inside, prepared for a fight. Empty. Nothing present except the sink and open shower. She released the breath she had been holding in a puff. But then she noticed it. One of the ceiling tiles was slightly shifted, just enough to know it had been tampered with. Someone had definitely been sneaking around in her cabin and they had seemingly entered through the vents. Shifting the tile aside to reveal a good sized opening, she sheathed her knife and grabbed onto the metal beam above.

"Are you certain they left through there?" a deep voice growled from behind her.

Startled, she nearly dropped herself unsteadily to the floor, but skilled reflexes kicked in and she landed firmly on her feet. She spun around quickly to face the intruder. The fiery blue eyes of a lightly-colored turian gazed back at her. His mandibles were extended in amusement as he leaned against the doorway, taking in her shocked expression. He was obviously proud of catching her by surprise.

"What in blazing fuck do you think you're doing, Saren?" she demanded with gritted teeth.

"Oh, Shepard. I'm disappointed. You managed to take down the best Spectre in the galaxy and a Reaper… all in one day, but you didn't manage to find an intruder hiding within your own room." He tossed something to her, which she scrambled to catch.

The touch of cool metal was almost calming as she held her gun in her hands. However, not even that would thoroughly clear her rage. Glaring at him, she was tempted to show him what she typically did to trespassers. "What do you want?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "Just testing your skills. You know, if things had worked out differently I could have been your mentor for the Spectres."

"I suppose it's a good thing it didn't. I've seen what you do to your mentees." Noticing the way his expression shifted to anger, she regretted that statement. Low blow, Shepard.

"I should thank you for allowing that turian child and I to duel it out. Nobody died in the process and much of the animosity between us is somewhat settled."

She realized she hadn't spoken with neither he nor Garrus after that confrontation. She had found out from Joker that both turians survived the encounter and was satisfied enough with that. She decided that it was probably best to let them handle their frustrations on their own from here on out.

"There is still some tension between us that should be dealt with, however," he continued.

So that's what he wanted. There was still a lingering contention between them that was never fully settled, and was only heightened by his actions on Tuchanka. If he wanted a fight, she certainly wasn't going to oblige right now. There was one thing he needed to learn about humans, especially this one; they had control and could certainly use it to be spiteful. "Another time, maybe. I'm going to return to the rest that you so rudely interrupted. Feel free to see yourself out." She carelessly brushed past him, her arm sweeping against the unusually soft fabric of his turian clothing.

Did she just snub me? Narrowing his eyes, he spun around, thinking she may have been merely jesting to catch him off guard. As she returned to her sleeping area his gaze was caught by the clothing she wore. He wasn't sure why humans and asari chose to wear things that left little to the imagination. Her grey shirt was sleeveless and her black… "pants?" barely covered her intimate areas let alone keep her warm in this frigid temperature. Turians, on the other hand, did not feel the need to wear additional clothing that did not appear to serve a purpose. And clothing for sleeping? Ridiculous. Despite the irritation he felt at its pointlessness, his vision was drawn to the sway of her hips and the way the black fabric clung to her bottom. Strange humans, he grumbled inwardly, irritated with his curiosity of her.

When she had settled back into her bed, he was outraged. So she did intend to brush him off. Fine, if that's how she wanted to play this game, he could play too. Certain he could easily find a way to push her buttons as she did his, he had no intention of leaving now. Seating himself upon her couch he took note of the creaking sound the leather made when he moved upon it. He shifted his weight, causing it to scrunch beneath him. When there was no reaction, he continued to move around upon the leather surface, the sound of it slicing through the silence. Still no movement from her. He both admired, and was irritated by, her resolve. In search of another form of annoyance, he shifted his attention to a helmet resting upon the table that stood next to the couch. Taking it in his hands, he examined it. The armor was nearly destroyed, appearing burnt and warped. Much of the paint was chipped off or charred. He turned it over to peer inside, finding it dark, the padding clearly burned away. The scent of death filled his nostrils, causing an ill feeling to form in the pit of his stomach.

"What is the significance of this?" he asked curiously.

She finally stirred, sitting up to see what he was up to. "What are you – hey put that down!" She leapt out of bed and nearly pounced on him, grabbing the helmet from his claws. As she held it, he could see her hands tremble slightly as if simply touching it caused her pain. She quickly returned it to its place on the table, the muscles in her jaw clenching as she released it from her grasp.

"Judging from your reaction, whoever wore it must have been important to you," he assessed.

"It was mine," she said, her expression hard.

His blue eyes widened, gazing up at her in surprise. "But it smells of death and charred flesh." His blatant observation caused her to wince, and he nearly regretted saying it.

"That's because I died wearing it, nearly three years ago."

"That doesn't make any sense. You're obviously alive," he said, waving away her claim with a dismissive gesture.

"And we have Cerberus to thank for that," she muttered, examining her hand as she raised it before her.

"You're not making much sense."

She met him with a faint, almost bittersweet smile. "Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime." After a moment, her expression hardened again and she took him by the arm, lifting him from the couch. "But definitely not now. I think you've overstayed your welcome."

As she led a bewildered Saren towards the exit, the floor beneath her bare feet rumbled. Had she not been holding onto the sturdy turian's arm, she would have been thrown off balance. That was certainly no normal turbulence. "Joker!" she shouted, activating the comm to the cockpit. "What was that?"

"Looks like someone's firing at us, Commander. Sensors are picking up a frigate hot on our tail," the pilot replied.

"Then lose it!"

"Easier said than done, Commander," the pilot replied sarcastically.

"Fuck!" She grabbed a pair of pants from the end of her bed and began to pull them on when a second attack shook the Normandy, this time sending Shepard tumbling forward onto hands and knees. Two strong hands gripped her shoulders and quickly lifted her back to her feet. She gave Saren a brief nod before tugging up her pants and sprinting from the room.

"Can you make out who it is?" she asked when she finally entered the cockpit, Saren close behind.

"The sensors are identifying them as Cerberus… Commander," he replied, clearly disturbed by the finding. Then he gasped. Pressing a few buttons on the console, he turned to face her. "They're not alone."

"What do you mean?" she demanded urgently.

"Looks like it's being accompanied by an interceptor starship, slightly larger than standard size. It's also tagged as Cerberus," he told her, his expression haunted. "It's on our starboard."

"Can you outmaneuver them?"

"I donno. But, I'll give it everything I've got!" Turning back to the consol he hesitated. "Commander, we're receiving a request to open a communications channel with the interceptor."

"Do it."

There was a bit of static before a familiar voice came through the channel. The moment she recognized it, her heart fell. "Commander Shepard. This is Miranda Lawson. Do you read me?"