Bonds

I'd like to thank those of you who deal with my whining about writer's block on my LJ and on Boot Camp Thursdays. I really appreciate your input. Writer's block sucks so badly. DX

Technobabble! Kindly suspend your disbelief. XD

Also, warning for alien discrimination this chapter. No rose-colored goggles. (YMMV.) Reminders: It's only been 26 years since first contact, small-town thinking is small town even in space, and Ash and her family have good reason not to like/trust aliens, especially turians. They know not of Retribution. (I think it was Retribution?)

Mass Effect 3 leakage note 11/7/11: Because of the recent Microsoft beta leak and the trolls who revealed the plot of Mass Effect 3 (regardless of most of it being old info and cannot be considered canon until verified at launch), I am going on a media blackout until March. I ask that you respect my spoiler-free policy and do not post ME3 spoilers in reviews or PMs. I do not want any of my launch-day fun spoiled, and I don't want the fun for anyone else spoiled either. (Anon reviews have been disabled until then to discourage trolls.) Thanks.

(Regardless of what was revealed, it doesn't change my plans for Redundant. I will continue to explore what-ifs. Though I may or may not have the lore to back me up due to not being able to verify via Mass Effect Wiki.)

"Alliance Officials have raided a dangerous cult controlled by a former Alliance officer, Major Kyle. Major Kyle surrendered and is now being treated for severe post-traumatic stress disorder. One Alliance marine was killed during the raid. Alliance officials did not say how the marine died and are withholding the name until the marine's family is notified. Another Alliance marine, Gunnery Chief Lela Carpenter, was wounded, an Alliance official said on the condition of anonymity—"

Ashley flicked off her omni-tool and stood, stretching. She wondered who the marine was; hoped to God it wasn't anyone she knew. A quick and disturbing thought was that it was another N in Carpenter's squad. The whole team had been an arrogant lot of elitists, as was with any of the Special Forces divisions that Ash had encountered over the years of service, but that didn't mean she'd wish them dead. She'd had a chance to get to know them as they checked their weapons in and out of Normandy's armory, and she and the marine detail did a few drills with them. Naturally they'd ragged on her about her broken ribs.

Dawson had been the nicest. Didn't mean he couldn't kill her with a teacup, though. He'd boasted a few times in the mess. No one challenged him. Shepard's reaction to his death had forced Ash to wonder at the bond the Ns shared. Life and death was a powerful bond, she mused. She figured it was the same as the bond she'd shared with the 212, but the Ns, who'd actually been in life and death circumstances on a habitual basis, had been different, more powerful. If she assumed so, she'd think they more willing to get their hands dirty to the benefit of the squad.

At least the cult had been taken down, though she hadn't heard anything in the news about it before. Though there had been segment on Westerlund News about Major Kyle's outspoken comments against the Alliance. But Ash had chalked that up to propaganda. Hopefully, Carpenter was okay.

Forcing the dour thoughts from her mind, Ashley scooped up her sea bag and stood to disembark the transport with the other immigrants to Arcturus Station. The woman with graying hair from the opposite side of the aisle allowed Ash to go first, and Ash inclined her head in thanks. Sometimes civvies were civil, other times they were downright cold to Alliance personnel.

First class went through the airlock first. Ash had no problem waiting with the rest of coach. The trip to Arcturus hadn't been fast-packet, but it had been fairly short – compared to the day-trip from Czarnobóg anyway. Amaterasu was a mass relay hub and was one of the few this close to Earth that connected humans to the Terminus Systems. It had been strange to see so many aliens in the space port of Amaterasu even though it lay on the terminus of the Illium-Amaterasu shipping lane. It was such a small colony compared to most of the other human colonies that any ship with an alien crew compliment immediately sparked attention with the locals.

Ashley gave a small sigh and mentally shook her head. The thought of home brought a wistful smile to her face. She needed to get home more often. She already missed them, and she'd just seen them that morning. Both Sarah and Mom had been full of gossip about the latest scandals when Ashley had arrived two weeks ago. Apparently one of Mom's friend's friends knew a woman at their church who was in a relationship with an asari. On a colony that small, that was a huge scandal.

Going home had been refreshing. Spending nearly two weeks with Mom and Sarah reinforced her conviction that the Alliance was the best for humanity, even if her family had been blacklisted after First Contact. Saren was going down. After the initial shock of no one realizing how big a threat the geth and Saren were – hell, there were only speculations about Shepard tracking a rogue Spectre in the news, they were calling it the Eden Prime War, and no one said one word about the Reapers – not telling her family what was really going on had taken a real effort. Mom would have worried more about alien influence on humans as a whole. It was their fault the war had started. The turians had attacked them. Now twenty-six years later, another turian had attacked with his army of geth troops.

But then aliens like Wrex, Tali and Garrus made Ashley think that maybe they weren't all bad.

The asari, though… Dr. T'Soni was a wildcard. There was no way she didn't hurt Commander Shepard when they melded. Shepard had cried out just as she had when the asari on Feros had forced the Cipher on the Commander. The thought was bitter. T'Soni had to have planted something in Shepard's mind to gain her trust. Why else would Shepard have brought her to Arcturus? The human Systems Alliance Headquarters? Still, Ashley hadn't heard about another bombing or aliens running amok, but the Brass had only just lifted the media blackout that morning.

The coach passengers moved slowly towards the airlock as she thought about the media blackout. It hadn't gone over well back home, but blackouts were the only way for Arcturus personnel to speak to their families. Some of the newscasts had gone so far as to proclaim that the forty thousand humans that made up the station's population weren't as important as the million who wanted information just because many were in the Alliance Parliament or were diplomatic aids to Parliament and many of the pundits and protesters felt that Parliament gave too many concessions to aliens. It irked her that elitists and extremists singled out the different human groups. Ashley thought that was a load of bullshit. They were all human. They needed to work together, not separately. Yeah, they worked with aliens, but it was all politics. The damn Council had ordered cooperation, and the turian fleet was much too big of a force for humans to take alone. Not that any of the aliens would help them or that they wanted another war with the turians. They seemed to think in terms of total war – "no such thing as a civilian to a turian," her father had once told her.

"It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me."

Her stomach churning with anxiety and frustration and her skin burning from decon, Ashley made her way through customs. The line wasn't as bad as she had expected it. When the customs agent returned her ident and gave a thinly-veiled remark about Shanxi, she shot the agent a dangerous look.

It was people like her that Ashley had more of a problem with than most aliens. She was about to retort when a skinny girl in clothes that were too big for her ran screaming through the docking bay, a large pistol in her bone-thin hand. Ashley didn't have time to think before the girl opened fire on the MPs behind her, spraying mass accelerated rounds upon the unsuspecting crowd. Screams echoed in the space port and everyone dropped to the deck.

"Didn't know you could cook, Alenko," Joker said around a mouthful of homemade baked lasagna.

Kaidan shrugged, looking up from making his own plate full of lasagna. "Old family recipe."

"Too bad it's not real cow," Joker griped. He wiped at the melted nondairy cheese that had gotten stuck in his beard. By the way the helmsman was packing down the chow, he didn't seem too put out that Kaidan had opted to use vat-grown beef. Real cow was shipped in as a luxury to those who could afford it and if their beliefs allowed for the slaughter of the animals. The vat-grown stuff was easier to manufacture in space – any station could duplicate it inexpensively.

Liara picked at the ground vat-grown meat, separating it from the rest of the food. "The texture is… interesting, Lieutenant," she commented. She didn't seem to know what a tomato was. Those went into a separate pile.

Shepard, coffee cup in hand, walked into her hotel suite to find Joker and Liara eating at the small table, and Kaidan busy in the kitchenette. Shepard's dark, shoulder-length hair was wild and curly and her face was pale and pinched. She looked remarkably wind-blown for being on a space station. Kaidan thought she looked somewhat harrowed as well – the dark circles were back under her eyes. He suddenly felt he was intruding into her personal space.

"I let them in, Commander," Liara said from her place at the table, sensing Shepard's unease.

Kaidan scooped a hefty serving onto the paper plate and set it on the bar. Shepard only raised a brow at the proffered food. "Peace offering," he told her, trying to sound calm and cool. He managed a sheepish almost apologetic smile when she took it and gave it a sniff.

"Smells good, but what is it?" she asked, her face scrunching in curiosity, two lines of concentration forming between her brows.

He drew in his lips thoughtfully as he watched her study the food on her plate. "You've… never had baked lasagna?"

She shook her head. "Not like this. Not with…" She poked the lasagna pasta with her spork, then: "Those big flat things."

"That's the lasagna," Joker told her looking amused. At least he was no longer brooding.

"C-Rats never had them." She poked again at the large, flat pasta on her plate. Kaidan moved ahead of her and took a seat by Joker. "They were always curly egg noodle… things."

Joker made a rude noise. "C-Rats don't count as food," he told her.

Shepard pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear her expression still puzzling over the meal as she made her way to the table. With a look a realization as she set the plate down on the table, she patted her hair somewhat self-consciously. It was almost regulation-bun length now and due to whatever and where ever she'd been was a tangled fuzzy mess.

Kaidan wondered how the hearing had gone. After the first week of being grilled on BAaT and Rahna by the Internal Oversight Committee, he had been all too happy to get out from under their scrutiny. The questions they had asked had been enough to curl his already curly hair most days. And bring out the premature gray. Graying in ones thirties, unless due to metal toxicity or lack of minerals, was quite rare these days.

Quietly, he slipped her the regulation comb he always carried in his pocket. Belatedly, he realized that if he had one, she was sure to have one too. Uniform Code was Uniform Code regardless of Spectre status. The Commander accepted it with a wry grin.

"That bad?" she asked as she took it to the mirror on the wall.

Joker grinned. "Poof," was all he said. Shepard combed the stray curls down with a frown.

Kaidan shot him a look but the helmsman ignored it. "Hearing that bad?" Joker asked.

"Another fine Navy day," was her non-answer as she tried to tame her hair back to respectable marine Uniform instead of puff-ball of doom. Kaidan could only guess at what had gone on at the hearing.

He took a bite, frowning as he chewed. The baked lasagna was a recipe that he'd never managed to make just as well as his father, but no one was complaining. Yet. For some reason Kaidan never failed to over-salt the lasagna before adding the pasta to the rest of the ingredients. And the taste was off slightly because of the fake cheese and vat-grown beef.

"It's good," Shepard told him, a smile on her lips. Well, maybe over-salted lasagna noodles were okay. She took a sip of her coffee, made a face when she realized that it had gone cold and had been cold for quite some time. She sighed. "I can never seem to keep this shit hot."

"Helps if you drink it while it's hot, ma'am," Kaidan told her. Joker snorted. Liara seemed confused.

She opened her mouth to speak, but blinked then held a hand to ear. Someone had contacted her. Her amusement swiftly died, her visage paling. When she stood, her Game Face was in place. "You mean she was taken in the raid that killed my parents," she said.

Kaidan tensed, a wave of apprehension coursing through him. Holy hell.

Shepard crossed the room, her movements deliberately casual, as she listened and retrieved her shield generator and pistol. "I'm not trained for that," she told whoever was speaking to her over her comm, "but I'll do what I can."

When she faced her crew, her eyes were dark and unfathomable, her expression stubbornly blank. "I have to go."

"Commander?" Liara asked, alarmed. She seemed unsure of what to do.

Kaidan didn't hesitate. "Right behind you, Commander."

Notes:

C-rats: c-rations (term for MREs during WWII/Korean War era)

I only wrote half of the news brief. The first two sentences are from the game, verbatim.

Quote from Tennyson's Ulysses according to SparkNotes.

Apologies for the Riddick reference. I couldn't resist.