Mali blinked awake into harsh light, pain stabbing her brain. Where am I? She thought as her eyes tried to focus; but the light was to blinding. She could make out a window, and bare white walls, but nothing else while her eyes were still bleary. With a groan Mali slumped back in defeat; her body felt weak and oddly…crusty; with every movement of her muscles she heard a faint crackling sound. Mali flexed her hand experimentally and the resounding feeling of something cracking against her skin made her open her eyes again. This time it was less jarring than before, but it still took a few seconds to get used too. Finally Mali could make out her hand, and covering it—a cracked brown coating. As Mali flexed her hand again the cracked pieces crumbled and fell to the white bed sheet—dried mud? She thought.

"You're awake." A soft voice stated the obvious. Mali looked up and across the small room to see a tired looking Liara sitting in an armchair next to the window. She had been so quiet—probably sleeping—that Mali hadn't noticed her. Liara did not move from her spot on the couch, instead she asked another question. "How are you feeling?" Instead of answering Mali looked around.

"Where am I?" She asked. As she said this she looked around the room for clues; despite a beeping machine that curved over her bed like a bridge there was none. The room was mostly bare except for the bed, armchair and small table next to it. Bright light from the sun streamed in through the windows, small, puffy white clouds drifted lazily across a blue sky. There was no sign of the storm and rain of yesterday, Mali thought. And then it all came back to her, every last bit of it. Suddenly the scene was no longer peaceful and warm but haunted and tense. The warmth of the sun faded in the cold of her memories. "What happened?" Mali asked, "How did I get here?" She asked, although because of Liara's presence she had a suspicion. It was confirmed when Liara answered.

"You are in the hospital on campus. I found you and carried you here." She explained. Mali narrowed her eyes.

"It can't be as simple as that," Mali replied, "or you wouldn't be sitting here waiting for answers." Mali answered, guarded—testing the waters—seeing how much she might know. Despite the clarity of what Yane had said, her memories were quiet befuddled past that point and Mali didn't know really what had happened afterward. Inside, Liara was a turmoil of emotion: confusion, worry, anger; but she did not let any of it show, staying calm and collected on the outside.

"Yes, an explanation would be helpful." Liara answered. Mali thought quickly and hoped that this would be enough.

"I got lost on my way back because the rain was so thick, and then I fell over a rock and twisted my ankle." Mali lied. Immediately Liara knew that she had been lied too, and by the angry expression on her face Mali knew that she knew; but Liara had expected as much. Trying to get true answers about Mali's past was like extracting a rusty nail from a foot—painful and difficult. Mali was the most stubborn girl Liara had ever met.

"That is the stupidest lie I have ever heard from you," Liara said angrily, "you are not clumsy, and you are not careless—unless perhaps in regards to your life—which you don't care for at all. To you it has about as much worth as a tin can on the side of the road."

"Liara, I swear that's not how—," Liara raised a sarcastic eyebrow.

"Is it?" she held up a hand, stopping Mali, "Your actions constantly prove otherwise: Always throwing yourself into danger, taking risks—and you barely eat." Mali's eye's widened unconsciously. "Yes," Liara said, noting her look, "I've noticed, and to top it all off, yesterday I found you crying in the mud during a rainstorm, half-dead from cold. Explain to me why you would do that—if not because you do not care to live?" Liara asked.

"Liara, I swear that I do care—once, maybe, I didn't—but now, I met you a-a-and I'm here, in the program," Mali stuttered, shocked, "I'm trying. I really am trying. Just, things happen, and I have times where I remember things, and I can't."

"What things Mali? What happened yesterday?" Liara sharply demanded. Deep inside, Mali truly wanted to tell her—to finally confide in someone, but something held her back. She had kept it in so long that it was like it was stuck, like a piece of food in her throat, and all she could do was choke and gag around it. After a few moments of intense struggle Mali shook her head.

"I want to tell you. I want to tell you so bad, but I just cant." Mali answered, choking. Unbidden, a few tears welled in her eyes, prime to fall. "It's just too painful, I can't get it out of me." Liara shook her head in disappointment.

"Mali, you could be so happy here. Yet you carry around this secret and it weighs you down, and someday you might find that you've sunk so low that you can never swim back up." Liara stood from her seat. "A friendship is built on trust and honesty Mali and I find that I do not find either of them in you." Mali blinked in shock. "Do not misunderstand me, you ARE my friend, but you hide things from me and, even worse, I cannot trust you with your own life. So I find that I cannot bare this." Liara walked to the door.

"Liara what are you doing?" Mali asked, frightened.

"Come find me when you are ready to talk." She did not turn around, but walked out of the room. "Liara?" Mali's confused and hurt voice followed her out. Outside the room, Liara slumped against the wall. Doing that had taken more than she had thought it would, but it had had to be done. This was the only way she could think of to help Mali, and she believed that a little distance was good for Mali—for both of them- while she figured out whatever it was she was hiding. Standing tall again, Liara moved off down the busy corridor.

Back in the room Mali sat, hurt and shocked. The only ally she had had in this place had just walked out on her for no reason—well, besides what she had said about trustworthiness and what not. After all they had been through, she was just going to desert her? Mali would not deny—it had only been like a week—but it felt like she had known Liara for most of her life. Mali huffed and laid back against the pillows. What was she going to do now? She thought. Barely a second later she answered it with determination. She would keep on doing what she had been doing before she had met Liara—surviving. She would heal and get out of this hospital, go through the N7 program, and then she would see where the future took her. Mali snuggled in closer to the pillows and closed her eyes, sleepiness dragging them down; but however Mali pretend to herself that what had just happened didn't hurt her, it did. And the last words Liara had said kept ringing in her ears: "Come find me when you are ready to talk."

I

Mali was released two days later, her gun wound completely healed. Now she was walking toward the council hall yet again, late for an appointment with Admiral Dickens. Clint, newly reinstated to his original post, followed close behind. As they entered the council building, Mali followed Dickens's instructions and instead of going right to the council room she turned left and down the hall to where a door stood. She knocked, and Dickens's voice answered.

"Come in." he said. Mali stepped through—Clint waiting outside—and she sat down in one of the two chairs opposite the admiral.

"Your office is smaller than I expected." Mali said.

"Yes, well, military honors only mean something during ceremonies." Dickens answered. "I called you here because it's time for you to re-enter the program, and since you missed the instruction meeting for all of the rest of the students, I will give you a debrief." He shuffled some papers around and handed one to Mali. "This will be your schedule. As a student you will participate with other students in a variety of classes that will expand your knowledge and skill. Along with classes, you will have drill practice thrice a week with your squad mates to teach and familiarize military strategies and ceremonial conduct."

"Squad mates?" Mali asked.

"The students that passed their tests were divided into squads, there are about six of them. Each squad lives together in a bunkhouse on campus. Once a month squads compete with one another to gain points for their squad, in the end resulting in graduating early, at the end of six months. However, because of your unique abilities, your schedule is not quite like the others." Mali pretended to read over her schedule—she would have Vic analyze it later.

"How so?"

"You do not need as much teaching in some areas as others do, mainly the hand-to-hand and gun handling courses. So we had to fill your schedule with some reserve courses that were meant for later, with a unique class for biotics training. You and a few other students are so advanced in hand-to-hand and gun handling that the only people who could teach you something was either me or Shepard and I'm too busy running things to take time out to teach. There is something else… "

"What?" Mali asked, feeling like she knew the answer.

"Dr. T'soni came to me and asked that she would be taken from your schedule and replaced with others, however because you were signed up already for her class I couldn't completely do as she asked. She felt like she wasn't a good enough biotics teacher, which we both knew was crap." Dickens looked at her strangely. "Did something happen between you two?" He asked.

"You tell me," Mali only partway lied, "I'm as confused as you are." Dickens hmphed but did not press the matter. Inside Mali was partially hurt.

"A campus map has been uploaded to your omni-tool, you will begin next week Monday. All meals will be taken in the hall where you last where for the orientation breakfast; meals are at seven-thirty, twelve, and sixteen-hundred, however some squads like to eat in their bunkhouses. You will not be late unless you do not wish to eat. Teachers will be treated with respect and referred to as Professor, ma'am, or sir; the uniform will be given to you on your fist day."

"Why so early?" Mali complained.

"This isn't a vacation. Its boot-camp and you will do as you're told." Dickens said sternly. "If others can manage it, so can you." Mali rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. "Your bunkhouse and squadron have been assigned but do not go there until Sunday evening. Until then a room has been set up for you, Clint will lead you there."

"Does this mean I go?" Mali said, throwing a thumb in the direction of the door behind her.

"Yes, you're dismissed." Dickens said. "

"Thank you admiral." Mali said, giving a mock solute.

"Get your butt outa here." He said, not unkindly, and Mali left.

"Clint, I think I'm favoring a walk just now." Mali said and started off, him trailing a polite distance away. She pulled out her omni-tool—she had forgotten about how they had video feeds from inside the house—that they had seen her omni-tool. As long as they never found out that an AI was inside, Mali thought that they would be safe. On her own, Mali pulled up the campus map and studied it. There were the four buildings, and then green surrounded it. As Mali moved the map around she located a smallish white square that had a number five glowing above it. It was a little far from the buildings, about a half-mile away. Mali realized that that was her bunkhouse, but as she looked, she couldn't find any others. What the? Mali thought. By now her fast pace had brought her to the entrance to the campus. Mali pulled out her shiny new badge, handed it to the guard, and when cleared walked in.