Normandy Starboard Observation Lounge, 0600 Hours

Kathryn stood facing the window, staring at the stars which sat beyond and the blue wisps of FTL travel that lay between them, a steaming cup in her hands. When she first awakened on Lazarus station, the stars had been cold, inviting her to her death again and reminding her of the vacuum which awaited her outside her windows constantly; a predator waiting to strike as it had once before. She couldn't bear to look at the dead space around the ship, closing the view-port in her stateroom and even requesting Joker close the shutters around his cockpit when she was in, the cold sweats and apprehensions unbearable as she reached back for phantom air-tubes and clutched at no-longer present hardsuits. As the mission wore on, however, she found herself becoming more and more tolerant of them, fear evolving into respect for the death that could await her out there as she came to realize that her death by vacuum was no less likely than collector or geth or reaper – or now Cerberus. The stars, the blackness beyond the window, the void between herself and the next slice of life came to be a place of contemplation, a fair but unyielding mistress of the unknown, benign to those who protected themselves, vicious to those who failed. The blackness became a cloak in which the future was wrapped, a covering for futures and events and battles yet unknown, undecided, just as her death had been , a slight solace of possibility on nights or mornings when the future seemed dim in comparison to the twilight of the last day and the path shrouded in misty doubt.

The doors slid open behind her, awakening her from her reverie, a slight intake of breath the only marker as her eyes continued to stare outwards. Garrus walked up beside her, a cup of something hot and dextro in his hands which she had yet learned was the Turian equivalent of coffee, the smell vaguely dusty. He stood next to her, matching her gaze into the vastness outside the window, silent, until she saw his head angle forwards and her eyes focused on his reflection, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection. When he spoke, it was softer, his subharmonics kept low and his voice soft.

"Are you hiding, Shepard?"

Kathryn laughed slightly, mildly raising an eyebrow as she responded.

"Hiding from what?"

"Well, I passed Vega cooking something on my way for bathka, and it smelled vaguely like armor-varnish. Not exactly the way I picture my 'full and complete breakfast.' "

Another chuckle, a sip of coffee.

"I think he was making eggs, smelled pretty decent, I'm not responsible for how your nose interprets it. I've heard rocket blasts tend to mess with your sense of smell."

Garrus chuckled lowly, taking another sip from his drink, the sounds strangely loud from his lack of lips. Silence permeated the room as the two stood, looking out. While intangible, the silence was familiar to both of them, the same silence that came from a shuttle before it landed, from a field before a lone sniper shot. It was the sound of preparation, the blanketing apprehension for events yet to come, a mix of confidence and fear so potent that silence was the only medium capable of carrying it. Garrus spoke again, after a few minutes, making eye contact again in the reflective aspect of the window.

"You ready, Kat?"

"For what, Garrus?"

"Make galactic peace, unite races which have been fighting for over a thousand years, save the galaxy? You know, the usual?"

Kathryn closed her eyes and laughed slightly through her nose, a small smile appearing on her face.

"All in a day's work?"

"On the Normandy, absolutely."

They paused again, the silence this time impregnated by the comments about to be made, Shepard becoming increasingly aware of her breathing, of Garrus', of the shifts of their bodies in their armors – his hard and designed to withstand physical impacts, hers formal and intended to deflect diplomatic attacks. The feeling hung in time like a diver at the peak of his dive, Shepard's senses becoming more sensitive, the world coming into focus in every aspect and her mind concentrating her last vestiges of self doubt before steeling itself for the task yet to come.

"This will be one for the record books, that's for sure."

"You're not nervous, are you?"

Again, Kathryn closed her eyes and laughed, bowing her head slightly this time, eyes twitching with a scowl as she did so. When she spoke, it was barely louder than a whisper, an admission of perceived weakness in front of an unforgiving judge and jury, to the one turian she trusted enough to do so.

"How could I not be, Garrus? We've done so much, come so far, but nothing even begins to add up to this. We've fought a rogue spectre, gone to the center of the galaxy, but we've never faced this. This is war on a galactic scale. Billions of people are dying by the minute, and I'm expected to stop it? By what? Convincing Turians and Krogan to play nice? While the Asari run off and pretend nothing's happening and Earth is left to fend for itself? Dammit, even if I get them all to work together today, I'm not sure how much good it will do… I'm no politician, I'm no great leader. I'm just a soldier. With a team. A damn good team, but I'm not this savior everybody seems to think I am…"

By the time Kathryn stopped, she was almost in tears, the hysteria of her situation barely contained behind a strained voice and glassy eyes and trembling lips. Her hands shook as she brought her coffee to her lips, taking a small and tentative sip as the heat and bitterness of the drink grounded her slightly, before she felt the cup be removed from her grip. Garrus took the mug gently from her and walked over to place it on the table, walking back and turning Kathryn to face him, his head angled down and eyes making intense contact with hers as he gripped her on either side of her shoulders.

"Kat, look at me."

Kathryn continued to look down, struggling to regain her composure, to force her doubts back into the dark cage in the back of her mind where she so often kept them, denying them as ardently as she could, pretending as best she could to forget that they existed.

"Kat…"

She looked up, her eyes watering noticeably as she stared into Garrus'.

"Listen to me. There's a saying in the Turian military when recruits are given their first rifle: A cannon and pistol are aimed the same way, all that changes is the picture. This is a bigger fight, Shepard, but you're a bigger soldier than you were. And despite what you say, you are a leader, a great one too. You don't have to be a savior, just be you, be the leader and soldier you've been since I've known you, and that will be enough. You don't have to save the Galaxy, Shepard, just lead the team that will. You did it before, and you'll do it again: That fire you have, the intensity and focus, the drive and unwillingness to accept defeat, people will follow you to hell and back for that. I did. So did Wrex, and Liara, and Tali, and Mordin, and everybody else we've had on this ship."

Kathryn began to smile slightly as Garrus saw the fire light behind her eyes, the blue becoming more vibrant and the water disappearing to seem to reveal a clear, hardened glass, windows to a dogged will which could over-power Reapers and save galaxies if it needed.

"People think you're this savior not because you save them from the danger, but prove to them that they can save themselves. You pull them out of their own self-doubt, out of their own comfortable shelter and show them that they can fight, that there is another way. You've always done that, you do it naturally. You don't need to be anything more than yourself to win this. You don't need to be anything but Commander Shepard, the woman who led a team to catch a Rogue Spectre, who defeated the Collectors, the Woman who is the greatest relief to her allies and the biggest fear of her enemies. They will follow you, Shepard. So just go remind them of that."

Kathryn's smile became slightly more rye as her eyes glanced downwards, peering through Garrus' neck and Cowl a thousand yards away, and Garrus watched as he saw the last bit of doubt leave them, the fierce confidence and absolute determination lighting behind them, her brow set, her face a mask of action, the face of Commander Shepard. She reached up slowly, grabbing the front of his cowl and pulling him down to her, bringing her soft human lips to his hard Turian plates before angling her head, their foreheads coming together in a Turian sign of affection. She spoke softly, fondly, slightly above a whisper but no less heart-felt.

"Thank-you, Garrus. What would I do without you?"

Garrus chuckled slightly, the vibbrations of his subharmonics being felt by Shepard through his head as she reached forwards and took both his hands in hers.

"Probably kick ass and save the galaxy still, but with so much less style."

Shepard laughed, this time in earnest, a heartier laugh that felt real and confident and when she looked up, took a step back, he could see the victory already posing in her eyes as she turned, walking backwards through the couches towards the door.

"Well, then let's go do that, but with all the rocket-blasted style you bring."

Garrus laughed too, crossing his arms and cocking his hips as he turned to face her.

"Never going to let me live that down, are you?"

The call came from over The Commander's shoulder as she had turned to walk squarely out the door, halfway to the elevator as she called out behind her and through the closing door.

"Never, Garrus."

Normandy Conference Room, 0900 Hours

"We uplifted the krogan to do one thing: wage war. It's all they know because it's all we wanted them to know."

Shepard could feel her frustration boiling before then, Wrex and The Primarch clearly willing to cooperate, but The Dalatrass' blatant racism threatening to destroy the entire pretense of peaceful negotiatons. That comment, however, was the last straw, and Shepard's hand came down with enhanced-strength on the table, her open palm making a sound not unlike a gunshot that silenced the room as she began to speak, commanding rather than demanding credence with the steel in her voice. Though she had raised her voice slightly, her words remained carefully chosen and precisely spoken, her annunciation becoming clearer as she felt her anger focus her more, the frustration boiled down into a raw intensity which concentrated her mind and sentiment.

"Enough! Dalatrass, I am done listening to your thinly veiled racism. The Krogan have paid enough for their mistakes, and it is time we gave them a chance to prove that they're more than you assume them to be. Because if you'd read your history, Dalatrass, you'd see that The Krogan had a golden age before, that they built a civilization that included art and expression, that was so much more than your limited assumption of purely war-driven creatures. The Krogan have not only known war because it was all you wanted them to know, the Krogan have only known how to wage war because it is what you have forced them to do. Well, it's about damn time we let them know more, gave them the opportunity to become an integrated part of the Galactic Community again. We need their support against the Reapers, need that warrior drive and unending endurance that has made them so feared that you sterilized them rather than fight conventionally. And if we have to give them a future in return, that is a deal I am more than willing to make."

The Dalatrass stared at Shepard open-mouthed, as she finished, dropping her eyes from Shepard's burning glare before taking a step back, shaking her head in indignation. Shepard looked to Wrex, receiving another brusque nod before the Turian spoke up, drawing all of their attention back to him.

"Whether or not they deserve a cure is academic. It would take years to formulate one."

Wrex's response was defensive, with perhaps a spark of hope, though Shepard couldn't believe she would ever hear something so cheerful from the old Krogan.

"My information says otherwise."

Wrex walked over, pushing the Primarch slightly out of the way as he took over the video screen on the forwards wall of the room, the Primarch nodding his consent as he got out of the way. The screen came to life and Shepard saw a recording of an STG operative walking through one of their bases while Wrex explained the benefit of Maleon's work, however monstrous it may have been. Immediately the Dalatrass started spurting denials, a pattern Shepard had seen so often before, lighting Wrex into a passionate argument and the Primarch into a pointed question. Again, Shepard could feel her patience wearing thin.

"How will curing the genophage benefit my people?"

The room turned towards Shepard who stood silently at her end of the table, looking down at the terminal in front of her. After a minute of silence, she spoke, her voice quiet but intense, frigid in her tone and lethally exacting. Shepard looked down while she spoke, the other delegates leaning in to hear her, but when she finally looked up at The Dalatrass, her eyes could be described as nothing but deadly.

"Last time I checked, Dalatrass, you were in no position to combat the Reapers alone. Earth and Palavan are being decimated by their forces at the same time, and I'm sure Sur'kesh is not too far behind. So unless you want to be standing in the corpses of your entire race and held responsible for their genocide by these monsters, I might take a minute to consider what you just said. If you're going to avoid slaughter, then you're going to have to accept alliances with us, because otherwise your world and your people are going burn. And we might have come to save you, but perhaps we'll just reciprocate an attitude like yours and let them eviscerate you; since the time it gives us would, what was it you said? 'Benefit my people?' "

Silence hung in the room as Shepard's words rang in all everyone's ears as she cringed internally, wondering if she might have taken it too far, the dalatrass still reeling from her attack, backed up almost to the bulkhead, staring. Shepard took in a breath through her mouth and exhaled it through her nose, relaxing her eyes that had narrowed as she talked and began again, her voice softer now, though no less commanding.

"Dalatrass I don't want more people to die than have to. We're here to save our races. But if these negotiations fall through, if you refuse to cure the Genophage, this is going to turn out to be a very short war for the Salarians."

At this point the Primarch stepped in, recovered from the shock of hearing the threats Shepard delivered.

"And I'll be the last friendly Turian you ever see."

The Dalatrass bowed her head, massaging the expanse of flesh between her eyes and her mouth. When she spoke, she sounded defeated, disappointed, though Shepard doubted the other two present cared half as much as she did, which was very little to begin with.

"The females are being kept at one of our STG bases on Sur'Kesh."

Before she had finished her statement, Shepard, Wrex, and Victus were all turning to walk out of the room, going to make various preparations for their assumed imminent departure for Sur'Kesh. The Dalatrass continued, seeing their movements and yelling in protest.

"You're not setting foot on Sur'Kesh! This will take time to – "

This time, it was Victus who interrupted her, hostility and annoyance present in his subharmonics as he spoke.

"It happens now. As a Spectre, Shepard can oversee the exchange."

Shepard turned, speaking over her shoulder as she stood at the door, her voice once more icy and commanding,

"We're going."

She, Wrex, and Victus walked out, all tuning out the desperate protests of the inflamed Dalatrass as they left.

Normandy Deck 1, 1700 Hours

Garrus leaned back on the couch, laughing heartily while Shepard laughed across from him, moving the "meat" that came in her ration pack around on her plate.

"You actually said that, Shepard?"

"I sure did, yep."

"And they believed you?"

"I can be pretty convincing when I need to be."

Garrus used his utensils to take a bite of his own dinner, followed by a drink, after which he continued laughing mildly, Kathryn following suit.

"How many other people know you didn't mean it?"

"Wrex definitely knows, and I think the Primarch figured it out. Mainly I just needed to shock her into allowing negotiations to continue, otherwise I was scared Wrex was going to throw her through the bulkhead."

"Well, nobody will ever say you don't have a… unique, way of negotiating, Kat. Do you think she's going to hold it against you?"

Shepard swallowed, nodding thoughtfully before she answered.

"I think she'll be a little sore about it, yes. But I've seen a few Spectre reports cross my desk saying that the Dalatrass' position is wildly unpopular with her military, and it's a distinct possibility that whether or not she supports me will be academic."

"So we're on our way to Sur'kesh now, huh?"

"That we are, yes."

Garrus nodded slowly as he took another bite of his food, finishing his plate before sliding it forwards on the table.

"How messy do you think it's going to get down there?"

Shepard licked her lips as she swallowed her last bite bringing her nutrient drink to rest in her hands as she sat farther back in the couch, thinking.

"Assuming Wrex doesn't get any 'good' ideas, it should be pretty peaceful. We'll still bring a team, though, still be outfitted for combat. I think I'll have the Marines standing by as well."

"You don't think that's going to risk more of an incident?"

Kathryn shook her head, taking a sip of her drink before she answered.

"No. I think it will prove how serious we are to The Salarians, and make Wrex feel better, guns have a weird way of putting him at ease."

"We do pick up an odd crew, don't we?"

"And now we seem to all be coming back together to save the universe."

"Lucky us."

Shepard smiled as she stood up, gathering her plate as she looked at Garrus who looked up, mandibles flaring in slight curiosity.

"Well I'm here, so you better consider yourself lucky!"

"uh huh."

Author's Notes

So, after my mild writer's block yesterday, this is what came out today. I'm working on a chapter for John too, but this is what came out first when I sat down at my computer. I wanted to re-write the negotiation scene a little bit, since I think Kathryn would have a bit more to do with the negotiations than the stock conversation gives her in the game. I try not to play around too much with game conversation, usually just sticking to in-between missions and cutscenes and such, but this felt good.

As always, please tell me what you think, comments and critiques are always exceptionally appreciated, and above all else enjoy!

SotS