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Chapter 2

He Said

Meetings after meetings after meetings. That's all my day had been. Every last one of them revolved around the political, legal, and logistical nightmare of bringing Commander Avery Shepard in from the cold, and old term for bringing in a deep cover operative from his or her operation dating back to Earth's Cold War days in the mid-20th. Donnell Udina hadn't made a single one of those meetings go smoothly. He objected at every damn turn as often as he could to every concession Anderson wanted to have for his returning Spectre. As her former third officer, head of her Marine detachment, and ranking survivor of The Normandy SR-1, I was expected to somehow know how to make her particular square peg fit in the Alliance's round hole.

The last meeting wrapped up late, more out of frustration than because we'd accomplished anything. Worn out, I took a short cut to the modest apartment I could afford on my miniscule salary as an Alliance attaché to the Council. I knew she was going to be at the Citadel, at least in the morning. The meetings about her were finally going to include her.

Suddenly, she was right in front of me. I froze momentarily. She hadn't noticed me, yet. She seemed to be lost in thought and not paying attention to her surroundings. This was very unusual for Avery Shepard. She was always the most alert person in any group. I folded my arms clutching the faux leather cover of my datapad to my chest and watched her. Even absently, she moved with an uncanny grace. I doubted she'd ever had an awkward moment in her life. Her straight brown hair was a mess, but that was just Avery. I remembered when she'd been a blonde, her long hair caught up in a thick bun, which still managed to be messy by the end of the day. Cerberus must not have had time to get it back to her preferred length and color.

Cerberus. At the end, that's what it came down to. Had they really brought her back? From the dead? Or had they lied to her? The Alliance's, and the Council's, official line was that she'd been deep cover for two years. Doing what, according to them, I could never figure out.

And then, she'd disappeared. Again. But this time, her ship and crew had disappeared with her. And then came back, just as mysteriously, with the same ship that was just barely holding together. Then Anderson with his, "It's time to bring Shepard in out of the cold."

I remembered Horizon, and shouting at her, throwing the words "betrayal" and "traitor" in her face, and my pitifully lame email later on, apologizing for my stupidity. But when she'd never replied, I assumed the damage had been done by my big mouth and she'd moved on.

And there she was in front of me. She stopped in her tracks and looked around, I could see irritation and confusion crossing her pretty face from where I stood. Then she spotted me and her expression, for one painful second, changed to terror and then worse, went blank with that empty social smile she pasted on for the likes of Udina.

At least she met me halfway, but when she held out her hand to be politely shaken, I felt my face harden. She'd put me on that list of hers. She never spoke of it but it was the list of people she didn't trust, she didn't care for and didn't want to have anything to do with. It hurt to know that. More than I ever thought it possible, it hurt to know she'd relegated me to something to distance herself from, to someone she didn't want to associate with.

"Hello, Commander Alenko," she greeted me, coldly, professionally. Politely.

"Commander Shepard." Two could play at this game, I thought. Her fingers were cold and small in my hand.

"How've you been?" She'd had to wrench her hand from mine. I'd hung on to it too long. I would have blushed, but I was too busy keeping my poker face intact.

"Oh, you know, meetings," I said, vaguely, pulling my eyes away from her. I'd caught myself staring at her, memorizing every detail to remember later. "What are you up to?"

She shrugged her strong shoulders, bared by that dress, "I was headed back to the ship. Not really in the mood for celebrating."

In spite of myself, I was curious. "Celebrating what?"

She looked away, "I can't really tell you that. At least not here, Commander." At least she didn't tell me it was above my paygrade.

"Then, when --?" But the squawk of a voice over her communicator made her shift into Commander Shepard. The change was as noticeable as it was instant. I'd been talking to Avery Shepard, and the Commander interrupted.

"Say, again, Joker?" She demanded, her left hand up to her ear to hear better. "Shit. Patch me in to Legion, NOW!"

I could hear a few clicks over the com unit earbug before I could hear a tinny, inhuman voice, "Shepard-Commander?" What the hell was going on?

"Legion, listen to me! Download EDI! Now! Save her as best you can and get the hell off the ship! Do it, Legion, now! Get me back to Joker!" There was a pause, her blue eyes flinty as she stared somewhere over my left shoulder. "Joker, patch me through to Vakarian and get the hell off the ship. Use an escape pod if you have to! Is there anyone else still on the ship? No? Good, get out! Legion'll have to take care of himself. Get me Vakarian." My eyebrows went up. What the hell did Garrus have to do with anything?

"Garrus, do you read me? Get everyone to the docking bay, now! On the double, Officer!" She reached down before she was done talking and yanked off her high heeled sandals. Then turned her hard blue eyes to me, "You're going to come with me. I'm going to need your help to get a geth to safety."