Chapter Sixteen

Shepard groaned, blinking groggily in the dim light shining through the overhead viewport. It was muted, dulled by the automatic environmental controls in her cabin, but it still stung her eyes this morning. She squeezed her eyes shut again and burrowed back into the warmth of her covers. She needed a few more minutes before she could face getting out of bed.

Her head was pounding, and her stomach was clenching as though it was trying to squeeze out all the booze she had overloaded it with last night. Nausea tickled the base of her throat but she swallowed and suppressed it. She had drunk way too much last night. Way too much.

It wasn't a good look for the commander of a ship, she thought with a wince. She knew Revan wasn't the kind of person to run around the ship gossiping, but she didn't need to. Shepard knew, with a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach, that it wouldn't matter. Cerberus was watching everything. All the time, always.

No, that wasn't just a sinking feeling. Shepard stumbled to her feet and rushed across the cabin, making it to her tiny bathroom just in time to throw up into the toilet bowl.

Afterward, she sat down on the cold deck plating with a thump and forced herself, through a pounding head, to take stock of just what Cerberus now knew about her – and Revan. It was a lot, and all of it was very, very personal. She was still trying to get her head around some of what Revan had revealed.

If Revan was being honest with her – and every instinct Shepard possessed was telling her she was – then she had killed millions, perhaps even billions of innocent people. She had conquered planets. Whole star systems. The sheer scale of that… Shepard shook her head helplessly. The fact that Revan didn't remember doing so made little difference, when you considered that if she got just a little bit too angry about something she could very well wake up one morning and start doing the same thing here.

Shepard knew she should be thinking very seriously about whether she still wanted Revan to remain aboard the Normandy, now she had a better understanding of what, exactly, a Dark Lord of the Sith was. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to.

Shepard drew a knee up to her chest and set her chin on it, staring at the sink without seeing it and trying to unpack her feelings on the subject. Revan was powerful, probably her most valuable team member in terms of both skills and experience, and Shepard would be lying if she said that wasn't a factor in her decision, but if she had the slightest suspicion that Revan would become that same terrifying monster once again her skills shouldn't matter in the least. And there was a chance, she knew it. A not insignificant one, considering what she had learned about possible emotional triggers. The woman was stuck in another galaxy with a homicidal mech and the ex who had abandoned her, for fuck's sake. She was a long way away from any support system she might have had back home.

But despite all that, Shepard couldn't help but think it wasn't going to happen. After everything Revan had been through, particularly at the hands of the Jedi Council, she was still actively fighting to adhere to the moral code of a Jedi because she felt it was the right thing to do. And in addition to that, she wasn't just sitting off in some corner, brooding; she was beginning to actively make friends, make connections in this new world she found herself in. With Shepard herself, and possibly Matthran Cherry too – they seemed to be getting along well, judging by the chatter between them on Purgatory. It was almost as if she knew she needed the support.

She doubted it was as calculating or self-serving as that, though. Revan had been nothing but genuine. Last night had even been fun, until they had both reached the sad-drunk stage and started pouring their hearts out to one another. Shepard stifled a groan, but it was mostly reflex. It had hurt to talk about Kaidan, and Carth, and what Cerberus had done to her… but in the end, she had felt better. She was still feeling better.

Especially after Revan had used the Force to look inside her mind, and Shepard finally knew for sure that after everything Cerberus had done to her, she was okay. More than okay. She was herself.

For a moment she found herself blinking back tears again as she remembered the huge weight that had lifted off her shoulders as Revan told her. Cerberus hadn't implanted any surprises when they were rebuilding her. She wasn't a clone, or a really sophisticated mech. She was the same old Shepard she had always been, just a little… enhanced.

She couldn't possibly put into words how much knowing that meant to her.

No, Revan would be welcome on her ship for as long as it took to get her home, and Shepard would protect her new friend from anything the Illusive Man tried to throw at her in the meantime.

Swiping a hand across damp eyes, Shepard looked around her bathroom, seeing it for probably the first time this morning. She couldn't sit around moping all day, and since she was here already, she might as well have a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she was showered, dressed, loaded up on painkillers, and realising that while she had a selection of Cerberus uniform pieces to choose from that were each as stunningly high fashion as the last, Revan and Carth had been thrown across the universe without so much as a toothbrush. If they were going to be stuck here for a while, they could probably use a change of clothes.

She grabbed a couple of shirts and a pair of plain black pants from her closet and headed for the door. She was a little taller than Revan, but they had approximately the same athletic body type. As for Carth, Jacob Taylor was a good deal more muscular but the two were the same height. Maybe he would have a few spares he could offer their guest.

When she arrived at the armoury, Jacob was already hard at work taking apart and cleaning a rifle. His hands were sure and deft despite their size, and his process was satisfyingly efficient. It was… compelling. So much so that she didn't realise she had been standing there staring until he cleared his throat.

"Morning, Commander," he said, the ghost of a slightly uncertain smile on his face.

She blinked and mentally shook herself. "Morning Jacob," she replied awkwardly. Clearing her throat, she gestured at the rifle parts. "You're good at that."

His smile grew more confident. "One of my drill sergeants back in basic liked to run competitions to see who could field-strip and reassemble their rifle the fastest. I won every time."

Shepard raised her eyebrows. It was many years ago now, but that sounded familiar. "Really? Was that, uh… Kovalyov?"

He stopped what he was doing. "Wait, you mean Donnie? Donald Duck? You had him too? No way."

Shepard took a few steps toward him. "A guy on my training squad – bit of an asshole really – spotted webbed toes on his right foot and gave him the nickname. It wasn't really in the best taste but still, it stuck. I would have been, what… a year or two ahead of you going through basic?"

"Yeah, that'd be about right." Jacob laughed, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the work bench. "Shit. We always thought the nickname was because of that high-pitched croak that came out of his mouth whenever he yelled too loud."

Shepard shook her head. "Nope. Webbed foot. We never did find out why he didn't just get it fixed."

"I don't think he could afford it. He was sending money pretty regularly back to his family on Oliveira."

Shepard winced. "Shit. Teasing him about it definitely wasn't in the best taste."

Jacob's smile turned rueful. "Yeah. I bet he thought the nickname was due to the croaking, though, if that makes you feel better."

"A bit, I suppose." She sighed. "I was an idiot in basic. I… just went along with things a lot."

Jacob snorted. "I think we were all idiots in some way back then. But damn, Shepard, I had no idea we trained on the same base. Small world. Or galaxy, I guess."

"Small universe," she cracked, cocking her head in the direction of Revan's makeshift quarters in Starboard Observation. "Who would have thought, back in basic, that we would run into people from another galaxy one day?"

"It wasn't on my bingo card. I guess we know for sure that we're not the only galaxy with sentient beings now. That's a big find."

"Huge." Shepard nodded thoughtfully. He had a point. And the implications of that extended far beyond their mission to stop the Reapers. "They're a lot more advanced than we are, you know. Turians, asari, salarians… all of us. Most species have been in space for tens of thousands of years in the galaxy far, far away."

Jacob raised his eyebrows. "That's… a romantic name for it."

"It is," she chuckled briefly to cover a sudden stab of self-consciousness. She quite liked that name. "That's what Carth called it when we were discussing it on the Citadel, remember?" Recognition dawned in Jacob's eyes, and she relaxed, dimly realising at the same time that she was actually having a friendly conversation with Mr Meat-and-Tubes, Jacob Taylor… and enjoying it. "The Galaxy Far Far Away has benefitted from a society filled with hundreds of different species, and the billions of different ideas that produces. Revan told me a couple of stories of major space battles from her galaxy's history too, and damn… they have ships that are kilometres long, with the kind of firepower we only see in sci fi movies. Not even the Destiny Ascension comes close.

"And then, there are the Jedi. They're like… space wizards. Not like our biotics, with their implants and eezo, all explained by science… they have a mystical Force that they draw on to gain power. Revan isn't unique in her abilities, you know. There are hundreds, maybe thousands more just like her. Well, maybe not just like her," she amended, belatedly realising that she was babbling. Revan's galaxy was just so interesting. Jacob seemed not to care that she was babbling, however; in fact, he looked just as engaged as she was. "Judging by what she and the droid have said, I get the impression she's a cut above the rest."

Jacob shifted to lean against the bulkhead, facing her fully. "Yeah, I've heard similar things about that galaxy—the Galaxy Far Far Away's," he amended with a grin, "strength from Carth. It sounds… exciting. Intimidating. The possibilities… Shepard, if we can get our hands on some of their technology, it'll give us a huge advantage against the Reapers." She nodded in agreement and he paused, meeting her gaze. His eyes were an intense, warm nutmeg. "Not gonna lie, though, the fact they're so advanced makes my spidey-senses tingle a bit."

She grimaced and pushed away from the wall, pacing a few steps. Now they came to the reality of it, the one she didn't particularly want to address now that she and Revan were becoming friends. "You're not the only one," she admitted grudgingly. "We'd be a very easy target for anyone from that galaxy with ambitions to conquer more territory – Darth Malak, for example, the Lord of the Sith Revan was on a quest to kill before she found herself here." She shook her head. "I don't want to jump to any conclusions, though, or start worrying about a possibility so remote it will probably never happen. We know Revan, Carth and HK got here through a Conduit which was located in an abandoned temple. That means it was small, as well as, you know, abandoned. The chances of someone else finding their way through the same way are pretty slim. Right now, all we need to worry about – if there is even anything to worry about – is those three. And even if they wanted to start a war with us, they couldn't. We're their best option for getting home."

"Do you think it's worth withholding it? Their way home. For… security reasons?" Jacob asked in a low, cautious voice. His distaste for the idea was obvious, but it was an option, and Shepard would be lying if she said she hadn't considered it herself at one point. "If we can even find them one…"

"No," Shepard replied firmly. "Revan and I had a long talk last night. I learned a lot about her galaxy, and about her. She revealed something to me, something that required her to put a lot of trust in me. She's genuine, and she's the commander of their little group. Strategically – not to mention morally – the right thing to do is to be genuine with her as well."

Jacob nodded, and seemed to relax ever so slightly. Shepard got the distinct impression that she had just passed a test. "Yeah, I agree." He paused for a moment, thinking. "What happens if we find a way to travel between galaxies that's a little bigger than a single conduit in an abandoned temple, though?"

He was certainly asking all the hard questions today. "We'll just have to deal with that if it ever happens. At that point, it wouldn't just be about a few intergalactic travellers helping us out for a while. Governments would need to get involved." She eyed him, evaluating, before continuing. Jacob wasn't exactly espousing the Cerberus party line today. Perhaps it was worth testing that a little. "Diplomatic ties will need to be created. Contingency plans drawn up. Such a thing cannot be left up to Cerberus alone, no matter what you think of them."

His eyes flickered over to EDI's little projection shelf for a moment before returning to meet hers, and it felt like something had changed between them. He set his jaw firmly before replying. "I agree."

She raised her eyebrows. There was a lot more to those two little words than met the eye, so to speak. They both knew they were probably being monitored, but apparently Jacob didn't care. Had he just told her his loyalty was to her, rather than Cerberus? And if so, why?

"Really?" she asked carefully. Was this a guilt thing, maybe? Rooted in how he had treated her when she had first woken up?

"Yes," he replied decisively. "I've had a lot of time to think about this, Shepard. The advancement of the human race is a noble goal on its own, but I don't think it should be at the expense of the other species in this galaxy. And it will be, if such a huge advantage is given to Cerberus."

"Right." She nodded slowly. Well, shit. Not a guilt thing, then. Interesting… and admirable. But that was enough for now. She didn't want to wake up the next morning to find Jacob had been disappeared, or something. "Well, all of that is a long way off, if it happens at all, and we have more immediate concerns." She lifted the folded clothing in her arms. She had come down just to borrow some clothes, and had ended up with what she thought might have been a declaration of loyalty from Jacob Taylor. And… a good conversation, too. "If Revan and Carth are going to help us out, they'll need more than one change of clothes to do it in. I dropped in to see if you might have any spare clothing you could lend to Carth until we're able to pick them up some of their own on the Citadel."

"Oh, sure, I can spare some pants and a shirt or two." Jacob made his way over to a small cabinet in the corner next to his cot and began rifling through clothing.

She watched him go. Now she was sure she had gotten the wrong impression of him when they had first met. The man was honest, upfront, and seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve. She had to admit she was starting to like him.

A/N: Things are starting to come together for this story a little more now, and I'm fairly certain about Shepard's romance. I'll update the pairings once I've got it nailed down. It will be (and has been!) a slow burn, but please note that it will *not* become a Shepard/Revan romance.

Thanks for reading so far and I'm glad you're enjoying it!