|| Sunrise Gray ||


2.


"What's on the menu," she asks, smiling at the doctor.

Several weeks ago, three to be exact, the Normandy crew gathered in the Mess for a team dinner. It was 1600 about, and Karin and Anderson were on either side of her, the table full as Braithlyn Anne Shepard directed her question to the cooking staff. All was well.

"You in the mood for something that tastes like chicken," Gregory Adams says, slated for cooking that evening, and they all rotated because there really was no dedicated staff for cooking, "…or something that tastes kind of like pork." The table erupts with a unified groan. "You expect me to run the ship and cook something worthy of your culinary sophistications?"

"Serve and they'll eat whatever you can find out of the stock-fridge, Greg," Anderson looks at them all with a face that tells them clearly they are to spare his chief engineer the hassle.

"If it's going to be a while," Braithlyn turns and extends her arm, wearing her fatigues but not her coat—which is on the floor against a wall and a bin, left there by accident, "…I'm going to put on my top here," she draws the coat to her hand by her power.

"Commander," Kaidan Alenko chuckles and grins at the others raising their eyebrows in wonder, "…I believe that action violates at least several regulations aboard an Alliance vessel."

Dressed down in her pants and a tanktop, belt and holster around her waist, Braithlyn starts to draw her sleeves on her arms, then button the middle to her chest, "…I believe we can cut some corners, Lieutenant Alenko," she smiles and raises her eyes to his. The clearance of a deep chest beside her makes Braithlyn hesitate.

"You should think about what type of example you're setting, Shepard." Anderson meets her eyes from behind his big dark hands, thick fingers.

"I didn't think it would be a big deal…You've all seen me in action," she shrugs.

"I'd be careful, Shepard," Joker lifts his cup gingerly, his Vrolic Syndrome bothering him more than usual that day, and he can feel the dark energy more sensitively due to his brittle-bone condition, "…The captain might have to order Alenko to strap on some blocker over your ears." Anderson and the crew chuckles, but Braith is silent…Looking between Joker and Braith Shepard, the crew sees something nasty crawl out onto her face, darkening her expression. She stands.

"Bad choice in jokes, Jeff."

Her eyes are wide and carry something eerie…Ghosts of memories and horrors as she remembers being an orphan, what was done to her, what she was put through, and how she was controlled…Anderson and the rest see a fire start to light in her eyes, but Kaidan, "…Shepard, it's us…Relax," his voice and his words make the fire dim.

"Someone's got issues," someone whispers…Braith blinks and looks around her—Anderson, Karin, Joker, Kaidan, Jenkins, the rest, even Adams are staring at her in silence…As if a krogan just barreled through the Mess and she was the only who didn't notice it…

Or maybe she had been that figurative krogan.

Karin pulls out a paper napkin, but Anderson's hand stops her from rising up and giving this to Shepard to wipe her eyes, "…Karin," he shakes his head.

Braith raises her fingers unsteadily to her face and tests her cheek…She draws her fingertips away to see wetness on these, "…I'm…Sorry…What just happened?"

"You had a flashback," Kaidan said, understanding, "…You've been under blocks before?" Braith takes a step backwards and trips.

"Commander—"

Kaidan's mind melds with his power and he extends his arm, catching her.

Something happens—Braith's mind melds with her power.

"Duck!" Anderson orders everyone to bow down under the table as the combination of dark energies from two different biotic sources ignites, sending their plasticware, water and juice to all sides of the Mess and covering everyone's clothes, every surface, a bright flare and a frightening explosion of noise that pops and rings everyone's ears…Braith's biotics only triggered in defense of her.