Nikki had thought Alenko and William's reaction to their first look at the Citadel and its fleets had been impressive, but it was nothing compared to Tali.

Of course the young quarian had been on the giant space station that made up the heart of galactic civilization before, but the first time she'd made the approach she had been paying off her passage by working away below decks and never actually seen it.

Shepard hadn't said anything when she found out that little tidbit of information, simply made herself a silent promise. Oh, and checked with Adams to make sure he didn't assign Miss Zorah to any vital duties during the approach.

The poor quarian didn't know what to expect when the commander's voice rang out over comms, ordering her to 'get your ass out of engineering and report to the bridge on the double!' Tali had appeared slightly out of breath and a little worried but Shepard had simply motioned to the cockpit window and instructed:

"Take a look."

There was a moment of awed silence before an excited garble of Khelish rushed out, too fast for the Alliance translators to work. Nikki just laughed as she shared a glance with Joker.

"I'm gonna assume that's good."

"It's... That's... Keelah..." Tali trailed off again, seemingly not knowing where to look, head tilting in all directions trying to follow the various ships passing by outside.

"I think you broke her." Joker quipped.

"Hmm, I think so too." Shepard mused when the quarian didn't respond. They smirked at each other before leaving Tali to her wonderment and concentrating on getting clearance to land from Citadel flight control.

As Joker started his approach run, Shepard noticed something different to usual about their designated bay. Her fingers flew across the haptic interface, an eyebrow rising of its own accord as she accessed the camera feeds to get a closer look at their welcoming committee.

"Isn't that..."

"Shit!" The two Alliance officers synchronised as the image of the man waiting for them became clear.

Tali's startled 'what?' was ignored as the commander activated the ship wide comm system.

"All hands prepare for inspection, we've got the B.O.B inbound. I repeat, Bear of Bodom inbound."

The ship broke into organised chaos as people scrambled to bring dozens of tiny extra details that were deigned relatively insignificant on a combat ready ship back in line with the more stringent regulations expected when in the vicinity of the Alliance brass.

Shepard was only half joking when she asked: "I suppose it's too late to fake engine failure and emergency land in a different bay?"

"Afraid so."

"Thought as much... At least set the decontamination protocols in the airlock to max, that should give us a bit more time. I'll go out and greet him the moment we dock." Nikki sighed as she cast a critical eye over her uniform, making sure her insignia was straight. "Typical, the one day I'm not wearing my blues."

There was a snort from the pilot beside her.

"Uh Commander? You hardly ever wear your blues."

"I do too."

Joker didn't look convinced.

"When was the last time you wore dress uniform?"

Nikki actually had to stop and think a moment.

"Anderson made me wear it for the meeting with the Ambassador."

The pilot smirked victoriously.

"What? Have you tried quick changing into combat armour from dress blues? The no.4 uniform is so much more practical. Oh, stop it before I write you up for something. That grin's got to be against regulations."

...

"Well that wasn't so bad." Shepard opined as they watched the departing elevator carry Rear Admiral Mikhailovich away from their presence and waited on the next one. Her comrades looked positively shocked by her assessment and erupted into expressions of their dissent.

"You're kidding?!"

"He asked if you knew what colour your blood ran?"

"How can you stand that? He ripped your whole ship to shreds."

"No he didn't. Not one complaint about cleanliness or discipline or any infractions of the regs. Well, other than checking whether or not Joker had permission to stop shaving. Instead he criticizes the layout of the CIC. What does he want me to say? 'Yes Sir, terrible that Sir, I'll rip out the entirety of the CIC and overhaul her to an Alliance layout right away Sir'."

She'd been polite and professional, refusing to rise to the Admiral's baiting throughout the inspection, but now he was gone she finally gave voice to her frustration and sarcasm.

There were chuckles from the civilian crew members, but the Alliance squadmates and hierarchy trained turian managed to repress their signs of amusement down to a twitch of the lips and mandibles respectively.

"That'll be a fine use of Alliance funds that will, scrapping a brand new and perfectly functionary frigate that cost as much as a heavy cruiser. He's just upset he can't get his own paws, claws, 'whatever' on the Normandy. As for my blood... It happens to be red. Same colour as quarians and batarians."

"And humanity wonders where their reputation as bullies comes from. Are all Alliance admirals that bigoted?" Liara asked as the elevator finally arrived and they all squeezed inside.

"No. Drescher and Hackett are both good and I've heard decent things about Kahoku. Never met Lindholm or Singh, so don't know about them. Ahern's got something of a grudge against turians but he has more cause than most and even he understands the benefits of a professional working relationship and is willing to train beside them and admit when they get something right."

Shepard trailed off as the lift reached their departure point, internally groaning as she caught sight of a camera drone on the other side of the doors.

"Really? I am so not in the mood for this right now. Alright, everyone dismissed. Get away while you still can. No point us all wasting our shore leave. If you don't hear from me in fifteen minutes please, for the love of all that is holy, someone call me with an emergency."

"Commander Shepard? Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News." The cry came as soon as the elevator door opened, the camera swooping towards her. "Would you answer a few questions for our viewers?"

I'd rather chew my own arm off, she thought bitterly as the rest of the team followed her instructions and discreetly scarpered.

Unfortunately the flashing light indicated the camera was already recording so she had little choice but to stand at ease and call up the same parade ground patience she'd had to use when dealing with Mikhailovich earlier.

Although this time she had the added disadvantage of having to ignore the inappropriate part of her brain singing 'Kidnap the Sandy Claws' in the background. The song having become the marine corp's unofficial theme tune for all Westerlund News employees after they not only swallowed, but also broadcast, the fake news story about Elanos Haliat.

The reporter however had already begun her interview.

"Humans have been trying to get the respect of the galactic community for twenty-six years, with that in mind, what are your feelings on being the first human spectre?"

I wish I was the second! I just want to get on with my job without all the damn press attention. I miss being able to just answer all your questions with the phrase 'no comment'.

"The spectre's represent the best of every species in the galaxy," was what she actually said. Except Saren of course, he's scum. Deeply talented and lethal scum who shouldn't be underestimated, but scum none the less. "Being asked to join them is an honour."

The questions came thick and fast and while she tried to answer as professionally and diplomatically as possible, once she noticed how leading and borderline xenophobic the questions were getting, her sarcasm started to bleed through.

"Do you think it was appropriate to hand Earth's most advanced warship over to the Citadel?"

Arcturus's most advanced ship actually, her home port is registered as Arcturus, not Earth.

"I know the Citadel lifts are slow but when I left her on the docks a moment ago I wasn't aware my ship had been handed over to anyone. I'm in command and last I checked I'm human, same goes for my crew."

"But you do have non-humans onboard, if the council can dictate who you have onboard-"

Kidnap the Sandy Claws, throw him in a box.

"Correction, the council made no such demands. Yes there are civilian contractors aboard the Normandy and yes some of them are non-human, but I'm the one who made that decision, not the council, and I stand by that decision."

"But surely you can understand the security concerns-"

"I do. Better in fact I'd wager, than those members of the press who continuously insist on revealing classified information about ongoing missions, needlessly endangering the lives of the men and women still engaged on those operations. As it stands I've vetted every individual who's joined my ship since I took command and we still have security procedures in place. What you seem to fail to realise is that the Normandy was actually co-developed by the turians, she was always supposed to be a cross-species initiative from the very beginning. We even have the three seashells in the toilets."

"So you're saying the turian hierarchy has details of the Normandy that isn't available to the public?"

Well duh, they're our military allies and the public are civilians! Surely the squad's got to call an emergency through soon. Why can't someone start a fight in the middle of C-Sec right now? Fists, knifes, guns... possible bomb scare... I'm not fussy.

...

"So, do all Alliance ships have the three seashells in the bathroom or is it just yours?" Trish inquired cheerfully as the video connection popped up on her omni-tool and naturally Nikki groaned.

"I can't believe I let her get under my skin."

"Hey, I enjoyed it! It's been the highlight of my day so far."

"How was that only this morning? It feels so long ago."

Trish had had a whole list of comments and teases ready in response to Nikki's interview with Westerlund News, but it was increasingly obvious to her that something was wrong. Nicola seemed... drained.

"Long day?"

"You have no idea. At one point I even found myself playing mediator between a C-Sec officer and a hanar preacher who didn't have a permit."

Trish chuckled.

"Wish I could have seen that."

"Sorry, wasn't wearing my helmet cam around the Presidium. Would've looked stupid wearing a combat helmet with clothes."

"Like you ever cared what people think about your dress sense... There's something else bothering you as well isn't there? If it's something you can't talk about I understand, but I know it's not hanar preachers that has you looking so down."

Nick sighed, giving the slightest dip of her head in acknowledgement. There was a long pause before she finally looked back up and asked:

"Do you remember the Jacksons? Back on Mindoir I mean."

Trish barely hid her frown of confusion, unsure where this random inquiry was coming from or where the conversation was going.

"Yeah, they had the best sweetshop in all of Jemison."

Nikki smiled but it was clearly forced.

"Yeah they did... You remember their daughter Talitha? She was always hanging around with Kev's friends, even though she was younger."

"Tals? Bubbly little thing. Always throwing out double dares, then when she got into trouble for doing something she wasn't supposed to it was all 'but I had to mum, it was a dare'. Right little handful she was."

"Yeah she was." The spectre's voice was soft and sorrowful and Trish wished she could reach through the screen and give her a hug.

"What happened Nick?"

"I got a request this afternoon to come help at the docks, all I got told was a recently rescued slave was loose with a gun and they weren't sure what she was going to do. They believed she was from Mindoir so they thought I might be able to talk to her." There was a deep sigh. "I didn't even recognise her Trish. We talked for ages until I got her to say her name and I never suspected..."

"I'm hardly surprised Nick, it's been thirteen years and she was only little when you saw her last." As soon as she said it Trish realised that probably wasn't as comforting as she'd hoped.

"Yeah I know, but... it was like there was nothing left of her. That spark of life and energy, her whole personality, it was just gone. She was so broken and I..." The spectre's voice caught for a second.

"I'm not naive Trish, I've liberated plenty of slaves in my time, I know the kind of horrors they've been through. But this is the first time I found anyone from Mindoir, it just... It brought it home, you know? That could have been me."

"But it wasn't." Trish tried to reassure.

"I know, but it could've been... You know, Talitha didn't believe I was there? I couldn't be because I wasn't broken. How do you respond to something like that? How do you admit to someone that while they were watching their parents melt trying to protect them, you were hiding like a damn coward!?"

"Nikki... You were sixteen, there was nothing you could have done. It might not have been brave but it was smart. If you'd have fought you would be dead or enslaved and I for one am glad you're alive. I suspect a lot of the people you've helped over the years are glad too."

"Yeah I suppose so..."

While she wanted to be beside her marine to comfort and support her, the fact remained that she wasn't. So Trish did the next best thing, she glared.

"Alright, alright." Shepard amended. "I know so!"

"Better." Trish rewarded, but before she could say anything else her girlfriend interrupted.

"I've got to go. Your uncle's on the other line." There was no need to query which uncle. "Probably going to give me a bollocking over that interview."

"Hey, Uncle Steve has a sense of humour you know. I reckon he probably would've enjoyed it."

"Unfortunately whether or not Uncle Steve enjoyed it is irrelevant. Admiral Hackett will still have to give me a bollocking."

"Alright, I'll let you go. But Nikki? Call me back later... I'm not done cheering you back up."

The soldier gifted her a smile and a mock salute before terminating the call, taking a grand total of three seconds to school her features and hide her emotions behind a mask of professionalism before accepting the other call.

"Admiral, what can I do for you Sir?"

...

Author's note: I have no idea how the three seashells work, it's a Demolition Man reference and I just figured some species are likely to do things differently to humans. As for the Westerlund News theme song that's a continuation of a throwaway line in chapter 41.