"B-But sir, my interpretation suggests that the-" I stuttered.
"We have the reports, Miss Shaik," Keplar sighed, thumb flicking through the datapad. "Geologists have scoured this area for decades, from various species. Yet none have seen any evidence for this massive stockwork in your report. Is this another of your wild speculations?" My mouth dried, nerves rattling to stay strong. How my knees hadn't given out on me or said something stupid...
"I understand I have had a few misses," I said. The answering snort rattled me. "B-But my track record holds m-more successful hits than fails. T-The Normandy equipped sensors are f-far more accurate sensors tha-"
"Those sensors are designed for combat, not geophysical scanning," he crossed his arms. My eyes scanned the other geologists in the room, pleading with my eyes. The fact they were on Earth and tens of thousands of light years away from me brought no comfort. All were silent, casting careful glances to the geologist speaking. "Shaik, you excelled during the examination several days ago. Which is why I am struggling to understand how your own investigations can be so different to what every remote sensing satellite has said," Keplar held his hands up. "Why?"
My breathing slowed, forcing my body to relax, to release my tense muscles. My stomach only knotted harder. A professional behaviour would save me, but only if my nerve held and Keplar caved. That didn't seem likely, but I had little else to go on. Flourish the vocabulary, show my theory backed my interpretations.
"This formation I have found follows the Cyprus-type mineralisation model, sir. I see no evidence for the Kuroko style you and several other teams have theorised through the STRAT satellites. My stockwork, while close in terms of locality, is far older than the typical Kuroko-styles found already. On top of which, (Uranium/Thorium)/Helium dating showing a tight cluster around 200Ma and around 340Ma on my age graphs. Thus I suggested that the Cyprus-style formation occurred in two pulses, matching the tectonic evidence provided by Dr T'Stala in 214-"
"Your report is here, Miss Shaik, I know of you 'theories'," the man growled. "We have scoured that location and found only rhyolit-"
"The rhyolitic dome is located on the outer rims of the valley. If you follow the stratigraphy down, little deformation has occurred. Everything below 300m is mafic, not felsic. I-I mean, you published my report to the Geology journal Whitepapers as early evidence for this. Although… you… did not use my name, it is still-" I said in a futile.
"I beg your pardon?" he snapped. My body trembled. "Just what are you accusing me of?"
"W-Well, I read the white paper, i-it was my Trebin report word for word, I-I have a timestamped copy on the Normandy as a backup. A-And the whitepaper said you d-discovered it e-even though you h-have not visited T-Trebin-" I stuttered. Keplar's eyes narrowed.
"Are you accusing me of plagiarising your dubious report, Shaik?" he asked. "I assure you, I have visited Trebin several times, even before your birth," My weight shuffled in the chair.
"Y-You have? O-Oh, t-then why a-are they not on t-the Alliance f-fieldwork databases. I-I looked but I c-couldn't find any of them…" I said. Keplar popped his jaw.
"I did so as an independent geoscientist," he snarled. My body now trembled.
B-but…I thought you d-didn't like freelance-" I whimpered.
"Goddam it, Shaik, what does this have to do with your bloody reports?!" he snapped, shoving his chair back as he thundered to his feet. My body recoiled, hands clutching the seat, wide eyed and nausea creeping through me. "We have reached a unanimous decision that your reports are wild. Perhaps when your position is finalised, then we can discuss the matter in more depth, if you are so concerned with scientific discussions I wrote 3 years ago. Until then, I suggest you sort your attitude out, young lady. Insubordination will not tolerated in the navy," Keplar turned to the geologists around him, many setting their jaws and facing the cameras. "Are we finished here, Miss Shaik?" My eyes shut as a sighed sounded.
"Yes, sir," I said.
"Good. I will expect a more... realistic report soon," he finished as the video cut, leaving me in silence.
In a few days' time, Arnold Keplar would use my Casbin data and publish it as his findings. The man appeared to detest fieldwork and did everything in his power to avoid it. Shaken hands piled the maps away in a neat pile, fussing with them just to make me feel better. New maps covered my desk, eyes staring at them. When Keplar's report first passed over my desk, my report with his name on it, my heart broke. I emailed enquiring about it, but never received an answer. Keplar did this with other geologists, judging by the straight faced people on that room, the anguish in their eyes. What did Keplar have over their heads to keep them so passive?
"Ah well, you win some, you lose some," A voice said behind me. I jolted awake, spinning in the chair to face Shepard, leaning against the door.
"S-Shepard! C-Commander, h-hello," I said, jumping to shaken legs. Shepard clucked his tongue.
"Looks like you need more force with your arguments. Come on, girl, it's not that hard!" Shepard groaned. My gaze diverted, looking down to my hands, cold flutters racing through my body. "If it cheers you up, you could try more combat training with Ashley! Nothing like getting your ass handed to you to cheer you up!"
"I-I'd rather not…" I muttered.
"Yeah, see, here's the problem," he pointed at me with his hand. My eyes snapped up. "You're too damn quiet and meek! Go punch that ass in the face, he can't do shit!"
"I-I'd rather avoid him, i-if I can," I said. Shepard groaned louder, hands on his hips. My body tensed. He sighed.
"So, how's Liara settling in?" he asked. With dry lips, my tongue worked hard to keep them moist.
"Well, I think. S-She's smart…" I said, shrugging to cover for my lack of words. She was more than smart, the woman was more courageous than I. On the ship 3 days and she had already made friends with just about everyone. To have her confidence and courage, even for a day…
"Good to know! Last thing I need is a punch up in here… she'd kick your ass," he laughed. I hmmed in answer. Shepard stared at me, blinking once before he ran his tongue over his teeth. "Just don't forget that we've got Skyllian Five later, real money this time!" Wait, real money?
"I-I can't play poker…" I said.
"'Course you can! A few more games and you might, just might, be able to beat Simon!" he smirked. My gaze dropped. The only person on this ship who sucked harder at poker than me was Serviceman Simon Prescott. My hands fidgeted. "You'll be fine, you need to get out more anyway! You don't want to whole crew to think you're locking yourself up in here all day, hmm?" The thought didn't disturb me, the quiet kept me sane, a handful of people realised how skittish I was around people and respected that. Most just gave me weird looks when they saw me outside the lab for whatever reason. Others, such as Garrus, remained determined to break that barrier down.
"I... yes, sir," I conceded. Shepard nodded, gaze hardening, as he studied me.
"Good. Then I shall not keep you from your work. Dismissed, Shaik," That was a subtle hint for a salute. My hand snapped up, back tense. Shepard spun on his heel and escaped the lab. My lungs heaved a sigh.
Liara T'Soni's entrance into the lab distracted me. The asari wore an outfit similar to Dr Chakwas and I, the tight fitting lab suit had sashes of olive green rather than charcoal. Her purplish lips turned upwards as she walked in, her blue eyes bright. At the top of her forehead, the skin mottled with light blue spots that followed the hair tentacles, but didn't go far along them. A small band of dark freckles dotted her cheeks. After working with Liara over the past few days, she was a quiet, intelligent and friendly person. She smiled as she paused by the door.
"Coming to join us in the mess hall?" she asked. My eyes dragged my attention to the maps on the table, hands clenching each other until the knuckles turned white. A hard lump sank to my stomach as my knees trembled.
"D-Did Shepard send you?" I asked. Liara tilted her head to the side.
"No, Kaiden said you would join us though," she answered. My hands fumbled together.
"I… I-I guess so," I muttered, forcing my stiff body to rise. Liara smiled.
"Don't worry, it's just for a few games. The Commander is keen," she said as we left the lab.
"That's… one way to describe it," I rubbed my arm as we entered the mess hall. The room was bulging with people. A game was already underway at the table. Wrex, Garrus, Kaiden, Ashley, Tali and Shepard mocked each other, trying to bluff their way through the game. Kaiden chose indifference, Shepard wore his usual cocky demeanour and Ashley played to win. The other three varied depending on the situation. Wrex spotted me through the crowd.
"And the pyjak arrives," he chortled. Besides Liara, my knees quaked. Shepard spun, face lighting up with a grin.
"Time for some easy money," Ashley laughed. My gaze turned to Liara, begging her to save me from this. Rather, she dragged me through the crowd to the table, settling down herself. I thumped down on the chair, hugging myself between Liara and Kaiden. My heart rattled my rib cage. Shepard shuffled the cards, throwing them out. My hand scrubbed my face, resigning myself to my fate. The game began.
"Are you in, or out, Dell?" Garrus asked, leaning back on his chair.
Cards in hand, it was time to burn money. Where these good cards or bad cards? A glance around the table proved people grinned or laughed. Garrus had that smug look on his face that drove me insane, Wrex leaned back, looking calm but smirking. Shepard rested his chin on his hands, already throwing chips in. Tali was impossible to read with that helmet on. Ash and Kaiden seemed no different to normal. The rest of the crew watched with interest. A single coin joined the pile, holding back a sigh. Money would burn like a forest fire if care wasn't taken. We turned the cards. From Garrus' cheer, he had won. My body shrank in the chair as the cheers and boos rattled the air, drowning out thought processes. Garrus dragged the small mountain of chips over, Shepard scowling at the pile. Garrus clicked his mandibles.
"And the champion reins," Garrus grinned. "I'm surprised Wrex, I thought you would be better than this,"
"Is that a challenge, turian?" Wrex rumbled him. Garrus fluttered his brow-plate, mandibles flared and a smirk on his face.
"At this rate, little Dell will kick your ass," Garrus said. That incited the krogan to slam him fist on the table. My heart slammed into my chest, scurrying back into the chair, away from the table as it moaned in complaint.
"Game on! Deal, Alenko!" he took a swig from a bottle by his hand, a spirit or a beer. It smelt rotten regardless, it burned my nose even from this distance. Garrus laughed. My gaze longed towards the medical bay door, for the peace and quiet. This game was torturous, it burned my money and caused people to judge me. The cards slid before me, heralding another round.
The night continued. Numerous attempts to escape failed; to go to the bathroom, to check something in my room or in the lab, to get a drink from the kitchen. Anything. My soul was worth less than staying here. My bottom lip had gone numb after biting so often to stop the tears swelling. On rare occasions, I got lucky and had a hand that was better than someone else's hand. These were few. 26 credits in and there was no end in sight. Shepard kept egging me on, pushing me to keep throwing money in. Ashley made it a game to mock my hand at every opportunity. Unlike me, everyone had the choice of folding, Shepard never let me. My voice locked whenever any attempt to speak against him occurred. As the night continued, Shepard's good mood drifted, now he sat with a frown on his face and an impatient click of his tongue. Shepard called time. It was bedtime for everyone apart from the night shift.
"Better luck next time, try to put more money in though, its good luck!" Ashley laughed as she patted my shoulder harder than necessary. My tense muscles ached from the impacts.
With my eyes on the table, listening to the noisy crowds cheer and laugh as they meandered away into ship. My feet shuffled towards the lab. With the medical bay empty, my breathing eased. The door parted for me, dropping on the chair. Doubled over, my eyes buried into my knees as the first swell of tears ruptured past my throat. The source of my fear remained a mystery, my blood sizzled as my mind tried to puzzle it out. There were no deep psychological trauma, school remained peaceful and no bullying beyond what everyone else got. I remembered those days, the days I could say hello to someone without stuttering but now? Was it the new world or was it stress or what? My parents, although pushy, demanding and high astronomical expectations, never asked for more than possible. Well, sometimes. There were people around me, Travis my boyfriend, my friends, there was no one missing. I… Was I this skittish before now? My hair flew as my head shook. I couldn't remember.
My hands dug inside a drawer, scanning the contents until a small white tub appeared. A clatter sounded as it yanked free. It popped it open, 2 white pills dropped onto my head. Usually 1 was more than enough, but after today, between Keplar, the poker… my body trembled, a chill attacked me like a swarm of wasps. The pills disappeared down my throat without water, although my dry mouth made it more difficult. My hand rubbed my eyes, rocking in the chair. Part of me longed to leave the Normandy. My lips chapped at the thought.
With reluctance, I heaved myself out of the lab, dragging my feet towards the bedrooms. The worst of the clamour will have died, leaving me with the quiet for myself. After slipping through the doors, the chatter around me masked me in the darkened room. The floor lighting lit my way as my hands grabbed my sleeping clothes and shuffled into the tiny bathroom. My nose winkled, coughing in the locker sized room as the lab uniform peeled off me. Sweat covered my damp skin. The clothes piled into a tiny hole in the wall, pulling the cover down as a quick shower temped me to help ease the tension in my shoulders. Also to ensure no one made any comments about my scent either.
Free from the tiny room, the shower only lasted for about 4 minutes, any longer and people complained. My bed beaconed me, protecting me from the hell. The duvet yanked over my head, eyes staring at the threads, waiting for the sleeping pills to take effect. Half an hour is a long time, you wouldn't think so. My omni-tool lit up the darkened nest, dimming the brightness so it was usable. My eyes studied the list of messages in my inbox for the hundredth time. Nothing caught my eye, so my attention turned to the extranet as the daily news filed past of the news from around the galaxy. Anything, anything at all to kill time.
At some point, colours surrounded me. Orange, red and murky green. A moan poured out, body limp as my mind struggled to push it aside, to dream of something happy, for once.
My eyes stared at the dark ceiling above me, eyes unblinking. My limbs were leaden as my mind mustered the energy to think. The dream surrendered me to the waking world. Sweat beaded my skin and my exhale of air was slow, measuring each atom. The strength required to raise an arm and rub my eye was astronomical. It was as I feared, the sleeping pills no longer pushed the dreams at bay. Rolling to my side, a weak whine escaping me as muscles twitched and ached. My eyes closed, but all that waited for me was those blasted colours. My rapid blinking tried to liven me up. It was unsuccessful.
The duvet recovered my head, forcing my body to move despite the weakened state. My omni-tool blinded me, even on the dimmest setting. A new message from Val had appeared, a rant several pages long about why the Turian Hierarchy was the worst thing in the galaxy. How every member of his Cabal team – which were biotic specialists in the turian army – had their head shoved up their arses. Tension eased my body from the distraction. Val despised the army, anyone could see that. Why he didn't just leave if it annoyed him that much? Was this a turian thing, a cultural tie that forced them to stay within the army? My head shook. Deal with cultural differences when my mind didn't feel like it had just sunk to the bottom on an ocean.
One line of his text perked me, if only for a time. Shore leave. Val couldn't wait for his, to get away from his team and the army for time. It was a chance to recharge and get your head together. That sounded blissful. Time away from Shepard and the ship, some time to get my head together. If we assumed no one kidnapped me again, what else could go wrong? Maybe my nerves were my brain telling me the effects of cabin fever afflicted me. I had not left this tiny ship for two weeks. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. My fingers tapped a quick message to Shepard, although I sent it at a more reasonable time than 3 in the morning with a little program, asking if it was possible to stretch my legs on some solid earth that didn't require a helmet to survive on. Even for a few hours. The light vanished as the omni-tool shut down, plunging myself back into darkness. My eyes closed, praying for a peaceful night. The colours rose from the abyss, a patient predator. Nothing could save me as the dream took hold.