It started all the way down in the med bay. Flushed against one
side of the ship, it serves as the home base, mobile surgery wing,
office, and treatment center run by one Karin Chakwas. In the words
of her ex-husband, 'A goddamn Helen Mirren beauty,' a woman
who could probably match a Krogan drink for drink, and also someone
who, while understanding that being a Spectre is a big deal, does not
make one immune to her pronunciations of health.
“You're taking time off. Immediately.”
“Make me.”
The doors to the medical bay open. The soldier stationed at them
summarily salutes, and is summarily ignored, as the CO and CMO walk
by him. Well, the CO walks by him and the CMO walks after her.
“Commander,” Chakwas says, “I don't need to remind you that
you've just taken three rounds to the chest, which would have
killed you if your life support systems didn't come online.”
“And yet here I am, alive, with minimal scarring!”
“You were clinically dead for ninety seconds!” She grabs
Shepard's shoulder, turning her around. “God help me,
Commander, if you fight me on this I will have you sedated, put in a
straight jacket, placed under armed guard and locked in your
quarters until the Kilimanjaro's ready to launch.”
Jane folds her arms, her lips a straight line.
“And I'm going to back her up on that.”
She turns, leveling her gaze on Kaidan as he walks over.
“Commander, the Doctor's right,” Kaidan explains, “We're not
relieving you of command, and we're not mutinying, but you're
stressing out and we're concerned.”
“Kaidan-”
“You got shot three times,” Kaidan interrupts, “You got up,
you started pulling biotics the likes of which I've seen in superhero
vids, and you tell us you're fine. But that's not fine,
that's you getting shot three times in the chest.”
In the mind of Kaidan Alenko, such a pronunciation should
instantly get the attention, respect, and agreement of his commanding
officer. In the deeper part of the mind of Kaidan Alenko, which does
not dwell on such things as military regulations, the chain of
command, and Alliance protocols, it should also get him tongue.
“We're not relieving you of command,” Chakwas continues, walking
towards the stairs to the top level as Kaidan starts and walks after
them, “We're asking you to take eighteen hours of shore leave.
Take time off. Pressly- Charles- has the Normandy in hand.”
“Saren-”
“Is being hunted down, we don't have a ship, and if we want to not
have the Captain of the ship we're guests on intervene, I suggest you
take my recommendation.”
Kaidan clears his throat. Chakwas turns, glaring at him.
“Doctor, please tell me your threat was not just, 'I'm going to
tell your mother on you'.”
If looks could kill, Karin Chakwas would have cost Jane a
Staff Lieutenant.
A sigh, and Jane shrugs, nodding as she walks past the tilting map,
past a smugly smirking Pressly, and towards the airlock.
“Fine,” she says, “I'll take some leave.”
“She's going to go down to a firing range and shoot things for
eighteen hours,” Kaidan observes, “We need to assign someone to
make sure she relaxes. An escort, if you will.”
The bulkhead slides open. Ash watches as the CO, the LT, and the
CMO walk out, still arguing, still debating. Cocking her head
slightly, she turns to the quarian and finds him staring. At the CO.
“What.”
Kal'Ossen shrugs.
“I can't look?” he asks.
“But...” she scratches her head, “You're quarian. Right?”
“Have you ever seen a quarian woman naked?” Ash blinks,
shakes her head. “Me neither.”
Turning back to his datapad, the quarian continues muttering supply
numbers to himself. Ash perks her ear. Something about Skipper
needing time off. Needing to go out. Needing someone to escort her,
and now LT, all six feet of beef that he is, furiously denying that
he suggested himself.
Cute. Even with the sideburns.
“I tell you, if I'm anything to go by, we probably all look like
grey wrinkled sausages,” Ossen continues, “Why shouldn't I stare
at the humans? Hips aren't as big, but the only other dextro-amino
acid females are turians, and I think they're like those earth
animals, the hyenas. You know? The ones with the-”
“Hold that thought,” Ash says, “Hey! Skipper!”
The bickering stops, and the CO walks over. Ossen blinks, turns to
Ash, and then turns to Shepard as she walks over, clicking off the
PDA and saluting. And hitting himself in the helmet with the PDA.
“Our new supply guy for the quarians,” Ash says, “Kal'Ossen,
this is Commander Shepard.”
“Ma'am,” the quarian says, “Sorry. Miss. Misses? Not sure.
You're obviously not old enough for 'Ma'am,' ma'am. Miss. Shepard.” He coughs. "Commander."
Jane cocks an eyebrow. Ash nods. Kaidan stares, mouths a question,
and stops before he can ask it. Mainly due to Chakwas interrupting.
“Ah, yes,” she says, “Good idea, Williams. I'm sure there are
plenty of places in the Presidium that serve both Levo and Dextro
food. And it would be good for her to not be surrounded by the same
people.”
“You're serious,” Jane says, glancing at the doctor.
“Deadly serious.”
Ossen glances at the doctor, then turns his gaze back to Jane.
“Uh...okay. Miss. Uh, Shepard.” He coughs. “Commander.
Exactly what...”
Ash clamps her hand down on Ossen's shoulder. She smiles, all
teeth.
“Here's the thing. Our CO needs some shore leave. We want to
make sure she doesn't do anything stupid or violent. What're you
doing, tonight?”
Ossen blinks. Stares at Jane. Keeps his eyes on her face.
“Movie.”
“Good. You're taking her. Skipper, you've got a date.”
Jane shrugs.
“Fine,” she says, “I'm checking in with Udina and Anderson.
They'll give you the presidium apartment address. Pick me up in
ninety.”
Jane turns, muttering, and walks off to the elevator. Blinking,
trying to avoid obviously looking at the retreating officer's legs,
he settles to gazing at the stone faced human male soldier. Who he
hopes isn't going to make an example out of him.
“No funny stuff,” Kaidan warns.
Ossen shrugs.
“Don't worry about me,” he says, “I have no desire to piss off
the senior staff of an Alliance ship. Sides which, look at me. I'm
quarian. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've seen my
own genitals, much less a human's?”
Chakwas purses her lips. Kaidan stares. Ash snickers, and slaps
Ossen on the back.
“He's perfect.”
side of the ship, it serves as the home base, mobile surgery wing,
office, and treatment center run by one Karin Chakwas. In the words
of her ex-husband, 'A goddamn Helen Mirren beauty,' a woman
who could probably match a Krogan drink for drink, and also someone
who, while understanding that being a Spectre is a big deal, does not
make one immune to her pronunciations of health.
“You're taking time off. Immediately.”
“Make me.”
The doors to the medical bay open. The soldier stationed at them
summarily salutes, and is summarily ignored, as the CO and CMO walk
by him. Well, the CO walks by him and the CMO walks after her.
“Commander,” Chakwas says, “I don't need to remind you that
you've just taken three rounds to the chest, which would have
killed you if your life support systems didn't come online.”
“And yet here I am, alive, with minimal scarring!”
“You were clinically dead for ninety seconds!” She grabs
Shepard's shoulder, turning her around. “God help me,
Commander, if you fight me on this I will have you sedated, put in a
straight jacket, placed under armed guard and locked in your
quarters until the Kilimanjaro's ready to launch.”
Jane folds her arms, her lips a straight line.
“And I'm going to back her up on that.”
She turns, leveling her gaze on Kaidan as he walks over.
“Commander, the Doctor's right,” Kaidan explains, “We're not
relieving you of command, and we're not mutinying, but you're
stressing out and we're concerned.”
“Kaidan-”
“You got shot three times,” Kaidan interrupts, “You got up,
you started pulling biotics the likes of which I've seen in superhero
vids, and you tell us you're fine. But that's not fine,
that's you getting shot three times in the chest.”
In the mind of Kaidan Alenko, such a pronunciation should
instantly get the attention, respect, and agreement of his commanding
officer. In the deeper part of the mind of Kaidan Alenko, which does
not dwell on such things as military regulations, the chain of
command, and Alliance protocols, it should also get him tongue.
“We're not relieving you of command,” Chakwas continues, walking
towards the stairs to the top level as Kaidan starts and walks after
them, “We're asking you to take eighteen hours of shore leave.
Take time off. Pressly- Charles- has the Normandy in hand.”
“Saren-”
“Is being hunted down, we don't have a ship, and if we want to not
have the Captain of the ship we're guests on intervene, I suggest you
take my recommendation.”
Kaidan clears his throat. Chakwas turns, glaring at him.
“Doctor, please tell me your threat was not just, 'I'm going to
tell your mother on you'.”
If looks could kill, Karin Chakwas would have cost Jane a
Staff Lieutenant.
A sigh, and Jane shrugs, nodding as she walks past the tilting map,
past a smugly smirking Pressly, and towards the airlock.
“Fine,” she says, “I'll take some leave.”
“She's going to go down to a firing range and shoot things for
eighteen hours,” Kaidan observes, “We need to assign someone to
make sure she relaxes. An escort, if you will.”
The bulkhead slides open. Ash watches as the CO, the LT, and the
CMO walk out, still arguing, still debating. Cocking her head
slightly, she turns to the quarian and finds him staring. At the CO.
“What.”
Kal'Ossen shrugs.
“I can't look?” he asks.
“But...” she scratches her head, “You're quarian. Right?”
“Have you ever seen a quarian woman naked?” Ash blinks,
shakes her head. “Me neither.”
Turning back to his datapad, the quarian continues muttering supply
numbers to himself. Ash perks her ear. Something about Skipper
needing time off. Needing to go out. Needing someone to escort her,
and now LT, all six feet of beef that he is, furiously denying that
he suggested himself.
Cute. Even with the sideburns.
“I tell you, if I'm anything to go by, we probably all look like
grey wrinkled sausages,” Ossen continues, “Why shouldn't I stare
at the humans? Hips aren't as big, but the only other dextro-amino
acid females are turians, and I think they're like those earth
animals, the hyenas. You know? The ones with the-”
“Hold that thought,” Ash says, “Hey! Skipper!”
The bickering stops, and the CO walks over. Ossen blinks, turns to
Ash, and then turns to Shepard as she walks over, clicking off the
PDA and saluting. And hitting himself in the helmet with the PDA.
“Our new supply guy for the quarians,” Ash says, “Kal'Ossen,
this is Commander Shepard.”
“Ma'am,” the quarian says, “Sorry. Miss. Misses? Not sure.
You're obviously not old enough for 'Ma'am,' ma'am. Miss. Shepard.” He coughs. "Commander."
Jane cocks an eyebrow. Ash nods. Kaidan stares, mouths a question,
and stops before he can ask it. Mainly due to Chakwas interrupting.
“Ah, yes,” she says, “Good idea, Williams. I'm sure there are
plenty of places in the Presidium that serve both Levo and Dextro
food. And it would be good for her to not be surrounded by the same
people.”
“You're serious,” Jane says, glancing at the doctor.
“Deadly serious.”
Ossen glances at the doctor, then turns his gaze back to Jane.
“Uh...okay. Miss. Uh, Shepard.” He coughs. “Commander.
Exactly what...”
Ash clamps her hand down on Ossen's shoulder. She smiles, all
teeth.
“Here's the thing. Our CO needs some shore leave. We want to
make sure she doesn't do anything stupid or violent. What're you
doing, tonight?”
Ossen blinks. Stares at Jane. Keeps his eyes on her face.
“Movie.”
“Good. You're taking her. Skipper, you've got a date.”
Jane shrugs.
“Fine,” she says, “I'm checking in with Udina and Anderson.
They'll give you the presidium apartment address. Pick me up in
ninety.”
Jane turns, muttering, and walks off to the elevator. Blinking,
trying to avoid obviously looking at the retreating officer's legs,
he settles to gazing at the stone faced human male soldier. Who he
hopes isn't going to make an example out of him.
“No funny stuff,” Kaidan warns.
Ossen shrugs.
“Don't worry about me,” he says, “I have no desire to piss off
the senior staff of an Alliance ship. Sides which, look at me. I'm
quarian. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've seen my
own genitals, much less a human's?”
Chakwas purses her lips. Kaidan stares. Ash snickers, and slaps
Ossen on the back.
“He's perfect.”