It was cool aboard the vessel. You figure being in deep space, that would be the case. He liked it that way. Sure, Tuchanka, the home of his forefathers was hot and dry, but he had first come to be, here, in this ship. This was home. And not nearly as disappointing as the ruined cities and barren lands of that great dustball. Here, on a nearly daily basis, his skill was tested, he grew stronger every day, learned more, felt more. He was proud to be the pure krogan that he was bred to be, proud of his own abilities and to be both clan Urdnot as well as crew to the most formidable Battlemaster in krogan history.

He disliked not doing something, sitting still was not in his nature, his blood called for battle, a constant stream of heightened adrenaline coursed through his veins. Many great battles he had been part of in the brief time since his birth, laying waste to the enemies of his commander. Glorious encounters. He respected his Battlemaster, he would follow this man to hell, had already, and back. Grunt understood some of the layers that made Shepard who he was, had seen him be utterly ruthless in battle, as it should be. But unlike most krogan, he was a diplomat outside of the arena, he loved his crew with great fervor, protected them as best he could. Lived by his words. The man garnered respect and devotion from those who knew him, feared by those who opposed him.

Nothing Shepard did was without the weighing of options, he tried to do the best he could, save as many lives as possible. He refused to take a life for the sake of enjoyment, no bloodlust in him. Grunt had learned much from him, granted, he actually enjoyed killing. He loved to pit his strength against strong enemies, took great pride in coming out on top, the blood of his opponent spilled across the ground. Oh yes, he did love that, but he had learned to temper it from his Battlemaster, knew when to let his lust rage on the battlefield and contain it when not. The thought of their last great victory over the Collector's a week ago brought a grin to his face, a low chuckle letting loose from his chest. "Heh Heh Heh."

He had been standing here now for over six minutes, waiting to speak with Commander Shepard, to personally debrief him on the catastrophic mission that ended with the deaths of over three hundred thousand Batarian lives. As Admiral of the Alliance Fleet, Steven Hackett was unaccustomed to being made to wait. Now he had no choice, barring his path to the starboard observation port where he had been informed by a yeoman Chambers, was the Commander's location, a towering Krogan stood. He had announced himself upon arrival, and had been promptly informed 'Shepard's busy, you can wait.'

After that brief statement, he had seemingly been forgotten. Now the behemoth was grinning wickedly and darkly chuckling. It was an unsettling sight. Breathing out slowly, his patience very near it's end, "Commander Shepard was informed of my arrival. I need to speak with him. Either let him know I'm waiting here, or move aside so I can enter."

The chuckling ceased and the grin slowly faded as the krogan narrowed his eyes and gazed down at the him. Well, he wasn't being ignored now.

"If Shepard knows you're here and hasn't come to get you, then keep waiting. Move closer and I'll gladly beat you to death with your choice of appendage." The grin was back.

Grunt almost hoped this little man would take that single step, ripping him apart would give him something to do. For a few seconds at least. Grunt didn't know who this officer was, didn't really care. Had Shepard been informed he was here? Probably. Did that make any difference? Nope. Three hours ago the Normandy has rescued the Commander from that ballistic asteroid, moments before it collided with a mass relay and destroyed an entire solar system. Shepard had watched the holo-projection as each planet was wiped out, his face had grown more somber with the passing of each hunk of rock. Grunt could still see the look on his Battlemaster's face when the colony disappeared, it wasn't something he had been imprinted to recognize, heartbreak.

Shepard had simply turned around, walked to to the elevator, took it to the crew deck and entered the room Grunt now stood guard over. He hadn't been asked to do it, but he felt it was his duty to protect his leader right now, to keep others away from him while he gathered his thoughts. The grin he had had while envisioning the dismemberment of this aged soldier had slipped from his face, just thinking about what it must feel like for his human. As Krogan, Grunt understood war and death, the sacrifice of warriors in a strategy to win the conflict. But these were not soldiers, these were colonists, this was not a battle, it had been the utter destruction of a peaceful, For Batarians, group of innocents. Had the decision been his to make, Grunt likely would have shrugged it off. The death of a few hundred thousand for more time to prepare against the deaths of multiple systems? Small price. Shepard had weighed the cost as well and acted on it, that didn't mean he wasn't punishing himself. He was still an enigma, a creature of great determination tempered by compassion. There was another word he'd had to look up, Krogan didn't use it. In anyone else, Grunt would have called it a weakness.

He couldn't see their faces, hadn't met any of them before he condemned every last one to death, but he felt their ghosts. How long did they have to be afraid? He'd made himself watch the spreading pulse from the command center, each planet disintegrating until the entire system was gone. It must have been quick, he wasn't a religious man, but he prayed that their end was swift. He'd hidden himself away, here in the observation room, sitting, watching as the stars traced by.

Knowing he had done the right thing was a small kindness. Had the relay not been destroyed, they would still have died. The reapers would have fell on their colony first, mutated them into some horrible creations and turned them loose on a wholly unprepared galaxy. How much time had their lives bought? How far were the reapers, how long would it take them to reach these systems using just FTL drives? No answers. Dammit. Sighing to himself, placing his head in his hands, enough of this, the galaxy still didn't know what was coming for them. More to do, always more, never enough, not yet.

Samuel Shepard stood up, shook out his shoulders and stretched his arms above his head. He still had a mission. Bringing his arms to his sides, checking the time on his omni as he did so. Well, he'd certainly been in here longer than he thought. They should have reached the meeting point with Admiral Hackett's fleet thirty minutes ago. He'd spent enough time with his demons, time to let them be and get this over with.

The door hissed as it slid open on his approach. Shepard stopped in mid-stride as he was facing a second wall, this one in the shape of a heavily armored krogan's back. "Grunt?"

The large monolith turned to the side, his right eye on Shepard, while his left kept the intruding officer in sight. "Shepard."

With Grunt's shifting position, Shepard could see Admiral Hackett peering expectantly at him. "Good of you to join us, Commander. Your subordinate has been keeping me waiting." Hackett sounded annoyed, not a normal tone for him, stern, yes, this? Not so much. Shepard smiled to himself, Grunt must have been really turning on the charm.

"Admiral Hackett, welcome aboard the Normandy. I apologize for the delay."

Grunt's deep rumbling, "Admiral. Heh. So that's who he is." Turning his head to focus his narrowed gaze solely on the newly discovered Admiral, "Should I let him through yet?"

"Yes, thank you, Grunt." Shepard had no idea what Grunt was doing standing guard, but took it as the compliment it likely was. Stepping back into the observation lounge, he gestured to Hackett, "Admiral? Please, come in."

With his Battlemaster seemingly back in sorts, Grunt decided it was long past time to see what the cook had going. The smells coming from the galley had him salivating in anticipation.

They moved to stand in front of the viewport, neither man interested in sitting for what was going to likely be an uncomfortable discussion. The Admiral had his hands behind his back, standing at ease, turned slightly so as not to be facing the Commander full on, but also taking in the view of space. Shepard, too, stood easily, facing the vast expanse. Shepard, waiting for the Hackett to begin. He was not made to wait long.

"An interesting crew you have aboard, Commander. Never thought I would see Cerberus enlisting non-humans." Turning his gaze away from the stars to focus on Shepard. "What I want to really know is just what the hell happened? You were supposed to rescue the doctor, next thing I know, I have reports of an exploding mass relay and an entire star system wiped out."

"After I rescued the doctor, I returned with her to her asteroid facility, where she and her staff had been studying reaper tech. They'd received visions from the artifact and confirmed that reapers were going to arrive at the relay."

"Visions?" The Admiral's voice was incredulous.

"Similar to mine with the Prothean Beacon on Eilos."

"I see. Continue."

"Sir. I didn't have much time. Your friend was indoctrinated, as were her staff. I tried sending out a warning to the colony, my transmission was jammed. I was captured, by the time I regained consciousness and escaped, I had only minutes before the reapers would arrive. I did the only thing I could, sir, I engaged the drive cores and set a collision course."

The Admiral stood there, staring at Shepard, letting the information process. Reapers, but no proof, the artifact destroyed with the asteroid. Damn it Shepard. "Commander, I can't say whether I believe the reapers are real, I do believe you think so. That's enough for me to give you the benefit of the doubt. The loss of my friend is painful, but if what you say is true, she was dead long before you arrived. Our real problem is that we have an entire colony gone, the Batarians are going to be out for blood."

"That's not news, Admiral, I'm aware of the fallout."

"Then you are also aware of what is expected of you." Hackett turned to fully face the Commander. "As much as it pains me, you are to report to Earth immediately for trial."

Shepard should have seen this coming, he knew that there could be interstellar ramifications from the Batarians, but for the Alliance to be so willing to throw him to the wolves? Without the evidence of any actual reaper incursion, or even their existence in the first place, he would have no chance of winning a trial. He would be marked a mass murderer, locked away, while the reapers continued to get closer. He was already seen as a turncoat by most of the military, he was aware of that, his now-known connection to Cerberus a slap in the faces of his home world's council. Hell, even Ashley Williams, a comrade and friend had called him on it, turned her back on him after the incident on Horizon. And now a court martial.

"Admiral, does anyone care at all about the reapers? I sent you the reports and data packages from our fight aboard the Collector Base, the genetic proof of the Reapers and what happened to the Protheans."

"Son, it's not enough. I trust you, Anderson trusts you and we'll do everything we can to see you given fair treatment. You're a fine soldier, Commander, and right now, you're needed for this."

Shepard looked from the face of someone who called himself his friend, to space. He understood the reasoning. It made perfect sense from a diplomatic point of view. Offer him up as a show of peace to the Batarians. He got it. He knew it must be hard for the Admiral to order him to do it, but it was the man's duty to do so, as ordered by his superiors. And now his own duty was to do as he too was ordered. To leave the galaxy unprepared. He was being forced to weigh the enormity of the situation with the possible military reprisal of a pissed off Batarian Hegemony. And the only answer he had was the same that led to the death of that colony.

Returning his attention to Hackett, crossing his arms over his chest, "Admiral, I'm sorry, but that's an order I can't follow."

The Admiral's visage darkened, he trusted Shepard, but that didn't mean he looked favorably on disobeying orders. The skin around his eyes tightened, "Commander, you know the risks of the situation, you know whats at stake."

"Yes, sir, I do. I know the true risks involved, no one from the Alliance council seems to. Sir, I respect you, always have, but I cannot turn myself in for military tribunal. Has it crossed your mind that their won't be any reprisal? Not to make light of the tragedy, hell, it's not something I'll ever forget, but there is no evidence of what happened. There's nothing to say who or even what, destroyed that relay."

"I don't like telling you this anymore than you enjoy hearing it, but dammit Shepard, you killed over three-hundred thousand innocent people. I agree that the situation is questionable, but we have our duty and it cannot be ignored Commander. You are an officer of the Alliance Military and you will follow your orders. You are to come with me and be placed under arrest pending your hearing."

Letting his arms fall to his sides, Shepard's eyes became hard, any trace of familiarity lost. "The truth Admiral? The truth is that no one has taken the warnings I've given, they've ignored the proof I and others have presented. The truth is that we are wholly unprepared. Yes, I'm responsible for the deaths of three hundred and thirty four thousand lives, that's something I have to live with, but if the reapers arrive when we aren't ready, those numbers will be in the trillions. I will not let that happen. EDI?"

"Yes, Shepard?" The female voice, quite pleasant, took the Admiral by slight surprise. The response had not come from the Commander's omni, nor had he spoken into it to communicate.

"Would you inform Grunt his presence is requested please?"

"As you wish, Commander."

"Thank you EDI." His gaze had never left the Admiral, his polite words with his crew at odds with the steel in his voice. "I'm sorry it's come to this Admiral, but as the Earth Alliance is a recognized entity of the Galactic Council, you do not have the authority to detain or deter a Spectre."

Grunt was enjoying his meal, there was plenty of spiced meat and a red, herb sauce and more meat. The bread was unnecessary, but filling. A Meatball Sandwich the humans called it. He had devoured two already and started in on his third when EDI's voice came through his omni-tool, "Grunt, the Commander has requested your presence in the starboard observation lounge."

Grunt eyed his sandwich mournfully. With a great sigh, he dropped the remaining portion onto his plate as he stood, "On my way." Grumbling to himself as he ambled towards the corridor leading to his destination, "Better be a damned good reason to interrupt."

The door opened at his arrival, Stepping inside, Grunt could see his Battlemaster eyeing down the Admiral. "Shepard."

"Grunt, please escort the Admiral off my ship." Grunt grinned, polite words, spoken with the underlying cadence of an assault rifle. Meeting must have gone real well.

Nodding to his commander, "Conscious?"

"Preferably."

"Aww, Shepard, you're no fun." Standing aside, gesturing to the Admiral, clearly upset by what seemed an unexpected dismissal, "Move."

Shepard watched as the door closed behind Grunt and the Admiral. With the air cushioned sealing of the portal, he sat down heavily onto one of the two dark blue couches. He stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his hands in his lap, tilting his head until it rested on the back of the seat, and found himself staring at the ceiling. He felt weighted down, partially because he had not yet stripped his armor in favor of his on-board clothing, mostly because he was now adrift. He'd all but resigned his commission, as the only human Spectre, the Alliance wouldn't want to lose public approval by forcing his retirement. If he happened to be released from the military shortly after such a catastrophic event, it would potentially raise questions best left unanswered. What he'd told the Admiral was true, there was no proof of his actions against the relay, the Batarian Hegemony could search as much as they liked, but there was nothing left to find. Only the higher-ups in the Alliance knew, and Shepard was willing to bet it would stay that way.

He'd cut ties with Cerberus and wouldn't miss working with them. Yes, they had been the only ones willing to do something about the human colony abductions, but he knew that had the Collector's been attacking other races, they'd not have spent a single credit to help. The Reapers were bigger than a single race, they had their eyes on every sentient being in the galaxy. Cerberus was too narrow minded, too xenophobic, to see the big picture. The only problem is that right now, Cerberus are the only ones preparing for the reapers. That needs to change, the question is, how?

How to get the evidence required to make each race drop their personal conflicts and join together against a force so advanced it had wiped out an empire that spanned the known galaxy? If he tried speaking with the council, they'd call him a madman. They knew of Sovereign, but still believed it to be a single unique entity, not one of many. Hell, they still seemed to think it was some Geth warship more so than unknown technology. He would need proof. Something tangible that couldn't be dismissed. It couldn't be actual reaper tech, just being around even dormant reaper objects had a corrupting influence, far too dangerous. Everything was going to take time. How much of that do we have?

Shepard stood, moving towards the door. "EDI, I want a meeting in the conference room in fifteen minutes."