I wish I could write a really dignified author's note for the opening chapter of this story, but for some reason I can never bring myself to be restrained in any kind of preface. Writing the continuation of Shepard's story felt remarkably good, like slipping into a set of comfortable clothes after wearing a suit all day. It is amazing how different I felt writing this story than writing a story like "After." Don't get me wrong, I love "After" for what it is, but it cannot compare to how I feel about this story. At times, writing "After" gets too sweet, too sugary for me. I revel in the drama and angst of a story; the bittersweet is firmly in my comfort zone. And this story is full of bittersweet moments, just like the Mass Effect series. But unlike Bioware, I will honor the promise that I have made to you throughout these stories. While I love melodrama, my stories (in honor of the games) have always held an element of hope and optimism. Some authors do not make this promise and therefore reserve the right to delve into the darkest depths. That is a writer's decision (and is not wrong), but if the promise is ever made (through the writing and themes) that good will ultimately prevail over evil, that the hero will live, etc., then it is a crime (in my opinion) for the writer to break that promise. Even before I started "After" I made the promise to you (through my style and themes) that Shepard will be rewarded for her pain. This story, in general, deals a lot with promises and the importance of keeping them. So, remember, no matter how dark the story may get, there will always be hope.

If you are a newcomer to these stories, I normally say that it is not necessary to have read the past stories in order to understand this one (and I believe that remains true) but I would urge you to read the other two anyway. This story is part of a trilogy, and it can stand alone, but it stands even higher next to its predecessors. This story is (in my opinion) better than either before it because it builds upon those two. But all three are really part of the same story and I would not recommend starting somewhere half-way through.

One last announcement and then I'll let you get to the story. I was asked to do an interview about these stories, along with two other authors, for a radio show. Naturally, I was surprised to be offered this invitation, since there are no doubt better known authors than me. Still, it was flattering to be asked and I decided to accept. So, if you have always been curious what I sound like, feel free to listen; it happens May 3rd at 9pm EST (a link is posted in my profile and you should be able to listen to it after the fact as well). Hopefully, it will not be one of those instances where hearing my voice will shatter all the preconceived notions about me that you undoubtedly held dear to your heart. I will warn you ahead of time, however, that if you imagined that I am a man with a dashing British accent, then you will be sorely disappointed; I am deeply sorry.

See? I told you I couldn't write a dignified author's note.

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Prologue

"Are you sure that you do not want me to come with you?" Liara asked again, for what seemed like the hundredth time, as she broke the kiss.

Shepard's hands cupped the asari's face, their foreheads touching, and she could feel the heat off of Liara's flushed skin from the intensity of the kiss. Sighing, she said, "Of course I'm not sure, Liara. If I had my way, I'd still be back in bed with you in my arms." Her lips twitched up into a roguish grin. "And I'd make sure you were too busy to even think about leaving." That got a small chuckle out of Liara, and Shepard stroked the other woman's cheek with the pad of her thumb. For a second she just savored the look of Liara, happy and safe. Then, she turned her voice steely and said, "But the Reapers are coming, and I need humanity behind us. If letting the Alliance parade me around in chains means that they will listen to a word that I have to say, then that's the price I have to pay. Anderson says that he's convinced the defense council to talk to me. It's not much, but... it is something. But I don't know how long it will take to convince them, and as long as I'm in their custody, you won't be able to help me. It's killing me that I have to suffer this farce. I will feel better knowing that at least you are doing something, Liara. Gather information, find us allies, prepare."

Liara's arms were wrapped around Shepard's waist and she tightened her grip, drawing the commander into an embrace. She rested her head on Shepard's shoulder, taking one deep, steadying breath. "I know," she whispered. "I know. But knowing does not make it any easier. Anderson said that you will not be able to contact anyone. What if something happens to you? What if something happens and I am not there to..."

Rubbing Liara's back, Shepard answered, "Nothing will happen, Liara. I promised I would always come back to you, and I will. It will just be a little bit of time apart, that's all. And you have work to keep you busy; it will seem like no time at all. You'll see."

"I wish I could believe that," Liara murmured softly.

Me too, Shepard thought. Breaking the embrace, she tried to smother the doubts clawing away inside of her. If she didn't send Liara away now, she knew she would lose her resolve. They stood in the cargo bay by the shuttle that would drop Liara back off at the Shadow Broker's ship. A crewman was waiting patiently in the cockpit and so far had not objected to being kept waiting, but there were other matters to see to before Shepard handed herself over to the Alliance.

"You should get on the shuttle," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

Liara nodded and turned, reaching for the handle by the shuttle door and pulling herself up into the vehicle. She looked down at Shepard as if she wanted to jump right out again. When the commander held up her hand in one last farewell, Liara gripped her hand and pulled her towards the lip of the shuttle while crouching down so that they would be on level. She kissed Shepard fiercely, twisting her hands into the woman's black hair and undoing her tight bun. When she pulled apart again, rising to her feet, Shepard's hair fell down her shoulders in soft curls. She gaped in disbelief, but Liara just smiled.

Tossing the hair-tie back to the commander, she said, "I wanted to see your hair down one more time before I left." She stepped back as the shuttle door began to close.

Returning the smile, Shepard called out, "I love you sub specie aeternitatis, Dr. T'soni!"

"For eternity," Liara agreed, continuing to smile as the shuttle door closed completely.

Once the shuttle had left, Shepard stepped into the elevator and retied her hair on the ride up. Just as she was setting the bun into place, Miranda stepped into the elevator as it passed the third deck.

"Ah, Commander," she greeted. "I assume you've just finished seeing Dr. T'soni off. Is it still your intention to go to Omega and have everyone disembark there?"

"Yes. Is everyone prepared to leave?"

"I've made sure that all necessary arrangements have been made. All the Cerberus crewmen know to lay low from both the Alliance and Cerberus. The alien crewmembers have all made their various arrangements as well."

"Good. I'll ask Joker for an ETA when I get to the bridge."

Miranda was quiet for a few seconds before venturing, "Shepard, some of the crew has expressed concern over leaving the Normandy. They can't help but feel as if they are abandoning you."

Giving Miranda a sidelong glance, Shepard said, "Do you share these concerns?"

The ex-Cerberus operative averted her eyes. "We went on a suicide mission to the collector base with you. You helped all of us in some way and brought us back alive. None of us would hesitate to fight for you."

The elevator doors slid open and both women stepped out onto the CIC. Shepard laid a hand on Miranda's shoulder and gave an encouraging smile. "I understand, Miranda, and I appreciate the sentiment. But this is something I have to do alone, and having the crew taken prisoner by the Alliance won't help anyone. You've already helped me so much; I have the data you helped me compile about the collectors and the Reapers. If I can't convince them using that data, well then, they won't be convinced until the Reapers are knocking at our door. Having you locked up with me won't help that. Lay low, Miranda. Watch out for Oriana and gather resources to fight the Reapers if you can. Just stay safe."

Miranda's blue eyes searched the commander's face for a minute, as if looking for more answers. Then she stuck out her hand and said, "It's been an honor working with you, Commander."

Gripping her XO's hand, Shepard replied, "Likewise, Miranda. And thank you, for giving me a second chance."

At that, Miranda chuckled and said, "Shepard, you're the only hope any of us have for any more second chances."

After parting with Miranda, Shepard made her way to the bridge where Joker sat in his usual seat, EDI's glowing, blue orb his constant companion. Standing by his shoulder, she said, "Once the shuttle gets back, set a course for Omega. Can you give me an ETA?"

Joker's fingers danced over the keyboards of various control panels, and monitors flashed to life and vanished all in an instant. "It's a direct jump to Omega, so we're looking at an hour. I can give an announcement when we are fifteen minutes out."

Shepard hesitated for a moment, then said, "Joker, you don't have to hand yourself over with me. You can lay low like everyone else." She'd given the Cerberus crew and her other companions no choice about leaving. She would not reward their sacrifices and their trust with imprisonment. But Joker and Chakwas had been special cases. Both were former Alliance and if they wanted to offer themselves to Alliance justice... Shepard couldn't forbid them from doing the exact same thing she was. Still, she could try to dissuade them. "It's just me they want," she insisted.

"And the Normandy," Joker said. "They want the Normandy too. And this is my home. You and the Normandy are my home."

"Joker..."

He shook his head. "No, Shepard. It's true. I belong here. I'm meant to be sitting right here, flying you to that final battle and then pulling your ass out of the fire after. I'm not leaving the Normandy."

"You know they won't let you fly her to Earth. They'll ground you."

"I know, but I also know we'll take her back eventually. And when we do, I'll be ready."

~.~.~.~.~

On Omega, Shepard made sure to see every crew member off, shaking their hands and thanking them for their service. She watched them disperse, some heading for another docking bay and others melting into the crowds of Omega, and wondered if they would be safe from the Illusive Man. He would target Miranda and Jacob no doubt, but he might ignore the miscellaneous crewmembers who had simply followed orders and completed the mission. Then again, he wasn't above vengeance and dealing with loose ends. Either way, it was out of her hands now.

After the Cerberus crew came her squad, and she made sure to speak with each of them more personally. Many would take her warning to stay low to heart, some even disappearing off the map like Kasumi. They would return to their own lives and their own goals. Zaeed would charge back into mercenary work, Samara wandering back to asari space, Legion returning to the geth, Mordin to Sur'kesh, Jack causing trouble for someone, Grunt to join Wrex on Tuchunka, and Thane melting into the shadows. For them, the battle was over, and Shepard couldn't blame them. Without a commander to hold them all together, they had lives to attend to.

Yet, two of them were in the fight for the long run - the two who had never abandoned her. Tali and Garrus were the last to leave. Shepard hugged them and said, "You both have copies of the data we compiled?" Shepard had made sure that all three of them carried a copy of the same data to show to their respective governments. If any one of them could get people to listen, it would be a victory.

"Yes," Tali said. "I'll make the admirals listen, Shepard."

"And I'll shout so loudly that eventually someone will have to pay attention," Garrus added. "I'll do whatever it takes to convince the hierarchy. You just take care of yourself, Shepard."

"I will," she promised. "I don't know what our next move will be, but when it happens we'll hit the ground running."

"And then it's back into hell to stick it to the Reapers," Garrus chuckled.

"Commander," Joker's voice called over the radio urgently, "An Alliance vessel has just docked. Anderson is here."

"Got it," she said. Then to her friends, "Time's up. Let's hope this all goes as planned."

"We'll keep an eye on what's happening on Earth," Tali said. "If it looks like they aren't listening to you and you need us..."

"We'll be there," Garrus finished.

"Thanks," Shepard said, trying to give a confident smile. After hugging them both one more time, she watched her friends melt into the crowd and disappear. Standing out on the docking bay, Shepard waited stiffly for Anderson. She'd heard that he had given up the councilor position, a mistake she thought, but she was glad it was him coming to arrest her rather than someone else. She had decided to wear civilian attire: long, gray pants and a black shirt, simple but with an air of professionalism. Her goal was to be as nondescript as possible.

She waited, as still as a statue, arms behind her back in a parade rest, watching. She saw him emerge from the crowd, clad in his dress blues and tailed by six soldiers all in armor and with assault rifles ready. He stopped in front of her and the soldiers fanned out to flank her on either side, rifles pointed straight at her. Shepard pretended not to see them, choosing to stare at Anderson instead.

After a minute of tense silence, Anderson shook his head and smiled. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Shepard."

Visibly relaxing, Shepard replied, "I could say the same about you, Admiral."

"Anderson," he corrected. "Save that formal stuff for Hackett and the defense council." Nodding his head in the direction of the soldiers with him he said, "Sorry about the welcome party. Protocol." Then, gesturing to the solider standing to his right, he added, "This is Lieutenant James Vega."

As the soldier straightened and lowered his weapon, Shepard saw just how big the man was. A wide chest, thick shoulders and arms, he looked like a krogan in human form. He snapped to attention and saluted her. "It's an honor to meet you, Ma'am," he said.

She returned the salute without really thinking about it, the reflex drilled into her.

"James will be your personal bodyguard, Shepard," Anderson explained. "He's a good man and someone I think you will get along with."

"Do I really need a bodyguard?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Anderson shrugged. "It's as much for the Alliance's security as yours. Some of this I have to do by the book. I already got hell over insisting that you be allowed to stay aboard the Normandy." Then, looking past her at the ship he asked, "Is there anyone left aboard?"

"Only Joker and Dr. Chakwas," she answered evenly.

Anderson nodded. "Good. I knew you'd look out for your crew. That will make things much easier. Well, easier for me at least." Addressing the soldiers he said, "Secure the ship and the two other prisoners. But if you harm either of them I will have your heads. Now go." They all hustled past Shepard to the portside door and filed into the Normandy, except for Lt. Vega who remained by Anderson's side. "Lieutenant, I'm already sure that you'll find nothing, but go ahead and search Commander Shepard for any weapons."

Holstering his rifle, the big man approached the commander and performed a quick frisk, finding nothing just as Anderson had suspected. He seemed almost apologetic as he patted her down, and in return Shepard spared him a small smile so that he would know that she didn't take it personally.

Once a soldier reappeared to confirm that the ship was secure, Anderson led James and Shepard aboard and to the CIC. Joker and Chakwas stood with three soldiers guarding them, though the soldiers were trying hard to appear as none threatening as possible. Anderson greeted both Joker and Chakwas warmly before turning back to business.

"In accordance with Alliance protocol, I'm placing all three of you under arrest until we reach Earth where you'll be handed over to Alliance justice. I will keep you aboard the Normandy for the voyage, but I must confine you to one area of the ship with no outside contact. Any preferences?"

"The starboard side observation deck has no terminals, and a bar," Shepard pointed out.

Grinning, Anderson nodded and said, "The starboard side deck it is then. Lt. Vega, please escort them there."

James obeyed, leading (or rather walking along as Shepard led) the three prisoners down to the starboard observation deck. Once there, he took up a position by the door, though he did not seem as if he suspected they would try to escape. Joker eased himself down onto the nearest couch and Shepard picked a seat opposite from him. Dr. Chakwas headed straight to the bar and gathered four glasses, saying, "What will everyone be having?"

Smirking, Joker answered, "I didn't know you were a bartender and a doctor. Is that even safe?"

"I am a woman of many talents."

Shepard draped her arm over the back of her chair and adopted an easy smile, even though inside her anxiety was running amok. "What's the house specialty, barkeep?"

"Ryncol," she dead-panned while checking the liquor cabinet. "But I don't see it here. I guess my next best drink would be anything with Earth liquor. I'm not so good with alien drinks."

"Well, I'm a vodka girl myself," Shepard said. "Put vodka in something and I'll drink it."

"And you, Jeff?" Chakwas asked.

"I'm more of a beer drinker. I don't know much about mixed drinks. I guess give me whatever you give Shepard."

Turning her attention to James, the doctor asked, "And what would you like, Lt. Vega?"

It was odd to see such a big man blush. "You don't have to pretend to be nice to me," he said. "I'm sure you don't really want to make one of your captors a drink."

Chakwas just shrugged. "Nonsense. You're just doing your job. No reason we can't be friendly."

He smiled and the expression immediately softened him in Shepard's eyes. "Well, I wouldn't mind something with tequila in it. If you have it."

"I think I can manage that."

As Chakwas prepared the drinks, Shepard studied the lieutenant before asking, "So, James, how did you get the honor of babysitting us?"

"Anderson asked me to," he replied, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "I was already on Omega when he came calling."

As Chakwas walked by she handed Shepard a glass with a pink liquid in it and then delivered a glass to Joker and James. Shepard murmured her thanks and took a sip, noting that the doctor had not been stingy with her liquor serving. The commander also recognized the juice she'd used as a mixer; an asari juice, the closest thing Shepard could compare the taste to was blackberries, but it was also oddly citric so that it resembled orange juice as well. Liara liked it, which was why they carried it on the ship. The thought of Liara sent a pang of longing through Shepard's head. Smothering the feeling, she said, "You must have an impressive service record if Anderson sought you out." She watched James shrug and avert his eyes at that. She considered him over the rim of her glass as she took another sip and then added, "But an Alliance soldier hanging out on Omega is odd. You must have been on shore leave. Which begs the question: why would you give up your shore leave to play bodyguard?"

Joker leaned forward, suddenly interested. James tried to hide his discomfort by taking a gulp from his glass, but he must have underestimated the strength of the drink because it sent a shudder down his spine and he cringed. "I didn't want to accept at first," he admitted, "but Anderson was insistent and... when he told me who we would be escorting..."

Just as she'd suspected. James was obviously young, early twenties probably, and the young ones were all the same. "And you wanted to see the famous Commander Shepard," she finished for him. She wondered if he was the type of man who would later brag to his friends that he had held Commander Shepard prisoner.

"How come no one ever comes to see the best pilot in the galaxy?" Joker complained, grimacing as he took another drink.

An awkward silence fell over them all for a few minutes until James said, "Commander, I was hoping... I thought maybe you would tell me about The Blitz. About how you saved Elysium."

"No," was her curt reply.

Taken aback, he stumbled, "I-I thought you would be proud of The Blitz. You were the youngest person ever to receive the Star of Terra..."

"The youngest living person," she corrected. "Sixteen young men and women, not even soldiers yet, gave their lives that day. They also received the Star of Terra for their bravery. But no one ever talks about them." I don't even know their names, Shepard thought to herself. But she remembered the faces.

"Come to think of it," Joker said, "I don't think I've ever heard you talk about The Blitz."

"Nor will you," she muttered back. "I don't ever talk about it." A lie. She did talk about it, but only once a year, and today was not that day.

The others took the hint and the talk eventually turned to more amiably things. Shepard decided that she liked James; he was straight-forward and sincere like her brothers had been. In fact, he reminded her a lot of David in both personality and appearance. He did like to flirt though, but it seemed like just harmless play. He carried a pack of cards with him, and they spent the journey learning a game from James' childhood; a welcome distraction from what lay ahead.

~.~.~.~.~

3 Months Later...

Liara dreamed of Shepard. In her dreams the commander was back in her arms, kissing her, caressing her, embracing her... She felt the heat of Shepard's body pressed closely against hers, the softness of her skin and strength of her muscles. She smelled the conditioner in her hair as she buried her face in Shepard's dark tresses, and under that the scent that was distinctly the commander's. It made Liara think of warmth, of a pool of clean water in the sun. She could taste Shepard's lips, her neck, the side of her face. It made her hunger for more and she longed to completely intertwine herself with the commander. To feel every inch of her body, to fill her senses with the woman she loved, to feel the brush of her mind. And then she could hear her. A mirthful laugh, a soft moan in her ear, and suddenly Shepard was calling out her name.

"Liara!"

She bolted upright in her bed, drenched in a cold sweat and surrounded by darkness. Panting heavily, Liara's blue eyes darted about as she gathered her thoughts. All she could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss, as if a part of her had been ripped away. Her left hand quested over the empty space next to her, feeling only coldness where there should have been warmth. A dream, she realized. It was just a dream.

Putting a hand to her forehead, Liara tried to banish the remnants of the dream from her mind. It was torture, having those sorts of dreams about Shepard only to wake up alone and knowing that the woman she loved was a billion light years away. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she wondered if Shepard dreamed of her too.

Glancing at the clock by her bedside, she saw that she had only managed to get three hours of sleep. Yet, there was no way she would be able to get back to sleep now, she knew. With a sigh, she rose and got dressed before heading to the Broker's office. The terminals all glowed since they were never turned off, and Liara checked to see if anything had happened while she slept. As she checked her email, she noticed a message from Admiral Hackett. Her heart nearly leaped into her throat; her initial instinct was that it must be about Shepard. But when she read it she realized that he had no new information on the commander. Instead, he said that he had started charging scientists at the Mars archives to start gathering all data on the protheans and begin looking for anything related to the Reapers. A sound strategy, Liara thought as she scrolled through the message. At the end of the email he extended an invitation for Liara to come head the hunt for information given her expertise in prothean studies.

Sitting back in her chair, Liara mulled over the decision. Admiral Hackett certainly had the right idea by looking into what the protheans had to say about the Reapers, but there was no guarantee that anything useful would be found on Mars. It was just one planet and as the Broker, Liara had access to the entire galaxy at her finger tips. She would be closer to Shepard on Mars though. Only a fraction of a light year away as opposed to several billion. Shaking her head, she told herself that she couldn't base her decision off of something like that. As the Broker she could use her resources to scour the galaxy for clues. Mars was tempting, but as long as she had the Broker base she had to keep digging through all of the information that she could find.

Just as she was about to reply to Hackett's email, the ship's alarms began ringing. Bringing up the radar and security systems, Liara saw unidentified ships approaching the base.

In the same instant, Feron's voice came over the radio. "Liara! It's Cerberus! They've found us!"

"I know," she answered, studying the security information flooding onto her terminal. Maybe she would have to take Admiral Hackett's offer after all.

~.~.~.~.~

A yawn cracked Shepard's jaw as she tried to focus on the datapad in her hand. Her sleep had been far from restful the last few weeks and her brain felt fuzzy even at the best of times. She couldn't decide what was worse: the nightmares from the prothean beacon that had returned with a vengeance or the dreams of Liara. The Reaper dreams filled her with fear and dread, mingling with her own memories to become demons that tormented her in both her sleeping and waking hours. But the dreams of Liara were almost as bad because they tricked her into relaxing. At best, she awoke needing a cold shower. At worst, she was lured into a state of vulnerability which made it all the more painful when the dream changed into a horror of blood and death, courtesy of the Reapers. She'd had to watch Liara die a dozen different ways already. Each time she awoke feeling hollow and on the verge of tears.

Shepard wondered how much more torment her psyche could handle. She needed her wits about her at the moment with the defense council evading her pleas at every turn. Her last hearing with them was in just a few minutes; her last chance to try to convince them of the Reaper invasion. She prayed Garrus and Tali were having better luck with their governments than she was having with hers.

When they finally called her to stand before them again, she opened the way she always did: asking if they had taken a look at the evidence she had collected for them. All the data she had gathered on the collectors over the past half a year and any other data that her crew could piece together.

They responded the way that they always did: by telling her that the evidence wasn't enough.

"Reapers either kill everyone or turn people into husks," Shepard pointed out. "They don't leave a lot of evidence behind. But you have the data from the Reaper the collectors were building. You have to admit that those readings aren't normal."

One of the committee members, a woman with graying hair and a heavily wrinkled face, said, "That data is alarming, Commander, but it isn't proof of the Reapers."

"Besides," one of the men cut in, "we have listened to your warnings and increased our perimeter defenses. If anyone tries to invade the Sol System, we will be ready."

Grinding her teeth, Shepard said, "That's not good enough. We can't stand up to the Reapers alone. I asked you to make alliances with the other races. I asked you to gather supplies and find shelters for the civilians. I asked you to look into ways to beat them! Putting more ships on the perimeter won't stop the Reapers. In fact, you've just lined our ships up better for them to be destroyed!"

The chairman, a balding man with a weathered face, gave her a fierce scowl. "You're not in a position to be making demands. The batarians are calling for your head after what you did in the Bahak System. The only reason you're still alive is because of our protection."

Shepard had to bite back a scathing retort. He's bringing up the batarians to rile me, she reminded herself. He wants me to get angry. If I look out of control, they can discredit everything I've said. Some part of them believed her about the Reapers, she knew. The trick was getting them to realize that too.

"If you're not going to listen to what I have to say, then you might as well hand me over to them," she said, keeping her voice strictly even. "I may have as good a chance of convincing them of the truth as I have of convincing you."

The chairman's face went nearly purple from rage, but he chose not to reply to her comment. Instead he said, "Is there anything else you want to say on this matter before we close the hearing on it?"

Shepard went down the line, staring each of them in the eye. "At eighteen years old I gave my life to the Alliance. I swore to protect every human in the galaxy. I swore to serve loyally. I swore to lay down my life if it was necessary to save others. I fought on alien planets and I watched friends die. I held the line on Elysium after countless waves of batarians killed my commanding officer and fellow soldiers. I became the first human spectre and stopped Saren from handing the Citadel over to the Reapers. I stopped the abduction of human colonies. And I will fight the Reapers. But I can't stop them without help. So I am begging you: please serve and protect humanity. Make the sacrifices of countless soldiers worth something. Help me ensure that there is a humanity left to save."

They stared back at her with faces like stone. One or two had the decency to avert their eyes after a moment, but the rest showed no signs that her words had affected them. After a minute of silence, the chairman said, "That will conclude our hearing on the Reapers. Now, before we dismiss you, Shepard, we will ask again: do you still deny knowing the whereabouts of the Cerberus crew that served with you aboard the Normandy?"

Shepard was sure that the look on her face was full of murder, but she said nothing. Clasping her arms behind her back, she settled into a parade rest and steeled herself to remain silent.

The gray haired woman spoke up again. "Shepard, we will be handing you over to the justice committee soon and they will be preparing evidence for your trial. It would no doubt help to show cooperation."

"Harboring known terrorists is a charge itself," the chairman added.

Shepard remained silent.