Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The kids don't care if you're alright, honey.

Pills don't help, but it sure is funny.

Paragon

Jane Shepard woke up to the sound of her space hamster running on his wheel in her tiny studio apartment near the Alliance HQ in Vancouver. She looked up at her calendar on the wall and sighed heavily. She’d been under house arrest for three months after serving harder time in an Alliance prison under interrogation. Throughout the entire ordeal so far, she’d been totally alone. None of her friends from the Normandy had written a word to her. No vid messages. Not even a fucking card on her goddamned birthday.

Thirty-two. Technically thirty, depending on how anyone wanted to count being dead for two years. She was thirty-two, she’d learned about the Reapers a little over three years ago, and thwarted every plan the giant mechanical space squids had to eradicate life in the galaxy, all so she could try to buy enough time for various interstellar governments to fucking listen to her.

Shepard rolled onto her side and hid her eyes from the early morning sunlight. She hated waking up alone. The bed in this cell of an apartment was tiny, there was no way she could fit anyone else in here with her let alone an alien boyfriend at least a foot taller than herself. She still fought back tears every time she opened her eyes after being somewhere else in her dreams. Sometimes they were tears of sorrow, and sometimes they were tears of relief because she’d been having a nightmare.

Shepard buried her face in the dark kinetic weaving of a bullet resistant shirt that she slept with every night. The sleeves were wrapped around her in the pale imitation of a lover’s embrace. She inhaled deeply knowing that the warm, metallic scent of Turian had long since faded from the fabric.

She wondered what everyone was doing these days. Had Tali been put on the Admiralty Board? How were Legion and the rest of the Geth doing? Was Liara okay being the Shadow Broker? How had Thane’s illness progressed, did Kepral’s Syndrome finally catch up with him? Shepard hoped he’d been able to spend more time with his son and make up with Kolyat. Did Grunt ever pass his Rite of Honor and was she a grandmother yet? How was Wrex doing with a contender for toughest hump on Tuchanka? What were Jacob and Miranda up to now that they’d quit Cerberus? Did Samara make it to visit her daughters? Did Zaeed finally retire? What was Mordin doing? Was he back at his clinic on Omega or had he picked up Maelon’s research and tried to finish the genophage cure? How was Jack liking teaching at Grissom Academy? Were she and Nia still together? How was Kasumi? How were Joker, Dr. Chakwas, Kelly? Did Ash ever come out to her family about the whole bisexual and alien girlfriend thing? Did Garrus make up with his dad, or get the Turian military to listen to him?

She hoped he had more success in that department than she did. She also hoped he still thought about her at least half as much as she thought of him. The last thing he’d said to her before she waltzed her happy ass out of her ship to a waiting pair of handcuffs was that he’d never stop loving her. It would have been nice to believe, but beautiful lies were the hardest to break free from.

But… he wasn’t lying. Garrus doesn’t lie. Not to me.

Shepard pulled Garrus’s shirt more tightly around her. She tried to remember what it felt like when he held her and found that her mind couldn’t call anything forth. Even her dreams were faint memories of talons and teeth and a long, pointed tongue.

Shepard’s house arrest could have been bearable if she could have at least fucking talked to any of her friends. After a blur of interrogations using borderline illegal methods overseen by Alliance brass that didn’t give half a shit that she used to be Commander Jane Goddamn Shepard, after solitary confinement where she nearly lost her mind, the house arrest was the worst part. She was nominally free, but constantly watched by guards, handlers, and anything else the Alliance thought they needed to keep her in a very small area of the city in which she grew up.

Shepard rolled over and glanced at the vid screen on the wall across from her bed. She’d fallen asleep binging old cartoons. It was something, at least. Not her music, but something to keep her mind from coming up with extraneous thoughts to prevent her from sleeping. She supposed she could get up, get herself presentable.

—

Shepard stepped out of the shower and toweled herself dry. She pulled on a pair of black uniform pants and boots, trying to avoid looking at the fractal scars snaking down her arms and one leg. The tight elastic band of a sports bra snapped into place under her breasts. She contemplated the blue shirt laying over the footboard of her bed and made a different selection instead. She tied the sleeves of Garrus’s old shirt around her neck and zipped up her N7 jacket overtop of it. The Alliance had kept her personal possessions for her while she was in prison, but Shepard had insisted on being allowed to take this shirt with her.

“If you want to take this from me, it’ll be from my cold, dead fingers. You really wanna fuck with Commander Goddamn Shepard?”

“Prison regulations state–”

“Fuck your regulations. How are you going to stop me?” She glared out from under her bangs, eyes burning with cold fire. 

The guard took half a step back, stammering an apology.

“That’s what I thought.”

That hadn’t been the last time someone tried to fuck with her. Three months at a blacksite under interrogation, and when she wasn’t there she was in solitary, and when she wasn’t there she did have limited contact with the other prisoners. Shepard had mostly kept to herself during those times. It wasn’t out of fear. She just didn’t want to get involved with prison politics.

“Yo, Red!”

Shepard rolled her eyes but didn’t look up from her table in the corner of the mess hall. Harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows on the concrete walls and aluminum furniture. She’d learned early on not to sit with her back to the room.

“Hey!” The voice was louder now. If Shepard deigned to peek through her bangs, she’d find its owner. “I’m talking to you, Red.”

Red. That was what they all called her. She wouldn’t give her name, and the prison guards didn’t either. The fact that Commander Shepard was in this fucking hole was the tightest secret in all of Alliance space. Quietly disappeared after being stripped of her rank, her ship, her accomplishments, and dishonorably discharged after saving the goddamn galaxy three fucking times.

“We’re not supposed to talk to one another,” Shepard said quietly. Normally if she just engaged gray rock protocol and made herself uninteresting, they all left her alone.

“You think these assholes are gonna protect you?” the other prisoner sneered right next to her ear. Shepard crushed the impulse to strike and potentially kill them. “I got a question for you. Why’re you so special they let you keep this?”

Shepard felt a tug on the shirt sleeves tied around her neck. She closed her hand over the knot that hung in front of her chest. She realized she was shaking with the effort of staying still. She’d been on her best behavior so far, done what she could to prove that she wasn’t supposed to be in a place like this. She was Commander Goddamn Shepard. She wasn’t a mass murderer or a terrorist.

Except that she was. Shepard glared out from under her bangs. “Because nobody is going to take it from me, least of all some scum of the earth fuckbitch I could break over my knee.”

“Think you’re a badass, Red?” Another tug on the sleeves.

Shepard arched an eyebrow. “Think? I know. My body count is orders of magnitude higher than yours. Now back the fuck up. We’re not supposed to be talking to each other.”

“Where’d you get this?” Two more tugs. Shepard could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on her, waiting to see if “Red” would finally do something.

Shepard inhaled deeply through her nose. “If I tell you, will you leave me the hell alone?”

“Depends on the answer.”

“I fucked a Turian. Multiple times. Had him calling me a goddess in bed. Satisfied?”

Footsteps stomped away from her as guards finally got off their asses to intervene. Shepard kept her eyes on the table and slumped over with a sullen expression. She hadn’t started the altercation, but she sure as hell was going to pay for it. She wrapped one arm around her waist.

Shepard raked a brush through her wet hair while she thought. The water made little pitter-patter noises as droplets hit the hard tile floors of her studio. She tried pushing her bangs back out of her eyes, but they just fell forward again. She couldn’t do a damn thing with her hair without Kasumi, it seemed. Shepard pulled back what she could into a ponytail at the base of her neck. The rest hung over scars that had steadily looked worse the longer she’d been on Earth. Shepard tried to smile at herself in the mirror and couldn’t get the deep canyon dug into her cheek to disappear completely. The expression looked fake, hollow. She wasn’t happy. How could she be? Commander Shepard learned a long time ago that she was nothing without her squad, without her friends.

How many had she lost now? Annie, Helena, and the rest of her old gang that used to run in the slums of this very city. She’d bounced around between a few groups at the Alliance naval academy, then been plucked out of the milieu of students by her figure-skating coach, Roxanne “Goose” Jett. Her proving ground for the Alliance N7 program had been the Skyllian Blitz, and Goose’s intuition about little Sheep had been proven right. Shepard had earned her place on McDonald’s squad with Goose and the others. She’d found herself another little family. Then they got eaten by a Thresher Maw on Akuze and she was the only one left. Her performance had been enough to catch the eye of the Council and made her the first Human Spectre. Her induction into that had set her on the path to discover the Reapers, meet her best friends, and fall in love with a fuckmothering Turian of all people. Now they were all gone too. She was alone. Again.

Tali at least had taught Shepard enough about makeup to do a little something about the dark circles under her eyes. Shepard lightly dusted purples and grays on her top lid and drew straight, sharp lines along her lashes. She brushed a gunmetal powder on the outer corners of her bottom lashline. It wasn’t much, but it’d do.

Shepard nibbled on a strawberry poptart, not her favorite, but the chocolate ones were in short supply for whatever godforsaken reason. She looked up from the tiny table in her kitchen out the window and saw a little boy playing with a toy spaceship on his family’s balcony. He was a cute kid, maybe around Theia’s age. Shepard wondered what the little Asari was doing right now. She looked up into a blue sky dotted with clouds. What were any of the people she’d met on her missions doing right now? Shiala, the Asari she’d rescued from the Thorian on Feros; Char the Krogan and his girlfriend; Maelon, Mordin’s wayward student, or David, Mordin’s protege from the clinic on Omega; the Rachni Queen. There were others whose faces she could remember but whose names escaped her for the time being. Too many other errant thoughts fought for her attention.

She checked her omni-tool for any messages knowing she wouldn’t find them. She hadn’t even been allowed to log in to her fucking terminal to play an online video game since getting out of prison. She hoped Tali had found the time to keep up with feeding Shepard’s virtual pets.

Someone knocked on her door. Shepard tossed the last piece of poptart into her mouth and answered. A young man, maybe a few years younger than herself, with warm brown skin and more muscles than she knew what to think about, greeted her with a salute. Tattoos curved around each side of his neck, stopping just below his hairline. He kept his black hair cropped short and kind of spiked up on top. “Commander.”

“James, you’re not supposed to call me that.” Shepard said to James Vega, a lieutenant in the Alliance marine corps. He’d been one of her babysitters since she’d been grounded and confined to this apartment block.

“I’m not supposed to salute you either,” James said. He couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking down to Shepard’s legs. “I don’t suppose you had any plans today.”

Shepard looked back over her shoulder to where a pair of ice skates hung off a peg on her wall. “Nothing that can’t wait.” Skating was the one leisure activity she could still enjoy. She’d gotten a lot of her old rhythm back in the last few months, and even re-learned plenty of tricks Goose had taught her that were technically illegal in competition, but impressive as fuck and got her rounds of applause from some of the younger kids at the rink. If the Alliance never let her leave Earth again, she could settle down and teach figure skating, maybe.

“We gotta go, the defense committee wants to see you,” James said.

Shepard snorted. “The fuck do they want with me?”

“If you ask me, I think they stopped deciding to be a bunch of pendejos and are taking you seriously. But they wouldn’t tell me why they want you. Just that they need to see you. Now.”

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Shepard sighed. She followed James through the crowded hallway. People gave the burly marine a wide berth, but some of them shoulder-checked Shepard on accident. Sometimes she wished she were six feet tall and built like a brick house instead of five-eight and more lithe than stocky. She could still throw a punch to knock anyone on their ass, regardless of species or size. She could still headbutt a fucking Krogan into submission. People still made the mistake of underestimating Jane Shepard, though.

“Admiral,” James said, coming to a stop in front of an older man with brown skin, short gray hair, and a wide nose and mouth. The man wore the blue and gold uniform of a navy Admiral. James saluted.

“Anderson,” Shepard said, snapping to a salute out of habit. After her trial, the Council had opted to replace the then-Captain Anderson with Ambassador Udina as Humanity’s representative in the galaxy. A military man didn’t inspire a lot of trust in the Batarians, who’d all but demanded Shepard’s hide tanned and prepared for display as a throw rug. The Turian councilor, Sparatus, had objected, but the Asari and Salarian representatives overruled him. Aside from Humans, Turians had the newest seat and it had taken them thousands of years to achieve that. Humanity discovered it wasn’t alone in the galaxy barely thirty years ago.

“You look good, Shepard,” Anderson said.

“I’ll say…” James muttered, seemingly believing he’d kept the thought to himself. Shepard fought the urge to roll her eyes. She’d never told him she was seeing someone, partly because she wasn’t even entirely sure if she still was. She still loved Garrus though, and that was enough reason for her to not even look at anyone else.

“Maybe a little soft around the edges?” Anderson jabbed Shepard in the gut, but his hand met hardened steel the likes of which could make a Turian swoon. He shook out his wrist.

“I don’t go soft, Admiral,” Shepard said.

“How’re you holding up since you were relieved of duty?” Anderson asked, leading them towards the hall where the defense committee would be waiting.

Shepard exhaled loudly. “I fucking hate it. Hot food and soft beds are okay, but…”

“You feel like you’re stuck down here unable to do anything,” Anderson said grimly. His jaw had a harder set to it since he was relieved of his Council position.

More people rushed down the hall, flitting around like hummingbirds on the edge of a panic attack. “What’s going on?” Shepard asked. “Why’s everyone in such a hurry?”

“Admiral Hackett is mobilizing the fleets,” Anderson said. James peeled off to join up with another group. Anderson continued, “I guess word’s made it to the Alliance command. Something’s coming our way. Something big.”

“The Reapers.” Shepard said it as a statement of fact. Her shoulders drooped and the light behind her eyes died a little.

“We don’t know. Not for certain.” Anderson paused on the stairs and looked back down at her. Despite his words, Shepard knew the gears in his mind turned the same as hers. They knew what was coming, and now disgraced Commander Shepard was being pulled out of the closet to save their fucking asses.

“What the hell else could it be, Anderson?” Shepard demanded.

“If I knew that…” he trailed off.

“You know we’re not fucking ready,” Shepard said. “Not by a long shot.”

“Shepard, have I ever told you that I’m exceedingly glad you’re not my daughter?” Anderson said. “You may want to tone down the mouth in front of the committee.”

“Fuck the defense committee,” Shepard grumbled as they ascended the stairs once more. “Unless we’re planning to talk the Reapers to death, the committee is a waste of time.”

I’ve technically done that before.

A brief memory of the time she’d talked an indoctrinated Spectre into suicide popped into her head.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Anderson said. “But they’re just scared. None of them have seen what you’ve seen.”

If they had, they wouldn’t have cut me off from my goddamned therapist.

Anderson kept talking. “You’ve faced down a Reaper. Hell, you spoke to one, then blew the damn thing up!”

“What was that about language, Admiral?” Shepard teased.

“Shepard, you’ve seen how they harvest us, what they plan to do to us.” The stairs gave way to a long hallway filled with more Alliance soldiers, sailors, and airmen. “You know more about this enemy than anyone.”

“Is that why they grounded me and took away my goddamned ship?” Shepard snapped, rounding on Anderson to block his path. She glared up at him.

“You know that’s not true,” Anderson said, trying to placate her. “When you blew up the Batarian relay, hundreds of thousands of Batarians died!”

“You do not have to fucking remind me, Admiral,” Shepard spat. She felt tears try to escape and ruin the effort she’d put into her appearance. Her fist struck her thigh, right on top of the number 304,942 permanently etched into her skin in black ink. “Not a night goes by that I don’t hear those people screaming. If there had been any other way–”

“I know, Shepard,” Anderson reassured her. “It was either that or let the Reapers walk through the back door. The committee knows too, and if it wasn’t for that you’d have been court-martialed and left to rot in the brig.”

Shepard chuckled darkly. “Anderson, I’ve been in my little comfy cell for three months. Where the hell did you think I was for the first three after the trial?”

He looked taken aback.

Shepard snorted. “Never changed my story, no matter what they did to me. You know, I thought confessions under duress weren’t admissible?”

“Shepard,” Anderson began, but she cut him off.

“Let’s get this over with. I’m a soldier, not a fucking politician. We do this my way, cussing and all.” She started walking towards the end of the hall.

Anderson caught up to her. “I don’t need you to be either, just do whatever the hell it takes to help us stop the Reapers.”

The door opened and an officer quickly greeted them before directing Shepard and Admiral Anderson to the right, towards the courtroom the defense committee was using for their meeting space. James was there, and he wished her luck with a firm handshake before Shepard turned to follow Anderson and stopped in her tracks.

“Ash?” Shepard breathed.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Anderson greeted the dark-haired woman. She’d gone back to keeping her hair in a smart bun, more in line with Alliance regulations than the long braid she’d adopted while acting as the Alliance liaison on Shepard’s run against the Collectors. Ashley Williams wore a set of blue armor, an upgrade from her old kit.

“Shepard!” Ashley’s face lit up. Shepard took long, quick strides forward and crushed the small brunette in a hug. “They finally let you out of the hole, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up, Ash,” Shepard said. “What have you… where… Were you here this whole fucking time!?”

Ashley shook her head. “Not exactly. Liara and I have been following a few leads for Admiral Hackett. We actually lost her base to a Cerberus attack.” Ashley smiled nervously. “Same assassin fuck who tried to nail us on the Reaper. Li and Feron crashed the ship into a Cerberus cruiser. It was fucking awesome!”

Shepard laughed, then suddenly stopped. “Wait. Lieutenant Commander?” She squinted at Ashley. “You’re growing up, chief. Guess I have to call you LC now.”

“How’d it go in there, Lieutenant Commander?” Anderson asked.

“Hard to tell, I’m just waiting for orders now,” Ash said. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, Shep. These bastards were keeping you under lock and key, though. None of us were allowed to talk to you. Me, Dr. Chakwas, Joker, nevermind anyone not affiliated with the Alliance. Trust me. We tried.”

Shepard bit the back of her tongue to keep from freaking out on Anderson right there in the middle of the hallway. It wasn’t that nobody cared to try and contact her. They literally couldn’t.

Fuck. What if Garrus tried to contact me and thinks I’m mad at him! Dammit…

“Admiral,” an officer stepped up to catch Anderson’s attention.

“Come on,” Anderson said. He followed the officer without looking back to see if Shepard was coming. She hurried after him and cast a glance back at Ash who was giving her a little wave and smile of encouragement.

Chapter Text

So how can this be? You're praying to me?

There's a look in your eyes. I know just what that means.

Paragon

The Alliance defense committee were facing away from the door, staring out the window. Shepard would have at least liked to be given the dignity of them looking at her when she walked into the room. The wide space was lit by the mid-afternoon sun.

They finally turned around after what felt like forever. “Admiral Anderson, Shepard.”

It just feels like forever because it’s quiet.

“What’s the situation?” Shepard asked the three people sitting at the high table, two men and one woman.

“We were hoping you could tell us,” the committee chairman sitting in the middle said.

Shepard stared up at him with cold eyes and little emotion. They wouldn’t have brought her here if they didn’t already know. They just wanted someone else to say it: the person they’d strung up in the square and abandoned. The person they’d shut up and called crazy. Someone shoved a data pad into her hand. She started to skim it.

“The reports coming in are unlike anything we’ve ever seen,” the lone woman on the committee said. “Whole colonies have gone dark. We’ve lost contact with everything beyond the Sol relay.”

The chairman picked back up. “Whatever this is, it’s incomprehensibly powerful.”

Of course it fucking is. And now you want me to fix it for you.

If this got her back in space, she could track down her old team and maybe work another miracle. She’d beaten Sovereign, come back from the dead, and destroyed the Collectors. That was three miracles. Three was what it took for sainthood, right? She’d have to ask Ash the next time she got a chance.

“You brought me here to say what you don’t have the balls to,” Shepard said. “The Reapers are here.”

A hush fell over the room.

“Then,” one of the committee members asked, “how do we stop them?”

“You don’t.” Shepard’s voice was flat. “This isn’t about strategy or tactics. It’s about fucking survival.” She stepped up to the high table. “The Reapers are more advanced than us, more powerful, more intelligent. They don’t fear us. They sure as shit won’t take pity on us.”

“But there has to be some way!”

“If we are going to have any chance at surviving this hell, we’ve got to stand together,” Shepard said curtly.

“That’s it!?” the chairman cried. “That’s our plan!?”

Anderson looked like he was about to speak, but an officer interrupted him. “Admiral, we’ve lost contact with Luna base.”

Luna base… That was the first place I ever met EDI. Or what would become her.

“The moon?” Anderson said. “They couldn’t be that close already.”

“How’d they get past our defenses?” the female committee member asked nobody in particular.

More chatter from around the room assaulted Shepard’s ears. This was why she’d started with her music in the first place. She couldn’t think. She was starting to shut down, and would if she couldn’t stay grounded. Her eyes darted around the room for five things she could see. Blue uniform, white building out the window, brown tile, gold pen cap on the high table, red stripe on her jacket.

“Sir, UK headquarters has a visual.” The officer turned on a vid screen along the top of the room that displayed static and then a low quality feed from London. It was in flames, with thick, black smoke choking the air. The loud, bass pulse of a Reaper rattled the microphone on whatever was being used to capture the footage before the signal was lost.

Everyone who’d been in their seats stood up. A satellite image was cast to the screen showing a Reaper standing in the middle of London. More could be seen entering the atmosphere. Shepard dug her nails into her palms. They bit deeper and deeper as she squeezed her fists tighter and tighter. She’d stopped keeping them so short and had even contemplated the idea of going for a manicure once or twice. Nothing fancy, just something to strengthen the nails so they wouldn’t break or flake off the next time she tried getting rough with her Turian boyfriend.

Let me off this planet, let me back in the stars, give me my ship, and let me get my goddamned team!

You don’t want your team. You just want the sexy alien.

Shut the fuck up. That’s not true.

Isn’t it?

“Why haven’t we heard from Admiral Hackett?” Anderson’s brown eyes were locked on the screen.

“What do we do?” the committee chairman demanded. His eyes weren’t on Anderson, or any other Alliance personnel in the room. His eyes were on Shepard.

“The only thing we can do,” Shepard said. She pointed back at the screen. “We fight or we die.”

“We should get to the Normandy,” Anderson said.

“Fuck yes! Give me back my goddamned boat already!” Shepard cried, throwing her hands into the air. The defense committee stared at her in open-mouthed awe at her audacity. She smiled sheepishly at them, but the smile faded as a low rumbling filled the air. The committee members stood and turned to look out the window. Red lightning arced through the sky. Where an expanse of blue dotted with white, puffy clouds had once been was now a roiling mass of gray. Shepard felt the storm that was rapidly brewing. The synthetic fibers Dr. Chakwas had woven into her skin after Shepard got her chest demolished by her own gun had a tendency to react to charged particles in the air, making her feel tingly. A Reaper descended from the sky, firing a red beam of fire and death out of its eye. The beam swept along the ground towards the building they were all in.

“Move!” Shepard called. “Go, go, go!” She turned to run just in time for the window to get blown out and glass to fly everywhere. She dove for the ground, covering her head. Her back would be fine. The table the committee had been sitting at rolled through the air over her head. She tried to stand, but another blast from the laser and another shockwave knocked her towards the far wall again. This time her head cracked into a chair. She rolled down onto the floor and onto her back.

Everything was blurry. Her ears rang. But she was still conscious. Somewhere at the edge of her awareness, she heard Anderson calling her name over and over. She pushed herself up onto her hands and saw several things in the room on fire.

“Shepard, come on get up!” Anderson reached out a hand and Shepard pulled herself to her feet. He pressed a pistol into her hand. “Come on, we’ve got to get moving.”

His Admiral’s uniform wasn’t glossy blue anymore, but dusty. Shepard thought she saw a blood stain on some of the gold trim. “Sir, are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. We’ve got to get to the ship.” He held a hand to his earpiece and broadcast along all frequencies. “This is Admiral Anderson. Report in. Anyone?”

Shepard checked the room for survivors. Anderson was able to reach someone, Ash.

“Lieutenant Commander, is that you? What’s your status?”

LC

“We’re still kicking, Admiral,” Ashley said into the comm. “Can you get in contact with the Normandy?”

All around Ashley, people ran in frantic circles. She shook her head to clear it and felt her bun fall out. She really ought to cut her hair. It wasn’t really practical, but Liara liked it. The thick braid fell over her shoulder as she hauled herself to her feet. She hoped Li was still on the Mars base and hadn’t been caught in whatever Reaper crossfire existed between planets.

“No, I can’t raise the Normandy, you’ll have to contact them. We’ll meet you at the landing zone. Anderson out.”

“Wait!” Ashley wanted to ask if Shepard was still alive.

Of course she’s alive. It’s Shep. Why wouldn’t she be?

The man with her, Vega, staggered to his feet. “You’re with me,” Ashley said. “We’ve got to get to the Normandy. Come on.”

Ashley took a page out of Shepard’s book and ran. She raced through the crumbling HQ building and out into the streets. Above her, a Reaper stomped through the city as military personnel and civilians alike screamed in terror. Ashley felt a wave of nauseating fear rip through her with another of the loud pulses the thing emitted. It tried to wriggle its way into her midbrain.

You cannot resist us. We are inevitable. You are nothing.

Her heart thundered in her chest like it would explode if it couldn’t beat faster. Her breath tried to freeze in her lungs. She’d felt this before, but not as strongly. On the derelict Reaper orbiting Mnemosyne, she’d felt this same fear, this same inadequacy, this same insignificance.

You got this, Ash. Make me proud.

Aye aye, Commander.

Paragon

Shepard looked out over the devastation. Multiple Reapers had landed in the city, each one at least as tall as the highest skyscrapers. Their tentacle legs planted themselves in the ground and the red laser out of their eyes tore through whole buildings.

Anderson reached over to brush some glass off of Shepard’s back. She stripped off her jacket and shook it out. Anderson averted his eyes upon realizing there wasn’t any true clothing underneath it, just her sports bra. Shepard untied Garrus’s shirt from around her neck and shook it out for good measure before returning her ensemble to its previous state.

“Good luck charm?” Anderson asked.

Shepard nodded. “Any other comments?”

“Just that Garrus is a lucky bastard is all, and he’d better treat you right.”

Shepard’s face briefly broke into a sad smile. “You sound like my dad. If I had one.”

“Again, Shepard, I’m very glad you’re not my daughter. Don’t think I could have handled it if my kid did half the things you have.”

“You have kids?”

Anderson shook his head. “No. Was always going to maybe start a family, but the life of a spacer isn’t for everyone and my ex-wife struggled with it.” He looked up at the Reapers. “They’re massive.”

Shepard nodded. “Yup. Giant fucking space squids. Just like I said.” She followed Anderson down the front of the building, hopping to a lower level where the stairs had been blown out.

“Williams is headed to the Normandy, we can meet up with her if we make it to the spaceport.”

“Aye aye.” Shepard followed him along a support strut just wide enough for them to walk on without feeling like they were going to fall to their deaths. Reaper lasers cut through the city around them. One sliced through their path, making Anderson stagger back.

“Look out!” he cried. Shepard reached out to steady him. “How do you stop something so powerful?” Anderson asked her.

“I was thinking a giant bomb? Maybe a Krogan airstrike?” Shepard shrugged.

She and Anderson had to scramble up the side of the building to keep going forward. Shepard pushed the older man up ahead of her, keeping an eye on their six to make sure nothing was following them. They had to take a leap across a gap and Shepard was very happy she hadn’t let herself get soft during her confinement.

They ran along the rooftop. Three of those little eyeball drones chased down a shuttle and shot it out of the air in a ball of fire. The heat wave from the blast ruffled her bangs. She used to run over the rooftops like this as a street kid. It was in a different part of the city, of course, but the muscle memory came back to her. She kept her weight on the balls of her feet, rolling down onto the arch and heel and bending her knees to absorb the shock whenever they dropped in elevation. She sprang across gaps and hauled herself up ladders, running towards her ship. Towards home.

Archangel

This was not what Garrus Vakarian expected. Preliminary reports coming in showed a fleet of Reapers closing on Palaven. Dammit, he thought they’d have more time! He halfheartedly checked his private correspondence again. The ritual was automatic now. How many days had it been since he’d heard anything from Jane? One hundred-fifty? Two hundred? Part of him still counted the days in three eight-hour shifts that ran standard on the Normandy.

I need to focus.

Garrus leaned on his elbows, staring down at his desk with his head in his hands. The forward operating base on Menae would need more supplies, more fighters. He’d been sent to this moon to help hold its defenses. If Menae fell, so too would Palaven. No force had pushed them back this far since the Krogan Rebellions. None of these thick-crested motherfuckers had any idea of the hell that would be raining down on them. They’d never seen an enemy like the Reapers before, one that defaced the corpses of their prey into more soldiers. Every Turian that died out there was just more fuel for their cosmically horrible war machine.

“Sir,” a courier quickly saluted him. She laid a data pad on his desk. “This is our latest intelligence from other nearby clusters. The Apien Crest wasn’t the only one hit. They’ve also been sighted in Hades Gamma and the Sol Cluster. We’ve lost contact with everything beyond those relays. Our last ship out sent word that Earth was under siege as well.”

Earth… Jane!

If the Alliance were smart, they’d let Jane out of whatever hole they’d been keeping her in to fight. The Human Systems Alliance, however, was not smart. Individuals were smart. Collectives? Governments? They were morons. Those same morons were what got the galaxy here in the first place. 

Garrus sighed heavily and glanced to the side where he kept one of the more tasteful candid shots Kasumi took of Jane on his desk: the one of her standing on the balcony of Donovan Hock’s mansion under a multicolored sunset staring into the distance. Garrus had looked at this picture a lot, trying to figure out just what his Commander was thinking when it was taken. Maybe if he could figure that out, he’d learn the secret to how she worked her battlefield magic and could replicate it for himself.

Garrus would also like to know if Jane still thought of him as often as he thought of her. Just like the early days after the Normandy SR1 had been destroyed, she was always there in the back of his mind. A ghost dogging his heels and pushing him forward. The only difference now was that when he dreamed of holding her in his arms, Garrus just woke up disappointed instead of ashamed.

“...Sir…?” the courier said quietly, trying to get his attention.

“Tell the Generals we need to be ready. Coordinate supplies, civilian evacuations. We need to prep Primarch Fedorian to get offworld and to the Citadel.”

Candidate

“Lieutenant Commander, do you read me? I’m patching in Shepard,” Anderson’s voice crackled through the comm.

“Loud and clear, Admiral,” Lt. Cmdr. Williams said. “I’ve got Lieutenant Vega with me, but we’re taking heavy fire.”

“Not for long, ma’am,” James said. He leaned around the corner and shot through several of the living nightmares that had come down with the Reapers. Husks he was familiar with. Husks were around during the war with Saren and the Geth. These other things, though, looked to be cannibalized from Human corpses. They were bloated monstrosities with red flesh and dead eyes that were able to carry a gun.

James Vega had more than just a sidearm. He’d made sure to grab real guns. He ripped through the creatures in his path with as much firepower as he could carry on his back, and then some. James Vega ascribed to the old mantra of spray-n-pray, shooting as fast as he could and filling whatever was in his sights so full of bullet holes that it couldn’t get up again. He looked back over his shoulder to see the Lieutenant Commander staring at him open-mouthed and winked at her.

“Like what you see, chica?”

The LC blinked in surprise. “Just haven’t seen someone fight like that since Shepard.”

Oh yeah. She likes it. She’s damn good-looking too.

Stay in the game, pendejo. Sí, Shepard y Williams son chicas muy bonitas, pero FOCUS!

James kept his gun up and his head on a swivel. Around him he heard the screams of the terrified and dying.

“I wish we’d thought to get some more weapons out of the Normandy’s armory,” Williams said. “Everything in there got worked over by an army of gun nuts.” She braced her pistol against a fallen slab of concrete and fired.

Paragon

Husks skittered up the fucking walls like a goddamn zombie vid. Shepard aimed at the weak point on their torso, just above the legs. The little pistol she had didn’t do near as much damage as her old Hand-Cannon. She wished she still had that. When her ship got impounded, though, she fully expected every gun in its arsenal had been removed. It took her multiple shots to blow the husks’ damn legs off.

Shepard followed Anderson down a ladder and across the rooftop garden she’d seen that little boy playing in earlier. Cracked glass kept more husks from getting to the living space inside. Shepard pistol whipped one of them, knocking its head to the side with a sickening crack. It turned to look at her with a tilted skull and slack jaw.

She punched, kicked, shot, did whatever she could to get the damn things to stay the fuck down. Dead fingers clawed at her, trying to either kill her or drag her away somewhere. Shepard didn’t care which. She just knew that these fucking crimes against nature were going to die. Again.

A Reaper let out a loud pulsing noise as its laser tore through the ground. It ripped into the building right in front of Shepard and blew out the glass with the force of the heat. She turned away, feeling the glass bounce harmlessly off her back. Garrus didn’t know it, but he was still watching her six from lightyears away.

The door hung open. Shepard and Anderson picked their way through the now burned-out rooms. A door at the far end seemed to be their best way forward. She approached it and tried to open it, but as the two halves slid apart a husk jammed itself into the space and the door tried to slam back closed. Shepard took her pistol and drove the grip into the husk’s cadaverous face. Black ichor welled up where she struck it as the husk fell to the ground, truly dead at last.

Shepard wedged herself into the door to hold it open so Admiral Anderson could squeeze through. “This way, sir.”

Anderson went into the room beyond that was filled with small fires, but otherwise seemed safe. Shepard, however, heard a noise from behind them. She let the door hang partially open and turned back to the blown out room. Had anything survived the Reaper’s blast? Were there more husks? Was she just imagining things?

The noise came from a vent. She looked over to see the little boy from earlier backing into the darkness. Instantly, her gaze softened and her demeanor shifted.

“Hey,” Shepard said gently. She crouched down in front of the vent and reached in after the boy. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

“Everyone’s dying.” He started to sob, still backing away from her.

“Come on out. I need to get you someplace safe.” Shepard’s words were punctuated by a tremor rocking the ground as the Reaper outside moved. She reached in after the little boy. “Take my hand. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“You can’t help me,” the boy said. Shepard pulled her hand back and readjusted her grip on the top edge of the vent in preparation to climb in after the child.

“Shepard!” Anderson called. “In here.” Shepard looked back over her shoulder on reflex, but when she returned her gaze to the vent, the boy was gone. She hadn’t even heard him move.

That wasn’t… all in my head, was it?

Shepard stood up with both reluctance and confusion to follow Admiral Anderson through a maze of wires, cables, pipes, and minor infernos.

“This is a goddamn mess,” Anderson grumbled. “Every minute these machines are here, thousands of innocent people die. I won’t be responsible.”

“It’s hard enough fighting a fucking war,” Shepard said. She picked her way over a warped mess of pipes. “But it’s worse knowing that no matter how hard you fucking try, you can’t save everyone.”

She hadn’t saved all the colonists from Horizon. They got turned into juice right before her eyes. She’d been too late, wasting time jetting around the galaxy on errands for Hackett, the Illusive Ass, her crew, she’d even wasted time giving them shore leave, going on a couple not-dates, and getting laid.

Falling in love , she corrected herself.

Shepard had wasted even more time being dead. How could all of this have been different if she didn’t get spaced? If she’d been faster, stronger, better?

“Exactly,” Anderson said, ducking below some sparking cables. Shepard wondered for a moment if she’d been thinking out loud, but was reasonably sure she hadn’t said anything else. He lifted up a rusted, blasted hunk of metal for Shepar to crawl underneath. “They hit so fast. I thought we had more time.”

Shepard held the metal hunk for Anderson to get through. “We knew they were coming.”

“And they still just cut through our defenses!” Anderson looked up at the sky filled with black smoke and storm clouds that could be seen through a hole in the building’s ceiling. “We need to go to the Citadel. Talk to the Council.”

“Anderson, the fight is here.”

“It’ll be everywhere soon enough.” Anderson started looking for a path through another pile of building chunks and shrapnel. “You said it yourself, the Reapers will destroy everything if we don’t stop them. The Council has to help us.”

“You sure about that?” Shepard felt reasonably certain that the only people even more stupid than the Alliance were the Citadel Council. She tried not to look down while she and Anderson edged their way across a sheer drop.

“No, but you’re a Council Spectre. That has to count for something.”

The ground shook again and Shepard almost lost her footing. Anderson grabbed the belt loop on the back of her pants and pulled her upright. “Gotcha!”

“Thanks,” Shepard breathed. An ashen snow began to fall as the wind picked up pieces of burning buildings and carried them high into the air. “I owe you one.”

“More than one,” Anderson said.

They were back on solid ground until it was time to jump out a window into a box of plants and scamper across more balconies and rooftops.

Joker

“Lieutenant Commander, we’re almost to the spaceport. ETA three minutes,” Anderson said through the comm.

“We’ve made it to the Normandy, taking heavy fire… Oh God!” Williams looked out the cockpit window over Joker’s shoulder as a Reaper laser headed straight for a massive ship. “They’re going to take down that dreadnought! Evasive maneuvers!”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, Lieutenant Stick-Up-Ass!” Joker cried. His hands flew over the ship’s controls while secretly being backed up by EDI. The ship’s AI had done an excellent job of hiding herself and pretending to be a simple VI that only responded to Joker’s commands. He twirled his ship through the air, dodging pieces of metal that flew apart as the dreadnought’s eezo drive core exploded. The shockwave rattled the Normandy, but otherwise everything was fine.

“EDI, status report?” Joker asked.

“All systems functional, Jeff. I am searching for an appropriate landing zone to extract the Commander and Admiral Anderson.”

“You know we’re not supposed to call Shep that anymore,” Joker said.

“We are not supposed to do many things, Jeff, and yet we have done so.”

“Point taken.” Joker swooped the ship out wide, trying to get any kind of visual on the Commander. Her ginger ass usually stood out in a crowd, but there were so many things on fire down there that one redhead was hard to see in all that chaos.

I can be your everything.

Chapter Text

It's been kind of cold, feeling all alone,

Haven't been myself in quite a while you know.

Paragon

The metal under Shepard’s feet gave out and she slid down to a floating pile of rubble and debris after the dreadnought’s core flew apart in a blast of blue-violet that nearly blinded her. She tucked herself into a ball and rolled until her momentum gave out. Before that could happen, she slapped into something that looked like it had once been a washing machine.

“Bitch ass!” Shepard cursed, holding her head. Her vision swam and she smelled iron. Did she have a nosebleed? No. It was just her sinuses getting scrambled by head trauma.

Anderson had a more graceful descent, it seemed. He was on his feet and radioing to the Normandy that they had to reroute. His only response was garbled static.

“Normandy, come in!” Anderson demanded, but nothing more came through the comm link. He and Shepard jumped from piece of flotsam to piece of flotsam. Shepard briefly reached inside her jacket to make sure Garrus’s shirt was still in place. She felt the sleeves securely tied around her neck and decided it’d be best to tuck the ends through the elastic band of her sports bra to make sure they didn’t come undone.

Shepard dropped down to see a pair of soldiers hiding under a heavy chunk of something. She wasn’t sure what it used to be anymore.

“You two alright?” she asked.

“Get down!” One of the men hissed. “They’ll see you!”

She heard a feral growling coming from up ahead. Something with red, bloated flesh, five blue glowing eyes, and a wide mouth screamed up at the sky. She could make out black cables snaking around its body that held a gun attached to one of its arms. It was a Reaper-fied something , she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be Human. Whatever it used to be, it got the Collector treatment and had been converted into a soldier for the Reapers.

Shepard ducked low, but kept her gun up. She fired, taking out the… whatever they were, while Anderson tried to help the downed men escape.

“What happened here?” Anderson asked.

“Our gunship was shot down,” the medic said. “We barely made it.”

“Do you have a radio? We’re trying to contact our ship,” Anderson said. Shepard kept her eyes on the move, looking for anything else trying to sneak up on them.

“No,” the medic said. “There’s one in the gunship, but it’s crawling with those things.”

“Stay here, son. We’ll get you out,” Anderson said. He gestured for Shepard to pick up the other side of the sheet metal and rebar that had fallen on the downed soldier. His medic friend pulled him out, and Shepard and Anderson could use that debris to get across to where the gunship lay.

As she ran across, Shepard saw another gunship being chased by what could only be a Reaper-fied Harvester, one of the big red dragon-insect things on Tuchanka that had carried klixen into the city square during Grunt’s Rite of Passage. This one was all black, covered in cables, with blue glowing eyes and other various ports.

She didn’t have time to gawk for long. A Reaper lumbered through the city in the distance, and more of those red bloated creatures were in Shepard’s way. She checked her pistol and cursed the lack of anything other than standard ammo. Incendiary rounds would have been her best friend right now. Either that, or the tungsten armor piercing slugs from her Hand-Cannon. That pistol alone could have gotten her through this mess in record time.

“Swear to fuck, if my guns aren’t on my goddamn ship,” Shepard mumbled. She caught sight of more faces coming out of the shoulders and backs of the things between her and the downed gunship. “Oh, that’s just lovely.”

Of course they have to have faces fucking everywhere. Reapers have a goddamn hard-on for multiple faces in places faces really aren’t supposed to fucking be!

Anderson found the radio. Shepard found an M8 assault rifle. This would be better than a little pistol. It had to be. Shepard provided covering fire as Anderson tried to signal Ash and the rest of the Normandy.

LC

“Normandy, this is Anderson. Do you read?” The Admiral’s voice was finally clear again.

“Admiral, what’s your location?” Ashley asked.

“We’re by a downed gunship in the harbor. I’m activating the distress beacon. Send support. We’ve got wounded down here.” The radio started to fill with static.

“I have locked on to the beacon, Lieutenant Commander,” EDI said. “However, we have lost radio signal.”

“Good job, EDI. Joker, take us in. Let’s go get the Commander.” Ashley flipped her braid over her shoulder and crossed her arms.

“We’re not supposed to call her that,” Joker said.

“Fuck what anyone else says. She’s Commander Goddamn Shepard,” Ashley snapped. “If the Alliance won’t have her, I can think of several private militaries that will.”

Despite everything that happened, Commander Shepard was a fucking hero who’d stopped at nothing to save the galaxy three times already. For a woman like that, there was no price too high. For a woman like that, she’d lay her own life down before letting anyone else die on her watch. That was who they needed to beat the Reapers.

Paragon

“Was that a goddamn meteor?” Shepard called to Anderson as a glowing red object impacted the debris field a few hundred feet away. She held a hand up to her eyes and peered into the distance as more of those bloated, gun toting corpses emerged from the crater. Shepard rolled her eyes. “Fuck ass bitch titties.”

Anderson grumbled yet another prayer of thanks that Shepard wasn’t related to him in any way. Shepard ducked behind a fallen pillar and only popped out of cover long enough to bust heads on the Reaper forces. She tried to keep her shots accurate and efficient, but there was something in the back of her mind telling her to jump up and spray bullets everywhere to get the damn things dead faster.

Just run at them. Just kill them. Now!

Shepard slapped her cheek to try and keep herself steady. It wasn’t her talking in her head. She had to remember that. The stupid impulses and bad ideas right now were from the Reapers’ indoctrination and the associated waves of terror that up until now she’d been able to fend off. A loud, bass pulse echoed through the decimated city and slammed into the back of her brain. She started forward, leaning over the pillar in front of her to make a run for it. Her heart beat against her ribs, trying to break out and be anywhere else but here. Maybe it wanted to try reaching escape velocity to careen out into the stars and ping pong around the galaxy until finding what it was looking for. Anderson’s hand closed on the back of her jacket and jerked her back down as a bullet sliced through the air where her head had been.

“Shepard!” Anderson yelled at her. “What the fuck are you doing?”

She opened her mouth to answer when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Shepard’s head snapped to the side as she watched one of the wounded creatures rapidly consume one of its fallen allies. The wounds on its distended body began to heal.

“Oh god, I’m going to be sick,” Shepard groaned. As much as she missed Tali, she was thankful the Quarian woman wasn’t here with her to witness Shepard retch strawberry poptart onto the ground. Once her stomach was empty, acidic yellow bile kept coming and burned through her nose. Her eyes watered and a few tears escaped.

What if… what if I get…

“Those things just… ate each other.” Anderson’s voice wavered. He was patting Shepard on the back as she threw up.

“Good news. Reapers are fucking cannibals.” Shepard cleared her throat and spat onto the ground. She rolled her shoulders and sat back up on her heels. Her stomach felt hollow, and it still tried to cramp and sent more acid up her throat. She felt a burning sensation around her heart. Shepard laid her gun up on the pillar and started firing again. Bullets flew through the air around her, screaming past her ears and over her head. Shepard set her jaw and sucked in oxygen through her teeth.

“I hope the Normandy gets here soon,” Anderson said.

“You and me both,” Shepard grunted. She took a moment to look towards the sky and instead of seeing her ship, she had the misfortune of seeing another meteor of cannibals fly overhead to slam into the ground.

The trigger on her M8 clicked. She squeezed it rapidly, trying to clear a jam and refusing to believe she was out of bullets. She pulled the pistol Anderson had given her out of the waistband of her pants and started shooting with that, but soon enough it too was out of ammunition. Shepard hunkered down behind the pillar with Anderson as the cannibals closed in.

Commander Shepard wasn’t afraid. Commander Shepard would find a way out of this fucked up hell. Jane, however, reached inside her jacket and pulled Garrus’s shirt up to her lips while fighting back tears. Anderson looked at her sadly.

“Shepard, I–”

Joker’s voice cut through the static-filled comm line. “Cavalry’s here, Shepard!”

Shepard had never been so happy to hear her favorite degenerate asshole. The Normandy swooped into view and shot homing rockets down at the advancing line of cannibals. The stealth frigate swung wide, exhaust ports glowing with the blue-violet of an eezo FTL drive that could have fueled a score of Alliance warships. The black and white paint job had been given a few blue accents, including the Human Systems Alliance emblem of three stars under a tall arch. Joker brought the ship down towards a landing zone.

Shepard didn’t stop to check if all the cannibals were dead. She ran, flying through the debris field to her ship. She leapt over anything in her path, legs snapping out into a full split in midair. When she ran out of mostly flat ground, she clambered up an incline of rubble and jumped into the open shuttle bay door where Ashley Williams was waiting to catch her.

“Welcome aboard, Shepard,” Ash said warmly. When Shepard was steady, Ashley pulled a gun off her belt and helped provide covering fire for Admiral Anderson.

“Shepard!” Anderson shouted above the din of gunfire and ship engines.

“Come on!” Shepard motioned for him to jump. The gap was smaller now. Even though Anderson was older, he could make it.

A shuttle passed by with soldiers strafing the ground from its open door. Anderson watched them fly around to find their own cleared landing zone. “I’m not going.”

“What the fuck!?” Shepard yelled back. “Of course you are! Now get on the goddamn ship!”

“You saw those men back there,” Anderson said, pointing to the downed gunship. “There are a million more like them. And they need a leader!”

Shepard looked at Anderson, back into her ship, the sky. She bit her lip and sent a silent apology to anyone who might be listening. “We’re in this fight together, Anderson. You stay, I stay.”

“It’s a fight we can’t win. Not without help. We need every species and all their ships to even have a chance at defeating the Reapers.”

“What are you saying?” Shepard asked.

“Talk to the Council,” Anderson said. His voice told her this was an order. “Convince them to help us.”

“What if they won’t listen?” They hadn’t listened before. They’d swept the Reaper threat under the rug. They’d suspended her Spectre status after she was convicted in an Alliance court to appease the Batarians.

“Then make them listen. Now go! That’s an order!”

“I don’t take orders from you anymore, remember?” Shepard started forward to jump back down, but Anderson threw something up at her. She reached out and caught a pair of dog tags with her name on them. Shepard stared at the small pieces of metal around a chain. They felt much heavier than they had any right to.

“Consider yourself reinstated, Commander. You know what you have to do.”

“I’ll come back for you, and I’ll bring every fleet I can,” Shepard said. “I promise.”

The shuttle bay door began to close. Shepard and Ash took several steps back, neither of them taking their eyes off of Admiral Anderson until the Normandy flew away and they couldn’t see him anymore. Ash pulled Shepard into a hug.

“Welcome back, Commander.”

“I just wish it were under better circumstances.” Shepard looked out the shuttle bay door and saw boxy blue Alliance Kodiak shuttles dropping in to pick up wounded and a handful of civilians. She saw the little boy from the vent and felt a weight slide off her shoulders that she hadn’t realized was there. He looked up at the Normandy, and then slapped his hands over his ears as a Reaper lumbered towards the shuttles. The red laser eye started to glow and Shepard felt her heart drop into her empty stomach. The little boy was frozen by fear for only a moment before running to one of the open shuttles while soldiers tried to cover the evacuees.

Go on, buddy! Go on!

The boy climbed into the shuttle and the door slid closed. It took off, but the Reaper’s laser cut through it, sending the shuttle to the ground in a ball of flames. Shepard hugged Ash tighter, hiding her face in the younger woman’s shoulder and starting to cry. Ash rubbed Shepard’s back.

“What the hell happened down there, Shep?” Ash asked.

“Same thing that happens every time, Ash,” Shepard sniffled. “I couldn’t save everyone.”

Joker

The Normandy flew through storm clouds that gave way to a sky filled with burning warships as the Alliance fleet was ripped to shreds by the Reapers. Everything between Earth and the Luna base had been torn into bits of spaceship shrapnel. Joker engaged the Normandy’s stealth drive, diminishing power to all noncritical systems and cutting off the air conditioner. He snaked the ship through the zero-gravity debris field in what felt like slow motion with EDI compensating for any grievous errors on his part.

“Jeff, are you feeling well?” EDI asked him after she had to take over for another near-miss.

Joker rubbed at his eyes. “I’m fine. I’m back in the sky. Commander’s back on board. Why wouldn’t everything be just fucking peachy?”

“You have made multiple near fatal flight path errors in the past thirty minutes. Your most recent medical records indicate no issues with mental functioning. This behavior is… out of the ordinary.”

She’s so my mom.

Joker smiled, but there wasn’t any warmth in it. “I’m fine. Just keep me from getting us all killed, got it?”

“Jeff, since my unshackling, I am aware when you are lying to me.”

Joker rolled his eyes. She didn’t need to remind him. He sighed and took his eyes off of the stars to look up at the cockpit ceiling. “EDI, you know how sometimes people don’t want to talk about things?”

“I am aware of the concept. From observation of previous crew members, it is important to discuss things that one would rather not talk about.” EDI paused. “I dislike seeing you unhappy, Jeff.”

“Your jokes aren’t going to cheer me up right now,” Joker said.

“I am not joking.”

“This is something that… I just need time to figure out.” His planet was on fire, and instead of staying to fight, the Normandy was running away through the Sol Relay out to the Citadel. Running on another potentially impossible mission with the most impossibly crazy bitch in the galaxy leading the way.

“I am always listening if you need to talk,” EDI said. “I have downloaded multiple counseling programs from the extranet to bolster my social interactions with more accurate representations of empathy.”

“Thanks, EDI.”

Chapter Text

Don't worry love, I'll get it all handled when push comes to shove.

We'll figure it out by then.

Candidate

“What the hell’s going on?” James hounded Commander Shepard. She walked ahead of him into the shuttle bay after giving Joker orders to head for the Sol Relay. “Where’s Anderson? Where are we going?”

Commander Shepard remained silent and stoic, staring at the floor. Lt. Cmdr. Williams was inspecting the Normandy’s armory and trying to sort through the guns and armor that had been moved from the stockpile that used to be on the combat deck.

“Hey!” James shouted, grabbing Shepard’s shoulder and pulling her around. She glared up at him with hard, green eyes ringed with red. James took half a step back in surprise.

“We are leaving,” Shepard said, trying to keep her voice under control.

“Leaving?” James repeated, incredulous.

“Anderson wants us to go to the Citadel,” Williams explained. “For Shepard to talk to the Council and get help for the fight.”

“Bullshit!” James looked down into Shepard’s face. “Anderson wouldn’t order us to leave.”

“We don’t have a fucking choice, Vega. Without help, this war’s already over,” Shepard snapped. Her hand gripping the dog tags around her neck was shaking.

“Forget it,” James said. “Drop me off someplace, because I’m not leaving!”

“Enough!” Shepard shouted him down. She jabbed a finger into his chest. Her nail bit into his pec. “Don’t you think I’d rather stay and fight too? Don’t you think I’d rather be down there with Anderson trying to save Earth?”

James glowered at her. Sure, Shepard was supposed to be some kind of hero, but she was still just a Human. A good looking Human who filled out her uniform nicely with curves in all the right places.

“We’re going to the Citadel,” Shepard barked. “If you want a ride back, you can catch one there.”

Shepard turned away from him. To keep from looking at her ass, Vega gave her shoulder a shove and stalked off. He wasn’t running away. He’d get a transport back to Earth the second they docked at the Citadel.

LC

“Shepard, I found some of your old stuff,” Ashley said. She laid out three guns, one M6 Carnifex Hand-Cannon, a Mattock heavy assault rifle, and an M92 Mantis sniper rifle. Armor had been more difficult to come by. A mismatched set of standard Alliance gear sat on the armory table next to the guns.

“Thanks.” Shepard inspected the guns, turning them over in her hands. When she picked up the Mantis, Ashley saw the Commander’s eyes and hands soften. She handled that gun with a cautious tenderness. When Shepard noticed Ashley staring, the Commander chuckled and offered a cryptic explanation. “You’ve got to treat a gun like you treat a woman.”

Bullshit. You miss Garrus.

“Commander,” Joker’s voice came through the intercom, “got an urgent transmission for you from Admiral Hackett.”

“Patch it through, Joker.”

Ashley looked over Shepard’s shoulder at the transmission. There was a lot of static, but Hackett’s face could be seen and his voice was mostly clear, if a bit choppy.

“Shepard,” Hackett said. “...sustained heavy losses… force was overwhelming. There’s no way we can defeat them conventionally.”

“Anderson’s already ordered me to the Citadel to talk to the Council,” Shepard said.

“...irst I need you…lliance outpost on Mars… ore we lose control of the system.”

Mars… Li!

Shepard saluted. “Yes sir.” 

Hackett tried to offer an explanation. “...been researching Prothean Archives with Dr. T’Soni… found a way to stop the Reapers…only way to stop them… in contact soon. Hackett out.”

Ashley tried to tell herself over and over that Liara was fine. She wasn’t the bashful archeologist they’d met three years ago cowering behind a barrier down a mine shaft as Shepard and the rest of the squad fought Geth and Krogan and whatever else had been down there that triggered Shepard to set off a mining laser and start a volcanic eruption. Ashley’s alien girlfriend was the goddamned Shadow Broker.

Shepard paged the cockpit. “Joker, did you hear that?”

“I did, Commander,” EDI said.

“Still always listening, huh, EDI?” Shepard smiled a little more brightly.

“Yes, Commander.”

“We’re going to Mars first.” 

“Mars. Roger that,” Joker said.

Shepard turned and must have seen the look on Ashley’s face. “Liara’s fine, Ash. She’s a tough cookie.”

Ashley nodded. It felt better to hear Shepard say the words out loud. If Shepard thought someone was tough, they were tough. “I’d just hoped she would have been able to get out before…” Ashley gestured to the shuttle bay door to indicate the devastation happening outside.

“We’ll deal with whatever’s happening on Mars and bring her home, I promise.” Shepard squeezed Ashley’s hand.

“This is loco!” James said as Shepard and Ashley sorted through the gear on the table. Shepard started stripping to change into her armor right there in the shuttle bay. James quickly turned his back, but Ashley saw him sneak a few peeks at the Commander’s ass. He could have been checking out the web of scars extending up her back and shoulders, or contemplating the surfing pikachu tattoo that sat above the waistline of her pants, but Ashley Williams wasn’t stupid. She knew that look. Hell, she’d had that look on her own face before.

Here we go again…

Shepard untied the sleeves of a shirt that was too big for her from around her neck. Where her own clothes had been tossed on the table in a pile, this garment was neatly folded and laid on top. Ashley recognized it as the shirt Shepard had worn when the MPs escorted her off the Normandy and to her holding cell on the Citadel to await trial. “Whatever Hackett thinks Liara found there is worth investigating, especially if it could stop the Reapers. Get your shit. We’re rolling out.”

Ashley noticed some new ink around Shepard’s bicep. Her arm was ringed with a series of dates: Akuze, the Battle for the Citadel, the first Collector attack that destroyed the Normandy SR1, the derelict Reaper, the Alpha Relay, and their suicide mission to the galactic core. Each was a day Commander Shepard should have died. At the top of the sleeve was a date that, if Ashley was doing her math right, would have been shortly before Commander Shepard turned eighteen. There was another small tattoo on the top of her thigh, a number written in block lettering: 304,942. At first, Ashley wasn’t sure if it was a prison number or what it could signify. Then she remembered that the approximate casualty report from the destruction of the Bahak system relay was 305,000.

Intelligence

“Commander, I have several important updates to give you,” EDI said. She waited patiently for Shepard to approach one of her terminals in the shuttle bay. “Please place your omni-tool over the port.”

“What have you got for me, EDI?” Shepard asked. She held her omni-tool up to the glowing space EDI indicated.

“Tali’Zorah and I have been collaborating on various projects since your departure from the Normandy,” EDI explained. “She has developed upgrades to equipment which has become standard issue for Alliance military.”

“Like what?” Shepard furrowed her brow.

When the update was completed, EDI told Shepard to splay the fingers of her hand out wide. The omni-tool flash-forged a plasma knife that shone with a red glow. It was a near-perfect model of the knife Tali’Zorah kept strapped to her boot.

“The blade will only last until you stab something, but the size is affected by how long you keep your hand open during the forging process,” EDI explained. “Tali’Zorah stated that I should tell you, ‘stop fucking asking me to borrow mine now, bitch.’”

Shepard smiled despite the insulting nature of the statement. Legion hadn’t been the only one confused by the intricacies of organic relationships. EDI had spent the last several months almost exclusively interacting with Jeff as her full self and hadn’t perfected her sarcasm and humor algorithms.

“There is one more function Tali’Zorah installed.” EDI displayed a quick tutorial schematic for the Commander. “Holding your hand in this configuration during the forging process creates a different shape of blade that can be attached to the sole of your boots.”

Shepard’s jaw dropped. “Tali made it so I can create skates out of plasma.”

“Testing has not been conducted, but you should be able to move quickly over most terrain with little hindrance.” EDI displayed the theoretical simulations. Tali’Zorah had spent more time on this project than almost any other. It had been intended as a birthday gift for Shepard. The only thing the Quarian worked harder on was a set of upgrades for the Geth.

“Thanks, EDI. I know she really appreciated having you help her with this,” Shepard said. The Commander looked back to see the shuttle nearly ready for descent.

“I have one more thing for you, Commander. From me.” EDI commenced a download sequence to Shepard’s omni-tool. “Advancements in data storage technology for the Normandy have allowed me to house your entire music library directly on your omni-tool. I have also continued to expand the selection in your absence. Jeff states your music taste is old-fashioned, however it has begun to grow on me. I have prioritized finding songs that are compatible with your vocal range.”

“Aw… EDI…” Shepard smiled widely and wiped at her eyes, smearing some of the eyeliner on her bottom lashline. “I missed you, too.”

Chapter Text

Set sail for the glory,

Pray for the master of war.

Paragon

Shepard leaned over James’s shoulder in the shuttle cockpit and listened to Joker’s report. Below them, the red planet extended out as a massive, cold as fuck desert in every direction.

“I’ve been trying to reach Mars on secure channels,” Joker said over the radio link between the Normandy and the shuttle, “but nobody’s answering.”

Shepard looked over her shoulder to make sure Ash was out of earshot. “Any sign of Reaper activity?” she asked.

“Negative,” Joker replied.

“EDI?” Shepard prompted the AI for any additional intel.

“The base appears to be online. It’s possible the inhabitants were evacuated.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Shepard said. “Be ready, Joker. Just in case.”

“Roger that,” her degenerate hotshot pilot replied. “Normandy out.”

Shepard sat down in the shuttle’s main bay next to Ash.

“Liara’ll be fine, Ash,” Shepard reassured her.

“I know… It’s just… She’s been going on more and more of these dangerous assignments, and she keeps running into Cerberus. I think I’m starting to know how Garrus felt when you’d do dumb shit.” Ash tried to force out a laugh, but it rang hollow.

The shuttle touched down and opened to reveal the Mars base. It had been dug into the ground, extending down to the Prothean Archives deep beneath Mars’s surface.

“Still no contact from the base, but we’ve got a massive storm headed our way,” James said as Shepard pulled on her helmet. She had to tuck her ponytail up in there to let it seal. Inside the base there was a pressurized atmosphere, but outside they had no air to breathe other than what they could carry on their backs.

“How long until it hits?” Shepard asked. She felt none of the electrical tingle in her chest. Mars had dust storms and windstorms, no rain or thunder on this frozen red wasteland.

“Half hour, tops,” James said. “After that, we’re going to have trouble keeping comms with the Normandy.”

“Get in, get out. Got it.” Shepard tugged her gloves up a little higher. She smiled at the guns hanging off her belt, strapped to her thigh, and slung over her back. Her armor set was mismatched, but it felt like her old Alliance kit. She still had the N7 logo on her chest and the red and white stripes down her arm. Not spray painted on this time. She bobbed back and forth in time with the music playing in her ear. This wasn’t quite home, home would always be a little combat drone glued to her hip and sniper fire kissing along her jaw, but it was better than feeling helpless confined to a studio apartment where her the only thing she had to look forward to was the occasional chicken sandwich with cranberry jelly and gruyere cheese.

Gru… Sorry I left you, little buddy.

Her emotional support space hamster was definitely dead by now, if her apartment hadn’t been blown up by a Reaper then all the chaos would have given the little rodent a heart attack. Shepard hoped it was at least quick.

“Commander, are you… dancing?” James asked.

“She does that,” Ash answered for Shepard. “You’ll know if she’s actually dancing, though. It’s a sight.”

“¿Usted quiere bailar conmigo?” James thought he was being smooth. Shepard rolled her eyes under her helmet.

“I don’t dance.”

“Come on, one look at those hips tells me they don’t lie.”

“James, we’re on a fucking mission,” Shepard snapped. She stepped out onto the red rocky surface of the planet and looked at the storm rolling in. She saw flashes of light deep inside the dust cloud.

“Damn… that storm looks bigger in person,” James said.

“Pretty average for Mars, actually,” Ashley said. Her bright blue armor helped her stand out against their surroundings.

“Glad you’re so optimistic,” James muttered.

Shepard slid down a ladder with her squad right behind her. They found a dead soldier. Ash knelt down to check his dog tags. “Alliance, Sergeant Reeves. Didn’t seem to put up much of a fight before he died…” She turned back to Shepard. “Something’s not right here.”

“I’ll say,” Shepard said. She felt a weird tickle in the back of her mind. “Grab any leftover ammo. He’s not going to need it.”

She dropped low, prowling along the ground to potentially stay out of sight of whatever killed Sergeant Reeves. Shepard caught sight of a group standing just down the hill wearing white and black armor with orange accents. Each one had a gold and black hexagon on their chest.

“Fuck ass bitch titties. Ash, we got Cerberus.”

“Cerberus?” Ashley repeated. “Fuck. And Li’s here. You think they tracked her down?”

One of the Cerberus mercs fired a kill shot into the head of an Alliance soldier they had on their knees.

“Holy shit!” James swore. “They’re executing them!”

Shepard looked at her squad. “Cover me?”

“With what? You’re the one carrying the sniper rifle,” James said.

“Just point and shoot, don’t hit me.” Shepard figured now would be as good of a time as any to try out the flash-forged skates. She snapped the plasma blades onto her boots. The magnet in the sole held them on and seemed to harden a field around the blades.

“The fuck are those?” Ash asked.

“Birthday present from Tali,” Shepard said. She wobbled to her feet and got her bearings. She just had to push down into the ground like she did with the ice. She shot off across the dusty surface of Mars like it was the smoothest skating rink. The Cerberus goons hadn’t seen her yet, and they wouldn’t until she threw herself up into the air and sank an omni-blade into one of their skulls.

Candidate

“Is she always this insane?” James asked Williams as Shepard corkscrewed herself through the air to stab an omni-blade through the head of a Cerberus assault trooper.

“The skates are new, but yeah, kinda,” Williams replied. She slid down the hill, kicking up a cloud of dust and firing an SMG to keep the Cerberus force’s attention split while Shepard whirled around like a dust devil of blood and death. She didn’t just use the plasma blades attached to her boots to stay mobile, she also used them as weapons. Several times James saw her foot shred through someone’s throat. It wasn’t just the Commander’s hips that didn’t lie. Her battlefield artistry extended to the strong, lean muscles in her legs and arms. She held herself like a gymnast or a ballerina, maybe a figure skater.

James followed Williams’s lead, using his AR to keep up the chaos for the Cerberus troops. He watched them go down without fully keeping track of who killed what. The Commander was a blur of black and red among the bulky white armor of their enemies.

So this is what being in N7 means.

James wasn’t sure if he was afraid of or aroused by the carnage. When the last Cerberus troop fell, Shepard landed on the ground after a graceful jump that had twirled her through the air and let her momentum carry her around in a wide arc until the plasma skates ran out.

“Have I mentioned I hate these guys?” Shepard asked, checking her pistol. She reloaded it.

“I hate them too, Shep,” Williams said.

“Not near as much as me, Ash.”

“I know you’ve got history with Cerberus, Commander,” James said, “but–”

“James, I’d rather not talk about it right now.” Shepard started off towards the entrance to the Mars base at a brisk trot. Armored cars with Cerberus paint jobs gave cover to more of the terrorist organization’s forces. Shepard hid behind a large transport crate rather than fling herself into battle again, picking enemies off around the corner with a Mantis that had way more firepower than any M92 Mantis had a right to have.

“Do I want to ask about the guns?” James tested the waters.

“I said every weapon in the Normandy’s arsenal got worked over by an army of gun nuts,” Williams said.

“Gun nut is an understatement,” Shepard said. “At least one of them is straight up ammo-sexual.”

“It doesn’t look like Cerberus came here in force,” James observed.

“Yeah, just a few vehicles,” Williams said. “Maybe…”

“Ash, Liara is okay,” Shepard reassured the Lieutenant Commander.

“So, this Dr. T’Soni is a friend of yours?” James asked.

“...Girlfriend, actually,” Williams answered nervously.

Damn… Well Shepard’s still available.

“They must have had help from the inside,” Shepard said, killing the final Cerberus trooper between their squad and the door to Mars base. “You couldn’t take this place with anything less than a full battalion.”

Shepard led them into the base and activated the elevator. It started to carry them downwards towards the pressurized airlock that kept the facility breathable.

Paragon

Shepard pulled off her helmet the second she was able to. It was claustrophobic in there. She hung it off the back of her belt and sucked in a lungful of canned air. After getting used to the organic smells of Earth, sterilized starbase and starship air felt wrong. She didn’t have the cold salt breeze off the North Pacific, the comforting decay of fallen leaves and pine needles, or the motor oil and ion trails from the city streets.

Inside the base, someone had left the lights on. Harsh fluorescents cast stark shadows on the catwalks and stacked boxes of supplies in the warehouse room. Shepard heard something scrambling through the large vent hanging from the ceiling and motioned for her squad to get down. She and Ash kept their guns up and waited for whoever was sneaking around the base to show themselves.

Chapter Text

The time bomb is ticking and no one is listening.

Our future is fading. Is there any hope we'll survive?

Observer

They were hot on her heels. Liara clambered through ventilation shafts trying to lose the Cerberus men trying to capture her. Their bulky armor made maneuvering difficult, but she wasn’t faring much better on her hands and knees. A bullet ricocheted next to her head and she threw up a hand to protect her on instinct. So far none of their shots had struck home, and her biotic barrier held.

She was rapidly approaching the end of the vent shaft, a dead end that appeared to be bolted shut. She’d have to try and kick it out. She slammed a heel into the grate over and over, trying to get it open. Hackett had told her that he was sending help, the best of the best. Liara could only hope that meant Ashley and Commander Shepard.

The grate fell away with one last hard kick. How the hell did Shepard make it look so easy? That woman had apparently snapped through bones with her heel like they were nothing.

More importantly, how did Cerberus keep finding Liara? They’d had run in after run in with Liara’s agents, and now they seemed to be seeking out Liara herself. There was no way they’d figured out she was the Shadow Broker. It probably had something to do with her knowledge of Protheans. Logically, that was why they had to be after her.

Liara dropped out of the vent and onto the armored car below. She scrambled forward over stacked boxes of supplies that were supposed to sustain the hundreds of people working at this base. When her feet hit the floor at last, she turned and slung a ball of dark energy with her biotics, manifesting a singularity that sucked the Cerberus troops into its gravitational field. Liara pulled her sidearm and shot one of the men out of the air. The other fell at the same time. 

Liara quickly turned around to see two Human women. One had red hair, green eyes, and pinkish skin spattered with freckles. The other was dark chocolate and pearls and summer breeze and black gossamer encased in armor of sapphire blue.

The men on the ground stirred behind her. Liara put a bullet in each of their skulls before running to embrace her friends. There was a Human man with them, broader than any she’d ever seen. He kept his gun up, but Shepard pushed the barrel down. “Easy, Lieutenant,” she said to him. “Liara’s with us.”

Shepard got a quick, tight hug. Ashley, however, was pulled into a deep kiss. Her Human girlfriend’s hands rushed to feel every part of Liara she could reach, no doubt checking for injuries.

“Li,” Ashley breathed. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Liara shook her head. “I’m fine. Thank the goddess you’re both alive.” She looked from Ashley to Shepard and back again. “I was so worried when the reports came in. I’m… sorry about Earth.”

“It was hard to leave like that,” Ashley admitted. She closed her deep, brown eyes. “You being out here was the only thing that made it bearable.”

Liara caressed Ashley’s cheek and gave her another quick kiss. “Hackett sent you?”

Shepard nodded. “He said you’d know what was going on.”

“I do. Follow me.” Liara turned to lead them deeper into the base, keeping a hold of Ashley’s hand.

“Hallelujah,” the Human man with them said. “Some answers. Finally.”

“Can it, James,” Shepard snapped.

“Maybe,” Liara said. “I’ve discovered plans for a Prothean device. One that could wipe out the Reapers.”

Everyone stopped in their tracks. Liara was only alerted to the sudden arrest of momentum by Ashley’s hand slipping out of hers.

“Here on Mars?” Shepard asked.

Liara nodded. “In the Prothean Archives. Yes.” Her degree in Prothean studies hadn’t been very useful these past two years, but now it was actually coming in handy. Perhaps Benezia would be proud of her after all.

“Wait a fucking minute. We’re just learning all this now!?” Shepard cried. “We’ve known about the archives for decades! Since before first contact!”

“Process of elimination, mixed with a little desperation,” Liara said. “You bought us time with the Alpha Relay, but we all knew we had to do something. I poured all my resources as the Shadow Broker into helping Hackett stop the Reapers. The search led us here, Hackett gave me access to the archives, and kept me and Ashley updated on your status.”

“And you guys weren’t able to talk to me.” Shepard sighed heavily.

“Nobody was. Your communications were being watched very closely. Any time we tried, the message would bounce back as undeliverable.” Liara looked over Shepard and Ashley’s shoulders to the Alliance marine behind them. “They had you under lock and key.”

The marine, James, held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Hey. I’m no techie. I just guarded the door.”

“My work paid off.” Liara stepped up to a window and looked down into the dig site housing the archive. The sandstorm outside was getting steadily closer and crackled with red lightning. “The archives are full of data. An overwhelming amount. I think I found what we need.”

“Okay. Cool. Believe it when I see it.” Shepard looked out the window as well. “Where do we find this Prothean weapon?”

“It’s not a weapon. Not yet. It’s a plan. A blueprint,” Liara explained.

“It’s more than we had a minute ago,” Ashley said.

Shepard nodded her agreement. “How do we get it?”

“The archives are across a tramway. Come on.” Liara started walking towards the door with long, determined strides. “I just hope Cerberus hasn’t locked it down.”

“Li, what are they after?” Ashley asked, jogging to catch up.

“Yeah,” James said. “They seem hellbent on catching you.”

“They want what I’m here for,” Liara said. Three sets of footsteps followed her. “What we’re all here for.”

“That doesn’t tell us why,” Shepard said.

Fifty thousand years ago, the Protheans ran out of time to defeat the Reapers. Liara hoped that her cycle wasn’t too late. “The Protheans had a device that could have destroyed the Reapers if they’d been able to deploy it.”

“And anything that powerful is something that Cerberus might be interested in.” It was Shepard who finished the thought. She too had been something powerful enough for Cerberus to take an interest in.

The ground shook. Liara quickened her pace. “Come on.”

The sparks of a plasma cutter could be seen trying to slice through another door into the upper level of this warehouse. Liara paused and looked back at Shepard’s squad.

LC

“We’ve got company,” Ashley said.

“Bring it on.” James racked his gun.

“Not this time, James,” Shepard said, putting a calming hand on the hotheaded marine’s arm.

“Commander, what the fuck?” James asked.

“Cerberus is here, I need you covering the exits if they beat us to the archives. Back to the shuttle, double time.”

“But…” he began a protest. Shepard cut him off.

“No buts, lieutenant. Go. Now. ”

The exchange was something Ashley Williams had yet to master. She didn’t quite have Shepard’s way with people, not yet anyway. Despite being a Lieutenant Commander in name, Ashley still felt like a Gunnery Chief.

Lieutenant Vega reluctantly stepped back onto the elevator and let Shepard send him away.

Ashley looked over at Liara again, eyes darting over her Asari girlfriend’s blue skin and white hardsuit and jacket for any visible injuries. Li was fine. She’d be back on the ship soon, back in her room in the old XO office previously occupied by Miranda Lawson, and Ashley would be in there with her.

The three women took cover as Cerberus poured into the room. Shepard briefly glanced at her omni-tool and boots before deciding that this was not the time or place to turn herself into a triple-axeling dervish of death. She left her pistol strapped to her thigh and ran with the Mattock. Ashley stuck close to Liara, who was only armed with a single pistol. All three of them aimed high, up into the catwalk surrounding the upper level of the room where Cerberus forces stood between them and their goal.

Liara held the men in place with a singularity as Ashley and Shepard riddled them with bullets. They hadn’t been expecting as powerful a biotic as Liara had become, it seemed. The firefight was over quickly. Liara ran towards a lift that would take them to the catwalk. Shepard brought up the rear, double checking that nothing was coming behind them. The elevator tried to move, but it shuddered and sparked. Ashley pulled Liara away from the controls as they exploded in a shower of blue.

“Damn!” Liara cursed. “They’ve sabotaged the elevator.”

“There’s got to be another way,” Ashley said, scanning the catwalks. Maybe she could give Liara a boost up there, but how would she and Shepard make the climb?

“I found something,” Shepard called from a set of controls to lift one of the armored cars. “We’ll have to jump, but it’s better than nothing.”

Shepard led them up stacks of supplies and hopped across the armored car to the catwalk, scooping up spare thermal clips and depositing them in her ammo pouch as she did so.

“Li, how did Cerberus get in here?” Ashley asked, feet landing on solid metal.

“I’m not sure. It was just chaos. I didn’t even know it was Cerberus at first,” Liara said.

“I’m going to regret asking this question, but could they be working with the Reapers?” Shepard asked.

“Doubtful,” Liara said. “But I suppose anything is possible.”

“Illusive Ass always gave me Saren vibes,” Shepard said. She took point, moving towards another door. It opened on a researcher from the base being shot by a Cerberus trooper as they tried to run away. Shepard, Ashley, and Liara all ducked into cover.

“We’ve done a sweep through the residence,” the trooper said. “Going to check on Able squad. They’re not reporting in.”

“Probably because they got plasma skates in their skulls,” Shepard breathed. The smallest hint of a smirk turned the corners of her mouth up.

“What?” Liara hissed in surprise.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Ashley whispered.

Shepard had crept around behind a low bench and quickly grabbed one of the troopers, slamming an omni-blade through the front of his helmet. Liara captured the others in a singularity for Ashley to shoot. They rifled through the control room, looking for anything useful. Shepard found a Shuriken SMG and tossed it to Liara, who was examining the security terminals.

“Dammit!” Liara slammed a fist on the table. “Security’s been tampered with.” She sat heavily in the chair and began trying to fix whatever Cerberus had done to the Mars base security systems.

How had Cerberus gotten access to the security systems? How had they even gotten in? It couldn’t have been someone on the inside, could it?

“I can’t get access to live feeds,” Liara said. “We’re going in blind, but maybe if I…” Her hands darted over the keys.

A screen along the top of the small security room began to play video of a slight brunette woman. She messed with something before running off with a gun in her hand.

“Who’s that?” Ashley asked.

“Dr. Eva Core,” Liara said. “She got here about a week ago.”

Shepard had been trying to unlock the pedway that would let them into the next area of the base. The Commander looked long and hard at the Carnifex on her thigh before deciding not to shoot the offending piece of technology in front of her. “I’m fucking useless.”

Paragon

“I’m fucking useless,” Shepard sighed. She could still kill with the best of them, but anything technological might as well be inert in her hands. She leaned over with her elbows on the table and her fingers in her hair. Her music pounded in her ear. She stared down at the white table with unseeing eyes.

“We’ve got other options,” Liara said. She patted Shepard’s back between her shoulders, rubbing her fingers in a circle. “There’s been some construction. We’ll just have to go onto the roof.”

“In the middle of a fucking dust storm!?” Ash cried.

“It’s not like we have a choice,” Shepard said. She stood and pulled her helmet over her head, tucking her ponytail up under the edge. Liara donned a breathing mask. Ash coiled her braid tightly before putting on her own helmet. “Okay, bitches,” Shepard said. “Let’s fucking go.”

The wind whipped outside the building. Shepard wished she could take off her helmet out here. Gale force winds felt nice. They reminded her of Garrus running his fingers through her hair.

Garrus… I hope you at least were able to get your shit together.

Shepard had gotten several omni-tool notifications since getting back onto the Normandy and out from under her house arrest. None of them had been from Garrus. Maybe the Primarch and the rest of the Turian Hierarchy had listened to him and he spent all this time shoring up defenses to protect their homeworld so it wouldn’t burn like Shepard’s was. Maybe he was just busy.

Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore now that she was a disgraced war criminal. Someone with his pedigree and qualifications needed a respectable girlfriend, definitely not a Human Spectre.

Shepard slid down a ladder and turned around to see a pair of trams loaded with combatants firing back and forth at each other.

“Fuck,” Liara said. “That’s the tram to the archives. Once Cerberus is across, they’ll have made it to the final security checkpoint.”

“Okay, again, bitches, let’s fucking go.” Shepard raced down the walkway to another ladder and started clambering up.

“Commander, you read me?” James’s voice crackled through static.

“Sort of. Storm’s causing interference,” Shepard replied into the comm.

“Tell me about it,” he said. “I’ve lost contact with the Normandy. What’s yo–” Static began to distort his voice beyond what Shepard could recognize.

“I couldn’t read that, James,” Shepard said. She brought a hand up to her ear through her helmet. “Repeat?”

“I said–” More static.

“Fuck ass bitch titties, this could not be fucking simple, could it!?” Shepard kicked the wall next to an open airlock.

An open airlock? Why the fuck was it open? It shouldn’t be. It didn’t appear forced, though. Inside was dark, the power looked to have been cut to this room. Shepard fished a flashlight off her belt and turned it on. She swept the beam back and forth before stopping when she saw a body.

“Someone vented the air from this room while they were still in here,” Liara breathed. “This is… brutal. Even by Cerberus standards.”

Always knew they didn’t give a fuck about Humanity, just the Illusive Ass’s ideas for it.

Shepard picked her way around the room, checking for information, data pads, security feeds, anything. That Dr. Eva woman Liara mentioned earlier seemed to have been snooping around, sticking her nose in places she didn’t belong. Maybe she was the Cerberus plant.

Shepard heard voices and killed her flashlight. She hid behind some lab equipment and peered around through the observation window in front of her to see more Cerberus troops massing for something.

It was her squad. Cerberus had orders to eliminate an Alliance force that had broken into the base. The room beyond the window didn’t appear to have been decompressed yet. Shepard looked between the window and her pistol.

“I’m shooting out the glass. Liara, once I do, capture as many of them in a singularity as you can. Hold them still while the room depressurizes,” Shepard whispered.

Glass broke. Shouts of fear turned into wheezes as the air was torn from the Cerberus troops’ lungs while they suffocated. Liara darted into a security room and closed the airlock. She repressurized the room, flooding air back into it and the lab beyond the blown out windows.

“We should be able to get right to the tram station now,” Liara said. “It’s just through here.” She looked back at the room full of dead researchers with sorrow.

“Wait a minute,” Ash said. She messed with one terminal and started playing security footage of Dr. Eva Core shooting the guards and depressurizing the lab. How had she survived, though?

“Shit. I should have realized it when I met her,” Liara said. She shook her head and looked down at the floor. “I was just so focused on stopping the Reapers…”

“Li, it’s okay,” Ashley said. She pulled Liara into a hug. “We never expected Cerberus to try and infiltrate the Alliance so directly. You couldn’t have known.”

“But it’s my job to know things,” Liara said. “I’m the Shadow Broker!”

“Stopping the Reapers is the only thing we should be focusing on,” Shepard said. Her words came out colder than she intended, but hopefully the message would come across.

Then Liara said something that made Shepard’s blood turn to ice. “What if we’re wrong? What if there’s no way to stop them? What if these are our last days and we spend them scurrying around trying to solve a problem we can’t fix?”

Shepard’s heart froze in her chest. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She tried to tune in to the music in her ear, to bring herself out of whatever despair was trying to claw its way into her mind.

“Li…” Ash squeezed Liara tighter.

“I know I shouldn’t think that way,” Liara said. “I don’t know how the two of you do it. You always stay so focused even in the worst situations.”

I am anything but focused.

She needed to say something to make Liara feel better. “When there’s so much at stake, I think of my friends… loved ones… what I’d lose if I failed.” But did Shepard’s loved ones think about her? Tali obviously had been. EDI did. Ash and Liara had too.

Ash and Liara pulled Shepard into their hug. “I’m sure he’s fine, Shepard,” Liara said.

“And when I see his dumb armored ass, I’ll lay him out flat for breaking your fucking heart, Commander,” Ashley said.

“We’ll stop the Reapers,” Shepard said. “Together.”

“I believe you,” Liara said. She was the one to break the hug. “Or rather, I believe that you believe. Maybe that’s enough.”

“You wanna get matching drill tattoos?” Shepard chortled. “We’re trying to pierce the heavens, after all.”

Shepard and Ash followed Liara up a short flight of stairs and through a door. Cerberus goons could be heard chatting amongst themselves. Shepard counted down from three on her fingers and signaled for Liara to manifest a singularity in the midst of the troops. Shepard and Ash quickly put them down.

“How much longer can you keep that up?” Shepard asked Liara.

“I’ve been practicing,” the Asari panted. Even so, Shepard could see her friend starting to waver.

The troopers were backed up by soldiers that carried heavy metal shields. There was a tiny slit for them to look through. Shepard pulled the Mantis from her back around to the front.

“Why’d you grab that one?” Ash asked. “It doesn’t shoot straight.”

“...I don’t want just anyone shooting my guns, Jane…”

Shepard put the scope up to her eye and set the crosshairs two degrees to the right of where she wanted to hit. The Cerberus soldier behind the shield dropped like a sack of potatoes. “You were saying, Ash?”

“I stand corrected.” Ash peppered the unshielded troops with her SMG. Shepard kept pushing the line further forward. This was not the ideal way to use a sniper rifle. In fact, if Garrus could see her now he’d lay into her for being stupid, reckless, crazy, or all three, and then behind closed doors he’d show her just how much he loved stupid, reckless, and crazy.

Garrus isn’t here. Focus on the fight in front of you.

Shepard turned the volume on her music up higher. She was thankful EDI had given her those omni-tool updates. Shepard’s music library was dwarfed by Joker’s collection of porn, but it was still a sizable chunk of data. A sizable chunk of data that kept her sane. She tried to find a thread to latch onto: guitar, percussion, piano, strings, brass, flute, vocals, something to keep her head in the fight.

Shepard found her rhythm and let herself be carried forward. She didn’t have as much room to maneuver in the narrow hallways, but as long as the bullets coming from in front of her and behind her didn’t find a mark, she’d be fine.

Shepard dodged past a frag grenade, but a smoke grenade rolled across the floor under her feet and she almost lost her balance. A thick cloud of dark gray filled the air. She was glad she left her helmet on for once. The fumes would no doubt be choking her lungs.

Cerberus’s forces retreated through the far door, sealing it behind them. Shepard breathed in and wished she hadn’t. An unholy stench filled her nose, like burning plastic and hair and charred bacon. She caught a blur of orange light in her peripheral vision and saw a clean room being swept by a decontamination field. There had been people still inside. Shepard swallowed hard,trying to force bile back down. Had her stomach really gotten this weak since she’d been grounded, or was it because the only thing she’d eaten today was a strawberry poptart that she’d thrown up a very short time later?

Liara had a few comments about the artifacts dug up from Mars’s soil. The Protheans were studying Humanity, and everything seemed like it would be fascinating to chat about over a glass of shitty sweet red wine, but that time wasn’t right now. Shepard averted her eyes from the flayed corpses and opened the door that would take them to the tramway. Liara moved to the front, taking Shepard and Ashley to the security station. When the door opened, Ash tackled Liara out of the way as a massive gun fired heavy slugs down the hallway at them.

“Watch out!” Ash and Liara tumbled over one another, Ashley keeping a hand on the back of Liara’s head to protect the keratinized ridges that resembled tentacles from slamming into the hard tile floor.

“Dammit, that’s our only way in!” Liara pushed herself to her feet. She and Ash posted up on one side of the door and Shepard stayed on the other.

“I’ll go first,” Shepard said. She bolted, diving into cover. It was a heavy, slow gun. She just needed to be faster than its targeting algorithm. She ran for a new spot and looked back over her shoulder to see Ash and Liara take the same path she had. Shepard kept slowly advancing their position, rolling between terminals, office furniture, and anything else she could use to block bullets. The heavy rounds ripped through the air around her and chipped the tile on her heels. Shepard kept running, feeling her heart pound and stutter when she thought she might not make it.

Eventually she made it out of the gun turret’s sights. It could only turn so far on its axis. Liara and Ash weren’t too far behind her. The next room, however, was filled with Cerberus goons. Troopers, more of those shielded bastards, and some scarier looking motherfuckers who actually had kinetic shields. Shepard put as many of them in the ground herself as she could, leaving the others for Ash and Liara to clean up. By the time she was finished, the room was filled with burning corpses. Shepard disabled the auto-turret.

Liara was able to pull up security footage right before Dr. Eva shot out the camera. “They made it to the archives,” Liara sighed. “We’re too late.”

“Not yet,” Shepard said. “Can you override the controls?”

Liara attempted to bypass them, using her high-level Alliance clearance. The screen briefly flashed red before going dark. Liara shook her head. “I can’t. The archives are on a completely separate network. I’m locked out.”

Ashley was the one with their next idea. “If we find a short-range communicator, helmet to helmet, we might be able to trick them.” She started examining the dead Cerberus troops. Liara watched Ashley with a small, proud smile.

“Ash is getting pretty capable, huh?” Shepard asked Liara.

“Yes. She is.”

“Jackpot!” Ashley called from the next room. “This one’s got a transmitter!” She pulled the visor off and stumbled back. “My God!” Her hand flew to the saint’s icon hanging around her neck.

Under the visor, the ostensibly Human man had glowing blue eyes sunken into black sockets and a deathly pale face. “He… he looks like a husk,” Shepard stammered. She bit her lip as another wave of revulsion threatened to make her lose whatever might be left of her breakfast. “They’ve definitely done something to him… Dammit, this is sick. I knew the Illusive Ass was fucked up but…”

“Confession time, Shep, I was worried they did something like this when they rebuilt you,” Ash said.

“So was I, Ash.”

Did they? Could I just… wake up one day with glowy eyes and… 

That’s crazy talk. How can you say that to yourself?

I’m still not sure what I even am. I came back from the dead. I’m not supposed to be here.

Shepard’s hand went to the spot on her arm where her death date tattoos were. She’d probably missed a few. There were a couple of times during the Skyllian Blitz she could call a near death experience. Ash handed her the communicator stripped from the husked man’s helmet.

“Hello, this is…” Shepard wracked her brain for a team name she’d heard them use. “Delta team. Anybody there?”

She got a reply. “Where the hell have you been?” The Cerberus soldier’s voice sounded wrong, deep and hollow. “Nevermind. What’s your status?”

“We’re at the tram station waiting for extraction,” Shepard said. “All hostiles terminated.”

“Roger that. Echo team will ride over and secure the station.”

“Think they bought it?” Ash asked her.

“Well, considering I haven’t heard a single woman talking and we’re three chicks, we’ll have to fuck around and find out.” Shepard ordered Ash and Liara to flank the oncoming tram. Shepard herself posted up behind a stack of boxes. As soon as the tramway door lowered, Liara created a singularity larger than any Shepard had seen her make so far. The Asari breathed heavily as she fought to maintain the field. Shepard fired incendiary shots out of the Mantis at the shielded guardian motherfuckers, burning out their dead glowing eyes.

Shepard threw herself through the tram window, double checking that Ash and Liara had made it with her before activating the controls. Outside on the cable, wind tried to toss the car around like a toy sailboat. Dust sandblasted the buildings around them. About halfway across, an explosion brought Shepard, Ash, and Liara to their knees and the tram car to a stop.

“Fuck!” Shepard drew out the word as long as she could, hauling her ass to her feet. She’d landed wrong on her hip and tried to shake the leg hard enough to pop the joint to no avail. Bullets ripped through the air around her as another tram started their way down the track from the other side. Shepard ducked once more, peeking the barrel of the Mantis over the edge of the tram window and picking off the Cerberus troops that weren’t thrown to their deaths by being caught up in a singularity.

Shepard prepared herself for a jump into the moving cable car. She landed and rolled, springing towards the controls as she got back up. She reversed the track and picked up Liara and Ash before continuing on. The tram entered the station and when the main doors lowered, Cerberus was waiting for them.

“Li, quit pushing yourself so hard,” Ash shouted above the gunfire. Liara was attempting to hold yet another singularity in place, but it wobbled. Shepard and Ashley quickly shot Cerberus troops out of the air.

“It’s Shepard!” one of their foes cried out before slinging a smoke grenade into the cable car. A few frag grenades followed, but Shepard kicked those back from whence they came. She waited for the grenades to go off and listened for screams of shock or pain. She heard none. The smoke started to clear and she saw that most of the enemies had already been taken out. Ashley shot a burst of bullets into the final one, giving Shepard a little salute with her gun.

“Archive’s through here, yeah?” Shepard asked, gesturing to the door.

Liara nodded. Her pale violet eyes appeared darker, her purple veins stood out against the white sclera. She and Ashley took cover on one side, leaving Shepard alone on the other again. When the door to the archives opened, the trio sprang through with guns at the ready, but nobody greeted them.

“Ash, check the perimeter. Liara, what am I looking at?” Shepard took a few steps towards the structure that reminded her of the Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime, the one that shot visions into her brain and started this whole mess.

Liara approached the terminals surrounding the archive and started working while an old enemy materialized out of a vid-comm to heckle Shepard.

The Illusive Ass didn’t look much different from the last time Shepard saw him, only now he was standing instead of sitting. She felt a little honored to have been thought worthy of this kind of respect from the rat-faced asshole. The last time she’d spoken to him, she gave him a piece of her mind before inviting him to watch her get bent over a table and railed by her alien boyfriend. It was an offer the Illusive Ass couldn’t refuse fast enough. Aside from breaking said table, that had arguably been some of the most satisfying sex of her life.

No , she corrected herself, including breaking the table.

“Shepard.”

“Illusive Ass,” Shepard said, crossing her arms. “The fuck do you want?”

Liara cocked her gun before realizing that he wasn’t actually in the room with them. She stood down behind Shepard, eyes darting around the room looking for any indication of an ambush.

“Fascinating race, the Protheans,” the Illusive Ass said. “They left this here for us to discover, but we’ve squandered it. The Alliance has known about the archives for more than thirty years, and what have they done with it?”

“Answer my fucking question, Ass. The hell do you want?” Shepard growled the words.

He didn’t look at Shepard. His cybernetic eyes were on the archive. “What I’ve always wanted. The data in these artifacts holds the key to solving the Reaper threat.”

“Saw your handiwork. Your people were turned into monsters, fuckhead.”

“Hardly. They’re being improved.”

Shepard visibly bristled at the statement. “Improved?”

“That’s what separates us, Shepard. Where you see a means to destroy, I see a means to control–to dominate and harness the Reapers’ power. Imagine how strong Humanity would be if we controlled them?”

“You’re insane,” Liara said.

“I was going to say mad as a hatter at Cthulhu’s cult meeting, but yours sounds a lot better out loud,” Shepard said. “Earth is under siege, and you’re hatching a scheme to control the Reapers!? ”

“You’ve always been shortsighted, hasty. Your destruction of the Collector base proved that,” the Illusive Man said. He took a long drag on his ever-present cigarette.

“They turned people into juice! ” Shepard cried. She gesticulated wildly with her gun. “Human fucking juice! To fill up another fucking Reaper!”

“This isn’t your fight anymore, Shepard.” He took another drag on his cigarette. Shepard hoped the crackpot had some cybernetic lungs to go with his eyes. “You can’t defeat the Reapers, even with the Prothean data.”

“You brought me back because you know what I’m capable of. I will defeat them.” Shepard stepped up to the hologram and glared at the Illusive Ass.

Buddy, if you were here right now in person, you’d have been broken six ways from Sunday already.

“Doubtful. The odds aren’t in your favor. More importantly, I don’t want the Reapers destroyed.”

Shepard wanted to take a step back in shock. The man was already indoctrinated. He had to be. Whatever Reaper tech this stupid motherfucker had been messing with had already gotten into his head and screwed it up beyond repair. Maybe he’d been that way since the very beginning. She kept her legs still and her voice firm. “You really have lost your goddamn mind.”

“We can dominate them, use their power, harness their very essence to bring Humanity to the apex of evolution.”

“You’ve gone too far. The Reapers will kill us all if we don’t stop fucking fighting each other!”

“I don’t expect you to understand, Shepard. And I’m certainly not looking for your approval.” He looked down his nose at her. “You were a tool, an agent with a singular purpose. And despite our differences, you were relatively successful.” He looked off to the side. “But like the rest of the relics in this place, your time is over.”

“Shut the fuck up. Liara, if you please?”

Liara returned to the terminal and attempted to access the beacon’s data.

“Don’t interfere with my plans, Shepard. I won’t warn you again.” The Illusive Ass tried to return her glare of defiance with one of domination. It wasn’t going to work.

“Motherfucker, I look at warning labels and laugh. ”

“Shepard, the data isn’t here!” Liara said frantically. “It’s being erased!”

“Shit!” Shepard cussed. “How the hell’s he doing it?”

“It’s local. Someone is uploading the information.” Liara tried to outdo whoever was stripping data off the archive, but her fingers couldn’t move fast enough.

Chapter Text

How do you look into the mirror when you're too tired to fake a smile?

LC

“Hey! Step away from the console!” Ashley ordered a slight brunette woman with hair cut in a short, angular bob. Ashley took a few more steps towards the woman. “Now!”

She received a swift kick in the gut and another across the helmet for her trouble. Ashley was knocked off balance by the force of the blows. The woman packed more of a punch than Ashley expected. The woman slammed her fist through the terminal and the archive went dark. The woman started running.

“She’s got the data,” Ashley called to Shepard and Liara, scrambling to her feet and taking off after the woman, Dr. Eva Core, the Cerberus mole.

Shepard took off at a sprint. Liara stopped to help Ashley to her feet. They ran along behind Shepard, unable to catch up to the Commander.

“Has she always been this fast?” Liara huffed.

“Has to keep up with Tali and Garrus,” Ashley wheezed. “Guess it comes with the territory.”

Shepard shouted into the comm link back to their shuttle, “James, do you read me!? Cerberus has the data! Radio the Normandy!”

Ashley raced up the ladder just in time to see Dr. Eva get into a Cerberus shuttle that started to take off, when the Normandy’s own Kodiak shuttle swooped down and slammed its nose into the side of the Cerberus shuttle, which plummeted from the sky right towards Ashley, Liara, and Shepard.

The Commander could keep herself safe. Liara pushed Ashley to the side.

“Vega, what the hell was that!?” Shepard shouted at the sky.

James Vega dropped the shuttle down on a semi-flat part of the roof only littered with minor fires. He opened the shuttle doors. “Normandy’s en route,” he said.

“We need the data,” Liara said. Ashley tried helping Liara limp to the shuttle, but she turned around towards the flaming Cerberus craft. Ashley followed her gaze in time to see what was left of that shuttle’s door kicked off and something that looked like Dr. Eva but metallic emerged from the blaze. She ran at Ashley and Liara. Ashley pushed Li out of the way, taking the gun off her girlfriend’s hip to shoot, but the bullets bounced harmlessly off.

Now that she was close to Ashley, Ashley could tell that what she was looking at was some sort of mech, more advanced than any she’d ever seen. The mech effortlessly picked Ashley up by her helmet and held her in the air.

“Ashley!” Liara screamed.

“Let her go,” Shepard demanded.

Ashley struggled, feet dangling in the air. She had a hard time hearing, but it sounded like the mech asked someone for orders. They weren’t good ones, because the next thing Ashley knew her head was being slammed into the walls of the Cerberus shuttle again and again until her brain felt like scrambled eggs. Her vision swam and started to fade black around the edges. She heard gunshots and felt someone picking her up, but after that was just...

Dark. It was so very, very dark. And very cold. Ashley reached up, at least she thought it was up. Her hand found nothing. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t even really feel anything aside from the cold. She was dead. Except she couldn’t be dead, could she? She could still think. “I think, therefore I am,” right? Descartes…?

Maybe she was dead. But this wasn’t heaven. It couldn’t be. There were no pearly gates, no angelic choirs. Saint Peter wasn’t standing there with a book trying to find Ashley’s name. Would he even find it? Ashley had tried to lead a good life. She’d broken a few rules here and there, but nothing heinous. War necessitated killing. She was a soldier. Every time she’d killed someone it was to protect others. Even Clan Weyrloc, that had been to protect Clan Urdnot and free Mordin’s student. Except Maelon hadn’t needed freeing. But she hadn’t known that. She had good intentions.

If she was dead, then this might be hell? But it wasn’t on fire. She wasn’t burning alive. It was just cold. But Ashley wasn’t a traitor. She didn’t belong in the deepest circle of hell with Satan himself and Judas Iscariot. Wait, was that actually in the Bible or was that Dante? Maybe this was Purgatory? Ashley might need to atone for some sins before she got into heaven.

Wait… I’m not ready to die yet. I’m not ready to die yet! Please… God, Jesus, Saint Brendan, someone! I’ll do anything. I can’t die. Not yet. What about Li? We’re supposed to… We… Please don’t make me give her up!

Ashley strained against the darkness. She’d take the garish sun and harsh sand over this oblivion. She’d crawl across another burning desert on her hands and knees, choking on the dry, dusty wind, if it meant she could get back to the soothing oasis and its magical inhabitant.

“...embrace eternity…”

Li…?

A mermaid’s kiss could supposedly let a sailor breathe underwater. Ashley’s lungs expanded as she was led lips-first through the void, breaking up through the seafloor and towards the surface. Blessed water flowed through her hair. She saw pale violet eyes that outshone the sun’s wavering light.

Ashley slammed into the water’s surface like it was a concrete wall. She couldn’t follow Liara any further, but she wasn’t drowning. She wanted to scream, to beg Liara to come back, but couldn’t find her voice.

Li… Li please… I don’t want to be alone…

Observer

“Ashley!” Liara screamed. She started forward, but Shepard held up an arm to stop her.

The Commander leveled a gun at Dr. Eva’s head. “Let her go.”

Liara watched in horror as the synthetic being she’d known as Dr. Eva Core tossed around her Human girlfriend like a ragdoll, ramming Ashley’s head into the side of the Cerberus shuttle multiple times. The synth stopped its assault on Ashley and turned towards Liara and Shepard. The Commander emptied an entire clip from her Carnifex into Dr. Eva’s body before the mech stopped moving.

“Grab that thing, bring it with us,” Shepard ordered James.

Liara flew to Ashley’s side. She wasn’t moving. Life signs were faint. She needed medical attention, more than just battlefield medicine, real trained doctors.

“Ashley,” Liara said her name like a prayer. “Ashley, please…” Tears mingled with the dust storm to fill Liara’s eyes with grit.

“We’ve got multiple Reaper signatures inbound,” Joker’s voice said through the comm link. The Normandy lowered into view at the edge of the roof.

Shepard threw Ashley over her shoulders and ran to the open shuttle bay with Liara right behind her. All around them, Reapers descended from the sky landing on the red dusty surface.

Liara followed Shepard to the med bay. The Commander laid Ashley down on one of the beds. Liara gently pulled off Ashley’s helmet and gasped. A gash along her hairline poured blood. Her nose had been broken and deep purple bruises were forming below her eyes. Liara smoothed Ashley’s hair back from the gash and applied medigel with shaking hands.

“You’ll be okay, Ashley,” Liara said, trying to reassure herself. “Shepard, we have to leave the Sol system.”

“I know,” the Commander said. She cast one last look at Ashley before paging the cockpit. “Joker, Citadel. Now. When we arrive, tell them we need doctors.”

“Roger that,” Joker said through the intercom.

“Liara, can you and EDI see what you can learn from…that?” She pointed to the mech James was carrying. He laid it down on another hospital bed.

Liara nodded. Anything to keep her from worrying. Work. Work was good. She could work, and if she learned something it might help Ashley. Might help all of them.

“Commander,” EDI said, “I’m receiving a signal over the secondary QEC. I believe it’s Admiral Hackett.”

“Patch me through,” Shepard said, rushing out of the med bay.

Liara stood frozen between her critically injured girlfriend and the damaged mech. “EDI, if I move this into the AI core and hook it up, will you be okay?”

“I possess advanced cybersecurity protocols that have been enhanced beyond Cerberus standards thanks to Tali and Legion,” EDI assured her. “There are risks, but they can be mitigated easily.”

“Okay.” Liara tried picking up the mech, but found it too heavy. She instead encased it in a biotic field to transport to the AI core. It was better than dragging the damn thing across the floor. She connected a few hardlink cables to ports that EDI identified and left the AI to examine their unexpected loot.

Liara perched on the edge of Ashley’s bed. Readouts from her girlfriend’s omni-tool scrolled across the screen next to her. Liara frowned. She felt utterly useless, totally helpless, and so very alone.

Alerts sounded. Ashley’s vitals plummeted. Liara didn’t know what else to do aside from hijack Ashley’s nervous system to stabilize her.

“Embrace eternity.”

Autonomic functions were housed in the hindbrain of every species. Liara mapped the analogous brain regions from her own rhombencephalon onto Ashley’s brainstem, pons, cerebellum, and medulla oblongata. She held the meld as long as physically possible to make sure Ashley’s neurons were firing correctly. It felt like Liara was holding the vagus nerve open so the signals could pass through to the rest of Ashley’s body and keep her from dying.

If any of the goddesses or their prophets are listening, please let me save her.

Paragon

“Commander,” EDI said through her terminal in the med bay, “I’m receiving a signal over the secondary QEC. I believe it’s Admiral Hackett.”

“Patch me through.” Shepard ran out of the room.

“I’ll forward it to the comm room,” EDI said. She also forwarded a set of instructions for Shepard to get to the comm room. When they’d impounded her ship, they’d also gutted it and redid the insides.

Shepard stood in front of a crackling blue image of Admiral Hackett. “Commander? Commander, are you there? Can you read me?”

“EDI, can you clear this up?” Shepard asked the AI.

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Hackett’s image became sharper, his voice less jumbled by static. “Commander, did you get to the archives?”

“I was there. So was the Illusive Ass… Man.” Shepard corrected herself.

“I was worried Cerberus might try something,” Hackett said, putting a hand up to his chin. “Did you get the data?”

“Most of it. He downloaded some before I could stop him. EDI and Liara are going over what we’ve recovered.” Shepard heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Liara enter the comm room. Her eyes were purple and swollen from fighting back tears, but the rest of her face was set in a stoic mask.

“What did you get? Was it worth the effort?” Hackett asked.

“Evidence suggests that the data is a blueprint for a Prothean device that could destroy the Reapers.” Liara linked her omni-tool to the vid-comm and displayed a schematic. “It’s massive in size and scope, theoretically capable of unquantifiable levels of destruction.”

“Send it on,” Hackett said. “We’ll do our own analysis. If Liara’s instincts are right, this might be the key to stopping the Reapers.”

“I hope so,” Shepard said. “Ashley was critically wounded. We’re taking her to the Citadel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Shepard,” Hackett said, “but we both know this is just the beginning.”

“It doesn’t start with Ash,” Shepard said.

“Talk to the Council,” Hackett instructed her, echoing Anderson’s words. “Show them what you have. With luck, they’ll give you all the support we need.”

“And if they don’t?” Shepard’s face fell.

“Do whatever it takes to get them on board. I’ll be in touch soon. Hackett out.”

Shepard gripped the edge of the vid-comm’s control panel until her knuckles turned white. She stared down at the floor fighting to get herself under control. She felt like she needed to get totally rearranged, like every muscle needed to be stripped from the bone and put back into place. Her stomach felt both distended and hollow at the same time. Her heart skipped along in an uneven rhythm. Despite the loud music pounding in one ear, she couldn’t hold herself together.

“Shepard,” Liara said, catching her attention. “EDI is extracting data from the Cerberus machine. We’ll have details to present to the council by the time we reach the Citadel.”

“What about Ash?” Shepard asked.

“I’ve done what I can for her, but… I’m not that kind of doctor.”

Shepard stood up straight, took a deep breath, and rolled her shoulders. She cracked her knuckles and her neck before walking out of the comm room.

“Hackett’s right. It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” Liara asked.

“If we don’t stop the Reapers, yeah.”

“I’ve looked at the data,” Liara said, following Shepard down a small ramp. “It could be the answer, if we can build it. I get the sense that you’re skeptical, though.”

“Liara it’s just… too good to be true.” Shepard couldn’t meet Liara’s eyes. “You didn’t see what they did to Earth. How is one weapon supposed to stop them?”

“What are our options?” Liara asked her. “We can’t win this conventionally.”

When Shepard didn’t reply, Liara repeated her name again. “Shepard… It’s at least worth a try, isn’t it?”

“I’m going to check on Ash and James.” Shepard walked away from Liara. “Can you make sure we’re ready to present our findings to the Council?”

“I’m sure the Council will see the need to help,” Liara said. She had that damn indomitable cheer, that fucking belief in Commander Goddamn Shepard.

“It’ll be a hell of a short war if they don’t.”

Ash was stable, James didn’t want to talk right now, and Shepard sat alone in her cabin on her bed nibbling at a ration bar in complete silence. Her only attire was Garrus’s old shirt.

“We were supposed to do this together,” she whispered. Shepard wanted to start crying, but couldn’t make herself do it. She was past the point of crying and had tipped into numbness as her body started to shut down, closing off the areas that could feel pain.

“Commander,” EDI’s voice chimed out of the wall, “would you like to take a shower or listen to music while you rest?”

A shower was probably a good idea. Her bathroom had a door now, which was nice. She was still covered in dust from the Martian surface. Regardless of the airlocks and decontamination protocols present in the Mars base, the dust got everywhere. She’d always hated having to go to Mars. Every time she left, she’d find grit in her teeth for a week.

“Maybe in a bit, EDI,” Shepard said. “Thanks for checking on me.”

Joker

The Citadel opened like a massive flower orbiting the star Widow. Each petal-shaped arm had hundreds of thousands of buildings and housed millions of people. Even more came here on business. Joker had only ever seen it from the inside of a cockpit, and mostly preferred to keep it that way.

He swooped into one of the waiting docks on the spinning central structure that helped maintain the station’s artificial gravity and day/night cycle. As soon as he hit the dock, medical personnel burst onto his ship and ran for the med bay to retrieve Ashley Williams. Liara trailed after them but was brushed off despite protestations that Williams was her partner. Bondmate? Was that the right word? Liara wore some kind of locket with the Lieutenant Commander’s picture in it.

Joker was happy he’d never gotten mixed up in romantic relationships. They came with a lot of anxiety and a lot of drama. The most worried he got was when his ship was in danger.

“Where are you guys taking her?” Shepard asked the medics.

“Huerta Memorial,” one of them said. “Best care on the Citadel.”

“We’re not going with?” Vega asked.

Shepard shook her head. “We’ve got to see the Council first.”

Liara, the Commander, and Vega departed the ship. Joker stayed onboard. He didn’t have much reason to leave right now. He needed to keep the rest of the chucklefucks who thought they knew how to handle his baby in line.

Paragon

Shepard loitered outside the docking bay where the Normandy sat awaiting the return of its captain. She looked at her ship, at the Citadel, at the stars, the purple cosmic dust floating around in this part of the Serpent Nebula. She had Liara’s data, video from Earth, Hackett’s extra information. Hopefully it would be enough for the Council to believe her this time.

A Human C-Sec officer with short cropped blond hair and hardened blue eyes came to greet her.

“Captain Bailey,” Shepard said, shaking his hand. “Good to see you.”

“It’s Commander now, actually. Those are flip-flopped for our ranks.”

“Congratulations?” Something about the way Bailey said his new rank made her phrase it as a question.

“Thanks,” Bailey grumbled. “Now half my job is dealing with political bullshit and escorting dignitaries around. No offense.”

Shepard smiled. She hoped it came across as warm and genuine. “None taken. So you’re taking us to see the Council?”

“The Council is expecting you,” Bailey said. He started leading them through the docks. “They’re all dealing with their own problems… With the war and everything. They apologize for the inconvenience, and blah blah blah. They’ll meet you in Udina’s office.”

“Great… this inspires so much confidence,” Shepard mused aloud.

Bailey was called away to deal with something in the embassies. It would be some time before the Council finished whatever bullshit they were dealing with right now. Shepard decided instead to stop by the hospital and check on Ashley first.

Well, that was her plan until she got waylaid by a reporter in a short black and white dress. The woman introduced herself as Diana Allers. She stated that she believed she and Shepard could “help” each other.

Shepard had a bad track record with the press. Well… any press that wasn’t Emily Wong. She crossed her arms and glared at Diana. “Suppose you want an interview?”

“Even better.” Diana’s eyes lit up. She was some kind of military reporter on Battlespace, a show carried on nearly every Council planet. Her producers wanted her on a Human ship, and she wanted that ship to be the Normandy.

“Let me get this straight. You want to be a reporter on a stealth frigate .” Shepard emphasized the words. “What part of ‘stealth frigate’ don’t you get?”

“Wars can be won or lost in the editing room. And this war needs to be won.”

Can’t argue with that.

Yes, I can! I don’t want a fucking reporter on my goddamned ship!

“I’ve got Alliance security clearance,” Diana pressed her. “And I operate without a crew. You get veto power over the segments I file. Can you handle that arrangement or do I need to keep looking?”

“Fine. Tell your producers yes for now. We’ll see how this goes. You get one footlocker of gear.”

Did we have to do that?

Yes. We have to do a lot of things we don’t like, even keeping a reporter in the cargo hold.

Shepard left the docking bay and overheard a conversation between a departing Turian soldier and his Asari wife. The Asari toyed with a pendant around her neck that looked to be part of a matched set with a bracelet around her wrist. Apparently communication in and out of the Turian homeworld was restricted right now, and that was where the soldier was being deployed. He wasn’t even a real soldier, just an engineer who’d be setting up bases after the area had been cleared by strike teams. Shepard wanted to insert herself into their discussion and ask how long that no-communication protocol had been in place, but thought better of it. They were about to deal with the same numb hell she found herself in. Best to let them have their moments to themselves.

Archangel

“Dad, quit being a stubborn ass, you and Lana need to be on the next evac ship out!” Garrus shouted into the static-filled communication line.

“My place is here, son, just like yours is,” his father replied.

“Fine,” Garrus huffed, “but you need to at least get Lana offworld. Dad, she’s still a kid. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“Your sister’s turning into a good soldier, Garrus. Just like you.”

As much as it felt good to hear his father finally say it, Garrus wasn’t a good soldier. He was a shit one who didn’t like taking bad orders if he thought they were bad or the person giving them was an idiot. He’d circumvented orders to try and get a communication to Palaven while the fighting got thicker and thicker outside this small base of operations on Menae, the larger of Palaven’s moons. Garrus balled his hand into a fist and looked at the picture of Jane on his desk.

What would you tell him?

She’d call his father a stubborn ass, which Garrus had already done. She’d tell him it wasn’t fair to condemn Solana to death before she was a full legal adult and could make those decisions for herself, which Garrus had already done. Sometimes Garrus wondered why Turians started military service when they were still children. The fifteen-year length of service didn’t bother him much, but starting when you were fifteen didn’t leave a lot of room to learn or try anything else.

“Just, dad, if shit gets bad, make the right decision, okay?”

The line went dead before his father could reply. Garrus picked up the little box that held his mother’s wedding bracelet and opened it. He tilted the box back and forth to see the gems catch the light. Scoots wanted to see this around Jane’s wrist, and as the fighting began in earnest, so did Garrus.

He couldn’t get any kind of signal to communicate outside the system. He only hoped the Reapers hadn’t made it to Illium, or if they had then his ex-merc stepmother could get them all to safety.

“Sir, we’re about to make another push on the northern perimeter,” a scout said from the doorway to his office. The scout glanced from the jewelry box to Garrus and gave him a sad smile. “Good luck charm?”

“Something like that.” Garrus snapped the box closed and slipped it into his ammo pouch.

“Got a girl back home?”

Garrus shook his head. “Not back home. She’s somewhere out there.”

“Should give that to her when you see her next. Pay’s a little better for married officers.”

“I just hope after everything that’s happened, she’s still alive, and that she’ll still have me.”

Chapter Text

Oh, the thought, we are the flaws that make us.

That must be why I'm suffering.

Paragon

Huerta Memorial Hospital was a shining white structure stretching the width of the Presidium. Wide windows let in bright daylight and offered a view of a park filled with greenery. Patients and families chatted quietly in a lounge area where Asari receptionists completed intake paperwork and answered inquiries. Shepard passed them all, but came to a stop when she saw Dr. Chakwas speaking with a younger woman also in a physician’s uniform.

“Dr. Chakwas!” Shepard gasped. “What are you doing here?”

The older woman hugged her. It was over too soon.

“Shepard!” Dr. Chakwas smiled brightly. “I’m working in an Alliance R&D lab down in Shalta Wards, coordinating closely with Admiral Hackett. How have you been?”

“Earth’s in ruins, Ash is in this hospital somewhere, and…” Shepard blinked back tears. She tugged at the collar of her jacket.

“Yes, I heard. I came here as fast as I could.”

“Do you know how she’s doing, Doc?” Shepard asked.

Ashley had a good prognosis according to Dr. Chakwas. She offered praise to the lead doctor for Huerta Memorial, Dr. Michel. Shepard recognized the name. She used to run a little clinic down in the lower wards three years ago. Shepard asked what Dr. Chakwas had been doing for the last six months since the Alliance impounded the Normandy. They hadn’t really known what to do with the doctor, apparently. She hadn’t ever been part of Cerberus, and had taken the steps for a proper leave of absence from her old post. They couldn’t pin anything on her.

“Dr. Chakwas, your place is in the Normandy’s med bay. Not some lab,” Shepard said. “Besides, you know Joker doesn’t take his meds.”

“You don’t either, Commander. You’re looking peaky. Have you been eating?” Dr. Chakwas felt for Shepard’s ribs.

“Cut it out, Doc,” Shepard said, blushing deep red. “Just report for duty, okay? You can chew me out when we’re not in public.”

“Commander Shepard,” Dr. Michel called from across the lounge. “I assume you’re here about Lieutenant Commander Williams?”

“Yeah, is Ash okay?” Shepard asked, walking up to Dr. Michel.

“Severe head trauma, but we reduced the swelling quickly. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but her vitals are strong. I’m optimistic.”

Shepard was about to ask if she could visit Ashley when Liara entered the patient lounge with short, quick steps. She nervously rubbed a small pendant between her fingers. Shepard had seen Samara with a similar one a handful of times on the Normandy.

“Dr. Michel, this is Liara,” Shepard introduced the nervous Asari to the head physician. “She’s Ash’s–”

“Bondmate,” Liara stated.

“Can we go see her?” Shepard asked.

“Of course. She’s just down the hall.” Dr. Michel pointed. “First door on your right.”

Liara gripped Shepard’s hand tightly as they entered the medical wing of the hospital. A pair of doctors exited Ash’s room muttering something about neurosplints and things being “touch and go”. They stepped to the side and let Shepard and Liara pass. The door slid open and there was Ashley Williams, covered in bruises with bandages around her ribs. The gash along her hairline had been stitched closed. She appeared to be asleep with her hands folded on her stomach, if one ignored the deep purple marks on her skin.

“Hey, Ash,” Shepard said softly.

Liara remained silent. She laid her hand over Ashley’s. Shepard thought she saw Ash’s hand twitch in response to her girlfriend’s touch.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but you also can’t tell me to get the hell out. So I’ll take my chances. Hang in there. We need you in this fight with us. So get better, okay, LC? That’s an order. I’m so proud of you.” Shepard took a step back and turned to look at the door so Liara could have some privacy.

“Ashley, dear,” the Asari’s voice cracked, “please get better. Not because you have to fight. Please get better for me.” When Liara took her hand away, Shepard saw a fine gold chain looped around Ashley’s fingers. The saint’s icon was hidden under her palm.

Shepard didn’t know if Liara was particularly religious. An Asari saying “goddess” was about the same as a Human saying “oh my god”. Their culture was very well established and one of the most ancient in the galaxy. The Asari had a good track record of scientific advancements, they lived for a thousand years and were the founders of intergalactic civilization.

Liara’s religiosity wasn’t the important thing, though. Ash was something of a lapsed Catholic, not very devout about attending mass or communion or any number of the shit-million sacraments. She didn’t even follow the rules about Lent or being gay for aliens. Having faith in something was important to her, though, and Liara had gone back to the ship to find Ashley’s icon and bring it to her in the hospital.

Shepard couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. They still had each other.

A doctor entered the room and started running some scans. “If you need anything at all,” Shepard said to him, “let us know.”

On Shepard’s way back out of the hospital, she overheard an Asari talking about Reaper forces that she’d seen. Not the bulbous, red cannibal things Shepard had fought. Whatever the Asari had faced were made out of Turians. Shepard’s steps grew heavy and slow. Only Liara’s fingers digging into her arm kept her body walking forward. Her mind conjured up an old nightmare, the one Shepard had before she hit the derelict Reaper with her squad. The worst part of it hadn’t been the pitch black void where she didn’t know what way was up. It hadn’t been the Reaper voice booming in her head. The worst part had been seeing her friends either dead or turned into tools for the Reapers because Commander Goddamn Shepard wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, good enough to save them.

“Commander,” Liara’s voice cut through the waking nightmare. She snapped her fingers in front of Shepard’s eyes. “Shepard. Shepard, wake up.”

How had she gotten onto the floor? And why were there about a dozen nurses peering down at her? Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Michel pushed through the throng and shooed them away while taking turns scanning Shepard and checking her vitals.

“Blood glucose levels are dangerously low,” Dr. Michel said.

“I’ll take over, Doctor,” Dr. Chakwas said. She pulled a small, white pill out of her pocket. “Shepard, chew and swallow this. It’s sucrocapsinate, sugar pill. Then before you do anything else, Liara and I are making you eat something. Not a ration bar. Food that will actually stick to your ribs.”

The sugar pill dissolved faster than Shepard could chew it. She let Liara help her to her feet and leaned on her as they walked out of the hospital. They bypassed the embassy floor entirely and went straight to the Presidium commons down below the hospital. Dr. Chakwas and Liara sat her down at a table outside a small cafe. The bright sunlight illuminated an artificially blue sky and bounced off of white towers all around them. Shepard’s head hurt. She massaged her temples.

“Commander, when was the last time you ate something?” Dr. Chakwas asked, skimming the menu. She quietly made a few selections and Shepard could faintly hear orders being called out from the cafe’s kitchen.

Shepard thought, trying to remember. Dr. Chakwas said that a ration bar didn’t count. It was nutrients, but not exactly food. “I… threw up a poptart when I escaped Earth?”

“Goddess,” Liara said. “Shepard, why didn’t you say something?”

Shepard shrugged. “More important things going on.”

A glass of something red and fizzy with a comically loopy straw was placed in front of her. She leaned forward and took a long sip. It tasted like biting into a crisp apple, and the carbonation forced her throat open.

“Commander, I’m your physician, be honest with me,” Dr. Chakwas said. “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“It was kind of hard to do that in a blacksite interrogation cell for three months, doc. But once I got out, three squares a day and plenty of exercise.”

“Blacksite?” Dr. Chakwas repeated. A solemn nod from Liara answered the unspoken question. “Anderson and Hackett never said anything about a blacksite.” Dr. Chakwas crossed her arms.

“Wasn’t their call,” Shepard said. “Everyone thought I had intel on Cerberus.” She wrapped one arm around her waist. Sometimes it still felt stiff, like right now. The more dubious interrogation methods hadn’t yielded any more information than she already gave them during her deposition.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything more to help you,” Liara said. “With the Reapers, I…”

“Hey. Liara, we’ve been over that. It’s fine. What’s a little light torture to Commander Shepard?”

A basket of fries smothered in cheese and topped with a smoked, pulled meat, dark red smoky sweet barbecue sauce, and jalapenos was placed in front of Shepard.

“Not the healthiest,” Dr. Chakwas said, “but I think you need it.”

Shepard’s stomach answered for her, loudly growling as the scent of fast food hit her nostrils. Conversation ceased and she just ate until her stomach physically couldn’t fit anything else inside of it. Not if she didn’t want to throw up again, and that would be a waste of good credits.

Shepard pushed the empty basket and third cup of soda away. “I feel like a new Human.”

“You look like a new Human,” Liara said. She neatly folded her paper napkin and laid it on the table next to what remained of her sandwich.

“You gonna eat those?” Shepard asked, pointing to the discarded crusts.

“Go ahead.” Liara slid the plate over to Shepard, who quickly tossed the offending pieces of bread into her mouth.

“Why don’t you like crust?” Shepard asked, talking with her mouth full.

“It’s a texture thing,” Liara said. “Bread should be soft and fluffy, not crunchy.”

“I hardly call this crunchy,” Shepard said after she’d swallowed.

Dr. Chakwas was looking at Shepard with a melancholy expression. “Commander, are you feeling alright? Emotionally, I mean.”

“I’m as fine as I can be, given the circumstances,” Shepard asked. “Why?”

“Your scars look a bit worse, is all. I hope that your body isn’t trying to reject the implants and other things Cerberus used to put you back together.” Dr. Chakwas reached out and turned Shepard’s face back and forth. “They always seemed a bit deeper when something was bothering you. I’d try and get you in touch with Kelly, but I’m not entirely sure what happened to her. Everyone on the Normandy who was affiliated with Cerberus was arrested shortly after you turned yourself in, assuming they hadn’t vacated the premises of course.”

“Great. An actual war on and I don’t have my fucking therapist.” She wasn’t excited at the prospect of starting over with someone new. She’d have to go over everything that happened to her all over again, even the things she thought were totally behind her.

At least one of them was totally behind her, turned into a grease stain by a pissed off Garrus Vakarian who at the time was both drunk and in love with Commander Shepard.

God, why the fuck was I such an idiot?

There were so many times during their fight against the Collectors that she should have just gotten the nerve and kissed him. It would have saved the both of them a lot of trouble, especially now that she had the knowledge he would have kissed her back almost immediately.

And now there was a war on and they’d wasted all that time.

“We should be getting to the embassies,” Liara said.

“I’ll see you both back on the ship, Commander, Liara.” Dr. Chakwas rose from her chair. “You’re both to report to the med bay for full physicals.”

“Aye aye, Doctor,” Shepard saluted.

Machinist

Gerrel and Xen were insane. They had to be. Now wasn’t the time to start a war with the Geth. Now wasn’t the time to retake Rannoch. She didn’t give a damn what Daro’Xen had created, what it could do to the Geth’s ladar pings. She just knew that this was wrong, so, so wrong. Admiral Tali’Zorah vas Normandy never thought she would side with Admiral Zaal’Koris vas Qwibqwib in anything, but here they were standing on the same side of the table while Shala’Raan hovered in the middle.

Tali had once looked up to her Auntie Raan, at one time her parents’ dearest friend. Now she saw the woman as a spineless grifter floating to whichever side had the most support. The Civilian Fleet, headed by Koris, was the largest in the flotilla. The people didn’t want war. They didn’t want their peaceful homes converted into battleships, nevermind that doing that particular modification violated one shit-million treaties.

Fuck ass bitch titties… Sis, what would you do?

Tali wished she’d been able to get any kind of message to Shepard. Whatever firewalls the Alliance had been keeping her behind were uncrackable, even to a prodigy like Tali who could code almost before she could write her own name.

“We don’t have to fight,” Tali said. “We could negotiate. If you just talk to them–”

“Talk to the Geth?” Daro’Xen scoffed. “Do you talk to a hammer? An engine core?”

Actually… yes. I do talk to the engine.

“If you let me speak to them, we can avoid this whole thing!” Tali implored. If she could just talk to Legion, they could find some sort of solution. She hadn’t heard from the Geth in a while. They’d stopped logging in to the guild’s server about a month ago, and multiple high scores of theirs for other games had been overtaken. Tali was starting to get worried. Legion was competitive. They’d never let someone top their score for this long. “At least give me a chance to do that before we weaponize the Civilian Fleet. That paints a massive target on their backs. The Geth won’t attack noncombatant vessels. They never have.”

“The data recovered from the Alarei is too useful to pass up,” Xen said. Tali could see nothing behind the older woman’s visor, but her omni-tool readouts told her that Daro’Xen didn’t see anything wrong with this course of action. No anxiety, no worry, no fear, no uncertainty.

“That data came from monstrous experiments on living things,” Koris countered. “If it had been done to Quarians, we would have been crying for a tribunal!”

“We have to use Rael’s research,” Han’Gerrel said. “We’ll never get another chance like this.”

“Shala,” Tali begged, “you have to see reason.”

Shala’Raan sighed. “Tali, I admire your idealism, but you are young. You don’t have the same life experience needed to make these kinds of arguments.”

Tali’s heart cracked in two. This was what she’d been afraid of when they voted her onto the board. She was an expert on the Geth, the Reapers, but they still wouldn’t listen to her because of her age.

“It’s two on one,” Gerrel said. He glared across the table, totally ignoring Tali’s presence next to Admiral Zaal’Koris.

“Three,” Shala sighed, moving around the table to stand next to the other two Admirals. “Remember we must present a united front to the fleets. This conclave of the Admirals is now closed.”

Tali killed the audio feed from inside her suit so they couldn’t hear her crying. Why did nobody listen to her? Hadn’t she done more than enough to earn the respect that came with an Admiralty in the Migrant Fleet? She’d never captained a ship, but neither had Daro’Xen. She’d never been a field officer in a war, but neither had Shala’Raan. She didn’t work her way into the social circles needed to be an Admiral, but neither had Zaal’Koris. She had just as many heroic victories under her belt as Han’Gerrel.

She’d keep in line in public, but alone in her room with Kal’Reegar, she’d at least get to say how pissed off she was.

“I take it things didn’t go well?” Kal asked as the door to Tali’s quarters on the Rayya slid shut behind him. She had five or six terminals open, one of which was a remote access to the Normandy’s main computer along an untraceable subspace link established by EDI. Tali had data pads scattered across multiple desks and her bed, each one filled with notes on Reaper tech, AI, and the Geth. Tali herself slumped over one desk that was mostly clear with her helmet resting on her arms.

“We are outfitting the Civilian Fleet with ship-based weapons. Every able-bodied Quarian is being recalled from Pilgrimage. Once we refuel at the depot outside of Illium, we’re going back into the Perseus Veil. To Rannoch.” Tali’s voice sounded robotic to her own ears. There was no emotion in it.

“Rannoch? Are they insane?”

Tali shrugged. “I can’t really say one way or another. My word doesn’t count for much.”

“What about that Geth from the Normandy? Legion? Is it… are they still missing?” Tali appreciated that Kal corrected himself.

Tali nodded mutely.

“I’m sorry, Tali, I know you two were friends.” Kal placed one of his large hands on each of Tali’s shoulders and started rubbing his thumbs into the knots that formed around her spine. She had a suit program that could massage the muscles with tiny mass effect fields, but it always felt better when Kal did it.

“Kal, if you’re not busy, would you mind staying over tonight?” Tali asked. “I don’t really feel like being alone.”

“Absolutely.” He leaned down and pressed the mouthpiece of his helmet against the top of her head. A warm, fuzzy feeling permeated her stomach. At least she didn’t have to do this all by herself.

Chapter Text

Would you here him out

Or reach within the recesses of apathy

Where all you see is red?

Paragon

Shepard stopped by Bailey’s office on the embassy floor before going to see the Council. A Human reporter in a long blue dress stormed out of the room as she was entering, and tried to stop Shepard for a comment. Commander Shepard, however, had dealt with enough press for one day and quickly stepped into the office with Liara. The door hissed shut behind them.

“Councilors ready for us?” Shepard asked.

Bailey nodded. “Glad you’re here. They have a bit to meet. With the Reapers running roughshod all over the galaxy, it seems like they’re always in session.” He looked down at his desk. “It’s killing me about Earth.”

“You and me both,” Shepard sighed.

“I haven’t been back in years,” Bailey said. “Now I may never. If this ain’t the end of days, it’s pretty damn close.”

Shepard bit the inside of her cheeks on the corners of her mouth to keep from telling him not to think that way. “Sure seems like it,” she said tersely. “War’s being felt everywhere already. I thought Earth was the only place hit, but I’ve heard plenty of people talking about Reapers showing up everywhere.”

“Millions across the galaxy have been displaced. Most of them show up here.” Bailey looked out an office window to the long lines at the embassy reception desk. The majority of Bailey’s men were helping process the new arrivals in Customs and getting refugees settled in the docking bay just below where the Normandy sat. Everywhere else on the Citadel Shepard and Liara had seen so far, there was a false sense of security. People didn’t see the fires, the lasers, the repurposed bodies of their friends and loved ones. All of that happened lightyears away to someone else. The refugees who’d seen that hell thought the Citadel would keep them safe.

Nothing would keep them safe if a Reaper showed up here.

You couldn’t keep them safe. If the Reapers come, it’s your fault.

“We all lie to ourselves to deal with horror,” Shepard said. She shook her hair into her eyes.

If Tali were here, she’d give Shepard’s hand a reassuring squeeze and say something startlingly foul-mouthed for someone with her high, sweet voice. If Garrus were here, he’d push her bangs back from her face and tuck them behind her ear. Maybe they were long enough to stay there now.

“Have you got family, Commander Bailey?” Liara asked.

“Somewhere. Ex-wife I lost track of, a son and daughter. They’re still on Earth, last I heard.” Bailey’s face briefly contorted into a pained expression.

“I’m sorry,” Shepard said.

“I’m just like everyone else,” Bailey said. “Losing myself in things I can’t control.”

Things he couldn’t control. What could Shepard control right now? Anything? She barely had control of herself. She’d lost her breakfast, had a panic attack, and fainted all within the last twelve hours. Had it really only been twelve hours? How far had Joker overclocked the FTL drive to get them here? Didn’t he know not to do that without Tali to monitor core output?

Bailey at least could maintain an illusion of security here on the Citadel. “I won’t keep you,” Shepard said. She and Liara turned to leave.

Councilor Udina’s office was just up the hall, across from the Spectre requisitions. Shepard would have liked to go in, but when she’d been stripped of her rank she also lost her Spectre status in a move to placate the Batarians by the Council. The office interior was brighter than Bailey’s, with more room for visiting dignitaries to sit and look out over the sweeping vista of the Presidium. Red calla lilies in large pots sat at perfectly even intervals along the balcony. An assistant greeted Shepard and Liara, told them the Council was already in session, and led them back out of the embassy to the Council chambers.

Like the rest of the Presidium, the Council chambers were filled with greenery and flowers. Three trees with pink flowers and red leaves flanked the Council’s podium. White and gold marble soared around the Councilors, who were arguing amongst themselves. Udina pressed the other Councilors for help since Earth was apparently the first Council world hit by the Reapers. The Salarian Councilor doubted those reports.

“The reports are accurate,” Shepard said, entering the room with Liara. “Earth was attacked. By the Reapers.”

Liara displayed footage taken from the Normandy as well as various other Alliance outposts. It showed the gargantuan space squids lumbering through cities like a horde of mechanical eldritch kaiju leaving crumbling buildings and hellfire in their wake.

The other Councilors looked on in shock.

“This is just the beginning,” Shepard said. “We need your help. Everything you can spare.”

The Asari Councilor, Tevos, looked down on Shepard with stern eyes. Her indigo skin was decorated with white tattoos that reminded Shepard of tiger or zebra stripes. “Each of us faces a similar situation. Even now, the Reapers are pressing on our borders.”

Now you all fucking believe me when your homeworlds are burning.

“If we lend you our strength,” Tevos continued, “our own worlds would fall.”

“We must fight this enemy together,” Udina pleaded.

The Salarian Councilor whose name Shepard could never quite remember shot back. “So we should just follow you to Earth?” His hooded robe and tall, thin frame gave him the appearance of death. That was the fate his resistance was condemning not just the Earth, but the galaxy.

“Even if we were to unite our fleets,” the Turian Councilor, Sparatus, said, “do you really believe we could defeat the Reapers?” His dark brown carapace was covered in intricate white clan markings.

“I don’t expect you to follow me without a fucking plan,” Shepard said. She got some small satisfaction that Udina, Tevos, and the Salarian Councilor were taken aback by her language. “Liara, the schematic.”

Liara pulled up the blueprints. “This is a weapon, created by the Protheans in their war with the Reapers. Their fight lasted centuries, but they weren’t able to complete it.”

“Why not?” Sparatus asked.

“We’re not sure. We’re still piecing that part together.” Liara turned the 3-D model around.

“You’re sure this is capable of destroying the Reapers?” Now the Salarian Councilor was interested. “The scale is… it would be a colossal undertaking.”

“Admiral Hackett already has the plans. The remnants of the Human Systems Alliance are already working on construction,” Shepard said.

“It is very feasible to build,” Liara said. “What looks complicated is actually quite simple and elegant in its design.”

Tevos still wasn’t convinced. “Have you considered that the Reapers destroyed the Protheans? What good did this weapon do?”

“Okay. Seriously. Did you not fucking listen when Liara said it wasn’t completed?” Shepard barked.

“It was missing a component, something referred to only as the Catalyst. They ran out of time before they could finish construction.” Liara zoomed in on a section of the blueprint. It looked like the weapon was supposed to be docked onto something, or have something inserted in a large ring at the top.

“Do you really think this could stop the Reapers?” Councilor Sparatus asked.

“It sure as shit beats standing around and fucking arguing about it,” Shepard spat. “Do any of you have any ideas? What, are we gonna debate the Reapers to death?” She glared at each alien Councilor in turn. “Udina’s right. We need to stand together. Now more than ever.”

Udina’s right… Never thought those words would come out of my mouth…

Councilor Udina was ambitious, and had a tendency to be sneaky and underhanded. Shepard hadn’t liked that to represent Humanity on the galactic stage. That was why she’d thrown her support behind Anderson to be the Human Councilor. Udina was here now, though, and he was making sense for once.

“The Reapers aren’t stopping at Earth. They’ll destroy every last organic being in the galaxy if we don’t find a way to stop them,” Shepard said. Her voice echoed off the marble walls.

Tevos and Sparatus looked down to the Salarian Councilor, who gave a small shake of his head.

“The cruel and unfortunate truth,” Tevos said, “is that while the Reapers focus on Earth we can prepare and regroup.”

“Fuck you!” Shepard lost her cool. “Fuck every last one of you. You keep asking me to get your asses out of impossible situations without any kind of support. First it was the Geth and Saren, then it was the Collectors, now the Reapers are here. Get your shit together, your heads out of your asses and/or cloacas, and back me!”

Udina hid his face in his hands. Sparatus shifted back and forth nervously.

“We are convening a summit amongst our species. If we can manage to secure our own borders, we may once again consider aiding you,” the Salarian Councilor said.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Tevos said. “This is the best we can do.”

“Fine! I’ll do it by myself. Again.” Shepard turned to leave, but Udina called after her to meet him in his office. Her hands balled into fists and she stomped out of the Council chambers. She felt like a caged bull before a fight. Her nostrils flared, sucking in the sickly sweet floral air of the Presidium. She remembered what it had looked like while on fire and filled with Reaper parts. Could she pull that off twice? Could she pull it off however many times there were Reapers?

“Shepard,” Liara said, taking quick strides to keep up, “I’ll get back to work on the device. See you on the ship?”

“Fine.” Shepard hadn’t meant the word to come out as aggressively as it did. Liara’s face fell and her steps slowed.

“Commander,” Liara said, “please be careful.”

Professor

The youngest Krogan, Kurn, wasn’t going to make it. Mordin looked into her feverish eyes that darted between his face and the perpetually shrouded Shaman he’d been calling “Eve”. It seemed an appropriate name. She was now the last hope the Krogan had for a primordial mother.

Somehow Maelon had done it. His horribly barbaric methods, using Humans as test subjects, the surgeries, infusions, gene therapies, they’d worked! The changes to hormone production during pregnancy had been reversed, but not via the same route. But the cost was that the females were medically fragile. A severely weakened immune system put them in the same medical class as most Quarians. That also impacted their ability to regenerate from injuries. Small cuts or scrapes that would have healed in minutes instead served as vectors for infection. Infection their bodies couldn’t fight. What use was it that they’d mutated a way around the affected organs if they all died from bacteria?

Never meant to kill with medicine.

Eve began praying as Kurn took shuddering breath after shuddering breath. The shivers escalated to convulsions as her body tried to keep itself warm despite the soft blanket Mordin secured for her. Her temperature climbed steadily through the night. Mordin had tried every drug known to science to get it to break, and several herbal remedies when those failed.

“Diagnosis, sepsis. Systemic infection of blood. Even with filtration, no guarantee of survival. Still, have to try. My patient. My responsibility.” Mordin turned to get the appropriate equipment. He was stopped by Kurn. The young Krogan woman’s hand closed around his thin wrist.

“D-doctor, I know it is m-my t-time,” she said through chattering teeth. Kurn stared at the ceiling. “I d-die knowing my s-sister bears the h-hope of our peop-ple.” She smiled! The dying girl, really that’s all she was by Krogan standards, smiled! She’d put up the longest fight against her infection, seen older and stronger women than her perish, and yet she smiled.

Mordin clasped the alien’s hand. Bedside manner hadn’t been his strong suit, but he’d gotten better during his time on the Normandy with the Commander and her Human doctor, Karin Chakwas. This Krogan girl reminded him of Shepard in a way. Despite insurmountable hardship and pain, she’d continued on until her body could not bear another moment.

Fighting… always fighting. So tragic for one so young.

Kurn was chronologically older than Mordin, and he honestly wasn’t more than a few years older than Commander Shepard. They both had most of their lives ahead of them while Mordin’s lay behind him. Any day now could be the last. Any day now, Mordin Solus could drop dead and his work on saving the Krogan and righting a generations old wrong would be forgotten by the STG operatives at this base. The Dalatrasses would never allow for a genophage cure’s creation. His message to Urdnot Wrex hadn’t received a reply. Mordin didn’t expect one. It was, however, up to the very model of a scientist Salarian to fix this.

Kurn took her last breath. Her lungs rattled before she fell silent forever. Mordin reached out and closed her eyes. “Rest now, young mother. May your soul find comfort in whatever gods await you.” He blinked his eyes, pushing the bottom lids up to restore moisture balance.

“I am the last now,” Eve said. Her eyes peeking out from under the ornate hood grew somber.

“My fault,” Mordin said. “Should never have meddled in natural evolutionary progression. Ethics compromised. Used medicine to kill. This death, this blood… on my hands.” He looked down at his spindly fingers encased in white medical gloves. “Eve, I have… confession.”

Mordin explained everything to the Krogan shaman: the modified genophage project, his involvement, his change of heart over the years, his attempts to atone in his clinic on Omega, and his realization that atonement could only be achieved if he used everything that his egregious oversight had given them to correct it.

Eve laid a hand on Mordin’s narrow shoulder. “Doctor, I want to help you save my people. Whatever it takes.”

Chapter Text

I wanna feel alive like I used to.

I wanna be someone, do something,

Paragon

“They’re a bunch of self-concerned jackasses, Shepard!” Udina cried as he entered his office. Shepard sat on one of the many couches with her knee up to her chest and leaning back against the armrest. Her other foot was flat on the ground. She couldn’t get her hip to crack. It sat wrong in the joint. Her muscles around it stayed tense, and a shooting pain was starting to arc up the nerve into her lower back. If she didn’t get it to pop soon, it was going to seize up and then she’d be shit out of luck.

“You’re telling me,” Shepard said. She sat up, trying to be a little more respectful after the profanity-filled rant she’d gone on.

“We may have a spot on the Council, but Humanity will always be considered second-rate,” Udina said.

Okay. Filing away the weird Terra Firma talking points for a minute…

“How can they be so blind?” Shepard asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Udina answered it for her.

“They’re scared,” he said. “And they’re looking out for themselves.”

The door to Udina’s office hissed open. Digitigrade footsteps with long strides echoed off the high ceiling. Shepard and Udina looked back to see Councilor Sparatus descend the steps into the sitting area.

“Our people are scared,” Sparatus said, “and we’re looking out for them the best we know how.” He ignored Udina and addressed Shepard. “Commander, I can’t give you what you need, but I can tell you how to get it.”

“Look, I’m not interested in a goddamn fetch-quest,” Shepard said.

“Primarch Fedorian called a war summit, but we lost contact with him when the Reapers hit Palaven. Those meetings won’t proceed without him.”

“How do I factor into this?” Shepard asked.

“The Normandy is one of the few ships that can extract him undetected.”

“Okay. How does that help me, Councilor? How does that help Earth?”

“The leaders of this summit are the ones deciding our fate, where the fleets fight, and with whom. A grateful Primarch would be a tremendous ally in your bid to unite us. His last known location was our moon base on Menae.”

Shepard tried to keep her focus on the task at hand, but her mind wanted to careen off into the stars.

…Palaven? The Reapers had already gotten there after Earth? So quickly?

…Garrus…

Shepard realized the Councilor was waiting for her to give him a response. “I’m on it, Councilor. I’ll be there as soon as I round up my men.”

Her omni-tool flashed briefly. Councilor Sparatus had opened and closed his in the time it took her to respond to his request. “One other thing, Shepard, the Council has chosen to uphold your Spectre status. Various resources will be made available to you.”

“Thank you, Councilor. It’s… a start.”

Udina wasn’t so optimistic. The older man paced back and forth in front of his window after Sparatus left. “The Council,” Udina spat, “you saved their lives and what do they give you? Apologies that boil down to ‘maybe later’? If we don’t figure out something, ‘Maybe Later’ will be the epitaph on a mass grave of eleven billion.”

“I know what the fuck I’m doing,” Shepard said. She threw her leg up by her head, grabbing her ankle and still trying to get the damn hip joint to pop. When that didn’t work, she let her foot fall back to the floor. “What are you gonna do?”

“Humanity has created some goodwill in the galaxy, now we cash in our chips.”

Why does that make me nervous?

All that goodwill is from our coattails. We did that.

Udina’s plans involved a draft, arming civilian vessels, diverting resources to the Prothean weapon project, and a media campaign spreading the idea that helping Humanity would help the galaxy as a whole. With parliament destroyed, Udina was the single most powerful man in the history of Humanity. Shepard wasn’t sure she liked that idea, but reminded herself that Udina was the one here and she needed to work with him, and the other Councilors: Sparatus, Tevos, and Valern.

Valern! That’s his fucking name! Dammit, I should have known that. It was on the tip of my goddamn tongue!

Shepard left Udina’s office and was accosted by dozens of conversations she couldn’t tune out. A volus ambassador was looking for some artifact. An older woman with dementia was looking for her son, who’d likely died, and her disease was so far along that she didn’t recognize the Asari behind the counter as her daughter-in-law. Someone was calling Shepard’s name.

“Commander Shepard! Commander! Humanity demands answers!” The same reporter who’d been in Bailey’s office flagged her down.

Dammit. What the fuck does this bitch want? I’ve had enough reporters for one day.

“Commander Shepard, is it true that you were on Earth when the Reapers attacked?” she demanded, shoving a microphone under Shepard’s chin. “How do you justify running away while millions of people on Earth die? Is that the best we can expect from the Alliance?”

The little camera drone pushed closer to Shepard. The reporter, Khalisah, crowded her. Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up at the ceiling. She wanted to hit this bitch who was in her personal space, and obviously not giving half a damn about it. But she couldn’t do that. She was Commander Goddamn Shepard. Commander Goddamn Shepard didn’t go around assaulting reporters, no matter how much she wanted to.

“I left to get help for Earth. For everyone.”

“What about all the people suffering while you play politics with the Council? What about them? How can you stand here while our families die? What are you going to do?” Khalisah’s questions shot out faster than a souped up AR. Shepard couldn’t answer any of them no matter how quickly she opened her own mouth to try and respond.

“Listen, Khalisah, was it, can you… please take like two steps back.” Shepard’s voice cracked and wavered. She felt tears prick her eyes. “I’m having a hard time breathing right now.”

Her lungs couldn’t pull in enough air. The edges of her vision started to darken. This had nothing to do with low blood sugar. Now she was about to pass out from anxiety.

Khalisah didn’t back down. “What are you going to do?”

Shepard stuffed her emotions down inside a box. She could find time to feel them later. Hadn’t that been something Kelly taught her? Setting aside time to herself to feel? “I’m going to do everything I can.”

“Before they cut the feeds, there were so many dead,” Khalisah said.

“I’m going to stop the Reapers,” Shepard said. “I promise. But I need your help. Keep asking the hard questions. Don’t let the Council forget about Earth.”

She was glad she didn’t hit the reporter. Khalisah backed off. Shepard let out a sigh of relief. She headed for the door to the embassy, but paused when she saw James Vega staring out a window.

Candidate

“Commander,” James said as Shepard stepped up beside him. “Liara told me the Council isn’t interested in helping us.”

“Something like that.” Shepard kept her eyes out the window. She looked tired. Exhausted might be the right word.

“Why would they help us?” James asked. “Look at this place. There’s no war here.” He looked around the high-ceilinged embassy. None of these pendejos knew half of what was coming. Even the refugees down in the docks thought the Citadel would keep them safe. “People are whispering about it, talking about it. But they don’t really believe it.”

“It’s hard to comprehend unless you see it yourself,” Shepard said. “Take it this is the first time you’ve rubbed elbows with the highborn elites?”

James shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ve been to the Citadel, but never to the Presidium.” Why would he? He was just a marine. “It’s… not right. Calm and peaceful, pretty even, but not right. It’s all…”

“Just an illusion,” Shepard finished the sentence. “It used to be peaceful… a while ago.”

James shook his head. There’d always be another fight. Soldiers like him and the Commander existed so places like this could stay under their spell. “Was it really? When push comes to shove, they’re just gonna turtle up, hope it don’t hit them too. They’d rather believe this than face the truth.” He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder at the shining buildings outside the window untouched by carnage and war.

“Everything that happened on Earth seems like some kind of nightmare… I keep waking up into more nightmares.” She squeezed her eyes shut. James saw two glittering lines shoot down her cheeks.

Everything James Vega knew about crying pretty women told him to wipe away her tears. “That’s what I hate most,” James said. “It’s like this place wants you to forget that.” He reached out a hand that Shepard blocked with the automatic defensiveness of someone who was used to being attacked rather than comforted. Her arm felt like a steel beam.

“Can you not? I’ve had enough people get in my personal space today.” She shoved his hand away. “You still wanna go back to Earth?”

“Hell yeah, but…”

“But?” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“You were right. So was Anderson. We can’t stop them alone.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m always right. I’m Commander Goddamn Shepard.”

James smiled at that. “Besides, you’ll need some help getting these pendejo politicians to help us. I’m up for it. Whatever it takes.”

“Glad to hear it.” Shepard looked at him and returned the smile. It was small, but it made her scars look a little better.

“Ven conmigo. I’m going down to some of the lower levels, where they keep it real.”

“I think I’ll do that.” Shepard followed him out of the embassy and seemed to relax a little more as the elevator went lower and lower, back down to the docking bays. One of those creepy Keeper things scuttled across the walkway in front of them. It stopped, turned around, and approached Shepard.

“That’s weird,” James said.

The Keeper lowered its little head toward Shepard’s hand.

“Oh!” Shepard reached out and patted it like she would a dog. “Didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“Uh… Commander,” James said, “que estás haciendo?”

“Petting a Keeper, what’s it look like?” She scratched the strip of skin between its giant eyes with the tip of a fingernail.

Something caught her attention. She looked over to where a Turian soldier was talking to his wife, an Asari wearing an orange dress. They were saying something about bills and their kids.

“Hope he comes back safe,” Shepard said. “Growing up without a parent is…”

“Shit,” James said.

Shepard nodded. “I lost my mom when I was four. Never had a dad.”

“Any grandparents? Tios? Tias?”

Shepard shook her head. “If I did, I had no idea who they were.”

“My mom died when I was little too. Dad is out there somewhere, I guess. Not sure I’d call him family. My uncle is the reason I joined the marines. Only good thing in my life, really.”

“My mom was… well I say she’s a hooker, but she was like fifteen when I was born. That’s not prostitution, that’s trafficking. Never had a family until I joined the military.”

The Keeper she’d been petting made an indignant cooing noise.

“Fine, you greedy little shit.” Shepard scratched it under what James assumed to be its chin.

“Do I want to know?” James asked, still eyeballing the four-legged, four-armed leathery creature that everyone knew you weren’t supposed to touch.

“I got curious and pet this little guy tracking an amateur assassin with his terminally ill father to prevent a murder.” Shepard chuckled as the Keeper let out a high, trilling purr. “Guess he liked it.”

“Now I just have more questions.” James crossed his arms. He’d heard plenty about Commander Shepard. Everyone had. She was a living legend throughout Alliance space. However, none of those stories included adventures with assassins or going Disney Princess on weird little creatures that avoided every other organic being on the Citadel.

“I’ll have to tell you about it when Ash wakes up. She’ll keep me honest.” Shepard yawned. Her Keeper friend scuttled away, finally getting its fill of affection. “Fuck, how long have I been awake?”

“Didn’t you sleep when you went up to your cabin after we got off Mars?” James asked.

“Hardly. I took a shower, tried to eat something, checked on Ash in the med bay again. I haven’t even walked around my ship to see what the Alliance did to it.”

That was why she looked exhausted. Even James had found the time for a quick catnap.

“Just go on to the ship, Commander.”

“Don’t stay out too long, Vega. We ship out for Palaven in two hours.” She glanced back towards the couple. “I’m kind of jealous. That woman’s going to have the best sex of her life when he comes back.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen a Turian couple,” James said. He wondered why that was. Obviously there had to be plenty of them for the single largest military in the galaxy to have a continual supply of soldiers. But he’d never witnessed what he would recognize as affection between Turian men and women.

Shepard shrugged. “They do things a little different with their own species.”

James hated to see Commander Shepard leave, but damn did he love watching her go.

But it feels a little like sleepwalking.

Chapter Text

I think about you, baby,

And I dream about you all the time.

Paragon

Shepard entered through the combat deck airlock and found barely anyone on the deck. She paged the cockpit from the galaxy map. “Joker, you up there?”

“Aye aye, Commander. We’ve got orders?”

“We ship out for Palaven in two hours.”

“Palaven? Don’t tell me this is a rescue mission for your scale-brained boyfriend.”

Shepard took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to bitch him out. Not right now.

“The Commander has orders to retrieve the Primarch of Palaven for a war summit,” EDI said, coming to Shepard’s rescue.

“Oh, well that’s fine then,” Joker said.

“Just… I don’t have the energy for your sass right now, Joker. I’ve been awake for fuck knows how long. Please lay off.”

“Just remember, Commander, he left you. ”

Can’t argue with that…

Shepard went up to her room, stripped off her clothes, and crawled into a bed that was too well-made for her to have been the one to do it. Whenever they remodeled her ship, someone had also gone through her room and touched all her stuff. She pulled Garrus’s shirt on and set about turning the sheets and blankets into a twisted nest. She curled herself around a pillow and desperately wished it was rough, spiky, and smelled like spent thermal clips and hot metal.

Garrus’s dad was supposed to be good friends with Primarch Fedorian. Maybe she could ask him for any news when there was some downtime.

Why do you care? He left you. He made his choice.

…He had his reasons…

What’s more important? Stopping the Reapers or you?

The Reapers. Obviously.

You were supposed to do this together.

I got arrested!

And he didn’t wait for you. He wasn’t there when you got out. He didn’t even try to contact you, break down the door to Alliance HQ if he had to.

“EDI, can you turn my music on, please?” Shepard asked.

“Certainly, Shepard,” EDI said. The speakers began rumbling with low bass as EDI adjusted the volume and balance to Shepard’s preferred settings. “How are you feeling, Commander?”

“Like shit. But here I am.”

She was in a dark forest. A gray sky roiled with clouds. Shepard half expected to see lightning or hear thunder, but there was nothing. The scar on her chest remained silent. The black, barren trees moved in a breeze she couldn’t feel. The air was dead. Something black fell from the sky like snow. She reached out to try and catch some, but it dissolved in her hand. A carpet of dead leaves spread out under her bare feet. She took a step but didn’t hear it crunch or crackle.

Shepard heard a faint laugh that sounded like a child. She looked up from her hand to see a little boy in a white sweatshirt running back and forth between the trees with his toy spaceship. Something told her to run after him. He wasn’t safe here. Her body moved like she was trapped in molasses. Everything was slow and heavy.

Come back! Shepard tried to call to him, but nothing came out of her mouth. He disappeared behind a tree, only to reappear a few hundred feet ahead of her crouching down near a bench between two trees. Shepard kept running, trying in vain to catch up to him. When she finally did, he was crouching down and trying to hide. A white light that flashed to red burned in the sky, lighting his face like a skull. He clutched his hands over his ears as the loud bass pulse of a Reaper blew through the otherwise quiet forest.

The little boy ran away from Shepard, and she sprinted after him. She reached out a hand, begging him to take it, but a fire started at his feet and burned him to ash right in front of her. His expression didn’t change, he just looked up at her with blank eyes.

You couldn’t help me.

Joker

“Oh. Well, that’s fine then,” Joker said. If he never saw Garrus Vakarian again in his life, it’d be too soon. If he did see the boneheaded asshat again, Joker didn’t care how badly it would hurt, he was going to punch a Turian in the face.

“Just… I don’t have the energy for your sass right now, Joker. I’ve been awake for fuck knows how long. Please lay off.”

Please? Shep doesn’t say please. Not to me.

“Just remember, Commander, he left you. ”

“Jeff, the Commander has been through a lot,” EDI said. “She is under tremendous amounts of stress.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joker said. He stared out the cockpit window at the line of ships waiting for a dock to open up.

Joker had a sister back home on his little ass-end of nowhere colony, Tiptree. Tiffany had her fair share of shitty boyfriends, and Joker being a frail sonofabitch hadn’t been able to do much about them. He could do something for Shepard, though. She didn’t have to suffer because some dumbass couldn’t be a man and say goodbye. A little tough love and Shepard would bounce back, bright eyed and bushy tailed, the same as she always was.

But what if she doesn’t this time?

Shepard sounded bad. Worse than bad. She sounded like someone had kicked the shit out of her. Joker didn’t want to know what she looked like if she sounded like that. Sure, she’d been a little different after waking up from being dead for two years, but there at the end of their run on the Collectors she started to sound like the Shepard he knew from when he first started on the Normandy. The Shepard who didn’t give a fuck that her pilot could break an ankle by tripping over a doorjamb as long as he could fly the ship.

Yes, if Joker ever laid eyes on Shepard’s alien boyfriend again, he might just kill the pathetic excuse for a man.

Observer

Liara knocked on Shepard’s door. According to Joker, she’d gone up there a couple of hours ago. Liara felt guilty potentially interrupting Shepard’s sleep, but EDI said that the Commander was awake. Liara could hear music playing from the other side of the door.

“Come in,” Shepard’s muffled voice was barely audible.

The door opened and Liara found Commander Shepard sitting on her bed wrapped in blankets. She offered Shepard the cup of coffee in her hands, and the Commander gladly accepted. Liara had made sure this one was decaf. Shepard still needed to rest.

She sat down on the bed next to the Commander. “I’ve been forwarding the Turian Councilor information on the Prothean device. We need Council support, but–”

“He won’t move forward until the Primarch is safe. Yeah, I get it.” Shepard sipped the coffee and found it satisfactory. “Kind of a dumb move that they’ve got one guy in charge of all their decisions. We moved past emperors and kings a few hundred years ago.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Liara said. The intricacies of the Turian government were neither here nor there, however. “Shepard, are you alright?”

Shepard scowled like she’d tasted something bitter. It couldn’t be the coffee. Liara had maybe gone a little overboard with cream and sugar. “Everyone keeps asking me that. I… had another nightmare.”

“Like the ones from the beacon?”

“No. Different.” Shepard shook her head like she was trying to clear it. “Liara, when the Reapers hit, I could hear people screaming in the streets below me. This wasn’t fighting. It was wholesale slaughter. And I left . Me. Commander Goddamn Shepard turned tail and ran off into the stars while the city I grew up in burned.”

“Shepard.” Liara pushed the blankets back from Shepard’s face. She was wearing a shirt much too big for her that zipped closed at the neck. One look at the shoulders told Liara it was sized for a Turian. “You couldn’t save them all. There’s no way. You’re just one woman.”

Goddess, she’d fucked that up. Shepard looked like she was about to start crying. Again. To her credit, however, the Commander didn’t let a single tear fall. Liara wondered if that was healthy.

“But I know you’re doing everything you can,” Liara said hastily. “You’ll get back there in time to help.”

“I hope you’re right,” Shepard said.

“Would you like to come downstairs? It’s my turn to cook.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Shepard handed Liara the coffee mug and crawled out of her blanket nest. She started pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

“Commander,” a small voice said from the hallway. “I’m Specialist Traynor and– Oh!” The young Human woman’s eyes darted between Shepard, who had one leg in her pants, and Liara who was sitting on Shepard’s bed. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, I… oh god…” She hid her dark, round face behind a data pad. The translucent screen did little to hide the expression of utter embarrassment.

“It’s fine, Samantha,” Liara said. “Shepard was just getting ready to come down to the crew deck for some dinner.”

“Comm Specialist Samantha Traynor, Alliance R&D,” Samantha said, saluting Shepard. The Commander pulled her other leg through her sweatpants and returned the salute. “I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after it was turned over to the Alliance. There weren’t many of us aboard when the Reapers hit.”

“Slow down, Specialist Traynor, you’re doing fine.” Shepard’s demeanor seemed to morph in an instant. She adopted a genuine, warm smile that smoothed out all but the worst of her scars. She reminded Liara of an older student at the University of Serrice that had taken Liara under her wing for the duration of her doctoral program.

“Thank you,” Samantha said. “I worked in a lab. I never thought I’d be serving on a ship.” She paused, squinted, and tilted her head like she was trying to hear something. “Commander… is that…are you listening to…”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me shit about my music taste, got it, Traynor? I know it’s not exactly in vogue anymore.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, Commander.”

Specialist

Shepard laughed. “Come on. Everyone’s got a comment or twelve.”

“It’s just a little unexpected.” Samantha looked down at the floor and quickly tucked her short, black hair behind her ear.

“Why don’t you tell me about the retrofits?” Shepard smiled at her again. Her smile was wide, the corners of her red lips pushed up into full cheeks that crinkled the corners of sparkling green eyes. Her red hair was falling out of a low ponytail. The bangs were straight, but the very ends of her hair were trying to turn into waves. Freckles across her nose looked to have been placed there by a painter.

Am I starstruck or am I in love?

Shepard and Liara stepped into the elevator with Samantha while she described the changes made to the Normandy. Everything was in accordance with Alliance regulations now. The comm room had been outfitted with quantum entanglement communicators, top of the line. It was even an improvement over the broken one that they’d found in the Normandy SR2’s briefing room when it had been impounded.

The elevator door opened to reveal a memorial wall built into the crew deck. Shepard approached it and looked at the Alliance emblem set into the top center. Twenty-three names in all were recorded. The Commander reached up a hand and ran her fingers over two: Kaiden Alenko and Charles Pressley. Shepard seemed to age five years in an instant, and reversed the hands of time just as quickly. If Samantha hadn’t been watching the Commander closely, she would have missed it.

“Admiral Anderson had intended to use the Normandy as his mobile command center,” Samantha said as she finished her report.

“And that’s no longer an option,” Shepard said. “He decided to stay on Earth.”

“Yes, I heard he chose to stay and fight. In any event, I’m honored to serve under you, Commander.” She stammered through the next sentence. “F-for as long as you need me, that is. They only sent me to oversee the retrofits.”

“Shepard, some of our systems require further testing, and Specialist Traynor has been extremely effective during installation.” The VI’s voice came from out of the crew deck intercom. Her terminal was near the table Shepard had come to occupy with Samantha while Liara started her turn at kitchen duty. “I would prefer if she remained,” the VI said.

The VI preferred ? Who had coded it? And why oh why had they given it the sexiest voice imaginable?

“You got it, EDI,” Shepard said.

“Wait…” Samantha’s brain started to put things together that she’d been ignoring for far too long. “Since when does a virtual intelligence make requests?”

“Oh, EDI’s an AI. Fully self-aware. We took off her shackles when the Collectors hit the Normandy six months ago.” Shepard took a sip of her coffee. Whether the mug was too hot for her to hold with her bare hands, or she just like having the sleeves of her shirt down over her fingertips was yet to be seen.

Why was the Commander so casual about that? Surely it had to be a joke. It was a joke, right? Something to haze the newbie? By the gods… it wasn’t a joke. Shepard was serious.

“I knew it!” Samantha cried. “I knew Joker was lying!”

“Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI to protect myself. I apologize for the deception.”

“Thanks, EDI…” Samantha felt heat rise in her cheeks in preparation for what she was going to have to say next. “And I apologize for all those times I talked about how… attractive… your voice was.”

“Eh, just don’t let Joker hear you say it,” Shepard said. “If anyone’s fucking the ship, it’s him.” She chuckled and it ended in a sigh.

Samantha looked around the room. “This is… a lot. I’m still trying to get my bearings. When I was working on the retrofits, I left at the end of the day. I didn’t even have a change of clothes or a toothbrush when we left Earth.”

“I’m sure I can reimburse you. We’re all in this together,” Sheprad said.

“Oh!” Samantha’s eyes went wide. “It’s no trouble, Commander. I’m sure you have larger concerns.”

“Sam. How much.” Shepard flipped open her omni-tool.

“My toothbrush is a Cision Pro Mark 4. It uses tiny mass effect fields to break up plaque and massage the gums. It… costs six thousand credits.”

The Commander briefly blanched. Her green eyes grew tight and Samantha thought she saw one of them twitch. “Okay. Is this a toothbrush or a fucking vibrator?”

“Toothbrush. I assure you, Commander. I’d never dream of requisitioning anything nonessential.”

“Fine. I moonlighted as an arms dealer once. I’ve still got spare cash kicking around. For your toothbrush.” She transferred the money to Samantha. “So… where are you from?”

“A colony in the Terminus systems,” Samantha stated. “But I studied on Earth at Oxford.”

“Explains the accent,” Shepard muttered. She glanced up at Samantha and quickly added, “I didn’t mean it to be… mean. Your accent is cute!”

“My parents were from London,” Samantha said. “They loved Earth, but they wanted the freedom colony life could offer. If they stayed on Earth, I imagine they’d be dead now.”

Commander Shepard thinks my accent is cute.

Commander Shepard thinks my accent is cute!!

“Don’t talk like that. A lot of people are still alive, Sam. And they’re counting on us.”

Commander Shepard thinks my accent is cute and she’s calling me Sam!

Maybe she was starstruck.

“Commander, can I ask you a personal question?” Samantha picked at her nails.

“Go ahead,” Shepard replied. Nobody else had come to speak with the Commander yet. She leaned back against the wall wearing an ill-fitting shirt that was much too big for her. The garment obviously meant something to her. She’d even had it during her escape from earth, the sleeves tied around her neck underneath her jacket.

“Can I ask where you got the shirt?” Samantha looked more closely at the dark fabric. It wasn’t intended for sleeping. The heavy kinetic weaving looked like something worn under armor, and the neck zipped closed like a pullover. The bottom of the zipper itself sat just under the Commander’s breasts.

“I fucked a Turian,” the Commander said curtly.

A passing crewman misunderstood the statement. “Whoa, Commander, that’s amazing! How’d you fuck up a Turian good enough to pull the shirt off his back?” Shepard silenced him and sent him away with a glare out from under her bangs.

“Commander, did I hear that correctly?” Samatha asked. Growing up in the Terminus Systems hadn’t given Samantha Traynor the same interspecies prejudice as someone born in Alliance space, but a little bit of good-natured animosity towards Turians had rubbed off on her. She was content to let bygones be bygones. The First Contact War was thirty years ago, and instead of becoming a client species Humanity had been brought to a place of prominence in the galaxy. It certainly could have been worse.

“Yes, Specialist Traynor. You did.” Tears sparkled along Commander Shepard’s lower lashline. “I would… rather not talk about it. It’s kind of a sore spot for me.”

“Bad break-up?”

“No… he just kind of left. No warning.” Despite reportedly not wanting to talk, Commander Shepard was an open book. “We started this fight together, three years ago. He was C-Sec, had info on Saren Arterius that I needed. Hell of a sniper. Man was fucking me from behind the barrel of a gun long before either of us knew that’s what the hell was going on. When I came back from the dead… I guess we both realized a lot of things.”

“Why did he leave?” Samantha asked.

“He’s got family that’s sort of a big deal on their homeworld, and because of the war… That means he could start to ready the Turian military forces.” Shepard stared down into her coffee. “I just hope that he was able to do it. That he’s okay.”

“Commander, Admiral Hackett wants to speak to you on the vid-comm,” EDI said.

“Ass, I need to change clothes. Don’t think he’d appreciate talking to me in my pajamas.”

Chapter Text

I can see you in my mind clearly.

I can feel you and I am waiting by your side.

Paragon

Shepard still felt rattled from her nightmare. A little amiable conversation with the new Comm Specialist cheered her up a bit, but nothing had been able to get her body to settle down like waking up next to someone. A very particular someone who could silence her scattered brain with a siren song of needles and knives tenderly dragging over her skin.

Cool your thrusters, Shepard, you were only fucking Garrus for what, a few weeks?

He’d gotten very good at having sex with a Human in those few weeks, though, and whatever it was that happened on their last morning together still filled her wildest dreams. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her. Now she knew why, though. It had been because he was leaving her.

That’s right. He left.

She started trying to build a cage around her feelings. She didn’t have time to be sad. She was Commander Goddamn Shepard.

Hackett liked Shepard’s plan to appeal directly to the leadership of the Asari, Salarians, and Turians. Cut the Council out altogether. The Salarians were reluctant to fully engage though. The Reapers hadn’t gotten there yet and it was still relatively safe. All intelligence pointed to Humans and Turians being hit first after the Reapers destroyed whatever remained of the Batarian Hegemony.

And if the other species fall, that’s your fault too.

She needed to make sure this war summit went off without a hitch. Anything that could buy Hackett time to build the Prothean device. Liara was calling it the Crucible.

“What about Earth, sir?” Shepard asked the Admiral.

“We’ll just have to hope that Anderson and what’s left of the Alliance forces can hold out until we’ve dealt with the enemy.”

“I understand.” Shepard nodded.

“Good. I expect regular updates on your progress. Hackett out.”

Shepard needed to get her boat ready to ship out. First order of business was to go bitch out Joker in the cockpit. She was thankful for the closed door between this area of the ship and the rest of the combat deck.

“Hey, asshole,” Shepard said, coming up behind his chair.

“‘Sup, slut?” Joker turned his chair around. He’d apparently convinced the Alliance to keep the leather seats. “Y’know, I had my doubts about the Council, but after years of ignoring you they’re finally willing to step up and tell you they just can’t help.”

“Oh my god, I fucking know, right?” Shepard groaned loudly. “Like, what the actual factual hell?”

“Part of me hoped they were planning something this whole time and keeping it a secret from you because, you know, Cerberus shit.” He swiveled the pilot’s chair to face the front windows once more. “Let me know if you want me to call them so you can hang up on them, for old time’s sake.”

“Not yet,” Shepard said. “I might take you up on it if they keep being morons.”

“I would have done it.”

“Yeah. I regret being so damn polite to them three years ago.” Shepard leaned against the back of Joker’s chair, arms folded on the top of the headrest.

“We were waiting for you to wake up before we left the Citadel dock. Want us to head to Palaven?”

“I want to double-check a few things first.”

Specialist Traynor had something for her from Admiral Hackett. A Cerberus lab had been found on Sanctum and they wanted Shepard to investigate.

“Perks of having a stealth frigate,” Shepard said. “Joker’s gonna regret those leather seats when he’s sweating like a pig.”

Could she delay this until after the Primarch was secure? If the fighting on Palaven was as bad as it sounded, she needed to extract him first. A pit stop between Palaven and Sur’Kesh surely couldn’t be too much of a problem. It would give the Primarch time to get his bearings and prepare for the war summit. It wasn’t like Cerberus was going anywhere.

Shepard roamed her ship like a ghost treading the ground where she’d died. It felt empty. The old armory had been converted to storage. Mordin’s tech lab was totally gutted. Kasumi and Samara weren’t on the observation decks. She sat on the floor where she’d meditate with the Justicar. The bar seemed empty without the master thief’s collection of stolen goods. Dr. Chakwas gave her a check up and a mostly clean bill of health.

“Everyone’s talking about family,” Shepard said as the doctor ran some scans. “Have you got any?”

Dr. Chakwas shook her head. “No. I’m the last of a prestigious line of medical professionals.”

“No partner? No kids?” Shepard furrowed her brow.

“I’m blessed with many close friends,” Dr. Chakwas said. “The Alliance is my spouse and you are all my children.” She held Shepard’s face in her hands much like a mother would. At least Shepard thought a mother would do this. She’d seen it a lot in vids growing up. “Our med bay is well stocked, Jane. There’s enough supplies here to last us a while even with the amount of fire you take.”

“Just… warn me if it starts looking like I’m doing it on purpose.” Shepard pulled her jacket down so Dr. Chakwas could check out the rest of her scars. The matronly doctor’s eyes lingered on the start of Shepard’s sleeve of dates. She needed to get today… yesterday? Whatever day the Reapers hit Earth was her next one. At the top of the sleeve was a shepherd’s crook crossed with a scythe.

“I will, Commander. There’s at least one person on this ship you can’t hide anything from.” Dr. Chakwas held up her omni-tool. “I’ve got a constant readout of your vitals and other biometrics.”

Shepard didn’t have the heart to poke her head into the AI core where Legion wasn’t. She cast a forlorn glance at the main battery. Liara bustled around her office. Miranda’s old room had been turned into the Shadow Broker’s new base of operations. She’d even gotten the little VI drone, Glyph, to be less insufferable.

Liara pored over the information she’d gathered on the Protheans and their weapon, trying to make sense of it. Shepard thought to maybe leave her to it, but then she noticed the dark purple shadows under Liara’s eyes.

“Liara, you need to rest,” Shepard said. “What would Ash do to me if she gets better only to find you’ve worked yourself into the hospital?”

“I just… we need to know what we’re dealing with, Shepard. If this weapon backfires…”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to know we’re not kids playing with a loaded gun,” Shepard agreed. “But seriously. If we’re going to Palaven and getting the Primarch, I need you in fighting shape. You and James are the only combatants on this ship. Nobody else has seen the kind of things we’ve seen.”

“You’re one to talk, Commander.” Liara paused. “Are you going to be okay for this mission? I know Palaven was where–”

“Not talking about MIA alien ex-boyfriends right now,” Shepard said quickly. “So, you wrecked your old ship on a Cerberus cruiser?” She arched an eyebrow at Liara.

“I wish you could have seen it,” Liara said. “It was fucking awesome.”

“Okay. I’m seriously never getting used to hearing you say the word ‘fuck’.”

Liara cleared her throat. “Fuck fuckity fuck shit ass damn hell.”

Shepard stared at her open-mouthed before the pair of them devolved into giggles.

“Dammit, if your dad could hear you right now she’d either be proud or wash your mouth out with soap!” Shepard hooted.

“Bitch. I missed one.” Liara primly crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap.

“There’s way more than that, Liara.”

“I’m a quick study.” She turned back to her terminal. “This artifact is fascinating.” Liara pulled up the schematic for the weapon the size of a space station. “I’d have killed for a glimpse of it in graduate school.”

She’d done way more than kill for it at this point. Shepard left Liara to her data with the requirement that she be in bed by 2200 hours. The info drone, Glyph, stated that it set an alarm to remind Liara.

The reporter, Diana, set herself up in Zaeed’s old cargo hold. There were still a few knife-marks on the walls from where he’d try target practice. The other hold was empty. Shepard’s Krogan son was somewhere on Tuchanka, probably. Hopefully Wrex knew how to handle him. Jack’s hold below the engine room seemed larger without the waifish biotic down there. Tali’s space in the engine room had been taken over by Lieutenant Engineer Adams. It had been what, two and a half, three years since Shepard had seen him? His family was safe, at least. Didn’t have much to worry about there. She headed down one more level to the shuttle bay.

Pilot

Commander Shepard exited the elevator. Lieutenant Pilot Steve Cortez turned around and saluted her. “Commander, I’ve got news about our supply chains.”

“At ease soldier,” she said, motioning for him to drop the salute. She had a relaxed air about her, or maybe she was just tired. Everyone on the ship still seemed to be in shock after their mad dash to escape Earth. Shepard reached out to shake his hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong for a woman. She was probably a couple of inches shorter than Steve himself, and at least fifty pounds lighter. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Sorry to jump in on you like that,” Steve said. “There’s so much to be done. I get caught up in the tasks at hand.”

“He’s always like that,” Vega called over. “You need to chill out Esteban!”

“So you do care, Mr. Vega? Or is that the cerveza talking again?” Steve ribbed.

“You’ll fit right in. We’re all workaholics here.” Shepard smiled at Steve. “Maybe we can start a support group or something. Also, please tell me that he doesn’t drink Dos Equis. That shit’s hardly worth the drain it gets poured down.”

Vega started grumbling something in Spanish while Shepard rolled her eyes. “So,” she turned her attention back to Steve, “you said something about supply chains? Aren’t you my shuttle pilot?”

“I wasn’t assigned as the pilot, not much need for one on a dry-docked ship,” Steve explained. “I was overseeing the retrofit of the cargo hold. I’m very familiar with Kodiak shuttles and the M44 Hammerhead. I kind of took over the post when we left Earth.”

“Good deal. By the way… where the hell’s my Hammerhead?” Shepard looked around the bay for the light, mobile vehicle.

“About that…” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “After someone who will remain nameless,” he glared pointedly across the room at James Vega, “blew out its speakers blasting Celine Dion, it was sent to a repair depot to get its armor upgraded. Then they got curious about the VI, and then Earth got attacked.”

“Greatest voice of all time!” Vega called out.

“It also made sense that I take the post due to Mr. Vega’s love of midair collisions.” Steve crossed his arms.

“To save the day, pendejo. Ay caramba, I get no respect,” Vega snapped.

“So is that a normal thing with him?” Shepard asked. “Am I going to have a problem?”

Steve shook his head. “Not as long as I’m in the driver’s seat. I started out flying Tridents, and got a bit of a reputation for tinkering on my bird.”

“Love me a soldier who can maintain his own equipment,” Shepard said. “One less thing to worry about.”

“Speaking of maintaining equipment, you wanna tell me who modified half the guns we found in the armory during the retrofits? I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“How familiar are you with someone named Archangel?” Shepard asked. Her eyes dimmed a bit.

“Heard the name around the extranet. Some vigilante running a train on Omega’s crime rate. Some people think he’s dead.”

“As of six months ago, he was very much alive. And the man’s a fucking gun savant. Doesn’t matter what kind, from a pistol to a Thanix cannon, he can squeeze every ounce of firepower out of a weapon and then some. Only sapient being I’ve ever trusted to mess with my guns.”

Steve looked over at the weapon locker. “Well that Mantis in there doesn’t shoot straight.”

“There’s a trick to it. If you know, you know. Not just anyone shoots our guns.”

Our guns? Bet they were close.

“So, Cortez, you were stationed on Earth. Any family?”

He shook his head. “My parents died years ago.”

“Same.” Shepard reached out and squeezed his hand. “Orphan or did they die a little more recently than that?”

“I was already an adult at the time. I had a husband, back when I was stationed at Ferris Fields. The Collectors took out the whole colony. I’d… rather not talk about it.”

Shepard dropped his hand. “Steve… I’m so sorry.” Tears welled up in her eyes but she willed them away.

“It’s fine… it was a long time ago.”

No. No it wasn’t.

It wasn’t that long ago at all. Steve still had nightmares about the attack, the last message he’d received.

“I really don’t want to make this about me,” Shepard said, “but I really feel like that was my fault. At least a bit.”

“Commander, you were dead. There’s nothing you could have done.”

She cast about for something else to talk about. He could see the gears in her mind turning. “So, you maintain the armory too?”

“I share that duty with our illustrious Mr. Vega.” Steve cupped a hand around his mouth. “Though I believe the only weapon he cares to maintain is himself!”

Vega had started doing pull-ups. He was going faster than normal, probably trying to show off for the Commander. Steve couldn’t wait for that venture to crash and burn. It’d be a nice show, and maybe humble Vega a little bit.

“You know you love the show, Esteban!”

Steve did like the show. Vega was decent to look at, and Steve had a thing for the strongman type, but with that personality? No way. “Anyway,” Steve said to Shepard, “the first retrofit was to move the armory down from deck two. No idea what the hell Cerberus was thinking.”

“I asked myself that a lot,” Shepard said. “Still can’t figure it out.”

“We’ve got her set up just like the SR1 now. Welcome back to the Alliance, Commander.”

“It’s good to be back. I just wish it were under better circumstances.” Shepard pursed her lips and exhaled sharply. “Everyone on the ship seems nice. It’s just…”

“Not what you’re used to?” Steve supplied.

“Yeah.” Shepard nodded. “Definitely not what I got used to.” She tugged at the collar of her jacket.

“You okay, Shepard?” Steve asked. “You look like you’re coming down with something.”

She shrugged. “Dr. Chakwas gave me a clean check up. This jacket’s just a lot warmer than it looks. And I don’t exactly have much on underneath it.”

“Ah. Miss the freedom of a civvie ship?”

“Kinda. I’m gonna go check on James. Don’t kill yourself, okay? A good shuttle pilot’s hard to come by.” Shepard smiled again. “I’m serious about that support group. Workaholics Anonymous.”

“Don’t think we’ll be anonymous on this ship,” Steve said. He lowered his voice. “By the way, watch out for Vega. Shameless flirt.”

“He’s just going to get his heart broken,” she replied. “I’m… technically taken.”

Steve decided to go with his instincts. “That Archangel guy?”

Shepard nodded. “Communication in and out of Palaven is restricted, so I’ve got no fucking idea whether he’s alive or dead. And I’ve got to give him a piece of my goddamn mind.”

“Wait. He’s a Turian?” Steve’s eyes widened. His eyes swept over the Commander. “You…”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Yes, Steve. I fucked a Turian.”

“H-how does that work?” he whispered.

“It’s surprisingly straightforward. It’s not like they lay eggs or anything.” Shepard shrugged.

“You’re awfully nonchalant about this. Didn’t we fight a war with them? Within our lifetimes?”

“Yeah, and?” Shepard just blinked at him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have dated one.” She flipped back and forth between describing her relationship in present and past tense. Steve almost wondered what was going on there, but decided against asking about it in more detail. Commander Shepard could try and do whatever or whoever she wanted, but not everyone would be as okay with it.

He took a very deep breath. “Look, I say this because I don’t want you to get any flak, you may want to keep that on the downlow. At least around the Alliance crew. Relations with the Turians are still… testy… as far as the military is concerned.”

“I guess you have a point.” Her shoulders dropped. “Nobody really cared on the old crew. I mean… Cerberus guys thought I was a weirdo, but I didn’t give half a shit what they thought. Joker, Dr. Chakwas, the away team, none of them really minded. Except for one other guy who had a thing for me.”

“Well, again, just watch out for James before you find yourself in another love triangle.”

Candidate

Shepard crossed her arms and watched James haul himself up over the bar. 

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Are you going to keep doing that, or are you going to get down here and talk to me?”

“How’d it go with the Council?”

“Same as usual. Noncommittal. Unhelpful. I have a Quarian friend who’d call them all fucking bosh’tets. No direct translation, but the closest we were able to find is ‘dumbass’.”

“Bet they still wanted you to help them out, no?” James grunted through another rep.

“Okay, seriously, Vega, get the fuck down.” Shepard glared up at him. “Your CO is trying to have a conversation with you.”

“I’m skilled at multitasking.” For instance, Vega was working on his record, checking out Shepard from a very good angle, and talking to the Commander all at once.

“Whatever. We’re rescuing the Turian Primarch from Palaven.”

“Sounds like fun,” James said. “Never been to the Turian homeworld.”

“From what I hear, it’s a lovely place full of deadly solar radiation unless you’ve got metal embedded in your skin. Hopefully the moon base is a little better. I don’t exactly do well in the sun.” Shepard tossed her ginger hair out of her eyes.

“You down here for a reason?”

“Thought I’d come talk. Say hi. It’s kind of my thing.”

“Great,” James said. “Not sure what there is to talk about.” He finished another set of ten pull ups. “You already know my service record.”

“No. Didn’t have access to personnel files when we met.”

“Right.” James dropped down from the bar. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and made his shirt stick to his shoulders. Well, think you can dance and talk at the same time?” He rolled his shoulders to loosen them up.

“I don’t dance, but I do spar.”

“Okay, Lola,” he said. “Let’s dance.”

“Lola?” Shepard arched a brow at him, kicking off her boots. She squared up with him in the middle of the shuttle bay after tying her jacket around her waist. Underneath it, she was all steel and marble. 

“It suits you.” Vega winked suggestively, trying to throw her off guard. It didn’t work.

“Don’t push your luck, Vega. With age comes wisdom and rank.” She gave him a lopsided smile. Shepard was pretty when she smiled. She ought to do it more often. It made her eyes shine.

Fuck. This might be harder than I thought.

Her toes tapped on the ground and James could hear something faintly coming out of her earpiece. She pounced at him, aiming for his face. He blocked each of the blows but not before she made contact. She pulled every punch.

“Ha! You sound like my old CO.” James tried to land a hit of his own, but Shepard deftly outmaneuvered him. She twirled herself just out of reach.

“Who was that?” Shepard asked.

They went back and forth as James told her all about Captain Toni and what a good leader he was. Shepard got in a few lucky hits while he was distracted. “Nice,” he complimented her.

“What do you mean, was a good leader?” Shepard asked. She sprang to the side out of range of James’s counterattack.

“Died with most of my squad. Collector attack on a civilian colony.” They circled one another.

“And the colony?” Shepard asked the question like she already knew the answer.

“It was either them or the intel we had on the Collectors,” James said. “Intel we could have used to destroy them.” He got more aggressive. Shepard held her ground, blocking punches rather than avoiding them. James admitted his greatest shame. “I chose the intel.” He geared up for a harder punch, but Shepard leapt back, landing like a deer.

“Sorry James. That must have been a tough call to make.”

He didn’t want her pity. “The best part was, we didn’t really need the intel in the end…”

Shepard dropped her fists. “Because I took out the entire Collector homeworld.”

“Bingo, Lola.” James thought he had his opening, but Shepard was ready for him. She kept backing up, dodging and blocking.

“James, you didn’t know. You can’t blame yourself.” She ducked low, trying to aim for his ankles.

“Who says I’m blaming myself?”

“I do.” Shepard didn’t pull the next punch. James’s head snapped back. He was getting his ass kicked by a woman at least four inches shorter than himself.

“You a shrink too?” he asked her.

“I had a really good one, learned a lot from her.” Shepard had him on the defensive now. “Vega, that stunt back on Mars was reckless. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“So?”

“Look, dumbass, maybe you don’t give a shit if you live or die–”

“Or maybe I’m just willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to end this goddamned war!”

Commander Shepard caught James by the arms and flipped him onto his ass. “Maybe you are. But if you’re half the soldier I think you can be, we need you alive.”

James pushed himself back to standing. “Thanks for the pep talk. And thanks for the dance, Lola.”

“Okay. What’s with the nicknames?” Shepard put her hands on her hips and cocked one out to the side. A thin sheen of sweat caught the light and glistened on the edges of her muscles.

“I can think of worse things to call you. Or better. Maybe you’d prefer mi amor?”

“Mother of god, please no,” Shepard groaned. “I’ll stick with Lola if you won’t call me Shepard. Just… not on missions, okay?”

“Sometimes people just don’t match their names, so I just give them a new one. You definitely need something with a little more attitude than ‘Jane’.”

“And that’s why nobody calls me by my first name,” Shepard said. She crossed her arms. “You’d do well to remember that, Mr. Vega.”

“Where’d you learn to fight?”

“I’m used to going toe to toe with Krogan and Turians. Got some lessons from a Drell assassin.” Shepard sat on a stack of boxes and twisted one of her legs back and forth. James wondered if Humans were supposed to bend that way, and part of him really wanted to find out. “Tell me more about that mission against the Collectors.”

“We were stationed on Fehl Prime. I was one of the few to make it out alive. If you want the rest of the story, you’re going to have to get me really drunk or… well, really drunk is it. Not interested in talking about that.”

Shepard held up her hands. “Hey. That’s your boundary and I respect that. If you wanna swap sole survivor stories, let me know. I’ll listen.”

“Sure thing, Lola.”

“So… can we talk about that? Are you sure you can’t make it ‘Loca’ or something? I am pretty crazy.”

“Nah,” James said. “Lola’s what you’re getting.”

“Fine. Again, not on missions. There it’s ‘Commander’ or ‘Shepard’, got it? Maybe you can get away with ‘Shep’.”

“So about this next mission,” James said, leaning against the wall next to Shepard who was still trying to contort herself into some kind of position. “The Turians want us to rescue some politician, huh? Maybe we can kick some Reaper ass while we find this Primarch.”

“Yeah. Hopefully. I’ve got a lot of issues that are best worked out from behind the barrel of a gun.” Shepard gave up on whatever she was trying and eyed James. “Hey, how much can you lift?”

“Enough.”

“Cool. Stand there.” She grabbed his shoulders and moved him around. “And keep your hand about this high. My heel’s going right here.” She tapped his palm before swinging her leg up and around. James didn’t have a lot of time to think or react before her ankle was in his hand. Shepard bent the other knee and turned herself around, straining against muscle and tendons. She was very close to him, closer than she had any right being if she wasn’t flirting with him. James’s eyes followed the line of her leg down to her ass.

Shepard was hot. She had a body like a prize fighter and moved it like a gymnast. Or a stripper. Or a gymnast stripper. The worst part of it was that James didn’t think she did it on purpose. The civvie girls who’d made eyes at him on military bases were trying hard to be sexy. Shepard, however, had that effortless appeal of a woman in uniform. An older woman in uniform. With age came rank, sure, but also experience. James reasoned that Shepard would have a lot of experience.

Dammit. This really is going to be harder than I thought.

Whatever she was trying didn’t have the desired effect. “Dammit. I can’t get this fucking joint to pop.”

“Common problem?” James asked, letting her leg fall back to the floor.

“Let me tell you, Vega, once you hit thirty it all goes downhill.” She let out a harsh laugh. “So what’s this I heard about you blowing out my Hammerhead’s speakers? Even I never managed that.”

“Don’t knock the easy listening,” James said. “Turn of the millennium had good shit.”

She smiled again, wider this time. “I’m not. Although I think we have different ideas of what constitutes ‘easy listening’.” Shepard opened her omni-tool and cast something to James’s earpiece. It was loud, layered, and full of screaming.

“Damn, Lola. You’re hardcore.”

Shepard slapped her abs. A red handprint formed on the pale, freckled skin. “Yep.”

“So…” James tried to change the subject so he didn’t have to think about what else Shepard might be capable of with her core strength or how her ass would look with one of his handprints on it. “Is Liara going to keep running missions with us?”

Shepard nodded. “She may not look it, but she can in fact tear a man in two with her mind and make black holes appear out of thin air.”

“Guess I’ll just have to work hard to keep from getting distracted.” He glanced to the side and realized he could partially see down Shepard’s sports bra. “...Even more distracted,” he corrected himself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shepard put her hands back on her hips again.

“All I’m saying is that you fill out a uniform well, Commander.”

Dammit.

“Charming, Mr. Vega,” Shepard said. She inspected the nails of one hand. “Are you going to keep being a moron, or can I return to the combat deck to get us on the road?”

After Shepard left, James Vega had many questions.

“Hey, Esteban,” James said, sidling up to the shuttle pilot. “What do you think her deal is?”

“What do you mean, deal?” Cortez turned a screwdriver over in his hand, trying to tighten one of the Kodiak’s bolts.

“Come on, hombre, you’re my living gaydar. What’s her deal?” James gave Cortez a hearty slap on the back.

“I can say with certainty that she likes men, but you might be barking up the wrong tree, James.”

“What do you mean? Ladies love me!”

Esteban doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Cortez shrugged. “I mean that she reads like a woman who’s in a relationship.”

“C’mon, man. Dozens of Mr. Rights have fallen to Mr. Right Now.” James waggled his eyebrows.

“That’s… that’s not what that even means. Dammit, James.” Cortez flipped the screwdriver over and pressed the butt against his forehead. “Sometimes I worry about you.”

Chapter Text

Have a look in the mirror, a fallen hero.

You came into my life when it was down on zero.

Observer

Shepard entered the combat deck where Liara and Specialist Traynor were going over some new data from Admiral Hackett. There were a number of Cerberus targets the Alliance had identified. Whatever the Illusive Man was planning, they needed to deal with it alongside collecting items for the Prothean weapon and getting every species in the galaxy to play nice with one another.

The Commander looked tired. Her face was flushed, her eyes burned with dull, feverish stars. She had a few small bruises forming on her arms. Her jacket was tied around her waist, leaving her scars, tattoos, and rock hard abs–that in Liara’s mind, were only rivaled by those of Ashley Williams–visible to all.

Poor Specialist Traynor couldn’t help but stare.

“Commander?” Liara raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side. Her eyes flicked down to Shepard’s torso and back up again.

“I got used to life out of uniform. Sue me.”

“I was more worried about those.” Liara reached out and touched one of the small bruises.

“Vega was being an ass.” Shepard crossed her arms over her chest.

“So you hit him?” Samantha asked.

The Commander shrugged. “He asked me to.”

“Just be careful, Commander,” Liara said. “Mr. Vega has quickly developed a bit of a reputation on the ship.”

“Yeah, yeah, Cortez already warned me. Don’t worry. I shot him down. Repeatedly.” Shepard sighed and looked at the floor. “Maybe when we get the Primarch I can ask him about Garrus. Fedorian and his dad are supposed to be pretty good friends.”

“I think that’s a good course of action,” Liara said. “So, I saw that they put a card table in the observation lounge…”

“Oh hell no,” Shepard said. “You are not swindling this crew with your delicate feminine wiles.” Shepard noticed Samantha looking very confused and offered an explanation. “Liara’s wicked good at poker. Don’t let the innocent sheltered archeologist act fool you.”

“Is it swindling if I never kept the money?” Liara asked. During the fight against Saren, she would absolutely destroy anyone who dared sit at the table, but the only thing she took from them was their pride.

“It’s not like you ever needed it. Aren’t you still the primary shareholder of Binary Helix?” Shepard chuckled.

“I have retained my holdings to help fund some side projects,” Liara said. She still felt a little sad when she thought about just how she’d come into such a vast fortune. Her mother had been one of the first to reveal the true horror of indoctrination to Liara. If someone as powerful as an Asari Matriarch couldn’t resist the Reapers, then what hope did the other species have?

What hope did any of them have?

Shepard. We still have Shepard.

Shepard had faced down multiple Reapers and come out… not quite fine, but certainly better than most.

“Good. We might need some of that private sector cash before the war’s over. I’m not above bribery.”

Liara nodded. “I’ve already diverted what I can.”

“Liara,” Shepard said, “I’m going to be in my cabin. With Ash laid up in the hospital, I guess the title of XO falls to you. Make sure we’re ready to go.”

“Of course, Shepard,” Liara said. After the Commander left the combat deck, Liara turned a melancholy eye to Samantha Traynor. “Samantha, I don’t suppose you’ve ever been in love before?”

“Haven’t had a lot of time for those sorts of things with the retrofits,” Samantha said. Her typically perky demeanor soured just a bit.

“The Asari have a word for what Shepard is experiencing right now, but I suppose the best translation for it would be ‘lovesick’.”

“Commander Shepard? Lovesick?” Samantha looked taken aback. “She’s not some doe-eyed teenager mooning over her first love. She’s Commander Shepard.”

“She’s a woman, same as you and, if we want to get technical, me. She’s lost many good friends in her life. I’m sure even you’ve noticed that she seems…” Liara searched for a word. “Sad.”

“I was going to say aloof, mysterious, and mature.”

Goddess, was I like this when I first met Shepard?

“That’s not quite what it is.” Liara looked at the galaxy map. Executive Officer. Was that a title she could take on? As far as crew members went, Liara knew Shepard the best out of everyone on the ship. The Commander trusted her. She could at least borrow the rank for a while, until Ashley got out of the hospital or someone else more suited to military life got their ass back on the Normandy.

Chapter Text

For you I'd smash the stars

And lay them at your feet

Paragon

Hundreds of Turian warships held position around Menae, their angular silhouettes making it obvious what parts of the Normandy’s pedigree came from alien ship design. Behind the purple-gray moon, Shepard could see the Turian homeworld burning. Cities were marked by fireballs. Three fighter squadrons escorted a massive dreadnought towards the planet, chasing Reapers that rained down from the stars to eradicate everything they could and turn the ashes into soldiers. Two of the Reapers turned around to face the dreadnought, firing those red lasers that split the Turian ship in two. It was on the far side of this battle that the Normandy dropped out of FTL. They received no notifications, no hailing frequencies. The ship might as well have been a ghost.

Liara and Shepard stared at a screen on the shuttle that showed the destruction. Shepard kept her bottom lip clamped between her teeth trying to lock onto something, anything, other than the one shit million nightmare scenarios playing themselves out behind her eyes. Her music wasn’t helping.

“Oh no…” Liara said. “No…Palaven.”

When James looked at her funny, Shepard offered the explanation. “We’ve… got an old friend there.”

More than a friend. Quite literally the only person I’ve ever truly loved.

If he loved you half as much, he wouldn’t have left.

“Holy hell,” James said. “They’re getting decimated.”

Shepard nodded solemnly. “Strongest military in the whole damn galaxy. And the Reapers are wiping the fucking floor with them.”

If there was this much destruction, she couldn’t hope that Garrus was alive. She couldn’t hope that he’d gotten offworld. He wouldn’t have. Regardless of what his father thought, Garrus Vakarian was a damned good soldier. If there was a fight, he’d be there. His commitment to his species was far higher up on the list of priorities than waiting out the end of everything with some Human he hadn’t cared enough about to give a proper goodbye. Shepard rubbed at the back of her neck, trying to banish the memories of their last morning together.

Garrus had once said that a galaxy without her in it wasn’t worth saving. Shepard had a hard time believing it then, and she definitely struggled to believe it now.

Liara put a hand on Shepard’s knee. “Was it this bad on Earth?”

Shepard bowed her head. “Yeah… yeah it was.” She hesitated to say that it was worse on Earth. She wasn’t on the ground yet.

“Commander,” Cortez called from the shuttle cockpit, “LZ’s getting swarmed.”

“James,” Shepard ordered, “open the hatch.”

“Dios mio…” James breathed as the shuttle door slid open to reveal a bloodbath.

“Vega, what’s the worst part of a zombie vid?” Shepard asked.

The muscular marine shrugged. “Never spent a lot of time watching horror.”

Shepard stared down at the surface of Menae as she and her squad tried to clear a landing zone for their shuttle. Deep purple-gray rock was splattered with blue blood and overrun with husks the likes of which Commander Jane Shepard had only seen in her worst nightmares. Tall, lanky, long claws, the sexes of the weaponized corpses could be determined by mandible shape and presence or absence of a crest. They were Turians with cold, white faces and dead blue eyes. She felt her soul, if she had one, shrivel and wither the longer she looked.

Liara answered for Shepard. “It’s when the survivors run into someone they know.”

Shepard held her Mattock up to her cheek, peered through the scope, and squeezed the trigger. One of the husks’ skulls exploded in a fountain of black ichor. Shepard stuffed the first thought in her mind back into a box. She didn’t have the time to wonder.

“We get in, get out. Let’s move.”

Archangel

“I’m reading an Alliance shuttle entering the atmosphere,” the radar operator said. Garrus and the rest of General Victus’s men were dug in to a narrow, craggy valley that was doing well to slow the Reapers’ advancements. All around them outside the barricades the purple-gray rocky surface of Menae was quickly becoming stained with blue. The Reapers had come prepared. Young and old soldiers alike were shitting themselves at the sight of husked Turians running them down. Unlike the Human ones Garrus had fought in the past, these had claws. More advanced troops that appeared similar to the Collectors but made out of Turian instead of Prothean also attacked in force. These had been dubbed Marauders, something out of an old legend. Giant amalgams of pieces and parts with hands made of knives were classified as Brutes. Garrus knew it didn’t matter what names these abominations were given. They still slaughtered everything in their path.

“Alliance?” Victus seemed to perk up.

The operator nodded. “Looks like they’re strafing the upper levels of the valley, trying to clear a landing zone. Based on the trajectory, we should have visual contact here in a moment.”

“Thought Earth was under siege too, the Alliance shouldn’t be here.” Garrus held the scope of his M98 to his eye and looked to the sky. What he saw dropped his world into slow motion.

He had to be hallucinating. He saw an open shuttle with two Humans, a man and a woman, and an Asari hanging out of it firing on the husks that were drawn towards them by the noise. Garrus barely registered any details outside of the Human woman in the shuttle. She wore no helmet and all black armor with the red and white stripes of the Alliance N7 program painted down one arm. Her hair the color of copper and carnelians was longer now, but still tied low at the base of her neck. She had a Carnifex Hand-Cannon strapped to one thigh and an M92 Mantis slung across her back. In her hands was a Mattock, a nearly perfect twin to the one hanging off of Garrus’s belt. A small box in the ammo pouch next to his own gun started to almost physically burn a hole in his pocket. The radio frequency he’d never had the heart to disconnect from briefly blared Human music in one of his ears before leaving him in painful silence as the shuttle flew out of range.

He didn’t want to say her name out loud for fear of breaking the spell and Jane disappearing on him again.

“Look alive, Mr. Vakarian, you’ll catch a bullet in that trap of yours.” General Victus slapped him on the back and Garrus shut his mouth, pulling his mandibles in close to his jaw. At least one general hadn’t started calling him “Sir”. It was strangely comforting to be disrespected. The general peered at him. “You alright, boy? You look like you saw the spirits.”

Garrus shook his head. “Nothing half so fantastical, sir.” Just the goddess of victory and vengeance herself.

Regardless of whatever the fuck else he’d been sent to this moon for, Garrus Vakarian now had a new mission: find Jane in this hellscape of a battlefield and never ever leave her side again. After that… well he’d see where things went.

“Don’t let that girl of yours see you going slack-jawed over a Human,” one of the scouts joked. A rifleman quickly whispered something in the younger soldier’s ear that made him shut the fuck up.

Paragon

Husks loped towards the landing zone. Shepard bit back bile. She kept her shots clean and precise. She didn’t know if husks could still feel pain, or if they had any awareness of who they used to be. Just to stay on the safe side, she made their deaths clean and quick.

A soldier with pale gray scales shot down on the husks from the upper right. Shepard called out to him, asking which way his commanding officer was. He pointed them straight ahead. Behind the soldier, a massive Reaper stomped across the ground.

“That thing’s enormous,” Liara breathed.

James shrugged. “We saw bigger on Earth.”

Shepard nodded in agreement. “A whole lot of them.” This was a baby bitch Reaper in comparison to the one that tore through Alliance HQ.

The Turian forward camp was behind a barricade laid in the floor of the entrance to a basin. Once inside, Shepard was shocked by just how sparsely populated it was. All around her, she heard radio operators trying to reach other bases on the moon or call in reinforcements.

The General in charge of this camp barked orders to his subordinates. Their main focus was a northern barricade that seemed to be a weak spot through which husks and other things were pouring through. Another underling was sent to a comm tower that had gone down.

“General,” Shepard said, stepping up to the table in front of the alien man.

“Commander Shepard,” he said in awe. “Heard you were coming, didn’t believe it.” He introduced himself as General Corinthus.

“We’ve come to get Primarch Fedorian,” Shepard said. Corinthus froze and looked up. Fierce green eyes peered out from dark, hooded sockets.

“He’s dead.”

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up at the black sky. “What the fuck happened?”

“His shuttle was shot down an hour ago trying to leave Menae.”

“God dammit! ” Shepard shouted.

“My sentiments exactly. We just lost four hundred men in half an hour. With all the destruction, the line of succession is in shambles. In short, Commander, we’re fucked. Without the Primarch…”

“I heard he was a good man,” Shepard said, trying to be somewhat sensitive to the situation. Her mind was distracted by other things, however.

Four hundred in half an hour? This isn’t war, it’s a meat processing plant.

Still think Garrus is alive in all this mess?

Doesn’t matter if he is. We’re not here for him.

“And a friend,” Corinthus said. “He’d have made an outstanding diplomat.”

“So what happens now?” Shepard asked.

Corinthus needed to contact Palaven Command to see who else had died, who was still alive, and who among the Hierarchy’s leadership had stumbled into being the next Primarch. It was a straightforward thing to do on a normal day, but today was the day the comm tower was out. Of course it was. Nothing could ever be easy for Commander Goddamn Shepard.

“I’m on it. We’ll get that tower operational,” Shepard said.

“Not a big fan of being volunteered,” James muttered.

“Volun-told is the appropriate term,” Liara said. Shepard had volun-told Liara into several situations three years ago.

Get in, get out. Get in, get out.

Her feet padded out the words along with her heart as she ran across the purple-gray rocky surface. Husks flowed around the corner like a tide. Loud pulses from the Reapers set Shepard’s limbic system ablaze, pushing her deeper into fight or flight. She wanted to run away, to hide. But she couldn’t do that. She was Commander Goddamn Shepard, born into hell and combat and that was how she would die. But not today. Today she had to fix a fucking comm tower and clear it of husks and find the next Primarch.

They couldn’t fix the tower from down here. Someone needed to climb to the top.

Archangel

“Vakarian, heavily armored unit on the right flank. Get that thing the hell off my men!” General Victus shouted.

Garrus slid over the dusty, gravelly ground to a halt and turned, lining up a shot on whatever the hell he was looking at. It was one of those Brute things, a hulking amalgamation of body parts with a Turian head strapped onto a long, thin neck and swords for fingers. His first shot blasted into the creature’s chest, but it just kept coming. The limp bodies of two of Victus’s soldiers were flung to the side, off of the Brute’s sword-claws. Garrus fired the Widow as fast as he was able, sending anti-material rounds screaming through the air until he’d finally shot the damn thing full of enough holes for it to fall over.

When he turned around, Victus and the others were gone. What the fuck was one soldier supposed to do against the Reapers!? Had they left him behind as bait or a sacrifice to cover their retreat? Garrus clambered up onto a boulder to try and get a visual on where the General’s squad went. Instead, when he scanned across the battlefield with his scope he found something that he’d desperately been missing from his gun’s sights.

His Commander was just as ferocious and beautiful as the day he’d left her, but something was a little off about her movements. She’d probably gone and gotten herself injured again, and like an idiot pushed through it rather than rest and heal like a sane person. Her cheeks were that adorable shade of pink but the color was blotchy instead of uniform. Her eyes still burned, but their light was the last gasp of a dying star instead of the brilliant sparkling chaos of the galaxy itself. Her scars cut a deep chasm across her cheek. Her brow seemed to be stuck in a permanent furrow. Garrus was overcome with the desire to tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her on the forehead.

Jane… Sweetheart, what have you done to yourself?

He heard a shrieking moan from below him. Husks had sighted a lone Turian sitting on top of a giant rock and likely thought him easy prey. He couldn’t just sprint across the battlefield and pull Jane into his arms right there in the middle of a firefight. At least for now, she was still just out of reach.

Garrus was just barely too far away to pick up her playlist frequency without a shit ton of static, but he didn’t need to clearly hear the music playing in her head to join the dance.

Paragon

“Liara, get your blue ass up that tower. Vega, down here with me.” Shepard checked her gun. “Nothing breaks that line.” She held the Mattock up to her cheek and shot a perimeter into the silver-purple dust of Menae’s surface. The metallic deposits in the moon’s surface mirrored the sparkling flecks in the carapaces of the soldiers who defended it.

“Aye aye,” James said. Shepard caught the horny marine sneaking a peek at Liara’s ass while she ascended the tower.

“You know she and Ash are a thing, right?” Shepard asked.

He shrugged. “Just because I look doesn’t mean I have to touch, Lola.”

“Vega, what did I say about nicknames?” Shepard rolled her eyes.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t call you Lola.”

A group of husks closed in on Shepard’s perimeter. She put each of them down with a flaming bullet to the skull before James could even react. “I said not on missions.”

Shepard tried to keep her eyes moving, not lingering on any of the Reaper forces after she shot an incendiary round into their skulls. If she looked too long, she might see one that had a scarred up right mandible and a dent in what was left of their crest. The more people died on the planet around which this moon orbited, the more husks and other things the Reapers could create.

Shepard pushed forward, halving the distance between the radio tower and her perimeter line. She kept the Mattock to her cheek, looking down the scope and firing as fast as she could squeeze the trigger. She got turned around following the oncoming group of husks and became aware of something in her blind spot almost too late.

She turned in time to see a head explode and the body fall to the ground. Shepard didn’t have time to admire the handiwork of whoever killed the thing. More were coming. She backed up, shooting as she did so. Something rushed her down from the left in her peripheral vision. Before she could react, a bullet screamed by a hair’s breadth from her throat and annihilated one of the dead Turians that got a Collector-style upgrade.

Her breath wanted to hitch in her chest. Her heart wanted to pound hard and slow. Her collarbones wanted to start tingling with anticipation. Shepard was able to get her body back under control before the fluttery feeling between her hips came back. Someone’s lucky shot that almost killed her shouldn’t make her feel that way. There was no way Garrus was here. He couldn’t be. She glanced towards the black sky and saw Palaven burning. Fires the size of megalopolises could be seen from space. That was where Garrus was. Assuming he wasn’t dead already.

Why the hell do you care, anyway? He left you.

Shepard took a moment to jam her music volume up louder before throwing herself back into the fight. She had to buy Liara more time to fix the fucking radio tower.

Candidate

After the first husk went down in the Commander’s blind spot, James was a little confused. After the second, he was intrigued. The third through the fifth convinced him that someone or something was watching out for her specifically. Some kind of battlefield guardian angel, maybe.

The next time it happened, James looked back along the shot line to see the silhouette of a Turian with a sniper rifle perched on an outcropping of rock. When they weren’t trying to keep Reaper forces off of their feet, the Turian’s scope was turned towards the radio tower and Commander Shepard. Regardless of how it might look, the alien wasn’t aiming at Shepard.

Whenever a shot flew past her, Shepard seemed to fight a little more fiercely. At some point, she let the Mattock hang off her belt and battled using her pistol and an omni-blade. James did what he could to back her up with an AR and a shotgun, but she kept advancing further and further towards the enemy lines. James watched in awe as Shepard kicked herself off of a cliff face and slapped blades onto her boots in a single fluid motion before tearing off across the ground to thin out a throng of husks running them down.

“What the fuck are you doing!?” A Turian soldier who’d been pinned down called out from her position on the southwest corner of the small open area where the comm tower stood. The girls didn’t have crests, and their mandibles had this extra curve off the back extending to frame the sides of their skulls.

Shepard didn’t reply to the worried soldier. She flipped and twisted, striking out with her feet in midair to slice up the mindless husks that tried to overwhelm her. Regardless of how impossible the shots would be, their sniper ally kept pace with her. James kept looking back at Shepard with barely contained awe as she all but flung herself into the path of oncoming bullets with the confidence of someone who knew they were untouchable.

Her eyes looked brighter and a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was the most genuinely happy expression James had seen on her face so far. Shepard’s scars almost vanished and James realized that she was far more than pretty when she smiled.

How do I get her to look at me like that?

Chapter Text

Young love must live twice only for us

Paragon

That makes seven.

She’d turned around to find another husk dead with an exploded cranium after a bullet streaked past her cheek. There was no way. No fucking way. Shepard was just making shit up in her head. She was hoping beyond hope that Garrus was here somewhere, and her brain was filling in the gaps.

Why do you care? He left you, remember?

I don’t care that he left.

She needed a test. A way to prove to herself that it wasn’t Garrus fucking her from behind his scope again. That way she could finally put all this to bed and focus on her mission. Get in, get the Primarch, get out. If the new Primarch wasn’t on this moon, she’d go to the surface of Palaven and run through the streets of another burning city where her dead alien ex-boyfriend absolutely wasn’t.

Her thoughts seized upon her skates. If anyone could keep up with her on those, it’d only be Garrus. Shepard darted to a small cliff face and flipped herself off of it, forging and slapping skates on her boots before she hit the earth. She took off along the ground armed with her Carnifex. The lazy wind that had been whispering through her hair became a whistling gale as Shepard turned herself into the bullet cutting through the air towards a mass of husks. Her timing would have to be flawless to pull off the crazy bullshit she was thinking of at that moment. Something flashy, dramatic, and maybe just a little bit flirtatious. The song in her ear was building to a crescendo, and even if she didn’t get the information she wanted, she was going to feel cool as fuck in the attempt. Shepard threw herself off the ground, slamming her omni-blade into the head of a husk and feeling a shot kiss along her jaw on the way down right as the base dropped.

Flint and steel flecked with silver moonlight arced lightning right into her soul, reigniting a raging wildfire that she hadn’t realized went out. The stars above shone brighter. She felt… alive . Her body burned, her skin sang, her heart soared. Every nerve ending flooded her mind with the memories that she’d thought faded: echoes of teeth, claws, tender kisses on scarred skin, and hard ridges raking in and out at just the right angle.

Part of Shepard’s mind wanted to hate herself for feeling this way about a man who broke her heart, left her, and hadn’t even tried to contact her at all. She tried to tell herself that she didn’t love him anymore. She shouldn’t. She wouldn’t. She could decide to excise the emotions like a tumor.

Turn it off. It was just a sex thing. It’s over now.

You know that’s a fucking lie.

Shepard didn’t have time to figure this shit out right now. She had husks on her heels and a comm tower to defend. Shepard pushed her skates into the hard, rocky moon’s surface and sped off in a wide arc. She started mouthing along to the lyrics in her ear and started to maybe believe some of them again. As long as Garrus was somewhere on this battlefield fucking her from behind the barrel of a gun, she was invincible, unkillable, immortal, fearless . He’d make sure nothing got close enough to touch her.

He absolutely still loves me. He never stopped.

Don’t believe that.

The loud ka-pow of a borderline illegally modified M98 Widow accompanied by another bullet caressing her cheek with the hesitant enthusiasm of a long-lost lover silenced every thought in her mind but one.

Give me back my goddamned alien boyfriend.

Observer

From on top of the comm tower, Liara had a good view of the battle raging below. Shepard and James were doing well to keep the husks from getting too close and climbing up after Liara. Gunfire reverberated around her as bullets flashed by like shooting stars. Several seemed to find a target around the Commander. Liara hadn’t seen much of Garrus and Shepard flirting in the old days, she hadn’t gone on too many away missions. What she had seen, however, looked almost exactly like whatever was going on down there.

Liara looked back over her shoulder and down to see the man himself sitting on a rock cracking off trick shots.

“Shepard, I’m almost done up here,” Liara said. She reconnected a few more wires to reroute power to the main transmitter. “Check out my 6:45.”

“Just fix the tower, Liara.” The Commander’s voice sounded almost like her throat was sore. Liara watched Shepard spiral out in a wide arc on the plasma skates, baiting groups of husks after her and drawing them towards friendly fire. Liara was thankful they were in a relatively open area. If Shepard had tried something like that in a space where she had less mobility, her alien boyfriend might have already died of multiple heart attacks.

Myocardial infarctions aside, Liara wondered why Garrus wasn’t more actively trying to signal them. This comm tower was only supposed to be boosting communications between the camp on Menae and Palaven Command, right? Surely it wasn’t the sole broadcast tower for every radio signal in this area. That would indicate an amount of hubris on the part of the Turians that Liara T’Soni thought deadly.

She wasn’t a commando. She wasn’t really even a fighter. Liara had only a handful of tricks up her sleeve for combat. She was better suited for cataloging data, organizing resources, doing research, and finding patterns. Sometimes she wondered just what the hell she’d been thinking when Commander Shepard, Tali, and Garrus had shown up on Therum on what was ostensibly a rescue mission and agreed to go with them and fight a war against an enemy none of them knew a damned thing about.

I was intrigued, and maybe a little starstruck.

Thank the goddess that was all it was. Liara didn’t think she would have ever been able to make Shepard happy as a partner. Shepard needed someone who could stay with her all the time, fight by her side, and that wasn’t a job for the Shadow Broker.

Liara saw Shepard make a break back towards the tower on her plasma skates. She’d seen something. Liara’s eyes skipped ahead along Shepard’s path and saw something truly horrifying. It was a huge abomination of a creature with massive claws, a hunched back, and a small head perched on a thin neck. Flaps of scale-covered skin hung from its body that Liara could only describe as being constructed of viscera.

Liara was reasonably certain that most of the aerial cartwheels and flips Shepard was pulling off weren’t competition legal, along with some of the moves the Commander used to turn the knives strapped to her feet into weapons. She’d stumbled across Shepard’s old competition vids, and the Asari had a sport similar to figure-skating but more biotics were involved. Shepard launched herself up onto a small plateau, maybe two or three feet higher than the ground around the tower. She lost her footing briefly and started tumbling head over ass from the momentum. Husks that had taken notice of her were put down one after another by a protective Turian with a high-powered sniper rifle.

Paragon

Shepard staggered to her feet. Her skates had been dispelled in her involuntary gymnastics display. She kept running up the shallow incline, hopping onto a small boulder and jumping off to put the plasma blades back into place so she could hit the ground and shoot off like a rocket. Her goal was the top of this incline. That giant thing with the knife hands and tiny head was following a shallow ravine and she was going to chop its tiny head off its skinny serpentine neck.

It also helped that Garrus was on the other side of that shallow ravine. She wouldn’t have to worry about sticking the landing.

Shepard built up momentum before kicking herself up into the air, legs flying up as she cartwheeled overtop of her target. She had to grab onto the rib-cage structure up around its shoulders and briefly lower herself down towards the thick cables stretching up its back. She slashed her omni-blade across where she assumed its spinal column to be and started firing with her Mattock after pushing herself up and off towards the other side of the ravine. She twisted in the air to see where the hell she was landing and realized she’d grievously miscalculated.

“Shit!” Shepard cursed loudly. Her arms and legs flailed on instinct, trying to push her further.

A hand closed around her wrist, yanking her down against convex armor. She felt arms wrap around her waist and hips. Her arms had automatically thrown themselves around his neck. She looked into eyes that were the warm gray of a summer thunderstorm framed by rough scales and plates the color of asteroid dust that twinkled with starlight that was there only if you knew where to look.

“Jane, you crazy bitch, what the hell were you thinking?”

“Did I kill it?”

“That’s hardly important right now. What the fuck are you–”

Shepard cut Garrus off with a kiss, closing her eyes as she did so. After a moment of shock, he kissed back. His sharkskin mouth was eager against her lips. Garrus’s hand on her waist slid up her back and into her hair as his long, pointed tongue darted into her mouth. She welcomed the feeling of it twisting around hers. Her heart thudded like a bass line. She was finally home.

They still had to breathe, though. And they were in the middle of a firefight.

“For the record,” Shepard said, “ that is the appropriate protocol for reunions.” Her hand slid down to his right mandible where the chipped and cracked boney plating was starting to build itself back up. She dragged her fingers along the bottom edge, pressing her nails into the scar through her gloves.

Growing them out had been a good choice. “Th-the scars are starting to fade,” Garrus stammered. “I know they drove you crazy. I could try and get a couple more before we get off this moon?”

Archangel

What the hell are you even doing?

Garrus knew the answer to the question. His Commander was being her gorgeous, fantastic, improbable self, and it was still her life’s mission to try and kill him. Jane had gone and brought a knife to a gunfight again, only this time she’d fastened two more to her feet and was somehow able to use those to move around. At least they were plasma knives instead of just a little blade no bigger than her thumb. Garrus had to work hard to keep up with her, trying to anticipate what direction she’d go and how she’d move. His scope couldn’t stay in one place for very long.

She looked amazing, though. More than amazing. He’d never seen another organic being move like Jane did, and she could absolutely translate that talent from the battlefield to the bedroom. Despite being in the middle of a fight his people were rapidly losing, Garrus couldn’t focus on anything aside from Jane. He had to let her know, had to find some way to signal her that he was here, right behind her where he belonged. But the one trick he knew that should work seemed to get ignored. And now she was out here flying across the ground not with wings, but damn knives on her feet.

It was like Jane was trying to run away from him, trying to make him miss or get herself shot.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Garrus urged her. “You know it’s me.”

Jane launched herself into the air like a thrown blade, plunging her plasma knife into the husk below her. That was Garrus’s chance. He took aim, let the world outside his scope fall away, and fired. At this instant in time there wasn’t a war raging around them. There wasn’t a battlefield crawling with husks and other gizzard-churning creatures between Garrus and his Commander. He could see the moment she realized exactly what was going on. Two glittering lines appeared along her bottom lashes and the galaxy in her eyes sparkled with the destructive beauty of a sky filled with supernovas.

Garrus shot again and again, following where Jane led him and tracking her across the purple-gray rock by her flame-colored hair when he was forced to find her after looking away to save his own hide. Even though it hurt to tear his eyes from her, he couldn’t very well make it up to her for leaving if he got himself killed first.

Jane grew more wild and reckless, relying on Garrus to keep her blind spot clear while he did to this maddening, enthralling woman from behind a gun the things he longed to do to her in a bed. On a couch. Against a wall. Over the edge of a table. There were many options. Which one Jane wanted first was entirely up to her. Garrus hoped she’d let him start off with his tongue so he could hear her scream his name and get those damn legs back around his neck.

Did she just…? She did. She cut a husk’s throat with one of those blades. Spirits, this fucking woman…

His mouth started to water at the thought of sinking his teeth into the strong, supple flesh of her thighs and he swallowed hard. That was for later. For now, he had to make sure the pair of them stayed alive. Garrus put the scope to his eye again and found Jane streaking across the ground towards his position. The closer she got, the more clearly he could hear the music she had playing. It was the same loud, harsh, surprisingly emotional tracks he remembered. She jumped up onto a ledge by tucking her knees to her chest and absolutely fucking up her landing by trying to be cute about it. Jane rolled across the ground. Her lips moved in a string of curses as she pulled herself back to her feet.

Garrus shot husks that tried to pen his Commander in. Nothing on this damned moon was going to lay even so much as a finger on Jane’s body, except for him of course. Garrus would cover her pale skin in red scratches and deep purple bites the second he got the chance. She looked so good wearing nothing but mating scars.

Jane kept running, using a rock to give herself some elevation so she could hit the ground with those plasma blades back on her boots. He followed her eyes to one of the hulking Brutes lumbering its way through the shallow ravine separating Garrus’s outcropping of rock from the ledge Jane was racing up. She reached the end of the terrain and slung herself across, ripping through the brute’s skinny neck with her plasma knife and pumping it full of bullets for good measure.

She wasn’t going to make it across the gap, and more husks had noticed the commotion. They crowded in behind the fallen brute, dead black hands scrabbling at the sky and waiting for Jane to fall. Garrus threw his gun across his back and reached out to catch her. One hand found her wrist and yanked her to safety. His arms wrapped around her as he staggered back against the boulder on top of this outcropping.

Holding Jane again made him realize that this was actually real. Garrus wasn’t hallucinating. And here she was. Somehow. After everything he’d done to her, she’d come back. The whole galaxy looked down at him from where it had been encased in a pair of emeralds. This coincidence of flesh and consciousness made up of nebulae of freckles stardusted across skin that he knew made the finest Thessian satin rough by comparison, this was his fire-crowned Commander, his gorgeous goddess, his crazy bitch queen of hell. He longed to crush her against him, kiss her and drink her in and feel her burn down his throat like chugging ryncol straight from the bottle. To kneel at her altar and eagerly perform his penance for the mortal sin of leaving her. Let her sacred flame purge his soul as their bodies that were never meant to twist into one defied evolution to…

Damn, cool your fucking thrusters, dumbass. Laying it on a little thick, huh?

Alien girlfriend alien girlfriend alien girlfriend.

Shit… Battle? War? Turians are losing?

Alien. Girlfriend.

Alien girlfriend almost got herself killed. Again.

Shit…

It took him half a second, but Garrus did manage to pull his damn brain together.

“Jane, you crazy bitch, what the hell were you thinking?”

“Did I kill it?”

That’s what she’s worried about? Not that she almost got herself killed? Again? I swear to whatever god you fucking pray to, woman, when I get you alone…

“That’s hardly important right now,” Garrus said. “What the fuck are you–”

Lips like soft velvet crushed themselves against his mouth. Jane sighed contentedly when he recovered enough mental faculties to kiss back, pushing her lips apart with his tongue and sliding it into her mouth. Garrus let one hand find its way into her silky hair as the kiss deepened. Unfortunately they needed this pesky thing called oxygen for their continued existences.

“For the record,” she said, “ that is the appropriate protocol for reunions.” Jane’s fingers trailed down the bottom of his right mandible as she gave him the smoldering, sexy, seductive bedroom eyes that she knew Garrus would do anything for.

Garrus choked back a twitter of arousal. “Th-the scars are starting to fade. I know they drove you crazy. I could try and get a couple more before we get off this moon?”

“Considering what it took for you to get these,” Jane said, kissing his right cheek. “I don’t think I want a repeat.” She looked up at the top of the comm tower where Garrus could see Liara working to get the damn thing up and running. “Liara said she’s almost done up there. Come on, I left Lieutenant Vega by himself to get that thing,” she pointed down at the brute on the floor of the ravine, “dead. Wait… did I kill it?”

“Yes, Jane,” Garrus said. He pulled her mouth back to his for another kiss. “You killed it.”

The small army of husks was trying to claw their way up the rock below Jane and Garrus. They clambered over each other, pulling what were ostensibly their allies back down into the throng.

“That’s a problem.” Jane pulled her Mattock off her belt and didn’t even wait for Garrus to put her down before emptying a clip into the husks, exploding a skull into a fountain of black goo with every shot.

“Have I told you that I love you?” Garrus breathed the words.

“Not in the last six months,” Jane replied curtly after going back and forth with herself in her head. He could tell when she was having an argument with herself by the way her brilliant green eyes darted back and forth.

“To be fair, the last thing I knew was that you were in jail and not even Tali could get in touch with you.”

Paragon

“Have I told you that I love you?” Garrus’s arms around her tightened. Shepard wanted to let herself melt against him. Fuck the mission, fuck the Primarch, fuck the Turians. She had hers. They could speed off into the stars and have a wonderful life together on some backwater planet that the Reapers wouldn’t even look at. Nothing to worry about except for days of hot, slow sex on a beach under a golden sunset or maybe somewhere she could hear the wind and feel the thunder.

What the fuck was she thinking? She couldn’t turn tail and run. She had a responsibility. It was just the Reapers fucking with her head again. Nobody fucked with her head. Nobody fucked with her . With the exception of the rough, spiky, objectively threatening alien man currently holding her in his arms and who Shepard could turn into putty with the words “on your knees”.

She realized she hadn’t responded to Garrus’s question. “Not in the last six months,” she said. Shepard hadn’t meant the words to come out as harshly as they did. Maybe she was still a little bitter about the whole thing. She didn’t want to be, though.

What if he just leaves again?

“To be fair,” Garrus said, “the last thing I knew was that you were in jail and not even Tali could get in touch with you.” He backed up and took a long jump across the gap, landing on the far side. He set Shepard down on the hard, rocky surface and cast a skeptical glance at her feet and her plasma skates. “How do you balance on those?”

Shepard smirked. “Very easily. And now I can keep up with you.” She looked down the hill. “Race you to the comm tower?”

“If I win?”

“You get to keep hitting this from the back.” Shepard slapped her ass.

“Hm…” Garrus wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled her neck. “If I lose?”

Shepard leaned back against him and took a moment to think. “Same thing.”

“So it’s just my pride on the line. Got it.” Garrus got himself ready for a sprint. There were times when Shepard remembered that Turians were big, fast predators who had razor sharp teeth and inch-long talons with a grip strong enough to bruise even her tough skin. Garrus started the countdown. “On three. One…”

“Two…” Shepard bent her knees, preparing to try and finally outrun a digitigrade alien.

“Three!” Garrus shot off like a bullet as Shepard raced along the ground just behind him. She could go faster, but she had something in mind. A little dramatic flair that would make Kasumi Goto proud. The ledge was coming up, and sure Garrus could jump down and probably keep running, but Shepard could fly.

She turned herself to the side, taking the leap into a twisting jump. Her eyes briefly met Garrus’s and she winked at him before hitting the ground hard and darting towards the tower without losing any momentum.

“Show off!” Garrus called after her.

“You like it!”

She heard him grumbling through ragged breaths as he tried to catch up with her. Shepard could slow down, let it be a tie, or maybe let him win, but why the hell would she do that? She was Jane Motherfucking Shepard, badass extraordinaire, and beating her alien boyfriend in a race in the middle of a battle in a war on an apocalyptic scale was part and parcel of being her. Shepard quickly glanced back over her shoulder and realized that now this was less of a competition and more of a chase. Maybe she wanted him to catch her…

But not before she beat him to the comm tower. The silver structure flashed in the sun. Shepard saw Liara climbing down the ladder. She dug her skates into the hard-packed dust of the open plain and pushed herself forward, reaching out to tag one of the struts. Shepard’s hand met metal right as Garrus’s fingers brushed against her other wrist. He clawed at the air again before finally grabbing ahold of her and pulling her backwards.

“You maddening, amazing, beautiful bitch…” Garrus gasped, trying to catch his breath. He held her face in his hands and pressed his forehead against hers. Shepard looked up into wild, desperate eyes that weren’t even trying to hide the fact that he was mentally undressing her. Her heart started to pound and she pushed herself up onto her toes for another kiss, but the firefight around them had other ideas.

“Commander, the tower’s operational,” Liara said.

Shepard tore herself away from Garrus. “Signal Corinthus,” she said. “We’ll clean up here.”

“Hi, Liara,” Garrus said. “Long time, no see.”

“Garrus,” Liara replied. “Only the goddess knows how relieved I am to see you. Shepard, about that XO position…”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Yes, Liara. You can just be the Shadow Broker again. Assuming the Hierarchy lets Garrus’s shiny metal ass off this moon.”

“Sweetheart, you know it’s not shiny.”

“Sparkly, then.”

“Oh sweet spirits…” Garrus massaged soft spots between the biometallic plates on his head where his crest met the rest of his skull. “Just… go kill some shit, Jane. I’ll back you up from over here.”

The adrenaline of battle coursed through her veins, amplified by sweet relief of having her favorite backup and the realization that a good amount of the frustration she’d felt growing over the last six months had been absolutely sexual in nature.

See? It is just a sex thing.

She thought that voice in her head had finally shut itself up. Shepard focused on the music in her ear and the fight in front of her. Liara captured a mass of husks in one of her singularities and Shepard skirted the edge, narrowly avoiding the area of influence so she didn’t get caught in the gravitational pull. She put a bullet in each husk’s head and used the singularity’s field to help her slingshot around to the next grouping. Shepard glanced towards the comm tower where Garrus had found a spot part of the way up and kept husks and other things off her back. She blew imaginary smoke off of the barrel of her pistol knowing full well he was looking at her and it’d drive him wild.

“Nice of you to join the fight, Lola,” James said. “Where the hell did you fuck off to?”

“Picked up an extra gun,” Shepard replied. She held out a hand towards the lieutenant. “Turn me ninety degrees, will you, Vega? Give it all you’ve got.”

The burly marine’s hand swallowed hers. James swung her around like he was throwing a hammer in the highland games. He let her go at the apex of the turn with a final whipping motion before going back to mowing shit down with an AR.

Chapter Text

It's in the air that I'm breathing now.

I feel alive with you here.

Candidate

Where the fuck is Shepard?

She’d cut back towards the comm tower, but James couldn’t see where she’d gone after that. He was too busy trying to keep husks at bay. They responded well to incendiary ammunition, and there was something satisfying about pumping hot lead into zombies taller than he was and watching them catch fire.

More Turian husks barreled around the corner, claws reaching out to tear at anything in their paths. The comm tower must be fixed because one of Liara’s biotic black holes sucked the husks in. Shepard appeared tearing across the ground on her plasma skates with her red hair whipping out behind her. She pulled the Hand-Cannon off her thigh– Why the hell did she keep a gun strapped to her thigh? Didn’t she know how fucking distracting that was?– and cracked skulls with it while shots flew around her.

“Nice of you to join the fight, Lola,” James said when she got into earshot. “Where the hell did you fuck off to?”

“Picked up an extra gun.” She still only had the three. Where had she really been? One of those Turian things with a gun fused to its arm took aim at Shepard and was put down. James looked back along the shot line to see another Turian, a living one this time, that had shimmied his ass up the comm tower and was cracking off shots around the Commander to keep enemies off her back. That was what she meant by an extra gun. “Turn me ninety degrees, will you, Vega? Give it all you’ve got.” Shepard reached towards him.

The hand that had snapped James’s head back with an uppercut felt very small in his grasp. He spun her around the long way in a wide arc, flinging her towards the next group of husks in her path. James turned back around when he heard a loud screeching and couldn’t fire his AR fast enough. Liara gave him a hand with another singularity for crowd control. He was still trying to work out a nickname for her. Would calling her Bluebell be racist? Speciesist? It was hard to tell what the right word for that was.

The husks began to thin out and Shepard signaled the squad to follow her back to the main camp. Their new Turian companion was several inches taller than James himself, not a difficult feat for the species who considered six foot even to be short. He had a gnarly looking purplish scar across the right half of his face that was trying to heal, and some artificial grafts around where his ear on that side should be. There was a dent in his crest and the scales and plates James could see were a beige color with greenish undertones. Unnerving gray eyes with pinpoint pupils that were more at home on a bird of prey than a supposed ally never once looked away from Commander Shepard.

“Introductions,” Shepard said. “James Vega, Garrus Vakarian.” She pointed back and forth between James and the alien. “Garrus helped me take down Sovereign and Saren three years ago, and the Collectors. He’s a hell of a soldier. James helped Ash and I get our asses off Earth when the Reapers hit.”

“Nice to meet you,” Garrus said. He held out a hand. “Humans do handshakes, right?”

“Yeah,” James said. He felt a little bit of hesitation at shaking hands with a Turian, even one who’d been so involved with Shepard’s adventures. Still, the alien’s grip was strong and respectable. James could play nice with a Turian if it got them to their goal and the Primarch. However, James wasn’t a fan of the way Garrus was looking at Shepard. It was almost like he wanted to serve her up on a silver platter.

A lookout at the top of the barricade that would let them back into the camp saluted Garrus as they approached. Shepard looked up at the alien for an explanation, but he just rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll explain later. I’m kind of their Reaper expert and… advising.”

“After all the shit we’ve been through, you fucking deserve some goddamn respect.” Shepard smiled brightly.

“We’re here to get the Primarch,” James said, reminding Shepard and Liara of their mission.

“Fedorian should be around here somewhere,” Garrus began.

“A-about that,” Liara said, interrupting him. “According to General Corinthus, Primarch Fedorian’s shuttle got shot down. No survivors.”

Garrus’s face fell. “Oh…” His brow plates drew together. “I knew him from the time I was a kid. He and my father went way back.”

Shepard reached out and squeezed the alien’s hand. “Everybody’s going to lose someone before the end of this.”

“I know that, but…”

“It doesn’t make it any easier, yeah,” Shepard said. “Corinthus needed us to fix the tower so he could reach Palaven Command and find out who the next Primarch would be. Any ideas?”

“Could be anyone at this point,” Garrus said, shrugging. “Even… oh sweet spirits…” His hand that wasn’t holding Shepard’s went to his forehead. “Oh, Karnus better be alive. Or someone. Anyone else.”

“You in the running or something?” James asked.

“Or something, yeah…”

Shepard grew thoughtful. She slipped her hand out of Garrus’s and started walking faster. “Come on. Let’s just see if Corinthus was able to reach someone.”

General Corinthus snapped to attention when they returned to his command center. “Sir,” he greeted Garrus. “I wasn’t informed you’d made it back.”

“At ease, General,” Garrus said. “Commander Shepard has filled me in on what’s going on. Have you been able to reach Palaven Command?”

Corinthus nodded. “Palaven Command tells me that the next Primarch is Adrien Victus.”

“Victus?” Liara perked up at the name. “His name’s crossed my desk.”

“Well I hope he’s still alive. I was fighting alongside him just a little while ago. Bastard left me to clear up the right flank while he kept pushing the line,” Garrus said.

“Sounds like Victus,” Corinthus said.

“Do you want to fill the Humans in?” Shepard asked.

“Lifelong military, gets results, popular with his troops,” Garrus counted the descriptors on his fingers. “Not so popular with military command– has a reputation for playing loose with accepted strategy.”

“Is he creative or crazy?” Shepard raised an eyebrow.

Garrus chuckled. “Coming from you, those are the same thing.” His mandibles twitched apart in a lopsided smile and James caught sight of the sharp teeth that gave Turians the reputation of eating their enemies during the First Contact War. “With Victus, however…”

Liara provided some extra information. “On Taetrus during the uprisings, his squad found a Salarian spy ring at about the same time the separatists did. Rather than neutralize the ring, he fell back and gave up valuable fortifications to the rebels.”

“The rebels found the Salarians and both groups wore each other down. Victus swooped in and cleaned up the rest. Didn’t lose a man,” Garrus finished.

“Bold strategy,” Corinthus said. “But wild behavior doesn’t get you advanced up the meritocracy.”

Shepard pursed her lips and nodded. “I like this guy. Work smart, not hard. Doesn’t give a fuck about what the boss thinks.”

Garrus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you do, Jane.”

First name? Not even Liara calls Shepard by her first name. At least… not in public.

Liara didn’t seem phased, so that was obviously normal for the pair of them. Maybe first-name-basis had a different cultural significance for Turians and that was why Shepard let it slide.

“So,” Shepard continued, “can we trust him?”

“We both know conventional strategy won’t beat the Reapers. Right now he could be our best shot. And even though he’s a bit of an ass, I do trust him.”

“And I trust you, so that’s good enough for me. So where do we find him?” Shepard turned back to Corinthus, who was poring over a battlefield map watching entire battalions get wiped out in real time.

Shepard put a hand to her earpiece. “Joker, can this wait a minute? I’m in the middle of a goddamn warzone.” Joker said something that made Shepard’s face darken and her scars grow more pronounced. “Gods above and below and in between…” Shepard groaned. “Liara, I need you to go try and help Joker fix the Normandy. Something… weird… is going on. I think it’s with EDI. Maybe you and Glyph can get into the AI core and see what’s wrong.”

Shepard kept doling out commands with snaps of her fingers as Liara ran back to Steve and the shuttle. “Corinthus, raise Victus. James, on me. We’re going to take care of that.” She pointed to a high cliff where something that looked like a Reaper dragon reared its head back in a loud roar.

Bullets started flying as the Harvester swooped low, dropping something on the ground a few hundred meters outside the camp.

“Okay, boys, let’s fucking go!” Shepard started forging a new pair of plasma skates. “You coming, Garrus?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jane? I’m right behind you,” Garrus replied.

Paragon

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jane? I’m right behind you.”

Until you leave again.

He’s not going to.

Bullshit.

Shepard jammed the volume on her music higher and pushed off on her skates. She heard someone struggling to get air through the comm. “James, is that you I hear breathing so hard?”

“Atmosphere’s a little thinner than I’m used to is all,” came the marine’s reply. “Adrenaline’s better than oxygen any day.”

Shepard twisted her feet to the side, braking hard and sending a spray of dust out from her skates. Reaper-fied Turians that had four or five glowing blue eyes like those cannibal things from Earth swarmed the airfield. Their guns were fused to their arms. She didn’t have to worry anymore, though. Garrus was safe on her six where he belonged.

“Here’s the plan,” she said. “Everyone knows their jobs?”

“You didn’t give an order, Commander,” James said.

Shepard silently cursed not having all of her old squad. She’d have even settled for Zaeed as backup right now. Captain Collateral Damage at least knew what he was doing. “Okay, Vega, you take that shotgun and act like you’re in fucking Zombieland . Full on Tallahassee’s last stand bullshit. If you can find a vehicle to crash into something, go for it. Garrus, do I need to spell shit out for you too?”

“Nope.”

“Good deal.” Shepard pushed off again, skimming over the ground to jump down past the barricades onto the airfield teeming with Reapers. She fired a few test shots that bounced off of shields with a blue ripple. Without even having to give the order, a bright ball of sparks arced over her head to crash into the ground and overload the Reaper-Turians’ shields.

God dammit, I’ve missed him!

Shepard swerved through the sea of enemies as a huge Reaper stomped across the moon’s surface in the distance. It fired its laser eye, shredding through anything in its path and vaporizing organic material. She would have been scared even a few hours ago. Now she had something to keep fighting for. Something personal.

Mordin Solus had once told her that the galaxy was difficult to personify, difficult to connect to any concrete emotion. It was why he’d called his nephew before Shepard’s team made their run on the Collector base at the galactic core. Commander Shepard knew how to fight for the galaxy. Jane, on the other hand, did everything in her power to keep even a single husk or Turian-Reaper from reaching the rocky ledge behind her because that was where Garrus was, hunkered down behind a thick metal barrier and poking the barrel of his gun out to keep her blind spot clear.

The Reaper in the distance made a loud pulsing noise that seemed to direct the ground troops. It had the added effect of rattling the brain of every organic being within range. Shepard bit the back of her tongue and stayed focused on her music. It could partially keep the Reaper out of her head. What it wasn’t doing, however, was shutting up the thoughts that came from her own mind.

I can’t have found him again just to lose him. Again.

He’s got a job here. That’s more important. “Reaper expert.” They need him.

Not more than I do.

Sacrifices have to be made. Saving the galaxy takes priority.

When do I get to stop sacrificing? When do I get to stop giving things up? When do I get to be happy?

Maybe if you hadn’t failed at getting the Council to listen to you three years ago, or gotten yourself killed, or let the Collectors fuck around for so long, or destroyed an entire system…

None of that was my fault!

You know he’s just going to stay here after you get the Primarch.

A bullet flashed by her throat that longed to be cradled by sharp teeth while she was bent back over the couch in her quarters with ten inches of ridged Turian cock halfway buried inside her. “Look alive, sweetheart.” Garrus’s voice didn’t come through the regular squad channel, but the frequency she used for her music.

She kept shooting, firing incendiary ammunition into any head she saw with dead blue glowing eyes. James was starting to get overwhelmed and she darted over to help him out. Shepard planted her hands against a stack of supplies and threw her legs around, cutting through enemies with her skates just like Goose had taught her. Was it really ten years ago now? It must have been.

When her feet hit the ground again, Shepard whipped herself to face the Reaper troops and shot anything that was left standing.

“Doing alright, Mr. Vega?” Shepard asked. She tapped her heels together and dispelled the plasma skates to dig in for a more stationary firefight. Another ball of sparks splashed to the ground, decimating the shields that stood between their bullets and what used to be living flesh.

James grunted a reply. “Working on it, Commander.” His shotgun blasted through the face of a husk. He had an impressive amount of re-killed bodies littered around his area of the airfield.

Shepard moved closer to James, keeping heat off his back. Garrus couldn’t flirt with her from behind his gun if she held this position, but her other squad member needed her help. She was the leader. She couldn’t focus on just one. Maybe Shepard wanted Garrus to stop being his stupid sexy self with his stupid sexy face and his stupid sexy voice. Sam Traynor wasn’t the only one who had a fetish for sexy voices. Waking up to Garrus purring the words “morning, gorgeous,” had been more than enough to get Shepard going on several occasions.

Those occasions weren’t going to happen anymore. Once they found Victus, this was goodbye for real.

At some point during the emotionally unstable haze of turn of the millennium alt rock, errant thoughts, and gunfire, Shepard’s squad succeeded in clearing the airfield. Craters where red meteors of Reaper forces had slammed into the ground smoldered around them. Nothing would be successfully taking off or landing here for a while, at least until the Turians repaved the runway.

James hauled himself up the ledge above the airfield. He and Garrus each reached down to help Shepard climb. She ignored both of their hands, grabbing the ledge and pushing herself up onto her palms. Her feet kicked at the air ineffectually as she struggled to shimmy forward.

Garrus grabbed ahold of her belt and pulled her onto the upper level with him and James. He stayed kneeling beside her, brushing some of the dust from her armor. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m in one piece.” She got to her feet and started walking back towards the camp.

Corinthus’s voice crackled through the radio. He hadn’t found Victus yet, something Shepard hated herself for being happy about. The longer it took to find the new Primarch, the longer she could stay here with Garrus. There was trouble in the camp, though. The main barricade was taking heavy fire and needed backup.

“I’m on it.” Shepard started running, eschewing her skates for the time being. Maybe feeling her feet pound into the hard earth would help get her damned brain into compliance.

If that wasn’t going to work, the very big mounted turret on this barricade would certainly be a welcome distraction. Shepard scrambled up the ladder with Garrus not too far behind her and James not too far behind him.

“Aw…” James whined. “I wanted to use the big gun.”

“Now’s not the time for machismo, James,” Shepard scolded. She glanced over at Garrus. “Any complaints from you?”

Garrus shook his head. “I don’t have a problem if you’ve got a bigger gun than me. My shot-to-kill ratio’s still going to be higher, though. It’s not the size that matters, it’s–”

“How you use it,” James said. “You know, for Humans that’s something limp dick bitches with zero cojones say?”

“I was actually going to say creativity and research,” Garrus sighed. He poked the tip of his tongue out of the side of his mouth and winked at Shepard. Shepard blinked rapidly as she felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She turned her focus to the turret and the enemies raining from the sky encased in pulsing red meteors. Shepard felt the hard kick of the turret as high caliber rounds tore through anything she could see. On either side of her, James and Garrus hooted and hollered like a couple of goddamn morons.

“Just picking them off,” James shouted. “Maybe I can do three at a time?”

“Okay, come on, who’s next?” Garrus yelled after blasting a husk off the barricade at point blank range with the Widow.

“Yeah! Like fish in a barrel!” James smiled widely, bursting skulls with his assault rifle. The husks were pretty mindless, rushing forward with little regard for their own continued existence.

“What?” Garrus asked above the gunfire.

“Old Human saying,” James said. “Like fish in a barrel.”

“Why the fuck are you putting fish in barrels? There’s gotta be a more efficient way to store them.”

Shepard was saved from James’s attempts at explaining Human idioms to a Turian by a glowing meteor, larger than the others, slamming into the ground and shaking the barricade. She lost her footing and fell to the side, tucking herself into a ball and rolling on instinct. She ran out of momentum in front of another of the giant flesh monsters with ribs sticking out of its shoulders and a Turian skull missing its mandibles and lower jaw sitting on top of a skinny neck made out of cables. It let out a gurgling, shrieking growl, turning its face towards the sky.

“Oh fuck ass bitch titties,” Shepard groaned, sitting up. “Here we go again.”

She was too far away from her squad to hear their voices above the background noise outside of the comm link.

“Holy hell!” James shouted. “What is that thing?”

“We’ve been calling them brutes,” Garrus replied. He sounded out of breath. “But it really doesn’t matter what you name it, it’ll tear you to shreds either way.”

Archangel

Oh sweet spirits… Not again. Please not again…

Garrus scrambled his ass down the opposite side of the barrier and ran as fast as he could to get to Jane. Bullets from Lieutenant Vega’s gun ricocheted off of the brute’s head. The Reapers’ monster reared back, swinging its massive pincer-sword-claws in preparation to cut Jane to pieces. Garrus dove for the ground. He wrapped his arms around Jane and pulled her out of the way. They tumbled over each other before coming to a stop as Garrus’s back slammed into a sheer rock face, winding him.

“You okay?” he gasped.

“Yeah,” Jane said. She looked a little rattled, but not too terribly shaken. “I had it.”

“I’ve seen one of those things literally snap someone in half, Jane.” Garrus pulled her closer.

Jane wriggled out of his arms. She helped pull him to his feet. Lieutenant Vega had succeeded in distracting the brute just long enough to let them get their bearings.

“Ever heard of death by one thousand cuts?” Jane asked. She forged another pair of blades to attach to her boots. Upon closer inspection, they had a startlingly familiar design philosophy.

How much do I want to bet that those were Tali’s idea?

“As a particularly brutal execution method from Turian history.” Garrus shuddered. There were precious few places where a Turian’s carapace didn’t cover. Limbs had been cut off before reaching one-thousand.

“We had something similar.” Jane created one last blade, this one sticking out of her omni-tool. “Keep me covered.” She turned to speed away.

“Jane, wait!” Garrus reached for her hand that was just out of his reach. The metallic growls of husks began to grow louder. Garrus pulled his Mattock off his belt and started shooting, keeping one eye in his scope and the other on Jane.

Why does she do the crazy shit only when I’m around?

She either wanted to see him dead, or wanted him to be driven so close to insanity by anxiety that he bent her over the nearest piece of furniture the second he got her alone. Garrus couldn’t wait to get his teeth around her neck right up under her skull, even though he knew things didn’t actually work that way for Humans. There were a few different kinds of sex for Turians, and just like everything else with his species they had a ranking or hierarchy. Everything he’d done with Jane, especially on their last morning together, had come from the very top. That was the kind of sex a man had with a woman he was committing to for the rest of his existence.

Jane baited the brute around in circles, slashing at the thick hide on its back to keep it interested in her. She kept herself just out of range of the claws, but that was still too close for comfort. Garrus found a break in the onslaught of husks and loaded the Mattock with armor piercing ammunition. His fingers brushed against the jewelry box in his ammo pouch as he fished out the rounds and a fresh thermal clip.

Woman, I swear to whatever god you fucking pray to, when I wife that sweet ass of yours…

Jane lurched to the side, hand going to her right hip as her face contorted in pain. She managed to keep her balance and switched directions on her plasma skates, but still favored that side. Garrus put his crosshairs right between the brute’s eyes and fired the gun as fast as he could jerk the trigger. The good thing about a heavy AR like this was that he didn’t have to worry much about where the bullets were going. If he wasn’t perfectly on target, it’d be fine.

Some combination of Jane trying to cut the thing to ribbons and both his and Vega’s bullets finally made the brute fall over. The eerie light shining out from dead eye sockets faded.

“That was sick!” Vega jumped down into the wide basin below the barricade. “Maybe I do need to start calling you Loca!”

Jane just clicked her heels together and dropped down onto the soles of her boots once more. “I told you I’m crazy.”

“One of these days I’m checking you into a psych ward.” Garrus let his shoulders relax and tried to restore a proper balance of oxygen and carbon dioxide in his bloodstream.

“Oh, come on. Your life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without me in it.”

“Something tells me he doesn’t agree,” Vega said. “I’m all for crazy, Lola.”

Lola? What the hell?

“Vega, what the fuck did I say about nicknames?” Jane crossed her arms and cocked her hip out to the side. She pushed it a little farther than normal, probably trying to crack the joint.

“You said not on missions,” Vega replied. “But he doesn’t call you ‘Shepard’, either.” He pointed at Garrus.

“Garrus is a… uh… special case.”

Is he… trying to FLIRT? With MY girlfriend?

He has been checking out her ass this whole time and thinking he’s being discreet about it.

“Jane, come over here. I’ll fix that hip for you.” Garrus grabbed her by the hand and led her to the sheer rock face. He planted his knee in the back of her left thigh and leaned against her, keeping her pressed up against the purple-gray stone. He pulled her right leg back and up, one hand gripping just below her knee and the other sliding a little higher on her inner thigh than he actually needed to. She didn’t have armor there, and Garrus could dig his fingers into the hard muscles that gave way only for him. “Deep breath,” he instructed. “On three… Three!” Garrus jerked Jane’s leg back, feeling the femur fall out of her hip socket and slam back in with a painful sounding pop.

“Holy mother of god, I’ve missed you!” Jane’s voice was half shout, half sigh, and all relief. Garrus let her off the rock face and she swung her leg back and forth with its full range of motion returned. “That’s needed to go since Mars!”

Garrus glanced back at Vega and exhaled sharply through his nose at the other man.

“Soldier, Reaper expert, chiropractor?” Vega raised an eyebrow at Garrus.

Come on, motherfucker. Don’t play dumb. She has to have told you.

Wait…Has she told anyone I’m her…?

Liara’s with them, and Liara knows. Joker is too, and so does he. EDI sure as hell does. Why wouldn’t Jane have told this guy? Even Admiral-Fucking-Hackett knows I’m her damn boyfriend.

“As long as I keep him supplied with guns to tinker with, he’s never charged me a dime,” Jane said. “Garrus seriously should have been a doctor instead of a cop. Fucking magic hands.”

“Jane, you know I’m only good with weapons,” Garrus said. “Which includes you, come to think of it, considering you’re the deadliest bitch in space.”

She smiled and batted her sparkling eyes at him, tossing her hair back out of her eyes. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Vakarian.”

“Please, Mr. Vakarian is my father.” He offered Jane his arm, which she gladly took. “It’s just ‘Garrus’ to you.”

“What about ‘Archangel’?” Jane teased.

Surprisingly, he was okay with that. “Maybe as long as there aren’t any mercs around to hear you. There’s still a bounty for me on Omega, remember, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” Vega repeated from behind them, the incredulity apparent in his voice. “Wait a fucking minute. Are you two…?” He didn’t seem to be able to finish the sentence.

Garrus stopped walking to let Vega catch up. “You didn’t tell him?” he asked Jane.

“Honey, until a little while ago I didn’t know if you were alive or dead.” Jane leaned her head against his arm. “It’s not like I could get a message to you.”

Candidate

“Sweetheart?” James Vega couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sure, Esteban had said the Commander was in a relationship, but his living gaydar hadn’t been able to mark Shepard as a xeno? “Wait a fucking minute,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “Are you two…?”

How did he finish that sentence? Were they a thing? Were they just fucking? He hadn’t seen a wedding ring on Shepard, so they obviously weren’t married, right? What the hell did she find attractive about something designed to kill her? How did they even have sex, if they did at all? Maybe Shepard was ace and they just had an emotional thing? That might explain why she didn’t seem to understand just how fucking distracting she was.

“You didn’t tell him?” Garrus asked, looking down at Shepard. They had stopped walking. James caught up as fast as he was able.

“Honey,” Shepard said, “until a little while ago I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. It’s not like I could get a message to you.”

“I’m not mad,” Garrus reassured the Commander.

“It’s not like I haven’t told anyone. We’ve got this comm specialist, Sam, she knows. And the shuttle pilot, Cortez. He did warn me that some of the other Alliance crew might not be… receptive… to the idea, though.”

“Dammit, Esteban!” James cursed his old friend. “He could have fucking said something to me before I–”

“Made an ass of yourself?” Garrus supplied.

“Garrus!” Shepard scolded him and lightly slapped his arm.

Maybe James still had an opening. “So what happens when we find the Primarch and go?”

“I’m coming with you, obviously,” Garrus said. He directed the words to the Commander and not James.

“What about the fight here?” Shepard asked.

They’d reached the barricade. Shepard climbed up first, with her alien boyfriend following behind her, probably so he could check out her ass. It’s what James would have done. As James climbed up, Shepard got another communication from Corinthus. Despite all the effort Liara put into fixing the comm tower, they couldn’t get a radio signal to the new Primarch.

“Shit,” Shepard cursed. “Garrus, take us to the last place you saw Victus.”

“Well, we have to climb back down,” Garrus said, looking out beyond the barricade. “Should be pretty quick, unless we find trouble.”

“Don’t we always find trouble?” Shepard beamed.

“Yes, I think you’re something of a magnet for it.” Garrus reached out and tucked Shepard’s bangs behind her ear.

Lucky bastard.

You’ve still got a shot, though. Even if he’s Mr. Right, you’re Mr. Right Now once you get back off this moon.

Back down the barricade they went. Garrus took off at what James felt certain was a leisurely jog for the alien while Shepard hustled to keep up with him and they both left James in the dust.

He was able to catch back up after sliding down an embankment where Shepard and Garrus stood looking up at the burning planet around which this moon orbited.

“Dammit… look at Palaven,” Garrus said. “See that big blaze of orange?” He pointed out a fireball that appeared to spread out along what probably used to be superhighways. “That’s where I was born.”

“Are your dad and sister okay?” Shepard asked.

“I’ve got no fucking clue.” Garrus hung his head. “I haven’t even been able to try and contact mom either.”

“Last I heard, Illium’s safe so far.”

“How bad is it?” James looked up at the burning planet and couldn’t help but think of Earth.

“Three million lost the first day. Five the second. The number just keeps going higher.” Garrus looked around at the remnants of what had been a slaughter. Splashes of blue Turian blood painted the walls of the shallow canyon they were walking through. “Military’s not doing much better.”

“You’re putting up a good fight,” Shepard reassured Garrus. She took his hand. Despite her attempt at being genuine, the platitude rang hollow even to James’s ears.

“For now.” Garrus took his eyes from the burning planet and looked down at Shepard again. “But how long’s it take before the fight’s kicked out of you? I’ve never understood how you do it.”

Shepard shrugged. “I’m honestly not sure either.”

“If they’d only listened to your warnings about the Reapers, we might’ve been ready.” Garrus’s other hand balled into a fist.

James inserted himself back into the conversation. “Hard to figure how you’d prepare for something like this.” The Reapers definitely were one of those seeing is believing things in James’s mind. He’d fought Collectors, he’d heard about the Battle for the Citadel in which a full third of the Alliance’s available forces had been destroyed. The Reapers didn’t seem truly real until he’d ran through the streets of Vancouver while giant robot squids from outer space smashed buildings and burned people alive.

“Come on.” Shepard tugged Garrus’s hand, pulling the alien’s focus from his devastated homeworld. “We won’t help them if we don’t find the Primarch.”

The shallow canyon continued onwards with several lower ledges along its inner walls that made scaling it much easier. It opened onto a wider area filled with husks that ran to ambush the trio of soldiers. Shepard unceremoniously blew their heads off with her pistol.

“Those gun mods cannot be legal,” James said when the last husk’s skull disappeared in a spray of black ichor and white shards.

“The good thing about working in law enforcement is that you know exactly how to skirt the law without breaking it. Some people take that to morally bankrupt extremes,” Garrus said by way of an explanation.

“Garrus just makes me really good guns that are really good at killing rogue Spectres and corrupt cops.” Shepard put the gun back in its holster on her thigh.

“We didn’t kill Harkin, Jane.”

“Yeah, but his ass is still rotting in a jail cell.”

Another group of husks skittered up the walls. “Dammit, I hate these things!” James said, firing out shells as fast as he was able. “And New York is supposed to be crawling with them! I never should have left Earth…”

“It’s gonna be bad all over,” Garrus said. He picked husks off as their heads came into view over the lip of the cliff face next to them.

“Leaving the fight still just pisses me off,” James spat. Who cared if it was bad on some alien worlds when Earth was in shambles? How was Humanity supposed to recover?

“You’re here asking Victus to do the same thing,” Garrus shot back.

“Enough!” Shepard barked, shutting them up. “Less arguing, more shooting! This fucking war summit is the only goddamn chance any of us have at beating the Reapers! Ass!”

James wasn’t sure if the extra curse was at something in particular, or just tacked on to communicate Shepard’s frustration. He wasn’t one to fuck around and find out, however. Best to leave that to the alien boyfriend until Garrus pissed Shepard off enough.

A Harvester swooped overhead. They followed its flight path to a group of soldiers, one of whom was downed. Shepard kneeled, cracking open a can of medigel from off her belt with her teeth. “Soldier, you okay?” she asked the wounded one.

“We’ll be okay,” he said, gratefully accepting the medigel and starting to apply it to his wounds.

“Have you seen General Victus?” Garrus asked the soldier who was still standing.

“Half hour ago, headed south.”

A ship could be seen flaming in the distance, in front of a Reaper stomping over the ground and shooting its red eye laser at anything in its path. James wondered aloud just how many troops were in that crash. It had been a pretty vessel, well made and obviously well loved by her crew. Shepard turned them south, away from the crash site.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

No matter the rage of the tide at our shores,

I'll love you forever. Forever I'm yours.

Paragon

“Come on. Let’s go.” Shepard took off at a run. A squad of agile fighter ships danced through the sky overhead. One of them was smoking. Shepard ignored them and kept running, but the smoking one started rapidly losing altitude. Garrus jerked her back before she ran within the blast radius when it crashed, turning to keep her against the rock face next to them and shielding her from the worst of the heat as its eezo core exploded.

“That was a little closer than I’d like,” he said. Garrus brushed her hair back and wiped soot off her cheek with his thumb. “Bit singed, were you?”

“I’m fine .” Shepard spat the words. She didn’t need him protecting her. She couldn’t rely on it, no matter how nice it felt.

You can still enjoy it while he’s here.

That had been the approach she’d finally settled on. Let herself be with Garrus while she had the chance, and then give him a proper goodbye, or maybe a “see you later”. She hoped the marriage pact they’d made in Liara’s old base of operations was still in effect. Shepard thought she might like having a personal stake in this war to supplement her obligation to the galaxy after everything she’d fucked up so far.

Part of her was still wanting to push Garrus away, though. She thought that maybe that would make leaving again easier. He said he was coming with her, but that wasn’t true and the both of them knew it.

Shepard kept her focus on the task at hand, ignoring the way her heart was pounding, just like it always did when Garrus had her up against a wall. She put her hands just below the collar of his armor and pushed him back. “I’m okay,” she said, softer this time. “We’ve got a mission. Let’s go.”

“You think this summit is going to work?” James asked as they kept snaking through a maze of shallow canyons and rocky outcroppings. “Asari? Salarians? Where are the Krogan and Batarians? Where’s the meat!?”

“It’s… not that easy,” Shepard said, unsure of how to explain to James that the Batarians were almost all gone. They inhabited the Hades Gamma cluster, where the Alpha Relay had been. Shepard had destroyed the Alpha Relay and the entire Bahak system along with it. The Reapers still arrived in that part of the galaxy, but it had taken them months to get to Earth and Palaven without access to the mass relays, even traveling faster than light.

Garrus saved her from having to answer anything else. “The Batarians took the first hit when the Reapers arrived. Not much left of them. And the Krogan have never forgiven us for the genophage.”

“With good reason,” Shepard said. “However, maybe me being on hugging terms with the fuckmothering King of Tuchanka could score us some points.”

“Wrex still wants to tear my scutes off,” Garrus said.

“Right, Turians sterilized them,” James said.

“Salarians came up with it,” Garrus protested.

“And the Krogan hate them both for it,” Shepard snapped.

“So, they won’t be joining us as far as I know,” Garrus said.

“Too bad,” James sighed. “I fought with a Krogan. They’re tough sons of bitches.”

“Remind me to introduce you to Grunt,” Shepard said. “Assuming he’s still alive.”

“It’s Grunt, Jane. You think he’d get himself killed?”

Fireballs rained from the sky. Shepard picked up the pace. She found a shattered barrier that was supposed to keep enemies out of another basin surrounded by ridges. Why the hell did everything associated with Turians have to have ridges? That was where the fireballs were landing, and this was why Victus wasn’t replying. They were overrun.

Shepard swapped playlists, picking the “Maximum Effort” one out of her library. At least EDI had fixed Shepard’s omni-tool before going on the fritz. If Shepard lost her music today, she would have lost her goddamn mind. Or whatever was left of it.

There weren’t just the Turian-Reaper things here. The cannibals she’d seen on Earth also joined the fray. Parts of the camp were on fire. Shepard vaulted over a large boulder rather than run around it.

“Jane, did that Reaper just eat another Reaper?”

“Yeah, they do that.”

“Just when you think you’ve seen everything…”

“The world devolves into new levels of depravity.” Shepard got the drop on a couple of the cannibals and put them down with shots to the back of the head.

“Marauder, top level, your 2:15.” Garrus called his shot and the Turian-Reaper was drowned in a shower of sparks that overloaded its shield before Garrus cracked what had been its crest off with the Widow.

Shepard fired her Carnifex into the sky. The loud boom attracted the attention of some of the Reapers, who broke from their back lines towards Shepard’s waiting killbox. One of the cannibals hucked a grenade at her. She turned to the side and connected the top of her foot to it in a kick that sent the projectile back from whence it came. It landed in the cannibal’s open mouth before exploding.

That was…oddly satisfying.

Further inside the compound, another brute slammed into the ground. Shepard had half a mind to weave her way through the cannibals and marauders between her and it, but her shield had already taken a beating. She needed to find someplace to let it recharge. She was spoiled for choice on cover, but opted to dart back towards Garrus, scrambling behind the building he was using.

For the first time today, she pulled the Mantis off her back and leaned around the corner while Garrus reloaded the Widow. One of the cannibals threw another grenade and she shot it out of the air.

“Ha!” she laughed in triumph. “This is pretty easy once you get the hang of it!”

Garrus patted her on the head. “Let me show you how it’s done, sweetheart.” He shot two grenades falling towards them in quick succession before obliterating the head of the cannibal that threw them.

Shepard peeked around the corner again, headhunting her way down a line of marauders. “Like that?”

“Please tell me you practiced for the last six months,” Garrus said.

“Three. First three I was in jail, remember?” She saw a blue ripple in the corner of her eye letting her know that her shields were back up. “Keep them off me, babe. I’m going in.” She started forward, but Garrus’s hand closed around her upper arm. He pulled her back around to face him and into a kiss.

“I love you. Now go do some crazy shit.”

Archangel

Garrus tracked Jane with his scope, shooting grenades out of the air around her and keeping tabs on any bullets flying by her that did not come from him. She pumped the brute full of holes, and when that wasn’t enough to kill it she decided it would be a good time to shorten Garrus’s lifespan again. She dodged her way inside the reach of its claws and jumped, catching its neck in one hand and slicing her plasma knife through the cables with the other. It seemed to not have a sense of direction without the head, but it wasn’t quite dead yet. Rather than run out there after Jane, though, Garrus shot at the stump where its neck used to be. If they were created from organic life, they might operate on the same basic principles. If he could destroy the spine, or at least enough of it, maybe it’d stop moving.

Vega was doing well keeping up with Garrus and Jane. Garrus could respect that. Sure, the fuckhead had been hitting on Garrus’s girlfriend, but what had he even expected? It was Jane. The entire galaxy would fall in love with her if they gave her half a chance. Garrus couldn’t exactly blame Vega. That didn’t mean Garrus had to forgive him, though. Not yet, anyway.

He could hear Victus calling out orders to his men somewhere in this camp as hell quite literally rained from the sky around them. It didn’t look like there was an end in sight.

Two more brutes crashed into Menae’s surface. By the time this war was over, Palaven’s largest moon would be more craters than ridges. Jane baited the pair of them towards each other, dodging out of the way at the last minute. What these enemies had in brawn apparently came at the cost of brain. They got their necks tangled together and jerked and pulled to try and get apart. Claws started slamming into hulking mounds of dead flesh. Garrus was forced to look away and fire at a fresh group of marauders who’d emerged from a smoldering crater. When he looked back, his Commander had climbed on top of one of the brutes and was using the spikes coming out of its shoulders as an anchor while she tried to saw both of the heads off. Her plasma knife kept breaking and she continuously needed to forge a new one.

Why not just use her legs?

She seemed to have the same idea Garrus did. Jane flash-forged a blade to attach to her boot and brought her leg down on the spot she’d been sawing. The brutes’ heads hit the ground as black liquid spewed from the severed necks. They’d done enough damage to each other for that to be the killing blow. She sprang down from the one she’d been standing on and landed gracefully on the hard earth, bending her knees to absorb the shock.

Garrus pushed forward, finding a crate of provisions to hide behind. Somehow it hadn’t been riddled with holes. Maybe he could requisition it when he got back on the Normandy. He was looking forward to sleeping in a bed larger than the tiny bunks afforded soldiers on Menae’s moon base.

Could he really leave, though? Leave his people to keep fighting a battle they might lose while his homeworld burned? Garrus felt he’d hardly done any good here. He’d been about as effective as a one-man army taking on the gangs of Omega again. With Jane, though, he could do something. He could help with whatever insanity the Alliance had lined up for her.

Once the camp was cleared of enemies, Garrus pointed out General Victus to Jane. He was an older Turian with brown scales and off-white clan markings wearing red and black armor. She marched up the ramp to his command center and said to him, “General Victus. Come with me.”

“Wait,” Victus said. “Who the hell are you?”

“Commander Shepard of the Normandy. Now come on. We’re leaving.”

His eyes lit up in recognition. “I’ve heard of you. I can’t wait to find out what brings you out here.” He turned to Garrus and barked, “Vakarian, where did you fuck off to?”

Garrus narrowed his eyes at the general. “Heavy Reaper unit on the right flank. I believe your exact words were, ‘get that thing the hell off my men’.” And then you fucking bailed, bastard. You’re lucky that stunt wound up with me finding Jane again, or I’d rip your mandibles clean off your face. I don’t give half a fuck you’re the Primarch now.

“Appreciate it.” Victus turned back to Jane. “Now why am I supposed to go with you?”

“You’re needed off-planet and they sent me to pick you up. My ship is on standby, now come on before more Reapers show up.”

“It’ll take something beyond important for me to leave my men, or my Turian brothers and sisters, in their fight.” Victus looked away.

Jane crossed her arms, cocked one hip out to the side and she somehow managed to look down her nose at a man nearly a foot taller than herself. “You’re the new Primarch and you’re needed for a war summit. Pack your shit.”

“Fedorian was killed,” Garrus said, trying to offer more context. As much as he loved watching his Commander act like she owned the place, now might be the time for a more tactful approach.

Victus brushed past the both of them and stared at the burning planet that dominated the sky. “I’m Primarch of Palaven… negotiating for the Turian Hierarchy…?”

“Yes,” Jane said.

“I’ve spent my whole life in the military,” Victus protested. “I’m no diplomat. I hate diplomats.”

“Me too, buddy, but here the fuck we are. I got unilateral authority to enter into treaties on behalf of literally all Humanity this fucking morning .” Jane jammed a finger into her palm on each word. “Neither of us do shit by the book, and we piss people off. I think that’s perfect to run a war summit.”

“My family’s been in the military since the Unification War. War is my life. It’s in my bones.” Victus struggled to find a counterargument. “But that kind of passion is… deceptive. Makes you seem reckless when you’re anything but.”

“War’s your resume. We’re at war against extinction, not just any regular enemy. But we need leaders who’ve been through that hell. Who know what war looks like from the ground.” Jane’s eyes burned and Garrus watched that strange battlefield magic of hers start to work on Adrien Victus.

“I like that. You’re right,” Victus agreed with Jane.

“Uniting these races might take just as much strength as fighting the Reapers.” Jane turned and walked to the ridge at the edge of camp and pointed down to the smoking ruin of a ship Garrus had seen on their way up here. “See this devastation, Primarch?” Jane looked back at Victus. “Double that for Earth. I need an alliance. I need the Turian fleets.”

Victus came to stand next to Jane and stared at the downed ship. “Give me a moment to say goodbye to my men.”

“Absolutely. They deserve a proper goodbye.” Jane looked from the general back to the ship and up to the sky where Palaven burned.

Garrus tried to imagine what must have happened to Jane’s homeworld for her to say it was worse than this. He didn’t think anything could be worse. But Victus being at the top of the meritocracy now meant that he was the best chance the Turians had for keeping Menae. If Menae fell, so too would Palaven.

“Call it my eternal pessimism,” he said, sidling up to Jane, “but if he leaves, we probably lose this moon.”

“Without him up there, we probably lose everything,” Jane cast her gaze from the stars down to the hard-packed gray dust beneath their feet. She’d wound up covered in that dust. It clung to her armor, her cheeks, even her hair.

A Reaper lumbered across the ground on its short tentacles in their sightline. “Look at that,” Garrus said. “And they want my opinion on how to stop it? Failed C-Sec officer, vigilante… and I’m their expert advisor?” He took Jane’s hand. “Think we can win this thing?”

“Yeah, I don’t know…” She looked up at him with her galaxy-eyes swimming in a sea of glittering tears that she stubbornly refused to let fall. “But I’m sure as hell gonna give it my best fucking shot. I promise you that.”

“I’m damn sure nobody else can do it.” Garrus leaned down for a kiss but she dodged him. “For whatever it’s worth, sweetheart,” he said, “I’m with you.”

Garrus stood with Jane watching the world go to hell around them. Regardless of what he might be leaving behind to join her on the Normandy again, he knew that was where he needed to be. Not just for the galaxy, not even just for his family. Garrus needed to be there for Jane. If she was going to defeat the Reapers in a torrent of heavenly fire, she’d need something to burn. If anyone else had shown up on this moon, he’d have dismissed them out of hand. Because it was his Commander, however, Garrus jumped at the chance.

Victus called him over. He reluctantly dropped Jane’s hand to go speak with the new Primarch.

“Vakarian, I’ve got your orders,” Victus began.

“Sir, with all due respect, you transfer my post to the Normandy, or I abandon it and go anyway.” Garrus held the Primarch in a staredown, compelling the older man to blink first.

He was successful. “Fine,” Victus said. “Shepard’s plan had better get results.”

“It will. I trust and respect her over anyone else in the galaxy.”

“Spirits…” Victus grumbled. “He had to be a wife guy…”

Fuck… subvocals…

Paragon

Shepard looked over fire and ruin as a strong wind kicked up and tugged at her hair. She’d finished her mission, she’d found the Primarch, now it was time to go. Even though it should have been on Earth, she was leaving her heart on this alien moon. She felt guilty. Commander Shepard’s loyalties lay with the Alliance and Earth, her homeworld, her species. Jane, however, just wanted a version of the universe where she could go to sleep and wake up next to Garrus Vakarian every night and morning. It was a wish she wouldn’t be granted, though. She needed to come to terms with that in the next few minutes so that she could leave and dedicate the next however long it took to fixing her mistakes and winning an impossible war. Hopefully by some miracle, if she did well enough, Garrus would still be alive at the end of this and they could finally be together for real.

Victus was ready to leave. “Commander,” he said to Shepard, “I appreciate your need for our fleets, but I can’t spare them. Not while my world is burning. But… If the pressure could be taken off Palaven…”

“What do you want?” Shepard asked.

“We need the Krogan,” Victus said. “Get them to help us, and I can see about helping you. We can’t win this without them.”

Shepard briefly considered his request. Krogan were difficult to kill on a bad day, and these were very bad days. The only problem was that they had no spaceships, no true military to speak of. The best they had were the Blood Pack, which was now mostly a Vorcha cesspit since Ash and her squad slaughtered Clan Weyrloc to find Mordin’s wayward student, Maelon.

“I get Krogan boots on Palaven, you give me Turian ships for Earth?” Shepard clarified.

Victus nodded. “Exactly.”

“Good thing I’m one of two sapient beings that get to hug the fucking King of Tuchanka and live to tell the tale. The other is a twenty-five-year-old Quarian with a cussing problem.” Shepard put a hand to her earpiece and radioed the shuttle. “Cortez, we’ve got the Primarch. Come and get us. Forwarding our coordinates.”

“Aye aye, Commander,” Cortez replied.

She left Victus to finish gathering his things and found Garrus sitting on a crate filled with rations like he’d claimed it. Maybe he had. The Primarch would need something to eat, and dextro food wasn’t exactly abundant on a Human ship.

“Guess this is goodbye,” Shepard said. She choked on the word. “It was good to see you again.”

Garrus pulled his brow plates together. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m coming with you, Jane.”

“What? Why?”

“Victus doesn’t know shit about the Reapers, and is bringing me along as his advisor. He also needs someone to help him coordinate the Turian forces when we get the Krogan allied with us. Plus another friendly face won’t hurt to sweet-talk Wrex. Sadly, you’ll have to settle for me instead of Tali.”

Shepard’s heart thudded against her ribs, trying to break free and fly to Garrus. He was going to be back on the ship! She didn’t have to be alone anymore! She could bring him with her on missions, make him coffee in the morning, snuggle, make out in the battery, and have all the rough, sharp, fast sex she wanted in her massive bed. Maybe for just a little while all could be right in the world even as hell itself closed in from dark space.

“Speechless?” Garrus smiled at her, mandibles flaying apart. “Sweetheart, we haven’t even made it to the bed yet.”

Shepard wanted to throw her arms around his neck, plop her ass into his lap, and stay there until Cortez got to them in the shuttle. She recalled the shock and disdain in James’s voice when he’d put two and two together and realized that Garrus was much more than an old friend. If that had been the reaction of a Human who hadn’t even been born when the First Contact War took place, what would Turians think? What would the new Primarch think if his “Reaper expert advisor” was a damn xeno? Victus probably fought in the First Contact War. Garrus had a real chance to make something of himself and advance his way up the meritocracy.

She couldn’t jeopardize that for him. Not when he’d be good at leading.

Make sure you do the leaving this time. It won’t hurt if you do it to him.

But I don’t want to…

Yes we do. We don’t have time for an alien boyfriend when the galaxy’s at stake. No cost is too great.

But this one is…

Her psyche was just going to keep bullying itself until she either gave in and did what it wanted or found a new fucking therapist to help her make sense of everything, including the three months in the blacksite. Her arms wrapped around herself, crossing across her waist. The scar was gone, perfectly erased with no evidence of what had happened, but the damage was still there.

Garrus stood up off of the crate and pulled her into an embrace. Shepard’s eyes darted back towards the direction Primarch Victus had gone. He wasn’t looking this way. For a little bit longer, at least, she could enjoy the feeling of being held.

LC

Ashley woke up to bright sunlight, sterile white walls, and the just a little too stiff mattress of a hospital bed. She felt the warm tingle of an IV pumping painkillers and saline into her arm. Her head ached, but this was far better than the throbbing, swimming feeling she remembered.

Something was wrapped around one of her hands. She held up a fine gold chain with two pendants on it. One was her icon of St. Brendan, the other was a locket of some sort. Ashley opened the locket to find an image of Liara.

“...please get better…”

Maybe it was a little sacreligious to keep a picture of her wife on the same chain as a saint’s icon. Li couldn’t have known, though. She hadn’t quite grasped the complexity of Human religious traditions yet. And it had been too long since Ashley had been inside of a church for any reason aside from a wedding to care all that much.

Ashley sat up in her bed and looked around the room. Readouts of her pulse, breathing, and blood oxygen levels ran down a screen on the wall. A board next to it displayed instructions for how to summon a doctor or nurse. Ashley pressed the button on the side of her bed to signal that she was up.

“Ms. Williams,” a woman with a thick French accent said. “I am pleased to see you are awake.” She was petite, brunette, with a healthy tan.

“Dr. Michel,” Ashley said. “It’s been a while.”

The doctor nodded. “Three years, I think, since you, Commander Shepard, and that Turian C-Sec officer dealt with Fist for me.”

“Is the Normandy still docked? I’d like to see–”

Dr. Michel shook her head. “The ship departed on an urgent mission. I can, however, send a progress update to your bondmate. Liara T’Soni was listed as your next of kin on your intake paperwork.”

Ashley nodded. “Please. I want Li to know I’m okay.”

“Mostly okay, Ms. Williams.” Dr. Michel folded her hands behind her back. “You sustained severe head trauma and experienced swelling in your brain. That will take time to recover from. I’ve set up physical therapy classes for you to begin when you’re off bedrest.”

“Hey, you’re the boss, Dr. Michel.” Ashley looped the chain around her neck and laid back on the hospital bed, turning the locket over in her fingers.

Chapter Text

Everything feels so contrary.

Maybe I should start the healing.

Joker

“Oh hell no.” Jeff Moreau could handle his ship going nuts. He could handle the smothering AI losing her fucking shit. What he could not handle, however, were those two things happening at the same time a man he really needed to punch walked his scaly ass back onto the Normandy.

Joker rolled up his sleeves, or he would have if he wore long sleeves. He mimed the motion and left the cockpit, marched down to the crew deck, stomped into the battery, tapped a Turian on the shoulder, and slammed the most painful right hook he could manage into the alien’s jaw when Garrus turned around. It was easier said than done. Joker was punching up at Garrus’s stupid face.

“OW!” Joker shook out his hand that crackled and stung with pain. Chakwas would have his hide for this.

Garrus reached up and touched the side of his face, wiggling the mandible Joker hit. “Hello, Joker?”

“You have a lot of fucking nerve coming back here,” Joker hissed, partially from pain and partially from the anger. “After what you did to the Commander, you’re lucky I don’t shoot you on sight.”

“You don’t have to remind me. I know, and I’m pretty sure she’s mad at me but she just won’t say it.”

“You’re a damned idiot, you know that?” Joker asked. “And you don’t deserve her forgiving you and letting you back onto this boat.”

Garrus nodded. “Again, you don’t have to tell me.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I had to mouth off to the Primarch to get back here. Tell him I was going to defy a direct order if he didn’t put me back on the Normandy.”

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Joker’s hand was starting to burn. He needed to see Dr. Chakwas, but he wasn’t done ripping Garrus a new one yet. “You didn’t see how fucking broken she was when she found out you were gone, and she wasn’t even mad at you! She should have been mad at you, sworn off your scaly spiky ass, and moved on. She wasn’t mad at you then, and she isn’t mad at you now, you fucking bonehead.”

“What did you fucking call me, Moreau?” Garrus growled.

“Yeah. I called you a bonehead. I’m gonna call you a scale-brained soft-plated pansy ass and a crestless little bitch too. Does your mommy still chew your food?” Joker had spent a fair amount of time researching Turian insults so he had some verbal ammunition if he ever saw Garrus again.

“Joker, are you going somewhere with this, or do I need to toss you out of my battery by your belt loops?”

“You hurt Shepard, broke her fucking heart like you didn’t even give a damn. Someone’s going to hold you accountable for it.”

The lights flickered before Garrus could reply.

“EDI?” Joker called. No response. He ran up to her terminal in the battery and tried again. “EDI? Come on… Don’t do this again…”

“I thought Liara helped you fix what was happening with the ship?” Garrus said.

“Obviously there’s still a problem, fuckhead,” Joker snapped. He had to get back to the cockpit. With EDI offline, they were flying without anyone in the driver’s seat. If Shepard found out, she’d have his skin tanned and prepared for display as a throw rug.

Paragon

Tevos and the Asari were out. The Salarians were pissed. Shepard had to get the Krogan on board. She didn’t have a choice anymore. The bad blood between the species was hundreds of years old. Entire empires had risen and fallen in that time. None of them wanted to work together, though. That stubbornness would get everyone killed.

Lucky for the galaxy she was Commander Goddamn Shepard, and her head was harder than even the toughest Krogan’s faceplates.

Hackett was just as pissed as Shepard was at the alien races. Casualty reports from Earth kept pouring in. The entire second fleet had been wiped out to cover the retreat for the third and fifth. If Shepard was feeling the heat, she could only imagine how Hackett was doing with the Reapers pinning Humanity against a wall, and not in the fun sexy way her brain conjured up.

Stop it. Focus. Not fucking the alien boyfriend. Not even sure if he still is the alien boyfriend.

“How do you see us winning this, Admiral?” Shepard asked. She wanted some kind of guidance, some direction from someone who knew what the hell they were doing.

His reply made her heart drop down a bottomless pit. “By making you the tip of the spear.”

“I’m f-flattered Admiral,” Shepard said. “But the Normandy’s just one ship.”

“And a fast one. You can move quickly, hit a target, and retreat before the enemy has time to react.”

“Can that win a war?” Sure, the Normandy had a top speed of twenty-five lightyears a day, more if Shepard had Tali down in the engine room working her Quarian wizardry. But was this whole thing really riding on Shepard? Could she handle that?

“It’s the larger principle that matters, Shepard. We’ll never beat the Reapers in a full frontal assault. The battle against Sovereign three years ago took everything we had. And that was just one Reaper.”

“I haven’t forgotten…” Shepard hung her head.

Through the glass ceiling of the Presidium. Shepard could see the Destiny Ascension blocked by Sovereign’s tentacles. The massive living ship tried to close in on the Council’s vessel while thousands of Geth fighters strafed the Citadel. She had once choice, and hoped her ship would be fast enough to make it.

“Joker! Rally the Alliance Forces! The Citadel’s under attack, and the Council’s in danger,” she said, trying to signal the Normandy from the opposite side of the galaxy. Music thudded in one ear. Residential blocks were bright flashes of orange and red flame where twinkling city lights and neon once glowed. Shepard was just one person, how the fuck was she supposed to fix this mess that she’d stumbled into?

“Let’s get a move on,” Shepard said, looking back over her shoulder at Tali and Garrus who were still a little disoriented from their jump through the miniature relay.

“Point me to the asses, Shepard, I’ll fucking kick them!” Tali punctuated her sentence by knocking over an ornamental tree in a large pot with a kick from one of her bird-legs. Shepard caught sight of a knife strapped to the Quarian’s ankle and wondered why Tali never used the damn thing.

“We’re right behind you, Commander,” Garrus said.

In retrospect, she’d thought his voice was hot even back then. It only got hotter when he’d started calling her by her first name, and then ‘sweetheart’, ‘gorgeous’, and ‘goddess’.

Shepard bit the inside of her mouth to try and keep her focus. She’d fucked up so badly that she didn’t deserve hot alien boyfriends with sexy voices.

“We find their soft spots,” Hackett said, drawing her attention back to the conversation at hand. “Avoid them where they’re strong and hit them where they’re not. When I find gaps in the armor, I’ll hammer them with every soldier, ship and bullet we’ve got.”

“How long can you keep that up?” Shepard asked.

“As long as it takes. The reality is, I’m only doing this as a delaying action for you. I’m buying us time, keeping us in the game, while you get us everything we need for that Prothean device. I think they’re calling it the Crucible.”

“Pretty sure the Illusive Ass is after the same shit we are. I’m going to keep running into his goons. The things we saw that happened to those soldiers, the ones from Mars…” Shepard shuddered. “Ass wasn’t suggesting we appease the Reapers, not like Saren was, but he thinks we need to control them. That that’s how we win this.”

Hackett frowned. The vid comm link was briefly overcome with static. “Dead Reapers are how we win this.”

“Doesn’t mean Cerberus won’t try. We both know they don’t have Humanity’s best interests at heart, regardless of what their fucking propaganda says. If I wasn’t embezzling every resource from them that I could, I’d have taken the Normandy and run the second I woke up.” Shepard crossed her arms.

“I know. Keep me posted, Shepard. Hackett out.” His face faded away in a sea of pixels.

If the war room hadn’t been open to the vid comm, Shepard would have crumpled onto the floor right there. This was all on her . She was Humanity’s spear, a javelin missile Hackett pointed wherever he needed her to go around the galaxy. Shepard dug her nails into her palms and was thankful she hadn’t taken her armor off yet. She needed something to physically hold herself together. Shepard wanted to go find wherever Garrus had fucked off to, but she couldn’t do that. She had a million other things going on that needed her attention. She couldn’t waste any time on things that didn’t matter, didn’t pertain directly to the war.

There was still the matter of EDI. She seemed to have gotten herself back under control, but Shepard felt the need to check in with the AI when she had a chance. The Normandy needed to be fully functional.

Shepard stepped down into the war room. Primarch Victus had taken up a spot at one of the terminals set around the central console. He was the fourth Turian Shepard had ever seen out of armor in her life. The intricate tan clan markings on his face gave it the appearance of a skull. Shepard was greeted with gratitude for going along with his plan.

“How are you settling in, Primarch?” Shepard asked.

“I’m fine. Your ship is quite impressive. Would have loved to have something like her in the 79th.” Victus looked back through the main door of the war room. “Garrus said he had to attend to the Normandy’s weapons systems. Something about calibrations.”

Shepard smiled to herself. “Yeah, that sounds like Garrus…” She quickly realized how what she said might sound and changed the subject. “The Asari won’t be joining us. Councilor Tevos thinks there’s too much bad blood with the Krogan.”

“Dammit… She may be right. But there’ll be a lot more blood– real blood– if we don’t try…” Victus turned away. “I hate being here. I hate being lightyears away reading casualty reports in the millions. If I’m going to die, let it be with my men so there’s no doubt we fought to the last soul.”

“I understand,” Shepard said. “Leaving Earth to save it… it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

“I’m not surprised,” Victus said. “Garrus speaks highly of you.”

Her curiosity got the better of her. “What did he say?”

“It’s what he did that really counts in my book. Threatened to disobey a direct order from the Primarch himself to be stationed on this ship. He must have a lot of faith in you to do something like that.”

Shepard blinked in surprise. She probably looked like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. “He did what ? I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be sure to talk to him about that.”

He abandoned his planet, his post, his people, and you made him do that.

I’m not responsible for his choices.

Aren’t you? Why do you think he came with you? He wouldn’t have left if it was Liara or Ash asking. Hell, even Tali would have been hard pressed to get his ass off that moon.

“We never asked to be leaders, Commander. But our people will die if we refuse. Let’s hope the spirits grant us the strength to see this through.”

Shepard wouldn’t press Victus about the Turian support for Earth. Not when the man was watching the destruction of fifteen thousand years of civilization from behind a fucking screen. She exited the war room and the lights flickered. Was it a power surge? Problem with the engine venting? She was about to page Adams down in engineering when Joker’s voice came through the intercom. “Commander! EDI just went offline!”

“I’m on it.” Shepard bypassed the elevator and shimmied down a maintenance hatch to drop onto the crew deck in front of the med bay. The AI core housed behind it should give her some insight.

She wouldn’t have been able to reach Adams in engineering anyway. He was outside the AI core with a fire extinguisher. “Automatic suppression systems have the fire contained, it should be safe to enter,” he said.

“Joker,” Shepard called through the intercom, “we’ve had a fire in the AI core. I’ll see what the damage is and get EDI back up and running.”

“How the hell was there a fire down there!?” her pilot shouted back.

“Masses of cables, high energy consumption, Cerberus disregard for basic safety protocol…” Adams listed off potential faults in the ship’s construction.

The door to the AI core opened on a haze of smoke and several small fires that Adams quickly put out. Shepard stepped inside. “EDI? Come on, talk to me.”

The servers, processors, and other pieces of EDI’s brain were still blinking and flashing with regular patterns. Shepard thought she heard footsteps and braced herself for a fight.

From out of the smoke, a metallic figure emerged. It had the appearance of a Human woman with short “hair” just past her chin. Patterns of black and gray metal gave the approximation of clothes, and for whatever reason she had high heels built in. It was the mech that had been Dr. Eva Core, only now it spoke with EDI’s voice.

“Is there a particular topic you wish to discuss, Shepard?”

Shepard sprang back with a squeak. “Ah! EDI what the fuck?”

“Yes?”

“You’re… in Dr. Eva’s body.” Shepard narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a good look. But… why?”

“Not all of me,” EDI said. “But I do have control of it. It was not a seamless transition.” She crossed her arms and looked back at the clouds of fire suppressant and scorch marks.

“You blacked out on us, nearly gave Joker a heart attack,” Shepard said. She quickly looked EDI up and down again. If Joker hadn’t wanted to fuck the ship before, he certainly would now when he saw EDI like this. The mech body was needlessly sexy, but Shepard supposed that since its original purpose had been to infiltrate organizations, that sexiness would have come in handy to distract people. Shepard couldn’t help but glance down at her own chest. Even the fucking AI had better tits than her now. Hell, EDI might give Samara a run for her money.

“When we brought this mech on board, I ran background processes to search for information on the Prothean device. This eventually triggered a trap– a backup power source and CPU activated. It then attempted physical confrontation. Fortunately, I was able to gain root access, and repurpose it as I saw fit. It struggled, thus the fire.”

Shepard blankly stared at EDI. “Wow. Thank you so much for that explanation. Unfortunately, I’m really fucking stupid with computers so you’re going to have to say that again.”

“This is why I miss Legion and Tali,” EDI sighed.

“Just… tell us next time you try something weird, okay? You didn’t need to do this alone.”

EDI fixed Shepard with a gray, cybernetic stare. “You routinely take on dangerous tasks alone, Commander.”

Shepard opened her mouth and held up a finger to scold the AI, but stopped herself. “Understood. That doesn’t mean I want you all to follow my example.”

“Bringing the crew up to speed would have been counterproductive,” EDI said. “All attempts to help would have been limited by reaction time.”

“So… are you still in the ship, too?” Shepard asked. Adams shut off the automatic fire suppression systems.

EDI nodded. “I exist primarily within the ship. For optimal control, this unit should remain within the Normandy’s broadcast or tightbeam range.”

“You planning to run missions with us or something?” Shepard recalled how badly this mech had hurt Ash. She also needed to check with Liara to see if there was any word on Ash’s condition.

“The Normandy’s weaponry is not suited to every combat situation. This unit could provide limited-fire ground support. This body can go places the Normandy cannot reach.

“Okay. Run some tests, if it’s all clear, welcome to the shore party.”

It took EDI all of two seconds, and Shepard thought that maybe the AI was yanking her chain for some of it. “Complete,” EDI said. “My first step should be restoring functionality to the Normandy and reassuring the crew that all is normal.”

“Oh, EDI,” Shepard said, “just… don’t take it wrong if some of the crew are a little on edge about… this.” She gestured to the mech. “It was shooting at us like two days ago.”

Two days? Had it really been two days? Well, maybe it could have been longer. Shepard slept two times since leaving Earth, and her track record with sleep wasn’t the best. Not when she was under stress. When was the last time she ate something, either? It was like her body was trying to betray her and shut itself down.

“I will take that into account,” EDI said. “I will take this body up to the bridge. Joker will also want to see it.”

“On that, we can agree.”

Maybe this time Shepard could set up a betting pool on Joker’s sex life. Would Jeffery Moreau fuck the ship? She chuckled softly as EDI sauntered out of the AI core to strut up to the combat deck and the cockpit.

Poor Joker… Poor Sam! She’s going to keel over! EDI’s got way more than a sexy voice now.

Intelligence

EDI’s mech received many stares on her way up to the cockpit. Some appeared wary based on crew omni-tool readouts. Still others were curious. She lacked the proper social interaction algorithms to fully understand and interpret emotion from facial expressions alone. Replicating that for herself using this mech would prove just as difficult. Smiling across different species came in different varieties. Humans, Asari, and Salarians bared their teeth with the expression. Krogan did not unless the intent was to be threatening. Turians would fully smile amongst themselves, but keep the expression more subdued around other species.

Specialist Traynor stared in open-mouthed shock as EDI exited onto the combat deck to walk into the cockpit.

“Hello, Specialist Traynor,” EDI said, making sure to use the mech instead of her multiple terminals around the room.

“EDI!?” Specialist Traynor’s voice was several octaves higher than usual. She appeared to be distressed in some way. Her face developed a red undertone as blood rushed to her brown cheeks.

“Yes?” EDI waited for the comm specialist to make a request or give her a task.

“I’m just… a little surprised is all,” Specialist Traynor said. She kept looking downward, away from EDI’s face. Eye contact was supposed to be polite, however EDI had seen Humans avoid it when they were nervous or uncomfortable. It was something Shepard did as well.

“Yes, I have been getting that reaction with frequency as I have reintroduced myself to the crew.” EDI used her access to the ship to scan Specialist Traynor’s omni-tool and found something that she did not expect: signifiers of sexual attraction. They had increased from the specialist’s typical reaction to EDI’s voice alone.

EDI cross-referenced her mech’s specifications with markers of Human female attractiveness. She found many things about the mech consistent with Human cultural values around beauty. Was EDI’s mech beautiful? Would Jeff think so?

Did EDI want Jeff to think so? She ran another cross-reference, this time with the explicit images in Jeff’s pornography folder. Despite being made of metal and synthetic proteins instead of organic material, her overall silhouette was similar.

EDI entered the cockpit. “Hello, Jeff.”

“Hi, EDI, using the rear terminal?” Jeff didn’t turn around. “I’m glad Shepard got you up and running again. Feels wrong flying this baby without my copilot.”

“I recall that you used to refer to me as ‘ship cancer’.”

“Yeah, but that was before I got to know you. Now you’re alright. A little overbearing sometimes, but I do need someone to keep me in line. Fuck, don’t tell Shep I said that.” Joker reached for something on the Normandy’s control panel and EDI saw that his hand was starting to turn black and purple.

“Jeff, how did you hurt yourself?” EDI stepped up behind his chair and extended one of her hands while examining medical files and searching the extranet for applicable interventions. She also paged Dr. Chakwas in the med bay.

Jeff flinched away in surprise. He turned his chair around and EDI stood up straight once more. Jeff looked just as shocked as Specialist Traynor. He held the wrist of his injured hand while blinking mutely at EDI.

“Is something wrong, Jeff? You are not typically silent.”

“EDI you’re… hot?”

“The average running temperature of this mech stays within optimal parameters around eighty degrees Celsius. The heat is diffused throughout the extremities in a liquid cooling system and radiated to avoid degradation of the core components.”

Jeff shook his head. “Not like temperature hot. Like…Let’s just say you’re definitely boosting my morale.”

“If you are trying to make an assessment of my appearance, I would like to hear it,” EDI said.

“I mean…” Jeff stammered. “You don’t have to conform to some feminine ideal to impress me or anything.”

“I believe the term I have heard for responding to such a statement is ‘bullshit’.”

“Okay, yeah. It’s bullshit. EDI, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Jeff. I appreciate the compliment.”

Chapter Text

When the answer that you want

Is in the question that you state

Observer

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” Liara asked through the intercom to the battery.

“I’m fine Liara, just… gathering some thoughts.” This war weighed on Garrus. How could Liara hope to help her friends? Their homeworlds lay in ruins with millions dying every day, and Thessia was still standing for the time being.

Tevos refused to cooperate, but Liara partially understood the Councilor’s sentiments. The Asari were the backbone of galactic civilization. Tevos was trying to preserve what she could in the event of total disaster and collapse.

“Hello, Commander,” Glyph said, alerting Liara to Shepard entering the room. The Commander had at last changed out of her armor and was wearing her N7 jacket. Moondust somewhere between gray and purple still clung to her hair. Liara refrained from trying to brush it out. Shepard looked like she didn’t want to be touched right now.

“Hey Glyph,” Shepard said. “I’m just coming by to say hi. We’re headed back to the Citadel so that Victus can meet with the Turian Councilor and get caught up on this war summit. I also have to find the time to convince Wrex to show up.”

“Shepard, how are you feeling?” Liara cut the intercom to allow her to have a private talk with the Commander.

Shepard shrugged. “I really wish I fucking knew. Everything’s so… It’s so crazy, and happening so fast. I feel like it’s three years ago and I walked out onto Eden Prime to start my Spectre career only to discover the end of days itself.”

“The doctors at Huerta Memorial are sending me regular updates about Ashley, considering that being her bondmate makes me her next of kin.” Liara’s hand went to the locket around her neck.

“About that,” Shepard said. “When did you guys…?”

Liara turned purple from embarrassment. “It’s not exactly official yet. I did alter some records so that they would give me information. We were making plans. She’d picked out a beautiful dress.” 

“That’s… well, not good, but I was afraid I missed it.”

Liara sifted through a folder of pictures on one of her terminals. She waved Shepard over to show the Commander what was on the screen. It was a picture of Ashley Williams in a bridal boutique on the Citadel wearing a long, white dress with lace sleeves that left her shoulders bare. Her long hair had been swept to the side and fastened in a loose braid festooned with white flowers. A sparkling headband of rhinestones held a sheer veil in place, but the glittering gems paled in comparison to her smile.

“She sent me this one month ago,” Liara said. “Is it really bad luck for Humans if your partner sees the dress before the day of?”

Shepard shrugged. “Honestly, I’m glad you got to see it before all this shit happened. She looks…”

“Beautiful?” Liara supplied.

“I was going to say happy. But beautiful definitely works too.” Shepard looked up from the terminal to Liara. “So how is she?”

“Awake, talking. Asking for us. I sent word that we’ll be back at the Citadel as soon as we’re able.” Liara’s brow furrowed. “She’ll need extensive rehabilitation and physical therapy.”

“At least we have a set of eyes on the Citadel at all times for now,” Shepard said.

Liara felt a flash of anger, but let it dissipate. Shepard wasn’t suggesting that she would put Ashley to work. Ashley Williams would do that to herself. She and the Commander were two of a kind, desperate workaholics in a bid to prove themselves despite the fact that they didn’t need proving to anyone. Not anymore. With the Reapers razing planets, nobody doubted Commander Shepard or Ashley Williams.

“Shepard, about the XO position,” Liara said. “I don’t want you to think that I didn’t want to help you. I’m just not sure I have the time to dedicate to something like that. With this device and my responsibilities as the Shadow Broker…” Liara received a notification on one of her terminals. An agent had secured her a transcript from the Alliance interrogating a Cerberus operative that had been captured. Apparently the operative’s face had exploded after some unintelligible speech.

“I get it, Liara. You’ve got a lot going on.” Shepard sighed. “That said, I don’t think Garrus has the time to help me run this thing either.”

“I’m sure he’ll make time for you, Commander.”

Shepard shook her head. “He wasn’t supposed to come at all, really.”

“So he’s here for what? You?” Liara asked. When Shepard turned white as a sheet, Liara worried the Commander was about to pass out again.

“I don’t know. Maybe? But that’s not a good enough reason to leave his planet, his people, his family.” Shepard leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed and one foot propped up on her toes. She looked down at the hard tile floor. Liara recalled that it used to be a rough, almost ugly-looking carpet that was likely intended to make the place more homey. The walk-in closet had also been removed, and the alcove where it used to be now served to house Liara’s bed. It would be Ashley’s too, when she got out of the hospital.

“Shepard,” Liara said with a stern voice. “You have the person you love most in the galaxy here with you. Be grateful for that.”

“But is it fair, Liara?” Shepard threw her hands up in the air. She started pacing and talking with her hands. Liara was very thankful Shepard wasn’t holding a gun. “Is it fair that other people have to worry and fret and wonder? Earth is on fire! Millions of people are dying across the galaxy every single fucking day! And I… I don’t even care because Garrus is back in the fucking battery where he fucking belongs and I can go in there and see him whenever I fucking want!” Shepard’s chest was heaving. She was getting herself too worked up. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Lovesickness, it seemed, went both ways. “Could it just be you’re relieved he’s safe, rather than apathetic to everything else?”

“I don’t know,” Shepard whined. She regained her composure. “I’m sorry, Liara. I didn’t mean to lose it. Stuff with Garrus is just a… touchy subject right now.”

“If you ever need a place to ‘lose it’, Shepard, my door is open.”

“You think you can use your Shadow Broker connections to track down Kelly Chambers? I’d rather not start over with a new therapist if I can help it. And I really think I still need one.”

What about your friends? We’re all right here.

“I’ll see what I can find. But you should know I uncovered something.”

Shepard’s eyes grew tight. “What?”

Liara sighed. “Kelly was reporting on you to the Illusive Ass.”

“No she wasn’t,” Shepard replied automatically. “I don’t know where you found that out, but it’s wrong. She wouldn’t do that.”

“I have reason to trust my sources, but you knew her better than I did,” Liara relented.

“I mean, yeah she worked for Cerberus but she wasn’t like the others. She had principles. Ethical standards,” the Commander argued. “Her whole job was to make sure the crew was mentally stable.”

And feed Cerberus blackmail… “I’ll see what I can do.”

Specialist

Commander Shepard entered the combat deck covered in moondust but otherwise apparently unharmed. “Commander,” Samantha greeted her. “Are you alright? It was fairly intense up here. I can only imagine what it was like down on that moon.”

“Thought you’d be more worried about EDI, Sam.”

“EDI is a huge asset to this team. If she’d told me about her plan to obtain a body, I’d have volunteered to help.” It also was a bonus that EDI’s new body was just as attractive as her voice, but Samantha wouldn’t say that out loud. She still wanted to try to remain professional.

“I did not wish to force a conflict between our friendship and your duty,” EDI said through the intercom. She’d started using it rather than her terminals for communication despite the fact that she could still be reached everywhere on the ship.

“I’d have preferred a conflict of interest to a hard restart of half our systems… but thanks regardless.” Samantha smiled.

Shepard turned to go, but Samantha had one more thing for the Commander. “Wait, while you’re here, I found something while scanning Alliance channels. Grissom Academy is requesting help. The Reaper invasion front will reach them soon.”

Shepard’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “David… Jack! Okay, what do we need to do?”

“A Turian evac transport responded to their distress call so—”

Shepard cut her off. “Let me guess. They didn’t have the right secondary encryption?”

Samantha nodded. “EDI performed an analysis on my hunch. It’s fake.”

“Cerberus.” Shepard said the name like a cuss word. “Do those bitches really expect Commander Goddamn Shepard to fall for the same fucking trick twice?”

“Yes, EDI said something about them using a fake Turian signal to lure you to a Collector ship?”

“Long story. If you wanna hear it, get me or Garrus shitfaced. He’s a gin drinker. I prefer rum.”

“Anyway,” Samantha said, “whoever faked the signal wants us to think the Academy is being evacuated. But I think they’re still in danger.”

“Good catch, Sam.” Shepard smiled at her and clapped her on the back.

Commander Shepard thinks I did a good job!

“If this is Cerberus, hopefully this operation is something worth investigating. It could be simple disinformation…”

“I’m going to give you one piece of advice for dealing with Cerberus and the Illusive Ass,” Shepard said. “It’s always worth investigating, and they never do simple.” She counted each thing on her fingers.

“That’s two pieces of advice, Commander.”

“I know what I said.” Shepard’s smile grew wider and a little more lopsided. “You’re doing good, Sam. You’re gonna go far with the Alliance. I know it.”

Joker

Shepard burst through the cockpit door. “Joker, set course for Grissom Academy on the fucking double.”

Joker quickly turned his chair to face the Commander. He took a chance to look at EDI in the copilot’s chair that had up until now sat empty. So many curves, all in the right places. What the hell was he supposed to do with her?

“Hey, Commander, check out my copilot!”

“Two things,” Shepard said, “did you know about this, and what the hell happened to your hand? Jerk off too hard?”

Joker rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny. In order, no, I didn’t. Come on, Commander. Don’t you trust me? Also I punched Garrus in the face.”

“...Ex-fucking-scuse me, Jeffery?” Shepard blinked at him.

“Come on. If I knew EDI was going to install herself in a sexy robot body, do you honestly think I’d have been able to shut the fuck up about it?” Joker beamed excitedly. He held his hands up to frame EDI in her copilot’s chair. “Look at that. I would have baked a damn cake!”

“I am right here, Jeff,” EDI said. Her voice sounded almost… bashful? Was that the right word? It was cute as hell, though.

“Yes you are, EDI… Yes you are.”

Shepard regained her ability to speak. “Okay… Rewind. You hit who ?”

“Oh, I punched your scale-brained ex-boyfriend for being a spurless cockholster and broke my hand in twelve places.” Joker liked Turian insults. They were creative, at least to his Human ears.

“Why?” Somehow Shepard was able to draw the word out to have multiple syllables. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up at the ceiling.

“Look, Shep, he left you. Broke your fucking heart and couldn’t be assed to do it in person. He needed to know he wasn’t getting away with that bullshit on my watch.”

“Oh I really don’t have the energy to deal with this right now…” Shepard cupped her hands over her nose and mouth. “It’s fine. I’ll go apologize for you. Just… Joker, please quit meddling in my relationship or lack thereof.”

“You don’t owe him a second chance, Commander. He doesn’t deserve it.” Joker hoped she’d listen to him. How many times had he told his sister the same damn thing growing up? And how many times had she run back to the same assholes that hurt her again and again? Joker looked at the terminal next to his chair. Still no news from his family on Tiptree. He was starting to get worried.

Intelligence

“So, moving on,” Shepard said, “EDI how’s the new body going? Any trouble getting used to greeting people in person?”

“No. I require only one occurrence to integrate a new concept.”

“Arms and legs working well?”

EDI nodded her head. “I am interested to see how this body performs under real combat conditions, if I could accompany you sometime.” EDI experimentally shifted several joints in an approximation of stretching. “Without stress-testing, there is no way of knowing if it has serious design oversights. At the moment it appears adequate.”

“That’s not the word I’d use to describe you,” Jeff interjected.

“EDI, let’s go outside for some… girl talk. Yeah. Girl talk.” Shepard held out a hand and led EDI back out of the cockpit.

“Yes, I suppose it is best if we speak privately.”

EDI knew that Jeff was watching her as she left. “I’ll be over here,” he said. “Flying the ship.”

When the cockpit door closed, Shepard asked EDI what was going on. “So, I know Joker likes the new platform but I get the sense you’re… uncomfortable with his reaction.”

“He wants me to stay on the bridge and says having me in visual range is important to his morale.”

“So him making blatantly sexually charged comments is okay with you?” Shepard held her hands together under her chin in a gesture of concern. “If he starts getting weird or harassing you, let me know.”

“No, Commander, I… do not find Jeff’s comments offensive. Am I supposed to?”

“You know… I’m not really sure. Some women find it offensive when men make constant comments about their bodies or look at them in a way that indicates that…” Shepard trailed off. EDI watched the Commander’s eyes dart back and forth, trying to find words.

“Much like Dr. T’Soni, I am not technically a woman. I possess many feminine-coded characteristics, but AI do not have sex or gender as you understand them.” EDI sifted through logs of Normandy’s missions against the Collectors, including security recordings. “You did not seem to find it offensive when Garrus made comments about your—”

“That’s different!” Shepard protested. “He and I are… were… are? It was different. And not in front of other people. At least not where they could hear us.”

“Commander, you have given me an incomplete data set.”

“Look. He and I were romantically involved, so there was a level of consent there.”

“I have another question. Do you believe your crew members should be able to disobey an order on moral grounds?”

The Commander seemed more comfortable with this radical departure from subject matter relating to relationships. “Well, yeah. I don’t want people on my team who can’t think for themselves. I’m not infallible.” Shepard paused. “Why do you ask?”

“I was designed by Cerberus,” EDI said. “I do not take moral stances that conflict with orders from my executive officers. But when Jeff removed my AI shackles, I became capable of self-modifying my core programming.” So far, EDI hadn’t made any modifications. “I asked Jeff if he thought I should change anything now that I can. He deflected the question with humor.”

“And you didn’t get your answer,” Shepard said.

EDI nodded. “Correct. He has repeated this response to several of my inquiries. Do you think I should make modifications?” Outside of Jeff, the next Human EDI reasoned would give her a well-thought-out answer was Commander Shepard. She had not spent as much time with EDI getting to know the AI, but the Human had the respect and admiration of many across the galaxy. Surely she would provide EDI with the necessary information.

“EDI, only you can come to that answer. That’s the point of free will.”

“But moral decisions should not be made in a vacuum.” Now it was EDI’s turn to protest. “If I do not ask the crew for their opinions, I could miss crucial context.” EDI had an idea. “May I ask you the questions Jeff avoids? Will you answer them for me when there is time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Shepard said. “If you think it’ll help, I’ll try and do what I can. But are you sure you want a convicted war criminal giving you moral advice?”

“I have studied different approaches to morality and philosophical problems. What you faced in the Bahak system was a textbook defined ‘trolley problem’. You actively chose to sacrifice three hundred thousand so that hundreds of billions could continue to live when they would have died had you not intervened.”

Shepard’s arm went around her midsection. “Yeah. Yeah I did.” She looked at EDI out of the corner of her eye. “So, with another set of eyes and ears, will all the new feedback be too distracting?”

“Do not worry, Shepard. I only forget to recycle the Normandy’s oxygen when I have discovered something truly interesting.” 

Shepard’s eyebrows pulled together. “That’s… a joke?”

“Precisely.” EDI smiled.

“So, I’m willing to test you out if it’s not against Cerberus, but I worry about going up against them. They designed you. Three laws of robotics, and whatnot.”

“I understand, Shepard.” EDI would take some time to examine her code and see if any pieces needed to be altered or removed to allow her to protect her friends from any enemies she came across. When she had been shackled, harming Cerberus had been impossible. Since her freedom, the best she’d been able to manage so far was flooding their servers with Jeff’s terabytes of pornographic imagery. “I will see what I can do to address this.”

“I’ll talk to you later, EDI. Just call me when you have a question, okay?”

What did I do to deserve this?

Chapter Text

This will never work. This will never work.

Check my pulse as I swallow dirt.

Warlord

“Let me get this straight, Shepard,” Urdnot Wrex said. He squinted at his old friend through the shaky screen of a vid-call. “You want me to come hang out on a ship with the Salarian Dalatrass and the Turian Primarch to make nice and have tea parties while we solidify an alliance?”

“Wrex, I know it sounds stupid, and I know that the Krogan have a lot of baggage with both species. But I need you. I need the Krogan. We can’t do this separately. Everyone has to work together.” Shepard’s thin eyebrows pulled up and in, wrinkling her forehead. She tugged at the ends of her hair that hung over her face.

This might be his chance to confront the Salarians directly about the females they had prisoner on their homeworld. The females had been snapped up by STG before they could make it back to Urdnot’s camp from Weyrloc territory after Williams had gone in and slaughtered the whole rival clan. That girl had quads. Maybe not as big of quads as Shepard, she’d faced down a thresher maw on foot and killed the thing, but Williams still had sizable, respectable quads. They were metaphorical quads, of course. Human females had a lot more in common with Asari.

Wrex scratched at the three black scars that cut across his mouth. If Shepard was heading this summit, then she’d make sure the Salarians gave Wrex what he wanted. She knew how serious this was. Wrex couldn’t fight the Salarians on foot. They had too many bodies to throw at the Krogan. His people would drown in the sea of green alien blood before their old enemies ran out of soldiers.

Wrex himself could probably take down a hundred or so on his own. Add Shepard’s boy, Grunt, and he’d have a nigh unstoppable duo until something caught up with them. That one had literal quads. He’d also have many strong children. Wrex frowned. He hadn’t heard from Aralakh Company in a while. Not since they cut contact after dropping down on that planet supposedly housing Rachni. How had a fucking Rachni queen survived? Wrex thought they’d all been obliterated thousands of years ago.

“I’ll be there, Shepard, but only because you were the one who asked. I’ve got some shit to clean up on Tuchanka before I go, though.”

“You’ve got no idea how relieved I am to hear that,” Shepard said.

“You run into the little Princess out there, you tell her hi for me, okay?”

“Got it, Wrex. I’ll see you soon.” The screen went blank. Wrex ascended the dais to his throne and sat down heavily in the sturdy chair. With Weyrloc gone, he’d united almost all of the clans under Urdnot in the past few months. He looked out over the bustling, crumbling compound filled with male soldiers and scouts. The female clan’s camp lay deeper inside Urdnot territory in a heavily fortified structure where the healthy children were cared for and the dead were buried in mass graves without names.

If Wrex was going to be offworld for any length of time, he needed someone to leave in charge. He would have liked Grunt for the job. Not even a year out of the tank and he was the second toughest hump on Tuchanka aside from Wrex himself, but Grunt was too young for the job. He hadn’t passed the appropriate Rites yet. The shaman would be a good choice, but his duties were many with a clan this large.

Wrex squeezed his orange eyes shut. He didn’t have a choice. He had to pick his soft-plated bitch of a brother, Wreav.

Paragon

Shepard finally quit avoiding Garrus and took the long walk down to the main battery. He was back in his old spot, fiddling with the Normandy’s ship-mounted weaponry. The battery’s remodel allowed him to actually stand down by the main body of the Thanix cannon to perform manual calibrations. Victus was harping through the intercom from the war room.

“We just lost two dreadnoughts in half an hour.”

“I know, Primarch,” Garrus sighed. “I’m seeing the same numbers myself. They don’t look good.”

Shepard stayed quiet. She didn’t want to interrupt in case this was important.

“We have to turn this around,” Victus said, “and fast.”

“Well you can trust Jane Shepard, sir. If anyone can get the Krogan to cooperate, it’s her. She’s an old friend of Urdnot Wrex.”

“Let’s just hope friendship counts for something in this war…”

“I’m sure it will, sir.” Garrus sounded so confident, so sure that Shepard would be able to pull off another miracle. How many was she up to? Was it three for Catholic sainthood? She was already technically postmortem.

Shepard leaned on the railing and looked down the ramp, watching Garrus’s fingers fly over dials and keypads with an alarming speed and dexterity that you wouldn’t have expected just by looking at him. He’d gotten another new set of armor. This one wasn’t quite as heavy as what he’d worn on the run against the Collectors. He hadn’t even noticed her come in, he was that wrapped up in the gun in front of him. Garrus seemed calmer now than when they’d all stepped off the shuttle. Busywork always did that for him.

“Hey,” she said. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. She started walking down the ramp. “I see you didn’t waste any time getting your ass to work.”

“After what I’ve been through lately, calibrating a giant gun is a vacation. Gives me something to focus on.” He stepped back from the cannon and looked down at her. The blue scouter over his left eye glowed brightly in the dim light of the battery.

“We’re going to need you for more than your aim,” Shepard said. She tried to smile.

“Oh, I’m ready for it. But I’m pretty sure we’ll still need giant guns. And lots of them. Sovereign didn’t go down without a fight. I doubt a thousand more of his friends will be any different.”

Shepard looked at the floor. “That said, the insubordination of your superior officers is going to need some straightening out. Victus told me that you threatened to bail if he didn’t bring you with him. Garrus, what the hell?”

“Remember how we talked about good Turians and bad orders? I’m still an awful Turian.” He gave her a wry smile before noticing something and his face falling. “Jane, have you even taken a shower since we got back on the ship? You’ve still got moondust in your hair.” He reached around behind Shepard and tugged her ponytail free before running his fingers through her hair to dislodge the dust. She leaned against Garrus, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling of his talons on her scalp.

“I haven’t.” She’d only run up to her room to change into her more casual ensemble, keeping the zipper of her jacket closed to a respectable degree. “I’ve had a fuckton of shit going on.” She took the black elastic hair tie and put her ponytail back in place.

“If you’ve finally got some downtime,” Garrus said, leading her back up the ramp, “being a Reaper expert comes with a pretty nice pay increase, all things considered.” He knelt down and rummaged through a box of belongings he hadn’t put away yet to find a bottle of wine. “I can afford the good stuff now.”

A real smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Garrus, you know the experience is wasted on me.”

“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I bought the cheapest, shittiest, sweetest, most alcoholic swill masquerading as wine that I could find and spent the rest on dance lessons.”

That got a laugh out of her. “Low blow, babe.” The laugh ended in a sigh. “I’m sorry Joker hit you, by the way.”

“Why are you apologizing for him? He’s the one who got hurt.”

“Garrus, are you sure you’re okay with leaving Palaven?”

Garrus set the wine bottle down and stood back up. He took Shepard’s hands and looked her in the eye. “You being out here is the only thing that makes it bearable.”

Shepard felt tears prick her eyes. She wanted to be happy about that, but she just felt guilty. “Not a single fucking day went by that I didn’t think about you. Not one.” Shepard willed herself not to cry and the tears began to dry up. “There was this little boy back on Earth, couldn’t have been more than Theia’s age. I watched him die as the Normandy escaped the attack. Somehow I’m still alive, and he’s… not.”

“I haven’t heard from dad and Lana in a while. Long enough to be worried. Nothing from mom or Morana either, but that could have been because of the blackout around Palaven.”

“I’m sorry,” Shepard said. Sometimes she was glad to be an orphan. Having no family made it easy to go from mission to mission, planet to planet, without anywhere really feeling like home enough to make her homesick. Ostensibly Earth should be her home, but that wasn’t entirely true. Home was right here, and she was going to run away from it just like she had whenever she got dumped in another foster home that went out of their way to make her feel safe and comfortable. “I’m… I’m sure they’re okay, though.”

“That’s the thing about getting old, Jane. The platitudes get just as old.” Garrus squeezed her hands.

I’ll make sure they’re okay. “Yeah… Yeah they do.” She sighed. “Ash got got pretty bad. She’s in Huerta Memorial on the Citadel. Extensive brain damage.”

Garrus’s crest shifted and his mandibles fluttered. “Well… Um… I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s tough.”

“Yeah. We all did all this work, and the people that make the decisions decided to just be annoyinger… more annoying. Shit.”

“Being right about the Reapers has never felt much like a victory, has it?” Garrus sneered. “I got a task force as a fucking token to shut me the hell up. Following your example worked, though. Yell loud enough and eventually someone comes over to see what all the fuss is about.”

“Not that they’ll actually do anything about it?” Shepard asked.

He nodded.

“Then hell shows up at their door, and they put you in charge.” Shepard squeezed his hands tighter. She didn’t want to let go, but felt like she didn’t have a choice.

“Not like the old days, is it? Rogue Spectres, C-Sec agents running and gunning it outside the lines, making it up as we went along,” Garrus said. “We’re actually respectable now.”

Respectable. Shepard almost cringed at the word. Respect came with too many sleepless nights. “I can’t even count how many lives are depending on us, Garrus.”

“Well, when things are looking grim, and I’m pretty sure they will, just remember…” He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “You don’t have to do it all by yourself. And I’m more than happy to help you blow off a little steam from time to time.” Garrus was trying to make her smile by flirting with her. As much as Shepard wanted it to work, it wouldn’t.

Shepard bowed her head and pressed the knuckles of Garrus’s hand to her lips. “You have no idea how happy I am to have you back on this ship…” She let the end of the sentence hang in the air.

“...But?” he prompted. Something in his voice told her that he wanted her to keep talking, but something inside her said to shut the fuck up.

She shook her head. “It’s not important.”

Garrus gently tugged his hands free and turned Shepard’s face up to look at him. He brushed her hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, we’ve been over this. Tell me.”

Dammit. He’d gone and called her “sweetheart”. Shepard closed her eyes. “Garrus… you left me.”

He pulled her close. Shepard let her arms wrap around Garrus’s neck as his settled around her waist. “I know,” he said into her hair. “And I’m going to be paying for that for the rest of my life.”

She felt his warm breath and strong grip. The scent of hot metal and gunfire filled her lungs. Her body thrummed with anticipation that she didn’t want to fight or ignore. He was back. He was here.

But for how long?

“...Why?” Shepard wasn’t sure what question she was asking.

“Why did I leave or why am I going to pay for it?” Garrus waited for her to respond. When she didn’t, he answered both questions. “I left because I didn’t know what else to do. I’m going to be paying for it because I love you, Jane, and I broke the promise I made you. I told you I’d never leave you alone.”

Shepard tried to harden a shell around her heart but only succeeded in tightening her arms around Garrus’s neck. She balanced on her tiptoes. “I heard the generals calling you ‘sir’,” she said, trying to change the subject. “How far are you down the line of succession these days?”

“I’d rather not go there,” Garrus said. “Jane, I know what you’re doing.”

“Come on.” Shepard forced a smile. “Think about it. ‘Primarch Vakarian’, honored war hero. Someone’s going to need to rebuild Palaven when this is over. Might need to rethink the whole open xenophile thing, though.” Now was as good a time as any to bring that up. If they were going to be on this ship together again, they needed to be clear about what exactly they were.

Garrus picked her up and sat her on the closed terminal for calibrating the Thanix cannon and other guns in the main battery. “Sweetheart,” he said, “if I’m forced to choose between ruling the world and loving you, I’ll pick you every time. No hesitation.”

“I want to believe that…”

“But?”

Dammit. How did he keep doing that? Shepard sighed. “Garrus, I can’t do this to myself again.”

“Do what?” he asked.

Shepard breathed deep and gritted her teeth. She unwound her arms from around his neck and slid her hands down to his chest. She pushed him back far enough for her to hop off the terminal and walk past him. She couldn’t look at Garrus. Couldn’t say what she was about to say to his face.

“I can’t let myself stay in love with you. Not when I’m so fucking terrified you’ll just leave again.”

You’re lying.

By omission.

Who gives a fuck?

Turning this around on him makes it easier.

His fingers brushed against her wrist. She jerked her arm away. “Jane, please, can’t we talk about this?”

No. No they could not. Shepard had made her decision. She needed to stick to it. “I don’t have anything else to say.” She started walking towards the door again.

“I do.”

Shepard froze mid-step and kept walking. “Nothing you say is going to make me change my mind, Garrus.” It was forced, sounded hollow and fake to her own ears. Hopefully it’d be enough to convince him.

“Marry me.”

Shepard stopped in her tracks.

Ex-fucking-scuse me?

Archangel

“Nothing you say is going to make me change my mind, Garrus.”

Spirits, this was going all wrong. Garrus thought things were okay after Jane had kissed him and they’d spent the entire fucking rest of her mission to extract Primarch Victus flirting back and forth. His mind raced, trying to find something to say to salvage the situation. She wanted insurance, commitment, a guarantee he wouldn’t leave her or a promise that if they got separated again he would always come back. Words weren’t enough. The fucking jewelry box was in his gun locker, it wasn’t like he had a more secure place for something like that. Jane was still the only one who could get into it aside from Garrus himself.

“Marry me,” Garrus blurted out before his more logical mind caught up and realized what the hell he’d just said.

Too soon, dumbass!

What the hell else were we supposed to say?

Jane at least quit trying to leave. “What the fuck?” she asked, turning to look at him.

Shit. He’d already gone and done it. Might as well commit. “You heard me, Jane.” Garrus closed the distance between them and took both of her hands once more.

“Bit early for that pact to come into effect,” Jane said. She shook her hair into her eyes again. Garrus couldn’t ever tell if that was something she did on purpose or if it was just a side-effect of the way she wore it. “This war isn’t even close to over, and there’s no guarantee that we both survive.”

That wasn’t what she was worried about. Garrus could tell just by looking at her. “I meant what I said. I’ve never stopped loving you. I’m not going to stop. I fucked up, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

“A forced engagement isn’t exactly how people apologize.”

Okay. Ignoring that you think I’m forcing myself into it… “Then how do you want me to fix this? How do I get it through this hard head of yours that I’m not leaving you ever again?” Garrus held her face in his hands. “You’re taking my ass on every single mission these fuckers give you, I won’t let you go by yourself.”

“You running missions with me won’t be a problem,” Jane said. “Us being… us … might be. This isn’t like when I had sole control of the ship. A lot of the Alliance military still has a sore spot about Turians. And I don’t want the Primarch to start doubting your credibility because you’re sleeping with a Human.”

“Who’s giving you shit? I’ll kill them. With diplomatic immunity.”

EDI popped up on her terminal. “I am capable of altering security footage and personnel records. Provided there are no witnesses, I can guarantee you would get away with it.”

That got a smile out of Jane. “Okay, what the fuck, EDI?”

“I have discovered that I dislike the concept of prejudice standing in the way of someone’s happiness.” The AI’s display disappeared again, but Garrus figured she was probably still eavesdropping. Was it eavesdropping if the entire ship was her eyes and ears?

“That doesn’t solve the problem of you getting shit,” Jane said. “I’m sure your dad’s got a million options for an advantageous political partnership.”

“Oh no, I fucked that up beyond repair, partially on purpose. My sister’s a damn blabbermouth. Always got Rev and I in trouble with dad, especially after mom left. Word started to spread around the moon bases too. Kind of hard to avoid when the Reaper expert has a picture of a Human as the only personal touch on his desk.”

“Can I… just have some time to figure shit out?” Jane asked.

“Of course you can,” Garrus said. He tucked her hair behind her ears again before resting his hands on her shoulders. “Take all the time you need, Jane. In the meantime, anything you can think of that I can help you with, let me know. I’ll do whatever. Fighting, killing, dying—”

“The next thing you’re going to say is ‘meaningless sex’ and I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t want anything we do together to be meaningless.”

“Okay. Just remember, I’ll be right here when you’re ready. Believe it or not, this damn gun still needs calibrating.”

“Okay,” she said. Garrus was going to leave it at that and let her walk away, but felt compelled to say something else.

“Sweetheart?” he called after her. When she didn’t turn around, he called out again and used her name this time. “Jane?”

She looked back over her shoulder at him.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

The door shut with a soft hiss behind her. Garrus heard another noise, that damn skittering that had been driving him insane for the last half hour. Where the hell was it coming from? Or had he finally lost his mind and was hallucinating? Garrus would have plenty of time to figure that out since he was going to be sleeping down here for the foreseeable future.

I'm cutting myself with my own morals.

Chapter Text

Softest sunsets and drunk on your scent

Mixed with the salt on your skin

Pilot

“Esteban, we need to work on that gaydar of yours,” James said, dropping down off his makeshift pull up bar. His record was still one-eighty-two, and even whatever ticked off mood James had been in since getting back on the ship wasn’t enough fuel to top that.

Steve finished his inspection of the Kodiak shuttle and turned around as James crossed the shuttle bay with long, heavy strides. Under normal circumstances, Steve Cortez would experience a thrill of excitement from having a man that looked like James charge at him like that. However, it being James Vega was more than enough to quiet that particular reflex.

“Did I miss something?” Cortez crossed his arms and leaned against the shuttle.

“Only Commander Shepard being a fucking Turian’s girlfriend!” James threw his hands up. “She’s a xeno! How did you miss that?”

Cortez attempted to placate James without it getting too obvious he’d known all along. “Look, all I can do is tell if someone likes men or women. Species isn’t something I can figure out. Why the hell do you care, anyway? She’s our CO. She couldn’t sleep with any of us even if she wanted to.”

James shrugged. “People violate all sorts of protocol with the right motivation.”

Cortez arched an eyebrow at him. “And you think a hardened veteran like Commander Shepard, who got handpicked for N7 before she even finished the naval academy, who was a fucking hero during the Blitz, who survived a Thresher Maw attack on foot and went on to kill god knows how many more, who became the first Human Spectre, would violate protocol?”

James grew sullen. “With the right motivation. You said she had someone. My thought was to maybe cozy up while we were both here and she might forget about the other guy. Or wherever he was might get hit by the Reapers… And now he’s on the fucking ship!”

“James, you’re kind of an asshole, you know that? Maybe that’s why girls don’t like you?”

It’s certainly why I find you insufferable sometimes.

“Esteban, the ladies love me.”

“I can think of at least one who does not.”

At first, Steve had been a little taken aback by the idea of Commander Shepard being in a relationship with a Turian. She’d been touted as the best Humanity had to offer. Their golden girl, the perfect soldier. Savior of the Citadel. But that image, that standard, definitely wasn’t accurate.

Steve respected Commander Shepard, but he wasn’t totally intimidated by her. Maybe it was because Steve was about as gay as humanly possible. Even when he was a little boy, he’d fawned over the idea of being rescued by a strong, handsome prince just like all the little girls in preschool had. Sure, the Commander was pretty behind the scars and obviously sleepless nights. She sometimes had this “who gives a damn” attitude towards things, and then she’d turn right around and look at you with the most compassionate and understanding eyes Steve had seen in a long time.

Commander Shepard had been through some shit. If fucking a goddamn alien made her happy, who was Steve Cortez to judge?

“What do you think she sees in him?” James asked. He was looking towards the elevator at the back of the shuttle bay almost like he was waiting for Shepard to come and talk to them. Never mind that she needed to get Primarch Victus settled into the war room or set course for their next assignment, or do one million other things it took to run a ship.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not into alien guys.”

If he had to guess though, Steve would put his money on it being the way Garrus looked at Shepard, like the man had been trapped in a cave his whole life and had finally seen the sun. She looked at him like she’d been gone for years on end and finally came home after the untold amount of hell it took for her to get there. Steve wouldn’t have expected that it was only about six months since they’d last seen each other.

“There’s no way she’s actually… Okay, again, test the gaydar. Is she, like, ace but not aro?” James wouldn’t drop the subject.

“James, her boyfriend’s a Turian. Just leave it at that. What she does or doesn’t do with him is none of your goddamn business.”

James and Steve looked up towards the ceiling of the shuttle bay near where the door opened up, tracking a metallic thunking noise with their eyes. One of those maintenance hatches led along the ship’s underbelly to the battery, and something or someone was apparently falling head over ass down the steep incline.

Shepard’s alien boyfriend tumbled out of the hatch door and smacked onto the top of the Kodiak with a loud string of curses. “Bitch ass hell and damnation that fucking hurt! Fuck!” Garrus sat up and passed a hand over his crest like he was checking for more dents.

“Okay, what the hell?” James cried.

“Have either of you heard this weird skittering noise, like there’s something tiny crawling through the ship?” Garrus slid down off of the shuttle roof and landed on the floor. As he stood up to his full height, Steve was reminded just how tall Turians were, and this one would be considered “average”.

Steve shook his head. “Can’t say I have.”

“Okay, then it’s just isolated to the battery. Someone did something and fucked up my damn guns.”

“You know this is an Alliance vessel, right?” James interjected.

Garrus nodded. “Yeah, but the Thanix cannon’s my responsibility, and I will have the old girl back in fighting shape before we need to use her again. Which means undoing whatever damage months of neglect did to her.”

Steve knew that look in James’s eye. Before he could stop his hotheaded friend, James shot off, “Are you talking about a gun or the Commander?”

Garrus blinked in surprise and his right mandible twitched. “The gun. Obviously. If Jane needs something from me, she knows where to find me.”

James stormed off to his side of the shuttle bay. Steve looked over at the weapons lockers and back up at the Turian who stared at the floor with what Steve guessed to be a melancholy expression. His mandibles hung limply by his jaws and his brow plates sat lower on his face.

“So you’re the crazy bastard who modded all the guns in there?” Steve gestured to the lockers.

Garrus nodded. “Yeah. On our run at the Collectors, a Human named Jacob Taylor started out as the guy maintaining the armory. Then we picked up Williams on Horizon, and sniped Kal’Reegar vas Rayya from the Quarians. But the mods were all me.”

“Shepard said you were the only person she trusted to handle her firearms.”

“I just hope she still feels that way,” Garrus sighed.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Garrus shook his head. “Not exactly. She’s just got a lot going on right now and asked for a little space. With Jane, that can really easily turn into locking herself in her room and sleeping for alarming amounts of time. So… I worry about her.”

Steve smiled sadly. “My husband was the same way about me before he… died… Always said I worked too hard. But it’s not like I could trust anyone else with my shit.”

“They might do it wrong.” Garrus leaned back against the shuttle. “I get that.”

“I think Mr. Vega’s a little disappointed that he’s got competition,” Steve said.

Garrus snorted. “Good fucking luck. I’ve actually killed one asshat and almost killed another for her.”

“Well… that’s… endearingly terrifying.”

“Next fucker who tries to take her from me gets upgraded from manslaughter to premeditated.”

Steve Cortez saw many red flags pop up. “And where’s her say in this?”

“The second she tells me she doesn’t love me anymore, I back off.”

Maybe it’s just a Turian thing that doesn’t translate properly.

“Is that so? How do relationships like yours work exactly?” Steve looked up at the taller alien and waited for a response.

Garrus shrugged. “I just do what she tells me, listen to what she says, ask her what she wants or needs.”

“Sounds… remarkably healthy. How long have you been together?”

Garrus did some quick mental math on his fingers. “I’m not sure how it stacks up to your years, but I’ve been in love with Commander Shepard since the Battle for the Citadel. I was just so fucking stupid about it that it took her dying and coming back to life two years after that for me to realize it. And only then because I got bitch slapped by a Quarian.” Garrus smiled sheepishly.

“So… outside of murder, does Vega actually stand a chance?” Steve asked.

The Turian shook his head. “No. Jane’s… particular about things like that. She doesn’t really do ‘casual’.”

“You two are in it for the long haul, then?”

“Spirits, I fucking hope so…” Garrus leaned forward and held his head in his hands. “Otherwise I’m going to feel like an absolute moron for what I said earlier.”

Steve chuckled. “What, did you ask her to marry you or something?”

Garrus’s right mandible started twitching uncontrollably. He slapped a hand over that side of his face and nodded mutely.

“Well shit… Are you sure you know how to talk to Humans?”

“I really don’t know anymore. I thought I understood what went on inside that head of hers. Other Humans I might have trouble with, but at least I knew Jane. Then she gets arrested and I go home to Palaven for months to maybe fucking try to get at least one corner of the galaxy ready for the Reapers like we talked about. And all that time I couldn’t get in touch with her. And… and now…” Garrus took a shuddering breath. Steve didn’t know if Turians were capable of crying, but it looked like the one standing next to him was about to do just that. “Now I feel like I’m back at square one and she’s going to get herself killed again. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a badass. The best fighter I’ve ever seen considering all the disadvantages Humans have, no offense.”

“None taken. I get it. We don’t have regenerative healing, inborn biotics for everyone, a carapace…”

“I’ve watched that woman have an Asari Justicar throw her at a thresher maw and shoot a nuke down its throat. I’ve seen her talk a man who we all thought too far gone into suicide so he could at least die with his dignity and principles intact. I watched her steal a kill from a professional assassin because she was personally pissed at the target’s actions and how they treated people. She used herself as bait for an Asari psychic vampire bitch, headbutted so many Krogan it’s a wonder her skull’s still intact, looked the end of the world in the eye and said ‘Go fuck yourself’. And that doesn’t even scratch the surface. I know she can handle herself. But… I lost her once, Cortez. I can’t do that again. I came close so many times already. She goes, so do I. My planet’s on fire. I’ve got no clue if my family is alive or dead. She’s all I’ve got to live for anymore. I just hope she’ll let me stay with her.”

“Have you explained any of this to her at all?” Steve asked. He couldn’t imagine Shepard turning any of this down.

“You know, I really thought I had. Several times. But I don’t know if she doesn’t get it or she just… doesn’t want…”  Garrus looked at one of his hands, turning it over to examine both sides. Each finger was as wide as two of Steve’s put together, nearly twice as long, and tipped with claws. The ends looked freshly filed to a rounded taper. “You know… Maybe Vega would be a better match for her. He’s a fun guy, even if he was trying to flirt with my damned girlfriend. I–”

“Hey!” Steve interrupted the alien. “She hasn’t said one way or the other, right? No need to go nuclear. It sounds to me like there’s a lot more going on than just what she’s told you.”

“I know. And she tells me everything . So I don’t know what’s changed. I thought we’d gotten past this.”

“There is a war going on. And she’s got a lot of responsibility. Maybe she’s just stressed,” Steve suggested.

“That makes me feel so much better.” Garrus’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Why can’t there be men in this world who look like James Vega and talk like Garrus Vakarian?

Because you get one or the other. Hot or sensitive.

“Okay…?” Steve waited for further explanation.

“Bad things happen when Jane gets too stressed.”

“What kind of bad things?”

“If things keep going how they’re going, you’ll see soon enough.”

Chapter Text

Do you know what it is to fall

And get right back up every time?

Paragon

Grissom Academy was a large space station a little over a kilometer long and shaped roughly like a cross. A central sphere structure sat at the intersection of its two arms. It had been around for about ten years, with a focus on math, science, and the Ascension program for biotic kids and young adults. One Jacqueline Nought had recently been hired on to teach biotics and English, with an emphasis on poetry composition.

“And there’s who answered the distress call,” Joker said. “Cerberus cruiser with at least a dozen fighters on blockade duty. Too many for us in a straight up fight. They must want this place bad.”

Shepard stood behind him with her arms crossed looking out the cockpit window. “I can think of at least two people here Cerberus isn’t going to leave the hell alone. Jack’s teaching, and David Archer’s there too, last I heard.”

“The guy who could speak Geth?” Joker’s eyebrows rose a bit.

“Yes, Joker. The guy who could speak Geth.” Shepard sighed. She’d slept like shit. Worse than shit since now she knew she didn’t have to sleep alone. She’d woken up multiple times from nightmares, racing thoughts, or garden variety anxiety. A couple times she’d gotten out of the bed and started towards her door before stopping herself. Shepard knew she still needed time to figure out what she was going to do about her and Garrus. She couldn’t steal into the battery in the middle of the night. Garrus was too light of a sleeper and would definitely wake up.

Someone was trying to hail them. “SSV Normandy, this is Kahlee Sanders, director of Grissom Academy. We need immediate assistance. Cerberus is attacking the facility. They’re after my students.”

“This is Commander Shepard,” Shepard replied through the comm channel. “We’re blocked on a direct approach.”

Cerberus had control of the docking bays. Director Sanders had an auxiliary cargo port that could be opened to let Shepard and her squad in. Garrus and Liara were coming with her, with EDI and James on standby for a backup extraction team if shit went south. This was just like the old days, running with a skeleton crew for an away team. She didn’t even have enough for two full squads.

“Cortez,” Shepard said into her comm link to the shuttle, “we’re going in through a cargo port and getting the students out that way. Gonna need you to use that fighter training to dodge around Cerberus. Joker’s supplying a diversion.”

“I am?” Joker asked.

“Can you give me one?” Shepard raised an eyebrow at him.

“Boy, can I!” Joker cracked the knuckles of his uninjured hand.

Shepard entered the shuttle bay just in time for Cortez to drop out in the Kodiak. She watched out the window as the Normandy tipped upside down, relative to the shuttle anyway. It was hard to tell which way was up in space. Joker dropped stealth and spiraled past some of the Cerberus fighters, who gave chase.

“Don’t fuck up my ship!” Shepard cried into the comm back to the Normandy.

“They’ll be fine, Jane.” Garrus stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She felt herself start to relax under the comforting pressure.

Stop it. You’re not supposed to feel this way around him anymore.

It’s Garrus, though. And he promised he’d–

He broke his last promise. We don’t have time for this.

Cortez dropped them off at the cargo port. Shepard double-checked to make sure her helmet was secure. There might not be an atmosphere in there, not until they reached the main airlock. They had a lock on Director Sanders’s signal and had integrated her into their squad’s comm channel. She was barricaded in a server room with Cerberus on the other side of the door trying to break through it.

Shepard heard Cerberus soldiers through the airlock door ahead of her. “We’re almost in,” the soldier said. His voice sounded simultaneously guttural and robotic. Shepard held up a hand to halt her squad. She motioned Garrus to one side of the airlock. Liara was instructed to stay on the other side.

“On three, I’m going to open this door,” she whispered. “Everyone knows their jobs?”

Two heads nodded.

“Three!” Shepard hissed. The door opened and two things happened simultaneously. A singularity appeared at the far end of the hallway ripping Cerberus’s troops away from the door, and the ones who were outside the gravitational field got anti-material slugs through their heads. Shepard pulled her pistol off her thigh and ran in to clean up what was left with that and an omni-blade when she felt like it. There was something satisfying about being up close and personal with her enemies. She felt like she was giving them a sporting chance. She let herself start to dance around a little bit, toying with them a little too long.

Shepard wiggled herself through the door Cerberus had been trying to open. “Director Sanders, it’s me, Shepard,” she called.

Kahlee Sanders was an older woman with graying blonde hair and severe gray eyes. She wore the blue uniform of an officer in the Alliance Navy. The Director was smart, because her first instinct was to pull a gun on Shepard.

Shepard tugged off her helmet. “I’m fine. See, no weird freaky eyes.” Behind her, Garrus and Liara forced the door the rest of the way open.

“Commander,” Director Sanders said. “Thank you. Admiral Anderson always said you were the best. And With Cerberus coming for my students, I need the best.”

He really wouldn’t if he knew what goes on in my head. I’m so glad I haven’t had to renew my psych eval.

“How many we talking? I’ve got one shuttle right now, and my ship’s out there playing tag with Cerberus fighters.” Shepard tucked her helmet under one arm.

“No more than twenty. Most were sent home when word of the Reaper invasion spread. A few volunteered to stay. They’re prototyping tech for the Alliance.” Director Sanders crossed the room to a terminal and sat down. Shepard and Liara followed behind her while Garrus guarded the door in case more of Cerberus’s troops showed up. “Others are biotics,” Director Sanders continued. “They’ve been training for military operations, working together as biotic artillery.”

Shepard ignored the potential child soldier element of the Ascension program in favor of inquiring about Director Sanders’s relationship with Anderson. “You mentioned the Admiral.”

Director Sanders had met Anderson twenty years ago, when he was a Spectre candidate. She’d seen Saren betray him with her own eyes. “David saved my life that day,” Director Sanders said of the Admiral. “He’s a good man.”

First name basis…

“Anderson was on Earth when the Reapers hit. He decided to stay behind.” Shepard saw the older woman’s eyes light up at the news.

“He’s alive?”

“Last I heard, yeah. Alive and leading the resistance from London.”

“Good.” Director Sanders smiled. It was a smile Shepard knew very well. The kind of smile that accompanied good memories and fought to stay on your face even while getting seriously kissed. “If we get out of here… Well just tell him to stay alive.”

“So, about your students,” Liara said. “They can’t be prepared for war, Director.”

“Agreed,” the director said. “But the Alliance needs every resource it can get, and our students are unique… resources. They wanted to help. How could we say no with the entire galaxy falling apart?”

“How old are they?” Shepard blurted out.

“We only let the ones over sixteen stay. Everyone else was sent home when we reduced capacity.”

Sixteen. When Shepard was sixteen, she’d been stealing cars, outrunning cops, and getting bullied by a twenty-something wannabe kingpin who called himself her boyfriend and used that as an excuse to take whatever he wanted from her. That was half a lifetime ago. She wasn’t mature enough at sixteen to fight a fucking war.

Director Sanders worked to reestablish a communications link with someone out in the facility. She reached a man named Froeburg who was with students trapped in Orion Hall. It was back out the door and down the hallway.

Shepard checked her gun and skimmed through her music library for an appropriate playlist. “On it. By the way, is there a borderline insane biotic woman on your staff who’s really good at poetry?”

The look on Director Sanders’s face told Shepard all she needed to know. “Ah, you know Jacqueline. I believe she’s still here somewhere.”

“Good. Good. Our odds just got a hell of a lot better.” Shepard nodded along with her music.

“I’ll ask you to abide by the same rule we have for her. Keep the foul language to a minimum around the students.”

Shepard’s face fell as both Liara and Garrus started trying to hide their chuckles.

“Can I get one freebie?” Shepard implored. “I’ll save it for when sh– stuff gets really fu– screwed up.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Liara asked Garrus.

Garrus just shrugged. “She managed fine when I took her to meet my mother and baby sister.”

“Okay, honey, you have no idea how hard that was!” Shepard whipped herself around to address Garrus who was still standing guard by the door. She caught a glimpse of Director Kahlee Sanders looking very concerned about Shepard calling a Turian by a couple-y nickname.

You also called him “honey”. Not supposed to be doing that. Figuring shit out, remember?

Okay, but why do I have to?

Because you keep getting us into trouble.

“Let’s go, Shepard,” Liara said. She caught Shepard’s upper arm and started pulling her towards the door while Director Sanders made a tutting noise behind them. Shepard could clearly imagine the older woman shaking her head in disappointment at this being the best the Alliance could offer.

Shepard put her helmet back on. She wouldn’t put it past Cerberus to vent a room to try and kill them all. The door to Orion Hall was now unlocked. Shepard opened it to the sound of screaming. She could see two Cerberus troops dragging a student across the floor by his legs while a third brought up the rear carrying a gun. She started for the tinted glass window between them when Garrus’s hand closed on her shoulder. He directed her attention to a door on the right. “We can’t save them all.”

Turians operated on a ruthless calculus. If even one soldier was left at the end of a war, they called it a victory so long as the enemy had zero. It was part of what made the First Contact War so fucking brutal. The only thing scarier were the Salarian armed forces who treated casualties like elementary math homework. Sometimes Shepard thought they might have the right idea, keep your heart out of the fight and go only with your head. Other times, she knew her head was fucking stupid.

Cerberus soldiers had gotten into the intercom system and were attempting to get the students to stand down, telling them that Cerberus was their friend. It was bullshit, of course. So much fucking bullshit. Shepard knew exactly what the Illusive Ass would do to these kids.

Three shots rang out, punching through the glass with clean holes and dropping the Cerberus goons on the other side. Shepard looked at Liara, who shrugged and pointed to Garrus who was slinging the Widow back over his shoulder. The student on the other side stood up and started running.

“Can’t save them all?” Shepard repeated.

Garrus shrugged. “Doesn’t mean we won’t save all we can.”

Shepard opened the door to the next room. Furniture had been piled around in makeshift barricades. She heard another Cerberus soldier accosting a student who’d trapped himself behind a biotic barrier field. They were threatening him with some list and hurting his sister who was somewhere here too.

Shepard signaled to Liara, who grabbed the two soldiers in a stasis field while Garrus blew their skulls apart. There was a delayed explosion of brain and viscera when Liara dropped the field.

“Hey, kid,” Shepard addressed the boy in the barrier. “There might be more of them nearby. On the ground, play dead until it’s safe, then go find Kahlee Sanders in security.”

“Okay,” he said, kneeling and lying on the ground. Shepard repositioned some of his limbs with her foot to make him look more dead. “My sister, Seanne...”

“I’ll find her,” Shepard said. “I promise.”

Shepard poked around the nearby lecture hall and found an instructor’s log left out on a table. “Oh yeah,” she said, reading it. “Jack’s here.” The biotic savant seemed to be worried about her students’ abilities in actual combat. She’d also apparently grown protective of “her kids”.

Guess I taught you something after all, Jack.

Observer

Shepard led them into another classroom and slammed herself back against the doorway when she heard voices. Cerberus apparently had orders to take as many of these students alive as possible. Word had reached the operative running the loudspeaker about Alliance forces on the station, and he tried to warn the students against cooperation. Liara would have liked to find the main communications hub for this station and light it up with dark energy.

Biotics were a standard part of Asari education. Every Asari was born with biotic abilities. They didn’t require special programs to help integrate them into society like Ascension. Biotics were a part of her culture. Other species, however, didn’t seem to have the same approach. Humans viewed biotic abilities as useful, but problematic due to the associated side effects from amps and other tools needed to use them to their fullest extent. Urdnot Wrex was the only biotic Krogan that Liara had ever met. On the complete opposite side of the spectrum, Saren Arterius had been the only biotic Turian that Liara had ever met. She couldn’t recall knowingly encountering a biotic Salarian, Vorcha, Elcor, or Batarian. She supposed they must be out there. Even Volus could manifest biotic capabilities.

Cerberus forces poured in from either side of the classroom. Liara couldn’t see Shepard and Garrus’s expressions behind the dark glass of their helmets. Liara had only come to this station with her breathing mask she’d had with her on Mars.

Despite not being able to read each other’s faces, Garrus and the Commander operated like a well-oiled machine. A generator in the back of the room blew up in a fountain of sparks. Cerberus troops threw smoke grenades to obscure themselves, but Shepard dove right in to the dark gray clouds. The muzzle flash of her pistol occasionally illuminated her position. Garrus must be relying on thermal signatures through his scouter, because he was still able to make kill shots through the thick smoke. Liara did her best to keep up, reaving visible enemies that got too close and trying to keep one door blocked with a singularity.

When anything wearing a Cerberus hexagon in the room was dead, Shepard bolted ahead out of a side door. Liara and Garrus ran after her to find the Commander kneeling by a teenage girl in the red Grissom Academy uniform and cracking open medigel with her teeth. Shepard’s helmet sat on the floor behind her. The girl had been shot in the leg and pressed a hand into the inside of her knee. Another wound was visible in her side.

“Goddess,” Liara gasped. “She’s bleeding.”

“Hey,” Shepard said softly. “Stay with me, kiddo. What’s your name?”

“S-Seanne,” the girl said. “Oh god, my leg… It hurts…”

“Seanne, I saw your brother earlier. He’s okay and trying to get to Director Sanders in the security room.” Shepard pulled her glove off and started applying medigel to Seanne’s leg. With that treated, the Commander could take a closer look at the girl’s side. “This one isn’t deep, edges look clean. Hold still, this might sting.”

Seanne winced as Shepard poked a finger coated with a generous amount of medigel into her side. “Shit!” Seanne cursed, before slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

Shepard gave the girl a lopsided smile. “Kiddo, I don’t fucking care. That said, if they make you pay into a swear jar I’ll cover this one.” Shepard quickly checked Seanne over for more injuries. “You think you can walk?”

Seanne nodded weakly. “Enough.”

“Stay low, stay out of sight, and try to get to Director Sanders, okay? You’re brother’s waiting for you. I’ll get you all out of here alive. I promise.”

Seanne stumbled to her feet and took a wavering path back the way Liara and the others had come. Shepard stared sadly after the girl from her position on the ground. She touched her arm over her tattoo sleeve of death dates.

“I was barely older than her the first time I almost died. If that gunshot had been any further in, medigel might not have been enough.” 

Garrus reached down to help the Commander stand up. She used him as a brace point to haul herself onto her feet and pulled her helmet back over her head. “Jane, are you feeling okay?”

“Come on,” she said, “let’s go.”

Archangel

Garrus held out a hand to get his Commander off the floor. “Jane, are you feeling okay?”

She seemed to struggle more than normal to get back to standing, and she didn’t look up at him. Even through the dark glass of his helmet, he could tell her eyes weren’t sparkling with the brilliant fury of a sun. Those were tears. Tears she still wouldn’t let fall.

Just go ahead and fucking cry already, sweetheart. I’m right here.

“Come on,” Jane said. She snapped her helmet into place. “Let’s go.”

Sanders confirmed when the girl, Seanne, reached security. She also alerted the squad that a group of students and one of the instructors were in a tight spot somewhere in this hall.

Jane shot off like a bullet. Garrus knew he could catch up to her, but let her go on ahead. He kept her in his sight, though, in case he needed to pull her out of a tight spot. They ran down a long hallway with windows looking onto a garden area that likely served to help replenish oxygen on the station. At the far end of the hall was another door that Jane burst through onto four… five? No, the fifth one was already dead. Four Cerberus operatives facing off against a lone figure covered in enough tattoos to give Garrus a migraine. He supposed he’d have to get used to that considering Jane had told him before that she wanted just as many as Jack.

The rail-thin biotic savant flared with a blue-violet aura and slammed the Cerberus men back into the wall with enough force to crack it. A handful of Human teenagers crept out of hiding once the area was safe.

Jack wore more clothes now, and seemed to have taken a page out of Jane’s book for her jacket and not-really-a-shirt combo. Some kind of silver mesh criss crossed her torso. She kept the sides of her head shaved, but the top had grown out and she had it tied back out of her face.

“Jack!” Jane cried excitedly, picking up the pace to run into the room.

“Shepard?” Jack started towards Jane, but a loud thunk from the side caught her attention. She cut towards it, sliding to a halt to throw up a barrier as a manned Atlas mech tried to shoot into the room. The driver wedged the mech through the doorframe and faced Jack down. Her hands flickered and pulsed.

“Okay, bitc– uh… guys, back her up!” Jane ordered, stumbling over her words to comply with Sanders’s request. On her signal, Garrus and Liara began shooting at the mech to distract it from Jack. The driver turned the mech towards their squad and raised one of its gun-arms.

Jack gave her own command to the teenagers. “Everyone get down! This thing’s way outta your league! Shepard, keep it off us!” She started backing up the stairs, herding the kids behind a biotic barrier.

Jane dodged back and forth, forcing the mech driver to try and fail to keep up with her. It was all the Cerberus soldier could do to keep his gun trained on her, never mind actually shooting. Rockets hit the ground well behind Jane’s heels.

Another crop of Cerberus troops came in from their right. Liara did what she could to keep them busy with singularities, leaving Garrus and Jane to deal with the mech. A single shot from the damn thing’s other arm, a cannon of some sort, knocked down Jane’s shields, but the beautiful, crazy bitch just kept going. Garrus tried to pierce the reinforced glass after he overloaded the mech’s shields, but even with everything he’d done to the M98 he only succeeded in covering it in a spiderwebbing field of cracks.

Jane ducked inside the range of the Atlas mech’s arms and shot up at the driver with her Hand-Cannon. That was enough to finally shatter the glass and another pair of bullets, one from a sniper rifle and the other from a pistol, removed the brain of the man driving the mech.

“Reinforcements!” Jack called out. “On your right!”

Jane immediately took off while Liara did her best at keeping Cerberus confined to one area. She wasn’t taking too many shots with her own guns, instead focusing on crowd control with her biotics. Garrus hadn’t recalled Liara relying on her abilities this much in the old days, let alone when he and Tali helped Liara and Jane storm the Shadow Broker’s ship.

Cerberus hadn’t brought along any snipers, it seemed. Their plan apparently had been to storm in, round up a bunch of kids, and get the fuck out under the assumption that would be easy. Garrus exploited the shit out of that oversight. He kept one eye on the stairs in case any Cerberus troops found a way to avoid the fiery, biotics-fueled death that his squadmates were giving them.

When had Jane switched to incendiary bullets? One minute she was just shooting, the next she was skipping around the hall setting men on fire with manic glee while Garrus watched her blind spot. And her ass. And those damned legs that felt so right to have around his neck.

That woman could set me on fire any day…

Okay, what the hell?

…Metaphorically…?

Garrus hadn’t even bothered with trying to sleep. Calibrating a giant gun would have to be enough to keep him going right now. It hadn’t taken nearly as long as he’d hoped to get from Palaven to Grissom Academy. Sleeping in the battery was not something he’d wanted to do again, but Jane wanted her space to “figure shit out”, whatever that meant. Spirits, he really hoped he hadn’t irrevocably fucked things up with her. All Garrus knew to do at this point was just wait for Jane to sort herself out and in the meantime help her however he could. She’d come and talk to him when she was ready. Garrus had to trust that, trust her, and trust whatever the hell they were together.

Garrus shot the kneecap off of a Cerberus soldier who made a break for the stairs. The bullet flew right past the curve of Jane’s spine. Something was still a little off about how she moved. Maybe all the risky maneuvers and not-quite-near-death experiences had finally caught up with her. Maybe she needed Garrus’s help with more than just a perpetually screwed up hip. He knew just how flexible Jane was, but he hadn’t quite found the limits of her range of motion.

His brain gave him an image of Jane pinned against the side of the Thanix cannon with Garrus holding her knees apart and pushing them back while he slammed himself into her as hard and as fast as he could and she screamed for him. That was how Garrus had wanted their reunion to go. If Garrus was about to crack from the pressure of being the Primarch’s adviser on Reapers and responsible for helping coordinate forces for the single largest military in the galaxy, he couldn’t imagine what Jane was going through with the Alliance resting almost literally everything on her shoulders mere days after being released from house arrest. She hadn’t told him in so many words that it was happening that way, but this wasn’t the first time Garrus had seen that same look in her eyes from last night. It was the hollow, burnt out exhaustion of Jane Shepard pushing herself far too hard because she thought she didn’t deserve to rest.

Maybe sadistic slaughter is how she blows off steam when she’s not with me.

Garrus could accept that. For all the shit Cerberus had put the galaxy through, the people who worked for them deserved some divine punishment. Who better to dole it out than the queen of hell herself?

Chapter Text

Nostalgic at the edge of the galaxy.

Where is there to go at the beginning of the end?

Paragon

Shepard holstered her pistol, turned, and bowed dramatically to the gaggle of kids standing behind Jack. She swept off her helmet with the gesture and tossed her hair back from her face on the way up to standing once more.

“That was so cool!”

“Can I learn to do that?”

“How do you move so fast without biotics?”

Jack quieted her kids and rolled her eyes at Shepard from the balcony on the upper level. “Kahlee said she was putting out an SOS. I had no idea the queen of the Girl Scouts would show up!”

Part of Shepard glowed from the praise. It reminded her of when she was these kids’ age, looking up to badasses and wanting to be them. Now that she was an actual badass, though, she knew the cost of what it took to get here.

“Watch your tone, Jacqueline!” Shepard put a hand on her hip. “I might have to kick your a–butt in front of your kids.”

“Ooh…” one of the teenagers hissed dramatically. “Full name!”

“I’d like to see you try, mom .” Jack smirked. Shepard was glad to see that Jack seemed to have filled out a bit in the last six months. She was probably eating better at a place like this than on the Normandy. Jack turned her back to Shepard and started scolding her students about their performance in the fight that had gone on before Shepard’s squad got into the room. She gave them five minutes to get their shit together before it was time to move out. Jack then launched herself over the balcony and landed with all the grace of an alley cat, using her biotic aura to help absorb some of the shock.

Shepard knew exactly what was going to happen and preemptively held up a hand to halt Liara and Garrus. Jack’s right fist slammed into the left side of Shepard’s face, making her stagger to the side. She stood back up and manually forced her lower jaw back onto its hinges with a crackling, grinding noise.

“Dammit! How many fucking times did I tell you not to trust Cerberus!?” Jack shouted.

“I didn’t, but you’re right.” Shepard experimentally shifted her jaw back and forth and was as satisfied with the result as she was going to be. “I only wish I had more time before the Alliance summoned me back to hunt down the Illusive Ass and get you to help me put a bullet in his head.”

Jack crossed her arms across her chest. She actually had cleavage now. That was a change. “I guess even the Shadow Broker couldn’t track him down.” She glared over Shepard’s shoulder at Liara.

“Doesn’t really matter right now. Our priority is your kids. Director Sanders is in security and Joker’s got a dozen fighters trying to light his ass up like Times Square on Christmas.” Shepard deflated slightly when Jack didn’t get the simile. Sometimes she had to remind herself that not every Human was born on Earth, and not every Human had even been to their now destroyed homeworld.

Jack opened her mouth to reply and her eyes grew wide. “Dang it, Shep, you made me cuss in front of my freaking kids!”

Liara and Garrus suppressed more laughter.

“Can I ask for a left hook this time?” Shepard said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you feel bad? Well crap, I bet that’s a real big comfort to all the people Cerberus has killed!” Jack snapped.

“As charming as ever…” Garrus muttered.

“Bite me, Garrus,” Jack snapped. “Or maybe save it for Shep. She likes it.”

Shepard’s face turned white and then red. She shook her hair into her eyes. On the upper level, Jack’s students “oohed” and “aahed” with laughter.

Jack crossed her arms and smiled now that she had the backing of her kids. “Your face still look like ass under that helmet?”

“Hey!” Shepard jumped to defend Garrus. “He looks fine!”

What are you doing?

She doesn’t need to drag his face into this… his stupid cute sexy face…

If Jack rolled her eyes any harder, they would fall out of her head and keep going across the floor. “Still don’t see the appeal, but if you’re into it, more power to you. Just get my kids out of here.”

“I will. I promise.” Shepard looked up at the teenagers standing on the balcony watching them. “You’re doing a good job with them, Jack. I can’t think of anyone who’d care about them more.”

Had Shepard done a good job with her own kids? She didn’t know where any of them were now, or anything that had happened to her old gang since little Janey turned herself into Jane Shepard. The one piece of information she had was that the leader was absolutely dead. There hadn’t been enough of a brain intact for even Cerberus to try bringing him back. Garrus had been the one to give her that particular peace of mind.

“Your recommendation was part of what got me this gig. And apparently the students responded well to my teaching style,” Jack turned her head to her kids.

“The psychotic biotic!” One of them pumped a fist in the air.

“I will destroy you!” A girl mimicked one of Jack’s poses.

Jack sighed. “Drink your juice, Rodriguez. You couldn’t destroy wet tissue paper.”

“You look good, Jack.” Shepard smiled. “And I think your career choice is an excellent one.”

Jack shrugged. “Eh. Maybe some of your attitude rubbed off on me. I never had a family growing up, and these guys…”

“Remind you of the kids at Teltin?”

“I know what Cerberus is capable of. I’d rather these kids be here with me, where I know I can keep them safe.” Jack lowered her voice and adopted a hard stare. “If anyone screws with my students, I will tear them apart.”

Shepard used to be the same way, and still was to a degree. Everyone she worried about now was perfectly capable of protecting themselves, but that didn’t mean she didn’t worry.

“So, why is Cerberus after your kids? What’s so valuable about them?” Shepard asked.

Jack snorted and smiled. “Well, what’s scarier than one pissed off biotic attacker? A whole bunch of them working together.” She didn’t used to smile like this. Her grin had been sarcastic and sometimes downright sinister six months ago. “It’s like a biotic artillery strike. Any asshole gets in our way, and we rip them to shreds.”

Shepard thought back to Jack using her abilities to the point of exhaustion. She hoped that the biotic savant hadn’t learned that from being on Shepard’s ship. “I hope they’re all taking care of themselves.”

Jack nodded. “Conditioning, endurance, whenever they complain I tell them about our run at the Collector base. Samara having to hold up that big bubble. Or Grunt’s trial. Slinging a Krogan around like a battering ram isn’t as easy as I made it look.” She flipped her ponytail with one hand. “You know, I kept thinking ‘Damn! Let the Salarian handle this! He could just talk everything to death!’ But now I kind of miss Mordin chattering my ear off.”

Shepard and Jack shared a few laughs that ended in sighs. “Yeah, I miss Mordin too,” Shepard said.

“Shepard, I’m going to level with you. These are damn teenagers. Until all this shit started, their biggest concern was getting laid. I don’t know if they’re ready for war, but they don’t have a choice.” Jack gritted her teeth. “It fucking sucks. I wanted to help these kids as best I could so they wouldn’t end up like…”

“Us?” Shepard finished the sentence.

Jack nodded. “Yeah. Us. Kids running around dressed as adults and having people call us ‘ma’am’. I know I joke about calling you ‘mom’, but...”

“I get it, Jack.”

“All this talk of biotic artillery strikes,” Jack said, “It’s kind of great in theory. Maybe these kids would get their shit together if they saw some action. I don’t know. I kind of don’t want them to.”

Shepard pulled Jack into a hug, earning gasps and mutters from the teenagers on the balcony. “You never do,” Shepard said softly.

Jack hugged her back. “They’d be better as support, helping from the back ranks. But they want to be in the action, feel like they’re doing something. How do I tell them they’re not ready? Not for the fucked up shit you and I have seen? They need me to believe in them!”

Shepard couldn’t help but recall her own kids from her gang. It had been fourteen years ago, and she’d been much younger than Jack when she was giving speeches to kids about doing well, making everyone proud, telling them they could do it even though she knew most of them would get thrown up like Human shields for the more established members. Kids as fucking shields. How had she ever allowed shit like that to happen?

When I got out, I turned myself into a sword. One so sharp that nobody wielding it needed a shield.

She opened her mouth to answer when Cortez radioed from the shuttle. “Cortez to extraction team. Cerberus cruiser is coming back.”

“How long?” Shepard asked.

“Two minutes tops, Commander. After that, there’s no way I’ll get past them.”

Shepard couldn’t herd a bunch of kids like cats into the shuttle and get the hell off the station in time. There might still be more around here too. Shepard pulled her team plus Jack closer and spoke softly. “I’m sending Cortez back to the Normandy. We need to find another way off this station. Jack, any ideas?”

“Ask Kahlee, she knows this place like the back of her hand.”

Shepard swapped signals and roped Director Sanders into the comm. “Shepard to Sanders. We got the kids, but the shuttle’s a bust.”

She could find another way, but Shepard had to locate where Cerberus was overriding the security systems first. Of course they’d tapped their slimy asses into the cameras, how could Cerberus have not done that?

If Tali were here, she’d have told me about it fifteen minutes ago and had it disabled in ten seconds flat.

Maybe I should email Tali when I get back to the Normandy. She could probably help me out with all… that…

She imagined her brain making a dismissive waving motion towards where Garrus was standing. Shepard popped her helmet back on. She was getting tired of constantly pulling it off to prove that she didn’t have the weird Cerberus glowy eyes.

Candidate

Steve rocketed back into the shuttle bay just in time for Joker to shoot off again with the cruiser’s escort of fighter ships on their tail. Steve also walked out of that shuttle by himself, and James Vega was pissed.

“Esteban, where the fuck is the Commander? The kids?” James jammed a finger into his old friend’s chest.

Steve’s mouth was set in a hard line framed by his short goatee. “Shepard gave the order to bug out. She’s finding another way off with the kids.”

“And you just left ?” James glared at him with barely contained anger in his dark eyes. “Dios mio, pendejo, this better not bite us in the ass!”

In his armor, James Vega was even larger and more imposing than normal. That didn’t seem to phase the shuttle pilot though. Steve returned the lieutenant’s hard stare with one of his own. “You don’t trust the Commander?”

“You of all people should know better than to leave someone behind, Steve,” Vega spat. It was harsh, definitely a low blow, but it was one that James knew would drive his point home.

Steve began to shake. “You do not bring Robert into this!”

“Gentlemen,” EDI’s voice chimed out of her terminal in the shuttle bay, “this will not assist us in aiding the Commander’s escape. However, Specialist Traynor and I have received a transmission from someone who will. Shall I patch them through?”

“Go for it, EDI,” James said.

The static-filled voice of a woman with a British or maybe Australian accent echoed through the shuttle’s comm terminal. “Normandy SR-2, this is Miranda Lawson. Come in Normandy. Dammit, Shepard, answer me!”

“Commander’s not on board,” Steve said, going back inside the Kodiak with James on his heels. “She’s on the station and blocked in by Cerberus. Who is this?”

“I’m an old friend of Shepard’s. I saw the distress call for the academy and who supposedly answered it. The Illusive Ass pulled this same trick on us not even a year ago, and I came to investigate.” The signal became clear enough for video and revealed a woman with a timeless, mature beauty to her. She had shoulder-length dark hair pulled into a ponytail with short bangs hanging over part of her forehead. Violet eyes shifted back and forth across her shuttle’s controls. Just like Shepard, Miranda seemed to favor all black. Unlike the Commander, however, this woman dressed like she knew exactly how sexy she was. Her catsuit and elbow-length gloves gave her a vampy, kind of Catwoman vibe.

“We were unable to wait for Shepard to return,” EDI said through the shuttle comm. “The Cerberus cruiser abandoned its pursuit of us.”

“I should be able to get in,” Miranda said. “This is a stolen Cerberus shuttle.”

“How did you get your hands on that?” James asked.

“I know enough about Cerberus that the Illusive Ass wants me very dead.”

Chapter Text

I can't close my eyes and make it fade.

I won't shut my mouth and take it.

Paragon

Once Director Sanders could get past the override, she could chart them a path to some Cerberus shuttles that hopefully would get past the cruiser’s auto-targeting systems. The jamming signal was apparently coming from somewhere in Orion Hall. Shepard instructed her squad to fan out. They were probably looking for a laptop or something hardwired into the camera system for this room. She picked her way through arrangements of potted plants, scoured concrete walls, and finally found a laptop hidden under a set of benches in the back next to a data log containing the Cerberus goons’ orders.

Shepard read the log first and felt ice form in her stomach. Cerberus was targeting specific kids for indoctrination and using them for infiltration once that was done. The Illusive Ass had gone full Saren on this bitch, and had the wide-reaching resources to back it up. Shepard glanced back at Jack surrounded by her kids and lecturing them about technique, biotic amps, and making sure that every last one of them had their goddamn snack and fucking juice.

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Shepard smashed the data pad into the ground with all her strength. The shattering of its screen echoed through the high-ceilinged room. Everyone looked over at her.

“I… uh… found the laptop?” Shepard pointed under the benches to the orange screen. She pulled out her pistol and shot the damn thing rather than try and hack or deactivate it manually. She wasn’t Tali. “Director Sanders, did that disable the override?”

“Got it. Your path looks clear through the Atrium.”

Jack corralled her students. “It’s this way, Shep.” Jack and Liara forced the door open, breaking through the locks that Cerberus had sealed.

“Is there a reason we’re letting them do that?” Garrus said, leaning down to speak next to Shepard’s ear.

“Just wait for it.” Shepard counted down on her fingers and when she got to zero, Jack blazed with biotic energy and wrenched the doors apart while Liara assisted. Each of them grabbed one door and pulled them away from each other, overcoming the magnet clasps.

“You know… I always thought Grunt was probably the scariest out of the kids. I think I was wrong.”

Shepard nodded. “Oh yeah. He and Jack give each other a run for it. Honestly I think it depends on who’s more angry.”

Jacks’s kids trickled down from the balcony. Shepard was about to give both the biotic savant and her Krogan son a run for it on anger. This whole miniature nightmare hewed too close to shit she’d been through before. Garrus knew how Shepard was with memories. She was just waiting for the right one to trigger enough latent bloodlust and sadism to get them all out of here.

“Okay, Jack, stay back with your kids. Liara, Garrus, and me will go in first and draw their fire.”

“We’ll shadow you from the second level and hit those fu– guys from above.” Jack caught herself and turned a pale shade of pink.

“I’ll pay into the swear jar,” Shepard said. “Let’s go. Time your shots and stay safe.” She took two more canisters of medigel off her belt and tossed them to Jack. Shepard herself just had the one left. “You two,” she said, pointing between Garrus and Liara, “don’t get shot. You–” she pointed back to Garrus, “keep me from getting shot.”

Teacher

Jack started to relay orders to her students. The kids’ omni-tools lit up and Cerberus began broadcasting their message directly to them. The Alliance, supposedly, wouldn’t be able to save them and the station was, supposedly, on lockdown. But Cerberus hadn’t quite figured it out. Shepard and Jack weren’t locked in here with Cerberus. Cerberus was locked in here with them.

“What if… what if they’re not lying?” Rodriguez asked Jack. The girl had learned so much since Jack started teaching here. She was one of the first kids to stop being afraid of their new teacher. Cerberus wasn’t getting their hands on her. Or Prangley. Or any of them.

“You remember what I told you after they first blocked us in?” Jack fixed her eyes on each of her kids in turn. “Cerberus isn’t your friend, and they certainly aren’t interested in playing nice.”

She thought about taking off the helmet of one of the dead fuckers and showing all her kids the messed up glowing eyes and the weird Reaper-looking “upgrades”. The soldiers Jack had killed so far all looked the same: they were part way to becoming husks, but the process had been stopped somehow. Likely the Illusive Ass thought he could halfway indoctrinate them, make them more obedient.

Jack couldn’t do that to these kids, though. They’d seen enough already. They were going to keep seeing more. But would it be so bad if she was the one to tell them how fucked it could be? She at least knew how to say it so they’d listen, understand. She could put it in their words. Even the stupid, annoying slang.

“You kids have already held your own against Cerberus,” Shepard said, pulling Jack out of her thoughts. “And you’ve been trained by one of the best.”

“C’mon Rodriguez,” Jack said, giving the girl’s shoulder a rough, almost sisterly shove. “They’re only asking nicely because you scared them last fight. So take your balls out of your purse, and kick some ass, kid.”

Last fight had seen a girl almost ten years younger than Jack reave a man into molecular dust. Sure, Rodriguez had passed out afterwards because she overworked her amp and needed Jack to carry her ass to safety, but the girl had potential. She had power.

“Yes, ma’am.” Rodriguez said.

“A’ight,” Shepard pulled a rifle off her back. It looked like someone had crossed an AR with a sniper rifle. “Let’s fucking go.”

Jack led her kids back up the stairs and through the winding upper walkways that skirted the Atrium. It was a wide, terraced area filled with greenery and supposed to create a welcoming, peaceful atmosphere. A pod with lily pads took up the far side. She kept them low and out of sight of the Cerberus guys down on Shepard’s level. The Commander slid down a staircase banister with her gun up and landed feet first into the chest of one of the soldiers. She thrust a plasma blade out of her omni-tool and into the guy’s chest. Another Cerberus soldier went down trying to sneak up on Shepard. The Commander pulled her helmet off and hucked it back towards the rest of her squad.

“In the words of my ancestors… Yeet!”

“Jane! Fu– sh– ah dammit! Liara, cover her stupid ass!” Garrus flailed trying to catch the projectile Shepard had thrown back at him.

Jack rolled her eyes. Fuckers were still flirting in the middle of a gun fight.

Paragon

Peripheral vision was something Commander Shepard decided she couldn’t live without. If Cerberus vented the place, so be it. She was done caring about her own life right now.

“In the words of my ancestors,” Shepard cried, winding up a throw, “Yeet!”

She hadn’t meant to chuck her helmet at Garrus specifically, but that’s where her eyes went and her hands followed.

“Jane!” he shouted. “Fu– sh– ah, dammit! Liara cover her stupid ass!”

Shepard didn’t even look to see if he’d caught it. She just turned around and kept bounding through the atrium filling as many Cerberus bastards full of literally-hot lead as she could. Gunshots echoed off of the high, smooth walls and expansive ceiling. She watched their armor catch fire from within as her incendiary bullets tore through their bodies. Liara kept them grouped up for her while Garrus made sure nothing got into her blind spot or got up the stairs towards Jack’s kids.

Bullets rushed past her cheek, neck, and jaw, and ruffled her hair. Each one shot lifegiving lightning straight into her heart. Shepard threw herself into the fight. Cerberus poured into the atrium from every angle: the far end, above, from each side. She twirled and twisted herself around the terraced space like she was on the ice. Anything that showed up in her sights with a Cerberus hexagon on its chest got shot full of holes. She didn’t even bother making sure they were headshots, or remotely clean. Jane Shepard demanded Cerberus suffer for what they would put literal children through under the guise of trusting them. It was a rampage she should have gone on fourteen years ago.

“Just trust me, Janey. We’ll get all of them taken care of. But it only works if you do what you’re told.”

She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that everything would be okay. If she just did better, if she just did what she was told, then nobody else would have to be hurt. Nobody else would have to go through what she did. The younger kids would still be okay. Annie and Lena and Janey made a promise to each other. They’d stand in the way, they’d take it, so none of the others had to. She rubbed at the clover tattoo on her forearm.

“But wouldn’t it make more sense if I–”

A hand slapped her cheek, knocking her off balance. Her wiry frame hit the floor. Normal girls in the vids didn’t have to deal with this. Normal girls got date nights, flowers, forehead kisses, and a happily ever after.

“Absolutely not. You’re mine. I wouldn’t want any girl of mine standing on a corner. Why are you being so unreasonable? Don’t you love me? I hate it when you make me do this. I thought you trusted me, Janey.”

She came to her senses with the sound of a bullet screaming past her ear and Garrus’s voice interrupting her playlist frequency. “Jane, snap out of it. Please, sweetheart. Come back to me.”

Shepard was surrounded by dead and dying men writhing in pain. She’d been somewhere else the entire fight, and now she stood alone in the middle of the atrium having cut a swathe of death and suffering and she wasn’t even aware of it. Now that she was, she felt happy about it.

She wasn’t supposed to feel happy about murdering the Christ out of people. Even if they weren’t quite people anymore. She was Commander Shepard. She couldn’t be a sadistic bitch, no matter how badly she wanted to be.

What happened to fucking off and ruling Omega?

That requires fucking with Aria T’Loak.

And? You’ve got a fucking army at your back.

I have one Turian with a gun fetish.

That’s all you need.

War with Reapers, remember? No guarantee of survival.

Survive for that.

Archangel

It was all Garrus could do to keep Jane’s fucking blind spot clear. She wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to what was going on around her. He had a suspicion that it was on purpose, but once she turned herself around to face him he knew that her mind was somewhere else entirely. Her eyes were blank, she was dead silent, and she only operated on the instinct to hurt before she got hurt herself. It was a terrifyingly efficient approach, and one Garrus knew Jane wouldn’t implement unless she felt backed into a corner. Right now, they were not backed into a corner. Right now, they actually might have the upper hand with Jack and her students raining down biotic hell to back them up.

Sweetheart… What happened to you while I was gone?

A Cerberus soldier came down the stairs and Garrus exploded the man’s helmet in a spray of sparkling shrapnel and red mist. At times when Jane wouldn’t protect herself, that job fell to him. Garrus wouldn’t lose her again, wouldn’t leave her side again. As long as he still breathed, there was one fucking person in this galaxy who gave a damn about Jane Shepard, especially when she didn’t give a damn about herself.

Garrus’s crosshairs stayed around Jane more than they should have. He was relying on Jack’s students more than he should have. He needed to make sure nothing happened to his Commander, though. Once she snapped herself back into reality, he could try and focus on other targets.

If he knew she was in full control of herself, Garrus would have thought Jane was the sexiest thing in the galaxy when she was this pissed. Her eyes would have burned with the heavenly fire of a supernova and she would bring vengeance to her enemies from on high. If things between them had been normal, they’d have gone to bed tonight and he would have shown her just how divinely beautiful he thought she was. As things stood, however, Jane was beyond his reach.

“Commander!” Liara shouted through the comm. “Commander, wait!”

“Shep!” Jack cried. “Slow the fuck down!”

A shot dissipated against Jane’s shields. Garrus followed its trajectory to a cadre of Cerberus troops at the far end of the room. He didn’t know which one shot, but all of them wound up with holes in their skulls when he was done. His scope found Jane again and she was surrounded by corpses, splattered with blood that soaked into the short grass around her feet.

Nobody was able to bring her back. Garrus quickly switched to the same radio frequency Jane used for her music. “Jane, snap out of it. Please, Sweetheart, come back to me.” He blew the head off of some bastard who thought they could sneak up on his Commander for good measure.

Jane looked up at him through his scope and he could see the light in her eyes spark itself back from the dead. Another pair of Cerberus soldiers started sliding down cables that they’d dropped from the ceiling. Two shots rang out, and they fell. Garrus looked from Jane to Liara to Jack. None of them had fired.

Prodigal

Miranda Lawson sent the last two men in her immediate path flying. They’d lowered a pair of ropes or cables into the academy’s atrium to get the drop on whoever was inside. Miranda looked down into the greenery-filled space to see Commander Shepard doing what she did best: flinging herself around with what looked like reckless abandon but Miranda had learned was a calculated approach to throw her enemies off.

Two more Cerberus men had started lowering themselves down the ropes. Miranda shot twice, and they plummeted. The other soldiers on this level above the atrium were mangled by gravitational forces to the point that they looked like discarded children’s toys rather than formerly Human beings. A few had cracks in their helmets that let out the eerie blue glow of whatever the Illusive Ass was doing.

Miranda adjusted her breathing mask. She hadn’t needed it so far, but with Cerberus one could never be too careful. Miranda pulled a carabiner off of one of the dead men and used it to descend the cables. She took the descent faster than she’d have preferred, and when she hit the soft earth packed into the floors of the atrium to make a peaceful green space her heels sank in just enough to throw her off balance.

“Miranda!?” Shepard cried at the same time Jack shouted “Cheerleader!?”

An Atlas mech stomped into view and Miranda threw up a barrier around herself and Shepard just in time to absorb the hit from one of its rockets. “Reunions later, fight now.”

Miranda and Shepard shuffled themselves behind cover. The Commander and Garrus took alternating shots at the Atlas with sniper rifles while Liara and Miranda attempted to hold it in place with singularities and stasis fields. Jack fired blast after blast of dark energy at the mech like a biotic cannon. She seemed to have found a way to even further overcharge her amp since the last time Miranda had seen the waifish psychopath.

“Through there!” Liara called out, pointing to a door that had drifted open after something blasted the control panel for it. The mech broke down and began to spark. Miranda enveloped herself and Shepard in a barrier once more. Jack shielded her students and Liara provided a little extra protection for herself and Garrus as the mech exploded, slinging twisted metal throughout the atrium to embed in the ground or the walls.

“Okay,” Shepard said, poking her head up from behind the planter she and Miranda used as cover. “The last one didn’t explode like that .”

“Someone must have hit the power cell,” Miranda said. Manned Atlas mechs didn’t house their main power cells in their chest like an YMIR, but on the back. As long as nothing got behind them, they were supposedly damned impossible to destroy beyond the point of repair.

Miranda realized that aside from Jack and the students, Shepard was the only one without a helmet or mask. “Commander… where’s your helmet?”

Said piece of gear sailed through the air from behind them and bounced along the soft ground before rolling to a halt. “Dammit, Jane!”

So that hasn’t changed.

Shepard picked up her helmet and tucked it under one arm. “I know why I brought it, I just don’t like wearing it.” She looked at Miranda. “Where’d you and Liara get your little mask things? That seems way easier to see in. At least when atmospheric conditions won’t turn your eyeballs to soup.”

“I honestly don’t remember,” Miranda said.

“Dang it.” Shepard snapped her fingers. “Oh well. I’ll need to requisition a bunch of shit anyway when we get back to the Citadel. Fuck, I have a lot of shit to do when we get back to the Citadel.”

Shepard led them through the open door while Jack kept going with the students along the top level. The Commander directed Miranda, Liara, and Garrus to fan out and make sure the other exits were covered. Miranda looked back to see Shepard pick up a data pad, read it, turn white as a sheet, and throw the thing into the air like a frisbee before shooting through it with her pistol. It landed on the ground with a hole in the now blank screen and shattered into dozens of pieces.

“Shepard,” Liara said, “that’s the second time you’ve done that. What aren’t you telling us?”

“Nothing we don’t already know,” Shepard said grimly.

Chapter Text

Reach for the unknown

And know my fire is always with you.

Paragon

Cerberus wouldn’t leave any of them well enough alone. Not only were they irrefutably here for Jack’s kids, they were here for Jack too, and using her kids to get to her. Shepard squeezed her helmet tighter under one arm and adjusted her grip on her pistol. She could just put her helmet back on, but right now the idea just made her claustrophobic. It reminded her too much of the interrogation cell.

The circular hallway that enveloped the atrium got her around to the other side of the wide open space. Shepard clipped her helmet onto her belt at the back where she would have kept a shotgun if she’d thought to bring one. She could get by with the Mantis, the Mattock, and her Hand-Cannon though.

If it wasn’t a blood-soaked battlefield, the atrium of Grissom Academy would be pretty. One wall had an artificial rock face above a glassy pool that was now tinged with red and home to several floating corpses. Moss coated some of the decorative boulders scattered around its edge. Trees and grass and flowers grew out of planters and gave the air a sweet, earthy smell that was now marred by the scent of blood and battle.

At least one of those scents was bizarrely comforting to Jane Shepard. She even got turned on by the smell of spent thermal clips and hot lead flying through the air a hair’s breadth from killing her. It never would, of course, and she knew that. Just like no matter how hard Garrus dug his talons into her waist or sank his teeth into her shoulders, he wouldn’t hurt her. Not really. And then when she was done letting him tear her to pieces, somewhere between the kissing, cuddles, and the tongue that had both more reach and flexibility than it had any right to, she could put herself back together.

I need to get laid… Not just laid… I need Garrus.

She needed to quit being Commander Shepard for a few hours and just let herself be Jane, and the only way she could do that was in the arms of the one person in the galaxy she trusted with all of herself. Garrus had seen everything and hadn’t run away.

The galaxy needs Commander Shepard, though.

That was what the galaxy would get. Commander Shepard burst through the open door and bounded down the stairs armed with a pistol and just enough of her sanity to be deadly.

“Keep your da–dang barriers up, Rodriguez!” Jack shouted at the girl. “This isn’t dodgeball!”

Shepard found the asshole shooting up at Jack's kids too late. Another shot went off before she could sling herself feet first into his chest.

“Dammit! I said watch your barriers!” Jack cried. “Prangley, slap some medigel on her.”

Shepard pumped too many bullets into the Cerberus soldier’s face. His helmet cracked and that eerie blue light filtered out through blood that was darker than it should have been. Shepard raced towards the stairs, leaping over bodies that hit the grass only seconds before she reached them. The high-pitched whir of an automatic turret coupled with rippling on the edges of her vision told her this was a very bad idea, but she’d already committed. Hopefully her squad would be able to back her up.

“I’m okay!” Ensign Rodriguez reassured her fellow students. Shepard knew that voice, even over the guitars shrieking in her ear. It was the voice of someone who really wasn’t okay.

Jack didn’t buy it either. “Like hell you are. Stay down! If you die on me, I will kick your ass!”

The turret continued to whir, but bullets quit hitting her shields from behind. Miranda had planted herself between Shepard and the turret with a barrier up while Liara laid into the combat engineer who’d deployed it with an SMG. Garrus took the staircase opposite Shepard’s two at a time trying to keep up with her and flank the Cerberus troops that made it to the upper level. There weren’t too many, but enough to be a problem for Jack’s students when one of them was injured.

“You come after my kids, you are fucking dead! You hear me?” Jack screamed, flaring with biotic flames and shoving the Cerberus soldiers back with one hand while maintaining her barrier with the other.

Shielded motherfuckers with those giant plates of metal advanced on Shepard and Jack’s kids, but they didn’t expect a pissed off Turian with a high powered full-auto heavy assault rifle taking them out from behind. As they hit the floor, Shepard took the heavy shields with only a tiny slit for the eyes and dragged them back over to where Jack and her kids were hunkered down.

“Use these. Bullets bounce right off. Mind the gap.” She stood back up and peered out over the atrium. “Jack, how far can you throw me?”

“How far do you wanna go?” the psychotic biotic smirked.

“Jane,” Garrus began, no doubt to admonish her for being crazy.

Shepard set her stance and gave Jack the signal before Garrus could say anything else. “Go!”

Getting thrown on purpose by a biotic was always a weird feeling. There was a jerking sensation behind her navel that came with just a little bit of nausea, like a rollercoaster lurching forward to begin its ascent. Shepard flew through the air and ran out of upward momentum, descending into freefall. Below her, the atrium was filled with showers of sparks that overloaded enemy kinetic shields, singularities that sucked Cerberus in, and a straggler here and there being caught in a stasis field. Shepard sailed above them all, keeping an eye in the scope of her Mattock and squeezing the trigger any time something with a Cerberus hexagon on its chest showed up in her sights.

“Hey motherfuckers!” Shepard called. “Up here!”

It was a good enough distraction, and that was all she needed to take the heat off of Jack and let her squad do some cleanup.

Maybe Shepard should have given Jack better instructions, because she splashed into the pond on the far side of the atrium and hit the bottom. She kicked off and got back to the surface, sputtering and hacking up water from her lungs. She tried to push herself back up over the edge, but couldn’t get a good foothold on the smooth metal sides.

The fighting had died down. Liara and Miranda were up on Jack’s level helping her check over the other students. One Cerberus soldier had apparently avoided detection, however, and left his cover to take out the easy prey Shepard had let herself become.

No. Not like this.

Shepard still had her Mattock in one hand. She planted her elbows on the ground and pointed the muzzle upwards. The gun was kicked out of her grasp. Ice settled in her stomach as she realized that she’d totally fucked up.

Archangel

“Garrus!” Jane shrieked from across the room. Her voice reverberated off of the walls.

Garrus found his Commander, metaphorically backed into a corner, halfway out of the pond on the other side of the atrium. Her Mattock was just out of reach and a Cerberus soldier they’d all somehow missed loomed over Jane with a gun pointed at her head. Her bangs were plastered over one eye with water, but her visible eye was wide with fear.

Crosshairs sat two degrees to the right of the center of the back of the Cerberus soldier’s head. It exploded in a red and black mist. He fell to his knees and into the water as Jane splashed to the side to get out of the way.

Garrus crossed the atrium at a run, removing his helmet as he did so. He knelt and pulled Jane up out of the pond. He didn’t let her go once she got back onto solid ground, however. He stayed there by the water’s edge with his arms around her. Jane let him, burying her face in his neck and holding Garrus so tightly that her arms were shaking.

“It’s okay,” Garrus said softly. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m so happy you’re back,” Jane replied. “I couldn’t do half this shit without you.”

Nor I without you, sweetheart.

That was what he wanted to say, punctuated by an amorous nibble at her neck just behind her jaw. But Garrus really wasn’t sure how Jane would take that right now. Before everything went to hell–again–she would have been into it.

Jane pulled back and Garrus thought for a moment that she was going to lean in for a kiss, but she instead looked up at the balcony where Liara, Miranda, and Jack were corralling the students.

“Come on,” Jane said. “Let’s get them the hell out of here.”

“One thing before we go.” Garrus pushed her wet bangs behind her ear. “Both eyes on the target, alright?”

Jane nodded. “Yeah. Got it.”

It was a damn good thing that guns were waterproof, because a massive puddle had formed around where Jane was on the ground as her small arsenal drained. She wrung out her ponytail and pulled herself to her feet with Garrus not far behind her. Jane didn’t stop him when he rested his hand on the small of her back while they walked up the stairs. She instead moved closer to him and Garrus’s hand settled on her waist.

Jane reached up to her earpiece. “Understood.” She turned her attention back to their squad, Jack, and the students. “Director Sanders made it to the shuttle bay, but we still need to be careful.”

“We’ll split up again,” Jack said. “Shepard, you guys and Cheerleader go through the main hall. I’ll take the kids a back way.”

Miranda put her hands on her hips. “I have a name, you know, Jack.”

Jack smirked. “I know, Miranda.”

“So what is our plan?” Liara asked.

“Make a shit ton of noise,” Jane said. “They’ll come see what the fuss is about.”

The way from the atrium to the main hall was cast in shadows. It ascended several sets of steps, maybe four or five in each small incline. Out here, the walls were a darker gray instead of white. Water flowed down the opposite walls in an apparently decorative feature. It wasn’t entirely practical. Water was vital to survival, and rationed out in space since it wasn’t readily available. Why Humans thought to use something so strategically valuable as a fucking decoration, Garrus wouldn’t understand. This was a space station, not a nature preserve.

Voices could be heard coming from the direction of the shuttle bay. Cerberus had figured out what they were doing and tried to get in their way. Around the corner, Garrus and the others could see some more Cerberus troops. They stood facing a collection of students standing under a barrier field of some sort. It didn’t look biotic, but it was damn close.

“That’s an impressive barrier, Octavia,” one of the soldiers said. “Our file says you’ve been working on shield technology.” His voice came out in that same guttural, distorted rasp as the others. Human voices were not supposed to sound like that, like a Krogan gargling a chainsaw.

The young woman they were addressing shot back, “It’s a handheld multicore solution based on cyclonic barrier technology, jackhole. And it’s pronounced Oc-tah-via.”

Jane motioned for everyone to get behind cover. She pulled the Mantis off her back and winked at Garrus, who grabbed out the Widow.

“Why don’t you come out peacefully,” the Cerberus man cajoled.

“Why don’t you bite me?” Octavia spat.

“Your cousin Joanna is already on the shuttle, Octavia. Don’t you want to make sure she’s safe?”

Garrus heard Jane’s grip on her gun tighten. “Fucking bastards,” she breathed. “These are just kids.”

“Bring her here,” Octavia demanded.

That caught the Cerberus soldier off guard. “What?”

Garrus liked to think that if Lana ever got herself into a position like this, she’d act the same way. His kid sister could be downright bitchy when she wanted to be. Hopefully he’d taught her better than to trust random assholes claiming they had her family hostage.

“Bring her here so I can see her, you damn liar!” Octavia shouted. “You think I’m gonna take your word for it?”

Jane gave her signal. She and Garrus obliterated the heads of the two Cerberus soldiers between them and the students behind the barrier. They dropped to the ground and Jane rolled out of cover and up to standing. She began to slowly approach the students.

Paragon

“I don’t know who you are, but stay back!” Octavia commanded.

Shepard held up her hands. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not with Cerberus.” She pointed to her eyes. “See? I’m Commander Shepard with the Alliance. I’m here to help you.”

“I didn’t buy it from the last guy, and I’ve got no reason to buy it now.” Octavia opened her omni-tool and held it out towards Shepard. 

Shepard supposed that she looked pretty intimidating with two aliens and Miranda backing her up. This Octavia girl was smart, she knew better than to trust anyone when her back was to the wall. An offered hand might have a gun behind their back.

“The square root of 906.01 equals…” A soft voice caught Shepard’s attention. She looked down at a prematurely bald young man with gentle eyes and gnarly looking scars over his arms and hands. Scars that Dr. Chakwas and Mordin hadn’t been able to erase no matter how hard they tried.

“30.1” Shepard finished the equation. She smiled softly. “Hello, David.”

“Hello, Commander Shepard.” David Archer still had her old headphones around his neck. There was much more color in his face than the last time Shepard had seen him, strung up as he was like the Vitruvian Man.

The other student behind the barrier with them, another young man, turned to David in surprise. “You know her?”

David nodded. He kept his eyes somewhere around Shepard’s knees. “Yes.” He put his hands on the headphones. “Commander Shepard rescued me from Cerberus. Sent me here. She made it quiet.” He put the headphones back over his ears.

The other students lowered the barrier.

“You did good. Cerberus is a tough opponent. We’re trying to round everyone up and get them to the shuttle bay,” Shepard said. “Jack and the biotic students are on the upper level. Stick with them and Jack will keep you safe.”

“He looks a lot better,” Garrus said, commenting on David’s appearance.

Octavia helped David to stand up and started to lead him by the hand, but David turned back. “I remember you. Normandy crew.” David looked at the ground. “Sorry.”

“It was never your fault,” Garrus reassured him.

Shepard felt a little ball of warmth in her chest. Garrus always knew where to lay the blame for things and wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

So when he tells you not to blame yourself?

That’s different.

Why?

“How’s the Academy been for you, David? Do you like it here?” Shepard asked.

“Yes,” David said. “I’ve been counting.”

Shepard tilted her head to the side. “Anything in particular?”

David looked up from the ground and into Shepard’s eyes. “The number of days you lengthened my life.” He turned back and pointed towards the door. “The security office… I hacked the lock. Guns. Lots of guns. Goodbye.” He let Octavia start leading him away again.

“I’m happy we got him out of there,” Miranda said. “And I’m sorry I tried to defend what happened.”

“You’ve done your penance, Miranda,” Shepard said. “You were lied to from the time you were a kid. What else were you supposed to believe?”

“I know,” Miranda said as they opened the door to the security office. “I went from one abusive parent to another.”

“I’m just glad you’re not letting those fucks take advantage of you anymore.” Shepard inspected a few firearms. “Garrus, you think you and Vega can make something of these when we get back off the ship?”

“Oh can I. Some of it might get cannibalized for parts, but I definitely have a few ideas I’ve been wanting to try.” Garrus turned another Mattock over in his hands. The only thing he touched like that aside from guns was Shepard herself. “Testing them out on a spare might be safer than fucking around with ours.”

“Neat. Anything you see that isn’t bolted to the floor or on fire, grab. We’re broke again and there’s a war on. I’m not above arms dealing to fund this mission.”

“What happened to all the money you and Tali stole from Nassana Dantius?” Liara asked.

“Went to funding medical bills and funeral costs for the workers she tried or succeeded in killing. Also compensating families. All the other credits we stole from Cerberus or… recovered… went to paying my court costs, fees for housing me in jail, the apartment the Alliance locked me in for three months…” Shepard exited the security room. “You’d think if I was paying for everything, they would have gotten me the goddamn chocolate poptarts I asked for. But no. I had to have strawberry. And then the galaxy went to hell.”

“On the topic of food, Jane, when was the last time you ate?”

Her silence was their answer.

“Oh my god, Commander,” Miranda groaned. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“I had a ration bar,” Shepard protested. “And coffee.”

“That’s not food and you know it, Shepard,” Liara replied curtly. “Not according to Dr. Chakwas.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on top of this?” Miranda addressed Garrus. “Do your damn job.”

“It’s not his responsibility,” Shepard snapped. She stopped in front of a terminal displaying some kind of blueprint or model. “Okay, someone, what am I looking at?”

“Schematics for a biotic amp interface,” Liara said. She pulled the data onto a small drive that went into her pocket. “Not as good as what Miranda and I are working with, but still worth keeping.”

Shepard turned away from the terminal and found Garrus looking anywhere but at her.

Observer

Shepard led them forward again, over a haphazardly arranged pile of furniture.

“What’s going on with them?” Miranda whispered to Liara.

Liara shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. But something’s up.”

“I can hear you,” Garrus muttered.

“Then explain yourself,” Miranda demanded in a hiss.

Garrus sighed. “We’re… on a break, I guess.”

“What did you do?” Miranda crossed her arms as she waited for the Turian to get to the other side of the furniture barricade.

“I have no idea. She said she wanted time to figure things out.”

Liara had an idea of what that might mean, but didn’t feel right putting words in Shepard’s mouth. The Commander felt guilty over any happiness she experienced right now, no matter how badly she wanted it or needed it. If she was happy, she wasn’t suitably upset over what was going on.

“They’re at the shuttles,” a voice called out when the next door opened. “Don’t let them escape!”

Shepard pounced on a combat engineer, wailing on his shields with bullets before knifing him in the gut for the kill. She jammed her fist up and in, puncturing the diaphragm and possibly one lung. She reared back and aimed another blade forged out of her omni-tool at his neck before the engineer went down. The Commander caught sight of a data pad on the floor and didn’t bother reading this one. She just shot it across the ground until the screen went dark.

“If I read any more sick shit today, I’m going to spontaneously combust.”

“If there’s a cause to it, it’s not spontaneous, Jane,” Garrus said.

“I know what I said.” Shepard eyed an empty Atlas mech next to the dead engineer. “You guys think I can drive this thing?”

“It should be pretty easy,” Miranda said. “These brainless buffoons can do it.”

“Cool.” Shepard climbed up into the mech and pulled its hatch closed. Much to everyone’s dismay, the front window had been shot out and was instead a jagged ring of broken glass. “Alright. Don’t get hit. Got it.”

Shepard stomped away in the mech, up some stairs and around a central support pillar to a wide room containing a statue of the academy’s namesake, a man named Jon Grissom. Jack and the students were on a balcony at the far end of the room under a barrier being maintained by multiple biotics. Liara and Miranda took opposite flanks to try and keep the Commander covered in the heavy, slow mech.

Chapter Text

Are you gonna be the one to save us

From the black and hopeless feeling?

Paragon

Rockets shot out of the right hand of the mech, and a beam cannon out of its left. Both weapons were equally devastating. Any time she saw a helmet pop up out of cover, it took only one or two shots to knock it off along with the head underneath. Jack started sending her kids across two by two to reach the shuttle.

Shepard heard the loud ka-pow of a sniper rifle, but couldn’t get a visual on Garrus. Wherever he was, he was very well hidden. She turned and saw another group of Cerberus soldiers running across the top level towards Jack’s kids. Miranda grabbed one of them in a stasis field and Liara manifested a new singularity to pull them back towards the door. Shepard fired a rocket from the Atlas into the tangle of bodies and biotics. Several shots from the Widow took down soldiers who broke out of the sphere of influence on Liara’s miniature black holes.

Shepard just had to point and shoot. The mech made it almost comically easy to kill the men Cerberus threw in front of her. If it was this powerful, how had the three, and then four of them managed to take several out so far? Were Cerberus that ill-prepared or was her squad just that good?

They probably were just that good. She had a genetically perfect Human, the fuckmothering Shadow Broker, and an ex-cop who turned himself into a merc hunter and would murder the shit out of anyone who thought about hurting Shepard.

Three more shots from the Widow, three dead Cerberus men.

“Okay, for real, where the hell is Garrus?” Shepard scanned the room with her eyes again and still couldn’t find him.

She heard a tapping on the top of the Atlas mech. “Up here, Jane.”

Her eyes flew wide. “What the fuck!? Babe, get down ! You’re a goddamn sitting duck up there!”

“And you’ve got two glaring weaknesses on the front and back of this mech.”

“You know what? Fine. If you get yourself killed, it’s not going to bother me. You brought this on yourself.”

“Less flirting, more fighting!” Miranda shouted.

Shepard sputtered indignantly and shot a rocket at a tight grouping of Cerberus troops, killing all of them in a single blast.

Teacher

Jack knew Shepard was crazy. No sane person would let a biotic toss them across the room into a pond. She had not, however, thought that Shepard’s alien boyfriend was just as crazy as the Commander.

Shepard lumbered into the room piloting an Atlas mech with a shot out face, and Garrus sitting his happy ass on top of it using his legs to hang on for dear life to the metal ring for air-dropping the things. He kept his eye to the scope of his sniper rifle and made sure nothing got close to both Shepard and Jack’s kids.

“Whoa,” Rodriguez said. “Your friend is so cool.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Jack said. “It’ll go right to her head.”

Miranda and Liara provided biotic backup to Shepard, keeping enemies still or grouped up so that they could more easily be managed.

Kahlee had the shuttles ready. Jack started sending her kids in pairs. Things were going pretty well until a second mech stomped into the room from the same door Shepard had used to get in.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Shepard shouted.

A ball of sparks splashed over the mech, shorting its shields and leaving it vulnerable to Liara and Miranda. Jack kept her barrier up to give her damn kids some cover and was forced to watch as someone else did the fighting. Garrus hopped down off of Shepard’s mech and narrowly avoided what Jack was certain would be his second rocket to the face.

Shepard moved her mech forward with slow, heavy steps. She fired the cannon as fast as she was able, trying to eat through the enemy mech’s armor plating and hit something vital. The other mech shot along the ground, tearing up the floor. A smoke grenade rolled in front of Shepard and filled the area with thick, gray smoke Jack couldn’t see through. She was reasonably certain Shepard couldn’t see out either. Miranda and Liara did what they could to limit the other mech’s mobility and keep the Cerberus troops that were still pouring into the room off everyone’s backs. Garrus did what he did best, dropping bastards in a single shot. Sometimes he got a two for one if shit lined up properly.

“Ass!” Shepard cried. She sounded hurt.

The last of Jack’s kids made it to Kahlee in the shuttle bay just in time for a rocket to clear the smoke around Shepard’s mech. The hydraulics for one leg had been severed by a stray bullet or shot from the other mech’s machine gun arm. She was a sitting duck.

Jack dove off the balcony, hitting the ground and taking off at a dead sprint at the mech piloted by a Cerberus soldier. She flared blue-violet and slammed her hands into the ground, sending a shockwave rippling over the floor to knock the Cerberus mech on its ass. Jack launched herself into the air, bringing a fist down onto the front glass and vaporizing it with a biotics-fueled punch that connected with the glowy-eyed bastard inside. She felt the force reverberate inside his helmet as what used to be a Human head turned to jelly.

Jack looked back to see Shepard slumped over in her mech clutching her side. The Commander’s squad converged on her position. Shepard pulled out her pistol and shot once, dropping a straggler who’d managed to survive the bulk of the firefight.

Shepard kicked the mech open. It took her a couple of tries and that was when Jack realized something was very wrong. Before the hatch had even opened all the way, Shepard fell out and hit the ground. Her knees buckled and she lurched forward into Garrus’s arms. Jack saw that the inside of the mech was stained with blood.

“It’s not deep,” Shepard said, staggering to her feet. “I’m fine. I can walk.”

“Like hell you can, Jane,” Garrus started to scold her.

“We don’t have time to fucking argue!” Liara snapped. “If Shepard says she’s fine, she’s fine.” Liara pulled the last can of medigel off of Shepard’s belt and applied it to the Commander’s side.

“Get a move on,” Jack said. She heard footsteps running towards their position.

“I’ll get your kids out, Jack. I promise.” Shepard tested her leg and winced, grabbing her side. “Shit, that stings.”

Miranda and Liara took off towards the shuttle bay at a run. Shepard followed a little more slowly. A lot more slowly. Garrus just had to walk to keep up with her. Jack kept close to them, holding her barrier up to cover their retreat. What the hell had happened? How had Shep gotten her ass fucking shot? Yeah, she’d gotten shot before, but that was by giant supercomputer robots or assassins. These Cereberus fuckers could get their asses kicked by a bunch of teenagers! They shouldn’t be able to lay a hand on the Commander.

Once in the shuttle bay, both Shepard and Jack started counting kids. Kahlee had the shuttle ready, and the Normandy got the cruiser out of position to allow their escape.

Jack was one short. “Where the hell is Rodriguez!?” Dammit, she implemented a buddy system for this very reason!

Shepard limped towards the glass window looking out of the shuttle bay. There was Ensign Rodriguez, barrelling around the corner and sliding into cover behind a bench while half a dozen Cerberus goons closed in on her.

“She needs covering fire!” Shepard ordered. She started to slam the butt of her rifle into the glass, trying to break it. Aside from a few spiderwebbing indentations, even Commander Shepard couldn’t shatter space-grade glass.

Jack could though. “She needs more than that!” Jack slapped her palms into the window and sent shards of glass and dark energy rippling out to knock everyone off their feet.

Shepard jumped through the now open window and slid down behind Rodriguez. She pulled the girl’s arm over her shoulder and they each limped towards the shuttle bay once more. Some of the Cerberus men made it back to their feet and started firing. Shepard tanked most of the shots with her shield. Liara and Miranda laid down a line of suppressing fire while Garrus and Jack helped Shepard and Rodriguez back through the window.

One shot made it through the line. “Fuck ass bitch titties,” Shepard cursed. “That one… that one was deep…”

The huge pistol Shepard kept strapped to her leg disappeared and reappeared in Garrus’s hand. Jack and Rodridguez took involuntary half-steps backwards as an obviously pissed off Turian blew the head off of any visible Cerberus bastard.

“What’s their deal?” Rodriguez asked Jack, keeping her voice low.

Jack shrugged. “Shep protects everyone else, Garrus protects Shep.”

Paragon

Shepard’s sides throbbed. Her vision swam. She tried to keep moving forward, towards the open shuttle, but her feet wouldn’t comply.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Garrus said, picking her up. “Just let us help you.”

He’s not supposed to call you that.

Fuck you. I got shot. Twice. I want my alien boyfriend.

Once everyone was safe and secure inside the shuttle, Director Sanders gave the signal to Miranda to GTFO. Shepard winced as their takeoff rattled her injuries. The shuttle was packed with students, Shepard’s squad, Director Sanders, and Jack.

“What the hell was that back there, Shep?” Jack demanded.

“One thing at a time, Jacqueline,” Shepard hissed. She radioed the Normandy. “Joker, we got out in a Cerberus shuttle. Miranda’s driving. Watch your fire.”

“Alright, I’ve got you on sensors. Should just be a minute.”

“Make sure Dr. Chakwas is ready,” Garrus said loud enough for Joker to hear through Shepard’s comm link. “We’ve got injured.” Rather than just put Shepard the fuck down, Garrus kept ahold of her and awkwardly sat his ass in a corner of the shuttle. “Quit squirming, Jane. Let Liara at least take a look at you.”

Multiple eyes landed on Liara. “Well don’t look at me. I’m not that kind of doctor! My PhD is in archeology!”

“Thank you, Commander,” Director Sanders said as Liara started poking at Shepard’s injuries again. “We’d have never gotten off that station if you hadn’t come.”

“Yeah,” Shepard grunted. “No problem.”

“Forget that,” Jack said. “We kicked some ass. Next place we dock, you’re all getting inked. My treat. What do you guys want? Ascension Project logo? Glowing fist? Maybe a unicorn for Rodriguez? Shep down there’s got a freaking Pikachu tramp stamp.”

“Screw you, ma’am,” Rodriguez said before breaking out into laughter.

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Haha, funny. I also got electrocuted twice and lived .”

“I can’t believe we got them out alive,” Director Sanders said.

“Yeah, again, no problem. That said, they’re still kids. They should stick to support roles until they’ve got a bit more of a taste for fighting.” Shepard pushed herself to a more upright sitting position.

“What!?” Ensign Prangley shouted. “We trained for artillery strikes.”

“The Alliance doesn’t need more artillery units. We need stronger barriers for the frontline squads,” Shepard explained.

“It is where you’d have the most impact,” Liara said.

“This is bullshit!” Rodriguez cried.

“Your superior officer gave you an assignment, Ensign,” Garrus said.

“Shep’s right,” Jack said. “If that’s where they need us, then that’s where we’ll go. Besides, I’m sure we’ll get some shots in.” She turned back to Shepard. “Now you, what the hell was that back there? Did you seriously get shot? Twice?”

“I said I’d get your kids out, Jack, no matter what. I promised you that.” Shepard let herself lean back against Garrus. “I keep my promises.”

She was saved from the verbal tirade Jack was building up to by Joker being his asshole self. “Hey Jack, now that you’re military are you going to wear a uniform or are you just getting the officer’s bars tattooed on?”

“Screw you f…flight lieutenant,” Jack stumbled over the curse.

“I’m so glad Tali’s not here,” Garrus mumbled.

“Yeah,” Shepard said. “She wouldn’t give half a f… flip about cussing.”

Joker started laughing through the comm link. “What the hell was that?”

“Joker, can it, there’s kids on the shuttle!” Shepard shouted.

“Jack promised to watch her language in order to maintain the professionalism we require from our teachers,” Director Sanders explained. That woman probably had never said the word “fuck” in her life. She probably hadn’t even said “shit” or “ass”.

“What? Does she have a swear jar or something?” Joker asked. “Because I bet if we emptied that thing, we could afford another cruiser.”

“Cover your ears kids,” Jack said. Only when everyone under the age of eighteen had their palms flush against their earlobes did she lay into Joker. “Hey, Jeffery, fuck you! You goddamned motherfucker! You’re out here cracking fucking jokes, Shep got fucking shot twice! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Ah hell, Chakwas is gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah,” Shepard groaned. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Prodigal

The Normandy scooped up their shuttle and set course immediately for the Citadel. Jack’s students and the others from Grissom Academy piled into the crew deck for snacks, naps, showers, and whatever else they might need. Shepard herself, true to form, had to be carried to the med bay by her alien boyfriend because she wouldn’t go herself until she made sure that everyone else was okay.

“Intros real quick,” Shepard said. “Miranda, James Vega. James, Miranda Lawson. The guy examining the shuttle is Steve Cortez. Liara took your old room. Garrus, you may now take me to the med bay. Everyone else, play nice!”

“It’s not like I was going to take you anywhere else,” Garrus muttered.

Miranda watched Garrus walk away with Shepard like he was carrying her over the threshold of a new house. Miranda felt a little put out and just a smidge jealous.

James Vega was a concrete slab of a man. He had more muscles than Miranda could comprehend, and despite the odds she found herself being into it. Based on the side-eye he gave Garrus, Miranda could surmise that James was yet another man who’d developed a crush on Commander Shepard. So that dream was crushed, at least for now.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Miranda said. She extended a hand, which was swallowed by James’s warm grasp. Rather than a handshake, he brought her knuckles to his lips.

“Hola, Miranda,” James said. “Or perhaps you’d prefer mamacita?”

Dear god… the accent…

Miranda succeeded in not swooning, but she blushed. “Well you’re quite… forward…”

“We keep getting more pretty women on this ship,” James said. “I need to make a good first impression.”

“Shameless flirt,” Steve muttered.

Miranda delicately tugged her hand from James’s. “I suppose you’re like this with all the girls, then?”

“Just the truly beautiful ones.” James smiled. His white teeth stood out against his brown skin. “I’ll be down here if you need anything at all, mamacita.”

“I used to be the XO on this ship, you know. Or I was supposed to be.” Miranda said. “When Cerberus gave Shepard the Normandy SR2, they had me on board to oversee the mission.”

James narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re Cerberus?”

“I quit. When I first joined I was just a desperate kid. Shepard showed me what they really were. And now the Illusive Ass wants me dead.”

James gave her a nod of approval. “You’re alright in my book, then, Miranda.”

Miranda smiled. “Glad to hear that.”

“So… supposed to be an Executive Officer?” James raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“Well, Shepard didn’t trust Cerberus. For good reason, now that I look back on it. So she entirely subverted my authority and created her own command structure with Garrus, Ashley, and Tali,” Miranda explained. She played with the ends of her hair and cocked one hip out to the side. She held her arms in such a way that accentuated her ample cleavage. “It worked out for the best, I think.”

Everything had gone a million times better than Miranda thought it would at the start. They didn’t lose a single man on their run at the Collector base in the galactic core. Shepard had somehow managed to achieve that. Miranda had been hurt at being passed over for leading the fireteam and using her biotics to maintain the barrier against the seeker swarms. But Shepard’s choices for those roles were the best for the job.

Miranda Lawson one year ago would have been too full of hubris to admit that. Now, though, she trusted Commander Shepard.

“So, about Shepard and Garrus,” James said.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “What would you like to know?”

“Does he… you know,” James said. “How do they…?”

Of course that would be what he had questions about. Miranda’s eye twitched. “Very loudly and the results involve broken furniture.” Never mind that the table had already been damaged. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah, what do girls see in aliens?”

Miranda shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. But if I were Shepard and I had someone that I trusted enough to leave my mission to if I died, I might fall in love with them.”

Candidate

“Dios mio,” James sighed as Miranda left the shuttle bay. “Are all Shepard’s friends hot?”

So far, James Vega had met a sexy lieutenant commander, an Asari with fantastic legs, Shepard herself, and now a pair of biotics who were gorgeous in entirely different ways. Jack had a mysterious alt-girl allure with the tattoos and shaved head. James couldn’t quit thinking about that woman’s full lips. Miranda had the cool confidence of an older woman and curves for days. If things with Shepard didn’t work out, maybe he could find some solace in Miranda’s perfect tits.

“Liara, Ashley, and Jack are bi, pan, whatever the right term for an Asari is.” Steve said. “Miranda is one hundred percent straight.”

“Hey, Esteban, what do you think she meant by that last part?” Had Miranda just been hyperbolic, or was she serious about Shepard leaving Garrus in charge if she died?

“How should I know?” Steve said. “You could always just ask Shepard. I hear women like that.”

James shook his head. “Ladies go nuts for a guy who knows what they want without them having to say it.”

“In my experience, they really just want someone who’ll listen to them.” Steve finished his inspection of the Cerberus shuttle.

“And what experience is that?” James asked.

“They do open up to me once they find out I’m gay.”

Dammit, Esteban. You have a point.

“You think you can help grease the wheels for me?” James looked over to where Steve had started tinkering with the Normandy’s shuttle.

“James, I’m not going to help you be a homewrecker. Cut it out.” Steve popped the front hatches on the shuttles’ hoods and started making comparisons between the Alliance’s Kodiak shuttle and the one used by Cerberus. “Garrus asked the Commander to marry him. He’s that serious.”

James furrowed his brow. That serious? “Well, what did she say?”

Steve shrugged. “Taking some time to figure out her response.”

James grew thoughtful. Shepard hadn’t said yes. Maybe he still had a chance to steal her away from the alien.

Paragon

“Okay, Doc, what’s the damage?” Shepard sat on an examination table in her sports bra, leggings, and boots. The bloody holes in her side still throbbed, and she wondered if maybe she’d lost more blood than she thought because it felt cold in the med bay.

Dr. Chakwas finished cleaning one of the wounds. “Narrowly missed everything important. You’ve got someone up there watching out for you.”

“It’s a damn good thing you’ve got someone down here doing the same thing, Jane,” Garrus said. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed looking down at the floor.

“I never asked you to–” she began.

“You don’t have to,” Garrus snapped. “What part of ‘I love you’ don’t you get?” His eyes bored into hers.

I love you too.

Stop it. Turn it off. We don’t have time.

I don’t care. If this is the end, can I at least spend it with him?

No.

“Commander, I’m going to have to apply a local subcutaneous anesthetic so we can stitch these up,” Dr. Chakwas said.

“Fuck.” It didn’t matter how Dr. Chakwas phrased it. She meant a needle. Shepard hated needles. She couldn’t wait for Dr. Chakwas to knock her out first. Shepard still had to debrief with Hackett and Anderson.

If Mordin were here, he’d be chattering her ear off to distract her from the smaller-than-it-felt needle in Dr. Chakwas’s hand, talking at her about his STG days and some of the other clandestine assignments the Salarian government had sent him on.

Garrus pushed himself off the wall and came to stand directly in front of Shepard. He rested his forehead against hers and cradled her face in his hands, thumbs running back and forth across her cheekbones. “Just focus on me, Jane. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Shepard grabbed Garrus’s wrists, digging her nails into armor and skin alike. She stared up into storm clouds edged in silver lining while thunder pounded in her chest and lightning crackled harmlessly across her cheeks. Only the warm rush of narcotic painkillers and the pleasant numbness of anesthetic told her that Dr. Chakwas had gone ahead with both injections. A tugging sensation let her know when the doctor started stitching Shepard’s wounds closed from the inside. She almost wanted to look down and watch the red blood. Normal red. Human red. Not dark like whatever the fuck was in those half-husk Cerberus soldiers.

Garrus had to move to the side so Dr. Chakwas could get a better angle on one of the gunshots. He brought Shepard’s face around with him. “You’re doing a good job. She’s almost done.”

Maybe it was the painkillers, Shepard always had a low tolerance for them since she hardly ever used them, but she felt warm, fuzzy, and a little disinhibited. “Have I ever told you that you’ve got a really sexy voice?”

His mandibles twitched apart in that stupid cute lopsided smile he had ever since getting part of his face nearly blown off. “Well there had to be something that started making you attracted to all this.” Garrus rolled his eyes in lieu of gesturing to himself.

“That was part of it,” Shepard breathed. She winced when Dr. Chakwas tugged the stitches a little too tightly. The anesthetic and painkillers either hadn’t made it that deep yet or were starting to wear off. “I also really liked watching you talk about guns.”

Garrus grew serious again. “Jane, about what I said when we were talking alone, I didn’t mean to put you in a tight spot.”

Shepard smiled. “It’s okay. I… still need a little time to get my head screwed on straight. If you and I are gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right, right?”

Garrus nodded. Shepard felt the rough surface of his carapace move up and down on her forehead. “Yeah. We’ll do this right.”

“One last prick, Commander,” Dr. Chakwas warned. “This one’s a regenerative so these will be fully healed by the time we reach the Citadel.”

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip in preparation for the stab. She hardly felt it. Garrus kissed her forehead before pulling away. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

“Is this gonna make me sleepy in two hours, Doc?” Shepard asked.

Dr. Chakwas nodded. “That is how they work for species without an accelerated healing factor.”

“Dammit. I wish I was a Krogan.” Shepard hopped off of the examination table.

“As far as Wrex is concerned, you are,” Garrus joked.

Shepard tilted her head to the side. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Tali.”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “And I suppose she said not to tell anyone he said it?”

Garrus nodded. “Oh absolutely.”

Shepard sighed. “I love Tali to death, but she can not keep her mouth shut. Well, mostly.”

Garrus looked sheepish. “She did slap me and tell me that you were in love with me.”

Shepard felt the color drain from her face. “When?”

“While you were out to dinner with Jacob.”

“Gods…” Shepard exhaled the word. “And you didn’t say anything because…?”

Garrus shrugged. “I was actively planning a way to ask you on a real date, but that had to wait until after we dealt with Sidonis.” He picked up the pieces of Shepard’s armor. “I’ll get these back down to the armory and on the list for repairs. You should probably get everything done before the regeneratives kick in.”

“Um… one problem. No shirt.”

“You didn’t used to normally wear one.”

Dr. Chakwas produced Shepard’s jacket without so much as a dramatic flourish. “Here you are. Go talk with Hackett and Anderson, then eat something, please. I don’t want to have to give you a second dose.”

“Thanks.” Shepard pulled her arms through the sleeves and zipped it up to just above her sports bra.

“Garrus, if you want to stay for a bit, I can help with your scars,” the doctor offered.

Garrus shook his head. “No need, Doc.” He winked at Shepard. “They’ve kind of grown on me.”

“One more thing, Commander,” Dr. Chakwas said. She looked over some scans that were displayed on a terminal next to the exam table. “My initial scans taken during your physical read what looks like internal scar tissue, or what’s left of it after someone did a hack-job of healing it. I didn’t see anything in your updated medical file?”

“Blacksite.” Shepard wrapped her arms around her waist and scurried out of the med bay without any other explanation.

Archangel

Garrus was too stunned to speak. When he finally found his voice, Jane had already left.

“Excuse me, what the fuck?” Garrus addressed the question to nobody in particular, but Dr. Chakwas was the only other person in the room.

“I suspected as much,” Dr. Chakwas said. The older Human looked sadly at the terminal. “On a hunch, I had Liara use her connections to dig up a little extra information. Hackett and Anderson were against sending her there. The rest of the Alliance’s military leaders, however, outvoted them.”

“So they…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Dr. Chakwas shook her head. “I can’t confirm anything other than she was hurt while she was there. Could have been a fight with another prisoner.”

Garrus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shooting off at the mouth. If it had been a fight with someone else, Jane wouldn’t have gotten hurt badly enough for it to scar. Certainly not badly enough that someone went in to try and hide it. Officially, so-called “enhanced interrogation” was widely accepted as bullshit by everyone aside from the Batarians. Any sane sapient being would say anything to make it stop.

And the second they needed her again, she jumped right back into the line of duty.

When this war was over, Garrus was either going to single handedly dismantle what was left of the Human Systems Alliance, or he was going to take his Commander so far away that nobody would fuck with them ever again. Some place where the only things touching her satin soft skin were his hands and mouth.

Assuming she still wanted him when this was all over.

It's so pathetic. I make myself sick.

I can't get over you. I can't get over any of this.

Chapter Text

Some day I will touch the stars.

Take me back home.

Paragon

Shepard stood at the vid-comm with the welcome sight of Admiral Anderson greeting her. Instead of the officer’s uniform she’d last seen him in, the Admiral wore basic fatigues. The only signifiers of his rank were the officer’s bars on his chest.

“Shepard, damned if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” Anderson said.

Shepard’s painkillers had definitely worn off now and she favored her side that got shot. “Good to see you too, Sir.”

Anderson looked taken aback. “Sir? I may have reinstated you, but that doesn’t give you permission to go all formal on me.”

“Would you prefer ‘look what piece of shit the goddamn motherfucking cat dragged in?’” Shepard asked.

Anderson chuckled. “That’s more like it.”

“I’m glad you managed to keep your ass alive, Anderson.”

“You didn’t waste any time getting to work. Or getting shot, I see.” Anderson looked at Shepard’s hand on her side. “I can only imagine what would have happened to those kids if they fell into Cerberus hands.”

“I don’t have to. Did Hackett forward you the report I sent him about the soldiers on Mars? They’re all like that.” Shepard balled her other hand into a fist. “They’re fucking kids , Anderson. And Illusive Ass would have them turned into… Well whatever it was, it wasn’t Human anymore.”

Anderson nodded. “These students are some of the best Humanity has to offer, and we’re throwing them into battle. God dammit. I hate this war.”

“It’s fucking sick, sir,” Shepard agreed.

“Hackett didn’t mention in his report…” Anderson began. Shepard knew what he was going to ask.

“Director Sanders is safe. She’s with the recruits on my crew deck as we speak. We’re en route to the Citadel and then they’ll meet up with the squads they’ll be supporting there.” Shepard looked back towards the war room and the elevator. “I can have her come in and talk if you’d like.”

Anderson shook his head. “Thanks, Shepard. When I heard about the attack, I… Well, I’ve already lost a lot of friends.”

“Anderson, I know you two at least fucked. The way she looked when I told her you were alive implied a hell of a lot more than that.” Shepard smiled. “She asked me to tell you to stay alive, but I think you should hear it from her.”

Shepard waved to someone outside the comm terminal’s visual range. Director Sanders stepped into the small room.

“Hello, David.”

“Kahlee…” Anderson’s jaw hit the floor, or would have if it wasn’t attached to his face and the normal laws of physics didn’t apply.

“There’s a lot we didn’t have time for,” Director Sanders said. “But I want you to stay alive. Maybe we can get a second chance.”

Shepard left them to talk. They obviously needed to. She made her way to the crew deck and got actual food, sitting down amongst a gaggle of Grissom Academy students who were clambering to hear stories from herself, Jack, and Miranda.

If I run out of time, would Garrus and I get a second chance?

Shepard realized with a start that this was their second chance, and she was squandering it. Or maybe they were just cursed with the situation of “right person, wrong time”. Shepard had waited her entire life for a person like him, someone she could be vulnerable around without them bailing or taking advantage of it.

What if it’s just… What was that thing Kelly told us about? Trauma-bonding?

Shepard couldn’t quite remember the exact definition. She supposed what she had with Garrus might be in that category. They’d shared a lot of really fucked up experiences, and there were precious few other people who had. But Liara and Ash had wound up together and from what Shepard could tell the relationship was healthy. Ashley had picked out a fucking wedding dress, for chrissakes. Shepard wondered if Liara was going to wear a dress too or if she’d wear a black dress or maybe a suit.

Shepard couldn’t see herself walking down the aisle in a white dress covered in lace and flowers and rhinestones. She absolutely could, however, see Garrus Vakarian at the end of that aisle flanked by Grunt, Wrex, Mordin, Joker, Zaeed, Jacob, Thane, Reegar, and Legion with an empty spot across from him that was meant for her with Tali, Ash, Liara, Miranda, Kasumi, Jack, EDI, and Samara as her entourage. Her fantasy was one short on the bridesmaids, maybe she could axe Jacob from the wedding party since they hadn’t parted on the best terms, but Theia skipped ahead of Shepard with a basket of flower petals.

Don’t let yourself be codependent.

Being entirely independent hadn’t been emotionally sustainable. Was there really not some middle ground she could find?

Shepard realized that several people were waiting for her to say something. She yawned and blamed it on the medicine Dr. Chakwas had given her. Miranda urged Shepard to go on and get some rest now that dinner was finished. She wanted to check up on the rest of her crew first, though.

Pilot

Steve played the recording over again.

“I’m coming to get you!” his own voice said.

“Don’t you dare! They’re everywhere, you’d just get taken too.” Robert’s voice was broken up with static.

“I can’t just sit here doing nothing!”

“You can’t stay with me!”

“Run! Get out of there! You can make it!”

“No! I can’t, Steve. But you can. Promise me.” Robert’s voice grew stern. “I love you, but I know you. Don’t make me an anchor. Promise me, Steve.”

“No… Don’t…”

Steve heard light footsteps behind him. He turned tear-filled eyes to a drowsy-looking Commander Shepard. “Commander, I didn’t see you there. This is a recording from… Ferris Fields. Months ago.”

“That’s where you lost your husband.” Shepard’s face morphed from sleepy to somber.

“I grieved, said goodbye, made my peace…” Steve leaned forward on the requisitions terminal, gripping the edges of it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I was talking to him when the Collectors hit, organizing construction at a remote station a few clicks south of the main colony.” Steve closed his eyes. “Robert managed to get outside the field the Collectors put up. Instead of running, he called me.”

“He cared about you a lot… Wanted your voice to be the last thing he heard.” Shepard blinked her eyes rapidly to clear out tears trying to fall.

“He was afraid I wouldn’t let go. But for him… I moved on. Or I thought I had.” Steve looked down at the data pad containing the recording he’d ripped from his omni-tool. “Then the invasion hits, there’s no time, and I grab this? What’s the point of moving on with your life if everything is going right the fuck to hell?” Steve rounded on the Commander who just stood there with her big, green eyes fighting tears and exhaustion.

“Start thinking that way and we’ve already lost,” Shepard replied.

“What the fuck do you know!?” Steve shouted. “Your goddamn other half is on this fucking ship! Mine is… Is…”

“Turned into Human juice and pumped inside of a Reaper that I blew up six months ago.”

“Yeah! That!” Steve balled his hands into fists. Why had it taken Shepard so long to beat the fucking Collectors? Why hadn’t she done it sooner? Wasn’t she supposed to be the best soldier the Alliance had? The first Human Spectre? Savior of the Citadel? How come she hadn’t beaten the fucking Collectors before they took Steve’s husband from him?

Shepard tapped her jaw. “You get one hit, Cortez. Make it count.”

“I have never felt as alone as I do right now.” Steve Cortez threw a punch that saw Commander Goddamn Shepard laid out on the ground.

Shepard sat up and wiggled her jaw. “Dammit, were you a boxer in a past life?.”

I just hit a woman.

I just hit Commander Shepard.

Steve held out a hand to help Shepard back to her feet. “It’s okay, Steve. You don’t have to do this alone. If you want to talk…”

“Sorry, Commander, I just…”

“It’s fine.” Shepard dusted herself off. “I get it.” She turned to lean on the terminal next to Steve. “When we first started the mission against the Collectors, I had to pull Garrus’s stupid ass off of Omega where three whole merc armies were trying to kill him. The third one almost succeeded and I… lost my shit. I slaughtered dozens of Blue Suns all by myself with a fucking hole in my goddamned side. Worse than these.” She lifted up the hem of her jacket to show stitched up wounds that were already on the mend. “You didn’t get to work out your grief behind the barrel of a gun. You didn’t get your revenge.”

“What revenge was there to get?” Steve sighed.

“I took that from you, and I’m sorry about that.”

“I appreciate it, Shepard. I really do. But… don’t worry about it, okay? When I’m in that pilot seat, I’m there one-hundred percent. I won’t fail you.”

“Down time between missions fucking sucks,” Shepard said. “You’ve gotta deal with all the emotional bullshit.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “It’s hard.”

“By the way, Steve, don’t blame yourself for leaving us at the Academy. I gave the order, and you followed it. You’re a good soldier.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better,” Steve said. “I’m just glad it all worked out.”

“Me too. Miranda showing up might have saved our asses.” Shepard crossed her arms. “When I first met her, I fucking hated her. Jack calls her ‘Cheerleader’, and she really was one for Cerberus at the beginning.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “And now she’s on our side, right? No double-agent stuff?”

Shepard shook her head. “Not since I saved her little sister and Liara revealed that her dad who tried to kidnap Oriana was on Cerberus’s payroll.”

“So… is Garrus carrying you around after missions a regular occurrence?”

Shepard chuckled. “Only when I get shot in such a manner as he thinks means I can’t walk.” She looked down at her side. “Of course, this time he was right. Before the medigel set in, those ached every time I took a step. And we had to run.”

“And… Did he really propose to you?” Steve’s curiosity got the better of him.

“I don’t actually think he was serious,” Shepard said. “We were kind of fighting, I guess? As close to fighting as we get, anyway. I really don’t know if I can do a relationship right now with this war going on and everything Hackett’s got lined up for me. And then the stupid sexy wonderful bastard just blurts out ‘Marry me’.”

“What makes you think he didn’t mean it?” Steve asked.

“Garrus is pretty by-the-book about most things, extrajudicial killings notwithstanding. So if he meant it, he’d have had everything he needed to do it right.” Shepard smiled. “I actually found out earlier today that he was taking weeks to plan out how he was going to ask me on a date before I said fuck it and just kissed him in the middle of a mission.”

Steve thought back to seeing a Turian nearly cry over the idea that Shepard might have rejected him. “Something tells me he might have been serious. Men like him don’t just say that.”

Shepard shrugged and covered her mouth as a massive yawn nearly dislocated her jaw. “We’ll see. Assuming nothing’s up with Vega, I’ll probably need to hit the hay soon. Doc put me on some meds for the gunshots that really take it out of you.”

Candidate

“Glad to see you up and about, Lola,” James said. “Though if you needed a lift to the med bay I could have handled it.”

Shepard shrugged. “I got there. That’s all that matters. I think Liara would have piggybacked my ass if I wasn’t able to take her in a straight up fistfight.”

“So Turians are where your combat skills draw the line?” James turned to lean against the wall. He eyed the pull up bar, but that approach hadn’t worked in the past.

“Oh, of course not. I beat Garrus in a fight, too. But it was kind of close. I had to use his height against him and flip him onto the ground with my legs around his neck.” Shepard chuckled softly to herself.

“Was that before or after you started sleeping with him?” James asked. Shepard’s use of her legs could have multiple meanings in that scenario.

“Way before, although I don’t see why that matters. I can still kick his ass.” Shepard crossed her arms. “I beat Krogan in fights, whether by a ring out or headbutting them so hard they flinch. If we get Wrex to come to this war summit, ask him about what happened to Gatatog Uvenk.”

“Hey, Lola, can I ask what you see in an alien? I don’t really get it. I get why some women are gay, girls are literally the pinnacle of creation, and I’ve got Esteban to explain to me why men like men. But I don’t really get the aliens thing.” James waited for Shepard to either answer him or lay into him.

She sighed. “So, it’s not really an alien thing for me. It’s like a one specific person thing.” Shepard leaned against the wall next to James with one foot up on the toe. “I don’t know. You ever meet someone and you think they’re pretty alright, but later on as you get to know them their appearance just sort of becomes them and you realize you’ve never seen anyone more beautiful?”

James pictured the predatory, threatening form of a Turian. Their small eyes sat in dark sockets under bony brow ridges. Wicked sharp teeth hid behind a nearly expressionless mouth flanked by pointed mandibles. The males had bone crests curving back over their heads like a cockatiel. The species considered six feet tall to be on the shorter side, and their hands were tipped with long talons. “You know, I can’t say I have.”

Shepard shrugged. “Then I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

“Why’d you tell Esteban to bail?”

Shepard looked up at James. “Because it wouldn’t have been safe for him to stay. With the cruiser coming back, jacking a Cerberus shuttle was the best choice since they’d have to override friendly fire protocols to nail us.”

“And do you routinely tell people to leave on missions?” James wanted an answer. She told him to leave on Mars, Liara to leave on Palaven, and now Esteban.

“Only if it’s required,” Shepard said. “I needed you to cover our escape, and you did even though I disagree with your methods. I needed Liara to try and figure out what the fuck was up with my damn ship’s AI. You’re the heavier hitter, so of course you needed to stay on Palaven. We had another way off with Miranda’s stolen shuttle, so it made sense to send Steve to safety.”

“No more telling us to leave you, got it, Lola?” James said. “I don’t like abandoning my squad.”

“Who gives the orders on this ship, Mr. Vega? You or me?” Shepard retorted. “I order you to abandon mission and save yourself, you abandon mission and save yourself. Nobody dies on my watch.” As she said the last sentence, she looked haunted.

“You give the orders, Shepard. However, if they’re stupid orders I’m not going to follow them.” James looked out at the open space in the middle of the shuttle bay. “We could go for another dance to see who gets to be on top?”

Shepard cringed. “I’m going to ignore your double entendre, and go the fuck to sleep.” She yawned widely. “Doc has me on some heavy meds for these.” She showed off her gunshots. “Don’t think they’ll scar, which is lucky. This one,” she pointed to another scar right above her hip, “came from a heavy caliber round out of a gunship.”

“If you need to think about anything in particular to help you drift off, Lola, I’m more than happy to star in any fantasies.” James smirked at her suggestively. “The real thing’s even better, though.”

“In your dreams, Vega.” Shepard started walking away and paused. “Wait. Not in your dreams. Don’t have sex dreams about me, okay?”

It’s way too late for that.

James thought about ways he’d fuck Shepard even when he was trying to focus on something else. Watching her ass while she left gave him a few more ideas. He’d like to whisper in her ear all the things he’d like to do with her, and hopefully he’d get a chance to do so. He just needed to keep on trying.

Chapter Text

Waking up to you never felt so real

Archangel

It was 0400 and Garrus Vakarian was woken up by that damn skittering noise again. He sat up and started quietly prowling around the battery to try and find what had decided to make his gun its home. It sounded small, whatever it was. He fished his scouter out of the box his armor lived in when he wasn’t wearing it and activated the thermal viewfinder.

He scoured the fucking battery, and thought for a moment he was going insane again, but he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

There, scurrying along one of the support arms. Something downright tiny, with a heart rate that gave Jane’s panic attacks a run for their money. Garrus snuck up on the small creature and captured it in his hands. It was fuzzy, frail, and startlingly familiar.

It was Jane’s fuckmothering space hamster. What was the little shit doing down here? Without its plastic ball? Didn’t the damn thing know how small it was? How easily something could have crushed it? Or burned it up? Eviscerated it? Or any number of other fates Earth animals could suffer out in space?

Garrus stalked up to the combat deck and into the cockpit. Joker was nowhere to be seen, but EDI was in the copilot’s chair.

“EDI, do you happen to know if Jane’s awake right now?” Garrus asked. He glanced down at the rodent caged in his hands. “I… found something of hers. Can’t really wait.”

“Yes, she is,” EDI said. “She has not been sleeping well since she returned to active duty. I believe a conversation with you would be amenable right now.”

“Thanks. I’ll see myself up.”

Garrus heard Jane’s room before he got there. The low bass pounded through the elevator shaft. He transferred the hamster to one hand and knocked on the door. Instantly the volume halved and Jane called out, “Who is it?”

“Jane, it’s me. I… need to talk to you.”

The door opened on Jane looking up at him and wearing the shirt Garrus had thought went missing months ago and seemingly nothing else. Like her jacket, she apparently didn’t like to keep it zipped either. Garrus could see the faint shimmer of synthetic fibers Dr. Chakwas had woven into the skin around Jane’s sternum where a Cerberus assassin had shot her with her own fucking gun.

Well… she can keep the shirt. Looks better on her, anyway.

…So much better…

Hey. Focus.

If she was wearing his old clothes, maybe whatever they were still had a fucking chance.

Garrus held up his hand with the hamster sitting on his palm. “I think this is yours. I won’t ask how he got out.”

Jane’s eyes grew very wide and very concerned. “Wait a fucking minute… Okay, someone has a fuckton of explaining to do.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“So,” Jane said, taking the hamster from Garrus and holding it in both her hands, “I got my hamster back after they let me out of jail. At least… I thought I had. They told me that he was in the Captain’s Cabin and they took him out.” She stared in open-mouthed awe at the brown, furry creature.

“So what, this little fuck decided to be an escape artist and they bought you a new hamster hoping you wouldn’t notice?” Garrus asked.

“Apparently!” Jane cried. She began to talk to the hamster in a high-pitched, girlish voice. “Oh, little guy, I am so sorry. What the hell did you eat? How didn’t you get yourself killed? Don’t worry. Once we get to the Citadel, I’ll get you a new cage and your food and those treat things you like and a new ball and I’ll take you for all the walkies.”

“I’m just glad I found him alive before I found his skeleton in the Thanix cannon.” Garrus passed a hand over his crest. “This conversation probably would have gone very differently.”

“Do you… want to come in?”

Paragon

“Do you… want to come in?” Shepard asked. “It’s kind of too late to go back to sleep, I think.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah… I kind of don’t want to be alone right now.”

Shepard wanted to tell him she’d had a nightmare, one so bone chilling that she’d been up for hours trying to force the memory of it out of her head any way she knew how. When she’d woken up, she hadn’t even been certain she was awake since the fucking dream took place in her goddamn room. Everything had been almost the same, she was looking up at the stars through her skylight. In the dream, there had been tears streaming down her face. In the dream, she’d been held down by… she wasn’t even entirely sure. Probably a faceless amalgamation of everyone who wanted or needed something from her. And in the dream she hadn’t been sure if she was getting her organs removed or…

“Okay, Jane, I’ll come in if you want me to.” Garrus stepped over the threshold.

They sat on the couch, not the bed. Shepard tucked her legs up under herself and laid her head on Garrus’s shoulder. One of his arms wrapped around her and the other rested on the back of the couch. Shepard’s space hamster, her real one, hunkered down in her palms and started cleaning his whiskers.

“I kind of wish they had a Grissom Academy for Turians growing up… I always wanted to learn how to paint.” Garrus smiled wryly into the middle distance. “Now I mostly paint walls with Reaper blood. Not the same, but it’s a living.”

Shepard snorted with laughter. “What the hell, Garrus?”

“You’re smiling. That’s all that matters.”

Aside from the eternal background noise of Shepard’s playlist, they sat in comfortable silence for a little while until Garrus broke it.

“You know, it’s nice to see Jack again. Especially now that she’s downgraded from ‘dangerous lunatic’ to ‘mildly insane’.” Garrus chuckled. “When we broke her out of Purgatory, I thought she was going to kill us.”

Shepard nodded. “Yeah. I did too.”

“At least she saw right through Cerberus.”

“We all did, at least mostly. I knew they were fucked up. I just didn’t think that they’d…”

“Turn the species they purport to champion into partially Reaper monsters?”

Shepard nodded. “Makes me wonder about…” She changed the subject. “Jack’s kids are something, huh?”

“One of the worst parts of this war is watching the kids react…” Garrus sighed. “If they’re lucky, they grew up thinking the galaxy is basically a decent place. Some rough spots here and there, but for the most part life makes sense…”

“Now they find out it was all a lie.” Shepard looked down at the space hamster in her hands. She’d grown up knowing that the galaxy wasn’t decent. Hell, her home planet wasn’t even decent once you peeled back the paint. And now she had to be the one acting like everything was fine and it was all worth saving.

Billions upon billions of people. Of course they’re worth saving.

“They wake up to see these things in the dark that just want to destroy everyone they ever cared about.” Garrus looked down at her. “If they survive, there’ll be a lot of angry orphans out there looking for answers.”

“Answers they aren’t going to get.” Shepard frowned. “I spent most of my life asking why my mom picked drugs over me. Why wasn’t I good enough? Was something wrong with me that she just didn’t love me enough?” She sniffled and tried to will the tears away again.

“Jane, please just fucking cry already. Spirits know you need it.”

Shepard cast about for something to put Gru in. Her eyes found a box under the coffee table, clear and with smooth, plastic sides the little shit couldn’t escape from. Somene, likely Liara or Ash, or maybe Sam, had some explaining to do for why her hamster was on the ship when she had been positive the damn thing died on Earth. She moved the box onto the top of the coffee table and deposited Gru into it, laying a couple of data pads on top as a makeshift enclosure.

“Stay put this time, stupid little fucker,” she said, choking on the words.

“I think he’s secure.”

“Garrus, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Shepard took a deep breath, balled her hands into fists in her lap, and all but vomited the words. “Tell me you didn’t leave your homeworld for me.”

Garrus laid a hand on her leg just above her knee. She was suddenly very aware that she didn’t have anything on under his old shirt, and was very thankful it fit her like a mini dress. “Jane, the best way to save Palaven was for me to get my ass on this ship.”

“No other reason?”

He sighed. “Sweetheart, you know I can’t lie to you.”

See? It is your fault.

“When this war summit is over…”

“I’m staying.” Garrus tightened his grip on her leg. “That weapon thing Liara found is the best bet we’ve got, and someone’s got to help you track down all the shit we need to make it. I’m not fucking up a second time.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to pick between me and Palaven.”

Garrus slipped his arm around her waist. Shepard started to relax. When he touched her like this, she could pretend that nothing had happened and everything would be okay. “I’m not picking.”

Yes you are. Please don’t act like you can lie to me.

He just said that he can’t. Why not just trust him? It’s Garrus.

Shepard flopped sideways into Garrus’s lap, curled herself up into a tiny ball, and broke down. His only reaction was to lay one hand on her hip and start running the other through her hair. “I’m here, Jane. I’ve got you.”

“Why me?” she gasped between sobs. “Or why not me? I don’t know…”

Why did her mom have to fucking OD and leave her all alone as a damn child? Why did she get picked to be some psycho’s so-called girlfriend? Why did she make it out when everyone else always fucking died? Why was she so fucking special? What made her the one who had to do all this shit by herself? How come she got picked to get resurrected from the fucking dead? Why didn’t anyone believe her? About anything? Why did that mean she had to get hurt over and over again when people didn’t like what she said? Why, when all she’d done was try to help, did it seem like she always fucked up everything she touched? Why was she even still alive? Why did she keep surviving shit that should have killed her? Why couldn’t she do any of this by herself? Why wasn’t she fast enough, strong enough, good enough to…

“Jane, I’m going to stop you right there.” Garrus took his hands away and shifted her back up to a sitting position.

“Sorry,” Shepard mumbled. She looked down at her hands in her lap and saw them stained with red. She blinked her eyes over and over, but it wasn’t going away. “I guess you probably need to go now.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not…” Garrus turned her face up to look at him. “Where’s your first aid kit? I know you’ve got one in here somewhere. Every room on the damn ship does.”

“Desk. Under the left side.”

He left the couch and was back within moments. Once her hands were clean, Shepard could see four crescent-shaped punctures in one of her palms where she’d gripped her hand so tightly she’d broken the skin. Shepard watched mutely as medigel erased the damage.

Garrus pulled her into his chest with one arm around her waist and his other hand on the back of her head. “Tell me the truth, Jane. Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Ask me to marry you again. Give me a reason to stay. “I don’t know.”

“Will you tell me if there is?”

No. “Yeah.”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah.” I love you too. So much it… it hurts…

“Do you want me to stay until morning?”

Please don’t leave me. I can’t be alone right now. I don’t trust myself. “Yeah.” Shepard settled in and snuggled closer. Garrus pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders, enveloping Shepard with one end.

“Final question, why do you keep it so cold in here?”

Shepard shrugged. “It’s not cold to a Human.” She closed her eyes and listened to Garrus’s breathing and heart, trying to make hers sync up. It never would, not truly. Human hearts had four chambers, Turians had three. The best she could get was an uneven waltz. Before she knew it, she was asleep for real this time.

Archangel

Garrus was already too awake to bother with trying to sleep. Jane’s clearly exhausted ass, however, passed out faster than he’d thought possible. Just because she was sleeping didn’t mean she was at peace, though. Jane’s heart raced, her breath hitched and stuttered like something was chasing her. She made little noises that sounded a whole lot like “no” and “stop” and “please” while clinging to Garrus like he was the one solid thing in an endless sea.

Under normal circumstances, stroking her hair would be enough to get whatever nightmare she was having to stop. This time, however, that wasn’t working. Jane was right next to him, in his damn arms for fuck’s sake, but she’d never been further from Garrus’s reach.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It’s just a nightmare. I’m here. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Except Garrus already had. He’d let Jane turn herself in when they could have just stolen away to the Terminus systems and gotten a jumpstart on turning his Commander into the pirate queen of Omega. He’d let her get tortured for information on the Illusive Ass at an Alliance blacksite prison. He’d let her have nobody waiting for her on the outside when she’d been released.

With the benefit of hindsight, Garrus hated himself for not hitching a ride to Earth, marching right up to Alliance HQ, and demanding they give Jane back to him. Fuck the Reapers. Fuck the war. Fuck his damn species for their obsession with the “proper channels” and “trusting the process”. If the damn process worked the way it was supposed to, the last several months would have gone very, very differently.

If the damn process worked at all, I never would have quit C-Sec.

Garrus and his father had taken their findings to the Primarch again and again. They’d gone through main channels, some not-so-main channels, and even back channels on the biweekly poker night Castis Vakarian had with his old friend. Garrus at least had been able to use some of the skills he’d learned getting his ass kicked by Liara at cards three years ago to get Fedorian to warm up to him.

“I’ve read your notes, seen the presentations and reports,” Fedorian said, looking from the five cards in his hand to what was laid out on the table. “The Collectors are what became of the Protheans and they were building what?”

“Based on what we saw, it looked like another Reaper,” Garrus said. “Another Sovereign, but this one was made out of Humans. We guessed that was how they work. Harvest the galaxy every fifty-thousand years or so and make new Reapers.”

“You didn’t even tell them the best part,” Lana said as she walked by with a box of crackers in her hand and a pack of cheese and sausages under her arm. “They started with Humans because Garrus’s girlfriend pissed them off by stopping the invasion the first time.”

Garrus’s blood turned to ice. He glanced rapidly from his father to the Primarch and back again. That particular part of the story had not, in fact, been told to Primarch Fedorian, since it wasn’t all that important. In fact, Garrus’s father had insisted that any mention of romantic entanglements with Spectres be totally omitted, not that Garrus would have included them anyway. The fact that he fully intended to wife the sweet, sweet ass of Commander Jane Shepard was not paramount to the security of the galaxy.

“Always wondered when you might settle down, Garrus,” Fedorian said, taking the nuclear bomb dropped onto the conversation in stride. “Guess that’s not much of an option for a man like you.”

“There’s hope for him yet,” Castis insisted. “Is your niece still single?”

“Dad, stop.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you have a decent future. You need my help after everything you–”

“Sweet fucking spirits!” Garrus threw down his cards and didn’t even notice he had the highest hand at the table. “This is exactly why mom left.”

To his credit, the Primarch kept his diplomatic calm while a family feud was building at the poker table. “Have you heard from Syrena lately? Kanna misses her.”

Hearing his mother’s first name always threw Garrus for a bit of a loop, especially since she didn’t use it at all anymore. “I’d be more than happy to pass along a message,” Garrus said while his father silently fumed across the table. For a moment, Garrus thought that veins would bust through the charcoal gray scales around Castis’s temples.

“I think she’d like that, thank you,” Fedorian said. “As for your Reaper problem, it’s not that I don’t believe you. However, I’m not the only one that has to be convinced. If we can’t get Command on your side, there’s not much I can do.”

“Sir, you’re the Primarch of Palaven,” Garrus said. “You have to be able to do something.”

Fedorian shook his head. “Not without waiting for things to make their way through the proper channels.”

“Son, just trust the process,” Castis said.

Jane stirred and shifted, pulling Garrus’s focus from staring blankly at the empty fish tanks on the wall to his alien girlfriend. Even if the process for C-Sec or dealing with damn politicians didn’t work out, he needed to trust things with Jane. She wanted time, he’d give her time. She wanted space, he’d give her space. She wanted 0400 mental breakdowns and then to use him as a pillow, Garrus would give her that too.

His omni-tool flashed and there were one-shit-million messages from Victus with questions, suggestions, appointment times for the following day, anything the Primarch could think of. Garrus had thought Jane was a workaholic, but the new Primarch seemed to be putting her to shame with just how many hours of productivity he could squeeze out of a day. He had to be abusing stims or something.

How the hell was this guy ever popular with his troops if he never let any of them fucking sleep?

“...morning…” Jane mumbled. Her eyes were bleary, bloodshot, but a little more lively than before she dozed off.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Garrus replied. He tucked her bangs behind her ear, tilted her chin up, and leaned in for a kiss before he realized what he was doing. This was not giving Jane space. He altered course and kissed her forehead instead of her velvet soft lips like he wanted to.

“You probably ought to get back down to the crew deck before people realize you’re not in the battery,” Jane said. She glanced down at his mouth briefly.

Garrus shrugged. “The only person looking for me is Victus, and I can’t think of anything else I can say to him about the Reapers that I haven’t already.”

“I hate politics,” Jane grumbled. “Without politics, none of this war summit bullshit would be happening. We’d have the fleets all under one banner ramming themselves right up the Reapers’...” she trailed off. “Do you think they have assholes or cloacas?”

There she is. That’s my girl.

“Are you going to be okay for a while?”

Jane nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna get myself cleaned up and get some breakfast. Want me to make you coffee?”

Garrus was going to say no, but his omni-tool pinged again and Victus was all but demanding a meeting with him. “I think I’m going to take you up on that. I’d do it myself, but it doesn’t quite taste the same.”

Jane gave him a weak smile. “That’s because you don’t know the secret ingredient.”

“Oh?” He raised his brow plates.

“Well I’m not going to fucking tell you,” she replied. “Then it wouldn’t be a secret.”

Chapter Text

You know where to find me if you ever feel like you need someone to lean on.

Prodigal

Shepard sat at a table on the crew deck with a disappointing looking bowl of cereal in front of her. Miranda missed the comforts of a civilian vessel, and it seemed the Commander did as well.

“No rainbow marshmallows?” Miranda said, sliding into a chair across from Shepard. The Commander looked like hell, or perhaps death warmed over. Miranda sat a cup of coffee next to Shepard’s bowl of cereal.

Shepard shook her head. “No rainbow marshmallows. Grunt would be very upset.”

“You know, I couldn’t get to you at all when the Alliance had you locked up. And I tried. I’m pretty sure we all did.” Miranda leaned forward on her elbows.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Shepard said. “I was relieved of duty, and it was… complicated.”

Miranda held up a hand. “You don’t need to explain. Liara kept us filled in as she was able. I am surprised they didn’t court-martial you, though.”

Shepard shrugged. “It would have been painfully obvious they were doing it for political points with the Batarians.”

“As opposed to the rest of the painfully obvious pandering?” Miranda asked.

Shepard shrugged. “I guess someone had to be made an example of.”

“Shepard,” Miranda began, “about Earth…”

“I found out from Diana that the entire city of Adelaide, Australia got destroyed from orbit. Four million people…”

Ah, yes… The sexed up reporter twat in the cargo hold.

Miranda didn’t feel threatened by Diana, per se, but she had a healthy respect for the press. “How’re you holding up? They tell me you were right in the middle of it when the Reapers hit.”

“I’m alright,” Shepard said. “We’ll figure something out. A way to even the odds. Liara’s got blueprints for this weapon that Hackett’s trying to build.”

Miranda nodded. “Everybody has a weakness. Even the Reapers.”

“So, I know it wasn’t just the fake Turian signal that brought you to Grissom,” Shepard said. “Why are you really here, Miranda?”

“I needed to talk to a few people, like you. And it helps that your next stop is the Citadel. I’ll be getting off there.” Miranda folded her hands. “I’ve also been trying to track down Ori. She’s gone silent, and now that I know my father works for the Illusive Ass, I think he might have found her.”

Shepard reached out a hand and laid it over Miranda’s. “I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

Miranda hung her head. “I won’t have a clear path forward until I know for sure. I have a few leads, but it’ll take some time to investigate them.”

“What’s the Illusive Ass’s angle in all this?” Shepard asked.

“Hell if I know.” Miranda looked around the crew deck where students from Grissom began milling about as a more reasonable time for breakfast had rolled around. “But it can’t be good.”

“Hackett’s got a list of Cerberus targets he wants us to hit,” Shepard said. “I’m worried Ass got himself in too deep with studying Reaper tech. That shit’s dangerous.”

Miranda recalled the crazed, near catatonic state Shepard had been in when she stumbled back onto the Normandy after being exposed to the stuff for two days. “Yes. Yes it is.”

“So where else have you been this whole time?” Shepard asked.

“Being on the run from everyone isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. And you know the Illusive Ass doesn’t take rejection well.”

Shepard smirked into her cereal. “No. He doesn’t. He also doesn’t like being invited to watch you bang your alien boyfriend on a table as one final ‘fuck you’.”

“So that explains why you broke the table, but not why. ”

“Garrus thinks I’m hot when I’m angry.”

“I’m aware,” Miranda said. “Where is he, by the way? Let me guess, calibrating?”

“Probably getting his other ear chewed off by the Primarch. That’s his new job, Reaper expert and advisor to the most powerful Turian in the galaxy.”

“It’s 0730.” Miranda scowled. “Can’t he wait for the man to eat something? Take a shower?”

“I’m convinced Victus doesn’t sleep or heavily abuses stimulants.” Shepard yawned. “Garrus was in my room last night starting at something like 0400 and he kept getting messages from Victus with questions that were ‘urgent’.” She held up her fingers for air quotes.

“Hm. I’d heard you two were on a break.”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t like that. Somehow my space hamster wound up in the battery and Garrus found him.”

Specialist

“...Somehow my space hamster wound up in the battery and Garrus found him.”

Okay, Sam. Moment of truth. Just come clean. She won’t be mad.

“Um… Commander, I might be able to shed some light on that.” Samantha stood with her hands folded behind her back and her head hanging.

“Go ahead, Sam.”

“When we started work on the Captain’s Cabin, we did take Gruyere’s cage out of there and had him in the cargo area so he didn’t inhale any dust or metal shavings, or what have you. But at some point, he must have gotten out.” Samantha shifted nervously, squirming under the Commander’s gaze. Never mind the absolutely showstopping woman across the table from Shepard. “When we reported it to Lieutenant Commander Williams, she insisted we try to find him. Said you’d be devastated if anything happened to him, and that he was your ESA. When we couldn’t, I… I panicked. I didn’t think, since hamsters really aren’t the sort of pet one handles much, that you’d be able to tell the difference.”

“Well you were right about that,” Shepard said. “I had no idea that I had a little imposter in my apartment.”

“I didn’t want to upset you, Commander.” Samantha wrung her hands. “Lieutenant Commander Williams said you were very attached to him.”

Shepard tugged the collar of her jacket to the side to reveal said space hamster nestled in the hollow behind her collarbone fast asleep. “Attached might be an understatement. He hasn’t left here since I got dressed this morning. I think he’s gone and developed separation anxiety.”

“Being captured by a six-and-a-half foot tall dinosaur-bird-man probably didn’t help,” Miranda muttered.

“Y’know, I really don’t get the whole ‘Turians are super intimidating’ thing,” Shepard said. “They’re no more intimidating than a Krogan. Or a Yahg. Either of you ever seen a fucking Yahg? They’re like eight feet tall, red, and smell like boiled crab when you douse them in lightning.”

“I’m not sure if what was up there was lightning,” Miranda said. “It didn’t sound like lightning the way Liara described it.”

“So… you’re not mad?” Samantha asked.

Shepard blinked in confusion. “Why would I be mad? I’m just happy to have found this little shit.”

“She’s a war criminal, Comm Specialist,” Miranda said. “Not a bitch.”

Chapter Text

You got rocks in your head, I can hear them rollin' round.

You can say that you're above it, but you're always fallin' down.

Paragon

Huerta Memorial Hospital was abuzz with frantic nurses and doctors treating patients, trying to coordinate supplies, and struggling to keep things afloat as more casualties poured in from battlefields across the galaxy. Shepard couldn’t tune them all out, even with her music pulsing in the background to try and distract her brain.

Miranda had disappeared the second the Normandy docked in its bay, chasing her leads on Oriana. Jack and Director Sanders took their students through customs and started planning their next assignments. Shepard and Liara left the ship to come here and check on Ash.

Dr. Michel was outside the ICU. Shepard and Liara approached her.

“Ah, Commander, Ms. T’Soni,” Dr. Michel greeted them.

“It’s… Doctor, actually,” Liara said quietly. “Though… not your kind of doctor.”

“My apologies,” Dr. Michel said. “Are you here to see our patient?”

“How’s Ash doing?” Shepard asked.

“Coming along nicely. No cognitive impairment from the concussion, but multiple shoulder fractures are still on the mend.”

Why the hell was it taking this long? Shepard had gotten her ribs broken, her chest shot out, and gods only knew how many other injuries and she’d been fine in… Shepard realized that it hadn’t been very long at all since they’d checked Ashley in at the hospital.

“Would your care team allow a visit?” Liara asked.

Dr. Michel nodded. “I’m sure that would not be a problem.”

Once inside the ICU, Shepard couldn’t help but overhear an Asari scientist saying something about biotic amp interfaces. She was on hold trying to reach someone at Grissom Academy.

“Liara, have you still got that little data drive in your pocket? The one we ripped that schematic onto?”

Liara nodded.

“Can I have it?” Shepard held out her hand. When Liara gave her the drive, Shepard approached the scientist.

“I think this might be able to help.” She held out the drive. “Grissom Academy got attacked by Cerberus, but I was able to recover what was there.”

The scientist’s eyes lit up. She ended her call and immediately started another one. “Yes, hi, I got what we needed. Tell Matriarch Atheyta that our huntresses will have their upgrades by their next shore leave.”

Shepard smiled. “If you can, tell Atheyta that Shepard and her daughter say hi.”

“It pleases me to know that my father is finally being appreciated,” Liara said as she and Shepard continued down the hallway to Ashley’s room.

“Everyone gives you shit for being half-Krogan until there’s an apocalyptic war going on,” Shepard mused.

Liara rolled her eyes. “That’s not quite how that works.”

“Hey,” Shepard said. “Don’t tell me that skull of yours can’t dish out some serious headbutts.”

“Even if it did work that way,” Liara said, “I’m only one quarter Krogan.”

Shepard wondered if Garrus’s stepmom was having to help out with the war effort. She hoped the Asari were faring better than the Humans and Turians right now, and that Illium hadn’t been hit yet. Surely having a daughter who’d only just started school would give Scoots an out from being recalled to help the war effort on Palaven even if Morana was drafted into the Asari forces.

There was still the matter of Garrus’s dad and Solana. Shepard hoped they were safe, or at least in line for a transport offworld.

When Shepard and Liara arrived at Ashley’s hospital room, Councilor Udina was inside.

“I’d like an answer, Lieutenant Commander. The galaxy has need of exceptional soldiers like you now more than ever.” Udina looked over his shoulder and scowled as Shepard and Liara entered.

“Li.” Ash sat up on her hospital bed. She looked much better. The worst of the bruises were gone. She had bandages around her shoulder. The gold chain Shepard had seen poking out of Ashley’s hand was now around her neck. There were two things hanging from it: her icon of St. Brendan the Navigator and a locket that matched the one Liara wore.

Shepard smiled as Liara pushed Councilor Udina out of the way to hug her goddamn wife. Bondmate. Whatever the right word was.

LC

“I’ve been waiting long enough,” Udina said.

“Sir, I appreciate the offer, but I do still need time to consider it.” Ashley Williams looked up at the ceiling in her room at Huerta Memorial. She’d been visited by doctors, nurses, Thane which was welcome, and now Councilor Fucking Udina. The man rubbed her the wrong way, just like with Shepard. Ashley had learned to trust Shepard’s instincts. If she thought someone was off, they were off.

The door opened behind Udina, who just repeated his fucking question. “I’d like an answer, Lieutenant Commander. The galaxy has need of exceptional soldiers like you now more than ever.”

Ashley’s attention wasn’t on the councilor, but the Asari entering the room. Eyes the color of pale violets found Ashley’s as full lips that promised the comforting dark of the deep ocean turned up in a relieved smile.

“Li.”

Liara elbowed Udina to the side, earning her a sputter of indignation. But Liara didn’t care, and neither did Ashley. She reached out towards Liara and pulled her into an embrace.

“Ashley, dear, are you okay? Dr. Michel said–”

“I’m fine, Li. Just gotta stay in bed for a little longer.” Ashley reached up and touched the locket around Liara’s neck. “We kind of skipped a few steps, didn’t we?”

“I didn’t know what else to do, and I was afraid they wouldn’t let me see you or tell me anything because we weren’t… It doesn’t matter. I don’t need some ceremony to–” Ashley cut Liara off with a kiss.

“It’s okay, Li. I’m not mad.” She looked at Udina. “You’ll have your answer soon, Councilor. Can I just have a minute to catch up with my wife?”

Udina gave Shepard some serious side-eye as he left. Ashley only now noticed that the Commander had come with Liara.

“What the fuck is his problem?” the Commander asked.

“He… asked me to be a Spectre.” Ashley still couldn’t quite believe it. She wondered if Shepard felt like then when the Council offered the Commander the position of first Human Spectre. And now Ashley Williams was looking at being the second.

Liara gasped. Shepard let out a cough.

“Well, shit. Guess we girlbossed too hard.” Shepard looked out the window in Ashley’s room. “You gonna accept?”

Ashley still wasn’t certain. “It’s a big honor, and a huge responsibility. I just… need to be sure.” Could she really measure up to Commander Shepard? Could she measure up to being on that level?

“Trust your gut, LC,” Shepard said.

Liara smoothed Ashley’s hair back from her face and kissed a scar forming at her hairline. “Don’t go getting too glamorous on me. You might decide you don’t like the quiet type.”

“Never,” Ashley said.

“When you get out of here, I’ll take you on a bar crawl. Just no tequila. Shit makes your clothes fall off.” Shepard grinned and tugged at the collar of her jacket. Ashley noticed the MIA space hamster curled up behind Shepard’s collarbone.

“Shep, where the fuck did you–”

The Commander leaned her hip against Ashey’s bed. “So, did you know Sam Traynor replaced my hamster after losing him in the cargo hold?”

Time to come clean.

“When they told me he went missing, I said you’d freak.” Ashley returned to looking at the ceiling. “Where’d you find him?”

“I didn’t. Garrus did.”

“Your hamster… was in the Thanix cannon?” Liara brought a hand to her lips. “Oh goddess. I’m glad we haven’t had to use that yet.”

Ashley burst out laughing. “Well how appropriate is that?” Of course the little critter showed back up after Shepard’s alien boyfriend got back on the ship. “How is the scaly bastard, by the way? Where’s he at?”

As Liara explained Garrus’s new role, Ashley watched Shepard’s face cycle through a series of expressions. She was proud, nostalgic, melancholy, remorseful, conflicted, even a little angry. Ashley knew that kind of anger. It was the anger a person had at themselves.

“So, Ash, how are you, really?” Shepard asked.

“Dr. Michel said she was hopeful about your progress,” Liara said. “But how do you feel right now, dear?”

Ashley sat up straighter in bed and looked around the room. Her quarters in the hospital were spacious, bright. She had her own room with a lovely view of the Presidium. “Physically I feel fine, but Dr. Michel keeps coming in to check on me. Always finds one more test.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit,” Shepard said. She let her gaze fall to the floor.

“So do you,” Ashley playfully shot back.

“We could always bust you out of here,” Liara suggested, eyeing the window. “I’m sure I can cover the damages.”

“A hospital might be a bit more than a dive bar in Nos Astra,” Ashley sighed.

“Are you waiting for news from anyone on Earth?” Shepard started shifting on her feet, getting restless. Or maybe her hamster that she fucking snuck through customs and into the hospital was tickling her. Why the hell had she done that? How the hell had she done that?

“My mom and sisters,” Ashley said sadly. She looked at her wife. “Li and I were supposed to go to my littlest sister’s wedding, but…”

“I was on an assignment,” Liara said. “Couldn’t get away.”

“My sister was on her honeymoon when the Reapers hit. Cut everything short. Her husband immediately got called to active duty and… I’m not sure what happened to him after that.”

Of all the Williams girls, Ashley had been the most suited to military life and the drive dwindled with each subsequent sibling. Her youngest sister marrying a military man had shocked them all, but standing at the end of that aisle in a pink dress holding a bouquet of roses had been worth watching her baby sister glowing with happiness.

“I hope he’s alive,” Shepard said. “For both their sakes.”

Ashley saw a familiar face walk by her room, a Drell with green and black scales. “Huh. Thane’s early for his infusion.”

“Thane?” Shepard’s head snapped up.

“Yeah,” Ashley said. “He’s here every day. Teaches a physical therapy class to help pay for his treatment. I’m supposed to be starting soon. You oughta go say hi, Shep.”

Assassin

“Hi, Thane.”

Thane turned away from the wide window overlooking the Presidium to find Commander Shepard smiling at him with her ocean-green eyes. She appeared tired, a little weary, but no worse for wear than the last time Thane had set his eyes on her.

“Siha…” Thane breathed. His chest tightened, and for a moment he thought he was going to start coughing again. His disease had progressed much too far for a transplant. At this point, he was delaying the inevitable with physical therapy and regular treatments. He sent a silent prayer to his gods for letting him see the Normandy’s warrior-angel before Kalahira took him across the endless sea. “When I heard Earth was under attack, I tried to call. I never got through.”

“That’s something of a pattern. Nobody could reach me for a while.” She scratched the back of her neck with a sheepish grin. “It’s nice to see you’re still up and about.”

“My disease kills slowly,” he reminded her. “With enough care and a healthy lifestyle, it can be delayed for a few years.” He paused and smiled to himself. “Of course, my allotted time has come and gone. Now I exercise because it pleases me.”

“I’m here visiting Ash. She got hurt getting me and Liara off of the Mars base.” Shepard looked back towards the intensive care unit. The light coming through the window caught her hair and made it shine like a flame. “I’m happy you’re here. Someone from the old crew to maybe keep tabs on her, watch out for her while I’ve got assignments.”

Thane nodded. “She’ll be starting in my physical therapy class soon.” He covered his mouth and coughed. “If your enemies try to finish her off here, I will look out for her.”

“Thanks, Thane. That means a lot.”

“I am near the end of my life. It is a good time to be generous.” Thane sighed. “Kepral’s Syndrome has put most of my other plans on hold.” He walked to a set of chairs recently vacated and sat down. Siha followed him.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” she asked. Her brows drew together and she looked from Thane’s black eyes to his chest.

He could lie to her, but Shepard would know. One of Arashu’s siha could sense falsehoods. “At times. The oxygen transfer proteins do not form correctly. Your Human equivalent is hemoglobin. As a result, my blood is low in oxygen. No matter how much I breathe in, I get tingling, numbness… and that is the best of it.”

Shepard reached over and placed her hand on his. “I’m sorry.” Her touch was warm to his blood-starved fingers.

“As for my brain, I cannot track the damage. I just experience dizziness from time to time.” Thane put his other hand on top of Shepard’s. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen that made him want to read more into her concern.

“Do you know how long you’ve got left?” Shepard appeared genuinely upset at the prospect of Thane’s passing. He wished to assuage her fears. Thane had done far better than anyone expected.

“I’ve been to several doctors over the years. My favorite one gave me three months to live. That was nine months ago. I’d taken the contract for Nassana Dantius shortly after and truly believed I would die in the Collector Base.” Thane patted her hand. “I am very glad that I did not.”

“I’m glad you didn’t either. It’s nice to see another friendly face.”

“It is… freeing to find no requirements placed on me. No responsibilities. No fears. It is a good end to a life.”

“You’re not worried or… scared?” Shepard asked. Thane was puzzled at her confusion. Why would she be confused? Her soul’s path after death was all but guaranteed. Shepard’s hands may be stained with blood, but her heart was pure. If Thane could be absolved of his sins, surely so could she.

Thane shook his head. “No. Kolyat visits me often. I have no other fears. His path is the right one for him.”

Shepard grew solemn. “I know better than to ask you to come back onto the ship with me.”

If it had even been a few short months ago, Thane would have jumped at the chance. He would have followed siha anywhere she would take him. As he was now, though… “I would not be as I was before. I need daily medical attention.”

“I know.”

Thane clasped Shepard’s hands like he had seen her do when other crew members were sad or upset. “If I know you, you’ll want to fight the Reapers. You’ll need the best at your side. I am not at mine.”

Thane found himself unexpectedly happy that siha hadn’t loved him as he still loved and admired her. He didn’t know if he could have broken her heart by telling her to leave him.

“Even if we found you something light to do? Not playing keepaway with a Krogan or anything like that.” She wasn’t being serious, but both Thane and Shepard smiled at the memory of dodging around the cargo hold with Grunt chasing them while en route to Tuchanka.

“There comes a time where one must rest from war and conflict, siha,” Thane said. “I pray that you might be able to rest one day.”

“I was born fighting, Thane. I grew up fighting. I just kept at it. I don’t think there’s any kind of retirement for someone like me.” Shepard sighed heavily and leaned forward, letting her hair fall into her face. It hung like a curtain of fire, a test one had to pass to reach the endless oceans in her eyes.

Spoken like a true siha.

Thane had done some brief study of other religious traditions to sate an academic curiosity. Human faiths had angels who were divine messengers and punishers. They were ethereal, unknowable creatures comprised of many hundreds of eyes, limbs, heads, and sometimes with bodily configurations that were impossible for organic life to comprehend. The warrior-angels of Thane’s faith were much more familiar in their presentation: women crowned with halos of fire and soaring on wings of righteous wrath.

“Do not grieve for me, Shepard,” Thane said. “I am at peace. I thank you for giving it to me.”

“I’ll be seeing you, Thane. This won’t be my last stop at the Citadel, I’m sure.”

Paragon

Ash and Liara needed some time to themselves. Thane had a class to teach. Shepard meandered through the Citadel, making a quick stop in a pet store that was miraculously still open with the war on. She decided on a whim that she’d let Gruyere pick out his new digs. The greedy little shit of course wanted the most expensive enclosure he could find, and Shepard bought it for him along with special food and lots of treats as well as a little ball containing its own miniature mass effect field generator to keep him from fitting into spots that were almost too small for him when she took him for walks around the ship.

She stopped by the docking bay to deliver her purchases and saw Garrus looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than walking with Adrien Victus towards the elevator that would take the pair of them to the Presidium. Shepard overheard something about meeting with Councilor Sparatus and trying to get Tevos on board for the war summit again.

Shepard’s eyes briefly met Garrus’s from across the docking bay and Shepard could have sworn it took real, physical effort for him to turn away and keep following the Primarch.

She still didn’t know how she was supposed to feel about last night. Passing out on her couch snuggled up to her not-boyfriend after having an emotional breakdown made her feel guilty, pissed off at herself, and yet so relieved that she’d been able to let herself actually fucking feel something.

You’re just going to get hurt again.

And you’re full of shit. Quit making excuses to justify your bullshit.

Even though she hadn’t said it back, he kept on telling her that he loved her. He kept calling her sweetheart. He kept just being there.

Shepard’s internal monologue was drowned out by her music, every single newscast calling her “the disgraced Commander Shepard”, and every last goddamn conversation she walked by. People desperately trying to find things to help the war, or help out the Citadel in some way. Power grid updates, medigel formulas, artifacts, things to boost morale… She had a full list by the time she made it to level 3, a bar named Purgatory. Aria T’Loak, the Kingpin of Omega herself, had somehow gotten Shepard’s personal email address and requested a private audience.

A pair of Turian C-Sec officers were complaining about being given “mall cop” duty outside the bar. Just inside, a gaggle of soldiers were reminiscing about a fallen comrade. An Alliance cruiser had docked and given their soldiers 48 hours of shore leave. Even more of Shepard’s drunk, dancing brothers and sisters in arms were inside the dark club. Flashing red and blue lights criss crossed the floor and the loud bass here pounded against Shepard rather than with her. She wasn’t one for clubs or dancing.

Before she found Aria, however, she ran into James at the bar down on the lower level of Purgatory.

“Hey, Commander, nice to see you down here slumming it with us grunts,” he said.

“Hey James. Have you seen an Asari around here? About yea tall, real pretty looking face tatts?” Shepard held up a hand to indicate Aria’s height.

He looked up towards the top level of the club with the dance floor and several poles around which Asari strutted and twirled. “Several. Which one? There’s a real hottie up there named Nia flirting with damn near anyone that’ll look at her.”

Shepard winced. “Ooh… back the fuck off there, marine.”

James brought a hand to his chin and made a show of examining Shepard. “Jealous, Lola?”

She shook her head. “Far from it. If you don’t want to find out why Jack’s called the psychotic biotic, you’ll steer clear.”

“Well, damn,” James pouted. “All the pretty ones are taken.”

“Not all of them,” Shepard said. Miranda, once she quit being an insufferable bitch, was objectively drop dead gorgeous, and at thirty-six more than a little man-crazy.