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Jeff "Joker" Moreau
He's confident. Maybe too confident. But Shepard knows if she's going to have anyone flying her around the depths of space, she wants it to be someone who's a bit too confident. His grin is lopsided, cocky like the angle of his hat, but there's something else there. He's overcompensating. He sits in the pilot's seat like it's a throne and it may as well be for the command he demands while perched in it. His fingers fly across the screens that surround him when he enters in coordinates like he's playing a game. It's a game he's only ever won at, and Shepard knows he isn't likely to fail any time soon.
Kaidan Alenko
He’s cast in a warm red glow from the terminal he leans over, sweat on his dark brow. He’s focused, always focused on whatever task is in front of him. It scares her sometimes, the intensity of his stares, the way he refuses to look away from her when they’re talking. Shepard doesn’t know him well yet, but he’s never flinched from an assignment, never looked ready to run. He wipes the back of his hand over his forehead and looks up. There’s that staring again. He seems like he wants to apologize for it, but Shepard doesn’t want that. She wants him to do something more worth apologizing for. She’s never been one to care much for rules, but breaking them with him might be the best idea she’s ever had. But for now she knows she has to keep her distance. She’ll do the staring for a while.
Ashley Williams
She’s a streak of pink and white armor being chased by geth. The woman watches as a member of her team is impaled on a mechanical spike that seems to grow sickeningly from the ground through his stomach. She balks, frozen for a second before running. She takes cover behind an outcropping of rock and holds her weapon to her chest, ready to fight. She’s out of breath and overwhelmed. But she’s still standing. She tips her head back in frustration because she wants to keep going but she knows she’s out of her depth. There's a fight going through her head, a struggle to keep put when she wants nothing more than to run out, guns blazing. There's fire in her eyes that is filled with either recklessness or revenge, but Shepard thinks it’s good either way. She could use more hardheaded people on her ship.
Garrus Vakarian
He’s arguing with his C-Sec superior and Shepard likes him already. Diplomatic tensions between the turians and humans often run high, but Shepard has never been one to judge someone before seeing them in action. He has everything going against him: the turian officer who supposedly botched the Saren investigation. But Shepard knows better. And right now this turian seems to be the only person on the whole damn Citadel besides herself who thinks Saren’s dirty. Like a bird of prey, his eyes narrow on his target. She wonders what’s flashing through his visor, what information is streaming past that he’s surely taking in even as he focuses on his current task. He’s full of pent up frustrations, mandibles flaring as he argues his point, begging his boss to see reason. He’s obviously outgrown the rigid rules and bureaucracy of C-Sec, and Shepard thinks there may be a place for him on her team. Regulations that let bad people go free and drag good people down have no place under Shepard’s command. She isn’t afraid of making a few enemies in the name of justice, especially if it gets the job done. Garrus seems intent on doing just that.
Tali’Zorah nar Rayya
She’s cornered in the hallway. Why are they always cornered in a hallway? Shepard reaches for her pistol to deal with the thugs, but soon realizes her assistance isn’t needed. The quarian is more than capable. She pulls something from her belt, and before Shep can even cover her eyes, the attackers fall back in an explosion of crackling tech and fire. The quarian moves like the silky material that covers her suit, liquid limbs not wasting an ounce of energy as she dodges the blast. She is artistry mixed with utility. The purple and silver swirls of color cover an intricate web of protection. Shepard looks on as the curious girl stands over her unconscious attackers and puts one thin arm to her hip as if in challenge. Can I help you? she seems to say. And Shepard thinks she certainly can.
Urdnot Wrex
The krogan is surrounded by people on all sides, but the size of the crowd is nothing compared to him. Even with a mob nearby, his sheer size outnumbers them all. Red eyes match his armor, dark like blood. Shepard wonders if any other alien species have red blood too or if the color is only intimidating to humans. He cuts an impressive figure nonetheless. Built like a hunchback crossed with a turtle. But deadly. She’s certain he’ll snap if they get too close, figuratively and literally. Yet… there’s something more to him. He’s not just a brute, built to brawl. He’s seen things; she can see it behind those battle scars that run across his plating and face, that it’s not just from fighting. There’s something more to him, and she’s determined to figure it out.
Liara T’Soni
The asari is held up by invisible bindings, arms stretched out like a religious metaphor that isn’t part of her mythology. A sacrificial lamb, a virginal offering to the hunters who left their trap behind eons ago. Her skin is blue like the majority of the asari Shepard has met, but it’s hard to tell how much of that is her and how much is from the glow of the prothean security device she’s trapped in. Her full cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles. She looks so young, though Shepard knows she must be decades older than her; she’s never met an asari her age before. Her expression carries the bright-eyed excitement of youth but also the restraint and wisdom that only comes with age. Shepard can’t pin her down. She’s riddled with contradictions that unsettle and excite her. Her round face is comfortingly human-like in appearance, but all at once Shepard remembers that the asari predate humans. It’s she who is the alien here. The asari hasn’t said anything yet and still she’s teaching Shepard to look at things differently. And now that she sees them, she’s desperately crying out for help. It’s Shepard who answers her call.
Bonus:
Shepard, who was always too much
Everything about her was too something. Too commanding. Too stubborn. Too confident. She always had a bit of a frown, a bit of a furrow. She stepped on people’s toes, and not just when she was dancing (where she was always too clumsy). Her chin was too proud, her eyes too narrowed.
But that’s not how she was remembered.
More than any other of her too’s, Shepard was always too generous. It was her best and worst characteristic. She gave pieces of herself to build up the people around her until one day she handed over everything. Until her too’s became part of something else, something bigger. She became too great to keep in this world.