Chapter Text
On this mission to recruit this batarian Blue Suns Legionnaire, Shepard wasn't sure what to expect. He had never worked with a batarian before and wasn't sure what to make of the possibility of this unusual alliance. He had yet to meet a batarian who didn't hold some particular hatred or grudge against humanity. And here we have one actively working for Cerberus...
Shepard had to put his musings on hold when the entrance doors of the Blue Suns base opened. The Commander was first to investigate the room, his M-15 Vindicator was raised, his eyes swept across the area in front of him to see that the room was empty. Parts of the wall and ceiling had collapsed into chunks that now littered across the floor. Electrical fires had sparked to life from the overloaded terminals on the walls. He noticed the bullet holes that peppered the walls, the burnt smear against the entrance door. An incinerator blast, he reckoned, but despite this being a battlefield he saw no bodies.
"I got blood over here, Shepard!"
Miranda's voice broke through Shepard's reflective study of the room. He found her beside a turned over desk, crouched over a small pool of dark blue blood.
"It's turian," Garrus observed, standing over them.
"There's a blood trail," Miranda gestured to the few drops of bluish blood, a short distance from the puddle. The blood was smudged across the floor, leading off to the only other door in the entrance room.
The door that will take us deeper into the Blue Sun's base. When he opened his mouth to give the order for them to advance the door in front of them opened with a slight swish. It revealed a single bloodied and beaten turian, dressed in Blue Suns gear. He hadn't taken two steps before he shouted in pain, falling onto the ground. The back of his armor was smoldering, revealing the grouping of bullets that had penetrated through the turian's kinetic barriers and armor.
"Shit," Shepard cursed, finding cover along the wall that was beside the door that the turian had just run out of. Garrus and Miranda took shelter behind the tossed desk. However, once the turian hit the ground, there had been no other shots fired, nor could Shepard hear any advancing footsteps from those who had gunned down the turian.
"Nobody's in the corridor," Garrus pointed out, using the scope of his M-92 Mantis to scout the room beyond the one they were standing in.
That was good enough for Shepard. Peeling away from the wall with his M-15 Vindicator in hand; he looked out into the corridor to see a pair of doors at the other end. "Come on we need to move."
"Ahh, investigating creepy mercenary bases," Garrus mused. "This is definitely like old times, Shepard."
"This does sound awfully familiar," agreed Shepard, who couldn't help but smile despite their grim surroundings.
"Were you two this obnoxious and loud during those missions too?" Miranda asked dryly.
"I like to think I wasn't that obnoxious back then."
"That's because you had nothing to be obnoxious about, Garrus," Shepard replied, "Unless the contest was who could file the most C-Sec forms in under an hour."
"Hah-hah," Garrus called from behind Shepard. "By the way I own that record. Its two forms in one hour!"
"You gotta love bureaucracy," Shepard chuckled, knowing there was no love lost between his best friend and his former employer, C-Sec.
"Almost as much as this current conversation," drawled Miranda.
They arrived at the doors at the end of the corridor. He was careful to stop far enough away from the doors so that their motion sensors couldn't pick up on his presence.
"Be on guard," he called over his shoulder, hearing their affirmative responses, they advanced.
The doors opened to reveal a small rectangular shaped room. The room was uneventful besides a large stack of crates stacked against one of the walls while the room's right-side wall was made up of glass paneling. Shepard cautiously stepped forward towards the glass paneling to realize that it gave him a bird's eye view of the large room below which looked like some sort of storage warehouse. There were hundreds of crates stacked, packed, lining, and littering the room below.
He was sure the crates below belonged to the numerous frigates and other ships that the Blue Suns had robbed by using their fake distress signal. Catching movement, Shepard realized there was more than just crates down in the room below. A handful of Blue Suns could be seen carefully moving along the rows of crates. Looks like they're taking cover, he didn't need to wait long to see what they were taking cover from as he spotted a group of mechs marching in the direction of the mercenaries.
"Those are Blue Sun mechs," Garrus pointed out, "and they're hunting Blue Suns," he chuckled, "Serves the bastards right." His dealings with the Blue Suns from his time in Omega did not make him sympathetic to the mercenary's current plight.
The Blue Suns were trying to stave off the mechs, but they didn't have the firepower to go up against the Y-MIR Mech that was accompanying the smaller LOKI Mechs. The mercenaries were killed by an explosive bombardment from the Y-MIR Mech's cannon.
"It seems our friend is handling the situation well enough," Miranda said.
Shepard agreed, it appeared this Drek was more than capable of defending himself against the mercenaries, but they still needed to come up with a plan to get to the batarian which would not be easy with both Blue Suns mercenaries and mechs standing between them.
"Damn it, Drek!" An angry and loud voice blared from overhead speakers. "You can't remain barricaded in that office! We have the area surrounded! Now surrender in the cafeteria and you might be shown some mercy."
"Well, it looks as if we have a location," Garrus said.
"And a direction," Miranda added, she was able to bring up a three-dimensional layout of the Blue Suns base from her Omni-Tool.
"Well let's not keep our recruit waiting."
Shepard didn't track how long it took him and his companions to reach the area surrounding the cafeteria, knowing that they did have to climb a few stairwells and avoid handfuls of both mechs and mercenaries. Since they didn't want to be tracked by either, wanting the element of surprise in dealing with the Blue Suns mercenaries and they were still unsure if Drek's hacked mechs would see Shepard and company as friends or potential foes.
The two humans and turian stopped inside one of the last remaining rooms that gave them some buffer between the hostile forces they were sure to meet beyond these doors.
Miranda was quick to call up her Omni-Tool to access the lay-out of the base. "According to this map, these doors should take us down a corridor that will lead us right to the cafeteria."
"We should expect resistance," Shepard instructed his team, "From both sides."
"When have we ever had a peaceful mission, Shepard?" Garrus asked, handling his own assault rifle.
Shepard, once more had to agree with his friend's jovial observation. It seemed no matter what mission he was assigned, asked, or stumbled onto, he had never gone through any mission without at one point or another having to use his weapon. "Well, let's hope that the mechs have taken out most of the Blue Suns."
"And who will take out the mechs?"
Shepard turned to Garrus. "Weren't you just recently bragging about the new Tech commands you had installed to your Omni-Tool?"
Garrus looked down at the mention of the Omni-Tool, as it glowed a soft orange, before turning back to Shepard. "Well, I'm glad to know you still listen, Shepard."
Shepard smiled. Retrieving a grenade from his belt, he approached the door, sensing his presence it opened, catching off-guard a handful of Blue Suns mercenaries in the corridor, without further wait, Shepard tossed he grenade into the hallway. It skidded and bounced towards the unsuspecting mercenaries who had enough time to look down the hallway to see the grenade coming in their direction before it went off. The force of the explosion shook the corridor, the blossoms of flames engulfing the mercenaries, whose shouts and cries of pain were drowned out at their quick deaths.
"Scratch one," Garrus remarked, the turian entered the smoking corridor, rifle raised and ready for any approaching mercenaries from the other end. None came, knowing that time was of the essence, Shepard led the squad forward, their steps quick in not wanting to be trapped in the corridor like the mercenaries who they just killed.
"The cafeteria is just up ahead," Miranda relayed, as the trio exited the corridor without meeting further resistance from the Blue Suns.
"We got company," Garrus called, signaling with his rifle to the handful of Blue Suns mercenaries who were standing between them and the cafeteria. The turian was quick to peel away from Shepard and Miranda, taking position behind a turned over table to handle his beloved sniper rifle.
Miranda, had her pistol drawn, her body alit with her biotics as she called on a powerful warp to take down the two turian mercenaries in front. Shepard favoring his assault rifle emptied his incendiary clip into a pair of batarians, tearing through shields and armor, their smoldering bodies falling to the floor. A précised headshot from Garrus took out the remaining mercenary, whose shields didn't stand a chance.
"That was almost too easy," Garrus said, admiring his work.
"You can pat yourself on the back once we have Drek," Miranda called over her shoulder.
Shepard was pleased with the almost friendly bantering between Garrus and Miranda. He had been wary about using them together, even after they assured him of this supposed 'truce' that they had agreed to, for the sake of their mission against the Collectors. However, seeing them working together without need of cursing or staring and actually acting and speaking cordially with one another was a welcome sight for the Commander.
"We got more mercenaries incoming."
Miranda's warning brought Shepard out of his thoughts, looking up to see advancing Blue Suns beginning to flood the room from an adjoining door. Shepard found cover behind a stack of crates where he watched two mercenaries get picked apart by Miranda's impressive biotics. When the flooding mercenaries targeted Miranda from her exposed position, it was Garrus who was able to provide a round of cover fire, allowing the Operative enough time to find shelter behind a counter.
These mercenaries didn't lack confidence as they inched closer and closer towards Shepard's squad's position at the far side of the room. Their numbers gave them a key advantage by allowing them to provide heavy cover fire pinning down Shepard and company to allow their brethren to advance unopposed.
"You got any bright ideas, Shepard?" Garrus shouted, from his position a few meters away from Shepard.
"Yeah," Shepard gritted his teeth, unclipping a grenade, he risked a glance from his cover, and finding a potential target, he tossed the weapon, watching as it bounced along the floor before stopping at the feet of one of the turian Blue Suns. The mercenary had enough time to look down at what it stepped on before the grenade detonated, swallowing up the turian in an impressive fiery display while sending the handful of mercenaries around it flying backwards.
Shepard stood up, and unloaded his assault rifle with Miranda and Garrus quick to join in the assault now that they were no longer being pinned down. The trio made short work of the remaining mercenaries and when the last one fell to Shepard's rifle, he turned to his turian friend.
"Just follow my lead."
Garrus chuckled, shaking his head while he switched from his sniper rifle to his assault rifle. "Yeah, that only led me into an army of Geth."
"You survived," Shepard countered, holstering his rifle for his shotgun, expecting close range fighting once the squad arrived in the cafeteria. Not waiting for his friend's clever reply he moved forward towards the door that would lead them into the cafeteria. Sensing his presence, the doors opened to reveal a chaotic battle unfolding before him between the mechs and Blue Suns.
Even though the mechs seemed outnumbered, they were holding their own against the Blue Suns who were trying to break through the mech's ranks. He noticed that the mechs were centered at the opposite side of the cafeteria, protecting a door that Shepard was willing to bet that was where he would find Drek.
The nearest target for Shepard and company were the Blue Suns whose attention remained on the mechs, undistracted and unyielding as they tried to advance forward towards Drek's position.
Shepard was quick to take advantage of the element of surprise, lowering his shotgun; he opened fire on an unsuspecting Blue Sun who had been trying to take shelter from a mech onslaught. The round tore through the Blue Suns armor, the mercenary shouted in pain before collapsing on his stomach.
Miranda used a well placed Overload on a shielded Blue Suns legionnaire, who stumbled backwards from the surprised attack and jumping out of cover, he was quickly picked off by mechs. Garrus emptied a clip of his assault rifle into a trio of Blue Suns engineers who had been trying unsuccessfully to direct their drones against the mechs. Their light armor didn't stand a chance against Garrus' précised customary armor-piercing rounds, as the engineers slumped to the ground, their drones fizzling out of existence when the last engineer fell.
Shepard led them forward behind a row of turned over cafeteria tables, shielding them from the Blue Suns to their left and the mechs straight ahead of them. By now both sides were aware of Shepard's arrival, and the Blue Suns were more incensed by their intrusion, as several of their mercenaries peeled off their attack from the mechs to try to advance towards Shepard. The advance was slow as the mercenaries had to be patient and careful as they navigated through the cafeteria trying not to be picked off by the mechs or Shepard's own company.
"So which lethal enemy force should I be concentrating on, Shepard?" Garrus asked, crouching beside the Commander.
"Blue Suns," he answered, without hesitation, knowing that the mercenaries posed the more imminent threat to their mission.
Garrus gave him a nod, before switching back to his sniper rifle, resting it carefully in a nook on the table; he looked through the scope before opening fire on any encroaching mercenaries.
Miranda, who had taken cover on Shepard's other side, assisted in Garrus' sniper efforts by picking apart mercenaries who were trying to take shelter behind the large columns that supported the cafeteria.
Shepard, not wanting to be outdone by his two friends, took aim with his assault rifle and fired at the nearest mercenaries, pleased at the handful of mercenaries he had hit when it was time for him to empty his clip and reload.
With the combined effort of the mech's numbers and the skills of Shepard's elite company, the Blue Suns were overwhelmed and the two sides were able to make quick work of the remaining mercenaries. When the last Blue Sun fell, the mechs turned their focus on their position, but none of them made any attempt to open fire on any of them.
One of the mechs stepped forward, its unblinking red light gazing at Shepard as it spoke in its automated voice."Identify yourself."
"I'm Commander John Shepard."
The mech took a few seconds to process this information. "What is a human Spectre doing at this base?"
"I'm looking for Drek Vharad," Shepard answered, standing up from his position, he raised his hands to show that he meant no harm. He surveyed the surviving mechs, counting less than a dozen mechs including one heavy mech. All of them were gazing up at him with those unblinking red eyed gaze.
The door that the mechs had been so adamant on protecting from the Blue Suns, slid open to reveal a lone batarian dressed in Blue Suns armor stride out. The towering batarian was well armed, and as he walked deeper into the cafeteria and closer to Shepard, the mechs he passed were quick to trail behind him.
"Is that so?"
"Drek Vharad, I presume?" Shepard asked, studying the batarian, who stopped just below Shepard's position with the row of mechs standing behind him.
Drek gave a crisp nod, "I suppose I should be flattered that the Butcher of Torfan knows me by name."
"And grateful for saving your ass," Miranda glowered.
Drek looked at Miranda for barely a second before returning his four eyes to Shepard. "And who said, that I needed any help?"
Shepard crossed his arms before answering, "Cerberus."
Drek seemed to be reflecting on this information before slowly nodding. "It seems the rumors were true about your newfound allegiance, Shepard."
"That's right," Shepard agreed. "I'm building a team, and I need the best for this suicide mission and Cerberus believes that you're one such individual that I could use."
A look of amusement seemed to flitter across the batarian's features, but Shepard couldn't be too sure.
"So you're actually recruiting me?"
"Yeah," Shepard paused, looking at the mechs that the skilled batarian was controlling. It was hard to argue that this Legionnaire had the qualifications to join Shepard's team and if his AI hacking skills were any near as good as his other tech skills, then Shepard would be a fool to pass on him. "I suppose I am."
Drek chuckled, shaking his head, before offering the first human Spectre a shrug, "who am I to refuse an offer from the Butcher of Torfan?" He drew up his Omni-Tool, his fingers dancing on the interface and with a few clicks from his Omni-Tool. He looked back up to face Shepard. "I suggest we get going, this base is going to blow in ten minutes."
"Is there any particular reason why we need to blow up this base?" Miranda asked.
"Yeah," Drek answered, never taking his eyes off Shepard. "I need them to think, I'm dead."
Undeterred by the news of the base's imminent explosion, or Drek's insistence on faking his death, Shepard gestured to the door that he and the others had come through. "Then let's not waste a minute."
John Shepard surveyed his newest squad member with a stoic, cool demeanor while on the inside he couldn't deny a growing interest and curiosity for the Cerberus informant known as Drek. The batarian hadn't spoken a word to any of them since they left the Blue Suns base. Now the Commander, Miranda, Garrus, and Drek stood in silence within the communication room. Garrus and Miranda standing on one side of the table while Drek stood on the other with Shepard standing in front of the door; all eyes remained on the batarian, whose four eyes were surveying the room around him, before they rested on Shepard.
"This is quite some ship you have here, Shepard," Drek remarked, leaning against the wall. "I take it from the stares and the whispers that I'm the only batarian on-board?"
"That's right," Shepard nodded, "but you're not the only alien."
"I realized that," Drek gestured to Garrus, before his voice took an edge when he added. "Despite how your propaganda may depict my people, we are not so dim."
"I wasn't trying to insult you."
Drek clenched his jaw, his intimidating four eyed stare on Shepard, before nodding, his demeanor shifting away from hostility. "I reckon that there are other non-humans on-board as well?"
"Yes, we have a salarian scientist as well," Shepard revealed, relieved to move on from his previous misstep. "And I'm sure that we will be collecting a few more before this mission is done."
"You called this a suicide mission," Drek pointed out.
"That's what I was told it was."
"And you don't think it is?"
Shepard shrugged, "let's just say, I don't plan on dying."
Drek chuckled, "I like that," he then turned to Miranda and Garrus. "Do they not speak?"
Miranda frowned, but when she spoke, her tone was controlled. "I'm Miranda Lawson, the XO on this ship, and the personal liaison of the Illusive Man."
Miranda's introduction caused Drek's attention to remain on Miranda, surveying the operative closely. No doubt the Cerberus informant was interested and curious with her supposed position and close connection with the Head of Cerberus. "I'll remember that, since I have a few things I need to report to him."
"So you really are a Cerberus informant?" Garrus asked, not bothering to hide his disbelief at the possibility.
"I suppose, that's a difficult concept to accept," Drek remarked, "but, yes, I've been working for Cerberus these last two years."
"Is that why the Blue Suns were after you?" Hypothesized Shepard. "Did they realize that you had turned on them for Cerberus?"
"No, not at all," Drek answered. "They were after me, because a bounty was put on my head by the Hegemony."
"What did you do to piss off your government?"
Drek bristled at Shepard's question, a frown returning to his lips. "They're not my government."
Shepard held up his arms, detecting the hostility radiating from Drek by his previous question. "My apologies, I didn't mean to offend." Realizing, that this wasn't getting off to a good start, after his first two missteps with Drek, he hoped to clarify his curiosity and his position to the batarian. "But if we're going to work together, I need to know a little bit about you."
Drek relaxed his stance before nodding, looking to have agreed with Shepard's observation. "I suppose that's only fair, after all, I know so much about you."
"My reputation always seems to precede me, when it comes to your people," Shepard noted dryly. He had yet to come across a batarian that was unaware of Shepard's actions at either Elysium or Torfan.
The corner of Drek's lips tugged upwards, looking amused at his remark. "You have no idea, Shepard."
"Why was a bounty put on your head by the Hegemony?" Miranda asked, stepping into the conversation.
"Because it had recently come to their attention that I had taken some very important and secretive files from one of their government mainframes."
"What kind of information was contained on these files?"
"Very important ones," Drek responded. "I had already been made aware of the information on these files, years ago, but your Illusive Man wanted more information. He believed it was paramount to your fight against the Collectors."
Shepard's interest peeked with each passing answer Drek gave, as well as a level of annoyance since Drek seemed to want to take his time with sharing the important information.
"It's about the Collectors?" Garrus guessed.
"Oh, no," Drek shook his head. "It's more important than mere Collectors. Tell me Shepard are you familiar with the story of the Leviathan?"
Shepard frowned at the familiarly of the name, but was unable to place the story behind it, turning to Garrus and Miranda, neither offering any answer to Drek's question.
"In 2163 a ship was found in a crater on the planet known as Jartar in the Dis System. It's origins unknown, but the salarian researchers who briefly studied the ship estimated it to be over millions of years old. Shortly, after its discovery, a batarian dreadnought visited the Dis system, and the mysterious ancient ship was never seen again…"
"A Reaper," Shepard breathed at this startling revelation. All of his warnings, all of his evidence could against the Reapers paled in comparison to this actual, vivid and hopefully undeniable proof of their existence, and all this time it was being contained by the self-inflicting isolated government known as the Batarian Hegemony. If this ship or information could be used as actual proof to his claims of Sovereign and the pending Reaper invasion, then the Council could no longer look a blind eye and would be forced to take this situation seriously.
"Wait, a second," Garrus said, his talons scratching the underneath skin of his chin. "You mean to tell me, that the Batarian government has been actively studying a real Reaper these past years?"
"Yes," Drek affirmed. "It's the top-most secret in the government's archives. Very few of its politicians are even aware of its existence."
"Then how did you become aware of it?" Miranda asked, maintaining an indifferent façade at this starling news of an existing Reaper
Shepard noticed the subtle change in the batarian's expression and demeanor at Miranda's question. His fingers gripping the edge of the table, the glowering expression, and the darkening of his eyes. Shepard was sure that the batarian was trying to pent up some simmering anger that was threatening to break through, but why Drek was so angry or bothered was another thing entirely.
"My older brother," Drek growled, his mood was deteriorating rapidly. "He was a scientist studying the Leviathan in the early stages of its discovery….He believed the technology should be shared, the Hegemony disagreed."
Shepard didn't need the batarian to say the words to understand what he was referring to. Drek's brother was killed by disagreeing with his conservative and controlling government. The Commander was met with a dilemma, he was increasingly curious about the details of the Leviathan, but he also sensed the information involving the Reaper was incredibly sensitive and emotionally entangled with Drek. He reluctantly realized that at this moment, it would not be the best course of action to press the still unknowing variable and ally known as Drek. He knew that he would have plenty of time to hopefully further discuss the Leviathan and Drek's Cerberus dealings. He just had to be patient.
"Very well," Shepard cut-in on behalf of Drek, stepping around the table to approach Drek, while the batarian was watching him warily, but Shepard stopped within arm's reach of the Blue Suns Mercenary. He held out his hand. "Welcome to the team, Drek."
Drek studied Shepard's extended hand, before his eyes returned to Shepard, who noticed the lower set of the batarian's eyes were still on his hand, but Drek slowly extended his own hand and shook the Commander. "If the Batarian Hegemony hated me before, I'm sure they'll hate me even more knowing that I'm teaming up with you."
The Citadel was not at all as Shepard remembered it. The first human Spectre had already found himself lost a few times since he took to wandering along the districts alone, in the past hour. He had wanted some time to himself to prepare for his upcoming meeting with Anderson at the Presidium. However, his meeting with Anderson had been pushed back a few hours, but instead of returning to The Normandy to wait, Shepard had decided to explore the newly built areas of the Citadel.
A place which held so many complicated memories for the Commander. This was where the previous Citadel Council had made him the first human Spectre, this was where he fought and defeated Saren and Sovereign. However, there were no signs of the previous and desperate battle against the Geth which had killed millions, destroying countless buildings, and puncturing the myth that the Council and the Citadel were impenetrable.
In the time after beating Saren, thwarting Sovereign, and sacrificing the first Council, Commander Shepard had begun an intimate and complicated relationship with Cerberus Operative Miranda Lawson which started on this very station. Two years later, it had only become more complicated with her bringing him back to life and both of them assigned to this Suicide Mission. Even amidst the adversity stacked against them, they were both willing to try to pursue a relationship, because they both remembered their brief time spent together before his death. The unusual feelings of content, happiness, and pleasure that neither had experienced in other relationships, this had helped to drive the aloof Cerberus Operative and the Stoic Alliance Poster-Boy right into each other's arms.
Shepard had hoped that he would be able to spend some alone time with Miranda, while they were docked on the Citadel. Spending a quiet evening in one of the many opulent hotels in the Presidium District, putting the tab on Cerberus only sweetened the idea. Sadly, at the moment, Miranda was over- seeing some early upgrades onto the Normandy.
This included a new paint job. For reasons Shepard could only guess, Cerberus had decided to plaster their symbol on every wall, door, space, and crevice on the Normandy both inside and out. Seeing as they were a terrorist organization and were wanted by both the Council and the Alliance, Shepard knew that advertising Cerberus colors on his frigate would only lead to future problems. He was thankful when Miranda agreed to his request and decided to oversee the task herself, in removing the unneeded symbols of Cerberus on both the inside and outside of The Normandy.
He was aware of the realization that by agreeing to his request, it would make it impossible for him and her to sneak away in their brief stay within the Citadel. However, he would not dwell on the inconvenience, he still had much to accomplish in his brief visit to the Citadel and could not allow himself to get distracted.
He had been annoyed when he was first told that his meeting with Anderson had been pushed back an hour. He had thought about returning to the Normandy or seeking out Garrus to share a drink and a much needed conversation. His time in Omega had changed Garrus, and this betrayal from Sidonis may have permanently lost Shepard his oldest and most trusted friend…
Shepard sighed, rubbing his weary eyes while he continued his walk through the Presidium of the Citadel. He hadn't lost Garrus, nor did he tend to. He understood the conflicting whirlpool of emotions that raged within his friend, and he was not going to fault him for this anger or his need for vengeance on this Sidonis. Shepard was sure if their roles were reversed, and he was the one who was betrayed, that he too would seek out vengeance.
Shepard stopped in his stroll when he reached the railing, so that he could overlook the beauty of the Citadel Lake. He leaned on the railing, and was content in simply watching the clear water below. The peace that surrounded this place was deceptive, outside of this system; humans were disappearing in the thousands, and hundreds of thousands and soon to be millions. But around here, no one seemed to give a damn, not the Council, not the Alliance, not even the hundreds of thousands of humans who occupied this galactic capital. To them, it was nothing but an inconvenience to their perfect little lives, something to threaten and tear down this pseudo protection that they wrapped themselves in.
Sometimes, when Shepard looked back on that battle of the Citadel, he wondered if it had not been better if the geth had been successful in purging the station; removing every last life on this station, whether they were innocent or corrupt from this station. In hopes that maybe then, could they have successfully rebuilt on the ashes of those who had perished, that true justice could be allowed to flourish. Maybe then they learn from their mistakes and force themselves to confront the ugly reality that stood in front of them. But they didn't, and because the same people were still in charge, the cycle was allowed to repeat itself.
These were the dark and desperate thoughts of a bitter soldier who had been the target of praise and scorn to these types of people. He had won the hearts and adulation of so many after his 'heroic' stand at Elysium, but those same people who had cheered and heaped praise upon him, turned against him after Torfan. They saw him as a Butcher, who on that moon in that horrible battle, they claimed he was a man who had fallen in love with his own legacy, and in doing so had allowed his platoon to all but be wiped out.
He pushed away those thoughts, not wanting a headache before his meeting with Anderson. He stared down at his reflection, remembering the time when he came here after Eden Prime. A battle that had thrust him back into the spotlight, and back into focus for public and political dissection. He was a soldier, who had survived a terrible battle only to be dropped into an even more savage and bloodthirsty arena-politics.
Those had been dark times for Commander John Shepard, but in that time, he had found a friend. Someone who offered him a gift, an encouraging reminder of what lay ahead of him, of what was asked of him, and what was needed of him. It had been this refreshing voice and perspective which helped the stoic Commander regain his clarity and return his efforts into stopping Saren. The reminder of this particular friend brought a smile to his lips and a destination for him to get to, taking one last look at the peaceful lake. He headed back into the Presidium District.
He had never forgotten the brief, but impactful words she had given him after he had helped her in a very delicate and personal matter.
"I offer a gift of words, an affirmation of who you are, and who you will become. I see you, your uniform fits as though you were born wearing it. You are a soldier through and through."
He was the son of two Alliance Officers. A boy who spent his youth on warships and frigates, around marines and officers, lived throughout the galaxy within numerous bases. Battle, war, strategy, duty, order, discipline, this was what his childhood education consisted of. He had enlisted on his eighteenth birthday, from there he excelled in his education and training, and would be one of the few who successfully graduated from the famously difficult, but highly touted N-7 program.
"Proud, solitary, alone-
A wall between you and everyone else, but it protects you, makes you strong. It is that strength that people are drawn to, it is why you lead and others follow without question. You will need that leadership in the battles to come."
His accomplishments had made him proud, and the difficulty and pressure that his life offered him, made it easier for him to push others away. Making it difficult for him to have a deep personal relationship or any deep friendships inside or outside of the Alliance; so instead, the Commander chose to isolate himself. Her last sentence rang particularly true to him, knowing that without his leadership he would have been unable to stem the tide at Elysium. He would have been unable to rally civilians to stop the raiders. Knowing that without his leadership, he wouldn't have been successful in stirring confidence within his own men, within his platoon, to believe and follow him against all odds in the trenches of Torfan.
"This may be who you are, but it is not who you will become. It only forms the basis for your future greatness.
Remember these words when doubt descends, Commander."
Evidence in these words was beginning to appear in his life. The stoic and distant Commander had been slowly lowering his guard and allowing select few individuals in. Miranda, Garrus, Wrex, Liara, Tali, Joker, were the immediate names to come to mind, further strengthening her words. He did take strength and comfort in the presence of his friends, learning to rely and trust on them during his days of chasing Saren.
He took strength in these words, remembering his own doubts and confusion in the beginning of his relationship with Miranda. Unsure about the emotional entanglements that could result in an ensuing relationship with the Cerberus Operative, but his doubts had been misleading. He had been wrong in thinking about cutting her off, because in his brief time with her, in both the time before his death and his resurrection, it was with her that he felt the most himself, the most at peace.
Shepard's dwelling on Miranda and the Consort's words were put aside once he arrived at the Consort's Chambers. He had been warmly greeted, and given a private booth and a glass of water as one of the Consort's handmaidens promised to seek out the Consort, to inform her of his arrival.
He sipped his water, thankful for the privacy that his booth offered him. Upon looking around the waiting area, and seeing the multitude of clients, he had begun rethinking his spontaneous visit. Seeing so many clients waiting for the Consort, he couldn't help but wonder if she would have time to even see him, before he was drawn away to his meeting with Anderson.
He thought about just abandoning his idea and leaving, instead of wasting his remaining hour simply waiting in this over-crowded waiting area. It was a tempting offer, but upon remembering the news which he wanted to give her, he decided to remain. After she had given him those stirring words, she had handed him a trinket of unknown origin and unusual craft, telling him that it had been in her presence long enough and feeling it was time to pass it on to someone else.
At the time, Shepard wasn't very impressed with the gift, and had been further compensated by the Consort, who had given Shepard a more intimate and physical gift for her gratefulness. He had never been particularly attracted to asari, but the Consort had been different. He had found himself drawn to the strong and sensual presence of Sha'ira. She would be the first and only asari that he had been with, leaving him with an experience unlike any other…
Not wanting to dwell on his past intimate encounters with the Consort, Shepard shifted his attention by studying the clients around him. They mainly consisted of humans, asari, and turians, but he did spot a volus and an elcor at the far end of the room. As well as a pair of salarians on a sofa who at the moment were being entertained by one of the many asari acolytes or handmaidens.
These acolytes of the Consort were mainly asari, and tended to the clients. They personally devoted time to those clients who would be unable to personally meet with the Consort. This time could be spent in a number of ways, including conversation, massages, entertainment and other means of 'pampering.'
"Commander?"
Shepard looked up at the acolyte who had approached him, recognizing the face of the blue skinned asari, a name soon came to his memory-Nelyna. He had gotten to know this particular acolyte because she was usually the one positioned at the entrance to greet coming clients.
She smiled when their eyes met, "She will see you now."
Shepard nodded his thanks, finishing the rest of his water in one sip; getting up from his booth, he followed the acolyte to the Consort's Chambers. It was just as he remembered, walking up a long stairwell and crossing through a lush garden before arriving at the two doors that led to the personal chambers of the Consort.
Nelyna stepped aside to allow Shepard to pass, offering him a friendly smile when he walked by, before bowing her head once the doors to the chambers opened.
He tentatively walked into the private chambers of Sha'ira, spotting the asari consort at once. She was standing by the tinted window, overlooking the Presidium. She was dressed in her soft-colored robes which accentuated her curves. Her hands were gently clasped behind her back, and when she turned to face him, a soft smile came to her pink lips.
"Shepard," she said, in a musical voice.
He returned her smile, offering her a nod, but made no attempt for the usual embrace the two would share during his past visits. He brought his hands behind his back, looking around her room, noticing it looked much the same as it did, the last time he saw her.
The glass covered bed tucked away in a corner, while the opposite corner was furnished with a pair of comfortable, soft sofas which were separated by an ornate, glass table. Trinkets and statues from numerous cultures and species were on display throughout her room. These no doubt came from previous suitors who rewarded the consorts these gifts as thanks for her services.
"I had heard rumors that you're preparing to leave the Citadel?"
She gestured to a pair of asari statues at her side, "as you can see, I still haven't done my packing."
He nodded, watching as she approached him with careful, well timed steps.
"I had heard rumors of your death, but it seems like my own rumors that they have been greatly exaggerated."
He sighed, shaking his head, but made no attempt to clarify her correct her words. Even though he considered her a friend, he didn't want to relive his death or retell the story of his rebirth, not now, anyway.
She hid her curiosity and disbelief well, when she was close enough, she embraced him, but sensing his stiffness, she pulled away after a few seconds. Her blue eyes surveying him closely, before the corner of her mouth tugged upwards, before placing a hand on her hips. "Who's the lucky woman, Shepard?"
Shepard could only smile at her astute observation, before shaking his head, to tell her that at the moment, he was not willing to divulge the details of his personal affairs with a certain Cerberus Operative...
"No matter, Shepard," she said softly, her eyes sincere, when she added. "It's still good to see you."
"Likewise," he returned, before allowing her soft hands to grab his elbow and gently lead him to the pair of sofas. He took the one lined against the wall, while she took the other.
"Can I interest you in anything to drink?" She gestured to the intricately painted pottery cups on the table between them.
He shook his head, "No, I'm fine, I don't have long."
"Well, I'm glad you decided to see me," she remarked genuinely.
"I wanted to see you," he said, before clarifying. "I wanted to tell you about the trinket you had given me."
"Oh?" Sha'ira asked; her elegantly drawn eye brows furrowed. It was clear of all the things she was expecting for them to discuss that had not been one of them.
"Yes, I actually found the purpose to it," he revealed.
"Really?" asked Sha'ira, unable to keep the curiosity out of her tone.
"It was Prothean," he explained. "It was a key, in which I used to unlock a Prothean ruin on Eletaina."
"Fascinating," she marveled. "What did you find?"
Shepard instinctively scratched the back of his neck, recalling the vivid pain he had felt from the vision he had received from the Prothean device. "I was given a vision."
Sha'ira leaned closer to him, enthralled by his answer, but clearly wasn't satisfied if her next question was any gauge. "What did it show you?"
"Humans," answered Shepard simply, seeing her confusion, he added. "What we were like fifty thousand years ago, when the Protheans were studying us."
"Remarkable," she breathed.
Shepard nodded, agreeing with the simple but accurate word to best describe the experience. He leaned back in his seat, allowing himself to recall the experience which the trinket had given him. "It…it was remarkable," he paused. "I…I was one of those humans."
She frowned, "pardon?"
"It transported me into one of the humans." He stopped, to make sure she was following, a polite nod from her signaled that she was and that she wanted to know more, he acquiesced. "I experienced what they were experiencing. I saw what they saw, heard what they heard. For that brief moment, I had been transported to an Earth 50,000 years ago."
She smiled, leaning back in her seat, "It must have been an incredible experience." Her blue eyes deep in thought, signaling she was reflecting on what he had shared with her, a ghost of a smile remained on her pink lips.
"It was," he said, reflecting back on the time. He and Liara had gone down to explore the ruins after discovering the site when they were looking for an Alliance Satellite. The two had chosen to go alone, because they shared a passionate interest in history, and were both eager in wanting to look and study the ruins.
To Shepard it was a reminder of a time during his mission with Saren when he was able to enjoy himself and those he had surrounded himself with, including Liara. Recalling the times the soldier and archaeologist would get together and teach one another different histories. Liara would teach Shepard Prothean and Asari history, while he taught her human history, focusing on humanity' before they were a space faring people.
He remembered how worried Liara had been when he had awoken from his vision induced blackout. Remembering how that worry was then replaced with excitement when he shared with her what he had seen from the point of view of humans. She had speculated that the vision he had received from the Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime and the cipher from Feros had given him the ability to access the Eletaina ruins because they had believed him to be Prothean.
"Thank you, Shepard," she said, her soft, musical voice puncturing through Shepard's memories of Eletaina. "I'm honored and grateful that you decided to personally share this with me."
He shrugged, "I thought it was a better story in person then over an email."
She smiled at his joke, and nodded in agreement. "It was." Her eyes took a more serious hue, and her expression became pensive, before her blue eyes found his. "I'm actually glad you've come."
"Because of the story?"
She shook her head, her hands smoothing over invisible wrinkles on the front of her robes. "When I had been told of your death, I had thought my gift of words had been incorrect. This went beyond any feelings of embarrassment or doubt in my gifts, because in that time, I was not worried of my perception but of you…"
"Sha'ira?" Shepard asked, patiently, unsure what his friend was trying to communicate.
Her fingers stopped in the needless attempt at ironing out her already smooth robes. "I grieved your death, Shepard. In your absence did I realize that I had not lost a client, but a friend, and seeing you before me, it is like a direct gift from the Goddess herself."
He reached over the table, gently grabbing one of her soft hands and giving it a friendly, but firm squeeze. The action caused her blue eyes to meet his. Her eyes shimmered with the truth and sincerity that her words were echoing with the same real, genuine emotion.
"But in seeing you, I sense that you head toward an even deeper darkness."
She had no idea, how right she was, he mused, reflecting on the Suicide mission in front of him, but he remained silent, allowing her to continue with her speech.
"When you fought Saren, only your resolve was tested, but now I fear you cannot rely only on your own strength. Take whatever steps you must to ensure that those battling at your side will fight with clear minds and glad hearts."
The images of Jacob, Mordin, and Drek came to his mind, as well as the countless other dossiers of those he had yet to recruit. He saw the wisdom in her advice, knowing that he could and should secure trusts and even friendships with those he was going to surround himself for this pending Suicide Mission. Realizing that he was going to need more than just his strength to defeat the Collectors, he was going to need everyone working together.
"I will," he vowed.
Shepard had finished his meeting with Anderson which included a brief conversation with the newly formed Council, who were being led by human Councilor, Donnel Udina. A man, who was quickly rising through the ranks of the list of people Shepard despised. After finishing his meeting with the Council and Anderson, and not wanting to try their limited 'hospitality,' Shepard had ordered the Normandy to leave upon his return.
He had retreated to the sanctuary of his cabin, but he was not alone. He had given a summary of his talks with Anderson and the Council with Miranda and Garrus. The former was pacing furiously in front of his fish tank, while the latter was casually lounging on one of the sofas which formed an L. Shepard had made himself comfortable on the other sofa.
According to them, he had been overtly-traumatized from his ordeal with Saren. With this convenient excuse and his absence these last two years, they had no need or desire to investigate his claims of Reapers or the pending invasion. They had allowed themselves to bury their heads in the sand, refusing to even acknowledge any ounce of credence to his story. Wanting to make him an example, they were quick to rule that he was no longer fit to represent the Council, and therefore was unable to remain a Spectre.
"At least they didn't try to arrest you," Garrus pointed out, puncturing Shepard's lingering bitter thoughts of the Council and their ruling.
"I'm sure they wanted to," Shepard replied, knowing their desire to see him locked up must have only increased when they realized that he was now working with Cerberus. "Give it time."
"You're right," Garrus agreed. "Your luck always goes from bad to worse."
"Thanks for the pep-talk, Garrus," Shepard replied dryly. "I feel so much better now."
Garrus chuckled, stretching out his arms on the sofa to make himself more comfortable, "makes you realize just how pointless all these politicians and politics really are."
"Agreed," Shepard said, knowing that he was sure to have received the same treatment had the previous Council survived. He was aware that even with a replacement of Udina with a staunch supporter like Anderson wouldn't amount to much, because of the politics in place.
Miranda had stopped in her pacing, so that she could face the turian and human who were both comfortably sitting on the couches. "The Alliance has not been much better. They have become the lapdog of the Council, begging at their heels, ready and eager for their table scraps. They care more for their place in the galaxy then they do in preserving humanity."
"I know," Shepard agreed, "that's why I resigned from the Alliance this afternoon."
"You what?"
"You're kidding right, Shepard?"
He calmly looked up at his two friends, Miranda had been so surprised by his revelation that the usual controlled and schooled Operative didn't bother to hide her dismay at the news of his decision.
Garrus' mandibles twitched in surprise, his small blue eyes blinking with bemusement at this revelation.
"That was the same reaction Anderson gave me," Shepard deadpanned. He had been surprised by how easy it had been for him to resign his position from the Alliance. Their handling of both himself and the Reapers had made it an easy decision for the Alliance Major to make. He would not allow himself to be bogged down by either the Alliance or the Citadel. He had a job to do, and was not going to allow anyone to get in his way in his duty in stopping the Collectors and Reapers.
"If the Alliance gets their shit together, then I'll be willing to work with them for the greater good in stopping the Reapers," Shepard clarified his position, holding the option open of a cordial reunion between the two sides. "But I believe this works best for everyone, the Alliance gets me out of their hands, and I no longer have to be hamstrung by their dealings with the Reapers."
"You quit just like that?" asked Garrus. "And Anderson just accepted it?"
"In part," answered Shepard. "He told me that my resignation would be pending for a few weeks to allow me a chance to change my mind, but I don't think that will happen."
"You're very casual about this," Miranda observed, crossing her arms, as her icy blue eyes examined him.
"I'm not the same person I was when I joined the Alliance," he responded, with a shrug. "And the Alliance is not the same organization I thought they were."
"Well," Garrus began, "I can't fault you for quitting the Alliance, since I quit C-Sec."
"We had our reasons," Shepard pointed out.
Garrus nodded, "you can only handle so much shit thrown at you."
"Charming," Miranda drawled, with a roll of her eyes.
Shepard chuckled, "not quite the image I had in mind, but I agree with the sentiment behind it."
"I don't know what's worse, the Reapers or the politicians," Garrus remarked, breaking the jovial silence that had fallen on the three with his own sobering observations. "I mean at least the Reapers are honest with their intentions."
"It makes you wonder," Shepard replied, "if perhaps Sulla, Caesar, and even Napoleon were right."
"Who?" asked a confused Garrus. The turian unrehearsed in the histories of mankind turned a puzzled expression in Shepard's direction.
"They were dictators," clarified Shepard, who had spent a good amount of his free time over the years studying the history of humanity. In those readings, he would come across ambitious and brilliant men who rose to power, in trying to fix the Republics that granted them power, they dismantled them. At this moment, Shepard couldn't deny how alluring the thought was in overthrowing the Council, to install someone who could get results. This someone who would combat the Reapers; make the hard choices that were needed to combat the unparallel evil that the Reapers represented.
"Could you make those choices, Shepard?" asked Miranda. The Cerberus Operative had mostly been silent during the conversation, resigned to allowing Shepard and Garrus do most of the talking and in their case, joking. She was leaning against Shepard's fish tank, her arms folded, her eyes on him while she waited for an answer.
He looked up to meet her intensive blue stare, clasping his hands together before resting them on his lap, he sat up straighter, mulling over Miranda's question. He was not new to making difficult choices. Besides the one he was most famous for at Elysium, Torfan, Virmire, the Citadel, there were other choices he made that were just as difficult.
On Feros, he sacrificed the colonists, by killing them in order to stop the Thorian. They had become thralls, obedient and hostile obstacles for the Thorian to throw at Shepard and his squad. He couldn't allow them to stand aside in his duty to stop the Thorian, so he killed them, and when he did, there was no hesitation.
He thought about the possible scenarios and the choices that he would be faced in this supposed Reaper war, aware that casualties of both military and civilian were sure to be high, but he also understood that sometimes in order to win, sacrifices must be made, "Yeah, without hesitation."
"Well then, I'll start printing up flyers for your campaign," Garrus joked.
Shepard smirked, "How about, Shepard/Vakarian, calibrating a better future, today."
Garrus laughed, "I like it." Still wearing, an amused expression, he stood up, stretching his arms while he did. He stepped away from the sofas. "But your joke reminded me of something."
Miranda shifted her gaze to the turian, "What's that?"
"I got to do some calibrations on the cannons."
Shepard rolled his eyes, unable to resist the urge, while the corners of his lips tugged upwards. "I'd hate to keep ya."
Garrus gave what could have passed as a cordial nod to Miranda, before passing the Cerberus Operative and heading to the doors, before calling over his shoulders. "Sorry, Shepard, but someone has to work on this ship."
Shepard had no time for a rebuttal since the turian was gone. His response died on his lips when the doors closed shut behind Garrus, leaving the Commander alone with the XO. A small smile still on his lips from the exchange of teasing taunts between himself and his turian comrade, when he turned his focus on the unusually silent Miranda. She had a pensive expression, her blue eyes looked distant, revealing that she was probably deep in thought, but knowing Miranda, it wasn't just one thought, but probably several.
"I almost didn't recognize the ship," Shepard remarked, referring to the new paint job, which had removed the countless and pointless symbols of Cerberus that had been stamped throughout the inside and outside of the ship.
Miranda eyes snapped back into the present, before focusing on Shepard, a smile forming on her lips. "I will admit that Cerberus went a bit overboard."
"A bit?" repeated Shepard, pushing himself out of his seat. "One or two Cerberus symbols would have been 'a bit.' They put dozens up, not to mention the large one on the outside of the ship."
She shook her head, fighting off an amused expression, while she watched him approach her. "Fair point," She mused.
He smiled, leaning in to whisper, "can we expect privacy?"
"No interruptions," she promised, her fingers trailing down his unscarred cheek, before her lips sought his for a searing kiss. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her smaller frame while she deepened the kiss.
"Good," he breathed, after breaking the kiss, his fingers gently went up her arm, before finding the strap on her cat-suit at the back of her neck, which covered up her zipper. "Because I just noticed another Cerberus symbol that has to go," He added, beginning to tug her zipper down.
Miranda gently kissed along his jaw-line, before her lips were at his ear, she purred. "We can't have that, Commander."