We can't pick our heroes.
Sometimes, we get the upstanding paragon. A man who plays by the rules to get things done.
Sometimes, we get the ruthless renegade, who prioritizes efficiency above all else.
This is the story of an entirely different kind of hero.
This is the story of Paolo Shepard.
A jerk.
We start our story of Shepard's meteoric rise at it's very start: Eden Prime. He was perfect then, the dashing hero, coming in to save the damsel in distress-later experiences show that he had a thing for that-playing the part of the chosen one, the one man who could take in the visions of the Prothean beacon. Yes, he was magnificent.
Except, of course, for those times he was not. None of the history books will tell you about Jenkins, the young soldier who died under the callous commander's watch. Jenkins' family never heard a word. After a month of silence from her son, no vidmails, no messages, nothing, the boy's mother started writing letters to the captain of the Normandy, asking what had happened to her child. Every evening she would write, and every day brought the fresh pain of dashed hopes when she still had no son and no answers. The commander finally responded three months later, once she'd already given up her sweet boy as lost. The note contained one line, and seeing the message on her terminal made her heart drop. The subject line read: "Dead".
Very few people bother mentioning that Ashley Williams was far from a "distressed damsel," and would have bitten the head off any fool who dared call her anything of the sort. Unfortunately for her, she never recognized the undercurrent of condescension in Shepard's words that day, given that she was still coming down from an adrenaline rush. Maybe if she had, things would have been different. Of course, Ash and Shepard's story is more complicated than that...I'm sorry, there will be more on that later, some memories are not easily revisited.
No one ever mentions the cold, calculating look in his eyes when Nihlus was shot. No one says a word about how quickly he strode past the Specter's corpse. No one dares discuss the slight note of admiration in his voice whenever he spoke of Saren. After all, no one wants to cross Commander Shepard.
Indeed, no one on that mission ever confronted the commander about the flat, emotionless void he remained while watching the colonists impaled, or the vicious rictus of a smile on his face as he cut down waves of incoming husks, the horrifying remains of the colonists he had been sent to defend. It was better for everyone to maintain silence. After all, what hero would act like that? And make no mistake, Shepard is without a doubt, a hero.
But this isn't the story of a hero. This is the story of Shepard. Just another jerk.