A/N (edited): This is a story about my OC, Admiral Willis, her job, her life, and her romantic relationship with Liara.

/!\ Before you start reading this, you may want to know that:

- first, some readers think the OC around which this story revolves is a Mary Sue. She might be in the first part of the story and I have no trouble admitting it. However, I want to give some depth to the character and the story expends on quite a lot of chapter so it's hard to judge with just a few chapters. However, if you absolutely despise Mary Sues, I advise you to look for another story.

- secondly, Liara is a bit OOC in this story. My Liara is actually Liara but with some traits that are greatly emphasized, especially her shyness and inexperience. This will change throughout the story, of course, but it will take time.

- finally, some people think that I kind of destroy the myth of Shepard with the sole purpose of gloryfying my OC. I can assure you it is not the case, although I have to admit it seems like it at some point. It will also evolve later in the story, but if you're totally averse to the idea of Shepard being a little less perfect that in-game, you shouldn't read this.

I know everything I'm saying doesn't really give a positive outlook of my story but I'd rather warn you now and avoid any disagreeable comments that lack any sense or arguments.

There are quite a few other things I would need to explain to make everything clear, but it would spoil the whole story, somehow. If you have any questions, suggestions or criticism, don't hesitate to send me a message, I'll be glad to answer and debate with you.

If you're still here, I hope you'll enjoy your reading! Please let me know what you think, it would be greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Prologue

Admiral Willis, Third Fleet. Tall, athletic, wild strands of blond hair falling arrogantly on her forehead, a cocky grin always hanging on full, pink lips. To anyone who contented themselves with a quick glance, she was just a member of the Alliance top brass, a braggart who relished her position just for the sake of giving orders and showing off her medals. To most, a thirty-two year old admiral always hanging out in immaculate whites adorned with four golden stripes on the shoulders and three rows of shining medals on the breast was bound to become impossibly proud – not in the good sense of the term. Often when talking about Willis, Alliance recruits as well as simple citizens spoke with venom in their words and a slight waver in their voice. That woman had been promoted to the most important status a marine could ever hope for in their career, and no one knew why. She had never been as much as a cameo in the news – at least, she had never been instrumental in any successful missions made public. She had never made an appearance in any of the unofficial reports on the Extranet, and it appeared that no one ever mentioned her when there were stories about saved colonies or assaults on enemy bases.

Everyone knew her but no one exactly knew why. What had she done to deserve such a promotion, why had the Alliance chosen her among the hundreds of soldiers worthy of the title, and why the hell did she always act like she didn't care when every goddamned soldiers would kill to get her position? All those questions remained unanswered, and it led people to believe she just had a few acquaintances belonging to the Alliance board. She'd been promoted to the prestigious title during a huge celebration that had gathered the most important figures of humanity, and it had been retransmitted around the galaxy on the biggest channels. That's when her face was first made public, and for some unknown reason, people started being interested in her.

For a while, they showed no animosity towards her – after all, if the Alliance deemed necessary to promote her, it surely was because she deserved it. But then, some ill-intentioned soldiers started spreading rumors, mostly out of jealously. They knew most of them would never even get the chance to become as much as a rear admiral and they just thought it unfair that someone who couldn't claim any victories over enemies or successful missions was given the title at so young an age. At first, there were just a few recruits spitting on her name when playing cards in the cargo bay of little military ships doing routine patrols on human colonies. But then, a wave of anger rose among more and more military groups, fueled by the fact that the galaxy was slowly, but surely, starting to show its dislike of humans, and that Willis was nowhere to be seen. Even when it came to Saren, everyone knew Admiral Hackett and Commander Shepard had been the one pulling the strings, and while on one side, people praised their action and acclaimed Shepard for her heroism, they also silently blamed Willis for not doing anything. An Alliance Admiral was supposed to give people hope and help them through the hardships that galaxy had brought the humans, and Willis only seemed to remain in the dark, far away from the troubles her own race suffered.

The wisest knew Willis had probably played her part, and the cold heads knew a soldier was always made admiral for a good reason. But the general wave of disgust and resentment that had emanated within just a few was getting the better of her reputation. Before being recognized in the streets, Admiral Willis had never had any supporters, but no enemies either. Now, she had no supporters and an entire race angry with her, as if she had been the one at the origin of their problems, when her only fault was an empty public record of her military service. The paranoia, the fear, the anxiousness caused by the galaxy's eventful and dangerous life had made people turn against a black sheep to release the tension, and when this beta-soldier with nothing remarkable had been offered the golden striped shoulder boards, they knew she was the one to hate.

She was the perfect incarnation of a soldier given everything a recruit could hope for when all she could do was hide away and pretend the world didn't exist while her race was being butchered on some distant colonies. Her way of life didn't help her much convince people she supported the human race either. More than once, she had been witnessed with an Asari at her arm, taking a walk in the streets of the Presidium as if there weren't anything more important to take care of, or dining in an expensive restaurant on the shore of the Thessian Sea. She was said to neglect her race and find comfort in the arms of aliens, and not only people kept insulting her, but they also started to give her the petty surname of xenophile whore.

As for Willis herself, she suffered the invectives without doing anything, not showing as much as frown of hurt or a complacent look of acknowledgment. No one knew if it was because she was ashamed of her own inaction, because she deemed unnecessary to answer false accusations, or because she simply didn't care. She never looked away, never flinched, never gave any sign that proved she heard the insults or was affected by them in any way. And, more than a blank service record or a night spent at the Purgatory, it was her lack of reaction that pushed people to mock her more, blame her more, hate her more. She opposed no resistance, making it so much easier to keep spitting on her when she walked in the street. Maybe she hoped that one day people would get tired of this and finally leave her in peace? Maybe she knew she deserved the copious amount of abuses that was thrown at her face? Either way, every day she had to affront the angry faces of humans, both male and female, both adults and children, keeping her head high and walking with as much dignity as she could muster in her admiral whites. Oh, it wasn't easy. But she knew that one day, all these men and women would kneel in front of her, begging for forgiveness. And the single thought was enough to keep her going.