It's been so long since I've written anything for this account. It feels so odd. Sadly though, I do not think I'll be returning to them.

It's been so long, my interests have shifted and slid, and sadly I must discontinue them, but now I'll be writing new stories. Better ones. I've grown as a writer since my last update.

So I'm going to start by feeding my ME needs and write my ship and pretend the ending of ME3 didn't happen despite my somewhat there hype for ME:A. I'm basically adapting my own story for a Fem!Shep starting from ME2, with many references to her actions in the first game, and it will most likely lead into ME3 and even possibly beyond if I can keep this going long enough! I hope you enjoy.

EDIT. I finally got time to edit this and fix the spelling mistakes and continiuty errors since I switched who survived Virmire like halfway through chapter 3.

Katherine Shepard was unlike most humans, and it showed through childhood. A wild child with an act for battle and sparring, she spent her youth hunting for her colony Mindoir and aiding in building and protecting everyone with her very oddly powerful biotics. It was a mess when she first discovered them, blowing up a power station as a result of her first discharge and putting the colony down for three weeks. She was strong, trained by her parents who believed in survival and strength regardless of biological factors. Many would say later that she had both the capacity to raise and train baby varren, while also having the ability to wrestle and fight them at a young age. She had seemingly built in abilities for survival and adaption, for battle and stress.

So when her life came crushing down around her as Batarians at the age of sixteen, she did just that: survived. Using an aging pistol her father had hid in their farm, she fought off raiders who sought to raid her farm after killing her parents and her brother closer to town. One after another they fell, giving her ammo, weapons, and just a little hope as she kept living and fighting for what she loved. She was lucky that the patrol noticed her once they had left her world burning around her, scarred for life. She didn't say a word to the shocked soldiers as a bloodied, wounded sixteen year old came forward with her father's tags in one hand, and a pistol in the other, her burning colony behind her as she left behind everything. She knew her biotics made her look like a monster, but she was simply a human. A human with unhealable scars.

Joining the military an orphan, unable to cling to her past life, she rose from the ashes of her colony to become a weapon. Biotics, sniper rifles, assault rifles; her greatest assets outside her ability to survive and adapt. The Alliance kept her moving, kept training her, mission after mission. She developed her own biotic attacks, learning from the asari she would meet along the way, showing even the eldest one that her caliber of biotic power and control rivaled even the asari. Aliens here and there crossed her path, and yet even though many around her help an oddly placed xenophobia for them, she felt comfortable around them. She felt safe with them, knowing she wasn't alone in being an odd one. The only exception, perhaps, was batarians. She could only flinch and try to get away when one came close. She remembered the cages and fires all too well, unable to shake the fear and imprint of the raiders taking her little remaining innocence from her that night.

Akuze was meant to be simple, but of course, nothing was for her. The cries of her name were drowned out by the howls and snarls of the Thresher Maws devouring her camp, her men, and her short sanity. She felt the trap surround her, and she watched through tears as everyone perished. She wasn't a religious human, but she simply prayed that she would survive. Once the next shuttle came, she once again walked to an awaiting extraction team with what few tags she could recover in her hand, and a gun in the other, covered in wounds, and blood. Most of it not her own. Many whispered of her survival and her levelheadedness, but of course behind the mask was the cracking face of a survivor with more scars then just on her skin.

Keep the pain down, keep your head up, and cry once everything is done, her mother told her. Her father may have kept his tags, but she knew her mother had given hers up. A smile curled her lips now, wondering if she would ever hear the full story of her mom's 'insubordination' by saving Turian lives during the First Contact War.

But as she stared out into the spinning darkness of space, grasping her suit's busted seal as she leaked air into the abyss of space, she knew she wouldn't. After so many years, she lost the chance. But yet, despite wanting to say goodbye to her family, her mind drifted to her crew. Her amazing crew who got her through Saren, through the descent of Sovereign.

Liara T'Soni.

A quirky Prothean expert. A talented biotic Asari with a troubled family, but even that never stopped her. She was kind, and warm. She couldn't count the amount of times she spent just translating texts, and bonding over a drink. So relaxed and calm, so warm and welcoming. A sister to her.

Urdnot Wrex.

The hulking brute of a Krogan. Her bondbrother, a man with a quad twice the size of his small brain, but he was a fighter, a survivor, and a good man. She had hoped to see him rule Tuchanka as he spoke about. She laughed in her mind at the times he could get so hammered and stand up again to train and fight.

Ashley Williams.

She never truly got together well with the Gunnery Chief. Her distrust of aliens, and perhaps mild xenophobia, put them at odds many at times, and she was a somewhat arrogant woman. Inside the shell of the soldier lay an untouched garden of care and friendship, however. She was a soldier, though, and a damned good one, and while she could never forgive herself for leaving her on Virmire, she knew her memories wouldn't fade.

Kaiden Alenko.

She couldn't lie, she had some issues with him. He was an amazing biotic, but he was single-minded, and struggled with orders. Her heart went out to the L-2 biotic, hoping perhaps one day to get him a better amp. He was, in short, a puppy dog fighting for her lost affections. She simply couldn't find in her heart to even try to fake something for the man. She indulged him once, just before Ilos, but she feared it would get to his head.

Tali.

She knew her whole name, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, but she always preferred Tali. A young quarian on her Pilgrimage, caught up in a mess that made her a hero. She remembered days sitting in decom suits helping Tali patch holes, watching her drink herself into giggling fits. A cute girl. She still wondered to this day if perhaps she was cute under her suit.

Dr. Chakwas.

Oh god, this woman and her banter and her brandy. This doctor was the death and life of her. Now the med-bay was a quiet place to speak her mind without worry, and Chakwas always knew how to help, though when the bottles came out, she was a drunk with a hundred and one stories to spill into the air. She was glad they got to share a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy.

Joker.

He lived up to his stupid nickname from basic, despite being splinters for legs all the time. She respected the hell out of a man who would match her smart ass remarks and add to her library of things to say. A brother in and out, she had spent many a nights talking about the SR1, and just casually flipping through Fornax issues just to see how far fetched the real deals could be. Good times.

Garrus Vakarian.

A friend. A brother. And maybe, if she had ever figured out her scarred heart's messages, more then that. She hated herself for being silent to everyone, unable to make stronger bonds, but it was the strongest with Garrus. Watching him fix the Mako after she decided to barrel roll over Geth or do sick flips over countless mountains, spending so much time helping and talking about nothing and everything. Turians, despite all the distrust after first contact, were her favorite species. She loved their honor code, their complicated system for love and battle and relations. It absolutely fascinated her.

He fascinated her the most.

She struggled for air, gasping pointlessly once more before letting tears slip from her eyes, feeling her mind break and shatter without its oxygen. Space swallowed her dying body as she let her last message pass her lips, disappearing into the silence as she came down like a missile to the planet below, watching once again her world burn around her.

"Wait for me..."

She left the universe surrounded by flames, so waking up once again to flames and smoke choking her still weak lungs, and some woman screaming at her to get up despite the pain all over her body almost seemed normal. She didn't have much time to suit up, grabbing for a pistol just in time to find herself assaulted within the small operating room. She spared no glance at the machines clearly showing her that she was incomplete; a science project. Cerberus symbols hung on every window, every wall, and her stomach curled as she fought through the burning halls of the facility. Pointless chatter in her ear about how things work, how things are. She was being retaught how to fight, how to move, how to use things.

How long...

"Two years."

Two years of silence. Two years in the atmosphere of a planet as her ship burned into dust, her crew surviving who knows how. Her disbanded crew getting wind of her death, and mourning her.

The news crippled her, but she kept firm. She was still on duty, still working, despite the urge to throw Cerberus to the curb and run. If the Alliance hadn't thrown her, she would rejoin Anderson, Hackett, and make peace. But everyone had left, she found out. The Council refused to believe the existence of the Reapers, disproved her 'wild theories', and both them and the Alliance had thrown her into the dust. She knew from the moment she was ordered to hunt for pockets of Geth that she was thrown away. The day she was told all Alien crew members were to be off the ship, she knew would be the end of everything she had achieved.

How the universe burns around her constantly.

She held it together through meeting the Illusive Man, the shadow behind the horror show under the name Cerberus, who brought her back for the 'good of the universe, and humanity'. He made her sick, absolutely nauseous. She felt like she needed to shower for hours, and scrub his awful presence off her soul. Before she was rushed out immediately again for yet another mission with little to no explanations that sated her, she changed her armor. She could thank them for that at least, returning her armor to black and blue highlights.

Kat didn't truly want to do this anymore, moving through Freedom's Progress in silence, unable to shake the feeling of being constantly watched by Miranda. It was hard enough to be around her, but her staring at her like she was a child of hers creeped her out. Moving through the empty halls and abandoned homes, she found no solace in this silence, even as she nursed an old habit of taking credits from abandoned pads, farming for supplies and ammo. Ash used to poke fun at her for being a scavenger and a hoarder, but Garrus encouraged her actions. It meant better meals and more bullets to kill enemies. It was dead and empty. However, the arrival of quarians did spice her day up, especially upon meeting an old face.

Being aimed at by quarians wasn't fun, but hearing Tali's voice, seeing her glowing eyes behind her mask tighten at the sight of her alive once more... it burned her chest, emotions boiling but never hitting the top.

Tali's voice was cloaked in confusion and uncertainty, but she could hear the hidden relief, the happiness. "Shepard? Is that... you're alive?"

"Yeah, Tali. Sadly, Cerberus was the one to bring me back, with a lot of strings."

Her partner wasn't buying it, snorting in disgust. Kat had the control for now to not glare at him and see if her biotics could warp him into a pulp. Tali mattered more then one doubtful and guarded quarian. He was right to be on his guard. She was simply agitated that he would go so far while Tali led him, obviously. Tali calmly gave him an order for weapons down, and began explaining her presence here on a human colony.

"One of our people was here on Pilgrimage. His name was Veetor. We came to find him."

Kat was surprised by the news. "A pilgrimage-bound quarian visiting remote colonies?"

Tali shrugged a little, but her voice showed her calm and serious explanation. "Quarians can choose where they go on Pilgrimage. Veetor liked the idea of helping a small settlement. He was... always nervous in crowds."

The same annoying quarian partner by her side started up again. "She means that he was unstable. Combine that with the damage to his suit's CO2 scrubbers an infection from an open-air exposure, and he's likely delirious."

Kat could tell Tali didn't really like this tone, but continued anyway. "When he saw us landing, he hid in a warehouse on the far side of town. We suspect he also programmed the mechs to attack anything that moved."

Did this mean teaming up with Tali? Her smile had to be curbed as she stepped forward a step.

"If Veetor is our only clue to what happened here, we should work together to find him and get to him safety."

It was somewhat smooth sailing once an agreement had been made, fighting drones and mechs alike to get to this warehouse. Scavenging as she went, diving into cover before kicking up warps, only to slam them down into shockwave. With each use of her biotics, they woke up from their deep slumber. The beast within was coming alive, and it made her feel back in control for a moment. Keep running, keep moving. Even though Tali's team moved ahead to get their target before them, she kept going.

Even at the sight of the heavy mech blasting apart Prazza's squad, and then taking aim at them, she kept going. Pulling her sniper out and clipping it as she moved, picking up heavy ammo, and blasting him to pieces once she had him trapped in a biotic blast. She finished off her sweep of the area, and entered the last building remaining.

She didn't remember much besides his monitors. Watching Collectors taking humans screaming and fighting, swarms of bugs filling the air. The sound haunted her. She remembered letting him go with Tali and return to the flotilla. She wouldn't let Miranda have this one. It was one thing to get info, but to take a whole being wouldn't be right.

Her talk with the Illusive Man was... stellar, as sarcastic as it could be said. However hearing his voice behind her after the Illusive Man left, made her smile, jumping Joker's bones as she hugged the limping pilot gently. He deserved a hug, not allowing him to speak before she mumbled into his shoulder.

"...I'm sorry for dying on you, Joker. It won't happen again."

"It better not," Joker scoffed, smiling at her, "Now, don't you cry. I haven't pulled out the party poppers and annoyed miss prissy back there. Or found decent cake yet for you. You missed two birthdays, and mine! I deserve back presents."

She laughed heartily, having missed his dry wit and humor. They moved through the halls together, speaking of what happened after she died, how he got caught up with Cerberus. He obviously didn't like them, but he had to say they did have some nice toys.

Seeing her new ship, an upgrade of the good old SR1, rang both happily and coldly in her chest. A beautiful group project between Turians and Humans was now a toy of Cerberus, painted in its colors, telling the universe such an engineering marvel was no longer so shiny and new. It was home at the same time, but with new toys, new guns, new areas, and finally, a captain's quarters with her own shower. She had to admit though.. it would be the closest she got to home.

"Two hundred credits says I already know her name." she grinned, and Joker couldn't beam back brighter.

The Normandy SR2 sailed out of Cerberus port proudly, with her new captain, helmsmen, a small crew, and a new AI holding her steady.

The mission against the Collectors had only just begun for Katherine Shepard, and she had so much to learn and hear after two long years without a universe to call home.

She looked over the four dossiers given to her in her cabin, nursing a glass of flat cola their cook had so graciously gifted her with as a welcome aboard present. The Professor, Mordin Solis, The Archangel, The Convict, Jack, and the Warlord. She set aside the warlord and the convict, feeling it better to get to Omega before straying too far. Miranda had recommended Mordin, but reading through Archangel's profile was more interesting. She had asked the Illusive Man more about her old crew, and she had been hurt to hear that Garrus had dropped off the radar after abandoning Spectre training. Most likely as a result of her passing, now without a Spectre he could shadow without issue. Her heart ached for her old crew, her only friends in a universe she now did not really belong in. They were scattered, lost, confused maybe, and still always mourning the loss of their commander and friend. God, just thinking about them all coming to a funeral for her with nothing but an empty casket and a photo of her made her ache. She tried to brush the painful thoughts and 'what ifs' by rereading the dossier.

Archangel. Wanted by all three major merc groups found on Omega for disruption of operations, execution of operatives, and overall sabotage of their actions and missions. She had to give a silent cheers to this so called 'angel of justice'.

Mordin could wait. She had made up her mind.

"EDI. Have Joker plot a coarse for Omega, if you could."

"Of course, Shepard."

"Coarse plotted. We should be there in 4 hours or so, Shep. So, are you bagging the crazy mad scientist first, or letting Miranda sputter?" Joker's voice filtered over her. She finished off her glass, smiling as she read through the dossier once more before setting them down.

She tosses her untied dark brown hair off her shoulders, focusing sharp silver eyes on her terminal. She knew her room would be bugged, and was setting out to fix that issue before setting out on a mission.

"Miranda can sit and spin a little. It'll do her good, seeing as she's joined my list of 'people with sticks up their asses'. My eyes are set on this 'Archangel'."

Once both comms went dead, she stretched across her couch, setting the dossier down with the others, laying there for a moment, looking up at the stars. She remembered the moments before her death, floating through the endless black as she counted down the seconds, remembering, reliving, cherishing. How odd it was now, to gaze up and not choke on an empty vacuum, to actually know she could breathe safely in this space. New yet unfamiliar. Unmarked yet touched by her. She had a lot to do, and maybe while at Omega, she could start decorating this cabin. The bugs were gone, but it didn't mean it didn't feel less like home. She would make it hers. Find pads full of info and scatter them, maybe find a pet again. She had a huge fish tank now, so she could have some fish. Seeing from the shelves lining her desk, she could collect models again and spend hours trying to put them together until she was forced to ask Garrus if-

Her eyes closed.

"You've waited enough now, everyone. I'm coming home."

Shepard was pinged silently as they pulled up alongside Omega, sitting up slowly before moving immediately to the cargo bay, suiting up as Jacob did the same, staring at Lawson and her catsuit of an outfit. She caught on, giving a noncommittal noise and an eyeroll before moving toward the docking bay. She shook her head, checking the sights of her sniper rifle once more before following suit, pausing only to address the command center.

"If anyone needs supplies, or extra goodies to hide in random parts of the ship, now is the time. You have six hours to do so, and be careful. We all know the dangers of Omega. Can't lose crew already now, can I?"

It got a weak response, but some did jump for the airlock as they exited, met with a salarian. She didn't mind beggars too much, but once the batarian came toward them, barking at them to go to Afterlife to see Aria, she knew her time here would be horrible. While she could easily suppress the uneasiness of being barked at by batarians, she didn't like being told to see people on a whim. She carried on, taking in the smell of Ryncol and the faintest lingering scent of a lot of things. Red sand, for one. A mixture of other drinks, the sweat of both patrons and mercs walking around. Miranda whispered about a horrible experience the last time she had been here, and she passed it off. This wouldn't be the cleanest operation, and she knew it. It was Omega, after all.

Eyes forward.

She walked past the growing line of people attempting to enter Afterlife, ignoring the encroaching group coming at her with a sharp shimmer of her wild biotics, putting them in their place for now. The pounding music and laughter of dancers hit her ears immediately, filled with the smell of alcohol, drugs, sweat, and desperation. Her eyes came to the overhanging sections looking over the entire dancefloor, smiling gently. If there were to be a ruler of this place, you gotta have the best seat of the house. She could see the guards watching her, staring holes into a phantom come to life. Jacob and Miranda were rigid, as expected, but she kept going, always moving.

Up the stairs passed guards, to the Queen of Omega herself. The ever sharp Aria T'Loak. To say holding a conversation with was amusing was an understatement, but she made a decent first impression. As she idly chatted with the Asari, gathering information and just causally speaking with the Queen, she fell into a comfortable place.

Control. Casual speak. Refreshing looseness over uptight professionalism.

But she knew eventually she had to break from Aria to continue her original mission, bidding the Asari with a casual promise, bringing her to a smile, which surprised even her. Sensing her party members were getting unnerved, they moved on to Aria's recommendations to get to Archangel. The recruitment room for the Blue Suns was small, but it worked for what she needed to do. The process wasn't professional at all, and it told her what she needed about these groups. They were pushing everyone at Archangel to get to him, and even now they were unsuccessful. However, on the way out, bumping into a spirited human teen wanted to join up, Shepard's inhibition told her to stop him. After waving his new gun around, she quickly grabbed it from him, slamming down on the stock and breaking it. Sabotaged from the start, whoever sold him the gun was trying to get him killed. Handing it back with a smile, she left with a simple remark.

"You'll thank me later, kid. Move on from merc work before it kills you."

The ride out to his hideout wasn't the smoothest, as it was a Blue Sun member driving the shuttle, but it gave her time to think at least. She didn't know what to truly expect when she got there. Perhaps a stronghold, maybe a choke point. If they were to the point of hiring mercs to help with their problems, it meant they were low on troops and desperate at this point, but they still had enough in them to keep pushing for Archangel. That alone was a clue to how strong, or just how resilient this person was.

The landing was nothing but rocky, landing to the sounds of orders to locate someone and the pounding hits of sniper fire hitting clueless mercs who stuck their heads out too far. Ducking their heads, they moved smoothly into another room, slyly moving around them to get through, plucking a data pad off a set of crates and moving on.

Useful information, credits taken, medigel and ammo. The common collections. She leaned in on meetings and other mercs and members of the gangs, learning. Watching, carefully observing. They arrived with little fanfare to their meeting point, instructed to prepare to deploy to the choke point and get Archangel. She watched curiously from her spot next to the airship, looking up at the shifting body up in the nest Archangel made. She could do this, no problem.

She ensured the airship would be part patchwork, and hacked a very unguarded mech, before joining the next team of mercs to storm the castle. It was too easy to start killing them as she moved across the bridge, ducking as one shot from behind. She ducked behind the little cover and spun out, her hair flying, only to be hit with a round from above. It did little more then bounce off her kinetic shields, but it was still a shot against her. Anger boiled as she looked up at Archangel, but quickly calmed, moving forward.

Once the remaining squad of mercs were taken care of, she ascended for the main room, Archangels hiding spot. Instructing Miranda and Jacob to stand guard, she entered. Her eyes picked up the little details. Empty c lips scattered across the floor, weapons in various positions of use and disrepair. Stims surrounded the sniper, another in his hand and quickly pressed into his thigh. It was obvious now he was a turian. She lowered her weapon, her biotics softly flaring.

"Archangel?"