A/N: This story was inspired by a prompt on the kink meme:

Shepard is the most renegade of renegades. She's cold, cruel, homophobic and is so pro-human and anti-alien that she even unnerves the Illusive Man. And after nearly being killed by her numerous times due to her ruthless nature, the entirety of the Normandy hates and fears her.

Until someone discovers there is a fault with Shepard's cybernetics, a fault that allows someone to implant thoughts, feelings, and desires into Shepard's subconscious. So this person, having been horribly burned by Shepard for the last time decides to exploit it.

I hope you enjoy, feedback is much appreciated!

A big thank you to my beta: Marie-Fanwriter.

Note: I'm assuming that Shepard never recruited Garrus in ME1.

Chapter 1

Shepard

"What do you know about Archangel?" She asked.

She glared at the krogan in front of her. A sudden movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to the vorcha at his side; he was rolling his head to ease some kind of tension in his neck. The dull light shifting on every revolting feature of his alien head.

Only a twitch in the line of her mouth gave away her disgust. She looked away.

Her cybernetic gaze fell on the group of vorcha at the other side of the room.

One of them was laying on a cot, his limb were naked leaving his strange legs completely exposed.

A shiver ran down her spine. Freaks.

Just the idea of breathing the same air was nauseating.

She shifted her weight and her cold inhuman eyes were back on the krogan.

So this is the blood pack. She mused. An idiot with a bunch of sick dogs.The very worst of what Omega has to offer...

He chose that moment to answer her question, his eyes narrowing on her.

"He is a pain in the ass."

She refrained from snorting, instead choosing to roll her eyes.That was clear enough by now.

She was already sick of playing the part of the free-lancer. All she wanted was to charge in and get the work done, quickly. That was her best strategy for most missions… well, if leaving a path of blood could be considered a strategy.

But even she had to admit that the situation here was quite delicate; that stupid asshole has managed to piss off all three major gangs on the station and for some kind of stupid idealistic reason at that!

You are on Omega asshole, what did you expect?

And here was her favorite part. He was stuck all alone in his headquarters without exits and without an escape plan.

It would be hilarious… if I wasn't the one that has to find a way to save his stupid ass.

Why was the Illusive Man so interested in him? Why was he so set on collecting useless people all over the galaxy?

She briefly considered the poor bastards under her command.

She'd had Taylor wrapped around her little finger since the beginning. The plastic doll had proved to be useful enough in battles. But she was just a pretty face without armor to protect that nice ass of hers.

Decent enough bait to shove out in a nasty situation.

The salarian was necessary, to her displeasure, but the three of them were more than enough to get under her skin. So why the others?

The Japanese thief? The old mercenary?

Dead weight.

Project Zero… well, that mission has been easy to understand, it was the price to pay to play with Cerberus' shiny toys. And the new Normandy was a beauty indeed, fair enough, but why she had to drag along that psychotic bitch?

She would have been more than happy to send her back to the loving care of Cerberus, possibly as a package deal with the tank-bred krogan.

A krogan… she refrained from actually laugh at the idea. Really? free to wander on my ship? I don't think so.

Not after Wrex.

Too much trouble, not to mention the stink. She mused.

God, she was nearly glad for the destruction of the first Normandy. It had been impossible to get rid of the stink of him. Even after Virmire... stupid asshole. She thought coldly at the memory of his expression while he lay dying in the sand.

To be honest she really had a talent for losing squad-mates. And considering her mission she could use some more spare parts.

But not krogan, the club was definitely closed to krogan… and vorcha of course, and now that she was thinking about it there was only another race that she really couldn't stand…

"He's a turian."

Right.

The words of the krogan where drenched in poison but it was candy floss if compared with her own venom. She gritted her teeth mentally cursing the Illusive Man. The krogan continued his noisy grumble but she wasn't listening anymore. She stormed out of the room with her assault rifle at the ready.