I shake my head and walk away from the dance floor, find myself a good defensive spot to keep an eye on things, and give Garrus and Tali some space to work on that fledgling romance of theirs. I know Tali's disappointed I'm not joining them, but I can't please everyone all the time. Besides, I'd embarrass her, and I know it.
I could be a great dancer, if I followed everyone's advice: dance like no-one's watching. The problem is, people are watching. They're watching my every move. People know who I am, they recognize me as the first human Spectre, and they expect perfection.
I wouldn't mind, but it's a little unfair to expect someone under the intense stress I'm under to be good at something that requires you to be loose and flowing. Some mornings, it's agony just getting out of bed at all, and I'm starting to wonder whether I'm paid enough to put up with this shit from the Council, from the Alliance, from Cerberus.
I could go it alone, I could go privateer. I know what I'm doing in space. I was born in space, raised in space. I never even saw a sky, blue or otherwise, until I went to Marine basic training.
But if I go it alone, I run the risk I won't have the resources to fight a prolonged conflict against the Reapers. Figures it's Cerberus that's taking the Reaper threat seriously. I don't like working with, for, terrorists. It goes against every fiber of my being. It's not how my mother raised me, not how the academy raised me. Worse, it's created a rift between Kaidan and I that I don't think can be overcome.
Unfortunately, the Systems Alliance and the Council are ignoring me, sticking their heads in the sand and pretending the threat isn't coming. I'll get no help from them until it's too late. Like it or not, I need Cerberus, and they need me. They're constantly monitoring me though, far more intrusively than the Alliance did. I can't take a step on my own damned ship without EDI watching, or that Aussie waste of oxygen undermining every decision I make, reminding me that I'm not really the Captain of the ship, they just treat me like one just enough to make a pretense at placating me.
But in the privacy of my quarters, I can finally be myself. Some days though, I hate myself. I'm changing in ways I don't like. Maybe it's combat stress, maybe it's because of Cerberus, maybe it's spending too much time around Reapers, or maybe I'm just getting too old for this shit. Old at 40? Maybe that classic movie was right; it's not the years, it's the parsecs.
And tomorrow, I'll be parsecs away, jumping through a mass relay no-one has explored with a technology no-one has tested, and praying it all goes to plan.
