Chapter 2
All Shepard could feel was pain. His hands were burnt; the armor on his body was melted, seared to his flesh. He could smell only his own roasting meat, as he ran through an ashen forest. Flakes of soot fell from a dull gray sky, as he searched for the source of the screaming…
He'd been in this forest before, countless times before, it seemed. Yet, somehow, Shepard couldn't find his way, fumbling about in despair…where was that voice coming from? Where was the girl crying out his name?
As he crested a hill, Shepard caught sight of a young girl, no more than six years of age. She looked so familiar…
Several dark shadows gathered around her, shrieking feverishly at the frightened girl. Shepard growled his rage, scaring off the shadows. As he reached the girl, he reached out a broken hand, beginning to remember who she was…
As their fingers touched, the girl crumbled before him, a frigid wind carrying her away like grains of sand. Shepard began to scream in agony, as his outstretched arm began to crack and fall apart like cheap glass…
Shepard woke with a start, his body awash in a cold sweat. He cradled his head in his hands, massaging his temples, trying to remember where he was…
A gruff sound to his left jarred Shepard from his reverie. He glanced sideway, recalling the lithe, naked body of the tattooed woman lying beneath the covers. Only someone suicidal would call it a snore. Still, her breathing broke through haze of the nightmare, forcing a smile from his lips.
A rustling from his right caught Shepard's attention. He carefully freed his body from beneath the covers, drawing a shiver from the other woman beside him. The man softly covered her supple blue skin with the sheet, caressing her thigh; and finally extricated himself through the foot of the bed.
Shepard silently trekked from his bedroom into the adjoining bathroom, splashing water in his face to chase away the phantoms of his fitful dreams. He carefully investigated his reflection, noting the slight scars from his reconstruction.
What a tame word for it, he thought darkly. Anyone else would have called it death, regardless of how he'd managed to cheat it. He sighed, drying himself before getting on a pair of sweatpants, and flexed his hands. He spread his right palm out in front of him, trying to hear the whir of the servomechanisms that made up his joints. Though he knew that most of the bones had been replaced with metal, he didn't feel so much as a creak. Shepard couldn't decide whether to be grateful, or chagrined.
As was his wont, the soldier pushed aside his worries, looking forward to his morning workout, anything to take his mind off things. Shepard walked out of the bathroom through a side door, making his way into the stairwell overlooking the flat. The windows of the apartment tinted against the sunlight shining in. Shepard basked in the warmth of it, making his way down the stairs.
He stopped at the view of the Citadel outside his flat. The man shook his head, still unused to seeing Earth on the far horizon, beyond the wings. The planet lay past the outskirts of the station's atmosphere; the wings themselves constituted what had to be largest space station ever created.
'Never mind the fact that it houses a population rivaling most planets,' thought Shepard wryly, 'and most of the damn politicians that run said planets…'
Shepard threw aside all thoughts, clearing his mind as he stepped onto the workout mat of the sunroom. He started off with a standard hundred each of pushups and crunches, before squaring off against the punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Sweat dripped in rivulets from his face, running in streams down the straining muscles of his bare torso.
As he punched away his frustrations against the bag, he started to imagine the ghostly images from his dreams…recalling memories of his childhood. Those memories turned to the razing of Mindoir, everything he had ever known drowning in flames; the vision melded into the battle that had consumed him on Elysium, during the Skylian Blitz.
Something from beyond his field of vision caught Shepard's attention, and he spun, thrusting out his left arm in a whirling backhand. A bare blue arm caught his attack, biotic fields flashing along the smooth skin, diffusing the force of the attack.
Liara winced slightly, a look of concern in her face, as she studied Shepard. The biotic field slowly dissipated, leaving her in her black tank top and matching shorts.
Shepard blinked several times, as if only just remembering where he was again. His eyes widened in shock.
"Liara, are you alright?"
She looked at him for a moment, admiring his glistening muscles, before shaking her head and throwing a towel at his face, "it will take more than that to take me down."
Shepard nodded, as he patted himself down with the cloth, "sorry, I just zoned out for a moment there."
"Nightmares again?" she asked, her smile turning once more into a frown of concern.
"Just tension," he asserted, shaking off the question and making his way to the kitchen, grabbing some juice from the steel refrigerator, "got a meeting with the Council today, after all."
"Hmm, I'm sure," followed Liara, "where to now?"
Shepard grunted, guzzling down a glass, as he checked the holovid on the fridge.
"Huh, Garrus is canceling poker night."
"Is that what you call it?"
"Hey, we play poker sometimes," he protested, "probably just as well."
"Expecting another assignment?" asked Liara.
He nodded, putting on a light tee shirt, "so I'm going to test some side-arms. I'll probably run into another holdout of Remnant…"
Liara nodded. In the wake of the Reaper War, civilization (under the Citadel races) had won. However, the victory had not been without cost, and remainders of the Reaper forces still plagued some of the outlying systems. Without any actual Reapers to Indoctrinate and subvert more subjects through mind control, the danger was limited. Still, the Remnant, those already under the thrall of the Reapers, remained a threat.
"I don't like you going out there," replied Liara, "we don't know what the Remnant are up to."
"The Council is sure that they are just operating on instinct," said Shepard, without much conviction.
Liara responded with a chiding look, which drew a smirk from the Spectre.
A loud yawn broke through their conversation, and both of them turned to see Jack stretching as she walked down the stairs. Her eyes were half-closed, a loose fitting red silk robe barely covering her tattooed, and otherwise naked, body.
"You two are still too damn busy in the mornings," she groaned, brushing dark auburn hair from her eyes, as she raided the fridge, "where's the meat? Ah…"
She emerged with her spoils, throwing the meal onto a plate and placing it into a microwave. A few moments later, Jack grabbed her food, then collapsed down into a chair, stretching as self-contentedly as a cat.
Liara laughed, "good morning to you as well. Are you heading off to the Cube already?"
Jack snorted, speaking through mouthfuls of food, "yeah, I can't believe they made me a damn instructor there."
Shepard shrugged, "you seem to be doing well, and your work at Grissom Academy was already well known."
"Miranda said the same damn thing last week," she rolled her eyes in reply, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two landed me that job just to keep me around."
Shepard gave her an innocent look, raising his arms in faux-confusion.
Jack glared for a moment, before breaking into laughter, "alright fine, you bastard, it's actually pretty fun. One of my students even followed me down here. He'll make a pretty good instructor himself, in a few years."
"How's young David handling things?" asked Liara.
Last time she'd met David Archer, he had been with the other students at Grissom Academy, under attack by Cerberus. Before that, Shepard had rescused him from brutal experiments in controlling AI, primarily geth. She couldn't imagine the mental fortitude required to bounce back from something that horrific.
The tattooed woman nodded, "he's doing much better. It's thanks to him that we've got a tech division at the Cube in the first place. It was mainly a biotic training gym before."
At least some other good had come of their involvement with Cerberus, now young David would have a life to call his own.
Shepard nodded, "heard he left a sweetheart back at Grissom Academy though."
Jack shrugged, "he'll get back on the next shore leave. By the way, I expect to see you there today, before you go in to see the Council."
Groaned Shepard, "I really don't need any training Jack, I'll be fine."
"The fuck you say," countered Jack, "sure, you've got power. Any fool can see that, what with blowing the Collectors to hell, then taking on the Reapers."
"So what's the problem?" demanded Shepard, already knowing the answer.
"The problem," answered Liara, "is that you're latent biotic abilities didn't come into full swing until Cerberus…reconstructed you."
"Right, the 'upgrades,'" sighed Shepard. The Lazarus Project that revived him had gone well beyond mere surgery.
"Besides that," continued Jack, "you fucking died. And from the minute you were vertical again, you didn't take one second to get a shakedown, not even after the end of the War."
Shepard grinned, "I think the both of you shook me down plenty."
Jack arched an eyebrow, refusing to be derailed, "cute, but I still need to run you through some biotic skills training, get a feel for your level. You need to know your own limits, if you're going to get into a fight."
"Besides," added Liara, "nobody's been in your…predicament before. We need to be sure…"
Shepard raised his hands in exasperation, "by God you two! Fine, you win! How the hell am I supposed to argue with the both of you?!"
Both women smirked in triumph, raising glasses to each other.
Shepard grunted to hide a chuckle, turning to get his ID lanyard off the coatrack, "well, I'm off to the C-Sec gun range, I'll see you at the Cube later."
"I'll be right behind you," said Liara, "I need to try out a few new weapons as well."
Shepard nodded, making his way out the door.
After he had left, Liara sat down, across the table from Jack. The asari sighed, running her hand through her head crests.
"The dreams again, huh?" asked Jack.
Liara nodded, "why won't he tell us about them?"
"Garrus and Miranda have been working on him too," Jack shrugged, "things he's been through, I'm not surprised. That shit's not easy to talk about, believe me. I spent most my life trying to forget…"
"But that's what we're here for," Liara said in frustration, "doesn't he trust-"
She placed her hand over Liara's, squeezing them reassuringly, "hey, don't do this to yourself. You know it isn't that."
Liara looked up at her, "you didn't see the look on his face…when he found out what had been done to him."
The asari shuddered, remembering the destruction of the original Normandy, and how it had shattered all their lives.
"Goddess, just seeing what was left of him after…"
Jack lifted Liara's chin, "that wasn't your fault. Shepard came back to you, to us. Nothing can change that. He'll tell us when he's ready."
Liara smiled, softly resting the other woman's hand back on the table, "I know…trust him, right? How could I not?"
"Well," Jack smirked, "I did take him away from you for a while."
"I suppose, though I wasn't with him for the Collector Base," replied Liara, "so, considering you brought him back to both of us, alive, I think I can forgive you."
The asari kissed Jack's hand, before rising, "better get to the firing range before it's too late."
"I'll see you at the Cube," nodded Jack.
