The Illusive Man strutted into his inner sanctum and took a seat in his chair. One of his lovely assistants appeared with a folded serving stand in one hand and a tray full of his items in the other. She set the serving stand down and meticulously opened it with her free hand whilst trying her best to not accidently slip the tray onto the Illusive Man's threads. Then, she set the tray onto it and handed him one of the objects: it was a Glencairn Glass, perfect for drinking his favourite whisky out of. The assistant picked up another one of the items—this time a bottle of bourbon—and held it out for his approval.
The Illusive Man examined it. "Jim Bean—Black label", he uttered. "Distilled to perfection in Kentucky." He nodded and gave the bottle back to his assistant and gestured her to open it for him.
"You know the usual," he said. "Halfway full."
The assistant poured the drink into the glass the way he liked it; she waited expectantly after that.
He swirled the glass and sniffed it, its wooden aroma filling his lungs. He took a sip of the bourbon, its deep flavour bringing him back to the glory days of his youth. "Hand me a smoke, please," he ordered as he put his drink down on the tray.
The assistant grabbed a fancy gold case from the tray and presented it to the Illusive Man. "Treasurer Cigarettes—Aluminum range, Gold label," she announced. "High-end brand shipped directly from London and personally delivered to you. The case is yours to keep as well, courtesy of The Chancellor Tobacco Company."
"The best cigarettes humanity has to offer," the Illusive Man stated. "You ordered exactly what I wanted—" he signaled her to open the case for him—"Most definitely luxurious. You should try some for yourself."
The assistant smiled as she handed him a cigarette. She picked up the matching gold lighter and flicked it, its small flame igniting the end of his cigarette.
He took a long, deep drag, letting the nicotine fill his lungs. He savored the fine tobacco, its essence reminding him of the days he spent back on Earth in his summer home as a privileged yet naïve young man. These items were exquisite, indeed. Definitely the best humanity has to offer, and more so with the resurrection of humanity's best Marine…
The Illusive Man exhaled, the thick smoke causing the assistant to cough. He gave her permission to leave and she curtsied before exiting the inner sanctum.
Once no trace of her was left, the Illusive Man activated his widescreen HUD. Several windows showed up and he scrolled through them until he found what he needed. He came across a window showcasing Commander Shepard's quarters, and he tapped the screen twice to enlarge the window to full size.
It was a live video feed, where he could see Shepard walk around a bit then come dead centre into his point-of-view. She was standing in front of her bed, looking fabulous in all her high-definition splendor. The Illusive Man smirked; he always knew he had good taste and was definitely right in his choice of women's fashion. The gifts he lavished Shepard with were stunning on her, and she seemed to be reveling in it. This stroked his ego a bit in knowing just what to give the ladies in order to make them feel sexier. Shepard didn't know it, but the Illusive Man had been fixated on her ever since he shelled four billion credits just to bring her back to life. There was something about her that sparked his loins and made him go wild with desire. Perhaps the fact that she was strong, nubile, keen to follow his pro-human agenda, and had a hot and toned body to boot all had something to do with it. Regardless, he was her secret admirer, and she didn't know. She would never know, and he planned to make it stay that way. Because although she was tough, he was domineering and more powerful than she was, and he would always have control. He placed his drink down and relaxed a little in his chair, eager to know how the Commander would pleasure herself tonight.
He could see her turn around and unzip the back of her little black dress, lowering the zipper ever so slowly. He immediately shot his hand towards the fly of his trousers and undid his belt and zipper. He was annoyed in having to fumble with the thing with one hand just to get his package out, so he put his cigarette down on the ashtray and wasted no time in undoing his trousers. Successful in his little mission, he whipped his cock out and began stroking it.
The zipper on Shepard's dress reached the end, and she pulled the top of her dress off her shoulders. The Illusive Man noticed that she undid her clothes slower than usual for all the times he had spied on her, and he wondered whether or not she was doing it on purpose. He shook his head; it was impossible for her to find out about his voyeuristic tendencies. He just wished that she would hurry it up a bit despite his appreciation for her rarely seen formal look.
Shepard slipped the dress down her waist and shimmied a bit as she pushed them further down her thighs. She bent over a little as she eased herself out of the dress, unwittingly giving the Illusive Man a nice view of her derrière. He sighed in satisfaction, his cock becoming erect as more of Shepard's flesh was exposed.
He liked her choice of lingerie: silky black knickers and strapless bra, made out of Chantilly lace. He figured her taste would be as fine as his, having grown up in a rich military family and all. That was another thing he liked about the Commander—her interests and desires rival his, and he just adored women with class. However, he was a bit surprised to find that she was wearing thigh-high stockings, for they weren't noticeable when she had her dress on. But then again, they were nude in colour and so sheer that they made her legs look sleek. The Illusive Man flaunted a lascivious grin; it was like Shepard knew what he wanted her to wear underneath her dress, for he very much loved it when a woman wore stockings.
He picked up the cigarette that rested on his ashtray and resumed smoking it. He exhaled in the direction of Shepard's buttocks, amused at the fact that the fumes were blowing all over it—or at least, the 2D HD representation of it. He gave the screen a hard tap of his fingers, as if to simulate the slapping of that fine ass. Obviously nothing happened, but that didn't stop him from fantasizing. He leaned back into his chair and took another puff of smoke, all the while stroking his cock with his free hand as he watched the Commander strip away her lingerie little by little.
(Meanwhile, back on the Normandy…)
Most of the crew had gone to an early rest, with a couple staying awake for the upcoming night shift. Hardly anyone was in charge of the bridge, and only Joker was left, leaving EDI to run the rest of the show. It was pretty much lights out at this time, both figuratively and literally. The bright lights of the Normandy's interior dimmed to the level that they were back on the SR-1.
"Aw damn it, EDI, did you really have to lower the lights back to shitty Alliance standards?" Joker whined.
"Mister Moreau, the dimming of lights allows me to simulate the night cycle. It also lets the next workers ease into the night shift," EDI noted matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, yeah, like that last time you deliberately did it just to spite me."
At the sound of Joker's speech, EDI reduced the lights even more to the point where the only objects that were still glowing were a handful of emergency lights and the various terminals scattered everywhere. The cries of confused workers sprouted all over the place at the increased reduction of brightness.
"Okay, okay! I get it! Now stop it—stop it! EDI!" Joker shouted as he batted EDI away despite her being constantly stationary.
She brightened the lights a little, yet they were still dark enough for night cycle simulation.
Joker croaked a sigh, annoyed that he had to put up with the AI's antics. "Uggh great, now I'm gonna have to be stuck in submarine land for the next eight hours with no one but a dumb machine to talk to."
"If you insult me on more time, Mister Moreau, then I could do more than just turn the lights off for you," EDI threatened.
"Okay, okay, never mind—sorry!"
Joker groaned as EDI vanished; he hated working the night shift. It was nothing but boring star after boring star, boring planet after boring planet. I'm on a ship, it's going faster than light…ugggh hate having to cross systems, he grumbled. He made a mass relay jump just an hour ago, which was always the quick and easy part. Now he had to go from Osun and take a detour through Faryar in order to get to Sowilo. The voyage from one system to another was pretty much straightforward, but he hated how long it would take the farther the distance between systems were.
"Man, why couldn't Shepard just have infiltrated the Shadow Broker's lair after we get done in dealing with the Collectors?" the pilot protested. "That way, I wouldn't have to keep flying back and forth just to pick up stupid deliveries on time from Liara."
Several minutes had passed and he was already getting bored at staring out into the expanse of the Hourglass Nebula. The ship was awfully quiet during these hours, leaving little for the pilot to entertain himself with. He could try messing with EDI again, but then that always got old really fast—plus, she'd most likely torture him if he dared to insult her one more time.
Grumbling out of boredom, Joker decided that he'd see what the crew was up to. He pressed one of the buttons on his dashboard in order to access the video feeds. His screen showed the CIC, where only a handful of people were present.
"Boring," Joker remarked. He pressed the button to switch cameras; the crew's quarters came into view.
"Booooring," Joker commented again. He started to mash the button now, completely unimpressed at the fact that not much was happening on any of the decks. He mashed it so recklessly that the feeds radiated white noises and became unavailable.
"Aw crap," Joker muttered. He slammed the button down with his fist several times until he fractured his finger by accident.
"AH—shit!" he howled in pain. "Shit, shit—shit!"
Irritated at the fact that he cracked another bone, he put the ship on autopilot. He rose from his seat and started limping towards the elevator. "Great, now I gotta go to the med bay and see the doc at the most inopportune moments!" he complained melodramatically to no one in particular—save for perhaps EDI.
"This is the consequence you deserve for not being careful, Mister Moreau," EDI spouted as she sprung to life next to the elevator.
Great, now I really wish I had a mute button with me, Joker mused with annoyance. "Well, misery loves company, doesn't it, EDI?"
"No comment, Mister Moreau."
Joker palmed his forehead with his intact hand and shook his head; this was going to be not only just another boring shift for him, but one full of aggravations as well.
As he shuffled into the elevator and let the door close in on him, he did not notice the static on the helm HUD dissipating and the screen returning to normal. And little did he know that EDI was messing with him tonight in more ways than one, for she wittingly patched a feed from the captain's quarters.
End notes: Yes, I totally lamp-shaded the Normandy lighting issues of the ME trilogy. They were actually okay in ME1; a little too bright for my tastes in ME2, and in ME3...damn it, Alliance, who turned off the lights!? I can't even see my Shepard's face at times. Did you guys get another cut in military spending or what? ME3!Normandy already looks awful as it is what with all the retrofitting going on.
Well anyway, more chapters are coming soon. Let me know how I'm doing by leaving a review. Thank you!