Paralysed
Kaidan watched as the Collectors gathered the bodies of those around him. Susan. Rajesh. Mary-Anne. People he had been getting to know, some more reluctant than others. Good, honest people, trying to make a living on Horizon. Trying to make a life. People with children. Children who were now captives of the collectors.
He fought against the paralyzing toxin he had been injected with. His body felt cold, wooden, refusing to respond to his demands that his fingers move, that his legs lift his feet from the ground.
The Collectors filled their coffin-like pods with the latest victims and retreated, leaving the remaining colonists for the next load. Kaidan waited, struggled, hoped that the toxin would wear off soon. Or he would soon be inside one of those pods himself.
Minutes dragged by. And still he couldn't move. They would be back soon. He'd seen the massive ship land, visible in the corner of his vision. They'd be back to collect him and the rest of the colonists, that fucking defense gun useless against them without its targeting system working properly. Did that make this his fault, for not getting the thing working properly?
God, to have it all end like this… Regrets ran thick through his mind, all the things he had wanted to do, imagined he would do with his life. A lot of those dreams had died along with Shepard, two years ago, and despite the persistent rumors that he was alive, Kaidan didn't dare hope too much. Desperate people would tell all manner of crazy stories, and any rogue human merc, given the right attitude and confidence, could start rumors of a legend returned from the dead. He wouldn't believe idle rumors. Didn't want to believe them. Didn't want to remember that voice, those vivid blue eyes, that come-hither stare. Couldn't bear to remember the feel of warm skin against his own…
…and it was taking an awfully long time for the Collectors to come back. Not that he was eager for them to return, but what was taking so long?
Gunfire! An explosion, off to his left, out of his line of sight. What was going on? He tried to move again, failed, wished he could at least curse at his failure, but not even his lips would move to mouth the words. Had something interrupted the Collectors? And was it friend, or foe?
Then he saw something moving at the edge of his vision. Something… red? And something else, blue. What was that? Not Collectors. Had some of the colonists escaped? If so, they should stay in the shelters! There were still a few of the large, insect-like creatures flying around…
A turian! He would have sworn that was a turian, getting just a split second's clear look at the person's head. Had the council finally started taking the threats seriously? Or were they perhaps mercs, or pirates, come to loot an already devastated colony?
He tried to tell himself to wait patiently for another glimpse, a futile exercise given that he was paralysed, and doing anything other than waiting was impossible anyway.
Yes, there it was, movement! The shape of a pair of legs beneath the prefabs. A second, definitely turian, and a third, human, or perhaps asari, like the first pair had been.
More gunfire, then shouting, just too far away to make out the words. More struggling… and his finger moved. He could feel it, slow, cold, a faint tingling sensation. He kept flexing his finger, trying to get a second digit involved, even as he kept his eyes peeled for the elusive trio, perhaps rescuers, perhaps enemies. But if they had interrupted the Collector's mission, then they were welcome here!
The figures stepped into view again, paused… just on the edge of his vision. He tried to turn his head and failed, concentrated on the shapes, blurred as they were. A human. Not blue enough to be asari. A turian, taller than the others, that distinctive shape encased in blue armor. And a figure in white. Not clear what species that one was.
And then he saw Collectors, moving in around them. He wished he could shout a warning, wished his slowly flexing finger was closer to his own gun's trigger. Then the three figures scattered, guns firing rapidly, the blue surge of biotics obvious even from his dubious vantage point. A brief battle, then the trio regrouped, further into his line of sight…
Shepard.
Kaidan felt his heart leap into his throat and he pinned his gaze on that tall, straight, confident figure. Good god, it was Shepard. And Garrus. And another human woman. Shepard! His hand clenched into a fist, but would move no further. Shepard…
He was alive. And fighting Collectors.
Then they were gone, slinking away around the prefabs and then more gunfire filled the eerie silence. Kaidan's neck loosened up, letting him turn his head a few degrees. Please, don't let Shepard leave without the chance to talk to him… Two years. Two years of grief and guilt and mourning… How the fuck was he even alive? Adrenaline was pumping through him now, his heart racing, his body as immobile as ever.
The sounds of battle drifted towards him from further away. An extensive battle. Well, that explained why the Collectors hadn't returned. They were busy fending off Commander fucking Shepard. And if he hadn't seen them take a dozen of his friends and comrades, he might have even felt sorry for them.
Waiting was torture. More fighting… and then the BOOM-BOOM of the Guardian lasers. Shepard had the defense towers online! Then a huge blast, a light filling the sky, and the Collector ship lifted into the air… as Kaidan's legs finally began to respond. He straightened, stiff and cold, shifting one foot sluggishly in front of the other. Headed straight in the direction of the latest battle, abandoning the remaining colonists around him, as they slowly started moving.
He got closer as his body warmed up and started responding properly. He heard voices, a man, a woman… and Shepard. There was Shepard's voice, strong and firm and sexy as hell… God, had it really been two years? It seemed like only yesterday he had held the man, kissed him, watched those lips issuing sharp commands and longed to feel them on his skin. He didn't know what to feel, urging his body to move faster. Longing, to recapture the past. Anger, at not having been told he was alive. Fear, that he would disappear again, that this would all turn out to be a dream, a hallucination.
And then he could finally make out the words, recognised Delan's voice. "Shepard. Wait, I know that name. Sure, I remember you. You're some type of big alliance hero."
"Commander Shepard," Kaidan said, walking forward, heart in his throat. "Captain of the Normandy, the first human spectre, Savior of the Citadel. You're in the presence of a legend, Delan. And a ghost…"
