The following is a first person telling of Shepard's story. Please see the first chapter for the setting. The re-telling may stray from canon a bit, but will follow the general story. Mass Effect Two follows...here we go!
Reviews and especially critiques are appreciated. Thank you for the feedback, and enjoy.
Mass Effect is owned by Bioware. Thank you to my wonderful editor! You know who you are!
Alright, Mr. Pulitzer, let us call this "Mass Effect Two," eh? It is the second act of my fucking story. Probably a good place to put a break into your little prize winner, right? Bold letters, something with "Shepard continues..."
Interviewer comments.
Really? You're going to put a fucking break after Virmire? Wow, you're going to make me look like a giant fucking pussy, aren't you?
Interviewer counters.
Damn... I hate it when you have a point. Okay, what the fuck ever.
Aftermath of Saren, right? Still felt fucking good that I got my whole revenge shit out of the way. Unfortunately, I get the fucking pleasure of getting medals and shit after. Parts of the Citadel were trashed and the Council was dead, so I got ferried to Earth for some Alliance bullshit. See, I've gotten medals before and I know the horror that is known as a "ceremony." They parade you up there, make you wear your fucking dress blues and smile. I fucking hate smiling. And shit, Pully, there was a lot of fucking smiling.
First off, pro-human groups were all giddy over the potentially human controlled council...which was bullshit because the three big species would just put some assholes back in place. It wasn't like there would be ten humans on the Council. The fuck was everyone excited about? Politics weren't going to change... Didn't affect me mostly because I ignored the shit out of them... But yeah, why were people excited? I was goddamn baffled. I did suggest Udina, when asked... he knew what was happening, what was best for humanity. And what's best for humanity is normally best for me.
Interviewer encourages Shepard to continue.
So back on Earth, I get this fucking ceremony thing to go to. Being good old Johnny Shep, though, I... partied the night before. Being Shepard gets you laid. Being a Spectre? Gets you laid and free shit... Hero of the Goddamn Citadel? Fucking got whatever I wanted. Night before the ceremony, my first night back on Earth, fucking wild.
Free shots...free fucking Hallex. Every girl I could possibly get, for free. Most of them weren't whores...just sexy little tarts that wanted a piece of Johnny. Foursome. Dick in one, slips out with a nice little pop, jam it into the next pussy screaming for the fucking Hero. Just sweat and sex, my fucking c...
Interviewer yelps.
Shit, fuck you! It was just getting good, too. You still don't want my sexual conquests? You're just embarrassed that you're not this fucking awesome... Asshole.
Fuck...well, lets say it was a fucking wild night. Woke up in a pile of sweat and...stuff...on top of a bunch of strangers. Loved it, the rush of the whole "What the fuck happened? Holy shit it was awesome..." line of thought. Was ruined by my omni-tool buzzing cause I needed to be at the ceremony for my fucking medals. Stumbled out of my makeshift bed and suited up... Reeked of awesome. You know how they said I was sick? The thing that was broadcast all over the news? Yeah, it was a fucking sex crazed, drug and alcohol filled hangover.
Somehow stood on stage, half hungover smiled... Stumbled around because of "injuries sustained during battle." Nope.
Shepard smirks.
Ha ha ha, I still can't believe I vomited all over Hackett. Classic...
Let's see... Oh yeah, got to visit Vancouver, too...
Interviewer, regains composure and murmurs.
Yeah, I missed it... parts. The skyline. My city. People had changed it in the years I was gone. New buildings, old ones gone. The Black Widow was a piece of history; the Reds, I checked, there were fifty or so... Fraction of what used to be. I would've led those assholes to the fucking stars... My fucking gang, my fucking city, my fucking world.
But goddamn, good old planet Earth. A giant party... Cut short by the goddamn Alliance. You drag me there, and give me, what, two weeks to enjoy it? Well... Vancouver. Shitty ass shore leave. Give me a fucking month... I just saved the galaxy! Fuck that, though... No, we had to go look for geth or something... how about the Reapers, everyone? Didn't a giant fucking squid fuck up your goddamn Citadel? Even with the new and improved Council, no one listened to Johnny.
Let's bounce to a few months later... Fucking Alliance, again, had me doing patrol runs. I was itching to go rogue again, but they took my team away. Tali went back to her fucking weak ass fleet, Alenko got a promotion thanks to me, and Garrus had to go do some turian shit. Fucking turians...
If they had me doing anything, it shouldn't have fucking been goddamn geth borders. Put me in turian space. At least so I can knock off some pirates, right? Hell, Batarian Space would have been fun. But nope, it has to be one fucking massive shakedown cruise. Back and forth, looking for lost civies... no thanks.
Unintelligible comment.
Why didn't I leave? Resources, again. I was a fucking Spectre though so desertion really was on my mind. I wasn't doing anything fucking important. Should have gone rogue... I was going to. Collectors cut that short...
It would've been simple, really... sway some crew to my side, kill any dissenters and there we go. I would've hung around the Terminus, picked up a couple of guys like Zaeed, maybe a Kasumi Goto... Whoever would help me kill turians, batarians, maybe even fight the Reapers if they showed up. And, I was a Spectre... Technically, I didn't report to the Alliance, anyway. The whole thing, it would have been fun. Easy. Simple. And if the crew had a problem with it, they were replaceable. And I could pay well with all those creds I picked up hunting Saren...
I was about a day away from taking the ship; I probably would've needed to off XO Press, but everyone else was too scared to fight back. Joker, the fucking prick, thought I liked him. Followed me into hell a few times, he would have definitely joined me. Good pilot is the first thing you need when stealing a ship. Who would like that brittle boned walking stick of a person? No wonder he fell in love with a computer...
Unintelligible comment.
Yeah, first organic and AI relationship, there. The fuck is that about? Go find a real girl. There's probably some fragile girls out there that you could...rub against? Ha, Pulitzer, you think I could break a brittle boned girl while fucking her? Bam, bam, bam, craccckkk...
A request for Shepard to stop.
Damn, got me again. It'd be fun to actually break someone with my dick. It's that fucking strong, man. No, no, we're on the fucking patrols. No one hot to fuck, no one to scare, nothing to kill. Like I said, I was going to steal that fucking ship. Before the whole Collector shit...
Interviewer comments.
What the fuck do you mean I said that already? Fuck you, Pully. This is my own damn story.
So it's your average day on the fucking Normandy. Well, the whole rogue thing, but yeah, that got sidelined, eh? Day of the attack, I'm talking about... I'm sleeping in my room, nothing to do. A lot of pacing, a couple shots, the usual. Then, the alarm. Not the "oh shit, a fire!" warning... It was the "oh, shit we're all fucked" warning. The loud blaring... Burrrrrrp... Burrrrrrrp.
You get the idea. I fly into my armor as fast as I can because something was fucking wrong. Joker wouldn't turn that on just for shits and giggles. And the first hit, the Collector ship fucking tore off the outer armor. With one shot! One fucking shot...
Tough reliving this part... I can't see outside, obviously, so I'm blind to this whole shit. Imagine it as a big rock firing a laser. Some drums and tubas playing. Broooon...
I'm doing my best to save something on my boat. It was useless, obviously. I should have just bolted to the escape pod immediately. It would have been quite a different galaxy, then. Nope, I had to stay and try to save shit. Accidentally a good person every now and then, right? Fucking Johnny...
Joker is up in the front of the ship, calling for SOS, trying to go down with the ship. Honorable? No, he was just fucking stupid. I pop out from the lower decks into what used to by the galaxy map. It was incredible... Just blank space right above. A view better than Vancouver of the planet below...I stopped at looked for a second. Blue planet above...looked icy, like Europa back around Saturn. Bit of an atmosphere... damn beautiful. Yeah, I fucking said beautiful. Fuck you. Ass. Probably got me fucking killed... You know what they say...
Interviewer questions Shepard.
Really, you don't know? They say "it wasn't the ship. It was beauty that killed the Beast." Yeah, I know quotes and shit. I thought it was appropriate here. Hell, I thought you would have said it. You really aren't that smart, are you Mr. Pulitzer? Just for clarification, idiot, I'm the Beast. Dumbass... Lets go back to the fucked up Normandy.
So debris and shit blocking my path to the cockpit. Heh, cock... gets me every time. The last escape pod was right next to the pilot's chair, where Joker was breaking his little fists at the Collector ship. He was an asset, right? Had to save the fucker. He was right there, not that much out of my way... Of course it couldn't have been easy. It never is. I threw the asshole into the pod... I made an effort to break his arm... and then...
Shepard hesitates. The interviewer urges him to continue.
Yup, that's when the fucking beam hit. A few feet away; hell, the blast itself should have killed me. Slammed me against the bulkhead and I bounced. My left leg caught a fucking chair or something on the way and snapped my femur... Somehow my suit didn't break there. Hurt damn bad, but not for long! Hit the wall, broke my spine at the waist immediately. No more feeling in my legs, at least some of the pain was gone. Explosion, bouncing, then one more slam against a wall and I started floating...
I couldn't get my biotics going because I was so goddamned dazed. Then I felt the cold sinking in. And then the air getting out of my suit...
Interviewer is surprised. Shepard delays for a moment before continuing.
Yeah...most people don't know that I survived the initial explosion. I had the lovely privilege of suffocating in space, while freezing to death at the same time... Hell, I got a nice view of the Collector ship as it toasted the rest of the Normandy... Floating, just going out. Sinking towards the planet so I figured I would burn up in the atmosphere, anyway. Johnny, the little Red star...
I... it... Yeah, fuck this...
Interviewer is speechless.
Bet you didn't know the Butcher died this way...
In, out... In, out... I was focusing on my breathing. Basic survival stuff, trying to figure something out as I lost my air.
In, out... In and out... In... and out. It was getting harder, less in and more out. Cold, no air, just floating. The whole thing is a dream, really. I don't know when I lost consciousness...
Hesitation.
I guess I died. Not the cold, not the fucking ship, just suffocation. Just floating away... trying to breathe...
In and out... In and out... Out... Out... Out...
A/N: Thanks for reading. Apologies for the short length. The pieces just fell together strangely. Also, a poor attempt at drama. Hey, death sucks for even the biggest assholes... Will make up for it later!
Remember, stnemele's "Delving Into Hell." Currently under minor revisions, but it's great!