Ch 26: Omnisexual

Yeoman Kelly Chambers had never been so miserable in her entire life.

Commander Shepard was down, a casualty of a virus he had never seen coming, an enemy that couldn't be shot or omnibladed or renegaded to death. Their shared quarters on the top deck of the Normandy had grown eerily silent, bereft of his voice, her flirtations, and the varied and colourful sounds of love-making.

She was slowly feeling her sanity slip away. It was a terrifying thought, that she might be losing everything she was to a crazed, nightmarish emptiness, an emptiness in all the wrong places. In the Commander's genitals' absence, her mind had grown muddled. The fish she had once so devotedly fed had been left for dead, forgotten and floating like flotsam in the wall-length aquarium. Shepard would be ever so angry with her once he'd returned, to see the prized fish for which he had scavenged the galaxy now turned belly-up. He'd be a seething mess of self-righteous indignity and loss-induced despair, absolutely reeking of unchained emotion… Perched alone on the bed, Kelly grinned in anticipation.

But hope for the future was her only satisfaction, for the present gave her none. And as time wore on with slow tick-tocks, the usual longing within her grew to a size even she couldn't have imagined in her wildest fantasies.

Whatever was a girl to do?

"Oh, my!" Kelly gasped.

Before her lay Shepard in a medically-induced coma – as per his request as soon as he'd arrived in the medbay. The pain from the sore throat, body aches, and clogged sinuses had finally become unbearable. The only other patient in the room was Kaiden, just as far under as his Commander. Faces relaxed and peaceful from their blissful ignorance of the external world, they looked like a pair of stubbled cherubs.

"Oh no! Is he going to die?! Please say it isn't so, doctor! What on earth could I do with a dead teddy-boo?"

Chakwas placed a hand kindly on her arm, old face wrinkled in a reassuring smile. "The Commander should be fine in no time, now that he's been brought to me—"

Kelly felt her knees buckle in relief. "Thank the Maker! … How much time, if I might ask…?"

The doctor shrugged absently. "Two, three days, maybe more. Maybe less."

"Wha—well, which is it? Two or three? Not … four! I don't know if I can wait that long…"

Chakwas blinked with surprise as Kelly fell to her knees before her. "It's difficult to say… This isn't an exact science, Ms. Chambers. But I assure you, I'm doing my best to speed the process of recovery. God knows the galaxy needs its hero now more than ever."

"The galaxy?" Kelly's voice reached a high-pitched squeal. "What about me? … I mean," she quickly corrected herself as Chakwas raised an eyebrow. "Us. And the crew. I'm terribly afraid of how the Commander's infirmity will affect the psychological state of the crew."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think that can get much worse... Not that I would know anything about that," she added, taking a swig of brandy.

Painfully, Kelly crawled over to Shepard's bed. It was a depressing sight. He looked so … so small on the Alliance-standard mattress, so limp in his comatose state, so impotent with tubes and wires keeping him alive. Her curious hands naturally felt their way along the Commander Shepard abs, and the feeling brought her some comfort, but also new worries: She couldn't help but wonder how much muscle atrophy he'd suffer after two or three – or even four days – in a comatose state. "My poor babykins!" she sniffled, holding back the tears that promised to burst forth. She didn't turn from the Commander's body as she addressed the doctor. "Is the coma … dangerous?"

Chakwas hesitated. "There is always … some level of uncertainty when comas are involved, but medical research has made great leaps in the past few decades —"

"Is he still … aware?" Kelly asked, kissing him lightly on the eyes. Her hands hungrily caressed his body.

"Of his surroundings?" Chakwas crossed her arms. "There's some debate about how aware coma patients are of the external environment. Likely he's not perceiving anything at all. But if you want to talk to him, I won't stop you—"

Her hands paused over one particular area. Her eye twitched. "Is he still … responsive?"

"Jacob, eat your cereal."

A handful of humans had crowded around the mess table for breakfast, but all neglected their rations to watch with amusement as Jacob tore through cereal box after box – all were amused, that is, except one. Her tight-lipped frown was just as piercing as her eyes. While she normally didn't take breakfast in the mess hall – or eat cereal – her office was being fumigated after Grunt had come storming through it during his krogan rage, completely upsetting her computers, papers, and senses. But this scene before her was hardly an improvement.

"Jacob, I won't ask again. You're making a complete fool of yourself. Eat your cereal."

"I am not making a fool of myself," Jacob grumbled, turning away from Miranda as he emptied another box of cereal onto the table. He sifted through the rings of whole grain, brow furrowed in intense concentration. But after the ninth box he had again come up with nothing, and with a swipe the cereal went raining onto the floor in a dry clatter. "I know it's here somewhere…"

"That some special reconnaissance technique they teach in Cerberus special training for special Cerberus operatives?"

Miranda glared icily at Ashley, but restrained herself from sinking to the other woman's level. "Jacob, stop playing with your food—"

"There's supposed to be one in every box—!"

"I don't care! Get Gardner to clean that up and—"

Shouting from behind. "OUT!"

All, even the distracted Jacob, spun in their seats as they heard a commotion coming from the other side of the deck.

"Out, out! Out of my medbay! How can I be expected to heal my patient if you're … drooling all over him?! OUT!"

Kelly looked back bashfully as Chakwas slammed the sliding door in her face. "How very silly!" she tutted. "I don't drool!" Her green eyes lit up as she sighted the dining crowd and skipped over.

"Top o' the morning t' ya, Kelly," Traynor greeted in a mock Irish accent. "You hungry?"

"Oh, very much!"

"Want some?"

"Yes, please!" she grinned, approaching the communications specialist.

"Joker, pass her a bowl. Fill 'er up with the best cereal in the whole damn galaxy," Traynor enthused, with a wink at Gardner, who just rolled his eyes.

"Cereal...?" Kelly blinked in confusion.

Joker shook his head. "There's none left – well, there is, but it's all on the floor –"

Kelly's ears perked up. "On the floor?"

"So I said, with thanks to the five-year-old sitting to my right – so unless you wanna get on your hands and knees and –"

"YOU!" Jacob shouted, jumping to his feet to stare accusingly at the man sitting at the opposite end of the table.

James was slowly waving a winged toy plane in the air, a wide grin plastered across his muscled visage. "Vroom… Vroooom!"

"Where did you get that?"

James glanced up with surprise to find the normally cool and collected Jacob Taylor glaring two inches away from his face. "Uh, hey, Pornstar. I was jus' pourin' my Tony Tiger 'n' foun' this li'l fella—"

"Give me that. I won't ask again."

James' lower lip trembled. "Bu' … I foun' it!"

Suddenly the two men were locked in a grapple hold. In the commotion the plane was tossed to the ground, where it met its untimely death under a crushing heel – and both knew the other man's boot was to blame. The swings and kicks redoubled in fury and somehow shirts were lost as the desperate pair began to wrestle under the table.

"Ooh? What's this?" Kelly said, lips pursed out. She hated to see anyone fighting; she was a lover, not a fighter. But as she entered the fray, trying to pull the two apart, she only succeeded in pulling them both closer toward herself.

Finally Ashley stepped in, pushing the fighting parties aside, who were still clawing at each other's throats and spitting like feral cats. "Step back, Kelly; I've got it."

"I see! But—"

"Cheese and crackers, you two, quit it! It's just a goddamn cereal box prize—hey!" Ashley exclaimed as the brawl took another nasty turn, and it took all her Alliance-trained soldier might and Williams will to keep the two apart. "Shouldn't you be with Shepard or something?" she hissed at Kelly, who was again generously trying to lend a hand or two.

Kelly's eye twitched as she slowly turned from Jacob and James. "Yes, of course…"

The room was dark and dry, but only silent as of a few seconds ago.

Thane wiped the film of tears from his eyes. "I haven't spoken about my wife and son in a … a long time. I see them whenever I close my eyes, but to talk about them again…" the drell swallowed, making his throat bob. "I … appreciate the sudden interest, but, might I ask – why?"

Kelly watched intently from across the table, eyes blinking with a bright green innocence that reflected like algae in the dark pools of his own. "No reason, really… You just seem so lonely sometimes."

"Oh." He suddenly noticed that Kelly's hand had found its way onto his own. Despite the surprisingly tight grasp, he slipped his away with the ease with which he slipped in and out of the shadows. "The life of an assassin, as I learned the hard way—" He cut off as his eyes focused on a point just above Kelly's shoulder, following it closely as it whizzed around.

Kelly leaned closer. "Tell me again how you only have a few months left to live…"

"Don't … move," Thane cautioned in a lowered voice, hand reaching out toward her. Kelly closed her eyes, grinning, but she was not the assassin's target; with a speed and accuracy that could only be taught by the hanar, he plucked something from out of the air.

Kelly stared at the fly buzzing its wings uselessly between his green thumb and greener forefinger. "Wow! How amazing! Did you just—"

Thane popped the fly into his mouth. "Yes."

Little bits of black guts speckled his otherwise perfectly white teeth – and also perfectly straight, omnivorously square and proportioned. Kelly lightly rested her head on her hands. "You know, I never really noticed before, but for a lizard person you have such a perfect smile…"

"Some humans say we look more like frogs, whatever those are."

"Oh, they're being terribly cruel."

"I wouldn't know the difference." Thane stood abruptly to see her out the door. "You have my gratitude for the chat. Perhaps we will talk again."

"'Talk'?" Kelly's eye twitch had returned in full force. "Oh, of course… talk. Well, if you ever need anything, anything at all – and I do mean anything—"

"You just said that."

"Anything, anything you haven't done since your wife – bless her alien soul – passed, and I'll be here." She was nearly out the life support control room door when she suddenly spun around, a sickly sweet smile spread across her lips. "Hmm? What was that? Did you say something?"

"No."

"Oh, I thought you called me 'siha.' How silly of me."

"I did not."

"I know. You just said—"

"Please leave."

"…and do you notice these glyphs here? Once I have translated this segment of the language read-out from its original prothean, I may uncover what the Catalyst actually is – and the key to saving the galaxy. Some of my colleagues believe it is just a giant weapon, but I doubt the protheans would make things quite so easy for us. Unfortunately, my progress has been slow. I keep hinting to the Commander that I could use a living prothean to help, but I suppose he has never been one for subtlety… If I had known we shared an interest in the prothean species, Kelly, I would have included you in my studies earlier. Few others pay it much attention. What sparked your interest?"

"Oh, my! Well, you seem to have caught me here. To be honest, my interest is in your species, Liara."

Liara looked up from behind her terminal. She scratched absently behind a scalp crest. "I see. Is this for some … psychological research? I am always happy to contribute to science."

The yeoman pulled up a chair as Liara waited expectantly – pulling it a tad closer than Liara had expected. "I've always admired asari… A race of women against the galaxy. Very … Amazonian," Kelly added, batting her lashes.

Liara blushed. "That is a common misconception. We do not refer to ourselves as women; as we only have one sex, we never had to differentiate between—"

"Only one sex!?" Kelly exclaimed, a hand slapped to her mouth in shock. "How dreadful! Such a shame to limit yourself."

The asari rushed to explain, "I just mean, we never evolved with – what you know as – men, so …" But she felt herself grow flustered. It was an asari's worst nightmare to try to explain their complicated sexual system to outsiders, how their own species had evolved to look perfectly like the women of other (particularly human) species while "men" remained conspicuously absent. Since the science behind this apparently chance event was difficult to comprehend, most asari boiled it down to serendipity and the mysterious ways of the conscious universe.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable … maybe let's change the subject?" Looking around for inspiration, Kelly found her curious eyes were nonetheless drawn back to the exotically tinted asari sitting three feet from her. "I'm a wee bit jealous, Liara. You sure know how to wear a lab coat. Snug in all the right places, hmm?" She leaned closer, if possible. "Could I … try it on?"

Liara felt herself lean backwards against the wall. "I would rather you not. I am … umm, not wearing much underneath—"

"Oh, that's okay! We're both girls here, right?"

"Actually, we are not, as I just said –"

"You don't have to kid around with me, Liara," Kelly giggled, eyeing the asari up and down. "No one believes that…"

Liara suddenly stood with a blue blast; the outward force of the biotic energy frizzled Kelly's hair, only adding to her harangued look. "I cannot believe you, Kelly! Shepard is in the medbay and here you are, trying to … to …"

Kelly jumped up from her chair, sending it tumbling to the ground. She took a step forward. "Oh, you're right. I'm being terribly naughty—"

"Stop it! I am quite serious!" The biotic tendrils rolled over Liara's curves as naturally as it did for any asari, but something in their power lent to her voice, and as she spoke her words came starkly strong. "You should be ashamed! Shepard may be … brash, womanizing – or asari-izing – and domineering; he may have no respect for alien cultures; he may treat the rest of us like dirt under his boot; he may be more in touch with himself, so to speak, than his own feelings – but he does not deserve this!"

Kelly looked down, eye twitching, fingering at the bottom hem of her shirt. "Of course, Liara, you are right." She smiled sweetly, but there was something uncharacteristically sour hidden behind her tone. "You're such a good person, you know. It's no wonder Shepard's always talking about you."

The asari blinked as the blue light illuminating her form diminished by a few candelas. "Pardon me?"

"Liara this, Liara that… And he always makes me wear that tentacle wig." She grinned, looking again up at the asari. "Now I know why. So very silly I didn't see it before." Something unspoken traversed the short distance between the pair – unspoken mainly because neither was entirely sure what that something was.

Liara was the first to break eye contact as she turned back to her terminal. "Please … leave. Now."

The day was drawing to a close, but a game of cat and mouse was afoot – and the poor mouse knew nothing of the cat's hunger, except that it was about to become its next victim if it couldn't find someplace to hide, fast.

"We require assistance!"

The geth's photoreceptor flashed red as it rushed across the crew deck, searching for any allied lifeforms, but all had retreated to their personal server hubs to re-energize themselves for the following solar cycle.

A high-pitched voice was calling down the corridor. "Legion, where are you…? Where are you all, is that right…?"

Bouncing from foot to foot, Legion urgently scanned the immediate area for cover. If only it had been created as a geth hunter, it would have had some tactical advantage, for this enemy was especially persistent and intent on close quarters combat—

The carbon-based lifeform popped her orange head around the corner. "Found you!" she squealed.

—plus it would have been able to hide in plain organic sight. Instead, Legion attempted a last-ditch diversionary tactic. "Remain at a distance … this platform is damaged!" it warned, unaware that the promise of damaged goods would only draw the unit designated as Kelly closer.

"Aw, I know! I've seen that big wound in your chest…"

Legion's varied programs quickly considered whether or not to activate an attack drone, but they came to the consensus that Shepard-Commander's preferred platform could not be damaged. Just as they were beginning to reconsider, the medbay window caught Kelly's eye, and she paused mid-stride. With much thanks to the Creators, Legion took the opportunity to escape into the elevator, jamming the button to close the door behind it.

Kelly slowly approached the window looking into the medbay. The lights were off inside and all she could make out in the glass was her reflection. Her pupils skipped around as she soaked it all in: pale, shadowed-eyed, shaking like an addict undergoing withdrawal. Placing her perspiring palms on the cool glass, she noticed that the light on the door was green. Maybe … it was a medbay, after all; there must be something in there for her, just something to calm her … nerves …

The room remained dark as she entered; Chakwas must have called it a night long ago. Kelly tiptoed toward the medicine cabinet, trying to remember from her time in university which drugs would do the trick – as part of her psychology training, of course – but again, a distraction caught her distracted mind.

The body rested under a thin white medbay blanket. It was the kind of blanket that left nothing to the imagination – not that that made much difference, for Kelly's imagination was never lacking. The sheet slowly moved an inch or two up and down as the body drew in air.

Her eye twitched.

Unresponsive, Chakwas had said. Kelly frowned. She had never met an unresponsive man, woman, alien … well, anyone. That would just be silly. Silly. So terribly, absolutely, dreadfully silly…

With much relief, Kelly gave into the overpowering pull that was drawing her ever closer. It was like she was watching herself from the outside, an out-of-body experience, and she saw herself slink over to delightfully muscled form in the darkness, and she felt herself hop lightly on top, and she heard herself coo, "Oh, Shepard, my diddly-dum, my cutie-tootie Commander bunny-bum…"

A pair of dark eyes snapped open, staring up into her own.

"Ooh, I knew you were in there somewhere! But … wait …"

Those eyes widened in horror.

Black turned to blue. The night of the medbay fell as if a giant blue sun broke suddenly over the horizon, sending its righteous light to illuminate the dark and dirty – and sending Kelly smashing into the ceiling –

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKK!"

– where she remained despite her legs pedalling in desperation to be grounded once more, the biotic swirling mass intent on keeping that distance between herself and its progenitor, whose fear was even greater –

"AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!"

– and they likely would have remained frozen in that state of terror for some time, the electric discharge rapidly building to dangerous levels, had their wrenching screams not awoken the man in the next bed over –

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

– and the ten-foot biotic pole snapped, and Kelly slammed back onto Kaiden, and all went to hell.

"Commander, sir, please, I didn't … she …!"

"BABE, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Sheppykins, h-he was just lying there, and—"

"KAIDEN, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

The Normandy comm beeped. "Uh, what did I just see—?"

"JOKER, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK!"

"AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH…!"

"… and you should have seen it, it was so terrible, all the yelling and fighting and I just wanted it to stop! but then he socked poor Kaiden right in the face, such a shame, and … he said the most horrible things, how he hopes I get melted into Collector goo, and so many other things I dare not repeat because there were lots of bad words but they were so mean and … and … y'know?" she gasped as sobs racked her body.

"Yeah."

It remained an unsolved mystery to Cortez why women always came to him with their relationship problems. His best guess: he was one of a small handful of crew members to have had a successful relationship with a man – a relationship that had been sealed in holy matrimony, sure, but to call it successful, after it had ended in … such a way …

"…and then he said we're through, just like that, and oh, it's so horrible, because now I don't have a bed and he kept my undies and toys; all I've got is a change of clothes and my toothbrush – there isn't even any toothpaste! – and sleeper pods are oh so uncomfortable and there's never enough space for two or three and …" Arms held tight around herself, Kelly shuddered. "Like, how can he be so cruel, getting all sick and … and comatose and expecting me to not … to not …" She hiccupped. "Wasn't that just wrong of him?"

"Sure. He should've known better."

"Exactly! Men are always like that. I turn my back for two seconds, and suddenly they're sick or dead or busy, and I'm none of those things, so what do they expect?" She wiped away her tears, smearing mascara in a thick black stripe. "Oh, you must think I'm a complete mess, blubbering away like this… But it's oh so good to get it all out, so thank you, Steve. It's awfully nice of you to get up in the middle of the night for me."

"You said the Kodiak had exploded."

"I know, and you're such a good listener. That's a very attractive quality, you know. Say, how about I freshen up and you and I…"

"…Kelly, you know that isn't going to happen…"

"Oh, well. You can't blame a girl for trying."