There was a smile pressed to Shepard's mouth, a familiar, warm weight on top of her, pinning her to the sheets. She loved Ashley like this - not without her sharp edges, but with her guard down, with one of Shepard's hands tangled in long, dark hair and Ash's fingers touching the sensitive skin around her amp. Loved her like this, sighing into her mouth and pushing into her hands when she touched her, and then the laugh and the sting of teeth on her bottom lip, her neck, when Ash caught on. She always did. Loved her when she pushed Shepard's hands down and grinned at her. Said my turn first.
Shepard had never minded Ash taking what she wanted from her, not so long as she got to take care of Ash afterwards. She didn't think a lot of people had in Ash's life. Put her first.
Loved her afterwards, with her languid and smug, curled together so Shepard could kiss the curve of her spine, a bare shoulder.
Loved her -
And woke alone.
When Shepard opened her eyes, it was to the soft hum of the Normandy's drive core and reactor idling and the distant roar of the storm outside, muted through two layers of hull. She sat up, sheets pooling at her waist, and rubbed her face. Her body felt a bit stiff and bruised, but just the usual from combat.
Ashley. When was the last time she'd dreamt about Ashley - and not the twisted nightmares the Protheans had planted in her head, where she got to watch her die over and over again? Dreamt of the laughter, the times they'd shed their armour together.
The night before Shepard had left for the Omega-4 Relay there'd been no laughter. Just tears and hands gripping hard enough to leave bruises behind. And then Shepard had gone and there'd been no reply to her email to say the Collectors hadn't killed her.
"Fuck."
She pressed the back of her hand to her eyes and breathed in deeply. Alright. She couldn't control what anyone else did, couldn't blame Ash for being angry, for having her line in the sand. Keep moving, be the object in motion.
Pity that felt harder than it once had been.
"Commander," EDI's voice filled the cabin, "Kal'Reegar wishes to speak with you in private."
"Sure. Tell him to come up in twenty minutes." She had no idea what counted for local time on Hagalaz, but by shipboard time and her own routine, she'd slept in.
Twenty minutes later she was fresh from the shower and dressed in dark pants and jacket, the closest thing to a uniform she had now both the Navy and Cerberus were behind her. Not that she'd ever deigned to wear Cerberus colours.
A knock at the door. Reegar was as punctual as ever. What she would've done to have him as a sergeant in a few hairy situations.
"Come in."
Kal'Reegar stepped through the door, hands clasped behind his back. She'd never quite gotten past his wall of professionalism, and a part of her admired him for it. Reegar was a man confident in his place in the universe.
His head tilted slightly - was he glancing at her armour, still laid out on her table? Perhaps he disapproved. A younger Shepard, a Shepard before Alchera, would have.
"Ma'am," he said smartly.
"How can I help you?"
He signed, audible through his suit vocaliser. "I received orders from the Fleet."
"They want you back," she surmised. Han'Gerrel's tacit permission for Kal'Reegar to remain in his post of protecting Tali couldn't last forever, especially now their mission against the Collectors was over.
"Yes ma'am. I think…" he shook his head, "I've been in contact with fellow Marines, and the fleet has been buying munitions, warships - everything they can get their hands on. They've recalled the pilgrims."
"Shit," she crossed her arms, "they're going to war." It made sense, in light of Tali's trial. That had stunk of political maneuvering - but so soon?
"Yes," his voice was grim.
"Your bosses have the worst fucking timing in the galaxy," she said flatly.
"They're bosh'tets, ma'am," he said so matter-of-factly it startled a laugh out of her.
She sobered. "You're still going back."
"I have my duty. If not to them, to my Marines."
She got it, she did. Lofty ideals mattered less than the guy next to you when the bullets started flying. "I understand. When we leave Hagalaz, I'll organize passage for you back to the fleet from the nearest port."
"Thank you, ma'am," he said politely.
She raised an eyebrow. "Have you told Tali?"
His shoulders slumped slightly. "No. Not yet."
"She'll understand," she pointed out, gently. She'd felt that Tali was probably making whatever was going on between her and Kal'Reegar more complicated than it could be - but she wasn't really in a position to judge anyone's romantic choices.
"I know," Reegar said.
She understood what he didn't say. That Tali's understanding wasn't what he was worried about. Tali had a self-sacrificial streak a mile deep.
Rael'Zorah had a lot to answer for.
In the end she just nodded. The situation wasn't what any of them wanted.
"Please look after her, ma'am," his voice dropped, his posture tense.
"Tali is very dear to me," Shepard said honestly, "I'll watch out for her as best I can. I promise."
"Thank you." They shook hands and Shepard watched him walk out the door, his normal military bearing betrayed by bowed shoulders. Then she dropped onto her couch and pressed her fingertips to her temples.
The quarians were going to war. Probably within the year if they were ramping up militarization this quickly. If they'd already been quietly preparing.
Fucking fantastic.
EDI's voice floated through her cabin once again. "Commander, Doctor T'Soni has requested your presence aboard the Shadowbroker vessel when you are free."
"Tell her I'll be right over - and please let Miranda know we'll need to organise passage for Kal'Reegar."
"Of course."
When she found Liara aboard the Shadowbroker's ship, she was engrossed in the central operations room, a blue info drone spinning idly above her shoulder. When Shepard walked through the door, the drone drifted towards her.
"Greetings, Shadowbroker."
Shepard arched an eyebrow in Liara's direction.
The asari turned, and shrugged. "That's the Shadowbroker's old VI assistant. It's been...helpful in making sense of the broker's network, but it doesn't seem able to distinguish between me and others. I need to play with the settings later."
"My manual is available whenever you have a moment," the drone chirped cheerily and then floated back across the room.
"He really didn't expect anyone else to be here, huh?" Shepard observed.
"Hubris has its pitfalls."
"I like what you've done with the place," Shepard said wryly. It'd taken three of them to push the yagh's body out the airlock, but now all the debris and blood from the struggle in this room had disappeared. A few of the support pillars were still splintered.
"I'm still learning the yagh's systems, but I've already found some information you might find useful. His network was extensive - he had connections to the asari and turian governments, and traded intel with more than one salarian dalatrass. He knew about the Reaper - I think this is why he helped prove Saren's guilt to the Council."
That felt like a lifetime ago, but it did make sense as to why that volus banker and Shadowbroker agent had been so very helpful that day on the Citadel.
"But then he started dealing with the Collectors."
"I think he was looking for a way to survive what is coming. And you were…"
No escape, the Prothean ghosts on Ilos had said. Why did everyone think they could negotiate with genocidal, ancient spaceships? "I was a bargaining chip."
Liara's expression softened with sympathy. "It appears so."
Shepard cleared her throat. "You said you had intel for me?"
"Have a look at this."
Shepard looked over Liara's shoulder and frowned. All too familiar - communications between pirate leaders and records of ships gathering in the Terminus. A common prelude to an attack on Alliance colonies.
"We'll need to forward this to the Alliance."
"I have already done so. Given what I've found, I believe I can also leverage this to help encourage the Alliance and Hierarchy governments to continue to build up their militaries."
"The batarians won't like that," Shepard observed.
"Well, ironically, an arms race is probably beneficial at this time."
"So long as it doesn't kick off an actual war," Shepard said dryly.
"Indeed. A fine line to walk. Overwhelming, isn't it?"
"Can always blow this joint up," Shepard said softly.
"We both know I can't," Liara's smile was gentle.
That was it, wasn't it? Walking away hadn't been an option since Nihlus had stepped aboard the Normandy.
"I know. What's your plan?"
"Encourage militarisation, industry - and keep the salarians from assassinating Wrex."
"Heh. Maybe we ought to hire him a food taster."
"I'll be keeping a close eye on his security, not to worry," Liara agreed.
"Well…" Shepard glanced around the room, "all we have to do is save the galaxy. Piece of cake."
"I don't know what cake has to do with it, but it appears so. There's a terminal over there - feel free to browse it."
As Liara turned back to her own work, Shepard warily approached the console. Temptation, a search field gently blinking at her.
She started safe. Cerberus. Active projects and operatives. Something called 'Project Overlord' in the X System. Active infiltration of human companies, media - the rot was deep. Information she could act on herself or send to Coyle to be forwarded onto Major Riley.
Finally, she gave in and typed her brother's name in. Midshipman Nicolas Laurent-Shepard. That still didn't feel right.
And then her stomach sank. He'd selected Titan for his second year summer training. She'd hoped, deep down, that he was following in their mother's footsteps. SWO or even aviation in the Navy. Not the Marine infantry. Not to follow in her footsteps.
It was all too easy to keep typing the names, drink in the information on lives that had gone on while she'd been - dead, a popsicle, whatever.
"Are you alright?" Liara called over, blue eyes concerned.
She must have made a noise.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"Oh, Shepard, I'm sorry." Over her shoulder now, Liara standing behind her with sympathy on her face.
Shepard grimaced and closed the holo of Ash's arm slung around a tall, handsome man's shoulders.
"I was dead. She had to live her life."
"That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," Liara's hand rested gently on her shoulder. "You could talk to her-"
Shepard shook her head. "And say what? Maybe if I was going back to the Alliance anytime soon - but I'm not."
Who was she to ask Ashley to wait when she couldn't give any promises? Who was she to insert herself back into Ash's life after everything?
The elevator ride up to Shepard's cabin was quiet, Miranda clasping her hands in front of her. Vakarian was similarly silent. They may have established a working relationship, but they'd never be the small talk types, though Miranda suspected they shared some concern about Shepard.
The Commander had come back to the ship and gone straight up to her cabin before sending for the two of them. Another disagreement with T'Soni? They seemed to have patched things up.
Vakarian knocked. They both had clearance from Shepard to enter her cabin when needed, but the least the woman deserved at this point was some courtesy.
"Come in."
Shepard was waiting for them on one of the lounges, a handful of datapads scattered in front of her. Once they were suited she tapped one of the datapads. "Liara is paying for drydock time for us on Illium." The ship certainly needed it. They were making do with a few more patch jobs than Miranda was comfortable with. "She's also agreed to pay for some of our operating costs, including the crew's wages for those who are staying with us."
"Good. That's one big problem solved."
"Yes," Shepard agreed, "thjjough there's still the whole..."
"What to do with ourselves?" Vakarian suggested.
Shepard nodded. "No employer, no sponsor, no orders. Just the three of us. It's not like we can just start shipping freight."
"And the Council is still insisting you contain your operations to the Terminus systems, I imagine," Miranda crossed her arms. Sometimes it was terrifying to think about it - what she'd thrown away by resigning. A life's work. The past year had been a gradual, painful awakening to what exactly that life's work had been all along.
"Of course," Shepard said dryly. "I found some information in the Shadowbroker's network about a Cerberus project. 'Overlord'. Which, Miranda, we really need to talk about Cerberus' grasp of operational security, I mean Overlord, Lazarus-"
"Shepard," Miranda said patiently.
"Right. Anyway, it seems related to AI. I was thinking we'd crash the party. Any research we can pass onto Citadel governments is a plus in my book."
"And we'd interfere with Cerberus operations," Miranda pointed out.
"Objections?" Shepard's gaze was measured.
"No." There were people in Cerberus Miranda still believed the galaxy needed - but Shepard was willing to listen to her these days. They'd cross that bridge when they got to it.
"Garrus?"
"I trust your judgement," he said calmly, "but we still need to consider the long term."
"I've asked Liara to look for targets of opportunity. Technology, Prothean artifacts, research - that sort of thing. I'm still a Spectre. We can still help the war effort."
"I've always wanted to be a space pirate," Garrus said lightly.
"I think I prefer 'space privateer'."
"Unsponsored space privateering is just piracy, I think."
"Semantics."
"Shepard," Miranda broke into the banter, "the Terminus is a particularly unstable region. We could also consider assisting those groups, governments and individuals who will be willing to fight when the time comes - and more importantly, will consider otherwise unpalatable alliances."
The Alliance was a slow-moving, inflexible dinosaur, but she had to admit that Shepard was right. They'd need its combat divisions and its fleets when the Reapers came. Any war effort that wasn't unified was doomed.
"Regime change, in other words," Shepard raised an eyebrow.
"Something the Alliance trained you in, if I recall correctly," Miranda pointed out.
"I was trained in foreign internal defence, thanks."
"Semantics."
"So, where is this Project Overlord?" Garrus asked.
"Aite. Here's what the Shadowbroker had on it..."
"Lurking again, I see," Joker tilted his head to the side to see Shepard.
She smiled that faint, crooked smile, "You know me. I love some lurking. How're we doing?"
"Portside thrusters are still pulling, but that can be fixed in drydock. This girl needs some TLC."
"That's for sure."
"Be nice to be paid again," he said with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, yeah. No regrets?"
"About what? I was in Cerberus so I could help you." Leather seats weren't enough to keep him on the hook once Shepard had blown them off.
"I just...I don't think the Navy is going to be an option anymore. I don't know what the future looks like - for any of us."
"I burnt that bridge a long time ago," he admitted. Nearly three years ago now. He might have jumped before he'd been pushed but he'd left smoke behind him. As far as the Navy and a few former friends were concerned the break up was mutual. "Besides, I prefer taking your orders than the Illusive Man. You creep me out far less."
"Thanks, I think," she scoffed.
"You wouldn't creep me out at all if you stopped the looming thing."
"And ruin our thing? I couldn't do that to you Joker."
"Ha ha," he muttered sarcastically.
"What about you, EDI?" Shepard asked, glancing over at the soft-blinking blue holo.
"You are my captain and Jeff is my pilot," the AI said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything. Maybe to her, it did.
"There you go," he shrugged, "AI tick of approval, fearless leader. We're with you."
"Guess so. Call me up when you're ready to jump."
"What, don't trust us with a Relay jump unsupervised?"
"Let me pretend to be useful, Joker."
Through the cockpit viewpoint the stars elongated into streaks of light. The galaxy at his fingertips.