From the first time Shepard had been proposed as a Spectre candidate I knew she'd be trouble. Looking at her career there was nothing that suggested she'd be anything but a thick necked jarhead. I feared that if she was chosen to be a Spectre, to be out there in the Galaxy representing the best of humanity, she'd be a elephant in a porcelain shop. I was right. She was rude, she was offensive, she was a coward and a bully. And god help us, she was the best hope for humanity. – Ambassador Udina: War Diaries 2183-2186
Poor old Udina. He came closer than any of my friends or allies in understanding my real character. We were too much alike perhaps for him not to realise that like him, I was indeed a coward and a bully. I was having great fun reading his diaries a hundred years after he'd died. It had taken so long to release them because people thought I would be offended. Far from it. My reputation was safe, couldn't be smeared by the petty revelations of a long dead traitor. I'd won, and reading his rantings was the best form of celebration; after having actually killed him of course.
It did however, as I was sitting in comfortable silence on our bungalow's veranda watching my little blue grandchildren playing Spectres and Geth around the lakeside with their Turian, Quarian and Krogan friends, made me think that it was time to write my own memoirs as well. Having uncle Grunt visit us on Rannoch, one of the last of my friends still alive, had made me think back on our adventures as well. It also made me think of Ashley.
Ashley Williams. I hadn't thought about her in decades. She was long dead of course, lacking my and the Lawsons' longevity fixes. But in that moment it didn't matter that the Reaper Wars were a hundred years in the past. I was there again, on Eden Prime, alongside her and Kaidan Alenko, fighting off seemingly unending hordes of Geth, scared shitless and trying not to show it.
In my nightmares I can still hear that metallic chatter Geth made during combat, that hideous screech as you killed one and knew a dozen more would move in, see the glare of those stupid flash lights coming around a corner. I knew my wife had them too, I'd been woken up by her too often not to realise that.
Dear sweet Liara. Even when we first met I knew that innocent, naive archaeologist act of hers was as phoney as my war hero one. We were two of a kind and we recognised each other immediately. We could each fool the universe, but never each other. She knew I was a coward, never as heroic as everybody else made me out to be and I knew that behind her innocent façade was a soul old in sin. No wonder it had been love at first sight.
Not that this had ever stopped me from pursuing other women of course. There were so many of them over the Reaper Wars they almost made the nights in which I hid in my quarters puking my guts out from pure fear worthwhile. Even now I can remember them all. Ashley, warrior maiden in her white and pink armour, Samantha, chess playing comms nerd, Jack the psychotic biotic, Miranda and Oriana Lawson – sadly never together –, Kelly Chambers. There were always plenty of people willing to comfort Commander Shepard.
Liara knew all about them of course, if not at the time then later, when she had become the Shadow Broker. Not that she could talk. I've suspected her of more than her fair share of dalliances as well ever since I caught Kaidan making goo-goo eyes at her on the first Normandy. What with Ashley being mad at me for cheating on her and Kaidan trying to get in Liara's pants, I was hard pressed to decide who to get rid off on Virmire.
As I sat there reminiscing, my thoughts drifting to what had happened a century ago, I felt that same cold fear I had throughout the war creep up on me again. Had I known then what I knew now, I would've run away as far from that blasted ship the Normandy as I could, find a safe hole to crawl into and let somebody else save the galaxy. But that's hindsight talking. At the time I was as blessedly ignorant as a newborn babe.
I was also in delicto flagrante when the knock on my hotel door came that set me on the path which ended with me saving the Galaxy, almost by accident and completely against my will. Just having gotten myself acquainted with a very willing partner, I was in no mood to answer doors, but whoever the bugger was who was knocking, he was a persistent so and so.
Therefore like a fool I opened the door. When I loudly demanded to know what the corporal that stood before me wanted, he stood speechless, mouth agape.
"Well, out with it man, why do you persist in bothering me on my furlough?"
It was only when I caught him looking down, that I realised why it was he was so flustered. It is not every day that you see the door opened by the commander you're bringing her orders too, wearing the top half of a full dress uniform complete with Star of Terra, just her knickers underneath but with the high heeled spurred boots that went with the uniform, as well as that ridiculously plumed cap. It hadn't been my idea, but the filly I was sharing the bed with, the esteemed rear admiral Mikhailovic's wife had a thing for dark haired, dark eyed, heroic marines in full uniform and who was I to disappoint her. She had been a rare randy bit, a welcome relief after the months of enforced celibacy on my last tour.
At last the hapless marine had recovered himself enough to hand me my orders, salute and walk away, more quickly than was usual the case. I was curious to see what they were, had good hopes that it would be a nice plum assignment and when I saw I was to be assigned as the second in command of the new experimental frigate Normandy it looked like I got what I'd wished for. As I said, had I known then what I know now, I wouldn't have been so bloody pleased with myself.
The Normandy was to be commanded by captain Anderson, a stiff, moral prig, but one who had done wonders for my career ever since the Skyllian Blitz. It had been his commendations that had given me the Star of Terra. He always was a good friend to me. He never quite understood me of course, but that was because I always took great pains to make sure he didn't.
He didn't know I'd spent most of the Blitz hiding from the Batarians and I had been pure luck that had gotten me in the right moment at the right time to reap the rewards of my cowardice. So I emerged from that debacle as a hero, purely due to being the sole surviving Alliance officer, with any witnesses that could've told the truth safely dead. After that I only had to act the reticent, bluff marine, too modest to talk much about her heroics, to keep my reputation up. Doing some safe but high profile anti-piracy raids helped a lot as well.
And now there was my reward, a cushy and safe assignment going on a shakedown cruise with a hot new frigate. There was only one way to celebrate, getting back into bed with the rear admiral's wife for a third – or was it fourth – romp of the night.
A/N And so Shepard starts her career, but can you guess the inspiration behind this story? Thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming.