Chapter 6: The Anger of a Good Man
Aboard the Normandy…
Awaking after a few hours, Shepard cast aside his bed sheets. The Normandy was now heading towards the Citadel, the heart of galactic society; there to pick up the last of the specialists he currently had dossiers for and to answer a call from Anderson. Padding across the floor in naught but a pair of night trousers he pressed the feeding button on his fish tank and went to his private washroom. As he showered he began thinking about the members of his squad he had recruited so far. In his mind he turned over what he knew about them, their strengths and their weaknesses.
Mordin, the Salarian professor, was a good member of the team. His quick mind, as well as the military training from his time in the Salarian Special Tasks Group, enabled him to read and react well on the battlefield and his medical knowledge was a bonus. As he had gathered from his interactions with Mordin, his work of creating a counter-measure to the Collectors' 'seeker swarms' seemed to be moving apace, if not yet complete. Yet the fact he had progressed thus far, with only a small tech lab and a modicum of available data, spoke of the Salarian's genius.
Shepard's mind then turned to his old teammate and, to an extent, pupil Garrus. He clearly recalled the shock and elation he'd felt upon finding out that HE was Archangel. In the two years since his…death…Garrus had matured from the slightly naïve young C-Sec Officer into the pragmatic vigilante he was now. But through all the changes, both mental and physical, he still retained both his devotion to justice and his quick wit. Shepard knew that, whatever the destination, Garrus would be there.
Stepping from the shower, hair dripping, he picked up his old-fashioned straight razor. It had been given to him by his late father, Captain Lucas Shepard of the SSV Valletta, upon his graduation from Alliance Boot Camp. It was a beautiful piece, the blade made of high quality Damascus steel and with a handle of polished Oak, upon which was inscribed, and picked out in gold paint, the words "Courage is not the absence of fear, it is the knowledge something is more important." As he ran the finely honed, across his jaw line, Shepard continued thinking about the specialists he had recruited.
Next he began thinking about the veteran mercenary, Zaeed. He may be gruff and Shepard didn't approve with some of his methods, such as destroying the refinery on Zorya, but he was decent enough. Good in a fight as well and possessing what seemed to Shepard almost supernatural good luck. The number of times his stories of past missions, which Shepard listened to down in the Starboard Cargo hold, that ended with the words "Only I got out alive" beggared belief.
Shepard grimaced slightly as his mind turned to the convict, Jack. She was not a team player under any circumstances; hell she was outright hostile to everyone. From what he'd gathered in their sporadic talks she'd obviously had a tough life but something grated at him about her. If it weren't for her tremendous biotic power then he'd have kicked her off the team. He'd keep trying of course, his father would spin in his grave if he gave up on any member of his squad, but it didn't mean he had to like it.
Grunt, from their brief chat the 'day' before, seemed to be…interesting. Sure he was as Krogan as a Krogan could be but there was something 'different' about him. He'd felt the same in his dealings with Wrex. There was a deeper facet to this Krogan, rather than just the normal thuggish mentality many of his race displayed. He would have to see how this new Krogan developed.
His mind then focused on the blonde fighter, Ethan. He was skilled, there was no doubt about that, but there was a hell of a lot of unknowns about him. When they'd got back from Korlus, after waking up Grunt and filling out his mission report, he'd got back to reading the intel file on him. He'd watched the vids of him saving the Turian General Hararn, once running after the assassin and decapitating him in one blow. Then he'd gone further back, gaining brief references to Morokaz in the Batarian Pit Fighter registries. His VI translator supplied the translation as an ancient Batarian spirit of death, who killed all who his eyes rested on. And before that was…nothing, not one thing. That was until a registry for a colony ship turned up his name, as a child of four accompanying his parents. He'd said he'd been in training since then but trained by whom? Pushing aside those concerns, he set aside his razor, his shave completed.
Then, as he left the washroom and put on his casual clothing which consisted of a black pair of trousers, boots, black shirt and orange over-jacket, his mind turned to the two Cerberus operatives on his ground team.
First there was Miranda. She was a total professional, unsocial to the point of seeming aloof and well just…cold. The fact that when they'd first had a real conversation, aboard the station he'd been taken too to meet with The Illusive Man at, she'd admitted that she'd wanted to implant a bloody control chip into his head made him a bit wary of the Cerberus operative. But then again, she was a professional and The Illusive Man had given her a job to do. As long as those orders didn't change he was fine.
Jacob, the other Cerberus operative, was all right in his eyes. He seemed solid, dependable and a little happier to be taking orders from him than Miranda seemed to be. The fact he was part of Cerberus seemed to be becoming increasingly irrelevant as it appeared he had joined not due to any hate towards aliens but just, as was becoming increasingly apparent throughout his dealings with the Normandy team, a desire to actually DO something about the state of the Galaxy. Hell, Ash had had more reservations about serving alongside aliens than the supposedly human supremacist operatives he found himself serving alongside.
Shepard paused as he stepped out of his cabin, remembering the woman he'd fought beside and…cared for. He remembered their first meeting on Eden Prime, amid the fighting, the Geth and the dead. He remembered the chase after Saren, her at his side, each growing ever closer to the other. Then that almost moment whilst the Normandy was grounded. Before finally, that night on route to Ilos. He still remembered it vividly, the feel and scent of her skin, her lips touching his. Shaking his head free of the memories, Shepard strode into the elevator and made his way into the body of his ship, as it made its way through the boundless reaches of space.
Stepping into the mess hall, Shepard walked up to the kitchen area. Nodding his greeting at Gardner, who was currently juggling between three different batches of reconstituted, scrambled, eggs, he picked up a tray and helped himself to the reconstituted eggs, vat-grown bacon and toast, the only thing on the Normandy that was actually homemade. Then he grabbed some cutlery and a mug, which he filled with coffee, that he then weakened slightly by adding some previously powdered milk.
Striding over to an empty table, Shepard sat down and began eating. The eggs, as always, were bland and whilst the coffee and, to a lesser extent, the bacon more than made up for it Shepard couldn't help but be bemused by the quality of the food.
"They spent four billion credits on bringing me back to life. The Normandy was state of the art before it was upgraded so why is it that a group that has so much disposable income can't afford decent food?" He thought to himself as he wolfed down the bacon and eggs, occasionally taking a sip from the mug of coffee by his side. Emptying the tray, Shepard deposited it in the pile that was forming at the end of the kitchen worktop and refilled his coffee mug.
Turning to return to his seat and catch up on galactic news via his omnitool, he noticed Ethan sitting at another table. He was dressed in his usual outfit, save for the black greatcoat and sleeveless jacket, and was reading something on a datapad, his feet resting on the table. "Might as well talk to him. We've not really had a chance to yet."
Ethan saw him approach and took his boots off the table, much to Gardner's muted relief.
"Need something Shepard?" He asked, looking up at the Commander.
"Just want to talk Ethan." Shepard replied, taking the seat opposite the young man.
Ethan's gaze shifted then, turning inward for but a moment, then his gaze turned back to Shepard. "Sure, why not." He answered, putting down and locking the datapad.
"What's that?" Shepard asked, nodding at the datapad.
"That? Oh, I've just been doing a little digging on you. I figure you're doing the same, right?"
"Yeah." Shepard replied, glancing momentarily at the datapad that detailed his life. "How about you tell me what you know and I'll put in what's missing and answer any questions."
"Alright. Hell, I'll return the favor." Ethan paused then, collecting his thoughts. "You were born in 2154, April 11th, on the SSV Montreal, to Hannah and Lucas Shepard. Your father was Captain of the Valletta before dying in the Attican Traverse when the Valletta was attacked and boarded by a pirate fleet under the command of Batarian 'Pirate Lord' Sorek Bakreg, who was later killed when reinforcements from the 12th Fleet showed up. Your mother currently holds the rank of Captain aboard the SSV Orizaba.
You graduated from Alliance boot camp with flying colours and were sent for N7 training, which you excelled at. During your time in the service your unit was stationed on Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. The rest of your unit was helping to evacuate non-combatants when a Batarian mercenary platoon showed up and began moving towards your position. Ordering your men to keep evac-ing the civilians and wounded you climbed a ruined business tower and held off the platoon. 35 confirmed kills. You were awarded the Medal of Honor for your service and have been lauded throughout the Alliance for your actions. Later you were assigned as XO of the Normandy SR-1 and became the first human Spectre." Ethan paused again. "Then details get a bit more sketchy, a string of unrelated incidents on various planets, you fought alongside a STG team on Virmire, you stole the Normandy when it was docked in the Citadel and later emerged out of nowhere during the Battle of The Citadel. You commanded Admiral Hackett of the 5th Fleet to assist the Destiny Ascension and you also killed rogue Spectre Saren Arterius."
"You seem to know a lot of things that aren't in the public eye." Shepard interjected, suddenly wary as to how it was this man knew so much classified data.
Ethan replied, with an enigmatic smile. "I have my sources."
Though he still felt a bit disconcerted about the young man's knowledge of him, Shepard masked that feeling. "So, any questions?'' he asked genially.
"Just one." Ethan answered, taking a sip of strong, black, coffee. "Why is it that the Alliance declared you K.I.A? Unless this case of death is taking a long time to set in you seem plenty alive to me."
Shepard's mind flew unbidden back to the space above Alchera, the Normandy destroyed, getting Joker into the escape pod, then the explosion. Pain. Then terror as he realised the pressure seals were damaged, the darkness, screaming into the pitiless vacuum.
"Shepard?" Ethan's voice ripped him back into the here and now.
"I was dead." Shepard said, with as much casualness as a man would remark upon the weather. "Cerberus found my remains and rebuilt me."
Ethan paused then, as if looking at Shepard with new eyes.
"What?" Shepard asked, in response to the staring.
Ethan shook himself out of it. "I was looking for the bolt through your neck."
"Very funny." Shepard replied, a slight smile betraying the look of annoyance on his face. "As far as I know it took four billion credits" Ethan whistled at that " and two years to bring me back. Any other questions?"
"Nope." Then Ethan sat back in his chair and linked both hands behind his head. "So, what do you know about dear old me?"
"Well as far as I can tell you were born in 2159, to a certain Duncan and Clara Farrows. At age four you were aboard the MSV Valiant, which went missing on a mission to Secora IX. Twenty years later you show up again in a few references to a pit fighter named Morokaz." Shepard noticed Ethan's genial expression harden slightly and quickly moved on. "Then your actions start getting a bit random. You serve as bodyguard to the Turian General Hararn of the Seventh Legion, saving his life five times that we know of. Then there are numerous reports across both Council Space and the Terminus Systems of a black-hooded assassin. That was you I take it?"
"What can I say?" Ethan replied, spreading his arms in a 'what can you do?' gesture, "People have the annoying habit of running when targeted for assassination."
"Then you end up on Omega, working for Aria T'Loak. And that's as much as we have."
"So what d'ya want to know?"
"Well I guess the first thing is what happened during those twenty years that we don't know about?" Shepard asked, holding up his hand to forestall and answer. "I know you said you were in training but where? Who by?"
"Well that's a few more questions than I asked you but," Ethan paused then, before sighing. "The Valiant crashed after suffering extensive damage in a solar storm. I was the only survivor. I was found by a Hanar who for the next twenty years developed and trained my hand-to-hand, melee, small arms and biotic skills. Then, after twenty years, a gang of scavengers killed him. I killed them and took their ship. For a fair few months I was a pit fighter in the Hegemony. I…got out and began my career as a gun-for-hire."
"I see." Shepard responded, assimilating this new information. "Really? A Hanar?" he asked then, slightly disbelieving the young man.
"Disbelief coming from the guy who was brought back from the dead?"
That got a laugh out of Shepard. "Fair enough."
"So," Ethan asked, looking up from the brown, steaming liquid in his mug. "Did you see anything? You know, after you...had an intimate relationship with the vacuum of space?" That made Shepard smile, oddly.
"Why?" Shepard responded, sitting back in his chair. "You religious?" It was a shoddy deflection from a subject he didn't want to talk about and he knew that Ethan had picked up on it, he could see it in his eyes. Thankfully he didn't push it. In fact he laughed.
"Me? No. Well, not really. When I was in training my master had me train my mind as well as my body. It's kinda hard to believe when you know upward of fifty philosophical arguments against religion. However, if I had to believe in a higher power, I would say that either God or The Gods have gone senile after such a long time and so all they spend their time and total cosmic power doing is messing with our lives." Ethan then drained his coffee mug. "You religious?"
"No," Shepard paused then and his eyes seemed to defocus as he remembered the bygone days before his death. "But I...knew someone who was."
"I take it you mean Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams? Though I'd hardly say 'knowing' aptly describes your relationship." Ethan asked and it was lucky that Shepard hadn't been drinking then, or Ethan would've been sprayed with regurgitated coffee.
"How the hell do you know about that?" He practically demanded, his tone edging ever closer to anger. Not just at Ethan, but also at whoever, be it Joker, Garrus or even Chakwas, had told him.
"So it is true." Ethan said, a triumphant smile spreading across his sun-bronzed face. "Always like to have suspicions confirmed."
Shepard's expression turned from borderline anger to confusion in an instant. "What?"
"When I was doing a little, ahem, 'digging'." Ethan explained, holding up the datapad before setting it down again. "One of the things I took a look at was the Shepard Memorial Service on Elysium. Very touching, though it was plain Councillor Anderson had been given a few extra paragraphs to say than he wanted. Most of your crew from your 'Saren Days' were there: Garrus, the Asari Liara, Miss Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Joker and Chakwas and, of course, Chief Williams. Though everyone, save Miss Zorah, whose face I couldn't read for obvious reasons, did look genuinely upset, Chief Williams looked practically distraught. Of course any lesser observer would've seen her and've seen grief held in check by military training but, as has been said by kings and queens throughout history, I am not a lesser observer. I knew, well 90% certain, that that veneer of well-controlled sadness was a front. She wanted to appear to be holding back the same amount of sadness and despair as her colleagues, whilst in fact she was truly distraught."
"You can really tell all that from looking at someone's expression?" Shepard asked, incredulously.
"Yup. Just like I could tell that you were one very controlled trigger switch from putting me into the nearest wall earlier." He continued across Shepard's hurried denial. "It proved very helpful in my previous lines of work. Searching a crowd for assailants, searching for the weakest or most distracted bodyguard and so on."
At that point Ethan's omnitool flared into life. Quickly, his gaze snapped to it. "Well it was nice talking to you Shepard." He said, getting to his feet. "Hope we can do it again sometime. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go do some training."
As he was just about to turn the corner Shepard called out one last question. "Ethan? One last thing. Why do you-" Ethan finished the question before Shepard could.
"Why do I dress like I just walked off the set of a cheesy 20th Century swashbuckling movie?" Shepard nodded. "Well there's two reasons. One is that these clothes were given to me as a parting gift from my master." It was the truth, but not the whole truth.
"And what's the second reason?"
To that Ethan ran a hand through his golden locks. "I look damn good." Then, as Shepard shook his head, a smile playing across his features, Ethan put his right index and middle fingers to his right temple and threw them forward in an informal salute, before striding from the Mess Hall.
It was at that point that Shepard's own omnitool stirred. Looking down, he saw it was a message from Jacob up in the Armory. Getting up from his chair, he noticed Garrus walking out of the Forward Batteries.
"Hey Garrus, you eaten?" He called out to the Turian, who looked up at Shepard's voice.
"Yeah, I ate already. Thank the spirits I had some MREs around, I don't trust Gardner's cooking enough."
"I can hear you y'know Turian." Gardner stated, from behind the galley counter, sounding slightly hurt.
"Gardner, you burnt chalae." Garrus replied, as if that settled the matter.
"Well it was my first time making it." Gardner explained defensively, standing up again.
"Gardner, chalae is a cold dish."
"Oh." Was Gardner's only reply.
"Anyway," Shepard continued, trying to salvage his conversation with Garrus whilst suppressing a smile. "We just got a new shipment in from The Illusive Man, wanna go check it out?"
"Sure," Garrus replied and so the two comrades walked towards the elevator.
Barely a minute later they both strode into the armory. Upon their entry Jacob looked up from the table that dominated the room. Nodding his greetings, he waved the two of them over. Upon the table lay one of the new sniper rifles The Illusive Man had had shipped to the Normandy, unfolded in combat form, as well as datapads detailing the weapon's schematics.
"The M-29 Incisor." Jacob explained, passing the rifle to Shepard, who in turn passed it to Garrus. "One of the new line of Military and Police Sniper Rifles, made to effectively bring down kinetic barriers better than any rifles before. The rifle fires mass accelerated rounds in three round bursts. The current generation of heat sinks allow for five bursts before a replacement is needed. According to the company who manufactured them, all three rounds will be in the target before the barrel moves a millimetre."
Whilst he was saying this, Garrus was turning the rifle over and over in his hands, like an artisan checking for imperfections in his work or a musician checking their instruments before a gig. He checked the sights were aligned perfectly, felt the total weight of the weapon in his hands, pressed the butt of the rifle into his shoulder to get the feel of it and finally felt the trigger resistance, squeezing it twice.
"Does it pass inspection, Garrus?" Jacob asked, always accepting Garrus' opinion on all the rifles they picked up, seeing as his own experience with them was weak in comparison.
His examination complete, Garrus laid the rifle down on the table, folding it back into its stand-by position, before looking up at Jacob.
"It does and with flying colours." he answered, mandibles flexing slightly in the Turian equivalent of a grin. "I'll use it next time we head out. Put it through its paces."
"Somehow I figured you would Garrus." Shepard said, arms folded. "I mean hell, it even matches your armor colours." Then his head turned to its side and he grinned. "Well, I'd have to put a few bullet holes in it first to make it a perfect match."
"Ha ha Shepard." Garrus replied sarcastically, before turning to Jacob. "Is that everything Jacob?"
"You're not interested in checking the new pistols are you?"
"Spirits no." Garrus replied, invoking the beings he believed in, mostly when he was out of heatsinks and his opponent wasn't.
"Then yeah, we're done." Jacob replied, smiling slightly.
"Then if you'll excuse me." And with that he turned and started walking towards the door to the CIC.
"Calibrations Garrus?" Shepard asked in a needling tone "You know if you do that too often you'll go blind."
Garrus kept walking, waving aside Shepard's jibe as if was a noisy insect. As the door closed behind him Shepard turned back to Jacob.
"Anyway, let's see these pistols."
In response Jacob walked over to a workbench and brought a black and white pistol back to the main table.
"The M-5 Phalanx." He explained, handing the pistol to Shepard. "A highly accurate and lethal sidearm. Effective against armor; weak against shields and biotic barriers. The M5 Phalanx is the product of the Alliance's Offensive Handgun Project that developed a close-in weapon to be used on armored or shielded targets with no loss of stopping power in comparison to the soldier's assault rifle. The Phalanx enjoys a ballistics advantage even over most "hand cannons" and features an integral laser sight, which is highly visible even in bright lighting conditions. Civilian variants are often purchased by colonists on planets that have particularly dangerous big game animals."
Shepard looked up from his inspection of the pistol. "Where'd that come from?" He asked, an eyebrow cocked.
Jacob held up a datapad in answer. "Instruction manual's opening paragraph." That elicited a bark of laughter from Shepard.
Shepard then proceeded, with military precision, to carry out the, where appropriate, exact same checks Garrus had. He felt the weight and strain on his wrists when it was in a firing position; he made sure that the laser sight was aligned perfectly and then he felt the trigger resistance, squeezing the trigger of the unloaded pistol twice.
"Commander?" Jacob asked, waiting for Shepard's reaction.
"Not bad. Have one put into my load-out." Shepard said, putting the Phalanx back on the table and loading up his omni-tool. His fingers tapping the holographic controls, he sent out a message to Jack, Miranda and Miranda, asking if they wanted one added to their own load-outs. "And one each for Miranda and Mordin." Jack had said no and kept her old Carnifex pistol due to "She wanted to and it was none of Shepard's business why."
"Got it."
At that point Joker's voice came over the ship's P.A. "Commander? We're about to hit the relay to the Citadel. Might want to get your armor on, unless the Council's gone informal."
"Got it Joker." Shepard replied to the empty air and then turned to leave.
"Want me to come along Shepard?" Jacob asked after him.
"Take a Cerberus agent to a meeting with the Council?" Shepard asked. "Though it appeals to see the look on Udina's face, it's probably no the best idea." And with that he walked out the door.
2 hours later…
As the elevator doors opened onto the main room of the CIC, Ethan felt a brush of air as he stepped out. Turning slightly his eyes roved over the seemingly empty elevator, searching for…something. He had a strange sensation that something was there; it was the same sensation, the same instinct, which had usually heralded something with sharp teeth and a big appetite leaping out at him from behind a bush. Shaking his head, he turned back to CIC. Walking over to the workstation next to the Galaxy map he leant against the table.
"Hey Kelly," He said as the Yeoman looked up. "How are things?"
"Oh, hello Ethan." Kelly responded, "I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"You got time to talk? Or is Shepard running you ragged?"
She smiled slightly at that, and Ethan couldn't help but notice that she had a dazzling smile, one that lit up her entire face. "I've got some time. I have to stay here though, just in case something comes up."
"Fine with me." Ethan replied, his own mouth curling upwards slightly.
And so they talked, about anything. They talked about her growing up on Terra Nova, along with her mother and sister, Rachel, who had opened a rescue shelter for Dogs there. They talked about how she'd gotten a degree in both human and xeno-psychology.
"Really?" Ethan said in response to this, cocking an eyebrow. "Should I be worried that you're analysing everything I say then?"
"No," Kelly answered, and then she continued in a more playful tone. "Well not now anyway."
"Oh ho," Ethan replied with a laugh "a challenge eh?" he then adopted an upper class British accent "Very well Miss Chambers, I shall endeavour to figure out when you are analysing my every move, twitch and enunciation."
And so their conversation carried on in the same, playful manner. When it came to his turn to answer questions he didn't lie about his past, but nor did he tell her the entire truth. He told he'd been orphaned at four and raised by a Hanar, which had interested her.
"A Hanar?" She asked, genuinely surprised. "What was that like?"
"It was good," Ethan's eyes then took on a far-away look. "He was tough but fair."
"Tough?" Kelly was confused, all she'd ever seen of Hanar were the ultra-polite diplomats and merchants spread out across the Galaxy. "How so?"
"Well, he trained me as well. If I got something wrong that would've cost me in real life he dosed me with the neuro-poison they naturally create." To illustrate, Ethan rolled down part of his shirt collar, showing an indent on the skin of his neck where it met his shoulder.
"Oh." Kelly looked shocked. "Did that hurt?"
Ethan rolled his collar back up. "Like hell. But he never did it maliciously, it was to reinforce the idea that everything has consequences." His face took back its usual boyish look. "And anyway, I supposed it did have positive aspects. I now how a reasonable amount of immunity to most poisons and venoms. The most potent will still put me on my back for weeks, but at least I wont die. Hopefully."
"Hopefully?"
"Strange as it might seem, I'm not in a great hurry to start chugging poisons." He smiled again then. "But at least I don't have to worry as much about how well puffer fish is prepared."
That elicited a small laugh from Kelly. "So what happened to him, the Hanar?"
As quick as a lightning flash, she saw Ethan's eyes grow cold. It was if banked fires smouldered behind those blue eyes, ready to erupt. "He died." Was his only response. "After his death I packed up our home and went to meet the Galaxy."
Almost unconsciously she began to analyse that. "Obviously his guardian's death is a sore subject for him. The way his eyes suddenly changed like that shows he still feels anger over it, so it's highly likely his death wasn't a natural one." She caught herself in time to respond. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine. So, tell me, why did you join Cerberus? You don't exactly seem the most anti-alien person I've seen. In fact you seem quite the opposite."
She was about to tell Ethan what she'd told Shepard when Shepard himself came back onboard the Normandy, Garrus and Mordin trailing in behind him. As he rounded the CIC and headed towards the elevator, not even bothering to drop his weapons off in the armory as Mordin and Garrus were, she side stepped Ethan and moved to talk to him, to fill him in on what had come into his message box, which she'd been keeping one eye on during her conversation with Ethan.
"Commander, you have-" She began but Shepard cut her off before she could finish.
"Not now Kelly!" He barked at her, anger obvious in the set of his shoulders and his gait. The sudden and unprecedented display of anger stunned the young Yeoman, as well as everybody in earshot, including Joker, thanks to having access to the ships audio system, into silence, making her meekly return to her post as the Commander got into the elevator.
Then she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"You alright Kelly?" Ethan asked, his voice warm and reassuring.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Came the shaky, uncertain response. She was genuinely shocked by the anger and venom the Commander had displayed. He'd never shown the slightest indication of such rage before.
"I'll just be a minute." And with that Ethan's hand withdrew and, turning, she saw him stride to the elevator, a determined look on his face.
Shepard threw his armor into its locker, abandoning his military training and years of habit in his anger, and pulled on his casual ship wear.
"Damn it!" He yelled, slamming a fist into the wall in frustration.
He'd gone to see Cap- Councillor Anderson after recruiting Kasumi Goto and getting a few things from the Zakera Ward's markets. When he'd walked in he'd walked into a full council meeting. Not only had the Council vehemently denied Sovereign's true origins as a Reaper, with the ever willing Turian Councillor Valern leading the charge on his claims, but they'd almost declared him, the man who'd saved their sorry asses two years ago, a traitor for working with Cerberus! Luckily Anderson had put paid to that idea. And then, in true Council fashion, they'd offered an empty conciliation by giving him back his Spectre status. And to top it all, after the meeting Anderson, his own friend, had stonewalled him about Ash's location. Of course he'd acted diplomatically, accepting the Council's offer gratefully and shrugging off Anderson's unwillingness to reveal Ash's location, but still, how could the Council be so stupid! How could they flatly deny evidence put in front of them. They'd done it with Saren, until he'd brought them Tali's evidence, and now they were doing it with the Reapers! How could they-
His train of thought was derailed by the sound of his door opening. Looking up he saw Ethan striding in, boots slamming into the metal of the floor.
"What the hell was that Shepard!" He demanded, his voice harsh, accusatory.
"Not now Ethan." He growled back, turning his back to him.
"Yes. Now." Ethan stated, his tone offering no counter. "People on this ship look up to you. You're the man who brought down Saren Arterius. You're the paragon of humanity. How do you think they feel if they see that? Kelly was just doing her job damn it and you snap at her. I don't know what happened today on the Citadel but a great man once told me 'What happens off the ship, stays off the ship. You don't bring any crap into the workplace.'"
The blonde-haired mercenary's words struck a chord within Shepard and, slowly, the red mist rolled back. Finally he looked back at the young man. "You're right." He said with a sigh. "I'll go apologise to Kelly. It was a tough day today."
"What happened?" Ethan asked, leaning his shoulder against the wall that divided his office from the rest of his quarters.
"I had a meeting with the Council." He began, sitting down at the edge of his bed.
"Meeting with politicians? Always a bad idea." Ethan interrupted, a smirk on his face.
"Yeh," Shepard replied, his mood lifting slightly "Anyway, they denied everything I'd ever said about Sovereign and the Reapers, every warning I'd ever given them. They said that Sovereign was a Geth creation and Saren had been the one behind everything, but why would the Geth follow him? He was an organic. Well if you ask them they'd say it was because he was 'a very charismatic individual'." Shepard realised, with grim amusement, that he was using his fingers to create quote marks in the air, as Valern had earlier in the day. Suddenly he surged to his feet, the anger returning momentarily. "How can they be so stupid as to risk the lives of every living being out there?" At that point he turned to face Ethan and had to stop himself from laughing at the shocked expression on the young man's face. "What?"
"The Reapers are real?" Ethan asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm afraid so." Shepard answered.
And so he told Ethan everything about Sovereign, the Reapers, the Protheans and their destruction. When he was done he'd expected to be laughed at, denied or for Ethan to make a cutting joke so he was quite surprised when Ethan simply looked at the floor and chuckled slightly and whispered to himself "Xanthian you old bastard, what else did you know?"
"Ethan?" He asked, which snapped the young man's head back up.
"It's nothing." He said, before straightening up and moving towards the door. "Now come on, you've got an apology to make and I think if I stay up here any longer people will start to talk."
"Very funny." Shepard replied sarcastically, following the young man out. As the elevator travelled back towards the CIC he turned to the black-garbed man and asked him quizzically "Ethan, that 'great man' you talked about before? Who was he?"
As the elevator doors opened Ethan answered, before heading off to the tech lab for some reason. "General Caedus Hararn, Commander of the Turian 7th Legion."
Slowly, Shepard approached his Yeoman. "Kelly?" he said, clearing his throat to get her attention.
"Yes Commander?" She replied, her tone formal, uncomfortably so.
"I'd like to apologise for before. I was angry and…I wasn't thinking."
At that Kelly visibly brightened, back to her old self. "It's okay Commander. Large amounts of stress often lead to such outbursts of anger. May I suggest you find an outlet? If nothing else for your better mental health, which Doctor Chakwas did say would help heal your scars."
Not focussing on the idea Kelly knew what Chakwas had told him, Shepard continued on, trying to restore a normalcy to the CIC. "Anything I should know Kelly?"
At that she turned back to her terminal momentarily. "You have unread messages in your mail box," At that point a light started blinking on the screen "and The Illusive Man wants to talk you in the Briefing Room."
"Thank you Kelly, that'll be all."
And with that he strode from the CIC, which had gotten back its normal atmosphere, through the armory, where he nodded greetings to Jacob who was cleaning up the groundteam's weapons, and into the Briefing Room. Stepping onto the table after it had descended into the floor and opened up the communication array. Slowly a hologram of The Illusive Man appeared, the reclusive billionaire leader of Cerberus was seated and was taking a drag from his ever-present cigarette.
"Shepard," He began "I think we have them. Horizon, a colony in the Terminus Systems just went silent…"