Shepard didn't have to wait long before Councilor Sparatus made his appearance. He arrived at her hospital within the week, his company of guards alerting everyone within a 20 kilometer radius that someone important was in the hospital.
Not that such a thing was unheard of. Shepard herself had a guard posted at her door to protect her against unwanted visitors – though her presence in the hospital had been forgotten over the years.
It wasn't unusual for higher officials to be within Alliance hospitals so the guards themselves weren't anything out of the ordinary. No, what was unusual was the way every single room was swept before the Councilor walked past.
Had life grown so dangerous for members of the Council since the fall of the reapers?
Sparatus found Shepard stubbornly trying to make her legs work. She was succeeding… A little bit. She had been immobile for so long that she needed to retrain her muscles on what they were supposed to do.
Had he not known the woman she was he might have reconsidered his proposal to her, but he knew the woman she would be again and knew he could count on her to come back swinging, as the humans said.
She nodded to him as she forced a few more steps out of herself on the treadmill. It was an interesting setup. She couldn't hold her own weight by her arms, so she was in a hoist of sorts and was simply concentrating on getting her legs to move in the correct manner.
He silently noted that he would hire some of the best physical therapists and physical modification specialists in the galaxy to help her get back in to fighting form.
Her partner was already getting anxious to get a move on with their project.
Sparatus waited patiently for Shepard to continue her workout and then work her way back to her bed before speaking. Her resolve was impressive, as anything with her always was.
Sparatus had spent a lot of time mulling over his initial dislike of the first human spectre and deciding if he still felt the same way. He didn't. It was an easy conclusion to come to after looking back on all that she had done, and all that he had participated in putting her through.
Hindsight was 20/20, as the human councilor had said on many occasions. It was easy to look back and see the way things should have gone.
It was just too bad that the councilor had to wait two years and six months for Shepard to wake up.
Once she was settled, Sparatus waved his security team in to sweep the room for listening devices, and unsurprisingly finding a few. They efficiently removed the bugs they found and set up a subsonic transmitter to distort any that they didn't find.
The Shadow Broker was still active even after all this time, and Sparatus was taking no chances in him finding out the Council's newest venture.
"Shepard, it's good to see you're still as headstrong as ever." He fluttered his mandibles into a grin as he said it, knowing she was well versed in turian expressions.
She snorted before outright laughing and shaking her head, "It's nice to see someone who doesn't treat me like I'm about to break."
He wasn't surprised that she was being treated as such, she had recovered from some grave injuries while she slept, and her body was unaccustomed to the punishment she was no doubt about to unleash upon it.
"Yes, well, I think we both know I've underestimated you one too many times, Shepard." He watched her humor peak a bit as her eyebrow rose. It was as much of an apology as she was going to get out of him, he was about to make up for his past discretions in other ways.
"On to my proposal. With the end of the reaper invasion the council was targeted by various groups for coups attempts. Apparently Udina had inspired a lot of people to try and overthrow the current galactic government. We've persevered, for now. However the other councilors and I have decided to create our own private guard."
He could tell her interest was piqued and continued with a bit more enthusiasm. In truth, this entire undertaking was his brainchild.
"All of the members will be from our most trusted spectres. They will remain anonymous, their identities never revealed for security. If it was known that our top spectres were all in one place, it would simply make them targets for their own assassination attempts on top of ours. There will be two guards per councilor – Councilor Tevos and Valern have already chosen their guards. I want you to be my second. My first is a man I have worked closely with for many years and I know that you two will make a good team. I am willing to personally finance your recovery, including upgrading your implants."
He sat silently while she digested the information. It was a lot to take in. He didn't realize he had been holding his breath until she cleared her throat.
"It sounds like a nice job, and one that I would indeed enjoy… But I have to ask, would I – and my teammate – just be following you around everywhere, or will there be other things to do?" She grimaced at her question. She didn't want to seem ungrateful… But following a councilor around day in and out seemed like it would get rather repetitive and, frankly, boring.
He chuckled and shook his head, "No, of course not. Yes, you will be required to be there for any large events or public appearances, but we will also have tasks for you to complete. Think of it as being the elite of the special forces. Delicate situations that also require a trusted individual will be handed off to the guard. The galaxy is no longer a friendly place in many areas, more than ever we need individuals we can trust to get things done efficiently and discretely."
He hoped he was making this sound something more than being his personal assassin and errand runner. It was true that such tasks would more than likely fall to the guard, but that was not their primary focus.
"Alright. Count me in." She said shortly after he finished talking and truth be told he was surprised at how easily she had agreed.
He was prepared to have to convince her, Shepard had never been one to be a tool of the Council. Apparently two years in a coma could change a person…
Two years and waking up to finding yourself forgotten. Sparatus was not unaware of what her former lover and companion was currently doing. He had actually found himself being more short than necessary with Vakarian because of his choice to move on from the woman.
Sparatus wasn't sure why he cared so much, but he felt it was too soon to give up hope on Shepard – and he had been right.
He nodded when his thoughts shot back to the current situation. "We will need to fake your death. We don't want suspicion that you're alive and working on the Private Guard. Like I said, it would just make you a target as well. You'll be enough of a target for being the ones guarding us, we don't need to add personal vendettas on top of everything. I trust this will not be a problem?"
He eyed her expecting, again, a rebuttal or at the very least some push back. Again she surprised him.
"That's fine. I prefer it that way." He watched the last vestige of humor fade from her eyes as she spoke. He understood her a little better in that moment.
Commander Shepard of the Alliance had died giving everything for the galaxy. She had given everything for her crew, for those she loved. She was aware she had faded from their minds and she was willing to drive the final nail in the coffin.
He understood that she was starting a new life and she was saying a final goodbye to her old life.
Good, he needed her focused on the present.
He nodded and extended his hand to her. She sat up straight as she accepted and returned the gesture.
"I will set everything in motion. I will be transferring you to a remote outpost for the rest of your recovery. You will meet some mercenaries that will attack your ship and, unfortunately, succeed in blowing the ship up. They will then move you to the facility where my medical teams will be waiting."
She nodded and smirked. "I assume I'll have to pick another name." She seemed entirely too amused by the idea, he noted.
"Yes, you don't have to decide immediately. Once you get to the facility all of your records will be under your new name – so just decide by then."
He turned to leave, his entourage already one step ahead of him. "Stay safe Shepard, and I'll see you soon."
As the door closed behind him Shepard made to lay back in her bed.
She wondered if she should feel more worried about essentially flipping off her former crew. True, some of them really didn't deserve it… It's not like a comatose woman would respond to messages… But, still. She had sacrificed so much for them and she felt slighted that they didn't seem to care.
She had been awake for a week and hadn't had a single message or visitor other than Hackett. She felt a pang at the thought of deceiving Hackett, but if he ever found out he'd understand. He had been involved in black ops in his own days, so he knew how it was done.
A more bitter part of her hoped that Garrus Vakarian hurt by her death, that he regretted what he had done and that he hadn't even bothered to come see her.
She hoped that he hurt as much as she did.
It wasn't a kind thing to wish on someone, it wasn't the mature way to handle it.
She didn't give a damn.
She would try to leave the hopes and dreams of Jane Shepard behind her, she only had a few days left as her anyways. For now, she would sulk and remember. She would pay homage to her old self until the day came for her rebirth.
On that day, Jane Shepard and all that she had done would cease to exist.
Sure, she'd remember her past – how could she not? But she would just take the lessons learned and apply them to the future. She wouldn't sacrifice everything for those who would so easily forget her.
Sparatus' faith in her solidified her resolve. It wouldn't be so bad working for him, he had been one of the two people who gave a damn about her. Hell, she was practically an invalid and he was putting his own resources and trust in her and her ability to be everything he needed.
She wouldn't let him down, he was about to be her only friend left in the galaxy.
The rest of the week progressed much the same as before. Physical therapy, bathing, feeding, thinking.
Finally the time came for her transfer. Hackett had called to ask if she was sure just hours before and she had adamantly argued for the transfer. He didn't see any reason to not allow it and signed off on her release.
It's not like she was military anymore anyways.
Sparatus was not there, but members of his private guard were. Some of the same men and women who had been with him when he visited.
The one in charge, a severe looking asari named Neela, simply asked if Shepard was ready before giving the go-ahead for them to begin the charade.
Shepard found herself looking forward to her figurative death. She was excited for what came after. She knew there would be pain, tears and blood… But she didn't care. She wanted it, longed for it. It meant she would be one step closer to being the spectre she knew she could be.
She was ready to move on with her life.
The group moved her from the hospital to the transport with no issues, only a few curious onlookers. Once on and secured, Neela looked at Shepard and brought up her omni-tool.
"What will be your new name, Shepard?"
Shepard had been debating this one and, hell, she could pick what she wanted. "Oya". Neela, to her credit, said nothing and just input the name into her missive to the advance team. Probably not recognizing the strangeness of the name.
Oya, the Yoruban Undergoddess of the Niger River, the guardian of the underworld. Fitting, since she apparently seemed to go there a lot. Besides, she always wanted a weird name.
The trip itself was even more uneventful than her escape from the hospital. They boarded the ship easily enough and left Earth without as much as a delay – almost unheard of in British Columbian weather.
They were quickly through the relay and well on their way to the halfway point – her death place.
Fittingly, Sparatus chose a place near Alchera, her first resting place.
The man was a right comedian. Shepard found herself feeling almost annoyed that he chose the same place, but it was quickly replaced by humor as the advanced warning system started to sound.
They were acting as if it really was a well and true raid, probably for the transmissions that would be sent before the ship went off the grid. It was hard to fake panic unless there was some element of truth.
The crew in on the ploy were calm and collected as they gathered around Shepard and prepared for the final transfer, the rest of the crew manning station and preparing to be boarded.
The mercenaries shot on the vessel for good measure, adding more chaos to the mix. Neela typed away on her omni-tool and deactivated the surveillance for the ship, allowing them to move freely and unseen when the ship's remains were recovered for investigation.
A few more shots to uninhabited portions of the ship triggered the alarms to abandon ship. Shepard knew that there were ships more than likely within retrieval range to pick up the crew that ejected in a timely manner – not too timely, however.
The wheeled her through the ship to the shuttle bay, waiting for the boarding party.
More shots rang through the air as the hull was pierced again, the last pods shooting from the ship and the "All clear" order from their pilot.
The pilot joined them shortly, verifying that no crew were injured and that all transmitters were ready off ship. The mercenaries arrived shortly after and they boarded the transport just as the final signal was given to end the ship.
Neela and her group were the only ones taken, having stayed to protect Shepard. Shepard's body, however, would be unrecoverable as the mercenaries were hired to end her violently.
They witnessed her shot, burned and then remains ejected in to space. The Council would have to negotiate for their recovery, as they were unharmed because they weren't the target.
Shepard would be dead when the ship exploded, violently, and in front of the escape-pod bound crew. Her transport bed ejected in to space with healthy blood splatter from carefully collected vials prior to their departure.
She was moved to a wheel chair and they started the final leg of their journey.
By the time they arrived at the private medical facility, which was more like a floating research station, Shepard was exhausted.
It had been the most action she had seen in years, and it was wearing on her.
The doctors welcomed "Oya" and proceeded to move her into her private room.
Now the real fun and games could begin.