While my Guitar Gently Weeps - Peter Frampton
"Shepard. Need me for something?"
"Do you have a minute?"
"Of course, just finishing up some calibrations. What can I do for you?"
When Garrus turned to face Shepard, she marveled at his height. She was tall herself - just shy of six feet - but she estimated the turian to be over seven feet and as a result he towered over her. She could understand how someone who didn't know his kind heart could find him intimidating between his height and scarred visage. "We're landing on the Citadel in a few hours and I'd like you there with me."
He expressed skepticism. "Didn't think you'd need me to intimidate the Council, you seem to do pretty well yourself."
"I'm hoping if they see the loyalty of my old team members they'll empathize with my cause. Your rugged and manly presence won't hurt, either."
"Damn, Shepard, you sure know how to make a turian blush. I'd be honoured to be by your side, as always."
"Good, we're expected to dock at around 1300 hours. We'll be meeting with Anderson at 1330 hours, and we're presenting to the council at 1430. Mordin will be traveling with us; I'm hoping they'll give us the chance to present his evidence."
"I'll make sure to choose my toughest-looking armour for the occasion."
"Wish me luck, Garrus. You know how damn stubborn the Council can be."
Jacob began jogging on the treadmill, a news vid playing before him. He wasn't surprised to find that neither Freedom's Progress nor any of the other missing colonists were being acknowledged.
All things considered, he was happy with his time served on the Normandy thus far. Shepard was fair with the crew, always making sure everyone had ground time and anything else they may need. He wasn't happy that the Illusive Man distrusted her so greatly that there were cameras and surveillance covering every inch of the ship, but he had to accept it. She was his commander, but the Illusive Man was his boss.
At that moment the commander herself walked into the cargo bay, dressed in sweat proof civvies.
"Taylor." She nodded at him. "Glad I found you here. Mind if I use the stationary bike?"
"Not at all!" he said with a grin. He couldn't deny that Shepard's body was like a work of art, and he had great amounts of respect for how hard she exercised. "How are things?"
"Strange, honestly. I'm going to cut to the chase, Taylor, because I know you're a straightforward person. You remember the strange regeneration I experienced at Freedom's Progress?"
"How could I forget?"
"Well, I finally got some answers from your lovely boss. My implants are creating cells that repair any other cells which are damaged, infected, or aging. In lay man's terms, I can't die." She paused. "Strangely enough, it doesn't feel any more real each time I say it."
Taylor couldn't help but laugh. Of course the immortal Shepard was actually immortal, and of course Cerberus would be the ones to do it. It would all be too real otherwise. His thoughts turned to Miranda's anticipated frustration at The Illusive Man for keeping such a large portion of her own project from her, and his laughter continued. He also immediately found the twisted humour in the fact that they had chosen to use the technology in the implants so that they couldn't be replicated, and began laughing even harder. As soon as he started to laugh he couldn't stop, and laughter overtook him so much that he had to stop running so he could bend over and hold onto his sides.
"You know, Jacob, you have to be the first one reacting this way."
Gasping for breath, he spit out as much as he could. "It's just... it's you... and... Cerberus... and... implants..." Shepard began to crack up too, and before they could help it the two of them were feeding off of each other, the laughter continuous.
"You're right, Jacob," Shepard said as she wiped tears from her eyes. "This is absolutely ridiculous. Thank you for helping me see that side of this."
"Any time, Shepard. I'm always here if you need someone to talk to." He pulled off his shirt and wiped his face down with it to rid himself of the sweat and tears of laughter. "See you around."
Fending off residual giggles, Shepard started pedaling again. In spite of everything, she couldn't help but feel blissfully lighthearted.
"Damn, Shepard. This is a hell of a lot to take in."
Garrus and Mordin stood near the door of Anderson's office, observing Shepard explaining her resurrection, the Collectors, and the news of her being indestructible to the Captain who had become one of the most important figures in her lifetime.
Wanting to be as respectful as possible, Garrus hung back, trying and failing not to listen in on their conversation. Before him were two highly compelling people, and if they couldn't convince the Council of the Collector presence, no one could.
The Citadel had changed a great deal since his last sojourn here. The corruption ran deep. Those who profited were exploiting the weak, preying on the fear that had developed from Saren's attack. C-Sec was flourishing, closing off many areas of the Citadel so that even Shepard's access was limited. He remained quiet about how ruffled the experience left him; he wanted to show Shepard that the C-Sec days were long behind him, although he had the underlying desire to make a difference at the place that was falling from greatness.
"Do I tell the Council about the extent of Cerberus's work?"
"I think so. They need to know what they're capable of, and they need to be able to trust you."
Shepard leaned away from the railing and checked her omni-tool for the time. "My meeting is in fifteen. I'd rather be early than late. Will you be joining me to watch?"
"Wouldn't miss it, Shepard."
"Commander Shepard, do you really think that we're going to believe that you were truly dead for two years, and then Cerberus, a rogue human organization, brought you back from the dead to fight an enemy whom we have no solid scientific evidence of their existence? To add to the madness, you're telling us that Cerberus has developed a completely regenerative cell, with which we have no basis on where the technology came from? Do you see how preposterous this sounds?"
Shepard curled her lip at Valern's snide remarks. "I've shown you video evidence of the Collectors, and I can present Mordin's scientific evidence to you -"
"-All of which could be easily fabricated!" Tavos sighed.
Sparatus had been quiet for the majority of the presentation, and when he quietly spoke up doubt riddled his words. "We're all happy to see our galactic hero back in action, Shepard, but we won't provide assistance with the Collectors until we see more concrete evidence from an organization that has a better reputation than Cerberus. I vote to have your Spectre status reinstated for the good of the galaxy, however, none of your claims today will be supported."
Garrus heard Shepard curse under her breath as Tavos, Valern, and Udina supported the motion. The meeting had not gone as planned.
Shepard turned from the Council and briskly walked out of the chambers, her expression one of deep frustration. "Let's go to Dark Star and get a couple fucking drinks in us. I'm done with politicians."
Mordin and Garrus exchanged glances of surprise before Garrus shrugged and they followed their Commander, not wanting to incur her wrath.
Crowds parted as Shepard walked through them with a sense of purpose so strong it induced fear in by passers. She was walking so quickly Mordin's short stride fell behind and he had to jog to keep up.
As soon as they reached the club Shepard sat brusquely at the bar, tapping twice to attract the attention of the bartender and taking a swig of a blue liquid he placed in front of her. Mordin and Garrus sat on either side of her and ordered drinks of their own; Garrus, a large amber drink, and Mordin, a small flute filled with a purple liquid. The turian and salarian remained quiet as Shepard fumed.
"I'm so sick of politicians! They didn't listen to me with Saren, and what happened? The Citadel was attacked and I had to risk the lives of many loyal Alliance personnel to save their sorry asses. What do I get as repayment? Sent on a sorry excuse for a shakedown mission to search for geth so they could use it as a cover story to avoid the real threat, the Reapers. All they care about is staying in their Council positions, and they know that if they reveal the Reaper threat we'll need a stronger, more unified rule. I thought that recommending Udina would be a step in the right direction, but clearly I was mistaken." She tapped on the bar again for another drink. "He's worse than the other three! All he's concerned about is doing what they say to secure his position. We need a galactic senate. Not a galaxy run by three blind mice. I say three, because Udina is just a yes man who agrees to whatever the hell the other three want."
Her brow furrowing and her eyes changing from frustration to sorrow, she ordered another drink.
"The people need to know the truth. The Council believes that they're keeping them safe by lying to them, but the truth will prepare them for what is coming and save them all."
Garrus knew he wouldn't want to be in her shoes at that moment. Here was a woman who had accomplished incredible feats, and yet was learning the true definition of being held back by red tape. She could have accomplished so much more - fuck, she could have saved the galaxy by now - if her superiors would have just listened to her.
Her omni-tool beeped, indicating a message. No rest for those like Shepard. Sipping at his drink, he watched as she read the message, her expression changing again from one of sorrow to one of confusion with a small bit of hope. His visor read a brief spike in her heart rate before it returned to normal.
She input a few commands into her omni-tool before she said, "48 hour shore leave for the whole crew.
"Garrus, meet me in the main battery tomorrow at 1800 hours. Wear the finest non-armour that you own." And with that, she quickly paid the tab, stood up, and left the club.