A/N: Yeah I abandoned the smut thing when I started writing this however long ago it was, but I ended up with writers block for the part leading up to and after Shepard becoming a Spectre. Mainly because I lost my notes for this story (the ones detailing the finer details that I need to fill in the blanks between the major things I want to have happen) and I couldn't remember if I was going to make it so the council dilly dallied, allowing for a certain idea I had, or if I was going another route. I don't want to give anything away so sorry for the vagueness.
And last but not least, I am terribly sorry about how long it's taken me to update this story. Those of you who have been waiting for this and are aware of the other stories I've posted, were probably tearing your hair out. My creative process annoys the hell out of me and it probably doesn't help that I have ADHD but working on other stuff while I was stuck helped me eventually loop back around to revisiting this. Basically my creative flow is going in this direction again.
Imagine if I was writing original material and was published with a deadline. I'd be fucked. So I'm very sorry that you had to wait. For any of you still around for this anyway.
Hope you enjoy! Please leave a review on your thoughts, even if it is to harass me about how long it's taken me to update this story.
I stood naked before the Asari woman, who had discarded that piece of fabric completely. Sha'ira was slender, with B-Cup breasts, and her small frame looked so elegant and fragile. I never really had a major preference when it came to body type, I'm not blind and I can appreciate her physical beauty, but it was more about how she held herself, the attitude, the character. And here eyes.
I could see the lust, desire, and passion, in those eyes.
"It appears I made an impression." We walk closer to each other, closing the distance, but slowly. Everything I do is almost high octane, adrenaline filled, like I'm a speed demon, but not this. I always take my time with this. She smiles at my choice of words.
"Oh, I did receive such a lovely letter from Septimus. Not only did he say sweet things to me, but he praised you for being a real man of honour, and pride. Showing him how he should act as a general, despite only being a civilian. Then the Elcor diplomat Xeltan came to me to apologize for his actions. Claiming that you gave him hope that forgiveness was possible, given Septimus was the one responsible for making him feel insecure. Another thing you helped him feel relief in. I may have heard rumours of a protector down in the wards. So, yes Cole..." She closes the distance now, her hands on my chest, rubbing up and down, soothing my soul and making my blood rush through me as she slid them up my neck and clasped the back of my head, catching my ears with her thumbs and index finger. "...you have made an unforgettable impression on me."
It was my turn to smile.
Some Time Later
I can say without a doubt, that sex with an Asari with centuries of experience is a fantastic time. Doesn't hurt that it was my first time in nearly 200 years either.
Everything was great about it. Only thing that I was missing though was the connection. Don't get me wrong, I've had casual sex before, but this felt a little more transactional then that. No, I didn't pay her, but I did her a favour and she gave me sex and a trinket in return.
After we finished I was ready to leave. I didn't want to stay and cuddle or even go to sleep. My mind was restless, and I needed to think. So, I got up and started getting dressed.
"Did you want anything to drink or eat before you leave?" Sha'ira herself seemed to be alright with the arrangement, though she kept looking at me with a discerning look as she grabbed herself a beverage.
"No thank you." I was nearly fully dressed now, thinking about something she had said to me earlier. "You stated you provide a service, and what that service was depended on what I needed. I really enjoyed the sex, but..." I stopped, trying to think of the words.
"...It wasn't what you needed. I can tell you are still restless. What is bothering you?" I sighed, the stress and built up anxiety that I had been holding onto had been mostly relieved during our session, but now it was crawling its way back into me.
"I think I'm doomed." I say, dejected. I wasn't expecting Sha'ira to laugh, but she did.
"All life is doomed to end one day. Though I imagine you mean something else." I nod. She comes over to me, grabbing my hand, and bringing me back to the couch. I have my pants, shoes, and shirt on.
Sitting me on the couch she puts her glass on the table and starts to remove my shirt. I give her a questioning look, but comply. When the fabric is fully removed she places it on the arm of the couch and turns her still naked body back towards me.
"Lay down on your stomach." I do as she says. If I'm going to get a massage I won't turn it down.
"You're right. I do mean something else. How much do you know about my... abilities." I feel her climb onto my back, straddling me, and her hands begin to knead the muscles in my back. Despite her small frame her hands are capable of applying pressure to all the right places. She alternates between pressure and light caressing, it's very soothing.
"You were referred to as the 'Electric-Man' by my human associate." I groaned.
"Of course I was."
"That name does sound... sound..."
"...Uninspiring? Unoriginal? Totally and utterly lame?" She giggles at my clear dislike for the moniker that has somehow followed me through the ages.
"Any of those would work." I raise my hand from under me and produce an electrical current around it and my arm. She pauses her massage and becomes very still.
"I'm in complete control. No need to worry." I assure her, and she takes a moment to relax, but begins massaging me again.
"I don't imagine I can touch your arm in that state?" She seems more calm then I expected. I briefly remember the Asari I fought and remember being told the Asari are all biotics by nature.
"No, and I take it you are taking this so well only because you come from a race of biotics." She is working on my shoulders now, so I let the current dissipate and drop my arm, relaxing again.
"I would say so. Not that I wasn't a little surprised by your display. Nobody like you exists in the galaxy. As far as I know anyway." She continues her work on my muscles, staying silent for a moment before speaking again. "This is not what is causing you to be so tense."
I think for a moment, about just what exactly it was. I have images and conversations flash through my head. One of them, always haunting me.
"They called me The Demon of Empire City, for something I had no control over. Long story short, there was an old man that was responsible for giving me my powers. He killed thousands to do it. Killed people close to me. People I loved. That he..." I hesitate, not willing to reveal everything to her. The only other person I ever told about Kessler's real identity, and where he's from, was Zeke.
"... all to make me strong. Ruthless. Preparing me for a threat that would destroy the world. At first I just wanted to leave the city. Afterwards I wanted to kill him, and after that... well, I was hoping everything would go back to normal... but this is my new normal." I raised my hand again and created a sparking ball, letting it sit in my palm.
"When I beat him, and was about to deliver the final blow, he showed me my future. All I saw was destruction and death. Just as I was about to leave it all behind me, he goes and shows me the end of everything. I did everything. I mean everything to change what was coming. But..." I stop, unable to find the words.
"Take your time. You didn't fail, clearly. So something is bothering you about-"
"I did fail. The Beast came. He destroyed everything along the east coast of the United States, until he caught up with me. I used... we had a method of killing it, but it resulted in the death of everyone like me on Earth."
"Are you sure?"
"Have you ever heard the word 'Conduit' before I arrived on the Citadel?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Exactly. I should have died with them."
"Survivors guilt is-" I interrupt her as I disperse the ball and move to roll over and look her in the eyes.
"You don't understand. This isn't just survivors guilt. This didn't happen on Eden Prime. It happened on Earth, a long time ago. The threat to the world was a conduit, and the way I saved humanity was sacrificing all of the conduits alive. My only other choice was to join The Beast, and use it's powers to kill every human on Earth, and in so doing, saving the Conduits. I made my choice. I should have died, Sha'ira. Part of me wanted to, so I wouldn't have to live with the only option I had. I committed... God it was nearly two hundred years ago, but for me... it was yesterday that I committed genocide." Tears flow down my cheeks. Her face softens, and I can not tell the look she is giving me through my blurred vision. My body does not rack with sobs, nor do I whimper, but tears fall all the same.
The guilt of all those that died for my sake, from the moment the Ray Sphere went off till now, weighs heavy. She has gotten me somewhat relaxed, and soothed, but I am still holding onto it. She wipes the tears from my face. I move to sit up, and she thankfully adjusts to allow me to do so.
"You wanted rest." I grab my shirt from the couch and slip it on as I move to my jacket and put that on as well.
"There's a saying on Earth. 'Ain't no rest for the wicked'." I raise my hand, forming the ball in my palm again. "I won't know rest, ever. The gift of these powers will be my burden until the day I die for good." The consort stands up and moves from the couch to directly in front of me.
"Cole, this burden will kill you if you try to bear it alone." I crush the ball of electricity in my hands as it's current shoots up my arm before disappearing. I give her a hard look.
"Kind of the point. I'll see it through regardless, and if I have to go down in the process, then I may as well go blaze of glory. Like I always say; Burn half as long, and twice as bright." I turn away from Sha'ira as I lift my bag, making sure everything was secure, and heading for the door.
"The words of a foolish man rushing to his death. Wasting his life, and potential." I hear Sha'ira move back to the couch and pick up her drink. "I would look closely at the people the Normandy has attracted on this mission against the Turian Spectre, Saren. You may find a kindred spirit that can help you with your burden Cole. One that, like you, is labelled a butcher by some, and a hero by others. I doubt her stories are as simple as either of those two monikers seem to convey."
I don't respond, both parties present knowing full well that nothing is ever so simple. The door opens and I only manage to stare at the floor. I was labelled a terrorist right at the start, before I knew anything at all. The moniker of Demon was given to me immediately after being considered a hero by those people I helped feed. Mistakes I made in my grief being the cause. Deserved or not, it's history, and nothing can change that now. Not even a time travelling failure.
"Thanks for the advice Sha'ira. Have a good night."
"Good night Cole."
With that over, I step out to the hall, turn to the nearest window, spend a few minutes figuring out how to open it, and then climb to the roof.
The Consorts place of business wasn't the tallest structure in the Citadel, bragging rights belonging to the Citadel Tower, but it was high enough that I had a decent view of the Presidium, lit by the lights of the buildings and, well not street lights, but something similar. Not sure what those are, they just float their. They're round and metallic and give off a slightly pale blue light.
The Citadel seemed to remain busy even at this hour, and I am reminded of Empire City. It was pretty similar to New York in terms of how alive the city was at almost all hours of the night. Empire City was supposed to be the city of tomorrow, but tomorrow is here, and it's gone. No one bothering to rebuild it.
I sigh. Something I've been doing a lot recently. It's just about the only thing I can afford to do without breaking down completely. Something I was on the verge of doing with Sha'ira. Really, the past 30 hours may seem pretty standard in terms of galactic life now, but for me, a guy from the 21st century, I've taken in a lot without properly processing. The only thing I can think to do is run and climb. I did some of my best thinking while using the city as a jungle gym.
Maybe my new friendship with Garrus will help me avoid trouble with C-Sec. Should probably do more studying on galactic law and the ethics of urban exploration in the greater galactic civilization.
xxx
This nonsense with Saren is taking too long. The Council shouldn't be pushing our next meeting to prove his crimes to three weeks from now. To Hell with their bureaucracy, the hunt for Saren should have started yesterday. Instead, I'm standing here in a training facility for the Systems Alliance with Captain Anderson, waiting on MacGrath.
I don't like the implications of this.
"Captain, respectfully; what are we doing here?" I had gotten a light work out in and started my cardio training by the time Anderson called me.
"I told you Shepard, I will brief you when MacGrath arrives." I grunt in annoyance. The action always brought up a brief memory of my mother's read curls bouncing in the sun as she laughed and made noises that the posh and rich would scoff at.
"We better be putting him in custody." Anderson simply turns his head towards me, the Alliance logo emblazoned on the wall behind him. Scattered behind him is the weight training area, where as behind me is where the sparring equipment is located.
"Shepard, what is your problem with MacGrath?" I square myself towards my superior, and sort out my thoughts on the... conduit, that has come from nearly two hundred years of Earth's history.
"He has no respect for authority. Street punk that likes causing a ruckus and bailing when the heat starts bearing down on him. Probably defaults to hating cops, and likely feels similarly about all service men and women. Viewing them as obstacles to 'Freedom' and 'Liberty'. When really he's looking to live lawlessly and without consequence for his actions. He's cocky, and he hasn't earned it. His story doesn't add up. Oh and let's not forget he manifested himself through a Prothean Beacon while I was connected to it." I nearly spit that last part. The feeling of his thoughts invading my mind. His fear, remorse, rage, and worst of all, his hunger. It freaked me out. He wanted to consume us. Our energy. Completely.
"I disagree with your assessment of the man, Commander." Anderson turns to his omni-tool and fiddles with it for a second, seemingly pulling up some information that I'm clearly not privy to.
"According to reports and rumours around the Citadel, they've had a vigilante active for the last two days, coinciding with our arrival from Eden Prime. A few examples include stopping armed robberies, assaults, bounty hunters, and not to mention his clear involvement in assisting C-Sec Officer, Garrus Vakarian, in his investigation into Saren. Which lead to saving Dr. Chloe Michel. Not to mention arriving in time to provide aid in protecting Tali'Zorah." Anderson's voice is steady, and his confident look affirms that he believes what he's saying. That he has no doubt.
"I don't believe this. You actually think he's some saviour?" The venom in my voice is viscous.
"Very few people in the top brass know of Cole MacGrath's nature and his origin. They've been digging through old classified files. Homeland Security. DARPA. What they are finding is slim on information, a lot of redacted documents, but what they are able to dig up... it doesn't look good. Save for MacGrath. Reports on him indicate mostly an idea of how his powers work, and how he seemed to try and hold things together in Empire City. There also appears to be old forums and old internet sites that had countless unconfirmed claims to have witnessed his deeds. Claims of both heroism and villainy. Not to mention some had footage of his actions while the Quarantine was up. Whatever was relevant was either collected and stored behind a wall security credentials that I don't have, or have been simply wiped. Even less info is available about John White, and what happened in New Marais."
"I'm still neither convinced of, nor impressed by him, Captain. I don't like it. He's a risk. He might be of some use, but what are we risking by involving him? What risk does he pose being allowed to run around the Citadel, let alone the galaxy, sticking his nose into business he has no right being apart of?" At this Anderson has the audacity to chuckle at me. I glare at him, something I'd never do in front of others out of respect for his rank, but our personal relationship allows for me to get away with it in private.
"You are, and always have been, a critical judge of character Shepard. But I know you. Given time, and a little understanding, I'm sure he'll prove himself to you." Anderson is a bit of a dreamer, always has been. It's never been enough to make him completely lose grip of reality, but his hopes and dreams sometimes make me think
"I'm not here to play into fairy-tales and fantasies. This is the real world. And you know as well as I do. In the real world-"
"People die." His low, gravelly voice cuts through the training room, and our conversation, drawing my attention to him. "You know, I was wondering if I'd sound off using old phrases that were of that nature, given there are multiple worlds and we exist in an intergalactic community now. Good to know it's still a modern idiom."
He's slowly walking towards us, with a grim look on his face, despite his attempt at being aloof while addressing modern turns of phrase. He's dressed in a simple grey t-shirt, with sweat pants and running shoes. A one-strap backpack is wrapped around him.
"No." I refuse to do this.
"You don't even know what I'm asking." MacGrath begins.
"Commander." Anderson's tone urges me to reconsider, but I ignore it in favour of logic, and my mental health.
"He's a supercharged loose cannon. His fight with the Asari in the alley proves-"
"That I'm no longer the strongest one around." His interruption takes me off guard.
"Wow, he's capable of humility." My sarcasm seems to cause his grim face to fall into an annoyed frown.
"I was one of the most powerful Conduits on Earth back in 2012. I was essentially a one-man army, capable of taking on hordes of thugs, mercenaries, and monsters, with weaker conduits peppered among the goons that were thrown at me, and was able to take them all down alone. Prime Conduits, strong ones, took almost all my focus to fight. Alden. Sasha. Kessler. Bertrand. John. Though the levels of power varied, mostly due to how different they all were, anybody with powers today, are basically all biotic. Most of them are trained for combat, or at least I'm willing to bet they are, and
"I'm not training him. If you want to that's your business." I'm already sick of this conversation.
"He requested you specifically."
"Why? We don't even like each other." MacGrath sighs and begins heading for a bench, and taking a seat.
"That much has become clear. To be perfectly honest, I don't like you're attitude, but I can understand it. You're hostility, and caution. I'm not your enemy Shepard. I'm not looking to hurt people." I don't know his game, but I'm not interested in listening. I can't shake that awful feeling I had when we were... bonded.
"It's going to take a lot more than that to gain my trust."
"That's a start, at least." Anderson sighs in relief. I hadn't realized he was holding his breath. He really wants this to work. Great. Now I feel guilty about resisting a cooperative partnership with MacGrath. Not for his sake, but Anderson's. He's done a lot for me over the years.
"Look, you won't ever come to trust me if you don't know my story, and I'll never truly understand you until I know yours. The difference is that despite your N7 status, some of what you've done in service of the Alliance is public knowledge. I'm not going to go digging into your records though, because that kind of defeats the purpose of talking to each other." Huh. Starting to talk some sense. I give it a minute to mull over. His ability to fight an Asari commando untrained was impressive, if not brash and stupid. Probably the only thing saving him was a likely greater physical capabilities, considering their stalemate when throwing powers around like water balloons. As for everything Anderson has mentioned about what little is available about his history in records, I can potentially find out more. Though I should probably take most of what he talks about with a grain of salt.
"I'm not big on opening up, so you can do all the talking for now." I walk over the floor a few feet in front of MacGrath, and begin to warm up my muscles and stretch.
"Okay... well... I dropped out of college to piss off my parents. Well it was because a professor treated a student like a piece of shit for making a simple mistake, but it was also because my parents were exactly like that asshole. Always so proud of themselves, of my brother, but so ashamed of me. They were high achieving snobs. Pretentious, to an extent... In all honesty, they weren't as bad as I made them out to be. I mean yeah, they were dickheads, but... so was I. Anyway, I wasn't somebody that you'd ever notice. Just a bike courier delivering packages to folks he'd never know. And then one day... a package found me." MacGrath's voice gets a bit lower, and his demeanour changes drastically from what appears to be a normal guy whining about his parents being mean because he was a failure, to a haunted look.
"It took us all by surprise. Initial blast ripped through a six block radius. Vaporizing everyone in it's path. Everyone... except me..." MacGrath takes a minute to steady himself, clearly getting emotional about the whole deal, before continuing. "While slipping into unconsciousness I could somehow... I don't know... hear the screams of the dying. Crushed by falling buildings or being burned alive in the fires. Trish lost her sister, almost lost me."
At the mention of Trish I have images spring up to the forefront of my mind. I can see him open the package, the blast go off, waking up, and running for his life towards a bridge. Then waking up two weeks later in the hospital with powers. It was all so disorienting, I wasn't sure what to make of it. My only guess is that it's the result of our previous bond through the Beacon on Eden prime.
"Zeke, my best friend, was always there. Somehow sure that I would wake up. For two weeks I was in there, while outside the city fell apart. A plague struck. Followed by rioting, theft, rapes, civilization was committing suicide. In a bullshit attempt to contain the biological threat, the federal government locked down all access in and out of the city. Now we're stuck the cage with the psychos. Cops were all but gone off the streets. Either dead or too chicken shit to stand against the gangs that control shit now. Outside things were bad... but inside... inside me, something was beginning. Scary as hell at first. You gotta understand, there was no one to talk to. No experts to consult. But with time I'm learning to control it. Master it. I just hope it's not too late." His odd transition between past and present tense has me wondering if he's reliving that moment in his head. As if he's there right now.
PTSD is common among veterans. Among victims of trauma. If he survived a blast that annihilated thousands of people... I think I can understand that. Being a survivor. The guilt of it. The sadness... the rage.
The buildings are on fire and the grass is coated in red. Ships are over head, and I watch as my family neighbours are-
"Maybe you should write a book about it." Of course, being vulnerable isn't in my wheel house. Reliving this memory is bad enough in my sleep. I don't need to be wasting my day on it.
MacGrath seems to be pulled from his memory, and brought back to the present due to my remark. Where I was expecting him to cuss me out and storm off, he actually chuckles with a smirk, and flips me off.
"Fuck you, Shepard."
"Gotta make money somehow." I stand up, finished with my stretches. "Stretch. We're going to start with combat training." MacGrath stands from the bench, and takes off his backpack. Before he even puts it down, I channel my power and throw him across the room. I can hear Anderson sigh, and have that sigh turn into a chuckle behind me.
I even start to laugh myself, but it's cut short by a four plate bar being casually tossed across the room at my head. I use my powers to stop the improvised projectile, and toss it to the side. Unfortunately, my focus on protecting myself has given the Conduit trainee the ability to stay out of my immediate line of sight, and I am now trying to frantically find him.
"I can sense you, but where the hell are-"
"Nobody ever looks up." But I do when he speaks and I see what is coming down on my head.
A human lightning bolt.
