#her taking for granted shepard always being there and being able to save the day ENRAGES me

[hellt00th]

im still mad about Liara LMFAO

[mass-effect-galaxy]

Joan’s Song 5: The Spectre

“Commander Shepard, It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel. 

Spectres are not trained but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file. 

Spectres are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will.

Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold.

You are the first human Spectre, Commander. This is a great accomplishment for you and your entire species.”

“I am honored, Councilors”, Shepard said. ‘About time’, she thought

The ceremony felt somewhat make-shift and was a bit of a disappointment to Shepard. Of course, with Saren the Council had a rouge spectre running around the Traverse, attacking human settlements at will. Even worse, the Council had known of it, did not warn the Alliance, and had failed miserably in solving the problem by sending Nihlus after Saren. The least the Council could do now was giving a human spectre status to hunt down Saren.   

One advantage of being a spectre was free housing on the Citadel. Shepard had expected a room in the C-Sec barracks. She wasn’t prepared for a two-story apartment in the Tiberius Towers. It was furnished tailored for a human; however, Shepard didn’t like the style: several separate living areas with leather couches, two bars, an office with a poker-table and a fireplace, a completely impractical open kitchen (she wouldn’t be cooking much here, but still). The dining area had a giant table, but someone had removed the chairs. There was not a single spot she would label as “cozy”. This was the home of a middle-aged male human single. A lot of work to do. At least she would be able to do something herself about the disturbing giant paintings on both floors. 

Technically, Shepard’s assignment to the Normandy was concluded with her being appointed a spectre. In Council Space, she would now be outranking Captain Anderson anyways. Someone already had brought over Shepard’s things from the Normandy. Her bags and boxes were piled next to the entrance; as were Kaidan’s and Ashley’s. Already from the cap that brought them here, Shepard had called Admiral Hackett and asked for both being placed under her command, her personal “spectre team”. By chance, the apartment had three bedrooms and would now be their home and headquarters.

There was an additional set of packages on one of the couches. “Christmas!”, Ashley shouted and sat down unpacking the first one. Shepard liked her that way: Ashley had dropped a lot of the diffidence she had shown on Eden Prime in Shepard’s presence. It had not fitted her. That package revealed a red overall with dark boxes on the shoulders, legs, and the back. An armor. It looked ridiculously. Shepard touched one of the boxes and the hard-cups extracted. Now it was lacquered-black with a red under-armor. “I think, I stick to Alliance colors”, Shepard said. “You bet, Commander”, replied Kaidan unpacking another package. It held a folded rifle. Shepard took it and pushed the button to unfold the weapon. It was a black assault rifle with the red spectre-wings and the designation “HMWA VII” stamped into its butt. The other parcels contained the respective sniper rifle, a shotgun, and a pistol. “Just one set. I’ll requisition yours as soon as possible.”, Shepard promised. 

Kaidan went out for the evening, a date with some doctor from the Citadel.  “Or maybe, he has some itching he doesn’t wanna talk about and needs an excuse to see the doctor?”, Ashley joked. She and Shepard were at the bar in the room with the big screen on the wall. Shepard was checking the little refrigerator beneath the bar. “You dig up anything useful down there, Ma’am?”, Ashley asked. “Scotch, Tizza, and ice. Sounds like ‘Acrturus Shots’ to me.”, Shepard replied. “Shoot, Skipper.”

A few shots later, Ashley said, “Proper way to celebrate Armistice Day, isn't it?” Shepard had no idea what Ashley was talking about. “Armistice Day?”. “Yeah, First Contact War, you remember. We always celebrate it in our family.” Ashley sounded sad. “Really? I know, my father fought there, in a unit with Hackett and Anderson. What about your family;  lost anyone to the birds?” “Shepard, I am Ashley Williams.” Shepard shrugged, confused. “General Thomas Williams granddaughter.” “Shanxi-Williams?” Shepard blurted that out and immediately regretted it. “Sorry, that was unkind.” “It’s okay, Shepard. I am the offspring of a traitor.” “Ashley, listen”, Shepard said, “your grandfather's tactics were sound, and by surrendering in time, he saved countless lives. He was no traitor, the admirals just needed someone to shift the blame to.” Ashley blushed, “that’s kind of you. He would have liked that. After all, you are a hero: Akuze, Elysium, Torfan.” 

An awkward moment of silence followed. Then, Shepard said, “I am not a hero, I am a monster.” Ashley resisted the impulse to answer. This sounded serious. “On Torfan, I should have surrendered. The Alliance certainly would had paid any ransom for us. Maybe, the animals had executed me, but the others had lived.” Shepard suddenly realized that she personally was responsible for Jan’s death - not the batarians, not Major Kyle, not Admiral Hackett. ‘It was me!’ “Instead, I chose to fight. I killed the prisoners, I had my men been slaughtered, and I have blown up a compound full with our people. All for nothing but my damned selfish pride.” She trembled. ‘I am sorry. I am so sorry.’ 

Ashley came closer. She laid a hand on Shepard’s leg. “Jo, listen.”, it was the first time she called Shepard that way. Her grief turned into butterflies in her stomach. “Whatever decision you made, whatever you did or didn’t do, was bound to happen. It brought you to the place you are now. And this is the place where the Galaxy needs you.” This was one of those moments that had to come to a kiss. “Right now, I need you just by me”, said Shepard bending forward to kiss Ashley. 

Ashley didn’t open her mouth to return the kiss. Shepard backed off. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to..., I thought...” she stuttered. “This is unexpected. I am seriously flattered, Jo. But I am really not into girls, I mean, ‘that way’.” Shepard nudged her, “Hey, I am not ‘girls’, I am Commander Shepard.” This somewhat saved the situation. They drank the last shot in silence. Shepard was the first to speak again, “Ash, I would understand if you’d feel uncomfortable serving under me now. If that’s the case, please be straight with me. I’ll arrange for another posting; a proper command with the Fleet, of course, no more garrison duties for you. I’ll promise” Ashley shook her head, “Skipper, I don’t know where this journey takes us, but I’d be proud to be a part of it. I cannot rest from travel. I will drink Life to the lees.” “You read poetry?” Shepard was genuinely surprised. “I have a degree in English Literature”, Ashley replied with pride. Shepard opened and closed her mouth. “Really?” “Yeah, Online. But don’t spread it around.”

Shepard woke up with a slight hangover. She took a pill against it. Once her head was clear again, she changed into sport tights and -shirt, both with N7-emblem. She could use some jogging but the “fitness room” of this apartment was lacking a treadmill. She checked her omnitool, but it seems there were no gyms for humans or asari on the Silversun Strip, only a fight-club for turians. Sparing would be nice, but to turians, it was part of their sexuality - and she was not interested in a bird fluttering on her back. Jogging in the streets was forbidden on the Citadel. Only humans did that for sports and it always caused a stir with the other species. Finally, she went for some rounds against the punching bag in the lower bedroom. This was supposed to be Kaidan’s room, but he obviously had not slept here. ‘Luckier than me, Alenko?’, she thought while going through a sequence of roundhouse-kicks.

When Shepard was back in her room, Anderson called her. She put him on the big screen over her bed. Anderson frowned seeing Shepard still in sport dress. “What’s that, Commander, one day off the leash and all discipline has gone? This is no shore leave! Saren is still out there and he is up to no good.” “Yes, Sir, understood. Any leads from the Council.” She heard the showers from Ashley’s bathroom. This sound caused Anderson to frown again. After all, it already was 0830. “Indeed, the aliens came around with a certain ‘Martriach Benezia’. She is working for Saren. She has a daughter by the name of Dr. Liara T’Soni, who is, and that’s interesting, an expert on the protheans.” “That must be our link to the prothean artifacts”, Shepard concluded. She had not talked with anyone about the vision from Eden Prime. Instead, she had drawn the alien that had ‘spoken’ to her and compared her image with the few artistic depictions from prothean times on the extranet. They were matching; even though most of them got the skin color wrong. “So, you want me to get that asari and use her against her mother?”, she asked Anderson. “Shepard, you are a spectre now. Only thing I can do is set you on the trail. What you do or don’t do is up to you. That’s the point with having independent spectres. There is one other thing though”, Anderson launched his omnitool, “You take the Normandy, I am transmitting the command codes to you.” Shepard protested, “That’s not right, Sir. The Normandy is yours.” “Commander, the Normandy is not mine, she belongs to the Alliance. And when the Alliance says you get her, you get her. Besides, she was specifically designed for operations like these.” “Thank you, Sir. I won’t let you down.” 

Time to go hunting asari.

The apartment hadn’t changed since Kai Leng was last here, and security in the Tiberius Towers still was a joke. He started his tour by checking the refrigerator. Someone has been making pancakes. Two were left on a plate. Kai Leng picked the plate and started to eat while moving on. Shepard had left most of her personal items here. There was a holographic easel in the office. He launched it and went through her pictures. Most either showed planet-sites or were portraits of other women. They were good on a technical level, but Kai Leng wouldn’t call them ‘artistic’. One was a nude self-portrait of Shepard: a rather slim woman, he would have expected her to be more muscled. He copied that one to his omnitool. The very recent one caught his attention too: a blue alien with four eyes. “A prothean”, he mumbled. He copied that one as well. Time to check the upper floor. In the bathroom, he found a bottle of “Oceans of Illium”, a fragrance preferred by asari prostitutes. It contained pheromones that attracted other asari but didn’t work on humans. ‘So, that little pervert likes them blue too.’, he thought. The bottle was still sealed, though. After having eaten the pancakes Kai Leng used Shepard’s brush for his teeth. Afterwards, he cleaned the brush in the toilette. Leaving the plate in the bathroom, he checked on the wardrobes. Not surprisingly, there were only a few clothes. One revealed an N7 hoodie, similar to his own, a spectre armor, and a red Apex armor that had been in use by security forces on Elysium before the Blitz. A drawer held some underwear; only black and white, nothing special. He took a white sport thong as a trophy. Lying on Shepard's bed, he went through the recordings of his surveillance bugs. Afterwards, he called the Illusive Man, “Sir, you were right about the protheans. She is now heading for the Artemis Tau Cluster.” “Anything about the reapers?”, the Illusive Man demanded to know. “No, Sir. No one has mentioned them so far.”