literature

Someone You Can Trust

Deviation Actions

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Morgan Shepard fidgeted in the holo comm’s beam of light, bored with standing still and listening to a pompous asshole. Keeping one ear on the endless monologue about suspicions, connections, and data, she let part of her mind wander. This guy, this Illusive Man—talk about a pretentious name; I’m going to call him TIM instead—TIM is a pro at using words to hide as much as he reveals. Should have known someone like this would be behind Kahoku’s death and all those horrid experiments. And now I have to work with the sonofabitch. And probably his pretty, plastic mouthpieces. What were their names? Lawson was the bitchy biotic, but she’s smart, too. And...Taylor? Yeah, Taylor. His combat style screams former Alliance. Why are they working with an obviously sketchy guy like TIM? I’m pretty sure Tali would dismiss him as a bosh’tet.


But not all of her synapses were interested in bashing the Cerberus leader. I wonder why a terrorist group invested so much into bringing me back. If they truly did “bring me back” from the dead. Nobody comes back from the really, really dead. I could be a clone or a good AI. Or maybe just a really sophisticated VI. Something TIM here thinks he can control, or—


Shepard’s wandering brain cells all snapped back to the blowhard, sensing the long speech was finally winding down.

“Two things before you go. First, head to Omega and find Mordin Solus. He’s a brilliant salarian scientist. Our intelligence suggests he may know how to counteract the Collectors’ paralyzing seeker swarms.” Fuck. Does he have everyone in the galaxy under surveillance? I should tell this scientist to sweep his home and office.


Then the first part of his statement kicked in. Shepard stretched to her full height and leaned forward, though trying to intimidate via holo transmission wasn’t very effective. “I haven’t even started and you’re already telling me what to do?”


As expected, TIM dodged and hedged. But then he actually said something interesting. “I found a pilot I think you might like.” Voice fading slightly, he tapped commands to end the call. “I hear he’s one of the best. Someone you can trust.”


Shepard squinted as the bright holo lights dimmed. But she didn’t need to see once she heard the voice coming from the doorway.


“Hey, Commander. Just like old times, huh?” The outline has the right shape, even has a ball cap... .


“Joker??!! Comment dans le monde...” Rushing to close the distance, Shepard stumbled to a halt, remembering at the last moment not to crush the fragile pilot in a bear hug. “My god, it’s good to see you! Why are you here? You left the Alliance? How is everyone else from Normandy? Has it really been two years? I don’t know if I can trust these guys on basics like H2O = water, let alone how long it takes to resurrect someone. And what—”


“Jeez, take a breath, Shepard,” Joker smirked. “Not everyone can follow five different topics in multiple languages like you always could.” He paused to chuckle and shake his head. “And I thought getting you to verify some things was gonna be tough. But I do have one question, to be certain you’re really the Commander I remember. Ready?”


“I can only imagine what you’re going to ask,” Shepard groaned. “But go for it. Shoot.”


“Who farted the most in the Mako?”


“Dammit, Joker!” she scowled. “How many times do I have to say this? We were in sealed suits groundside, including when in the Mako. Even if something was audible, there was no smell. So it DOES NOT MATTER.” I would never tell tales about the dead, Ash. Your secret is safe with me. Requiesce in pace, mi amice.


“Damn, Commander. It’s like I just picked you up from Eletania,” Joker marveled. “Down to the same irritated tone. So that’s a pass—it’s definitely you. Even if the package has been...reassembled.”


“I guess ‘reassembled’ is one way to put it.” The hard edges of Shepard’s short bark—not quite a laugh—echoed in the metal room. “I went to Freedom’s Progress with two flunkies, and they said I died—dead as can be, just ‘meat and tubes’—and they brought me back to life. That’s tough to swallow, even when the group making the claim isn’t skeevy as hell.”


Joker glanced at the upper corners of the room. “Yeah...you might want to keep your voice down. I’m pretty sure everything here is recorded. And not for my kind of fun and games.” The cynical smile shifted as Joker’s eyes lit up. “Anyway, let’s go. I guarantee you are going to love what I’m about to show you.”


Shepard tried to talk through sudden laughter, and it came out a splutter. “No way. You already punked me once with that set up. I’m not falling for it again.” It took weeks for Garrus to stop teasing me. But I’d gladly endure more of his razzing if I knew where my favorite turian was. TIM said he just disappeared. Where are you, freaky raptor guy?


“It’s legit this time, Commander. I swear!” Joker held up one hand in something like an oath. “Come on.”


As they left the room and started down a long hallway, Shepard couldn’t take her eyes off his legs. “Hey, what happened? No crutches? And you’re walking so much better! That’s a great surprise right there.”


“It’s part of the reason I’m here and not with the Alliance.” Joker paused, looking out a porthole at space, then faced Shepard. “Yeah, once you got me out of the cockpit and into that pod...well, the ‘escaping’ and ‘rescuing’ didn’t go so well. Safety restraints aren’t designed for someone like me. So I ended up with a lot of broken bones, everywhere. In addition to the broken arm you gave me. You still owe me for that, by the way.”


“I did save your life,” Shepard pointed out. Where’d your snark go, Joker? Me owing you anything would normally be prelude to a joke, a bet...or attempted blackmail. “Let’s call it even.”


His bland facade cracked and shoulders hunched before turning back to the window. Emotion? From Joker? “We can’t...” He paused to clear his throat. “We can’t call it even. Because I saw you get spaced. I killed you. It was my fault.”


He took a breath and tried to laugh, but it came out more like a crow’s raucous call. “The only person who’s always liked my jokes—well, most of them—and I...shit... . I killed her.”


Whoa. Emergency! Need to lighten the mood. Shepard crouched a bit with her back to the wall, crossing one ankle on the opposite knee in a faux-seated position. “Well, I had my suspicions,” she intoned in a low voice, pretending to smoke a cigarette. “But I needed proof.”


Joker looked over his shoulder at her impersonation of the Illusive Man. “Wow, yep. You’re still a goof ball, Shepard. And I’m glad. But you can’t pretend what happened isn’t my fault. If I hadn’t tried so hard to save the Normandy, if I’d just bailed when I should’ve... .” He cut off, voice tight. Fuck, what can I say to him that he’ll believe?


After a deep breath, he sounded more like himself. “Anyway, yours truly got all the blame. The crew wouldn’t come anywhere near me at the memorial. Just sat there glaring in my direction. Anderson was the only one who shook my hand. Asked me about recovery and PT. Dr. Chakwas nodded my way but didn’t come over. Not even to grill me about daily meds, whether I was taking them as ordered. She ALWAYS does that. But not that day. It all pretty much sucked. Probably sucked worse for you, though, being dead and all.”


“My memorial? With Anderson and the team there? That’s...weird to think about,” Shepard said, shaking her head as she stood. “I’m sorry they did that to you. But listen to me: they weren’t there, on the bridge. They didn’t see how desperately—how valiantly—you tried to keep the ship together. Or how aggressively that other ship attacked. I’m sure if we both abandoned Normandy earlier, our assailant would have gone after the escape pods. And just about everybody would be dead.”


Shoulders relaxing, Joker turned around. “You think? Huh. Did Taylor tell you? Cerberus got hold of the Alliance debriefs with the surviving crew, including mine. I told them the ship wasn’t geth and didn’t match any known profile in the Alliance database. Based on that, Mr. Illusive thinks it was the Collectors, targeting you. So if the giant bug-men figured the ship had been abandoned and you weren’t aboard...well, yeah. Maybe they fire on the pods and try to take the rest of us out.”


Fuckity fuck fuck. The Collectors targeted me? Specifically me? Taylor mentioned Pressly. Who else died for me? I saw bodies that day... . No, I can’t go there right now. Focus on Joker.


He’d taken a deep breath and straightened, like a great weight had fallen off. “Jesus, Shepard. Wow. You really don’t blame me. I almost can’t believe it. I was sure you’d punch me or something. This will make the surprise even better.” “Wait. Before this surprise, tell me the rest, about your injuries and why you’re here. How you’re walking better.”


“Well, it’s a bad news/good news kind of thing,” Joker replied. “For a long time, my recovery didn’t go well. You remember asking about Vrolik Syndrome? After you got Spectre-fied and took over the Normandy? Well, whenever the docs declared me ready for PT, something else would break. So the Alliance took me off injured leave and put me on—”


Along with lowering his pitch to a dignified drone, he pulled in his jaw to create a double chin: “...indefinite medical probation, ‘pending future evaluation of recovered function’ or some bullshit.” He was back to Joker on the last phrase before continuing. “No timeline for when I’d be back in action or anything. I think they were just pissed that I refused PTSD counseling.”


“Joker,” Shepard sighed, crossing her arms. “Refused counseling? Really?” Not that I’m surprised. He usually covers up pain with snarky humor. Sometimes anger. He’d drive a therapist crazy.


“Listen, I wasn’t traumatized or in shock or anything. I was... .” He glared at Shepard like she was the review board. “Dammit. Grieving, okay? I was grieving. Pressly and Grenado died within seconds of each other, right on the bridge. Ten minutes earlier, he was showing her pictures of his kids. I played poker all the time with Emerson, Negulesco, and Crosby. Monica Negulesco had a killer poker face. She wiped us out all the time but was so damn funny we didn’t care. And Ray Tanaka had an even better asari porn collection than I did.”


Five more names, dammit, plus Pressly. I need the actual number. How many others did I fail?


He stopped with a sniffle, averting his eyes so Shepard couldn’t see any telltale dampness. “Nobody hears about this, got it? Nobody.”


Making a cross over her heart, Shepard promised. “Absolutely, Joker. That’s ironclad. Commanders are kind of like priests when it comes to stuff like this. And remember—I protected the identity of the prodigious farter. I don’t break confidences. Ever.”


With a suspicious look and one last sniffle, he resumed. “Well, okay then. Anyway, nobody on Arcturus cared about my dead friends, so why bother talking about it? All they cared about was ANN’s spin back home and the rumor mills on the Citadel. As far as I could find out, nobody planned to go after the ship, recover OUR CREW, or even investigate the freaking attack. The brass just acted like it never happened. Assholes.”


Carefully shifting his weight, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “You know what they DID investigate? You. My one and only counseling session, the ‘therapist’ asked me tons of questions about you. Except they weren’t even really questions. Like I could tell at the start he had already made up his mind about something.” He shifted again to his “I don’t like people in authority” voice. “‘What symptoms did Shepard exhibit after interacting with the beacons? How was she different? When did she start sharing her hallucinations about the Reapers? When did you realize Shepard preferred the alien crew over the humans onboard? How did it show? Did it contribute to the death of Chief Williams?’ It was such a load of crap I walked out.”


What the fuck? What the hell was going on? “Thanks for taking a stand. Sounds like some Alliance folks started drinking the same Kool-Aid as the Citadel Council. Some folks need to learn that ‘Reality does not go away when it is ignored.’”


“Yeah, you could say that...if I knew what ‘Kool-Aid’ was. You and your weird words and quotes. But, honestly...it just all fell apart without you, Commander. Everything you stirred up, the Alliance and Council just wanted it gone. A week or so later, some of us still on Arcturus noticed rumors spreading. Rumors that sounded an awful lot like that therapist’s bullshit questions. And the senior officers, they just looked solemn and shook their heads, saying things like, ‘She had such promise. How’d she end up so far off course?’ So we spoke up, defended you. Tried to kill the rumors. Some of the crew got transferred real quick to shit postings. The team—what was left of it—was broken up, records sealed, and the Alliance grounded me...permanently.”


A grimace crossed his face. “I hate to tell you all this, but once we leave here... . Well, there’s no way to avoid the garbage still circulating. The rumors on Arcturus showed up on weird conspiracy websites. But they didn’t die there, jumping somehow to mainstream news instead. Stuff like you’re crazy and the Reapers are a delusion, that the beacons brainwashed you, that you forced the crew to support the mutiny. The more we tried to have your back with Alliance Command, the more flak we got.”


The tired frustration gave way to hot anger. “You should see how the press treats Anderson. Especially when he says anything positive about you. Even though he’s a Councilor now, nobody listens to him. People actually laugh when he mentions the Reapers and warns a war is coming. The only one who’s made out okay is Alenko. He just keeps his mouth shut and accepts promotions.”


Well, damn. Doesn’t sound like I should expect any ‘welcome back’ parties. Watashi ga shinda nochi, naze watashi o hakai suru nodesu ka? “I’m glad you let me know. Not fun to hear, but I’d rather get the sitrep from you than be blindsided by that Westerlund news reporter. Khalisah something something something? Anyway, you still haven’t gotten to joining Cerberus yet.” “


Okay, okay. Some attache to the top brass stopped me outside physical therapy. Told me I was throwing my career away. That I should duck and cover, and it didn’t matter what the rumors said because you were dead anyway. Not like they could hurt you. I wanted to punch him.”


After the disgust passed and his lip uncurled, he continued. “I decided to surrender my commission. I just couldn’t stay there. Sent a message to Anderson thanking him and wishing him well. Did the same for Dr. Chakwas. Then came the paperwork. Human resources said I had to give at least 90 days notice if I wanted a medical discharge, but I didn’t want their fucking money. So I left. And a few days later I got a phone call, asking if I wanted to fly again...for Cerberus. I thought about it for a while—about Kahoku, those experiments you found, the ‘evil mad scientist’ vibes of the project leaders you took out. I asked my contact about it all, and she said I’d be working for a very specific, special cell, not interacting with any of the ‘problem’ units. So I said yes and joined.”


Shepard saw the wary expression and realized Joker was expecting some kind of criticism. Maybe even rejection. But after everything he’d described, she couldn’t give it. Shit, I might have done the same thing in his position. With a small smile and a nod, she encouraged him to finish.


“First thing they did was have their docs check me out. Went through some experimental treatment and a surgery to improve the bone strength in my legs. It’s still nowhere close to normal, but you can see how much better I get around. Only need braces now instead of crutches. After I recovered, they told me about you. That your resurrection was one part of some cutting edge project—and, if it worked, I’d be flying under your command. Trying to understand the science of bringing you back was way above my pay grade, but I was hoping they’d succeed. And they did! Even if it technically makes you a zombie. But hey, you look good for a zombie. Anyway, the other part of the project is a little further down the hallway. That’s the end of the story, so come on already.”


“Alright, alright. Lead the way, Joker.”


Shepard smiled at his excitement: still unable to run but moving far faster than the hobble she’d known. In less than a minute, they were standing next to a wall of windows looking in on a darkened room. The interior was impossible to make out.


“You ready?” Flipping a switch, he admitted, “They only told me about this part last night.”


Banks of lights began glowing one by one, slowly revealing a spaceship with Cerberus colors. Shaped like a frigate but almost too big to qualify. Obviously a prototype. ни фига себе! It can’t be. I’ve got goosebumps—it’s designated...SR-2.

“It’s good to be home, huh, Commander?”


Shepard’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, but she managed a watery smile. “I guess we’ll have to give her a name.” And I already know the perfect one.


________________________________________

Notes:

“Comment dans le monde” is French for “How in the world...”

“Requiesce in pace, mi amice” is Latin for “Rest in peace, my friend.”

“Reality does not go away when it is ignored” is a quotation from Dr. Thomas Sowell (1930- present), an American economist and social theorist who grew up in Harlem.

“Watashi ga shinda nochi, naze watashi o hakai suru nodesu ka?” is Japanese for, roughly, “Why destroy me/my reputation after I’m already dead?”

“ни фига себе” is a Russian exclamation of surprise and disbelief.


Thank you for reading! Please leave feedback if you enjoyed the story or have questions/suggestions. Or come visit me on Tumblr!

SummaryMorgan Shepard reunites with two friends: one old and one new...ish.

Notes: For the faithful readers already familiar with my Morgan Shepard/Thane long fic, I have not abandoned Heads and Hearts. But while I get back into practice writing Thane’s voice, I’ve been working on short stories about Morgan’s relationships with other people in her life. These stories will form a series called Heads and Hearts: Side Missions, and I’ll add to the series whenever I have a new story in good enough shape.

Standard Disclaimer: Everything Mass Effect is owned by BioWare, and I receive no financial benefit from this fanfiction.

Many, many thanks and dozens of drell cookies to my amazing beta, N7Siha.

© 2020 - 2024 barddoc1992
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