Mass Effect: Reaper Dreams

Frozen Memory

"We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are."

Anaïs Nin

August 20th, 2183

Commander Josslyn E. Shepard

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Josslyn Shepard watched the snow and ice driving against the slanted windows of the Port Hanshan Plaza as she drank her coffee in silence. It was dark now, and it would be another twenty-three hours until Pax was in the sky, plenty of time to get the garage pass she needed. In the distance, a security guard watched her with a wary eye. The guard had been reporting her progress to Anoleis ever since they met with the Administrator earlier that afternoon.

Garrus, who stood just to her right, was being his usual impatient self, fidgeting with his rifle, shuffling on his feet. Try as she might, she couldn't get it into his thick, Turian skull that they weren't about to make the trip to Peak 15 in the dark. She understood his anxiety to some degree. The threat they faced was nearly beyond description. However, rushing headlong into trouble without a plan wasn't going to do anybody any good. They needed to be reasonable, to take only deliberate actions instead of wasting energy on reactions. Shepard owed Kaidan and the rest of the galaxy at least that much.

Liara was on her left. As usual, she had retreated into her head to hide away her emotions and anxiety. On the one hand, Shepard appreciated the exterior calm, so unlike the tension that boiled off her Turian friend. On the other hand, she'd pay good money to know what was going on behind those pretty blue eyes. What thoughts were hiding under those funny little tentacles? Hopefully, the Asari was saving a few of them for her Commander.

Shepard berated herself. 'There you go again. The entire galaxy is at stake, and you can't manage to put sex aside for more than ten minutes. What is wrong with you?'

Of course, she could berate herself all day and nothing would change. She'd still be the same old Josslyn Shepard. There were two wires running through her brain that were always hot enough to melt through any insulation she could coat herself in. One was war, the other women.

It wasn't exactly coincidental that she was primarily able to indulge in the latter by being exceptional at the former. Love was war, and war was love. They both required equal parts awareness, patience, skill, and passion. She'd built her reputation in both arenas by walking the high wire, learning to unleash and direct the savage inside without ever losing control of it. She was good at the game, damn good, but perhaps she'd grown a little too arrogant if recent events were any indication.

She'd been on a losing streak lately. She'd not only lost, but lost big. Chief Williams wasn't interested. Apparently, she was straight as an arrow, or at least too straight to consider Shepard an option. Worse, Ashley's flirting, which had felt so grand early in the game, had left Shepard twisted into a knot so tight, she was starting to worry if she'd ever be able to unravel herself again, and then there was Dr. T'Soni.

Liara was turning out to be a mystery Shepard couldn't quite solve. The Asari ran hot and cold. It was go, go, go, 'I like you Shepard, I am very interested,' and then full stop. 'We should focus on our mission.' Were all Asari (aside from Consort Shaira) so confused?

Her soldiering wasn't fairing much better. Virmire had been an unmitigated disaster. She'd lost Saren, let her best friend die, and all she had to show for it was the gratitude of a dozen Salarians and a wild story that the Council didn't believe. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she believed it herself.