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Culture Shock	By : Hyperion Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 18745 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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"......I don't like this any more than you do, Commander, but war makes strange bedfellows."

John Shepard gritted his teeth as he fumed in front of the Normandy's holographic communication line. He wished he had a retort or response or anything that would change Hackett's mind, but he knew he didn't, and worse still, he knew the Admiral was right. They needed this, whether they liked it or not.

"How many Alliance soldiers has he killed, Admiral? How many colonies has he bombed? How many widows and orphans has he left in his wake?"

Hackett exhaled deeply. "You're not telling me anything I haven't told myself a hundred times already, Shepard. If I could, I'd put a bullet between the bastard's eyes myself. All four of them." There was a moment's pause as Hackett swallowed his disgust before giving voice to the unpleasant reality of their situation. "But the schematics we've received from what's left of the Hegemony have been legit. They've done their part, however begrudgingly. If we want more --- and we desperately need more --- then we've got to meet their demands."

John's anger came to a head, and the usually composed commander smashed his fist into the steel wall of the communications chamber. Hackett didn't begrudge Shepard the lack of composure. He was just as frustrated. "They brought this entire thing down on their heads," John yelled, his voice shaking with rage, "experimenting on the Leviathan of Dis....thinking they could keep a Reaper's corpse a secret..."

".....and now they've paid for it," Hackett responded grimly. "The technology they engineered from the Reaper's corpse turned on them, indoctrinating their scientists and corrupting their computers....but they learned things while they were at it. If Liara's observations on the Crucible's blueprints are accurate, and I suspect they are, then wha the Hegemony knows could be the key to completing the device and saving us all."

"And the Hegemony won't help as long as Balak's giving the orders."

"Afraid so."

Balak.....Shepard had crossed paths with the infamous batarian before, although every encounter had involved copious amounts of gunfire. From extortion to mass murder, the batarian's rapsheet was more than even an asari lawyer could keep pace with, and before the Reaper invasion, it had shown no sign of slowing down. After the Reapers had devastated Khar'shan and annihilated most of the batarian race, Balak's attentions had been focused on being the figure of leadership the batarian navy sorely needed. But John was under no illusions that responsibility had reformed the scumbag.

For the first time in decades, there was a tinge of hesitation in Hackett's voice. "There is one other condition, Commander."

Shepard sighed. "Polluting my ship with his presence wasn't bad enough? Lay it on me."

"You know batarians follow a strict caste system, with a slavery tenet included---"

"You can't be serious," Shepard blurted out, his stunned incredulity cutting the Admiral off mid-sentence. "Tell me you're not fucking serious with this!"

The profane outburst was one more thing Hackett was willing to let slip, given the circumstances. "Like I said, we need this, Commander."

"I can live with Balak walking around my ship, acting like he owns the damn place. I don't like it, but I can live with it, especially with EDI around to track him 24/7. But now I'm supposed to stand back and watch him drag some poor bastard onboard and treat him like dirt all day?"

Hackett's face, wizened by time's ravages, was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, and the sight of the man whom John had respected from the day he'd signed up with the Alliance in such obvious distress over the decisions he'd had to make forced Shepard to realize he wasn't the only one who hated being in this spot. "Alright," John relented, "I'll find some way to make it work. But when this war ends, if it ends, I can't promise I won't gut the bastard right in front of the crew."

The Admiral's lips parted in a brief, grim smile. The promise of potential vengeance was the only thing the two men had to assuage their consciences with, and they knew it. "Wouldn't expect any less, Shepard. Hackett out."

The chattering of the crew in the War Room faded to a quiet halt as Shepard stormed out of the comm room. They could sense his foul mood a mile away, and if the rumors they'd heard about the Normandy's new guest were true, then he was probably entitled to the foul mood. As far as John was concerned, this was just in an increasing number of unfortunate events being hurled his way, and what hurt most was that he was powerless to stop it. Nor did he know anyone who could --- Garrus was a general now, and Liara was the damn Shadow Broker, but he knew they'd both be forced to admit, just like Hackett, that they needed Balak for the Crucible.

Perhaps being so helpless wouldn't sting so much if he didn't feel so isolated. Most of his friends were scattered across the galaxy, doing god knows what --- Miranda had sent a hurried message about searching for her sister and not much else to go on. Wrex was likely battering up the defenses on Tuchanka. Thane was whiling away his last days in Huerta Memorial. On and on, John thought about where all his friends were, until the only one left was the one he'd been trying not to think about.

From the day he'd met Tali, it was obvious she'd harbored an enormous crush on him, like a schoolgirl daydreaming over a teacher. For his part, he hadn't truly reciprocated her feelings until the year before, when they'd worked together to stop the Collectors. It was hard to explain --- maybe dying and coming back to life had given him a new perspective on what to value --- but he'd decided to pursue the relationship Tali had yearned for, and she responded.....enthusiastically.

It was tough, at first; her compromised immune system made physical intimacy difficult, and their awkward fumblings in the engine room were always interrupted by her exo-suit's warnings about potential contamination. He hadn't been sure what to do about it, and had considered asking Mordin for advice, but Tali had already taken the initiative. Dosed up on every immuno-booster and anti-bacterial Mordin could whip up, she'd shown up in John's cabin one night and undressed before him -- it had been the first time he'd ever seen her face completely uncovered, and her delicate, nymph-life features had made him fall in love all over again. Vivid memories of that night flashed through his head: how she'd pulled him onto the bed on top of her, how she'd whispered in his ear not to worry, how she'd moaned softly as his tongue explored every curve and bump of her petite frame, how incredible it had felt to enter her for the first time, how they'd come together, again and again and again.....

He hadn't asked, but he strongly suspected he'd been her first.

Most breakups ended with someone wondering where it had all gone wrong. John already knew --- it was that hearing. Tali had begged him not to present the Admiralty Board with evidence that proved her father had been secretly building geth onboard the Alarei, but John insisted it was necessary. The Admiralty Board was trying Tali for treason, and the evidence against Rael'Zorah was the only way to absolve his daughter of involvement in his crimes. But the Admirals hadn't seen it that way, preferring the route of caution. He still remembered how thunderous their judgement had sounded, and how he'd wheeled around to face Tali --- he couldn't see her face behind the mask, but he knew there were tears in her eyes. For a people as close-knit as the quarians, there was nothing worse than being banished from the Migrant Fleet --- to be told that your people didn't trust you anymore.

Tali told John she understood that he'd done it for her, and that she didn't blame him for what happened, but it had changed their relationship. They still made love, but something was missing; like some part of her heart was now forever closed off to him. It had shaken him considerably, and he'd resolved to do everything in his power to show Tali how much she meant to him, to win her heart all over again --- but then the battle against the Collectors had come to an end, and the crew had to go their separate ways. For Shepard, there was an Alliance facility back on Earth waiting to question him about his work with Cerberus, but for Tali, there was nothing. Her home had exiled her, and she had nowhere else to go. She'd told John not to worry, that she could handle herself, but that had been months ago, and he hadn't heard from her since.

EDI's synthetic inflections thankfully stirred him out of his guilt-soaked thoughts. "Commander, the batarian passenger ship has requested permission to dock with the Normandy."

"Permission granted. Let's just get this over with," he replied, making his way to the Normandy's cockpit.

Joker nodded at the Commander as he approached. "You know, Commander, this could be our last chance to blow Balak out of the sky."

Shepard smiled. "Another day, Joker."

"You know I'm gonna hold you to that..." the pilot began, his words trailing off as the sound of the docking bay's doors sliding open reached their ears. Silencing the rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach, Shepard walked over to the receiving area and stood in wait for his opposite number.

He didn't have to wait for long before Balak sauntered onboard, the batarian's grin mocking the barely suppressed frustration on Shepard's face. All four eyes darted around the metal hull --- the body of a ship more advanced than anything the Hegemony could dream of, not that Balak would ever admit it. "Pile of junk," he spat, "only humans woud fly around the galaxy in something this crude."

"If you don't like it, Balak, you can leave," John replied through gritted teeth, doing his best to keep his voice even.

Balak's grin only widened. "I don't think so. I need the Alliance's fleets to protect Khar'shan --- the best purpose they'll ever find --- and you need what my people found while working on the Leviathan of Dis. You don't want me to leave, Shepard." He stretched his arms casually, delighting in Shepard's impotence. "Now, which way's the captain's cabin?"

"How about you go fuck yourself---"

"The captain's cabin is for the captain's use only," EDI interrupted, doing her best to defuse a volatile situation. "You and your......guest will occupy the Port Observation room on the Crew Deck."

Balak smirked. "Your minions speak for you, Shepard? Typical."

"Stop it, Balak," Shepard snapped, itching to rip out those eyes one by one, "if you think I won't take my chances with the Reapers without you, keep tempting fate. Just bring in your damn slave and go to Port Observation."

Balak wasn't quite perturbed by John's outburst. "Hmmph. Tough talk. Empty, but tough. Perhaps I tire of this. I think my slave and I will retire to my quarters now." He clicked a button on his collar that linked him to the batarian passenger vessel. "Grayl! Send the whore in."

The docking bay's doors hissed again as they slid open. In later years, John would think back to this moment and recall that it felt like an eternity at the time. The batarian called Grayl dragged Balak's slave across the length of the docking bay and flung her at his feet, and she instinctively crawled towards her master, wrapping her slender arms around his leg and clutching for safety. John's mind caught up with reality slower than his body did --- the cold chill down his spine and aching turmoil in his stomach threatened to fell him then and there. It was often said that it was hard to tell quarians apart underneath their suits, but Shepard had spent too much time exploring Tali's form to not recognize it when he saw it.

Balak's grin was less mocking than before, now a streak of pure malice. "I believe you two have met."
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Culture Shock