Hannah Shepard begins to get acquainted with her future

Hannah Shepard paced through the office the Nos Astra police officers had “generously” stuffed her in. It was sparsely furnished, with a desk and chair occupying one of the walls and a comfortable-looking couch situated directly across from it. She hadn’t felt like using it, not wanting to let herself relax.

I wonder if that idiot Anaya is aware of how much trouble she’s in. If word hasn’t gotten back to the Saratoga that I’ve been unjustly imprisoned, it will soon.

Her lips curved into a vicious grin as she imagined the looks on the faces of Illium’s Executive Board when elements of the Alliance 7th Fleet appeared in orbit around the planet with orders to release Hannah, her son, and her Marine contingent. She wanted to laugh.

The gall of these Asari to imprison a human flag officer. We might not have been able to do much about it even a few years ago if the Council decided to step in, but now we are the Council. At least, a significant part of it. Tevos might balk at such a blatant use of **** on the edge of the Terminus Systems against a planet Thessia does a lot of trade with, but we could be in and out before she was able to rally the rest of the Council against us.

It certainly helped that the Council at least pretended to feel indebted to humanity since the Alliance had sacrificed a large portion of the 5th Fleet to ensure the Destiny Ascension’s survival when Sovereign and the Geth had attacked the Citadel. To publicly side against the human race now, for engaging in a perfectly justified punitive action no less, would seem ungrateful and borne from naked self-interest of the highest order on Tevos’ part, who, if rumors were to be believed, was related to a significant stakeholder in the varying economic interests that operated out of Illium.

The certainty of impeding justice didn’t assuage Hannah’s anger, however, and she entertained herself with the thought of one of the officers walking into her gilded cage so Hannah could strangle her into blissful unconsciousness, grab a weapon and escape.

She took a deep breath, crossing her arms beneath her large breasts. It was strange to breathe in air that wasn’t recycled through whirring air filters. She looked out the window. The sun had fully set by now, and the sapphire light of the buildings and skycars which glittered beyond reminded her nostalgically of the sight through a ship’s viewport. While she had not been born in space, she had spent much of her adult life aboard starships and space stations and the occasional dome colony where walls of metal and cement separated the denizens from hard vacuum.

Her children hadn’t known what being planetside was like until they were near-teenagers. Thanks in large part to Mass Effect fields, gestating and raising children in space was no longer the health risk factor it had been a century ago. Combined with routine genetic alterations, her son and daughter were just as healthy and strong as those born on Earth, if not more so due to the simple fact that she and her husband had been far less wary of genetically modifying their children to maximize favorable traits than most Earthbound parents.

Luddites. The sooner we let go of this notion that childbirth is something that should be left to chance, the sooner we can embrace our potential to one day compete on even footing with the Turians, Asari, and Salarians. The fact that my daughter rose to become the first human Spectre proves that.

A knot twisted in chest when she thought of Jane, and suddenly she was taken back to the moment she’d been born. She’d been so little, so **** as she held her in her arms, Gregory watching them with a fond smile on his handsome face. The image shifted, and she saw Jane as an adult, fear in her emerald eyes as the Normandy broke up around her and she died alone in vacuum, trapped within a punctured hardsuit with no one to hear her cries for help.

She’d never recovered Jane’s body, no matter how fervently she’d searched. No matter how many strings she pulled. In desperation, she’d turned to the Shadow Broker for answers. The man or woman had no loyalties to speak of, and if it were up to Hannah the Alliance would have found and assassinated him decades ago and seized their operations for the sole benefit of humanity. But as long as the Broker lived, she had no qualms about putting him to use.

It was why she’d come to Illium; to find answers. To finally get closure after two long years mourning her baby girl. She had lingering suspicions that Liara T’Soni, Jane’s lover, hadn’t been entirely truthful to her when she’d gone to meet her and thrown the Shadow Broker’s information in her face, but wasn’t about to act on it without solid proof of Liara’s duplicity. It would be a cold day in hell before she used **** against someone at the Shadow Broker’s mere word.

Her doubts about Liara had dimmed somewhat when the young Asari had helped save her life. With her son’s assistance along with the help of a bona fide Asari Justicar, no less. That had been an immense surprise; she’d heard about Justicars, but never expected to see one outside of Asari space. She thought about Samara. It was amazing to think that the graceful, beautiful woman was nearly a thousand years old yet she’d torn through Hannah’s attackers like they were made of the paper humans had used on Earth centuries ago.

_What had she been doing there with John? How had they known that she and her Marines had been ambushed? Who had even ambushed her? They were mostly Turians, likely mercenaries. But who had hired them? _The Hegemony, maybe? Hiring non-Batarian mercenaries isn’t usually their style. No, here in the Terminus they’d just use one of their myriad state-funded slaver or pirate groups. They wouldn’t want a non-Batarian to take credit for a high-profile human kill that they themselves had sanctioned.

She shook her head. Trying to discern the identity of her attackers was useless now, but while she was imprisoned here, she had little else to do. If she could only speak to John, she could at least try to find out how he had known she was in trouble, and how he had managed to enlist Liara’s and Samara’s help.

Maybe Liara found out and got a hold of him. She is an information broker, after all. There was some sort of jamming field preventing us from raising anyone on comms, so Liara couldn’t have heard anything from the market square itself. Perhaps one of her contacts informed her. If so, she probably knows who ordered the attack.

She set her jaw. She and Liara were due for another talk, just as soon as she wrangled a few answers out of her son.

She remembered walking up to John and seeing him standing over the body of the Turian who had threatened to kill him, smoking gun still in hand. He had looked so much like his father that for a moment she was transported years in the past, when the Shepards had been a complete family.

But Gregory was gone and so was Jane. John was all she had left. He’d nearly died, and that had scared her. It had been like she’d nearly fallen into an endless cavern only for someone to grab her arm at the last moment.

Then she’d seen the impossible. John had fought for his own life and won out over the seemingly seasoned mercenary that had threatened him, without even a hint of remorse in his cold eyes. It was all she could do to suppress how proud she was of him at that moment, and a part of her had been disgusted by what she felt. No proper mother was supposed to be happy that her son had killed another person, even in self-defense. She especially shouldn’t have been pleased that it hadn’t bothered him, that he seemed to fully believe in the righteousness of the act. Wasn’t she supposed to want to preserve his innocence? To protect him from the world for as long as possible?

She thought back to when John was a boy. Even then, he’d distinguished himself from his peers academically; gifted with a preternatural understanding of technology that sometimes made her head spin. He’d seemed to have this incessant need to take complicated things apart and put them back together, like assembling puzzles. She felt her lips curve slightly as she remembered coming back to their shared quarters one time to find her home terminal in pieces, John carefully inspecting the components before rapidly reassembling them. She’d been angry at first, but then she’d tested the terminal and found that it processed her requests faster than it had before. So, she’d ruffled his hair and sent messages to engineers and other specialists who’d owed her a favor, and within a few days John had been informally apprenticed to some of the best engineers, mechanics, and technicians in the Alliance.

Hannah had long since resigned herself to the idea that John would never become a Marine like his father or a Navy command officer like herself, but engineers and technicians were direly needed among the fleet which was experiencing a period of rapid technological advancement that made the Industrial Revolution pale by comparison. The Prothean beacon on Mars continued to reveal its arcane secrets and the sheer osmosis of technologies from the Council races left many experts in their field flailing about like drowning men caught in a rip current. If the Alliance Navy was to adapt to such rapid technological shifts, it needed younger generations of recruits who weren’t constrained by the mindsets developed before the discovery of the Prothean beacon and the mass relay network. It needed people like John.

His refusal to accept the scholarship she’d arranged for him at Arcturus Military Academy still enraged her whenever she thought about it. It had felt like a betrayal; a massive slap in the face after she’d gone through so many hoops to secure him a spot a full year early. She couldn’t bear to correspond with any of her usual contacts for months after that humiliation.

He’ll come around when he sees military life is the only appropriate choice for someone of his skills and drive, but I will not help him this time.

The door to the office chimed behind her. She turned around just in time to see the red holographic lock symbol flicker into nothingness. The door swished open a moment later, revealing a dark blue, amber-eyed Asari dressed in a gray police uniform that hugged the athletic woman’s impressive bust.

“Lieutenant Anaya,” she spat, noticing for the first time that two more police officers were waiting in the hallway. Curiously, none of the three were armed. “Have your superiors finally come to your senses and decided to release me?”

Anaya inclined her head respectfully, not seeming to be fazed at all by Hannah’s ill temper.

“Yes, fortunately that appears to be the case, Admiral. Your imprisonment ruffled quite a few feathers among Illium’s Executive Board. It’s been determined that you along with your son and the people who accompanied you will be released on the condition that you leave Illium at once and never return.”

Hannah glared at the woman, even though her heart surged with elation. It wouldn’t do to seem pleased or in any way grateful in front of her jailor. Besides, she still had business here, and she’d be damned if she left before getting answers as to what really happened to her daughter’s body or who had tried to have her killed and nearly gotten her son murdered in the process.

“I see,” she breathed. “So, let me get this straight: I’m being banned from Illium because you and your moron incompetent superiors falsely imprisoned me for defending myself? Not to mention, I’m an Alliance admiral. One word from me and I could have a fleet of Alliance warships orbiting this shithole planet.”

Anaya’s subordinates tensed slightly, but Anaya merely crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

“You could, and honestly, I wouldn’t blame you. If it were up to me, you’d have never been arrested, but the chain of command is the chain of command. You know what I mean?”

Hannah did.

“If your superiors are stupid enough to give you an order that could endanger your world, you have a right to disobey them,” she said.

Anaya laughed, showing perfectly white teeth. For a moment, Hannah thought she saw something that looked like a strand of black hair trapped between two of her upper teeth.

Hannah shook her head.

Must be imagining things.

“Heh, I only wish that were true. If it’s any consolation, the ruling was made for your protection. Also, it wouldn’t be good for Illium if an Alliance admiral were to be killed here, and we have no idea if the men who tried to kill you were the last or simply the first attempt.”

Good for Illium? The absolute fucking nerve of these people!

“You know what’d be worse for Illium than a dead Alliance admiral?” she replied, glaring at her. “A very much alive Alliance admiral who’s angry at the unjust treatment I’ve received from the authorities of this world. If I wanted, I could bring down the wrath of a fucking Council race. Do you understand what that means?”

Asari skin didn’t pale as a fear response. It darkened.

Hannah barely resisted smiling at her jailers being so easily cowed. It wasn’t like she ever intended to follow up on the threat, and even if she did, it was likely her superiors would never agree to such a rash course of action so long as proper amends were made, but to be able to cast it out and see the women practically shake in their boots was incredibly cathartic after her last several hours of confinement.

Anaya swallowed.

“If you want, I can arrange a remote meeting for you with my superiors. It’d have to be held in my office since only my terminal has priority access to their comms. Would that be alright with you? I can’t promise you’ll get what you want, but I can guarantee they’ll at least hear your request.”

Hannah shot the woman a considering look.

Maybe Anaya’s not as incompetent as I thought she was. If she can put me in contact with the upper echelons of what passes for a government on Illium, I might be able to finally speak to someone with enough authority to lift the ban and help me put the squeeze on anyone I need to during my stay here. Someone tried to have me killed, and I’m not leaving until I find out who gave the order.

“Just barely,” Hannah allowed. A part of her wondered why the Executive Board would be open for calls this late at night, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. When the women didn’t move, she added, “Well, what are you standing around for, Lieutenant? Escort me to your office immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way,” Anaya said, starting down the gray-blue hallway. It was illuminated by pale white lights that lined the corners of the ceiling. Her shoes clicked softly on the metal floor.

Hannah followed her. The two other officers fell in step immediately behind Hannah.

They arrived at the main operations room less than five minutes later. It was the largest room she’d seen in the building so far, stretching to accommodate over two dozen workstations as well as prison intake. A half dozen or so Asari police officers sat behind white-gray desktops. A few of them typed at their terminals while others spoke, their omni-tools glowing as they communicated with people outside the precinct.

It was a lot less busy than it was before when Hannah and the others had been arrested, but that was to be expected considering it was later during the night.

Anaya led her to the other side of the room towards a door. Two stoic Asari officers stood guard at the doors. They wore gray-violet hardsuits with handguns fastened along their hips’ magnetic strips.

Odd that they’re guarding Anaya’s office while she isn’t using it.

Hannah eyed their firearms warily, wishing she were armed and wearing a hardsuit of her own.

Hell, I’d settle for having my omni-tool returned. Curious how they still haven’t bothered to hand it back to me.

The officers’ eyes panned over her dispassionately before they nodded at Anaya. Anaya nodded back and the door opened, revealing a brightly-lit, well-furnished office beyond. Anaya entered first, and Hannah immediately followed. She stopped suddenly when she entered the room and the door closed shut behind her.

Sitting at a large desk which dominated the far side of the room was John, his hands clasped behind his head and an easy smile on his lips. Behind him were a set of large windows which offered a mesmerizing view of the cityscape beyond. Written on the windows in gold lettering were the words: John Shepard’s room.

Hannah stared at the sentence for a long moment.

I wish I knew how John came into possession of Anaya’s office, but I guess it explains why he’s here. But wasn’t he carted off to a cell like the others? Did Anaya bring him here?

“Hey Mom, glad you could finally make it,” he addressed her, jolting her from her thoughts.

Nervousness and excitement warred within me as I watched my mother read the literal writing on the wall. A part of me had worried that because the pen had assigned itself to me as Jane’s closest living relative that it might not work on my mother.

When she didn’t so much as bat an eyelash at the gold lettering written on the window behind me, I knew I didn’t need to worry. I’d already won. It was only a matter of how quickly I wanted her to fall under my spell, and to what extent.

Mom frowned at me as I stared up at her from Anaya’s desk. Damn, she looked amazing. Her stark red hair was let down, falling slightly below her shoulders. She wore a skintight blue-white Alliance jumpsuit that hugged her huge tits and wide hips like a second skin. Her emerald eyes were wide, brimming with confusion and uncertainty. Thanks in part to genetic modifications and a healthy diet, Hannah Shepard didn't look a day over thirty despite pushing fifty.

“John,” she acknowledged me, her tone characteristically domineering. She folded her hands behind her back.

“This room belongs to me. You understand that, right Mom?” I had to ask. I had to hear it from her lips.

She sighed and nodded.

“Yes, the room is yours, obviously. Now, can we get to the matter at hand?”

“In a minute,” I barely resisted smiling when she shot me a look of irritation. My heart hammered heavily in my chest. “A quick rule before we do anything: you’re not allowed to leave this room without my say-so.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Mom crossed her arms beneath her breasts, frowning at me. “Rescind that rule right now!”

I simply raised my eyebrows.

“No. This is just the way things are going to be. The sooner you accept that, the better,” I said as calmly as I could.

A flicker of motion caught my eye, and I turned my gaze to Samara. She stood next to the door, behind Mom and Anaya, silent as a statue. She wore her skintight suit of red armor that showed off her impressive blue cleavage. Her lips were curved into a satisfied smile as she looked at my mother before glancing at me.

I’d wanted to make this just about the two of – Mom and I. We had so many unresolved issues that weren’t for other people’s prying ears, but I was learning to trust my servants and the power I held over them. Samara had insisted that she be allowed to stay with me at all times and I'd agreed. She was my Justicar after all, and sworn to ensure my safety even at the cost of her own life. Plus, she was easily the most powerful of my servants and I wanted her close at hand in case something happened. It also helped that she was incredibly skilled at lovemaking; centuries of life had afforded her an understanding of giving pleasure that most humans could never even dream of. Before Mom came in, I’d had her give me a quick blowjob under the desk. Seeing a nearly-thousand-year-old Asari Justicar debase herself that way for me sent shivers down my spine.

“Fine. If that’s what you’ve decided, I have no right to question it. It’s your room, so you have ultimate authority here,” Mom said finally, a pained look on her face. “Speaking of authority, Anaya said she could put me into contact with her superiors so I can convince them to change their minds about banning us from Illium. Anaya?”

I rested my arms on Anaya’s desk. That little lie had been my idea. I could have gone to the office they’d stashed Mom in and dealt with her there like I had with Ashley’s Marines and the rest of the prisoners who’d been locked up here, but that seemed too easy to me. Too impersonal. I’d wanted her to march down here full of authority and purpose, with an absolute certainty that she was about to get everything she wanted, only to rip the rug out from under her once she arrived. Only now, looking at her, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe I was being a little too harsh to her. Despite how much we argued and disagreed with each other, she was still my mother. True, I wanted to fuck her, but that didn’t erase how I felt about her, as fucked up as that sounds.

Oblivious to Samara’s presence, Mom glanced at Anaya in the clear hope that the officer had answers for her, but Anaya’s attention was focused on me, a fond smile on her face.

“Good work bringing my mother here, Lieutenant,” I complimented my police officer, relishing the way her cheeks flushed. “Go grab yourself some dinner. You’ve earned it.”

The Asari chewed her lower lip and rubbed her thighs together. My mother’s jaw dropped comically. God, this must be so confusing for her.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll do that,” Anaya nodded at me and turned to leave, but Mom reflexively reached out to grab her arm. I raised my eyebrows. Anaya stopped to look at her.

“What’s going on, Anaya?” Mom said, a tinge of delicious uncertainty in her voice. “I thought you were going to help me arrange a discussion with one of your superiors.”

Anaya gently pried her arm out of Hannah’s grip.

“You are about to talk to one of my superiors. The highest-ranking superior I have, actually,” she gestured over at me. “Um, sir. Do you mind if I show her?”

I smirked, liking the way this was going. “Go ahead.”

Anaya nodded and held her arm up. She rolled up her sleeve. My mother’s eyes widened when she saw the gold lettering there.

John Shepard’s ****

John Shepard’s police officer

“Ah, I see,” Mom nodded, the uncertainty leaving her voice. “John’s your superior officer and your master. I take it he’s responsible for my release?”

Anaya smiled proudly.

“That he is,” she smiled widely. “You should be proud of him. I’ve been a police officer for nearly a hundred years and I’ve never been happier to serve under anyone as much as your son.”

Mom actually preened at the praise. I nearly gaped at her. How utterly surreal.

“Well, that’s wonderful. I’m glad John’s treating his subordinate well,” she shifted her stance slightly, causing her huge tits to jiggle. “But I doubt even he has the power to rescind my expulsion from Illium, does he?”

“There never was an expulsion order, Mom,” I blurted out, tired of the lie.

She glanced at me, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

I glanced at Anaya. “You can go now.”

“Yes, sir.” My **** inclined her head towards me, almost bowing. She turned and left, sharing a quick nod with Samara.

I looked back at my mother. Her green eyes stared at me questioning. I avoided leering at her voluptuous body even if I knew it would probably only take a few words from me to make it okay with her. Instead, I gestured towards the seat in front of Anaya’s (now, my) desk.

“Sit down, Mom.” My throat suddenly felt dry.

She looked down at the seat before gazing at me again.

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on. Was Anaya lying when she said I had to leave Illium?”

I leaned back in my cushioned seat.

“Yes, she was. I told her to tell you that story to get you psyched up to come over here.”

Mom frowned.

“Why the hell would you do something like that?” she slapped her hands down on the desktop, leaning over towards me. Her big breasts were at eye-level with me, and it was really, really hard not to stare. “This isn’t the time for jokes, John! Our lives have been on the line ever since we were attacked by those… mercenaries. You almost died!”

Her eyes grew wet. She looked away and rubbed them with her sleeve.

I sighed, remembering the Turian who’d threatened to kill me. Tetran, I think his codename was. I saw his eye burst in an explosion of blue blood and viscera.

I shook my head free of the memory. It was like Liara said, it was either him or me, and I made the right choice and chose me. He’d probably be far from the last person I would have to kill before all this was over.

“I know, I know,” I said softly. “Okay, new rule while we’re in this room: when I tell you to do something, you have to do it. Now, sit down.”

Mom glared at me, but nodded.

“Fine, but I’m only doing this because I have no other choice.” She pulled out the chair and sat down across from me. She scooted the chair in, and her huge breasts were squished slightly against the desktop.

“See how easy that was?” I held my hands out for emphasis.

Mom’s eyes narrowed into emerald slits.

“Wise ass. If you were any younger, I’d ground you for a whole month for being an arrogant, spoiled brat.”

I chuckled.

“I’m sure you would, but I’m an adult now. And I’m only just starting to discover what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.”

Mom raised her eyebrows.

“I don’t suppose that means you’ve reconsidered not attending military school?” she said flatly.

I shook my head.

“No. That ship sailed a long time ago. No offense, but military service was never going to be something I’d enjoy. Way too stifling. No, I like where I’m at now; in a position to give orders. Even you have to follow them, Mom.”

My mother leaned back slightly, and her breasts wobbled enticingly.

“Only while I’m in your room. Once I leave, we’ll see who has to follow whose orders,” she said, a slight grin on her face, like she was challenging me to disagree with her.

Well then. Challenge accepted.

“Roll up your sleeve and hold out your arm,” I said. “I want to write something on it real quick.”

My mother pursed her lips and obeyed, rolling up her sleeve and holding her right arm over the desk.

I retrieved the pen from my pocket. Mom’s eyes focused on it immediately, but strangely enough, they didn’t glaze over like so many others had when they looked at it. Instead, Mom seemed entirely lucid. A side-effect of being related to me?

“What’s that, a pen? I didn’t think they made those anymore,” she said offhandedly.

“What’d you think I was going to use to write on your arm?” I raised my eyebrows incredulously.

She shrugged.

“I don’t know, but you told me to hold my arm out, so I’m holding my arm out. Now, can we get this over with so we can talk about what to do next? I have a lot of questions for you that need answering,” she replied sternly. “Oh, and you’d better not write anything embarrassing and/or idiotic or there’ll be hell to pay.”

Her green eyes glared at me, promising retribution. It was an expression I’d seen a million times, and maybe was the fact that our entire power dynamic had changed, but I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she was in that moment.

As an admiral in the Alliance Navy, Mom would be incredibly useful to me. She could put me in contact with Alliance High Command as well as arrange meetings for me with anyone in Parliament. Even the President. Anyone under her command I wanted for myself she could deliver to me personally. She could give me ships, soldiers, weapons, intelligence; anything I needed to help spread my influence throughout the galaxy. Through her, I could bring the entire Alliance government under my control and direct it to start preparing for total war with the Reapers. I’d have to start slow until the other races were on board. The Treaty of Farixen would have to be repealed so the Alliance and the other governments could start mass producing dreadnaughts. Thankfully a Reaper invasion was probably (hopefully) years away.

Right now though, I was mostly just interested in Mom for her body. Good fucking god, that body. Those huge tits and thick thighs. That fat, round ass. How any of her subordinates could even concentrate or resist staring at her was beyond me. I could not fucking wait to sleep with her. It was going to be so amazing. Maybe I’d have Samara join us, just to keep the MILF theme going.

I stood up and grabbed a hold of Mom’s arm, barely resisting the urge to squeeze her smooth skin.

I took a deep breath. This was it. After this, my relationship with my mother would change forever. My stomach twisted into knots, and I clenched my fist.

Relax, I told myself. Concentrate. I’d come too far to back down now.

I pressed the pen against her pale, soft skin and started to write.

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