SquigglySquid A/N: 'Parable' is a series telling the story of Jane Shepard and Garrus Vakarian, a pair that meet under very different circumstances than the Mass Effect Trilogy. Starting with his look into a seemingly simple complaint on the Presidium, Garrus soon meets a woman that leaves a large impact. So much so that the two soon develop first a strong, comfortable friendship before becoming lovers and, ultimately bond mates and husband and wife. From there, their relationship sends ripples through their battle against the return of the Reapers.

MosaicCreme A/N: The series 'The Lives and Deaths of Commander Shepard' is about Dawn Shepard who experiences an awakening of sorts. It is revealed to her there exists about a thousand other Commander Shepards, whose consciousnesses reside within her own. With the help of the strongest of these voices, Jane Shepard, Dawn is fighting to change the series of events the others experienced in the hopes of breaking the cycle they are in. If she fails, she fears she will one day join the others, becoming trapped inside the mind of the next Commander Shepard, forced to relive the same terrible battles to save the galaxy from the reapers.

General A/N: Sections written by SquigglySquid will be labeled 'Parable' and sections written by MosaicCreme will be labeled 'TLADOCS'. This indicates author and characters POV, it does not denote a change in setting.

The Meeting of Two Shepards

Parable

Despite the heavy rain pelting them like dense bullets, it was hot, humid, and any other kind of description for the horrible weather pouring down over them. If anyone asked Jane, it seemed like the sudden rain only made everything worse, weighing down the air and wetting it to the point where it stuck in her throat. Even worse, it slicked the metal beneath hers and her mate's feet, making it even more dangerous to trek through the prefabs precariously dug into the side of the cliff. Not that her worries would have been alleviated much under the best of weather. They were still hanging over a bottomless pit with nothing but a faith in shoddy construction work.

When she thought about it, she had no clue how the vorcha gained control of Namakli or how Doctor Ann Bryson and her excavation team managed to stay hidden. Surely a giant team digging around would catch the vorcha's attentions, as they seemed to be the only living inhabitants after a history Jane was too lazy to look up. However, perhaps limited time and Reapers played to Bryson's side in that situation.

Reapers doing something good? That's laughable.

Last Jane knew of this shit hole of a planet, harvesters and every other husk under the sky took to bombarding the place in a seemingly uncoordinated attack to find the orb Bryson had been studying. Then, the prefabs her team used all but fell into a chasm, much like the one below this vorcha camp - or whatever other term to use for a collection of vorcha squatting in some long abandoned settlement - and odds that the struts holding up the ground beneath their feet would last much longer didn't seem in their favor.

Every creak and groan of the supports made Jane all the more curious as to just who the fuck thought building along the walls of a canyon was a fantastic idea, but she didn't dare put her frustrations to verbal questioning. Fate was a cruel bitch and always seemed to be waiting for the perfect moment to throw them into a shit storm, and Jane just didn't feel like testing that. Not if it meant there'd be a laugh being shouted somewhere in the universe over the apparent stupidity the Vakarians always found themselves in.

Perhaps the construction of those labs stood as a means to shelter whatever poor souls that were cursed to work here from the storms who knows how long ago. Not that the hoards of vorcha using these wasted prefabs as breeding grounds give two shits. Storms that, apparently, brought about palm-length bugs to swarm around Jane and her husband in attempts to move in close and grab a bite to eat from their unarmored heads and necks. No manner of weapons or biotics would hold the bugs off, so she and Garrus could do nothing but wave their hands and try to kill any bloodsucker that drew too close.

At least the vorcha are taken care of.

All around the dual leveled prefabs laid the dead, and often charred, remains of vorcha. Without leadership of a krogan - as usual with vorcha - they fell quite quickly. Many charged ahead and out of any semblance of formation, all set for the kill without understanding that a single man could not take on two soldiers with courage - or stupidity - only no matter the weapon or his natural healing ability. Where Jane used biotics and her boomstick, Garrus used his rifle and tech, and both brought down the pack of over twenty vorcha. All good considering it would have either been being eaten to death by the pain in the ass pests or shot - or set aflame - by equally as annoying pests.

"Remind me again why we took this contract?" She swatted at a particularly large alien mosquito and curled her lip at the disgusting smear of cobalt left on her gloves.

Looks like one got Garrus. Killed the bastard, so there's that.

"Credits," he answered with a chuckle and stepped up onto a half fallen prefab that led into a small alcove. Turning back to her, he offered a hand up the considerable height - for her short stature. "I think the saying is, 'Gotta get those credits'?"

She snorted as he hefted her heavily armored body up and onto the prefab's sloped roof. "But why pick this one?" A look around told her nothing as to why the Reapers even wanted to attack this planet in the first place, and she knew it had to be more than just the orb Garrus shot the hell out of. Either way, it never hurt to give it a second once over - even if it was on a planet in the ass end of nowhere. "Certainly we could have gone for something less…"

"One with less giant, bloodthirsty bugs and screaming vorcha?" He smirked at her nod before rumbling with tease. "Afraid I didn't see anything classier, Jane. Apologies."

"Smart ass. Next time I choose the job."

"Last time I let you choose jobs, you took me on a suicide mission."

Jane shrugged, ignoring him as she dropped down from the lower side of the roof and onto the solid ground of the cavern. Portable lights - some still working and many others long since burnt out - lined the walls at intervals going deeper into the cliff. Whoever was here before had clearly started digging for something, but, as they moved deeper into a tunnel, she and Garrus easily realized this past expedition never completed its search. By the looks of things, they not only gave up, but dropped everything to leave. Pristine organization and supports structures holding up the walls soon gave way to a haphazardly dug hole, barely big enough for the two of them to climb through single file.

If I'm having a hard enough time, I'm reluctant to see the angle Garrus is bending himself in.

"Testing your flexibility to go with that reach?"

He huffed a scoff, he tone clipped in exasperation more than ire. "You'll never let me live that down, will you?"

"Not likely." Coming up to a large rock fallen into the path the vorcha hurriedly cleared through, Jane stopped and tried to bend her back to get it to pop. The move had very little success in the cramped space, but the pitiful - yet satisfying in this situation - little snap of her spine relieved some of the tension. "You know, if the Alliance or Council or - hell - even our richest employer, Cerberus, gave me this mission, I'd say fuck it and get the hell out of it."

"But you won't because we're actually going to be getting paid for this." Garrus could compete with the best gymnasts with the pose he bent himself into - one hand holding himself up as he hunched over and stretched out his neck by turning his head one way, then the next. "Why don't we ever go anywhere nice?"

"Because our luck sucks balls."

"Pleasant," he deadpanned.

She grinned in victory at the possible mental image she just blessed him with before stepping up to the boulder. Her husband followed suit, moving beside her and they both used their combined weight to push.

This job sounded easy enough when they read through the data. Come to Namakli, find this particular site, and find some artifact that the vorcha found and were trying to sell for exuberant prices. Normally, Jane would shrug it off, knowing vorcha would put a price tag on shit if they could, but apparently their own employer had ideas about said artifact.

According to the limited data they were given - limited in that even their contractor didn't know everything - this artifact was something entirely different from what Ann Bryson was finding. Something about what the vorcha were claiming seemed to make the man, woman, or whoever their employer was think that this thing could act like a miniature relay. Apparently, the vorcha thought this because, when they placed something in, it didn't come back out, but Jane thought that was a load of horseshit. It could simply be a pretty hole they were throwing their trash into, knowing vorcha, but the buyer seemed intent. Whatever this anomaly was, they wanted to either study - or just out right use - it for themselves.

With a loud grind of stone on stone and disturbing rain of pieces from the ceiling of the tunnel, the large rock finally shifted enough so that she and Garrus could slip between it and the wall. The lights dimmed down to growing shadows and shrinking visibility this far into the cliff side, but she didn't need much illumination to see what they've been looking for. By the sound of his clicking mandibles and soft rumble of confusion at her back, she knew he saw it too.

Seeming to float above a pool of rolling liquid sat an orb frighteningly similar to those the leviathans used to control their thralls, except the warning of 'something's different' kept ringing in her head. She examined it further to try and pick whatever it was out, slowly building a mental checklist.

To start, even from her current position she could tell its size had to be least twice the size of the orbs they had experience with. Besides that, Jane couldn't remember ever seeing a Leviathan orb free floating or oozing smoky liquid without any apparent damage. This fluid pooled into a perfectly round mass that rippled outward, but never overflowed past the perimeter it made for itself over time. Not even traces of the pool's expansion or breakage of the pristine and perfect orb existed on the dusty ground, appearing to have a supernatural force that kept it in place despite the never ending movement within.

"What. The. Fuck." Sighing, she approached the pool and gazed into a liquid that showed no reflection back. "How the hell are we supposed to transport this thing?"

"Looks like we aren't getting our pay for this one," Garrus said as he stepped beside her and tossed a small stone into the unearthly pond. It didn't sink to disappear into the black as expected; at least not completely as it sat half submerged in. "That's got to be only a few centimeters deep."

"Right. You first."

"Turians don't swim." He looked up at the orb and his mandibles flicked against his chin as he hummed in thought. Of course he'd use that excuse. "Maybe we shouldn't mess with it-"

"Fuck it." With a roll of her head to crack her neck, she squared her shoulders in readiness. "Time to pull on your big kid britches and go for it."

"Jane…"

She didn't pay any mind to his admonishing, yet concerned, tone as she stepped into the pool and opened her Tool to begin a diagnostic of the strange orb. Last thing they needed was another Leviathan mind control orb - even if the vorcha didn't seem to be under any sort of puppeteering at the time of their deaths - so she needed to know if they'd be better off destroying it or trying to find a way to actually get this thing aboard their shuttle and back to the Normandy, and their credits in hand.

The feeling of her stomach dropping hit before the actual realization of falling overcame her. A panicked voice screamed her name to the sound of splashing, but her mouth refused to move in any reply. It felt like drowning, but her lungs didn't burn with the need for air. Instead of a sting from the touch of the strange liquid against her open eyes as water would. Only black surrounded her before she simply stopped, no longer able to register the abnormalities of her situation.

The Lives and Deaths of Commander Shepard (TLADOCS)

Namakli had the entire horde of other Shepards locked away in Dawn's mind in a complete uproar. Even though Jane did all she could as ringleader to the half-crazed voices, keeping their maddening whispers at bay, Dawn still felt the flood of panic sweeping through her everytime she turned a corner. Visions of reaper troops dropping from the sky filled her mind, and the screams of banshees echoed in her ears … she needed to stop several times just to remind herself it wasn't real. Not for her, at least. Not now—maybe not ever, if she played her cards right.

Then again, she didn't play her hand very well with the leviathans, otherwise she wouldn't be on Namakli at all. Still, it might be a fool's errand, but Jane latched onto the idea there might be something worth finding on the planet when EDI suggested it, and Dawn failed to convince the dead woman to let it go and leave her alone. She supposed she deserved as much after having the bright idea to ask EDI to record her memoir. The goal being to provide the AI with as many details as Jane and the horde could dredge up of what the future held in store if Dawn didn't change things. She wouldn't admit it—couldn't admit it—but some part of her knew she fought a losing battle, and her team needed the information rattling around inside of her head if they were going to stop the reapers without her.

"Siha?" Thane's voice, heavy with concern, broke through the cloud hanging over her mind.

The memory of a harvester diving toward her vanished as she blinked her eyes. Turning, she looked at him and forced a smile on her face. She hated needing to; it felt like a lie, but the increasingly frequent, narrow-eyed gazes she'd been getting from both him and Garrus lately left her paranoid. If she didn't pull her act together—hide the signs of battle from them—it'd only be a matter of time before the entire crew mutinied against her, locking her up in the med bay and refusing to let her leave.

She let her gaze slip to Garrus, finding him palming a syringe—just like the ones she carried herself, just in case. He fluttered his mandibles and tucked the sedative away before waving her over. Making her way over to him, she stopped between him and James, who promptly lifted his arm to rest on her shoulder. Dawn snorted but kept her attention on Garrus and the tunnel he pointed at.

"The signal's coming from in here." He hummed, fluttering his mandibles again. "Are you sure you don't want to check in with the task force team first?"

She shook her head. "They're all enthralled by now. Dr. Bryson might be able to offer us insight, but the chances are, whatever she tells us will only be what the leviathans want me to know."

"Ídolo, we're not going to leave Task Force Aurora like that, right?" James dropped his arm from her shoulder, nudging her to get her to look at him. "I mean, maybe we're not supposed to know about them, but we do and we're here …."

"Right, because we didn't already get our asses kicked by the leviathans once." Jane snorted in the back of Dawn's mind.

"We'll call Hackett once we're back in the air. I don't want to draw attention to ourselves here, James." She started into the tunnel, pulling out her pistol and turning on the flashlight. "For all I know, the leviathans will have the task force kill me on sight for not heeding their last warning. Unless you want to have our hand forced into shooting our own." She glanced over her shoulder, just barely making out his furrowed brow and deep frown in the shadows. "Didn't think so."

They followed the path of the tunnel carved out of the side of the cliff, leaving behind the ruined prefab structures from past failed colonization attempts. Dawn fought off the urge to jump or gasp at every echoing footstep or drop of mineral-rich water falling from the rocks above as they progressed through what appeared to be an abandoned digsite. Forcing thoughts of reaper boogeymen out of her mind, she wondered just how old the site might be; everything looked new and untouched by time or use at first. Perhaps Dr. Bryson's team started here and moved elsewhere at the leviathan's bidding. Maybe EDI and Jane were right and they'd find something important on Namakli after all.

Eventually, the tunnel narrowed, leaving behind the relatively modern support structures and floodlights, forcing them to rely completely on their flashlights—or, she supposed in Garrus and Thane's case, superior vision. Herded into single-file, Dawn began to wonder if James and Garrus would be able to make their way through the tight space. A few steps further and something shifted in the air, subtle but palpable enough to send a chill down her spine.

She stopped dead in her tracks; James' hand pressed against her back as he steadied himself, stopping just shy of running her over. "Something's not right."

"It's probably just Jane messing with your head, Ídolo." A soft huff of breath made it clear he suppressed a chuckle. "You've been kinda jumpy all day."

"The air is different here." Thane's soft-spoken words echoed around her, making it sound as if he stood right next to her when she knew he walked drag. "Heavier, with a metallic taste."

"That's not it … it's like there's something … brushing against us, prodding. Like when you joined with Liara." The unease in Jane's voice wasn't lost on Dawn.

"Fantastic." She checked the thermal clip out of habit and sucked in a deep breath. "We're coming up on something. Leviathan, probably, but maybe reaper tech."

"How can you tell?" James asked from just behind her.

"Jane can feel it," she said, lifting a hand to tap the side of her head, "trying to get in." She glanced over her shoulder again, searching out the faces of all three of them—the parts visible in the low light, anyway. "We need to make this quick."

Pushing forward, a faint glow in the distance caught her attention. She held up her hand, stopping her team again and lowered her light to the tunnel floor as she peered into the distance. An oversized orb, much like the ones the leviathan's favored, stood out against the darkness. Keeping her light low, she inched her way forward until she came to a slight dip in the rock beneath her feet just as the tunnel ended, opening up into an expansive cavern.

"Watch your step." She stopped, just inside the protective walls of the tunnel and peered around the edge, sweeping her light over the area ahead.

Nothing. Just rocks, shadows, and one weird ass orb glowing softly and bleeding something somehow even darker than the rest of the cavern. "Gods, what the hell is that?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm willing to bet it's tied to the leviathan."

"You think?" Dawn thought, not bothering to tone down the snark. Stepping down, she swept her light around again as she made her way toward the orb, the uncomfortable pressure growing stronger with each step. The steady sounds of the others' footsteps behind her kept her going when all she really wanted to do was turn around and go the other way.

Getting a little closer, she realized the orb hovered, seemingly unsupported by anything on any side. When she reached the orb, she saw whatever the hell poured out of it didn't soak into the rocks below but settled like oil on water, gathering into a softly rippling pool, too perfectly round to be natural. Garrus moved to her side, trailing the beam of his flashlight out over the pitch black water. The pool seemed to drink in the light, leaving nothing to reflect back at them.

"Uh … well that's not creepy." James moved up to her other side, shining his own light on the black, trembling surface before lifting it to the steady trickle of fluid coming from the orb.

Squatting down next to the water's edge, she muttered, "Shoulda brought Mordin."

"How deep do you think it is?" James kicked a rock, sending it skipping across the dark surface before it came to a stop on the other side just within the confines of the pool.

Glancing up at him, she cocked an eyebrow. "Not very."

From a little closer, she felt far more certain the liquid, whatever the hell it was, couldn't be water. Reaching out a gauntleted hand, she intended to just skim the surface, hoping to bring a few drops of the substance a little closer to her face for examination. In the fraction of a second it took for her to make contact, she realized two things: she fucked up, and it hurt. Pain coursed through every nerve of her body, searing her brain with electric flames. In the next millisecond, a concussive blast shot from the orb, knocking her on her ass and throwing those standing around her back a meter or more.

Dawn scrambled to right herself, only managing to get one leg tucked under her before the wave of nausea hit. She stopped trying to get back to her feet, taking the moment to clear her head. Lifting her pistol and flashlight, she did a sweep of the cavern, fully expecting reaper troops to pour from the shadows. The sound of wet, sucking gasps from someone long deprived of oxygen snapped her attention back to the leviathan creation in front of her.

Her brain stalled for the span of a heartbeat, shock temporarily stunning her when she laid eyes on a red-headed woman pulling herself up out of the muck. A human woman. Not a husk, nor a banshee, not even a brute nor a cannibal. A human in armor; hands pressed against the surface of the miniature lake as if it were no more than a couple of centimeters deep despite the fact half her body remained below the surface. The liquid clung to her as she climbed, stretching with her ascent as if reluctant to let her go, before reaching its tension threshold and sloughing off of her, falling back to the pool.

Dawn leveled her gun on the woman as she pulled the rest of herself free. Even with Dawn's head still spinning from the blast, she kept her focus sharp and her aim tight. She heard Garrus and the others pulling themselves to their feet behind her, but they just weren't moving fast enough to cover her ass—an ass still splayed out on the cavern floor, no less. "Hands where I can see them."

The intruder's head snapped up, green eyes meeting Dawn's gaze, reflecting as much shock as Dawn herself felt. A shaky smile spread across the red-head's face as she slowly lifted her hands, showing Dawn her empty palms. "Come on, now. You wouldn't shoot a lady before she can make herself decent, would you?"

Licking her lips, Dawn swallowed and pushed herself to her feet, doing her best to ignore the static in her head. "It depends. Who the fuck are you, and where the hell did you come from?" The sounds of weapons being drawn behind her eased some of the tension building up in her neck and shoulders.

"Well, as you can see, I came from this fucking puddle—" Her words were cut off by the raspy, loud sounds of someone choking.

Without having to ask, one of Dawn's team shifted the beam of their flashlight to take in a turian surfacing the same way the other stranger did. The red-headed woman dropped her hands, rushing toward the turian. She made it two steps before Dawn fired a warning shot next to her feet.

The woman stopped just long enough to throw a look full of vitriol over her shoulder. "Shoot me if you want, but I'm saving my fucking husband."

Dawn grit her teeth, a muffled groan tearing through her throat as the red-head kept moving. She let the other woman go, but shifted her aim to track the red glow of lights against black armor.

Making it to the turian's side without being shot, the woman held her hands out to him. "Shit, Garrus—"

"What?" Jane said, her surprise almost enough to knock Dawn back on her ass again.

"Let's not do that again." The turian said, his voice weak. He lifted his head, his face turning toward the light, a threatening growl echoing off the walls around him.

The cobalt markings on his face—looking way too familiar—illuminated by the glow of a visor covering his left eye turned Dawn's blood to ice. She blinked and then blinked again, her jaw hanging slack. "What?"