The final chapter to this small story. Enjoy.

MAKE UP

It takes an ocean of trust if you are going to survive long hours traveling between solar systems.
Moments between Garrus and Shepard before the Omega 4 Relay mission.

Vakarian sat silently at the debriefing table, regarding each member of the special tasks force as they talked amongst themselves. There was little to do on such short notice except patiently wait for Shepard's entrance and, well... talk. This was also the first time the aliens were allowed to share the conference space with Cerberus, considering Miranda and Jacob's insecurities about non-Cerberus input into a human-centric mission. However, since the dossiers were collected, there was a strange familial connection that had formed between each specialist. It was odd that it would take the rescue of an entire crew in order to remind the Special Task force that Shepard was indeed in charge, and although the Illusive Man may have funded the mission, their loyalty to Shepard superseded his authority.

He mused. Shepard had already taken steps to make the Normandy independent of the Illusive Man's payroll. He watched as she picked up funding from various organizations and private industries, scouring the galaxy to complete private contracts and bounties independent of Cerberus interests. Garrus assumed that was why even Miranda, the token 'Cerberus Lapdog', was now working for Shepard - she no longer had to rely on the Illusive Man's protection and money. Shepard was very close to completely stripping the Normandy's dependence on Cerberus funds. With the rachni, krogan, quarians, and geth backing up her mission, what use was Cerberus's corrupt intel? At least, those were the thoughts that occupied Garrus's mind - providing Shepard would survive the Omega-4 Relay mission. There were no guarantees she would.

"She should be here now. We are scheduled to start in half an hour," Miranda stated out loud, breaking the tense small talk that helped disguise everyone's fears.

Tali'Zorah pressed her hands into the table's surface, her thick quarian dialect buzzing the air, "I have worked with Shepard longer than you and even I am forced to agree. I've never seen her spend so much time in her room. Usually when she sleeps or prepares, it is at the ship's helm. She avoids her private quarters unless absolutely necessary."

"Something we have in common," Garrus admitted, stepping away from the conference table as he acknowledged the crew's concerns.

"Shall I call on her?" EDI asked in monotone.

"No," The turian walked towards the exit, rolling his shoulders. "She hates indirect interruptions. It exhibits cowardice. I will go to her loft."

"That is a good idea," Kasumi answered. Garrus watched the thief in the corner of his eye, detecting a sly smile crossing her lips. He shook his head, choosing not to correct her assertions as he stepped outside the conference room.

"Hey Garrus," Joker yelled out from the pilot controls, his voice carrying over the empty bridge, "If you go upstairs, how about you like... NOT fight Shepard again? Or better yet, make sure she comes back as a human and NOT a turian. Face tattoos are one thing, turian sparring another, but I swear... every time you two spend time together, she comes back less human than before. And its getting confusing and stuff."

Vakarian rolled his eyes. He enjoyed rolling his eyes. The human language cue was satisfying, especially when responding to Joker's smart assery. "Sure. As long as you and EDI don't end up with mutant synthetic babies by the time I drag Shepard down here."

"That would be a burn, Jeff," EDI mused.

"Its an entirely platonic non-romantic mutually beneficial partnership we have going on!" Joker growled. "God... no offense, but as if I'd be able to fall in love with a holographic eyeball that talks..."

"None taken, Jeff. I also find your fleshy, organic matter highly unattractive. And, may I remind you, the holograph is merely an extension of myself. If I were to have an appearance, it would be the Normandy... I am the Normandy."

"Right," Jeff muttered. "Because making sweet sweet love to a ship is on my list of priorities right now."

"You said as much prior to releasing my security controls, if I do recall. And, you do have a fascination with spacecraft bordering on obsessi-"

Garrus immediately departed from the conversation, his eyes widened as he hit the elevator button. Spirits, ever since the crew's disappearance, those two had become stranger and stranger. He much preferred it when EDI and Joker were at odds. Working together, though...? Working together, those two had become a disturbingly close, and their combined pranks were beginning to grate his head.

Once inside the elevator, Vakarian pressed his back up into the wall and closed his eyes. Hundreds of years of advanced technology, and it still took longer to go up one floor on a damn elevator than it did to jump systems via the Omega relays. He flexed his wrists and cracked the joints in his neck, purring with satisfaction as the noise played staccato to the mechanical drum of the lift. He really didn't know what to expect. Shepard never invited him to her quarters, mostly because she was never there. She preferred to shower with the crew, sleep in the conference room, and work in a public atmosphere. He never understood this side of her, considering how private Shepard was, but assumed it was to keep an eye on a ship she was constantly suspicious of.

When the door opened into the private loft, his first reaction was a to rattle his teeth plates, admiring the space. Empty tanks of water decorated the side of the wall with an eerie blue glow. His eyes drifted from the untouched bed that had collected dust to the insane assortment of ship models framed over her desk. One of the models had been taken apart, it looked like the Destiny's Ascension, markings over the surface measuring distance from the command unit to the airlock. What was she planning...?

"What are you doing here?"

He turned abruptly, facing the private bathroom where an unfamiliar woman stood, grey eyes fixed on him aggressively.

She was dressed in a fashion unfamiliar to Garrus. Fishnet material clung to bare legs, a short denim skirt strapped with a utilitarian belt that had several knives hitched under the leather. Instead of a shirt, she wore a tight, black top - buckles and zippers giving the appearance of an asari commando unit's upper uniform. Her lips were a deep red, and she wore enough eyeliner that would turn Jack green with envy. Were it not for the customary turian tattoos that graced her face, Garrus would not recognize this person as Commander Jane Foucault Shepard.

"Do humans typically apply makeup before suicide missions?" Garrus mused out loud, tilting his head as he observed her.

"No. But the ritual reminds me who I am, where I came from, and the people I once stood for," Shepard replied smoothly, word for word repeating the conversation they shared days ago when he first painted her face.

Shepard adjusted her belt loop, an intimidating gaze fixed on Garrus, locking eyes as she remained emotionless. "When we went to the Citadel, Anderson gave me all of the possessions I left to him when I joined the Alliance. I thought he threw them away. Guess he knew one day I'd need them for sentimental purposes. Maybe the last chance I get to wear this crap. Wanted to remember what life was like before all this."

The commander turned to regard her appearance in the bathroom's mirror, raising her brow and watching her features steadily. She shifted her weight from right to left, pulling one of the knives from her belt, metal flashing as it reflected the overhead lights, "I'm earthborn. This used to be my armor."

"Ah," Garrus nodded, understanding only a little. Why was Shepard suddenly being so... open?

Foucault punched the air, her knife flashing briefly as it spun between her fingers, pushing the edge than the blunt in different directions as she spoke. "I was a slave. Surviving is an easy way to climb up the business ladder when the alternative is death. Moved from gang to gang, some smaller, others larger... Triad and Yakuza related. Whenever they needed someone knocked out, I was the first one they called."

The woman made a motion to her clothes, one hand picking at the fishnet strapped to her legs. "This is how I used to dress, people usually don't suspect a sixteen year old brat in fishnet is about to kill them. It was also off putting. Did you know I dyed my hair blue, too?"

Vakarian shook his head, pressing his hip into the door frame as he politely listened.

"Dyed my hair all kinds of colors, actually," Foucault nodded, pulling out a butterfly knife and experimenting with tricks as she turned it between her fingers. "I taught myself how to read, I relished philosophy and history first and foremost. My friends were Rousseau, Voltaire, Ayn Rand, Nietzsche, and Michel Foucault. They gave me advice, warmed my loneliness, taught me that I wasn't going to be the same person tomorrow, that I was only who I was - a cold killer - for the present. People change. People are never the same person they are at any given moment. We are defined by the people that surround us. An upper class jackass might consider me a common thug... whereas a gang leader would consider me a valuable asset. I am a million different people. I am never simply one person. Hence, why I changed my hair constantly. Its also how I kept telling myself that what I did, killing people for gang politics, was forgivable."

Garrus blinked. A million different people? He couldn't help but wonder. Who was Shepard to him? And was this Shepard different compared to, oh say, the Shepard the alliance knows? Kaidan knows? Ashley knew?

She tossed the knife in the air and caught it by the hilt, flipping it closed and pocketing it, her gaze still fixed on the strange reflection. "You know... I met Anderson because I was assigned to assassinate him? He caught me. Only person who ever caught me. Broke my wrist, threw me on the ground. I told him he should just shoot me. If he wasn't going to, the Yakuza certainly would. He gave me a choice. He could throw me in jail, or I could enlist. Now, mind you, I can escape jail. I've done it before. I work in stealth. That would have been easy. But I still had my gang to worry about. They would kill me. Weakness is not tolerated. So... I joined the Alliance."

"He let you join... after you attempted to kill him?" Vakarian inquired in disbelief.

"There's more to it than that," Shepard mutters. "But the end result remains the same. He put me in the alliance."

Shepard ran her fingers through her hair, turning to regard Garrus fully as she continued her biography, "First thing I did was shave off my hair. It is relatively easy to disconnect with the past. I changed my name, too. At first it was Jane Doe just to be a smart ass, but Anderson said I shouldn't insult the last avenue willing to help me. So I was just Jane. My last name, Shepard...? That didn't come until after Torfan."

Garrus said very little beyond a gentle nod or a soft rattle that vibrated his chest. How many people knew this history? Probably the Shadow Broker. Perhaps the Illusive Man. Certainly Anderson. This confession was a rare glimpse into the mind of Commander Shepard. Jane was an enigma. Her credentials were one thing. The mind behind those credentials? Another entirely.

And she was revealing herself.

"Jane, why are you telling me this?" Vakarian had to ask, shifting his mandibles in mixed curiosity and dread.

Shepard grumbled incoherently, and simply ignored the question. The woman moved past Garrus and into her bedroom. She paused at the fish tank and sighed, pressing her forehead into the cool glass as her voice dropped.

"Torfan... was hard. The Batarian unit was entirely ruthless. They treat humans like fodder. No matter what the Alliance did, they couldn't quell the threat. So Anderson, knowing what I was capable of, called upon me to lead a special forces unit into the heart of Torfan. He made sure that my men and women had no family, no one to mourn them. He knew I probably wouldn't come out alive. It was, essentially, a suicide mission. My first of many, really. This could be my last, I guess. I don't see how the odds will be in our favor."

She paused then pulled away from the tank, fingers unbuckling the various straps and buttons that adorned the black leather top. Garrus watched with mixed curiosity and fascination as Shepard stripped off her clothing, revealing pale flesh decorated by the eerie glow of cybernetic scar tissue. Physically, humans are not attractive to turians. They lacked small waists, head fringes, or skin tones universally valued by his species, even between the subdivisions of turian culture. Garrus was no different.

He calmly observed Shepard as she threw off her boots, fishnet stockings, and small skirt. "Batarians do not exhibit respect and fear unless that species is absolutely ruthless, that is what the turian hierarchy suggests," Garrus added.

"It's true. If Batarians fear you, they leave you alone. In order to create fear, you need a reputation. A namesake. Something that can be a target for those fears. So I became the Butcher of Torfan."

The human turned, watching Garrus dangerously as he stepped towards the fish tank, mandibles relaxed and body exhibiting an aire of calm natural to his disposition. She stood there, completely naked, perhaps testing the stoic turian's reaction. Then, he realized why she stripped in front of him. His eyes widened, as they considered new tattoos that graced her body, typically hidden under the plates of her armor or colonial suit.

For some selfish reason, Vakarian assumed his face paint was the only tattoos Jack had inked on Shepard. This wasn't true.

He evaluated the elaborate purple sleeve inked around her arm, swirled lavender patterns reminding him of Tali's head dress. Over her right breast was the tribal etching of Clan Urdnot, four scratches emulating Wrex's scar over the center of the mark. On her wrist existed Liara T'Soni's signature. There were other marks along her lower back he didn't quite recognize, but assumed they may have had to do with Drell prayers. A small symbol of the Asari goddess bridged between her shoulder blades. Wrapped around her other wrist were the tattoos of dog tags, probably the late Ashley Williams. A massive thresher maw curved over her belly, looping around her breasts, open mouth snarling below her neck. There were more, the ink a decorating quilt of the many connections between her and others. Garrus looked at Shepard with new eyes, his expression softening as he watched her.

Sure. Garrus knew Shepard. But he only knew the Shepard that she allowed him to see.

Just who was Shepard to all these other people?

Who was Tali's Shepard? Was she as cold and calculative as the woman Garrus knew? How did Wrex see her? As a fellow clan member, honorary, or a traitor waiting to happen? Or Liara? Was Liara's Shepard just as flawed and impersonal as this woman was?

Just who was Shepard...? Who was the Shepard that Garrus knew?

"I sent good men and women to their deaths for this... psychological attack on the Batarians," Shepard sighed, pulling out her white N7 custom outfitted chest plate from her personal armory case. "I had to kill them. They knew this and still trusted me. All in the name of duty. It worked, you know... The batarians pulled out. Our slave labor isn't worth the risk of total annihilation However, they leaked what I had done to Earth's media, a tactic that they hoped would force me to resign."

The Commander puffed her cheeks unconsciously in frustration, shifting her head back. " Earth called me 'The bloody shepherd, guiding her flocks to their deaths'... 'Alliance shepherd treats crew like lambs to the slaughter'... I had become the Bloody Shepherdess, ruthless. I owned up to it. Fine. If you want to call me a shepherd, than I will be Jane Shepard. Anderson defended me, and I kept the name."

Jane slipped a sports bra on, then spandex shorts, effectively covering and supporting her figure, applying a fabric cream over her naked flesh to prevent her armor from chaffing. "And now, Garrus? Now it's happening again. Even the Illusive Man admitted the reason he brought me back to life was because the reapers fear me. I do not deny I take pleasure in this great challenge, but I do not know if I will survive this. Few wish to see that happen, and many would rather I die. I'm a terrible human, Garrus. I lack their compassion. I would watch whole races burn just for the pleasure of reapers falling, no one wants to support a psychopath like that."

A psychopath... Did she really think she was a psychopath? Is that really how she saw herself, really believed in?

Garrus knew better.

"I'll do it."

Shepard gazed in slight disorientation at these words, eyes widening as she assessed the turian in front of her. He watched her seriously, head lifted and hand pressed over his armor, where it rested against the N7 tattoo inked proudly between his breast plates. "Shepard, you are the only friend I've got left in this damn galaxy. I know what its like to be labeled, appreciated, and depreciated. To become someone else for the sake of survival. Don't do this alone, I will help you."

The woman pushed her weight back and turned her head, emitting a soft growl from her vocals. Garrus, in return, flexed his mandibles and exposed his teeth, trading her turian smile with his human one. "So Archangel wants to team up with Jane Shepard, butcher of Torfan, the bloody shepardess..."

The turian shrugged, maintaining his strange smile. "Well.. You are my partner."

Foucault suddenly laughed, the sound alien to his ears. He blinked, watching as she turned slightly red in the face with a hand over her mouth. She chuckled into her palm, the human's mascara running over the blue tattoos on her cheeks. There were tears her eyes. Deftly, she flicked them away, still smiling in her human way as she pressed both hands on his shoulders and regarded him warmly.

"Throw ourselves into the fire for the good of the galaxy? Its nice knowing someone will have my back this time. However, let me warn you, the only time you'll ever die on me is if I shoot you myself. Do you hear me?"

Garrus chortled, pushing his weight forward onto his toes as he gazed at her sidelong. "Likewise, if it comes to that."

Shepard gently punched him in the chest, grinning like an asari maiden as she pulled on the black breathing fabric over her figure, the tight netting shrinking to her skin and exposing the full mold of her muscles. "I see the crew sent you up here to drag me down to the meeting room, screaming and shouting. Go back and tell them I'm on my way, and if they have an issue with how I spend my time, they can take it up with me themselves."

Vakarian smiled, collecting Shepard's chest plate and offering it. She grabbed it, though Garrus didn't let go, staying her motion until her confused gaze matched his level one.

"If it is alright with you, Commander, I think I'd rather stay here and enjoy your company before we 'throw ourselves into the fire for the good of the galaxy'."

The woman nodded, matching his grin with a turian expression where she puffed her cheeks twice in rhythmic succession, taking her armor and clipping it onto her figure, "Very well, you can stay. I shouldn't be long."

Garrus nodded, leaning into the wall and crossing both arms across his chest as he mildly observed her, "So... Why is it that only human females and smaller sections of your male population choose to wear makeup? Do you humans really have such difficulty telling apart one another's genders and sexual preferences, that you need to temporarily mark it? Wouldn't it be easier to get tattoos?"

Shepard guffawed out loud, the rare noise of her laughter causing him to grin as he shifted his weight and quietly observed her, reading her expressions, her motions, this new level to her humanity. For as long as she was alive, Vakarian promised himself he would be her personal guardian angel. He would protect her secrets and her life under his shadow, as long as she would accept him. And as she spoke, the tattoos across her face shifting in ways similar to other turians, he admired her despite the distance between them.

There had been an ocean of broken spirits between them, and over the years, in that moment, Garrus knew he had finally mended the damage and created a bridge with a friend who was just as lonely and hurt as he was. Apart, they were weak. Together, they would be strong.

At least. That was Garrus's Shepard. Flawed as she might be, stranger that she was. She was still his partner.

- F I N .

Author's Notes ::

Alright, finished editing. Only a month and some change until ME3 comes out.

So I'm going to bide my time by writing more about this Shepard. She's a classy act.

:: Older Comments ::

Faunts
Love the Doves. Whenever I listen to Kingdom of Rust, I always imagine two characters on a great journey who feel the need to keep their emotional walls up due to trust issues. But deep down inside, they really want to break those walls.

Llucy
I appreciate your support! I wish there were more Renegade Shep fics out there, romantic included. I get all excited about the idea of a tough-as-nails harsh bitch whose walls slowly get niched away by warmer and willing characters.

Drizzit101
Why thank you, and your support makes this story all the more worth writing :)

WastedHeart
I appreciate this comment a lot. I love to read a lot of classic literature, particularly Dickens and the Bronte sisters. I also have a library of victorian & contemporary philosophers. Story telling through layers of analogy is incredibly fun. I probably have lost a lot of readers for this reason since its a pretty outdated system of writing, but I get stoked when there's that one person who PMs me saying 'You totally pulled that quote from Nietzsche. Nice.'

Michole
Thank you very much. What goes unsaid in this fic, since it is written in the perspective of Garrus, is the bond Shepard has with the rest of the crew. While it isn't nearly as complex and nuanced as Garrus, there are moments Shepard has shared with the others that has gone unsaid since she is a very private person. I plan to explore Tali's perspective soon.

Ryoko Metallium
Pretty damn sexy, right? That scene and the Headlock scene were probably my favorites to write.

Candle in the Light
I PM'd you before, but I'll write here as well. This was perhaps one of the best comments I've ever received since writing here at , and that isn't said lightly (I've been here for ten years). There are a lot of really good Fem Shep fics out there, you just have to do some digging and peel through Favorite Stories that some good authors have pleasantly listed in their profile pages. Foucault's character is complex, and I imagine it may go hand in hand with the question of : 'Just WHY does a Renegade Shepard act so freaking ruthlessly?' I personally have a preference for neutral + renegade shep fics simply because I have seen a lot of authors tackle this question thoughtfully. Not at all speaking against Paragon Shepards, I find some of their stories just as fascinating and dark. I guess I'm not a fluff kind of girl. I'm a big fan of dark psychology and darker subplots.

BlueIrish
I am SO glad you stuck through. I've lost a lot of readers simply because my Shepard is so harsh and hard to swallow, which in many ways goes against the way many people prefer to treat their own Shepards. We commonly seek out fic where we can 'place' our own Shepard into the fic. Kingdom of Rust almost makes this completely impossible, since Renegade!Fem is so rare in the fanbase. I know I've also stopped reading a lot of Paragon Shep fics for this very reason, because they don't match my darker sensibilities. But I really am glad you stuck through. You and other Paragon Shep readers make this worth it. Now go - Make a Renegade Shepard and play the full scope of the game! If you keep doing it with the mindset of '... This action is harsh, BUT the reason my Shepard is being ruthless is because her intentions are actually for the greater good...' it really does make the game that much more funny and complex.

Bluesnyder
So are you going to create a Renegade character now... Hnnnnnnn? ;) Thank you, and I do appreciate this comment! Its true. Mass Effect's groundwork is SO open for interpretation. That's the brilliance of Bioware's writing.

skywalker05
Puffing her cheek is akin to flexing a mandible. I figured since Shepard has been spending so much time with aliens (and preferring their company), its beginning to change the way she uses body language. I know that when I was working at a Korean restaurant, I noticed I started to adapt a lot of Korean customary language and habits within a few months. The same could be said of any culture.

ZaeraDourden
I give Miranda a lot of shit, mostly because I'm not a big fan of how Bioware niched her down to plain fanservice (Everytime you get an ass shot from Miranda, take a drink! You'll get drunk within a few minutes). But she's a good character, good head on her shoulder. Though I disagree with a lot of her decisions.

Heart of the Revolution
I understand the appeal of Paragon Shepard. My first playthrough was with Rousseau Shepard, a paragon through and through. But after watching a few youtube videos of Renegade Shepard, I realized that while she was pretty damn hardcore and a tough bullet to bite, ultimately her decisions were not completely evil. She does good, but with a different perspective. Working with the alien races has its merits, but the council itself comes across as far more racist (Look what they did to the quarians and the krogans) than humanity ever has. For a group that claims humanity is incredibly xenophobic, the council is pretty damn xenophobic themselves.

Fallenleeves
I love Ghost in the Shell, and I can see where Bioware borrowed many elements from the sci fi classic. A special espionage unit out to maintain galactic order? Hnnn...

MitisVenatrix
Indeed. I feel that the relationship Bioware gave us between Garrus & Shepard (Hell... Between ANY of the Romantic Interests, with exception of Liara, Kaiden, and Ashley) felt like a rushed one night stand. It was achieving sex for the sake of a cute cutscene. I hope ME3 tries something different, and returns to the universe's roots.

Sensoo
I've ALWAYS been a HUGE fan of partnerships transcending sexual relationships. The tension and 'What if..?' leaves a lot to the imagination. It also makes it all the more exciting when two characters actually do exhibit subtle feelings towards one another, or have to sacrifice their happiness for the greater whole. There is something heartbreaking about it.

:: More Recent Comments ::

Jack Fletch
I imagine she wouldn't have time to read in the special forces! Its why most of her reading took place before she was recruited. Though I suppose that wasn't very clear in the writing.

Bagira Shadow
Corrected!

Kasanra
It was an idea I pulled from another author. Over time, I've come to dislike 'humanizing' aliens. What makes aliens interesting is that they are... well... aliens. I always liked the idea of a human turning more alien, as opposed to an alien becoming more human.

HarbingerKismet
My first playthrough was a paragon. Because I felt so bad punching people and being mean. But after getting comfortable, my canon Shepard will always be a renegade. Her lines are too damn funny to pass up! And yes, this Fic Shepard is very, very, very flawed. But I've found, good qualities often shine when you have nasty ones to compare them to.

Zhar of Shadows
Gotta love Garrus. As for Shep, well... she's just a weirdo.

Vertin
Thank you! Its fun to explore how much two characters AREN'T romantic, especially when there are so many romantic fics out there.

Shukumei-of-another-world
Thank you very much!

LeoPenth67
I went through and edited the fic. I tried correcting some of the issues. Its difficult, to be sure. And I love Miranda. Hated her my first playthrough. But I've come to really love that woman. She's very complex, and very lonely. And yes. The crew does interact with Shepard, in ways Garrus may never understand. Hell. They might see her in a light completely different than Garrus does. Tali may see her as this heroic paragon of justice who could do no wrong, while Garrus sees her as a vulnerable person with a diamond hard exterior. All in the eye of the beholder.

Phew...

Thank you, and I look forward to writing more stories with Jane 'Foucault' Shepard. Keep your eyes open.