This is more rogue than true renegade. Enjoy.

Music: Sober, Tool

I will only complicate you.
Trust in me and fall as well.
I will find a center in you.
I will chew it up and leave,
I will work to elevate you
Just enough to bring you down.

**For the complete playlist to both stories set up on Grooveshark, please check my profile.**

Bioware owns these characters.

On board the Normandy, docked at Omega

Shepard was bored out of her mind. How long had it been? Three days? Eight meals, so that made sense. She sat in the dark corner of the cot, chewing on her lower lip and counting the seconds.

They kept the crew from her and had her stowed in a storage room, of all places. She had run out of things to entertain herself with already. She worked out every few hours, doing pull-ups on the narrow grip above her and getting creative with the other furniture in the room: crunches off of the cot, some gymnastic moves from a few crates and a shelving unit on the far wall, empty but for her change of clothes. The only time she got out of the cuffs was when she showered.

Her ears pricked; there were voices outside her door. She recognized Anderson's and another, a deep voice that wasn't one of the guards. Feeling pathetic, she looked forward to whatever distraction Anderson had seen fit to bring her. Would it be more MPs? Maybe a Council member to chew out? No, she had promised to be good. Anything to get out of this cell.

The door opened and a soldier walked in that she had never seen before. Her eyebrows lifted and she heard herself say "Mmm-hmm" deep in her throat.

He was several inches taller than her and built like a brick shithouse. If there was an ounce of fat on him, she couldn't see it – and she could see quite a bit, from the way his uniform fit. He was several years her junior; naïve, probably, as most men tended to be until they were much older. Not really her type, when it came down to it. She preferred men who were aged to perfection, with lots of smoothed-over scars.

Like Zaeed. Now, he had been a nice little distraction. He had known how to walk away when things were still friendly, too, a quality she admired greatly.

She noted the black tattoos that started just below the soldier's ear, flowing under his shirt and peeking from around his elbow. He had probably been really good-looking before those scars had made it across his face, but that was just the way she liked it. As if he couldn't get any more appealing, he'd obviously just been in a fight and blood was running down his forehead. Aside from his obvious youth, she wholeheartedly approved.

Good old Anderson. How had he guessed what she wanted? And her birthday wasn't for months.

All this passed in a few moments while he walked into the room and looked around. Just as quickly, she realized that if she decided to pass her time with him the way she wanted to while she was incarcerated, he'd quickly get re-assigned. And just like that, her good mood evaporated.

His searching eyes finally spotted her figure lounging on the cot. "Commander Shepard?" Astonishment colored his voice. He had literally just seen that face on the vidcom back in the bar – right before he'd ripped it off the wall so he could beat a batarian half to death with it.

Anderson walked in behind him. "Shepard, this is Lieutenant James Vega. He'll be your guard from now on." He nodded toward the bleeding man. "You should know that we're headed for Earth. The politicians are demanding a tribunal."

"Oh, come on." She rolled her eyes and breathed out a deep sigh. "How long is this going to take? The Reapers are still coming, you know. I've lost enough time already being dead." Her casual reference made Vega look at her in surprise.

Anderson shook his head. "I don't know. I've resigned my position as Councillor so that I can help represent you, Shepard. We'll figure this out, I promise."

She smiled at him. "Thanks, David. I appreciate that. How long till we get there?"

"Not long. We're leaving shortly. I'll keep you posted." With that, he walked out of the room.

The two soldiers eyed each other speculatively.

Shepard spoke first. "Looks like you were having some fun before you got stuck with this job. Sorry about that."

"No sweat. There'll be more later. There always is." He moved to sit on the crate across from her.

"Got that right. Just hope I won't be cuffed to a drainpipe when the Reapers come knocking. Fucking civvies don't know their asses from their elbows when it comes to war. A tribunal, of all things." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Hey, guard duty doesn't sound like fun to me either, you know. Although," he leaned back and scanned her from head to toe. "I always did want to meet you."

She sat forward, lifting an eyebrow. "Did you, now? Want an autograph, maybe? If you have a marker, I could sign somewhere special." She eyed him up.

So it was like that, was it? This might be more entertaining than he had initially imagined. "That's an interesting thought. What would you write?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe something like: 'I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite part of imprisonment.'" She smiled back at him. "Can you think of somewhere that might… ah… fit?"

He grinned, but his retort was drowned out when the Mass Relay klaxon went off. They were on their way to Earth.

Earth

"This is a prison?" James was impressed. Shepard's quarters were on the penthouse level of a posh highrise with a stunning view of the city skyline.

Shepard walked in beside him, scanning the room once and shaking her head. "This is Anderson's doing." He was doing his best to make sure she was happy in this impossible situation, giving her a macho soldier boy for company, plus a comfy room. She'd rather have stayed on Luna or a space station, of course. She got groundsickness when she was planetside too long, what with the stable gravity and variety of spores and so forth. Plus the food... she'd rather have a ration bar any day; at least they didn't give her gas like the rich stuff they ate down here. As it went, though, this wasn't too bad.

"It's good to have friends," James continued. He had to share a room with five other guys in the barracks. At least he would get to spend his days here. As non-combat postings go, this wasn't a bad situation at all.

"I'd rather not spend a single night here if I could get away with it." She missed her ship already.

He looked over to her curiously. She dropped her rucksack on the couch and walked to the bedroom, ducking her head in and back out again. She walked over to the window and looked out. She seemed completely different now than his first impression of her just a few days ago. She was quiet, not joking around at all. Maybe it was finally sinking in.

It was. Seeing the sun shining over the modern human architecture was incredibly depressing. She wanted the stark lines of her sleek ship, the limited view from the portholes. She felt horribly exposed with the enormous window staring her down. In combat, she didn't have time to think about it.

After a few moments of introspective silence, he decided that maybe she was ready for some real conversation. "So how exactly did you get in this position?"

She was just sitting down on the couch with a sigh, stretching out her legs. "You know the story, Vega. I blew up a relay keeping the Reapers from coming through, and the explosion killed a bunch of Batarian colonists. A lot of them." She sighed and rubbed her face while Vega sat down in the chair across from her. "I feel bad about that every day, and not just because it blew up in my face." She looked up at him grimly. "No pun intended."

He bobbed his head in understanding. "Yeah, I knew about that. What I mean is, how did you get to be in this position at all - commander of the Normandy, Spectre, in all of the biggest battles and hardest fights?"

She studied him for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

He leaned forward in the chair. "I've been on the front lines, but I never got to be in the thick of it like you were. I made it all the way through N5 training, too."

She smiled and nodded in understanding. "You want in on the real action, is that it, Vega?"

"Hell, yeah. But it seems like I'm always trailing behind whatever you're doing." More than she realized.

She sat up, squinting at the sunlight coming in from the window behind him. "We all have to do our time, Vega. You've seen plenty of action, I'm sure. And you've made a difference in your time. This is the time for people like us. There will always be a fight on the horizon." She shook her head. "Or right in our laps."

He liked the way she thought about it, that this was their time, but he had been dealt a different hand. Her missions always seemed to succeed; his had... not. "I've heard about your missions third-hand. You've got some real cojones, taking on Saren and the rest." He left the statement hanging, hoping she'd jump in. She didn't, just sat there looking at him. He went on. "I would have gone too if I'd had a choice."

"Would you now." Her face was completely expressionless.

"That's what I signed up for. You don't go through that training for backwater missions. I want the biggest battles, the toughest enemies. I don't do things halfway."

She suddenly understood quite a bit about James Vega, from his appearance to his attitude. It took a lot of work and dedication to be everything he was. He was neither idle nor undecided. It increased her respect for him, but it also increased her wariness of him.
He noticed her searching look and smiled. "I hope you play poker," he said, realizing it was time to change the subject.

"I've been known to, from time to time." She returned the smile. Vega would be entertaining to have around, for sure. At least she could look forward to getting to know him.

"Get the hell out of here, Joker!" The Normandy SR-1 shook violently as huge sections of the hull sheared off into space. Inside the relative protection of the kinetic field around the cockpit, fires were still burning.

"No, I can save her! Shit – they're coming around for another pass!" Joker's hands raced over the controls, trying to save enough of the ship to do something. Anything.

Shepard had known he loved the ship, but he wasn't the commander. It was her duty to go down with the ship if that was called for. "She's already gone! I didn't come out here to hang my ass in a solar wind while you try to play hero! If you think-" An enormous explosion rocked the deck, and Shepard turned to see the Collector's powerful cannon lasing another path through what was left of her ship.

The force of the explosion rebounded and sent her flying through the kinetic barrier. "Commander!" She heard Joker cry, but it was too late. She careened through what was once the CIC, ricocheting off of floating debris until she was completely spaced.

Her breath came quickly as she saw her ship falling away from her. It looked like an enormous husk had clawed through it, leaving fiery trails in its wake. Distortions marked where parts of the ship were imploding or exploding, but no sound reached her in the vacuum of space. It was total silence, all but the frantic in and out of her breath, coming more and more difficult…

Her crew... how many of her friends had died?

A pressure at her back made her realize something was wrong. Her suit had a leak, the air streaming out, sending her flying on a new trajectory like a bullet across the thermosphere of Alchera. She twisted around so that the air would push her to skip off, not burn up on entry, but even as she did so she knew it was too late. Now that she was turned around, she could see that the Collector ship was still attacking. Her air would be long gone before they were.

No chance of rescue. No chance for payback.

No, she thought, furious determination coloring her final thought as her sight of the Collector vessel went dark. It won't end like this, you fuckers. You haven't seen the last of me.

Shepard sat straight up in bed, eyes wide. The dawning sun filling her eyes from outside the large window gave her a moment of vertigo. She didn't like the feeling of exposure, the feeling intensified by her nightmare.

The memory was still incredibly vivid. The pain which had preceded unconsciousness, her body contorting and quickly freezing, had blessedly not made it into the dream, but she was remembering it now. She shivered.

There was a knock on her door. It must be time for James to report in. She pulled herself to the edge of the bed painfully, pulling down the hem of her long t-shirt so it covered her upper thighs. She wasn't used to sleeping in a bed this soft, and her back was hurting. She called out permission to enter as she stood up, flipping the covers of her bed back and walking to the bathroom.

James walked in as she made her way through the room, staring as she walked past the glass wall with miles of leg showing. "Good morning," he said. She grunted in reply, shuffling into the bathroom without looking at him.

He had a book in his hand which he set on the coffee table. He had begun bringing her books once he knew the type of stories she liked; murder mysteries, mostly, but only with plenty of action.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the other room, showered and in uniform, her hair tied back in a low bun. He never got tired of seeing her walk toward him with that smile on her face; he just wished he didn't suspect it was because he was the only relief she had to the boredom.

He pointed to the book. "Found this in the used book store down the street."

"Thanks!" she said, taking it and looking at the title. "Oh good, this is the next in the series." Turning back, she settled down on the couch to read. "Make yourself at home," she said idly, waving her hand. "I just want to check out the first chapter."

He sat across from her, watching her read. He had spent most of the morning in the gym like usual, but he was mostly tired from last night. After he had left here, he had gone out with a group from the barracks. Two of the girls had latched onto him, but he just didn't feel it like he used to. He kept wondering what Shepard was doing, how lonely she must be up here with no one to talk to.

There was a little guilt, too, for being able to go out when she had no choice, especially when her imprisonment was so patently unfair. She'd been stuck in here for more than a month now, her only relief when the tribunal wanted her for questioning.

Shepard pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tucked her legs underneath her, smiling at the page. She had originally professed not to like reading, but with the lack of anything else to do she dove right into whatever he brought her.

Finally, she nodded and set the book aside. "Looks good. Thanks, Vega."

"It's no trouble." Aside from how out of the way the store was where he'd finally found the book she wanted, of course. But she didn't need to know that.

"My dad used to bring me books like these when I was little. He liked mysteries too. Mom didn't get it, but then, she was way more career than he was."

"What happened to him?" James asked. "I hear about your mother in the vids."

"Washed out. Couldn't keep out of his subordinate's pants, mostly. But there was some drink involved too."

"Not too different from mine." James said, looking at his hands. "My dad hated the military though. I think that's most of the reason why I joined up. Didn't realize it at the time, but I wanted to set myself apart. You know, do something big with my life. Not stay in the same place, doing the same thing until I'm dead."

She breathed out sharply, almost a laugh. "I hear you. There isn't much I wouldn't do to show him what he missed out on when he left."
Now, that was an interesting piece of information. Not wanting to push her into clamming up again, he changed the subject. "Poker?"

"Not right now." She settled back, then looked up at him again. "I hope this doesn't suck for you too much, sitting here with me all day, every day. I'm not too interesting right now."

"I don't mind." He said. She had no idea how wrong she was. He was fascinated. She rarely spoke about her past, even though he was dying to know about everything she'd done and seen. Plus, she seemed so… normal. Could this person really be a hero for the entire galaxy?
"Is there some way I can get to a gym? I'm going to run a groove in the carpet soon." She asked.

"I'll ask Anderson." He said. He liked the thought of taking her out, even if it was just to the base for a few hours. He tapped out a message on his omni-tool.

Before she had finished reading and eating breakfast, he had a reply. Anderson sent a car to take them to the base.

They walked into the base gym with no fanfare. The guard at the entrance greeted Vega by first name, shaking his hand before buzzing them in. Shepard made her way to the locker room and changed into shorts and a workout top before coming back out and looking around. "What first?" she asked Vega, who was waiting nearby.

"Up to you." He gestured to the room.

She started with a few laps around the track, relieved at being able to really stretch her legs. Vega stood by and just watched. Another regular at the gym walked up, taking a slug from his water bottle and wiping the sweat off his face.

"What's up , Vega? Why aren't you working out?"

"I'm on duty right now." He said, not looking away from his charge's running figure.

"Who's that?"

"Commander Shepard."

The other soldier looked with interest. "That's her?" James nodded.

She came off the track and jogged over to Vega, breathing quickly. "You think someone would spar with me?" She said, stretching her legs.
The other soldier's eyes lit up. "Hell, yeah! Let's go."

Vega almost objected, but they were already off, making for the ring on the far side of the gym. He followed behind, getting there just as Shepard was finishing taping her knuckles. She popped a mouthguard in and leaped energetically over the ropes.

"You sure about this?" Vega asked, leaning on the corner piling.

She rolled her eyes. "Chill out, Mom. I won't hurt him too bad." She grinned around the piece in her mouth as the challenging statement reached her sparring partner, just climbing in.

He nodded, shaking out his arms and assuming a boxing stance. "Oh, really? You better back that up, lady."

She laughed, copying his stance. "Get real, kid. Don't you know who I am?"

Vega leaned forward with interest as they approached one another. This was a far cry from the clinically bored person he'd come to expect. Perhaps this explained it, though.

Her opponent approached and took a lightning-quick swing, which she easily evaded, hopping back on her bare feet. She had a huge grin on her face as she dodged his next few kicks and punches. He swung up with his left fist, leaning to the right, and she grabbed his arm, doubling it back on himself as she kneed him in the sternum before flipping him over. He lay there, dazed for a moment, looking at the ceiling.

"Come on, kid. You can do better than that. Stop trying not to hurt me. I can take it." She taunted from a few feet away, pounding her chest with her fist.

He leaped back up, a serious expression on his face. She nodded. "Now we're talking."

Vega spoke up. "I can't take you back black and blue, Commander. Why don't you just-"

"If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it. Quit pussying up and let me have some fun," she said, locking eyes with her opponent and moving forward.

He waited for her to make the first move this time, dancing around on his feet. She shadowed a right hook, kicking him in the ribs when he fell for her feint. "Come on, kid," she said again. "Show me what you've got. I've fought husks who had more strategy than you."

He growled and stepped back before mimicking her last move, feinting and kicking with the other foot. She ducked and grabbed his foot, pulling and twisting. Next thing he knew, he was on his back again.

A small crowd had gathered as word spread that Commander Shepard was in the ring. When she dropped her partner for the third time, another man, larger, asked to spar her next. She agreed readily, just getting into her groove.

This one landed her a hit in the gut that took her breath away, and she laughed as she stepped back. "That's what I'm talking about! Let's go!" She leaped back into the fight with even more power, cutting his cheek with her fist and kicking him in the knee to drop him before using a left hook to almost lay him out.

He eventually crawled out of the ring, but she was more hyped than ever. She was feeling her muse in force, missing the field and the excitement of battle intensely.

"Anyone else?" she asked, arms wide. "There's gotta be one person here who can give and receive."

Someone spoke up. "Vega, you go in there. Show her what you can do, buddy!"

Vega was shaking his head, saying he was on duty. Shepard walked over to him, taking out the mouth guard. She was sweaty, happier than he'd ever seen her, leaning on the piling toward him.

"Oh, you know you want to." She said, drawing out the word. "You never really know someone until you fight them."

She couldn't have said anything that could have tempted him more. The others cheered while he ducked under the ropes, kicking off his boots and taking his shirt off. Someone handed him a fresh mouth guard and he turned around.

She was eyeing him frankly, a huge crooked grin on her face. "Let's go, big guy," she said, popping the guard back in her mouth and hopping from one foot to the left. She'd obviously had some experience kickboxing, but he had a lot of experience in the ring. If nothing else, this would be interesting.

She came out of her stance to feint to the left, her knee extended, darting back when he responded. She was testing his reflexes, figuring him out. He stepped in like he was going to swing a right hook, moving his left arm up into position. When she responded to the double feint, he hit her with the right hook as planned.

Her head snapped off to the side, carrying her body with it. Without missing a beat, she used the momentum to land a kick that almost knocked him off his feet.

She landed lightly on her toes, blood coming from her lip. She blinked her eyes to clear them and smiled. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"

"What, are you a pain junkie?" James shouted over the cheering crowd, coming back to center. She was vital, alive; it was like being in the presence of some cosmic event that he couldn't escape.

"You haven't seen anything yet. I get my kicks in all kinds of weird places." She whipped her body down, scissoring her shins to his neck as she flipped over. The move was so totally unexpected that he stumbled to the side. She spun out, knocking him over and flipped back on top of him as he lay there, pushing off the floor with her hand and landing with her elbow to his throat.

She smiled down at his stunned face. "Thanks for not holding back. That's the first time I've felt alive in more than a month."

He'd never been taken down so quickly, but for some reason as he looked up at her, dripping blood and sweat on his face, he found he didn't mind at all.

This is much more difficult than I had anticipated. I hope you are enjoying the results!