A Matter of Trust

Notes: Okay, let me give you the gist of this AU. Shepard is Commander of the Normandy SR-2. The crew is largely the crew of ME3, except that Ashley and Kaidan are both alive and have served together previously. Ashley is serving on the Normandy, has been for years, and Kaidan has just joined the crew. He has never met Commander Shepard before.

There are no reapers in this universe. The Battle of the Citadel was, in fact, an attack planned and coordinated purely by Saren, and Shepard was the hero of the battle, saving the council and the citadel from his Geth army.

In the absence of their leader, the Geth have now retreated back into the Veil.

The rest will become apparent as we go along.

Chapter 1

He was 35 years old. 35, and he hadn't been on a date since he was 22.

Okay, so that wasn't quite true. He had taken that doctor out for a drink on the citadel, two years ago. Tall, skinny man with a beard.

Beards just didn't do it for him.

Actually, nothing about the man had been terribly inspiring in the end, the conversation dull, the man himself unremarkable, those dull hazel-colored eyes, not quite brown, not quite green.

And that awful, awful beard.

He'd only gone to make his friends shut up, to convince them that he wasn't a complete recluse and did, in fact, have a social life.

And, having gone, he had felt free to declare the entire evening a complete waste of time and had never called the guy again. Had returned to duty, the ebb and flow of life aboard a space vehicle. Explore new planet. Check. Polish armor. Check. Clean gun. Check. Eat dreadful, hideous food in the mess. Check. Sleep, wake up, do it all again.

It wasn't a bad life. It was, in fact, a life he had aspired to for years, spending his idle hours as a teenager dreaming of space travel, meeting aliens, high adventure among the stars.

And a part of him still insisted on chasing that dream, pursuing a vision that he no longer really believed in, playing the role of devoted soldier. While another part of him went through the motions, ate the food, snapped the sharp salutes only because he didn't know what else he would do, if he gave this up.

Because a part of him had given up the dream, years ago, when his CO, the man he had admired and trusted and would have followed into hell itself, had betrayed him in the most hideous way…

Kaidan cut the thought off sharply. Dwelling on the past never got you anywhere. Beside, that was all changing today. Or so he kept telling himself, with the part of his brain that still wanted to believe in the dream.

Today, he was joining the crew of the SSV Normandy.

It was a ship of legends, the ship every soldier wanted to serve on. It was the ship that discovered new alien races. Opened new mass relays. Fought Geth on the Citadel.

And Shepard? He'd heard enough rumors about the man to write a book. Hero of the Skyllian Blitz. Saviour of the Citadel. And, if some of the vids were to be believed, a complete and utter lunatic. He had fought rachni, nearly gotten killed by them… and had then unleashed a rachni queen on the galaxy. Go figure…

But he was N7, the Commander of the Normandy, and serving under him would score him serious points on his service record.

Assuming he survived.

After all, things around Shepard had a tendency to… explode. Most recently, he'd accidentally destroyed a 50 000 year old prothean ruin. Caused a volcano to errupt. And shot the human councilor to end a coup attempt on the Citadel.

He'd shot the human councilor.

And people were calling him a hero.

Sometimes, this galaxy was insane.

So now, here he was, standing outside the Normandy, waiting for Shepard to arrive and officially accept him into his crew. Anderson had arranged this, impressed with Kaidan's service during a recent hostage situation – all hostages released unharmed and the aggressors taken into custody. That kind of service required a certain display of gratitude, he had said. Though he had then mentioned that Kaidan might not actually thank him for this. Shepard was… difficult. Brilliant, but difficult.

Kaidan checked the time. Shepard had been due to meet him here half an hour ago. He checked his messages. Nothing. Checked the ship. Yup, the name 'Normandy' was emblazoned on the side. So he was in the right place.

But there was no sign of Shepard. He'd tried to call Anderson, but he was in a council meeting. No doubt trying to figure out who the next human councilor would be. Assuming they didn't get kicked out for that coup attempt…

And so he paced, if only to stretch his legs a little. Stared out the docking bay window at the ships drifting past. Checked the time again.

And then, finally, the elevator opened, and Kaidan snapped back to attention, waiting to meet his new CO, to begin the next phase of his increasingly tedious career…

But holy hell, what stepped out of the elevator was not at all what he had expected. It was Commander Shepard, alright, but the man was a wreck, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, an N7 jacket slung over his shoulder. The t-shirt was torn, with blood stains over the left shoulder, there was soot on Shepard's face, and he was carrying a chuck of metal, a little larger than a football, that looked like it had been fried with a flame thrower and then stomped on by a very large boot.

There was another man with him, his chest thick with muscles, a tattoo creeping up his neck, carrying a chunk of what looked like a computer terminal over his shoulder – charred edges and broken wiring suggesting a violent end to its useful life, and on Shepard's other side was a krogan. He tensed. Krogan, so he'd been told, could be… unpredictable.

They arrived at the airlock, and Kaidan snapped a sharp salute. "Commander Shepard, sir."

The Commander looked him up and down, a frown on his face as if wondering why he was there. Shit, the Commander had been informed of his arrival, hadn't he?

"Major Alenko, sir. I've been assigned to the Normandy."

There was a pause. Then Shepard returned the salute, almost as if he had forgotten that he needed to do so. "At ease, Major."

Kaidan attempted to ignore the Commander's state of dress. Jeans and an N7 jacket were no kind of uniform at all… and was that… grass stains? On his jeans? Where did he find enough grass on the citadel to roll around in it?

The krogan gave him a once over and snorted. "Looks like they've given you another whelp," he said, his voice almost a growl, and Kaidan struggled not to feel self-conscious. "Good luck with that. I need to get back to the squad and make sure they don't set anything else on fire."

"See you, Wrex," Shepard replied. The krogan lumbered off.

But Shepard was still staring at him, the man with the tattoos waiting patiently as if this sort of thing happened every day… who knows, maybe it did… and then Shepard activated his ear piece. "EDI? Do we have a new Major assigned to the Normandy?"

A light, female voice came back at them. "Yes, Commander. Major Alenko was assigned by Admiral Anderson. You have received three messages regarding his arrival. The latest one was marked 'Urgent'."

"Really. I'll have to have a word to Traynor about that. I don't remember seeing any of them."

"I recall Specialist Traynor reminding you about the messages four times in the last forty eight hours, Commander."

"Thank you, EDI," the Commander snapped, shutting off the link, and Kaidan had to wonder what the hell he had gotten himself into. This Eedee, whoever she was, seemed to have a rather liberal view of the chain of command, if she felt she could reprimand the Commander of the ship in such a way.

Shepard looked him over again, and sighed. "Alright, I suppose you'd better come on board then." It wasn't the most enthusiastic welcome ever, but at least he hadn't been told to fuck off. So Kaidan grabbed his bag – his armor and weapons had already been delivered to the Normandy… or at least, he hoped they had, and followed the two men into the ship.

Once the airlock had released them inside, Shepard turned to Kaidan and tossed the chuck of metal he was carrying to him. "Here, give that to EDI. You'll find her in the cockpit. Tell her I want her to find out who hacked the programming. Then come down to the medbay, deck 3."

"Yes, sir." The chuck of metal was, on closer inspection, the damaged head of a LOKI mech, and Kaidan headed for the cockpit.

"Eedee?" he asked, not entirely sure why a pilot would be the one to examine the mech. "The Commander asked me to give you this."

"Hello, Major Alenko." His eyes widened as a mech stood up from the co-pilot's seat and turned to face him. But it was not any kind of mech that he'd seen before, the detail extraordinary, the design most definitely made to imitate a female…

"Even though she's a mech, the eyes are still in the head, buddy," a voice from the pilot's seat said, and Kaidan automatically snapped his gaze up. Eedee was waiting patiently, so he handed her the crushed head.

"Commander Shepard asked that you try to find out who hacked the programming in that thing."

"It would be my pleasure," she said.

And he just had to ask… "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but… what are you?"

The man in the pilot's seat snorted, but the mech didn't look put out at all. "I am an AI, named the Enhanced Defence Intelligence, or EDI" she explained happily. "I was originally this ship's computer, but this mobile platform is a recent addition. I am finding having a mobile body to be very enjoyable."

An AI? In Citadel space? "Okay… well… I have to get down to the medbay. It was nice to meet you."

"Welcome to the circus," the pilot said, in that same droll tone, and Kaidan wondered just what he'd gotten himself into.

Kaidan found his way to deck 3 without any trouble. He'd always considered himself to be adaptable, resourceful… but the sight that greeted him inside the medbay succeeded in rattling him in a way he hadn't been rattled in a very, very long time.

Commander Shepard was sitting on the examination table, shirt off, while a silver-haired doctor stitched up a nasty cut in his shoulder. But it wasn't the cut that rattled him. It was the sight of that very strong, very male, very bare chest… and the sharp blue gaze that was instantly fixed on him. Not that Kaidan hadn't seen unclothed men before, but usually he had braced himself for it, knew it was coming, like when his squad was changing into their armor, or every time he walked into the shower room. And the disquieting mix of fear and desire was one that he had become used to, ignoring both sensations with practiced discipline.

But this time, the rush of desire was stronger, fast and insistent almost before the sight before him had registered.

And then the fear followed in its place, all the more powerful for having arrived late, and all the more potent because this was his CO… and Kaidan felt his heart rate pick up. But he held himself steady, waiting for the Commander to acknowledge him.

"If you'd put medigel on this in the first place, I wouldn't have to be doing this now," the doctor reminded Shepard, as he flinched from one of the stitches.

"I didn't have any," Shepard said, earning a noise of exasperation from the doctor. "What?" he protested. "I was meeting Wrex for lunch. How was I supposed to know I'd need a supply of medigel to go get a sandwich."

The doctor merely gave him a disbelieving look, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, I am not that bad."

"Apparently, you are," the doctor said mildly, then finished the last of the stitches. "There you are, all done. You did at least take your gun with you, didn't you?" she asked, and Shepard pointed to it, strapped to his hip. "Well, that's a relief. You must be Major Alenko," she said, turning to greet Kaidan. "I'm Doctor Chakwas. Welcome to the Normandy."

"Thank you." He breathed a small sigh of relief as Shepard put his shirt back on. "EDI's working on the mech head," he told Shepard.

"I checked your orders," Shepard said, brushing at the soot on his jacket. "Turns out you are supposed to be here after all. So here's where we're at. I just went to meet Wrex – he was the krogan you saw, old friend of mine – for lunch, then suddenly a computer terminal explodes and a mech starts smashing things."

"I've been told that sort of thing happens around you a lot," Kaidan said, his voice deadpanned. It was hard to tell if the Commanders expression was an amused smirk, or an annoyed glare.

"So next," he went on, ignoring Kaidan's comment, "there are mercs and C-sec shooting at each other, and we just happened to get caught in the cross fire. Turns out the terminal exploded because the mech had short-circuited it. C-sec blamed the mercs – Blood Pack, they were, but I'm not buying it because the vorcha don't tend to get too up close and personal with technology. They're more into shooting things. Keeps it nice and simple. So the surviving vorcha denied any responsibility, and I decided to have a look at the evidence myself."

"You can do that?" Wasn't confiscating evidence illegal?

"Spectre clearance," Shepard explained. "It's like a free pass to do whatever the hell you like, whenever you like. It's working out really well for me."

And somehow, that just didn't make Kaidan feel any better. He'd seen the abuse of power up close and personal before… and never, ever wanted to go through that again.

"Come on," Shepard said, oblivious to his disquiet. "I'll give you a tour of the ship."

This section has been removed due to rules about explicit content. You can find the full version at 'Archive of Our Own' under the same author and title.

Pulling himself together, Cortez got off the bed and started gathering his clothes. Shepard was lying on the bed, looking relaxed and rather pleased with himself.

"Oh, hey, I heard we have a new crew member," Cortez said as he dressed himself, more to fill in the silence than anything. Shepard was not one for post-coital conversation, but Cortez always felt awkward as hell getting dressed in absolute silence, Shepard's shrewd gaze watching him, so he opted for light commentary about the ship, the crew, the latest mission. Something to fill the void, but nothing of a personal nature.

"Major Alenko," Shepard said with a yawn. "Apparently he did the Alliance some favor a while back, so they've decided to dump him on me. He's got a decent service record, but I doubt he'll be of much use until he manages to take that stick out of his ass. The man makes the turians look relaxed and congenial."

Cortez chuckled, pulling on his boots. "Give him a few days. This place takes some getting used to." He picked up his jacket and checked he hadn't left anything behind. "G'night, Commander." He let himself out of the cabin and called for the elevator.

As the door closed behind Cortez, Shepard allowed himself to slump back onto the bed with a deep sigh. He'd thought that a bout of vigorous sex would clear his head, but if anything, it had only made things worse. And then Cortez had brought Alenko up again, and reminded Shepard of why he'd been so desperate to fuck someone's brains out in the first place.

The first free moment he'd had after they'd arrived back at the Normandy, he'd checked out Alenko's service record, and 'decent' could hardly describe it. He was a biotic – an extremely accomplished one – and a medic, he'd been awarded several medals for service or bravery, and most recently, he'd negotiated the safe release of hostages from a man who had never, ever before agreed to negotiate with anyone. Shoot first, then disappear had been the man's SOP for close to a decade. But Alenko had talked him down, securing not just the release of the hostages, but the man's surrender. There had been a few conditions attached to that surrender, but nothing too onerous, and given the havoc he had wrecked in the past, the Alliance was more than a little relieved to have him in custody.

But that wasn't the only thing that had gotten his attention. In the brief half hour that they had spent together, he had gotten a good feel for the man's character. Alenko was… solid. Stable. A counterpoint to his own recklessness and restlessness. And damn, the man had a fine ass.

He had to be straight, though. Shepard was used to people flirting with him, whether it was members of his crew, reporters, shop keepers… half of it might have been genuine attraction, but the other half was more to do with his influence and power. Charisma, Chakwas called it, the natural tendency of people to gravitate towards him. And Alenko had seemed completely immune to it, those sharp, amber eyes watching him get patched up in the med bay without the slightest hint of distraction.

It was a damn shame.

And he wondering what the Major would look like without that crisp, starched uniform on…