Thank you so much!

And thank you for mentioning that line; I’ve always been really partial to it. Of course I’ll expand!

The thing is, my Shepard and Kaidan weren’t actually particularly friendly for most of the series. For me, as the writer (player), this happened because of the weird game mechanics in the first game, where it’s almost impossible to get through the game without either Kaidan or Liara thinking Shepard’s interested in them. From Shepard’s perspective, attempts to be friendly with Kaidan (and Liara) ended in colossal misunderstandings about her intentions.

So, that sort of meta-level information ended up getting funneled into my take on Shepard’s characterization. Given that game mechanics dictate that Shepard will always end up talking to her crew, what could I, as a writer, do to make that mechanic make sense on a psychological level for the character? What I came up with was basically this: Shepard makes time to talk to her crew one on one. Partly this is out of friendliness and interest, and partly it’s because she knows this is a good way to get a read on her crew--their mental states, their health, their concerns, their strengths and weaknesses. She’s an infiltrator, after all. Gathering information is pretty much second nature to her.

Part of me wants to just hand this one over to thievinghippo ;)

Thank you! I am, indeed, writing a book right now! :D

Far be it from me to crush any shipping dreams, but... as much as I love the friendship between Solana and Kaidan--and I really, really do--Sol is way in love with someone else. (I’ve mentioned him a few times in AHOD: Naxus Fedorian. He shows up as more of a character in Something Like Home, and there are a few ficlets about him and Solana on the fic continuity page.) She doesn’t know if he survived, of course, but the uncertainty of his fate hasn’t diminished her love for him. 

On a completely different note: I don’t think Solana’s particularly attracted to humans. She hasn’t had nearly her brother’s experience interacting with them, and to her they are very alien. So, even apart from being in love with someone who may or may not be dead, I don’t think it would occur to her to think about romance with someone of another species at this juncture. For that matter, I’m not sure Kaidan would be attracted to her, either. It’s not impossible, of course

Their friendship grew really organically for me, in the writing of it. They are the outsiders together; that was deliberately done. “But, Tara!” you cry, “Kaidan’s been around for years! How can he be an outsider?” That’s true. But my Shepard’s relationship with him has always been strained, and most of the crew that’s assembled for A Handful of Dust hails from the Collector mission. There’s not a lot of trust on either side, especially without (certainly in the beginning) the glue of Shepard to hold them all together. 

While Solana has the (obviously longstanding) connection to Garrus, she’s also a complete unknown to everyone else. Part of why I wanted her as a POV character in the story is because I knew she could offer a completely different perspective. She knows a different Garrus; she can see things others can’t, while also being ignorant or clueless when it comes to so much of his life in the past few years. Confronted by so many inside jokes, and obvious camaraderie, it seemed natural that Kaidan and Solana--so often excluded or confused by these interactions--might end up gravitating toward each other.

Also? Kaidan’s a nice guy, and he has known Garrus a long time. It doesn’t take much to see how lost Solana is, and though she’s obviously putting a brave face on things, he can see she doesn’t get most of what’s going on. She doesn’t know the history. So, he basically volunteers to act as her guide. He’s just not the kind of guy who can stand idly by while someone is confused like Solana is.

As to the other half of the question, though, I think Solana would make her brother suffer a lot if she ever caught him playing at overprotective big brother. Pretty sure that wouldn’t stop the inevitable “hurt her and you’ll never see the shot coming” conversation, but anything more than that, and she’d start polishing her own sniper rifle ;)

Poor Kaidan.

I do think he held a torch for her, but she didn’t actually encourage it. As soon as she realized her concern and care was being misread, she sort of slammed down the iron gate of PROFESSIONALISM. In fact, I think she overreacted a bit, but there’s no convincing her of that.

I rarely write from his point of view, but I think he took the loss of the Normandy and Shepard’s death really hard. Of course he would, right? He’s a good Alliance soldier. He’s brave; he’s committed; he’d have thrown his life down for Shepard’s in a heartbeat and counted it an honor. It galled him that, in following her order to evacuate, he wasn’t able to save her. He spends a lot of time wondering what he might’ve done differently. 

(Later, I think this is part of why he’s so adamant about getting the Normandy to retreat when the Crucible goes off; he saw one Normandy burn--it wasn’t going to happen again.)

So, I think it took him a while to come to terms with Shepard’s loss. It wasn’t just about having once had feelings for her, though I think after her death he is honest with himself about how deeply his regard had run. He heals. It’s slow. He tells himself he’s moved on. He still asks himself what Shepard would have done every time he’s stalled on a decision. The memory of her becomes a bit of a companion, not unlike what (in my headcanon) happens with Garrus as Archangel on Omega. It’s easy for that version of her to become an ideal, though, and ideals are dangerous because real people can never live up to them.

When he sees her on Horizon, it really is like seeing a ghost. She’s been so real in his head that he can’t believe what he’s seeing. That she appears to be working with Cerberus is... well, the Shepard in his head would never have done that, so yeah, he lashes out. The recoil is harsh; it’s as harsh as Shepard’s retreat to PROFESSIONALISM had been. 

He regrets it later. He tries to write. He can’t. He does try. But he can’t follow through. He doesn’t understand what she’s doing, or why. He can’t line up the pictures. So he doesn’t send his letters. He’s angry with himself because a part of him still wants to follow her, still believes he’d throw down his life for her in a heartbeat and call it an honor.

He can’t understand this part of himself, either.

Does his heart break when he finds out Shepard’s in a relationship with Garrus? Maybe a little. Hairline fractures. But it’s the ache of an old wound, not the acute pain it might’ve been if Shepard and Garrus got together back in the SR1 days.

Mostly, though, I think he’s glad they have each other. He likes Garrus, you know? And he sees how well they work together, how well they support each other. When he’s honest, he realizes he wouldn’t have fit as well into that role. So he hurts a little, but not as much as he might have. Seeing them together actually helps him get over that old longing, that wish for something she wasn’t willing to give. He looks at her with clearer eyes, he takes her down off the pedestal he’d put her on. He’d still throw down his life for hers in a heartbeat, because she’s a great leader, a great commander, and the galaxy needs her.

The short answer is it was a total coin toss. When I first played Mass Effect, it was on PS3 before ME1 was available on the platform, so I was just choosing things based on the Genesis comic. I had played about half of ME1 earlier on my PC before it died, but a couple of years earlier (I remembered the characters but wasn’t particularly attached to any of them?). A friend who was really into the series loved Kaidan, so I basically saved him because I recognized his name. Then I wrote fic where he was definitely present in Grace’s continuity, so he was rather locked in. 

The headcanon comes into it later. When ME1 was released on PS3 I played a ‘canon’ Grace playthrough and… she and Kaidan didn’t get along very well. (I mean, I WAS SURPRISED by it.) Part of it is game mechanics: she was nice to him, but didn’t want to start a romance (and it was already canonically part of her story that she hadn’t had an ME1 romance), so when he told her he was “picking up signals” she threw on the brakes pretty hard because if he was picking up signals they were definitely ones she hadn’t intended on putting out there. At all. There was also a conversation in which he cautioned her against cutting corners, and she… was upset. She doesn’t cut corners and felt like anyone who knew her would see that. She prides herself on not cutting corners. So she felt Kaidan was out of line to call her on something she hadn’t actually done, especially since, in her mind, they weren’t close enough for him to be questioning her in that way.

In the end, she ended up very reserved around him, I think. And her reserve probably looked like aloofness or even dislike. (She doesn’t dislike him, I want to note; they just never bonded, and she really didn’t want him mistaking niceness for romantic interest.)

Grace and Ashley got on very well. I mean, I was surprised at how lovely their friendship was. I wasn’t really anticipating it. (Grace completely understood Ashley’s misgivings about non-Alliance personnel on the ship. But Grace was also a Spectre at this point, and had responsibilities outside of Alliance protocol. Grace told her to stand down, Ashley did; they were totally cool afterward.) I think Grace saw Ash as a little sister in need of some encouragement and some unbiased opportunities to excel and prove herself, and she was willing to provide those things.

Virmire boiled down to the importance of the mission above all else. Friendship aside, the mission was paramount, and the mission was to detonate the bomb. Kaidan was guarding the bomb—he was the tech guy; tech-guy stays with the tech—and therefore his was the more mission-necessary location. So that’s how she chose. It wasn’t easy, but she wouldn’t have lost either of them easily. She doesn’t lose anything easily. And she never, ever thought anything like “If only Ashley had survived instead of you.” She’s glad Kaidan didn’t die, but it hurt like hell because Grace really loved Ashley, and wanted so badly for her to succeed and become all that she had the potential to be. You know, to get out from under the weight of her name and make something of herself and grow up and learn to see the galaxy with different eyes… and then she died before it really happened. So, I think that’s why Ash has, since then, played something of a major psychological role in several stories in the Grace Shepard continuity: her loss was hard to bear on a number of levels, and her presence (and the loss of that presence) has remained really influential.

The funny thing about writing a lot of stories in a really long, really interconnected continuity (and writing them out of order!) is that a lot of pieces get filled in later, as needed. It's weird to think of now, because it's become such a vital piece of the Grace Shepard puzzle, but Life Signs was actually written early (actually I think I started posting it about two years ago exactly), but it takes place late in the continuity. It's kind of chicken and egg, really. I invented the beginnings of Grace's backstory (particularly Alberts) on Elysium for Life Signs, and then filled them in much later, when I wrote Cold Skies, Keen Perils. I didn't actually know some of the Elysium story that ended up in Cold Skies until I wrote it, and maybe would've used it in Life Signs if I had? But Cold Skies couldn't have existed without Life Signs.

I think I have answered it before, but probably a while back!

The short answer is it was a total coin toss. When I first played Mass Effect, it was on PS3 before ME1 was available on the platform, so I was just choosing things based on the Genesis comic. I had played about half of ME1 earlier on my PC before it died, but a couple of years earlier (I remembered the characters but wasn't particularly attached to any of them?). A friend who was really into the series loved Kaidan, so I basically saved him because I recognized his name.

Later, when ME1 was available for PS3 and I got to play and actually feel the weight of the decisions, it became a bit of a headcanon puzzle. It still made sense because Grace sent the tech person (Kaidan) to look after the bomb, and since the bomb was the primary objective, she went back for him (and it). Mission first. But it hurt like hell because Grace really loved Ashley, and got along with her really well (helped by no unwanted romance vibes; Grace respects Kaidan but they don't always get along... which has actually turned out to be a really interesting dynamic to write about, but I digress), and wanted so badly for her to succeed and become all that she had the potential to be. You know, to get out from under the weight of her name and make something of herself and grow up and learn to see the galaxy with different eyes... and then she died before it really happened. So, I think that's why Ash has, since then, played something of a major psychological role in several stories in the Grace Shepard continuity: her loss was hard to bear on a number of levels, and her presence (and the loss of that presence) has remained really influential.

So. Coin toss. I absolutely enjoy them both as characters.

Commander Shepard came strolling around the corner, and Kaidan was already halfway to his feet, Ashley a second behind him, before she waved them back to their seats. He squinted in the dim light of the mess. She was carrying—were they—they couldn’t be—

“Found them in one of the lockers,” the commander said, twirling the pair of ping-pong paddles, one in each hand. “Was hoping for cards, but—” She shrugged. “Next time we swing past the Citadel, maybe. In the meantime, either of you soldiers up for a match?”

“Of… ping-pong, ma’am?” Ashley asked, not quite able to mask the confusion.

“Sure,” the commander declared. Her sweeping gesture took in the table. “Across the width for an easy game, or length for a more challenging one.”

Kaidan cleared his throat. He and Ashley exchanged glances. When he looked back at the commander, her brows were lifted in silent question and he said, “We’re on the hunt for a rogue Spectre and, uh, you want to play ping-pong, Commander?”

Her eyes narrowed. Not angrily; more like she was trying to size him up. Make sense of something. He’d noticed the look before; Commander Shepard didn’t like not knowing. She was good at figuring people out; he’d witnessed it firsthand on more than one occasion. He felt strangely pleased that he wasn’t quite yet an open book to her. “Pretty sure Saren’s not going to show up in the next hour,” she said reasonably. “And downtime’s important.”

“Fair enough, Commander,” he replied.

She flipped one of the paddles to him and he caught it out of the air easily.

“Just Shepard’ll do fine, Kaidan. Especially during that aforementioned downtime.” She smirked. “We’re all equals over the ping-pong table.”

“Until I win,” he returned, with just a hint of swagger, testing the waters. Instead of reprimanding him, Shepard chuckled and nodded, seemingly approving. He felt strangely pleased about that, too.

Ashley grinned and jabbed an elbow into his ribs. “Big talk, Alenko. You got skills to back them up?”

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Six matches and countless shared anecdotes in—two wins apiece, though Kaidan was pretty sure Shepard wasn’t actually bringing her A-game—Joker’s voice came over the comm. “You wanted to know when we were thirty minutes out of Virmire, Commander.”

“Thanks, Joker.” She tilted a lopsided smile their way. “Right then. Suit up. It’s all hands on deck for this one.” She pointed her paddle at Kaidan with a mock-menacing glare. “Rematch later. This time Williams is going to be on biotics watch. I don’t think that last shot was entirely aboveboard, Alenko. Little too much lift, if you know what I mean.”

Ashley lobbed a companionable punch his way, but he ducked out of the way, laughing as they headed to the lockers.

Oh, man, this is kind of a fun question. Thank you for asking!