Location: Unknown; Date: Unknown
"I thought I told you no simulations during meals? That's how accidents happen."
A young human shrank back under his mother's glare and quickly pocketed the device in an attempt to appease her. It didn't work.
"You spend far too much time on that thing anyways. There's a real galaxy out here."
The woman's father smiled at the interaction, relishing how the tables had turned on his daughter. It seemed like only yesterday that she had been the same age and he had lectured her for similar bad habits. Now her offspring would drive her mad and give her gray hairs before she hit her second century.
"This is really delicious, Natasha." His attention was drawn to his daughter's spouse and his complimenting of the meal. The man had to agree. His son had chosen well in a mate. Smart, driven, and clearly gifted in the culinary arts. Which was a blessing since his son would starve if left to his own devices. Really, how does one screw up a nutrient shake?
His daughter in law smiled at the recognition and shared her secrets. "It's the mixture of Thessian and Sanghelian spices. Really gives the vegetables kick."
To his left his wife, the love of his long-lived life and the mother to his two children, nodded and wondered out loud "Who would have ever thought those two would go together?"
"What do you mean, grandmother?" The man smiled at his youngest grandchild. Inquisitive and bright. A natural curiosity to learn. Frowning again he remembered how the same child never missed a single detail, much to the detriment and embarrassment of all.
"Long ago the people of Thessia and Sanghelios didn't get along. It took a while for them to learn not to fight each other." His wife's adoration shone through in her patient explanation to the child who soaked up her words like a sponge.
The child's eyes widened, eager to learn more. "Really? Why?"
"I've learned about that in my studies lately." His eldest grandchild responded to her cousin, eager to impart her wisdom.
The young man who had browsed through simulations earlier joined in the conversation. The old man knew how this grandchild was enthralled with the stories of ages past where heroes fought across the stars. The vids made it sound so romantic. So clean. "The Great War?"
His mother rebuked him yet again and the old man had to suppress his chuckle. He could practically see the strands of her hair turning from a glossy black to a bright gray before his eyes. "There was nothing 'Great' about that war."
"Grandfather, is that the one about the Shepard?" The small child's elation shone through in her words. He'd never admit it but she was his favorite. So much like his own sister when they were children. Full of life and happiness. And more than a bit of a hero-worship for the 'Shepard'.
His wife narrowed her eyes and glared at him. Even after all of these decades that look could make him question if apologizing would be a good idea even if he knew he'd done nothing wrong. "You've been telling stories again, haven't you dear?"
The man shrugged. It's not like he told them anything explicit. Just the usual sort of stories about the greatest hero the galaxy had ever know. He fondly remembered his own youth and how his own grandfather would tell these tales. That man had a way with storytelling, rest his soul.
His oldest grandchild voiced her thoughts again, this time taking a critical view "Most of the stuff I've read really doesn't make the Shepard sound so heroic." Her three younger cousins glared at the attack on their hero. "Many of the things he did where questionable and the ones that were not were just luck. He happened to be in the right place at the right time."
The man nodded and watched his grandchildren absorb that bit of information. He remembered when his own illusions about the man were shattered by truth but once he had recovered he saw that the Shepard was something greater. This hero wasn't some perfect god from antiquity. He was mortal and placed in incredible situations that decided the fate of the galaxy. "And if he hadn't of been there none of us might be here today."
The younger children's eyes widened in fear as they processed what he meant and the old man could have kicked himself for being so flippant with his response. Glancing at his wife he knew what was coming next. "Well done. Scare them. This is turning out to be a lovely topic of discussion over dinner."
His youngest grandchild frowned, looking at the adults seated at the table for reassurance. "So the Shepard wasn't a hero?"
Giving the child what he craved the man smiled and nodded. "He was that and more. A single man who changed the galaxy but still just a man."
Tilting her head curiously, his favorite asked "Did you know him?"
The silence that fell over the table was only interrupted by the low hum of the drones cleaning in the kitchen.
Then as one all the adults, minus the old man, erupted into laughter. At his expense, of course. The man frowned, his pride wounded. He knew better than to place the anger on the small girl. She was innocent of knowing how insulting her question would be. But his wife, children and their spouses? Fair game and he glared at them all.
His wife showed the immunity she had built to his displeasure and needled him. "You certainly asked for that one."
Sighing, the man swallowed back his annoyance and put on a smile for the small girl, his favorite. "I may be old but I'm not that old." His smile widening he continued "When I was your age my own grandfather told me the tales of the Shepard."
Her face lit with recognition as she deduced her place in this cycle. "And now you're telling me." The girl frowned and thought it through. "But I don't want to get old so I have to tell my grandbabies."
His oldest child leaned forward and contemplated his father's words. "I always wondered where you had learned those stories from. So where did he learn them from?"
The old man smiled mysteriously, knowing his cryptic words would only cause them to speculate more "He may have learned them from someone who knew the stories as real history."
Practically bouncing in his seat, the young man blurted out "Was it the Turian hero? Or the Krogan Warlord?"
Frowning at her cousin's exuberance, his oldest grandchild shook her head and began deducing who it could be "It couldn't be. It was so long ago. It had to be the Asari scientist. She might have been a very old Matriarch when our ancestor was a boy."
Smiling at the discussion he had fostered, the old man leaned forward, knowing all would be awaiting his next words. He paused and glanced at his wife, who looked bored. Well, mostly everyone. "I'll tell you what. Continue your meals and I'll tell the true tale of the Shepard."
His favorite looked like she might pass out from joy "Really?"
"Really" He smiled indulgently at her. Clearing his throat he continued, his audience, young and old captivated already. "So to understand the hero you must understand the man. And to understand the man you must understand his beginnings. When he was a boy..."
"He was a boy?" His favorite looked perplexed. As if the concept of her hero ever being like the annoying boys she knew was an affront to everything she knew.
The old man laughed and nodded "Of course he was a boy, my love. What? Did you think they grew him in a lab to be the perfect soldier?"
"That happens later on." His wife's bored tone interrupted his storytelling.
As one the table shifted their shocked glances between the two of them, unsure if she had been joking or not.
The old man glared again and again his wife ignored it's meaning. "You're ruining the story, dear."
She waved his concerns off with a sickeningly sweet and fake smile. "Forgive me, love. I've heard you ramble on and on about this so many times before that I forget others have yet to become tired of hearing it. Please, by all means, carry on. He was a boy. The planet was Mindoir."
His eyes narrowed and he knew for sure she was testing his patience. "I was getting to that part, dear."
With a roll of her eyes and sigh she acquiesced "Well then get to it while the children are still young enough to care, love."
He stared at her for another beat, fuming silently, but then shook it off and continued. "Right. So he was a boy."
"And the planet was Mindoir." The youngest child showed his inquisitive and sharp mind at the worst possible moment.
Pointing at the child the old man whined to his wife, "See? You're already ruining the story."
Staring at her lover of nearly three centuries the woman sighed, wondering out loud "How have we managed to stay together this long?"
Ignoring her question the old man continued "Right. So, the Shepard is a boy on Mindoir. The year is 2570."
This time his own daughter interrupted, her mind finding an odd detail to hone in on. "Is that galactic calendar or terran?"
Speaking to her aunt the oldest grandchild yet again displayed her wealth of knowledge "It has to be terran. They still used that up until a few decades after the war. Something about politics and pride."
Finally losing his battle with his temper, the old man growled to the table at large, "Do you want to hear the story or not?"
The table went silent and slowly nodded.
Blowing out a breathe to regain his composure, the old man continued "Shepard. Boy. Mindoir. 2570." With a glare at his own daughter he specified, "Old Terran Calendar. He's only sixteen years old and his future is about to begin taking shape..."
Author's note: This is the beginning of an idea that has bounced around in my head for, well, years. I've never attempted to write anything like this before so I would appreciate any assistance or pointers people could offer. I'll try and update this at least once every other week.