Author's Note:
Drksyders here! Thank you for stopping by and reading A Tale of Two Shepards - a TEAM project bringing together some wonderful friends in our mutual love of Mass Effect. We really appreciate your comments, feedback, faves and reviews.
First. Many thanks to TEAM SHEPARD for all the time, support, love and dedication. You guys mean the world to me!
Second. A special thank you to my military advisers, Artimus and Kir El. Thank you guys for your service, sacrifice, and letting me constantly pick your brains about all things military. THANK YOU to all the men and women in uniform (except Cerberus), past and present, who have given so much for the rest of us.
Third. A big shout out and thanks to Roarkshop for her amazing work, Sense and Flexibility. She raised the bar of quality for fanficton and inspired this whole project. If you hate it, blame her. :)
Fourth. I'd like to dedicate A Tale of Two Shepards to my BBBFF (Big Brother Best Friend Forever), Jeremy. You will always be the biggest badass in the galaxy to me.
Fifth and last. Mass Effect Characters, Terms, and Themes are owned by Bioware. No Copyright infringement intended. Please don't sue us.
Prologue 1: Akuze, 2177 CE (Council Era)
No matter how hard the young 2nd Lieutenant John Shepard tried, the only thing he could see was a kitten.
The psychologist insisted that there was more to the exam, that he needed more data.
"Look at the entire picture, please," he said. "Consider the background, the placement of the subjects, and the colors used. This psychological test will only work if you cooperate. . ."
But still, no matter how hard he looked, all he could see was a kitten.
It was this damned hospital, he decided. Things didn't feel right here. Two months in an Alliance Military Hospital actually felt six times that long - like Vorcha years. Colors and sounds were muted, as if he'd been caught in the effect radius of a flash-bang grenade that just didn't fade. The voices of the doctors were soft, tinny, and distant. Not that they ever said anything he wanted to hear. Not that he was talking much to anyone anyway.
And, this was the stupidest test of all. Showing him cartoon after cartoon. Shepard was past caring about what the so-called wizards wanted. He was a soldier; and not about to bare his soul over a stupid cartoon picture of a kitten. How could he feel something about a kitten, anyway?
The kitten didn't look anything like the terrified face Private Carter. He had begged not to die as he writhed in the blood-drenched sand. The ball of string couldn't help Chief Patel as the ground gave way beneath him and ultimately tipped him into a giant, toothed maw. The bright powder-blue sky had nothing to do with the helpless screams, sizzling acid, and ground-shaking roars from that day on Akuze.
The green grass didn't look anything like the pale-grey sand that covered that cursed planet's surface. The same sand he'd dragged himself through for 10 klicks, despite internal-bleeding, a broken leg, busted eardrums, and 2nd degree acid burns. There was no bright lemon-yellow sun that day; it was a starless overcast night when his squad, his men, his friends had died.
Akuze. Already the planet's name had taken on a hushed and sinister tone when it was uttered by other members of the Alliance marines. None of them would ever understand what "Akuze" really meant, but there was a reverence in the name when they dared to speak it - always in whispers, as if merely speaking the name would cause the thresher maws to take notice.
There was nothing more to be said about Akuze. It had been hell. He'd survived it. He was ready to get back to work. Shepard knew he was fit for duty: he was twenty-three and healed quickly. He didn't know and didn't care why the top-brass were evaluating him so closely. Psych screenings, stress tests, and body scans. . . none of them told the truth: that being in this damned hospital was more painful than anything he'd seen on fucking Akuze.
"Are you having suicidal thoughts?"
"What?" Shepard asked.
"Are you having suicidal thoughts?" repeated the Alliance psychologist in a smooth, even tone.
"No." Shepard responded flatly. It's not that I want to kill myself. It's just that I don't want to live.
"Are you having any trouble sleeping?"
"No." Sleeping is no trouble; the dreams are.
The doctor paused a moment, scanning the datapad and waiting for a change in heart-rate, brain activity, or something to indicate distress. Eventually, he shrugged.
"Is anything there else you'd like to talk about?"
"No. May I be dismissed, sir?"
"We're done, for now. Dismissed, 2nd Lieutenant."
Shepard stood stiffly, offered a quick salute, and stepped out of the room. He moved mechanically, despite the slight limp, back towards the hospital bed and armchair surrounded by wack curtains that constituted his "room" at the hospital. He resumed his seat in the chair and continued to stare expressionlessly out the window.
More time passed, days perhaps. A voice distant and disembodied had spoken to him. It repeated itself, several times, trying to get his attention. He didn't remember sleeping or eating. He must've at some point. He looked over his shoulder at the speaker.
"Ma'am?"
The nurse repeated for the fifth time, obviously frustrated. "You have a visitor."
"Oh. Yes." He replied flatly and turned back to the window.
The nurse rolled her eyes and pulled back the flimsy curtain. A rustle of movement indicated someone had entered the "room" and sat on his bed. The nurse closed the curtain and he noted her footsteps walking away. He was about to give up the strain of paying attention when a vaguely familiar voice, young and laced with a smile, called to him from what seemed like another system.
"John?"
He continued to stare out the window, maybe if he ignored her, she would go away. But, the call repeated.
"Jooooooohhhhhn?" The voice called in a sing-song tease. His mind flooded with memories of mischievous laughter and tears damp on his shoulder. He remembered cleaning her cinnamon and burgundy streaked hair, still matted with food after cafeteria fights. He remembered red-brown eyes that always sparkled with delight right before shooting him down in endless games of "Human versus Batarian Pirate." He remembered giggling bedtime stories about Rear-Admiral Faceblaster and his rogue military crew roaming the galaxy to dispense justice and right wrongs.
The memories, like that stupid cartoon kitten, were unrelated to Akuze. And, just as easily ignored.
Finally the steps rose, moving in front of him and closing the window. Corporal Margaret Lynn Shepard leaned against the window sill lowering her slender face into in his line of sight. She'd changed since he'd last seen her. She'd grown taller, filled out, and lost the gawky awkwardness of a teenager - but, she was still unmistakably his sister. It was the eyes - everyone had always said - that marked them as siblings.
"Jo-Jo? Earth to Jo-Jo. Are you in there?" The girl rapped her knuckles softly on his forehead with a playful air. John looked up and he felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach.
"Maggie?" He asked, a tinge of surprise coming through the deadpan stupor.
"Yeah. It's me."
Something else was different. She still had that misleading youthful innocence to her appearance and her eyes still sparkled with mischief and life. And then, he saw the uniform. He tried to remember the last time he saw her.
"Mags.. I…" he tried to begin; he didn't even know where to start. Suddenly, he noticed his hands were trembling and emotions flickered across his face. He looked up at her, unable to hide the pain in his eyes.
Before he could get any further, her arms were around his neck, squeezing in a show of force he never remembered his sister being capable of. He put his arms uncertainly around her and sagged. It was Maggie, his sister. He thought he would never see her again and everything came crashing back.
His men, the maws, the smoke, gunfire, and blood. And, for the first time since it happened he felt it. His body started to shake and she just gripped him tighter. The tears pricked his eyes and he hugged her fiercely as if the contact would help hold the emotions at bay.
"uggh.. air! Jo-jo, AIR! Need….to…breathe" she huffed, shoving him off with a laugh and flexing her shoulders.
Maggie stepped back and looked down at him, concern and worry in her usually smiling eyes. She took his hands simultaneously pulling him standing while kicking the chair away and then crossed her ankles and sat on the floor with her back to the wall below the window, hauling him down next to her.
They used to sit like that and talk for hours in the air ducts of the stations and ships where they played as children. They sat against the wall cornered between bed and chair. Somehow enclosed spaces felt like home, or as close to "home" as they ever achieved from their mother's postings. The fond memories of childhood were forcing away the painful memories of battle. She didn't let go of his hand and he stared at their feet stretched out side by side. He finally found his voice.
"How's mom?"
"Oh… mission-ing someplace. The usual. Blah blah top secret, blah blah security" The levity in her tone almost made him smile.
"She really wanted to be here," his sister continued, "but last I heard she was somewhere near the Hades Gamma cluster. It was just too far."
"I understand…So, Engineering Corps huh?"
She laughed.
"Don't act so surprised. We can't all be ground-pounder jarhead officers and make mom proud like some people." She leaned into him with a playful nudge. "And besides, I love to build things. It seemed like the best compromise after …" She trailed off and let the sentence hang.
They both winced in unison at the memory and Maggie cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Anyhow…I joined with the Engineers just after the last time we saw you on the SSV Einstein before mom took that posting on the Kilimanjaro. They recruited me when they saw my work on upgraded turret targeting. Things could be better, but, at least, mom and I are talking again. It's Corporal now, by the way."
"Congratulations." He nudged her with an elbow.
"Yeah yea…Mr. bloody 2nd Lieutenant. You've jumped the ranks faster than anyone's ever seen. And then..."
He felt her stiffen by his side. Shepard winced at even the suggestion of Akuze in conjunction with his career. He didn't want to get a reward for his failure. Part of him still feared the review would earn him a court martial. But, all of those concerns were blasted from his thoughts when Maggie exploded with anger.
"And then you fucking disappear for nearly three months! Not a goddamn word to me or Mom. I get back from the Academy to find reports of your unit wiped out. We thought you were dead! I'm AWOL right now, you know. I've been trying to track you down for weeks. Mom called in a favor to Anderson who stepped in when we couldn't find you."
The words had tumbled out of her and she was breathless. Her caramel skin flushed with emotion. In a quick movement, she ducked her head into his shoulder. He felt tears soaking through his uniform, but didn't look. Instead, he put an arm around her to comfort her as she cried.
"I thought we lost you, Jo-Jo," she sniffled.
Maggie always rallied after a good cry. So, John let her be. Seeing her pain made him come face to face with his own. He realized how numb and paralyzed he'd been. It was dangerous, he'd hardly recognized his own sister.
He took a deep breath and forced the emotions to run through him. The anger. The hurt. The raw terror. The guilt. He'd let all of them down. He didn't deserve to live while so many soldiers worth ten of him had died.
"Besides" she sniffled, "you can't leave me alone with Mom - we'll kill each other."
He nodded sagely.
"Ain't that the truth…"
"Ugh, look. You've gone and made me all splotchy."
Maggie skirted the silence by trying to push the tears away from her face. She stood and went to her own pack on the bed, rummaging noisily. Eventually, she seemed to find what she was looking for and returned to sit next to him on the floor, dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform. The girl took his hand and latched an omni-tool around his wrist. He hadn't worn one since the mission.
"Anderson says… and I quote… 'Check your damn messages.' "
He grumbled his protests as he fumbled with the orange holo-display of the device. At his side, he heard his sister deftly using her own, custom built wrist-based technological wonder. She couldn't keep her fingers off the damn thing for more than an hour, but the familiarity of her gestures was a comfort. Shepard, on the other hand, was a soldier and never overly fond of technology. He recognized its value, but he'd trade a good firearm for the omni-tool any day.
For Anderson, he'd make an effort of it.
Anderson had been their mother's Captain and, unlike many other officers, he actually enjoyed having the children on his ship. He'd always kept an eye on them even after new postings and promotions had separated them. So, Shepard "checked his damn messages."
His eyes moved over the dozens of messages that accumulated in his absence; a large number of them from Maggie herself after he went MIA. There were fitness reports, statement requests, debrief meetings that he had entirely ignored, with strongly worded reprimands for not appearing at said debriefs.
"July 1st, o-seven-hundred," his sister intoned without looking up from her own omni-tool.
He glared at her, though he wasn't surprised. Communications systems were easy as breathing for her. He quickly found the indicated message.
July 1, 2177
2nd Lieutenant John Shepard
Major Thomas Hirsch Memorial Hospital
Room 321
Greetings Mr. Shepard:
You have been selected for admission and are authorized to report to the Systems Alliance's Interplanetary Combatives Training (ICT) program, Vila Militar in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Earth on 22 September 2177, before 10:00am local standard time. You will find helpful information in the enclosed instructions about transportation, baggage, funds, and other matters pertaining to admission.
You are congratulated on this opportunity for admission to the Alliance Special Forces advanced combat training, for it comes only to a select few of humanity's best. It presents a challenge that will demand your best effort. Therefore, it is suggested that you give serious thought to your desire for a military career as, without proper motivation, you may find it difficult to conform to what may be a new way of life.
Wishing you a full measure of success and satisfaction as a member of the "N-School" and as a commissioned officer in the Systems Alliance Armed Forces,
I am sincerely yours,
Rear Admiral Brian Kahoku
He barely had time to process what the message meant before he felt a nudge from his side with a mocking echo of his own words.
"Congratulations."
Anger surged in him and he turned away from her, disengaging the omni-tool from his wrist and throwing it angrily at the bed with a stream of curses. He pushed himself up, pacing the tiny space between the bed and dislocated chair.
"How dare they reward me? I got my whole squad killed! Congratulations, join us at the most advanced combat training in the galaxy? You managed to not die, let's promote you?"
He fumed and raged in the tiny space.
Maggie stared at him blankly, confusion in her face, wincing at his particularly colorful expletives. She let his anger run it's course and when she saw his shoulders slump, anger turning to hurt, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit next to her once again. The small girl wrapped both her arms around his bicep and squeezed.
"Easy, Jo-Jo," she soothed him with her voice. "This is what you wanted isn't it? You got into N-School. At 23! No one does that. How is this bad? Talk to me."
He pulled his arm away from her grip, pulling his legs up and resting his elbows on his knees, leaning his head back against the wall. His words felt strange in his mouth, it had been months since he really talked. But, it would be pointless to keep the truth from Maggie.
"We were sent in to find the civilian pioneer team on Akuze. They hadn't reported in for days. Our orders were simple. Investigate and report. We found the settlement completely intact. No damage and no trace of the team. It was 10 klicks to the landing zone. So, we set up watch and hunkered down for the night…"
John's throat tightened. He felt the emotions ready to overwhelm him again. Then, he felt his sister lean against his side, her contact a gentle comfort. He took a rattling breath and continued.
"It just happened so fast. I didn't even see it begin." He closed his eyes. Visions of his men melting and screaming as the acid sizzled through armor and flesh alike, the terrible crunching sound of bone, the smell of burning metal, flesh, and ozone from overloaded shields mixed together in a horror beyond measure. And, he'd failed them. His hand went instinctively to his leg, the scars from the skin grafts beneath his fatigues still fresh.
"They all died and I couldn't do a damned thing about it. But, they kept fighting…we…kept fighting until the end. I don't know why or how I crawled back to the LZ. But, I know I shouldn't be alive right now. I failed all of them and they want to fucking reward me. I can never repent for that and I refuse to gain from it."
He didn't even realize his hands were shaking again until Maggie had grabbed them. She was sitting across from him, cross-legged. He hadn't felt her move, he was so lost in reliving his memories. Together, they were shadowed in the small space with his back firmly against the wall. It felt safe and his mind was starting to clear.
"You're never going to repent." She said somberly after the silence had stretched. "And, what would they want with repentance anyway? You think that's going to make them feel better? You think your friends and crew are going to be happy if you give up?" He started at her words, but she looked him dead in the eyes and drilled her message into his mind like a sniper shot.
"You are not going to repent. You are going to fight for them. Every bullet you fire will be a flower on their graves. Every mission you complete will be a prayer for their souls. And, every life you save will honor their memories. You will honor them, John Shepard. You will honor them until the whole damn galaxy knows each and every one of their names as well as you do."
He stared at his sister while shock and heart-wrenching pain contorted his face. But, a fire was lit in him and it spread from his gut with a strange burning calmness following in its wake. He knew somehow in his very core that her words were an ultimate and simple truth. He knew this would change him forever.
"And you will message me every month on the dot to let me know you're still breathing or so help me I will track you down and beat you with your own goddamn rifle. Promise?" She added with a fierce smile through her tears and despite everything, he couldn't help but smile right back at her.
"Promise."