AN: Hello, everyone who is interested in reading more about the world of "Price of victory", the main fic I'm writing. In this companion pieces fic I will post stories that happen around Jo and Joker, but don't involve them directly, and stories that don't fit chronologically into the story line. There will be no particular order or plan for these stories, I will simply post what I have. But if a chapter in here has a corresponding chapter within the main story, I will put in a notification. Reading the companion pieces is not necessary for understanding the main story!
Notification: This chapter has a corresponding chapter within "Price of victory" called "116: Adult responsibilities".
Time: Year 2188, 1.5 years after the end of the Reaper War, takes place at the same time as the corresponding chapter in the main story.
Place: Planet Chrysalis, planetside and on the ICA station.
Characters: James Vega, friends and OCs.
James could honestly say that when he first joined the Alliance at the age of eighteen, he'd had no idea how much he would come to enjoy teaching. And yet here he was. Not only did he have 92 recruits in his branch at the Academy, he now also had 1620 actors to torture and prepare. Granted, he had to share those actors with Garrus and Gilla O'Ran. The three of them, the leaders of Survival, Battle and Infiltration branches respectively, had fought all the other instructors for this right.
The plan was that the actors would be split in groups according to their species. James would take charge of the human actors. Jo had insisted that every single actor portraying a military person – be it her own boot camp buddies from the first vid or dead bodies on the battlefields from the last vid – needed to take part in this training. Therefore, the humans made up the most numerous group among the actors, counting 520 people. Garrus was to train the second largest group: the turian actors. Gilla, having been a Commando during the war, took care of the asari. The smaller groups – quarians, krogans and salarians – were entrusted to advanced recruits from the academy who had both Battle and Leadership specialisations. The smallest group consisted of 58 people from all the remaining species of the known galaxy. These would either portray individual fighters on the battlefield, like the elcor or geth, or represent species without notable military structures within the vids' story line, like the vorcha, hanar, drell and others. These actors simply needed to learn now to fight properly. All together there were eight different groups to be trained in distinctly different ways.
The studio didn't volunteer the information about which actor was assigned to which role, but it was easy for James to find out that the man who was to play him ended up being among those who were about to enter this actor boot camp. Obviously, that guy wasn't going to get as much screen time as, say, the one who was to play Garrus, or the actress portraying Tali. But he still counted as 'lead team' member and those actors were too busy even now shooting non-battle scenes with Marina Kruglova. Nevertheless, Valentino Mendez was here. His dossier said: voluntarily. Of course, what better way was there to prepare for a role than to observe your subject in close proximity? James respected the actor's dedication.
The trickiest part of this crazy endeavor was the vid crew recording everything and making it into a live reality show. Multistars had rented a large training complex on Chrysalis and the vid crew wired it completely before the actors arrived, leaving no blind spots. The leader of the vid team, a salarian guy named Kiras Midae, was in charge of making this training course a popular show, so he got the right to record everything and to edit the footage in any way he saw fit. James had to accept that, since he wasn't a showman in any way. This was Kiras' domain and they all agreed to work together. Still, James breathed easier after Dex infiltrated the camera system used by the vid crew and could now keep a constant eye on everything.
The training complex had a special separate building, where all the instructors could meet and discuss business. Garrus and James kept calling it War Room out of habit from the Normandy days. Kiras and his people had their own headquarters there, too. They put up over fifty screens there and monitored everything that their cameras caught – even the discussions in the staff's War Room. Those discussions and commentary made by people who had served on the Normandy and now worked directly with Commander Moreau would be the most interesting part of the reality show, Kiras promised them.
Each of the eight actor groups was to occupy a private set of buildings within one large training complex. They had their own dorms, training facilities and even small plazas. Each group was to be kept separated from the others for almost the entire three months.
James and Jo hadn't been to the same boot camp back on Earth, but most practices were the same throughout the entire Systems Alliance: The actors were divided into groups. Each group got a designation, and James chose theirs to be colours, just like in Jo's case all those years ago. Because he had so many people, he made the groups 40 people strong, even though the standard was 20-30 recruits in a group. Each team had their own drill instructors to train them. One team would stay together in one room. Men and women would have separate bathrooms and showers, but sleep in the same dorm. One week into the training a team leader would be selected by the instructors. That person would get a badge and be held responsible for the team's progress. If the team leader couldn't cope, the badge could change hands. Three weeks into the training the teams would be pitted against each other in simulated battles.
For the roles of drill instructors he chose recruits from his own and Garrus' branches at the ICA: twenty six humans, two for each team. His own little joke was to choose all girls, the smaller and daintier – the better. Each of those petite cuties – none below N2 – could single-handedly destroy this entire group of actors without breaking a sweat. They had survived everything he'd thrown at them so far and earned his personal respect, had stood their ground in hand-to-hand against all their fellow ICA recruits and even some Senior Instructors. They had all been total badasses on the battlefield before even joining the Academy – and now they were extremely efficient, intelligent and resourceful killing machines. But because of their looks and sizes people often didn't see them coming. James knew that these girls would tear apart all the expectations the actors had.
The day the actors arrived, James and everyone else from the Academy were prepared for anything. He observed with a barely hidden smile as actors, many of whom had arrived in flashy cars, had to enter the premises at the entrance assigned to their species and submit their luggage for inspection. His amusement grew – and Kiras cackled somewhere nearby – as the throng of human actors got more and more agitated because all their electronic communication devices were being confiscated, along with an endless amount of cosmetics, hair products and non-regulation clothes. Of course these people were prepared to suffer for their art. Of course they were willing to go the distance for a chance to be a part of The Shepard Epic. But they still would have liked to keep their creature comforts.
All the non-human actors were now out of his reach. Only Kiras had his fingers on everything that was going on. James' job was to train the humans, but first he had to officially greet them. Just like in real Alliance boot camps back on Earth about a decade ago, upon arrival and after inspection the new recruits were given a standard grey uniform and sent to find their beds and lockers in their designated dorms. The bunks, the bedding, the hygiene articles, their clothes, shoes and even underwear were all standard issue Alliance equipment, specially procured and delivered only days before.
"Look at their faces!" Kiras laughed gleefully, watching the screens in his HQ. James and Gilla were here with the vid team for the time being. Garrus and others were already off on some business or other.
"Your girls look sourer than my girls," Gilla noted to James. "Come to think of it, some of your guys look even sourer than that."
"Your girls can live longer without their favourite brand of shampoo before their scalps lose their shapes and shine. According to some human women, cheap shampoo can really damage their hair," James explained knowledgeably. He didn't mention that he'd only learned such details from girls during his own time in a boot camp. "I have a cure for that sourness, trust me."
"Do tell," Gilla looked up at him with almost sadistic interest.
"If anyone complains, I'll suggest they shave their heads. Human military used to do that back in the day, you know. Every recruit would have been shaved upon entering the boot camp."
Gilla exhaled, her mouth gaping open.
"Barbaric," she whispered, eyes wide with morbid fascination. "How beautifully malicious. I'll have to tell all my friends."
"Several hundred years back human military had to do that for a number of reasons, one of which had been lice. Tiny insects living in your hair. Nasty buggers, they jump from one person to another. So, no hair - no lice. Since that's no longer an issue these days, we just keep our hair out of the way."
This conversation was, of course, also being recorded. Kiras had asked James and the others to provide as much trivia about their species' military history for the cameras as possible. Gilla's fascination, however, was hardly a product of acting. This asari was funny and cruel and ruthless and tough, fitting in at the Academy just fine. She had a strong presence and, considering her specialization, had no problem ignoring the cameras and just being herself. James had nothing but respect for her, especially since he regularly found her recruits infiltrating his lessons, pretending to be part of his class. Their assignment was to stay unnoticed as long as possible. These days James acquired a habit of quickly counting his recruits before starting a class, just to weed out anyone who didn't really belong there. Still, even that didn't always work, and Gilla's Infiltration lessons had a lot to do with that.
James' assistant on this show, a young woman named Adelaide McNair, an N2, came in and reported that it was nearly time to greet the actors on the Human Plaza, as Kiras had named it for the viewers.
"How is it going, Kiras?" James asked the hyperactive salarian.
"Fantastic. The number of live viewers grows steadily. We are now at seventeen billion galaxy-wide. Nothing of interest has even happened yet! I expect the number to quadruple by tomorrow mid-morning."
"Good. Get ready. I'm off to meet my bunch," he lightly clapped the salarian on the shoulder, winked at Gilla and headed towards the back yard of the human barracks. Adelaide and other Ns from the Academy were directing the actors to their places: the teams had to form squares, standing in neat and straight lines. For non-military people even that was a challenge at first.
When everyone was in the correct spot, the Ns quickly took their own place in a line facing the recruits. James smoothed down his dress blacks. He was technically a part of the Ascension Fleet, who wore violet tint on their dark grey uniforms. However, James considered himself a part of the Academy, and their parade uniform was black with white and red tints, just like the rest of their clothes. He proudly wore his Staff Commander stars on his collar and all his medals on his chest. Today was the day to impress. Of course, the high rank and the smart uniform didn't go quite well with his Mohawk, but James didn't care. A few seconds after complete silence fell over the little plaza he stepped from the building and walked up to face his new recruits. The sun shone into their eyes, not his – which had been his full intention when he planned this ceremony.
The Ns saluted as one when he approached. James had instructed them to show off their perfect manners for the newbies, and they were doing a marvelous job. He stopped, facing the actors, and measured them with a heavy glance. He saw several spooked faces, some unhappy, some scared, and quite a few flirty ones.
"Recruits," he began and his voice carried firmly across the yard. "For those who don't know me yet, I am Staff Commander James Vega, Senior Instructor of the Survival branch at the Intergalactic Cooperation Academy. From now on you will simply refer to me as Staff. Behind me is a group of ICA recruits ranking between N2 and N4 who will be overseeing your training. You are to obey their orders as if they came directly from me. You will address each of them simply as N."
He watched the actors, who were – at least in theory – supposed to be good at taking directions and following them exactly.
"This is your first day in the training camp, which will make you Marines of the human armed forces. This is not play pretend. You will be real Marines, with official military numbers, but retired from active duty, unless you decide to re-enlist in the future. The life of each Alliance recruit has always begun with an oath to the Corps and the Human Government. After that you belong to me. My voice will remain with you for the duration of this course and it will replace your own thoughts and wishes. Now, remember: due to the unusual circumstances of this situation you will not be permitted any communication with the outside world for the next three months. Consider it carefully. If you have anything on the outside that could interrupt your training, like a baby on the way or a father on his death bed, then turn around and leave now. There will be no judgement. This is your only chance to walk away."
He paused to give the actors some time to consider. After studying their dossiers he knew that nobody had any special circumstances as described, but he still had to give them a chance to walk away, as was the standard procedure. Just like he'd assumed, every actor stayed in place.
"Right, then. You will say your oath now. It goes like this: starting with the first row and going back in an S-line, each of you will first state your full real name. Then you will speak together the words that you can see on the screen on the wall behind me. After this is concluded, you will be official recruits at this facility. Proceed," he pointed at the first person in the first row. They obeyed and followed his instructions, swearing an oath of loyalty to human military forces and to the government. The text was a regular military oath and ended with the words "So God help me."
"Very well. Now listen closely and remember. For the next three months I own your hides in more senses than you yet realise. If you think that you can fake your way through this and then go back to your cozy life as if nothing was the matter, I assure you, it is not so. Each of you has a contract with Multistars. That obliges you to take part in this training. However, not all of you will make it to the end. Multistars agreed to one condition. From now on I hold each of your contracts in my hands. Everyone who doesn't make it through the training will be let go and their contract with the studio will be terminated." James enjoyed the shocked whispers that rose above the lines of people. "Furthermore, your success in this facility will have direct impact on the role you'll be playing in the upcoming vids. You each have tried for some role and most have already been assigned something specific, but that is all going to change. It's all in my hands now. The better you do in training, the larger role you will get in the vid. Some of you might even get to say a line. Multistars has agreed to it to add a little twist and give you better motivation. I promise you, the next three months will be extremely difficult. This is your chance to show the world what kind of people you are and if you love your job as much as I love mine."
He paused once again, letting the news sink in and letting Kiras catch their faces on cameras for the viewers. It was somewhat strange to constantly keep Kiras and his demands in mind, but James knew he would get used to it soon.
"Your successes and failures will be translated into points. Your scores will always be visible on a screen right inside the barracks. Ns and I will evaluate each of you regularly and decide who will have to leave the camp. Admittedly, this system was implemented to make it easier for the viewers to keep up with the show. Separately from that there will be a viewer popularity score, which people from Multistars will be keeping out there in the civilian world. I don't give a rat's ass how cute your eyelashes are or how chiseled your manly jaw is. Viewer popularity will have zero effect on my decision if I decide to toss you out. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Staff," the actors spoke up, deflated.
"Now, to your orientation. There are thirteen teams, each assigned a colour. You are wearing a chevron of your team's colour on your chests. Remember where you belong and be ready to say your military number and your team's name even if woken up in the middle of the night. Each team will be supervised by two Ns, who will stay with you for the duration. They will tell you and show you everything you need to know about addressing your superiors, about proper conduct and regulations, about legalities of the military service, about personal hygiene and the proper way to keep your belongings in perfect condition. Heed their words, because starting tomorrow, every morning there will be an inspection, most by the Ns and one lucky team – personally by me. Ns will explain to you what that entails and how to pass it. Failed inspections will have severe consequences."
James saw that their faces were beginning to set into cold masks. The reality of being captured and locked up at the mercy of a hardass leader was starting to sink in.
"The first week of your training will be pure physical exercise and theoretical courses on armour, weapons and safety regulations. In your second week you will be given your first weapons and sets of armour. However, any ammunition you will get within these walls will be non-lethal. At no point will you have access to live ammo. If you follow instructions, then nobody should get killed or injured. I rely on your common sense to stay safe. However, this is the last time that I'm speaking to you like you are individual people. Of course, a stupid Marine is a dead Marine. You have to be smart. But first and foremost you need to remember that you are now one body, moving together. Individual thought is not encouraged. Your goal is to follow orders. Nothing else matters. Certain things you will have to repeat over and over until you can do them in your sleep. You will have to do brainless tasks over and over, until you're blue in the face. You will have to do seemingly pointless things, frustrating things, unpleasant things. Of course, there is always method behind the madness, but information is on a need to know basis. Grunts like you do not need to know, get used to that. All you have to do is follow orders. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Staff." The chorus sounded resigned.
"And if you think that Commander Moreau didn't have to do stupid shit like that, then, by all means, look at the screen. Recognise anyone?"
The screen behind him started playing a vid. It showed a security camera footage from another boot camp a long time ago. James had personally begged Jo's permission to show this to the public. On screen a group of twenty Marine recruits was running their rounds along the paved pathways crisscrossing a standard training facility. A drill instructor was watching them, giving them the rhythm and verbally abusing the ones falling behind. Running first, easily and steadily, nearly six meters ahead of the runner-up, was a small, skinny figure with light, chin-long hair tied in a ponytail in the back. The group had to come pretty close to the camera for the viewers to finally recognize that the skinny figure was actually a girl. She carried herself like a man, moved like a man and managed to hide her feminine curves under the standard uniform so well that her gender was barely discernible at a certain distance.
"Oh my god!" Gasps of shock and awe came from the actors.
"That's really Commander Shepard!"
"There's footage of her boot camp days? That's worth billions!"
James smiled. He already had to listen to Kiras' breathless tirade of gratitude for providing the show with such rare and desirable vid material. The actors were suitably impressed. Indeed, the girl on the screen was Johanna Shepard, age eighteen, running ahead, separately from her fellow recruits.
"Next vid shows you two weeks later, after the Commander became the squad leader," James said and the vid on the screen changed. It was still the same running exercise along the same pathways, the same squad and the same drill instructor barking at them. However, this time there was a very tall, black-skinned young man in the lead. The boyish figure of Jo Shepard became visible at the very end of a long-stretched line of runners. She wasn't running, she simply walked next to the very last recruit. That one, a cute, curvaceous, dark-haired girl, seemed to be completely out of breath, falling far behind, barely able to even walk. Everyone observed how Jo leaned closer to the girl and spoke softly. Her words couldn't be heard, but the girl shied away with horror in her face, stumbled and fell. Jo stopped next to her and said something else. The girl on the ground whimpered. The drill instructor stopped barking orders and came closer. The dark haired girl looked over at him with plea in her eyes, but he simply watched, interested in the outcome. Jo lifted her foot and kicked the other girl in the hip, unexpectedly and painfully.
All actors fell very silent. Kiras' cameras were catching the horror in their faces as they watched Jo kick her fellow recruit until the other girl finally found the strength to get up and run again – even if only to get away from Jo. After a little while she caught up with the second-last runner and passed him. Now he was the last one – if one didn't count Jo, who jogged up to the unfortunate guy and said something to him. The young man, wisened up by what had just happened with the girl, clenched his teeth, wiped his deathly pale face and ran. Faster. As fast as a person can when death is breathing down their neck.
"Would you like to know what she's saying to those guys?" James asked the actors. "What it is that sends them running away from her like that?"
There were nods from many shocked faces.
"It's the same thing she said to me when she started training me. 'I will kill you myself if you don't shape up.'"
The collective gulp was loud in the silence.
"Now, have a look at this final vid, taken towards the end of her time at the boot camp."
The screen showed the same set-up, but the differences were fantastic. There was no longer any drill instructor in sight. The same group of Marines ran their course. However, this time Jo was leading again and the rest of them were clustered right behind her in a close formation, instead of the spread-out line of gasping corpses. These recruits were no longer half-dead bodies barely surviving the brutal training. Each of them had his or her assigned spot in the formation. They ran about three times faster than they had in the first vid and showed no signs of fatigue. The sound of their boots hitting the ground was so tight that it sounded like one person running. Their movements were in perfect synch and no one was better or worse than the others.
Jo's strong voice called out a command and the entire group dropped to the ground as one. A few seconds later Jo called out again and the group jumped up to continue running. Next command sent them into a bit of a disarray until they assumed a different formation. The training continued beautifully as Jo kept calling out commands, having effectively replaced the drill instructor, and her squad followed her every word with practiced ease. The most beautiful thing in James' eyes was that Jo was also following her own commands, going through training just like the rest of her team.
The vid ended and once again there was silence. The actors were now completely and utterly speechless.
"This is what I want to see, recruits. Progress. Commander Moreau managed to whip everyone in her squad into shape. None of them quit and they became one body, following orders precisely, with no delay. It's beautiful, isn't it? She didn't lose any recruits in her time. I don't have to be so gracious with you. I'll gladly send home anyone who doesn't shape up. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Staff."
"Disappear," he barked. The unfamiliar order sent the actors running around like cockroaches, trying to find the next hiding spot. They would soon learn how to follow this order correctly. For now, Kiras would be extremely pleased with everything his cameras had caught. Garrus, Gilla and others were probably wrapping up their instruction speeches as well. James turned and walked inside the building, his job for the day done in full. The rest of the day's schedule belonged to the Ns.
In the evening he was back at the station and sitting at The Bar along with all his friends and many recruits, ready to watch the show. Kiras and his team kept a steady stream of everything happening live, which could be accessed easily on the extranet, but several big channels freed a special spot for every day's highlights in their evening program for the larger public to see. The first day's summary was to be presented and the viewer numbers were fantastic by all accounts.
Just like Kiras had predicted, the vids of Jo's boot camp days, which James had shown his new recruits, were a megahit. To do them justice, Kiras focused this day's summary on the human actors. At the end of the hour-long episode he placed a few interviews. Earlier that day Kiras had sat James down for a little talk and now the public could see the edited final result, which appeared more like James' monologue:
"Nearly everything in this boot camp is exactly the way it used to be when I first joined the Alliance. The uniforms, the accommodations, the training schedule – it's all standard. Except when I entered the boot camp nobody showed me inspirational vids of Commander Moreau. These guys should be motivated like no other batch of recruits before them. We'll see how well that serves them.
I'm here to make Marines out of them. Not actors who can convincingly pretend to be Marines – real Marines. It will be hard for most of them. The best age for a recruit is barely legal. When you're eighteen, your body can be abused day after day and you recover come morning. Many of these actors are middle-aged, some even elderly. They will have a much tougher time keeping up with the physical side of the training.
"There is also the mental side to be considered. In the military, we do things a certain way because experience shows that it's efficient. All recruits first have to forget how they used to do things, and then learn our way. Even simple things – how to make their beds, how to get dressed, how to brush their teeth. In the military, we have no household mechs doing our stuff for us. We polish our own boots and do our own laundry. We clean our own toilets and wipe away the muddy boot prints when it's raining outside. People have to learn those skills because it's necessary in the field. On every spaceship there are people who cook and clean and do laundry. And when there's an alarm, soldiers have to get up, get dressed and suited up for battle within minutes. We teach all recruits how to do that efficiently. Your life and your entire spaceship can sometimes depend on how fast you can dress. I'm here to teach all recruits how to do that. How to become one with the rest of the crew.
"A lot of it has to do with discipline and self-discipline. I'm not here to needlessly torture them, even though if it will seem so a lot. I'm here to show them that they have more potential in them than they think they have. They will moan and cuss and complain, but they will constantly have examples in front of them of how far self-discipline can get them: the Ns who will be training them. Every N helping me with this boot camp has accepted the military standard way and keeps to it even after boot camp. We have standard uniforms and beds at the station, too. We have a regulated exercise routine, bone crushing training and nutritious food that often tastes like rubber. But we chose to do it. In the next months you will notice how different the Ns are form the fresh recruits. They are mentally there, they have the self-discipline. They learned to love it and they love to live it. My Ns make me proud. We shall see if my new recruits have it in them to make me proud, too."
His own interview was followed by another one that James hadn't known about before. With great interest he saw Valentino Mendez, wearing his new recruit uniform with a yellow chevron on his chest. His interview, too, was edited like a monologue, and while nearly everyone else at The Bar began speculating whether or not Mr Mendez looked like Mr Vega, James listened with interest to what the man had to say:
"I'm an actor, I've never thought about being a Marine. Hell, when I went to school I was a skinny guy nobody wanted on their team, and the other kids on my apartment block used to call me Teeny Tino. It was only after school, when I started working on my resume, that I hit the gym and gained nearly twenty kilograms of muscle. I'm still an actor, though, I've never held a real gun.
"When Reapers hit Earth, I was in a studio, filming a series of short vids for colonization recruitment offices. I'm not going to lie, I never did anything heroic during the war. The Reapers never came to Multistars' studio planet. Maybe the population density wasn't enough for them to take notice of us, I don't know. Some of us tried to contact the Alliance, but a lot of us were unfit for duty because of some medical condition or other, and the Alliance decided not to organize a transport for the few who could join. They told us instead to take care of refugees they would send our way. So that's what we did. We guided several dozen of refugee ships to us and helped settle them in hotels Multistars usually provides for guests. Once we had some ships that could transport a larger number of people, we even answered some distress calls in the nearby systems. I'm afraid that's all the war effort I can call my own.
"I will not pretend to be a hero. The Normandy crew – they are the real heroes. It is humbling to me as an actor and as the citizen of the freshly saved galaxy to have the chance to play one of the most prominent figures in human military today. Staff Commander Vega is a legend in his own right. When Multistars announced that Commander Moreau wanted the actors to go through this training camp, I volunteered, even though they told me I would be needed soon to record some scenes with Marina Kruglova. But I wanted to be here. I realized that I couldn't look at myself in the mirror and say: I'm just an actor, I've never held a real gun before, but I'm playing a prominent military figure. That felt like an insult to Commander Moreau and everything she's done for this galaxy.
"I came here to become more than an actor. I'm no longer Teeny Tino, but even I don't know what I'm really capable of. Maybe this camp will help me find strength inside me that I didn't have before. Maybe I'll become someone who can help, who can do something in a crisis, not just wait for others to save the world. I'll do my very best not to be kicked out, of course, but that feels like doing the bare minimum. No, I want to do all I can to be among the best. I know that my body will be tested in ways I can't even imagine yet, but I'm sure most of the training will be mental. And there is the added bonus of getting to observe Staff Commander Vega in real life. Not many actors in epic vids get that kind of a chance. Even Ms Kruglova won't get to spend so much time around Commander Moreau!"
James was surprised by the man's admission of not being active in the war. In light of the hype caused by the upcoming Shepard Epic it had recently become fashionable to overplay one's accomplishments, however small they had been. Obviously, Multistars had given their okay to Valentino Mendez's statement. Were they trying to reach all audiences by introducing a man who hadn't been a hero before but had a chance to become one now? If so, it was a smart move. After the viewers saw what Marine training entailed, Mendez would become quite the hero.