Right, so here goes. My first fan-fiction 'Promises Made, Promises Kept' did well. Better than I expected, in all honesty. I'm no wordsmith, my writing is rather simple, but I hope to at least develop interesting characters and tell a good story nonetheless.

So, having completed that, I thought I may as well start at the beginning.

If you've read 'Promises', you'll know what the eventual romance will be. If you haven't, then you'll find out.

In truth, I've done this all back to front. Should have written these three first before my first story. Kind of hamstrung myself, as well, considering I wrote 'Promises' based on the first three games. I'll see what I can do going forward regarding originality.

Going for something different to what I've read in other stories regarding Shepard as being Earth-born. Hoping I can pull off what I'm hoping regarding his character. I dropped some hints throughoutt 'Promises'.

Rated M. Shepard is a soldier, so there will be language (not quite Jack levels). Bit of violence too. No sexual content will be in this first prequel.

As a final thing, I should say, Bioware own all characters etc from Mass Effect.

Enjoy!

Space.

Once known as 'the final frontier'.

The dark, empty void that had captivated humanity since the days that prehistoric man had first stumbled out of caves and looked into the sky. It had stirred the imaginations of humanity as the night, almost daily, revealed billions of objects, stars, planets and systems. Poems, literatures, songs, they all waxed lyrical of the wonders of space. Yet it always lead to the one question humanity was always left asking:

Were we alone in the galaxy?

That question would also take thousands of years to answer. First, humanity had to escape the confines of Earth. In the middle of the 20th Century, man had taken its first fleeting steps off the home-world. It had, at the time, been 'one giant leap for mankind'. But, as events unfolded during the 21st Century and onwards, it was soon proven that humanity had so much more to learn. And that walking on the moon, and later Mars, were small steps for mankind indeed.

The discovery of alien artefacts on Mars in the middle of 22nd Century answered one important question. Humanity may not be alone in the galaxy. Someone had, at one time, been watching events unfold on Earth.

Who were they? What did they want? Had they ever visited Earth?

That discovery caused an explosion in scientific progress, matching everything humanity had discovered in the preceding 10,000 years combined, and the eventual discovery of a mass relay. The next few years led to humanity exploring the stars, finding numerous worlds that may be capable for human exploration and habitation. Opportunities for humanities progression were everywhere.

In 2157, humanity found out it was definitely not alone. And the galaxy was indeed a dangerous place. A brief conflict that humanity called 'The First Contact War', with a race that would soon reveal themselves as the turians, almost led to full-scale conflict with an alien species. This crisis was avoided when the Citadel Council revealed itself to humanity, and once and for all, humanity discovered that they were part of an interstellar galactic community.

Since that first contact, humanity had been slowly but surely integrated itself into the galactic community. Many races were impressed with the speed and scope of humanity's progression. Others, who had been on the scene far longer, were left concerned at their own position. At times, it had caused friction with races already members of the wider community, but on the whole, it was a peaceful transition.

The one question left was:

What was still out there to discover?

EARTH

The young man stood outside the building that housed the Alliance recruiting office. He had been stood there, staring at the electronic advertisement, for at least five minutes. Probably longer. He'd have checked the time, if he had a watch. The occasional passer-by gave him no more than a cursory glance before moving on.

The young man was used to being ignored. In some ways, it had helped him survive. In other ways, it made him feel incredibly alone. He had always been alone. Always felt alone. His thoughts immediately turned to his life so far.

He knew he'd been abandoned by whoever had given birth to him. He had figured out that while growing up in the orphanage. While life wasn't unpleasant at the orphanage, not like the vids he had seen from the 20th Century, or the old-time novels he had read like Charles Dickens, at least it was a place that provided a roof over his head, food in his belly, a warm bed at night and clothing on his back. But it certainly didn't provide things like the love and affection like any child craves. Although he never lacked for material goods, he felt lonely and unloved. The people who ran the orphanage were nice enough, but he always felt like a burden. Just another task to complete. A job.

So he ran away once he reached his teenage years. Even now, standing there outside the building, he thought it was a stupid thing to do. The streets were harsh and unforgiving, certainly for a kid who had spent years coddled away from the world. He found himself ever lonelier for a time, struggling to survive. Eventually he found himself adopted by some form of gang. In his mind, it was a means to an end. At least he had a roof over his head once again, usually had food in his belly and at least he had people to be around again. But he had never let them get close, despite how alone he felt. To begin with, he thought it had always been a matter of mere survival for why they had banded together.

Over time, he came to realise he was just as unhappy being part of this gang as he was at the orphanage. He came to know most of the members quite well, and found they were far from just a bunch of ruffians who happened to live on the streets. Some turned to serious crime to survive, more than just the pickpocketing and light stealing that many of them committed. Others were dealing drugs and benefitting from the misery of others. Then there were the xenophobes, who preached all manner of anti-alien doctrine to anyone who was a member, who they blamed for all the ills of the world. He felt even more like an outsider as time went by, as he never agreed with the more outrageous crimes that were being committed. He wanted to do more with his life than simply exist and survive. He certainly wanted more than what he was experiencing with that life.

He set his mind. When he turned 18, things would change.

He turned his mind back to the present, looking up as the advertisement continued to shine. Its words clear:

WOULD YOU LIKE TO EXPLORE THE GALAXY?

JOIN THE ALLIANCE NAVY TODAY!

Pictured on the advertisement was a spaceship. The young man didn't know which sort. It appeared to be heading towards something he did know.

A mass relay.

Everyone knew what a mass relay was. Their discovery had been one of the greatest events in human history. The mass relays had allowed humanity to reach beyond their own system. To finally explore the stars. And humanity found out they were no longer alone in the galaxy.

The young man continued to stare. Thinking. Mulling over his options. He wanted off Earth. He wanted to escape. He wanted to do something with his life. He wanted to explore the stars. Explore the galaxy. There was surely something out there, better than his current existence.

With a simple nod to himself, he walked in through the front door of the building.

What other option do I have? It's either serve the Alliance or eventually die here on the streets.

The young man walked up to the buildings receptionist. She looked up as he approached. A look of disdain crossed her face, albeit briefly, before she gave a small grin.

"How may I help you, young man?"

"Which floor is the Alliance Recruitment office, ma'am?"

"10th floor. Take one of the elevators to your right. They will take you straight there."

"Thanks, ma'am."

The receptionist gave another brief smile before returning to her work. The young man walked over to the elevator and ascended to the 10th floor. The doors opened and the young man was surprised to find the reception of the recruitment office relatively quiet. A blue wall was in front of him, the Alliance insignia painted in the middle. Above the insignia, a small vid-screen, displaying more advertisements.

The young man looked around the office. A closed door, he assumed which led further in the building. There was little else, a few seats against two of the walls. The occasional pot plant. One or two smaller tables with datapads. Directly in front of him, sat behind a desk, a young receptionist. She was brunette, dressed in an Alliance uniform, definitely in her early 20's. She had looked up when he entered, and was now waiting for him to approach. He walked and stood in front of her.

"Good morning. How can I help you today?" she asked, with a smile.

"I'd like to sign-up, ma'am," replied the young man.

"Good. That's great. Please, take a seat over there," as she indicated, with a hand gesture, to one of the seats along the wall, "And a recruitment officer will be with you shortly. And, please, take these datapads with you. They are full of information about the Alliance, the recruitment process and further details you may be interested in finding out."

The young man simply nodded, took both datapads, and walked over to take a seat. He had been sat for a few minutes, reading the information, when the closed door he had originally noticed, opened, and a tall man, dressed in Alliance uniform, walked through and approached him. "Good morning. So you would like to join the Alliance Navy?"

The young man stood, nodding his head. "Yes, sir. I would."

"Excellent," as the officer held out a hand, the young man raising his to shake it, "Please, follow me to my office. We'll start taking your details and get the process underway."

The young man followed, as the recruitment officer turned and walked through the door. Now the usual sounds of an office entered his ears. The general hub-bub of a working area. There were numerous men and women, all dressed in Alliance uniform, either sat at workstations, or walking quickly around the partitioned cubicles. Others were stood in pairs or groups at various points, deep in conversation. Along the walls were numerous vid-screens, showing either the same advertisements he had seen outside, or showing one of many news channels available on the extranet.

The young man followed the officer until he came to a smaller room. The officer walked around the desk, and took a seat. He indicated to the seat in front of him. "Please, take a seat."

The young man looked around the relatively spartan office before sitting down. The recruitment officer took out a datapad.

"Okay, we'll just start with some basic information. Firstly, what's your name?"

"John William Shepard."

ELYSIUM

Smoke rose from the shattered buildings, windows smashed, others falling to rubble. Craters, created by the mortar fire, were filled by water, rubble, and the bodies of the civilians who had not made it to shelter in time. The survivors wandered around, most had a dazed look in their eyes, disbelieving they had survived such an onslaught. Soldiers, who had arrived to relieve the defenders of Elysium, marched around with the intent to ensure the city, and the colony as a whole, was secured.

The defenders were now at rest. One such soldier, Lieutenant John Shepard, was leaning against a make-shift barricade. A bloody knife, the only weapon he retained after the hours of brutal fighting, was still in his hand. His borrowed armour was pock-marked with holes.

It was coloured black.

And red.

He was sure he'd been shot at least twice, but at the moment, there was no pain. The medi-gel was working wonders. An Alliance medic was currently leaning over him, working on another wound to his arm. He could hear the medic talking, but at the moment, nothing was going in.

He simply stared ahead.

He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep forever.

He was surrounded by bodies. Most were of the enemy. The majority appeared to be batarian, though there were some humans, and a few other races he didn't particularly take note of. Behind the barricade against which he was leaning, bodies littered the street.

The invaders.

They had been cut down as they ran, a suicidal run towards his position.

In the skies above, Alliance ships patrolled. The invasion force, which had arrived with such surprise, had been utterly decimated. Barely any of the invasion force had managed to escape. They had arrived unprepared for the defensive shield that surrounded Elysium, and did not account for the fire-power of Alliance warships. It has been almost too easy, enemy ships being picked off with ease.

Shooting fish in a barrel.

The ground battle, though, had been a different affair. It had been brutal. It had been relentless. And it had been bloody. Yet the men and women of Elysium did not falter in their defence. Hundreds had fallen where they stood along the wall, and in the streets, defending their homes, their families, and their lives. But the defenders had endured.

Stood tall.

Stood strong.

And survived.

Single-handedly, Shepard had stopped an incursion in one section of the defensive wall. If that had fallen, it is likely his entire sector would have fallen to the invaders. Chaos and death would have ensued throughout the city. Manning a fixed machine gun, Shepard had cut down the invaders as they ran towards his position. He thought it was sheer madness. It was suicide. Yet, even during the time, he had to admire their bravery, as they ran to their inevitable death. The invaders had little choice. They could look up into the sky to see their own way home was lost. They lacked that one important ingredient that any fighting man requires.

Hope.

He could sense that the other sectors were holding, the defenders of Elysium were standing their ground, unwilling to give an inch. Alone, he continued his fight. The machine gun eventually faltered, his assault rifle overheated, cooked and useless. Soon it was hand to hand. There were not many invaders left, at least not in his sector. In his mind, he could still see the four eyes of the last batarian he killed, as he drove the knife into his heart. He thought those would haunt him forever.

He said he was sorry as the batarian died in his arms.

He was unaware that the Alliance relief force had arrived, until they found him alone, sat against the barricade. His borrowed armour was black. He was caked in blood. Most of it was not his own. He didn't let go of the knife, even as soldiers approached, asking if he was okay. He barely heard the question, as he continued to stare straight ahead.

Eventually, Shepard felt hands grab him under his arms, lifting him from the ground. They were saying something, but the only sound he could hear in his ears were the constant screams, either of the invaders, or those of the defenders of Elysium, who had fallen to their deaths. He could see he was being led to an ambulance. They softly lowered him down onto a stretcher. Gently they opened his hand and took away the knife. He could feel the stretcher being lifted and moved.

He looked up at the sky as he was moved along. He wondered if he may die. To be honest with himself, that didn't concern him. Death was always possible in war. He had done his job. And had done it well. He had fought for himself. And had protected the innocent. Good enough, he thought. The sun shone in his eyes, rising above the horizon as another new day dawned. He figured he would probably live, at least for another day. Soon the stretcher on which he lay was placed in the back of a waiting ambulance, the doors closing quietly.

He finally slept.

A/N – So there we have the basis of my Shepard character, an Earth-born, war-hero.