Prologue
Eden Prime
Slade Jordan was a name everybody on Eden Prime knew very well. The man was an outcast, pariah, social reject, and these were just some of the NICER names he was called; more often to his face than behind his back. In Slade's mind however, the worst name he had ever been called in his life was "biotic". He absolutely despised the word, not only due to the fact that the entire colony always spat the word at him, but he was indeed a biotic and there was nothing he could do to change that. Slade would have given anything to change the fact that everyone automatically shunned him purely because of who he was. He did not choose to be a biotic, and receiving verbal abuse on a daily basis eventually breaks the mind. A lesser mind would have shattered a long time ago, succumbing to the constant hatred and segregation. Slade did not have a lesser mind and was determined not to let anyone break him; however, he was not invulnerable to abuse. Regardless of how strong he pushed himself to be, he had still allowed the abuse to make him feel different. He had still allowed the abuse to stop him from using any of his biotic potential, even to do something as simple as lift a glass of water. He had still allowed the abuse to make him wish he was never born. He had still allowed the abuse to give rise to his suicidal depression. The only thing that kept Slade going was his iron will and perseverance to ensure nobody would break him; unfortunately, as much as he tried to deny it, Slade WAS broken.
God damn it. DAMN IT. Not again.
It was another average day on Eden Prime, and Slade somehow did not find it surprising when he heard a metallic slam behind him. He turned around to look at the entrance to the warehouse and saw that the large steel doors were now shut.
For fuck's sake, this is getting old. Nevermind, this IS old. This got old after the 500th time they did it. Now it's just a lazy fucking prank.
Slade knew he only had a few moments before the warehouse Virtual Intelligence detected the warehouse was locked and would begin the process of powering down the building. He briskly walked over to the large doors knowing with full confidence that it was DEFINITELY locked. Slade hit the pressure release button and was met with silence. He knew his efforts would be in vain but he reached up to the manual override and activated it; alas, nothing happened. Slade knew there was no point yelling. The concrete that encased the warehouse was too thick for anyone to hear him - not that anyone would listen - but it worked to his benefit as well because he could not hear the laughter and taunts either.
It was worth a try. Damn it why do I keep doing that? Hoping something will be different every time. I know it won't be. Well except for that one time it worked. Pfft, definitely a one time thing. I'm definitely not that lucky.
Slade tiredly sighed and walked over to the corner of the warehouse next to the VI mainframe and did not even react when the lights shut off halfway there. This had happened so many times that he was completely immune to the shock of sudden darkness. Slade arrived at the VI console next to the mainframe and booted it up. A blue hologram of a man in gentleman's attire manifested itself in front of him.
"How may I assist you?" the VI asked politely. Slade flinched; not because of the appearance of the VI, but due to the fact he was shocked to hear a kind, warm and soothing voice that he was so unaccustomed to hearing. In fact, the VI was the only thing on the entire planet that actually spoke to Slade without managing to insult him in the process.
"Turn on the lights", Slade ordered. "Please."
"I am sorry Mr. Jordan, I am unable to do that", replied the VI. "The system admin has labeled you as a 'biotic freak' and I am unable to comply to any of your commands. However, I may perform basic commands built into my operating system. Would you like me to outline precisely what you may command me to do?"
Again, why the fuck do I keep hoping? I already knew word for word what he was going to tell me. I'm an idiot, just cuz the update thing worked once doesn't mean it'll work again. I AM NOT THAT LUCKY.
The VI hologram shut off as Slade walked into the corner behind the mainframe, plunging him into darkness once again. This had happened so many times that he just accepted situations like this as an eventuality and decided to prepare accordingly instead of crying and complaining. Only once had the VI actually obeyed Slade's commands and not only managed to shock him by opening the warehouse doors, but also shocked the entire staff. As Slade ran out of the warehouse he was met by laughs and insults.
"How the hell did you manage to get out?! I programmed the VI not to listen to biotic freaks!" Powell had yelled. It had never happened again after that one occasion. Powell had made sure never to let the VI listen to Slade. Eventually - after countless times of being locked in the warehouse by Powell or one of the others - Slade discovered if the VI program was ever updated, it temporarily lost all programming changes and would indeed listen to Slade; however, Powell would quickly become aware of this and reprogram the VI immediately after an update. Slade apparently always had hope that if he was lucky enough, the VI would update without Powell finding out. Unfortunately, Slade did not receive a stroke of luck after the first incident and was always locked in the pitch black warehouse.
Slade reached into the corner behind the VI mainframe and pulled a small backpack out. He placed it on the floor in front of him and began to unpack it. Slade knew whenever he was locked in - which was almost everyday - he would be stuck inside the warehouse for a couple of hours until the nightshift arrived to open the doors. It was not by choice, they simply needed to get into the warehouse. The night shift was not any happier to see Slade than the day shift who locked him inside was. Slade pulled a thin blanket out of the backpack, followed by a worn cushion, a bottle of water, a ration bat, a flashlight and a small book. He placed everything on the floor around him except the book, which he treated with the utmost care. It was a novel his mother gave to him after he was old enough to read it himself and no longer needed her to read it to him. It was called The Dragon Age and it had been read so many times that it looked centuries old and on the verge of crumbling into dust. The hardcover binding was so worn out and scratched anyone else would not be able to make out the illustration of the dragon on the front. Slade took the flashlight in his other hand and activated it, using his newfound light to gaze upon his most prized procession. He did not have an omnitool - this was a colony which meant he would have to requisition one - and nobody on the planet would ever give him his own omnitool. Slade had no access to the extranet or any other form of electronic entertainment, which meant this book was his only form of passing the time without staring into the dark abyss around him, counting the seconds that passed by. Slade opened the book and longingly gazed down at the inside of the front cover.
For my irreplaceable son, Slade. I give this book to thee so that you may always chase dragons and magic. Never allow anyone to tell you what is real and what is not. You must decide for yourself. I love you now and always. - Mom
Slade had learned over countless years of emotional torture not to cry, as it only made everyone more happy to see him in pain. He learned never to display anything that could make him appear weak because it would only fuel the hatred his spectators already had. This small message from his late mother was the only thing left that could make him cry. He was always careful to guide his tears away from the page. Slade could not imagine the pain of losing the only piece of paper left in the galaxy that still bore his mother's immaculate handwriting. He proceeded to read the novel he had read so many times before, not only savouring the excellent literature but his memories of his mother as well. Slade knew by the time he read the entire book twice, the nightshift would be scheduled to arrive and open the warehouse.
Slade closed his favourite book after reading it cover to cover twice and packed away all his belongings back into the backpack. He hid it back into his hiding place in the corner because he knew if he ever walked outside with it, he would be attacked and robbed. Slade could not even remember how he snuck it into the warehouse in the first place. He sat down on the cool floor and waited for the night shift to arrive. An abnormal amount of time passed that made Slade uneasy.
Weird. They're taking their sweet time. They should have been here by now.
Slade called out to the VI, but there was no answer. Slade was about to call out again, but he fell to the ground in agony before he could get a word out. Excruciating pain penetrated his skull to the point where he was instinctively banging his fists against his head in a vain attempt to knock himself unconscious. His mind was completely engulfed by all consuming agony and all he could hear was an ear piercing screech. Slade could not think, he could not feel and he could not talk over the obnoxiously loud ringing in his ears. He writhed in agony for a few more moments that felt like an eternity, then went limp and knew no more.