Dread and something akin to failure filled Anderson's chest as the crew of the SSV Hastings landed on Mindoir. His boots sank into a mixture of fresh snow and the ruins of homes and he tried to focus on the task at hand: save anyone they could. Instead of the sound that one normally associated with pandemonium, they were met with silence and corpses. The possibility that they didn't make it in time to save a single person weighed heavily on them and made this winter storm seem to settle in their bones.
His commander seemed to be feeling similar to Anderson, barking out,
"Fan out, I want to be damn sure there is no one out here still alive before we pack up".
Anderson and his unit were assigned to northeast quadrant of the colony. Mostly rural land, several farms, though few animals seemed to have escaped the massacre. Anderson signaled for his unit to sweep the houses and the surrounding areas. It was a nightmare, citizens killed in their own homes, no warning and little to no defense. He noted that there were no children or teenagers and very little young adults among the remains, which probably meant that the bastards who did this were slavers. Just the thought made his blood boil.
He made his way to the back of the small farm house he was checking and was hit by an arctic breeze, the back door stood slightly ajar, inching back and forth in the winter gusts. Small and messy footprints littered the ground, indicative of someone who must have been running. Determined, he quietly signaled to the other two members of his squad that were with him, Parks and Molinero, to follow him.
They followed the wild pattern of footprints through the woods that stood behind the farmhouse.
The woods here were made of strange smooth trees that stood like tall sentinels overlooking their search; he held his gun close as he slowly made his way through the dense foliage. They walked at least a mile, still tracking the footprints, when, above the crunching of the snow beneath his boots he heard rustling. He stopped, aiming his weapon and signaling to Parks and Molinero to flank him and said clearly,
"Alliance, come out with your hands raised."
They waited in a tense silence, their breath falling from them in thick clouds from the cold. A girl, no more than 14 he guessed, peeked around the trees. Her eyes were a deep blue that almost seemed to glow in the brightness of the snow. Her wavy hair was a blonde mess of leaves and tangles, she had no coat and her boots seemed to have been hastily thrown on, not fastened or tied. The look she gave him the few precious seconds that their eyes met took his words away, brimming with a devastation she shouldn't ever know. He had no idea what to say to this girl who had lost, literally, her whole world.
Not giving him much time to ponder, he watched those haunted eyes turn cold and literally glow a deep indigo as she took in the scene of three men aiming weapons at her and she sent a biotic throw that blasted him off of his feet and into a tree several feet away and fled.
Goddamnit.
"Anderson!"
He could only gasp, white and black dots threatening to take his vision. How was she strong enough to have thrown him that far and hard? How old was she?
Finally catching his breath he accepted the hand that Molinero offered and righted himself.
He ran fast, his strides weren't the discipled ones of his training but hectic ones brought on by adrenaline and need. Every time he heard a branch snap or saw a footprint from her quick and clumsy feet it was hope of saving something from this mess. After what seemed like eons and then only seconds, he saw her across from a clearing. Chest heaving, she met his eyes, a look of defiance etched into her face. Her biotics flared but seemed to quiver and he guessed she was losing energy, fast.
Anderson's gun mutely fell into the snow as he raised his hands, surrendering to that small proud jaw.
"My name is David Anderson, I'm a Lieutenant for the alliance. We were called in"
He paused. To help? To save you? He sighed, pushing past his own anger at their failure and continued.
"We're not here to hurt you. Let us help you."
He waited with bated breath as she slowly processed that, he could hear Molinero and Parks shift uneasily behind him. Her biotics gave one last flicker and then the indigo aura surrounding her disappeared. Looking exhausted, her slender frame seemed to slowly collapse in on itself as she sagged under her energy use and loss.
Anderson slowly approached, tone gentle,
"We need to get you out of here, I'm going to take you to my ship."
She stared at the snow.
"Was...there anyone else?"
Her voice was so small and detached, like she was afraid to be too hopeful. He hated that he had to answer this, that he had to tell her that her world was gone; destroying any last hope she had of her life surviving.
"You're the first I've seen," he said honestly and carefully.
She nodded and folded in on herself a little more. She was so small, too
young.
Parks coughed and then asked, "Should we call for a pick-up?"
"No, the Forrest is too dense. We have to get back to the house first," Molinero answered, looking at Anderson for orders.
Anderson nodded and then looked at the girl, "The ship is quite a ways from here, I'll arrange a pick-up, but we'll still have to walk out of the forest, at least a couple of miles. Will you be okay to walk?"
She nodded again and straightened up, faltering and almost collapsing after only a few steps. Her eyes looked like they were barely staying open and it was getting dark quickly.
"How about I carry you?"
She scrutinized him and almost seemed to reject the idea, but seeing no other options, let him pick her up.
It didn't take long for her eyes to droop and flutter, but before she slipped under completely, he had to know.
"What's your name?"
Her eyes half-heartedly slid open. Analyzing him and then losing interest as sleep became eminent, she whispered "Shepard." Losing the battle with exhaustion, she didn't last long enough to notice how uncomfortable it was.
Meeting up with the rest of his unit, they got a transport back to the ship. The ride was somber, the weight of failure and the cruel destruction sitting uncomfortably on them all. Sighing, he looked down at the one person he was able to help. He decided right then, as he took in her fragile and battered form, that he was not going to let this happen to her again.
Something about this situation grated on him, he joined the alliance to help people, to save them from injustices like this. Not only that, but also these colonies were supposed to be a symbol of successful expansion for humanity, a symbol of hope. Or maybe it was just her; her determination and strength in the face of tragedy and pain. She was a survivor, and for some reason that he couldn't exactly place, he needed to ensure that Shepard kept on surviving.