Author Notes: So rather than a long story, I'm going to make a group of one-shots that would give some background to our favorite Commander: fem Shepard (in this case, Jo Shepard). The Shepard Files will thus consist of three separate stories (each one two chapters long, unless I decide to add a bonus to any of them). Each short story would be based on a background option bioware provides for Shepard. The index will go as follow:

[ONE] Colonist
[TWO] Colonist/Sole Survivor

[THREE] Spacer
[FOUR] Spacer/Ruthless

[FIVE] Earthborn
[SIX] Earthborn/War Hero

I hope that you enjoy this as much as I'm enjoying doing it. I think you'll notice I've taken some creative license. For those who would like to download this into your kindle there's a PDF aviliable at: gigi-fenixphoenix . deviantart/ # / d5ekxy7

The SHEPARD FILES

by: FenixPhoenix

[ O N E ]

Psychological Report: Colonist

Jo Shepard sits across two solemn officials. Though they're not wearing white coats, she knows exactly who and what they are. It's the glint in their eyes what gives them away. They don't see her as a person but as a mystery to unravel. So far, they know little detail of what befell her. Trauma has rendered her speechless since they'd retrieved her from the brunt remains of the Colony that used to be her home. That's what they think, anyways. Truth is, it's not trauma what has kept her from talking, but shame.

It doesn't help that Alliance personnel has kept her guarded from the outside world. She's been inside one of their bases back on earth, not daring to peer out the windows, not wishing to move forward in hopes that the past may remain frozen in a happier time. Jo knows it's a fruitless effort; an unattainable wish, yet she doesn't want to forget what happened and, as it incoherent as it sounds, she's not ready to acknowledge it either.

That's what brings these two men here. Their faces are new, but not those eyes; eyes that try to glimpse into her mind in hopes of finding what makes her tick -a trigger. They wouldn't call it that, of course. They call it a solution. Except, Jo knows there is no solution, there's only a trigger that if pressed prematurely would cause her to snap and plunge into the abyss of dementia. She knows it. She feels the craziness there, in a corner of her mind. A voice tempts her to step off her little ledge, but Jo ignores it. She's been ignoring it ever since she heard the first scream, a wail of agony followed by begs of mercy.

Of course, there's also another voice, one that Jo clings to. It's the voice of her mother, demanding that she not give up, reminding her that her life cost them theirs and, as such, she's not allowed to waste it. Jo is aware of her loss and it is precisely because of it, that she cannot acknowledge it. In order to live with some semblance of normality she needs to stay strong. In order to stay strong she needs to ignore her mistake, a mistake that changed -ended her life, a mistake that cannot be repeated.

"Post dramatic stress disorder," one of the men offers with a hum.

"I would have expected her to show signs of survivor's guilt as well," the other man says, typing something into his datapad. "She's shown little signs of being aware of her reality. Her previous doctors suggested that she might not even remember much of what she's gone through."

They talk as if she's not there. Jo knows she's not making their job any easier by keeping silent. The psychiatrists are trying to determine her mental state, trying to assess her emotional wounds. Jo doesn't want to know how deep they go, she doesn't even want to look at them because if she does...

"It says here she was found inside her house, two dead batarian slavers on the first floor. She had a smoking gun in hand and was covered in blood," the man with the datapad pauses, glances at his companion briefly, specifying, "human blood." He continues reading in a monotone, "Seems like the body of her brother was there as well, bullet wound to the head, entry wound at the front." He frowns and mumbles something, typing in his datapad. Satisfied, he goes on, "Parents' bodies were also found nearby, entry wounds at the back of both their heads," he turns to the other doctor and nods, "consistent with batarian execution style."

The first man, blond with blue eyes, finally looks at her, acknowledging her. He tilts his head in belated greetings, probably just realizing that she's as present mentally as she's physically for the first time.

"Hello, Jo, I'm Dr. Stensen and this is my associate Dr. Millman," he introduces.

He leans forward, entwining his hands, waiting for something, maybe acknowledgment. Jo nods in confirmation, at a loss as to what else to say. They already know her name so...

That seems to do the trick, because Dr. Stensen breaches the subject that brought them here. "Do you want to talk about what happened, Jo?"

Jo shrugs. It's not like she has a choice, not when she's been sitting inside this room for more than an hour. The psychiatrists had taken their sweet time to arrive. Jo had to wonder if this was a new tactic, given how their colleges had failed to extract even one word from her.

Dr. Stensen reaches out and places a hand on her arm. Jo looks at it, waiting for those fingers to expand and turn grey, like the coarse hands of batarian slavers. He squeezes reassuringly. His hand feels heavy, the contact feels alien, it burns, but she forces herself not to shy away from it.

Jo knows she's been running for far too long and she's grown tired... so friggin' tired. Though she cannot fully acknowledge the tragedy, she's ready to accept the sacrifice. She must pay tribute to those who fought and those who died. She must disclose as much as she can of what happened. But Jo is also aware that she must tread carefully, that she mustn't dive too deep and excavate too much. There are things that she cannot speak out loud for fear that the voice that asks for her company in the pit of despair would gain strength. She cannot go crazy, if only to keep her promise, to live to fight another day.

"They came... so fast," she starts haltingly. Her voice sounds weird. It's been a while since she'd used it. Her throat seems to resent her. It's dry and irritated.

Dr. Millman puts his datapad down and fills a glass with water. He pushes it towards her. Jo nods her thanks and drains half of it.

"When you're ready," Dr. Stensen says, squeezing her wrist a little.

"Their attack... it was deadly," Jo admits, one hand gripping the glass, the other trapped under the doctor's heavy hand. "One moment their ship was on the sky, the next it was on the ground, cargo doors opened, spitting six-eyed monsters out its innards."

She takes a moment to gather the strength to open the Pandora's box where she's shoved the memory. She hates how Dr. Stensen is looking at her, his interest naked and unwelcomed. He makes her feel like she's a test subject in a mad experiment that ends with the destruction of Jo Shepard, unlucky colonist of the Attican Traverse.

"What happened next?" Dr. Millman enquires with barely-contained politeness, his impatience obvious.

Jo realizes her pause stretched for longer than intended. She doesn't know whether her rising annoyance is prompted by Dr. Millman's lack of sympathy or by the weakness in her resolve. Regardless, she composes herself and throws open the metaphoric box.

"They came prepared, armed with weapons far superior to ours. Their metal clad bodies were impenetrable to our pickaxes, which-," she stops when she reads their confusion and tries to explains, "pickaxes were the only things close at hand. Our colony was... I guess you would call it rural?" She shrugs, unsure. "We worked the field..."

"We understand," Dr. Stensen assures.

Jo nods but doesn't go on. She feels uncomfortable, stupid even. She doesn't like how ignorant she's been up till this point. She had lived a sheltered life, uncaring about anything outside of her immediate surroundings. Now that she seen more of the world, now that she's seen Earth, she regrets how close minded she's been raised.

"Your Colony was a rural one," Dr. Millman says, looking up at her, dark eyes emotionless. "Your description is accurate."

Jo has mixed feelings. She's grateful for his reassurance, but his delivery rubs her the wrong way. She looks around the room, unhappy to find no even one window. She starts to feel claustrophobic, sweat coating her tingling arms. The man touching her squeezes. He knows, he can probably see her fear and uncertainty.

"Take your time," he advices. Clearly he's not in the same page as Dr. Millman.

Shepard drops her eyes, gazing at Dr. Stensen's wrinkled hand. She wants to pull back, to refuse his comfort, but she doesn't. It's time to unload part of the burden in her soul. It's time to face the world and start to move. Forward, always forward. One step back and she might fall into the pit.

"I remember... screams. There was a lot of screaming from the south part of the colony. I... I was with my brother, arguing over something." She shakes her head briskly, " "I don't remember what it was. It was probably something stupid. We always argued about stupid things... He thought he knew better than me…" her voice drops into a whisper, "He did."

Jo gulps when her brother materializes out of thin air, called forth by the memory. He's standing behind the doctors, looking at her with his dark, big brown eyes. His skin is no longer toasted dark; instead it's pale and translucent.

Jo knows he's not really there. She tells herself it's a figment of her imagination, a production of her guilt. Most times, though, he is so vivid in detail that she has to wonder if his spirit has somehow latched himself onto her. Rather than fright, he brings a mixture of comfort and discomfort. He's a constant reminder of her mistake, her lost of control. He's also a perpetual challenge to become strong enough to fight, to protect, to survive.

"Do you see someone there?" Dr. Millman asks, his interest obvious. His dark eyes had momentarily left his datapad to study her. Is he enjoying her torment?

Neither doctor care to glance behind them. They know there's no one in the room apart from the three of them. Jo shakes her head. If she tells them about Jarek Shepard, would they take him away? It's a risk she's unwilling to take. To keep her promise she cannot be caged inside a mental ward, under constant guard and medication. She has to pretend he's gone and, with little left to lose, she believes she can pull it off.

"I... I got lost in recollection," Jo excuses, half-shrugging and looking down.

She pulls her hand away from Dr. Stensen and brushes at her face. She takes advantage of the motion to brush at the tears welling in her eyes, threatening to fall. She blames those on her dry eyes, on the tiredness prompted by restless nights.

"Do you want to continue this at another time?"

Jo shakes her head and takes a deep breath. She pulls her hands away from her face and poses her eyes on Dr. Stensen, the doctor that tries to appear a little more sympathetic, but ends up being only a little less dethatched.

"No. I just… I need a some... time to gather my thoughts," Jo admits.

"It's alright. Try speaking about it in present tense, as if it's happening right now," Dr. Stensen instructs. "Closing your eyes might help. Just think back and tell us what's happening."

Jo nods, but keeps her eyes open. The last she wants is to relive everything so vividly, she ends up sharing more than she's prepared. When she's ready as she's ever going to be, she plunges into the past.

"We were -are. We are outside when we hear them come. Jarek, my brother, he grabs my arm and pulls me along behind him. People are running, trying to find their loved ones. I can see panic sweeping the colony like a wave after those first shots. It starts at the back and moves forward, gaining power, leaving no one untouched. I can feel my jaw working, but I can't get a word out. My brother seems cool under the circumstances. If he's scared, he hides it well.

"We get home in time to see our parents reaching the front door. They look relieved to find us unharmed. My brother is asking questions, but my Dad is shaking his head, ordering him up the stairs, to get the gun he keeps in the drawer of his nightstand."

For some reason, Jo feels the urge to explain this properly, "My Dad is like the Sheriff but we live in such a peaceful colony, he has the tendency of leaving his gun behind, opting to use words to break up arguments instead of brute force. Despite his position, he's-," she stops, realizes what she's been saying and corrects bitterly, "he was a gentle man..."

Jo pauses, her voice fading. There's something in her throat, obstructing it, like a knot. She takes a moment to clear it, to gulp it down. Thankfully, neither doctor push her to continue, the trigger is being pressed but not too hard. At least that's something...

"My brother comes downstairs and the gun is in his hand. My mom... she has her arms around me. I can feel her trembling. It does little to reassure me and it falls to me to try to comfort her."

Jo hits the table with a fist. The sound makes the doctors jump, makes them nervous. She drops her fist onto the table again. The sound is loud and it bounces off the room, leaving an echo behind. She hears the door creak open, but Dr. Stensen stops the guard from coming in with an open palm. The door closes.

"This is what I hear." She punches the table again. "They're just outside, trying to break the door. The lock holds long enough for my Dad to wrap Jarek's hand around the Carnifex and turn the safety off."

Jo forces her voice to sound deeper, more manly. "Get your sister to the basement and stay there. Whatever you hear, whatever happens," her voice returns to normal, "his hands are on Jarek's shoulders and I see his eyes welling with tears. I've never heard him speak so solemnly before, his voice commanding, rendering us silent." She tries to mimic her dad again and says, "Whatever happens, don't come out!"

Jo takes a couple of deep breaths, hating that her hands are trembling. Her throat feels dry, the room feels even warmer. She brushes at her forehead absently, there's a thin layer of sweat there.

"Take your time," Dr. Stensen insists, trying his hand at a smile. Small as the quirking of his lips is, it still manages to look forced.

Jo ignores the cynical voice that makes fun of the doctor and nods at him. She grips her knees under the table, and forges on, "My mom hugs me tightly... kisses my forehead. She whispers in my ear, her body stops shaking but mine starts, 'Live, Jo, whatever happens... Promise me you'll make it.' I nod my head, unsure of what I'm agreeing to. Next thing I know, Jarek is dragging me away, into the back of the house. He pulls open the trapdoor below the carpet and urges me inside. I've just touched the floor when I notice he's still up there, silhouetted by the light.

Jo shakes her head, suddenly furious.

"'What the hell are you doing?' I think that's what I say, I'm not sure." She shakes her head again, her nails digging into her knees, probably breaking the skin. "I swear I saw him smile down at me, as if he cannot wait to be a hero." She looks at the ghost of her brother and continues, "'Live, Jo' he tells me and then, before I can climb back up, he pushes the door close. For a moment I stand there, unsure and horrified. Then I hear the sound of a struggle outside, grunts and... two gunshots."

Jo makes the sound of shooting, her hand mimicking a gun. She shoots at Dr. Stensen two times, aiming at his head, at the spot between his eyes. She drops her hand back onto her lap limply.

"It takes the sound of Jarek cursing to snap me out of my trance. I hurry up the stairs and try the door. I can't open it. He must have shoved something on top."

Jo pulls her hands out and bangs them on the table, not as loud as before but more insistent.

"'Jarek! Open up! Lemme out!' I yell other things, I'm sure I throw some curses in there. It's fake bravado, but I'm hoping to buy my family time." She stops banging, and continues in a lower voice, "I'm vaguely aware that I don't hear my mom's sobs or my dad's threats anymore. I think Jarek yells in order to cover the sound I'm making but I hear a smack and he's silent. Then I hear something scratching against the table and, next thing I know, the door is open. I look up and squint against the blinding light. A hand reaches down and pulls me out effortlessly."

Jo fists her hands, "I'm now face to face with a batarian mercenary. He smiles at me, his six eyes leering, his dirty teeth showing, tiny and sharp. His hand is still wrapped around my arm and he drags me to the next room... where... where..." she looks away and clears her throat, her eyes burning. "My parents are on the floor... they're dead." She shakes her head, combs invisible hair strands out of her face. "I search for my brother. Jarek's cheek is starting to swell. He's kneeling on the ground close to my dad's body, glaring at me. I can tell he's trying not to cry." Jo blinks away her tears. "The batarian behind him is holding a gun to the back of his head, but all eyes are on me."

Jo massages the back of her neck, there's a ball of stress there. She notices goose bumps covering her arms. It feels almost as though she's still back there, trapped in the past. She hates it. She looks away, focusing on a neutral spot on the wall.

"I don't like their looks," she confides eventually, still unable to meet the doctors' eyes, or her brother's. "Their eyes go up and down, as if assessing my value, but I can see... there's lust there. I know it, I've seen it before..." She shakes her head, "They're alien and yet..." She looks at Dr. Stensen. She wants him to understand what she means, because she can't really find the words to describe what it felt like, "It's like they can be humans, y'know? Bad people, I mean..."

The doctors remain silent, probably wondering what she's trying to get at. Perhaps they don't understand... How can they, though? They weren't there, they didn't see... Jo forces herself not to shudder at the memory and keeps from crossing her arms. She has to appear strong. Not weak. Not anymore. Never again.

Jo focuses on Dr. Millman this time, "The batarian beside me pushes me down roughly. Jarek is screaming something, I don't know what. I can't think clearly because the batarian's hands are on my legs and he's trying to get to the button of my pants. I squirm and try to kick him. I think land a blow to his side, but it hurts me more than it does him."

Jo pushes the image aside, but the feeling remains, rendering her more vulnerable than she would have wanted. She doesn't want to see the batarian's face, but it stays stamped in her mind, fresh in its detail. Rather than fight it, she ends up embracing it. If these men want to know what happened, then she won't spare them the disgusting details. They asked for this, didn't they? This is what they wanted all along...

"He -the batarian, he's chuckling. There's saliva pooling at the corner of his dropping lips. It's..." Her face twists but when she notices, she dons an impassive mask. "He slaps me hard on the face. I reel back, banging my head on the floor." She touches a spot near the crown of her head and rubs at it absently. "I blink away tears. I can't see properly. For a moment there's black spots everywhere. Then they clear and I see my dad's Carnifex nearby. I reach for it, my fingers wrap around its butt. I grip it tightly, I know my life is depending on it, and slid my finger on the trigger. I twist and aim it at his face. He was so distracted he barely registers what's happening. He's so close, I cannot miss." Jo aims at Dr. Millman, waits for him to look at her and flexes her finger, mimicking a trigger. "I shoot him without warning, before he can back off, right between his bloody eyes."

She drops her hand onto the table in a fist. "But he falls on top of me and he's now pinning me down. He's heavy and his armor is cold against my skin. He's crushing me, I feel like I can't breathe. The other batarian snarls something. I think he calls me a bitch or something equivalent. I look at him and he's pointing his rifle at me. My arm isn't pinned, so I bring the gun up to his face and pull the trigger in one same motion..."

Jo sags into her seat, pulling her hands off the table, dropping them into her lap. She suddenly feels tired. She knows what's coming. If only she could change it...

"You shot him?" Dr. Millman asks, skeptical.

Jo shakes her head. "Nothing happened." She sighs," I did it-," she stops and switches back into present tense. It's slightly easier to talk about it this way. "I do it again and same thing. The batarian starts to laugh, his rifle is still pointed at my head. I can see the laser is on, there's probably a red dot right in the middle of my forehead." Jo taps at the spot with two fingers in emphasis.

"At some point the batarian must have hit Jarek, because he's on the ground, face first, the back of his head bleeding. He isn't moving and I fear he might be dead. I start to panic. The batarian is coming and I'm still pinned and I'm...I'm-" Jo chuckles mirthlessly, "I'm bloody petrified, that's what I am. I struggle to push off the dead body. Something presses down on my leg. I peer at it and see a gun, holstered in the dead batarian's leg.

"Before I can even try to get it, the assault rifle is pressed to my forehead. It feels hot, I know it has been fired recently. This weapon killed-" She stops and glares at the wall. "I bring my eyes up to look at the slaver. I want to stare him down," another dry chuckle, "but, who am I kidding, I'm pissing myself with fright. I close my eyes and hold my breath. I'm thinking I'm done for, right?" She looks at Dr. Stensen and, for some reason, he nods, failing to understand the question had been rhetorical.

Jo shakes her head, still unable to believe what happened next."Next thing I know, BAM! I hear the shot but there's no pain. I open my eyes and I see Jarek wrestling the slaver. He must have tackled him because they're both on the floor. But Jarek is losing. He's slimmer and shorter." She refuses to say weaker.

Jo grinds her teeth and for a moment anger tints everything red. She looks at the ghost of her brother, whose eyes have yet to leave her. She rips hers away, unable to maintain eye contact as guilt raises.

"'Get the gun, Jo' he says to me, trying to throw the batarian off of him. I try to move but the body pinning me down is heavy. I see the batarian eyeing me as he straddles Jarek, he's lost his rifle, but it's not that far away from him..." Jo pauses. The doctors are on the edge of their seats, lost in her recollections. She doesn't want them there, she wants to throw them out. They're strangers in a private place of suffering. It feels a sacrilege for them to be there, witnessing her pain. She wants to slam the box of her memories close, she wants to lock it tight and hide it in the darkest depths of her psyche. But Jo knows it's too late now. So she dives in, headfirst.

"Then it happens," she says, brining her hands up. She flexes her fingers experimentally and then glares at them. How she wishes they would break... all of them!

"You're biotics kicked in?" Dr. Millman fills in the blank, typing something into the datapad he's yet to put down.

Jo nods, hiding her treacherous hands below the table. She looks up at Jarek. Her brother is looking at her, probably wondering what she'll do. She's reached the metaphoric crossroad, one path leads to the pretence of normality and eventually revenge; the other leads to loony town.

"Was this the first time you experienced them?" Dr. Stensen prompts.

"Yes…no." Jo brushes at her face in building frustration and combs dark tresses away from her eyes. Even after all this time, the scene feels wrong... muddy somehow.

"I felt them before," she admits, "whenever I would lose my temper, but never like this. This was… exciting and frightening. It started in my extremities, rushed to my core and back to my fingers, out through my pores. It felt like an electric current, only I felt like vomiting at the intensity, left me shaking in the aftermath."

"It's remarkable for someone untrained to have managed a shockwave as strong as the one you seem to have produced," Dr. Millman informs, looking her in the eye, as if to check for lies.

If that was supposed to be a compliment, it certainly didn't feel like it. Jo shrugs, unsure of how she's expected to respond.

"Did you take them both out?" the doctor redirects.

Jo answers without hesitation, "No, I didn't."

Her eyes jump to the ghost standing there, shaking his head. She can see his reproach, but she ignores him. It's for the best, that's what she tells herself. A lie for revenge, is that not a worthy trade?

"No?" Dr. Millman tilts his head, his tone indicates surprise and suspicion. "Perhaps you're confu-"

"I produced –what did you call it? A shockwave?—I produced one of those, yes. I think it would have been strong enough to deal some damage, but the attack wasn't dead on," she hurries to explain, her tone harsh and uncompromising. "It grazed the batarian, pushed him away from me and Jarek but towards his gun. He grabbed it and shot my brother dead. The shockwave freed me of the dead body, and I managed to get to the discarded gun -not my dad's, the other one, the one the dead batarian had. I used it, shot the slaver before he could come at me again."

The doctors' eyes are on her. They seem to be waiting for her to add something to the story. There isn't anything else she wants to say.

"Your brother's body displayed traces of biotic burns…," Dr. Millman insists, leaving his sentence hanging, waiting for Jo to fill in the blanks.

Jo's hands ball underneath the table. She feels like gagging at her lie and screaming at her interrogators. Not without some major effort, she calms herself down.

"My biotics must have grazed him too, but they didn't kill him." Jo's voice sounds tired instead of sure. She hates that, but there's little she can do about it. She feels exhausted. "That's what happened. I'm sure of it. He was still alive after…"

She leans forward on the table, propping her face on her palms, hiding her distress.

"Okay, we'll include that in our report," Dr. Stensen says after an awkward pause. Either she's a better liar than she thought, or he really does have a heart. Whatever his reasons, Jo's grateful. "You may return to your quarters and rest. Everything will be okay, Jo. The worst has passed."

Jo nods and makes her way to the door, telling herself not to leave in too much of a hurry. She doesn't want them thinking she's running away from them, she doesn't want them thinking she's relieved to have been believed.

The guards outside acknowledge her as soon as she steps out. One man, the younger of them, offers a smile and asks if she's okay. Jo nods absently, adding another lie to the list. She walks down the hall in between him and a man –the man who found her. Behind her she can feel Jarek, following silently, reproaching her the lie. Jo blinks away the tears, steeling herself for what's to come. When she reaches her room and is left alone, she turns to Jarek.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, voice trembling.

Jarek doesn't answer, he never talks. In his brown eyes, however, she detects the accusation. In the silence of her room, Jo fills in the blank.

'It was you who killed me, lil' sister.'

Jo goes to the bed and crumbles onto it. Her eyes burn with tears she dares not shed. She throws an arm across her face, hiding her eyes and the anguish in them. In the back of her lids, vivid in its detail, flashes the real nightmare…

Jo watches as Jarek throws his aggressor off balance, twisting from underneath him and swiftly recovering his feet. He rushes towards the assault rifle and retrieves it.

"Jarek!" Jo warns, her voice high in its pitch.

Jarek spins around and is face to face with his attacker. He smiles and points the gun at the batarian, confident of his position. Jo's emotions, however, are out of control. She tries to keep the energy building in her body from rushing out, but it's getting harder by the second. She can't seem to get reason to catch up with her emotions, to wrap around her fright and settle her racing heart.

"Jarek, I can't stop it!" She tries to tell him but her biotics kick in soon after, power spilling and spiraling out of control. The energy comes alive like a serpent, sliding towards the oblivious pair. Jarek turns, his eyes wide with unbelief. Friend and foe are thrown back by the force.

It takes Jo a couple of tries to gain her feet. She's trembling like crazy. She gazes at the scene with wide eyes, swallowing bitter bile.

"Jarek," she notices he's not moving, none of them are. Still, she checks the batarian first, puts her fingers to his throat and finds no pulse. His armor is broken, skin charred here and there, blood seeping out through eyes and mouth.

Jo tears her eyes away from the grisly death. She tries to gain her feet but they're even more uncooperative. She moves towards her brother, crawling on hands and knees, grabbing the discarded gun as she's passing it by. She rolls Jarek's body, barely stifles a scream at what she sees. He's burned badly, his eyes wide open, glazed and empty. There's blood covering him, coming out his mouth and eyes too. Jo brushes at it insistently, using first her hands and then her shirt.

"No… please no. Jarek! Jarek, answer me! Please be alive, Jarek, please!" Jo searches for a pulse that she knows she won't find. "Jarek… please! You're all I have! Please! I'm sorry, just look at me! Please… please… please…"

Her heart is beating in her temples, her weakened body is shaking like jell-o. Sobs wreck her chest, tears blurring her sight. There's pain inside, lodged somewhere on her ribs, gripping her heart.

Suddenly a loud sound comes from outside. Jo zeroes on it, trying to find solace in something outside what used to be her home. She hears the thunder-like swoosh of ships sweeping in at high velocity, more than three.

"In the name of the Alliance, surrender at once or we'll be forced to open fire," the announcement rings loud and clear. Jo looks out the window, catching a couple of batarians answering with gunshots. The response is immediate and they're sprayed with gunfire, killed on the stop. The salvers left are not surrendering, but they aren't fighting either. Jo sees some of them calling a retreat, moving backward steadily, firing at someone up ahead.

Jo looks back at the scene she's in, stares at the limp body in her arms. She pulls her hands from underneath Jarek. They are red and sticky with blood. Would they believe she made a mistake? Would they believe she tried to stop herself? Would they send her to trial? Find her guilty…?

Jo panics.

Her eyes settle on the rifle close by. She doesn't think too long or too much about what she has to do. She grabs it, and inspects it with trembling hands, checking to see the safety is off. Of course it is! She berates her stupidity, inhales deeply and turns back to Jarek. She forces herself up onto shaking legs and looks down at him, tears burning in her eyes. His face tells her his death was painful, even if it was swift. She points the rifle at him, squeezes a tear and shoots, vomiting right after, regretting her decision as soon as she's made it. The kickback of the rifle hurts her shoulder but it also makes her angry.

She stalks towards the Batarian, anger veiling everything else. Fuck him, this all happened because of him! She finds solace in how his face is twisted with the pain he must have felt. His skin is no longer grey, it's pink and red, charred raw. If she had the time, she would scoop those eyes out and burn them in acid! She pushes those thoughts away, else she ends up vomiting the rest of her lunch.

"You fuckin' beast! It's all your fault, you hear me?" Jo puts three bullets into his skull. "Do you hear me? It's all because you came!" She continues to squeeze, disfiguring his face completely.

An alliance Soldier throws the door open sometime after, probably when he heard the commotion. She doesn't notice him there until the rifle is out of bullets and he's beside her, gently taking the gun out of her numb hands. Jo turns to him. She can't see his face, it's half covered by his visor. Grief rises, drowning out her hate and she falls to her knees, her face twisting with pain. She gags, her stomach heaving, her throat aching. The soldier kneels behind her, places a hand on her back almost gently.

"It's all right. You're safe now," he sounds genuinely concerned, which only makes things worse.

Jo looks at him, tears brimming in her eyes, hands coated red with blood. And all she can think is, 'no, I'm not okay. You're fucking late.'

"You were fucking late," she repeats. And in the privacy of her room, in the company of a ghost, Jo Shepard finally allows herself to cry.

[ END OF FILE ]