BioWare owns the Mass Effect universe. I just wrote stuff that takes place in said universe. =D
Many thanks to my lovely beta Serenita. Where would I be without you?
"Grandpa!" The young woman started banging on the door again. She wondered what her grandfather was doing. He was the sort of man who became absorbed in tasks, to the point where he wouldn't notice anything going on in the world around him... like his granddaughter knocking on the door. It frustrated her all too often. "Come on, Gramps, let me in!"
The door slid open a moment later. "Shirking duties again?" The older man grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth as they locked on to his only grandchild's green ones.
His granddaughter made a face at him. "I brought you cookies," she said, holding up a small box.
He ushered her inside and hit the pad next to the door, causing it to close. "Cookies, you say? Well, I suppose you can get away with not working in the fields if you brought me cookies, Corporal."
The young woman smiled at her grandfather's pet name for her. Joseph Shepard had been a marine in the Systems Alliance a lifetime ago. The time he spent as an enlisted man left its mark on him, and it showed through in his affection for his only grandchild. "Here." She handed him the box and took a seat as he carried the box into what passed for a kitchen in the small pre-fabricated unit. "It's a recipe I haven't tried before. I think you'll like it, Gramps."
"Letting me be the guinea pig for your experiments again, I see," he said.
"Well of course! You know as well as I do that my experiments never go wrong," she replied.
He opened up the box and peered inside. "What is this? Are these oatmeal raisin?" he asked. She nodded vigorously. "I haven't had these in years. Where did you get the supplies to make these?"
"Dad got them. No idea how, but I didn't question it." She shrugged. Her father was like that. He would always come home with some new, fresh ingredients to cook with that weren't a product of the colony. Those days were her favorites, because it meant she and her father would spend copious amounts of time cooking together in the kitchen. It also meant that she got to avoid working in the fields with her mother. She had a very close relationship with both of her parents, but cooking and baking with her dad had always been special and her grandfather knew that.
The elderly man came and had a seat beside his sixteen-year-old granddaughter, cookie in hand. "Your father always was good at getting his hands on things he shouldn't, the sneaky bastard. You get that from him, you know."
"What? Being sneaky?" Her grandfather nodded as he took a bite out of his cookie. "I'm not sneaky. I just know how to do things well enough that no one ever notices."
"That's what I said, Corporal. Being sneaky." He smiled at her again, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in a familiar and comforting way. "These taste just like the ones your great-grandmother used to make. I'll never know how you do it."
"Easy. I dug up her recipe. Dad had it stored in his omni-tool, but I guess he forgot about it. I figured I would give it a shot."
Joseph raised a silver eyebrow at his granddaughter. "If your father forgot about it, then how did you get your hands on it?"
She fidgeted in her seat, clearly reluctant to reply. "I hacked it," she said finally, looking away. "He always hides his best recipes from me and I don't know why. So I waited 'til he was asleep and I hacked into his recipe collection."
"And what did your father say about that?" Her grandfather's tone seemed to carry a warning.
"He hasn't figured it out yet," she admitted. "He probably won't be happy, but there you have it."
Her grandfather glared at her for a moment longer before he finally burst into laughter. "See, sweetheart, this is exactly what I mean! Sneaking around, hacking into your old man's tool for giggles… your talents aren't fit for the life of a farmer." He moved back to the seat he'd been occupying when his granddaughter showed up. An array of weapons was lined up on the table in front of the chair. He grabbed his assault rifle and picked up where he had left off; he had been in the process of cleaning his guns when his granddaughter showed up. That explained why he hadn't answered the door as quickly as he should have.
She leaned over and picked up a sniper rifle, admiring the weapon. "Gramps, I don't understand why you insist on cleaning your guns every other day. This is Mindoir. Nothing ever happens here. At least, nothing you need to be prepared to shoot someone for."
"If there's one thing I learned in the military, it's that a good soldier is always prepared for anything. Disaster always strikes when you least expect it. You'd do well to remember that." A shadow of emotion passed over his wrinkled face. She knew he was remembering the time he spent in the Alliance. She had seen that look on his face before and she always wondered what sorts of horrors he had seen, but he had never told her; maybe he wanted to spare her from knowing the worst of people. She didn't know and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
As soon as it had appeared, though, the shadow was gone and his usual good-natured expression was back. He gave her a stern look to reinforce his statement, and she nodded in response. "Good. What do you say we take the pistol out back and practice shooting? You're a damned good shot with that thing."
She shook her head and carefully set the rifle back down. "I really shouldn't. I need to get back home. Mom needs me to help her with something. She wasn't too specific about what, though."
"Well, you'd best not keep her waiting then."
She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. She and her grandfather exchanged inquisitive looks. "I'll get it, Gramps. Just keep doing what you're doing."
She made her way over to the door and keyed in the number to open it. It slid open and she was greeted by the smiling face of her boyfriend. "Evan!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Your parents said you were down on this side of the colony. Thought I'd come see you." He motioned over his shoulder. "Got a minute to talk?"
"Sure," she said. "Gramps, I'll be outside for a few minutes."
He just waved her out. She had to suppress a grin. Her grandfather always seemed uncomfortable around her boyfriend, even more so than her father. All the better, she supposed, as Evan always seemed ever so slightly afraid of her grandfather. Best to keep them separated.
As the door closed behind her, Evan swept her into his arms and kissed her. When he finally released her, she laughed and said, "You're in an awfully good mood. What gives?"
"I've got something to tell you and I think you'll be thrilled," he said, grinning wildly. His dreadlocked hair bounced about as he spoke, reflecting his jovial attitude. As long as she'd known him, she didn't think she'd ever seen him so excited. She had known him almost her whole life and she was well-aware of the fact that Evan was normally quiet and reserved. Even when he was happy or excited about something, he would only show it with a smile or a few words. Right now, he was practically bouncing.
"Well? What is it?"
"I'm joining the Alliance."
She just stared at him. "What?"
"I'm joining the Alliance. I just got back from talking to a recruiter."
"And… you thought this was a good idea why?"
He narrowed his eyes and his excitement quickly abated. "I thought it would be obvious. This way, we have some sort of stability. We aren't going to be bound to this colony. I know you were thinking about joining and I figured I should too. We can see the galaxy together, love."
She held up a hand to stop him. "Whoa, whoa. Evan, you only just turned eighteen. I'll be seventeen in less than six months. We've been dating for, what, a year? I love you, more than anything, but this is too much right now. Besides, do you really think things are going to work that way?"
"What do you mean?"
"If we both join the Alliance. We're not going to see each other. We could spend most of our careers on opposite sides of the galaxy. I'm not saying we couldn't make it work, but holy hell would it be difficult." The look on his face was beginning to turn from one of excitement to one of dejection. She reached out and put her arms around his neck. "Hey. It's okay. I'm sorry, you just shocked me is all. We'll work it out. It won't be much more difficult than if only I had joined, I promise." She gave him a light kiss on the cheek. He seemed to perk up a bit at that.
He certainly had the ability to succeed in the Alliance. She didn't think he had ever touched a gun in his life, but he was a technological genius. They were always recruiting individuals who knew their way around technology and Evan was a natural. He had taught her everything she knew about tech; without his instruction, she never would have been able to obtain her great-grandmother's cookie recipe. Beyond his technological skills, he was incredibly athletic as well. He was tall, standing a few inches over her almost-six-foot height, and built of almost all muscle. The athleticism came with living on an agricultural colony and he was hardly unusual in that regard. Even with all of the technological advancements in farming, much of it still required arduous physical labor and the physique of many of the colonists reflected that.
She was still a bit unnerved by his words, though. She did love him, but the things he was talking about, well, were sounding like marriage. That wasn't an idea she even wanted to entertain right now. Like she had told him, they were both young. There was so much that could happen in the next year and a half, when she could join the Alliance. She didn't want him making decisions he would regret if their relationship fell apart. They had long, long lives in front of them. There was no point in getting tied down so early. There might be other women in his future; there might be other men in hers. She didn't want to think about that just yet. She was content to live here and now. Things were easier that way.
Suddenly, the expression on his face changed to one of confusion, jerking her out of her thoughts. She reached out to place a hand on his cheek, the fairness of her skin contrasting the ebony of his. "What is it?"
He inclined his head, gesturing toward something behind her. "What the hell are those?"
She let go of him and turned to see what he was talking about. "Look like ships. What are they doing here?" There were two by her count. There might have been more, but if there were they were obscured by the darkening sky. She didn't recognize them.
"I didn't think we were supposed to see any Alliance ships for a few weeks," Evan murmured.
She shook her head. "That's not the Alliance."
"What? Who is it then?" her boyfriend was asking, but she had already turned to run inside to inform her grandfather. Evan followed, close on her heels.
"Gramps! There are ships touching down on the colony but I don't recognize them. What's going on?" She was beginning to get scared and the fear caused her voice to crack. Something wasn't right with these ships and she knew it.
"Ships? Let me see?" The elderly man poked his head out the door and promptly swore. "This is bad. Here." He tossed his granddaughter his military-issue Hahne-Kedar pistol. "Listen to me, Melantha. Do you remember all of those games we played when you were younger?"
She nodded. Of course she did. As a little girl, she had loved playing "humans versus aliens" with her granddad. He was always the alien, and she would have to find ways to get around him or get him out of her way in order to accomplish a task. Her parents had never approved, as it always involved her playing with toy guns, but her grandfather had ignored the admonishments he had received from his son and daughter-in-law. She had loved every second of it. It was the only time she was allowed to play with her guns. "But what do those games have to do with this?"
"Everything. Those games we played taught you basic tactics and today you're going to have to use them. Those ships are batarian slave ships. They're here to take slaves and kill anyone who resists."
"What do batarians want with us though? We're just farmers," Evan said.
"The four-eyed bastards are bitter because the Council wouldn't make the Verge exclusive to the batarians. They've been taking out their aggression on human colonies as a result and, apparently, we've become a target. There's no time to dwell on that now, though. You know how to use a gun, boy?" Evan shook his head to indicate that no, he did not. The old man handed him an assault rifle anyways. "No better time to learn, then. Just point it at somethin' you want dead and pull the trigger. Stay together. Melantha knows what to do."
No, I really don't, Grandpa, she wanted to say. But she kept her mouth shut and simply nodded. She needed to stay confident… or at least, she needed Evan to think she was. He was a good man, but she knew he could crumble easily in stressful situations like this. As long as she stayed calm, she knew he would follow suit. "What do you need us to do?"
"Get to the main settlement. Stay out of sight as best you can. Shoot anyone who gets in your way. The best thing you can do is stay hidden. Can you do that?"
"I think so. What about you?" she asked.
"I'm going to stay here and take out as many of them as I can, try to stop them from following you."
"You can't hope to take them all out."
"No, but I can do some damage. You need to go. Be safe, Corporal. I love you." He hugged his granddaughter and kissed the top of her head.
"I love you too, Gramps." She kissed his cheek as he released her from the hug. Without another word, she took Evan by the hand and pulled him out of the pre-fab. She never looked back.