After recent spoilers revealed by the ME2 streaming vids and on the Bioware site(the thread Bioware - DLC - ME1 LIs) I'm afraid the shenko is looking a little heartbreaking. I wanted to get this piece in as quickly as possible since I can't guarantee, after what I've read thus far, I will want to write this was on my desktop...the last of my rough drafts I've decided to put it out there. Hopefully the game will inspire me despite what I've heard.
This was actually two fics that I put together that became a character piece...of sorts. The first part with Shep was going in a much different direction(it was meant to be sort of a horror story but it never panned out). I had made her a pill popping junkie, but when I put it together with Kaidan's piece the addiction part didn't work so well, so the drugs in the dream quickly became a knife. It's four chapters so again it's one of my longer pieces meaning no twists...just a straight fic.
Please I do not want to offend anyone with my depiction of Dallas and Texas...the wiki described the Texas Megapolis area as one that was still very much like the 20th century...pollution filled etc...I simply built upon what the wiki said.
Basically this is a chance encounter between Shepard and Kaidan before the beginning of Mass Effect. Rated T. Some gritty portrayal at the first but I don't thing it goes overboard.
I do not own Bioware.
Chance Encounter
The clock was frozen...one minute to midnight. It was always the same.
The darkened bar, a drink in her hand. She could never remember what it was though, just that it dulled the pain.
"Never a bartender...who pours these drinks?" she wondered.
The breeze from the ceiling fan that blew against the back of her head barely moved the wet matted hair that clung to her head.
She knew she looked a mess. It didn't matter...it never did.
Click...click...click. The uneven blades of the fan knocked against its frame. The sound was comforting.
The bar was empty except for her and the man.
Baylin was it? Or was it Balisk? She could never remember?
His dark sunken eyes gazed at her knowingly.
The expensive clothes that clung to his emaciated frame had the faint aroma of a citrus based cologne.
The smell would have been pleasant if the undertones of burnt flesh and blood didn't waft from just below it.
He took a drag on his cigarette. Coolly and calmly, he offered it to her.
"No thanks, I've quit," she said flatly.
He pulled a blood crusted knife from his pocket and laid it on the counter.
Cigarette between his fingers, he tapped at the tip of the blade as if to say, "Take it."
"I'm not interested," she whispered, shaking her head no.
Tilting his head slightly to the side, he pushed the knife closer. The tip of the blade gently sliced open the edge of his finger and blood dripped onto the counter.
He smiled, knowingly.
Beads of sweat began to form on Shepard's forehead and her hands began to shake.
Tap...tap...tap.
He tapped the counter drawing her attention closer to the knife.
She grabbed for it , blindly thrusting the sharp blade into the man's chest. The blood spread across his shirt even as his shrill laughter pierced the empty air.
"Good girl," he growled, "Now that wasn't so hard was it."
Shepard woke in a cold sweat.
Beep...beep...beep.
"Was that the alarm?" she thought.
She looked to the clock on her bed stand. It read one minute to midnight.
"Not the alarm," she thought.
The light on her personal comm link was blinking.
"Who would be calling this late at night?" she wondered.
"Yeah," she mumbled, as she lifted the small comm unit to her lips.
"Commander Shepard, this is Captain Anderson," the solemn voice said.
There was no reason to question the Captain as to why he was calling so late. Shepard already knew. Her assignment had been simple. Meet her contact and report back to Anderson as soon as possible, unfortunately her contact had never shown. Exhausted due to waiting so long she had returned to her hotel room intent on taking a short nap before contacting the Captain. According to the clock her nap had been four hours long.
"Contact never showed Captain," Shepard reported.
"Damn!' he swore.
"Do you want me to try to rearrange a meeting, sir?" she asked.
"No...I need you to report to the base on Titan," Anderson said, unexpectedly.
"Sir?" Shepard asked.
"I'll explain when you get here. Just make it as fast as you can." he said.
"Yes sir." she responded.
"Until then, Commander," Anderson ended the conversation with the comm link going dead.
Shepard had been in the Texas Megapolis on the pretense of shore leave. Why anyone would come here on purpose she failed to understand, but the destination got a steady stream of tourists throughout the year...some for the many historical sites...others for the various sexual entertainment facilities that dotted the landscape.
Yawning, she was taken back to her nightmare. It wasn't the first time it had occurred. The dream had been a frequent visitor since the death of her parents on Mindor.
For years she had blamed it on her L2 implants, after all the dreams had lessened in frequency after she had been retrofitted with a L3. The excuse failed however after Torphan. The nightmares had returned violently.
Her quick rise in the ranks had brought a responsibility that begin to weigh heavy, and cracks formed in her well disciplined exterior. Her reputation quickly moved from one of restrained efficiency to reckless ruthlessness in one battle.
The little orphan girl from Mindor had done well at least in the eyes of her superiors. As far as they were concerned, she got the job done. Little did they suspect that she had literally cracked at Torphan.
In her delirium to destroy the Batarians she had lost most of her unit. She had even killed those who had surrendered. What had the alliance expected...the batarians had been responsible for the slaughter of everyone she had ever loved. The incident had earned her the nickname the Butcher of Torfan though few would say it to her face.
Shepard looked at the clock. It was five past twelve.
"No use going back to sleep," she thought. "It's already morning."
"Might as well get ready to head out," she mumbled to herself, " Give me a chance to get something to eat."
The thought of food caused her to think of her mother, a slight woman who had very little appetite. She had always been shocked at the amount of food her daughter could put away. At the time she hadn't known what a biotic was, or that her only child might be one.
The memory caused Shepard to wrinkle her forehead. To this day she could not clearly picture her parents' faces. It disturbed her more than she liked to admit.
Flipping on the bathroom light, she was startled by her reflection in the mirror. Underneath her disheveled appearance an attractive woman stared back at her.
More than one guy had commented on her good looks ,but she rarely thought about it. Soldier's didn't have time to worry over such things. The mission was to be their primary focus.
"Primping and preening is for beauty queens...not Alliance military," she thought.
Looking at her uniform she furrowed her brow, " But we are supposed to neat."
"Did I go to sleep in this?" she asked herself, examining her attire.
After a quick shower, it was soon replaced with a crisp uniform. Looking in the mirror for a quick inspection, she slicked her hair back and nodded in approval.
"Much better."
The rat infested hotel room was already nothing more than a memory, as she stepped out into the brisk cold night air. She was temporarily blinded by the numerous flashing neon signs that littered the skyway, advertising everything from the latest colonization project to the newest prostitution house.
"The cesspool of Earth," she thought. "Lovely...New Calcutta is much nicer"
Or so she had heard. She had never actually been there.
"The stench of sewer was the next thing she noticed. It speedily filtered into Shepard's nostrils.
"God, that's awful," she sputtered, as her nose wrinkled in distaste.
She caught her reflection in the window as she passed by the lobby of her hotel. Her frame looked considerably thinner than when she had first arrived. Although her biotic metabolism had been raging for food, she had found that the myriad of smells permeating the streets usually left her unable to consume very much. She was hoping she would be more successful farther away from the city.
The San Antonio Exchange had to be the answer. Surely she could find a decent meal there while she waited for her connection to Titan.
"Hey, Baby!" Shepard was roused out of her thoughts.
The man waved at her as she passed by.
"Where ya going, sweetness? How bout a ride...my money's good," the man called out.
Shepard leered at the man with her steel blue eyes, her form stretching out in a military stance.
Flicking her hand, a biotic wave went forth, throwing the man against the wall. He slumped to the ground.
Purposely, Shepard walked over and leaned down putting her face in his.
Sneering she said, " How's that for a ride?"
She could hear the man mumble something about "Damn biotic freaks" when she walked away.
She would have taken it up with him if she had the time, but she had a connection to make.