Orphans of War
Chapter 1
It was almost four o'clock in the afternoon.
The latest band of refugees had just arrived in the emergency housing floor, most of them were human. Another colony world evacuated as the Reapers closed in. Young, old, men, women, they filed in, walking up to the desks to register their arrival, as well as try and receive aid.
Among them, lost in the hustle and bustle, standing there with nothing but a weathered looking old pack clutched tightly against her chest, was a young girl. She had dull honey-gold hair, milk pale skin, dotted with light freckles, and warm brown eyes that looked around, lost and frantic, unsure about what to do.
Valrus saw her. He saw her coming in with the new wave of humans. He'd come to help out the C-Sec forces, even though it was a bit trivial compared to his normal duties. They needed the extra man power, and boots on the floor helped anywhere there was a need.
He had been looking over his data fed, keeping up with the rest of the incoming data about the war. Palaven, Earth, countless colony planets. Video streams, news reports, despite the constant feeds coming in from every which corner, it was almost impossible to list an accurate casualty toll, what's worse is that one hour a large city or colony will be checking in, sending in their information, requesting aid, and the next, they would be completely silent. No checking in, no feeds, no noise. Silence.
Still, Valrus saw this one refugee, just standing there. She looked small and helpless, like she was trying desperately to shrink down to a miniscule size. For a moment, he swore she might be close to tears. He tried to ignore her, scanning through the data feeds, figuring she would eventually move on, find her family or whatever.
However, as he started reading about a recent raid by Cerberus on Benning, a conversation caught his attention.
"Hey there, sweetie," a male voice spoke up, "You lost?"
"U-Umm…no, I'm waiting for someone," answered a quieter voice.
"Who? Your folks?"
"Well, I—"
"Come on, I'll help you look for 'em. They're around here somewhere, right?"
Valrus looked up at this point, and saw a human male reaching to slip his arm casually around the girl's back. He was considerably older than her, maybe late 30s, and the girl looked at him with a mix of uncertainty and a bit of distaste.
"I really should just wait here for—"
"Aw, come on now," the man leered at her, his other hand reaching to grab one of her wrists that clutched at her bag, "In times like this, humanity's got to stick together, right? Just take this as some good will between our species, huh?"
"Really, I—"
"Hey," Valrus closed his data feed and approached the pair, the male immediately turning his once softer expression towards him with a more menacing stare. Valrus was unfazed by the balding man's glare, which faded quickly as he approached. "I thought I told you to get lost, Wilkson."
Jerry Wilkson swallowed a lump in his throat, a beat of sweat growing on his brow. He released the girl, but didn't retreat, composing himself instantly to stare down Valrus. "I have every right to be here, bird face! I'm providing support for my people in their time of need! Right, sweet thing?" he flashed a toothy smile at the young girl, who simply looked between the two.
Her gaze hung on Valrus, almost pleading. Valrus watched her for a moment, understanding the look, and then crossed his arms. "I've given you plenty of warnings, Wilkson, and you've gotten even more from the regular c-sec officers. By law, I could have you sent to a holding cell, maybe even arrested, for still trying to keep this scam of yours running."
Wilkson gritted his teeth together, "Listen here, you over grown featherless chicken!" he sneered, "You don't have any rights to do anything to me. No one's got any proof I'm doing anything illegal!"
"I don't need proof," Valrus stared down at him, his gold amber eyes intense, almost inflamed, "All I need is an excuse, and my dwindling patients is enough for me. Either get the hell out of my face and stay that way, or I'll have you locked away for the rest of her miserable life in a hole so deep even your cockroach ass couldn't crawl out."
Wilkson's face burned bright red, something that slightly amused Valrus. The range of color human skin could reach just by emotion was almost entertaining. "I'm gonna report you to human resources! This is racism!"
Valrus threw back his head and laughed, loud and rolling, sinister almost, "Go ahead, give my best to Councilor Udina even. If your little complaint even gets farther than the front desk," he leaned forward, unintimidated by him, "Seeing as human resources won't do a damn thing about a rat-assed bastard like you trying to report a Veteran Council Spectre for giving you a hard time."
Wilkson's color changed again, this time the flushed red melted away, and his skin turned stark white. He swallowed, repeatedly, and after looking between the girl and Valrus, as if weighing his odds, he turned and hurried away. Not quite running, but not walking, but clearly a hasty retreat.
Valrus scoffed, putting his hands on his waist as he watched the swindler go. Part of him wished he didn't just make a threat, but went through with the arrest. He'd simply move on to the next defenseless refugees and give the same pitch before robbing them blind.
"U-Um, excuse me?"
A shy voice reminded Valrus he wasn't alone, and he glanced back at the young human. She smiled up at him, strands of her hair hanging in her face. "Thank you for helping me, sir. I really appreciate it."
Valrus turned to her, "Where's your family, kid?" he asked bluntly.
She looked surprised for a minute, as if she didn't expect him to ask such a question. He waited for her answer, clearly not giving her the option to make excuses.
She turned her attention to the gates where most of the refugees had been coming after the drop offs, and looked a little saddened. "…they said they were going to take the shuttle after me…" she muttered quietly. "The lady at the front desk said that it would be arriving in the next few hours…"
Valrus was quiet for a moment, contemplating. When had he first noticed her arrival? Two, three hours ago?
"How long ago was that?" he questioned.
"…" she tightened her grip on her bag, "Three hours and thirty six minutes ago."
Valrus remembered his data feed. He had been monitoring incoming shuttle reports. In the past three hours, only two shuttles had arrived. One was from a batarian colony, the other from Earth.
"Where are they coming from?" he asked.
"Promise," she answered, adjusting some of her hair that was falling into her eyes. She looked around again, as if hoping speaking the name might've alerted someone who might know where her family was.
Valrus remembered Promise. It was a small moon that orbited a large, ringed planet called Kamaji, along with two other moons, Muse and Historia. Promise was a fairly new colony, only having been established twenty or so years ago by humans in the Lorelei Cluster in outer Citadel space. All he could remember was that it was mostly farming and mining, and it had a relatively low population.
As he looked at her, he could easily imagine her having been born on that moon, never having left it before in her life, and now thrust into a world she had no idea about, alone and afraid. Thinking like that made it even easier for him to see how she was targeted by Wilkson, and how she would defiantly be targeted again.
"What's your name, kid?" he asked yet another question of her.
She looked at him, clearly unsure about whether or not she should answer that question. She didn't seem too young, but naivety was defiantly a constantly state of mind. She had been sheltered, probably grew up knowing every face and name of the people around her. She never had to do with anything outside of Promise, and grew up under the safe guard of her parents.
Kids like her often ended up tricked into bad situations.
He showed her his data pad, "I'm gonna run your name threw recent arrivals. If your parents are here, then it'll show me where I can find them."
She seemed to light up, and gave no more protests, "My name is Clara Reed, my parents are Donald and Paula Reed. I have a little brother too, Gavin."
Valrus put her name into the data base. She had registered her arrival around the time she had told him, and as it searched through the recent arrivals, he noticed her trying to push herself up on her toes to peer over it, a hopeful yet apprehensive look on her face. He shook his head at her behavior, and around the same time, the data pad alerted him to "No Matches Found".
He closed it out and looked at her. The disappointment in her expression told him she saw too. She looked down at her feet while Valrus reached up to rub at his neck. There was no way to tell when the next shuttle would arrive, and whether or not it would even come from Promise. Communications were bad and getting worse, to the point that incoming shuttles, sometimes even cruisers, would have to take a chance at approaching the docking hangers without contact, praying not to be shot down.
Clara took in a breath, and smiled at him, "Thank you again, sir. I appreciate you trying to help."
"Anytime," Valrus answered. With a wave, Clara walked away. Valrus turned to do the same, but glanced back.
Clara didn't go far, simply over to a bench nearby. She took a seat with her back to him, placing her bag beside her, and continued to glance around, still hoping to spot her family.
Valrus watched her, then turned.
There were countless people in her same situation. All of them needed help.
It wasn't his job to deal with her. He was only a temporary solution to the lack of man-power on this floor anyway.
With luck, she'd be reunited with her family before the night was out anyway.
Yes. There were a lot of people in Clara's situation. A lot of them who needed help. What made Clara's case so different, so special?
This was what Valrus kept thinking well into the night…
A/N: This story was inspired by a background conversation in ME3 where a c-sec officer talks with a young teenage girl refugee. I'm sure there are similar stories out there, but it was a touching idea that I wanted to play with.
