I don't own Mass Effect. Bioware does.
It was a windy, drab fall evening, with crispy brown leaves blowing in the wind, the sky filled with gray clouds blotting the sky, and a storm brewing in the distance. Her backpack weighed heavily on her back, as did her thick rain coat, but she was distracted by what she got to bring home from school that day. It was a baked clay sculpture she had crafted the day before, and was bringing it home today after it had been put in the kiln. She continued to to skip along the sidewalk to her apartment block, hopeful to see what her mother's reaction would be.
"Evening, Mr. Mather!" she greeted as she entered the front lobby.
The building was old, decaying, and far from meeting building regulations. The place was cheap, so most of the residents could afford to scrape by with whatever they made.
Mather had a face like a pecan pie, warm, dark, wrinkly, and would smile every time one looked upon it.
"Evening, child. I assume school went fine?"
"Yeah! Look what I brought home to show mommy!" she lifted the clay statue up for the elder man to see.
She practically saw the doorman as a grandfather figure.
"I'm sure she'll love it. She's home by the way. Your mother had an argument earlier with one of her clients, but I think it's all sorted out now."
She sprinted up the stairs with unlimited enthusiasm, racing to her home on the top floor of the building. Running up, she could distantly hear the ambient noises of the other houses around her, like a piano, a TV at full volume, a couple laughing, and a man playing a guitar with a crowd of children as she arrived on her floor. Pushing through the ajar door, she burst in.
"Mommy! Look at what I made at school! Mommy…! Mommy?" she cried out.
There was an open draft flowing through their small apartment, with distant lightning illuminating the other room through the open window. Walking through, she could see the other room had been splashed with what she thought to be red paint. The sheets had been thrown about, the wardrobe had been tossed to the floor, the bathroom door hung off its hinges, and her mother had been lying on the floor on her side, away from her.
"Mommy? I'm home. Wake up!" she ran to her side, noticing the large puddle of red paint pooling underneath her.
"Mommy? Are you sick?" she stuttered.
She pulled her onto her back to reveal the numerous stab wounds on her chest, complete with a large gash across her throat. She unconsciously dropped her sculpture, shattering it as she got on her knees, begging her mother to respond.
"Mommy! Wake up! Please! Mommy! Mommy! Wake up!" she desperately yelled, shaking her deceased mother as tears began to streak down her face.
As the storm picked up outside the window, she gave one last look at her blood-stained hands before getting up, turning for the door, and bolting.
She nearly stumbled a few times rushing down the steps in a shocked panic. She sobbed uncontrollably as she continued to ran, causing a few of her neighbors to peek their heads out to see what the commotion was about. Mr. Mather got up from his seat when he saw her enter the lobby from the stairs.
"Child, what happened? Where are you going, darling?!" he demanded.
It was too late. She rushed out into the rain, simply focusing on putting distance behind her. She didn't look back, didn't go to the school, she just ran.
She ran.
She ran.
She ran.
She woke with a harrowing gasp. Eyes widening and glued to the ceiling, she could only find herself in a hospital room. But the traces of the memory still lingered, leaving her a little nauseous to the point where she was about to panic. Gasping for breath, Jane nestled her head into the pillow and closed her eyes, trying to block out the painful memory. She merely snapped out of her thoughts when she heard footsteps coming into the room.
"Hello, are you feeling well?" she found herself facing an asari nurse with a salarian assistant working behind her.
Having calmed herself, Jane slowly nodded.
"Your pulse greatly picked up a couple minutes ago," the asari nurse explained, "you had us a bit worried."
"It…it was just a dream," Jane mumbled.
Nodding in agreement, Jane sat upright in her bed.
"You were brought in the other day by Spectre Arterius in the poor condition he found you back on Earth," the salarian explained as he turned around, "until you are well, you are to remain bedridden. Simply put, you were nearing the drain when you first came in."
Jane nodded, only to remind herself that she didn't get the name of the turian she met.
"Is Arterius a turian?" Jane asked.
"The Spectre with whitish-gray plates is Saren Arterius. He said he'd come by to pick you up once you finished recovering," the asari answered.
Confident with confirming her recognition of Saren, Jane rested her head on the pillow.
"So where is he now?" Jane asked.
"He's on the Presidium doing some paperwork with the human ambassador. He said he might check by a few more times this week," the salarian answered, "for now, just get rest, you'll need it."
Jane only nodded in agreement. She didn't think she'd actually leave Earth or even catch interest from a turian with such a higher rank than her. For now, she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to doze off.
"Perhaps she could eventually find a position at C-Sec?" the human ambassador proposed, "considering she is properly cleaned up, she could be a beneficial individual to society."
"Maybe," Saren hummed, "so you are certain her profile doesn't show up anywhere on the Alliance's Systems? And her parents?"
"Like you'd found earlier, her genetic mother had been declared legally dead a decade earlier," the human ambassador replied, "and no one in the current system both alive and dead match her genetically to be a possible father. She herself has no registration."
This wouldn't be easy.
"I'll see what I can do to get her citizenship and get the ball rolling," Saren offered, "what she wants to do is up to her."
With that, the human ambassador nodded in agreement.
Saren hastily left the office. He'd recently bought an average omni-tool, and would need to head to the immigration office to start getting Jane settled. She may not have much in the way of a profile, but he could still turn in her form on the go, so all he had to do was ask her directly and fill in the blanks. Besides, he was a Spectre, so he could do that. Catching a taxi, he ordered the driver to Huerta. While the taxi hovered through the air traffic, Saren turned on his omni-tool to check on Jane's progress.
According to the asari nurse's report, her injuries had healed and she was getting the nutrients she needed, however, she was still taking time from a harsh fever she was suffering from when he'd found her. Satisfied with the update, Saren turned off his omni-tool.
Paying the fee for his ride, he stepped outside and entered the front lobby of the hospital. Informing the receptionist of his visit, he quickly strolled down the hallway to Jane's room. Knocking as he entered, he calmly approached the ill human at the end of the row.
"Hello, Jane. I just had a few questions to ask."
Upon hearing his voice, Jane turned her head towards him and sat up.
"Saren?" Jane paused.
Saren calmly dragged up a chair and sat down in it before pulling out a datapad.
"Okay, first things first. Here is an omni-tool for you," Saren began, "you'll need it for much of your daily life, whether it's paper work, making a call, using the extranet, identification, and use of your finances. Secondly, I'm doing what I can to help you get instated."
Saren calmly put a small device onto her left arm before showing her how to turn it on and off. Jane took a few minutes getting used to the basics of using the omni-tool on her wrist.
"I had talked with the human ambassador about your identity. While there isn't much, I'm a Spectre. I'm sure I can take a few liberties as to what is and isn't accurate," Saren continued, "hopefully, that'll be fine with you?"
"Yes," Jane answered.
"So far, the hospital has helped fill in a large portion of the paperwork concerning your physical appearance as well as provide a rough estimate to your birthdate and current age. The ambassador helped identify your mother, and I'll just leave off referring to your father as John Doe…or at least that's what the ambassador said," Saren continued, "right now, could you tell me where you were raised and what your full name is?"
Jane flexed her fingers nervously.
"I'm trying to remember my last name," she said, "if I even have one."
Saren sighed with distraught.
"What we do have is your mother's full name: Hannah Shepard. Perhaps your mother's maiden name would be sufficient?" he casually proposed.
Jane almost cringed when her childhood memory returned for a brief second, but she maintained her composure.
"I'll accept the offer," Jane nodded.
Saren took note of Jane's reaction, his subvocals emitting a soft coo.
"I'm sorry if I bring up bad memories," Saren asked with caution, "but what do you remember about your childhood home? Where on Earth were you raised?"
Jane hesitated with her answer for a long moment.
"J-J-Jackson, Mississippi," Jane stuttered.
Saren nodded with confirmation.
"I'll see to it the final touches are done on my own, Jane Shepard. Thank you for your time. Are you feeling better?"
"A little," Jane shrugged.
Saren rose to his feet, adding final touches to the datapad.
"Hang in there. These are good people you've trusted your life with."
Upon reading the profile images and the names of the medics, Jane gave a soft smile.
"I appreciate it," she said softly.
Saren exited Huerta as he sent another message to Nihlus.
{Are you available? I'd like to have the human move in to my apartment until I can find her a proper place.}
Saren took a moment to wait for Nihlus's response.
{I'm twenty-five minutes from your apartment. For the rhetoric you usually spit out, you sure are investing a lot in this woman.}
While he strolled through the Presidium and kept mind of where he was going, Saren typed up another message.
{I said it once, and I'll say it again: I'm not made of stone, and I'm not sure what else I could've done for her in the condition I found her in. She was ill, injured, and throwing a credit chit at her wouldn't solve all of her problems. Now stop complaining and head to my apartment. I'll meet you there.}
Saren returned to his apartment to find Nihlus reclined on the couch.
"The code for the emergency key is still 0451? Really?" Nihlus drawled.
Saren sighed before he approached Nihlus and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"Help me start setting up the guest room for her," Saren instructed.
The two got to work setting the bed for Jane and moving the dextro-based meds and toiletries out of the guest bathroom and putting them in a hallway closet. It didn't take much long for the two Spectres to ensure the guest room was tidy before Saren started making a list of supplies they would have to get.
"Since you seem so accustomed to human culture already," Saren advised, "I'm going to hand you the responsibility to find something she might like to have in the pantry for her as well as several changes of clothes. I'll be getting her whatever medication and other items she'll need on a daily basis."
"You're sure have quite the list of necessary objects here," Nihlus commented, eyes scrolling down the list, "you're basically preparing to have her live here for quite a while."
"I…cannot truly predict how long I will have to rehabilitate her," Saren admitted.
Once they stepped out of the apartment, the two went their separate ways in the ward marketplace, looking for the list of needs Jane would have becoming accustomed to life on the Citadel now that she'd finally moved off of Earth. Saren had looked up human female anatomy the day after Jane had been brought to the Citadel in case he would need to help her directly. Plopping down the basket of goods at the cashier register, the asari gave him an awkward glance.
"These are human products," the asari clerk mentioned.
"Don't ask," Saren groaned, pulling out his omni-tool to pay the bill.
After receiving the payment, the asari placed the items into shopping bags and handed them to Saren.
"Well, then," she smiled, "have a nice day."
Saren walked out with at least six bags full of various products that were apparently necessary for daily function. It was embarrassing as he waltzed over to the taxi station, earning suspicious glances from people he waddled by on the way. Finally sitting down in a taxi, he quickly called Nihlus on his omni-tool.
"Hey, Nihlus," Saren asked, "did you get everything?"
{I still have a few more items left to buy,} Nihlus answered over the com-link.
"Good. I just finished up fetching everything on the essentials list. I'll see you back at the apartment," Saren finished.
He ended the call, but not before Nihlus managed to get through:
{Already? What did you do? Run through the store?}
Saren heard the last bit of the blurt from Nihlus, and he couldn't help but facepalm at the remark. Saren returned to his apartment, carefully carrying in everything he could and placing the bags around the living room. He collapsed on the couch with a sigh, before checking his omni-tool on the latest message from Huerta about Jane's health. Where was Nihlus? What was he still doing at the marketplace? After a moment of silence, Saren sent a message to his protege:
{Nihlus, you'd better not have gotten yourself into trouble.}
Nihlus quickly typed back.
{You do realize I'm still picking through clothes, right? Finding the right food was easy, the clothes are a different issue altogether.}
Saren groaned as he reached for the TV remote. He may have felt confident that he gave the information about Jane's measurements along the way to the market, but he suspected someone might be distracting Nihlus. For now, Saren switched to a news channel.
Nihlus was at a human clothes store like he said he was, however, his priorities had quickly shifted as to why he was there.
"So, you call this a bean-bag?" he asked with great curiosity.
Naturally, the headwear was designed for rounder heads, so Nihlus' fringe did cause the fabric to stretch.
"It's called a beanie," the store clerk corrected.
"Ooooh. A bean-y," Nihlus, unlike most of his older peers, was completely infatuated by human culture, style, and history.
Perhaps it was his overall ties to the Hierarchy and how distanced he became due to his own uprising, but he couldn't help but need to know more about it. Satisfied with piquing his curiosity, Nihlus bought a couple beanies of different colors.
Donning a navy blue hoodie, a black beanie, and some headphones he also purchased for himself to listen to music more privately, he strolled out with four bags, three for Jane, and one with fresh human apparel for himself. He would later trim it down to fit his own body at home after dropping off Jane's clothes.
By the time Nihlus reached the apartment, he burst through the door.
"Saren, I got the woman's clothes as ordered," Nihlus greeted, "should I put them in the guest room for the time being?"
Saren simply glared back with abject shock.
"Spirits! What happened to you?!" Saren exclaimed.
"Bought some human apparel. I think it looks nice," the protege answered, twirling about to see himself in the mirror.
All the while, all Saren could do was give Nihlus a blank stare. Nihlus quickly disappeared into the guest room before bolting back to the door.
"Well, Saren, I've got a few tweaks to make before I can properly wear this in public, but I'll see you later. Maybe when the human woman of yours has fully healed. Good day!"
Saren's mandibles flared as Nihlus closed the door behind him.
"Unbelievable," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes.
With Jane still recovering, Saren received an assignment from the Council. He took several seconds to read the message after he heard the ping from his omni-tool:
{Spectre Arterius,
We are aware you had only returned not a week ago, but we began to hear rumors from C-Sec about a Red Sand ring circulating from the Attican Traverse to the Citadel. Currently, C-Sec is experiencing some…difficulties working around regulations. Go in, collect everything they could find, and take out the ring, wherever it takes you.
Sparatus}
Saren quickly rose to his feet and made his way to the door. He paused one last time to look behind him, reflecting upon how unprepared he physically was to have another in his household. With little time to think of how he would have to adapt to the upcoming change, Saren stepped out of the apartment and sauntered through the Presidium, making his way to the docking bay. He planned on quickly heading to the wards to pass by the C-Sec HQ and follow the leads they couldn't pursue. If not, follow them to wherever they may lead. It didn't take long for the Spectre to stop by the headquarters and some across a turian C-Sec officer.
"Eeey, if it isn't the Grim Reaper himself!" Decian quipped, "what can I do for you, Spectre?"
"I'll be picking up your case with the Red Sand ring. Clearly, you guys are still stuck, going in circles, so I thought I'd pick up where you'd left off," Saren answered.
Decian nodded.
"Right, that infinite loop. If none of us can, then certainly a spook like you can."
Chellick led Saren into the headquarters, making their way towards his office.
"We've managed to follow the trail to some really seedy bars, but that's about it. I doubt you'd find any problem killing anything that moves in there. Chances are the ratio of 'innocents' to criminals is so small, you'd be doing the district a service more than you'd be committing a massacre. While you're there, do us all a favor and kill the club owner Fist."
Walking into the heart of the station, Chellick whipped out a datapad and handed it to Saren. The turian Spectre took a moment to read the profile.
"As one of the humans around C-Sec says it, the bastard's got every single dirty finger and toe in every single pie," Chellick explained.
"What's a pie?" Saren asked shrewdly.
"Some sort of human pastry. Basically, he's got a lot of ties, and most of the externalities we can't deal with off this station feed in directly through that little snot," the officer continued, "basically, you shut him down, you could easily give the rest of us a good few months to gather ourselves and start isolating the smaller things on the Citadel."
"Thank you, Chellick. I'll be on my way."
Chellick nodded just as Saren stepped out of the headquarters. With an objective in mind, he arrived at the docking bay and sauntered over to the shuttle.