Author's note

BioWare owns the Mass Effect Franchise, and I thank them for it.

I suppose I need to give a trigger warning here for references to childhood abuse.

Enjoy and please review. It makes me happy!

Peace, love and oranges.

Chapter four: September: week one

It felt like I had barely fallen asleep when I was shaken awake. "Wha-?" I mumbled. "Leame 'lone."

"Stand to," a male voice said.

"The fuck?" I said. I squinted up at the clock, which said it was five to two.

"Stand to," the voice repeated. "We're on guard duty together."

"Listen buster, I went to sleep at midnight," I said. "I have had an hour and fifty five minutes of sleep."

"Somewhere someone is playing a violin for you, Shepard," the voice said boredly. "Get dressed. We need to be outside in five minutes."

I sighed and got out of bed. "What's your name?" I asked, pulling my trousers on.

"Mzu Thembani," he answered. "Senior recruit. Stop making small talk and get done. I don't want to be put on a charge on my first day back."

I finished lacing up my boots, grabbed my BOL and slung it over my shoulder. "Let's go," I said.

Mzu handed me a rifle. "Do you know how to use this?" he asked, leading the way out of the dorm.

"Yeah," I said, squinting down at the rifle. It was a Vindicator. I'd been trained using a Revenant, but I doubted there was much difference between the two.

"Good," Mzu answered. "Well, not really good since you're a kid, but good because you'll impress the admirals if you know how to shoot."

"Right," I said. "Thanks."

He walked over to the wall surrounding the compound and climbed up onto the parapet. "Up here," he said.

I climbed up next to him. "What are we looking out for?" I asked, squinting out across the desert.

He sighed and turned to me. "Nothing," he said. "This is a training facility. The odds of someone randomly deciding to attack us are remote."

"But then-," I began.

"Because in a year for me and two years for you we're going to be posted somewhere and be expected to know what to do when on guard duty," Mzu interrupted me. "Each pod gets a specific area that they need to guard, and each shift is two hours long. I think Ruben posted the roster for this week last night if you want to check it out."

I dug my datapad out of my satchel and turned it on. I first opened the folder that was called 'Shepard week one timetable.'

"Monday: wake up: 0400 hours. Breakfast 0430 hours. Combat: 0500 to 0700 hours. Com: 0700 to 0800 hours. Fitness: 0800 to 1000 hours. Weaponry and armoury: 1000 to 1200 hours. Lunch: 1200 to 1300 hours. Tech: 1300 to 1400 hours. Maths: 1400 to 1500 hours. Language: 1500 to 1600 hours. Earth history: 1600 to 1700 hours. Protocol training: 1700 to 1800 hours. Supper: 1800 to 1900 hours. Navigation: 1900 to 2000 hours. Quiet hour: 2000 hours to 2100 hours. News report: 2100 hours to 2200 hours. Recon: 2200 to 2400 hours,' the first column read.

I must have made a noise, because Mzu said, "Everything alright, Shepard?"

"Everything's wonderful," I said. "I might have to forfeit sleep, but for the rest everything is fine."

I opened the guard roster which informed me that I would be on guard duty again from midnight until 0200 hours. So, basically I would be expected to survive the next twenty four hours on two hours of sleep.

"Want an endjie?" Mzu asked.

"A, what sorry?" I asked.

"An endjie," Mzu repeated. "You know, cigarette?"

"Oh right, endjie is the South African word for cigarette," I said. "Thanks, but I want my brother to receive a letter that says killed in action, not killed by lung cancer when I die."

"Suit yourself," Mzu said, shrugging and lighting up his cigarette. "All grunts start smoking in the end. It's a good way to handle stress."

"I won't," I protested.

"Yeah you will," Mzu said, laughing. "If you're freaked out about your schedule now at the start of things, you'll be having a heart attack come next week."

"Bullshit," I snapped. "I can handle it."

"No you can't," Mzu laughed. "I bet you eight hundred credits that you'll have had your first smoke by the hand-to-hand competition."

"Done," I snapped. "I need the creds in any case."

I maintained a stony silence until the waking-up siren shattered the desert quiet. Five minutes later Kyle and Liam showed up to relieve us. I returned to the dorm to retrieve my toiletries and went to shower. Midway through my shower the water shut off and I was forced to get out covered in soap suds. At half past four I was halfway to the mess room when I realised I had to make Nina's bed. I rushed back to the senior dorm, falling unclassically through the door.

"What's a grunt doing here?" one of the seniors asked.

"I beg your pardon, sir," I gasped. "I need to make Senior Recruit Ruben's bed."
"Go out and knock, then come in," the senior ordered.

"Yes sir," I said and went out again.

I knocked and waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually I opened the door. "I still need to eat. Can I please come in?" I asked.

"Do I care what you need to do, gruntling?" the senior asked.

I wondered exactly what would happen if I punched him. I decided it wasn't worth the broken fist, so I stood with my hands behind my back and waited.

"Alright, then," the senior sighed. "Come on in."

I spotted Nina on the other side of the room. "You're late," she said when I reached her.

"Yes ma'am," I said. "I was on guard duty."

"I don't really care what you were doing, Shepard," she snapped. "I expect you here at half past four in the morning in future."
"Aye aye ma'am," I said.

"Go on, make the bed," Nina said impatiently.

She had the top bunk, which meant I had to climb onto the bed to make it. "Good enough," Nina said, when I sprang off the bed again. "Dismissed, Shepard."

I saluted and rushed from the room towards the mess room again, praying that there would be coffee. I had had too little sleep for this kind of crap. When I reached the front of queue I was given my customary midget's bowl of porridge and a bowl of fruit salad. "Coffee?" I asked.

"Supplies didn't come through," the catering corps person said.

"No coffee?" I asked in desperation.

"Sorry," the catering corps person said.

Crap crap crap. My head started pounding, a sign of coffee withdrawal. I turned to find Ash, only to nearly walk into a senior.

"Watch it grunt," he snapped.

"Sorry sir," I mumbled, wanting to scream at him.

"Yeah, I'll make you sorry," the senior said and hit my tray out of my hands.

I watched it calmly as it fell and looked up at him. "Thank you, sir," I said, and saluted.

The senior had either been expecting me to swear at him or burst into tears, for he did a double-take. "What's your name, grunt?" he asked.

"Jane Shepard, sir," I said.

"Right, Shepard," the grunt said. "I'm Scipio Giovanni, and I'll be watching you."

"Very good sir," I said mildly. I waited until he'd moved past me before going to where Ash, Zac and Kaidan were sitting.

"Are you alright?" Ash asked the moment I sat down.

"Yeah," I said. "Why?"
"Well, that senior just…oh never mind," Ash said. "Do you want some of my porridge?"
I could see Giovanni watching me from across the room. "No, I'm good," I said.

"I can't believe there's no coffee," Zac, whose entire uniform was sopping wet, said.

"Me neither," I mumbled. "What happened to your uniform, Tobrin?"

"I had to take Thembani his toiletries in the shower, and two of the other seniors pushed me in," Zac answered. "I didn't have time to change."

"How are the batman duties going?" I asked.

"Crap," Kaidan mumbled, scraping his porridge clean. I tried not to let my stomach grumble. "Giovanni's a prick. I spent half an hour making his bed because the duvet wasn't straight enough."

"I was on guard duty with Thembani," I said. "You two are lucky, he seems alright."

"Yeah, he is," Zac said. "What was guard duty like?"

"Dull as shit," I answered. "And best news is I'm on again at midnight."

"I'm on now with O'Neal," Kaidan said.

"We'll let you know what Brawne teaches us," I said.

"Let's get going," Ash advised, finishing her fruit salad.

We got up and walked to the gymnasium where Admiral Brawne and the rest of the class were waiting for us.

"Good morning Pod 3 and Pod 4," Admiral Brawne said in his mechanical voice.

"Good morning sir," we said dully.

"That's the spirit," Admiral Brawne said. "So, you've all survived the orientation phase, which means the seniors are now engaging in some grunt ragging. I'm sure you're all having fun."

"Is this man for real?" Ash asked in horror.

"We are going into the conference room now," Admiral Brawne continued, ignoring the uncomfortable mumbling of the other recruits. "Follow me please."

We followed him into the conference room next to the gymnasium. Ash and I chose seats in the middle of the room and took our datapads out. "Now, the most important thing about being in a combat situation is to keep calm," Admiral Brawne said. "If you are panicking about the fact that the enemy consists of krogan, or there are twice as many of them as there are of you, you will not read the recon scout's report properly and you will make mistakes. And in war, ladies and gentlemen, mistakes cost lives."

"I didn't know we are at war," Zac mumbled.

"Life's a war, grunt Tobrin," I mumbled back.

"Now, say a recon scout arrived at your side and gave you a combat map that looked like this," Admiral Brawne continued, clicking a button on the terminal in front of him. A combat map appeared on the screen above his head. "Firstly, what would you say the enemy's position is, looking at this map?"
"Two above, six below," I mumbled to Ash as Cat's hand shot into the air. "Adequate cover on our side, but enemy's position is strategically better than ours."

"Tell him," Ash whispered. I shook my head.

"McDougal," Admiral Brawne said.

"There are two snipers on the balcony and six soldiers at ground level," Cat said. "The snipers give them a strategically advantageous position, as it is difficult to shoot someone above you."

"Very good, McDougal," Admiral Brawne said. "Now, let us see, Rosiensky, how would you proceed with this information?"

"I'd kill them sir," the Pod 4 boy said.

"Yes, Rosiensky, that is the best way to proceed, but where would you start?" Admiral Brawne asked. "Don't scratch your head, boy, it makes you look gormless."

"I don't know sir," Rosiensky said at last.

"Think, boy," Admiral Brawne said. "Are you capable of that? No? Very well, Holt, perhaps you can answer this question."

"Start from the top," Holt answered. "Like the Pod 3 girl said, the snipers are a strategic advantage, because they can see you, but you can't see them. If you take them out, you can easily get rid of the others."

"Alright then, Shepard, how would you do this?" Admiral Brawne said.

I frowned, staring up at the screen. "You can't have anything less than three people," I said.

"Three?" Cat asked.

"Do you have a problem, McDougal?" Admiral Brawne asked.

"Sir, you need at least five people for this," Cat said. "Look." She got up and went over to the screen. "It'll take two people for the two snipers, here and here." She pointed at the two cover points about fifty feet from the balcony. "They'd need to be snipers too, since this is so far out. The other three would be here," she pointed to a line of cover about ten feet from the balcony. "They'd take care of the soldiers on the ground."

"Fair enough, McDougal," Admiral Brawne said. "Shepard, why do you say we only need three? Come show us on the map."

I got up and passed Cat on the way to the map. She gave me a venomous look. "If you put two soldiers here and here," I said, touching two places of cover five feet from the balcony.

"The snipers would have to lean out to shoot them, providing the third soldier with a clear shot," Cat exclaimed excitedly. "I knew it."

"Do you mind?" I asked irritably. She fell silent. "Yes, McDougal is right, they would have to lean out, but no soldier in the galaxy would be that stupid. These two would provide covering fire with the troops on the ground whilst the third went here," I traced a path behind what appeared to be a line of crates to a flight of stairs. "If the soldier kept low and was quick, he'd be able to flank the snipers from here and take them out. Of course, he'd need to be a good shot, as there is absolutely no cover from the snipers on the balcony. Should he succeed, his squad would now have the strategic advantage as he has the higher ground."

Admiral Brawne actually looked impressed. "Very good, Shepard, that is exactly right," he said. "As you said, the third soldier would need to be a good shot, and if he fails, his squad would be worse off. However, a squad of four to six people should work just as well. Any more, and there would not be enough cover for everyone."

Cat threw me a scowl and I smiled sweetly back.

"That was pretty cool actually," Ash said as we left the room after the session. "He's a better instructor than he appears."

"Guess his programming must be really good," I said.

"Jane," Ash said, whacking my arm. "Come on, we need to get to com in room seventy three."

Cat looked a lot like her father. His hair was red like hers and they both had freckles. "Settle down," Commander McDougal said. We were having communication with all the junior recruits in the academy. "Good morning and welcome to com. Here I will be training you how to communicate when in the army. That means you will be learning the lingo, the alphabet and the ranks. Now, how many of you come from a military family?"

Less than half of us raised our hands. The majority of these were the Pod 2 recruits. "I trust you know at least some of the lingo then," Commander McDougal said. We nodded. "Never mind, the rest of you will pick it up quickly enough. Now, on your datapads is a document titled 'Marine terminology made easy'. Open it for me."

I opened it and read the first line. 'Acknowledged,' it said. 'To state that you have heard an order or remark. Different to affirmative, which means yes.'

When we had been younger, my father had taught us the phonetic alphabet and the army terminology. To ensure that we remembered it, we had to speak solely in the terminology. It drove Mom mad. Example: dinner time when I was about seven years old. John was nine and Jason was four.

Dad: Janey, pass the salt.

Me: Aye aye sir.

Dad: Jean, you did well in the hand-to-hand drills.

Jean: Acknowledged.

John: Titch, can I have your stew. ("Titch" glares at her older brother). Belay that, I can do without. When do we go groundside?
On and on. The point being, I knew the phonetic alphabet and other communication systems so well that I sometimes spoke like that in casual conversation. I hated com class because of this, and also because it gave Cat the chance to show us how much she knew and how little we grunts knew.

That first class Commander McDougal had us spell our names out to the others in the phonetic alphabet. As there were seventy two of us, this took quite a while. Finally he came to me.

"First tell us your name in English," he said.

"Shepard, sir," I said.

"Ah yes, Jean Shepard," Commander McDougal said. "I knew your father."

"I'm Jane Shepard sir," I said. "Jean is-was my twin."

"Oh," Commander McDougal said, clearly taken aback. "Fire away then, Shepard."

"Aye aye, sir," I said. "Juliette Alpha November Echo Sierra Hotel Echo Papa Alpha Romeo Delta."

"Very good, Shepard," Commander McDougal said. "Perhaps with a little less hesitation in the next one. Lives are lost through hesitation."

"Yes sir," I said impassively.

"If you need help, speak to Catlin," he went on. "She's in your pod and she is always happy to help."

I sighed. "Acknowledged," I said and sat down again.

Our first fitness session was something else again. At the beginning I had a feeling that Commander Anderson could be either very nice or very awful. By the end of the session I was certain he would not be nice.

We gathered in the gymnasium, all of us dressed in our PT gear. "Right, that's enough," Commander Anderson said as he came in although none of us were talking. He stood in front of us and surveyed us all in apparent disappointment. "So these are the best the Alliance can come up with?" he asked. "A pity. When I was training here there were no women and everyone was taller than me. Now then, since I can't be bothered to learn your names I'll be giving you nicknames that I think best capture your essence. If you don't like your nickname, you can bring it up, but chances are I won't give a flying fuck what you think. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," we mumbled respectfully.

"Good," Commander Anderson said. "Now, rule number one in my gymnasium: you speak when spoken to. Rule number two: you are only allowed to stop doing an exercise if you are literally on the verge of death. Rule number three: if you hesitate when I give you an order, you will drop for ten without me having to tell you to. Rule number four: I expect to see a marked improvement when I come back in six weeks' time, or else I will be seriously fucking pissed, and you don't want to see that. Finally, rule number five: if I say you can do better, you can. I have been doing this for far longer than any of you and I actually know what I'm doing." He paused to glare at us all. "Now then, Lumps," he said, looking at Bridget. "Take these two idiot pods for a warm-up, then meet me outside. I need a fag."
Bridget scowled, but led us through an intensive warm-up. When we were done, we went outside to where Commander Anderson was busy standing next to a pile of backpacks and smoking. "Are they warm, Lumps?" he asked.

"Yes sir," Bridget said.

Commander Anderson glared at us some more. "God, if the enemy had to see you lot now they'd fall over laughing," he mumbled.

"Are we at war, sir?" Sven blurted out.

Commander Anderson looked him up and down. "Maybe you haven't been paying attention to the news reports, Lurch, but we have batarian pirates trying to take a few of our colonies, we, and we have vindictive turians who are looking for revenge for the First Contact War," he said coldly. "I would say that that is a state of war, wouldn't you?"

"I-," Sven began. Cat nudged him in the ribs. "Yes sir," he said.

Commander Anderson grinned. "Good thing you have Arse-Lick here to keep you in check, Lurch," he said.

Ash and I smirked at each other. Neither of us liked Cat. Unfortunately Commander Anderson saw us. "What are you two smiling at?" he snapped. "Laughing at Arse-Lick's name, Ken and Barbie?" I frowned. "What, Ken, not a fan of your own name?"
"Well, sir, I disapprove on two grounds," I said. I heard Ash sigh loudly. "See, Ken is both blonde and a dude. I don't fit either of those criteria." I saw Anderson open his mouth and dropped for ten.

"When Ken has finished making love to the earth, we can actually start with the lesson," Commander Anderson said, lighting up another cigarette.

I was wheezing a bit when I stood up. "Well done, Ken, now we all know what the missionary position is really about," he said. "I'm sure Barbie looks forward to when she can get you alone now. Now then, Daisy, perhaps you can pick up this backpack for me?"

The Pod 4 girl who was the recipient of that nickname stepped forward and picked the backpack up. She gave a loud squeal and dropped it again.

"Atta girl, Daisy," Commander Anderson said boredly.

"It's heavy sir," Daisy said.

"Yes it is Daisy, it weighs ten kilograms," Commander Anderson said. "Your task for the next six weeks is to strengthen yourself up enough to be able to run around the entire compound with that on your back in under half-an-hour." There were collective gasps and groans. "If you think that's bad, by the end of your second year you need to be able to run around the compound with pack that weighs five times that," he snapped. "Now, for today we will just be taking a run around the compound. We will be running, mind, not walking, not jogging, not strolling, running. We stick together. A squad is only as strong as its weakest soldier and the same applies here. We are only as fast as our slowest runner."

I was willing to bet my next meal that the slowest runner would be me. I was fast on sprints, but because of my asthma I could not do well on long distance. Coupled in with that was the fact that I had only slept an hour and a bit the previous night, had not had my much-needed daily cup of Cho and had not eaten anything since my rather measly supper the night before, and I was wondering if I would pass out on the run.

"You look worried, Ken," Commander Anderson said.

"Well, sir the fact is you said we are as fast as our slowest runner, and with me in the mix, we might as well throw in the towel," I said. "The snails will have time to slime the whole place up."

It may have been the light, but I could have sworn his lips twitched. "Well, then it is my job to whip your sorry behind into shape, Ken," he snapped. Maybe not. He blew on his whistle. "Let's go, grunts," he bellowed.

We started off. The beginning was not too bad. Kaidan set us off at quite a pace and we all sprinted to keep up.

"Slow down there, Charles Manson," Commander Anderson shouted. "Grub and Ken won't be able to keep up soon."

I looked around to see who Grub was and came eyeball to eyeball with Zac, who was almost purple in his efforts to keep pace.

"Sorry, sir, I couldn't remember if it's 'you're as slow as your fastest runner' or 'as fast as your slowest runner'," Kaidan called over his shoulder. How the hell was this super-ninja not out of breath yet? I hated him.

"The latter Mr Manson, so slow down before I make you drop for fifty," Commander Anderson shouted. He was running directly behind Zac and me.

After a few minutes it felt like I was going to die. My lungs were tight, my head swum and my legs trembled.

When we were seven, Dad started teaching us how to do drills. Hold the rifle lengthways in front of you with both hands. Raise your arms straight up above your heads. Drop down for five. Stand up. Jump with bent knees. Do five squats. Repeat. On and on and on until my legs were trembling, my lungs were aching and my arms were on fire. Dad saw my face. "Don't you dare stop," he said.

I tried to keep going, but eventually I couldn't. I dropped the rifle and bent, my hands on my knees. Dad didn't say anything, just picked the rifle up. When I had gotten my breath back, I straightened. He walked to stand before me and drove the butt of the rifle hard into my stomach. I collapsed, my lungs refusing to give me air. He stood over me, watching me gasp incoherently.

"Do you feel how that feels?" he asked me. I nodded, still gasping. "You're only allowed to stop if you're feeling like that," he said. "Do you understand, Jane?" I nodded again. "I said: 'do you understand, Jane?'."

This time I managed a 'yes sir.' The point here is not that my father was an asshole. That goes pretty much without saying. A man that takes his five year old daughter out of the school system because she struggles with math, and instead teaches her how to fire a gun is pretty twisted. The point is that I learned my lesson and I learnt it well. I did not once since that day stop. I may do it slowly, I may struggle, my shitty lungs may betray me, but I will get the job done. Which is why, even though I felt like I might collapse at any minute, I finished the run.

Commander Anderson wasn't even out of breath when we finished. He looked around in disgust as we collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.

"That may well have been the crappest display I have ever seen from a grunt group," he snapped. "Get up before your legs seize up."

We all groaned as we stood up. "The best humanity has to offer," Commander Anderson groaned. "Go get changed. I'm sure there's some instructor out there who has to deal with you next."

"I hate this place," Zac mumbled. "I want to go home."

"We're all in this together, remember?" Kaidan said cheerfully.

"You're such an arse," Zac said. "You want running to be your extra exercise. What sane person does that?"
"What makes you think I'm sane?" Kaidan asked, grinning inanely. "Maybe I'm completely nuts."

"Caused by the B12 implant, no doubt," I mumbled. Kaidan levelled a glare at me. I smiled sweetly in return.

Weapons and armoury class was the first where I actually felt like I knew what was going on. Admiral Greyling gave us a plan for a Scorpion pistol and had us use it to assemble one. I didn't use the diagram and was finished within ten minutes. I spent the rest of the class hissing covert instructions to Ash, who seemed to have put her trigger where the stock was, and speaking to Admiral Greyling who was impressed to hear that the shotgun my father had taught me to use was a Katana, widely considered to be the best in the galaxy.

"The Venom is good, but it has a helluva kick," Admiral Greyling said. "The first time I shot a Venom, it literally dislocated my shoulder. I was out for a week. The Katana though, it's light, it's got a far bigger capacity, and it has an accuracy of point seven five per cent, to the Venom's point six eight. We have to teach you to use the Venom first, unfortunately. Have you ever used a sniper rifle, Shepard?"

"No, sir," I replied. "There wasn't really enough space on the ship for me to work on long-range shots."

"Hm, that's a shame," Admiral Greyling said, frowning. "You're the right build for a sniper: you know, small, slight. Makes you a smaller target."

"Um, thanks, I suppose," I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cat glaring at me.

Needless to say, I was feeling very good about myself when it came to lunch time, if a bit light-headed. Never before had that single cracker, tiny pot of yoghurt, canned apple, tomato, cheese and lettuce looked so good.

"Thank you and have a great day," I said to the server.

She glared at me. "Fuck you," she said.

I turned around and walked straight into Cat, dropping my tray onto the floor. "What the fuck?" I shouted.

"Teacher's pet," she snarled at me.

"You're calling me a teacher's pet?" I asked. "Your dad told me to ask you for help in his course. What gets more teacher's petty than that?"
"Daddy knows I'm good at com," Cat said.

"Well, whoopdedoo for you," I snapped. "You seem to be good at everything: com, fitness, combat, weaponry. The only thing I'm good at is using guns. It is the only place I actually have a chance of coming in first, so I'm going to do it. I'm sick of watching on the side-lines as other people beat me. Now, if you'll excuse me, it seems I have to spend another lunch hour staring at other people eat."

I pushed past her and joined Ash, Zac and Ismaeel.

"She's such a bitch," Zac said sympathetically.

"Every time I see her, I feel like punching her in the face," Ismaeel agreed. "Which would not be a smart thing to do."

"Never mind," Ash said sympathetically. "Have one of my crackers."

The afternoon got progressively worse. Our math teacher could well have been speaking Greek to us for all the good it did me, most of my knowledge on Earth's history came from novels with questionable accuracy, and in the tech simulation, the mech that I was supposed to be disabling exploded instead. The only silver lining on a gigantic and very dark cloud was my languages class. It came as a shock to all of us to discover that Kaidan couldn't speak any protha either. Unfortunately for them Kaya, our instructor, told him and Sven to suck it up, and spent the hour teaching us asari greetings, which I already knew. By the time it came to supper my head was pounding and I was looking forward to eating (finally) and having quiet hour, which would probably be spent on the mountain of homework that we'd been given.

"Ken, Grub," a voice called behind us as Ash, Zac and I walked into the mess room.

I supressed a sigh and turned around. "Yes sir," I said.

"You two did the crappest in the running today, so I need you to set up the gymnastics equipment in the gymnasium," Commander Anderson said.

"Now, sir?" Zac asked.

"Yes, Grub, now," Commander Anderson snapped.

"It's just, sir, I need to do my batman duties," Zac said. "I need to take supper to the senior dorm."

"Who are you batman to?" Commander Anderson asked.

"Thembani, sir," Zac said. "He was on guard this morning and wants to have supper in bed."

"Grub, I want you to come with me right now," Commander Anderson said. "Furthermore, I want you to tell Thembani to suck a dick, he is a recruit, same as you, and should get no preferential treatment."

"Yes sir," Zac said, smiling.

"I don't believe that is the correct response to an order," Commander Anderson said sternly.

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't," Zac spluttered.

"Haven't you read the dictionary that Commander McDougal gave you?" Commander Anderson asked. "Ken, how about you? Do you know the correct response to an order?"

"Yes sir," I said. "It's 'Aye aye sir' for a direct order, 'yes sir' for a general question and 'affirmative' for a question linked to a combat situation."

Commander Anderson gave me an odd look. "You're a spacer, aren't you?" he asked.

"That obvious, sir?" I asked.

"Well, an Earth Born or a Colony Kid wouldn't have known that," Commander Anderson said. "Not on his first day. How about you, Grub?"

"Earth Born," Zac answered. "For all the good it does me."

"Don't knock it, boy, I was born in London," Commander Anderson said. "You'll learn quickly enough. Either that or we'll kick you out."

"Or I'll die," Zac mumbled to himself. Either Anderson didn't hear him or chose to ignore him.

We started pulling mats out onto the gymnasium floor. "So, tell me about your family, Grub," Commander Anderson said.

"Born in London too sir," Zac said. "My father's an accountant for Striker and Sons and my mother is a nurse at Barts. I have a younger sister, Gabriella. She's eleven."

"Hm," Commander Anderson said, obviously uninterested. "And what about you, Ken?"

"What about me, sir?" I asked.

"Which ship were you born on?" Commander Anderson asked.

"The Hugo Grayson," I said. He raised his eyebrows. "My father was the Executive Officer. My mother was commander of the flight deck."

"I was sorry to hear that we had lost the Hugo Grayson," Commander Anderson remarked.

"Yes sir," I said. "Ashley Williams, um, Barbie, her father was the commanding officer."

"I knew Dirk Pieterse," Commander Anderson said. "He was a good man."

"Yes sir," I said.

"Do you have any family left?" Commander Anderson asked as we heaved a beam onto the floor.

"My younger brother, Jason," I said. "He's thirteen. And my aunt, Jennifer. She's a N3. Serves on the SSV Florence. But I lost my older brother and my twin sister too."

"Twin sister?" Commander Anderson asked in surprise. I looked up at him. "This twin, were you two identical?" he asked in feigned calmness.

"Well, sort of," I said. "Jean and I looked alike, but she is, I mean was, taller than me. She was five foot three and I'm four-five foot one."

Commander Anderson was silent until we had brought the last of the vaulting horses out. "Dismissed," was all he said.

"Do you think we can make supper?" Zac asked.

"Doubtful," I said.

Just as we reached the mess hall, the recruits started streaming out for their next class.

"And people ask how I stay thin?" I said, joining the rest of the grunts headed for navigation class.

We had quiet hour in the rec room and I spent the entire period trying desperately to answer math problems that consisted more of letters than numbers. Since I struggled to do simple arithmetic with sums that were above the four times table, throwing a bunch of xs and ys into the equation made my migraine even worse. Next to me Ash was busy translating asari phrases into English.

"Ash," I said, rubbing my eyes. "You need to teach me to do math."

"Only if you teach me to speak asari," Ash said, not looking up from her datapad.

"You have yourself a deal, Barbie," I said.

"Cool," Ash said. "We'll start tomorrow. What does l'jyesta'mne mean?"

"May the goddess watch over you," I answered. "What does six equals x squared plus x plus two mean?"

"Two," Ash answered. "I'm thinking of becoming Catholic."

"What?" I asked in astonishment.

"Well, think about it," Ash said. "You get Friday nights and Sundays off, whilst we'd be expected to train or stand guard during that time."

"So, you found God for some time off?" I asked uncertainly. "How can six equals x squared plus x plus two mean two?"

"Look," Ash said, handing me her datapad, a document open on the math problem in question. "Listen, my schedule is impossible. The only time off I get each day is this hour, and I'll probably spend the entire hour doing homework. If I can get the additional five hours that you have, I won't go completely batty from exhaustion."

"Six minus two equals x squared plus x?" I asked incredulously. "How is that possible?"

"Long story," Ash said. "I'll explain this weekend, alright?"

"Ok," I said. I quickly copied the rest of her answers and handed the datapad back.

"Jane," Ash said, frowning.

"Ash, I don't know what five times six equals, the odds of me knowing what x plus two x equals six means," I said.

"Five times six equals thirty and x plus two x equals six means two," Ash said, taking her datapad back. "Besides, maths is more about showing how you got the answer than about getting the answer."

"So, does that mean that x squared plus x plus two equals x squared plus two x?" I asked.

Ash looked mildly impressed. "It does actually," she said. "I'm quite impressed."

"What, do you have to be able to do math now to use logic?" I asked.

"No, Janey, it's just that most people who have done ten years of maths struggle with that premise," Ash said. She glanced up at the clock. "We need to get to recon."

Recon was a badly-timed class. I was exhausted and spent most of the class staring as Admiral Hackett explained to us how to do recon from an elevated position. Roll-call went by in a blur, and then I found myself back on the wall with Nina.

"Fag?" she asked, offering me the pack.

"No thanks," I said, shaking my head.

She laughed and lit up. "All grunts start smoking within their first year," she said.

"So I'm told," I said.

"What, think you won't become a chain-smoker?" she asked. "You'd be the first marine ever not to smoke. Stressful crap we have to put up with."

"I like to think I have slightly better self-control than most," I said. My stomach rumbled loudly.

"Keep telling yourself that, Shepard," Nina said. "Let's make it sweet. Bet you five hundred credits that you'll be smoking by the end of the month."

"Thanks," I said. "But I already bet Thembani eight hundred credits I won't be smoking by the time the hand-to-hand competition comes around. I don't want to be overconfident and lose a bunch of money."

"Well, just think Shepard," Nina said. "If you win, you'll have twenty three hundred credits to your name. Imagine what you can do in December week with that cash."

I glared at her. "Nice try," I snapped. I sighed and pulled my emergency chocolate from my BOL.

"What are you doing?" Nina asked.

"Eating my chocolate," I said calmly.

"Why?" Nina asked.

"Well, mainly because I haven't eaten at all today," I said.

"The emergency chocolate is for emergencies," Nina spluttered.

"Right," I said. "And I think that this counts as an emergency."

We spent the rest of the two hours in silence. When Pierre and Giovanni arrived at two o'clock, I went straight to the dorm. I didn't even bother to undress before falling into bed. I was sound asleep within seconds.

The rest of the week went on in the same wave of tiredness. I didn't have to stand guard during sleeping hours again, but I was fast learning that four hours sleep on the amount of work we did during the day was not nearly enough. Giovanni seemed to have decided that I was the best grunt to target. On three separate occasions he knocked my food tray out of my hand, he once peed on my bedding in full view of the rest of the dorm, threw my uniform into the showers, and one evening he stole my datapad so that I could not submit my homework. I was forced to do three hours of drills in the heat of the day.

"Why don't you report him?" Ash asked that night. It was Thursday, and we had both decided that we would do our laundry in quiet hour on Thursdays.

I tipped Nina's uniform into the tub on top of mine. "I can't," I said. "If I went to one of the admirals about this, it'd mean he's won. Besides, the seniors are allowed to torture us, it's all part of the process."

I winced as I plunged my hands into the tub. I was very sunburnt from the drills.

"Your skin's a funny colour now," Ash laughed. "Sort of orange."

"Yeah, thanks," I mumbled. My entire body ached, not just from the sun burn, but from the additional punishment it had sustained during the week.

Commander Anderson had spent the rest of the week doing weight-lifting with us. I was unsurprised to discover that I was unable to press more than eight kilos, and I was somewhat alarmed that Sven could press almost half my weight. On top of that, Admiral Brawne had started hand-to-hand combat with us. The first person I'd been paired with was Suang, who I was able to knock down quite easily. The second person I was paired with was Ismaeel. I'd gotten cocky, and this had resulted in me being knocked to the mat. I was glad my father hadn't been around to see this as I could imagine what his choice words would have been. The only class I was really enjoying was weapons and armoury, and that was only because I was good at it. Admiral Greyling had moved on to other, larger weapons' structure, but I was still way ahead of everyone else.

"Thought of what you're going to do tomorrow night?" Ash asked.

I shrugged. "Sleep probably," I said. I had originally planned to say a mass, but the prospect of a night where I didn't have to do anything was too good to miss. "How about you?"
"Same," Ash said. "We'll start your maths tuition on Sunday, alright?"

I nodded. "Can't wait," I said. I was sick of staring slack-jawed at the trainer as everyone else nodded in agreement at her far-out explanations.

The next morning I was woken up earlier than the siren by a loud shouting and banging. "What the hell?" I mumbled. The clock on the wall said it was twenty past one.

"Alenko?" I heard Mikhail, who shared a bunk with Kaidan ask.

"What's going on?" Pierre asked.

"It's Alenko," Mikhail answered. "I think he's having a fit or something."

Someone clicked the light on and we all crowded around Kaidan's bed. He was thrashing around, the sheets wet and tangled around his legs. A bloody froth ran from his mouth as he shouted. His eyes were shut.

"Holy hell," Bridget mumbled.

"I know first aid," Cat offered.

"Don't be ridiculous, McDougal, the man needs either a med or an exorcist," I snapped. "Mahlberg, go to the sick bay, then wake Ruben and Canning. They need to be here."

Sven nodded and ran from the room. Kaidan's thrashings slowly ceased as we waited until he finally lay still. Presently his eyes slowly opened.

"What happened?" he mumbled, his eyes glazed, his face shining with sweat. "Where am I?"

"He's disoriented," Cat said. "It's common after fits."
"McDougal, please shut up," Ismaeel snapped. "None of us want to hear your voice."

At that moment the door slammed open and Nina, Sven, Liam and the med rushed in. "What's the matter?" Nina asked sharply. "What's going on?"

"Alenko had a fit, ma'am," Cat said at once.

"How do you feel, boy?" the med asked, bending down and peering into Kaidan's eyes.

"I-don't know," Kaidan stammered. "I don't understand."

"Alright, stay calm," the med said. "Canning, help me take him to the sick bay."

Liam pulled Kaidan upright, and together they dragged him from the room. "Go back to bed," Nina ordered and left after them.

"What the hell was that?" Mikhail said the moment the door had swung shut.

"Alenko's a biotic," Zac said. "He has a B12 implant."

"I thought we'd already established that that is impossible," I said. "Maybe he's just epileptic."

"What makes you so sure he is a B12?" Bridget asked.

"My mum is a nurse," Zac said. "She taught me how to recognise the different scars. I'd bet my life that Alenko has a B12 implant."

"Alenko is sixteen, obviously he wouldn't have a B12," Cat said.

"I don't see what's so obvious about that," Pierre said.

"Well, the B12 was discontinued years before we were born," Cat said. "Why would they implant someone with something that's no longer useful?"
"How should I know?" Pierre snapped. "I'm just saying that obviously is a poor choice of words."
"Maybe he's not really sixteen," Sven suggested.

"Maybe he's not really a biotic," Ismaeel said. "Maybe he just has a scar in a rather unfortunate place."

"Well, whatever the case, I'm willing to bet that's the end of Alenko here," Bridget said. We all nodded in agreement.

To our surprise, Kaidan was present at breakfast. "How do you feel?" Cat asked in mock concern.

"Fine," Kaidan said shortly.

"Are you really a B12?" Sven asked. "Or did you lie about your age to get into the academy?"

"Jesus Mahlburg," Bridget groaned.
"Leave me alone," Kaidan snapped. He refused to speak to anyone for the rest of the day.

At five o'clock I left the protocol classroom. Owing to my religious affiliation, I had the rest of the evening off. I wanted to go straight to our bunker and to bed, but for some reason, my feet took me to the gymnasium. The gymnastics equipment was set up on the far end of the room. I went into the changing room and put on the leotard I'd been issued when I'd said that I wanted my additional exercise to be gymnastics. It was slightly too big, particularly around the chest, but it would do. I warmed up on the floor, then climbed onto the beam and walked along it.

When Jean and I were five we started doing karate. When I was about seven, we started competing and, being way smaller than other children of my age, it became clear to my father that I wouldn't be able to beat people in straight-up hand-to-hand. Instead of taking me out of karate, which is what he would normally have done, he asked one of the other marines on the ship to teach me the basics of gymnastics. The thinking behind it was that gymnastics would make me more supple and faster, making it harder for someone to hit me. For some reason, God has a sense of humour, and I was actually excellent at gymnastics, and for a while my father entered me into all kinds of competitions that I always won. When I was fourteen, he made me quit. I was too invested in gymnastics and not invested in the stuff that soldiers actually need to be good at.

I did a cartwheel along the beam. As much as I missed my family (with all my heart and almost continuously), there was a part of me that was relieved that he wasn't around anymore. Another case of Janey being a bad daughter. I sighed and did a back tuck, landing perfectly on my feet.

Somebody broke into applause. Either someone was watching me or my imagination was getting out of hand. I turned and saw Admiral Greyling standing on the floor below me. I sprang to attention, yanking my leotard up at the same time.

"As you were, junior recruit," he said, looking amused.

"Thank you, sir," I said. I sat down, so that my legs hung over the edge of the beam.

"You're very good," Admiral Greyling said. "I wouldn't have thought that a spacer would have had the opportunity to learn gymnastics."

"Yes sir, my dad had me learn," I said.

"So, what, were you in space your whole life, Shepard?" Admiral Greyling asked.

"Yes sir," I said. "The first time I came to Earth was this year when I joined up."
"This must be quite strange for you," he said. "Being on the same planet for so long."

"I guess," I said. "I mean, I'm used to it now. Back when I was in the children's home on the Citadel, I missed it more. When you're on a ship, you're in everyone's business and everyone is in your business. It's like a huge family. And the stars. I miss the stars most of all." I blushed and dropped my head.

"I look at what our people did to our homeworld, and I'm furious," Admiral Greyling said softly. "How could they leave us with this mess?"

I got up and started walking along the beam again. "So what are you doing in here, Shepard?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"I'm Catholic, so I have this time off," I explained. I looked behind me and did a back handspring.

"And you decided to have your religious awakening on a beam in the gymnasium?"

I laughed. "No, it's just, I can't sit still and think," I said. "I have some sort of brain defect or something. I have to be walking, moving, and I think clearest up here."

"I guess I can appreciate that," Admiral Greyling said. "Are you enjoying Del Sol?"

My face fell a tiny bit. "Yes sir, it's alright," I answered.

Admiral Greyling laughed. "If you like this place after a week here, then there's something wrong with you, Shepard," he said. "I left, God, thirteen years ago, and I still hate it. The thing is though, as horrible as their training is, it works. The Alliance marines are the best in the galaxy."

"It's just-," I began, wondering how to explain this to one of my superior officers. "There are things that I'm taught here that I'm really good at, and there are some things that I could probably learn with practice. And then there are some things that I'm so crap at, I will probably never get the hang of. And, I just don't get how they all fit together to make me a good soldier."

"I know, it feels like that in your first year," Admiral Greyling said. "In your senior year though, you start putting it together, and then it makes a whole lot more sense. I'll tell you this though, Shepard. There are going to be times where you've had enough of this whole damn mess, where you just want out. Keep at it though. I love my job, I love what I do. If you're really good, and I suspect you are, then all the pain will be worth it."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"And now I'd better go," he said. "I have to make training programmes for one hundred and thirty recruits, and they aren't going to write themselves. Good luck Shepard."

Author's note

Pretty short by my standards, but the next one ought to be longer and will include more surly Kaidan action.

Just so everyone is aware, my work schedule will be picking up next week, now that the festive season is over, so I might be slightly late in uploading the next chapter. For now, all I can wish you all is:

Peace, love and a hunky Canadian (with some oranges).