A/N

Some thing I should probably clarify with my timeline here. This does generally follow the Mass Effect(owned by Bioware and Microsoft) timeline though I do alter slightly as to the relation between humans and other species. This does take place during the FCW, but it is slightly altered to the tail end rather than just beginning. I also mentioned Asari and human interaction because I feel the Asari and Salarian were much more laxed when it came to humans than the Turians. It was also never mentioned as to how the other species interacted but there were no wars between the humans and other races so I assume they got along in a peaceful sense. Thank you guys for giving this a chance and without further delay we insert the coin for good times…

Why? Why did I do that? I-I had no right.

You did it because it felt good.

Yeah, but…no. It felt wrong.

Kitana absently walked down a random street, heavily engaged in an internal conflict with her Other Self, she would call it, as she munched on a bizarre shaped fruit she had stolen from one of the street side vendors. She had perfected the technique over the past few months and it began to show. She would engage the man in conversation, wait until he turned his back and quickly tuck the food item between her legs, making sure the baggy clothing was covering any bulges. Only twice was she ever noticed but only once she was arrested.

Her argument was cut short as she shuddered at what she had to do to 'convince' the man to free her. She never looked herself in the mirror for a month after that and could still feel a burning sensation in the back of her throat. She stopped her movements and cleared her throat twice. It was more of a mental tick she had developed than any physical need. Sighing and shaking her head, she took another bite of the sweet fruit as she continued her mental scolding. She was truly confused by her previous actions.

What the hell made me snap like that? I've always been in more control than that. Hell, I never even shot that Sandy when he snuck into the apartment. That woman…

Was shit and deserved the death sentence. She was selling her daughters for fuck's sake!

That is not my damn place to judge! I have no right in telling people how to live their lives. And that is what she was doing. Living.

Yes, but at the expense of her own children. Selling yourself is one thing. Selling ones you're supposed to love is a whole different thing. She deserved to die and you had a gun. No other option. Besides, you know how the precious 'Alliance' handles things. Don't think I didn't notice that throat clearing earlier.

Kitana tried to avert her eyes away from herself. She couldn't escape herself however. No matter how hard she tried, she would never escape the voice. Though on cases such as this, maybe it was right.

No. I'm supposed to focus on my own survival and escaping this hell hole. Even if it means-

Joining those Warpigs? HA.

The laughter was harsh in her head and she could almost hear it echo in her ears. She then realized it was her own.

The conversation continued but she felt her will and voice wavering and losing its edge in the fight. Especially when it reminded her of the job Finch expected an answer for in less than eleven hours.

You are too close to this mission. You have to say no.

I can't. There's too much profit to be gained in a job of this level.

No, you have too much of a past with Hornor. You'd lose focus and fuck up. You would end up killed.

Once again the voice was right. It always was. That was what it was meant to do. Be right. Especially in situations liken these. It just showed her how naïve she still was. Yes, she learned to live on her own for two years. Yes she was skilled with a gun and found a way to forcefully mature herself. But she was still out of control with her emotions.

Just shut up.

No.

Get the fuck away from me. I want to be alone.

You're never alone and you're always alone.

I need to rest. Need to think properly.

That last sentence hit her closer than she could have imagined. She discarded the remaining fruit in the streets and continued down her usual path of ducking in between alley ways, making doubly sure to avoid letting people seeing her shirt. It was still splattered with blood droplets. She was rounding a corner when she spotted three alliance officers walking in her direction.

With a muffled gasp and quick turn of the heels, she flung herself around in the opposite direction and safely secured herself next to a dumpster and knelt thee, holding her legs against her chest and flattened her body against the wall behind stayed in this position for several long minutes as she listened for the officers to pass by. The sun's rays reflecting off the barrels of the pistols at their hips danced around on the ground like a playful sprite, signaling their location and telling her when they had passed. With a silent breath of relief she immediately picked herself up, brushed herself of dirt and began speed walking to the one place where she could hide out for the next several hours, or until the daylight itself was spent if that need be.

The Library. And it was true, many Street Walkers, as children and adults alike that were forced into this type of life course were called, often sought the refuge of the slate grey building. It was built by the Alliance and small donations made by local schools had constructed a Library in hopes of offering education to those who were unable to attend the private schools that refused to allow free rides to students. Public schools were often burned down or destroyed by bombs and gunfire, so the city had never rebuilt them or had plans on opening more.

\They instead funded Private schools. And they were built like mini fortresses. The 'windows' were transparent crystalline metals that were bullet proof to almost all small arms weaponry. This was how the Library was built as well. Though it was built with the intention of housing mostly Walkers, many students began taking up their time there, resulting in armed security and special 'windows'. It was a half hour walk but luckily the voice in Kitana's head seemed to have gotten its piece out and was finished with its lecturing, leaving her alone and in blissful quietness. At least for the time anyway. It had a nasty habit of rearing its ugly head when she least wanted it, but needed it the most. As she approached the gray, bleak, featureless building, her eyes rested on a small plaque that served as the only décor on the outside of the building.

This building is hereby erected and christened after its founder Matthew Hatchell. With his honor and courage, he saw into the glistening heart of a thriving city and extended his reach toward the bottom and plucked from it, a dark underbelly, long forgotten and given up on. With his courage, he saw to build a refuge for those who were not fortunate or blessed to attend a life of modesty and morals. With open arms, we welcome you to the Hatchell Library of Lower Philly.

A snarl tugged at her lip and she angrily rolled her eyes as she entered the automated doors. The plaque immortalized the man when all he really did was build another alliance building and protect his little Warpigs and precious money grubbing parasites that lined his pocket. The man was nothing more than a crook and a perverted beast.

And she knew it. She met him once, a year ago. He was signing autographs for younger children in foster families and making a public holo-vid interview. It was what she saw of him afterwards that shocked her to the reality of what all people really are behind closed doors. She accidentally stumbled into his private room he kept locked from the public almost everyday. It was this day he had been in a too much of a rush, he failed to notice it hadn't locked securely and allowed for any passerby to see inside. The door had cracked a good five inches and she witnessed the Great Hero of the underbelly on his, raping a poor girl.

She was gagged and bound. A small gasp had escaped her before she could stop it and he turned violently to her.

"You're either gonna join or get the FUCK OUT!"

Luckily he hadn't fully averted his eyes from the eighteen year old and he never saw her face. She ran out through a crowd of people and just forgot the whole thing.

She snapped from her memory daze and continued through the library which was much like its outer counterpart; barren of any decoration and bleak as hell. There were twenty shelves that were arranged in even rows that had tables and chairs placed in neat little groups between the aisles and main entrance foyer. Three receptionists stood at a counter and Kitana had no doubt they were armed. They all looked tired and scared, a blonde haired woman was constantly shifting her eyes back and forth, despite there being only fifteen or so people in the entire building. Five of them were guards.

Kitana made her way to the table tucked away furthest from the door and was angled so she could see everyone who entered or left the building. Her back was securely snuggled against the wall, shotgun disarmed and tucked away in its bag. The chairs were hard, uncomfortable and she could feel its splintered edges pricking at her skin. She propped her elbows on the table, cupped her head between her hands and once more tried to seek reason in a chaotic situation. She had been like this for some time and had unknowingly slipped off into simple thought wheel turned to agonizing nightmares as the memories of the Orphanage began cascading through her mind like raging meteorites.

Blood. Sweat. Crying. Kill. Beatings. Savagery. Instincts. Kill. Animosity. Yelling. Cheering. KILL. Biotics flaring. Bodies flying. Screaming. Shouting. SURVIVE. Shouting. Breaking glass. Running.

She awoke with a yelp and covered in sweat. Her breathing became ragged and her heart was beating too rapidly for her to control it with her mind. Still hyperventilating she closed her eyes and began taking deep breaths. Forcing her breathing to become slower and deliberate. After a span of two minutes or more, she finally began regaining control of her body. That was until she heard a familiar voice speak from behind a mental veil.

"Are you ok Kitana?"

the smell of lavender and vanilla wafted in her senses and her heart once again began beating rapidly. A weak smile played across her face as a blush began digging itself on her cheeks.

"Yeah. *a sharp gulp of air* Just fine."