Present Day - Grissom Academy

Jack - formerly also known as Subject Zero, now legally Jacqueline Nought - leaned against a guardrail, arms crossed, and observed impassively as the cargo freighter zipped gracefully into the school's docking station - perfectly aligned despite double-timing the approach, which earned the vessel a yellow caution sign from the VI that oversaw the attachment alignment.

Guess Lt. Dumbass hasn't lost his touch.

Pushing away from her resting spot, the biotic stepped towards the airlock as it opened, disgorging the three passengers into the secure waiting area. After Cerberus' invasion of the school during the war, the ones in charge had made student protection top priority. Jack approved of the safety measures, although she was willing to wager that anyone who fucked with her students expecting to find helpless weaklings would be in for a rude awakening.

Shepard was in the lead, as always, the two men trailing behind her. They all looked exhausted, and had the bewildered expressions of people who couldn't quite believe the circumstances in which they found themselves. Nodding at Claire, the guard standing at the entrance, Jack called to the other two security personnel who were approaching her guests, "Hey, guys? She's with me. Let her through." When the men started to back away, she added, "Just her. Make sure you check the other two. Especially the little one - he might have a weapon stashed in his underoos."

"I've got your weapon right here, Jack," Jeff retorted, pointing at his crotch, as the tall, blond guard charged with searching him scowled, not amused by the potentially threatening remark, sarcastic or otherwise.

Pressing her advantage, Jack shook her head and smirked, "Pat 'em down good, Matt."

A bemused smile tugged at the corner of Shepard's mouth as she arrived in front of Jack, pulling the resisting woman into an embrace. "It's good to see you, Jack."

Jack scowled, but allowed the hug to run its course. "Still with the touchy-feely crap, huh, Shepard?"

Pulling away, the half-grin still in place, Sam said, "Only because I know how much you love it." She looked the biotic over, appraisingly. "You look good." Jack's long, dark hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, the sides of her head still shaved to display the artwork tattooed there. She was dressed conservatively, for her - black cargo pants tucked into heavy, black boots; a faded red t-shirt with the inscription "I See Stupid People," the bottom cut off just short enough to reveal an inch of flat midriff. She looked pretty much how Sam remembered her - her face a little older; her edges a little sharper.

Jack was definitely not one of those people who mellowed with age.

The instructor peered back into Shepard's face, giving her a quick scrutiny. "Yeah? Well, you look like hell," Jack informed her as Jeff and James, having received a thorough inspection from the security guards, joined them.

"Thanks for ordering the group grope, Jack," Jeff said, making a show of tugging his clothing back into place. "I haven't been touched so intimately in quite awhile."

"And whose fault is that?" Sam asked, with a raised eyebrow. Jeff shook his head sadly while Jack snorted in amusement.

"Well, if it isn't the psychotic biotic," James exclaimed with exaggerated delight, spreading his brawny arms as if inviting an enthusiastic embrace.

"The fuck, Shepard?" Jack asked in mock annoyance, hands on hips. "You can't even step out of the house without a big, stupid krogan tagging along?"

"Human. Big, stupid human," Jeff helpfully clarified.

"Why all the hate, guys?" James retorted, before raising an eyebrow at Jack. "You're just grumpy from wanting what you can't have." He punctuated his statement by flexing a pectoral muscle and offering a seductive pout that would have made an asari pole-dancer proud.

Jack's eyes rolled toward the ceiling as Sam held up her hands, palms out, in a peacekeeping gesture. "All right, now that we've gotten the pleasantries out of the way - is there somewhere we can talk?"

"My room," Jack said, "But only you."

All traces of humor vanished from his expression as Jeff took a step toward the petite woman, jabbing emphatically into the air between them with his index finger. "No. No way, Jack. Hope is my daughter, too. I need to hear what you have to say."

Jack crossed her arms over her modest chest. "Don't point that thing at me unless you want to lose it. Fair warning."

Jeff's countenance was turning red with outrage. "Fuck your fair warning..." He shrugged off a halfhearted attempt at restraint from Vega, brushing the other man's hand away in annoyance without so much as a glance in his direction. "No! Commander-Fucking-Shepard isn't my superior when it comes to our child, dammit! We're both..."

"Hey, hey!" Jack barked, interrupting his tirade, and almost looked surprised when everyone immediately piped down and turned to face her. Apparently, her teacher voice worked on adults, too. "Listen," she continued, more quietly. "I'm already breaking a kid's confidence by talking to any of you. That's a big deal to me, okay? I'm not doing it for a fucking audience. I'll say the bare minimum that's actually helpful to Shepard - alone. And if that isn't good enough, you can all turn around and get the hell out of here."

The pilot and biotic stared defiantly at each other until Sam wedged herself between them, using her body to force Jeff to take a few steps back. Catching his gaze, she said, softly, "Let me find out what she knows."

"Sam," Jeff protested, but she cut him off.

"I know. But the thing is, Jack trusts me. This isn't about our internal family stuff, okay? I'll fill you in on everything as soon as we're done." There was a long moment where Sam worried he might not go for it and this whole trip would be for nothing, but then Jeff's shoulders slumped in resignation, and before he could change his mind, Sam quickly turned to Jack and asked, "Is there someplace these guys can crash for a bit?"

"Yeah." Jack tilted her head toward one of the security guys. "Matt can show them to a vacant dorm room. B-wing, room 24 and 25," she said to the uniformed man, who gave a brisk nod.

Jeff let out a heavy sigh, still trying to recover his temper. "If I spend any more quality time with Matt, I'm gonna have to buy him dinner," he muttered, shooting a resentful glance out of the corner of his eye to where the guard stood, expressionless. "I'll wait on the ship."

"Jeff…"

"Just come find me as soon as you're done," he insisted, and Sam nodded.

"I promise. Try to get some sleep, okay?" She and James had napped during the flight, but Jeff hadn't slept since the few hours he'd caught on her couch the previous night. She'd called him right after she'd gotten the message from Jack on Hope's computer. He, in turn, had contacted his boss at Westerton, and explained the situation. The man had immediately agreed to allow Jeff to take as much leave as he required, as well as permission to "borrow" one of the decommissioned cargo ships from the hangar. It was old, but still flight-worthy, and had crew accommodations for up to six. It had taken the past twelve hours to get it prepped and travel to their current location.

Still clearly unhappy with the situation, Jeff turned to James. "You coming?"

"Nah, I'd kind of like to check this place out, if that's cool?" James said with an inquiring glance at Jack, who shrugged.

"Fine by me, just keep it down. The kids and staff are all bunked down for the night."

James started down the hallway to the left. The guard, Matt, moved to follow him, but Jack waved him off, and he returned to his post. With one last wounded look at Sam, Jeff turned and headed back through the security station to the ship. Watching him go, she felt a stab of guilt for not trying harder to convince Jack to allow him to stay, even though she knew arguing with the biotic was fruitless. The last thing she needed right now was more resentment between her and her husband.

"Thanks a lot, Jack," Sam said, bitterly, but the smaller woman brushed off her displeasure with an indifferent shrug.

"He'll get over it. You want to do this, or what?" Jack started walking away without waiting for a response.

With a final regretful glance over her shoulder, Sam followed Jack down the empty, dimly-lit corridor, the staccato cadence of their boot steps echoing in the silence.


Present Day - Unknown

It was the stillness that woke Hope the second time. Boredom, and the lingering effects of the sedative, had caused her to doze off again not long after Adam had issued his disturbing proclamation and then left her to mull over its meaning. She'd fallen asleep in the same seated position, her head resting against the pipe to which her wrist was chained. As she tried to bring the room into focus by blinking the sleep from her eyes, she listened closely - nothing. They'd definitely docked. She raised her head and winced as her neck gave a painful twinge.

Hope was trying to stretch out the knotted muscle when the door suddenly slid open. Without a word, Zach quickly crossed to her and unlocked the cuff around her wrist. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her roughly to her feet as she rubbed her newly-freed hand. It tingled uncomfortably as blood returned to the extremity.

"Let's go," her captor ordered, but Hope yanked free of his grasp with a defiant glare.

To her chagrin, Zach merely looked amused by her resistance. "What, maybe you're thinking of escaping?" With mock politeness, he gestured at the door and the hall beyond. "Be my guest. The temperature outside is a balmy -200 degrees Celsius, and the atmosphere is sadly lacking in oxygen. If you go outside without a suit, you'll be dead before you can take a step."

"Where are we?" Hope demanded, but Zach shook his head.

"Not important. Now, do you want to stretch your legs, or do you want to remain in your cell? It's entirely up to you."

Dropping her eyes in defeat, Hope started for the door, with Zach right behind her. An involuntary shiver traveled through her body as the colder air outside the room struck the bare skin of her shoulders and upper back, and she hugged her elbows close to her body for warmth. Zach must have caught the gesture, because he removed his jacket and offered it to her.

"Here," Zach said, but Hope shook her head.

"No, thanks."

"You're cold," he insisted, but she ignored him and kept walking.

With a shrug, Zach folded the coat over his arm and followed.

Hope considered her options as they traversed the ship's corridors. He wasn't holding a weapon on her, but that didn't mean he didn't have one. His lack of caution seemed to support his story about the conditions outside. Her mother had taught her some self-defense, but she was stiff and sore from being immobile for so long, and still groggy from the drugs they'd given her. And finally, her opponent was bigger and stronger than she was. If there really was nowhere for her to go, the only thing she would accomplish by fighting back would be to antagonize her enemy. She decided to wait and see what happened next.

They passed through the airlock into the adjacent building. It appeared to be the lobby of a commercial building, but there was no company name displayed anywhere - only the same black and gold logo that was displayed on Zach's jacket.

"What is this place?" Hope asked, inspecting the nearly-empty area curiously, as Zach walked past her to a bank of elevators across the room.

"It's an abandoned Cerberus facility. One of the few that the Alliance didn't find and destroy," Zach added, resentfully. "C'mon."

Hope followed him into the elevator, and Zach pushed the button for the third floor. Gathering her courage, Hope ventured, "Adam told me that my mom killed your dad."

"His dad," Zach corrected.

"What?"

"We have the same mom, but different dads," the young man explained, seemingly unperturbed that Hope had deduced his relationship to the younger boy.

"Oh." It took her addled brain a few extra seconds to grasp the meaning of his words...half-brothers. "Well, who was Adam's dad?"

The elevator doors slid open, and they disembarked into a dark hallway. The lights flickered to life automatically as they proceeded down its length.

"The Illusive Man."

Hope looked at him, brow furrowing in confusion. "Who?" The name sounded made up, and she wondered if he was screwing with her.

Zach stared back at her in disbelief. "Your mom never told you about the Illusive Man?"

Hope shook her head, and Zach laughed in derision.

"Figures. His real name was Jack Harper, and he's the only reason you even exist. He spent billions of credits to bring your mom back from the dead, and she repaid him by murdering him."

Hope squinted at him, skeptically, positive now that he was putting her on. "'Back from the dead?' What, like a zombie?" she scoffed.

They had reached the end of the hall and passed through a door into a large, open space. There were various workstations scattered about - many empty, but several dotted with dust-covered equipment. On the farthest side of the space from where they were, several smaller doors stood closed, hiding whatever lay beyond. Windows surrounded the perimeter, looking out into impenetrable darkness. It certainly looked as forbidding as Zach had described, and Hope shivered again. The exterior made this cold, sterile room feel downright cozy in comparison.

With a resigned sigh, Zach crossed his arms and leaned against the closest table, indicating with a nod of his head that Hope should take a seat on the nearby stool. Ignoring him, she slowly wandered through the lab, examining the desks and equipment for some kind of clue as to what they used to do there.

"The Illusive Man was the head of Cerberus, a pro-human organization. My mom and dad both worked for him," Zach began. "He was one of the only people who believed your mom when she first said that the Reapers were coming to destroy the galaxy - when the Council, and even the Alliance, denied the threat. The Alliance had the crew of the Normandy out hunting geth when the Collectors destroyed their ship," he said, scornfully, making it clear what he thought about that decision.

Temporarily abandoning the device she'd been curiously turning over in her hands, Hope glanced up at him, sharply. "What do you mean, 'destroyed?'"

Zach sneered. "Destroyed. Blown up. Shot to hell. The way I heard it, most of the crew got away safely, but your mom went back to get your dad. I guess 'cause he's a cripple…"

"He is not a cripple!" Hope retorted, and Zach held up his hands in surrender.

"Whatever," Zach shrugged. "He made it into a pod; she didn't. Her suit was punctured as she got spaced just outside the atmo of some random planet." As Zach spoke, one corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smirk. "I figure it took about five minutes before she hit the ground - but she was dead way before that. Human meteor."

Hope's mind was reeling. She'd never heard any of this before; didn't see how it could be true. People didn't come back from the dead - not even Commander Shepard. It was clear Zach believed it - but that didn't mean that whoever had told him the story hadn't been lying.

"Cerberus recovered her body. She was an icon of humanity; the Illusive Man believed she was the only one who could lead us to victory over the machines. He spent years, as well as tons of resources and credits, putting her back together again. Cerberus built her a new ship, gave her a new crew - even hired your dad back." Suddenly, a memory popped into Hope's head. The logo in the lobby. She'd seen it before - in an old photo of her parents. It had been on the uniforms they'd been wearing.

Zach's posture shifted - his arms dropped to his sides, and his gaze shifted past Hope to stare absently through the window. For the first time, his voice assumed some semblance of emotional inflection. "I met your mom, once, when I was a kid - maybe four, or five. My mom and dad took me to a Cerberus fundraiser. I was way too young to attend an event like that, but they wanted me to meet Commander Shepard. They both idolized her; believed she would be humanity's savior.

My folks downed several drinks before they summoned up the courage to introduce themselves to her. I remember she seemed larger than life, and a little scary because she still had a bunch of scars from the reconstruction. She was polite, but she seemed - I dunno, removed from it all. I was so in awe, I couldn't even say hi. Couldn't do anything but stare," he said self-deprecatingly.

Zach's eyes locked onto Hope's, and bitterness crept into his tone as he continued, "Less than six months later, your mom betrayed the organization that had given her everything, including her life. She destroyed the Collector's base, which would have given us an advantage against the Reapers. She went back to the Alliance, who assigned her a secret mission that ended with her wiping out an entire star system. In return, they threw her in jail, but she still remained loyal to them - denouncing Cerberus every chance she got.

Shortly after that, the Alliance raided the facility where my dad worked - based on intel provided by your mother, no doubt. He was shot in the back while trying to help some of his co-workers to safety. They were all unarmed, defenseless scientists - murdered by trained soldiers."

Despite what Zach said, Hope knew that her mother would never condone behavior like that by the Alliance, or anyone else. However, she could see that Zach believed it, and she couldn't refrain from reacting to the obvious pain in his voice. "I'm sorry about your dad..." she began, sympathetically, but her attempt at empathy only served to anger him.

"Save your pity," Zach barked, cutting her off. He paced the distance between the nearest workstations using quick, agitated strides. "My mom was wrecked with grief - not only about losing my dad, but also by the betrayal of someone she had considered to be a hero. She completely lost faith in the Alliance, renewing her dedication to Cerberus and the Illusive Man. They grew closer, and he became like a step-father to me. My mom got pregnant with Adam, and I thought maybe I was going to have a family again…" Suddenly, he froze in place and glared at Hope with such venom that she couldn't help but flinch. "And then your mother murdered him, too."

Suddenly, Zach was on the move again, charging toward her. Hope shrank away, but he clamped a hand around her bicep, steering her roughly toward the doors on the opposite wall. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," he growled. He passed his hand over the sensor, and roughly tossed her inside as the door opened. "I'll be back in a bit, and we can call your mother - the murdering bitch." With that, he was gone, and the lock on the door glowed red.

Hope threw herself against the metal barricade, anyway, pounding against it futilely with her fists until they began to throb. Breathing heavily, she rested her back against the door, surveying her new environment. It was a small living quarters, containing a bunk with a thin mattress and threadbare blanket. On the other side of the room was a stainless sink and toilet with no lid. Her eyes skittered across the suspect stains streaking the floor, refusing to consider their source. With a miserable sob, she staggered to the bed and collapsed upon it, burying her face in the rough fabric and finally - for the first time since this whole ordeal had begun - allowing the tears to flow.