Mass Effect: Each Story Has A Million Tales.
Summary: "There is always more than just one side to a story- and more than one lesson to learn. Follow Garrus Vakarian as he stands by a promise that he means to keep, contemplates the true meaning of life, death, and the ultimate sacrifice, and as he confronts someone who should have been behind him all along. Follow Adelais Vakarian as he mends a broken bond, and as he comes to terms with a terrible loss of his own. Follow Kolyat Krios as he navigates through a very dangerous place, only to find another- under the guidance of someone who may or may not be there at all. And follow Commander Joleen Shepard as she goes through her past and present, only to find herself in the middle of a battle for her future." (Garrus' Story: 'The Promise-Keeper.' Adelais' Story: 'The Old Soldier.' Kolyat's Story: 'The Wanderer.' Shepard's Story: 'The Missing.')
Warning: "This is a heavy one- some swearing, angst, implied adult situations, adult situations, a few character deaths, violence, and blood. All the big ones this time. Remember, this is my Shepard, my feelings on the game and what should have happened and will happen, with my own opinions and storyline, so no nasty comments. Got it? Good." (Commander Joleen Shepard: War Hero, Earthborn. Soldier. Paragon. Romanced Kaidan Alenko in the 1st game, Garrus Vakarian in the 2nd and 3rd. Shot and killed Udina during the Citadel Coup.)
Disclaimer: "I do not own Mass Effect. Don't make me say it again."
Author's Note: "Just so you know, the name 'Adelais,' is Latin for 'Noble.' I thought it fit perfectly. The name 'Carissa' means 'the most beloved one.' Again, I just thought the name fit."
N._.S._.S
Chapter Fourteen: The Missing I.
It was a different time.
New York was one of the best, oldest, and biggest cities Humanity still had complete control over. It was famous and rich, even by Galactic standards. It was a major trading post now, with ships from merchants to great military leaders docking every day, unloading and resupplying.
Joleen Shepard grew up on the streets, where the wealth was not always shared.
The streets were dangerous. Back then, slavers had free reign over vagrants, and homeless children and adults alike were abducted even in broad daylight- and no one cared.
Again- it was a different time.
She saw beatings.
Murders.
Kidnappings.
Rape.
Everything a child should never see and more.
She'd been a victim herself.
It wasn't until much later did she realize just how lucky she was that she made it off the streets alive.
Her salvation came in the form of the Shelter. It was ran by kind old nuns who really wanted to make a difference. Shepard would earn them a little money each for food and blankets for the younger children who could not work by working in the shipyards every day.
Even when she was ill and shouldn't have been working, she worked.
On Christmas.
New Year's.
Her birthday.
Every day.
"Working the docks," her job was called.
Her job was to carry big metal crates to and from- and vice-versa- the ships and to the dockyards. The crates were sometimes heavy, and they sank so far into her soft skin that they eventually made scars.
But it was honest work, and that's all that mattered.
She wasn't Joleen Shepard back then. Back then, she didn't have a name. All she knew was her last- but Shepard was hard to pronounce by a scared, newly-orphaned little girl. So she shortened it.
Her name was Shep.
N._.S._.S
She was just ten years old when she met the boy who would ultimately shape her future.
It was a cold, bitter January night, and Shep was exhausted from her work at the Docks. She was cold and hungry, and couldn't wait to get back to the Children's Shelter with today's pay-
Tonight was Thursday.
Soup and Bread night.
Her favorite night of the week.
The little girl was in so much of a hurry, that she missed the leering looks from the older workers, a couple of whom pointed at her and grinned wolfishly behind her back as she tottered away, cold little hands gripping the small credit chit containing a mere ten credits- all hers to keep for just twelve hours of backbreaking dock work.
New York was an ugly, dirty, gargantuan city.
It was the kind of city that favored money over the lives of the people it destroyed.
It's higher levels of New York, places like Manhattan and those pretty skyscrapers, were the territory of the wealthy. Some were human, but others were the 'A-Class'- aliens like Turian, Asari, even Krogan- businessmen and women who could afford the pricy, fancy stuff because they were successful- or maybe just a little lucky.
The A-Class was scary, and she'd never seen one up close to know any differently.
Shep made her way down the silent street, passing the rundown little brick shacks and the occasional drunken, passed out stranger. She gripped her credit chit closer to her continued on her way, a little smile tracing her tiny, cold lips.
She stopped when she heard shouting in the next alley, dark brown eyes widening.
"Thief!"
"Show the little urchin what we do to thieves in these parts!"
The little girl looked down at her bare little feet for a moment. Her dark brown eyes were scared. Of course, people beating each other up was no surprise around here- Shep herself had been the victim herself several times.
Beatings were just a part of life on the streets.
"Let's give him to the Slavers- they'll teach him right, won't they?"
But should she just walk away like she never saw it?
It could be a kid getting beat up!
Shepard gripped the credit chit in her hand tightly, and peeked into the alley.
Two grown men were roughing up a little boy. The boy was a little taller than her, maybe even a few years older than her. One of the men had a credit chit in his hand and Shep knew instantly that the boy was a pick-pocket, and not a very good one, either.
"Hey!"
Her shrill little cry made the men stop what they were doing and drop the boy. He had a busted lip, but otherwise looked fine.
Shep stepped forward, proffering the Credit Chit.
"I'll give you this if you go away," She said, throwing it to them. The two boys snickered at her, spat at the stricken-looking boy on the ground at their feet, and went on their way, giving her nasty looks as they passed her by.
Waiting for them to be gone, Shep ran to the boy's side, offering him her hand.
The boy took it, then grinned a wide, wide grin.
"Why'd you do that? I had 'em on the ropes!"
Shep giggled.
Now that she'd had a good look at him, she knew that he was just like her- except she wasn't a thief. He had short, spiky white blonde hair and dark, dark, deep blue eyes which glistened in a way she liked.
"Sorry about your chit. Let me make it up to you." He offered, taking her small hand in his. His hands were bigger than his and warmer.
"No, it's fine. It wasn't anything much anyway."
"Oh, yeah?"
"It was my pay for working at the docks. Ten credits for twelve hours."
"Ten credits? That's all?"
"It's honest work," Shep responded, good-naturedly. "Better than picking pockets."
The kid laughed again- it was a booming one that made her grin more.
"My pay's better."
"I don't get beaten up for mine."
"Occupational hazard," the boy retorted with another grin.
Shep shook her head. "Come on, it's soup and bread night at the Shelter. I'll share with you."
The boy's blue eyes widened in astonishment. "You treat me after saving my ass? How's that me thanking you?"
Shep shrugged in response. "Least you could do to thank me is accept."
"Fine," the boy said, shaking his head at her like he couldn't believe this was happening, "Hey, what's your name?"
As they set off for the soup kitchen, Shep answered him.
"Shep. What's yours?"
"Ranger."
N._.S._.S