Chapter 4: The Fleet
Jane snuggled into the blanket and gave a half-feral growl as a soft chime broke the quiet.
"Good morning," a woman's soft, lilting voice said over the speaker systems, "it is approximately 0800 Standard Galactic Time. 81st Day of Caarebonn. Year 283 of Wandering. As always, I am Kela'Huul vas Lemek with your Wake-Up Call. We have a very exciting interview coming up this hour with Captain Avel'Vael vas Jordan, who's safely returned from a diplomatic mission to Thessia. He's brought back some amazing documentation shared by living Asari who visited the Homeworld in their younger days."
"Five more minutes…" Jane mumbled into her arm.
"But first, to ease you into another day," the woman said, "we have a lovely recording of the ever-wonderful Hal'Yam vas Gef playing traditional music on the chall. Remember, listeners, every note was a breath outside an envirosuit. So, for all the Migrant Fleet, let me extend a sincere thank-you to our brother. Keep it up, Hal'Yam."
The evil voice went away to be replaced by truly diabolical piping. Jane muttered a few words she really shouldn't be saying and sat up. Her head made contact with a low metal obstruction.
"Ow!" She flattened back into her bed…no. Not her bed.
Careful of the low clearance, she angled herself to look around an unfamiliar space. It didn't take long. She was inside some kind of storage closet. No. It was a bedroom squeezed into one. If she slid out of the bunk, which had plenty of leg-room but not much else, she'd cross the whole space in about three steps.
The tightness made her anxious at first but slowly, as she found soft fabric and bright colors where she expected hard, sterile angles she began to feel a tiny bit better. It was…cozy. She gave up sitting and instead rolled onto her side for a better view. The color blue reigned supreme in a whole family of shades. Teal fringes on aqua, with near-black navy-blue patterns of oceanic swirls rolling across the cloth. The blanket was very similar.
It was even familiar.
"Uli!" Jane said to herself. The blanket was exactly like the head-wrap-thingy Uli'Rann was wearing. The memory slightly dampened her wonder and curiosity with the reminder of her grief.
"Mom," she said. As if in answer, the piping from the loudspeakers took a mournful dip and Jane slid out of the bunk in search of a way to shut it off. The floor was kept meticulously clear, though, given the small shelves she found, that might've been less the cleanliness of the occupant than the lack of any objects to clutter it up.
Only her backpack, its deep blood-red standing out garishly against the blue room, seemed out of place. She noted a digi-pad perched carefully atop it, the screen blinking with the soft light of an alert. Jane picked it up and found her own name flashing at her from the screen. She tapped the pad twice, crinkling her nose at a long crack through the middle, to find a video-message awaiting her.
"Hello, Jane!" Uli waved at the screen, deep violet eyes twinkling through his visor. "I hope the bed was comfortable. I'm sorry I can't be there to explain in person but Captain Yun'Razi is making me go to the Roffa so they can take a look at my arm." Here he raised his other hand, suited in a bright-yellow sleeve of some kind, to waggle his fingers. "Yun is a worrier like that." He cleared his throat and straightened up. "So. Let me be the first to welcome you to the Gorach. This was a Volus ship if you can believe it. Nearly eighty-five years old!"
Jane blinked and looked around the space with renewed interest.
"I've been serving aboard her for about fourteen years now, can you believe that?" Uli looked off-screen for a moment. "Well, I'm just making sure she knows where she is…" he turned back. "Sorry. Everyone is a little," he flapped a hand in front of his face, "'wooo-wooo' all over the place right now. Quarians aren't so used to surprises." Jane snickered at the man's antics. "But don't let that worry you, Jane. I can't explain everything now, but I want you know this." He pointed one long finger at the screen, at her. "You are completely safe here with us. And we're going to get you home…or…back to your people at least."
Uli'Rann sighed, rolling his bad shoulder. "Captain Yun'Razi wasn't certain the humans…the Alliance would take kindly to us coming into their space with you on board and she didn't want any of those pirates who attacked us catching up to us. So, she took us…hang on."
Uli vanished from the screen and the whole view shook and shifted until it came to settle on a hangar. Jane gasped. Dozens of quarians moved about the space, chattering to each other or fiddling with a few small ships. She noticed the Shepherd and, she smiled to see, Hana'Nur circling it with a datapad, probably preforming a post-flight check.
"Welcome to the Migrant Fleet!" Uli announced, all pride.
"I'm in the…" Jane's voice caught in her throat in wonder.
"Jane," Uli voice went soft, "you are the first human to ever visit the Migrant Fleet. Understand?" He turned the camera back to his face, or at least to his visor. "While you were asleep you made history for both our peoples. Even if we still haven't officially met the Systems Alliance we can never again say 'no human has ever walked among us.' You are part of the Migrant Fleet's story now, Jane Shepard." Jane's tummy bubbled a at that idea. She imagined a class of humans…or quarians…looking at picture of her face on a screen. Her head spun a little. "You're famous! Well. Not famous. No one off-ship knows you're here and I'm not allowed to tell but..uh…"
Jane frowned at that. Why couldn't anyone know she was here?
"But that's not what's important right now." Uli said in the recording. "What is important is that you get as much rest as you need and take your time getting settled in. I can't say what will happen next, it's not my decision to make. But!" He tapped the screen. "I have left this datapad filled with all the human books I had in my digispace. A few quarian ones too but…well, most of those are still in Khelish. Do you read Khelish? You could learn it I bet."
"Thanks, Uli," Jane said to the recording.
"Anyway," Uli'Rann said, "you have my room and everything in it at your disposal, Jane Shepard. Welcome to our home. I hope we live up to your expectations, little one. Esu se'lai. And I'll see you when the doctors finally let me go." The screen went black and Jane found a place on a shelf to rest the datapad safely.
"Ok," she said to the empty room, "firstly, I'm hungry." She opened her backpack to find a compact protein bar from her kit-"Yuck!"-and a standard space-farer liquid capsule. Underneath that was a small white packet with a note written in small print.
'Jane, use only this capsule for water/drinks. Brand-new. No, dextro-bacteria from quarians. Human-safe drink flavoring. Something called 'cherry'. Enjoy!-UR'
She eschewed the powdery packet and took a long drink from the capsule, shivering a little at way the cold, refreshing water snaked down into her chest. She munched half of the protein bar, doing her best to ignore the utter lack of any flavor.
"Migrant Fleet," she said to herself, trying to remember what she'd learned in history class, "too bad Mr. Halsey had such a boring voice." She recalled something about killer robots called 'geth'. Also, that quarians got sick really easily. And, of course, that they all lived in a big fleet of spaceships.
But this was a Volus ship. Hannah…she shook her head…Hana flew a human ship. She'd thought all the quarians would fly quarian ships. She felt a little giddy at the prospect of seeing ships of every kind all flying in the same flotilla. Maybe they had elcor ships. She always wanted to see an elcor ship.
She took out a change of clothes. Jeans, new socks, and one of her long-sleeved shirts. It had a tiger on the front, baring its teeth below the word 'FIERCE'. She'd gotten it on the boardwalk on Earth.
She took another swig of water and considered the sealed door to the room. A few peeling warnings in Iperian-Volus next to the doorway were half-covered by a plastic sheath holding evacuation plans in case of emergency. Jane tapped at the interface beneath it.
The door opened onto a hallway, blurry behind what, to her first glance, appeared to be plastic wrap of some kind. But when she poked it the material felt closer to rubber.
"Ah!" Someone yelped. She peered through the left side of the box and saw a quarian in a mint-green suit. His glowy eyes widened and he took a few steps back from the doorway. He looked at her and began to fidget uncontrollably. Jane put on her best smile and waved.
"Hello," she said, "could you let me out, please?" The quarian's voice squawked at her, slightly muffled by the material. "Hey, wait!" The quarian jogged away down the long corridor and disappeared around a corner. "Dang it."
Jane began a thorough inspection of the strange box she'd been sealed inside, chewing thoughtfully on a strand of her hair as she took in every detail. The piping holding it up was sectioned off in slender pockets. The material was slipped into little cuffs around the doorsill and flushed with the floor a few inches into the hallway.
She picked idly at the plastic slat that ran the length of the box from the top to the floor. Quarian symbols were repeated, inked in red, on either side of the central seal. They were looping, curving shapes that were crested here and there by little dots and stars. She was pondering their meanings when two quarians came back around the corner.
The mint-green one was shuffling behind a larger man in dark-orange. His visor was yellow, and his eyes were almost lost behind the glass, but Jane saw enough of them to guess that they were narrowed at her. Dark-orange said something that made the smaller quarian shrug and look away like he'd brought home an 'F' on a test.
"Hello!" Jane chirped, smiling a little bigger this time. "I'd like to get out now, please." Dark-orange shook his head and jabbed one finger back towards the room. Jane frowned. "Is Hannah out there with you guys? Hana…Nur? She was onboard the Shepherd. She's got a silver visor you can't see through-"
Dark-orange snapped something that she guessed wasn't 'please' and jabbed at the room again. Jane folded her arms and fixed him with a glare. Once he'd have frightened her away, but Jane Shepard was not the same little girl she was five days ago.
Her obstinance caused an unintended reaction. The mint-green quarian slid around his big friend and pressed something on the central seal. A hidden speaker crackled somewhere inside the plastic.
"Y-you have to go back inside-" his friend began. Dark-orange smacked his hand away and shouted at him. Mint-green backed off, almost cowering. He barked something at Jane and pointed back inside Uli's room
"Hey!" She yelled at mint-green. The quarian looked up. "You gonna let him hit you like that?" Mint-green only shook his head and curled a little more into himself. Dark-orange pounded his fist twice against the central seal it took all of her self-control not to flare her biotics in response. "Let me out."
Dark-orange all but punched the comm-button to snap at her in a deeply accented voice.
"No! Now go back inside, you rotten little antiipa!" Jane didn't know the word, but the inflection made it clear she was being insulted. She didn't have much of a comeback ready, so she fell back on a tried-and-true response she picked up from school. She cocked her head, cupped a hand around her ear and squinted.
"What?" Dark-orange paused and, despite the helmet, Jane caught the feeling he was genuinely perplexed. He tapped the button again.
"I said go back inside!" Jane leaned forward, biting down a smile.
"Whaaat? I think the comm system is broken." The microphone inside the comm whined as Dark-orange screamed through his helmet.
"Go back inside the room!" He gave up and began gesturing again, almost hopping with anger and Jane felt herself losing control of her laughter. It was immature, she knew that, but the big jerk was just getting so angry that she couldn't help it.
Mint-green uncurled and came forward, asking a muffled question and getting an equally muffled growl in response. Mint-green scanned the central seal, his glowing green eyes turned a little scared as he informed his angry comrade.
Dark-orange actually began to tremble as he turned back to Jane. Jane, knowing her scheme was over pointed at him and began shake all over with laughter. She was hit with a fresh wave of mirth when Dark-orange's voice began to thunder almost audibly through the thick material. The more she laughed the louder he yelled.
Mint-green was trying to calm him down and Jane couldn't help laughing at that too. His voice was so soft and squeaky compared to the other one that the very dichotomy was strangely entertaining.
Her chest hurt by the time Dark-orange had stopped yelling but every few seconds a giggle burst from her. Dark-orange pressed the button, his voice was hoarse and he panted around each word.
"Go…back…inside…the room…," he glared when Mint-green said something, "…we…are disinfecting your suit…you cannot leave." Jane's mischief wandered away and left a behind a little twist of guilt in her stomach. Of course, she couldn't leave her room. She'd get someone sick if she wasn't careful.
And had she thought of that? Nope. She could almost hear her mom's voice chiding her.
You got a good head on your shoulders, Jane, but you need to start using it.
"I'm sorry-" Dark-orange must've thought she was starting some new trick. He turned on his heel to stomped away down the corridor, leaving Jane and the meek Mint-green to look anywhere but at each other. Jane decided the silence was unbearable and knocked softly on the material.
"Can you hear me?" It would serve her right if Mint-green ignored her but the quarian shot a glance down the hall and then shuffled closer to her.
"Yes," he said through the comm, "um…please, just go back in? I'm not supposed to be talking to you."
"Why?" Jane asked. "Am I under arrest or something?" Mint-green's head-scarf flapped as he shook his head.
"No, nothing like that, my goodness! It's just that nobody is supposed to talk to you before the Captain says so."
"Yun'Razi?" The one-eyed quarian had sounded a little angry but Jane hadn't thought she was mean exactly. Mint-green shrank a little and Jane corrected herself. "Sorry. Captain Yun'Razi?"
"No," Mint-green sounded utterly miserable, "Captain Lum'Jezza vas Kareesh." He checked the hall again. "You see…this isn't our ship, it's not even in our fleet." Jane bit back a dozen burning questions about how the Migrant Fleet worked.
"That's bad?"
"Captains shouldn't tell other Captains what to do with their ships. And it's difficult because our new Admiral…ach, what am I saying? I shouldn't second-guess my Captain either."
"Is that why Dark-orange was mad?"
"Who?" The quarian nodded after a second. "Oh, you mean him. No. Syf'Hajj vas Kareesh is worried." Mint-green wrung his hands. "His son, Ar'Hajj nar Chellem, is on Pilgrimage. He made it all the way to your homeworld." Jane blinked, trying to remember if a quarian had ever even come within the Mindoir system before she realized he'd meant Earth.
"Earth is safe, kind of," Jane shrugged, "lots of aliens…" she covered her mouth, blushing red as her hair, "…uh, I mean lots of people visit it. I saw them myself."
"Ah, but when your people hear we have one of their children on our Fleet? Someone may hurt a lone alien that no-one cares about. It's happened before and for much less." Mint-green shook his head. "We don't have many friends outside our own people."
"But you guys saved me," Jane said, her stomach queasy at the idea of someone, anybody, getting hurt over her.
"I'm only saying-"
A voice yelled from down the hall. Dark-orange, Syf'Hajj, was back and had brought with him a few more quarians. Syf shoved a bundle of orange material into Mint-green's hands and barked at him. The other quarians were a rainbow of bright colors but all had uniform egg-shell white battle armor snapped onto their shoulders, chests, and legs. All of them held guns.
Those aren't for me. Right? Mint-green touched the comm system again.
"Um," he said, "please, go back inside. I'll leave your suit on the door and you can get it back. The Captain wants you to come to the hangar."
"Which Captain?" Jane asked. Dark-orange growled at that question and Jane heard a soft hiss of words directed at her informant.
"P-please, just do as I ask?" Jane stepped backwards into Uli's room, sealing the door in front of her. All at once she had no desire to leave the comfy, blue space. It was safe here. The soldiers outside…their guns…it was making her heart race in a way she wasn't expecting.
She heard a soft knock on the door and when she opened it the quarians watched her take her suit and retreat back inside. She stepped into the suit and sealed the clasps into place with uncontrollably shaking fingers. She didn't know these people. What if they wanted to hurt her? She was remembering something she didn't want to. Images bubbling up into her head.
A batarian stepped out of the school. Jane was hiding across the square. She nearly yelped when she saw him. He had four eyes and the tattoo at the center of his forehead was a circle in burning orange-gold like a fifth. He had an old-fashioned cigarette in his mouth. The paper kind that actually burned and smoked. He looked over one shoulder and said something.
A voice answered. Then the screaming started. Jane crouched against the concrete base of a street-lamp, cursing herself for lingering after the popping sounds-the gunshots- had started out in the west fields. Her blood went cold as an alien came out into the cold morning.
It was Harriet. Stupid Harriet who told everyone Jane's surgery last year was to remove a giant bump on her head that was a third arm. Harriet who ratted to the teacher whenever Jane threw a piece of paper at the back of her bob-cut. There were cruel hands wrapped into her hair now, dragging her along. She kept screaming for her dad.
Jane had found her dad a few minutes ago. What was left of him. More screams. More armed, faceless men emerging from her school. Jane closed her eyes and slapped her hands over her ears.
Her breathing was loud inside the bubble helmet, she wanted to take it off. She almost did when the door slid open. A quarian looked over her shoulder and said something to the others. The seal opened. The quarian gestured with her gun.
"N-no." Jane said. If she left with them she'd get hurt. They'd kill her. Why? Why did they need guns?
"Come along," the soldier said, "the Captain wants to see you." It was the batarian leader. The one with the tattoo. He'd found her and they were giving her to him. Or it was the Three-Headed Dogs. Or somebody worse. The quarians didn't want her here.
"Is Uli here?" She asked, even though she knew he wasn't. "What about Hana? Or-or Kal! Is Kal here?" Dark-orange shoved into the room.
"Are all human children so disobedient?" He growled. "You will listen, child, because we are telling you-"
Jane remembered saying something. Maybe screaming something. Then a flash of blue light and when it faded three guns were pointed at her. Dark-orange was yelling something from the hallway, grasping at his visor. Mint-green moved his hands away and Jane saw a spider-web of long white-cracks in the glass. The eyes behind them were wild with terror.
"Lay down," a voice said, calm in a way that made her certain if she didn't listen she'd die. She sat heavily, gulping against a sudden dryness in her throat.
"I'm sorry," she squeaked.
"Lay down, child, please don't make me repeat myself." Jane moved forward, putting her hands flat on the ground.
"I…I didn't mean to. I really didn't." The bubble helmet clinked softly against the floor. She could see the blue blanket of Uli's bed and wanted to hide herself in it. "I'm sorry." She said it more than once. She was surprised at how dead-sounding her voice was. She felt like she was playing a VR vid.
She wished she was. She wished she was anybody else but herself.
"I won't do it again," she said, "I…" someone knelt on her back, not hard but hard enough to pin her down, "you don't have to." A three-fingered hand took her right wrist.
Harriet punched one of them in the chest and she squealed, cradling a hand with the fingers twisted all wrong. They're wearing armor, Jane thought, Harriet, why'd you do that they're wearing armor! The batarian took her hand and forced it into-
-a restraint was beginning to apply pressure around her wrist.
"No!" She was moving all at the once, kicking, bucking against the weight on her back. "Let me go! Get away from me!" The man pinning her muttered something in Khelish and the clasp on her neck popped. A pair of metal tangs touched her neck and she screeched at how cold they felt. There was a commotion outside, but Jane had shut her eyes and started screaming an almost wordless apology.
"Wait!" One of the soldiers said. The cold metal left her neck, her suit was re-sealed, and she was a shivering, whimpering wreck of adrenaline and sudden anger.
"Get off!" She growled. "Get off or I'll hurt you!"
"Be quiet," the calm voice said.
"No, let me go! I won't let you take me! Where's Uli? Where's Hana? I want Hana!"
"Keelah!" A woman's voice shouted. "What are you doing to her?! Req!" There was an audible gasp from someone present at this word. The man holding her stiffened. "And it is the kindest thing I could say," the woman scorched on, "req shanee'or!"
"Admiral," the man said, his voice trembling with anger, "I do not deserve-"
"You deserve twice as much! Now get your knee off that child, you bosh'tet!" The weight disappeared but Jane didn't have the energy to rise yet, her head was spinning from the excitement.
"Out, all of you outside now!"
"Admiral, the Captain told us-"
"The Gorach is a Patrol Fleet ship," the woman snapped, "and I will deal with your Captain in due time. Now unless you all wish to be court-martialed get out!" The room was so small but the time it took to empty seemed to last hours. Jane laid on the floor. Waiting for the fiery voice to turn on her. Hands touched hers and she curled her fingers away.
"De'agha," the voice said, soft and heartbroken, "please, don't hide from me. I can't bear to see you on the floor like this." Jane risked a glance upwards. She had hoped to find Hana there, ready to protect her and help her.
The quarian woman was crouched low to the ground, her visor close to Jane's helmet. Her eyes were little white pinpricks like the flashlights of a search-party emerging from a fog. Her suit was gingerbread brown, with swirls the color of peanut-butter.
"Now let's sit you up," she said, her voice wasn't so scary now. It sounded made for gentle words. "Would you like this off?" She tapped the helmet.
"You…you'll get sick." The woman's eyes softened to the point Jane wanted to cry. Not because she was sad but because, around her, Jane felt like she could. Like no judgement would ever come, no word ever spoken.
"And after all that you can think of my safety first?" She squeezed Jane's shoulder. "In this room it will be safe. I have my shanee'or to protect me."
"You're…you're what?"
"Ah, my 'envirosuit'. It means 'second-skin' in our language." Jane's translator updated automatically.
"You called that guy an 'envirosuit'?" The woman laughed. Jane smiled at the sound.
"I called him an 'empty-second-skin'," she said, "which is not a very nice thing for one quarian to say to another. But more to the point. How is your suit? Too cramped?"
"I don't mind," Jane said, then clearing her throat, "I-I spent a whole day hiding in a water tank. I could barely move my feet."
"K'aja," the woman said, "not many quarians could say they'd suffer that. And we are experts at squeezing into small spaces." The seals around Jane's helmets popped. "But I'll feel better when I have a look at your face."
"Ok," Jane said, "I'm Jane by the way."
"I am Shala'Rann vas Tonbay it's nice to…" her voice faltered. Jane sniffled and realized with a rush of embarrassment she had tears on her face. She didn't even remember weeping. "Oh, dear. What kind of welcome have we given you?" Shala'Rann's thumb dried her cheeks in a few soft swipes.
"Rann?" Jane perked up, eager to talk about anything else. "Are you part of Uli's family?" Shala'Rann blinked at her and looked around the room.
"Ah," she said, "he's part of my clan, Jane, but…well, I can't say I know him very well."
"He's nice," Jane said, "I like him."
"Thank the Ancestors someone has been kind to you. What you must think of us…"
"Does the Captain need to see me?" Jane straightened up. She felt ridiculous for how she acted. The quarians wouldn't kill her and they certainly wouldn't give her to batarians. "Am I in trouble?"
"Absolutely not," Shala'Rann said, her voice sharpening slightly, "I don't know what happened just now to make those soldiers attack you like that. It's unacceptable."
Jane felt a coldness creep into her stomach. Better to own it, she thought, than let someone else tell her.
"I'm a biotic," Jane said, "I…I got upset and I lost control."
"A…oh. Kashol'phaust." 'Blue-fist' her translator told her a second later, then slotted it into a synonym function. Along with several other words she'd learned over the years. Shala'Rann leaned back from her, not quite breaking away but leaving Jane feeling slightly abandoned. "I see."
"I didn't mean to…"
"Of course, you didn't, Jane," Shala'Rann said, then murmured, "my goodness, is your hair dyed to be that color?" Jane shook her head. "Red hair. Who could've imagined that?"
"Did those soldiers call you Admiral?"
"Admiral of the Patrol Fleet," she said, her eyes crinkled with a smile, "only for about three months though. I'm still getting used to it." She sat on her heels, making the small space seem even cozier with her presence. "Jane, this ship is under my command. That means, whatever else, no-one can do anything to you while I'm here. And I'm only sorry I didn't get here sooner."
"I didn't mean to cause trouble," Jane said.
"You didn't," Shala'Rann said, "but help me understand what happened, dear. Did someone say something? Was it because that soldier grabbed you?"
"Not to start with," Jane shrugged, "when I was getting into my suit, I started getting scared. When I saw all those guns…why did they have guns?"
"Because they are Marines from the Heavy Fleet," Shala'Rann's tone was even by sheer force, "and they often prepare for anything which means they equip themselves with weapons. Even when it's not necessary."
"Kal had a gun but he didn't scare me."
"Who?"
"Kal'Reegar," Jane said. Shala'Rann sighed in a way that sounded oddly like her mom. A tired, expectant sigh.
"Of course," she said, "Jane, quarians give the name of their ships with their own names. It helps us identify each other. Like I did. I am Shala of Clan Rann. But I am part of the crew on the Tonbay. Shala'Rann vas Tonbay."
"…oooooooh…" Jane thought hard about each quarian she met.
"Yes," Shala'Rann said, "now if this Kal'Reegar was on your mission I'm guessing he was 'vas Neema'? Most of the Marines sent along were."
"Kal'Reegar vasneema," Jane said, grinning, "yeah! And Uli was vasgorach…hey!" Shala'Rann was laughing quietly. "What?"
"Vas," Rann said, coaching her.
"Vas," Jane said, rolling her eyes as she caught her mistake.
"Neema."
"Neema."
"Vas Neema," they said together.
"'Vas' means 'from'?" Jane asked.
"More accurately it means 'sworn to'. But it really is just a way of letting people know what ship you're with. To set yourself apart from other quarians." She gestured at her visor. "We can't very well go by our looks, yes?"
"Does that mean I'm Jane vas Gorach?" She sat up straighter, finding the idea not a little bit cool. Shala'Rann's eyes crinkled again. Jane's translator caught a whispered word that, to her embarrassment, came out as 'adorable'.
"Unless Captain Yun'Razi swore you into service, Jane, I'm afraid not. You are…well, what's your clan name?" Jane almost protested that she had no 'clan' but thought for a second.
"Shepard."
"Where were your born?"
"Syneu. On Caleston." Shala'Rann balked.
"That's a Volus colony, isn't it?"
"My mom worked there for Eldfell-Ashland," she elaborated at a gesture from Shala'Rann, "she helped with construction crews on mining sites." Jane decided to share a little more. "My middle name is Cherk. It means 'lucky' in Iperian Volus."
"What a child of the universe you are," Shala'Rann said, "add this to your long list of names, dear. Amongst the quarians you are Jane'Shepard nar Syneu." Jane frowned. "You do not like this?"
"It's weird," Jane said, "I don't remember Syneu. I was hardly there at all. I mean my mom didn't even live in the city. She lived in the company barracks. She hated it there too. All volcanoes and lava and stuff." Jane thought for a moment. "Nar…Mindoir I guess. What's 'nar' mean?"
"'Child of'," Shala'Rann said, "And I welcome you to the Migrant Fleet Jane'Shepard nar Mindoir." She nodded at Jane. "And now, perhaps we can address my question from earlier? What happened?"
"I dunno," Jane said, frustrated, "I kept thinking about stuff I saw. Batarians…dragging the other kids away." Her voice hollowed out. "D-dead people. People I knew." A hand touched hers cautiously and she took it's comforting weight into her own. "I just got scared. It's stupid."
"Jane," Shala'Rann said, "have you heard the words…aie, in Khelish it'd be…'zakkar se'kev'…in your language it'd be called 'post-traumatic stress'."
Her translator told her the Khleish words in plain, gutting English.
"'To remember hurts me'," she translated. Shala'Rann squeezed her hand.
"Sometimes…things like what you went through leave a mark," Shala'Rann said, "and sometimes it can make people scared even when there is no real danger." She locked eyes with Jane. "Not to say there was no danger. That solider shouldn't have put his hands on you."
"I attacked somebody," Jane said. Her heart began to sink. "I've never just lost control like that before not even when I was little."
"Jane, you can't always control how things will affect you," Shala'Rann said.
Jane was hardly listening. 'Post-Traumatic Stress'. She remembered hearing that now when Chief Shen had a support group set up on the colony for stuff like that. PTSD. 'It hurts when I remember'. Why? She was mad. Why me? I didn't get killed. I didn't get dragged off and kidnapped. What's wrong with me? Is it the Amp? My biotics? Am I just…crazy?
"Jane?" The girl looked up at the Admiral. "Jane, I want you to stay here and rest."
"I'm ok. I don't want to sleep anymore."
"You may remain awake, but I insist you take some more time to acclimate." Jane crossed her arms.
"I'm not tired."
"I'm ordering you to get some sleep, then, you red-haired antiipa," Shala'Rann said the word much kindlier, almost fondly. It didn't sound like an insult but a compliment.
"But I'm not part of your fleet," Jane countered.
"Keelah, you're as bad as Tali'Zorah," Shala'Rann tapped Jane lightly on her nose, "as Admiral of the Patrol Fleet I hereby temporarily instate you into the crew of the Gorach." She rose, lifting Jane with her. "So, Jane'Shepard vas Gorach, I'm ordering you to stay here for now."
Jane was reluctant to be told off so easily but…she was tired. More tired than she thought she'd be. The adrenaline wearing off she guessed. Adrenaline from her episode. Zakkar se'kev. At least she could watch Uli's message again. That might help.
"Fine." She grumbled. She shucked the envirosuit and crawled into the cramped bed after kicking her shoes off. Shala'Rann reached behind her head to turn off the radio (Jane silently kicked herself for looking everywhere except the bed for the alarm clock) and adjusted the lighting of the room until it was a dim blue glow behind Uli's trappings.
"Shala'Rann? Admiral?" The quarian turned to her. "Is Hana still onboard?" There was a warm laugh from the Admiral.
"She refuses to leave."
"Cuz of me?"
"Yes," Jane felt herself relax at the answer, "you'll see her again you have my word as an Admiral of the Migrant Fleet." Jane thanked her and rolled over onto the soft matting under her head, feeling just a little better.