Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.
For those of you who are curious, the inspiration for my Eira is 'Nastya Zhidkova'. Check out her pictures in a Google search and you'll see where the idea of Eira was born!
Any and all reviews are appreciated! A big thank you goes out to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and/or faves :) – Fallon.
Chapter Six
"No single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born. It would be a bit too easy if we could go about borrowing ready-made souls" – Antoine de Saint-Exupery
"What do you mean she has no implant?" Miranda demanded angrily as she paced the med bay, circling Eira like a vulture.
"I mean there is no implant to be seen," Chakwas sighed, making no attempt to hide her frustration with the woman, "I scanned her three times, Ms. Lawson. I'll scan her again if you'd like, but the results will be the same. Element zero nodes are present throughout her nervous system but I see no signs of any attempts to implant a biotic amp."
Eira swallowed hard.
Everyone seemed mad at her but no one had had the decency yet to fill her in. What was an implant? And why was it so horrible that she not have one? Did not having one make her a freak?
Eira pouted and nervously twisted her fingers in her lap until they ached.
She turned to Shepard, who had yet to say anything since returning with the woman Doctor Chakwas referred to as Lawson.
He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his pale blue eyes following the irate woman striding back and forth before them. He was stone-faced and Eira couldn't tell if he was angry at the situation or, more specifically, at her.
"That's impossible, Doctor," Lawson declared for the hundredth time, "Human biotics without implants have weak biotic abilities that inevitably falter out and become non-existent!"
Chakwas pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, "You were there; Miranda and you've seen the readings."
Miranda turned to Eira, a profound scowl on her face, "Do you have anything to say for yourself, Valkyrie?"
Eira stammered trying to search for something, anything to say to the intimidating woman. She felt herself shying away from her, moving cautiously backwards on the table to put as much distance between her and Miranda as she could.
Shepard saw her recoil out of the corner of his eye, saw her begin nervously chewing on her bottom lip. His gaze shot back to Miranda, who, if she noticed the fear painted on Eira's face, clearly didn't care enough to cut the confrontational bullshit.
He stood and approached Eira as she sat shaking on the table, her knees now pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them in an attempt to make herself as small as possible.
"Eira," Shepard said, interrupting the tense silence, "Her name is Eira, Miranda; and if I knew you were going to try interrogating her like a prisoner of war I'd have gone to someone with better sense."
Miranda's gaze snapped back to him and she fumed, "Shepard, she's been holding out on us. She could be a threat."
Shepard immediately dismissed the possibility, "The Illusive Man sent us to get her from that station, Miranda. Do you really think your beloved Cerberus would set us up like that? With the threat of the Collectors looming over us? Not likely."
Miranda glared at the commander, but backed down and muttered a forced apology. She didn't leave like Eira was hoping for but instead kept to the perimeter of the room, her lethal gaze still fixed on her.
Eira swallowed hard. She wanted to run away, find someplace far, far away and stay there forever. Her fear flared her biotics to life and sent pulses of energy bubbling to her skin. She saw Chakwas and Miranda take another step back and vaguely registered that her biotics were active, their protective force wrapping around her skin.
"Eira!" Shepard's voice was stern but lacked the sting of true anger.
She glanced up to see him standing before her. Her biotics calmed down, retreating back inside of her as the perceived threat that had caused them to flare seemed less imposing.
Eira felt her chin trembled and stammered, "Y-Yes?"
"Do you know why you don't have a biotic implant?" He asked calmly, ignoring the frustrated sighs coming from Miranda as he took his time and went out of his way to ensure nothing about his body language spelled 'threat' to her.
Eira bit her lip and quickly shook her head.
"I don't even know what that is…" She admitted in a whisper.
Miranda grumbled behind him but Shepard ignored her. It was clear to him she was only interested in taking out her frustration at not being trusted with the knowledge of Eira's unique abilities on the girl herself, something that irritated Shepard immensely. It was cold of her, and especially considering she had been with him when they'd met Eira on the station, he'd expected her to be more understanding.
It was clear there was a great deal the Illusive Man hadn't told them and he knew they'd eventually have to wade through his lies, but he expected Miranda to see that bombarding Eira with accusations wasn't going to get them anywhere.
Clearly the Illusive Man had kept her in the dark as well. What bothered Shepard was why. An asset surely lost its usefulness if it didn't know even a sliver of its potential or its limitations. It seemed like a slip-up on the Illusive Man's part, which only made Shepard even more convinced that the move had been anything but.
"Implants are given to young people who show an aptitude for biotics," Chakwas explained, "They are grafted into the brain of the patient and allow for the biotic nodes in the nervous system to focus their energy to form attacks, move objects or create shields. Humans need these implants, until now there have been no cases of biotic powers remaining any longer than a few years without the aid of an amp to harness and direct the power."
"There is usually a port at the base of a biotics' skull," Shepard continued, "right about here." He rose and approached her, moving slowly so as not to startle her, and reached out to place his fingers on the back of her neck just near her hairline. "It allows a biotic to turn off their amp for periods of time to avoid…well, overheating, for lack of a better word."
Eira remained tense until Shepard pulled back, but that small, simple touch hadn't been entirely unpleasant. It had been gentle and brief and when she took a small glance up, searching for his eyes, she saw in him what she had felt in that touch – a degree of understanding and sympathy that Miranda seemed incapable of.
"How…how is it I can do what I can do without one then?" She looked to Chakwas, hoping for an answer.
The doctor gave a small shrug, "I'm sorry, dear, but I have no idea. If I didn't know any better, judging from the readings we took from the station when you were actively using your biotics, I'd have thought you were an asari. They do not require implants to use their biotics effectively, nor do they need special training to develop a conscious neural control of their powers. It's a part of their physiology though," she smiled, "and it's rather obvious you are no asari."
"Did you need to work on it?" Shepard asked, glancing to Chakwas, "On your 'neural control'?"
Eira shook her head. "I…I didn't; not for control at least. Corrine had me undergo training and different simulations to test my endurance and combat-readiness, but nothing about how to use my biotics. They always seemed…at my finger-tips, you could say…"
Shepard nodded, "Do you have any side effects? Anything that could perhaps be contributed to the fact that you have no implant, Eira?"
He was trying to get a better sense of her capabilities and limitations. If he was going to begin entertaining the notion of her going on missions with him as part of his ground team he needed more answers. Even before he died, Shepard had never gone on any assignment, no matter how small, without knowing the strengths and weaknesses of those who had his back. It was something he wasn't going to start now.
And considering the…unique biotic abilities of the girl in front of him, caution and a better understanding were needed to settle the uncertainty she raised in him.
"I have really bad headaches sometimes," Eira admitted, looking to Shepard and Chakwas for any sign of disappointment, "After a really long simulation, one where I'd use my biotics for hours, the light…would make my eyes hurt. Then the headache would set in. I tried to work through them for...for Corrine. And meditation helped some."
Chakwas nodded as she recorded notes on her datapad, "I will begin searching for options to help you with that, dear. And I fully intend to monitor you closely to make sure we haven't missed anything." She turned to the commander, "Shepard, given what we've learned perhaps the Illusive Man would be more…inclined to provide us with Eira's medical records?"
He mulled over her words for a moment and nodded, though his features were grim.
He wasn't naïve enough to think the Illusive Man was going to hand everything he had on Eira over. Still, he nodded. There was no reason, just yet, to voice his doubts.
Miranda sighed, "Since you seem intent on keeping her, where do you intend to stow her, Shepard?"
Her voice pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced up to see Miranda glaring at him.
"For now the port observation deck will work." He clasped Chakwas' shoulder, "You finish up with her here, doc. I'll have some of the crew pull up a cot from the cargo bay; try to make it comfortable for her."
"I…I don't need anything special, Commander," Eira hurriedly said, paling at the notion of the fuss she had caused, "I don't want to cause you or your crew any more trouble than I have already…"
Her full, pale lips fell into a pout.
Shepard looked back at her over his shoulder, his sharp retort fell dead on his lips however when he saw just how upset she was. Whether or not she considered herself as such, Shepard saw her for what she was – another victim of Cerberus' brutal drive for the "greater good" for humanity. That she was so young merely intensified his disgust for the rouge black-ops organization.
Eira didn't deserve any unnecessary coldness from him, her world had been turned on end and she needed time to make sense of everything he and Chakwas had thrown at her. Miranda and Cerberus pissed him off, Eira didn't deserve the bite of the anger they brought out in him.
He held back the frustration that threatened to work its way into his voice and smiled.
"It's no trouble, Eira. I'll have those files I mentioned brought to you and once you've had a chance to go over them I'd like to hear what you think."
Eira nodded and fell silent as Chakwas approached her to conduct another scan.
"And what are you going to do?" Miranda asked as Shepard headed for the door.
He sighed, running a hand over his shaved head, "Try to get some answers from the Illusive Man."
Eira sat cross-legged on the lounge in the port observation deck wearing the Cerberus uniform Miranda had begrudgingly provided her. Chakwas had given her a clean bill of health and allowed her to leave the med bay, going so far as to have one of her assistants give Eira a quick tour of the ship before walking her to the observation deck the Commander had allocated for her use. The cot crew members had brought up sat tucked in the corner, a pile of crisp folded sheets sitting on its corner, waiting for her use. On the desk near the bed sat a pile of datapads containing files on the Reapers, Collectors and everything else she needed to be up to speed.
Her head hurt too much to tackle them tonight though and she had told the crewman who'd brought them to her that she'd look at them first thing in the morning.
Gabriella Daniels had been the first of the crew to introduce themselves and had pulled in a favor she'd had with the requisition officer, giving Eira a refurbished Nexus omni-tool and a lesson on how to use it. Eira hadn't been able to thank Gabby enough. It was the first real gift she had ever been given, a window to the wider world she'd never had on Nafna Station, and she knew as soon as she received it she was in the engineers' debt.
Gabby had immediately dismissed the notion of course, saying it was merely a gift to welcome her to the Normandy, but Eira didn't know what to think of that. It had been a kind gesture, the sort Eira assumed friends did for each other, and she wondered hopefully if Gabby could be that for her – a friend.
Almost everyone had been good to her since her arrival on the Normandy. Doctor Chakwas had been patient and warm, and while she had expected the crew to stare few had done so blatantly or in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. Gabby had been very kind to her, and had even invited her down to the engineering deck for a "VIP tour" once she had gotten settled. And Commander Shepard had been…well, she was still trying to figure him out from what she had seen in the few encounters they had had.
He'd been frustrated but hadn't taken it out on her, if anything he'd been calm and understanding. It was clear that there was a lot he was responsible for, just as it was clear to her that there was good reason behind peoples' faith in him.
On a whim, Eira opened up her omni-tool, deftly swiping to the screen Gabby had shown her earlier and opening up a search engine. She hesitated only briefly, strangely overcome with the feeling that she was violating his privacy, but quickly shook it off and typed in 'Commander Shepard' before initiating the search.
Immediately the screen filled with dozens of results. She clicked on the first one, a feature on the commander done in 2183 by a news station based on Earth, and eagerly read.
The only child of life-long and well-respected Alliance marines, Ryan Shepard has surely surpassed any and all expectations his parents once had for him. Born on Arcturus Station, the young Shepard spent his formative years aboard one starship or another, moving homes as his parents' posting changed. Little, however, is known about the commander's teenage years – time which the commander himself once described in an early interview as "a time when many mistakes were made, when I nearly lost myself".
Whatever caused Shepard such conflict is up for speculation, the man himself remains tight-lipped, but what is clear is that Captain David Anderson played a key role in guiding Ryan Shepard through the conflict in those years – and ultimately to the Alliance recruitment office when he was eighteen.
Proving himself a natural solider early on and most notably a steadfast survivor on Akuze, Shepard shot up the ranks of the Alliance's Special Forces, earning the esteemed rank of 'N7'.
The commander has been assigned to the SSV Normandy; a highly coveted position on a ship that has become a symbol of the potential joint-species cooperation can bring to the field. The product of human and turian design, the ship of its kind is said to be unprecedented.
What missions the Normandy and Commander Shepard may be a part of are, of course, top-secret…
Eira returned to the main page of the search engine and quickly typed in "N7", followed moments later by another single, simple word.
Akuze.
Hundreds of light-years away, on a station still smouldering with the heat of fires just beginning to die out, a soot stained and bloodied hand burst forth from the rubble that blocked out precious oxygen. It scrambled for purchase, finally grasping on to a rough jut-out of concrete. The beaten down and bloodied man heaved himself up through the debris, his tattered armor catching on the rubble and slowing his movements. He grunted out a ragged curse and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move despite the pain until finally, mercifully, he reached the surface.
Marin laughed despite the lingering danger of his situation and the small amount of oxygen he had access to at present.
What remained of his armor had saved his life, but he was far from uninjured. With one broken arm, a handful of broken ribs and God knew what else, Marin was far from safety.
But as he laughed, he realized 'alive' was good enough for him for the time being.
He'd lick his wounds, plan his next move, but in the end he would fulfil the promise he made to Eira's parents.
He'd bring her home.
One way or another, one day or the next.