CHAPTER #4

Days passed pretty fast, probably because she was only conscious for about 40% of them. Blood replenishment required a lot of rest, they said with their sweet forced smiles. But she knew better. The nurses were as worried as the soldiers, and she wouldn't be surprised if they kept her asleep out of fear. Wouldn't want the biotic to tear up the place. Her suspicions were pretty much confirmed when a week and a half or so later, she was deemed healthy and capable for space travel, with only a warning to not move or bend around much. Suddenly, she was able to stay awake and standing pretty much all day with only slight laziness. Such an abrupt and total recovery, was it not? Of course, the moment her feet grazed the ground, her bodyguards, as she'd taken a habit of calling them, were always within a two meters radius. Rather than looking like what she really was, she made the best out of the new clothes she was given and walked around with a pose that suggested she was a rich kid with paranoid parents.

She liked to joke about it, infuriate them. They were her protectors as much as they were her captors, so they were forced to put up with her. Did they make a point to insult her often, if somewhat discreetly? Yep. Nice-Guy-With-What-She-Supposed-Was-An-Impeccable-Record, who she'd discovered was called Tom Alenko, kept quiet though. And the old guy, Varric Haymitch, he didn't just kept up with her; he would banter with her with sarcastic undertones. Who would have expected that? The guy who probably should have the most reservations was treating her like any kid, like she wasn't to her eyes some pitiable criminal, not to mention monster. Never underestimate the connection between age and wisdom, she guessed. (She really had to hold back from asking if he was old enough to have been in the contact war, he looked that old and she knew nothing regarding the alliance age regulations.)

Maybe it was just who she was, able to take anything in stride, but she wasn't surprised with her first off planet travel. The artificial gravity was so well calibrated, she barely felt the moment when they left orbit. The view was nice, breathtaking, magnanimous, gigantic, yes, that is why she stood in wonder for about five seconds. Then, it was over. No more admiration. She kept looking because it was certainly prettier than the inside of the ship and the old man had fallen asleep again. The only thing in her mind was planning: Once the training was done, and they sent her do whatever, how exactly would she escape? Use her acquired abilities? If they put a tracker on her, how would she avoid it? Was she so opposed to military life, really? She bit her lip at that. Fighting, what she knew how to do, while helping some people in the way? Sure, she was happy with that, but military did more than helping people, they also did what politics wanted it to do and that turned her stomach. Chain of command? No thank you. Then again, she would be the first to admit in the army she had a chance to do some good and have a stable life, income, official documents that would grant her a certain level of freedom. Gang life would always mean gang life and she knew it. Why was she doing so much fuss anyway, what was the official version? She turned to Tom who was sitting with his back straight and looking forward into his omni-tool to what looked like paragraphs and paragraphs of utter- she spied an Alliance Logo- right, bullshit. "What do I have to do to receive this training? What's the catch?" She asked him directly. No one else was going to answer her, they either hated her or were unconscious.

He took a moment to realize she was talking to him, after a moment he raised his gaze towards her, however, and found her looking at him directly. He shut down his tool, and debated whether or not to answer. Deciding the information petitioned was not classified, he couldn't see why not. "For you to wear an amp, and stop with your illicit activities, I believe. Other than that, you will not require to hold ties with the Alliance." He said.

That was more than she hoped for, then again, what was written in the records was hardly the absolute truth, it never was with anything government related, she was sure.

"What?!" Asked the main jerk, who she hadn't bothered to recall a name for. "You serious? No surveillance, no reporting every once in a while, nothing?"

Tom shook his head towards his fellow guard.

"Bullshit." The first jerk stated, outrage seeping from his pores, second jerk leaned forward then, asked "How would you know this shit anyway?"

Prinle frowned at that. Was it hard information to get? Her suspicion that there was more than met the eye increased tenfold.

"I have a cousin on Jump Zero, he is part of the program." Answered Tom dutifully, stoically.

"Must be a real pain keeping those freaks in line. Tell him we are grateful man." Commented Jerk #2.

Tom kept quiet then, looked down, breaking the coolness Prinle had gotten used to from him, before responding, in a lower but steady voice. "He is training in the program." The expression on his face, Prinle recognized, as shame, instantly marking him off as Jerk #3.

"You got a freak cousin!" Jerk #1's outburst got the old man awake. His snoring suddenly stopped and he was looking around with low eye lids before registering what he heard, his eyes flitting between Prinle and Tom. Main Jerk gave him an accusing and disgusted glare that she as sure she mirrored, before settling back into his chair, and opening up a tool game, intent on ignoring the guy. Jerk #2 didn't look like he had any idea what to do; he opened his mouth and then closed it, he moved like a tree on an indecisive hurricane before he finally leaned back again next to the main jerk like a dog-loyal follower, opening his tool as well. Prinle, only slightly annoyed she was acting like the two jerks, also giving jerk three the silent treatment as she turned her back on him to look out into the stars again.

If there was something she was feeling sorry for, it was for the third jerk's poor cousin. She was valued for her biotics in the gang, even if they did call her a freak. But in itself, she didn't care for the gang. Even though Kein left her, she still respected him and his judgment, would still think of him as a friend. She didn't know how she would have reacted if one day Kein started hating or disapproving of her for a simple fact she couldn't change. Have your family around you yet not getting their support for being anything just seemed wrong.

She would probably trust her family's judgment if she remembered them too, or had lived with them. She would probably not be as autonomous and independent as she was now. She would, maybe, probably, believe them if they told her she was a monster.

She really felt sorry for the guy.

Author's Note: Yes, yes I just named the old guy Varric Haymitch. Oh, wait, what, makes you uncomfortable? Well, TOO BAD! Talking seriously though, if that's really the case, do not worry. You will not have to put up with this name for long.