A Call from Mom
A series of electronic chirps sounded from her personal terminal. Unless it was the fleet, calls here were never incoming. She seated herself in front of the terminal, accepting the call. The caller was a woman, dressed in civilian clothing. The room was dark and her face was in shadow where not lit by the glow of her terminal. Shepard was cautious. This wasn't somewhere wrong numbers got through.
"Hello." Shepard said. The woman moved in her chair.
"Hello. I'm calling…I'm looking for Kaidan Alenko. Is this a wrong number?" she said. Shepard's eyes were wide.
"No. One second…Kaidan?" Shepard replied emphatically, calling him. As she stood he came around the corner.
"Who is it, Shepard?"
"Kaidan!?" The woman on the call asked.
"Your mother…" Shepard replied, facing the seat toward him. Kaidan sat quickly.
"Mom…?"
"Oh god. You're safe. Thank goodness," she said, putting her shaking hand to her mouth, covering a bitterweet smile.
"I'm safe and whole, mom. Where are you?" he asked.
"I don't know. The military personnel here won't tell us – in case something is said in outside communications." Kaidan relaxed some. She was as safe as she could be.
"Did something happen at the orchard?" he asked. She nodded.
"Your Auntie Carrie…she's…"
"Mom…I'm here." She smiled bitterly.
"I know, Kaidan. I know. Uncle Nathan made it here, too. He's on the other side of the compound right now or he'd be here with me. And, we're still hoping but there's no word, one way or the other, about dad." Kaidan nodded. There was silence. Shepard moved to go. Kaidan took hold of her hand.
"Here. Sit down," he said, moving over and giving her half the seat. Shepard sat close against him, putting her hand in his.
"Your last message said you were seeing someone. She's beautiful, hon! It's nice to meet you, dear." Shepard smiled and laughed a little. A term of endearment was something she hadn't heard from anyone other than Kaidan.
"I hoped it would happen in better times, but I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Alenko."
"It's Helena, dear. Kaidan never told me your name…" Shepard started.
"I'm sorry…Jenna. Jenna Shepard."
"Shepard…you're…the…"
"Yeah. The same." Shepard answered.
"You look so different from the vids. Much less severe! Especially with your hair down."
"Take it easy, mom. You're making her blush." Kaidan put an arm around Jenna and put a kiss on her cheek.
"Well, whatever we accomplish in life, we're human first," she said. Kaidan smiled. Very true.
"I heard someone say you'd become a Spectre. Is it true?" Helena asked. Kaidan nodded.
"It is. There was one heck of a party to celebrate."
"Congratulations, hon." Kaidan smiled.
"Thanks, mum."
"Is it hard?"
"Not as hard as being out here, while you're back there."
"Dear…don't you dare let that stop you. I don't know what the Alliance has you doing but if it wouldn't help win this, you wouldn't be there. Listen to me…never question what you're doing or where you are on my account. No matter what happens." Shepard smiled. How many times had she thought the same thing and never said it? This woman just blurted it out. It was refreshing to hear him spoken to like he was someone's child. And to know that he and his father had something in common.
"Alright. I won't. I promise," he replied.
"Good. So, tell me about yourself, Jenna."
"I can't really tell you much more than you'll find on any decent extranet site."
"Horsefeathers. Tell me about your family." Kaidan wore an expression of disbelief. Horsefeathers? It had been a long time since he'd heard that euphemism.
"I loved them very much."
"Were they here on Earth?"
"No. My parents and my brother passed when I was a teen. My sister on Elysium."
"Well, from the look of you two, this may not need saying but, whatever remains of this family when this is through, is yours."
"Thank you." Shepard said as Kaidan held to her tighter. He whispered in her ear.
"Welcome home." Shepard smiled putting a hand on his arm, sitting just a little closer.
"What was your mother like?" At first Shepard thought it would to be hard to know what to say, but to her surprise the words were there.
"Well…she was big-hearted. Generous with her kindness. Smiled easily. Loved life, loved us. Tough. Hard-working. She wanted us to be the same. If we could do it and we wanted to help, she let us. Even if we didn't quite get it right at first. Dad was…gentle. But, strong. You'd never think anything could take him down. Loved to build and tinker and fix. And teach. If we were hanging around when he was doing something he'd set himself up to show us how even if the job took him three or four times times as long to finish that way. My brother…was my brother, but surprisingly caring. He razzed us when he could, but it was always good-natured. Modest. He's the one who showed me how to work toward doing my first chin-up on the support beams out in the shed. My sister…she was smart. Not just book-smart, street smart. She saw right through people. Told you what was what, didn't blink doing it. Honest. Determined. As for me, I don't know…I think I may have spent my life trying to live up to what I loved best about them." Shepard found herself shaking slightly. Kaidan was dumbstruck and more in love than he'd been a few minutes ago. If that was possible anything was. She'd never talked like this about her family. Ever.
"You didn't just try, sweetheart. You did. Beautifully. They would be proud of you." Shepard nodded, finding it hard to say anything. Kaidan steered her chin toward him, kissing her. Shepard broke the kiss when she laughed, looking him steady in the eyes. She took a breath and found herself on solid ground again.
"Well…I think I've hijacked your conversation." Shepard said moving to get up and go.
"Oh no you don't," said Kaidan. "You're not getting off the hook that easy." Helena laughed.
"It's good to know I raised a man wise enough to hang on to a woman like you." They all laughed.
"What's it like, out there?"
"Painfully quiet. When you're not landing on some godforsaken planet getting shot at by goodness knows what." Kaidan answered. "But, you're right. Most, if not all, of what we're doing is worth it. Brings something to our side of the board."
"I'm so glad you see it that way, hon. You still sound so hopeful. That's…you amaze me…"
v
The sound of a door opening sounded in the background of the conversation.
"Oh, shit…shoot!" She paused and laughed. Shepard bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. "I can't talk anymore, dears. I love you, Kaidan. I'll try to send you something again soon."
"I love you, too, Mom. Tell Uncle Nathan I love him too. Give him a hug for me, and for Carrie."
"I will. Jenna, I can't wait to see you in person. Look after him. No matter how big they get, they need it." Shepard laughed.
"Always."
"I know I just met you ten minutes ago but I do think I love you too, dear."
"I feel the same. I…I love you. Thank you, for that." Helena smiled.
"Stay safe, mom. I'll try to find you. Just so I know." Kaidan said.
"Alright. Bye, hon."
"Bye, mom." The screen went back to the desktop display. Jenna stood to go. Kaidan held onto her hand firmly. He stood and wrapped arms around her, taking her somewhat by surprise. Jenna slowly put her arms around him, noticing how easily and comfortably they found their place. If he didn't move she wouldn't either. Time passed and at some point the thought crossed her mind.
"You'll have to let go eventually." Kaidan laughed.
"No, I don't. Just because I don't have hands on you, doesn't mean I've let go…I wish I could have met your parents, Shepard…Would your dad have had his shotgun in hand, first time I walked in the door?" he said, letting her out of his grasp as she seated herself. Shepard laughed, keeping a hold of one of his hands.
"No. But he'd make sure you knew where it was soon enough. Our parents have that in common."
"Actually, that's never been their thing."
"Really? 'Cause she had an assault rifle sitting in front of her the whole time."
"No she didn't." Shepard laughed.
"Yeah, she did…You didn't notice the outline on the workstation?"
"Wow. Apparently I was paying more attention to her." Kaidan had a troubled expression on.
"What?"
"Your dad sounds like a hard guy to live up to. I wonder if we'd have gotten along."
"You would have." Kaidan laughed.
"You sound so certain."
"I am."
"Why?" Shepard took a deep breath. Something like this never got less painful, just easier to live with.
"I was with him when he died. He locked us down inside an undergound tunnel that came out on the other side of the property. Told me to take my sister and run. I refused. I would sooner be damned than let him die alone. I was thirteen. I kept trying to convince him we would be all right, that he didn't have to be afraid. He told me he wasn't afraid for my sister - he knew I'd look after her - or afraid of death. He was afraid for me. Afraid I would never learn to trust, and love, someone…with all my heart. I was so strong, he said, I would never need to…I say you'd get along because you're the reason his fear didn't hold true. I think he'd see that and you'd get along just fine."
Kaidan was wide-eyed. He laughed, shaking his head.
"Get over here," he said, smiling, wrapping himself around her. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. Gentle, even at his strongest. She envied that.
Holding on to him, one hand resting on the nape of his neck, Jenna slowly opened her eyes. She drew back a bit, turning her gaze toward him, intent. He looked sideways at her.
"There's something I want to tell you," she said. Eyes getting a little wider, he nodded. Letting her go and standing, he took her by the hand, leading the way to the couch by the fireplace.
v
Origin: Shepard
2166 – Mindoir
She stopped after just a few steps. Her sister ran on until she noticed, turning back, shaking. Pounding sounded on the heavy door that sealed the tunnel. Bullet impacts. One hit sounded like an explosion.
"Come on!" her sister whispered emphatically, gesturing for her to follow. She turned back. A man lay prone to one side of the doors. With his eyes closed he looked asleep, but just a little too deep. She detached the flashlight from the rifle in his hands. She clicked it on…then off. It still worked. She was ready to run, but something stopped her – instinct. She took his hands off the rifle, biting back tears as she did. It could do him no more good. She took two clips from his belt, flinching when water hit the back of her hand. Tears. She shoved one clip into each of the back pockets in her jeans. Rifle in hand, she jogged after her sister. She couldn't sprint to the other end of the tunnel carrying the gun…but, if they found where it came above ground before she and her sister made it out, it wouldn't matter…
v
The door hissed open. The sound of explosive blasts and gunfire was distant. They'd escaped. Afraid to bring herself out from behind the tree, her sister looked back toward home. She was crying.
She moved to her side, crouching behind a rock. Swaths of the wheat fields were on fire, near the bonfire that used to be the barn. Somewhere on the other side of that, was their home; their mother and brother dead inside.
This far away, the reflection of the firelight in her eyes was little more than a dim flicker. Still, a fire in them burned bright. Shelled out of the protection and safety that kept it in check, the fire inside her raged out of control.
v
The shot went off, surprisingly silent. The creature resembled a deer. Luckily, it could be hunted and eaten. The smoke from the barn was long since gone. They hadn't seen any alien ships for days. They had also never seen any sign of another living human being. They found the animal and a shot to the head ended its suffering. Cutting out what they needed - but not more than they could carry - with a shale knife, they quickly left the scene. Predators she didn't want to meet would be along soon. Building a fire to cook the meat would keep them away.
v
"Look! It's a ship!" her sister said, frightened and ready to make for hills much farther away. She put a hand on her arm and looked at the ships again.
"We need to get closer."
"What?!" Her sister's eyes were wide with panic. "Someone's attacking again!" She shook her head.
"No. They're not."
"How do you know?" She frowned.
"That's the second ship we've seen. If they were attacking, there would already be fire - explosions. And…they don't look the same. They look…human. Don't they?" Her sister nodded, reluctant.
"You don't know what kind of people they are."
"I know. But we can't find out if we stay out here. And we can't stay out here forever…We can stay out of sight. I just want to look." Her sister sighed and nodded, refusing to be left behind.
v
She looked intently through her scope. There was a pile of crates forming outside the rear of the ship. Each about the size of a grown person. Coffins. There were people dressed like they were from the colony moving about below, but no one she knew.
"Looks like more of us lived."
"Hey! There are people! They're coming this way!" Her sister repeatedly pointed in their direction, agitated. She moved the rifle to put them in her scope. They had guns. They were wearing armour. Soldiers.
"You think they have something to drink?"
"Probably," she replied absently, focused on the men moving in the scope. The sudden crashing through the bushes startled her. Her sister had taken off, headed for the soldiers with guns.
"Miranda! Stop!" she hissed, almost shouting. She put herself back under cover, following her sister down the hill in her scope. The men heard the noise and broke their single file, spreading out and heading directly for them. Getting close, her sister saw something about them that made her change her mind and turn to run away. One put his gun on its holster and ran after her. He caught her arm and wrestled her to the ground.
She let off a shot, square to the head. It knocked him away. One of his friends continued the chase. She aimed for another shot and pulled the trigger. Nothing. There was still plenty of ammunition in the clip. The gun just wasn't working. She cursed the thing.
Spotting a piece of wood nearby she grabbed it and slinked through the brush, hiding herself behind a tree beside the path her sister was running along. She ran past. As his leg came into view she tossed a branch, thinner but sturdy, between his legs. He pitched over forward. His gun went off as he hit the ground. Her sister shrieked, scared but not hit. She lunged, bringing the branch in hand down on him with all her strength. Playing fastball for the last four years hadn't been for nothing. He rolled to face her, putting his forearms up to keep blows away from his face. A few more hits and she realized he was taking the blows. He had his hands open and was asking her to stop.
The sudden appearance of another soldier frightened her. She ran for her sister, leaving the branch on the ground. Shale knife in hand, she kept herself between them. In moments there were soldiers on all sides. One of them stepped forward reaching for her hand…trying to take the knife. She swiped at him viciously. He backed away. There were tears coming to her eyes and her face was deeply flushed. She instinctively recognized the futility of going at an armoured soldier with a blunt piece of stone.
The man she'd hit with the branch put an arm in front of the man who'd tried to take the knife. She was sure they were talking but she couldn't hear it. After a few moments he put his hands on his helmet, snapping a few clasps out of place. A hiss sounded from the suit. He slowly put the helmet on the ground and held his hands apart, palms open toward her. She put her focus on him.
"We want to help you. You need food…and a warm place to sleep…don't you?" he asked. Her sister wrapped her arms around her waist and buried her face into the back of her scavenged jacket as she broke down crying. The other soldier reached out a hand for the knife again. She held it up against him. The man who'd spoken put a hand on his arm pushing it away.
"Leave it, Sargeant," he said.
"She can't keep it when they join the other survivors."
"And she can keep it until then. Let's get these two back to camp then keep looking."
"Yes, sir."
"Is there anyone else with you…nearby?" A tear fell down her cheek. She shook her head. Speaking then might have been the hardest thing she'd ever done.
"No." He nodded, biting his lip.
"No family…?" he asked. She shook her head.
"Are they dead?" She nodded. The look in her eyes left no reason to doubt it.
God, these poor kids. It's a miracle they survived this long by themselves, he thought. One of the soldiers walked up holding her gun. She fixed her eyes on it. If they didn't want her to have a makeshift knife there was no way they'd give her back the gun.
v
She was seated on a crate, eyes on a few kids nearby.
"Hi there. Remember me?" he asked. She looked up to him in surprise and nodded, saying nothing. He sat beside her. Miranda was playing catch with a few other kids.
"You don't want to join them?"
"I can't." He laughed, rubbing his head, still a little sore.
"Trust me, you can." She shook her head.
"I threw the ball and he couldn't catch it. It hit him in the head - hard. They won't let me." He couldn't remember the last time he'd met a girl so unreserved.
"Well, why'd you throw it so hard?"
"Because I could." He shook his head. She'd thrown it because she was angry. Maybe she didn't know she wanted to hurt someone, but she did.
"Just because you can do something, doesn't always mean you should." She looked at him resentfully and didn't answer.
"I could have hurt you both, when you attacked. Shot you, even. I could do it. But I shouldn't." She shivered.
"Why not?"
"Well, it's my job."
"It's your job to let a little girl beat you with a stick?" she asked, putting a little levity into the question. He laughed.
"If it comes to that…yeah, it is." She smiled.
"Hey. You're smiling." She immediately stopped. He put one eyebrow up, not sure how to get that smile back. He frowned.
"Is it a good job?" she asked. He was surprised by the question.
"It is."
"Why?" He shook his head, eyes going wide. He took in and let out a breath.
"It's a really good job. But it's really hard. It makes me stronger every day. Takes me all around the galaxy, to places few other people are able to go. Sometimes to places a human has never been before…Has me meeting some pretty amazing people along the way." He gave her shoulder a light poke. She smiled again. He grinned. "But…that has a price. I don't get home much. Don't really have one anyway…My life's in danger almost every step of the way. But if that means standing between a bullet and someone who needs my help – like you – that's fine by me. That smile of yours is worth it, kiddo." Her chest felt tight and her heart was pounding. She looked up at him and didn't know the word for what she felt – awe.
"Listen. A refugee camp is no place for two kids like you. You belong with a family…There's a transport leaving tomorrow, taking some of the children here – without parents – to a place where they'll live with other kids until the social workers there find them a home…They'll never…replace…the family you lost. But they'll look after you. Help you grow up. Only if you want…I'll make sure you can go with them," he suggested. She looked down and away from him, brow tight knit with a frown and a deep shadow on her face.
"Will we end up with the same family?"
"Tell them you're sisters. They won't place you until they find someone willing to take you both." She wasn't sure what to say.
"This is a good thing. Trust me. Please." He put a steady hand on her shoulder. He didn't take it away, despite the instinctive jerk of her shoulder. She didn't mind the touch. It was warm. She looked at him again, her gaze piercing. He'd seen the look before – with a branch coming at his face.
"Okay," she said. He let out his breath and nodded, letting a slight smile show.
"Okay. Let's get your sister and I'll take you to the landing zone. They'll look after you there. Make sure you end up where you need to." She nodded and stood, picking up the clothing her sister had left with her.
v
He knelt in front of her with a strange expression on his face. His friend stood behind him, impatient.
"We have to go out again. Keep looking for people…until they tell us we don't have to."
"Can you find us again when you get back?" she asked. He shook his head. He looked like he might cry.
"No. You'll be gone by then. Take really good care of yourselves, kiddo." She frowned, nodding but meeting his eyes the entire time. Her fists were closed tight. Her eyes wandered to his chestplate, to the symbol emblazoned there.
It would shape the rest of her life.
A letter and number were written beside it. N…7. He looked over her shoulder at her sister.
"Go on," he said. She took a deep breath, looking back at her sister. She walked steadily away, sitting down beside her.
He stood and faced his companion.
"Get that look off your face, Sargent," he ordered. The man smiled and nodded, whistling out of relief and watching the young girl rejoin her sister.
"She is somethin'. Where on Earth do they raise kids like that?" he wondered. The lieutenant shook his head.
"They don't raise kids like that anywhere. That girl is something else," he said, un-holstering his assault rifle. He put a finger to his head, chest and shoulders, closing his eyes momentarily.
Lord, watch over and guide her like she was your own. Please.
"You're not worried about them?" Glancing back at the two girls he saw the oldest smile.
"No. They'll be fine."
v
Omega
She and her sister sat on their bed, enjoying a game of cards. It was the one entertainment no one else seemed interested in but they could keep at it for hours and keep their heads down. One of the staff walked into the room. Children quietly filed in around her.
"Next group, please."
They could only watch so many at a time, so they had divided the kids up into groups to get out and play. Her sister and her hadn't been put in the same group. They said it was to encourage them to form bonds with other kids. It felt unkind. The inner courtyard, where they went to play, could be seen from the windows in their quarters. As soon as no supervisor was looking that's where she'd be sitting.
Miranda quickly started talking and playing with a few of the kids. Pretty soon they were laughing and running around. She got along so easily.
Every time she tried to talk to other kids it was hard or they just didn't seem to care. There wasn't nearly enough to eat. She would start talking about it and they would tune out. They wanted to leave it to the adults. When she talked to one of the supervisors she didn't like the way they looked at her - like a problem best ignored. There were school classes here but they were very…basic. Growing up with free access to the extranet, computer equipment, tools and with what felt like a library of books at home…this place existed in a mental vacuum. It was no surprise most kids had nowhere to go but the streets when they became too old to stay. That was two years away, but she had no idea how to make things turn out differently for them.
Her thoughts returned to where and when she was. There was something happening on the playground. Two kids were in a fight. One was Miranda. She shouted at the supervisor and pounded on the glass with her fist a few times before remembering the window was four inches thick. Nobody would hear anything. She ran to the door and started pounding on it. Nobody could hear it. After fights had broken out they had started keeping their quarters locked up when staff weren't around – which was most of the time. Their living quarters felt more like a boiling pot than a place to live. She ran back to the window in a panic. The fight was over. She had her eyes focused intently on the one responsible. This would never happen again. The one left lying bloodied on the ground was her sister. She looked at her watch. Ten minutes later one of the staff ran over.
v
Miranda arrived long after the rest of her group returned. She stood and stepped into the walkway between bunks and looked her over. She had a bandage on one eye, contusions on her arms, legs and neck. One arm was in a sling. She didn't know it but her arms were shaking. Her sister looked at her and looked away, ashamed and unsettled. Suddenly, she was pushed aside from behind.
It was the boy who'd beat her sister up. Miranda stepped back, turned her slung arm away from him and cringed.
"You gonna talk back to me again?" he demanded, reaching for her chin.
"Get away," she said, before he could touch her. He was older. Bigger. But he didn't look stronger. He laughed and turned to her, putting his face up to hers.
"What?" he asked, put slightly off balance when she didn't move her face back from his like everyone else did.
"Stay away from her."
"That means I get close to someone else. Someone like you." If this one was anything like her sister she'd be no sweat to beat either. He reached out a hand to touch her and she swatted it away. As he grabbed her by the shirt, she grabbed him and pushed him back away from her. He fell, taking a strip of her shirt with him. The ripped cloth hung down leaving her neck, shoulder and right side visible. Luckily she still had her bra underneath. She was fourteen but the body she had was used to a hard day's work. Lean and strong. Larger than a girl usually was. He didn't seem to want to fight anymore.
He stood and walked up to her, keeping out of arm's reach.
"You can't keep her with you all the time. Next time, she won't be so lucky," he warned, stepping past her and putting his shoulder into hers as he did. Her mind was racing looking for something - anything…she grabbed a lamp off a nearby bedside table, hitting him over the head with it. He dropped to the ground, out cold. It was true. When he woke up he'd be angrier than ever. And the next time Miranda went out of the room without her, she might not come back - if this kid was as rotten as he seemed. There was only one way to know, now, he'd never hurt her sister or anyone else here again…ever.
She knelt over his back, pinning one shoulder down. Picking up his head by the hair, taking hold of his chin from the opposite side, she pulled and twisted his chin up and pushed the back of his head down with near neck-severing force. He convulsed underneath her, twitching and writhing, eyes suddenly open, making a terrible sound. She took hold of his head again and twisted as hard and far as she could, holding it in place at a disturbingly unnatural angle until he went quiet. Some of the other kids were screaming. She wanted to throw up.
She stood and looked at the other kids. They backed away. She could hear footfalls out in the hall. It was time to pretend to be afraid of what had happened or they'd separate her from her sister. She was afraid of that.
To her surprise and disgust, she could do it.
v
She stood to one side of the courtyard alone, where she'd become accustomed to watching Miranda play with the others. You couldn't play with kids who were afraid of you. It even took them a bit to warm up to Miranda again. But now she didn't have to watch her all the time, even if she usually did. One of the kids who'd been here a while - Xander - came over to her.
"I heard you ask the other day if you could work." She looked at him and nodded. For the work they did around the building they were given a pittance in allowances. It wasn't enough to buy a ticket out of here before sixteen came around – never mind two.
"Yeah. They said no."
"Well, if you're still interested, I know someone who said yes." Her eyebrows went up in surprise.
"Want to meet them?" If they had said yes, they weren't one of the social service staff.
"Sure."
v
They moved over to a fence underneath the balcony overlooking the courtyard. There was someone in the shadows on the other side.
"This her?" he asked. Xander nodded.
"Yeah."
"Step in close, kid. Let me get a good look at you…" He laughed and smirked. She stood less than a foot from the fence. "Nice. He tell you what the job is?" She shook her head deliberately. He smiled. He looked dangerous. Like a snake.
"You have to sell something. Think of it as a community service. It'll make the other kids…feel better. Xander here knows how much you need sell it for, and what you get to keep. All you have to say…is yes."
"I'll do it." He nodded, a strange expression on his face. One side of his nose twitched in and relaxed. It looked something like disgust. He held out a hand with five small glass capsules, each with five light blue pills inside. Drugs. Illegal ones. They're only illegal if you get caught. She put one hand forward. He dropped the merchandise in and closed her fingers around them.
"Next time you see me, those capsules had better magically look like money. Oh, and this is important…one pill at a time." She nodded.
v
Later that day, during their evening meal - calling it that was generous - someone she didn't know sat down beside her. She looked at him expressionless, assessing, and turned back to her tray. He was one of the older ones. She put half her meat on Miranda's tray.
"I heard you have something."
"Patience is something I don't have." He looked scared. Hand shaking he put a credit card under her tray with the amount it held showing out from under the edge. It was enough. She unsnapped a button on her shirt, took one capsule out of her bra and handed it to him.
"One pill at a time." He took it and seemed to want to say something. The look on her face changed his mind. She buttoned her shirt back up. He got up and took his tray away. The spot beside her remained empty.
v
Miranda greedily cleared her plate. She saw her casting furtive glances at what was left on hers. She sighed and smiled, changing their trays around, putting an arm around her shoulder and a kiss on her head. She ignored the sound her stomach made.
v
They stood to leave and return their trays. A sudden commotion broke out on the other side of the room. Someone screamed for help. She dropped her tray and ran over. After looking after some of the younger kids back home she'd taken first aid classes, just in case. Maybe she could…
She moved the kids standing over the boy aside. It was him. The one she'd just sold to. He was foaming at the mouth. It was mixed with blood. He was wide-eyed and still. Dead. There was staff coming over.
"You can't help him. Let them through," she said moving a couple of the kids back. A glassy crunch. One had stepped on something. He lifted his foot and she saw what it was. A glass capsule and a small black cap. Empty. Five pills. She looked back at him and closed her eyes. He'd been addicted.
Shit.
She stayed until the staff took him away, dispersing with the others. There was no way to sell the others without drawing attention, even if she wanted to. She didn't. Two months, two bodies. She remembered the man who'd helped her. No more.
v
Two weeks later Xander found her in the courtyard and told her the man wanted to see her. She went over.
"How's my little salesman?"
"Out," she said. She held up her hand with four capsules and the dead boy's credit card.
"That's not how this works, missy. I give you pills, you give me money. Or you end up like your friend. Oh yeeeees…I heard about that."
"I won't work for you. You can take these pills or I can flush them. Your choice," she said. He held out a hand. She returned the drugs and money.
"Your choice, little lady, has consequences. Hope you got on well. You'll be joining your dead friend soon."
"No, I won't."
"Listen, you little shit. Nobody turns me down. I work for Aria. And what Aria says…goes. Anyone who doesn't agree dies." She didn't seem phased.
"You know who Aria is?"
"I've heard."
"Then you know you're dead."
"No, I'm not. Because you can't get anyone in here. If you could, someone in here would already be working for you. Send a kid after me and I'll add their bodybag to my collection."
"Quite the spitfire, you are. How many bags in that collection?"
"Two months, two bodies. My friend included." He scoffed.
"How old are you, kid?" She hesitated.
"15, almost 16." He smiled.
"A few short months, and you'll be on my streets. See you then."
Her eyes followed him as he left. She turned and walked away from the fence. While they were talking Xander had disappeared.
v
She left the counselor's office, heading toward the reception area. Since fighting that boy she'd had to come here twice a week. If it weren't for the data pads that could access the extranet while she was waiting for her appointment to start, she might not have come at all. There was an information board opposite the desk and the symbol on it caught her eye. The advertisement changed as she stepped over. It was a touch display. She slid the window back to the ad.
Systems Alliance
Youth Outreach Program
Must be 15 and over.
Click this link to see entrance requirements.
Recruiting Officers coming to this site:
August 2166
She tapped on the link. Three months away…
v
Every day she spent the time in the courtyard running. She had been running back home, but not like this. Her lungs burned and she refused to stop moving. She had learned to gauge how far she ran based on how many steps she took. 17 times around the courtyard. She ran 25. Before three months was up, she could run that in just over the time required for 17.
When they were in their bunks, Miranda would sit on her feet reading a book while she hung off the end of the bed doing continuous sit-ups. When she wasn't around she'd latch herself on to the underside of the bed, bracing her feet against the lip at the end and, keeping herself straight as a board, lifted her body up as close to the springs as she could, held the position and slowly let herself down. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself up again.
v
Everyone else was asleep. She took hold of the bar that ran across the end of the bed with both hands. Resting her elbow against the four-inch mattress frame she tensed the muscles in her arms and lifted her feet off the ground. She let herself down. Her knees were well above the floor. She could do it. She hauled herself up. Let herself down. The closer together you put your hands, the harder it got. Up…again…again…and again…
Feet spread apart with the thumb and forefinger of each hand making a diamond shape on the ground she raised herself up quickly, and slowly lowered herself down until sweat was dripping off her.
She had never been someone who liked to fight and she'd never genuinely liked self-defense classes. Now, every scrap of self-defense she could recall, she practiced.
v
She and Miranda sat in the common area. She was less interested in cards today than usual. Her eyes looked dull. She could see her getting worse the longer she had to keep her own food for herself.
"What's on your mind?" she asked. Miranda snapped herself out of the trance.
"Nothing."
"Doubt that."
"No, really. I just…I hated Mrs. McLeod. Being in class used to drive me nuts…if I could get back there now…I'd be in heaven." She nodded and looked back to her hand of cards.
"They're giving us ID tomorrow," she said. "We need names."
"We have names."
"Everybody knows yours, but I haven't told anyone mine. And we have to change our last name. If I want to get in when the Alliance shows up next week, nothing about us can connect us to who we were. There has to be nothing that can prove I'm lying. We can't even tell them we're from Mindoir." Miranda shook her head and put her hand down. She eyed her sister intently.
"Then I'll take a new one too. Maybe one it would make sense not to like. Miranda can be my middle name." She smiled and answered with the name she'd chosen.
"Jenna."
"First name?" She nodded. Miranda smiled.
"It's nice."
"Apparently it means just about everything that I'm not. Fair, soft…at least the 'white' part isn't wrong. If you ask someone Arabic apparently it means 'heaven'."
Miranda laughed.
"Well you have kind of been a guardian angel." Jenna shook her head and smiled.
"One with a body count."
"'Kay. Guardian spirit. Whatever. Leia. First name."
"Really?" Jenna sighed and laughed.
"Really, really." They laughed. Jenna shook her head. Whatever she liked.
"Middle name…jeez…" She ran a hand back through her hair. It hit her. "Adian. It's a jumble. Put the first 'a' on the end and that's mom's name." Miranda stared at her wide-eyed. It looked like she was going to cry. She smiled. It was a bitter one.
"Good choice. Really good choice," she whispered. Jenna smiled.
"I have no idea what our last name should be though…" Miranda said.
"I wanted it to be the first human in space but, I can't even pronounce the damn name – and we don't look Russian. The first American in space was Alan Shepard. Dad told me he was someone he looked up to when he was a kid. When that disease that affected his back meant he couldn't be an astronaut he decided he wanted to be a colonist…Miranda? What do you think?" Jenna asked. Miranda had been somewhere else and frowned when Jenna said her name.
"My name's not Miranda, Jenna. It's Leia." Jenna laughed.
"I am never calling you that."
"Why not?" Miranda seemed a little hurt.
"Because I can't say it with a straight face." Her sister let out a long sigh.
"Fine." Exasperated, she picked up her hand and played her next card.
v
"There you are," said the clerk, holding out a card with her photo on it. Jenna walked away from the table, her ID card in hand. Jenna Adian Shepard. Born September 12, 2150. 15, almost 16 years old. 27 days away from being turned out onto the streets of Omega.
v
Four days later, one of the staff called them into the adoptions office. The adoptions officer was an asari. Saia T'lena.
"Jenna. Leia. I'm glad you came. Have a seat." The girls nodded and seated themselves.
"I called you in to offer you an opportunity." she said. Jenna's eyes went wide. Despite the harrowing preparation during the last few months…if they could be placed together, giving up on the Alliance was worth it.
"It's not ideal, but it's something." Jenna frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"As you've been told, it's exceptionally hard to find families who will accept one child, let alone two. I've found a family who viewed your video, Leia, and was willing to adopt you. After the trouble you've encountered since you came here, I thought it might be best to place you with a family, especially with your sister's discharge date this close. Don't get me wrong, I'll still look for families that will take you both – even after you have to leave, Jenna. If we find someone, we'll find you. But this opportunity is available now and I thought you should know. You can take some time to decide…" Jenna's expression went cold. She stood and turned to leave.
"Come on, Miranda," she said. Ms. T'lena was shocked speechless that she would simply walk out.
"We're just going to talk it over. We'll be back." Saia smiled, relieved.
v
"Jenna, no. I'm not leaving to go anywhere without you. I won't." Miranda said forcefully. She was fighting back the tears in her eyes. Jenna was stiff. Every muscle in her body was strung tight. If the application to the Alliance didn't go well, if it was the last thing she did, she at least wanted to know Miranda was safe, with a good family.
"Accept it. You have to. I'll keep in touch and as soon as I get out of here, I'll find you."
"I don't have to do anything!" Miranda shouted. Jenna turned on her, a fire in her eyes.
"If you won't listen to me, or believe me, at least, trust me. You have to. You really do."
"Why?"
Jenna stayed silent.
"You'd never abandon me, but you want me to abandon you?"
"I can look after myself."
"Everyone here is scared of you. But they're kids. So are we. The people out there are more dangerous than you." She looked away as tears ran down her cheeks. Her expression was angry.
"Ending up on the streets isn't a guarantee. There's the Alliance. I'm ready. More than ready. I'll be accepted. I know it." Miranda scoffed and looked her in the eye.
"No. You don't." She walked back into the office, closing the door and leaving Jenna outside.
v
For the next few days Miranda would hardly look at her, never mind talk to her. She'd accepted the placement. Jenna found other places to exercise. She wanted Miranda to be able to go about her life without having to give her resentful looks all the time. If she managed to get in, Miranda would leave for her new home two days later. 48 hours is a long time when you know it takes a few seconds to end a life.
v
Miranda woke up and looked over the edge of the bed. Jenna was asleep on the floor. It was today. The Alliance was holding interviews in the mess hall. Jenna's skin was pale and cold, but she'd learned to sleep in spite of it.
Miranda looked her over, realizing she hadn't looked at her sister and really seen her for a long time. She was bigger, a lot bigger. But gaunt. She could see the muscle in her shoulders and neck like she could see no one else's. Tears dropped onto the bed. She grimaced and put a hand on Jenna's shoulder, shaking her awake. Jenna woke and cleared the sleep out of her eyes. When she saw Miranda crying she got up on her knees and put her arms around her, holding on tight. She wiped away tears of her own.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too."
v
Shepard had herself showered and in line before most of the other kids, having skipped breakfast. A few were ahead of her. At 08:00 an Alliance officer opened the doors to the mess hall. It was clear of tables except for a few booths and one long table covered by a black sheet with the Alliance emblem on it. A Systems Alliance recruitment banner hung from the ceiling. The officer walked back into the room and the kids in front of her followed. She led them up to a red line on the floor.
"Wait here until you're called over," the officer stated, walking away. They very shortly began asking them over to the table.
Jenna approached the table with her ID card in hand. The soldier seated in front of her held out a hand for it and took it without a word. Jenna's heart was racing. The soldier filled out a sheet of paper. She matched it with a folder - the one from the counselor's office. She put a stamp on the page and handed her the folder, page and ID.
"Second booth on the left."
"My left or yours?" The soldier looked at her severely, irritated.
"Yours." Jenna felt herself go red. She walked away from the table a little faster than necessary. She took in a breath and paused before letting herself step into sight of whomever was sitting in the booth. She took the seat in front of the man.
"Application," he said gruffly. He looked past her to the line of kids filing in. They were a dingy, malnourished lot. This was going to be a long, fruitless, day. She handed him the form, folder and ID. He gave her back the ID. She looked down and pocketed it.
"We're going to have you take aptitude and fitness tests. You'll receive the test pad and you will have 30 minutes to answer the questions. After which you'll be taken to the next room for a physical assessment." Jenna's eye went wide.
"How can I pass a test if I have no idea what's on it?" The officer smiled with a bit of menace. He handed her a datapad.
"That's the point. Head over to those tables. The pad will start timing you when you open the test. Bring it back when you're finished." Jenna took the pad and nodded. On the way to the table her hands started to shake. She sat down and hunched over, wrapping one shaking hand around the other in her lap. She shivered. A soldier walked up behind her.
"Something wrong?" she asked sternly. The kid probably had no idea how to use the damn thing. Jenna started and looked up.
"No." She looked back to the pad as the soldier moved away. She made her back straighten and tried to warm her hands a bit. They might shake but they could still be used.
She tapped on the tab in the upper left corner that read 'OPEN'.
v
The questions were hard. Some of them she had no idea what to do with. She answered the ones she did know and moved on. She looked at the time. 6 minutes left. She went back and started answering some of the questions she had a vague idea about. When the timer hit 00:00 the pad went back to the start screen and stopped taking input. She took in a deep breath and let it out. An overseer approached her as she stood up from the table asking for her pad. She gave it over.
"Follow me."
The soldier escorted her into an adjacent room where they asked her complete the required number of chin-ups, sit ups and push ups in a specifically defined form. She was taken at her word for how far she could run and how quickly she could do it. The soldier somehow noted her results on the test pad and escorted her back to the booth where the man she'd first spoken to was still seated.
The seat was empty so she sat down. He looked up from the file open on his desk. Hers. The overseer handed him the pad. He took it with a skeptical look on his face. He did something with the pad. It must have immediately given him the test results.
His eyes got a little wider. The results weren't perfect, but they certainly weren't bad either. She must have been from a place with a good educational system before showing up here. It was too bad she looked no more than a day over 13.
"It says here you don't know where you're from. Amnesia…" he said. She nodded.
"You don't remember anything? Your friends, family…parents?" he prodded. She was suddenly looking at him intensely.
"I remember my family."
"Tell me about them." She stayed silent and looked away. He shook his head.
"Alright, kid. Let me lay it all on the table for you. Most of you are here today because you've heard there's money in it. Is that why you're here?" Jenna looked at him again.
"That's part of it." He nodded and an expression she didn't understand showed on his face as he shook his head - irritation.
"What's the other part?" If she gave him the answer she'd appear even more desperate than he already seemed to think she was. Desperate wasn't a word she'd use to describe any of the soldiers she'd seen. How could she hope to convince him that she was like them? When she stayed silent too long, he shook his head.
"Going from not knowing where you're from to thinking you have what it takes to join the Alliance? I don't think so, kid. Better luck next time." He closed her file and put it aside. She looked him in the eyes, her gaze intense and focused. Cold. Jenna spoke.
"There won't be a 'next time'. I won't survive that long." She stood and turned to go.
"Hang on. Sit down." She obeyed.
"How old are you?"
"15." She glanced away.
"Lying on an application for service is a criminal offense. How old are you?" His voice was getting louder.
"In a few days, 16." She felt her cheeks flush.
"I'm not going to ask you again. How old are you?" he demanded, almost at a shout. Jenna closed her eyes and took a breath. She tried to put herself into the calm she kept when firing a rifle. Meeting his eyes again, she answered.
"September 12th, 2150. I'm 15." The soldier let out breath and his shoulders went down as he leaned back. He nodded slightly.
"Better. So, what happened with your ID? Where you're from…"
"I know where I'm from. And I know where I'm going."
"Really? Where's that?"
"N7." He scoffed.
"What?!...The N7 program," he said, incredulous. The interviewer looked away and shook his head.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I can." Clueless kid. Utterly clueless.
"N-training is for the elite. Not just the best soldiers, but the best leaders in the Alliance. What makes a snot-nosed kid like you, think you can?" he demanded. She met the criticism in his eyes with fire in her own.
"My family was killed. Because they died, my sister and I lived. I need to be strong enough to stand between a bullet and someone who needs my help and live. That's what an N7 does. That's where I need to be." The recruiter looked her over, eyes wide. So that was the rest of the reason she was here.
"You don't think I have...'what it takes'." Jenna stated. The Operations Chief shook his head.
"I've been talking to you for a few minutes. I don't know. But I think that anyone who says it with that kind of conviction deserves the opportunity to try. Welcome to the Academy. We'll get your file started, get your kit and put you into quarters…There's someone you have to say good-bye to?"
Jenna nodded.
"You'll have time."
v
He handed her the datapad and her application file. He stood and grabbed a tight-packed duffle bag from the pile behind him. He put it on the desk. She had her files in one hand and lifted the bag off the desk with her right. He looked at her again. That had been too easy for someone her size. He wouldn't be the last person that fact would take by surprise.
"Head down to the Officers at the docking gate."
"Yes, sir."
"Don't thank me, kid. I'm not sure you should be." She replied with certainty as she moved away, heading for the docking area.
"I am."
v
The interviewer beside him looked around the divider as he seated himself.
"What was that, Chief?" she asked. He laughed and shook his head.
"I don't know. I just get the feeling that one of these days, I'm going to be the one giving her the 'yes, sir'." After a breath in and out, he gestured to the next applicant in line, beckoning them over.
v
Arcturus Station
As one of thirty uniformly dressed individuals in a tight formation, after nine miles of a ten mile run, her eyes were still clear and focused. She still felt strong.
I've heard it said in times of hardship we find strength in ourselves we don't normally possess. I disagree. Hardship makes what we are into something stronger, or destroys what can't withstand it. - Jenna Shepard
v
2168 - Gagarin Station (Jump Zero)
Shepard pulled her helmet off, slinging it under one arm as she approached the rest of her squad. Holstering her rifle, she waved at the first of them to look her way. The review had gone well. They saw it in her face. As she got close, one of her squad tried to clear and catch a cartridge to reload but missed the catch. She dove for it but it bounced off her fingers and went skittering across the floor. Shepard shook her head and jogged after it.
Hitting a booted heel it came to a stop. She had a restrained smile on when he looked her way. He met her eyes for a moment and smiled, bending to pick up the cartridge. He walked to meet her rather than make her close the distance.
Dark, short hair. Light brown…almost amber eyes. Easy on the eyes, too. There was a girl standing with the bunch he was with. She had her eyes on him the entire time. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Beautiful. She didn't know it but there were eyes on her, too.
He held the cartridge out to her, staying silent. Anything he wanted to say seemed ridiculously obvious.
"Appreciate it," she said, nodding. He smiled slightly.
"No problem."
As she took the cartridge a shock you could hear passed between them. She jerked her hand back, cartridge returned. She laughed.
"Wow." Emphasis on the 'ow', she thought. He took his hand away, a flush starting to show on his cheeks.
"Sorry." One of his friends jogged up behind him and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him away.
"Let's go, Volts. We're gonna miss roll call."
The boy smiled and waved as he was dragged backward, back to his friends. She nodded.
"Thanks," she said, loud enough to make sure he could hear it over the noise of the busy station. Turning, she ran back to her squad, handing the cartridge to its rightful owner. She gave her hand a shake.
"That was one hell of a shock."
"No surprise there. They're biotics. Most people here are…Eezo brains." Shepard frowned. His tone was derisive. Someone that…decent…didn't deserve to be seen that way.
"I wonder what it's like," she said absently. She'd read up on biotics to prepare for the training exercise. They were capable of some pretty neat stuff. Having one with you in the field…she looked back to where he'd been standing. The group was long gone.
"Get a move on." She stepped forward, the rest of the squad in tow.
"Let's be ready to ship out."
A telling moment, momentarily forgotten, never remembered again by either party.
Revised Mass Effect Timeline
2150
- September 12 - Jenna Shepard born, according to Alliance Enlistment documents
2151
- Kaidan Alenko born
2152
- April 11 - Jenna Shepard born
2166
- Mindoir colony attacked by Batarian slavers
- BAaT established
- Assuming the name Jenna Shepard, Shepard successfully enrolls in the Alliance Youth Outreach Program and begins training at the Academy in Vancouver
2168
- Encounter at Gagarin Station
- BAaT shut down after Head Instructor, turian Commander Vyrnus, is killed by a student
2173
- Elysium attacked, Shepard's sister dies
2175
- Torfan (Shepard is 23 years of age)
A Word from the Author
So…when Shepard and Kaidan first met sparks actually flew. .