Chapter Six

February 1st 2168

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Travelling has not been as much fun as Shepard imagined. Since leaving the garage behind she has lived in five in three different states. They are all the same and she is bored.

She has managed to pay for her travel and sometimes a room with the money she inherited, but she's running out now. The problem is that nobody wants to employ her for any job because of her age. If she's honest, she could have tried much harder to get work but she is worried about losing her independence. She wants to try waitressing but no-one wants her. She's too young and she needs to have some sort of permit. She doesn't want to fill in forms. She's fine as she is.

Shepard still hasn't quite come to terms with the responsibility. Now she has grown up a little and seen the world, so it's up to her to fix all these problems and fill in all the forms. She knows all of this, but she just doesn't care anymore. She has given up. So she sits in a town she doesn't even know the name of, somewhere outside Denver because the cops in Denver do a sweep at nights to stop people sleeping on the floor. They're trying really hard to make the city look nice, so she isn't welcome.

Now she wraps her arms around her sweaty legs and chews a piece of gum she's had in her mouth all day. It is starting to fall apart. It won't stick together anymore and she keeps having to mould the abused white substance back together with her tongue. Maybe if she keeps this up she can completely turn it into powder. Perhaps that wouldn't work, but she could probably chew it so much that is actually disappears. She could actually consume a tab of gum.

Though it terrified her at first, living freely and without anyone in her life has a strong appeal. Sometimes she really wishes she had someone to talk to. Frankly, she is now old enough to have a boyfriend. She's missing out on all of that because of her lifestyle. But then, she wouldn't even know what do to with a boyfriend if she had one. She doesn't want one.

"Excuse me, miss…" says a gentle voice. It reminds her of Julie, one of the staff at the Landing. Her favourite because she cared the most. Tried the hardest.

Looking up, Shepard sees pale blue eyes, but they are surrounded by smooth skin the exact same colour. She involuntarily blinks and shuffles back slightly, then worries about what the asari woman will think of her.

"Uh…" she stammers. "Hi. Uh, hi!"

The asari backs off a little with a cute, embarrassed half-smile. She is young, or rather, she looks young. Shepard knows little about aliens, but she has read somewhere that the asari can live to be more than a few hundred years old. This visitor could be any age at all.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but… are you all right?" the asari asks. From a less sincere face this might have seemed patronising to Shepard, but she is warmed by the question. "You seem to be on your own. Are you… do you live here?"

The girl is currently sat underneath the sheltered door of a barber's shop. The idea of living there is strange, so her imagination wanders off with the concept for a moment. Finally she tells her visitor no.

"My name is Hel'alia," says the bald, blue woman. "I'm a stranger here." No kidding.

"I'm Shepard." She holds out a hand and receives a strangely enthusiastic shake from the alien. She starts to chew her gum a lot faster, shredding the weakened substance.

Hel'alia frowns in the sweetest way then says, "I don't know enough about your people to attempt any kind of subtlety here. You seem very young and you're alone here at night. I'm worried about you."

Shepard feels a little kinship with the stooped-over asari. She has never met a non-human before, so she is just as lost in the conversation. "Thanks," she says, embarrassed. "But I'm okay. I get by, that is."

"Are you homeless, Shepard?"

"Uhm."

"I'm not trying to embarrass you. I apologise."

Shepard holds out a hand. "It's okay. Yeah I'm on the streets at the moment…"

Hel'alia kneels now so they are at eye-level. Her skin is so smooth it doesn't quite look real, as if she is made out of felt. Shepard becomes very aware that there are tiny scraps of gum stuck to her teeth. She closes her mouth and tries to clean her teeth using her tongue. It's not easy.

"Shepard, I don't like this. You shouldn't be living like this. You must be cold. Here…"

The asari takes off her outer garment; it is too strange a design to be called a jacket. Shepard doesn't even recognise the material it is made from. No-one has offered her something like this before. Not a stranger anyway. The asari is too nice for hew own good. "No, please…" she says. "I can't…"

"Nonsense."

"No, it wouldn't." She gives up tact. "Some of the folks here can be pretty rough. I think it would get me… in trouble… but thanks. Really, thanks. I'm okay."

"Oh," Hel'alia says. "Would it get you in trouble because it's not a human style? I see. Well then …" she puts the jacket back on, makes herself comfortable and starts talking. For half an hour the two of them stay there talking. About the business that had brought Hel'alia to Denver, about how Shepard got by, about Denver itself, about where Shepard's next meal was coming from…

It feels wonderful to have somebody concerned about her. It is also a strangely fun experience to simply look at an alien directly, rather than on a screen or as a hologram. In the shade her skin isn't so striking. Aside from the dotted little ridges on her head, she looks exactly like any other person. She looks a little bit like Julie, in fact. Small galaxy.

Eventually the conversation dries up, and there are awkward smiles. Hel'alia likes Shepard now. Because of this rather than her earlier pity, she gives the girl some money. It's sixty credits and she actually apologises that it isn't more. Hel'alia must be loaded.

"I can't take this. It's not right…"

"You are a child, Shepard, on the street at night. You can take it. Please. It will break my heart if you don't."

Shepard believes she isn't exaggerating, or at least not much. It feels bad, but she takes the money. It will really come in handy.

"Good," Hel'alia says. "That's that. Now, I don't want you sleeping here tonight. You are a little stubborn… how can I convince you to come with me?"

It bothers Shepard a little to be called 'stubborn'. No-one has called her that since Illinois. People tend to think the opposite of her these days. She tells the asari there is no need but it doesn't faze her.

"No, no, no." She is starting to sound like a school matron now, and Shepard is both happy and intrigued to see this aspect of her personality. "There must be some sort of program set up for children in your situation. You can't be expected to survive by yourself. I shan't conduct any more trade with a species who would let their children suffer like this!"

Shepard feels ambivalent but she has to think fast. As much as she would love to let this strange creature help her, she is terrified of what might come after. Her life now is far from ideal, but she likes being in control. And she is going to fix it. To get things right. Things have to get worse before they can get better, but now they're about to get better. For once, she isn't going to waste the money she has been given. She accidentally swallows the flaccid, pathetic remains of the gum and chokes a little.

Hel'alia's soft hand rests on Shepard's shoulder. She isn't trying to hold the girl down. She is just showing her that she cares. The thumb moves back and forth a little, and the caress reminds her of better days. It feels incredible and she doesn't want that gentle hand to ever leave her.

Scrambling for her few belongings, Shepard grabs them, stands and runs. The loud smacks of her soles against the pavement and the insults and cries she hears in her head drown out whatever it is the asari is saying. She doesn't turn her head around until she is sure she has not been followed.

She's free again. She really wants to cry but she doesn't let herself. No more of that. If she's going to live this life then she has to start living it right. When she explores the next town she will be ready for it. She has to be. There are no excuses anymore.

She's going to stand up for herself.