III

Potential

DIALOGUE, R. PARRISH, SCHOOL COUNSELOR, AND M. BIRCH, SECRETARY, UPON TRANSFERRING THE DISCIPLINARY FILE OF SHEPARD, BETH, TO THE SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL, 2169.

M. BIRCH: What about this one? Shepard. Beth Shepard.

R. PARRISH: Let me see. She hasn't been in for a while. Hmm. Foster kid since before she came to us. She's been in . . . seven homes, never adopted. But only a four as far as the system's concerned.

M. BIRCH: . . . Four? What's that mean?

R. PARRISH: That means her guardians haven't had many disciplinary concerns about her. In the home, she's independent, but not hostile or a runaway risk, and she gets along with other fosters. Your basic kid trouble, nothing out of the ordinary.

M. BIRCH: (confused) But she was moved six times, and her file's pretty thick.

R. PARRISH: (paging through the file) As far as I can tell, that's why she was moved, at least twice. This kid is fine in the home. At school or in the neighborhood? Not so much. I have here a bunch of parent complaints—never any actual lawsuits, but . . . (hisses, then slightly impressed) this girl messed some other kids up back in elementary. Huh.

M. BIRCH: What?

R. PARRISH: According to teacher reports, this girl fights defensively. Or . . . fought, rather. To protect herself or other kids from bullying.

M. BIRCH: Junior vigilante?

R. PARRISH: Looks that way.

M. BIRCH: Good for her. But she stopped?

R. PARRISH: (somewhat surprised) Yeah. Around grade 6, the disciplinary reports slow way down. Her grades were always stellar, but they get even better, especially in computer science and history. The last disciplinary report was filed over two and a half years ago, and apparently, she's graduating top of her junior high.

M. BIRCH: I'm going to switch her label to green. Sounds like she's grown up.

R. PARRISH: Yellow. She's a foster kid. You always need to watch them, Mona. I hope Beth Shepard's turned it around, but kids like her—they don't have a lot of options—and they have a lot of issues. At least she seems smarter than most.

Sweat beaded on Beth's brow, threatening to run into her eyes, and she grinned at the four people opposite her. Kitty and Jim looked nervous. Finch was angry. Only Stace was cool as ever, watching her every move for tells. Finch came first. He punched out, and Beth sidestepped and caught his arm. She threw him over her hip and kicked him in the ribs, just hard enough so he knew she could destroy him if she wanted.

Kitty and Jim came next. They tried to catch her between them, trap her, but she ducked out, caught Jim a blow to the head right to a pressure point, not nearly hard enough to kill, or quite hard enough to knock him out, but enough that he fell back, dazed, and sat down hard enough that his ass would probably hurt more than his head. Kitty got in a good blow to Beth's thigh. Beth's leg almost buckled, but she'd already aimed her punch to wind Kitty, and it connected, breaking her air and making her stagger back. Beth swept her foot around and hit just above Kitty's ankle, really making her legs buckle beneath her, and she went down with her husband.

Then Stace was on her, faster than all the others and a whole lot smarter. She was, after all, the one that had taught Beth to fight smart instead of hard in the first place. Dodge, duck, block, guard, don't move until you move, the three years of instruction played over and over in Beth's head as she went at it hammer and tongs with Stace. Finally, she caught Stace in a hold. Stace could get out if she wanted. But the point was that Beth had been able to catch her at all.

Beth laughed aloud, high on her success, then, like lightning, drew Stace's gun, turned, and aimed at the range target across the warehouse. Checking the sight lines in a heartbeat, she fired the pistol once, twice, five times into the target, twenty-three meters away.

There were eleven of them in just then, counting Beth's sparring partners. About half the gang. But for a long moment after she fired the gun, it was dead silent in the warehouse. Then, Lopez got up off of the crate he'd been sitting on and walked all the way to the other end of the warehouse to the target, and Beth realized just how stupid she'd been.

Hastily, she handed the gun back to Stace. Stace took it without a word. Lukas Greer watched Beth with pale face and worried eyes. He shook his head. Across the warehouse, Lopez looked at the target. Then he walked back. He clapped once, twice, five times. Each clap rang out like the shots from before and echoed through the silent warehouse. Beth shuddered.

"Dead center, every shot," Lopez said. "I'd like to see what you could do with a moving target, Shepard. Seems our Little Beth's grown up into the deadliest hitter in the Reds. That was some display."

Beth laughed, and hated that the laugh sounded hollow, sounded fake, sounded scared. "I probably just got lucky, Tony. And Stace totally could've had me if she wanted. In a second. I wouldn't stand a chance against Nash either."

She shot a nervous glance at Lopez's number two. The Reds were thieves and criminals, but for the most part they were alright. They looked out for their own and made their way, but that was business. Nash was a different story. Beth had known that from day one, even before she'd known his name. He'd relished making her scream when all the others had hesitated putting her on the ground, as little as she'd been back then. Now he watched her with his cold, green eyes, appraising her.

"Maybe," he said. His voice always reminded Beth of gravel in a cement mixer. "Maybe not. You're damn good, Little Beth. Could be a soldier, like Stace. Couple of jobs we could use you on."

"I need her," Lukas spoke up. He shrugged, as if embarrassed. "These old hands don't move like they used to, and I don't see so good anymore. You got someone else who can do what she does? Your tech support takes a hell of a dive if you make Beth a heavy, Tony."

"Besides," Stace said, "She's still sloppy. Left her left wide open there at the end, and we've never practiced on a moving target, like you said. Geek like Beth'd probably freak, when push came to shove and things got hot."

Beth felt a rush of gratitude and affection for both Stace and Lukas, but she was careful not to let it show on her face as Lopez considered. "Alright," he said. "But keep working with her, Stace. Beth, you sure you want to stay in school, though? Nash is right. We could use you full time. You could help Lukas and do more."

The choice meant she could still win this argument, and Beth seized the opportunity. "The minute I drop out I'm half the use," she said. "I'm not suspicious after four and on the weekends. Cops see me in the day, and they know something's up, even if they think I'm just playing hooky. I don't want you caught 'cause of me."

Maybe she was playing it too broad, laying it on too thick, but Lopez let it slide anyway. "Have it your way," he shrugged. He reached out and ruffled her hair. "But I'm watching you, Little Beth. Man, when you graduate? We're going to tear it up!"

He turned away, and so did almost everyone else, going back to talking and drinking and whatever. But Nash continued to watch her with his cold, green eyes.

Stace jerked her head, and Beth followed her out of the warehouse. "You're playing with fire, Shepard," Stace muttered under her breath. "That was too close. You can't practice back there anymore. Not where the others can see you."

"Yeah, no shit," Beth said. "Can you hold off Tony?"

"Only if you lay low," Stace warned. "Only reason he let us all talk him down just now is 'cause he likes you, and he doesn't want you hurt any more than Lukas and me, really. But he's the boss, and he's got to use his resources. He'll pretend to forget you're one, as a favor to me, but that's only if Nash and Finch and them don't remind him. He's got to stay in charge, too. If Nash ran the show—"

"You don't have to tell me," Beth said. She shuddered again. "I'll lay low," she promised Stace. "Stick to the tech where the others can see. I'm sorry I slipped. I just—"

"You're good," Stace said. "You wanted to feel it for a moment. I get it. But don't slip again. You don't want to have to do the stuff I've done."

Beth looked up into her friend's hard, scarred face. Stace was right, but, "I don't want to do the stuff I've done, either," she murmured.

Stace sighed. She looked so much older than nineteen as she said, "I know, kid. I know." She put an arm around Beth's shoulders, and the two of them walked on into the night.

A/N: A lot of the OCs in these early parts of Disaster Zone don't matter much. They come and go, just passing through Shepard's life, like most people you knew when you were younger, whether that was grade school or the first town you lived in as an adult. But like every life, Shepard's has exceptions. Stacey Paxton is one. She's also a bit of a nod to default FemShep, as an acknowledgment that there's always someone out there who can do just what you do but takes a different road or doesn't have the same opportunities.

Did you spot the character in this chapter that wasn't an OC (for all they don't appear on fanfiction's character list for Mass Effect)?

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