Chapter 9: To Survive

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by the amazing people at Bioware.

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but schools just started, and I've been busy. I have school from seven to three, and with three AP classes worth of homework, I've got more than my share of time spent studying.

MEMEMEME

As his pod fell from the sky, Shepard could see the ashes and smoke. Buildings that had once seemed to tower over everything crumbled in disgrace. Farmlands were burning, and even from up this high, he could make out the flash of mass accelerators, and the occasional explosion.

"Brace for impact in 3." A VI said curtly.

"2."

"1."

Darkness, fire, and pain surrounded him as the world came up to meet his small craft.

Shepard collapsed as soon as he escaped the burning shuttle, and stood up slowly. Afraid to find he had broken anything in impact. He was fortunate to have escaped the wreckage of the pod with only mild burns, and a couple of scratches. At first, he had been worried that he may have dislocated his shoulder, but further scrutiny revealed nothing.

Shepard took a deep breath. Movement, to his left. As he always did during training, his brain took things in as flashes and pictures. His senses were further heightened by a cold rush of adrenaline.

A single bullet traveled faster than his eyes could follow. Out of instinct, his arms rose as if in an attempt to stop the bullet with his bare hands. Obviously, whoever had fired the shot didn't expect the bullet to stop in midair.

Shepard grimaced, and threw a warp from where the shot had originated, hearing a gratifying yelp as the dark energy began to eat at whatever had attacked him.

A second attacker burst from the brush to his right. "It's the biotic, fire, fucking fire!"

Shepard put all of his willpower into creating a barrier into stopping the bullets.

"Do not think about what you want to happen. Imagine how it will happen." Sarona said

He was trying to heat up a cup of tea with only his mind. He had gone through this exercise regularly, but had not yet been able to succeed. Then again, no non-Asari biotics had been able to do so. By now, he knew he was special, but no one knew the extent of his abilities.

Shepard closed his eyes, and focused once more on each individual molecule that made up the tea. He imagined a great fire burning, and saw each molecule speed up, and vibrate. Shepard opened his eyes, and saw the cup boiling over.

Shepard kneeled, and raised his hands, palm up. "Imagine how it will happen." He whispered to himself. He brought his hands into a cross over his chest, and felt his barriers giving way to the small projectiles. He was close to breaking, and the slavers knew it.

The damn kid just wouldn't go down. Cerberus must have done some fucked up shit to make a human kid capable of stopping a barrage of bullets with nothing more than his mind.

The biotic dropped to his knees and said something unintelligible. "Keep firing, keep firing." His bloody rifle was about to overheat.

Just as his gun clicked a warning, and ejected the spent thermal clip, the child in front of him spread his arms out and yelled.

Shepard began to stand, and as he did so, he let his barriers fall.

It was always interesting to read the words of the Asari matriarchs. They were so mystic, and had innumerable meanings. Right now, he wasn't concerned about the beauty of their language though. He stared at the diagram matriarch Samara had drawn.

The Asari let her barriers flow through her body, and after enough pressure had built, she let her biotics explode in an explosion with more force than most biotic throws achieved.

Shepard let out a load roar as he felt the pressure in his body reach critical mass, until he couldn't hold it, and Batarians, rocks, and plants were blasted back from the explosion.

After a few agonizing breaths, Shepard opened his eyes, and took in the destruction. He hadn't been anywhere near as powerful as Samara had been, but it had certainly been effective.

There was a small crater around him, and a few trees had lost limbs in the explosion. One of the smaller ones had very nearly snapped.

Shepard looked at his hand, and saw that they were shaking, and eerie blue light was visible beneath his hands. Shepard clenched his hands shut, and took off running towards his house. He hopped the Batarians hadn't reached the mountains yet, but if one group had gotten this far...

MEMEMEME

"God almighty..." Corporal Johnson, unlike some Cerberus personnel, was not prejudice against biotics, but when he saw the destruction that a seventeen year old could unleash... Well, it made him want to lock up everything that had even the smallest amount of biotic ability, and throw away the key.

Even the purple Asari next to him was visibly disturbed by the destruction. Trees were damaged, and if it wasn't for their four eyes, it would have been difficult to tell the Batarians apart from any other race, bloodied and broken as they were. A few steps more, and they saw ground zero. Tree limbs were scattered everywhere, and all but the densest iron-rich soil had been blasted away.

Johnson looked down at his omni-tool as his boss popped out of the machine.

"Sarona, I want a status report."

The Asari stared at him for a few seconds before saying "I don't know."

His cybernetic eyes seemed to dim for a second. "What do you mean you 'don't know?' It's your job to know."

Sarona still seemed to be looking at something far off. "I mean sir, that I have never seen something like this. I've heard that there was an Asari Justicar that had done something similar, but I always thought it was an exaggeration."

His cybernetic eyes flashed like a greedy kid who had just been told about Christmas. "He will be a valuable asset to Cerberus. Sarona, secure Subject 42 at all costs, do you hear me? At all costs!"

Sarona made a snap decision. "I hear you." She spat at the holographic representation of her one-time boss. "By the way, his name is Kyler John Shepard."

Sarona summoned her biotics, and snapped Corporal Johnson's neck before he could react. Her old boss was still on the omni-tool, still active on the now limp arm.

"Think about what you are doing Sarona. This could advance biotic technology for all races."

"You care nothing about aliens, only about human dominance."

"That may be true, but nor do you." He cooed. "This will be your final assignment, do this, and I will give you all the information you need to hunt down the Shadow Broker."

She had hated her boss, and everything he stood for. He had always said that if he just did one more thing, she would have the information she needed to kill the Shadow Broker. No more, she would not become a monster just to kill one. "Go to hell."

Sarona resisted the urge to break the omni-tool, but she needed this particular one to make a call.

She slipped off her old omni-tool, and used the late Johnson's omni-tool, that was capable of hacking past the Batarian's comm silence. She dialed a hotline that had been given to her to be used in a high priority emergency. "Systems Alliance." An officer said curtly.

"Mindoir is being attacked by Batarians. Cerberus is involved." She answered equally curt.

"Fuck. Any more Intel you can provide?"

Before Sarona could answer, she heard a sharp pop behind her. Sarona looked down at the spreading violet liquid across her chest. As she sank to her knees, she saw the nearly dead corporal Johnson barley able to aim his gun, and fire three more times.

She may have betrayed Kyler ever since he had known her, but she had given him a chance to escape. The Alliance was no where near perfect, but anything was better than working for Cerberus. It was a far cry from redemption, but it was the best she could do.

Sarona closed her eyes, and repeated the blessing she had given to her prodigy the last time she had seen him. 'May Athame guide your steps, and may your enemies corpses never feed the great mother shark.' Hopefully he hasn't listened to my message yet otherwise I might not feed the mother shark, she thought darkly. "Go, find what peace you may find Mrak." -brother/sister-

MEMEMEME

To him, there were no trees, no brush, and no thrones scraping against his bandaged legs. There was no burning sky, and there was no smokey air. To him, all their was was the burning pain, strained muscle, and unchecked emotions. A thousand thoughts passed through his mind as he rushed towards home.

Is dad alive? Is Sam alive? Is Sarona alive?

Am I alive? That was perhaps the most frighting questions, because it was the one with the most uncertain answer. He had woken up a few days ago with a frightening amount of incisions, yet had somehow managed to survive.

Now, every step he took, brought him one step closer to home, and one step closer to realizing the fate of his father.

With a last burst of energy, Shepard broke through the line of trees, and on to the familiar farm grounds he had seen since the day he was born.

MEMEMEME

One Hour Ago

John Shepard supposed it was true what they said. 'You can take the man out of the Alliance, but you can never take the Alliance out of the man.'

John spared a final glance at his rather large collection of medals and pictures. He had logged every man and woman who had served under him. He had failed most of them. Matt, Suzan, Tucker, Edward, Kelly, and so many more. It was the burden he carried when he became a Commander, and it was a burden that he still carried.

He had hoped that when he moved to Mindoir with Jane, he would be able to forget. And it had worked too. For a time. But every once in a while, he would return to the basement, and relive his past. It was painful, but sometimes, he thought it was the only thing that really kept him alive.

John grabbed his old assault rifle beside his Star of Terra. He had been awarded the prestigious medal for his heroic defense of earth during the First Contact War. He had been the third person ever to receive it, but to him, it didn't represent heroics and honor. To him it symbolized death, destruction, and every evil thing he had left behind.

Still, it had also been a measure of the soldier he had been. The thing he never wanted to be, ever again. In a moment of vanity, John picked up the Star of Terra, and pinned it to his dirty farmer garb, above his heart. It certainly was true, you couldn't take the Alliance out of the man

Without looking back, John rounded the corner, and entered his house through the back door. This bastards may not be human, but then again, nor where the Turians.

John took position behind the kitchen counter, and counted to fifteen before he heard the front door bang open. Without looking over the counter, John knew that three men had just entered his house. John sucked in a quick breath, and starting firing at random as soon as a ducked out of cover. As he suspected, the invaders were armed with only simple kinetic barriers and combat armor. Two Batarians fell instantly, and the third was heavily wounded before finding cover behind a small alcove behind the stairs.

John hid behind the counter again, and waited. These raiders were simply thugs with shiny guns, and custom armor. He doubted the Batarian had ever actually been seasoned in battle.

As if to prove his point, the Batarian ran around the corner, and into the kitchen. Right where John was waiting for him.

The military issue talon knife was unsheathed, and was drunk with alien blood, before either warrior realized what had just happened.

The Batarian clutched at the gaping wound in his throat that was bleeding profusely. No amount of medi-gel in the world would save him.

John crouched behind cover, and waited for the next wave. He had no doubts that he would see plenty more bloodshed before the day was over.

MEMEMEME

Present Time

John finished applying the medi-gel to his growing collection of wounds. His reserves were dwindling dangerously low, and he doubted it would be safe for him to use whatever medicine these aliens used. John spat out a wad of blood, and went back to treating yet another wound. Fortunately, most of the bullets had simply glanced off his bones, but a couple on his chest where not so good. And if the pain in his lungs when he breathed was any indicator, he had at least two broken ribs.

It had been frightening how easily he had fallen into the simple routine: take cover, fire, kill, repeat. He didn't know if that made him a monster, but it was certainly the only thing standing between him, and oblivion.

His commandeered comlink alerted him to more hostiles incoming. John positioned himself behind the low wall near the entrance, shotgun in hand.

It was never the appropriate time, but he had time to reflect on his life during battle. The adrenaline seemed to give him a clarity he could not get anywhere else. He didn't know what had happened to his son, but as long as he was millions of miles away from here, it didn't really matter, as long as he was safe.

A group of Batarians stormed through the remains of the front door. John was able to make out about eight soldiers. He must have really earned their ire if they wanted him dead this badly. John popped out from cover, and landed on one knee. He had shot twice, before the gun was even up to his shoulder, and he didn't stop firing until the heat sink popped out.

John hid behind the wall before the first barrage of shots rained down on his cover. Either this batch of raiders were extremely skilled, or lucky, but one of the bullets grazed his ribs.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, John stood out from cover, and returned fire. One of the dumber aliens refused to duck, and was gunned down instantly with a single pump of the shotgun. The other remaining three took cover behind the kitchen counter that he had hid behind originally.

John crouched down, and tried to approach the counter as furtively as he could. John jumped over the counter, no longer with any intentions of stealth, and gunned down thee two Batarians hiding there.

I must be getting old, I thought I saw three-

John spun around, and slashed at the air with his knife. The crude weapon sliced through the air harmlessly, and the Batarian took advantage of the delay, stepping in, and pressing the muzzle of his pistol on John's gut.

Kyler burst through the back door, and looked at the destruction that littered the house. It didn't take him long to notice the two figure fighting in the kitchen. Shepard rounded the corner, and watched as an alien pulled a gun on his father, and shot him. Twice.

Shouting in indignant rage, Shepard's face contorted into one of rage, hatred, and something of a nightmare, surrounded in a haze of dark blue energy.

The Batarian whipped his head around, too late. His four eyes barley had time to register a flash of blue, before his body was lifted effortlessly, and sent flying through the thick wood of the house's support.

Shepard instantly gave pursuit, and found the pathetic being, crawling away on broken hands and knees. The Batarian cowered as the shadow of the child passed over him. "Please, have mercy."

Shepard spat at the... thing in front of him. "Mercy? Mercy? Did you show mercy when you killed the colonists, my friends? My father? You are unworthy of life!" Shepard barred his teeth as he lifted the Batarian in the air. Shepard stepped forward, and touched his hand to the aliens forehead.

Sarona: "A true biotic is capable of much more than simply moving physical objects. Yes, any biotic can condense matter into a warp, any biotic can move a rock, and any biotic with enough focus can move something as small as molecules to heat up water. However, only a true biotic can convert matter into energy. Such techniques are often condemned in society, but on the battlefield, anything goes. This conversion of matter to energy is often called reave."

What Sarona had said was true, converted matter could be used to heal, but it could also be used to kill. It could be used to make people suffer. It could be used to torture. As Shepard touched his hand to the aliens head, a faint red glow was visible in the 'humans' palm.

The Batarian writhed under the seemingly benign light, and the grass underfoot withered and died, as if they hadn't been exposed to light in days. Meanwhile, a sadistic expression had been plastered to Shepard's face, as he drank in the living life-force of everything around him.

John: "A Shepard's name is his own job description: a Shepard is a Protector. Each generation of our family has taken up the title with pride. Many have sought to protect through medicine or science. Others have protected with guns and bullets, but each has done his piece to protect those who can not. A Shepard is a Protector, but a Protector is harder to define. A Protector is someone who not only protects those who can't, but is also a champion of justice. A Protector should never seek revenge and destruction, or want to hurt others because they enjoy it. A Shepard is a Protector, and we are Shepards."

Slowly, the grin on his face disappeared, and Shepard let the Batarian fall to the ground. To the confused expression on the aliens face, Shepard said simply "I am a Shepard; a Shepard is a Protector; a Protector does not seek revenge; I am a Protector."

Shepard turned his back on the destruction behind him, and mounted the stairs as the light from his house, as well as the dying light of his biotics illuminated his face.

John coughed blood from his punctured lungs. If he had more medi-gel, and a good doctor, he might be able to live, but without either, his chances were looking pretty grim.

As his vision began to fade to gray, a figure hunched over him. At first he thought it was the Batarian, come to finish him. Then he felt a cold drop splash on his cheek. Whoever was looming over him was sobbing. "Dad? Dad."

John smiled. It was good to be near his son. One of his hands squeezed his son's hand with surprising force for a dying man, and the other reached up to caress his son's face. There he felt more tears, ready to cascade down. "You know our family motto?"

Shepard whimpered for a second before responding "Y-yes, a Shepard is a Protector."

"That's my boy." John breathed. "A Shepard is a Protector, and we will not let fear change who we are. Never let fear corrupt who you are."

"T-the Batarian w-who shot you... He's alive..."

John smiled. "You are a better man than I. A better Shepard, a better Protector. I am so proud of you my son. So proud. You haven't let fear change you; don't, or you wont like what you become."

"I wont father, I promise." Kyler vowed.

"I know." John let go of his sons hand, and reached up to his heart. When his hand rejoined with Kyler's, it was slick with blood, but it also had a sharp, pointed object in it. "I never told you, a Shepard is a Protector, and I failed. I was given charge of a squad, and they died. I failed to protect my friends, and failed myself. In response for my bravery" even in his death throes, John was able to scoff "I was awarded the Star of Terra. I never deserved it, but you do. You are a good person Kyler, don't let anything the Alliance does change that. They will tear you down, to build you up. They will take your humanity; don't let them. They will turn you into something that only cares for destruction, but that is not what a Protector is. Always remember that. You are a Protector, and not a killer. There is a difference." John coughed once more. He wiped the blood speckled on his lips with his shoulder, and continued as he closed his eyes. "I am so proud. Now, make yourself proud. I love you Kyler. Never forget that. I love you."

Kyl- Shepard tilted his head back and screamed. He cursed the aliens, he cursed the Alliance, he cursed fate and God, but most of all, he cursed himself. If only he had been faster. He should have gotten here faster!

Finally, when his voice was too hoarse to yell anymore, he could make out the sound of approaching footsteps. As darkness surrounded the landscape, Shepard was kept in the light of his biotics, dancing around his body, and protecting his body, while also harming those who would harm others. Shepard blocked the first burst of gunfire, and sent a shockwave through the night, illuminating the form of a Batarian squad.

Shepard focused on each life he snuffed out, trying to find pity, so as to keep his humanity. His father was right. He couldn't succumb to fear and hate, lest he become a monster himself. He would carry on the Shepard ideals. He would make his father proud.

MEMEMEME

I can finally say that I think I did pretty good on this chapter. At first I thought I focused too much on the blood-lust, so I focused on symbolism and even some poetry. Hope you like this. As always, review! I haven't been getting recently, so my ability to write quickly has been hampered. If you want to see more chapters soon, review. Even if it's just a generic 'hey good job, hope to see more chapters soon.' Reviews make my day. Anyway, thanks for reading.

P.S. If anyone was confused, when Shepard exits the escape pod, and sends out that biotic explosion thing, imagine the shield one of your biotic party members hold up during the suicide mission in ME2.

P.P.S. When Shepard was sucking the life of the guy at the end, remember what he does after losing consciousness when the gang tries to rape Sam.