Face It

Vacation

She wasn't very social, of course, but she did have friends. At least, there were people she didn't hate. It wasn't always easy, but she managed to get on a first name basis with a few people. (Well, she called them their first names. She was always Shepard. Her name was hard to remember, or hard to pronounce... she never really understood.)

The problem with that was, when you'd finally been around someone long enough, something happened. Like your bosses got tired of you working all the time. Apparently, there were rules as to how long you could go without leaving the ship.

It was because of those rules- that Shepard was sure she had never seen before- that Shepard found herself being almost literally ejected off the ship. And she was none too happy about it. She pouted, quiet openly, in the mess hall.

"Shepard, it's not so bad."

"Toombs, if you don't want to be located in your namesake, I suggest shutting your mouth. I have more arms in my possession than you would believe on a government salary." Shepard threatened. She wasn't sure if she was kidding.

He backed off. And smiled like an old friend. She sighed. There was no reason for all of this. They were stranding her on some planet that didn't even have a military. It had one station- one tiny station to connect to it's officials. And she was being dumped on the other side of the rock, leaving no chance of her getting any military training. She would be, effectively, cut off from the military life for a few weeks.

Torture, for lack of a better term.

…

"Be careful on Torfan, Toombs. I hear its dicey out there." She said as way of parting. Her bag of munitions was quite heavy, and she wanted to get underway. It was pointless standing around. She wasn't getting to leave on this ship. She would regroup later.

"No problem. And, ah, you...relax." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He knew she wasn't happy about it. Knew she wasn't going to want any pleasantries. Still, he was pleased to see she accepted well.

When the door closed, Shepard groaned. Two weeks was a long time.

…

The channels couldn't be flipped fast enough. She almost stopped on a human vid- "Star Wars"- but she didn't want to waste so much time on a marathon. It seemed to stretch all day long, and she refused to spend all day inside. She'd seen the vids several times, but they never got old. Still, so much time, nothing to do. She really hated vacation.

She swore that if she took her weapons apart one more time, she was going to put a hole in either herself or the wall. The latter sounded like a lot of trouble, the former painful. Any less than wasting away slowly? She couldn't answer for sure.

…

She was forcing herself to sleep when the first crash sounded. The civvies immediately began screaming, lights began coming on. The hum of activity seemed fantastically new to this planet. She enjoyed it. Nonetheless, she grabbed her gear and headed out as soon as she was able. The duffel bag of munitions was thrown over her shoulder. Finally! Something to do.

For the first time in her week and a half here, she was grateful for the artificial lighting. It was easy to see her opponents. Batarians. Of course, of course. Batarians.

It poked her old wounds. She wasn't going to let another Mindoir happen. Not when she had the ability to make a difference. Her omni-tool had, since the beginning of the attack, been crying out every few minutes for aide. She sent her signal, hoping it would dance to the military center and someone would call for real backup.

There were a few people who tried to help her. Civvies who'd used guns before. They only lasted the first day. It was alright. They'd set up a perimeter, to which the Batarians held fastly to. They didn't deviate from the one place that was actually most dangerous to them. She had sent the civilian fighters around the buildings, leading any advancing squad right into her kill box. It was a beautiful move, from a tactical point of view. It was simple. They walk in, she shoots. They die, she doesn't.

Two and half days in, she's running out of energy. Even her internal monsters can't keep her awake. Sometimes, a few make it past the pile of corpses. Too close for comfort. She does what she can to fight them off, but she knew she couldn't hold out much longer. It just wasn't possible.

She had to admit, she felt pretty cool realizing how many hostiles she'd downed without so much as getting shot at. If she were a sniper, this would be heaven. Someday, she vowed, she had to learn.

Near the end of the third day, with the city around her in ruins- a failed attempt at usurping the resistance by the Batarians- a wave of shots came from behind her. She recognized the clicks and stutters of the weapons- standard Alliance issue. The cavalry had arrived! She let her shoulders sag after all of the shooting stopped.

…

Oh, politics and paparazzo alike just ate it up. The heroic story of an unfortunate orphan who made her way into the military, and vowed never to let what happened to her happen to anyone else. How she, single-handedly, saved a human world with little to no value except tourism. She would have much rather been with her unit at Torfan.

The personal interview was the worst.

"What is your reaction to what happened on Akuze?"

"Akuze?" Shepard asked, confused.

"Your unit was completely wiped out."

"No, that's not possible. My unit was headed to Torfan." Shepard said with a forced smile. From the sidelong glances from the politicians, she knew. There had been information withheld.

"Corporal Toombs was the last reported survivor. They didn't find his remains."

Shepard shook her head defiantly, "No..." Someone would have told her. Someone would have notified her. She would have known. Surely...

One the politicians shook the camera away from her while another waved off the reporter. Shepard could feel herself seething, but she waited patiently. An explanation was silently demanded.

One did not come. So many things were amiss about it all, she was afraid to ask. It probably wasn't worth finding out. There were things soldiers weren't meant to know. She intended to keep it that way.

Shepard held onto the firm belief that vacation was bad for you. And it was, for a lifer like her, they were. Vacations were unnecessary when you loved your job.