Chapter 2: SSV Waterloo

Because I remember, I despair. Because I remember, I have the duty to reject despair. -Elie Wiesel

The four privates huddled around the gambling table in the mess hall as they discussed the latest scuttlebutt.

"So, any of you fellas catch the name of our new XO?" Chris Riviera asked in his typical, drawn out speech. His long black hair hid most of his face, but the colored beads he wore when off the field revealed his Native American heritage.

Jeff Dikeman, a fairly short, red headed German with a thick accent, peered at his counterpart over the top of his cards, but feinted disinterest. Chris was always linked to the newest gossip, and a cocky grin betrayed Chris' extensive knowledge on the subject.

Unlike Jeff, Albert Singleman was new to the crew, and took the bait. "Only bits and pieces. A guy named Shepard, right?" Albert's baby blue eyes where excited, though that was to be expected. This was his first tour of duty after all.

Jeff shared a glance with the final member of the little gang, Elizabeth Riviera. Her eyes showing mild irritation at her twin brother's antics. "Oh do enlighten us Chris, we're all dying to know." Elizabeth quipped, her full lips curved into a sneer, but her brown eyes held equal parts fire and amusement.

Chris spared a searing glance at his twin sister before letting his head roll back towards Albert. "Ignore her. She's the stupid one in the family." If looks could kill, Elizabeth would be short one sibling. "Anyway, get this, he can't feel emotions. I mean can you guys imagine that? Doesn't even care about the lives of his soldiers, and we've been assigned to his squad."

Jeff through his cards down in disgust as he totaled 24. Elizabeth grinned wickedly as she relieved him of thirty more credits. Jeff sighed, and refused to be dealt in, favoring to nurse a tin cup of contraband. "I think you've been watching too many sci-fy vids Chris. Though I did hear he is a talented biotic. Rumored to be the strongest biotic in human history."

Albert nodded excitedly as he scooped up his new hand. "I heard he is as strong as some of those Asari. It'll be nice to have some biotic support on the team. I'm only an L3, and can't spike as high as some of the older L2's." As if to prove his point, Albert biotically levitated a cup of contraband to his outstretched hand.

Jeff's hand unconsciously lowered the the sidearm strapped to his hip by a rudimentary leather belt at the slight biotic display. He didn't have anything against Albert, and he had met plenty of decent people that were biotics, but he couldn't help the images of his parents being killed in an accident caused by one of the first L2 biotics.

Chris leaned back in his seat with a self-satisfied smirk smeared across his face. "Even I've gotta say, I don't think there's any way he can be as powerful as an Asari. Elizabeth and I saw one on our last tour of duty, a commando I think."

Elizabeth studied her cards intently and confirmed Chris' story with a nod, never looking up from her hand. "Took a terrorists car right out of the sky, without even touching it. Just held out her arm and, Bam! Damn impressive."

Chris continued to smirk, and seemed about to comment further when the door at the far end of the room opened. Chris didn't turn around as he had been expecting another player to join them when his shift was up. "Hey Miguel, get your ass over here, only got half a bottle of the good stuff left. You nearly missed out."

Chris frowned as he was met only with silence, and the other three at the table sat ramrod straight, and the blood quickly drained from their faces. "What? What is it?" Chris asked no one in particular.

Finally, he turned around, and found himself staring at an unfamiliar man. He was tall, about six two or so, and his large frame was suited in an officers uniform with an N5 Medal sewed on over his heart, as well as a staff sergeant's double arrows on his left shoulder. The man's arms were crossed in front of his chest expectantly, though his face was unreadable. Even his eyes were completely unanimated save for a single raised eyebrow.

"Uhh, Sergeant, uh sir I uh" Chris stammered, his quick tongue failing him. The newcomer stared him down with unmoving ice blue eyes, a ghost of amusement passed across his face for a moment at the other man's discomfort for a moment before he nodded.

"At ease private, I'm the new XO, though if your conversation is any indication, you already knew that. Perhaps I should inform you, the regs clearly state that no alcoholic beverage is to be drunken on an Alliance ship, even if your off duty." Shepard maintained a perfect stance, and his voice mimicked the voice every drill instructor comes to adopt. Low, dangerous, and absolute.

"Sir!" All four of the uncomfortable privates said, and saluted in unison.

A devious smirk fell across the sergeants face as his hands finally dropped to his sides casually. "Perhaps you can make it up." He said as he walked up to the table unbidden, and sat down with his arms folded on the table expectantly. "So, whose dealing?" The smirk slowly shifted to a full blown smile as incredulous looks were passed between the privates.

Another half an hour where spent dealing cards, though Shepard had refused to partake in drinking any of the alcohol, and the privates had silently agreed not to drink it in front of the new XO. Gambling was often frowned upon, but unlike drinking, it wasn't in direct violation of the regs. They were just glad Shepard wasn't a stickler for the rules like so many new officers.

Shepard rolled his neck, and was rewarded with an obnoxious pop. Albert, who had drunk the most, giggled and blinked at Shepard with unfocused eyes. "Sergeant," he slurred "I'm gonna hit the rack."

Shepard nodded, and stood up with the rest of his new squad. Shepard plastered a wide grin on his face at Elizabeth, who had an unnatural aptitude at cards. "I'll remember this Private Rivera, just wait until you get mess duty for a month." he joked

"Is that so?" She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Well, it was well worth it to clear you outta credits. Sir." She added as an afterthought.

Shepard said nothing, but kept his mirthful smile firmly in place. The twins spearheaded the retreat back to the bunks, while Jeff hovered by Albert in case he needed support.

After far too long, the doors on the opposite side of the mess hall swished shut behind them. His smile disappeared in an instant, and he massaged his tired jaw muscles. After two years of having to fake his emotions, and putting on a mask for each situation, one would think his muscles would get used to it.

Shrugging, Shepard turned on his heels crisply, and marched out of the mess with all the dignity of an Alliance Admiral. It was fairly late, so he doubted he would see anyone. The crew on night shift would probably stay in the CIC, cockpit, and engineering, giving him plenty of time to unpack. Shepard stopped in front of a door, and looked at the information on his omni-tool: XO Quarters are located on floor 3 room E2. Shepard looked up, and sure enough, an orange holographic E2 hovered above the doorway. He'd have to remember to disable that later. All newly assigned rooms had a similar feature, but with his photographic memory, he wouldn't need assistance finding anything after he found it the first time.

Entering the room, Shepard absorbed every feature in an instant. The sleeping pod- special ordered by Shepard, who couldn't get to sleep without the multiracial sleeping gas- was slammed against the far right wall. A desk with a computer terminal and several neatly stacked, blank datapads sat in the middle of the room, giving the impression that this was indeed an XO's quarters. His weapons and armor had already been stowed in the armory, and a single duffel bag that had been brought to his room by the crew as soon as he had gone aboard.

Shepard walked to the foot of the pod, and opened the bag that held all of his personal belongings: an extra two sets of officers suit, two pairs of civilian clothes, and an officers sword as well as the knife he had received after completing Sarona's biotic training. Shepard willed his hand to caress the intricate sheath in a semblance of sentiment. A noise, somewhere between a growl and a sigh escaped his throat as he felt- nothing, just as he knew he would. Mentally shoving the knife away, Shepard pulled out his most coveted, and indulgent possession. It was a simple meditation mat, colored in the same dark blue as his biotics. It was a typical meditation map: firm, short, and cylindrical; about half a foot tall, and two feet in diameter.

He had acquired his first one soon after being rescued from Mindoir. The psychologists said he was feeling so much emotional pain, it was possible his body would simply block his emotions. To maintain a hold on his old life, he would sit on the mat for hours on end in a storm of biotic energy, until his body would give out, and he would be forced to eat and rest. Commander Anderson had been very understanding, and had helped him through the worst of it, for all the good it did in the end. He had used that old mat for only a few months before he was able to join the military. There he learned the strength of apathy, and how to turn it into a weapon, but it was a double edged sword. Even after two years, Shepard still only had two states of mind: apathetic, tactical, logical, or unthinking, mindless rage. His body could block emotions for a time, but eventually, they would need to be released. The first two times it had been in the form of a complete mental breakdown as he had tried to regain his emotions. When he joined the Alliance, he found he could hold off the release of his emotions by meditating the emotions out of himself, and turning himself into an empty warrior. Even with meditation though, he still had to release his emotions every two or three months. After having a breakdown in an intense training exercise during N1 training. After that he had found that he could change what emotions expressed themselves, and had began using his emotions as a weapon.

Shepard shook his head to clear it of his stray thoughts, and looked between the pod and his mat.

Just as he was about to begin his meditations, a VI interface materialized from a terminal on his desk. "Major Kyle is requesting to see you in the communications room."

Shepard nodded, though he knew the VI wouldn't respond back. He had met Kyle on a stage when Shepard had been transferred to his unit, but he didn't know much about the Major, except that he wasn't a fighter. That much was obvious even after a first encounter. "On my way."

Major Kyle stood on the bridge of his carrier, the SSV Plato. Carriers were not made to engage enemy ships, but rather, they were meant to deploy many one-manned fighters, and bombard enemy ships from a distance. It was the perfect ship for him, as Kyle himself was not a true military leader.

The FTL Communications lit up in a vibrant orange color, quickly morphing into the figure of his newest squad leader. "Sergeant Shepard, how are you settling into your new ship?"

Shepard cracked his feet together, and saluted the major seriously. "Good, sir."

When the major took a few seconds to solute back, Shepard decided that the major defiantly was not a military man. "At ease, Shepard."

Shepard let his hands glide behind his back carefully, and continued to stand tall. He was eternally grateful he hadn't had anything to drink when he had been gambling with his new squad. "What is this meeting concerning, sir?"

"Your new Captain, Wilmer, had offered to brief you, but I want to get to know the executive officers under my Captains' command." Kyler told him. Shepard nodded respectfully, and waited for him to continue. "In response to Batarian attack on Elysium, the Alliance has authorized a search-and-destroy operation for any remaining hostile Batarians near our colonies in the Traverse. I am coordinating between several units, including yours, and the Alliance Brass. Each unit will be composed of five squads, your job is to hit the target we give you, and mine their database for remaining Batarian outposts."

"Understood, Sir." Shepard observed as the Major's pixel eyes darted across his features, as if he wanted to say something more. "Is there anything else, Sir?"

A slight look of surprise flashed behind Kyle's eyes before a blank Commander mask slammed into place, blocking any more emotions from betraying him. "Indeed there is, Sergeant. A Volus trading caravan reported a large number of Batarian ships jumping through a mass relay to the Skylian Verge. We have ordered Captain Wilmer's unit to investigate. Your squad has been assigned to search the colony on Sidon. It was previously a top secrete research facility, but after the Blue Suns attacked, it was turned into a sizable trading outpost, and helps to supply several of out colonies in the Skylian Verge."

"Sir, yes sir. Sir, are we authorized to engage the enemy if we encounter the Batarians?" Shepard could feel a slight tingle at the front of his forehead. A sign he had long since associated to an oncoming release of his emotions. It would be good if he could take his aggression out on the enemy, rather than his new squad.

Kyle resisted the urge to cluck his tongue nervously as a cruel smile tugged at the corners of Shepard's mouth. "You are authorized to engage if you can confirm they have hostile motives. It would probably best if you can capture at least on of them alive the interrogate if possible." Kyle responded. "Good hunting Shepard." With a final salute, Kyle cut the transmission, and the communications room was momentarily plunged into darkness before the on board VI reactivated the lights.

Kyle rubbed his eyes tiredly as he headed back to his quarters. Shepard seemed like a dangerous individual sure, but he wasn't sure he was the right man for this job. Operation Two Eyes needed to be executed by someone with a level head. Not only did Shepard have a damn good reason to hate the Batarians for their attack on Mindoir, but his file showed he preferred to kill everything in his path. Often brutally. But the Alliance kept insisting that Shepard was just the man to spearhead the assault. Kyle just hopped Captain Wilmer could keep Shepard on a short leash, or the situation could quickly turn into a blood bath.

Shepard returned to his room, and sat on his mat in meditation. Particles of dark matter soon shimmered in the dim light, and several of the lighter object in the room began levitating. Shepard kept himself grounded by creating a gravitational biotic barrier around himself to resist his own biotic pull. Shepard began his nightly exercise of boiling and freezing the water molecules in the air. It was difficult to pinpoint the microscopic droplets of water and lend or steal the energy from them to make them hotter or colder. It was harder still to keep the nearby air molecules at a steady temperature to avoid killing himself. Shepard had discovered that it was a good way to practice his reave ability, as few organics seemed willing to let him suck the life energy out of their bodies.

As the biotic energy in the room continued to build, he couldn't help the smile of ecstasy that played across his face. The use of biotics and battle was the only thing that seemed to be able to stir his dead heart, and reave practice was especially powerful. Just the thought that if his barriers failed at any moment he could kill himself was captivating. And the promise of being able to use his biotics with out restraint was... exhilarating.

He had heard that Ardat Yakshi often felt the same way when they used biotics to kill, and being that he was trained by one, it made sense that he would feel the same way. Something stirred in him about the thought of Sarona's death, but his body refused to translating the short lived feeling into thought. He would not let the chance the avenge her death slip him by. He would make her proud, and the coming mission would no doubt prove to be an exceptional opportunity to embrace the 'demon of the night wind' within himself, as his fellow recruits had called him in boot camp.

Just a note to anyone confused about that last line, Ardat Yakshi translates as Demon of the Night Wind, and it seemed like a fitting nick name for Shepard.

If anyone recognizes the planet Sidona, it is from the book Mass Effect: Revelation. The book doesn't say what happened to the facility, but being that it was near one of the oldest human colonies (Elysium) and near Torfan in the skyllian Verge, it seemed appropriate. Anyway, please review. The more reviews I get the faster I can write the story. If anyone has suggestions for what they would like to see after Torfan (I will likely extend this story to include his N7 training) I would love to hear them.

For too long I've been parched of thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I've been starving to death and haven't died. I feel nothing. Not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea. Nor the warmth of a woman's flesh. -Barbarossa Pirates of the Caribbean