Past: 15 Years Post War
Shortly after Melara walked into the Junior Academy, she fell in love…and not just with the school.
When they had made the decision to allow non-humans into the Alliance, specialized programs had been put into place to accommodate alternate biology. Normally, a ten year old human walking in through these doors could look forward to walking out of them again as a graduate in seven years. Most graduates signed the required service paperwork before departing, leaving the Academy and heading right into boot camp and full enrollment.
It was different for those new students who were Earthlings by birth, but not human. Right now, at age ten, Melara looked and acted like a human would of the same age. Within about two years, however, that equal maturation rate would change. A human girl at seventeen was considered an adult. An asari at age seventeen more resembled a human at age twelve or thirteen. While humans progressed through puberty rapidly on the onset of changing hormones, the process actually slowed an asari's growth and maturity exponentially. Melara would not be the physical or mental equivalent of a human young adult until she was in her seventies or eighties.
So, instead of being crammed into seven short years, Melara's Junior Academy schedule had been changed to accommodate a sixty year curriculum. Some of the instructors that she would have on her first days here would be ready to retire or long gone by the time she received her graduation.
As she walked in the door, she was greeted by Lt. Burke and the other three non-humans entering the Academy for the first time.
The turian boy was called Tushar Wilson. His parents had served in the war, and had fought in London during V-Day. After the Reapers had fallen they were stranded on Earth – as were so many others- for weeks before the relays were fixed. They had gone to help at a refugee camp in Jamaica and by the time galaxy-wide travel was once again available, they had fallen in love with the area. With most of their families dead, they decided to stay and make a home there.
Shortly after Tushar was born five years later, his parents had separated. His mother had remained in love with Jamaica, but his father had become restless, wanting to return to Palaven and help rebuild their home world. Eventually, their desires had become a wedge, and they parted ways. She stayed in Jamaica with Tushar and his father returned to Palaven with his elder brother Nage.
His mother had remarried when Tushar was three, to a human man named Jared Wilson. For Tushar, Jamaica and Earth was the only home he knew, and he loved it. He was friendly, outgoing, far more laid back than many turians normally were. He was a bit of a clown, and played on the fact that most people found a Turian speaking English and Galactic with a Jamaican accent incredibly amusing.
He was, of course, still a turian, and respected his people's traditions. That he would someday enter the military was not in question, though he far preferred the idea of joining the Alliance than the Turian fleets.
The two other asari were Shialira Themolo and Bethayla S'Agar. Shialira (or, Yalira, as she preferred to be called), was cocky and self-important, even at ten. Her mother's bondmate was a wealthy human man who had escaped the brunt of the war completely unscathed…angry more at his financial losses and the near collapse of the galactic economy rather than the enormous damage and loss of life. Her mother was a young and naïve Asari maiden from an extremely well-to-do House, who had been a dancer on the Citadel when it had been taken by the Reapers. Never assertive, easily plied, it had taken little effort for the rich human to charm his way into her graces.
As Burke introduced her to Melara, Yalira had stood with folded arms, one brow lifted in smug and mild distaste as she looked Mel over. The other asari, Bethayla, just stood a few feet away, hands clasped together and seeming to fervently study a patch of flooring a few inches in front of her toes.
"Melara, this is Shialira Themolo and Bethayla S'Agar. Girls, this is Melara Shepard."
"We are not 'girls', Lt. Burke, we are…I am sorry?"
The more than famous name sank in almost visibly as Yalira was haughtily correcting the lieutenant for his natural faux pas. The smug expression on her face faded as she looked from him to Melara.
"Mel Shepard," Melara said, offering her hand. Yalira regarded her with wonder, ignoring the hand.
"Shepard. As in, the Hero of –"
"The Hero of Earth, the Savior of the Krogan, the Champion of the Citadel…yeah, that's her."
Bethalya looked up a little bit at Mel- just peeking really- while Yalira's face seemed to contort between an expression of wonder and one of disgust.
Finally, it settled on disgust and she snorted. "You forgot, she's the Butcher of Torfan, too."
Melara scowled, but Yalira was back to doing what she did best…looking down on others.
"And you took the name Shepard? I suppose your mother's House is too low tide for you to want to take its name…oh, that is right. That would be T'Soni would it not? I do not blame you one bit, then. I would also not claim the House of a treacherous puddle breather and her pureblood daughter-"
Melara had lived among other asari more than long enough to recognize the slurs. In one swoop, Yalira had insulted not only her mother and her grandmother, but the entire T'Soni line. To call a family 'low tide', or to name an individual as a 'puddle breather' was offensive enough, but the added pureblood slur against her mother was inexcusable.
Mel's hand clenched into a fist but before she could move, Burke intervened with a frown. "Cadet Themolo, that is enough! Blatant insults will not be tolerated in this Academy, and if you continue to repeat them we shall seriously have to reconsider your placement here, am I clear?"
Yalira looked surprised, then straightened. "My father has ties and paid a lot of credits to-"
"This is not a civilian organization, Cadet," Burke said sternly. "There are rules and you will obey them, am I understood? If you do not, then you can explain to your father why he spent those credits on your tuition and you simply threw them away instead of making full use of the opportunity before you. Now. This goes for all four of you. In these halls you are all Cadets. You are part of the same team and you will act like it. I have no problem explaining to every one of your parents why you have been expelled from this program, and none of the instructors here will have any difficulty doing that expelling, regardless of parentage, if you prove that it is necessary. Is that understood?"
There was a murmur of 'yes sir's from the four, and he nodded. "Good then, the matter is settled. Follow me and I will show you around campus before we begin the rest of orientation."
As they fell in behind him, Yalira gave Melara a pointed glare where Burke couldn't see. Hardly intimidated, Melara glared right back. Rolling her eyes, Yalira fell in line behind Burke…then suddenly tripped, slamming face down onto the floor. Mel blinked in surprise. From her position, she had noticed the momentary flare of biotic blue that had caught around Yalira's ankle, making her stumble.
Her eyes turned to Bethalya, who glanced back with a faint smirk, the thin blue glow around her fingers fading in an instant as Burke looked around.
"Are you all right?"
A much darker hue of blue on Yalira's cheeks displayed her embarrassment as she pushed herself up. "Yes, sir," she said. "I must have tripped."
She hadn't seen the biotics. As they started on their way again, Mel looked back at Bethalya, who gave her a quick wink.
Mel grinned.
Well into the afternoon, Yalira was doing her best to ignore the other three as much as she could. During their break out in the yard, she kept off to one side, practicing a little with her biotics. Mel, Tushar, and Bethalya remained in a small knot, able to talk together alone for the first time since they'd arrived.
"You're really Shepard's daughter?" Tushar asked right out of the gate, his accent making 'daughter' sound more like 'dottah'. "The real, actual Shepard?"
"Yes. She's my father."
"Astounding! Hey, I hear she had Garrus Vakarian on her crew during the war."
"Yeah, Uncle Garrus. They met just before she first became a Spectre."
His mandibles flapped happily. "Perfect! What a wonderful opportunity for me!"
Brows knit in confusion, she blinked at him. "What?"
"Well, your father had a turian sidekick, correct? Since you are undoubtedly destined for great things as well, then I would like to apply to be your turian sidekick! It will make your endeavors far more stylish, and a lot more amusing."
She snorted a laugh, and punched him lightly in the shoulder. He grinned and punched her back in the same spot.
Bethalya stood a foot or two away, not engaging but rather looking off into the distance as if something unendingly interesting were happening just at the distant tree line off campus. Mel looked at her, then cleared her throat.
"Hey, thanks for what you did," she said. "Tripping her, I mean. That was incredibly cool."
The other asari looked at her as if surprised she was being spoken to, before she smirked and shrugged. "It is not her fault, not really. She has been raised her whole life to think she is entitled to whatever she wants. She considers it her right to be important, and then you show up…having the father you do…well. How else can she compete with that?"
Mel stared at her. Bethalya didn't talk like most kids their age. She spoke more like an adult. "She doesn't need to compete with me. I can't control who my parents are, and that doesn't give her the right to call my family names."
"No, it does not," Bethalya agreed.
"Who are your parents?" Tushar asked.
Bethalya only shrugged and looked off into the distance again.
"You don't know who your parents are?" Mel asked sympathetically.
"I am an orphan," she said. "They were killed…somehow. I have never really asked about it. I was adopted before I could walk by a matron who lives on the Citadel. She thought it was important for me to have solid ground under my feet so when I was five she moved down here to Rio de Janeiro. Her name is Callita Tib'et."
"I am sorry," Mel said. She tried to imagine growing up without her parents there, being raised by a stranger, and felt a tightness in her chest. Bethalya looked at her oddly.
"Do not be…you did not kill them."
"No, but it is still sad."
"I suppose," she said. "Callita treats me well, like a mother. I am happy and I have friends, though I have not had an asari friend before…nor a turian one."
Tushar and Melara looked at each other, then Melara shrugged. "We'll be your friends."
Bethalya blinked at them as if she had not expected that, then grinned. Somehow that smile lit up the already sunny afternoon, and Melara felt herself grinning back. Bethalya might be a little bit strange, and her manner suggested she was a brain like Irie, but somehow Melara didn't mind in the least.
With a smile like that being turned her direction, how could she mind?
They were heading back inside when one of their instructors appeared, looking breathless. She rushed toward them.
"You three continue on to class. Melara Shepard, you must come with me immediately."
"What? Why?"
"Your father is here to collect you. Come along, quickly now."
As she was ushered forward, she glanced in confusion at the others. For a moment, her gaze met Bethalya's before she was herded away.
We still have two hours of class left. Bába shouldn't be here, she should be training with her new recruits.
She tried not to become alarmed, her stomach knotting a bit as they ran inside. The only reason her father would show up unexpectedly and pull her out of school would be because of an emergency. She thought back on Irie's recital and the fear tightened.
Is it Orthrus? Are they here?
Halfway down the main corridor she spotted Del heading her way. She was in a full hard-suit with weapons-pack, and flanked by several others wearing the same. Her face and her pads were smeared with dust, and her expression was that hard, no-nonsense face that Melara usually only saw if she was in trouble…or Shepard was worried.
Both Burke and the director of the Academy were also there, faces set in concern.
"Bába?" She broke away from her instructor's side and ran forward, Del crouching as she caught her up in a hug. "Bába, what is going on?"
"Are you ok, Mel?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. What's happening?"
"I need to get you home. Your mother and sister are waiting. I will explain when we're there."
From her tone, Melara knew not to argue. As Shepard straightened she took possessive hold of her daughter's hand, gripping it tightly. Melara stared at the other armored soldiers, realizing they were Del's training class.
"So long as I'm convinced it's safe, Mel will be back tomorrow," Shepard told Burke and the director. "Hackett will be sending a full security detail to campus in addition to the measures already in place. I know the chances of them even trying to assault this base are incredibly minimal but even the slimmest possibility is still possibility."
"We understand. We will dismiss classes early today just to be sure," the director agreed, his face grim.
They headed for the entrance of the school, Melara gripped Shepard's hand almost as tightly as her father was holding hers. As they got outside, she could see a waiting shuttle.
"A-are Mama and Irie ok?" she asked, trying to stay brave.
"They're fine, sweetheart. Mama and Irie are just fine."
"What's happened? Something has happened!"
Del lifted Melara into the shuttle, and placed her on a seat. As the others came aboard, Shepard crouched in front of her, meeting her eyes.
"Yes, something has happened," she said softly, seriously. "Those mercs that raided Irie's recital went to Rannoch. Aunt Tali was taken."
Melara stiffened, her dark brown eyes going wide. "I-Is she-?"
"She's alive, baby. As far as we know, she's alive. They didn't want to kill her, or they'd have done it."
"Wh-what about Deefa and Uncle Baron? Did they take them too?"
"Deefa is all right," Shepard told her. "She wasn't hurt. Uncle Baron got a bit banged up and had to be taken to the medics but he's going to be just fine, ok?"
Melara nodded, tears swimming in her eyes. Instead of crying, however, she became serious, her eyes holding far more stone than Del had ever wished to see.
"You'll get her back, won't you." It wasn't a question. "You'll get Aunt Tali back and make them pay for taking her, for hurting Uncle Baron."
Del's gaze was just as serious. "Yes, I will, Mel. You better believe I will."
Hands planted on the edge of the console, Shepard's dark eyes reflecting the tiny holographic image of herself from many years ago.
"They sent you this?" she asked.
"No," Liara replied. "It was embedded on Tali's home computer. After I received news of the raid, I scanned it. This was planted deliberately to remain hidden from others but to make it easy for me to find. No other message or communication from her kidnappers has been discovered."
"No others will. This was all the 'ransom note' they needed. They wanted to make a name very clear. Donovan Hock."
The picture had been taken by Joker, moments before a dressed-up Shepard had accompanied Kasumi Goto to Donovan Hock's party in order to steal back her dead love's grey box. Del remembered the mission all too clearly, and not just because she'd been forced to kiss that scaly son of a bitch in order to maintain her cover. Kasumi had saved her life that night, by flipping the safety on Hock's gun while it was pressed to Del's head.
They had been fast friends ever since…a friendship that would sadly end far too soon, cut short when Kasumi died on Cronos station in an act that, once again, had saved Del's life.
She pushed away the memory that it had been Eír that had killed her.
"Yes, I made that conclusion as well," Liara said. "I immediately started to search for anything and everything that I could find regarding Hock, and I think I found our answer."
Del straightened as Liara pulled up some files. "Upon Hock's death, most of his assets were split up among his various associates and underlings. What remained of his private collection in his vault was piecemealed and smuggled to various locations throughout the galaxy, if not sold outright to other black market collectors. However, it seems that while Mr. Hock had no formal will, the majority of his previous holdings ended up consolidated again under one organization. Most of his sold collection also ended up converging back under a one collector. It is my belief that this was the plan from the beginning, that this one entity wished it to appear that Hock's empire had splintered in a thousand different directions when in reality, there was only one ultimate destination."
She drew up a picture of a human man. Shepard blinked as she stared at it. "That's Donovan Hock!"
"No, it is his son, Kenneth Vasquez. His mother estranged from Hock when he was a teenager, and he retained her maiden name. Mr. Vasquez not only consolidated more than ninety percent of his father's holdings after his death, he has since grown his assets exponentially further than his father ever did. I managed to get into his secure bank accounts, and not only does he have enough credits to fund his own private merc army…several transactions over the last ten years suggest that he is doing exactly that. I believe we have found the controlling power behind Orthrus."
Del's look darkened thoughtfully. Tali gone, a message that only an incredibly high ranking information broker could find left on her computer- a single image of Del taken just before the raid on his father's house which had resulted in Hock's death. Either Kenneth Vasquez was the commanding force behind Orthrus…or someone was very desperate to frame him as such.
"Do we have a contact for Vasquez?" she asked.
"I already have Glyph searching for a contact that does not go through a dozen agents or dummy fronts. I should have his direct, private number in a matter of moments."
"Good," Shepard said, eyes stone. "I wanna talk to the bastard."
Lane and the other N1s lingered awkwardly in the living area of the Shepard-T'Soni home. Still geared up for combat and more than a little dirty, they avoided sitting down on the furniture and tried not to touch anything.
Shepard had not dismissed them yet, though she hadn't been very forthcoming about the nature of the emergency her wife had called in. Wondering on one hand if this was some kind of test, part of their training- and worried that it was, in fact, not- Lane let her eyes wander around the room before she realized they were being stared at.
Shepard's two daughters haunted the door between the living space and the back hall, looking at them. The older appeared as if she had been crying, though her cheeks were now dry. The younger- the one they had picked up from the Academy- was still in her cadet's uniform. Catching her eye, Lane smiled at her.
Cocking her head, the younger asari walked over. Though she couldn't have been over ten years of age, she was very nearly of a height with the little marine. Her eyes were a dark brown, almost a perfect match for Shepard's. Her skin tone was much darker than her mother's and sister's as well, a deep purple rather than blue.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Corporal Anne Lane," she replied. "Your name is Melara?"
"Yes, ma'am. Bába is training you…all of you, right?" She had drawn the attention of the others, and they had clustered around.
"That's right, kiddo," Singleton told her. "Maybe someday, if we're lucky, we'll be half the soldier that Shepard is."
The older asari daughter came forward as well. She was paler in color, much closer to her mother's shade. Her eyes- a stormy violet- seemed to have gone more gray with her emotion. Her voice was solemn as she spoke.
"Have you ever killed anyone?" she asked. Bax laughed a bit.
"We're marines. Comes with the job."
Lane glared at him, then looked at the older girl. "Yes, unfortunately. I think we all have."
"Good," was the unexpected reply. "Then you won't hesitate."
Knitting her brow, Singleton exchanged looks with the others before asking, "Why do you say that?"
"Because some people have taken our Aunt Tali," she said calmly. "And Bába is going to get her back. Most likely, she is going to bring you along. I just wanted to be sure you had killed before, so when you meet those…those bastards..."
She gasped briefly, as if surprised such a harsh word had come out of her mouth, then steeled herself before continuing.
"…you won't hesitate. You won't hesitate before you take them apart. Because that's exactly what Bába is going to do." She lifted her chin defiantly. "She is going to take them apart."