Title: Virmire Part Six
Author: DinkyMew
Game: Mass Effect One
Disclaimer: Bioware own all content and characters related to the Mass Effect universe. The character of Abigail Shepard is my own creation inspired by the character of Jane Shepard created by Bioware. Any original characters contained herein are my own creation and are not necessarily affiliated with Bioware. You may not replicate; copy or use any of the fiction contained herein without my expressed permission beforehand.
Characters Featured: Kaidan Alenko (M); Abigail Shepard (F); Captain David Anderson (M); Stewart 'Spooner' Cooper (M)
Commander Shepard yanked the sleeve of her jacket on, frantically pulling her hair into a scrunchy as she moved hurriedly through the docking bay at C-sec headquarters. She tripped, stumbling a little as she pulled the zipper up to her throat, hiding her grubby, marked strap-top from last night under the clean, formal black of Kaidan's Alliance Academy hooded top. She silently hoped he wouldn't be angry at her for just taking it off the back of his door.
Her shoulder ached mournfully and she shook her head as she rounded the corner, past two c-sec officers standing to attention and the Normandy loomed into view, still in her docking cradle. What the hell had she been thinking? It wasn't bad enough she had went and got a tattoo but she had actually killed a mercenary in cold blood and caused a riot in the lower wards that this morning was plastered over the extranet. And worse than all of that combined she had woken this morning somehow sprawled out on a sofa with her head in Kaidan's lap.
Awkward.
No, awkward wasn't the word. Bloody mortifying was more like it.
Rubbing her panda eyes away she paused in the clean room, waiting patiently for the laser scanners to identify her and sanitise her simultaneously. The electronic voice of the scanner sounded as loud as a drum against her ears as she squinted at the doors, a headache thrumming at her temples.
The doors slid open and she stepped inside the hull, immediately glancing left and right to see who was aboard. She had given the crew shore leave to the afternoon and it appeared most of them were taking the opportunity to be off the ship, only a few CIC officers mingled around consoles, and even then they seemed to be chatting rather than working.
She passed them by, heading for her cabin, eager to get into the shower and scrape last night from her mind.
"Shepard!" The voice made her freeze; momentarily panicking as she smoothed her hair gently and turned to see Captain Anderson making his way down from the cockpit. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of the hooded jacket suddenly feeling like a teenager again. He gave her a warm smile, glancing behind him at the crew on board, probably trying to judge whether he could be informal with her or whether he had to maintain that stoic figure of authority.
"Did you get the wave about Virmire?" He asked. Stoic figure of authority it is then, she thought with a small smile. She was incredibly fond of Captain Anderson; for all intents and purposes he was her father – she had known him long enough to consider him such anyway and few other people took as avid an interest in her general wellbeing as he did.
"I did." She said, nodding brightly – maybe too brightly because he frowned, giving her that old once over he used to when she would come trailing in at god's hour in the morning having been out all night "I gave the crew the night off so when they get back this afternoon we'll be heading straight there."
He brought his eyes back to hers, suspicion readily apparent in their black depths as he nodded slowly. "The Council are keeping us out of the loop on this one; I would appreciate regular reports."
"Absolutely." She said without hesitation, she may be a Council Spectre but she was an Alliance soldier first and foremost. "Any further forward with Saren and the Geth?"
Anderson looked away at that shaking his head "No. Until we have more evidence of an imminent threat the Council are reluctant to budge. I'll keep trying though." For a moment he looked as though he was going to say more to her; those eyes skirting her dress once more before he cleared his throat and added "Head to Virmire then, we'll talk on a more personal note when you get back."
"Yes sir." She said, watching him as he turned sharply exiting the Normandy in quick strides just as Joker limped through. He paused, saluting the Captain awkwardly before shuffling out of his way and when his eyes met Shepard's he wore the most ridiculous grin she had ever seen. Groaning she turned her back on him, heading to her cabin.
The pistol is large in my hands, chunky and I can barely get my finger around the butt to fire the trigger. Nevertheless I hold onto it as I clamber inside the ducts, my hand on the rung slips and I fall the remainder, landing painfully inside the shaft on my ankle. I cry out, the noise immediately swallowed by the wail of the alarm and I clamp my hand over the stabbing pain, the pistol dropping to the grating with a clunk.
I grind my teeth, blocking out the pain as I crush myself back against the wall. He's dead – I just know he is, and soon whoever is attacking the ship is going to make their way inside, they're going to find me and I'm going to be forced to fight. I have to be ready to fight.
Or to die.
I press my forehead to the barrel of the pistol, my hands trembling so hard I have to fight to keep it steady. My ankle throbs angrily, but it is not broken, I can still roll my foot albeit painfully. Beyond the duct blinks red then black, red then black and I watch the hatch, so intent I imagine the handle turning enough I have to blink and refocus my sight on it.
Tears spill from my eyes mindlessly, as light as rain on my skin they burn tracks that are well rehearsed. The enclosed space takes me back to Mindoir, the smell of smoke and death surrounding me as though it had been lingering all along, simply waiting for memory to release its vile clamour. I can almost hear my mother's strangled scream beyond – the sound of thundering boots and angry, incomprehensible orders.
The blood presses at the edge of my head, pounding in my temples as I stare at the hatch, unwavering. The wail ceases suddenly and I am plunged into the murky depths of darkness, I hear heavy footsteps above – the sound of shouting and I know my discovery is imminent. Every Alliance vessel has a roster list and I am now placed upon it – in the hands of attackers it is as good as a checklist.
Above me I hear the hatch screech as the handle is turned to its point, slowly I steady the pistol, aiming carefully, balancing the butt of the gun on my knees. The hatch pulls upwards, a shaft of light cutting into the blackness and I squint as I press my finger on the trigger – a round fires; the kickback jarring my knee as the bullet ricochets off of metal, finding no purchase as it bounces somewhere useless.
"What the hell?!" A voice shouts; a voice I recognise, I drop the gun in fright more than anything else and stare unbelieving as a silhouette covers the entryway. "Skipper? Do you have a gun down there?!"
Before I can answer he thrusts a hand toward me, gloved and clad in armour but I grip it nonetheless like it's a saviour. He lifts me easily from the vent without me even having to put a foot on the ladder, with one arm he sets me back inside the shuttle bay beside him his expression unreadable as he seals the hatch once more. Pressing an earpiece inside his helmet he sighs.
"That should be the blockage cleared Artie?"
A response crackles in his ear, but I cannot hear it from where I stand, still shaking my bladder dangerously close to bursting. With a smooth motion he removes his helmet back to front, setting it down on the metal counter where parts for guns lay strewn. He takes a breath, wedging himself onto the edge of that table and dropping his chin into the chest of his armour.
"Skipper…" He breathes "You do realise that if I had not asked them to hold take off you would have been incinerated inside that vent shaft?" His chest is heaving as he pants, catching his breath "I realised you were missing just in time… what were you doing down there?"
"I…" I make to tell him, but he's alive and here in front of me so suddenly the truth seems very silly out in the light. "I was hiding." I admit, my stomach flip flopping as the ship touched into the planet's atmosphere.
"Hiding from what?" He asks me, undoing the clips and straps that hold his body armour to him.
"Whoever was attacking the ship." I say, mildly defensive.
He chuckles, removing the armour and setting it aside as he rolls his great shoulders, testing the flex in his arms. "No one was attacking the ship." He says calmly "The sensors picked up an attack – but these old sensors can't tell if it's an attack or a bird landing and pecking the hull; turns out it was monkeys."
"Monkeys?" I ask, disbelieving.
"Monkeys." Spooner nodded, they had been tampering with some parts of the hull where the structure was weakened, and the sensors pinged it as an attack."
I don't know what to say to that so I simply nod slowly, the adrenaline still coursing through me despite knowing I am safe. I look to him and he is still watching me, dressed now in his white tank top, the claw of that wolf tattoo just visible as it grips the rise of his shoulder. He looks as though he wants to say more so I shake me head at him a little, as if to say 'what?' and he takes a deep breath.
"You know… we can't have you running off like that every time you think the ship is under attack." He says gravely and I look to the floor ashamed. "When the shit hits the fan we need everyone on board to step up and fight."
I don't know what he wants me to say so I stay silent, looking at the floor sullenly and wishing I could sink through the grating back into the vents. Lifting his heavy armour he carries it to his locker, his brow furrowed in thought. I grasp at anything to say to him, mostly because I am terrified he is disappointed in me, that I have let him down somehow.
"I know." I say, following him, wishing I had the guts to reach out and grab him like they do in those old movies – but hands stay by my sides pumping in and out of fists as I watch his back "I just… I get scared." I blurt angrily "I've never had to fight before… I'm just a girl – the most I ever did was slap a boy for getting fresh."
"I figured." Spooner chuckles "You shoot for shit." He gives me a wide grin, and despite the anger I felt a moment ago I smile back, Spooner has that effect on me. "That is something we will have to remedy though." He says seriously "Especially if you plan on enlisting when you turn eighteen."
I look at him carefully "You would teach me?" I ask him, my heart leaping to my throat at the though of us getting close and sweaty as we train.
"Well." He gives me that lopsided smile, the one that makes my heart feel like it's teetering on failure "Somebody has to."
Her cabin seemed incredibly dull and lifeless compared to the vibrancy of Kaidan's apartment this morning; the Citadel took great pains to mimic day and night in the Stanford Torus presidium design. How Kaidan managed to upkeep such a place she could only guess. She knew his parents were military, but something told her he had held back exactly where they were positioned before they had retired – certainly they obviously didn't lack credits.
Raking her hair back she let the shower wash off the events of last night, finding she had to scrub extra hard to get the face of that Batarian from her mind. She hated herself a little for those events; for losing it – after so long bringing herself to terms with Mindoir she let it overwhelm her again. She blamed that box and those damned belongings, and that damned Spooner – his memory bringing back fresh pain as she turned the taps off and stood dripping in her shower staring at the tiles.
All this time she had thought he had simply forgotten about her; all this time she had assumed free of the nuisance of her immediate presence he had busied himself with work and decided to simply put her behind him. She didn't know what to think now.
Towelling herself briskly she slipped into her 'downs' consisting of a heavy pair of navy jogging bottoms and a white racer-back top over which she adorned a thick cable-knit cream cardigan that dropped almost to her knees. One of the few things she had kept from previous men in her life – this particular item from a man she had dated called Hobbs.
Twisting her hair she held it in place with a spider-clip, dumping her wet towels and dirty clothes in the laundry chute just inside the bathroom door. In a smooth motion she collected the box of belongings from her desk and hopped onto her bed, tucking her feet under her knees as she emptied it out in front of her – the papers and books slipping and sliding this way and that as she rummaged through the stuff.
It was all junk really, mission briefs, things that had been dug out of his locker obviously. A spare Lieutenant patch that he had never got round to sewing on his shirt, a few rounds for an old gun, bits of paper with little notes jotted on them. She picked up his journal, the book almost falling to bits in her hands if not for the elastic band holding it securely.
Unsnapping the band she cracked the front page open, glancing over the numbers within – addresses and names of people she didn't know. The rest of the pages were full of battle tactics, ideas for modding weapons and armour, a few general notes here and there – a shopping list. On one page was a list of Christmas gifts he had planned to buy for her, the address of the Blue Horizon Facility underlined beside it.
She fanned the empty pages, an OSD slipping from inside to spiral to the duvet silently. She lifted the little disk, her brow furrowing as she turned it in her fingers. Leaning to the side she pulled her player to her, inserting the OSD and pushing the button as Spooner's image flicked on the tiny screen. He looked just as she remembered him; that shock of white-blonde hair, his vibrant green eyes full of warmth and kindness
"Hey Skipper!" He grinned at the screen, the familiarity of the moment hitting her like a hammer to her gut "I know you're probably still angry at me for dropping you off with the Alliance, but I like to think you are at least starting to come around…"
She had seen this – this was the message he had sent to her a week after she had arrived at the facility. Skipping to the next she could see it was the second and final message she had received from him, but there was one more stored on the OSD. Carefully she pressed the button to skip to that last message.
"Hey Skipper!" He smiled, but it was weaker somehow; less bright "So, four weeks and still no reply from you. I'm guessing that means you are pretty damn angry still." He turned looking off to the distance somewhere, but she felt like she was right there with him, when his adams apple bounced she felt she could hear him swallow. He looked back to the screen, raking a hand through his blonde hair.
"The Admiral gave me admission papers today." He said thickly "Signing over my guardianship of you to the Alliance." He cleared his throat stickily "I… I think I'm gonna wait signing them, I want to come and see you – after this mission, I'm coming straight to the facility to talk about it with you; see if there is some way we can sort something out." He sighed, pressing his chin onto his closed fists as he looked to the floor briefly – back to the screen "I miss you Skipper."
Just as he spoke the words she could see the alarm go off in the background, the red light superseding that piercing wail as he frowned, glancing over his shoulder. He turned back to the screen, reaching above the camera he pulled back his helmet.
"I'll be back shortly." He said, and then the screen went blank. Shepard held the little console as though it were a connection to the afterlife, staring at the blank screen willing him to reappear. She had been so young and stupid, she had never realised the true gift of what Spooner represented.
With a heavy sigh she flopped onto the bed, curling around the console as she fought back tears. She wished she had replied, even once, to tell him how much she loved him. How much she had needed him by her side – but after the incident she had been too ashamed and angry to even muster a reply to his mails. She had been too bitter and resentful about the whole thing.
Beside her bed the intercom crackled quietly.
"Commander, all crew is now aboard we are preparing for mission briefing." Joker's voice said and she closed her eyes, how she was going to look any of them in the eye this morning was anyone's guess; especially Kaidan.
"I'm on my way up." She said quietly, pushing herself to sit. It was time to face the music.
Halfway to Virmire and he still hadn't laid eyes on her – not that he was in any rush, she was obviously avoiding him and that was cool; he could imagine she was a little embarrassed about getting drunk last night. It still didn't help the fact that he felt like he was simply sitting waiting to be in her presence though.
Lovesick his mother had called it and he thought how appropriate that phrase was as he tinkered with the settings at the engineering console. So in love it actually makes you feel sick; like some kind of plant, starved of light and water when out with her presence only to blossom and flourish and ache when she came into the room.
Sighing he rubbed the back of his neck, blowing a breath through his teeth as he thought about last night; about how close she had been, the tender breath of her lips on his before Joker had made himself known. Bloody Joker, every single time.
"Kaidan." Her husky voice sounded and he immediately stopped what he was doing, turning to sharply his knee caught the edge of the console unit and he grit his teeth, internalising that stab of pain with a smile and forcing his hands to stay where they were instead of rushing to rub at his aches.
"Commander." He said lightly, giving her a small smile, but she either didn't notice or didn't want to return it, because she looked at him stonily, her blue eyes cold and hard as she moved in close to his side. Almost too close to be considered professional, but her demeanour was anything but.
"I need to talk to you." She said quietly and he swallowed, her nearness making heat spark underneath his clothing, his skin rash into gooseflesh, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and hum.
"Alright." He said, turning back to the console idly "Do you mean about the mission or…?"
He was teasing her and they both knew it; he knew too well she wanted to talk about last night, but he wanted her to say it to him. He wanted to draw that woman out from under the Commander; see her come to life before he opened himself up.
"Actually about these." She said dismissively, producing a fistful of OSD's from her pocket "I… I was given these from an old friend. Most say they are damaged but I was hoping that with your expertise…"
"I could get the information from them for you?" He asked, surprised by the topic but nevertheless flattered she had obviously come to him first.
"Well." She swallowed, her pride furrowing her brow as she shook her head "If you don't want to, or… you know… I can look for someone on the Citadel."
"No." He said calmly, ignoring the flare of anger in her "I'll take a look at them Shepard. It's no problem."
She made a noise through her nose, setting the OSD's in his hands and watching as he pushed them into the pockets of his combats. She hovered, as if wanting to say more and he busied himself, trying to ease the ache of anticipation that burned brightly in his chest.
"Thanks." She ground out at last, and the reluctance in her voice made him smile. She made to go and he caught her elbow as she turned, met once again with that hard, cold look in her eyes as he removed his fingers from her softly.
"Can we talk about last night?" He asked gently, glancing around to make sure they were alone.
"What about last night?" She asked hotly, almost daring him to question her. He licked his lips, leaning his head to the side as he considered his next move in this silent game.
"Well…" He moved his shoulders "I just wanted to talk Shepard, about our kiss."
She shrank back from him, pulling out of that intimate zone as she cleared her throat loudly "Yeah." She coughed, fidgeting nervously as she came around the console unit, facing him on the other side "I don't think we should talk about it." She said with finality "It was a silly mistake Kaidan, one that neither of us should be dwelling on." She smiled "I mean you don't want to get involved with your Commanding Officer do you? There are regulations in the Alliance, you want to flout them?" She asked him, her voice rising in accusation.
"No ma'am." He said defeated, his heart lumbering in his chest as it struggled with the sudden lance of pain he felt. "You're right." He added, as if to solidify his innocence, but the very words killed him
"It was nothing."