If someone were to ask Shepard years ago what her last thoughts would be before she died, they probably would have been far from a blue-eyed turian.
The woman had spent majority of her life focusing on missions, tasks at hand. As part of the Alliance Navy and eventually the N7 program, few things were expected of her beyond making sure the mission was complete. And Shepard was a peak-performance soldier. She maintained awareness of her body at all times, preparing for anything at any moment. Hell, at one point in time, she knew exactly how many ounces of water she needed to feel fully hydrated after training sessions. Calorie-intake, blood sugar levels, constant pulse checking, and her own testing of her adrenaline became routine. Some of her fellow soldiers considered her amount of focus and diligence crazy, even for biotic standards, but Shepard threw herself whole-heartedly into maintaining her body.
Focusing on her physical form left little room to concern herself about her mental and emotional states, after all. She was fully aware that the events of Mindoir had left her flawed … damaged. This was apparent the moment she regained consciousness on an Alliance recovery ship. Out of all the people that lived in her colony, less than 25 were recovered alive. The rest were either dead among the rubble or missing, likely taken on to slaver ships to be sold in other parts of the universe.
The then 16-year-old had difficulty recalling everything that happened; brief moments of memory were all that came to her: her father pressing the pistol into her hand, telling her to run, her little brother, Dame, stumbling to the ground in front of her as an intense heat burned through her left shoulder, throwing her off balance … Dame screaming as a hard boot struck her head. After that, she remembered nothing until she was huddled in the back corner of a storage warehouse, charred and smoking remains all but crumbling around her. Her right hand flared with angry welts and blisters on sensitive red skin; the heat from the clip of the gun had burned her. She could only assume that she had grabbed the top of the gun shortly after its last shots were fired, using the gun itself as a weapon.
Monsters were fighting to reach her. Those monsters that took her family and friends away clawed to reach her. Panic took over her body, and she felt a huge surge of energy erupt from her. Apparently, Shepard had launched a massive biotic pulse toward the front of the warehouse before dropping to the ground, unconscious. Her supposed attackers were Alliance soldiers who were finally able to reach the colony. They had been searching for survivors when they saw her half-dragging herself into the warehouse. It was her first-ever display of biotic abilities, but she managed to knock back four soldiers, and render two unconscious. According to the Alliance ship's commanding officer (Shepard never bothered to remember her name), it was a remarkable feat for someone without any sort of implants.
The girl was put through some psychological testing after the initial questioning. It was for her "safety," to make certain that she didn't "need extra help." Shepard was young, but she was no idiot. Despite everything that happened on Mindoir, losing everything and everyone she had known, she knew that being labeled as "mentally unfit" would be more damaging than anything. She had to be considered stable, for her own sake. Because she would never admit out loud how out of control she felt. When in doubt, fake it. Her father's joking advice was actually quite useful here. The questions were answered with a calm demeanor. She even risked a few jokes once in a while. By the time the ship had reached Earth, she was cleared.
It took some time, but she was able to find her aunt Estella, her father's sister, in New York. While she lived with her aunt, she worked to complete her schoolwork on her own accord. Thankfully, Estella never pushed her to go back into public school. Shepard also took the time to look into the Alliance military, joining impromptu training sessions under various lieutenants. At 17, the young woman was encouraged to get fitted with L3 implants to help her with the underdeveloped, yet powerful biotics that had come to light. Estella wished she wouldn't, but it came as no shock that Shepard officially signed on to join the Alliance Navy a year later. In the military, she was able to forget everything else, and she would use that to her advantage.
Even in the barracks, Shepard spent a vast majority of her time alone, throwing her energy into her studies of biotics and advanced rifle and pistol usage. Testing of this knowledge showed she was perfect for the vanguard class of the military. Confidence was something she didn't lack when holding face, but alone, in her own mind, she was hardly able to construct the idea. Losing her friends and family stunted Shepard's desire to get close to anyone. Joking with the other soldiers, backing up everyone in missions, and focusing on tasks with little to no injuries made her quickly noticed by the Alliance, but, at the end of the day, no one was able to tell a story about Shepard's personal life.
Fraternization was a normal happening in the military. Even officers of rank knew of its happening, though it was an unspoken rule that as long as it did not interfere with training or missions, it was acceptable. It was common for soldiers to come back from shore leave with tales of blurred bar scenes, a little too much liquor, and a tumble into someone's bed. Jabs at the accused were handed out liberally, but everyone knew it was to relieve stress, and to, well, just have fun. Shepard's shore leave was usually spent wandering the Citadel, or wherever they had landed, looking at every store, quietly observing life as it went by around her.
The best way to describe her methods to someone: it was like watching a vid, or reading a datapad. You were there, you participated to some degree, but you were never really a part of anything happening. And that was how she liked it. Her own life was unimportant, save for doing all she could to defend those that needed it. Several soldiers joked that she was a goody-two shoes, but she had a feeling their opinions of her would change if they really knew her.
Despite all of that, the woman felt somewhat obligated to take some part in the shore leave adventures of the rest of the crew. When in doubt, fake it. She went to the cheap rental rooms, allowing herself to be fretted over by her fellow woman soldiers. They would giggle excitedly at the idea of getting Shepard dressed up. Bars and clubs were their main outings, and more than once she was asked to dance, either by civilians or other Alliance. Rarer still, when she was ready to pretend that she was all right, that she could be normal and carefree, that she wasn't broken, Shepard would find herself in the dark corners of the club, feeling her mind wander as her body reacted instinctually to a man's advances. In the quarters, several crew members would bring up the man she left with, if she intended to see him again. The answer was always the same: maybe. She never saw those men again.