Three hours ago, Mali had been shown to a small room underground by her two guards. She had asked about the curious accommodations but had only received a few annoyed grunts and a shove down the hall. As they had pushed her through the door a minute later one guard finally spoke but it wasn't much of a conversation. "You will stay here for the night, food will be brought to you. Do not attempt to leave, as you are an N7 candidate you are subject to a curfew; as a criminal you are subject to punishment for disobeying. " His voice was gruff and gravelly. It sounded like he had stones grinding together for vocal chords.

"Ok." Mali didn't push it. This man obviously didn't like her.

"Tomorrow your training starts; goodnight." Then the door was slammed in her face with a slam, startling her. She blinked a few times in surprise, then turned on her heel to take in her new living courters. It was mostly all white, Mali felt like she had been pulled into a vacuum that had sucked all the color out of everything. "What is it with this planet and everything being white?" She murmured to herself as she took in the room.

It wasn't very big, just an eight feet by eight feet square with a twin bed, a small dresser and a small lamp. Another door led to a similarly white bathroom that had a toilet, a sink, and a small shower. She tossed her backpack onto the bed and sat down next to it; three hours later she was still in the same position. So much had happened in one day it was overwhelming. First had been the trial, and then the fight with Liara. Next had been the hospital, and the shocking reveal of her 'superpower' and now her butt was dropped in some military base and she was surrounded by people who didn't think the best about her. Most of what had happened that day scared her: how does one deal with finding out that they could be the most powerful human in the galaxy?

I'm just a girl from a gutter; from the slums of New Chicago, Mali thought. How can I be what I am? No, thought a little voice in her head, you aren't just a little girl from the gutter. Before Yane had died, he had been part of something, Mali knew it. And not just with Finnick. Things just didn't add up where he was concerned. For one thing he had made an omni-tool; where had he learned to make such a complicated piece of machinery? She also knew that he had been keeping secrets from her. She had been living with him for seven years; she knew him. Or at least she thought she had.

Thinking about Yane made her sad, she hadn't thought of him for a long time. She had shut out her memories every time they had come, all they had brought was heart-wrenching pain and anger. Now she let them come, and with bitter-sweet remorse she fell into a kind of stupor; immersed in them until a click sounded near the door. Mali shook herself out of turned to see a food tray slide out from a small slot near the floor. A plate of food sat steaming in top of it with a cup of water. Mali's stomach clenched and she realized she hadn't eaten all day. She quickly got up from her seat, groaning and stretching for a moment to get the kinks out of her muscles and then picked up the plate. There was mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli and carrots, along with some sort of meat with a thick brown sauce on it. She brought it back to the bed and sat in on her thighs, then tucked in.

She forked some of the meat into her mouth and flavor like she had never tasted exploded on her tongue. The sauce's flavor was powerful, very spicy yet sweet at the same time. She gobbled up the rest in only a second, then worked on the other two equally delicious articles and then sucked down her cup of water with a loud slurp. Her stomach grumbled for more as she set her plate down, but she knew more wasn't coming, she was viewed as a criminal. She set the tray back down near the door and then yawning, she stretched again. There had never been food half that good in New Chicago; at least starving to death wasn't one of her problems anymore. She smiled and then decided to take a hot shower. She basked in the bliss of the hot water running down her back and the soap making her clean.

She stayed in for another thirty minutes then reluctantly came out and toweled, driven from the shower by her pruned skin. From her backpack she pulled some underwear and a shirt and pulled them on, then swept everything else off the bed and snuggled under the cool sheets. She yawned again and closed her eyes, too tired to even say goodnight to Vic before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I

The hover craft landed late that night, its silver skin gleaming in the floodlights of the hangar. The hangar was relatively small with only a few ships about under its tall roof. Without delay the doors popped open and two men dressed in military uniform stepped out, both looking a little haggard from the long trip. Admiral Dickens walked over and shook hands with both; workers came and took their luggage away. "Commander Shepard, Captain Corwin, it's good to have you here." The admiral smiled. "If I might add," he said, turning to Shepard, "you look a lot better than when I last saw you, bended over a bottle with vomit down your front." He insulted.

"At least I don't own a pair of bunny slippers that I secretly wear at night." Shepard returned icily. Captain Corwin watched in horror as Commander Shepard stared stonily at the admiral; both staring challengingly into each other's eyes. The moment stretched into a strained silence until he could barely stand it any longer when suddenly they both broke into broad grins and clapped each other on the back. "How are you old friend?" Commander Shepard asked as they set off from the hangar; Admiral Dickens led them out and toward a tall building with a blue sign that read "military operations."

"I could be better;" Dickens grimaced, "but more on that later. How are you?" He asked, a little more brightly.

"The council took the Normandy." Shepard sighed.

"What? I was wondering why you didn't arrive in that ol' ship of yours." The admiral replied.

"Why do you act so surprised? Haven't you read the report they sent along?" They were now in the building and climbing several flights of stairs, Corwin staying silent behind them as they climbed.

"Besides saying that you were supposed to take over the supervision and running of the N7 training program, no." He answered. They entered into an office that way down the hall after they had gotten from the stairwell. All three men sat down, Shepard and Corwin side by side, and the admiral behind his desk facing them.

"The council deem my mental status unstable, since the reaper war. They say I have been too reckless in the field and also out of it. So they sent me here to get a break, to see if it would do me some good; and they confiscated the Normandy until they are satisfied that I am whole." He explained. There was silence for a while, both in deep thought. After a while though, Dickens spoke up.

"There is nothing that you can't handle, my friend. It isn't like you haven't faced this kind of sickness before." He gave a knowing look, which Shepard understood. His chin lifted as their eyes met. Captain Corwin wondered what had been passed between them that he hadn't caught. "Now," Dickens leaned back into his plush chair, "to work."

"What exactly am I supposed to do while I'm here?" Shepard asked, rubbing his tired blue eyes.

"You will oversee and run the day to day training of the new batch of N7 recruits; Captain Corwin here will help you with that." Shepard lifted an eyebrow.

"You know I'm not a people person." Dickens chortled, leaning farther back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk. He put his hands behind his head.

"This isn't the regular draft. We have a new program up and running." Dickens enlightened. "You might have more in common with these new recruits than you think."

"What's different this time?" Shepard asked.

"The ICT has been encountering some difficulties lately…so they decided to recruit off the street." Shepard stood up in indignant surprise.

"You mean I'm going to be teaching a bunch of kids?!" Shepard exclaimed. "Unbelievable." He sat back down with a huff.

"That's not true." Dickens interjected. "Most these kids have seen more bloodshed and violence than even you commander. Their maturity and level of skill is astounding. I don't know why no one thought of this before."

"The N7 program is made for soldiers who have had COMBAT TRAINING and are the sharpest knives in the drawer; men and woman who have fought in battles where the odds were drastically against them, and have won. A place where the best can become elite. NOT for civilians, let alone kids!" Shepard panted in his chair, breathless from his rant. Dickens calmly folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward.

"Jacob, listen to me. We, the people in the council, are not a bunch of boneheads. We know that some of the recruits might not have the skills we are looking for. That is why we made a special curriculum for this new program. We weren't just going to throw them out there into the field not up for the task. That is why we have designated the first 2 months of training to weed out the unlikely candidates; and then the rest of the year to cultivate the skills of the promising ones. Your job is to get the recruits to that standard level, so they can join the actual N7 training program, when they come of age, which is overseen by me. Think of your program as the training course to the training course. But be warned, some may not need an entire year to train before they are ready for the big leagues. The ICT and the Alliance have reluctantly agreed that if we deem fit, we can send the recruits in early, before they are eighteen—it particular one girl." Shepard leaned forward, intrigued.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Among the special cases I was talking to you about, there is an exceptionally special special case that I feel I must warn you about." Dickens cleared his throat. "Erm…that is top say, among one of your students there is an especially gifted one whom the ICT has high hopes for, her name is Somali. However she has a very complicated past that might pose as a challenge for her and for you that could disrupt the whole school experience." Shepard rolled his eyes at this.

"What could be so bad that even the ICT are uncomfortable talking about?" Both him and Corwin laughed a little at this.

"Well," Dickens averted his eyes a bit as he said this, "She murdered someone—actually—a few someones." There was shocked silence and then suddenly Corwin piped up, incredulous.

"And you let her in?!" Both men stared white faced and shocked at Dickens.

"Yes, because like I said she was a very special case. There is a lot that doesn't add up about her." the admiral explained. "She is a fifteen year old girl from the streets of New Chicago, yet she could take down an entire fortress of a house with close to forty highly trained guards all by herself. Also there is this interesting case that came up as well." Dickens pulled up the schematics of Mali's nodule count on his desk hologram imager. The blueprint hovered a few feet in the air, slowly revolving counter-clockwise above the oaken table.

"What is that?" Corwin asked.

"This the scan we took for ezeeo nodules in her skin." Both men gasped as the meaning became clear. "As you can see, ezeeo is embedded thought her entire skin. She is the most powerful biotic we have ever encountered. The council and I have decided to activate and use her powers; we cannot waste such a gift."

"Would it be safe?" Corwin whispered. "I mean, if things turn bad, she would be a formidable enemy."

"Yes, which is why it is important that she doesn't, you must keep a close watch on her at all times. Boys, the possibilities she presents with the extent of her power are beyond endless." Dickens activated his omni-tool and uploaded her file to both men. "This is all we've got on her right now. Study it carefully. Dr. T'soni is trying to find out more as we speak." Shepard's ears perked up at the mention of Liara's name.

"Liara works here?" he accused. "You forgot to add that little detail."

"It's been ten years Jay." Dickens sighed. "It's time you got past what happened between you two and make amends. Move on with your life!" Shepard stayed silent, but Dickens could tell nothing had changed. "Well, I'd say you two have had a long day, and tomorrow starts the new training program so it be best for all of us if you two got some sleep." He got up from his chair and led them out of his office, closing the door behind him; Mali's blueprint still turning above the table like a silent ghost.

I

Mali woke up to someone banging on her door. She rolled out of bed and checked the clock that was on her bedside table; six-thirty a.m. it read. Groggily she went and opened her door, cringing as her feet hit the cold floor. Gall Stones stood there with his gun tucked under one arm. "Get ready to go." He said in his gravelly voice. "I'll wait for you out here." Mali nodded and yawned, closing the door again. She changed into some fresh clothes (she was running out) and packed everything back into her backpack. She then made the bed and brushed her teeth. Mali looked around the room, it looked like she had never been here; it looked exactly as it had before she came in. Somehow that thought depressed her.

Shrugging on her pack she opened the door again barely seven minutes later and walked out. Gall Stones led her up through the elevator they had used the night before and out into bright sunlight. The plaza, which she had decided to call it, was drastically different then the evening before. The fountain in the middle sparkled as the morning sun shone on it. All around people were walking and talking, a crowd so thick Mali couldn't count the number of people. Hover crafts were swooping in and out of the compound, dropping people and their baggage off. "What is this?" Mali asked as Gall Stones led her through the thick mass of people.

"These are all the new candidates. They are all arriving for the first day." He answered gruffly.

"So many?" Mali whispered. She felt a bit overwhelmed at the sheer mass of bodies clogging the air around her. Mali had never liked crowds; she scrunched up her nose in protest as bodies pressed against her. He led her through the throng of people and into a big building across for the one that she had been in. Through the front doors was a huge room where many tables had been set up; a long line of people stood at what looked like a buffet table, taking what they wanted for its surface.

"Breakfast." Gall Stones nodded in that direction. Mali walked over and squirmed through the press of bodies till she was right in front. Steaming plates of eggs and pancakes and sausage stared up at her. She grabbed a styrofoam plate and piled it high, then went back to where the guard was standing. He motioned to a table and she sat down, setting her plate in front of her. The guard sat down beside her.

"Are you going to be following me around all day?" Mali asked as she tucked into her bacon.

"It is part of the contract you agreed to. One of us will be with you at all times, sometimes two. We have been sent to watch you."

"Ah," Mali waved her fork in the air. "Well then, if we are going to be buddy buddies," she said this sarcastically, "you might want to tell me your name so I don't have to call you Gall Stones in my brain anymore." She said.

"Clint." He said. Mali dug in, she couldn't believe that food had just been sitting there for the taking. Mali got up for seconds, then thirds. As she ate she noticed that most of the tables had begun to fill up. People jostled around, finding places to sit, except hers. There were a few that were sitting on the far end, as far away as they could be, but other than that no one was near her. She looked around in confusion, and then eyed the gun Clint had strung to his broad back.

"I think your scaring people away from me." Mali snickered. Clint eyed her, unimpressed. "Not that I don't appreciate it," Mali held up her hands in mock surrender, "I don't like people anyway." Clint just harrumphed.

"I have a question," Mali said, "what was that sauce on my meat last night?" She asked. "I've never had anything like it."

"What, barbeque sauce?" Clint asked, surprised.

"Ah, barbeque sauce." Mali sighed, reminiscing. Just then Admiral Dickens walked onto a platform fashioned at the front of the room; he was followed by two men that were unfamiliar to Mali. Just below the platform teachers streamed in and stood in a line facing the crowd, there were about seven or so. Among them Mali easily picked out Liara by her blue skin. Mali waved but Liara didn't seem to see her, she was scanning the crowd very intently on the right hand side of the room.

"Welcome!" Admiral Dickens's voice boomed as he stepped up to the microphone in the middle of the platform. "It is my honor to welcome you to the new N7 program deemed Project NightWall! This program is about letting disadvantaged kids, and military career kids, a chance to hone their skills before becoming eligible for service." A cheer rose up from the crowd, which Mali didn't participate in. She was only half-listening, still trying to get Liara's attention. "You have been brought here to participate as subjects in this new experiment. The ICT is honored to have you here today. But enough of this," Dickens motioned to the blonde man standing slightly behind him, "May I introduce the director taking on such a feat, Commander Shepard!" A collective gasp swept thought the room as the renowned war hero stepped up the microphone. This got Mali's attention. She stopped looking at Liara (who was still looking into the crowd) and squinted her eyes, trying to get a better look at the celebrity. He was a lot lamer looking without his armor and gun blazing, he looked almost…normal. Not at all like the ferocious veteran the war podcasts had depicted. Actually, Mali reasoned, he looked kind of nervous in front of such a huge crowd.

"Ah…Hello there." Commander Shepard nervously spoke. "I am…uh…greatly honored to have this opportunity to be able to teach such promising students." The room was completely quiet, everyone but Mali drinking in his pathetic speech. Liara's eyes finally found Mali in the back and Mali smiled her biggest smile. She was confused when Liara didn't smile back; she was focused and looking Mali up and down intently. Mali's smile became weak and half-hearted. What was going on with her? The Commander had finished his speech, which Mali hadn't heard one word, and Dickens was now back at the microphone.

"It is time to get started. Soon, everyone here will be tested on their abilities to give us a starting point, not all of you will get in. Those that make it will be then separated into appropriate groups; the aim is to get as much diversity of skills in a group as possible. Your group will mimic a squadron, with all persons fulfilling a role; one team member will be picked as captain. Along with your personal training, your group will be asked to preform group challenges against other teams. At the end of six months, whichever group has the highest amount of points will graduate early with honors, and then could begin their N7 training immediately after. At the end of the year, hopefully all of you will graduate."

"You must learn to work together, just like a real squadron would, to get the job done." Around the room people had started looking at others, eyeing them and sizing each up. Quite a few looks were sent Mali's way, as she was the only person sitting alone with a hulky bodyguard. "But be warned, this N7 program is not easy. It is designed to make each and everyone here into soldiers, those who are not capable of this will be asked to leave the program, for good." Many in the room gasped, some frowned. Mali rolled her eyes. "The real training begins tomorrow." Dickens continued. "For now, stay here, and wait to be called through the doors behind me to be tested. To all of you," he paused, "good luck."

He them stepped off the podium and walked through the double doors behind it, as did several of the teachers. Commander Shepard and the man Mali had vaguely heard introduced as Captain Corwin stepped off too. Before they could go through the doors, however, a crowd of people had swarmed them, preventing them from moving. On a loud speaker "Tiffany Addle" was called. If they were going in alphabetical order, Mali wouldn't have long till she was called. Great, I hate waiting she thought. She settled in her seat to wait, while other candidates milled around her.

The entire time that Shepard had been doing his speech, he had been staring at the back of Liara's head. Not once did she turn around, even when he was introduced. Crowds were not a problem, he had made speeches before, but knowing that she was hearing his voice on the speaker and what he was saying had made him nervous. Only a few minutes before, as he had been introduced to all the teachers had he been able to finally see her after hearing about her last night. She had looked exactly the same as he remembered her from ten years ago. All he had gotten from her was a curt "hello and welcome" from her before he had had to move on to another. Shepard had intended to talk to her again after the welcoming speech, to try and clear the tension between them, but the surrounding crowd of admirers prevented him from getting to her. And so he watched in vain as she strode of determinedly toward the back of the room, away from him.

Mali was busy picking at the remains of her breakfast when she heard a familiar melodious voice above her. "Good morning Somali." She looked up from her plate to find Liara standing above her. Remembering her weird look a few moments ago, and also the fact that Liara had used her full name, put Mali on edge. Cautiously, she tested the waters.

"Hello Dr. T'soni." It bothered Mali how formal they were being, after all they had been through together.

"May I sit down?" Liara asked, sounding a little tense. What is up with her? Mali thought.

"If you want to." Mali said without any feeling, hating what was going on. A small look of hurt briefly crossed Liara's face before she sat down opposite Mali. Clint got up from his seat and backed a few yards away, sensing the tension. He let them alone to some privacy.

"How are you?" Liara asked, a little awkwardly.

"Good." Mali replied curtly, not elaborating.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." Another short answer. Mali didn't bother to be polite and inquire about Liara's heath. There was an awkward silence between them in which Liara looked down at the table, frowning and in deep thought, and Mali awkwardly watched the people. After a few moments, Mali couldn't bare the tension between them. "Have I done something?" Mali asked quietly. Liara looked up.

"What?" she said.

"Have I done something to upset you?' Mali asked again. She tried to keep the strain out of her voice but failed to keep it out of her eyes. Liara felt a small pang of guilt at having hurt Mali, but she just didn't know what to do now that she knew who Mali was. She decided to go with the truth.

"No, you haven't done anything." Liara answered.

"Than what is going on?" Mali asked. Liara stayed silent.

"Liara?" Mali hesitated, "do you not like me anymore? Have you changed your mind about me because I killed someone?" Mali hoped to God this wasn't the case, but Liara was still quiet.

"If you do, I understand." Mali said quietly, brokenly. She had thought she had finally made a friend. She had thought that Liara wasn't like all the other jerks around here. Liara snapped up again, startling Mali.

"No that's not it. Don't ever think that!" She said vehemently.

"Than what is it?!" Mali said, frustrated. She stood up from her seat. Pain crossed Liara's face. She was tortured; she wanted to speak but she couldn't seem to form the words. Liara looked up again, into Mali's confused and hurt eyes.

"Mali, I—," Liara was interrupted by the loudspeaker. "Somali Avon" it called. Clint came forward to stand behind the heated teenager.

"We've got to go." He said. Mali climbed over the bench and picked up her backpack. Liara watched dumbly, she looked stricken.

"Well, that's that." Mali said sarcastically, looking annoyed. Before Liara could say anything more Mali moved off toward the doors, disappearing in the crowd.