The trip to Rio had been one hell of a shitty trip. We had piled up inside a shuttle leaving from Arcturus, and it had been slow. Intentionally so, it had to be. Not only slow, but crappy. Inertial dampeners were set to an annoyingly low setting, and we shuffled along like untethered idiots. Bottom line, nobody got a wink of sleep, and after ten hours of it we were pretty fed up.
Kim and I were the lowest ranked people in there, and the youngest too. Corporals. Everyone else was at least an NCO, if not officers with full commission and plenty of field experience. Tell you the truth, that made the trip even more uncomfortable. It seemed as if nobody believed we had the right to be there. I didn't disagree on my case, but not on Kim's. Besides, we weren't there to make friends.
Of course, the uncomfortable trip was the idea in the first place. As soon as we arrived, and without even having a chance to settle in, we had been sent to gear up at full load and form up at the gates. Staff Commander Jose Pereira was there to greet us, in a way, together with a whole load of training staff. All of them had their N7 ICT designations on their uniforms.
"Listen up!" he shouted. "Congratulations on being invited to my Vila. Congratulations because that'll be the highest honour any of you will ever achieve! This is not training like you have ever encountered. This is not training any human can pass! There's only one thing you can know for sure."
"You will fail!" the rest of the N7 intoned as one.
"I don't care what you have done, or how much experience you have!" he continued.
"Or how little," someone muttered next to us.
Apparently the Commander had some sort of enhanced hearing mod, because he heard the tiny whisper over the bellows of his N7s.
"YOU! What's your rank!" It wasn't a question, and nobody mistook it for one.
"Operations Chief Will-"
"I don't care about your name! You don't have a name here!" That clamped the chief up rather quickly. The Commander then turned to Kim and I, we were standing shoulder to shoulder. "Rank!"
"Corporal, sir!" I said.
"Corporal, sir!" Kim echoed.
"And how long have you been in the service?"
Okay, spidey senses are tingling, because he wasn't shouting now.
"Just under two years, sir!" Kim said.
"Same, sir!" I said.
"And what about you, Operations Chief Bigmouth?"
"Five years, sir!"
"Five years! Holy shit what took you so long?! Five years before you did something worth noticing! Five years to find your balls and get them into gear! Five years of sitting on your ass while these two busted theirs in less than two!"
"Sir, I-"
"Fuck me! You actually think you belong here!" he yelled, a vein popping on the side of his forehead. "I'm going to make it my mission to show you how wrong you are!" He looked like he was actually daring the chief to answer, and wisely, the latter shut the hell up. Then, he turned to us. "And after him, it'll be you two! And then the rest of you lot!"
He walked to the front of the gate again, and it opened as he walked. He didn't even turn to us.
"Now, start running!"
He didn't have to tell us twice. The rest of the trainers immediately got on our case, and yelled at us to run like our lives depended on it, because they sure as hell did. We didn't make it through the gate, they diverted us towards the left and towards the trees. We were not allowed into the Vila until we proved ourselves to be worthy of the honour, which we assuredly weren't.
The run was just the appetizer. A path had been marked with flashing beacons and we had to stick to the space between the two rows of them. We ran through bush, trees, crossed a river three times, and all the while the N7s were on our heels like rabid pitbulls. By design or accident, though most likely design, we started to spread out and split into smaller and smaller groups, finding that the distance between the two rows of beacons kept getting wider and wider. And as we did, it got worse and worse.
Once we were down to four, we started hearing weapons fire. It would have put a fire in our asses except we already had one, and we were all out of reserves. We were already going at full tilt.
Until we came to a complete stop as we were peppered by automatic weapons fire. Any illusion that they weren't trying to hurt us was dispelled by the yells of pain and calls for doctors. We dove into cover, Kim and I falling on opposite sides of a downed tree trunk, while the other two I didn't even pay attention to.
"What the hell are you doing!" someone yelled at us. "If you don't make it back to the Vila in one hour you're OUT! Move!"
I peeked out and dove in. We weren't going anywhere like that. I couldn't even see who was shooting at us. I pulled my assault rifle out, and started shooting, while Kim followed suit. Nope, we had to dive down in seconds. Fucking N7s.
"We have to go around," I said.
"Don't even think about it! You move out of the marked path and we'll have your asses!"
Kim and I exchanged a look. One of the other two decided that it was a great time to make a run, but was brought down by automatic fire chewing through his barriers. He went down hard, but I didn't see blood.
I gestured at Kim, and pointed at the side, where the beacons were marking the limit of the trail. She made a shrug, and I gestured at my omni-tool.
"Are you crazy?" she mouthed soundlessly. Yeah, I got that.
I nodded. Seriously, what else were we going to do? I made a show of laying down a barrage, diving for cover quickly, and the two of us started retracing our steps slowly. The third guy hadn't said a word, but kept trying to find a way through.
There was no way through. Once we were far enough to be out of view, Kim brought her omni-tool up while I kept watch, and started working on it. It took a distressingly long time until the beacons around the path stopped blinking.
I was right. They were trackers.
"I'm going first," I said in a low voice, and started running.
"Jinx!" she chided me in a hoarse whisper.
"If there were mines or something, it was my idea," I replied.
"Pft," she snorted, but a moment later she reconsidered. "They wouldn't..."
"Don't touch anything," I added as we ran. It wasn't Australia, but I knew there were all kinds of weird poisonous shit in Brazil.
We rushed as fast as I could though the thick bush. It was a long detour, and we were on a timer. We didn't even stop as we completed our arc and came back to the beacons, with Kim working on hacking them again and opening a path for us as we moved. We kept going through the path for another hour, and got to the end of it – the complete loop going around the Vila for nearly fifteen kilometers – with barely a couple of minutes to spare. Holy shit what a run.
But we got away with it.
"Corporals!"
Or not.
"Sir!" we both replied.
The N7 came right at our faces as he yelled at us. "Do you think you can get away with that shit? We see everything! You owe me another lap of the Vila, right now!"
Shit.
"Yes sir!" we replied, and without any hesitation, started running again.
I was well fed up with it, tired, the armor and gear were fucking heavy, I had all sorts of nasty shit in places where nothing should venture, and we had to do it all over again. And listening to Kim grumble, she was probably thinking the same thing.
"Goddammit Jinx," she muttered, breathing heavily.
"What? We got away with it."
"Really? This is your idea of getting away with it?"
"They're not shooting at us anymore, are they?"
Kim tripped when she heard that, but I managed to catch her before she hit the ground. Because fuck it, I was actually right.
The crucible. Shepard still didn't see the irony Roy had hinted at when he talked about this test. A 54-hour run with scattered tests and challenges. And for what she could tell, ever changing tests and challenges. She had heard all about the trials Roy and his platoon had gone through, and they didn't match what they were currently undergoing.
Gladiatorial-style fights on a narrow bridge over a muddy pond had been the first one, with Castor leading by choosing the pairings. It was supposed to be serious and all, but the fights had been an absolute hoot for most of the recruits. Personally, she had simply focused on tripping her opponent out of the flimsy suspended bridge and move on from there. Goldie had caught wind of what she had been doing and tried the same, except that in her case, she had ended up herself in the muddy puddle.
She had nearly drowned because of how hard she had been laughing.
Now they had a simple task in front of them. About a hundred yards worth of field, give or take, and all sorts of artificial obstacles they had to run through. They had seen a couple of other units already traverse the thing, and they knew there were drones armed with paintball guns moving about and pelting them as they made their way through. Unpredictable, fast paced, and crazy. The objective was to get to the other side, where a control panel was waiting, and shut the drones down.
And who had they given the reins of the crazy op to?
"All right," the drill sergeant said, as they watched the last team emerge from the field. They were covered head to toe in paint, the drones really didn't mess around. "You lot better do more than those sorry sods. Goldie! Take the lead!"
"Yes sir!" Goldie replied, a gleeful smile spreading across her face.
She didn't even give any instructions. She grabbed an assault rifle and a pistol, tossed the latter at Shepard, and gestured for her to follow before taking towards the field at full tilt.
"Hey!" Castor called. "What are we supposed to do?"
"Watch!" Goldie replied. "And you can stare at Sheppy's ass if you want!"
Shepard nearly missed a step on that, but as they entered the field, her focus narrowed. She was in the middle of a fight now, and it was just Goldie and her. She hadn't stopped to think why the blonde woman had done that, why she had decided just the two of them had to go in. It didn't matter.
Adrenalin was now coursing though her veins. Real enemies or not, it didn't matter. Once a gun was in her hands, and a mission in her sights, it all became deceptively simple. Shoot the bad guys, work with her fellow soldiers. Kill the enemy.
Simple. Life was so incredibly simple when she was in a fight. She didn't have to think too far ahead.
Goldie opened fire when a drone waltzed in, and they both moved in exact opposite directions to take cover. More drones. Shepard took the one on the left, and Goldie the one in the right. Perfect shots from Shepard. Not so much from her companion. Goldie's weren't perfect, but they were abundant and close enough that the drone deactivated in response. Once the coast was clear, they both bolted out, Shepard falling half a step behind Goldie.
Then the second lot of drones appeared. Goldie twisted in place while Shepard went low, her miniature paintballs almost grazing the blonde.
"Left!" Shepard called.
She jumped up to her feet again, leaning into cover of a large metallic crate, and Goldie followed suit without hesitation, herself going low this time and the both of them laying down coordinated fire like it was nothing. The only drone both of them hit was the last one, for lack of other targets.
"Go, go, go!" Goldie said, taking the front again.
Shepard fell behind once more. Her companion was moving like a woman on a mission. She suddenly put a burst of speed, her body language so clear that Shepard skidded to a stop right away. A burst of painball shots passed harmlessly between the two of them. More drones came out from the opposite end.
She took the right side, while Goldie engaged the ones on the left. Crap, there were a lot of drones. She couldn't afford a miss.
"Shit!" Goldie shouted, diving into cover. Another group of drones, and she hadn't finished yet.
Well, fuck it.
She wasn't sure if it was in the rules or not, but she wasn't going to let the two of them get trapped there. She brought up her omni-tool, and her left hand flew over the controls. She needed a big one. A moment later it crackled, and she bolted out of cover to throw an overload at the largest group of drones.
It landed smack in the middle of them, and bolts of energy flew between them, smoke raising from the falling mechanical enemies. Goldie had come out of cover at that very moment, laying down her own attack and getting the attention of the survivors.
A few seconds later the two of them rushed out of their position, legs working at full speed to get to the end of the field before more drones could appear. Cover disappeared as they got out the further edge, and Shepard sprinted towards the console while Goldie turned around, knee to the ground and scanning the area with her assault rifle.
"Damn," Shepard said, breathing heavily as she looked at the holographic display.
"What? Come on Sheppy you can deactivate them!" Goldie replied. She, too, was breathing heavily, her voice laced with excitement.
"I can't," Shepard said, and waited until Goldie turned to look at her. She was smiling like a madwoman. "There are no drones left."
They looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and suddenly started laughing. Both of them. After the mad dash through the field, the firefights, and coming out the other end "alive", they could do nothing else. They could finally hear the cheers and hoots from the rest of their team, too.
"Ha! I don't think we were supposed to make it," Shepard said.
Goldie laughed again, coming to surprise Shepard by giving her a hug. It was a bear hug, the blonde woman lifting Shepard off her feet and tossing her down again.
"Yah! That's because they don't know you!" Goldie said.
"You're crazy," Shepard said, smiling and shaking her head. "One of these days you're going to get us killed."
"Not if you're around," she replied, winking.
"Why did you only take me anyway?" Shepard said. "We've got a good team."
"Yeah," she replied, twisting her mouth to the side as if she wasn't convinced. "But they have to be told what to do. With you I just do things, and you just read my mind and do what I think you'll do!"
"I'm not reading your mind. What do you think I am, an asari?"
"Course not! You're Sheppy!"
Shepard just looked at Goldie and furrowed her brow, a mix of amusement and confusion. She was a very odd woman.
"I'll have you know, Mindoir, those things aren't cheap!" the drill sergeant yelled at her as the rest of her unit arrived.
"Sorry sir! We were about to be overwhelmed."
"Just the two of you?" he said, looking at Goldie and Shepard alternatively.
"Sir, I wanted a fast incursion, I figured the two of us could handle it!" Goldie replied.
For once, Shepard was treated to a sight she hadn't believed existed. The drill sergeant smiled. Well, maybe. It was the tiniest gesture, gone as fast as it had come, but she would swear to her dying breath she had seen it.
"Get the hell out of here," the sergeant ordered.
They didn't have to be told twice. They still had a long way and a long time to go. She wondered idly whether N-school was as bad as that.
Hell on Earth. That's what this was. Hell on fucking Earth. I couldn't even remember how many days we had been at this. Weeks. It was a five week course, which I knew wasn't enough to make me an N1. Surviving wasn't enough to pass, although surviving was enough to get invited again if I failed. Which at this point, was all I could concentrate on. Surviving.
We were doing twenty hour days, four hours to eat and sleep when we were lucky, and the rest were just a freaking grindstone. Small teams, which changed constantly, just running through all sorts of crazy terrain, with the occasional and very much warning-less firefight to go through. When it was automated systems, we were in there to win them. When it was the N7s, all we could hope for was to survive them.
Survive them, because these exercises included live ammo. I was pretty sure nobody had been killed, but I also was pretty sure we had had wounded.
We had started the day in a group of eight, I had no idea who. At that point, we really weren't bothering to track who was who, which may or may not have been the idea behind it. All that happened was that we were thrown into a group, and we had to get our shit together and work as a team.
After several hours of forging a path through a broken slum, we had come to yet another fight. There were turrets all over the place, and who knew what else. If there were N7s, we were fucked, because there was a lot of weaponry pointed our way already.
Then, they started firing.
We split into two groups almost automatically, four per side. I was at the leftmost edge of the group, Black Mamba in hand. If there was something the training so far had taught me, it was that the weapon was fucking useless. No, not because it wasn't a kickass piece of equipment, but because of the hands that held it. One of the N7s with a pair of chopsticks would be more dangerous than me or anyone else with the rifle.
The other thing the Black Mamba did was single me out. Everybody knew who I was even when we were all in the same Alliance green armor and shuffled around like a deck of cards, and always left me with the same role, the sniper support.
Which, in the current training environment, meant painting a huge fucking target on my back. Thus, I didn't feel particularly honoured by the fact that I got some respect for my shooting skills.
"Cover us!" someone shouted, and he didn't have to specify who he meant.
The three of them fanned out while I took cover on a higher broken wall, already choosing targets. The turrets were the obvious, so I started with them. Three-shot burst mode, everything in the N7 training course was hardened up to fucking hell and back. That shit had to be expensive, and yet there we were, racking enough property damage to outfit an entire platoon with upgrades.
Then the rest of the shots started. Hidden between the ruins. Other turrets, drones coming out of nowhere. Too many targets for me to keep down, and worse still, I didn't have shots on everything.
Fuck it.
With two quick bursts I took down two other turrets, and exchanged weapons as I rushed down to follow the others. Assault rifle in hand, I started picking targets, always the longest range ones. Aim and burst, aim and burst.
It was fucking chaos everywhere. The ruins kept opening wider and wider, and now we were starting to get split real bad. I called for the others a couple of times, but every time I did, I seemed to attract the attention of all the automated enemies.
Which might or might not explain why nobody was answering. Shit, who'd want all that attention?
I had been pushed towards the edge of the ruins, and I could tell I was getting corralled. I swapped to my shotgun, taking targets close by to try and get breathing room. No, this wasn't a fight to win. This was a fight to survive. I blew two drones and a turret with my shotgun, and swapped the Mamba in. I hoped it'd be as good in close quarters as it was from long range.
A heavy shot rang over the chaotic din of battle and smacked me right on the leg, taking all but a tiny sliver of my shields with it. Son of a bitch.
"All right that's enough, stop wasting my time," someone called. This was punctuated by another shot taking a bite off the wall I had chosen as cover, chipping a piece mere inches from my face. "Just give up and save yourself the pain and embarrassment."
Great.
I had to keep going. Given the angle of the shots, I wasn't completely trapped. There was enough room to push forward behind the ruins at the edge without giving a shot to the N7, but he knew it. That was why so many of the turrets were there.
With a flick, I opened the VI menu of the rifle, and swapped the burst mode. Two bullets. I was using three as a safety measure, making sure I'd take a target down even if one of the shots missed or glanced off the extremely strong shields. Well, I'd have to make sure I always hit now.
I bolted out and started taking targets. Two shots, turret down. Two shots, drone down. Two shots, another drone. Dammit but the Mamba was amazing up close, too. It made a mockery of my assault rifle. It felt longer in my hands, but the accuracy was incredible. What it didn't have was the staying power of the Lancer, it overheated with way too few shots.
The fifth target down, I went straight for cover, and not a moment too soon as another shot rang through the air. As I had expected, the sniper had moved again.
"I'm not going to let you get here," he said. "Turn around."
Like hell.
They had gotten a few people to quit, but not me. They were going to have to drag me kicking and screaming out of the Vila if they thought I was going to simply give up.
Priorities, priorities. I had to take care of the automated systems, and I didn't have a lot of time. I had two, maybe three seconds every time I changed directions before I was shot by the N7. I wasn't sure whether it was taking him that long to change position, or if he was intentionally always letting that much time pass between each shot as a way to lure me into a false sense of security.
I was in really deep shit.
"You know it's just you, right?" the N7 said. I hadn't said a word in reply, but he didn't seem to mind talking to himself. "I've just been working my way through."
I took another turret down. Just how many more were there? I was about to bolt, but something in the back of my head stopped me. Yeah, I had been trying to stay ahead of the sniper, but I wasn't doing much progress. I had been on the opposite side of the dance enough times. If I wanted to have a chance, I had to set the pace myself.
With a flick of my thumb, I switched the Black Mamba to full auto. I'd have a dozen shots. I took a deep breath, and then just turned and unloaded. The full clip. I wasn't even aiming properly, I was just shooting in the direction I was sure the sniper would be shooting at me from. The beeping of the overheated rifle acted like the go signal, and I just bolted out. No stims in me this time, no real need for them. I was completely positive the N7 would shoot me the second he had a shot, so my only chance was to fucking book it.
Bullets flew, trailing my flight as I ran. No time for anything. Just running. I kept at it even as my heart felt like it was going to explode, expecting the bullet from the sniper any second.
It never happened. I jumped over a beam at the end and came crashing down to find half a dozen others already there. I must have looked like an idiot because they started chuckling.
"We got one more," the closest one said. "Come on, get out of the way before someone lands on you."
I shook my head and got to my feet, plodding along and sitting on the ground with the others. Damn, I was exhausted. We kept waiting as just a trickle of people made it through. I finally breathed in relied when Kim showed up, and she didn't look half as tired or as ragged as we were.
"How did it go?" I said when she came to sit by me.
"Easy, I-" she stopped talking and took a look around. We couldn't see anyone, but we knew they were always watching. She pointed at her omni-tool, wiggled her fingers, then made a mimicry of the turrets with her hand.
Reprogrammed the turrets?
I chuckled at that. Nice. The rule of N-school wasn't to follow the rules. It was not to get caught when breaking them.
Me? I just blew shit up. Seemed to work for me.
"Congratulations marines!"
Graduation day. Where had time gone to? Shepard had to stop to think about it, it had basically flown by. Physical, then weapons… It was such a solid routine that it could have been a day or a year, and it wouldn't have made a lick of difference.
The only real memory that stood out on its own had been the crucible. They had sold it to them hard as a life-changing experience, so to speak, and after going through it she could only agree. Her unit had changed after that. The twins were now working with the others instead of just each other. Same with Goldie, they all gotten to like her antics and her strange ideas. Robbins was still his same monosyllabic self, but they had actually seen him crack a smile now. It was a good thing he didn't do it often, because it looked weird on him. And there was Chad, even though he was always the joker of the group, he actually could lead, and not just follow.
As for herself, she wasn't too sure how she had changed in the eyes of others. She felt like she could work with the rest of her unit. There was a certain amount of trust between them she'd have never expected to ever put in another human being only a year ago.
They had all grown close. It wasn't a family, even through others referred to it like that. Shepard knew it would never feel like that to her. But it was a good group to be close to.
The cheers became almost deafening as the newly minted marines broke ranks. Shepard waited for the worst of it to pass, and then went towards the seats, looking for the tall marine and newly minted N1.
"Sheppy!"
She didn't need to turn, already expecting Goldie to tackle her by the shoulders. She did so, and so hard that Shepard had to take several tumbling steps not to lose her balance while carrying her friend on her back.
"What?" Shepard said.
"Nothing!" she replied, jumping down. "What are you planning? I wanna go celebrate!"
"Back to Arcturus for me," Shepard said.
"Great! We can celebrate there!"
"You're going to-" Shepard stopped talking when she finally saw Roy. "Roy!"
Her sudden call caught the interest of Goldie. She made a small squeal and grinned at Shepard, her mischievous look making her chuckle. Roy made his way through the throngs of people, and came to stop in front of Shepard. He was smiling, but it wasn't a big smile. She knew he had wanted her not to join the army, but at least he was there for graduation day.
She could have sworn he was already coming around to it, but then again, omni-tool messaging was different from having him face to face. She really felt like he was accepting her decision now.
"Congratulations," he said, and there wasn't a hint of irony or regret in his voice. He meant the word.
"Thanks! And you too. N1, huh?"
He grimaced at that. He looked tired, with dark circles on his eyes and a taut expression on his face.
"Wow, special ops? That's amazing!" Goldie said.
"You must be Goldie," Roy said, offering his hand.
"Yeah!" she replied, shaking it. "And you must be Sheppy's boyfriend."
"Goldie!" Shepard snapped.
Roy, however, didn't have much of a reaction. He just chuckled and shook his head. "Not quite."
"Hmm, then I should tell Castor," Goldie said.
Once again, Roy didn't seem to have much of a reaction, and for some silly reason Shepard felt a little annoyed at that. Granted, she was no prize, but he could at least… well, something.
"You look like shit, Roy," Shepard suddenly said. It was true, at least.
"Yeah, you look really cute too," he agreed without much of a fight. "The Vila's not fun."
"Well, maybe we should get going."
"Great! Let's!" Goldie replied.
Before Shepard or Roy could say anything the rest of her unit came to join them, and just as confusingly quickly, soon the whole lot of them were piled up in one of the shuttles flying to Arcturus. They weren't the only ones flying back, and the entire trip was filled with boisterous laughter, stories, and roughhousing. Roy fell into the chatter easily enough, talking about his own time in bootcamp. Stories about what came after it were in high demand too, but it wasn't the same. Roy was part of the fifth fleet, so it was ground combat at the edges of Alliance space most of the time. Most of Shepard's platoon was going to join the eighth fleet, whose orders were around the protection of the trading routes in and out of Alliance space. Ship to ship combat. What was ahead of her for the next three months would be zero grav training, boarding ops, and a whole lot of being cooped inside the ships.
Well, it didn't matter. At that point, nobody was thinking that far ahead. Most everyone cared only about food, booze, and whatever came after that.
They arrived to Arcturus in a matter of hours, the freshly trained marines spreading out like they owned the place under the amused looks of the more veteran members of the military aboard the station.
"So! Whatcha want us to do?" Goldie said, looking at Shepard. "You're the one who knows the place!"
Ribs!
"Relay Rob's," Roy said, not even missing a step. "Trust me."
"Yeah, that," Shepard said, and laughed.
"You joining us?" Goldie said, looking at Roy.
"Nah, you lot go have fun, I'm going to crash."
He tapped Shepard's shoulder, and gave an all-encompassing look at the rest with a smile on his face. Shepard looked at him go, but made a mental shrug and left with the others. He looked like he could use some sleep, or maybe a lot. Besides, she had something else in her mind.
Ribs!
"Holy shit Sheppy!" Goldie said, looking at the pile of bones on Shepard's plate. "I've never seen you eat like that!"
Shepard looked up from her plate and around. The rest of his unit were all looking at her with wide, surprised eyes.
"No shit," Castor said.
"Because all you've seen me eat is protein paste," Shepard replied, undeterred. She had asked for ribs, more ribs, and keep them coming until they said stop.
So far, they hadn't. And while the twins had made a valiant effort to keep up, she was the last one standing. The waitress swung by with a new tray, refilled her Astro-fizz, and gave her a questioning look.
"Yeah, I think that'll be enough," Shepard said.
"Good, you were scaring me honey," the waitress said, making the others laugh.
Ribs always brought back memories to her. And for once, those memories were not just bitter. She was surrounded by people she didn't mind being surrounded by, it wasn't just Roy and her. Maybe she wouldn't feel like a burden to him anymore.
So, she kept eating. She just didn't want it to stop. She hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time.
"So," Goldie said in a conspiratorial tone. "What's with you and Roy then?"
Shepard stopped mid-bite and looked up at the blonde woman. The others had moved on from the eating, and were about to leave with another group in search for a place to drink some proper beer. Or so their loud proclamations said.
"What?" Shepard said, after gulping.
"So he's not your boyfriend, what's going on then? I don't get it."
"He's…" Shepard hesitated, taking an idle bite off the next rib. "He's from Mindoir," she finally said. It wasn't exactly right, she knew he was actually from Earth, but she didn't like talking about his past any more than he himself did. She wasn't about to spill the beans.
"Really? Was he… was he there?"
"Yeah, he dragged me out and saved me," she said in a low voice. "If you ask him, he'll tell you I didn't need his help, but..."
"Oh. Oh wow. I didn't expect that, why didn't you tell me?"
Shepard shook her head and went back to her plate. Damn, she was full, but she didn't want to leave anything there.
"It's complicated. I… I try to think of him like family, but it's hard. And I still don't understand him either. He's like… He's trying to protect me, but I don't know what from. I mean, it's not Mindoir anymore. Heck, I can shoot better than he can with all but the sniper rifle."
"Hm, he must have been unhappy when you joined up," Goldie said, picking up a potato wedge and chewing it thoughtfully.
"That's the thing, I don't think he was. I think he was expecting it. He just said I could count on him from then on."
"Must be nice," Goldie said absently.
Shepard looked at Goldie in surprise. Nice? It was confusing as hell, and not just Roy's attitude, but also the way she felt about it. About him. It was an absolute maelstrom of logic and emotion clashing with each other every time she thought too deeply about it.
"Nice?" she finally said.
"That he dragged you out of there. That he saved you." She hesitated, and her normal cheerful demeanour melted away. "When my father saved me, he didn't do that. He just took a gun and got himself killed. Didn't want to run away with me."
"What?" Shepard said. It had been so unexpected, she didn't even know how to react to it.
Goldie shook her head and put an easy smile on her face. "Doesn't matter now, does it? Come on, I want to see Castor try to hit on you," she added, giggling and standing up.
It had been a night and a half. Shepard had barely tasted alcohol before, having only turned eighteen the day she joined the Alliance, and now she was pretty sure she wasn't going to do much drinking in the future. Goldie claimed she was just focusing too much on the negatives, and should look more at the positives. All while slurring her words so hard it was hard to understand her.
Maybe she was right. She had been right about Castor, too; he had tried to hit on her.
"I don't not like you," Shepard muttered, stopping at the closed door of their apartment. "You idiot," she muttered to herself. She paused to try and get her bearings back, and make sure she could walk straight. Roy was probably asleep, and she didn't want to wake him. He had looked like he seriously needed some rest.
When she opened the door, she was surprised to see it wasn't total darkness inside. A glow caught her eye, which she realized was that of an omni-tool. She fumbled a couple of times, and finally found the light switch. And when she did, she had to contain her surprise.
Roy was sitting on the sofa, arms on his legs and a vacant expression on his face. He was facing the floor, looking as if he was gazing at the space outside the station. Lost.
"Roy?" Shepard said, getting no answer at first. "Are you okay? What happened?" she insisted, still getting no answer.
She looked over his shoulder and saw the beginning of a message. From Kitt. She furrowed her brow, remembering her own omni-tool had pinged a couple of times, but she had been ignoring it. Thus, she opened the gizmo, and started scrolling. Transfer orders, ten days from then to join the eighth fleet. From Castor, which she decided to ignore until morning. From Kitt, there it was. What-
Her eyes opened wide as she read the message, and the world became a dim, distant thing. It couldn't be. She dropped on the sofa next to Roy with a heavy thud, and the marine didn't even flinch, or give any sign of noticing. She read and re-read the text, the words refusing to coalesce into coherent meaning.
The both of them stood like that, in silence, as Arcturus kept spinning. Shepard was the first one to react. She reached out, and grabbed Roy's shoulder. When he didn't react, she leaned over, and placed her head on his shoulder.
Dear Aliana,
We're all terribly saddened to give you the news that Joe passed away last Friday. Unbeknown to us, he tried to board a cargo shuttle departing towards Mindoir, and during transit, be it accident or negligence, the cargo holds lost pressure and he perished. It was not unknown to us that he wanted to return to Mindoir, but we never expected he would do something so rash.
There will be a funeral service for him next Friday, 2:30 pm at our state.
Sincerely,
Kitt, Simon, Hank, and Danielle.
Shepard had only seen Kitt's home during New Year's celebrations, when happiness and laughter permeated every cubic inch of air. This, this was different. She thought she'd never look at the house the same way again.
Clutching the piece of paper, she took a deep breath and stepped inside the house. Paper. Again. Only Roy would think of doing something like that. He had told her omni-tools were too impersonal for this kind of thing. If he wasn't going to be there, he wasn't going to send a simple omni-tool message. So, he had spent hours sitting in front of that sheet of paper. Some of it writing. Most of it thinking.
She thought about the letter he had written to her, now carefully packed at the bottom of her duffel bag. She hadn't had the heart to burn it, and she hadn't gotten past the first two lines. Maybe one day she'd read it, but she hoped Roy would tell her what was inside before that happened.
The one she was now carrying, though, she hadn't even tried to read.
With an uneasy step, she walked into the house, careful not to get her black dress caught on anything. She really wasn't good at wearing clothes like that. She was much more at home with her military fatigues.
"Kitt, Simon," she said, her voice low.
"Oh Lana," Kitt replied once she laid eyes on her. "You came," she added, giving Shepard a light hug.
"Thank you for coming," Simon said.
"Of course. I'm… I'm sorry."
Kitt nodded, giving her a small, pained smile. "I know dear."
"Roy couldn't come," Shepard said, and offered the letter to Kitt. "He gave me this letter. I know, I know, he's a bit weird like that," she added, forcing a smile herself. "He's got some orders or something, he couldn't tell me."
She knew she was about to start babbling, so she decided to just clam up and move on after giving Kitt another hug. She recognized a lot of faces there, but couldn't remember a lot of names. She knew the direct family was small in number, but the extended family and friends could fill an arcology. She stepped lightly, trying to stay out of the way, and quickly spotted Danielle.
"Lana," the young woman said, her voice a hoarse whisper as she walked quickly to her side. "Oh gosh you came."
Danielle came to give her a hug, and Shepard found herself with the girl very firmly attached to her. She put her arms around Danielle's shoulders, and waited for her to put herself together. It took a while, neither of them saying a word, until a chocked sob escaped Danielle.
"Of course I came," Shepard said.
"I-I'm sorry," Danielle said, taking a step back and wiping her face. "I'm sorry…"
"It's okay Danni. Come on, let's go freshen you up," Shepard said.
She took Danielle's hand and guided her to the restroom, where she could wipe and wash her face. Shepard waited patiently for her to get herself back in order, arms crossed and leaning against the wall with her gaze lost in the distance. She looked like she could wait there forever, her presence strong and reassuring. It wasn't how she was actually feeling, not by a long shot, but it was the only thing she could think of offering to Danielle.
"Did you… Did you ever think about it?" Danielle said, leaving the towel by the sink.
"About what?"
"Going back." Danielle paused, as if to gauge Shepard's reaction. "You know… Mindoir."
Shepard took a deep breath and shook her head. "Roy asked the same. I haven't. He dragged me out of there kicking and screaming, and... I knew I didn't have anything to go back to."
"Yeah, you had Roy and we… we just…"
"Don't," Shepard said. "It wasn't your fault. You guys were great. Are great."
"But…"
"But nothing." Shepard took her hand and led her out again. "Whatever happened, you did everything you could. You are a great family."
The two of them walked down the stairs slowly, and Danielle held onto Shepard's hand like a lifeline. They all filed towards the improvised chapel, where the others had already started to sit. The casket at the front was closed, and Shepard didn't have to guess why. Exposure to the vacuum of space, not a good way to go.
Simon was the first one to talk. His voice was slow and paused, something she had rarely heard from him. He was always the sound of solid assurance, and she knew he had seen people die in the service. She took a moment to mentally chide herself for that, seeing combat wasn't the same as seeing one's son dead.
Kitt followed, and she barely managed to get through her short but heartfelt eulogy without breaking in tears. Hank's was even shorter. And then came Danielle's turn.
Shepard felt her squeeze her hand, but she didn't move from her spot. A few eyes turned their way, which made Danielle sink deeper into her seat.
"I can't…" she whispered.
"It's okay Danni," Shepard said.
"I…"
There were too many people looking. Without thinking about it any further, Shepard patted Danielle's hand, and stood up, heading for the front. She had not prepared anything, she didn't even know what she was going to say, but there she was.
"I didn't know Joe as well as most of you," she started, her gaze taking the faces in slowly. "We were both from Mindoir. I had never met him until the day." She didn't elaborate on what day she referred to, and didn't really need to. "He was the youngest of us, the few of us who made it out. I remember… I remember on the trip back. We were all having bad dreams, and Roy had managed to get usto talk about it. Then Joe started talking about dreamering." A small smile got to her face. "And Roy just picked up the ball, the two of them started saying dreamering, dreamering, and we all laughed. It was the first time I heard laughter after the attack.
"Of all of us, Joe was the one who reminded us there was still life after Mindoir. When he left with Kitt and Simon, the last thing he did was come to all of us to give us a hug." She paused to gulp, and try to undo the knot that had risen to her throat. "It's… He was just so bright. Like nothing could ever take all his happiness. Even when he was sad, even when the memories came back, he always tried. He tried so hard... If… if I have any hope for the future, it's because Joe gave me some of his…"
That was all she could say. She wasn't even sure if it made much sense, but she couldn't keep talking. She stepped down and legged it towards the back, trying hard to keep her face neutral. It was only when she stepped out that she let the tears flow. Alone.
She was glad Roy wasn't there, she didn't want him to see her like that. Ever.
A few moments later, Danielle slipped to her side, and silently gave her a handkerchief.
Author's Notes: ...
...
Yeah. I've got nothing.
Okay, okay, maybe not. I didn't dwell too much on the Vila, a couple of scenes to give a feeling of what N1 entails, which is mostly combat drills in bad terrain during 20-hour days (what we know from N-school specified in-game). I figured it'd be intense, but not very groundbreaking. It's more of a grindstone, really. N2+ should be more exciting. I also wanted to put Shep and Roy in a similar situation, just to show the contrast between bootcamp and N-school. Crazy stuff! There's more to come, and now Shep's graduated and is out in the big bad world. Better watch out!
You might have noticed time's starting to pass a little faster now, with more timeskips (well, other than the big one I had before Shep enlisted). Doesn't mean that we won't have some of Roy's or Sheppy's adventures though, but, well, I'll concentrate more on the important events.
Important events for both, let me tell you. Oh, the fun I'll have! Muahahaha! (That was made in my best villain voice).
Azariah Kyras: Thanks! Appreciate the continued support :)
RadioPoisoning: No kidding! So far he's managed to squeeze by, but it's just an appetizer. If anything, the Vila has shown him the chasm between him and a proper N7.
BJ Hanssen, Tactus501st: Oh yeah, Jack's going to be back. It may take a while though, I mean, she's still rather young.
Serenarey Chiba: Here it is! :D
Zeru'Xil, bdrivermp, Selias: Oh I've got the scene for the younger asari being sent after Roy already planned. It won't be elaborate, but I hope it'll be amusing. Can't have all feels and no fun in the fic!
Oyshik: Funny you mention those, I'm going to be bringing the career-defining events up very soon (you may have noticed Roy's not done anything about them yet).
Anonymoose: Thanks for that! Yeah, it's more of a Shiala/Roy thing, as in, personal issues trying to understand each other, including Shiala's lack of experience with humans (relatively new to the galactic scene, after all) as well as other reasons, and Roy's own personal hangups. I'll be trying not to lay it too thick, but there'll be time to elaborate on it.
Toothless: Close! And in part :)
Big E: Well, Shiala's going to be part of the plot, and will work with Roy a lot (those two shouldn't be spoilers at this point). So expect some feels, at least :)
Jarnsaxr: Thanks! That's high praise, I'll keep working on it and hope I can live up to expectations :)
Lfan8: Man, we're really in the same brainwave, you're pretty much hitting all the points. Aethyta is a riot to write, too.
Sci-Fifan95: Thanks for the support! I like cliffhangers almost as much as JJ Abrams likes lens flares, I really need to wean myself off them. The drill sergeant is Sergeant Baker, and he's been yelling at marines for over twenty years now!
Bolondka, 5 Coloured Walker: Thanks! You guys rock, I appreciate the support :)
Next chapter, something big. And funny, I hope. We need some fun after this freaking downer of a chapter ending. Until then, thanks for all the reviews, reading, following, favouriting, and all the good stuff! Ta-ta!