Mass Effect 1. Stupid Jellyfish and Toy Ships

_**A/N: **_**Hello readers! Welcome to my first Mass Effect fic! Working really hard on this one, so PMs, reviews, and all that jazz are greatly appreciated. This fic is going to follow the same format each chapter. Half of the chapter will be a flashback from ME1, ME2 or even earlier. The other half will follow the events of Mass Effect 3. Anyway, without further adieu.. ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!**

* * *

_**August 23rd, 2170**_

_**Mindoir**_

_**Attican Traverse**_

"Jennifer!"

Jennifer Shepard heard her voice being called, but reckoned she didn't much care. She fidgeted on the low branch she had been napping on, trying to get comfortable again and putting the minor disturbance behind her. A warm breeze shook the leaves of the tree she rested in gently, creating a low rustling sound that eased her back to sleep..

"_JENN!_"

She started awake from her doze, grabbing onto the branch to avoid slipping off into the soft tilled dirt below. After her heart rate returned to normal, she peered over the branch and down at the voice below.

"What do you want, Mark?" She called down, stifling a yawn as she did so. Mark Shepard stood a few feet below her, his arms crossed and face stern. Two mesh baskets sat next to him, one half full with fruit and the other was empty save for a few clumps of dirt. It didn't take a lot of guessing to figure out why he had woken her up.

"You know exactly what I want," Mark said, echoing her thoughts. He gestured towards the empty basket impatiently.

Jennifer sighed, hoisting her feet over one side of the branch and dropping down next to her twin brother. She brushed the dirt and bark from her stained pants and nudged her brother with her shoulder affectionately.

"You are always so hung up," She picked up her basket and flashed her brother a brilliant smile.

"Yeah, well you're always so lazy," He said sternly. His serious facade quickly faded as he turned to her and ruffled her amber hair fondly. She beamed up at him, but his smile soured into a sad frown.

"You know they're all counting on us, Jenn." He said softly.

"I know," She muttered quietly in response, bowing her head.

"Mom, Dad, everyone else in the colony. If we don't turn up a profit we'll lose all of our funding." He glanced over his shoulder to their small town in the distance, past the fields their family owned. Many of their crops were dotted with colorful fruits and vegetables. It was a fruitful harvest this season, but it still was barely enough to feed the entire colony, let alone be exported.

They set to work picking the fruits from the vines and trees, trimming the overgrowth and checking to make sure the water pumps hasn't clogged. It was mind numbing dull to Jennifer, but Mark actually enjoyed the monotonous work. He began to hum quietly to himself, enjoying the warmth of Mindoir's late summer.

"What the hell are you so chipper about?" Jennifer called behind him as she bent over to inspect a potentially ripe tomato.

"Nothin'," He called back to her. "It's just a nice day." Behind him he heard her scoff lightly. The condescending sound would normally put him off, but today Mark didn't feel like fighting again. It seemed like all they did was fight.

"Maybe you'd be in a better mood if you actually slept instead of watching vids all night." Mark bent over and meticulously scratched dried dirt off the toe of his boot, waiting for his sister to catch up.

"Five minutes of those vids are more interesting than a year of tending to plants on this stupid rock."

Mark shook his head and sighed. "I just don't much see the point of it is all."

Jennifer looked up at the slightly taller boy, her eyes narrowed.

"Why not?"

"You know dad would never let you be a marine," He replied hastily, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her intense stare. It was a trait that all the Shepard's shared. Their icy blue eyes were enough to make the average human feel anxious and uneasy, even amongst each other. "He was a marine and he left that life to start a new one here. He says this is better for us."

Jennifer rolled her eyes and stepped past him. "I don't want to be a marine, dumbass. But getting off this rock would make me happier than a Hanar in a fish tank." She turned back to him, flashing him a smile and a wink as she walked backwards.. "And those war vids are the closest I've got now."

He gave her his own crooked smile. "I don't think Hanar are very happy in fish tanks, Jenn." She shrugged dismissively.

"Eh, who knows. They're just all big stupid Jellyfish."

* * *

Large bugs buzzed around their heads as they ventured to the outskirts of their family's fields. Beyond the tall fence that marked the border of their land lay the immense and untamed forests of Mindoir. They were gathering the last of the ripe fruits from the particular row when Jennifer suddenly stopped.

Mark turned around giving Jennifer a puzzled look. She held up her hand to shush him and set down her heavy load of fruits as she tilted her head. A few moments later Mark heard what had stopped her in her tracks.

He turned his head up to see shuttles flying low above his head, their exhausts nearly catching fire to the tall trees below them. They flew so low that Mark could make out strange insignias on the side of each shuttle. It was even more disconcerting when he wracked his brain to put a name to the strange design and came up short..

Jennifer cast Mark a nervous look as his head followed the unknown shuttles that neared their small colony. She watched his mouth move as he counted the shuttles.

"There are fifty," he turned to her, slightly confused at the shuttles and also how quickly she counted them all. He scratched at his unkempt black hair.

"Who are they?" He said, glancing back at the lone settlement on Mindoir.

"I don't know…" She trailed off. Without warning, she dropped her basket and began to run back towards the settlement.

"Wait!" Mark called out behind her, but she was already out of sight. He could hear her boots splashing in the mud as she sprinted. She looked towards the shuttles, shielding her eyes against Mindoir's lone sun as it set on the horizon. She felt a tightening feeling in her gut. It only intensified moments later when the alarms went up.

Mark was next to her moments later, fingering his omni-tool with wide eyes as he ran on her flank.

"Batarians," He breathed, stopping in his tracks as he stare down at the warning message. Jennifer stopped a few paces ahead, watching as the first hails of gunfire were fired from the forward most shuttles.

"No," She gasped, watching the gunfire tear into the prefabs that housed so many people she knew. She turned around to her brother who was still staring down at his omni-tool, seemingly shell shocked. She grabbed his forearm and began pulling him roughly. "We need to go get Mom and Dad!" She shouted at him, panic evident in her voice.

He nodded at her, blinking a few times to bring himself to reality. He tucked his chin and sprinted towards the chaos right behind his sister. Hearing the first of many screams.

They met some resistance heading the other way. Families bloodied and tired, carrying their meager belongings and small children as they fled into the Shepard orchards and fields. Jenn watched them irritably as Mark ran up those fleeing their home to inquire about their parents. She was certain that they were running to their deaths. The slavers probably had the entire settlement surrounded, cutting off any escape. Their best chances would be if they all stood together to fight off the threat head on. She sneered at them. They were all cowards.

Mark padded back to her, shaking his head. "They haven't seen Mom or Dad either," He said, his voice tinged with worry.

"That's because they wouldn't have run," Jennifer responded flatly, watching the smoke rise up from the small town. A few shuttles still circled around providing air support, but most had already landed and dispensed their cargo of Batarian slavers.

Mark looked at her levelly, a sad frown on his face as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He shook his head almost imperceptibly and then ran off towards their burning home, Jennifer on his heels.

* * *

They sat in the bushes, wielding their makeshift weapons as the chaos unfold in front of them. The Batarians were lightly armored and armed with an assortment of shotguns and assault rifles. They tore easily into the makeshift militia that was defending the small settlement on Mindoir. The farmers were poor shots and poorly armed. Mark cringed at the bodies already littering the streets. They were dropping like flies.

Mark tensed as he spied Tevin Green duck behind bench for cover. Tevin was a grade above the twins but was one of Mark's closest friends. Tevin was holding a small pistol with white knuckles at he peered above the bench at Batarian's that hadn't seen him yet. His other arm hung limply at his side as blood poured out of a wound on his shoulder. Mark nearly cried out to Tevin, but he knew doing so would alert the Batarians just a few meters away. In a reckless move, the young man lifted his handgun with his good arm and began firing.

Mark turned his head away as bullets ripped through the bench and into Tevin. His grip tightened on the sheers he was holding and he felt his mouth water as if he was going to vomit.

Jennifer grabbed him just as he began to lunge out of the bushes, as if to save Tevin who was already bleeding out and twitching in the tall grass.

"We have to go while they're distracted," She hissed. The Batarians were hurrying over to where Tevin lay staring up at the sky and gasping. Seemingly to finish the job.

"But Tevin!" Mark's voice was choked with grief. Jennifer pulled him harder, grabbing him by the collar of his farming shirt and nearly dragging him into the alleyway. Halfway down the alleyway Mark regained his composure, apologizing quietly and adjusting his grip on the sheers. She gripped his shoulder firmly in a reassuring manner and as they continued their trot down the narrow side street.

They made their way deeper into the settlement, finding a ring of prefabs that created the center of town. They made their way into their own, familiar prefab, Mark taking point while Jennifer watched the rear.

the farmboy tensed as he entered his small apartment. A figure lay curled up in the corner of the prefab, unmoving. Mark's grip on the sheers tightened momentarily but relaxed when he saw frightened blue eyes identical to his own looking up at him.

"Mom!" He let out a sigh of relief rushing to his mother's side. In his mother's arms a toddler had his face pressed firmly against her chest. He looked up at the sound of Mark's voice, reaching out to his older brother. Mark knelt down and hugged his mother. He kissed his baby brother on the cheek, relieved that they were alright.

Jennifer hadn't moved from the door, she peered through it cautiously searching for any Batarians that had reached the town square.

"I'm so glad you two are a-alright," The mother of three said, her voice shaky. "When I heard the gunshots and you two weren't back I thought…" she trailed off, pulling Mark in for another hug.

"Where's dad?" Mark inquired. His mother's already pale, freckled face seemed to whiten even more.

"He went outside." She gestured towards the window. The sun had already set and any light had faded quickly. The only light that could be seen was from the weapons fire in the distance.

"He took one of the handguns with him. He...He.." She brought her hand to her mouth as she fought back tears. Her messy bun had fallen and her red hair fell in front of her face like a veil.

_Like a funeral veil._ Mark thought morbidly. He tightened his jaw and shook his head to remove the unsettling thought from it.

Roy, the youngest Shepard child began to cry aswell, mirroring his mother's distress. Mark grit his teeth almost painfully and turned his head to Jennifer. She was standing in the middle of the prefab, her hand on her heart and her slightly agape. She was taking large gasping breaths as if she was trying to hold back emotion.

"We don't know anything yet, Jenn." He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. With that he turned back to his mother and stood, offering his hand to help her stand. Instead of her hand, she drop a Carnifex into his outstretched palm.

He looked down at the weapon, gulping audibly. His father had taught both of the Shepard twins how to shoot early on in their childhood. Mark nearly smiled at the memory of their father taking them out to the edge of their fields and shooting at bottles and the occasional critter that would come by, fat on their crops. Living in a colony in the Skyllian Verge, Mark was well aware that there had always been a chance this day would come. But, feeling the weight in his hands and knowing now that he wielded it with the intent to kill was a feeling that nearly took his breath away. He holstered the weapon and nodded to his mother, steeling his nerve as he turned towards the door.

He strode out the door with a determined stride. It was stopped short as an armored arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him off his feet. He only had time to let out of startled yelp until his entire view was covered with the face of a Batarian. He gagged gripping desperately at the arm choking off his air. His Carnifex pistol lay on the ground out of reach.

An angry cry wrung out in the air, the Batarian looked up with gritted teeth and was immediately greeted with a pair of sheers to the eye. Mark's own eye widened as the bright red batarian blood poured onto his face. He saw his savior twist the sheers in the Batarian's eye, cutting off it's guttural scream as the sheers plunged deeper into it's skull. It fell backwards, releasing Mark and falling limp against the prefab, sheers still firmly planted in it's eye.

Mark sat up, gasping sweet air and gagging at the not so sweet taste of blood in his mouth. He looked up to an equally bloody Jennifer Shepard. She was staring at the Batarian's body as Mark composed himself. She bent over and picked up the Carnifex and held it out to her twin.

"You dropped this," She said, humorlessly. Mark took it and checked the safety, realizing now that the weapon would be no use to him if the safety was on. He clicked it off and stood up, giving his mother a reassuring nod and Jennifer a pat on the back.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

_**September 2nd, 2186**_

_**Vancouver**_

_**Earth**_

_**Sol System**_

Jennifer Shepard started awake. She stared up at the chrome ceiling in confusion as her heart beat slowed. She craned her neck towards her clock on the wall and squinted at the illuminated digits in the corner of her dark room.

_0402_

She groaned loudly. Stubbornly she turned over and tried to force herself back into a light slumber, if only for a few minutes. It was a fruitless effort and a few minutes later she found herself in one of the many gyms of the Alliance base, clad in her workout sweats.

The lights flickered on as she entered the large and mostly empty room. She smiled to herself and she took in the sight of the exercise equipment and track that lay before her. She was pleased to find not another soul was in sight, finding the thought of company in the wake of her fouling mood anything but pleasant.

She did a few stretching exercises, feeling the thick corded muscles of her body relax, then she took off on a steady pace along rubber track. She mulled over her thoughts as she ran, trying to determine what had woken her.

Dreams were the most likely culprit. They had been disturbing her long before she had risked a suicide mission, interacted with a faulty beacon created by a species long extinct not once but twice, and most importantly died. She shook her head slightly as a chill ran up her already sweating form. Sometimes it was still hard to believe that she had died. But a quick glance at the slightly glowing scars that decorated her arms brought the memories to the forefront of her mind.

While all those things were traumatic by anyone's standards, the former alliance officer was very adept at stowing it away to the far reaches of her mind. Plenty of people warned her against this, coaxing her to talk about her experiences. But to her they were in the past, and there was no changing this or point dwelling on it.

But there was one memory that was burned into her mind permanently. One that would always force itself to the forefront of Shepard's mind when she had too much time to think. And conveniently now with her discharge pending that was all she had.

She made a sharp turn abruptly and ran towards a line of punching bags. She stopped in front of one and began the hand to hand combat routine that she had learned during basic training. Basic felt like a lifetime ago but she didn't miss a single step as she unmercilessly wailed on the innocent sack. It was a good workout, good enough to shift her focus.

She was halfway through the well practiced routine when a flash of brown hair caught her attention. Ashley Williams stood near the entrance of the gym. Even in her loosely fitting PT's she looked formidable as she towered over the shorter soldier.

She was conversing with a stocky soldier standing at parade rest. The lieutenant commander's hair bobbed back and forth as she pulled it into tight bun. She talked casually with the soldier and he snapped her a salute, then ran off to the other soldier's that Jennifer did not see enter.

Shepard was about to turn to leave when Ashley looked up and directly at her, making and holding eye contact. She felt a slight irritation as Ashley made a beeline towards her, her loose PT uniform ruffling slightly.

Ashley stood a few feet from the older woman, never breaking eye contact.

"Williams," Shepard said in the neutral tone.

"Commander Shepard," Ashley replied, a friendly smile creeping over her face. Shepard broke the eye contact, feeling shame attached to the title.

"It's just Shepard." She corrected. Ashley's smile flattened, leaving the two standing awkwardly.

"So…" Ashley began. "Any word from Alliance brass?"

"Ash."

"I'm just wondering when this whole thing is going to blow over." Ashley unconsciously rubbed her arm, the awkward tension making her feel just that. Awkward and tense. Jennifer stood there in silence, shaking her head sadly.

"It won't just blow over." Jennifer said bristled visibly at her tone. But nevertheless, Ashley tried once again to mend the barrier between them.

"I just miss having my old XO boss me around, y'know." She smiled at some fond memory. Shepard found herself disgusted at Ashley's tone. Just months before she had spat in her face in Horizon, calling her a disgrace to humanity after she had just saved Ashley's sorry ass. The resulting scuffle only ended when it did when Miranda intervened. And also..

_Mark. _Though Ashley was here now, sucking up to Jennifer, she hadn't seen the two of them together since Horizon. She crossed her arms, contemplating the status of their relationship. Here Ashley was, almost groveling at her feet. But, she hadn't even seen her attempt to bridge the gap between her and her brother that had been wedged there violently by the Collector threat.

"Listen." Jennifer started, fighting hard to keep her tone neutral. "I've got stuff to do. Important, under house arrest things to do." She made a flippant gesture, and Ashley caught the drift.

"Right.. I understand." She kicked at the ground almost sheepishly before continuing. "If you're ever in the mess. Just… Don't be a stranger."

Shepard nodded rigidly, before stepping past the newly appointed officer. Though they hadn't made mention of it, the newly sewn on Lieutenant Commander patch on Ashley's PTs made Jennifer heart swell with pride.

_Seems like the Williams' curse is lifting, eh Ash? _

* * *

The small Alliance cruiser dipped and curved around incoming fire only sustaining minor damage to it's kinetic barriers. It banked left, dodging multiple incoming hostiles on a suicide trajectory. It took them out effortlessly with it's javelin launcher, exploding them into tiny fragments that would forever drift in the emptiness of space. It then zeroed in on it's primary target. A large geth dreadnaut-

"Captain-"

Loomed in the distance. It's hulking size in comparison to the buzzing cruiser didn't daunt the captain. He charged fearlessly towards it, charging up his Thanix cannon just as the dreadnaut made a desperate dash towards the relay nearby. But the smaller ship was quicker, locking in on it's positions and unleashing the full fury of it's reaper tech. The enemy vessel-

"Captain Shepard." The gruff voice behind Mark made him jump. He peeled his gaze away from the spacious window and towards the bulky junior officer addressing him.

Vega saluted him in greeting. Mark smiled back warmly, glancing once more at the child playing in the small patch of grass below him. The child held a small, figurine of a ship that eerily resembled the Normandy SR-1. He ducked and weaved, his mouth moving in what Mark assumed were mock sound effects of a heated battle.

Turning his full attention back to the Lieutenant, he saw that Vega had followed his gaze and was looking down at the boy. He met Mark's eyes and grinned.

"Seems like you've inspired a future sailor, Loco." Mark laughed heartily, slapping his friend on the back.

"I didn't do any of that fancy footwork they call 'flying'. My work was ground side."

"And one hell of a job you did with it," Vega's blatant admiration made Mark clear his throat uncomfortably.

"I just did what needed to be done. Luckily that wasn't flying. I don't know if I could even begin to pilot anything other than a taxi." Mark gestured dismissively, purposefully admitting his flaws in an attempt to derail the younger man's admiration.

"Well, I could give you a lesson some time. Let's just say I know a little something about the fancy footwork you mentioned earlier." Mark laughed again, feeling at ease with the shift of tone.

"You? A pilot? Doesn't that require delicacy? Finess? You look like you can't even put on your boots without ripping them in half." it was Vega's turn to laugh now. A light chuckled that originated deep in his chest.

"You'd be surprised. When I'm behind the helm of a Kodiak, I can make her purr." Mark gave him a skeptical look.

"We'll see about that, Lieutenant. Now I'm sure your reason for coming to see me wasn't just to brag about your piloting prowess." Vega shook his head, the smile on his face slowly becoming more and more mischievous.

"I may or may not have overheard some talk going on…" He began.

"Talk on a military base? Who did you bribe, Vega?"

"I'm serious, Captain. Let's just say I have friends in high places." Vega skirted the topic deftly, continuing on. "I heard from a very reliable source that your demotion has been denied. I just wanted to come here and share that news with you before I was beat to the punch." He smiled broadly at Mark, who stood there expectantly.

"And?"

"And what?"

"What about the other Shepard?" Vega was silent. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door, sighing as he did so.

"I don't know."

"I have a hard time believing that. If you know my fate, there isn't a way in hell you wouldn't know hers. That's the big news anyway." Vega shook his head again, gritting his teeth.

"Well, I didn't want to get into it." He scratched the back of his head, his eyes on the floor. "But, it doesn't sound good."

The silenced that followed was heavy. On one hand, Mark felt slightly elated by the news. His demotion or discharge from the military had been looming over his head for months. He was investigated and interrogated almost constantly the first month after the Normandy was surrendered over to the Alliance. It had all calmed down into a bored lull now, giving Mark time to stare out the window blankly and daydream, the threat moving to the back of his mind.

Any relief Mark felt was hurriedly swallowed up by shame when he remembered there was one person who had it worse than him. His sister couldn't even leave the base, unless she wanted to start the entire process over and turn her probable discharge into a certain one.

The emotional highs and lows he'd felt in just the span of a second nearly made his head spin. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the inevitable headache began creeping in, and with it the name of the only person who he wanted to turn to when his state of mind was as rocky as it was now entered his mind.

_Ashley._

He let out a heavy sigh, letting his hand fall from his nose to his sprouting beard. He stroked the stubble lightly, recounting all the times he'd seen Ashley since their last night on that forsaken shit-hole they had been stationed on for a few months before the collector attack.

Mark often thought it was a cruel twist of fate that him and Ashley were both plopped into the same base in Vancouver at nearly the same time. She adeptly avoided him, however. Her food became suddenly unappetizing when he entered the mess, and exercises abruptly finishing when he spotted her PTing in the early hours.

_Am I really surprised? Can I really blame her? Regardless, I'd do it all again if I had to._

A quiet beep roused Mark from his daydreaming (again). He turned back to Vega as he checked the pinging message on his omni-tool. Vega frowned and rubbed his chin as he read on, before speaking up.

"Well, back to work for me." His soft baritone returning to it's usual cheery state. He cast one final look out the window, but the boy they had spotted earlier was gone. His toy ship sat in the grass, abandoned and forgotten.

Vega leaned against the window, sighing wistfully.

"Wouldn't it be nice to go back to those days?" He trailed off, his eyes locked on something unseen in the horizon. His omni-tool beeped again incessantly, begging for his attention.

"Back before the Alliance had you on a leash?" Mark joked.

"Well I wasn't going to say it but.." They both chuckled quietly, happy to feel the tension lift between them.

"Go on ahead, LT. We'll talk later."

Vega nodded, saluting the senior officer and heading out the door. As the door closed behind him, Mark turned back towards the window again. He rested his head against the cool glass, closing his eyes as his thoughts returned once again to the plucky marine he'd picked up on Eden Prime.


	2. Peas and The Normandy

**A/N: Welcome back, readers! Just a friendly reminder that this fic is rated M. We've got a pretty violent chapter ahead of us, but in my headcannon the Mass Effect Universe is a pretty grim place. But, if you're up for it..ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!**

**.. In a moment. Just in case there is any confusion I'm just going to lay out right here who the Shepard twins are.**

**Captain Mark John Shepard: **Colonist, War hero, Soldier, Paragon.

**Commander Jennifer Jane Shepard: **Colonist, Ruthless, Infiltrator, Renagon.

**Their titles will change during some of the flashbacks, but I hope I make it easy enough to follow. Enough of my rambling though, time for ADVENTURE!**

* * *

_**August 23rd, 2170**_

_**Mindoir**_

_**Attican Traverse**_

The small family made its way through the ravaged settlement. Mark took point again, warily checking all corners before ushering his family forward. He adjusted his grip on the heavy carnifex frequently, its heavy weight uncomfortable. Their mother followed behind, she pressed Roy's face into her shoulder almost suffocatingly, not wanting him to see the scattered bodies that lay about the settlement. Roy didn't protest, taking all the comfort he could from his mother's warmth.

Jennifer took the rear, turning around to walk backwards every few paces to check that they weren't being pursued. With her family ahead of her, it gave her a chance to do a haunting task. As they preceded cautiously, Mark pointing the barrel of his weapon down every alley they passed, she'd throw her family furtive looks and roll over corpses they passed and examined their faces.

She grunted slightly as she rolled over the badly burned body of a man. She peered at it's face warily, but sighed her relief when she saw it's unseeing eyes. They were dark brown, not a piercing blue. She reached out and gently closed the man's eyes, it wasn't her father.

She started to stand, but immediately dropped to the ground as something buzzed by her ear. Up ahead she heard the frantic screaming of her brother.

"Get down! Get to cov-" Gunshots drowned out the rest of his order. Jennifer rolled, feeling dust pepper against her skin as projectiles hit the dirt below her. Her rolling was stop abruptly when her hip smacked against something hard. She cried out as searing pain radiated from her hip.

Mark turned as he heard his sister cry out in pain. his eyes scanned the debris behind him and caught a flash of red hair. He jumped and sunk down further behind the overturned fridge he was using as cover as a spray of bullets flew directly over his head.

He shot wildly over the fridge, making a pathetic attempt at suppressive fire. He shot until he heard a persistent beeping from his weapon. Instead of dispensing hot lead downrange, it let out a few unsatisfying clicks.

Mark pulled the weapon down and stared wide eyed at the steaming barrel. His overheated weapon sizzled slightly and assaulted his nose with the smell of burnt rubber. He blew on the weapon, desperately trying to cool it down as he heard the sound of the approaching slavers.

He could hear them advancing on his family. The sound of their boots and shouted orders made the pace of his heart quicken. He peered cautiously over the fridge and ducked back down as they fired on his position in response.

Mark slumped down next to his mother, her face ashen as she cradled Roy in her shaking arms. Roy's crying had gone hoarse as he clung to her fiercely. Mark glanced over at Roy, a sad smile on his face. He put his hand on his little brother's head, stroking his thin red hair gently.

"You be good," He whispered, planting a quick kiss on the small boy's head.

"Mark-" His mother began, her eyes widening in realization. Mark ignored her and stood from cover, depositing the cooling weapon as he stared down the bewildered Batarians only a few meters away.

"Mark!" His mother screamed, she grabbed at his arm as Mark dove away wildly behind a crate in front of him. He dove from cover to cover, a chorus of gunshots following him the entire way.

While diving behind a particularly large rock, he felt a shock wave that propelled him backwards. He fell to the ground and rolled twice, crying out at a sharp stinging sensation in his shoulder.

The Farmboy lay in the middle of the road, breathing heavily as pain radiated from his wound. He sat up, staring blankly at the blood that flowed steadily out of his shoulder.

_Oh man. I've been shot. Oh shit. OH SHIT._

He snapped out of it as he heard the distinctive sound of approaching footsteps.

A large Batarian male sauntered toward him, his shotgun held low. A cruel smile was etched on his face as he approached the wounded boy. Mark peered around him and stared blankly at the other Batarians. They all had their weapons trained on him as their comrade zeroed in on him.

The slaver's cruel smile never wavered as he placed the barrel of his shotgun almost gently against Mark's sun kissed forehead. He closed his eyes tightly.

_Please please please… I just hope after all this my family will be safe._

When a gunshot finally came he felt himself jump back, startled at the sudden noise. He opened his eyes just as the Batarian sagged forward, falling against him. He cried out and fell backwards, the dead Batarian's armored weight crushing him.

He struggled to get out from beneath the immense weight, feeling the sickening panic abate as he finally threw the corpse off of his lanky frame. He used his good arm to sit up, his eyes widened as he saw what had been the Batarian's undoing.

An automated turret was firing wildly on the scattering Batarian force. Mark stared open mouth at the turret as it tore into a fleeing Batarian. An Omni-tool lit up behind the turret, fingers brushed smoothly along the controls as the turret lined up another one of it's shot onto one of the Batarian bastards.

When the Batarians had scattered, Jennifer ran from behind the turret and towards him with a pronounced limp. She dropped to her knees beside him roughly, assessing his wounds and wasting no time. He stared at her open mouthed as she began tearing at his shirt. She ripped off his thick sleeve into a strip and tied it tightly above the bullet wound in Mark's upper bicep. The makeshift tourniquet began to stem some of the blood flow.

"How did you do that?" Mark said. His voice merely an astonished whisper. "Didn't they disable those turrets when they dropped down?"

Jennifer couldn't help but flash him a lopsided grin. "Vids aren't the only thing omni-tools are good for." She stood and extended her hand towards him, he reached out with his good arm and grunted as he was hauled to his feet.

The young tech expert glanced warily at body of the Batarian and tentatively pulled his shotgun out from under him. She extended it to Mark, who took it with a curt nod as she picked up the heavier assault rifle strapped to the corpse's back.

Jennifer studied it blankly for a few moments, running her hand over the chipped and scuffed frame. She looked up as she heard a scuff of boots as Mark stumbled, his eyes beginning to roll into the back of his head. She reached out to steady him.

"I'm okay," He reassured her in an unconvincingly, pain evident in his voice. He shook his head violently, trying to come back to his senses. Jennifer stared at him, worryingly but he averted her gaze.

He studied the shotgun in the same manner his twin had studied her weapon. It was badly beaten and he wasn't sure how well it would fire, but it was better than the sheers and dumb luck that they had wielded earlier.

He closed his eyes, taking a moment of solace before they were thrown inevitably back into the chaos that had taken over their home. Shots fired in the distance, accompanied with screams and the smell burning flesh. He pushed all his sensory input to the back of his mind as he focused on slowing his breathing and stealing his nerve.

Mark only emerged from this dream state when a rough shove from Jennifer pulled him to the ground. The rough shove was followed closely by a staccato of gunfire. Mark sighed as he pulled himself out of the comforting calm back into his first tastes of grim battle.

* * *

The sun had long set, leaving the colony in almost total darkness. Mark chewed at his lip nervously, fingering the safety of his shotgun. They'd taken refuge in one of the silos that surrounded the colony. They were surprised to find many of their neighbors also inhabiting the silo, hunkering down beside large bags of seeds and waiting for the danger to pass.

Mark squinted in the dim moonlight. His eyes wandered over to his family, making sure they were alright for what was probably the hundredth time since they had made it to relative safety. His mother spoke to a woman, tears running down her face as they discussed all that they had lost. He recognized the woman as Tevin's mother, but he made no move to approach her with news of her son.

_She probably already knows._ He thought to himself, watching the sad scene before him. _You have that kind of intuition about family… Just like I know that Dad is-_

He stopped that thought in its tracks, shaking his head violently. His dad could take care of himself, he was probably fine. He looked around for what was left of his small family.

Jennifer and Roy sat only a few meters away from Mark's position. His sister hugged the young boy fiercely, singing lullabies under her breath. Roy cried from time to time, but his cried were muffled Jennifer pressed his limp body against her chest and shushed him gently.

And his father, well…

No one had any news of John Shepard. Not a single person in the Silo could even pinpoint seeing him in all the chaos.

Mark returned his gaze to the barricaded door of the silo. He knew Jennifer expected the worst, and probably even his mother. But, the teenager was sure his father was alive out there, somewhere.

Suddenly Jennifer sat up straight, cocking her head to the side. Mark glanced at her, giving her a questioning gaze.

"Do you hear that?" She whispered, depositing Roy on his wobbly legs next to his mother. Mark shook his head, straining to hear.

Without another word, Jennifer ran out from behind the bags of peas and towards a small window. She pressed her face up against the glass as she looked skyward.

"The Alliance!" She cried out, turning back to Mark with her signature lopsided grin. A few quiet whispers started as more and more of the refugees in the cramped silo got up and made their way to the windows. Each one had a similar response when they saw the Alliance shuttles landing in the farming colony of Mindoir. They whooped and cheered, turning to their loved ones to embrace them. Before long, there was a full on celebration. People were cheering, dancing, and even Roy had an excited gleam in his Shepard blue eyes.

A loud banging sounded on the metal door. People crowded around the door, taking down the tools and bags of seeds that they had used to barricade the door. They all cheered loudly and joked then, their smiles taking up most of their dirt and soot covered faces.

The smiles were promptly erased when the first gunshots sounded within the silo. Mark's eyes widened as he saw the woman his mother had just been speaking with fall to the ground, blood spurting wildly out of a wound in the middle of her chest.

That's when the true chaos started. Mark fired at the door sparingly, afraid to hit the colonists, who were fleeing to every corner of their metal prison. He lined up his sights perfectly as the first Batarian stuck his head into their former sanctuary. His finger was about to squeeze the trigger and end the slaver's life as he was roughly pulled back.

He let out a pathetic yelp as he fell backwards and was dragged roughly. He looked up and saw Jennifer's frantic eyes as she pulled him along the slick metal floor. He pulled away from her then.

"What are you doing? We need to stop them!" Panic made his voice nearly an octave higher.

"We can't help them," Mark could hardly believe what he was hearing. His sister was just going to leave the people who had helped raise them die.

"We can try!" He countered as he narrowed his eyes at his sister challengingly.

"And we'll die too, there are too many!" She seemed to deflate then, understanding full well the implications of their decisions. "We can only help ourselves. Let's go."

She pulled on his good arm again. _Damn her,_ he thought. _And damn me for doing this. _

He followed her reluctantly as she led him towards a small window. Mark jumped as the sounds of glass shattering rang out in the silo. His had sister had broken the glass with the butt of her stolen pistol. She used the pistol to clear out the remaining glass in one smooth motion.

Without looking back she hauled herself up and out the small window. Mark watched her and heard a muted thud as her body made contact with the other side. He took that as his cue to follow. He cast a forlorn glance over his shoulder and he climbed up, grunting as he hauled himself up using his bad shoulder. He dropped down gingerly, and then he was on the other side.

He was greeted again by the familiar smell of smoke, but the scene had almost entirely changed. Twenty or so meters away two blue shuttles hovered a few feet from the ground, swaying slightly as it dispensed a small unit of marines into the ravaged colony. Their armor clanked noisily as they made their way to cover, firing shots at Batarians Mark couldn't see from where they were standing.

Jennifer made her way towards them, her limp causing her to run in an odd, staggering gait. Mark came up behind her and put his good arm around her shoulder for support. They leaned on each other, taking much needed reassurance from their twin. As they neared the shuttle, one of the marines turned to their direction as if startled.

"Civilians!" The stocky soldier yelled, pointing at the injured siblings. A few other marines peeled their eyes off the Batarians to see the hobbling duo. A few orders were shouted and suddenly marines surrounded them, corralling them towards the shuttle. Mark succumbed willingly as they almost dragged him towards the military vehicle. Jennifer cursed them, pushing them off of her.

"Where were you when we needed you?" She yelled. "So many people are dead! Where were you!?"

Mark glanced over at the faces of the marines. He expected to see anger their eyes, but there was only grim understanding. She was looking for someone to blame, but the only ones to blame were the Batarian's themselves.

They hauled the twins onto the shuttle, having to lift them up bodily in their weakened state. A few other wounded Mindoir colonist were huddled in the corner of the swaying shuttle, shaking from their ordeal. They looked up at Mark but avoided his gaze, pretending to find something interesting on the barren metal floor. He heard Jennifer let out a strangled gasp.

She turned to him, her blue eyes wrought with pain.

"Mom…" She whispered. Mark felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He struggled to breathe as the realization dawned on him. They had left their mother and brother in the silo. In all the chaos surrounding the initial contact, they had forgotten what was most dear to them. Mark felt like he was going to vomit.

Before he had time to fully process this, the marines he had seen fighting outside the shuttle began to board again, roughly pushing him as they scrambled inside.

"What's going on?" He asked the oldest looking of the marines.

"We have to get the hell outta here! There are too many of those four eyed freaks!" He exclaimed. He pushed passed Mark and made his way to the shuttle pilot, relaying the same orders to her.

"But, you can't!"

The middle aged man turned around questioningly then, eying the young girl who had spoken.

"Our family is out there! They will die or...or worse." Jennifer continued, tears flowing freely from her eyes as she choked back a sob.

"Listen, kiddo," The marine walked up to her then and placed his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, looking up at him defiantly. She swallowed hard as he met her gaze. The Officer sighed and continued.

"We're fighting ten to one out here. Now y'all knew you wouldn't have the Alliance to protect you out here. You're lucky we're even here at all now-"

His excuses were cut short as Mark's fist connected with his skull. The marine staggered a back a bit, not expecting the blow. The last of the marines were piling into the shuttle as the Alliance Marine stared down the farmboy.

"You've lost a lot of blood son, you should sit down." He said dangerously. Mark responded with a defiant gaze of his own, relaying all that he felt towards the officer in that moment. The staring contest ended when Mark heeded his advice, slumping down against the walls of the shuttle, his face ashen and dripping sweat. Jennifer stared out the open door of the shuttle, seemingly in a daze.

"For what it's worth... I'm sorry." The Commanding officer walked away from them then, taking his seat next to the shuttle pilot who had been watching the scene with a clenched jaw.

"Hey," A young, female voice roused Jennifer from her daze. She turned to the grunt with a blank expression. The woman's kind green eyes looked down into Jennifer's cold blue ones. She couldn't have been much older than Jennifer; her skin was vibrant even under the dust and sweat. The Corporal insignia on her hardsuit was also telling.

"I'm sorry.. about your family." The young Corporal began as she held a sniper rifle loosely in her gloved hand.

"It's not-" Jennifer's words were cut short as she saw movement from the corner of her eyes. She peered out the open door of the shuttle as a familiar shape came staggering towards them.

"Mom!" She called out, nearly throwing herself out the shuttle before the marine caught her. The shuttle had begun to float upwards, already beginning it's trajectory to the Citadel. Her mother ran towards them, Roy in her arms as she screamed frantically for the shuttle.

Her screams were cut short as a sniper round made it's way through her chest. Jennifer cried out as her mother fell to the ground in a heap, most likely dead before she even hit the ground.

"Batarian shuttles are closing in on our position." A strained voice sounded from the pilot's seat.

"Get us out of here!"

The soldier that had been trying to comfort Jennifer had lifted the scope of her sniper rifle to her eye. Shots rang out and Batarians fell to the ground in perfect synch, the sniper's accuracy showing.

Roy lay in the middle of a muddy field, his dead mother at his side. He reached his chubby arm up to the shuttle, screaming and red faced. Jennifer's eyes fell on the slavers closing in on his position. They made no move to draw their weapons on the frantic toddler.

She felt her heart sink. His fate was sealed, Roy was going to spend the rest of his life as a slave. She balled her hands into fists, feeling hatred and fury for the aliens that had destroyed her family with one foul swoop.

The next moments would never be clear for Jennifer. When she came to she was holding the Marine's sniper rifle. The formerly kind marines grabbed at her roughly, snatching the weapon from her and pulling her away from the open shuttle door. As they dragged her back, she cast one final look out at her former home. Roy lay in the same spot, his face now in the dirt. He wasn't moving.

As she was thrown roughly to the floor, she cast a glance at Mark for affirmation on what she had just done. He was staring at her like she was a monster, arms protectively around himself.

She couldn't say she blamed him.

* * *

_**September 2nd, 2186**_

_**Vancouver**_

_**Earth**_

_**Sol System**_

_I must be getting soft around the edges. _

Jennifer frowned at herself in the mirror as she struggled to put on her Alliance blues. She froze when the act of pulling her shirt over her head resulted in a muted ripping noise.

"Shit," She breathed exasperatedly, tearing the dress blouse off and examined the large hole she'd just made near the armpit.

While she was brooding over the "extra padding" that was the cause of the tear, the door to her small quarters swooshed open. Shepard didn't even look over as she heard a muted cry of embarrassment. She was standing in the middle of the room with only a sports bra and cargo pants on, so she didn't really blame her intruder for being a bit shy.

"You could have knocked." She said over her shoulder as she leaned down and picked up a plain white T-shirt from the floor.

"Sorry, Commander. It's urgent." She quickly threw the shirt on over her head and was in the process of tucking it in when she turned around to meet the Lieutenant.

"You're not supposed to call me that anymore, James."

He brushed her off, ignoring her words completely. "We gotta go. The Defense Committee wants to see you." She huffed in response, gathering her messy red hair into a ponytail and following the junior officer out the door.

"Sounds important." He nodded tensely in response. He was out the door and around the corner in only a few seconds, Jennifer found herself jogging slightly to keep up.

"What's going on, Vega?" She ventured, anxiety making the hair on her arm stand on end. She'd never seen the base so busy. Alliance personnel were walking in all directions, jostling each other without even so much of a muffled apology. A private nearly barreled into Jennifer. Normally the event would send a man of such low rank into a stammering apology, but he didn't even give her a second look and he jogged away.

"Couldn't say, they just said they needed you. Now." Shepard nodded, wishing she hadn't even asked. His response just heightened her anxiety. She balled her fist then relaxed them, repeating this motion in an attempt to calm herself.

_Calm it, Shep. You've got no idea what's going on. For all you know some hot shot Admiral just lost his puppy or something._

_Speaking of Admirals…_

"Anderson," She greeted warmly as he made his way over to them in the crowd. She extending her hand to her former CO, but his greeting wasn't quite as warm. He shook her hand rigidly, eyes wandering almost nervously around the gathering crowd.

"You look good, Shepard." He paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate something. "Maybe a little soft around the edges."

_You sure know how to make a girl feel good._

He continued on, oblivious to Jennifer's distressed expression as she looking down at herself. "How're you holding up since being relieved of duty?"

"It's uh, not so hard once you get used to the hot food and soft beds."

_Apparently I've been indulging in too much of both..._

"What's going on, why's everyone in such a hurry?" Admiral Anderson walked at an ever brisker pace than Vega, weaving expertly through the horde on an unstoppable trajectory to the Defense Committee.

"Admiral Hackett's mobilizing the fleets." Though he kept a calm facade, Jennifer could almost feel stress irradiating from the Alliance Admiral. "I'm guessing word's made it to Alliance Command, but something big is headed our way."

Jennifer stopped in her tracks. It took the Admiral a few steps before he realized the former Commander wasn't beside him anymore. He turned around, casting her a questioning glance. Jennifer stared up at him, her gaze unwavering as she asked the question she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to.

"Reapers?"

"We don't know, not for certain."

_Dammit, Anderson. When did you turn into a politician?_

"What else could it be?"

Anderson's gaze turned sad, but remained steady.

"If I knew that…"

Jennifer let out a frustrated growl, slamming the side of her fist against the nearest wall.

"It's the Reapers, I'm certain. And you know we're not ready for them."

"Tell that to the Defense Committee." And just like that Anderson slipped back into the crowd again, their allotted 'speculate over myths' time apparently spent.

_Don't be so cynical, Shep. You know he's one of the only people that even believe you. The rest of the general public is content to assume you're insane._

By the time she caught up to the Admiral again she felt a bit out of breath. He didn't seem like he was in the mood for conversation, but there was still more that Jennifer needed to know.

"Unless we're planning to talk the Reapers to death," -_probably the preferred method by some. _"-the Defense Committee is a waste of time."

"They're just scared. None of them have seen what you've seen."

"Or believe what I say."

He gave her a hard glare, irritation furrowing his brow.

"We've all reviewed your reports, seen the data you've collected, but it's all just a theory to us." When Jennifer opened her mouth again, he put up his hand to shush her.

"You can't expect the entire human race to side with one person's experiences." His gaze softened then as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "But, I for one believe you. And I know you've been there in the trenches. Fighting them. You know what they're capable of."

She shook off his hand instinctively, her anger not yet quenched.

"Is that why they grounded me? Took away my ship?" It was the Admiral's turn to stop in his tracks then. He held up a scolding finger towards Shepard.

"You know that's not true." He leaned in, his voice terse as he emphasized every syllable. "The shit _you've _done.. Any other soldier would have been tried, court-martialed, and discharged." Shepard found herself looking away and taking a step back, unable to hold the intensity of the older man's gaze. He eased up a bit, sensing her discomfort.

"It's your knowledge of the Reapers that kept that from happening…" Jennifer looked up then, a small smile lighting up her face.

"That, and your good word."

The smile didn't seem to have any effect on Anderson. He was all business, beginning to walk again at their quickened pace.

"Yeah, I trust you Shepard. And so does the committee." He stated matter-of-factly.

At the mention of the committee again, the irritation began to bubble up once more.

"I'm just a soldier, Anderson. I'm no goddamn politician."

"I don't need you to be either, I just need you to do whatever it takes to stop the Reapers." Before Shepard could respond, they walked through sliding doors and found themselves in a waiting room. They were led past the room by a young Specialist and into the main hallway that led to the Defense Committee.

"Good luck in there, Shepard." Jennifer turned around towards the voice and took Vega's outstretched hand. He'd stuck around behind them the entire time, electing to stay silent through the ups and downs of the conversation she'd just had with Anderson.

_Smart man._

His palm was sweaty, betraying his perfectly calm disposition. She gave him a reassuring nod, it was all she could do for him.

A few moments later, they found themselves in a spacious room, walking towards a C-shaped desk. At the desk the Defense Committee shifted nervously, passing data pads around and pointing even gasping at particularly startling bits of data. The news they were receiving was undoubtedly grim. On the side of the room, assistants whispered foreboding, one even weeping quietly.

"Admiral Anderson...Shepard." The man in the middle of the desk called out as he recognized the two soldier's approaching.

_Well, at least there is one person on this god forsaken base that doesn't call me Commander anymore._

"Sitrep." The members of the Defense Committee looked at each other warily - partially because of the situation and partially because they were being talked down to by an officer under investigation - before the same graying man that had greeted them spoke up again.

"We were hoping.. you would tell us." His voice wavered weakly.

"The reports coming in are unlike anything we've seen." Shepard glanced at the datapad that had been shoved into her hand, but only needed to glance. Whole systems had gone dark in a matter of hours. Distress beacons were abruptly cut off and followed with eerie silence. Colonies seemed to be swallowed up and spit out again in deep space for all the traces they had left.

"Whatever this is, it's incomprehensibly powerful." The graying man said, his tone morose and devoid of hope.

_Already hopeless._

Jennifer let the datapad fall to her side and turned her attention back to the committee. She felt anger boil up as she looked into their naive eyes. They wanted her to tell them that it was a false alarm, that she had really just dreamt up the Reapers in a drunken stupor and this was just a malfunction that a comms specialist should be looking into.

"You brought me here to confirm what you already know." She began. She paused, making sure she had the full attention of everyone in the room before continuing. Every set of eyes was on her, unblinking. They leaned in and waited for her to keep going.

"The Reapers are here."

* * *

"Ashley!" The Lieutenant Commander looked up as Mark padded over to her, dodging and weaving through the masses that crowded the hall. He beamed at her, putting as much warmth in his demeanor as possible. All the warmth was one sided considering the woman's gaze nearly gave him chills.

"Captain Shepard." She saluted him, her features strained.

"Still relieved of duty, technically. It's just Mark." She narrowed her eyes at him momentarily before returning her gaze to her omni-tool. She filtered through messages; each one was stamped with a beeping 'urgent'.

He stood there awkwardly, waiting for Williams to put down her Omni-tool and finally address him.

_Are we just going to pretend like we don't even know each other, Ash?_

Apparently so. She powered off her Omni, then immediately started to walk down the hallway.

"Ash! Wait!" She stopped, but didn't turn around. He could tell that she was bristling at the fact that he insisted on calling her by her first name, but there was something else that seemed to be eating her.

_And everyone else in this building, apparently. _

He continued on anyway, thankful at least she had stopped this time instead of walking on as if oblivious to his existence.

"What's going on? Why is everyone in such a hurry?"

"Something is going on right now. Something big. I don't have time to talk right now." She turned around and looked at him again, this time the stoic mask was gone. He saw intense worry in her eye as she ran her hand through her hair nervously.

_Last time I saw her this nervous, the collectors had just started harvesting civilians on Horizon. _

Realization dawned on him, making his stomach sink to his boots. Mark stepped closer, dropping his voice.

"Where's Jennifer?"

"She's speaking with the Defense Committee right now." She replied in a hushed voice, looking over her shoulder. "I've got to get to the Normandy."

"Wait, let me get Jennifer first. Let's see if she knows any more about what's going on." He stepped past her then, making his way to the sliding doors that separated him from the Defense Committee. Ashley watched him go, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip idly.

Just before he had made it halfway there, James Vega stepped out the doors looking unusual pale. He stammered a greeting to Shepard and Williams, giving them a halfhearted salute as he walked on. Mark paused as he watched the man pass by, concerned at the drastic change from his usual disposition. He was going to call out to the man, but then more pressing matters emerged.

In a matter of moments, Mark's entire world is engulfed in flames. He must have blacked out, one moment he had been standing in the middle of a hallway in Alliance HQ, worrying about his twin sister and a man that she affectionately referred to as her 'keeper'. The next moment he found himself face down on the cold metal floor, blood pooling around his face.

He sat up slowly as the ringing noise in his ears slowly turned into screams. The power in the facility had gone out, but as he looked up he saw that they had just renovated the place, about ten seconds ago. A jagged, charred hole made an almost cozy skylight and through it Mark saw their diligent carpenter at work.

A large, hulking insectoid towered above the tallest buildings in Vancouver, the northern tip of its frames even collided with the overcast skies. It walked careless through the city, knocking over small buildings and occasionally charging up its cannon for more precise genocide.

"Mark!" A voice called amidst the chaos. He turned towards it, feeling his head spin as he attempted to focus on the blurry form of Ashley Williams. She pulled him to his feet, having to bear most of his weight until he was fully on his wobbly legs.

"They're here?" He asked quietly, wiping the blood that was flowing freely from his broken nose. She nodded solemnly, pulling out a phalanx pistol that had been concealed beneath her clothing. He shifted his attention to his immediate surroundings. Charred bodies were strewn about the room, each being thrown a good distance from where the beam had struck. There were fewer bodies visible than had been standing in that particular area during the attack, though. Those men and women probably had the quickest, most merciful death that a Reaper would ever give them.

The path to the Defense Committee had been completely annihilated, leaving only a smoldering scar of molten metal and debris. he shivered at the pure destructive power that the reaper had just unleashed in a matter of moments. He turned his attention back to Ashley, who was also looking at the wreckage with gritted teeth.

"Are you hurt?" She shook her head.

"A few scrapes and burns. Nothing serious." She looked around for a moment, her eyes troubled. "Where's the Lieutenant?"

"James!" Mark called out, his voice echoing back to him in the empty hall.

"Here.." a weak reply came from an unassuming pile of rubble. Mark and Ashley made there way over and dropped to their knees by the pile, immediately digging into it. They threw metal and rock behind them until they recognized the form of Lieutenant James Vega, covered in dust. He coughed a few times as Ashley helped him into a sitting position.

"What..?" he trailed off, his eyes wide and confused in an almost childish way.

"Reapers." Shepard said soberly, the fog finally clearing from his head own head.

"Fuck," Mark and Ashley exchanged a worried look as Vega chuckled. "I was hoping that was all made up."

While Mark was helping Vega get dusted off and on his feet, Ashley suddenly brought her hand up to her earpiece.

"Admiral Anderson? Are you alright?"

{Lieutenant Commander Williams, is that you? What's your status?} Mark overheard from Ashley's comm.

"Yes sir. The path to you is cut off. The Normandy-"

{I can't raise the Normandy, you'll have to contact them. We'll meet you at the landing zone. Anderson out.}

"Aye aye." She turned her attention back on the two officers. Vega, while still shaky, was on his feet. He sported a large gash on his arm that bled readily, but other than that he seemed unharmed. He held his carnifex pistol at the low-ready, his eyes shining with fierceness and anger. It was a good change over the child like fear that had gripped him earlier.

"Let's move." Ashley said, slipping easily into a leadership role. Mark was content to let her, considering that his limited access in the HQ left him with no idea where to even go.

The Alliance personnel that had just been crowding the hall had scattered (or had been vaporized), leaving the trio to walk the halls in almost contemplative silence. Every few minutes the ground beneath them would vibrate violently as another Reaper found its foothold on Earth. And even more frequently the signature blaring howl of the Reapers could be heard, sending chills throughout Mark's entire body.

Eventually they made it to an open courtyard. Previously it had been used for combatives training, but now it was a more of a graveyard. Marines and husks alike lay side by side in the upturned dirt, their bodies not yet cold. Shepard felt himself grimace as they jogged past long, jagged spikes sticking up from the earth. Impaled on each one was an Alliance marine that Mark had lived among for the past six months. It was an incredibly cruel fate, but it was just a reminder that their enemy did not, and would never, show them any kind of mercy. Just as they had cleared the length of the open courtyard, a sputtering noise caused them all to turn on their heels quickly, Williams and Vega lifting their weapons while Shepard unsheathed his omni-blade. Instead of an incoming husk horde they instead found a young boy in an ill fitting hardsuit. He was alive, but he had absolutely no right to be. A large gaping hole marred his abdomen, the edges cauterized and unable to bleed. His inevitable death was coming slowly, and painfully.

_He can't be any older than 18..._

_It's not like the Reapers are selective with their carnage. _

Shepard dropped down next to him, applying medi-gel that Ashley had supplied him earlier to the boy's wounds. Just enough to numb the wound at least, enough to ease his passing._  
_

"C-C..Cap.."

"Don't speak, Soldier. Rest now. You've earned it." The kid weakly saluted him then, straining from the effort. It sent him into a weak coughing fit, broken intermittently by pitiful gasps.

"Shepard... We don't have time." He heard Ashley call behind him regrettably. Mark glanced over at her and nodded understandingly. When his head turned back to the marine, his eyes were met with blank eyes, starring up at the sky vacantly. Mark reached down and closed the dead boy's eyes, then followed Williams and Vega to the LZ.

They had only moved a few steps before they were forced into cover.

Cannibals were waiting around the corner in an ambush. As they rounded the corner to the LZ, one let out a gaping cry alerting it's comrades. The others turned to them quickly, opening their mouths impossibly wide in what Shepard interpreted was a battle cry. He barely made it behind a toppled pillar before rounds were headed his direction. He hunkered down behind the remains, trying to make himself impossibly small. Williams knelt next to him, occasionally popping up to throw a few rounds downrange.

{Lieutenant Commander, do you read me? I'm patching in Shepard.}

{What's your status, Williams?} Jennifer's voice rang out strongly over the comm.

_Thank God she's alright._

"We're almost to the Normandy. I've got Lieutenant Vega and Captain Shepard with me, but we're taking heavy fire." She replied into the comm, having to raise her voice over the gunfire. She attempted to poke her head above cover and ascertain how many hostiles were left, but she was immediately forced back down by the resulting gunfire.

"Son of a bitch," She growled in frustration.

The sound of an explosion brought Mark's eyes skyward. An Oculus was chasing down an smoking Alliance fighter that seemed to be stuck in a downwards trajectory. The orb fired again the fighter, this time it was unable to dodge the incoming fire due to the damaged it had sustained. It exploded midair, raining pieces of metal and debris onto the Alliance marines. Most of it flecked harmlessly off of Shepard's skin, but one particularly pointy piece caused him to jump back as it landed next to him, clattering nosily on the concrete.

The Batarian husks hadn't been so lucky. The bulk of the small ship landed directly onto most of the cannibal squad, crushing them. The rest of the squad was wiped out from the resulting shrapnel.

Williams and Mark stared at the wreckage in shock. Part of Mark wanted to cheer and whoop, but the other part of him knows he just watched the end of a pilot's life.

{We're about five minutes out...Husks!} Anderson voice buzzed noisily in Ashley's comm.

"Doesn't look like they're getting it any easier." She said, hoisting herself over the barrier they'd used for cover. Mark and Vega followed, the Normandy finally in sight.

They had been aboard the Normandy for all of two minutes before she had taken off. The three of them packed into the elevator, breathing heavily from the mad sprint across the LZ. Mark leaned against the wall, rubbing it gently.

_It's been awhile, old girl._

When the elevator reached the CIC he wasting no time, grunting as he squeezed through the elevator doors before they had time to open all the way. He ran through the CIC, startling the skeleton crew that had been in the Normandy at the time of the attack. When he reached the bridge, he clapped Joker on the shoulder affectionately. Joker looked up startled, then smiled at the familiar form of Mark Shepard.

"Long time no see." He said casually, before returning his view to the Normandy's controls. Though Mark was no pilot, a quick glance at the interface told them there were five hostiles on their tail. Joker banked expertly, weaving between the tall buildings and even a Reaper's legs. Mark sat in the co-pilot seat, strapping himself in just as Joker banked again, this time in the opposite direction causing Mark to nearly fall out of the seat.

{Lietenant Commander Williams, we're in sight of the spaceport. ETA 3 minutes!} Anderson's voice buzzed over the Normandy's comms.

"Oh shit. Oh shit. OH SHIT." Joker's voice rang out in the cockpit.

"What is it?" Mark asked, tightening his grip on the hand rest. Before Joker could answer, Ashley's voice sounded in the comms again.

{We've made it to the Normandy, taking heavy fire... Oh God. They're going to take out that dreadnought.. Evasive maneuvers!}

An Alliance dreadnought hovered a couple hundred meters away from the Normandy. It sported smoking scars from an onslaught of Oculus drones, but now Mark saw what had made Ashley and Joker panic. A Reaper Capital Ship was charging up it's cannons... Its cannons that were aimed directly at the dreadnought. The resulting explosion would tear the Normandy to pieces at this range.

"No need to tell me twice! Hold onto your ass, Shepard!"

Mark felt himself flatten against the seat as the Normandy accelerated to top speeds possible in atmo. A few moments later, an explosion sent the Normandy into a series of rolls. They lost altitude fast, sending the Normandy in headlong into the ground. At the last possible second, they righted themselves. Only a hundred feet above the Vancouver bay, only sustaining minimal damage.

"_Shields at 22%_" A flat voice notified them.

"Thanks, EDI... I think I just peed myself." Joker said quietly, bringing the Normandy up to a suitable altitude. Suddenly Ashley was in the bridge, her face set in to a grim line.

"We lost contact with Anderson and Shepard." She said morosely. Though must was unsaid, it was clear she assumed the worst. The bridge descended into an eerie quiet.

"What do we do, Ma'am?" Joker pipped up as his hands slid over the Normandy's controls smoothly, still dodging and weaving Reaper air support. Ashley was silent for a moment, looking down at the floor and biting her lip.

"We need to get to the Citadel... The Captain's a Spectre, maybe the council will help Earth."

"Like hell." Mark stood, standing toe to toe with Ashley. "The fight's here."

"You should know better than anyone, Shepard. We can't do this alone. Humanity needs help."

"This coming from the woman who doesn't even consider the council races allies. The same woman who said humanity needs to stand on its own."

"That was a long time ago!"

"I'm the ranking officer on this ship and I say we aren't leaving, _Lieutenant Commander_."

"You're not even cleared for duty, _Shepard._" Mark narrowed his eyes dangerously at Ashley. Her gaze was just as unyielding, raw anger almost seeped from her pores.

"Uh, guys." Joker said timidly, turning in his chair to meet their eyes. "I found them."

* * *

**A/N: Be sure to leave a review if you see something you love or didn't really love. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Shitty Coffee and Blue Asari

_****A/N: Hello again, Readers! Just want to make a quick note to all the people who have, reviewed, favorited, and followed this story of mine. It means a good deal to me that even a few you you like it enough to come back for more. And it's a good thing you have come back for more because you get even more ADVENTURE!****_

* * *

_**November 11, 2177**_

_**Interplanetary Combatives Academy**_

_**Earth**_

_**Sol System**_

He sipped tentatively at the coffee in his hand. The cold, bitter liquid slid down his throat and sat uneasily in his stomach. He coughed at the acidic taste and pressed his lips into a thin line.

_For such an important Alliance base they have some pretty shitty coffee. _

The irritated thought repeated in his mind as he stepped out of the elevator onto the busy floor. He walked briskly through the rush of people, warily returning formal salutes that were thrown his way by enlisted soldiers eager to please.

He made his way past the busy consoles and chattering men and women towards one of the small secluded conference rooms on the side. As the door open he felt his sour mood darken even further. A young Specialist sat in a desk chair, his feet propped up and resting on a powered off console. He cringed internally as he recognized the careless kid.

"Hey, LT." Specialist Ives said, raising his own coffee cup.

"Specialist," Shepard replied shortly, taking a seat in one of the other seats and facing the large screen on the wall. On half of the console it shows an overhead view of a forest. Clusters of dots were scattered in the forest, each with a corresponding alpha numeric. He scanned the codes until he found one that sparked a memory.

JS99144

The other half of the screen was a series of cameras that were hidden in the trees. The switched periodically to catch a better view of the point of interest. Weary soldiers trekked through the underbrush in loose formation. At the head of the formation, a familiar grimace stared directly into one of the cameras.

"Here to check on the sis?" Ives asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Second Lieutenant Jennifer Shepard gestured her soldiers forward, taking point as they closed in on another cluster of dots. This cluster of dots, unlike the one he associated with the candidates in training, was a pulsing a vibrant red. Mark leaned forward, peering questioningly at the odd formation his sister had formed her soldiers in.

"It's about time she got into N-school," The specialist continued unwittingly.

"What is she doing?"

"What?" The Specialist turned his attention back to the screen. The green dots had begun assaulting the red dots. They ran in the middle of the red dots, splitting the enemy forces but putting themselves out in the open.

They watched in silence as the enemy dots disappeared one by one with only a few of the green dots flickering out as well. He turned his attention to the camera as his sister began gathering intel and tending to her mock wounded.

"Wow, that was risky," The young specialist stood and stretched, the show now over.

"Well, that's Jennifer Shepard." The young Lieutenant rubbed his cheek, feeling the coarse stubble and with it the urge to shave.

"Some would say that's why it took her so long to commission," Ives said offhandedly, typing into the console that his feet had been propped on only a few moments earlier. "But, if she makes it through this you can say there are two N7's in your family. That's quite an achievement."

The newly graduated N7 nodded, feeling his relief as the small squad made their way back to their patrol base. He could tell by her shuffling gait that his twin sister was in desperate need of rest. But nevertheless, she trudged on, her determination to prove herself more powerful than her exhaustion.

Mark felt his heart swell with pride at his sister, and then felt it immediately sink as he realized the frustrating specialist was speaking to him again.

"So, Shepard." The specialist began, clearing his throat nervously.

"Sir," Shepard corrected.

"Right, Sir. So about your sister," He trailed off, glancing at the screen. "I talked to her a few times during her orientation. Nice girl." Mark grit his teeth, knowing where this was going.

"No," Mark said candidly.

"N-no?" The Specialist stuttered, his eyes wide and confused.

"I guarantee you my sister would rather mud wrestle with a Krogan before she went on a date with you," Mark couldn't help but let out a chuckle. While it sounded like an exaggeration, he wouldn't put it past her..

"Oh, Well I didn't mean- I was just..." Ives slumped forward, seeming to deflate.

Shepard couldn't help but be amused by the situation. More times than he could count sprightly young men had come to him for advice on how to talk to his 'aloof' and 'mysterious' sister. He didn't have the heart to tell them that she was neither, she just plain didn't like them. He'd later relay their requests to Jennifer just to watch the look of disgust on her face.

Mark checked his omni-tool for the time.

_0610, time for work, Marine._

He thought with an inward sigh. He stood and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Don't take it too personally."

Ives nododed, his overgrown hair bobbing slightly. "Sir, Yes Sir!" He saluted smartly. Mark nodded at him, responding with a quick salute back.

He cast the screen one final look, then strode out of the room to his duties. _One more week, then I've got leave on Elysium. _The thought was enough to bring a smile to his lips, if only for a moment.

* * *

Jennifer Shepard was pissed. Royally pissed. She had been woken up after only a few minutes of the first sleep she'd had in two days. The candidate who had been chosen to lead the first mission of the day had skipped out. He wasn't cut out for the Academy, which normally wouldn't bother Shepard at all. They only had a certain number of spots open for N2 anyway.

_If I didn't have to take his fucking place._

She stifled a yawn as the V.I. in front of her briefed her on the mission. She looked over to her men as the V.I. droned on and on. They tended to their weapons with sluggish movements, periodically rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.

They were all exhausted, their armor was smudged and decorated with a criss cross of scratches. Twenty days in the brutally hot forests of the Amazon and they were all reaching their limit. She took a long swig from her canteen and a large bite from a protein bar she was able to scrounge up from a particularly generous marine.

"-Lieutenant Shepard." She looked up as she heard her name at the tail end of a sentence. The V.I. sat infront of her patiently, unaware of her inattentiveness.

"Repeat that?" She asked tentatively, afraid this was going to give her a bad mark.

"I simply inquired if you had any other questions about the task at hand, Second-Lieutenant Shepard."

"Oh, right. Uh, negative."

Shepard scratched the back of her head as she pulled up a map of the area on her omni-tool. The smooth glove of her light armor offered little traction as she sought to soothe her matted scalp.

The map before her showed the dense Amazon forest, their current patrol base was highlighted with a blue circle and the enemies last known location was highlighted with a larger more daunting red circle.

She studied the map, running multiple scenarios through her mind. She already knew her mission. conduct an area recon on the enemy base. They were searching for a high value target, if it was present they were to take it out discreetly as to not give away their position in the thick brush. She scoffed lightly.

_This is basic training stuff._

Her thoughts were cut off when she heard the discrete pitter-patter of liquid hitting the soft mulch that covered the amazon floor. She whirled around, trying to pinpoint the unusual sound. She peered cautiously around a parked Mako that marked the edge of the patrol base, her hand on the hilt of her predator pistol. Out in the open a soldier stood, pissing carelessly into the dirt.

Shepard scowled at his lack of caution. He did not have a battle buddy and he was out of the protective bounds of the base. She wouldn't care if it wasn't for the fact that if the bastard got shot during her command she would be the one catching flack. When the candidate zipped up and turned around she recognized him immediately from orientation.

"First-Lieutenant Leng," she said neutrally. He dipped his head cordially as he walked past her, but offered no other response. He seemed to have no reaction that the woman had caught him pissing in a bush. Shepard continued despite being shrugged off.

"I'm leading the next mission." She began, watching as the man walked away as she spoke directly to him. "You're in charge of the patrol base."

He stopped then, turning around and narrowing his eyes at her. She threw up her hands defensively.

"Hey, I don't make the rules. Take it up with the Admiral if you've got a problem." He sneered at her, shaking his head in a condescending manner.

"I just don't understand why they would ever put me _under _you," Shepard felt her jaw twitch involuntarily. His cockiness wasn't settling well with her. She strode up to him, standing toe to toe with him and looked up into his eyes.

"Regardless of why, I'm still in charge. Show some respect." Leng stared down at her, his demeanor never changing.

"Aye, aye." He muttered sarcastically, giving her a lazy salute. He about faced abruptly and walked back towards the middle of the base, leaving the irritated LT to fume on her own.

"Dick," she muttered under her breath as she followed Leng, preparing to brief her chosen squad on the upcoming mission.

* * *

Jennifer swatted at a mosquito irritatedly as sweat dripped uncomfortably down her face. She was laying on the soft dirt of the forest, peering into the enemy base with her scope. She zoomed in, taking in the scene before her.

The "enemy" casually walked back in forth in their base aimlessly. She zoomed in on each individually, trying to find anything noteworthy among the identical V.I.'s.

To her left and right flanks other cloaked soldiers were mirroring her actions. Jennifer noted in her head how smoothly this operation was going. Although she had settled into her nook first, she hadn't heard a single sound from the marines under her command. She had definitely picked the right team for the job. If this was a real mission with sentient enemies downrange, it would easily be just as successful.

As she silently praised her marines, a voice buzzed in her earpiece.

{Lieutenant Shepard?}

"What is it, Sharpe?" She muttered testily. Keeping her eyes on the enemy incase they managed to pick up her discrete whispers.

{We've got incoming from the rear-} Shepard automatically tightened her grip on her sniper rifle, preparing to roll over and lay down any hostiles on her six.

{-But they're friendlies.}

The Alliance Officer froze. Why would another squad be heading up this way? She had specifically instructed them in her briefing that their only duty would be to hold their base, not run off and fuck up while she was their commanding officer.

She could hear a rustling through the underbrush, and with her she could feel her blood boiling. She sat up as a rush of Alliance soldiers ran past her and straight into the base she had been subtly scouting. She watched in awe as they haphazardly ran into the fray, barely even bothering to seek cover.

She blinked a few times, staring slack jawed at the scene before her.

_They're taking the base by force_. _This recon just turned into a raid._

"Shit." She muttered under her breathe before propelling herself off her perch and into the chaos below. She wove between the sprawling amazonian trees, hugging her light-rifle tightly. The fake weapon was almost as cumbersome as a the real deal, but it lacked the definitive _umph_ when the trigger was pulled.

She crashed down next to one of her marines, ducking her head to dodge the incoming fire. When she asked the marine what the hell they were doing here, he cast her a puzzled look.

"Leng said he had orders from you to go in hot," He said simply, like it was something she should have already known.

Hot anger rose up in their throat as the other candidates words sunk in.

_That fucker is trying to sabotage my mission!_

The Lieutenant used her anger to propel an overload to the nearest V.I.'s from her omni-tool and promptly put a light round into its transparent head. It was still flickering out as she was throwing light rounds at a cluster of enemies taking cover behind a few conveniently placed chest high walls.

The marines made quick work of their enemy as they outnumbered them three to one. After the fighting was over they moved quickly, tending to the casualties and checking the crates for food or anything else useful. Shepard made no move to help them, but instead approached a rather smug looking Kai Leng.

"What the fuck was that all about, Leng?" She hissed under her breath, not wanting the other marines and especially those watching on the cameras to know how he'd undermined her authority. His smug smile never left his face as Jennifer stared him down. Her body language was enough to tell she was fuming.

"What are you talking about?" His smile grew wider after the innocent question left his sneering lips.

"You fucked up my entire mission, Leng!" Her voice was growing louder now. A few of the soldier's surrounding them had turned to watch the exchange.

Jennifer looked around self consciously as Leng spoke up again.

"Isn't this what you wanted me to do Shepard?" He crossed his arms and leaned back, perfectly content. "There must have been some… _miscommunication_."

His deliberate word choice made the former colonist falter. There was only one thing that was more detrimental to a candidate's success than bad orders. Miscommunication was heralded as the deadliest sin among the academy. Even if orders were solid, not being able to communicate them properly could get subordinates killed.

She realized then that he had her by the balls. She was responsible for the entire platoon and its actions. If she tried to explain to Admiral Hale, Leng would throw her under the skycar with his miscommunication claim.

Jennifer grit her teeth as she scowled at the young man, her hatred evident in her furrowed brow and cold eyes. She spun around quickly and addressed the other marines who were waiting on orders and watching them curiously. As she limped back to their patrol base, her mind traced through all the instructions in her mission. She couldn't think of anyway to justify Leng's actions (or rather her actions) as sound.

She mulled over this as she approached the V.I. that was acting as her Commanding Officer. She prepared herself for the reprimanding she was going to get, and the inevitable expulsion from the Academy.

_Fucking Kai Leng. _

She fumed as the V.I. began to recount what her mission had been. She tuned it out again, too busy picturing all the ways she'd kill Leng before she got out of this dump.

"-mission was a success." The words brought her out of her pleasant daydreams. She stared wide eyed at the VI.

"It.. was?" She uttered in disbelief.

"The special target was identified and eliminated. You were successful, Second-Lieutenant Shepard."

She stared at the humanoid shaped V.I., stunned. It continued none the wiser.

"Admiral Hale would like to speak with you before you are dismissed." The V.I. shimmered out and replaced by the grimacing form of the middle aged Admiral. He was young for an Admiral, but he still had the trademark stick up his ass.

He regarded the LT levelly, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked her up and down.

"Second Lieutenant Shepard, I assume?" His gravelly drawl would have been soothing, if not for the prominent anxiety that Jennifer felt for being called in front of the Admiral. In all the missions that had gone on for the past few days, this was the first time anyone had been asked to speak with the Admiral directly. She stood at a rigid parade rest, before speaking up.

"That's me, Sir." She replied cautiously, trying not to falter under his harsh gaze. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief as she was freed under his scrutiny. His eyes averted to a data pad as he continued to address her.

"Good work out there, Candidate. Though I have some concerns about your approach."

"Sir?"

His gaze returned to hers, his serious eyes somehow even more daunting.

"The lives of your marines are not expendable. Try to remember that and don't let your ruthlessness get your entire unit killed in the future. Hale out."

The image winked out promptly leaving her to stand for a few moments on her weary legs, blinking rapidly. She stifled a particularly large yawn, then was shooed out of the clearing by a particularly eager candidate waiting on his mission. As Jennifer shuffled away from the V.I. and towards her bedroll, the last thing on her mind was the Admiral's warning. They would only enter her mind again two years later, and she'd wish she had heeded the advice.

* * *

_**September 2, 2186**_

_**Vancouver**_

_**Earth**_

_**Sol System**_

It was an odd feeling knowing you could die at any moment. Though Jennifer Shepard had spent most of her entire life as a frontlines Marine, she still wasn't quite used to the concept. One false move, one overeager rush to cover or even one warily peek around a corner, and it could just all be over. All she worked for, all she fought for would just vanish and be replaced by a bullet lodged into her skull.

As someone who has had many brushes with death - _And one that's maybe more than a brush.. - _it was assumed she was fearless. All people saw was the way that she'd throw herself into a battle boldly.. almost recklessly. They assumed she always knew what to do, as her instincts kicked in and she came out of a mission with nary a scratch. She was a Shepard after all. But, as the Normandy lowered itself close to the ground, opening up the ramp to its shuttle bay, she realized that all these things were false. She was scared. Scared **shitless**. The Reapers en mass were more powerful than anything she'd ever seen. They cut through the entirety of Earth's defenses before humanity even knew what was happening. Thousands had died within the twenty minutes it had taken her to get to the Normandy before her very eyes. And with all of that, there was one part about this entire invasion that scared her the most.

_I have no idea what to do._

The Officer threw herself deftly across the small gap between where the Normandy gently hovered and the raised platform made by a building that had been kicked over carelessly into the bay by a preoccupied Reaper. She landed oddly, hissing in pain as she put pressure on her previously rolled ankle. In a moment Ashley was at her side, steadying her.

"Welcome back, Commander." She said warmly, somehow casting her a small smile despite everything before lifting her rifle towards the battleground below. Jennifer nodded, then turned her attention back to Anderson. He stood on the platform, regarding Jennifer with an odd expression. She stared back at him, confusion narrowing her expressions.

"Come on!" She said, unable to keep her annoyance out of her voice.

_It's not like we've got all day, Anderson._

"I'm not going." He said with finality, raising his voice over the sounds of a landing Alliance shuttle. When her questioning look turned angry, he continued. "You saw those men back there. There are a million more like them, and they need a leader." he gestured towards where they came from. Where a soldier with a crushed leg had screamed in agony as his comrades tried to hush him. They would have been ripped apart by cannibals if Shepard and Anderson hadn't intervened. Right now the resistance was scrambling for air as if they had just been pushed roughly into a pool with weights on their legs. The only way they would hold out against Reaper forces is if they were organized.

_But, even more valuable than an experienced Admiral.. is an experienced Admiral and the best goddamn ship in the Galaxy._

"We're in this fight together, Anderson!"

He shook his head firmly. "It's a fight we can't win. Not without help."

"Anderson..."

"Shepard, listen to me. We need every species, all their ships to even have a chance at defeating the Reapers. I need you to talk to the Council. Convince them to help us."

"They haven't been too keen on listening to me in the past." Jennifer spat harshly. "If they had been, maybe we'd all be more prepared." Anderson continued on, ignoring her second comment.

"Then make them listen. Now go, that's an order!" She felt a tug at her lips as she looked down at the formidable man below her.

"I don't take orders from you, remember?" He dug into his pockets in response, pulling out a small medal object and tossing it to the other officer. Before she caught it, she saw a glimpse of a silver N7 and smiled widely.

"Consider yourself reinstated, _Commander." _

She stared down at her tags, running her finger lightly across the red and silver indentions. She stowed them in her pockets before turning grimly back to Anderson.

"I'll come back for you, and I'll bring every fleet I can!" She called down, as the Normandy began ascending into the smoky sky. Anderson was already moving, wasting no time and sprinting away towards smoldering ruins below, most likely to rendezvous with the incoming shuttles. Jennifer caught one final glance of him as he disappeared behind the closing metal ramp.

_Good luck._

An uneasy silence settled in the depths of the Normandy's hull as it left the Earth's turbulent atmosphere. Jennifer glanced around her suspiciously, meeting the eyes of confused crew. When she saw the questioning eyes of a shuttle pilot, she realized why they were looking at her oddly. A pair of pale arms wrapped themselves around her neck tightly. She glanced over her shoulder at the boy, but instead of his face she only saw his wispy auburn hair. His head was buried firmly into her shoulder even after the danger had passed.

She eased him off her back, prying his pale arms from around her neck. When he was on his own two feet, he seemed to regain his senses. His head whipped around rapidly, trying to take in all the details of his unfamiliar surroundings. His face was covered in ash, and coupled with the charred edges of his clothing it was clear he'd survived an explosion. When his lip began to quiver pathetically, Jennifer threw Ashley a desperate glance. Ashley rolled her eyes in response to her incompetence before dropping to one knee next to the sniveling kid.

"Hey, kid. What's your name?" Her husky voice was somehow soft as she addressed the trembling boy.

"R-Ryker." He pulled on his hoodie nervously, but seemed to relax somewhat under Ashley's gaze.

"Hey there, Ryker." she smiled at him, but he didn't seem to be able to return the gesture. "You're safe now, Okay? We're on our way to the Citadel. Have you ever been there?"

He shook his head but didn't speak.

"Well, it's a big space station where you'll be safe." She attempted to put her hands on his shoulder, but he flinched away. Ashley began to apologize, but the wooshing of the elevator door drew her attention. When Jennifer glanced over, she saw Mark Shepard clad in a standard issue Alliance hardsuit, a helmet in one hand and Avenger assault rifle in the other. Behind him a flustered James Vega trailed at his heels, spouting questions with every step.

"Where are we going? What the hell is going on? We can't just leave Earth!" The Captain ignored him until the Lieutenant grabbed at his shoulder. "Hey!"

"We're leaving, Lieutenant."

"Bullshit. Anderson wouldn't order us to leave!"

_Actually... _

Jennifer glanced over at Ashley who was calmly watching the two men argue. She didn't seem very keen on jumping to Shepard's defense. Instead she crossed her arms, her eyebrow slightly raised.

"Not an order from Anderson. I got these orders straight from Admiral Hackett." From Jennifer's perspective, it looked like her brother thought these words would end the conversation. Orders were orders, but however Vega wasn't satisfied.

"But, how can we just leave?" Captain Shepard turned on his heels then as he let out an exasperated growl.

"Hackett was right, we don't have a choice. Without help this war is already over." Vega grit his teeth visibly, taking a step forward dangerously and lowering his tone.

"Forget it. Drop me off someplace because **I'm not **leaving."

Mark balled his fist as he stood toe to toe with the other man. Vega's eyebrow twitched involuntarily under the Officer's gaze, but to his credit he didn't falter.

"Don't you think I'd rather stay and fight?" His voice was almost sad. "We're going. If you want a ride back to Efarth we can do it when we actually have the time." Without another word he stepped past Vega and towards the two women that had watched the entire ordeal. He seemed somewhat distracted as he approached them.

"Williams and Shepard, I need you two to get suited up to go groundsid-" He stopped in his tracks as his eyes fell on the young boy standing out of place in a warship. His eyes went from back and forth from Jennifer and Ashley, a million questions racing across his face. Jennifer gestured to him, the meaning clear.

_We'll talk about it later._

He didn't seem very satisfied with that answer. But, when he opened his mouth for further questions Ashley interrupted.

"Why do we need armor for the Citadel?" Her voice was tinged with subtle worry. Jennifer nodded and raised her eyebrows at her brother, silently asking the same question.

"There's been a change of plans. We're dropping in on Mars. ETA seven minutes."

* * *

Wind buffeted the shuttle roughly as it made it approach towards the LZ of the Mars archives. Mark Shepard held onto the handrail as the inertia dampeners were overcome by an exceptionally large shove. Vega apologized under his breathe for the turbulence.

"How long until that storm hits?" The Captain peered out the window at the foreboding clouds in the distance. Every few seconds a flash of lightning would spread through the entire billowing mass.

"Thirty minutes, tops." Vega said soberly, eyeing it nervously. The tension between the two of them had eased somewhat, but Vega still bristled noticeably when his newly appointed CO spoke to him.

Mark blew out his nose aggrevatedly as he watched the storm approach. He glanced over his shoulder at his chosen squad. His executive officer sat hunched over tapping furiously onto her omni-tool before a fresh omni-blade unseathed itself. She studied it for a few moments, her brow furrowing at the strange new addition to her arsenal. She tested the tip with her gloved finger, and seemed satisfied when it sheared her light armor and part of the skin beneath it. While she stared the blood on her finger intently, Mark's eyes drifted towards her cheeks. Long horizontal scars decorated much of her cheeks, letting out an eerie orange glow in the low light of the shuttle.

Her scars had always unsettled him, marring a face that had once been his sister.

_She's still my sister..._

He reassured himself on this point frequently but he wasn't sure how much he really believed it. The woman he had met on Horizon had claimed to be his sister, but she was an angry shadow of the woman he had served with on the Normandy SR-1. She lashed out angrily at him when we expressed his doubts, and had even ended up scuffling in the dirt with Ashley. While he'd never say that Jennifer was ever good at playing nice, this new Jennifer didn't even seem to know the concept of nice. She had assured him time and time again that Cerberus did nothing to rewire her brain, but there wasn't anything else he could attribute the change in her behavior to.

_Well except for once thing... Or person rather._

He'd gone back and forth on the decision to tell Jennifer of Dr. T'soni's presence on Mars. Though his sister had never made public about her relationship, Mark had a hunch. After the times he'd seen her discreetly leaving the Asari's quarters beyond the medbay, his suspicions may have been more than just a hunch. She never mentioned it to him so he never brought it up in casual conversation. Considering he was fostering his own blooming relationship that didn't exactly line up with Alliance regs, he was more than happy to avoid confrontation.

The thought of Ashley made his eyes flicker to her momentarily. She held her head back against the seat behind her, eyes closed and her mouth moving in a silent prayer. He watched her for a few moments, feeling a bit intrusive as he looked on such a private display of faith.

_It's amazing how even after starring down the cannon of a Reaper, she still doesn't lose her faith._

When he brought his eyes back to his sister he jumped involuntarily. Her hard eyes were staring directly at him. She cocked her head questioningly but Mark was transfixed by something else. At such a close proximity he could spot three dancing orange lights in each of her irises. They would glow bright, then dim again in an intermittent pattern. Something about the orange glow in her Shepard blue eyes made her gaze even more unnerving.

He tore his gaze away as the shuttle landed roughly on the rocky surface of Mars. He quickly slid on his helmet, then propelled himself out of the sliding doors. He crouched on the ground, scanning the horizon with his sights as the rest of his squad exited the vehicle on either side of him.

"Have we gotten any response from the scientist in the Archives yet, EDI?" Captain Shepard put a hand to the side of his helmet as he spoke into his comm.

{The base appears to be online, but I have still not received a response. It's possible the inhabitants were evacuated.}

Jennifer scoffed next to Mark lightly. _  
_

_Another good reason to not mention that Liara T'soni was here._

"Any signs of Reaper activity?" The other Shepard spoke this time, impatiently tapping her foot.

{Negative}

"Then what are we waiting for?" And with that, Jennifer Shepard set off at a steady trot towards with complex below, leaving the rest of them to catch up. They were uphill from the Archives and could see the entirety of the facility from their position. The sun shone brightly off the unmarred metal surface, making Mark's visor tint slightly in response. There was absolutely no sign of any external attack. No sign of explosion, firefight, or struggle of any kind. He tuned out the bickering of Vega and Williams as they descended towards the archives. Right before he turned around and told them to can it and focus, Jennifer Shepard did the job for him.

She held up her palm, halting the squad behind her. She dropped to her knees behind a cover of rocks, then propped her sniper rifle over it. She peered through the scope, frowning as she surveyed below her.

"Five armored soldiers, possibly hostiles. Two civilians." She reported calmly. The rest of the squad crawled into cover on either side of her and glanced over the rocks. Mark immediately noted that the soldiers below were not in standard issue Alliance uniform but were in clunky white and black suits. The civilians slumped forward on their knees, their hands on their heads in clear surrender.

"Are they..."

"Cerberus." Ashley growled in confirmation as she looked into her own scope. Mark watched as one of the armored grunts approached a trembling civilian. He promptly took out his pistol from his holster, and pressed the butt of the weapon against the scientist's defenseless forehead. Even from this distance the arching spray of blood was clearly visible, the droplets shimmering in the sun. The man fell to the ground in a heap, causing the civilian next to him to begin screaming.

"They're executing them," James said in open mouthed disbelief.

"Shit," The Commander muttered as Mark hunched down under cover again.

"Alright, they don't see us yet." He began, meeting the attentive eyes of Ashley and James. "Here's what we're going to do. Williams, I need you to-" the cracking retort of a sniper rifle stopped him mid sentence. He whipped around, returning his gaze back to the alleged Cerberus troops. an Assault Trooper clutched at a gaping hole in his neck while his comrades scrambled for cover. A few seconds later he fell with an audible clunk to the ground, sharing the fate of the innocents he'd just executed.

"Well, they know we're here now." Vega said almost giddily before hoisting himself over the cover of rocks and into the carnage below. Mark took a few moments of solace, before turning to his sister. She met his eyes defiantly before he climbed over the rocks, trailing after the rest of his soldiers. He took in as much information as he could in his quick dash to cover. Along with the first downed grunt, another one lay a few meters away in a pool of dark blood. The remaining three were huddled behind their land vehicles, periodically laying down suppressive fire towards the Alliance Marines.

When he crashed into cover next to James, Mark wasted no time and began feeling around his waist. After a moment of fumbling, his fingers wrapped themselves around a large round bulb. He stood up momentarily, winding his arm back before chucking it towards the Cerberus vehicle. He didn't watch its trajectory, instead he hunched back down into cover while yelling a commanding 'frag out!'

Scuffling and muffled screaming could be heard for a few moments until a piercing explosion drowned it out. Mark glanced over cover just in time to see two forms being thrown violently in the air like ragdolls. He watched them grimly until they fell to the ground then switched his attention back to the remaining soldier.

The grunt huddled over, clutching his shoulder while taking pot shots with his uninjured arm. His desperation showed itself when he dropped his thermal clip then scrambled out of cover to retrieve it. Shots were fired in his direction, but he dodged them with surprising finesse before positioning himself into cover again.

Mark glanced around the narrow draw, looking for a safe way to advance on the wounded and cornered soldier. Large jutting rocks on either side of him would cut off any flank attempts, and there was no more cover between him and the last standing Cerberus Assault Trooper. He could make a reckless mad dash towards them, but he wasn't sure if he could afford to take any dings to his shields.

_I could lob another grenade towards him, but I've only - wait.. What?_

A strangled gurgle caught his attention. Jennifer Shepard stood over the Cerberus trooper, omni-blade lodged into the gap in his armor located conveniently next to his jugular. She extracted it, pulling her arm back and letting the dead man fall as Mark padded over to her. She stared down at the dead man, seemingly satisfied with her achievement. She didn't look up at her Commanding Officer until he was nearly in her face.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on with you but I need you to follow orders. I can't have my soldiers charging recklessly into battle, this isn't a game." He said sternly, looking down at his slightly shorter twin. She looked up at him, her eyes burning but somehow they gave him chills. She didn't respond, instead she opted to holster her rifle and glance impatiently towards the large door to the archives.

"How did you get up close to them like that anyway? That was badass!" James said as he caught up with the siblings, Ashley cautiously trotting along behind him. Commander Shepard snickered and smiled almost sheepishly.

"Tactical cloak. Cerberus bastard never saw me coming." She nearly spat the last words out looking down at the corpse of the man that had just bloodied her blade. Ashley followed her gaze, staring down at the dingy black and white uniform in disgust.

"It doesn't look like they came here in force." James pointed out.

"Yeah, just a few vehicles." The Spectre agreed, his voice thoughtful.

"Kind of suggests they had help, from the inside." Ashley threw Jennifer a significant look, but the other woman didn't notice. She walked towards the complex, looking for a console to operate the sliding metal door. Before long, Jennifer was hacking her way into the Archives, bypassing all measures of the security lockdown. After a few minutes, she motioned them into the spacious cargo elevator. When the door crashed shut behind them, an audible hiss filled the room. Mark looked up and watched as the room was filled with breathable air. He took off his helmet, breathing in the slightly stale air of the facility.

"I need a straight answer, Shepard." Mark glanced over his shoulder as Ashley closed in on his sister. Jennifer had been starring off almost mindlessly at the wall, her fist clenching and relaxing rhythmically. He watched curiously as the Commander narrowed her eyes in question at the junior officer.

"Cerberus may be pro-human, but they're no friend of the Alliance. Do you know what they're doing here?" Though Ashley's words harbored no bitter accusations, Jennifer scoffed lightly before turning her full attention back towards that wall. She didn't even bother to justify William's question with an answer.

"What makes you think she knows what their up to?" Mark inquired. Ashley's eyes met his, but quickly dropped as she avoided the contact.

"She worked for them, and so did you." She added pointedly. "How am I supposed to believe you've both cut all ties?"

"Let me be clear, I didn't work for them. _They _worked for _me. _And now that I wiped the Galaxy of the Collector plague, I don't need their xenophobic bullshit anymore." Jennifer finally spoke up, not taking her eyes off the featureless metal wall.

"Commander Shepard and Captain Shepard have been under nearly constant surveillance since coming back to Earth. No way they've communicated with Cerberus since." Vega added helpfully. Ashley shook her head, still unable to meet Mark's eyes.

"Sorry, Shepard. I just-"

"You want to hate Cerberus, fine. Join the club." Commander Shepard took a few steps towards Ashley, her words traced with venom. Mark watched as Ashley visibly winced. "But, I am done explaining myself to you, Lieutenant Commander."

The rest of the ride up was punctuated with palpable silence. With Jennifer looking into her wall and Ashley looking into the floor, Mark and Vega found themselves also looking awkwardly into the various areas of grated metal in the elevator shaft. The roof above them parted as the elevator reached its destination.

They stepped off the platform carefully, finding themselves in a spacious storage garage. Land rovers and fuel tanks were scattered in an unorganized manner, making the large room feel almost claustrophobic. Before Mark could orientate himself properly, a loud clanging above his head caused the squad to go running for cover. Mark peered around the storage crate, staring up at the metal vent that was the source of the echoing bangs. It sounded as if there was a struggle going on above them consisting of multiple people. His thoughts were confirmed when the sounds of bullets ricocheting off of metal met his ears.

"They must have some big rats," Jennifer growled, taking out her pistol and pointing it at the ceiling.

"Wait!" Mark grabbed at the gun, pointing the barrel to the floor. "You don't know who's up there." He scolded.

"From what I've seen today, whoever is crawling around in the vents is probably bad news." But to her credit, she didn't return her iron sights skyward. Before the Captain could respond, a louder than before clang caught his attention. The end of the vent had been kicked off violently and he looked over just in time to see the lithe from of an Asari falling to the ground. She landed on her feet, taking a few steps before whipping around. Her whole body glowed and pulsing blue that complimented her complexion perfectl as she cast her biotics at her pursuers. The Cerberus troopers had been easing themselves out of the vent - lacking the dexterity that the Asari in light armor had shown- before they were easily swept up by a biotic singularity. They hovered helplessly in the air, letting out almost childish screams as their weapons (and dignities) crashed to the floor.

The Asari was cold and deliberate, taking out her side arm and catching each soldier in the head with a dose of hot lead. As the singularity died and the Cerberus soldiers limp forms fell to the floor, it was clear that her shots had hit their mark. The garage descended into eerie quiet as the alien admired her handiwork. Suddenly she spun her head around, as if something behind her had startled her.

_Holy shit. It's Liara. _

Her eyes fell on Mark, recognition lighting up her face. She made no move to greet him, instead her blue eyes moved passed him and onto something over his shoulder.

"Shepard," She whispered almost inaudibly. Mark glanced over his shoulder and saw Jennifer standing straight up, her brow furrowed in confusion... and anger. Vega came up beside her, his weapon draw and locked onto the Asari Scientist.

"Stand down, Lieutenant." She lightly tipped the barrel of his weapon down before taking a few steps forward. "She's with us."

Jennifer approached the Asari, but stopped a respectable distance away. They stared at each other for nearly a minute before Jennifer cleared her throat, her gaze dropping to the floor.

"Thank the Goddess you're alive," The phrase held weight, but the Asari's tone made it seem reserved, casual even. Jennifer nodded her acknowledgement, but didn't return the sentiment. "I am sorry... about Earth."

"Yeah, it was.. Difficult to leave" Ashley said, walking up to Jennifer's side. Liara offered her condolences to the humans, bowing her head for a moment and closing her eyes. She mourned for a Planet she'd barely visited and a species that she still struggled to understand. After the moment of silence she addressed the Senior Officer in the squad.

"Why did you come here, Captain?" She inquired, cocking her head in the same manner he'd seen Jennifer do countless times.

"Hackett ordered us to come. He said you'd know what was going on." Liara smiled almost coyly, as if finding pleasure in the information she held. Not because of its contents, but because she owned it and could do whatever she pleased with it. She seemed to revel at their helplessness and take pride in the idea that she was the only one that could lead them to the answer. Mark felt uneasy at her unusual response, but then again he'd always felt that his sister's lover had always been a bit odd. But, eventually her smiled died down as she sobered. Her almost child-like demeanor dissolved into a calm layer of pure professionalism.

"I do."

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**A/N: Be sure to post a review if you see something you liked or something you didn't like. Thanks!**


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