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A-Z of Jack
A is for Ascension
Never thought the mother fucking Alliance would want me to be a teacher...
But then my life's kinda taken a turn since Shepard got me out of Cryo. A fuckin awesome turn.
For once I feel... free.
Like I can stop looking over my shoulder. Though habit won't let me relax. Five days into my new job at Grissom Academy and I'm still paranoid about this whole thing. My nightmares make sure of that.
They kinda threw me in the deep end. My second day on board was a teaching day.
Twenty biotic teenagers staring at me, these big bright scared eyes scanning every part of me. And this was a small class? All I could think was No fucking way can I handle this.
Sanders is standing by the classroom door, watching me, this proud fucking smile on her face that I wanna wipe off with my fist. If she’s so fucking confident why doesn’t she do this shit…
“Students, meet your new instructor, Jack.”
They all stay quiet. ‘Cept one. He looks like he could be the oldest. Maybe seventeen or eighteen. He stands, looking to Sanders. She nods and he looks back to me.
“You’re the super biotic who helped Shepard.” The other kids look more scared. One girl smiles and mouths a “wow”.
I fold my arms and glance back at Sanders, who looks surprised. She didn’t tell him.
I nod and step forward, “Yeah… Yeah that’s me.”
His expression doesn’t change, “You’re the psychotic biotic.”
I nod again, staring at him, trying to find something in his eyes, past this tough barrier.
“Yeah. So who the fuck are you?”
Sanders coughs in disapproval but I ignore it.
"Jason Prangley."
"That's 'Jason Prangley, Ma'am'."
Finally, a small smile breaks through. "Yes ma'am."
B is for Broken
I don’t usually like admitting this shit.
I’m broken.
I can kill anyone, anything with my mind. Easily. I have more power than some asari Matriarchs have in their little fucking finger.
I can take a hell of a beating and still wanna fight. As long as I have will I have a way…
But when it comes to life… to friends, letting my guard down and being a human being -- a human, and not a walking death machine… I can’t handle that shit.
I find it hard trusting people. I’ve been hurt too much before. Every time someone breaks me, I put myself back together and build stronger walls around me.
But when that wall comes down, and someone else breaks me, the pieces are smaller, and there’s more of them. It takes longer to piece me back together.
It’s different these days. I have friends. And not like the cultists, murderers, theifs and fellow psychopaths I used to hang around with, these are well adjusted (mostly) honest and caring people. Fuckers actually wanna help me.. which I don’t get.
Somedays I can forget about my past and actually look to the future. I see a life beyond this war, for me and my students. I actually feel like… like I’m healing.
But then I’ll have a nightmare. Or I’ll catch a glimpse of my scars in a window or mirror, and they remind me. Shit like this is supposed to make you stronger. It just reminds me I’m still broken.
I’ll be fixed, one day.
C is for Caleb
Click here for Extended
He’s been watching her for a while now. Everytime she glances over his eyes are on her tits or scanning the patterns covering her body. She’s had enough to drink to put on a show. He’s not exactly tough to look at, so why the fuck not?
She catches his eye, finishes her beer and backs away from the bar, holding his gaze until she begins the show on the dancefloor. She sways her hips, and lets her hands stroke down her body and it isn’t long until he’s making his way over.
His callus hands grip her waist and he pulls her close, moves his lips to her ear, “Mercs. Watching you.”
Now she finds it hard to concentrate on the movements of her body. He feels her tense and tries to guide her.
She looks him over. She can’t see any weapons but he could be a biotic.
She doesn’t trust him, but right now he’s the lesser of two evils.
He leads her to a safe place, explains himself. He wants to get off world. He wants to use her -- not an alien concept -- and has a plan.
They find the mercs. Take down the group, her biotics protecting their unarmored bodies, warping anyone stupid enough to get too close, he uses a combination of biotics and firearms to pick off those further away.
They steal their cruiser. Charge through the relay and out of the system. She can still feel the adrenaline in her veins and has to move around. He switches to auto pilot while they drift.
They’ve done each other a favour but they don’t do thank yous. But they are grateful. He grabs her, spins her and kisses her fiercely. This is how they’ll show thanks.
It escalates quickly. He takes her against the wall. She moans, growls at his force, legs wrapped around him, hands searching, nails dragging, fingers grasping, enticing grunts and moans from his delicious lips.
D is for Destruction
There is nothing better than tearing shit apart. Whether it's a bulkhead, a building or some asshole who gets in my way, I get this fuzzy feeling whenever I rip something new apart.
Most fun I ever had was breaking out of this one prison. So called max security for the most dangerous of the Galaxy's criminals.
These fucking bounty hunters chased me for near a year before the dirty bastards caught me. Sleeping gas and a tech overload that blocked my implants so I couldnt bust out the room they locked me in.
Brutish guards kept telling me I was never gonna see day light again. Gonna die in that place while those bounty hunters lived up on the 40million creds they got paid for bringing me in.
Told those fucks they were all gonna die why I broke out and they laughed.
Took me two weeks to recharge. By that time they all thought I'd given up. Thought they had me for good.
I showed those Fuckers.
E is for Eat (NSFW)
She jumped up onto the pull up bar and held herself there with ease, watching him with her capturing gaze.
“C’mere… Take off my boots.” She demanded. James Vega eyed her, curious as to her end game. Afraid he’d seen one too many spy movies to think she only wanted him to do this so he was close enough to snap his neck when her feet were free. Though something about that gaze made it hard for him to deny her.
He slowly stepped forward and one by one took off her boots, only looking away from her intense eyes to fumble with the buckles.
“Now.. unfasten my belt…” Jack demanded, her voice softer though still with a commanding tone.
Of course he complied. It was beginning to look less like a plot to kill and more like something he definitely wanted to be part of. He unclipped her belt easily, not needing to take his eyes from her.
She grinned as she watched him, then licked her teeth, “Good work, soldier,” she praised, “Take off my pants.”
Oh he definitely obeyed that command. He pulled his stare from her eyes this time, looking to her loose waist pants, he slowly pulled down the zip, then shimmied them down slightly. He moved his hands to her hips now, just above where her pants were, pushing them off now by running his hands down her firm, slender legs until they slipped off her feet.
He looked back to her for another demand, straightening up and stepping back only a little.
She let him admire a moment longer then pulled herself up on the bar and in one quick movement she lifted her legs over his shoulders and bent her knees, bringing him close, his face nestled between her thighs, the strap she’d used as a pantie substitute gave little coverage in his position. Though Jack had left enough room to admire or escape if he saw fit, the closeness to her and her forwardness would have made James blush if all the blood in his body wasn’t already rushing to somewhere else.
Jack grinned still, obviously being able to read him well enough to know he would still obey her next demands, “...Eat.”
F is for Fight
I’m not fighting for humans. That’s Shepard’s job.
I’m fighting for me. I’m showing all those fuckers who try to pull me down, who try to take me on, that I am not to be fucked with.
I’m fighting for my one lost loved one, the stupid ass who thought sacrificing himself would save me.
I’m fighting for the kids who were kidnapped, tortured and killed so that I could be some unstable fucked up freak with too much biotic power.
Most of all, I’m fighting because that’s what I was made for.
G is for Grunt
Jack and Grunt once again stood and watched Shepard clumsily flirt with an asari dancer in Afterlife. Eventually Jack got really impatient and spoke up, “Hey Boss man, can we go for a walk? You really need us to hang about?”
Commander John Shepard looked back at her as if he didn’t recognise her and nodded, “Didn’t even realise you’d followed me off the ship. Go do what you want.”
“Awesome.” Grumbled Jack, turning on her heel to head over to the bar, though she was smart enough not to order a drink from the publically racist batarian. Grunt thudded over and stood beside her, eyeing her.
“What’s up, Big Guy?” Jack sighed, noting the bemused look on the tank-bred Krogans face; he wasn’t long out his tank.
“Humans are tiny.” He grunted, “Asari are…” he looked around and grumbled as he searched for a word, “… blue.”
Jack folded her arms and leaned against the bar, studying him, “No shit.”
Grunt’s eyes followed the asari’s bodies moving. His rage had long since passed, now he had completed his rite on Tuchanka – with help from Jack and Shepard. Though Jack though that fighting was only half of a child become an adult – of boy becoming man. It gave Jack an idea.
She looked back to her Commander, whose red eyes were so fixed on the dancer before him he hadn’t noticed his cigar had burnt out. They had time to have fun. Jack nudged Grunt and led him over to another dancer with no customers. She sat him down and grabbed a drink for him from the passing waitress.
“His dance is on me. He’s clan now.”
H is for Human
2172
Jack was nervous, but like hell was she going to show it. This asari, Talah had helped her escape from those asshole scum slavers and now had work for her – this was too good to pass up. Maybe she’d finally have some hope in life, no more pain or suffering or being used for her biotics.
“Ladies.” Talah pulled Jack into a room where another 3 Asari and a female drell sat around a coffee table in various colours of armour. They all looked up as they entered the room and looked over Jack. She hung her head and pulled her sleeves down over her scars.
Talah continued, “This is Jack. She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”
A lilac coloured asari made a disgusted noise in her throat, “A human, Talah? Really?”
“Yes, Rylie, really.” Talah crossed her arms, “Got a problem with saving a kid from slavers now?”
“Save all the kids you want, but we can’t bring them with us. She won’t be able to keep up! She’ll be a liability.”
The drell had wandered over and knelt in front of Jack.
“Let me see,” she said, softly. She nodded to Jack’s arms. Jack looked at her, then up at Talah, who nodded. The rest of the room had fallen silent and were all looking now.
Slowly, Jack rolled back her sleeves. Rylie was looking at her arms now, with an entirely different expression. The drell held her hands and after a moment asked, “Who did this to you, sweetie?”
Jack felt herself choke, tears stinging the back of her eyes, “I don’t know. Other humans. Scientists.”
“She’s weak,” Rylie hissed, “Nothing more than a lab rat.”
“I’ll look out for her,” the drell said, not taking her eyes off Jack’s, “Humans are resilient. I can see her strength.”
I is for Invisible
Laughter filled the courtyard playground. The new swing set had been installed and the children played, chased each other and laughed. Guards stood by, laying weapons down in a rare moment of calm as they supervised the children, finally being permitted to be children.
At least, most of them were.
There was a mirror on one side of the courtyard. The light shone off the surface and made the whole area seem brighter. But on the other side…..
Subject Zero climbed onto her bed and pressed her hands against the only window of her cell. It looked out onto a courtyard and she smiled at the children laughing and playing. She waved and called out to them, maybe the guards could let her out and she could play too?
The children kept playing, so she yelled louder and knocked on the glass.
Still they paid no attention. So she yelled louder again and banged harder on the glass. She felt tears sting her eyes and run down her cheeks as she screamed for them to let her out, let her play. She brayed on the glass until her knuckles bled, she screamed and yelled until her throat was hoarse.
Eventually the sun vanished from the sky above the courtyard and the guards started to usher the children back indoors. Subject Zero watched the last child skip back into the building and sunk back onto her bed.
J is for Javik
Inspired by Citadel DLC from ME3.
Javik: “Tattooed human, let me touch you.”
Jack: “Hey, collector-looking asshole. Why don’t you touch yourself?”
Jack was still dancing on the table when the first of her old crew mates had begun to pass out or disappear into a spare room. She climbed off the table once Garrus said his goodnight and spotted Williams and Vega still next to the bar still drinking tequila. Williams was shamelessly flirting, stroking her fingers over Vega’s shoulder and tracing the tattoo upon it. She guessed they'd be the next ones to disappear into a private room. As much as she wanted another drink, she didn't wanna be anywhere near that shit.
Jack had a buzz, maybe she was bordering on drunk, but she was still standing strong (and feeling pretty disappointed at the so called “Pure” Krogan she’d seen sitting asleep in the shower upstairs). So she looked for more of that fancy shmancy brandy Shepard had brought out for a toast before they turned up the music. She swore she saw him put it away in the kitchen, but so far she couldn’t find it.
“Where the fuck, Shepard…” she murmured to herself, sticking her head into the cupboard to get a better look.
“Tattooed human!” a commanding voice called behind her, making her jump and smack her head off a shelf, “Wh-fuck-what?!”
She pulled her head out and spun around. The prothean was standing perhaps a little too close for her liking. She frowned at him, stood up, and took a few steps away for comfort – he closed the gap, “You are stealing from the Commander!” he accused, though she noticed he slurred a little and was less than steady.
“I’m not stealing; I’m looking for more booze. It’s a fuckin’ party.” She retorted hotly.
He reached out to touch her shoulder and she instinctively pushed him away, trying to avoid his sensory abilities, “You have a history of stealing,” he said, “and murder, arson… vandalism.” His volume lowered as he went on, “many crimes.”
Jack eyed him and took another step back, backing into the breakfast counter, then moved around it, to put some space between them – he’d been talking about his ability to ‘sense’ people earlier and she didn’t want him knowing anything about her. The whole idea freaked her the fuck out. Had that small moment of contact been enough?
“Your aura is complex, human.” He continued, “… it holds strength.” He was now so quiet she could hardly hear him. His four yellow eyes, some half closed, watched her closely.
There was a few more seconds of silence while the two stared at each other, unsure of what might happen next.
Javik then broke the eye contact and placed the expensive bottle of brandy she'd been looking for on the counter in front of her, then from his other hand he put down 2 shot glasses and sat down, “You will make… a worthy opponent.”
K is for Kasumi
Kasumi often roamed the ship at night when she couldn’t sleep. Even though there was next to no one around at those times, she still cloaked. She got up to small amounts of mischief like playing tricks on the night shift crew. She felt a great deal of pride one night when a certain crewman had commented that he thought the ship was haunted, because his data pad was never where he left it. The second crewman had waved it off as a stupid notion, but Kasumi's still loved it. Mostly though, she liked listening in on peoples conversations and finding out everything that was going on among her new crewmates.
So far she’d discovered that the Professor Mordin liked to sing songs from musicals as he worked, the Justicar Samara had a soft spot for the Normandy’s chef, Gardner, who in turn had a secret fancy for Dr Chakwas.
The only part of the ship she hadn’t gone near was the subdeck, where the Convict stayed out of the way. Jack had been on the ship before Kasumi got there, and she’d heard plenty from the crew about "that crazy biotic under engineering"; the criminal who had threatened to tear the ship apart within 5 minutes of boarding, and who had spent the last few years cryogenically frozen on a prison/slaver ship because she was too dangerous to simply lock up. Kasumi could definitely see why Shepard would want that kind of force on his side against the Collectors but, respectfully, gave the biotic a wide birth.
That was at least until Shepard took Jack, and Thane, to Pragia for Jack’s ‘unfinished business’. Then Kasumi's curiosity got the better of her and she ventured under engineering to try and get a read on Jack from the space she’d occupied.
There were a number of data pads littered on the floor. The cot had been used, but not slept in. Kasumi peered at the first data pad and read through – a file was open called “Project: Teltin” and she read through the many pages and notes within it, all about a series of gruesome experiments on biotics. Among it all she read a list of names titled “Subjects Deceased” with accompanying birth and death dates – the oldest had been only 12 The youngest; 4. She read the next data pad; weekly reports from the project, mentioning coordinates of a facility on the planet Pragia. The next pad mentioned success with ‘Subject Zero’, which further into the report mentioned that guards had taken to calling Zero “Jack” instead.
The reports made Kasumi nauseous. The very idea that someone could even think about doing this to children infuriated her. No wonder Jack was angry – she had been a part of it all; the centre of it.
Under the far corner of the bunk, Kasumi then spotted an empty bottle. She looked closer and recognised the brand - Jack had good taste in whiskey. No doubt this one had been stolen – no way Cerberus was paying Jack when they’d bought her from a slaver which they then blew up – and Kasumi knew exactly where she’d stolen it from.
She smiled and hurried up to the crew deck, into the quarters of engineer Ken Donnelly. He had come on board with a care package containing 3 bottles of whiskey, and now there were 1 and a half left – she knew for a fact that he’d drank himself to sleep after a game of cards with Shepard. Kasumi swapped the full bottle with Jack’s empty one; Donnelly would most likely just curse himself thinking he’d drank more than he actually had. Jack would need a celebration drink after finishing things on Pragia and perhaps also a new friend.
L is for Liara
With her students safe and a Cerberus-Occupied Grissom Academy in the Normandy’s rear view, Jack’s mind reeled back to Liara’s claim that she knew her real name… She had no reason to lie, and she was the new shadow broker – Jack knew because she’d been along for the ride when they’d stormed the broker’s base.
If nothing else it’d be interesting to see what the Alliance had done with the Normandy, so Jack decided she’d go for a wander before they docked at the Citadel.
She immediately loved that Lawson’s office had been ripped apart and converted into Liara’s new broker base which had her smirking as she entered. Liara didn’t look away from her terminal and a VI beside the door scanned Jack when she stepped forward into the room, “Welcome” it said.
Liara glanced over, “Oh. Hello, Jack. I thought you might be Shepard.” She went right back to her terminal.
“Yeah…” Jack said, a little unsure of how to approach the subject, “I’m not great at… at this stuff,” she began, slowly, “but I uh… my guys are safe and you helped so… thanks.” Liara smiled and nodded slightly toward Jack in her acknowledgement, and what seemed like a sign Liara knew that ‘thanks’ wasn’t the only reason she’d come to see her.
“What you said…” she continued, “about my name. Were you just fucking with me, or can you actually find that shit out?” she ended her sentence quickly, leaning on her back heel ready to leave if the latter were true.
Instead, Liara stood aside and gestured to the terminal, “I’ve already brought up all the information relating to you on the broker’s database. Take as long as you like to go through it, or I can compress it and send it to your omnitool – I see you still prefer to use a private extranet connection. I can also set up a programme that will identify any further intel and forward it to you.”
Jack hesitated then took a few small steps forward, searching Liara’s face for any signs that she might be lying. Then she approached the terminal; she saw the Cerberus files from Teltin that she’d looked through after joining Shepard’s suicide mission, her staff documents from Grissom, surveillance footage from Grissom, the Citadel, Illium, Omega, Purgatory, Lorek, even a blurry photograph of her running on some station she didn’t recognise – but her hair was blue and in dreads; that meant it was 3 years old at least.
“I’ll be just outside when you finish. Finally I can have something to eat.” Liara spoke softly and Jack hardly heard her.
She had opened the door to her office again by the time the sentence sank in, so Jack called out, “Hey.”
Liara turned and looked to her. Jack nodded to her respectfully, “… Thank you, Liara.”
M is for Murder
The worst mistake you can make is messing with me. None of that “fool me once, shame on me”; Fool me once; I will destroy you.
People tend to find that out the hard way. Like a couple of inmates from Purgatory – didn’t you wonder why they waited a week before throwing me in cryo?
I was in the shower a couple days after processing and these assholes jumped me. I fought like hell and managed to knock two of ‘em out, but the others were too strong, and there were too many of em. Assholes took turns, then left me on that floor broken and bloody for the guards to find.
Prisons don’t fuss over inmates. Places like Purgatory, who sell prisoners, don’t care about injuries, so long as they ain’t fatal – Kuril would get more creds for selling me alive. Guards picked me up and threw me back in my cell, then threw my jumpsuit in after me. I didn’t bother telling them the assholes who did it – even if there was a chance they’d listen – I wanted my own back.
Couple days and I could stand and move again. 4 guys were on my hit list; 1465, 1327, 2769 and 0994. 0994 was the leader of ‘em and he was the biggest. He was first.
In that place we got half an hour, twice a day, to stretch our legs. Guards were watching but we had more or less free roam around this big hall. I saw 0994 across the hall – he didn’t see me. He was with his lackies, but broke off from ‘em to take a leak. They stood and waited for a couple seconds then decided they’d pick a fight with a new inmate so I made for the stalls.
0994 wasn’t alone, but I didn’t care. The two on either side of him were so afraid of him they couldn’t piss; all tensed up and shaking. I charged at him, knocking him against the tile wall and had him fall to his knees- to my height. I dug my fingers into his eye sockets and didn’t stop pushing, and grabbing, and squeezing until his eyes burst in my hand. Then I left him there, wiped my hands on his jumpsuit and ran out with the other two inmates before the guards could get to him. He eventually stopped screaming.
Next was 1327. He was a skinny fuck, even skinnier than me, and had a weasley look about him. I knew he carried a shiv because he’d put it to my neck in the shower and cut my arm when I fought back. With the distraction of the screams it was easy to sneak around the back of the group, wrap my arm around his throat, drag him into a corner and snap his neck. I found his shiv in his boot. Then it was easy to kill 1465 and 2769. I slit their throats and left the shiv lodged in 2769’s eye.
The guards grabbed me then, and I let them drag me away. I let those warm fuzzy feelings I got after a kill just run through me and numb me to all other sensation. Not long after that Kuril made the decision to put me in cryo.
It was worth it to end those fuckers. Their IDs are on my back now, with the memories of my previous victims; all my best murders.
N is for Necessary Professionalism
Inspiration;
(Source - http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0178254/quotes)
Jeff 'Joker' Moreau: Hey, Jack, now that you're military, you gonna wear a uniform? Or are you just getting the officer's bars tattooed on?
Jack: Screw you, f... flight lieutenant.
Jeff 'Joker' Moreau: Uh... what the hell was that?
Kahlee Sanders: Jack promised to watch her language in order to maintain the necessary professionalism we need from our teachers.
Jeff 'Joker' Moreau: What, does she have a swear jar or something? 'Cause I'll bet if we emptied that thing, we could afford another cruiser.
Jack: Cover your ears, kids. Hey, Joker, f-
[scene cuts away]
"-uck you, and your so-fucking-called funny quips. You know what I’m gonna fucking do to you when I get on that fucking ship? I'm gonna fucking break you so fucking much you're gonna rattle like a fucking swear jar! I’m gonna fucking destroy you, you weak little fuck. I hope your fucking humour is fucking worth it, asshole.”
There was a pause within the shuttle where everyone was silent. Sanders stared at Jack, entirely shocked. The Grissom students who had indeed covered their ears, were lowering their hands with small smirks on their faces. Shepard was grinning ear to ear.
“… Make that two cruisers.” Came Joker’s eventual response, “Missed ya Jack.”
“You too, hop-a-long.”
O is for Omega
Everyone knows Omega is probably the number one place in the galaxy you don’t wanna find yourself in after a wild night out. For me, it was the first stop for a good time. After every prison break or bail I’d head straight to Omega, sometimes Illium, but mostly Omega; because for a crazy biotic bitch convict like yours truly, it’s a paradise. There’s always work, drinks are cheap and potent, you can always find a good fuck, fight or food joint and no one cares if you accidentally airlock a vorcha.
If I ever had a place I’d call home, it’d be Omega.
P is for Prison Break
Already Caleb Ortez was tired of his cell mate. Dennis; nerdy looking little thing. Crazy eyes though. Caleb had no issues believing this guy had actually hacked into the council’s booking systems just to get an earlier appointment with Sha’ira the consort. Though he was sure he’d been sent to the galaxy’s biggest maximum security prison as more of an additional punishment rather than the actual need for maximum security. Caleb had been sent here because he was just that fucking lucky.
“Kay, you’re a guy who looks like he can handle himself, but you’ll find most guys here can handle themselves just as well if not better, so bad idea to go picking fights.” Dennis rambled on. He’d been showing Caleb around the accessible parts of the prison as instructed. This was the yard. Not all that big, high concrete walls with minimal sports equipment and a few park benches. Looking around he saw the same generic crazies he saw around the rest of the galaxy. Only difference was this lot, like Caleb, had been stupid enough to get caught.
“There’s who you really wanna avoid. Over there in the--” Dennis pointed but recoiled quickly, “Fuck, is she smiling?!”
At the question, a couple other inmates nearby Caleb and his new cellmate Dennis stopped what they were doing and looked over.
“Shit… Ain’t seen her smile since she got here… Fucking creepy.”
Following their gaze Caleb could only just see a figure, mostly shaded, standing in the corner of the yard. He saw the smile though. Familiar, full, deep red lips curled up into a knowing grin.
Caleb grinned right back and turned to Dennis, “Yeah, she’s smiling at me.”
Big muscular guy nearby shook his head, “Stay away dude. She’s probably hungry.”
“Nah, that’s not it.” Caleb snorted, “Let me guess… This place has the only biotic blockers strong enough? But that doesn’t stop her; she’s still deadly as fuck?”
“She’s sent all the big bads to medical already you don’t wanna--” Dennis looked shocked as a hint of realisation flashed across his eyes, “You lucky fuck you fucking know her!”
“We’re old friends,” Caleb grinned wider, nodded and patted his shoulder, “You're in for a hell of a show, Dennis.”
He took off at a jog towards the woman across the yard. She stayed still, watching him approach.
He could see her face now. Those gorgeous brown eyes, and her perfect lips. Her head was shaved, but she was still beautiful without the bright blue mohawk he’d seen her with last time. ".... Jack."
She stepped out of the shadow and grazed her finger tips up his arm, “… Ready to go, Caleb?”
Q is for Quotes
R is for Rodriguez
For source purposes, click here for this part on Archive of Our Own
Prangley picked Rodriguez up off the floor for the 4th time and frowned, “Are you even trying?” he hissed, low enough that the thought their new instructor wouldn’t hear, “You can do better than this.”
Rodriguez looked broken. She was tired, sore, her head pounded and she felt her power draining. She had been trying so hard, and although Prangely was the strongest in their class, she knew he was going easy on her, and still her barrier couldn’t hold strong.
“Again,” Prangley said, irritation in his voice. He wasn’t getting any practice, wasn’t getting any better or stronger, when she wasn’t trying to counter the softest warp he’d ever generated.
“I need a rest, Jase” Rodriguez muttered, folding over, hands on her knees and breathing deeply. Their instructor noticed and started heading over.
Jack took one look at Rodriguez, exhausted, Prangley frustrated and called for a time out.
“Go get your lunch early, guys. Back here in 30.”
There were a couple confused looks around the gym; they never got to go early. But there were no arguments; they’d be first in line at the cafeteria.
Rodriguez took another moment to get her breath before straightening up and moving to follow her peers.
“Not you, Rodriguez,” the instructor barked, “Come with me.”
Shit she thought to herself, I’m gonna get kicked out the programme.
A voice in her head told her it was a stupid assumption to make but it didn’t stop tears threatening to well in her eyes as she followed Jack into the office. The tattooed instructor gestured to one of the seats in her office and grabbed hold of a box, perching on her desk. Rodriguez sat and looked at the floor.
“Here,” Jack finally said and Rodriguez lifted her head; Jack was offering her half of a foot long sub, “You look fried.” She commented, simply.
Rodriguez took the sub and looked at it. Jack continued, “It tastes weird but it’s all high energy food. Don’t eat it all if you feel you can’t, they’re pretty filling.”
After 3 bites she already felt better. Jack had grabbed a file and was flipping through it as she heartily tucked into her half of the sub and Rodriguez noticed after a while it was her file.
“Any problems with your amp?” Jack asked casually, “headaches, burning, anything like that?”
“No Ma’am.”
Jack finished her half of the sandwich and eyed the Ensign who was struggling with the last quarter, “You think you’re done?” Jack asked and Rodriguez nodded, “What’s in this thing?”
“Better you don’t know,” smirked Jack, taking the remains off her. She scooted off the desk and led them out the office.
“Show me your barrier.” Jack started.
Rodriguez did as instructed and held up a bubble above her head.
“Hold it steady.” Jack began to circle her, around the edge of the barrier, “Widen your stance,” Rodriguez shuffled her feet wider apart, “straighten your back,” she did; she felt no difference in her barrier, “bring it down.” She finished.
Rodriguez felt so weak. Not her body but her mind. Jack circled back around in front of her student and stepped in close.
“We’re gonna try something new,” she said, “and I want you to trust me. Can you do that?” Her voice was softer, but still held that commanding tone.
“Something’s bothering you,” she assessed after a small nod from the Ensign, “you doubt yourself and it’s making you weak.” Her tone began to harden again and there was a new edge to her words, “when you’re on the battlefield, you can’t afford to doubt yourself, because that’s what’ll kill you.”
Rodriguez was stunned by the hard truth, her last instructor hadn’t been as tough.
“When you hear that voice in your head telling you that you ain’t shi— that you ain’t strong enough, you tell that voice to shut the f—the hell up.”
Rodriguez was still a little stunned but she nodded. Jack could see her still doubting herself and frowned, “We’re gonna try something.” She said, taking a few steps back and gesturing Rodriguez more toward the centre of the gym. “I’m gonna be the voice, and you’re gonna tell me where to shove it.”
Rodriguez blushed, “Ma’am, I can’t--”
“That’s no longer a word you can use, Ensign, got it?” Jack barked, “You’re gonna tell me to shut up, and hit me with a warp.”
Rodriguez hesitated again, unsure about attacking a teacher, but she moved with Jack to the centre. Jack’s biotics flashed over her skin in a barrier, “don’t worry about hitting me, I can take it.”
Rodriguez finally nodded.
“You’re not strong enough.” Jack barked.
Rodriguez was a little taken aback and whimpered a tiny, “Shut up”, scared to, more than forgetting to, throw the warp.
Jack yelled, “Louder, and hit me, Rodriguez! You’re WEAK!”
She widened her stance, “Shut up,” and threw a warp. It dissolved when it hit Jack’s knee.
“You’re pathetic, Ensign!”
“Shut up!” she threw the warp as she yelled this time – it hit Jack’s shoulder but she hardly flinched.
“You’re NOTHING, Rodriguez!”
“SHUT UP!” again she threw the warp with her yell and it hit Jack in the face, making her stumble backwards. She recovered and yelled again.
“YOU’RE NOT STRONG ENOUGH!”
“YES. I. AM!” this time the warp charged in her hand and shot out of her fist as she threw it forward, slamming Jack in the chest and knocking her on her ass.
Rodriguez clamped her hands over her mouth and froze, surprised by the sudden burst of energy. Jack grumbled and sat up; she was smiling wide, proudly, “Yes you are.” She affirmed.
Added note
Rodriguez: So... is that how you learned, Ma'am?
Jack, casually: Nah, i was conditioned with narcotics, electroshock and murder.
Rodriguez: .... Oh.
S is for Shower/Shore Leave
Kasumi uncloaked just as James Vega went to lift the sheets and climb out of bed, “Morning James.” She purred, leaning against the wall and watching him. He jumped and swore in Spanish, dropping the sheets back over himself and pulling them up to his chest, “Kas, dios, you can’t keep doing that!”
Kasumi giggled, “Where’s Jack?”
Vega blushed, realising how loud they must have been after the party last night, and hoped at least some of the others would have been in too deep of a sleep to hear “She’s uh... she’s showering.” He pointed to the en suite bathroom door and Kasumi nodded, reaching to turn the handle, “Whoa, bella, you’re just gonna go in there?”
The slender thief gave her answer by slipping through the door and closing it shut behind her. James waited with baited breath for the inevitable yelling from Jack telling her to leave but no such sound came.
“Morning Jackie.” Kas said, throwing back her hood and unzipping her catsuit, “Great party last night, huh?”
Jack smiled over her shoulder as she let the hot water flow over her skin, “Good to get away.” She answered, “I actually thought you’d be tired of having to share a shower, Kas.”
Kasumi pulled off her sock-like boots and stepped into the shower with Jack, “Are you kidding, I’ve missed it!” she gave Jack a quick hug and reached for the loofah and shower gel. Jack moved out the way so she could get under the water, smiling warmly. The shower was a generous size in any case and the two slender women rattled around behind the glass.
As Jack shampooed the little hair she had, Kasumi lathered the gel on the loofah and rolled it over Jack’s back and shoulders before washing herself. Kasumi had become a regular shower buddy of Jack’s during their time on the Normandy – by accident at first but then they had begun to fetch the other when a shower was needed so they wouldn’t be interrupted and could have a little “girl time” together; which usually consisted of bitching about the other crew mates, talking about the latest mission or planning a poker night.
“New tattoo, Jack?” Kasumi asked as they swapped sides, Jack now scrubbing herself with the loofah as Kas stepped under the water to wash away the suds.
Jack smiled, “What, you don’t like it?”
“A rose just… isn’t your style.” She said, honestly, “Why get it?”
“It’s for a friend I’ve been missing.” Jack explained, now gently buffing Kas’ back, “She used to leave it as a calling card.”
T is for Thane
Shepard started down the stairs to the engineering subdeck but found Jack sat on the steps waiting for him. She had her shotgun at her back and pistol on her side, “Ready, Shepard.”
She didn’t sound ready.
“I came to ask if you had any preference who we bring as our third.” Shepard asked slowly.
“Anyone but the cheerleader.” She said instantly and stood up. But then she remembered her encounter with the new crew mate in the early hours of the morning, “Thane.” She said as Shepard turned to leave, “Bring Thane.” She said again. Shepard paused and studied her for only a moment then nodded, “I’ll go get the shuttle ready, you grab Thane, meet me in the shuttlebay.” He’d put on his Commander tone but his face read like a friendly request. She started up the stairs with him and said nothing until she got out the elevator at Deck 3, “see ya down there.”
The crew deck was buzzing at this time, so different to the silence she found in the early hours of this morning. She headed straight for the Life Support room to the right of the elevator and opened it up. Thane sat facing the drive core with his hands together in front of him. Jack took only a few steps forward before he addressed her, “Jack. Another visit so soon.”
“The stuff we talked about this morning,” Jack said, deciding she’d dive right into it, “Everything I told you about Cerberus.”
The drell nodded, and turned slightly to face her.
“I didn’t tell you that I’d found the facility. We’re in orbit of a planet called Pragia. Teltin is down there. Shepard says we can nuke it.”
Thane nodded again, watching her over his shoulder.
“We need a third. You’re the only person I’ve talked to who isn’t a Cerberus lapdog. Will you come?”
Thane stood, faced Jack and bowed to her politely, then smiled gently, “Of course. I am honoured you asked.”