Chapter Text
The clatter of her shoes was suddenly too loud and her lungs burned as though she had never run before. Sirens that were the perpetual background in the slums were suddenly too close. She had to get away. There was blood on her hands, but it wasn't her fault, was it? It must be because he wouldn’t be dead if it wasn’t for her. What could she do? There was only one way out now. The only place where she could possibly run far enough.
The decision having solidified in her mind she finally felt safe enough to stop running. She shot down an alley and slammed her back into the brick of the antique building. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession as she tried to catch her breath. When her chest no longer felt like it was bursting she looked down at her shaking hands which were now getting sticky from the dried blood. It wasn't her blood – it was blue going on black.
“Oh Valerius, why would you do that?” she cried. Her breath dragged in and out of her as if by force and her ribcage felt near to bursting. Her anguished sobs only added to the background cacophony of the slums, just one more voice in misery.
It took her an hour to get back to the hovel apartment of a forever absent friend that she called home and change out of her bloody clothes, scrub off the blood, and pack the few things she owned into her ratty backpack, and to close the door on her old life.
It took her another hour to walk to the Alliance recruitment office where that one recruiting officer that she had first talked to worked.
It took another eight hours of waiting until the daylight hours on a nearby curb for the office to open and for her new life to start.
“Yo Shepard, I've got an idea for a job,” said the young woman next to her.
Shepard didn't bother to open her eyes against the sun and kept lying on the concrete divider. “You always have an idea for a job, Anki,” she laughed. “I've decided to finally value myself. I refuse to get up for anything short of instant, police-free riches.”
“You're going to be waiting a long time then,” said a rich voice with the distinctive harmonious undertones of a turian.
Shepard jumped up despite the pain that such a sudden motion caused her back. “Valerius! What are you doing here?”
“Walking in on a criminal conspiracy it seems,” he says, mandible twitching in what Shepard recently learned was turian amusement.
Shepard rubbed the back of her head and then ran a hand through her hair, attempting to smooth the long hair around her undercut to no avail. “Nothing criminal here.”
Anki sat up too though decidedly more slowly. She elbowed Shepard painfully in the ribs. “What're you preening for, eh?”
Shepard elbowed her back. “Am not.”
Anki sniffed with a slight frown. Like most of their circle of friends who only knew the human neighborhoods of Earth, Anki was uncomfortable about the few aliens that they met.
Valerius's cool alien gaze just looked on until the teenagers sorted themselves out.
“Sorry,” Shepard finally uttered, cheeks flushing.
“Don't worry about it. I did move to Earth to observe humans and their culture, after all. Anyway, I was just heading home. You want to carry my groceries and generally do all sorts of errands for me?”
Anki snorted again as Shepard hurriedly grabbed Valerius's bags. “I'd be happy to!”
“You know that Dole isn't going to like this, right? He's got a stick up his ass about aliens,” said Shepard's friend, understating the truth. “No offense.” This last was aimed at the only alien present. He shrugged but said nothing.
“Dole can bite my ass. I’ll see you later, Anki,” Shepard said, starting to move with Valerius towards his apartment.
“I won’t always be around to cover you!” she called after Shepard playfully, with the cynical edge characteristic of their gang associates. Shepard waved her free arm without turning around.
“So why are you called the Tenth Street Reds?” asked Valerius frankly after a few moments of silence.
“Dole thought he was being clever when he came up with the name. He started his operation on Tenth Street so it’s sort of a reminder of where we came from. And red’s just the color of blood,” Shepard said. She blushed then, feeling silly. “Our blood, that is.”
She had a question of her own to pose. “So what’re you doing on Earth? And here of all places? You never did tell me.”
“I like to write about people and I find that understanding helps to breed compassion,” he hummed. “And knowing how the poor of a species live gives a greater insight into the people.”
Shepard bristled slightly. “So what you’re studying us? Me?”
Valerius looked at her in a way that on a human would have translated to a raised eye brow. “In a sense,” he said carefully. “But I’m not an impartial observer. I’m afraid that often I get pretty sentimental about the people I interact with. My works are rarely scientific anthropological studies and more… vignettes or sentimental portraits that illustrate how the people of this galaxy live. I guess you could say I care too much.”
Shepard huffed, mollified. “Fine, I’ll let that slide. Besides, you’re the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me around here.”
“Even with your gang affiliations?”
Shepard reddened, feeling even more like a child playing at community and violence. “Umm, yeah. I guess. Nothing we do matters really.”
Valerius hummed understandingly and thought quietly for a moment. “So why stay then? You have other options.”
She barked a laugh then. “’Other options’? Which options are those, exactly? The system didn’t even care enough about me to get me back when I ran away. None of the foster parents I ever had gave a shit either.”
“What about school?”
“What about it?” she said, getting angry now. “Nothing I learn in school would ever be helpful. And it’s not like I’d be able to go to college and ‘make a better life for myself.’” She raised her voice to a high, mocking pitch on the last part.
“You’re certainly smart enough. And you definitely have some biotic potential,” Valerius said. “It’s true that life hasn’t been kind to you, but you still have options even if it doesn’t seem like it. You don’t have to surrender to a life of petty crime and a future in and out of prison. Never mind your gang leader’s questionable attitudes towards the greater galactic community.”
“What’s the point?” Shepard spit out. “I was born trash. My parents didn’t even want me and they brought me into this world. And I’ll die trash. At least for now I have people that actually care if I show up some place.”
“Yes, you do.” Valerius placed a three-fingered hand on her shoulder and looked at her. They had stopped walking and the turian applied gentle pressure, turning her to face him. “Your life has always been a struggle,” he said. “But you can choose what you struggle for. You can choose to struggle for better, not just for survival.” He looked meaningfully up at the building sign where they stopped.
Shepard was about to shrug off his hand when she saw what he was looking at and sighed. “The Alliance? Really? They’re not going to want me, being a petty criminal and all. And I didn’t even finish school.”
“You don’t know that for sure. And yes, really. That’s why you should talk to a recruiter and find out what your options are. You said you wanted to see more than just these slums. If you join the Alliance you would get to go to space, see things beyond your imagination. And perhaps even interact with more aliens. It’ll give you perspective.”
Shepard was unsure. The future that Valerius described was suddenly too big and too scary. There’s no way she would pass muster, right? “Could you come with me in there?” she asked quietly.
Valerius nodded and said, “Of course, my young friend.” Had he been human Shepard was sure he would have been smiling gently.
Shepard later found herself on the shitty couch of her friend, staring at the Alliance brochures in her hands. Coral was rarely in her apartment, preferring to stay with her boyfriend of the month, so she let Shepard crash at her place ever since she ran away from her foster parents’ right before she turned eighteen. And now that Shepard was legally an adult, she continued her residence at Coral’s apartment. She couldn’t recall the last time she actually talked to her friend, who had been rather absorbed with her latest boyfriend.
So the Alliance wasn’t so bad, Shepard realized. They would take her after all. They would even train her in biotics. Sure, she’d have to do some remedial classes as part of her preliminary training since she didn’t finish school, but she wouldn’t have to stay in the slums since they’d help her relocate until she could officially start basic training. Here she had a way out. She just had to cut her gang ties.
And there was the rub. Dole was a controlling bastard, which was understandable for a gang leader. He wasn’t likely to just let Shepard walk away. She stuffed the brochures in the couch cushions so that Coral wouldn’t find them on the off chance that she reemerged. She was a friend of Dole’s even though she wasn’t part of the Reds. Shepard didn’t want her to accidentally say something and cause a scene. She didn’t want Dole to make an example of her. He’d done it before.