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Mass Effect 3: Aftermath	By : Royality Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 3529 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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"Wait, you're his what now?" Kyo stopped to ask as Shiro, Liara, and himself sat at the common's table just outside of the medical lab near the small kitchenette. Shiro had his chin rested on intertwined fingers as his elbows were perched on the tabletop. His head tilted downward just enough so that the overgrown white bangs covered his eyes before he looked over in Kyo's direction with a sad smile.
"Not biologically, of course. I found him when he was just a kid," he added to make it clear that there was no blood relation between himself and the Commander.
"But your age?" then questioned Liara. "Even with genetic modifications, you must have been just a young boy yourself for a human…" But Shiro shook his head before she could even finish her sentence.
"I'm older than I look,” the ex-Agent insisted.
"Agent four-zero-five. Agent four-zero-five. Come in." A female voice over the radio signal spoke directly into the ear of a skinny, hooded form as he crawled through the broken glass of a window into a ruined apartment. The walls were covered with splatters of blood and singe marks from the spray of bullets that were freshly made only a few moments ago. The curtains had been torn and bloodied as well, but at least this made it easier for the hooded figure to get inside. On the floor were two bodies in close proximity to one another, each one completely covered in bleeding holes as they lie dead on the wooden floor. It was a man and a woman who were close in age and dressed in fine attire. The man was tall with slicked-back black hair, wearing a black and white tuxedo, an expensive watch, and still had his pistol in hand that he may have gotten one or two shots off with before falling down dead.
The woman, on the other hand, wore a form fitting white dress that was now red from her blood soaking through the fabric. A string of pearls were across her neck with what appeared to be diamond earrings to match the bracelet on her wrist. Not far away from her body was a still closed and matching dress purse with a gold clasp that had been made specifically to go along with her elegant dress. This had been yet another gang killing from the recent string of internal gangland rivalries that were tearing this area apart. The Tenth Street Reds had enemies on both outside and even from within their own family. Removing the hoodie exposed the short, but messy white hair of the dark -skinned young man with bright green eyes. On the back of his neck, you could see the glimpse of an implant just underneath the hairline.
Coldly, he stepped over the bodies to move towards the desk area to active the laptop there. "Agent, you've got about five minutes before the police arrive. Gather the information and take it to your safe house to decipher."
"This isn't my first job, Operator. Shut up and let me work." Before the Operator on the other line could protest, he cut the feed to his inner ear and sighed in relief. This was a simple enough snatch and grab job that even a rookie could do. Five minutes? With a final keystroke, the upload began to his omni-tool. Work completed in less than one. Turning back to the window, the Agent started to climb out again, but a small noise caught his attention. It was the sound of shuffling from the closet, for sure. It put the young man on edge enough to pull out a pistol from his waistline underneath the dark gray fabric of a shabby pullover. Ever so carefully, he walked towards the door that had been locked down electronically on the inside. Holding the onmi-tool up, the locked bleeped twice before turning from red to green. Giving the circle a tap, it opened to a row of men's coats and a small armory. As the Agent looked straight ahead, he saw nothing, but another noise came from underneath a fallen coat that had been formed into a small pile on the floor. "A damn dog?" was asked out loud before giving the whimpering pile a kick, but the noise that it made after than wasn't canine at all. The same foot pushed the black coat away only to find a small child curled up around himself, bleeding profusely.
"You've got to be kidding me…" Exasperated, the Agent then lowered the pistol, but it wasn't out of pity or sadness. Instead, it was irritation. Whoever staged the hit on the happy couple in the living room had obviously done a shitty job not getting their damn kid as well. The child had black hair, similar to his father, and had taken refuge after taking a bullet to his stomach in the closet. He had found some comfort under his father's large coat, despite his parents getting blown to hell just on the other side of the door. The blood loss had left him barely conscious, however it was the pain that kept him somewhat alert. Still, to survive the initial attack only to be killed now by someone taking advantage of the situation, who only came to steal his parent's database, was a cruel fate. The Intruder had considered this, even as he took aim at the child's head with the pistol again. All Cerberus Agents knew protocol very well for these situations: No witnesses, no survivors.
"…Shit." The pistol dropped as this particular Agent instead took a knee to scan the boy's body. The bullets didn't just hit the stomach area, but a second shot had also grazed his heart. There was heavy bleeding that medi-gel would slow down, but the chances to survive after this long were still slim. Tapping the screen on his wrist, the first application of gel was applied to stop some of the more intense bleeding and to numb the pain. The whimpering finally began to decrease and eventually it was just enough to sedate the young boy entirely. The black coat made for a good bundle as the child was then wrapped up and put over the grown man's shoulder. In the distance, sirens could be heard as they approached the apartment building.
It was a sunny afternoon when the sleeping boy awoke from a feverish dream underneath a tattered white blanket on a worn down floor mat. He didn't recognize where he was and attempted to sit up, but could barely move. There was still that sharp pain in his chest and stomach still, though it was most just the fatigue and weariness that kept him in the makeshift bed. Lying back down, his large, curious grey eyes scanned the room for signs of life until they noticed a strange man sitting at a floor desk. The man was focused on the laptop in front of him, paying the child no mind. The boy then tried to speak, but only made a grunting noise from his throat being dry. This at least altered his savior, who looked surprised as he got up from his seat and walked over barefooted towards him. The Agent sat on his knees, scanning over the body with an omni-tool for a moment before putting his arm down. While the man was wearing some sort of worn, but fitting black clothing, the child was in a white pair of child-sized pajama pants and a blue shirt that didn't belong to him. There was a curious stare at first between the man and boy, before the Agent gave a sigh of relief.
"You're alive…," he said breathless, both surprised and relieved. The dark circles under the green eyes indicated a good amount of time spent not being able to sleep. The boy only blinked before he began to remember what happened; the screaming, the gunfire, the blood, and finally the pain. He also knew that if he was here with a stranger, that his parents were no longer with him. Tears rolled out from the tired child's eyes as his small hands came up to comfort himself. It was almost an instinct that caused the Agent to reach out towards to boy so that his larger hands could stroke the short, yet soft black hair before carefully pulling the boy up for a comforting hug as he was cried upon. There was something else. The was suddenly this unexplained feeling that urged the Agent hug back, patting the frail thin back of a human child who just lost his entire life.
"Hey, it's alright. I'm here, okay?" There was a pause for a moment as he pulled the boy away to face him with a warm smile. "My name is John. John Shepard. I was…" There was a pause. Somehow explaining that he was grave robbing didn't seem like such a good thing to say to a seven year old. "I uh, knew your dad. You're going to stay with me from now on, okay?" It surprised John that the boy seemed to understand the situation at all. Why on Earth would a kid suddenly be okay with being passed off to a complete stranger by his folks? "I guess you were handled by a lot of friends of your mom and dad, huh?" The boy looked away from shame as he nodded. His mouth then opened to speak, but instead his hands moved up to hold onto his sore throat while making a grimacing face. It was dry and cracking, even more so now that he had cried.
John looked in a panic for a moment before standing up to carry the boy to the kitchen. It was a tiny, one room apartment that was surprising clean on the inside, despite the neighborhood and price range it was in. There were several different laptops and pieces of equipment lying around in small towers, while only short surfaces were available as furniture. There were no chairs or couches, just a small floor desk and some thin mattresses for bedding in the middle of the dwelling. The boy was sat down on top of one of the kitchen countertops as John went into the medium-sized white fridge to get a bottle of cool water. After twisting off the cap, he handed it over the waiting child.
"Your name is Solaris Redford, right? Do people call you Sol?" After drinking eagerly, the boy then nodded. John smiled as he watched. "Do you know what Sol means? It's the name of the sun and the system we're in right now. Someone must have loved you very much to call you that." Sol gave a sad smile, looking down into the half-empty glass container as he was finally able to speak clearly.
"Mom…did." His voice as soft, awkward and shy.
"Well," John sighed. "We can keep your first name…but Redford has to go. I've already changed it in the databanks, so no one will come looking for you. You have a new last name now, okay? Instead of Redford, you'll be a Shepard like I am. Do you understand?" With questioning eyes, the boy did not. Frowning, John leaned in to try to explain himself better. His rich accented voice softened as he tried to be less intimidating. "Sol, your mommy and daddy had a lot of bad people after them. If they knew you were still alive, they are going to try to find you too okay?" Suddenly, Sol looked frightened. His body began to shake with his hands trembling the water bottle. That was until the warm hand came back up to pet his black hair. "Don't worry, I won't let them get you…but you can't be Sol Redford anymore, alright? We're going to pretend that you're Sol Shepard, my son. I…know I'm not your real dad, but let's pretend until you're safe again, okay?"
That seemed to clear it up, as the little boy understood danger and pretending. After nodding, the hand playfully ruffled up his hair until a smile came across his face. It was afterwards when his face became inquisitive again. "Do I have to call you daddy?" It was an honest question that made even John stop to think.
"Well…no…I'm not your real dad…You can call me John, alright?" he smiled to Sol. The boy only nodded as he tried to process the information. "And I'll call you Sol, okay? Can I call you that?" With another smile, the boy nodded. It seemed like good progress for two complete strangers. However, Sol was still very young. The seven year old often cried out for his mother at night and dreamt of his parent's death for many years. There was a distance between them, as John was new to the concept of bad dreams, bedwetting, and tantrums. It would take time for the pair to become a family.
On a dark rainy night, Solaris Shepard sat underneath a concrete tunnel in a rundown part of the city to take shelter from the weather. He had gotten into another fight with his caretaker and it had reached a boiling point where Sol no longer felt as if he had a place in this world. Despite his injuries as a child, his body had grown strong without any side effects and only two small scars from the bullet wounds, but John kept him on a short leash just the same. Sol had made it very clear that he wanted to do what normal kids did in the gang-filled area he lived in did. He wanted to work as a Runner, a gang runt that started off by doing drug or money drops, or even use the skills he had learned from John as a hacker to make some extra money. Not to mention, that despite John's supposedly lucrative work, that they still lived in that small, crappy apartment where they had been in for the past six years. Now at age of thirteen, Sol was determined to do more than stay inside all day and read off the extranet. The rain continued to pour outside of the drippy stone tunnel and it was getting dark. The darker it got, the more his eyes filled up with tears. He wanted to go home now, but couldn't bring himself to face his adoptive father. He didn't even feel like John wanted him there half of the time. He always pulled away or made sure to remind Sol that he wasn't his real dad. With his face buried on bare, crossed dirty arms, Sol sobs were muffled by the thunder.
"You're going to catch a cold if you stay under there," said John, who had ducked his way into the pipe to squat in front of his adopted son. His tall, yet lanky body was entirely too big for the tight space. Sol looked up startled at first, but then frowned.
"What do you care?" he asked in anger as an arm came to wipe the tears away quickly. "I'm not your real son." John only frowned at that, reaching out to inspect a fresh cut on Sol's forehead.
"Is that what you're mad about?"
"I'm not mad! I...I…"
"Let's go home, okay?" John smiled sadly, giving Sol a familiar ruffle to his short, messy hair. It triggered only more tears, but Sol sniffled manly-like as he nodded. John crawled out of the tunnel first, reopening his red umbrella as Sol crawled out next to him. The teenager took the offer to find refuge in the dark grey raincoat as he clung to his father for both comfort and forgiveness.
"I'm sorry…dad…" John looked surprised, but smiled, giving Sol a rub to his back as they walked back to the apartment nuzzled closely to each other that was only a few blocks away. Even though he had run off, Sol didn't even bother actually going anywhere.
Today was Solaris's eighteenth birthday. He already had several plans in the works, which no longer included spending the weekend with his now ex-girlfriend because she was a total bitch. So what if he cheated a little with a guy he met at the nightclub? She slept with him too! So three-ways were only okay if you all had sex at the same time? Who made that stupid rule? The next plan was to spend a quiet birthday at home with his dad, who got hit on by more girls that were Sol's age than he did, the bastard. John only shrugged about it, but always kept his personal life a secret even from his own son. For a teen his age, Sol wasn't typical by any means. He was smart, for starters, trained harshly under his father in advanced hacking and cybernetic warfare. He could do in minutes what took typical hackers in the area hours. Not that he worked for any gangs, as John made it very clear what the local gangs were like. Not to mention that Solaris still had plenty of nightmares as to what happened to his parents and himself as a child. If not for John…well. He didn't even want to think about that.
At the breakfast table, Sol fidgeted with his outdated omni-tool with a frustrated sigh. "Damnit! Process you piece of shit!" John snickered to himself while engrossed in reading something off of an thin datapad.
"You're running too many programs. Prioritize."
"I am!" Sol insisted as he closed the screen to shovel yellow scrambled eggs into his mouth. The food was chased down with some sort of green juice which caused the teen to squint his face up from the bitter taste. "If only someone would get me the new update for the Phoenix model, I wouldn't have this problem."
"Well, why don't you ask your girlfriend?" The response was smug, albeit playful, as John continued to read while pretending to ignore Sol's obvious staring. Over the years, little had changed in John's physical appearance outside of now having slightly longer hair. While it may have been confusing to outsiders, Sol never thought much about how his adoptive father looked the same age as he did. He always looked like that.
"But we broke up last week!"
"Well, that's a shame isn't it?" Another smug remark as John looked over the pad at his annoyed son. Sol sighed, obviously not getting anywhere and took another swig of the green liquid.
"Fine, I'll be back later with the groceries for tonight. I told Randy I'd meet him at the bar for some part-time work."
"Work? I thought you already updated their security system?"
"Yeah, but he needs someone to clean up the joint after a Batarian tore the place up in a fight last night. Said he'd give me half the creds he's making if I helped out." John made a face, but Sol taking up odd jobs was better than a life of crime that sucked in most of the kids his age. Despite his arrogance, Solaris was a good person at heart and was always willing to help a friend out, even if it meant scrubbing blood off the walls at some hole-in-the-wall local pub. At least the bar wasn't open yet, as it was still daylight outside.
"Fine, but don't hang out too long after you get done. That place is a shitter."
"Noted. Bye, dad." Sol stood up, giving a wave as he left the apartment. As the door closed behind him, John sighed a bit in irritation. He tapped the screen on the datapad that now rested on the table to listen to an encrypted message left for him. It was a series of beeps that decoded into a contact address which John dialed upon his wrist.
"Agent four-zero-five." The familiar voice of the female Operator spoke directly into John's ear. "Report to Outpost 44 for debriefing. This is your final warning, Agent. Bring us the trainee or steps will be taken."
The line disconnected and left John in silence. This was his third message that he was meaning to ignore, but the threat at the end made him uneasy. "Damnit!" A frustrated fist hit the table as John stood up to walk around the apartment. Near the back closet, he squatted down to scan the white surface of the floor with an active omni-tool. The digital cloak that was there faded, revealing a small metal and electronically locked panel that buzzed before it opened up. Inside were several laptops and even more datapads, as well as a small arsenal of firearms including a few plasma grenades and a short sword. It was a stash that not even his own son knew about and John had every intention on keeping it that way, but it was now something that he regretted not being honest about. The bar which Sol had walked to was only a few blocks away, hidden behind a few abandoned buildings in a back lot down a flight of crumbling stone steps and through a doorway that was currently open to let some of the smell out. Inside, a young man with blonde hair was busy turning chairs over and taking some outside to hose them off in the alleyway. "Randy? Where's Sol?"
The blonde stopped to look towards the other man and noticed John right away, even though he was wearing a heavy black overcoat on despite it only being early April. "Never showed? I thought he got tied up with Mya, but she didn't hear from him either."
"Steps have been taken, Agent."
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Mass Effect 3: Aftermath