Identity (a Mass Effect fanfiction)

Soldier

He restrained a smile, thinking that Jack was one of the few who could legitimately think of him that way. Most of the galaxy thought of him as ruthless, hard, someone who got things done without considering the consequences. "It's my duty, Jack. I'm still an Alliance soldier."

"No, you're not! You didn't go back to them after Cerberus rebuilt you."

"Doesn't matter. It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is. The Alliance abandoned you, the Illusive Man fired you—that means you're free. You don't owe any of them anything. You don't owe the fucking galaxy anything." She growled with the intensity of her anger. "I told you not to go off after that stupid woman in the first place."

"You mean Dr. Kenson? Jack, if I hadn't gone, she would have let the Reapers through the relay." He got to his feet, facing her down, unable to believe that she truly felt that way. "We'd have been at war with the fucking Reapers!"

"And why was that your problem? Why is it always you?"

"I don't know, but it is."

"Then stop! Make someone else go save the goddamned day for a change!"

"No one else was responsible for blowing up a batarian colony," he pointed out.

"So you're going, then. Tail between your legs, like a well-trained little Alliance pooch? They whistle and you jump for it?"

The decision had been made, or as good as, but he was damned if he was going to admit it to her with that attitude. "If I go, it'll be because I thought it was the right thing to do."

"You know they'll make you their whipping boy, lock you up and throw away the key, make you an example. Then where will you be when the Reapers really do attack?" Her face lit up at that, knowing she had found an argument that would speak to him.

But he was ahead of her, and had already thought about it. "If I go, and I make them see what a danger we truly face, then maybe when the Reapers come the Alliance will be ready."

"They haven't listened to you about the Reapers yet. What makes you think they're ever going to?"

"I can be pretty persuasive, or so I'm told." He grinned at her.

"You didn't persaude the Council."

"No." The grin slipped away as if it had never been. "I didn't. Maybe I won't have any better luck with whatever tribunal the Alliance sets me in front of. But Jack, I have to try! I know what's coming—I know it better than anyone. And maybe they won't listen, but if there's a chance, one single damned chance, that I can help prepare, that I can get someone to listen to me who will know how to stop it before it starts ... I have to take it."

"So you're going?" she asked, the anger and the bluster gone from her voice, replaced by disappointment and defeat.

He hesitated only a moment. "Yeah. I think I am."

"You expect me to go with you?"

"I wish you would." Not that he could see Jack in an Alliance facility, but—there was something here between them, a connection, an understanding, that he had never felt before. He didn't want to give it, or her, up if he didn't have to.

"I thought we were going to be pirates."

They had talked that way, after the Illusive Man's anger when Shepard destroyed the Collector base. Shepard had been angry enough himself to chuck it all and find his own path, and the rest of the team seemed to feel similarly, so that had been the tentative plan—until he'd been asked to go save this missing doctor, finding her indoctrinated and ready to open the door to the Reapers, and had blown up a batarian colony in the process of preventing that catastrophe.

"We were," he said to Jack. "But ... I have to do this."

"I'm not coming with you, Aaron."

"No." He tried not to show how hurt he was. He hadn't expected her to, although he had hoped she might.

"Or sticking around to wait for the Alliance's lapdog."

That struck deep. But he was damned if he was going to let her see it. "Fine. You want me to have Joker drop you off somewhere?"

There was a very brief silence. She seemed to have expected him to argue—and Shepard was a little surprised at himself that he hadn't. Then she turned, picking up her discarded pants from where they had been flung earlier in the night. "Yeah. Tell him to set a course for Omega."

"Omega? Why there?"

"Know anywhere better for a girl to get in trouble?"

He didn't. "I wish you luck."

"Yeah. You, too." She picked up the rest of her clothes and moved toward the door. "Been nice knowing you, Shepard."

"Real nice," he agreed.

Jack hesitated before tapping the button that would open the door for her, and Shepard watched her, his heart in his throat. Was she really going to do this? Could she? Then, when the button didn't respond, she slapped her hand on it more firmly, the door opened, and she was gone.

Shepard looked back at Anderson's email and sighed. He couldn't have done anything else. The Reapers were coming, and he was the only person who had any hope of getting the Alliance to listen and prepare. And he did feel bad about the batarians. If he had it to do over again, he would do exactly the same, but that didn't mean he didn't care that people had died in the process. If that cost him Jack—well, had he really expected she would stay forever? He supposed it was a loss he could live with. Or so he told himself, but his room, and his heart, felt surprisingly empty without her.