#mshenko eventually

I could have sworn it was Tuesday... Ah well, here's a snippet of an idea that came to me last night for Caleb Shepard and I decided to get down on the page. I've got a vauge idea of placement in the timeline and how it will affect things, but that's all I'll say until it's fully written...

Setting: London, England, 2179-ish, Alliance HQ

~~~

It’s a rare occasion these days that Caleb Shepard returns to London. Too many memories remain, and his life has veered hard to port since his last stint in England five years before. Still, looking back on it he can now admit it wasn’t a bad experience. It hadn’t started off well, but where he’d thought he’d found a rival, he now has a friend. It’s strange, to say the least, but he’ll gladly take the few he’s found these days.

He catches a glance at the chronometer as he exits the office. Damn, he’s behind schedule. A friend who will skin me alive if I don’t show up…

Picking up his pace, Caleb double times it through the halls of HQ. This time, he can’t blame his delay on Anderson showing up unexpectedly, and since he can’t really talk about his reasons for being in the city in the first place, better to just get moving. Blaming his tardiness on traffic won’t help either, and chances are, Hammersmith won’t believe him anyway, so…

“Urnf.”

Not watching where he is going is a dangerous prospect at best, and his attention is miles away as he turns a corner in the direction of the elevators. His arm shoots out immediately, reacing on instinct even as an apology slips from his lips even as he grasps his unsuspecting victim by the arm to keep them on their feet. “Gabh mo leithscéal!”**

“No, it was my fault…”

There is a hint of familiarity in the raspy voice that replies. Hand tightening on the man’s uniform sleeve, Caleb’s eyes widen as the dark-haired head tilts upward. His breath catches, and another near collision is the only thing that pushes him into action; he guides them off to the side of the hall out of foot traffic. “Kaidan?”

As he straightens, Kaidan Alenko rubs the back of his neck a smile and a bemused laugh at the ready. “Of all the people to bump into here…”

Caleb nods absently. “What the hell are you doing in London?”

Got woken up by the cats at 5:30 AM today and after spending an hour trying to go back to sleep and only having another hour before the alarm went off, I decided to write.  Here’s a snippet.

Biotic Pinball Wizard stuffs - Michael Shepard  mshenko (eventually) - Vanguard of Your Destruction

~~~

The building shakes again; the battle against panic is more of a challenge.  Fear, she decides, is a hell of an anesthetic when confronted by such a large creature.  An anesthetic she can’t afford right now if she wants to survive.  “How the hell are we supposed to fight this thing?”

She’s pulled from her thoughts by  more screams, this time outside of her door.  She nearly trips on her own feet as she rushes to the door and peeks out into the hallway.  People are running toward the elevators – probably not a wise idea since they’ll likely be packed, but it makes sense in a way.  Out there, the panic is almost palpable.  Closing the door, she secures it and scans over it with her omni-tool.  Using the program Kaidan gave her, she puts a lock on it that almost no one but he can sort out, then looks back into her apartment.  

The building shudders a third time.  Outside the window, two blocks away, she watches in horror as the leg of one of the reapers descends through the center of the West End Estates like a knife through hot butter.  She frowns, shakes her head.  Hot knife through butter.  Blinking a few times, she’s only partly aware that if she can correct herself, she’s still thinking relatively straight.

I can’t stay.  The building shakes a fourth time, and it’s like a button to her brain is pushed.  Dashing back into her room, she throws open the closet and grabs the evacuation bag Kaidan had her create.  Clothing.  First-aid kit. All the necessities a girl needs to get from Vancouver to the BC interior when an invasion hits! she’d quipped at the time.  She turns back to the door but hesitates when she spies her jewelry box on the top of her dresser.  Almost before she realizes it, she stands directly in front of it, her hand settling on the top.  The nerves that shoot through her now have little to do with alien space creatures, but everything to do with her own peace of mind.

Taking a deep breath, she lifts the lid.  It’s there, still sitting in its corner, carefully wrapped in a small piece of fabric to protect it.  In the distance, hardly muted at all even with closed windows, a deep, resonant, mechanical wail fills the air.  She cringes out of instinct, but her fingers close around the fabric-wrapped item. 

I know you don’t want to think about it, but Kan, you need to.  I’m not kidding …

Gulping, she stares at it; the fabric falls open and her eyes affix to the device.  The very fact she is having to make this choice, after so damned long, is … offensive. Despicable.  Frustrating as all hell because no matter how she wants to deny it … if she is going to live, to survive, she knows he’s right.  Quick tears fill her eyes even as she lets the fabric fall to the floor.  It’s a Savant, an older style one, the one he used back before the Normandy was destroyed, but it’s better than the old Gemini they’d been issued at Brain Camp.

Dammit, K, I hate it when you’re right!