The Pit
Zakera Ward
Citadel Station
Think of the loudest, seediest, nastiest bar you've ever known. It doesn't have to be one you've personally visited, because if you did, you'd be risking your neck. Maybe its patrons would stab you for a single credit. Maybe that dark puddle you sat in was someone else's blood.
Maybe that beer you ordered wasn't strictly beer, and one drop was enough to topple a krogan. Maybe lots of people get into fights at this bar. Maybe some of them don't survive. Maybe the local authorities don't care, because caring would mean that they would have to step into the bar.
Whatever you can think of, let me assure you it is nothing – nothing – compared to the shithole that is the Pit in the absolute bowels of the Zakera wards. To get there you had to take a shuttle to the lowest level, then at the point where someone hijacked your shuttle, you hung a left past the pile of dead bodies until you found it.
It was nothing like Flux or the Darkstar Lounge. Nothing like Chora's Den or the Bloody Moon. Even the Afterlife had a touch of class to it, and the drinks were good. The Pit had no redeeming factor whatsoever. It was a place you went to when you were sick of life.
It was here that I knew I would find Jackie.
I walked in and sat down on the one free seat that didn't appear to be broken or bloodstained. Fifty pairs of eyes did not track my entrance, because I was just another face in a crowd of hundreds. Scarred turians, shady asari, krogan whom other krogan considered too violent, shifty looking salarians, even the odd elcor and volus. There was a single hanar, which for some reason was holding a gun in every tentacle.
I ordered a drink by randomly pointing, spit it out because it clearly wasn't intended for human consumption, and stole a shot of ryncol from a krogan when his back was turned. Then I leaned back and watched the evening's festivities.
Another reason why my entrance went unnoticed was because most of the people in there were preoccupied with a huge brawl taking place in the middle of the room. Furniture had been hurriedly shoved aside to make space, and a ring of yelling and cheering scumbags were cheering the combatants on.
Jackie had stripped down to nothing but her jeans, leaving her upper body bare. Her teeth were bared in a snarl, and she was moving warily around an old, battle-scarred asari. Her lip was cut and her jaw had a nasty bruise. Blood trickled down from her lip in a bright red line, inching its way down her body.
Jackie screamed and rushed the asari. She went in low, circling her hands around her opponent's waist and bringing her to the floor in a takedown. Jackie was all over her, punching and clawing, but the asari was giving back as good as she got, snapping off a few kicks. The roar from the crowd was deafening. The smell of sweat and blood and bloodlust from a hundred different aliens filled the air.
I drank some more ryncol. The krogan drink was foul beyond imagination, but according to Wrex I was about the only human in the galaxy who could keep it down, and since then it had become a point of pride of me to do so.
Jackie had straddled the asari, and was punching her in the face repeatedly. The crowd was revelling in the smack of tattooed flesh upon blue. I could hear the sound of bone snapping.
"Stop," burbled the asari merc. At least I think she was a merc, judging by the three nearby asari dressed in identical uniforms who wore identical expressions of horror on their faces.
"I can't hear you," said Jackie, raising her fist.
"Stop," repeated the merc. Then she went limp. Jackie climbed off her, looking triumphant. The beaten asari was dragged away to safety by her companions.
"Another win for me. Fucking pay up, all of you."
There were some muttered grumblings, but most of the spectators rummaged around for their credit chits. It was clear they didn't want to piss Jackie off any more than she already was.
"Anyone else? I'll take you all on. Krogan, turian, I don't give a fuck. If you got the cash, step into the ring," she boasted.
"I could snap you in half, little girl," growled a krogan. He had only one eye and one arm, but was toting an impressive mouthful of teeth.
"You go for me, I use my biotics. And you don't want me to use my biotics," shot back Jackie.
The krogan growled, but didn't move. Jackie wiped the blood from her mouth and looked around at the crowd.
"Come on. Last chance. Who here thinks they could take me?"
I got up, pushed people out of the way and forced myself into the middle of the 'ring'. I threw away my old cigarette, flicked my lighter and held the flame to the tip of the new one, and inhaled deep.
Puffing smoke, I faced down my bloodthirsty, rage-addicted girlfriend.
"I do."
"Jack?" she asked.
"Yep," I said simply.
"What are you doing here?"
I shrugged. "Came to find you."
Jackie folded her arms and glared at me. "Fuck off. I'm not going anywhere with you."
I sighed. "We've been through this before. I know I can't make you do anything you don't want to do."
"You think I'm kidding? You think I'm lying? I'm leaving you," she said. "We're done. Don't come near me."
But I saw the truth in her eyes. She was surprised, shocked even, to see me here. She hadn't been expecting me to come after her.
"Jackie, let's go home."
"I don't have a home," she snapped.
The crowd began jeering. "Get on with it!"
"Start the fight!"
"You know the rules, Jackie," rumbled a massive krogan by the counter. "If this is his first night here – he has to fight."
Fine by me.
I shrugged off my jacket. I took off my shades. I tore off my shirt. I kicked off my boots. Soon I was dressed exactly like Jackie. I kept my cigarette though.
"What the fuck are you doing?" she said in a low tone.
"I've had a revelation," I said cheerily, as if we weren't surrounded by a bloodthirsty crowd.
"What?"
"I tried to bring you into my world. Too much, too soon. You were hurt, Jackie. Whatever happens, you will always carry some memory of the pain with you. I thought I could make it all better with a few words and kisses. It doesn't work that way," I said.
"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about," she growled.
"Shut up and listen," I said. "It wasn't fair of me to expect you to come into my life and expect you to change to suit my needs. To suit my ideals. You are who you are, Jackie. I have to accept that. And if your world entails beating other people to a bloody pulp in this godawful shithole...then I'm going to be the first asshole to take a swing from you."
"You think you're better than me," snarled Jackie.
"No, I don't. Right here, right now? Nothing else matters. I'm not a hero. You're not Subject Zero. We're just two fighters getting ready to kick the shit out of each other. What matters is the moment."
"Don't think I'll go easy on you," said Jackie, beginning to move around. "Because I won't."
I finished the last of my cigarette and stubbed it out on the floor with my heel.
"Fine by me."
Jackie lunged forward and it was on.
She had the speed and agility, and raw, primal fury that could quickly overwhelm an opponent taken off guard. But I was trained. I'd been in hand to hand fights to the death before. You either got good at it or died in a hurry.
Jackie telegraphed every action she made, and it was child's play for me to anticipate her movements by reading the subtle muscle movements and shifts of weight. I matched her superior speed by always being one step ahead.
But all you need is one lucky break. Jackie took a swing that I didn't quite manage to dodge and cracked me on the jaw. I spun around sideways before regaining my balance.
Jackie stopped moving, and was staring at me with mixed horror and fascination. Slowly, I brought my hand up to my mouth. It came away bloody. A tooth had been knocked loose.
"Jack, I -"
I raised a hand, before bending over and spitting out a mouthful of blood. Then I looked at her again.
"I want you to hit me as hard as you can," I said.
"Why?"
"Maybe it'll be good for you. Drain your rage. If we don't sort out your problems, both of us will die. So hit me. As hard as you can. As much as you want. Whatever you give me, I can take it."
"I don't think -"
"So don't think. Just fuckin' do it. Beat me up if you want to. Break my bones. Crack my skull. I won't lift a finger," I said.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You can't live without violence? You get warm feelings during a fight? Then go ahead! HIT ME!"
"I will!" yelled Jackie.
"Good! When you hit me, I won't hit you back. When you hit me, you're safe!"
Jackie screamed and gave me a roundhouse kick straight to the solar plexus. I saw it coming, didn't do anything about it, and flew about ten feet backwards.
I lay on the ground, accepting the pain. This was fine. Pain I could handle. Pain and I were old friends. Physical pain, at least.
"Finish it!" yelled someone.
Jackie stood over me, looking down. I stared up at her through half-closed eyes.
"Tell me why, Jack," she said softly, so that only I could hear.
I hacked a cough and spit out more blood. "Because I'm in love with you."
If I thought that would melt her heart I was dead wrong. Jackie drove her fist at the place where my head was a second ago before I rolled out of the way. There was a guttural roar of appreciation from the crowd in anticipation of violence to come.
"You stupid, selfish prick!" she screamed, lashing out with her foot again. I jumped off the ground and barely avoided being knocked down again.
"Things were so much fucking easier when you weren't around!" A right hook, ducked just in time.
"You're the worst thing that ever happened to me!"
Terrible words. But they revealed a truth. Jackie was talking again. Expressing her emotions in the heat of battle. Fighting was what she grew up on, and maybe it was here she could communicate best. I knew I wasn't literally the worst thing that had ever happened to her, given her history.
But for the first time, she had given her heart to someone who had hurt her, however inadvertently. She had to hate how vulnerable she was, all because of her emotions. She was trying to push me away, I knew that. I had to keep showing her I would always be there for her, no matter what.
I blocked her jab with my forearm and laughed. "And you're the best," I said, with perfect truth.
Jackie stopped and looked at me like I was insane. Maybe I was.
"I've always known I'm a fucked up bitch, Jack. I've never met anyone more fucked up than me. Except you," she spat.
"I don't care. I only care about you," I said.
Jackie raised her hand, then lowered it.
"No. I won't do this any more," she said slowly.
"Huh?"
"That's it. I'm done."
Jackie turned her back and walked away. I blinked. My head was ringing and the space where my tooth used to be was really killing me. The adrenaline high was wearing off and I felt incredibly weary. Going back to the Normandy and letting Dr Chakwas take a look at me seemed like a great idea.
The huge krogan lumbered over, and pushed Jack back into the 'ring'.
"He didn't say stop, or tap out, or go limp. It's not over," he said ominously.
"It's over when I say it's over, asshole," said Jack, a blue glow suddenly surrounding her fist. But before she could make another move I heard the unmistakeable sound of firearms being cocked and loaded.
"You know rule six. No shirt, no shoes, no shields, no biotics."
"Look, I'll drop out," I said. "I don't want any trouble."
Don't you now, whispered a voice in my mind.
"That's not how it works, replied the krogan, before being shoved aside by another krogan. I thought I'd seen big krogan before. This guy was bigger. He was taller than Wrex, who was the biggest krogan I'd ever seen. And he looked pissed.
"Are you the little pyjak who stole my ryncol?" he demanded.
Uh-oh.
Things change when you're fighting for your life. It's probably an evolutionary measure left over from the days when we still had to hunt our own meat.
Outside sound deadens to a dull whine. Your reactions ramp up to unexpected levels. Your mind works faster than you ever thought possible. Your body doesn't even care, making its own decisions. No time for thought when instinct is called for.
The krogan was built like a skyscraper, but he was slow. As beat up and big and clumsy as I was, I was still faster than him. I was counting on that fact to save my life, because a single hit from him would break every bone in my body. I was under no delusions.
Every time I'd faced krogan I had a weapon in my hand. Now I had nothing save my bare fists. This wasn't a fight. This was suicide. This was a delayed execution. He was going to kill me, it was just a matter of time. I should have been staining my new jeans in terror and begging and grovelling for mercy.
Except I wasn't. My mouth was hanging open and I suddenly realised I was laughing hysterically. In light of what had happened to me, fighting for my life against a maddened krogan seemed like the perfect symbol of my existence. Always against the odds. But never backing down, even to the point of madness.
The krogan turned around and charged. I hit the floor and slid between his legs to the other side. Before he could react I nailed a perfect dropkick to the back of his head.
It hurt like a bitch. I think I broke both my heels. Yeah, I wasn't going to win this one.
As I struggled to keep my balance I tried to recall everything Wrex ever told me about fighting krogan. I could hear his gravelly voice as though he was standing right beside me.
Before
"A real krogan doesn't have any weaknesses, Shepard," Wrex said.
"Oh yeah? So how come I've killed so many?" I asked.
"You were holding a gun, you idiot. One on one, you'd lose."
"As if. You and me, right now. Let's go."
"I'd kill you," he said.
"Please."
"No, I'd kill you," said the big lizard with perfect honesty. "I'm armoured all over. My headplate could survive a shotgun blast. I could break your bones with one punch. And you'll die of old age before I get tired."
"So how does a human punch out a krogan?"
Wrex shrugged.
"When krogan fight other krogan, they either go for the eyes...or the quads. Heh heh heh."
Now
Eyes and quads. Eyes and quads. Thank you, Wrex.
I threw my hands in the air and screamed at the big krogan.
"Come on, motherfucker!"
The crowd was screaming for blood. But they liked that I was grandstanding a little before my inevitable death.
The krogan rushed towards me again. Before he could squash me like a bug, I leapt into the air and lashed out at his left eye with my foot. My big toe must have poked him good, because he bellowed in pain and staggered backwards. This was my chance. Perhaps the only one I had.
I jabbed at his injured eye, knuckled extended so the point would drive straight into the soft jelly. I did it again and again, not letting up. The krogan roared and swiped at me with his claws, barely missing my unprotected abdomen. One swipe would open me up like a gutted fish.
I attacked his eye for the final time and felt a rush of pure delight as it collapsed and gushed out some kind sticky fluid. I had gotten too close, and the krogan ripped at me, slashing bright red lines from my shoulder to my hip. But the cuts were shallow, and they would heal. His ruined eye would not.
"I'LL KILL YOU, HUMAN!" howled the krogan.
"Stop talking about killing me and kill me, you piece of shit," I spat.
Endgame. Time to finish it. Or die. Either possibility seemed just as likely.
I dropped to the floor again to slide under him. Only I wasn't trying to escape, but because it was a prime position to go for the quads. I pistoned both legs directly into sweet spot, with as much force as I could muster.
The krogan toppled like a chopped tree and hit the floor with a resounding crash. I leapt on him and hammered at his other eye with both fists. He slashed at me again and again, but not being able to see properly he missed all the vital organs. Flesh wounds would heal, leaving just scars.
"Give up, you fucking moron!" I yelled.
"Not...to a human..." he growled.
I stuck my finger in his other eye. "Your choice."
The krogan bucked and writhed, trying to throw me off, but I hung on like grim death. Once he was blinded I would have a chance to survive.
To my amazement, the krogan hit the floor with his hand. Then again.
"He tapped out! Fight's over!" screamed a frenzied salarian.
A hush descended on the room as I got to my feet.
"Anyone else want to fuck with me?" I mumbled.
Silence met my challenge.
"Good."
I was bleeding like a stuck pig from a dozen different wounds. If anyone else stepped up to take me on, I would go down easier than an asari whore. I hoped with all my might they'd be too intimidated to actually do it.
To my utter relief, they bought it. The crowd broke up and went back to their drinks as though nothing happened. I searched around for my smokes and lit up a fresh stick. The nicotine flooding my body was the sweetest thing I ever tasted.
"You are one fucked up son of a bitch," Jackie said.
Scratch that. A memory of lips on mine. Make that the sweetest.
Jackie came up to me, her expression inscrutable. She placed her hands on my bare chest delicately.
"You're bleeding." My blood stained her hands, layering red over her ink.
"It's fine, really. I wouldn't want to die without a few scars," I said, swaying slightly on my feet.
"You're different. Tell me what happened."
Smoke billowed out of my nostrils. "I uh, was fired."
"From where?"
"The Alliance. They gave me a dishonourable discharge."
"Fucking assholes!" exclaimed Jackie.
"I thought you hated the Alliance," I said, surprised.
"Well yeah. But I know how much it means to you, being a soldier and everything."
I laughed. "Marine. Yeah, look at me. I stop being a marine for one day and I'm about to pass out from blood loss after having punched out a krogan. But you know what? I don't give a fuck."
"You don't?"
"Because I'm standing here with you. You know what I love about you, Jackie?"
Jackie looked away, as if dreading to hear the answer. I gently turned her head to face me.
"Hey, listen to me. It's because you live life on your own terms. No rules beyond what you make."
"But I'm not right," she said stubbornly. "I'm messed up."
"So am I. I've lost everything I ever had. But it's only after you've lost everything that you're free. Complete and utter freedom, for the first time in my life."
"You're wrong," she said quietly.
"Sorry?"
"You haven't lost everything. You have the ship. You have the crew. And you have...you have me."
She came close and wrapped her arms around me. "You came back for me. Even after I told you to fuck off."
"I know you can leave whenever you want," I said. "But not before I let you know how I really feel. I'd rather be with you down here than with anyone else up there. If you still want to go, I won't stop you. But I'd rather you stayed."
"I don't want to hurt anymore. You have me, Jack," she said again.
"And you have me," I said, kissing her. "Not Commander Shepard. That asshole's dead. He died two years ago. Today just makes it official."
"Good, I never liked the sound of that prick anyway. Come on. Let's go home."
With our arms around each other, Jackie and I headed out. Back to the Normandy.
"You know, you met me at a very strange time of my life."
"Jack, it doesn't take a fucking genius to see that."
Afterword:
Wow, that's done. This chapter was actually continued on from the previous one. It got a little out of hand, so I split it in two. A lot of changes are happening to Shepard, not all of them positive. I believe it's important to address a flawed Shepard, how he reacts and changes to the change happening all around him. A Shepard that remains static is a boring Shepard, but that doesn't make the new Shepard necessarily better than the old one. Absolute freedom is a monumental concept that most people aren't quite able to handle. We'll see how it goes. Keep reading, and take care.