Soul of the Vanguard: A Mass Effect Saga

JANE SHEPARD'S FIRST HAND ACCOUNT

From: shammond@sawcc.gov 

Subject: Application No. 11042154 / First Hand Account

O/B/O SA J Briggs.

Date: September 9, 2177 CE

Dear Committee,

Please see below Jane Shepard's firsthand written account.

I was just a teenager back on Mindoir when all of this unfolded. My parents were leaders of this cult, a splinter from the main colony. They were obsessed with creating these super Biotics, these so-called prophets. The others were called Betas by my parents - two of them, not counting me. The Betas were used for experiments, subjects for every dangerous procedure they could think of. Every mistake, every ounce of pain, they endured it all. One day, they found out - discovered what my parents had done to them, and they turned on me. It was a day I'll never forget - the chaos, the destruction they wrought with their Biotics and fury. I couldn't really blame them, not entirely. I tried to keep clear of the innocent bystanders, but it was a monumental struggle. I managed to break away and hide in the abandoned community centre. When the Betas went crazy, all the children were taken out of the schools and centres so I thought it was a safe place to hide. I was still scared of the Betas, they were so angry and powerful. Then, there was this boy, the Governor's son, about eight years old. He had a fascination with superheroes, believed I was one. When he saw me use my Biotics, he believed I was a hero, just like one of those comic book tales he loved. He used to follow me everywhere, he once told me his name was "Junior." He was a great kid. The Sword Beta, filled with rage, found me and cornered me in the community centre. I tried to reason with Sword, but the kid must have heard my voice because it was at this moment he appeared, he came rushing in, drawn by the clamour, the thrill. Poor kid, he had no idea what he was walking into. Then, it happened. He broke a bottle, catching Sword's attention. The Beta turned on him without a second thought. A pulse of energy came from Sword's outstretched hand, sending the boy hurtling through the kitchen wall and smashing me to the ground. It hurt, bad, I was dazed. When that bastard sent the poor boy through the drywall, it must've ruptured a fuel line because it sparked a small explosion and a terrible fire. It all happened so fast. I sprinted toward the breach in the wall, desperate to save him. But I was too late. Junior had stopped screaming, he was gone. One of Regis's men entered at that moment, just as the boy met that wall of flames. He saw me, the boy's brief screams now silent, lifeless. Our eyes met, a shared moment of sheer horror. He didn't know where to place the blame. In that instant, he radioed the Governor. Seconds later, there was an explosion in the main facility, followed by the strangest sound, that immediately made Sword, the Beta that had just murdered a child, turn and bolt heading back toward the cult's lair. Strange though, he had me, he could have finished me. I suppose he thought I was not a worthy enough opponent, that I was already beaten. I assumed he wanted to hurt me in another way, a worse way - to end my parents' lives and all those close to me. I couldn't allow the Betas to harm anyone else. I'd rather face my own end than shy away from a fight that I was likely going to lose and die. The boy still smouldering, I did what I could to put the fire out. Regis's man even started helping me, but shortly after that awful sound started, he snapped out of it and bolted in the direction of the lab, totally abandoning the attempt and recovering the poor boy's body. Then, I remember feeling this rage, but more like a burning, a surge within me - different from anything I had felt before. It was unlike anything I'd ever known. Biotic energy surged through my veins. I gathered myself and cleared my mind. I couldn't save the boy, I made a vow, right then and there. They would pay, all of them! I raced toward our lab, leaving the fire raging and that poor boy's body behind. I've never forgotten his face. I still get nightmares. He is always out of reach, burning. It's horrible. I guess it's my fault it happened, so I live with it. The surge of determination and anger coursing through my being carried me forward. The Betas, driven by their own anger and pain, left a trail of devastation which led the way toward the enclave. The very air seemed to thrum with tension, each step echoing like a heartbeat of my impending doom. As I neared the cave entrance, where the sound seemed to be coming from, I had to step over glass, rubble...bodies - friends, children. It was hell. Finally, I reached the antechamber leading to the entrance. Both Sword and Shield were trying to breach the door, easily dispatching Regis's men who were also trying to get into the cave, to the scientists, to my parents. Then, the craziest thing happened - the sound, well, not really a sound, but the sensation from the cave suddenly intensified. Regis's men who were initially fighting with the Betas to get into the cave, some of them turned on each other. They were muttering some shit about protecting the monolith - "The Darkness must not be... revealed" or something similar, was all they were saying. My memories, they get a little blurry from then, like a drunken dream. But like watching a movie, I saw Biotics clashing, a symphony of power that resonated through the desecrated halls. I could feel the energy building within me, a tempest ready to be unleashed. With every fibre of my being, I summoned a torrent of Biotic, something, a wave, a blast, just as much energy as I could gather, bathing the room in an incandescent glow. The Betas responded in kind, their own energies converging in a cataclysmic clash. We charged headlong into the maelstrom, a quartet of forces locked in a deadly dance. The very foundations of the enclave quaked beneath us, echoing the intensity of our battle. Strangely, the floor rocked, explosions from outside could be heard, bombs were landing, it felt like the whole world was ending. Then, the world seemed to totally fragment, shattered like glass. My memories turned to snapshots. The next coherent image is of waking amidst a ruin, my parents pinned by rubble and I could only reach my mom's hand, the cave groaning and threatening to collapse. I remember, I remember trying to summon a protective barrier, a last-ditch effort to shield my Mom and Dad from the impending disaster. They were holding each other and had enough room to hold out a hand to reach mine. My last vivid memory is seeing the terror and imminent death in my parents' faces. After that, everything fades. It's as though my mind erected a barrier, a shield of its own to protect me against the memories that followed. What happened in those final moments is a void, a chasm in my recollection. Maybe for the better, that's the last time I saw them, alive. The next conscious breath I drew was in the sterile confines of an Alliance hospital. The scent of antiseptic, the distant hum of machinery – it was a contrast to the chaos that had defined my existence for so long. The weight of what had transpired settled in my bones, a burden I carry to this day, along with my nightmares.

Therapist's Reflection:

Jane Shepard's account is an intense narrative, vividly recounting the traumatic events of Mindoir. The cataclysmic showdown in the enclave is described with a vividness that brings the raw power and the clash of Biotic energies to life. The overwhelming destruction paints a haunting picture of the chaos that unfolded. The subsequent blackout in Jane Shepard's memory is a striking detail. It hints at a psychological defense mechanism, a barrier erected to shield her from potentially even more traumatic memories. This is not uncommon in individuals who have experienced severe trauma. It's a self-protective measure, a way for the mind to shield itself from overwhelming distress. The shift to the hospital scene marks a stark contrast, a transition from chaos to clinical order. The antiseptic scent, the distant hum of machinery - these sensory details create a vivid backdrop for her awakening. The weight of the events that transpired hangs heavily, an ever-present burden. It's clear that delving into these suppressed memories and processing the trauma of that day will be a central focus of our therapeutic work. The barriers her mind erected may hold the key to unlocking the healing process. It's crucial to approach this with sensitivity and care, ensuring she feels supported and in control of the process. Our sessions will be a safe space for Jane Shepard to explore these memories at her own pace. Together, we'll navigate through the complexities of her experiences, with the ultimate goal of helping her find healing and resolution. It's a courageous step forward, and I'm here to support her every step of the way.

Report compiled by

Dr. Sara Jean Hammond

L.C.P.C.

S.Hammond.

Alliance Certified Neuropsychologist