stxsis:

     They weren’t nearly as similar in thought as Shepard had hoped they’d be. The other woman truly had no regard for life aside from her own— human or otherwise. “I disagree. You’re not here so that Cerberus can get a return on their investment. You’re not here because you have no purpose in life but destruction. And you’re certainly not here because you’re property.” She paused, let that sink in a bit. “You’re here because I went and got you. I don’t work for Cerberus and neither do you. I asked you to join my mission, and it is a mission to save lives. If we have to take lives to do that, then so be it. But that is neither my purpose, nor yours. Not if you don’t want it to be.” The blonde paused and leaned her back against the metal plating of a wall, one knee bent to place her foot on the wall. She considered Jack’s questions. They had likely been asked rhetorically, meant to fuel her own diatribe, but the commander considered it anyways.

     Her idea of what constituted ‘human nature’ often seemed to bleed into other species. Perhaps it was the nature of all organics to go to war. “We are animals, yes. We fight ourselves, each other. We fight for resources, for territory, over beliefs— and for reasons I can’t begin to understand. We fight out of fear, mostly. Anger.” This last word was punctuated with a higher level of emotion than the beginning of the sentiment. “Sometimes retribution.” Her gaze directed itself at the other woman here. “And maybe those are stupid fucking reasons to kill each other. Maybe I’m not enough of a diplomat… not enough of a saint, to be preaching peace. But right now, we don’t have the luxury of peace. There is something coming to kill us, all of us.

     ”This isn’t some petty squabble, some disagreement that got out of hand— we are fighting for survival. We are fighting against death itself. Out of all the people on this ship right now, I would have thought you’d be the last person to ask me why fight. I fight because I will not lay down and die. Because I’m not afraid to bleed… I fight because there are people who aren’t strong enough to fight death on their own. And what do I get for defending their lives? Not much, really. Nothing you’d appreciate, I guess. Right now, you get these files. Maybe that’s enough for you. Maybe it isn’t. I can’t make that call, only you can.” She hesitated, considering the last question Jack had asked her. That was more difficult to answer.

     ”I’m not sure I understand what you mean… are you asking me how I feel when I fail to save someone I had intended to protect, or how I feel when I deliberately kill someone— because those are two different feelings.” She raised an eyebrow at the other woman. 

         "Shepard do you really believe your optimism is going to cure me of my true nature? I’m a weapon, a sin. I’m everything Cerberus wanted me to be, denied me hope, any sort of fucking happiness for as long as I could remember. When I finally escaped that hell hole I just keep digging deeper and deeper in my grave until I couldn’t see the sight of green anymore. Just fucking dirt.“ However, the Commander spoke truth and this bothered the heavily tattooed woman. Jack knew that Shepard came to request her help because of her capabilities. But in return Jack was promised her file on her from when she was a child. This was something Jack had wanted the most in her entire life, to know who exactly she was. Hunched over with both arms resting on her knees she looked up and gazed at the blonde woman with lifeless eyes–well, they started to feel warm to her, almost alive again. Shepard had died and Cerberus brought her back. To be honest, Jack would still be in Cryostasis if they hadn’t brought Shepard back. Then she’d really have no purpose. 

"I get it I get it, you’re a goddamn hero and you fight for the weak. Where were you when I needed to escape from being experimented on?” Jack meant her words to come off as a tease but somehow it sounded solemn, distraught. “Driven by anger, and defense would be fear? Do you know what I am Shepard? I’m a fucking psychopath, do you know what that means? I have no remorse or empathy for the actions I take–I intend to kill–I find pleasure from watching people fucking die and is that alright? When I fight someone it’s not because I’m afraid or I’m pissed, well mostly pissed, but it’s because I have no other emotion left but to find some sick enjoyment of knowing this motherfucker is dead and I’m alive.” The Convict’s hand movements suggested that she was emotional at the moment, thinking about everything she had done and more. Shepard was such a better person than her, and here was Jack the psychopath who deliberately killed, did drugs, run with gangs and never once tried to be a good person.

                                                                   Was helping Shepard her outlet to change?

Jack got to her feet and paced around the small room, her jumpsuit hanging off her hips and breast belt tight around her torso. A small colorful hand with D E A D written on pale white knuckles ran over the fuzz of Jack’s scalp. “Let’s go with the second one since we’re on the topic.”