The Vancouver Public Library was expansive, and looked so advanced from what Jasen was used to. After he checked in with the Librarian and she directed him to where the computer terminals were and gave him a log in. He realized it became the quieter the higher he went.
By the time I reached the third floor, the sounds of the city had dulled into a distant murmur through reinforced glass. A few people sat scattered between terminals and chairs between book shelves. A mixture of students, older man and woman reading a physical book, someone asleep with earbuds in.
No one paid me any attention which I thought was perfect.
I claimed a terminal near the window. From here, I had a clear view of the street below—cars moving in steady lines, pedestrians weaving through crosswalks, alleyways half-hidden between buildings.
I activated my omni-tool and synced it with the terminal. I then got to work.
I started with the local records. Public birth records, school registries, census data—filtered by Vancouver, then narrowed by age. Shepard wasn't that much of a common surname, but I was looking for something specific. A John or Jane around my age. Anything that fit.
But after close to 30 minutes shifting through everything I found nothing. So I pushed deeper.
Private school systems. Foster care databases. Medical records. Vaccination schedules. I threaded through systems carefully, Cerberus really taught me well.
Still nothing.
No Shepard of my age range. No anomalies. No disappearances. No sealed juvenile files either "Great nothing again."
I leaned back slightly, stretching my neck. Then I tried military-adjacent records.
This was gonna take a little longer. Alliance systems security were layered, redundant, and annoyingly well-designed. I didn't want to brute-force anything—that would set off alarms. I used public commendations and award notices, filtered through ships that allowed Military personnel to have their families abored.
That's when I found something. A Hannah Shepard. Not my age but she fits the file I have for the spacer route Shepard who had parents.
A commendation ceremony, archived six years back. A holo-clip attached to a local article.
I opened it.
She stood at a podium in formal Alliance uniform, a little young but unmistakable. In her speech, she thanked her commanding officers.
Then her crew. Then briefly her family. "My husband and my son," she said. "For their patience. And for understanding why this work matters."
My mind began to race. Spacer route. Confirmation is now 45 percent. Now I need to find out what ship she is stationed on, and I can get the ship crew records from there. That meant Shepard wouldn't be here Earth at all. Oh well I'm still were I need to be so I can go to the Marines when I get older.
I hacked into the Alliance records and found it within minutes. I leaned back stretching, and staring at the ceiling for a moment. That answer was right there and I was about to find out the truth. I cracked my knuckles and leaned forward again, preparing to dig deeper— That's when I noticed movement outside.
Not on the street but In the alley.
I turned slightly, eyes narrowing as I focused through the glass. I recognized Victoria easily.
She stood near the mouth of the alley, hands in her hoodie pockets, posture loose—but not relaxed. Five kids surrounded her. They were close, and looked aggressive. Their body language set off alarms in my head immediately.
I sighed softly. She can handle herself, I told myself.
I turned back to the terminal. Then one of the boys punched her in the face. I couldn't hear it but I could see that it hurt her. I was out of my seat before I consciously decided to move.
I shut down the terminal mid-session, rose, and walked fast—then faster—down the stairs, through the main floor, and out the side entrance of the library. And headed to the alley was slick with old water and oil stains.
Voices echoed.
"You think you can mess with the Tenth Street Reds, bitch?"
"Your the one messing with me." She said.
Victoria was on the ground, already rolling to one knee. She grabbed a loose rock and smashed it into the boy's face before he could finish his sentence.
"Damn, Finch—are you okay?" someone shouted.
The boy Finch spat blood onto the pavement and laughed, wiping his lip with the back of his hand.
"You're gonna pay for that."
Victoria squared up, jaw tight, fists clenched. That's when I stepped in. I crossed the distance in three strides. My foot planted squarely into Finch's face. The impact lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing backward into two of his friends. They went down easily.
Victoria stared at me, wide-eyed.
"So," I said calmly, not taking my eyes off the group, "should I assume that when you say you're 'clearing your head,' it's code for getting into street fights?"
She pushed herself fully upright. "It's not like that. He tried to flirt with me. I told him no. He didn't like that."
I glanced at Finch, who was dragging himself upright, eyes blazing.
"He grabbed me" Victoria added flatly. "So I hit him."
That was more fair. I counted the group Five boys. One person hanging back near the alley wall—shorter, leaner. A girl from what I can tell. I stepped forward slightly, positioning myself between Victoria and the group.
"I'm going to give you one chance," I said evenly. "Apologize to my friend. Then fuck off!"
Finch wiped his mouth again and this time looking pissed. "You think I'm apologizing after you kicked my face in?"
"Learn to take the answer no then." I said coolly.
He gestured sharply. "Get them."
I exhaled and nodded once.
"Victoria. Back up."
She didn't argue.
The first boy came in swinging wide—too wide. I slipped inside the punch and drove a short right hook into his jaw. He dropped instantly.
Two more rushed me with metal poles.They swung. I raised my arms and blocked.
The poles bent. The alley went quiet.
Before they could react, I stepped forward and gut-checked both of them in quick succession. Air exploded out of their lungs as they collapsed, gasping.
A bigger kid charged from my left. I pivoted, kicked his shin sideways, and heard something pop. He screamed and went down. Two sharp strikes to the face ended the fight for him. I then turned back to Finch.
He stared at me like he'd just realized he made a terrible mistake.
" What the hell are you?" he muttered.
I shrugged. "Some random twelve-year-old nobody."
I stepped closer slowly. "But I'm friends with this lovely lady," I added, glancing at Victoria, "and you owe her an apology."
Finch sneered. "In your dreams. I'm not apologizing to that bitch."
He turned sharply. "Jane. Take care of this guy."
The girl stepped forward. Fair skin. Short ginger hair tide into a pony tail in a black cap. She wore Baggy blue jeans. A Orange crop tank. She had a lean, athletic frame, she looked petite but strong at the same time. I could see the early definition of muscle in her abs, arms, and traps the kind earned, not just aesthetic.
She looked annoyed.
"Finch," she said flatly, "you started it. Now our guys are hurt because of you."
"I'm the leader," Finch snapped. "Do what I say."
She sighed and rolled her shoulders, stepping into the open space between us.
I felt it then. That same sensation I'd felt sparring with Vorgath. Not fear or hostility, but a slight pressure of intimidation .
Something coiled beneath the surface. She raised her hands and I met her gaze.
This will be interesting, and she's even more interesting.