Disclaimer: Mass Effect and all its characters belong to Bioware.

Hellhound

Mindoir, 2168

A young John Shepard sat alone at an aged wooden table in the small inn's tavern, staring at the bottom of his empty mug.

"Waiting to pick up Izzy again, John?" The old barkeep, a pitcher of warm cider in his hand, had ambled up to where the fourteen-year-old boy sat.

"Yea, well, you know my parents. Can't let her make the trip home alone in the dark," John said in an exasperated tone.

The barkeep gave a wrinkled smile. "Quite the responsible young man you're becoming, eh John?" The old man sat down on the other side of the table to rest his wearied legs and began to refill Shepard's mug.

John quickly reached his hand over the mug, causing the barkeep to look up quizzically.

"I just came to pick up Izzy. Plus, I don't have anything I could use to pay for it."

"Nonsense, John. I've known your family for ages and I owe them more favors than I can count. Now give it here."

John grinned and, as he was always willing to accept free cider when offered, took back his hand.

As the old man poured, Shepard's eyes began to scan the room. They passed over the tavern's usual customers, its familiar dark wooden paneling, and finally froze on a woman sitting in the back corner.

Her skin was milky white – a telltale sign she couldn't be from around here where everyone worked on the farms under the sun day in day out, especially now that it was harvesting time – and her hair was an intoxicating raven black. The girl, whose age hung somewhere between teenager and young woman, sat alone, totally disinterested in the rest of the tavern, her attention devoted to the omnitool she was tapping commands into.

The old man saw John's eyes widen and freeze and a subtle red begin working into his cheeks. He looked behind him to where the boy was staring and laughed when he spotted the object of John's attentions.

"From what I gathered, she just arrived in town today. No idea what's she doing here though, and quite frankly she hasn't been too keen on sharing. No man that's been up to talk to her has managed to get more than a polite refusal. Except Jacobson's boy." The old man gave a hearty laugh. "His insistence earned him a broken nose, courtesy of the young lady."

Shepard could hardly hear the barkeep speak. His head had decided she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and his pounding heart seemed to agree.

Suddenly the young woman looked up and trained her eyes directly on John, as if she had known he had been shamelessly staring at her for the last five minutes. John looked away and, hands nervous, picked up his newly refilled cup of cider and began chugging away. John, who was still watching the girl through the corner of his eye (though not as discretely as he believed), saw her stand up and begin walking in a beeline straight to where he sat. Those hips…

The barkeep started chuckling and stood up. "Well then, John, I'll leave you to it." He picked up the pitcher and returned to his normal station behind the bar.

John had long since finished the cider, but kept the oversized mug held up to his mouth, hoping it would be enough to keep the girl from seeing his bright red face while he tried to calm himself down. Soon enough, however, the girl was standing right in front of him on the other side of the table and, after an awkward moment's pause, he finally lowered the glass.

He looked up.

As beautiful as the girl had been from across the room, she was even more breathtaking up close. John quickly lost himself in her stormy eyes, her luscious lips, the gentle curve of her jaw…

"John Shepard, I presume." Shocked that she knew his name, and still reeling over the fact she had actually approached him, John coughed up some of his cider.

He quickly clasped his hand over his mouth, forced himself to swallow, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and met her gaze.

"Yea," was all he managed to get out.

"My name is Miranda Lawson. There's something I'd like to talk to you about." Her tone was cold and business-like.

Instead of replying (which, considering John's state, was actually completely beyond his current capacity), John just kept staring up at her dumbly.

Miranda stared down at the boy, waiting for a reply. She cocked her eyebrow when she failed to get one. This is who they sent me out into the Attican Traverse to talk to?

The boy finally managed to choke out a response. "Um, sure. What is it?"

"In private, John. If I can call you that."

John kept staring at the girl, her accented pronunciation of his name echoing in his ears. "Y-yea," he stuttered. He kept sitting there until he finally registered his words. "Oh, right. Um, outside?" The girl nodded.

John stood up and walked around the table towards the exit. As he passed her, he deeply inhaled her scent. Like everything else about her, it was intoxicating.

He pushed open the heavy door and nearly tripped over the threshold. When he recovered, he nervously went back to the door and held it open for her as she walked out.

They stepped out into the muggy summer night, and as the heavy door closed again, stood together, listening to the loud chirps of the local fauna.

The girl turned on her heel and faced him. Now that John was standing, he realized that she was actually a few inches taller than him, and felt foolish.

"It's about your biotics."

John immediately went on the defensive. Nobody but his family knew about that. In a community that was as small-minded as it was just plain small, John had been careful to keep others from finding out. He knew what happened to a lot of biotics once they were found out, after all.

He stepped away from her and addressed her firmly. Fear for himself and his family clearly outweighed the nervousness he had had towards her before. "How do you know about that?"

Miranda was surprised at the quick change that overcame the lanky teen. His brow had furrowed, his eyes had become dark, and his jaw had locked in place.

"I work for an organization that's very good at finding people like you."

"What organization?"

"Cerberus."

"Never heard of them."

"Considering where you live, I don't find that fact particularly surprising. Cerberus is a human survivalist group. We work to advance humanity and its position in the galactic community."

"Isn't that what the Alliance does?"

"Hardly. The Alliance is too busy playing by Council rules. Catering to their whims. Cerberus isn't constrained by such things. We're willing to go farther to achieve more."

"'Isn't constrained'? It sounds to me like you guys are just criminals! What do you people even want from me?"

"According to our intel, you have incredible biotic potential. For now, we only want to help you tap into that potential."

"For now?"

"Ultimately, of course, we'd like you to join the organization."

"Cerberus," John said, if only to etch the name into his memory.

"Yes."

"Well you can forget it. I believe in the Alliance and I won't-"

"John!" John looked over and saw Izzy sprinting towards him. "Why are you out h-" she suddenly stopped when she saw Miranda. "Oh. Should I…?"

"No, that's quite alright." The raven-haired beauty turned and began walking away. "Just think about what I said, John. Even if you don't want to join."

Once Miranda was out of earshot, Izzy looked up at her brother. "Who was she?"

Shepard walked over to where he had left his bike. "Nobody. Now c'mon. Let's go home."

A/N: You made it to the bottom? Awesome! I must be doing something right XD