Beginnings

"Let's just get this over with."

Jack cracked her knuckles as about as indelicately as she could and then stretched her arms out in front of her. She walked a few steps from him, unable to shake the feeling of his gaze. She hated being watched. Her entire childhood had been observed, recorded and calculated. She didn't need that shit now. And yet everywhere she turned on this fucking ship there was someone looking at her like she belonged under a microscope.

She sent a look back at the drell who still hadn't moved. Her stomach tightened. She found the look on his face infuriated her most of all. It even gave the Cerberus bitch a run for her money. At least the cheerleader wasn't shy about her dislike for her. She looked at Jack like she wanted to put her head on a spike. And Jack could deal with that. She lived for that kind of animosity. It made her skin tingle.

But she hated, hated, hated when people looked at her like they understood her. Thane's eyes searched hers in steady patterns. She was wholly convinced she was long past having a soul and yet she felt him poking around for it. She shot him a glare, which he deflected with a soft nod.

She almost wanted to tell him that there wasn't anything left for him to find. She'd made sure of that when she first escaped the facility. There was no goodness inside her, no light and not one redeeming quality. She'd erased all of that shit in order to survive. And she'd do it again if she had to.

"I thought we might start with a few simple exercises," Thane started.

He stepped up beside her.

"Just tell me what you want me to do," she said through clenched teeth.

"Hit me."

That caught her off guard. She turned her head, eyes flickering at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You wish for the opportunity to fully express your power," he reasoned, "I would like you to direct it at me."

Well, shit. He did know who he was talking to, right? She gave him a look over, as a predator might size up her prey. He was lean. Tall. Disciplined in every line and curve of his physique. He knew what he was doing, sure. But she'd taken out mechs three times his size before. Thane didn't look quite up to the challenge. And wasn't he dying or something?

Jack shrugged her shoulders. Fuck it. If he wanted her to hit him with everything she had, then why the fuck not? If Krios died on her watch there'd be video surveillance to convince Shepard that it wasn't her fault anyway.

"Whatever you say," she sneered.

She backed up a step from him and her body charged blue. Ripples of biotic energy coursed from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She shuddered with the feeling. A familiar thirst scratched in the bottom of her throat. With a loud cry, she started at a run for the assassin. The energy surged through her as she neared him.

Thane didn't move. He regarded her with a smooth face as she approached. She was convinced he was really just going to stand there and take it for a second. And she wondered briefly just how messy this was going to be for him. But just as she was about to slam the full brunt of her power into him, he disappeared.

Just like that. One second he was there, the next he wasn't. And before she could backpedal something kicked her feet out from under her. With a loud curse Jack went sprawling on her back. The reverberations from the unreleased biotic power felt like they were going to jar her skeleton right out of her body. She gritted her teeth through the wave and as soon as her brain stopped rattling, she snarled.

"What the fuck?"

She popped up onto a knee and found him standing over her, hands clasped behind his back, serene, composed, infuriating.

"Asshole," she spat.

She let the energy course through her again and sent a shockwave for him point blank. He jumped sideways and twisted artfully away. A few empty shipment boxes exploded on the far side of the room. Jack roared and picked herself up, throwing another. He dodged that just as effortlessly and sent a throw at her that knocked her flat on her ass.

Again.

"Your temper is not your ally in combat," came his steady voice from above her.

Sweat dripped into her eyes and burned them. Her body strained with the magnitude of her attacks. But she ignored it's protest, drew a hand across her face and rolled back up. She threw a heavy shock in his direction before coming to stand back on her feet.

She almost laughed at his advice. Her temper was the only thing that had kept her alive all these years. She fueled herself with rage. Every person she killed, every enemy Shepard pointed her at she pretended were people who had hurt her. The anger kept her stamina up. What did Zaeed say? Rage was a hell of an anesthetic.

Thane sidestepped her attack and it blasted meaninglessly against the hull behind him. She panted and waited to charge up once more, but before she could blink he was upon her. She threw a bare fist at him, which he deflected. Her arm slapped against his wrist. Baffled, she attempted to throw the left but his leg swept hers out from under her again. For the third time in too damn short a stint she hit the cold metal of the cargo bay. Her head reeled back and smacked hard enough to make her see stars.

"Fuck," she groaned.

A green hand swayed in her blurred vision. Once she focused, she glared at it, and then up at its owner. She debated spitting at him but thought better of it. He'd probably be reporting to Shepard, after all. She scoffed at his offer for help and pulled herself up without his help. Sweat rolled down the bridge of her nose. She wiped her palms on her pants.

"I know this is frustrating for you," he mediated, his hand returning to his side.

She bristled. Her eyes turned to burnished flame.

"You don't know a thing about me," she let her voice drip poison into the stunned silent cargo bay, "Don't try and fucking pretend, Krios."

He blinked black-on-black eyes.

"Jack. Subject Zero. An exemplary figure in human biotic experimentation. You were tortured as a child and conditioned to be unrestrained. To be merciless. You have been killing for as long as I have. Though you have lived your life depending on such beginnings, whereas I have lived mine serving them."

He tilted his chin just the slightest bit at her. The light reflected off the smooth, emerald luster of his skin. She hated him. She wanted to dig those creepy fucking black eyes out of his skull for him and feed them to a varren. See how goddamn philosophical he would feel then.

Her nostrils flared with a slow breath. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. There were a number of things she wanted to say to him, but she set her jaw. She needed those Cerberus files. And she knew Shepard wasn't above taking them away from her like she was a kid being put in time out. So she narrowed her eyes instead and turned for the elevator.

"I don't need this shit."

Thane didn't say anything. But his silence provoked her. The fact that he was still breathing provoked her. She spun just before she reached the elevator and pointed a finger at him.

"Shepard asked you to give me some pointers – that doesn't give you the right to fucking psychoanalyze me," she said through clenched teeth, "Try it again and I'll kill you."

Not that she had anything to back that statement up with, but she was too pissed off to care about logistics or the fact that she'd just gotten her ass handed to her by the person she was threatening. She half-expected him to comment, but he didn't. Of course he didn't, this was Thane. He hadn't moved a muscle in his face the entire session. And she expected him to be snarky?

Thane ducked his head respectfully, "I apologize. I had no intentions of upsetting you."

Jesus Christ. She could handle snark. Shepard dished out enough of it and she handled his bullshit just fine. But she didn't know what to do with Thane's composure. She couldn't crack it. She couldn't get a reaction out of him. No matter how lewd, how harsh, how disrespectful she was, he remained impassive.

She was the unstoppable force and he was the immovable object. There was no resolution here.

Only one thing was clear. She needed to get out of the cargo bay before she blew herself out of a fucking airlock.

Jack slammed her fist into the button on the elevator. Once it opened she closed herself inside and didn't spare him a parting glance. The doors closed with a satisfying swish. In private, she rubbed her bare shoulders and tried to erase the feel of his gaze.

"Ugh."

Once back in her low, red-lit cave she flattened herself on her makeshift bed and tried to fall asleep. But blood burned too loudly in her skull and the cold chill of the assassin's analytic eyes refused to leave her. She spent the night staring at the ceiling and failing at ignoring the echo of a low voice in the back of her head.

You've lived your life depending on such beginnings.