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“No.”
“Aww, c’mon, sir,” Jenkins pleaded. “It’ll be fun.”
“It could also be fatal,” he pointed out, very reasonably in his opinion.
But then Jenkins didn’t know his history. No-one on board did.
This wasn’t the same though. He wasn’t angry, it wasn’t spur of the moment, and over the years he’d perfected control. The likelihood was that it wouldn’t be fatal… but the back of his mind reminded him that it could be.
But the entire marine contingent was looking at him, excitement in their eyes. To young marines, biotics were cool. He didn’t want to be the one to change that opinion.
“All right.” He played the reluctant officer perfectly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
There was a chorus of cheers followed by a general scramble to be at the front while ensuring that the two of them had enough space. Before he could blink he was facing Jenkins down a corridor formed of eager marines. And already regretting his decision.
But still, a lieutenant’s job was to be the bridge between the junior marines and the upper command. He couldn’t be that bridge if they all thought him a total stick in the mud.
(He probably was a stick in the mud these days, but they didn’t need to know that.)
“All right.” His tone was neither loud nor particularly attention grabbing, but nevertheless silenced everyone present. “Here we go.”
He flared ever so slightly, a warning, before he let loose the tiniest throw that he could generate with an easy, practised mnemonic.
Though it was the smallest force he could produce, it was still enough to send Jenkins flying down the line of assembled marines until his back hit the wall with a loud bang and a sickening crack, before he landed in a crumpled heap just outside the captain’s office.
Shit.
There was a horrible moment of utter silence during which – because his brain was naturally predisposed to think the worst – he was seriously worried that he’d harmed Jenkins. Critically. He couldn’t possibly have made the throw any smaller, it shouldn’t have hurt… But perhaps he should have calculated the distance precisely – and the density of the Normandy’s walls – before trying it.
But just as he was about to race into the medbay for Dr Chakwas, Jenkins popped up, a wide grin splitting his face.
“That was awesome!” he declared, practically bouncing on the spot.
“What was awesome?”
Double shit.
He hadn’t seen her come out, hadn’t heard the door open, hadn’t even realised that she was in the captain’s office. If he had…
No, no, he probably would have done it anyway. Just… maybe not so close to the door.
In the split second after she’d spoken, two things happened.
First, was the en-masse speedy departure of every single other marine assembled in the mess hall.
Second, was the flailing of Jenkins’ limbs as he attempted a hasty, sloppy salute.
“No… nothing, Ma’am,” he stammered, gaze firmly fixed on the wall behind her.
She didn’t reply, her raised eyebrow said it all.
“Doctor?” she said, turning towards the mess without bothering to put Jenkins at ease. Triple shit. He hadn’t noticed the doctor leaning casually against the lockers. Fuck. How long had she been there, and how fucked was he?
“Based on his reaction, I’d say the private is going to be fine,” Dr Chakwas drawled, her mischievous expression suggesting that she was only too aware of just how much she was saving his bacon. It was a debt she was definitely going to collect on at some point. He wasn’t looking forward to that.
Shepard paused.
He assumed that it was mostly just to intimidate Jenkins, just as he was equally sure that if he were really in trouble, she’d have come straight for him and he’d already be doing laps.
“Dismissed, private.” She smiled as Jenkins bolted from the room. Then, she turned to him, still smiling. If anything this made him more terrified. “I assume I don’t have anything to report to the captain, lieutenant?”
Damn she was good. Everything you wanted in an officer, really. She terrified you and yet you still felt like you could tell her the truth.
“Just a bit of harmless fun, commander,” he said. “Team bonding, if you like.”
She actually snorted at that, and weirdly, he felt like maybe the whole display had been worth it just for the snort.
It didn’t last.
“Very good. Carry on, lieutenant,” she snapped, once again all business.
He straightened up, all business too. “Aye, Ma’am.”