Popadanec in Jane

There is no such thing as a good morning!      ("Russian Radio")* “Shepard! Shepard, can you hear me?!” “Eh? What? Who! Which one?!” I fumbled in the sheets, fidgeting on the bed, rubbing my eyes. My head was buzzing. No, it wasn't like that — IT WAS BUZZING! Oh, shit, it's been a long time since I've been so fucked up. But we didn't drink much. It seems. And I got home fine. It seems to be. With difficulty opening his eyes, he sat up on the bed, looking around. Oops, and... er... where am I?! And what the fuck… “Shepard! Shepard, can you hear me?!” A woman's voice continued to crackle over the speakerphone. “Uh-huh, we hear you, Kaa” I muttered automatically, looking around with increasing horror and beginning to suspect something was wrong. A female voice, whining "Shepard," something between a hospital room and a laboratory, barely audible through the walls are the sounds of gunfire and explosions… And-and-bingo! Congratulations, you win the super prize — you're in! “Fuck you, bioware" I hissed and froze. There was some kind of voice... some kind... strange. Incredulously, still hoping it was some kind of mistake, he put his hand on his chest... Lawson was mumbling something about an attack on the station, that something had to be done there. But I wasn't listening to all this. Howling, I ran around the ward in a panic, bumping into furniture and knocking down racks of equipment. There was only one thought burning in his brain: I'm Shepard, I'm Shepard... I'm fuck bioware JANE Shepard!!! In the end, once again running past some kind of glowing thing, I tripped over the cable stretching to it and very sensitively hit my forehead against the cabinet. My head rang, my legs buckled, and I barely managed to lean against the wall before I slid down it to the floor. That's a hit. Oddly enough, getting to know the closet was good for me. Although the impact made his head buzz like a beer canister in the morning, he regained his ability to think. Calm down, Zhenya, just calm down. It's a mundane matter. Big deal, Shepard. Well, Jane Shepard. That's bullshit. How many books have you read about popadans?.. Why, I "read" it, I even tried to scribble something like that myself. So that… Well, those... those... bad inhumans were wrong to put you here. They're out there (wherever that "out there" is), maybe even asexual. They're like Jane or Zhenya. Nerussi, fuck, what do you want from them? And anyway, it could have been worse, because there are intelligent jellyfish here. He'd be waving his tentacles now. So look for the bright side in life. “Shepard? Shepard?” There was already outright panic in Lawson's voice. "Look, he's straining," I thought lazily, listening. But, in general, it can be understood. The hope of the entire galaxy, the result of two years of hard work and four billion credits, is the great and indomitable Commander Shepard... Howling like a madwoman, she rushes around the ward. You're going to get nervous here. “Shepard, can you hear me?!” Ugh, damn it! She's not going to let up. “I can hear you, I can hear you," I waved my hand listlessly. “Finally!” The relief in Lawson's voice could have been bottled and sold like a laxative. Under the motto: "The result from the first drop!" “Listen to me carefully, Shepard!” She spoke quickly. “The station has been attacked, you need to get out to the shuttles. Be careful! The security systems have been hacked, and now they are attacking the staff. I will send Operative Taylor to you, he will meet you on the level below. Now, go straight down the corridor, then take the elevator down and…” Her voice was drowned out by static. “No one attacked your precious station.” I grumbled to myself as I stood up. “The staff should be carefully selected, and not shaken by boobs.” He stood up, swaying slightly and holding on to the wall, looked around for a cabinet with armor and weapons. So, according to the canon, it should be somewhere... somewhere… Yeah, right now. No, of course, I understand that in reality no one will put a gun safe in a hospital room, but... what should I do now?! I only have a size three chest for weapons, and a drawstring shirt for protection. Oh! Or maybe I'm a biotic? And everyone's here right now with one magic, like a blotter! Come on… He closed his eyes, concentrated... "Feel the power in yourself, Luke." He stood for a minute, listening to his body… Yeah, "right now" for the second time. Nausea is there, headache is there, super strength... is not there. Here's an ambush. "You're not right, Zheka," an inner voice reproached me. "All normal popadans have magic dripping, pianos under every bush, secret knowledge of the struggle of Nanai boys and a harem of light elves in any village, but you... have no cowards." "Shut up, woman," I snapped weakly, because I had nothing to hide. Cowards are really dumb. I looked around once more in search of something useful: a bed, several cabinets with either reagents or just dishes, racks with some kind of equipment, a couple of chairs... and that's it. Well, then there's nothing to do here, we have to get out. They haven't really come for me yet. For some reason, I want to live. Even here. Even in this body. And anyway, we'll always make it under the lying stone. Having made this conclusion, I went to the door and resolutely poked at the hologram of the lock.