Chapter One:
Richard Shepard threw himself down on his bed, shielding his eyes with his arms. His few personal possessions would come later, but right now, he needed to be alone and unbothered. Arcturus was bright, loud, and generally annoying, not to mention confining. He kept seeing flickers at the corners of his eyes, flickers that any medical doctor would no doubt simply tell him was due to stress.
It was strange, having left the SSV Lazlo. He had gotten used to the people, the places. Here, the familiar hum of the drive core was gone. As was the ability to look out a window.
Hah; he thought, Captain Cole said I'd get used to being station-side, and I guess I have to hope I will. Captain Cole was the one who had pushed him to take the XO's position on the SSV Normandy, saying it was a good career move; and it looked like he was right.
Yet, despite everything, he really did regret leaving the Lazlo. Though the Normandy looked interesting; a prototype, partially designed by the Turians. . . the thought made his head - and the rest of him - hurt even more. Brilliant flashes of light swam before his closed eyes.
So why was I requested by Captain Anderson? Richard mused; his head still buried in his pillow. Captain Anderson was a decorated Special Forces officer, the best of the best. And the rest of the crew - they had medals and commendations enough to fill a barn. Command was assembling the best of the best. . . and I guess that explains why they wanted me. I guess someone finally realized, I do get the job done. Just not necessarily the way people want it done.
He sat up slowly; hoping the worst of his shakiness should pass. Arcturus wasn't helping anything for his mental or physical state - Oh, hell, I'm going to have to deal with whoever's the CMO shipboard. He cursed mentally. I hope they don't give me too much beaurocratic red tape. With his legs mostly under his control - if a little wobbly - he slipped his feet over the side of the bed, moving slowly. The world no longer threatened to turn ninety-degrees vertical, so he was good to go. He padded quietly across the tiled floor and pulled open his duffel with shaking hands.
On top of everything was a copy of his current orders and standing. He knocked a strand of black hair from his eyes as he sat back down on the bed to read. Yep, there it was, just as he remembered. SSV Normandy. A prototype vessel with a crew that had enough medals and commendations to fill a boat. Some shakedown cruise, he thought with a frown. But either way, this Tantalus Drive core looks fascinating. It looked like, for once, his security clearances were high enough to get him some information - hey, that N7 rating had better be worth something for once- and he skimmed over the rest of the reports before settling to read further about the Tantalus Drive and the newly developed Internal Emissions Sink.
At least reading through technical specs meant it kept his head busy. There would be no sleep tonight.