Without the Foe

A perspective on the Mass Effect universe, and what it could have been like,

Without the Reapers.

Prolouge

"Dr. Chakwas is one of the best the Alliance has to offer, her skills combined with Dr. Erad from the Hegemony and we'll have one of the best med bays in either of our fleets. What about a human ground team leader? I have a few marines in mind but I don't really know anyone from the Alliance, rather defeats the purpose of the project if we don't have a few alliance soldiers on the ground team as well."

Captain Anderson nodded, Commander Balak was right, having the Hegemony forces dominate the ground teams of an outreach project wouldn't exactly be productive "We'll want someone from Special Forces to lead the team, even if their squad is rank and file marines. I could probably pull a few strings with Alliance brass to get us an N7"

Balak blinked with both his upper eyes, Anderson had learned that among batarians, that was roughly equivalent to raising a human eyebrow. "Do you really think we need that kind of fire power on the Normandy? It's a stealth ship; we're not going to invade planets. We'll be doing recon work."

Anderson smiled "Is that why you're going to bring a squad of Marines aboard? Standard training won't prepare them for black-ops missions. We want someone who can command obedience and respect, as well as teach the marines about covert action. And an N7 is the best way to do that."

Balak reached to the table between them. They were in Anderson's private quarters on Arcturus Station, headquarters of the Human alliance navy. The room was sparse, three chairs, only two of them in use at the moment. Between the Batarian Commander and the Alliance Captain was a small projector table, co-ordinated with a set of projectors in the walls and ceiling to create a holographic image on command. Balak pulled up the alliance N7 database, but when he tried to open the personnel listings he found himself blocked by a message asking for security clearance. "Can't access N7 personnel files." He muttered.

Anderson gestured inward, "Let me take care of it." Balak twisted the display around to face the Captain. Anderson entered his name, rank, ID codes and password, and before him soon laid a list of Special Forces operatives in alliance service. Not just any operatives, only the very best.

The Human Systems Alliance had two different ways to tell an individual's ability and skill in the military. The first was rank, ranging from servicemen and ensigns to Admirals and Majors. This was the true chain of command, dictating who took and gave orders, and what duties each soldier was expected to complete. The second method was the MVC, Military Vocation Code. Every soldier in the alliance fleet had a number and a letter assigned to them, sometimes more than one set, dictating their career path and proficiency. Numbers ranged from 1 to 7, with 7 being the most capable. Letters dictate the solder's chosen field, N being the letter for Special Forces, C being the letter for tactical command staff, like those in charge of ships, and M being the letter for the Alliance Marie corps. Anderson had once bore the mark of N7 during the Turian contact war, but now was considered C6, a skilled ship commander, but not elite.

Anderson scrolled down the list of N7s, seeing test scores, numbers of missions completed with and without losing their cover or making hard contact, number of missions failed. He skimmed only lightly through the names, he recognized only one. "Jonathan…"

Balak looked up from his own projection of the list. He technically wasn't allowed access to any alliance personnel files as a member of the Batarian Hegemony, but he was to be the highest ranking Batarian officer aboard the Normandy, and Anderson respected him enough to consider his opinions. "Stone? He's a tech specialist, focuses on completing missions without the enemy ever knowing he was there. 94 percent of the time he does that, but he only has a 95 percent success rate. We need someone who can adapt to failure better than that Anderson."

The captain shook his head "not Jonathan Stone, Jonathan Shepard. I know him, good kid, trustworthy. Father was in the Special Forces as well, we were partnered on a few missions. We were two of the first to hold the title of N7, back in the war."

Balak looked at Anderson oddly, all four eyes blinking in unison. "Anderson, I don't know if we want to pick up some kid just because you knew his old man-"

"It's not just that Balak, Ben and I were good friends, I've met Jonathan in person more than once. Ben says the kid is better than he or I ever was. He was saying they'd need to add and eight to the system for him."

"Anderson, you know I don't mean to disrespect you when I put it this way, but that's a father's pride there, not objective fact."

Anderson looked into Balak's lower eyes, smiling. "Ben Shepard is a factual man Balak, and besides that he's not Jon's actual father. But look at the file, the kid's got twenty-six successful missions under his belt, and he held off a full platoon of Turian-funded raiders on Elysium. Without back-up."

Balak opened the file in its entirety, reading through. "It says he also spearheaded the counter-attack on Torfan. He lost almost his entire unit in the attack. Didn't seem to slow him down though, the mission record say he killed more pirates on Torfan than he did on Elysium. Is that really what we want?"

"Jon can adapt to the failures of a situation, and he can take a team through Hell and back and they won't so much as question him. That is what we want."

Balak leaned back in his chair, a hand on his chin, pondering. "His psychological profile is nearly bare, no talk about his pre-service history except a mention of his parents, a retired N7 and the XO of the Everest."

Anderson nodded "Hannah and Ben aren't his biological parents; they adopted him when he was about twelve. Before that he lived on the streets, was a gang-banger in Vancouver before he ratted out his gang to the police in exchange for immunity. Testified against every gang member he could name or recognize, and not only the members of his gang. Jonathan killed the gang wars in Vancouver for six months when he left."

Balak's upper eyes blinked twice, surprised. "How'd he go from testifying against gangs to being adopted by your war buddy?"

"Ben's brother was one of the officers in Vancouver, he gave Jon a safe place during the trials, but he also knew Jon had to get out of the city. Got his brother to adopt him. They'd already had two kids, both a little older than Jon. They figured that going into an honest family might do the kid good in the long run, give him some direction. Hannah always was a softie for the success stories."

Balak paused, looking again at the profile "Says he was first given sentinel training on Jump Zero, got out two years before they closed the program. Powerful Biotic, got a talent with an omi-tool. Received assault rifle training in the Special Forces, But his combat test records aren't great. I mean they're good, he's an N7, but with the list he's on they aren't impressive."

"Look again at the Torfan Record. He lost most of his men storming the main compound. That was a suicide mission with only fourteen marines. And yet those soldiers followed him without question. The two other survivors from the team didn't blame Jonathan for their lost teammates in the mission debriefing. They actually credit him with why they lived as long as they did. He inspired them Balak. They followed his lead through that base and came out proud of their commander, even though they'd lost the whole team. That shouldn't have been possible Balak."

The Commander looked through mission reports, Torfan and others. "Shepard's teams are proven to be a lot more potent than they should be, and He doesn't appear to have ever left a group of Marines with complaints about his command. Even after failed missions." Balak paused, a hand on his chin. "It's your choice Anderson, regardless of any reservations of mine. If you think Shepard's our best bet then make the call."