Captain David Anderson shifted his weight, the wooden chair creaking in tune with his discomfort. All three men were tired, having spent the better part of a day sifting through the candidate files EarthGov had passed along to them. Across from him sat the human Ambassador to the Citadel and the Council, Donnel Udina. Off to their right was one of the biggest names in the Alliance military, Admiral Steven Hackett. Hackett had stood the entire time, though it was clear even he was beginning to get irritated.
Udina's thick accent broke the uneasy silence as he stared at the holographic projection displayed just above his end of the table, right in front of his face. "Well, what about...Commander Shepard?" He absentmindedly reached out and flicked one of the display's information windows, which switched places with another one. "She's twenty-nine, has lived aboard Alliance starships most of her life, and scored well enough in the aptitude tests to qualify for the Special Forces programs, and even achieved the N7 designation a few years ago."
Hackett glanced at his own allocated display, already viewing her information. He squinted, and then the scars on his face deepened as he frowned. "The Commander was with the unit that landed on Akuze after the colony went dark. She watched as her whole unit got wiped out by a Thresher Maw, and then spent nearly two standard weeks surviving alone," he said in his deep, gravelly voice. "That changes a soldier, and not often for the better."
Anderson chimed in himself, his baritone voice contrasting against the other two in the room. "That was six years ago, Admiral. Shepard's been cleared by two medical teams and whole psychiatric group since then. She's a survivor, through and through, and her N7 achievement proves that."
Udina glanced across the table, eyeing Anderson with unveiled suspicion. "Is she the kind of soldier we want out protecting the galaxy? We are looking for someone to represent the best of the Alliance, after all," he said in a dismissive tone.
Anderson gave him a withering look in return. "Ambassador, that's exactly the kind of person who can protect the galaxy. If we're considering her for candidacy, then she's got my vote." He glanced sideways, towards Hackett; the older man rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, then nodded as he quickly met both Anderson's and Udina's eyes. Satisfied with the choice, the Admiral turned and left the room with only another curt nod.
Udina frowned slightly, but caved in. "Very well, I'll make the call..."
Around twelve hours later, one Commander M. Erin Shepard found herself on her second shuttle en-route to her new posting. At first glance she was a typical Alliance soldier, with a curvy and robust 5' 6" body that was due more to demanding training and military standards than genetics. Her pale blonde hair was shaved at the sides to almost a half-inch, but the top and back of her head had long enough hair to slick back down to her nape.
She shifted her weight, her icy blue eyes darting around as she fought to awaken her sleeping buttocks. The first shuttle ride had only been three hours long, which had then been followed by a two-hour layover. During the wait she'd watched shuttles large and small flutter about the Alliance Way Station, and felt a bit of dismay cross her; the only known Mass Relay in the 'Inner Sphere' of Alliance space was back in the Sol system, and it was clear that the initial trek from Earth had put her well out of the system itself. She spent the remainder of the time wonder what Captain or Admiral she'd pissed off somehow to end up in a backwater post, out in the fringes of human-only territory.
Eventually, though, a small Alliance APS de-shocked into docking range of the station, and the holographic HUD integrated into her ACU notified her that it was her arriving outbound flight. With some slight sourness, she followed the hallways towards the landing bays, and within a few minutes had deposited her two bags into the shuttle's cargo trays built into the floor.
She'd sat down for only a few moments when the pilot, still dressed in his astro-aviation suit, stepped through the sliding hatch separating the crew compartment from the passenger compartment, known more by the Alliance marines slang as the 'grunt can'. He nodded to her, sliding his visor up so that his hazel eyes could meet her own.
"You settled in, ma'am?" he inquired politely.
She blinked a few times, and then responded. "Affirmative, Lieutenant, just need to connect my harness and I'll be set."
He nodded, turning back towards the hatch. "Understood, ma'am, just let me know when you're ready and I'll begin preps for departure."
Shepard leaned forward, reaching out a hand as if to physically stop him; he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back towards her. "Lieutenant," she said in confusion, "aren't we going to wait on the rest of the passengers?"
The pilot shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "You're the only grunt in the can, ma'am; Admiral's orders."
'Well, shit', Shepard thought to herself as she slowly and absentmindedly buckled her safety harness. "Alright," she said after a moment, "ready whenever you are, Lieutenant."
He nodded once, and then proceeded back into the crew compartment as he flicked the visor back down over his eyes. As he slid the hatch closed, the shuttles bay door automatically responded in kind, creating a sealed environment for Shepard to breathe as it spent the next minute being taxied to a launch bay, and then another four undergoing preparation checks on the equipment.
A minute later the shuttle rocketed out of the station's massive hanger bay, a single musical note in a symphony of about thirty other shuttle launches. The impromptu group split almost as immediately as it formed, with each shuttle making course corrections as their ShockPoint Drives prepared to stream negatively-charged ions into their element zero cores. Several shuttles banded together into pairs or more as they moved farther away from the station, sharing a common destination; Shepard's dismay was only compounded when her HUD informed her that her shuttle would be traveling alone.
She sighed as the hum behind her escalated in volume. It was then she racked her brain, having absolutely no idea where the hell she was going, figuring it was likely going to be one shit job. The shuttle's intercom channel opened, interrupting her thoughts as the pilot rattled off a countdown; "Engaging ShockPoint in 4...3...2...1..." Shepard's shuttle had leaped in solitude to FTL speeds with a flashing streak of bright blue light at that point, and for the next few hours she'd sat there, half-asleep as she continued wondering about her current predicament.
This had led her to her current sleeping-buttocks predicament, and she shifted uncomfortably again. Absentmindedly she wondered how much longer the trip was going to be; the shuttle's engines were situated behind the passenger compartment for obvious reasons, and the heat radiating from them had been encroaching in her personal space for the last hour.
As the feeling of prickling pins and needles began to subside, Shepard heard the latches for the crew door unlock again, and moments later the shuttle's co-pilot stepped through and made his way over to her, taking off his helmet in the process. He was a slimmer and shorter man than the pilot, with a skin like coffee and even darker hair. She nodded, and he sat down on the bench in front of her, not bothering to buckle in.
"Sorry you've been kept in the dark, ma'am," the man spoke in a softer voice than she'd suspected of him. "We're nearly to our destination, and I figured it'd be safe enough to tell you what I know. Sadly, that isn't much, ma'am."
She glanced at his silver rank pip. "Understood, Junior Lieutenant," she said as she sighed, shifting in her seat again. "So, tell me the bad news."
He chuckled. "Just call me Cortez, ma'am." After a moment of silence, he leaned forward. "I know this looks like you're getting posted to the ass-end of nowhere. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what you're doing, but I can tell you three things: first, the base out here in the boonies is definitely bigger than some backwater post," he chuckled again, quietly. "Hell, I'm not sure if we're even in the boonies anymore; for all I know we're closer to Earth than the Way Station." He shrugged despite what he said. "Wherever we're going, it has a hanger bay that puts the Way Stations to shame."
She cocked an eyebrow, though that alone didn't rouse much suspicion. "Maybe it just services a larger area than most?"
Cortez shook his head. "That's the second part; we're a fair distance into Alliance Inner Sphere territory, but we're at coordinates I've never heard of before. There's no good reason to have that kinda station out here, when the Way Station we was just at covers this area perfectly..."
"...unless it's for black-ops?" She replied, finishing his sentence.
He nodded. "Possibly; I mean, that would give the third point some credibility."
She crossed her arms. "Okay, what's you're third point?"
Cortez smirked, leaning back. "I heard that you were specifically requested by two big – big people in the Alliance; not that I would be privy to who that would be, of course." He let the silence punctuate the fact before speaking again. "And you know people like that don't get sent to do-nothing sectors of space, and they don't go on do-nothing missions."
Shepard blinked a few times. "Well, shit." was the only thing she could think to say. "What have I been called into?" she said quietly.
"Not sure, ma'am," he replied, "but I'd get ready for a wild ride." A moment later, there was a subtle shutter throughout the shuttle, causing Cortez to glance around. "We've de-shocked," he said aloud before looking at Shepard again. "Anyway, I figured you needed to know...gotta get ready for whatever they're going to throw at you, right?"
Shepard smiled at him. "Thanks, Cortez."
He returned the smile. "No problem, ma'am." He stood, taking his helmet with him. "I gotta get back in the chair. We shouldn't be but a few more minutes before docking." He nodded to her, and then returned the way he came.
She brought her left arm up, now eager to see the station for herself to see whether or not Junior Lieutenant Cortez' had been right about the first point. The omni-tool implant in her forearm, through her HUD, came to life around her forearm and hand, giving her a wide range of interactive functions within the shuttle. She tapped a few holographic keys, and a live feed of the shuttle's forward navigational camera sprang to life in front of her face.
Several dozen kilometers ahead of the shuttle, a large structure hung in the silence of space; nearly five kilometers long, with a three and a half kilometer diameter, the station was like a barrel lying sideways, with various maneuvering thrusters jutting out of both ends. In the center sections of the end closest to Shepard's shuttle was a massive grid of dozens of bays, varying in sizes that could accommodate anything from shuttles to frigates.
She closed the feed, and dismay was replaced by a near feeling of anxiety as the shuttle quickly reached an available docking bay. Two of Cortez' points had checked out, at least as far as she could tell, and the prospect of working under such distinguished members of the Alliance put butterflies in her stomach. She was still no closer to understanding what was going on, but she knew now that it had to be something much bigger than she'd expected.
The shuttle drifted into a docking bay, then groaned as it landed, shifting its weight into its landing gear. Shepard stood as the shuttles sliding door automatically pushed itself open, and she retrieved her two bags from the underfloor compartments as quickly as possible. She stepped out into a well-lit docking bay, where several Alliance personnel moved about with purpose. The hanger had dozens of spots to park shuttles, with most of them occupied, and the hanger itself seemed to be two-tiered in structure.
As the shuttle's pilot and Cortez stepped out and passed her, she glanced to her right as her peripheral vision caught movement. The man coming towards her was dressed in a well-decorated Alliance dress uniform, which was royal blue with bright, gold trimmings; he was dark-skinned, and his face was lined with hard wrinkles indicative of someone who'd served the Alliance well.
He stopped just short of her, and immediately stood at parade rest. A silent moment passed between them; it was in that moment she noted the four gold bars on his shoulders, and it was then she understood that she was likely staring at none other than the legendary Captain Anderson himself.
'Well, shit,' she thought to herself as she dropper her bags and quickly saluted who she now assumed to be her new commanding officer.