CHAPTER ONE

The Change

- SSV Normandy, 4 hours after the attack on Eden Prime

Anderson pushed off from his desk. He'd finished writing his initial report over an hour ago, but something kept him tied to the text before him. Maybe it was guilt. He should have been there, he should have been the one leading the action planet-side. Anderson took a few anxious steps towards the viewport in his private cabin. Losing soldiers was inevitable, it wasn't the first time, and his gut told him it wouldn't be the last. The ships intercom beeped and Chakwas' familiar voice broke the silence: "He's awake, you better come over". "I'll be right there" Anderson replied, turning once more to the still open report on his computer. He was no ground soldier, not anymore. Yet he couldn't help but feel remorse upon seeing the words on the report: "… Commander Shepard was killed in action…".

Chakwas was in the infirmary speaking with Chief Williams when the door opened and the Captain stepped in. "How's the lieutenant?" he asked with a dark tone. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko stood up from the hospital bed on the opposite side of the room "I'm alright… Sir". Chakwas gave a worrying look at the Lieutenant and faced the Captain "He really should rest". "What about Nihlus?" Anderson asked. The doctor looked at the medical station next to her "We are monitoring his vitals, but he is still out. We should get him to a proper medical facility as soon as possible". Intercom opened and Jokers voice was broadcast throughout the ship "We are coming in range of the relay, prepare for transit". Anderson gave Chakwas a nod and headed out.

He knew that going through a mass relay was considered standard operation for any Alliance ship, and that the pilots announcement was just a tradition from the early days of relay travel. It wasn't a requirement or anything, Joker just liked doing it. A reminder for everyone that he was flying the ship, a little something to boost his ego every now and then. Anderson walked hastily through the CIC and towards the cockpit. He wanted to be by the pilot when they jumped from one system to the other; another leftover tradition.

Chakwas had left the infirmary, leaving Williams alone with Alenko and the unconscious Turian on the next bed. The Chief sat on a chair next to the doctors desk and for a few minutes the two just sat in silence. Finally the lieutenant broke the silence.

"So how are you? I mean really, not the good soldier act."

Williams didn't respond at first but then, to Kaidans surprise, she took a defensive stance.
"It's not an act, I'm okay. Ready to serve on the Normandy."

"Just cut it Gunnery Chief, you lost your whole squad down there, that takes a toll on any soldier."

"I don't… I'm sorry, I guess it's no use pretending. I lost damn near everyone I knew on Eden Prime. I can't help but think had I done something differently… Maybe some of them would still be alive"

"There's nothing you could have done. You know that, the Geth were there in force. And they haven't been beyond the Perseus Veil in centuries, nobody could have predicted the attack."

"I… Thanks Lt."

Williams turned towards the door "I better get some shut-eye. Gotta feeling tomorrows going to be a busy day". "The Corporal will show you the crew quarters" Kaidan replied before collapsing back on to the infirmary bed.

Williams was laying on one of the beds in the general crew quarters. Sharing bunks was one of the downsides of serving on a military ship. Especially small frigate like the Normandy. Nevertheless it was the opportunity she had hoped for, a step up in her career. All she wished was that it had been under better circumstances.

The ship was quiet. It wasn't something Ashley was all that used to. Every ship she'd ever traveled on, Alliance or otherwise, had had at least some background noise from the engineering decks. Some of the older transports she'd used to go and visit her sisters, bucket haulers as the dock workers had called them, were impossible to sleep in. Even the barracks on Eden Prime had had background noise. The base never slept, there had been constant operations 61 hours a day, 341 days a year.

Here she tried to listen, but all she could hear was a quiet humming echoing through the bulkheads, the subtle song of the drive core faded as she drifted off to sleep.