Sorry i havent updated for so long! School's been hell and I also got a ton of new things at Christmas so I've been thoroughly distracted. Anyway my new ME fanfic! Read, review and enjoy!
Udina sat at a large table in the Parliament chambers of Arcturus Station, sifting through numerous personnel files. This was the part he hated most, trying to find a Spectre candidate out of thousands of people. Like trying to find a microscopic needle in a haystack, as his mentor has once put it. Around him sat the Admirals of the Alliance Navy, each expectant to see who would be chosen as the first human Spectre. He scanned down the file of another marine, sighed as yet another soldier failed to meet the mark, then his eyes wandered over a very curious file. It was still a personnel file, but instead of having information on one soldier, as was the norm, it had info on two. His eyes scanned the row of aged and scarred faces around him, then raised the data-pad. "Ok" he said, his voice betraying his irritation "what smart-assed butt-kisser thought this would be funny?" As soon as he finished that sentence, a deep booming laugh was heard coming from the other side of the room. Udina looked up to see Captain Anderson doubling over, his dark-skinned face broken in a huge grin. "Care to share the joke Captain?" Udina asked, his voice dripping with venom. Anderson regained control of his breathing and his face deadpanned, years of military training kicking in. "The two people of which you refer to, Udina, are the twins Graham and Michael Shepard." He said, his deep baritone voice easily carrying across the room. Murmurs of recognition passed through the room, as the assembled Admirals recognised the name of two of the most promising marines in the Navy. "You mean the Wolf-Brothers?" one of the Admirals asked, using the twin's unofficial nickname amongst the rank-and-file. Anderson nodded "The very same" he replied "One strong and brave, one smart and cunning, yet both as noble as each other." That was how every single commanding officer that the twins had served under had described them. They had survived untold horrors together, fought on countless battlefields together, and every time they had fought back-to-back, watching each other, keeping each other safe. Udina mulled thoughtfully over this new information and returned his attention to their file.
They had both grown up on naval warships with their mother, Hannah Shepard, and their father, Daniel. Graham had decided to follow in his mother's footsteps, joining the Alliance as a marine and passed training with flying colours to proceed to receive N7 training. Whereas his brother preferred the 'run-and-gun' approach, Michael had decided to follow his father and become a combat engineer. He had spent three years prior at New York's tech academy and come out top of his class, then had gone through basic training with his brother and had applied for N7 training at exactly the same time. After that they had been inseparable. They had insisted on being in the same unit, the same patrol and the same squad. "They proved themselves during the Blitz" Admiral Hackett said, bringing up one of the most important parts of their career history "held off enemy forces on the ground until reinforcements arrived." The Admirals began to chat amongst themselves excitedly, remembering that famous event as if it was only yesterday. Anderson nodded to Hackett, then said "They're the only reason Elysium is still standing." Udina took in this news, pondering over the possibilities. "We can't question their courage" he said finally, his eyes roaming the faces of the other Admirals for any sign of opposition. And of course, as he had come of expect, there was one, but only one. Rear-Admiral Mikhailovich, one of the more vocal members of the Admiralty, cried out in anger "Why them?!" The entire room went silent as everyone turned to stare at the angry Russian. "Is there a problem Admiral?" Udina asked, his voice suspiciously bland. The Rear-Admiral rose from his chair, his hands shaking with rage. "Of course there is!" he roared, his anger evident in his harsh tone "Why are we choosing one- no, TWO, incompetent fools as Spectre candidates when I have at least twenty officers three times as qualified as they are!" There was a chorus of gasps and sharp intakes of breath as the assembled officers realized what the man was trying to say. Anderson's face hardened into an unreadable mask and Hackett's hardened to granite. "Are you suggesting this council is wrong, Admiral?" Hackett hissed, his voice like that of a pit viper "I would choose your next words carefully Mikhailovich, for they could be your last." Anderson emphasised the point by placing his hand on the butt of his pistol at his hip. Mikhailovich's face turned deathly white as he realized his mistake, and frantically back-pedalled. "Of course not" he replied, his voice slightly shaking "I was merely trying to express my-" he was interrupted by Anderson smashing his fist into the poor admiral's gut. "I think we all know the real reason for your outburst" Udina said turning towards the window, his voice weary "and personally I think you should really have grown up by now, after all you've seen." He turned to Hackett and Anderson. "Humanity needs heroes" Anderson continued, walking back to his place beside Hackett "and the Shepards are the best we've got." Udina merely nodded, saying "I'll make the call" and walked towards the door, effectively adjourning the session. As the others began to leave, William Coryn, Commander of all the Alliance troops, walked over to Anderson and said "I think you went a bit too far David, punching Mikhailovich like that." Anderson looked up at the Admiral, his trade-mark grin already on his face. "Maybe I did" he said "but it felt damn good." And with that, both of them burst out laughing. Hackett looked over at the two laughing officers and smiled a warm smile. Looking at people laughing always made him feel slightly younger than his years, a rare gift in his profession. "Anderson, don't you have to check on your XOs?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Anderson stood up and adjusted his uniform. "Indeed I do, so Admirals I must bid you farewell." He saluted the two men before leaving the conference chamber. He headed to the most likely place the twins would be, the nearest night-club.
Graham Shepard laughed as he watched his brother trying desperately to stop himself falling over he stumbled over to the bar. Michael Shepard had always been a light-weight when it came to alcohol, a trait he got from his mother, along with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Graham on the other hand had inherited his father's storm-grey eyes and jet-black hair, which he kept very short in accordance with military protocol. They had both inherited their father's muscular build, each of them standing just over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and muscles looking like they had been chiselled from granite. Michael looked at his brother, his short blonde hair hanging over one eye, his face flushed. "C'mon Gray" he shouted over the pounding bass of the club music "have a drink!" he pushed a bottle towards his brother, who snatched it up in one hand and downed its entire contents in one long gulp. All the other marines around him watched in awe as he downed the 750ml bottle of Bekenstein whiskey in one go, barely breathing as the alcohol burned its way down his gullet. He slammed the empty bottle back down on the counter and looked around at the others. "Why are you all looking at me like that?" he asked, utterly confused "Do I something in my teeth or what?" And with that, the entire room burst in gales of raucous laughter, followed by marines falling off their chairs. Even Michael found it hard to keep a straight face. "Seriously Gray? You down a 750 bottle of whiskey in one then ask if you have something in your teeth?" he shook head in mock despair then clapped his brother on the shoulder, before promptly falling flat on his face as he tried to walk away. Graham merely chuckled and hoisted his brother up with an arm round his shoulders. "C'mon Mike" he said "I think you've had a few too many." He was about to open the door when Anderson walked in. "Commander" he said by way of greeting, then noticed Mike hanging limp from his shoulder, and he smiled "Ah, I see, hitting the good stuff were we?" Graham chuckled softly as Mike mumbled something unintelligible in his drunken half-stupor. "You could say that sir" he said, hefting his brother slightly higher across his shoulders. Anderson couldn't help but chuckled, his rich voice bubbling up from his chest like magma. "Alright Gray, I want you and Mike on the Normandy by 0700 tomorrow, and try to make sure your brother isn't throwing up all over the deck, it doesn't look good on reports." Graham saluted Anderson to the best of his ability, all the while grinning like an idiot. "Aye sire, guess I'll be seeing you in the morning" he replied walking out of the club, Mike shuffling along beside him. Anderson merely shook his head; he did not want to be them in the morning. He began humming as he walked back to the Normandy; tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.