Commander Shepard Goes Forth

by Finn Solomon

The time has come for the final invasion of Earth. The combined forces of the galaxy are in orbit above the besieged planet, surrounded by Reapers. But Commander Shepard has grown sick of war. He is tired of the fighting, the horror, and the endless poetry. He wants out. He wants to avoid the final push to Take Back Earth by any means possible. Doing so may not be so easy.

COMMANDER SHEPARD GOES FORTH

Episode One: Captain Cook

It is the Year 2186, during the time of the great Galactic War against the Reapers. Due to the heroic efforts of the combined forces of the galaxy's military might, the tide has been turned. Palaven, Thessia, Tuchanka and Sur'Kesh have all been liberated from the clutches of the Reapers, and the focus now turns to Earth. The Reapers are entrenched in fortified positions around Earth, and taking it back will not be easy.

But the free humans have hope that their long nightmare will be over soon. They have a hero to look up to, the shining example of all that is courageous and good. His name is Commander John Shepard, and his ship the SSV Normandy is in orbit over Earth, waiting for the final order to 'go over the top'.

Despite his exemplary service record, and his performance in famous battles such as Tuchanka Gorge, Commander Shepard has a secret. A rather large secret, if you will. In fact if you've got a moment, it's a secret so large it's blocking your view of the moon, with a fifty mile high neon lit sign saying 'This is a large secret'.

The secret is that Commander Shepard has grown sick of war. He is tired of the fighting, the horror, and the endless poetry. He wants out. He wants to avoid the final push to Take Back Earth by any means possible.

Doing so may not be so easy.

Our brave soldiers;

COMMANDER JOHN SHEPARD, hero of the Alliance

PRIVATE S CONRAD VERNER, Commander Shepard's personal batman and hero worshipper

LIEUTENANT KAIDAN ALENKO, a biotic with not too much brainpower

ADMIRAL DAVID ANDERSON, Commander Shepard's superior officer, who may be clinically insane

COUNCILLOR DONNEL DARLING-UDINA, Admiral Hackett's personal assistant, and sworn enemy of Commander Shepard

FLEET ADMIRAL STEVEN HACKETT, commander-in-chief of the mission to Take Back Earth

INT: Normandy, Day.

[COMMANDER SHEPARD is sitting on a makeshift couch on the bridge of the Normandy, reading something on his omni-tool. Scratching noises are heard.]

COMMANDER SHEPARD: Verner, what are you doing out there?

PRIVATE VERNER: I'm carving something on this bullet sir!

SHEPARD: What are you carving?

VERNER: I'm carving Verner, sir.

SHEPARD: Ah. Why?

VERNER: It's a cunning plan, actually.

SHEPARD: Of course it is.

VERNER: You see, you know they say that somewhere there's a bullet with your name on it?

SHEPARD: Yesss...

VERNER: Well I thought if I owned the bullet with my name on it, I'd never get hit by it, 'cos I won't ever shoot myself.

SHEPARD: Oh, shame.

VERNER: And the chances of there being two bullets with my name on them are very small indeed.

SHEPARD: That's not the only thing around here that's 'very small indeed.' Your brain, for example, is so minute Verner that if a hungry husk cracked it open there wouldn't be enough inside to cover a small water-biscuit. We don't use bullets. Haven't used them for fifty years. Our guns use fancy mess effect technology to fire bits of dandruff at our enemies that hurt when accelerated to near light speed. Didn't you go through the training?

VERNER: No, sir.

SHEPARD: I'm not surprised.

[LIEUTENANT KAIDAN ALENKO enters.]

LIEUTENANT ALENKO: Down you go!

SHEPARD: In English we say 'Good morning.'

ALENKO: Look what I've got for you sir.

SHEPARD: What?

ALENKO: It's the latest issue of 'Alliance and Marines.' Oh, damn inspiring stuff, the magazine that tells us jarheads the truth about the war.

SHEPARD: Or alternatively, the greatest work of fiction since the peace treaty signed by the krogans promising to be good little boys and girls now that we don't have a genophage.

ALENKO: Come, come sir now. You can't deny that this fine newspaper is good for the morale of the men.

SHEPARD: Certainly not, I just think that more could be achieved by giving them some real toilet-paper. We get all our news on our omni-tools these days, who seriously prints a paper?

ALENKO: Not with you at all sir, what could any Earth-loving chap have against this magnificent mag?

SHEPARD: Apart from his bottom?

ALENKO: Yes.

SHEPARD: Well look at it. I mean the stuff's about as convincing as the idea of a hanar Spectre. The Alliance marines are all portrayed as six foot six with biceps the size of Jupiter.

ALENKO: Thoroughly inspiring stuff. And look sir, this also arrived for you this morning. [Hands package to SHEPARD]

SHEPARD: [Opens package, takes out an assault rifle] Hmm. Do you know what this is, Lieutenant?

ALENKO: Why it's a good old assault rifle.

SHEPARD: Wrong. It's a brand new assault rifle, which I've suspiciously been sent without asking for it. I smell something fishy, and I'm not talking about the dead fish in my aquarium.

ALENKO: That's funny sir, because we didn't order those new shuttles either.

SHEPARD: New shuttles?

ALENKO: Yessir, came yesterday. I issued them to the men, and they were absolutely thrilled. Isn't that right men?

VERNER: Yes sir! First solid fuel we've had since we burned that hanar sir!

SHEPARD: Something's going on, and I think I can make an educated guess what it is. Something which you, Alenko, would find hard to do. [They walk over to the viewing port]

ALENKO: Ah, true, true. When I was in the biotic training academy, education could go hang as long as a boy could shut down a mech, produce a shockwave, and accidentally snap an instructor's neck without blubbing.

SHEPARD: I on the other hand, am a fully rounded soldier, with a degree from the university of the first Mass Effect game, a diploma from Mass Effect 2, and three gold stars from all the DLCs I've bought. My instincts lead me to deduce that we are at last about to Take Back Earth. [Peers through the viewport at the besieged planet]

ALENKO: Great Scott sir, you mean, you mean the moment's finally arrived for us to give the Reapers a darned good human-style thrashing, six of the best, trousers down?

SHEPARD: If you mean "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly Fleet Admiral Hackett is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to Earth.

ALENKO: Right! Bravo-issimo! Well let's make a start eh, up and over to glory, the last one in New New York City's a rotten egg!

SHEPARD: Give me your helmet, Lieutenant.

[ALENKO hands his helmet to SHEPARD, who throws it into a shuttle and sends it hurtling towards Earth. The Reapers see it coming and blast it to space dust]

ALENKO: Yes, some sort of clever hat-camouflage might be in order.

VERNER: Permission to speak, sir.

SHEPARD: Granted, with a due sense of exhaustion and dread.

VERNER: I have a cunning plan to get us out of getting killed, sir.

SHEPARD: Ah yes, what is it?

VERNER: Cooking.

SHEPARD: I see.

VERNER: You know the Citadel is always on the lookout for good cooks? Well we go over there, we cook 'em something, and we get out of the front lines that way.

SHEPARD: Verner, it's a brilliant plan.

VERNER: Is it?

SHEPARD: Yes, it's superb.

VERNER: [Delighted] Permission to write home immediately sir, this is the first brilliant plan a Verner's ever had! For centuries we've tried, and they've always turned out to be total pig-swill.

SHEPARD: There is however, one slight flaw in the plan.

VERNER: Oh?

SHEPARD: You're the worst cook in the entire galaxy.

VERNER: Oh yeah, that's right.

SHEPARD: There are amoeba on Sur'Kesh who can boil a better egg than you. Your Filet Mignon in Sauce Bearnaise look like vorcha turds in glue.

VERNER: That's because they are.

SHEPARD: Your plum duff tastes like it's a thresher maw hill decorated with varren droppings.

VERNER: I thought you wouldn't notice.

SHEPARD: Your cream custard has the texture of cat's vomit.

VERNER: Again, it's...

SHEPARD: If you were to serve one of your meals in the Citadel, you'd be arrested for the greatest mass poisoning since the Illusive Man invited five hundred of his fiercest political opponents around for a wine-and-anthrax party. No, we'll have to think of a better plan than that.

VERNER: Right, how about a nice meal while you chew it over?

SHEPARD: [Suspicious] What's on the menu?

VERNER: [Hefts a dead vorcha in front of him] Vorcha. Saute, or fricassee?

SHEPARD: Oh, the agony of choice. Saute involves...?

VERNER: Well you take the freshly shot vorcha, and you stick it out of the ship for a while.

SHEPARD: Hmm, for how long?

VERNER: Until it suffocates to death. Then you stretch it out under a hot light bulb, and then you get within dashing distance of the latrines, and you scoff it right down.

SHEPARD: So that's saute. And fricassee?

VERNER: Exactly the same, just a slightly bigger vorcha.

SHEPARD: Well call me Old Mister Unadventurous but I think I'll give it a miss this once.

[ALENKO comes back, wearing a new helmet decorated with barbed wire]

VERNER: Fair enough sir, more for the rest of us. [to ALENKO] Eh sir?

ALENKO: Absolutely, Private. Down you go, BARF BARF.

[His omni-tool rings, and SHEPARD answers the call]

SHEPARD: Hello, the Omega Grill and Bar. Oh, it's you. Yes. Yes, I'll be over in 40 minutes.

[He hangs up]

VERNER: Who was it then sir?

SHEPARD: Strangely enough Verner, it was Shiala the Consort. Inviting me for drinks on board her pleasure cruiser, the Salty Sue, currently wintering in Thessia with the Illusive Man and the volus goddess of plenty.

VERNER: Really?

SHEPARD: No, not really. I'm ordered to the Citadel. No doubt that idiot Admiral Anderson is about to offer me some attractive new opportunities to have my guts ripped out for Earth.

[At the Citadel. COUNCILLOR DARLING-UDINA is at his desk, writing. SHEPARD enters]

SHEPARD: What do you want, Darling?

COUNCILLOR DARLING-UDINA: It's Darling-Udina. Councillor Darling-Udina to you. Admiral Anderson wants to see you about a highly important secret mission.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON: [Enters] What's going on, Darling?

UDINA: Commander Shepard to see you sir.

ANDERSON: Ah, excellent. Just a short back and sides today, I think please.

UDINA: Er, that's General Shepherd sir. Commander Shepard is here about the other matter sir, the secret matter.

ANDERSON: Ah yes, the special mission. At ease, Shepard. Now what I'm about to tell you is absolutely tip-top-secret, is that clear?

SHEPARD: It is sir.

ANDERSON: Now I've compiled a list of those with security clearance, have you got it Darling?

UDINA: Yes sir.

ANDERSON: Read it please.

UDINA: It's top security sir, I think that's all the Commander needs to know.

ANDERSON: Nonsense! Let's hear the list in full!

UDINA: Very well sir. "List of personnel cleared for mission Gainsborough, as dictated by Admiral David Anderson. You and me, Darling, obviously. Fleet Admiral Hackett. Fleet Admiral Hackett's wife. All Fleet Admiral Hackett's wife's friends. Their families. Their families' servants. Their families' servants' tennis partners...and some chap I bumped into the mess the other day called Bernard."

ANDERSON: So it's maximum security, is that clear?

SHEPARD: Quite so sir, only myself and the rest of the English speaking world is to know.

ANDERSON: Good man. Now, Fleet Admiral Hackett has formulated a brilliant new tactical plan to ensure final victory in the field. [They gather around a hologram of Earth]

SHEPARD: Now, would this brilliant plan involve us lining up all our ships, and flying very slowly towards the Reapers sir?

UDINA: How can you possibly know that Shepard? It's classified information.

SHEPARD: It's the same plan that we used last time, and the seventeen times before that.

ANDERSON: E-E-Exactly! And that is what so brilliant about it! We will catch the watchful Reapers totally off guard! Doing precisely what we have done eighteen times before is exactly the last thing they'll expect us to do this time! There is however one small problem.

SHEPARD: That everyone always gets slaughtered in the first ten seconds.

ANDERSON: That's right! And Fleet Admiral Hackett is worried that this may be depressing the men a tad. So, he's looking to find a way to cheer them up.

SHEPARD: Well, his resignation and suicide would seem the obvious solution.

ANDERSON: Interesting thought. Make a note of it, Darling! [SHEPARD looks disconcerted] Take a look at this: 'Alliance and Marines'.

SHEPARD: Ah, yes, without question my favourite magazine; soft, strong and thoroughly absorbent.

ANDERSON: Top-hole Shepard, I thought it would be right up your alley. Now, Fleet Admiral Hackett's plan is this; to commission a man to do an especially stirring painting for the cover of the next issue, so as to really inspire the men for the final push. What I want you to do, Shepard, is to labour night and day to find a first rate artist from amongst your men.

SHEPARD: Impossible sir. I know from long experience that my men have all the artistic talent of a cluster of colourblind hedgehogs...in a bag.

ANDERSON: Hm, well that's a bit of a blow. We needed a man to leave the front lines immediately.
SHEPARD: Leave the front lines?

ANDERSON: Yes.

SHEPARD: [Hastily backtracking] Yes, I wonder if you've enjoyed, as I have sir, that marvellous painting in the National Portrait Gallery, 'Bag Interior', by the colourblind hedgehog workshop of Sienna.

UDINA: I'm sorry, are you saying you can find this man?

SHEPARD: I think I can. And might I suggest sir that having left the trenches, it might be a good idea to post our man to Thessia [points on ANDERSON's hologram], in order to soak up a little of the artistic atmosphere. Perhaps even Ilium [points], so as to produce a real masterpiece.

ANDERSON: Yes, yes, but can you find the man?!

SHEPARD: Now I know I can sir. Before you say "Creepy statue" I'll have Forta the elcor artist standing before you.

[Back in the Normandy. SHEPARD is painting, ALENKO is looking over his shoulder. SHEPARD pauses and gives him a pointed look]

ALENKO: No, don't stop sir. It's coming, it's definitely coming. I, hm, yeah, ah, er, hm. I just wonder if two socks and a hand-grenade is really the sort of thing that covers of 'Alliance and Marines' are made of.

SHEPARD: They will be when I painted them being shoved up Harbinger's backside.

[ALENKO walks over to VERNER.]

ALENKO: Ah, now, now this is interesting.

SHEPARD: What is?

ALENKO: Well, Private Verner is obviously some kind of an impressionist.

SHEPARD: The only decent impression he can do is of a man with no talent. What's it called Verner? 'The Vomiting Cavalier'?

ALENKO: That's not supposed to be vomit; it's dabs of light.

VERNER: No, it's vomit.

ALENKO: Yes, now er, why did you choose that?

VERNER: You told me to sir.

ALENKO: Did I?

VERNER: Yeah, you told me to paint whatever comes from within, so I did my breakfast. Look, there's a little tomato.

SHEPARD: [Gives up] Hopeless. If only I'd paid attention in nursery art-class instead of spending my entire time manufacturing papier-mache willies to frighten Miranda Lawson.

ALENKO: You know it's funny, but painting was the only thing I was ever any good at.

SHEPARD: Well, it's a pity you didn't keep it up.

ALENKO: Well, as a matter of fact I did, actually. I mean [takes out pictures] I mean normally I hadn't thought I would show them to anyone, because they're just embarrassing daubs really, but you know, ah, they give me pleasure. I'm embarrassed to show them to you now as it happens, but
there you go, for what they're worth. To be honest, I should have my hands cut off, I mean...

SHEPARD: Alenko! These are brilliant! Why didn't you tell us about these before?

ALENKO: Well you know, one doesn't want to blow one's own trumpet.

SHEPARD: You might at least have told us you had a trumpet. These paintings could spell my way out of the front lines.

ALENKO: Yours?

SHEPARD: That's right, ours. All you have to do is paint something heroic to appeal to the simple-minded Marine. Over to you, Verner.

VERNER: How about a noble Marine, standing with a look of horror and disgust over the body of a murdered nun, what's been done over by a nasty old Reaper.

ALENKO: Excellent. I, I can see it now; 'The Nun and the Squid'.

SHEPARD: Brilliant! No time to lose. Alenko, set up your easel, Verner and I will pose. This is going to be art's greatest moment since Mona Lisa sat down and told Leonardo da Vinci that she was in a slightly odd mood. Verner, you lie down on the floor and be the nun.

VERNER: I'm not lying down there, it's all wet.

SHEPARD: Well, let's put it this way; either you lie down and get wet, or you're knocked down and get a broken nose.

VERNER: Actually it's not that wet, is it?

SHEPARD: No. [Pushes VERNER down, splat]

VERNER: Who are you going to be then sir? The noble Marine?

SHEPARD: Precisely, standing over the body of the ravaged nun.

VERNER: I want a wimple.

SHEPARD: You should have gone before we started the picture.

VERNER: You know, the funny thing is, my father was a nun.

SHEPARD: [firmly] No he wasn't.

VERNER: He was so, sir. I know, 'cos whenever he was up in court, and the judge used to say 'occupation', he'd say 'none'!

[ALENKO enters, dressed in painter's smock and hat, carrying a palette and easel.]

SHEPARD: Right. [to ALENKO] You're ready?

ALENKO: Just about sir, yes. Erm, if you just like to pop your clothes on the stool.

SHEPARD: I'm sorry?

ALENKO: Just pop your clothes on the stool over there.

SHEPARD: You mean, you want me...tackle out?

ALENKO: Well, I would prefer so sir, yes.

SHEPARD: If I can remind you of the realities of battle Alenko, one of the first things that everyone notices is that all the protagonists have got their clothes on. Neither we, nor the Reapers, favour fighting our battles "au naturel".

ALENKO: Sir, it's artistic licence. It's willing suspension of disbelief.

SHEPARD: Well, I'm not having anyone staring in disbelief at my willy suspension.! Now, get on and paint the bloody thing, sharpish!

[Later. The painting is ready.]

SHEPARD: Brilliant Alenko, it's a masterpiece. The wimple suits you, Verner.

VERNER: But it completely covers my face.

SHEPARD: Exactly. Now then, Admiral Anderson will be here at any moment. When he arrives, leave the talking to me, all right? I like to keep an informal ship, as you know, but today you must only speak with my express permission, is that clear? [There is silence. SHEPARD speaks again, sharply] Is that clear? [Still more silence. SHEPARD speaks once more, with a note of regret] Permission to speak.

ALENKO: Yes sir, absolutely.

VERNER: Yes sir.

UDINA: [In the decontamination area] Attention! [entering] Normandy, attention!

[ANDERSON enters.]

ANDERSON: Excellent, at ease. Now then Shepard, where would you like me to sit? I thought just a simple trim of the moustache today, nothing drastic.

UDINA: We're here about the painting sir.

ANDERSON: Oh, yes, of course. [seeing ALENKO] Good Lord, Alenko, hahahaaa, how are you my boy? [ALENKO remains silent] I said how are you?

SHEPARD: Permission to speak.

ALENKO: Absolutely top-hole sir, with a ying and a yang and a yippetty-doo.

ANDERSON: Splendid! And your uncle Bertie sends his regards. I told him you could have a week off in April; we don't want you missing the Biotic Boat Race, do we?

SHEPARD: Permission to speak.

ALENKO: Certainly not. Permission to sing boisterously sir?

SHEPARD: [Annoyed] If you must.

ALENKO: Row, row, row your boat...

ANDERSON: [joins in] gently down the stream. Belts off, trousers down, isn't life a scream. HAH! [Both he and ALENKO thrust their hips forward together]

SHEPARD: Fabulous, university education, you can't beat it.

ANDERSON: Bravo, now [moving on to VERNER] what have we here? Name?

SHEPARD: Permission to speak.

VERNER: Verner, sir.

ANDERSON: Ah, tally-ho, yippety-dip, and zing zang spillip. Looking forward to bullying off for the final chukka?

[Silence]

SHEPARD: Permission to speak.

[Silence.]

SHEPARD: Answer the Admiral, Verner.

VERNER: I can't answer him sir, I don't know what he's talking about.

ANDERSON: Aha, are you looking forward to the big push? [pinches VERNER's cheek]

VERNER: No sir, I'm absolutely terrified. [pinches Anderson's]

ANDERSON: The healthy humour of the honest Marine. Hahaaa, don't worry my boy, if you should falter, remember that Councillor Darling and I are behind you.

SHEPARD: About thirty-five light years behind you.

ANDERSON: Right, well stand by your beds. Let's have a look at this artist of yours, Shepard. Next to me, Darling.

UDINA: Thank you sir. [sits down next to ANDERSON]

ANDERSON: So, ah, have you found someone?

SHEPARD: Yes sir, I think I have; none other than young Alenko here.

ANDERSON: Oh, bravo. Well, let's have a shufti then.

SHEPARD: It's simply called "War". [Shows his own, badly done painting instead of Alenko's]

ANDERSON: Damn silly title Alenko. Looks more like a couple of old socks and a stick of pineapple to me.

ALENKO: [Shocked] Ah, permission to speak sir?!

SHEPARD: Er, I think not actually.

ANDERSON: Quite right, if what happens when you open your mouth is anything like what happens when you open your paintbox, we'd all be drenched in phlegm. Oh no, this isn't what we're looking for at all, is it Darling?

UDINA: No sir.

ANDERSON: No sir!

SHEPARD: There is this sir, it's Private Verner's, [Shows painting] he's called it "My family and other animals".

ANDERSON: [Looks disgusted] Oh, good Lord no.

SHEPARD: Well, I'm afraid that's about it sir. Apart from ... this little thing. [Shows Alenko's beautiful painting]

ANDERSON: Ah, now, that's more like it!

UDINA: Who painted this Shepard?

SHEPARD: Well actually it was me.

ALENKO: Permission to speak, really quite urgently sir!

ANDERSON: Damn and blast your goggly eyes, will you stop interrupting, Alenko! Now, this is excellent! [Shakes SHEPARD's hand] Congratulations man! It's totally inspiring, makes you want to fly down to Earth and yell "Yah-boo sucks to you, Reapy".

SHEPARD: Thank you sir.

UDINA: Are you sure you did this, Shepard?

SHEPARD: Of course I'm sure.

UDINA: I'm afraid I don't believe you.

SHEPARD: How dare you Darling?! [to ANDERSON] You know I can't let that slur pass, sir. What possible low, suspicious, slanderous reasons could this "office-boy" have to think that I didn't paint the picture?

UDINA: Well, three reasons as a matter of fact. Firstly: you're in it.

SHEPARD: [Condescendingly] It's a self-portrait.

UDINA: Secondly: you told us you couldn't paint.

SHEPARD: Well, one doesn't want to blow one's own trumpet.

ALENKO: Permission...

SHEPARD: Denied.

UDINA: And thirdly: it's signed "K.A.".

SHEPARD: [walks over to painting, looks closely at corner] Well spotted. But not signed "K.A.", it stands for Kill all (Reapers)! Gentlemen, kill all Reapers!

ALL: [snapping to attention] Kill all Reapers!

VERNER: [Confused] Where?

ANDERSON: Bravo Shepard, I have absolutely no hesitation in appointing you our official regimental artist. You're a damn fine chap, not a pen-pushing, desk-sucking, blotter-jotter like Darling here, eh Darling?

UDINA: No sir.

ANDERSON: No sir! Well, accompany us back to the Citadel immediately.

UDINA: Attention!

[ANDERSON and UDINA exit.]

ALENKO: Permission to jolly well speak right now sir, otherwise I might just burst like a bally balloon!

SHEPARD: Later, Alenko. Much later.

[At the Citadel]

ANDERSON: Congratulations on your new appointment, Shepard.

SHEPARD: Thank you sir.

UDINA: And may I say Shepard, I'm particularly pleased about it.

SHEPARD: Are you?

UDINA: [smugly] Oh yes.

ANDERSON: Now that you are our official war-artist, we can give you the full briefing. The fact is, Shepard, that the 'Alliance and Marines' cover story was just a...cover story. We want you, as our top painting bod, to leave the front lines...

SHEPARD: Good.

ANDERSON: Tonight...

SHEPARD: Suits me.

ANDERSON: And go out into the killfire zone.

SHEPARD: [Flatly] Killfire zone.

ANDERSON: Yeeeeeees.

SHEPARD: Not Thessia.

ANDERSON and UDINA: Noooooooo.

ANDERSON: We want you to come back with accurate drawings of the enemy positions.

SHEPARD: [Incredulously] You want me to fly into the killfire zone, painting pictures of the Reapers. When we have long range scanners and that type of thing already.

ANDERSON: Precisely! Good man!

SHEPARD: Well, it's a very attractive proposition, gentlemen, but unfortunately not practical. You see, my medium is light. It's space. It'll be pitch dark; I won't be able to see a thing.

ANDERSON: Ah, hm, that is a point. I tell you what, we'll send up a couple of space flares. You'll be lit up like a Christmas tree.

SHEPARD: Oh, excellent, excellent, glad I checked.

[SHEPARD, VERNER and ALENKO are flying a shuttle through the killfire zone above Earth]

SHEPARD: All right, total and utter quiet, do you understand? So for instance if any of us get shot by a Reaper they must on no account goaaAAAAAAAAAAHH!

[A shot rattles their shuttle]

VERNER: Have you just been shot, sir?

SHEPARD: No Verner, I just like screaming and shaking this shuttle about for no reason at all.

VERNER: Oh, that's all right then.

SHEPARD: Now, where the hell are we?

ALENKO: Well, it's difficult to say, we appear to have flown into an area marked with mushrooms.

SHEPARD: [Patiently] What do those symbols denote?

ALENKO: Pfff. That we're in a field of mushrooms?

SHEPARD: Lieutenant, that is a military map, it is unlikely to list interesting flora and fungi. Look at the key and you'll discover that those mushrooms aren't for picking.

ALENKO: Good Lord, you're quite right sir, it says "mine". [Pause] So, these mushrooms must belong to the man who made the map.

SHEPARD: Either that, or we're in the middle of a mine-field.

VERNER: Oh dear.

ALENKO: [Confused] So, he owns the field as well?

[Reaper lasers fire]

ALENKO: [yelling] THEY'RE FIRING SIR, THEY'RE FIRING.

[The guns stop.]

SHEPARD: Ah yes, thank you Lieutenant. If they hit me you'll be sure to point it out, won't you. Now come on, get on with your drawing and let's get out of here.

ALENKO: Well, surely we ought to wait for the space flare sir? You see, my medium is light.

SHEPARD: Just use your imagination for heavens sake. [thinks] Wait a minute, that's the answer. I can't believe I've been so stupid.

VERNER: Yeah, that is unusual, 'cos usually I'm the stupid one.

ALENKO: Well, I'm not over-furnished in the brain department.

SHEPARD: Well, on this occasion I've been stupidest of all.

ALENKO: Oh, now sir! I will not have that! Verner and I will always be more stupid than you. Isn't that right Verner? [Yelling] Stupid, stupid, stupid.

VERNER: Yeah, [yelling also] stupidy, stupidy, stupidy.

[Flares are fired, lighting up ALENKO and VERNER. SHEPARD cowers on the floor of the shuttle]

ALENKO: Stupidest stupids in the whole history of stupidityness.

[The Reapers fire; VERNER and ALENKO jump down; the Reapers stop.]

SHEPARD: Finished? I think the obvious point is this: we'll go straight out to the dugout and do the painting from there. You do the most imaginative, most exciting possible drawing of Reaper defences from your imagination.

ALENKO: Oh I see, now that is a challenge.

SHEPARD: Quite. Come on, let's get out of here.

ALENKO: Oh sir, just one thing. If we should happen to fly into a mine, what do we do?

SHEPARD: Well, normal procedure, Lieutenant, is to jump 200 feet into the air and scatter yourself over a wide area.

[Back at the Citadel]

UDINA: Are you sure this is what you saw Shepard?

SHEPARD: Absolutely. I mean there may have been a few more armament factories, and [looks sideways at ALENKO] not quite as many elephants, but...

ANDERSON: Well, you know what this means...

UDINA: If it's true sir, we'll have to cancel the push.

ANDERSON: [Thoughtfully] Exactly...

ALENKO: Damn!

SHEPARD: [With relief] What a nuisance.

ANDERSON: ...Exactly what the enemy would expect us to do, and therefore exactly what we shan't do!

SHEPARD: [Horrified] Ah.

ANDERSON: Now, if we attack where the line is strongest, then the Reapers will think that our reconnaissance is a total shambles. This will lull him into a sense of false security, and then next week we can attack where the line is actually badly defended. And win the greatest victory since the Winchester flower-arranging team beat Harrow by twelve sore bottoms to one!

SHEPARD: [In disbelief] Tell me, have you ever visited the planet Earth, sir?

ANDERSON: We're about to! So, best fighting trousers on, Shepard!

ALENKO: Permission to shout "Bravo" at an annoyingly loud volume sir?

ANDERSON: [Indulgently] Permission granted.

ALENKO: [Annoyingly loud volume] BRAVO!

ANDERSON: That's the spirit. Just your kind of caper eh, Shepard?

SHEPARD: Oh yes.

UDINA: [Sarcastically] Good luck against those elephants!

[SHEPARD and ALENKO salute and leave]

[In the Normandy]

SHEPARD: Get me a chisel and some marble Verner.

ALENKO: Oh, you're taking up sculpture now sir?

SHEPARD: No, I thought I'd get my headstone done.

ALENKO: What are you going to put on it?

SHEPARD: 'Here lies John Shepard, and he's bloody annoyed.'

VERNER: Are we going to take back Earth, are we sir?

SHEPARD: Yes, we are. Unless I can think of some brilliant plan.

VERNER: Would you like some "vorcha-au-van" to help you think? [shows SHEPARD a tin plate with a very flat vorcha on it]

SHEPARD: "Vorcha-au-vin"?

VERNER: Yeah, it's a vorcha that's been...

SHEPARD: [joins in] ..run over by a van. No thank you Verner. Although it gives me an idea. Call the Citadel please.

[The Citadel, later that night. ANDERSON and UDINA are dining]

UDINA: I suppose Shepard and his boys will have gone over the top by now.

ANDERSON: Yes. God, I wish I were out there with them, dodging the bullets, instead of having to sit here drinking this Chateau Lafite, eating these Filets Mignon in sauce Bearnaise.

UDINA: My thoughts exactly sir. Damn this Chateau Lafite.

ANDERSON: He's a very brave man, Shepard. And of course that Lieutenant of his, Alenko, Jon Grissom Academy man you know. His uncle Bertie and I used to break wind for our college. Slightly unusual taste, this sauce Bearnaise...

UDINA: Yes sir, and to be quite frank, these mignon are a little...well...

ANDERSON: What?

UDINA: Well, dungy.

ANDERSON: What on earth's wrong with our cook?

UDINA: Well, it's a rather strange story sir.

ANDERSON: Oh? Tell, tell.

UDINA: Well sir, I received a phonecall this afternoon from Shiala the Consort, telling me that our cook had been selected for one of her pleasure harems and must set sail for Thessia immediately.

ANDERSON: Really?

UDINA: Then a moment later, the phone rang again. It was a trio of wandering krogan chefs, who happened to be in the area, offering their services. So I had the quartermaster take them on at once.

ANDERSON: Ah, hm. [Disgusted] Ah, Oh, OH! Jumping giblets! Are you sure these are real raisins in this plum duff?

UDINA: [Reassuringly] Oh yes, I'm sure they are sir. Everything will be alright, once the cream custard arrives.

[Back in the Normandy. SHEPARD, ALENKO and VERNER enter, wearing cooks'
aprons and huge false krogan humps. VERNER is carrying a jug and a small kitten.]

ALENKO: Well all jolly good fun sir. But dash it all, we appear to have missed the big push.

SHEPARD: Oh damn, so we have. One thing puzzles me Verner; how did you manage to get so much custard out of such a small cat?