Shea Shepard stared at her reflection in the mirror, reaching up to touch the heavy scarring that went over her nose and across her face. Not for the first time, she wondered if she should have taken the Alliance up on their offer to fix the scars. In the aftermath of Elysium, though, she'd been too shell-shocked—and, afterwards, furious at the brass for turning her into a hero when she hadn't wanted or deserved the title—to accept.
Usually, it didn't bother her. Hell, most of the time she wore it proudly. But every now and then, it was a reminder that she could have done without.
Especially today.
"Are you not finished yet?" a voice asked from behind her. "You're going to be late."
Barely holding back a smile, Shepard tore her gaze away from her own reflection. The reflection of a familiar form was visible standing behind her, hands placed firmly on hips in a way that she suspected didn't bode well for her.
"I'm almost thirty, Mom," Shepard said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she turned around. "Believe it or not, I'm pretty good at taking care of myself."
Hannah Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Don't you 'oh' me," Shepard grumbled good-naturedly. "I didn't ask for you to show up at the door to my quarters bearing gifts of vodka and chocolate. Also, by the way, you still haven't told me how you heard the news."
Her mom gave her an overly innocently look. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Shea," she said primly. "The Kilimanjaro is here at Arcturus for the next week going through routine maintenance. Is it so strange that I'd want to visit my daughter before she leaves on her next assignment?"
Shepard snorted. "Considering the fact that your boyfriend lives on Benning, and you usually use any downtime at Arcturus as a chance to take leave to visit him? Yeah, it's pretty damn strange." She met Hannah's gaze without flinching. "You could have visited Kiran. I know you don't get to see each other nearly as much as you'd like."
Hannah rolled her eyes. "If I'd wanted to visit Kiran, I'd be on Benning right now," she said pointedly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Shepard's ear.
"Uh-huh," Shepard said, pulling away and ducking under her mom's arm. "Don't think I didn't notice that you didn't actually tell me who told you about Kathryn."
Shepard heard her mom chuckling behind her, but she didn't turn around. She hurried over to her bed, where her mostly-packed duffel was still resting, and started shoving the rest of her things into her. Shepard didn't want to admit it, but her mothers had been right: if she didn't hurry up, she really was going to be late. And that wouldn't be good no matter how she looked at it.
"Could it not be a coincidence?" Hannah asked, her tone still too innocent for Shepard to believe it for even a second.
"Not with chocolate that expensive," Shepard shot back. "And I'm pretty sure the vodka cost a fair number of credits too."
She closed her duffel, throwing it over her shoulder. Then she turned around to actually look at her mother again. "Come on," she wheedled, "who told you?"
Hannah just smiled. "My sources are confidential."
Shepard rolled her eyes, but she still walked over and gave her a mom a quick one-armed hug that was returned somewhat more wholeheartedly.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hannah asked as Shepard pulled away, her voice serious.
"It's not the first time I've had someone break up with me," Shepard said, shaking her head. "It probably won't be the last, either."
Hannah crossed her arms. "Maybe not, but you were with Kathryn for almost three—"
"And that's my cue to leave before the hypothetical grandchildren get brought up again," Shepard cut in, a broad grin on her face. If her mom noticed that it didn't quite meet her eyes—and Shepard didn't know why she was bothering with "if" considering how well she knew her mother—she didn't comment on it.
Hannah let out a theatrical sigh. "There you go again, breaking my poor heart."
"Uh-huh," Shepard said skeptically. Then she glanced at the old-fashioned clock that she kept by her bed in the sparse quarters she kept at Arcturus and swore. "Fuck, I've got to run."
"I told you that you were going to be late," Hannah said primly, as if she hadn't said a word since her earlier warning.
Shepard laughed and gave her mom a quick peck on the cheek before turning and sprinting for the door. "Give Kiran a hug for me!" she called over her shoulder.
"What makes you think I'm going to Benning?" Hannah called after her, leaning out the still open door to watch Shepard run down the corridor.
Laughing and ignoring the surprised looks she was getting from a few marines walking by, several of whom barely looked old enough to shave, Shepard glanced back over her shoulder one more time. "You have your sources, and I have mine!"
Anderson didn't even raise an eyebrow when Shepard came sprinting up to the Normandy's dock, her duffel bag bouncing heavily against her bag and her heavy breathing making it obvious that she'd run the entire way. "You made better time than I expected," he said mildly.
"You talk to my mother too much, sir," Shepard replied, feeling impressed that she only sounded a little breathless. She came to a stop in front of the captain and gave him a sloppy salute. If there had been anyone else there, she might have been a bit more professional, but without any witnesses she didn't see the harm. Anderson had known her since she'd barely been able to walk; a slightly too casual salute wasn't going to hurt.
At that, the corner of Anderson's mouth twitched just a bit. He didn't comment, but he gave her a small nod of acknowledgement.
She couldn't help but notice that he wasn't starting toward the ship.
"Are we still waiting for someone, Captain?" Shepard asked, tilting her head. She shifted her bag a bit, pulling it into a slightly more comfortable position. She took a few steps forward and turn somewhat, so that she was standing next to the captain rather than in front of him.
Anderson didn't look at her for a moment, his gaze focused somewhere in the distance. After a moment, he made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort and glanced back at her. "Not anymore."
Shepard fought the urge to question him, but she did give him a slight frown. As many years as he'd known her, Anderson knew very well just how little she liked surprises. He didn't necessarily care, of course, but he did know.
And that was when she saw the turian.
Quickly schooling her face, even though she doubted a turian would be familiar enough with human expressions to actually read anything, Shepard stood a little straighter. Beside her, Anderson nodded his head in greeting.
"Spectre Kryik," he said politely.
"Captain Anderson," the turian said, bobbing his own head in what looked like a fair approximation of Anderson's own greeting. Then the turian—Kryik, the captain had called him—turned to her and made the same gesture. "Commander Shepard."
Shepard nodded automatically. "Spectre Kryik," she said, repeating the name and title that the captain had used.
Kryik stared at her for a moment, studying her face much more closely than she was comfortable with. Then his mouth opened in what looked something like a grin, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth. "You didn't tell the commander that I would be on board," he said to Anderson. It was obvious from the tone that it wasn't a question.
Anderson gave a half-shrug, although he shot Shepard what she thought was supposed to be a somewhat apologetic look. "I thought it would be safer if we kept your presence on the shakedown cruise on a need-to-know basis, Nihlus," he said. "At least until we were on the ship and on our way to Eden Prime."
Kryik—or should she be thinking of him as Nihlus?—let out a bark of laughter. "I'm well aware of the comments that your Admiral Mikhailovich has been making," he said, his amusement obvious despite Shepard's limited experience with turians. "I honestly wish that he had made an attempt."
The turian gave the captain and Shepard both another nod before walking past them and toward the Normandy. After a moment's pause, Anderson gestured for Shepard to follow and started that way himself.
"Captain?" Shepard asked quietly.
"His name's Nihlus Kryik," Anderson replied, his voice just as low. "He's a Council Spectre, and he's representing turian interests for the shakedown cruise."
Shepard nodded. "And, uh, Admiral Mikhailovich?"
Anderson shot her an amused look as they walked up to the Normandy. "Hell, Shepard, I know for a fact that your mother has told you plenty of stories about the man. Use your imagination, and you can probably guess the kind of comments he's been making."
She couldn't stop herself from snorting in amusement as they walked through the airlock, earning her a surprised look from the lieutenant standing just inside. The man stared for a brief moment before snapping to attention.
"At ease, Alenko," Anderson said gruffly. "Commander Shepard, this is Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko."
Shepard nodded. "Lieutenant Alenko."
"Sir," Alenko said, nodding at Anderson. Then he did the same to Shepard, standing so straight that she wouldn't help but wonder how the poor man's back hadn't snapped yet. "Ma'am. Welcome on board the Normandy."
The lieutenant hesitated, obviously wanting to say something but not quite working his way up to speaking. Shepard glanced at Anderson and shot him a sharp look.
The look that the captain shot her back was just as pointed, but then he took pity on Alenko. "Were there any issues when Spectre Kryik came on board?" he asked.
Alenko's hesitation was so brief that Shepard wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been paying close attention. "No, sir."
Anderson let out a dry chuckle. "I doubt that," he said. "If it makes you feel any better, Lieutenant, I gave the commander here even less notice than I gave you."
"That really doesn't make me feel any better," Alenko said dryly. There was a few seconds' pause before he quickly added: "Sir."
Shepard bit back a laugh, but she suspected that she didn't quite hide her amusement considering the somewhat startled look that the lieutenant shot her.
The captain shook his head. "Tell Moreau to get us on our way," he told Alenko, who immediately saluted and headed toward the cockpit. Then he turned toward Shepard. "Commander, with me. Let me introduce you to the officers that you haven't already met."
Shooting one last speculative look at the already retreating Alenko, Shepard turned to see Anderson already making his way toward the CIC. He was making a beeline for a man about his own age who standing near the galaxy map, whose picture Shepard vague remembered seeing when she was going through the crew files the night before.
He was… the navigator, she thought? Pearson. Preston. Something along those lines, at least. Mentally chastising herself for not doing a better job of at least memorizing the names of the officers, Shepard hurried to catch up with the captain.
If nothing else, this mission to Eden Prime had the potential to be at least a little more interesting than she had been expecting from a run-of-the-mill shakedown cruise.
Shepard woke up gasping for breath.
She reached out and fumbled for the controls of her sleeper pod, talking a few large gulps of air as it slowly opened. Even though she knew the air inside wasn't any more or less fresh than the air outside, her brain didn't quite believe her. She'd never liked sleeping in pods, and it seemed that hadn't changed in the eight months or so since she'd last been on a ship that didn't actually have a separate crew quarters.
Even though she knew why the Normandy was taking its time heading to the mass relay, giving the pilot enough time to put her through her paces in FTL and make certain everything was working the way it was supposed to, Shepard couldn't help but feel a bit of annoyance about it. The more time it took the Normandy to get to Eden Prime and back, the more time she'd have to spend in sleeper pods; just the thought of those damned things was enough to put her in a bad mood.
"Commander?"
Biting back a curse as she stumbled out of her pod, she looked up and met Lieutenant Alenko's gaze. He was standing at the control panel just outside where the sleeper pods were, a surprised and almost concerned look on his face.
"Lieutenant," she said, nodding at him as she straightened up and let the pod close behind her. Her voice wasn't quite as steady as she would have liked, but there was only so much she could do about that.
For a second or two, she thought he was going to comment on the fact that she was obviously on the verge of having a panic attack. Then he surprised her. Alenko nodded, looking away and giving her a moment to collect herself.
"I've never liked the pods myself," he said casually. A bit too casually, if she was honest with herself, but he was obviously trying to change the subject the best he could. "I can never manage more than four or five hours in them."
"That makes two of us," Shepard muttered under her breath.
Alenko let out a chuckle that almost sounded amused.
Studying his face a bit closer, Shepard couldn't help but notice the slight shadows under his eyes. He looked awake, but she doubted he'd gotten anything near what would be considered a full night's sleep. Maybe there was more to the comment he'd made than merely trying to make her feel better about waking up from what had obviously been a pretty severe nightmare.
Shaking her head, Shepard stretched. Then she made her way down the corridor, heading toward the mess. "Want some coffee, Alenko?" she asked.
He blinked. "It's after hours."
Shepard couldn't resist giving him an amused grin. "Being the XO does have its privileges," she pointed out lightly.
Alenko stared at her long enough that her grin started to fade, and she thought that maybe she had misread something. Then he gave her a weak smile. "Coffee would be terrific."
Shepard couldn't help herself. She smiled back.
"The Arcturus Prime relay is in range. Initiating transmission sequence."
The pilot's voice rang out over the comms as Shepard made her way toward the helm. She'd lost count of the number of jumps she'd been through over the years, but there was always something about that first one on a new ship. Whenever she could manage, she liked to be there when it happened.
"Commander."
She gave a nod at whatever crewmember had greeted her, not stopping in her course toward the front of the ship.
The pilot's voice came over the comms again. "We are connected. Calculating transit mass and destination."
Shepard picked up the pace a little, hurrying to get to the helm before they actually made the jump. She'd heard a lot of things about the pilot of the Normandy, but she wanted to see him in action before she made her mind up about him. Rumors were rumors; she didn't trust anything until she'd seen it with her own eyes.
"The relay is hot. Acquiring approach vector. All stations, secure for transit."
Part of Shepard thought that she should have been surprised when she found Nihlus already standing in the helm, watching the proceedings thoughtfully. Another part thought that she should have expected it. Ever since the Normandy had left Arcturus Station, it had felt like the Spectre had been constantly underfoot.
She'd almost been surprised when Nihlus hadn't been waiting outside her sleeper pod when she'd woken up the night before. Of course, the turian had wandered by the mess not five minutes after she and Alenko had sat down to enjoy a cup each of Anderson's private coffee stash—not that she had told the lieutenant what they had been drinking. She didn't know the man very well, not yet, but she suspected that he might have dropped dead from a heart attack on the spot if he'd realized that he was partaking in ill-gotten coffee.
Still, Nihlus. It was almost as if the turian was stalking her. Which would have been very awkward if Shepard hadn't known that the mission wasn't supposed to last more than a few days.
"The board is green. Approach run has begun."
Shepard held her breath as the mass relay in front of them lit up, barely even aware that she was doing it. It was habit, a child's game for people like her who had grown up on ships in the fleet. All of them had known the rhyme as children, the familiar chant ringing through whatever room they had been in when a jump had been coming. Relay run, hold your breath. If you don't, it could bring death.
The adults had never appreciated it, probably thinking it was inappropriate. The children of the fleet, on the other hand, had been convinced that the world might end if they hadn't made that chant every single time a jump was made.
"Hitting the relay in three, two, one…"
She watched, enraptured, as the Normandy flew into the relay. There was a moment where she felt almost weightless, an unseen pressure pushing down on her, and then they were through. Hundreds of light years away in an instant.
The breath she had been holding burst out of her mouth, almost without her being aware of it, and she took in a deep gulp of air. For just a second, she felt almost like a child again.
Relay run, now we're through. Breathe until the next jump is due.
"Thrusters, check. Navigation, check. Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift just under 1500k."
She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at just how pleased the pilot sounded with himself. She'd heard lots of rumors about him in the days weeks leading up to the Normandy leaving Arcturus, some of which were plausible and a few of which she seriously doubted the validity of—the most recent one she had heard was that he'd gotten the post because he'd stolen the ship, and if that was true she'd… well, she wasn't entirely certain what she'd do, but that rumor was the one she trusted the least.
Still. Anderson himself had described the man as "one smug son of a bitch, but with those skills he can get away with it." And after seeing him in action, she couldn't argue that he deserved to be a bit smug. He could be a bit more subtle about it, though.
Beside her, Nihlus's mandibles flexed a bit. "1500 is good. Your captain will be pleased."
Without saying another word, the Spectre turned and walked away from the helm. Shepard raised an eyebrow, letting her gaze follow him for a moment.
"I hate that guy," the pilot muttered.
Jeffrey Moreau, the captain had called him. Jeff to his friends, which—from what she'd been told—were basically nonexistent. Joker to everybody else. She should probably start using his name, if only in her own thoughts.
"Nihlus gave you a compliment, so you hate him?"
Shepard blinked and glanced at the seat to Moreau's right. She hadn't even noticed Alenko sitting there, but there he was—and, judging by the look he was shooting the pilot, she suspected he was definitely one of the ones who called the man "Joker" rather than his given name.
"You remember to zip up your jumpsuit on the way out of the bathroom, that's good. I just jumped us halfway across the galaxy and hit a target the size of a pinhead, so that's incredible." Moreau paused for just a second. "Besides, Spectres are trouble. I don't like having them on board. Call me paranoid."
"You're paranoid," Alenko shot back. "The Council helped fund this project. They have a right to send someone to keep an eye on their investment."
Shepard barely resisted a snort of laughter as the pilot turned to glare at Alenko.
"Yeah, that is the official story," Moreau grumbled. "But only an idiot believes the official story."
"And they don't send Spectres on shakedown runs," Shepard chimed in thoughtfully. Smug or not, the pilot was making a good point.
Both Moreau and Alenko spun around in their seats at the sound of her voice, the pilot visibly grimacing as he did, almost as if it had hurt him to turn as quickly as he had. She made a mental note to find out what that was about at a later time.
A bit more hesitantly than before, Moreau continued: "So there's more going on here than the captain's letting—"
Moreau was cut off by the comms, Anderson's voice clearly ringing out. "Joker, status report."
The pilot straightened, presumably unconsciously, at Anderson's voice. "Just cleared the mass relay, Captain." He prodded at his controls a bit. "Stealth systems engaged, everything looks solid."
"Good," Anderson said over the comms. "Find a comm buoy and link us into the network. I want mission reports relayed back to the Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime."
"Aye aye, Captain," Moreau responded. He paused for a moment before adding: "Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is headed your way."
"He's already here, Lieutenant," Anderson snapped. "Tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for a debriefing."
Shepard grimaced. She recognized that tone in Anderson's voice.
Moreau didn't even glance back at her. "You get that, Commander?"
"Great," she muttered, lack of sleep making her a bit more forward than she'd normally be to an officer under her. And, smug bastard or not, Moreau was an officer. "You piss the captain off, and now I'm going to pay for it."
The pilot made a disparaging sound. "Don't blame me," he shot back, not even attempting to make it sound as if he was talking to a commanding officer. "The captain's always in a bad mood."
Alenko snorted. "Only when he's talking to you, Joker."
Rolling her eyes, Shepard turned away from Alenko and Moreau's bickering and started toward the comm room. Despite what she'd said, she really didn't think it was Moreau who'd ticked Anderson off. There'd been something in his tone of voice from the moment he'd gone on the comms, before Moreau had even had a chance to open his mouth. Someone or something had, though, and she wanted to find out what.
The last thing she wanted was something unexpected to happen on her watch.