Disclaimer: this story is nonprofit and the author has no ownership over the characters or setting.
Second disclaimer: this story is a sequel to First Infection. The author recommends reading that first to avoid confusion.
Third disclaimer: Specific chapters will have warnings at the top that will indicate that that particular chapter will have sexual content.
Symptoms
Arcturus Stream
Outer space.
There is no bigger or better example of something that is so empty, which is ironic because outer space holds everything. Absolutely everything that exists is in the universe. The problem though, is that "everything" is not enough. The universe is too big to be filled up by "everything," so all of it gets spread out away from each other across near unfathomable distances. Such as it is that nothing is close to anything.
But for all of its emptiness, there are quite a number of interesting things in the universe.
And the ones with thoughts in their heads have found ways to get to these interesting things.
On the black plane covered in white dots that was the backdrop of outer space, sat the bright blue and red gas cloud that was known to the denizens of the galaxy as the Arcturus Stream. And in the Arcturus Stream there was something of such insignificant size compared to the rest of the universe that it could be just that: insignificant, and yet it moved at such phenomenal speeds that it nearly conquered the empty distance that was the galaxy's stomach.
Nearly.
That distinction goes to the object that the little insignificant something was heading toward: a mass relay.
"The Arcturus prime relay is in range, initiating transmission sequence."
Shaped like a tuning fork, the mass relay was of a metal construct of a massive scale. Near the base of this construct was a giant glowing blue core surrounded by two gyroscopic rings that revolved in place around the blue energy.
"We are connected, calculating transit mass and destination."
Moving toward said relay was a starship, not a ship made from stars but one that was built to traverse through the sea of stars.
"Relay is hot, acquiring approach vector."
Shaped in the curves of elegance, the starship's two wings held aloft four mighty engines that blasted the craft through the emptiness of space.
"All stations, secure for transit."
In the soundlessness of space, the starship drew ever closer to the mass relay as the construct's gyroscopic rings started to spin faster in complete silence.
"Board is green, approach run has begun."
Now close enough to the mass relay, the starship diverted its angle of trajectory to curve to the side of the giant relay.
"Hitting the relay in… three… two… one."
Suddenly, a stream of blue energy jumped out of the core and enveloped the starship in a blue glow before catapulting the tiny ship instantaneously to somewhere far away with nothing but a stream of blue lines of the ship's trajectory to be left behind before those too faded away.
CSV Normandy
Surrounded by glowing holographic interfaces sat a male human in a chair. With elongated fingers and a protruding spine that popped out of its slightly hunched form, the male human belonged to the subset category of humans known as special infected, but more specifically he belonged to the jockey mutation.
Reaching a hand up to straighten the navy cap that was atop of his head, the jockey pressed a few tabs on the holographic interface and started doing a systems check of the ship he piloted.
"Thrusters… check. Navigation… check. Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift… just under fifteen hundred K," he finished aloud with just the smallest hint of pride in his voice near the end.
Standing a bit back behind the seated form of the pilot stood a complete rarity on a human vessel: an alien.
Nihlus Kyrik, with hard plated skin, a pair of three-talon hands, and a set of mandibles around the mouth was of the species called turian, the proud militaristic race of the Citadel Council prevailing from Palaven. Wearing the white facial markings of his clan, Nihlus tilted his head slightly downward to address the pilot.
"Fifteen hundred is good, you're captain will be pleased," he complimented neutrally.
"Damn right the captain will be pleased!" the pilot shouted enthusiastically, surprising Nihlus a bit, although he did keep a somewhat straight face at the pilot's outburst. With a jump, the pilot twisted around and gripped the headrest of the seat, his now-in-view thin messy beard curved by a smirk, "I just hit a target the size of a needle, the smaller pointy end of a needle I might add, and just jumped us halfway across the galaxy, so that's incredible!"
Fringing his mandibles in slight irritation, Nihlus responded with slight tones of sarcasm, "Same with the millions of other pilots who've ever traveled through a mass relay."
With an annoyed grunt the pilot sat back down the right way, "True, but no pilot can do it with the same kind of pizazz that I can."
"Piz-what?"
Ignoring the alien's confusion the pilot turned to his right looking for confirmation, "Ain't that right, Kaiden?"
Sitting in the ship's co-pilot seat was another human, but covered completely in white armor. Belonging to the smoker mutation, the individual's protruding tongues were hidden under the thick armor while two ventilation shafts situated on the armor's back expelled the green smoke that smokers naturally gave off from their bodies. The helmet that covered the co-pilot's head had a thin mechanical crack along the bottom-half of it that could be snapped open to present the individual's mouth, and the helmet also had a large, glowing red optical unit to serve as the suit's camera.
Kaiden silently turned his helmeted head toward the pilot, the glowing red eye staring into the jockey's face neutrally.
After a small moment of staring, Kaiden, without a word, turned his head back to the holographic interface before him.
With a smile, the pilot also returned to the controls at his fingers, "That's right," he confirmedly nodded in agreement.
Nihlus just shook his head in disappointment, "I would have thought that the Collective's best pilot would be a lot more disciplined than this."
The pilot turned his head back slightly toward Nihlus, "Oh, don't be a hardass, we've already got the captain who's been filling out that role recently," he replied irritably.
"First off, I'm only like that to smartasses, namely you, and second, my ass is firm, not hard, there is a distinct difference."
As one, all three turned their heads to find the ship's commanding officer walking up to them.
Captain Shepard.
With bright green eyes that glowed naturally and sunny blonde hair that flowed voluminously just slightly down past her shoulders, Shepard was a female of the human race as noted by her wide hips and her generous-sized mammary glands. Weighing down on her shoulders was a dark brown leather trench coat that stretched down to just below her knees and had the four military bars of captain stitched on the end of the coat's arms. The coat was hanging open on her form and so allowed everyone to see her dark green tank top that hugged her figure nicely and her loose, brown cargo pants that dangled from her hips to her black combat boots.
And hanging at her sides were her hands, her claws, her twelve-inch-long claws that were the mainstay of the witch mutation. Starting off with the white Caucasian skin at her palms, her skin darkened in color to a black ivory hue that surrounded her long, diamond-hard claws.
Addressing Nihlus, she said, with a smirk on her face and a nod toward the pilot, "Don't mind Joker, he's a pilot and all pilots have egos the size of their wingspan, and unfortunately for us the navy has yet to find a dreadnought that fits his size, so they dropped him in with us and now we're stuck with him."
"Damn straight!"
"But anyways," continued Shepard as she addressed Nihlus, "your presence has been requested in the comm room."
Nihlus crossed his arms and gave Shepard an inquisitive stare, "I assume that the communications room is still in the same place and that it hasn't been moved around from the ship's original design."
"Yes, it's still in the same place," answered Shepard who then gestured in the direction away from the cockpit with a nod of her head, "just keep going that way and go through any of the doors that doesn't open up the elevator and you'll be there."
"Hmm," with a silent nod of thanks, Nihlus turned and headed toward where Shepard had directed.
Staying back, Shepard stood silently in the cockpit as she watched the turian march off.
After she was satisfied that Nihlus had walked far enough away she cocked her head back slightly and said, "Joker, status report."
"We've just cleared the mass relay. The stealth systems are engaged and we are en route to Eden Prime," replied Joker, "Everything looks solid."
"Good, good," said Shepard, nodding at the words.
She then swiftly twisted around and stabbed Joker in the cheek with her claws.
"Ow! Hey!"
But with only just enough force to barely pierce the skin.
Rubbing the painful pinprick that he received on the side of his face, Joker gave his captain an angry questioning stare.
"Joker, please don't piss off the alien spectre," Captain Shepard requested of her pilot in a tired tone, "the entire point of this mission is to improve relations with the aliens, not annoy them."
"Hey! He was sassing my skills as a pilot! What was I supposed to do?"
With a questioning eyebrow raised, Shepard turned to the other occupant of the cockpit, "…Kaiden?"
"Nihlus gave him a compliment and he threw it in his face," Kaiden answered meticulously without looking up from the interface.
"Hey! Don't sell me out you quiet prick-Ow!" Joker's outburst was interrupted by another 'light' poke of his cheek.
"Just shut up and drive," said Shepard with a smirk, "and that's an order."
Rubbing his slightly bleeding cheek, Joker grumbled, "Yes, ma'am," and focused back onto the ship's controls.
Smiling, Shepard patted Joker on the head and gave him a quick kiss on his injured cheek, "That's a good boy," she said in a humorously mocking tone before turning around and walking out of the cockpit, leaving a disgruntled pilot.
"What am I? A trained house pet?"
"…It would be an improvement," replied Kaiden.
Walking down the main aisle of the Combat Information Center that connected the cockpit to the center of the CIC, Shepard came upon the galaxy map. Suspended in midair in the very center of the CIC was a holographic representation of the Milky Way galaxy, in all of its spiral glory. Surrounding the glowing hologram were various consoles that glowed a bright orange from their holographic interfaces. One of these consoles was being attended by her executive officer.
The executive officer in question turned around at the sound of approaching footsteps and immediately saluted his commanding officer in greeting, "Congratulations, Captain, looks like we've had a smooth run."
"So it seems, Pressly," replied Shepard. Pressly was of the Spitter mutation, so his shaved head was situated on top of an elongated neck that gave him a few inches in height to the Captain. And to Shepard's notice, he looked just the tiny bit stressed.
"Anything the matter?" she asked.
Pressly shook his head, "Not really, no. But… well, I am just a bit anxious for when we have aliens onboard the Normandy. There's just going to be so many problems."
"That's some opinion you've got there, Pressly," replied Shepard, crossing her arms under her breasts, "I didn't know you had such little hope for this peace project."
With a surprised look on his face, Pressly quickly attempted to amend what he meant, "Oh! No, ma'am. I'm not saying that. I just mean that us, us humans I mean, don't have a whole lot of experience with aliens and the experience that we do have wasn't exactly under peaceful pretenses, so complications are going to pop up, there's just no way around it."
Shepard let loose a quirky smile, "You can calm down, Pressly, I was only teasing. I know quite well that you meant nothing by it," she then nodded solemnly, "But I do see your point, but there's really no reason to worry about that now, at least not like that. In a mission like this, complications are to be expected," she then showed off a smile, "in fact, fixing them is near the entire point of this mission."
"Yeah, I suppose your right," agreed Pressly, his posture and tone slightly less anxious than previously, but still somewhat concerned.
It was then that Shepard noticed what was going on just a few paces behind Pressly, "Speaking of complications…" she muttered, "please, excuse me," Shepard then walked past her executive officer and headed toward the conversation next to the ship's elevator that was going on between the smoker, the charger, and…
…and the turian spectre, Nihlus Kyrik.
"Well, it's a very peaceful planet and we're mostly a farming community there. Why we farm all kinds of things there: corn, wheat, carrots, we also breed commons by the bush loads there," said the charger to the turian. A male, as all chargers are, he had the huge, naturally armor-plated arm that he hung in front of his broad chest. "Oh! And weed. We grow a ton of weed there."
"And you don't know why we would be heading there?" asked Nihlus, his tone polite but inquisitive.
With his larger arm, the charger took off his beret, and with his smaller arm he proceeded to scratch an itch on his head as he answered the question, "None that I can think of, we're already well stocked with food and we've got plenty of commons down in the lower cargo hold. And the planet's only got one hive city, the capital up in the mountains, and no R&D facility," the charger finished his words by placing his beret back on his head.
"What the hell is this?" asked Shepard as she walked up to them, her sharp hands flayed out in the open questioningly as if to better catch the answer that will be thrown at her. Her tone of voice did not indicate any kind of anger, just confusion.
"Ah, apologies Captain Shepard," answered Nihlus, "I was on my way to the comm room when I near ran into Private Jenkins here," he gestured toward the large charger with the slightly wide ears, "I learned that he's originally from Eden Prime and so I decided to stay and ask him a few question about the planet we're headed to."
"…Right, well that's all well and good, but I think it's time we headed to the comm room," said Shepard, she then turned to the charger and nodded to him in goodbye, "Private Jenkins."
Jenkins nodded back, "Captain."
Shepard turned to the female smoker with the long auburn hair standing next to the private, "Kelly Chambers," she nodded.
With eyes cheerfully closed and a smile that absolutely glowed happiness, she gave the captain a short hand wave goodbye, "See you later, captain," she replied chirpily.
"Well then," said Shepard as she faced Nihlus and gestured her arms to the entrance to the communications room situated behind the elevator, "shall we?"
Nihlus just only nodded his answer before walking through the doors that automatically slid open for him with Captain Shepard following. Behind them, the female smoker known as Kelly put her hand on Jenkins shoulder, leading him to the elevator, "C'mon, Private," she said, "I can tell that you're stressed, so let's go down to the crew quarters and I'll help soothe you."
Once inside the communications room, Nihlus couldn't help but comment on it.
"It's a lot bigger and more intricate than it was originally designed," he said neutrally with no indication in his voice that would make his comment sound like a complaint.
And indeed Nihlus was correct in his assessment. From the entrance the communications room broadened out horizontally into a rectangular shape. The walls were covered in various screens, some were blank while others were filled with bits of data that streamed along the screens. Scattered along various parts of the surface floor were mechanical projectors that were used to project all sorts of holograms in the midst of the room. In the very center of the room, slightly elevated from the surface with a ramp leading to it was a wide platform. Circular in design and with railings trimming the diameter of it this platform held a round conference table. Overlooking this platform was a large holographic screen that displayed a picture of green pastures.
On this platform and leaning against the table was a yellow eyed witch in a translucent white robe.
"Nihlus, this is Anita Goyle. She will be humanity's ambassador on the Citadel," said Shepard, introducing her fellow witch to the turian as they both walked up the ramp.
"Actually, no," replied Anita as she removed her slouch figure from against the table, "because humanity doesn't have an embassy on the Citadel, I'm not technically an ambassador of the Collective. Instead, I'm the representative of the humans on the Collective and Citadel shared Normandy starship and will act as the envoy for the Collective government for this peace project and I will have Captain Anderson and Doctor Isaac Kleiner acting as my advisors to the military and research development branches of our government."
With a raised eyebrow and a cheerful smirk, Shepard said, "So, basically you're humanity's ambassador."
Anita rolled her glowing yellow eyes, "In reality: yes. In politics: no."
"And of course those two things are entirely separate from each other."
A knowing smile crossed Anita's features, "Of course."
"Speaking of which," crossing his arms, Nihlus stared at the both of them at the same time, "jabs at politics aside, I would very much like to know why we're not heading to the Citadel right now to drop the ambassador off and to pick up the rest of the ship's crew as was originally planned?"
"Why because of the prothean beacon, of course!" answered an enthusiastic voice from behind them to which belonged to a jockey in a white lab coat coming up the ramp. With a shaved head, a ruffled lab coat and thick, black rimmed glasses over his eyes he looked every part the scientist. Following behind him was a charger wearing the formal navy blue officer's uniform complete with the captain's cap.
"Nihlus, this is Doctor Isaac Kleiner," Shepard introduced the jockey in the lab coat who nodded in greeting, "and this is Captain Anderson," the charger gave a short, firm nod to Nihlus.
Nihlus returned the nods in greeting before facing Dr. Kleiner, "You mentioned a prothean beacon?"
Dr. Kleiner nodded vigorously, "Yes, Yes, it was just recently uncovered on Eden Prime," Dr. Kleiner's arm was suddenly covered by glowing silver palettes and with a few quick taps on the interface, the holographic screen that was overlooking them all changed from a picture of green pastures to one of a monolithic alien device situated in the middle of an excavation site, "Quite remarkable really, it's almost entirely preserved. Why, a discovery like this hasn't been made since humanity uncovered those alien ruins on Mars."
"And the Collective has decided to share this discovery with the Citadel as a show of trust," said Anita with a politician's smile on her face.
"Provided, of course, if Dr. Kleiner assists in studying it and all of its uncovered secrets are shared openly with us," interjected Captain Anderson sternly.
Nihlus gave each of them an inquisitive stare. Protheans were an ancient alien race that once had a galaxy spanning empire fifty thousand years ago before they vanished. It is they who are credited with creating the Citadel and the mass relays, by which without interstellar travel would be impossible. All advanced galactic civilizations are based upon the scraps of prothean technology found in ancient ruins, to find a working beacon…
Why would the Collective openly share this with the Citadel, a faction that they share a tense relationship with at best? Unless of course…
Nihlus folded his arms smugly, "Who else already knows about the beacon's existence?"
Three frowns were worn in that room, but Shepard had a demure smile as she eyed the spectre, "Well, aren't you a perceptive one," she said knowingly. The captain of the Normandy shrugged in a nonchalant way, "If you must know, we discovered an STG spy drone over Eden Prime just a few days after we uncovered the prothean beacon, so we can assume someone on the Citadel already knows."
"Shepard!" Anderson said warningly.
"Hmm?" It was then that Shepard noticed the looks she was receiving from her fellow humans, "Ah, right," Shepard raised her clawed hands to make finger quotations, "the allegedly STG spy drone," she let loose another nonchalant shrug, "either way, it's destroyed, we assume the Council already knows, and here we are," she finished as she leaned against the railing casually.
And there it was.
Prothean artifacts have immense scientific value and are considered to belong to the galaxy as a whole. Harboring one for yourself could strain a species relationship with the other races of the galaxy at the best of times.
Before the prothean beacon was uncovered, humanity and the Citadel Council were not having the best of times.
Caught red-handed, the Collective had no choice but to share this discovery with the rest of the galaxy, or else it could result into a bloody war.
Having no desire to start such a war, Nihlus adopted a politically polite attitude and played his role.
He focused his polite demeanor onto Anita, "To share something of this kind of value would definitely improve humanity's public image in the eyes of the Citadel, and I am sure the Council will agree to your terms" said Nihlus, he then looked at them all inquisitively, "So long as your government is entirely okay with this."
"Yes, it is," answered Anita quickly before she then took an aside glance and mumbled, "well… at least two thirds of the government is."
Shepard brought a clawed hand up to her lips to stifle her giggles.
"Ah yes," said Dr. Kleiner in a neutral tone as he straightened his glasses, "the Director and Advisors of the Research and Development division were a bit… clingy to the beacon."
Captain Anderson let loose a derisive snort, "That's putting it lightly."
Any comment that Nihlus was going to make was abruptly cut off by Joker's voice over the intercom, "Captain, we've got a problem."
"What is it, Joker?" asked Shepard, her head tilted upward by some natural impulse to do so.
"We've got five unidentified frigates in Eden Prime's orbit, right over the position of the excavation site," answered Joker.
"Have they noticed us?" questioned Shepard, her tone was much more serious now.
"Stealth systems are engaged and they haven't changed their formation on our approach, so as far as I can tell they haven't noticed us?"
"Good," she said with a smirk, "I'd hate to have those stealth systems be an entire waste of time and money," a frown then crossed her features, "Joker, can you establish a secure transmission with anyone planetside? Eden Prime's main Administrative tower, maybe?"
"Communication ain't exactly my specialty, captain, but Kaiden says he might be able to," replied Joker.
"Do it."
"Yes, ma'am," that was Kaiden over the intercom this time.
Shepard turned to address the others in the room, "So, does anyone have any ideas on who exactly it is that's trying to botch the Normandy's first mission?"
"Pirates? Mercenaries? It's probably some faction originating from the Terminus systems," proposed Nihlus, "no doubt they're here for the beacon."
"The Terminus Systems?" questioned Anita, "The Collective is on relatively good terms with them, and I doubt they even know we have the beacon."
"Captain!" That was Kaiden on the intercom again, "I was unable to contact anyone planetside, not without giving away our position, but I was able to pick up a receding transmission from Eden Prime, it's an audio recording."
"Play it," ordered Shepard as everyone stayed silent to listen.
The first thing that was heard was static, and then came some garbled voices, it was clear that the recording was damaged somehow. Sounds of gunshots and explosions were heard off somewhere in the background as someone started talking.
"-need evac! We need evac! They came out of nowhere! We-agh!"
An explosion cut off the speaker's voice as the audio became static.
"-orking! Commons are ineffective! We're taking heavy casualties! We…"
Silence.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THA-"
And then suddenly the speaker's voice and all of the gunshots and explosions that were heard in the background were overtaken by the loudest, most reverberating eruption of sound that anyone in the room has ever heard. So horrible it was that everyone in the room brought up their hands to their earholes to block out the sound until the audio recording ended.
"By the Spirits," muttered Nihlus, "what was that?"
"It sounded like a horrible klaxon from hell," answered Shepard.
"Whatever it was, it doesn't matter," said Anderson before he focused on Shepard, "Captain Shepard, the beacon must be secured."
"Right," she agreed with a nod, "I'll get Kaiden and Jenkins, a small strike team will be our best chance in securing the beacon."
"I agree," said Nihlus, "and I'll be joining."
"What?!" Shepard looked utterly taken aback at Nihlus's words, "are you kidding me? No! You'll be swarmed by the commons!"
"Ah, yes, about that," replied the turian spectre as he held out a small canister, "I was going to tell you, Citadel scientists have been developing a way for us non-infected individuals to not be targeted by your commons."
Silence reigned between the four infected humans as they all stared at the turian in… amazement? No, not amazement. It was more of trepidation than anything else. Apprehension and worry crossed their faces as they gave each other sidelong glances.
"Which is good," continued Nihlus, not noticing or perhaps perfectly ignoring the humans' expressions, "because this will help open relations with other races for you guys. Of course, this," he shook the canister in his talons, "is only a prototype and will only work for a few hours, but if it works then I and the rest of the nonhuman crew can join the missions that are situated on human planets."
"…Right, yeah that's… great, this is a… good thing," answered Shepard, her tone worrisome, but she then quickly shrugged it off, "look, we'll talk about it after we've secured the beacon, but if you think it works, then I guess you can join me on this mission." With that, Shepard marched toward the exit of the comm room.
"Wait," said Nihlus with confusion in his voice, "You're joining? As the captain, shouldn't you stay on the Normandy?"
After the bombshell that Nihlus just dropped on all of them, Shepard was glad that she was able to befuddle the spectre, if only a little. Turning her head back with a smile on her face, Shepard said, "Pressly and Anderson can handle things up here, besides," as she walked, Shepard's claws traced against the railing, creating just the barest hint of a scraping sound, "I work better on the ground."
Earth, Administrative Tower
2182 C.E. One year before the launch of the Normandy
"How about this guy," a gruff voice uttered, "Josh Mack, served in the military for thirty years, gained recognition during the Battle of Mindoir-"
"I've seen his file," interrupted a voice, "he has a great military career, but his knowledge of our society is limited to a couple of hive cities. Plus, he was recommended by Fleet Admiral Gray, and I don't want anyone recommended by Gray on that ship."
"Not everyone under Gray's command is as ruthless, you know?"
"I know, Bill, but I still want someone who can best represent all of humanity. Not just the single territory they were born in, and for that, I need someone who's knowledgeable of the Collective's many societies."
"You're killing me here, Louis," the gruff voice responded, "Whoever we pick is going to have to share command of that ship with one of the Council's spectres, one of their most elite and deadly units, and I will not choose someone unless I know that they won't kowtow to whatever that Council spectre demands."
"Look, military career isn't the problem here, you've brought plenty of applicants. But whoever we choose is going to be the face of humanity for the rest of the galaxy, so we need to find someone in this pile who can best represent humanity as a decent people, not just as a race with good soldiers."
The sound of footsteps.
"If I may interject, gentlemen," a smooth voice entered the picture, "I believe I have the candidate that will satisfy both of your requirements."
"Well," grumbled the gruff voice, "if it isn't the elusive leader of our Intelligence division."
"Don't mind him, Nick. Who do you have for us."
"Her name is Shepard, she's a captain in the Hell's Legion."
"A Hell's Legionnaire? Ha!" laughed the gruff voice, "To have one of his soldiers in command of that ship. Now that would be a sight to see if it wasn't so stupid."
"She's the one you want," persisted the smooth voice.
"Let me see that applicant file you have of her," ordered the gruff voice.
"Certainly."
"Let's see here… this says that she's only been in the Hell's Legion for seven years and that she has very little experience in commanding a vessel."
"She has plenty of experience commanding a vessel; she just hasn't done so in the military."
"I'm sorry, but who is she again?"
"She changed her last name to Shepard, but we've always known her as Alyx," the smooth voice answered.
"…" Silence.
It was silent.
"Wait, when you mean Alyx, do you mean… Alyx?"
"Yes, it's her."
Silence
"…Holy shit, she disappeared off the face of the earth over a century ago!"
"And you've found her," said the gruff voice.
"Found implies that she was ever lost to begin with," replied the smooth voice.
"Why didn't you tell us you were keeping tabs on her?!"
"I promised her that I wouldn't say anything."
"She knew that you would find her, so she went to you and made you promise," the gruff voice summarized.
"Yes," answered the smooth voice, "and I would appreciate it if you didn't meet her, I do have a promise to keep after all."
"When can we meet her? Because I think that after a century, it is long overdue."
"Soon," answered the smooth voice, "she does want to meet all of us again, she wouldn't apply to a position like this one if she didn't want to on some level."
"There is the matter of her application," interjected the gruff voice, "she's not just doing this to get our attention is she?"
"Of course not, she can and will do this."
"You think she's the best humanity has to offer?"
"…Louis, Bill, she's been everywhere. She's done everything that there is to be done in the Collective. She has more experience than anyone in that pile of applicants you have there on that table combined, so yes. I do believe that she is humanity's best."
Author's Note
I…
AM…
BACK!
Yes, that's right everyone after five months of waiting, the sequel to First Infection is here. Submitted on the ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY of this story, go ahead, check the dates both stories were published.
You know, when I was writing this story I kept twirling my mustache all evil-like whenever I wrote something that deviated from the norm.
Except, I don't have a mustache, so… yeah…
Anyways! I will admit that this chapter did follow, in some linear aspect, the introduction to the first game. In later chapters, I plan on trying to lessen the similarity to the original story in various ways, until maybe only a mission's basic outline is similar to the original.
That said, there are already many changes to the original Normandy crew, some of which you can spot in this very chapter.
Omake 1
"So… let me get this straight."
Shepard turned to Nihlus, whom had a curious look on his face.
"This starship is going to spear point the peace project that's going to bring peace between our governments, and you decide to name it after the location of the most bloodiest and life-costing battle from the one of the most devastating wars that you humans have ever experienced?"
"Well," said Shepard, "we were going to name it the Geneva, after where the Geneva conventions were created, because it established the standards of international law for the humanitarian treatment of war. Which we thought would go well with this ship, but…"
"But what?"
"Well… Normandy just sounded cooler, ya'know?"
Hmm… I seem to be forgetting something…
Something important…
Something that I promised…
OH! THAT'S RIGHT!
Omake 2
This was the battle of the century-NO!
…The battle of the millennium.
On one side was a humongous being of epic proportions. With a broad chest and large arms that literally bulged with muscles this being was known as a tank.
But this was no ordinary tank, this tank had an eloquent posture, he wore a classy top hat atop of his head, and he had a fancy monocle situated over his right eye. In his large, muscular hands, hands that could easily rip bone from muscle as one would tear paper, there was a white teacup filled with some of the most exquisite tea to ever originate from the large island known as Great Britain.
Yes, this was a tank that perfectly portrayed the very upper crust of society, and it is because of this that he is known as: Sir Tank.
Across from him was his opponent.
A slim figure he was, especially in comparison to the towering figure that was Sir Tank. But this should not stop one from acknowledging the sheer awesomeness that was…
Mordin The Great, who was so great that even the "the" in his title was capitalized.
This was the salarian who one time kicked a krogan so hard in the balls, he neutered the entire race.
When everyone in the universe was puking their guts out, he was enjoying a sloppy joe.
When he gambles, his success is absolute.
He travels through space on a motorcycle, only because his jetpack was in the shop.
He is…
The Most Amazing Salarian in the Universe.
And today, he battles Sir Tank.
Mordin The Great and Sir Tank stare through each other with piercing gazes. They had been staring at each other for hours on end, waiting for one to make his first move in a battle that not only decides the fate of the universe, but of also who will get the last piece of pizza.
Sweat bathes their backs, their faces were scrunched up in pure concentration.
Suddenly, Mordin raises his hand, his left hand to be precise, and with slow steady ease he grabs the pawn and moves it across the chessboard exactly one space forward.
Sir Tank raised his tea in recognition, "Splendid first move, good sir."
"Fascinating."
And then the universe exploded.
Twice.
Don't forget to leave a comment or a review. And remember, I'll love you more if you make your review longer. Your contribution is like adrenaline to us writers and inspires us to write more.
BUT FIRST! I WANT TO HEAR FROM ALL OF MY OLD FOLLOWERS, ESPECIALLY OF THOSE WHO HAD COMMENTED ON MY STORY BEFORE! PLEASE, TAKE THE TIME TO SAY SOMETHING IN THE COMMENT SECTION, EVEN IF IT'S SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS: "I AM HERE AND FOLLOWING," THAT WILL DO. SO COME ON EVERYBODY! AND DON'T BE AFRAID TO COMMENT FOR YOUR FIRST TIME, I DON'T BITE, NOT THAT I COULD EVEN IF I WANTED TO!
Seriously though, it's great to be back writing.
