Chapter 2

(14 years ago)

It was cloudy.

The computers that governed Arcturus' artificial weather system had today decided that the holographic ceiling of the station's main atrium would project a gray overcast sky. The station maintained a day and night cycle that was synchronous with that of the earth, keeping the sleep and waking cycles of its 45,000 inhabitants intact.

Besides the ship hangars, Arcturus' atrium was the largest single room in the station. Along the walls of the hall were six gardens, each containing flora native one of the six continents that were capable of supporting plant growth. In the center of the room was a small, calm reflecting pool. Above the pool hovered a globe of the Earth, made of brushed steel. The outlines of the continents, oceans, and islands of Earth dotted its surface. Held in place by an array of magnets from beneath the pool, it hung inches off the surface of the water, rotating slowly. At the far end of the room was a semicircular platform of steel and marble, raised from the main floor by three steps that ran the length of the stage. Three large doors in the back and sides of the wall remained open, allowing the free passage of men and materials through the room. Fans concealed in the walls and ceiling kept a light air current moving through the room, keeping the air fresh and fluid. On regular days, the hall served as a park, with tables and benches where the station's inhabitants could relax or gather to work on their many tasks in areas other than their designated work spaces. Often, vendors sold their goods to the members of the Alliance Military and Parliament. On special occasions, the room was used for parliament conferences, military ceremonies, and sometimes even for concerts given pro bono by some of Earth's hottest celebrity musicians. And each year, this room was the site of the graduation from the Systems Alliance Academy. The graduates traveled from the main academy complex on Terra Nova to the Alliance headquarters where they would graduate in front of Humanity's leaders. The platform at the head of the room was adorned with the blue, white, and silver banners of the Alliance, and rows upon rows of chairs lined the steel floor. Academy graduates, parliament delegates, families, leaders and dignitaries of Earth's nations, high ranking military officials, and other people of importance descended upon the station for the ceremony, ready to send forth the next batch of officers into the Systems Alliance's ranks.

The Systems Alliance Academy on Terra Nova was the first and only truly international military academy in human history. In addition to being a premier academic university that gave students the ability to study anything from molecular genetics to music performance to military tactics, students also underwent rigorous military training that incorporated techniques and learning styles refined and perfected from the standing armies, navies, and air forces of Earth's nations. The academy accepted students from all across the Earth and human colonies, and improving relations with other races had led to student exchange programs with educational institutions from many different galactic civilizations. Tomorrow was the students' graduation, where they would be given their officer's insignia. According to their specialty, the newly instated officers would be assigned to positions throughout the Alliance, beginning their career among the hundreds of thousands of men and women representing humanity throughout the wider galaxy.

The SSV Einstein of the second fleet arrived through the nearby relay and joined the host of Alliance ships that were orbiting Themus, the planet around which Arcturus circled. Military ships and civilian transports had arrived in huge numbers, bringing the many guests to the graduation ceremony. A shuttle exited the carrier's hangar and sped towards the giant station. As it passed into one of Arcturus' hangar bays, a tall, balding man with a salt and pepper goatee stood behind a sixteen year old boy, his hand rested on the boy's shoulder. The boy was tall for his age, but skinny, with shaggy dark hair that fell unkempt over his ears and neck and eyes of shocking green. It was clear, however, that the boy was stronger than he appeared, the definition of his athletic build apparent under his civilian clothes. He smiled, eagerly awaiting the shuttle's passenger.

The executive officer of the Einstein stepped off the shuttle and smiled at her son who sprang into her arms.

"Hi Alan," whispered Commander Hannah Shepard into his ear.

Her husband followed his son and kissed his wife.

"Hello Doctor," she said lovingly, "how were your students this semester?"

"Good for the most part. Had a couple students drop out of my particle physics class, but I also had some really bright kids," Dr. Thomas Shepard embraced his wife again. "It's so good to see you honey, I've missed you."

"Just a couple more months until my deployment is finished. Alan will be out of school and we can visit the Mediterranean for our vacation. I'm so happy I was invited to the graduation and am able to see you and Alan."

"After fifteen years of teaching I sure hope I'd be able to get my wife an invitation to speak at the academy's graduation!"

"Mom," Alan piped up eagerly, "The R&R center on level three installed some new simulators last month. Want to go check them out?"

"Sure kiddo, lets head by our room so I can drop my things off alright?"

The Shepards headed for one of Arcturus' three hotels, in which Alan's father had managed to reserve a room. Between the combined string pulling of the academy professor and the Alliance commander, they had managed to reserve a small room several months ago. Although Arcturus was a military installation, it still functioned on the level of a full scale city. From hotels to movie theaters to gymnasiums, the Alliance made sure that the station's inhabitants received appropriate rest and relaxation during their time on the station, and that visitors to the station were able to live in comfort. Graduation, however, presented a difficult situation for the Arcturus management. The two hotels on the station were reserved many months in advance by national leaders and military brass. However, the massive influx of people during graduation week was far too much for the normal Arcturus accommodations could handle. In the week before the Academy's graduation saw a massive overhaul of one of the station's five major hangars. The hangar was converted into quarters for families, Academy professors, and other graduation attendees who were not able to obtain quarters aboard the military and transport vessels on which they arrived. It was a feat of logistical genius. Maintenance crews erected eight floors of temporary compartmentalized rooms in the weeks before the commencement ceremony. They were far from luxurious, furnished with small barracks-style beds, a tiny refrigerator, and a desk. Residents had to use communal bathrooms and were nowhere near any of the cooking facilities. But the provisional accommodations nearly doubled the visiting capacity of the station, allowing families, friends, and other graduation attendees to witness the ceremony.

The hotels, by comparison, were high quality accommodations designed to house the many civilian contractors, intelligence analysts, national leaders of earth, and alien ambassadors and diplomats that frequented the Systems Alliance headquarters. Hannah Shepard dropped her bags on one of the beds in the room and changed into her civilian clothes, letting her deep auburn hair fall below her shoulders. Although she was approaching her forties, she still had the ability to turn heads. She had a fire about her – a sense of charisma that inspired the loyalty of her comrades. She was a talented officer and leader and had earned the respect of superiors and subordinates alike. It was a trait she took every chance to teach her only child.

Five kilometers in diameter, the station was essentially a giant quartered ring. Most of Arcturus' activity was located in the ring itself. Inside the station, the floors were arranged so that the ceiling was directed towards the center of the ring, and the station spun at a rate that caused the centrifugal forces to act as a surrogate for gravity. The massive structures that quartered the ring ran straight across the station, connecting the opposite ends of the ring. At the center resided the zero gravity laboratories, zero gravity training facilities, and storage areas.

Through the station ran a transit system, quite similar to the subway of a major city. Magnetics guided the monorail train as it slid smoothly through the station's tunnels, shipping people and materials around the fifteen kilometer circumference of the station's ring.

Alan Shepard's father stayed in the hotel room, needing the opportunity to finish correcting his students' final exams. Hannah and her son left for the Arcturus rec center. It was a ten minute walk to the nearest station followed by a short stint on the transit train.

Alan relished the time alone with his mom. He spent most of his time at a private school on Mindoir, and although he enjoyed his time at school with his friends, he equally enjoyed his time in space with his family. He pressed his mother for stories of her deployment, and she told him of joint turian and human training missions, peacekeeping sorties over the krogan DMZ, and raids on pirate strongholds in the Skyllian Verge. She in turn listened as he talked about his teachers and friends at school and his youthful adventures in the Mindoiran city of New Boston. She smiled as he spoke of his success on the school football, swimming, and baseball teams and his efforts to keep his seventh spot from the top of his class of nearly six hundred.

It bothered Hannah Shepard that she could not always be there for her son. Her deployments sometimes lasted for up to a year, and although she would still be able to return to their home on Terra Nova for several months, Alan's time at school restricted the amount of time they could spend together during her shore leave. She loved her career, but she desired more time with her son. Despite her frequent absence, however, mother and son shared a close bond. In many ways Alan was closer to her than his father, and certainly had inherited more of her traits of leadership and a thirst for adventure. From a young age he had daydreamed of accompanying his mother on her adventures into the frontiers of space, and had decided that in his senior year he would be applying to the Systems Alliance Academy for his continuing education. It was a choice that his parents applauded.

They strode through the corridors that led to the rec center, a place frequented by many of the station's inhabitants. This complex was much more than a gymnasium and weight room. It was the place on the station for inhabitants to unwind and relax. It boasted a climbing wall, bowling alley, movie theater, opera house, firing range, swimming pool, and fitness center. But the bit that Alan was interested in was the simulators. These were not video games, but fully functioning interceptor cockpits on hydraulic actuators, which allowed their novice pilots to feel as though they were actually in the midst of a battle. They were also a very successful recruiting tool for the Navy. Three hundred and sixty degree screens allowed the pilot to completely immerse themselves in the simulated mission. Six cockpits allowed their pilots to pit their skills against their adversaries, every man for himself. Once a victor was apparent, six new prospects would clamber into the open seats, ready to take on the next of a series of simulated combat scenarios. The wait was almost always longer than half an hour.

Mother and son stood in the queue chatting and catching up. Eventually they found themselves near the front of the line, watching the six simulator cockpits pitch and roll as their pilots threw themselves at the controls.

Alan surveyed his competition. His mother would be the obvious challenge, but he had spent enough time in these simulators over the past few days that he was confident that he could beat her. Also in line were two off-shift maintenance crew members, a kid barely keeping himself up on a pair of crutches, and a pudgy kid with greasy hair.

Piece of cake, Alan thought to himself as his round began. He clambered into the cockpit and strapped himself into the chair. The screen in front of him showed a solitary space station floating among specks of stars. The simulator's speakers counted down the seconds to the start of combat.

The timer reached zero and he gunned the throttle, jerked in his seat by the motion of the simulator. He looked at his instruments and found the five heat signatures that identified his adversaries. His interceptor came equipped with four torpedoes and an upgraded GAURDIAN laser system that was currently being installed on Navy ships. He pointed his ship at the spacecraft closest to him and started targeting.

Already a ship was gone, perhaps the earliest he'd ever seen a ship go down. Pondering which of his adversaries had fallen first, he let loose his first torpedo. He watched as it surged forward on the screen, its blue-white antiproton drive dwindling on the screen. He turned away from the missile as it tracked towards its target. As he searched for his next victim, he tracked its progress on his instruments. He smiled as his instruments signaled destruction of his target. His craft rocked as he rolled it around to bring it to bear on another foe.

Again he locked onto his target and let loose a torpedo, but before it impacted, the target disappeared, a brilliant flash of and imploding eezo drive on his screen told him it had been destroyed. He grimaced at the waste of his munitions, and began scanning his LADAR readouts for his next quarry.

He was interrupted by an emergency tone coming from his cockpit's speakers. Closing fast was a torpedo, homing in on his heat signature. He jerked the stick back and to the right, throwing his fighter away from the threat, hoping to shake the rapidly moving missile from his tail. The aft laser turret of his ship began to fire, its invisible pulses of powerful energy cutting through the vacuum of space in an effort to counter the threat bearing down on him. More and more frantically he turned his ship, trying to evade the torpedo behind him, and his lasers finally found the torpedo, cutting through its cylindrical form and rendering it to scrap.

In the meantime two more interceptors were no more, leaving him against the remaining ship. Alright mom, time to dance, he growled to himself, beads of sweat starting to run from his brow. He glanced at his scanners again, picking up his remaining opponent. The ship was screaming towards him from his starboard side, and he pitched down and left, trying to evade his pursuer. It was now a game of cat and mouse. He weaved back and forth, staying clear of the simulated space stations supports, waiting for the tone that warned him of a torpedo that was coming his way. None came. Only then did he realize that his foe must have already released his four torpedoes. He grinned devilishly, knowing he'd all but won the simulated knife fight encounter. His enemy would only be able to engage him with his lasers, while he still possessed two very deadly torpedoes. It was nearly impossible for him to lose.

Time to go on the offensive. He pulled the stick quickly, making a sharp turn to throw off the craft tailing him. To his pleasure, the other pilot barely reacted, and Alan was able to easily slip his interceptor behind his opponent, releasing a second torpedo as he did so.

But no sooner was the torpedo away did his prey pull a turn that he thought would shear the craft in two. The interceptor turned one hundred and eighty degrees, torpedo on its tail, and in an instant was hurtling straight back at his own craft. He turned out of the way as his adversary flew by, peppering Alan's ship with laser fire which set off damage warnings in his cockpit. As his torpedo screamed past, hot on the tail of his foe, laser fire ripped through it as well. Stunned by his mother's piloting skills, he released his final torpedo, confident that it would be the killshot.

His quarry made a beeline for the virtual space station, and began weaving through its many towers and communications arrays. The missile followed through the maze, but struck a tower on the station, exploding harmlessly against the space station's outer shell. It was now lasers versus lasers, and Alan had to admit, the skill exhibited by his mother would be difficult to match.

But Alan fell again in behind his quarry, sweating in earnest now in his attempt to stay on the tail of the interceptor in front of him. His targeting system would let out a peal of sound and he would squeeze laser's trigger. Yet every time his opposing pilot would veer his craft out of the line of fire and it was all Alan could do to keep up. After several opportunities, Alan began to realize that this pilot was not his mother. This pilot was teasing him, leading him on, willing him to squeeze the trigger just to see him fail again. Try as he might, he could not lay a hit on this pilot.

Alan was incredibly competitive, almost to a fault, a trait exacerbated by success in athletics and academics. It perturbed him to see someone more talented. So he threw himself at the controls of his craft, gritting his teeth and breathing hard, trying to sink a laser burst into the hull of his foe. He didn't succeed. Before long his foe's fighter was behind his own, and as he pulled and pushed at the controls with all his might, he couldn't shake he ship behind him, which followed him as easily if they'd been going for a casual joy ride. It was a matter of seconds before his dash lit up with damage reports, and the simulation ended as his craft was ripped to pieces by laser fire.

For a moment, he sat, stunned, as the cockpit opened flooding with light from the outside. He had lost even with the advantage of having two extra torpedoes. His ego was crushed, his morale dwindling as he looked at the sortie summary. The pilot that killed him had killed three other ships, each with a torpedo. His fourth torpedo was the one Alan had destroyed, but in the end it didn't even matter. He racked his brain to figure out which of his opponents had won the simulation.

From one of the other simulators came a voice that cracked and wavered in its pubescent shout.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you very much. Please no pictures, no autographs, I'll be in town all weekend."

Rising from his cockpit was the skinny kid on crutches, his voice cracking as he bowed low, grinning from ear to ear. The braces on his legs clinked softly as he awkwardly clambered down from the cockpit.

Hannah Shepard came up behind her son. "He is good. Really good. Got me within the first five minutes," she said, eyeing the boy as he gimped away, still tipping his cap and grinning at everyone he walked past, "mark my words he's going to be something special someday,"

Alan grunted a halfhearted affirmation. He hated to lose to anyone, nevermind some cocky-ass cripple. Hobbling away, the skinny pilot prodigy glanced over his shoulder and gave him an exaggerated wink. Alan gritted his teeth and shot back a glare that could have rivaled his mother's.