Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Normandy. It's four year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and civilizations, to go boldly, where no man, woman, or monogendered alien has gone before...
Having overcome the vicious space dust virus, the unflappable crew of the SSV Normandy is eager and ready to meet their next challenge, scale their next obstacle, fight their next battle.
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Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Captain's cabin, 0445
"Good morning, commander." EDI said, voice devoid of expression, "It is now 0445, and this is your morning wake up call."
Shepard moaned into her pillow, feeling as if her head had been packed with broken glass.
"Commander, it is likely that you are experiencing after effects of the virus. Do your symptoms match that of a traditional hangover?"
"Go away EDI, I've got a space hangover," Shepard murmured. "I deserve to sleep in."
"Very well commander. Engaging snooze protocol."
/
/
Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Captain's cabin, 0500
"Commander, as per your instructions, I have given you an additional 838 seconds of sleep. It is now 0500.
"Ohwhafuckisgoingonnow!" Shepard groaned, rolling over.
"It is now 0500, commander."
Shepard pulled her head out from under the blankets, looking as if she was about to cry.
"Engaging snooze protocol." EDI said, her voice determinedly neutral.
/
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Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Captain's cabin, 0515
"Good morning commander. 843 seconds have passed since our last interaction. It is now 0515."
Shepard jerked awake, a groan of pure misery coming from her throat, trying to snuggle back into the warmth behind her. Then she remembered the events of the previous day, involving a certain strangely dressed weirdo who paid a visit to her quarters.
"EDI." she said, sitting up a little, "What happened last night?
"After receiving the antidote to the virus, you proceeded to the elevator, having stolen a sample of the infectious dust. Jeff and I engaged in a humorous prank. After this, you entered your quarters, placed the vial of dust in the bottom of your sock drawer, next to your copy of Fornax magazine, and several devices of a personal, recreational nature. After this, you ate four slices of cheesecake, and proceeded to watch Game of Thrones for six hours, twenty seven minutes, and forty two seconds, rewinding several times to re-watch a scene containing John Snow. After this, you went to your sock drawer, and-"
"Okay, okay," Shepard interrupted. "Was anyone else in my quarters last night?"
"No commander."
Shepard sighed in relief. So it had all been a hallucination. No mysterious beings, no disruption of the fabric of space and time. Just a drunken night spent to herself, eating cheesecake and watching old TV shows, fantasizing about divesting John Snow of his innocence. Speaking of which.
"EDI, delete all surveillance files from my quarters yesterday, and this morning."
"Yes commander. Will that be all?"
"Yes, thank you EDI," Shepard said, trying to remember where she kept her aspirin. "I'll be down to the morning briefing at 0630."
She closed her eyes, wondering if she dared go back to sleep until the briefing. No, better not. She'd never live that one down. She rolled over, intending to climb out of the other side of the bed.
Q was laying on his back next to her, wearing a red sweater, different, but not entirely unlike those worn by the tactical crew, hands behind his head, grinning like an idiot.
"Was it good for you too?" He asked, his voice chipper and bright.
"Oh, what the fuck?" Shepard groaned, freezing in horror. "Wait, last night, did we-" she trailed off, "no, we didn't. I know, because if we did, I would have jumped out an airlock afterward."
Q sighed, exaggerating the gesture. "No one can resist my charm, Shepard. And for your information, I was a perfect gentleman, doctoring that security footage for you, so that no one would be able to insult the integrity of the beautiful Lady Shepard."
"Q?"
"Yes, my lady fair?"
"Please shut up." Shepard said, climbing over him and heading toward the bathroom.
"You know," Q called after her as she walked away, "if I were a lesser man, I would be falling for you already."
/
Deep Space Exploration Mission, day 3, Captain's Cabin, 0553
Shepard emerged from the bathroom, uniform on, still unable to walk by the mirror without cringing at the truly unfortunate shade of gold that the Alliance had picked. She was moderately disappointed to find Q still laying on her bed.
"Q," She said, sitting down at her coffee table. "I think we should talk."
He leaped up off the bed, beaming with mock happiness. "I knew it, you're going to ask me to marry you."
He snapped his fingers, his clothes replaced by a freshly pressed, white tuxedo, a massive red rose emerging from the pocket.
"Why are you here?" Shepard asked, ignoring him.
"Ah, now we get to the important question." Q said, plopping down next to her, leaning over to put an arm around her, which she quickly dodged, "I think that would be a question better covered in the morning briefing, don't you think?"
"What do you want?" Shepard persisted.
"I'm bored." Q muttered. "I've thrown stars into black holes, witnessed a binary supernova, defied the laws of space and time, protected civilizations from grave and terrible threats. Quite frankly, it's gotten a bit dull lately."
Shepard hesitated, looking him in the eyes. "You know, I think that's the first straight answer you've given me."
"I am known to have my brief moments of sincerity." Q said, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I've found they serve the purpose of contrasting moments like this."
Shepard yelped in surprise as Q snapped his fingers, calling a 20 man marching band into existence, trumpets and saxophones blaring.
"I can tell already," Shepard muttered, putting her head in her hands as the band proceeded to do a lap of her quarters, "it's going to be one of those days."
/
/
Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, Conference Room, Morning Briefing, 0630
Shepard sat at the head of the smooth gray table, alone in the silent room, glancing at the smooth, blue, warp corona outside, practically bouncing with excitement as the crew filed in.
"Okay, everybody shut up." Shepard said, once everyone had sat down. "I don't even care about your briefings. Last night, I made contact with a strange new life form."
Dead silence filled the room, the other senior leaders glancing around at each other. Shepard decided to interpret their reaction as excitement, and gave them a few moments to process the importance of her discovery.
"Uh, is that some sort of weird sex thing?" Garrus asked finally.
"What, no!" Shepard exclaimed. "I met this guy, his name is Q, and he's some sort of space... person."
She received only a fresh bout of silence, and a number of concerned stares.
"You guys don't get it," she sighed, clearing her throat. "Q, come on in, summon a marching band out of thin air, turn the table into a banana, tell them how you want to marry me."
Nothing happened, except the concerned stares were now laced with pity.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Shepard whispered to herself. "Damn it Q, this isn't funny. You're making me look like an idiot here."
"I've seen a number of deep space related psychological breakdowns," Chakwas whispered to Tali, "But I've never seen it happen this soon into a mission."
"Q, please show up?" Shepard whimpered, wishing she could just sink into the carpet and die of shame.
"Shepard," Liara started. "You've been through so much, with what happened on Akuze, and the Reaper war, and now this mission. It's perfectly understandable that you would have some-"
"Look, I know how it looks guys," Shepard interrupted, all the blood rushing to her face. "I'm not crazy. I thought I hallucinated him at first, but then he was in bed with me this morning, and..."
"Hey, I have weird sex fantasies about aliens all the time." Grunt offered, Garrus and Tali edging their seats away from him. "It's normal."
"No, I didn't have sex with Q, cause he's an asshole, and he put mittens on me, and turned my pistol into a banana," Shepard saw the looks she was getting, and she covered her face, her eyes burning, lower lip trembling. You will not cry in front of the command staff, she told herself, you will not cry in front of the-
"EDI," Tali said, "Is there any record of someone being in Shepard's quarters last night, or this morning?"
"Negative," EDI stated. "All surveillance records from the commander's quarters have been deleted, per her request."
They all turned to stare at Shepard, who was sitting in her chair, curled up in a tight, quivering ball of rage and humiliation.
"Shepard," Tali asked, a gentle touch in her voice. "Would you like to go down to the med-bay, maybe have some hot chocolate?"
"Yeah, I think I'd like that." Shepard said in a very small voice.
/
/
Deep Space Exploration Mission. Day 3, Med-Bay, 0647
"Now don't worry, Shepard." Chakwas said, gently draping a blanket over her hunched shoulders and handing her a mug of hot chocolate. "Garrus is going to handle all of the important stuff until you're feeling better."
Shepard gripped the mug, wiping a stray tear from her eye when Chakwas turned her back. Had she imagined Q, not once but twice? Was she losing her mind? Would they have to turn around, three days into a four year mission? Could she bear the shame of returning to the Citadel, four years early, disgraced, broken, humiliated in front of the entire galaxy?
"Commander, no smoking in the Med-Bay." Chakwas interjected, a reproachful tone in her voice.
Shepard blinked, noticing the thick, brown, fragrant cigar that was clenched between her teeth.
She flung the mug of hot chocolate indifferently across the bay, pulling the cigar from her mouth and holding it up triumphantly.
"Fuck yeah donkey!" She shouted, doing a victory dance, waving the cigar like a baton. "Guess who's not crazy!"
Tali chose this moment to enter the bay, just in time to see Shepard throw her mug of hot chocolate at the wall and start dancing, waving a cigar around wildly.
"Ancestors," she breathed, "it's worse than I thought."
Shepard looked up at the two of them, her grin fading, replaced by a dawning horror.
"Okay, I know how this looks." she started, "but last night, Q did the same thing with the cigar, and..." She trailed off, losing her voice under the weight of the pity filled stares. "This is the worst day of my life."
All three of them jumped, when Q appeared in a flash of white, accompanied by an extremely fat Asian man blowing a tuba.
"I'm sorry," Q gasped, collapsing to the floor laughing, "that was just too funny to pass up. The looks they gave you when you told them about the mittens." He clutched at his stomach, heaving with mirth.
"Q!" Shepard shouted, "You little fucking asshole! That shit was not funny!"
Chakwas sat down in her desk chair, reaching for the bottom drawer, withdrawing a fresh bottle of Serrice Ice brandy.
"I should have retired when I had the chance." she muttered, pouring a glass.
/
/
Deep Space Exploration Mission, Day 3, conference room, 0715
"So," Shepard said, en edge in her voice, "after much heartache and confusion, this is Q." She gestured to Q, who was once again wearing his red sweater.
The command staff stared blankly at Q, who cleared his throat and stepped forward.
"Good morning, it is a great honor for primitive savages such as you to find yourselves in my presence."
"Eat shit, you little Pyjak." Grunt rumbled, his swivel chair nearly collapsing under four hundred pounds of Krogan warrior.
"My, my." Q said, turning his attention to the massive Krogan, "You're even bigger than my old friend Worf! Growl for me, show me that you still care."
Grunt narrowed his eyes. "Uh, I'm flattered, but I'm actually kinda into females."
"So I ask, already knowing the answer," Q continued, "what is the purpose of this mission?"
"We are on a four year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new-" EDI started.
"Go in deep space, find stuff." Shepard finished. "Get to the point Q."
"You people are so arrogant." Q muttered, "Always throwing your noses where they don't belong. You have no idea what's waiting out there."
"Uh, yeah," Garrus said, "that's why we're doing this mission, to find out that sort of thing."
"You defeat the Reapers, you cobble together a crude warp drive, and now you think you can deal with the worst the universe has to offer." Q whispered, his voice low. "But there is another enemy out there, one that dwarfs anything you have encountered yet. Do you, in your foolish arrogance, think you are ready for them?"
"Hell no," Shepard interrupted. "We're still recovering from the Reaper invasion. We're out here to look at comets and shit, maybe find a planet full of scantily clad green people and make fools of ourselves. Starting fights is not on out priority list."
Q sighed. "You'd be surprised how many people accept that challenge. But, you're going to meet them anyway, because there's a betting pool going around the Continuum as to how this little encounter is going to play out. For reference, I bet on the Normandy, so try not to disappoint."
He snapped his fingers, vanishing in a flash of white, the ship pitching wildly beneath their feet, Shepard grabbing the table for support.
The turbulence leveled out, and a glance out the window confirmed a lack of warp field. The ship was not moving.
"Joker to all crew," the panicked voice sounded from the speakers overhead. "The ship has moved, a lot. The star charts don't line up with anything I've seen, I have no IFF tags on the screen, and no Mass Relays."
Shepard stepped to the intercom, slamming her fist on the transmit button. "This is commander Shepard, yellow alert, I say again, yellow alert, all hands to stations."
Shepard raced out of the conference room, hot on the heels of the rest of the command team, tearing past the startled door guards, Westermore biting back a surprised curse.
The crew was rushing to stations in a flurry of activity as Shepard sprinted up the CIC corridor and skidded to a halt behind Joker's chair.
"What's up, where the hell are we?" She panted. A new set of stars twinkled outside the cockpit window, a green nebula in the distance, a dull gray planet and it's moon about 100,000 kilometers away by rough estimate.
"I have no idea, we just dropped out of warp, and nothing makes sense." Joker yelled, hands flickering over the controls, EDI taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair.
"All stations report ready, commander." Garrus informed her over the comms.
"Roger that, await further instruction." Shepard said, cursing Q for his games. "Hopefully Q shows back up with some directions. In the meantime, take us over to that planet. We may as well explore some strange new worlds while we're out here."
The thrusters fired, the low rumble comforting, the sense of purpose soothing.
"Sensors array to bridge," Liara shouted. "We have an incoming vessel, intercept course, ETA, one minute."
"Joker, bring us around, let's get a better look." Shepard barked.
The stars spun out the window, as Joker whirled the ship in a tight arc, bringing them to face the incoming ship.
It was massive, visible even at this distance, a postage stamp sized gray blur, getting bigger every second, accelerating through the void with a horrifying ease.
"Shepard to all crew," she ordered into the internal comms. "red alert, I say again, red alert, all personnel report to battle-stations, raise shields and rotate CBT frequency to high, charge the main battery and all GARDIAN arrays, load javelin torpedoes and maximum yield thanix missiles."
The rough gray cube, nearly four kilometers per side, came into clearer view, featureless, save for the jagged, symmetrical structural beams that covered it's surface. It had no visible weapons, means of propulsion, bridge, or anything of note. It simply advanced on the Normandy, a hideous mass of dark metal, invoking a deep dread in Shepard, similar to seeing a Reaper capital ship up close.
It slowed and halted, about ten kilometers away from the Normandy, taking up the whole window, hanging silently in front of them, like a lion, standing over a mouse.
"EDI," Shepard said, her voice mostly steady. "Open a hailing frequency."
Then, a voice filled the ship. It was one voice, but had the feel of many voices, millions of beings speaking in perfect unison.
"WE ARE THE BORG. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND PREPARE YOUR SHIP FOR ASSIMILATION. YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR OWN."
"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE."