SSV Normandy: Calm Before the Storm
The next day, the familiar alarm Hal had grown used to in Boot Camp sounded throughout the Normandy, echoing in his ears. He groaned, having gotten almost no sleep at all as he noticed the severe lack of engine noise, something that soothed him to sleep while he served on the SSV Caroline during his mission to Akuze. In the bunk below him came the anguished swearing of his sister, who had an even worse night.
"Rise and shine, dumbass." She moaned, punching the bottom of Hal's mattress. He slid off the bed, opening his footlocker and searching for their armours. Onyx IV's, both proudly displaying a glistening N7 logo on the chest. As they pulled said protective clothing on, they headed out to the mess hall to collect their canned breakfasts. The hall was dimly lit, much like the rest of the Normandy at the time, yet packed and loud with most of her crew. Joker and Anderson were nowhere to be seen. Rumours and murmurs of a turian spectre floated through the air alongside the dark fragrance of the coffee that was being brewed onsite by Mess Sergeant Phelps. Kaidan was already sitting in a chair facing Dr Chakwas and Corporal Jenkins. "Ah, Commanders Shepard. Or is it Commander Shepards?" she asked, shaking their hands.
"I'm not a commander. It's "Staff Sergeant Shepard" for now." Faith sighed, taking a mug of a dark brown, murky liquid and her issued meal, 'eggs' and 'bacon'. Chakwas nodded. "At least you can enjoy the alliteration!" she smiled, making a tiny smirk appear at the corner of Faith's mouth.
Hal retrieved his meal and sat down, relaxing in his chair. Over the loudspeaker, a news broadcast from the Alliance News Network was just finishing. "But these reported geth sightings could be either a dangerous fact or a malicious rumour intended to spread fear around the galaxy. I've been Diana Allers, signing off." The radio silenced, cutting to a split-second of dead air before standard broadcasting returned.
"It can be whatever you want it to be, doc." Hal smiled, looking at Jenkins. He was shaking in both fear and admiration, staring wide-eyed at them. "Wow… the Butcher of Torfan an-" he began to speak, being cut off when Faith's hand suddenly came to his throat. She squeezed her hand, making him choke as she did. Chakwas pulled her chair out cautiously, keeping her distance from
"That is NOT my name." she glared at the young soldier as the hall suddenly fell silent. Kaidan let out a nervous laugh, pleading mentally to Hal to defuse the tense situation. Faith stood up, taking a swig of her coffee and leaving her plate on the table, leaving the room angrily. Hal sighed, poking the rubbery egg and bacon in front of him absent-mindedly with his fork.
Jenkins looked like he was about to start crying. "Wow… I've been shot at before and I've never been that scared." He whispered.
"Careful there, Corporal. You look like you've just crapped yourself." Kaidan rolled his eyes, wiping his forehead free of a bead of sweat. "Not to break protocol, Commander, but is she always like that?" he asked.
"Sometimes she is, yeah. But you'll get used to it." Hal smiled. "Strange lack of Captain Anderson." He noted. Chakwas looked up from her meal, swallowing her food before speaking. "He's been talking to that turian spectre, Nihlus Kryik. Odd name, and some of the crew, namely Pressly, is nervous about him. It's probably just so he can watch how the Normandy performs." She finished. Jenkins immediately perked up again.
"Wow, a spectre? Why would they send a turian spectre on a shakedown run?" he asked.
"Did you not pay attention to a word I said?" Chakwas answered his question with a question, dumbfounded.
"Sorry, doc, no I didn't." he looked down at his food, pushing the plate away. "I'm not hungry. You want some bacon, Commander Sir?" he smiled happily at Hal, who took the meat from him, remembering the ancient videos on the extranet of the men who crafted masterpieces from bacon. "Why's your sister like that?" Kaidan asked. "Come on, Alenko. Don't pretend you don't know. She sent most of her squad to their deaths. Don't mention it to her." Hal nodded to each of them around the table before leaving to find her. If what Chakwas said was true, then they had nothing to worry about. But even Hal had his doubts as to the mission. Surely they could've sent a general or someone else to oversee their first mission, not a spectre. Shepard knew nothing about the world they were going to, having only been briefly spoken to about it. But what he did know was that there was something wrong, and Nihlus was at the centre of it.
Faith sat in the hangar, resting against the wheels of the M35 Mako sitting quietly there. The lift shuddered and came to a halt to her left, and from it emerged her brother. She rolled her eyes and looked back at the datapad she was reading.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine. Don't bother pursuing it, because I'm not in the damn mood." she sighed heavily, looking towards the floor. She scratched at a freckle on her arm, pulling her sleeves back and noticing several scars. One from a batarian slave dealer, one from slashing her arm open during a training exercise and the other from an Omni-blade that sliced through her armour on Torfan. She smiled, remembering the vengeance she'd wreaked upon the slaver after he cut her.
"You'll die for that, you bitch!" he'd shouted, rushing towards her with his blade raised above his head, but she was too fast, grabbing the nearest guard's Predator and firing at him, wounding his hip and blinding one of his eyes. The batarian fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
"This place will become your tomb, Balak." She glared at him, picking up her rifle and leaving the camp.
"Faith." Hal's voice brought her back from her memories. "Anderson wants to see us." He held out his hand, lifting her to her feet.
"Can't wait." She smirked, leading him to the lift. They stood, awkwardly, as it ascended.
"Really slow." Hal mused. And yes, the elevator took what seemed like an eternity to arrive at their destination.
"Yeah." Faith sighed. "Real slow."
