Normandy

2183 – Arcturus System/Arcturus Station/SSV Normandy

There are only around 180 N7s in Systems Alliance—that is all branches included—out of a total of 140 million personnel. An N7 is most elite operative in Alliance military, and as such are often stationed in units where special operations are common place, diplomatic missions for high-profile situations, cover operations where deniability is necessitated, and so on. It is for this reason N7's are either clustered together in units such as the 103rd, or they work on small teams, if not alone, to accomplish their missions. Of the 140 million personnel, only 12,500 carried an N 1-6 beside their rank, so the prestige of even having an N-class was distinguishing in and of itself. This translates to 0.01% of N's are N7….and 0.00008% of Systems Alliance military have an N-class.

In dress blues, all of a person's military achievements are put on display, but in duty uniforms and armor no one is meant to stand out—except for an N7. The Alliance allows only N7's to wear customized uniforms and apparel with the red and black stripe or 'N7' logo emblazoned upon them. Such a discernment is to let anyone who should see this warrior know that they are in the presence of an anomaly of battlefield performance, strategically calculated, with unparalleled strength.

These are some of the descriptors and platitudes that were expressed from Commandant of Systems Alliance Navy—I'm pretty sure that it was the same letter sent to all N7's, they just filled in the blanks for my name and rank.

So, that was it, I had attained my goal of becoming an N7. A mission that I set out on after Akuze, and without much thought for what came after it. Being an N7, accomplishing missions, moving up the chain of command, needs of the Alliance if you will, was as far as I had planned ahead on that particular aspect of my career. Don't get me wrong, I was gung-ho and feeling sharp as a knife with N7 on my chest—especially since the decal and any special items were an acquisition that came directly from the academy at Villa Militar.

I guess the point I'm making is that this marked another major transition period in my life. I didn't know what awaited me with this new classing, and I didn't have to make up my mind immediately either—the Alliance was going to do that for me, for at least another year when it came time to renew my contract.

I returned to the SSV Tokyo with no small amount of admiration from the ship's crew. There were now two N7's aboard the ship—which as I mentioned, is not an entirely uncommon occurrence in the 103rd. Captain Grovenski did not wait for me to settle in before assigning me to the next ground mission. It was a standard hostage situation, where infiltration and tactics were paramount to mission success. Stealth had never been my strong suit, but over the years, I had learned many techniques with my biotics that assisted where my sneak skills were insufficient—as you can imagine, stasis became my life saver in many situations.

One of the most obvious changes of being N7 on the battlefield was that subordinates did not seem to question my judgment—even if I was clearly storming into a situation where a delicate hand was necessary, my team followed my lead without hesitation. I had never really had a problem instilling confidence in my leadership, usually after a few missions they fell in line. This was different, especially with such brief contact with my troops. I suppose it could have been that my tactical finesse had developed over the years, but I'm still not convinced that people weren't simply deferring to my classification rather than my skills.

I had been aboard the Tokyo for about three months when Fifth Fleet sent out their orders on the permanent assignment for the position I was filling. To my surprise, they decided upon another candidate, and I was ordered back to Fifth Fleet HQ at Arcturus Station to receive my next instructions and duty station. While I was somewhat disappointed, I was more anxious about the Alliance taking me out of the 103rd and moving me to a new command that I wasn't familiar with—like I said, a lot of changes happened in the year after getting my N7.

The Tokyo provided me with transportation to Arcturus, where after reporting for duty at HQ, I was greeted by Captain David Anderson.

"Commander Shepard. Welcome back to Arcturus." He said, reaching out to shake my hand.

I returned the gesture and firmly grasped the man's hand "Glad to be back, Sir."

He released my hand and began walking down the passageway behind a set of offices that led to an opening into a large conference room. "Follow me. We knew about your arrival and wanted to meet with you in person." He explained as he walked briskly toward our destination.

I wasn't sure why the brass wanted to meet with me. In fact, last I heard Anderson was working with the Citadel, so I automatically assumed the worst and began running over my last missions, considering whether or not I had caused an interspecies situation, and why I was about to get the biggest ass chewing conceivable. "Understood, Sir."

He didn't respond, he just continued moving forward, while my mind raced, contemplating the all possible scenarios.

Standing beside the oval-shaped table in the center of the room were Admiral Hackett, a pensive-looking Alliance diplomat, and the Navy Commandant, and a second Navy Captain that I was unfamiliar with—almost the same brass that were present for my Star of Terra ceremony. Then I began to consider the opposite situation, 'Am I being decorated for something?'

Admiral Hackett walked over to greet me with a warm smile and a handshake "Shepard, welcome aboard. Congratulations on your N7. I had faith that you would pull it off, and on your first attempt, no less."

"Thank you for your confidence, Sir." I replied, and looked over his shoulder with a questioning glance.

He sensed my trepidation and got straight to the point, "I guess you're wondering why we're all here, since you know we have other jobs to do."

I stiffened my back and nodded once, "Now that you mention it. Yes, Sir. It must be something big to draw out this much brass."

The diplomat who had been watching me with suspicious contempt spoke up at my response, "Commander Shepard, I am Donnel Udina, Citadel Ambassador to humanity. Your assumption is correct. We have requested your presence here to inform you of your selection to be evaluated for Citadel Special Tactics and Reconnaissance."

My eyebrow arched, and I wasn't entirely sure that I was hearing him accurately. Hackett continued where Udina left off, "That's right Shepard. You were selected to be evaluated for the Spectres. We reviewed several for the position, but you stood out above the rest. We found you to be the embodiment of human exceptionalism, so we moved forward to place you into the Citadel Council's selection pool, where you made the cut."

"I see. I…I don't know what to say, Sir. This is unexpected." I sighed, overwhelmed at the information being presented to me.

Anderson spoke up from beside me, "We thought this would be a lot to take in. That is why we wanted to meet with you personally, to answer any questions you may have and provide you with as much information as possible."

"Thank you, Sir's." I offered, easing my rigid posture some, "So, does this mean I am reporting to the Citadel?"

The Captain standing beside the Commandant opened his omni-tool and projected an image on the wall behind him, and the Commandant spoke up, "No Commander. You are hereby assigned to the position of Executive Officer to the Alliance Navy's newest and most high-tech stealth ship. Your orders are classified and a copy will be made available to you at your private terminal."

The image showed a sleek but high-profile frigate, and the Captain explained "The SSV Normandy SR-1 was a joint human-turian operation. We poured the best of our technology into this ship, and the turians gave us their best capabilities in return. You'll find its layout is unlike human ships, but we expect the Normandy will be used on joint operations frequently enough that it should be a benefit rather than a hindrance."

"Thank you Captain Dillard. The Normandy's Commanding Officer is Captain Anderson. We believe that your duties as an N7 and as a Spectre candidate will translate seamlessly for the assignments the Normandy will be called upon. Not only that, but your service record deserves commendations, and the Normandy will be an exceptional duty assignment." The Commandant offered, while the others watched for my reactions.

"Understood Sir. I am looking forward to the opportunity you have presented me with." I admitted, holding back the thoughts and emotions that were racing through my mind. I wasn't prepared for any of this, only three months ago I received my N7, and now I was looking at being considered for the Spectres.

I didn't know much about the Spectre Corps, only that they were covert operatives with complete immunity from repercussions in the course of their duties. Honestly, until this moment, the Spectres hadn't even been on my radar as a direction that my career could take—there was never any talk about human Spectres, and so there was no point in holding our breath in the Marines for a pipe dream like that.

I guessed pushing for a human Spectre was a topic of conversation in the higher echelons of Alliance politics, as evidenced by the Citadel Council even approving my candidacy—this suspicion was confirmed when the Ambassador added his last two cents. "Commander, your movements are being closely observed on a galactic stage from this moment on. Try to use more couth with your observations of brass in the future, and show the proper courtesies. Your actions will reflect on humanity as a whole, and we may not have another shot at getting a Spectre for decades if you mess this up." Udina spat.

I hate politicians—especially Donnel Udina, but this was the moment I realized that I was the star in another puppet show, with all of the bells and whistles that came with the Star of Terra, but on a grander scale. For the record, I understand that my perception of this may be a bit skewed—I acknowledge that I had beaten some incredible odds in the course of my arrival to this moment—however, I was also being used as a political tool…I suppose it comes with the territory, but I that didn't mean I had to like it.

"The Commander is a pillar of excellence, Ambassador. Shepard will achieve any task she is given, she's proven herself over and over again." Anderson injected, throwing his support behind me, presumably observing the twitch in my eye and knowing the words that followed would not be received well by the Ambassador.

He looked me up and down then nodded to Anderson, "She's yours now, Captain. See to it that you're right about this, or we all may regret it." He pulled up his omni-tool and input some commands "I'm sure you all can handle any questions the Commander may have. I must take my leave now and return to the Citadel. I have a lot of business to attend to in preparation of your selection. Don't let us down, Commander."

With Udina's departure, the Commandant and Captain Dillard followed behind. Hackett stayed only long enough to provide me encouragement for my next assignment and then he was on his way.

Captain Anderson led me to the docking bay where the Normandy was located. We walked up the docking ramp and into the decontamination chamber, where the decon rays beamed across our skin, Decontamination in Progress, said the synthetic voice of the ship's computer. When the hatch to the interior of the ship opened, Logged. The Commanding Officer is Aboard. The computer spoke once more.

"Here she is Commander. She hasn't even been on her shakedown run, and you're her first XO." Anderson beamed, the pride of his new ship evident upon his face.

The ship was certainly laid out different than any frigate I had been on. Most notably was the CIC at the rear of the bridge, which was the most obvious of the turian influence. The deck was not fully manned, presumably because most of the ship's crew was aboard the Arcturus for their rotation on leave. All of the computers and holographic interfaces were state of the art—unlike most of the Alliance ships I had served aboard up to now, which were making due with antiquated equipment, and did not have any of this level of sophistication. 'The Alliance must have been flexing their spending muscle to put on a show for the Turian Hierarchy' I decided.

"It's amazing, Captain. How did the Alliance pull this off?" I asked, testing the waters with how open he was willing to be with me.

"It wasn't easy. Humanity's brightest worked on this ship, and nothing but the best have been assigned to her crew." He answered, pushing forward to show me through the ship.

The Normandy was an incredible ship, especially the mass effect core and her stealth drive. I got the impression from Captain Anderson that there was some dissention among the crew for the sharing of this technology with the turians, but it didn't seem to faze him any, he must have known something the rest of us didn't.

Afterward, he showed me to my quarters, and sent for a serviceman to bring my gear aboard the ship, while I continued acquainting myself. Before he departed, he informed that we depart for our shakedown run at 1200 hours tomorrow, and gave me instructions to acquaint myself with the ship's specifications, and crew manifest, and shakedown objectives in the meantime. It was only 1430 hours Galactic Standard Time, so that gave me plenty of opportunity to familiarize myself with my new duties.

The next day I would wake up ready to fulfill my new role, and whatever came with it. I had no way of predicting how everything about my life would take a change in the days and weeks that followed, but in that moment, I was prepared to pour every ounce of my being into whatever life threw at me, if nothing more than for thrill and excitement of this new kickass adventure.