Hale: Reunion
DISCLAIMER: Bioware owns Mass Effect. I take no credit or part in such except for this story. Inspiration of this story goes to theorangeguy's 'Saren's Effect'. Jennifer Hale is a real life person. Same goes for Mark Meer. These are merely fictional representations, and do not reflect the actual opinions and personalities of said persons.
Chapter 36: Hale, Reunion
Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, April 6, 2183 1027 Arcturus
"Royce! Val!" Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale shouted out as she immediately picked out two of the five people that that debarked the shuttle that had made port on Arcturus Station only a few moments ago. She had been standing there at the incoming docks waiting for the deconn cycle to finish before her best friends exited the craft. Seeing the Melbourne Marauder and the Texas Organ-Splitter never failed to put a smile on her face.
"Shit, Royce. The little hellion went and got promoted on us." Senior Chief Petty Officer Stacy Valentino (N7) drawled out with her thick Texas accent, an ever-present plastic bottle in her hand for the use of a portable spitoon. The bottle, clear and once housing water, was now partially filled with brownish spittle and dip juices as the Texan put her mouth to the opening and with unladylike grace, tongued out her dip and pushed it through the plastic orifice with her lips and tongue, spitting out the rest of the tobacco residue. "I just might haft ta salute her, now."
"Toss that, blimin' shelia's an N, not some Academy bloke with some stick buggerin' up her arse." Commander Royce Mason (N7) pointed out as he crossed his muscular arms over his muscular chest as they both stopped to look at the Lieutenant Colonel, scrutinizing her. Val squinted and twisted up her features, the older blonde woman's demeanor one of pure grit as she inspected Hale, while Royce simply towered over her, looking down on her expressionless.
"Oh, look! The Sailors are miffed because they see what a real warrior looks like!" Hale exclaimed as her hands went to her hips and she shook her head sadly, giving off a faux-tortured sigh. "Don't I hear the Bosum's Mate calling for someone to go polish a head?"
"That joke hasn't gotten any better, kiddo." Val's face scrunched up, becoming dark and ugly.
"You haven't gotten any younger either, Mama Bear." Hale quipped as the Senior Chief's face broke open into a grin and the two woman moved forward a few steps to embrace one another, both trying to outsqueeze the other until it was Hale coughing outloud and tapping the older womans' back in surrender. "Christ, Val. How many fucking steroids you taking? You're like hugging bricks."
"Don't you be thinkin' I'd be gettin' soft in my old lady years." The forty-year old N7 smiled, displaying teeth that spoke of a life-long smokeless tobacco user. Hale did notice that Stacy seemed a good deal bigger, her uniform tight over her musculature. Val had already been stocky before, but now the woman seemed to peg in at almost a hundred kilos, and most of that muscle.
"What? Papa Bear gettin' no lovin's?" Mason held out his arms, and Hale got a twisted smile as she flicked her knuckles right towards his manly parts, an old game. The Australian-born man jumped back to protect his privates as he squawked out in indignation. "Hey! I'd be needn' those tonight, luv. Can't go coursin' if yer be wackin' me in the jimmies."
"Such an asshole, Royce." Hale hugged him as well, the one and nine meter tall man a monster compared to her own one and seven meter height. It was still good to see them both, the leaders of N Combat Team-28, otherwise known as Team Paul Hogan. The Lieutenant Colonel remembered when she had first joined NCT-28 as a 1st Lieutenant, and had the audacity to ask who 'Paul Hogan' was, since the team was named after him. Royce had answered... in length... and volume... just who the fuck that was. "Is Rhys and Vaz still with you guys?"
"Please, puta. Like we'd go anywhere else!"
Hale looked over to see three more N's standing behind Mason and Valentino, two of them she recognized. The first was a lanky man with copper hair and a perpetual sour disposition, Petty Officer, First Class Rhys Lewellyn (N6). Next to him was short and stocky Latino woman, heavily muscled and still wearing her out-of-regulation red bandana as a headband around her forehead, Staff Sergeant Jeanette 'AMF' Vasquez (N7). The last one Hale hadn't seen or met before was obviously the newest member to NCT-28, another short Latino woman, with her dark hair long and held back in a ponytail, her DSU Alliance Blues reading 'Ocampos, R.' on the nametag, rated as a Petty Officer, Second Class (N3). Ocampos looked pretty tough for a baby N3, obviously fresh off the Villa. Hale smiled at the sight of Rhys and Vas as she pulled them both in, grappling them both around their necks and pulling them in for a hug.
"Damn you bastards are a sight for sore eyes." The Marine told Lewellyn and Vasquez, and meaning every word as squeezed them close, feeling the both of them returning the friendly affection. "Miss being with the Team."
"Yeah, well you couldn't come back with us, puta, so we decided to come to you for a change." Vasquez said as Hale stopped trying to hug and strangle them at the same time, seeing her old team together again with her. After she had made her Major, the Office of Naval Personnel had decided that she would be better commanding Marines instead of N's, and she had been reassigned, her first mission being Torfan. After that, she had ended up in Admiral Ahern's Tactical Response Unit in Pinnacle for the next two years, leading the 2nd Battalion. She got to see her friends from time to time, but she hadn't worked with them since '79. Seeing them in front of her...
"You got orders? For me? Or..." Hale looked at Royce, who pulled out a collapsible datapad and handed it to her. Jen took the datapad and pulled it open, turned it on, and saw the orders there, straight from the Office of Naval Personnel, by care of Special Operations Command. She saw the signature for Lieutenant General William Halley at the bottom of the orders, as well as the orders themselves; NCT-28 had been reassigned to Captain David Anderson and his command, with the provisional orders to support...
Oh. Oh shit. Hale couldn't believe her eyes when she read the date of the orders in front of her and then what the rest contained. Ten days ago, Captain Mason and Team Hogan had been ordered to support Humanity's First SPECTRE. With two candidates running around, that would have been fine, but in the orders Royce had given her, then-Major Jennifer Hale had specifically been named as the person in question. Not then-Lieutenant Commander Mark Meer. She saw Grissoms' hand in this. He always did believe in her. But the implication behind it wasn't lost on her. Not that she had any doubt that she was better than Meer, but having more support on her side, especially with friends she knew and trust? After the revelation she had with Meer and her own adopted mother, Captain Hannah Shepard, she could use a little more trust and stability on her side.
"Well, I won't lie, the Normandy needs the bodies." Hale replied quietly, thinking of their losses. The SSV Normandy was now down to ten Marines, six having been medically diagnosed that they would unable to be returned to active combat status. She had lost three-quarters of her combat team, and Hale was going to need people to fill in those slots. Having three N7's and an N6 would go a long ways into filling those holes, especially if she had the N's start training the remaining Marines in SpecOp tactics. They wouldn't learn much in a short period of time, but a few battle drills and tactical exercises could turn the remaining ten Marines into a combat force multiplier instead of the normal run-of-the-mill squad. The good thing was that the number of remaining Marines would actually work well; N's were about small unit tactics, going up to a squad of ten men. "We've got Taps this evening, and we'll be heading out tomorrow morning to the Citadel. Somebody's got to answer to the evil alien overlords and get a nifty little SPECTRE badge."
"Did no one bother to inform the boondockin' Counsel that yer like... the worst fuckin' choice ever t'be James Bond?" Mason asked, looking to the others with a smile. "I bet the fuckin' Hegemony is countin' its lucky stars the Geth is the asshole de juer, otherwise I'd expect yer first act as SPECTRE would be t'declare open war on Khar'shan."
"Am I really that transparent?" Hale tried for innocent and failed miserably. Most of NCT-28 was laughing or chuckling, though Petty Officer Rain Ocampos stayed back a step or two, obviously recognizing that she was the odd-man out for the moment. "So, Rain. What's your rating, Sailor? Master-at-Arms? Corpsman? Combat Engineer?"
"Radar Technician, 2nd Class." The N3 replied, and Hale merely blinked at that. An Ops Alley screenwatcher went N? That was... impressive. And strange.
"Well, considering we're probably going on the offensive against a machine race, I think you either lucked out with your skills, or have the worst timing ever, Rain. Welcome to the Normandy." Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale stuck out her hand, and Petty Officer, Second Class Rain Ocampos shook it. "Royce, we're docked in 38, so feel free to mosey over and drop your shit off in the Cargo Bay. Met up with my Platoon Leader and Platoon Sergeant when you get there. Vas will remember the Typhoon well enough."
"Shit." The Latino woman smiled at the thought of Master Sergeant Paula Maldonaldo. Vas had served under Gunnery Sergeant Maldonaldo on a deployment prior to Hale getting out of Annapolis. "No wonder the Geth got their asses handed back to them on Eden Prime if both you and her were there. That chica probably taught a Krogan how to beg and cry."
"I know, the Gods of the Navy were good to me." Hale replied with a smile. "Anyhow, Taps is at 1800, so you can come if you like, but it isn't mandatory. Award ceremony is at 1900. That's volunteer, too, but both Lieutenant Alenko and Master Sergeant Maldonaldo are getting the Order of Luna for their actions on Eden Prime, and there's going to be some posthumous Medals of Honor, Navy Crosses, and... yeah, someone went and recommended me for a fucking Star of Terra."
"You're... not happy?" Ocampos asked, looking to the Lieutenant Colonel with a little uncertainty. The Star of Terra was the highest award one could get in the Alliance.
"I don't deserve it. I trashed some toasters out in some fields, rescued some Prothean doohickey, and okay, yeah I did dismantle a huge fucking bomb. But my Marines saved at least six thousand plus people in Constant, but probably a lot more than that with their presence, the Geth going towards them instead of hunting for survivors, and coordinating other survivors on what to do." Hale told the N3, making the Radar Technician frown. "For every person who gets some nifty award, there's probably another six to ten who actually did the real work and don't get recognized for it, but humanity does love its heroes, so a nice gold frizbee for me. Contemplating stapling that award to my next Cain shot so when I fire it some Geth ship or tank, they'll really know I do care." That had Valentino laughing out loud while Lewellyn snickered.
"God, missed you, Hale." Stacy slapped Jen in the bicep hard enough that it probably left a hand-sized bruise. "We'll be there only so we can point and laugh."
"PLATOON... ATTENTION!"
The sound of Master Sergeant Paula Maldonaldo's voice echoed through Dock 38 as the sixteen-man Marine Platoon stood in a double-line formation, facing inward. Some of the Marines, all dressed in their Dress Blues, having to make it work with casts and bandages, and in the case of Corporal Richard Jenkins, a wheelchair. Despite injuries and nagging Doctors, every one of the surviving members of the Normandy's Marine Platoon showed up for Taps, regardless of pain. Two lines of eight men and women stood (or sat) facing each other with a lane wide enough for a hoverskid to go in between them, though no hoverskid would be used.
"PRESENT... ARMS!"
Hands went to brows in a military fashion as the Marines saluted each other, some having to make do by pulling off their service caps and holding it over their hearts, their right arms too injured to salute as a bugler began to play, a lonely instrument playing slow, a three-note intro that all who had ever served in war in the past several centuries would recognized. Taps began as a tradition for the Federalist Forces during the American Civil War, coming from a French signal meaning 'lights out'. It became the mainstay for funerals in both the Ferderalist and Confederate forces by 1862, and adopted by the Alliance during its inception in 2148. The notes rang loud and brass, as the first metal casket was carried out from the SSV Normandy, six Marines from Arcturus that volunteered for the honor to carry the twenty-four Marines that died on Eden Prime, died saving human lives, died heroes. One hundred and forty-four Marines had volunteered from the Arc for the detail to carry the caskets from ship to funeral barge; a ship designed to carry and transport those brave servicemen who had given their lives in the same of the Alliance. The barge would sprinkle dirt from Earth into each of the caskets, to represent their homeworld, and done the Alliance flag on each body, to represent what they fought for. The Barge would then take the casket and incinerate its contents, the ashes collected and placed into a brass urn and delivered to the next-of-kin, and lacking that, an appropriate church that many congregations throughout Earth and its colonies ensured that there would never be a shortage of responsible caretakers for the remains.
Twenty-four caskets were carried as Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale stood at the right hand end of the line of Marines; as their superior officer, she was suppose to be the last one to see them off. She held her salute perfectly for thirty-five minutes, a feat unto itself, yet she wouldn't settle for anything less than; these men, her Marines, had given their lives to save others. In her mind, there was no more noble cause, the very essence of joining in the Service. She herself had joined to fight for people like herself, those threatened by slavers and pirates. Yet what she had seen on Eden Prime... it had been worse than Torfan, in her mind. The Geth spikes, the sight of people turned into something resembling charcoal, an enemy that felt neither fear nor despite that, her Marines had done their job better than she had expected against such odds. She didn't think the Geth shitty fighters, but there was something off about the way they fought that didn't make sense to her. With such odds, none of them should have survived. A forty-man platoon and a four-man team should have been wiped out within minutes.
When the last of the caskets were finally carried to the Barge, Master Sergeant Maldonaldo called them out to 'order arms', and everyone dropped their salutes as seven Marines armed with antiquated bolt-action rifles stood ready, loading single blanks into their reproduction 1903 Springfields, raising the rifles to their shoulders and firing a volley, working the bolts to eject the spent shell, and loading a fresh one. Fire, unlock, reload, lock, fire. Twenty-one gun salute finished, the Typhoon of Eden Prime finally called everyone to 'at ease'. Hale took one step backwards and went to where her daughter stood, Katherine Jane Hale holding a bushel of white lillies in her arms, dressed in a black dress. Katie took one step forward from the crowd of on-lookers, mostly military and DOD civilians, though there were a few supporting family members from the Arc, as well as both Turian SPECTREs. Both Colonel Hale and her daughter walked towards the caskets that stood at the base of the Barge as Jen and Katie walked to the first casket, the younger Hale holding a single white lillies for her mother, who proceeded to place the traditional symbol of peaceful slumber in death upon the casket. They moved from one casket to the next, placing a lily upon every casket for every Marine. It took them only a few minutes to go to all twenty-four caskets, standing in front of the Barge as the one hundred and forty-four Marines picked up their burdens and carried them to the Barge, the ramp closing behind them, Jen saluting as her daughter placed her right hand on her heart.
"STAND... RELIEF!"
The funeral over, Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale soon became the host for a tight hug from her daughter, Katie holding her as she pressed her face into her mothers' bosom, silently weeping. Jen comforted her as the remaining Marines of the Normandy approached them, all of them standing in front of the Barge as its ramp closed in front of them, all over them saying one final goodbye.
"Master Sergeant Paula Maldonaldo, Lieutenant (j.g.) Kiaden Alenko, POST!" Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale called out the Platoon Sergeant and Platoon Leader of her Marines, seeing the Typhoon and the Biotic Lieutenant coming forth from the sixteen-man formation. She had already gone through the Navy Crosses and the Medals of Honor. Every award recommendation had been sent and approved quickly, as the Alliance had learned long ago that sitting on such things was just an excuse for someone at the Personnel Office not to do their jobs in a timely fashion. Master Sergeant Maldonaldo and Lieutenant Alenko stood side-by-side in front of the Marine formation, facing their subordinates as Hale stood to one side, holding a datapad in her hands.
"Attention to orders!" The Marines came to attention once more from the position of 'at ease'. "The President of the Systems Alliance recognizes one Master Sergeant Paula Evelyn Maldonaldo of the Systems Alliance Marine Corps and Lieutenant, Junior Grade Kaiden Raphael Alenko of the Systems Alliance Navy for their actions and bravery displayed upon Eden Prime, leading a platoon of Marines assigned to the SSV Normandy and elements of the Eden Prime Colonial Army, Eden Prime Colonial Sheriffs' Department, the Constant Police Division, and the Eden Prime Colonial Militia, did so willingly and knowingly defend the lives of the citizenry of Eden Prime, whose true count will never truly be known to those among us except God. For their actions, leadership, and bravery, they are hereby awarded the Order of Luna, dated Five April Twenty-One Eighty-Three, signed Adam Holstein, Commander-in-Chief, Systems Alliance."
Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale watched as Captain David Anderson came forth with Petty Officer, Second Class Sarah Halvorson at his side, carrying a tray with two midnight ribbons with a large silver medallion hanging from each, depicting Earth's natural satellite. The Commanding Officer of the SSV Normandy took the first ribbon and clasped it over the neck of Master Sergeant Paula Maldonaldo, the medallion resting just under the necktie of her Class Blues. Award in place, both Captain Anderson and Master Sergeant Maldonaldo saluted each other at the same time, and then shook hands before the Black Fox moved to Lieutenant Alenko, draping the medallion just under the Biotic's neck tie of his Dress Whites. Again, the awarding of the medal was finalized with a salute and a handshake, and when Hale called out for the Marines to stand 'at ease', she gave the Marines to applaud the awardees, and everyone in attendance began to cheer and clap for the the Master Sergeant and the Lieutenant. There had been a turn-out of several thousands for the award ceremony for the members of the Normandy, mostly due to the news reports and the Invasion of Eden Prime, but for her own award as well. The applause definitely had Kaiden blushing, Jen noted as she gave the Biotic a reassuring nod and a smile. She remembered her own award ceremony for her Order of Luna; unfortunately, it hadn't been nearly well received by the dozen or so that had showed up, none willing to celebrate an award for the woman labeled 'the Butcher of Torfan'. That had bothered her considerably at the time, especially since her adopted sister hadn't shown up, having gone missing a few weeks later.
Jane Shepard's last words to Jennifer Hale had been that she had never wanted to see or hear from her again.
"Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale, POST!"
The voice of Captain David Edward Anderson rang out as the N7 Marine took a deep breath, hoping that her own Dress Blues were still perfect (a thought she must have had a thousand times already even though she knew they were) and moved forward to replace Master Sergeant Maldonaldo and Lieutenant Alenko, who rejoined the platoon formation. She found herself looking at the sixteen faces of her remaining platoon, standing before her in formation, and she felt nervous, like she hadn't earned what was about to be bestowed upon her. Only five had ever been issued, and she was about to receive one herself, the highest honor that one could be bestowed upon a member of the Alliance Military. She had every right to be nervous.
She just wished that there wasn't so many cameras and reporters looking at her right now.
"Attention to orders!" The voice of the Black Fox was loud and clear, years of command giving him the experience to he heard from long distances, through battle and situation. "The President of the Systems Alliance recognizes one Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Roselyn Hale of the Systems Alliance Marine Corps for her actions and bravery displayed upon Eden Prime, expressing uncommon valor and heroism by willingly and knowingly leading a special insertion team comprised of a member of the Alliance Navy, two Counsel Agents, and a Colonial Soldier, to secure and defend a Prothean Data Beacon from the hands of enemy Geth. During this action, it is noted that Lieutenant Colonel Hale led her team across enemy-held terrain with only a four-man team, rescuing the sole surviving member of the Eden Prime Colonial Army 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry Regiment, secured the Constant Spaceport while temporarily blinded from a headshot, secured the Prothean device, and single-handedly deactivated a fifty megaton Anti-Matter Device in under a minute with one second to spare. Such exemplary behavior is above and beyond such normal actions of her fellow Marines, Sailors, and Soldiers, accomplishing her mission against incredible odds, and sparing the life of every man, woman, and child in Constant within a fifteen kilometer radius. For her actions, leadership, bravery, and going above and beyond the common call of duty, Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Roselyn Hale is hereby awarded the Star of Terra, dated Five April Twenty-One Eighty-Three, signed Adam Holstein, Commander-in-Chief, Systems Alliance. Sir?"
And lo-and-behold, in walked the President of the Systems Alliance himself.
Lieutenant Colonel Hale stood as ramrod straight as she could as from a side door of the Ceremony Room that was used in Arcturus Station for promotions and awards of large-caliber walked in President Holstein, flanked by no less than half-a-dozen Presidential Protection Agents, armored in matte black Kassa Fabrication's Colossus Heavy Final Line Armor, carrying Sabre Assault Rifles usually only available to N's, moving together as a team as the sixty-seven year old man they protected walked without pause straight towards her, a box made of mahogany grown on Earth in his hands. Hale tried not to look at the President as he walked towards her, a man who had been responsible for the forming of the Systems Alliance itself, back when he was a junior Senator in the old US of A's Congress, a part of the Senate Sub-Committee of Space Exploration. It was then-Senator Holstein who had written the original proposal towards the thought to bring the twelve most powerful nations together to take advantage of the new-found technology that had been discovered by NASA on Mars with the help of scientists from other nations, as well as the knowledge that they was life in the galaxy at one point in time. President Holstein had served two consecutive terms, had bowed out of a third, and then ran again for the next term. He was now on his second term of his second set, fourteen years of running the Alliance with a mere four year break. If there was a man said to be Fleet Admiral Jon Grissom's equal, it would be President Adam Holstein.
And now the very man she had swore her Oath to as a Commissioned Officer was standing right before her.
"Today," the President began, everyone in the room standing, not a word said as he spoke, "today we honor our brave men and women, as we should honor them everyday. The galaxy has its dangers, and we have the Alliance Navy and the Marines, the Colonial Army and Air Force to thank for our protection. There are days when their job is vigilance. There are days when their job is vengeance. There are days when it is up to us to show them the gratitude they deserve. Today, I am proud to say, is one of those days.
"Lieutenant Colonel Hale is a name we all know," he continued, "a name that has been soaked in sorrow and tragedy. We have called her the Daughter of Mindoir. We have called her the Bane of Chattlry. We have called her the Butcher of Torfan. But these are mere names compared to the woman who rose from such tribulations, to answer a higher calling, to be there for us when we needed her most. I find it interesting to note that of all the abolitionist groups, of all the militaries in the galaxy, of all those who call slavery wrong and immoral, that Colonel Hale hold the highest amount of rescued persons from that institution in the entire galaxy. Just one person. Our history is fraught with examples of how far just one man or woman can go when the cause is strong enough, when they believe in it strong enough. Colonel Hale continues that tradition with righteousness and zeal, and I am proud to say that I have lived to see such an example.
"When I first heard about Eden Prime, I was filled with a cold fury." Hale was actually surprised to see the President blink back tears. "That such a blow came to us made me think of the Oath I took when I first was elected to this office eighteen years ago. I swore to uphold and defend not only the Articles of the Systems Alliance, but the people who lived within its borders. I felt... such a failure, that something could catch us unawares, like Mindoir and Elysium. Yet when I heard of the actions of a mere forty Marines fighting for Constant, rescuing the innocent, protecting their fellow man, I was filled with both pride and humility. That I could call such men as a part of my race made me joyous beyond belief, and inadequate for being related to them. Our enemies struck, and our brave men and women held the line, and did not give an inch. Colonial Soldiers on Eden Prime using desperate hit-and-run tactics against an enemy that outnumbered them a hundred-to-one. An N7 leading such a small team to recover an ancient artifact that was our enemy's objective. A platoon gathering survivors to hold out, to defend the innocent with their very lives. Is that not what makes us strong? Is that not what makes us great?
"I saw a picture of that bomb that Colonel Hale defused... with a mere second of time remaining until detonation. Seeing that picture? That made me sweat." There was a quiet chuckle among the attendees. "Think about it; sit on a bomb meant to level a countryside, watching the time tick away as you try to stop it, seeing the seconds count away. I'm not afraid to admit that I wouldn't have been able to have done it. Yet that did not stop Colonel Hale. The colony was saved. Constant had fifty-thousand souls living in it before the Geth invaded. Thirty-two thousand people owe their lives to a Marine. We ourselves owe a great deal to her. It is because of this that I award Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Roselyn Hale the highest of awards that I can bestow. I fear it is a pale shadow to the debt that a great many owe to you, Colonel, yet let it be sufficient enough to show to you the respect we have for you." With that, President Adam Holstein opened the mahogany box, and laying upon a bed of red velvet, was a light blue ribbon adorned with a golden medallion big enough to use as a coaster, stamped with the relief of Earth upon it. "Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Roselyn Hale? I award to you the Star of Terra."
Captain David Edward Anderson held the mahogany box as the President pulled the award out, holding the ribbon in both hands as he clasped it around Hales' neck, setting it next to her Order of Luna so that both medallions were seen. The Marine couldn't stop the tears that began to pop from her eyes, and she could see the Black Fox unable to stop his as well as he practically beamed. The ribbon was set, and the President took a small step towards her.
"When you reach the Citadel, SPECTRE," the President whispered for her ears, and her ears alone, "you make sure that whomever you meet looks you straight in the eye... and not downward. Understand me?"
"Yes, sir." Hale whispered fiercely, emphasizing it as best she could without being obvious about, having to fight back her tears. She saluted him sharply, and he saluted her in return; not some sloppy ass shitty civilian salute, but a crisp military salute that would be proper for any Marine.
"Make us proud, Colonel." The President nodded to her and stepped away, dropping his salute. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you Counsel Agent, and Star of Terra-winner, Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Hale."
The applause was thunderous as everyone began to clap and cheer, the shouts and yells wild and without abandoned as Hale finally let herself wipe away the tears. There were thousands of voices and pairs of hands joined in adulation as Jen found herself being the center of attention in a way she had never been before; as a hero. The first person to reach her was her daughter, Katherine Jane Hale, running in a straight beeline towards her mother, giving her a hug as Jen wrapped her arms around her only child, kneeling so that they could embrace each other fully. As she held her daughter, she could see Captain David Anderson clapping his hands, nodding towards her, while Master Sergeant Paula Maldonaldo was whistling with her fingers in her mouth. She could see Captain Royce Mason and Senior Chief Petty Officer Stacy Valentino rooting for her. She could see Lieutenant (j.g.) Kaiden Alenko and Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams standing together, applauding side by side, while Captain Hannah Shepard smiled at her. She even saw Saren Arterius and Nihlus Kryik there, dressed in their formal Counsel Agent robes, both of them nodding their heads in praise. The sound of thousands of people applauding her had Hale weeping as she held her daughter tight.
Today was the day for there to be just one less thing to be fearful for.
A/N: Commander Royce Mason (N7) and Senior Chief Stacy Valentino (N7) are old OC's of mine, going back to the Battle Series as well as Valkyrieverse. I've worked too much with them not to include them into the H/M'universe, and Val promised me that she would demonstrate the 'Organ-Splitter' if I didn't comply. So the Melbourne Marauder and the Texas Organ Splitter have returned.
Sergeant Jeanette 'AMF' Vasquez is a familiar face for both Valkyrieverse and the movie Aliens. The mal-cula puta is back as a member of an N squad, still carrying that M-56 Marshall around.
Petty Officer, First Class Rhys Lewellyn is an old OC of mine that never got used in either the Battle Series (it died before he was introduced) or in the Valkyrieverse (he was honorably mentioned a few times). He was originally going to speak Welsh, but due to the difficulty of the language and the fact that trying to read it is like trying to perform brain surgery with a chainsaw... I nicked the idea, and he just uses phrases instead of talking it.
Petty Officer, Second Class Rain Ocampos I stole from the movie Resident Evil, and borrowed from Valkyrieverse. Why is such a badass chick a Radar Technician? Technically, anyone in the Navy can apply for the SEALS, including screen watchers. That might actually be preferable, as that requires a good deal of expertise and technological know-how, as I understand it. Anyone can shoot a gun; technosavy is not a universal skill. So to answer your question, a Radar technician knows how a radar works... and how to avoid one. Infiltration, anyone?
Paul Hogan - The actor who wrote and played 'Crocodile Dundee'.
Lieutenant General William Halley - A two-star General and in charge of Special Operations, anyone from the Vietnam Era might remember the name of Lieutenant William Halley, Jr., the Lieutenant in charge of the 1st Platoon of the 1st Battalion, 20th Infantry Regiment, responsible for the Mu Ley Massacre where hundreds were executed. I've mentioned him once before in Mass Effect vs. Aliens 2: Valkyrie Rising, where Shepard mentions that she doesn't want to be remembered like him in Chapter
Timelines - the timelines in Mass Effect are a little... strange. Commander Shepard (a commissioned officer) can be a part of the Raid of Elysium in '76, which if born in 2154 and going to Officer Candidate School at 18... would mean she graduated in 2176. Torfan is in '78, and supposedly Akuze is in '79. I shifted these a little bit, and Elysium is in the beginning of '77, and both Akuze and Torfan are mid- to late-'79, since the Skyllian Blitz started with Elysium, and ended with Torfan. In keeping most Alliance Military matters in line with the American military, and borrowing some from the British, Canadian, and Australian Military (as I've worked alongside them from time to time).
While a good deal of the military funeral is based on the US Military funerals, I made a change in the actual burial itself, turning it more into the old Viking tradition of a 'river craft cremation' that many did in the past. Since we've never had a man die in space, how such an ordeal will be handled will probably end up something from Star Wars or Star Trek. Carbonite?
I mention the difficulty of holding a salute for a long time. I've been to more than enough military send-offs to know that it gets physically difficult to hold one for a good period of time. Dropping one during a funeral walk, on the other hand, is a surefire guarantee that you will get your ass kicked hard by about a dozen service members or so. Someone gives their life for their country, the least you can do is hold your goddamn arm up for twenty minutes or so.
I also mention something about the awards process. For anyone that's ever had to write an award (I hope others had it easier than I did in the Army) it can be a righteous pain in the ass, as I know for a fact my S-1 Personnel Office didn't have one English-speaking person in it (seriously, three Haitians, two Chinese, and one Peruvian and no one could understand a word anyone said. Just how the fuck did that work out?). I learned long ago that the awards process is quickly greased when you go to some high-ranking individual to sign off on your award instead of being some buck Sergeant trying to pass off a Bronze Star with Valor; don't believe me? Just ask around.
While I tried making the award ceremony like a real award ceremony (minus all the standing around and waiting that occurs), the awarding of the Star of Terra is nothing like the awarding of a Medal of Honor in several regards. The MOH is usually awarded right at the White House by POTUS, with crowds of thousands, a bunch of media, and takes quite a long time to award; there is a complete and separate committee who reviews any MOH recommendations. The standard for such is 'one who distinguishes himself conspicuously by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States.' Basically an action of uncommon valor and heroism, witnessed by two living witnesses, minus grenade jumpers, who generally are awarded with very little in the way of fuss for obvious reasons. Generally, MOH awardees still in service are shuffled off (at least from combat zones) as they become very tempting targets that will have their unit suffer. Major Robert Swenson is the only living service member still on active duty with a Medal of Honor. It generally can take up to two years for the award process to be completed, though Major Swensons' was awarded some four years after his action due to 'bureaucratic mishaps and oversights'.