Overall chapter X – Shepard story, chapter 1 – On the Normandy

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction based on existing IPs. It cannot be distributed with intent of profit. All recognizable characters, lore and in general canon belong to their respective owners. All additions, deviations and reinterpretations of such are the fruits of my own imagination. Any similarities shared by the latter with other IPs or fictions is purely coincidental and unintended.

PRE-CHAPTER NOTES AND WARNING: this Alternate Universe and First Contact fanfiction for now does not actually start with First Contact, or the build up to it. There are two reasons for it, and neither of them is to replicate the feel of the games. Number one, this is my first fic, so I wanted to start with something I had a lot of canon material to work on until I settle on a style I'm comfortable bringing forward. Number two, I have seen far too many promising alternate first contact fics spend chapters upon chapters on alternate world building, especially pre-First Contact, only to fizzle out before the main game events. Or in some cases even before First Contact.

I promise I have already planned out several prequel chapters, some to insert before this chapter, some in between Shepard's story, to explain what is going on. And while this first chapter is practically identical to the game, going forward it will soon deviate to the point only the vaguest plot points are met. If any want skip chapters like this, and jump to more substantial AU additions, i won't mind. I'll add a warning to each one, detailing just how much they'll deviate. I also promise I'll keep the future chapters shorter, condensing or cutting redundant parts and secondary missions. But can't promise I'll avoid serious rewrites of these earlier chapters.

Also, for the fic name. I chose it, because the fic is structured around hidden truths and unreliable or partial information. Which will be supplemented as it goes on, until the whole is exposed. It sort of stuck as the project evolved over time. I don't know how much Schopenhauer's work will be relevant, even if maybe some echoes other than the title will slip in. Sorry for anyone who expected a more philosophically pregnant work because of it.

Chapter posted on 24.07.2022

Tags: Action, Sci-Fi, Adventure, Friendship, Drama, Family

Rated M: for violent themes and their depiction

Third person description

"Talking"

Thinking

"Disembodied talking"

Not lucent but still striking, even at such great distance, stood a white dome in the blackness of space.

Ambassador Udina: "Well, what about Shepard? She's a spacer, like most of us. Lived aboard starships most of her life."

Barely redder streaks shimmered on the surface, reflections of the fiery gasses of nearby Themis, while thicker ones of light blue paint outlined the edges.

Captain Anderson: "Military service runs in the family. Both her parents were in the navy."

From it sprang in height an antenna, nearly equal to the diameter, as if a baton to conduct like an orchestra the busy traffic that darkened stars all around.

Admiral Hackett: "She proved herself during the Blitz. Rallied fellow sailors on leave and held off enemy forces until reinforcements arrived."

While in length two prongs embraced the space ahead in the stiffest of hugs, where spaceships much like this station in design were docked.

Captain Anderson: "She's the only reason Elysium is still standing."

Through a window on walls of an equally muted white, stood a young human woman, her gaze towards this sight, but her mind lost in deep thought.

Ambassador Udina: "We can't question her courage. Or leadership."

Her short, not too messy, hair was of a red even fiercer than the gas giant nearby, while her eyes were of a green-blue tint. Her pinkish skin spoke of few, but intense, days spent in the sun, or even a reactor's light. She was dressed in a black power armour with an equally dark undersuit, two menacing rifles collapsed on her back, a pistol at her side, and who knows how many other tricks up her sleeve. Behind the rifles, the reactors hummed with blue lights. While her right arm, had a bright red stripe, with white outlines. Mimicking the N7 mark, white letters with a red square behind the number, proudly displayed on her right breast.

Captain Anderson: "Humanity needs a hero. And Shepard's the best we've got."

Ambassador Udina: "I'll make the call."

As the system's star moved behind the massive dome-shaped station, turning it into a spectacle of rays and shadows, the woman snapped away from the window, and began to walk at a fast pace through the corridor. The spaceship she was on was moving too, departing from the sight and slinging around Themis, using the gas giant's pull to accelerate towards their common destination.

At such speeds, for a station-bound observer, the ship would have looked like some blurry, translucent, arrow, or a delta wing. But while one would be correct to identify it as the silhouette of an Alliance frigate, this was a vessel far too unusual for such an unremarkable design. The first feature to catch the eye was the much softer, less blocky, appearance. Apart for the flat front, flanked by two horse blinders-like extensions of the sides, the main body sported a gentle curvature on what could be called "the ship's top", the apex at two thirds of its length from the nose. Together with the paint scheme it was remindful of a hunchback whale, just one with the colours inverted, as the ship sported a mainly black belly and mostly white top. From this section extended many plane-like features, betraying the vessel's atmospheric flight capabilities. Near the very aft shot up a towering tail, capped like a T by a triangular stabilizer, while from the sides extended two wings, swept both back and downwards. These wings were then part of one other very unusual design choice. Like a massive sea-going catamaran, the hull of the ship had been divided in five parts, with four rather large, but still progressively smaller, prongs being mounted on and connected by the wings. Quite curiously, despite the ship's core being obviously located in the main body, this had no main thruster of its own, the back being occupied by the ship's hangar. This left the outermost prongs, mounted directly at the wings' tips, as little more than oversized engine pods. While the middle prongs extended quite far in front of the wings too. Only two, symmetric, sets of white text had been painted to identify the ship. On the closest engine pods, SR-1. While on the main body, Normandy.

"The Hecate Prime relay is in range. Initiating transmission sequence." this crackling intercom report from the pilot, Jeff Moreau, known as Joker by most, had brought commander Jane Shepard out of her musings. Having now reached the CIC, she passed by many of the busy crew, making her way to the pilot's seat. From the polished grey and white of the CO station in the back, to the black of the almost corridor-like area of the working stations towards the front, the entire room was permeated by a light orange tint from the many holograms.

Joker: "We are connected. Calculating transit mass and destination."

She was now on a walkway, from where one could look over the various work-stations at its sides. Unlike her own posting, with the large galactic map and many standing consoles surrounding it, these were much more compact, one seat with few holographic screens right in front, each slightly sunken in the walls as part of alternated recessed sections. Rings of lights lined both the walkway and the jutted wall sections, even if dimmer compared to those of the OC station.

Joker: "The relay is hot. Acquiring approach vector."

As the ship finished preparations, the outer engine pods were retracted closer to the hull, sliding under the middle prongs and settling in-between.

Joker: "All stations secure for transit."

Having finally reached the cockpit, the woman now stood behind three forward-facing consoles. At her side was a figure in grey armour, with red lighting and a slight hunch extending into a collar.

Joker: "The board is green. Approach run has begun."

The Normandy had now reached a two-pronged fork-like structure, with thinning extremities and many long antennas towering from what could be called "the top". It was mostly white, with orange details, as well as many illuminated windows. While it had no handle, and the two prongs re-joined towards the end, they did so after suddenly curving upwards into an ellipse. In the middle of this part of the structure, stood a massive rotating mechanism, washing the space around it with blue light and great power.

Joker: "Hitting the relay in 3… 2… 1…"

As the Normandy closed in, it became indistinguishable from dust on a window compared to the sheer scale and light of the Relay. Suddenly a blue lightning bolt from the spinning core struck the ship, and as if stuck, kept tracking it for the next few moments. As it did so, the vessel began to leave behind concentric, rapidly fading, blue rings. While in front of the Normandy the great energies at work condensed in a blue-white ball, so chaotic it seemed a small hurricane. Then, these concentrated energies exploded in a second blue bolt, parallel to the two prongs, which were now too being charged with blue energy. As a blue wave began passing over the Relay's surface, as if pushed by it, the Normandy began to accelerate at an impossible rate, and when both hit the end of the prongs, was catapulted forward leaving behind only a bright blue streak.

Joker: "Thrusters… check. Navigation… check. Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift… just under 1500 K"

This was, for now, the pilot's final report. A human male on the shorter side, he was wearing an all-black jumpsuit with short sleeves, and despite being indoor, a black cap too, betraying a taste for irony. While definitely with a pinkish skin, it was hard to discern if he had a tan too, washed as he was by the orange tint of the holograms, which also gave his green eyes a yellow appearance. He sported a shaved, but very noticeable, beard, even if much less so over his lips.

"1500 K is good. Your captain will be pleased."the grey armoured figure spoke. He was Nihlus Kryik, member of an alien species known as Turians, who resembled at the same time old pics of both reptiles, avians and even insects. He sported metallic scales just as dark grey as his armour, with protrusions jutting from his head both backwards and under his chin, as if equivalents to hair and a beard respectively. The forward ones were in reality outer mandibles, used both to seal the jaws, and to express emotions. While his flat plated nose had far more than just two holes, with three auxiliary horizontal slits stacked upwards, the hands only had three digits, with much space between them. Canine legs completed the alien anatomy, swept back by a joint in his calf, and he was standing upright on his toes instead of soles. His eyes were of a glowing, contrasting, green, while his face was painted with an elaborate white design.

Joker: "I hate that guy"

"Nihlus gave you a compliment… so you hate him?" came as a question from a crewman seated just to the left of Joker. He was Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, head of the ship's marine detail, sentinel, and occasional co-pilot. Another pinkish human male, slightly taller than Joker, he too wore a black jumpsuit, this time without a cap. His hair too was very dark, with a face shaved clean and subtle blue eyes.

Joker: "You remember to zip up your jumpsuit on the way to the bathroom? That's good. I just jumped us halfway across the galaxy and hit a target the size of a pinhead. So that's incredible! Besides, Spectres are trouble. I don't like having him on board. Call me paranoid."

Kaidan: "You're paranoid. The Council helped fund this project. They have a right to send someone to keep an eye on their investment."

Joker: "Yeah, yet I don't see any Quarian special operative here, and I bet they're half the reason this ship flies at all. Besides, that is the official story. But only an idiot believes the official story."

"Well, having any Quarian, or even non-Council compliant human, government representative on this ship would be just asking for trouble, since we'll have to operate in Citadel space. But I agree with your point. They don't send Spectres on shakedown runs." Shepard had been until now silently listening to her two comrades little chat, but as always Joker proved more insightful than his demeanour let on. Spectres are the ultimate operatives of the Citadel Council, beholden only to them and above ordinary law. They are far too few to waste on what's at worst going to turn in a babysitting and scolding mission. It's not like he can handle the Normandy better than us engineers. Or any spacer really. If anything fails in the technical department, which is the supposed whole point of a shakedown cruise, he's just deadweight. As Shepard thought of this, Joker had once again a ready reply: "So there's more going on here than the captain's letting on." Suddenly the intercom chirped, interrupting any further speculation.

"Joker! Status report." Immediately, just one thought went through Shepard's mind: Speak of the devil… As it was of course Captain Anderson himself, even if his voice seemed far more stern than usual, like he was forcing himself back. The urgency underlined by almost shouting the pilot's callsign certainly uncommon during a simple cruise.

Joker: "Just cleared the mass relay, Captain. Stealth systems engaged. Everything looks solid."

Captain Anderson: "Good. Find a comm buoy and link us into the network. I want mission reports relayed back to Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime."

Joker: "Aye, aye Captain. Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is headed your way."

Captain Anderson: "He's already here, Lieutenant."

Everyone in the room looked at Joker, Kaidan especially savouring it, while the pilot simply shook his head and shrugged.

Captain Anderson: "Tell commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for a debriefing."

Joker: "You get that, Commander?"

Shepard: "He sounds angry. Something must have gone wrong with the mission."

Joker replied with a sonorous puff: "Pff. Captain always sounds like that when he's talking to me."

"I can't possibly imagine why." Which in turn brought Kaidan in the conversation, Joker having slipped a too perfect bait to ignore. He then turned towards Shepard: "You probably don't want to keep the captain waiting, Commander."

Sufficiently spurred by many years in the Navy and Anderson upset tone, Shepard began walking back out of the cockpit, checking her rifle nonetheless. And as she was always alert, she also picked up a few conversations in the CIC.

Navigator Pressly: "I'm telling you, I just saw him! He marched by like he was on a mission."

Engineer Adams: "He's a Spectre. They're always on a mission."

Navigator Pressly: "And we are getting dragged right along with him!"

Engineer Adams: "Relax Pressly, you are going to give yourself an ulcer."

Seeing Shepard coming near the galactic map, Chief Navigator Charles Pressly turned towards her. He was a middle-aged man, with only a grey-ish crown of hair left and an equally grey short beard, while his eyes were brown. He was wearing a much more formal navy uniform, deep blue with golden edges, especially noticeable with the shoulder pads and hems. On these, he also had a single golden stripe, denoting his rank. "Congratulations, Commander. Looks like we had a smooth run. You heading down to see the captain?"

Shepard: "Yes. By the way, I heard you arguing. Sounds like you don't trust our turian guest."

Navigator Pressly: "Sorry, Commander. Just having a chat with Adams down in engineering. Didn't mean to cause any trouble. But you have to admit, something's odd about this mission. The whole crew feels it."

Shepard immediately thought back to her conversation with Joker, and decided to push for more information. As well as probing the crew for any grievances, since she was the ship's XO afterall. "You think the Alliance brass is holding out on us?"

Navigator Pressly: "If all we are supposed to do is test out the stealth system, why is Captain Anderson in charge? And then there's Nihlus. Spectres are elite operatives. Top covert agents. Why send a spectre-a turian Spectre-on a shakedown run? It doesn't add up."

Especially when the turians could have just sent one of their engineers. Added Shepard in her head. Still, she decided to keep investigating. "What do you know about the stealth systems?"

Navigator Pressly: "I just know it masks our location from scans and sensors. Cutting edge technology. The Normandy's the only ship with this prototype drive. But why are we fully staffed' A skeleton crew would be cheaper. Less chance of security leaks, too. Plus, there's Nihlus. It's pretty obvious this shakedown run is just a cover."

Shepard: "For what?"

Navigator Pressly: "Damned if I know, Commander. We're out here on false pretenses. I'm not a fan of being left in the dark."

Well, that was basically as much as we knew too, let's change argument. Weird for him to doubt Anderson, they've served together for years Shepard thought. "Do you have a problem with the captain?"

Navigator Pressly: "No, ma'am! But I can't figure out what he's doing here. Captain Anderson is one of the most decorated Special Forces officers in the service. If he melted down all his medals, he could make a life-sized statue of himself. You don't send a soldier like that on a do-nothing mission. He's treating this shakedown run too seriously. Something big is going on."

And that's still underselling him Shepard mused if one counts his trainees' medals too, I'd say he could make a real-size replica of this very ship. All 155 meters. I wouldn't even be an N7 without him, and who knows how many else the Alliance would have missed… Back to my job, I'm going to guess you truly don't like the turian. You're definitely old enough to still hold a grudge.

"You don't trust Nihlus."

Navigator Pressly: "I don't like turians in general. Runs in my family. My grandfather fought in the First Contact War; lost a lot of friends when the turians hit us."

Shepard: "That was thirty years ago. You can't blame Nihlus for that."

Navigator Pressly: "No, I guess not. But it still makes me nervous to have a Spectre on board, especially a turian. We're an Alliance vessel, human military. But Nihlus doesn't answer to the captain like the rest of us. Spectres operate outside the normal chain of command. And they don't come along just to observe shakedown runs. Nihlus looks like he's expecting some heavy action. I don't like it."

Shepard: "I'll see if I can get some answers when I see him."

Navigator Pressly: "Good luck, Commander."

Immediately after this conversation with the Navigator, as she walked around the delta of consoles, another commotion reached Shepard's ears.

Corporal Jenkins: "I grew up on Eden Prime, Doc. It's not the kind of place Spectres visit. There's something Nihlus isn't telling us about this mission."

A dismissing reply, with a rather unusual posh accent, came from the woman beside him, Doctor Chakwas: "That's crazy. The captain's in charge here. He wouldn't take orders from a Spectre."

Corporal Jenkins: "Not his choice, Doc. Spectres don't answer to anyone. They can do whatever they want. Kill anyone who gets in their way."

Once more, Doctor Chakwas let out a sarcastic laugh: "Ha! You watch too many spy vids, Jenkins."

As Shepard finally was noticed, they both immediately turned towards her, probably as an arbiter in their little impasse. Corporal Richard L. Jenkins was wearing the same black jumpsuit as most on the Normandy, but with a few differences from the rest. Particularly distinctive were his belt with an argent-like geared pin buckle, and black beret, sporting the Alliance delta insignia with three stars underneath, covering his hair. His face was also shaved, while eyes were blue. As for Doctor Karin Chakwas, she was an older woman, but still lively black hair and blue eyes. As she was the ship's chief medical officer, her uniform was unlike anyone else on the CIC. On top of the two very obvious reflective orange SR1 armbands, even her suit design was made to remind anyone of her assignment on the Normandy. As its colours mirrored the vessel paint scheme. It was black with white stripes, starting from shoulder pads and collar, then covering the sides as well as forming a semi-circular "flap" on the upper body. The long gloves also had white outlines, as well as white circles on top.

Corporal Jenkins: "What do you think, Commander? We won't be staying on Eden Prime too long, will we? I'm itching for some real action!"

Doctor Chakwas: "I sincerely hope you're kidding, Corporal. Your 'real action' usually ends with me patching up crew members in the infirmary."

I hope he wisens up before this misplaced eagerness gets him killed Shepard: "You need to calm down, Corporal. A good soldier stays cool, even under fire."

Corporal Jenkins: "Sorry, Commander. But this waiting's killing me. I've never been on a mission like this before. Not one with a Spectre on board!"

Shepard: "Just treat this like every other assignment you've had and everything will work out."

Corporal Jenkins: "Easy for you to say. You proved yourself in the Blitz. Everybody knows what you can do. This is my big chance. I need to prove the brass what I can do!"

Shepard: "You're young, Corporal. You have a long career ahead of you. Don't do something stupid to mess it up."

Corporal Jenkins immediately put his arm forwards, gesticulating defensively: "Don't worry, ma'am. I'm not going to screw this up."

Like I believe you're convinced so easily Shepard thought we'll either need a serious session, or a grave accident, to put the fear of death back in Jenkins. But that's for another time. I have more investigating to do. Shepard now turned to Doctor Chakwas, definitely the more experienced and wiser of the pair: "What can you tell me about Nihlus?"

Doctor Chakwas: "Turians are generally well-respected by the other species. Their fleet has more patrols protecting Citadel space than any other. Human Nomad fleets notwithstanding. Which is one of the reasons they don't always get along with us, though. A lingering feeling of mutual distrust I'd say. More than a few of theirs see us as undermining their role as enforcers. While some of our people find them too rigid. Others still blame them for the First Contact War. As for Nihlus, I haven't said more than two words to him. He usually only speaks to the captain."

Corporal Jenkins, hearing the Spectre name, suddenly interjected with some of his opinions: "I hope we get a chance to see him in action. I heard Nihlus took down an entire enemy platoon all by himself!"

As expected, he immediately forgot our little chat. Shepard chuckled to herself I for one hope we'll at most see him in action sifting through paperwork. Any fight where a Spectre would break a sweat, is one where a lot has had to go spectacularly wrong. And who knows how many already died. But again, insisting on this directly is useless. So, Shepard chose instead to probe Jenkins knowledge, to see if he at least realized how dangerous such a situation would be: "What do you know about the Spectres?"

Again, it was Doctor Chakwas who answered first: "Only what I've heard. Spectre agents work directly for the Citadel Council. They usually work alone or in small groups. Spectre don't have any official power, though. Basically, they're a shadow organization with a mandate to preserve and protect galactic stability."

Corporal Jenkins: "Protect it at any cost. Don't forget that part. Spectres operate above the law!"

Quite hypocritical to chastise us for breaking laws we didn't even know existed. Yet have an entire force immune from it. Where's the accountability in that? As Shepard was thinking this, another issue came to her mind: "Why don't we have any of our own people in there?"

Doctor Chakwas: "Spectres usually come from the Council races. Like the turians. We've been trying to get a human accepted into their ranks for years now. So far, it hasn't happened."

Between that 'usually' and the bad blood with the turians, I'm not surprised. It seems the mightiest fleet in Citadel space doesn't stand up to centuries of diplomatic embellishments or political backroom deals. Shepard mused with an acid smile. Or an actual history of heroics in service of the Council.

She could also see Corporal Jenkins opening his mouth, and readied for another of his words of wisdom: "Hey, Commander! You'd make a good Spectre! You're a war hero, right? Held off an entire enemy fleet during the Blitz single-handed. That's the kind of talent the Spectres are looking for."

Ha! At least Joker is more subtle with his taunting Shepard was ready to answer with a snickering remark, when the gravity of his statement hit. Like a dreadnought main cannon. Making everything crash down. …being the symbol of humanity, what a promotion. And headache.

While Shepard stood there, as catatonic and overwhelmed as an elite soldier can be, so not really too much and certainly not outwardly visible, Doctor Chakwas shattered the awkward pause with as much tact as a Krogan bloodlusted charge: "This is all just wild speculation. The Spectre's aren't interested in recruiting humans. No matter how capable."

And, much like any respectable cold shower, was enough to wake Shepard up from her own speculating Agree, can't let our imagination run wild. We are professionals! Although… if it's really an evaluation… some sort of test wouldn't be out of the question… Unlikely to be combat, as we are on a brand new possibly faulty ship. So, either paperwork or, since this is a stealth frigate, infiltration. Guess some more intelligence gathering is in order. Afterall, we are professionals! Her daily mental gymnastics done, it was again her turn to speak: "You're from Eden Prime, aren't you Jenkins? What's it like? The planet, not being a settler."

Corporal Jenkins: "It's very peaceful, Commander. They've been real careful with development, so you don't have any city noise or pollution. My parents lived on the outskirts of the colony. At night, I used to climb this big hill and stare across the fields back at the lights from the main settlement. It was gorgeous. But when I got older, I realized it was a little too calm and quiet for me. That's why I joined the Alliance. Even paradise gets boring after a while."

Doesn't sound like a place for combat evaluation. But neither the usual last leg of a shakedown run. No notable naval industry to resupply the ship, no local military R&D site connected with the Normandy's development. At most, a decent garrison that can spare a towship if we breakdown. By now, Shepard was convinced it was Spectre business bringing them to Eden Prime. Still, if not a test for her or someone else on the ship, what would a Spectre care for? "Any idea why Eden Prime was chosen as our destination?"

Corporal Jenkins: "Not really sure, Commander. Eden Prime's one of our most stable colonies. Good place to take the Normandy for her shakedown run, I guess. No real danger there."

Definitely little chance of a hijack attempt, true. But there are equally safe, much more logical systems to choose from. Was Shepard unspoken reply

Corporal Jenkins: "But there's got to be something else going on. We've got a Spectre on board! That's why I'm so wound up. I can't wait for the real mission to start!"

Well, this was a load of nothing but idle speculation. Hope Anderson doesn't mind too much Shepard now had to go, having remembered that she was supposed to be in a hurry "The captain's waiting for me."

Only Doctor Chakwas replied in time, before Shepard had turned around the corner: "Goodbye, Commander."

Said corner was in reality only a thin wall, which cut off direct line of sight between several rooms and the CIC proper. This made it form a small straight corridor, perpendicular to the ship thrust axis, accessible from CIC thought two 45° degree turns without any doors. The actual structural wall, lined with the various doors, presented three tiers, with a first recessed section exactly equal in length to the separation wall, but with semi-circular padded ends instead of straight edges. In the one end closer to Shepard, was stationed a human guard, right next to the door, to her destination, the briefing room. The door was sunken in even further, surrounded by white lights, and had a green panel to its right. It was made of four rectangle interlocking plates. In the centre, two formed a grey metal strip. The upper one was taller, and had the Normandy's hull number, SR1, printed on it, not left to right, but from the locking mechanism to a small notch much higher. This locking mechanism was made up of two asymmetrical extensions from the central plates, the smaller of which extended from the left side of the lower plate. Meanwhile, the plates to the sides were of a glass-like blue, a hue made by the energy fields and lights emitted from two light-blue lines on the central plates' sides. As the Commander walked towards it, the guard saluted her, and the door automatically split and opened, sliding down, up and sideways inside the walls. An elliptical corridor, with a downward walkway ramp, connected this door to the actual circular briefing room, also suspended inside an oval cylinder. Dim lights came from the railings of the circular platform, the exposed cables underneath, and the jointures of the oval base wall at the opposite end of the room. On it, a hologram with red streaks on its edges was displaying some sort of grey metallic structure, in the green and blue landscape of a planet. On the platform, two rows of seats were arranged on either side, while standing in front of the raised commands of the display, stood the shadowy silhouette of a turian. It was of course the Spectre, Nihlus. Having heard Shepard's footsteps coming closer, he turned around to speak:

"Commander Shepard. I was hoping you'd get here first. It will give us a chance to talk."

"The captain said he'd meet me here" While definitely a chance to satiate her curiosity, Shepard didn't really feel at ease with a vis-à-vis yet. And would have much preferred an explanation from someone she could trust, like Anderson.

Nihlus: "He's on his way."

There was a brief pause, and then the Spectre resumed, now pacing up and down the room, or looking at the holographic display of what was likely somewhere on Eden Prime. "I'm interested in this world we're going to – Eden Prime. I've heard it's quite beautiful."

Shepard: "They say it's a paradise."

Nihlus: "Yes… a paradise. Serene. Tranquil. Safe. Eden Prime has become something of a symbol for your people, hasn't it? Even spacers and nomads. Proof that humanity can not only establish and protect colonies across the galaxy. But do so better, without centuries of experience, without being planet born. Yet how safe is it, really?"

Shepard: "Why ask?"

Nihlus: "Your people are still newcomers, Shepard. The galaxy is dangerous, even outside of the Veil. Is the Alliance truly ready for this?"

Before the conversation could continue, and become any more passive-aggressive, the sounds of the door opening announced another person's entrance. It was Captain Anderson. A stern looking black mam, he was wearing a formal navy uniform, with three golden stripes on the shoulder pads and hems. He had brown eyes, with a subtle green tint. While his raspy, short, black hair showed a receded hairline, in part a sign of his older age.

"I think it's about time we told the commander what's really going on."

Nihlus: "This mission is far more than a simple shakedown run."

With the turian having already anticipated her once, Shepard was now much faster with her, theoretically witty, reply: "I figured there was something you weren't telling us."

Captain Anderson now turned towards her: "We're making a covert pick-up on Eden Prime. That's why we needed the stealth systems operational."

So, infiltration it is. Still, so much for being the right-hand woman Shepard, like all spacers, knew very well such obvious secrecy could doom a vessel. It would cause unnecessary drama, when all was calm, which during an emergency would translate in paralysing mistrust. Especially if the cause of the emergency is the secret, or even worse, wasn't explained until it became too late to solve it. During the Exodus, countless ships perished for the pettiest of secrets, and obsessive adherence to the chain of command. Even when there was definitely time to explain to the crew the situation. "You know the crew doesn't like being kept in the dark, Captain. And neither do I."To which she added, unsaid but completely understood by the other spacer even you hate it. And people have transferred to the other fleets for much less

Captain Anderson was now turned towards her, and while he did understand her worries, he didn't show it, at least not with a possibly judgmental turian in the room. "This comes down from the top, Commander. Information strictly on a need-to-know basis. A research team on Eden Prime unearthed some kind of beacon during an excavation. It was Prothean."

For the second time today, Shepard found herself somewhat shocked "I thought the Protheans vanished 50000 years ago."

Nihlus was the one to answer, barely moving his hand as he did so: "Their legacy still remains. The mass relays, the Citadel, our ship drives – it's all based on Prothean technology."

"This is big, Shepard. It's the first remnant we've found since the Exodus ended. And without those, we wouldn't have ever left the Veil alive." Captain Anderson instead was gesticulating far more, moving both hands and arms. "But Eden Prime doesn't have the facilities to handle something like this. We need to bring the beacon back to the Citadel for proper study."

Nihlus: "Obviously, this goes beyond mere human interests, Commander. This discovery could affect every known species."

And would have made a wonderful fast track to catch up with you turians Shepard, with a dash of xenophobia and a healthy dose of paranoia, both not uncommon in the military, began internally cursing whoever had decided to share this discovery before they had even secured the beacon "Why didn't we keep the beacon for ourselves?"

Instead of the intended addressee, it was Nihlus who replied first: "You humans don't have the best reputation, and parallels to the Quarians run rampant. Some species see you as selfish. Too unpredictable. Too independent. Even dangerous."

Captain Anderson: "Sharing that beacon will improve relations with the Council. Plus, we need their scientific expertise. They know more about the Protheans than we do."

Nihlus: "The beacon's not the only reason I'm here, Shepard."

Captain Anderson: "Nihlus wants to see you in action, Commander. He's here to evaluate you."

Called it. And avoided getting surprised too, with the little heads-in-the-cloud earlier. Definitely a good impression Shepard was not only thinking this as she listened, but, like any good multi-tasker, had already ready her own reply: "Guess that explains why I bump into him every time I turn around."

Captain Anderson: "The Alliance has been pushing for this for a long time. Humanity wants a larger role in shaping interstellar policy. We want more say with the Citadel Council. The Spectres represent the Council's power and authority. If they accept a human into their ranks, it shows how far the Alliance has come. And perhaps one day, they'll help us reclaim our homeworld."

Nihlus: "You held off an enemy assault during the Blitz single-handed. You showed not only courage but also incredible skills. That's why I put your name forward as a candidate for the Spectres."

So, he is the mystical turian who doesn't hold a stick up his… grudges, who doesn't hold grudges. Unfortunate that he still has worse the social skills than his assault rifle. While Shepard could understand a lack of prejudice, she still found it unlikely for a turian to not assume their role as official Council enforcers didn't extend to Spectres too. Afterall, they made up the majority of Citadel law enforcement for a reason. "Why would a turian want a human in the Spectres?"

Nihlus: "Not all turians resent humanity. Some of us see the potential of your species. We see what you have to offer to the rest of the galaxy… and to the Spectres. We are an elite group. It's rare to find an individual with the skills we seek. I don't care that you're human, Shepard. I only care that you can do the job."

Shepard turned to her mentor, seeking his counsel "I assume this is good for the Alliance?"

Captain Anderson: "Humanity needs this, Shepard. We are counting on you."

Nihlus: "I need to see your skills for myself, Commander. Eden Prime will be the first of several missions together."

Captain Anderson: "You'll be in charge of the ground team. Secure the beacon and get it onto the ship ASAP. Nihlus will accompany you to observe the mission."

Well, general details check out, even if I didn't expect Prothean tech to be involved. Now, let's get on with the actual briefing. Like she had done with the crew before, Shepard now needed to satisfy her curiosity, and of course get all necessary orders and intelligence. Like any good soldier. Starting of course with the least essential question. "What do you know about the Protheans?" While not a half-bad engineer, her expertise mostly laid in finding practical solutions and band-aid fixes, not archaeological research.

Captain Anderson: "Just what they taught us in school. They were a technologically advanced species that ruled the galaxy 50000 years ago. Then they vanished. Nobody really knows how or why, though I've heard plenty of theories. But everyone agrees galactic civilisation wouldn't exist without them."

Nihlus: "Their Citadel is the very heart of galactic society. And without their mass relays, interstellar travel would be impossible. We all owe the Protheans a great debt."

Well, that was about as much as I knew too. But Shepard still wanted some mission specific details on the Protheans: "Why is this beacon so important?"

Nihlus: "All advanced galactic civilization is based on Prothean technology. Even yours."

Captain Anderson: "According to what few records we have, it was derelict Prothean ships that allowed our ancestors to flee from the home world. And it was thanks to ruins and small data caches that they survived the Exodus. Who knows what we can learn from this beacon? What if it's a weapons archive? We can't let it fall into the wrong hands."

Shepard: "Like who?" And she added Apart from the usual scum. And definitely not any Mad Machines. Those barely have the computing power to exit the Veil.

Captain Anderson: "The Attican Traverse isn't the most stable sector of Citadel space. There are plenty of raiders and criminal groups active in the region. They might figure a Prothean beacon is worth the risk of attacking an Alliance ship. Plus, Eden Prime is right on the border of the Terminus Systems."

Might as well add 'everyone who isn't a Citadel member' while they are at it. Shepard again chose to not voice her opinions directly: "The Attican Traverse is under Citadel protection. If the Terminus Systems attack, it's an act of war."

Nihlus: "Technically, yes. But some of the species in the Terminus might be willing to start a war over this."

Captain Anderson: "The last thing the Council wants is to get dragged into a major conflict with the Terminus Systems. We have to keep this low-key."

I bet the main concern are the Batarians. State sanctioned pirate slavers would definitely find Prothean tech alluring. And wouldn't risk losing plausible deniability. Having already done sufficient speculation, Shepard returned to the mission at hand: "I'd like to know more about Eden Prime before we touch down."

Captain Anderson: "It's a peaceful farming world, but it represents something much bigger. Eden Prime is one of our oldest and most successful colonies. It proved we were ready to face the challenges of settling new worlds, to forge a place for humanity beyond the Veil. It symbolizes humanity's ability to adapt once more, to have grown and evolved beyond running away. And after this, it will be known as the world where humans made a discovery of galactic importance."

Shepard: "Just give the word, Captain."

Captain Anderson: "We should be getting close to Eden-."

His sentence was cut off by the intercom crackling to life, the distressed voice of Joker booming in the room: "Captain! We've got a problem."

I have a feeling it's more than just a technical malfunction Shepard immediately knew, as Joker would have baked in some teasing to all engineers, and not sounded almost desperate to reach the captain

Captain Anderson: "What's wrong Joker?"

Joker: "Transmission from Eden Prime, sir. You better see this!"

Captain Anderson: "Bring it up on screen."

Everyone immediately turned to look at the holographic projector on the room's end wall. Confused images of blueish streaks, smoke and rocks, filled it, followed by the deadly staccato of mass accelerators and a lone soldier. As they ran towards the camera, it became clear they were a she, clad in white Sirta Phoenix armour, with red details and streaks over it. The helmet wasn't fully closed, meaning at least there wasn't a CBRN situation.

"Get down!" she yelled at the cameraman, taking a few more shots at some distant target.

The camera then turned to show more of the battlefield, now a little greenery and trees and rocks becoming recognisable. But again, of the enemy no more than explosions and blue glows could be seen, as there was too much interference in the feed. Another few soldiers appeared, and now a male garrison officer was yelling directly to the camera, barely above the gunfire in the background: "We are under attack! Taking heavy casualties. I repeat: heavy casualties! We can't…" a danger close explosion rocked the camera, and caused the officer to yell in pain, as well as the camera footage being covered in ominous waves of blue glow "argh!... -eed evac! They came out of nowhere. We need-" suddenly the man fell down, and so did the camera. Now the shocked faces of nearby soldiers could be seen, having stopped firing, as some kind of high-pitched sound, and red hue took over the scene. The camera was turned to the grey sky, where from the smoke was emerging a black form, as if the hand from an eldritch god, red lighting between the fingers. Followed by what sounded like a mix between the blowhorn of Death, and sheer unending mass entering the atmosphere. But the camera couldn't dwell on it for long, and soon the feed became again a shaky mess, as the cameraman fought for his life between increasingly numerous blue streaks. Until the last image, that of their arm pointing towards the sky as they fell. Then, only static was left.

Joker: "Everything cuts out after that. No comm traffic at all. Just goes dead. There's nothing."

Ever the experienced man, Captain Anderson chose not to dwell on the shock, but instead find out who the enemy was: "Reverse and hold at 38.5."

Immediately the feed went back to the shape descending from space, the hologram trembling as if suffering from the enormous powers depicted. Even Nihlus showed some reaction, his external beard-like mandibles twitching for a moment. All three of them stood still for a few seconds, contemplating this terrifying sight.

How can a ship like that even exist? Much less enter atmosphere. And how could they overwhelm the defenders so easily. This is Eden Prime, the jewel of the Alliance! Before Shepard could start to imagine what horrors the colonists were being put through, Captain Anderson shattered the silence. "Status report!"

Even Joker took longer than usual to reply: "Seventeen minutes out, Captain. No other Alliance ships in the area. Not even the garrison or the local spacers."

Captain Anderson: "Take us in, Joker. Fast and quiet. This mission just got a lot more complicated."

Nihlus: "A small strike team can move quickly without drawing attention. It's our best chance to secure the beacon."

Shepard would have liked to shout at him, accuse him of having no heart or worse, not caring of the lives of human colonies. But even she was pragmatic enough to know that, with just the Normandy, they stood no chance. Not if the garrison hadn't. Their best hope was to deny their enemy their likely prize, and make the sacrifices of the defenders not be in vain.

"Grab your gear and meet us in the cargo hold." Came as a resigned order from Captain Anderson "Tell Alenko and Jenkins to suit up, Commander. You're going in."

She stared one last time at the shaking feed, wondering for the first time in her career, if they'd even make it out alive.

CODEX ENTRY

The Normandy

Few things represent Citadel ideals as much as the Normandy. Infact, it may even do so better than the Council itself. A marvel of engineering, it was born out of combined Human experience, Turian technology and, on the extra-Citadel Alliance members insistence, Quarian ingenuity. To the point the other powers envy it if only because of how easily it harmonises all the high-tech it's packed with. Of course, anyone with sufficient clearance would know most of it is rather mundane, marginally improved Alliance parts. What makes the Normandy unique, and the only reason the Turians agreeded to the project so soon after the war, is its revolutionary active stealth drive. Among its systems, the majority of those used are already well known, if of lesser quality, across Citadel space. Electromagnetic-absorbent coating, passive sensors, an array of survey drones controlled with tight-beam laser communication, and much more. But one type of radiation no technology had yet to appreciably reduce, were thermal emissions. The closest techs were smoke screens and decoys, but the former aren't exactly mobile, while the latter are the opposite of stealthy. Until the Normandy of course. Now, because of the laws of thermodynamics, it still produces excess heat, and in rather high quantities when under full power. Even if the ship was autonomous and the engine core far more efficient than it actually is, the constant need to convert energy would produce some. Which is why the stealth system isn't passive, but active.

The theory is actually rather simple. Instead of letting the excess heat radiate via thermal emissions, it is stored for a time in heat-sinks, which are emptied or replaced once the vessel is out of danger. It is conceptually no different than Mass Effect Drives static discharges. The Quarians in particular are experts in minimizing static charge build-up, since their ships aren't often welcome to discharge in inhabited systems. This was their major contribution to the project. It is all combined with an highly advanced gravity propulsion, the Tantalus drive, which creates mass concentrations the ship 'falls' into. In theory, such a drive could be spotted using gravity wave receptors, even if most lack such high sensitivity. Still, as a precaution doctrine dictates to 'drift' when close to the enemy, using it only to set up the necessary orbital maneuvers. Another issue, is the inability to hide FTL jumps, as the radiation blue-shift is too high for the IES system to compensate.

Much like a pre-nuclear age submarine had to resurface often to get fresh air and charge its batteries, the frigate can only remain in stealth mode for a few hours when under power, or days if powered down. Still, this is more than enough time to conduct danger-close scouting missions, squad deployments and all manner of spec-ops. Of course, never with any kind of loitering support.

DISCLAIMER: As you may notice, I originally wrote it as Shepard's internal monologue, before I even decided to follow the game as closely. I don't know if I'll do more codex entries like this. Definitely not on already canon Mass Effect lore. If I do, for Alternate lore, I'll attempt to do so more objectively, like the in-game codex entries.