A/N: Sorry to be late again. Still trying to find a house, and to find the things we need to live out of boxes at our friend's house. Shoutout to Anita Gale of the Space Settlement Design Competition; thanks, Anita. Not as much quality control time invested on this chapter (busy with other things; I expect to get off the Citadel fairly early in the next chapter.)

*** David Anderson ***

On the way up to Normandy's dock, a news report talked about some biotic terrorists taking over a compound, but the elevator reached dock 42-2 before they could really say anything of significance about it.

Striding along the platform, Shepard noticed no fewer than eight crews working on the ship exterior; all of them looked like they were in a hurry. He slid up to the edge of the railing and waited for his ARO to update him with the changes or repairs being made.

Several of the belly armor panels were being rewoven in place, and the #3 and #4 engines were having at least one of their three thrust vector rings replaced. That made him frown; it almost always meant they had purged or lost an eezo container.

His ARO put a callout on the armor and engines. Damage from ground fire, Eden Prime, it explained. The ship had taken quite a beating defending the colonists. He hoped they had been able to help them.

Turning his attention on the open hangar, he saw a jumbled mass of supplies were floating out in front of the gaping hangar door. Alliance stevedores in powersuits shuttled back and forth, pushing the palletized cargo ahead of them. The manifest appeared on the left side of his field of view; he read a few of the items as they scrolled by:

Restock - 240kg - CHON paste
Restock - 92kg - Metallipaste (omnigel, inactive)
Restock - 170kg - Omnigel paste (active)
Restock - 38kg - Poly paste and polymerising compositor
Replacement - 1x - D-50-CATx Molecular disassembler
Correction - 3x - BC4-2/6 Biodeconstructor culturing feedstock
New - 1x - G4 127/a Fuel pretreatment chamber lining cleaner
Replacement - 2x - MDS-12c Disassembly microdiscriminator and sorter
New - 1x - PGT-79/104mg Petronic Gravity Target

The rest of it looked like the usual consumables: ammoblocks, fresh water, fuel, scrubber fluids, molecular defolders, water filters, and so on. Turning to his right again, he continued to the gangway. As the ship was docked, the airlock cycled relatively quickly.

The boatswain VI announced, "XO Shepard is aboard. OD Pressly stands relieved."

Standing opposite the inner door was an orange-jumpsuited tech, arms full of cables and equipment. Overhead service panels dripped with cables and dangling modules. "Welcome aboard, sir."

Shepard's ARO put translucent callouts on the equipment, identifying the systems that were offline because of the work being performed. "Thanks. Looks like your team's got a short clock, Sergeant. Something I should know about?"

"Sorry, sir; I only have a task and a deadline. Whatever it's about, it just came down the pipe maybe an hour ago. Ship's being fitted with a new comm system."

That was a surprise. "We're what? Who approved that?" He lit his omnitool and checked his messages; not a word about it. The status board showed it, though he had to summon the app to see it, and a number of other changes to the ship and complement. And all of it appeared to have been authorized, but at levels of the Alliance he didn't usually see.

The tech shook her head. "I don't get asked, sir." She gave him a look that added, I get told. "But Air Boss actually stopped the resupply so Construction could drop new transmitters in. Your Comms Chief finished integrating it before the crane was even secured." The tech gave him a look of disbelief. "He said it was just an upgrade, but you must have some fire-breather computing aboard." As Shepard walked along Ops Alley, the tech followed, carrying her armload of devices and cables. "So you really don't know what it's about, sir?"

"I do not," Shepard answered, "but I think the Captain was about to inform me." He waved his omnitool briefly. "Maybe I should shut up and get to that meeting...but I can sometimes be really bad at taking good advice."

The tech stopped at one of the dark consoles and touched a control on it. As the overhead panel lowered with a servo buzz, she agreed, "Very good, sir."

# # #

As he continued aft, Shepard noticed that the chaos level seemed unusually high. Service panels were off practically every surface, temporary cables snaked their way across the deck, and people in bright orange jumpsuits were everywhere. It actually looked worse than the week before launch.

With a growing sense of urgency, he took the two cases down to his locker, secured the weapons, and headed back to the airlock.

SSGT K. Kobunde: Commander, do you have any special requests for stowage? We have some nonstandard equipment coming aboard, and I may have to improvise.

It wasn't often Shepard heard from the Loadmaster; he gestured for RTM. Send me a list of any interesting equipment, he subvocalized. Sorry I was out of the loop yesterday; one alien encounter and it seems like the whole world changed.

SSGT K. Kobunde: That's why I'm asking, sir. There is a 2-pallet crate for you. It's got a Council seal on it, and it's closed up as tight as the turian's gear. It doesn't show any hazardous material, but it makes me curious.

Can you park it someplace safe for now? I'll crack it open as soon as I can. Is it easy to spot?

SSGT K. Kobunde: It's two full pallets, sir. You could live in it. And it has Council markings all over it in five languages. I'll secure it forward of the FWS, at N72-74.

Got it. Thanks for the heads-up.

Shepard gestured for new RTM. Captain, there's a new comm system being installed, and I wasn't notified. There's also a bunch of new cargo that SSGT Kobunde can't scan.

CPT D. Anderson: Right, sorry. As a Spectre, you'll need a hotline to the Council, which requires new hardware. I didn't realise you were going to do anything other than drop off the quarian. Just come on up as soon as you can.

I'm on my way now, sir.

# # #

Assuming he had a minute or two to study the weapon more closely, Shepard drew the new pistol as the taxi door closed. He preferred a pistol for its quick-draw capability, and he found he could be more accurate, but had always felt that semi-auto was serious compromise. And yet this Spectre pistol felt almost magical in his hand.

He toggled the decompaction, aiming it down at the floor as it configured; it opened noticeably faster than anything he'd used before. With the same matte-black finish and ultramarine indicators as the sniper rifle, it seemed to be slightly grip-heavier than his Stiletto-IV. He turned his hand over, looking at the other side before releasing it to his SmartClip and drawing the new assault rifle.

Its heat sink was larger and lighter than he'd seen elsewhere. Gesturing for 4x acceleration, he VRSed the weapon to analyze it. The differences were technical and unusual, and his armor VI ran a quick search which revealed little that was informative from his current NetBite.

He squinted at it; interpreting this to indicate he did not understand, the armor VI sent a message up the p-net hierarchy to the omnitool, which routed the request to the Citadel's local network. Once he had been identified as a Spectre, classified data flowed with security warnings and updated encryption.

The technical briefing was prefaced with an abstract that told him what he wanted to know: exotic metamaterials beyond the capabilities of most microfacturing were required, but gave the weapon's linac a significantly higher efficiency for its weight. The exact specifications were in the article, but he waved it away and slowed to normal cognitive speed; the skycar was descending to the embassy's taxi landing threshhold.

Captain Anderson was standing next to the taxi caller as the door sprang open.

Shepard stepped out of the taxi and saluted. "Sir? Am I that late?"

Anderson answered the salute with amusement. "No, Udina's gone to one of the Councillors for a private meeting. I needed some air." He shrugged. "And I wanted a word with you before you hear it from him." He turned and started to walk back to the Embassy. Shepard walked with him across the foyer, watching his CO look uncomfortable. "A Spectre can't answer to anyone but the Council. I'm leaving Normandy."

"You're…what? You mean they're going to install some Council handler as Captain?"

"No, I mean you're going to get command of the ship. Congratulations are in order; this will be your first. I wish I could have given you more warning about it."

"I'd been meaning to ask you about that…I mean, about the mission, sir. I remember you'd told Alenko and me that we'd look back on this mission and be proud. And that you knew the Spectres wanted to have a look at me; you knew what Agent Nihlus was there for. Pressly reminded me that no one sends Spectres on shakedown flights. Even Joker was wise to this being bigger than it looked."

Anderson nodded as they climbed the stairs. "Yes, the signs were there, but I didn't know what was going to happen, so I couldn't say anything. I also had to keep it from you until the Council actually decided what to do. I sure didn't know it was all going to go to hell like it did. Oh, and when Udina tells you, don't tell him I told you already."

Anderson held up a hand to end the topic. "But we don't have time. We're trying to get you out there hunting Saren as quickly as possible. Because he's been doing this for so long, and been so trusted by so many, he's amassed significant resources, and an asset freeze on him just isn't going to stop him from doing a lot of damage. We've just got to stop him as quickly as possible. If it were up to me, I'd gun him down myself."

Shepard turned and looked at his Captain in surprise. Terminate With Extreme Prejudice sounded quite out of character for the man who had done his best to be a father to him. Though Anderson had been in command of the mission that had taken his father, the Captain had taken it for more personally than he had any right to. Neither Anderson nor Shepard's mother had ever told him the whole story, but Stephen knew that there was something being kept from him. He trusted both of them enough to let it be; it wasn't as if he could do anything about it now.

"That bad, sir?"

Anderson returned the look, nodded grimly. "That bad, Commander. You don't know Saren like I do."

Shepard looked away briefly, hesitating to bring up what was clearly a sensitive subject. "You and Saren have a history, sir. If you don't mind me asking…what happened?"

Anderson sighed as the doors to the embassy slid open for them. No one else was in sight. "I was in your shoes twenty years ago, Stephen. They were considering me for the Spectres." He strode across the entrance to the desk, pulled the chair out and sat down. "I was part of a mission to the Skyllian Verge. I was working with Saren to find and remove a known terrorist threat." He shook his head. "Saren eliminated his target. But a lot of people died along the way. Innocent people. And the official records just…covered it all up. But I saw how he operates. No conscience. No hesitation. He'd kill a thousand innocent civilians to end a war without a second thought."

"Killing innocents doesn't end wars. It causes them." Shepard folded his arms. "But truly, if I was confident that doing so would accomplish that…well, you're paying a thousand lives for…millions? Billions? Doesn't take algebra to figure that's about the best math you can hope for."

"I know how the world works." Anderson leaned forward on the desk. "Sometimes you're forced to make unpleasant decisions. But only if there's no other way. Saren doesn't even look for another option. He's twisted, broken. He likes the violence, the killing. And he knows how to cover his tracks."

"Or get the Council to do it for him?"

"Pick your battles." Anderson growled and changed the subject with a shake of his head. "I also have an update about Normandy," he said. "We just got a Mako APC." He checked himself, "I mean, you just got a Mako. It'll make your operations much faster and more efficient because you won't have to land the whole ship."

"Your idea, sir?"

Anderson seemed briefly reluctant. "Well, sort of. I'll have to take the credit and the blame. Normandy was originally spec'ed for a flyer, probably a Coyote or one of the new Kodiaks. But when the design was changed to make her perform better in ship-to-ship, there wasn't room for the infrastructure the Coyote needed. They were going to put in an M-29."

Shepard reacted. "That would have been nice to have on Eden Prime. What happened?"

"The Grizzly is well-armed and armored. But that makes them significantly heavier than a Coyote, even considering how much infrastructure you don't need in the hangar. On the other hand, the Mako is smaller, faster, and multi-role: APC, light tank, landing vehicle."

Shepard nodded. "Yeah…I read an article about it in Aviation Leak. The M-35 even adds a two-kilometer solid-fuel return booster. What happened?"

Anderson put on an elbow on the desk and leaned forward. "I got the project lead and her bureaucracy to replace the M-29 with an S-34." He nodded thoughtfully, "Remind me to tell you about how you can get more done over a burrito lunch with the Finance team than you can over a day wasted at golf with the so-called power brokers."

"I think you just did." Shepard deadpanned.

Anderson nodded and grinned. "Anyway, at first, the turian engineers were miffed. Seems they had been hoping for a look at the M-29. But one of them – an intern I think – pointed out that the M-35 could use much of the same support gear as the S-34. They were willing to let us use their facilities to build it, but it was going to take an extra couple of weeks to get on the schedule." Anderson shrugged. "All I had to do was get the support gear changed out by the time they were done. What could I say? If I wanted the Alliance to build it, it was going to be months of waiting." He shook his head sadly. "I didn't expect that not having it on a simple pick-up operation would be a problem."

Shepard sighed. "Well, I don't think it would have made a difference for Spectre Nihlus." He shook his head. "I hope they can fix him…"

"I wouldn't give that guy another thought. You did damned good by him. Anyway, I think the M-35 will work better for you on this mission." Anderson nodded confidently. "And your Spectre status will let you drop right into a situation without using local ITC, or having to play with planetary customs authorities." He paused for effect. "You have no idea how much time and headache that will save you."

"Sure I do…well, some of it. My job is to do part of your job so you don't have to do all of it. Or…at least it was. Now I get to do all of it." There was a momentary silence between them. Shepard studied the few awards that Anderson actually bothered to wear. He shook his head. "Not to be ungrateful, skipper…but this is a huge leap. And Normandy is supposed to be your boat. Why are they giving you the boot instead?"

"Aw, I've fought it for as long as I could, but when you get to having enough experience, the brass wants you to be able to spread that knowledge around, be at the places where big decisions are made. I was never going to command Normandy…not long term. Until the Spectre thing got dropped in our laps, I think they were going to assign her to Mikhailovich." He frowned as he looked away in thought. "It's fine by me, though; I'd rather take the XO spot somewhere nice and obscure. Do more teaching." He had a faraway look and a hint of a smile as he added, "Shape the next generation." He smacked the table decisively, stood and paced the length of the room. "But you will be officially out of my reach. Admiral Hackett is going to be your primary point of contact with the Alliance from now on."

"Hackett? What the hell, sir? Why not you? Or shouldn't it be one of the Admiral's staff?"

Anderson shook his head. "If you get requests from the Alliance, they will now be at very high levels of clearance, and only at the Admiral's discretion." He reached into a small alcove behind the desk and took the cup and saucer that had extruded into place there.

"It'll help you a lot," he continued. "The higher your access point, and less you have to officially interact with the Alliance, the less chance for security to be compromised, and for the brass to treat you like a Corsair they can just call down when they have some awkward problem they shouldn't have let happen in the first place. You will probably get a lot more of the strategic stuff that needs to be carried out quietly; heavy-briefing jobs, where context is important." He paused dramatically, made eye contact. "And you will be under no obligation to carry them out. As a Spectre, you answer to the Council, not the Alliance."

The door hissed open suddenly; Udina started to walk in, balked at the sight of the two men at his desk, and continued his entrance. "I have big news, Shepard. Captain Anderson is stepping down as Commanding Officer. You're being given command of the Normandy."

Anderson agreed, "She's quick and quiet, and you know the crew. Perfect ship for a Spectre. Treat her well, Commander."

Shepard broke off his next question, and played along. "I'll take good care of her, sir."

"I know you will, Commander." Both of them slipped easily into "formal mode" in the presence of others; it was something they had been doing for years. "But if I'm focused on Saren, handling a whole ship will be even more trouble. So why are you leaving, sir?"

Anderson shrugged. "As a Spectre, you need your own ship. And it's time for me to step down."

"I won't let you down, sir."

"Your primary task will be to find Saren," Udina put his hands behind his back and walked past the desk toward the balcony. "We don't know where he's gone. But we know what he's after: The Conduit. He's got his geth scouring the system looking for clues. We've lost contact with our colony on Feros, and there were reports of geth activity on Noveria..."

Shepard interrupted, "The reapers are the real threat."

Without looking back at the two soldiers, Udina shook his head. "I'm with the Council on this one, Shepard. I don't think they really exist."

Anderson said, "But if they do exist, the Conduit's they key to bringing them back. Stop Saren from getting the Conduit and we stop the Reapers from returning. But there are more geth than Saren; so start by looking where the geth are."

"That's why I want you to head for Feros," Udina continued.

Shepard looked to his Captain. "What's important about Feros?" His ARO started to display colony data; Shepard gestured for the device to hold it for later.

"The entire planet used to be a single, massive Prothean city," Anderson explained. "Mostly ruins now. But some of the infrastructure is still intact. The colony tried to build on what the Protheans left behind. We lost all contact with them when the geth attacked."

Shepard had his doubts about Udina's motivations. "What about this other place…Noveria?"

"Noveria's trouble," Anderson replied. "Always has been. The whole planet's basically a center for corporations to conduct illegal research. Watch your back there, Shepard. Spectres are about the only form of Citadel authority Noveria respects, but they aren't popular."

Shepard's ARO scrolled data about the various chartering corporations and their PR briefings. He gestured for it to hold that as well.

"Why would I look there, sir?"

"There's actual video of a geth. With Feros, there are reports, but nothing substantiated yet. It's weird. The colony going silent may simply be bad timing."

Shepard looked doubtful.

"We have one more lead," Udina said reluctantly. "Matriarch Benezia, the other voice in that recording. She has a daughter, a scientist who specializes in the Protheans. We don't know if she's involved, but it might be a good idea to try and find her…see what she knows. Her name's...Liara, Doctor Liara T'Soni. We have reports she was on an archaeological dig in the Artemis Tau cluster."

Shepard's ARO displayed a head shot of the asari, and records of the dig and its sponsoring university. "Sounds like the most solid lead of the three," Shepard mused, "At least I know what I'm looking for."

Anderson trusted his former XO's intuition. He nodded. "Finding Dr. T'Soni is the most indirect link to Saren. But it's your decision, Commander. You're a Spectre now. You don't answer to us."

Udina still wanted it done his way: Protect the colonists. "But your actions still reflect on humanity as a whole. You make a mess and I get stuck cleaning it up. If the colony on Feros is already in trouble…"

Shepard had already considered the added burden of Eden Prime and the toll it was surely taking on the Earth representative. "We're all in this together, Ambassador," he interrupted. "I'll try not to make things any more difficult for you."

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for, but it'll do. Remember, you were a human long before you were a Spectre." He glanced at his left arm with annoyance as his omnitool vibrated for attention. "I have a meeting to get to; Captain Anderson can answer any other questions you might have."

Shepard's ARO winked at him: Urgent: Command Transfer Ceremony in 30 minutes at Alliance Dock 42-2. Report immediately to assume command of SSV Normandy SR-1. Shepard looked at Anderson in shock.

"No, that's me," Anderson said to Shepard, "and we have to be there, too. I assume you're looking at me like that because you just got updated."

"All right then, come on, we'll share a taxi," Udina said.

He led the way out of the embassy, down stairs to the left and into the connecting chamber, and out the right-hand door to the parking lot.

# # #

Dearest family:

I'm sending this to all of you because I may be out of touch for a while. It's not a bad thing: I got a place aboard the newest Alliance ship I've ever seen. Father, you'll be pleased to hear we're hunting geth. I get to sleep in an actual pod, eat every day, and have access to the latest tech.

An Earth Alliance officer, the one who saved me from the Shadow Broker, must really like me, because he's fitted me with a new set of armor and updates to both my weapons. Tell Kal'Reegar I'm doing what he said and going with chameleon black. The other officer who's been helping me get settled in has been really friendly and informative, but she said I might not have access to the extranet all the time, and there might be security considerations, so I can't say much. This ship is just so beautiful and new, simply oozing with VOCs. I've never even dreamed of anything like it. I wish you could all see me now.

I miss you all very much, and if this is what a Pilgrimage is like, I can understand why people come back home as fast as they can, and why they sometimes don't bother to come back at all. Father, I'm attaching the data structure I found in the geth so you can start analyzing it right away. I hope you get as much from it as I think you will.

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya

# # #

As the taxi arced its way around the Presidium Ring, its occupants were missing the view.

"Sir, they can't do this," Shepard objected. "We just got posted. You're the CO…you haven't even finished unpacking; I've seen your quarters."

"You've seen your quarters," Anderson corrected, "And aren't you glad you won't be finding secret stashes." He raised a hand to prevent Shepard objecting further. "Forget it. We're done talking about this, Commander. I'll have my effects cleared out of your ship within two hours."

Udina was still facing forward, looking out the windshield but seeing nothing. "As a Spectre, you'll be glad to be light on your feet. Since you're taking the whole crew with you, just delegate the responsibilities out to your officers." He lit his omnitool and worked at it for a moment. "Your Navigation Officer looks like he was being groomed for an XO position anyway; if I were you, I'd pull him up behind you. You also have another First Lieutenant, Alenko. He seems quite reliable. You should make the most of him."

Shepard looked toward the ambassador, then at Anderson, who shrugged. "Thank you, sir; I'll keep that in mind."

Anderson nodded decisively at Shepard. "Whatever happens, I'm proud of you, son." He paused, sighed heavily. "And damn it all to hell, I wish Dane could have seen this. He'd just explode with pride."

Shepard winced inwardly, smiled faintly out the window. "Yeah, I know. But thanks for saying so."

As his VI passed on some information to him, Udina spoke to Anderson, "Looks like you got your Command Transfer Ceremony approved…and the turians are sending a representative. It certainly was at the last minute. Looks like we'll be arriving just in time, though."

Shepard turned to look out the window. "And the crew's already dockside."

As the taxi slid up to the dock, Shepard could hear the Alliance anthem, Per Aspera Ad Astra, being played by the dock band. Bright brass and mother-of-pearl gleamed and flashed in the directed light that the dock crew had aimed at the Alliance band. As the final bars of the song were played, a row of six soldiers with ceremonial black powder firearms raised their weapons in salute, firing together, manually reloading the ancient bolt-action weapons with another salvo of blanks, and firing again; they discharged a three-round salutes for the Captain and the ambassador as they approached the dais with Shepard following.

The crew rose from their seats at a command barked by Navigator Pressly, saluting the Alliance ensign. As they stepped up onto the dais, Shepard and Anderson stopped and saluted; Udina crossed the stage with the hum, hiss, and occasional warning horn of the Alliance dock filling the silence.

Stopping behind the lectern, the ambassador looked left, and right, and then said, "Thank you very much. I know you're all working hard to stay on schedule, so I'll be as brief as possible. Please be seated."

Pressly's voice was crisp, "Paraaade REST!"

The crew remained standing, but attentive; the three guests in the front row – Tali the quarian and two turians Shepard didn't recognize - took their seats. Udina looked at the standing crew with momentary consternation, then touched his omnitool, read from its display. "This is a notable day in the history of humanity; we have earned a Spectre agent, and recognition by the galactic community as a force to be reckoned with. You should all be very proud of Captain Anderson, who in many ways made it possible. I'll let your commanding officer tell you more, but your new mission is time-sensitive." He looked to his right as he stepped away from the podium. "Captain Anderson?"

David Anderson strode across the dais, stopping just past the podium, between Udia and the crew. Hands clasped behind his back, he paced he stage, giving the impression he was thinking aloud. "All right, here's the deal: To succeed, you need to know the truth, but this is for your ears only, at least for the moment. Eden Prime was attacked by Saren Arterius, a former Council Spectre. He was using geth, a type of AI. We're not sure how or why, but he attacked one human colony, so we know he's a threat to all of them. Although the Council has revoked Saren's status, he is still very much a threat to humans, especially with his geth help."

He stopped and turned, facing the crew. "Commander Shepard has been asked to join the Spectres, and find Saren. As the ambassador said, this is a momentous event, but it is also a serious one. You may be going places where humans have never been, and where you may not be welcomed. Or you may simply be misunderstood. I will be counting on each and every one of you to be expert, professional, and vigilant when on duty. We are the newcomers here; as I've said before, the asari were discovering the Citadel when Emperor Yang was plotting to kill his father. With each alien you meet, remember: You are the alien, you are the noob."

He paused, looking meaningfully at the gathered crew. "I've been part of the Systems Alliance for over thirty years, and when I was asked to assemble a crew for Normandy, I called on the very best and brightest people I've worked with. You didn't have time to get to know each other when we went to Eden Prime, but you all performed admirably, especially considering the circumstances. I want you to know your work was exemplary, and I've recommended each of you for citations. You saved the colony on Eden Prime, and it has been a privilege and an honor to serve with each and every one of you."

He turned crisply to his right, and made eye contact with Shepard. "I am ready to be relieved."

Shepard stepped torward Anderson, and lit his omnitool. "Bureau of Alliance Personnel Order Number 2287-18/121 to Captain David Anderson. When directed by reporting officer, detach in January 2183 from command of SSV Normandy and report not later than March 2183 to Systems Alliance Headquarters, Vancouver. Upon arrival, report to Admiral Jane Mumford for assignment. Report immediate superior in command, if present, otherwise by message. Signed, Vice Admiral Reza Sandeghi, Chief of Fleet Personnel."

Shepard rendered the most exact and meaningful salute he could. "I relieve you, sir."

Anderson emulated Shepard's salute, and nodded his approval so faintly that only the two of them knew he had done so. "I stand relieved."

Shepard managed to keep his face expressionless, but his ARO had a surprise for him. D. Udina: You should display the Council markings now. Shepard's gaze jumped quickly from Anderson to the Alliance pin on the Captain's collar, the ensign on Normandy's portside hull, Udina, and then Pressly. Reading from his ARO prompt, he broke his salute. "Break the Council pennant."

Pressly looked at the ambassador as well, then at his omnitool, and adjusted it. "Aye, sir."

The five-arm Council ensign appeared under the Alliance flag, animated as if actually unfurling like a flag, trailing the Spectre insignia.

Shepard moved to the podium and spent a moment looking at the small crew of his first command, feeling an emotional chaos of pride, loss, and an uncertain future. "I've known Captain Anderson most of my life, and when he says you're the best crew he's ever had, I believe him…and I'm deeply honored. He leaves some mighty big shoes to fill, but I will do my best to be worthy of your respect. It will be my privilege to serve as your commanding officer, and I'm confident we can find Saren and bring him to justice.

"All standing orders, regulations, and instructions remain in effect. Lieutenant Pressly, take charge and dismiss the ship's company."

As the de facto XO dismissed the crew, Shepard turned and walked briskly off the dais. Three-round gun salutes sounded from the other end of the dock for Udina and Anderson, and Shepard's ARO informed him that the third gun salute was for the new CO of Normandy.

He glanced at Captain Anderson and slowed his pace just a bit. I have to be the Captain now, he thought carefully. "Pressly, what's the word on the refit and repair timetable?"

The navigator consulted his omnitool, made an adjustment, read from it again. "Dockmaster says it'll be four more hours…and stay the hell out of her way or it'll be six." He looked up at Shepard and half-grinned.

Shepard looked called up the Event Scheduler on his ARO. "I still need another couple of hours here. Sounds like there's no chance of us getting underway before 2100; put the crew at liberty until 2030 hours. Asymmetry permitted, max ten kilos accrual, no packout." He glanced over his shoulder at the crew re-boarding the ship. "It's not a lot of time, but it's something."

"Three hours' liberty, asymmetry, ten kilos, no packout. Aye sir."

"And no kidding: anyone not back by 2030 gets docked two weeks' pay."

Pressly's eyebrows rose. "Will do, sir."

I have to pick up the quarian's weapons and see if I can get to the Spectre Office, Shepard thought. His ARO's display of the ship's status winked off, and then began to repopulate with the CO's even busier list. Walking toward the dock's personnel lift, he began to select items from the list and flick them toward the names of the appropriate personnel.

"Commander!" said a voice as footsteps announced someone running up behind him. He dimmed the ARO display with a gesture and looked over his shoulder to see WO-2 Rosamund Draven and Tali. "Sir, I wanted to congratulate you," Draven saluted as she came to a stop. "Talitha and I are just super-proud of you."

Shepard had answered the salute immediately. "Thank you, Rosamund; it's a big day for the whole human race." He resumed his walk stationward. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, sir. First, please don't call me Rosamund. No one does that except my mother...and Tal when she's mad...just call me Roz. Second, contractor Tali'Zorah asked if we could go back to the shop and pick up her weapons if you hadn't already, but she also said you had said you were going to go. We'd be happy to go pick those up for you if you have something else more pressing."

"That's…thoughtful of you, Roz. In fact, I have a number of other things to take care of before we can depart, and if you would handle that one, I'd appreciate it."

"Glad to be of service, sir," she smiled.

As the three of them approached the personnel lift, Shepard noticed Anderson and Udina further along the slip, talking as they walked toward the place where the taxi had taken him and his team to the embassy. Anderson happened to look over his shoulder just then and make eye contact; he nodded approvingly before stepping through the door and out of sight.

"Mind if we share your lift?"

Shepard looked toward Roz before realizing she was speaking to the lift's occupants, not to him. The two turians who had been sitting in the front row during the Transfer Ceremony looked up. His ARO added DisplaiD info: Nasinth Yttrius, military attachée; Etric Pliny, turian ambassador.

"Commander Shepard," the ancient-looking Pliny spoke deliberately, articulating each word. "Why…it would be an honor." He took a generous step back to make room for them. "A great honor indeed."

Shepard's ARO added, Expression indicates Surprise.

"Thank you…uh…ambassador." Shepard stepped into the lift far enough that Tali and Rosamund had space. "In fact, I'm glad to have this opportunity to meet you in person. I suspect you were largely responsible for making possible both the construction of Normandy and my appointment to the Spectres." He bowed slightly at the waist. "I'm very honored to meet you."

"Indeed," answered Pliny, "then allow me to introduce my keeper, Nasinth Yttrius. (He pronounced it, "ee-TREE-us.") She's had a direct hand in today's adventures, Commander. It was she whom your ambassador and Captain ambushed this afternoon, and it is she whom you should really be thanking." The turian put a hand to his mouth and removed a medical appliance; Shepard's ARO identified it as a device for demodulating his voice to make it sound more human. "Forgive me, Commander. This thing's been bothering me all morning." He regarded it with annoyance, and slipped it into a pocket.

There was an almost-awkward pause as he glanced at Shepard, the other human, the quarian, and then down at the glass-edged floor as if searching for something. He growled under his breath and shook his head absently as one claw curled and uncurled.

The other turian glanced at Shepard. "Commander, on behalf of the Turian Heirarchy, I'd like to extend my personal–"

"Stop!" Pliny held up a three-digit hand with a wheeze, "This is my responsibility, and by the spirit of my house, I will be responsible for it!" Lowering his hand, he straightened and turned to face Shepard directly. It still seemed something of an effort for the turian to speak. "Commander, I suspect you are not fully aware of the significance of your actions on Eden Prime. But what you did there will reverberate throughout the Heirarchy for years to come."

The older turian glanced up at Shepard briefly, then back at the deck. "Kyrick Nihlus is an esteemed member of the Spectres, a nephew of a prominent member of the Parliament, and a dear friend of my own. I've known his family since before his parents met, and the day he became a Spectre was one of the proudest moments of my life."

Spectre Agent Nihlus Kyrick is the grandson of former MP Etric Pliny, scrolled out Shepard's ARO. He kept his expression neutral.

Pliny looked up at Shepard, though it was apparent he was struggling to keep his composure. "On that memorable day, I marked the five-year anniversary of the death of two of my children in the Relay 314 Incident, and I swore a mighty oath that young Nihlus would be the instrument of my revenge against the humans."

Yttrius looked anxiously from her ambassador to the human and back.

The older turian took a step toward Shepard, who stood his ground. "The first report I heard from your colony on Eden Prime…was that young Nihlus had been killed while taking a human…into his charge as a Spectre trainee. I assumed you were the trainee and your incompetence or malice the cause." Though the turian's talons curled slowly into fists, Shepard's ARO did not warn him of an impending fight. He gestured for 2x acceleration...just in case.

"So when the name Shepard first crossed my mouth, it was the subject of a collection of curses and epithets that would make a batarian think it had gone too far." One hand rose – slowly by Shepard's perception – and a talon extended, but toward the turian's own cranial foreplate, and tapped it thrice. "And now I hear that it was only because of your actions that young Nihlus...survived. And even more to my horror, it was Saren Arterius - the legendary turian Spectre - who tried to kill him."

Shepard kept his attention on the talons. Turians were lethal predators on their homeworld; those talons could make short work of an unarmored human.

Pliny sighed, almost seemed to wither. Looking away and out the window as the lift descended to the C-Sec atrium, he said, "I have misjudged your species, Commander, and grossly misjudged you; I owe you an apology. I had intended your planet for...megadeath, and you have repaid me...with a life, one I value even above my own." He looked up again, his cranial plates arranged oddly.

Expression indicates regret, apology, emotional conflict, said Shepard's ARO, putting a callout on the alien expression.

"You have plucked my grandson from the grave…and returned him to me." The words came out softly, "I do not know how much more life I have, Commander, but if there is ever anything I can do to repay you for this, you have but to ask." The talon came up once more; the turian tapped his own forehead once, and then carefully tapped Shepard's. "This debt I claim publicly."

The lift doors growled open; Pliny turned away and walked out as if nothing unusual had happened. Yttrius watched him, then turned her head to Shepard. She blinked once as if dumbfounded, and then turned quickly away, flanking the elder statesman.

Shepard looked toward Rosamund and Tali, and then looked after the departing turians. It took him almost five seconds to think of what to say. "Right, then. Let's just…pretend that didn't happen. Things are weird enough." He stepped out of the lift and away toward the taxi stand.

They waited until he was out of earshot.

"That didn't sound like a direct order to me," Roz mused quietly.

"I'm not in the human military, so I know it wasn't an order to me," Tali said.

Rosamund smiled. "I can see we are going to be good friends."

*** Glossary ***

accrual: In the context of shore leave, accrual refers to souvenirs, consumables, and other chattels purchased, won, or otherwise acquired by individual crew members

asymmetry: When ashore, Alliance crews travel in groups of three. Since the number of crew ashore may not be evenly divisible by three, officers with records demonstrating sufficient decorum are allowed to travel in pairs to make the numbers work

ARO: Augmented Reality Overlay

Aviation Week and Space Technology: Originally founded in 1916, but landing its current title only in 1960, this magazine-turned-service is infamous for its dogged and thorough journalists, so proactive in their research that news often escapes companies before intended, hence the epithet, "Aviation Leak and Space Mythology"

CHON: Carbon Hydrogen Oxygen Nitrogen, feedstock paste for food printers

FWS: Fabrication Workshop, where the MFO lives. Everything on the ship that can be manufactured or reassembled ends up visiting the FWS, from lipsticks to small arms to engine parts. The FWS runs almost around the clock, even supplying consumables in some cases; nanotech helps, but even elements are made of the same subatomics; picotech should be the next big step: turning anything into anything else at will

ITC: Interplanetary Traffic Control; within a megameter of its surface, planetary or colonial governments have authority to deny landing permission, including any other bodies within that space, as well as the responsibility to provide emergency services, designate ascent and descent corridors, and so on

MFO: Master Fabrication Officer

packout: to take a duffel or footlocker or other storage item ashore, usually for purposes of bringing back more than was taken from the ship, or for removing contraband from it. Practice arose from attempts to confuse the boatswain VI into thinking a crew member was departing the ship

short clock: scheduling analogue of a "blivit," a short clock is a week's worth of work to do in twenty minutes, or some similarly impossible feat

VOC: Volatile Organic Compounds, a by-product of mass-production and additive microfacturing; the result is also known as "new car smell."

VRS: Virtual Reality Simulation, requires a voxel scan first, but provides a way to examine unfamiliar equipment without actually examining it; works better in conjunction with cognitive overclock.