Acronyms:
WSO – Weapon Systems Officer ("Wizzo")
MRE – Meal, Ready to Eat (also known informally as "Meals Rarely Edible", "Meals Rejected by the Enemy", "Meals Refusing to Exit", etc.). The "vomelet" MRE had a reputation of being particularly bad-tasting.
AMC – Alliance Material Command
COB – Chief of the Boat
CHAPTER III: AN UNEXPECTED GUEST
Commander Shepard's second day aboard had somehow been more exhausting than the first, Lieutenant Alenko thought. They had executed simulations until late in the evening, where all sorts of engagements and scenarios had been thrown at them. Space combat, fire support, infiltration, extraction, scouting, intelligence collection – anything that the Normandy was anticipated to perform, and a few that she wasn't.
The same SIMSUP had been back, and Alenko had thought there would have been a problem, given the disagreements that he had with Shepard on the first day. But to the lieutenant's surprise, the O-5 could actually be called friendly with the crew on the second day. He was even cordial with Shepard, in stark contrast to the cold, standoffish attitude from their first afternoon.
The entire crew had performed remarkably well, and while a couple mistakes were made in these rather difficult sims, they were used as learning experiences by the SIMSUP, and not a chance to tear people new orifices. They had resumed sims today in the afternoon, as the crew had spent this morning fine-tuning electronics, a never-ending task on naval vessels. What's that law about work and time, again? Something-son's Law? the lieutenant asked himself idly.
Additional stores had been brought on board, and now the ship was at full load for a combat deployment. They could depart in as little as an hour from the order, yet their shakedown cruise wasn't to begin for another week and a half. Usually fresh rations were the last items brought on board.
However, he still found his mind returning to the tactics used during the seventh and final simulation two nights before. After a discussion by the command crew about how to start a particular engagement, the Normandy had opened fire on the enemy ships while the stealth ship had been exactly between the hostiles and the system's star. It had taken quite a bit of maneuvering to accomplish due to the vastness of even an M-class star system, but it had paid off. A couple of the ships had reacted to this new threat and turned to engage the Normandy, but the sensors chief, backed up by Shepard, had stated that the star's radiation would mask the signatures of their weapons discharge, or at the very least confuse the enemy sensors for a few seconds.
When the simulation team had objected to that tactic working, the commander had kept her tone reasonable, and had tagged-teamed with the sensors chief a detailed explanation of what the passive ship sensors would detect in such a scenario. The WSO, Pressly, Alenko, and Joker had soon been drawn into the discussion as well, at the insistence of the commander. At the end of drills yesterday, the SIMSUP had departed with a preliminary information with rough parameters for firing weapons when backlit by a star from the Normandy crew, which could be used in future drills. The fact that the crew as a team had thought up such a tactic on the fly gave Alenko confidence that they could take on any new scenario that any SIMSUP could ever conjure up.
All in all, the staff lieutenant felt extremely confident with this crew. They had run a few scenarios with Anderson as CO a few days earlier, and they had performed flawlessly. They had now spent the better part of three days running sims with Shepard commanding, and they had performed excellent with her in charge as well. They might just give the bad guys a hard time…whoever the bad guys might be. Pirates, slavers, or…someone else?
Joker and Kaidan began powering down their consoles after they finished the last sim for the day. "Shit," the pilot muttered. "I never thought I'd say this, but I actually want to not be sitting right now. Or at least, not sitting in this damned seat."
"Given all they spent on this ship, you'd think they'd have a spent a few credits here and there on a few creature comforts," the staff lieutenant agreed.
"Like splurge for some leather, at least," the pilot grumbled. "Hell, I'd even settle for fake leather."
"That'll be the day," Alenko chuckled, then paused. "I hadn't seen many of those sims before."
"The old ones were getting too easy," Joker said with a snort. "And the commander did a pretty damned good job as acting CO," the pilot added.
"Yeah," Alenko replied evenly. "She did."
"What do you think of her?" Joker asked.
"She's been on the ship for not even three full days. Can't really say much," Alenko said cautiously, looking aft to make sure she was clearly out of sight and therefore out of earshot. She was. "Seems professional and competent enough."
"Doesn't seem stuck up about her fame at all. I had figured someone with that shiny seven-pointed platinum star, with all those interviews and 'special articles', to be full of herself," the pilot responded. "But she's pretty down to earth, despite getting up at zero dark thirty every morning. I'm up early to plant my ass to the pilot's seat, but she gets up long before I do. Officers that get up that early are normally hardasses."
"What makes you say that, Flight Lieutenant?" a soft feminine voice asked from behind them.
Alenko nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound, as he hadn't even heard her approach. "Just an observation, Commander," Joker replied.
"An observation about what?" she asked. To Alenko's surprise, Shepard walked up to the left side of the cockpit, where she could see both of them, just a couple meters from his seat as she turned to face both sitting officers.
"That officers that get up early are hardasses," Joker answered. In comparison to the lieutenant next to him, the pilot didn't seem all that concerned.
Kaidan was afraid to even look at his XO after being caught gossiping about her, but she now stood in his peripheral vision, and he instinctively turned his head to look at her. To his great surprise, she didn't look upset or angry at all. Indeed, the corners of her lips were pulled up into a slight grin, and she actually looked amused as she crossed her arms. "Joker, do you want to know the real reason I've been waking up so early?"
"You're building pullup bars in the cargo hold?" Joker replied.
Shepard chuckled at his answer. "Two days ago I was in a time zone where Lima and Zulu were the same," she answered.
Alenko found himself rather grateful that she seemed amused that they had been caught talking about her behind her back rather than angry. "Ouch. London, I take it, ma'am?" he asked with a wince.
She nodded her head. "London. It's made for a long couple days. It will be nice just to get the ship onto Zulu time and settle into a normal shift routine. Well, as normal a routine that we could get on a prototype ship," she finished with a shrug, pausing, then her face broke into a grin again as she looked back to Joker. "And also I was building pullup bars in the cargo hold," she teased.
"Don't tell me that the loser of a pullup contest has to eat all of the vomelet MREs?" Joker said with a frown.
She winced at the thought. "No. I'm not cruel, and that's especially cruel. Also, never challenge a biotic to pullups – they're trivial for us since we can lower our mass," she replied, finishing with a grin.
Alenko glanced to the side to fully glimpse his XO. She wore service dress again today just like her first day aboard, as she had gone ashore this morning for something or another. Yesterday, she had worn the standard on-ship "jumpsuit" that consisted of a t-shirt and fatigue pants that crew normally wear aboard ships, and while that attire wasn't particularly flattering on anyone, she had still somehow managed to look cute. He looked back to his displays, and he forced such thoughts out of his mind. That was no way to think about a superior officer, his XO, or certainly not about Commander Shepard. The woman to his left was in all three categories.
"I didn't get a chance to say this to you both yesterday, but you've done tremendous work the last three days now. They threw some tough ones at us, and you both really came through. We would have failed many more times without you," she said.
Shepard's voice shook Alenko out of his musings. "It took all of us to get through a few of those scenarios," he commented, then paused for a moment. "You did pretty well commanding a new, unfamiliar ship, ma'am."
"You all would have done just fine without me." She paused, her expression changing as she looked to lapse into deep thought.
"You handled that difficult SIMSUP pretty well, Commander. He nearly blew a gasket two days ago," Alenko replied cautiously.
"He did have a…high-decibel approach to conflict resolution," she said with a quick laugh.
"You don't have that approach, Commander?" Joker asked with an amused look on his face.
She shook her head and replied, "No. It's not really my style." Her smile faded, transitioning again into that same look of contemplation. "Still, I'm a bit surprised that Captain Anderson didn't act as CO for any of these sims the past few days," she said as her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Yeah, he's barely been on board," the pilot commented. "I figured they would have him be CO for several of these new sims."
Shepard nodded and sighed. "Why…why do I get the feeling this was all some sort of test?" she asked quietly, her unfocused gaze quickly shifting past both of them to a console. A test for…me? her mind thought.
The pilot laughed and replied with his usual snark. "Yeah, tests. That's what sims are, Commander."
Shepard chuckled quietly in amusement. "Ouch. Touché. I walked right into that." She then paused for a couple seconds. "Though I was wondering why all these sims now? Instead of final testing and fitting out? With…well, with all the commotion at the embassy?" she asked softly.
"You mean you haven't been told what's been causing all of the elected idiots – I mean officials – to run around like they lost their pants?" the pilot said, still amused that she took all of his gossip and comments in stride.
Layla Shepard giggled at the comment, to the great surprise of both lieutenants present, who both shared a quick glance of disbelief. That was a sound they never thought could ever be heard from Commander Shepard. "They're politicians," she said as she giggled. "They never had their pants on to begin with," she finished as she continued to laugh.
Both men laughed at the quick wit from the commander. "That would certainly explain why they never get anything done!" the pilot responded in an exaggerated expression, as if coming to major revelation. "Well, I guess it's more efficient that way. Saves them time having to always take them off," he finished with a shrug.
Alenko couldn't help but chuckle in amusement, both at the conversation and its participants. He never would have expected Commander Shepard, of all officers, to participate in such deriding discussions.
The commander grinned at both lieutenants, then she looked to her side towards the airlock in an exaggerated, conspiratorial expression. "I am so glad none of them are around to hear us." Her grin faded after a quick second. "Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough what is going on," she finished softly.
"You haven't been briefed on anything, Commander?" Joker asked her.
She shook her head. "Nope." She momentarily pursed her lips and looked down. "Though I have a couple hypotheses." She looked up to gaze into Alenko's eyes, seemingly remembering what he had told that first afternoon her two days ago.
"Yeah," Kaidan responded, holding her gaze for a moment before looking back down at a console. He couldn't help but speculate what her musings on the matter were, wondering if they were the same as his own.
After a couple moments of silence, where each officer pondered their own thoughts, Shepard continued, "I sent a message to Captain Anderson to see if he would allow us to go ashore tomorrow evening. Hopefully it's approved—you all deserve it. I'm buying the first round," she said with a grin.
"Can't say no to that!" the pilot exclaimed.
At that moment the commander's omni-tool communicator went off. "Speaking of Captain Anderson, guess who it is." She opened the link and said, "Sir."
Captain Anderson's voice came through clearly through the 'tool. "Commander, there's been a hold up getting some last minute supplies onto the Normandy. Let's just say it's complicated. I know it sounds silly, but we need to get those stores on board tonight."
"What kind of supplies, sir?" she asked, her brow slightly furrowing in confusion.
"I'll explain later. I would normally bludgeon my way through the paperwork, but you're going to need to take this one," he said. "Forwarding the information to you now."
Her omni-tool beeped and she opened the message, scanning it in a couple seconds, and her brow furrowed even further. "Got it, sir. I'll….take care of it now," she said, her hesitation conveying her obvious puzzlement.
"How did the drills go today?" the CO asked.
"Excellent, sir," she replied, and even though it was an audio-only call, her face broke into a smile. "The crew performed marvelously."
"Glad to hear it," was the response.
"Sir, given how they've performed the past three days, I would like to request liberty for the crew tomorrow evening," she stated formally.
"Sorry I didn't respond to your earlier message about liberty. Unfortunately, it will have to wait for a few days," came the response from the Captain.
The pilot heard a barely audible, brief sigh from the commander. "Understood, sir," she replied, disappointment evident in her voice.
"Get those supplies on board, Commander," the captain ordered.
"Aye aye, sir." The line went dead.
She sighed, looking down at the floor for a couple moments, seemingly pondering what she had been told. She then looked up to the two seated officers. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "Looks like no leave for tomorrow night." Her expression then changed to one in deep thought as she furrowed her brow again.
It was Joker who broke the silence. "Supplies? You're running off to get supplies on board?" he asked skeptically with a raised eyebrow.
She shrugged. "I…guess so," she said softly, hesitantly, her eyes staring out the windows at the helm, either deep in thought about the sudden importance of these supplies, or pondering the countless hues of white and gray of the drydock outside. Alenko would have bet a fair amount of credits on the former.
"I thought the Navy stopped crossing the line a few decades ago. I already have peg legs. If I had known the ceremonies were back on, I would have brought a tub of lard, a riding crop, and a rubber chicken," Joker said.
Shepard giggled in response, then turned serious after several heartbeats. "Your guess on what these supplies are is as good as mine. I suppose I'm the errand girl for the evening." She shrugged, then her face broke into a slight scowl. "Maybe it's as simple as needing someone famous to get past whatever the holdup is."
"I take it you're not a fan of the fame, Commander?" Alenko asked, regretting asking the question a moment later. Of course she wasn't a fan of the fame, if her current expression was anything to go by. Idiot.
"I hate it," she replied quickly, her frown turning into a look of disgust. "I just want to do my job and not worry about the reporters breathing down my back. At least the Press Corps mostly keeps them at bay…well, most of the time." She half-slid, half-stood from the console and straightened her skirt, her expression softening as she looked to the two lieutenants. "Sorry to cut this short, gentlemen. If I figure out what's in those stores, or…whatever is going on with…well, the intelligence folks, I will certainly let you both know. Thanks again for chatting." She walked quickly towards the airlock, and several seconds later she left the ship.
Both men turned to look at each other for a few seconds, having nearly identical thoughts. Both were surprised at the commander's personality, even though information had spread from those who had served with her that she was very easy to work with and not stuck up as a result of her fame.
However, while they both thought about the commander, the primary topic on both of their minds was why the entire crew, including the XO, was being kept completely in the dark.
As soon as the line clicked dead, Captain Anderson removed his omni-tool and re-entered the secure room where his newest cabal was meeting. He took his seat and glanced at each of the other men present.
Everything was now nearly ready. He had just assigned Commander Shepard to pick up the turian rations for the last individual that would be boarding the Normandy. The rations had experienced a hold-up getting through AMC, which, given that they were turian rations, shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone. The easy solution: send a famous officer off to deal with it. It would be quite simple for the commander; after all, no one wanted to hold up the Heroine of the Blitz from getting supplies needed for the brand-new SSV Normandy, regardless of what those supplies might be.
"Well?" the captain asked the assembled quorum. They were now ready to make the final decision after the drill results from the last three days.
"The SIMSUP passed on his reports. Under the deliberately difficult circumstances we placed her in, she performed excellently," a second man spoke up. "And she did exactly what you said she would, Captain," he continued, his tone possessing a near-imperceptible, grudging respect. "The sim crew had a crewmember make a minor mistake in a scenario, and the SIMSUP proceeded to berate the crewmember. Shepard immediately jumped in, covering for the error of her crew. The lieutenant commander took the blame for all mistakes made by her subordinates."
"As I mentioned," the captain said with a trace of smugness in his voice to the second man, "she always stands up for her crew. That doesn't escape the crew's notice, and their performance increases as a result."
"The tactics that the crew developed were rather brilliant. In that scenario, they're supposed to hide and stalk the targets. Instead, they attack and destroy the enemy ships," a third man said as he looked down to the display on the desk. "Of all the time spent working out tactics with this new ship, the crew comes up with a new one on the fly. Hell, the crew gave software updates to the sim guys to use in the future." He shook his head ever so slightly, a barely perceptible grin on his face, echoing the thoughts of everyone else around the room. Why had no one thought of that before?
"You are comfortable giving her command of the Normandy in a few weeks?" the second civilian asked Anderson.
"Yes," Anderson replied.
"You said she suspected that she is going to be asked to be a Spectre?" the first civilian asked the captain.
"By now, she's certainly figured it out. She's smart, and two days ago she asked if she was going to be selected for a 'position'. She's doubtlessly heard of the commotion at the embassy. Add in the ambassador's public push towards admitting a human into the Spectre ranks…she knows. Frankly, with all the publicity on the topic, probably the whole crew has figured it out by now," Anderson replied.
"No idea why the embassy even wants to keep it such a secret," the second man muttered with a slight snort.
"Is she ready for the scrutiny?" a fourth man asked, turning to Anderson.
"Yes, Admiral," Anderson responded. "While she certainly doesn't enjoy it, she dealt with it after the Blitz, and continues to deal with it on occasion. She's dealt with the scrutiny, and this position, while very real, will carry some associated ceremony. She can handle it," he said confidently, though his gut didn't quite feel the same way. She had faced public scrutiny before, but nothing at the level of being the first human Spectre.
Admiral Hackett held Captain Anderson's piercing gaze, one of the few men that could. The admiral had his own intense stare as well, the two men saying no words. Their faces exchanged many nonverbal cues and thoughts, something only that years of working together could convey. Finally the admiral nodded after several seconds. "I'll trust your judgment, Captain."
Though no other words were conveyed between the two officers, their expressions contained far more substance. The two civilians in the room, despite being briefed on practically everything in the Alliance, had no idea of the unspoken exchange between their two colleagues of this second "cabal."
The men continued to discuss everything about Commander Shepard deep into the night. Despite the fact that the commander had already been reassigned as XO, and the Joint Chiefs had concurred with the recommendation from several days ago, these two senior parliamentarians wanted a final say.
At the end of the discussion, Admiral Hackett asked, "So we're all in agreement?"
Everyone present in this cabal nodded in the affirmative.
"I'll make the calls," Hackett said. His second call would be to the Prime Minister of the Systems Alliance Parliament. However, his first would be to the Ambassador to the Citadel Council.
Lieutenant Alenko would be spending this morning working with a couple members of the ground team of the Normandy. He wanted to make sure they could protect and defend themselves against biotic attacks. They could practice with small arms with only a little setup, as it took less than five minutes to set up the range in the cargo hold. However, the thick pads they set on the floor and part of a side wall took longer to install, in addition to the "targets" covering themselves completely in thick foam pads for protection. Learning to take the hits from biotic attacks, and not being afraid of them, was the first step in countering a biotic. After that, they would work on specific ways to gain an advantage over a biotic in a fight.
Kaidan didn't like having to use his biotics on a fellow Alliance crewman, even with his exceptional control. He knew exactly what would happen if he lost control of his abilities, and if it ever happened again, he wanted it to happen against a hostile.
Richard Jenkins, the marine he was working with today, never had been hit with biotic attacks before. Few marines had, since the result often could be serious injury or death if one didn't know what it felt like, or how they could land properly after being hit. Jenkins currently looked like something out of a comical toddler's vid. He had inserted themselves into massive foam bodysuits that made the corporal look like monstrous, bright yellow volus. The marine's awkward movements would make drunk krogan look like graceful ballerinas, his motions appearing as a laughable mix of waddles and hops. Rolling on the floor would probably be the most efficient method of movement in his current "armor". Someone had once said that a marine in the biotic training protection kit looked just like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, but Alenko didn't know what that was, other than the marshmallow in question would have to be possessed or something to look as ridiculous as Jenkins currently did.
Doctor Chakwas and a medic stood nearby with a trauma kit, just in case. There was little risk due to the level of protection used, the fact this was practice, and Alenko's extremely high control over his abilities, but prudence was much better than negligence. Kaidan would first practice with Jenkins, and he would then work with Emerson in two days when the marine was fully cleared for combat.
"Jenkins," Alenko said cautiously. "I'm going to first hit you with a very weak throw. You normally would keep your balance, but due to the armor, you might fall over."
"Got it, sir," Jenkins said eagerly.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes sir!" the corporal replied, a surprising amount of enthusiasm for someone about to be hit with a biotic attack.
"Okay." Alenko focused on the presence of the dark energy surrounding them in the docking bay, the mysterious energy that even asari scientists still knew surprisingly little about. From experience and his exceptional control, he knew exactly how much energy he needed to gather. While powerful biotics did not always need, or use, mnemonics to aid them, he had special motions he would use for training that provided weak versions of his normal attacks.
Open. He opened his right palm. Dark energy began to gather around his right wrist.
Back. He drew right his arm back slightly. His arm was now sheathed in glowing blue energy.
Relax. He relaxed the muscles in his right hand and wrist. The corona flickered around the rest of his body.
Forward. Finally, he pushed his arm forward, releasing the energy in a blue flash.
The corporal staggered backwards for several steps from the "attack", finally falling onto his back as the suit made keeping balance nearly impossible. The corporal rolled to the side to look at the lieutenant, a surprising wide grin on his face after being hit by biotics.
Jenkins managed to quickly get to his feet on his own, and the lieutenant hit him again with a couple other throws so the corporal could get used to the sensation. Each time, the corporal sported a grin as he got to his feet. They then moved on to lifts, with the corporal experiencing the odd and often terrifying experience of floating from a biotic attack, but he nonetheless laughed while floating in the air.
"Okay, Corporal. Now I'm going to hit you harder, with something approaching an average throw. This will knock you back into the padding blocks," Kaidan said.
The corporal nodded, and the biotic lieutenant shifted his body to charge the attack. Open-back-relax-forward.
They continued with several more throws, then Kaidan moved onto singularities. He placed a weak one a meter in front of Jenkins, and the young marine was pulled into the air and swirled around the vortex. It collapsed several moments later, and the corporal fell to the ground hard, flat onto his rear. Chakwas immediately got concerned that the marine had been injured, but despite all the padding, he somehow managed to quickly sit up.
"That was AWESOME!" Jenkins exclaimed with a massive grin on his face.
Kaidan couldn't help but chuckle at the kid's enthusiasm. That certainly wasn't the reaction most people would have at being hit with a biotic singularity and swirling around helplessly in the air.
A moment later, Chakwas realized the corporal was fine. Just the fact that Jenkins had been able to get up was clue enough. And she knew Lieutenant Alenko had excellent control over his abilities.
Jenkins began to hop/hobble back to the center of the bay, but he stopped after only a few awkward movements. "Hey Commander!" he said, excitement evident in his voice.
Kaidan turned to notice Commander Shepard standing a few paces away, arms crossed over her chest. "You boys having fun?" she asked in an amused, lighthearted tone that followed a quick laugh. Jenkins exclaimed that he was, and the XO couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. "That's not the typical reaction to be on the receiving end of a biotic singularity," she told him.
"Do you teach marines how to counter biotics, ma'am?" Jenkins asked her.
"No." She shook her head, and for a brief moment, her amused look had been replaced by something else, something harder to decipher, and it was gone so quickly that Alenko wondered whether he just imagined it. "I don't have the control required to safely train people. Lieutenant Alenko does."
"You went ashore this morning, right ma'am? Any word on when we'll start our shakedown cruise?" Jenkins asked eagerly.
Shepard shook her head again. "I haven't heard anything, Jenkins. We're to continue with ground team training and electronics calibrations today."
The corporal looked disappointed at her response. "I've never worked with biotics before. I can't wait to see you both in action!"
Chakwas spoke up before either Shepard or Alenko could. "I sincerely hope you're kidding, Corporal. Your 'action' often ends up with marines being patched up in the medbay," she replied. While her tone did hold some amusement, it still held a doctor's scolding edge.
"Corporal, while your enthusiasm is admirable, you do need to calm down a little. Excitement can be a good thing, but don't lose track of the mission or the objectives," Alenko told him.
Shepard nodded in agreement while she looked at Alenko. "Sorry. I'm just excited to be here, and just waiting for our missions to begin," the corporal responded.
"Just treat this like every other assignment you've had," Shepard told him.
"That's easy for you to say, ma'am. You proved yourself during the Blitz," Jenkins responded.
The commander let out a brief chuckle and wore a smile for a moment, though to the observant lieutenant, it seemed a bit forced and tight. "Elysium wasn't quite what PAO made it out to be," she replied, and to Alenko it seemed that her voice was slightly quieter and more subdued. He scrutinized her expression, but whatever had been there was quickly gone before he could observe more. "You served a tour in the Traverse, right Jenkins?" Shepard asked.
"Yes ma'am." While he had only been in a few smaller engagements, his proficiency with rifles was about as high as Shepard had ever seen.
"Nothing will be different on the Normandy…well, except with this drive core we'll probably get from place to place faster," she replied with an amused look, then suddenly glanced down at her wrist to see her omni-tool light up. She then glanced to Lieutenant Alenko, saying a moment later, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your training. Carry on, gentlemen."
Joker had gotten up early and planted his ass in the pilot's chair before most of the crew had even eaten breakfast. Captain Anderson hadn't returned to the ship last night, and still hadn't come aboard. Commander Shepard had already been up for a while, as she had come down from the comm room just as Joker was getting up. She had spent time reading classified documents about the Normandy's capabilities, and then left for what she said was a briefing off-ship. He had barely sat down for breakfast of eggs and slightly undercooked bacon when Shepard had departed. She was wearing her dress blues, so it must have been at least somewhat formal. Why they were called blues, he had no idea. Her skirt was navy blue, but the short-sleeved blouse was white…whatever.
Too many things about the Navy seemed to be holdovers from when the "Navy" used coal or oil—or even wind—as methods of propulsion for their ships. He supposed that crossing the line could be adapted to…what? Crossing the galactic plane for the first time, rather than crossing the equator? So many other things were holdovers. The ship had no anchor, the ship had no rudder to take rudder orders, the ship had no…COB. The Normandy certainly wasn't a boat. He held no expectations about the Normandy's ability to float in water, and he had no desire to find out, either. Though, on second thought, the Normandy might float, as she was…very well-endowed, from a certain engineering perspective, the pilot grinned to himself.
While several of the ground crew worked with Alenko on countering biotic attacks in the loading bay, Joker had finished reading through reports of the political state of the Terminus systems. He figured something had to be in the data, something to suggest why the intel guys had their panties in a bunch. He thought he figured out why Layla Shepard was here as XO, which had to do with those lace-panty embassy goons and the Council…and whatever it is they did when they didn't babble incessantly.
As if on cue, his new XO approached the helm. From his observation of the internal cameras, she had apparently been observing Alenko's biotic training down in the cargo bay after coming aboard. "Hi Joker," she said softly.
"Hey Commander. How goes the biotics training?"
She chuckled for a couple moments. "I never thought I would have heard a marine exclaim that swirling around in a biotic singularity was 'awesome!'."
Joker himself laughed at hearing the info. "Jenkins?" he asked.
"Jenkins," she confirmed with a grin.
The pilot couldn't help but laugh again and shake his head at the corporal's enthusiasm.
Shepard's smile faded. "It would be nice to have another couple marines on board, though. Emerson won't be cleared for combat for another couple days, and that just leaves Alenko and Jenkins."
"And you," Joker added quickly.
"Not a marine," she chuckled. "And XOs normally don't deploy groundside. But still...even if I do, there's only three of us." She shrugged. "We'll see."
Joker nodded. "So, Commander, what brings you up to the helm this morning?"
"Captain Anderson is bringing a guest to the ship, and he asked me to meet him at the airlock," she replied, her tone only conveying a small hint of her puzzlement.
Huh. Joker remained silent for several moments, and the pilot's voice didn't betray his emotions as he asked, "How was the briefing on the Normandy?" He turned his head as much as he could to look at his XO.
"Let's just say that this is a very impressive ship," she said. "I had heard a little bit about the capabilities…but…I didn't realize what had gone into her design and construction." She took a seat in the chair to his right, and he was able to turn enough to face her. She shifted in the seat and crossed her legs as she faced him, and a small smile appeared on her face.
Joker found himself smiling as well, as if hers was infectious. "She is something else. I've been working with her since they started building her prototype hardware."
A surprised look appeared on her face. "That long?"
"That long. It's been a good two years," he responded.
She nodded, saying quietly after a couple moments, "I was never told what was in that crate of supplies Captain Anderson sent me to fetch, by the way, and when I asked I was ordered to not worry about it." A mixed look containing both a hint of frustration and a bit of confusion appeared on her face.
"Huh. I would have pried it open," the pilot said conspiratorially.
"Now why doesn't that surprise me in the least," Shepard said, an amused grin appearing on her face. Then her expression turned serious. "This isn't a case where I've been told what's going on, but was ordered not to tell you. I've been told nothing. I mean, I have a guess or two on why I'm here, but…" Her voice trailed off.
"Yeah, something about someone for some sort of prestigious role, or so I would think. That could have something to do with why you're here as XO," he said with an amused look in his eyes. Shepard's rather pretty eyes widened in surprise at his comment as she looked at him. "Probably the same thing you are thinking."
"Could be," she said quietly, quickly, looking away at a console displaying a myriad of data about the status of shipboard systems as she began to fiddle with the tie tab at her neck.
"You hear anything interesting while ashore?" Joker asked.
"Nothing relating to us, but one of the deputy Joint Chiefs is retiring, along with an O-7," Shepard said, explaining briefly. "I think they were only in their roles for about thirteen months? A little odd for them to both retire so suddenly, but then again, I'm just a newly minted O-4," she said with a shrug, placing her hands back in her lap.
"Unlucky Thirteen I guess," the pilot said with his own shrug.
She grinned back at him. "Good as explanation as any, I suppose." Then her smile faded. "Still, it makes me wonder…" she said thoughtfully.
"So you heard nothing at all about why the Intel weenies are running around in circles?" Joker asked.
"Nothing. And watch it, I was in intel once upon a time," she finished with a grin as she looked back up at him.
"I didn't realize that. When?" he asked.
"Soon after Elysium. Press Corps wanted to have easier access to me to do periodic speeches and help with recruitment efforts. But I didn't have a clearance to really be able to contribute when I started," she told him with a slight shrug. "Just to be available for whatever interview or ad they scheduled next."
The pilot nodded with a grimace. Figures, he thought sourly. She can probably kick anyone's ass in this galaxy and the next, yet PAO just wanted her to stand around and look pretty. "That sucks," the pilot said after a couple moment's pause.
She nodded in agreement. "I can think of better things to be doing than being PAO's newest wind-up toy," she said with a sour edge to her voice.
Joker couldn't help but burst into laughter at both the though and his XO's sense of humor.
"Speaking of which," she said, then leaned forward in her seat and put her hands behind her back. She moved her arms for several moments, as if turning a large wheel or gear on her back. "There," she finished with a grin.
Joker chuckled and shook his head. "Just don't have me try that. You'll have no one to fly the ship for a month." He finished the statement, though at the end his expression subconsciously darkened slightly.
"About that…" Shepard began, concern and a bit of uncertainty in her eyes as she reached up again to fiddle with the tie tab at her neck. "If there's anything I can do to help you…that is, if that's something you're okay with…just please let me know," she finished quickly.
The pilot couldn't determine what was more surprising: the fact she had offered help, or the uncertainty in her voice. He'd only worked with her for three days, and she had always been calm, collected, and confident, in addition to throwing around her quick wit, but she seemed uncertain now.
While he often took offense to people who offered to help him, or express pity or concern, he didn't just angry at people for their sincerity to help. "I can look after myself, Commander," he replied evenly. "It won't be an issue."
"Okay…but if there's anything I can help with, please let me know," she replied with a nod, uncertainty still in her tone. "We need you flying this ship. Speaking of help, I'm certainly going to need some more help getting fully up to speed on the maneuvering capabilities. I got a feel for her from the sims, but that was only three days."
"Pretty much anything you ask of me and the Normandy, we can do. I can make her dance. Just, you know, don't ask me to dance," he replied.
A grin appeared on Shepard's face, though the pilot could tell it was slightly forced and nervous, as if she wasn't quite sure how to take his joking about Vrolik's disease. "I don't think – "
A beep from a console interrupted her, indicating someone was boarding through the airlock. As before, there was no officer of the watch, though the platoon of marines and even more MPs took their job very seriously, ensuring that anyone near the Normandy's drydock had both clearance and a very good reason to be there. Joker instinctively quickly zoomed in on the feed from the camera. "Looks like Captain Anderson is back. With the guest, who…is…" he started, but paused on seeing a second figure enter after him.
"A turian…" Shepard muttered as she stood, glancing back to Joker who was just as surprised as she was. The turian that both humans examined on the small screen carried plenty of firepower. She couldn't see the weapons on the tall turian's back, but she did recognize the HMWP pistol at his hip – a weapon that could shred high-quality armor as if it were wet paper. But more importantly, it was a prototype available only to Spectres. She recognized his armor too, and she realized her assessment was correct…they were going to ask her.
A moment later the airlock opened and the odd pair entered. She stood at attention with her hands behind her back and her legs together. "Sir," she said to the two men in the galactic trade language. The turian looked her over a moment, appraising her, his impassive face showing nothing.
"At ease, Commander. Nihlus Krylik, this is Lieutenant Commander Layla Shepard, Executive Officer of the SSV Normandy," Captain Anderon stated formally in the galactic trade language.
Nihlus sensed the commander's hesitation, as she was seemingly not sure about protocol in this situation, so he offered his hand. She took it after a moment's pause. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Commander," he replied to her in the same language.
"It's an honor to meet you, sir," she told him respectfully. From this moment on, this man would be judging her every action, order, and word…
"Nihlus is a Spectre with the Citadel Council. He'll be accompanying us on our first mission," Captain Anderson stated.
Nihlus noticed the commander didn't seem at all surprised; actually her current expression implied that she had been expecting this. Her expression hadn't changed at all when Anderson mentioned he was a Spectre. Well, he had been briefed that she was intelligent, and she had probably heard enough to piece together what was happening. Only half of it. "What will our first mission be, sir?" she asked, looking at the captain and then back to the Spectre.
"I'll fill you in later, Commander. Get the crew and the ship ready for immediate departure. I apologize, but if you'll excuse us, Commander." She was right about one thing—they would ask her to become a Spectre, but…what about the rest? Now what was going on?
"Yes, sir. I'll get us ready," she said calmly with a nod, though after a brief moment of surprised hesitation from hearing about their sudden departure, and the fact the captain hadn't explained the reason. "What destination shall I set, sir?"
"Eden Prime," was the quick response over the shoulder response from the captain. The two men walked towards CIC, and presumably would head into the comm room, leaving a momentarily stunned commander and pilot in their wake.
Joker jumped at the mention of the name Eden Prime, looking at Shepard and mouthing a what? She turned to look at the pilot with surprised wide eyes, and shrugged her shoulders in an expression that said your guess is as good as mine. He hadn't missed the sharp intake of breath from the commander either when the destination was stated; she was just as surprised as him. Her face, though, showed a fair bit of concern, as did his own. Why were they skipping the planned shakedown cruise? And, much more importantly, why was their destination with an embarked Spectre the most peaceful colony in human space?
Anderson and Nihlus stood alone in the dimmed comm room, the only illumination coming from the trio of overhead lights. Yet another conspiratorial setup… This time, however, the captain didn't find it in the least bit funny.
"Do you think she's ready for this? Not just her possible position, but what the missions could entail?" Nihlus asked.
"You make the final recommendation, not me. But for my response: yes, she's ready. If not, give her a few minutes to get acquainted with the new situation. She's a quick learner."
"You've worked with her extensively since you rescued her on Mindoir. Is there anything else that is relevant to her candidacy?" the Spectre asked.
Yes. "No," Anderson lied. "You've seen her full file."
"Indeed, her record is very impressive, although it is a bit shorter than I expected. I do have a couple concerns about her past. Specifically Mindoir," the turian stated. "And I still have my doubts that a non-asari biotic can be as powerful as it is claimed she is. I would like to see her abilities for myself."
"I am afraid you may have to see them earlier than we would like," Anderson said gravely.
The Spectre's tone was equally grave. "I hope it is a few days before I see them, but I fear you are correct."
Anderson said nothing else as he reflected on all of the things that could go wrong with this "simple" detour to Eden Prime. Very few people knew about it, it was an unscheduled stop, and they should be done in a couple hours. What could possibly go wrong?
A thousand things.
As usual for the man, he sat in his office alone. He gazed out at the expanse of space as he lit a cigarette, not paying much heed to the striking view. For the few physical visitors he had in his office, it was a continuous source of wonder and amazement. For him, though, it had become routine.
He reviewed the initial set of dossiers on prospective Spectre candidates. No surprises from the list, though the sudden retirement of two senior Alliance officers hinted that the day of reckoning for one of the candidates had come.
The man continued to ponder how best to handle the situation of recruitment. The two senior Alliance officers, now with no access to Alliance information, were useless to him. The man's organization did not need more administrators. Less is more, in that particular case. One of those flag officers, he thought, might even become a threat to the Alliance if he were to leak sensitive information. That could be dealt with easy enough, though too often after the damage had already been done. This time, he would deal with it proactively. It could pass as an unfortunate suicide or accident as a result of the discharge; he could decide after an operative had been placed to observe the target. The particular details of the job, as usual, would be left to the operative.
Next the man focused on the disgraced potential Spectre candidate. The behavior of that particular candidate had been appalling, but the man remained singularly focused on his goals. That candidate, with his skillset and known views about human supremacy, would also make an excellent addition to the man's own organization. After all, most came from the Alliance government, and many remained in their current Alliance roles, influencing Alliance policy and passing along information. In this case, it was simply the candidate had a skillset too valuable to use for anything other than the benefit of humanity. He'd assign one of his best operatives to the task of recruitment, even though she had been in cover with the Alliance for some time.
His thoughts then turned to the first human Spectre candidate that the Alliance would recommend. Layla Shepard. She would not have been his first choice for the role, and given what he knew that a couple of the primary decision makers knew, he doubted she was their first choice either. He suspected their first choice, as his own, had been critically injured in bad luck in an operation. While he would recover, that injury couldn't have come at a worse time for humanity.
It wasn't that Shepard didn't have the talent to be a good Spectre. She'd be a great one, the man thought, though Spectres would have to make sacrifices to get the job done, and he doubted whether Shepard could make the truly hard calls that Spectres sometimes needed to make. She was too…paragon. Too idealistic.
Walters needed to be the first Spectre. It would deflect attention away from Shepard, away from a couple things in particular. Things that couldn't come to light. Given what Hackett and Anderson knew – and Shepard didn't – that would give him significant leverage over the former two, if it came to that. But recruiting Shepard would be a remote chance. She'd be far more likely to biotically tear down his organization piece by piece, with little – or nothing – in the galaxy that could stop her.
Regardless of Shepard, though, the man's goal remained the same. The advancement of humanity. Recently, he realized the goal needed to be expanded to the protection of humanity as well. His main specialty was knowledge, intelligence, and his widely compiled information pointed to hints that something just wasn't quite right in the Milky Way galaxy. It had taken some unusual sources of information to hint at that conclusion, but it became obviously simple once one thought about it for a minute, and the old Fermi Paradox from hundreds of years ago came to mind. Galaxy-spanning empires, one that could create such marvels as the mass relays, simply don't mysteriously vanish with no sign of the cause. Life seemed to be relatively common in just the tiny portion of the galaxy that had been explored, with well over a dozen FTL-capable species and ruins belonging to at least that many more. All current spacefaring species had arisen in the last few thousand years, after the protheans vanished 50,000 years ago. While most dismissed some of the more outlandish claims of the protheans' fate as conspiracy theories, the simple truth of the matter that evidence had been literally unearthed that the protheans met a sudden, unexpected, and violent end. The same fate couldn't happen to humanity.
In the meantime, the man would continue to look for additional evidence, additional information, on how humanity could be protected, or spared, from whatever catastrophe befell the protheans. But first, he would recruit the disgraced N7.
Author's Notes:
Now we're getting into ME1 proper. While this story is a "re-telling" of ME1, there will be some significant changes and additions.