Acronyms:
AMC – Alliance Material Command
SIGINT – Signals Intelligence
CHENG – Chief Engineer
CHAPTER 13: DEPARTURE
Anderson, Shepard, Alenko, and Williams had returned to the Normandy, followed by a change of command ceremony. They could have technically left without it, but the Navy was mindful of traditions, not to mention highly superstitious when those traditions were not followed meticulously. Some things, Joker thought, apparently never change, even when said traditions date back to the days when wind was considered a viable method of propulsion for ships.
Shepard brought the entire crew into the briefing room. Everyone fit inside due to the small size of the crew despite the recent additions, though there was not enough room for anyone to sit. The commander then outlined their current intel.
Matriarch Benezia was working with Saren. Benezia had an estranged daughter, Liara T'Soni, an expert on the protheans. Current information placed Liara in the Artemis Tau cluster, at a location with undiscovered prothean ruins. However, all indications pointed to the fact the geth were searching for her, too. They needed to search the several surveyed systems in the cluster, and while a pair of Alliance frigates would arrive to assist in about a day, they still had an entire cluster to search. Unfortunately, they had no other leads on Liara, Benezia, or Saren. The Alliance was requesting information on civilian transportation tickets to try to pin down the exact system Liara was in.
Shepard then gave a quick speech to the crew. Normally speeches were filled with standard phraseology by the CO, but this one, by universal consensus of the crew during the mess conversations over the next couple days, was actually a good one. A very good one, in fact. Hmph. She's actually pretty good at that, Joker thought.
The commander then stated that Tali would be briefing the Normandy's crew on the geth, and Pressly would be organizing the classes. She then stated that Chief Williams would be providing additional small arms qualifications to make sure everyone was up to date. However, to lessen that blow of having to re-qualify on small arms, she then stated that purchases would soon begin for Titan armor with improved shield generators and HMWP sidearms for every crewmember. This brought immediate murmurs of approval, and even a couple claps. To facilitate the purchase of the armor, every one of the crew would need to provide their armor size parameters in the next twelve hours. Additional HMW weapons would be placed in the Normandy's armory, and would be available for use by the ground crew. In addition, advanced prototype armor would be fitted for each of the ground crew.
Shepard dismissed the crew, who by now were rather excited by the assorted "goodies" they would soon be receiving, and walked up to the bow. She and the captain left the ship together.
"You're going to catch a bit of heat for those purchases from AMC," Anderson cautioned.
Shepard didn't seem to care, waving her hand towards the elevator with a slight scowl on her face. "That's their problem, sir. We're chasing a rogue Spectre with an army of geth." Then she turned quiet. "We already lost one member of the crew to geth, and thousands died on Eden Prime. Everyone's getting the best gear."
Anderson nodded agreement; he already had an idea on how he would run interference for her in this case. "I'll cover for you on this end."
"Thank you, sir," she said quietly, no longer making eye contact with him.
The captain saw the expression on her face, the hesitation, the uncertainty. The expressions he himself had once worn twenty years ago, too. "Layla, believe it or not, about twenty years ago a young officer named David Anderson probably had nearly identical thoughts running though his head. 'This is too much. I don't know how I'm going to do it.' Ask anyone; even Hackett, Moshodi, Singh. All of them will tell you they had a moment in their careers where they had the same thoughts. 'Oh shit, what am I going to do now?' But you know what, all of them did fine. Just like you will do fine. You never would have been picked if I didn't have complete confidence in you."
"None of you were the first human Spectre," she finished quietly, still not meeting his gaze.
She was entirely correct, of course, that she had much higher stakes placed on her than perhaps any other human since the discovery of FTL, but he would never say that to her. "The Alliance, the Council, and several Spectres all approved you, because they know you'll get the job done."
"Yeah, but…" Words froze in her mouth, and she stared blankly at the floor as she pondered her shoes.
"Layla," he replied softly, gently taking her shoulders. "Remember several of those missions that we can't talk about? Where you told me afterward that you had know idea how you would get the mission done? But you did. You've always overcome the impossible, and that's why you're here now. You said it yourself in the speech just a few minutes ago. 'Saren must be stopped, and I promise you all, we will stop him!'"
She looked up to him, finally making eye contact. "You're right…I…" Shepard started to say. Then she finally at him before finally saying softly, "Thank you, David. For everything."
The captain pulled his protégé into a gentle embrace. "Good luck, Layla," he replied.
A minute later Anderson was gone, leaving her alone for the first time since this morning.
She stared out in the nebula, the myriad of colors strewn across the endless void of space seemingly reinforcing the enormous responsibility she now shouldered. She remembered Anderson's words just a minute before.
I got this.
She remembered she had the best ship and the best crew that anybody could ask for.
I got this.
She then remembered the staggering amount of scrutiny her and her background would receive, bringing a brief flicker of panic to her mind…but remembered that it had held up after Elysium, and it would hold up here, too.
She took a deep breath. "I…got this," she whispered.
The images from the beacon, the possible prothean extinction, entered unbidden into her thoughts, and she thought of Saren's decades of experience on her, the massive ship from Eden Prime…the Reapers. A wave of alarm settled in her stomach at the utter destruction –
No I don't got this –
She closed her eyes and took a long, shaky breath, repeating the process twice more, finally returning some semblance of control to her nerves. She didn't notice the airlock open up behind her.
"Commander." Kaidan's voice startled her out of her thoughts. "I just finished the provisioning of rations. We're set with dextro and levo food. As long as we don't throw a party with a turian platoon, we're set for several weeks."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said quietly.
He didn't respond, not sure what to say to her. She had been and still faced away from him, and she had startled and jumped when he said her rank, presumably deep in thought. He looked past her, staring out into the depths of the Serpent Nebula. He gazed at the myriad of colors in the clouds, each hue indicating a slightly different gaseous composition, and marveled at the kaleidoscope that lay before him. Staring at the heart of a nebula never got old to the lieutenant. He looked back to his new CO after several moments, who still appeared to be contemplating something, not moving at all to board the ship. "What is it, Commander?" he finally asked quietly.
She turned to face him, not making eye contact as she looked down at the floor apprehensively. "I…It's…Captain Anderson gave up everything so I could have this chance. He's the most decorated special forces officer in the history of the Alliance. But…he just gives up the rest of his career. For me."
He had heard pep talks in his career as an enlisted man and an officer. He had given many pep talks, received more, and overheard even more than he had given or received combined. He never would have expected himself to be giving one to Layla Shepard, though. "It's a sign of how much faith he has in you. How much all of us have in you. Eden Prime would have been a lot worse without you there, and you found the key pieces of evidence against Saren. Without you, we'd still be grasping at straws, looking for answers and even still asking the questions, instead of departing to hunt for Saren." The lieutenant found himself surprised at how easy those words came from his mouth, and the confidence he put behind them.
"You've been there for both of those. I couldn't have done it without you," she responded, finally looking up to make eye contact with him.
"But you were the leader." He let out an unconscious chuckle when he remembered the meeting with the Council the prior day. "Then you beat both the Council and the ambassador at their own game, and convinced them to make you a Spectre. That was all you."
"I…guess," she said, evident hesitation in her voice. "But mostly, I was lucky." She let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I guess so, but…it's still a lot to process. And then I told the Council that I would stop their most decorated and famous Spectre, who has been doing this since before I was born."
The lieutenant saw a different commander in front of him. Here, she was clearly hesitant and unsure of herself, and he suspected that very few people ever saw her like this. They only saw her competence in a mission, or her normally relaxed, quick-witted demeanor when off-duty. He didn't know how he should feel that he was seeing the Alliance's heroine and the first human Spectre in such a state of self-doubt, but he couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through him at the thought that she apparently trusted him enough to confide in him in such a way.
"But don't sell yourself short either," she continued.
"I won't. But my face isn't the one that will be on all the news vids for the next couple months," he told her.
"Please don't remind me of that," she said, finally letting out a laugh, then her expression softened. "I…thank you, Alenko. For the quick pep talk. I needed that," she said softly with a warm smile as she took a couple steps closer to him.
"I-I'll do my best with any future pep talks," he told her, trying to ignore the flushing he felt in his face at her sudden proximity to him.
She smiled up at him. "I'll definitely keep that in mind." She then saw the lieutenant quickly straighten and salute.
"Ten-hut!" Alenko exclaimed.
Shepard quickly spun around and saluted whoever the lieutenant was saluting. Given his call to attention, it would be someone senior to her, and –
"At ease," Rear Admiral Mikhailovitch said.
"W-we weren't told to expect you, sir. I would have prepared a formal greeting," Shepard told him, wide-eyed at the surprise visit from the man who was technically her new boss. "Lieutenant Commander Layla Shepard, CO of SSV Normandy. With me is Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko." She glanced at her subordinate, and for some reason she flashed him a brief look of concern.
Uh oh, the lieutenant thought. He wasn't completely sure why his new CO suddenly looked apprehensive, but he had a couple guesses.
"Spare me the pleasantries," he said dismissively. "You and the Normandy were slated for the 63rd Scout Flotilla after shakedown. Then the Council got their paws. Claws. Tentacles. Whatever. They got them on our ship. And on you."
"Staff Lieutenant Alenko, could you please see to the provisioning?" she said.
With the look she shot him, plus the admiral's words, the sources of her concern were crystal clear. And while her orders were simple, Alenko noted the hidden message. "Aye aye, ma'am," he said as he turned into the airlock. Once the outer door closed, he immediately cycled the decom sequence and paged Pressly. "Lieutenant Pressly, we have an admiral outside. He's the CO of the flotilla we would have likely been assigned to."
The lieutenant heard a barely audible expletive over the line. "Copy that, Lieutenant. We'll start getting the ship cleaned up for a tour." The line clicked dead as the XO likely began scrambling to check whether everything aboard the ship was in order.
The inner door opened, and Alenko immediately started appraising the appearance of the ship. He and Pressly went around, quickly informing and instructing the crew of the likely inspection in the not too distant future by an unhappy rear admiral.
Shepard kept her hands behind her back, glancing to see Alenko was cycling through the airlock. He seemed to have caught her unspoken message and her concern, and she felt a very brief feeling of relief. "I still serve the Alliance, sir. As a Spectre, I can advance our interests to the Council."
"Hmph. You still know what color your blood is, Shepard?" he asked her, crossing his arms.
"I do, sir."
"I don't begrudge the politicians' decision to throw you to the Council. It's an…opportunity. I do begrudge this overdesigned piece of tin, though." He gestured towards the stealth ship just a few meters away in the dock.
Shepard blinked and bristled slightly at hearing the Normandy, a brand new ship – now her ship – referred to in such a derogatory way. "The Normandy is a fine ship, sir, and she has an excellent crew," she replied calmly, without a hint of the anger she now felt.
"She's a gimmick, Commander. Useless in a stand-up fight. This experiment diverted billions from our appropriations bills. For the same price, we could've had a heavy cruiser. But no, we had to make nice to the turians. Throw money at a co-developed boondoggle. Lieutenant Commander, the Normandy is an Alliance warship. I intend to see she's up to par."
Shepard nodded and fully straightened herself. "We would be honored to show her to you, Admiral," she replied formally.
"I'll just bet," he muttered.
He started forward to the airlock, and Shepard began cycling the airlock for him, standing with her hands behind her back as they waited for the process to complete and the interior door to open.
She opened the door for Mikhailovitch, then followed a couple steps behind him and to his left, introducing each crewmember by name and role, describing everything he saw on the ship.
The admiral was mostly silent during the tour, keeping his face impassive, though his face briefly broke into a scowl every time he saw a non-human. He did not seem impressed by the massive drive core, even as Adams described just what the core was truly capable of.
After following the admiral for what seemed like an hour, he told her, "I've seen what I need to, Commander."
She followed him back to the airlock and cycled through.
Upon exiting, he quickly told her, "Commander. I'm not happy." His face had a rather pronounced scowl.
Why am I not surprised, she thought dryly but didn't dare say. "I'm sorry to hear that, sir," she replied, keeping her hands behind her back.
"We need to talk about your crew, Commander! Quarians? Turians? Just what are you thinking, Commander!?" he shouted. "You can't allow alien nationals access to Alliance hardware!" he scolded her.
Now Shepard was surprised at the sudden change in decibel from the admiral. "Admiral, Officer Vakarian is a liaison with Citadel Security, who was instrumental in finding information that proved Saren's guilt. Miss nar'Rayya retrieved key evidence from geth units that allowed us to expose Saren to the Council, and she is an expert on the geth. As you know, sir, the turians collaborated with us in the Normandy's development, and are aware of many of her sensitive capabilities. This is a collaborative mission, and treating other species with suspicion and mistrust won't win hearts and minds, sir."
"That assumes their hearts and minds are actually worth winning, Commander. That has yet to be proven. I can't believe how much we spent on that drive core and stealth system that only lets the ship maneuver stealthily for a few hours. Do you want to guess how many fighter drive cores we could have had for that price?" the admiral asked pointedly.
Shepard nodded. "I am aware of the costs, sir. The drive core makes us the fastest ship in the galaxy by a fair margin." Excluding that massive dreadnought, and whatever else is lurking out there in the unexplored parts of the galaxy… "We can loiter in a hostile system to collect SIGINT, and we can drop infiltration teams. The stealth system is a force multiplier, sir, and we can be far more effective than STG."
"That isn't the job of a proper warship. We localize and kill enemy ships, not count how frequently their garrison takes a piss against a damned tree," the admiral shot back.
"Sir, we can stalk and flank enemy fleets, disrupting their attacks against the main formation. Due to the high power output from the reactor, we can shoot higher velocity shells at an increased rate of fire. Furthermore, simulations show that the Normandy can evade missile and shellfire even at close range, sir," Shepard replied. She actually started to feel a bit better about this discussion than she had when it started. While the admiral wasn't happy, these were at least operational and technical topics she was familiar with, and she had no problem verbally sparring with him.
"That's true," the admiral conceded after a moment. Then his expression turned hostile, a look that she hadn't seen from him yet. "But frankly, Lieutenant Commander, I am concerned about you. You are far too inexperienced to be the CO of the most advanced warship in the Alliance. You've been assigned to the most expensive ship in the Alliance for just over a week, having no time to get familiar with the Normandy. And now, you command her."
Shepard gulped. She hadn't expected that her qualifications be called into question by the man who was now technically her superior, but it had happened often enough before. And, if she was being honest, he was entirely correct. After Mindoir, she had been put in a civilian college for two years by a program funded by the Alliance to better integrate biotics into wider society, something Captain Anderson had pulled a few strings to do. Then at age eighteen she had been transferred to the Academy, with an accelerated two years as a cadet, something else that Anderson had pulled even more strings to do. Despite that early graduation, she was still very inexperienced for her rank. At her age, given command of the most advanced ship in the galaxy…many others had been passed over for her command, and she knew that it had created resentment amongst some other officers. She didn't blame them for the resentment at all; she was given opportunities simply because her face was on the vids for months after Elysium. N7 or not, special operations or not, abilities or not, her promotions and career had been extremely fast-tracked simply due to her fame from the Blitz.
"Sir, the Normandy has the best crew in the Alliance." That was the first thing that came to mind to speak. But she remained silent for several moments, her mind searching for the proper words to reply to the admiral. "Sir, yes, you are correct. In terms of years of service, I am inexperienced for my rank. But I have commanded a frigate before, and I know – "
"You've commanded an Ol' Smokey," he snorted with a dismissive wave. "Hardly a front line warship."
She was again silent for a couple moments before continuing. "Admiral, I have participated in many operations for NAVSOC in the past few years." And a few operations that you don't, and probably never will, know about. "I know how to utilize the Normandy's capabilities. Captain Anderson trusts me, and handpicked each of the crew. They are extremely capable, and I will lean on them and trust them to do their jobs well."
"That isn't the job of the CO, Commander," he replied as he crossed his arms. "And COs should not be leading ground teams."
"With all due respect, sir, no other COs in the Alliance are biotic Spectres that need the capabilities of this ship for their missions," she replied softly. She might get chewed out for saying that, but this wouldn't be the first time a superior had screamed at her.
To her slight surprise, the admiral didn't get angry, instead remaining silent for several moments. "Hm. A fair point, Commander," the admiral conceded, his glare and expression softening slightly. "You are heading to the Artemis Tau cluster to search for Benezia's daughter?"
"That is correct, sir. Her daughter is an expert on the protheans. While this mission is being undertaken on the orders of the Council and the human embassy, I will always keep you informed of our operations. I am still part of the normal chain of command, despite the unusual circumstances." She could still be given orders by the Alliance, but the Council and human embassy could also issue their own "orders" to her, as anything not from Fifth Fleet consisted of recommendations rather than orders…at least she thought so. Those little tidbits of administratia were still being worked out by the Alliance Navy and the embassy.
He nodded, but remained silent for several moments before asking, "Do you have anything else to say, Commander?"
"I think Normandy is a good ship, sir, with the best crew in the Alliance. Even if you disagree, I believe that her joint construction and multi-species crew will make the Alliance look better." She managed to keep her voice even, and let her convictions come through her tone.
"It's your job is to look good for the cameras, Commander," the admiral said, pointing his index finger at her. "It's my job to win wars." He pointed his thumb at his chest, then he let out a long sigh. "I'm not convinced Normandy isn't a waste of taxpayer money. But I am now convinced that you believe otherwise, and that you'll use her to the best of her ability. My thoughts are…less negative that I had when I arrived. Good hunting, Commander Shepard. Dismissed."
Commander Shepard gave a perfect salute.
Mikhailovitch returned it. "Make us proud," he said.
Shepard watched the admiral enter the elevator near the dock and depart. She took a deep breath to steady her shaking nerves. She hadn't realized that the airlock had been cycled, but this time she had noticed the sound of the outer door swishing open. She turned to see Lieutenant Alenko emerge.
"We're just about set to depart, Commander," he told her.
"Thank you, Alenko," she said after a moment's hesitation, nodding to him. Time to get to work.
After the Mikhailovitch tour, the Normandy had quickly departed the Citadel to search Artemis Tau for any reports of geth and to check out all known and suspected sites with prothean ruins. During this time, Shepard went around the ship, talking to each of the Alliance crew for a few minutes, asking about their roles, their equipment, their thoughts, and always finished with the fact her door was always open for discussion. She wanted to also talk with Garrus and Tali, but first had to have a slightly different conversation with Wrex.
"Wrex," she said, her tone serious as she crossed her arms. "I know you've been around the galaxy, and had been killing things for hundreds of years before humans even discovered electricity. You've seen everything that this galaxy has to offer, and if you have any thoughts, concerns, or advice, I always want to hear about them. I'll say the same thing I've told the rest of the crew: my door is always open. That being said, when I give orders I expect them to be followed. No, they will be followed. Is that understood?"
He nodded. "I've worked with the Alliance before. I know the drill. I will be itching for some action before long," the krogan replied.
"I have the feeling that we will be seeing some action in the not too distant future," Shepard assured him.
"As long as it doesn't take too long." He let out a small grin. "Still, I picked the right Spectre to work with this time. I'm glad I joined up with you instead of Saren. He put a request in for merc support a few months ago. I could tell as soon as I met saw that he was a problem."
"Wait what?" the commander asked, eyes widening in surprise. "You met Saren?"
"No, just saw him."
"How? When? What happened?"
"A team of mercs were bragging about a job out near the edges of the Terminus Systems. They said it paid well and the boss was a Spectre who never worked them hard. They said he was looking for more men, too. So, I checked it out. We'd been raiding a couple batarian ships in the Hades Gamma cluster when we took out this massive cargo freighter. Our biggest haul yet. I was on board checking for valuables, looking for extra credits. That's when I saw Saren."
"What was Saren looking for?" Shepard asked, her omni-tool out and quickly taking notes.
"I don't know what he wanted. He was just moving through the ship, like he was deep in thought. Couple of the mercs called him by name, but he never spoke to them. Never spoke to anyone. I had a really bad feeling about him, so I got the hell away. Didn't even wait to get paid."
"Whose ship was it?"
"Batarian. Automated, only guards were mechs, just a few turrets. It didn't appear on any official manifest, like they wanted it to slip by unnoticed," the krogan answered.
"What king of cargo was the freighter carrying?"
"I don't know. All I saw on the ship was food and medical supplies. There were some basic weapons, but nothing big. If there was anything of value on that ship, I didn't see it."
"That's the only time you saw him? Did any of the other mercs find anything unusual?"
"If they did, they didn't get a chance to talk about it. Every other merc on that mission turned up dead within a week. Every damned one," Wrex growled.
"Did you have any instructions to search for anything particular? Was there something specific that was ever mentioned, something that he was looking for?"
"No. A couple of the mercs had brought in a massive, thick crate, but I never saw what they were looking for or what, if anything, they put in that crate."
"Do you know where the ship had come from? Where it was heading?" Shepard asked.
"That's what I found to be strange. The nav computer showed a manifest of supplies from two batarian colonies, but it had just dropped out of FTL. There was only one system on that route. Dis, I think it was called, unless the ship took a roundabout route. I don't think so though, from the burns and jumps it was in a hurry." Wrex shrugged. "Not sure why someone would go through all the trouble to hide its origin point."
Shepard continued talking with Wrex, getting all of the details of Saren's mission that Wrex could remember, asking for any details that could give a clue about what the traitor was after. She logged the information, feeling as if a lightbulb in her head wanted to light up with a realization, but the fatigue slowed her thinking. If it was important, it would come to her eventually. But she could have sworn she had heard something interesting about the Dis system before. She'd have to remember to look it up when she got a chance.
She knew that many CO's didn't bother talking with their crews, but here, she thought, was a perfect reason why to chat. While the info from Wrex probably wouldn't lead anywhere, it never hurt to have AIA investigate it when things settled down.
Next she walked over to check on their resident turian. Having a turian onboard would likely ruffle a few feathers, and she wanted to make sure he was settling in okay. She then asked Garrus about his time at C-Sec.
"I joined for the same reasons most officers do. I wanted to fight injustice, wanted to help people. I guess my father had something to do with it, too. He was C-Sec. I grew up hearing about his accomplishments or seeing his picture on the vids after a big arrest." He sighed. "He's taking my resignation pretty hard," he finished quietly.
"He's not proud that you're going after Saren?" Shepard asked, surprised.
"My father's a C-Sec man to the bone. 'Do things right, or don't do them at all,' he says. He thinks I'm being too rash and too impatient. He's worried I'll become just like Saren. He actually talked me out of becoming a Spectre when I was younger."
Shepard's eyes were really wide now. "Wait what? You were asked to be a Spectre?"
Garrus shook his head. "Uh it's not like that. I was targeted as a possible Spectre candidate. Just me and about a thousand other turian military recruits. Nothing too serious," he said with a chuckle at her surprise. "I could have received special training, but my father wouldn't allow it. He despises Spectres. He hates the idea of someone having unlimited power with no accountability. He wouldn't like you at all, Commander." He paused for a moment, then he held up his hands as he followed up with a polite, "Uhh…sorry. No offense, Commander."
Shepard laughed. "None taken. I can certainly understand his concern with unlimited power with no accountability."
"You…can?" The turian's nostrils flared in surprise, and a bit of an expression that looked close to disappointment. "Saren's not going to play by our rules. If you want to stop Saren, you need to send someone who isn't restricted by policies and procedures."
"For the most part, the rules and procedures are there for a reason," Shepard said. "We all have to be accountable to someone or something."
"What does that say about some of the politicians?" Garrus deadpanned.
Shepard giggled. "Very true, Garrus." She then adopted a more thoughtful expression. "But power should never be its own reward. Too many people in power realize that too late." She paused for a moment. "It reminds me of two parliamentarians, husband and wife, that I first met at a ceremony for Elysium. Both were new to the job; both were idealistic and wanted to help the Alliance, to serve, all those clichés." She grinned, then it quickly soured as a slightly angry expression. "But I've heard a couple articles about them, and ran into them at our capital Arcturus a couple months ago. Both of them had…changed. The power got to them. All those things about serving, doing good…those were all gone." She snorted. "A few weeks ago, when I saw them at Arcturus, they wanted nothing to do with me. Now that I'm suddenly a Spectre, I'm suddenly getting a bunch of messages from people on my Alliance account. That couple has sent me a total of three so far."
"Huh. I…see," Garrus said slowly. "Turians are instilled with a sense of duty, but…yeah. That happens to some of our leaders, too. They forget their young adult mandatory service."
Shepard nodded. "And it's not just politicians that fall into the trap. Politicians, military leaders, business leaders – most of them good people – all get sucked in." She shrugged. "I've always wondered if it's all the aides that they get – all those people following them around, taking care of their every need, a subconscious reminder of how important they are. A squad to cater to their every whim. Bootlickers," she finished, stating the last word in English, fatigue prevented her from translating into an equivalent word in the trade language.
Garrus' mandibles flared. "What was that, Commander?" he asked in confusion. "I don't have my translator in."
Shepard looked puzzled for a moment before laughing. "Sorry, Garrus. Bootlicker a word in our main language for someone who is overly deferential and overly helpful to people in power."
The turian nodded. "Ah, I see."
"But Garrus, just because you can break the rules doesn't mean you should. If by breaking the rules, we become the very thing we tried to stop…I don't need to stoop to Saren's level to stop him. And neither do you, Garrus. We don't endanger innocents in the name of getting the job done. We are both better people than that," she told him softly.
"I…guess I see what you mean, Commander," he said.
"Just remember. If you ever need—or want—to talk, my door is always open."
"I appreciate that, Commander."
"One last request," she said with a grin. "You're not in the Alliance military, so during informal situations, just call me Layla. I prefer that to 'Commander' or 'ma'am', or even 'Shepard'." She shrugged, narrowing her eyes as she looked off to the side for a moment. "Everyone always calls me 'Shepard' for some reason…"
"Understood." Garrus paused for a moment, but then the commander began to ask him about the weapons he was tinkering with, and before he knew it, another ten minutes had passed.
Chief Williams looked up from her adjustments to the Mako. Her new CO had been talking with Garrus for probably close to twenty minutes. For the most part, she seemed to be letting him speak; she only asked a few questions about weapons, at least from what parts of the conversation she had overheard. Finally the commander concluded the discussion and walked past the Mako.
"Commander, could I have a few minutes of your time?" the NCO asked, a bit of apprehension and hesitation in her expression as she set down the tools.
"Of course, Chief. I have an open-door policy, and always want to hear feedback. What's on your mind?" the commander asked, having a good idea what caused the chief's unease. While the CO had already planned to start addressing the topic, now would be as good a time as any to begin.
The chief took a deep breath. "Okay, ma'am." She glanced around the hangar bay, seeing who was present.
Shepard took the hint, and the two of them stood in a cramped alcove near the entrance to Engineering.
"Okay…" the chief began quietly. "It's about the non-Alliance personnel on the ship," she continued in English, and quickly in case someone did have a translator in their ear. "I'm concerned with…I'm concerned about them having access or seeing sensitive Alliance technology and capabilities. With all due respect, Commander, should they have full access to the ship? To the drive core, sensors, and weapons?"
Shepard's face was impassive as she looked at the chief. "While they aren't Alliance personnel, when it comes to hunting Saren, they are our allies. They won't know about most of the Normandy's capabilities. And she was co-developed with the turians. The Hierarchy already has a very good idea of what she can do."
"This is the most advanced ship in the Alliance Navy. I'm just not…I'm concerned with them having free reign around the vital systems."
"I understand your concerns, Chief. And…I understand where you're coming from. Wrex and Garrus have no need to access the Normandy's vital systems. They will be spending their time in the cargo bay or the crew area; they don't need to be in CIC or Engineering. But Chief…" Shepard started, "we also need all the allies we can get, regardless of where they come from. Saren's got a head start in every area."
"I'm not sure how much we should be relying on allies. I mean, the Council hasn't provided any support for Eden Prime. I mean, the ambassador even called them out for not honoring their treaty obligations," Williams said pointedly.
Shepard nodded agreement. "You've definitely got a point there, Ashley. Irrespective of Saren, they haven't been very responsive to the geth attack. But we do have a pushy and…loud ambassador, and until Tali's evidence, our only accusations were all style and no substance. Keep in mind that Garrus seems very passionate about bringing Saren to justice, essentially giving up his prior job to join up, and Wrex has worked with the Alliance before."
"Really? Wrex has worked with the Alliance?" the chief responded skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
The commander nodded, allowing herself a small grin. "Really. I heard it first from Captain Anderson, and then straight from our new resident walking tank himself. It's perfectly understandable to have concerns about other species. We're Alliance personnel; we swore an oath to protect humanity, and neither of us have much experience working with other species."
"I don't have any," the chief responded.
"Well, there's a first time for everything," Shepard said lightly, then turned serious. "If anyone – Alliance or not – violates security protocols on this ship, they're getting dumped off at the nearest outpost with a one-way ticket back to Arcturus."
Ashley raised an eyebrow in amusement. "No dropping them off at a beach with a pail and shovel?"
Shepard grinned. "I'm a Spectre, not an admiral. Only admirals can do that." Her expression then turned serious once again. "In this mission, though, we will likely be encountering and working with many other non-Alliance personnel, and we need to be respectful. If we do something wrong or offensive, we'll be the top story on the news vids for a month. Also, with Wrex, I think he could care less about ship systems. We'll have bigger problems on our hands if we don't give him stuff to shoot frequently."
Williams chuckled. "You're probably right on that count, skipper."
Shepard could tell that it would take time, a few more conversations, and actually working with non-humans for Williams to adjust to working with non-Alliance personnel. She had a couple thoughts to help with that, though. She would make a quick request to Garrus, once he was out of earshot of the chief. The commander needed to discuss one other thing with Williams, however, and she requested that the chief follow her up to the comm room.
Williams was instantly on edge. Countless Alliance personnel would have their choice assignment be on the Normandy, even if it was to just to clean toilets rather than let the automated systems do it. Anything to get on the prototype ship, but only about thirty personnel would have the privilege of serving on the stealth frigate at any one time. The chief didn't want to do anything to jeopardize her posting to the SR-1. This was an opportunity to avenge her unit, to restore her family's name, and to prove to both herself and to others that she belonged with the handpicked crew, and hadn't ended up here due to sheer circumstance.
Shepard closed the door after both had entered the comm room. "Chief, we haven't had much of a chance to talk. About Eden Prime," she said softly, solemnly. "You were off yesterday when you were up early. I wanted to talk with you, see how you were doing."
Williams didn't know how to respond, both from the fact that Shepard had apparently read her with ease, and the chief didn't want to jeopardize her post. "It's…I just wish…" she stopped as she pondered the cold gray metal of the floor beneath her.
"You wish that we'd been able to save more of your unit," Shepard said softly, sympathetically. "So do I, Ashley."
The chief looked back up to the officer in front of her. "I've lost friends before, in deployments or training accidents, but I've never seen it happen. I had to talk with those psych officers, and we talked, but…they haven't had it happen to them. To see their friends get cut down without mercy by those fucking robots. I mean…how do you get over that?"
Shepard sighed. "Honestly? You don't fully get over it. You'll always remember what happened. I still remember everyone that I've lost. And the other soldiers on Elysium, the civilians there…" She sighed and closed her eyes. "But the nightmares will fade in time." Most of them, anyway, the commander didn't added.
Williams was taken aback. How did Shepard even know she had a nightmare? It took her several moments to continue. "I…I've actually never lost someone under my command before. It's…I mean, you've lost people before."
Shepard closed her eyes. "Too many."
Silence hung in the air between the two women. "It's…writing those letters, doing those vid calls…it's hard," the chief finally said, her eyes moist.
"It's the hardest thing I've had to do," Shepard agreed with a sad look. "And I wish I could say it gets easier." But it doesn't.
"I mean, what do you tell the parents? The spouses? The…kids?" She choked back a sob.
"You tell them that their loved one did their best and you did your best. That's all you can really say. Because even though everyone did their best, sometimes…it just doesn't make a difference," Shepard said sadly. "You have to reflect on it, what happened, and do everything you can do to prevent it from happening again. You remember their sacrifice, and you push forward to complete the mission, so it didn't happen in vain," Shepard said sadly. "And you also have to talk about it, with others. You can't just hold it in. Otherwise it will just eat you up. I never hold it against anyone for just talking about it, for letting it out. It'd be rather hypocritical of me to do so." Shepard paused. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Williams looked up, tentative, knowing that talking would help, but still hesitating.
"As far as I'm concerned, you're assigned to the Normandy for as long as you'd like. I never hold it against someone for talking through their problems. As I said, it'd be hypocritical of me," she repeated.
The chief was again surprised at the fact the commander had seemingly read her thoughts. Was she that obvious? "Yeah…I…do," she said finally, quietly.
"Talk me through what happened," Shepard said softly. So the chief did, talking through every detail immediately leading up to the attack and the attack itself, until Alenko and Shepard met up with her. She let the tears flow, but when it was over, Chief Williams felt oddly better.
Shepard sighed as she looked at the ship's location. Some of the chief's sorrow seemed to have transferred to her in the discussion, but their talk did seem to help the chief, so it was a win in the commander's book.
The Normandy had already in the Artemis Tau cluster, in FTL for their first system to search. Was it that late already? The newest ship CO in the Alliance still hadn't completed her rounds of the crew. She stifled a small yawn as she entered the engine room, talking with several of the crew, asking questions about them and their jobs.
Adams quickly told her, "You know that quarian? Tali? She's been spending all her time down here asking about our engines. She's got a real knack for technology." He couldn't help but snort in amusement. "Give her a month on board and she'll know more about our engines than I do, and I help design and build this damn thing! I can see why you wanted her to come along."
The commander nodded, a grin appearing on her face. "I thought it would be silly not to bring her along, with her knowledge of ships and her knowledge of the geth."
"You sure picked a smart one," he said.
"Glad she is working out," Shepard responded, then her smile was replaced with a cautious expression. "Just keep in mind the sensitivity of some capabilities and the manufacturing details."
Adams nodded in acknowledgement.
"How's the drive core handling?"
"Like a dream. It almost has too much power—we have to be careful not to stomp on the gas too quickly." The two continued their discussion for several minutes about how the engines were performing, with Shepard asking if there was anything the engineering team needed.
The commander then caught up with Tali for several minutes. "Your ship's amazing!" the quarian half-shouted, half-squealed. "I've never seen a drive core like this before. I can't believe you were able to fit it into a ship this small. I'm starting to understand why you humans have been so successful. I had no idea Alliance vessels were so advanced!" the quarian exclaimed with unconcealed glee.
"The Normandy is a state-of-the-art prototype," the commander said with a chuckle, picturing Tali under the mask having an ear-to-ear grin.
"But to build such a ship, with only a few decades' of knowledge of eezo, after only uncovering a few prothean data caches!" Tali continued.
"We picked up quickly on what other species had been working on," Shepard replied. But after hearing Tali say it out loud did make the commander realize just how far humanity had come in such a short period of time.
They talked for a couple minutes before Shepard asked, "Would you mind telling me a little more about your Pilgrimage? I have heard of it, but I don't know the specifics."
"I'm surprised that you've even heard of it. Most non-quarians haven't. Can I ask…where you heard about our Pilgrimage?" Tali asked.
Shepard shrugged as she let out a quick, forced grin that, to anyone else, would seem normal. "I grew up on a small colony. There wasn't a whole lot to do on a small colony, so I read a lot."
Tali hadn't been around humans before leaving the flotilla, and she knew next to nothing about human emotions and body language, but quarians could pick up on the slightest change in body posture in any species, as they couldn't look their own species in the eyes except on rare circumstances. Shepard had told the truth, but clearly omitted other details. Shepard didn't want to talk more about her childhood…but the young quarian couldn't just dismiss it as her limited knowledge of humans. The thoughts caused the Tali to noticeably pause before explaining. "To maintain genetic diversity among the fleet, we have to move ships after we reach adulthood. But no ship wants to accept someone who will be a burden on them. So, to prove our worth, we embark on a Pilgrimage, returning only once we have found something of value we can bring back to the fleet."
"What were you planning to bring back?" Shepard asked inquisitively.
"Information on the geth. My father…well, he is the senior member of the Admiralty Board. He is one of only five people that can overrule a decision by our civilian government."
"So…because of his position and the expectations on you, you have to bring back something extraordinarily valuable," the commander stated.
"Exactly right. Something that will be valuable for our entire species," the quarian replied, impressed at Shepard's knowledge of quarian culture, and wondering again about Shepard's childhood.
"You've been a tremendous help so far with the information on Saren. I'll check to see what the Alliance can provide – "
"No! I need to…" Tali interjected, then paused. "Sorry, Commander, for interrupting you," she continued, ashamed, looking at the floor and fidgeting with her fingers.
Shepard chuckled and shook her head. "Don't worry about it, Tali."
"I…appreciate the help, but this is something I have to do on my own. I can't have it given to me. The point of the Pilgrimage is we have to earn a place on a ship."
"As far as I'm concerned, the evidence you provided us against Saren earns you whatever you'd like from the Alliance. If you need geth technology or salvage, I suspect we will encountering geth in the not too distant future," the commander replied. They continued talking for a few minutes, mostly about the geth. The galaxy's newest Spectre wanted as much information on their synthetic adversaries as possible.
Commander Shepard stifled a yawn as she finally made her way up to the helm to chat with the crew at the front of the ship.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping or something?" Joker asked her.
"Gotta make the rounds first before calling it a night," she grinned, but with a slightly tired smile.
"If you say so." The pilot paused. "Hey, uh, Commander. There's something that you should know," Joker said.
"What?" she asked, the grin gone, feeling her suspicion grow at the pilot's clearly faux nervousness.
"After we exited relay transit, I downloaded an update from the comm buoy. There were some pictures and vids I downloaded from the extranet," he told her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Joker? The nav computer better not be chock full of viruses because you went to one of those asari sites again," she sighed.
He held his hands up in indignation. "Commander! I would never do such a thing! You insult me, madam!"
"Uh huh," she replied, completely unconvinced as she crossed her arms. "Let me guess. Ransomware? Trojan horses? Or did you discover an entirely new form of polymorphic malware during your…explorations?"
"It is nothing of the sort! I found pictures related to current events!" he replied, the edges of his mouth tugging at a grin that he was trying his best to hold in.
"What's so special about a few pictures?" she asked, fatigue slowing her thinking, but the realization starting to dawn that it wasn't anything good.
"Go ahead and take a seat. Here, I'll show you!" he told her, a positively wicked grin appearing on his face.
She hesitated a moment, tentatively sitting in the seat next to him, her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at the pilot. "Joker, if this is anything that has – "
"I swear, Commander, it's nothing objectionable to even the prudes!
Shepard wasn't convinced. "Sure it isn't."
He paused a moment, and a wide grin appeared on his face. "Actually, it's about you."
Shepard was taken aback. "Me?" she asked quietly with a couple wide-eyed blinks. Her confused expression changed to a mix of alarm, soon replaced by disgust and an angry scowl. "Flight Lieutenant Jeffrey Moreau," she said sternly. "If this is any of that so-called 'art' of me that's – "
"Oh no," the pilot said defensively, for once dropping his amused expression to be serious. "Don't worry, it's absolutely not that," he assured her honestly, before returning to amusement. "Rather, it's a few pictures of you on the Citadel…let's see, what was it, three nights ago? When you were in the Wards, I believe?" He grinned widely at her.
It took several seconds for the realization to dawn on her, and when it did, her eyes widened as a sudden sense of dread filled her. "No."
"Yes." Joker suppressed his laughter as best he could, as he pressed a button on his screen to bring up a picture. It only took him a moment to burst into uncontrollable cackling, causing his ribs to ache at the sudden and rapid motion. But right now, he didn't care about the pain. This was too priceless.
Shepard winced as she looked at the image. The picture had been taken in the Wards, with only her in view. That wasn't the problem, though. The problem was the armor she wore in the picture.
"And it's gone viral, too," he managed to say in between cackles.
Horrified, she started scrolling through the pic and vid library. Sure enough, pictures of the first human Spectre wearing partially pink armor had spawned a veritable fountain of memes. Shepard moaned, putting her forehead in her palms before the back of her hands hit the console in front of her.
"You actually had to wear that?" he asked between cackling.
A pained utterance came from somewhere under her hands and the mass of blonde hair.
Joker managed to stop laughing for a few seconds. He patted Shepard on the back. "It's okay, Commander. It could have been worse. I mean, the armor isn't entirely pink. Never go full pink." He laughed for another five seconds before he continued. "And a security cam transmitted a vid of your big biotic black hole of death thing in that club you trashed. And then you destroyed the camera along with the rest of the club. What do you call those black hole things again?"
Shepard didn't move, and it took a few seconds before she muttered "singularity" from her current position.
"So people still saw that singularity you did! They still saw you kick all of that ass while still wearing pink!" Joker patted her on the back again.
The commander muttered a frustrated curse, not bothering to move from her current position of her head in her hands, listening to the pilot laugh and cackle at her expense as he read off captions from the best memes.
Shepard yawned for the third time in as many minutes, fatigue finally working to put aside her frustration and embarrassment at the pink armor incident going viral.
She was exhausted, not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. She took her time going down the steps, not wanting to trip and fall flat on her face.
The Normandy's crew had done a tremendous job getting the ship ready for deployment. They spent several hours of scrambling to get everything in order. Supplies, weapons, and perishables – especially the turian and quarian rations – had to be brought aboard, while Shepard had to meet with a couple members of Parliament that were conveniently on the Citadel at the moment, as well as set up her Spectre accounts, then she had been required to meet with the Press Corps to record a brief statement. Then she had to sneak out with cover from a squad of marines from the embassy to get back to the Normandy's dock, since reporters had congregated outside the Alliance embassy...the list had gone on and on. Running shoes weren't anywhere close to regulation footwear for dress whites, but they would have come in very handy today.
Lieutenant Alenko had about a half hour before he stood to relieve Pressly as the OOD. Kaidan currently stood at the log and inventory console, reviewing the supplies they had brought on board at the Citadel, and making a list of what additional items he wanted for the next resupply. Would have been nice to persuade AMC for a few extra overload grenades… Considering that the Normandy was sure to encounter more geth, he wanted to get as many tech grenades and damping mines as possible. Apparently there was a shortage of anti-synthetic weaponry in the inventory. Of all times, he thought sourly. Well, biotics did work quite well on Eden Prime…
The console, coincidentally, happened to be adjacent to the CO's quarters. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the commander come down the stairs, and since she was still wearing her whites, the fact dawned on him that she had been in her quarters to take a nap like practically everyone else on board. She'd been up for almost a day straight…and it had been a busy day for her.
She stopped several feet from his console and asked him softly, "Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"
"I should really be asking that question to you," was his reply, and he received a slight grin in return. "I'm not really that tired. Just had a couple cups of coffee. I take over for Pressly in a half hour."
"I try to avoid that stuff. Caffeine makes me too jumpy and shaky. Probably preferable to the bug juice, though," she said with an amused look, referring to the uncaffeinated orange juice available in the crew lounge. The drink contained energy and vital proteins, but as its constituents were mostly unknown to Alliance crews and it almost appeared to glow a faint orange when the lights were dimmed, its composition was a constant source of jokes on ships. The commander let out a long sigh, looking down slightly and leaning to one side. "What a day—oh wait. It's morning now," she muttered with a slight chuckle
"And what a week," he agreed. "A week ago we were back on Earth. Now we're chasing a rogue Spectre across the galaxy."
"Yeah. Eden Prime…the geth, that ship, this Conduit…we still know next to nothing, except whatever the beacon dumped into my head," she said, almost a whisper.
He bit his lip. "Have you been able to make any new sense of it?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head. "No. Just the same disjointed mess. All I know is that it I should be terrified, but…I don't really know why I should be terrified," she said quietly. "Other than it might be those Reaper…murderbots."
Despite the topic, the lieutenant couldn't help but laugh. "'Murderbots?'"
Shepard grinned back at him. "Spectre privileges. We can add whatever words we want to the dictionary." She let out another sigh as her smile faded. "I'm grabbing a quick snack before going to bed. Care to join me?" she asked tentatively after a moment of hesitation.
"Sure," he replied. "Though given how long you've been up, you may want to just go straight to bed."
She chuckled slightly, replying with, "Not sure about you, but this biotic can't fall asleep on an empty stomach." Neither officer said anything else while they each grabbed their snacks, and Shepard broke the long silence after fidgeting with the wrapping on her large granola bar. "We are now going to get first priority on any Mk 71s in the inventory when we return to Arcturus." She opened the snack and took a bite as she looked at him.
Alenko raised his eyebrow at the info. The Mark 71 missiles were still in limited supply, and the ship had departed Eden Prime with a full load of Mk 71s, which told him just how much the Alliance thought of the Normandy. All other ships would only get a handful of the Mk 71s; most would be the older Mk 65 Mod 3 or 4 – while the 65 was still an excellent missile, it didn't have the increased speed and improved protection against GARDIAN fire. "Really? I didn't think they had many in storage at Arcturus, and we already have a full loadout. How did we manage that?"
Shepard swallowed the bite of food, then answered, a slightly amused expression now on her face. "A bit of a stink may or may not have been raised. There was a vid call, attended by a couple of parliamentarians on the Appropriations Committee present. It was a chance to remind them that the inventory isn't a cornucopia, and weapons still have to be produced after they are designed. Warshots just don't grow on trees."
That had been a continuing problem from the Appropriations Committee. Not only were they a bit tight with a buck, they tended to spend a disproportionate amount on R&D. While it had generated technological marvels like the Normandy, they often didn't procure enough munitions for their weapon systems, resulting in low stocks in the inventory. "I wonder if they'll have us test any of those new Mk 93s," Alenko thought aloud.
Shepard shrugged. "Maybe. Given how much this ship probably cost – I still don't know, by the way – what's the additional cost a few more incredibly expensive missiles?" Her lighthearted expression then darkened. "If we have them…well, I hope we don't have to use them. I'd rather not have to fight a dreadnought," she finished quietly.
Alenko nodded agreement. Since the 93s were mostly designed to be anti-dreadnaught, with capabilities to help them get past the picket screen and GARDIAN, pairing those missiles with a stealth ship seemed like a sound choice. However, the shooter would first have to get past picket cruisers and frigates to get in a shot. He did not relish the thought of having to close on a dreadnaught in those circumstances, stealth frigate or not. Especially against Saren's ship…
"I also had to give an explanation that we can only use Mod 4s, 71s, or 93s. Nothing else. Unless there's another cold launched missile in the inventory that they haven't told me about. Hot launched torpedoes will, you know, damage our hull with its expensive stealth system. Just something that we maybe want to consider," she said dryly.
Alenko chuckled at her comment, both in amusement and frustration at the lack of understanding that some people in the Ministry of Defense had about military hardware. While most people never needed to know about the differences between a cold and hot launched missile, the lieutenant felt that the civilians that sat on the Defense Committee and worked in the Ministry of Defense itself certainly should.
Alenko subconsciously looked over his new CO as they chatted, and he saw that she was tired. Really tired. She had been up for nearly a full day now, and it had been rather hectic for her. While it seemed that while she wanted to talk to him longer, it looked to be a struggle for her just to keep her eyes open. She finished her granola bars and stifled yet another yawn.
"I'm sorry for the yawning, Alenko. Let's get some rest before we reach Artemis Tau. I'd like to chat more later, though."
"So would I," Kaidan agreed. Shepard stood, straightened her skirt, and walked towards her quarters.
She forced her eyes to stay open as she entered her tiny room. Fatigue had completely replaced her earlier nerves. She did expend the energy to off her uniform and hang it up properly in the closet. Her mind told her that she didn't know when she would need it next, and removing wrinkles from it was a pain. She didn't bother with much else, though, choosing to simply collapse onto the bed, not bothering with the covers. She was asleep within twenty seconds.