I rushed back to consciousness with a flash of light. All I remembered was helping Samantha with her math homework before rounds tore through the downstairs windows. From the second floor of the house, I was able to return fire, all while shielding Sam, who huddled behind me as my armor deflected the rounds. Out of habit, I always wore the leg and arm plating from my Marine Advanced Warfighter armor, and usually had the chest piece handy in case I needed it. I also wore my leather duster with Kevlar/graphene nanoweave from when I was a Marshal in Nevada, before being transferred back to Denver. I remembered seeing the last merc falling, fiddling with something on his wrist and laughing like the Joker. Out of instinct, I had pulled Sam closer to me, shielding her from whatever was about to happen. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was a bright flash; accompanied by a massive boom I felt more than heard.
I was surprised that I wasn't dust, much less alive. I felt a familiar weight on my chest and when I opened my eyes, I saw my daughter sleeping peacefully while cuddling her Pinkie Pie plushie and my arm. Absent, however, was the weight of my armor. Moving carefully to avoid waking Sam, I scanned the room. It appeared to be an infirmary, though certain parts looked like they belonged on the Infinity from Halo. Turning further, I spotted an older woman staring intently at what I guessed was a computer, unaware that I was awake. I felt my daughter squirm, yawning and sleepily rubbing her eye.
"Good morning daddy," she quietly said, before her blue eyes shot open and she wrapped me in a hug. "Daddy! You're awake! Doctor Chakwas! My dad is awake!"
"So I see. I told you he would be fine," the woman smiled as she approached the bed. "Hello Thom. I'm Doctor Chakwas, Chief Medical Officer aboard the Normandy. Your daughter informed us of who you are, but she declined to explain how you two got here, preferring to let you talk. She's very wise for her age."
"Well it's nice to meet you, Doc. Thanks for patching me up, but what is the Normandy? Last I checked the naval registry, the US didn't have a Normandy in the fleet."
"The US? Oh, the United States. It hasn't been called that in almost fifty years."
"What are you on about? Fifty years ago was 1976." I was confused, though an idea was dawning on me that seemed impossible, or at least theoretical.
"1976 was over 200 years ago, its 2185. Either the concussion you have was worse than I thought, or you actually believe you're from 2026."
The doctor tapped something on her arm and a circular orange hologram appeared around her hand, which she then proceeded to wave over my body. Chakwas raised an eyebrow before tapping the hologram again.
"Commander, the girl's father has woken up. You'd better get down here," Chakwas said into the device.
"Copy, be right down," another woman replied.
Moments later a woman with red hair in what appeared to be fatigues strode into the room, followed by another woman in skin tight white clothes with black accents that had a subtle, probably armored, texture to it.
Samantha waved at the first woman, "Hi Ms. Shepard. This is my daddy," she greeted before squeezing me again, a huge grin on her face.
"Hey squirt. Told ya he'd be awake in no time," the woman replied jovially before shifting her gaze towards me. "I'm Commander Jacklyn Shepard, commanding officer of the Normandy. This is my XO, Miranda." The woman trying to cosplay Catwoman looked down her nose at me. Great, as if I didn't have enough shit to deal with.
My body had stiffened for a moment at the mention of Shepard's rank, but I relaxed myself. I wasn't in the military anymore, I didn't specifically need to stand at attention, only if the situation demanded it or I was in the presence of someone worthy of respect, like a field officer or MOH recipient. Then again, once a Marine, always a Marine. Sitting up in the bed, Samantha slid to the floor, waiting patiently as the adults talked. I popped my neck loudly as I stood up, feeling sharp points of pain throughout my back. I could feel the wounds knitting themselves, courtesy of DARPA and the CIA, so I ignored the pain. It seemed the good doctor had removed whatever shrapnel was in me, and the feeling of gauze supported that.
"A pleasure Commander. Sergeant Major Thom Carter, United States Marine Corps, retired. Also US Marshal Thom Carter. I see you've already met the adorable little ball of cuddles that is my daughter." I poked my daughter's head as I spoke to the Commander, receiving little giggles each time. Shepard smiled brightly, but Miranda just rolled her eyes, giving me a glare.
The Commander looked me over, not checking me out, rather trying to gauge how good of a fighter I was. She nodded slightly before speaking up, "Should you even be up right now? From what Chakwas told me, you were pretty banged up."
Doctor Chakwas sighed, "No he shouldn't be up." She turned to me, semi-seriously glaring at me, before continuing, "Aside from the concussion and glass and metal fragments in your back, your remaining vertebrae are compressed, your right arm is fractured in three places, and one of your lungs was collapsed. Honestly, it's surprising you're awake so soon. You were only out for three hours."
I just shrugged my shoulders, already knowing why everything had healed so quickly. "Well it'll take more than just an incredibly large explosion to put me down. I feel fine, aside from a slight sensation of not knowing where the hell I am."
"Sergeant," Miranda spoke up, with an Aussie accent no less, with a sneer on her face. "I don't know who you're trying to fool, but the US hasn't existed for fifty years, at least. Pick a better story."
Staring the woman down for a moment, I smirked and turned to my daughter. "Sammy, does Pinkie still have the medal I gave you?" She nodded before pulling a medal from a concealed pocket on the plush pony's flank. She gently handed it to me, before turning to look at Miranda, glaring adorably at her.
"Daddy doesn't like being called a liar," she said dryly. I fought to keep the grin off my face at that little statement.
I pulled my dog tags off my neck and handed them and the medal to the Commander. "If I was lying, then why would I have authentic dog tags and a Medal of Honor?"
Shepard nodded, seeming to accept what I had said. "These haven't been awarded in decades. What'd you get it for?"
"I was just doing my job. I did what I had to in order to get civilians out of a tight spot. Might not have been the smartest thing to do, but I was a Marine Raider. Besides, I crawled out of that building with most of my body parts still attached." I declined to go into more detail, glancing at Sam and shaking my head slightly so Shepard would take the hint. Sam had asked about the medal when I gave it to her so she always knew I was around for her. All I had said was that I did something very brave and very stupid, and it cost me my left eye, but it also saved a lot of people. I figured I would tell her about it when she's older. She knows I was in the war and that I had to kill people, but she doesn't need to know how many right now.
The commander nodded somberly, handing them back to me, "That kind of action usually is. Well then, Sergeant Major, let me officially welcome you aboard the SR-2 Normandy." Shepard swept her arms out in a grandiose gesture, while Lawson just rolled her eyes.
"Yeah about that Commander, " I turned slightly, taking in the med-bay. I felt Sam lean up harder against my leg, nodding off again, so I picked her up so she could sleep against my shoulder. Fractured arm my ass. "I still have friends in the Fleet, and from what I remember, the US Navy has never had a Normandy. Who do you sail for?"
Commander Shepard stared at me for a moment, this time actually checking me out, and then gestured towards a pile of clothes that I assumed were mine. "Jesus did they carve you from granite?" She shook her head before continuing. "It looks like you'll have to catch up on a few things, and some things are easier to show you, so you should get dressed."
I nodded and gently laid Sam down on the medical bunk, before beginning to pull on my clothes and armor. As the greaves and boots automatically adjusted and sealed in place, I glanced up at the commander.
"Let me guess, we're on some sort of advanced ship hurtling through space at incredible speeds, and my daughter and I are almost 200 years in the future, which may or may not even be our own future."
Shepard's jaw dropped slightly, and even Miranda looked impressed. "How the hell did you figure that out?" Shepard asked after regaining her composure.
"I'm a sci-fi nerd, a special forces Marine, and a US Marshal. I'm much smarter than Catwoman here thinks," I said, gesturing towards Miranda. "There's no engine noise for one thing. No matter how much the engineers insist, fission powered ships still make noise. Second there's no sound of water up against the hull. Third, something about you just screams 'Space Marine'. Plus the holograms the doc has were a pretty big clue," I finished as I secured the last bits of my armor in place before moving back to Sam to pick her up.
"In my time, we'd barely gotten back to the moon, though Musk was doing good work. There was research into armed satellites or even setting up a space station for quick deployment of Marines, at least from NASA's end, but it was all just discussion. And above my pay grade. I've always been interested in stuff like that, and I'm more accepting than most, so believing I'm on a spaceship in the future isn't world shattering for me. I'm guessing there isn't much I can do about it right now, so having a panic attack won't do anything but worry Sammy. Now what was it you wanted to show me, Commander? And I hope it's not your quarters. I may be a ridiculously handsome individual, but I'm not a piece of meat," I said with a smirk that'd make Han Solo jealous.
Silence passed for a moment, and the shocked look on Miranda's face priceless. Then Shepard and I dropped our composure enough to laugh, though hers sounded a bit forced. I failed to notice her blush as she led us out of the medical bay to give us a tour of the Normandy.