This Form Does Not Matter; I Know This Hurts You, Reader.
Room 143, Lower Hub Hotel, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 18, 2183
Professor Irissa T'vara awoke to the sound of a trilling Human-oriented alarm beeping beside her somewhere as the seven-hundred and forty-three year old Matriarch turned slightly and deactivated the alarms' incessant beeping. A pained groan beside her reminded Irissa that she was not alone in either the Human-oriented bedroom or Human-oriented bed as she turned back to look upon the sight of a brunette Human Maiden, laying under the comforting warming blankets and within the self-warming field of the bed, looking a little worse for wear. A bleary blue eye opened as the Humans' head turned to look at Irissa, a slow if pained smile cracked across her rose-colored lips, her face slightly pale… and tinged a bit green?
"Feel terrible." Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder spoke softly, her voice cracking slightly as she winced. "My first major hangover. Hooray."
"I believe that your Aunt gave me some sort of medication that would help you with the condition. She called it a… 'Morning After' pill?" That had Sara groaning.
"I sincerely hope she gave you the 'morning after drinking' hangover pill, and not… the other one." Sara grumped, perplexing the Professor slightly. Well, what else would someone need for a morning after? Still, the Asarikin found the aforementioned medication on the bedside table and handed it over to her Human lover, watching as the Maiden swallowed it. "Ugh. What time is it, anyways?"
"It is 0645 Arcturus Station Time, fair one." Irissa slipped an easy hand over the plain of Sara's abdomen, feeling the muscles that bulged out slightly, six river stone-like protrusions that sat side-by-side in a line, dimpled by her navel in between the two lower sets. Asari were not muscled that way, and she found that she rather liked running her hands over what Sara called 'her six-pack'. One of her blue fingers were currently drawing laps around the hardened muscles of Sara's six-pack, getting a little smile out of the Human Maiden. "Your Aunt mentioned that you did not have to arrive on-ship until 1200 hours. I believe you are not to be the only Human suffering your Morning After. I believe one of your Marines challenged Urdnot Wrex into a drinking contest. The one you call Ball Sack?" The Professor was not a hundred percent certain what that entailed, but as she understood it, the Marines' other nicknames were generally sexually harassing in nature. And they liked it that way. That had Sara snort a little as she laid upon her back, adjusting slightly into a more comfortable position, resting her head upon hands behind her long, silky crest.
"Idiot."
"Indeed." Trying to getting into a drinking contest with a Krogan was generally considered an inept idea. She had done so herself back when she was a Sister Hospitaller after earning her Grace of Athame, feeling as if she were indestructible. That particular night had proved her quite incorrect. Irissa's finger continued to trace Sara's muscled abdomen as the Maiden looked to her, looking a little better.
"I… do want to talk to you about something." Sara's tone was not of the normal conversation, meaning that it was something that was on her mind, something important. "I know that likely, when we reach Council Space or perhaps even beforehand, you will need to return to your duties as Dean of your department." T'vara stopped tracing the shape of Sara's abdomen, looking into Sara's blue eyes. She was beginning to understand Sara's reluctance towards this conversation, but it did need to happen. "I've… really enjoyed our time together on Therum, and…
"…and I really don't want it to stop."
Ah.
"Sara," Irissa took Sara's hands into one of her own, giving her a gentle smile, "do you know why I stayed behind on Therum? Truly?"
"I… I guess I do." The Human Maiden frowned slightly, her lower lip pouting out in that adorable way that Irissa found so fascinating and… cute. "You did it for me."
"I did, fair one." The Dean replied, nodding her head as she readjusted herself so that she could talk to her lover properly, propping her head up with her left arm while holding one of Sara's hands with her other. "It has been a long time since I have felt this way for someone, Sara. I know there have been those of my profession and those I call dear and friend to me that wished for me to move on, but I never met anyone that made me want to try." The Asarikin felt herself a little lost in thought, thinking of Janus Tiberix, the proud Turian male that had somehow found the way into her heart all those years ago. It had been over three hundred years since he passed away of old age, and Irissa did not find anyone since that made her feel as he had. Correction, she never felt the need to look, honestly.
Until Sara.
Irissa did not know when it happened, or even really how. But when that first Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarm went off, the Professor had felt nothing but fear and dread lancing through her heart at the thought of an attack. What was worse was that, in her mind's eye, all she could see was her fair one dead upon the ground, dying to defend the innocent, but still dead. That emotional response had surprised her, to be sure, and a large part of her enjoyed that she felt something so deep and personal about someone once more. She had not wanted Sara in danger, yet that part of it was who Sara was; a defender, a profession chosen by herself and worked up with years and dedication. That first alarm had showed Irissa what she had yet to see within herself.
That second alarm had told her she had a choice in making the most of it.
When the Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarm rang for less than three seconds before being cut-off, the Professor knew. Both Sara and herself had talked about the possibility, had worked upon faster methods to account and evacuate both Team Serrice and Oxford together if the worst should happen. When the alarm had been cut-off, silenced mid-ring, the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies knew that to best help Sara was to do her duty correctly; to collect and evacuate the members of both her team and the Oxford Team to the shuttles. It had taken only ten minutes to gather everyone and to reach the extraction point with little fuss, the earlier alarm and the seriousness noticeable to everyone, making her job easier. Yet when they reached the shuttles, sequestering everyone inside, Irissa thought of Sara, and her heart quaked.
Houxin, I will not let you have this one!
There had been too many sapients to load into the shuttles, the inclusion of the members of the Citadel Department of Prothean Knowledge giving her the excuse to give up her seat. Irissa had every intent on going back to where her fair one had pinpointed a good choke point to hold off Geth forces, to maximize the Marine's firepower and limit Geth numbers. The addition of Centurion Abadexus Linaseus had been a welcoming one, especially when two other Hasti Reservists had too included themselves. Doctor Liara T'soni had volunteered as well, having figured out how to operate a portion of the Dig Site's Prothean security system to further stymie Geth intrusion. The five of them had included themselves into the desperate defense, forgoing evacuation for reinforcement.
"So you want this to continue? To be with me?" Sara asked, her tone hopeful, her blue eyes growing a little brighter.
"Yes, fair one. I do." The Professor smiled as she cupped the Maiden's face and brought her cerulean lips to Sara's own rosy ones, giving a deep kiss, feeling the Humans' lips part to let the Asarikin's tongue slip inside. That was an act quite different from those Irissa had been with before, 'Frenching' evidently being a Human invention. It really was quite pleasant, and Sara's tongue was both smooth and sweet. The kiss ended a moment later, but the look upon the Maiden's face said it all.
"I won't lie, I'm not sure what the future is going to hold." Ryder said to the Professor, her thoughts obviously on the Geth War. Irissa did not doubt that Sara's 'Auntie', newly-promoted Captain Jane Shepard, would request the Corpsman's presence upon the SSV Normandy, possibly being one of the best-qualified sapients she would likely find for the Council Agent's eclectic crew. Even T'vara admitted to herself that she would not have been able to hold a candle to Sara in terms of medical diversity. She had only trained as an Asari Health Care Provider, along with the most basic of knowledge for Salarians and Turians, mostly knowing how to check for vitals. Irissa knew that Sara had been trained by an Emergency Care Technician in the Citadel Emergency Medical Service to provide medical assistance for most every species on the Citadel. Now she was likely going to serve on warship that was host to a Council Agent and several species. "When we ship out, I'm not even sure when we might see each other again." That admission came with a look of worry and fear.
"My dear, do not fret." Irissa slipped her arm around Sara's bared lower torso, looking to the Maiden. "I know that I will be on the Citadel for some time, which is where most of my time is spent performing duties for my Department. It is, after all, much easier to collaborate and cooperate with others of my profession on the Cit than it would be to expect Protheantologists to come to the University of Serrice. Even with what research we were able to glean upon Therum will be shared and investigated upon the Citadel, submitted to the Citadel Department of Prothean Knowledge for distribution. As your Commanding Officer is a SPECTRE on a high-value mission for the Council, I image that you will be returning to the Widow System on more than a few occasions. When you do, Chirp me and I would be more than happy to have you over at my domicile while you are there."
"I… wow." Sara's eyes went a little wide at that, and her cheeks grew more rosy in hue, indicating that she was blushing. Obviously, there was something in Human culture that Irissa touched upon that she was not aware of. "Oh! I… um, should probably explain, since you look a little confused right now!"
"I assume that I may have stumbled upon some Human etiquette that I am not aware of?
"Well, yes and no." Sara looked a little uncomfortable at first. "For a Human relationship, you've… kind of opened your house to me. That generally entails a deeper level of relationship that merely seeing one another or dating. It means… I guess the best way to put it is to say that you're comfortable enough to let me into your private space and private life. I don't know the Asari equivalent to compare it to."
"I see." The Professor actually understood what Sara was implying. For an Asari to have someone over for a short period of time, lover or not, was merely a social grace of either convenience or agreement. But as Irissa understood it, Humans saw it much in the same light as, say… asking one to bondmeld. Perhaps not as intimate, but close to it. In Sara's mind, Irissa was inviting the Human Maiden into her personal spaces much like an Asari would feel when involving the deeper, more intimate melds. "While such a thing is not seen in the same light, I now understand what it means to you. My offer still stands, fair one; I would be more than happy to have you over." The Asarikin brushed one of Sara's cheeks with the tip of a finger, getting the Corpsman to shiver slightly. "Amongst my kind, we have melds that are of the same equivalency, a deeper sort of melding that involves more than just surface cerebral emotions and pleasantries. What we normally do would be compared to your… dating." The term was cute in a rustic sort of way. "I have… thought about it myself."
"Is that the melding in which thoughts and memories can be shared?" Sara asked, naturally curious.
"That is the mere wording of it, but the reality of it is more intense." Irissa replied, knowing that it would be difficult to explain to one who had never done it before, Asarikin or not. "If one wishes to bondmeld, it is… a joining between two sapients, a union of mind and soul. Say… I believe that a good explanation that would make sense to you would be like what yourself and your twin brother share, yet with someone that you find appealing into sharing your life with. As you said so yourself, a deeper level of relationship that involves a beings' private space and life, in many more ways than a domicile, though I understand why that is important to you; physical trust. This is why the loss of a bondmate is so devastating to an Asari; if feels that you are losing not just one that you shared so much with, but a part of ones' self as well." It was rare that Irissa did not feel the loss of Janus Tiberix for at least a small portion of a day.
"There isn't really a great Human equivalent to that save for the loss of a family member, like a parent or sibling." Sara said thoughtfully, nodding. "I know if I lost Scottie, I would be absolutely devastated. I often feel the same way when I think of him, so I understand that portion of it. I would think…" She went quiet for a moment, frowning. "I've seen Asari 'date' other species, and even bonded pairs. If it's so traumatic, why would an Asari bond so intimately with someone who would live such a shorter period of time? Why not remain within your own species?" Irissa understood that Sara was being curious, to better understand, not necessarily mean to cause grief. She had hit upon a question that was sometimes the very nature of current Asari philosophy.
"Why not you, may I ask?" T'vara smiled as Sara blushed a little at the question, realizing that she had obviously walked into that one. "For the very same reasons, I imagine. I do not know why most Humans are attracted to my kind besides the obviousness of physical attraction initially. For yourself, it was not about physical beauty at first, this I know. Despite the misgivings and obstacles that you faced, you continued your relationship with me. Why?"
"Because I think you're worth it." Sara replied softly, looking into Irissa's cyan eyes.
"Is there truthfully a better answer to your question as well, then?" The Professor, poised, making the Maiden nod in understanding. "I bonded with Janus Tiberix because I loved him. It still hurt to this day when I think of him, but I believe it to be worth it; I shared my life and myself with someone I found worthy of it."
"That makes total sense." Sara smiled once more, her arms slipping around Irissa and pulling her in gently. "Thank you for sharing with me, dear. I know those weren't easy questions, so I appreciate your candor with me." Sara leaned forward to kiss her, and Irissa gently pushed a little of her Biotic energy into the act. One kiss led to another, and the Human Maiden was smiling at her. "Well, the anti-hangover pills are doing their magic. Don't feel like crap anymore." Sara's cute eyebrows went up twice with heavy implication. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I am." The Professor smiled as she slid herself on top of Sara, inserting herself in between the Human's silky smooth thighs as she felt Sara slipping her feet behind her. "I would like… to go a little deeper with you, Sara. Something a little more intimate, if you are willing."
"I would like that." The Corpsman answered a little breathlessly, her blue eyes glistening a little at the thought. "Just tell me what I need to do, Irissa."
"Clear your mind of thoughts, and feel out with your emotions." Irissa began, her voice but a whisper. "I want you to focus upon your feelings to me, and imagine that they are tangible. Push them towards me as if they are a physical gift, an offering for one that you care for." The Asarikin was doing the same thing that she was informing the Human Maiden to do, pushing out with her mind to connect with Sara's. Her bioelectrical field expanded to match with Sara's, Irissa knowing that her eyes having grown darker with the process as she felt the tendrils of connection meeting, slowly integrating with her physiology. The Human gasped with surprise as her pupils expanded larger and larger, her own blue irises almost disappearing as Irissa felt the first stage of a true mental connection, what was known as a Joining Meld. Sara looked at her with almost completely pupiled eyes, her face one of rapture and adoration as she slipped a hand behind Irissa's head holding her close.
"Oh my God…" Sara gasped as her body gyrated under her own, clenching onto the Professor tightly. "Is this… a Joining?"
"Yes, dear one, it is." Irissa smiled as the Human looked at her with black-filled eyes.
"It's… incredible!" The tone said it all to the Asarikin, the amazement in the Petty Officers' voice, the look of complete joy upon her face as she looked upon Irissa. "I've heard that this level of melding was suppose to be intense and intimate, but words didn't do it justice! It's like… I can feel what you feel."
"Yes." Irissa smiled, feeling Sara's own emotional response; the wonder, the joy, the tentative exploration of this new experience. But behind those? The thirst for knowledge, the willingness to create, the iron will of determination, and… a rosy glow of affection for those dear to her, each one a slightly different shade for those who mattered. The one that was closest to the surface at the moment was her own, a pulsing glow of affection… and love. Sara loved her, not mere words or endearments. The emotional connection that they shared showed Irissa Sara's building affection towards her, the weight of that commitment. It was apparent to T'vara that the times that they had spent, the conversations that they had, the actions they were involved in. Each episode had undoubtedly added to that feeling within Sara. "You… love me." Irissa was learning what that term meant for a Human Being, what it meant to Sara. She was not one to merely attach the word or the emotion frivolously.
"I didn't know how to say it or when to say it." Sara admitted, a brief touch of embarrassment and nervousness. Irissa understood; the Maiden did not want to extend her heart only to find that she had chosen wrong. In many ways, they had much to learn about each other, their cultures, and their own personal feelings. "I… I am falling in love with you, Irissa. Not a childish fascination or some physical fling. I… want to go to the next step with you." Her cheeks went rosy, blushing as Sara felt nervous, feeling the risk of taking a chance with her.
The Professor knew of Sara's previous two relationships, both of them having not worked out due to circumstances that were not Sara's fault. The young woman had grown up on the Cit, and really had little interaction with her species, and what interaction she did have with those outside her family had not been very positive. As Irissa understood it, Sara had tried dating a Turian living on the Cit, but that relationship had failed spectacularly due to the male's family being racist towards the young Maiden's species. The other Turian Sara had dated had unfortunately been a fool who had used the relationship just to hurt a Human personally, dragging Sara through some rather emotional turmoil in a fairly abusive relationship where the Turian had faked an act to lure Sara in. That had affected Sara in more ways than one emotionally, and Irissa learned during their time on Therum why Sara seemed to be so cautious and nervous.
So when Sara said she was ready to take the next step, Irissa could feel that old nervousness, that old pain, coming back. It was a bold, brave step on her part.
"I would like that too, dear one." The Professor replied, making sure Sara could feel what she felt, so that the Human Maiden would know what she meant to the Asari. She slipped into Ryder's embrace, laying upon the Human as they Joined together, enjoying the act in more ways than just physical.
Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) stood in the Cargo Bay with the entirety of the crew of the SSV Normandy. She had excused the Watches to join in as she looked upon the full complement of the men and women that would serve her. She was going to address them fully, though they weren't in formation. Most of the enlisted crew where lounging about in the Cargo Bay, leaning on supply crates or sitting on the deck, only the command crew standing behind her at parade rest in their Dress Blue uniforms. This was going to be one of those times where talking was needed, but it wouldn't be one of those times where people were going to be listening with half-an-ear. What she had to say would affect them all.
"Alright, folks." Jannie spoke, standing in the center of the Cargo Bay, her green eyes sweeping around to look at her crew, these men and women. "I know for many of you," she began, "were scheduled to be a part of this ship for its shakedown runs, specifically trained for the many innovations that this Frigate has. But ever since the distress call from Eden Prime, every single one of you has performed above-and-beyond expectation.
"Today, I ask for more."
Jannie cast her eyes about, and saw that she had everyone's absolute attention, no one looking about, talking to their neighbor, or only pretending to listen. Good.
"Yesterday," the Lion continued, "I was in conference with Admiral Hackett." All the Humans knew who that was, Commandantof Arcturus Station, as well as one of the celebrated Bravest Generation, and Star of Terra-recipient. "Sailors? We are THE spear, Humanity's vengeance made real." Shepard saw Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams nodding, a brutal smile on her face. "We are going out into the black to hunt down Geth. We are going out into the black to hunt down Saren. Any allies and confederates that he might have are our enemies, and will know only the mercy of death." Urdnot Wrex chuckled somewhere in the crowd, the half-tonne Krogan obviously pleased. "Today, I will ask for more, and then I will ask for more than even that. We will be out there, as silent as the shadow, the proverbial knife in the dark, poised to strike at a moments' notice at our enemies' weaknesses. Wherever they are? We will be there to ensure that nothing goes according to plan."
There were a great many nodding heads in the Cargo Bay, and Jannie quickly noted who was… and who wasn't. Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly was likely keeping an eye on such things as well.
"My expectations," Humanity's First SPECTRE continued on, "are lofty; I expect the best out of ship and crew, from Captain to Seaman. Starting tomorrow? The Normandy will be berthed at the Arcturus Shipyard for a major overhaul, refit and retrofit, for a period of seven to ten days. Alliance shipbuilders are going to go over nook and cranny of this vessel, from nut to bolt, from code to screen, to make sure that everything is working true to form. They will crawl over this ship and make sure that you have the best." Jannie smiled. "Not only did I approve of a major overhaul for equipment… but accommodations as well." That had some looks traded amongst the crew. "The Galley is getting a proper kitchen, and we will be having fresh supplies and cooked meals." Jannie could tell that was going over well. "Crew Quarters are going from sleeper pods to crew bunks." There were a few whoops of enjoyment over that. "I've got a few other things that will be installed or added to, because I am going to be asking a lot out of you, and it's only fair that I return the favor. And who was the moron that suggested a wet bar?" A hand went up in the air with a smirk attached to it.
"Go figure, a fucking Marine." Ash replied out loud, several Sailor's chuckling at the Colonial Soldier's comment.
"It got approved, Ballsack." Shepard told everyone, making the Marine in question hoo-rah! in response, Private Nathaniel Balsach high-fiving Lance Corporal Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss beside him while Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder merely shook her head, smiling all the while. Hers wasn't the only one. "It's because I am going to ask everything out of you, folks, up to and including your lives." The smiles and good will evaporated as Jannie slowly spun, making sure she saw each and every member of her crew. "Lives have already been lost. Marines. Soldiers. Civilians. None of them knew that that day would be their last when the Geth came, intent on exterminating all who stood in the way of their objective." The Lion wasn't splitting hairs now. "Our people are in danger, and thanks to the Council of Law, it is now solely our problem save for a few brave volunteers." There were looks to the volunteers in question, but none of them were dark or malicious. Jannie made it understood that the non-Humans on her vessel were hers, and were exempted from doubt or incrimination. "Make no mistake, your lives are in danger because I'm going to put them in danger. I am going to fly right into the teeth of our enemies with the intent of kicking them in."
Many in the Cargo Bay were nodding in agreement or acceptance. Good.
"To fight the Geth and Saren," Jannie wrapped up, "we will be fielding the best equipment we've got, the best tech we can get our hands on, and the best tools we can craft.
"Now I just need the best hands in which to use them. Whom shall I send? WHO'S WITH ME?"
"Hear am I! Send me!" Came from the throat of every Human Being, echoing a response straight from the Holy Bible, loud enough to be heard outside the vessel.
"For the next seven to ten days," Jannie nodded, looking to her crew, "we will train. We will train harder than we ever had, because we will be locked in battles harder than we've ever been. Every impossible scenario will be covered and done until we can do it in our sleep. Drills will be run until we can rewrite the book. Emergency evac procedures and battle status alerts will be hammered. Everyone will go through damage control protocols until they can regurgitate it on demand. For the next seven to ten days, I will personally make sure that your job, your profession, is drilled so hard in your skulls that you will literally be considered the subject-matter experts. We will be getting more crew members later today so that three Watch rotations will be set, but for the next week, we will work upon ourselves in a way that I can only describe as anal-retentive, the same effort put into yourselves as it will be for this ship. This will literally be the fucking best vessel in the Alliance Navy, manned by the fucking best crew possible. Trust me, you're going to be glad I put in a wet bar." There was the necessary humor, and Jannie got the appropriate chuckles.
"Normandiers, I've already got a set schedule with your Departments based on training, simulations, classes, and fast-paced integration courses." Everyone was still looking, and still interested. Good. "Admiral Hackett has already cleared several locations for drills and simulations. Joker? Be prepared to do a few Kobayashi Maru-like missions based upon what little we can guess on Geth Fleet tactics." That had the Flight Lieutenant nodding. "Your Department leads will have your times and locations, with appropriate amongst of rest times and some personal time as well. Enjoy it while you can, settle affairs and update your files and wills. I am not fucking around on that one." That had the crew looking somber. Jannie wasn't going to promise they would make it; she could never expect to keep that promise, so she would do the next best thing by making them as great as possible to increase everyone's odds. "For the ground crew? You will be under my command, and you are going to be outfitted with weaponry, armor, and tech badass enough to take on the Geth. We are going to be hitting the ranges and the combat simulator arena to hone our teamwork and tactics, to come up with scenarios and strategies to work against a fluid enemy. As we speak, the range-weenies are actually inventing an even harder setting just for us."
"Bring it on, ma'am." Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard replied, a vengeful smile upon the young Marines' face. The other Marines responded with a hearty hoo-rah. Kids… they were just fucking kids, but they were all she had. So she was going to make sure they were the epitome of Marine lethality.
"Alright, folks. That's what I got for you." Shepard smiled at her crew. "Enjoy the rest of the evening at Liberty, and be prepared to pay it back over the next several days."
Petty Officer Sara Ryder was walking the Lower Hub of Arcturus Station, feeling a little homesick at the sight and feel of being on a station once more. Though it wasn't the Cit by a long shot, there was something about being on a station that felt like home to her, something that ships didn't quite catch. Beside her was Corporal Scott Michael Ryder, her twin brother having to return to the SSV Flavius the next day. Two years had been way too long, and two days hardly enough. Still, Sara was going to spend as much time as she could with her 'little' brother, soaking up as much as she could. She honestly didn't know when she would get another chance. Or… if.
"Got a message from Dad last night." Sara told Scott, making the Marine 'harrumph' in response. Dad and Scott hadn't really been on speaking terms ever since Scott thought Dad was seeing someone else so soon after Mom passed away. Sara wasn't exactly sure if Dad was in fact 'seeing' the woman-in-question, who also happened to be his subordinate, Cora Lynn Harper. They seemed close, so she guessed there was the possibility. But she knew for a fact that Dad hadn't met her until after Mom passed away, so that wasn't in question. Scott had always sought for his father's approval, while Sara had been so much like their mother, but Mom's sickness had change things for their family. It wasn't fair to say that Dad wasn't there. He was away often though, trying to find a way and a means to save his wife's life, to find some possible treatment for her Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy, what most everyone called 'the Eezo Cancer'. There was no known cure, but Alec Clancy Ryder had never been one to accept an easy answer over the truth. He had used every resource, every contact, every means to find any possible solution to Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder's condition. He had been gone on-and-off again for five years on a quest to save his wife, and for that, Sara would forgive him of just about anything.
Scott… was another matter.
"What did he say?"
"Not happy about what happened on Therum, but he's glad that I am alive and well, and grateful that Auntie was able to come to my rescue." Evidently, Jannie had given Dad a more detailed message than Sara had, who had… edited the events to something a little more prosaic. She loved her Dad, but Alec Ryder was bull-headed and stubborn to a fault. He didn't need to be ripping through half the galaxy on a misconceived notion that his little girl needed him to hold her hand. She would have to rectify that with a properly detailed message and the reassurance that she wasn't twelve anymore. "Guess he's in Sol, working on… whatever project or whatnot he's on."
"Humph." Scott snorted as a response, obviously trying not to sour the mood with his opinion while acknowledging that Sara thought differently but not wishing to get into it. "So… the Normandy?"
"Yeah." Sara had missed out on the minor Human media frenzy about the SSV Normandy's miracle rescue of Constant, Eden Prime, not to mention the introduction of Humanity's First SPECTRE. It was still surreal to her in a way; it was Auntie! All her life, she had always looked up to her Aunt Jannie, and to think that paragon of awesomeness she looked up to when she was a little girl was now a Council Agent was… it was amazing! But with the Geth on the loose, Sara knew what the Lion would do. It was one of the reasons why Sara agreed to join the Normandy and its dangerous mission. Jannie needed to stand strong for Humanity. Jannie needed someone who would watch her back while she did so, no matter what. Her crew needed it, too. "I wish you could come with us, Scottie. It'd be pretty awesome if we worked together." Unfortunately, the Systems Alliance Military had adopted an ancient rule about family members working in the same unit or vessel. Sara and Jannie was one thing; they weren't physically related. But Scott was her twin brother. No matter who asked or tried, it would never be approved.
"I'll be honest, Sara, you deserve it more than me." Her brother replied as they walked along the Lower Hub, passing by a few civilian-oriented stores, mostly catering to pulling Credits from young service members looking for the latest in electronics, entertainment, or body art. "I'm not saying I don't want the chance, but I think… I think you've done better than me these past two years, Minute Rice. You always were the better long-term planner."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Silver Medal." Scott stuck his tongue out at the affectionate nickname, making Sara smile at the face he made. "You haven't slouched, making your Corporal so quickly, hitting up those college courses and correspondence courses. I don't doubt you'll be seeing your Sergeant here soon, and I know what that means." Sara knew that her brother was hoping to go Green-to-Gold, to becoming a Marine Commissioned Officer. One had to be at least an E-5 to be considered. Everything that she said would help him obtain that goal.
"That's my point right there, Sara; you helped me there." Scott looked to her with a smile. "You're the one who suggested to me to do just that. You're the one who kept up with me, to help me stay on track. When I was losing my focus, you were always there. While I don't like the thought of you being in danger, I know that you aren't some gun-ho Private assured that bullets will somehow miss him. You've trained yourself to be better and better, and you're more than smart enough for this. Of the two of us, you are the better option, Minute Rice."
"Well, I was born first, after all." Sara added with a wink, making her brother groan as she folded her arms across her chest, smirking at her taller, one-minute younger brother. "There is something I'd like to talk to you about though, Scottie. Something personal."
"Uh oh." Her brother's smirk was growing by the millisecond. "There's a boy, isn't there?"
"Ugh! You're as bad as Auntie!" Sara replied, exasperated, throwing up her hands in defeat. "And no, it isn't a boy. It's… a woman."
"Okay. Wow. That's… a first." Scott mulled it over for a moment. "Um, don't mind me asking, but… you did talk an awful lot about an Asari Professor in your messages."
"Yes, it's her." Sara answered her brother's unanswered question. "We've been together since, well, more-or-less since I arrived on Therum. When the Geth came, she elected to stay behind instead of evacuating with the rest of the members of the Serrice and Oxford Team. Yes, there weren't exactly enough seats for everyone, but she stood by our side." She saw that her brother got the gist of it.
"That's pretty significant, Sara." Scott slowly nodded as they continued to walk down the Lower Hub, passing by a small park. "One to ten scale of seriousness?"
"We had our first Joining this morning." Sara replied quietly, her words meant only for him, and not to the many Humans around them going to and fro upon their business. Scott grew up on the Cit, so he knew a bit more than the common Human Being on such things as to what a Joining entailed, though he hadn't learned as much Asari culture as Sara had, who had attended the Presidium Academy of Education where two-thirds of the Instructors were Asari. Scott had a likely idea on how serious that meant.
"Wow. Okay. You like each other then." Scott snorted a little, but smiled none the less. "If you're happy, Sara? Then I'm happy. Like to meet her at the least. I think that's fair."
"I can set that up. I guess Auntie already had 'the talk' with her." Sara rolled her eyes at that, but she knew that Jannie meant well. "Better her than Dad."
"Yeah. Might want to leave that picture out on the Christmas Card list."
"…so the Elcor is trying to give birth, in all places, their Embassy." Petty Officer Sara Ryder explained as Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams listened to the story with some amusement. "Chief Shayla tells me since I wanted to get my hands dirty, I would be doing the catching." That had the Colonial Soldier chuckling, trying to imagine an even younger Sara Ryder playing midwife. "The calf was stuck, trying to come out at a bad angle, and our Barber-Surgeon, Alixa Trevalis, tells me that Elcor skin is too dense for the instruments that we have, and we can't do an emergency birth canal; their idea of a C-Section. So…
"I got to physically assist." The Corpsman winced at the memory.
"As in…?" Ash reached a hand out suggestively, as if grabbing something.
"Oh yeah. Boldly went where no man had gone before." It was too much as Williams began to laugh out loud, trying to picture the young woman reaching into an Elcor through the Cows'… nope, don't picture it, don't imagine it, don't even pretend to try! Ash warned herself as she winced as well, trying to think of anything else other than a young woman having to physically assist an Elcor giving birth to a twenty-five kilogram Calf by reaching in. It was nauseating and funny at the same time as Ash pretended to gag. "So… dived in, found the baby, corrected the angle, and got hit with a bowling ball-sized mewling Elcor boy as it shot out and hit me in the chest about a minute later. I was absolutely slathered in birth fluid."
"Oh jeez, makes me glad I went Infantry." The Staff Sergeant replied with a chuckle as the two of them stood in front of the SSV Normandy's deployment ramp, the Frigate scheduled to leave for the Arcturus Shipyard the next day for its major overhaul. As Ash understood it, the Skipper was paying a pretty Credit to make a top-of-the-line warship into something even more fantastical, pulling out all the stops to ensure the greatest amount of success and survivability in terms of mission and crew. Ash was already under the heady impression that Captain Jane Shepard would very likely be the best Commanding Officer she'd ever work with. Then she went and one-up'ed herself. "Bet you've got a ton of stories being in the CitEMS. Good ones, bad ones, gross ones."
"Oh God, don't remind me." Sara smiled as she looked out into the Lower Hub, seeing the amount personnel drop as the work day ended. The Captain had told them that the new crew members would be arriving at COB, and both the Staff Sergeant and the Petty Officer had elected to stand final Watch and accept the new crew members to give others a chance to enjoy an early evening. As Ash understood it, Sara had plans later on now that her twin brother had shipped back to his post at some Relay, a Marine on guard duty. No doubt that had been a tearful goodbye, but she understood; she had three younger sisters of her own living on Terra Nova that got to see their Big Sis only twice a year. Family mattered to Sara in all the right ways. "Next time? I'll tell you about the one with the Hanar, the Asari Maiden, and the… appliance malfunction."
"That isn't a bar joke?"
"I wish." Sara snorted, folding her arms across her chest, her rather impressive muscular biceps accentuated by the act as the shorter woman spied something. "Got two coming up. I'm going to say cousins unless someone in BuPers fucked up big time." Ash saw what the Corpsman had seen, two look-alike women in Alliance Blues coming towards the Normandy with SeaBags over their shoulders. Williams couldn't immediately spot their rank, but by their age, she'd guess Seaman-types; Lower Enlisted. More kids sent to war, Goddamn it.
"Ma'am!" Both women dropped their bags and stood at attention, saluting the obvious Sailor as Ash watched on in a relaxed version of parade rest. "Able Seaman Dravens and Dravens, reporting as ordered!" That was the left one, and Williams spotted the fact that both women were not only named 'Dravens', but had the same rank as well. Ash was still iffy on the confusing ranks and names, but she was pretty sure Able Seaman meant E-3. Both Seamen dropped their salutes when the Petty Officer gave them one of her own.
"Your orders." Ryder said simply, and it was the right one that gave the Corpsman both sets of datapads as Ash studied the women themselves. Jeez, nineteen if they were over a day. The family resemblance between the two was strong as hell, to boot; they could pass off as fraternal twins, easily. Even identical with a little bit of make-up. "Seaman Dravens, Rosamund, LT4. Seaman Dravens, Tabitha, LS4. Tour of duty, SSV Normandy." Sara read out loud as the Sailors stood there, still at attention. "Cousins?"
"Aye aye, Chief!" Both responded at the same time, making Ash crack a smile. "Permission to come aboard?" That was the right one. Williams wasn't sure which one was which.
"Permission granted, Seamen." Sara saluted, both Sailors returning the salute. "Report to the Galley for berthing assignments and your next orders from Lieutenant Alenko. That will be all."
"Aye aye, Chief!" Both of the women hoisted up their SeaBags and headed up the deployment ramp, and the Staff Sergeant watched as the both of them boarded the Normandy-Class Frigate. When they were out of sight, Ash found that she was a host of blue eyes looking at her, Sara studying her.
"What?"
"You were checking them out." The Corpsman smiled, a small smile on her lips. "Don't deny it."
"Well…" The Soldier coughed uncomfortably, having been caught. "Someone's got to save them from the jaws of manliness… and your Marines." That had the Angel snort, a knowing grin on her face.
"Spent several weeks the only women on a Marine deployment. You probably don't want to know the amount of flirting and looks I got." Williams winced at that. She had never been the only female in a unit, which had been nice to split up some of that attention. She didn't advertise her own orientation, though it was generally figured out after a few weeks or months whenever she went to a new post, hit up a bar, or tried talking to another woman with the intent to flirt and ask out on a date. Still, guys thought lesbians were hot, and Ash wasn't ashamed to admit that she liked some of the attention.
"Give any a taste?"
"Fuck no. I'm not stupid." Sara replied readily enough that Ash believed her. "Trying that in such an enclosed place just reeks of bad ideas and regrets. Besides," the Corpsman shrugged and smiled, "I'm in a committed relationship. I'm not ruining that on a night of stupid fun."
"Smart girl." Williams had the sense that Doc was likely taken. Pity, she was both cute and spunky. Whoever he was? He was one lucky guy. Ash didn't doubt Ryder was probably a little hellcat in the sheets. Athletic body like that? She probably could drain a man dry and leave him dead with a smile on his face. "Think we got another one coming up. Officer-type."
"You… have got… to be shitting me." Ryder spat out as she saw who was approaching the Normandy. "Of all the fucking Humans in the Goddamn galaxy…" The Soldier looked to the Corpsman, a little confused as she looked back to the man in question. Dressed in Alliance Dress Blues, the normal wear for an Officer, she saw that the man was tall, muscled, ruggedly handsome, and looked like he could be a model for a magazine or an underwear advertisement. She spied the nametape, 'Vanderloo', and the rank, a Full-Flank Commander.
"Know him?" Ash asked as the man approached the gangplank, still far enough away not to hear them.
"Un-fucking-fortunately." The hostility and acidity in Sara's tone was surprising. Williams couldn't imagine the Corpsman had it in her. Who ever this Commander was had certainly earned her ire. "Might want to stick away from the splash damage, Army. This will get ugly." Sara folded her muscular arms across her chest in a more aggressive way as she leaned back on one leg and lifted her chin up just slightly. Oh damn, Williams thought to herself, seeing the aggressive stance. She wasn't about to back away, but she had to admit she was curious as to why Doc looked ready to rip a motherfucker in half. The man approached closer as he carried his SeaBag in one hand, coming up towards the obvious Watch, looking at Sara in her Navy-colored Alliance Blues, heading towards the Petty Officer. Whoever he was? He didn't seem to recognize her… or the hostility.
"Petty Officer." The man approached, his voice hinted with a Dutch accent, well-chiseled features open and honest, and Ash had to admit that he was a handsome one. Former lover? No… he would have recognized Sara. Plus, the man seemed to be in his late twenties, possibly very early thirties. Williams ventured to guess that they hadn't even served together before. So how did Sara know him when he didn't recognize her? "Commander Vanderloo to report to the Normandy as ships' Executive Officer." The man pulled a datapad out to hand over, and Ash honestly wasn't too surprised to see that the Corpsman didn't take it. The Commander was though, frowning.
"Hello, Mark. Not happy to see you, sir."
The man looked at the Petty Officer for a second, and then did a double-take.
"Sara?" The man sounded genuinely surprised, his eyes wide as he looked at her, looking her over in amazement. "Is that you, Sara Ryder?"
"Yeeeep." She popped the 'p' at the end, and Ash felt like she was watching a Quidditch match, going back and forth. "Been a few years. Grew up. Joined the Navy." The acidity had left her voice, and Williams noted that this Field-Grade Officer (or whatever the Navy equivalent was) wasn't busting her chops for her obvious disrespectful tone. Whatever was going on, the man likely knew that he was on the losing end. It was the only thing that made sense. "How 'bout you, Mark? Use any other women in the name of personal gratification? Any other wives you've walked all over?" Williams was a little shocked at Ryder's words. What she was implying… naw, couldn't be. Could it?
"Still as spunky as ever, I see." Commander Vanderloo sighed, obviously not going to get into it. "Is she in?"
"Ready Room." Sara just jerked her head in the general direction. "I suggest full armor and an extra cup. It might save your balls." The Officer stood stiffer at that one as he merely nodded and began to walk by. "Oh, Mark?" The man stopped and turned for a moment to look at Sara. "Don't bother calling for Doc, either." Ash was doing her best not to let her jaw drop or to chuckle out loud as she watched the Naval Officer officially run away at a full professional walk, heading deeper into the Normandy. Damn!
"Doc, all I got to say is never let me piss you off." Williams told the Petty Officer, who was still glaring daggers towards the retreating Commander as he entered the Cargo Bay to head towards the elevator. "So… spill. Who was that guy?"
"The most vile, repulsive, and despised creature in the known galaxy, agreed upon by every gender and species." Sara said, looking to Ash. "A being so terrible? Only one letter is needed to describe its bane. X."
"That's the Skippers' ex-husband?" The Staff Sergeant asked, shocked. She had no idea that Captain Shepard was even married before! She certainly hadn't heard of the Lion of Elysium referred to as Vanderloo. "Waitaminute! You're telling me that that guy who just walked onto the Lions' ship just so happens to be her ex-husband?"
"Fate has its ironies, Staff Sergeant." The Corpsman replied, and then her face broke into a smile. "Now that she's a SPECTRE, she can legally kill her ex-husband and get away with it; every woman's dream."
Ashley just stared at Sara… and busted out laughing.
There was about thirty-seven thousand places Commander Mark Vanderloo would have rather been than standing in the middle of the CIC of the SSV Normandy. Like Venus. Or perhaps some far-flung doom-and-gloom colony out in some backspace end of nowhere where the only possible way to get there was generation drive. Standing upon the Bridge of his ex-wife's vessel?
Oh yeah. God was having a good old laugh with the Devil at his expense, for sure.
Mark stood at attention, his right hand still touching his brow as he saluted Captain Jane Catherine Shepard; the Lion of Elysium, graduate of the toughest combative training program known to Mankind, Commanding Officer to the most advanced warship in the Alliance Navy, and Humanity's First SPECTRE. He remember getting his orders just the day prior, seeing which ship his next Tour of Duty would be, and who it would be with. The only question he really had was what fucking idiot had thought this a good idea? He couldn't request a change of orders without her recommendation, which probably shouldn't be too hard. But there was a reason the Commander had been ordered to the Normandy, and it wasn't because of irony.
"At ease." Jane said coolly, standing at parade rest as she did so, not returning the salute, though it wasn't necessarily required. Aboard her ship, Shepard was of the highest authority, and her word was law. He had heard that she had just gotten her O-5 half-a-year prior, and even slated for an Unrestricted Line Officer position as a Frigate's XO. Now she was a Captain, a SPECTRE, and his boss.
If there were indeed nine circles of Hell, he had just discovered the tenth.
"My orders, ma'am." Mark did his best to be as professional as possible about this very unlikely scenario, handing over his datapad to be inspected. The redhead merely took it, her face as cool and as even as ever as she scanned its contents. What she read had her frowned.
"This is not what I had in mind when I asked for a full complement of crew members for a Frigate." The N7 muttered to herself, swiping down the orders, scanning through them. "I already have an XO, and a good one at that." She chewed her bottom lip a little, and Mark knew what that meant; internal conflict. No doubt that his ex-wife would love to have him absolutely anywhere else but her vessel, but there was a reason for that conflict. No doubt that her XO was indeed a good one, as Jane never settled for anything less than dedicated men and women, but there was a reason for that conflict.
Commander Mark Vanderloo was considered one of the best Unrestricted Line Officers in the service, having been lauded since he graduated Valedictorian from the Systems Alliance Military Academy in 2176. Then he had proved himself time and again during the Skyllian Blitz as the Commanding Officer of the Corvette-Class SSV Expedition, running hit-and-run tactics against pirate forces and (magically) non-Hegemony vessels. When it came to acting alone in the black and facing greater odds but coming out on top? There was none better than him. Mark knew that, and Jane knew that. But having the two of them on the same ship? There in lied the conflict going on in Jane's mind.
It was a doozy, to be sure.
"Ensign Moon? You have the Bridge." The redhead told the other person upon the Bridge, a tiny woman of Oriental descent who saluted in acknowledgment. "I'll be in my Ready Room." Shepard tilted her head towards her Ready Room, and Mark dutifully followed. At least whatever she was going to say, she kept off the Bridge. Not that he doubted her professionalism, but the dissolution of their marriage had been… messy. They entered into the Ready Room, and Mark's eyes went wide at the decorations and furniture, almost as if he had stepped into a time portal into the past back when Navy ships were made of wood and its men out of iron. He saw Captain David Edward Anderson's hand in it, the man being a Naval historian in his own right. Jane moved to the antique desk, stepping around it to sit in her own personal chair as she casually gestured towards the guest chair. The Commander took to the seat quietly, wondering what was to transpire, a little surprised to see Jane pull out from her desk a bottle of Elysium Gold Whiskey and two glasses, pouring a healthy amount into each.
"In Vino, Veritas?" Mark asked as he found himself taking his glass as Shepard put away the bottle.
"Unless there's a Latin word for whiskey, yes." The N7 snorted with a small smile, one that didn't reach her green eyes at all. "Not going to lie, Mark. This?" She pointed right at him. "Pure fucking bullshit. Straight up-and-down." He wasn't quite sure if she meant the situation of him getting orders for her ship and mission, or the complete and utter disaster that was their marriage. Either could have applied appropriately. "Here I was hoping I'd never really see you again except for the rare passing-by or mutually-attended function."
"Hmm." Vanderloo really didn't have anything to add or detract from that. Actually, he was a little surprise that her opinion was that congenial. He knew some divorced couples that couldn't even stand been within a couple hundred meters of each other. There were some where that was actually legally applied! The fact that they could be in the same room for a few minutes and it not degenerate into a shouting match, screaming match, shoving match, or boxing match was certainly a start. "So what is it that you want, Jane?"
"Not gonna lie, Mark; we're fucked." The redhead took a healthy swallow of her whiskey. "Mankind is about to get its ass handed back on a Geth-served platter. Too many people are scared, screaming for the Fleets to stay close to home, and too many politicians are leading that charge. Bunkering down isn't going to stop the threat, and the Geth aren't an organic threat. They're not going to tire, get bored, have a political season change on them, or hold peace talks. Our five active Fleets are going to protect our major routes with the Battle Groups, Flotillas, and Patrols trying to cover the gaps. We're too big, we own too much." The Captain snorted as she looked… nostalgic for a moment. "Someone asked me if Humanity was ready for this. Now I know the answer, and it isn't to my liking."
"With the attacks on Eden Prime and Therum together, I'm sure the Admiralty Board will convince Parliament that an active stance will be in everyone's best interest." Mark replied, taking a sip of the whiskey. It was actually good whiskey.
"Too little, too late." Shepard replied. "And how many more attacks will it take to convince a majority of Parliament to vote that way? How many more lives will be lost? Y'know… if we had been Turians?" There was a lop-sided smile to that, no joy in it whatsoever. "The first word of 'Geth' would have had one-half of the Fleet mobilizing for a counter-invasion, piercing the Perseus Veil and glassing Rannoch in retaliation, while the other half obliterated every ship outside of the Veil in retribution."
"Makes one wonder, doesn't it?" Jane never said it out loud, but she hated Turians. Turians had killed her father when she had been just a little girl, and she had grown up only with stories of him. She was far from the only one amongst Mankind to feel that way for that reason or one similar. He remembered when little Sara Ryder had shyly admitted to actually dating a Turian to her Auntie when she was sixteen, and how Jane had practically bitten her tongue off trying to be supportive.
"Mark," Jane polished off the rest of her whiskey, and Mark frowned at the sight; that didn't bode what he was expecting. "I need you on this ship. Personal differences aside, we're going to lead the charge against the Geth and that fucking Turian. It's going to be us and nobody else, not for a while, at least. The Normandy needs the best," the redhead took a breath and let out an emphatic sigh, "and you are one of the best Naval commanders we've got. I would be a fucking idiot not to recognize that."
"Your current XO?"
"He's good, he really is. But you outstrip him by far." Shepard replied. "Hell, I've got practically everyone working one-or-two positions ahead of where they're suppose to be, so I guess you might be the first in the line of putting men where they are needed and slipping the original Normandiers back into their proper duties. Should have expected that, but I've been hit-the-ground-running since Eden Prime, and really haven't had much of a chance to stop and look that much at the big picture expect for when it comes to the Geth. And honestly? You know I don't have the Command-Time or the Department-Time to really lead a ship properly, not even a Frigate. Been in the Teams too long, not enough Deck time."
"I wouldn't sell yourself short, Jane. And a Commanding Officer is only as good as their crew, after all." Mark replied, polishing off his own whiskey, setting it down on a coaster upon the ancient desk. "Here I'd figure you'd be sending an immediate change-of-orders to the Board. Or me into an airlock."
"Tempting, but no." Jane's wolfish smile was a little less frigid than before. "My crew needs someone who can do the things you do, think the way they think. I just gave them a big ol' speech about being the best and getting the best, and I'm not about to shoot myself in the foot and go back on my word. I'd rather be fucking awkward with you around than the other way around." That had him nod, expecting no less out of either himself or Jane. No one wanted to bury men, especially out of pettiness. "It might be trying to keep it professional, but this crew deserves it, and this mission deserves it. We're going to be on the forefront and likely the only true response in the name of Humanity. It'd be a shame to fuck it up over squabbling drama."
"Agreed, and I can do that." He had learned since their failed marriage. Had grown up, had matured. It wasn't like they had gotten married for all the wrong reasons, though upon reflection he had been less than ready to make that full commitment but hadn't seen it. Jane… Jane really had loved him, but he had messed that up. In more ways than one. She was right on this though; this mission needed them to be at their best, because anything less would get them and their people killed. And no one wanted that guilt on their conscious. "I can already imagine the scuttlebutt on this one. The Navy's true weapon of mass destruction; the power of rumor." That had Jane laugh, and it felt good to see her laugh.
"You did run into Sara below deck, right?" There was a twinkle to her green eyes, and her smile was a little malicious.
"Yes I did." Honestly, he had been shocked to see her. "Did she steal some Marines' arms and attach them to her shoulders? Jesus Christ." His memories of Sara Ryder were of a young teenaged girl, all smiles and questions, never standing still and never slowing down. What he had seen at the deployment ramp was as if someone had attached her twenty-year old head onto the body of a Marine and pumped it full of vindictiveness. Well, the second part he got. "I think her exact word were 'bring a cup and don't call for Doc'."
"She's our Corpsman, Mark. My ground team Doc." Whatever rubbing in Jane was doing before was gone now, and he saw that this concerned her. "She's the Goddamn best at what she does, Mark. Trained xenomedic at the Cit, one of the best schools in the galaxy, a Fleet Marine Corpsman… and I'm going to be sending her on a fucking SPECTRE mission that could very well get her killed." Damn, Mark thought to himself, knowing just how much Sara meant to Jane. She was right, though, Sara being the best. But the mission was that important, that desperate. Mankind was at stake, and the redhead was sending the woman she saw as her sister into the fray because the stakes were that high. "I'm revamping this state-of-the-art ship with everything we can possibly conceive to eek out that extra percentage, to get that little extra, just on hope at success and bring my crew home." There was that passion, what made Jane the Lion. She would bend over backwards for her personal motto; mission first, crew always. "We just buried an eighteen-year old Marine, one of Sara's, and on Eden Prime I lost a Corporal whose dog tags I still have because his parents were killed, too."
"Fuck." Yeah, he could easily tell why Jane was so adamant on this. For the woman who lost a father she couldn't remember, Jane Shepard had always pushed her Team to being better so they could go home to their families. She had lost N brothers and sisters to missions, but no one would ever dare suggest it had been due to inadequacy or improper planning. Jane pushed herself twice as hard to be twice as good because that's what she thought a leader should be; the absolute paragon of authority and hard work. In the end, it was because she cared.
"Then we make sure we keep that promise; have the best, be the best." Mark had no issues keeping that promise. "What's our budget like?"
"We've got a Battle Group's budget." The redhead answered with a snort, and that had him shocked. Well, Jane was a SPECTRE now, but even that was a good deal more than what he would expect. The budget to run a Cruiser or a Carrier would have been more than sufficient. A full Battle Group? Someone intended to have the Lion of Elysium as absolutely prepared as possible, to have the absolute best equipment, arms, armor, and tech that money could possibly buy. "We start drilling tomorrow, and I want you," her green eyes were locked in on his own, "to be an absolute demon. I want lofty expectations and a very high bar, and I don't want you to be satisfied with anything less. Hound them until you're utterly satisfied that there is no one better than they."
And just like that, he was her Executive Officer.
"How long do we have?"
"A week, no more than ten days." The Normandy's Captain told him in no uncertain tones. "I've got simulators and caterers to maximize on training time, and even got berths set up so they can get their rest without having to pay for it themselves. They will have a couple hours of Liberty each night before their rest time so no one's burning out, but make no mistake; I want greatness."
"Then I'll make it happen." Commander Mark Vanderloo promised.
He wasn't going to let her down. Not this time, not on this.
Author's Notes: I know the portion with Sara and Irissa was a little fluffy, but I was exploring their relationship in a little more detail. Trust me, it will matter throughout the story. And not for fluff.
No embrace eternity thing. Seriously, you need an 'abracadabra' word to activate mental sex?
Isaiah 6:8 - Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And Who will go forth for us?" And I said, "Here am I! Send me!"
The 'ancient' rule in which family cannot be in the same unit or vessel is known as the 'Sullivan Policy', in which five brothers serving on the USS Juneau were killed almost with almost all hands due to a submarine's torpedo in WWII. 634 souls… only 10 survived the two weeks on the water. There's a reason we call them 'the Greatest Generation'.
The Dravens - Some of the SR-1's casualties during the Collector attack. I don't remember if the first names were on the dogtags on the Alchera mission, but they most certainly are on the Memorial Wall in ME3 along with all the other casualties. Considering I just explained the Sullivan Policy about siblings, I made them cousins.
Mark Vanderloo - This isn't really an OC. Mark Vanderloo is, in fact, ManShep's face model. Mark Vanderloo is a Dutch model, and as a bit of a joke on myself when I did the Hale/Meer Chronicles and used voice actors to populate that flip-the-script fanfic, I made the Lion an ex-husband based upon her male counterpart's looks. Not many fanfic's have Shepard with an ex, because… who would have the balls to divorce Shepard and live to tell the tale? Or worse… ruin the marriage in the first place?
Quidditch? - Yes, the Harry Potter game JKK Rowlings invented. I'm going to show it off in a little as a Mass Effect-styled game involving speederbikes, drones, and a variety of rules similar, because despite I thought the Harry Potter series okay-ish (gee, really? 10 year old kid saves the day?), the concept of Quidditch was really innovating if a little confusing when one adds a killgame scenario with the Snitch. Expect to see it on the Cit.
I've had a few people ask me who I'm shipping Shepard with. This is the SSV Normandy, not the Love Boat. Honestly… you're just going to have to wait and see.