2

Interview with Commander Shepard

"You bonded with the crew?"

"Fairly quickly, if I remember right. It's funny..."

"What is?"

"For the longest time, I've felt that the Normandy is my home. It seems like a lifetime ago that the entire place seemed new and unusual."

"Natural, considering all you've been through."

"I guess. But anyway, I fit in pretty quickly. I was lucky that the Normandy was staffed by a good, kind crew. It took a while to know Joker better, but he's always been a little uneasy with people to begin with."

"Tell us about your first experiences on the ship."


SSV Normandy, 2183

Two weeks passed. Shepard slowly found himself settling in, learning his way around the ship, and getting to know his fellow crewmates. Chakwas and Adams were always kind, never turning away from friendly conversation. In addition to the medic and the engineer, there was Private Fredricks and Corporal Emerson, both part of the marine detail, Corporal Waaberi of the engineering department, and others.

Shepard had also had a run-in with the pilot, Moreau, on his third day of service. Moreau, who was rarely found away from the cockpit, was gloomy, bad-tempered, and grimly sarcastic. That said, Shepard took an instant liking to the man. Unlike many of the other crewmembers, Moreau didn't care about Shepard's past. He actually had never heard of Shepard before the Normandy post.

"So what," Moreau said during their first conversation together, "you were some kind of big military hero?"

Shepard narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Sounds like you're a little sensitive about it."

Shepard shook his head. "People died. Violently."

"Right," Moreau muttered, pulling his cap further down over his eyes. "We've all got one like that, don't we?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

Moreau tapped a few commands into the holographic controls, lapsing into uncomfortable silence. Shepard folded his arms and said, "So what's your story?"

"Don't have one worth telling," Moreau muttered, keeping his eyes fixed forward.

"Is that so?" Shepard said, unconvinced.

"Yeah. That's so."

"You do realize I could just order you to tell me?"

"I'd like to see you try."

Shepard was bluffing, it was true, but he still fixed Moreau with a dark, commanding gaze. The pilot eventually sighed in exasperation. "Fine. I guess you've already read my personnel report, so none of its a surprise. Don't know why you want to get all cozy with the crew, though."

"Just answer the damn question."

"I've got Vrolik syndrome," the man snapped. "Brittle bone disease?'

Shepard folded his arms. "Brittle bones? And you decided to join the navy?"

"I grew up on Arcturus Station," Moreau said. "Spent my entire childhood around ships. So yeah, as soon as I was old enough, I enlisted to join the navy."

Shepard slowly narrowed his eyes. "I think there's more to that story."

Moreau rolled his eyes. "Okay, so maybe there was a court order in there somewhere. Just hypothetically, there may have been some illegal back-street racing on Arcturus that got busted. And maybe one of the pilots was given a choice between jail and military service."

"Jail would be safer," Shepard pointed out.

"Screw you," Moreau snapped. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and added, "Sir. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm sitting in the pilot's chair of the most advanced starship in the entire god-damn galaxy. I didn't do that by being a pussy because of my condition."

"That's a good point," Shepard said.

"I thought you'd see it my way," Moreau said, adjusting himself in his seat. "Now I appreciate the chat, Commander, but I've got work to do."

"That's just a polite way of saying piss off."

"Pretty much," Moreau said with a shrug.

Shepard turned away and said, "I should go anyway. We'll talk some other time, Jeff."

Moreau grimaced. "Uh, yeah. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that."

Shepard paused. "Call you what?"

"Jeff. It sounds so bland."

"Your name sounds bland?" Shepard said, raising an eyebrow. "What do you prefer?"

"The crew calls me Joker."

Shepard thought over that for a few moments, then said, "How is that more fitting?"

Joker shrugged. "Matches my charming and hilarious personality, I guess."

Shepard chuckled. "All right. I'll talk to you later, Joker."

"See ya, Commander."

Shepard also met Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, the team leader of the Normandy's marine attachment and part-time ship tinkerer. The man was friendly enough, but didn't seem up for conversation often. Shepard didn't think he'd ever seen the man not working on something or another; replacing faulty wiring here, tweaking the gravitational dampeners there. Shepard got the impression that the man was loyal but reserved and introverted – an odd quality for a marine.

Finally, there was the excitable and impressionable Corporal Jenkins, the newest marine recruit aboard. Shepard didn't particularly care for the kid, as he found him almost annoyingly energetic, but he was always kind. However, about a week into his service aboard the Normandy and after making a stop in the Danarian system for refueling, Jenkins got a little too curious for Shepard's taste.

It was during off-duty hours. Shepard was on the crew deck, having dinner with Alenko, Joker, and Jenkins. They had engaged in idle talk, swapping theories on where the Normandy was going and what their mission was. Somehow, the topic fell on their personal histories. Jenkins was more than happy to share his life story: he had been born on the colony of Eden Prime and had enlisted to join the navy as soon as he was old enough. During his childhood, he'd grown bored of the peaceful, idyllic landscape of his home and longed for a more adventurous lifestyle.

Joker and Kaidan had both dodged the question, stating that they weren't up for sharing. That left only one person left open for the young marine: Shepard.

"So what's your story, sir?" Jenkins asked excitedly.

Shepard sighed, spearing a piece of textureless simulation meat with his fork. "I don't have one, Corporal."

Jenkins shook his head. "That's not true, sir. Everyone has a story. Mine was boring but I still had one."

"I'm just a marine," Shepard replied, frowning. "Nothing much to tell."

"That's not what I heard," Kaidan muttered.

"What's that, Lieutenant?" Shepard said darkly.

Joker raised a single eyebrow, watching the proceedings with interest while Kaidan blinked as if regretting speaking at all. Shepard stared him down, narrowing his eyes in challenge. "You obviously have something to say, Staff Lieutenant. So spit it out."

Kaidan poked at his meal, avoiding Shepard's gaze. "It's just... well, there are some rumors going around the ship about you, Commander. I figured you were the best person to quell the gossip."

"What kinds of rumors?" Shepard asked, uncomfortably aware that it was exactly the question Jenkins had been waiting for him to ask.

"Was it true you were deployed on Akuze?" the Corporal asked, all but bouncing up and down in his seat with excitement. "That you were the only survivor?"

Kaidan nudged Jenkins in the arm, while Joker just sat back and watched the conversation with silent curiosity.

Shepard shook his head. "I'm here to command this ship, not mess around with vague shipboard gossip."

"I think part of your duties regard to the mental well being of the crew members," Joker finally chipped in. "I think quelling these rumors would do wonders."

Shepard scowled at the pilot. "Oh, so now you're starting in on me too?"

Joker shrugged."I've got nothing better to do. Fess up."

Shepard shook his head. "I should just order you all to mind your own business."

"Commander," Jenkins pleaded, "you're a hero to the Alliance. Don't you want people to know why?"

Shepard sighed, set aside his plastoid eating utensils, and rubbed his eyes wearily. The memories that were being unwillingly tugged to the surface were unpleasant to say the least. He'd done his best to leave Akuze behind, but his past seemed all too eager to catch up with him again.

"Yes," he finally said. "I was on Akuze. Part of a marine detachment studying seismic activity in the area. It was a routine mission, one of the first I was assigned to after joining the Alliance."

Jenkins clapped his hands and pointed at Alenko. "Ha!" he cried. "I knew it! I told you!"

Kaidan shot him a glare and motioned for him to shut up and the young marine quickly fell silent. All three crewmates looked to Shepard to elaborate. Shepard stared down at the unappetizing meal before him, then pushed the tray away.

"We arrived during the planet's night cycle," he said with a frown. He could remember it all as if it was only yesterday: the driving rain pounding into the planet's dry and dusty soil, the lightning forking across roiling skies, the brief flashes of light illuminating the distant crags of ominous mountains, the sounds of his fellow marines as they unloaded the shuttle and prepared base camp.

He shook off such vivid memories and continued, "We had been ordered to investigate anomalous seismic activity near the colony that had just been set up. The brass was worried that the colony was threatened by the possibility of frequent earthquakes."

"Seems a little excessive to send in marines for a job like that," Joker observed. "Why not scientists?"

"They were scheduled to set up once we had secured the area," Shepard said. "Akuze was known to be frequented by pirates and raiders, and the colony had been hit by more than one mercenary band. We had to protect the equipment and personnel against attacks."

"Did you see any pirates?"

He shook his head. "No. We set up base camp through the night and most of the next day, working double-time to get everything working for the lab-coats. Once the scanning equipment was up and running, though, it started picking up activity in the area. A couple scouts noticed the ground shivering a bit, but nothing to worry about."

"So what happened?" Kaidan asked, his voice hushed. He was listening to the story with singular focus and a very serious expression, as opposed to Jenkins, who was almost bouncing up and down in his seat from excitement.

"We kept an eye on things until that night. And that was when we found them."

"Pirates? Mercs?" Jenkins guessed.

Shepard shook his head. "Thresher Maws."

Jenkins' mouth dropped open in awe.

"And not just one or two," Shepard said with a scowl. "There had to be hundreds of the bastards. Immature, not fully grown, but still lethal. Around midnight, the ground began visibly shaking. I was out on patrol when the ground seemed to just... explode. It was like hell itself was ripping out of the ground; teeth and claws and tentacles, all gnashing and gnawing away like some giant trash disposal."

"Son of a bitch," Joker muttered, shaking his head.

"They attacked our perimeter sensors first: just latching on to the equipment, wrapping around it like a snake, and dragging the machines underground. After that they started doing the same to the soldiers."

He could still hear the screaming, the pleas for help as men and women were viciously dragged under the sand. He could see the flailing, worm-like maws in his minds eye, their tentacle-like tongues seeming to sense where their prey was fleeing. The young maws had shot out of the ground like nightmarish worms, clamping onto the bodies of fighting soldiers in groups of five or six, dragging them to the ground, then tearing into them where they lay. The bigger maws had simply eaten them whole; marines had run for shelter, then there was an eruption of dirt and sand, a splash of blood, and when the dust faded they were gone.

"I knew it was a losing fight from the start," Shepard said. "So I gathered as many survivors as I could and made a run for the shuttle. I lost almost everyone along the way, until it was only me and a lieutenant left."

"And what happened?"

"We made it to the shuttle," Shepard continued. "The pilot had been having dinner when the maws attacked; he'd been dead within the first few minutes. The lieutenant ordered me to get behind the controls and get us off the ground. Before we were more than ten feet up, a maw burst out of the ground, grabbed him by the face, and yanked him out of the ship."

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "By then, I was the only one left alive out of detachment of fifty soldiers. I headed back to orbit, back to the warship we had arrived in."

"And what happened afterward?" Joker asked. "I can't imagine the debrief went well."

"It didn't," Shepard replied with a sigh. "Officially I was called a hero. I had tried to save as many as I could and had survived impossible odds to get back to the ship. What the vids didn't say was that I also left behind multi-million-credit seismic scanning equipment, as well as defying regulations and orders from superiors stating that I had to go back and look for survivors."

"You refused orders?" Jenkins asked, surprised.

"I did," Shepard said with a scowl. "I had just seen my entire unit die without taking down a single one of those maws. I wasn't going to set foot on that godforsaken rock again, no matter what my commanding officers told me to do."

"So what did they do?"

"Officially? Nothing. The Alliance brass liked the good publicity they were getting for once and they weren't about to let it go so easily. But off-camera, I was formally reprimanded for insubordination, breaching regulations, and displaying conduct unbecoming. My N-Seven application was delayed almost two years while they decided if they wanted to accept me or not."

"Nice to see they finally came to a decision," Joker observed, nodding at the N7 insignia on Shepard's uniform.

Shepard shook his head. "And even after earning my N-Seven status, I was given a constant stream of shit assignments. I was lucky they let me stay in the navy at all."

"And then Captain Anderson requests you personally to be the Normandy's executive officer, huh?" Kaidan said. "Makes you question the captain's motives."

Jenkins seemed to still be pondering over Shepard's story. Shepard was more than happy to leave the kid to his ruminations; he didn't feel up to answering any more questions. Despite what the navy psychs said, the memories of Akuze were still raw, and revisiting them so casually was not easy for him.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few long minutes before Joker cleared his throat and said, "Well, boys and girls, this has been very enlightening but this ship doesn't fly itself. Not for long, anyway."

He tipped his cap to them and gingerly rose from his seat before limping off toward the stairs that led up to the CIC and the cockpit. Shepard watched him go, then turned his gaze back to Alenko and Jenkins.

"Any more questions?" he said.

Jenkins shook his head silently while Alenko just shrugged. He picked up his tray and said, "You haven't had the easiest history with the Alliance, Commander. But something tells me Anderson picked the right person for the job."

"I'm glad at least one person thinks so," Shepard said, only half-sarcastic.

"Despite whatever has happened to you in the past," Kaidan said, "you've done a good job here. The crew trusts you, and that's not an easy thing to come by, especially with this band of misfits. Be seeing you, Shepard."

Then he turned and left, leaving Shepard alone at the table with Jenkins. Shepard looked at the kid, challenging him to ask another question, but the young marine just looked at his tray and silently poked at the food. Shepard sighed again and picked up his tray as he left the table, leaving Jenkins to his meal.


Shepard saluted as Captain Anderson stepped up to the CIC galaxy map. The crew was bustling about the deck as the Normandy prepared to decelerate into the Trebia system, en route to the turian homeworld of Palaven.

"Joker just reported in, sir," he said dropping the salute when Anderson returned the motion. "We'll be exiting the relay tunnel in moments."

"Good," Anderson said. "Prepare for a frosty welcome. We may be political allies with the turians, but that doesn't mean they're all too friendly with the Alliance."

Shepard nodded. He'd had dealings with the stoic, militaristic aliens in the past. The turians were rigid and uptight, to the point many Alliance personnel joked they perpetually walked around with poles up their asses. Nevertheless they had the strongest military of all the Council races and were known to have some of the toughest and most effective soldiers in the galaxy.

He found himself wondering just what they were doing stopping at the turian homeworld, but he knew Anderson would come clean eventually. The Council had ordered the Normandy to make the detour three days before, and the news had put the entire crew on edge. Technically, Normandy was an Alliance ship. The idea of a hard-ass, spiky-headed alien slinking around was not helping shipboard morale.

Joker's voice crackled over the ship's intercom. "We're coming out of the relay tunnel. Prepare for deceleration."

The ship lurched beneath Shepard's feet as the Normandy exited the mass relay tunnel. He could see on the CIC monitors that the blue-white glow around the ship faded into the infinite black of space. The momentum of the relay shot the ship forward some distance before Joker could safely take control again. After a few moments, the ship swung away from the massive relay and headed for a grayish world floating in space ahead of them.

"And that's all folks," Joker said over the intercom. "Smooth transition, heat sinks engaged, all systems running optimally. ETA to Palaven, two hours."

Anderson nodded in satisfaction and turned to a middle-aged, balding man standing at the outskirts of the galaxy map's main terminal. "Pressley, plot a course for Palaven's moon and send a hail to the local recon forces. There should be a shuttle expecting us."

"Aye aye."

Anderson turned and stepped away from the raised podium that overlooked the galaxy map, but Shepard intercepted him as the captain made for the comm room at the back of the CIC. He nodded to Shepard and said, "What do you need, Commander?"

"Sir," Shepard began hesitantly, "I was hoping I could talk to you. In private."

"You have five minutes," Anderson offered as they stepped into the oval-shaped comm room. The room was deserted, the holographic comm displays shut down for the time being. Shepard had never actually been in this part of the ship before; the comm room was used exclusively for private communication with either Admiral Stephen Hackett of Alliance Command or the Citadel Council. Shepard had not been ordered to sit in on conversations with either.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "I'll be brief."

He stopped and linked his arms behind his back, trying to look as official as possible. "Sir, I'd like to ask just what we're doing here. Palaven is outside Alliance jurisdiction. We have no business here."

"Technically the Council is the judge of that."

Shepard frowned. "Have we received orders from the Council?"

"We have," Anderson said slowly, a frown furrowing his brow. "But the exact details are classified, I'm afraid."

Shepard had to pause at that. Something definitely had the captain on edge. The way he was acting, frowning darkly, as if preoccupied with other thoughts, one fist clenched anxiously behind his back. What were these orders they had been given? He knew Anderson well enough that no routine mission would affect him in such a way. Whatever was going on had to be big.

In addition, he had never thought of Anderson as the kind of person to keep information from his second-in-command. Standard procedure stated that a ship's XO was cleared for any and all classified information passed on to the captain; if the captain was killed in action, someone needed to know the mission objectives. The fact that Anderson was circumventing these orders made Shepard uneasy.

"What can you tell me, sir?" he cautiously inquired.

"I suppose as XO you deserve to know a little more than most. Officially, we've been asked to divert to Palaven to pick up a high-priority passenger on our way to to the Alliance colony on Eden Prime."

"That's it?" Shepard said, surprised. "Taxi service for some turian diplomat?"

"It's more than that, Commander," Anderson said. "The passenger is a turian soldier named Nihlus Kryik. And he's no diplomat."

"What's so special about him?"

"He's a Spectre, son."

Shepard blinked, taken aback. He opened his mouth to say more, but found that he had no further questions; the revelation had robbed him of desire for any other knowledge. So he closed his mouth and saluted. "Nothing more, sir."

Anderson nodded and put a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "I think it's high time we let the rest of the crew know what's going on. Quell some of the rumors that are beginning to spring up. For now, all you need to know is that Nihlus is going to be a permanent addition to the crew. He will observe the ship's operations as well as oversee any ground missions you and the marines are deployed to handle. Apart from that, it's business as usual."

Shepard knew life would be anything but business as usual when this Nihlus came aboard. But he just nodded and said, "Understood, sir. I won't take any more of your time."

"Then you're dismissed, Commander," Anderson said.

Shepard turned and left the comm room, now with more questions than when he had entered.

"A Spectre? As in the super-secret-trigger-happy-law-ignoring Council hitmen?"

Shepard wasn't sure he agreed with such a description, but he nodded and said, "Right here, on the Normandy."

Joker shook his head. "Well slap my ass and break my pelvis in the process. I guess we're going to get dropped in the shit now."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Commander," Joker scoffed, pivoting the pilot's seat so he faced Shepard. "You really think the Council would send a Spectre to... what did Anderson say again?"

"Observe the ship's operations and oversee ground deployments," Shepard supplied.

"Yeah," Joker said, shaking his head. "I call serious bullshit on that one."

"As much as I might hate to," Kaidan said while he ran a system diagnostic from the seat next to him, "I'm going to have to agree. If they're putting a Spectre on board, the Council has more planned for the Normandy than the captain is letting on."

"Spectres are only assigned to priority missions that need someone to work above the law," Joker said. "They can literally do whatever the hell they feel like without anyone telling them otherwise. What's he gonna do here? Make unscheduled inspections of the engine room? Use up all of Chakwas' drugs without any consequences?"

"For now, all we're doing is heading to the colony on Eden Prime," Shepard said. "We're probably in for nothing more than a week or so of mindless drills, then Nihlus is going to report back and we'll be on our way."

"Let's hope so for our sake," Joker said, pivoting back to the controls. "But hey, isn't Jenkins from Eden Prime?"

"That's what his service record says."

Joker shook his head. "A Spectre coming on board and heading home all in the same week? I wouldn't be surprised if the kid's head explodes from excitement."

"Be nice," Kaidan warned.

Joker shrugged. "Either way it might get him off your back for a while, Commander. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"Maybe. For now, what does the situation on Palaven look like?"

"From all I've heard, typical day on the range here Military ships everywhere, barely enough room for a frigate like us to squeeze in. Not all that surprising, considering this is the turian homeworld. As paranoid as these guys can be, I'm surprised they even cleared us into the system at all."

"And the Spectre?"

"Well," Joker said, pulling up a comm diagnostic on one of the monitors in front of him, "if they're transmitting the right coordinates, we should be coming up on Nihlus' shuttle in a couple minutes. Better make sure your uniform's on straight and you're wearing the right color socks. From what I hear the turians are sticklers for things like that."

"Noted," Shepard said. He adjusted his armor and gestured to Kaidan. "Alenko, I want the entire marine detachment ready for inspection. I'll catch up with you after Nihlus is aboard."

"Right, Commander."

Shepard nodded and turned to head back down the CIC bridge his boots making loud, pounding thuds on the deck as he went. The entire marine detail had been ordered to present themselves not in their uniform blues but in their combat armor with their issued weapons. Turians respected displays of strength and signs of obedience in equal measure, and Anderson was obviously eager to put on a good show for the Spectre.

"Shepard to hangar crew," he said over his comm. "How's it coming?"

"The drive core is operating at peak efficiency, commander," Adams reported. "And the rest of the engineers are getting the Mako up to scratch in case Nihlus wants to take the beast out for a spin."

"Glad to hear it," Shepard said as he saw Captain Anderson approaching. "Keep up the good work. Shepard out."

"Commander," Anderson greeted him, "how are we looking?"

"All lights are green, sir, but the crew is edgy. Half these people have never even seen a turian before, let alone served with one."

"And I wish I could set their minds at ease," the captain said, "but I've never served with Nihlus before. And turians can be unpredictable. Some want nothing but peace with humanity and are willing to serve with us on equal footing. And others, mostly veterans from the First Contact War, still think we'll always be inferior."

"Should we expect hostilities?" Shepard felt compelled to ask.

"That would be a good bet, commander," Anderson replied. A scowl crossed his face. "I know I'll be."

"Sir?"

Anderson looked up, as if he'd been lost in thought. "Hm? Oh, it's nothing. Just... lost in old memories."

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"If I may, sir, you've been tense ever since receiving these orders," Shepard said. "What has you so worried?"

"I believe it's none of your business, commander," Anderson said. "All I'm willing to say is that I haven't had the best experience with turian Spectres. Leave it at that."

"Yes sir."

They stepped out into the CIC and Captain Anderson climbed the steps to the galaxy map. The ship intercom crackled and Joker's voice said, "Captain, we've got a turian shuttle hailing the Normandy. Patching them through now."

A deep, growling voice took over now. "Normandy, this is turian diplomatic transport Aniach, requesting permission to dock."

"Permission granted, Aniach," Anderson replied. "Welcome aboard."

It was a tense few minutes as the turian shuttle glided through space toward the ship. Shepard took up position at the XO terminal next to the galaxy map and tracked the shuttle's progress. He was aware that the bridge had gone deathly silent and the other preparation crews had stopped checking in.

A series of deep, metallic clanks rumbled through the ship as the shuttle attached itself to the external docking port. Shepard inhaled deeply as the docking bay door slowly sheathed open. Everything was still and silent for a few moments, then Shepard heard the distinct sound of taloned feet clicking on the grated metal deck.

The first figures to step onto the ship were two tall, crimson-armored turians. Looking vaguely canine and avian in appearance, they strode purposefully onto the ship, Vindicator battle rifles held tight in their two-fingered hands. Their angular mandibles twitched almost in unison and they turned their heads slowly, surveying the CIC. They took up position on either side of the command bridge, well aware that every eye on deck was riveted to them. They shouldered their rifles and stood at attention, one of them growling, "The turian Hierarchy is pleased to announce the arrival of Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik."

A single solitary figure strode into sight now. He was taller than the two guards and his armored skin was darker than the others, almost jet black. His ridged face and spined crest was adorned with brilliant white facial tattoos and his bright green gaze shone out from recessed eye sockets with a fury Shepard found disconcerting. His armor was a mixture of black and scarlet, with glowing status lights that cast blood-red highlights on the metal deck around him.

Anderson saluted. "Spectre. It's an honor to have you aboard."

Nihlus came to a halt precisely between his two bodyguards and returned the salute. "Captain. I've heard a great many things about you. I look forward to serving with you."

Shepard was surprised at that. Every turian he'd met in his military career had hated humans with a vengeance. Was the Spectre being sarcastic, or was he different from his fellows?

Anderson stepped down from his position on the galaxy map, subtly gesturing for Shepard to keep close. Shepard shut down his terminal and stepped after the captain, watching that the turian bodyguards kept their weapons lowered. He knew their kind were prone to aggressive overreaction; the First Contact War had begun because turian patrols had assumed previously undiscovered human ships were hostile and had opened fire. Shepard didn't want a similar situation unfolding in the CIC.

Anderson, however, seemed calm and confident as he strode directly up to Nihlus and held out a welcoming hand. The Spectre stared at it for a few moments, then narrowed his eyes and shook the Captain's hand.

"Welcome to the Normandy."