3
Interview with Admiral David Anderson
"What can you tell us about Nihlus' presence aboard the Normandy?"
"He was an agitating factor if I ever saw one. He was a good soldier, but the crew didn't like him in the least. He kept to himself, mostly. That only made the crew edgier."
"He didn't speak with anyone?"
"Come to think of it, he did seem to take a liking to Shepard."
"Despite his orders from the Council?"
"Yes. He seemed to genuinely believe in the commander. I think he agreed with my assessment of him, believed he could go on to do great things."
"Surprising from a turian. Their kind rarely shows goodwill toward humanity."
"You obviously haven't met Garrus Vakarian."
"We have a different operative interviewing him. But please, continue."
Normandy cargo bay, 2183
Shepard stepped out of the elevator and into the cargo bay on the engineering deck of the ship, looking for some peace and quiet during his off-duty hours. Since boarding hours before, Nihlus had disappeared into the comm room and hadn't been seen since. The crew had been on edge since then and Shepard had been doing his best to keep the crew operating at peak efficiency despite the unsettling effect the turian had on morale.
Just past the elevator in the open shuttle bay sat the Mako. A massive, six-wheeled rapid deployment tank, the M35 Mako tank was designed for drops into heavy combat zones. Shepard knew the vehicle was tough, adaptable, and reliable. He had seen the tanks in action on many occasions in the past, most recently when deployed on an operation to pacify pirate activity on Ovis VII.
The mission had been going badly. The pirate forces had outnumbered the Alliance soldiers at least two to one. Shepard and a small group of other marines had been caught in the open, pinned on all sides by hostile fire. Just when Shepard had thought they would be overwhelmed, there had been a deep, resounding boom from above and he had looked up just in time to see the Mako plummet through the clouds. It had fired its propulsion jets just before hitting the ground, blasting batarian and vorcha soldiers aside. Landing in a cascade of dirt and rock, the Mako had quickly stabilized itself and swiveled its 155m cannon to open fire on the enemy.
The pirate forces never stood a chance. Turret emplacements had been ripped to shreds, soldiers tossed bodily into the air from powerful explosions. Mercs had brought rocket launchers to bear on the tank, but it had been too quick for them. It had rolled past Shepard's small band of troops, swinging wide to the left to avoid fire. Then it activated its propulsion jets again, sending it into a high jump over a missile streaking right for it. It had landed on an incline, fired its rockets again to push away from it, and landed right in the middle of the pirate encampment.
The firefight had ended within moments. With coordinated fire from what few Alliance soldiers remained, the Mako had ripped the pirates to shreds, tearing through weapon depots and defense barriers with ease. The resounding thoom, thoom, thoom of its cannon had drowned out all other sound, swamping Shepard's hearing. His ears had continued ringing for hours after the battle.
He smiled a little and traced a hand along a single tire that was taller than he was. The Mako operator had been welcomed as a hero after the battle, treated to seemingly endless rounds of drinks and celebratory handshakes or hugs. Shepard, never having been the partying type, had merely nodded to the man and shook his hand in thanks. The man had nodded back, understanding the sincerity of the gesture.
"Nice to finally show those pirates who's boss around here," the operator had said with a crooked grin.
"I'm just glad everyone got out safe and sound," Shepard had replied. It wasn't often he could make such a claim. He certainly hadn't been able at Akuze...
"It is unwise," said a dark voice from behind him, "to lose focus, even in friendly territory."
Shepard started, jerked from memories of the past, and spun to find Nihlus standing behind him. The turian's green eyes flashed dangerously and he linked his arms behind his back. His mandibles flexed slowly and he cocked his head slightly, watching Shepard intently.
Shepard was unsure how to respond. Nihlus wasn't Alliance, so he held no official position aboard the ship. But he was also a Spectre, a Council Special Forces agent who operated outside the confines of the law. He decided to play it safe and treat the turian as a superior officer, at least for the time being. He straightened and saluted. "Sir. I didn't see you there."
"At ease, Commander," Nihlus growled, stepping past him. He turned his spined head upward, studying the Mako as Shepard had done moments before. He was silent for a few moments before he narrowed his eyes and said, "A fascinating work of engineering, is it not?"
"The Mako?"
"No, no," Nihlus said dismissively. "The Mako was designed solely by Alliance engineers. I am speaking of the Normandy."
"Oh. Then yes, sir. It's an amazing ship."
"It was designed as a joint project with the turians, as I'm sure you're aware. A sign of cooperation, that our species can work together for the betterment of all."
Nihlus shook his head and stepped away from the Mako, looking around the cargo bay. Again, he remained silent for an uncomfortably long time before saying, "You have little experience with my race, is that right Commander?"
"Yes sir." Shepard had only encountered turians on a few occasions before now and even then only for short periods of time.
"And I have little experience with yours." Nihlus said, turning to face him again. "One could say we are on equal footing."
Somehow, Shepard didn't get the idea Nihlus was proposing they be friends. "If you say so, sir."
"Humanity is a newcomer to the galaxy, Shepard," the Spectre growled, his mandibles twitching erratically. "Some believe your people's push for more political power is irrational. Even dangerous. There is much about this galaxy you do not yet understand. Do you believe humanity is ready for more influence?"
Shepard narrowed his eyes. What kind of question was that? He hesitated, wavering under Nihlus' blazing green gaze, then said, "I can't answer that, sir. I'm just a soldier."
"But the Alliance is held on the shoulders of men and women like you, Commander. Soldiers. Fighters. You've been out there, in the trenches. You've seen the dangers this galaxy holds."
Nihlus was obviously speaking of Akuze. Yes, Shepard knew more than most how dangerous the galaxy could be, but somehow the Spectre still wasn't revealing his true intentions.
"I ask you again, Shepard. With your experience, your predominantly military experience, do you believe the Alliance is ready to expand further into the galaxy?"
Shepard sighed, tired of the turian's riddles. But he thought over the question and eventually said, "The Alliance could benefit from the Council's help. And the Council could use the Alliance as well."
Nihlus' mandibles twitched once, an obvious sign of surprise.
Shepard continued. "When we activated our first mass relay, we discovered a galactic community much larger than our own tiny system. And whether we like it or not, we're part of that community now. Since the First Contact War, humanity has advanced further than the past two hundred years combined. But not without the help of the asari, the salarians, the turians, and countless others. So yes, I believe the Alliance could handle more influence and power. But not without the support and assistance of the other races."
"Modest of you," Nihlus said, though it didn't quite sound like a compliment. "Though many humans do not share such an... open mind."
Shepard shrugged. "We're all in this together. The Normandy is the perfect example of that. The Alliance on its own can make good frigates. The turians can make powerful dreadnaughts. But working together, we can make something that outclasses both. It's the only way to make real progress."
"Some believe humans are upstarts," Nihlus pointed out. "Other species have been part of this so-called galactic community for centuries, yet humans are already vying for more. Some believe your people even desire a seat on the Council."
"I wouldn't know anything about that, sir," Shepard said, frowning.
"Of course not. What I'm saying is that humanity is still a newcomer to this galaxy. And with power comes danger. I fear that the Alliance does not possess the strength to repel such dangers on its own."
"But we're not alone," Shepard said.
"Yes," Nihlus said darkly. "You believe the other races will support humanity should it falter. Naive, if you ask me."
"Optimistic," Shepard countered. "If I saw a turian in trouble, I sure as hell would help him. Would you do the same if the roles were reversed?"
Nihlus cocked his head, mandibles twitching slowly, and merely stared at him with an unreadable look in his eyes. He didn't answer, didn't even look like he was contemplating a response. After some time, he simply turned away and said, "Thank you, Commander. This exchange has been most... enlightening."
Then he marched back to the elevator, hit the button, and disappeared out of sight.
"Turians are hard to read, Commander. It's not surprising you can't get any information from him."
Shepard rolled his eyes. "I hear that."
Admiral Stephen Hackett, or more precisely his voice as it filtered over Shepard's holographic omni-tool, paused thoughtfully for a few moments. "And he didn't say any more than that?"
"Nothing," Shepard said. He had just told of his talk with Nihlus in the holding cell. "I don't know if this is a publicity stunt or turians trying their hand at espionage, but Nihlus is acting strange. I can barely get two seconds alone before I turn around and find him watching me from some dark corner."
"I wouldn't make any assumptions yet Commander. It's too early in the game to tell what's going on. And with the Council breathing down your necks, you all have to be looking your best. Just keep the ship and the crew operating as usual and Nihlus won't find anything out of the ordinary, even if he is there for espionage."
Shepard nodded. "Yes sir."
"I don't like this. The Normandy has been under the direct control of Alliance forces for months now. It's not like the Council to pull authority so quickly like this. Something big must be happening and something tells me Nihlus is right in the middle of it."
"If he is," Shepard said, "we'll all find out sooner or later."
"I agree. Keep me posted. Hackett out."
The comm line shut down and Shepard deactivated his omni-tool. Corporal Jenkins, who was leaning against a nearby bulkhead, shook his head in disbelief. "Well that was about as useful as a pistol against a rampaging krogan. I thought you said you had some pull with this guy?"
"I said I've known Hackett for years," Shepard corrected. "He's still a superior officer."
"And even he doesn't know what's going on. I'm starting to think they're deliberately keeping us in the dark. Like, what if we're going to some top-secret military cover-up? It could be some big conspiracy that they've got to hide from everyone else."
"That only happens in spy vids, Jenkins," Shepard said with a frown. "You need to calm down."
"Easy for you to say," Jenkins said with a grin. "You're already a military hero. But what happens when I get to show my stuff to a Spectre?"
"Your stuff?"
"You know... stuff! I want to show Nihlus what I can do in battle!"
Shepard shook his head as he eased himself down on one of the mess hall benches on the crew deck. "Corporal, you'll have plenty of time to show your stuff to Alliance brass. I don't think Nihlus is a very good role model."
"But he's a Spectre!" Jenkins said in exasperation. "They're the best of the best in the entire galaxy! The best tacticians, the best soldiers, the best military minds out there!"
"Jenkins, every Special Forces organization claims to be the best of the best," Shepard sighed. "The salarian Special Tasks Group, the asari Commando Division, the turian Blackwatch... they all claim to be the best in the galaxy."
"And what does that make you?"
Shepard paused. "What?"
Jenkins cocked his head. "You're N-Seven."
"So?"
"So, according to what I've heard, the the Interplanetary Combatives Program is designed to make the best soldiers in the Alliance. Even troops who have an N-One rating are considered damn good."
"I'm still not seeing the point, Corporal."
"What I'm saying is that you've proven how good you are, sir. At the ICT program and at Akuze. But no one's ever seen what I can do. And this could be my chance."
Shepard shook his head. "Don't be too eager to throw yourself into battle, Jenkins. It's dangerous for yourself and your squadmates. Your time will come."
The young marine shook his head. "Sorry, sir, but I'm not that patient. And I'm going to show Nihlus and this entire ship what I'm capable of."
He saluted, then turned and headed up the stairs, back to his post in the CIC. Shepard found himself alone on the crew deck, save for a few off-duty crewmen chatting near the door to Anderson's personal quarters.
Shepard sighed and shook his head again. Jenkins' was too excitable and that was going to get him in trouble some day. Shepard himself had once been very similar to the Corporal: young, impressionable, eager to prove his worth to the galaxy. Akuze had changed that. He hoped Jenkins wasn't forced to endure something similar.
He had been interviewed by the Alliance News Network after the attack. He was seen as a hero, having tried to save so many and surviving to tell about it. He'd still been in shock from the attack, unable to understand why he was being so idolized for failing to save his unit. He did, however, remember his response to one of the more sensitive questions.
"Lieutenant Shepard," the interviewer had said, "what does it feel like to be the only survivor of such a dreadful attack?"
Shepard had spent a long time thinking about the answer to such a question. Eventually he had said, "Moments like that... they change you. And not for the better. They can break you if you let them."
"But you're a hero!" the interviewer had said. "You escaped a massive thresher maw attack with your life!"
"And what about everyone else? Huh? Jensen and Mattias and Toombs. Are they heroes as well? Or are they just statistics now?"
The interviewer had meant to say more, but Shepard had stood and shoved the floating cam recorder away from his face. "This interview is over."
Needless to say, the interview hadn't pleased his superiors. He'd been reprimanded, severely, and his next post was doing guard duty on the asteroid mining colony of Olympus V. But he had learned a valuable lesson: the mission wasn't a success unless everyone made it out alive. Yes, he knew soldiers died in battle, knew that sometimes sacrifice was inevitable. But a leader's duty was to ensure the safety of those under his command and, failing that, to ensure that their death wasn't in vain.
There had been no such option on Akuze. Over fifty marines had died horrible deaths, and for what? The only thing to come out of the mission was million-credit research equipment lost. It was a pointless loss and Shepard's survival a pointless victory.
His comm buzzed, shaking him from such dark thoughts. He shook his head and told himself to focus on the present. Losing himself in the past would only lead to pain.
His comm buzzed again and he activated his omni-tool to answer. "This is Shepard."
"Better get your shit together, Commander," said Joker's voice. "We're coming up on the Arcturus Relay for transit to Eden Prime. Anderson wants you on the bridge in full battle gear."
Shepard nodded. "On my way."
It took Shepard only ten minutes to pull on his armor and gather his gear. He attached his Avenger assault rifle, in its compact standby mode, to the magnetic clamp on his backplate, swiftly followed by a sniper rifle, shotgun, and pistol. He adjusted one forearm plate and frowned as he stepped away from his armor locker.
Shepard wasn't the only one gearing up. The Normandy'sentire marine detachment looked like they were preparing for battle, checking over weapons and armor and helping each other suit up. The requisitions officer was walking among them, passing out ammo and mods to increase the effectiveness of the issued weapons – for a price of course. A group of engineers were checking over the Mako, while Adams and another team were running last-minute diagnostics on the drive core.
Anderson was obviously having them prepare for a ground operation. And Shepard got the feeling that Nihlus was behind it all somehow.
He grabbed a set of grenades and tucked them into pouches on his belt. He then rode the cargo lift back up to the crew deck and stopped by Chakwas' office to stock up on medi-gel. The healing salve, a combination anesthetic and clotting agent, was a must among combat soldiers, EMTs, and paramedics alike. A single shot of the gel was enough to dull the pain of most wounds and seal injuries until they could be looked at by a qualified medical technician. He was sure he'd need it before this mission was over.
He took the stairs up to the CIC two at a time, but entered the command deck at a quick walk, not wanting to disturb the crew. The deck was bustling with activity, with crewmates at almost every terminal and piloting station, calling out statuses to each other or hurrying across the main bridge to exchange information. Shepard made his way through the hustle, nodding to Navigator Pressley as he passed, and headed up the long corridor to the cockpit.
Nihlus was already there, arms folded, watching the readouts intently. Joker was transmitting the Normandy's status as they drew closer to the Arcturus Relay, while Kaidan was flying shotgun to help with navigation.
"Transmitting jump coordinates..." Joker said, somehow keeping an eye on at least five glowing holographic monitors at once. "Okay, the relay has accepted the coordinates and is primed for jump."
Shepard could see the mass relay through the main observation ports in the cockpit. A gigantic alien machine far beyond the technological capabilities of any living species, the relay was a combination of two branching arms at least fifteen kilometers long. These arms connected to a rounded portion at the rear that housed a series of spinning gyroscopic rings, which surrounded a gigantic, ever-shifting blue-white core of of pure element zero.
"Coming up on the relay now," Joker reported. " Engines locked in transit mode. Heat sinks fully discharged and operating normally. All systems are go for jump."
"Copy that, all systems go," reported Adams from the engineering deck.
"We're green for the jump," Joker said. "Fasten your seatbelts everyone. Hitting the relay in five... four... three..."
Nihlus saw Shepard approach and nodded silently. Shepard nodded back, then turned back to the view of the relay. The gyroscopic rings were spinning faster now, as if the device could sense the Normandy's approach. Light danced along the surface of the machine in rhythmic pulses. The view was oddly hypnotic.
"Two...one!"
A single tendril of glowing-blue white flame sprang out from the relay's core, striking the Normandy's hull. The entire ship seemed to quiver and the space outside glowed a bright blue. Then the deck bucked beneath Shepard's feet and the relay vanished from sight, replaced by a dizzying swirl of color as the Normandy's mass was reduced to near zero and the ship was shot forward through space. Streaks of purple, blue, and white all flashed past the cockpit windows with blinding speed, fast enough Shepard had to look away. The deck trembled and the entire ship seemed to hum. Shepard felt tempted to reach out and grab a bulkhead to steady himself, while Nihlus stood as still as a statue, blazing green eyes fixed ahead.
"All right, everyone," Joker said, gritting his teeth. "We're exiting the transit corridor now. Prepare for deceleration."
A few seconds later, the Normandy bucked underfoot again and the multi-colored relay tunnel dissolved into the infinite black expanse of space. The blue-white glow around the ship faded as the ship veered away from another, identical relay behind them.
"Right..." Joker said, readjusting his cap. "That was bumpier than usual. Let's see... all systems are green. The heat sinks are active and still draining thermal emissions. All systems are go. Activating propulsion drives and setting course for Eden Prime."
"Prepare a report and keep me updated on the ship's progress," Nihlus growled. "Continue."
The turian spun and marched away back down the hall, eventually disappearing into the comm room at the back of the CIC. Joker turned in his seat to watch him leave, then threw his hands up in the air.
"I don't believe that guy!" he snapped, pulling his cap down over his eyes. He gestured to the readouts before him. "I'm sitting here, in charge of the most advanced warship in the galaxy, and I just jumped us halfway across the galaxy in a matter of seconds by decoding the operating system of a fifty-thousand-year-old alien machine of completely unknown origin. He should be getting down on his knees and thanking whatever turian gods he has that we didn't end up splattered against the face of some godforsaken rock in the middle of dark space!"
Kaidan sighed and said, "So first you just wanted Nihlus to acknowledge your existence and now you want him to get down on his knees and kiss your feet?"
Joker grunted noncommittally. "It'd go a long way, yeah. Get rid of some of that Spectre stigma he's got hanging over his head."
Kaidan shrugged as he typed into the orange-lit holographic displays in front of him. "I still think you're making a big deal out of this. I mean, the Council funded the construction of the Normandy. It makes sense that they'd send one of their own to make sure the Alliance is using it correctly."
"And I still think there's more to it than that," Joker shot back. "Spectres don't get sent on shakedown missions. If the Council wanted someone to babysit us, they'd send a politician. Better for the bureaucracy that way."
"The sooner Nihlus is off the Normandy the better," Shepard said. "I don't get the feeling he's hostile, but having him on board is too unnerving. The sooner this becomes a simple Alliance op again, the happier I'll be."
"Not a big fan of turians, eh Commander?"
Shepard shook his head. "I'm fine with turians. But Nihlus is..."
"Creepy," Kaidan and Joker said simultaneously.
Shepard nodded. "Yeah. And I'm with Joker. Spectres can be the most ruthless agents in the galaxy, the personal black ops hit squad for the Council. They just aren't sent on missions like this."
"Well I guess we'll all find out soon enough-"
The comm cut in over Joker's voice and Anderson's voice barked, "Joker, status report."
The pilot immediately hit the comm button and reported, "We've cleared the relay, Captain, all systems normal. Running smooth, silent, and headed for Eden Prime."
"Good work. Head to the nearest comm buoy and transmit the report I'm forwarding to the Citadel Council. They've requested regular progress updates and I'm not going to disappoint them."
"Aye aye. And just so you know, Nihlus is waiting in the comm room. He's as charming as ever."
"I know. I'm on my way up. Tell the commander to meet me in the comm room for a debriefing."
Joker nodded and looked back to Shepard. "You heard the big guy."
"I'm on my way," Shepard said, and turned to leave.
"Have fun," Joker said in farewell.
Shepard adjusted his heavy chest plate as he headed back toward the galaxy map in the rounded section of the CIC. Finally, a debriefing. It seemed Anderson had finally seen reason and was going to come clean. And if the debriefing was happening in the comm room, then maybe Nihlus was going to come clean as well.
It's about time, Shepard thought. He trusted Anderson with his life, but between the captain's continual evasiveness and Nihlus' watching him around every corner, Shepard had felt uneasy with his surroundings almost since setting foot on the Normandy. He'd known all along that he was missing the bigger picture, but now it seemed he was about to finally find out what was really going on.
Navigator Pressley seemed to be reasoning along similar lines. As Shepard passed the galaxy map terminal, he heard the man engaged in heated conversation with Engineer Adams.
"Nihlus is running this show now," Pressley was saying. "He all but took over the Normandy ever since he stepped on board. And whatever the hell he's planning, we're getting dragged along with him whether we like it or not!"
"Relax, Pressley. Anderson's still the one running the show. Nihlus is just a temporary passenger. You know turians. Nihlus would probably rather space himself out the airlock than spend a moment longer than necessary on this ship."
"You're missing the point. Council funding or not, this is an Alliance vessel. And no spike-headed alien is going to tell me what-"
Pressley noticed Shepard standing behind him and quickly turned and saluted. "Commander," he said, clearing his throat self-consciously. "Looks like we had a smooth transit run through the relay. Are you heading to see the captain?"
Shepard nodded. "Something wrong, Navigator?"
"Absolutely not, sir," the balding man instantly replied. "Just idle conversation, getting a little angry."
"How about you, Adams?" Shepard said, directing the question to the open comm terminal.
"With all due respect, Commander," Adams reported from the engineering deck, "we're all a little edgy. We've had no hails from local Alliance forces that should be stationed around Eden Prime. Scans detect ships in the area, but they're not responding to the Normandy's presence."
"Do you have the stealth systems running?" Shepard asked, folding his arms.
"Nothing but the emissions sinks are operating right now, and we're broadcasting our presence to any ships in range."
"At least we were until that turian commed the bridge and told us to drop everything and run silent," Pressley growled. "And only the captain should be giving us orders like that."
Shepard was well aware of Pressley's distrust of aliens, but had never seen the man so up in arms. "I agree it's odd but Adams is right. You need to calm down, Pressley. We need you cool so you can work efficiently until this is all over."
Pressley nodded and ran a hand through what remained of his graying hair. "All right, Commander. But it'll be a cold day in hell when I take orders from a turian."
"Copy that," Shepard said with a nod. "But like it or not, we have to trust Nihlus for the time being."
"No offense intended, Commander," Pressley said, turning back to his terminal, "but we most certainly do not."
Shepard continued around the galaxy map, aware that the CIC had grown uncomfortably quiet ever since the jump. Crewmen were still working as hard as always but were operating in silence, or conversing in hushed, somber tones. He understood the tension; after so long wondering what was going to happen, the entire crew was on the verge of finally finding out just why Nihlus had been posted to the ship.
Shepard wasn't usually one to disagree with his superiors, or at least not with Captain Anderson, but he had to admit that the captain's recent behavior just wasn't good for the crew. Keeping secrets, staying locked away either in his cabin or the comm room, talking in riddles whenever confronted... it was no wonder the crew was on edge. If Shepard had been in charge, he would have come clean with his orders no matter what they were. The crew was more likely to function properly if everyone knew what they were getting themselves into.
Just beyond the galaxy map, by the small barrier that separated the comm room door from the rest of the CIC, he found Corporal Jenkins and Dr. Chakwas engaged in hushed conversation. The young marine had yet to change into his combat gear and was leaning casually against the wall while Chakwas ran a quick medical examination.
"I grew up on Eden Prime, doc," Jenkins was saying as the doctor tapped results into a handheld datapad. "Nothing happens there. And I mean nothing. It's a boring agricultural colony. I mean, yeah, there's some archaeological value, but there hasn't been a decent find in years."
"I'm sure the Council has its reasons for sending us here," Chakwas replied calmly. "Besides, you should be ecstatic. After all, you are being paid to visit your home."
"Who knows if its even the Council's decision to bring us here? What if its Nihlus himself on some personal mission of his own?"
"I'm sure Captain Anderson would not let us be so easily sidetracked."
"But the captain has no say in it!" Jenkins said. "Nihlus is a Spectre! They can do what they want, go where they want, and kill whoever they want without any consequences. I've heard they can start and end wars with a snap of their fingers."
The corporal snapped his own fingers in example, as if imagining they held the same power. He eventually shrugged and said, "Add that to the fact that Nihlus is a turian, who're badass enough as it is, and you really think Anderson is going to try and stop him?"
"That's Captain Anderson, Corporal," Chakwas corrected sternly. "And yes. I believe if Anderson had to make a decision between the Council's will and the well-being of this ship and crew, he'd stand up to Nihlus in a heartbeat."
Jenkins noticed Shepard's approach and saluted quickly. "What about you, Commander? Do you think Nihlus has something planned for us planetside?"
"It's hard to tell," Shepard replied. "Has he said anything?"
Chackwas snorted. "He just barked out orders to no one in particular for the marines to ready for battle. Whatever battle he was talking about, I don't believe we'll find it on Eden Prime."
Jenkins shook his head. "But he's ordered the entire marine detachment to get prepped for combat! That means he wants us to do something. Man, I can't believe I'm going to be on a mission with a real live Spectre!"
"That excitement is likely to get you in trouble, Corporal," Shepard said. "Just stay cool and treat this like any other mission."
"But it's not like any other mission, is it Shepard?"
"You've got a long career ahead of you, Jenkins," Shepard said, patting the corporal's shoulder as he passed and deliberately avoiding the question. "Keep a level head and a calm attitude and it'll stay that way."
"Yes sir!" Jenkins didn't sound as if he'd heard a word Shepard had just said.
Shepard nodded to the two armor-clad marines flanking the comm room door before stepping inside. There was a long ramp sloping at a gentle decline down to the oval-shaped gathering area, where a number of seats were welded to the deck surrounding the comm system. Designed for long-range military gatherings or briefings, the comm room was the only area of the Normandy that wasn't bustling with activity. In fact, despite a lone turian staring at a holographic information display of Eden Prime, the entire room was deserted.
Shepard reached the middle of the room and came to a halt, unsure of what to do next. Nihlus didn't turn and instead continued to read the information entries on Eden Prime's local flora, fauna, and other notable characteristics. Eventually he sniffed and cocked his spined head.
"Commander Shepard," he said without turning. "I'm glad you're here. It will give us a chance to talk. In private."
Oh great, Shepard thought, clenching his teeth. Because that was such a treat last time.
The turian finally turned and met Shepard's gaze. "I wish to continue our discussion from before, with a different example."
He gestured to the holographic readout behind him. "I am interested in this human colony, Eden Prime. It is said to be one of the most beautiful destinations in the galaxy, with wonders to rival Thessia itself."
"I've never been there," Shepard replied, "but I've heard the same. Although I don't know if a single agricultural colony can rival the entire asari homeworld."
"Hmm," Nihlus growled, mandibles twitching. "Still, the colony is much more than a simple farming colony, or even a tourist destination. It has become much more symbolic to your people, as well as the Council races. Eden Prime is a near-perfect example of humanity's reach, of its ability to not only found new colonies on new worlds, but protect and maintain them."
He narrowed his eyes and turned back to the display. "But just how secure is it? If the colony were to come under attack, would the Alliance be able to defend it or, failing that, send reinforcements in time?"
Shepard frowned. Something in Nihlus' voice made him uncomfortable. "Is that a threat?"
"Not at all. A study of logistics. Influence is measured in more than just military or political power, Commander. To truly have influence over a planet or a system or a sector, one must have the ability to protect and defend in equal measure."
"Are you saying there's something wrong with the way the Alliance is operating?"
"Again you miss the point," Nihlus sighed. "No. Despite the differences between our people, I can admit that the Alliance has done an... admirable job in its expansion efforts. Not all too different from the turians when we traveled through our first mass relays."
"But..."
He turned to face Shepard. "But humanity is still a newcomer to the galaxy, Shepard. There is much your people still need to learn. Take the turian hierarchy as example. The threat of turian firepower is enough to sway entire colonies from violence. Whole pirate fleets and mercenary armies disband when they hear the battle drums of our warriors approaching. Why?"
"Because you have the largest and strongest military in the galaxy," Shepard said. The answer was easy. It was the reason the turians had almost obliterated mankind during the First Contact War.
But Nihlus vehemently shook his head. "No. It is because we demonstrate that we have not only the firepower, but also the resources and opportunity to destroy them. Do you understand?"
"I do," Shepard replied. It was warfare 101: a war took more than a lot of soldiers or a lot of guns. Soldiers had to be fed, sheltered, and kept warm and safe when off the battlefield. Weapons had to be restocked, repaired, and rearmed between conflicts. Ships needed fuel, power, and safe port. War was a multifaceted, coordinated operation, not just a mob with a stockpile of weapons slaughtering each other. "I understand that just fine. But what is your concern with the Alliance?"
Nihlus hesitated, then hooked his arms behind his back. "I fear the Alliance has stretched itself too thin. That mankind's reach has exceeded its grasp."
"Really?" Shepard said, unconvinced.
"I speak the truth. As you yourself said before, we are all in this together. And it is my duty as a Spectre to assist you in any potential conflicts."
Shepard raised an eyebrow, still not sure Nihlus spoke the truth. "Why would you help us? You have no love for humanity."
"Are you so sure?" the turian shot back. He clicked his mandibles once, a sign of irritation. "The turians maintain peaceful, if not friendly, trade relations with the Alliance. Food, ammunition, construction supplies, the like. These are the building blocks, the resources, necessary for a mobilization for war. If the Alliance were to fall, access to such resources would be cut off and suddenly our ability to maintain control over hostile sectors begins to waver. The Hierarchy suffers."
He began pacing back and forth. "If the Hierarchy wavers, turian troops would be recalled to Palaven and other worlds to maintain the peace. Our own borders are solidified, but military presence across the galaxy is simultaneously weakened. The Council worlds suffer."
He turned again and Shepard saw a sincerity in the turian's green eyes that hadn't been there before. "If the Council begins to weaken, it would not be long before those long kept under its control begin to question its authority. Before long, the krogan become restless and begin raiding trade routes, further weakening the infrastructure of galactic politics. And if the krogan make a move, you can believe the Batarian Hegemony is not far behind. After that, who knows? The vorcha may make a bid for power, or even the Yahg."
He held Shepard's gaze. "It is like ripples in a pond. From a small occurrence, larger ones are born. And if the Alliance is weakened, or any galactic faction for that matter, the entire galaxy suffers."
He gestured to himself. "That is my true purpose Shepard, both on this ship and abroad. My mandate as a Spectre is to maintain galactic stability. To ensure that the Alliance, the Hierarchy, the Council, and all the rest operate smoothly and cooperatively with each other and therefore prevent future catastrophe.
"You may believe I harbor hostile feelings toward your people," he continued, "but I understand humanity's potential. Your people have an opportunity to rise above a myriad of other races, despite your many shortcomings. And I would be one of the first to seek friendship with a stronger, more resilient Alliance. But you must first prove that you are ready for such power. Do you understand?"
Shepard stared at the turian, seeing a new side of Nihlus for the first time. He eventually nodded. "Yeah... I think I do."
"Good," Nihlus said, turning his back. "Then there may be hope for you yet, Commander."
Shepard frowned. "For what?"
Before the Spectre could reply, Anderson stepped into the comm room. He appeared to have overheard the entire exchange. Shepard was surprised at the captain's appearance: his face was drawn and haggard, as if he hadn't slept in days. But Shepard knew better than to comment on such things, so he merely saluted and said, "Captain Anderson."
The captain nodded and saluted back. When he spoke, his voice was coarse and gravelly. "Are you ready for a debriefing, Commander? It's high time you knew what was really going on around here."
"Agreed," Nihlus said, still staring at the holographic display. "Commander, this is far more than a test of the Normandy's capabilities."
Shepard nodded, silently hoping the rest of the debrief wouldn't be so obvious. "So what are we really doing out here?"
Anderson nodded to Nihlus, who punched up the readout of what looked like some kind of planetside excavation. "This is the main dig site for archaeological operations in the colony. About a week ago, the scientists excavating there uncovered some kind of ancient distress beacon. They don't have any definitive answers, but they do know one thing: it's Prothean."
That made Shepard pause. The Protheans, a long extinct race of space-faring aliens, were the culture responsible for the construction of the Mass Relays and the Citadel space station, the seat of galactic government. They were the masters of technology that was far more advanced than anything even the Asari could imagine. They had vanished mysteriously over fifty thousand years ago, leaving only their technology behind. If this distress bacon was still operational, who knew what information it had stored over the past fifty thousand years?
"I understand the need for secrecy, Captain," he said slowly, "but why didn't you tell me? This is important, but it isn't exactly sensitive information. That beacon isn't going anywhere."
"These orders came from the top," Anderson explained. "We were told to distribute information strictly on a need-to-know basis. And I'm sorry, Shepard, but you and the crew didn't need to know."
"What changed?"
"Forty-eight hours ago," Nihlus said, taking over, "we lost contact with Alliance ships in the system. An hour after that, the colony itself went dark."
"And now that we're in-system,"Anderson continued, "we've received readings of unknown ship signatures patrolling the area. We don't know if it's pirates or slavers or the Quarian fleet on a resupply run. Frankly, it doesn't matter. Our orders are to secure the beacon and transport it back to the Citadel for study."
"Should we expect hostiles planetside?"
Nihlus snarled, mandibles clicking with a slow, steady rhythm. "A good soldier should always expect hostiles. That way he's ready for anything."
Anderson ignored the remark. "You'll be heading a detachment of marines I'm sending planet side. Your primary objective is to secure the beacon for transport aboard Normandy. Nihlus will accompany you."
"And what about survivors? Civilians and scientists?"
"They're not the objective. Your orders are to help who you can, but not to such extent that your mission is delayed."
Shepard nodded. "Understood."
"This is big, Shepard," Anderson said. "Really big. The last Prothean discovery of this magnitude led to the activation of the Charon Relay. Even if we share the find with the Council, it could jump our technology forward by decades. Centuries even."
"I'm guessing that's why you're here," Shepard said, looking at Nihlus.
"Not quite."
Anderson took over. "Nihlus also has a different purpose here. He's here to... observe you."
"Me?"
Nihlus finally turned back to face them. "Yes, you. In recent months, the Council has been reviewing human military candidates for induction into the Spectre program. After some consideration, the search was narrowed to include only graduates of your human Interplanetary Combatives Training Program."
"N-Sevens," Shepard murmured.
"Correct. The human ambassador on the Citadel spearheaded the search, but lacked the military experience to choose a suitable candidate. At the request of the Council, he turned to Captain Anderson for suggestions. Anderson held unique knowledge of the program, being the first graduate of the N-Seven program."
Nihlus folded his arms. "He suggested you."
Shepard stood still, pondering over this for some time. Eventually, he looked over at Anderson and said, "I'm flattered, sir. But I'm not sure I'm quite Spectre material."
"I do," Anderson said. "I wouldn't have put your name forward otherwise."
Shepard sighed and stared at the floor. "I assume this will be good PR for the Alliance, sir?"
"The best," Anderson replied. "We've been pushing for more political power with the Council for years. You would be the first human Spectre in galactic history, Commander. Just think what opportunities that would create for the Alliance."
He nodded. "I can imagine."
"That's why I'm here, Commander," Nihlus said, stepping toward them. "To evaluate just how prepared you are for Spectre training. Eden Prime will be the first test of your skills, to be followed by many others."
Shepard would be lying if he said he was excited about the prospect of further operations with Nihlus. But Anderson was right; it would be good for the Alliance. He wasn't about to stand in the way of such important political matters, no matter how uncomfortable he was. He was a soldier, and would follow the orders he was given. So he nodded to Anderson and said, "I won't let you down, sir."
"I know you won't," Anderson replied with an encouraging smile. "You're a good soldier, Shepard. I know you'll-"
The comm buzzed, interrupting him. Joker's voice came over the shipboard speakers. "Captain!"
Anderson looked up sharply. "What is it, Joker?"
"We just got a priority message from Eden Prime. The signal was weak, but we managed to patch it up enough for an audio-video feed. You're gonna want to see this."
"Put it through to the comm room monitor," the captain ordered, glancing at Shepard in confusion.
At his request, the holographic monitor flickered and the information readout on Eden Prime died, replaced by a video feed. It was blurry and sporadically shot through with static. Anderson squinted at the monitor until the message cleared, showing the frightened face of an Alliance marine.
"This is Eden Prime marine command!" the soldier shouted. Explosions drowned out his voice, sprays of dirt and chunks of rock obscuring his vision. He grimaced, then let out a curse and said, "We're being overrun by an unknown enemy. The colony is under attack! I repeat, the colony is under attack! We need reinforcements-"
A massive explosion knocked the man off his feet and the camera shook wildly. There was nothing in the screen for a few moments, until a woman in white and pink armor sprinted into view, opening fire at an unseen enemy. She ducked against a spray of bright blue energy bolts, then dropped to her knees and crawled toward the marine who had spoken before.
"Marley?" she said, shaking the man. He didn't move. "Marley, answer me!"
She grabbed her rifle again, muttered a curse, then turned to the camera. She was breathing hard and her suit was stained with blood in several places. "If anyone is watching this, this is Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the Two-Twelve marine Division. Eden Prime is under premeditated, coordinated siege. I... I don't know what we're up against but whatever they are, they're strong, fast, and smart. We can't hold out with the handful of marines we've got right now!"
She cursed again as another explosion rocked the camera. The view panned wildly to show other marines in the area, weapons in hand, staring up at the sky in terror. More explosions, more flashes of blue-white light, then the cam view panned again to the sky. The clouds roiled in billowing towers of purple and black, while off-color lightning flashed down to the ground. And hanging in the air far above was a massive ship unlike anything Shepard had seen before. The view jerked away again before Shepard could get a good look, back to Gunnery Chief Williams.
"We can't stand much more of this," she gasped. "If anyone can see this, send immediate reinforcements now or we'll lose the entire colony!"
Another explosion and the camera fell to the ground. Through the increasing static, Shepard could see Williams gather her forces and retreat, away from their unseen attackers. A few seconds after that, the message cut out.
"Nothing after that Captain," Joker reported. "The message has been looping ever since we came out of FTL."
Anderson narrowed his eyes. "Reverse the feed and hold steady at thirty-eight-point-five seconds. Zoom and enhance, then loop the portion as best you can."
The image reversed until it displayed the mysterious ship again, floating vertically in the sky. The image zoomed, then cleared up slightly, and Shepard got his first good look at the construct. It was monstrous, larger than any other ship Shepard had seen, with a diamond-shaped body stretching kilometers up into the clouds. A series of multi-jointed landing struts jutted from its housing, curling and flexing slowly as if alive. Scarlet lightning arced across its surface, jumping from its purplish hull to the dark clouds surrounding it.
Shepard had never seen anything like it and couldn't even begin to guess who had sponsored or requested its construction. After a few moments he looked to the other two, judging their reactions. Anderson was staring at the display with a scowl, obviously asking the same questions Shepard was. Nihlus' contoured face was unreadable as always, angular mandibles flexing slowly.
Anderson broke the silence first. "Joker, set course to Eden Prime. I want us there within the hour."
"Aye aye."
Nihlus turned and stalked out of the room without another word. Anderson watched him go, then turned to Shepard and said, "Commander, get your gear and tell Alenko and Jenkins to prep for a shuttle ride to the surface."
He pointed to the image of the unknown ship. "Whatever that thing is, it's obviously here for the beacon. Get to it before these invaders can transport it off world."
"Aye aye."
Anderson nodded, then turned and headed up the ramp to the CIC. Shepard took one last look at the image of the gigantic ship, then powered down the display and followed him.
