Captain Anderson looked over the saluting Commander Shepard, a bit bemused. Despite that, he immediately saluted, giving Shepard a slight nod as the two relaxed.
"I apologize, Captain," Shepard said as she retrieved the bags from beside her feet. "I've heard a great deal about you, sir; honestly wasn't expecting you to greet me as soon as I got here."
Anderson grunted, before motioning for Shepard to follow him towards a nearby hallway. "No need for apologize; I understand that my actions speak for me before I even enter a room. It's something I've become accustomed to, unfortunately."
Shepard chuckled quietly. "It's not every day that you get to meet one of the founding members of the most prestigious Special Forces program in all of Alliance space, sir."
Anderson, not missing a single, fast step of his long stride, cast a sideways glance in her direction. "A program you yourself belong to, Commander." He glanced up, nodding at a passing member of the stations crew. "Then again, we were selecting from among the best of the best, so I guess the N7 designation was a prerequisite."
"Selecting for what, sir?" Shepard asked with an arched eyebrow as she did her best to keep up with the speed-walking Captain. "I wasn't exactly briefed on any of this, sir."
Anderson grunted again, this time with the slight tick of a frown. "That sounds about right." He made a sharp left, bringing the two of them into another large room that acted as a major intersection within the station. "I'll explain everything once we're aboard, Commander – we don't have a lot of time before the Normandy leaves dock."
"Yes, sir," Shepard acknowledged, and the two fell into a silent march. It was clear now they were heading towards a section of larger hangers; given that Alliance frigates were named after famous Earth battles, Shepard concluded that the Normandy had to be a frigate of some sort. She still couldn't understand why Anderson would be commanding a frigate, or why such a ship would be posted deep in human territory.
'Not to mention why I'd be hand-picked to serve on a frigate,' she nearly thought aloud.
It only took a couple more minutes before they reached the sliding doors of a short hallway, which lead into another hanger bay. Flanking both sides of the doors were armed guards, wearing a 'medium' set of Alliance-standard powered battle armor and wielding M7A2 assault rifles. They saluted the Captain, who'd yet to slow down; he simply looked the two over as he approached, acknowledged them with "Gentlemen," and stepped through the opening doors without hesitation. Shepard followed quickly behind, the guards casting slightly suspicious glances her way.
They arrived at the top floor of the docking area, where crew members used sectional docking arms to reach their ship. Here, the normally-clear synthetic plating that would give said crew a view of the docked ships wasn't present, replaced instead with more metal panels. Anderson slowed, and motioned to a nearby man checking bags on a large cart. "Leave your effects with the crewman here, and meet me in Arm 1." With that, he marched onward, leaving Shepard to spend the next minute checking in her two bags to be placed aboard the Normandy.
She made her way down the docking arm, and nodded to Anderson as she neared its end; just beyond its tip was obviously the beginning of the airlock for the Normandy herself, as the arm seemed to end by snugly nestling into the recess of the airlock. Anderson stepped through just ahead of Shepard, and the two waited as the dull, automated voice of the ships VI calmly let them know they were in the decontamination process. After a few moments passed, the circular orange hologram hovering over the center of the airlock spun a full revolution and turned green, and the airlock opened as the VI logged Captain Anderson's arrival aboard the ship.
The interior of the ship was clean and clearly lit; clear white lighting bounced off of gunmetal gray and black plating, while the slight hum of holographic displays and other machinery permeated the air. Anderson stepped forward and leaned to his right, looking at whoever was inside. "Mr. Moreau, what's our ETD?"
As Shepard stepped properly into the Normandy behind him, a light male voice spoke up. "Two minutes, Captain."
Anderson nodded, then turned to his right and marched off, leaving Shepard to seemingly fend for herself. She looked to her left and was puzzled by what appeared to be a piloting station flanked by two navigational stations; the only one chaired was the pilots, and he swiped and poked at the screens with a careful precision. Shepard realized then that her optic implants hadn't received the updated security clearances yet, so the screens hovering over the stations seemed to display simple splotches of orange.
Shepard shook her head as she wondered who'd designed this frigate; all Alliance vessels had the CIC stations within walking distance of each other in order to facilitate quick communications, and this was quite the departure from that doctrine. She turn around and found herself questioning the design choices even more; just beyond her current position in front of the airlock, eight seated stations flanked both sides of a paneled walkway leading into the 'proper' CIC area.
The walkway curved into a wider and wider path until it spit in two at the main section of consoles, which formed a chevron-shape in front of a raised platform from behind. A large holographic display was seated in the middle of the chevron, meaning that the platform stood well enough above it to observe anything it showed. Meanwhile, the paths led to two automatic doors, each guarded by Alliance soldiers dressed similarly to those she'd seen earlier. It also appeared as if there was an alcove beyond the wall behind the CIC stations, though she obviously couldn't tell what lay beyond it.
Shepard hadn't been able to see the exterior of the Normandy while her and Anderson had made their way to her, so the holographic display in the middle of the CIC caught her attention: there, in its passive mode, it displayed the ship as it looked to outsiders, complete with various bits of information floating around her.
The ship itself, according to the hologram, was sleek in design; the main section was lean, with the cockpit towards the very front of the vessel. The only notable thing that graced her otherwise sleek dorsal side was a small, nondescript tower that stuck out towards the back. Normandy's ventral section was rather large, possibly because of the cargo bay and enlarged Engineering section. Her two main engines were nearly as long as her, and were situated on a pylon that stuck out just barely to the aft and port of the ship. Two secondary engines jutted out via their own independent, mechanized arms, which currently placed the secondary engines under and behind the mains.
Shepard quietly mused to herself that the ship was currently in a docking state, though she had no real idea how the secondary engine arms were situated during actual flight. As she pondered the other details of the ship, she was oblivious to the pilots shift in attention towards her. "Hell of a ship, Commander," the voice from earlier said from behind her. She turned around again, and saw him looking over his shoulder towards her, his char turned slightly to the right. "Good to know the Captain only picks the best for her crew."
She eyed the redheaded pilot, not sure of the scruff on his face was from the lack of shaving, or just her imagination. "Thanks, Flight Lieutenant. I'd agree that she's a hell of a ship..." She glanced back towards the CIC. "...if she didn't seem like a hell of a confusing one."
"Pfft, she'll grow on you once you give her the chance," he said dismissively before adding, "which we'll get to in about a minute, ma'am." He turned his attentions, and his chair, back to his station. "We're not exactly public with the Normandy yet, so we've got to launch during a small window of opportunity, so if you'll excuse me, you might want to prep yourself."
Shepard thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Very well, Mr. Moreau," she said simply, and then made her way towards the main CIC stations. As the ships VI calmly sounded the one-minute launch warning, several crew members filed out from either of the automatic doors and took their stations; three joined her at the CIC stations, five took seats at the stations lining the ship's 'neck' that flanked the walkway. She moved herself to the back of the CIC, keeping herself quite out of the way of the actual working crew.
"Chief Navigator to Engineering, how are we looking down there?" a short man with a gray, balding head said from his standing CIC station. Shepard saw on his uniform that his name was "Pressly".
"This is Chief Engineer Adams here; all systems green down here. ShockPoint Drive is prepping for engagement now."
"Understood, Engineering," Navigator Pressly acknowledged. He tapped his display a few more times, and then turned slightly towards the ships fore. "Navigation to Helm, do you copy all systems green?"
"Copy all systems green, Navigation. Fifteen seconds until launch window opens," Lieutenant Moreau replied.
The Chief Navigator simply nodded as he left his station, and made his way around to the raised platform above the CIC stations. The holo-projector switched to another display, initially showing the entire known galaxy. However, within moments it had quickly zoomed in, first on a particular arm, then a particular section of that arm; eventually, it ended up with a selection of systems from their current system, all the way to the Sol system. A straight, green line connected the two, an obvious indication of a laid-in course.
Shepard let her mind wander for a moment as the pilot and the navigator rattled of, and confirmed, a dozen numbers that meant more to them than she could even guess. She scratched her head thoughtlessly, still feeling rather out of place, but was interrupted by the Jokers countdown to launch. As he began from ten, she noticed Captain Anderson out of the corner of her eye; he'd apparently been in the lower decks, as she heard the automatic door shut behind him as he returned to the CIC.
"Bay doors open in four...three...two...one..." Lieutenant Moreau's voice fell quite as the bay doors began to slide open, and the Normandy gracefully slid from her confines towards the opening of space and beyond.
"We are clear of bay doors, Navigation; setting course now."
"Understood, Helm," Pressly intoned as he glanced down, reading the instruments from his position. "Engineering, what's our ShockPoint Drive status?"
"Eezo core ready for shock stream, Navigation," an ensign in Engineering replied.
"Helm to Navigation, stealth FTL window closing in ten seconds; engaging ShockPoint in four...three...two...one..."
Another small silence fell as the ship seemed to lurch slightly, and Shepard noticed that everyone held their breath for a moment before their successful launch sunk in. However, just as the tension had come, it had passed, and a few slight smiles danced across the faces the CIC crew.
"Impressive launch, everyone," Captain Anderson said in a loud voice, clearly happy things went as smoothly as possible.
Navigator Pressly looked up from his position and beamed solemn respect towards the Captain. "Indeed, sir. Our ETA to the Charon Relay is about and hour; ShockPoint charge reports indicated we'll only be around 8% maximum safe charge by that point."
The Captain nodded, impressed. "Good, good. I suppose the Turians know how to build something decent, when given the proper materials and schematics." He chuckled, obviously joking.
Shepard was curious as to how they were going to reach the Earth system so quickly, but Pressly, however, interrupted her thoughts; he didn't seem to be included in on Andersons joke, intentionally or otherwise. "Sorry, sir, but I have to disagree..."
Anderson gave a small sigh, preparing to go into a small lecture; unfortunately for him and Pressly both, another voice intervened. "Considering how long it took humanity to reach out towards the stars, and how quickly your colony on Shanxi was occupied by the Hierarchy," the voice said with a noise not unlike a reptilian growl underlying every word, "I believe your Navigator is under-appreciating the Turian military force."
All three turned to look at the source of the voice, with Anderson and Pressly in mild and acute irritation, respectively, while Shepard was in complete surprise. To their right stood a bony figure, with an appearance that Pressly would've considered "and ugly baby of a dinosaur and a bird". He was wearing a black suit of Powered armor that was no doubt provided by the Citadel Council, which was accented by red lighting and stripes. Though his leather skin was gray, his face was painted a hard, cold black, with simple, yet elegant white stripes decorating the numerous chunks of facial plating on his face.
What stuck out the most, for Shepard anyway, were the eyes: the Turian who stood there, intentionally oblivious to the leering his presence on the CIC was producing, had eyes as green as a meadow. Beyond the color, however, the Turians eyes were anything but as soft as the meadow.
"Still," he said, "events like the Battle of Shanxi are things I try to prevent, not produce." After another brief moment, he glanced over towards the Commander and seemingly snapped himself out of the confrontational situation. "Ah, good to finally meet you, Commander Shepard," he said simply as he walked over towards her. After an uncomfortable moment, he stuck his hand out in an attempt to receive a proper, human handshake.
Shepard took it, though with some caution. "I'm sorry; I wasn't expecting to see a Turian on board an Alliance frigate." She let her hand drop from his as she realized he was only a slight bit taller than her. "Who're you?"
The Turians jaw plating twitched outward for just a moment, a sign of slight irritation that most would miss. "I forget how much the Alliance in general prefers to keep its best and brightest as...ignorant of their situation as possible." He cast a sideways glance towards Anderson, who only responded with a stiff look of his own. "I am Nihlus Kryik, Commander Shepard, and as a Spectre, I'm here to represent the interests of both the Turian Hierarchy and the Citadel Council."
It was in that moment that Commander Shepard knew there was more to the situation than she could've ever guessed.
