Chapter 1

Arcturus Prime, head of the Systems Alliance, and Command station of the Alliance navy.

Jonathan Shepard stepped off the transport cruiser into the entryway. He was in civvies, though his armor, weapons and several belongings were in a bag on his back. The entry room was large, open. There were a few rows of seats, like airports back on earth. Military headquarters or no, most of the Arcturus population was civilians, and since he wasn't due back in uniform for another sixteen hours, Shepard had taken a civilian shuttle here from leave back home. He was to report to the barracks on the upper floors this evening, or whatever served for it here. Clocks on Arcturus ran on earth time, but the station's rather quick rotation period meant that the natural day-night cycle took about ten hours.

Shepard took a ramp up to the next floor, following it up again to a third, then fourth floor. Five floors up he stopped, crossing an entry room identical to the one he'd landed in. Everywhere he walked there were crowds. Civilians, going to and from the transports, meeting family stepping off, saying goodbye to friends stepping on. They were everywhere, a wall of people with no clue the kind of dangers the galaxy held for those brave enough to face them. Some days Shepard pitied them, some days they were subject to his envy.

Soldiers were also ever present, mostly just standing guard, an avenger or a vindicator in hand. Sometimes they'd mix it up with a Katana or Scimitar shotgun, others a Tempest Smg. Shepard recognized every weapon they carried. He'd trained with most of them, if only in passing. Always good to know what an enemy's, or a friend's, gun could or couldn't do.

The room Shepard entered was at the edge of the primary garrison on the station, it was a greeting room area with a row of desks that visitors and soldiers could use to talk to representatives. Shepard waved one down to give her his name and ID. She admitted him almost immediately through a single doorway on the far end of the room into the Barracks.

Shepard strode through the hallways, either side marked regularly with quarters. This area held open rooms, for off-duty hours. Elsewhere there were the sleeper pods, for each soldier's self-adjusted night. Shepard kept walking until he reached a door who's electronic display showed his ID numbers among the others, the digits engraved on every piece of his armor, his weapons and his dog tags.

The quarters were military sparse, set for three people to use at a time, with space for nine soldiers' possessions and gear. Four other men were in the room, which was irregular considering only three people of the nine who used this room should technically be off-duty at once. Three of them sat at the table in the center, playing cards. Shepard glanced at one, a large, burly Latino man with a row of thin, ellipsis-shaped tattoos down the back of his neck. He held two cards in his hand. Texas Hold 'em then probably.

The fourth man was older, late forties it looked, he stood in the back of the room, leaning against a wall and staring into a datapad. It was the captain's uniform that drew Shepard's attention first, and then he recognized the man. Walking over to him so as not to disturb the poker game, Shepard clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Anderson." He said fondly.

"John," Anderson started, looking up suddenly from his data pad. A friendly expression across his features. "Good, you're here early. I wanted to talk before we boarded."

Shepard paused slightly "Before we boarded" he repeated quizzically. "You mean I'm going to be under your command?" That would be the only way Anderson would know Shepard's schedule without someone else telling him. Granted, either scenario was completely possible given that it was David Anderson he was talking to. If Anderson wanted information on someone in the alliance, he got, no questions asked. Having about three times the number of medals you could fit on a uniform had that effect on people.

"Yes, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I requested you to lead the ground teams on the Normandy, Wanted someone with your skills aboard." Anderson confirmed, "These three marines before you are going to be your squad." He gestured to the poker table. The big Latino seemed to be fuming as one of the other two, a dark-haired man with a wry smile, and two queens, swept toward himself a small pile of a dozen credit chits.

Shepard paused as the game unfolded, and the third marine, a young man with dirty blonde hair was dealing this round. He shuffled carefully, dealing one card at a time around the table before he set three cards out before the deck.

"Normandy, that's the prototype stealth ship isn't it?

Anderson gave a nod beside him, "Designed with the help of a Batarian shipwright, but also made using some Turian design features for…" Anderson gave a shrug. "Who knows why? Maybe they're just testing how they well work."

Shepard nodded. The greatest strengths you got were usually stolen from the enemy at some point. He was glad that it wasn't just Special Forces who understood that. "There's a lot that can be gained from watching your enemies, they're often as useful as they are dangerous."

"Yeah, but on the Normandy, all I see different is that the CIC is on the wrong end of the ship. But I'm not here to chat about the Normandy, it's about her crew." Anderson stood up from the wall, turning to face Shepard directly. "Because it's a joint project, half the crew is going to be Batarian. I'm in charge, but the crew is split about fifty-fifty between Alliance and Hegemony staff. There are going to be two ground teams as well, one will be yours and the other answers to Balak, a commander from the Hegemony."

"Not a problem, I play well with others."

Anderson grinned "I know, but you do need to be warned, there will be members of the crew who aren't fond of humans, and there will probably be Alliance crew who don't like Batarians."

Shepard nodded. His job was to lead; this wasn't exactly outside his skill set. He could deal with it. "And my team?" he gestured to the poker table. The dark haired marine was putting down a decent-sized bet. He wasn't a big guy, but he looked strong, fit. Looked like the type who focused on skills with an omni-tool or a sniper rifle to Shepard. Or both.

"What about them? They all tested well, Jenkins is M5, Vega and Alenko are both M6s. I'm actually surprised I got you this good a squad."

"Better get started then, wouldn't want to waste your hard work getting exactly who you requested." Shepard replied, walking over to the table as the dark haired soldier won another round with a bluff. He used bag as a makeshift stool. "Deal me in." he said calmly, waving inward with two fingers.

The big Tattooed man paused; he cards in his hand mid-shuffle. "Aaa, Sir?" he said quizzically, unsure of what to do.

"Don't stop, I want to play a few rounds before my shift starts." Shepard said with a disarming smile. "Oh, names. Commander Jonathan Shepard."

The dirty blonde was the first one to recover after a moment's silence. "Corporal Richard Jenkins sir." He stared at Shepard for a moment before his face lit up in realization "You were the one who won the Blitz! You're the same Shepard that fought off the raiders on Elysium aren't you?" he asked excitedly.

"That I am" answered Shepard, somewhat embarrassed. He still wasn't used to finding people like Jenkins, so enamored of what he'd done on Elysium. Shepard wondered sometimes what they'd think if they knew what was really going through his head that day.

It was the dark haired marine across the table who found his voice next. "I'm Staff Lieutenant Alenko Commander, it's an honor to meet you sir."

Shepard still smiled slightly as he replied "Don't go talking about honors with me Alenko, all I did was shoot people, and I'd been doing it for quite awhile before that without anyone thinking I deserved a medal for it."

Alenko chuckled at that. Jenkins seemed to still be excited when the third marine spoke up. "2nd Lieutenant James Vega, at your service Commander."

"A pleasure to meet all three of you" responded Shepard. Fraternization step 1: check. Now for the poker. "You dealing or what Vega? Let's get started."