One
"The Hand of God."
It had been six years since the thresher maw assault that killed an entire unit, leaving just her, Lucy Shepard, as the sole survivor. An event that shaped her entire military career with the Alliance, she was renown for an unorthodox approach to operations, often exceeding necessary perimeters to achieve a substantial goal. Most high ranking officers found her snarky and undeservingly arrogant, but when assigned to a mission, she succeeded where most others would falter.
She found it just the slightest bit entertaining, given she joined the Systems Alliance Military to escape a life of poverty and despair. Growing up on Earth, Lucy yearned for opportunity and growth, but when neglected by family, abandoned really, she discovered she had nowhere to go.
Volunteering for the Akuze assignment, she was expecting a general patrol, with little to no results. Instead she was faced with overwhelming obstacles and with an unbreakable survivalist instinct, she clawed her way out the terrors of the night, and came out the better for it. Now she heard Akuze had flourished into a lucrative colony bustling with commerce and activity. The settlers had even built a memorial in place for all of those that died in service to humanity's expansion.
Graduating from N7, an elite, special forces marine program, of which seven is the highest proficiency, Lucy is considered not just a top tier soldier, but she is also a lethal and dangerous biotic. Able to unleash singularities, a spherical mass effect field that creates a warp in the space-time continuum, producing a gravity well akin to a black hole, Shepard was more than a formidable opponent.
All of these accolades eventually put her in the crosshairs of a Captain David Anderson. He was assigned to some type of prototype ship, and the Captain sought Lucy as his Executive Officer, now just the mention of a prototype ship was enough to get Lucy at the docks and ready for launch, but she wasn't much interested in red tape and classified Council dealings. Eventually she caved, if only out of sheer curiosity.
And after nearly two weeks, the SSV Normandy SR-1-the first of its kind as a deep scout frigate, with state of the art stealth technology-was launched from Arcturus toward the awaiting depths of the galaxy. With three main decks, connected by an elevator nestled in the Combat Information Center, behind the Commanding Officer's station near the stern of the vessel. This itself was an odd setup, inspired by turian design no less.
Normally, Alliance ships stationed their CO in the midst of an Information Center to facilitate communication with subordinates. However on the Normandy, due to engineers wanting to observe how well it functioned among humans, the CO station was placed at the back of the CIC, elevated above the floor to appear like a podium, looking out at one's subordinates, rather than be surrounded by them.
In addition to that, behind the CIC, rested the comm room, used for both conferences among fellow shipmates, and as a direct link to the Council and Alliance brass. Finally, at the bow of the ship, Flight Lieutenant James "Joker" Moreau, pilot of the SR-1, called the bridge his home. All of this made up the Command Deck, or the third floor, as it were, inside the Normandy.
Lucy was strolling toward the bridge, looking for insight into their latest assignment. She passed the airlock tucked away just outside of the bridge as Joker finished his status update over the ship's comm.
"All systems online. Drift, just under fifteen-hundred K," Joker stated proudly, to the point that one could almost imagine a third arm reserved just for patting himself on the back.
"Fifteen-hundred is good," Nihlus Kryik complimented. "Your captain will be pleased."
Turning on his heel Nihlus observed Lucy and nodded only ever so slightly, dismissing Joker's evasiveness and not even noticing as the pilot rolled his eyes in disgust. She barely acknowledged the turian, if only because Shepard didn't like being pulled along on a leash, and she was certainly getting the vibe that this trip was more than some shakedown mission. They had a turian Spectre aboard, yes, the Normandy had been co-developed by the turian Hierarchy and Systems Alliance Military, with funding from the Citadel Council, but any of the Council's representatives could have tagged along for something so mundane.
This was not mundane.
"I hate that guy," Joker spat as he relaxed in his chair, supposedly the most comfortable seat the Alliance had to offer, but he would certainly know, as most of Joker's time was spent in this pilot seat, or his wheelchair.
"He compliments you, and you hate him," Kaidan Alenko noted dryly. "That makes sense."
"You remember to zip up your jumpsuit on the way out of the bathroom, that's good," Joker began his rant. "I just jumped us halfway across the galaxy and hit a target the size of a pinhead, that's incredible."
Adjusting the blue cap sitting on his head, covering his dark brown hair, Joker again turned his attention to his console, and continued. "Besides, these Spectres are trouble. I don't like having 'em on board. Call me paranoid."
"You're paranoid," Kaidan said upon instruction, smiling wryly. Patting Joker on his shoulder, Alenko escaped the bridge to stretch out his legs, he just wasn't use to the confinement.
Lucy simply shook her head and immediately changed the subject; "How are you holding up, Joker?"
Squinting his eyes, Joker cast an accusing glance at his XO, and then at Kaiden's fading silhouette, and back once more at Shepard. "What's that supposed to mean? Did-did Kaidan tell you about it, or was it the captain? Lemme know, I'm not some charity case. This ship couldn't be in more capable hands, I'm more than qualified."
Cocking an eyebrow, forcing her bangs to fall between her face, Lucy had no idea what Joker'a rambling was about, and any attempt to discern it would just be met with more frantic assumptions. This was just one of his moods, but now her curiosity was up.
"What's this all about?" she asked.
"What? Oh..." Joker trailed off, beginning to blush. "No one told you, then."
"Told me what?"
"I have Vrolik syndrome," he answered. "brittle bone disease. I was born with severe fractures to my legs, walking's so much of a bitch, most days I just prefer to use my wheelchair."
This finally solved what had bewildered Lucy since meeting the flight lieutenant. It had not been her business prior to investigate her shipmates, as long as they all performed their tasks she didn't consider their physical limits noteworthy for dissection.
"Make no mistake, I'm not good. I'm not even great. I'm the best damn helmsman in the Alliance fleet," Joker said confidently.
"You never mentioned it before," Lucy observed.
"I don't want to be treated like a charity case because of my disability," Joker answered. "I earned all of my accommodations, graduated top of my class. You can imagine who was in the back smiling as all these other douche bags got their asses kicked by a sick kid with the creaky legs; Me."
Smiling, Shepard nodded in acknowledgment. She always enjoyed Joker's forward, in your face attitude. He was forthright, and she respected that. They were interrupted when Anderson broke in on Joker's comm.
"What's the status report?" the Captain questioned.
"Just cleared the mass relay, Captain," Joker answered. "Stealth systems engaged, everything looks solid."
"Good, find a convoy and link us into the network," Anderson instructed. "I want mission reports relayed back to Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime."
"Aye, aye Captain," Joker said. "Oh, and you better brace yourself," he added as an afterthought. "I think Nihlus is headed your way."
"He's already here," Anderson snapped, his sneer felt through the comm. "Now tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for debriefing." The line went dead soon after.
Lucy gritted her teeth. "Great, you piss off the Captain and I have to deal with him." She performed a spin and started her way to the stern of the ship.
"Have fun," Joker muttered.
As Shepard passed the CIC, she overheard Navigator Pressly, whose responsibilities involved the galaxy map at the center of the room, arguing with an engineer over comm, no doubt down on the first deck, in the section containing the Normandy's drive core. It was pertaining to Nihlus and what seemed to be a grudging speciesism against the turian. Feelings left over from the First Contact War.
Closer now to the comm room, Robert Jenkins, who waved a happy hello to the Commander, was talking with Doctor Chakwas while leaning on a lone wall that separated CIC from the entrance to Lucy's destination. He was going on, quite ecstatically, about Nihlus.
The Commander returned the wave with a nod of acknowledgement and continued on. When the heavy plated door slid open, she was surprised to see only Nihlus waiting for her. She started down a walkway a few meters in length, that eventually led to an oval, open space with eight chairs, split by four on each side of the room. Nihlus stood stiffly in the middle, looking at a large viewing screen directly opposite of the door Lucy entered from. It was projecting images of Eden Prime.
"Commander Shepard," Nihlus said, turning to give his full attention to the young human. "I was hoping we would have time to talk." He crossed his armor clad arms, shifting his weight to his left leg. Lucy suspected he was inspecting her, and that was annoying.
"What about?" she asked quickly, narrowing her eyes. She was sick of flying blind, maybe she could get a straight answer from the Spectre.
"I'm interested in this Eden Prime, I've heard it's quite beautiful."
He was making small talk, this was not what Lucy was aiming for. "I wouldn't know. Never been there myself."
"But it has become something of a symbol for your people," Nihlus noted. "Proof that humanity could not only build colonies across the galaxy, but also protect them."
Now it was Lucy's turn to cross her arms, adding a heavy sigh for punctuation. "But how safe are they really?" Nihlus asked, again deciding to face the images dancing across the screen.
"Would you like to see firsthand?" Lucy asked.
"I am merely here to assess only one of the Alliance's capabilities," Nihlus stated. "But are they truly ready?"
Lucy was prepared to give him an earful, verbal sparring matches did little to entertain her long periods of time, she was being baited and didn't appreciate it. As she started to lean closer to the Spectre for impact, she heard the whizzing of the door open.
"I think it's time we informed the Commander about what's really going on," Captain Anderson suggested.
"Of course," the Spectre agreed, then giving his attention to Shepard. "This isn't a shakedown."
"Obviously, and it's about damn time I know what's going on," she focused the last part toward Anderson. "I don't like being kept in the dark."
"It was a necessary precaution under these circumstances," Anderson explained.
"So what is this, then?" Lucy asked.
"We're performing a covert pick up on Eden Prime, valuable cargo," Anderson revealed. "That's why we needed the stealth systems operational."
So this was the reason she had been out of the loop, why the whole crew was on pins and needles. And so, then, what was the Spectres involvement? Just what were they picking up?
"There must've been more of a reason than that to leave me out," Lucy observed.
"This comes down from the top, Shepard. Intel on a need to know basis," Anderson answered, casually strolling next to Nihlus to catch a glimpse of Eden Prime. "An excavation team on Eden Prime unearthed some kind of Prothean beacon."
Now she was getting to the bottom of this operation, the meat of all this secrecy. The Citadel, the mass relays, all of this came from the Protheans, their legacy lived on in nearly every species of the galaxy. This was curious, entertaining what this might mean, not just for the greater galactic community, but for humanity. A find like this could change everything.
"This is big, Shepard," Anderson said, almost confirming her thoughts. "Last time humanity made a discovery like this, it jumped our technology forward two hundred years."
Obviously Eden Prime would not have the facilities necessary to study and gain any useful insight from this beacon, so they were transferring it, but to where?
"This where Nihlus and the Council come in?" Lucy raised her suspicions.
"Not exactly," the Spectre said.
"We need their scientific expertise, they simply know more about the Protheans than we do," Anderson continued. "and sharing this discovery with the Council will improve our relations."
Along with that humanity was still recognized for their reputation, spreading too fast, too unpredictable, she heard the arguments all before. Whether they were validated was not the point, but she still understood what was being offered.
"None of this is why I am here, though," Nihlus stated, but that revelation did not come as a shock.
"He's here to evaluate you, Shepard," Anderson added.
Her expression clearly dismissed this as some kind of mistake. "What's going on, Captain?"
"The Alliance has been pushing for this for a long time, Commander," Anderson told her. "Humanity wants a larger role in shaping interstellar policy. We want more say with the Council."
Spectres represented the Council's power and authority, to be inducted as one, to be the first human Spectre, the Alliance's role in galactic politics would be completely reshaped.
"You single handedly survived an assault from three thresher maws, while everyone around you died," Nihlus summarized her career. "You've shown incredible instincts and situational awareness."
"This is all why I put your name forward as a candidate for the Spectres," Nihlus finished.
Not all of this was adding up, there was an unsung tension between turians and humans ever since an all out war was just narrowly avoided. "So why would a turian suggest a human for the Spectres?" Lucy wondered.
"Not all of us resent humanity. We see your potential, what you have to offer the rest of the galaxy," Nihlus started. "Spectres are an elite group, it's rare to find an individual with the skills necessary to join our ranks."
It was simply that Nihlus didn't care Lucy was a human, just that she could do her job, and if push came to shove, she was more than ready. Shepard respected that. Her tension lightened when she realized what was playing out around her. She could potentially represent something more for humanity, this was more than an opportunity, it was a challenge she would throw herself into.
"So, then, what is it I have to do?" Lucy asked.
"I'll be accompanying you across several missions, Eden Prime is simply the first in a number of operations I'll observe you in," Nihlus revealed.
"You will be leading the ground team," Anderson ordered Lucy. "Get that beacon back to the Normandy ASAP."
"When we-" Nihlus started to say, but was interrupted by Joker popping in over comm.
"Captain, we've got a problem."
"What is it, Joker?" Anderson asked urgently. This should have been a smooth operation, no one knew about the beacon outside of the Council and a number of Alliance brass.
"Transmission from Eden Prime, sir," Joker said anxiously. "You better see this."
"Bring it up on screen, now," Anderson said quickly, pushing closer to the television as if it would give some sort of comfort. But the video offered nothing near security.
Between the choppy static, a massive firefight was ensuing on the grounds of Eden Prime, near what appeared to be a dig site, possibly the dig site that held the beacon. A man in green armor was trying to calm the shaking vid, but several shots into his abdomen and he dropped dead, the vid rolling along the debris filled wastes of conflict.
There was far too much dust and chaos to make out the enemies, and the gunfire blared out nearly all the soldier's pleas for aid and ammo. One, a woman clad in white armor, kinetic shields bursting from rapid gunfire, shouted "Get down," but it seemed to be to no avail as, an instant later, a massive explosion rocked the vicinity, sending troops flying, limbs splattering along the terrain.
"We are taking heavy casualties!" the woman yelled. "Repeat, we are under attack and taking heavy casualties!"
She picked up the vid hoping to secure and make certain she was being heard, and that was when a strange, ominous hum broke out along the battlefield, shadowing all the noise and frantic responses from battle. The woman's jaw dropped, as did nearly every Alliance soldier she managed to inadvertently catch on camera, their faces frozen in disbelief, as if their very souls had been sucked from their bodies.
When the vid finally focused, the woman aimed the camera up toward the sky, where billowing black smoke, filled with red streaks of lightning, brought only silence. From the black sky, five long tendrils stretched forth, like the hand of God coming down to smite his foes. It was illuminated by a stark red glow, and only inched its way closer, it appeared to be attempting to grasp at the world beneath it. To lift up the soldiers that fought valiantly and crush them in its palm.
And then the vid cut off.
"It's only static now, sir," Joker said. "All comm traffic has went dead."
"Reverse and hold at thirty-eight point five," Anderson commanded.
Joker complied, the frame stopped at the black hand-like object in the sky. It was wickedly clear now, if anyone in the room assumed their eyes were playing tricks on them, there was no escaping the harsh reality of the haunting image.
"Status report," Anderson demanded.
"Seventeen minutes out, Captain," Joker said somberly. "No other Alliance ships in the area."
Anderson glanced around the room, and finally gave his orders; "Take us in Joker, fast and quiet. This just got a lot more complicated."
"I'll assemble the ground team," Shepard stated, her eyes still fixated on the hand from the sky. It was so silent, but deafening at the same time. Like something out of a dream.