Lizzie stared at the ship in front of her. She had seen hundreds of ships, big, small, old, new, hell, she had practically grown up on ships. None were as beautiful as the ship she was looking at.
The Normandy's lines were clearly based on Atavira ship design yet the vessel's contours were smoother, sleeker and just more pleasing to the eye than any other Atavira vessel. Her hull was jet black and tiled with a hexagonal pattern that told her the vessel was equipped with an advanced stealth shroud. The phased proton thrusters gave off a faint mauve glow as the HR motors slowly rotated in their housings. She was mesmerised.
Saren chuckled as he watched Lizzie, Garrus and Nari stare in dumb amazement.
"Would you like to come aboard?"
The interior was just as sleek as the exterior. Looking round, Lizzie saw that the crew was mixed Human, Turian and Atavira. Where the exterior was distinctly Atavira, the interior of the CIC had a Turian feel to it, the centre of the wide curving room dominated by the captain's pedestal and the galaxy map. Saren led the way into the ship, speaking as he went.
"Welcome to the AMRF Normandy, flagship of the Evolution project, a joint project between the Hierarchy, the USA and Emaris to produce a new generation of fighting equipment. Everything on this vessel is cutting edge, from the weapons to the shields to the engines. And we get to take her on her maiden voyage."
Saren led them into the briefing room. Inside the room were seated eight individuals, each one looking up as the remainder of the team entered and took their seats. Lizzie nodded at Ash and Kaidan as Saren took position at the head of the table.
"Thank you all for coming. As all of you are probably aware, my name is Saren Arterius, Council Spectre. This is Commander David Anderson of the US SEALs and Priestess Mauri Auhelu of the Emaris Commandoes."
He paused for a moment, gesturing to Nari, who chose that moment to slurp her milkshake and look around nervously.
"Thanks to this child, we have identified a high profile Asari Matriarch named Benezia T'Soni as being linked to the Collector commander, referred to only as Nazara. It is this ship's, and this team's, mission to hunt down Benezia and through doing so, identify and neutralise Nazara. We also have a team of the most intelligent and talented scientists and engineers in the galaxy aboard, who will work to reverse engineer any Collector technology we recover into something we can use against the enemy. Our first destination is Grissom Academy. A couple of students have developed a signal jamming algorithm that could be adapted to counteract Collector communications."
He paused for a moment and met the eye of each person sitting around the conference table.
"Our actions will have considerable influence on the future of this galaxy. I hope you all bear that in mind as we proceed. Dismissed."
The ground team filed out of the briefing room, four Humans, four Turians and four Atavira along with a small Batarian child. Garrus plucked Nari off his shoulders and set her on the ground.
"I'll get our stuff set up in the officer's cabins. Go explore the ship."
Briefly patting him on the shoulder, Lizzie made her way forward to the cockpit. In the pilot's chair was an Atavira, her hands playing over the consoles with the flair of a concert pianist. The woman seemed to be wearing armour gauntlets - no, she corrected herself, that was the natural bone plating of the Auwl subspecies. She immediately felt her estimation of the pilot pre-emptively drop; Auwl were reputed to be violent, lazy and untrustworthy, and the few of them she had met certainly didn't do anything to dispel the stereotype.
The pilot turned round and Lizzie was surprised to observe the heavier features and the lack of breasts. A male? Usually male Atavira didn't do anything save be fawned over and impregnate various members of their extensive harems.
"Lieutenant-Commander Shepard, huh? Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau, at your service."
Her curiosity getting the better of her, she sat down in the vacant navigator's seat.
"So what brings you to the Jokercave?"
"Jokercave?"
The pilot gestured to himself.
"People call me Joker way more often than they call me Jeff. Ergo, Jokercave."
She looked around the cockpit, rubbing the back of her neck.
"I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here."
"You want to know why I'm not up a mountain on Pau balls-deep in some female or other?"
Her quick glance away spectacularly failed to hide her blushing face.
"Um ... I was going to phrase it differently but yeah."
"I got a rare genetic condition called Vrolik's Syndrome, scuse me a second," he briefly rattled off a string of authentications into his comm console, "which basically means I got brittle bones. No female is going to touch an Auwl with brittle bone disease, that'd be embarrassing. Considering the main pastime of an Atavira guy was out, I sat in my room and studied until I had the grades for flight school."
The increasingly likeable man leaned back and chuckled.
"Makes for some interesting family reunions. I'm telling stories about crazy stunts and blown out G-capacitors to my three pilot sisters while across at the stud table all my dad and brother talk about is chafing."
Lizzie chuckled as Joker swiped his hands over the consoles, deftly pulling the Normandy out of its docking berth.
"Jeff Moreau isn't a very Pautu name."
"It's not my birth name. I had it changed when I enlisted in the US Navy. The original has more vowels than the Krogan nation has testicles, even my dad can't pronounce it."
"And Joker?"
"A gift from a flight school instructor. In the sims I was all business, never cracked a joke. 100% professional, and let me tell you, keeping that up for four years was a bitch. The name was ironic." He snickered and waved a hand over his head. "Of course, then I graduated with the highest overall score since the founding of the academy, and guess who was laughing then."
There was a lull in the conversation as Joker steered the frigate round a blundering Volus freighter, filling the air with a stream of guttural curses in Kresh, the main Krogan dialect. Once the errant Volus were safely astern Lizzie asked another question.
"So, how'd you get your hands on the Normandy?"
"I stole her."
Lizzie executed a double take worthy of the Three Stooges.
"Come again?"
He affectionately stroked the ship's console.
"When I saw this baby it was love at first sight, I'm telling you. Despite me being the highest scoring pilot graduate since the Seu'Seun War they had me making shuttle runs in and out of Arcturus Station, because who'd want a crippled Auwl behind the helm of anything important? Long story short, I snuck aboard, took the helm and put her through the trial course in record time while dodging the interceptors sent to bring us back in. Of course as soon as I docked I was arrested, but even if I had been headed straight to prison for the rest of my life it was worth it just for twenty minutes behind this beauty's helm."
Lizzie found herself sitting forward, gripped by the story.
"So what happened next?"
"EDI stepped in."
"EDI?"
A hologram of an eyes out on stalks beautiful brunette in an immaculate flight officer's uniform appeared behind Joker's chair, making Lizzie jump.
"Greetings, Elizabeth. I am EDI, the Normandy's resident AI."
Joker nodded at the hologram.
"That's EDI. She took responsibility for the whole thing. Got referred to an AI justice tribunal but Alan overturned the whole thing on the basis of DOS."
Lizzie scratched her nose.
"DOS?"
The pilot airily waved a hand.
"Demonstration of Organic Stupidity. So anyway, EDI and Alan pulled some strings and here I am."
There was a slight pause.
"I guess if it had been my dad pulling strings or something I wouldn't have taken it, but AIs don't play favourites. If they want me to helm the Normandy it means I'm the best."
There was another pause in the conversation as Joker pointed the ship's nose out into the nebula.
"EDI, spin up the HR motors."
Lizzie held up a hand.
"Wait, we're going the whole way on HR motors?"
Joker patted the console again.
"Yep. This baby's got some of the most powerful out there. If you average it out, we can approximate the same speed with a long range HR burn that we can using the relays and insystem transits. Plug in the co-ords for Grissom Academy and punch it."
EDI's smooth, silky voice replied after a moment.
"Consider it punched, Jeff. Initiating jump. ETA to Grissom Academy is eight hours."
The nebula leaped away, replaced with the eerie purple light of HR transits. Lizzie stood and stretched, turning towards the CIC.
"Nice talking with you, Joker."
"See ya, LC."
Walking out of the cockpit, she decided to head down to the armoury to check out the new toys she had been promised. Taking the elevator down to the lowest deck, she had a little look round. The elevator came out in the shuttle bay, two corridors extending back either side of the elevator leading to the lab. To the sides of the shuttle bay were a series of armour lockers and weapon benches. She counted twelve stations, each one labelled with the name of a member of the ground team. She was heading toward her station when she heard someone call across the bay.
"Scuse me!"
She glanced across to see a Hispanic looking man waving at her.
"You need to head into the lab to select your weapons."
Nodding at the man - Lt. Cortez, she read off his uniform - she headed into the laboratory.
The lab was half again as large as the shuttle bay, containing six lab-coated individuals that seemed evenly split between Human, Atavira and Turian. One of them, a Turian female, waved her over.
"Lieutanant-Commander Shepard, E."
"That's me."
She idly noticed that the Turian, under her labcoat, was wearing a black jumper with a faint grey Human skull on the chest and the word 'Evolution' emblazoned in white across it.
"Welcome to Evolution, Shepard."
"Evolution?"
"The next step in the evolution of warfare as we know it. It's our brand name."
Sighing, the Turian gestured around the lab.
"Some dumbass Human decided we needed a cool name and logo for our clandestine project."
"Hence the skull?"
"Hence the skull. Guns and armour?"
"Yes please."
The scientist spoke over her shoulder to Lizzie as she led the SEAL to an armour fitting facility.
"What we've got here is the first iteration of armour produced by the project. In its overall performance it's not much of an improvement over most high end armour sets already on the market but the main advantage comes when you start using biotics. We took the phasing apparatus out of a phased proton shield and applied it to a personal K-barrier. By phasing the eezo in the shield generators we've developed a personal shield that can be used without interfering with the user's biotic abilities. That means that in combat you don't have to worry about maintaining a biotic barrier in combat, which should mean you have more energy to put into your offensive biotics."
Lizzie was impressed. Tech shields that didn't mess with biotic focus had previously been thought impossible. The unconscious habit of forming a biotic barrier would be difficult to break but the combat advantage would be a game-changer for biotic users.
"So what amp circuits do you want?"
"You guys are using amp circuits?"
She was genuinely surprised. The Turian Cabals were unwilling to switch to the Earth style amp circuits for specific biotic talents, instead preferring the Asari style general amps.
"Of course. The Cabals might squawk about how specific amp circuits limit their troop's versatility but only the most advanced Asari matriarchs use more than four or five well developed biotic skills anyway and the power increase from using amp circuits is a major advantage. So what'll you have?"
She rattled off the list she had committed to memory for the last seven years.
"Lash, Reave, Throw, Annihilation Field and Mak-Chan."
The scientist tapped a console and moments later a locker opened across from her, displaying a jet black set of armour. Lizzie took the opportunity to look impressed.
The armour looked good. Scratch that, it looked sexy. The undersuit, instead of a cross-meshed fibre layer, was composed of a deep black material with a texture reminiscent of Geth synth-muscle, the matte-black plating sitting snugly against it. The main plates were all there and recognisable - boots, greaves, chestplate, backplate, gauntlets, vambraces and pauldrons - but where more conventional armour had vulnerabilities in the joints, the armour before her had smaller interlocking plates covering them. The whole set reminded her vaguely of a very advanced set of Samurai armour.
"And here it is, the Evolution body armour. Want to give it a spin?"
The underlayer went on like a baggy set of overalls. Once it was secure over the thin, skintight sports bra and shorts that was all the clothing she wore under her armour's underlayer, the Turian tapped her Omnitool and the undersuit constricted, seamlessly forming itself to her body shape. The plating fitted on like any other armour set, the smaller interlocking plates folding into the larger components then extending out when they locked in. Finally she had everything she needed save a helmet. Almost as if she read Lizzie's mind, the Turian scientist held out a helmet.
Taking the helmet, Lizzie almost dropped it in surprise. Staring back at her from within the black smoky full face visor was the faint grey outline of the Evolution skull.
"Um ... What?"
"Ah, so you've met Yorick."
"I'm sorry?"
The scientist reached over and tapped the visor.
"The Evolution project mascot. The visor doubles as a screen that projects Yorick to make him look like he's actually inside the helmet. It's supposed to be psychological. Not sure how effective it will be against Collectors, but hey. Looks cool, right?"
"Right."
She fitted the helmet over her head, feeling a slight crawling sensation as the interlocking ceramic plates extended over her neck. There was a moment of blackness, then the HUD lit up, displaying her surroundings. Unlike most helmets she wore, there was no narrowing of her vision, instead her peripherals being if anything better than they were without the helmet. She turned to the Turian, who subconsciously took a step back. When she spoke, her voice came out slightly distorted.
"So how do I look?"
There was a short pause as the Turian visibly gulped.
"Positively terrifying."
She experimentally shifted her torso.
"Is this the armour's neutral position?"
The scientist walked around her, assessing her stance.
"No, it's not. What you're wearing is the assault model. It's optimised for close range combat and is best suited to a high mobility fighting style. The armour is far more flexible than other models and naturally leans towards a forward stance for greater body support while sprinting. It's ... not a problem, is it?"
Experimentally leaning forwards, she felt her body naturally settle into a leaning stance as if mid-sprint.
"If it's an issue, we also have support, heavy and sniper models available."
She shook her head.
"This'll do nicely, I think."
The armour tech gratefully handed over to an Atavira, her diminutive stature marking her as a member of the Elloi subspecies.
"I assume you'll be wanting firepower."
She nodded, following the Atavira to a bench upon which rested a bewildering array of weapons.
"Welcome to the Bench of Death. When it comes to weapons, you name it, we've got it."
"Disciple shotgun."
The weapon tech tutted and shook her head.
"I said weapons, not party poppers. We've got all sorts here. Even a collection of Seu'Seun weapons although nobody on the ship is big enough to actually use them. Let's see ... Here we go. You are a SEAL adept specialising in close quarters combat, are you not?"
She nodded in the affirmative, eyes still roving over the plethora of firearms.
"Any preferences?"
She shrugged.
"I usually carry a Gast's, a TCN5 and either an SN7 or a Talon, but I'm willing to experiment."
The weapon tech nodded, thinking for a moment before handing her a weapon she hadn't seen before.
"Here's something you might like. This baby is the EBR-1, or 'Glaive' if you prefer. She's an advanced hybrid between the Gast's Rifle and the Turian Talamis-Asetan AAR, along with a healthy dose of Geth technology. Thirty percent lighter than a Gast despite being ten percent longer, the muzzle velocity of the Gast and the rate of fire of the Talamis, all wrapped up in a low density carbon foam shell with Yorick on the side. See?"
Lizzie resisted the urge to facepalm as she saw the now-ubitiquous grey skull on the side of the weapon. She had to admit, the rifle looked good. The basic shape was that of the Mattock, but the lines were far cleaner and somehow more organic looking, smooth curves where the Mattock had sharp corners. The shape really wasn't that different but the subtle changes conspired to make the sleek black rifle cradled in her hands one of the most beautiful killing implements she had ever seen.
"Wow. This is one sexy gun. I'll take it."
Quickly scanning over the controls, she collapsed the weapon and slung it on her right shoulder blade.
"So what's next?"
The Atavira picked up another weapon, briefly spinning its chamber before handing it to her.
"Arkbuster-K. Modified from the original with the same material in the Glaive's casing, only thirty five percent of the factory standard Arkbuster's weight. Seven types of grenade fit the three shell chamber: Frag, Incendiary, Sticky, Lift, Cluster, Arc and Homing. Lightweight, versatile, perfect for a biotic who wants something with a kick."
She accepted the weapon, compacting it and slinging it opposite her assault rifle on her back.
"For your sidearm, I'd recommend this."
The weapon she was holding up looked like an elongated Talon pistol that had gotten the same design treatment as the Glaive.
"EP-1 Assassin tactical sidearm. This baby was created by combining mechanisms from the SN7, the Talon and the Mataris. Dual fire mode, buckshot or slug, integrated laser sights, detachable silencer and pistol scope. I wouldn't use the silencer and the scope with the buckshot fire mode though."
Tucking the pistol into its slot on her thigh, she glanced around the bench.
"Anything else?"
The weapon tech shrugged.
"You're welcome to browse, but that's the loadout I'd recommend. Whole ensemble weighs less than nine kilos."
She chuckled to herself as she hopped up and down. The weapons were far lighter than what she was accustomed to.
"Thanks."
"Anytime. You should get that stowed."
She was prevented from doing so by a booming voice over the ship's intercom.
"All ground team assemble in the briefing room ASAP."
One torrent of curses directed at the snail's pace elevator later, she found herself in the briefing room on Deck 2. Being the only one in armour was a little awkward but the disturbed glances died down after she removed Yorick from her head.
Garrus leaned across to her and jerked a mandible at the Atavira commando commander.
"That's Mauri Auhelu. Recognise the surname?"
She wrinkled her brow in concentration for a moment.
"Auhelu. Aonis Auhelu?"
"Yep. We are serving with the firstborn daughter of the Butcher of Mahsio."
"No way. Seriously?"
Come to think of it, Lizzie could see the family resemblance. Aonis Auhelu was the bad kind of military legend. She had been a Keslan commando in the Sixth Crescent Sea War, before the force was disbanded by the Pau Disarmament Treaty. Her commandoes had besieged a major Haeli force that had superior defences, managing to repel their position. Then-General Aonis Auhelu had discovered that the Haeli regulars she was up against were largely drawn from the small town of Mahsio, just far enough from the border to be tactically insignificant. So she had personally led a force of commandoes, captured the town, beheaded every single resident and airdropped their severed heads onto the Haeli fortifications. Then she had waited twenty four hours and nuked the fortification. Every single other fortification she besieged during the war surrendered immediately through fear their sisters might be the next heads landing on their doorsteps. After the arrival of Admiral Kerensky's intervention fleet she had been sentenced to the electric chair and her family expelled from Kesla. How her firstborn daughter wound up in an Emaris uniform on the Normandy was anybody's guess.
The conversation died down as Saren entered the room, immediately cueing the lights down and activating a holoprojector.
"This is Grissom Academy fifteen minutes ago."
The cruciform shape of the station was a familiar and welcome sight for spacers like Lizzie. The Collector ship alongside it was not.
"This is the most recent image we have of Grissom Academy. The Collector vessel is crippled and venting atmosphere, but there is still a significant Collector presence aboard the Academy. Our objective remains unchanged - recover the jamming algorithm. Our secondary objective is evacuating the surviving students and staff. Tactical data shows their Seeker Swarms can be held off by biotic bubble shields. If you encounter them, cluster up and bubble up. We'll move in three teams. Team One will be led by Auhelu and consist of Auhelu, Vorolan, Alenko and Haleu. Team Two will be led by Anderson and consist of Anderson, Cassatian, Maesi and Williams. Team Three will be under my command and consist of myself, Shepard, Vakarian and Bussoi. EDI will be on overwatch duty. We've shifted to maximum burn and our ETA is seventy four minutes, I suggest you all head down to the armoury and pick up your equipment. Be ready for intense resistance aboard the station. Dismissed."