At the appointed time and place, Shepard, Udina, and Anderson all met beside the entry to the Normandy, the relative isolation and nearness to the vacuum affording them some measure of privacy. The three men stared uncomfortably at one another.
Udina broke the silence. "Captain Anderson will be stepping down as the Captain of the Normandy."
"She's all yours, Shepard." Anderson added, an edge of pain in his voice.
"Captain, this is unexpected. Was it by choice, or were you encouraged into it?" Shepard stood at parade rest, his shoulders slack, the implied threat in his words not carrying to his body language. Udina still took a reactive step backwards.
"No, Udina is right." Anderson shook his head. "It's time for me to step down. I got too close and too heated on account of Saren."
"Then with your blessing, Captain?" Shepard inclined his head at Anderson, unwilling to let the politician have the final word in assigning his first real command.
The Captain smiled slightly. "The Normandy is yours, Commander. Treat her well, she's a hell of a ship." taking his hands from behind his back, Anderson grabbed Shepard's shoulders. His voice was even, equally commanding and fatherly. "You'll do me proud, Shepard."
"Aye aye, Sir." Shepard saluted.
Udina rolled his eyes but maintained his distance. "If you two are done, the council passed on several leads..."
Shepard nodded. "Agent Bau already communicated those to me. Thank you, ambassador."
Udina looked disgruntled at being so easily cut out of the chain of command, but nodded, knowing he couldn't directly object. He huffed to himself as he turned to head back to the embassies, muttering impotently about the "self-concerned jackboots."
Watching him go, Anderson said, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy that."
Shepard grinned. "My pleasure sir." A measure of companionable silence passed between them. The nearness of the vacuum meant that while there was plenty of activity in the coming and going of ships, there was little noise.
"Sir, what about the crew?" Shepard said eventually.
"I already addressed them while you were training. I've recalled them all back from shore leave. They should all report by..." Anderson called up his omni-tool and checked the time. "20:00 GST. I've also sent them a message about my stepping down. Any who wanted to be reassigned to an Alliance vessel will be staying here. Only Walsh and Fredrickson asked to be reassigned."
"Thank you sir."
Anderson looked at the ships passing, unusually pensive for a man trained in decisiveness.
"Stay safe, Shepard. I have a feeling about this. that it's bigger than we're seeing. Bigger than Saren."
Shepard nodded. "I will sir."
Anderson gave him a crooked grin. "You had better. I won't always be around to backstop your cover."
Shepard laughed. "Hey, I earned this designation with the rest of them!" he said, gesturing to the N7 patch on his uniform.
"That you did." Anderson conceded, smiling. "Now make us proud." He said, putting his hand on Shepard's shoulder and shaking it with each syllable.
The two men shook hands, and Shepard boarded the Normandy as its CO for the first time.
Growing up with Asari had impressed upon Shepard the importance of ceremony and timing. It wasn't the actions themselves – on their own, ceremonial actions were trivial or foolish – it was the intent and recognition behind them. The auspiciousness of their circumstances demanded recognition, even if it was only a simple recognition that the ship had already veered into uncharted territory. It would also calm the sailors. Centuries of technological advances had failed to beat the superstitious streak out of the Navy, and probably never would.
So, as the men and women of the Normandy came trickling in, Shepard stood by the airlock, shaking their hands, greeting them. The ship didn't have a captain on the eve of its voyage, but it did have a CO who took the time to know the crew.
While Shepard had made a point during his breakneck training of keeping up with his newfound alien allies, he was nonetheless surprised when they arrived shipside. Tali came first, initially hiding behind Kaidan's bulk as he and Ashley strode in together.
"Just go for it Tali." Kaidan said.
"I still don't think –" Ashley said, but Kaidan shot her a look, indicative of some sort of previous argument.
"Worse that can happen is –" Kaidan looked up as the airlock finished cycling through the decontamination process, and did a double take at Shepard standing in the doorway.
"Kaidan, Ashley!" Shepard said, shaking their hands and clapping them on the shoulder. "Thanks for signing back up.
"Wouldn't miss it Commander." Kaidan said, nodding.
"Couldn't let you keep all of the fun." Ashley said, throwing a decidedly non-regulation salute.
Shepard turned to greet Tali'Zorah. She started babbling before he could get any words out:
"Shepard – I mean, Commander Shepard, I was hoping – I wanted to ask…" Tali'Zorah trailed off, then straightened her back and squared her shoulders at Shepard.
"I've been working with Alliance and council techs decrypting Geth signals, finding out where they're planning to strike next. It's fascinating work! I didn't expect that the Council had so much data on the Geth." Shepard saw the bright points of her eyes blink, followed by her reorienting herself back to her point. "I wanted to ask if I could join your ship in hunting Saren."
Shepard tilted his head pensively, weighing potential information security concerns. "I appreciate the offer Tali. What about your own Pilgrimage?"
Shepard saw Tali take a deep breath. "The pilgrimage proves we are willing to give of ourselves for the greater good. What does it say about me if I turn my back on this?" She motioned around her. "Working with the Council is amazing, but I can accomplish more here, hunting and studying the organic that the Geth see as a prophet."
Seeing Shepard nod and open his mouth to speak, Tali switched topics, "I know how to take care of myself – you saw me fight those thugs in the alleyway." She looked up and rocked her heels back, an expression Shepard had seen in one of his xenopsychology books he was studying for Bau, but couldn't quite place.
"I – My father also trained me in combat when I was young. I'm fully certified as a Migrant Fleet Marine. I can handle myself on ground missions, if you will let me aboard."
Shepard considered Tali'Zorah. He had been impressed with her ability, and now her commitment. The spirit of Alliance regulations and information security would warn him against accepting the permanent help of any soldier of a foreign military – even if they were young and resourceful and helpful. Maybe especially if they were young, resourceful and helpful. But, to Kaidan's point, there wasn't anything specific necessarily preventing them from taking the quarian woman on. Not that the schematics of the Normandy weren't already known by the Turians, and presumably the Salarians by now.
Shepard shook his head, suppressing a brief grin. The Systems Alliance Intelligence had a saying: "Assume the salarians know at least something about everything."
Shepard gave the quarian one last look, a different idea returning the twinkle to his eye. The Migrant Fleet was nearly an intelligence black-hole. Despite being social creatures, there just wasn't consistent access into their decision-making processes, while all the best data was old and biased, coming from exiles or those pilgrims who decided to chart their destinies outside of the orbit of the migrant fleet. Building trust with secrets already widely known might create an opening.
Shepard nodded, and extended a hand. "Welcome aboard, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. We'd be glad to have you."
Tali shook his hand without hesitation, her grip surprisingly strong. Shepard noted with some amusement that she walked particularly tall as she made her way onto the ship.
Shepard turned back to his self-designated duty station this day, welcoming one ensign Draven and Private Dubyansky back aboard the SSV Normandy. To his surprise, Detective Garrus Vakarian followed them through the airlock.
Shepard raised his eyebrows when the detective offered him a full turian salute.
"Commander Shepard." Garrus said, once he'd finished.
"What can I do for you Detective?" Shepard said.
"I'd like to request permission to join your mission. This investigation, pursuing Saren, it wouldn't be right if I didn't at least to try following it to the end. I want to offer my services. I'm no stranger to picking up cold trails. More than that, you've seen me fight – I'm an experienced sniper with specializations with close-quarter combat, artillery, heavy armor, and shipside armament. I can pull my weight."
Garrus glanced at Shepard's attentive face for a second, before relaxing his pose somewhat. "But you don't want my resume. Frankly Commander, you accomplished in a couple of days what would've taken C-Sec a month and a mountain of paperwork. After pulling me off of the Saren investigation, C-Sec was going to put me back to chasing two-bit drug smugglers while we let their suppliers and buyers off for having too much influence or being offworld." Shepard's translator glitched at the next sentence, but he thought he'd seen the phrase in one of his studies on the languages of Palaven. "You're a windlode spirit, Shepard. I want to make a difference, and I know I can do it here, if you'll let me."
Garrus chuffed, the exhale making his mandibles flicker ever so slightly. "I also brought along all my case files and leads I found on Saren."
Shepard reflected briefly on the sheer authority afforded to him now he was a SpecTRe, and nodded. "It was a pleasure working with you, Vakarian. As acting Captain of the Normandy, and a member of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance division of the Citadel, I'd be glad to have you on board." Mirroring Garrus' gesture, Shepard gave him a full Alliance salute. Garrus seemed to appreciate the gesture, nodding slightly.
Shepard passed Garrus off to Pressly, who looked somewhat uncomfortable, to show him his quarters aboard the Normandy, and put in an order requisitioning dextro-amino rations for their new alien crewmates.
He turned around and found himself staring down the red eye of a very scarred krogan.
"Wrex." Shepard said.
"Shepard." Wrex said.
A silence passed between them, neither breaking eye contact. Shepard noted out of the corner of his eye that the ensigns on deck slipped away, presumably to alert one of the marine contingent about a possible security issue.
"Humans are still soft. But you know how to pick the good fights."
"Is that a question?" Shepard asked.
Wrex stared him down, calculating, always calculating. Shepard had met krogan before, during his "lost years" after leaving Thessia. Other krogan had dead eyes filled with desperate cunning, but not calculation.
Finishing his own calculations, Shepard gave Wrex a lazy half-smile, "You're welcome to join us in our hunt." He'd done his research on Wrex. Centuries of fighting in mercenary bands had given him quite a record. Upon receiving his report, Alliance intelligence had actually urged him to cultivate a relationship with him if he could, both for use as a future alliance contractor and black hand, or for the contacts he was sure to have from his wanderings around the galaxy.
More silence. "It will be a worthy fight." Shepard said quietly. "SpecTRes don't come quietly."
Wrex snorted again, almost pensively, if a snort could be thoughtful. "The Broker offered me quite a bit of money to be here." He said.
"Did you take it?" Shepard asked, curious.
Wrex loomed, seeming to lean forward over Shepard's tall form without actually moving.
"No."
The krogan receded slightly. "Don't make me regret it."
He motioned with is biotics, picking up his trunk and putting it over his shoulder and looking expectantly at the Commander.
Shepard was intrigued. He waved the krogan battlemaster aboard.
Shepard left his post about an hour later, having welcomed all his official crew aboard the Normandy, and reported to Jondam Bau's office on the Citadel. His assigned SpecTRe mentor welcomed him quickly, and proceeded go grill him relentlessly on the readings he'd been assigned to make him judicious and knowledgeable, as well as dangerous. As was usual with the SpecTRes, the Agent offered no criticism, neither affirming or denying that Shepard had accurately answered his questions. Perhaps it was his recent studies in alien behavior, but Shepard swore he saw something akin to a triumphant gleam in the salarian's eyes after he finished, however.
"Satisfactory. Here" Bau pulled out a small case, unlocking the complex lock on its face and handing the open box to Shepard. The gleaming square of a shipped pistol lay inside, lacking any manufacturer's marks.
"This is one of the experimental pistols designed specifically for the Spectres." Bau gave the smallest of smirks. "You will have to earn the others." Shepard noted the fancy weaponry on the SpecTRe's back.
"But this will do for now. Remember, your reputation is one of your most useful tools - Elysium, Eden Prime," Bau's eyes became searching. "Mindoir. You already have a significant advantage. Use it."
Shepard nodded. "Thank you sir. I wish I could spend more time training properly."
Bau shook his head. "No. Mission always comes first. That is the purpose of the Spectres. Remember that, too." Bau offered his hand. Shepard, slightly surprised at the human gesture, took it gladly.
"Good hunting Shepard." Bau said, then turned and marched deeper into HQ without looking back.
Shepard took the long way back to the Normandy, enjoying the peace of the presidium. He had a feeling peace would be hard to come by in the coming days. Leaning against the railing along one of the pristine lakes he stared at its unnaturally glassy surface, contemplating.
Suddenly he grimaced, hand moving towards his head, the clear glass of the lake before him dissolving into memory.
Alexander had initially been resistant to the idea of being adopted though he still found the weight of horror and guilt too large to overcome, and expressed his restance silently. He'd found a semblance of stability in the 5 months he'd been in the orphanage - screaming kids and all. Lyvanis and Nala were persistent though.
"Alexander." The older asari's voice was soft and lilting, with a slight musical tone to it. Alexander looked up from his favorite corner. "It's good to see you well. Things will be ready in two weeks time." Lyvanis kneeled down next to him. "Would you like that?"
Alexander hesitated, but nodded. Lyvanis relaxed, allowing herself to sit more casually beside him. Nala stood hesitantly by the corner.
"Do you trust me, Alexander?" Lyvanis' face was soft, comforting. Alexander looked from her to Nala, who was still looking unsure of herself. He was about to nod, when the caretaker's walked around the corner. She smiled at the gathering.
"Oh there you are!" She looked around, futilely pulling a few hairs back into what had once been a bun. "You certainly like this corner." She smiled indulgently. "I'll leave you to it."
Lyvanis smiled and nodded, and the caretaker left. She looked expectantly at Alexander. He looked down, but nodded. She reached out one hand and cupped his cheek.
"Relax, Alexander. I just want to understand." Lyvanis leaned her head in, saying softly, "You trust me, right?" he nodded. "Then relax." Her eyes suffused with a rush of blood, making them go dark.
Alexander initially recoiled at the feeling of someone touching his mind. But he heard music - gentle rolling strains overlaid with complex multi-part harmonies that emanated from the core of Lyvanis' being. Soft strains promising comfort and sympathy, dancing melodies conveying comprehension in their complexity. Alexander relaxed. Their minds touched - Lyvanis seeking understanding, Alexander, escape.
Dimly, Alexander heard the asari gasp as she saw the memories that plagued him unfolding before her - no, to her. The awful wails of Mindoir, the eerie silences of the Batarian slave ship. Shots from the dark, switches flipped at opportune moments. Death and despair rising in the noisome pall that covered more and more of the ship. Alexander heard Lyvanis' mental sob of sympathetic anguish.
They separated, Lyvanis' eyes returning to their normal shade. She was shaking. Fear and horror and pity coursed through her, but she reached out her arms and hugged Alexander. And for the first time, he hugged someone back.
The caretaker came back around and stopped, smiling broadly at the scene. Lyvanis and Alexander separated, and Lyvanis motioned to the caretaker.
"Could you talk to Alexander while I discuss something with Ms. Richards?" She asked her daughter, who frowned slightly.
"But he won't talk back."
"Think of it as a challenge then." Lyvanis smiled encouragingly, and Nalanissa nodded, determination in her eyes. The two older women walked around down the hallway, but Alexander could still hear their conversation.
"How much of his file did you read?"
"Only the basics, I try to let the kids shape my view of them." Ms. Richards said.
"Do you recall what Alexander's file said?"
"Batarian slavers, poor kid. Rescued in the nick of time?" There was a brief silence, which Alexander took to be Lyvanis shaking her head.
"No. He killed them. The whole crew of the ship that captured him."
A muffled sound escaped Ms. Richards. She'd presumably put her hands over her mouth. Lyvanis sounded wretched as she related the rest of the tale.
"His mother told him to. His father was already dead, and she was on the way out, likely from loss of blood. She told him to save the others, and kill those responsible." The impeccably unruffled asari swallowed in horror. "And he did."
There was a ghastly silence. "Do you... do you still want to adopt?"
"He needs me." Came the simple reply. Alexander felt a rush of gratitude to the asari, friend of his parents. There was a pause, then she added, strains of pain lining the soft lilt of her voice. "He likes that corner because it has a view of all the exits."
"Hey." Nala touched Alexander's shoulder, drawing him back into the present. "Did you ever... Did you ever master that trick I showed you?"
There was a long pause as Alexander considered the last time he made a singularity. Batarians leaking their too-dark blood from bullet holes around a small all-consuming sphere of darkness against the darkened night-cycle lighting of the bridge on that horrific ship.
He nodded slowly.
The images shifted violently, pictures of alien forms screaming as living wires forcibly worked their way into dying flesh. A hard alien face, saying "I don't have friends anymore, I killed them all." A ghastly outline, like a dark outstretched hand descending from a storm-wracked sky.
Shepard took a sharp breath, as the images dissolved and the pristine lake came into focus once more, the reflection of the Mass Relay monument seeming to point at him accusingly. Slowing his heart rate down, Shepard took another deep breath and blew it out through his nose. The peace he'd felt before had been shattered. Straightening his back, Shepard made the rest of the trip back to the Normandy.
He had a SpecTRe to catch, and a crew to break in.
"Commander Shepard has the deck. XO Pressly stands relieved." Droned the Normady's VI as Shepard stepped through the airlock. Navigator Pressly saluted and turned to the Commander as he stepped up to the Conn.
"Sir. We had one more unscheduled arrival."
"Oh?"
"Yes sir. Young man, came to the airlock, practically begging for a place on the Normandy." Pressly frowned, an anomaly in his otherwise professional manner. "The young man knew a surprising amount about the Normandy and her mission. He attempted to bargain his way aboard using that knowledge. I turned him away and reported to SAIS about their potential information leak." Pressly shook his head and looked away. "Funny thing though – when I looked up what information the Alliance had on him, there was nothing. No record of his parents, where he was born, and his last name in the file was made entirely of asterisks, like it had been redacted."
Shepard frowned, troubled. "Did he attempt to blackmail us?"
Pressly shook his head. "Seemed like he wanted to try, but ultimately plead his case because he just wanted to help stop Saren."
Shepard relaxed. SAIS would deal with the young man, one way or another. "Well done, Pressly. No telling what havoc they could've wreaked if given access to the Normandy."
"Yes sir." Pressly saluted, his professional bearing not quite hiding the pleased way he carried himself.
The Normandy took off shortly afterward, the stealth ship smoothly catching the Serpent Nebula's Mass Relay. They were underway, headed towards the Traverse. Shepard's long nights of studying Saren (and Nihlus') mission reports showed they'd spent a great deal of time in the area, thwarting batarian incursions with absolute deniability. In Saren's case, usually no survivors, either. Shepard noted that the effort – designed to protect Humanity's claim to the galactic space, steadily made Saren more and more openly resentful in his mission reports. Shepard sighed. Anderson hadn't been exaggerating Saren's hatred for humanity.
Shepard's comms pinged, and Joker spoke through the internal ship system. "Message from the Citadel for you Commander."
"Can you patch me through, or do I need to take this in the briefing room?"
Joker didn't respond, and Anderson's face appeared on the viewscreen at the Captain's terminal.
"Shepard, Asari law enforcement finally got back to us on that request for Benezia's known associates."
Shepard nodded, He'd routed the request through Humanity's embassy. Asari bureaucracy and governmental decentralization was such that if you didn't know someone on the inside, going super formal actually produced a result much faster than trying to bludgeon you way through. It still wasn't fast. Shepard had placed that request 4 days ago, shortly after they found out about Matriarch Benezia's involvement.
"It's not good. The T'Soni family is powerful, but fractured. Benezia took all of her followers and left her house a shell of what it was."
Shepard nodded. His time on Thessia left him with an intimate knowledge of the "great families" of Thessia. While technically a techno-democracy that allowed decentralized governments to rule by consensus through the direct representation, the planet effectively functioned through a de facto aristocracy led by the informal board of wealthy and prominent families known only as the "Council of Matriarchs." The T'Soni's had long held a spot on the council. The sudden abdication of that spot, and evaporation of one of the "great houses" of Thessia heralded swift change that may not bode well for the Asari. But moreover, moves that large shouldn't have taken this long to reach the Alliance, even given the vast distances involved.
"You know better than most the implications of that." Anderson nodded gravely at Shepard, who realized his face had fallen into a grim frown.
"Aye Sir. The Alliance was kept out of the loop on that one."
Anderson nodded, and sighed. "Embassy posting has me brushing off old counterintel plans and tactics. I forgot just how paranoid it all makes you." He nodded, and pulled himself back on topic. "We have a lead though. Benezia's estranged daughter, Liara T'Soni, joined a 50-year archaeological expedition to the Knossos System in the Traverse. She's in the system but nobody knows where, just yet. I've requested a division of SAIS to dig something up on the expedition itself."
Shepard held back a sigh and nodded his thanks. There's no telling when that brainpower would come through and how quickly – or how organized – such an expedition might take.
"Udina's corporate contacts also came up with something. Saren held a major share in ExoGeni, a biological research agency that's been sponsoring colonies in the traverse to build a catalogue of species and find commonalities between native species – you know, trying to make the next medigel."
Shepard nodded. Not an uncommon goal. Medigel's discovery and multipurpose uses was a driving factor in the international prestigue humanity currenty enjoyed. It also secured the Sirta Foundation's place as Humanity's most valuable company.
"Their colony at Feros logged a catastrophic loss alert three days ago, but ExoGeni has kept the alert tightly under wraps and has not requested Alliance assistance with clean-up or disaster recovery. I'd normally pass this off to the Home Office, which handles that sort of thing, if not for the fact that Saren's financial representative shorted his own stock in the company four days ago. The SSV Orizaba, in the system, also reported unidentified vessels at range during their sweep of the system five days ago."
"You think Geth attached the location?"
Anderson nodded. "That's all the information I have for you Shepard. I'll leave it up to you how you issue your orders, SpecTRe."
Shepard didn't miss the proud glint in Anderson's eye, and unconsciously stood up straighter because of it.
"Understood Captain." Shepard gave his former CO a full salute, and ended the call, before telling Joker to set their bearing for Feros.
Author's note: Credit to LogicalPremise and his work in fleshing out nearly everything in the Mass Effect universe into a darker, more logical, and more twisted version of it's slapdash canon characterization. I borrowed from his characterization of Thessia's politics.
Secondly, Thanks for reading the updated version! Life is keeping me from fixing the flaws and updating this story as often as I would like, but thank you for continuing to read. I really appreciate the views and I love reading the reviews. Constructive criticism is always welcome - I know my writing can use a little more "polish" sometimes.
and yes, for those of you wondering, Pressly's uninvited guest with no last name is a tongue-in-cheek nod to the many quality self-inserts on this site, not least by DelVarO, Tusken1602, Lanilen, and other very deserving authors whose handles i have unfortunately forgotten.
Thanks again!