Elysium

- July, 2176

"Lieutenant Shepard,"

The man was thin, but somehow also emanated a sense of uncanny physical strength, almost like a Turian. His peppered hair was combed back to reveal a high forehead, and a straight roman nose, which all combined to make him seem more and more like a Turian with a smooth leather mask on.

All the while her eyes dissected him, Messalina had smoothly stood up and offered a crisp salute, which was returned immediately. You could tell by the manner in which one salutes what an officer thinks of herself and the military service in general. A superior who lets the subordinate hang in place for too long before returning a brusque quick one usually is pregnant with some delusions of his stature. On the other hand, one who dismisses saluting entirely usually ekes of poor discipline. Finding the right time to return a salute told a lot about the man. And like the fable of Goldilocks, his was just right, sending her the right message that "I honor the uniform, and I respect you, too, Junior."

Messalina had been saluting ever since she was three years old and living on a space station, like most military brats. Grandmother had passed away at an early age, and Father and Hannah had entrusted her to Rear Admiral (retired) Alan Shepard, a.k.a. Grandpa. An intelligence officer, but more of a scientist at heart, he had been Hannah's mentor when he introduce her to Father. Grandpa had retired early, a few months before the first-contact war erupted. When the first contact war broke out he maintained a civilian employment aboard the space station as an outside consultant, writing strategic proposals and reviewing intelligence to the suddenly understaffed war department, while rearing his granddaughter while her parents were away at war. He was the one who first introduced Messalina to the game of "Tell me twenty things about this picture" early on, which she later came to understand as basic Intelligence officer training. Grandpa was quite a martinet, but very affectionate toward his only granddaughter. His attachment grew closer, when a few months later, Father was killed in action during the final phases of the war. Messalina had been three at the time and hardly remembered Father. The two remained on Arcturus station while Hannah went off to support the family, later relocating to other smaller stations as the aftermath of the war settled in and Alan Shepard's services became less and less required.

The aftermath was hard on Grandpa as the aftermath meant that he had to endure close contact with Turians, the race who killed his son, on a daily basis. Turians, who politically seemed so nonchalant about the whole War, as if saying "let bygones be bygones", were equally aggressive toward the old man on a personal level. Later did Messalina understand that their losses dwarfed the human casualties. Either through stress of sadness, Grandpa soon passed away, forcing Hannah to return to station duty from her promising career to raise her only remaining family by herself. Hannah was different than Grandpa, and soon the two settled into a routine where they avoided each other if possible, culminating with Hannah eventually requesting permission to raise her daughter on a war ship. Even a space station seemed too stationary for the star struck Hannah, who had seemed to whither among the bureaucracy of port duty but then flourished immediately as she returned to the stars.

Messalina's life went on to inhabit a series of home schooling and cramped quarters. But if anything else Messalina was adaptable. She learned her boundaries, which fluctuated from CO to CO. The kinder COs, which were more frequent as Hannah was an exemplary officer, allowed much more space for Messalina to run about in, endearing her to the crew as the ship's unofficial mascot. More severe COs, like one Captain Mikhailovich, eventually refused to accept Hannah with a child in tow, forcing the single mother back to station duty. Messalina eventually came to regard all COs as a collective father figure.

The man before her seemed to smile at her without smiling, curtly offering her to take a seat, which she carefully accepted only when he settled down. Command seemed to be his nature, no awkwardness on protocol, yet never blunt and authorative beyond what she expected of a flag officer.

"I'm Rear-Admiral Hackett." the man began. He had set down what she assumed was her dossier and mission report without opening them. "I've read your report, Lieutenant. Impressive job down there."

"Thank you, sir." Messalina swore to herself; she sounded wooden as a VI.

"No, no," the Admiral chuckled. "Thank you! You've practically saved the colony single-handedly."

"I wouldn't say so, myself, Admiral." Shepard confessed, blushing uncharacteristically at the compliment. "I cannot report the implications and effects of my actions. Many others helped."

"My reports," Hackett began, before adding with stress, "by others who participated, claim that they were ready to fall back and retreat when... let me quote this verbatim...this is from a Sergeant Bates... 'this young girl in straw hat and sandals jumped in, picked a Lancer and began taking out the hidden sniper positions with single shots.' Does the Sergeant describe your actions correctly, Lieutenant?"

Messalina stiffened. "If I may offer an excuse, Admiral Hackett, sir, I was not wearing uniform because I was off duty."

Hackett's expression crumpled into a twist before bursting out laughing. "I'm not looking to reprimand you for your dress code, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

Hackett continued to read the report out loud. "'... which then allowed us to regroup behind the burnt out M-30. We were still huddled around with our LT looking for our mysterious Joan of Arc, when we heard explosions going off behind enemy lines.'"

"I was able to proceed through the enemy flank, Admiral," Messalina began to explain.

"You have poor language skills, Lieutenant." Hackett chuckled. "Hardened Marine NCOs just hailed you as the Maid of Orleans. I've read the reports to understand your battle progression, Lieutenant. You took out the Bataarian snipers, seven of them with seven shots, using an Assault Rifle, before picking up a Mantis off a fallen soldier. You ran from cover to cover before insanely cutting right through the thick of the enemy before you reached the forest, not forgetting to plant a couple of mines along the way and decapitating three Bataarians who were merging on your position. You then took out the tanks by overloading the mines and then immobilized the enemy by taking potshots from a secure location until the Calvary arrived. Is that about right?"

"I..." Messalina began slowly walking through his words while matching kills with her memory. Grandpa had always impressed upon her the importance of properly conveying information.

But Hackett's expression seemed impatient. "I'll take that as a yes, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

"The collated battle reports suggest you personally took down seventy three Bataarians, not to mention the strategic advantage of immobilizing the enemy through one of the most exemplary sniper operations in Military history."

Messalina's mind simply registered it as a factual statement.

"I'm here to investigate your commendation for the Star of Terra, Lieutenant."

Now that certainly struck her. The Star of Terra, the highest military honor to an individual the Alliance could bestow.

"How old are you, Lieutenant?"

"Twenty two this April, sir."

"Your file says your an N6 graduate of the ICT."

"Yes, sir."

Hackett collected his files and stood up. Messalina hurriedly offered a salute. This time Hackett let it hang there, almost admiring the young officer.

Without returning the salute, he continued.

"You're being immediately promoted to 1st Lieutenant. You will also be hearing from special forces command assigning you an N7 mentor and posting."

Finally he returned the salute. "You're a hero of humanity, Shepard. I'll be keeping my eye on you."