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A bomb on a space station?
Were humans crazy?
Tali looked over at Gun Dog, who was watching the news feed while devouring as much food as he could as fast as he could. She curled her lip in disgust, for once grateful that none of the humans could see her expressions through the envirosuit's dark mask. Gun Dog didn't fit into the compartment she labeled "Crazy."
His compartment she labeled as "Revolting."
Tali cast her eyes in the direction of Corporal Hardy. His expression was indiscernible, which was unlike him. He wasn't as outgoing as Guo had been, but at least she could understand the subtle differences in his expression better than say, Shepard or Joker, who (according to many of the crew) were masters of The Neutral. No one she spoke to called it anything but The Neutral, although Kaidan often referred to it as their 'game face'–which made Tali's translator belch until she loaded a new archive and found that no games were conducted across either the ship's helmsman or the commander's faces and referred directly to a human card game called Poker.
And Poker was fun! Especially after she learned that she could earn credits…by counting the cards.
"Do you have family on Arcturus Station, Corporal Hardy?" she asked, curious to know what the human was thinking and taking her mind off credit-earning.
He blinked, his eyes coming to focus on her. It took him a few seconds to realize that she had asked a question. "Huh? Oh, no. No, ma'am. My family is from Earth." He was thoughtful a few beats then added with a rueful smile, "The only way to get off Earth is Be Rich or Be Biotic. I'm not sure which is worse."
It unnerved her sometimes when the human marines addressed her as ma'am, reminding her of the Flotilla Marines who forewent their ship names to protect the Flotilla. Always on the move, the Marines shifted from ship to ship all in the name of the Flotilla. And in the Flotilla, she wasn't anyone but Admiral Rael'Zorah's daughter.
There were a lot of expectations that came with ma'am.
Here though, surrounded by humans and tracking geth and their rogue Spectre master, she was only a young quarian discovering the galaxy and helping bring down the Plight of Civilization. She was Someone and No One at the same time…and she found she loved it.
"Jazz," she said using the nickname his team called him, "My name is Tali. Remember?"
He gave a genuine smile then. "Sorry, Tali. Habit."
"This was significant?" she asked, gesturing in the direction of the feed, and at his expression she amended, "More than the bombing, I mean. For biotic humans?"
He nodded. "Yes, m—ah, yeah. Yeah. Civilian biotics have a real tough time as it is. Most join the military for the perks or because there's no other place to go after their families disown them. There's a big deal going on right now with a few religious groups saying we're not human in opposition to the L2 reparation discussion at Parliament."
His expression changed. "L3s, like me, aren't supposed to go off the deep end and start killing people."
The translation for 'go off the deep end' popped up in Tali's HUD, and she recognized the idea behind it immediately. Psychotic breaks happened with every species, even quarian. Some minds weren't equipped for everyday life. Some people experienced trauma so horrible that their minds couldn't process it.
Some quarians couldn't handle the Pilgrimage and came back to the Flotilla damaged shells of their former selves.
"Not everyone is the same," she mused.
Hardy looked at her, studied her helmet. "You're right," he said eventually, but pointed to the feed. "Doesn't make this any easier to stomach."
She nodded after the translation appeared in her HUD. "You're right," she echoed.
Kaidan entered the Comm Room and made his way down the ramp, his boots thudding on the metal deck, heavier than usual. Shepard would be there in a few minutes. She'd been discussing with Dr. Chakwas an exercise regimen to strengthen her arms and shoulders after her injuries healed so that she wouldn't be hampered in the field.
Kaidan had the utmost respect for Shepard. She was beautiful, charismatic—a unique force of nature. He'd follow her to the edge of existence and back. The idea terrified him and thrilled him at the same time. There were very few women–COs, he mentally corrected, we're on a warship, for God sakes, not some tuna boat—that could make him feel that way.
Regardless of his opinion of Shepard's…battle prowess, he thought it was damn stupid to try to work during a dangerous surgical procedure when it would have been more beneficial to everyone to let the doctor do her job. Because of her insistence on staying awake for part of the time, the Commander would endure a longer-than-normal recovery period. Her movements on the table had hindered Dr. Chakwas' ability to operate and had done more damage to the nerve-endings in Shepard's shoulder, including several biotic nodes. Once it was clear that Shepard's wakefulness was a hindrance, he and Dr. Chakwas anesthetized her with an unspoken agreement never to tell Shepard the why behind the recovery period.
Kaidan shook his head at the memory wondering why he expected anything else from Shepard. She was a work-a-holic through and through. Of course she was going to try to work during surgery. Next time—and with the way Shepard fought long and hard during even the briefest of skirmishes, Kaidan knew there would be a Next Time—he wasn't going to let her say no to a good drugging during surgery.
His mind jumped to the current problem. As of late, he was too busy (and Normandy had been too far away from the comm relay network) to stay abreast of the politics surrounding the L2 reparation discussions. He felt completely out of the loop. Shepard's face shut down when he'd told her about the bombing on Arcturus and let her see what little footage there was of it. Maybe it was nervousness about the backlash biotics would inevitably receive or maybe Shepard was concerned about her own L3 config. There was something about the way she listened to the reporter and watched the feed. If he'd learned anything from serving over four months with her, Shepard's expression—or lack thereof—told him that she knew more about what was going on than he did. She had priority access to any comms, he mused.
Whatever it was that Shepard knew, Kaidan's nervousness bled through to full-blown worry by the time he reached the end of the ramp.
WAITING TO CONNECT loomed in red on the FTL comm's screen. Joker stood at the comm unit hunched over his crutches, his disease evident in the awkward curve of his spine and the bowing of his right leg. He didn't turn around or move as Kaidan took a seat at one of the chairs bolted to the floor near the FTL arrays. Kaidan wanted to ask how Joker was holding up, but refrained, knowing that 1) if Kaidan was in Joker's shoes, he'd be beside himself with worry and 2) Joker would speak his mind when he was good and ready and not a moment before.
A minute turned into ten before Joker finally spoke. "Comm bandwidth in and around Arcturus is overloaded. Closest network is Asgard, and that's still fucked up from the batarian terrorists in January." The words came out calm, even.
Sounds about right.
Trillions of sentients lived in the galaxy, and most of them had media agencies vying for comm buoy bandwidth. Any type of catastrophic event blacked out most communications due to the influx of governmental, military, and media transmission bursts. During Wartime, the comm buoy relays were the first to get taken out. Because of the network structure, taking out the buoys closet to the cluster's mass relay would cut off all communications to the cluster. It was a tactic used by pirates, but also resulted in faster response time by the Alliance. Anytime a cluster went dark, ships and troops were mobilized immediately. Seven major buoys had gone down around Terra Nova. They were still rebuilding.
"Have you routed through the official channels?"
Joker's head swung around, and he stared angrily at Kaidan. "Of course I have. What channels during an emergency are there other than official?" he demanded. "Besides, it's not like we have–"
He stopped talking when the comm room door slid open, and Shepard strode with purpose down the ramp, injured arm firmly wrapped in a sling. She glanced at Kaidan as she passed him. She still had her game face on. Kaidan's blood ran cold, his pulse beating a rhythm in his ears.
She addressed the VI, "Betty, end communiqué and encrypt and route communications packet through nearest buoy. Priority access: Shepard, Calleigh. Clearance: Citadel Office of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. Passcode: Don't clog the tubes. Encryption code: O-U-O-S-V-A-V-V."
"Voice Ident Verified," Betty replied. "Priority access: granted, Spectre Shepard. Awaiting further inquiry."
Kaidan blinked. She was… Was it really that easy?
"Admiral Steven Hackett, Fifth FleetCOM," Shepard said. "Arcturus Station, Alliance Space."
"Access granted: Please wait for connection."
"How many in the queue?"
"Normandy is currently number four."
Shepard nodded absently. "Have a seat, Joker," she told him.
He looked as though he wanted to argue with her, opening his mouth angrily, but relented and sat in the nearest chair to the FTL console.
"Normandy is currently number three," Betty reported.
"I don't have to tell either one of you that whatever is said during this conversation doesn't leave this room," she said once Joker adjusted himself and laid his crutches aside. "So I'm only going to say this once: This conversation never happened, gentlemen. You'll say nothing. The Admiral isn't to know you're in the room."
She turned from the console and looked both of them in the eye until they both nodded.
Betty said, "Normandy is currently number two."
Shepard typed in a series of codes into the computer. Kaidan's mouth fell open when he saw the characters that were scrolling across the screen as she typed.
Turian basic.
Holy hell.
"Betty, locate Lieutenants Alenko and Moreau," she ordered the computer.
"Logged: Lieutenant Moreau is on shore leave. Location: Unknown. Unable to locate on Normandy," the VI said. "Logged: Lieutenant Alenko has reported for Dog Watch. Location: Engineering."
"Thank you, Betty."
"Normandy is currently number one," Betty announced to Kaidan and Joker's dumbfounded stares. "Prepare for connection to Admiral Hackett's office, Arcturus Station, Earth System Alliance Territories."
"You've seen the news," Admiral Hackett said without preamble. There were many times Shepard enjoyed being right. This was not one of those times. That he was expecting her call only reinforced her belief that whatever shit was going on with biotics and Arcturus, she—as a result of having to defend herself against her biotic squad member that went three shades of bat shit crazy, as a result of being a biotic or as a result of being the first human Spectre; maybe all three—was expected to wade chin deep into it.
Although it wasn't a question, she nodded, ignoring the sudden pain that raced from her collarbone to her neck. "Yes, sir, and I have two questions."
He said nothing right away, and then asked, "Only two?"
"At the moment, sir."
"To answer your first question," he said without allowing her to ask. "We do believe they are referring to your old squad mate. The investigation on her death just closed. Orders for your detainment have been issued by Ambassador Udina."
He leveled her with a wry look. "Commander Donut of the SSV Neverdock received the orders two days ago."
Shepard grimaced, not sure to feel relieved that someone believed her version of events or angry that the incident had occurred to begin with. "That was going to be my third question, sir," she told him, curiosity to ask about the report nearly outweighing what she came to the comm room to do. Knowing that it was her didn't sit any easier with Shepard. L3s were supposed to be stable. She was supposed to be stable. One of the best, Shepard had been told. Spikes a little on the high side for an L3, they'd said.
Bullshit, she said.
She laid the matter to rest with a firm clearing of her throat before looking the holo of the Commandant of Fifth Fleet in the eye and stating, "One of my crew has family on Arcturus. Normandy can't make it. We've got too many repairs and not enough hours in the day to do them. I want a pick up for him."
"Granted," Hackett said. He didn't even hesitate. The hair of the back of Shepard's neck rose. Something was definitely amiss. Even for a Spectre, what she had requested was a fairly tall order. "Anything else?"
She hesitated, restraining herself from looking at Alenko. "Biotics on board are a little antsy, sir. Orders?"
"I understand you have a BAaT graduate on board," the Admiral said after a moment.
"Yes, sir. Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko."
"Good soldier. Doesn't go off script."
Shepard narrowed her odd-colored eyes. Hackett knew damn well who was on the crew roster and why they were chosen. They wouldn't be aboard without his final approval. Normandy's maiden voyage was too big politically for him not to be involved, and now that she was under a Spectre's command meant he had to play ball with every Council Race.
"Have you spoken with the Council?"
"No, sir. We'll be having a debriefing later today to discuss what the Council needs to know."
Hackett nodded. "I've read your preliminaries and Dr. Chakwas' light duty orders," he said conversationally. "Worst timing in the history of the Alliance."
"I've submitted a formal protest to the geth that got the shot in, sir."
"Report to Arcturus with Joker," he ordered, surprising her. Was she going to be detained? "Bring Alenko with you. You're a Spectre, and I have no authority over your reports to the Council, but I strongly recommend belaying submission of mission reports to the Citadel until after you've reached Arcturus. I'm sending an encrypted burst you and Alenko will need to review before getting here. The transport is already en route."
"Yes, sir," she said. Already en route? "Should I prepare for questions?"
"Not necessary. Commander Donut has everything in control."
"He sounds delightful, sir. Can't wait to meet him."
SSV Neverdock – Play on USS Neverdock which is NavSpeak for a ship that appears to stay out for longer periods of time. (Usually in reference to the sailor's own ship.)
Tuna Boat – Present day(ish?): derogatory term that refers to a mostly (all? more than 20? IDK) female crew. Redundant'verse: evolved from present day term and refers to a crew that doesn't give a shit about fraternization; although still derogatory, because gender equality is (mostly) not an issue within the military, it has lost most of its original meaning; usually the longer the cruise, the more prone a ship is to becoming one.
Commander Donut– Inspired by my food at the time of writing. :) But, it would be fucking awesome to hear Lance Henriksen say, "Commander Donut has everything in control." Do you hear it? Glorious!