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Chapter 9

He Said

Usually, there was some notice to this sort of thing. But, as Anderson explained to me, they had a ship with no CO, a Spectre and her team needing a ride and a spare Staff Commander standing around the Citadel. In the Alliance, things rarely work out that smoothly.

I arrived at the dock at 0745 just so I could get a good look at my ship. I wondered if Shepard felt this way about the Normandy the first time she saw her. The Concord was a Normandy-class ship, which meant she incorporated the same turian design features as the Normandy did. Although from what I'd gathered, the SR-2 was even more advanced than the Concord. It didn't matter, the Concord was mine.

I didn't need to look, but movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention and I glanced over to see Shepard in full armor and fully armed standing next to me, her hands clasped behind her back. Most biotics had a frequency, a subsonic hum to them that identified them to other biotics. I would recognize Shepard's biotic frequency anywhere. "She's a beautiful ship, Commander," Shepard told me, her eyes fixed on the hull. Her dark brown hair looked like she'd already been running her fingers through it in frustration, despite the early hour. I glanced behind her at her team of misfits. The bald woman was arguing, loudly, with the icy brunette. Jacob seemed to be trying to separate them. That explained her frustration. The rest, however, were working on stowing their gear into the smallest possible containers so they'd fit in the Concord's hold under Vakarian's direction. The turian seemed to almost be a different person than the man I'd worked with over two years ago as part of Shepard's squad.

"Yes, she is, Commander." I kept my tone as polite as hers had been. I turned to her, "How long before your team is ready to board?"

She looked at me for the first time in our short conversation, "How long do you need to get settled before we invade?"

I ran over the checklist of things I needed to do immediately, "Give me an hour." She nodded and returned to her team. The minute she approached, the argument between the two women subsided and Jacob saluted her. Vakarian nodded in her direction, but continued to try to impose order on the chaos of logistics management. Intel listed Miranda Lawson, the cold looking, statuesque brunette as Shepard's XO, but I think they dropped that particular ball. Shepard, as always, made her own rules and it seems that the turian was the second in command of the first human Spectre's team. I didn't know whether to be jealous or amused.

I stood in the airlock to my ship, my new XO stood at attention, his hand up in a text-book perfect salute. "Permission to come aboard?" I asked, returning the younger man's salute. The formalities of the transfer of command had always felt silly to me, but now that I was the one in command, I could appreciate the necessity for the marking of the transfer of responsibility for these people's lives.

Staff Lieutenant Hans Harrington, still at attention, responded, "Permission granted." My new lieutenant barely looked old enough to shave, and for one brief second, he reminded me painfully of Private Richard Jenkins. "May I escort you to the bridge, sir?"

I tugged on the collar of my Alliance class "As" and replied, "Thank you, Lieutenant." The formalities continued as he walked me to the small dias in front of the galaxy map. I remembered Shepard's taking over command of the Normandy was a much less formal event. She had, after all, been the XO and there was no time for niceties with a megalomaniacal turian running around, hell-bent on destroying the galaxy. I'm fairly certain Shepard would have ignored them anyway. Every eye on the CIC deck followed our progress as each crewmember stood up from their stations and saluted. Stepping up on to the dias, I drew out my datapad and recited the orders turning the Concord over to my command. "From Admiral Steven Hackett, Fifth Fleet, Alliance Navy to Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko Alliance Navy. Sir: You are hereby directed and required to proceed aboard the SSV Concord, there to take upon yourself the duties and responsibilities of commanding officer in the service of the Alliance. Fail this charge at your peril. By order of Admiral Steven Hackett, Fifth Fleet, Alliance Navy." I turned to Lieutenant Harrington, "Lieutenant Harrington, I assume command."

"Commander," my XO replied formally, "You have command."

I stepped down off the dias, and turned to my XO, "We're about to be transporting a Council Spectre and her team. See what we have that can accommodate a drell, a krogan, a salarian, an asari, a turian, four human biotics and two normal humans. You have forty-five minutes." The lieutenant's eyes widened at each species I rattled off.

But to his credit, he didn't hesitate, "I'll see what I can do, Commander."

"Dismissed, Lieutenant." I rubbed my forehead, thinking of the next dozen things I had to do in the forty-five minutes before Shepard brought her team on board.

I looked up to find an ensign staring at me, "What is it, Ensign Wheaton?"

The young woman blinked, startled. "Sir, a turian, sir? Is that wise?"

She actually managed to surprise me with her question, "Are you questioning my decisions, Ensign?" I resisted the urge to defend Vakarian to this little racist. Two years since I'd fought with him at Shepard's back and I realized I still counted him as a friend, no matter what seemed to be between him and the woman I once, all right, still, loved.

The young woman's eyes widened and she swallowed in fear, "Uh, no, sir. I just meant – Nevermind."

I had a brief moment of appreciation for the xenophobia Shepard had had to deal with on the original Normandy. I took a page from her book and decided not to make an issue out of it, counting on proximity to the aliens to do my convincing for me. I made a mental note to have Lieutenant Harrington assign her as Shepard's liaison for the voyage. "Keep your opinions to yourself, Ensign."

"Sir, yes, sir." Irritated, I just looked at her until she hunched her shoulders, turned in her seat and went back to working on her console.

The forty-five minutes before Shepard and her team were due on board went quickly with all I had to do, I probably should have had her give me more time. As it was, I only had a brief moment to formally welcome her onboard. She, Vakarian and Tali stood in decontamination, awaiting my greeting.

"Lieutenant Commander Avery Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, Gunnery Officer Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Permission to come aboard?" Every syllable perfectly correct in its dispassion.

"Permission granted, Commander Shepard, Officer Vakarian and Engineer Tali'Zorah. Welcome aboard the SSV Concord."