Chapter 2 – Orientation

A/N: Chapter 2! Except the laptop and a few OCs, I do not own a single property. Everything else belongs to Bioware.
Trigger Warning: contains personal insults, "torture"

SSV Normandy SR-2, Alliance Naval Docks, 2186 CE

"Rations – check. Thermal clips – check. N7 Valkyrie rifles – How many ya got over there?" Joy asked as she ticked the items off her checklist.

"We've got a hundred and twenty of them. Enough to arm the entire ship if we get boarded." Westmoreland replied. She opened a crate to check the condition of the weapons. She heaved one of the N7s out and looked down its sight. "Definitely more than we need if we spend another day in the docks."

Both female Marines chuckled as they carried on with their itinerary. The statement had been made sarcastically. They both knew that this week was the last before they shipped out. Orders had just come down from Alliance High Command to go on the alert. Joy had spent the last six months grounded on Earth, immediately after Shepard had surrendered herself to Anderson. She knew the rest of Shadow was dying to go on operations. The last thing any Marine wanted was to sit around and stare at paint dry on the walls.

Sure as hell beat being stuck doing escort duty for the Councillor on the Citadel. She couldn't stand being around politicians.

"Okay, a hundred and twenty." The datapad beeped in response. "All stores in check. We're ready to kill some batarians. Hey, Beth. Who do you think is gonna take command of the Normandy?"

"Probably Anderson. He was supposed to take command of this ship back in 2183 before it got transferred to Shepard," Westmoreland grunted as she returned the rifle to its crate.

"Ah, so we're gonna be Anderson's personal POG detail. God, kill me. I don't want another year of this." Joy sighed as she put the datapad back on to the table and clutched her nose. Her thoughts drifted to her time on the Citadel standing outside Anderson and Udina's office. The hours she spent there not being able to get a drink would kill her again. She hoped that the rumors were false and that Vega's brief the previous week on shock operations would turn out to be true. She wanted to see some action.

A deep voice behind her jolted her out of her seat. "If god wanted you to stay alive, Corporal, he wouldn't have put your ass in my platoon."

Joy and Westmoreland turned around to see two men walking up the shuttle bay's hatch. They saw their platoon sergeant, Goggins, as well as another companion. Westmoreland had privately joked that Goggins' bald head was brighter than her future. Out of his earshot, of course.

Next to Goggins was a Chinese man. His hair was cut into the standard jarhead haircut. There were clear battle scars on his left temple from when a round singed his head. He was about six feet tall and carried a duffel bag. His uniform had a whole list of patches on it. Joy was impressed when she saw the 'recon' tab on his left shoulder. She knew guys who had gone through the Alliance's recon school on Okinawa who had described it as hell on Earth.

"Who's the Boot?" Westmoreland asked and nodded at the new Marine. Not a second later did Goggins face her. His eyes were practically bulging out of its sockets, and he leaned back to unleash a firestorm on her.

"The 'Boot', Private Westmoreland, is Private Lee. Can you not see the 'recon' tab, you sizzle-dick motherfucker? Huh? He's been through a harder hell than both you maggots could've ever dreamed of combined. Show the man some fuckin' respect or I'll shove my size elevens up your ass," Goggins chewed her out as Westmoreland bristled. Spit flew out of his mouth and showered down on her. "You know what? Since you want to meet the Boot so bad, why don't you show him where he's crashing?"

Joy interrupted the sergeant. "If it's fine with you, Goggins, I'll bring him to the crew quarters. I got to change for platoon PT anyway."

Goggins turned and stared at her. If there's one thing that she and Westmoreland agreed on, it was that Goggins had that stare that looked as though he was going to steal your soul. His eyes bore into her as though he were a computer rapidly calculating the terminal velocity he needed his fists to travel to send her through the Sol relay. Joy, however, stood her ground.

"So fuckin' be it. You better show him around the place properly because if he doesn't know where the fuckin' head is, it's your ass. Westmoreland, I'm watching you, motherfucker." Goggins glared at Westmoreland before spinning around and strolling back down the shuttle bay. The three marines were silent until Westmoreland and Joy burst out laughing with the Boot staring at them.

Joy extended her hand out to the Boot while wiping away her tears with the other. "Sorry about that, Beth's got a bad rap with Goggins. He'll drive you up the wall with his 'standards' but he's good at his job. I'm Corporal Lucy Joy. Done about eight years, seven of them with 2nd Marines and one on the Citadel, but don't think I'm obsolete because I've got no desire to retire yet."

She chuckled at her own little joke. The Boot didn't crack. Joy started to feel awkward while he looked down at her hand. She could see that he also had that same stare that Goggins did. He reached out slowly and shook her hand with a strong force, almost yanking it out of her socket.

"I'm Private Harry Lee," Lee said as he retracted his hand. "Served in the 232 and 1st Recon. I've done about five years in the Corps and now I'm here."

Joy was a bit stunned at this revelation. If Lee had not opened his mouth, she would have assumed he was fresh out of Recon School, not someone who had seen action with 1st Recon. He looked young.

"Nice to meet you, Lee. Follow me. We'll put your stuff down in the crew quarters."

Joy and Lee started to walk towards the lift. On the way, she looked back at Westmoreland. The little bitch mouthed the words 'he's hot', to which she replied with a middle finger as the lift doors closed.

"So… the Normandy, huh? Have you met Shepard?" Lee asked as the lift trundled up towards the crew deck. The ship was definitely not what he expected so far. It was… blue. Most Alliance ships he had served on had terrible lighting, but this ship felt much brighter than the others. He noticed the lift had some wirings pulled out from its control panel as though an engineer had left it in the middle of fixing it.

"Yeah. I was part of the detail that arrested her when she turned herself in. Still see her sometimes when Vega takes my squad on escort duty. I'm guessing she isn't sleeping well because she looks absolutely wasted." Joy replied She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair back under her beret. "Anyway, I'm fireteam 1's leader. There're three fireteams in one platoon and three platoons altogether in Shadow."

Joy flashed her hands towards the lift controls as though she was a flight attendant. "All the need-to-know locations are written here, so don't get lost. Ship's pretty easy to navigate, but you're recce trained so you shouldn't get lost anyway. Haha."

The lift reached the crew deck and both marines got out. Loose wiring was all over the place, showing signs that the ship was undergoing a retrofit. Lee stopped in front of the memorial wall while Joy continued walking down the hallway. Only after a second did she stop and turn around.

He started reading off the names of the dead. "Pressly, Bakari, Draven… damn. Were they all killed on the first Normandy?"

Joy shook her head. "You'd be correct, but the exception on the wall is Kaiden Alenko. He was killed on Shepard's mission on Virmire. Stayed behind to guard the nuke which blew up Saren's facility."

"I hope he took as many of the flashlights as he could with him. Did you know him?"

Joy shook her head again which caused another strand of hair to fall out of her beret. "No, Shadow only came on after the ship was impounded by the Alliance. The pilot - or ex-pilot - Joker knew him. Used to be his co-pilot back on the SR-1." She pressed the button to open the door to the crew quarters. "You'll meet him soon if we're escorting him onto the ship. Damn VI refuses to listen to anyone but him." She paused, letting the fact that the ship had a non-respondent VI sink in. "There'll be time for history class later. Come on, meet the rest of the boys."

Lee entered the room and saw several marines clustered inside. Some of them were playing cards on the table, probably poker. Others were lying in their cots either fiddling with their firearms or on tablets. There was even one of them practicing his knifing skills against another marine. Both shirtless men were grappling each other with the knife getting awfully close to each other's throats. The sound of old-school music from the twentieth century filtered through the air. Lee recognized it as the classic 'Don't Worry Be Happy'. Joy put both hands on her hips and yelled.

"Hey, boys! FRESH FUCKIN' MEAT!"

All the Marines in the bunk turned towards the two of them. Before Lee could react, Joy kicked him in the back as the two previously grappling marines on the floor jumped up, grabbed his arms, and shoved him onto the table. The other Marines started hollering, a few of them chanting 'brand' while others quickly joined the rump. Even though he was an elite recon marine, Lee could not throw off the dog pile that was squashing him into the table. Through the chaos, he noticed one of them, a Hispanic marine, turn on a blowtorch which he used to heat up a brand. It was clearly twisted into a shape that resembled the word 'SHADOW'. Lee felt the waistband of his pants get pulled down which exposed a buttcheck to the cooled air of the Normandy.

"NO NO NO NO NOOO," Lee screamed before pushing down on the table. He was still trapped beneath the dog pile as the brand started getting closer to him. Someone nailed him in the face with a punch when he started succeeding in his attempt to get up. Bracing himself for the pain, he clenched his eyes when he heard Joy whistle and yell out over the chaos.

"Alright, that's enough, boys. Let him up."

The Marines started laughing as they let Lee up. Unsure if it was a trap, Lee immediately assumed a fighting position with both his arms in front of his face ready to take a swing at anyone who came up to him. There was laughter all around the room as Joy walked up to him with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"You have to earn the right to be branded. Even I don't have it. Only the boys in second platoon have it and that's 'cuz they were on the Citadel when the geth attacked." She giggled to the point where Lee could not see her eyes. "Welcome to Shadow Company. Crazy fucker with the knife is 'Scots' Doyle and the bloke with the brand is 'Speedy' Gonzalez. You already met Bethany Westmoreland in the shuttle bay. They're part of my fireteam. Seeing as we're missing our fifth man, I'm guessing you're it."

Doyle laughed and grabbed Lee's hand with a massive paw. "She's right, ya know. I never thought I'd be able to take on a recon marine, but I did." He practically yelled this into Lee's ear with a thick Glaswegian accent. On his right shoulder was a tattoo of a circle with a lion inside. 'Rangers F.C.' was written underneath it. He extended his hand out towards Lee. "Sorry for the surprise, lad, but it's tradition to fuck with the boots."

Lee's hand was hurting but he didn't show it. Gonzalez came from behind him and slapped his shoulder. He was tall and bald but had a lanky build. He reminded Lee of the corn stalks that the colonists had planted on Eden Prime.

"Goggins hates it when we do it. Hijo de puta says no one likes to get branded. Personally, I think he's had one on his ass but used some weird asari magic to get rid of it. Probably the same kind that Scots' people were practicing when they were fucking their sheep," Gonzales said.

"Ya know it's okay if you think Goggins is hot, but in your case, I'd make an exception," Doyle started walking up to Gonzalez. He flexed his chest muscles and appeared to dwarf the shirtless marine.

"Back off, you goddamn drunk," Gonzales replied as he squared up to the lumbering Scotsman. "It makes my heart heavy to see the white race sink as low as your mother has when the puta madre sells her ass to some sumbitch behind the tiddy bar she works at. At least if she was Mexican, she'd be ashamed of herself." Lee felt squashed between the two giants.

"OOOOOOH, Sc-rewby," Joy interjected.

All three Marines started laughing rambunctiously and began tapping each other on the shoulder in a sort of play-fight. Inside, Lee was silently laughing: If there was one thing he missed, it would be the comradely attitude of 1st Recon. He had discovered early on in his 1st Recon days that the key to bonding was, well, incessant stupidity. Most other units would stomp out this kind of thing in the name of discipline, but clearly, Vega – who he assumed was Shadow's CO - didn't mind it as long as no one got hurt.

Well, he did get a bloody nose from the experience, so maybe a bit of pain was allowed.

"This bunk is empty. I'm sleeping on top of you. Hope you don't mind my snoring," Joy pointed out to Lee who then heaved his stuff onto the bed. "Meals are served at 0530, 1200, and 1830 but the bar in the lounge is usually stocked with drinks, including some of the alcoholic variety. Don't get wasted on the alcohol or Goggins will have our guts for garters and ban it again. On a personal note, keep your snacks secured: this ship has more thieves than a vorcha's den." She looked up at a display on the wall. "We have PT in about an hour but other than that, there isn't much to do until we ship out."

"So I see," Lee responded as the other marines went back to what they were doing. "Where're you from, if you don't mind me asking."

Joy chuckled. She jumped onto the top bunk and looked down at Lee. He started unpacking his stuff. Lee saw her glance at the big hunting knife that had been presented to him during his graduation from Recon School.

"Spacer. I was born on the SSV Einstein. My dad was a naval pilot and mom was a scientist. I don't know how an aviator and an egghead got together, but they did. They're retired but mom makes money on the Citadel selling VIs and all kinds of shit and dad stills consults for the navy. I did alright, I guess." She scratched her nose. "I attended college on Illium. Could've got a commission but since I was a kid, I wanted to be a grunt. Can't stand officers."

Lee laughed in response. "Your rich, huh? I also had the grades to go to uni, but I headed straight for the Corps."

"Nah, I'm not rich but my parents are. I can remember when my dad found out about my enlistment." She put on a mocking tone. "Enlist in the Marines? Are you crazy? No, Lucy, don't do it. Nobody likes a damn jarhead. I'm guessing he had a Marine steal his girlfriend or something."

"Is your callsign 'Joy' by the way, or is that your real name?" Lee asked as he took out a photo – a proper photo – of his old 3rd Guards buddies. He tacked it onto the wall next to his bunk.

"Nah, my callsign's something dumber. You'll find out soon, but that's if anyone uses it around me. So, tell me, Lee: How does a recon marine end up on the SR-2?"

Lee pulled out a chair and sat down next to his bunk. He looked up at Joy who had taken off her beret.

"Well, it's a long story…"

Joy snorted. "Do I look like I've anything else to do? Come on, spit it out."

Alliance Headquarters, 2 hours later.

There was a kid running around downstairs with an Alliance model fighter. Shepard looked down at him. She envied him for a multitude of reasons. One was that he didn't know about the threat of the reapers. There was an innocence to being a child. She just hoped they were ready to fight them when the time came.

The other reason was that he was experiencing a little dose of what she currently lacked: Freedom. She had been stuck in the same room for the last six months. The only time she ever had freedom was when she was allowed to use the gym twenty-three floors down. She was grateful for the hot food, warm showers, and soft beds after working with Cerberus.

Cerberus. The very name of the organization sent shudders down her spine. Her whole life she had fought for the unification of the galaxy even at humanity's cost, such as when she sent the Alliance fleet to protect the Destiny Ascension. All that hard work of getting humanity into the Council's books down the drain because of her association with the Illusive Man.

Just one more thing to add to a whole list of regrets, like not being able to save Kaiden…

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door to her room unlocked. She turned to see James Vega enter the room. The man was dressed in barebones attire which consisted of pants with an Alliance T-shirt.

"Commander," Vega said as he gave a crisp salute.

"You're not supposed to call me that anymore, James," Shepard replied.

"Too much respect, ma'am. Come on, Defence Committee wants to see you."

He barely gave Shepard time before jogging back into the hallway. His speedy nature bared a stark contrast to his usual joyful mood. Shepard immediately picked up on this and followed him into the hallway. She saw numerous soldiers and Marines running around. Some were handling weapons while others were heard discussing the status of their men with their respective commanders. She let out a small smile when she recognised one of the men.

"Lieutenant Vega, I can take her from here. Get Joker back to the Naval Docks and ready the Normandy," Admiral Anderson ordered. Vega snapped a salute and started running towards the lift.

"Anderson. Good to see you, sir," Shepard said. She reached out to him.

Anderson immediately shook her hand. He used his other hand to pat her shoulder. They both started walking to the room that housed the Defense Committee. "You look good, Shepard. Shit's hit the fan: The Lunar colonies just went dark, and Arcturus stopped talking to us a few hours ago."

"Is it the reapers?"

"We don't know, but I think it is," Anderson grimaced as they walked up a flight of stairs. An officer running the other way tripped and fell, but everyone was busy in their own rush to help.

"You know we're not ready to deal with them. None of the galaxy is," Shepard muttered. They stood in front of two Marines waiting for their identities to be confirmed by the system. One of them swept them with his omni-tool to confirm they didn't have weapons.

"That's why you need to speak to the Committee. You're our resident expert on the reapers. Hell, you spoke to Sovereign, then blew it up. You've seen their harvesting, the Collector Base, indoctrination, all of it. They'll listen to you."

"So why'd they ground me? Take my ship? Refuse to reinstate me? Let the SAIS interro-"

For the first time in four years, Anderson turned to Shepard with a look of frustration and interrupted her. "You and I both know why. Working with Cerberus was just the icing on the cake. Anyone else and they would've been shot over the charges against you. Hundreds of thousands of batarians died when you sent that asteroid into the relay, for god's sake." He paused when he saw the look of hurt on her face. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he continued. "I know why you did it, but they don't. Now's your chance. Make them understand."

The doors finally swung open, and the two Marines let the pair in. The room was large, with its natural lighting being provided by a floor-to-ceiling window behind the board where the Committee sat. Several screens were displaying transmissions from cities around the world. The Defence Committee was too busy to notice Shepard and Anderson's arrival. Four Marines stood around them with M-3 Predators. Shepard could clearly see several Sovereign-class ships touching down and releasing husks into the world. The cities… London, New York, Rio, Singapore, Beijing… The casualty list must have been in the thousands at this point. She felt an overriding sense of guilt bearing down on her. All those humans, gone... turned to husks... or melted into paste...

"Shepard." She finally snapped back to the Committee when one of the Admirals addressed her. "Can you tell us what these… things are?"

"You already know what they are: It means the reapers are here. It means they've begun their harvest of the human species, and they will not stop. Not in a week, not in a month, until they finish cleansing the entire galaxy of all of us."

Another member of the Committee, a Colonel, looked defeated. She ran her hands through her head. "What can we do? We're getting reports that parliament's been wiped out. The batarians are apparently on their way to extinction..."

Shepard stuck her finger at the screens. She had enough of the defeatist attitude that was already filtering through the ranks. If this got out to the rest of the fleet, then the battle was already over. "Don't you get it? We throw everything we have against them. Asari, turian, salarian, human, even the volus if we have to. It's simple: We all fight, or we die."

Suddenly, the floor started shaking. Everyone in the room looked towards the window. Dark shadows had started to form amongst the clouds without them realizing. One of the Admirals slowly approached the window to get a better view when a beam cut through the window, melting him down into a pile of ashes. The rest of the Committee barely had time to react before thousands of glass fragments were sent into them. Both Anderson and Shepard quickly hit the floor as the table was flung across the room and smashed into a Marine.

It became quiet right after that. Shepard slowly pushed herself off the floor and surveyed her surroundings. It was dark from both the smoke filling the room and the lights having all been popped out. The screens flickered as the emergency electrical supply slowly kicked in but there was nothing to show except for static. A fire had broken out near the window. Everyone on the Defense Committee was either vaporized or shredded. Two of the Marines were gone. One of them had a chunk ripped out of his abdomen. The other was unrecognizable from the top portion of his head mission from his body.

The sole unharmed trooper was crouched over his colleague who had been hit with the table. He was frantically administering medi-gel while screaming through his radio for a medevac. Anderson was trying to reach the Normandy, but something was jamming his connection. She grabbed two pistols off the floor and crouched next to the Marine. He looked up at her.

In an instant, Shepard was transported back to the Skyllian Blitz. The Marine reminded her of one of the her fellow shock troops who were stationed on Elysium when the batarians attacked. His head turned to mush when a round made contact with the side of his helmet. Screams suddenly filled her head as she imagined piles of corpses surrounding her as the batarians opened fired indiscriminately. Only the Marine's yelling at her snapped her back to reality.

"I got him. GO! GET OUT OF HERE!"

She ran towards the window and jumped out onto a platform below. Vancouver was getting hammered. Several reapers were already present as they sent their beams across the city at skyscrapers. She could hear the screams of the Vancouver population beneath her as gunfire erupted through the streets. Gardens were burning and buildings that demonstrated the height of human civilisation tumbled downwards. Amongst the kilometer-tall reapers slowly trudging their way in the distance, she recognised one of them. It had been six months since she had seen a hologram of him on that asteroid, but it was definitely him...

Harbinger.

Anderson leapt down onto the platform next to her. She tossed one of the pistols to him. As he checked his gun, he gesticulated towards the west side of Vancouver. Smoke was brewing in the distance as an Alliance dreadnought moved to engage a reaper.

"We've got to get to the Normandy. Naval Docks are that way. We'll take a shortcut across these rooftops. COME ON!"

A/N: I'll be moving back to the UK to study next week, so there won't be a chapter. I'll try and get chapter 3 done by the 9th of September.
The entire roasting of Scots was taken out of episode 1 of Generation Kill, and yes there is a scene like that from the book.