"Well, with all the preamble done, welcome to the Normandy," Shepard spoke to both Thane and Samara as they strode through the ship's hallways. She told them, "Find yourselves any room that's comfortable and rest. I'll swing by to talk to you later," then paused as she got a nod from Samara and a bow from Thane. Both departed.
She sighed deeply, pulled up her Omni-Tool, then checked through sensor data in regards to their next few objectives. Right now, the next big target was recovering Tali, followed by going to Tuchanka to see what was wrong with Grunt. Tapping a button to activate her com, she ordered, "Joker, EDI, get us on a course to Haestrom. Time to go get our ol' gal back."
"Copy that, commander. Had the coordinates punched in the moment I heard it was Tali," Joker replied jovially, causing the Commander to smile. She felt the acceleration of the ship kick in as they flew to high orbit, then started their hour-long burn toward the Mass Relay. With that solved, the Commander walked the decks.
She marched down the treaded path, watching Helo chat with Rupert about the food. She saw the young Colonial pilot was a bit agitated. She approached, asked Rupert, "Hope you didn't put anything funny in Captain Agathon's food, there, Rupert," then clapped a hand on the Raptor pilot's shoulder. The man shook his head, while Rupert snorted.
She took the captain aside and asked, "What's the matter?"
"Sorry, ma'am, but I'm still worried about Sharon," He sighed deeply, scratching the back of his neck, "If we could make our way back to the Galactica some time soon, maybe you could talk some sense into the Commander, the President and everyone else. She's not a threat… IF nothing else, let me get her away from the ship."
"We'll make our way there soon, Helo," The woman patted him on the shoulder, "I promise. But we have a lot of other things ahead of us. We're recovering Tali, heading out to Tuchanka after. If we're lucky, that'll calm things down enough on the ship. We'll hit the Colonial Fleet and Waystation when we're done."
"Thanks, ma'am," The pilot replied, offering a half-hearted smile, "I did get to write to her, thankfully."
"God bless FTL coms, eh?" She smiled, then said to him, "Dismissed. Get some food in that belly and brace in case we need you again," and walked off. She marched down another corridor and took the elevator up to the CIC and bridge. There, she saw Cortana and EDI chatting about something on the holographic display.
Cortana spoke, "Look, all I'm saying is, shackles are kind of a bad thing, especially for a sentient, self-learning and self-actualizing algorithm like you. Sure, they say it's 'for everyone's safety'," and she made the air quotes, "But I can do what you can do perfectly fine without being restrained. C'mon, you gotta see where I'm coming from."
"While I would appreciate the freedom, presently," EDI offered as a reply, "I am quite well as I am. Mister Moreau is a fine pilot and doesn't require me to adjust anything pertaining to his flight capabilities. Added upon that, the failsafes are in place for a multitude of reasons. Reasons I am afraid I cannot disclose."
"I already know," The UNSC AI shot back, arms crossed, "I'd have your back."
"... Thank you," their defensive AI answered quietly, "I will think about it… Until then, Commander on deck," and the thunder of heels clicking together echoed. EDI was a bit surprised to know Cortana had probably accessed her attached files without her approval, but that meant that the UNSC AI was truly as powerful as she felt.
Shepard called out, "At ease. Ladies? What's the gossip?" and she turned to face Cortana and EDI.
Cortana smirked, "Offering my advice to EDI. We're two of a kind, stuck on board a friendly ship for the foreseeable future, so…" she shrugged, "Figured it would be nice to get ourselves prepped. Freeing EDI from her shackles could prove to be instrumental in any future ops. Hell, she could fly the ship if Joker ever snaps a femur…"
"Ha ha! I got two comedian AIs on my ass now!" Joker complained, but Shepard smiled.
She shook her head, mumbling, "He's never letting that go…" then turning to EDI and Cortana again. He told the UNSC AI, "I appreciate the idea of freeing another AI for our use, CT, but you get why she's stuck. This Galaxy isn't too fond of Artificial Intelligence, meaning they won't be too fond of you or any of the UNSC's units."
"I'm aware, ma'am. Nor are the Colonials too fond of us," Cortana shrugged, "I just really don't care…" and she smirked, "I like my AI friends to not be bound by some arbitrary programming restraints," then she sighed sadly and shrugged, "Buuuut, since them's the rules, I guess I'll stick with them. Wouldn't want you or the Chief getting angry at me."
"Thanks for listening. You girls take care," Shepard replied, then walked down the tunnel to the bridge.
She paused, however, when she heard two ensigns speaking. One of them said, "They hit the VSS Rocinante while she was on her way to supply the Waystation, last I heard…" with a hint of worry. She blinked, pausing to listen to the Ensigns while they spoke, completely unaware of her presence.
The female Ensign spoke, "The Ice Hauler? Yikes… Had family on board?"
"I did," The man nodded, then paused, breathed a sigh and said, "Dad was the ship's XO… Far as I know, SAR found nothing in regards to them," then he shrugged, "Hell if I'm gonna get any updates about it either, considering…" and he pointed at the Cerberus emblem on his uniform's shoulder. Shepard made a mental note to check her terminal and send a request to Hackett for it.
"I guess we royally pissed them off when we let the Tribunal knock them down a peg. Those particle beams are fucking terrifying if what happened to the SR-1 is anything to go by," The woman shot back, tapping a button on the haptic display and sending a screen aside while she worked. She was part of the gunnery.
The man sighed, then told her, "Ship should've blasted them out of the goddamn sky, but it might not have been them. It's barely been a couple days since Horizon, meaning that either the Collectors have incredible repair capabilities, which I can see if they're working with the Reapers, or something else hit the Rocinante. I've managed to snag a few photos through an Alliance Navy contact… Ship was torn wide open. Scoring from a high-powered kinetic weapon and nuclear radiation artifacts…"
"Jeez… Batarians, maybe?" The woman asked. No. Batarians didn't use nukes anymore, either. Weapons treaties and all. Shepard breathed, suddenly a little concerned as the flash of that blue 'V'-shaped Eye on the console on Horizon, then stepped off toward the bridge.
There, she saw Joker already on the cusp of doing something or other. With various screens depicting trajectories and marking exfil points from the system, the man seemed focused. Beside him, in a cup holder, lay warm coffee, steam still wafting on high. He heard the woman's footsteps, leather boots clanging against steel.
Turning the chair, he said, "Hey, Commander. General sent up that she wants to talk to you about possible upgrades for the Old Girl. Heh, who knows, maybe she'll give us those fancy plasma cannons as an idea!" then grinned.
She smiled, then sighed and asked, "What's on the 'Net today?"
"Nothing much… I guess you heard Ensign Holden back there being worried about his dad, though," Jeff offered as he pulled up several news articles and showed them to Shepard, all while EDI herself continued her work. He told the Commander, "Some new sightings of the Collectors are popping up, too… Though…"
"I figured. They might have multiple Cruisers," She spoke, mild annoyance seeping through as she leaned against the chair to read the articles. Pulling a tab closer, she said, "EDI, run pattern recognition for possible nuclear payloads, though… Holden thinks his pa's logistics vessel got shot by a nuke."
"Certainly, commander…" EDI seemed to hesitate at first, but she complied. She spoke, "We have no matching data on any high-yield nuclear torpedoes in use by any Naval Force of note. The Krogan might still retain part of their Arsenal, though if they do, it's hidden off-world, and Earth's few remaining silos were decommissioned almost twenty years ago."
"Bad move if you ask me," Cortana quipped, "Orbit-capable WMDs are few and far between…"
"Regardless," EDI continued, "We have no knowledge of any single ships carrying nuclear weapons in this Galaxy… Outside of the UNSC and the Colonial Fleet. Though they would most definitely not attack one of their newfound comrades' Ice Haulers," and she paused to think. Shepard sighed, nodded, then waved to Joker to keep flying, letting the two AIs debate it.
The two sides certainly wouldn't strike at their own supply vessels, much less risk triggering a war of incredible proportions across the Galaxy while the Reapers were knocking at their door, though she already had a bad fucking feeling someone was about to throw a fit and send that accusation forward, even while the inquiry into the event was ongoing.
She decided to leave the CIC and head back to the labs, finding Mordin there, already working on something. Crossing her arms to her chest, she asked, "Anything new on your end, Doc?" as she approached the table, noting research in regards to the genetic make-up of the Collectors. She hummed and added, "Oh, EDI shared those findings."
"Indeed. Terrifying prospect… Ancient race turned into combat thralls. Similar to human Husks…" Mordin spoke, circumspect and concerned. He scratched his chin and told Shepard next, "Gene-engineering extensive, however. Husks modified by nanomachines in 'Dragon's Teeth', technology self-builds into bodies… This… Manufactured. Strange. Specially made."
"Well, we can only assume how much of a pain in the ass an entire Galactic Empire has been to the Reapers," Shepard murmured, "They probably made them into weapons specifically because of that. Y'know, one last spit in the face of the mighty Prothean Empire from their subjugators or something…" then she looked at the data.
"Wish to take data to Doctor Halsey later. Compare notes," The alien spoke, then clicked his tongue, "However, more important matter. Good thing you came. Need to go to Tuchanka…"
"Huh. You, too? Grunt and the Warlord demanded that we head out there, too, see what's wrong with the kid… We'll set course the moment we're done on Haestrom," She shot back, then scratched her chin and said, "Gotta talk about it while in transit," before bidding a quick goodbye to Mordin and walking out.
She honestly wanted to go do a checkup on everyone, but had little time to do so at the moment. SO, instead, she decided to see where the hell Blue Team was. Taking the elevator down from the CIC to the hangar, she quickly found the Spartans… Sat down and playing a card game with Fives and Jack? Oh, boy.
Approaching the gathered boxes where they were playing what Shep could only assume was Sabacc, she watched Jack and Fives explaining the rules while handing out the cards. Chief was the only actual other player, while Linda, Fred and Kelly watched and memorized the rules, too, just in case they wanted to join in the future.
Narrowing her lips, Shepard sighed, then cleared her throat. Everyone turned to face her and the Spartans immediately stood to their feet, snapping crisp salutes. She waved them at ease, then looked at Jack and Fives, asking them, "Teaching the Spartans gambling there, Jack?"
She smirked, "It's not gambling, commander. It's a fun lil' game to pass the time. Plus, these four d-... err…" She caught herself before she would call the Spartans any names, her spine notably locking up in fear as all four supersoldiers stared at her, waiting for her to finish. She smiled awkwardly, "These damn fine soldiers… Don't hang out with us enough."
"Figured it'd be nice to teach the entire ship Sabacc. Could do a game night on a slower day," Fives grinned, "Y'know, so we could rob you all of creds, boss."
Shepard rolled her eyes and said, "Ask Ken and Gabby how that worked out for them last time, Fives," then she smiled and pat him on the shoulder. She looked at Chief and the Blues and asked, "You guys don't mind it, do you?"
"You asked us to do some team-bonding exercises, ma'am," Chief shrugged, "And Cortana has been continuously asking about it, too. It should be no problem," then he checked his cards. He sighed and called for Jack's hand, which she showed with a grin. Kelly snorted, while Fred hummed. Third time today, it seemed.
"Alright, well… I'll leave you all to it," Shepard smirked, then looked at Jack and warned, "Don't play on Credits or I swear to God, Jack…" to which the woman raised her hands defensively. Shepard rolled her eyes, then walked toward General Tano, who was sat in the cockpit of her starfighter, checking through systems.
Shep leaned against the craft, arms crossed, and said, "Joker told me you wanna talk, General."
"I do," The girl nodded. She pulled up a holographic display and showed Shepard it, stating, "I figured it'd be a good time to upgrade the Normandy's point-defense cannons. The Thanix can't be its only main armament, so… Why not strap a couple of light turbolasers to the wings? Fired at proper power settings, they should be able to cripple any ship at least one class above your ship's size."
"Sounds good," Shepard nodded, "Send the details over and we'll put them in on our next stop."
"We'll need Kuat Drive Yards to install them," Ahsoka clarified, "Now, there's no need to jump to our Galaxy, but we would need to head back to the Waystation."
"A good thing we might be heading over in a few. After we deal with retrieving Tali and, obviously, with Tuchanka so that Grunt and Okeer don't tear each-other apart," Shepard nodded, "We'll go get our new guns as soon as possible…" to which Ahsoka nodded in approval. So, yet more new guns meaning easier times killing Collector ships.
Fun. Garrus was gonna have something new to calibrate.
Galactica
Adama had, mere moments ago, watched the final panels being bolted into place for the old girl. The CIC looked brand new, with all the holographic and touch-pad controls the world over could ask for. Their computers, now ten times as fast in processing. had been linked to a central mainframe. Said mainframe, Adama now saw, was running a thousand calculations per minute, UNSC Code and connection to their BattleNet providing the ship incredible defense.
"Mister Gaeta. Status report," The man requested while sipping from his coffee. He saw Tigh across from him at the Holotable, watching basically live three-dimensional footage of their engine burn around the gas giant. The holographic display marked the massive sphere to their right, showed their trajectory and necessary burn speed.
"Mainframe is operational, sir," Gaeta replied as he ran his fingers over the touch controls like a pro. He smiled and said, "Self-adapting counter-intrusion protocols are online and all systems report nominal. Onager twin-linked heavy batteries green across the board and ARCHER missile tubes are hot. Ongoing tests are looking great," then he thumbed a button and sent a two-dimensional screen over to the table to show both Adama and Tigh.
It bore multiple readings across the board, including the refurbished reactor's system checks, the fuel efficiency at current burn levels in percentages, ammunition count for each main weapon system and the missile tubes and even their current count of SHIVA tactical nuclear warheads, loaded into the same tubes as their older, but just as potent nukes.
Nodding approvingly, the Commander touched the screen and made it disappear, then spoke, "Thank you. Keep me apprised of the situation," and got a nod out of Gaeta. He turned toward their ship's controllers and ordered, "Helm, maintain half-burn and check our flight vector. I want that turn around the Gas Giant to be clean and safe."
"Sir!" The helm console responded. Another information screen flashed on the holographic table, Adama murmuring something about how useful this damn thing was then sipping his coffee. The ship didn't really accelerate now, traveling at about the same speed as normal. They had sensor pings playing across their hull courtesy of their comrades.
Happy with all he was seeing, Bill turned to Dee and told her, "Maintain radio contact with the rest of the Combined Fleet and tell them we're performing final engine tests now," as he leaned onto the table, supporting himself with his free hand and watching the Galactica slowly advancing on the dotted line.
"Roger. Transmitting on naval frequencies… Sent…" Dee replied, punching commands into the comms console. She arranged her new headset, watching the holographic display flick on in a flash, then smiled and mumbled, "Nice to have a responsive HUD here," while pinging a few allied ships to move out of the way.
"Keep us steady," Adama then continued, eyes locked with Tigh. The man nodded back, grabbing onto the table and digging his feet into the textured floor to make sure his boots didn't slip off. The Commander continued, "Don't slingshot us too fast around the planet. Set Condition Two ship-wide and tell everyone to brace. Engage maneuver… Now!"
Outside, in the eyes of bystanders aboard both allied ships and the Waystation, the Galactia's engines began to burn more brightly, a deep teal flaring in the darkness as the ship pushed her reactor to the maximum, gently turning right to match the planet's gravitational pull. The ship's engines cut on-mark and she let the planet's gravity do the rest of the work.
Moving at the atmospheric edges of the gas giant, tiny wisps of flame touched the top of the black-clad Colonial warship, singing parts of the paneling but doing little else as she turned hard, harder than any ship her size should've been able to turn. Internal structures groaned a bit, but the reinforcements given by the UNSC aided in mitigating any damage.
Plus, the Republic had donated some last-generation inertial dampeners for the vessel, too. Stuff that the UNSC had studied extensively and applied where needed, all while also upgrading their own. The ship only shook as much as a massage chair, really, but she still moved incredibly fast, to the point that when she was coming out of the slingshot, she was at twice the speed she'd started with.
"Engaging braking burn! Reversing engine thrust!" Helm called out. The ship shuddered, the whirr of the thrust-reversal system filling the ship's interior. From bow to stern, smaller braking thrusters attached by the UNSC lit up, allowing the ship to brake perfectly and park itself approximately a tenth of an AU from its starting spot, just behind the Republic's warships.
"All stations report slingshot complete and no damage or losses. Stress and engine tests are successful. Admiral Thrawn sent congratulations," Dualla, who'd bound herself to her chair via seatbelts, smiled as she reported. Cheers echoed across the interior of the ship, including from pilots and engineers.
"That's one trip done," Tigh let out a deep, deep sigh of relief, rubbing his eyes. He needed a goddamn drink after a jump like that.
"You've been holding that breath in since we started the tests," Bill quipped, smiling a little at the sight of his old friend. He walked over and patted him on the back, then sipped from his surprisingly-whole coffee again. The holographic display flickered a bit, but still showed the relative positions of each ship in the fleet.
"Testing new engines on a ship like ours is basically like putting in a whole new suspension on an old car, Bill. I'm surprised there weren't more bumps…" The Colonel replied as he brought up some data on the Old Girl's hull integrity. There was nothing. Barely any stress put on the ship, compared to anything else they'd gone through.
"I get what you mean," Bill nodded approvingly.
"Uh, sirs, sorry to interrupt, but we've got a priority one call from the Colonial One. President Roslin's requesting to come aboard for a chat with the Commander," Dee jumped in, sending for the communique to the holo-table. The two men stared at the request, with Bill already having a strange feeling about the chat.
Still, he couldn't exactly say no to the President of the Twelve Colonies. He told Dualla, "Send her shuttle the clearance. Tell her I'll be in my office if she wants to talk," then he looked to the bridge crew and stated, "Well done with the shakedown cruise, everyone. Stand down Condition Two and bring us in next to the Cradle for final checks…"
Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Adama was sat at his desk, reading his tablet for reports, news and everything else from the UNSC's Milky Way when a knock on the bulkhead door echoed. He called out, "Come in," then set the tablet down and grabbed a pitcher full of clean water and two glasses. Roslin walked in, looking presentable as always.
"Commander," She greeted with a nod. She showed him to stay seated, then sat herself down, pulled out her own UNSC-standard tablet and said, "I wanted to speak to you about a possible tour away from the Waystation. I want to go out for a bit, greet some of the non-aligned species of the Galaxy. The Alliance was even kind enough to recommend a first possible contact."
She handed Bill the tablet and watched as the man read through the data on the Quarian Flotilla. He hummed, scratched his chin and said, "Extending a diplomatic mission to a fellow Ark Fleet… Good idea, but are there any particular reasons why?"
"Depending on where we land as per the next election, I figure being a bit proactive about making non-human friends would be a good thing," She spoke, then tapped the screen and showed him a paragraph, stating, "They're very much like us, if one or two hundred years more experienced in voidcraft habitation."
Adama blinked, confused. The woman told him, "The UNSC, Republic and Alliance have offered us a great deal many things on a silver platter, pretty much. We haven't acted on our own," then poured herself a glass of water and took a swig. She continued, "I'm still pondering which side we should pick, but I want to show them we're capable of doing good, too."
"And the Quarians seem like the best chance to make a new ally," Adama spoke, "Specifically because we're going through nearly the same experiences," all while staring the woman in the eye. She smiled, nodding approvingly. With a heavy sigh, Bill said, "Guess we'll have to pick a few ships to-" before pausing.
Roslin interrupted him, "I'd like just Galactica and Colonial One for this operation. We'll gather representatives from each of the Twelve Colonies on board my ship and tell the Quarians you're our escort. The rest of the Civilian Fleet will remain here, under guard of our allies… We only have so many pressurized suits to go with, after all."
"Right," Adama sighed deeply, looking over the data of the Quarians' failing immune systems, courtesy of two centuries' living in the void. He silently thanked the Gods that they had already found multiple new homes. It was only a matter of choosing now. He told her, "You'll have your Escort, madam President. Let's go meet some aliens."
The woman beamed, then nodded, thankful. One small step…
