The Lion of Elysium I
Twenty orbital defense platforms, one hundred and thirteen warships, including an Everest-class dreadnought, from the formidable 8th Fleet, and a dedicated sensor relay system. Few colonies could rival the sheer military presence of Reach. It was not just a colony; it was the beating heart of humanity's martial prowess. If Arcturus Station was the brain of human military operations, then Reach was its iron-clad fist.
The Reach Naval Shipyard was a marvel of engineering, carved directly into the face of a sheer cliff that loomed over miles of arid desert. Here, the lifeblood of the Systems Alliance Navy - corvettes, frigates, destroyers, and light cruisers - took shape. Each vessel spent months in construction before being launched skyward via powerful boosters. Once in low orbit, they underwent final outfitting at Laika (Laika Space Station and Recruitment Training Command), where weapon systems were installed, hull integrity was verified, and last-minute calibrations were performed.
On the ground, Reach hosted some of the most demanding training facilities in the entire Systems Alliance. The most infamous of them all was The Gauntlet, the N-school that forged the Alliance's most elite warriors. Officially designated as a Special Forces Training Academy, it was the sister institution to the original Rio de Janeiro facility. Spanning fifty acres of dense forest, its campus was an unforgiving labyrinth of tightly packed structures, brutal obstacle courses, and combat simulators. Those who passed through its gates earned their N vocation, marking them as part of an elite fraternity within the Systems Alliance military. From there, only the best of the best ascended through the ranks, striving toward the coveted N7 designation, a title reserved for the finest special forces operatives in human space.
Further out, in the vast, windswept valley between two mountain ranges, lay Hell's Forge, the legendary training ground of the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers (ODSTs). This sprawling boot camp was designed to harden recruits into warriors capable of surviving the deadliest battlefields in the galaxy. Its vast training fields included a specialized landing zone, the designated impact site for practice orbital insertions. It was a place where recruits learned firsthand the sheer chaos of high-velocity deployment, where drag-chutes, retro-thrusters, and luck were the only things standing between them and a violent end.
For those just beginning their military careers, Reach offered a variety of rigorous entry points. Camp Issus served as the primary boot camp for the Systems Alliance Army, while Camp Texel hardened recruits for the Systems Alliance Marine Corps. Meanwhile, Laika doubled as the naval recruit training center, ensuring every branch of the military had its foundation firmly rooted in Reach.
Tucked away in the shadowed recesses of the mountain range, hidden from even the most prying of eyes, lay the Systems Alliance Intelligence Services (SAIS) black site. A location so secretive that its security protocols rivaled those of Arcturus Station. This was the clandestine heart of humanity's most classified operations. It was also the birthplace of the Spartans, a program shrouded in secrecy, where select individuals underwent years of intensive training to become something far beyond ordinary soldiers.
Reach wasn't just a proving ground for individuals, it was a bastion of organized military might. At its core were Fort Bonaparte and Fort Subutai, two massive army bases that anchored the interconnected grid of military installations. Between them, they housed a mechanized infantry division, two armored brigade combat teams, a Systems Alliance Army Air Force (SAAAF) fighter wing, and a special operations aviation regiment. These bases ensured that Reach remained a strategic fortress, capable of rapid deployment in the event of war.
And then, there was Drescher Military Academy, the cradle of future leaders. Here, cadets were trained to become officers within the Systems Alliance Army (SAA), the Systems Alliance Marine Corps (SAMC), and the Systems Alliance Navy (SAN). More than just a school, Drescher was a proving ground where the minds and spirits of humanity's next great commanders were tempered; their resolve tested through relentless drills, war games, and leadership challenges.
It was on the football pitch of DMA, where a few hundred cadets stood in their dress uniforms, hats tucked under their arms. A grand stage stood in front of the cadets, where important navy officers and politicians sat. The surrounding stands were packed with family members who had made the trip.
"Graduating class of 2180 re-cover!"
As one, hats were placed back on the heads of the hundreds of cadets.
"Graduating class of 2180, dismissed!"
The caps that were seconds ago placed on heads, were yanked off and tossed into the air with a mighty cheer.
Vice Admiral Maria Gilland's petite frame did not detract from the sheer force of will that hung about her like a cape. Even the most hardened officers found themselves straightening their posture in her presence. As the highest-ranking naval officer at the academy, the Naval Superintendent, her reputation preceded her, and every cadet knew to offer her the respect she commanded. Those who failed to do so often found their careers cut short before they had truly begun, leaving Reach with their tails between their legs and tears in their eyes.
"Unlike the rest of the graduates, you will be commissioned as a Junior Lieutenant," she informed the newly minted officer standing before her desk, her voice crisp, devoid of any room for discussion.
Alexander Shepard stood at rigid attention, every inch of his tall, broad-shouldered frame locked straight. His amber-hazel eyes, shifting between gold and green under the overhead lights, remained locked forward. His dirty blond curls were buzzed at the sides and longer on top, but still within military regulations. There was a natural authority in the way he carried himself; his presence commanded attention without the need for words.
Shepard was the most recent darling of the Systems Alliance after his actions on Elysium had made him a hero in the eyes of the galaxy. With nothing but grit, strategy, and raw biotic power, he had rallied both Alliance personnel on shore leave and terrified civilians, organizing an effective defense against the onslaught of pirates, mercenaries, and batarian infantry. At one point, he had single-handedly held off waves of enemy soldiers, buying precious time for others to reach safer ground. They called him the Lion of Elysium, a name that inspired awe and admiration. The Alliance brass, eager to parade their new hero, sent him on a victory tour across the outer systems, his presence a propaganda tool as much as a medal of honor. By the time his tour was complete, the bloodbath at Torfan had already come and gone, and Shepard was being sent to Drescher Military Academy to become a CO.
In his mind, however, the accolades and the title meant little. Shepard had envisioned a different path for himself; one in navigation aboard a warship, where he could earn his way up the ranks on his own terms, first as a navigation officer, then an XO, and finally, one day commanding a ship of his own through skill and experience rather than fame. It had been a battle just to convince Alliance Command to allow him to pursue such a career, given that biotics were almost exclusively funneled into the Marine Corps for frontline combat. Before Elysium he had recently been assigned to assist with navigations on the SSV Cape Town, and if he was lucky it would have led to a letter of recommendation to military academy. Now, after proving himself in the fires of war, he had gotten his in for military academy but everything after that was being taken out of his hands.
"You are also being put through an interservice transfer to the Marine Corps," Gilland continued, her tone making it clear that this was not a discussion but a final decree. "You are being assigned to the Blue Knights—the Knight Platoon of the 4th Fleet."
Without even a whimper, the Lion of Elysium had found his career path altered before his very eyes. He was a newly commissioned officer in the Alliance Navy who now found himself a jarhead.
The rest of the cadets were off celebrating their graduation in New Alexandria, the sprawling city that sat in the middle of all the military bases and camps. A lot of them would be with their families who had made the trip from Earth or one of the colonies. Shepard didn't have any family to celebrate with. His parents had been killed during the war almost ten years ago, during the brutal first weeks on Mindoir. He barely knew either of his parents' families back on Earth; his father's from the United Kingdom and his mother's from the East African Federalization. None of them made an effort to even see him after Mindoir, and he had spent six years at an orphanage on Eden Prime before enlisting, so as far as he was concerned he had no family left. As for enjoying the moment with friends, while he could say he had some acquaintances in the academy, there was no one he would say he was particularly close to.
Besides, his first official order as a commissioned officer, sent to his omni-tool shortly after leaving Vice Admiral Gilland's office, was to arrive at the Gauntlet tomorrow morning at 0900. Rather than join in the revelry the others were indulging in that would no doubt see him out to the late hours of night and have him hungover and sluggish in the morning, he went back to his room. He didn't have much to pack in his rucksack and was easily able to adhere to the "only bring what can fit in a single foot locker" policy that all marines and naval personnel who weren't the ships CO or XO had to follow.
After triple checking that he had everything he would need packed, he made his way to the mess hall for dinner. Except he was directed to the mess hall of the marine section of the academy. The cadets for both graduated today, marines in the morning and navy in the afternoon, and with almost all of the newly commissioned officers being out in New Alexandria, there was no need to have both kitchens open.
There were only a handful of others eating, but he did not recognize any of them and didn't feel like making last minute friends. Forty minutes later and he was back in his room. It wasn't even 1800 local time and he was already in for the night; the only night of freedom he had in a year. On his omni-tool he pulled up a book on Operation Shieldbreaker; the name given to the Migrant Fleet's, with the help of a couple thousand human volunteers, legendary push to liberate Tiptree, Mindoir, and Terra Nova. Three hours later, not even a quarter of the way through the book, and he turned off the lights for bed.
At 0900 the next day, Alexander Shepard stepped through the main entrance of The Gauntlet, the elite special forces school that loomed before him like a fortress. Its stark, utilitarian architecture gave of an aura of quiet menace, a place where only the best survived. He wore his physical training uniform, sweatpants, t-shirt, and running shoes, with his rucksack on his back. Waiting for him just beyond the threshold was Captain Liu Xiang, an unassuming figure at first glance. Liu stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his forearms crisscrossed with scars, veins bulging beneath his skin. He wasn't a particularly large man, but every inch of him was muscle, honed through years of combat.
Shepard snapped to attention and delivered a crisp salute.
"Captain!"
Liu's dark eyes swept over him, taking in every detail with a cold, appraising stare. His lips pursed in obvious displeasure.
"Junior Lieutenant Alexander Shepard," he said at last, voice flat.
After a pause, he returned the salute, and Shepard dropped his hand, remaining perfectly still under the Captain's scrutiny.
"Against my better judgment, Alliance Command has assigned you as my second-in-command for the Blue Knights. Why they think a tin-can sailor is a better fit than an honest-to-god Marine, I have no fucking clue," Liu said bluntly, his voice laced with irritation. "What I do know is that every officer in a Knight platoon is, at minimum, an N1. A designation you don't have."
The Captain began circling Shepard, his measured steps slow and deliberate, a predator sizing up its prey. Shepard kept his face neutral, refusing to react to the challenge.
"Unlucky for you, you're the golden boy of the Systems Alliance," Liu continued, a mocking edge to his voice. "And being the golden boy comes with certain privileges, like skipping the standard fifteen-week N1 training and jumping straight into the N1 Field Test. One shot. Pass, and you stay. Fail, and you're out. Simple."
Shepard absorbed the information without reaction, but inwardly, his stomach clenched. If he could not pass the test, then he would have to enroll properly in the N1 training. If that were to happen, a new second in command would be assigned to the Blue Knights, and Shepard would receive a new assignment, depending on which opening was available once the fifteen weeks were up. Assuming he passed the field test after those fifteen weeks that is.
The test had three parts, all designed to weed out anyone not mentally, physically, and tactically superior.
The first was a grueling QA session testing everything from Systems Alliance military doctrine and special forces protocols to demolitions and battlefield tactics.
The second was a physical fitness test that involved doing as many pushups as possible in two minutes, as many pull-ups as possible in two minutes, holding a plank for two minutes, a three mile run in under thirty minutes, and then a ten mile foot march with a 35 pound rucksack. All of that without any break in between.
And the third was a combat proficiency test, undertaken while completely exhausted. Shepard would have to demonstrate deadly accuracy with both an assault rifle and pistol, along with proving he could properly throw a grenade, which apparently was not something every recruit could do.
There were minimum requirements he was supposed to meet for everything but no one would tell him what those requirements were.
When the details were laid out before him, he turned to the evaluator, an N7 veteran who looked like he could still run a marathon in full combat gear despite being well into his fifties.
"That's only for level one?" Shepard asked, eyes wide. "What the hell do you have to do for N7?"
The only response was a smirk from both the tester and Captain Liu.
Liu raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"
"Not really, sir," Shepard muttered.
"Begin."
Bang!
The dull explosion of the dummy grenade was the most beautiful sound Alexander Shepard had ever heard.
He collapsed onto his back, chest heaving, his entire body numb. Every muscle screamed in protest, sweat-soaked fatigue wrapping around him like a heavy shroud. He had lost count of how many obstacles he had crawled through, how many times his arms had threatened to give out, how many moments he had come close to collapse.
He didn't know how long he sat on the ground but before he could process it, Captain Liu stood before him. Shepard looked up into the expectant eyes of the Captain. With an involuntary groan he climbed back to his feet and gave as crisp of a salute as he could manage.
"At ease, Junior Lieutenant," Liu said, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, the hint of a smirk. "Congratulations. you are now an N1. Looks like we might be able to make a Marine out of you yet."
Shepard slowly nodded his head, too tired for words.
"You have all your gear?"
"Yes sir." He said the words as if they pained him.
"Good." Liu gestured to a landing pad. "There's a shuttle waiting to take us to the SSV Denali. The 4th Fleet's repairs are nearly complete, and we've got a new mission."
Suppressing a groan, Shepard made his way to where he had dropped his rucksack at the start of the test and hoisted it onto his shoulders. He followed Captain Liu to the landing pad, stepping onto the waiting shuttle. The moment he collapsed into a seat at the back, exhaustion overtook him, and he barely moved a muscle for the entire ascent into orbit. It was all he could do not to fall asleep right then and there.
The SSV Denali was an Everest-class dreadnought, a massive warship nearly twice the size of a standard cruiser. Shepard had dreamed of stepping foot on a ship like this his entire life. If he had his way, he would be in the CIC minutes after landing, examining the navigation systems, discussing star charts with the ship's helm. But on a ship this size the marine detachment would be kept in the underbelly of the ship, near the shuttle bays and away from the CIC crews.
They docked in one of those shuttle bays, landing amongst the three other shuttles. Their shuttle landed smoothly, clamps locking it in place as the hangar doors sealed shut and pressurized. A pair of technicians came into the room to perform a pre-flight check on the shuttle.
As Shepard, who still wore his now dry but still uncomfortable PT uniform, stepped onto the dreadnought properly, a navy officer entered the bay. He immediately noted the silver leaf insignia on the man's collar; a commander.
"Commander Anderson," Liu greeted from behind Shepard.
David Anderson. Shepard immediately recognized the name, a flicker of awe cutting through his exhaustion.
"Captain Liu," Anderson said, nodding. His gaze shifted to Shepard, his expression unreadable. "I see you've brought your new second-in-command."
"Junior Lieutenant Shepard, meet Commander Anderson, the Denali's XO."
Anderson extended a hand. "We know all about you, Shepard. Your actions on Elysium did us all proud."
Shepard shook his hand, but his mind was already racing. "You're David Anderson."
Anderson raised an eyebrow. "I see my reputation precedes me."
"You were the first N7 graduate," Shepard stated, unable to keep the admiration from his tone. Then, frowning slightly, he added, "But... you're a navy officer."
Anderson chuckled at the surprise in his voice. "I am."
Shepard shook his head. It didn't add up. "You're one of the most decorated special forces marine in Systems Alliance history. You fought in the First Contact War. You led spec ops missions against the Batarians. When did you become a Navy officer?"
A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of Anderson's lips. "I made a promise to an old friend," he said. "A friend who thought I was too smart to be a Marine."
Liu snorted in amusement.
Anderson continued, "A few years ago, once I started feeling the pain from all those years of combat every morning when I woke up, I put in for an interservice transfer. They sent me to the Naval Academy to make sure I knew what I was doing."
Shepard exhaled slowly, his mind already working through the implications.
This assignment was about to be far more interesting than he had anticipated.
A/N: My ranks for the Systems Alliance military is slightly different from what rankings I've seen in Google searches. Though I'm not sure if anything I've seen is actually canon or not.
Navy Ranks:
E1 Serviceman Recruit/Third Class
E2 Servicemen Apprentice/ Second Class
E3 Servicemen First Class
E4 Petty Officer Third Class
E5 Petty Officer Second Class
E6 Petty Officer First Class
E7 Chief Petty Officer
E8 Senior Chief Petty Officer
E9 Master Chief Petty Officer
O1 Ensign
O2 Junior Lieutenant
O3 Lieutenant
O4 Lieutenant Commander
O5 Commander
O6 Captain
O7 Commodore
O8 Rear Admiral
O9 Vice Admiral
O10 Admiral
O11 Fleet Admiral
Marine/Army Ranks:
E1 Private
E2 Private First Class
E3 Lance Corporal
E4 Corporal
E5 Sergeant
E6 Staff Sergeant
E7 Gunnery Chief
E8 Service Chief
E9 Master Sergeant
O1 2nd Lieutenant
O2 1st Lieutenant
O3 Captain
O4 Major
O5 Lieutenant Colonel
O6 Colonel
O7 Brigadier General
O8 Major General
O9 Lieutenant General
O10 General
O11 Field Marshall