Chapter Text
GNN News Report
Citadel Station, Earth Orbit
17 February 2211
As events marking the 25th anniversary of the end of the Reaper War continue both onboard the Citadel and down on Earth, the Galactic Alliance prepares to launch its newest and most advanced vessel in the fleet. The Trident SR-X is a brand new and state-of-the-art frigate design based upon the famous SSV Normandy SR-2, which under the leadership of Commander John Shepard helped bring about the end of the most destructive conflict in galactic history. It is expected that at some point over the next few days Alliance officials will announce the name of the appointed commanding officer of the Trident, though many speculate that the decision has already been made. GNN will be standing by in the coming days, ready to bring you the news of the announcement as soon as it is made.
In other news, Council elections for the new term begin in two weeks, with front-runner Solana Vakarian from the Turian Heirarchy meeting voters across the Citadel's wards. Her campaign, run on a ticket promising further support for species equality and backing the inclusion of additional members to the council, has met with resounding support from turians and non-turians alike.
GNN will continue to bring you daily updates on the launch of the Trident and on the election run-up as events unfold. Stay tuned!
Citadel Station, Earth Orbit
Galactic Alliance Navy Headquarters, Presidium
1053 hours Galactic Standard
15 February 2211
[Turian] "I'm not questioning his record but rather his over-famous adopted parents. Many will see this as an attention-grab and continuation of a hero-legacy that should have been left to die years ago."
[Human] "Let them think what they want. As far as this Command Council is concerned, Lieutenant Commander Shepard-Alenko is the most capable Command-eligible officer we have with the greatest amount of experience. To say that he's followed in his fathers' footsteps is an understatement. The Lieutenant Commander has achievements that go above-and-beyond the call of duty in all regards. Short of bringing John Shepard back to command, he's the best we have!"
[Geth] "Shepard-Alenko-Commander is a singular prime candidate. We have already reached consensus."
[Turian] "I will not stand here and let this decision, clouded by favoritism for a war hero, be made without due course! Hell, even the Geth are in on this!"
[Asari] "Please, everyone. This council has deliberated long enough. It's time we made our decision and moved forward."
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, Earth
0829 hours Local
17 February 2211
"I still can't believe it."
"What isn't there to believe? You're it Big-D!"
Lieutenant Commander David Shepard-Alenko ran his hand over his buzzed hair in contemplation. To say the last two weeks had been both stressful and unexpected would be an understatement.
First had been an eight-hour long Command Board. He was sure it was the longest Command Board in history. On top of that he hadn't even gotten a bathroom-break the entire time. Being grilled for hours-on-in on eveyrthing from why he joined the armed forces, why he chose his career path, what he thought of current events, all the way to how he would handle hypothetical situations; one of the board members even asked him what his favorite color was. How was that even relevant?
"Look, you made it and that's what matters." The reassurance came from one Algherian, Lieutenant Tiber Rhesius, David's best friend and fellow N7 trainee.
"Besides, if you don't want the job then I'll damn well take it from you!"
"You wouldn't know the bow from the stern on a starship, let alone a prototype" David shot back. It was true that Rhesius was more of a "ground-pounder" than anything else and David enjoyed reminding him of it.
"Yeah, whatever. I could still do a better job than you could!" Rhesius teased.
David placed his hands on Rhesius' shoulders mockingly. "Not in a million years man, not in a million years!"
"Alright, alright already. Let's just get through our N7 commissioning and then we can see what you're made of 'Commander'."
"That's not for another week."
"If you say so. It's as good as yours whether you believe it or not."
Citadel Station, Earth Orbit
Galactic Alliance Offices, Presidium
0747 hours Galactic Standard
27 February 2211
"Great; crew selections..." David's voice trailed off. He wasn't looking forward to the ever-monotonous process of going through and selecting his command crew.
"What? Every ship goes through it when it's first launched." Rhesius stated matter-of-factly.
"You know my dad went through this process THREE times; twice on the same ship. One time he used a dossier list and the other two he just winged."
"Then I guess you could always wing it. Just call it the 'Shepard Way' or something." The statement was full of sarcasm, despite having its own merits.
"My dad would probably like that, but either way this should be interesting."
It was then that the door chime rang, announcing someone's presence outside the office's main door.
"Get ready, here's the first one." said David, straightening his uniform slightly as he stood up. "Come in."
The twin doors parted with a slight hiss revealing the massive frame of a Krogan.
David raised an eyebrow, not realizing that any Krogan had made it onto the crew selection roster for interviews. "And you are?"
"Sarkus Mellax. I'm here for crew selections" came the distinctly Krogan-sounding reply. The reptilian promptly ambled his way forward and took a seat in the room's largest chair.
"You're Sarkus Mellax? Not exactly what I expected in an engineer." David looked toward Rhesius for affirmation which got him little more than a shrug and a nod.
"Hey, I'm the best damn engineer this side of the galaxy. Don't tell me you'd rather have some slimy Salarian frog trying to keep the Alliance's newest drive core in check hahahaha!" David could have sworn he'd heard a similar laugh before, but he couldn't place it at the moment.
"Sorry, like I said, you just weren't what I was expecting." Gathering his wits about him, David took a seat at the desk depressing a small button to bring up the personnel files. "Well Mr. Mellax, your file shows that you've worked in the field of starship engineering for nearly 40 years though you've been involved in the reconstruction of Tuchanka for the past eight of them."
"Yeah, did some work on the new housing areas in the main cities. The previous project head kept feeding bullshit to the clan leaders about needing better materials in less time until I stepped in and helped them realize the guy was just an idiot." Mellax sounded rather self-satisfied as he recanted his previous job's 'hiring' method. "Anyway, I finished up what I had running there to get back into a ship. Can only take so much of that blasted planet anyways. The air is still as crappy as ever."
"So what makes you believe that you're the right fit here?"
"I'm the best there is, straight up. I've worked on every size drive core from fighters on up to dreadnoughts AND I'm fully read-up on the new Tantalus Mk.VII core." Mellax's finger was pointed directly toward's David's forehead. "Let me put it another way; unless you want to blow your brand new ship up right out of space dock, you're gonna need me."
David wasn't really sure how to take that, but at least this Krogan wasn't lacking for confidence. Although, most Krogan don't lack for confidence due simply to the fact that they're Krogan. Either way, this had the potential to go drastically wrong.
"I can't argue with your credentials or the work you've done, I'm really only worried about the rest of my engineers and whether or not you're going to, how do I put it, 'bump heads' with them."
"That's not the best way to say it" came Rhesius' unsolicited reply. "Krogan bump heads for a living."
"Ha, four-arms over here is right. But don't worry about your sensitive little engineers. I know how to behave myself around non-Krogan. Besides, cleaning brain splatter off the walls of an engine room isn't my idea of a good time." There was a half-cocked smirk that came to Mellax's face as he finished speaking.
"Then I guess Mr. Mellax, you have the next 72 hours to get yourself situated on board and become acclimated to the engineering staff and systems." David rose and extended his hand to the Krogan, who also rose and gripped it tightly in response.
"Good. Looks like you won't be committing suicide right out of the docks then, hahaha!"
Mellax quickly turned and trodded back out of the office. Somehow the room now seemed bigger without the Krogan's reptilian bulk taking up extra space.
"What just happened?" asked Rhesius. "Did you just hire a Krogan to run the engine room?"
"Yes I did. Let’s just hope it's not my brain that's splattered on the walls of Main Engineering."
"Heard tell your dad put a few Krogan in their place back in the day. I'm sure you'll live, if only with a slight headache."
"Thanks for the support" David shot back as he punched Rhesius in the shoulder. "Who's next?"
"Well it looks like the prospective medical officer is next. It says here that he's Salarian."
"Great. Looks like I'll have to make sure Mellax stays out of sick bay..."
Galactic Alliance Fitting Yards, Earth Orbit (San Francisco)
1937 hours Galactic Standard
28 February 2211
David walked with purpose down the corridor of the fitting yard leading to the airlocks. It was now just under 24 hours from the scheduled launch and shake-down and he was nearly ready to pass out from exhaustion.
In the past few days David had barely found the time to sleep. He’d been spending most of his time either conducting crew interviews or signing any number of myriad requisition forms for supplies and materiel. However, with the launch coming up in less than a day, he was determined to get some decent shut-eye.
As he rounded the corner to the main airlock, David keyed in on what seemed to be the end of a rather high-energy chewing-out session. And from a Krogan no less.
“Listen you half-wit! These are high-performance TM-97 sublight engines, not the grav engine on the cheap piece of crap you call a car! You are GOING to replace the heat exchangers with model X-107’s or so help me I’m going to toss your ass through the nearest window into space!”
David felt, in the best interest of the technician being berated, that stepping in would be a good idea.
“Mellax, everything going okay here?”
“Yeah, peachy. It’s just that these yard workers couldn't tell the difference between a primary FTL charge coil and an inertial dampener to save their puny lives. Go on, get moving!” Mellax waved the technician off. The tech quickly turned and double-timed down the gangway, perverbial tail tucked between his legs.
“Anyways, we should be good for tomorrow so long as that piss-ant gets me the parts I need.”
“Anything else I should know about?” David queried.
“Nah. Everything else is good to go. We’re as ready as we’re going to be for launch tomorrow.”
A dull orange light began flashing on David’s wrist as his omni-tool indicated he had an incoming message.
“Well let me know if you need anything else for engineering. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yeah, see ya.”
David keyed the light on his omni-tool, bringing up a small image transmission. The face in that image certainly wasn’t one that he was expecting to receive a call from, especially now. But the stern expression and no-nonsense demeanor told him that something was amiss and that this call would be serious.
“Admiral Zorah, what can I do for you?”
Admiral Tali’Zorah vas Normandy. One of his fathers’ teammates both before, during, and after the Reaper War. She had been made an Admiral by the Quarians at the start of the Reaper War but life after the war, with the reconstruction of Rannoch proceeding smoothly and on schedule, had led to her appointment to the then newly-formed Galactic Alliance Navy Command Council. Her position was one she had earned both through knowledge and action and her rise in authority had been supported by everyone around her.
“Commander, I need you to link into a secure comm line. I need to brief you on a situation in the fringe worlds.”
“Yes ma’am, I’ll be aboard the Trident momentarily.” David responded as he keyed off his omni-tool.
Quickly making his way through the airlock and to Trident’s central lift, he keyed the selection for the CIC. Unlike in older ships who elevators were known to be slow to the point of nearly moving backwards, the Trident had been equipped with a central elevator that utilized micro-gravity accelerators for movement, meaning a significantly increased operation speed.
Several moments later the lift arrived in CIC and the doors parted unceremoniously. The CIC was nearly deserted, only a few auxiliary consoles still lit and active. Moving past the galaxy map and ship status consoles, David stepped into the adjoining rear passageway which led to the ship’s conference room.
Upon stepping inside, David keyed his omni-tool to link with the ship's communications network. A split-second later, an image of Admiral Zorah appeared above the conference room table.
“We’re secure Admiral, what’s going on?”
“Commander, as you know we’ve been sending survey flotillas and colonization fleets out through newly discovered Mass Relays in the fringe systems of known space.” The Admiral’s tone was serious and David felt as though he was supposed to be bracing for some kind of startling news. “Nine days ago our colonization and survey fleet passing through a newly charted Mass Relay beyond Batarian space failed to check back in after proceeding through the relay. A local system defense vessel from the Systems Alliance moved through the relay to assist two days later, but that ship has also not reported back.”
David had heard his fair share of horror stories about exploring new Mass Relays and the risks involved. It was always a possibility that you could get dropped right smack in the middle of a solar system full of hostile aliens or you could get flung head-long into a collapsing black hole. Something told him that this situation was encroaching upon those very possible, though statistically unlikely, horrors.
“Are you saying you’re sending us on a mission right out of space dock Admiral?”
“It comes down to this Commander, we need to get a ship through that Relay that’s as prepared as possible for whatever could be waiting on the other side. We can’t just leave 36 ships worth of people out there alone.”
“Admiral, the Trident hasn’t even completed a shake-down run yet and I’m not sure this new of a ship and crew is ready for that kind of mission.” David wasn’t sure if she’d take that as a sign of weakness or just his pragmatism asserting itself, but he was hoping it would be the latter.
“The Trident will have two days en-route for shake-downs before you get to the relay in question. You’ll have that long to ensure things are working properly before you head through. In addition, we’re going to be loading the Trident with several experimental communications buoys which can be remote operated in hopes of improving your ability to communicate back to us.”
“Understood Admiral, I’ll let my crew know first thing in the morning. I assume our launch schedule hasn’t changed?” If they had to launch sooner than expected then David wasn’t sure how their shake-down run would go without the final parts Mellax insisted he needed for engineering.
“No, Commander, your schedule hasn’t changed. However, you are hereby ordered not to mention the nature of your mission to anyone outside your command staff, your fathers included.”
“Yes ma’am. Any particular reason?”
“None that I can share with you at the moment, but suffice it to say that they will be notified in due course. Now Commander, I’d say you need to get some sleep before you depart tomorrow.”
“I will do that Admiral. Trident out.” David keyed the display on the conference room table and the image dissolved out of existence.
Great, now he was going to have to brief his crew on a new mission about which they knew nearly nothing other than “be prepared for anything.”
David rubbed his head hard. “Rhes is going to pitch a fit over this.”