Chapter Text
“Did you hear who the XO is?” Joker asked Kaidan over lunch. The officer’s club on Arcturus was crowded at this time of day, enough that his head was close to throbbing and he was considering a strategic retreat back to the quiet of his on-station apartment.
“I haven’t.” His days had been particularly busy. Joker and the rest of the Navy personnel were busy preparing the ship for its maiden voyage. Kaidan and the Marine Detachment had been going through inventory and running through their pre deployment training - first aid, boarding and CQB, raids, mass casualty and hostile environment operations. Particularly on a truncated timeline, it left little time for him to even think about anything else.
Joker paused in between munching down on what was hopefully chicken nuggets. “Lieutenant Commander Nataliya Shepard.”
Kaidan blinked. One of the Alliance’s more infamous officers. A war hero or a war criminal, depending on who you asked. As a twenty-two year old corporal, she’d saved the capital of Elysium during the Blitz, then two years later, Lieutenant Shepard had gotten her company torn to shreds to destroy the batarian pirate base on Torfan.
There were darker things said about Torfan, rumours of an order given to take no prisoners, of torture and murder.
The sort of thing that would have seen any officer but the Hero of Elysium up on charges.
“That’s going to be…interesting.”
Joker smirked. “You look like you bit into a lemon.”
“Why are they assigning a N7 as a ship’s executive officer?” he wondered aloud, stabbing at a piece of vat meat.
Joker shrugged. “They pay me to fly, not to wonder about what the fuck PersComm is doing. I just hope she doesn’t ride my ass too hard.”
Kaidan chuckled. “More than Pressly already does?”
Joker groaned.
Kaidan’s omnitool pinged and he glanced down. “Sorry, Joker, I have to go. Captain wants to see him.”
“Yeah, see ya.”
Until the Normandy left the station, Captain David Anderson had an office within the Arcturus Naval Base - for that matter, so did Kaidan, but the thought of the paperwork waiting for him just made that throb in his temples threaten to get worse.
Anderson’s was a lot bigger though.
He rapped his knuckles against the door to Anderson’s office, the lock glowing orange.
“Lieutenant Alenko, sir.”
“Come in.”
When he stepped inside, Captain Anderson was behind his desk, but he wasn’t alone. A woman leant against the corner of Anderson’s desk, something Alenko didn’t think most people would be game to do. She was tall enough to match his height, blond hair pulled back into a bun. He did his best not to look too long at the scar that divided her face into two sections, through one eyebrow, across the bridge of her nose and ending at the opposite cheekbone.
“Sir,” he said, and then, “Ma’am,” because the newcomer was wearing the bars of a lieutenant commander if not a nametape. But that would make sense if she was who he thought she was. N7s traditionally didn’t wear name tapes like the rest of the military. Anderson did, but he’d not been in the Unit for a few years since switching to commanding ships.
“Shepard, this is Staff Lieutenant Alenko, our Marine Detachment Commander. Alenko, Lieutenant Commander Shepard.”
“Alenko,” Shepard said his name with a hint of curiosity. When their eyes met, hers were a clear blue. Her gaze wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but it was measuring. When they shook hands, her grip was firm but not domineering. “I look forward to working with you.”
“I’ve never worked with an N7 before,” he replied, “I’m sure we can learn a lot from you, ma’am.”
Something about his reply made Shepard smile slightly, as if it were a joke. “I’ll try not to step on your toes too much, Lieutenant. I’d like to go over the Marine Detachment with you. Does after PT work for you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good,” Anderson said, his eyes glancing between Shepard and Alenko. “Dismissed, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, ma’am.”
As Kaidan left, he could feel Commander Shepard’s eyes on his back. He had the feeling he’d just been through some sort of test, and he wasn’t sure how he’d gone.
Blue blurred around Shepard, flowed down to her fingers, static making the hair on the back of her arms prickle and stand up. She curled her fingers and a weight across the room jerked into the air, tumbling forward until it hovered before her. She took a deep, even breath.
The exercises she liked to do to warm up with were simple enough that they barely needed thought, and she was just getting into them when she heard the door open. The weight halted, floating in a cloud of blue energy. It was late and the weights room empty - which was why she liked to exercise at this time. Just because the military was the most accepting place for a biotic didn’t mean she enjoyed the stares.
“Commander,” Lieutenant Alenko stood in the doorway in his PT gear. He looked tired, his thick, dark hair messy. Looking at him, she had the sudden urge to run her hands through his hair. It really had been a long deployment.
“Lieutenant,” she acknowledged with a tilt of her head. She really needed to get laid on shore leave. There was nothing wrong in thinking Alenko was attractive, so long as she kept it to herself. And it had been twelve months in the Traverse.
“Mind if I join you, ma’am?”
“Not at all.” To distract herself from Alenko stretching, she said, “Served with many other biotics?”
“Not often, ma'am. You know how they like to spread us around,” He started doing a similar exercise and she felt his biotics rattle her teeth.
“Mm,” She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, “You're an L2, right?” Another weight joined the first.
“That's right, ma'am,” His voice was cautious. She didn't blame him. She'd gotten shit over the years and she was an L3.
“I've read your personnel record,” She lowered the weights, sucked in a breath, “Your baseline and control scores are impressive, Lieutenant. Anderson clearly sees something in you, given he requested you for the Normandy.”
“We’d never met before I came aboard,” Alenko said cautiously, “so I wouldn’t know, Commander.”
His caution was familiar, if tiring. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her and seen anything but Torfan. At least he was polite about it. “Mm.”
He glanced over at her. Alenko seemed to be the sort that weighed his words before he said them. She was curious as to how that would play out in the field - being a thinker was far from a bad thing, so long as you didn’t hesitate.
“You and the Captain have known each other a while, ma’am?”
The weight hovered between her palms. “Yes. Since before I joined the Alliance.”
He’d been the first person to follow through his promises. To face all of her rage, too much to be contained in a teenager’s lanky, overly skinny body, and not flinch. He’d given her a chance, and never expected anything back.
And she’d tried, over the years, to make things even between them, and he hadn’t been interested in it. At first, she’d seen that as him trying to hold one over her. The realisation that he just didn’t see their relationship as transactional and that he saw her as something like a daughter - well, that had led to her not returning his calls or emails for fourteen months when she was twenty.
Alenko picked up his own weight with his biotics. It was a strange awareness, near another biotic who wasn’t trying to kill her, to feel how he bent the gravity well around him.
Shepard considered him for a moment. She wanted a read on him before they went into combat together.
Time to needle him a bit, then.
“Is this going to be a problem?” she asked, gesturing between them with a glowing hand.
His thick eyebrows furrowed. “Ma’am?”
“Alenko, you’ve had a little storm cloud above your head since I came aboard. I’m going to guess you don’t approve of Torfan. You’re welcome to think whatever you like, but if it affects the mission, then we’ll have a problem. Will we?”
The frown remained, Alenko watching her for a moment. Trying to figure her out right back. “I’m a professional, ma’am. My personal opinions will remain personal. But…” and here, he drew himself up, jaw steeling, “I’m not going to be silent if I think something is wrong.”
Shepard smiled. “Good.”
“Ma’am?”
“I have no use for sycophants, Lieutenant.” She replaced the hand weights, pleased. She’d gotten her biotic exercises in and gotten something of a read on the man she’d be relying on in the field. A good night’s work. “I’ll see you at 08:00.”
“Ma’am.”
Powell started talking about grenades and ammunition and just a bit off the top, no one ever notices and Ash saw red. She saw Penny, ripped apart at the waist. She saw Nirali, skewered through the chest like a butterfly pinned to a display. She tasted her own blood on her tongue.
She went for him.
Ashley got one good hit in, her fist snapping his face back and breaking his nose. He shrieked, stumbling back, but when she took a step forward, there was someone in front of her.
Shepard grabbed her by the shoulders. Blue eyes met hers through their visors.
“Stop.” It was an order, but not one she felt inclined to follow, even with how Shepard spoke - like disobedience hadn’t even occurred to her as option.
“My friends died trying to defend him and he took our weapons-”
“I know,” there was a gentleness in Shepard’s voice she hadn’t expected from the Butcher of Torfan. “But it won’t change anything.”
Her shoulders slumped. The rage ebbed away. She wanted to hold onto it, because there was something terrifying lurking below it.
Lieutenant Alenko was shepherding Powell away from her, but there was a twist to his mouth that spoke of disgust when he looked at the civilian.
“Sorry, ma’am,” she muttered.
Shepard didn’t look angry. She just patted Ash on the pauldron once before stepping back to give her space. “He’s a little bitch who deserves to get his ass beat, but we have a job to do. This colony is relying on us. Are you good to go?”
She squared her shoulders. “Right behind you, Commander.”
Shepard nodded approvingly and turned to go.
Ashley had heard a lot about the Butcher of Torfan, but kindness hadn’t been one of those things.