Chapter Text
“As of the current date, the royal court proclaims that crown princess Elsa is studying at a university on Citadel. Further details have been omitted to ensure Her Royal Highness’s “privacy and security”. Nevertheless, many conspiracies have sprouted about the princess’s whereabouts, as the information regarding the heir to the Norwegian crown has been secretive for two decades since her birth, citing her health issues as an excuse for many occasions where her appearance was expected—”
The hologram news a blonde woman was watching shuts down with a slap on the omni-tool on her wrist. The silence permeated the dorm room she was sitting alone on her bunk. An Alliance Marine’s requisition bag lays by her feet, stuffed with all the meager possessions the marine had in her three years of service since enlisting at 17 years old. An exception her father pulled a lot of favors for.
He just can’t wait to get rid of her fast enough.
”They will give you the training you need.” He said then. “Just learn the best you can, then you can come home and we can be a normal family again.”
Which implies he never thought of her as normal in her whole life. Not normal because of something she was born with that’s entirely not her fault. A sentiment that her mother and sister, blessed them, venomously opposed. Oh, how pissed they will be if they learned where she is, since she had enlisted without their knowledge, covered her identity with her mother’s maiden name even.
They are going to kill her father if they find out, probably her too for going along with his lies.
The irritating thoughts make her body glow with blue light. The static sparking in the air snapped the blonde from her emotions and she tightened her hands into fists, which made the blue statics go away.
Biotic, they called. An ability to move things with thought, build a barrier between oneself and other objects or energy, and tear organic beings' cells to cause great pain and death. An ability loathed by humanity at large and pushing human biotics into either the fringes of society or the military, as she was.
A biotic is unfit in polite society, let alone the next in line to the royal crown.
Although to be fair she did study in a university on the Citadel, the galaxy’s largest space station where billions of various sapient aliens lived. Her university is also one of the best in computer engineering, which is the course she currently studies. She just happens to sign up for the long-distance version of it. So she can join the classes from wherever she was stationed at the time.
Speaking of which, she reminds herself to talk to her advisor about class arrangements before her new assignment, considering that said assignment is aboard a stealth frigate going on a classified mission for who knows how long, and she will have to go radio silence for the entire time she works there.
She still can’t believe the captain of said ship picked her personally for the post. She had only been a sentinel (biotic trained in engineering) for three years and he picked her to join the crew on classified missions despite countless other more experienced soldiers in the Alliance Navy. He may said something about “engineering prodigy” but surely he could have gotten the real deal combat engineer instead? Like those elite N7 engineers?
What if the moment she shows up at the dock she got turned away? Saying her assignment was a mistake? What if she isn’t as good as he expected and he kicked her off the ship the next stop?
So many worries plagued the corporal's mind she almost missed the ringer from the message on her omni-tool telling her to report to her commanding officer at dock A16. Panicking, she picked up her bag and ran out of the barrack, rushing through the busy crowd at Arcturus Station. The deep space station of the Alliance Navy is not easy to navigate, hence her panic sprint all the way.
She comes to a stop right in front of the big sign of "A16" and bends over to catch her breath. Once she deems herself somewhat presentable, fixing her uniform and beret in place, she opens the door and is greeted with a breathtaking sight.
A sleek, shiny frigate is right in front of her, it has a curving long body and two wings on each side with two thrusters each. It resembles a bird ready to cut through the space with grace, speed, and precision, a beautiful difference from the usual Alliance frigates that look more like narrow mattresses with big cannons strapped on top. A black sign "SSV Normandy SR-1" is plastered on the ship, showing her that she has come to the right place.
The corporal was standing in awe watching every detail on the frigate she did not notice someone coming to stand next to her. When the person next to her speaks, the sentinel almost jumps a foot high.
"Beautiful, isn't she? As much grumbling from many soldiers about aliens working with us, you gotta admit Turians definitely know how to build a ship"
The blonde looks to the side to find a giant of a woman towering over her. While the corporal considers herself only "slightly below average height" among the marines, this redhead looking down at her makes her feel like a child, standing close to her like this. Thankfully the big woman's green eyes gleam with mirth rather than anger and annoyance the high-ranking officers tend to reserve for the lowly personnel, since judging by a thin line between two bars on her insignia, the corporal is speaking to the Lt. Commander, very likely assigned on this ship.
"And as much of a marvel Normandy is, this is still a limited-access area. So care to tell me what are you doing here, soldier?"
The piercing gaze replaces the friendliness suddenly. The authority extruded from the commander makes the marine straighten her back and snap into a salute even before her thoughts catch up.
"Cor-- Corporal Elsa Balto, report for duty, ma'am!"
The commander lights up her omni-tool, likely to check her name on the roster. Her heart beats so fast like it's about to jump out of her chest. What if this is a mistake? What if her name isn't on the roster and she got a disciplinary action for coming into an unauthorized area? The detail said this ship would go on a classified mission, could she get discharged over this? What will she tell her father? What--
"Ah, here you are. Cpl. Elsa Balto, sentinel class marine. Impressive records, by the way, we certainly need someone of your caliber on Normandy."
The stern face relaxed, the commander salutes back as per tradition, before speaking with a light smile.
"Lt. Commander Sheperd, executive officer of Normandy. Welcome aboard, corporal."