"Joker, how's it going up here?"
"Well… without a second pilot, it's not easy…"
Joker smirked at me, hands fluttering over holographic panels as he flew the ship.
"…but I'm managing. This ship is just wonderful! Responsive and kind, like a slutty asari you pick up at a brothel…"
A lewd grin spread across the pilot's lips.
"Well, good that the ship's good…"
I nodded with satisfaction.
"…but there are downsides, right?"
"The Normandy is a perfect ship!"
"Joker…"
I frowned slightly.
"…it's an experimental ship, and if you keep praising it, other pilots—not as good as you—will just die trying to fly ships like this. So a list of ALL flaws needs to be compiled, with notes on why they're flaws, and suggestions on how to fix them."
"Ugh… paperwork again…"
Joker sighed theatrically.
"Looks like you've got a real problem with discipline here."
A voice behind me made me flinch slightly. I wasn't used to someone walking that quietly on a ship—sneaking up on the second-in-command. Though… I only became "second" just now. Before, on ships I'd commanded landing parties, that's it. But as they say, you get used to good things fast—especially since this ship would soon be mine.
"Why would you say that…"
I shrugged casually, turning my head and looking at Nihlus—the one who might very soon become a corpse.
"…discipline is fine. That was a private conversation, not an officer-to-subordinate exchange. If it were formal, Joker would be standing at attention and I wouldn't be so relaxed. Though then we wouldn't be flying anywhere—we'd be listening to strictly formatted answers."
I allowed myself a small corner-of-the-mouth smirk.
"By the way, Spectre, may I ask a question?"
"Hm?"
"How often do Spectres work together? Rarely, right?"
"Suppose so."
He eyed me suspiciously.
"And if you meet another Spectre on a mission—someone you know, maybe your former trainee, someone you recommended, or someone you've worked with before—how do you determine whether they've been compromised?"
"What do you mean?"
Nihlus's voice went cold.
"Well… 'compromised' might be too strong, but everyone has a weakness. Family. Money. Ambition. Someone got help from the outside and now they're being blackmailed. Ideological motives… So you meet, say, a female asari Spectre—how do you behave? Take off your helmet, go in for a hug, ask how she's doing, pull out a flask and offer a drink? Or do you point a gun at her and demand answers?"
"You ask strange questions…"
"Why strange?"
I shrugged.
"In N7, we were taught that any armed person you meet on a mission who isn't in your unit is a suspicious subject first—even if you personally know them. Only after checking with command can they become a friend or enemy. If there's no comms, it's on the unit commander, but usually you don't leave that person unattended. Someone keeps an eye on them so they don't do something stupid. So I'm curious—what protocol do you have?"
"That's classified."
I gave a quiet snort at Nihlus's words, mentally shrugging. I'd planted a seed of doubt before the Saren meeting; the rest was on him. I wasn't his nanny.
"We're approaching the mass relay…"
Joker focused, hands moving even faster.
"Transit in ten…"
He started the countdown, and I braced myself. Not strictly necessary—we weren't in combat, so the relay transit wouldn't jerk us too hard. Still, better safe than sorry.
"One… zero…"
A slight tug—and we were already on the other end of our route. Instant for us; for ordinary people it could take a few seconds. Joker began rattling off ship parameters.
"…Drift fifteen hundred."
"Fifteen hundred—that's good… your captain will be pleased."
After that, the Spectre left.
"What an asshole."
Joker couldn't hold it back; there was a hint of hatred in his voice.
"Why so harsh, Joker?"
"Cap?"
He looked at me with confusion and a question.
"They stuck a stick up his ass so he'd stand straight—and forgot to pull it out, so that's how he acts."
"Hah…"
Joker gave a short laugh.
"…yeah, that does fit. But you were pretty polite with him."
"Not my place to question command's decision to have a Spectre onboard. In my opinion it's stupid—we'd be better off with turian techs and a second pilot, considering the ship is experimental, like I said. But… we got a Spectre…"
"Sir, what do you think he's here for? I mean… I don't think a Spectre gets sent on a normal test flight."
"Well… who the hell knows with Spectres? Maybe they're using us as a taxi and another ship is waiting for him on Eden Prime. Or maybe for him this assignment is a vacation—fly there, stand around looking smart…"
I shrugged.
"Hm… any other options?"
"Well…"
I looked thoughtfully toward one of the sensors.
"…if we take a truly ridiculous version: they want to nominate me for the Spectres and he's here as an observer."
"A human? For the Spectres?!"
Joker laughed.
"Yeah, that's not happening. Saren shot down the captain's promotion attempt back in the day, and they won't take you into that club either."
"I said it's one of the ridiculous versions. In reality there could be a lot…"
"Joker…"
One of the comms channels activated; Anderson was calling the pilot.
"…tell Shepard to report to the comm room."
"Understood, Captain—and careful, Nihlus is heading your way and—"
He didn't finish, because I clamped my hand over his mouth—roughly enough that he let out a muffled sound of pain.
"Thanks for the warning, Joker. Mr. Kryik is already here."
The channel cut off, and I removed my hand.
"Joker, thank the gods I shut you up just now. Because if you'd said something rude…"
He looked away, which meant that's exactly what he was about to do. Canon is canon, and Joker is Joker. He's not a bad guy, but his tongue is a broom—sweeps first, coughs up dust later.
"…they could've had you written off and sent ashore. Is that what you want?"
"N-no, sir."
"Then think before you speak. Your own people will tell you to piss off and forget it, but Spectres…"
I shook my head.
"Thank you, sir… but you could've gagged me more gently."
"No."
I shook my head.
"And yeah—after this mission, remind me to order some meds. They won't cure you, but they'll make you a lot sturdier."
"What?!"
He stared at me in shock.
"Your condition is treatable these days. There's a course of medication, and a course of surgeries. Two treatment options: a light one—minimal surgical intervention—and a full one—where they replace bones… not all bones can be replaced, but that's what the meds are for: to reinforce the ones that can't be replaced, with external polymer augmentation."
"Sir…"
"But no surgery for you in the near future. First you take the meds course."
"Sir, I…"
"Oh, shut up already and remember: I take care of my people. Though once you're cured, you'll need to be more careful with your words—because people won't just tell you to piss off, they'll hit you too."
"Yes, sir!"
He snapped to attention—still sitting in his chair.
"Yeah…"
I waved a hand and headed toward the comm room.
"Shepard, I need to talk to you…"
Karin—the ship's medic—caught me just as I was about to pass the CIC.
"Can it wait? Anderson called me."
"It can…"
Karin sighed.
"…go."
"Thanks, doc. By the way, if you need any medical supplies, make me a list. I'll see what can be done."
"And if it's not only medical supplies?"
She looked at me attentively.
"Also list. What I can squeeze out of logistics rats, I will. What I can't, I'll buy. Not promising the latest generation fresh off the line, but it'll be in good condition."
"I… will think about it."
Karin nodded, thoughtful, and I continued to the comm room.
"Mr. Kryik?"
I looked questioningly at the Spectre, who stood before the holo display and stared at the image of a planet I recognized as Eden Prime. I'd studied its orbital images too, once I realized I was that Shepard being assigned to the Normandy.
"Shepard, what do you know about the Eden Prime colony?"
"Hm… quite a lot. I invest in that colony's development. So you'll need to be more specific."
"What threats exist for Eden Prime?"
"You want them itemized?"
I allowed myself a smirk.
"Then let's start with batarians, who the Council for some reason doesn't wipe out like they did the krogan. Krogan just liked to fight and bred like rabbits—these legalized slavery. At minimum they should've been blockaded on their worlds so they couldn't leave… but no…"
I shook my head.
"…when it's not your worlds, you prefer to bury your heads in the sand."
Kryik kept standing there, looking at me. His face didn't reveal what he thought about my words. But it was doubtful he thought anything good.
"Next, ordinary pirates. Mercenaries. Maybe rachni breeding in the unexplored regions…"
At the mention of rachni, Kryik twitched.
"Still, Eden Prime's defenses are solid, and unless a dreadnought shows up, they can beat back even a small pirate flotilla."
"Shepard…"
Anderson appeared behind me.
"Sir!"
I snapped to attention.
"Shepard, let's get straight to it. What do you think your presence here is for, and why the Spectre is here?"
"I have many assumptions, but I lack data to identify the most likely."
"I'm here to evaluate you, Shepard."
Kryik spoke up.
"To evaluate your abilities and decide if you're suitable for Spectre service. Humanity is very young for a spacefaring civilization, but you've already entered many spheres of life within Citadel space. They've decided to give you this chance… a second chance…"
"It's an honor."
"Hah. Don't celebrate. I haven't decided you're suitable yet. And a major negative is that you assembled a landing party. Spectres should operate in minimal teams."
"Well…"
I shrugged.
"No one told me I was being evaluated for Spectres, so I acted according to Alliance regulations. And even now… the evaluation changes nothing. I'm not a Spectre yet, so I must still act from the same premises."
"Sir, you need to see this!"
Joker's voice sounded over the speakers, and the holo display image changed…