Massive Disaster 5-13A

A dozen pairs of feet made their way through the yawning doors and out into the open space of the massive space station, the walk back from the Council Chamber far from the victory lap Zedd expected it to be.

All the white noise of a quintillion-credit bureaucracy buzzed in the background as usual, the polite hum of the Presidium’s eezo fields still going strong along with the swish of loose and undoubtedly expensive fabric from passersby. The Presidium was still a sight to see as they walked by; embassies and statues screamed legacy and permanence, and all the other sort of things that made one want to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahhh’ to their heart’s content. 

It should have been a moment to cheer at least, right?

They won something. They had the mission. Hell, they had a fucking human SPECTRE. That was a big thing, considering only the big three Council races had one.

And yet, no one spoke a word. The silence stretching between the Alliance delegation felt heavy enough to crack the floor tiles, Wrex doing his part to help. Yet, none of that seemed to even register to Zedd, his eyes low to the ground as he continued to turn something over and over in his head.

Something that was said in the Chamber.

Reapers.

It bounced again, from one side of his skull to another, and refused to settle. What… what is a Reaper? It’d be logical to say it was something like an advanced Geth platform, sure.

Occam’s Razor, and all that.

He’d even mulled the possibility over a few times, but remembering that giant ship that hung over Eden Prime — the thing that looked technorganic in a way the Geth simply weren’t — Zedd knew that something else had to be in front of him. 

Something he was missing here.

His frown deepened on his face as he replayed Saren’s voice in his head. The injured SPECTRE had a stress pattern to his voice, almost everything he spoke in that cadence sounding off with a barely repressed tension and rage to it.

Almost everything.

Reapers… When he said that single word, the stress had eased up and despite the careful intonation… Zedd blinked behind his glasses. Why did he say it like he was at church?

He didn’t really have much idea of Turian religion, past the basics at least, but Turians didn’t even worship like that. Their worship was their duty, so why would Saren Arterius of all people sound like he was talking about a god if a Reaper was just a Geth?

…huh.

Zedd clicked his tongue as he walked beside Jane Shepard, hands buried deep in his coat as his pace matched to hers. 

Out of everyone here, he would have expected the usually-prickly Lieutenant Commander to at least be grinning as wide as she could. He saw none of that, though.

Not so much as a smirk on her face, jaw too tight and shoulders set like she was weathering the force of a punch to the stomach. The title was all hers, now, but it seemed like there was no joy to be found in it. Again, First Human Spectre…

A big deal, if there ever was one.

Galactic, even.

It was the kind of thing that got chapters in history books, statues in colony squares and ticker tape parades out the ass.

But right now, Jane looked a lot less like a hero and more like someone who’d just been handed a live grenade and told to hold it tight.

He let the silence hang for another ten seconds, eyes on the fake trees and water features, just to see if anyone else would say the obvious. Anderson was too busy looking like a man who’d just mortgaged his soul while Udina whispered in his ear. John was up in front, Alenko and Ashley marching after him, and the aliens certainly weren’t saying anything.

“Soooo.” Zedd’s voice cut through the quiet, lazy and sharp as he let the syllable stretch past any decent limits. “First human Spectre. How’s it feel, Shep? Come with a fat stack of creds? A decoder ring? Free drinks in the Wards for life?”

Jane didn’t break stride, eyes fixed on a point off in the distance that Zedd was pretty sure didn’t even exist. “Feels like shit.” Voice stripped of everything but the facts, she didn’t even sound as pissed as she usually did. “Like I just got a leash put around my neck and they called it a license to kill.”

The laugh Zedd let out wasn’t his alone, Anderson coughing behind him in a way that was a little too obvious. “I mean, it’s a pretty long leash, though. Definitely onger than you had before, right? Beats the standard Alliance choke-chain.”

“Depends on whose hand is holding it.” The warm voice of John Shepard sounded off from up front as the big man glanced back, a small smile touching his lips. “Long leashes just mean you can build up more momentum before you get yanked back.”

“That too.” Zedd smirked over at Jane. “’Sides, you could definitely pull off a collar, Shep. No doubt.”

The click of Jane’s boots against the pristine floor was sudden as she turned and shot him a look that could have done dangerous things to helium, namely freezing it solid. “…I think you should watch your words.”

Her eyes were not the only two he could feel on him, two other feminine sets from behind locked firmly on the back of his skull. “I… I meant that in an entirely platonic way. It just seems like you might have been into punk in your youth, I’m just getting that…. That…” Zedd licked his lips, an angry Shepard and two irritated girlfriends draining him of talking points faster than he could workshop them. “That sort of vibe?”

“…I think you should watch your words.” 

Jane’s repeated threat had him nod.

Wasn’t even flirting first of all, you’re not even my type. He knew better than to say that at least, simply continuing his nod as he held up his palms in a mock surrender that flowed into a lazy shrug. “I’m just saying, we’re all in a collar of some kind, Lieutenant Commander.” 

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, as true as that was. “The trick is making sure yours is long enough to let you bite who you need to.”

As Shepard clicked her tongue and didn’t say anything else, Zedd flicked his attention over to the ‘bigger’ blonder brother, the contrast between them almost funny. “Not gonna lie to you, Red Shep,” he tilted his head to the side, “Not saying that you don’t deserve it or nothing but I am kinda surprised they gave it to you.”

If Jane’s jaw could tighten any further, it would have. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, look at Big Shep over there.” Zedd gestured lazily with his chin, said ‘Big Shep’ looking back at him with a warning glance. “He’s the Hero of the Alliance, the one who was all over the extranet. The one who plays by the rules and probably rescues kittens from trees on his weekends off. You’re… not.” 

There were a lot of things Red Shep was not, but not was honestly the nicest way to put it. “So why you, and not him?”

“Maybe they realized this isn’t a fight you can win by being polite.” The words came sharp and fast, a reflex, but Zedd saw it anyway. 

The tiny flicker in her green eyes before the armor slammed back down over her face. 

Yeah, she’s been asking herself the same thing.

John slowed down to let the distance close, Kaidan and Ashley passing him, until Jane, Zedd and himself were a tight, uncomfortable cluster in the middle of the hallway. “Don’t worry. They made the right choice.”

Oh… Zedd shut his mouth, lips pursing.

Jane stared up the full foot of height to meet her brother’s eyes. “You think?”

“I know.” John smiled at her. “Come on, SPECTREs are the best of the best and I don’t know anyone better than you, Janey.”

“It should have been you.” Jane looked away, voice losing a bit of its edge. “You’re the good one here.”

“And I’m the one they’d dismiss as a traumatized soldier with delusions.” The facts were cold and hard but John delivered them with all the warmth he could. “You… they definitely can’t dismiss you. They can’t ignore Torfan.” He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing briefly. “And they definitely can’t dismiss us together. I’ve got your back. Always.”

I need an insulin shot. Zedd bit back a smile. Too sweet.

The moment broke when they reached the docking bay elevator as Anderson walked up to face them, Udina falling back. “Lieutenant Commander John Markus Shepard.”

The voice of command had everyone stop, aliens included; even Wrex grunting as he slowed down to nothing. “Effective immediately, I am relinquishing command of the SSV Normandy. You are hereby promoted to the rank of Commander, and the ship is yours.”

John blinked, the man suddenly stunned. “Captain… sir, I… I can’t.”

“You can, and you will.” Anderson left no room for argument in the order as he clapped John on the shoulder. “Origins aside, the Normandy is fully an Alliance vessel and your sister’s going to need someone who has her back on the ground. It needs a Spectre’s crew, led by a commander who understands the mission. My fight is back here, dealing with the political fallout from this mess.” 

Captain Anderson nodded toward the airlock of the SR-1. “The two of you… your fight… is out there. Make me proud.”

Anderson turned, the old man’s eyes locking onto Zedd with — a little rude, but okay — the look of a man staring at a ticking bomb. “Victors, we need to talk.”