Massive Disaster 5-6A

“With all due respect, Captain...”

“You say that often, Commander.” His voice rumbled throughout the room, quiet but low enough to drown out the soft thrumming from the vents. “Yet I’m not sure you mean it as much as you think.”

“…with all due respect, Captain, we’re harboring a terrorist.”

The older man bit back a sigh, offering nothing more than that. 

Her words met with just silence, the angrier of the two Shepards continued pacing behind Anderson’s back as he kept his gaze firmly on the viewport in front of him. The blackness of space flew past as the SSV Normandy cut through the void like the silent blade it was, the combination of Alliance-Hierarchy overengineering proving its worth. 

“The reports I’ve read of him, some of his suspected actions in the Terminus, Captain, just the implications…” He didn’t even bother raising an eyebrow at the hypocrisy from the Butcher of Torfan herself, just offering her a slight nod as Jane Shepard continued on into minute five of her rant. “And now we’ve allowed a threat who’s made clear his intentions of undermining the Alliance into our dealings, onto our ship. The chaos he could cause…”

The ship was dealing with plenty of chaos and none of it to do with their guest, Commander Shepard’s misgivings aside. Alliance Marines and crew were still on high-alert after the attack on Eden Prime and the death of their accompanying Spectre. The former was already enough of a tragedy, an assault on a major human colony nothing to treat at all lightly.

Both at the same time? Simply put, even if Nihlus didn’t have his respect along with that of almost everyone else on the ship, his death alone would have been enough to mourn.

Captain Anderson didn’t bother turning around as he addressed the quietest person in his quarters. “John, any thoughts?”

The taller of the two Shepards, the XO of the Normandy, let out a hum before allowing himself any words. “None so far, Captain.” 

John Shepard’s voice came out somewhat heavy, the weight of it clear to Anderson’s ears. If he was at all tired, his XO was far moreso and for good reason, the man still recovering from the aftermath of what Eden Prime did to him. 

Only half a day since the Geth assault itself and the journey away from the Alliance’s premier colony had become something of a floating cold war, and even with their destination itself only hours away, things had not gone a long way to any proper sort of resolution. It certainly didn’t help that behind them, another ship followed close behind, having appeared like a ghost in the void, the sleek violet predator of a craft belonging to their current onboard VIP. 

Captain David Anderson finally turned around from where he stood behind his desk, a frown firmly on his face as he stared down at a surface cluttered with cups of emptied caf and stacks of datapads he had no intention of reading. 

Not anytime soon, at least.

Caf filled the air, the scent of it almost enough to filter out the smoke of a battle that felt like weeks ago in the rearview. The air-scrubbers were working hard, the thrum loud and present, as they did their best to rid his quarters of both. Not good enough.

Anderson rubbed a hand over his face, grit and sleep in his eyes an annoyance he no longer had the power to easily blink away. Two decades since he was capable of something like that, back when he was still the grunt with nothing but a trusted sidearm and no complications.

Across from him, John Shepard sat on a chair just in front of his desk, the pale-faced Marine doing his best to put on a strong front. While expected for an N7, it was especially impressive considering the state he’d been in just ten hours ago. He certainly looked better than he had then and, at the very least, he was no longer screaming at the top of his lungs.

In fact, the only real sign of the trauma the Prothean Beacon had inflicted on his XO was a majestic tapestry of purple and black alongside his neck that John was doing a honorable job of ignoring. Good soldier.

“He’s a variable, Captain.”

Jane, on the other hand, was proving once again why she wasn’t his XO. The redheaded Marine’s boots hit the deck plating with a rhythmic clack-clack-clack that was starting to give Anderson a dull throb of a migraine right behind the eyes. 

“The worst kind.” Her voice was tight, the words clipping off her tongue as she stood off to the side of her brother, looking like a nebula poured into an N7 hardsuit. “A massive, unaccountable variable with a private fleet and enough firepower to level at least one colony on his own.”

Anderson sighed as he sat back in his chair; the leather creaking as it accepted him back. “I don’t think you’re appreciating the situation on the ground, Commander.” Ironic, given her role as Ground Operations Commander, but he knew expecting Jane Shepard to appreciate something like that was asking a bit too much. “Without Victors and his… assets… the Geth would have overrun the colony instead of retreating. We’d be bringing back bodies, not a beacon.”

“We didn’t bring back the beacon either.” Jane turned, hard green eyes softening just a bit as they landed on the seated Shepard. “The thing… exploded all over my brother.”

“…I don’t appreciate that phrasing, Jane.”

She gestured vaguely in his direction, a sharp chopping motion waving him off as she barreled forward. “And now Victors is running tactical simulations on the deck like he owns the ship. I didn’t push before but he’s making it himself at home after only a few hours.”

Anderson leaned forward, eyes firm on Jane. “Is that your primary complaint, Jane?”

“No, sir.” She bit the word out. “It’s just too clean, in my opinion. He drops in, saves the day, and conveniently has been ‘researching the Geth and their systems for years’? It smells, sir. It smells like an op.”

John shifted in his chair, the man wincing slightly before masking it with a grin that didn’t quite reach his blue eyes. “You’re just mad he has better toys than we do, Janie.”

“I am not mad about the toys, Johnny,” Jane snapped back, eyes losing their softness as they turned back on him. “The man holding them, a hundred times yes. You saw his ship? The thing he calls the Jade? That’s a warship pretending to be a civ transport. It’s not standard. None of it is standard. And none of it makes sense.”

“He’s a citizen of the Systems Alliance.” Anderson knew his voice lacked the conviction he wanted it to have, but the convictions Jane had were the same he’d dealt with and dropped almost two years ago. “A powerful one, yes. “He picked up a datapad, just to have something to do with his hands. “But on our side and on the side of humanity, that’s what’s important.”

“Humanity,” Jane repeated, the word dripping with skepticism. “And so’s Cerberus. Doesn’t mean I want those psychos watching my six.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with my requesting his assistance earlier.” The captain raised an eyebrow. “You were downright needing him to accept.”

“I was securing resources you found necessary for the mission, sir.” Jane stiffened, teeth grinding each other down as she forced the words out. “That doesn’t mean I have to like the asset. Or trust it.”

It. Anderson raised an eyebrow. This mission will certainly go well.

“You know Janie, sir.” John chuckled, a low rasping sound as he jerked a thumb toward his sister. “No matter how hardheaded, she’d never go against command in front of a civilian.”

“If we can get back on my point,” Jane almost growled out the words, stepping closer to his desk and planting her hands on the metal surface. “Sir, we have to accept that his ultimate goal is undermining the strength and unity of the Alliance. Victors isn’t a philanthropist. He’s a warlord with a better PR department. And we’re allowing him free reign in our stomping grounds.”

“And what would you have me do, Commander?” Anderson’s voice dropped, palms flat to match the fuming Shepard. “Throw him in the brig? Fire on his ship? He’s a hero to the colonists and the chunk of humanity who effectively fled the Alliance. News vids are already praising the Engineer of Eden Prime. I need you to think past your sidearm for once.”

Like your brother. It went unsaid, but as Jane pushed off the desk, the captain knew he might as well have yelled it in her ear.

“I do think, sir,” Jane nodded. “And I think that when a man walks into every room with a gun that big, he intends to use it at some point. And he’s already pointed the barrel at us.”

“Noted,” Anderson lowered his head for a moment, hands clapsed in front of his chin. “If it will make you feel better, you can jeep an eye on him, Jane. But do it quietly. I don’t want a diplomatic incident before we even dock.”

Jane gave a sharp nod, as curt and as professional as she always did. “Aye, sir.” Without wasting a moment more, she spun on her heel and marched for the door, the clack-clack-clack of her boots fading as the door hissed shut behind her.

John watched her go, then looked back at the captain. “She does have a point, sir”

“I know,” Anderson finally allowed himself a sigh. “That’s what worries me.”