Rebirth The Mass Effect is old. part 10

Chapter 10: Problems

At exactly eight o'clock in the morning, Galactic time, the entire crew of the Normandy was in place. The ship was preparing for departure, people were checking the systems, fixing minor problems and fiddling with the settings. And I thoughtfully studied the list of the crew and the reasonable ones assigned to the "Norm". And by the end of the list, I was, frankly, in a state of mild prostration. They took off the combat squad, but they left a dozen parasites from the military police! What the fuck do I need on board a ton of lightly armed meat standing at the door and a special agent poking his nose where he shouldn't? You can't even send them into battle — they're not supposed to! Farther. The squad was removed, but Ashley and Alenko were left behind. Where is the logic? Take these two and give me Dylan and Darg back! Okay, at least one Darg! I'm trading in Ashley, Alenko, and all the fuckers from the military police. I can even give someone else away as a bonus. Except for the Joker, Karin, and Greg. I'm even willing to give Pressley away in exchange for Darg and Dylan. Oh well. Why dream of the impossible?

The actions of the authorities left strong suspicions, and I dialed Anderson's number. Maybe he can clarify something?

The captain replied quickly:

"Is Shepard's spectr?"

"Captain Anderson. Do you have the opportunity to speak?"

"Yes."

"Why did they leave an Alliance military police unit on the Normandy?" I asked bluntly.

"Those are the rules. A military police team must be present on the Alliance ships."

"As far as I know, the Normandy has been withdrawn from the fleet and transferred to the Spectr."

"Withdrawn. Do you want to get off the ship?" The captain asked ironically

"Can I?"

"You have the right. As A Spectr Of Cansel. But the command of the Air Force will not appreciate it."

"What should I do for this?"

"Just order it."

"Why did Williams and Alenko leave?"

"Ashley Williams has been accepted by you into the combat squad. Kayden Alenko was left on board as a participant in the events on Eden Prime."

"Are they subordinate to me or to the leadership of the MSF?"

"The leadership of the Alliance's Air Force." Anderson smiled faintly at the corners of his lips. "I have left the documents and orders for you and the Normandy in the captain's cabin."

"Thank you, Captain."

Anderson gave me a reassuring smile. The connection was lost, and I went to my cabin. The documents were found in the desk. Settling down on the bed, I immersed myself in reading these very documents, waiting with all my heart for some kind of nastiness. The setup didn't take long to appear: the clearer the picture unfolded before my eyes, the more I realized what kind of ass I was in, and how beautifully the command framed me and firmly chained me up. The "gift" to Normandy is a generous gesture at first glance. The native authorities voluntarily give me the newest ship, like, you need a private taxi, you are the first Spectr, blah blah blah about pride and honor, in short, use it and remember that the Motherland will not forget you. Yeah, I didn't even doubt that. They'll forget, of course. This is my pink dream, absolutely unattainable. In the original, Shepard won't even be allowed to die like a human, but will be captured in space and put into action in a second round. Of course, to lose such a well-promoted brand as a Hero!

Okay, let's look further. The Normandy was indeed withdrawn from the fleet, but as a combat ship belonging to the Alliance, it was transferred to some unknown civilian or military unit, the S-1, which reports to no one knows who. And I was there, according to the order, exactly half a day before I was appointed Spectr. Was I given to Cerberus like that? Very similar! That is, I am a citizen of the Alliance, I don't understand what status, I don't understand with what duties and rights, and I don't understand who I obey! I don't have any data on this strange division, and I suspect I'll be able to find it even with the help of a Gray Intermediary. Farther. All the provision of the "Norm" goes through this strange office. And I don't understand what kind of sucker I'm on. They don't pay me any money, I don't have a title, and my status is unclear. What am I anyway according to these documents?

Damn it! I'll survive Lazarus, I'll buy Anderson a personal trough with a box of dough and a huge bar! For these pieces of paper and for the thick hint. He's really worried about me. And he understands what kind of ass I'm in and what kind of turn I'm being taken into.

A One-time Hero. Okay, reusable! There is even a Lazarus project, and I doubt that SUCH a thing is born in two years.

The situation is super simple! At least go and ask for political asylum from the Council. Or the Sovereign The Nazars. It's also a good option. With such a superior, the Ruler is generally the very nobility and honesty in the flesh! Oh well. As a last resort, I'll die. Is this the first time? Although it's a pity, I have personal plans here that I would like to make a reality before heroically throwing my hooves away.

Laughing angrily softly, I put the documents away. If it hadn't been for that fucking Lazarus and the key point, we could have taken action now, but we can't. Therefore, it is necessary to prepare the ground for the future and assemble a team. And the authorities will breathe a sigh of relief if I don't accept the situation with cow-like resignation, but do something. Like, the kid believed it. Well, well...

The documents dissolved in my hands. My personal spatial pocket is not able to accommodate much, especially now, but one file got in, although I feel like I moved a monorail car on my back.

The cold door cooled his hot head pleasantly. I stood with my forehead against the metal and slowly calmed down. There's nothing I can do right now. Must not. But then... Then we'll see. In the meantime, we should take care of the ship.

An hour later, the Special Forces military police squad was evicted, and the Normandy, having moored from the Citadel, headed for the repeater. We have a little over three hours to fly to this miracle of Reaper engineering, and then jump into the Tau of Artemis.

This sector includes four systems: Macedonia, Athens, Knossos and Sparta. The information from the Council did not specify which system Liara works in. I didn't remember that for sure either, but the name of the planet stuck in my memory: Terum. I think the Joker will be able to tell you which system this planet is in.

There was no one else in the control room except the Joker. I dropped into the ever-empty copilot's seat and greeted the pilot with a nod.

"You don't look well, Rir." The Joker glanced at me briefly. "You haven't slept for half the night again?"

I shrugged my shoulders vaguely.

"You see everything, Joker."

"Well, who else will look after you, Captain?" Moreau chuckled. "And yet, Rir, did something happen?"

"Problems, Jeff. Future and current ones. I have a bad feeling about this."

"How was Eden Prime?"

"Worse."

We were silent for a while. I watched Jeff lead the Norma to the repeater, weaving through the dense traffic, lazily sprawled in a chair. I managed to establish a relationship with the Joker. Moreau was a guy with a developed sense of humor and was attracted to people. As soon as I showed my true character, talked to him like a human being, without the husk of officiousness and Regulations, Jeff thawed and quickly accepted me into the inner circle. However, sometimes he still squints. He doesn't believe it. I still can't believe that Eden Prime changed me so much.

"Where are we going?"

"The Terum. The planet is somewhere in the Tau sector of Artemis."

"I know. An industrial planet in the Knossos system. A hot garbage dump, rich in heavy metals. What are we doing there?"

"Dr. Liara T"Sony. She's been studying Prothean ruins, and Therum has plenty of them. Daughter of the matriarch of Benesia."

"Do you need her as a prisoner? Or..."

"I hope for or." I caught the Joker's amused look. "what?"

"At this rate, you'll soon have more non-humans than humans on your ship."

"Do you have something against it?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I don't trust them." the guy confessed. "The same Nihlus..."

"And what about Nihlus? Look deeper, Jeff. Don't look at your appearance. Don't look at official behavior and words. Try to see the personality." I smiled. "And then you will have a surprise waiting for you. Nihlus will not let you down or betray you. Like all Turians, he is painfully honest. Fortunately, at least he's not too fixated on subordination and hierarchy, if what I've heard about him is true. However, this is a feature of his civilization. Tell me, Jeff, do you find many PEOPLE like that?"

The Joker sighed sadly, accepting that I was right.

"You used to be more... categorically."

"Stupid because I was." shrugging my shoulders, I easily admitted. "Xenophobia is a disease of the mind that is unable to overcome its fears and stereotypes and prejudices invented by someone. It doesn't matter to me which race my subordinate belongs to. And, even more so, a friend. Friends are too valuable and rare to select them based on race. You either have a friend or you don't have one. It doesn't matter what color his blood is, how many fingers he has on his hands, or what kind of face he has."

A wave of surprise and thoughtfulness suddenly flashed from the entrance to the control room, and I could barely resist the urge to turn around. Instead, I shifted slightly, catching a reflection on the polished side of the console. She peered into the murky spot and barely suppressed a smile: Garrus was standing at the door.

"Ashley won't agree with you."

"That's Ashley's problem. If she doesn't change her mind about the new team members, I'll say goodbye to her."

"Cruelly."

"Jeff, I've been given Spectr status. It is a great honor and no less a huge responsibility. Not only for people, but for everyone else. I will be watched very carefully. I have no right to demonstrate xenophobia. And I don't want to."

The murky reflection was gone: the tactful Turian had left as silently as he had come, unwilling to eavesdrop on a conversation not meant for his ears.

"How long do we have to fly?"

"A couple of hours to the repeater and eight days to Knossos. There's still five hours from the repeater to the planet."

"Long."

"We're flying across the galaxy." Jeff shrugged his shoulders. "It's fast. Six jumps will have to be made. I couldn't cut any more."

"I won't distract you. If you need anything... Well, you know." Jeff smiled and nodded, without taking his eyes off the ugly Azarian ship weaving in front of us.

"The XO wanted to see you." The Joker called after me.

I nodded and left the control room. I wonder if in reality the XO will also reproach me with aliens on board? Considering the general level of xenophobia in the Navy... Most likely, yes, it will. Especially for the Turians. However, as far as I remember, over time he got used to it and even became friends with someone. As much as possible for a military man to the core.

The conversation with the XO brought nothing new, except that it left a slight aftertaste of irritation. Pressley did not directly reproach me for anything, but indirectly pointed out the inadmissibility of the presence of aliens on board. You see, this is a matter for humanity, and it's not a good idea to ask for outside help. Yeah... of course... We are steeper than a dunghill, and the mountains tremble from our might. We don't need anyone! Is it okay that the only real fighters on my ship are Rex and Garrus? Tali is a technician, and he's not even able to fend off bandits right now. Ashley can kick me or hand me over to the Alliance command if I decide to "step left, step right." Kayden is generally a separate song. A biotic with L2 is a dangerous implant that can either lead to psychosis or burn out the last brains. I just don't talk about wild migraines. What kind of fighter is he if he can barely think from the pain in his head? What about overreaction to bright lights and noise? And there is nothing to help him — L2 cannot be withdrawn!

I'll have to find out on occasion what the authorities were guided by when they recalled the combat group, leaving me with an aggressive xenophobic and a disabled biotic. The fact that Garrus, Rex, and Tali were on board was my merit and, in general, an accident. Naylus hasn't been a fighter for another ten days. With a natural recovery, it takes two or three decades.

It's going to be bad on Therum...

Anyway, in this state, I entered the lounge, which is also the recreation area, where I found the aliens I was looking for and Ashley, who was unhappy with their presence. The atmosphere was pre-storm: Garrus was furious, Tali was offended and silent, Rex didn't give a damn, and Ashley was fuming and gurgling. Don't you understand? Did they have a fight?

"What happened here?"

"Irene's spectr." When I heard the cold rasping voice of the Turian, I wanted to bang my head against the wall. "Your crew members do not agree with our presence on board."

That's why I love Turians, so it's for honesty and directness! And the ability to think fast!

"That's how?" My voice took on a deceptive softness. "Ashley?"

"Saren attacked our colony. We have to stop him!" The girl said hotly, clenching her fists. "Humanity solves its own problems!"

Great Gods and Demons, give me patience! Otherwise, I'll throw it out somewhere along the way and say that I fell out myself!

"Tell them we don't need their help." Garrus shuddered at my affectionate tone and exchanged glances with Tali, while Rex emerged from his phlegmatic state, listening with interest to the conversation. Or that Garrus is a Turian and should not be trusted."

Ashley must have felt something, too, because she immediately backed off.

"I'm sorry, Commander. I had no right to say that."

It's too late, my dear! I'm not going to fix your brain! I'll still have someone to mess with and practice the science of brain surgery and shrinkage!

"I'm NOT a commander. Having received Spectr status, I officially withdrew from the Alliance's military space forces. I, as a Spectrum, DO NOT OBEY the Alliance's MSF. Only the Citadel Council. The Normandy was withdrawn from the fleet and, roughly speaking, given to me. From dear superiors to the first Spectr-to a person." Venom dripped from his fangs: he couldn't contain his sarcastic irony. "Only the Council sets tasks for me. I can take into account the recommendations and wishes of the Alliance's Air Force, but they have no right to order me. Am I making myself clear?"