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"Have a seat," Anderson said, walking over to the cabin window and taking a quick look at the Arcturus station, part of which was visible behind thick armored glass. "They're in a hurry..." — the commander of the ship stroked the sensor for closing the armor with his finger, but did not press it, lowered his hand.
Settling into the desk chair, Shepard noticed the movement of the cabin owner's hand and became alert. An invitation to sit down is common, but "in a hurry" is already interesting and not standard. It seems that the commander of the ship really feels more at ease on board the frigate than on board the station. This is familiar, but... confirms Shepard's suspicions and fears related to his appointment.
"You've been assigned to the position of executive Officer, Captain." Anderson returned to his desk and sat down in his chair. "They were appointed... as part of an unusual procedure, which you have certainly noted. I won't hide it -I couldn't tell you much openly at the Station. The ship... was not even properly integrated into the reconnaissance frigate division subordinate to Admiral Mikhailovich. I still haven't seen any documents about his admission to the fleet, either paper or electronic, however, we, the crew and the crew of the frigate have been ordered to leave for Eden Prime in a few hours. The mission is special." Anderson hesitated for a few seconds, then continued. "The command of the Arcturian group is under pressure from the Presidium of the Alliance. They're having some kind of trouble with the Citadel Council, or rather, with the Spectr. With A Corps Of Spectr. Perhaps both with the Council and with the Corps. By the way, one of these "agents" is already on board the frigate. The Turian is Naylus Kraik." Anderson winced a little. "That's a bird-faced thing. The Corps, by the way, still does not consider it necessary to have its own ships and, for obvious reasons, tends to use ships of those races with which its agents have to interact. The Corps, by the way, still does not consider it necessary to have its own ships and, for obvious reasons, tends to use ships of those races with which its agents have to interact. Yes, the agent is a Turian, and the ship is also half more or less Turian. So there don't seem to be any particular contradictions here. To some extent, the Hierarchy does have some right to check how the ship, built according to the design provided by it, is operated. A common practice." Anderson was silent for a few seconds again. "The mission is specific, solely in the interests of the Citadel Council, to which the Spectre Corps is directly subordinate. You'll learn the details in time, Captain. In the meantime, I would like to note that there are more problems on the ship now than there are regulations. However, we will have to work with what we have now. And I'm glad to meet a colleague." Anderson laid an n-Seven badge on the table. Your personal badge.
John looked at the other man's face, looked at the badge, read the number and the code. Anderson reacted calmly to the distrust shown:
"Yes, Shepard. I am the same David Anderson," said the frigate commander. "He was born in the year two thousand one hundred and thirty-seventh, graduated from the Officer Academy in the year two thousand one hundred and fifty-seventh with the rank of second lieutenant, took part in the settlement of the incident in Shanxi. I was married and divorced my wife in two thousand one hundred and sixty-five. She was extremely unhappy that I was paying too much attention to military service." Anderson paused. "Then... I was looking for Kali Sanders in the Artifact case," there was another pause. This year, the Normandy SR-1 was finally launched, with its design and construction sponsored by the Citadel Council." The commander of the ship was silent for a few seconds again. "Political games... are incomprehensible to me, of little interest and of little value. It so happened that I was appointed to the position of commander of this ship after a long period of... inactivity." Anderson placed a small reader on the countertop. "There is a lot of information in a large reader. I'm sure you'll get to know her later, Shepard. And here," he slid a small reader across the tabletop to his interlocutor, "this information is presented in a shorter and more accessible way. The main thing is to keep it short. So check it out. And I think you should get to know the officers, and not only the officers, but the crew of the ship. It's time for a commander's tour soon, and we'll be able to do it together."
Shepard nodded, turned on the device and went deep into reading the contents of the files.
In this reader, the information necessary for the officer who took office was presented much more briefly and easily. Perhaps it was adapted by Anderson himself.
"You're right, Shepard," the frigate's owner nodded. I "cleaned" the information myself. When I had to deal with the accepted ship and crew a few days ago," the cabin owner said quietly. "We got caught at headquarters... we had to fight our way through. "Anderson got up and went to the porthole. Apparently, he didn't want to stop his officer from getting to know the contents of the files.
Ten minutes had passed, and Shepard turned off the reader and put it on the countertop. Anderson did not turn around, but looked at the Arcturus station. Silence fell in the cabin and Shepard was finally able to understand that his premonition turned out to be timely, correct and complete — he had been assigned to a really problematic ship.
The fact that his commander turned out to be David Anderson, who was described in MSF the Alliance of Systems as a semi-legendary personality, was alarming and at the same time reassuring — at least he, Shepard, would work under the guidance of one of the best graduates of the N-Seven Academy, and not under the guidance of an ordinary naval commander of the ship.
The problematic frigate under Anderson's control no longer seemed so problematic to Shepard — the n-sevens were taught to cope with less difficulties. They taught me well.
Anderson came up to the table, pressed several sensors on the laptop, read the information from its screen.
"I'll leave both readers to you, John." He waited while Shepard packed the devices into a waist pack. Almost everything is ready for departure on board. Let's go." Let's start getting to know the ship and the crew.
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