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Chapter 1. captain MSF The Alliance Systems John Shepard.
— John, thanks to you. — girl has opened eyes, her a little sleepy view was touching faces young human, lying nearby with her. — you wizard. Well, what I had managed to arrive for to you. You are stressfuling?
— Yes, Dayna. — Had said Shepard. — I have such feeling. What I now not soon had returned to the Earth.
— That's your... — had said girl, rising up on the elbows and looking around semi — dark a room. It was early morning and through heavy drapes the dawn the sun breaking through with a big difficult.
— Exactly. They held in reserve and now I have feeling, what's today or tomorrow order will arrive. — Had confirmed John.
— Then even more so good what have I done to come to you until how sent you away... Far, far away. You are guessing?
— Yes. Us Special forces, usually on simple sides they don't prescribe. Means, there will be something complicated and problematic. — Young human hugged The girl By the shoulders. — Day, relax. I'm still around with you and courier from the headquarters did not arrived yet and he doesn't knock through the door.
— John, it's been a long time... since...
— Finish it, Dayna, finish it. — softly Shepard said. — I already... calmed down about it reason.
— If that's what you want Johnny, then... It's been six years even a little more after that how did you get back from Akusa... — timidly girl said, caressing a young man face with her gaze.
— You of course all these years far from being idle you barely got out of the hospital, but...
— Dayna... I want to fly and Don't just sit on the planet and change polygon after polygon. — The captain said throwing back the blanket and sitting up in bed. Dayna immediately clung to his back. She put her arms around his shoulders and snorted lightly in the right ear. It was their special sign propensity. — The training ground for me — Good, but not enough. And... if I'm not mistaken. That's what the higher powers have prepared for me... a serious test.
— Aren't you too...
— No, Day. No. — Shepard shook his head pulling on sweatpants and getting up. — Thank you. We had a great night.
— It's beautiful, Johnny. Agree. — Dayna turned over on her other side. She had sat up in bed, groped for her robe without looking. She stood up simultaneously throwing on his heated body. — Thank you too. She headed for the door bathroom, padding with bare feet on plastic tiles. Johnny, don't go around in the galley. I'll get everything ready.
"Dana," Shepard said, a little reproachfully, turning and seeing as the girl disappears through the bathroom door.
— I know, I know, but try anyway. — It came from behind the door.
Shepard grinned with satisfaction. Dana was in her repertoire. She knew perfectly well. That he wouldn't let her go around in the galley — a small kitchen unit the captain's MSF bachelor apartment And he'll cook breakfast himself.
Early breakfast. He had a day off today. There were no polygons in sight, official tasks have been completed completely and he could control himself for today in weekend mode.
Dana was dropped out bathrobe and was stepped on an enameled pallet shower cabins, Slamming for yourself door and at the same time including water. She was satisfied. John gave it to her once again, a magical night and they spent nearby and together several very pleasant hours. They said, silent, hugged, kissed. For her John was the first with love. She was his first love, too. Since then, they have maintained a close relationship. Since they both left walls the orphanage.
Standing under the steadily changing force and temperature of the jets. Dayna hummed a simple tune, exposing her back and chest to the sprayers. And she knew that John could hear her singing. He hears and rejoices — she certainly knew him.... as if it had been peeled off. The specifics of the orphanage — It's very difficult to survive there in any other way.
John went into the kitchen, turned on the stove, and took out containers of semi-finished products from the cabinets. A few minutes — and a hearty breakfast is set to warm up. A slight sizzle is heard. Neither he nor Dayna liked anything particularly fried. Just a little bit to brown it. Removing the pan from the heat, Shepard put it on a stand. He put away the potholder and looked at the boiling kettle, which was singing its song. He opened a pack of tea — the kind Dayna loved. I poured the tea leaves into a cup, added two pieces of sugar — His Girlfriend wasn't a sweet tooth, but she didn't mind a little, very slight sweetening of her favorite drink. In this, their tastes coincided. John was quietly drinking tea of the varieties, which one she liked. And Dayna didn't mind spending a lot of time with the varieties, which one of tea he liked on rare occasions.
After arranging the casserole on plates, Shepard rummaged in the small refrigerator. He took out butter, bread, and made sandwiches. Thinly sliced bread — so that it does not break, but also does not resemble uncomfortable biting off the "couscous" in Dayna's words. A thin layer of butter — directly cut off with a sharp knife from a piece wrapped in a plastic pack. Top with either cheese or sausage. Low-fat, not smoked, plain. The captain took out a basket of cookies and lollipops from the locker. Dayna loved both, and he knew her tastes well, guessing that she was aware of his preferences. When she was cooking — he was calm because Dayna clearly and completely guessed his mood in detail and was never mistaken which of the rather meager list of gastronomic preferences should be served on the table so that John would be satisfied.
The murmur and splash of water was replaced by the hum of a hair dryer — Dayna dried her hair first — just a little bit, so that they were barely wet. She didn't like to overdo it. She always tried to comb them. She liked simple hairstyles. It was impossible to do anything else with her sports career, although there were several events at which Dayna appeared with a model haircut. Shepard was pleased and she knew that he would accept any of her. Life in an orphanage was not conducive to excess. And Dayna has been involved in sports schools since she was seven years old and traveled endlessly to training camps, training sessions, and competitions. Mode, limits, accuracy, clarity — It was as familiar to her as breathing air.
"You've already made breakfast.", the girl appeared on the threshold of the bathroom, dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. Her flip-flops were open, and Dayna never bothered with pedicures. But she respected manicures as much as the requirements of the sports code allowed.
Stopping at the table, she hugged Shepard, who came up to her, snuggled up to him, kissed him on the cheek and froze. "Thanks, Johnny. You are my joy."
The captain nodded, hugged her, lifted her up, carried her closer to an empty chair, sat her down, and pushed her to the table.
Dayna nodded — she liked the action, was completely satisfied with both the type of dishes and the aroma.
"John, sit down. Let's have breakfast. What are your plans for today?"
"I'm free, Dayna."
"I don't have any urgent business either. And?" The girl looked at Shepard questioningly.
"I would suggest, Dey, that we spend the day together today... well..." He squinted at the bed.
"I don't mind, John." Dayna nodded, starting to eat. "I don't mind", she chewed on a portion of casserole. "Delicious. Thanks, Johnny."
"I'm glad you liked it." Shepard also armed himself with a fork and knife, and began to devour the casserole. "I poured the tea into small cups. Or..."
"Don't be big, Johnny." Dayna grinned, shaking her head slightly, causing her ponytail hair to whip over her shoulders. "Don't do it today."
"Okay",— the captain nodded.
After breakfast, Dayna went out onto the balcony, where she usually spent a quarter of an hour in complete immobility in the morning. Shepard didn't know if it was meditation or his girlfriend's habit. He wasn't interested in getting into the details — Dana may have her own reasons for doing this, but not otherwise — let her do it. Through the glass, he saw how the girl sat down in a wicker chair and, assuming a free, relaxed pose, froze. She must have closed her eyes.
While she was "meditating," Shepard tidied up the table, washed and put plates and cups to dry. He did not look at Dayna — he respected her right to a calm "detachment from the world." She'll come when she wants to.
"You're feeling a little better, Johnny." Dayna purred as they lay down on the bed and hugged each other again. "Probably..."
"It's probably only because of you, Day." Shepard said softly.
"Thanks, John." Dayna rubbed the tip of her nose against Shepard's nose and kissed him on the lips. "I am happy and satisfied."
"Me too." the captain returned the kiss, hugged the girl harder. "We'll lie around..."
"Yes. Until you get bored. And we won't get tired of it today for a very long time." Dayna declared.
And it was absolutely true. They were lying on a large double bed and had forgotten very securely about everything in the world. Except for ourselves.
* * *
The doorbell caught them... off guard. Dayna Shepard realized from the changed face that she had already set herself up for the worst that could happen now — a visit from a courier from headquarters.
The captain silently got out of bed, pulled on a T-shirt and sweatpants, slipped his feet into flip-flops, went to the door, opened it. A courier sergeant stood in the doorway.
"Captain Shepard. You need a package." the sergeant, recognizing the officer, handed over the envelope, waited until the landlord signed the bill, saluted, turned around and "spilled" down the stairs, ignoring the elevator.
John closed the door, opened the package, and took out a folded sheet of plastic. A battle order. Not an ordinary one, but a combat one. Clear and incomprehensible. To go there then and there. Or rather, to arrive at the division headquarters at the Arcturus station. Exactly at twenty-three oh-zero of these days. Standard time.
"A challenge?" — Dayna's quiet voice came from behind. "May I?" She grabbed an open plastic sheet. "Challenge. I knew it." There was bitterness in the girl's voice. "I'll walk you out."
Instead of answering, Shepard turned to her. He hugged her and kissed her on the forehead. She clung to him trustingly, hugged him. "That's the end of our... free days...." She said softly. "For a long time... over."
Shepard didn't nod, he just hugged the girl a little tighter, kissing the top of her head. He knew that she needed this kiss now and was more important than any words. And he was not mistaken — Dayna, who was sniffling, raised her head, fixed a gentle and questioning look into his eyes. "John... Come back... to me. I... will be waiting. And write to me... please."
Shepard nodded silently, realizing that Dane wouldn't take anything he said out loud right now. Just that nod. She, like no one else, was able to read it on very deep levels.
Satisfied with John's reaction, Dayna opened her arms and stepped back. She turned around and headed for the kitchen. Incorrigible — she's about to cook a whole bag of food. And it's useless to stop her. John has already seen this more than once. No, if he doesn't take the bag, she won't be offended. He would only close himself off, but for him, a closed Dayna... was unacceptable, and he would do everything to open her up. She knows about it.
While assembling the alarming case, Shepard methodically checked the list, checked the expiration dates, and clarified the integrity of the packages. The combat order required such a procedure. You never know where you'll have to go from the Arcturus station.
From this station, where the government structures and headquarters sectors of MSF the Alliance of Systems were located, ships could go to such God-forsaken corners of the Galaxy that ... one had to forget about the imminent return for a long time. So the pre-assembled briefcase — and Shepard also had it in his bachelor apartment — would have been useful if the question had not been about the flight to the Arcturus.
When he finished packing his briefcase, Shepard put it by the door. He opened the closet doors and put on his uniform. The usual uniform of an MSF Alliance Special Forces officer. No, he did not attach the "En-Seven" sign to its designated place — there was no need for that. Those who need to know about his skill level, but the rest of us don't need to know right now.
Dayna got ready too. A modest plain dress, a small handbag. A sports career teaches you to be organized — a girl got ready quickly and did not waste time on a complete makeover. So, I just "painted up" a little. Shepard could easily read the tension and excitement in her Girlfriend's eyes.
"A military spaceport?" she clarified, bending down and adjusting the slightly stray strap on her shoe.
"Yes." Shepard closed the omny-tool screen. "The flyer is already waiting."
Dayna straightened up, nodded, picked up her purse, and took John by the elbow.
They came out of the entrance. Autumn. Warm, slightly rainy. Rain was promised in the evening, but now the sky was just beginning to frown, confirming the Prognosis of weather forecasters. Settling into the cabin of the hired flyer, Shepard hugged Dayna and pressed the sensor on the remote control to allow the car to follow the route. Of course, he could have taken the controls himself — the status allowed him to pilot such machines in manual mode, but Dayna was too tense and he did not want to let her out of his arms. It is not yet known when he will be able to return to her, so let Dayna be with him for as long as possible.
Hugging the girl, Shepard looked at the cubes of houses floating far below, at people like small bugs scurrying through the streets and alleys. Chester, a small town on the River Dee, was left far behind in just a few minutes. The British scale is, of course, significant, but compared to other countries... quite average.
Dayna was silent. She was always silent at such moments, experiencing the sharpness and uncertainty inside herself. For her, John was familiar and valuable, she did not want to worry him once again. She's staying here, she's got a series of training sessions ahead of her, two training camps, and the next regional competitions in... what difference does it make now? And he has...What awaits John? Is it possible to say in advance?!... So she didn't try. She waited for him from Akusa, visited him in the hospital, then they met regularly when he was sent to the reserve of MSF the Alliance Command. Specialists like John are always kept in reserve.... When they keep it for a long time, when they don't. She was glad that John was here, that he was near, on Earth.
Yes, he was swept around the planet — the service, everything. But Dayna was glad that John hardly ever left the atmospheric shield. He haven't left very often yet. And now... Now, as she clearly felt, there was a long separation ahead. There's a shuttle waiting for John, and there's...That's where Arcturus is, an Alliance of Systems government station. You can't get there that easily, but John's status allows him to fly there safely and freely. If necessary, of course. Just like that, John doesn't fly anywhere — only if there is a need and an order.
* * *
Sighing, the girl rested her head on John's shoulder. The towers of the British military spaceport were already looming ahead. Numbered high-security object. However, for those who see off to the shuttle, everything is the same as at a civilian spaceport.
She would have to watch John for a very long time as he walked away to the tunnel leading to the shuttle hall. That was the last thing she saw when he was on an emergency flight to Akusa... And then he returned from there by medical transport and immediately became a patient of a military hospital for a long time.
How she was afraid for him then! After all, he was the only survivor of several dozen commandos. These worms are... threshers... Dana didn't know much about what had happened there, except within the information provided by Earth's news agencies. The news reports described the events in which John took part in different ways. And Shepard himself...He never "loaded" her with stories about what happened on Akusa. He hid it, he didn't want to worry, apparently. She was grateful to him for that, although she understood that it was very difficult for him there.
And now it's not easy for him either. This order is incomprehensible. An incomprehensible shape. A battle order?! There is peace all around, humanity is not waging any war with anyone outside the Solar System — and suddenly this. Of course, John is a special person, an n-seven, a special forces soldier. Maybe such orders are common for them, but for her, of course, it's excitement and acute anxiety. And now it seems to her constantly, literally every second, that she will now meet John ... it will be a very long time.
* * *
After disembarking from the flyer at the passenger terminal of the departure area, Dayna looked around: little had changed here. Of course, the spaceport was a military one, so special liberties were not allowed here, but, as she had assumed, there were no inexplicable restrictions for those who saw off the shuttles.
Shepard adjusted his uniform, released the car by pressing several sensors on his officer's wristwatch omny tool, picked up an alarm case and a bag of provisions, and then looked at the tense girl.
"Day?" he asked softly, seeing how she continued to look around. Shepard knew she was curious, and he didn't see anything wrong with that, considering it a common personality trait, but now Dayna was clearly stalling.
"I'll... I'll be right there, John." She continued to look around, because there was something to see here — there was a beautiful view of the launch pads from here.
Shuttles and shuttles took off, landed, hovered, people flew in, flew out, and worked in designated safe areas of the landing and launch area.
"Few changes. Very little" She shook her head, causing her loose hair to cover her shoulders in a solid black wave. "Let's go" She said decisively, picking up her purse.
At the check-in desk, Shepard presented the order to a dashing Alliance MSF chief. After making an instant identification, he nodded, returned the order form to the officer, and issued a boarding order — a small piece of thick grayish plastic paper.
Dayna read the number and code of the boarding terminal from over Shepard's shoulder, looked around, singled out the right one, but did not hurry to leave the counter.
Sheppard understood her reluctance to hurry, and resolutely headed for the rows of seats in the waiting area.
"John." Dana looked up at her companion gently but insistently. "I'm uneasy.... I beg...Remember that I'm waiting for you... alive. The rest is not important. I'll accept anyone you want. The main thing is to come back. Come back alive... please," she did not try to make sure that he hugged her.
That's how she's always been-independent and vulnerable at the same time. For John. For others, it is stable and solid. Few people knew Dayna the way John knew her.
Shepard hesitated, then slowly, very slowly, so that she would remember, he nodded. He knew she would take the nod the right way. Without words. Words in their communication, in their attitude, have long played a minor role. Dayna understood him without words, and he understood Dayna without words.
For several minutes they stood facing each other next to the "ribbons" of empty semi-upholstered chairs. The cosmodrome staff, accustomed to the scenes of farewell, passed by without pausing, without looking at the young man and the girl.
* * *
A short melodious signal sounded, then a synthesized pleasant female voice clearly announced the arrival of a passenger shuttle at the exit indicated in the departure documents.
A deliverer has arrived in Earth's orbit, a small military passenger spacecraft ship that carried out regular flights from the Arcturus station to Earth's orbit.
"He's here," Dana breathed, taking her time to grab her bag. Shepard picked up his briefcase and bag from the floor, slowly turned around and headed for the right entrance terminal.
The escorts were not allowed to go any further, and after presenting his documents and an order to the second lieutenant on duty at the terminal, he turned to Dana.
The "junior" looked at the screen of his console — he understood that the officer needed to say goodbye to his companion here, since the way was closed for her.
"Dayna... Thank you." John hugged the girl, who clung to him, hiding her desire to cry. "I'll... I'll be back. You write... I'll write to you," John promised. "As soon as possible... I will definitely write to you." He hugged her gently, and she hugged him tighter.
Strong. Physically and spiritually strong and whole. A true girlfriend for him, a soldier and an officer. She doesn't know how to talk about trifles, she knows what discipline and order are from her own rich experience. And at the same time — able to open up to him, to appear gentle and vulnerable. Trusting him with all of herself over and over again.
"Johnny..." Dayna called him as she had only ever called him. With the same intonation, with the same timbre as the first time... "Come back... alive. I... I'm waiting for you and I... love you. Come back," She looked up at him, let him wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes with his fingers, and stepped back, realizing that there was no more time. "Come back alive... please..." Her nervous fingers fiddled with the handle of her purse.
"I love you, Dayna," Shepard said, picking up his briefcase and bag, turning to the opening doors of the boarding entrance and taking a step out the threshold. He wasn't very good at saying goodbye, especially to Dayna.
* * *
In the shuttle's cabin, he nodded to the other officers and sergeants and petty officers-protocol and ritual, there was no escaping it.
Civilian life, and now peaceful life, remained beyond the threshold of the boarding entrance arch. Where Dana remained, watching him go until he stepped onto the travelator's ribbon, which carried him down to the tunnels of the shuttle exits. He could feel her gaze-intense, loving, tender, inviting.
Many people would consider such a relationship strange and unacceptable. Many. Shepard knew that it was not always those who became people's first love who later crossed the line of platonic relationships and embarked on a path leading to the formation of a family and the birth of desirable children together. But it was different for him and Dayna, the children of the orphanage. They had been building their relationship for several years and then, when they came out of the orphanage into an independent life, they got their first apartments and did not move away from each other.
Shepard never put pressure on Dayna, did not limit her right to lead her own life, to meet with friends. And she... she decided to keep in touch with him. Not only to preserve, but also to develop. She accompanied him to the army when he flew to "training" from the same terminal of departure of the military cosmodrome. She wrote letters to him, she replied to his letters.
Yes, rarely, but she wrote. After all, her life was stressful: she made the difficult decision to enter professional sports while still in the orphanage. And since then, a series of training sessions, training camps, field trips, competitions, championships, and Olympiads have become familiar to her.
She quickly achieved significant success, became convinced that this life was suitable for her, that it was acceptable to her. Behind every medal, behind every diploma, there was her tremendous work. That's why Dayna understood Shepard so accurately, deeply, and completely when he decided to try to become a professional Special Forces soldier. Yes, they met very rarely. For a very short time. And Dayna was able to fill these minutes of meetings to capacity. Meaning. The content. A value. John was important to her.
They hadn't thought about the baby or the wedding yet. We met and loved each other. Dayna knew a lot about John's work and service, and he knew a lot about her athletic career. And they talked about more than that over and over during the meetings. They talked about many other things. We went to museums, exhibitions, concerts, new films. They were free to choose and surprisingly suited each other.
Shepard didn't rush Dayna. He didn't talk about the wedding or the children. Although, of course, he meant all this. But he didn't rush it. He did not insist that all this should happen like this — very quickly and in the very near future.
Dayna was delighted and pleased to hear that her John had become a student at the N-Seven Academy. And then... then I sincerely congratulated him, my John, on being awarded the highest qualification category. It was very important to her — she never doubted John's ability to reach the top.
Watching his shrinking figure, Dayna realized more and more acutely that now... now something very important and very big had changed. Not in their relationship, no. Everything remained the same here, and therefore she did not focus her attention on it.
Here, in the departure hall of the spaceport, she felt that something black was standing in front of John. Something that would no longer allow him to write or fly to her as often. And this black can consume not only John, but also many other warriors. She felt very uneasy on the soul. She couldn't explain it in words, but... she was afraid, worried.
Now John wasn't just going to serve, he was going... to war. Probably, only she knew what she should have said "to the war", to say inwardly, silently.
She did not feel such fear for John even when he wrote to her that he had received an order to fly to Akusa. And then... then she found out about the deaths of fifty commandos who were attacked by threshers.
Of course, there was a lot said in the Extranet news release... very streamlined, but she felt it. She felt it with her heart and soul, always and everywhere open to John.
She felt that John had narrowly escaped death. She felt that he had flown to Akusa precisely to participate in this operation. About which so little was said in the general planetary "news". So, in a very blurry, fuzzy way. But she felt that people like John only go for such complicated and difficult operations...
What did he say once? "Clashes." Fifty of his colleagues died as a result of an attack by snake worms. It took her a while to find out that he had survived. She wasn't sure, she was afraid, she was crying. She also had to prepare for the next competitions and participate in the training camps....
She flew straight from the training camp to the hospital, where John was transferred. She saw him... spent several hours next to his bed and realized that he was the only one important to her. No one else. Yes, she had a lot of friends, acquaintances, but only with John could she afford to be herself to the fullest. He accepted her for who she really was when she wasn't trying to appear.
And now she felt that John had gone to war. Which has not yet begun, but which has already moved towards the Solar system, towards the Earth. I flew away so that this war would not affect so many people. Civilians people. He flew away because he was always a warrior. She should know about this, because she accompanied him to the army, he wrote letters to her from the training division, and flew to her on rare leave and vacations. Who better than her?
* * *
She couldn't remember how she got back to John's empty private apartment. Yes, she knew that John had secured for her the right to live here permanently — his status allowed it, after all, a special forces soldier, an n-seven, an officer, a captain. Therefore, she did not pack her things in bags, did not book tickets for a return flight to the town in the south of Britain, where her personal apartment was.
She decided to stay here because John was all around here. There were traces of his presence everywhere. Let it be so. While. Until he sends a few letters, a few messages from the Arcturus. And if possible, then from where it will fly after the Arcturus.
For a long time now, the Arcturus station has ceased to be just a government station. It was also a very large and one of the most important military stations of the Alliance's MSF. For thirty years, humanity has already been present in the Big Space. Thirty years old. A lot has changed, a lot has happened over the years in all sorts of ways.
The Arcturus station was commissioned just two years after John was born. It was opened in the year two thousand one hundred and fifty-sixth, and John was born on the eleventh of April, two thousand one hundred and fifty-fourth. Dayna knew this date not only with her mind, but also with her heart. She always remembered her.
Yes, as a woman, dates had a special meaning for her. Especially such ones. She never forgot to wish John a happy birthday. There wasn't a single year when she forgot to do it on time. Every day.
A year later, the war of First Contact began — humans entered into an armed conflict with the first alien race, the Turians. This conflict was strange, and huge scientific teams are still working on understanding it. Since then, humanity has gone into Space. Dayna thanked all the gods she knew, and sometimes unknown ones, for the fact that John was still very young at the time.: she understood that if he were older, he would certainly try to take a personal part in this war.
Yes, she used to be afraid for John, because... because she loved him. She has been in love since I felt the feeling of her first love, choosing John as the closest person to her. And she was very glad and proud that John had singled her out, Dayna, among the other girls-pupils in that small orphanage. He singled it out and made it my main one. Let's just... platonically, but he made her the main one.
She basked in his feelings, in his emotions — he gave her the best of what was available to him at that time of growing up. She felt safe and happy. And she tried to make John happy. Yes, she knew that not all people cross the line of platonic relationships when the feeling of first love begins to fade, giving way to space, giving way to a big real main love.
Maybe if they had both grown up in ordinary families, they would have gone their separate ways calmly and freely, but an orphanage is a special environment, its pupils are not much different from children who grew up even in single-parent families. And they are even more different from those children who grew up in families where there were both mom and dad.
It's good that she had a job in the orphanage that she devoted herself almost entirely to — big-time professional sports. She had devoted her whole life to sports and knew that John had also made his choice — he wanted to become a special forces officer and in the last few years of his stay in the orphanage began to seriously prepare for the realization of his choice. Just as she began to prepare for entering the field of big-time sports.
After leaving the orphanage, they both already had clear guidelines for their adult lives. She had a schedule of training camps, field trips, training sessions, and competitions, and he had a training plan for the elite special forces units that were part of the Alliance of Systems MSF.
The day of April eleventh, two thousand one hundred and seventy-two, Dayna remembered for the rest of her life. This day was both John's birthday and the day he joined the Armed Forces of the Alliance of Systems. Yes, the two of them managed to celebrate Shepard's next birthday, sat in a cafe, then sat on the banks of the River Dee in Chester. Something drew Dana to this town, and Shepard, who knew about it, did not protest. And in the evening she accompanied him to the army. She cried, of course, but she couldn't help it. She was worried, nervous. John too... He was nervous, but he controlled myself.
It was important to Dayna that he controlled his emotions. He always helped her, even with his mere presence, and when he acted for her and for her sake... she felt extremely happy. She often felt so happy, and even then, as she saw off a military passenger transport taking off, taking recruits to a training unit, she knew that she was happy. She happy with a special happiness: John has achieved his goal — he has embarked on the path for which he had been preparing for several years before. He was preparing consciously.
It's only been five years — and there was an incident on Akusa. At the hospital, John was awarded his first medal. As the only surviving Special Forces soldier. There was a lot about this incident that was incomprehensible to those uninitiated in the details, but for Dayna it was only important that John survived and returned.
Yes, he was brought in by medical transport in a serious condition. But he survived, he stayed alive, and he came back! She stroked the enamel and metal of his medal attached to his hospital pajamas with her fingers, and he smiled and said that now he had Olympic-level medals. Almost the same as hers.
She was laughing. She laughed because she saw, because she believed that not only had he survived and returned, he had preserved everything she loved so much. He remained the same, the same for her, although, of course, he changed, became more stern, became less verbose. She took all these changes for granted, because John is a man, he is engaged in a man's business, he is a warrior, he is an officer. And she's right next to him.
She's with him. Now they are both independent adults. He respects her right to decide about the children-she knows this for sure. She wanted children from him, she wanted to, but John... never rushed her, did not insist, did not push. And she was grateful to him for that. The year two thousand one hundred and eighty-three has arrived. Six years have passed since Akusa. John recovered, was in the reserve of the Alliance MSF Command for a long time, rushed around the training grounds and to various ground, fortunately, military units. He served, worked, acted, improved. He didn't like to be idle. And she was calm and happy, even if only occasionally, but he flew to her and they spent sometimes a few hours, and sometimes a few days together and side by side.
The command and colleagues knew that Dayna was practically the first candidate for John Shepard's bride, but John himself never put pressure on Dana and never rushed her to make a final decision. Surprisingly, she remained free and at ease with him. She could communicate calmly and freely with other young people, and he... he wasn't jealous because he trusted her.
He left on the Arcturus and she saw him off. She watched the shuttle take off, and then returned to his apartment and stayed there for several more days. Until the flight to Tokyo, for the next sports training camp. She didn't want to leave John's apartment earlier. She didn't want to and... couldn't. She was afraid, she was worried that this, all the contents of this bachelor apartment, might remain the only tangible thing that would happen after John... left. It will go over the Edge.
Something very black was hovering over him. She felt it, but she hid it from John, understanding and knowing that he felt it too. He's just like that.
She knew John wouldn't be staying on the Arcturus for long. That means he will be assigned to the ship, and then... then there will be a difficult and dangerous flight. Very dangerous.
This blackness... was somehow special. So heavy that Dana herself, no matter how hard she tried, could not find in her memory and essence any analogues to this oppressive feeling generated by this blackness hovering over John. Even after Akusa, after Dayna sensed the deadly danger hanging over Shepard there, on this very inhospitable planet, she was not so afraid, was not afraid and was not worried. Something was wrong with John's latest "business trip." Something was wrong.
Chapter 2. John Shepard, Captain of the Alliance of Systems MSF. Arcturus Station
The flight from Earth to the deliverer didn't take long. Shepard, among the other passengers of the shuttle, went to the main cabin, took the seat assigned to him by the boarding order, strapped himself in and began to calmly wait for the arrival of the cruise ship at the station.
Such flights had not been a novelty for him for a long time, he considered them to be working, so he did not pay much attention to the circumstances associated with them. Yes, of course, he thought about a lot of things during the flight, including Dayne, but even more preoccupied was the feeling of wrongness that had appeared, apparently related to the upcoming work at the Arcturus station.
Yes, according to current practice, an officer of his status and rank could first be offered to work at the station in the structures of the Alliance of Systems MSF and only then decide on an appointment to the ship. Shepard, as he felt, was completely ready for both options, but now it was the second option that bothered him — something told him about the upcoming difficulties with the ship and its crew.
* * *
Exactly at the time set by the order, the deliverer docked to a large space station. The chirping of a wrist band caught omny tool the captain's attention and brought up a clarification on the small screen: "report to the station personnel Department of the MSF." Shepard picked up his bag and briefcase more comfortably and headed for the Arcturus sector, which he knew well.
A sleek colonel was waiting for him in the office indicated in the clarification.
Shepard gave the proper military greeting, reported on the form — protocol and ritual, there's no escaping, it's not difficult to follow them.
The colonel clearly saluted in response — the command of the MSF contingent stationed on the Arcturus blurted out discipline, but then handed the captain a blank reader with an order issued according to all the rules, which was not required according to the procedure approved by the Admiralty of the Alliance VKS, but a simple reader.
On the instrument screen, Shepard saw only three lines of text that read: "Captain John Shepard of the Special Forces of the Alliance of Systems MSF will accept the post of senior assistant commander of the frigate Normandy."
There were also alphanumeric encrypted station coordinates of the commander's office of this ship — standard practice.
Saluting the senior officer for the second time, this time in farewell, Shepard turned around "on the spot" and left the office, not forgetting, of course, neither the briefcase nor the bag.
The station's headquarters structures were already used to officers arriving at the Personnel Department directly from the delivery trucks, so they looked at the luggage with understanding, remembering, however, that according to the MSF Regulations, for some reason an officer should not come to such institutions "with things." As always, one thing is written in the rules, but in reality it is completely different.
The fact that the colonel was a staff officer did not annoy Shepard at all. People work everywhere. And this colonel was not the first and not the last "parquet" officer seen by the captain during his service in the MSF. But the order, clearly "out of form," only added to the doubts and forced Shepard to take a closer look at the upcoming conversation with the commander of the ship, to which, as it turned out, he was now assigned.
From the materials regularly distributed to the officers of the Alliance MSF bulletins, John knew something about this ship: a joint human-Turian development.
At first glance, it was nothing special — an ordinary reconnaissance frigate, of which there were many in the divisions of the Alliance of Systems MSF. But this ship was distinguished, firstly, by the presence of an improved "invisibility" system, and, secondly, by the clearly too large core of the propulsion system, both in size and power, which made controlling this ship very problematic, requiring special training and constant increased attention from the pilots.
At the n-Seven Academy, Shepard was taught that his future career would necessarily include problematic ships, problematic crews, and problematic assignments. This was the fate of the highest-level commandos, in the journalistic style used by scribblers for not particularly discerning readers.
Corridor after corridor, passage after passage, elevator after elevator, Shepard approached the office of the commander of the ship. Meeting with this officer, traditionally the first on board after God, finally put a big and bold end to the uncertainty of the captain's position.
It seemed that there really was service ahead on a troubled ship, which, of course, did not add to John's joy or satisfaction, but at least it removed many questions, making room for new ones generated by a sense of impending danger. No, not related to this ship, more global, more terrifying.
It was difficult to determine the reason for this feeling now, and therefore, as Shepard moved through the Arcturus station to the office of the commander of the Normandy, he did not try to focus his attention on this feeling. He had previously been determined to a certain extent that such feelings would take place. Without a developed sense of danger, it was impossible to survive and maintain combat capability where commandos of his level most often had to operate.
After leaving the bag in the storage room in front of the entrance to the Arcturus sector, where the ship commanders' offices were located — the usual cabins transferred via a complex system to all senior officers whose ships were temporarily or permanently assigned to the Station's fleets, Shepard paused for a few seconds in front of the right door and, having got close, knocked.
"Come in," came a calm voice, slightly muffled by the pressurization.
The captain opened the door, stepped over the threshold, stopped, waited until the door clicked into place and gave the required arrival report.
"Report accepted," said the officer, who got up when Shepard appeared in the cabin from behind the desk, most often referred to as the office desk, and saluted in response to the guest's formal greeting. "Have a seat, Captain Shepard." He pointed to one of the two chairs next to the commander's desk. "I see you're unhappy."
"Yes, sir. But for now, I would not like to talk about the reasons for my dissatisfaction. Perhaps it has no basis in fact." Shepard answered calmly and clearly, sitting down in the indicated chair.
"Anyway, you've been assigned, Captain." the owner of the office sat down in his chair, turned on his laptop. "I am the commander of the Frigate Normandy, Captain David Anderson. Since we are of equal rank, you can address me as "Commander Anderson" or "Commander." Departure is in a few hours, everyone is already on board. I know you left your bag in the luggage room. If we go to the ship, you can pick her up. The departure of the Normandy is special, but not urgent. So you'll have time for that," the officer handed Shepard a "large" reader. "Here you can find all the materials on the ship and the crew. A kind of introductory information. I believe that after reading it, you will be able to get answers to your questions." Anderson stood up. "Come on."
Shepard followed the commander out of the cabin. The feeling of non-standardness of the situation just screamed. It seemed that Anderson didn't want to tell him much right now, here on board the Arcturus.
There could be several reasons for this: eternal competition between soldiers and politicians, the main inhabitants of the station, secrecy, and simply the desire of the commander to carry out the basic induction procedure directly on board his ship.
To Shepard's satisfaction, Anderson did not forget about his promise regarding the storage room: the bag was in place and was handed over to the owner by a storage sergeant in record time.
A few minutes later, the officers move to the part of the station from where shuttles traditionally departed to the ships stationed in the raid around the station.
A shuttle bus took Anderson and Shepard aboard the frigate, and the ship's commander motioned for them to enter his cabin.
"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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