Author's Note: Thank you for reading. This fic is rated "M" for language, violence, and sexual content, so be forewarned. Updates will be every Sunday. Comments, critiques, reviews, and PMs are always welcome. Bioware owns the Mass Effect universe. The amazing cover art is called "Mass Effect - Tali and Shepard" and is used courtesy of WithinSixMonths over at deviantART. I highly recommend viewing his entire portfolio, and taking a look at the full-size image. Additionally, some of the ideas for quarian behavior/traditions that are used in this story are based on the work done by the incomparable Calinstel, whose work you can enjoy on this very site. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

The buzzing and beeping of his omni-tool brought Commander Adalrico "Spike" Shepard out of a light, but restful, sleep. As he checked the time before getting out of bed, he struggled to wake up. Only priority messages from the Alliance activate my omni-tool alert. Did something happen? He padded softly over to his private terminal and input his name and password. To his surprise, a new message simply titled "Deployment Instructions" was blinking insistently at him.

I'm supposed to be on leave for another . . . 44 hours or so. Then I'm supposed to be on Arcturus for another week, at least, while the Brass figures out what to do with me.

In the darkened room, the only light came from the glowing terminal in front of the Commander. In its dim light, Shepard's toned upper body tightened as he read the message from Alliance HQ, and a scowl crawled onto his face.

Damn it all! Shepard was pissed off at the cancellation of his leave. They want me at docking bay G3 at 0700 tomorrow. Shit, I mean today. And I need to be ready for a two-week "assignment?" Full armor and weapons? What do they think I'm gonna do, show up in my civvies and flipflops, looking for the bar?

"Lights on." Shepard said aloud. The lights flashed on, illuminating the spartan room. The only signs that someone lived there were the rumpled bed sheets and the glowing holo of a smiling blonde girl sitting on the desk. Shepard smiled as he looked at the holo, and then suddenly grimaced.

Crap, Beth's gonna be so pissed. We were supposed to have dinner and drinks tonight, then spend some time catching up. We haven't seen each other in, what, 2 months? It doesn't really seem that long. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe I should ask her. No, that would be colossally stupid. But maybe she'll think it's romantic. No. Definitely not romantic. Still something to think about, though. No wonder I don't like adult relationships. So much effort involved. Shaking his head at the complexities of adult life, Shepard sat down to type out a quick message.

"Beth,

I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner tonight. Or tomorrow night, for that matter. My leave got canceled. I don't know why, and I'm not sure when I'll get back. I'm really sorry, hon. I know it's been a while since we've seen each other, and I'm looking forward to seeing you again. I'll make it up to you, next leave.

Be good,

Spike"

Reading the message over once more, Shepard hit send, and then headed to the bathroom to see if a hot shower would wake him up. Shower, shave, then throw my bathroom stuff in my bag. Fuck, I haven't even unpacked everything from my last assignment yet. At least I don't have to worry about forgetting anything. Sighing softly, Shepard turned on the water in the shower, stripped off his shorts, and hopped in.

A little before 0700, Shepard exited the docking bay elevator at the lowest level, with his bag hung securely on his shoulders. As he took in his surroundings with the steady eye of an Alliance-trained Infiltrator, he noticed that the docking bay doors all said "F," instead of the necessary "G." "Shit," Shepard grumbled to himself, "'G' comes after 'F,' if I learned my alphabet right. So where are all the fucking docking bays?" Looking around for help, he noticed an Alliance marine, standing guard at the other end of the hallway. Probably some poor sap who pissed off the wrong person and gets an extra shift of ultra-exciting hallway-watching duty. Maybe he knows where the hell all the "G" docks are.

Shepard began to make his way towards the marine. As he neared the end of the hallway, however, the marine suddenly stiffened and pulled the assault rifle off his back and slid it out to its full size. Suddenly, the N7 soldier knew that all was not right on the "F" dock. That isn't an Alliance standard-issue AR. He should be using a Kedar Lancer. But that looks like a Kassa Breaker. What is he really doing here?

Approaching the tense marine, Shepard put his hands out, palms facing towards the man with the gun, in an attempt to get some information, not shot. "Hey there soldier, I'm not here to cause trouble. I was just wondering if you could help me out with something."

"What?" The marine asked, while he subtly pointed his gun at Shepard's feet.

"I'm looking for the 'G' docks. Can you tell me where they are?"

"No such thing," the guard scowled, "so you should move along." His AR was now pointed at Shepard's waist, trying to encourage the other man to walk away.

"See, I don't think that's right." Shepard responded, noticing the climbing barrel of the weapon, as well as the Lance Corporal insignia on the other man's shirt. "I have orders from Alliance HQ telling me to report to docking bay G3 by 0700. I'm just trying to get there on time."

The face of the marine guarding the door tightened, if possible, even more. "Well if there were such a place, your 'orders' should tell you who to report to."

Shepard thought back to the contents of the message.

"Commander Adalrico Shepard,

You are hereby ordered to report to docking bay G3 by 0700 Zulu on Jan 12, 2183 for a two-week deployment. Failure to arrive at or before the designated time, or without all armor and firearms, will be considered a dereliction of duty, for which you may be court-martialed and dishonorably discharged.

Systems Alliance High Command"

"Nope." Shepard said with a grin. "Just said to be at G3 by 0700. So where is it?"

"There are no 'G' docks on Arcturus, sir. I believe you are mistaken. Please leave." At this, the marine poked the tip of his rifle towards Shepard, hoping, no doubt, to scare the other man away.

This was exactly the wrong thing to do. Shepard was in no mood to play games with a glorified bouncer. He'd had a short night of sleep, he'd had to cancel his weekend with his girlfriend, and he really, really didn't like little people trying to intimidate him with guns. And now, the marine's rifle was within Shepard's reach.

Like lightning made corporeal, he grabbed the top of the gun, forcing the barrel down and away from his body. A quick slide step closer to other man brought the marine's back leg into range of Shepard's front foot. Snapping out with the toe of his boot, Shepard struck the corporal in the back of his left knee, buckling it. As the marine started to sink downward, Shepard grabbed the back of the man's shoulder and pushed down, forcing more weight onto the collapsing left leg. The marine suddenly lost his ability to stay upright. At the marine went to the ground, Shepard removed the assault rifle from the corporal's right hand, and took one step back, aiming his new gun squarely at the back of the prostrate marine's head. The attack happened with such speed and violence, the armed guard never had a chance to pull the trigger or call for help.

"Don't move." Shepard said in a low, but clear, voice. A separate part of his mind noticed the balance of the Breaker in his hands. This isn't a bad gun, for an assault rifle. I might not be giving this back to him after he gets up. Or ever, actually. "Now, where is docking bay G3? And if you lie to me again, I'll start putting bullets into your limbs, one by one." A hint of menace had crept into the Commander's voice by the end of this statement.

"Please don't shoot me!" The man on the ground pled.

"Then answer my question."

"Go through the door I was guarding and take the stairs down. You'll find another deck. That's 'G' deck. Just look for 'G3,' it'll be right there. Just please don't shoot me."

Looking at the wall, Shepard couldn't see the door at first. Then, he noticed a small access pad built into the wall, and right next to it, he could just make out a faint line. Ah hah! Score one for Detective Shepard. I bet the kid was standing in front of it to keep it hidden from view. "There's an access pad here, Lance Corporal. How am I supposed to access the door?"

"The code's 724620."

"Thank you." Keeping his eyes on the marine laying on the floor, Shepard slowly moved around him, staying out of reach of his legs and arms at all times. Looking quickly away, Shepard typed in the code then swiveled his glance back to the downed marine. The marine hadn't moved. Huh. Either I got him pretty good, or he's scared shitless of me. "You okay, son?"

"Yes, sir."

Okay then. Definitely scared shitless. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Lance Corporal . . . " Shepard waited for the young man to fill in his name.

"Tomay, sir. Brad Tomay."

"Thanks again, Brad. By the way, don't feel too bad about getting put on your ass. You could be dead."

Brad looked up at the man standing over him, dismay written all over his youthful visage.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you. But I could have." Shepard shot him a wink as he turned around and walked through the door.

Behind him, the door whooshed closed. As Brad lay on the cold floor, he suddenly felt lucky to be alive.

As the door closed behind him, Shepard started descending the long staircase ahead. The way was lit periodically by fluorescent lights set into the ceiling, but those were few and far between. This doesn't look like any part of Arcturus that I've ever seen. Looks more like something out of one of the old horror vids, where everybody dies. At least if any zombies come out of the darkness, I'll be ready for them. I'd love to see what this Breaker does to an unarmored zombie. I bet I could remove the head and destroy the brain in one shot. Smirking to himself, Shepard picked up his pace.

As he arrived at a corner, Shepard stopped and peeked carefully around the wall. Nobody in the immediate vicinity, but it looks like a well-lighted area at the bottom of the stairs. I think I hear voices, and maybe footsteps, too. I may have just found the enigmatic "G" docks. Time to go find out.

Striding confidently down the remaining steps, he suddenly found himself in the doorway of a short, broad, hallway. Looking around, he saw five docking bays. Numbers 1, 3, and 5 were on the left side of the hallway, and numbers 2 and 4 were on the right. Most of the activity that he had heard earlier seemed to be coming from G3. There were two navy shipmen standing guard at the entrance to the docking bay, and technicians, soldiers, and supply staff were going in and out at a steady pace. There was only one other person in the hallway who didn't seem to be participating in the hustle and bustle of docking bay 3, and that was a lone naval officer standing casually outside the entrance to G4.

Shepard set his new AR against his soldier and strolled into the lighted area, heading directly for G3. Moving as if he didn't have a care in the world, but carefully taking note of everything of possible importance, Shepard noticed that the two shipmen on guard were also clutching Kassa weapons. Is that actually an Armageddon? I don't usually use shotguns, but I wouldn't mind having one of those to go with my shiny new Breaker. Too bad they're still only carrying Kedar Kessler pistols. I've heard good things about Kassa's new pistols. What were they called? Rakers? Raikous? No, that's the new Ariake pistol. Razers! That's what they were. Yeah, I'd take these two down in a heartbeat to get my hands on a new Razer. My Haliat Stiletto isn't bad, but the Razer is supposed to be one of the best pistols in the galaxy. Even if they did have a Razer, I probably shouldn't pick a fight just to get my hands on some new weapons. Even really, really nice ones. Sighing at his decision not to start trouble, Shepard moved to walk between the two guards.

The two men stepped closer together, blocking Shepard's path. "Identification please, sir." The officer on the left asked.

"Certainly." Shepard answered with a smile. He reached one hand over to his omni-tool, and pulled up his ident holo.

"Commander Shepard . . ." The shipman trailed off as he looked down at his own omni-tool. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have you on my access list." Both squids started sizing Shepard up, trying to determine if he was going to cause a problem.

God damn it! Shepard raged internally, while keeping his face impassive. I'm really getting sick and tired of being jerked around by doormen. Maybe I'll rethink my earlier decision not to pick a fight. Instead of punching the nearest man and taking his shotgun, Shepard tried diplomacy. "Maybe you could get the XO out here. My orders came in early this morning, so you may not have been notified of my addition to the crew."

"Sir, we're unable to do that. There is no XO aboard."

No XO? Shepard was officially confused. What kind of ship doesn't have an XO? What the hell is the Alliance trying to pull? Every ship needs an XO, or the Captain would go out of his mind. Bringing his attention back to the shipmen in front of him, he tried another approach. "If there's no XO aboard the ship, why don't you try contacting the Captain? I'm sure Alliance HQ notified him of my arrival."

"Why would the Captain be notified about you? Alliance HQ doesn't bother the Captain to tell him he's getting another officer. He's got plenty already."

Alright, now these guys are really pissing me off. These are the douchebags that give the navy a bad name. Just because you think you're hot shit, doesn't mean you are. They think they're soooo fucking superior just because they get to stand outside a door and check ids. Apparently they don't realize that that means the Alliance thinks they're useless. Maybe I should tell them. Grinning wickedly, Shepard leaned his head down, close to their ears. "You do realize that the both of you got this assignment because you're not worth the resources it would take to put you on a ship, right? And that whatever your job may be, getting in the way of an N7 operative is the surest way to significantly shorten your life expectancy. His words made the air around the two officers drop an immediate 30 degrees. Neither of them failed to notice the implied threat: fail to call the captain, and you'll be relieved of duty if you're lucky, your life if you're not.

"Oh my god . . ." The shipman who hadn't yet spoken trailed off as shock, desperation, and recognition warred for control of his face. "You're the Commander Shepard? The Hero of the Skyllian Blitz? The Star of Terra winner?" His blood left his face as Shepard turned his cold gray eyes on him. All coherent thought vacated the naval officer's head, leaving behind only panic and fear playing a crippling game of tag.

"You don't win the Star of Terra." Shepard's tone was as cold and as hard as steel. "War is not a game, sailor."

The two naval officers swallowed hard, and looked down at their feet. "Let me call the Captain, sir." The one on the left finally muttered.

Shepard took a step back and nodded. "Good idea." He remained rooted to that spot, his eyes never leaving the two men in front of him, until the door they were guarding opened up and revealed Captain David Anderson.

"Sir." Shepard snapped to attention and proffered a formal salute.

"Good to see you again, Commander." Anderson replied with a casual salute of his own. "Walk with me." He said as he turned and headed back down the walkway.

Nodding briefly to the two seamen, Shepard hurried to catch up with Anderson. Finally drawing even with the Captain, Shepard matched the older man's pace. "Glad to see you, too, sir. May I ask what's going on?"

"You may." Anderson replied, then remained silent.

The two men walked in silence until they reached the airlock of a ship. Stepping inside, the VI announced "Decontamination in progress," and the white light of the decontamination beam swept over both of them. When the light finally went away, the VI announced, "The commanding officer is aboard."

Anderson stepped inside the ship, and turned to the Commander. "Welcome to the Normandy, Shepard."