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thy kingdom come

Summary:

Once, Jordan Shepard thought she would always be no one. Once, she was just another orphan from Earth.

Now a decorated Marine in the Alliance Military, she's assigned to the Normandy, the first ship of its kind, a joint project between the Human and Turian governments. It's a prestigious posting to be sure, but one that Shepard expects to be nothing but routine. But on their first voyage, the Normandy find itself in the middle of an attack from the Geth, a synthetic species that haven't been seen in centuries.

And Shepard is touched by an ancient beacon, imparting incomprehensible information into her mind.

It's now a race against time to find the turian who masterminded the attack on the human colony, and figure out the meaning of the message Shepard has been given. Along the way, she picks up a crew — two human marines, a turian with revenge on the mind, a krogan mercenary, a quarian on her pilgrimage, and a charming asari scientist. Together, they can stop the Geth and their commander, Saren.

But there's something sinister going on in the Milky Way, something to do with the ancient Prothean species, and soon, it might be too late for all of them.

Notes:

got in a little hometown jam
so they put a rifle in my hand

— bruce springsteen, born in the usa

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: prologue

Chapter Text

Jordan Shepard glared at the Marine officer sitting across from her.

She had nothing against the man, not personally, but it was difficult to be friendly at a time like this. Not after she'd been snatched off the street and practically black bagged, taken to some military station outside the city. 

Okay, so maybe she had something against him.

Wrists still handcuffed to the table, Shepard leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair. It had been some time since his little speech, but he was showing no sign of impatience.

Shepard had a feeling that he was happy to wait her out, and that irritated her. The whole situation irritated her, especially the frisson of fear that rode up her spine. These people, these military-types, they could do anything they wanted to a nobody like her and no one would blink an eye.

There was no one to miss her, after all.

"Are you serious?" she asked, curiosity finally overriding her need to stare him down. "You want me to sign on?"

"Yes, very serious," the man, who had introduced himself as David Anderson said. No rank was given, and she wasn't particularly familiar with the Marine command structure, so Jordan didn't know what that meant. But the way the others stood straight and saluted told her that he was in charge. 

"Your skill with biotics is impressive," he continued, looking through the manila envelope he'd brought with him. "Despite your street implant and lack of formal training. But it's not just your biotics — you're a survivor, Ms. Shepard. And that's the kind of thing I'm looking for. I strongly urge you sign."

"Tell me why I should join you — guys," she said, barely biting back a comment about jack-booted bootlickers. She had common sense, sometimes, and she didn't think insulting this guy was going to help her case, whatever it was. 

Then again, he might roll with it. She didn't know, and that bothered her more than anything.

"And it's just Shepard," she added. "No 'Miss.'"

"Shepard, then," he said, agreeably enough. "I'll be straight with you. I've got an eye for talent, and you have it. More than the Tenth Street Reds recognize, at least."

She scoffed. Yeah, she was better than what she was stuck doing. She knew that much. 

"Sure," she agreed. "So I sign up for the Marines. What then? I follow orders for the rest of my life? I don't think they encourage criminals to join." 

"Technically, you're not a criminal. Once you turned 18, your records were sealed. And you haven't been in trouble with the law since then."

Considering she had turned 18 about a week ago, it wasn't much of an accomplishment. 

"So?"

"So you could join, free and clear. And with skill like yours, it wouldn't surprise me if you were the one giving orders, sooner rather than later. I won't give you the standard spiel; going to space, meeting aliens, serving your species. I'm sure you get the idea."

It was tempting, Shepard thought. Life with the Reds had been disappointing lately; too much risk for not nearly enough reward. She'd been thinking about leaving them for a while, now. And getting off Earth might be interesting.

She'd never met an alien before, though she'd read plenty about them on the extranet. It would be cool to see one in person.

But something was still holding her back. 

"So I join up," she said. "What's in it for you?"

"Two things," Anderson said. "Well, three. I get the satisfaction of doing my job well. If you excel in the corps, which I think you will, that's reflected well on your recruiter, a.k.a. me. And three — I don't just want you to join the Marines. I want you to join special forces. It's a risky position, I won't lie. But you'll be fighting with the best of the best, traveling the galaxy beyond the purview of most soldiers. I think you might even make N7 rank, one day. N7, if you work at it."

"Special forces," Shepard repeated. That was more like it. No mere grunt, she. "Okay. Okay, yeah. I've been wanting to get off this rock anyway. What the hell. Sign me up." 

David Anderson smiled for the first time, and Jordan grinned. She might end up liking this guy.


Eleven years later.

The  SSV Normandy really was a wonder. A marvel of modern engineering; what humans and turians could do, if they got their heads out of their asses and worked together. 

Jordan Shepard stared out of the window as the crew bustled around her, a moment of peace during the chaos of launch. She was used to spending time on ships, now. More used to life in space than life on solid ground.

She liked it that way. Nothing to tie her down. She went where the next assignment took her, and never looked back.

Not when she could help it, anyway. 

But it was good to be on a mission with Anderson again, even if it was just a milk run. He'd kept in touch after he recruited her, and they'd been on a few missions together before she was assigned as his XO on the Normandy. 

And the truth was, the Normandy was something of prestigious posting. It was an experimental vessel, and not just because of collaboration between species. It was a new kind of stealth ship, one that could change the way the Alliance — and the turians and other Citadel species — did reconnaissance, and even combat missions.

She'd heard other, less flattering gossip about the project. That it was a waste of money, that the Normandy was for show, that trying to appease the turians and the Council was a pointless endeavor. Shepard elected to ignore it. Too much of her life had been spent as a cynic. Now that she was older, and perhaps a little wiser, she preferred to see the positive side, whenever possible.

As the Normandy hit the relay, she reflected that sometimes, there was no positive side. The sound of screams echoed in her mind, the taste of her own blood, the sight of Elysium burning around her.

She shook her head. The Skyllian Blitz dogged at her footsteps, it seemed, even during a moment of peace. She'd done the required counseling, seen a therapist for months. This was as good as it was going to get.

The wide scar across the bridge of her nose was uneven as she ran her fingers over the mark in a nervous gesture. She was used to having a command, but up until now, it was within the auspices of special forces as an N7. Being XO of a whole ship would be a whole new experience.

Shepard took a breath, straightens her shoulders, and put her battle face on.  Fake it til you make it.

Passing by the galaxy map, she nodded at Navigator Pressly, dodged a couple of crewmen, and headed down to the cockpit. Joker and Lieutenant Alenko were up there unsupervised, and while Shepard didn't worry so much about Kaidan, Joker could get anyone into trouble. 

And with a Spectre on board, she didn't want any of that. Nihlus Kryik had been a last-minute addition to the crew of the Normandy, though why he was on board, only Captain Anderson knew. This was supposed to be a simple mission, a test run. 

So why would a Council Spectre be a part of it? Even if he was a turian. But the Captain had refused to explain, and she hadn't pushed.

"Thrusters, check. Navigation, check. Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift... just under 1500 K," Joker said as they arrived at their destination on the other side of the relay. Shepard watched silently, Nihlus at her side.

"1500 is good. Your captain will be pleased," the turian said, before leaving with a nod at Shepard. Perhaps he had simply wanted to watch the jump, she mused, as Joker shook his head.

"I hate that guy," he said, once Nihlus was out of earshot.

Shepard didn't quite roll her eyes as Joker bemoaned Nihlus's lack of appreciation for his skill, but only just. She didn't know the pilot well yet, but she knew he must be good at his job if he'd been chosen for the Normandy. Captain Anderson let him get away with a lot more than most for anything else to be the case.

"Besides, Spectres are trouble. I don't like having him on board. Call me paranoid."

As Kaidan defended Nihlus's presence, Shepard quietly agreed with the pilot. It was all too suspect for her.

"They don't send Spectres on shakedown runs," she observed.

"See? There's a lot more to this than the Captain's letting on."

"Joker! Status report." Captain Anderson's voice came out of the comms, and they quieted.

"Just cleared the Mass Relay, Captain. Stealth systems engaged. Everything looks solid."

"Good. Find us a comm buoy and link us into the network. I want mission reports relayed back to the Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is headed your way."

"He's already here, Lieutenant. Tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for a briefing."

This time, Shepard really did roll her eyes. 

"You get that, Commander?"

"Got it, Joker, thanks. Nice flying."

She heard Joker make a snort of laughter and shook her head fondly. He might be disrespectful and sometimes downright insubordinate, but she kind of like it. It was a breath of fresh air.

Shepard doubled back to the galaxy map, nodding once more at Pressly as she passed him. She'd have to sit down with the navigator soon. He was effectively third in charge, and she wanted everything to be copacetic.

Especially if this was more than a shakedown run, as both she and Joker suspected.

"Commander!" Dr. Chakwas, the Normandy's resident medical officer, waved her down. "We were just discussing the mission."

"Yeah! Er, ma'am," said a corporal, Jenkins she thought his name was. He seemed so young, so eager, as he went on about their mission, and Shepard had a pang of nostalgia. She'd never been quite so positive, perhaps, having leaned towards the cynical side when she was in her early twenties, but she could recognize the eagerness to prove yourself. 

It turned out that Jenkins was from Eden Prime, though he had no more of an idea what they were facing. 

"It's a quiet place, Commander," he said with a shrug. "Lot of farms, not a lot of light or noise pollution. They were real careful when they planned it all. It'll be good to see home again, but I don't know why we're going there." 

Shepard nodded. It would have been surprising if Jenkins knew anything. She asked if either had run into Nihlus — something about the turian intrigued her, and it wasn't just his Spectre status. Probably it was because he seemed to be lurking around her, always there when she turned around.

What could be so fascinating about her, she didn't know. But she intended to find out. 

She excused herself from Dr. Chakwas politely, nodded and Jenkins, and headed into the comm room. Captain Anderson, however, wasn't there.

"Nihlus!" she exclaimed, a little surprise. "I was expecting the Captain."

"And he's on his way. I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk."

"What about?" she asked, wondering what they had to speak about.

"I'm interested in this world we're going to. Eden Prime. I've heard it's quite beautiful."

"They say it's a paradise," Shepard offered, though she'd never been to the planet herself. "Why?"

"Yes, a paradise. Serene, tranquil, safe. Eden Prime has become something of a symbol for you people, hasn't it? Proof that humanity can not only establish colonies across the galaxy, but also protect them. But how safe is it, really?"

"If you've got something to say to me, just say it," Shepard said, a little annoyed by Nihlus' refusal to get to the point. Everyone in charge had been very circumspect about what they were doing on Eden Prime, and she was getting sick of it.

"Your people are still newcomers, Commander. The galaxy can be a very dangerous place. Is the Alliance truly ready for this?"

Shepard carefully blanked her face so that any potential irritation wasn't apparent. The other species of Citadel space often went on about how young humanity was, about how they were overreaching. She hoped she wasn't about to get a lecture on it from Nihlus.

And just when she was starting to like him a little, too.

But before she could reply, Captain Anderson entered the comm room.

"I think it's about time we told the Commander what's really going on her," he said, standing next to her.

"This mission is far more important than a simple shakedown run," Nihlus added.

"I'm not surprised," Shepard admitted. "But why the secrecy?"

"This mission is on a need-to-know basis, Shepard. We needed to keep it quiet." Anderson was unusually stern, and Shepard's wariness about the situation tripled. "We're making a covert pick-up on Eden Prime, which is why we needed a ship with the stealth capabilities of the Normandy."

"What are we picking up?" Shepard asked, glancing at Nhilus. If they needed the Normandy's stealth, it must be dangerous or highly secret. Bu Eden Prime wasn't exactly a hotbed of military secrets. Her mind whirled.

"There's a research team on planetside, hoping to find Prothean artifacts. Well, they found something. Some kind of beacon."

"A working beacon, sir?" she asked. The Protheans had vanished 50,000 years ago. The idea that any of their technology was still functional was astounding. But Anderson nodded.

"Yes, or so it seems. I don't have to tell you how important this is. The last time humanity made a discovery of this kind, it jumped our technology forward 200 years. We don't know what's on the beacon, but it could be the key to another advancement. We're picking up the beacon and taking it to the Citadel for proper study." 

"Obviously, this goes beyond mere human interests, Commander," Nihlus added. "This discovery could affect every species in Council space."

A part of Shepard, the part she tried to leave behind on Earth with the Tenth Street Reds, wondered why they bothered to notify the Council at all. If the beacon was that valuable, wasn't it best to hoard its knowledge for the betterment of humanity and the Alliance? 

But it was that kind of thinking that was holding her species back, and Shepard dismissed the thought hastily.

"The beacon's not the only reason I'm here." Nihlus took a step forward, and Shepard had to fight not to take a step back. He was an intimidating man, armed to the fringe. 

"What do you mean?"

"Nihlus is here to evaluate you, Shepard. He wants to see you in action. The Council believes you are a good candidate for the Spectres."

That explained why he was practically stalking her, Shepard thought, a little wildly. The first human Spectre,  her? 

"The Alliance has been pushing for this for a long time. Humanity wants a larger role in shaping galactic policy, more say with the Citadel Council. It's an important step forward, to let a human into their ranks."

"You held off an enemy assault during the Blitz almost single-handed. You showed not only courage but incredible skill. That's why I put your name forward." 

"You  nominated me?" Shepard asked, pausing at this new knowledge. Somehow, she hadn't expected it to come from a turian. Tensions between their two species were still high, after all.

"I don't care that you're human, Shepard," he said, apparently reading her thoughts. "I only care that you can get the job done."

It was an oddly flattering statement.

"I need to see your skills for myself, Commander," Nihlus continued. "Eden Prime with be the first of several missions together." 

"You'll be in charge of the ground team, to secure the beacon. Bring it back to the ship ASAP. Nihlus will be —"

"Captain, we've got a problem." Joker's voice echoed in the comm room, his worried tone obvious. 

"What is it, Joker?" the Captain asked, all business.

"Transmission from Eden Prime, sir. You'll want to see this."

"Have a comms officer throw it up in the screen."

The transmission that followed was horrific, reminding Shepard of nothing else but the Skylian Blitz, but even worse. Chaos, death — something was attacking Eden Prime.

Something wanted the beacon.

"Everything cuts out after that. No comm traffic at all, it just goes dead," Joker said.

"Reverse and hold at 38.5," Anderson said, more calmly than Shepard felt.

The video stilled on a ship, bigger than the Normandy by far, larger than anything but a dreadnought. And something about it was wrong, somehow. The design, maybe, or how it flew. 

It rubbed Shepard the wrong way.

"Status report," Anderson's voice, usually so steady, had a thread of anxiety to it. 

"17 minutes out, Captain. No other Alliance ships in the area." 

"Take us in, Joker, fast and quiet." He turned to Shepard. "Better suit up, Commander. This mission just got a lot more complicated."

Notes:

any quotes you recognize are from the game; they'll appear less and less as the story develops. though some are probably too iconic to not include.

if the summary looks familiar, I previously had this posted before deciding to rewrite it. it's very different from the first concept.

oh, and despite its religious title, this won't be a particularly spiritual or religion-focused fic. I'm just a slut for catholic imagery.

Series this work belongs to: