Snowflake Challenge #11

[anghraine]

Hey everyone! It's nearly 11 PM on January 31st and I'm sick, but I threw words on the page until I had something to show for it for challenge #11 specifically:

In your own space, create a fanwork. Now, a fanwork is anything that you, a fan, creates. Fic, icons, and filling sparkly requests from your fellow snowflakes’ wishlists absolutely fit the bill. But really, your creation can be anything! Draw something, paint something, compose an ode to your current favorite movie. Whittle something to represent your fandom from a bit of driftwood or model it in clay and matchsticks or legos! Whip up a song about your favorite trope or concoct an interpretive dance number for your OTP. Bake some cupcakes and decorate them in homage to your favorite TV show or author. The possibilities are endless. Whatever means of self-expression tickles your fancy right now, embrace it! But most of all - have fun!

I thought of doing something simpler or easier but ... no, instead I word vomited the entire prologue to the Commander Elizabeth Bennet P&P/Mass Effect AU into a GoogleDoc. It's largely unedited but here it is!

Prologue

Elizabeth Bennet knew what people called her behind her back, whether they were Alliance or not.

The butcher of Torfan.

They didn’t understand. Nobody did, really, not even Captain Gardiner, who’d defended her to the tribunal, or Major Massey, who’d ordered her to take Torfan at any cost and been honorably discharged later.

Elizabeth was resigned to that. When she could do something about a problem, she acted; when she couldn’t, she let it go. And she couldn’t do anything about the past.

Least of all when she didn’t regret it.

---

Mira Gardiner was a failure.

A failure with a case full of medals, to be sure. She’d served the Alliance—served humanity—for decades, and the Alliance had rewarded her with a stream of commendations and promotions. Nobody talked about her lost chance to do more for their species. Not in her hearing, anyway. Even she hadn’t really thought about it in years. No point in wasting time recollecting the details when there was work to be done.

The more amorphous sense of failure, though: that lingered. Especially on the Normandy.

She gave her head a quick shake and turned to her executive officer.

“How’s the crew settling in, Collins?”

Collins saluted her a little too eagerly, as usual. “As well as can be expected, ma’am.”

She halted. Since they had been walking in the long and empty hall that led to the mass effect core of their starship, and Collins was clearly distracted by the glamour of even this part of the ship, he strode on for several seconds without anyone to tell him that he’d left his commander behind. He stopped, looking around in bewilderment, then turned around and trotted back.

“I beg your pardon, captain.”

Collins was reliable and obedient, with a record of faithful service, but no genius. Captain Gardiner had no objection to the Alliance assigning him to her—she just couldn’t imagine him commanding the Normandy, a state-of-the-art starship built for stealth. By Alliance protocols, though, he’d take her place if anything went wrong. One more reason, she supposed, to see that nothing went wrong. This time.

“What did you mean by as well as can be expected?” she asked.

He squinted down at her. “Well, we’re all humans here, ma’am. The Alliance doesn’t expect the kind of discipline one sees on asari ships, which I was lucky enough to witness in my last tour, in the joint operation under the aegis of Matron—”

Gardiner sighed. “They don’t learn that kind of discipline in a human lifetime.”

“Exactly, ma’am,” said Collins. “We do our best, of course. Everyone here seems capable enough and, so far, punctual. I haven’t heard complaints, though they’re not clear on the reasons for the size of the crew when we’re simply returning to Earth and—”

“Thank you, Collins,” said Captain Gardiner.

He straightened to his full six feet. “I’ve heard that it might be the Council’s idea, not ours. They helped build the Normandy, didn’t they? Maybe they’re protecting their investment.”

“Our orders come from the Alliance,” she said, voice steady. “I’ll be receiving our priority mission in person, after we land in Vancouver.”

He looked impressed. “Is that classified information, ma’am?”

“No,” said Gardiner.

She wouldn’t have told him if it was. But even she didn’t know much more than that, except that an old colleague—Admiral Hackett—was expected to attend. It’d be good to see him again. Otherwise, she hoped the meeting would be quick and professional. Then she could go back to solving real problems. They all could.

Collins spent several moments appearing to think about this before clearing his throat.

“I believe the crew will heartily welcome the pursuit of a worthy endeavor, appropriate to our skills and to the unprecedented capabilities of the Normandy.”

“Undoubtedly,” Captain Gardiner said, amused despite herself. “Dismissed, Collins.”

---

They reached Earth without incident, as she expected. The Normandy’s stealth systems were the product of the best work that joint human and turian engineering could produce, and her new pilot, Bingley, was one of the finest in the entire Alliance. He smoothly navigated the busy flight paths to the Systems Alliance Headquarters in Vancouver, docked the ship in an appropriate bay, and grinned up at Captain Gardiner.

“Home, sweet home,” he said.

Captain Gardiner hadn’t yet had the time for many pleasantries with him, and couldn’t quite place his accent.

“Are you Canadian, lieutenant?”

“American,” said Bingley. “But it’s nice to see the homeworld now and then. Real oceans and so on.”

She nodded absently. Gardiner herself was from a small town in the English Midlands that she doubted she’d ever see again. She’d left for London at twenty and never looked back.

After dismissing the crew for shore leave, she strode through the bay towards headquarters proper, making her way around clusters of soldiers with barely a glance up at the pleasantly overcast sky or towards the ocean. Normally, Gardiner liked to take a moment to appreciate a return to Earth, still more hospitable to human life than most others in the galaxy, and she’d always liked the soothing coolness of Vancouver. But today, there was no time for lingering, even to catch the coastal breeze for a few seconds. She headed straight into the main building and hurried to Room 1836, one of the most secure locations in the entire complex.

When she stepped through the doors, she found Admiral Hackett seated at a simple metal table with several other high-ranking Alliance officials, most of whom she recognized. This much she expected, more or less—maybe not so many full admirals. But she had not expected to see the unmistakable form of a turian in full body armor standing near the heavily shielded window, his back to the room. He seemed fascinated by Vancouver’s skyline.

Once, the presence of a turian here would have been the stuff of her nightmares. But times, and wars, moved on—after all, her own ship owed as much to turian engineering as human. There was no reason an ally shouldn’t be welcome.

The real surprise was Donnel Udina, the human ambassador to the galactic Council, and one of her least favorite people. She’d thought him safely ensconced in the Citadel, light-years from the entire Sol system. He sat at the opposite end of the table, and as the doors slammed shut and locked behind her, he folded his hands placidly and smiled.

“Captain Gardiner. Now that you’ve finally arrived, we can begin.”

Gardiner prided herself on her professionalism. She gave a brisk nod and said,

“Good. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

As she made her way to the nearest open seat, the turian turned around. He was tall, with a dark carapace beneath the black and red armor, and white markings on his face. The markings, she recalled, represented some kind of affiliation, though she didn’t recognize the pattern.

Hackett cleared his throat. “Gardiner, this is Nihlus Kryik from the Council. He’s come with a potential proposition for us.”

She nodded at Nihlus, privately even more on a guard. “You have a proposal for the Alliance?”

It could be anything. Funding for another ship, perhaps, in exchange for some kind of favor. But that didn’t explain the secrecy around all this, and it didn’t explain why they—or someone—wanted her here. In fact, why would anyone want her involved in any way with Council negotiations? It had to remind everyone present of the chance her species had lost through her.

“For humanity,” said Nihlus, his eyes fixing on her. “I’m in Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, captain.”

A Spectre? Gardiner tensed, certain that everyone was looking at her, waiting to see how or if she would respond. The room, already small, felt more like a cramped closet.

“I see,” she said, not seeing. They couldn’t seriously be offering her another chance. Since when did a Council Spectre call meetings with Alliance brass, anyway?

Nihlus lifted a datapad in his hand and tapped a few times, then looked at her again. “You are the Captain Mira Gardiner who was given the chance to join the Spectres and advance the circumstances of your species?”

“I am,” said Gardiner. “I failed the test years ago. What does that have to do with this meeting?”

His mandibles flared, then settled again with a slight clack. She spared a glance at Hackett; his usual dry humor was entirely absent from his face, as was any other expression, and he said nothing. The two admirals between them were a little less guarded—they looked tense, but no more. Whatever was going on, it didn’t seem disastrous, just important in some other way.

Nihlus said, “Your … performance convinced the Council that humanity was not ready for this kind of responsibility, nor capable of satisfactorily carrying out the Council's dictates without guidance.”

“I’m aware,” she told him.

“Recent events have altered their opinion,” he said.

Gardiner tilted her head, running her thoughts through what she knew of the Alliance’s far-flung operations. She still couldn’t believe it was anything she herself had done, yet didn’t see why she was even here—much less the clear center of attention—if it didn’t have something to do with her.

“He’s talking about the Skyllian Blitz and the siege of Torfan,” said Hackett.

Several of the admirals shifted a little. Gardiner had no difficulty imagining why. The Blitz was one thing; human civilians, in addition to a small number of Alliance ships and soldiers, successfully defending their home from an unprovoked attack by pirates and batarian slavers, well. That made for one kind of story. Torfan was messier.

“The Council has seen considerable evidence of human resourcefulness and ingenuity,” Nihlus corrected. He clacked his mandibles again. “But it is true that your people’s operations in the Skyllian Verge were particularly conclusive in the debate. When it comes to Spectres, the Council looks for those with the ability to do what must be done, as effectively as possible, no matter how bad the situation, no matter what the price. Some among your species appear to have that ability.”

Captain Gardiner sat back, her confusion clearing.

“You’re talking about Elizabeth Bennet,” she said.

“A protégée of yours, I gather,” he said.

“Yes. I’ve known her for years,” said Gardiner. Her thoughts rushed ahead of her; this was not a future she would have chosen for Bennet, yet it was the best opportunity humanity had seen in years. And she had the highest opinion of Bennet’s capabilities. If anyone could do it—

“The Council sent me to contact the Alliance and judge Commander Bennet’s performance,” said Nihlus. “You, however, know her already, and you know the standards for a Council Spectre better than most. What can you tell me?”

Gardiner paused and looked at the others around the table. Except for Hackett, none shared her personal tie to Bennet. They had no reason to care about what happened to her, except the potential loss of a capable and brilliant soldier, and no qualms about sharing information.

Ambassador Udina caught her eye, scowling.

“Bennet’s from the colonies, not Earth,” he said.

Even so, Gardiner reasoned, it was a hell of an opportunity. Not just for humanity: for Bennet herself. The choice of whether to take it would be Bennet’s, anyway, and there wasn’t much point in hobbling her before she had the chance to make a decision.

“That’s right,” said Captain Gardiner, turning back to Nihlus.

Despite the edge to everything he said, and his apparent disinclination to sit down, he seemed to be waiting patiently enough. His gaze was fixed on her rather than his datapad, and the three fingers of the hand holding it remained still.

She went on, “Commander Bennet was born and brought up on Mindoir. Her family was killed when slavers attacked the colony in a raid and nearly wiped it out. She was one of very few we found there after and she joined the Alliance a few years later. She knows how tough life can be out there.”

Nihlus tapped something on his datapad, talons clicking against the screen.

“Undoubtedly,” said Hackett, “you already know that she led the ground troops at Torfan. Most of them died clearing out the batarian slavers’ bunker, but she saw to it that no slavers escaped.”

Nihlus nodded.

“The admirals can tell you that when failure is not an option for the Alliance, Bennet’s the one we turn to,” said Gardiner. “Not only at Torfan. She gets the job done, no matter the cost.”

A general murmur of agreement ran around the table.

Nihlus made a small noise that Gardiner couldn’t quite decipher—maybe approval, maybe just thought. He tapped into the datapad several more times.

Udina said, “If that’s the kind of person you want protecting the galaxy—”

“That’s the only kind of person who can protect the galaxy,” said Gardiner.

Hackett nodded. Gardiner wasn’t surprised; she knew he’d always had a soft spot for Bennet, too, in his way.

Nihlus said, “No biotic abilities, as I understand?”

“None,” said Gardiner, repressing the urge to drum her fingers against the table. Showing weakness to a Spectre wouldn’t help Bennet or humanity. “She’s never needed them, in all honesty. She’s a superb shot, a good codebreaker, good with people, good with machines. If it’s got moving parts, she can fix it—or break it.”

Hackett smiled faintly.

“And she’s a very capable leader, of course,” said Gardiner.

“Of course,” said Nihlus, switching off the datapad. “If she’s all that you say, captain, she may prove more successful than you did. Very well. The plan is this. Commander Bennet and I will join you on the Normandy—”

Despite herself, Captain Gardiner’s brows rose. Poor Collins had evidently been more right than he knew.

“—which will head to Eden Prime,” he went on.

“Eden Prime?” said Hackett. “I have a niece posted there. Nothing but farms and a few archaeology digs.”

“One of those digs recently unearthed a previously unknown Prothean artifact,” Nihlus replied.

Gardiner repressed a whistle. She didn’t know that much about the Protheans—not that many people did, given that their empire had vanished fifty thousand years before—but she knew their technology was strange and remarkably advanced.

“I see,” Hackett said.

“Commander Bennet will be in charge of a team ensuring that the artifact is safely recovered and brought to the Citadel for examination,” said Nihlus, “and I will personally observe her and assess her suitability for the Spectres.”

Captain Gardiner looked at the admirals. Even for Bennet, Gardiner didn’t take her orders from the Council. Not that the admirals had much more choice than she did. This might be humanity’s best chance in decades to make inroads with the Council, it was certainly the best opportunity that Bennet would likely ever see, and nobody was about to admit to plans to steal a Prothean artifact in front of Nihlus, even if they had them. The penalties imposed for withholding Prothean technology were steep.

“That seems reasonable,” said Udina. “I’m sure the Alliance appreciates the Council’s—ah—re-consideration of this matter, as do we all.”

Nihlus ignored him.

Hackett gave a brisk nod. “Of course. I’ll have Commander Bennet transferred to your ship, Gardiner. Tell her nothing of this until you’re approaching Eden Prime.”

“Yes, sir,” Gardiner replied.

With that, the admirals dismissed the meeting. Nihlus, to Gardiner’s relief, didn’t stick around, but left ahead of Udina, while Hackett caught her shoulder as she turned to leave.

“You did well in there, Gardiner,” he said. “Good luck.”

“She’ll need it,” said Captain Gardiner.

---

Notes:

Elizabeth Bennet = Elizabeth Bennet + Commander Shepard.
Mira Gardiner = Mrs Gardiner + Captain Anderson.
Admiral Hackett = Mr Bennet + Admiral Hackett.
Major Massey (though only mentioned in passing) = Mrs Bennet + Major Kyle.