Post by Xavier Cross on Mar 15, 2019 16:47:15 GMT
2185, Citadel Docking Area, Inner Citadel Space
Within a minute of meeting his new Commander, Xavier found himself on the better side of a shootout. Why do you ask? No one will answer. In fact, things have grown a lot quieter as the trio make their way through the docking system, avoiding eye contact with various C-Sec officers.
Dean Harper: “Good news sweetheart, I’ve just been notified all your belongings have been taken to the ship.”
A sigh, half of the annoyance with the nicknames, half of was a bit of relief knowing he wouldn’t have to worry about that.
Xavier Cross: “Thanks...so uh, that was something eh? I never pegged you to be the Crimson Commander…”
Commander MacDonnough: “And what makes you say that Kid?”
Xavier Cross: “Well, I mean, you’ve gotten so many...titles? I guess that would be the polite way to put it, but you’re nothing of what I imagined you’d be…”
Commander MacDonnough: “And what did you imagine?”
Xavier Cross: “Y’know that fellow you probably gave temporary brain damage too?”
Commander MacDonnough: “You...don’t...cheat…”
Xavier Cross: “Yeah, I kind of had him pegged as the Dread Pirate of the Alliance…”
Commander MacDonnough: “Explain.”
Xavier Cross: “Well, I reckon I didn’t think some tiny woman would be so...scary?”
Rowan stops for a moment, her eye twitching as Dean shakes his head. Xavier looks at Harper, a bit confused. Before he knows it, he’s slammed onto his back on the cold ground. A hand over his throat, but there wasn’t a grip. Just pressure, until his eyesight started to get hazy, and he couldn’t breathe.
Commander MacDonnough: “Well, I suggest that you get a better perception of reality. Right now, there is a Mass Effect field slowly closing around your head. Your oxygen is cut off, and if I wanted to, I could crush your skull in if I sneezed...lucky for you, my allergies are acting up today. You proved yourself semi-useful, but if you ever call me a tiny woman again, it will be the last, and I promise you, the last thing you ever are allowed to utter on this mortal plane of existence…”
She releases the Mass Effect field, as Cross clutches at his chest trying to catch his breath. Eyes red, bulging a bit as he begins to cough as oxygen fills his lungs.
Dean Harper: “You hit the button sweetheart, I guess it’s to be expected. Growing pains and such.”
Xavier Cross: “I see...my apologies Commander.”
Commander MacDonnough: “Quite the shot you have there...no biotics, don’t seem to be tech worthy at all. You’re a boyscout through and through aren’t you?”
Xavier Cross: “Didn’t qualify for the Biotics program, and I’m more handy with a firearm than an omni-tool...I was always top shot in every rank I achieved.”
Commander MacDonnough: “I’ve read your Dossier, so before we get to my ship. I need to clarify something. You being here is a favor. You are under my full authority as per your mother. You’re probably thinking your talents were being wasted at home, and you’d be right. However, I will not take the reckless ‘Shepard’-esc kind of cowboy antics that lead to you getting grounded before. You will follow my orders, there is a reason I have a zero fatality rate on my mission record, because we do things my way, and my way is the right way, and the quicker you understand that, the longer you’ll find yourself not sitting in an office back on Earth.”
Xavier nods, a little ashamed.
Dean Harper: “Think of this as a learning experience sweetheart, you’re wound up to tight. Relax a little. And just think, you’ve got a chance to not be apart of a crew, but be apart of a family. Earn their respect, earn their trust, and maybe you’ll learn a little more about yourself along the way.”
The trio makes their way towards the docking station, as the SR-V1 Cannae, a matte black coat, with the typical Alliance blue, replaced with a crimson red. On the front of the ship, the signature crimson fans that Alpha Squad 219, aka The Pack’s personal symbol. This ship was a mirror image of it’s Commander and Captain, vicious but sleek, beautiful yet deadly. Xavier’s jaw drops, hands pressed against the glass.
Dean Harper: “Latest in Alliance technology, if the SR-1 Normandy was the best creation of the Alliance and Turian engineering, this...This will be histories greatest, and it’s just so comfortable too. It pays to have a successful Commander, the engineers listen very carefully.”
Xavier Cross: “It’s...incredible…”
He felt like a child, watching ships take off from the space station he grew up in. It was an enveloping experience.
Dean Harper: “And now, the fun part. Meeting the rest of the crew. You know, before the great Commander Shepard ever practiced it, our Commander here was always a pro-alien human partnership. In fact, every person residing on this ship was hand-picked by the Commander, except you.”
Xavier Cross: “Well, I can see that being a problem already.”
Dean Harper: “As I said, relax. Trust me, if she didn’t think you could contribute, you wouldn’t be here.”
Xavier Cross: “Why are you being so nice to me, you don’t even know me…”
Dean Harper: “You were ready to fight with us when it was completely unexpected, and the whole pulling the grenade pin with your mouth while dodging my kick. You earned my respect. Also, as I’ve stated at least twice now. I think you’re cute, but more so..you might just be a good person with a bad rep. Which means you fit in very well with the misfits you’re gonna meet.”
Smiling slightly, Xavier looks around, noticing the Commander is gone, before turning to Dean.
Dean Harper: “Let’s not make her wait. C’mon!”
Following suit, Xavier keeps the pace behind Dean, his eyes still glossing over the beautiful ship he was only seconds away from boarding.
The hissing of the sealed doors, as Dean walks in front of him onto the Bridge, following suit, Xavier immediately felt the eyes of everyone on him. Trying to remain calm, and keep an appearance of confidence about him, he stands straight looking forward waiting for orders or something to break this feeling of awkwardness.
Commander MacDonnough: “Alright crew, fall in, non-essentials, get us ready for takeoff.”
A small group falls in behind the Commander, a young Turian, a larger than normal Krogan, an Asari with an obvious attitude, and a Quarian too busy to look up from her omni-tool, and then there was the Drell, Dean who steps alongside the crew.
Dean Harper: “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Commander Xavier Cross, Alliance Military, Rank N6.”
Holding his hand up, he gives a weak wave, his nerves overtaking him. He’d much rather have failed the N7 test again, as the wave of coldness hits him. Dean shakes his head and starting from left to the right begins to introduce his new squad mates. Dean puts his hand on the young Turian.
Dean Harper: “This is Warren Kane, a Turian Biotic, rare in species, but not in his bloodline. Before you came, he was our newest recruit. Former Cabal agent and one thousand and sixty-two in rank to become a Primarch. Which means, one thousand and sixty-two Turians have to die in order for our boy here to become the leader of an entire race.”
Warren glances at Xavier, studying him, before shaking his head.
Warren Kane: “A human grunt. Lovely…”
Xavier’s eye begins to twitch a bit.
Xavier Cross: “What do you mean meathead?”
Warren Kane: “Your race and your rank, you’re basically a hammer. But here, we don’t do smash and grab operations, we’re a bit more sophisticated than that.”
Dean Harper: “You do remember when you used your biotics to pull a shuttle down into a Thresher Maw pit, not very...sophisticated…”
And at that moment, Xavier Cross witnessed what he could only imagine was a rare Turian blush.
Dean Harper: “Next up, is our favorite Krogan Gladiator, a Sentinel-class fighter, and overall wrecking machine. Caleb Lockwood of Clan MacDonnough..”
Caleb Lockwood: “The Commander gave me a home, and a name, there isn’t a Clan name past or present that could rival Clan MacDonnough…”
Dean Harper: “He might come off as a big softy, but goodness me…”
Warren Kane: “Remember when Caleb incinerated an entire Batarian slave raiding party…”
Dean Harper: “Fondly Warren, if you want something blown up, or broken down, Caleb is the Krogan for the job.”
Xavier Cross: “An entire raiding party? That’s really impressive actually...did the galaxy a favor.”
Caleb grunts, staring at Xavier, who gives a weak smile, before turning his attention back to Dean, who is standing with the Asari now.
Dean Harper: “And our favorite Asari Huntress herself, Brooklyn Madrox. The less you see her, the more dangerous she is. Either up close, or far away. She’s everyone’s elder so make sure to show some respect...and of course, she’s the Commander’s favorite…”
And it was at that moment, everyone on the bridge blushed, minus Rowan, who loudly cleared her throat.
Brooklyn Madrox: “An N6 rank is very impressive for your species Xavier. I look forward to seeing your skills, your dossier says you’re quite the shot. I’d love to knock you down a few pegs.”
It started off nice, but after that, it was deflated within an instant. Dean wraps his arms around the little Quarian left for last, as he looks at Xavier.
Dean Harper: “And this little bundle of joy is Maxine Valentine vas Cannae. As you probably know, Quarian’s take the name of their home ship, and you can see how much we mean to her, and she means the world to us. If you have any kind of tech issue, she’s the lady to go to. Just...don’t let her experiment on your stuff, or do, it’s really a fifty-fifty chance of success.”
Maxine Valentine vas Cannae: “Dean! I’ll have you know, the exo-suit I’m working on hasn’t short-circuited in at least a month!”
Warren Kane: “The last time it did, you nearly deep fried Dean!”
Caleb Lockwood: “He...he…”
Dean Harper: “Past be the past, Xavier, this is The Pack. The merry band of misfits.”
Xavier Cross: “Well...it’s a pleasure to meet you all, I hope...we can air some of this tension out…”
Warren is the first to step forward, looking down at Xavier, who doesn’t buckle.
Warren Kane: “Just don’t get in the way, make yourself useful and scarce and we’ll get along just fine.”
Xavier Cross: “Lovely.”
Commander MacDonnough: “Show the Kid to his quarters, everyone else, to your stations. Let’s get prepared for take off, and debrief. Xavier, report back to the bridge once you’ve settled in.”
Her serious tone felt weird, and it wasn’t just him, glancing around at the various expressions of his squadmates, there was something amiss. Dean pats Xavier on the back, motioned him forward.
Dean Harper: “The squad quarters are wonderful, on our next shore leave we can get you something to make it feel more like home.”
Xavier Cross: “Only need a bed and a shower. I’m used to bunk living.”
Dean Harper: “What did I tell you about being wound too tight?”
Rolling his eyes, Xavier takes in the ship, simply in amazement, feeling daggers being stared into his back by Warren Kane as Dean shows him around.
Within a minute of meeting his new Commander, Xavier found himself on the better side of a shootout. Why do you ask? No one will answer. In fact, things have grown a lot quieter as the trio make their way through the docking system, avoiding eye contact with various C-Sec officers.
Dean Harper: “Good news sweetheart, I’ve just been notified all your belongings have been taken to the ship.”
A sigh, half of the annoyance with the nicknames, half of was a bit of relief knowing he wouldn’t have to worry about that.
Xavier Cross: “Thanks...so uh, that was something eh? I never pegged you to be the Crimson Commander…”
Commander MacDonnough: “And what makes you say that Kid?”
Xavier Cross: “Well, I mean, you’ve gotten so many...titles? I guess that would be the polite way to put it, but you’re nothing of what I imagined you’d be…”
Commander MacDonnough: “And what did you imagine?”
Xavier Cross: “Y’know that fellow you probably gave temporary brain damage too?”
Commander MacDonnough: “You...don’t...cheat…”
Xavier Cross: “Yeah, I kind of had him pegged as the Dread Pirate of the Alliance…”
Commander MacDonnough: “Explain.”
Xavier Cross: “Well, I reckon I didn’t think some tiny woman would be so...scary?”
Rowan stops for a moment, her eye twitching as Dean shakes his head. Xavier looks at Harper, a bit confused. Before he knows it, he’s slammed onto his back on the cold ground. A hand over his throat, but there wasn’t a grip. Just pressure, until his eyesight started to get hazy, and he couldn’t breathe.
Commander MacDonnough: “Well, I suggest that you get a better perception of reality. Right now, there is a Mass Effect field slowly closing around your head. Your oxygen is cut off, and if I wanted to, I could crush your skull in if I sneezed...lucky for you, my allergies are acting up today. You proved yourself semi-useful, but if you ever call me a tiny woman again, it will be the last, and I promise you, the last thing you ever are allowed to utter on this mortal plane of existence…”
She releases the Mass Effect field, as Cross clutches at his chest trying to catch his breath. Eyes red, bulging a bit as he begins to cough as oxygen fills his lungs.
Dean Harper: “You hit the button sweetheart, I guess it’s to be expected. Growing pains and such.”
Xavier Cross: “I see...my apologies Commander.”
Commander MacDonnough: “Quite the shot you have there...no biotics, don’t seem to be tech worthy at all. You’re a boyscout through and through aren’t you?”
Xavier Cross: “Didn’t qualify for the Biotics program, and I’m more handy with a firearm than an omni-tool...I was always top shot in every rank I achieved.”
Commander MacDonnough: “I’ve read your Dossier, so before we get to my ship. I need to clarify something. You being here is a favor. You are under my full authority as per your mother. You’re probably thinking your talents were being wasted at home, and you’d be right. However, I will not take the reckless ‘Shepard’-esc kind of cowboy antics that lead to you getting grounded before. You will follow my orders, there is a reason I have a zero fatality rate on my mission record, because we do things my way, and my way is the right way, and the quicker you understand that, the longer you’ll find yourself not sitting in an office back on Earth.”
Xavier nods, a little ashamed.
Dean Harper: “Think of this as a learning experience sweetheart, you’re wound up to tight. Relax a little. And just think, you’ve got a chance to not be apart of a crew, but be apart of a family. Earn their respect, earn their trust, and maybe you’ll learn a little more about yourself along the way.”
The trio makes their way towards the docking station, as the SR-V1 Cannae, a matte black coat, with the typical Alliance blue, replaced with a crimson red. On the front of the ship, the signature crimson fans that Alpha Squad 219, aka The Pack’s personal symbol. This ship was a mirror image of it’s Commander and Captain, vicious but sleek, beautiful yet deadly. Xavier’s jaw drops, hands pressed against the glass.
Dean Harper: “Latest in Alliance technology, if the SR-1 Normandy was the best creation of the Alliance and Turian engineering, this...This will be histories greatest, and it’s just so comfortable too. It pays to have a successful Commander, the engineers listen very carefully.”
Xavier Cross: “It’s...incredible…”
He felt like a child, watching ships take off from the space station he grew up in. It was an enveloping experience.
Dean Harper: “And now, the fun part. Meeting the rest of the crew. You know, before the great Commander Shepard ever practiced it, our Commander here was always a pro-alien human partnership. In fact, every person residing on this ship was hand-picked by the Commander, except you.”
Xavier Cross: “Well, I can see that being a problem already.”
Dean Harper: “As I said, relax. Trust me, if she didn’t think you could contribute, you wouldn’t be here.”
Xavier Cross: “Why are you being so nice to me, you don’t even know me…”
Dean Harper: “You were ready to fight with us when it was completely unexpected, and the whole pulling the grenade pin with your mouth while dodging my kick. You earned my respect. Also, as I’ve stated at least twice now. I think you’re cute, but more so..you might just be a good person with a bad rep. Which means you fit in very well with the misfits you’re gonna meet.”
Smiling slightly, Xavier looks around, noticing the Commander is gone, before turning to Dean.
Dean Harper: “Let’s not make her wait. C’mon!”
Following suit, Xavier keeps the pace behind Dean, his eyes still glossing over the beautiful ship he was only seconds away from boarding.
The hissing of the sealed doors, as Dean walks in front of him onto the Bridge, following suit, Xavier immediately felt the eyes of everyone on him. Trying to remain calm, and keep an appearance of confidence about him, he stands straight looking forward waiting for orders or something to break this feeling of awkwardness.
Commander MacDonnough: “Alright crew, fall in, non-essentials, get us ready for takeoff.”
A small group falls in behind the Commander, a young Turian, a larger than normal Krogan, an Asari with an obvious attitude, and a Quarian too busy to look up from her omni-tool, and then there was the Drell, Dean who steps alongside the crew.
Dean Harper: “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Commander Xavier Cross, Alliance Military, Rank N6.”
Holding his hand up, he gives a weak wave, his nerves overtaking him. He’d much rather have failed the N7 test again, as the wave of coldness hits him. Dean shakes his head and starting from left to the right begins to introduce his new squad mates. Dean puts his hand on the young Turian.
Dean Harper: “This is Warren Kane, a Turian Biotic, rare in species, but not in his bloodline. Before you came, he was our newest recruit. Former Cabal agent and one thousand and sixty-two in rank to become a Primarch. Which means, one thousand and sixty-two Turians have to die in order for our boy here to become the leader of an entire race.”
Warren glances at Xavier, studying him, before shaking his head.
Warren Kane: “A human grunt. Lovely…”
Xavier’s eye begins to twitch a bit.
Xavier Cross: “What do you mean meathead?”
Warren Kane: “Your race and your rank, you’re basically a hammer. But here, we don’t do smash and grab operations, we’re a bit more sophisticated than that.”
Dean Harper: “You do remember when you used your biotics to pull a shuttle down into a Thresher Maw pit, not very...sophisticated…”
And at that moment, Xavier Cross witnessed what he could only imagine was a rare Turian blush.
Dean Harper: “Next up, is our favorite Krogan Gladiator, a Sentinel-class fighter, and overall wrecking machine. Caleb Lockwood of Clan MacDonnough..”
Caleb Lockwood: “The Commander gave me a home, and a name, there isn’t a Clan name past or present that could rival Clan MacDonnough…”
Dean Harper: “He might come off as a big softy, but goodness me…”
Warren Kane: “Remember when Caleb incinerated an entire Batarian slave raiding party…”
Dean Harper: “Fondly Warren, if you want something blown up, or broken down, Caleb is the Krogan for the job.”
Xavier Cross: “An entire raiding party? That’s really impressive actually...did the galaxy a favor.”
Caleb grunts, staring at Xavier, who gives a weak smile, before turning his attention back to Dean, who is standing with the Asari now.
Dean Harper: “And our favorite Asari Huntress herself, Brooklyn Madrox. The less you see her, the more dangerous she is. Either up close, or far away. She’s everyone’s elder so make sure to show some respect...and of course, she’s the Commander’s favorite…”
And it was at that moment, everyone on the bridge blushed, minus Rowan, who loudly cleared her throat.
Brooklyn Madrox: “An N6 rank is very impressive for your species Xavier. I look forward to seeing your skills, your dossier says you’re quite the shot. I’d love to knock you down a few pegs.”
It started off nice, but after that, it was deflated within an instant. Dean wraps his arms around the little Quarian left for last, as he looks at Xavier.
Dean Harper: “And this little bundle of joy is Maxine Valentine vas Cannae. As you probably know, Quarian’s take the name of their home ship, and you can see how much we mean to her, and she means the world to us. If you have any kind of tech issue, she’s the lady to go to. Just...don’t let her experiment on your stuff, or do, it’s really a fifty-fifty chance of success.”
Maxine Valentine vas Cannae: “Dean! I’ll have you know, the exo-suit I’m working on hasn’t short-circuited in at least a month!”
Warren Kane: “The last time it did, you nearly deep fried Dean!”
Caleb Lockwood: “He...he…”
Dean Harper: “Past be the past, Xavier, this is The Pack. The merry band of misfits.”
Xavier Cross: “Well...it’s a pleasure to meet you all, I hope...we can air some of this tension out…”
Warren is the first to step forward, looking down at Xavier, who doesn’t buckle.
Warren Kane: “Just don’t get in the way, make yourself useful and scarce and we’ll get along just fine.”
Xavier Cross: “Lovely.”
Commander MacDonnough: “Show the Kid to his quarters, everyone else, to your stations. Let’s get prepared for take off, and debrief. Xavier, report back to the bridge once you’ve settled in.”
Her serious tone felt weird, and it wasn’t just him, glancing around at the various expressions of his squadmates, there was something amiss. Dean pats Xavier on the back, motioned him forward.
Dean Harper: “The squad quarters are wonderful, on our next shore leave we can get you something to make it feel more like home.”
Xavier Cross: “Only need a bed and a shower. I’m used to bunk living.”
Dean Harper: “What did I tell you about being wound too tight?”
Rolling his eyes, Xavier takes in the ship, simply in amazement, feeling daggers being stared into his back by Warren Kane as Dean shows him around.
Well howdy there pardner.