Author's Note:
I have started reading the fourth book of Dune; I still need to buy the last two books. However, I am uncertain whether to go to the cinema to watch Dune III, and the same goes for Avengers: Doomsday.
I enjoy going to the cinema every now and then, watching a movie, eating a pizza, and coming back home. But in recent years, movies have been getting longer and longer, lasting between two and three hours.
I am starting to prefer waiting a few months and then watching the movie on my computer: half one day and the other half the next day, or however I please.
Anyway, moving past my opinions on movies becoming ridiculously long, I wish you a wonderful reading of this new chapter.
XXX
Story Arc: First Contact with a Rogue Trader Militant
Episode 4: Shepard the Space Gladiator
Chapter 12: Preparations for the Show
Plot: The Citadel receives an unexpected visit that shatters everything they know. Meanwhile, we get a quick recap of what Aiden Shepard has been through over the last eight days.
XXX
POV Narrator
The Citadel stands against the cosmic void like a massive marvel of deep engineering, an artificial colossus that serves as the political, cultural, and financial capital of the entire galactic community. Its silhouette resembles that of an immense steel flower or a five-pointed starfish, suspended in the dark and divided into two mirror-image souls.
At the center pulses the Presidium, a cylindrical hub 7.2 kilometers long and 2.2 kilometers wide. It is the station's elite paradise: here, the air smells of artificial vegetation, the lakes reflect a simulated sky with chilly realism, and the footsteps of diplomats echo lightly among embassies and luxury quarters.
From this core branch the Wards: five cyclopean arms stretching out into deep space for a staggering 43.6 kilometers each. When the station is open, the bulkheads swing wide directly onto the void, separated from the cosmos only by the faint bluish shimmer of kinetic barriers and artificial gravity fields. Inside these high-density hives, amidst neon lights and the constant hum of engines, over 13 million souls belonging to dozens of different species crowd together.
According to the optimistic opinion of the Citadel News Network, today is a beautiful day on the station. Beneath the artificial vault of the Presidium and in the chaotic alleys of the Wards, life flows with its usual, frantic routine.
But it is in the political heart of the structure that the tension becomes tangible. In the center of the Presidium ring rises the Citadel Tower, a gigantic, slender spire reaching upward that pierces the skyline. At its summit, inside the solemn Council Chambers, visitors' steps grow cautious. On the monumental raised podium, the atmosphere is thin and severe. It is here that the three highest leaders of the galaxy make interstellar decisions, pulling invisible strings and receiving ambassadors or the lethal Spectre agents:
- Tevos, the elegant and diplomatic counselor of the Asari Republics.
- Sparatus, the rigid and proud counselor of the Turian Hierarchy, with facial features as sharp as blades.
- Valern, the hyperactive and analytical counselor of the Salarian Union, whose large eyes catch every single blink of an eye in the room.
The three Councilors had just concluded their meeting with Donnel Udina, the ambassador of the Systems Alliance. The human had taken his leave, leaving behind a trail of smoke and demands: he had asked, almost demanded, the immediate dispatch of a Spectre to solve a mystery that the Alliance could not decipher.
Apparently, a small group of Systems Alliance starships, under the direct command of David Anderson, had vanished into thin air. They disappeared without a trace, swallowed by the void while patrolling the borders of known space.
In normal times, such a problem would have been handled internally by Earth's pride. But the simultaneous disappearance of Captain David Anderson and his protégé, Lieutenant Commander Aiden Shepard, had set off every alarm bell in the Presidium.
Captain David Edward Anderson was no ordinary officer. He was a man held in immense regard, an authentic war hero, and one of the most decorated special forces agents in the Systems Alliance. The first to graduate from the highly rigorous N7 program at Arcturus Station, he had served with honor during the First Contact War. Losing him was a devastating blow.
But it was the name of Lieutenant Commander John Aiden Shepard that made the blood run cold in the veins of diplomats. Throughout his military career, Shepard had adhered to a single, ruthless fundamental rule: get the job done, no matter the cost. His reputation for icy efficiency had crossed the borders of the Systems Alliance. He was the man who had sent three-quarters of his own unit to their deaths just to win, the same man who had massacred the Batarians attempting to surrender on Torfan, earning himself the infamous and feared title of the Butcher of Torfan.
Something that very few people knew, however, was that Aiden Shepard was at the top of the secret list of Spectre candidates. Another year of monitoring would have been required to examine all eligible profiles, but Shepard was the most likely chosen one to represent humanity among the Council's elite. For better or for worse.
The loss of a legendary hero or a rising star destined to make history would already have been problematic. But the disappearance of both, simultaneously and under circumstances shrouded in shadow, was a political and military nightmare that forced the Council to act.
Tevos turned slowly, smoothing a fold of her elegant robe as her gaze fell upon the monumental, empty podium where Udina had stood moments before.
"If Udina's attitude is any indication, I would say the humans are restless," the Asari counselor said, breaking the silence and introducing the topic with her usual diplomatic composure.
Sparatus crossed his armored arms over his chest, tightening his claws as a low grunt vibrated in his throat. "That would be an understatement. The humans are desperate for an answer, and I can understand them. A patrol disappearing without a trace and the loss of two important military figures..." the Turian admitted, narrowing his eyes. Beneath his rigid exterior, his military mind understood all too well the weight of such a strategic wound.
Valern darted to the side, moving his slender fingers in mid-air, his shifting gaze passing from his Turian colleague to his Asari colleague. "I am surprised you care so much about the humans, considering past tensions," the Salarian commented, in a swift, prodding tone.
Sparatus shook his crested head with a sharp gesture that emphasized his pragmatism. "The First Contact War is long over, even if some do not think so," he declared, putting aside the old grudges that still poisoned many of his species.
A small, soothing smile lit up Tevos's face. "I am very happy to hear you say that."
But Sparatus was not finished. He took a step forward, his imposing figure silhouetted against the Tower's massive windows. "The humans have barely arrived and they are already aiming for a seat on the Council. They are impatient, and some of them are arrogant. They may be good soldiers, but being good at shooting isn't everything." There was a hint of hypocrisy in his words, but to a Turian, state duty went beyond the warrior's path; a government and a nation could not stand if the entire population consisted only of warmongering soldiers.
Tevos stepped closer to the central holographic console, the blue lights caressing her face. "Do we have any idea what might have happened or who the possible culprits are?" she asked, looking at her colleagues.
"The most likely candidate are the Batarians," Sparatus answered promptly, his facial plates twitching into an expression of deep contempt. "After the humiliation they suffered on Torfan, I wouldn't be surprised if a so-called 'pirate' wanted to avenge their wounded pride." The fact that the government of Khar'shan passed off its own state slavers as mere independent criminal elements was something Sparatus had never been able to stomach.
Tevos raised an eyebrow, skeptical. Having lived for over seven hundred years, she had seen enough conflicts to know the methods of the various species. "But could the Batarians attack a Systems Alliance patrol force and leave no trace? It is not their style."
"Their so-called victories depend on striking weaker targets, using the element of surprise and numerical superiority," Sparatus explained, moving a clawed hand to emphasize the point. "To defeat a human patrol in such a way that they couldn't even send an SOS signal, they would have needed a small fleet. But such a deployment would have left radar and thermal traces."
That brief logical exchange pretty much crossed the Batarians off the suspect list. The problem was that, at the moment, the list was devastatingly empty.
Tevos then turned toward her hyperactive colleague, hoping that the most efficient spy network in the galaxy had managed to pull a rabbit out of a hat. "Valern, has the STG discovered anything?"
Valern straightened up, his large eyes blinking rapidly as he consulted an invisible virtual display in his mind. "The STG has studied the area where the patrol disappeared. They found nothing but residues of unknown radiation," he replied, his voice dropping a tone in the face of the lack of certain data.
"Unknown radiation? A new weapon?" Sparatus asked immediately, his military mind snapping instantly toward the worst-case scenario and the threat of a new technological conflict.
"Too little information to give a concrete answer," Valern retorted, waving his hands to restrain the Turian's hasty conclusions. "It could be a new type of engine, or perhaps a sophisticated cloaking system."
Tevos sighed, folding her hands in front of herself. "A missing patrol and all we have are just residues of unknown radiation... A riddle that only a Spectre could solve," she concluded, now convinced that unleashing one of their elite agents was the only sensible move.
"If they targeted the humans protecting their borders, they could do the same to anyone's patrols," Sparatus growled, slamming an armored fist into the palm of his opposite hand. "We should investigate and find answers before the situation escalates."
"I agree with both of you," Valern joined in, nodding rapidly. "We should send a Spectre, accompanied by some specialists." The Salarian knew that to solve that mystery, an exceptional soldier would not be enough; they needed scientists capable of understanding the how, not just the who and the why.
Tevos looked at both of them, sensing the rare and solid harmony that had formed between them. "This is a unanimous decision. We will send a Spectre and a couple of specialists to investigate the event. We only need to determine to whom we will entrust this task," she said, pleased that everyone was on the same wavelength.
Today truly was a happy and auspicious day on the Citadel...
ZHWUUUSH!
The very fabric of space-time, protected by kinetic barriers, trembled, tearing open with a dull, vibrating roar that shook the very foundations of the Tower. Not far from the station, the cosmic void bent, vomiting blinding light and thermal energy as a colossal portal split wide open like a wound in reality.
From that laceration emerged the Moonbreaker.
The ship of the Voidwalkers was not just big: it was an inconceivable monster of steel. It was more than twice the size of the Citadel itself, and even wider than the entire space station. The crew packed inside that mammoth flying fortress alone exceeded the entire population of the Citadel by about 7.5 times.
In front of that colossus, the glorious capital of the Council looked like a baseball placed in front of a home-run bat.
The entire Council Chamber was flooded by the reflected light from the megastructure's hull. The three highest leaders of the galaxy stood frozen, their political and biological reflexes completely wiped out by the sheer scale of what they were witnessing.
"By the Goddess...!" Tevos exclaimed. Her knees gave out slightly, and her hands desperately sought the support of the holographic console to keep from falling, while her Asari eyes stared in terror at that titan obscuring the Presidium's simulated sun.
"In the name of the Spirits...!" Sparatus shouted. The Turian military pride evaporated in an instant. Feeling suddenly minuscule, helpless, and vulnerable, he instinctively reached for the holster of his pistol—a completely useless gesture against a deity of metal.
Valern, for his part, stared at that mammoth starship emerging from a dimensional portal as if they were in the middle of some crazy, B-grade sci-fi movie. His Salarian brain processed the dimensional data at such speed that it sent him into overload. He did the only logically and biologically wise thing at that moment... he fainted.
His eyes rolled back and his legs let go. To his immense fortune, Sparatus's warrior reflexes kicked in before thought: the Turian lunged sideways, catching his colleague's slender body in his armored arms a moment before the Salarian's head could smash against the polished marble floor.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is what happens when the three Councilors of the galaxy finally manage to agree on a topic and decide, with firm resolution, to take the initiative... the 'end of the Known Galaxy' occurs.
XXX
Meanwhile, inside the titanic corridors of the Moonbreaker.
Nine days have passed, according to the Voidwalkers' calculations, since the SSV Tokyo and its accompanying escort starships had the good fortune—or misfortune—of crossing paths with the Moonbreaker, the immense flagship led by the charismatic Rogue Trader Militant, known simply as the Traveler, and his faithful Voidwalker followers.
After the sumptuous diplomatic dinner that saw the Rogue Trader, the Lady Scientist, the Lady Justicar, five human Alliance captains, the brilliant pilot Gordon Malloy, and XO Aiden Shepard sitting at the same table, a basic agreement had been ratified between the two factions. The human survivors would be treated with the utmost respect as long as they remained aboard the Moonbreaker, and each of them would receive, as formal compensation for the space mishap, an armored chest containing 273 kilograms of pure gold bullion. In exchange, the Voidwalkers would not be held responsible for damaging, capturing, and entirely dismantling the patrol starships previously under the command of Captain Anderson.
However, the evening had taken a completely unexpected turn. The Rogue Trader, fascinated by the Earthlings' temperament, had decided to issue a direct challenge to Aiden Shepard, uttering these exact words:
"If you win, I will name you a champion among your people and you will be generously rewarded. I will bring you and your species to your home planet and grant preferential treatment to humanity when they want to do business with me."
Aiden Shepard, weighing the risks and the extraordinary opportunities, decided to accept the wager for the sake of the humans trapped aboard the Moonbreaker and the entire human race. Shepard certainly did not possess the academic mind and the string of degrees of a scientist like Isaac, but he had compensated by growing up among the ruthless alleys and asphalt of Chicago, sharpening his reflexes in the hacker underworld, and later forging himself in the rigid military training of the Systems Alliance, passing the hellish trials of the legendary N-School.
To him, it was clear: if the Voidwalker fleet had not arrived in the Milky Way to attempt a bloody campaign of conquest, but rather to forge trade routes, then whoever managed to secure the first and best trade agreements would guarantee their faction an incalculable economic and scientific advantage. The Citadel Council could go on selling the media the illusion that all galactic governments got along beautifully, but behind the scenes, every single species sought to seize prestige and respect in its own way. Humanity was fighting hard to prove itself worthy of occupying a seat on the Citadel Council, and obtaining the logistical support of an alien race from another galaxy would represent the ultimate geopolitical leap toward that goal.
Furthermore, pure patriotism aside, Aiden Shepard cared about his own skin. And saying no to an alien resembling a horned demon, who was practically a space pirate king, was simply a terrible idea for one's health.
On the first day of his new program, Aiden Shepard was convinced that it would not be too grueling an experience. After all, he was an elite Systems Alliance soldier, an N7—the absolute pinnacle of warfare capabilities humanity could express. Even the alien races of the Citadel who felt no sympathy for humans begrudgingly admitted that an N7-marked soldier was a predator not to be underestimated. Among the ranks of the Turian military, an old adage circulated: 'In Citadel space, you must absolutely avoid three things: an Asari huntress who has spent centuries perfecting the art of combat, an elderly Krogan who has survived a thousand wars, and a human bearing the N7 mark.'
However, Aiden learned very quickly and at his own expense that the symbol stitched onto his uniform meant absolutely nothing to the aliens of the Azure Galaxy.
Almost every single species present aboard the Moonbreaker proved to be physically superior, denser, and more responsive than a normal human being, with the sole, glaring exception of the tiny Lalafell. As if that weren't enough, they possessed special biological capabilities similar to the Milky Way's biotic powers, but decisively more unique and destabilizing. Shepard had been left literally open-mouthed seeing how the Thep-Khufans could stretch, flatten, and manipulate the molecular structure of their bodies as if they were an Egyptian, ghostly version of Mister Fantastic, or how the Transylians possessed muscle masses capable of autonomously generating and discharging massive arcs of electromagnetic energy.
Aiden's martial pride had suffered a severe blow when, during a warm-up session, he had been lifted off the ground and violently hurled from one end of the training room to the other by the Voidwalker equivalent of a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl from a military academy.
That first day had been the most traumatic precisely because Shepard had no idea of the hell he was stepping into. He had been abruptly awoken by the captain of the Kingsglaive, Gladio himself, at exactly six o'clock in the morning according to official Ysatnaf time. One of the first chronological concepts the human had learned about the Voidwalkers was that, for them, a standard day consisted of 30 total hours instead of Earth's 24. Consequently, for the aliens of the Azure Galaxy, the 9 days that had passed since the meeting mathematically translated into 11 Earth days and 6 hours. In short, Aiden Shepard had exactly 210 hours (equal to about 8.75 Earth days) to temper his body, followed by only 30 hours of absolute rest before having to face the fateful challenge.
Shepard's training had not begun with a classic run on the track or clearing a muddy obstacle course like in his early days in the Alliance military. The Voidwalkers favored a decisively more extravagant and scientific approach. Gladio had grabbed Aiden Shepard by his jacket, lifting him into the air with the ease of picking up a sack of potatoes, carrying him bodily to the laboratory of a Neathian doctor named Ekeleka: a woman extraordinarily attractive despite her 180 years of age, as well as an elite scientist specialized in advanced xenobiology.
Aiden had spent the very first hours of that day under Ekeleka's clutches, exposed to the close-range work of a forest of hypodermic needles, bio-monitor sensors, and complex medical instruments scanning his anatomy. In a short time, the Neathian doctor had mapped the entire biology of the N7 soldier, coming to understand the functioning of his every single internal organ down to the millimeter. She had thus drafted a highly rigid medical protocol—a detailed list specifying which alien nutrients could accelerate his metabolism and which drugs, conversely, would kill him on the spot—pairing it with a series of rejuvenating elixirs modified specifically for his biochemical structure.
After completing the genetic analyses, the doctor had consulted at length with Captain Gladio, structuring a dietary and extreme physical exertion program designed to maximize the human's muscle progress in such a short window of time. From that moment on, every morning for Aiden Shepard invariably began inside that sterile laboratory, where Ekeleka recorded the daily variations of his tissues, injecting him with a targeted cocktail of synthetic vaccines and potent cellular stimulants.
The SSV Tokyo's XO could not yet fully realize it, but under the effect of those substances, his immune system had been literally armored: it had become bombproof, to the point that he would never get sick again for the rest of his days, unless someone took the trouble to bio-engineer a super-virus specifically designed to target his DNA strands.
Once dismissed from the clinic, Gladio would lead Shepard to a luxurious mess hall reserved for the fleet's senior officers. There, consuming a high-protein breakfast, the two soldiers chatted about this and that, exchanging opinions on their respective military cultures. Immediately after, Gladio personally escorted him inside a monumental private training hall—a technological arena equipped with every kind of gravitational obstacle, moving target, and impact simulator a warrior of the Voidwalker Fleet could ever need.
It was precisely in that arena that Aiden Shepard made the acquaintance of two women who would help him tremendously in redefining his physical limits... while simultaneously filling him with bruises and hematomas: Lady Dobermann VI and the enigmatic Lelith-037.
Dobermann VI was a beautiful and proud woman, with thick raven hair upon which stood out two perked-up canine ears, matching a slender Dobermann tail that whipped the air with every sprint. Her race was known as the Perro, a lineage belonging to the Ancient Terran people. She was the direct descendant of the original Dobermann dynastic line, which had immigrated to the planet Ysatnaf centuries ago: an entire bloodline formed exclusively of elite soldiers, strategists, and ruthless military instructors.
Lelith-037, on the other hand, was a young girl of barely fourteen years of age from a chronological standpoint, but her alien biology made her appear like a young woman in her early twenties, towering a full twenty centimeters taller than Shepard. Lelith-037 bore a striking resemblance to a dark space elf: very pale, almost ghostly skin, large eyes with fluorescent red irises that glowed in the dim light, long blood-red hair, and sharp, pronounced ears. She wore a skimpy, tight-fitting outfit made of straps and light plates—the kind of lethal attire that only a deadly dark-fantasy assassin from an Anime would dare display on a battlefield.
During Aiden Shepard's first intensive training session, a beautiful young girl with the brain and attitude typical of a fourteen-year-old had almost snapped him in two, slamming him onto the steel floor with a professional wrestling hold worthy of a heavyweight.
Lelith-037, being an unstoppable chatterbox, had told Aiden an infinite number of things during the breaks between one submission and the next. Much of the information was completely useless gossip, but other pieces had proven to be of exceptional strategic interest. The soldier from Chicago thus learned that within U.S.K.Y. territory exist the Tabanians, officially known as the Sisterhood of Tanabata. In the past, this people was called T-Ysatnafians, but the name had now fallen into disuse. The Tabanians are a race composed exclusively of women, an army of bio-engineered super-soldiers created in a laboratory inside a maximum-security facility of the First King of the U.S.K.Y., located on Tanabata, the seventh moon of the icy planet Hyogaki. A full 450 years have passed since the launch of that project, and the Sisterhood of Tanabata has reached its twenty-first genetic generation.
Lelith-037, on the other hand, belonged to the first generation of the Drukhari, the biological cousins of the Tabanians, born and raised entirely within the Voidwalker Fleet. In short, Aiden was dealing with a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl who had spent 75% of every single moment of her life training in hand-to-hand combat and studying tactics to serve in the Voidwalker armed forces. For reasons still unknown to Aiden, the Drukhari girl had been chosen as his official combat partner for the seven days of preparation preceding the match in the arena.
When Captain Gladio could not attend to him directly, Lady Dobermann VI would step in, using her heavy military whip to force the human to surpass his physical limits. Lelith-037, for her part, had no problem serving as a punching bag or a ruthless opponent, testing how much the human's instincts improved hour after hour.
After burning his last remaining energy on the complex Voidwalker training machinery, taking Lelith's joint locks and Dobermann's whip strikes, lunchtime finally arrived. For the N7 soldier, sitting at the table with Gladio, Dobermann, and Lelith was a surreal experience, to say the least: the Drukhari girl never stopped talking for a second about her school life, enthusiastically recounting how lucky she was to have been assigned to the Moonbreaker for her military curricular internship.
Right after lunch, Shepard was escorted to a monumental high-tech library, a solemn environment that combined hundreds of ancient paper tomes with alien holographic screens. In that room, Aiden learned that the Voidwalkers possessed the scientific means to cheat time and manipulate the need for sleep. Under the strict supervision and approval of Doctor Ekeleka, Shepard was the first human to experience the Digital Quantum Gear (DQG) and the Cognitive Sleep Gear (CSG).
The first device, the DQG, was a full-immersion system into the Moonbreaker's cyberspace, dubbed Tsukuyomi Secundus. This technology boasted a unique time-dilation function, capable of accelerating the virtual mind's perception at a 3:1 ratio (one hour in the real world was equivalent to three hours in the digital world). When Aiden's body was too exhausted to move, he would lie down on an ergonomic chair and wear the DQG, absorbing theoretical lessons in a virtual world where nine hours of intensive study weighed on the body like only three hours of physical rest.
The Cognitive Sleep Gear (CSG), on the other hand, was a headband that Shepard wore during hours of deep sleep: the device stimulated brain synapses to concentrate the benefits of eight hours of sleep into just one hundred and twenty minutes, facilitating the memorization of everything he had studied during the day. In this cyberspace, Aiden analyzed dozens of historical arena fights, memorizing the creatures' anatomy and the strict rules of the duels.
Upon leaving the library, Gladio would take him to one of the ship's venues for a "snack": a light break consisting of alien fruit juices and energy snacks. There, Shepard discovered that the Rogue Trader was a total teetotaler: there was no trace of alcohol on the Moonbreaker, and even caffeine was strictly banned, considered by the aliens an illegal drug and a dangerous substance for the nervous system.
The two would then return to the training hall, where Dobermann VI and Lelith-037 were waiting for him to begin the session with traditional weapons. Modern firearms supplied to the Moonbreaker's soldiers were forbidden for Shepard; for his challenge, he would have to wield the archaic weaponry of the Hunters of Ysatnaf. The N7 soldier would indeed have the honor of fighting in the Moonbreaker's ancient arena, a sacred place where warriors were tested according to the customs of the past. One hundred years prior, during the construction of the Moonbreaker, the Rogue Trader had ordered his subjects to dismantle their planet's original arena, brick by brick, to rebuild it identically within the depths of the ship. Aiden quickly adapted to the crude black-powder firearms and their explosives, but found tremendous difficulty in donning the heavy metal armor and utilizing melee weapons, especially the great hunting bow.
After stripping off the armor with the help of his companions, Shepard had dinner. On Earth, at that point in the day, a man would go to sleep; but for the aliens of the Azure Galaxy, the day was still long. Once dinner was finished, Shepard was led to an immense hall—a cross between an ancient museum and an intricate labyrinth—where he had to overcome a series of logical riddles and tests of physical dexterity, feeling like a video game character or like Nathan Drake in Uncharted. After almost frying his brain with puzzles designed to test everyone from children to adult geniuses, Aiden was finally brought to a sumptuous thermal complex resembling Greek and Roman baths, saturated with warm therapeutic waters.
At the end of the relaxation hour and after receiving a small late-night snack to counter his exhaustion, the soldier was shown into a bare room scented with incense, structured like a dojo for the training of the soul. It was meant to be a meditation session to allow the spirit to elevate at the same pace as the mind; however, Aiden, as a pragmatic and materialistic soldier, preferred to exploit those hours of isolation to rest his muscles and enjoy the silence, limiting himself to leafing through the scrolls left as a guide.
Upon leaving the dojo, Gladio led him to a sector similar to the one where the other humans were confined, but which housed cages with gigantic and ferocious alien beasts. Once suited up again in the Ysatnaf Hunter armor, Shepard faced his first, terrifying practical lesson on how to bring down a space predator that looked like it came straight out of the Aliens saga. Having miraculously survived that close encounter, Aiden was finally introduced into a VIP room for a "midnight" tea party alongside the Rogue Trader Militant and one of his splendid concubines, both curious to hear how the human had made it through the day. After consuming a final cup of herbal infusion from who-knows-what corner of the cosmos, a uniformed maid escorted Aiden Shepard to his private quarters. There, the soldier had four free hours of leisure and two hours to sleep.
XXX
This dense 30-hour comprehensive routine became a Swiss dogma for the entire preparation period, ruthlessly respected to the minute:
| Time | Activity |
| 06:00 | Wake-up |
| 06:30 | Medical check-up and stimulants at Doctor Ekeleka's clinic |
| 07:00 | High-protein breakfast with Gladio |
| 07:30 | Training hall: hand-to-hand combat with Lelith and Dobermann |
| 12:00 | Official lunch |
| 12:30 | Theoretical study in the Tsukuyomi Secundus cyberspace (3:1 dilated perception) |
| 15:50 | Light snack based on alien fruit |
| 16:00 | Training hall: training with archaic weapons and Hunter armor |
| 19:30 | Dinner |
| 20:00 | Training of the mind: labyrinth and logical riddles |
| 23:00 | Regenerating bath in thermal and medicinal waters |
| 24:00 | Late-night snack |
| 24:30 | Training of the spirit: solitary meditation in the dojo |
| 27:00 | Field training against alien beasts |
| 30:00 | Honorary tea party with the Rogue Trader and his concubines |
| 01:00 | Free time and leisure in the VIP quarters |
| 04:00 | Deep sleep assisted by the Cognitive Sleep Gear |
| 06:00 | Wake-up and start of a new cycle |
XXX
On the eighth day, the one formally designated as the period of pure and absolute rest, Shepard was finally supposed to relax and recharge his biological batteries however he saw fit. Truthfully, the soldier from Chicago desired nothing more than to remain stretched out on a bed for the next thirty hours. He might have been an elite N7 warrior, but the training program inflicted upon him in the previous cycles had been nothing short of grueling, leaving every single muscle fiber aching.
Unfortunately for him, his plans for deep sleep were abruptly interrupted by the only woman aboard the entire Moonbreaker who did not bend, nor obey, the will of the Rogue Trader: Adeline Wu Jones, Traveler's twin sister, jokingly (but not too much) nicknamed by the fleet as the Diva or the Golden Diva.
Adeline was a splendid and magnetic alien creature whose features recalled those of a mythological succubus. She possessed short hair of a bright scarlet shade, small dark horns sprouting gracefully among her locks, smooth caramel-red skin, and large bat wings unfolding sinuously directly from her hips, matching a long, slender tail that ended, at its tip, with a charming heart-shaped metal accessory. The Diva wore a skimpy baby-pink outfit that recalled the style of a belly dancer, but infinitely more lavish, studded with hundreds of pure diamonds that made her shine like an Arabian fairy tale princess. In addition to her status as guest of honor and younger twin sister of the ship's sovereign, Adeline boasted the pompous titles of High Priestess of the Tianzi and Ambassador of the Tianchao, a wealthy enclave present within U.S.K.Y. territories, originally founded by one of the dynastic branches of the First King.
The Diva had decided on pure impulse to meet the man of the moment, the human who had managed to monopolize her brother's attention. And once she established that the N7 intended to waste his precious day of idleness locked within four walls staring at the ceiling, she decided to take him under her own protective wing to give him a taste of the legendary hospitality of the Tianchao.
The Alliance soldier tried to object, firmly declaring that he did not want absolutely anything, but Adeline dismissed him with a gaze that brooked no argument:
"I am considered by a fair number of people to be the Evil Twin, I regularly take antidepressants and antipsychotics, I have a hundred female servants at my exclusive disposal, I can commit a massacre, and the only one who can punish me won't give me anything harsher than house arrest and probation for a few years, a decade at most. Do you want to test me?"
Not intending to risk his own life—and even less the safety of his compatriots from the SSV Tokyo—Aiden Shepard wisely chose to indulge the woman's whims.
The military man was thus escorted around by the Golden Diva. Along the way, five of her personal handmaidens and a single, silent maid sent directly by the Rogue Trader joined their group: a girl named Bryce, whose main task was to keep an eye on Adeline's reckless impulses. All the handmaidens were alien women of extraordinary beauty, wrapped in traditional costumes coordinated with those of their lady:
- The Fox-girl: golden, amber skin, a fiery orange mane, thick fox ears and tail of the same shade, and piercing emerald-green eyes; she wore a ruby-red dancer's dress with gold embroidery.
- The Cat-girl: very pale and delicate porcelain-like skin, hair as black as the deep night, sleek and twitchy cat ears and tail, sapphire-blue eyes, and a deep purple harem outfit.
- The Dog-girl: skin of a soft caramel shade, wavy chocolate-colored hair, graceful canine ears, warm amber eyes, and a semi-transparent turquoise dance costume.
- The Bunny-girl: snow-white skin with lavender undertones, very long silver-white hair, tall, perked-up rabbit ears, ruby-red eyes, and a light pastel-pink Arabian dress that offered glimpses of her figure.
- The Elf: sun-kissed olive skin, long emerald-green hair, pronounced pointed ears, and sparkling golden eyes, dressed in a sumptuous emerald and gold odalisque costume.
Bryce, on the contrary, was a petite young woman with composed features. She had short black hair tied in a small side ponytail, very white skin, light gray eyes, and wore a sober, impeccable black-and-white maid outfit, free of any frills.
Within a few hours, and thanks to a few explanations whispered by an exasperated Bryce, Aiden understood that he had not fallen victim to a ruthless criminal mastermind, but had rather become the shiny new toy of a spoiled Diva. The N7 realized how fortunate he was that Adeline regularly took her medications and was constantly watched over by Traveler.
Despite the bizarre premise, Shepard had the exclusive privilege of being the first human being to set foot in Lumity City, the majestic, hyper-technological city located within the lower decks of the Moonbreaker. Faced with that sci-fi spectacle, for a moment the human even forgot about the lethal trial awaiting him on the ninth day. Adeline and her cheerful handmaidens guided him on a private tour through the most luxurious neighborhoods and elite clubs of Lumity City, where Shepard was treated with the regard normally reserved for a member of a royal family or the guest of honor of a planetary noble dynasty.
Bryce silently took care of settling every single bill for the services, banquets, and luxuries consumed during the excursion. Many local merchants and restaurateurs categorically refused to accept money from the Rogue Trader's sister, but the maid firmly insisted on electronic payment, acting for all intents and purposes as the only responsible adult and the babysitter of the entire group. Aiden found it rather peculiar that a simple female servant enjoyed the exact same level of respect and prestige as a Kingsglaive knight, if not higher.
During that stay, Shepard learned that Adeline was the equivalent of a Hollywood megastar: she was famous throughout the Voidwalker Fleet and across several galaxies as an unparalleled Idol, an acclaimed film actress, and a professional model. To the subjects, she was first and foremost these three things, and only secondarily Traveler's sister or the High Priestess of the Tianchao.
Questioning Bryce during a break, Aiden discovered that the Tianchao was considered the Las Vegas of the U.S.K.Y., the Enclave of Sin, a gigantic solar metropolis where anyone could find anything to satisfy their darkest desires. Bryce, with a serious gaze, gave sincere advice to the N7 soldier: "Put plugs in your ears, a steel padlock on your trousers' belt, and swallow the key, Commander. The women of the Tianchao clergy are born seductresses, trained to do much more than just talk."
Shepard, aided by the relaxed atmosphere and the splendid company, initially thought Bryce was far too strict and rigid. Especially because Adeline did nothing but flirt in a mischievous and playful manner with the maid herself; as it turned out, dragging Shepard along on that tour had been merely an elaborate pretext to force Bryce to keep her company. For his part, the N7 had to handle the five handmaidens, who targeted him with curious questions about the Systems Alliance and the Citadel Council. Commander Shepard was a hardened soldier, but he remained a man made of flesh and blood, not stone: aboard human military ships, it was rare to spend time with women of such class.
Toward evening, the group left Lumity City to relocate to the Pink Quarter: not a proper city ward, but rather a luxurious private area of the Moonbreaker that served as a personal amusement park for Adeline and her female servants, ironically dubbed by the inhabitants as the "Tianchao Embassy."
No sooner had they crossed the threshold of the Pink Quarter than Aiden was hit by a sweet, exotic, and intoxicating scent. Before he even realized it, he found himself sitting inside a luxurious private club equipped with a large stage illuminated by soft lights. Adeline had changed outfits, sporting a pink and white star-Idol dress. The Diva performed a celestial song, moving in unison with her five handmaidens in a display of dance and melody without equal, orchestrated exclusively for Bryce and the soldier.
The maid remained impassive, but the N7 soldier inevitably fell prey to the otherworldly charm of the women of the Tianchao. It was a hypnotic effect that no man or woman could resist, unless they had received specific training against the enchanting arts of that lineage.
When Aiden Shepard reopened his eyes and finally came back to his senses, reality hit him like a cold shower. He found himself completely naked in the center of a monumental bed with silk sheets. Around him, asleep, lay Adeline's five handmaidens. The good news was that the formidable Diva was not in the room; the bad news was that the five girls were just as naked.
Before the Commander could make the mistake of waking those splendid creatures, risking falling once again under their sensory spell, the door to the room clicked open. Bryce made her entry into the bedroom with her customary austere expression. She looked at the human and declared flatly:
"There are exactly seven hours left until the start of your challenge in the arena, Commander. It is time for you to get up and prepare."
Aiden Shepard could say three things with absolute certainty as he walked along the metallic corridors, following the steady, silent pace of Bryce escorting him toward his VIP quarters for a rejuvenating shower and a light breakfast:
- Number one: 'The pilot Gordon Malloy would have literally died of jealousy if he had discovered how his XO had spent the final hours of his day of "rest".'
- Number two: 'The women of the Azure Galaxy, especially those belonging to the clergy of the Tianchao and the Tianzi, were creatures of unprecedented danger. A thousand times more lethal, enchanting, and manipulative than the Asari of the Milky Way themselves.'
- Number three: 'The real show was about to begin. The time for games and seductions was officially up.'
While the hot water of the shower washed away the residues of the exotic scent from the Pink Quarter, Shepard's mind cleared, focusing on the goal. Seven hours separated him from tasting the sand of the ancient arena. Eight Earth days of a brutal, scientific, and almost supernatural training had transformed him: his immune system was invulnerable, his reflexes had been rewritten by the simulated duels in the Tsukuyomi Secundus cyberspace, and his muscles bore the physical marks of the ruthless touch of Gladio, Dobermann VI, and Lelith-037.
He was no longer just the elite soldier who had passed the N-School in Chicago. Now he was the designated champion of humanity, the turning point in a diplomatic and economic agreement that could project the Systems Alliance centuries ahead of their rivals on the Citadel Council. The Turians, the Asari, and the Salarians were still cradling themselves in the illusion of their own political superiority in the Milky Way, completely unaware that a single human officer was about to redefine galactic balances in the deep heart of the Moonbreaker.
Donning his clean uniform and consuming his last light meal under Bryce's watchful and stern gaze, Shepard clenched his fists. He felt the weight of two hundred compatriots and the entire planet Earth on his shoulders. It was time to step into the arena and show the Rogue Trader and his Voidwalkers what humans were made of.
To be continued...
XXX
Author's Note:
This chapter took an unexpected turn in certain places, but I think I did well to introduce the Citadel and the trio of councilors we all know, plus a small summary of what Aiden Shepard did during his training period.