To Sloane’s surprise, Ryder’s impatience made room for a brief chuckle.
Whatever he found funny, they didn’t dwell. Another few minutes of farewells and then it was over. Ryder boarded the last shuttle, which quickly departed without further fanfare. He had his own job in the Initiative, and the Hyperion would depart soon after the Nexus.
The plan was as simple as they could all make it: The Nexus arrives in Andromeda first and completes its final stages of construction, unfolding like an origami surprise from its compact travel form. The Pathfinders would arrive soon after, guiding their arks to dock with the central station. Once up and running, it would serve as a central hub of logistics and government in the colonization of the new galaxy—the Citadel, as it were, of Andromeda.
Only better.
Garson didn’t like it when people called the Nexus that. Sloane understood why. The Citadel carried a lot of baggage for a lot of people, humans or otherwise. Between the politics, the Council’s efforts at outmaneuvering each other—or, collectively, the krogan—and all the bullshit about humans being “too young for the responsibility”…
Sloane shook her head, as if she could shake the irritation out. The list was long, and the death toll attributed to the backlog was even longer.
The Nexus would be everything the Citadel had failed in.
She watched as the hangar doors clanged shut behind Ryder’s shuttle, and a thrill of excitement coursed through her, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
This was it. The final gateway outside the Nexus, at least for a long, long time. Sloane couldn’t look away. They all stood in place, watched as the narrow beam of light from the shuttle’s thrusters got thinner and thinner. Until the doors sealed shut with a final, poignant clang.
Sloane blinked. Looked around furtively, unwilling to be the one to break the silence left behind.
Garson had no such compunction. “Now we rest,” she declared, cheerfully brisk and deliberately nonchalant. As if she knew what Sloane was feeling. What they all felt. “I’m actually looking forward to this part.”
“You are?”
“Why not?” She stretched. “A little sleep, and then we’re there. I don’t know about you,” she added, laughing, “but I think we’ve earned a nap.”
Several of her staff chuckled politely. The others gave knowing, happy nods. They were really going. Really getting it done. “The Nexus,” an announcer trilled over the system-wide comms, “is prepared for final inspection. All personnel to your designated stasis pods.”
Garson held up a finger, pointing up at nothing as the echoes rebounded. Most came from the sudden rise of chatter, of giddy laughter and nervous exhales. “Hear that?” Her dark brown eyes sparkled. “Let’s get to where we need to be!”
Sloane took a deep, steadying breath.
“Repeat,” came the voice, “all personnel to your designated stasis chambers. Launch will commence shortly.”
“To a new world,” Sloane muttered. To herself, really, but Garson slid her a sideways glance full of amusement.
“To a better galaxy,” the woman corrected.
Yeah. Okay. Sloane liked that one, too.
Sloane walked with the party of the core leadership as they finished one last ceremonial review of the vessel. Everything was as it should be, and she felt enormous pride at this culmination of all the hard work they’d already done.
She’d known it going in, but every time she paced the ship, she thought it again. The Nexus was a freaking marvel. Part ark ship, part space station, the construct was second only to the Citadel in scope and ambition. Yet unlike its spiritual progenitor, this place had been built by them. For them.
For a new future.
Humans, salarians, asari, turians. The only non-Council species on board the Nexus were the krogan, and the Nakmor clan had signed on under the contract of working for it. Even so, equals or not, they’d all come together, driven by Jien Garson’s vision. And they’d done it. The Nexus was almost ready to go.
Sloane stood back as the leadership made their way to the designated cryostasis pods. Of them all, she only had more than a passing relationship with two: Garson herself, and Matriarch Nuara, who served as one hell of an advisor on the team. Whatever else the asari did, Sloane appreciated having the long-lived Matriarch on board.
If they were going to make a successful run at this, they’d need the asari’s wisdom. And, Sloane noted with an inward laugh, her biotics. Only a fraction of the Nexus’s passengers and personnel possessed the ability, and much of that came from the asari themselves. Having Nuara made a lot of them feel better, too. Remnants of speciesism the Nexus’s journey was designed to quell.
They were all in this together, now. Nuara and Garson clasped hands, friendship clear between them, and parted with encouraging farewells.
Sloane watched them carefully, mindful of the launching procedure. Their pods had to seal correctly, with no abnormalities in final readings. They and the other first-tier leaders would be first to wake in Andromeda. The hierarchy was set, and it began with top-tier staff—a trained and prepared doctor among them. Top medical would follow, then Sloane would wake soon after. Then the colonization effort would begin in earnest.
A short nap, huh? Sloane shook her head, bemused by the brevity of the concept. Six hundred years was a bit more than a nap. Not that they’d feel it.
She waited while the others, personally escorted to their stasis pods, exchanged farewells and encouragement. She’d oversee the sealing of this chamber before returning to hers, where part of her team was already fast asleep.
Soon enough, Sloane found herself alone with Garson. As if the woman felt like she had to, she waited and watched with Sloane until every pod was sealed and blinking all the right colors for successful stasis.
Sloane wasn’t sure what to say.
Garson had no such problem. “Did you enjoy my speech last night?” she asked brightly.
“Er…” When the woman’s smile turned wry, Sloane grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t hear it. I was…” She trailed off, trying to frame an excuse that was honest, but didn’t make herself out to be a total asshole. Not my thing probably wasn’t it.
“It’s alright, Director Kelly.” She tapped her nose with a knowing finger, dark eyes openly laughing up at Sloane. “It was a very busy night.”
“Busy,” Sloane repeated. And if Garson believed that, Sloane was a naked quarian. “Yes, exactly. Lots to prep. Briefings and things.”
“Well.” She stepped into her own waiting pod, her tone amused. “If you want to listen to it, there is a recording in the core. Just in case people needed some last-minute inspiration.”
Sloane shrugged, but knew she would. “Everyone did say they really liked it,” she admitted. “I guess I should know what my team’s been raving about.”
“Good. Do that.” Another smile, this one more her signature power move. Clean, bright, and not a thing weak about it. Or her. Garson hadn’t gotten this far by being a pushover.
Sloane respected that.
Garson lay back, adjusting the folds of her uniform. Like maybe she’d get uncomfortable? Sloane wasn’t sure how it’d all work, but she figured a centuries-old wedgie would be among the worst of their problems.
She may have dodged most of the science meetings, but she’d seen Garson’s meticulously noted plans, cleverly rewritten so even the laymen among the Nexus crews could get it. The data had long since come back. There were habitable planets, welcoming space, lots to explore, to settle, to grow.
They were pioneers, the first to travel to another galaxy, and by whatever gods among them, they’d get it done.