AN: Hey everybody! I'm going to try to refrain from a super long author's note to start with, and just give you guys the basics. First off, this is an OC centric story, so if you are wondering where everybody is, they're not going to be in here, aside maybe a few cameos. Second, If there are any discrepancies with this story and any of the other media in the series besides the games, I apologize, as I have not read/seen them. Any information that might be from those sources is the product of me browsing the wiki, so if you tell me that I'm wrong about a certain event, I'm not going to have a clue what you're talking about. Third, I'm now going to shut up, and let you feast your eyes on this glorious wonder. (Shameless self-promotion, WOOT!)

Disclaimer: Sorry, I don't own Mass Effect, BioWare does.

Terra Zenith, Colony #1

June 10, 2157

7:55 A.M.

Stacey's morning groan was worse than usual. The previous night, the woman had had one too many drinks, and was now sporting the killer headache and nausea to prove it. Only to add to the absolute stress of waking up with a hangover, was the absence of a warm body next to hers, eliciting another groan from the very sick woman. Apparently, Kent had thought it would be a good idea to leave her be this morning, and tromped off to work without waking her. Now she had to get Holly dressed, fed, and had to ferry her to school. By herself. With a hangover.

Fabulous.

Tearing herself from her bed sheets and recoiling in pain from the bright sunlight streaming in through the window, Stacey trudged to the master bathroom, muttering something akin to "Aspirin," but she couldn't really tell herself. Spying herself in the mirror, the woman decided that she certainly felt worse than she looked. Sure, her hair was a bit more tousled and mussed than normal bed head, and her mismatched eyes were red and bloodshot, but that usually happened in the morning anyway. Stacey wasn't a morning person by a long shot.

Deciding a shower would be prudent; Stacey stripped out of her skivvies and stepped into the stall, turning the water on as hot as she dared to do without burning herself, thinking it would help clear her head. The cascade of liquid seemed to refresh her a little, though definitely not enough to avoid medication. After toweling off, she rummaged through the medicine cabinet that doubled as a mirror, her hand soon alighting on a bottle of aspirin.

Grabbing the bottle, bringing it with her back to the bedroom, and placing it on the nightstand, Stacey was soon searching through her drawers for a new pair of undergarments. Finding only a few clean ones, the woman told herself that she should do the laundry later. After slipping the garments on, she also selected a good pair of dark blue jeans and her favorite tank-top – an orange floral print with a white background – to wear to work. Stacey decided to forgo socks for now, feeling a little too warm for them. She also kept her hair down, silently thankful that it was naturally straight.

Snatching the aspirin on the way out after getting dressed, Stacey stumbled her way out of the bedroom with reasonable finesse considering her current condition, and eventually arrived at the kitchen. Briefly, her tired mind considered whether to brew actual coffee, or just go with the cheap instant crap. Looking at the clock, Stacey opted for instant, and as soon as the mug was spinning in the microwave, left the kitchen to go wake Holly.

"Ms. Shale, it's time to get up!" the woman practically shouted at the child's door. Hearing the grumblings of a high pitched voice and the sound of movement, Stacey returned to the kitchen with her first satisfied smile of the day, despite the fact that she had to clutch her head from the pain of shouting. "Note to self," she muttered in a less than pleased tone, smile now gone, "Never shout with a hangover again."

Retrieving her cup of instant crap – coffee, she told herself in her head, coffee – from the microwave and setting it on the table, Stacey unscrewed the bottle of fast-acting aspirin, and downed two of the little white tablets with a swig of said coffee. The woman didn't even bother to stifle the sigh of pleasure that escaped her as the combination of caffeine and painkiller worked its magic. "Thank god for advances in modern medicine. Now all they need is a cure for the actual hangover in the first place."

Feeling considerably more able, Stacey picked up her mug and sat down at the table in the center of the room, pulling the datapad she found laying there closer to her for her perusal. It was a note from Kent, obviously apologizing for leaving her alone with child-care duties. It confirmed her suspicions that, yes, the stupid colony guard had taken her man from her three hours ago, at five o' clock in the morning. He went on to say that he was terribly sorry about it, and that he loved her immensely. Unfortunately for Kent, Stacey was not so easily won over with pretty words. There would be hell to pay when she saw him later, career be damned!

While she waited for her charge to emerge from her room, Stacey took the chance to appreciate her surroundings. She was inside Colony Residential Building #25, but to her, it was home. Sure, the house was utilitarian in style and design, and was sparsely decorated, but it was a home all the same. The fact that it was a step up from all of the apartments that she'd lived in back on Earth had always made Stacey laugh, despite the fact that people on the homeworld thought that she was actually just slumming it in an over-glorified trailer.

Terra Zenith was a beautiful world. The grass was greener than any Stacey had ever seen on Earth, and the mountain that stood over the colony provided nice scenery. However, the most aesthetically pleasing part of the planet was the beautiful ring of ice that you could see in the sky at night. From a life-supporting point of view, the planet was perfect. It was a world whose soil could support most Earth plants, and it was also a rich source of iron. Surprisingly however, the planet had little insect or animal life, the land being predominantly filled with flora rather than fauna. Still, there were reported sightings of animals akin to Earth squirrels, and there were rumors of horse-like creatures on the plains surrounding the mountain.

Drawn from her reverie by the sound of the door sliding open behind her, Stacey turned around to see a little girl, no more than six years old, with bright blonde hair, fair skin, and icy blue eyes. Looking up, Holly gave Stacey a tired grin and said, "Good morning Big-Sis."

"Good morning to you too, Ms. Shale," replied Stacey, putting down the datapad and going over to the child, a happy grin settling on her features. "Can I get you anything to eat?"

Holly was Kent's considerably younger sister. She was, by far in Stacey's opinion, the cutest little girl ever, impossibly sweet, and was implicitly innocent. Once, Stacey had had a large amount of trouble describing to the child that, no, she was not her mother, and that Kent was in fact her brother, and not her father. The event had caused her no small amount of embarrassment, and Kent had felt her wrath later when she found out that he knew of the little girl's views, but had done nothing to correct them. That had been two years ago, and Stacey's poor fiancé still hadn't heard the end of it.

Stacey noticed that the girl had gotten dressed on her own, and the outfit actually looked coordinated, sending a shot pride through the young woman. The girl had dressed herself in a black sundress, and had a bright red ribbon tied in a bow in her long hair, around a blonde braid that hung just to the left of Holly's face.

Holly replied with, "The usual, please," before plopping herself on one of the table's chairs.

"You got it, Ma'am," Stacey returned, eliciting a light giggle from the child. The young woman always addressed Holly formally in the morning, after an incident where she had offended the girl during breakfast by rudely calling her the plant princess, and caused Holly to throw a fit. Afterward, to avoid further incident, Kent had suggested that Stacey only refer to the child as Ms. or Ma'am in the early hours.

The little girl actually was good with plants though, and she even had one in her room that she took care of, without the help of her surrogate parents. It was an orchid, a flower that Kent had thought a morbid choice. Stacey had told him to shut up, knowing that Holly had confided in her that she wanted to be a botanist when she grew up, and she didn't want to discourage her. Morbid taste in flowers aside, Holly's dream seemed very down to earth for a six year-old girl, in a metaphorical sense, as well as a puny one. Unfortunately, it didn't make as much sense literally because of the fact that they were not located on Earth, but, you can't have them all.

Stacey moved to fetch the girl her breakfast – oatmeal, if you could believe it – and hummed a tune to herself. Despite her crappy awakening, and decidedly gross instant coffee, Holly always put a smile on the young woman's face. Stacey had never been prone to maternal feelings prior to meeting Kent back on Earth, but she had to admit that she had a large soft spot for her fiancé's little sister.

"Here you are, Ms. Shale, one bowl of oatmeal, with extra cinnamon-sugar," Stacey told the little girl as she sat her food in front of her, along with a spoon she'd snagged from the drawer. The young woman moved herself to the other side of the table, and sat down in front of her charge, sipping coffee from her mug.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Holly questioned.

Stacey made a dismissive gesture and said, "Nah, I don't have to go into work till eleven, so I can wait." She glanced at the clock. "Meanwhile, you need move it sister, we've gotta leave in ten minutes."

Holly smiled slyly. "We might leave faster if you actually had shoes on."

Glancing down, Stacey noticed that she was indeed barefoot. Smiling embarrassedly, the young woman excused herself from her sister's presence, retreating back to the bedroom to fetch socks and shoes. Thinking to accessorize a bit - since she would probably eat out and go to work from there – she also added a brown leather belt and a silver metal bracelet in the shape of an ouroboros to her ensemble.

When she returned, Holly had finished eating, and was rinsing the bowl off in the sink. Smiling slightly, Stacey left her charge to it, and fetched her purse from the foyer, along with an mp3 player that she'd left to charge. Sometimes, when she needed a break from the bustle of work, she'd seclude herself in the bathroom and blast one of her favorite songs in her ears. She found the exercise relaxing, although she would probably be docked some pay for taking 'unscheduled' breaks.

"Holly!" she yelled, "You ready?"

The girl raced into the room saying, "Just about. Still need to put shoes on."

"And you get on my case," Stacey rebuked, and, seeing as the girl had stopped in her tracks, continued, "go girl, don't let my grumbling stop you, we'll be late." Holly nodded, and quietly slipped on her sandals while her sister waited. Seeing that the little girl was ready, Stacey wasted no time careening out the door.

Terra Zenith Colony No.1, or Tezuno, as Stacey liked to call it, was, unfortunately, not large enough for there to be a public transit in town, despite having existed for four years. As such, Stacey and Holly had to walk to the school, a good ten minutes away. Not to mention the fact that Stacey would then have to walk to the commercial district from there, almost thirty minutes away. Luckily for both of them, the designers of the colony had decided that it would be a good idea to place the school in the residential district, so they at least wouldn't have trouble making one deadline.

Because of the colony's status as more of a mining outpost, the ratio of children to adults was quite low. The adult populace topped off at around one-thousand, while there were only about twenty-five children. What was more; ninety percent of the adults were miners, while five percent were soldiers, like Kent. The remaining five percent were fortunate enough to work in the commercial district, where Stacey worked as a bartender. Apparently, no matter where you lived, people needed alcohol for one reason or another.

Although the soil was able to support crops, Terra Zenith still imported food. Apparently, the government thought mining resources was a much better way to use the colonists' time, but had promised to create farms once they had gotten a new influx of colonists. That event was likely not to happen, mostly because of the fact that the government was diverting all resources to their sister colony on Terra Nova, but the whispers of a war with aliens, of all things, were also sure to put people off to the idea of colonizing another planet. Terra Zenith was definitely backwater, and any and all reports of news from offworld came from food shipments, the last one being a month ago, so Stacey didn't really know what to make of an interstellar war or the threat of another sentient species, when she had no context on the matter. Even Kent didn't know, and he was the one in the military.

Holly was practically bouncing around as they walked, her hair flopping about as she moved. Stacey, ever curious, inquired as to what had gotten the child so worked up.

"We're having class outside today!" Holly exclaimed. Of course, nothing got her so excited like nature.

Stacey chuckled at the child's enthusiasm. "Oh, is that so? What are you doing today?"

"We're planting a garden, it's a class project!" Holly replied with considerable verve, making her sister laugh a bit more. "What's so funny Big-Sis?" the child asked, confused.

Stacey laughed in response and reached down to tousle the girl's hair. "Nothing kiddo, you're thinking too hard."

Obviously not pleased, Holly protested, but was instantly shushed by the older woman, who had barely managed to stifle another giggle at the child's annoyed expression. Possibly seeing she would get nowhere with her inquiries, Holly shrugged, and resumed bouncing around until they arrived at the school.

The school was actually just a building a few times larger than most of the houses, big enough to hold a few classrooms, and not much else. The schoolyard was just a wide expanse of grass, bordered by a few trees that had been transplanted for that purpose.

As soon as they were in sight of the door, Holly darted off, waving a goodbye behind her in her haste. Stacey smiled again at the child's enthusiasm, waved, and turned around to start the trek to the commercial district, which was located on the complete other side of the colony.

Thirty minutes later, arriving at her destination, Stacey immediately made her way to one of the two cafés still open. The commercial district was small, literally containing a couple cafés, bars, and a large department store. The only way for the restaurants to exist was to have specific types of food shipped to them exclusively, so the department store only stocked bare essential rations, like oatmeal for instance, along with basic supplies of every kind.

The café that the woman currently resided in, Rising Eagle, specialized in American cuisine, and was Stacey's favorite of the two, which may, or may not, have had anything to do with the fact that it served bacon. Stacey had always groaned at the whole, bacon is delicious, stereotype, but what could she say? It tasted good.

After a delectable breakfast of the salty strips of meat in question, along with a mug of decidedly less shitty coffee, Stacey reclined back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing her stomach with an audible sigh.

The brunette hostess came over and sat down in the chair across from her. "Hey Stace," she said, her humorous brown eyes smiling almost as brightly as her actual mouth.

Stacey cracked an eye open. "Hey Maribel. Aren't you supposed to be working? You know, greeting customers and such."

Maribel was the owner and proprietor of the café, who also worked as its greeter. She was a good friend to Stacey, despite being ten years older, and the two were regular drinking buddies. Maribel had a tendency to get into other people's business, however, and being drunk usually loosened her lips. As such, Stacey had never told her friend anything particularly profound, and the same could be said for Maribel.

The hostess looked around the empty restaurant incredulously. Spreading her arms, Maribel asked, "Do you see any customers other than you? I think not."

"Isn't that beside the point? You should be standing up there to get customers in here."

"I'm on break," Maribel grunted in reply.

Stacey raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to further provoke her friend. "Anyway, I'm sure you didn't come over here to talk about your work ethic. What's up?"

The older woman smirked slightly. "You're right, I didn't. I came over to discuss something a bit more fun… like what happened last night."

Stacey's eyes widened. Had she said anything she shouldn't have while drunk? Stacey didn't think so, but the memories were just hazy enough to cause worry.

Maribel laughed at her friend's expression. "Don't worry hon," she said, "It's nothing like that. I just wanted you to know that I had to drag your drunken ass home last night with your fiancé."

Relief flooded through the bartender. Good. She liked Maribel, but she didn't trust her to keep secrets. "I offer you my condolences."

"Damn right! No offence Stace, but you're a bitch when you're drunk. You almost clawed my eyes out."

Stacey waved it off. "Mari, you are one of the biggest drama queens I've ever met. Kent would never let me do that."

"Speaking of Kent," Maribel inquired, leaning forward, "When are you two getting hitched? You've been engaged, what, a year now? And why aren't you wearing your rock?"

The bartender lifted her hand to scrutinize it, and discovered that she was sans engagement ring at the moment. Inwardly, she sighed. She wouldn't be able to go back for it without being late for work. "I must've left it at home. Drat."

"That sucks mate. Still, I wanna know when the wedding day is, you know, so I can crash the party, so come on; give me the heads up, would ya?" When Stacey shyly looked away, Maribel gasped. "You two aren't having problems are you?"

Stacey whipped her head back toward the other woman, and waved her hands in front of her in a flustered dismissal. "No! Of course not! We just…" she hesitated, then decided to tell her friend, "We want to make sure I'm able to adopt Holly first, that's all." Maribel opened her mouth to comment, but Stacey stopped her. "Shut up! It's not common knowledge, and I don't need whatever fluffy comment you've got loaded for me. And before you even ask, no, you can't tell anyone."

The older woman deflated to the verge of pouting. "Come on, just one person?"

"No."

Maribel crossed over into full pout mode. "Party pooper," she grumbled.

After a small silence, the two women eased back into conversation, now chatting about random things: food orders, mining progress, drinks that Maribel wanted Stacey to try, exchanges of gossip, that sort of thing.

Eventually, Stacey looked at her mp3 player, which was more of a PDA, and saw the time. "Sorry Mari, I've got to go. You know, I've got work responsibilities unlike some people."

Maribel just scoffed. "Please," she said, "You know I don't have to do anything until all the miners come back."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever; the point is, I have to go. Talk to you later?"

"Yeah, later Stace, say hello to Bob for me."

"Will do!" the younger woman chirped on her way out the door.

It didn't take Stacey long to make her way to work, it was just across the street after all, but as soon as she walked in the door, she was greeted by a gruff, "You're late."

Stacey turned to her boss, a bald man with a decidedly large, brown beard and who wore a white muscle shirt, black cargo pants, and combat boots. He was polishing a glass behind the bar, and looking at her with a friendly glower.

Good morning to you too, Robert," Stacey replied with a bright grin, "And as for being late, I'm sure Twixt can survive without me for a few seconds."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever just get ready for work." Stacey laughed, and went to get an apron. During the lunch shifts, she was more of a waitress than a bartender, as she had to prep tables, and even wait them on occasion. It was the slow part of the job, but Stacey enjoyed it anyway. Bob skulked back to kitchen to prep some more.

The atmosphere of Twixt was not as discordant as the name would have one believe. The color scheme was dark, yes, but it was comfortable darkness. The lights were dim, but still radiated a comforting glow. As the bar was alike to the one she'd met Kent in, Stacey was probably biased in her opinion, but she loved the place

Once she'd finished prepping tables, Stacey went to her post at the bar. The waitress came in and threw her a greeting, but then just stood by the door in stoic silence. The bartender had learned a while ago that the woman was not one for conversation. Stacey didn't even know her name, despite having worked with her for years.

Bob came out of the kitchen and exchanged a token greeting with the waitress. Stacey noticed that he didn't use her name either, and wondered if she wasn't the only one with that problem. She would have to ask him later, as he suddenly turned to her with a grin. "Well Miss Ash, you look much better than you did last night. You do know that bartenders aren't supposed to test the drinks themselves, right?"

Stacey fixed him with a glare. "Bite me."

A normal employer would have fired her immediately. As it were, Bob just laughed and replied, "Nah, you know I'm not into that kind of thing." Stacey shot him another dirty look, which he took in stride. "Anyway, I saw Kent and Mari dragging your ass outta here kicking and screaming. I assume you made it home okay?"

Stacey polished a glass as she spoke, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Yeah, although Mari did say I tried to claw her eyes out. She says hi, by the way."

"Saw her this morning, did you?"

"Yep. Kent left me with child, so I decided to grab a bite at the Eagle after I got her to school." Stacey suddenly grinned at her boss evilly. "Using his credit chit, of course."

"How'd you get Holly to school with a hangover?" Bob questioned, silently chuckling at how his employee abused her fiancé. Stacey loved Kent with all her heart, but she would be damned if she didn't admit it was tough love.

"How'd you know I had one?"

"Lucky guess."

Stacey smiled again with less malicious intent, finishing the glass and setting it down. "Well, aspirin is a hell of a thing, Bob, believe you me."

Bob laughed out loud that time. "Amen to that. Listen Stace," he said more seriously, "You've got a daughter to look out for; you can't just go out and get piss drunk like that, y'know?"

"Sister," Stacey corrected absently, "And yes, I know. But cut me some slack eh? Kent's kept me in check for years, well, reasonably anyway; I need to cut loose every now and then. Besides, Holly got dressed all by herself this morning, she's not an invalid."

"Alright, just don't let it happen too often." Bob turned around and made for the kitchen, but paused halfway. "Oh, and one more thing…"

"Hmm?" Stacey grunted absently. She had turned away from Bob, and had started polishing the counter with another stray rag she'd found.

"Don't sneak off to the bathroom and listen to music today, okay? I have an image to uphold."

Stacey sighed. "Goodbye, dear paycheck, I knew thee well," she replied to his back, making him give another short bark of laughter.

Turian Stealth Ship Ventus, Orbiting Human Colony, Terra Zenith

June 10, 2157

11:45 A.M.

Lent Tovess drifted slowly into consciousness. It was difficult for him; it would have been so easy to slip back into that vegetative state, where he remembered nothing, and nothing mattered except the prospect of more sleep. But he wasn't allowed to do that; one of the drawbacks to working in the military, The Hierarchy wouldn't just let you laze around and sleep all day, biotics be damned.

In any event, Lent rose from his plank-like bed slowly. No one could say he wasn't getting up, but he was certainly taking his time about it. And of course, to his utter dismay, someone chose that moment to enter the crew quarters. Lent wouldn't dare groan out loud, but some of his displeasure must have shone on his face plates, because the dark-blue female in front of him chuckled slightly.

"Good morning Tovess," she said in a light tone, "Did you enjoy your little nap?" The Turian woman's bright green eyes shone with mischief.

"Stow it, Zecht, you try to keep two angry ensigns in stasis while the captain talks sense into them for fifteen minutes, right after you wake up. It's very taxing," was his scathing reply.

Field Medic Chora Zecht was, in so many words, a smart-ass extraordinaire. Lent had wondered on multiple occasions why she hadn't been discharged for insubordination and disorderly conduct years ago.

"Well I never," she said with mock indignation, "Fine, I guess you don't need to know that the captain wants to see you in his office…"

Lent couldn't get off the bunk fast enough. "Did he say why?"

Chora's mandibles twitched in a Turian smirk. "Nope. He did say he wants you there now, though." She appraised him, seeing he was still in his civvies. "But maybe you might want to get suited up first."

"Alright, thanks Zecht. Now get out of here."

Chora pouted slightly. "You're a huge meanie, Tovess."

It was Lent's turn to smirk. "You know you love it. Now shoo. Go…," he thought for a moment, "… do whatever it is you do when you're not mouthing off."

Chora humphed, turned around, and left with a good-natured grumble of, "Last time I bring you a message."

Lent chuckled a little at the farewell, then went to put on his hard armor, grabbing his pistol as an afterthought. It didn't take him very long to get ready, and soon he was out the door and out in the mess, heading for the captain's office on the top deck.

Unfortunately, in his haste to get to the captain before he deserved a verbal lashing, Lent bumped into the female engineer, Eirika Inice. The powder white Turian had been in the middle of some sort of operation on her OmniTool before crashing into his chest, and yelped, yellow eyes flashing in surprise.

"I-I'm sorry, L-lieutenant Tovess, I didn't see you there!" she stammered out, fast as lightning, backing away instantly. "I'll be going now." The woman practically ran away from him in her haste, and Lent didn't even have time to apologize to her himself, instead having to watch her bolt to some obscure corner of the ship.

He felt a twinge of that same pain that had plagued him throughout his entire life, before shoving it back to the depths of his mind. Normal soldiers were, at best, wary of biotics, and at worst, distrustful. Chora and the captain were the only two on board the Ventus, who didn't have a problem with it. Lent sighed and stepped onto the elevator, telling himself not to dwell on it.

The only reason he was here on the Ventus instead of being assigned to a Cabal, was because he had made several fervent requests to be put on a normal team, and Captain Vahrg Svent, who'd observed him during training, had thought he would be a great asset to his crew. Lent knew he was a powerful biotic, and assumed that the captain had wanted him for that reason. Ulterior motives aside, Lent was truly grateful for the opportunity, and had a large amount of respect for his captain.

So when he stepped into the captain's office after his stint in the elevator, Lent was about to loose a Turian salute to his commanding officer. Instead, he was surprised to see Captain Vahrg Svent admonishing another crewmember.

"I understand your concerns, Corporal, but we just can't do that," the captain said in the voice he used when he was trying to put down a subordinate gently.

The corporal looked like he was going to pout, but instead replied with a stiff, "Yes Captain." The corporal saluted Svent, and went to leave, jolting slightly when he saw Lent in the room. Regaining his composure, the Turian snapped off a quick salute and a, "Lieutenant," before exiting.

After the door closed behind the corporal, Vahrg sighed openly. "Glad he's gone," he muttered, causing a tiny smirk to form on Lent's face. Vahrg was a respectable lifelong serviceman from the same colony as Lent, evidenced in the white marks that were splayed on his dark brown facial plates. He was slightly famed for his ability to command absolute loyalty from his men, and his penchant for ensuring the least collateral damage possible. The captain always put his crew first, making sure they were comfortable with their assignments and listening to all their complaints and suggestions.

That last part was what had gotten Vahrg into the predicament with the Corporal. Lent saluted and crossed his arms, asking, "Captain, What did Verio want?"

The captain covered his face with a large three-fingered hand and sighed. "The kid wanted to move in closer to the planet to see if we could get a better reading on the colonists' communications. I had to tell him that we would be detected if moved any closer. His heart's in the right place, but he needs to see the bigger picture. Didn't take the rejection well, from the looks of him."

Corporal Spade Verio was one of the younger crew members. Only twenty, the kid had very little combat experience, and even less for the stealth mission the Ventus was currently on. Lent didn't like him very much, as the corporal was one of the Turians on the ship that openly distrusted him for his biotics. Lent had chalked it up to inexperience, but it still managed to irk him whenever he talked with Spade.

"Apparently not," Lent affirmed. The corporal was easy to read, and he had definitely had not been happy when he left. "Anyway, you wanted to see me Captain? Did something happen with the mission?"

The Ventus was stationed in orbit around the Human colony, Terra Zenith. They'd discovered the colony close to council space around a month ago, two months after the Relay 314 Incident. Since then, the Ventus had been sent in to monitor the colony's activities, and see if they were planning anything militaristic. Lent hadn't really seen the need, as the population was only a little higher than 1000 people, but you didn't question the Hierarchy.

The mission was made possible by the Turian occupation of another Human colony called Shanxi, which had allowed the Turians to engineer a translation of the Human language. That translation had been invaluable to the Ventus, as it allowed the Turians to understand the Human transmissions, and gather data.

So far, they had been able to glean that the main populace was generally unaware that they were not alone in the galaxy; that the military presence on the colony was around 50 men and was more of a police force; and finally that, in Lent's opinion, the colony was of absolutely no threat to the Hierarchy. Still, the Turian ship was stuck there until the situation was resolved.

All in all, the Ventus was an uneventful post this time around, and Lent wasn't surprised when his captain snorted and said, "Of course not. Those people down there don't even know we exist, let alone know that we're orbiting them."

"So what did you need me for, sir?"

In all of his thirteen years serving under him, Lieutenant Lent Tovess had never seen his captain look so nervous. And yet, here he was, shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot, looking slightly stressed, aquamarine eyes lighting up with uncertainty. It took his captain a few moments to gather himself before he could speak.

"Listen Lent," Vahrg said, addressing him informally, "About your assignment to the ship… the Hierarchy has informed me that-"

Whatever the captain had to say would have to wait. Before he could finish his statement, the ship suddenly rocked, violently, almost knocking the two Turians of their feet.

"What in spirits' name was that?" asked Lent when he regained his footing, formalities completely forgotten for the moment.

Vahrg made a gesture implying he was working on it. The captain moved to the console at the front of the office and pulled up a vid comm. "Commander, what's our status, what happened?" he inquired urgently.

"Sir, I'm not quite sure," the commander's voice crackled out, "I can only guess we've been compromised." He looked distracted for a moment. "Sir, you'll want to talk to the LC down in the gunnery, he says he saw something you won't believe."

The ship rocked again and the captain had to brace the console to remain upright. "I'll believe anything at this point," he remarked dryly, "Thanks commander, see what you can do from there."

"Sir," the commander signed off. Vahrg immediately contacted the Lieutenant Commander.

"What's going on LC?"

"Captain, you're not going to believe, I don't believe, and I'm the one who saw it first but-"

The impatience in the captain's tone was clear. "Spit it out!" he barked.

The LC looked frazzled. "It's Batarians!" he blurted, "A whole bunch of them!"

Despite his earlier assurance, Vahrg's head shook in disbelief. "Are you sure?" he asked, confused at the turn of events.

"Am I sure? Of course I'm sure! I saw those ships, they're batarian, no doubt about it!"

"How many?"

"At least five! How is this possible, how'd they know we were here?" The ship tilted once more and the LC let go a loud string of curses. Vahrg didn't even have time to reprimand him for losing his cool before the officer's section of the ship exploded; causing another tremor that knocked Lent down behind him.

The captain whirled away from the console and pulled the lieutenant up. "Get to the escape pods," he intoned, "We won't win this."

Lent was, in a word, stunned. Turians were not a people who retreated from battle. That he was being ordered to the escape pods meant that, no matter what, Vahrg believed that the ship was going to go down.

"But sir," Lent finally sputtered in protest, "What about you?"

"I have to warn the rest of the ship, send out a distress beacon. Move your ass LT, that's an order!" Vahrg's features softened slightly when Lent still refused to move. "I'll be right behind you, so get a move on."

Lent finally nodded his assent, then turned and sprinted through the door. He had taken a slight risk in ignoring his CO's orders, but he had wanted to make sure the older Turian was going to get off the ship. Once in the corridor, Lent decided that it wouldn't be a good idea to leave by way of the elevator.

That left going through the maintenance shafts. Perfect. Lent sighed as he climbed into the small dark section of the floor. Being under attack with no guarantee of escape or survival was so inconvenient.

And so Lent crawled. It was a dark, cramped, and slow moving process that was punctuated by the ship shaking periodically. Once, during that indefinable period of time, the ship rocked so violently, that Lent crashed into the ceiling of the shaft. "Spirits damned batarian bastards! I swear, if I get out of here…" he said rubbing his head painfully, leaving the threat in ambiguity.

And then the darkness finally gave way. After crawling on his hands and knees in what could be called a scenic route if there was anything to look at, up and down various ladders, and many bumps and bruises, Lent had finally reached the maintenance exit on the cargo hold, near the escape pods. As soon as he poked his head out, he was assaulted by an extremity of noises.

Fire alarms were going off, Turian feet boomed on the ship's metallic floor, and, above it all, a familiar scream. Lent scrambled out of the shaft as quickly as possible, head whipping about, ocean-blue eyes searching for the source of the scream. His eyes alighted on Chora, trapped under a metal beam that had fallen in a recent explosion.

She saw him almost immediately. "Tovess," she cried desperately, "Get your tan ass over here and help me dammit!"

Lent sprinted over, glowing dark blue with biotic energy. Despite the need for concentration, he couldn't help commenting, "I see being in mortal peril hasn't cured you of your mouth."

If she wasn't trapped under the pillar, Lent was sure Chora would have tried to shoot him. As it were, she screamed, "Really? Jokes? Is this really the time?"

"Of course not," he stated bluntly as he maneuvered the beam off of her, "I just thought you'd enjoy the comic relief."

Chora took a short moment to stare at him before she stood up, absently dusting herself off as she did so. "And here I thought I was the smart-ass around here."

Lent's mandibles flared slightly in a smile before a not-so distant explosion made him become serious once more. "No more time for banter, escape pods, now!"

Chora nodded, "Gotcha, let's go."

The short run through the cargo hold was devastating. The ship was a parody of what it had been not ten minutes ago. Holes riddled the hold, and what wasn't gone was a blackened mess. Barriers preventing decompression were all around them. It was a miracle that they were even able to reach the escape pod hangar.

Once inside, the two Turians saw that most pods had already been launched, and with one exception, the rest were in the process of doing so. Lent and Chora clambered into the remaining pod to find that they were not the first ones to reach it.

"Lieutenant, Field Medic, I'm glad you made it," was their reception, which was oddly cold. Lent scowled invisibly when he realized who the light green Turian was.

Chora, never one to take insults lying down, or, at least not when there was an option, called him out with a sarcastic, "Nice to see you too, Corporal Verio," before sitting down on one of the benches and strapping herself in. Lent said nothing and did the same.

Spade, ever snide, asked, "Was anyone behind you, or can we get the hell out of here?"

Lent glared at the other Turian. "The captain said he would be right behind me, so unless you saw him go into one of the other pods, or the ship is a few seconds away from exploding, I suggest we wait."

However the corporal felt about Lent, he would not leave his captain behind, nor would he ignore orders from a superior. This became evident, as he immediately backed down, and nodded his assent.

Then they waited. Every second felt like an hour, every moment ticked down to an explosive, if not colorful, death. It was difficult to not just launch the pod and be done with it, but they would not, could not leave without the captain.

And eventually their wait was rewarded. They saw two figures at the other end of the cargo hold, one being supported by the other. Lent recognized his captain immediately. "Sir!" he yelled, "Hurry! We don't know how long the ship can hold out!" As if to punctuate his point, another explosion rocked the ship, sending the two remaining Turians into a stumble.

If they didn't hear Lent's warning, they did adhere to the explosion's message. As soon as they regained their ground, they moved quite a bit faster, and were soon at the pod. Spade helped the injured Turian inside, also helping to strap her in. Vahrg came in soon after, explaining, "Had to take a detour for Engineer Inice here."

The captain strapped in and gave Spade the nod. There were no more survivors that he was aware of. The corporal wasted no time in sealing the pod, fiddling with the controls for a moment before sitting down.

The pod jerked violently as they left the bay, rocking all of its occupants despite their best attempts to remain upright. As if their hasty exit was not enough, not a few moments after the pod's departure the Ventus was enveloped in a sheet of fire, no doubt from an explosion in the engine, and promptly proceeded to explode in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Luckily for its occupants, the pod had moved out of range to be affected, but were still afforded a good view. Chora let out an impressed click. "Damn. Good thing we weren't on that, eh Captain?"

Vahrg only rolled his eyes at the medic, an oddly asari gesture. Lent wondered where his captain picked it up. "Yes, Field Medic Zecht, a good thing indeed."

Chora's response was a derisive snort, obviously not happy that her sarcastic commentary was not facilitated. Spade took the slight silence that followed as his chance to voice his concerns. "Sir," he said, "With all due respect, why did we retreat? We could have fought back."

The captain sighed. "And what do you propose that we could have fought back with? The main gunnery stations had exploded when I sounded the retreat. Besides, the Ventus was a stealth ship; it wouldn't have had enough firepower to take out five batarian fighters."

"Alright," the corporal conceded, "But what are we going to do now that we've gotten away? Are we just going to run without retaliation?"

"Corporal Verio, again I ask, how are we supposed to retaliate? We have no weaponry besides the ones on our backs. This escape pod has no armor. We would be blasted out of the sky!" The captain's tone was severe, as if he was growing tired of being questioned by his personnel.

"I'm sorry, Captain," the corporal apologized stiffly, "I only wished to know if we were going to fight back."

Vahrg's expression softened considerably. "I know Corporal, and your concerns are well founded. I'm not saying that we're going to take this lying down, but we can't do anything at the moment. Please try to understand the situation."

"Of course, sir."

Lent thought the entire exchange was out of line on the corporal's part. That the kid had the gall to insult his captain's orders so soon after losing the ship… it was infuriating, not to mention taboo.

The pod's occupants settled down after that, each passenger seeming to take time to reflect upon themselves, a reaction that was no doubt due to the near-death experience they recently shared. Unfortunately, this peace, did not last long.

Eirika Inice, who had stayed quiet since entering the pod due to her shy nature, suddenly looked up from her OmniTool, eyes wide. "C-captain?" she stammered out in panic, "I-I have some bad news!"

"Engineer?" Vahrg asked confusedly, "What's the matter?"

"Uh-um, well you know how we got hit in the engines during the attack, you know, cause I was down there and you came to get me and-"

"Deep breath, Inice," Lent supplied, trying to calm her down, "Tell us what happened." The Turian engineer nodded, inhaled sharply, and began.

"I was just running tests to see if we had the proper trajectory to reach the planet the other pods went to, and, well uhm… I don't know how to say this but… apparently, before our pod launched; the Ventus was knocked close enough to Terra Zenith to be captured by its gravity, and uhm… so are we. We don't have the thrust capabilities to shake it off either so… I would prepare for a crash landing!"

AN: If you made it to this note, you've either scrolled down the page or actually read the chapter. If you did the latter, thanks! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I know I'm going to enjoy continuing it. This is, by far, the longest thing I've ever posted, so if you guys and gals could tell me if I tend to ramble, that would awesome. Also, despite what I said earlier, if there are any discrepancies with events or places, please let me know, and I will strive to fix them. Finally, please, please, please, tell me what you thought about the sort of action-esque escape scene, I'm sort of agonizing over it, as I've never written one before.

Wow, after all of those requests, I think I'm starting to sound like a beggar. Anyway, thanks again for reading, and I hope to see you all, next chapter.