Ok. I'm writing this short story for only one reason. I saw a play on TV, and following it, I thought, "Hey. I can use some of these themes in my story. All I have to do is throw in a little romance!"

You guys get a bonus points for recognizing what play I'm talking about. This will be the first story to host sexual relations (or Sex, for those of you mature enough to say that without laughing).

I'm still working on Subject 23. Relax. I've gotten a Beta, so I'll see how that works out. Consider this to be my little side mission. Hope you guys like my new character. He's not a Self-Insert (That would be 23) and I'm sure you're all aware of how I spice things up with overplayed ideas.

Anyways, I hope you guys like it.

"Get him!"

"MOVE!"

James Durand ran, weaving and ducking through the streets. The numerous C-Sec guards followed close behind, Officer Vakarian leading the pack. For three years he had hunted the thief, always getting close enough to catch him, almost able to return the criminal to the jail he came from. Yet, each time, Durand outsmarted him. Whether it be a chase or a dead end, Vakarian never achieved his goal. But THIS time was going to be different. James had attempted (or rather, achieved) to steal the necklace of the Salarian Councilor.

In all his years on Citadel Security, Vakarian had never witnessed such daring nerve from a thief. Durand was uncommon, that much was certain, but the officer never let his peers know the personal feelings. To the rest of them, Durand was a common crook. Nothing more. Vakarian grimaced, pushing his way through a small collection of school children. The thief wasn't making this chase easy.

His breathing was heavy, but the taste of freedom, the cool Citadel air against his face, gave a sense of life that nothing else could even combat. He ran, dodging police left and right. He vaulted through a vendors stand, almost knocking the poor volus down. The storeowner yelled at the young man through hisses.

James was grinning, his black hair whipping back, as he started to run up the incline created by the escalator. Glancing to the rear, he spotted a familiar looking Turian. Squinting, James noticed the scar. It ran along the right side mandible, and continued all the way down under the armor. He smiled. It seemed that Vakarian was after him again. James turned around, and continued his run.

A short while later, Durand found himself in a thinly constructed alleyway. Hoping to avoid the dangers surrounding the unsettling location, he swiftly made his way through the setting. Hoping to keep quiet, for fear of the men chasing him, James hugged the wall closely. As he approached the corner, he kept his breathing low. Peeking slowly, he spotted Vakarian. The Turian was giving directions to a small collection of new recruits, who looked excited at the idea of a chase. They all carried stun pistols, as they weren't full officers yet. Their battle-worn leader was giving a speech as he walked down the line. James listened in, and felt a small moment of pride when he heard the topic at hand.

"Now gentlemen. We've requested your help for a very important job. Somewhere in this district resides a man. That man is James Durand. You have not heard of this man for a simple reason: He does not matter. Durand is a small time crook, operating in this ward along with Zakera. He was originally placed in the ward's jail for stealing food, but deserted his parole. For the past three years I have personally hunted him, and for the first time in those years, I can safely say that he is going back to the cell he left behind."

James nearly snorted. Pathetic. Damn Turian didn't understand where he came from. He should never have been placed under arrest for such a weak excuse three years ago. Starving shouldn't be punished with jail, since all he had been trying to do was survive. The time spent locked away did teach him a few things: Nice guys finish last, look after your own skin, and steal what you need to live.

Living by those axioms were major to James, and his constant upholding of them continued to keep him alive. Snapping back to reality, he heard the Turian continue to talk.

"We've blocked off this ward, leaving him no escape. The only thing to do now is to search. All of you will be posted at strategic positions around the area. You are to be on search for Durand the entire time. Any questions?"

A private stepped forward, annoyance built onto his face.

"I have a couple questions sir. First, why are we required to do this? When I signed up to be an officer, I didn't expect to be babysitting a slum. Second, why does this guy even matter? You told us yourself that he isn't worth shit. What's got the entire Citadel on alert?"

While the recruit was indeed polite with his words, the slight tone of arrogance and annoyance slipped through. Vakarian would not accept such low respect, especially coming from a child straight out of the Academy. He stepped right in front of the recruit, meeting his eyes. The Turian stood taller than the human, which commanded respect.

"Your job, private, is to follow your orders. I should also mention that the person who catches this thief gets full acceptance to the ranks of C-Sec. As for the reason why we are chasing this man…well…That's something else entirely. It seems that Mr. Durand has had the unfortunate luck of picking a bad target. During his last attempt to pickpocket, he didn't realize that he had stolen a quite valuable necklace from the pocket of the Salarian councilor. Obviously the politician has demanded that the necklace be returned. Anyone who refuses to help with this investigation will be brought up on charges of treason. Now. Does that answer your question?"

The private nodded, eyes wide with fear. This was deeper shit than he thought.

"Good. Move out!"

James watched from around the corner as the squad of soldiers moved down the street, going farther away from his position. While trying to sneak another look at Vakarian, James got rather complacent, accidentally knocking over a small crate.

BANG.

Vakarian whipped his head around, eyes catching the thief standing there, disbelieving what he'd done.

-You have GOT to be fucking with me…-

"STOP!"

James ran. The small side street would empty out into a slightly larger one, and hopefully he could lose his pursuer in the crowd. Dodging the alley's inhabitants, which consisted of various species, was quite difficult. Even though there was only one man after him, James knew that no one else was quite as dedicated to putting him back into jail. It wouldn't be the same comfortable cell like before though. James was sure that the councilor would lock him up in the worst place imaginable, probably an Ark ship or a prison world. James ran for his life.

Vakarian was right behind Durand. Even after the years of fighting for justice, the old Turian could keep his own when chasing a suspect. James was the most difficult however. The young man nearly ran into an Elcor, sidestepping at the last possible second. A monotone rebuke sounded as the officer ran past.

-I will not lose him. Not this time-

-Shit. Gotta get on the rooftops-

James turned suddenly, sprinting down another damp and dark alley. The two of them were now in far less attractive scenery, as homeless Asari begged for money, some offering their bodies up for food. A volus, dead of a suit breach laid on the corner of a street. As Vakarian ran past, he couldn't help but feel revulsion. This was his ward, yet he could not stop the disease of poverty. The council, for all that it was worth, did nothing for the poor and downtrodden. Durand was one of the few lucky ones, able to survive on his abilities alone. Regardless of how Vakarian felt about the teenager, he did understand the plight.

But that wasn't an excuse. Durand made his choices, and so did Vakarian. As he swore to catch the thief, he also promised to stop those who broke the law. There was no gray area for Vakarian. For that, Durand would waste his life in jail. The Turian was sure of that.

James turned quickly, hoping to find the large street. Instead, he was met with a dead end. Various tubes and pipes ran up the side of the factory. James froze, staring at the large roadblock. He glanced back and forth at the pipes, tracing a path through them. After gathering faith in his route, he grinned slyly, and started to climb the pipes with ease.

Vakarian ran around the corner, eyes scanning for his target. A loud metal clunk was heard, which caught the Turian's attention. Staring up, he saw Durand inches from a large glass window which laid open. Without hesitation, he whipped out his pistol, the laser dot sight staring down James's head.

"FREEZE! I've got you covered, Durand. Come down here and give up."

James stopped for a second, turning to talk to the officer.

"Vakarian. Good to see you."

The man responded with a slightly darker inflection.

"Not so good for you, James. Why don't you drop down, then we can share the pleasantries."

James laughed.

"No such luck. I'm a little offended though. Why so angry? You talk to me like I'm sort of criminal. Vakarian, if you knew what my life was like, I doubt you would stop me from stealing all the bread on the Citadel."

The Turian spoke with anger in his voice.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Jean Valjean? Nothing you go through deserves such casual disregard for other people."

James pointed at Vakarian.

"I know what I have to do to survive. Casual disregard works for that, but not to live. You have the choice to do that Vakarian. I don't. I never will."

Without another word, James disappeared through the window, leaving the officer to brood in the middle of poverty's house.

-Keelah. This was a mistake. If I wasn't going to get hired in Zakera, I'll probably get shot just for walking here-

Lia'Vael walked down the streets, careful to avoid the desperate beggars. As she walked past them, most would simply hold out cans in hope of some spare change. Others, some clearly insane, would scream or curse at her for being "unclean". The words stung Lia, but she pushed onwards. She would eventually find what she was looking for. Whatever that was.

That was the problem with Pilgrimages. Everyone on the Flotilla told her that she would "find herself" out in the galaxy. Then she would return with a gift, and be accepted back into the fleet. Lia wasn't feeling very lucky though. Everything that had happened previously ended badly. Her money had been taken, either by swindlers or muggers. She was lucky enough to survive many accounts of attack through her low level defense training, and simply running away. However, with her money gone, and no place to stay, Lia was out of options. She either needed to get a job soon, or…she didn't want to think about that.

She stepped past a couple of Batarians who watched her come and go. Smirking to themselves, they called out to her.

"Hey! Hey Quarian!"

Lia turned around, ready to run at the first sign of trouble.

"You want a job?"

She couldn't believe her luck. If the Batarian was telling the truth, then she could easily earn some money for surviving. That was only if he was telling the truth…

"Yes. Yes I would."

The Batarian grinned, pointing down the alley.

"It's down there. Last store on the left."

Lia grinned underneath her mask, making her way down the dark alley. Against her better judgment, she listened to the stranger. She couldn't help it. The idea of a job, and the prospects of the benefits of it were too much of a pull.

When she reached the end of the alley, she found no store. Instead she found a body. One of an older woman. She was recently killed, and from her stripper's outfit, not going to be missed. At once, Lia gasped in horror, stepping back further and further. At around the middle of the alley she walked back into something. Turning, she was met with the Batarian, along with a few of his friends. He spoke with a deep raspy voice, as he slowly withdrew a knife from his back pocket.

"Like it? Filthy whores, I say. Human scum. Don't worry about yourself though dear. We won't kill you. Although, I can't quite resist those sweet young hips of yours…"

The other Batarians started to laugh at her shock. Lia felt the adrenaline surge within her, and she looked around desperately for an escape. She thought of calling for help, but before she could, the leader of the gang spoke once more.

"No one's going to come. Go ahead and scream, bitch. Make it even more fun for me and the boys here. You'll just be one more little lost Quarian girl, never to return from her trip."

Lia backed up even further. She brought her fists up to her face. They laughed at her.

"Grab her. I've been waiting for this too long!"

They moved forward, advancing slowly. She couldn't cover them all, even one would be a challenge.

As far as she was concerned, this was the beginning of the end. The Batarians words struck her hard. She would be just another girl. Got lost in the big city, never to be found by her people. Her family would mourn her. Or would they? Rather, would they wait for her to return, always ready to receive her with open arms? Or would they shun her name, assured that their wayward daughter had settled down with a man she found on the trip.

They were moving in closer. Lia would risk it. She would not die a coward. She raised her head high and screamed.

This is NOT going to be another Lyla. REMEMBER THAT.