"What do you mean you're going to the Einstein?" Malcolm watched the steam roll off his coffee, already bored of the exchange; "What happened to retiring and allowing our children - our family - an ordinary life?"

"The SSV Einstein gives us an ordinary life!" Hannah placed her empty coffee mug in the dishwasher, using the action to hide her eye-rolling from Malcolm; "The Brass promised me a promotion within two years if I agreed to the posting, which means more shore time. Eventually."

Malcolm could feel Hannah's excitement sapping his strength. A dull throbbing wormed its way up his neck, gnawing at the base of his skull. 'Retirement' had turned into a constant theme of dispute for them and Malcolm was struggling to ignore the voices in his mind: She cares more about the Alliance than she does about you! He pressed his fists into his temples hoping to stave off the migraine certain to follow.

He had always known she was an Alliance career woman, hell that was half the reason he was so attracted to her in the beginning. Back when he was a solider in the Alliance forces, he had every intention of supporting her as she rose through the ranks. It had also been his dream.

They made their relationship work - meeting up in Vancouver, London, Rio De Janeiro; wherever they could gain a joint posting groundside. The discovery of the Prothean Ruins on Mars followed by the discovery of the Mass Relays meant Joint postings for Army and Navy were frequent, and they spent nearly every deployment together.

But that was back when they were nothing more than Gunnery Chief Hannah and Operations Chief Malcolm. Everything changed for me when Hannah had the twins. Malcolm took a sip of his coffee, cringing at the cooled liquid; obviously not for her.

"The Brass also promised that this posting would keep us all groundside for more than a year," Malcolm pushed his now cold coffee aside. Grabbing a crystal tumbler from the stainless steel serving tray on the dining table and pouring himself a generous amount of whiskey; "and yet here we are at month four. Hannah the kids have only just adjusted to school - what are we supposed to tell them?"

Hannah leaned against the kitchen counter folding her arms over her chest and tilting her head to the side, annoyed; "We tell them that I am being posted to the SSV Einstein. They're kids, Malcolm."

"That is my point, Hannah!" Malcolm put the crystal tumbler down a little too hard, sloshing the whiskey onto the tablecloth, biting back his anger; "They're children. That lifestyle was ok for us, but it's not just us anymore - hasn't been for a while. They need stability!"

How is this still up for discussion?! Malcolm remembered the excitement and terror that bubbled in his gut while butterflies whipped up a storm in his chest when it sank in that he would be a dad; he remembered being in the middle of a combat simulation run when he found out and was so impatient to get to the hospital, that his best friend, Steven Hackett had to drive him; he remembered wearing a hole in the hospital waiting room floor while Hannah was in the operating theatre.

"The Alliance is stable!" Hannah ran a hand through her auburn hair, scratching her scalp as she counted to five before responding; "Look, this post is a fantastic opportunity for me and they will get to experience space life - I'm taking the posting."

Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a defeated sigh as Hannah left the room. The dull throbbing had stretched behind his eyes, pushing sparks into Malcolm's vision. Ever since the first contact war ended, Hannah had been different. At first he attributed it to the stress of the job; that she would settle down and relax into a civilian lifestyle with the children after the war, but she didn't. Work became her priority. Intel on the Turians, Asari, Batarians, Hanar and other races - articles on anatomy, lifespan, space crafts, weaponry, armor, language - littered their study as Hannah poured over the dossiers. Absorbing every piece of information held within the pages.

By the time the twins were old enough to speak, Hannah was almost fluent in the Turian dialect, capable of holding a conversation without a translator though without the distinct flanging effect, Malcolm was always curious how exact her speech was. The memory of Hannah catching Victoria reading the dossier labelled 'Biotics: Asari vs Humans' left a bitter taste in his mouth. If he hadn't walked into the room to see what the yelling was about, he was certain she would've slapped Victoria. Their relationship only grew worse from that point.

He downed the rest of his whiskey, savoring the rich burn against his tongue before swallowing the amber liquid. A small silhouette hiding in the darkness of the living room shifted and Malcolm jumped out of his skin. The soft glow from the moon illuminated Victoria enough to calm Malcolm's heart when he got closer. He inwardly cursed, wondering how long she had been there. Victoria kept her gaze trained on her black and white stripped compression socks, picking at a piece of lint on her nightgown. Her auburn hair still wet from her shower.

"It's ok daddy, I haven't properly unpacked yet."

Malcolm's heart clenched at the realization that she overheard enough. He sat next to Victoria and pulled her into his lap. She handed him a hairbrush and tie then squirmed from his grasp, sitting between his legs with her back facing him. Ignoring everything else, he focused on Victoria recounting her day as he brushed and braided her hair.

oOo

The bedside alarm buzzed to life at 6am. Malcolm tossed the covers aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. With practiced efficiency he switched the alarm to the radio and headed into the bathroom. His razor, shaving cream, toothbrush and toothpaste sitting beside the sink; a clean pair of trousers and a plain red polo shirt hung up behind the bathroom door; a clean pair of socks and boxers sat atop his shoes by the laundry basket. The Alliance News Network reporter droned on about the current events - opinion pieces on the Mass Relays and updates from the colonies and Earth - turned to background noise while Malcolm set about his usual morning routine.

Down the hall he heard a heavy thud followed by a small squeal. Malcolm stilled and listened; He could hear Vance speaking to Victoria but could not make out the words. He tied his laces and made his half of the bed - taking note that Hannah's half looked untouched - grabbed a glass of water from the bathroom and headed towards Victoria's room.

"Come on Victoria we'll be late!" Vance stood off to the side, arms crossed with a scowl on his face, the spitting image of his mother. Victoria knelt on the floor rubbing her backside, still in her nightgown.

"Mum will be back soon to take us to school. She said to be ready!" He grabbed a uniform from her closet and threw it on the bed.

"I'm not going. I feel sick." Victoria lifted herself off the ground and crawled back onto the bed, pulling the covers over her head. Large tears spilled from her bloodshot eyes.

Malcolm ushered his son out the room, promising him that she'd be ready soon and closed the door. He placed the glass of water on the bedside table and closed the blinds, blocking out the strong light from the sun. He listened to Victoria whimper and sob beneath the covers as he grabbed the painkillers from the top drawer of her little vanity table. She emerged from under the covers slowly.

"Good morning kiddo," Malcolm cooed as he handed her a tablet and the glass of water. Waiting as she tried to swallow the tablet, "One more day to get through, ok?"

"Can you stay home with me, or take me to school." Malcolm watched as Victoria put the glass on the bedside table.

"What's wrong?" He pursed his lips together and caressed her cheek, wiping the moisture from her tear stained face. She had been crying for a while.

"Mum hates me," her breathing hitched; her strangled sob carved a hole in Malcolm's heart; "She wants to send me away to Jump Zero!"

Malcolm held her small body close to his chest, stroking her back as he rocked back and forth. Letting her wail into his shirt. He stared at the ceiling and prayed to anyone who would listen to give him strength. Jump Zero, he knew, was the bogeyman. The rumors were different but similarly themed: those who went to Jump Zero were never heard from again. Though he knew better than to believe the rumors, they were still disturbing.

"I see," he mused; "Sweetheart, she won't send you away. I promise. When we move, I will be right there with you no matter what, ok? Time to dry those eyes, we will be late!"

He smirked as he watched Victoria's expression change from utter sorrow to shock. She tried to deter the incoming attack too late. He descending upon her and tickled her, avoiding her failing limbs he smiled as she burst into fits of laughter. He lifted her off the bed, setting her on the floor and pointed her towards the closet.

"Get dressed and wash your face. I will take you to school." He grabbed her backpack and put it on the bed while she dawdled into her bathroom to change. He turned to leave the room when he heard her call back in approval. The door to the room swung open; Hannah marched into the bedroom yelling for Victoria to hurry, the same scowl that Vance wore, now plastered on his wife's features.

Malcolm moved between Hannah and the ensuite door. Folding his arms over his chest and steeling his gaze, anger swam through his veins; "Threatening her with Jump Zero. Really? You've traumatized her - I'll run the kids to school. Just go back to work."

Vance jogged down the hallway, backpack slung over his shoulder waving goodbye as he flung himself down the stairs towards Hannah's skycar.

"I have a panel and an assessment today for the SSV Einstein, and Vance is coming with me. So Victoria is all yours." Hannah turned to look at Malcolm; "We won't be back until late, if not tomorrow."

"Yeah, fine" He nodded, already tired. Just one more day.

oOo

Malcolm sat on a park bench outside the Alliance Systems Science Division HQ; last night's leftover stir-fry sat untouched beside him. The wind tousled his hair, pushing strands into his face which tickled his nostrils. He ran his hand through his hair and inhaled deeply. He loved it in New York. Central Park sat unchanged throughout the centuries - ducks still swam around the man-made lake, birds still flew about the trees high above him and families still came to the great lawn to enjoy a picnic under the clear blue sky. He looked up to admire the skycars and Alliance shuttles flying high above the park, the whining thrum of their cores almost melodic against the beauty of the day, the only place to see two worlds collide. Closing his eyes to enjoy the warm summer sun, he was in awe of Earth. The weather was perfect - not too hot, not too breezy and enough clouds in the sky to cover the sun when the rays became a touch too strong - nothing could compare to the feel of real sunlight kissing his skin, real air -pungent and fragrant at the same time - filling his nose and lungs; the cool wetness of real water, crispness of real leaves - the bone chilling frost of a real New York winter.

A larger man waddled along the pathway, pushing a cart of hotdogs. Malcolm whistled and waved the man over as he grabbed his alliance issued wallet from his pocket, handing him a one dollar note for a roll of bread. He tore the bread into pieces and tossed it towards the ducks, chuckling as they all fought over the bit of bread. Just as the larger duck won the battle he tossed more pieces into the water for the other ducks. He ran out of bread too quickly and leaned back into the bench and crossed his right leg over his left entertaining himself with idle thoughts of the world before the ruins on Mars had been discovered.

The loud ping of the omni-tool pulled Malcolm from his moment of peace; Malcolm released a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. Quickly typing back a reply he pulled the lunchbox onto his lap and picked at his food, nibbling the stir-fried vegetables one at a time.

It had been far too long since Malcolm had spent any time with Steven. It was shameful that there was no correspondence between the two since the twins' birthday party last April. He bit into a strip of beef and quickly shoved a piece of broccoli into his mouth. Taking his annoyance out on the food. Some friend he was; to ignore people for so long and reach out to them without interest or concern for their life.

"Shepard! I was glad to hear from you. You had me worried." Steven Hackett dropped himself onto the bench with all the grace of a drunkard; "I've got news! I've been posted back to Arcturus Station. We will coordinate the colonization efforts from there."

Malcolm smiled at the Staff Commander, listening to Hackett's grand plans for beyond the Sol System. Demeter had been a huge success for humanity and while the process had gone smoothly, there was massive room for improvement. Several other planets had been identified and selected for colonization: Elysium was colonized the previous year and the colony was standing strong despite the pirates and slavers; Mindoir was in the final stages of preparation with colonist applications being accepted from October. It was to become a farming colony on the edge of the Attican Traverse - if they could get it flourishing then the Alliance would hold more of a presence there. Hackett felt that aggressive colonisation was the best chance humanity had to establishing itself on a galactic level.

Hackett produced several light blue files from his briefcase, fat with thick booklets; colonist dossiers for Mindoir. Malcolm stared at Hackett his mouth open in surprise. Shrugging, Hackett explained that it was far easier to get paper dossiers out of Alliance HQ than it was to log into the extranet from here. Since Malcolm was as formidable with intelligence gathering as he was with any weapon, he would make the short-listing process much easier. Malcolm flicked his omni-tool to private and grabbed a dossier from Hackett; settling into the park bench as he flipped open the booklet: Baxter, Jamieson A; Mechanic.

The sun had slipped down the horizon, faint streaks of pink ran across the pale blue sky. The light coming from the sun was almost painful. As if they read each other's mind both Hackett and Malcolm pulled a pair of Alliance issued sunglasses from their pocket and slid them over their eyes. They had gone through almost two hundred dossiers, ruling out over half of them. If they didn't have a criminal record, they were unsuitable for the colony. Malcolm had noticed quite a few dossiers showcasing minors; he tossed them aside without looking. Colonization was hard enough without having to deal with know it all teenagers.

Malcolm looked over at Hackett who was reading someone's background and history, then turned back to the abstract on Mindoir. The more he read about the colony, the more he understood the potential. Reading over the notes and plans excited him in a way that little else had in years.

"Steven, I need a favour."

oOo

Malcolm had spent most of his afternoon with Hackett, helping him short-list potential candidates for the Mindoir colony until the New York Academy got through to his private line - Vance had been in a fight.

The administration building sat in the centre of the school campus, towering over the other buildings. Perfectly manicured garden beds with red, yellow and white roses; rainbow chrysanthemums; Daylily's and other flowers lined the smooth stone pathway. While nice, the floral scents were overpowering. Malcolm crinkled his nose and pushed forward faster. Without looking up from her work the receptionist welcomed him and waved towards a holo-form. Her omni-tool barely blipped when she flicked it open, rapidly tapped a response and turned her attention to Malcolm, flashing him a gleaming white smile as she delivered the news: "The principal will see you now."

Malcolm was a scared 10-year-old again. The hallway between the receptionist and the principals office felt too long - made worse by the worn beige carpets that melded into the worn beige walls and holo-frames with the mug shot of all faculty heads at eye level. Office workers strode past him busy with her own work, he knew, but he couldn't shake the feeling that their eyes were on him. The air smelled of discipline and printer toner with a hint of broken dreams. He fastened the button on his blazer and rolled his shoulders back to square off his posture.

The closed door to the principals office stood tall and imposing. Taking a few deep breaths he shook his omni-tool to life and swiped the datapad tracker on the wall to signal his arrival. The door whooshed open revealing an all too familiar scene. with their backs turned to him, Victoria sat on Vance's left watching her shoes as she swung her feet beneath her chair, she held Vance's hand as he sat straight in his chair, his clothes looking ruffled and another boy sat awkwardly in his chair to the right. Sitting more on his right side, hunched over with a compress on his lap. Malcolm caught himself doing a double take; the other boy looked older. The principal sat behind his desk, hands folded together in front of him with a deadpan look on his face, his face mirroring Malcolm's emotions towards the entire affair.

A woman clearing her throat drew Malcolm's attention to her. She was older - crows feet and bunny lines extended from the corners of her eyes, her eyebrows and forehead creased into a frown; heavy make up that was a shade too orange and a little large for her frame but not entirely unattractive. Malcolm offered a half hearted smile but let it slip from his lips when she glared daggers at him, crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to the side. Annoyed that she had to wait.

He walked over to the children and rested his hands on his kids' shoulders, leaning into them a little to let them know he had arrived. Victoria craned her neck to look up at him, giving a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. When he cocked his eyebrow at her she returned to staring at her shoes. Vance didn't even bother to acknowledge him. The principal leaned back into his chair and buttoned up his blazer; straining the button as he leaned back into his desk. The woman walked over to the group and placed her hands protectively on her sons shoulders, and Malcolm swallowed a chuckle when he shrugged her away.

A myriad of scenarios whipped through his head like a storm - Vance had a black eye, bloody nose and was covered in dirt. The principal flatly asked why they were in his office and, without hesitation the boy launched into a rendition of the fight, blaming Vance for his reddened cheek and split lip. Malcolm rolled his eyes when the mother chimed in - her voice sharp and shrill; enough to make one's ears bleed - demanding that Vance be suspended and threatened to take the incident to a media outlet if he wasn't. The chime of his omni-tool drew Malcolm's attention from the meeting as he opened the offending program - a message from Hackett with several attachments ready to download.

Reflagging the message as unread; he waved the program closed and stuck his right index finger into his right ear, wiggling it rapidly as he waited for her to finish ranting; she was red in the face and sucking in her breaths carefully. He turned his attention to Vance and gently squeezed his shoulder while asking for his input on the situation. Vance kept his gaze trained forward, staring behind the principal. His grip on Victoria's hand tightened as he spoke: "He hurt Victoria." He watched Victoria shy away from the comment as though it had burned her. Vance stared at the boy, anger smeared across his face as he emphasised each word "You. Hurt. Her!"

Vance caught Victoria's face in his grasp and wrenched it upwards towards Malcolm. She winced from the movement. An angry red graze full of dirt marred her right cheek. Vance released her and grabbed her right forearm and tugged her sleeve up to show another graze stretching from the heel of her palm, up her wrist and along a part of her forearm and elbow.
Malcolm knelt beside Victoria and she refused to look at him. Sadness tore through him as a well of mixed and unnamed emotions ravaged his heart; was she ashamed? Another purpling bruise caught his attention, and he knew without checking what it looked like. But he needed to. He had to see it with his own eyes. Carefully, affording her as much modesty as he could, he pushed her skirt up her leg. The graze ran up her thigh, blood freckled the graze from where the skin was torn.

The room fell silent. Malcolm leaned his hand against his knee and clamped his free hand over his mouth, pinching his cheekbones beneath his thumb and forefinger; eyes forward but unseeing. The woman opened and closed her mouth repeatedly and somewhere in the far reaches of Malcolm's mind he imagined her face on the body of a trout. The principal rested his elbows on his desk and pressed the hell of his palms into his eyes.

Malcolm held the Principals gaze. Anger burned within his stomach, guilt ate at his conscience yet he felt calm; "So you wish to know if I will press charges for my daughters assault?"

The woman balked at the comment and the group sat in an awkward silent while the principal buzzed for his PA to join them in the room. No one moved or uttered a word as they waited. The tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. The whoosh of the door eased the tension slightly as the PA strode confidently into the room. A silent order in the form of a nod prompted the PA to usher the children out of the room. Malcolm's legs were as heavy as cement by the time he heard the whoosh of the door closing and the low hiss and whine of the lock sealing them in the room. He regained himself long enough to move to the seat Vance had occupied and sat down ready and eager to hear their explanations.

oOo

'Kids will be kids.'

That was the best excuse they offered. As soon as they were alone, the woman had burst into tears. Loud, obnoxious, heavy, messy sobs. Malcolm was gob smacked; unsure if she was crying or if it was one very impressive act to regain control of the situation. Through her blubbering and lip quivering she claimed that her son - Chris Toombs - was not a bad kid. He wouldn't hurt a fly let alone a young girl. She had raised him to be better than that. Malcolm bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a scoff; the state of his daughter proved otherwise. They had been so ready to suspend Vance for punching Toombs that they were surprised when Malcolm expected them to punish the other boy.

Vance and Victoria sat in the back of the skycar as Malcolm drove home. Vance rested his chin in his hand as he stared out the window. His other hand splayed across the middle seat. Victoria read on her datapad, scrolling to change the page. Her fingers ghosting over Vance's fingertips. Through the rear view mirror he could see that Vance's left eye was already swelling and bruising. Malcolm spent the ride home rehearsing his speech: I understand that you were defending your sister, but we don't punch people because they make us angry. Violence should never be our first response!

But it had been our first response. Instead of trying to broker understanding, we destroyed Turian vessels and sparked the First Contact War.

Malcolm had barely touched the skycar down when Vance released the hatch and jumped free of the car. All but running inside, flinging the door open and hurling himself into the house. Victoria clutched her bag to her chest and scooted across the back seat, shoving her small hand into Malcolm's when she was free of the vehicle. They walked hand in hand towards the open door when a second skycar landed in their carport, hovering for barely a second before dropping onto the ground. Malcolm winced at the crunch and groan of the skycar.

"Where is he?" Hannah barreled out of the car and marched inside, not even waiting for an answer.

Victoria looked up at Malcolm and let her hand drop from his grip and trudged inside. Malcolm closed the door behind him and toed off his shoes before heading to Vance's room, standing by his door. A small suitcase sat on his bed. Hannah removed clothes from their hanger, folded them and placed them into the suitcase. She was careful and meticulous as she packed his things. Vance stood by the mirror in his room and gingerly poked his eye before placing a bag of frozen peas over his swollen eye. He walked past Malcolm and grabbed another small suitcase from the hallway closet and carried it into Victoria's room while she came out to hand him a piece of paper and a datapad before returning to her room to pack.

The Alliance logo was embossed into the paper. At the top of the page, front and centre, in giant letters: Arcturus Station Department of Colonial Affairs.

21 May 2163

CLASSIFIED

RE: ADVANCED TRAINING ACADEMY FOR JUVENILES

LT Shepard,

Enrolment into Alliance ATAJ intakes 2163-07-SVM/ARCSDIV and 2163-07-SVF/ARCSDIV have been approved. Posting onto SSV Einstein acknowledged and pre-vacation documents prepared for departure dated June 15, 2163.

SSV Einstein docks at Arcturus station. You are to report to hanger F-37 at 0600 to Admiral Kastanie Drescher on June 16. A 3 bedroom property in the Aurora District will be ready for your arrival - Corporal Declan Blake will coordinate your orientation of the station.

If you need further help, please notify Corporal Declan Blake within the Arcturus Station Department of Colonial Affairs.

Regards,

Meredith Reizer
Staff Officer
Department Colonial Affairs, Arcturus Station.

Malcolm felt his heart slide up into his throat as he turned on the datapad. Info streams of cleaning services contacts, pre-vacation checklists, non-classified deployment details and various other topics lit up on the screen. He quickly flicked the datapad off again and dropped himself against the wall. Hannah was a stubborn woman. When she decided on something, there was no changing her mind; he knew. He knew the move was coming, but he wasn't prepared for it to be so soon. Anger bubbled in his stomach and ice seeped into his veins. He barely heard himself tell Vance to help his sister pack as he gently palmed him out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He didn't know what he wanted to say to Hannah as a wave of fatigue crashed into him. She hadn't mentioned the posting was for next month. She hadn't mentioned to him that she was enrolling the kids into the Alliance Academy. She never mentioned that this posting took them to a space station - he assumed it would only take her away for deployment. So what has she told me about this posting? Malcolm furled and unfurled his fists in time with each deep breath to placate himself.

With a clearer mind, he reminded himself that Arcturus station was where Steven was being posted to manage the colonisation efforts. This could be a blessing in disguise. He looked up at Hannah who had finished packing Vance's closet and moved onto his drawers. There was no plan yet but Malcolm knew that how he acted in this moment, would make the future easier. Instead of starting a fight, he walked over to Hannah and gently took her hand in his, letting a small smile tug at his lips. Her hard grimace softened at the contact. Returning a pair of socks to the drawer, Hannah allowed herself to turn and face Malcolm. She knew that she had started the move without speaking with him first, but he didn't seem to understand anymore what this meant for her and for her career. When she saw him in the driveway earlier, she had deliberately been short with him and avoided eye contact to prevent the inevitable war of words that would follow when he learned about the move.

But it never came. Hannah heard the door close behind her and she had attempted to keep busy with packing. She had hoped if she seemed busy, he would leave her alone. Malcolm had taken several deep breaths that were far too loud for her liking - he was angry - but here he was, smiling at her; asking her to let him handle the kids' school withdrawal papers and that he would bring the children up to the station once everything was arranged. Vance, eavesdropping from outside, burst into the room begging to go to Arcturus station early while Victoria pleaded to stay behind with Malcolm.

"If your mother is ok with it Vance you can go," Malcolm turned to Hannah, checking her opinion; a brief nod gave him the answer; "Tori, you can stay with me."

oOo

Arcturus Station had nothing on Earth, but it was still damn impressive. The air smelled like spring - crisp and fresh; the trees swayed along to the wind, and the view of the station docks from the central hub was breath-taking. While he missed Earth terribly, he had also missed the sight of deep space. It had been six months since he and Victoria arrived on the station and something was very different already. The SSV Einstein had already been deployed by the time he arrived. Hannah assured him that it was a short voyage and she would return within the month - three months ago. Vance had found his true calling within the Academy and was moving swiftly through the training modules. The instructors were excited to explore his potential; gushing over his clear affinity for combat and infiltration tactics. Unlike Vance, Victoria elected to attend a standard school. While Vance spent all of his time in combat simulators and practical application classes, Victoria stayed within the library and classrooms.

Malcolm watched the SSV Hastings creep towards the station to dock. The frigate shuddered as the gangway attached to the starboard airlock. Pushing off the railing, he strode towards the Aurora District enjoying the twilight cycle. Stuffing his hands into his pockets he stopped to admire the station ceiling turn translucent, allowing the stars to shine and twinkle brightly. Soft chiming alerted everyone that the station's VI was about to advise that the night cycle was beginning. As if on cue, Malcolm spotted Steven and Victoria walking down a side passage that linked to the Aurora District bridge. By some miracle they had secure the condo next to Steven which had eased Malcolm's mind when the Academy kept the students back later. More often than not, he relied on Steven to escort his children home.

Victoria jogged over to Malcolm and threw herself at him. He caught her with ease, lifting her up and swinging her around. It had become their custom since moving to the station. Setting Victoria down again, he shook Steven's hand in thanks. Noting that Vance was not with them. The two men walked back towards the condo in a comfortable silence, listening to Victoria talk about her day of classes. She had been taken with Earth's history, finding it difficult to accept that Space travel used to be impossible - the biggest challenge being to travel across the sea at one point. Steven then admitted that his grandfather used to tell him stories about a time before omni-tools, when they used to have to use a 'mobile phone'.

By the time the trio reached the condo, Victoria and Steven were in their own world. Victoria convinced that Steven was making everything up and Steven finding her reactions to 'old world technology' hilarious. Steven promised her that it was all real, going into his condo to grab proof. Victoria flung her bag off to the side and skipped into her bedroom ignoring Vance who was already inside playing the First Contact video game, claiming it was homework. Malcolm toed off his shoes and scooped Victoria's bag off of the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. Vance was in a loadout screen, flicking through the different assault rifles, settling on the Gorgon Assault Rifle before moving onto the pistols.

"The Gorgon isn't a standard issue Assault Rifle Vance, choose one you are likely to use." Steven stated in his no nonsense tone as he closed the door behind him and called for Victoria. She strolled back down the hallway in casual clothing, eyes glued to her datapad. He handed her a few ancient photo albums containing the proof he had mentioned after she'd reclaimed her backpack and she excitedly ran back to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

"You know you'll never get those back, right?" Malcolm pointed out as they headed into the kitchen. Steven shrugged out of his alliance blazer draping it over the back of the chair while Malcolm grabbed two beers from the fridge, handing one to Steven. They both smacked the neck of the bottle against the counter at just the right angle to hit the lid off and not break the bottle. Clinking the bottles against each other in a toast then downing the liquid, Malcolm hissed in appreciation.

The rat-tat-tat of an assault rifle signaled that Vance's game had started. The two listened to Vance yelling orders to his team mates via the in game communicator - directing the sniper's shots, commanding the infiltrators and soldiers into place to protect their site. Malcolm had to admit that Vance sounded confident in himself. The console in the kitchen and his omni-tool lit up and chimed rapidly; a hail from Hannah. Malcolm abandoned his beer on the counter to accept the hail.

"Malcolm!" A tiny hologram of Hannah appeared above the omni-tool projector.

"Hey Hannah," Malcolm held his arm out straight so the hologram was facing both himself and Steven; "Hackett is here."

Hannah snapped off a perfect salute holding the pose until Steven waved her free with the comment 'I'm not in uniform'. She relaxed; "Sorry I've not made contact sooner, it's been so busy here and I don't have a lot of time."

Malcolm brought his arm back in so he could see her, walking deeper into the kitchen; "Do you have time to say hi to the kids? I can grab them..."

"No Mal, I don't." Hannah cut him off and looked over at someone beyond the hologram; "I just called to say that our deployment has been extended for at least another four months, I may won't be home for the kids' birthday."

"Four months?!" Malcolm almost choked on his tongue; "That means you've been gone all year! You can't..."

"Sorry, I have to go." Hannah nodded curtly at him, ending the transmission.

Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose pressing into his tear ducts to release the pressure building behind his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steven took another swig of his beer, feigning disinterest but still concerned for his friend.

Malcolm walked back over to the counter and drank the rest of his beer in a single breath. He dropped the bottle in the bin and pulled another two bottles from the fridge. He wanted to talk about it but what could he say? Steven took the bottle of beer on offer and placed it beside his current drink, watching Malcolm carefully as he cracked his beer open. Steven knew Malcolm well enough know that Malcolm needed time to organize his thoughts.

"I'm overreacting." Malcolm played with the label on his beer.

"What makes you say that?" Steven kept his voice calm and even. He took another drink of beer and smacked his lips.

"Deployment is part of the job. Mission parameters change - she can't help that." Steven watched as Malcolm paced the length of the kitchen, leaving his beer aside; "Tori and I arrived six months ago. Six months! she had already been on deployment for two months and now she is saying she will be gone for another four - minimum! Where was Vance for those two months?"

"At the Academy." Steven stated carefully.

"At the Academy!" Malcolm reiterated his statement. He dragged a hand through his hair pausing for the briefest of moments; "She left him alone for two months. It's a wonder he comes home at all anymore."

"Why wouldn't he come home?" Steven poked his head out of the kitchen to scan the hallway for prying ears. Satisfied that they were alone he grabbed two glasses to fill with water; stepping around Malcolm's furious pacing.

"The Alliance is more of a family to him than anything he has with us." Malcolm accepted the glass from Steven, holding onto the glass as though it was a lifeline; "Ever since we arrived, he has spent more and more time at the academy. Sometimes I feel like he only comes home for Tori."

"Have you spoken to Hannah about your concerns?"

"Multiple times before moving here, though they fell on deaf ears," Malcolm put his glass on the counter and leaned against it. His shoulders dropped, and he felt exhausted; "Victoria already thinks Hannah hates her; I can't do this anymore."

Steven sighed heavily and waved his omni-tool to life. Pulling up several programs, he flicked through each one until he found what he was looking for and scanned it across to Malcolm. Without waiting for it to hit Malcolm's omni-tool, Steven opened the documents in projection mode. A small planet hovered above Steven's omni-tool, information points blinked within the projected planet's core.

"The favor you asked for before we left Earth..." Steve tapped one of the blinking points, magnifying the spot to show a small colony - a small village with plenty of farmland but nothing amazing; "This is Mindoir. A small farming colony on the outskirts of the Attican Traverse. Nothing fancy as you can see, but it will offer a good life."

"It's beautiful..." Malcolm transferred the image to his omni-tool, admiring the small village. The homes were humble though he could see there was space between the homes - privacy and a yard. There were no giant sprawls, no heavy Alliance presence, plenty of food and water, though he noted the fortifications needed work; "It's perfect!"

"It will be," Steven agreed; "If I help you get there, I will need something in return - something that will be difficult for you to accept."

Malcolm closed off his omni-tool and braced himself for the request. Would Steven want him to turn over his omni-tool? Renounce his military rights or privileges and be a true civilian? Return all his weaponry?

"I need you to leave Vance in my care."

Steven gripped his beer and waited for Malcolm to process the request. Malcolm released a breath he didn't even realise he had been holding. His plan was to give his children a real life; a life away from the Alliance. It didn't work if he couldn't take both of his children.

"Hannah has already given her approval. Vance is incredible," Steven justified himself by sending Vance's data over to Malcolm; "his readouts during combat exercises are far beyond his peers. His aptitude for reconnaissance and theoretical infiltration are - well, see for yourself."

He wasn't lying; Vance's psychological profile showed that he was very mature for his age; his abilities sat far above the rest of his classmates. Results from exams, assessments and live trials all showed that Vance understood combat tactics that should be far beyond him. Then Malcolm caught Steven's comment; "Hannah has already given her OK?"

"ATAJ wanted custody since he will be boarding at the school. Hannah wanted me to be in charge of him. Vance has a lot of potential and I'd hate to see it go to waste over short sightedness and poor decisions from the wrong chain of command."

It made sense. Vance belonged in this world, he always had. Having Steven in charge of him while they were on Arcturus station meant that he and Hannah weren't cut out of his life. Hannah could stay on deployment without concern and Malcolm could raise Victoria planetside. But leaving Vance behind meant the chance of seeing him again were slim. Though, Malcolm rationalised, it's not forever. I will see him again after his training.

Steven didn't bother to wait for a response. He peeled himself off the barstool groaning as several joints clicked and popped from the shift. Ignoring the empty beer bottle on the counter he wandered into Victoria's room to collect his photo albums, leaving Malcolm alone in the kitchen. He could hear the rat-tat-tat of Vance's game still going strong in the living room. Heading in to investigate he found Vance concentrating on his game. One of his teammates had fallen during the battle leaving him with two soldiers to help hold their position. According to the mission log on his HUD, Vance and his team had lost 8% of the civilians they had to protect - an amazing effort, given the circumstances. They were pinned down in the colony by a Turian sniper and their rations were running low.

Malcolm moved to sit on the couch behind Vance. He remembered the Shanxi occupation and liberation too well. General Williams' decision to surrender the colony still hurt. If he had just held out for a little longer...

Vance's character - the Commander of the Shanxi garrison - zig zagged through the streets, running as fast as he could; leaping over rubble and debris, making his way towards the mission marker. One of his squad mates was running ahead on his right flank, gunning down a group of enemies hiding behind broken buildings. He clubbed an enemy in the face with the butt of his gun as he pushed on towards the goal. Vance sprinted down a corridor and jumped to the base of a stairwell, ignoring the Turians shooting at him from off screen. He opened the door with a quicktime event triggering a cutscene. Malcolm took the controller to pause the game while Vance removed gaming gloves, boots and headpiece.

"Vance, come chat with me." Malcolm patted the empty couch seat.