Author's Note: I like to keep the descriptive details of Ryder to a minimum so the reader can envision their own Ryder in the story. Also, thanks goes to nugicorn from Aria's Afterlife forum for the title suggestion. This store is complete and will be posted chapter by chapter.

Scott Ryder and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good Very Bad Day

~A Mass Effect Andromeda story by SpaceCowboy~

1.

Scott Ryder woke in his bed on the Tempest tangled in damp bed sheets, limbs trembling, heart racing. "Damn it. Not again." Tiny spasms prickled his electrolyte-depleted muscles as he pushed off the covers and swung his feet to the floor. When he stood, shaky legs buckled beneath him, his elbow banging on the nightstand table as he met the floor with a crash.

Using the bed for support he pushed back to his feet. The mattress gave way under his weight and he met the floor again. Adding another bruise to his elbow in the process. "Damn biotics. The doc better not see me like this. She'll have my ass for over extending again."

His third attempt got him standing. But he was dizzy and fighting back rising bile as he shuffled to his cabin door. He managed to make it without throwing up, swept a hand over the door sensor and stumbled into the lower deck.

A few more steps to the mess. He'd duck in, drink a bottle or two of cyto-greens and be back to his normal self in no time. No one would be the wiser to his situation. Clearing pockets of remaining kett wore his biotics down. But exhausted or not, when you found yourself surrounded by assailants, punching down a nova or two saved lives.

When he turned into the mess, he bumped into Gil.

"Whoa there," said Gil.

Ryder nudged past the engineer toward the refrigerator. Please, let me get something in me first.

"Again, Ryder?" drawled Gil. "Lexi'll kill you if she finds out you're running cold again."

Ryder popped the top off a bottle of bio-juice and downed half a litre before taking a breath. "Then let's not tell her." He forced more juice down his throat and dropped onto the bench surrounding the table.

The cytogenics of the green juice equalized his electrolytes. His limbs stopped trembling. But he still felt like a man tackled by a krogan.

Gil sat on the other end of the bench. "I hear that stuff tastes like shite."

Ryder leaned into the fridge and grabbed another bottle. "It does. But hey, what's a biotic to do?"

"Use their guns more often?"

You battle broken pipes and misaligned conduits! What do you know about fifteen kett charging from a building while drop ships surround you? "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

"Would you look at that, I gave the Pathfinder advice. So maybe now you can do me a solid…"

The list of today's tasks flooded Ryder's mind, making him weary of Gil's next words. He dropped his head with a sigh. "What is it you want, Gil?"

"T-8…"

…Eos needs a sweep of the western ridge where the damn kett built a recent stronghold. Bradley wants an escort for a survey team. Trouble's brewing, again, on Kadara. I feel like crap…

"… we'd have trouble without… can't…"

Drack won't like his assignment. Hope he's in a good mood. I'll owe him for this. And this juice does taste like shite…

"It's a small part, but it's important."

Startled by the sudden silence, Ryder turned to Gil. "What?"

"T-8 manifold."

"Oh, yeah, sure. No problem. Where did you say…?"

Gil stood with a chuckle. "Drink more of that bio-juice, pal. You're still a bit off. I said Kadara Port. Vetra knows where to find it." He left the mess chuckling, leaving Ryder alone to tip his head back and stare at the ceiling.

After refuelling his body with another bottle of cyto-greens, he used Kallo's hot water work-around in the shower where he managed to linger too long. His fingertips were wrinkled by the time he exited. He dressed in his uniform then plunked into the chair at his desk. Now late for morning briefing, and tired from the extended shower, his eyes glazed over as he read the long list of new emails that had arrived since before going to sleep. "SAM, organize what I assume are requests for my immediate attention into some sort of agenda and send it to my omni-tool," he said then shut the computer down.

"There is a lot on your plate, Scott."

"Colloquialism," chuckled Ryder. "And you got this one right."

"Liam has been teaching me."

"This should be interesting," murmured Ryder.

Legs still shaky from yesterday's workout with the kett, he decided to grab a coffee from the mess on his way to the conference room. The coffee machine sputtered a cold grainy liquid into his mug, but Ryder didn't have time to fix it or call in Gil to do the job right. Ice coffee had fallen from favour in the early twenty-second century. But he took it anyway since caffeine was caffeine.

He chose the long way through engineering to avoid any mishaps with the ladder, passing Vetra on the way. "You're with me today. We're going to Kadara."

Vetra joined him on the lift. "Before or after the meeting with Tann on the Nexus?"

Ryder's shoulder neck muscles pulled tight. "Damn, I forgot about that."

When the lift stopped, Vetra moved aside. Ryder exited first wherein two eyes bored into the back of his head. "What?" he asked.

"You seem tense, that's all."

"As always, there's too much to do today."

Ryder moved through the decks on autopilot, unaware if Vetra kept talking. At the ramp to the upper lever he stopped when he heard the voices of his crew arguing upstairs in the conference room. Every time more than three members of his crew were in close proximity to each other, the hair on the back of Ryder's neck stood on end. Too many differing opinions converged on this ship, and it was Ryder's job to quell the arguments and tame the participants.

Vetra patted his shoulder as she passed him. "Sounds like everyday."

After sipping his cold coffee he trudged up the ramp, each footfall feeling more leaden than the last, and entered the conference room with heavy shoulders. His presence unnoticed at first, he cleared his throat. When that didn't elicit their attention, he drew a deep breath and shouted, "Quiet! We have a long day and I want to get things started."

The arguing hushed. And a quick scan of the room told him everyone was present, but it was Drack's hulking mass his gaze lingered on. He really was going to hate his assignment.

Body yearning to sit on one of the couches, but opting to stand to project command, Ryder finished off his coffee. He grimaced as the cold liquid slid down his throat and gurgled in his gut.

"So what's on the agenda?" quipped PeeBee, plopping onto one of the couches. "Is it gonna be a travelling day? I hate travelling days. Please tell me it's not a travelling day. They're so boring."

Peebee's chipper voice rang sharp in Ryder's head. He enjoyed watching her lithe body lounging on the couch, and her cheeriness usually brightened his mood. But this morning her voice needed taming.

"Yes and no," he said. "Kadara first. Vetra and I have business to attend with Reyes. The rest of you will go on to Eos. Cora and Liam, meet with Bradley, he's got the details. You'll be fighting kett, so prepare yourselves."

"Sounds like fun," stated Drack. "I'm always up for some kett killin'."

Ryder swallowed. "Sorry Drack, I need you out in the badlands. Christmas wants a team sweeping a vault for remnant relics and needs an escort."

"You mean babysitting," grumbled Drack. "Why me? I'm better suited for killing kett… or killing anything."

"That's your assignment, Drack."

The krogan pounded his chest. "I didn't sign up for babysitting!"

Ryder sighed. Lexi had asked him to watch out for the old krogan. So when he had the chance to give him the easy assignment, he promised her he would. But Lexi wasn't the one who had to deal with the backlash.

He hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Take Jaal with you. It'll make it more fun. You two always find trouble."

"What about me?" asked Peebee.

"Tann wants a report on the remnant technology we've collected. And since you're our expert, you get to write it. We'll be heading to the Nexus tonight so have it done." Ryder looked into his empty mug wishing hot coffee waited for him. When he glanced back at Peebee, her mouth had twisted into a frown. "And no complaining. I'm not in the mood."

Ryder tilted his head back and spoke, invoking the intercom system. "Kallo, set a course for Kadara."

He left his crew grumbling in the conference room without further instructions. "SAM, send emails to everyone with their tasks and mission details."

"Yes, Pathfinder."

"And if any more emails come in for me, file them away for later and don't tell me about them."

Ryder lumbered through the vacant decks of the ship toward the helm where the eager faces of Kallo and Suvi greeted him. Unable to conjure more than a grunt in their direction, he entered the airlock anti-chamber and hunkered down on the bench. With time to spare until their arrival at Kadara, Ryder let his head fall back against the wall and let the sounds of the Tempest soothe his mind. The hiss of a million computer systems at work, the hum of engines throttling the ship through space, it was all white noise to Ryder. He quickly lost himself in the static until he remembered his equipment still needed checking.

Grunting, he dragged himself from blissful peace and quiet into the real world and got to work. By the time he'd reassembled his chest piece, his fingers no longer fumbled with clasps and his mind was more alert. But the sound of the door whooshing open startled him and he dropped his helmet. It clanked on the metal floor.

"Are we really going to see Reyes just to buy a T-8 manifold?" asked Vetra.

"What? No. Who told you that?"

Vetra ticked her head toward the main body of the ship. "I just spoke with Gil. He said, you said, we're going to Kadara port to get him his manifold."

Ryder stood and tossed his helmet on the bench. He opened the weapon's locker and scanned his sniper rifles. "Yes, we're getting him his manifold. But no, not from Reyes. He needs help with something. And as thanks for letting the Initiative set up a colony, Addison generously volunteered me to help him."

Vetra moaned. "And you generously volunteered me to help you."

"Hm, hadn't thought of it like that."

Ryder plucked his viper from its hold and placed it on the bench. Turning back to the locker for a pistol, he sighed. "But regardless, you're coming with me. I have a feeling Reyes wants us to do something… sceptically moral, and I want you by my side."

"Because you think I've got questionable morals?"

Foot in mouth. His temples throbbed.

Carnifex dangling in his hand, Ryder turned to her. "That's not what I mean. I just want someone with me who's good with a gun in case things go south. Which they will if Reyes has anything to do with it."

"Oh, sorry."

Ryder went to her. "Just be ready to go when we get there. I kind of want to be alone right now." He nudged her back, closed the door and went back to his equipment.

A niggling in his gut bothered him, and he knew it was from being rude to Vetra. Not wanting to consider his recent conduct, his mind filled with memories of waking in Andromeda. Adventure and optimism permeated the air. Habitat 7 waited to be explored…

Yeah, that day sucked too.

His father had died. The role of Pathfinder was thrust upon him and the galaxy was held hostage by a scourge. Ryder reconsidered his optimism that day, especially at taking on his father's position. Some days, there were too many raids. Too many meetings, and too many people thinking that as the Pathfinder he was at their disposal.

He scrubbed his tired eyes and let his hands fall into his lap. Sleep pleaded he lie down. But his equipment needed checking before they arrived at Kadara.

"Just twenty minutes," he said, letting his eyes close.

"Twenty minutes of what, Pathfinder?"

"Twenty minutes of sleep, SAM."

"I will wake you, Pathfinder."

Ryder closed his eyes. "Thanks."

Ryder dreamt of kett chasing him through endless canyons. Outlaws gunning him down from every direction and emails flooding his omni-tool. He woke with a jerk at SAM's alert, heart racing like he'd run a marathon.

"How close are we to Kadara?"

SAM's voice came over the intercom. "Kallo is nearing his descent. I have alerted Vetra. She states she will be here shortly."

"Good."

Noticing his equipment still scattered and unchecked on the floor, he rushed to dress. As he fixed his sniper to the slot on his back the door whooshed open.

"Good to go?" asked Vetra, stepping into the airlock anti-chamber.

Vetra always had things to do, places to go and people to meet, yet she never had a strap or scarf out of place. Ryder slung his carnifex into its armour slot with jealous vigour. "Yeah."

They entered the airlock to await touchdown. Ryder ran a hand down his face and looked at the floor. "Reyes wants to meet at Tartarus. I'll go while you get that part Gil wants. He said you'd know where to find it. Then meet me with Reyes."

Eyes narrowed as she stared back at him, she drawled, "Sure thing."

"What is it?"

"You know, I can go see what Reyes wants and report back to you? Maybe it's something that doesn't need your personal attention."

"Why do you say that?"

If Vetra had eyebrows, they would have reached her hairline, if she had one of those as well. "Cause you look like shit, Ryder."

Ryder smiled. "Don't I know it."

"We'll get the part later," Vetra said, patting his arm. "I'll go with you to see Reyes."

The Tempest jolted to a stop, knocking Ryder into Vetra, and them both to the deck.

Ryder pushed himself up. "What the hell was that?"

"Sorry about the rough landing," Kallo called over the intercom. "I… I don't know what happened."

"I said I needed that T-8 manifold!" Gil's voice shouted back.

"You could have told me that before I made my landing!" replied Kallo.

"Oh, the high and mighty Kallo doesn't…"

Ryder frowned. "Is it too late to return to the Milky Way?"

…to be continued…