Shepard was in a bind.

All of his closest friends were urging him to join the Alliance, but he had no intention to do so. Why should he? All that's out there to his understanding was rocks, dust, and a massive lack of oxygen. Sure, there were batarians, but those were pretty common out here in the Terminus Systems. He sighed. If there's nothing to see, then I'm staying right here.

Returning to his lunch-a turkey and cheese sandwich-he couldn't help but hear a low rumbling. Looking around, nothing immediately looked like it could be making such a noise, so Shepard decided it must be an incoming ship.

He looked up and discovered he was partially right in his guess: There was a ship, and it was technically incoming, but it wasn't a human ship, or batarian for that matter, and was falling from the sky at an alarming rate-even granted it wasn't very large, fast nearly always meant hard.

In a panic, he got up and began to yell at everyone to get away. He'd seen once before what kind of damage a crash-landing could do, and it wasn't pretty. As the massive, out-of-control ball of circuits and metal spiraled downward, everyone was at minimum safe distance but Shepard himself, who had just started running.

But not fast enough.

The meteor of seared metal and roaring engines smashed against a nearby building. The sheer force of the impact was enough to cave the house in on itself, before the resulting blast propelled the thing apart. Shepard fell to his back, watching in horror as burning rubble and arcing shrapnel flew in all directions, spreading the damage like wildfire; crushing kiosks and small structures or ripping holes into the ground and destroying vehicles all around.

Then it was over. The town square he once thought so much of was now little more than ruins. He wasn't prepared for something like this, no one could be. So he simply crumpled, his mind completely shattered by the event that just occurred. He heard people flock around the site, muttering swears as infants and other small children wept. The roaring flame, crying children, and terror-ridden whispering were the last things Shepard heard before blacking out.

/-/

When he next awoke, Shepard was at the clinic. He heard a television, news of the crash playing from the speakers. Looking over, the footage that the program was running was showing real-time what had happened. Huh, he thought. It seemed like longer than two minutes…

An orderly walked in, noticing that Shepard was conscious. "You've been out for some time, Mr. Shepard."

"How long?" he asked.

"About two hours," the medic replied. "You'll be happy to know that you're not going to die."

"Well, I guess that counts as good news."

"However…"

Damn…

"…Your mind's still a bit shaken by the experience, so you may be here a while longer. In the meantime, we're short on rooms because of…" he gestured to the news network, "Yeah. So, you'll be sharing your room while you're here."

"I don't mind."

"You may when you learn who you're sharing with." He stepped out of the way of an incoming gurney, which held a patient that must have had some serious allergy issues: she was dressed head-to-toe in an environmental suit. "The pilot of that ship; we're lucky her suit didn't rupture."

"Why so?" Shepard asked. "Wouldn't the suit make it more difficult to see if she's okay?"

"Normally, you'd be correct. However, you have to keep in mind: Quarians wear those suits for a reason."

"Sorry, I don't remember hearing much about quarians."

"Then I'll excuse your surprise." The doctor cleared his throat, "There isn't actually a lot to be heard about quarians: they're a dextro-amino acid-based species, so they can't eat human food."

"Like turians, right?"

"Right. They were kicked off their home world by the geth some hundred-odd years ago. And they buy ships and parts for their Migrant Fleet, which holds a galactic record for the most cooperating ships in a single mass.

"Of course, this is all just what I've read about them. Maybe we can learn more from our newest guest when she wakes up."

"Maybe…" Shepard looked over to his new roommate, nearly heartbroken at what this visitor's people had been put through. He turned back to the caretaker, "Do you need any extra hands around here?"

"Always. If you want, you can start right now."

"I'd be glad to."