A/N: Hey y'all, welcome to the PuppyFanfic family! Grab a snack, sit back, and enjoy yourselves. Comments/Reviews make my day and inspire me to keep writing, so feel free to leave a review or drop me a PM. Criticism is always welcome. All story ownership goes to Bioware; I'm blessed to play in their little sandbox.
Love you, all! Have an awesome day!
-xoxo, PuppyLove
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Though wrapped in the first deep, dreamless sleep that she had been blessed with in months, the repetitive dripping noise weaseled its way into Sara's unwilling subconscious. The chemist within her groaned; a flask had likely tipped over while she snoozed, but the mere thought of rousing herself enough to stop the spillage was enough to set her head spinning. From the acrid, tangy smell of acetone that filled the air, she figured she was left with two options: pry her face off her desk and back into the reality of the lab, or go back to sleep and ignore the probable occurrence of a fire, explosion, or other impending—and likely gruesome—disaster.
The inner debate took her longer to resolve than it likely should have.
Choosing responsibility over the allure of going back to sleep, Sara struggled to pry her eyelids open. Turning her head to peer at the soft, comforting glow of her omni-tool, she noted the time: 0432.
"Shit," she internally cursed, shooting out of the chair and locating the troublesome spill of the organic solvent. She had it cleaned within moments; frantically racing, her lab equipment was prepped and put away within seconds more. Of all the god-forsaken days to sleep in, she had chosen perhaps the most important: the day of departure.
Equipment and lab prepped for her permanent retirement, Sara took a moment to organize the papers of her dissertation for her asari assistant. While the asari had a brilliant mind and was technically older than Sara by decades, the the young alien scientist had admired Sara's research enough to volunteer as her assistant throughout the completion of her Prothean dissertation. Her assistance had been invaluable to Sara. When the news of Alec Ryder's dishonorable discharge and Sara's subsequent "departure" from the Alliance program had surfaced, her assistant had neither judged nor asked questions; instead, Vieen had stayed overtime to assist Sara in the completion of her time on Mars. Little did the asari know that Sara had already submitted a digital copy of the paper in Vieen's name. The asari had been more than capable of holding the lead on the project, and Sara would not need the recognition for the Prothean research advancement where she was going. She no longer had anything to prove; not in this galaxy, anyway. There was no need for Prothean research in a galaxy where the Prothean empire hadn't spanned. Would her research even be anything but obsolete by the time she awoke?
She doubted it.
No, it was better to give the credit to someone who both deserved and needed it.
Taking a moment to regard the lab, whose recesses she had spent countless thoughtful hours in and would most likely never see again, she sighed. Fluorescent lights gleamed off of the polished white tile floor. Stainless metallic countertops, littered with sterile equipment, were spread across the lab.
Sara's lab, the Rice University Department of Biotechnology and Small-Particle Research, was renowned for its nanoscale experimentation. At seventeen, Sara had graduated from the University of Oxford with a degree in Biochemistry and minors in Mathematics and Psychology. The Alliance had approached her following her graduation, offering her an officer's position. With the obligation of a five-year service contract, the Alliance had offered to sponsor her through her post-graduate and doctoral degrees. She accepted.
Initially, she had been assigned to peace-keeping duties within the Prothean research station on Mars, but was eventually promoted as research support. Completing her dissertation had been hard while simultaneously juggling her time in the Alliance. With Sara's past experience with biochemistry and high energy physics, her superiors in the Alliance had thought relocating her to this laboratory would be a good fit. They were wrong; it had been a wonderful fit. She had immediately adopted and adapted to the protocols and experiments, even beginning her own.
Eventually, the scientists there had discovered her value; now, there was only one small thing keeping her from sending in her completed research and receiving her doctorate: in a few short hours, she would be put to sleep. Upon waking up, she would be in a new galaxy…
Six hundred years in the future.
She would miss the sterile environment of the lab. Microscopes, histology slides, chemical ingredients, specimen samples and eclectic artifacts littered the surface of the cool, metallic countertops. Such miscellaneous pieces, and yet all had somehow managed to find their homes here.
Pursing her lips in consideration, she supposed she was very similar to that diverse collection; useful to some, alien and strange to others. But regardless of outside opinion, just like those tidbits of alien artifacts, she too had found a home in the lab. And now, black-listed by the court marshal and subsequent dishonorable discharge of her father, she was giving up her life's most idealistic job to pursue a fantasy that would undoubtedly cost thousands of people—if not all one-hundred thousand—their lives.
She snorted; when had she become such a pessimist?
Bending to retrieve the few eclectic belongings she had spread across her station, Sara's gaze paused on a small, metallic frame. The picture within—not digital, but an antique polaroid—dimly reflected the harsh, fluorescent lighting of the lab.
Stroking the cool metal of the frame with the tips of her fingers, Sara couldn't help the smile that creased the outline of her full lips. The picture of the passionate, beautiful woman framed within the metal outline stirred her resolve. Though she hadn't been initially excited about her impending trip, Sara had decided that it was in this new place, this new galaxy, that she would find her purpose. It was time for a new start, and Sara was determined to make her mother proud.
Eyebrows lowering with a sneer, the smile instantly dissolved from her face. She wouldn't even bother trying to make her father proud; she wasn't even sure if such a thing was possible. Lost in her own—admittedly bitter—thoughts, Sara didn't hear the whoosh of the opening door.
"Good lord Sara, it's only five in the morning and you're already managing to look surly," jested a smooth, slightly husky voice. Sara looked up to see who was interrupting her inner diatribe, sneer instantly replaced with a grin. A tall man reclined in the doorway, muscled arms crossed his chest in nonchalance. His brown hair was cut close to his head, the sides cropped in a practical, militaristic style. Stubble lined his jaw—not more than a few days old—and a cocky smile tugged at the corners of his familiarly-full lips. His blue eyes, pupils rimmed with molten gold, twinkled in good humor. Any other woman in the galaxy might have thought him handsome, but Sara still saw the lanky seventeen year old whose arms and legs were too long for his quickly-growing body.
"Scott!" she exclaimed, probably a little too excitedly, while stuffing the polaroid in her bag. Mouth quirked into a huge grin, she struggled to speak as she reached out to him with a joyful embrace. "What are you doing here? How did you even get in he-?"
Her exclamations were replaced by a gleeful squeal as he picked her up, bodily swinging her around the lab.
"Just stopping by to make sure you weren't planning on ditching," Scott said, grin stretched across his face.
"You got here just in time," she said, a cheeky grin on her face. "You almost lost me."
"And suffer alone through a six-hundred year road trip with Dad?" Scott asked, feigning offense. "I don't think so."
"No, you just had to drag me into it, too," she replied sourly, rolling her eyes. "It'll be a grand ole family reunion."
"Give him a chance, Sara," Scott said, voice gentling in understanding as his hands encircled her forearms, fingertips coming to rest on her skin. He ducked his head slightly, catching her amber gaze with his own. "This is it, little duck. A new start. A new life. A better life."
"Can't say that I'm entirely convinced," she said with a longing glance at the gleaming genome mapper that proudly displayed a holographic segment of Prothean genetic code.
"Believe me, you'll be Queen of the Andromeda galaxy before you know it," Scott said, flashing her one of his most convincing smiles. She looked up at him, unable to stop her return smile.
"Though I have to admit," Scott said, releasing her and examining the lab. "you're giving up quite the life here."
"You almost sound impressed," Sara said dryly, turning her focus to her terminal. She tapped out a few delicate strokes, transferring her data to her omni-tool. It hummed happily in response.
"I am," he replied easily, leaning against the counter beside her. "You know I've always been impressed with you. You inherited all of the smarts."
"Ha! When did you get a sense of humor?" She asked him, clicking off her terminal. She turned to him, meeting his gaze. He hadn't stopped watching her, his face full of gentle concern.
"Sara," Scott said gently. She looked away from him again, struggling to find something to distract her from the empty ache in her chest. Her gaze fell on the transmission microscope in the corner of the room. It had only arrived a few days ago; she had barely had enough time to read the manual, much less delve into its intricate capabilities. It was an incredible machine; it enabled scientists, such as herself, to view and analyze materials smaller than a nanometer with startling clarity.
"Are you ignoring me to ogle a microscope?" Scott asked, stepping to stand in her direct line of sight. She sighed; he always had a way of snatching her mind back to reality.
"It's a very nice microscope," she defended.
"Are you worried about being stuck with Dad?" Scott asked. Sara grimaced; he had always had such a proficient way of reading her.
"I wouldn't say "worried" is the right term," Sara replied, grimacing. "You know that we didn't part under the best circumstances."
Scotts's lips pressed together, frowning. He nodded in understanding. "I know your relationship is rocky, but you have to admit that this seems to be the best time for change. Give him a chance, Sara."
"You're supposed to tell me what I want to hear," she said, smiling at her brother.
"I'd rather tell you what you need to hear."
"You always do," Sara said. Her heart felt warm; being around her twin brother always had that effect. She shook off her lab coat, fetching her clearance badge out of the pocket.
"You know how much I love reminiscing," Scott said, bending to retrieve her bag from the floor. "but we really need to leave."
"Why?" Sara asked, glancing at her omni-tool. 0447. "Are we in a rush?"
"Well you might not be, but.…" Scott said, avoiding her gaze. He placed his hand against her back, pushing her out the door.
"Scott," Sara said, a sinking feeling in her chest. "Why do you look so guilty?"
"Let's just say that, unlike you, I didn't have one of those fancy top-secret clearance badges," Scott said, voice taking on a much higher octave. Just as he finished speaking, a high whine filled the air. The fluorescent lights of the hallway snapped off, switching to the dull emergency-red flood lights. She quickly identified the high-pitched whine as the laboratory's blaring alarm system.
"Come on, come on, come one," Scott said excitedly, pushing her through the hallway. "We have an intergalactic transport to catch!"
"Damn it, Scott," Sara squealed, throwing her head back in laughter. She chased her brother down the hall, hand in hand, until her segment of the lab was out of sight. It was true that she was leaving behind the benefits of her past life; however, she also had the opportunity to leave behind the scars, the pain, and the mistakes.
Andromeda would be the start to a new life. A better life.
She never looked back.