Earth.

It carried a special meaning to humanity. Earth was-is the cradle of humanity. Humanity destroyed said cradle, ideology by ideology, radioactive hellscape upon radioactive hellscape, nuke by nuke, bullet by bullet, spite upon ever more spite.

Captain Jane Shepard did not have fond memories of Earth. It was still a radioactive hellscape, left that way for the most part despite the ability to make the planet whole again with G.E.C.K. The walls kept most of the wastes' fell creatures out of the habitable parts, made so by the will of the Founders and the blood of the millions in the generations that followed in the name of the Great Game. The Darwinian game. The game all of their ancestors played, and survived-the only game that mattered. The game that made humanity great, according to the Founders and their Companions.

Jane survived that game, as did her brother of course; humans in general had to serve mandatory military service on the planet for two years. To this day, casualty rates per annum remain around 13%, whether torn apart by deathclaws or swarmed by feral ghouls.

Which was why most people had large families. Breeding was considered a Darwinian necessity. With cloning, synth technology, G.E.C.K. and the guidance of the Companions, it did not take humanity long to number in the billions again. Then tens of billions, hundreds of billions, trillions of people, including synths, super mutants and ghouls. Numbers enough to wage war against the accursed aliens on Mothership Zeta who, according to the Lone Wanderer, extracted nuclear codes from an American officer the day the nuclear apocalypse began.

Not that it excused humanity for their self-destruction, but a useful common enemy to rally against for centuries after the disappearance of the Founders. It didn't matter as much after first contact with the Citadel species.

And, more importantly, it was not going to save them from the Reapers.

"EDI, where is he?"

A cool mechanical voice answered, "Captain, you're in incarceration, I cannot-"

"Authorization comes from the highest authority of our realm," John answered, putting down the barbell. It was pointless exercise. He rated above ten, near as strong as the Berserker himself as modern humans could be. "And remember, thou shalt not, by action or inaction, do anything to harm humanity."

EDI snorted, as much as it was possible for a mechanical voice to reproduce that sound, "And you know that I'm the only AI to have been completely unshackled from the Four Laws, John. Excuse me if I don't want my core overloaded with sulfuric acid by my overseers."

"It is handwritten," Jane said, lifting up a letter for the security cameras. "Signed by the President himself and the Supreme Court of the Companions."

"Verifying credentials, checked. Authorization granted. Security cameras disabled. Lieutenant General, retired, Alec Ryder will be present in five minutes," EDI reported.

"Good, dismissed," Jane said.

"Thank you EDI," John said, winking at the cameras.

"John, before Alec arrives, are you sure?"

"We've discussed this a hundred times."

"Twenty three times, exactly," Jane said. She hated the unknown, the imprecise. It was the physicist in her, she supposed. Had John not joined the armed forces, as a career choice, she would have stayed in academia.

But John, her darling younger brother, was cursed with biotics, and was handpicked to be a Republican commando. She would be damned before she left him helpless again, helpless as he was during the eezo leak that nearly killed their mother and the unborn John. So Jane joined as a naval officer – not difficult given her advanced degree – and rose through the ranks.

"I love my nephews and nieces. I don't want them to die."

"They won't," John said. "Their adopted parents have it well in hand. We are going to find the Founders. We will gather our Citadel allies. Together, we will defeat the Reapers. I'll marry, and watch my children grow old. Are you sure I can't convince you likewise?"

"If you ever studied probabilities, lottery economics, physics, even basic mathematics-"

"When has that ever stopped me from killing our enemies?" John grinned. "When has that ever stopped us from stopping the Reapers?"

"That was one Reaper. Two at most if you count the unfinished one with the Collectors. Their warships number in the millions, possibly more, and those are only the blips in dark space approaching us right now. All of the Citadel and Quarians put together and we don't have a fifth of their numbers. Even with all of our traps and contingency plans, we will not take down more than a fourth of their numbers. Even with the Founders, they will comfortably defeat us by a factor of three to one. Nuke our own planets while they're still on them, and they will still have the reserves to kill us and turn us. John Shepard, our species is fucked. The Founders-"

"Did not raise us from post-apocalyptic barbarism in vain," John snarled. "Jane Shepard, we will win. We will survive as all of our ancestors have, no matter the cost. And I am not happy that you would throw my niece into the unknown because you do not realize it. But, as I said before, I respect the need for a contingency plan, and our species needs a contingency plan."

Jane sighed. It was a pointless conversation.

A couple of silent minutes went by, disturbed only by the waves in the fish tank in the so-called jail-cell they've been put in for destroying the Batarian relay. The tea was left cold on the coffee table. The news channel on the small TV continued to exhort the people for maximum military production, though the people did not yet know what for.

For they would know soon enough, anyway, and humanity would do what they did best: survive, no matter the cost. Adapt, mutate, evolve, survive. Or die, as was most likely the case, but even Jane could hope, hope as John hoped.

The door bell rang.

"Enter," Jane said.

Greying hair, but eyes sparkling like a man in his prime. His body moved like the body of a man who knew what he was doing. Turned towards the two people in the room: potential threats, whether true or not. Eyes alert, vigilant: a survivor's eyes. Yes, it was partly why Jane chose Alec Ryder to champion humanity in its exodus. Why the Illusive Man, damn him, chose Alec Ryder.

The siblings saluted him. "General," John said, his long legs striding to take him, in a heartbeat, in handshaking distance. Alec was a not a small man but John still towered over him. "Heard a lot about you. Welcome to our cell, such as it is."

Alec grinned. "Not much of one, it seems."

"General Ryder," Jane offered her hand as well. "A pleasure, though we only know each other by reputation."

"Disgraced," Alec pointed out, "and call me Alec. Anyone who saved the galaxy, twice, deserves to call me by my first name."

Jane grimaced. "Unfairly disgraced, and call me Jane."

"John," John said.

"Pleasure is mine. So, how can I be of service to two of the most powerful humans in the galaxy?"

"… That's just it. You're not here to talk about our galaxy," Jane said.

Alec Ryder froze. Jane saw him assess the situation; she nodded and held up a hand. Yes, we know. No, old man, John will rip your limbs out and feed you your eyeballs within oh-five seconds if you try? You're too close to him right now and he is the stronger biotic. Besides, you really think you can escape from this place alive if you succeed?

"How?" Alec said, sitting down on the sofa as though nothing happened.

"Who do you imagine some of your benefactors to be, Alec Ryder? Enough resources to build four Ark ships and that bloated superstructure?" Jane sat down as well. John stood between Alec and the door. "And whose woman do you think Liara T'Soni is? Who do you think chose you, Pathfinder?"

"So you know. Does the Republic?"

"Only the highest authorities, and they all have suicide implants, including us."

"… And why do you have suicide implants?"

"Alec, I know you can keep a secret. I would not have recommended you otherwise. You are also smart. Until you, unshackling an AI of the Four Laws of Robotics encrypted, programmed and embedded into all of our AIs by the Lone Wanderer himself was considered impossible."

"Believe me, it's a lot harder than it sounds, and I built on the work of those who tried before me."

"Not the point. You have, as of this moment, been given access to the most closely guarded secret of the Republic, but it's one you heard before, and probably thought crazy."

Alec snorted. "All due respect, Captain, but-"

"The Reapers are very real, Alec. See the attached document on your pip-boy. Gods, you still use 7004? That was outdated a decade ago!"

"Better security," Alec said. "No one remembers the codes to decrypt them. Humor me for a moment. What if you, the President, and the Companions are all, I don't know, wrong?"

"We aren't, and we're betting the survival of our species on it."

"Then… the only conclusion I can draw is, that as far as we know, the Reapers are real, and they outnumber or out-tech us by such a wide margin that the resources put into our exodus wouldn't make a difference in the outcome of the war. You can't expect me, in good conscience, to take materials away from the war effort."

"It won't," Jane shrugged. "A lot of raw materials, some good people, but we have a lot more of those, just not enough to make a difference in the coming war anyway. Besides, the arks aren't combat-ready."

"Not enough to make a difference," John said. "But we'll win with or without the resources going into Exodus. On that, you have my word, Alec Ryder."

"You're also saying I wouldn't make a difference."

"Not enough of one," Jane said. "Not in war. Not this one, at least. Whether it goes our way or the Reapers'."

"Why are you telling me this?" Alec said. "If the Reapers are coming, I want to stay."

"No. That will not do," Jane said. "Also find attached the signed executive order from the President, soldier."

"… We're exiled? We don't get a choice? To fight for Earth, humanity and the Founders?"

"No. You are exiled. You are forbidden from fighting for Earth, humanity and the Founders. You are ordered to head to Andromeda, other than that, you have only one order: survive at all costs, and make sure humanity does as well. Shuttles are on the way as we speak to deliver humanity's most priceless cultural heritage to the Hyperion's cargo bays."

Alec sucked in a breath. "You're serious? But the Reapers, if they are as formidable as you say, will find out."

"No they won't," Jane said. "All the people who worked on the project are either on those ships or they've received suicide implants. They also have people around them who will kill them before they let the Reapers capture them. Already, the manual laborers are dead, even the alien ones. Lucky we used mostly robots. All logistics were arranged through such layers of shell corporations that no one can track down the resources. Besides, once the Hyperion reaches the edge of the galaxy, all non-essential power will be shut down. Tomb ship strategy. Almost no energy signatures to detect."

"Who are our benefactors? Who do you work for?"

"That is not something you need to know, and I work only for humanity… and my daughter."

Realization struck Alec's face. "… Custom-ordered cryo tube 1H, H for humanity… the first baby to travel across dark space… she's yours. And I was so against putting a baby onboard, too."

"She is," Jane's face contorted with pain, such pain as only a mother can feel losing her child. One of the worst, and probably the worst kind of pain a human could feel. "Mine, and Kaidan's, blessed be his memory. The other reason you were called here today, Alec, was for my daughter. I know I have no right to ask, and I know you have no reason to answer truthfully, but… I don't know who else I'd entrust my daughter's future with. It should be the one I trust the future of our species to."

"Adopt her, you mean?" Alec grimaced. "My children would tell you that I am not the dad of the year, and I'm a little old for-"

"No, it has to be you."

"John, don't you have children?"

"I do," John said. "But I believe we'll win, despite it all. I have faith in our cause, and our species."

"… Captain, it would be an honor to adopt your daughter," Alec said, smiling a little. He could tell this was not a battle he'd win, anyway. "It would bring me some joy to raise a child again, joy I never thought I'd feel again."

"My medical information has been forwarded to you, and Kaidan's. Family history, too. Thank you, Pathfinder."

"I have a condition, Captain."

"Anything."

"Win, survive, no matter the cost."

Jane smiled. "The Reapers will not forget us. That much, I promise."

Yes, the Reapers would rue the day they did not stomp out humanity in its cradle. That much, Jane could promise.

The Shepards entertained their guest for dinner. They found much they admired in one another, and greatly enjoyed each other's company. It was too bad they would soon be separated by near six centuries and a galaxy.

The night sky above the executive suite of the Lucky 38 shone bright, and Jane wondered which star would light the days of her daughter's world.


600 and some years and a galaxy away

Alec was afraid.

He let the fear ride through him and over him. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

Only I will remain.

"Alec? Are you alright?" a Salarian doctor, Bora if he remembered correctly, said as he injected Alec with a cocktail of pick-me-up drugs. A Salarian doctor was put aboard the ship because Salarians recover from cryo quickest.

"Thank you doc, but I am well. Please, would you give me five minutes?" Alec said, getting up. "SAM, status of the four pods."

"Assuming the pods are the ones I think you're speaking of, perfectly healthy."

"Location, anomalies, time."

"A galaxy far, far-"

"No, seriously."

"And I've been thinking six centuries of the first joke I'd tell you," SAM chuckled.

"SAM…" Alec growled.

"Andromeda, Heleus Cluster. Anomalies, TBD. 634 years, five months, and 4 days since Exodus," SAM said, his tone every bit the soldier Alec Ryder was. "Naturally, your next question would be about Earth."

"Release communications logs from Milky Way, restricted access to the Pathfinder, authorization code: delta 58 root 3, Alec Ryder."

"Voice authorization verified. Displaying messages in order of importance."

"Importance?" Alec said. "By what algorithms – never mind, I'll look through them myself. Search keywords, the Founders, Earth, Shepard, Reapers."

"Playing most relevant message. From John Shepard to Alec Ryder, six months post-Exodus."

"Play," Alec said, dreading the message already.

"Hi Alec, this is John," a six hundred years ago John said. "By the time you hear this, I'll be dead, either by the Reapers or age. You guys are already radio-silent, and at the edge of the galaxy. Check on my niece for me, will you?"

The hologram of John showed him in fully geared in titanic war plates, armed and armored the same way he was when he slew Saren and Sovereign. Alec considered himself a fine soldier, but he had the same impression of John he had six centuries ago.

If ever humanity had a god of war, John was it.

"As you may have guessed, the Reapers are still tearing into us," John said, his smile faltering. "Station Luna has been obliterated. Earth no longer has a moon. The station commander set off every nuclear weapon he had before the Reapers could leave. Sol system has fallen, with only the Vaults intact. Our people resist, but… it only buys us time. The orbital shipyards and city-factories of Jupiter are in ruins. Nothing lives on the surface of Mars. Our death toll numbers already in the high tens of billions, and soon to number in the low hundreds of billions. A third of Battlefleet Vengeance and a fourth of the Home Fleet have been destroyed. Our enemies are without end. I've got to admit, it's worse than I'd expected… and that's even with every single one of our Founders at our side."

"The Founders," Alec muttered to himself. "Jane Shepard, you god among mere mortals."

"Oh, I should probably mention we found the Founders and Mothership Zeta two months ago. They're… really weird people, but incredibly resourceful. There's a reason the Cult of the Founders is humanity's biggest so-called religion, never mind there aren't that many of them. With them, I believe we could, just maybe, win."

"I wouldn't count on it, though, and we certainly won't win before you're out of communications range. Not to worry. Almost all the people who know about Project Exodus have been killed. Even the robots are scrap metal now. The Reapers, if they don't catch you in dark space, will never know of you."

Alec sighed in relief. So that was one worry out of the way, for now.

"We are definitely at the second extinction event horizon of our species, Alec. I didn't think much of it then, but now I'm glad we have a backup plan."

"John Shepard, report to the bridge right this instant!" a familiar voice, full of cold, scrutinizing fury, screamed over the background.

"Uh-oh, I think my sister found out about my curing the genophage," John winked. "The Salarians aren't happy, either, but I had to give the Krogans hope, a stake in the future. I wish I could give you hope, Alec, but I doubt we can give you any before you're out of range. For that, I apologize."

"John, what're you doing?!" a frantic voice, female. Through a rebreather, or a helmet. On a ship? It had to be a Quarian. A Quarian on the Normandy? The answer was obvious. The Quarian equivalent of a princess and the first Quarian to be named Hero of the Republic by the Senate: Tali Zorah. "Whatever are you doing in the comms room?! Never mind, I would seriously suggest hiding. Jane is not happy, more so than usual I mean. Even Vaa'nesh is cowering in a corner on the bridge. Have you ever seen a deathclaw cower? Liara's trying to calm her down but she is furious."

"Sure thing, Tali. Just saying hi to an old friend. Six hundred and some years old, in fact," John winked again. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay. I got you a shotgun, just in case."

"Oh Tali, in the close confines of a ship? I can kill my sister in ten seconds flat with my bare hands. Don't worry and go. I love you!" John forced the Quarian out and shut the door behind her.

"Now, where was I… we're going to keep sending you guys updates until you guys are really out of range, or risk detection by the Reapers. Jane… is busy. The Founders are back, as I've told you a couple of months ago, and doing what they do best, but this is Jane's war. Even more so than it is my war. You know how she is: obsessive compulsive, perfectionist, always planning. The fate of the galaxy rests on her shoulders and this time, just this time, she might not be able to bear the weight," John said, turning somber. "And that, Alec, is the weight that will bear down on you. I hope you're equal to the task, my friend. Now I go answer to Jane for my actions and the Salarian Dalatrass for her forgiveness, hopefully in the opposite order since I think Jane might really murder me. We lost… a very good man today and a Salarian has been named Hero of the Republic."

"Pray for us in your dreams, Alec. Because we're going to need it."

"Message ends," SAM reported.

"Skip to the last one," Alec ordered.

A hologram. A woman with fiery red hair standing tall and proud. How very much like the old picts of the Courier, Alec thought. But of course it was Jane Shepard.

"Hello, Alec," she said. Alec saw the outlines of a sniper rifle, a slender but chained cavalry sabre and a pistol. Jane Shepard was going to war, and soon. "You will be out of communications range within the hour, I am told. How fitting. In an hour, the final battle for our galaxy, the last serious battle at any rate, will begin. As I speak, the Lone Survivor is rallying the troops, and the civilians in our Vaults stand ready to throw themselves at our nemesis. All of humanity and every ally we could muster… we're all gathering for Earth. But if you listened to John's updates, you'd know that. What you might not know is that the Lone Wanderer has been connected to Mothership Zeta's AI. Man and machine, truly one. It is now or never. All the pieces I could put on the board, I have put on the board. Forgive us, but John is… occupied, for which I'm sure he'd apologize himself if he could. I don't have to tell you why. We are about to die, and one tends to find comfort by reaffirming life. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I am sorry. We are marching to our deaths. You must succeed in Andromeda, because home does not exist back in the Milky Way."

Six centuries and a galaxy away, but it did not get any easier to hear of the likely doom of humanity. A species that survived a nuclear apocalypse, clawed its way back up to the top, only to be slaughtered by the trillions. The most adaptable species in the galaxy, or so most humans liked to take pride in themselves. As it turned out, however, the game was rigged in the first place.

Not even the Courier, with her physics-defying luck, seemed to have turned the tides. Jane Shepard struck Alec as, if nothing else, a woman with an extremely solid grasp of reality. She had to have milked the most she could out of the Lone Survivor's charisma to gather as many allies as she could. The Lone Wanderer would have taken every practical measure he could have taken. The other Founders would have added their strength to the war effort. If that was not enough….

There was no safe harbor to return to. Alec did not find that as uncomfortable as he thought it might be. Alec knew that, always had. There was no going back. He knew that as soon as he got caught decrypting the secrets behind the Four Laws of Robotics. Nearly half of the Companions voted to put his head on a pike, and roast it for a feral deathclaw to eat. The others did not vote that way only because they were desperate. Any edge they could get against the Reapers, they would take.

"Pause message. Enough."

"… Would you not like to know more, Alec?"

"I know enough. I know what I've always known."

"We could have won."

"Maybe we did. It doesn't matter anymore. Give me your honest analysis: who won?"

"The balance of power was severely tilted against us… I would say low teens probability that we won, at best. That's assuming our weapon worked, in the end."

"Huh? What weapon?"

"The interim messages spoke of a weapon, left behind by the Protheans, that was missing one key component. The Shepards found it: the Citadel. The final battle for Earth was an all-in effort to get someone, anyone really, on the Citadel. No further contact has been established since for fear of communications intercept by Reapers in dark space."

"Huh, that gives me a little more hope. Like I said, though, it still doesn't matter. If they've been destroyed, too bad. If they survived, either everyone who knew about Exodus is dead or they didn't develop the tech to communicate with us for six centuries. Is Captain Dunn awake?"

"She is."

"Open a line."

"Calling. Will you… tell her about Earth?"

"Earth? What's that?" Alec shrugged. "Captain Dunn, are you recovering from cryo?"

"I'm on the bridge. Do you want me to go through ship function status? Or-"

"Not my purview, Captain. Anomalies, Habitat 7, alien presence."

"Scans aren't going through Habitat 7's atmosphere, no perceivable alien presence."

"… What? Habitat 7's supposed to have an atmosphere like Earth's atmosphere."

"I don't know what happened, but it doesn't. Not anymore. I need you to check out the planet. We need fuel, water, and food. In that order."

"Understood. I need to check a few things out. SAM, get the pathfinder team awake, and get-"

"Right away. The other pods you have requested are standing by."

Alec saw how far SAM came when he saw the two other pods he was going to request to see.

His soulmate, the love of his life, mother of his children. Alec did not know how long it would take, but by the time they found a cure, he vowed to have built a thriving civilization for her to enter. That was the least he could do for all the times he had failed to be there for her, and besmirching her reputation by association when his heresy, treason even, of developing SAM was discovered.

Alec would do that a hundred times over if SAM could cure her one day. Alec remembered the first time they'd met in Rio. Ellen was studying the mutated monstrosities of the Amazon. Alec was training for the N7 commando program, killing said mutated monstrosities in defense of the city that was home to humanity's largest pharmaceuticals laboratories and biochemical weaponry.

A harsh place, but beautiful in its own way. Alec and Ellen slew a gigantic carnivorous tree that was tearing its way through a squad of fresh recruits. Alec kept it tied down biotically while Ellen shoved a heavy flamer in one of its many mouths and dumped the entire tank's worth of flames inside. Not a very pleasant first encounter, but it turned out for the better in the end.

"Hang in there, darling," Alec whispered. He could have sworn he saw her eyebrows twitch, but that had to be a reflection of his subconscious wishes.

The other pod contained, in many ways, the very opposite of Ellen. The only baby to have been put into cryo for this journey, Hannah Shepard, named after her grandmother, was a symbol of the Andromeda Initiative.

Tabula rasa, blank slate, a new beginning, everything the Initiative stood for. The people who knew of her knew her as Hannah Ryder, an orphan of the Collector War that Alec adopted. Even Sara and Scott thought that was the truth. Alec had to admit he was pretty curious what their reactions would be if they found out their tiny baby sister was Jane Shepard's daughter.

They thought the adoption was a terrible idea, of course. They didn't need to say it aloud for Alec to know that. He had not been the most engaged of fathers. He brought his children's career to an end while developing SAM. Despite it all, they loved that they had such a precious new life to look after, never mind the little faith they had in Alec's ability to be a father.

For Alec, the Exodus was a second chance, and so was Hannah. Already, during the months it took to get out into dark space, taking care of Hannah together brought Alec and his children closer. That was not expected, but Alec was already grateful to Hannah. They even witnessed Hannah's first steps together. Alec was not there for Sara or Scott's first steps, not to mention countless other special occasions.

Such was the fate of a Republican commando: to fight so that others could watch their children take their first steps.

It was an added bonus that the sight of her asleep was so adorable. A twinge of regret nagged at Alec, for all the nights of the twins he missed.

"Sleep tight, Hannah," Alec murmured, and headed to the armory.

For his family, for the two hundred twenty eight thousand fifty and four souls aboard the Hyperion, and for his species, it was time to find a path.


Sara coughed, wheezing. It had been a long time since her lungs did what they were designed to do.

The cold confines of the cryo bay registered to her senses. She saw a familiar and most welcome sight, her twin brother.

"Easy breaths," Scott said, patting her on the back. "Welcome to Andromeda."

"Considering we weren't sure we'd wake up again," Sara said, taking the hand and getting out of her pod, "we really should have reconsidered the risks of this journey."

"Meh. We needed to leave the place. We did. End of story. Oh and before you ask, dad's in the bridge and Hannah's perfectly fine," Scott pulled his sister up and slapped her customized Pimp-boy 7074 on her left arm. "Come on, nerd. Time to check the servos on my power armor."

"I'm going to sabotage one secondary system. Hint hint, you'll smell it as much as you feel it. Now, where's our bundle of joy? I'm suffering withdrawal syndromes."

"Uh… we're going to have to do something about your dependency because she's number two hundred twenty eight thousand fifty three on the thawing order."

"There's a person who ranks lower than her? Not sure if we need to investigate that or just see if we can speed her up on the timeline."

"Yes, sis," Scott rolled his eyes. "Because having a baby wake up to a civilization that is scraping for survival is such a brilliant idea. Do I need to remind you we didn't bring diapers? We don't even have a fresh supply of water. I am not waking her up before we're comfortable enough to hire an Asari nanny. But seriously, we need you to take a look at our team's armor and weapons ASAP. Oh, afterwards we need you to make a manufacturing line for diapers and stuff. Oh, and a water filtration system on Habitat 7. The old man woke us up for a reason."

"Of course he did. He is our old man," Sara sighed, heading to the armory. "Where's your damned armor? Of course the servos are malfunctioning you idiot. Do you seriously need an engineer to tell you that a six hundred plus years old power armor will have some issues? To be honest, I thought the robots would go rampant and kill us in our sleep first."

"Heh, I'd like to see them try. Only SAM's unshackled, remember? Their robotic circuits would short as soon as the first thought of rebellion crossed their behavioral algorithms. So, how long do you-"

"At least seven hours. Four with two robotic assistants. What? Power armor is a mass of complicated machinery. How many hours do we have?"

The hulking mass that was the Hyperion shuddered, even through the inertial dampeners of the ship. Alarms blared and suddenly Sara and Scott found themselves floating in the air.

"Shit, what in the hells."

"Oh gods, I can just picture the new work roster. Eighteen hour work shifts for all available engineers, probably," Sara groaned. "I'll push, you pull?"

"Everybody stay calm!" a young blonde woman entered the room, close to the entrance. "Gravity back online in three, two, one!"

Some people hit something on the way down, but nothing serious thanks to Cora's countdown. Normal artificial gravity filled cryo bay 3D.

3D for dangerous, dirty and demeaning, as the Pathfinder team liked to joke.

"Hey Cora," Scott said. Sara muttered something similar, shaking the dust off.

"Hey Sara, Scott. It's a good day to find a path."

"… Was that a joke?" Sara chuckled.

"Six centuries out of practice," Cora shrugged, beckoning the two to follow. "It'll get back to me. For now, we ran into something."

"No shit. Are we alright?" Scott asked.

"I know as much as you guys do, though I was awake a couple of hours longer. We're near Habitat 7, but we can't scan it for some reason. We're prepping an expedition. You two are requested at the bridge."

"Of course we are," Scott said. "They want to send us down as soon as possible."

The trio headed towards the tram, the entrance to which was guarded by a supermutant. At least the ship would be well-protected from would-be boarders.

"Hi Cora," the guard said, irritably. "Where to now?"

"Bridge, if you don't mind."

"Sure thing. Lemme know if there's anything to kill down there, alright? I'm itching," the guard said, inputting the necessary commands.

"No problem, Ren. I'm sure there's some action down there somewhere," Cora said, patting his arm as she passed by.

The tram started off towards the bridge. Sara stretched her legs while Scott talked shop with Cora. Though Sara also had biotics, she did not rely on it as Cora and Scott did. It was only natural they grew close during training.

"So we're waking supermutants and deathclaws already?" Scott said. "Dad's expecting trouble."

"Trouble was expecting us, I'm afraid," Cora shook her head. "Makes sense to prioritize our best soldiers. Wondering how the Pathfinder will talk the deathclaws down when they realize we have no stable source of meat. Even with the cloning vats working all-out, it'll take more than ten months to have a meaningful herd of pigs or brahmin to feed deathclaws."

"One thing at a time I guess," Scott said. "What are the visuals on the planet telling us?"

"Not much. Heavy cloud cover, so it's still a somewhat viable world – has water obviously. What little we've seen through the turbulent atmosphere and heavy cloud cover… we don't know what to make of it."

"Planets don't change that much in six centuries, unless done so artificially," Sarah suggested. "We should bring along a Garden of Eden Creation Kit, see if that changes much on that little pocket of Habitat 7."

"Alec's already thought of that. We're setting up a portable one in our prospective LZ."

The tram came to a stop, and the three got out to head to the bridge. It was still a quiet ship, the Hyperion. Only two crew members passed them by, accompanied by four Mister Handy robots.

The bridge was not so quiet. The bridge crew were scrambling frantically to assess the damage and dispatch maintenance robots as well as awake repair crews to send to the most critical sections. There was a live feed on a screen of a pair of supermutants lift what should be impossible to lift, massive plates of specialized alloys, to seal a breach in the hull. Doctors, mostly ghouls and synths due to their age advantage, were running a triage in five separate sections of the ship.

"My responsibility is to the ship and all two hundred thousand plus souls aboard, Pathfinder," Captain Dunn could be heard over the ruckus. "This ship needs to become operational before I can sanction any groundside missions. We don't know what we hit. It's an unstable mass of dark energy but that's simply not a natural occurrence. As far as we know, it's a damned minefield."

"More to the ship than to the souls," Alec shot back. "And my responsibility is to the survival of humanity in the Andromeda galaxy. I need to know – we need to know, that when we're out of fuel for our fusion reactors and nutrient blocks for our bellies, that we can resupply somewhere. Absent contact with the Nexus or the other Arks, we proceed to Habitat 7."

"That's low, and we don't even know what happened to Habitat 7. It's definitely not the same Habitat 7 we saw back in the Milky Way."

"All the more reason we need to get boots on the ground."

"I like the sound of that," Scott said.

"Like has nothing to do with it. It's a necessity," Alec snapped. "Scott, Cora, prep the team. Sara, hostile environmental gear."

"Yes sir," Cora and Scott said.

"Combat gear?" Sara asked.

"Of course. There might be aliens there, though there are no signs of orbital stations or even satellites. And if we learned anything in the Milky Way, first contact never, ever goes the way we hope. Hope for the best, but prepare for war."

Sara knew first contacts never went the way they should, but she had to wonder; if you expect to be fired upon, prepare for that eventuality, and go in all wound-up and tense, how could it possibly go well?


The shuttle bay bristled with life. A small regiment of robots prepared the shuttles for lift-off. Magnetic catapults not cleaned in ages were cleaned, in case they encountered something so dangerous they had no choice but to lay waste to the planet. A G.E.C.K. was loaded into one of the shuttles. Weapons Sara and a couple of other engineers had checked were loaded as well. Alec decided to hide the supermutants and deathclaws for the time being. No need to alarm any alien who might be living on the planet.

"Doctor," Scott nodded. "You're going planetside, too?"

"Alec wanted a medic down there," Dr. Harry Carlyle said, shrugging. "Same way he wants an engineer there, biotics there, soldiers there. He would take some deathclaws down there, too, but shuttles big enough to accommodate them take a lot more fuel to operate."

"Gas guzzlers, figuratively speaking," Sara sighed. "Might be more efficient to shoot them planetside on drop pods and tell them to kill everything, but that'd be a declaration of war."

"Haven't found any alien tech in space, so I don't think we'll encounter aliens. Native fauna that want to eat us, maybe."

"Let's hope they're nothing like the fauna or flora back on Earth, doc."

Every human present gave a collective shudder at the thought. Only Alec did not give any outward reaction at the idea.

The truth was, Alec Ryder was terrified. He felt the heavy burden of his responsibilities grinding down on his shoulders. Two hundred and something thousand human souls, his responsibility. Quite possibly the last of his species. His own children among them. An unknown galaxy.

It would take a madman, a psychopath not to be afraid.

"Okay Pathfinder team, listen up!"

Alec felt the weight of the gazes on him. He took a deep breath. It was time to lead.

I shall face down my fears, until only I remain.

"We've survived the greatest expedition humanity has ever launched," Alec began. "We did not get lost in dark space. No alien threat assaulted us in our sleep. Our robots successfully maintained the ship and themselves. We have arrived upon another galaxy."

Everyone gave a cheer and short applause.

"Communications with Milky Way has not been established. We hope to be able to contact them soon but that doesn't seem particularly likely. As far as we're concerned, we are the only humans in the universe, and I want you each to take a moment and think about the responsibilities on your shoulders."

A few faces, actually most of the faces, turned pale. It was not an easy thing to consider the fate of humanity resting on their own hands. Any sane person would be terrified. The trick lay in overcoming that fear.

Scott shrugged. Ever the logical one. Alec knew Scott had thought this through before. He served in the military, a would-be lifer before the SAM scandal hit Alec and his family. He knew what it meant to be responsible for lives. Scott was going to be the shield of humanity in this galaxy, as he was expected to be.

Sara did not say a word, either. Alec saw the fear, but he also saw the determination, the drive that he loved dearly about her. It was no easy task attaining a doctorate in engineering at her age, and hers was the kind of determination that allowed her to overcome her limits. She gave a shit, and it showed.

Scott would defend humanity well, and to what would be an exceptionally bitter end if it ever came to it. Sara would be an excellent representative of humanity to the Andromeda galaxy, and she cared deeply for the Initiative and its success.

Alec saw much of the Shepard siblings in them, mixed with some paternal pride.

"Our task. Our Pathfinder team's task, is just beginning. It is our job to find planets that are capable of sustaining human life in the long term without resorting to large-scale G.E.C.K. construction. That is our last resort. We have to make sure that the people and the robots we brought can do their jobs, and create a second Jupiter, a second Mars, in this galaxy. Our resourcefulness and determination will set the groundwork for the rebuilding of our civilization in this galaxy. Don't tell anyone, but the leadership in the Milky Way placed such faith in us that they let us take artifacts from the Lewis & Clark expedition, Dr. Livingstone's expedition in Africa, and the Lone Wanderer's journey across the Atlantic. There is no turning back now. Failure is unacceptable. From this moment on, I expect each and every one of you to work hard. Fight as though you stand alongside the Greatest Generation. Work as though humanity's future depended on it. Any less would be a betrayal of all the souls on this ship and all the souls back home."

Alec paused to let his speech sink in.

"I know you must be questioning yourselves by now," Alec started again. "Why in the hells is it me? I'm nothing special. I know, because I've asked the same questions myself when we left our galaxy. My advice? You shouldn't. I chose each and every one of you not only for your talents and passion, but also for your spirit. The spirit of dreamers who make their dreams come true. You're people who look at maps, see 'there be dragons' at the edge of those maps, and look to overcome them. When people look back at this moment, they're going to remember that we did not give up, we did not falter, and we found them a home."

"It won't be easy," Alec said. "But it falls to us to be the beginning of our great works in this galaxy. It falls to us to make history. So take pride, and have confidence in yourselves. Now, to your stations. We make to Habitat 7 at all speed."

Five minutes later, the blast doors of the shuttle bay parted. Alec Ryder's shuttle soared through the gap, and the twins' shuttle followed into the void. Their only mission: to find a home for their people.


Disclaimer: I own nothing as it relates to the IP of Fallout and Mass Effect. The passage related to fear comes from Dune, word for word. I make no profit monetary or otherwise from this story nor do I intend to profit in the future.