Author's Note:

Hello everyone. I hope you enjoy my first foray into the masterpiece that is Mass Effect. I've been a lurker of the site for a long time, but I recently built up the courage to finally submit my own work.

Any criticism is good criticism and I look forward to reading what you think. Let me know what you like, what you dislike, what works, and what doesn't work.

Again, thank you for your time and I hope you have a great day!

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The constant thrum-thrum-thrum of the Tempest's drive core seemed to reverberate through the Pathfinder's quarters. A relentless drone that pierced his skull and made it impossible to relax. Even with the cabin's noise dampeners active, one nuisance was replaced with another as the constant bickering between Kallo and Gil could still be heard over the ship-wide intercom. While it usually provided comedic relief to more serious circumstances, it now made the Pathfinder want to break something. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Combine that ongoing frustration with the stress of allowing thousands of captive Angara to die for the sake of destroying an exaltation facility and Ryder had had enough for one day. His palm slammed against the com-system's override feature.

"Kallo! Gil!"

"Yes, Pathfinder?"

"SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP."

All communication throughout the ship went silent. Conversations stopped mid-sentence. An eerie quiet filtered through the ship as none of the crew were sure how to respond to the Pathfinder's sudden eruption. His usual demeanor of professional stoicism and occasional sarcastic wit rarely gave way to passionate outbursts. It was a side that few were privy to and fewer had experienced. Ryder collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh. His crashing headache now a subtle throbbing. Minutes passed and he felt the comforting embrace of sleep tug at the edges of his mind as his body slowly released the tension of the last few days. Just as his mind crossed the edge into murky oblivion, the image of an Angaran woman appeared. An inferno raged around her as blood dripped from her limp fingers. He moved to grab her shoulder, to pull her away from the roaring flames, but her eyes locked him in place. She said no words, but her eyes blamed him for her death, and the Pathfinder couldn't argue otherwise. He left her – whoever this ghost was – to die. There was no way around that fact. The woman opened her mouth and screamed as the fire around her billowed with intensity. The inferno burned and burned, the heat from the flames caused Ryder's skin to prickle uncomfortably. He reached out again in a futile effort to pull her away, but her screaming intensified and the area around them exploded.

Ryder jolted awake, his throat raw and his clothes damp with sweat. He slid to the edge of the bed and placed his head into his hands.

"Goddammit."

Unceremoniously removing his shirt and tossing it to the floor, Ryder walked to his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the top drawer. If he couldn't sleep, then he was going to get drunk. As he removed the cork lid and brought the bottle to his lips, a light rap-rap echoed from his door. He deactivated the magnetic lock and sat heavily in his desk chair, the bottle of whiskey clutched in his grip

"It's open."

The door to his quarters slid open and the Tempest's personal smuggler tentatively made her entrance. Vetra Nyx was not a timid individual. If anything, her years and experience living in the grey areas of society made her stronger and more determined than the average person. That being said, emotional situations always made her feel awkward and out of place. In the world of cut-throat smuggling there was very little room for feelings and openness.

"Hey Ryder…You doing alright?"

She first noticed that he looked exhausted. His eyes were heavy and his posture uncharacteristic. He seemed to be attempting to appear casual but he ultimately just looked uncomfortable. Ryder took a long drink from the bottle in his hand and visibly grimaced from the burn as it went down.

"I'm great. Couldn't be better."

"Well, you don't look like you're doing great. Honestly, you kinda look like something the Varren dragged in."

He laughed and took another sip of whiskey.

"Oh, you wound me Miss Nyx," he placed a hand on his chest. "And here I thought you came to cheer me up."

She grabbed one of the lounge chair near the bed and dragged it closer to where he was sitting.

"So, there is something wrong."

It wasn't a question but a statement. She reached out for the bottle and he relinquished it willingly. Vetra took a moment to appraise the amber liquid inside, appreciating the earthy aroma which wafted from the bottle's opening. Ryder adjusted himself and leaned on an elbow braced on the chair's armrest, his chin cupped in his hand.

"Nothing gets by you, does it?"

She smirked.

"Nope. Well, that, and the fact that if a voice could kill, both Kallo and Gil would be bloody piles on the floor right now."

"That bad?"

"Oh yeah. Kallo keeps mumbling to himself and Gil is hiding in the engine room. I think he put up a 'Do Not Disturb' sign as well."

Ryder laughed and Vetra leaned in slightly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Any mirth that was in Ryder's expression disappeared in an instant. A darkness seemed to creep behind his eyes and root itself there. He stood up and opened his closet, pulling out an Initiative sweatshirt. As he put it on he muttered,

"There's not much to say honestly."

"You're a terrible liar Ryder."

"Maybe that's why I always lose at poker. Who'd of thought?"

Vetra stood up as well and positioned herself a few feet in front of him. Her arms crossed, a determined look on her face.

"Look Ryder. You told me, that even if things get rough, you'd never run out on me or leave me behind. I'm here to tell you the same. I want to help you. But you have to talk to me."

Ryder clenched and unclenched his fists nervously. He briefly contemplated telling the Turian to leave him alone and get out, but he realized that would just make matters worse. He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and let out a deep breath.

"I…I let those people die. Thousands of them. Men, women, children. I let them die and I don't know if I made the right choice. Maybe I should have done something different. Maybe I should have listened to the Kett Cardinal and left the exaltation facility standing. I don't know. But it has been eating at me ever since we got back from Voeld."

He walked towards the viewing window and looked out towards the tranquil gloom. Pinpricks of light twinkling as if in defiance of the shadows that attempted to engulf them. Vetra watched him quietly before speaking softly.

"It was an impossible choice Ryder. You did what you thought was right. What you thought was better in the long run. There was no 'right' call."

"The dead probably think differently."

Vetra closed the distance between them and looked out at the darkness with him.

"The dead don't think at all."

He turned to look at her with a weary expression.

"Well, Jaal definitely thinks differently. I don't think he's going to be giving me the 'person of the year' award any time soon."

Vetra's mandibles flared with anger and she placed her hands on her hips.

"Jaal isn't the Pathfinder. He doesn't have to make the tough decisions Ryder. You do."

He was surprised by the passion in her voice, but he appreciated it nonetheless. He made his way towards his door and waited for her to follow.

"Well, I appreciate that Vetra. Maybe you're right."

She gave him a sidewise glance and smirked.

"And don't you forget it."

He opened the door with a swipe of his palm and left his arm out as if to say 'after you.' She rolled her eyes and walked ahead of him into the hall.

"I guess I should probably go talk to Gil and Kallo…maybe let them know I'm not going to shoot them out an airlock. What do you think?"

Vetra chuckled and Ryder quickly joined her side.

"That's probably a good idea, Mr. Pathfinder."

She paused suddenly and it took Ryder a few seconds to realize Vetra had stopped walking. The smuggler struggled to find the right words before finally revealing what she was thinking.

"For what it's worth Ryder, I can't imagine anyone else as Pathfinder. And more than that…I wouldn't want to follow anyone else into the unknown."

A sense of warmth flowed through his gut and he gave the smuggler a smile that reached all the way to his eyes.

"Well, Miss Nyx, I wouldn't want anyone else looking out for me."

The smuggler's mandibles flared delicately, the movement giving away her pleasure at his words. Vetra did her best to hide it by pretending to scratch her face, but she was sure Ryder witnessed her reaction. In any event, he was gracious enough not to mention it, and they continued on their way.