No Lullabies for Ryders

Ch. 2 - The First Co-Conspirator

Sara hoped Liam would be ready for a rest given his recent work, but his delight over being home, along with its accompanying news, had him tossing the blanket off before their embrace could lull her to sleep. He bound out of the bed and began pulling his briefs and trousers back on, and Sara lay to watch the muscles roll up his back as he tugged the waistband into place.

"So," he started, bouncing on his toes. "Shall we call the gang and celebrate?"

Sara's eyes flitted to the ceiling, her mother's calm realism bubbling beneath. "I don't know, it's early yet. We don't know if..."

Miscarriages were still a law of nature. Even just a hundred years ago they were as common as one in nine. With so many in the Initiative starting their families now, they were about to get a pretty decent indication if that ratio held in Andromeda.

Liam hissed a little, though he, too, seemed reluctant to touch on that possibility. "That'll be hard. I'm not good with big news." Yeah, she knew. "How long, you think?"

"A couple more weeks? A month, maybe?" Sara rest a hand over her flat stomach thoughtfully as she watched Liam stalk around the couch as they talked, gathering their clothes into a loose pile on the end of the bed. "Doesn't mean we can't start preparing."

Their single room apartment didn't exactly stress their budget, but they'd opted to save instead of splurging on their first place; especially given the likelihood of rarely being "home". She'd even relinquished her rights to Alec's quarters to her brother. Scott still needed some time and space to adjust, after all.

But now, Sara found herself counting the few brief steps it took Liam to get from the bed to the little sitting area. Their tiled kitchenette took just a corner patch on the other side of the room, and a minimal washroom served as the only walled-off portion of the place. They'd have to give up the couch just to have space enough for a bassinette near their bed.

"This apartment is going to be full of stuff before the baby even arrives," she finally said, closing her eyes. "Scott will have to take over for awhile, if he feels up to it. Tann will probably have a field day- he'll use a pregnant Pathfinder as a milestone to our success...

"Shit," she continued after a moment. "I'm supposed to be chairing the adjudications for the new Pathfinder prospects! And we've got that project with Aya-"

"Okay, stop-" Liam interrupted her. He strode to her side and ripping the cover off her form, causing her to immediately curl up at the cool air. "Nope! If we stay here all night you're just gonna get in your head!"

Sara sat up with a pout, her ponytail flopping, askew. Liam tossed her shirt at her face with a soft whump. "Dress. You and I are going out."

"Liam-" she yanked the tanktop to her lap, face still twisted in weakening defiance.

"You're losing this one, Ms. Kosta." His sweater soon fell back over his well-formed torso, taking the promise of warmth, and a night in, with it. "Besides, I've just figured out who we're telling first."

Since the event that finally secured them victory (though colonization would always be a constant struggle), society more or less had leveled into optimistic jubilation. Though those of Meridian and beyond were still challenged daily, for months now, boisterous drinking parties swelled well into the night. Sara and Liam garnered little attention in the crowds as they walked, shoulder to shoulder, through the halls to the tramway. On the Hyperion, at least, people were familiar enough with their presence to let them go more or less undisturbed. Not that Sara usually minded, but she was obviously preoccupied this evening.

She let Liam take the lead, a boyish glee always lifting his steps when he thought he was surprising her. But she wasn't too terribly surprised when the tramcar stopped at the cryo bay. Moved, yes, but not surprised.

"Liam." She clumsily pawed his hand and he laced their weapon-worn hands together and lead her down the steps into the lab.

Harry was, of course, working. Thankfully, their visits weren't altogether unprecedented.

"Come to check on your buddy?" The doctor asked from his position near a huddled civilian.

"Oh yeah, career advice this time!" Liam tossed easily, tugging Sara along.

They didn't stop to talk, and once they rounded the corner to pod storage, she muttered under her breath. "You think he still buys that we're here to visit with one of your old chums?"

"Harry's got more important things to worry about. If he doesn't believe it, he hasn't pressed."

Sara shivered subconsciously just looking at the rows of pods still waiting to "arrive" in the new galaxy. She'd once thought it would only take a few years to wake everyone. Now, disease and turmoil had many sleeping away the present for a chance at a better future. It could be decades still until the Initiative could really support everyone. Would she live to see everyone awake? ...Would their child?

Liam wordlessly adjusted the settings until a case with the right -and wrong- name came to rest before them. He knew how to find it just as quickly as she now, and she smiled softly to herself.

"I'll... keep tabs." Liam wandered a few feet down, still within earshot, but enough to clear his throat before anyone could get close enough to hear her confess her darkest hopes and fears to a false moniker.

Oh, how it ached to know her mother lay mere inches away, behind a case of steel and polymer.

"Hey, mom," she breathed, daring to press a hand to the cover. "I..."

Sara reminded herself how much harder it would be if she couldn't tell her mother at all, if she had no hope of them meeting. But it seemed little comfort, sharing her first pregnancy with a mislabeled pod. She swallowed and tried again.

"For awhile, after I found out you were here, I... feared having to explain our circumstances to you. You were ready to go, but Dad... I know when you wake it'll be confusing. And to have to tell you that we took you from home, and about Dad's death, about... the danger Scott and I have placed ourselves in...

"I was scared of what I'd have to tell you when we make you better. That you would see how much we struggle sometimes. That Dad somehow stole your chance to pass at home, surrounded by family, filled with only encouraging thoughts of the future.

"But... things are changing. The colonies are becoming sustainable, the people are... excited..." Sara traced a pattern with her thumb, willing her emotion to steel. "Things are getting better. It's worth seeing. And... now I wish you were here so I could share it with you. So you could see Scott and I find our place. So you could meet Liam... So I could tell you you're going to be grandmother."

Sara loathed the tiniest crack in her voice. "Now I'm afraid of you finding out you missed the pregnancy... or the first few years."

Sorrow pooled in her stomach, sending Sara to lean on her mother's case to catch herself. "I really wish I could talk to you about this. So you could help me... feel ready. Now asking myself what you would do is all I can do."

Liam coughed a few moments before a technician darted past them to run some kind of diagnostic. Sara went quiet, subtly stepping away from the pod as if she'd only just stumbled, adjusting her clothing.

People came to visit all the time, so she wasn't scrutinized too much as she remained, her arms crossed silently, until the tech left again.

Still, Sara knew she needed to wrap it up. She hugged herself a little tighter, and peered at the thick door between her and her mother.

What would she do?

Get herself and the baby care. She couldn't allow her fear of the risks keep her from giving the baby its best chance. It wasn't about her comfort anymore.

Sara nearly laughed at how easily her mother's perspective shifted her own. It proved easier than she expected, imagining what her mother would say; organized, firm, if loving. She suddenly felt childish, and she pat the name plate of the hatch appreciatively.

"Heh, alright, mom."

She finally retreated, and pressed a few buttons on the nearby console to return the pod to the queue. She stayed and watched her mother drift out of reach, and her husband gravitated to her side to seek her hand once more.

"Have a nice talk?"

"Yeah."

Finally the Pathfinder tore her gaze from the rows and found welcome in a kind and affection smile that awaited her.

"Come on," Liam said, his brilliant grin churning her own. "Let's get that little bun a late night snack."

She snickered and he tucked her back into his side where she belonged as they made their way back to the station core.

After a simple, but pleasant late supper going over the details of their time apart, a full tummy and long day had Sara eager for the comfort of their bed. Liam didn't even bother slowing her, even going so far as to help her undress until she collapsed onto the mattress.

She mewled lazily until he crawled in after her, and she tossed about until she landed in proper place invading his personal space. He combed a hand over her hair with a chuckle, and the two found the most fitful rest of their last three months rather quickly.

To be honest, Sara hadn't thought far beyond Liam's return. When SAM woke her the next morning, she found herself a little disoriented and asking what day it was.

"The first batch of prospects are undergoing testing this morning, Ryder. Your attendance is required."

Sara wasn't at all concerned that most still used her father's name. 'Pathfinder Ryder' wasn't just her name anymore. It would go down history, whether she'd set out for it or not.

"Oh, shit!" Sara flailed to her feet, sending bedside trinkets flying. A plastic cup bounced off the wall and an Omnitool kit scattered noisily, stirring Liam with a groan. "Shit, shit, shit, shit."

"You have a few minutes, Sara." SAM announced as she scrambled to the short locker in which she stored her clothing.

"Not if I want coffee!" She literally hopped into pants, yanking them up over her hips before flopping back on the edge of the bed for socks.

"Medical files indicate caffeine can have unforeseen negative effects on a developing embryo."

"SHIT!" Sara ground through her teeth as she pulled a boot on. She paused to heave the bulk of her bedside mess back atop its perch, then forcefully shoved her other boot into place. She remembered hearing something about that once. She didn't think she'd need that information so soon.

"I need energy, SAM!" She rubbed at her eyes stubbornly, then stood to hunt for a top.

"I can prepare a temporary adrenaline boost, but it is not recommended for repeated use. It could have long term affects."

"Can't you just lower the melatonin?"

"You're pregnant, Sara. Your fatique is no longer due to one mechanism alone."

"Where you off to?" Liam's groggy words were laden thick with accent and it made her weak to the idea of crawling back in with him. She shook herself and instead drew close to him to kiss his forehead.

"Gotta get down to the sim-dome. First run of tests today."

"Mm, sounds fun. Want company?"

A sweet offer, but he still looked sleepy. And oh so sexy, she confessed to herself. Still, she brushed her lips over his before she answered. "Mm, not yet, I'm running late and we're still gonna have kinks in the system. Stop by this afternoon?"

His dreamy grin came with a heavy-lidded gaze. "You got it."

"Sara-"

"Yeah, I'm going."

Liam swatted at her ass as she rose to leave before he slumped back in bed. Sara nabbed her father's leather jacket and threw it over her shoulders on the way out, threading her arms through.

The new Simulation Dome sat, gleaming, in a field not far from the Hyperion. By now, the foot traffic wore a balding trail from the surrounding housing ships and buildings. It was still a small hike, to carry the weapons fire and training arena a safe distance from the rest of the population.

Thanks to the Ryders' influence with the Remant, and the integration of the new Angaran technology, the actual simulations evolved into a whole new level of realism. Sara and the other Pathfinders had gotten to test it in shakedown, and a part of her couldn't wait to see how it performed from an observer's view.

As she approached, she tried to imagine if her father would be proud of the dome's arcs and angles. Of the standards she hoped to instill. The sense of pride, and purpose, he'd left her. So much of their journey had felt like it had become about her. But in this, she would always see his legacy.

His training methods. His inspiring words carved over the entryway.

Her feet shuffled to a stop just outside. Just another hour or so and the prospects would come. Hopeful. Enthusiastic. With heroic aspirations. And she wanted to let them have that. But with a shuddering breath, she understood now why her father had been so hard on her. How easy it would have been to only see the stars and romance and not the sacrifice and devotion required. Perhaps she was a decent pathfinder. But she'd never be the teacher he was.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

A salarian voice startled her, and her hair whipped with a sharp turn of her head. Director Tann had taken position beside her, neatly suited as always.

"It paints quite the picture. A lot to aspire to."

The Director shifted to face her, pointedly. "It exists because we've earned it, Ryder. It's time to inspire."

Sara resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. She squared her shoulder, all business, and continued her trek to the front doors. "You'll never see what you can push yourself to do if someone always tells you anything is enough."

Words she'd never thought she'd repeat.

She left him outside, allowing herself the exasperated sigh she'd been hiding once the door closed behind her.

It seemed like most days, Sara felt trapped with politicians. A part of her position she hadn't anticipated; she grew restless and annoyed if kept indoors with diplomats too long. But training sims were as familiar to Sara and Scott Ryder as bunkrooms, or even their own original home on Earth. Almost every skill she possessed now had been ingrained into her to the joyful tune of her father's harsh orders and demanding expectations in a place much the same.

But this was so much cooler. Would it be unprofessional to take a run for fun?

"Ah, Pathfinder." Heskaarl Andraknor padded through the empty lobby toward her. "We were just gathering."

Sara met the back of his arm with hers, nodding in friendly greeting. "Andraknor. Are things all in order?"

"So far," the Angaran soldier replied. "We've managed to attract a great deal of applicants, even after first cut. We'll have to test in batches."

He gestured widely down a hall to their right, and she matched his gait as they wandered onward. "Oh? How many?"

"Three so far. We'll do one a day. Full Assessment Program, make our next selection, and then organize the remainder into groups by skill."

"Not by temperament?"

The Heskaarl seemed perplexed at the idea. "What would that change? You would risk team balance?"

"No, promote it. Some combinations of people perform greater than their parts."

"Perhaps after the first couple weeks we can rearrange groups. Once we've gotten a better sense of their temperament, as you say."

The corner of Sara's mouth curled in an amused smile. Was he attempting to tease her, or humor her?

The pair passed in and out of shadows and light as the outer windows lit their path along the outside curve of the oval, to the atrium they sought.

"The other Pathfinders have already arrived. Along with your military specialist. With the Heskaarl and N7 influence as well, we may have developed the most comprehensive training program seen by either of our species. A few of my own people have been invigorated by the challenge."

"Your people want to become Pathfinders?"

"There is much of our own worlds we have not seen since before the arrival of the Scourge," a regretful growl accompanied Andraknor's his words. "Reclaiming them will mean going into places and dangers no longer charted. And if we are to share this space, it follows we should all participate in its recovery."

Sara found herself pleasantly surprised. "Yeah... that sounds like a great idea!"

They came to the next set of doors, a list of the deceased Pathfinders hanging on a plague nearby. Sara absently ran a hand over the top of her hair to ensure its neatness, then stepped through to the room beyond.

An oblong reception area awaited them, a gleaming black and chrome altar-like table set horizontally in the center with the length of the room, and surrounding it, each of the Pathfinders. Their ex-Alliance officer, Chief Riggs, also stood, stoically at parade rest. She was only mildly aware of the action shots displayed brazenly on monitors behind them.

"Ryder," Avitus Rix spoke first. His turian voice had grown familiar. "It's good we all agreed to meet ahead of time. We've got some details to clarify."

"Okay?"

Captain Hayjer's lips melted from their firm line as he spoke next. "We've had a surprising amount of interest from our Angaran allies."

"Andraknor mentioned." Sara inclined her head.

"It was discussed that perhaps the Angara should have a customized version of our training, as they are not officially part of the Initiative. Their goals for their people may not always be simpatico with ours," Hayjer continued.

"No," Sara interjected. "If we start segregating now, it'll tell everyone that we don't entirely trust our new allies. We can't afford it. This is an opportunity to strengthen bonds, not test them."

"I agree," Vederia Demali nodded. "If we are to truly start something here, we cannot allow a year of suspicion to spark a culture of it."

"Any objections, then, to mixing them with the rest of the recruits?" Ryder queried, then quirked a brow to Riggs, who had so far been quiet. As a consultant to the program, he often saved his opinion until the Pathfinders asked for it. But she found he almost always had one.

The Chief's chin shifted discreetly from side to side, and none of the others felt strongly enough to argue; especially with Adraknor in the room, and as equal part to its design as any of them.

"Okay then. Next?"

Avitus cleared his throat with a short cough. "The Council believes it best that a Pathfinder host the tests."

"Host? How so?"

"Everything we've put it to place will keep this more or less self-sufficient. Andraknor will chair the Instructor team, Riggs has developed all the tactics and stress tests. The program is thoroughly established. But we'll still need a head for all the shifting parts," Vederia explained.

"We should all have a part. No one Pathfinder should have more influence than the others."

Silence greeted Sara's last declaration. Her companions looked between one another awkwardly.

"What?"

"While, that may be true, Ryder," Avitus explained, "for now, it isn't that simple. You've gotten us this far. From here on, you'll be sharing the load, but yours is the name most know, the reason most are here now. Our recruits want to hear from you."

More titles. More responsibility. "Not a good time," she blurted. Sara shifted her weight, trying to will her slight panic under control. "I mean, I should step back, shouldn't I? You are all worthy of your own recognition, and deserve the opportunity for it. Perhaps we could rotate who hosts each year?"

"A reasonable compromise," Hayjer conceded. "But I think we all agree that no one is better suited for our pilot year."

Sara blinked. If she were in their position she'd likely feel the same. But she didn't have just herself to worry about anymore. She couldn't promise to be constantly available for the foreseeable future.

"The engineering team that integrated the sim-tech, Kallus and Patil, are they on call today?"

"They're under the arena going over systems now," Andraknor supplied.

Sara took a deep breath. "Ask for one of them to volunteer to run the demonstration, and it would help a great deal. I think we can afford to delegate and let them take a larger role in the proceedings. Given where our duties may call us, we'll need to create some space so our presence isn't totally necessary to its operation.

"And... if you all think it's for the best, I will 'host' first. I still think we should all be present for orientation, however."

"Agreed," Avitus concurred.

"Director Tann has also... insisted on joining us today." Vederia added.

"He'll want to capitalize on it, of course." Sara tried not to sound annoyed. "But we're not here for him. Today, he's a tourist to our facilities like any other."

"Someone will want a statement."

"And they can get it from the Moshae and the Council. What it means to the colonies is not the same as what it will mean for our inductees. That's our concern." An awkward Turian smirk drew her attention. "What?"

"I met Alec Ryder only once, with Macen. They spoke for two minutes. And yet here you are, reminding me of him."

Sara felt heat rise to her cheeks. With each passing month, and as more people woke to the "new world", it seemed fewer and fewer knew of her father, or cared for her similarities to him. She never knew if she should be flattered, proud, or concerned.

"Chief Riggs," she changed the subject. "Are you still willing to commit to oversee the arena? I can't be sure I'll always be available in accordance with curriculum."

"Yes, Pathfinder." The Chief's eyes lingered on her for a moment. An unfamiliar squirm in her stomach caused Sara to swallow tightly.

"Alright, then. Let's find our engineers and direct Tann to his seat. This place is going to be full soon."

Please add to your Story Alert list so you can join us next time as the Pathfinders test the prospects in their new playground, and Sara finds her voice as a leader. But is it enough to hide the trepidation stirring underneath?