Prologue 3: The Citadel, 2182 CE

It was nearly two years before Commander John Shepard saw his sister again.

It was Thanksgiving and they had coordinated their leave to meet up on the Citadel before traveling together for holiday dinner with their mother on the Kilimanjaro. He had spent two years leading an elite marine squad of the 10th Frontier Division in a joint operation with the 6th Fleet to root out pirate bases and disrupt smuggling operations. The operation had been a resounding success, but he was still glad for the R&R while his new orders were processed.

Shepard stepped off the transport into the press of bodies bustling about the docking bays. He was thankful for his height, towering at 1.95m and allowing him to peer over the tops of most the throng, except for the Turians who towered over the press like himself.

"Jo-Jo!" a joyous squeal caught his attention and he spied his sister, in civvies, standing in a flower bed to get above the press. She was waving enthusiastically and shouting to get his attention over the din. Shepard grinned, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and started pushing through bodies to reach her.

He saw a Turian C-sec officer approach and speak with her, probably to get her out of the planter. His sister's growling response floated back, something that definitely wasn't English, but Shepard was too far away for his translator to it pick up. The C-sec officer looked thoroughly surprised and angry, as much as you could tell with a Turian face. His mandibles flared and it looked like they were heading for violence before Shepard managed to casually insert himself between the two.

He dropped his bag, wrapped his arms around his sister in a hug, and bodily pulled her off of the planter and back to ground level. He locked eyes on the Turian, daring him to make a move. His size and uniform seemed to do the trick for defusing the situation as the officer retreated, grumbling under his breath.

"Maggie - making friends as always I see." He greeted her warmly, putting a hand on her head and mussing her hair as he reached down and recovered his pack.

"I love cussing at Turians in Turian!" Maggie beamed proudly. "How was your flight?"

"Can't complain."

Maggie began to walk towards what he assumed was a taxi stand and he followed by her side.

"I got us a hotel room with a beautiful view of the Presidium! It's a little small, but separate beds," she continued as her fingers danced over her omni-tool. She flowed through the press of people smoothly without looking up. Shepard's mere towering presence seemed to clear a path for him.

"That should be fine," Shepard confirmed with a smile. "It can't be as bad as when Mom was stationed on the Leipzig."

"Oh, wow! The Leipzig. That brings back memories. Tiny as hell, the three of us hot racking that tiny bunk bed. But, I loved the prototype Thanix cannon."

Shepard rolled his eyes. "Yes yes. I remember. Six months that was all you talked about."

"You have no idea how handy that was."

"What was that now?"

She grinned up at him. "Sorry… classified."

"Brat."

"Missed you too."

It felt strange and alien to be in civilian clothes, but Maggie had insisted.

"It's not a vacation if you're in uniform!" she ordered and he acquiesced to her demands.

He didn't even bring any clothes outside of his uniforms, so after cleaning up at the hotel, there was shopping to be done. Afterwards, they explored the center of galactic civilization with a semi-interested air. Shepard took in the sights with polite attention, but Maggie was far more interested in the construction of the Citadel itself.

If he heard, "Please do not disturb the keepers" from the station VI one more time, he swore he couldn't be held responsible for his own actions.

"Maggie – just leave the space bugs alone before I have to call Mom for your bail money."

"But…" She began to protest, but he glared down at her with his "commander" face and she relented.

"Fine. I'm hungry anyway."

After a martini lunch, they took a guided tour of the Presidium that was incredibly educational. Shepard enjoyed the history of the Council and various tales of cultural assimilation much more than he anticipated, the alcohol probably helped. With the exception of the Turians, Maggie could have cared less.

Neither of them had really anticipated how big the station was and by the end of the tour Maggie was complaining of aching feet. They rested near one of the fountains. Maggie hurdled a railing and found a secluded grassy spot, underneath an alien tree with a small bench nearby. It was pristine, isolated, and peaceful. Maggie took off her shoes and dangled her toes in the water.

"You know, that's the station's drinking water," Shepard muttered, eyeing her from the bench where he sat.

"Ha! Really? My foot sweat will make it all the sweeter." She laughed and lifted a dripping foot, pointing it towards him. "Wanna taste?"

"Ugh. Put it back in. Not done yet."

They laughed and she returned her foot to the water, splashing happily while playing on her omni-tool.

"What are you doing?" he asked

"Sending a message to Solana."

"Your Turian friend?"

"Yeah."

"Tell her 'Thanks' for me."

"Eh? Why?"

"Well, she helped you when you were hospitalized on Palaven, right?"

"Oh. For that? Nah. She was just doing her job… She's got a brother here on the Citadel. He's in C-Sec."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. He sounds a lot like you – except without the boy-scout streak."

"Ha. Someday, you'll settle down with kids and a husband. And, you won't mind the boy-scouts so much."

"Riiiiiiight. The same day you spend more time with a girl than a rifle."

"Bite me."

"Love you too, Jo-Jo."

The two days on the Citadel went by faster than either of them could have imagined. They were scheduled to depart for the Kilimanjaro early the next day and decided to take a last stroll around a garden that was supposed to simulate the natural environment of Sur'kesh.

The garden, they learned, was an area for Council races. The Council took turns designing the flora and fauna and it was a relaxing, beautiful environment, despite the alien feel. Shepard and Maggie were walking the paths and talking together when Shepard's omni-tool beeped, demanding attention. He, as usual, ignored it.

"Aren't you going to check that?" Maggie asked, peering at his wrist.

"It can wait."

"But, it was marked Urgent."

"How do you know?" he asked accusingly.

"The tone of the alert. It's different when it's an Urgent message."

"Huh. I never noticed."

Maggie slapped her forehead. "I swear when it comes to technology you're a lost cause."

They fell silent for a minute and Maggie flicked her own omni-tool to life.

"Well, if you're not gonna check it, then I will," she threatened with a smile.

"Oh, hell no! You are not hacking my accounts again," he growled, grabbing at her wrist. She twisted and darted away, laughing.

"Oh, I totally am!" She jumped the edge of the path and jogged across the alien grass-like lawns as the Station VI reminded her to "Please stay on the path."

Her fingers flicked over the interface of her omni-tool like lightning. Shepard chased her to the edge of the path, frowning at the VI. She looked up from her omni-tool, meeting his eyes with a grin, daring him to come after her. Shepard narrowed his eyes.

Challenge accepted.

She spun a dime and ran into the garden at a sprint and Shepard cursed under his breath before running after her.

"Please stay on the path," repeated the VI.

"Oh, suck a goat!" Maggie hollered at the VI as she broke into an awkward run to keep ahead of her brother. Her pace was hampered by her fingers still moving on her omni-tool. Shepard easily overtook her and she zig-zagged ahead of him, wriggling out of grappling range. She was all laughter and taunts while Shepard pursued her with dogged determination.

He finally tackled her into the ground and they both tumbled laughing. The brief hand-to-hand sparring session ended as it always did. Maggie got in a few quick taps, but even her speed couldn't counteract her brother's size, reach, and training. In the end, Shepard screwed up Maggie's omni-tool arm behind her back and pinned her face down to the grass-like flooring with expert precision.

"Agh! Uncle uncle!" She squealed with laughter, wriggling against his grip. He released her arm and stood over her with a smug and satisfied smile.

"Ass." She muttered, smiling up at him as she rubbed her shoulder. "Frickin' advanced combat hand-to-hand training is not allowed in tag."

"How exactly am I supposed to not be trained?"

"Not my problem, you big cheater," she smirked. He was about to come up with some witty retort when her omni-tool beeped and she looked down at the display, ignoring him.

"You should really check your messages, John. You got your next posting."

He scowled.

"You got into my messages? That fast? Damnit, Mags!"

He would've continued but the strange and profoundly proud smile on her face stopped him. He sighed and lifted his wrist to look at his omni-tool. He took a moment to read and then shrugged.

"I guess I won't see Mom for Thanksgiving. I'm to report ASAP to the SSV Normandy."

"I know." Maggie looked up at him, that strange grin on her face growing even wider.

"I've never heard of the Normandy. But, Anderson requested me," he muttered, offering a hand to help her back to her feet. She took it and she bounced excitedly as he pulled her up.

"I know," she repeated. Her grin threatened to pull her face in half.

"Anything you'd like to share?" he asked skeptically, eyeing her.

"No," she chirped happily.

"Brat." He muttered, nudging her back to the path.

"Love you too – now go get packed."