W/N - I'm trying to weave in the action and the character development. We'll see a bit of the other teammates and even hear a bit from Hartmann. And, there's always a guy in every crowd who has to one up you. Thank you very much for all of the attention and ideas. Codex at the bottom.

I got my N7 banner in multiplayer!

In the Bush – 04 March 2176, 0647 hours

Claire woke up shivering, grit and sand in her mouth and dried seawater covering her face that had become a crusty film on her skin. Her clothes were still soaking and a dark, empty pit had developed in her stomach. It was still manageable, but in another 24 hours it would be…well, it wouldn't be pretty. Some of the others were just stirring. She took one of the bottles of water and took a long drink, swishing it around in her mouth. Nearby, Amanda was wiping her eyes and then she looked over. "Hey, we better get going. We're all tired and there's a long way to go and we have no idea what's in store for us."

Their teammate, Kim, a big Korean from Pyongyang, stretched his burly arms and snorted. "Hah, that swim was nothing. I do that back home for fun. And Hartmann, he don't scare me. I say bring it on," he said, pushing his chiseled chin forward.

Amanda just rolled her eyes and the team gathered up the supplies and wrung out their wet clothes as best as they could. LaRosa handed out tiny mouthfuls of trail mix to everyone and Claire practically inhaled her ration, but it was like feeding a chicken nugget to a hungry bear. Still, she was grateful for even this small morsel. As they turned to go, she took a last look out towards the surf. They were damn lucky they didn't drown last night – the ocean was rough with some waves topping eight feet. Still, she couldn't help but admire the raw natural beauty of the scene, deep blues covered in white sea foam under a cloudy gray sky.

"Don't you just love the call of the gulls?" It was Adam.

"I was a spacer kid. Grew up on ships. It's not something I'm use to."

"San Diego for me. Gulls and sealions everywhere I looked. I love the ocean."

She nodded, looking off into that endless blue, the vastness of the sea making her feel small and insignificant. It was a feeling that she found surprisingly pleasant. Somewhere that she could hide and never be found. "Hey Adam, you think my dad would forgive me if I just sat down here and didn't return with you guys? You know, they could just drop off the bell here on the beach and I'd ring it."

"I'd be tempted to join you. We could do a little fishing, harvest some coconuts…eh, wouldn't be bad at all."

Claire pointed a little way down the beach. "There, that would be our shack. No vids, no comms, no pressure. Maybe I'd write a letter home from time to time, throw it out to sea in a bottle."

"Hah, that I'd love to see. I'd need something to talk to my folks with from time to time. My dad, he's my rock. Doesn't say much about the war, but when he talks, I listen."

"What did he do there?" This time the interest was genuine.

"He was one of the marines under David Anderson's command. They came in fast and hard back on Shanxi, hit the turians where they least expected it. The birds completely underestimated us. I can tell that my dad has a lot of pride in what he did and he speaks glowingly of Commander Anderson. God, that was the one thing he could go on for hours about."

Claire wondered for a moment what it would be like to have a conversation with her father…a real conversation. She imagined a scene over breakfast, drinking coffee and eating eggs over easy with toast. He was wearing a yellow golfing sweater as he buttered the bread. Hi dad, how's the weather? The whole scene collapsed after that droll intro, but that was all she could come up with for her fantasy bucolic life. What would they actually talk about if they ever did sit down? Projections of turian military expansion? Psyops targeting batarian extremists? Yeah, that was about it.

"I would…I would enjoy meeting your father one day," she said as she picked up grains of sand in her fist and then let them fall away.

"I think I would enjoy meeting yours."

She smiled and shook her head. "No you wouldn't," she said as she stood. "We should really get going as much as I would prefer to just lie down in the sand." The allure of having no pressure, no one telling you what to do or no responsibilities was nearly overwhelming.

He rose and hefted the bag of supplies over his shoulder. "Yeah, we better make the most of our daylight."

As they fell in with the rest of the team, Claire looked up, closed her eyes, listened carefully and inhaled the scent of the ocean breeze. "And, to answer your question, yes, I love the call of the gulls."

They trudged into the jungle, the Brazilian sun beginning to warm things up. Autumn would soon give way to winter down in the southern hemisphere and it would be getting a bit colder, but for now, Claire appreciated the warmth. Here, she could almost taste the musky dampness of the jungle as insects hummed and birds called nearby. LaRosa hacked through the thick undergrowth and the team automatically assumed a tactical formation, evenly spaced and not too close together, eyes scanning every quadrant. They had been through enough to do this without being told. It would be too easy to let their guard down now. After all, Hartmann had told them to expect anything.

A few hours into the trek, LaRosa wiped his dirt smudged brow and pulled out the map again. "Hey, I didn't see this before. I think it's a waypoint," he said as he sat on the jungle floor that was carpeted in fallen leaves. He placed the map on the ground and picked up a tiny stick, pointed it at a marking on the map. Claire looked over his shoulder and could see a red X on the map near the coast. "Okay, I think we're here," Adam said, indicating a spot in the jungle. "We've been walking northwest according to the sun." He pulled out the compass and handed it to Yuri Androv, the wiry kid from Kiev. "Here, take a reading."

Yuri hooked the compass ring on his thumb and began turning slowly in a circle. "If only we had my compass back at the barracks," he said in perfect English. "It's far better than this one. I mean look at it, just a ring and a needle. Mine has the GPS function, heart rate monitor-"

Claire shot him this look with part of her lip curled up with teeth bared and he stopped short.

"Okay," Yuri said as he looked away, "This is north. If we're here on the map, we need to walk about five miles at an azimuth of three zero zero. You guys are lucky you had me here. Maybe it's actually three zero one, but I'm sure my readings will get us there."

"That's not too far," Amanda said hopefully.

Kim seized the compass and held it up. "Here, give me that," he said as he shook his head. "Do I need to do everything?" He spun the compass rose and watched the needle settle. Then, he looked down at the map. "In this jungle, five miles could take us the rest of the day."

And it did.

In the Bush – 04 March 2176, 2002 hours

Night was drawing deeper with the odd sounds of jungle animals and insects growing louder by the minute. Claire found the noises a little strange, but found no fear in the din. After all, they were special forces candidates and not high school students on a campout full of made up horror stories. The one thing that did concern her though was the chill that was creeping in and the gnawing hunger in her gut. They each had another handful of trail mix just after dark, but that wasn't nearly enough to keep up with her caloric needs.

With just the dim glow of one lumistick to guide them, she could see a clearing up ahead. They entered cautiously, observing for any sign of life or any threat. Amanda took point, creeping out ahead of the team, keeping low to the ground and scanning the area. Just at the edge of any light, she took a knee and looked back, making signals with her hands. What she signed was universal to any Alliance tactical team and the group understood it immediately – there was a structure up ahead and it was occupied. She signaled for LaRosa and Shepard to advance. They left the lumistick with Androv and crawled forward, barely making a sound.

"What do we have?" Claire asked in a whisper as they crouched in the tall grass.

"Single story building made of concrete," Amanda said, pointing into the darkness. "I saw one, maybe two flashlights going on and off."

LaRosa peered in that direction. "Yeah, I saw a beam for a sec. Well, we're in the right place so this is part of the training evolution. What do you think?"

"Okay," Amanda whispered. "I'm point so I'll move ahead and get confirmation on the objective. You guys wait for my signal. You two should flank right and the others flank left." She was all professional confidence. It didn't sound like this was her first dance.

LaRosa nodded. "That's good," he said and it sounded like he was glad to have the decision fall from his hands. He let out a deep sigh of relief as Amanda crept forward.

Shepard had to admit that Amanda was lithe and light on her feet. The marine practically slithered like a snake up to the building, never making a sound. She stopped at an open window and then slid up just so she could see in. Shepard's breath stopped in her throat and she wiped a sweaty palm on her pants. Amanda turned back and made some hand signs.

One man down inside, not moving. Mission appears to be rescue.

LaRosa looked over to Shepard, his face barely visible in the dark. "Okay, what do we do?"

Claire wondered for a moment how they put him in charge over her. She turned back to Androv and the others and waved them forward, giving them a signal to flank left. Without waiting for Adam, she crawled forward and then to the right, letting him scramble to catch up. She made eye contact with Amanda and the marine gave her more signals.

I'm going in to extract the victim once everyone is in place. Cover me.

Shepard nodded. She wanted to be the one to go, but she had to admit that Amanda was good, someone who could lead. Claire and Adam moved into position while the others went around the left side of the building. They sat for a moment before Amanda signed that she was going in.

Shepard peered in through a side window and could see a dim light from a glowstick that lay near a prostrate figure. She gripped the sill tightly as Amanda inched forward, her head turning slowly from side to side, her eyes big as saucers. Who knew what would happen? The marine stopped and knelt down by the form and looked it over before picking up a data pad on the ground.

"All clear," Richardson said. "Come on in."

Both Shepard and LaRosa blew out a sigh of relief. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. The team entered the building as Amanda rolled the body over.

"It's a mech," Claire said. "So, what's the data pad say?"

"You have captured a high-value asset from hostile forces. Enemy units will attempt to effect a rescue. Defeat all rescue attempts and extract the asset. Here, take a look, the coordinates are given."

Kim tried to take the pad, but Amanda pulled her hand away. "Hey, sit your ass down until I'm done." Kim gave her a look with one eye narrowed, but he did as he was told.

Amanda pursed her lips and looked back down to the pad. "Okay, if there is no further interruption, it says that we will find a pack…right over here," she said and looked under some matting on the floor. She pulled out a backpack and opened it up. She gave everyone a big grin and began tossing power daggers to people. "These won't harm a person, but they'll sure zap a mech. I think I know what's in store for us."

Shepard caught the dagger by the handle and made a few practice cuts and thrusts with it. It felt good, light and well balanced like the Fairbain-Sykes that she liked to carry with her on duty, a gift from her mother. "So," she began, "do we hold this defensible position or do we make for the extraction point and take our chances?

In the Bush – 04 March 2176, 2132 hours

"So, what do you do?" Master Chief Hartmann asked the monitor that showed the scene unfolding in the building. He took a sip of coffee from a black mug that had the silver emblem of the sword, Excalibur, with golden wings, the symbol of the elite N's. He swung his chair around to another monitor in the training command post that showed a stack of dormant mechs. "Grimaldi, power them up, level three. They need a challenge. We'll frag their candy asses."

"Level three? Okay, got it, boss." Grimaldi rolled his chair forward to a rack of consoles and began pressing his finger on the touchscreens.

"And set in the batarian ROE. They need a little realism."

"Oh, that's sadistic." Grimaldi's finger slid over another touchscreen and then he laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back as green lights came on over the picture of each mech on the monitor. "So boss, what do you have against this class? Just asking. I mean, the last group we put through hell, but we've given these guys extra attention."

Hartmann pulled the brim of his blue ball cap down just over his bushy eyebrows. "When this gang gets spaced I don't want it coming back to me. I don't want anyone to say that my hallowed halls turned out a bunch rejects just because the brass told me to shuffle them through," he said without looking over. Yeah, he had gotten a few calls from a few admirals.

"I hear you, boss, but the brass say they need more N's out there. You know, good for the morale of the grunts."

This time Hartmann turned. "And that's the damn problem with the Alliance," he said as he stabbed his finger out. He pulled out a worn green notebook from his pants pocket and tossed it on the table in front of Grimaldi. "Take a look."

Grimaldi picked it up, a curious look on his face. "What, no data pad? You're old school, chief. Hey, these are some names from the last few classes. So what?"

"Dead. We didn't…I didn't give them enough when they were here. I let them down and I damn well won't do that to this bunch. They deserve more. When they leave…if they leave, every fucking batarian and pirate will tremble at the sight of them."

A cautious smile escaped Grimaldi's lips under his handlebar mustache. "So wait, you actually think this Shepard girl's going to amount to something?"

Hartmann scoffed. "Hah, that remains to be seen," he said, but he had seen something. She was a diamond in the rough, but every diamond was once a lump of coal.

The door to the command post opened and another of the cadre entered. "Grimaldi…boss." It was Powers. "Is the show about to begin?"

The chief waved him to a chair. "Yeah, have a seat. It looks like they're going to make for the extraction. Bold move."

Powers swung a chair around and sat in the reverse position, the chair back to his chest. "This'll be good. I remember this shit from my go in the Vila." He reached over to the rack of mugs and pulled a white one with a black C facing downwards and poured himself some coffee. "So, Grimaldi, you gonna get out and join that wetwork company, what do they call it…Cerberus?"

"You know, I'm thinking about it. They treat their people right. Lot's of opportunities for us SF types. You should think about it too."

Powers looked at his mug. "Yeah, they're really rolling out the red carpet for us – weapons, tech and the swag, always gotta love the swag."

Hartmann waved his hand, bringing all conversation to a halt. "Okay, shut up. Show's starting."

CODEX:

Fairbain-Sykes – dagger of the British commandos

ROE – Rules of Engagement

Swag - trinkets