Author's Note:

What's up everyone! I hope that you are all doing well. I know that I have been gone for a little bit, and for that I apologize. This chapter kind of got away from me and I just couldn't stop working on it. Which, I guess turned out to be in your benefit, as this chapter is a pretty sizeable chunk of content (it's also the longest chapter I've ever written).

I hope it gives you something satisfying to chew on!

Again, I just want to thank everyone that has taken the time to read my story. Also, to everyone that has favorited, followed, and reviewed my piece, you guys/gals are awesome. It really means a lot to me.

Enjoy the new chapter and I'll see you in the next update!

… … … … … …

The crew of the Tempest slumbered peacefully as Kallo sat alone at the helm of the ship. Aside from the dull hum of the drive core, and the sporadic chirping of navigational alerts, the bridge was deathly quiet. He checked the time on his omni-tool and watched as the display shifted from 0312 to 0313. It had literally only been a minute since he last checked the clock and Kallo sighed heavily. Three more hours of mind numbing silence before Suvi awoke and relieved him of his post. Kallo despised down time and absolutely dreaded the night shift. As a salarian, his mental faculties operated at an accelerated pace and a lack of tasks to complete or projects to work on forced him to slow down.

"It's unnatural," he said to himself, complaining to deaf ears as the stars twinkled indifferently beyond the observational glass. He watched a comet flash brilliantly in and out of existence against the inky darkness. "This should be considered cruel and unusual punishment."

Although he took his job as the pilot of the Tempest quite seriously, the salarian often found it difficult to focus when covering a double rotation. During regular hours, the hustle and bustle of the Pathfinder's duties usually kept himself and the crew on their toes; they were often hard pressed to find a quiet moment when occupied with Initiative business.

He checked the time again. 0315. His head fell back against the top of the pilot's seat and he groaned like a petulant child.

"Kill. Me. Now."

Kallo had begun to seriously contemplate the merits of launching himself out of the airlock when he heard the door to the bridge hiss open.

"Oh, thank goodness Suvi. You're kind of early, but I was going out of my mind with boredom," he said without turning around. A deep yawn escaped him and Kallo wiped an errant tear away from his large orb of an eye. "There is literally nothing going on. So I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to read another book about rocks."

The pilot smirked to himself as he stood from his chair and stretched. Kallo turned around, prepared to make another joke at Suvi's expense, but surprise silenced him when he noticed that she had not been the one to enter the bridge.

With a wild demeanor, Ryder rapidly closed the distance between the entrance and where Kallo stood. He walked passed the pilot as if he did not exist and began to frantically activate the navigational controls of the galaxy map. Kallo took notice of the manic expression that occupied the Pathfinder's features and felt unsure of how to respond.

It had been less than a day since both Suvi and Kallo witnessed Ryder's dazed return to the Tempest. Despite their insistence to know if the Pathfinder was alright, no satisfactory explanation had been provided to either of them as to why he had shown up covered in blood. Lexi had repeatedly assured them that Ryder was fine and that whatever was going on was under control, but Kallo remained skeptical. Suvi trusted Lexi implicitly while he harbored a sneaking suspicion that the truth remained elusive. As a matter of principle, secrets made him nervous.

"Uh…Ryder?"

The pilot received no response as the Pathfinder continued to zoom in and out of locations on the Galaxy Map. Whatever he was doing, it was clear that Ryder was actively searching for a specific location. Kallo warily moved closer towards the console that Ryder occupied.

"Pathfinder," he asked, his words laced with trepidation, "what's going on?"

Though it was clear that Ryder was wholly focused on whatever he was doing, Kallo had not expected to be completely ignored. He awkwardly hovered a few feet behind the Pathfinder, waiting for an answer that would not come. For a moment the pilot considered poking Ryder's shoulder to get his attention, but quickly thought better of it. The Pathfinder was his commanding officer after all.

After several more minutes of silence, he had resigned himself to the fact that Ryder wouldn't be gracing him an answer any time soon. Taking the initiative, Kallo called out to the ship's AI.

"SAM?"

It was only a moment before the AI's disembodied voice quietly reverberated within the interior of the bridge. "Hello, Kallo. How may I be of assistance?"

"What is he doing?" Kallo asked as he glanced back towards Ryder.

"The Pathfinder is attempting to set a course for Habitat-Seven," the AI explained as Ryder typed a set of coordinates into the navigational controls.

Kallo frowned with confusion, "But the field reports clearly indicated that Habitat-Seven is unstable. From what I can remember, travel is highly discouraged by Initiative leadership."

"You are correct on all accounts," SAM confirmed.

The pilot's brow furrowed even further as he failed to understand Ryder's motives. As far as Kallo could tell, Habitat-Seven was a no-go zone.

He looked back at Ryder as the Pathfinder jammed his finger against the control panel. Every impact was met with an error alert that looped infinitely as he stubbornly attempted to force the galaxy map to cooperate. Each press of the activation button was punctuated by a hiss of frustration as the program refused to plot the desired course.

Finally, after several more futile attempts, Ryder bellowed with irritation. "God dammit! SAM, what the hell is wrong with the map?"

"Investigating Pathfinder, please standby," SAM said, his level intonation a stark contrast against Ryder's fiery countenance.

An uneasy air settled over the bridge as Kallo and Ryder waited for the AI to finish running his diagnostics. No small talk or pleasantries were exchanged while SAM worked. In an effort to fill the quiet, Kallo hummed an old salarian folk tune. Despite his horribly off key rendition, Ryder still failed to acknowledge the pilot's presence. For all intents and purposes Kallo may as well have been invisible.

Ryder adjusted his ridged posture and braced his weight against the hand rail separating the galaxy map from the piloting area. His finger drummed against the metal siding impatiently and he tapped his toe to the same restless rhythm. It had been several hours since SAM's chilling revelation that his father's remains had been left behind on the now defunct 'Golden World.'

In that time, Ryder had paced the equivalent of several miles within the confines of his quarters. No matter how hard he tried to relax, his mind refused to stop spinning.

He knew it was irrational, but Ryder felt betrayed. Everything just felt wrong.

In the logical part of his mind, he recognized that there had been little choice in the matter. Given the rocky circumstances, and the unforeseen chaos, it was either leave the body behind or get swarmed by the recently discovered kett.

When the mantle of Pathfinder had been hastily transferred to himself, the leaders of the Andromeda Initiative agreed that his father's death was a tragedy. Even so, when compared to the possible destruction or capture of an entire Ark, it barely measured up in their abstract calculations. For all of his father's accomplishments and commendations, despite all of his hard work and sacrifice, he was little more than an unfortunate casualty.

Regardless of the rationalization, a deep resentment settled in the pit of his stomach. Ryder had a difficult time determining who he begrudged more.

On one hand, Nexus leadership had failed to authorize a recovery mission and had basically brushed the entire issue under the rug. Out of sight out of mind as it were. On the other hand, the kett were ultimately responsible for the circumstances that led to his father's end. It was kett signal jammers that made radio communication difficult and it was kett soldiers that forced them to have to evacuate so quickly.

"It's all just fucked up," Ryder said to himself, his voice a low growl.

Kallo spared him a worried look. He almost asked the Pathfinder what he meant, but quickly decided against it. Hostility radiated out from Ryder in almost tangible waves. The further removed from Ryder's attention he was, the safer Kallo felt.

A small sigh of relief escaped the pilot when SAM's calm voice finally broke the tense atmosphere. "I have discovered the problem Pathfinder."

Ryder straightened from his leaning position and planted his hands against his hips.

"Fantastic. How long will it take to fix?"

"It is not something that can be fixed, Pathfinder."

Several moments of painful quiet followed as Ryder ruminated on what he had just heard. Kallo took a few steps towards the door in the name of self-preservation.

"What does that mean?" Ryder asked, his voice suddenly very calm and level. The sudden shift surprised Kallo. If anything, it actually made him more nervous. Suspecting an eruption from the Pathfinder he inched ever closer to the access panel.

Without skipping a beat, SAM responded with his usual collected cadence.

"The coordinates for Habitat-Seven have been locked out by an Initiative administration clearance code."

"So what? My Pathfinder credentials should give me clearance to basically anywhere."

"Unfortunately, they do not cover this access level. To override the lock-out, you require a clearance rating given only to Initiative Directors."

A deep scowl invaded Ryder's features and he clenched his teeth together. The muscles in his neck strained against the added pressure. "I see. Well, thank you SAM."

"My pleasure, Pathfinder."

Ryder stood motionless, his gaze focused on the ground as his expression remained contorted by a dark grimace. Kallo stood with baited breath. He could almost feel the heat of the Pathfinder's rage prickling against his skin. The seconds ticked by with unbearable slowness and the anticipation caused his heart to pound nervously against his rib cage. A silent minute passed. Ryder exhaled slowly and clenched his fists together. Kallo gasped for air when he realized he was holding his breath.

Suddenly, Ryder turned and marched towards the door. The pilot instantly pressed himself against the wall in an effort to remain out of the way. To his dismay, the Pathfinder stopped directly in front of Kallo's position and spoke without looking at him.

"Set a course for the Nexus. I expect us to be there by noon. Get it done."

Ryder swiped the access panel and opened the door. Before Kallo could muster up the courage to inquire about the reasoning for their detour, the door had already slammed in his face. Put out by the abrupt end of communication, but seeing no other alternative, he reluctantly resumed his position at the pilot's seat.

As he worked on setting up the proper coordinates and prepping the necessary docking codes for the Nexus' security procedures, the bridge door opened once more. Expecting Ryder to walk through the entrance again, Kallo did his best to look completely focused on his work. Faint footsteps pricked at the periphery of his hearing.

The collar of his shirt suddenly felt far too constricting.

He continued typing out the necessary information into the ship log, but his nervousness caused his fingers to stumble. After every other word he had to go back and rectify his typos. Just as quickly as they had started, the footsteps died near his chair. Whoever had entered the bridge was standing right behind him. He gulped. The trembling in his hands refused to stop. Unable to continuing typing without creating a mess, he simply stared at the screen and waited with bated breath.

"Hey Kallo, what're you doin'?"

Suvi's jovial voice broke through his mental fog and Kallo almost fell out of his chair in relief. They may have disagreed on a lot of things – most things if he was being honest – but the Tempest's chief science officer was a welcome reprieve from the wilting pressure of Ryder's presence. When he spun his chair around to look at her face, pleasantly dimpled by a friendly smile, her expression became slightly concerned.

"Are you feeling well? You look ill," she said, instinctively placing the back of her hand against Kallo's forehead.

"Oh yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said as he shook his head away from her touch, "I'm just tired. The night shift is always killer, you know?"

Suvi nodded in agreement. No one enjoyed the night shift.

Taking a sip of her tea, she lounged comfortably in the co-pilot's seat as Kallo did his best to focus on the screen in front of him. To his chagrin, his nerves had gotten away from him. He chuckled condescendingly at himself. Give him an asteroid field with zero visibility and an almost non-existent drop zone and he was cold as ice. Regardless of the obstacles, his calm never broke.

Kallo pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. It irritated him to no end that he could handle near death scenarios but he failed to stand resolute when confronted with the Pathfinder.

In an effort to distract himself, he directed his focus towards his co-pilot. "What are you doing up so early anyway? It's three in the morning, you don't start until six."

She shrugged impassively. "Dunno, couldn't sleep I guess," Suvi said as she stifled a yawn. "Figured I might as well do something productive rather than toss and turn in my bunk."

With a sigh, he slumped in his chair. "Suvi, since you're up do you mind taking over a little early? I'm exhausted."

The science officer looked at him over the top her mug with an amused expression.

"Awe, is the pilot shweepy?" she asked in a babying tone. A small smirk creased her lips as Kallo eyed her with an annoyed gaze. Suvi laughed and waved him off. "Go on, get some sleep. I can take over from here; before you go, is there anything I should know?"

Besides the fact that the Pathfinder is losing it? He thought to himself.

Rather than speak his mind, Kallo shook his head. "No, nothing to report. The Pathfinder expects us docked at the Nexus by noon today. Beyond that, we're in the clear."

"Okay," Suvi said with a nod, "did Ryder say why we're going back to the Nexus? We were just there a few days ago."

"He didn't. Honestly, he didn't seem to be in a talking mood."

Suvi sipped her tea thoughtfully before speaking. "Do you think it has anything to do with what happened yesterday? Whatever made him…" she trailed off before continuing, "like that?"

The implication was not missed by Kallo. Ryder's bloody and gore riddled entrance had left quite the impression with the two of them. "It is very possible. Honestly, I don't know, and quite frankly, I don't want to know. I dealt with enough mental breakdowns in the Milky Way to want to have deal with another one."

She tilted her head with a confused expression. "What do you mean? He may be a little more intense than usual, but Ryder seems to be all there," Suvi retorted, tapping her temple for emphasis.

"Back in the Milky Way, I had friends in STG. They saw serious action and they did things that they refused to talk about. All I know is that my friends changed. The pressures of the job got the better of them, and who they were was taken over by who they became." Kallo sat up in his seat just a fraction and met Suvi's attentive gaze. "I could be wrong – I really hope that I am – but certain things are way too similar to be coincidence."

Suvi chewed on her thumbnail reflectively. As Kallo collected his things and headed towards the exit, she spoke in defense of the Pathfinder.

"An important lesson you learn through research is that correlation does not equate causation. We need more data to prove one way or the other." Before Kallo could argue against her thoughts, she appealed to their shared experience, "I know that Ryder's return was a shock. When he first arrived, I was speechless. I could barely remember my own name." Suvi visibly shivered at the mental image, "But, we should give him the benefit of the doubt. He may have his moments, but Ryder hasn't led us astray so far."

It took every ounce of maturity Kallo possessed not roll his eyes. Suvi was clearly an optimist. He was very much a realist.

"We'll see," he said, his tone revealing an obvious lack of confidence in her assessment. With a wave of farewell, Kallo stepped out of the bridge and closed the door behind himself.

Suvi sat alone amongst the dim light of the piloting controls, contoured by pale rays of distant starlight. Picking up where Kallo had left off, she worked on finishing the ship log, preparing the proper docking codes, and plotting the shortest route back to the Nexus. As she waited for the drive core to cycle through its routine diagnostics, Suvi reflected upon what Kallo had said before he left. Though she may have agreed with some of what he expressed, she still thought he was wrong to doubt the Pathfinder.

"You just need to have faith," she proclaimed with conviction, speaking to no one but the shadows and the stars.

… … … … … …

Vetra sat cross legged on her cot, bleary-eyed from a lack of decent sleep. The night had been cursed with bouts of restlessness and an inability to get comfortable. Swearing unintelligibly under her breath, she blamed SAM for her troubled evening. Having listened to the AI's thorough breakdown of all that had transpired while on Kadara, Vetra struggled to sort through her conflicted emotions. It did not surprise her that Ryder had killed the outlaws and executed their leader. Considering what she, Drack, and Ryder had witnessed in the bunkhouse-from-hell, it was a foreseeable conclusion. There was no getting around the wrong that needed to be made right.

When she really thought about it, it was not the violence itself that troubled her. Truth be told, violence had become just an everyday part of life for the Pathfinder team. As SAM described – in perfect detail – the brutal thrashing that had been inflicted upon the outlaw leader, Vetra shivered despite the warmth of her quarters. It was not the cruelty itself that sent a chill down her spine, but the knowledge that Ryder had been the executor of such brutality.

Rather than be troubled with the action itself, she was more concerned with the changes in her friend. For the time that she had known Ryder, he had proven himself to be a good person. Perhaps a little rough around the edges at times, but decent at his core nonetheless.

Thanks to SAM's symbiotic connection to the Pathfinder's mind, all of the thoughts and emotions that coursed through Ryder in that regrettable moment were laid bare. It was obvious that something was wrong. Although Vetra had suspected something was awry for quite some time, it had only ever been a suspicion. Once again, her instincts were proven true. From what she could gather through SAM's retelling, Ryder's rage stemmed from something deeper within himself.

Never one to sit on her hands, Vetra was determined to understand the 'why' of it all.

A deep yawn clawed its way out of Vetra's system and she stretched languidly. Unfortunately, detective work would have to wait until she was confident that she would not spontaneously pass out while standing up. With her arms extended lazily above her head, she flumped upon her worn mattress and stared tiredly at the ceiling, tracing the tiny contours and imperfections as she lost herself in thought. While she may not have understood the source of Ryder's pain, she now possessed enough information to at least broach the subject of Kadara with him.

"It's as good a place to start as any," she said to herself. If what SAM said was true, that Ryder needed help that only she could provide, Vetra was more than happy to drop everything and do what she could.

Because that's what friends do, she proclaimed internally, reassuring herself that the rest of the crew would do the same given the opportunity.

Though deep down, she was not quite convinced.

Turning to rest on her side, exhausted by all of her wandering thoughts, she curled her legs into her chest. Craning her neck ever so slightly to look past the screwdriver that obscured the digital display of her clock, she realized to her horror that it was 11:45 in the morning. Vetra stuffed her face into the cushion of her pillow with an exasperated groan and attempted to will herself into a coma.

There were no pressing missions that needed her attention nor any ration requests that the rest of the crew needed re-filling. For all intents and purposes, today was her day off, and she was determined to enjoy it.

Just as the tension in her body seemed to melt away, and the cozy blanket of unconsciousness smothered her in a comfortable cocoon, a voice called her name and dragged her back into reality. Vetra did her best to stifle the threatening growl that attempted to escape her throat. She took a few deep breaths and huffed with frustration before answering whoever had so rudely interrupted her.

"What?" she demanded, her tone less than inviting.

"I apologize, Vetra. I did not mean to wake you."

Vetra pressed her palms into her eyes. "What's going on SAM?" she asked a little more kindly than before.

The blue orb projected itself from a console on her desk and she squinted at the cobalt light that radiated from the hologram. "It would seem that the Pathfinder is about to do something rash."

She sat up and eyed SAM's display with keen interest. "What do you mean by 'rash'?"

A low hum emanated from the floating sphere as it darkened into a dull indigo.

"Ryder desires a security clearance that only Initiative Directors possess. Should his request be denied, I worry that Ryder may do something regrettable."

Her curiosity had been piqued. "What kind of clearance are we talking about?"

"It provides access through upsilon level system-lockouts. Pathfinder credentials only bypass omicron level access points," SAM explained, his perpetually calm tenor a poor barometer of his true concern.

While she listened to the AI talk, Vetra had taken the opportunity to strip out of her sleep clothes and pull on her usual travel attire. The worn leather of her jacket fit like a glove as she shrugged her arms through the sleeves. With a few deft twists, her scarf was wound snuggly around her neck.

"Alright, and why does he want this clearance so badly?"

"It pertains to his father, the previous human Pathfinder."

Vetra only knew of Ryder's father by vague association. Aside from what the official Nexus records revealed – the classified portions notwithstanding – the man was very much an enigma. From what she had heard through the grapevine, he had died soon after coming to Andromeda. Though the details had been altogether fuzzy.

"So, I take it you want me to make some excuse to tag along with Ryder and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"

There was short pause before SAM answered, "Essentially."

She beamed at SAM's confidence in her abilities and gave the glowing ball a thumbs up. "Don't worry, I have a little sister; I'm well trained in keeping other's out of trouble."

… … … … … …

Ryder waited impatiently on the bridge as Suvi and Kallo collaborated with Nexus security to complete their docking procedure.

"For being a Pathfinder team, we sure do have to jump through a lot of hoops just to land," he said, absentmindedly rubbing the patchy fuzz on his chin.

Suvi looked back from her seat as she continued typing in the proper docking codes. "It's all part of the process Ryder," she said, her lightheartedness leaking into her words. "Our return wasn't expected until next week. Besides, where would we be without rules?"

With a small shrug Ryder conceded her point. Rules were important. Too bad he really did not want to deal with them right now.

As the Nexus security team finally approved their mooring, the bridge door opened behind him. Ryder turned instinctively and quickly wished that he had not. His stomach clenched anxiously.

It was inevitable.

The Tempest was a fairly small ship and there were few places to hide without bumping into the rest of the crew. Even so, he had wanted to avoid Vetra for as long as was acceptably possible. Their discussion from the night before and the suddenness with which he left the conversation all made for an uncomfortable atmosphere. Too many things had been left unsaid, too many things had already been revealed, and the path remained open for questions that he had no gumption to entertain.

Ryder nodded his head cordially, sliding on his best poker face. Despite his best effort, he displayed a rather lackluster smile. "Hello, Vetra."

"Hey Ryder, how are you?" she greeted in return, her demeanor projecting a visibly sunnier disposition.

"I'm fine. Can't complain."

The Pathfinder just so happened to be a terrible poker player.

Analyzing body language had become both a functional and constant source of entertainment for the seasoned smuggler. Black market trading was – naturally – a dirty business teeming with characters of all sorts and shades; growing up in such an environment quickly emphasized the importance of being able to size up who she was dealing with. It was also useful to be able recognize when a deal was about to go catastrophically sideways.

A cursory scan of Ryder's appearance revealed that he was not 'doing well' at all.

Dark bags bruised the bottom halves of his eyes while his face bore the shadowed hints of untrimmed stubble. Just like herself, he had clearly not slept decently last night either. In his jaw was a noticeable tightness that served as a traitorous indicator of his effort to appear relaxed. While his façade may have fooled some, it was too shallow to convince her of his statement. The stiffness in his posture only served to proffer further evidence of his discomfort.

Ryder could try to play off his unease as much as he wanted. It would do little good while Vetra was reading him like a book.

She grinned knowingly, well aware of his game. "That's good, I'm glad."

Never having developed a strong appreciation for small talk, Ryder chose to remain silent. There was no need to drag out their conversation – if their brief back and forth could even be considered such – unnecessarily. Vetra moved casually to the side and comfortably leaned against the back of Suvi's chair. The science officer turned slightly to smile 'hello,' before returning to her work, unperturbed by the company.

A low rumble gripped the Tempest as Kallo extended the landing gears and carefully brought the ship into a slow decline.

"So," she said, turning her attention from the observational window back to the Pathfinder, "what's on your agenda today?"

Suvi looked back from her monitor as well. "Y'know, I've been meaning to ask the same thing. Why are we back so early?"

Ryder glanced between the two of them, his eyes darting away quickly. "Oh, you know, the usual bureaucratic bullshit," he evaded their questions carefully. "I have to speak with Director Tann about some still-unresolved settlement issue. He said it was urgent."

Vetra chuckled lightly. "I hear you. It doesn't matter where you are, admin is always a bitch."

Suvi sniggered softly and Kallo snorted. "Truer words have never been spoken," the salarian agreed, his attention focused on landing the ship properly.

A genuine smile broke across Ryder's haggard features. "I guess it's just one of those universal constants."

Vetra looked at him with an amused smirk. "Must be."

They laughed together at the shared thought and settled into a relaxed quiet. Ryder still felt awkward about everything that had occurred the night before, but he was able to ignore his mortification for the time being. If Vetra could act normal around him, there was no reason for him to act odd around her.

Ryder's thoughts focused on his personal mission and he began to contemplate the best possible way to acquire the Director's clearances. His first choice, and probably least likely to be successful, was to ask Tann directly to add the clearance to his own security ID. No mess, no fuss, everyone comes out happy. Though nothing was ever that easy. Considering his less than warm relationship with the Director, it would probably be a cold day in hell before Tann gave him anything out of good will.

Well, anything besides a firm boot in the ass.

Finally giving the situation the attention it deserved, Ryder quickly realized that his second, third, fourth, and even fifth contingencies all relied on threats, theft, bodily harm, or varying degrees of all three.

Vetra noticed the concentrated look on the Pathfinder's face and nudged him slightly with her elbow. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Startled back into reality, Ryder grinned at her sheepishly. "Just trying to think of what to say to Tann to stay out of trouble." It was the truth in a way. If he approached Tann improperly, things could get dicey.

She smirked knowingly. "Just keep it short and sweet. Tann tends to get annoyed with long answers." Vetra shifted her weight to one leg and crossed her arms, "Then again, he also gets annoyed with too short of answers as well." She winked at him, "It really just depends on his mood I guess."

"Great." He rubbed his eyes tiredly, "I'm sure I'll figure it out." The confidence in his tone left something to be desired.

A sharp jolt violently rocked the Tempest as Kallo finally settled the ship down onto a large circular platform. Ryder stumbled briefly before catching his balance while Vetra held onto the back of Suvi's seat for support.

"Whoops," Kallo said with a gentle scratch of his nose. He sniffed casually and continued to type into his control panel.

Ryder and Vetra both eyed the pilot sharply. Suvi watched Kallo with a slight smirk, her chin supported in her upturned palm. The side of his head began to itch as their gaze bore into his skull.

He looked at them innocently. "What?"

Suvi's smirk grew and her nose crinkled delicately. "Smooth."

Vetra rolled her eyes at the pilot's feigned innocence while Ryder just shook his head.

Turning towards the exit, Ryder offered the trio a quick two-fingered-salute of farewell. "I'll see you later; duty calls and all that," he said as he moved to leave. Before he could get too far, Vetra lightly gripped his upper arm. He looked at her hand and then at her relaxed features. One of his eyebrows furrowed while the other raised quizzically in a wordless question.

She offered a toothy grin, "You mind if I tag along?"

"Why?" he asked, genuinely intrigued.

"I've been meaning to catch up with Kesh anyway, and her office is basically within spitting distance of Tann's." Vetra shrugged playfully, "Plus, it's my day off, and I have nothing better to do."

Ryder had not planned on anyone coming with him, and his first inclination was to decline her request outright. If he did in fact have to turn to threats or violence to get the codes from Tann, another witness would only complicate the situation further.

Taking care to organize his thoughts before making a decision, he realized it would look oddly suspicious if he refused her without an explanation. While it would be smarter for him to go solo and minimize the amount of moving variables, he begrudgingly noted that Kesh's lab was practically next to Tann's office. If Vetra did in fact go her separate way when they reached the command center, her presence would have little to no impact on his discussion with the Director.

Continuing to mull over the possibilities, Ryder also recognized that continued proximity presented an opportunity to further smooth out any awkwardness between the two of them. Though he did his best not to care, he could not help the anxious knot that had formed in his gut.

Despite his better judgement, and ignoring the nervous pounding in his chest, he offered her a small smile. "The more the merrier."

… … … … … …

The main Nexus plaza bustled with afternoon activity as Ryder and Vetra maneuvered their way through the crowded walkways. As the plaza floor broke off into separate avenues, various merchants entertained swathes of the crowd with flashy demonstrations of their various goods. Unable to effectively avoid the credit fueled gauntlet, several shopkeepers stopped them in their path in an attempt to peddle their wares. Politely declining the merchants' sales pitches, they pushed through the throng.

As they weaved through the flow of bodies, Ryder noticed that a large circular space had been cleared out near the middle of the square. At the center of the circle, an exotic weapons dealer flamboyantly – yet expertly – twirled a pair of asari blades between his hands. With each flash of steel and acrobatic twist of his torso, he elegantly demonstrated the weapons' effective reach and flexibility to his awed spectators.

Past the main entertainment, comfortably nestled further down the line, a salarian armorer bartered with a prospective customer. In between negotiating, an asari commando carefully tested the fit of a new set of Colossus power armor. From the look of her movements, and the satisfied grin that marked her face, everything was where it should be. A goldenrod patch on her duty attire indicated that she was a member of the Nexus' APEX teams. Considering the commando's choice in gear, she would be deploying somewhere fairly hazardous. Satisfied with her inspection, the commando gave the shopkeeper an enthusiastic grin before handing him the agreed upon credits.

Tucked into the one of the farthest corners of the atrium, a small group of fresh Initiative personnel laughed amongst themselves. Their mirth at being awakened from cryo-sleep barely contained. Adjacent to their location, and visibly less cheerful, a few angaran diplomats huddled together. From the wary expressions they wore, it was clear that the envoys had not quite found their bearings in this new alien environment.

Ryder observed the passersby with mild interest as they went about their daily business, unware of his scrutiny. While most of those around him looked content with their situation, their outlook only a few months before had been anything but positive. Lacking in energy and resources, the Andromeda Initiative was dead in the water by all measures. Early attempts at establishing outposts were met with brutal failure, large scale mutiny led to unnecessary death and the formation of exile factions, and the Arks were unaccounted for.

He hummed softly as he and Vetra ducked into the entrance of the tram station. While they walked towards the waiting passenger car, she met his wandering gaze with a raised brow.

"What're you thinking about?" she asked, scanning her omni-tool against the VI operated ticket booth.

How she was able to seemingly read his mind, Ryder had no idea. Although charming, he was somewhat disconcerted by her ability to recognize when something was tumbling around in his head. As she claimed a seat in the back corner of the passenger car, he met her curious look and eased into the space next to her.

"I'm really just trying to understand the meaning of life and what it all means," he disclosed, tilting his head with feigned innocence.

Vetra's expression shifted from curious to a mix between amused and annoyed. Her eyes narrowed slightly while her mandibles pressed closer against her face as she fought a small smirk. "Smartass."

He laughed at her comment. "Alright, fine. I guess I was thinking about how this place was a disaster only a few months ago." She nodded in agreement at his statement and he leaned back into his seat, "It always amazes me how quickly people can move on from things. One minute the sky is falling, the next it's as if nothing even happened; shopping and laughing and going about their day normally."

She crossed one leg over the other comfortably as she replied. "Well, it's not like they have any other choice but to bounce back quickly. There's no going back; the Milky Way might as well not exist anymore. Their options are to either keep moving forward or die with the past."

"I guess that's true," he agreed, itching the stubble that lined his chin.

Vetra appraised him with a critical look before tapping his cheek. "You really need to shave this. Facial hair does not become you, Ryder."

"Wow, thanks, you're so kind. You should go into motivational speaking," Ryder chided mockingly, swatting her hand away. She chuckled and lightly shoved his arm as he smiled with her. "I'm serious, you'd clearly make a killing."

Vetra let out a loud bark of laughter that drew the irritated attention of their fellow passengers. Muffling her sniggers with a clasped hand pressed firmly against her mouth, and half-heartedly waving an apology to those around them, she jabbed him in the side with a sharp elbow. Ryder yelped in surprise and cursed openly as he massaged his assaulted ribs. A human couple eyed them disapprovingly and he actively ignored them with a shrug. He did his best to glare at his companion, but it looked oddly lopsided as he smirked instead.

"You suck."

"I know," she said, patting him absentmindedly on the thigh.

Vetra's hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary, her slender fingers gently molding against the shape of his leg. With a small jolt she pulled her appendage back quickly and shoved it into her lap. Offering a self-conscious smile, she turned her attention towards the cycling train destinations displayed on the holo-board overhead.

"It looks like there will be a lot of stops on the way. The ride may take a while," she mumbled, doing her best to play off her embarrassment. Watching the holo-board, Vetra tried to ignore the faint heat the crept up her neck.

Oblivious to the turian's sudden blush, he yawned dispassionately. "Oh well; it's not like we're in a rush."

Vetra did not respond and instead looked out of the tram widow.

More than happy to sit in companionable silence, Ryder turned his attention back towards people watching. Despite the varied company occupying the vehicle, it was not long before they failed to anchor his steadily drifting attention. Without much resistance, his thoughts inevitably wandered out into a minefield and his good mood steadily gave way to a more melancholic countenance.

Shaded by the memories of Kadara, a pained part of his mind firmly believed that a clear and measured level of distance needed to be established between them. He was damaged goods.

Past a certain point, it just would not work out.

Whatever that 'it' was exactly remained unanswered as Ryder actively avoided the question. In order to save them both from pain – from heartache that his jaded soul would certainly exacerbate – it would be better if they remained nothing more than occupational acquaintances.

Ryder looked up from his clasped hands and studied her sleek profile. As he visually traced her features Vetra's eyes darted to and fro, an alluring passion veiled just beneath the surface. Even in her relaxed state, she appeared so very alive – so full of fire. Perhaps, despite his best efforts, that was why he was drawn to her. As much as he had wanted to avoid her and create space, his better judgement quickly lost out to the warmth that had invaded his chest.

Limiting their relationship to that of 'occupational acquaintances' was clearly not going to work, regardless of how logical it sounded.

He exhaled deeply and ran a hand through his hair. When had this become so complicated?

… … … … … …

Vetra watched with rapt interest as more and more people filled the tram car before it disembarked. Her mandibles tingled nervously, a warm hue accompanying the sneaking warmth that prickled up her neck and face. A lifetime's worth of wit suddenly evaporated from her mind as she was left stunned by what had just transpired. Every tap and shove had been intended as playful or joking; familiar, yet still cognizant of certain unspoken boundaries.

"Except," she thought as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, "it had almost turned into something much more than that."

The tips of her fingers felt hot against the inside of her palm. She honestly had no explanation for it. Her hand had behaved with a mind of its own. While she had purposely slapped Ryder's leg in response to his snarky comment, she had not meant to gently curl her fingers into the curve of his strong, and surprisingly muscular thigh.

"Stop it; bad." She cursed internally. This was uncharted territory, and whatever 'this' was, it sent off a blinding neon 'X' within her head.

Out of her peripheral vision she watched Ryder rake a hand through his hair. Despite the obvious differences in their physiology – though she was rather hesitant to admit it – he was a fairly handsome individual. In their time together, she had noticed many of the younger human women giggling amongst themselves as they walked by. A primal part of her mind had purred approvingly as he seemed painfully oblivious to the way that they had cooed and batted their eyes at him.

She growled in frustration and dug a talon into her palm. It was all she could do to cut off the mortifying train of thought before it traveled even further. What did she care if other women found him attractive?

Vetra closed her eyes, forcing her mind to focus on anything else – on something much more platonic.

Ryder was her friend. In her usual line of work, friends were often very few and far between.

More often than not, in her case at least, whatever acquaintances she made usually tried to stab her in the back at one point or another. Not having to constantly worry about being jumped (except by Peebee due to her odd penchant for frequent piggy-back rides) had become a welcome luxury.

Although not one to openly admit her feelings, Ryder had become very near and dear to her heart. Whenever they were together, finally able to get out of their own heads and just be themselves, everything seemed right. The sarcasm came naturally and the banter flowed easily; their friendship – SAM's request for clandestine assistance notwithstanding – was an uncomplicated one

If the faint fluttering in her torso was any indicator, she was more than afraid to lose what they had.

Regardless, Vetra was afraid of what she felt. Feelings made things complicated, and complicated feelings ruined friendships. The more she dwelled on it, the more uneasy it made her.

Jarring her out of her introspective reverie, the door to the tram shuttered closed as the final stragglers hurried within. A deep rumble reverberated around the hull of the passenger car as it steadily began to accelerate in speed. Before too long, pale streaks of fluorescent light illuminated the shaded interior as they journeyed through the Nexus' rail line. As the vehicle continued forward towards its destination, Vetra heard Ryder sigh tiredly. She looked over at her companion and noticed the consternated expression etched into his sleep deprived features. Swallowing her embarrassment over the shameful independence of her fingers, and burying the unfamiliar fluttering in her gut, she nudged his knee with her own.

"So, what are you getting me for my birthday?" she asked innocently, doing her best to lighten the mood.

Ryder met her eyes with a blank look. Whatever issue had been occupying his mind seemed to have quickly dissipated at hearing her unexpected question. "What?"

Despite herself, Vetra could only giggle at the sudden deer-in-the-headlights look that he stared at her with. It was quite endearing truth be told.

"You know, my birthday," she teased, "That thing that comes around once a year marking the day of someone's birth."

He rolled his eyes before pressing his lips into a thin line, his brow furrowed as he tried to remember all of their past conversations. "You've never mentioned anything about your birthday before."

"Of course I have," she scolded, flapping a hand at him. "Maybe you just weren't listening."

The Pathfinder scrubbed a hand down his face in exasperation. "Woman, for the last time, I am telling you, you have never mentioned your birthday to me. Ever."

Vetra titled her head a fraction and narrowed her amber eyes dangerously. "You did not just address me as 'woman'," she challenged leaning into his personal space.

Despite her proximity, Ryder crossed his arms and schooled his features together. The pointed look in his eye antagonized her as he said dryly, "And what if I did?"

Before she could respond, he quickly added, "Woman."

Her mandibles flared at his blatant cheek and she did her best to remain stoic. Their interaction had devolved into a stubborn trial of will. Whoever broke first would never hear the end of it, and she was determined not to lose. Ryder felt his lip quiver slightly as he suppressed the urge to grin while Vetra pinched herself to keep her expression serious. He refused to give ground and she would not give in without a fight.

It was a long ride to the Operations center, and to the utter suffering of their fellow passengers, they argued throughout the entire journey.

… … … … … …

Sid hummed contentedly as she poured a generous amount of dextro-substitute coffee into her travel mug. The liquid's woody aroma invaded her senses and helped to alleviate the drowsy cloud that had managed to muddle her thoughts all day. She strolled by the various offices scattered throughout Operations and traded pleasantries with the various personnel milling about. As Sid descended the ramp leading to her communications station, an odd and indistinguishable noise caught her attention. To her left, a pair of muffled voices could be heard going back and forth as if in some heated argument. Tracking the noise as it grew closer, Sid quickly realized that the disturbance emanated from the lobby doors leading to the station tram. Before long, the doors opened and a small group of obviously frazzled commuters filed out into the Operations foyer. Every last one looked miserable.

Just as Sid was about to ask one of the passengers what was going on, she spotted two very familiar faces slowly walking through the doors and up the entrance ramp. Ryder rubbed his upper arm while Vetra stepped in tandem with his stride. Her heated expression alleviated by just a fraction as she said something that Sid could not make out. He stopped in his tracks and stared at his companion with an indignant look.

"So you punch me?" Ryder enunciated, his voice quickly elevating in volume. A few passersby looked in their direction as his voice carried through the vestibule.

Spinning around to face him, Vetra planted her hands on her hips and shifted her weight to one leg. Sid gulped instinctively. She knew that look all too well. It was the same look her sister would give her before she either got the whooping of a lifetime or a scolding that would melt her eardrums. Giddy to not be on the receiving end for once, she grinned and sipped her coffee. Her sister raised a pointed talon to his chest and jabbed him in the sternum for effect.

"You should have remembered."

He lifted his hands in a display of befuddlement. "How can I remember what I've never even been told?"

Vetra turned before he could respond and continued ascending the access ramp upwards. As she walked away, Ryder looked skyward and pinched the bridge of his nose as he scowled. Despite his best efforts, his frown slowly turned into an entertained grin. It was never a dull moment with the feisty turian around.

At the apex of the walkway, Vetra spotted her little sister waiting for her with a cheesy smile spread across her face. "Hey kiddo," she said as she wrapped Sid into a hug, "how're you doing?"

"I'm doing alright," Sid replied, "kind of enjoying not being the one in trouble for a change."

Vetra released her embrace and looked behind her. With the trace of a scowl etched into his features, Ryder grumbled to himself as he begrudgingly marched along the path to join them. While they waited for him to reach their position, Sid gave her sister a sly look.

"So what did he do?"

"Nothing, actually," her sister said through a mischievous tilt of her lips. "Figured I'd have a little fun; I made him believe he forgot my birthday."

She studied Vetra with a thoughtful expression. "But you've never told anyone about your birthday – besides me of course."

Her sister gave her a sidewise glance, "Exactly."

Sid's lips pressed into a surprised frown. "That's evil sis, even for you," she admonished before taking another sip of her beverage.

Ryder's grumbling grew louder as he neared and Vetra shrugged casually. Once he had crested the top of the pathway, despite his apparent sulkiness, Ryder smiled warmly at the younger Nyx sister.

"It's good to see you, Sid," he said as he continued to rub the sore spot on his bicep.

"You too," Sid returned as she grinned at him knowingly. She glanced at his arm, "So what happened to you?"

He shot Vetra a sharp look before returning his attention to the younger of the two. "Your sister happened. I don't know how you survived your childhood under her."

"You're such a baby," Vetra countered with a roll of her eyes, "I didn't even hit you that hard."

Ryder chuffed at her words and shook his head before addressing Sid once more. "So, how did you make it out alive?"

"Well, I remembered her birthday, for one," Sid answered as she smiled behind her coffee mug.

He pressed a palm to his face and exhaled deeply – there was no winning for him. "Fine. Fine. I give up." Ryder turned to Vetra, "Let me know what you want as a belated gift; I'll see what I can do." The Pathfinder glanced at Sid, "It was good to see you. I have to go, but we'll catch up some other time."

Before he walked away, he turned back to the older Nyx sister. "Have fun with Kesh; I'll meet you at her office when I'm finished with Tann," he said, slowly moving backwards.

Vetra nodded and smiled as he walked away. "Sounds good."

Offering Sid one final wave, he turned and strolled from the Operations center towards the main control hub. Connected by a set of ramps and walkways, it was only a short jaunt before he reached the entrance to Tann's office. As he entered through the sliding door, the Director's secretary, a young salarian named Yora, welcomed Ryder with an overly cheery demeanor.

"Pathfinder, it's so good to see you again. How can I help you?"

He returned her greeting with a polite smile. "I need to speak with Director Tann about something important. Is his schedule currently open?"

"I'm more than happy to check; one moment please."

Ryder nodded his thanks and began to mosey around aimlessly as Yora swiped through several different displays on her omni-tool. While he waited, he noted the extensively and lavishly decorated interior of the office space. For a man who exuded an air of rigidity and anal-retentiveness, the décor of his official area pointed towards a more eccentric taste. The secretary coughed softly in an effort to grab Ryder's attention while he studied an abstract painting of bright patterns and dark spatters. Wholly occupied with the piece before him, his head tilted almost perfectly parallel with the floor in a comical display of focus. Tann's secretary cleared her throat a second time.

"Pathfinder?"

Ryder righted himself and moved closer to Yora's desk. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not a problem; Director Tann is currently available. Would you like me to let him know you're here?

He smiled disarmingly. "Oh, no, its fine, I'll just go up myself. Thank you."

"Of course," the secretary consented.

Moving up the walkway from the secretary's desk, the main anteroom broke out into an even larger waiting area. In the middle of the space, a large holo-display projected the glowing image of the Initiative's most recently established settlement. Beyond the projector, several glass cases, housing both ancient relics as well as more modern mementos, lined the walls. It was an impressive collection to say the least. Ryder continued upwards until he reached the final platform that contained Tann's workstation and personal monitors. While the Pathfinder approached the Director's desk, Tann swiped casually through the messages on his private terminal. Without looking up from his screen, the salarian addressed Ryder with a nasally voice.

"Hello, Pathfinder. I'm sure you're here for a good reason? Your manifest doesn't have you scheduled to return to the Nexus until next week."

Ryder appraised the Director with a slightly raised brow. Barely three seconds into their conversation and he could already feel his blood begin to boil. His lips pressed into a tight line as his heartrate began to pick up speed. For a brief moment he seriously considered simply knocking Tann out and stealing the clearance codes. Obviously he would be caught – there were security cameras everywhere – but it would be a thoroughly satisfying experience.

Rationality quickly won out as his fist clenched together. If he wanted to find his father's body, he would have to be diplomatic.

"More like I have to kiss ass," he thought bitterly.

Plastering on a painfully disingenuous display, Ryder greeted Tann. "Hello Director, it's good to see. I hope all has gone well with the settlements so far?"

"Mm. Reports have been barely satisfactory. You will need to work harder if the Initiative is to be a success."

Ryder's nostrils flared at the thinly veiled condescension that laced the Director's words. Punching him looked more and more appealing with each passing second. "Of course; you're absolutely right. My team and I will do all that we can to ensure the settlements are successful."

"I'm sure," Tann said as looked up from his display and met Ryder's eyes with a bored expression. "Now, what did you want? I have things to do."

The Pathfinder moved a few steps closer to the Director's desk and assumed a stance of respect with his arms placed comfortably behind his back.

"Earlier today, I attempted to plot a course for Habitat-Seven. However, the navigational computer would not accept the coordinates due an administrative lock-out."

At this information, Tann's expression morphed from uninterested to thoroughly alert.

"I'm well aware," he said as he turned his full attention towards Ryder and pressed his fingers into a steeple. "Why did you attempt returning to Habitat-Seven?"

"It's a family matter, Director."

Understanding dawned in Tann's mind. "I see. This is about your father then."

Ryder simply nodded the affirmative.

"And you need the proper clearance codes – my clearance codes – to get through the lockout, correct?"

He nodded again.

Tann chuckled humorlessly and stood from his position at his workstation. He came to stand near Ryder and spoke so softly it was almost a whisper. "I understand you wanting to retrieve your father's body. However, you must think of the greater political ramifications."

Ryder turned to face Tann. "I don't follow," he admitted with a deep frown.

The Director sighed as if having to explain something to a child and placed a hand on Ryder's shoulder. Uncomfortable with Tann's sudden proximity he warily eyed the elongated appendage. Regardless of bureaucratic hierarchy, Tann had encroached on his personal space and he was most definitely not a fan.

He returned his gaze upwards and met the salarian's disconcerting eyes. Even in the best of light, Tann's irises were barely distinguishable from the inky sclera that surrounded them. Despite his resolve Ryder felt his hair stand on-end.

"You see Ryder, the Initiative, regardless of its recent successes, is still reeling from our early losses and failures. We may look strong on the surface – appearances are key after all – but our people remain brittle. We've lost far too much to openly recognize the loss of our first and most preeminent Pathfinder. For those living on the Nexus or stationed at our settlements, the Pathfinders are regarded with an almost mythical quality." He spread his arms wide into the air, "You are larger than life."

It was a rare occurrence where Ryder was flabbergasted. In the time that he had taken up the mantle of the Pathfinder after his father's death, the odd and the weird had become somewhat of a common occurrence. That being said, something from far out in left field was required to knock him off balance.

Tann's words did just that.

Ryder's brow scrunched together in a struggling display of anger, confusion, and disbelief. "What?" was about the most eloquent thing he could muster as his brain buzzed with a thousand different overlapping questions.

Tann patted him on the shoulder and leaned against the metal edge of his desk, crossing his arms across the front of his chest as he did so.

"Think about it like this: the Pathfinder is more than just a rank and designation; the Pathfinder is much more than an explorer and trailblazer. He is a tool to be used. A symbol to be followed. You, Ryder, are the one constant in an ever shifting maelstrom."

He offered no response to the Director's tangent as he listened with attention. The salarian continued on with his explanation, impressively unfazed by the waves of animosity that slowly filtered out of his subordinate.

"Basically, the Pathfinder is not allowed to die. True, the person behind the mantle may be replaced due to death or necessity, but the public need not know the specifics," Tann clarified further.

For Ryder, none of this made any rational sense. His father had beaten the principle of integrity into his core as a young boy, and everything he had heard thus far spat in the face of that.

Without skipping a beat, the salarian continued with a flourish of his hands. "So long as the symbol lives, the people possess the strength and hope needed to push forward in our grand endeavor. If we should falter, should our people lose faith, the Initiative shall surely crumble around our feet."

The Director recovered from his casual position and returned to the more official spot behind his desk.

"It's all for the greater good, Ryder."

In spite of Tann's grandiosity and well meaning, Ryder heard nothing but a steady stream of refined garbage. Every word reeked of manipulative self-interest.

He braced his hands against the edge of Tann's desk and glanced up with a dark expression. A storm raged within his chest and the levies strained against the rising tide. Forcing himself to remain civil, Ryder swallowed his anger.

"Please, Director. If no official service is to be provided, fine. I can accept that. However, at least allow me to bring my Father home. He deserves that much."

The salarian appraised him thoughtfully but quickly shook his head. "No. I am sorry, Ryder, truly, but there are too many loose lips on this station. I cannot guarantee the news will not spread. The second the people have tangible knowledge – visual proof – that the Pathfinder is just as vulnerable as everyone else, the illusion evaporates."

He swiped at a message that appeared on his screen and continued, "I wish I could help you, but I can't. For the time being Ryder, your request for clearance to Habitat-Seven is denied."

His words closed with a tone of finality, and as far as the Director was concerned, their conversation was over.

Ryder's posture had become taut. Truth was what mattered, regardless of how painful. There could never be growth if the people followed a convenient lie.

"What about honor, Tann? Does that count for nothing?" he challenged. Venom dripped from every syllable as he ignored the salarian's official title.

Tann leaned back in his chair with a mildly surprised expression. "I beg your pardon?"

"Honor. It's fundamental. If anyone deserves to be remembered, my father does. He sacrificed everything for the sake of the Initiative. He died for the Initiative."

Ryder's words pulsed with passion. Tann continued to meet Ryder's fiery gaze with an apathetic air and pressed the tips of his fingers together.

"You're young Ryder, so I don't expect you to understand the chess game that is politics. We've all done ugly things for the sake of what is best for the people. We do what we must for those that we love," Tann said, his lips turning up as if finding something humorous. "Am I right?"

The Pathfinder stood from his bent position and squinted suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

Tann closed his eyes and breathed in deeply before releasing an equally heavy sigh. Although he was quickly growing impatient, he masked his annoyance particularly well.

"I know it may be hard to believe, but I love the people of the Initiative. Everything that I do, I do for them. I have sacrificed and I have lost for them. I have even killed for them."

Ryder looked at him skeptically and Tann noticed his disbelief.

"Well, not personally. Though, I directed my fixers towards those who were deemed problematic to our cause." As Ryder's expression became more apprehensive he flicked his hand indifferently. "They were outcasts and exiles; they caused nothing but problems; they were nobodies."

"Is that supposed to somehow make their murders acceptable?" Ryder fumed with unfiltered loathing.

Tann could only laugh.

"I find it amusing that you have the gall to stand before me and speak about honor. After what happened while you were stationed at Arcturus Station, I'm surprised by your standards."

Whatever fire had burned in Ryder's chest was soon doused by the sudden ice that coursed through his veins. There was no way the Director could have had access to that information.

The salarian quickly noticed the sudden shift in Ryder's demeanor.

"Don't look so shocked," he said merrily. "Following the mutinies, I needed to weed out those I could trust and those I had to be wary of. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I was able to parse through every bit of every Initiative personnel file."

Ryder's complexion quickly turned ashen as Tann neared something forbidden.

"Even the redacted parts."

Ryder would swear that he felt his heart stop for a fraction of a second. Whatever records existed were supposed to have been permanently sealed under Alliance authority.

"I must say, you left quite a mess during your time with the Alliance. After all of the red that dripped from your ledger, it is no wonder they let you go."

If not for the shock that jumbled his equilibrium, Ryder would have been across the desk with his hands wrapped around Tann's scrawny throat. Instead, he remained silent and focused on the Director with wide eyes.

Tired of their back and forth, Tann waved him off. "We're done here Ryder. Your request is denied, and any attempt to breach Habitat-Seven's no-fly-zone shall bear severe ramifications for you," he threatened.

Tann paused for an agonizing minute as he allowed his words to truly sink in. Finally, he broke the silence.

"You know the way out."

Ryder, too dazed to formulate a coherent argument or appeal his case, remained mute and obediently turned away from the Director's desk. He quietly descended the walkway and found his way to the lower entrance of the office. Before he crossed the threshold of the main door, the secretary once again offered a sickeningly sweet smile as she bid him farewell. He did his best to reciprocate Yora's courtesy but failed to muster anything greater than a hollow grimace.

Still lost in his own thoughts, and largely unaware of those around him, Ryder aimlessly wandered through the Operations deck. On occasion, he inadvertently bumped shoulders with the other personnel also crossing the floor. Despite their surprised yelps or angry remarks he continued on, deaf to their voices.

With each belabored step, dread gripped his heart.

No one besides himself, his father, and his commanding officers had been privy to the details of his discharge. Despite six hundred years of time and billions of light years of travel, Ryder's past still found a way to haunt his steps. Without even realizing it the Director had created an unwelcome loose end.

And one way or another, Ryder was determined to tie it off.