"We've made a grave mistake."

Silence was all that followed Kalai Valern's statement. The councilor sighed as his dark eyes gazed upon the Citadel from the Council's tower, far above the riots and killing that was going on below.

The salarian could make out pillars of smoke drifting upwards from burning buildings and explosions from human-made car bombs, which were becoming a frequently used weapon against C-Sec forces.

"Military intervention is going to be necessary…" Councilor Sparatus said aloud to no one in particular as he paced back and forth, the turian ignoring whatever his salarian counterpart had said. He wrung his clawed fingers together as his eyes glanced from the vid-screens along the wall and his omni-tool, both displaying constant streams of info regarding the current, tumultuous situation sweeping the Citadel. "…it's obvious C-Sec can no longer handle this problem."

Tevos sulked in the corner, not even willing to look up at the station's skyline anymore, "Problem? I'd say this is slightly larger than a mere problem, Councilor. I'd say it's more of a disaster."

"We can still right all of this, stop this violence." Valern pushed again, the salarian unwilling to be ignored. "Let the humans stay."

Sparatus immediately objected, "Are you insane! It would undo several weeks worth of progress!"

"You call this progress? Look out the window, Councilor. Can you honestly call C-Sec officers and humans killing each other in the streets progress? Because I call that slaughter!"

The turian let his mandibles flare, "The humans don't deserve to be here in the first place! They're unpredictable! Look at this bloodshed, look at it! You want them to stay? After this!"

"This only started when we made them leave! Like it or not, the humans were melding with society! Peacefully I might add."

Clucking his tongue, Sparatus marched off, taking a large contingent of honor guards with him.

Valern couldn't believe that turian. He had it out for the humans, letting the outcome of a thirty year-old war fester like a dirty wound. Using his hatred, the turian managed to convince Tevos it was necessary to give humans the boot, finalizing the ruling over Act 24-21H.

Suddenly, the asari appeared next to him, bloodshot eyes looking out at the arms of the Citadel. Valern had never seen the woman so broken up. She was always the voice of harmony when the other two Councilors butted heads, the one who brought them both off their soap boxes when they got enthralled in the concerns for their own people. The wise asari was always looking towards the future, the big picture.

Now she looked like a hollowed-out shell, her arms tucked in at her sides as she silently observed the chaos before them.

They both stood there, in silence. The weight of their decisions sitting squarely upon them.


Everything was silent. Skeletons of cars lined the streets, charred bodies of aliens and humans alike were spread about everywhere, almost randomly.

Gavin Romanko looked around, vision hazy. His chest hurt, every breath was like drinking napalm. Blood trickled down his chest, underneath his torn shirt. Looking down, Gavin noticed his hands were bound together at the wrist by cuffs.

"What the…?" He wheezed, the words limping past his lips. Eyes moving from the cuffs, he noticed the skin along both his forearms was burnt and covered in cuts.

What the hell happened?

Suddenly, his mind caught up with the rest of his body.

Emptying another bottle between his lips, the barkeep slowly stumbled towards the front door of his once-thriving tavern.

"C-Sec, open up!" A short pause, followed by more pounding on his door. "Gavin Romanko, we know you're in there. Come out now, and we won't have to force our way in." The tell-tale sound of an omni-tool being brought to life emanated from the other side of the door. "Let's make this easy for everyone, Mister Romanko."

Snickering at the officer's warnings, the human threw the bottle to the ground and slapped a hand against the control panel. The metal portal split to reveal a burly turian and comparatively tiny asari, both in C-Sec garb.

"You're going to have to come with us, Mister Romanko." The asari said flatly.

The turian added forcefully, "Now."

"Awww…shit." Gavin placed both of his cuffed hands against his forehead.

Gavin didn't realize just how bad a mistake he had made until the turian grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the ground. He felt a razor-sharp talon press against his windpipe.

"You damned monkey!" The alien shouted, using his free hand to wipe the spit from his eye. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat you within an inch of your life!"

Already past both of them, the asari shouted from behind the bar, "We got a gun over here!" Lifting up the weapon, she gave a sharp whistle to her partner, "Damn nice shotgun he has here. Gettin' ready for a war, just like the rest of you humans, huh?" Slinging the shotgun over her back, the asari then approached the barkeep with cuffs, "Get him up, let's get him in the car."

He was in the backseat of a severely damaged patrol car, the windshield was shattered, no officers in the front seats. Everything was still dead silent.

"Unit Six-fifteen?"

The asari in the driver's seat responded, "Go ahead, Dispatch."

"We got a large civil disturbance down by the outpost in Tayseri Ward, and you're the closest to it. Requesting that you go down there and check it out, over."

The weight of the vehicle shifted immediately, neither alien saying a word as the car made its way for the designated area. Lifting his pistol, the turian turned in his seat and glared at the human with cold green eyes, "Now you're gonna stay in the car like a good little ape while we deal with this, understood?"

Gavin just stared back, too tired so respond. Frankly, he didn't care much either.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

He remembered the landing, the eruption of gunfire.

"Damn it!" Another bullet pinged against the hull of the car. The turian forced the door open and quickly got out, rifle in hands.

Baring teeth, the asari turned to Gavin and ordered him to stay put. She then yanked the barkeep's weapon from the gun mount and followed her partner into the fray.

Moving in tandem, both officers quickly found cover and returned fire to a group of humans hiding out inside an empty Armstrong Solutions storefront. Purple skin glowing white, the asari sent a wave of biotic energy towards her aggressors. Anyone inside would've been sent flying from the sheer force alone, while the following eruption of energy turned flesh into shreds of gore.

Turning his rifle towards the street, the raptor-like turian shouted, "Contacts, twelve o'clock!"

A large group of humans were moving towards them, all armed with a motley assortment of weapons ranging from pistols to sniper rifles. They easily had the officers outnumbered ten to one.

Gavin hugged the seat he was stuck in as best he could, praying that a stray bullet wouldn't end him.

He saw a man charge the officers, a primed grenade in his hand, ready to throw. His head cracked in half from the turian's rifle and he fell, grenade incinerating his body. Other humans kept up the heat from wrecked cars and open doorways, giving both C-Sec officers a constant shower of bullets.

"New contact, low-flyin' car, straight ahead!"

A civilian vehicle floated mere feet from the ground, a human stood next to it with an omni-tool wrapping around her arm. She gave the officers a little salute and pressed a button.

The car began to charge for the officers, full speed.

Tossing the shotgun away, the asari threw herself in front of her partner and threw both hands forward. Her eyes went from a pale gray to a radiant blue, and a solid wall of biotics formed.

Impact was almost instantaneous, the front end of the vehicle crumpled and forced the asari backwards. Grunting, she forced even more power from her body to stop the vehicle.

Laughing, the human from the far end of the street sauntered away and deactivated her omni-tool.

The flash of orange was the first thing Gavin saw, a bone-shaking thunderclap rocked his ears, and shattered glass and heat are the first things that set his nerves ablaze. Then utter blackness as his head slammed against the side of the vehicle he was still trapped in.

Distant voices bring the barkeep out of his hazy state of half-consciousness and forced him to start thinking again. He was trapped in a ruined C-Sec vehicle, unarmed and bound, on a space station where every alien was now his enemy. He needed to get moving, right now.

Wrapping his arms around the headrest of the driver's seat, Gavin awkwardly climbed into the front of the vehicle to find the controls unresponsive.

The voices began to get closer, the human counted at least five individual ones, maybe more.

Panicking, the barkeep vaulted forward and tried to crawl through the shattered windshield and onto the hood of the patrol car. Jagged bits of glass nicked him everywhere as he crawled forward, determined to avoid arrest.

Anywhere but the Terminus, he kept telling himself. Anywhere but the Terminus.

"Hey, we got a live one!"

Gavin hissed a curse and wildly attempted to get to his feet, only to get caught underneath his own shoe. He landed face-first onto the hood of the car, and if he didn't have a concussion before, he soon earned one. Rolling off the hood, his skull came down hard against solid ground. A flash of white blinded him.

Every part of his head throbbed with renewed agony as his legs simply refused to move this time, the rest of his body unwilling to take any more punishment.

Footsteps were getting louder, closing in on him.

Groaning, the barkeep rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl with what all the might he had left, which wasn't much.

It seemed to be in vain though, as a frighteningly strong hand grabbed his shoulder and forced him to stop. "Easy lad, easy." The voice was male, a slight tinge of Scottish. "We're not the enemy, you're gonna be okay."

The hand forced Gavin to roll back over. Kneeling over the barkeep, was a man fully wrapped in combat armor. His thin visor had bright blue eyes shining through it.

"Jesus Christ," the armored figure muttered as he brought up his omni-tool to scan the barkeep. He took a look at the scene around the man, and then back. "How the hell did you get through this? It was a slaughter down here."

"M-Medi-gel…"

The blue eyes looked over the omni-tool's reading, then focused on Gavin again, "Sorry lad, we're on short supply. Whole station is cut off. Used up most of it when the fighting broke out."

Another voice, Gavin couldn't see him, much harsher than the Scot's. "Then give him some damn painkillers, we're begging to get picked up by C-Sec just sittin' out here."

Omni-tool glowing yet again, the Scot placed it against the barkeep's arm. A slight sting and soon warmth filled Gavin's veins.

Then blackness wrapped around his vision.


"So, who are you again?"

"Arnold McCarthy. Friends call me Archer. Former Alliance Marine Corps." The man rubbed a hand through his dirty blonde hair. He had a long scar tracing from the eyebrow down his left cheek, ending at his chin. Out of combat armor this man was a massive hulk of muscle. "Now, who are you?"

Gavin shifted nervously upon the tiny bed he sat upon. The room he was in was small, probably a repurposed walk-in closet to fit people.

"Gavin Romanko, wh-"

'Archer' smiled and clapped his hands together, laughing as if he just saw the horse he bet on cross the finish line. "Yes! I knew it."

"Excuse me?"

Still giggling to himself, Archer leaned back in his chair, "Sorry, sorry. You're the owner of Gavin's Keep. I went there all the time before…" he sighs, eyes looking to the floor. "…before this shit-heap happened."

Neither said anything after that. Archer put his head in his hands and began to rub his temple, as if to force something out of his memory.

"So," the barkeep broke the quiet, "where am I?"

"Old apartment complex, Tayseri Ward. Now we found you out on the streets, right over by the old C-Sec outpost. Hell of a firefight went on over there yesterday. Once Krieger set everything in motion, every human in Tayseri took up arms." Archer began to trace his scar with a finger, "I couldn't even begin to tell you how many people died down there, alien or not. That outpost was also same place where people started using car bombs…" Archer shook his head and sighed, "…messed up shit…"

"Yeah…" Gavin nodded, remembering the flames that wrapped around the officers that arrested him. "I saw that firsthand." Leaning against the wall that his bed rested next to, Gavin looked over the man with a discerning scan, "Who are you people exactly? The one's who picked me up?"

A simple shrug, "I guess you could call us Krieger's little army. While I personally don't hate the dextros and the asari and those froggy salarians, I am sure as hell not gonna be forced off the only stable home I've known." Scratching his chin, he looked up to the ceiling in thought, "Right now I'd say there's roughly about ninety or so of us here, holed up in this fortified apartment complex. Tayseri has become the nerve center and stronghold for mankind here on the Citadel." He stood up and motioned Gavin to follow, which he did.

His legs ached with every step, breathing still hurt, but nothing like it was before.

Archer halted, "Oh, and before I forget." His omni-tool flashed and a recess in the wall next to him retreated. Sticking a hand inside, he pulled out Gavin's shotgun, "Found this near where we picked you up, got your name engraved on it, so I figured you'd want it back."

The bartender slowly reached out and grabbed the weapon. Carefully looking over the firearm, he found not faults and slung it over his shoulder.

Smiling, Archer nodded and marched down the hall, "There's only one standing rule around here, mandated by Krieger to all humans left on the station; always be armed."

"Noted." Gavin muttered as he glanced into a side room.

It was packed with people, most sprawled about on beds or the floor, bandages covering their wounds. Why were they using something as archaic as bandages when they lived in the world of medi-gel?

Yet again, Archer was there to fill him in. Every single human interest and business venture pulled off the Citadel within the past few days, including the Sirta Foundation. Sirta was the creator and only distributor of the medical miracle, and they made damn sure they took it with them. What little mankind had left on the station was used sparingly, in all likelihood the aliens were probably feeling the hurt as well.

Needless to say, a lot less people would have died had there still been a bountiful supply.

Leading Gavin into an elevator, the Scot immediately shut the doors and leaned against the wall. "Well lad, this is where you have to make a choice."

"A choice," the barkeep repeated, confused.

Archer nodded, tracing his scar with a finger again, "Yep. If we want to show the Council and the rest of their appeasers that we humans deserve to stay, we need committed folk running this." His tone changed, his bright eyes seemed to darken. "Dedicated people. One hundred percent." Clearing his throat, Archer stood straight up. The Scot easily outsized the barkeep. "I need to know, Krieger needs to know, humanity needs to know, Gavin. Are you willing to do what's right?"

Backing himself against the wall, Gavin remained silent.

Archer just laughed, "Fine, maybe the man himself can convince you." He slapped the button for the first floor on the control panel and leaned back, "Krieger is a man of words, not I."


Peace.