EDI had informed the commander back when the turian-krogan alliance was first secured that transport logistics could prove problematic. So far Shepard's threats, combined with being given freedom to roam the entirety of decks 3 to 5, had enabled the Normandy to remain unscathed but tensions were beginning to rise. First the ship had been diverted, increasing travel time, then Shepard had raced off into battle, leaving Aralakh company behind instead of allowing them to join her on her mission of glory. Finally the commander had returned, bringing with her a mewling selection of runts that they were expected to share training space with, that in itself wouldn't be so bad but they'd been prohibited from punching the whelps.

The Grissom Academy students weren't having a great time of it either. First they'd been thrust without warning into a baptism of fire combat experience against Cerberus. They'd seen friends die in front of them and now they were discovering first hand just how accurate some specie stereotypes could be.

The science students were easiest to deal with, off duty engineers and specialists only too willing to escort them to various parts of the ship to geek out. The biotic students mostly hung out on deck 3 but Shepard was worried that without enough to do they might end up wallowing in negative thoughts. Everyone had been made aware that Sanders and Chakwas could be approached for help or just a friendly chat at any time and a few of the more empathetic marines had been surreptitiously planted about the deck just on the off chance anyone asked to compare experiences, but as the doc said 'we can't force anyone to accept help. Certainly not just yet.' Somehow they made it through the first day without any homicides but there was still an estimated 52 hours travel time together and the tension needed a release.

The commander's solution turned out to be very... novel.

...

There wasn't a great deal of space left in the hold. Both of the Normandy's UT-47A kodiak's had been hung away on rails, the space below filled with storage crates in an attempt to make as much room as possible for the main event. The two hijacked Cerberus shuttles lay on the deck, having been thoroughly inspected by a team of specialists and engineers led by EDI and Dr. T'Soni, who had uncovered disappointingly little and their scientific and strategic usefulness declared at an end. Shepard stood on a crate as she addressed the two clusters of people around the shuttles, a few brave off duty crew members gathered round the edges of the room with even more crowding behind the safety of the observation window along deck 4.

"The rules are simple. Upon my command you will have 6 minutes to do as much damage to your shuttle as possible. You may not interfere with the other team or their shuttle. You may not use any extra tools. Liara and myself will be on watch for any dangerous looking debris and try to prevent anything damaging my shuttles, ship or crew, but we are forbidden from touching, either physically or bioticly, any pieces still attached to either shuttle. Any excessively dangerous behavior from either team may lead to forfeits at my discretion. When the time is up Lieutenant Cortez will analyse both shuttles and judge which is the most destroyed from the qualified perspective of someone who'd have to fix the bloody things if they didn't belong to the enemy and we weren't spacing them afterwards! Doctor Chakwas has also graced us with her presence in case of any unforeseen accidents. At which point she will treat any wounds and then publicly flay me alive for condoning such reckless behavior." A chuckle rippled through the gathered spectators.

"Aralakh company, are you ready?" A deep roar of agreement bellowed round the shuttle hanger at the commander's question.

"Grissom Academy, are you ready?" A cheer from the students, Normandy personnel joining in to lend a bit more volume.

"Definitely non-existent bookies! Are you ready?" A small whoop from among the audience.

"Three, Two. ONE. GO!" The noise was deafening as the Ascension Project students pushed, pulled and twisted with biotic energy fields trying to force the various sections apart. The krogan took a more direct approach, using their extra bulk and muscle to physically pound into their shuttle. Fists and shoulders denting metal as they pummeled it with all the force of a small meteor shower.

Cheers of encouragement rained down from the crowd, an almost feral grin on the commander's face as she reveled in the destruction. Sympathetic winces from Cortez and Adams who are able to see past the paint job to the innocent machine parts being tortured beneath. One of the Grissom students shows signs of the ever dangerous combination of intelligence and recklessness as he covers himself with a barrier to enter inside the shuttle. Moments later the sounds of miniature warps hitting the controls can be heard. Not to be outdone a couple of krogan enter their craft and start tearing at the seats, trying to remove them from the chassis.

"TIME!" The commander finally called out, voice carrying clearly over the din. The teams reluctantly backing away from the desecrated corpses of their victims to allow Cortez access. The students' faces are flush with excitement and exertion, adrenaline still coursing through their veins as they surveyed their handiwork.

"Hey! Which of you pyjaks managed to take out the window?" The students looked over at Aralakh company who were gazing in admiration at the combined carnage. The window of the krogan shuttle heavily cracked but still attached. Shepard's smile is more civilised this time as she observes some of the braver kids engage with a couple of more open minded krogan to compare notes.

"Commander." Cortez exits the second vehicle totting up figures on his datapad, she holds up a hand for silence, a hush descending over the ship as she nods for the Lieutenant to report. "This is only a rough estimation of course but the predicted cost of repair is as follows: Aralakh company 1,386,000 credits, 142 man hours. Grissom Academy 1,847,000 credits, 96 man hours." Noise erupts once more at the results, the C.O miraculously failing to witness the numerous credits changing hands throughout the audience.

"You know," Liara steps up behind Shepard's shoulder. "That doesn't sound nearly high enough." A half smile tugs at the human's lips.

"I know what you mean. Maybe when the rest go on lunch we should remedy that."

"Absolutely."