Prodromos was thriving to the point where they were taking in new colonists – from a population of 40, Bradley decided to expand that number up to 75, and then again to 100 just a few months later as the vault did it's job and their struggle with the climate and resources continued to loosen up.

He wouldn't admit it to the crew, but he felt more accomplished putting up these new buildings for the incoming colonists then he did resetting the vault. And though they were a fair few digits away from it becoming a problem, they were considering reopening one of the older colonies, the basin set to become increasingly cramped – and given the option, the majority of those currently residing in Prodromos preferred the open spaces after being cooped up on the Nexus.

His small construction team had just put in the final bolt of this one particular building, part of a block of residential housing. Scott took a step back, looking over the bulkhead. "Alright, I think we're done for today."

There was somewhat of a sigh of relief from some of the team, but others were double checking electrical and water connections, stem bolts, and all in between. He helped pack up, gathering up his belongings and just about to head back to his own residential housing block when Bradley clapped him on the shoulder.

"Pathfinder," He chuckled, leaning against the bulkhead. "You're doing a hell of a lot of work, you know that?"

"Another day at the Prodromos office," Scott grinned, shrugging on his jacket. And then he paused for a second, cocking his head. "Didn't I talk to you half an hour ago? What are you doing back here?"

Bradley hesitated for a bit. "Before I tell you, I want you to stay calm."

Scott frowned, a spike of panic echoing through his chest as he sized up Bradley. Whenever someone told him to 'stay calm', something bad had happened – and today so far, there had been zero incidents that he was aware of. "August, what the hell-"

"Cora sent me here to tell you that she's in the Med bay-"

He didn't hear the rest of what Bradley said, racing off towards the door, blood rushing through his ears. Cora, eight months pregnant, was now in the Prodromos medical centre, and August Bradley was telling him he needed to stay calm?

And where the hell was SAM during all this? Whenever anything happened, the AI alerted him in that exact minute – now his silence for most of the day made sense.

He didn't manage to get down the steps before Bradley pulled him to a halt. "Scott, freaking out and barging in there isn't going to do anyone any good."

"The mother of my unborn child is in a med centre," The Pathfinder spelled out. "Exactly how am I supposed to react?"

"She'll be back at your place in less then half an hour – so you're going to react by taking a deep breath and thinking about this logically."

"What happened?" Scott demanded.

"She fainted," Bradley said. "But she's fine now-"

Scott forced his hand off his arm to finish his storm down the steps, running a hand through his hair before turning back to Bradley. "Why the hell didn't anyone come get me?"

Bradley was right – after Scott was ordered to high-tail it back home to get some rest, Cora walked through the door soon after, greeted only by her partner's eyes from his seat at the table.

She sighed. "It was low blood sugar."

That made sense. As what he liked to call a 'super biotic', she generally had to up her intake of essentially everything. Add her pregnancy on top of that, and balancing everything had been a mild struggle, but managable.

His head dropped to rest on his arms, giving a small breath of relief. Cora's fingers trailed against his shoulders, rubbing his upper arms.

"You've been putting yourself under the gun lately," She murmured, kissing the top of his head. "If it was serious, you know I would have called."

'Under the gun' was not in reference to the Prodromos additions, but the stress he was putting himself under to be the attentive father, partner, that he felt he needed to be. Alec Ryder was . . . not the greatest example of fatherhood he'd had, and with Gil and Drack (whom had surprisingly built a support network for him) off on the Tempest, he felt like he was battling this alone. Weighing the inevitable responsibilities he had as the human pathfinder with the ones of being a father . . . suddenly taking all this time off didn't feel like such a good idea. It felt like they'd been setting themselves up to fail. Adding Cora's health to his list of ongoing stress, and he was starting to buckle under the weight.

And Cora had noticed. And Cora had similar concerns of her own – she was still his SIC, regardless of their relationship. Neither of them ever had what some might have called 'traditional' views of parenting – hell, Cora was chomping at the bit to get back to her regular duties, while Scott was more or less dreading returning to the Tempest – but having both parents out on the same mission seemed illogical in the face of potential danger. If one went down in that situation, likely both of them would. It would have been preferable if one was reassigned.

"I know," Scott said. Not that it made him feel better. He sat up properly, now leaning into the back of his chair. "And you're right. But next time, if there is a next time, I would prefer I be there, instead of being left in the dark. And please don't tamper with the AI again?"

She had restricted SAM's subroutines the second she'd started feeling dizzy – that is, according to the AI. He'd had to fix whatever she did to shackle him, proving once again that she was by no means a pretty face.

"Understood," She ran her fingers through his hair. "C'mon. Come to bed."

He hummed, staying a moment in his chair as Cora retreated to the bed. The block they'd been assigned was essentially a studio space until such time the other buildings were up and running. It had been home for the last six months, doing the job they required. Neither of them really had any problems with cramped spaces, Alliance training having drilled that into them, and despite the Tempest being somewhat of a luxury, neither had really gotten used to it.

Having already dressed for bed, he stripped off his shirt, tucking himself up behind her and pulling her close, one hand on her belly.

They had less then a month.

Honestly that was probably the reason why he'd panicked so quickly. And he'd honestly prefer Harry to be around – as much as Ramirez was a great doctor, Harry and Lexi were family now.

God, he really needed to talk to Gil, get some of these feelings off his chest and ask for support.