Have a weird feeling I'm missing a lot of grammatical errors. Please tell me if I did.


The snickers and smartass grins began the moment they entered Rannoch's atmosphere, as usual. Martin ignored them the best he could, a task made easier since no one was talking to him. Two months had passed now since he was last home, and those two months both passed excruciatingly slowly. Much as Martin enjoyed his job, every day he spent away from home sucked, a lot. This trip was nothing compared to the five months he spent away on his very first job. Not only was it the longest he spent away from home, by two months, but it came at the worst possible time. Yala was still stuck on Rannoch, in the midst of a bout of insecurity both over her own life and their relationship. When he told her that he would be gone for five months, he half expected her to either end the relationship then, or worse, move on without telling Martin about it until he came back and found out from someone else. Nothing of the sort happened, thankfully, and when Martin came back, it was to a brand new girlfriend who was to be leaving on her first engineer job aboard a ship in a month and a half. Then he found himself on the other foot.

The offer Martin received from Nashan Stellar Dynamics was still at the forefront of his mind, even now. It was an amazing job. He had never been a "lab" person, but the company didn't seem to care. They heard about the improvements he made to starships on Rannoch, and wanted him, lack of experience be damned. Martin being the son of John Shepard certainly played a part in the offer, he was sure, but once he got in the door and proved himself he could quickly eliminate any hard feelings held towards him because of that. Accepting the job was not only a good move for him, it was damn near a no-brainer.

Except Martin didn't find it to be anything close to a no-brainer. There were non-personal reasons, of course. Nashan Stellar Dynamics did not have the most reputable reputation. They were part of a kickback scandal with the leader of the Terra Firma party, and even after the fallout of that scandal did not sever all ties with those racist pricks. They were one of the lesser of the major corporations dealing in starship technology. Rumors of long hours and employee mistreatment leaked out every few years, based on Martin's searches on the company. It was likely he might regret taking the position after a few months of unfair working hours and company decisions he couldn't support.

Martin was snapped out of his daydream by an imitation of the sound of a whip. The other crewmembers began laughing, and Martin rolled his eyes. "What do you say guys?" Kaesh said, his large eyes glinting with humor. "Five seconds? Four?"

Everyone laughed, even Martin. The rest of the crew made fun of him all the time for how Yala waited at the docks for him, but it was all in good fun. They all really liked her, of course, who wouldn't, but they still didn't pass on the opportunity to tease him about their enthusiastic reunions right. Especially since they usually happened right outside the airlock. Even if they did mean anything cruel by it, Martin wouldn't care. After months away from Yala, he was glad she wanted to see him as soon as possible, just like he did.

The ship came to a stop, and the crew began filing out of the ship in a straight line, the last bit of uniformity any of them would show until the next time they went through that airlock. Martin smiled, eagerly anticipating seeing his girlfriend. He stepped through the door, the sounds of the spaceport assaulting him immediately. He loosened his grip on the bag containing his belongings, ready to drop them when Yala came running. Except she wasn't there. Dozens were waiting outside the ship, parents and bondmates and children and close friends, but Yala was not one of them. This had never happened before. Martin waited a few minutes, thinking that maybe Yala had been held up for some reason and was on her way. After fifteen minutes without her showing up, Martin decided to just head home.

He couldn't stop worrying as the cab drove him home. Yala was ALWAYS there when he got off the ship. Maybe she had to work? Maybe she was sick? For a brief moment he wondered if there was a party waiting for him at home, but that wasn't it either, Yala was not a party thrower. So why wasn't she there? He began to really worry, his head swimming as he thought of all the possibilities of what might be wrong. When the cab left traffic and pulled down his street, stopping in front of his house, Martin didn't notice until the driver said, "We're here. That will be one hundred credits." Martin handed him his credit chit, took it back when the driver was done swiping it, grabbed his bag, and left the cab.

The door was open, and Martin walked in slowly, looking around. He could hear music playing somewhere in the house. The lights were on, but dim. Martin walked further inside, stopping when he stepped on something. A crushed flower lay in pieces, and many more lay along the ground, forming a trail towards the bedrooms. Martin dropped his bag and ran the rest of the way, a goofy smile on his face.

It probably made quite a sight when Martin burst through the bedroom door, eyes wide, mouth agape, like a kid running to the tree on Christmas morning. Martin was too absorbed in the sight before him to care if he looked stupid. On the bed, wearing nothing but a robe, Yala lay before him, one hand gently teasing up her leg. Her luminescent eyes were filled with eagerness and lust, and she chewed her bottom lip seductively. "Surprise," she purred.

Martin nearly lost all ability to think, but managed to compose himself. "What if I was a stranger I found you laying there like that, all irresistible?"

Yala suddenly forgot to keep looking so irresistible, her mouth curling into a frown. "I wouldn't let that happen. I had all this ready, but I waited until I saw your cab pull up before turning on the music and waiting here. Keelah, that would be so embarrassing."

"I was teasing you. You were supposed to play along, you know, something like, 'Oh no, Mr. Stranger, I'm just an innocent girl in her home. Whatever would you do to me?'"

Yala continued to frown. "Well, I'm not very good at this," she said. "Damn it, you're ruining the mood! This is why I never tried anything like this before, I knew you'd make me feel like an idiot." She sat up on the bed. "I should have stuck with embarrassing you when you got off the ship. That's what I'm good at, and you would be the one embarr-" She never finished the sentence, cut off by Martin's lips on her own.


It was obvious something was on Martin's mind. His eyes were distant, distracted. Yala grazed her fingertips along his chin, and he offered nothing more than a cursory smile. Such worry was not usual for him. "Spill it," she said, all playfulness leaving her body, hard to do when they were naked in bed.

"Huh?" Martin said, not the least bit convincing.

"Don't 'huh' me. What does that even mean? You answer questions with indecipherable grunts? Tell me what's wrong."

Still he hesitated, and Yala began to grow frustrated. She was also worried. Martin did have the tendency to withdraw when deep in thought, but not like he was now. Whatever troubled him, it was serious. "I received an offer for a job at Nashan Stellar Dynamics. I'd be working in a lab, helping design parts for ships. I'd be getting more than twice the pay, I'd rarely have to go on trips, it's a great job. But I'm struggling with whether to actually take it."

Yala's mood darkened. Nashan Stellar Dynamics did not operate on Rannoch, mainly because they were a bunch of racist bosh'tets. If Martin took the job, he'd have to leave. "You have to refuse them," she said.

"It's a great job," Martin argued. "I have to think about it."

"If you take this job, you'll have to leave Rannoch. I wouldn't be able to go with you."

"That's not necessarily true," Martin said, not sounding as if he believed himself. "You could move with me."

"You stupid bosh'tet, no one will hire a quarian!" Yala yelled, angrily getting out of bed. She picked her robe up off the ground and slipped it on, suddenly feeling cold. "If you take this job, we're done. You know that, and don't try to tell me otherwise!"

Martin sat up, eyes taking on a dangerous glint. It was look that he inherited from his father, a cowering look that made many shrink before it. Not Yala. She stared right back at him. "I don't know that," Martin said, straining to keep his voice calm. "I can request that I work in a lab on the Citadel, or Noveria. You could find a job in either of those places easily. We can find an apartment and live no differently than we do now."

"And if they insist that you work on Earth or some colony they bankroll?"

"Then I will tell them thank you, but I'm not interested." Martin calmed down, his body language softening. "I haven't decided to take this offer, I wanted to talk to you about it first. So please, calm down so we can discuss this without killing each other."

Yala took a deep breath, doing as he said. He was right. It wasn't like he told them yes already. If they couldn't make the concessions he asked for, he could say no. It was okay. She just needed to calm down. She was just so worried. Both of them had jobs that required traveling aboard a ship for months at a time. Time together was limited enough "So, you're going to contact them and inform them that you would require a position in a lab somewhere I could work?"

Martin shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not even sure I want the job, as big an upgrade as it is. Nashan Stellar Dynamics don't have a very good track record, professionally or personally. I do wonder what their opinion of our relationship would be, and what bigotry I'd encounter because of it. I'm certainly not going to hide you." Hearing him say that made Yala love him as much as ever. "This is far from a done deal, hon. So you can relax for now."

Climbing back into bed, Yala snuggled closely. "We can check it out together. Any objections?" Martin kissed her, and Yala relaxed completely.


The shrill of the alarm woke Martin, piercing his eardrums harshly. A sore shoulder screamed at him when he rolled over, and he immediately returned to laying on his back. The alarm continued to shout its wakening call. A three fingered hand, already suited, reached over him and shut the damn thing up. "Time to wake up, Martin," Yala said, voice synthesized by her helmet.

"Five more minutes," Martin said, closing his eyes.

"Which becomes ten more minutes, which becomes, twenty," Yala chided. "Next thing you know, you don't leave the bed all day."

"That doesn't sound so bad, as long as you're here, too."

Yala slapped him on his sore shoulder, making Martin groan with pain. "I won't let you drag me out here just to change your mind now. Get up."

The shower felt good, the water warm and comforting enough to stay in all day. Martin may have stayed in there if the shower hadn't woken him up enough to allow him to regain his senses. He dressed in the brand new blue suit he bought, Alliance colors intended to impress, shaved, brushed his teeth, and slicked his hair back with gel. Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he left the hotel bathroom, doing a stupid little bow in front of Yala. "Well? Would you hire me?"

"After I ravished you," Yala said seductively.

"That's what I was going for," Martin joked. "I hope a woman is interviewing me." Yala giggled, a delightful sound even after so many years. Martin looked at the clock. "Time to go. Ready?" Yala nodded.

The skyscraper housing the offices of Nashan Stellar Dynamics was among the smallest in New York City, and those offices only took up one floor of that skyscraper, compared to some of the other corporations who took up three or four floors. Martin stepped off the elevator on level twenty of one hundred and ten, Yala gripping his hand as they walked. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his hairline, even in the slightly chilly office. A receptionist greeted him, took his name, and told him to wait. Yala's presence didn't seem to bother her at the least, which made Martin a little happier and less nervous. Ten minutes passed before an older man, his hair gray and balding, came out to greet him. He completely cordial as he shook Martin's hand, shook Yala's hand, and asked Martin to follow him to his office.

"On the record," Mr. Primrose said, half an hour later, "I have to say that we'll let you know, and please be ready for us to contact you. Off the record, I'm very impressed, and you will be hearing from us."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Primrose," Martin said, keeping his smile reserved. He didn't want to appear overeager, like a little kid.

The two stood and shook hands. As Martin turned to leave, Mr. Primrose said, "By the way, is that quarian girl your girlfriend or wife?"

Martin began to sweat again. "She's my girlfriend. Hopefully one day my bondmate, that's what quarians call their significant others instead of a husband or wife."

Mr. Primrose nodded. "Ah, okay. Good for you. We could use a few more people like you. I know this company doesn't have the greatest track record with species besides humanity, but I can assure you we are trying our hardest to change that."

"Thank you, Mr. Primrose," Martin said, his relief nearly a tangible thing, able to feel and touch and share with others.

"Of course." Mr. Primrose shook his hand again. "We will be in touch."

Martin felt celebratory after leaving the office, and decided to take Yala out to lunch. He told her everything that was talked about during the interview, smiling goofily the entire time. When he told her that he would be allowed to work in a lab on Noveria, she seemed every bit as relieved as he was, and was just as relieved when told about Mr. Primrose's reaction to her. "This sounds like it worked out exactly as you hoped," she said, sipping at her drink.

Her melancholy tone was not lost on Martin. "I thought you'd be a little bit happier," Martin said.

Yala stopped sipping her drink. "I am!" she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was sad. I'm very happy for you. I'm just nervous. I've never lived on another planet. All kinds of bad scenarios are beginning to plant themselves in my mind. Can I get a job? Will I be treated okay? Will we be able to spend more time with each other? Stuff like that."

Martin well understood having such questions. "If it doesn't work out, we have jobs back on Rannoch waiting for us, right?"

Yala looked to be smiling behind her visor. "Right."

They spent the rest of the day taking in the sights of New York City, one of the great cities on Earth and a place where Martin had lived for two years with his mother. Even more than a decade later, and after the Reaper War, Martin found the city had not changed much. It wasn't hard to tell what had been destroyed, but all of it was rebuilt, much of it better than ever. The streets were packed with people walking, while hundreds of cars flew overhead. In twenty-first century fashion, stalls were placed along the streets, selling printed newspapers, magazines, food, drinks, even a couple of them selling jewelry. "Why are all of these people selling these things out here?" Yala asked, looking at each as they passed.

"Its just something we used to do," Martin said. "People could grab something to read on their way to work without having to wait in a store or a restaurant." They walked past another stall selling newspapers, and Yala grabbed one, staring at it in awe. "Have you never seen a newspaper before?"

"No," Yala said, seeming to find the newspaper wondrous. She unfolded it, and began reading an article. "Why not read all of this on the extranet?"

"Some people still like to read a printed newspaper," Martin said. "Same reason there are still printed books when you could just download them onto your omnitool or data pad. There aren't many newspapers left though. I've heard that their used to be multiple papers in every somewhat major city. Even when I was a kid, there were two different newspapers in the biggest cities. Now there's only Americana here, there's not even a newspaper exclusively for New York City anywhere."

"Why not?"

Martin shrugged. "A lot of people that think the way you do, I assume. They'd rather read the news online."

"I would love to read one of these!" Yala protested, opening to the first page. "I wish we had something like this on Rannoch. Do you think they have newspapers on Noveria?"

Her enthusiasm completely surprised Martin. "I don't know. Remember to bring it up when we get there, we'll ask round."

Both Martin and Yala were exhausted at day's end, the hotel bed soft, inviting. Martin didn't even both to change out of his suit, deciding to remove the jacket and his shoes before plopping down in bed. Since precautions still needed to be taken off of Rannoch, Yala stayed in her suit. Martin wasn't sure how she was managing not to complain about it. The suit was not something she was used to having to wear at all hours anymore. "You want anything?" he asked sleepily. Yala grunted, apparently just as tired as he was. The two of them faded off to sleep as the stars began emerging in the clear night sky.


Yala woke up with a splitting pain in her head, dizziness overwhelming her. She tried to stand, only to find her hands and feet were bound at the wrists and ankles. The floor was hard, not the floor of the hotel. As her vision cleared, she noticed someone else laying on the floor nearby, unconscious. The room itself was small, completely empty besides them. Yala struggled to inch her way over to the other person in the room, and saw that it was Martin only then did the fear hit her, a shot to her gut, the pain spreading through her entire body. "Martin," she said, voice shaky, hoarse. "Martin," she said again.

He stirred, a groan of pain escaping his lips. Yala watched him reach up to rub the back of his head, and notice his own bindings. "What the fuck?" he said a little too loudly, his voice also hoarse and dry. Unlike Yala, Martin sounded angry rather than scared. "Yala?" he whispered, panicking.

"Behind you," Yala said quietly, not wanting to alert anyone who might be listening. She frowned as he struggled to roll over and face her, and gasped when he finally did. A streak of dried blood marked his face from a cut above his temple, which thankfully was no longer bleeding. "Keelah," she sobbed.

"I can feel it," Martin said. "Is it still bleeding?" She shook her head. "How are you? Do you know what happened?"

"My head hurts, but I'll be okay. I don't have the slightest clue what happened though. We fell asleep, and I don't remember anything after that before waking up here." Yala tried her hardest to stay calm, losing the battle as tears fell from her eyes. "I'm scared, who did this?"

Martin strained against his bindings. "I don't know. We'll find out soon enough." He looked away from her. "I'm sorry. Whoever is responsible, they took us because of me."

"You don't know that," Yala said immediately, refusing to let the man she loved do that to himself.

"Yala, come on," he said.

She looked at him with all the conviction she could manage. "No, you come on. Don't even take this blame upon yourself. I won't let you." He began to speak again, but Yala cut him off. "Martin, do not start blaming yourself, damn it!" she hissed.

The door opened, and Martin immediately looked up. Yala tried her hardest to twist around and see for herself who was entering the room. A boot shoved her in the back, keeping her from doing so. Martin began struggling violently, fire in his eyes, and someone stepped over Yala to kick him in the ribs. Yala managed to look up, seeing that the bosh'tet was a human, completely armored to keep them from seeing a face. She wasn't the most knowledgeable person about such things, but if the human wasn't a mercenary, than Yala wasn't a quarian. "Calm the fuck down," the mercenary said, voice surprisingly high and non-threatening. "Keep quiet and don't struggle, or next time I'm kicking the alien bitch." Martin struggled again, shouting threats, and the mercenary made good on his promise, driving his boot into Yala's stomach, nearly making her vomit.

Her vision became blurry again, the sight of Martin trembling as he fought not to fight back an image she could barely make out. The door behind her opened, and two more presumed mercenaries entered the room. Two hands gripped under Yala's arms, uncaring of the pain they caused. The one that kicked her and the newcomer both lifted a still trembling Martin to his feet. Yala wanted so bad to say something, anything that might calm him down, but knew she would be hit again if she did so. The mercenary that lifted her turned her around and pushed her toward the door. "Keep quiet, and show respect. If you don't, you will be punished." Yala felt more tears build in her eyes, glad these men could not see.


Cliffhanger! AAAAHHHHH!

Decided to do a surprise two parter, because this will definitely be my last chapters for this story. Trying my hardest not to make Yala look like a damsel in distress, and she definitely won't be in the second part.

Also want to take a vote: Should Shepard/Tali get involved or should it stay Martin/Yala centric? I'm asking because if Shepard and Tali do get involved, it will be a big part of the story, and take away time that would otherwise go to Martin and Yala. So let's get out and vote! Make your voices heard!