Mass Effect: Murphy's Law

by TacoWrath

"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong", the old saying goes. Survivors of a freak accident that took place in 2023, two brilliant scientists are recruited into Alliance Task Force "Cerebellum" to work on cutting-edge technology alongside other talented minds. Little did they know, their work would slowly end up reshaping the galaxy as an ancient enemy emerged from dark space.

116. Epilogue

…

Twenty-Four Years Later

…

I snapped awake as the ship jolted, vibrating as we pierced Arnhem's upper atmosphere. I sat up, grabbing the overhead bar of my pod as I depolarized the window next to me to watch the descent. The turbulence settled as clouds began rolling by, turning quite majestic until the moment we broke the lower layer, revealing the city of Aerilon far below. It was far better than in the vids.

Arnhem itself was a stereotypical "bread basket" world, initially settled by the very first wave of Raloi extrasolar astronauts. Named after a city on Earth and located in the Abydonia Prime system, it was deemed the ultimate solution to the then-pressing widespread hunger suffered by the Raloi people. Due to its relative proximity to the relay network, it briefly became a location many refugees fled to during the Reaper War, mostly humans, volus, and asari. This caused tensions between the new arrivals and the House Madan farmers already settled on the planet. After numerous negotiations, the Volus agreed to help the Raloi integrate their economy with the rest of the galaxy as the Raloi handed over several less-suitable farmlands on the planet for them to settle and build on themselves. Putting many of their issues to rest, the two groups eventually worked together to build cities and coexist with one another, creating a unique culture distinct from the rest of the Confederation worlds. The largest of these cities, Aerilon, became the capital of Arnhem, and was also the largest trade port near the edge of Confederation space.

Arnhem itself and other habitable worlds received a massive boost in colonial charter support after the Pegasus Offensive two years ago, proving the Confederation was fully capable of defending their worlds from organized crime in the former Terminus, almost mirroring the results of the Skyllian Blitz thirty years ago. Arnhem itself, formerly right on the edge of the Terminus, was now more of a "jumping off" point towards the latest colonies to be established in the newly-acquired territory. This didn't diminish its significance, though.

Aerilon wasn't nearly as big as Windham back on Reach, but in some ways it was even more spectacular. Being primarily influenced by the Raloi given their prior population, it had many of the structural elements you'd find in the cities on their home planet of Turviss. That being said, it also was clearly influenced by several human and asari designs. Most of the refugees during the war came from Illium, meaning there had been plenty of structural engineers around to help plan these cities alongside the Raloi. It was especially heavy on the concept of "green architecture", even more than Windham, with a massive underground water system dedicated to dealing with the huge seasonal floods that would often hit this region.

Watching it now, I knew it would be a departure of sorts from Windham. I opened the door to my tiny passenger pod, watching several other people get out and gather their luggage from above. I was currently a passenger aboard the MSV Brahma, an old demilitarized Galleon-class reconfigured for ferrying travelers under a Xenphon Transport contract. It was a little cramped, sure, but you couldn't beat the price and punctuality.

"Attention passengers, this is your Captain. We have begun our descent towards Rijn Spaceport, and will be landing shortly. Please be ready to depart, and make sure all your luggage and valuables are with you. Any items left aboard following your departure will become property of the ship and crew." The Captain, a Raloi from the sound of it, announced over the intercom as I grabbed my bags from the overhead compartment.

I smirked, hefting my two bags as I walked towards the middle of the ship, my center of gravity shifting slightly as we turned into the spaceport for our landing. I stood there in line with the other 15 passengers, ready to depart.

"First time travelling?" One of the passengers asked, getting me to flip around and face him. He was a Quarian, fully masked with a dark navy blue envirosuit.

"No… but also yes. I've traveled, just not here before." I answered with a smile, feeling the minor shock wear off rather quickly as the clunk of the ship's landing gear deploying could be heard.

"At least you have some experience… this is a whole new feeling for me." He nodded rather fast, quickly turning to face the airlock. "When my mother told me I'd be going on a Pilgrimage, I was a bit intimidated. I decided coming here was likely safer than risking Council space."

"Interesting, not many Quarians still go on Pilgrimages these days." I remarked with interest, turning back around to face him as I pulled several blond hairs out of my face. "You from Rannoch?"

"Y-yes. I've got a job lined up here at Eisen Industries. Hopefully I'll earn enough to buy something nice for my family." He nodded once more, getting me to grin with how seemingly sheepish he was, flipping back around to face me. "Oh, sorry. Mito'Yonis nar Rannoch. Nice to meet you."

He offered a handshake as I could feel the maneuvering thrusters blasting outside. I smiled, accepting the gesture without hesitation.

"Elle Michaels, UCN." I returned, finding this little chance interaction very enjoyable.

"Oh, you're that journalist from Reach? Why are you all the way out here?" He questioned, trying to make friendly conversation despite how nervous he seemed.

"I'm working on a book about the war, and I'm here looking for someone I want to interview." I answered plainly as we landed, jolting the ship enough to make me move about an inch. "Woah, these old Gallions are springy."

"Those felt like older HV-800 heavy-duty shocks. They're springier because they're meant for landing on soft ground." He immediately explained, getting me to cock one of my eyebrows up. "They're more durable than the 900 series, but harder to find these days."

"Heh, I'll take your word for it. Engineering isn't one of my strong suits." I chuckled, shaking my head as the airlock opened wide, a ramp deploying for us.

"Thank you for riding with Xenphon. Please enjoy the rest of your day." The Captain finished over the intercom, getting me hyped for what was outside.

We all walked out into the open, sun shafts shining majestically through the spaceport's upper supports. I breathed deeply, taking in the smell of the air. It was vastly different from the colder northern air of Windham. Here, it was more earthy and moist, likely a byproduct of the city's green architecture and location near the equator.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Elle." Mito finished, giving me a quick little nod. "Maybe we'll meet again someday."

"Perhaps. We can only go where the waves take us." I grinned, unable to shake the enthusiasm he had instilled in me. "Good luck with your job."

"Thanks, I really do appreciate it." He nodded as we went our separate ways.

I had some reading to do in the center of the city, but before that I'd sample the local cuisine. If I was spending the credits to travel out this far, I was going to absorb everything this place had to offer.

…

One Week Earlier

...

I sat in my parents' living room, watching the clouds move between the mountains as I did every time I visited. I had been incredibly lucky to grow up with such an awe-inspiring sightline, and no matter how many times I came back to it, it never gets old. I then looked at my grandfather's old class ring on my finger, smiling as I felt over each of the small scratches and imperfections it had seen over my father, grandfather and I's lifetimes.

I had three younger siblings, all of which I had ended up looking after a fair bit over the years. The second oldest behind me was Gary, my brother. He was twenty-two, currently going to Grissom Academy to become an engineer like my father. He was thick-headed, but had a good spirit when it came to people. Third youngest was Anne, our little sister at nineteen years. She was working on an administrative internship at Windham City Administration, and was slated to work there full-time when it was over. She could be a little difficult to deal with sometimes, acting like a know-it-all, but in the end she was alright and knew how to handle herself around the bureaucratic types. Last but not least was our little brother Mark at seventeen years old. He was still in grade school, and was currently in his "antisocial" phase. While annoying right now, I hoped he would grow out of it.

I waited patiently for my father to come back from the military base, having finally promised to give me an interview about his life and experiences leading to the beginning and end of the Reaper War. It was all for a book about the conflict I was in the process of writing. I didn't see my father nearly as much as I would have liked these days. He was always busy with his company or going on trips to liaison between the core Confederation worlds. It didn't leave him with a lot of free time.

Still, the work he was doing was good. Even after all these years since the end of the war, there was still a lot of damage remaining. The advancements he and the rest of them worked on were constantly improving lives, and they weren't showing any signs of stopping.

After the war, most of the major militaries were in shambles. Out of all of them, the only three that were still in any shape to do their jobs effectively were the Systems Alliance, Turian Hierarchy, and the Migrant Fleet. The Geth were in considerably better shape than most, but they had taken a beating from the Reapers during the war's climax. The Raloi's galactic military presence hadn't really expanded past their home system before the end of the conflict, though their growth had been explosive afterwards.

Since the Systems Alliance, Migrant Fleet, Geth Collective, and Raloi Technocracy were already staunch allies under the Articles of United Confederation, they were quick to help each other rebuild. Things went slowly at first, with new techniques needing to be developed to clean up Reaper corpses that had been left everywhere and repair all the damage left in their wake. The Reach System that my father, godfather and their old colleague Jack Windham developed had become vital in the post-war atmosphere due to the growth of the Confederation. These days, everyone uses the Reach System to get around the galaxy, and the Relay network was little more than an express shipping lane or an emergency route in the eyes of most, especially those in Confederation space.

The United Confederation were now the primary peacekeepers around the galaxy, having unofficially taken the mantle over after the destruction of most of the Council's forces in the Reaper War. The Confederation grew explosively after the conflict, using the tech they had standardized to run trade and distribution throughout the Milky Way galaxy. Using their influence and military strength, they managed to pacify over 80% of the Terminus Systems and claim most of the large chunk of space once dominated by pirates, slavers, and small-time dictators in only a few decades. They also set up mining and colonization prospects in places once thought impossible.

The Citadel had suffered incredible damage at the end of the war, far more than it had during Sovereign's attempted takeover in 2183, temporarily leaving the station stranded in the habitable pocket of the Galactic Core. Eventually, the Council was able to repair enough of the damage to have it moved back to the Serpent Nebula, but four years had gone by at that point, meaning many of the businesses, trade, and citizenry had moved on to greener pastures. This sole point may have been the biggest contributing factor to the Confederation's growth the last few decades, but either way it didn't really matter. The Citadel was simply a place in the end, and one with a very dark history the more you read into the cycles of extinction it helped propagate. The Council itself was still very much a major power, though a lot of races had lost faith in their ability to lead after their botched handling of the Reaper War. The Citadel's near-destruction and post-war condition had quite the demoralizing effect on the Council, and nullified their ability to browbeat "non-member races". Despite all of this, they still refused to give the Quarian or Geth an embassy, and haven't offered the Raloi one ever since they turned down membership decades ago.

It wasn't that they needed one, sure, but the message had been made clear long ago. They were a bunch of stuck-ups trapped in their old ways of thinking, and many believed their authority could collapse soon if they suffered any more blows to their popularity. While it would certainly be interesting if such an event occurred, no one really wanted to see the Council fail. Who knew how much chaos could ensue if it all came tumbling down. In recent years, tensions have lessened, and they've seemingly grown to view us as a rival of sorts, even going so far as to give Confederation forces their own, derisive nicknames. These included such gems as "Clanks", for the sound the standard-issue exo suits made when running, "Squawkers" and "Bird Men" for Raloi troops specifically, and "Tin Men" for Geth, among other names thrown around before and after the war. The most widely used one, however, was "Confeds", a nickname that has become a standard around the galaxy. It was simple, and held a certain endearing quality to those it was meant to insult.

Reach had remained the Quarian people's primary colony world after the resettling of Rannoch, but had become far more of a melting pot the last few years and was now the home of Confederation Congress in Windham City, the capital of the planet and my current home. The city had been designed and planned by my parents, their friends, and other engineers with numerous inspirations taken from "the old media". It was an entirely self-contained "fortress city", having its own dedicated support facilities, a full division of garrisoned Confederation soldiers, and hidden batteries of weapons placed in strategic locations, all part of a contingency plan in case the city was ever attacked. While the armed forces of each race had originally devoted a portion of their own forces towards defense, the Reaper War had proven how well the various races could work with one another. This led to the Confederation creating its own specialized, mixed military units. The Confederation was the first military force to do so on such a large scale. It was impressive what they had done in such a short amount of time, especially considering the damage the Reapers had left in their wake.

Our primary exports on the planet-side were fish, raw ores and wood, but the space-side was the real economic powerhouse. Due to our shipyards being not only mobile but defended by the orbital defense grid, we were now the primary shipbuilders in the post-war galaxy. Every day, high-end ships utilizing Confederation and Reaper tech, either developed during or reverse-engineered after the war, sailed away, bolstering the ever-growing UCNF in the rapidly-shrinking Terminus Systems. Nearly every race at one point or another has commissioned us for starships due to their advanced defensive and offensive technology.

The Krogans were actually one of the fastest-growing governments to come out of the Reaper War since the cure to the Genophage was bestowed upon them. Thankfully, their leaders, Urdnots Wrex and Eve, were smart and didn't allow their people to devolve into their violent old ways. My father compared them to a fictional alien "warrior" race called the Klingons. They were given several new systems to inhabit off the old Relay network, and were actually being considered for membership into the Confederation for their stability in the post-war environment. Watching the vid recordings of their negotiations with Congress was always… interesting, but nothing like those that took place with the Council centuries ago.

On the other end of the spectrum, the war had nearly destroyed the Batarian people, who were struggling to rebuild after most of their population was annihilated before and after the invasion. Most of the survivors had gathered together on a handful of new worlds in the Terminus to try and repopulate, though it was still unknown if they had enough genetic diversity to survive without gene therapy in the coming generations. My father still wasn't a huge fan of them, but they had slowly transitioned from and abandoned their slaver "culture", moving to a more agrarian one after he helped save them years ago. There still existed Batarian pirate bands in the Terminus that tried to maintain the old ways of the Hegemony, but they held little to no power these days.

The Rachni, a very late addition to the war effort, nevertheless ended up being "quite vital" in infiltrating the Citadel during the second Battle of the Citadel, according to my father. They still resided in an uncharted system far from any major colonial developments, remaining quite illusive with the spectre of the Rachni War still fresh in some minds, mainly Asari and Krogan ones. Their emissary, Jallere, occasionally negotiated with Congress whenever trade treaties were being discussed, and Rachni workers could often be seen in the orbital shipyards lending their craftsmanship to the vessels built there. I still found them creepy, but I was never around them long enough to feel anxious.

Cerberus had also remained a problem much to my father's frustration. The few holdouts who hadn't participated in the Director's attempted takeover of the Citadel were hidden in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Most of the remaining agents formed small splinter groups dedicated to the ideals laid out in The Illusive Man's original manifesto. They were in no way the same threat that they were before, but had been responsible for several terrorist attacks in recent years and remained a pressing issue for the Confederation to this day.

My mother, father, and their friends ended up creating a company called Mjölnir Titanworks after the post-war environment had calmed down, staffing it with many of the people they had worked with over the years. They named it after the hammer wielded by Thor, Norse God of Thunder, and used the business to patent their best tech designs, making them available on the galactic market. Currently, it was among the top ten tech companies in the galaxy, and like the Confederation Congress, it was also based in Windham City. They created it mostly so they could begin providing for themselves again, and be reasonably independent from other governments. Though they had remained subtle about it, my parents and their colleagues had become trillionaires seemingly overnight from their patents, and were sought out across the galaxy for their expertise.

My siblings and I have grown up in a great environment, getting a mixed human/quarian education over the course of our childhoods. I spoke several languages other than American English without the use of a translator, including Russian, Khelish, and a little bit of Sescran, the Raloi language. I was also a fairly skilled mathematician in my own right, having won first place in several large competitions during my childhood against the very best in the Confederation. Despite everything I was taught though, I had decided to become a writer and journalist for the United Confederation Network, choosing it as my career path. We were very lucky to live here among some of the smartest people in the galaxy, and cherished every single one of them as our extended family.

I watched my father roll up to the house on his custom-built quad bike, a hydrogen combustion design. He wore his old leather jacket, taking off his helmet to reveal a full head of gunmetal grey hair. His beard and moustache always looked so cool, and had only grown more immaculate after the last of his hair shifted from brown to grey and white. I quickly checked the table in front of me one last time, making sure my recorder and notebook were in the right spot before he walked inside.

"Wow, what a day it has been." He announced from the open doorway, setting his helmet down on the table as he made eye contact with me. "Hey there, Elle!"

"Hi Dad!" I returned, walking over and giving him a big hug. "It's been too long."

"Three months is a long time." He nodded, closing the door before looking into my eyes. "How's the city treating you? Do you still like the apartment your mother and I suggested?"

"It's fine Dad, really." I reassured, leaning forwards slightly as I put one hand on his left shoulder. "You shouldn't worry so much, I can handle myself."

"I know… you know you'll always be our baby girl." He said with a big smile, walking over to the kitchen. "Just remember, If the whole journalism gig doesn't work out, your mother and I have no qualms with supporting you financially."

"I appreciate the thought, but you know I want to make my own living." I reiterated, knowing that he meant well. "How's that "Space Invaders 1999" project of yours going?"

"Pretty well, actually. I managed to get one of our smaller reactors to fit inside the frame, though it still takes up more space than I'd like." He explained, his big smile somehow growing larger. "It's certainly a little difficult to control at the moment, but it's better than testing it with the full turret already attached."

"Not to sound rude, father, but that thing still looks like a deathtrap." I remarked, thinking the project was a silly endeavor on his part.

He was building a "childhood obsession" of his, a "hover tank" featured in an obscure version of Space Invaders from 1999. It held no real practical use as a utilitarian or military design, and only existed as one of his personal side projects. I joked before that if he ever finished it, he'd have the most expensive device in the Confederation to shoot clay pigeons with. He thought that was actually quite funny.

"Nah, I already had a special helmet made for it. Can't stop now. Besides, I want to rub it in Dan's face when I prove I can make it work." He joked, putting his utility belt down on the counter top. "So, no one's giving you any trouble, I hope? No one my posse and I need to... straighten out?"

"No, but I did meet a nice guy from the Alliance who I recently went on a date with." I replied, knowing what he was getting at with his comment. "He works in R&D. Has an old house back on Earth, pre-Reaper War, all intact."

"Hm, interesting." He nodded before burying his face in the fridge, rummaging around inside of it for a few moments before pulling out a can of Pepsi and a small pack of sharp cheddar. "So, where do you want him buried?"

"Dad! I'm serious." I said, unable to keep myself from laughing just a bit at how absurd he was. "He really is an interesting guy… I'm starting to like him."

"Elle, you should know by now I'm immediately going to hate any man you speak positively about." He shot back, taking a seat in his recliner. "But enough of that, you didn't come here just to hear me threaten your boyfriend."

"Right." I immediately agreed, turning on my recorder and picking up my notepad. "Uh… where should I start?"

I began to flip through my notes, trying to find the starting point again as my father watched with curious eyes. I had interviewed plenty of people before, but considering it was my father this time, I was nervous about getting everything perfect.

"May I make a suggestion?" He asked, leaning forward in his chair as he looked down at my notes. "Forget these, and just focus on whatever questions come to your mind. Your... information will flow much more organically. You don't have to worry about offending me."

"Alright then. This is Elle Michaels, recording Dr. Sean Michaels, CEO of Mjölnir Titanworks, for the book Scientific Minds: Engineering The Future." I recorded, dropping the notes and looking into his eyes. "Let's start with your childhood. What was it like for you, growing up? Any struggles, big fights, anything?"

"Hm… it is kind of funny that you mention that first, I was just thinking about it yesterday." He admitted, taking a swig of his soda before going on. "Growing up was a difficult experience for me, especially as a child with undiagnosed Asperger's Syndrome. I was frequently bullied, and got into a fair share of fights. Processing emotions and social queues at that age was extremely difficult, and as a result I had no true friendships until I entered my third year of high school."

"You had no friends?" I repeated for emphasis, jotting down as much as I could on my old-fashioned notepad.

"No one who I could really call a close friend." He clarified, taking a slice of sharp cheddar and popping it into his mouth. "At the time, I differentiated between people as either acquaintances or friends. It was a dark time in my life, especially middle school and all the hellishness it came with."

"Hellishness?" I repeated, curious as to what he meant.

"Well, when I mentioned the way I differentiate between people, that was only half true." He said, holding out his open hand. "There's really five categories. People I don't know, people who I consider threats, people I'm neutral to, then acquaintances and friends. First impressions are the key."

He took another quick swig of his soda before rubbing his chin in thought.

"Anyways, that's how it was for a long time until I met Dan." He grinned, nodding gently as he looked off to the side.

"Tell me about Uncl-, I mean Dr. Dan Nemo." I quickly corrected, trying not to allow my personal influences to get in the way of the questions. "How'd you two meet?"

"Heh, he and I met during one of our science classes, a computer-aided design course if I remember it correctly." He leaned back, allowing an even bigger grin to form on his face. "First time I saw him, I admittedly wrote him off as strange, but then I began to notice other things about him."

"Such as?" I prodded, folding my legs and getting myself comfortable on the couch.

"His apparent lack of interest in group projects, slow pace, non-existent social skills… he was just like me when I was in elementary school." He smiled, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at me. "Like me, but with more... pronounced problems."

"What kind of problems, if you don't mind me asking?" I urged, getting a slightly more uncomfortable look from my father.

"Well, he didn't get a lot of the same help I did when developing." He slowly answered, leaning forward in his chair. "Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with Dan and he had fine upbringings, but he has a tendency towards what I'd call… extreme problem solving. Remember the Ender's Game books?"

"I recall them very well." I nodded, wanting to keep the conversation going.

"Well, imagine Ender's fight against Stilson and you have a perfect image of how Dan handles fight or flight situations." He finished, rubbing the back of his neck. "Luckily, you've never seen Dan when he's confronted with a threat. Normally he's unassuming and quiet, but if something happens to him or his friends, its..."

He paused, staring into space for a few moments as if viewing a picture or recording in his mind before quickly looking back at me.

"Nevermind. Besides, who am I to talk about Dan's past? It's probably better to ask him directly about it." He deflected, taking a sip from the soda can. "Anyways, you wanted to know more about how we became engineers, right?"

"Oh, yes!" I nodded, refocusing myself mentally. "You and Dr. Nemo are responsible for some of the greatest technological developments in the last thirty years. How did it all start?"

"The Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Mens et Manus." He answered bluntly, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "Shortly before graduating high school, we dug through the extranet and libraries back home in Maryland trying to come up with our "big idea" that'd earn us a scholarship."

He smiled, holding his hand in the air and turning them side to side as if holding a basketball.

"We read about a year when a whole bunch of scientists from various universities, including MIT, demonstrated the first compact integrated silicon chip that could measure the Casimir force. We found this fascinating, so we decided we'd base our idea around quantum field theory, specifically wormholes." He began explaining, straightening his fingers before tenting them. "Without going too deep into the technicalities of it, we came up with a theoretical equation that would be capable of "stabilizing" naturally occurring wormholes, brute-forcing them into a larger, more usable size."

"That sounds fascinating." I said, leaning towards him as I got drawn completely in. "For what applications?"

"Well, we had always been interested in faster-than-light travel, and initially thought this could be used to send spacecraft anywhere in the universe." He went on, getting a bright look in his eyes before it immediately dropped off again. "Unfortunately, we later realized the amount of power and resources needed for something like that wasn't at all practical, so we amended it to suggest wormholes for personal transportation, like people."

"So, what happened to it?" I asked, pushing the topic as far as it would go.

"It got us into MIT." He answered bluntly, disappointing me slightly with how nonplussed he seemed about it. "While the framework was there, no one, including Dan and I, have managed to actually figure out a proper apparatus for the equations. We've looked into it a few times since our college days, but it's kind of a dead end by this point."

"That's disappointing." I lamented, shaking my head. "So, once there, what did you two do?"

"We went through a lot of practical engineering courses." He chuckled, popping another piece of cheese into his mouth before putting on a slightly more exaggerated face. "I can't stress how important the lathe is."

"Imparting another piece of wisdom on me, father?" I joked, seeing that he was making a mockery of someone.

"Just a small quote from one of my old professors. Even though he was right, that didn't stop us from making fun of his fanatical devotion to the lathe, printing press, and steam engine." He shook his head, likely remembering the old days fondly based on the warm look that emanated from his face. "We mastered several disciplines at MIT, including engineering, mathematics, physics, and architecture. My personal favorite will always be space architecture. In the end, we both got our diplomas and went on to join Alliance R&D."

"At the time, why did you two choose the Alliance?" I leaned back, putting both my hands on my left knee. "Surely there were plenty of private organizations looking for talented individuals such as you and Dr. Nemo."

"While that is a sure fact, we didn't like the idea of our inventions being locked in some corporate vault to be bought or sold to the highest bidder." He explained, running his hand through his hair. "In Alliance R&D we'd have to fight over contracts, sure, but there existed a much better chance of our inventions being used to help people, military or otherwise."

"And that's where you met mother, correct?" I pushed along, getting a mildly embarrassed look from my father.

"In a sense." He wearily answered, rubbing the back of his neck. "When I met your mother, she was Dr. Mara Ford, a fierce woman incredibly protective of her research. To put it bluntly, when we first began working with one another, we hated each other."

"Hated?!" I blurted out, unable to imagine my mother and father, two of the most embarrassingly loving people in the galaxy, ever hating each other at any point.

"Oh yes, hated." He nodded, letting out a huff of air through his nose as he closed his eyes. "She was so determined to make her mark in the scientific community at the time that she saw Dan and I's development of the Nemo-Michaels reactor system as a threat to her academic credibility."

"So what changed then?" I prodded, wanting to know more about my mother and father's initial relationship.

"Well, after a heated argument between us a few months later, I invited her on to work on our Ionized Plasma Projector, still in its infancy at the time." He recalled, looking out the window for a moment as he collected his thoughts. "Without her expertise in the field of thermal projection, we might have never gotten the weapon past its early stages."

"How did you two… you know, get involved romantically?" I reluctantly asked, admittedly feeling a little squicked out by the images that entered my head.

"Well, that question leads into other topics. I'd be hard-pressed to just skip over the events that led us to what used to be the Migrant Fleet." He danced around the subject, likely for the better at the given moment. "Now, I don't have to tell you what Cerberus is."

"Of course not." I shook my head, knowing full well what the organization was, and how large of a threat they were and still are.

"Well, Cerberus raided our research facility orbiting Mercury, killing over ninety-percent of our staff and imprisoning us." He went on, an uncomfortable look crawling onto his face as he rubbed his abdomen. "Narrowly escaping a month later and finding ourselves with nothing but an experimental ship, we fled to the only safe location we could think of. The Migrant Fleet."

The look on his face said it all. This was obviously a painful memory for him.

"How'd you and your colleagues integrate with the Quarians at the time?" I asked, pushing past the subject of Cerberus. "It couldn't have been easy, all of you being accepted into an environment as isolated as the Migrant Fleet at that time."

"It most certainly wasn't easy." He nodded, rubbing his left earlobe. "The Admirals in particular were incredibly hard to get along with, especially Admirals Han'Gerrel and Rael'Zorah. The two of them were thick as thieves, and absolutely hated me and my crew."

"Why did they hate you so much?" I prodded, curious as to what the dynamic was like between them. "I was under the impression your arrival ended up being a boon to the quarian people."

"Well, Rael and Gerrel were part of the old "sect" of quarians that believed in total isolation, quietly brooding along the borders of civilized space, dreaming of the day when they'd retake Rannoch and destroy the Geth." He remarked in an exaggerated tone, sounding unimpressed even when said by himself. "I was only tolerated by them for the most part. They could have cared less about our plight."

I was surprised by his admission, and the idea that anyone could treat my mother, father, and extended family like that in the face of what they had offered them. It was something I had never heard of until now. The tense atmosphere that had formed in the wake of this revelation was immediately shattered as my father let out a deep chuckle.

"What's so funny?" I asked, genuinely confused by how quickly his demeanor had changed.

"I was just remembering a really funny moment I had with Gerrel… wasn't so funny back when it happened years ago, but looking back on it now… it's pretty funny." He smirked, trying hard to stifle his own laughter. "I ended up punching that S.O.B. straight in the gut after he had said something particularly off-color about Dan, I remember. That was a hard one to get myself out of. He got better, though Rael died before the Reaper War."

"Was that when they sent you off to explore uncharted systems?" I pushed, knowing the story of my father's mission in 2185 quite well by this point.

"Yes." He nodded, the joyful expression slipping off of his face for a moment before coming back. "Though boring, it ultimately ended up leading to one of the greatest discoveries of my younger years."

"You are referring to the discovery of the Raloi home system, correct?" I led on, getting a quick nod from him.

"Heh… the Raloi… an assignment meant to punish me for striking a quarian Admiral ended up being a grand discovery that helped accelerate our research into eezo-based tech ten-fold." He recalled, looking into open space as if looking at something I couldn't see. "The Raloi are such amazing people… fierce, proud, and above all else, dependable. With them on our side, we had a serious advantage in the war."

"How'd the introduction of the Raloi into the galactic scene affect the balance of power between the Citadel Council and the Migrant Fleet?" I probed further, wanting to push the subject as far as possible. "It's said by some that, for a time, the Quarians treated the Raloi almost like vassals."

"That's a gross exaggeration." I shook his head, sounding mildly put-off by my statement. "When we first came across the Raloi, they barely had any presence in space other than a few satellites and telescopes. We knew letting them grow too quickly might lead to negative societal effects, so for a time we did curtail their spread. Once their tech and society had caught up, we immediately gave them free reign to do what they wished."

"The Council still claims the refusal to accept investigators into the Raloi home system was a massive violation of Citadel law." I added, seeing my father's eyelids droop in response. "Do you believe their claims hold any weight?"

"Nope." He immediately dismissed, chugging down the last bit of soda in his can. "See, at the time, the Terminus Systems were lawless regions filled with all manner of pirates, slavers, and warlords. The Council was so worried about starting a war with the Terminus factions that they had refused to even send patrols there, let alone try to claim worlds or enforce any laws. When the Migrant Fleet discovered the Klenot Nebula and settled here, we became one of the first governments to put permanent holdings in this vast region of the galaxy. The Migrant Fleet had always operated its own laws, so for the Council to claim we were in the wrong when they refused to even consider the region, I'd say that's a lie through omission."

"Hm… how did the schism in the Quarian Admiralty affect the balance of power? It occurred only three months before the Reapers invaded the galaxy, after all." I went on, knowing my father had been an instrumental part of what happened between the Admirals.

"Ah, the Keluaran Contingency. That was an interesting time in my life." He smiled, leaning back with both hands behind his head. "Admirals Ysin'Mal and Zaal'Koris… what they pulled off was genius looking back on it. The other three, Gerrel, Raan, and Zadie, wanted to start their long-touted war against the Geth with the Reapers only months away. Not only did the contingency halt their plans long enough to prove the Reapers were a real threat, but it led to the creation of the Confederation… heh, some of the Quarians still call me Admiral after all these years."

I couldn't help but mimic my father's glowing smile. He was still proud of his role in the United Confederation's formation all these years later.

"With the rise of the Confederation during and after the Reaper War, the Terminus Systems were further explored and pacified, creating stability the Council never managed to bring to the Terminus." I pressed on, getting a more energetic look from my father. "Do you believe the Confederation is poised to outpace and overtake the Council, perhaps even supersede it?"

I may have had my own thoughts about the comparisons between the Confederation and the Council, but I wanted to hear my father's honest take on it. He usually wasn't one to talk politics, especially around us, his kids.

"Hm, that's a good one." He nodded, leaning his head back to the side. "While I believe the Council is corrupt and a shadow of its former self, I don't think I'd want to see it collapse. Despite all its problems, they're good trading partners, have more political experience, and are a good stabilizing element in the systems they control. The Confederation is still relatively new, and if it spreads too far too fast, it'll strain logistical lines and hinder its own ability to protect colony worlds under their jurisdiction."

"As their Senior Scientific Advisor and one of the major contributors to their technological base, do you believe you've had a direct effect on the pace of their growth?" I probed, getting a smirk in response as he leaned back in his chair.

"Despite my frequent involvement in politics, I actually hate politicians and the decision-making behind what goes into a political system, especially one that can be as… involved as a confederation. A confederation only has as much power as the governments behind it allow it to have. That being said, my involvement with the formation of the United Confederation did lead to them gaining much more ground than they would have otherwise." He skirted around the question, giving me a moment of pause. "I've always had at least one foot in the political realm, and my name and the associations behind it have always given me some weight when it comes to certain policies."

"Interesting… that'll be a good chapter." I mused, sticking the back of my pen in my mouth as I thought about the next topic. "Let's see… what are your plans going forward? Any major projects that you can tell me about?"

"Well, there is one big project we're working on currently. It's a terraforming machine called Project Vivarium." He smiled, opening up his omni-tool to show me the blueprint of a large ground structure. "We're planning on building large processing facilities, powered by our proprietary reactor technology, that'll introduce oxygen, nitrogen, and other trace elements into a target world's atmosphere, slowly converting it into a livable world. The Turians managed to do this for one of their moons, so the concept has been proven. We're looking to do this on a larger, commercial scale, setting up Confederation-backed company towns that'll maintain these processing facilities while building up and populating the colony."

"What are your projected completion dates for such a project?" I asked, leaning forward in genuine interest.

"We're hoping for a twelve to eighteen year processing period, but depending on the size, surface area, and gravity of the target planet, those numbers could fluctuate wildly." He answered, closing his omni-tool as he put one foot on the coffee table. "Our first "proof-of-concept" processors will be built on Praetor, one of the uninhabitable planets we discovered between Reach and Turviss."

"Sounds like an exciting new move for your company." I smiled, turning off the recorder and closing my notepad, carefully putting both back into my purse. "Thanks again, Dad. I'm sure I'll have more questions in the future."

"If you need me, you know where to find me." He reassured me, standing up and giving me a tight hug. "Don't be a stranger, you hear? You're always welcome to stop by for dinner whenever you'd like."

"Maybe I'll bring my boyfriend next time." I chuckled as he put on a faux serious face, cracking his knuckles. "Dad!"

"I'm just joking." He shook his head, getting that goofy smile on his face again. "Tell Dan I said hi when you see him."

"I will. Bye Dad." I finished, waving goodbye to him as I walked out into the cool valley air, bringing a refreshing rise to my chest as I walked down the stairs.

This had been an interesting start to my day. I was looking forward to my next interview.

...

Near the heart of Windham City, Mjölnir Titanworks Headquarters, aka "The Shard", towered over the skyline, clearly one of the larger non-governmental buildings downtown at 160 floors, not counting the numerous classified sub-levels below it. Being next to the shoreline certainly helped to make sure you didn't miss it.

Despite being one of the biggest, it appeared the most simple, lacking any extravagant curves or intricacies in its architecture unlike some neighboring buildings. It was built in a simple triangle shape for the most part, with a full uninterrupted glass exterior that matched the color of the sky, giving it an ethereal, clean appearance with the exception of the roof and other sky-facing areas. Near the bottom third of the building, it became segmented into "separate" triangle shapes of the same style, giving it a look reminiscent of a puzzle piece of some kind. My Dad designed it under the pseudonym J.C. Thomas, and apparently took a lot of design elements and even the name from a similar building in an old video game he had played years ago. The grounds around the building were of a similar clean and angular style, using bright neon blues, oranges, and whites. Despite this, it was much "comfier" with trees, benches, and a large, twenty-foot tall statue in front of the main entrance depicting Jack Windham, one of the original members of my Dad's team.

Out of everyone I wanted to interview for this book, Jack Windham would have been the one I had turned to in the blink of an eye. From the way my parents and the rest of my extended family talked about him, he was practically a saint. Involved in much of humanity's early work with the Prothean archives on Mars, he was most well known for developing the then-experimental Gravity Drive FTL system. While he had finished his work back in 2127, it only became viable after Dan and my father developed their Nemo-Michaels reactors. The wave this eventually sent throughout the galaxy rewrote the book on FTL travel, and removed the need for the ancient Relay network entirely. Sadly, he never got to see the effect he had on the galaxy, but died surrounded by his friends.

The solid metal statue depicted him looking up at the sky, smiling as he held a portfolio under his right arm and kept his free hand in his lab coat pocket. It was simple, yet striking. I believe it captured the man in a moment of pure thought, thinking about the possibilities he had created for everyone in the galaxy. I always had to stop and stare at it before going inside. It, and this city, were the best tributes my parents could give a man that had given them and everyone else so much.

Walking into the massive lobby of The Shard, I always felt awestruck. It was immaculately decorated with simple water fixtures, plants, and artistic stone reliefs that depicted the history of its founding. It was easy to see the influence my mother, father, and their friends had here, and on the rest of the world. Old examples of their technology, either scale models or deactivated, real-life examples were proudly displayed behind thick, starship-grade glass for all to see. They each featured small engraved placards with lengthy descriptions, and a detailed memorial wall capped it all off.

Though this hadn't been my first time here, not by a long shot, it still managed to instill that first-time feeling every time I visited.

The reception desk was simple compared to the rest of the lobby, featuring only the essential space needed for the receptionist to do her job. Her name was Vivi'Leos, and she has been employed here since my father founded the company. Behind her guarding the elevators and doors to the Admin level were two Raloi guards in full red and tan armor, wielding large traditional Raloi staff weapons that complemented their size. Their names were Largos and Rendus, and they were retired members of the Confederation military.

"Hello Elle, it's good to see you again!" Vivi greeted in her usual, warm tone as she leaned forward in her leather office chair, a full smile stretching across her face. "Are you here for your appointment with Dr. Nemo?"

"Yes I am, Vi." I confirmed, handing her my Level 5 ID card for her to scan. "Still going maskless, I see. Isn't that kind of risky for someone who works as a receptionist?"

"Well, it certainly isn't as risky as it used to be." She answered, typing out a log for my card usage as she spoke. "Back when we first started going maskless, we were required to take an immuno-booster shot every twenty-four hours. Nowadays, we only need one every week."

"That's only on established planets, right?" I asked, knowing it was a subject I had failed to read up on the last few years.

"Well, considering Reach has been occupied by my people for so long, I'd assume we'd be at the top of the "exposure" list, right next to Rannoch." She shrugged, handing me back my Level 5 card. "Either way, it's relatively risk-free these days, unless you mingle at nightclubs every night acting like a nymphomaniac."

"I'd imagine that's considered an unhealthy lifestyle for non-quarians too, Vi." I replied, mildly squicked as I put my ID card back in my pocket. "Where is Dr. Nemo, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh yes, I apologize." She chuckled, quickly typing away at her computer as the screen flashed up a wireframe of the building. "He's currently on Floor 98, Lab 7."

"Thank you." I finished, nodding to Largos and Rendus as they both returned it in acknowledgement, placing their free hands against their chests and bowing their heads towards me.

Even after all these years, I could never figure out why they made sure to bow their heads like that to me in particular, and likely never would. I had never heard them mutter a single word. Not once.

Pressing the elevator button, I was surprised to hear the whoosh of an approaching elevator, getting me to walk over to the one in question. Much to my immediate surprise, the door slid open to reveal my mother.

"Oh! Hello Elle!" She greeted me with an immediate smile, walking towards each other and smiling.

"Mom! I didn't expect to run into you here." I stammered, feeling a small rush of adrenaline shoot up my spine. "I was wondering why you weren't home earlier when I interviewed Dad."

"I got called in for a board meeting, one of our new projects is bleeding a bit more money than we expected." She remarked, finally allowing herself to look tired. "It's mostly resolved now, but it'll need more oversight checks."

Even in her older age, she was still as graceful as ever. Her smooth blond hair sat on top of her head in a neat bun, bringing even more attention to her piercing dark blue eyes. She wore a designer set of business clothes, matching grey coat and pants over a simple white button-up shirt. Her shoes were a killer pair of black high heels, and she carried a lightly armored messenger bag with her, slung over her left shoulder.

"You're lookin' good, Mom. Not a day over thirty." I joked, getting her to smirk as she slumped her shoulders slightly.

"You're lucky you get your looks from me, because the snark came from your father." She immediately retaliated with an evil eye, pinching one of my cheeks and getting me to jolt backwards slightly. She laughed at my response as I rubbed my face. "Just wait until you have kids. Then it'll come back to bite your rear in ways you can't possibly imagine."

"Mom! I'm not quite at that point yet and you know it." I chuckled, unable to stay angry at her for more than a few moments. "I like my current boyfriend, but whether or not the rest of the family does is another matter."

"Hmph… sounds to me like your father threatened to kill him, like with your old boyfriend." She somehow correctly guessed, getting my eyebrows to shoot up in surprise once more. "I thought so. I warned you not to tell him until you were sure you found a good one."

"No, I'm pretty sure about-" I began to nod, suddenly noticing the elevator door was about to close. I immediately jumped into range of the sensors, getting the little alarm ring to go off. "Oh! Uh…"

"Heh, I'll talk to you later, hon. Let me know how your interviews go." Mom smirked as she began walking off, the elevator doors closing before I could return the gesture. I stood straight, breathing deeply as I punched in 98.

The elevators were large, having been designed to accommodate species of all sizes. They were also fast, capable of crossing five floors in only two seconds, meaning it only took about thirty-eight seconds to reach Floor 98. My Dad had programmed the speakers in the elevators to constantly play music composed by this old American composer called Henry Mancini. His style was very "jazzy" and "easy listening", but he apparently used to be pretty popular back in the day when he did the scores to some old comedy movies my Dad watched long ago.

Once I reached my destination, the doors slid open revealing a small checkpoint with five guards, most wearing the usual Type III-F exosuits with the company red and tan color scheme. They were posted on every floor for security reasons, checking the ID cards of everyone in the building. Considering the number of things that were worked on at any given time here, it was company policy that all employee and visitor movements be tracked on the premises.

My parents weren't paranoid people, but at times it did come off as a little… excessive. I knew the technology being developed here was considered top-of-the-line, so the possibility of industrial espionage being attempted was higher. Still, it wasn't nearly as bad as the first time I visited the Citadel. It took me nearly three hours before I was even allowed out of Customs.

"ID, please." The lead guard, a Geth, ordered as I pulled it out and presented it to him. He stared at it for a few seconds before nodding and giving it back. "Lab 7 is located down the hall and to the right, Ms. Michaels."

"Thank you." I replied with a smile, walking through the scanner which beeped in confirmation, logging my movement in the building's computer system.

The hallways were abuzz with employee movement, all people personally vetted by my mother, father and their team. They ranged from nearly every species in the galaxy, and were chosen based on their backgrounds and specialties. Considering the capital Mjölnir Titanworks made every year from their research and patents, they could afford to pay their employees far more than other companies of its kind. This obviously made employment here very desirable, as successful contracts meant bonuses for everyone involved, all the way down to manufacturing and distribution.

My father believed that hard work should always be rewarded, which meant a higher quality product, less chance of corporate espionage, and a more creative atmosphere. There were thousands of applicants every month, each trying to score a job at one of the many departments here. In the end, only a handful of the best were chosen, and were given a year's worth of funding to start their projects. Though there existed some level of competition between certain departments, they were encouraged to work together to solve problems, and were even offered further bonuses for doing so successfully.

Ever since the company was founded, only one-hundred and twenty-seven employees have left, and two-hundred and forty-four fired. It was an incredible retention rate considering the workforce from top to bottom was nearing fifty-seven thousand. The only exception was one of the twelve-man test crews, who died when an improperly calibrated Gravity Drive failed mid-jump, turning their ship into subatomic particles. Their names were on the Memorial Wall in the lobby below, alongside Jack Windham, those who died before I was born, and numerous other people who perished during the Reaper War.

It really was a sobering image, seeing the names of all those people on that wall.

Walking into Lab 7, I was immediately greeted by the sound of music. It wasn't unusual to hear him play music whenever I went to meet with him, it was actually quite common. This time, it was music I recognized, The Clash's "Rock The Casbah". Walking in and turning the corner slightly, I finally spotted my interviewee, Uncle Dan. Though he wasn't my uncle, godfather actually, I always referred to him as Uncle when growing up. It was a simple sign of endearance, one I had imparted on every member of Mom and Dad's original team.

"Is that who I think it is?" I heard him say, turning around to face me with a smile on his face. "Hello Elle! G-good to see you!"

Uncle Dan always had an unconventional look to him, his hair was always slick and unkempt, his clothes ruffled, and face wrinkled. It had the effect of making him look a little manic at times, but I knew he was an all-round cheerful guy.

"Good to see you too, Uncle." I returned, walking over and putting my bag down on the table. "Listening to The Clash again?"

"For now." He smiled, turning down the music so we'd be able to hold a conversation without raising our voices. "I've got Queen's "Another One Bites The Dust" queued up next."

"Nice… how's the latest project doing?" I redirected as my eyes drifted to the large assembly in the middle of the floor, filled with all manners of hoses and wires.

"Well, it could be going better." He chuckled, rubbing the side of his neck. "I'm in the middle of designing a n-new, lighter defense platform, one that exclusively uses our "Knight" Particle Laser System. I'm having some issues with the re...recharging times, however."

"What's the exact problem, sir?" I asked, curious as to what his issue was.

"Well, no matter how many times I redesign my a-argon cooling system, it's unable to put out more than one shot every five or six minutes." He explained, gesturing towards a nearby screen that was running simulations. "The platform is useless if it can only fire once every six minutes."

"Hm… what if you used more than one P.L.S. in the platform?" I suggested, getting a quizzical look from him. "You know, kinda like one of those old rotary barrel guns. They use multiple barrels to distribute heat?"

A look of understanding lit up his face before he looked off to the side and turned away from me partially.

"Son of a bitch…" He muttered under his breath, rubbing his hand over the lower part of his face. "I-I'll have to rebuild the entire upper structure to fit them… but yeah, you really are your m-mother and father's child, you know that?"

"That's what it says on my birth certificate." I smiled, pulling out my recorder and notepad. "Before you run off to redesign your whole system again, would you mind sitting down for an interview?"

"Heh, sure." He agreed, sitting down across from me on a lab stool. "You'll have to for...forgive me, I spend way too much time in the labs these days."

"You're doing important work, Uncle." I reassured, starting my recorder as I opened up my notebook. "This is Elle Michaels, recording Dr. Dan Nemo, Head of Engineering at Mjölnir Titanworks, for the book Scientific Minds: Engineering The Future. Dr. Nemo, start at the beginning… what can you tell me about your childhood? Any challenges, struggles, anything like that?"

"Well, that's a bit… complicated." He shrugged, leaning on the table as he stared at my recorder. "I had a decent upbringing, I suppose. I was never much of a pe...people person, so I didn't really interact with a lot of folks outside of my family."

"What was your family like?" I inquired, pushing further into the subject.

"Well, it was a little… disorganized." He winced, looking slightly uncomfortable. "My Mom and Dad divorced when I was in elementary school, so I was bounced around between houses until I was of legal age."

"Oh… it must have been difficult." I remarked in a sympathetic tone, leaning forward. "What kind of dynamic did that create?"

"Not as big of one as you'd think." He explained, taking a deep breath. "Mom had my sister and I most days of the week, and my Dad signed me up for CAP at age 12 to keep me busy. I ended up doing that for six years until I quit at the t-tail-end of high school."

"What's "CAP", if you don't mind me asking?" I prodded, curious to know what he was talking about.

"Oh, right. CAP is shorthand for Civil Air Patrol. It was an old fede...federally supported non-profit that ran in the United Sta… United North American States… probably still does to this day." He said, exhaling sharply through his nose before cracking a smile. "We were an au-auxiliary to UNAAF, but all we really ended up doing was a lot of marching and running."

"Sounds boring." I commented, getting him to grin.

"There's a reason why I quit." He joked, tenting his fingers as I focused on me. "Besides, MIT had just accepted your father and I's applications, I didn't have time for CAP any...anymore even if I did enjoy it."

"Let's take it back a bit. How'd you and my father meet?" I redirected, leaning forward as I peered occasionally at my notes.

"Our last year of high school, we had both been placed into Ad...Advanced Tech Applications due to our… unwillingness to take a World Language course. Thank God for instant translators." He smiled, crossing his arms as he leaned back as far as he could. "You father was one of the few p-people in that class that always stayed focused, keeping his mind on his work and asking questions wh...when needed. Above all else, he wasn't annoying."

"I suppose you look for that quality in people?" I jeered slightly, already knowing he preferred to be around people he could easily relate to.

"I don't ask for much in people, only that you do your j-job and don't bother me." He reasoned, looking down at my recorder. "Your father… heh, he was one of the few people who shared the same interests as me."

"Sounds like you met a good research partner in my father." I smiled, jotting down a few notes in my notepad as I crossed out talking points.

"He and I certainly are a p-power team, that's for sure." He nodded, looking out the dimmed lab windows at the mountains on the outskirts of the city. "He's my b-best friend, the best in the whole galaxy and the best I could have ever asked for. He's gotten me out of several binds over the years… without him, I might be dead."

I looked at him with silent concern for a moment as he continued looking out the window, failing to notice the expression on my face. This had been the first time I ever heard him talk like that, the look in his eyes changed so quickly it gave me pause.

"Um, can you tell me about Aldrin Station? Maybe tell me a little about the original science team?" I asked in a slightly perplexed voice, awkwardly trying to change the tone of the interview.

"Oh yeah, Aldrin." He chimed back in, meeting my eyes once again. "We were con...contracted by Alliance R&D for our joint dissertation, and given a b-brand-spanking new lab to work in. Lab Delta, our old workplace. It was there we created our first working prototype of what w-would be called the Nemo-Michaels Reactor system."

"The NM Reactor revolutionized the starship industry, creating possibilities in power generation that never existed practically until that point." I followed up, crossing another point off my list before focusing on him again. "When did the Gravity Drive come into play?"

"The Gravity Drive was actually an older invention of our old friend Jack Windham." He replied with a warm smile on his face. "He had dev...developed it early in humanity's expansion, but at the time there was no e-energy source powerful enough to f-fully drive it. It was shelved until your father and I unveiled the NM Reactor."

"And now it powers everything from small cargo ships to the Caprica-class battlestars." I shook my head, smiling at how far it had all come.

"Funny thing about those Battlestars, they're a-actually based on an old sci-fi show your father and I wa...watched when we were kids." He pointed out, his face suddenly bursting with energy. "It was a g-good show, though the physics between our world and t-the one depicted obviously led to some interesting… design problems."

"Such as?" I allowed him to go on, interested in what he had to say about the largest starships fielded by the Confederation.

"W-well, the ships are obviously very, very big, nearly as big as a Sovereign-class R-Reaper." He continued, gesturing with his hands as he spoke as quickly as he could. "It's incredibly hard to move, let alone po...power something that big without m-massive amounts of refined Element Zero at its core. If w-we hadn't enlisted the help of the Raloi, we wouldn't have gotten t-the Caprica out of drydock, let a...alone operational in time to fight the Reapers."

"Though there is still some controversy surrounding the Capricas and their legality, is there not?" I remarked as I leaned forward with my elbow against the table, getting a grimaced expression from him in response.

"Those Council crybabies can b-bitch and moan all they want about our ships, doesn't ch...change the facts." He dismissed as he leaned back in his chair. "We aren't subject to the T-treaty of Farixen, and they aren't Dreadnoughts. The Capricas aren't even eq-quipped with capital-grade mass accelerators."

"But they are equipped with nuclear weapons." I pointed out, getting a displeased look from him. "Aren't nuclear weapons heavily frowned upon by most in the galactic community?"

"Well, that's a little tricky to be honest." He admitted, nodding his head slightly. "Like I said b-before, we aren't subject to the vas..vast majority of these treaties, but there will always be an… unknown element to the universe, if you catch my meaning."

"Please elaborate." I insisted as he leaned his head back and sighed deeply.

"Basically Elle, your mother, f-father and I are all a little paranoid." He answered in a much slower and softer tone, keeping his hands still as he spoke. "We want our p-people to be prepared, keep them safe from all threats. If that means b-breaking a few rules, we consider it an acceptable move."

I turned off the recorder, staring into space for a few moments in thought before looking back up at him.

"Is there something you're expecting to find out there in the galaxy?" I asked off-the-record, getting an uncertain look from him. "Something the rest of us don't know about?"

"In my experience, it's alw...always best to assume the worst. Then, if it happens, you w-won't be surprised." He explained, staring at the laser assembly at the other end of the lab. "After everything the R-Reapers did, all the dead and missing... horrid creatures of meat and metal, and hard decisions we made, we decided we w-wouldn't allow our descendants to feel the same w-weakness we did. All of you deserve safe, happy lives."

I nodded, accepting his words as I thought back to everything I had been taught about the Reaper War. I was far too young to remember any of it, though I did remember some of the faces of friends and family that watched me. My parents, Dan, all of them… they had worked themselves to the brink of collapse at many points, trying to innovate and come up with solutions to the Reaper threat. My Uncle was clearly remembering… unpleasant things as he rubbed his left leg out of sheer nerves.

"Would you like to stop the interview for now?" I asked with humility, getting him to turn back to me. "I can always come back another time."

"Y-yeah, that might be best." He nodded, cracking a smile as I packed my recorder and notes back up. "Thanks for the in...input on my project."

"You're welcome, Uncle." I replied with a grin, pulling him in for a quick hug. "I'll see you later."

"I'd hope so, you're certainly more entertaining t-than Gary." He joked, waving at me as I left the lab, closing the door behind me.

I'd never understand the full scope of what they went through during the War. All these interviews had made it very clear it had affected their lives profoundly, forcing them to hide their pain behind smiles and an endless stream of inventions.

Maybe I'd finally get a different perspective with my next interviewee.

…

Onboard the military shuttle Cherno 1-3, I stared out the window at the vast spacedocks surrounding Reach, filled with innumerable ships at all times. Our destination was the easiest to pick out of the crowd, the UCV Galactica, one of seventeen Caprica-class battlestars in existence, with three more commissioned. It was currently moored near the oldest SMAC in orbit, ODP Cairo, undergoing upgrades to its engine and reactor systems in preparation for its next deployment. It was a striking sight, seeing both as we flew in closer. Despite the ODP being more powerful in terms of direct, unbridled firepower, the Galactica was a massive amalgamation of guns, armor, and sheer attitude that dwarfed the ODP in size.

The funniest thing is that an ODP was probably one of the few things capable of destroying a Caprica-class battlestar. No one knew, considering no Caprica-class had ever been destroyed or lost in the years since the original vessel was first built. The Caprica itself was now the flagship of the Orbital Defense Flotilla, having been retired from frontline service just last year.

Rear Admiral Lenlo'Firma vas Reach commanded the Galactica, which was actually one of the newer Caprica-class battlestars at only two years old. He was awarded its command and his promotion to Rear Admiral after the Battle of Arnhem two years ago, where he held back a sizable pirate fleet above the agricultural planet for two hours until reinforcements from UCNF HIGHCOM arrived, allowing them to hunt down and destroy the remaining invasion force. He and his crew held them off with only a single Dradis-class heavy cruiser, his old ship the UCV Agathon. Several military strategists had deemed his work above the colony to be one of the greatest examples of naval strategy against numerically superior forces since the Reaper War, giving him an almost mythical status in military circles.

It was the opening volley in the two month anti-piracy campaign known as the Pegasus Offensive, ending in an overwhelming Confederation victory and large territorial gains in the Terminus. The Rear Admiral became a bit of a celebrity afterwards, though he remained quite humble throughout it all, pinning the success on the members of his crew and not himself. I didn't learn about his connections with my father's original team until he became big news, my mother and father only mentioning him a few times when talking about their early days with the Migrant Fleet. The Rear Admiral happily agreed to meet with me for an interview after I told him who I was.

"Galactica, this is Cherno 1-3 requesting permission to dock, over." My pilot spoke, breaking my attention away from the sights as we were caught in the ship's shadow. "Transmitting access codes… now."

"Cherno 1-3, access codes accepted. Please proceed to cradle 6 in the starboard flight pod, you are cleared on approach, over." The air traffic controller confirmed as my pilot brought us into the interior of the Galactica's massive starboard flight pod, slowly bringing the shuttle up to the cradle with a massive number 6 painted right next to it.

"Right, we're here." My pilot announced as a loud clunk sounded, the cradle sealing against the side of the shuttle. "How long you gonna be here again?"

"It could be a while, so get comfy." I shot back, opening the hatch to reveal a quarian Lieutenant in full uniform, who held his hands behind his back. His nametag said "Nastan", though I'd allow him to tell me his name before I'd call him that. "So, they sent you here to escort me, I assume?"

"That would be correct, ma'am." He confirmed, bowing his head slightly as he offered a handshake, which I quickly accepted. "Lieutenant Eran'Nastan vas Rannoch. I'm under orders to take you to the Rear Admiral."

"Elle Michaels, UCN. By all means, lead the way." I replied, gesturing with my hand as he turned on his heel and began leading me through the ship.

"There's an elevator that will take us to the body of the ship." He explained, taking me through the hallways that separated the flight deck from the launch tubes below. "We're running with a minimal crew until the upgrades are finished, so there shouldn't be any trouble getting around."

"That's good to hear, considering the size of this place." I nodded, admiring the high ceilings and smooth, seamless bulkheads.

Reaching the large elevator, the doors closed with a loud hiss as the whole thing pressurized.

"In the beginning, the elevator moves vertically, but it then shifts as we move through the pylon, eventually going sideways until we reach the main body." Nastan explained, hitting the button as we began to move. "It's much easier than climbing through, let me tell you."

"I can imagine, that's a lot of stairs and ladders." I acknowledged, feeling my center of gravity shift slightly as the inertial dampeners fought against the elevator's quick movement.

Less than a minute later, the elevator doors opened again, revealing a large, physical map of this deck. The thing was like a labyrinth just glancing at it, and this was only one of the decks. The only thing I could think of that was more complicated than this was one of the older pre-war Quarian liveships.

"The Admiral's quarters are this way." Nastan refocused, drawing my attention back to him.

My thoughts about the place being a labyrinth were only further reinforced as we walked through the ship. There were very few hallways that appeared different from one another, leaving no real "landmarks" to point out where you were. There were signs posted everywhere, sure, but I could only imagine how hard it was to learn your way around this ship.

No wonder the Rear Admiral sent someone to escort me. I'd get lost very quickly here without help.

"Here we are, ma'am. The Rear Admiral is waiting for you." He ushered, opening the heavy door to his quarters with a metallic whine.

Inside, the room was much more dimly lit than the rest of the ship, casting shadows over every surface. It was filled with wood furniture, further adding to the darkness, along with several items around that could be seen decorating the attached rooms. These included a small, well-trimmed tree in a pot, a traditional quarian quilt that completely covered one of the walls, a model of an old Quarian cruiser, and a larger, wood-covered device in the corner of the room. The strangest items had to be what appeared to be a necklace of teeth, sitting inside a glass case with a velvet cushion, and some old Krogan weapon hanging above it on the wall.

"I see you managed to find your way here." I heard a stern voice call out, getting me to turn around to see the Rear Admiral sitting at his desk, papers in hand. "Welcome."

"Uh, thanks for having me." I nodded, taken slightly aback as he put the papers down, standing up and walking over to me.

"So… what do you think of it?" He asked, looking over at the device in the corner I had been unable to identify earlier.

"To be honest, I'm not sure what it is." I said as he walked over and pulled a large black disk out of an old paper sleeve, opening the device up and placing said disk inside. Lowering what appeared to be some kind of needle or aperture down onto the device, it made a few distinct popping noises before it began playing music.

"It's an old human record player, a turntable. I picked one up from an antiques shop on Earth a few months ago." He explained as I finally recognized the music, it was "The Blue Danube" by Johann Strauss II. "It took some digging to find these old vinyl albums, but it was certainly worth it."

"That's interesting… I never thought I'd ever see one of these old things." I nodded, slightly put off by the strange new atmosphere that now hung over the room. "I do admit, I am curious about these two items over here."

He looked back at the necklace and gun for a few moments before turning back to his instrument, shaking his head.

"Those belonged to my wife, Kirva. She gave them to me when we got married eight years ago." He answered, walking over and standing next to the display. "She didn't like the... emotional baggage that they carried, but I didn't have the heart to destroy them. I decided storing them on my ship, away from her, was a better compromise."

"She must have had quite a past to accumulate interesting items like these. What does she do now?" I questioned, wanting to know more.

"She works at the Trevally Naval Academy on Rannoch as a CQC instructor." He nodded, sounding quite distant as he straightened the quilt on the wall. "I usually visit her and my son when I'm not on deployment, but these recent upgrades needed more of my attention than I originally thought."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that." I apologized, not realizing he actually wanted to be somewhere else.

"Hm… this could have been done better. Need to work on my needlework." He grumbled, taking his hands off the quilt and turning fully towards me. "So, you're the Admiral's daughter, huh?"

"Uh, yes." I nodded, remembering my father mentioning his time as an Admiral in the early days of the United Confederation.

"It's funny actually, I haven't seen you since you were a little baby." He mused, turning around on his stool with his hands clasped together. "Not that anything happened between your father and I, we just kind of… drifted apart after the war."

"I suppose it's hard to keep up with one another when you lead such different careers." I surmised, taking out my notebook. "You mind if I set up my recorder?"

"Not at all." He agreed, walking back over to his desk and sitting down.

I placed my recorder on the edge of the desk, sitting across from him on a wooden armchair.

"This is Elle Michaels, recording Rear Admiral Lenlo'Firma vas Reach, Commanding Officer of the UCV Galactica, for the book Scientific Minds: Engineering The Future." I stated as I usually did, the recorder's light blinking red as it recorded everything. "Lenlo… can I call you Lenlo?"

"I don't see any reason why you can't." He shrugged, still holding his hands together as the light from his desk lamp cast dim shadows over his mask. "That's what your father called me for years, I see no reason why I can't extend that to you."

"OK then… let's start with the basics." I nodded, flipping through my notes. "How were things for you, growing up in the old Migrant Fleet? As I understand it, your generation was the last to go on the traditional Pilgrimages your people were so well known for."

"Hm, that's actually not entirely true. The Pilgrimage is no longer a societal requirement like it once was, and even then, it has become much less stringent with its goals." He corrected, tenting his fingers. "Granted, it's still a right-of-passage in some Quarian families, but its not nearly as important as it once was."

"Interesting... what did you do for your Pilgrimage?" I refocused, wanting to get through to the details.

"My parents suggested I travel to Earth for my Pilgrimage, reasoning that there would be plenty of chances to find interesting technology to bring back on the home planet of the Humans." He answered, shaking his head and turning to the side as he closed his eyes behind that mask. "Little did I know at the time, most Humans aren't accustomed to outsiders on their planet, especially those in the big cities. I ended up in this city called Baltimore, on the East Coast of the United North American States. The costs to use the spaceport there were much lower than the larger cities such as Vancouver and Los Angeles."

"I've never been there myself, though I planned on visiting later this year." I nodded, knowing Dad grew up there. "What happened in Baltimore?"

"I spent the first few days homeless, trying to scrounge up enough money just to keep myself fed day-to-day." He shook his head, sighing deeply. "Over a week later, while walking across the city with some scrap I had found, I was dragged into an alley by several Human men who attempted to "mug" me, calling me "suit rat" and trying to steal what little I had at the time."

"And that's when you met Dr. Michaels?" I led on, having heard this story from my father before.

"Yes, your father." He nodded quickly, sounding slightly amused. "Being the crazy man he is, he pulled a gun and forced the men to back off, threatening to "blow their brains out" if they didn't comply... I think I'm remembering that correctly."

"Yep, that sounds exactly like him." I agreed, breaking out a big smile at the thought of my father, at the end of an alley, pointing a gun at some criminals to help someone in need.

"After they had run off, he gave me five-thousand credits, telling me to buy a gun and something to eat." He chuckled, surprisingly amused despite the context of the experience. "It does sound quite silly, doesn't it? The Rear Admiral being a homeless vagrant on an alien planet?"

"Well, I suppose it just goes to show we all come from somewhere." I continued to smile, flipping through my notes. "Shortly after you returned to the Migrant Fleet, you joined Dr. Michaels, now a ship Captain, as a member of his crew. How did all that come to be?"

"Well, I was still a meek, young Quarian trying to prove himself at the time." He joked, leaning back in his chair as he picked up a gold pen and tapped it against his palm. "When I had heard that the same man who saved me back on Earth was now in the Fleet as a Captain, I immediately took the chance to offer my Pilgrimage gift to him. I knew I owed it to him at the very least."

He let out another amused huff, looking up at the ceiling before tossing the pen back onto his desk.

"He didn't even care what I had brought back, he was happy to accept me as a member of his crew regardless. To say I was surprised… would be putting it lightly." He said, likely with a smile, as he leaned back and forth slightly in his chair. "After a while, he began giving me more tasks to do on my own, with growing importance. To some it may have looked like he was off-loading work on me, but at the time the Admirals hounded him relentlessly for more of that R&D junk. He and the rest of the team were always overloaded, and I had no problem helping out my Captain."

"Interesting… so you're saying there was a slow, "passing of the torch" as time went on?" I theorized, propping my elbow against the arm of the chair.

"In a sense… things really only started taking off after the United Confederation was formed." He nodded, putting his hands together again. "The Captain, now an Admiral, took command of the newly-built UCV Saint Luke, one of only two Dradis-class heavy cruisers at the time. He decided it was time I received my own command, and gave me the UCV Discovery, the original Gallion-class corvette, and a promotion to Captain. It was a small ship, sure, but it was tough. I quickly recruited a crew for it, which included three Geth and a Raloi engineer called Reitus who is now my Chief Engineer here aboard the Galactica."

"That must have been interesting, having to work around how different species operated." I wondered out loud, as he quickly shook his head.

"Not as difficult as you'd think it would be." He corrected, quickly tapping the back of his mask. "The Geth, most notably the three I took on, are fantastic crewmates. Their reaction times in the heat of battle outmatch any organic, and their analytic, collective mindsets help them reach optimal decisions in a matter of moments. The Raloi, on the other hand, are fantastic at strategy. Even the ones not trained in military tactics can find holes in enemy formations, spot details otherwise missed, and physically overpower opponents with sheer strength."

"It's been said that the Confederation was vital in holding back the Reapers in the latter months of the war, providing aid, both humanitarian and military, to governments and organizations who previously had no relations with the Quarians, Geth, and Raloi. How did this affect the Confederation's postwar standing with the rest of the galaxy?" I continued, tapping my pen against my chin

"Heh, even those who claim to hate us are still heavily indebted to us years after the war." He nodded, hooking a pack of water to his mask and drinking deeply. "It wasn't intentional, don't get me wrong, but we really ended up holding the ball once the smoke had settled. We've more than doubled our military capacity thanks to the mining colonies we've established, and thanks to our previous isolationism, ended up as the only power still able to effectively provide security and trade around the galaxy."

"It's interesting you mention that, there are some that believe the United Confederation and Citadel Council are now engaged in a "cold war" of sorts, with several skirmishes taking place along the borders of Terminus/Attican space recently." I brought up, seeing him slowly cock his head to the side. "Do you believe these incidents were simple misunderstandings, or a sign of something more?"

"It's hard to say. I've had amicable interactions with many members of the Turian Hierarchy, Salarian Union, and the Asari Republics, coming to know many of them on a personal level, but they have pushed our boundaries a few times in the past year." He recalled, taking a deep breath as he put his hand on the back of his helmet. "While we were on patrol around Igsoon, a Salarian STG team attempted to cross into the planet's atmosphere, unaware that we had tracked them with our terahertz scanners. They were supposedly "investigating" the planet for suspected terrorist activity, but one of our factories on the surface just so happened to be rolling out our new line of particle lasers."

"How'd that end?" I questioned, surprised that I hadn't heard of this until now.

"I radioed their commanding officer, Moarn Eliov, and said that if he dared set foot on Igsoon, I'd saturate their entire landing site with plasma warheads. Heh, he called me crazy, believing that I was bluffing and simply trying to "flex my muscles'' in a sense." He went on, surprising me with his honesty and lax attitude regarding the incident. "He decided to think twice after I armed all the missile pods aboard Galactica, threatening him with instant retaliation once more. He and his ship backed off much to my relief, but it got incredibly tense there for a few moments."

"Hm… would you say they're trying to reassert themselves years after the war?" I surmised, getting a quick chuckle out of him.

"I suppose it's one of the few things they can do, all things considered. Their own constituency barely takes them seriously anymore, let alone most of the Confederation." He remarked, sitting back before his intercom panel let out a dull tone, forcing him to stand up and pick up the wired phone.

"Yes?" He questioned, the inaudible voice on the other end speaking in what sounded like a very dull tone. "Mhm…uh huh... ok, tell them I'll speak with them in a minute."

He hung up the phone, looking back to me and slumping his shoulders.

"I apologize, but it looks like we need to cut this short." He said as he tapped out a new frequency on the panel. "HIGHCOM has some news they want to share with me, and I don't know if it's sensitive or not. Nastan will show you the way back to your shuttle."

"Thanks for taking the time to speak with me anyway, Admiral." I thanked him, shaking his hand as I quickly put all my items back in my bag and left the room, leaving with an odd feeling in my chest.

It was hard to imagine a man like the Rear Admiral running into my father on Earth of all places, only to end up in the same exact spot on the opposite side of the galaxy. Even I found it almost absurd how neatly the pieces fell into place. Still, I couldn't help but shake my head at the irony of it all. I could only hope that he, like my parents, continued to live a long and fruitful life. Military life was not something I could handle, and my father would kill me if I ever tried to put myself out there like that.

…

I breathed into my clasped hands, trying to keep them warm as I walked through the long hallway leading to Test Dome 3. My coat was doing little to ward off the cold, and I was trying desperately to move just enough to make up the difference. The curved glass windows on both sides of the hallway showed a violent, seemingly endless snowstorm so thick it made the day appear as night. Though my father warned me of how cold and depressing this place could be, I clearly underestimated the veracity of his warnings.

I was in the Endar Cluster today, on the planet Śnieg to meet with Dr. Dimitri Vsevolod. This was his "playground", the Century Test Facility, where he built and developed weapons for the Confederation military. Strictly speaking, the facility didn't "actually" exist, but considering its remote location on this ice-covered world, I doubt most people would have noticed it anyways. Well, that and the non-disclosure agreement I signed. Śnieg briefly had a booming eezo mining industry, but most of the deposits were completely stripped in the rush to build the Crucible during the war. Considering the planet held very little value outside of its position in the Terminus, it was the ideal place to establish UCNF HIGHCOM. The entire planet was constantly monitored and protected by the Confederation's 8th Fleet and several ODPs, who essentially turned the unassuming rock into an icy fortress.

While I enjoyed the winter back home on Reach, this was a different kind of cold than I was accustomed to. This was the bone-chilling kind of cold, the kind that sapped the warmth right out of your body.

Walking into Test Dome 3, I was hit with a blast of warm air, immediately taking the chill out of my face but creating a noticeable draft. I quickly stepped inside, closing the door with a sharp hiss. The room was a fairly large workshop, with a full window on the other side showing off the interior space. The test domes were built to simulate certain environments, this one being an urban settlement of some kind. The large-scale weapons tests could be done under nearly any condition without the outside world knowing. While I found it slightly shady, I knew why the need for secrecy was so high.

"Who's there?" I heard a woman's voice call out, as I turned to the left to see Dimitri's wife, Auntie Kira, walk out of a back room with a steaming cup of coffee. She smiled the moment her eyes met mine, her silver hair shining in the orange glow of a nearby console.

"Auntie!" I greeted with as much enthusiasm as possible, walking over and hugging her. "It's so good to see you! I had no idea you'd be here!"

"I had nothing better to do this week, and with the kids in private school I decided to spend some nice quality time with my husband." She joked, putting her free hand on my shoulder only to pull it back in surprise. "Wow, you're quite cold! You need something better than that tiny winter jacket for this planet, dear."

"Oh no, that's quite fin-" I began as she whipped around, opening one of the lockers and pulling out a thicker coat.

"Here, it's thermally insulated and built with a rechargeable heating element." She urged, calmly taking a sip from her coffee cup as she held the coat in her free hand. I accepted the coat without further protest, slipping it on and immediately feeling the difference as it powered on.

"Wow, that is... quite nice." I said with a sigh, feeling the warmth roll over my body. "Were you always this motherly, Auntie?"

"Heh, no. It took six kids, marriage, and retirement to soften my demeanor this much." She answered as she reached forward and zipped up the front of the coat for me. "You can keep it, we have plenty more where that came from."

I smiled as a red light went on, a loud buzzer going off as I nearly jumped out of my boots.

"What's going on?" I asked, worried that something bad might have been happening.

"He's about to begin his latest test, come!" She urged, putting her arm around me and almost pushing me to the window overlooking the test area. She sat down on a long bench, taking another sip of her coffee. Cameras above the window displayed different angles of the environment, and the red dot in the corners meant they were recording.

"Where is he?" I questioned as nearly a minute went by, stepping closer to the window as an explosion went off, filling the area with smoke and dust. The vibrations felt in my feet were all I needed to know that it wasn't just some kind of pyrotechnic charge.

"He should be out there any second now." Kira answered in a very casual tone, completely unfazed by the explosion as she took a larger gulp from her coffee cup.

Sure enough, Dr. Vsevolod charged out through the smoke in a heavy set of power armor, sending up debris with every step he took. Several targets popped out of cover in the mock urban environment as he fired on them with a weapon I had never seen before. It shot what appeared to be a bright blue pulse laser of some kind, slicing through the targets effortlessly. He even managed to set a few on fire. In less than a minute, he cleared the dome of all dummy targets, pulling off his helmet and smiling.

"How did I do this time?" He asked through the intercoms as Kira stood up with her now empty coffee cup.

"You did fine, sweetheart. An eight-point-seven second improvement." She replied in a warm tone, stopping the recorders. "Also, your guest has arrived."

"Oh yes! I shall be up in moment." He reassured, shutting off the intercom as he walked out of sight.

Kira returned to the back room, pouring herself another cup of coffee as I followed her, not exactly sure what to do with myself. As the steam rose into the air, she turned briefly to face me as she poured creamer into the mug.

"Would you like a cup, dear?" She offered, picking up the steaming drink and holding it towards me. "It helps with the chills."

"No thanks, I'm trying to avoid caffeine." I politely declined as she chuckled, pulling her arm back.

"The one commonly accepted drug in the world and you don't take it… maybe you're smarter than I thought you were years ago." She joked, managing to get a laugh out of me.

"I like to think my habits have improved over the years." I nodded as I heard the door on the other side of the workshop open.

The variable mountain of a man known as Uncle Dimi walked through wearing little more than combat boots, military pants, and a grey tank top. The weapon he had been firing hung off his frame from a sling, steaming in the cool air. Even at 64 years of age, the man was still built like a tank. His hair had gracefully transitioned to grey much like my father's. That, and the few wrinkles on his face were the only things that betrayed his true age. A man like Dimitri could easily live to 160 years old, even with all the scars and battle damage he had accumulated over the years.

"Hello little one!" He greeted with a big smile as he walked over, putting his arms around me and hugging me tightly. "It's good to see you!"

"T-Thanks." I squeaked, doing my best to stay calm as he squeezed the air out of my lungs. He quickly leaned over to kiss Kira, getting her to walk off and leave us by ourselves.

"You've come at fantastic time! I have nearly finished work on latest project." He gushed, finally getting me go and allowing air to flow into my lungs again.

"I saw, it's very interesting… whatever it is." I remarked, raising my eyebrows as I glanced at the fires still burning in the dome.

"It is hopefully newest infantry weapon for Confederation." He went on, taking a cartridge of some kind out of the rifle and shouldering it so I could better see it. "It is an improvement of your mother and father's design philosophy. I have reworked original system to compress plasma as it exits barrel, and utilizing new generator I have created rotating magnetic field, increasing range, accuracy and power."

"Wait… you're telling me that you managed to add rifling to my mother and father's plasma gun?" I pieced together, getting an even wider smile out of him.

"Da. It looks like old sci-fi laser gun now." He joked, taking the rifle off and setting it on one of the workbenches. "Does not even require atmosphere with inclusion of oxidizer attachment."

"Honey, that's not why she's here." Kira reminded out loud from one of the back rooms, getting him to huff as he rubbed his nose.

"Yes… very well." He nodded as I smiled, pulling out my recorder as he threw on a coat and sat down on the bench overlooking the test dome.

"This is Elle Michaels, recording Dr. Dimitri Vsevolod, Head of Weapons Research at Mjölnir Titanworks, for the book Scientific Minds: Engineering The Future." I started once more, beginning to get used to my introduction. "So Dimitri, what can you tell me about yourself? What few records there are of you trace your origins to Siberia back on Earth. I'd imagine growing up in such a harsh place wasn't easy."

"You would be correct." He nodded, seemingly impressed with my question. "Russia is not kind place, you must constantly fight to survive the winters. Even so, It taught me skills needed to live in vast reaches of space."

"Is that why you joined the Alliance? You proved yourself earning an education back on Earth, but chose instead to join up." I went on, trying to probe the past he rarely spoke of as he leaned forward, taking a moment to think about it.

"I was eleven during First Contact War. Seeing vids of Marines fighting left impression on me." He smiled, leaning back as he drank his water. "Besides, Siberia was boring! Earth was boring! I wanted to experience space, new frontier, like old wild west films."

I couldn't help but be captivated by his unbridled enthusiasm, struggling to keep my thoughts in order. One particular thought creeped into my mind.

"Your Alliance record shows you fought in the Skyllian Blitz, the last major human conflict to occur before the first Battle of the Citadel." I pointed out, getting him to freeze up for a moment as I spoke. "How much would you say combat has changed in the years since then?"

"It is hard to say… most tactics remain the same, but technology evolves." He went on, putting clear, genuine thought into what he was saying. "Considering we are not bound by Council treaties like we were in Alliance, it has afforded us… flexibility."

"Do you think the lack of accordance to any outside treaties makes the Confederation more of a threat in the eyes of the Council and other galactic powers?" I led on from the last question, trying to link it to the one I asked Uncle Dan a few days ago.

"Of course! We are willing to use nearly any weapon to defend ourselves from outside threat. Only through the possession of such power do outside threats respect us." He immediately defended without a second thought, much in the same way Uncle Dan had back in The Shard. "We have slowly pacified most lawless region of space in Milky Way, made it safe to explore and settle. The ability to protect so many worlds does not come easy, it is something Council fails to understand."

"Calm down, honey. Think about your blood pressure." Auntie Kira said calmly from the other room, getting him to look up in brief surprise, then laugh deeply.

"I do apologize, politics tend to make me very angry man." He pardoned, managing to look surprisingly embarrassed.

"No no, it's fine. It makes for very good writing material." I defended, adjusting my sitting position slightly. "How would you describe your role in the Reaper War? It's been said you were vital in helping create the Mech Corps with the development of the Dragoon-class."

"Ah, that was fun project." He smiled, leaning back with his arms crossed. "The Dragoon-class mech, or "walker" as some refer to it as, turned out to be far more versatile platform than originally thought. It started as fun idea, but it quickly developed into what turned into entire military branch. Your father actually tested original prototype, flipped coin with Dan to decide who would get to be pilot."

"You didn't want to be a pilot?" I asked, noticing the question opportunity.

"не, too big to fit in cockpit." He quickly spoke with a smirk, briefly bugging out my translator. "Perfectly content to watch from distance, all factors considered."

I quickly turned off my recorder, leaning towards him.

"Quick personal question… why do you sometimes bug out my translator when talking quickly or in a lowered voice?" I asked off-the-record, deciding now was the time to find the answer to this old question.

"It is interesting that you ask that. I speak full English, though "not well" according to wife." He began to explain, looking surprisingly serious all of the sudden. "Because of this, I occasionally slip into native Russian. I believe it confuses real-time translators, create "glitch" you speak of. Your father also spoke of this once when we first met."

"Heh, that's a surprisingly mundane explanation." I nodded, feeling somewhat disappointed that I didn't figure that out myself as I switched the recorder back on. "In recent years, you've become a somewhat vocal supporter for further military expansion into the Terminus. Why do you believe it needs to be "pacified" further, considering the massive territorial gains the Confederation has already made in recent years?"

"In no small part due to military intervention in Terminus, we have made galaxy safer place." He went on, putting on quite a fierce face. "It is necessary to control Terminus, it contains vast quantities of raw resource needed to construct ships, weapons, cities… ODPs. Attican Traverse bare in comparison to Terminus."

"Is that why we've mostly left the Traverse untouched, or is there more to it?" I continued, enjoying the energy behind his responses.

"Before war, Traverse was heavily colonized, mostly by humans from Alliance space. In lead-up to war, Collectors had harvested many, leaving colonies open to scavengers from Terminus." He further explained, making me wonder where he was going with this. "There is… old superstition among many colonists regarding the occupation of old, abandoned colonies. Ghosts, bad luck, and other such thoughts limit re-development. During war, many planets became battle grounds in attempt to halt Reaper advances."

"So, in addition to there already being this stigma against abandoned colonies, they were often destroyed regardless during the Reaper War?" I asked, knowing I'd need some clarification.

"Yes." He nodded, leaning back in his seat again. "It is... easier to develop new regions than to clean up, rebuild old ones. Colony on Feros good example. Very difficult."

"Right then… I think that's about all the questions I had on that front." I remarked, putting my paper back in my bag. "What are your plans for the future?"

"Right now? I'll shall keep working on weapons technology, same as always." He smirked as Auntie Kira walked back into the room, handing him a mug of hot coffee as I switched off the recorder again. "It is always good to see you, young one."

"The feeling's mutual, Uncle Dimi." I smiled, popping the recorder back into my bag as I stood up. "Oh, one last thing. I contacted Richard and Sira for interviews, but they both turned me down. Instead, I've been checking around trying to contact Captain Dixon Clarke, but I haven't been able to find his information. Do you know where I might be able to contact him to ask about an interview?"

"Dixon "Hunter" Clarke, hmm… he retired from Confederation military year and a half ago. He now lives privately with wife on Arnhem. They live on long piece of tropical shoreline privately purchased years ago." He explained, managing to genuinely surprise me with how forthcoming he was with the information. "It is called Tarina Beach, though not openly listed outside planet itself. You must search Aerilon Public Database to find it."

"Thanks, I appreciate the information." I said, offering a handshake which he quickly accepted. "Good luck with the rest of your tests, Uncle."

"благодарность." He spoke in a low tone, once again bugging out my translator as he took a sip of his coffee, Auntie Kira taking a seat next to him as they locked eyes.

I decided now was the best time to leave, walking back out into the long hallway that connected to the shuttleport. Uncle Dimi and Auntie Kira had given me a lot to think about, and as the cold hit me once more, I was thankful that Auntie Kira had taken kind mercy on me with the thermal coat.

My next destination would be far warmer, with better weather and a friendly population of farmers.

…

Present Day

…

Flying along the shorelines of Arhnem's equatorial zone, I couldn't help but admire the tropical waters and the white sands, perfectly suited for a good vacation or a long retirement. Either way, it was a good spot far away from people, likely what Captain Clarke wanted if he went through the trouble of hiding himself like this.

Spotting a modestly-sized house along the tip of the shore, I parked my rented skycar on a flat piece of land near it. The moment I opened the door, the inside of the skycar flooded with warm, moist air from the ocean, cooled by an ever-present breeze that blew across the water. It was fantastic. Locking the car, I cautiously walked towards the house, admiring the flower gardens that were planted all over the place.

"Halt! Identify yourself!" I heard a voice shout, as a man armed with an old pulse rifle walked out of the house. He had dark skin, and wore little other than a worn pair of crew pants and a tank top.

"Woah woah, no need for that!" I immediately replied, holding up my hands. "I'm Elle Michaels, I'm just a reporter for the UCN!"

"Elle Michaels? The Admiral's girl?" He questioned, lowering his rifle as I nodded, hands still held up high. "Wow… I didn't even recognize you. It's been, what, two decades?"

"Uh, yeah." I continued to nod as he smiled, shaking his head.

"Alright, alright, put your arms down. You can come inside." He urged, my heart still beating hard against my ribcage as I walked up to his house, finally getting a close look at it. It wasn't a prefab like my childhood home back in Serenity Valley, it was completely hand-built from the ground up with separate materials all around.

Inside, the ocean breeze continued to blow in through the open windows, as footsteps could be heard further upstairs.

"Morgan, kids, we have a guest!" He yelled up the stairs, as three kids of various ages walked over and stood at the top. I waved and smiled, as the younger two returned the gesture. "Come in, I'll get you something to drink."

"That would be very nice. Thank you." I agreed, walking into the well-furnished kitchen. There was a sliding glass door that was wide open, with a full view of the ocean outside. It was a majestic sight.

"Any preferences? I have milk, iced tea, green tea, soft drinks, even some freshly-filtered water." He offered as he put the rifle down on the table, redirecting his attention to the fridge. "No coffee, unfortunately, our machine broke yesterday."

"Uh, green tea would be fine." I nodded, clutching my bag just a bit harder as a woman walked down the stairs, looking quite tired.

"Oh, she's pretty. Who's our guest, Dixon?" She observed before turning back to the Captain, pulling out the drinks.

"She's the Admiral's daughter, Elle." He smirked, handing me the green tea in an old-fashioned glass.

"My, we haven't seen Sean in years." She pointed out, giving me another look. "What brings you here, Elle? Catching up with your father's old friends, or is there something else on your mind?"

"I actually wanted to interview the Captain, ask him about his experiences during the Reaper War." I answered as there was a pause in the kitchen. Everything slowed down just enough for it to be noticeable. "It's all for a book I'm writing about the conflict, and my family's involvement with it."

"Hm… you want some war stories, huh?" He nodded, a doubtful look crossing onto his face. "I suppose I can spare a few, as long as we do it away from the kids."

"That's fine. Do you have a place where we can do that?" I asked as he nodded towards the door, getting me to follow him back outside.

"We have a gazebo on the edge of the shoreline. It's a nice place to relax." He explained as we walked along a curved gravel path toward said structure. "So, how is your father after all this time? There's only so much you can say with a yearly Christmas card."

"Oh, he's fine. He's got more time than he knows what to do with these days. The company basically runs itself, so he spends his off hours constructing whatever he feels like." I answered, remembering his latest project.

"Sounds familiar." He nodded, unable to keep himself from smiling as he smoothed out the edges of his moustache. "I don't know if you know this or not, but I owe my life to him. Me, Morgan, and my best friend Tony are lucky to have met him all those years ago."

"If the stories I've heard are true, you guys used to be part of Cerberus." I pointed out, getting him to stop in his tracks and sigh deeply.

"That's a time in our lives we all wish to forget, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mention that." He remarked in a stern, but tired voice.

"Very well. I apologize." I agreed, getting an understanding nod from him as we continued walking.

"It's not your fault. It's been many years, and you had no way of knowing it was an… uncomfortable subject." He reasoned as he stared out at the gentle waves. "Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't asked about my nickname yet."

"Hunter?" I questioned, getting him to smirk. "I assumed it had to do with all those pirate raids you were involved with during the Pegasus Offensive."

"Long before that, actually. They called me "Hunter" because your father's intuition rubbed off on me during the war. Turns out I was exceptionally good at hunting down those pirates and eliminating them." He nodded, taking a deep sip of water from his own glass.

"If you were so good at it, then why did you retire? Your career could have easily gone as far as Rear Admiral Firma's if you wanted it to." I pointed out, getting him to narrow his eyes and squint.

"Actually, I retired specifically because they wanted to promote me." He corrected, pointing his index finger at me. "I didn't want to get involved with the politics of Admiralty, so I instead retired so I could spend my time properly raising my family."

"Oh, I had no idea. I didn't even know you were retired until I spoke to Uncle Dimi." I remarked, getting him to chuckle.

"And that's the way I want to keep it. I don't live all the way out here just for the view, you know." He smirked, getting me to nod and acknowledge the fact that I was likely the first reporter to track him down.

We reached the gazebo, walking underneath the wood structure and out of the sun. We both sat down across from each other, as we put our drinks down on the table in the center.

"So… I'm not much of an interview person. How's this gonna work?" He asked, leaning forward with his hands clasped together.

"Oh, it's quite simple. I'm going to ask a series of questions, and you're free to answer, or not answer them with as much detail as you wish." I explained, taking the recorder out of my bag and pressing the button on the side. "This is Elle Michaels, recording Captain Dixon "Hunter" Clarke of the United Confederation Naval Fleet, for the book Scientific Minds: Engineering The Future. Captain, can I call you Captain?"

"Dixon is fine." He nodded, getting me to open my notepad.

"OK Dixon, what can you tell me about your time in the UCNF? It's said you originally joined up as the executive officer of the UCV Saint Luke, under Admiral Michaels." I asked, aware I was technically asking two questions.

"My time in the fleet was one of the best times of my life. Granted, there were things shooting at us a lot of the time, but it was still an incredible and fulfilling experience." He answered, quickly taking another sip of his water. "Admiral Michaels was a reluctant leader, which is what made him so good at his job. If he hadn't been in charge of the Saint Luke during those pivotal hours of November 20th, we might have lost the war."

"Yes, it's also said that his involvement was crucial in helping repel the attempted invasion of Reach in 2186." I nodded, looking for my next line of questions. "Why were you chosen to be the executive officer? Some might say, given your relative lack of history, you were more of a risk than other possible options."

"It all came down to the Admiral's intuition. He thought I was capable of doing the job, so he gave it to me." He answered plainly, leaning back with his arms crossed. "Besides, me and my friends still owed him our lives. There was no way I was going to say no."

I nodded, looking through my notes as I remembered something I had briefly forgotten.

"The Saint Luke was present for the second battle of the Citadel on November 20th, 2186. Not much is known about what exactly happened on the Citadel that day, but it's said you were in charge of the ship for the duration of the battle." I led on, getting him to silently nod as I took a moment to breathe. "What can you tell me about the battle?"

"Well, it all kicked off after the Admiral had learned Cerberus was planning an attack on the Widow Nebula. We had just made contact with the Rachni, and knew we didn't have much time to act on the information due to its age." He began, breathing deeply as he stared off at the beach. "We attempted to contact the Citadel Council and warn them, but by that point we were too late. We knew all we had left was direct intervention. As soon as the Admiral took his men aboard the station through a hole the Rachni had made, it started moving. It's one thing to describe it, but to see it… I've never seen such a large object move so fast before."

He leaned forward, drinking the last of his water as he put both hands on his knees.

"We had suspected Cerberus' plan was to isolate themselves in the Galactic Core once the Citadel had gone through the Omega 4 Relay, effectively cutting them off from the entire galaxy. The Admiral had sent the Discovery and Borealis ahead of the main force to stop whatever Cerberus was planning. Those two ships pulled off a miracle that day, and kept Cerberus from stopping the battle before it had even begun." He continued, holding his hands together tightly. "However, by this point the Reapers had learned of what Cerberus were doing, and had sent their own nearby forces to the Core to intercept them. By the time Cerberus learned their plan had failed, over 90% of their ships had been turned to dust, leaving just those left on the Citadel to fend them off and keep them from getting full control of the station."

"I remember hearing those stories, about my father and his ORIONs fighting along Commander Shepard in the Council Chambers themselves. They say they did the impossible that day." I commented, getting him to smile.

"It was no cakewalk in space either." He said with a single narrowed eye, his brow cocked at an odd angle.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply-" I began to apologize as he let out a hefty laugh.

"I'm just joking. Don't worry." He cut off, making me feel surprisingly embarrassed as I recomposed myself. "Our Fleet and the remains of the Citadel Defense Fleet surged into the Omega Nebula, with Reapers as far as the eye could see. With few options left, we used the asteroid fields around Omega to keep them busy, drawing enough of them away from the relay to keep them from completely overrunning the Core."

He then stared off at the beach again, smiling as he closed his eyes.

"Then, the rest of the Fleets arrived with the Crucible. Now that was a sight." He nodded, looking quite nostalgic. "We drove a wedge through the Reaper forces and got our ships into the core, connecting the Crucible to the Citadel before they had a chance to destroy it. That was the largest engagement of the war, and probably the last of its kind we'll ever see."

"The casualties suffered by coalition forces in that battle numbered in the hundreds of thousands, not even mentioning civilian losses suffered on the Citadel itself." I pointed out, getting him to focus harder on me. "If you could go back and do it any differently, would you?"

"Unfortunately, I don't believe there's much else we could have done regardless of hindsight. The younger folks today have trouble grasping the true scale of the Reaper War, a war of extermination being waged on all sentient life itself. If we were going to beat them, we needed to do it then and now before we lost our one chance to end the war."

He was quite right, and I knew it. Our generation never had to suffer the horrors of the war, from the genetic harvesting of entire planets to the indoctrination. It was sobering, knowing the experiences they all had to live with. In many ways it was a blessing to us, but to others they'd suffer with the mental and physical scars for the rest of their lives.

"I think that's good." I nodded, turning off the recorder and finishing my glass of green tea as I stood up. "I want to sincerely thank you for giving me your time, Captain."

"Anytime, Ms. Michaels." He grinned, standing up and shaking my hand. "If you could, please tell the Admiral I'd be happy to sit down and have that drink with him soon."

"I'll pass it along." I agreed, walking out from under the pergola as multiple thoughts occupied my mind.

If these interviews had taught me anything, it was that I felt very much out of my league. Here I was, this young reporter, surrounded by all these living legends. It made me feel very small, even with the ones closest to me. Years removed from the war, they all lived with those scars, those memories, the experiences. Like every war in human history, getting bigger and bigger, the following generations never understood what they went through until the next big conflict arose, triggering those primal instincts we all fought so hard to keep locked away.

I wondered if the Reaper War could be the last "great" war, the final nail in the coffin to the cycles of war all civilizations seemed to eventually go through.

I knew one thing, though. I never wanted to see any war bigger than the Reaper War. I hoped for the dream of true peace in our time, knowing the consequences of failing to learn from the past. In the end, the future was the one thing that mattered, and what we needed to focus on. It was up to us to shape it into what we wanted it to be, for better or worse.

…

I'd like to thank all of you for reading Mass Effect: Murphy's Law, especially all of you that have stuck around all these years since the beginning. You have no idea how much it means to me, being able to finally finish this story after six years. It's been a long time in the making, but I'm proud of what I've accomplished, even with all the small problems and faults it's occasionally suffered.

As for plans for the future, I have no idea, but I'll be taking a long break from writing for a while to focus on my personal life, and improve myself for the better. I can only hope this has been satisfying, fun, or interesting to read for all of you, and thanks for reading this overblown thing written by a lazy moron. I really do appreciate it.

TacoWrath, signing out.

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