Chapter 25: Around the Galaxy


January 20th, 2490, 15:07, Medical Station Sistash

Beepbeepbeep! Beepbeepbeep!

"He's gone critical." A nurse shouted.

"We need to stabilize him now!" Doctor Wright said, running his medical scanner over his patient. A turian soldier. "10ccs of Dexomorphine."

"10ccs! Got it." The nurse said. A blueish liquid ran through the small clear tubes that went into the man's neck. "His condition is unchanged."

Beepbeepbeep! Beepbeepbeep!

The turian soldier began to shack in his bed, his arms pulling at the restraints. "Someone hold him still!" Wright shouted. Two men, one turian and the other a salarain ran by and held the convulsing Turian down. "Administer 15ccs."

"15ccs got it." The nurse said. The patient's convulsing began to lessen but was still present. "His condition is stabilizing."

Dr. Wright nodded. "Good, increase to 20ccs. That should be enough." The nurse did as he said, and the turian's convulsing stopped altogether. He was breathing evenly. The two men stopped holding the soldier down after another minute. "Alright," Wright said calmy. "Let's continue on with the operation. See if we can't avoid any more episodes." It would be a long operation.

8 hours later

In the end, the turian soldier did survive after over three hours of being operated on. But not before he suffered two more convulsion attacks, and his heart almost stopped at one point. Wright's uniform had been stained with a lot of blue by the end of it. He would add it to the growing pile of different pigments. The middle-aged doctor was certain he would never be able to look at any color without seeing something else.

Still, the man did survive even though he may never serve again. It was a happier case than some of the ones Wright had seen. Last week he had operated on another soldier, a Terran. Over four hours, they operated on, with them having to restart his heart three times. Pour kid fought for every breath he could, but his body couldn't take the stress anymore. Four hours and thirty-seven minutes after that soldier came, he was pronounced dead on the operation table.

The Terran doctor sighed. He eyed his drink, wondering if he should take some stimulants to avoid sleeping tonight. "How did I get stuck here? Seeing so much? Oh right, Shanxi."

"You look the worse for tear." A voice said. Wright looked up to see a Turian doctor sitting down in front of him.

"Doctor Ramdos, how have you been?" Wright greeted his college. "And it's worse for wear."

The turian's mandibles twitched in amusement. "Probably a little better than you." Ramdos said, taking a bit from some vegetable. "Tough day?"

Wright snorted since when he had a day that couldn't be described as tough? Not for four years. "You could say that. A turian soldier was brought into my operation room. He had a couple Rc shards inside of him that the front-line medics couldn't get out. He was put into a stasis chamber and brought here. He operated on the guy for over three hours and almost lost him a few times."

The turian doctor had taken a sip from his mug. "From the sounds of it, you managed to get the soldier out of your room alive."

Wright nodded. "I did, but he'll never be able to serve again." Even with all the advances in the medical field, there was still only so much a doctor could do.

"Better that than dead." The turian said. Not out of callousness, it was just a statement of fact. "Besides, there are other ways to serve the Hierarchy than just holding a gun. You've gotten good at working my people."

"I had too," Wright responded. "If I was to save lives, I needed to learn quickly." More than four years ago, the only he had to worry about was operating on was a human or ghoul body. He never imagined he would be operating on bodies from a dozen different races.

He had been a simple doctor on Shanxi, working in the field of surgery. Granted, he knew the field wasn't for the faint of heart. He had seen things that would make most others sick to their stomach and give them nightmares. But he had been able to handle them. Certainly, he had restless nights because of nightmares.

But nothing that warm cup of milk and a good book couldn't solve. Then Shanxi happened. When word got that the Dragon Orphans had returned and were about to attack Shanxi, he had volunteered to stay behind and help with the wounded.

He had been assigned to one of the countless field hospitals that would treat the wounded as they came in. At first, it seemed a little different from a normal hospital. Just a lack of proper equipment, they needed to be mobile at a moment's notice, and a lot of standing around waiting for the wound to come in.

They did come in. At first, in a small trickle, with simple injuries, a flesh wound here, a sprang ankle there. Little things that had them patched up in a minute or two and back out in the fighting. Then it quickly evolved into large floods of soldiers coming in, becoming a nightmare. The wounded got worse, an Rc shard in the shoulder, a bit wound in the leg. Then the bad ones got mixed in; missing or mauled limps, open chest wounds, once beautiful looking faces reduced to nightmarish parodies, whimpering in agony.

And the death, there was so much death that day. He remembered a young man who looked just barely out of his teenage years. Probably signed up right after the announcement of the coming attack. He had a pretty face, something that any girl or guy might have fallen for. Or at least it should have been. It wasn't so attractive stained red with his own blood. His stomach was torn open. Wright didn't know how the young man's squad managed to get to the field hospital without him dying. He died whimpering for his mother.

As a doctor, Wright knew that he could not save everyone. It was something they hammered into your head when you were in med-school. Despite your best efforts, eventually, someone was going to die on your operating table.

Wright had lost a few patents before, he had grieved for them, and their faces occasional haunted his dreams. But working in that field hospital had been different. Never had he felt so powerless to save anyone.

He still didn't know why he stayed on after that. He could have continued his work as a civilian doctor or quit the profession altogether. But he chose to continue his service as a surgeon in the military. Getting his office licensing about a month before the Federation entered the war. Maybe he felt like he owed the ones he lost to save as many lives as he could in the coming war.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Ramdos's voice. "A many Turians owe you, their lives. Along with some other races." He said.

"Well, I did have a good teacher," Wright said.

"Yea stopped you from killing half your Turian patients." The Turian doctor shot, getting a chuckle from the terran.

Wright had met Ramdos when the Terran Federation entered the war. Wright had been a part of the first wave of reinforcements for the besieged Citadel forces. He didn't quite remember the name of the first planet he set foot on. It was some minor Turian that the Hierarchy had given up on days before. The marines had established a beachhead for the main army. Wright and hundreds of other doctors joined them, setting up field hospitals for the Terran forces and, if necessary, Turian.

Of course, none of them were expected to perform major surgery on the avian species or another species. They had gained extensive knowledge of the different species' physiology, from when the Federation breached into the citadel's data works, or the extranet as they called it. Wright and the other doctors sent out into citadel space had to read up the data acquired. This way, they could treat any alien patient that might come their way.

However, they were only expected to treat minor injuries and leave the major stuff the doctors of the citadel races. In theory, they did have enough information for their doctors to do more complex operations. But the higher-ups felt that they would be taking an unnecessary risk. None of their doctors had the experience to effectively use the knowledge. So, it was decided until their people were taught by the medical experts, terran doctors were expected to refrain from performing major operations and only treat minor injuries.

That expectation went out the proverbial window within the first few days of the war.

"You look like you got something on your mind." Ramdos said.

Wright shook his head. "Nothing too much. Just remember the first day I meet you."

"Ah, that." Ramdos responded. "I don't remember all of the details of that day. I just remember you being an idiot."

"Well, I do." Not entirely true most of that day was a blur to him.

"With wary joy: Salutations." A deep voice interrupted. Both doctors turned their heads to see an elcor walking up to them. He stopped beside Wright, dropping a large tray of food onto the table.

"Doctor Mitriz." Wright greeted. "You look well."

"With tired frustration: I could be better." The Elcor doctor droned.

"I'm guessing your day hasn't gone as smoothly as ours." Ramdos said.

"With grief: I lost two patients today. One Asari, and one Turian." Dr. Mitriz explained.

Wright nodded, understanding what the Elcor doctor was feeling. "Try not to hold it against yourself. We all wish we could save every life that comes onto our tables." If he had been alone, Wright might have laughed. Giving advice when he struggled to follow it that sounded a bit like hypocrisy.

"But the reality is," Ramdos picked up for Wright. "We can't do that. We can only save the ones that we can." Wright wondered how often most doctors told themselves that.

The Elcor gave a slight incline of his head. "With genuine curiosity: What were you discussing before I arrived."

"Just the first time I met Doctor Ramdos, and how he dragged me into helping him operating on his patients." Then Wright cracked a smile. "Or should I say victims, with your bedside manners?"

The turian doctor snorted. "I don't care about being nice to my patients. I just want to get them out of my room as quickly as possible and move on to the next." He said. "Besides, you remember how hectic that day was. With everyone running around like headless foul, it was almost impossible to get any help."

That was true. He remembered going from one patient to another, having little to no help. Then after treating a terran soldier, he was grabbed by this crazy-looking Turian. He was then forced to help the man operate on his patients. Mostly just giving him the tools, he needed or holding down a violent patient. That was how he met Doctor Ramdos.

"With veiled amusement: That must have been an interesting interaction." The Elcor said.

Wright nodded. "It was. Though admittedly, we didn't get much of a chance to talk in the first couple of days. It wasn't until after most of the city was secured did, I learn about the lunatic I got stuck with."

Ramdos's mandibles flared, showing his annoyance. "Remember, this lunatic has taught you everything he knows. I kept you from getting most of your non-terran patients killed."

"And I did the same for you." Wright said. "We learned a lot from each other about how to work on our respective species."

It was quite the experience learning about the bodies of the different species of the galaxy. It amazed him how different they were from terran biology, yet how similar they were as well. He still had to be careful with what solutions and chemicals he could use when treating a Turian or Asari. But he found that many of the same techniques such as CPR, mending broken bones, wrapping a tranquil, and others work just as well as they would on humans if only needing slight adaptions.

He saw the Turian doctor nod. "Granted, we didn't learn under the most ideal circumstances. I would have preferred to teach you how to operate on a Turian in a classroom setting. Not under fire from the enemy, in the middle of a warzone."

"True," Wright admitted. "And I would have preferred to have done the same for you. War though is rarely convenient. But we what must to save lives."

"Doctor Wright to the ICU." A voice came over the station's comm. "Doctor Wright to the ICU."

"Speaking of." Wright quickly finished his drink and picked up his foot. He stood up. "I got some more lives to save." He ignored the small cynical voice whispering into his ear.

"I wish you well." Ramdos said. "Try to meet up at our usual time?"

"Same place, same table." Wright responded. Then he disposed of his food and entered out into the busy corridors of the station. Despite his restless nights and recent miss givings, Wright knew he still had a job to do and that when the war ended, he would continue to work as a surgeon. Perhaps not in the military, but he would continue to save lives.


February 19th 16:07, Shanxi, Capital city

It had been almost five years since Shanxi had been attacked by the Dragon Orphans. Five years since first contact was made with the Quarian people, the Terran people became aware of a wider galactic community.

In that time, the Capital city of the colony had been rebuilt. The dead had been buried and mourned. A monument had been constructed in honor of the brave men and women who gave their lives in the colony's defense. It always had a visitor or two wanting to pay their respects.

Much had changed for Shanxi in five years. While it had already been among the fastest-growing worlds in the Federation, its growth had skyrocketed when the Federation came onto the galactic stage. This was due in part to two reasons. First, Shanxi was now in the middle of a new major trade lane. Merchant ships of all sizes came through both ends of the relay carrying their wares, bringing untold wealth to the colony. Tens of thousands of people came flooding into the system wanting to establish or grow their businesses. Others wanted to migrate to the citadel seeking new opportunities, and the people from the citadel wanted to do the same coming into Federation space.

The second reason was because of the refugees flooding in from the war. The Terran Federation's entry into the war on behalf of the Citadel races, they opened several of their worlds to refugees fleeing the Dragon Orphans.

This helped levitate the strain on several Citadel worlds. Namely, Asari, who were known for their compassionate attitudes in crises. This would help relations between the Federation and the Republics, who were put off by the Terran's more militaristic attitudes.

Shanxi grew to have the largest refugee population, with analysts believing that more than three million refugees of all races had made their way to the colony. It was because of this and other reasons that Shanxi was quickly growing to be the crowning Jewel of the Federation's outer colonies.

Of course, this mattered little to a small group of children standing outside a small store.

"Hey, I got it." A ten-year boy said, running outside of the comic bookstore. Blue eyes shone with delight as his blonde hair was swept across his face by the wind. He ran up to his group of friends. To some, it might have seemed like an odd group, mostly having terran children, but included two turians, both boys, and a Asari.

The boy came to a stop bending over to his knees, catching his breath. "Well, did you get it? The newest issue." Faus said. A turian boy around ten years almost eleven, red marks adorned his brown skin, around his mouth, and lined his eyes.

The terran boy, Kevin, look up with a bright smile. "I did. See." He held up a comic book. On its front page was Turian flying up into space, wearing a strange green uniform. His fist was held out. On the middle talon, a green ring glowed with power.

The title read "Caslio the First Turian Green Lantern: Issue # 17 Brightest Day on Palavan."

Faus hummed happily. He had always been a big fan of comics. His father often took him to the stores to get the newest issues of some of their favorite stories. Jiulas the Avenging Knight, Watchmen of the Citadel, Secrets of the Terminus, and many others. They had quite the collection back on their colony world of Hi'lias. His father even joked that might have the largest collection in the Hierarchy. His mother never got their interest in "frivolous stories," as she called. But always had a good-natured smile when she saw them pour over the pages of their shared collection.

Their collection and his mother were gone now. Lost to the swarms of Dragon Orphans that invaded their home. The turian boy repressed the memories of that day, not wanting them to dampen his mood. His eyes focused on the comic book in the other boy's hands.

"Come on, let's find somewhere to read it." Faus said, leading the group down the streets of the city. The streets, at being first being strange and foreign to him, were now a familiar and welcomed sight to the young Turian boy. He and his father had come to this world as refugees two years ago, fleeing the war.

Those first days had been hard for him and his father. Being in such a strange place where the buildings seemed to be alive had been both a terrifying and exhilarating experience for Faus. He had kept close to the refugee center for fear of getting lost or being snatched up by one of those monsters as a mid-day snack.

But within days, his curiosity had won out, and he snuck out of the center to explore the city. The people around him didn't seem to take too much notice of him. Perhaps they had grown used to seeing aliens walking down the streets.

Either way, it had allowed him to wander freely around the city. He still kept a close distance to the center and made a point to avoid anyone with black and red eyes. He didn't know how long he wandered around when he came to a store, very much like the ones he and his father used to visit.

Without a thought, he found himself in the store marveling at the rows of strange and new comic books. Filled with images that he had never seen before. Some were familiar and obvious to him, like those with people dressed in weird clothes, doing things that should be impossible. Superheroes, they had been among his favorites to read.

While mindlessly staring, he had not noticed the boy until he had bumped right into him. That had been how he met his first terran friend, Kevin. He had been the one to show him comic books that his people made. Among his favorites were those made by a group called "DC," he liked the myriad of heroes and villains they created. In particular, he loved the heroes that called themselves green lanterns.

"I still don't get why you insist on getting a physical copy." The Asari girl said, taking Faus out of his thoughts. "Wouldn't getting a copy through the extranet- I mean, the internet be quicker and last longer?"

The group had arrived somewhere in one of the city's parks. Kevin gave the girl a questioning look. "I don't know. There's just something special about holding the actual book in your hands. Feel the pages flipping through your fingers and the scent coming off the book. It all makes the story feel more real, more ahh, tangible." He explained. "Or at least that's what my dad tells me. I just like having the real thing in my hands."

Faus's father had told him much the same thing. "I still don't get it." The Asari girl said but had a smile on her lips.

That seemed to incite an odd reaction out of the boy. His cheeks reddened. "Well, you don't have to." He said shakily. "We can still enjoy the reading story together."

Faus rolled his eyes. His friend had yet to admit his obvious crush on the asari girl. The group of friends found an empty table to sit at. Kevin opened the book and flipped over a few pages coming to the story's beginning.

The page showed a terran green lantern encased in a yellow orb. In front of smiling smugly was a pinkish alien. "The evil Sinestro has caught Hal Jorden." Kevin began to narrate.

Partially paying attention, Faus looked over his friends. They had made adjusting to life here easier. Shanxi had become like a home to him, and it was his home. They weren't living in the refugee center anymore. About a year after they arrived, his father had applied for them to become permanent residents in the Terran Federation. Now they lived in a modest apartment.

Apart of him wanted to return to their home in the Hierarchy. Many of the refugees were returning to Citadel space, now the enemy had been driven out. But Faus knew if they did, they would face problems.

Faus's gaze landed one of his terran friends, a boy around the same age as him. Both of his eyes were pitch black, with red irises. The sight still sent chills down his back, but now he knew they wouldn't do anything to him. It helped him whenever he was around his father.

Kevin's narration of the comic came to an end. "And so, with having rescued Hal Jorden. Caslio flew back to Palavan to thwart Sinestro's most diabolical plan yet." He closed the comic book and laid it on the table. He had a content smile on.

"That was amazing." The Terran boy said. "What did you guys think of it?" He asked the others.

Most of the other kids agreed that the story was great. Each pointing out their favorite part. Then Kevin's eyes landed on Faus. "I thought it was great." He said. He hadn't paid much attention but got the general gist of what happened.

"What was your favorite part?" Kevin asked. "Mine was when Caslio and Hal threw a punch that sent Sinestro flying."

Faus smiled at his friend's eagerness. Both boys had bonded over their love of comic books, and they both enjoyed superhero stories. Though there was one point of contention between the two, Faus liked DC, Kevin liked Marvel. "The part where Caslio broke Hal out of Sinestro's trap after he laid out his plans."

"You know I never got that." The Asari girl said. "Why do villains always explain their plans? Wouldn't it be smarter to just keep quiet and let the hero die?"

"Because it's what villains do." Kevin explained, getting a nod from the other kids. "They always got to explain their plans. I mean, how else are they going to stop the villain's plans if they don't know what they are?"

"But?" The asari began but was then cut off by a voice.

"I wouldn't bother." An asari woman said, walking up to the table. "Boys can be stubborn. Especially about the things they like."

"Mom." Eniratasaid. Getting up, she greets her mother. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just walking around when I saw you with your friends." The mother asari said. "I thought I'd go ahead and pick you up." The Asari women looked up at the children and smiled. "It's nice to meet my little girl's friends. She's told me a lot about you and some of the interest you have." She was eyeing the comic book lying on the table. "I hope you boys have been taking good care of my daughter."

Kevin nodded shyly, his head turning a dark shade of red. "Uhh, Y-yea, we have been. Taking good care of her. Yea, that." He said, oblivious to the fact he was stumbling over his words. The others were nodding too.

The Asari woman smiled at the terran boy. "Well, good." She held her hand to her daughter. "Come Enirata, it's time to go home. Say goodbye to your friends."

"Hey, uhh, Eni." Kevin said suddenly.

"Yes?" Enirata Said, giving the boy a curious look. "What is it, Kevin?

"Well, uuh." He tried to say something. "I just. Well, you see. Ummm? Would you?" Panic seemed to be setting in, and Faus felt like banging his head on one of the nearby trees. "See you tomorrow?" He finished.

The asari looked confused for a moment before nodding. "Yea, sure." She said.

Her mother was smiling down at the two, having a knowing look in her eye. "Come on Enirata, time to go."

As soon as the two asari were gone, Faus lightly smacked his hand upside Kevin's head. The terran boy rubbed the back of his head and glared at the turian. "What was that for?"

The other children laughed but remained silent. "Trying to see if I can slap the stupid out of you." Faus responded, getting more laughs from the others. "Was that really all you can say? See you tomorrow?"

"Hey!" Kevin responded. "These things take time. I'm slowly working my way in."

Faus gave the terran a pointed look. "You've been crushing on her for more than a year now." He said flatly.

"Very slowly." Kevin added. "I'm working very slowly. Besides, she's going to live for like a thousand years. I have all the time in the galaxy to ask her out."

If he had been a terran, Faus would have rolled his eyes. Instead, his mandibles twitched in irritation. "The old asari live for thousands of years card. My dad told me that excuse was old when he was a kid." He said to his friend. "So, you can imagine how much worse it is now."

Kevin held his hands behind his head. "Well, I'll tell her one day." He said dismissively.

"Just be sure to do it before you're an old man." Faus said. He was frustrated that his friend had yet to confess his feelings. He just wanted the boy to get it done. It was a simple choice. Either he confesses and gets accepted by Enirata, or she rejects him. Though the young turian boy suspected that the asari girl would accept Kevin's confession.

A part of Faus, though, was happy that the terran was taking so long. It gave him more time to do the same for him.

"Come on." Faus said after a moment of thought. "It's getting late, and I need to stop by the center to get my dad his food."

"Okay." Kevin said. "Oh, you think I can come over? I want to read some more of the comics your people have. I really like the one you showed me last time. The secrets of the termenatios?"

"Terminus." Faus corrected. "Secrets of the Terminus. And sure, my dad likes having you around."

Life was good on Shanxi.


February 23rd 12:00, The Citadel Presidium Economic District

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Glin said. "If this falls through, I won't even have enough to purchase a ride on a garbage scowl back home."

"Hey, come calm down, buddy." A synthetic voice said. "Besides, there are some very luxurious garbage scowls out there." Glin glared at the holographic figure. Causing him to chuckle nervously. "I assure you this will work. I ran all of the numbers myself."

That still didn't do much to reassure the Volus. Glin had once been a successful businessman. Sure, he couldn't begin to compete with the big leagues, but he did make enough to have a comfortable living. He had set up shop on the borders between the Hegemony and the Hierarchy, a simple little trading company. The batarians may have been the slavers of the galaxy and, in general, viewed as the scum of the galaxy, but they did make for good customers. He just had to ignore the less than tasteful practices their government had.

His business was doing well. Better than most small-time businesses that would either fail within the first five years or be cannibalized by the bigger business. In a few years, maybe a decade, Glin might have had owned his own moon. Then that war happened.

The Hegemony practically disappeared overnight, costing him a large majority of his customer base. Definitely a bad blow to a small business like his, but not necessarily a fatal one. Then those damn Dragon Orphans invaded.

With the last of his customers dead or fleeing as refugees, Glin's business went bankrupt faster than a Krogan going to a good fight. With his business gone, Glin suddenly found himself drowning in debt. He may have escaped with his life when the invasion started but had been days when he wished he hadn't.

For more than two years, the volus businessman had to go from one job to another. Ask for several loans from his fellow volus, just to keep himself from completely going under. Life was miserable for him, and he began to fear he would be destined for a life of distention.

That was when a ray of hope shone itself to the downtrodden Volus. The Terrans had entered the galactic scene. Bringing with them not just their mighty fleets and armies. But with them whole new opportunities. Seeing a chance, Glin was quick to cut out his own slice in the economic boom that occurred shortly after the Federation arrived.

With just a few loans from some old friends, Glin established a new business targeting the new terran demographic. It might have been the best possible decision he could have made. He was now running a successful business with an ever-growing customer base. He still had debts to pay, but now he could just see the surface of the ocean he had been drowning in. Maybe, just maybe, in a decade or two, he'll have that moon.

But now Glin was at what the terrans called a crossroads. If he took this road, he would either find himself on an island of prosperity or be dragged back down into the depths, never to surface again.

"Okay, run this by me one more time." Glin said to the terran Synthetic. He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around it, friendly synthetic life. Not the cold murderous machines that the citadel portraited in all their media just a few short years ago.

They could be wrong. But Glin had been talking to this AI for the better part of a week, and he had yet to wake up suitless on a dissection table. Or with his brain scoped out and replaced with a machine core. Or… Okay, maybe he was being a little paranoid. But that still didn't stop him from keeping an electronic scrambler on hand. Guaranteed to blast any AI into next week or get your money back. It only cost him fifty thousand credits.

"Damn, you organics have short attention spans." The synth mocked.

"I'm well aware." Glin said. "You've made that point clear."

"So, I have. So, I have." The hologram said, rubbing his chin. "Don't take it personally. I have plenty of organic friends." Glin found that statement suspect. He even doubts that this synth had many friends among his kind. "So, here's the short and sweet version of it. The citadel and the Terran Federation are experiencing massive economic booms. That's to be expected both suddenly have new previously untouched populations. Especially the Federation. Whereas about five years ago, there was only had one race for the numerous businesses, companies, and megacorps to cater to. Now they have over a dozen other races to exploit. And I say that in the nicest way possible. Seriously, you can't imagine how many tycoons were salivating at the mouth when the news broke. Thousands of new worlds and trillions of new customers waiting to buy their products. And I can just imagine what some of the businesses men on your side of the relay were thinking."

Glin knew very well what they were thinking. He had thought the same thing. And it all boiled down to one question. How much profit could they make before someone stepped in to restrain them? "Yes, yes. I get that. But haven't gotten to your point yet."

"I was getting to that." The synth said. "Anyways, as I was saying. Longstanding companies on both sides are branching out into the new demographics. Some are even starting to make partnerships. You know the whole wanting to share the profit thing they have going, but really, they're trying to see how much they exploit the other guy. And of course, there's all the other smaller, medium-sized, and ma and pa companies that are migrating over, hoping to find a place where they can grow more freely."

"Again, I can observe that for myself." Glin said, getting a little irritated that this thing had yet to make its point. "What I'm not observing is the point."

"Little dude, you need more patience." The synth said. "Isn't patience an important part of being a successful businessman such as yourself?"

The volus felt his eyes narrow from behind his mask. "Only when there is a point it. So far, you haven't shown such."

The synth's eyes rolled. "Just let me finish my spill here. I'm getting to the part where I make my Segway to the point. So, I ask you for just a little more patience. Now, where was I?"

Glin sighed, which was perfectly timed with the wheezing of his suit. "You just got past the small companies bit."

"Right. Right." The synth said. "Now, lastly, we have the new ones that are cropping up everywhere. With this new economic boom, ambitious and greedy people alike see it as the time to establish their own businesses and make it big. These new companies are breeding crazier than rabbits on Viagra." Glin didn't know what either of those was, but he could the meaning all the same. "So, tell me, how many of them actually know how to do that?"

"Know what?" Glin asked. Finally, this synth was getting to the point of this business meeting.

"How to properly establish a working, profitable, and most importantly long-lasting business." The synth said. "How many of them know what kind of company they want? Know which banks to go to? How to market their products. How to screen out applicants for what job positions? Which companies they should partner with, and which one they should avoid? Really, I can be asking these questions, and we'd be here all day. The point is establishing and running a business takes a lot of steps that most people don't tend to think about. And it is a lot of hard work."

On that, Glin could agree. Though being a Volus, he had been much more aware of difficult it was to establish his own business than others from different races would have. But it still surprised him how difficult it was to manage a business by himself. His previous venture on the borders with the Hegemony was not his first one. He had a few others that had not gone as well but had served to be valuable learning experiences for him. "Not many in my experience." He said.

"Yea, maybe like one percent of people know how to. Now then, how many of them have the skill and ability to do so?" The synth asked.

Glin was failing to see where this was going. But decided to indulge the obviously insane AI. "Mister. Samuels, was it?" He got a nod from the synth. "Can you please get to the point? I have other important matters to attend to. If you continue to waste my time, I will call this meeting to an end."

Samuels let out a frustrated sigh. "So impatient." He muttered. "Fine, here's my point. A lot of these new companies that are popping up will fail. Because the people making and running them don't know how to or lack the skill. I say we help them, for a price.

Okay, now Glin's interest was piqued. "Help them how?" The Volus businessman said.

The synth smiled. It was a good-natured smile that only a well-practiced conman was capable of making. "Simple. For a generous cut of their profits, we offer to help them run their businesses. Teach them how to manage their profits. Connect them with the right banks. Set up meetings with companies that would be willing to partner with them and in a way that both parties profit. Even help them find and hire the right employees."

Glin considers the synth's, Samuels's proposal. It certainly sounded like an interesting idea and could net a nice little profit. But it didn't seem like something that could last. "Are you sure that people will be interested in such a service? What if they decide that they're better off on their own? What then?"

Samuels walked out to a window that offered a beautiful view of the citadel, set to the background of the Widow Nebula. "Of course, there are going to be people that won't take our service. That's true for businesses. But I guarantee that there will be at least a few people who will accept our services. And that is all we need to get our business venture on its feet and running. In a few years, there will be several successful companies operating throughout the galaxy, and once other prospective business owners realize that it was because of you. They'll be beating down your door, begging for your services. Trust me, my friend. In a decade or two, we'll both be filthy stinking rich." Samuels turned around to face Glin. "You may even be able to buy that moon you've been wanting." He held out his hands, and a representation of a moon appeared. "Hell, you can even buy ten moons if wanted to." He said, causing nine more moons to appear in the palm of his hand.

That was a very tempting offer to the Volus businessman. The idea of owning not one but ten or more moons, it sent a shiver down his spine. Imagine how jealous his competitors would be, the women he would attract. He agreed right then and there. But he restrained himself, knowing that this venture could just as easily fail or even be a con on the side of this synth. "Alright, say that I do agree to this. And say this venture does succeed, and we both become rich beyond our imaginations. Why choose me? Surely there must have been better choices out there? Other businessmen Volus or otherwise, that are better suited to this venture than I am."

Samuels hummed. "You're right. I did have other choices, plenty of them. I could have easily chosen an Elcor businessman on Dakura or an Asari on Omega. Hell, I could have gone with the obvious and worked with a Terran somewhere in the Federation. But in the end, I choose you because I genuinely believe that you are the best choice for the job."

"And how exactly am I the best choice?" Glin asked.

"Because you know what it's like." Samuels answered. "You know what it's like to build your business and manage it. What's more, you know what's it like to fail."

It was a good thing that Glin was wearing his environmental suit. Without it, the synth might have seen the look of surprise on his face. "You know of my previous business ventures?"

"Of course, I do." Samuels said. "Like any good businessman, I like to study up on any future partner or rival. After all, knowledge is power, or in our case, it leads to more profit. So yes, I knew about your previous business ventures. The ones that came before your success in on the borders between the Hierarchy and the Hegemony. And I know that they all failed. But you never let that dissuade you. You kept trying, learning from your previous mistakes, until you finally succeeded." The synth walked up to Glin and bent down to look him in the face. "And it was a nice little business. Sure, it wasn't bringing in freighters full of credits, but it was enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

"True, but even that one failed." Glin admitted bitterly.

"But, only because of some very bad luck." Samuels added. "Point is you never gave up, and you did it all under your own power. That makes you a figure that people can relate to. Most of these new and upcoming businessmen are just everyday people wanting to live a better life. They weren't born with silver spoons in their mouths, with mommy and daddy helping them set up their business. Like you, they are just people wanting to sell their ideas and live a comfortable living." Samuels stood up and held out his hand. "So, what do you say? Partners?"

Glin thought about it for a moment. It did sound like an interesting business venture, one that could make all the credits he could ever want. It would take some time and patience, but that was the same for all businesses. At the same time, though, it could lead to failure, and Glin may end up in debt for the rest of his life. It was a gamble. Then again, all ventures into new companies were gambles. Would they succeed? Or would they fail? Do people want the products and services they offer? Or would they be dismissed out of hand?

Glin had taken gambles before. Some had failed. And some had not. But he had learned he would have never gotten anywhere if he was not willing to take a gamble. He reached out his hand and took the synths. "Mind you, I'm fully agreeing to this just yet. But I am willing to hear you out. Perhaps we can set up a meeting for next week, and you can give a more detailed explanation then." Perhaps it was time to take another gamble.

The synth smiled at the Volus businessman. "You, sir, have a deal."


March 3rd 12:37, Citadel Lower wards:

Vollk knew he was in for a bad day when a pair of C-Sec officers rounded the corner. He cursed under his breath, hoping the two Turians would ignore him as he walked by.

"Hold it right there, four-eyes." No such luck.

Vollk stopped in his steps. Taking a deep breath, he prayed to whatever higher power there was that this would end quickly. He slowly turned around, being careful not to come off as threatening. "Yes, officers? How may I be of service." He said with a forced smile.

Life was not good for Vollk on the citadel. Admittedly it was better than the life he had in the Hegemony. There he had been born into the lower casts of society. Not much better than a slave. He was impoverished, always hungry, and barely had anywhere to stay. He was lucky he didn't wake up one day in a slave's pin.

Here at the citadel, life was a little better. Not by much, though. He was still impoverished, but he was less hungry and as sad as it sounds, his new "home" was a step up from where he last stayed. He knew it wasn't much of a step up from the life he had lived under the Hegemony. But to others, it was a massive leap from where they had been.

They had just to ignore the constant persecution from the other races. "What's a four-eyed freak like you doing out here?" One of the officers asked.

Vollk ignored the slur and kept his smile on. "Don't make any aggressive moves, don't say anything offensive. Don't do anything that might prove them further." He reminded himself. "I was just grabbing some supplies." He said, holding up a large bag.

Both turians were looking at him suspiciously. "That's a big bag just for one person." Turian officer #1 said.

"You're trying to feed your slaves or something?" Turian officer #2 remarked.

Vollk held back a grimace with the same practice he would have given to an officer of the Hegemony. He would never be able to escape to reputation his people built up as slavers of the galaxy. Never mind, it was the actions of a repressive and barbaric government. Never mind that less than one percent of the Batarian population owned slaves. And let's also ignore the fact that the majority of the slaves were Batarians. Sometimes it astonished him how ignorant the rest of the galaxy could be.

He wished he could tell these two that, for what good that would do him. They wouldn't believe him, and even if they did most others wouldn't. He would just have to endure whatever they had planned for him. If he tried anything, he would find himself in a holding cell for who knows how long. He couldn't do that, not with others, depending on the supplies in his hands. "I'm looking after several children." He tried to explain.

"Is that so?" #1 said, then scoffed. "A likely story. Come on, get on the wall. Drop your supplies by your side." The tone in his voice left no room for debate.

Vollk carefully eyed the two officers, he noticed the way their talons gripped around their weapons. How their bodies tensed. They were just waiting for him to do something. Well, he wasn't about to give them that satisfaction.

"Yes, officers." He said, keeping his smile. "I don't want any trouble." He moved over to the wall. Dropping his supplies to the side, he placed both hands on the wall and assumed a well-practiced position.

"Command, be advised," One of the officers, he thinks #2, says into his Omni-tool. "We have detained a suspect and are currently searching for contraband."

He felt a pair of hands search up and down his body. He ignores how the officer "accidentally" kick his supplies over. A talon reached into one of his pockets and pulled something out.

"What is this?" Officer #1 said in a low tone.

Vollk looked over to see that the turian held a small cylindrical object in his hand. "That's my ID, chit." He explained. "If you would scan, it would prove I've been telling the truth the whole time."

The turian officer growled at him. "Don't tell me what to do. Batarian." He said. But did pull up his Omni-tool and waved it over the chit. Through a holographic display, Vollk could see his image appear and a profile scroll up next to it. "Says here you're Vollk Bariss, born into the lower castes of the Batarian Hegemony. Came here four years ago. Current status, a refugee escaping the war. It also says you're looking after several children."

Vollk nodded. "Yes, they're all orphans. Their parents were killed." He didn't explain that most of them were former slaves and that they were likely separated from their parents by other means.

Turian officer #2 snorted. "I say we bring him in." He said. "He might have forged that ID chit. "For all we know, these children might be his pirate friends or slaves he smuggled on that station."

Vollk was about to open his mouth to protest. "In which case, you people need to step up your security." A new voice joined in.

Vollk looked over to see that a third C-Sec officer had walked up. A terran C-Sec officer. The Batarian man didn't know how to feel about that. Depending on their species, he had a few different expectations from C-Sec officers. Turians were the most aggressive and the most likely to prosecute him. The Salarians were about the same but were better at hiding. Asari, at least were willing to offer a sympathetic ear. Terrans, though, they were a recent addition, and as far as Vollk could tell, they were a mixed bag to use one of their terms. They could be just as aggressive and judgmental as the turians, understanding like the Asari, or completely indifferent.

Vollk was hoping that this terran would fall into the latter two categories. "If some like him can smuggle slaves onto the Citadel, I shudder to think what real criminals can do." The terran said.

"What are you doing here?" Officer #2 asked.

The terran put a hand on his hip. "Like you, I'm doing my job and patrolling around." He said. "But unlike you, I'm not picking on poor innocent souls."

"He's a Batarian." Officer # 1 said. "They're always up to something."

The terran did that strange gesture where they rolled their eyes. "And that makes it just fine?" He mutters. "Here I thought we were in the twenty-fifth century. Look, guys, how about I take over here while you two go after real criminals? Like I don't know." He said, pointing his hand towards two people, a turian and a salarain. "Like those pick-pockets over there?"

Both turian officers looked closely at the two, and so did Vollk. Sure enough, when the two passed another individual, he saw the ever so slight movement of one of the picket pockets' hands sliding into the victim's pocket and sliding out something out. Both officers looked at each other and nodded.

One looked over at Vollk. "You got lucky four-eyes." #2 said. "But the next time we see you, you won't be." Then ran off with his friend.

The terran watched the two officers chase after the picket pockets, shaking his head. "Racist officers on the citadel." Vollk heard the terran mutter bitterly. "Who would have thought?" he turned around to face Vollk. Vollk ready himself for whatever the Terran had in store for him. He might have helped him, but that could have been because he wanted to torment him alone. "You can get off the wall now. The assholes are gone."

Vollk blinked. He looked at the terran with a questioning look. The terran smiled at him and nodded. Vollk took his hands off the wall and straightened his posture. He faced the man. "Thanks, terran, for your help." He said to the man. He wasn't sure why he did but wasn't about to let it go without showing some gratitude.

The terran smiled. "Thank nothing of it. It was the right thing to do." He said he walked over to Vollk and bent down by the supplies. "Come on, I'll help you with your supplies." Vollk eyed him suspiciously. The terran picked up on that. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to do anything to you. I just want to help."

That didn't quell Vollk's suspicions, but he did push it down. There was nothing he could do if the terran was lying. He bent down and began to get his supplies in order. "Why are you helping me, terran?" Vollk asked.

The terran didn't look up when he responded. "Jason," He said.

"What?" Vollk asked.

"My name is Jason." The terran said. "So, stop calling me terran, and I won't call you Batarian. Got that, mister?"

Vollk hesitated for a moment. "Vollk." He answered.

"Mister Vollk." The terran, now named Jason, said. "As I said a second ago, I did it because it was the right thing to do. I saw two officers of the law unfairly persecuting a citizen of the citadel. I plan to report them later." Jason then snorted. "For what good that would do."

With the supplies cleaned up, both men stood up. Jason helped Vollk pick up the large bag. "But I'm Batarian." Vollk said.

Again, the terran rolled his eyes. "That supposed to mean something to me?" He asked. "Look, centuries ago, we used to discriminate against each other over things that today seem trivial. The pigment of our skin, our creed, where we were born, just to name a few. Then there's the stuff that happened between humans and ghouls. We got over that. Mostly." Jason quickly amended. "There are still some backward assholes out there who still think that. But we just ignore them. The point is I'm not going to care what species you are. Turian, Asari, Batarian, Krogan, hell Vorcha, if I see them in trouble, I'll help."

"Last I checked, there were no Vorcha on the citadel." Vollk stated.

The terran shrugged their shoulders. "Whatever, I'll still help them." Jason said.

Vollk still wasn't convinced of the terran's sincerity. Not completely, anyway, he felt that man had more behind it. "There's more, isn't there." He said, deciding to confront the terran on the subject.

The C-Sec officer let out a chuckle. "You're more perceptive than I gave you credit for." He said. "Come on, I'll escort you wherever you need to go. Make sure no one else tries to screw with you."

Seeing no way out, Vollk agreed to the man's offer. They walked into the refugee center. "As for my deeper reasoning. Well, I suppose it's because I know what it's like to live on the lower levels of society."

"Lower levels?" Vollk asked. Last he checked, the Terrans didn't have a caste system like his people did. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know much about the terran people. Only they were helping to fight off the Dragon Orphans, and they were responsible for the creation of the monsters that were terrorizing the galaxy.

"Despite what you might have heard on the news and read on the extranet. We Terrans are not a perfect people." Jason explained as they walked through the refugee center. They got some strange stares from the other refugees, but no one tried anything. Most just want back to their business after a second or two. "There are still places on earth where people live impoverished lives. So, you can imagine what's it like for the colonies. I grew in the slums of one of our oldest colonies, Alpha Centauri. I was an orphan, for most of my life, I barely had anywhere to live, and my meals were on the rare side. It didn't help crime was bad in the area I grew up in." they entered into the Batarian section of the center. "I actually almost ended up joining one of the local gangs."

Vollk felt surprised by that. From what little he had seen of this man, Jason didn't come off as the type to join a gang. "What happened?" He asked. They were nearing where he lived.

The man snorted. "I made the best mistake in my life." He said. "I wanted to prove myself to one of the gangs before I joined them. So, I tried robbing this guy on the street."

"Let me guess, you got caught." Vollk said, getting an impression of where this was going.

The terran officer snorted and laughed. "More than caught." He said. "The guy I tried robbing was a police officer. Before I even knew it, I found my face planted in the pavement with my arm twisted around behind me. After that, I ended up in the juvenile center."

"So, what happened after that?" Vollk asked they were nearing where he lived. "Did you stay there?"

"Believe it or not, I was released the next day." Jason explained. "But I had to stay with one of the officers."

"The same officer that you tried to rob?" Vollk asked, his surprise coming through.

The terran officer smiled. "Yes, I thought the man was insane or worse. And I made that very clear to the man when I found out."

"You called him crazy. The guy who, from the sounds of it, was willing to drop charges on you and take you into his home? That some gratitude." Vollk commented.

"Yea, well, I was fifteen and grew up on streets. I was an angry little shit, you wouldn't believe the verbal abuse I put that through, along with some of the other things I did." Vollk wasn't well versed in terran mannerisms, but even he could detect the tone of regret in his voice. "I was lucky, that man had a lot of patience with me and a tongue almost as sharp as mine." The terran looked up and noticed they were coming up on a small collection of make-shift homes. "I see that we're getting close to where you live. So, I'll cut this short." The man stopped and faced Vollk. "That man got my life to straighten out, and in time I came to view the man as a father. I was officially brought into the family about five years later when he signed the final adoption forms. After twenty years of being alone, I finally had a family. Better late than never, I suppose. And as you can see," He gestured to the uniform he was wearing. "I decided to follow in my father's footsteps."

Vollk nodded. "I'm sure he was proud."

The terran smiled but there was something off about it. "He was." His tone of voice almost cracked.

"Was?" Vollk inquired, getting a bad feeling.

"About a month after my adoption, he was killed in the line of duty." Jason explained. "Fighting broke out between two gangs, and he along with several other units were dispatched to break it up. They tried to settle things peacefully, but one of the gang members wouldn't hear any of it and shot him in the chest several times."

Vollk swallowed. "I'm sorry." He said.

"Don't be," Jason responded. "You weren't the one that killed him. After a little effort, they were able to suppress the two gangs, and get the wounded to a hospital, including my father. He died the next day." The terran snorted, which came off like a small sob. "You what the most damning thing about it was?" Vollk shook his head. "The man that killed him, he used to be one of my friends growing up on the streets. That could have easily been me. I could have been the one that killed him, never knowing the life he would have given me."

"So, what to him?" Vollk asked. "The man that killed your father?"

"Rotting in a jail cell." The terran said bitterly. "Where he belongs. I suppose the point is if someone like me can turn their life around, so can you."

"But I'm a Batarian." Vollk said. "I doubt there are many out there who going to be hiring me for anything. Not with the reputation that the Hegemony built up for my people. We're lucky they even allowed us on the citadel."

"Then you're going to have to prove them wrong. Prove to the rest of the galaxy that the Batarians are not the slavers of the galaxy. Those were the actions of corrupted governments and an equally corrupted upper class. Not the actions of the people. Or at the very least, prove it to the people of this station. Baby steps as they say." Jason looked over the small collection of metal huts. Vollk looked over to see that a couple of the children he cared for were watching them from their hiding place. All of them Batarian. "You're already doing good by watching after those kids. But if you want them to live better lives, then you're going to have to lead by example." The terran activated his Omni-tool. "This is my personal communication frequency. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

Vollk's Omni-tool turned on as it received the information. "I'll think about it." He said.

The terran nodded. "Well, now that I've gotten you here. I'll have to continue with my duties." He said. "Think about what I said here." He glanced over at the children then looked back at Vollk. "You have a good day, mister Vollk. I hope to see you again and under better circumstances." He turned around and walked away.

Vollk watched the terran walking away from. "Thank you," He shouted out at the man. "For your help today."

The terran didn't stop. "As I said. I was doing the right thing." He responded. A few moments later, he was gone.

Vollk looked back over at his home, seeing that more of the children had come out of hiding. His grip tightened around the bag of supplies, he lifted it up and walked to the children. He had a lot of hungry mouths to feed and a lot to think about.


March 11th 18:07, near the border between the Hierarchy and Hegemony

The CC of the Intrepid was a smoking ruin. Captain Miles stood from his command chair. The Klaxons were still blurring. Thankfully, the sound had long since been muted. On the Holographic display, he eyed what remained of his patrol group.

"Alright, now that no one is actively trying to kill us." Miles said. "What in the bloody hell was that?"

His Patrol group, which consisted of an escort carrier (his ship), two destroyers, four frigates, and six corvettes, had been patrolling near what had been the border between the Hierarchy and the former Hegemony. With the Dragon Orphans pushed back and Citadel space secured, pirate activity had been on the rise. Bastards probably saw an opportunity.

With most of their fleet tied up fighting the Dragon Orphans, the turians couldn't space the ships needed to patrol their borders. The Federation seeing an opportunity to further relations with the Hierarchy, offered to aid them in patrolling the borders along with the former Hegemony and the Terminus Systems. The Turians accepted, grateful for the help.

"It looked like we were attacked by pirates, sir." An officer said.

"Those were not pirates, ensign." He corrected the officer. Yes, those ships may have looked like pirate vessels with how old they looked. But they held formation under fire and targeted his ship with as much precision as they had with aggression. Military personnel operated those ships. "Those were Hegemony remnants." He said.

Another problem had risen when they started to push the Dragon Orphans back into Batarian space. They had discovered the elements of the Hegemony had survived, mostly their military. Those elements had begun to harass both Citadel and Federation forces, claiming they would restore the glory of the Hegemony. Eye-roll-inducing as that was, they were a nuisance.

"Now, my question is this." Miles began. "How did they know we were here?" He asked. His patrol group had just dropped out of FTL to vent their cores. Almost immediately, they had been attacked by two dozen enemy ships. Two corvettes and a destroyer had been reduced to derbies before they could respond. They might have been wiped out had it not been for two things. Firstly, while they knew his ship posed a threat, they had still underestimated its capabilities.

Clearly, the Batarians were not impressed by a ship whose firepower came mostly from their strike craft. The Batarians had foolishly sent in a cruiser with first clearing the skies around and under the protection of a single wing of strike craft. Those strike crafts were quickly swept aside, and the cruiser shattered under bombardment from wave after wave of terran strike craft. That cruiser must have been the command ship, as soon after its destruction, the rest of the enemy formation fell apart.

That was when the second thing that saved them came in. The timely arrival of a Turian patrol. Caught between two forces and their command structure in ruins, the enemy fleet had been quickly annihilated. Only a few drifting ships remained of the attacking force.

"They knew we were here?" The officer asked.

Miles nodded. "They did. That attack was too perfectly timed for it to be a random attack. They knew our patrol route and planned accordingly. We have a leak somewhere."

"You mean someone might have betrayed us?" The officer asked in disbelief.

Miles didn't like it any more than his officer did. But it did seem like the most likely option. "We'll have to contact FSS to see if they can pluck this leak and find out who gave us away." He eyed the handful of drifting ships that was all that remained of the enemy fleet. Those ships had answers on them. "Ready boarding parties for those ships. I want their crews taken into custody and their data files downloaded." If those were crewed by military personnel, they were purging their systems right now. But it was possible with the help of Federation AI's, they could recover something of use. While they were at it, they might try salvaging something from the wrecks of the enemy ships. The best candidate would be the flagship. "Get in contact with the turian patrol. I want to think whoever just saved our asses. Also, get me a status report on the patrol group."

"Aye, sir."

A moment later, the image of turian appeared on his terminal. "Captain Damien Miles, FVS. Intrepid in command of the 28th patrol group." He said, saluting the man. "I think you for saving us there. I don't know what we have done without your help.

The turian captain returned the gesture with the turian equivalent. "Captain Velous here. HWS. Shadow of Menae 127TH patrol fleet. It was my pleasure, Captain Miles. Dealing with pirates is a part of the job."

"Those weren't pirates, captain." Miles explained. "They were ruminated forces of the Hegemony."

The turian rubbed his chin as his mandibles flared. "I see. Care to tell me what here?"

"Of course, captain." Miles replied. He then relayed the events of the battle and his suspicions. While that happened, he got a report on the status of the fleet. It was in bad shape. They only two functional corvettes left. Two frigates had been disabled, with one that would have to be scuttled, their remaining destroyer was still operational but heavily damaged. To his relief, the Intrepid had suffered the least amount of damage. Even then one of its hangers took a nasty hit from the enemy cruiser's main cannons. His patrol group would be out of action for weeks.

"Damn." Captain Velous said once he was brought up to speed. "I think you might be right. I'll have to contact Hierarchy Intelligence to see if they can dig up anything."

Miles nodded. "I'm sending boarding parties over to the disabled enemy ships. I want to see if we can get anything out of their databases. Might even try interrogating the crew. Any help from you would be appreciated."

The turian captain nodded. "You'll have my support. But if these are military personnel, they are most likely purging their databanks now. We might not be able to get much."

"True." Captain Miles admitted. "But our synths might be able to salvage something. Even then, we can always interrogate the prisoners."

The turian nodded. "Alright, then I'll be sending out additional bordering parties to assist yours." He said. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yea, if you can send in some technicians to help with repairs, that would be greatly appreciated." Capitan miles said. "We can also use more eyes out there to search more survivors."

"You'll have them within the hour." Captain Velous said. He then saluted. "Good luck out there."

Miles returned the salute before the turian's image vanished. "Sir," A crewman said.

"Yes, what is?" Miles asked.

"The Starlight had picked up something unusual." The crewman said. "A derelict vessel in orbit of the planet we're close to."

An image appeared in front of Miles. Showing a vessel, he'd never seen before. But it vaguely resembles some of the Citadel vessels he's seen. "A derelict?" he asked for confirmation.

"Yes, sir?" The crewman confirmed. "The Starlight's scans showed no life signs, but strangely the vessel does show signs of low levels of power running through it. According to our databanks, it's an old Citadel cargo hauler."

Miles raised an eyebrow. "How old are we speaking here?"

"Thousands of years, sir." The crewman responded. "This thing hasn't been in service since the Ranchi War.

Miles was now mussing to himself. It seemed they had stumbled upon a mystery here. "Interesting. Once repairs are underway and we've taken the prisoners in, we'll send in a team to investigate." Little did the terran captain know this investigation would cause a lot of headaches. "If anything, else, the historians are going to have a field day over this."


A little bit different from the other chapters. Instead following our heroes or depicting massive battles, we get a small look at life around the galaxy. A doctor trying to save lives, kids having fun, a businessman looking into new ventures, and man down on his luck. Can anyone guess what the Terran patrol found at the end of the chapter? Let's just say the Krogan may not be to happy about some unfinished business. That said anyone else imagining Garrus as a Green Lantern now? I can see him and Hal quickly becoming best buddies and causing the Guardians a lot of head headaches.

Not much longer in this story, I'm thinking two chapter and an epilogue. It's a little surreal to think about, in a few months I'll be finished with my first full story, not counting one-shots. I hope you guys enjoy this ride as much as I have.

See you in the next update and try to safe out there guys. The world's getting a little crazy out there... than again that's nothing new.