The Interloper

by Rellah

When a small colony is attacked by slavers, 21-year-old Paxton Harbor is embroiled in a plot that could leave everyone he knows dead…or worse. An unlikely team with social pariahs, wannabe politicos, and Citadel insiders is forced together on a galaxy-wide hunt to stop the slavers. As they explore the criminal underworld, they discover uncomfortable truths about themselves.

1. Proserpina's Abduction

Proserpina's Abduction

Breaths.

It was all he could hear; shallow, fast breaths exiting out from mouth as he tried—and he desperately tried—to fill his lungs with air. When he tried to raise his head, it was slammed back down with a blunt object. A weakened, tired, defeated scream came from him but, at this point, it nothing more than a low grunt. He tried mumbling some words, but they were lost in a state of confusion and pain.

Pain.

It was all he could feel; sharp, stinging, paralyzing pain stretching across his body. From his toes, the back of his hand, and to his head he could feel nothing but an unending stream of pain shooting across his body. Each time he tried to think another forceful blow struck his body. It seemed like days, maybe even months, of this unstoppable and never-ending flow of pain in his body. There was nothing in his mind anymore besides just wanting the pain to stop. He just wanted it to be over.

"Again." Said a disembodied voice. It was a cold, stern voice ringing with authority. There was no feeling in that voice; no smug confidence or pleasure—it just issued out orders without hesitation.

Another blow struck his body. Another agonizing slam against his body, resulting in another broken scream that did little to stop the pain. He felt his vision blur. Even though he was stationary, he felt as if he was spinning in a rapid, circular motion. A few intelligible words came out from his mouth, but they were jumbled and slurred.

"Speak."

Suddenly a sharp needle pressed into his skin, making him wince and twitch at first, but after a few moments he slowly raised his head. The pain, albeit still there, was subdued. For the first time in, what seemed to an eternity, he could think. What day was it? Did any days, months, years pass? It didn't matter at this point, he just wanted to go home.

His vision was still blurry, and he could only make out the figure before him, but his vision was still weak and could barely make out the figure's features. A bright white light flushed out his vision. The figure, darkened in a silhouette, brought its fingers underneath his chin. The figure raised his head slowly until their eyes met.

"Speak." The figure was more agitated.

But he couldn't. All he wanted was to go home and lay in bed, to sleep and forgot all of this. He wanted to provide an answer but nothing besides confused sounds were given out. There was a disconnect; when he spoke, he knew what he was saying but what he heard wasn't his voice, but instead a dying animal waiting, wanting to be put down

Another blow hit against him.

"Speak." The figure, now sounding more frustrated than annoyed, gripped its weapon and raised it above him. This was no longer an order; this was a warning.

Nothing could escape his mouth now, absolutely nothing. There was nothing left to say. The figure was going to keep hitting, he would keep feeling the pain, and the cycle of blacking-out and reawakening to more pain would continue. There was no point to even try at this point.

It wasn't going to stop.

...

The figure raised its weapon once more, bringing it over their head. For a brief moment they locked glances. And during that moment, he thought they were going to stop as the figure's face looked…glum. But he was wrong. The face twisted into a snarl before falling into a contemptuous glare.

With this incoming blow, he didn't know if he was going to wake up.

"THE WORLD IS ENDING!" Shouted a woman as she pointed her finger at the sky. She ran away as her floppy dress flung behind her. Into the neighborhood she went and screeched her larynx out. "THEY'RE FROM ABOVE!"

After the woman's warnings, the blue sky above had begun to grow dimmer, shifting into a bleak and gloomy gray. The ground below shook from the stampede of people scrambling in fear. Within an instant, flying saucers flew down from the sky. Red beams flung out from the ships, creating a spectacle of explosions in the neighborhood.

Some people grabbed their guns, or took their family and hobbled into a car, and others hid away inside a closet to pray. All they knew was their world was shattering from above, and they could do absolutely nothing about it.

Extended past the neighborhood was a city, with glorious skyscrapers that soared into the sky. Now those skyscrapers were being bombarded with red beams being shot at them. The air in the world had grown heavy and black, its clogged people's throats as they tried to breath. Houses, lawns, and buildings all burned down with an intense, deep, and voracious fire.

Destroying everything.

"Tasteless." He murmured, quickly swiping the old black and white human vid off from his tablet. He shook his head while bringing up a mug of coffee to his mouth. When he sat the, now empty, mug onto the table, he scanned his eyes around the café.

In the café were groups of colonists who were huddled around tables laughing and clinking their mugs. There were a few lovers who were united under a band of lights dangling from the ceiling. Other people were making small talk as they ate their meals at the counter. They dressed in outfits made for laborers, miners, and farmers, and their dusty appearances—weathered hands, cracked faces, and fingertips dotted with calluses

Alone in the corner of the café sat the 21-year-old Paxton Harbor. To Paxton, ending up alone in a café with an, also, empty mug of coffee seemed romantic. But he'd rather describe it as cliché. He stared down into the transparent mug, it glistened with reflections from the room. Looking into the bottom of it, besides dried of bits of coffee, Paxton could see himself staring back. In the reflection were two blue, large eyes blinking back at him.

Paxton ran his fingers through his hair; it was short, but it was noticeably growing out. He tied a purple bandanna around his head. The bandanna was more of a cap to him as it covered the top of his head and some of his hair, but het two locks of his dark brown hair spill out from either side of his head. The bandanna was plain, it lacked any patterns, it just solidly purple.

The café smelled of freshly baked goods, grinded coffee beans, and a cinnamon scent that spread out from the bakery section. The faces of the colonists were bright, their smiles stretching along their faces, forever. It was only a wonder to Paxton if these people's faces hurt after an hour. All except for one.

She stood behind the counter wearing an apron and a matching visor; her nametag was flipped backwards. She had long, wavy black hair which was shaved on one side of her head and was wrapped into a ponytail. She was tan and young, around Paxton's age, and had a smile on her face that didn't use her eyes. Her laugh lines showed around her grin. No one around her seemed to stop by, except when they were giving her their order. Paxton saw the little twitch in her smile, the force in her perky eyebrows and bright features.

They exchanged glances, then Paxton forced his down to his tablet and picked up his stylus from the table. The tablet was in the shape of a long rectangle with a shiny black border and a glowing blue screen. Paxton opened a section in his tablet where his journal entries were. He then started to make elegant, quick scribbles on the holographic screen. He fiercely traced the stylus along the screen where he made fast lines of words appear.

July 9, 2180

Did she see me? I really hope not, I hope she doesn't think that I'm stalking her or something. Glances are just glances, no one pays any attention to them, right? The girl doesn't seem to care, though she seems like she doesn't care about much. Well, the people around her don't. It's weird, Proserpina is supposed to be the grandiose highlight of humans' colonization. Our show of strength that we colonize fast. She stands so…longingly. Like she's missing something, but no one sees it. I don't know, she just seems so empty—

"You need a refill? They're only half a credit." The girl said with a stinging amount of apathy in her voice. In her hand was a jar of brewed coffee which had steam flying from the lid. Paxton slowly shook his head as he tugged at the cuffs of his long-sleeved purple shirt. She tilted her head with a sigh and looked across the room, then turned her head back to Paxton. "You're not from here, are you?"

With a quiet voice, Paxton responded. "No."

"What? I didn't hear you."

With a burning in face and knots forming between his fingers, Paxton spoke louder. "No, I'm not from here…why?"

"Well, everyone around here is smiles all the time. Except you. For the past week and a half, I've seen you come in here every day and sit in this little corner all by yourself. Never talking to anybody." She flicked the lid open and coffee poured into Paxton's mug. With a wink, she put her finger up to her lips. "You're like me."

"Oh, well, um, you're too nice. Thanks." Paxton replied. "So, you're not from Proserpina?"

"I'm supposed to be on the Citadel, that's where I go to school. I've done my internship with Alliance techies and I've got to go back home." She shook her head. "The school forget what they were doing and gave me a one-way ticket and won't pay for another trip. They think I messed up. Can you believe it? Anyways, my parents can't afford my trip. Now I'm trying to make ends meet by living off tips. Spending on hotel rooms gets costly. Fast. I really think I should just camp out in a cave somewhere; might discover a new type of worm or something." She sighed. "I only need about three hundred more credits to leave."

"I hope everything works out then."

"You and me both, chokes." She jested, pointing at Paxton's black choker that hugged around his neck. It was moderately sized, soft, and had a sliver ring in the middle. "What? That was very 2177." She went back to standing behind her counter and he went back to writing.

I guess people watching pays off for once. Free coffee, quick conversation, I mean what else could I ask for? I mean, I did get a new name, it's definitely not the worst one. All in good fun, for once. I guess.

After a several minutes of sheepish sipping, Paxton sat the coffee-less mug on the table. His tablet—made of a thin plastic frame with a holographic screen with haptic-feedback—glistened with a new notification. Taking the tablet in his hands, a message was strung along the screen. Its contents were a simple greeting, Hello. The sender's address was blocked.

Confused, Paxton swiped the message aside, deleting it from his device. He then took his tablet and stylus into his purple messenger bag and slung it across his body. Paxton stood up from the chair and started to pace towards the counter, where the girl stood indefinitely. On the counter was a kiosk, he pressed in a few numbers on the screen. Paxton glanced back at her, then back the screen, then back at her, when he finally rested his eyes on the screen, he added a few extra credits.

"Uh, your price is only three credits, you put in 300 credits for a tip." Her voice trailed off as Paxton shrugged his shoulders while giving a slight smile. Her face became even more pale than it already as her mouth dropped from her jaw. "Are you doing what I think you're doing?"

"Last flight to the Citadel leaves in four hours, so…"

"You better not be kidding."

Paxton shook his head.

"Jesus Christ…" She stood back a small amount and took several deep breathes. Then she started to slowly pace back and forth with her hands in her face.

Inside the café, a loud shout escaped from her mouth. The shout made people who were seated jolt, and one unfortunate man, who was reading a book, fall from his chair. People from the outside raised their brows as they peered into the window. The girl almost jumped across the counter; she squeezed Paxton close. He gave a few soft pats on her heaving back as she sucked the life from his body.

The girl quickly undid her apron, threw off her visor, and let loose her hair from its ponytail. She quickly tapped her fingers against the counter while her smile grew across her face.

"Okay, well, I've got to get out of here. Like now. God, I am so excited." The girl spoke quickly and hopped over the counter. "Hey, look, thank you. I literally cannot tell you enough times thank you." She swung her hands in her pockets and swayed somewhat. "So thank you, again."

"It's really no problem."

"You probably just saved my life." The two walked out of the café together, ignoring the angry shouts of her former employer, who was calling for her to get back to work. "I don't know if you'll ever see me again, or if I'll see you again, but I want you to know that if you're ever on the Citadel and want to see me, head to the Low-Life Lounge. The code is 0451. I owe you one."

The girl walked away from Paxton before he called out to her.

"Wait," Paxton blurted. "What is your name?"

"Why would I give my name out if there's a chance I'll never see you again? It's stupid but maybe it'll be like one of those old romantic vids where a guy finds the 'mystery girl' years after meeting her." She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I'll see you in 30 years or 30 days, who knows? It's stupid and cheesy but—"

"No," He interrupted and stuck out his hand. "I don't think it's stupid at all."

"I'm happy someone will play along." She firmly shook his hand. "Don't keep me waiting too long."

She then waved goodbye and skirted down the street, bouncing in her steps and clicking her heels together in an excited jump. Paxton watched as she strode down the street and occasionally turn back and smile. She then became nothing but a small blip in the crowd, disappearing from his sight.

Paxton shook his head and looked around, realizing he was standing in the way of colonists shuffling throughout the street.

Proserpina was one of the most beautiful places he's been. The blue sky stretched far, and the lack of clouds made the sun glimmer across the pavement. The Alliance's newest colony felt like summer to Paxton; the temperature was warm but not hot. Green, lush hills sloped down into reflective water.

It was paradise.

Much to Paxton's surprise, Proserpina's defenses were not as dominant and forthcoming as he expected. It wasn't deep in the Terminus Systems, nearing the border of the Attican Traverse, but Proserpina enjoyed a safe cluster of people living their lives without any fear of any attack. To Paxton, it must've been patriotism and strong sense of futility to ward off any attack these colonists had, but weariness roared in his head.

Though, from his inspection, the colony could sure use some more defenses. A lot more.

But Paxton stood at the edge of a market square, he paced back into a forested area and slumped against a tree, where he looked around at the square's colonists. The shops around the square were built out of the pre-packaged, assembly line units made for colonies, but the colonists took a creative turn and added decorations; modifying their stores for their own purposes. Whether they be bookstores, florists selling plants, or simple boutiques where middle aged woman dragged their husbands in; there was a sense of hominess and nostalgia stirring inside of him.

A small family caught Paxton's attention. Two parents, two little children around a water fountain. The children, when their parents turned around, pushed each other into the fountain and splashed each other. Their parents were horrified at first, especially the mother until her husband splashed water onto her.

It just seemed…right to Paxton. It brought a slight smile upon his face.

In the square, a platform was being set up. A small stage that stood upright against with the background, with it being the bustling shopping district of Proserpina and the surrounding fields and tram ways that swerved around. On the stage, chairs were being arranged in rows and a glass lectern that was stationed in the middle. Its circular seal was then pressed on; the logo of the Human Embassy with a title swirling around it: OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY-GENERAL OF THE HUMAN EMBASSY.

Now that official brought on a…confusing feeling. Paxton watched as the stage was being up for the Secretary-General.

The Secretary-General was responsible for overseeing the diplomatic mission of an embassy; they are administrators. The Secretary-General was appointed by the government of each species to directly oversee the Ambassador, or the Councilor if an embassy had one. Thought not as publicized as the actual representatives, they held power in negotiations with appointing diplomats and working with fellow Secretaries-General.

While the Councilors and Ambassadors did the diplomatic work, the Secretary-General focused on the day-to-day functions of the embassy; budgeting with the Citadel Council and other Secretary-General offices, making sure immigration is working, and other tasks to make sure the embassy was functioning. The Secretary-General made sure the official representatives could do their jobs without interference from government mismanagement…and the resulting political fallout that would follow.

The Secretary-Generals weren't official representatives, but they were instrumental in maintaining relations with other embassies and ensuring political, military, and economic deals were approved. In some cases, a Secretary-General could initiate a directive or, if given permission by a top representative, act as a diplomat in getting colony charters. Due to them not being in the spotlight, they tended to serve longer terms which allowed positive relations to foster, or for stand-offish rivalries to fester.

Paxton moved along and looked towards a forest and found an empty, desolate dirt path. Taking a walk down the path, Paxton let the leaves under his black boots crunch and felt the wind wave his hair behind him. Furthering himself away from the people and into the quiet woods, Paxton hummed as the loudness of the market square faded into the background.

Sitting on the ground, Paxton put his back against a fallen log of a tree and took out his tablet and stylus, again.

This. Quietness and peace, alone with myself from them. Nothing can beat spending time alone on colony light years away from home. I hope that girl gets back to the Citadel, I'd hate for her to stranded here. Paradise is paradise until someone takes Proserpina to the Underworld. Proserpina's abduction is never a pretty sight.

Maybe I'll be spared from the Underworld. Or at least I'll get a shining golden badge for helping out that girl. Whoever she is, I'll try to make it to the "Low-Life Lounge" or whatever she calls it. Sounds a place to shoot up on red sand and get drunk until you can't remember what caused you to drink in the first place. Sounds fun. Oh the Secretary-General would be so proud,

His tablet ringed with another notification. Paxton let his frustration fly out his mouth a sigh, he opened the message from her.

Be at the tram stop, I'll be at Platform 4. We should be heading back now.

Rolling his eyes, Paxton shook his head and threw his tablet and stylus into his bag. He laid on the ground for a moment, glaring upwards at the leaves hanging over him. The light pushed itself through every crack in between every leaf, it created a spectacle of spotted light glistening over him and leaving parts of him left in the dark. On his face was a fight between it wanting to droop with a frown or be pulled back with contempt. He settled with blankness, for it required no effort.

There was something about this forest, this little dirt path with trees looming over Paxton that made him feel a sharp twang of memories flowing into his mind. It blurred between mismatched emotions, there was twist in his stomach and his hair started to stand. His eyes darted upwards and downwards; they threw themselves across the forest's ceiling. Paxton sighed, he shoved his body upwards, slung his bag across his body, and exited the forest.

Paxton shuffled himself back onto a concrete pathway down by the market square. With calmer breaths, he briskly walked down the side of the square and found himself on a way towards the tram station. He shook his head, with that, the memories of the forest found its way out from his mind. Looking at a sign on the street, it pointed towards his arrival at the tram station. Now ingrained into Paxton's mind was her.

Her. Just the very thought of her made Paxton keep his head down, hunch his shoulders, and walk slower. Anything was better, to Paxton, than dealing with her. Not even after 21 years of forced togetherness, Paxton could stand to be near her. In his stomach, he felt as if there was two people playing tug-of-war. It's twisting only increased as he became closer to the tram stop.

Walking through the lightly secured open station, which also acted as a spaceport. Multiple platforms stood with groups of people huddled around each other and looking towards a screen of which galactic news rolled out into their minds. They watched either sneering at the faces at the faces of non-humans, and subsequently groaning, or shrugging their shoulders and pointing their eyes at the time on the screen, groaning too at the times they'll arrive home.

And there she was.

The pavement below him clicked from him dragging his boots, his fair skin became even paler when he saw her standing at Platform 4. She stood with a tablet in her hand, her crimson slips on dress shoes tapping against the ground, and with a bite in her bottom lip. A bottom lip with one vertical streak of red lipstick in the middle.

She glowed of a deep crimson; snug around her body was a sleeveless, high collared crimson jumpsuit that had a thin dark belt around her middle. Her long, dark brown hair had slight waves in it; she rolled it around her ears. With a twist of her head, she glared at Paxton with her steely, intense gray eyes. Rung around her eyes was winged black mascara. Like a predator's stare at prey, her glare searched into Paxton's being—it was as if she was plotting a mission in her head.

Her name is Alexandria Harbor.

Standing next to Alex, Paxton held onto the strap of his bag, he clutched towards his chest and kept his eyes pointing down at his boots. He could feel her watching him, staring with a blank face and then shaking her head. She put her hands on her hips and gazed off into the distance of other platforms, keeping her head held high with a begrudged frown on her face.

"I have a question," Alex said with a flat but loud voice, her face still pointing away from Paxton's sight. "how much do sob stories cost?"

"I-I, I'm not— "

"Great," She sighed, crossing her arms while shaking her head. "because losing 300 credits to a person that you don't know is always a fantastic way to throw away money down the drain." Paxton looked back at her, confused. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but his mouth remained shut. Alex turned to face him. "When someone comes up to as excited as some junkie who got a new fix, talking about some guy in purple got her a ticket of this colony—you make connections."

Paxton kept his head and shoulders slouched down, he ran his fingers along the strap of his bag and locked them around the very end. In his field of vison, he saw Alex's fingers snap and then point up towards her eyes.

"Remember, don't lose eye contact."

"Right, I forgot."

"Now Pax, if you really want to help people out you probably know who you're helping rather than what you're helping. Not every noble cause carries a noble person. For all you know she could be at a bar right now drinking up with some her friends. She probably brought a round for everyone. Typical."

"Oh God…Alex, not this again." Paxton groaned. "That was one time two years ago. She looked homeless and sounded like she was in need."

"Looked," She emphasized, "It was some asari thief who wanted your credits. They only target people like you, Pax." Alex sighed. "Just don't do it again."

"Yes, Alex." Paxton said, annoyed. "Am I supposed to be sorry to you?"

"Don't be sorry to me," Alex scoffed, twisting her head back to the tram. "be sorry to your bank account. Again."

As soon as Alex looked towards the tram, Paxton could feel the slight vibration of tablet from his bag. With discretion, he slid out his tablet from his bag and saw another notification from the same sender from before. Their message, again, had a similar greeting from before, Hello. Paxton sighed, deleting the message again and bringing himself back to the tram in front of him.

Alex and Paxton stood in silence next to each other at the edges of the platform, never looking at the other. Standing next to each other, they were almost identical—same height at 5'10, same dark brown hair with little waves, same oval face with the same sharp jaw, same average build and fair skin, and their faces were practically indistinguishable. Besides their eye colors, and size as Alex's were smaller, and the obvious physiological differences of their sex, the two 21-year-olds looked eerily similar.

With minor adjustments, they could pose as each other without difficulty.

"God, I hate it here." Alex admitted. "Everything feels so…undeveloped. I feel like I'm walking in some strange little backwards town with a bunch of farmers neck-deep in crops and drugs. It's unnerving."

"It's a colony, Alex."

"And? It's stacked with a bunch of Earthers. Whenever I say that I'm from the Citadel they assume that I'm some kind of…snob."

"Assume?"

"Oh you're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?"

"Yes!"

"You're judging people who literally are working day-in and day-out because you don't like them! Do you know how ridiculous you sound? Just because it doesn't meet your standards doesn't mean it's not great." Alex narrowed her eyes. "That girl probably isn't—"

"Probably. Just listen to yourself, Pax"

"Oh, I should?"

"Yes!"

Alex crossed her arms. "Please, if you were me, you'd understand a lot more than what you think you understand. Not everyone is some kind of flower girl you can give money to and become friends. Ever think about giving some money to Arcadius Ataraxia? You could just buyback that friendship."

Paxton, red in the face, crossed his arms as well. Alex shook her head and gave her attention to her tablet.

They stood silently next to each other, but their anger radiated off their bodies.

When the tram arrived, the Harbors walked sluggishly onto the tram. When they walked down the tram, they sat in seats separate from each other in an aisle, both shifting themselves towards the windows.

With the tram moving now, Paxton slumped against the window, his face pressing against it while he stared out into the Proserpina landscape. Becoming smaller with every second, he saw the central hub of the colony zip away into nothingness, now all the remained was miles of green trees and lush landscapes. Standing strikingly was the acrologies; needle like structures that soared into the sky for miles, housing the colonists on Proserpina, and the Harbors.

Mining facilities and farms occupied the landscape, as that was where most of the colonists worked.

He turned his head towards his sister, she had her arm resting on the arm on the chair, gazing as well into the distance. Almost in a discreet fashion, Alex had her foot slid underneath the chair in front of her, tapping it with such a velocity it made Paxton wonder why the tram hadn't derailed yet. In the reflection, in the window in front her, she vaguely saw her brother staring over at her. Alex glared back; she twisted her upper body fully towards the window with a loud grunt.

Paxton slouched back into his seat; his body jittered from a heavy heave of air. He bowed his head and felt his frustration fade. As he looked back in the window, spotting Alex, he took out his tablet and stylus again, and wrote with a shaky, slippery hand.

I'm sorry.

...

Like tap shoes, Alex's flats made loud clicks on the floor while Paxton's boots only made small beats; little sounds that trailed behind him. She was talking, more so ordering, a person over a call about law school coursework.

The corridor they walked along was a steely grey, glowing with a dark blue that was strips on lights, each placed beside the walls of the corridor. Cold blue doors lined up along the walls, each stamped with a small number, name of each colonist's last name, and small slot for mail. Reaching towards the end of the hallway, the Harbors walked towards another door, however this door had a sign placed on it, in bold letters it said, SECRETARY-GENERAL M. HARBOR.

After Alex tapped the code into the door's keypad, they walked in.

"…if you cannot handle the caseload, then give the work to someone who can handle—oh, so you can? Good—" Alex's cut herself off mid-sentence when her eyes were met with a large, empty room. All there was just white containers sealed tight and large windows ingrained into the wall, shining the room with Proserpina's light. "Something just came up. Bye." She turned to Paxton. "Where did everything go?"

"I wouldn't know." Paxton shrugged his shoulders. "Scavenger hunt, maybe?"

"An answer would be nice."

When he sighed, they heard another sigh come out from a behind a door down a hallway. Although this sigh was of relief. The two started down the hallway and stopped when they heard a woman start speaking.

"...thank you for asking. I have to say, things are going pretty well. Great colony, beautiful day—for once, things are ticking upwards. You ever feel like that? Where things are going to be okay?" Said a woman with a loud voice that raised with a calm, yet powerful excitement. From the opening of the door, they saw a woman sitting in a chair at a desk. She leaned forwards, looking intently at a computer with a turian on it. "Your people are always so busy, and I do respect that, but do turians ever have those moments where they appreciate how much they've accomplished?"

"Do humans ever have those moments where they do their work then decide to not kick back and celebrate prematurely?" The turian on the screen replied. She kept her fingers busy by adjusting an older, outdated pistol which most likely was over decades old. She still looked over her aged weapon with the same attention and care as if it were new. "Melanie, I need to get back to work. Someone needs to."

She glared at him, shook her head, and curled her mouth into a small, tight grin. Setting the gun on the desk, she held her fingers together and rested her hand under her chin. She tilted her head and let a laugh escape from her mouth. When she stared at the glowing screen in front of her, she used her stare to search beyond the turian's eyes.

"Get to it then, I'm not holding you back. And I'm on my legally scheduled 15-minute break, I can't be working right now. Believe me, I want to." She said. "Look, I know it's early, but I believe Proserpina is being called one of the Alliance's greatest colonization efforts."

"Only because you practically took out from the hands of the turian embassy—my embassy, Melanie."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Valerius. I managed to convince the Alliance Prime Minister—which is pretty much impossible to do in and of itself—to reduce the costs of the appropriations that your people have to pay following the Fist Contact War in exchange for the colony charter. You ought to be thanking me."

"Relay 314 Incident," The turian diplomat corrected as he cleared his throat. "And I suppose you're right. Celebrate all you want."

"Wasn't asking for your permission."

"As if I'd want to order you around. You'd be the worst solider to command. Too boastful."

"You'd be the worst commander to follow orders. You'd practically beg for insubordination." They shared a small laugh. "Now I see why your office is so slow to do anything."

"Now I see why your office has such a high turnover rate."

She bit her lip and eyed the turian on the screen. She set her glass on the desk and leaned forward. "I believe in time that Proserpina will become Earth 2.0—maybe even bigger. Now I may seem insane, but I know I'm right. People have always told me that I think…a bit out-there, as they've put it respectfully."

"And they're right."

"I may seem…cocky—"

"That's putting it mildly."

"But," She continued. "This is the colony people are going to think when they see a human. Proserpina has more potential than I believe any of our colonies have. I know it'll happen. And I'll be there to see through it every step of the way."

"Don't be too confident or else someone is going to shoot you down, Melanie."

"That's why I always bring spare ammunition." She chuckled. She tilted her head behind her and saw two sets of eyes staring back at her. "Speaking of which, I'm going to have to leave, I need to find two bullets for my gun."

Disconnecting from the call before he could reply, she swirled her pointer finger in the air and then ticked it down to the desk a few times, prompting Paxton and Alex to come from behind the door to in front of her desk, where they then gave her a firm salute.

Around her neck was a pear neckless which was weathered somewhat. She wore a navy-blue collarless jacket and matching pants, a white shirt, and attached to her jacket was a pin of the Human Embassy on the Citadel. Her brown hair, with several light gray streaks, was cut above her shoulder's as if she was still following military protocol.

She had a scar over her right eye; an old red slice on her face which was fading away into her fair skin. Her eyes were a dark blue, like a night sky without the sparkle of stars. It was obvious from the slight wrinkles creased around her mouth and under her eyes, that she was middle-aged, but her face still resembled that of a young woman's crossed between a stern military commander; she was 52-years old. Even if she looked ten years younger, it didn't break the strict look she seemed to always have. It always seemed like she knew what was going to happen, and if she didn't—she knew exactly how to respond.

Her name is Melanie Harbor.

"Where is everything?" Alex said, placing her hands on her hips.

"Hello to you, too, Alexandria." Melanie said plainly. "Having a good day?"

"Where is everything? I'm busy and I need to speak with important people on the—"

"No." She said firmly and pointed towards the door. "It's packed away like your respect. You can exit out the door you came from. You'll find out sooner than later where everything is." Melanie turned her attention to the terminal on her desk, focusing on the orange glowing screen in front of her—oblivious to the two in front of her.

Alex's, now red, face fell with a sneer. She grimaced at first before quickly switching her face into a blank, tense calmness.

"I will speak to you later, Alexandria."

"Yes…" Paxton saw her stumble when she picked up her flats from the ground. She turned her face back to them, glaring. "Ma'am."

She shut the door, but it was more of a slam.

Paxton looked towards his boots again and let out a small sigh, he followed in his sister's steps and started to drag himself out the office.

"'You' is a singular word which was directed at a singular person. Sit." Melanie said without breaking her gaze from the terminal in front of her. Paxton jolted, turned his back towards her, sat in the chair, and let his bag lay across his lap.

Paxton looked around the room; it was devoid of anything, containers like the ones in the entrance sat in separate corners, but in the corner of the room was a small, cot-like bed, and another copy of her suit was hung on the wall. The room felt like a prison cell; it was of a cold, steely, boxy design, and, aiding with the tightness of the room, was the light barely shining through closed blinds.

Melanie typed away at the screen in front of her face, words flinging to the screen with every stroke of her fingers across the holographic keyboard. Whenever he saw her type it was amazing because of how she expertly threw words across the screen. He was surprised that her hands didn't detach from her wrists and run away from the speed she was going. Her eyes never left the screen, Melanie's face was fixed in a frozen state of a stern gaze conflicting with a downturned mouth.

"I'm sorry for interrupting and prying into your conversation with Mr. Ataraxia, ma'am." Paxton broke the silence, causing Melanie to shift herself towards Paxton. He looked at her straight in the eyes, her stare fixed upon him; he felt as if she was beyond Paxton, searching into his soul and reading beyond his outward appearance, like what she did with the turian. "It won't happen again; you could've been discussing sensitive information with him and I shouldn't have intruded upon—"

"I appreciate that, Paxton. It's not often I hear a genuine apology from people." Melanie's lips turned upwards with a small smile. "Mr. Ataraxia and I were having a causal discussion, it's not anything to be worried about. We were just talking about what's going on with our lives. Not a bad man to talk to honestly, he keeps it entertaining.

"And Paxton, do not eavesdrop on my calls again."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry." Paxton stammered. He ticked his fingers together. "How is, um, how is your day?" Paxton stumbled with his words, his hands twisting around the zipper of his bag. "Are you doing okay?"

"Okay?" Melanie said with a now lively voice. She turned off her terminal, she put her hands under chin and rested her elbows on the desk. A smile strung along her face; it was as if she took great pleasure in what she was about to say. "Paxton, Proserpina is doing better than the Alliance ever thought possible, it has beaten all of our projections. Our economy is shot up by an unexpected and extra .5% last year because of Proserpina! It may not seem like a lot but adding an extra couple hundred million in profits is always good." She laughed and turned it down into a sigh. "Enough about me. Paxton, how are you?"

"That's beside the point," Said Paxton, shuffling in the chair. "would you like me to talk to Alex for you?"

"What? No. Your sister is being, well, your sister. I don't know what's bothering her. It's a shame, a bright young woman is such a hothead. I don't believe she likes us very much." Melanie shook her head and collected herself with a sigh. Looking back at Paxton, her mouth formed with a slight grin. "I was going to tell you both this before Alexandria stormed off, but the reason everything is packed up is because we're leaving the day after tomorrow and heading back home."

"Oh."

"Yes, yes, I know. I wish I could stay here too, but we have to go back home or else it wouldn't be a home anymore, yes?" Paxton nodded. "Good. Tomorrow is a day busy for us. I have to do a speech to commemorate the one-year anniversary of Proserpina. Little security this time, everything seems to be going fine. There's not much raider or gang activity in this area of the Terminus. But it'll be just like all the rest of the speeches Paxton: I stand behind a podium and give flattery to the people beside me for doing their jobs. Business as usual."

"Your speech will be good as usual, ma'am."

"Don't kid with me, Paxton." She chuckled, bringing a finger to her temple and leaning her arm on the desk. She cracked a half-smile and scoffed. "Look at you, you're evading my questions. Now this time you answer, how are you?"

"Fine." Paxton said. He tried to avoid her eyes, but she was relentless. He felt for the people who had to go through negotiations with her, as just her glance was enough to disarm anyone she came across.

"Just doing fine?" She calmed her voice and looked straight at Paxton, staring into her son's eyes. "We both know you've got a lot more to say. What's on your mind?"

His hands slipped back into his sleeves, his fingers gnawed at the fabric and wrestled with it, twisting it around his hands. Washing over Paxton, a sharp twang of guilt pierced his stomach and made it collapse. Paxton's face darted upwards at her, his hands still making knots with itself.

Paxton hesitated at first, but said, "When I was out today, I gave out 300—"

On Melanie's desk, her terminal ringed. Its orange screen flashed on with a new caller. She quickly snapped the pistol to her side and rolled her hair behind her ears.

"That sounds great, Paxton. We had a good talk but now I've got to do a conference call with the other Secretaries-General." She then grumbled. "Some turian seemed to forget to relay the message." Melanie hastily moved around the room, grabbed a couple of tablets and folders and laid them across her desk. She shook her head and a great sigh came out from her mouth.

She looked down at Paxton, who was still patiently sitting in his chair, his face met with disappointment. His head pointed downwards but his eyes still met with hers. Melanie nudged her head towards the door as she proceeded to answer the call and pick up the files on her desk and discuss their importance.

Paxton slouched upwards from the chair, he put his hands into his pockets and glued his eyes towards the floor. He paced out the door and walked with slow steps down the hall, his body jumped when he heard a loud shut from Melanie's door. Holding the bag close to his chest, Paxton's face grew back into its default gaze; unamused eyes with a resting frown.

...

The moon hung over the night sky; its glow flooded through the blinds of the room. The shadows folded into neat lines that found their place along the floor, leaving the room in a mismatched glow of moonlight which left the room caught in a fight between darkness and lightness. Across Paxton's face, the folding of the moonlight from behind the blinds lit his face.

Paxton sat the desk, which sat against the window of the room, and beside a bed. He had his arms resting on the desk and his arm glowed with his Omni-Tool. Paxton was pressing into it and was meddling with its functions. The orange light from his arm illuminated the room and splashed along Paxton's eyes.

HISS!

A small sting of electricity zapped at the tip of Paxton's fingers. He winced and shook the his slightly warmed hands, shaking the Omni-Tool's shock off him. Paxton turned his Omni-Tool off and leaned back into his chair with a heavy sigh, he ticked his non-shocked hand fingers along the desk to the rhythm of his shaking head.

This should be the easy part. Damn it, I really should not be slacking on this. Sliding into his hands was his tablet and stylus, his eyebrows dropped once more as he tapped away at the screen. Here we go again.

He opened the 'Mail' section of his tablet and scrolled through his emails, finding a starred message under the section titled: DO NOT LOOSE THESE MESSAGES. After whispering thanks towards his past self, Paxton opened a message from a person named Professor Veritas Mendacium.

VERITAS MENDACIUM: Welcome back to Asha Institute! If you're reading this, you're either going to attend my classes or I've sent the wrong message to the wrong section of students—again. Though if you ARE in my Psychology and in my Tech Lab classes, I would like to introduce myself, I'm—

Scrolling past the introduction for the umpteenth time, the screen now showed a data package with the title: OMNI-TOOL OVERCLOCKING SYLLABUS. When the file was opened and download again, much to Paxton's displeasure. The file, which included a program to install the software needed for overclocking and a simple PDF file, listed instructions how to overclock. In the Professor's words,

Maximize the full capability of the unimaginably precious and powerful device that displays over all of our arms! If you have arms, that is.

After countless and tiring readings, and then re-readings, of the instructions, Paxton sat upward in his chair again. Tossing the stylus and tablet onto the desk, opening the Omni-Tool, and then gluing his eyes and plastering his hand to the holographic tool's screen.

Following with his fingers, Paxton's eyes darted from one area of his Omni-Tool to another as he kept twisting down buttons and entering lines of code that spread across the screen. Paxton felt a serene calmness when working with code. Seeing all the numbers race upwards and downwards brought a satisfying feeling of control to him.

Until Paxton entered another line of code on the Omni-Tool and it started to flash red with the warning: OVERHEATING IMINENT, REBOOT STARTED. Pushing a great sigh from his lungs and out from his mouth, Paxton tried to tinker with his Omni-Tool some more, pushing and pressing buttons to cool it down.

His fingers moved fast, like Melanie's. Following his fingers, Paxton's eyes darted from one area of his Omni-Tool to another as he kept pressing down buttons and entering a random allotment of letters and numbers that appeared on the screen. With a flickering red light on the screen, a beeping noise, and an automated voice seemingly begging Paxton to stop trying to fix the Omni-Tool—he still did it anyways.

Paxton's hand started to increase in temperature as the Omni-Tool started to become overwhelmed with the forced overclocking. As sweat fell off Paxton's face and drip onto the desk, his fingers only increased in speed. The warming of his hand started to raise up his wrists, touched his elbows, and rose above Paxton's arm which a sent a fiery flash. Flinching back, Paxton's fingers fell out of order and started to slide and be misplaced across the screen where—

CRACK!

A blue, almost like a lightning bolt, spark erupted from the Omni-Tool, flinging Paxton and out of his chair. He slammed against the floor, twisting on the ground until he slammed against a wall. His breathes heavy, vision blurred, and a burnt smell spread across the room, its scent was like plastic on fire.

Pulling his upper body up, he had his hands firmly planted into the floor and parts of his hair swung over his face. A blip in his foggy vision showed the red from his Omni-Tool draining down into a cool orange. Shaking his head, his vision came back to him and it allowed Paxton to see the toppled chair in front of him.

After releasing a few coughs from his chest, Paxton crawled up against wall, burying his hands into face. He let his breathes calm him down, allowing his lungs and heart to relax. Dragging his hands away from his face, Paxton stood up, almost stumbling as he did.

He threw his bag next to the bed, put the chair back towards the desk, and opened the window and let the burning smell exit out into the sky. Sliding out from the door of his room, Paxton walked with silent steps as he found his way into the bathroom. Standing over the sink, a mirror hung on the wall, showing Paxton's reflection.

Keeping his head down to the sink, Paxton splashed cold water over his face. It shivered and jolted his body, bringing some more energy to his fatigued body. The water drained down from his eyes, leaving them red and puffy. His hands were planted on either side of the sink, he let the water drip from his face on its own accord.

Paxton head tilted upwards, he looked at the groggily, exhausted mess which was his face. He felt he looked like an awkward mix between child and adulthood, that he hasn't aged from his teenage years; calling himself a man would be a disservice to men actually looked, and acted, their age. Maybe if he tried, he would look his age—no use, Paxton figured this was a punishment of some sorts.

Under his eyes were several dark circles, slowly taking precedence around his eyes; it looked like he got punched in both of his eyes and the bruising was only now fading away. He applied some cream around his eyes, watching as it made his dark circles fade.

Another groan escaped from his mouth. Paxton slung his hands into his pockets and paced out from the bathroom door, taking subtle footsteps down the hallway.

White light crawled out from under the door to Alex's room. Soft, low orchestral music emitted from her room as, from what the shadows from the light showed, Alex appeared to be slowly moving across the room. Paxton stood in front of her door, rolling his hands together nervously when he stared at the door. He just hated knocking on doors or entering them, it always disturbed him for a reason he couldn't explain.

After a moment's pause, he called out her name. When the music turned off, he heard her call for the door to open. Alex stood in front of a white board, marker in her hand, and had legal documents and textbooks springing up from her terminal. On the board were scribbled legal strategies, obscure Citadel Council laws, and notes she made to herself.

She didn't turn around when she spoke, "What?"

"Just was wondering if you're doing okay."

"I'm fine." She moved to her computer and scrolled through the pages of a law textbook. It was of the rulings made by the Citadel Council from the past century; she was now analyzing the decisions made by the Council and what laws they to justify their rulings. "I'm busy, Pax."

"I just wanted to talk."

"And I just want to do my coursework." Alex said brusquely, slightly turning her head to her brother.

"Fine." When Paxton turned to leave, he heard the cap of her marker snap back.

"What?" Alex said and leaned against her board. "You said you wanted to talk."

"So…" He wasn't quite sure what to say. Each second he tried to find something to say, she seemed to get more annoyed. "…everything going okay?"

"Yes."

Paxton threw his hands into his pockets. "Did you talk to her—"

"Briefly. That's why I have my whiteboard back."

"Oh…good."

"Yeah…," Alex paused, and said out of politeness, "and you?"

"I'm okay."

She nodded her head and said, "Great."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them. The siblings stood across from each other, but Paxton could imagine her on another planet spinning away. It was as if there had a barrier between them, blocking the other from crossing a certain threshold of each other's lives. It looked as if it didn't bother Alex but Paxton…Paxton hated it.

"Goodnight, Alex."

"Goodnight, Pax."

When he walked out the door, he couldn't help but feel a heaviness in his chest. Paxton looked back at the door and saw it was closed, the orchestral music playing once more He turned to go back to his room until he noticed a quiet noise came out from the living room. He walked to the room and felt wind from the outside.

A door in the living room, leading to a small balcony, was cracked open. The drapes covering the door whipped with the wind. Paxton gently peeled the door open. Melanie stood at the railing, her arms resting on it as she looked off into the bright lights of Proserpina's sky.

"Paxton," Melanie said turning her head towards him. She wore a long-sleeved shirt with light, soft pants and her hair was pulled back into a bun. From her thin shirt, it was evident that, even at 52, she still had a stronger layer of muscle on her body. The moonlight rested across the side of her face, gently illuminating her scar and the soft wrinkles in her face. "isn't beautiful?"

She gestured her hands towards the colony. Towering arcologies sprang around the landscape but the main settlement of the colony, where the colonists had set up areas of entertainment and relaxation. It was a small colony, around 10,000 people, but the growing number of farms and mines drew more colonists in each month. What was striking to Paxton was the few skyscrapers looming in the city, beaming with lights and making the dark world feel less barren than it was.

The center of the main settlement was the marker square. All other parts of the colony stretched out from it. Naturally, it was one of the brightest lights from Proserpina. Paxton could imagine seeing colonists and their families running around, resting together and enjoying their company with their fellow colonists. He imagined see the family from earlier out with themselves again, only this time avoiding the fountain.

Whatever political importance the colony held to Melanie or her turian counterpart, the people on this world ignored their political implications and solely existed with each other.

"It really is." Paxton muttered; his eyesight fixed onto the colony.

They both stood silently for a moment, both taking in Proserpina's glory.

"A lot of people don't like me; they disagree with my politics." She admitted. "A lot say I'm too friendly to the other species and obey their agendas, like reducing the turian appropriations. A lot say I'm some kind of human imperialist, like securing the colonization rights to Proserpina." Melanie spoke calmly as she folded her hands behind her back. She appeared comfortable speaking, even somewhat pleased describing her opponents.

"But what do you say, ma'am?"

Melanie laughed quietly, but it trickled down into a sigh. "I say I'm just Melanie Harbor." She leaned once more on the railing. "It's worked for me for the past 15 years. Haven't lost this job yet.

"I still remember being a solider during our war with the turians. So, I've seen some bad things during that time, been through a lot of bad experiences during my career. Hell, I've wanted to quit this job more times than you could ever imagine. But this," She gestured towards Proserpina again, it was as if she was showing off a proud possession. "this is a better future. This is what keeps me going."

"But do you ever think about how easily it can just…fall apart?" Paxton said grimly, to which Melanie just chuckled.

"I would've said the same thing before," She squeezed Paxton's shoulder and looked up at him closely, studying his features. "If I could tell myself one thing is that there's…there's hope for a better future. It just takes a of believing and work."

"I hope, too." Paxton weakly grinned with his mother.

Her grin faded quietly as her features softened into her face. Melanie let go of his shoulder and placed her hands with Paxton's.

"I won't lie, there's some bad actors out in this galaxy and I know that hope is a strange feeling to have when they're out there." Melanie crossed her arms. "Some are willing to take whatever they want, whoever they want, whenever they want. The Milky Way is truly terrifying place but places like Proserpina…" She paused. "It gives me hope that everything we do won't be in vain."

"And that we have some kind of purpose?" Paxton asked.

"Exactly." Melanie said. "And whenever those people want to destroy everything we built; I'll be there." She yawned. "I have a speech tomorrow. I really need to get to bed. You should too, Paxton."

"I will soon." Paxton watched as his mother walked off the balcony and slid the door close.

Before she closed the door, she whispered; "Goodnight, Paxton."

"Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow."

Melanie clicked the door close which left Paxton alone on the balcony. He mulled over his mother's words; they had just seemed so…calming but it stoked slight fear in him. Whoever these "bad actors" are, I hope they never come to fruition.

He felt a pang of guilt resting inside of him. Perhaps the colony wasn't as bad as he thought it was. People seemed resolve to live their best lives possible here. At least that proved to be a comforting thought.

Paxton stood outside for a while, forgetting time even existed. When he remembered that that the passage of time was a real thing, he went inside. He entered his room and sat on the edge of his bed. He placed his hands on his face as the moonlight still shined over him, keeping him as the brightened object inside the dim room.

As the wind blew out from the wind, it spread through the waves of his hair, tussling with the night's breeze. Leaning back on his bed, Paxton closed his eyes and let the wind take his breath, letting himself flow with the wind. He felt like his body was being carried in the wind, like an angel descent from a heaven, flying in the sky with bliss.

Finally, to Paxton, the world remained at a calm pace. No one desperate to leave, no cold sister, no politically obsessed mother, and no more electric shocks springing from Omni-Tools. Only the comfort of a soft bed—

Glowing in the dark room, the screen of Paxton's tablet flared with another notification. Paxton dragged himself out of the bed as the screen only increased with the outpour of notifications. Kneeling, Paxton looked at the messages, the messages repeated the same greeting.

[USER BLOCKED]: Hello.

Just one moment to myself. All I want. Paxton ignored the message and opened his Omni-Tool. He synced the data between the tablet and his Omni-Tool, then he started to decrypt the sender's address. Normally, it would've been simple for Paxton to figure out who started messaging him anonymously. Using other's information always worked with scammers from the extranet and cheaters from online games who wanted his bank account numbers. Those kinds of people always forgot what they demanded when they received a message with their coordinates.

But this guy…this guy this was a challenge.

This was encryption Paxton had never seen before. Top-notch, military grade level of protection. This wasn't going to be easy but quite possibly entertaining Paxton furrowed his brows, rubbed his chin, and ignored his syllabus; it had always wasted his time. After a brief moment scanning the document, he proceeded to fire away at screen. Each time he made a stride in figuring out the sender, the sender appeared to fine-tune their firewalls in real-time.

Whoever it was knew Paxton was searching for them. It only encouraged Paxton to keep on looking.

After several more attempts at cracking the sender's code, he broke through. Slightly. Across his Omni-Tool was some pieces of information he managed to grab before the sender closed him off.

USER: V***** H******

LOCATION: PROSERPINA, SANGFROID CLUSTER, TERMINUS SYSTEMS

Paxton slammed his hand down onto the bed and watched as his tablet blew up with notifications, again from the same sender, who now referred to itself as VH. Scrolling through the messages they sent, Paxton's face distorted into a grimace as more kept being sent to him. Every second, a message from VH popped onto the screen, only increasing with aggression.

VH: Answer.

Answer the fucking messages.

Not answering me is hilarious, truthfully.

You don't have all day.

You won't have all day.

Here's some free advice: You should really head your mother's warnings.

You aren't alone.

Throwing the tablet across the room, Paxton jumped back towards the edge of the bed. He held tightly on the sheets, making them collapse over his shaking body. Holding the sheets close to him, his chest pounded with an ever-increasing heartbeat.

The buzzing of the notifications from the tablet ceased but the fear inside of Paxton's body exploded into his dilated eyes. Crippled with distress, his body froze, his eyes were kept in a terrified frenzy, staring at the tablet across the room.

...

Rocking slowly back and forth in the plastic chair, Paxton kept tapping his foot against the pavement and continually twisting then untwisting his fingers together. The puffiness of his now red, dry eyes was being bombarded with the shining rays of the afternoon sun above. The sun had no clouds to block its rays, so it honed down on the people below.

The Market Square bloomed with people buzzing around. They were either laughing, finding a place in the small sea of chairs, or discussing what they thought of the Secretary-General and debating her policies. No matter what, Proserpina's colonists took their seats in front of the platform. Across the Market Square, reporters talked to their camera drones or were spending their time interviewing the colonists.

On the empty stage was a lectern and several empty seats. Security guards stood at the edges of the stage on the ground and patrolled the Market Square.

Next to Paxton was an empty chair that was reserved for Alex. But she was busy talking one-on-one with the Proserpina politicians, laughing along to their jokes and getting into serious conversation where she would nod her head frequently and reply with long, wordy answers. Some even grouped around her, listening to her speak about political matters that went over his head. Alex wore the same crimson jumpsuit and belt, only now accompanied with sunglasses. She gracefully moved from official to official, making herself known with each of them. Even at 21, Alex appeared to be a veteran politician; cool, calm, and unbelievably charming.

Through the commotion of the Market Square, Paxton's body still shook from the night before. His heart still thumped with beats that fired off in rapid succession, only a bit slower than the night before. His stomach twisted and churned; it felt as if people were playing tug of war with his small intestine.

When he opened his bag, and turned on his tablet, it was still on the messages from VH. There were no responses, no more messages, and no attempt at anymore communication with Paxton. His fingers shook when he slid up and re-read the messages again.

He took out his stylus and began to frantically write in the journal on his tablet

July 10, 2180

I would say this is joke but I know my friends wouldn't be this cruel towards me, not even Arcadius would be this sadistic. Someone named VH is stalking me. They know about our conversation last night. Oh god, oh my fucking god. I should've just bought myself a ticket with that girl. That's beside the point, I didn't even sleep last night or eat this morning, my stomach hurt from being too terrified throughout the night.

What if VH hurts me? What if they mug me or steal something from me? It's already too late. I'm scared, truly. Six days into being 21 and this happens to me, this year is going to be terrible. Something just doesn't feel right—I can sense it. I can only hope the speech goes well today.

Hope is the key word.

Alex sat in her seat and skimmed through her tablet, reading and replying to emails she received.

From the chair behind the two Harbors, a young man, around their age, slumped his arms on their chairs. Paxton flinched back while Alex remained undisturbed, her gaze still fixated onto her tablet. He looked at her and mumbled under his breath, it was if he was practicing lines for a show. He turned his face to her with a smile half-cracked.

"Hey, you in the red," He shifted his attention to Alex, leaning against her chair and scanning her body with his eyes. "they say there's a lot of fish in the sea. Care if I reel you in?"

"No," Responded Alex, her voice flat and emotionless. She kept her body forwards and didn't turn in his direction. "not interested. And for the love of god, please find a better pickup line because I want to throw up. They sell children's books better versed than you."

The man stood up, his mouth pursed, he stomped off from the chairs and kicked his feet into the ground. That was until a group a similar young woman walked by, for he then started to chat them up. Alex chuckled at the group of young women who collectively threw their drinks at him. She then turned off her tablet and handed it to Paxton, where he stored it inside his bag.

"Pathetic, really." Alex folded her hands over her lap. "Though I bet that he's going to try and try again until he finds a brain-dead girl who doesn't know the difference between attractiveness and awfulness." She said to no one in particular, keeping her gaze fixated on the chairs in front of her. "And I'm talking to myself, great. Christ, I'm crazy."

In the corner of her eye, she saw a jittering brother who looked increasingly fearful with every passing second, it was as if he was on a scaled down version of a hallucinogen with the paranoia still in play. His consistent foot tapping, the fiddle with his fingers, and the constant glances over his shoulders made her release an exasperated groan from her mouth.

"Are you okay?" Alex whispered in Paxton's ear. "Can you not make a scene? Or at the very least, not draw attention? Please try to act normal. Do it for her." Alex folded her leg over her other, looking forward at the stage. "Whatever you're freaking out about probably isn't as important as you think it is.

"Just—" Alex sighed. Her tone shifted to a somber pitch. "Just relax, okay? Please?"

Paxton nodded. "Okay."

The two stood up, along with the other spectators, as the group of Proserpina's politicians, heads of each of the colonies' departments, and Melanie started to walk up to the platform. When group of politicians assembled in a line on the stage, they waved out towards the crowd of adulating colonists and posed together for pictures and videos for the news media.

Paxton's smile didn't touch his eyes, his teeth shook with heavy presses to keep his mouth pointed upwards. Every clap he did was a like a drumstick hitting against a drum with a gaping hole in it; empty and desperate. On the outside, any hint of panic and fear was dissolved, now turned into an over joyful young man, eager to hear his mother's speech.

They saw Melanie spot them in the crowd, she gave a slight wave with her hand towards them and her children returned it with a small wave. When she turned her wave to the entire, large and densely packed crowd of people. She wore her blue suit and pearl necklace again. On her jacket was now a small pin of Earth, a circle of blue oceans and green continents solidified on a metal pin.

Melanie stood beside the lectern as a man stood in front of the microphone, he used his hands to bring down the applause of the crowd and seat the audience.

When the man began talking, he introduced himself as the Director of Proserpina, responsible for the inner and outer workings of the colony. He praised the colony and the underlings in the chairs below him and celebrated his administration's direction of the colony. After, to Paxton, unsettling amount of time, congratulating his staff and briefly the actual colonists, he introduced Melanie.

"…with great pleasure," He said, tilting his head towards Melanie. "I introduce our Secretary-General, serving all of us on the Citadel for the past decade and a half, Melanie Harbor! Madam Secretary-General, you have the audience." He shifted himself away from the lectern and allowed Melanie to stand behind it.

Behind the lectern, Melanie waited for the crowd to end their applause. She brought down her hands several times to cool down the jubilance of the eager colonists. She ended up giving affirmative nods, repeatedly telling them thank you, and giving a smile. After, to Paxton, what seemed to be an awkward minute of her standing, they crowd died down and let her speak.

Melanie cleared her throat, placed her hands on either side of the lectern, and smiled.

"Now if people on the Citadel were only that cheery, I would have less gray in my hair. A lot less grays" Laughed Melanie, as did with crowd. "However, my main goal here today isn't self-gratification it's about the success of Proserpina, one year in the making. With the colonists like you, working day and night in the fields, in your shops, and developing an entirely new culture by this luscious and mesmerizing world—humanity enjoys a fresh, beautiful beginning in our final frontier.

"Whatever problems existed for all of you on the worlds you came from, ceases here. Proserpina is our new beginning. It's our new hope. It doesn't matter what life you left behind to work on this colony, you are here today, standing tall and proud and serving with your brothers and sisters back on Earth, back on Terra Nova, back on Eden Prime, and back on Shanxi!

"It is you, Proserpina, that makes humanity proud! It is you, all of you, that continues to be emblems of our resilience, our strength, and our, especially, our heart!

"We're one year in on Proserpina, but there's a hundred more to go!"

Adoration from the crowd came with the sound of hitting each palm against another. Over the crowd's applause, Paxton looked around the Market Square. Beyond the stage and through the sea of chairs, he saw a skyline of self-built small businesses, the swirling tramways that led to the acrologies, and the forest-like environment that was Proserpina. Peaceful and quaint this colony was.

Melanie and Paxton made eye contact for a moment. He felt her strength and confidence flow within him, her powerful energy easing his problems.

Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be—

BOOM!

Everyone snapped their heads to an explosion from the businesses. A powerful noise that was covered up by ash rising in the sky and dust swarming around the streets. The boom ringed in everyone's ears as they all collectively winced and looked around towards each other, all looking at everyone's feared filled face. There was a tremor that pulsated the ground, shaking all of them. Some yelped and jumped from their seats.

"What the actual…" Alex whispered under her breath. She took off her sunglasses and looked around, her face met with Paxton's, who also was in disbelief and shock.

"Nobody, panic. There, there must've an accident at a mining facility, there's nothing to worry about." Melanie tried to soothe the increasingly panicky crowd. She looked around the stage, all of Proserpina's officials faces became pale. "Remain calm, we're going to resolve this shortly."

With everyone twisting and turning their heads, with the security guards hearing distress signals and running off to the explosion, no one besides Paxton looked directly at the stage. He saw a wavering red dot swirl on the stage floor, finding its way around the stage.

Almost like a game, the dot swirled around Melanie multiple times. Paxton almost fell out of his seat when he whipped his head around and discovered the red dot was a beam, a beam from a forest way behind the Market Square. When squinted, and with a great deal of effort, Paxton could vaguely see someone kneeling and holding down a rifle.

Paxton snapped his head back to Melanie and reached out to her. For a split second, their worlds stood still. They shared another exchange as her face clenched in anticipation of a—

BANG!

A loud screech came out of both Melanie and Paxton's mouth as she was flung backwards. She rolled on the stage and her body knocked into chairs before slamming into the stage's wall. Red liquid soaked her blue jacket, it came out from her side and pooled around her.

The people from the chairs toppled over each other, each one of them screaming and shouting, pushing everyone out of the way. They were like animals, fighting and brawling for a way out of the chairs, each taking precedence over the other while wanting a way to flee this battle. Everyone held their hands over their heads, bracing themselves from a—

BANG!

Alex yanked Paxton's wrist to the ground and hid under the mountain of chairs. Their heartbeats exploding with heavy, fast thuds.

"LISTEN!" Alex yelled, pulling Paxton by the strap of his bag. She put her mouth to his ear and spoke with a harsh, unforgiving tone. "We either die here or-"

BANG!

"ALEX!" Paxton cried out, gripping her arms.

"Look, we go—"

BANG!

The jaw of a security officer was ripped apart from the shot. He collapsed to the ground, his blood pooling out from his mouth.

Alex put her hands on either side of her brother's head, looking at him in eyes. She spoke fast and said, "W-We go the stage and grab her. Trust me, we can do it. And when we do, we get the fuck out of here!" Paxton nodded furiously with her. She yanked him and herself up and they started to run through the chairs together, hand in hand, racing against another bullet.

The two hid behind more chairs, stopping to catch their breath and look at their surroundings. Screams still soared into the air, the people were scattering about and trying to run away from the violent scene. The two Harbors were nearing the stage and they saw it was empty, all besides Melanie and her blood.

BANG!

The indentation of a round landed near their feet, making the siblings fly from behind the chairs. They both shrieked as they fell onto the ground, not before they pulled themselves upward. The two pumped their legs across the ground, each pump of their legs was like a leap that made them fly across the ground. Up the stage, Paxton and Alex grabbed Melanie by her jacket and-

BANG!

A round slammed next to Paxton's head, barely missing him. He screamed again and ducked as himself and his sister pulled Melanie off the stage and placed themselves behind the stage's wall, away from the shooter.

Paxton and Alex put Melanie on her back, she winced when she touched the ground and pressed her hand into crimson wound on her side. Melanie's red blood splattered against her white shirt and blue jacket, with her pants getting the same treatment. She groaned and kept her eyes shut. Her face came down with sweat, it trickled down her face.

"What...what the hell just happened?" Melanie wheezed out, gasping for breath between each word. With a blurred vison, she tried to see around the destructive and deadly environment. She felt a squeeze on her hand coming from Paxton. She pulled him closer and leaned into his ear, whispering. "You. Medi-Gel. Now."

Paxton frantically nodded and opened his Omni-Tool. Pulling up her jacket and shirt, he felt a lightness in his stomach when he saw the gunshot wound on her side, blood coming out from a small, yet painful, graze. Hovering his Omni-Tool over her, it dispensed a transparent ointment which Paxton, with a head turned, rubbed over her wound.

The Medi-Gel sealed tight her wound, the gel holding tight over her skin and providing Melanie a, at that moment, euphoric high that ceased all her pain. She slumped forwards and pulled her clothes back down, giving a nod to Paxton in process.

"Someone, someone just shot you!" Alex growled; her fury tightened into her fist. "We need to get out of here!"

"Whoever it was, they shot at a diplomat and killed many; they will never see the light of day again. Should've known this was coming. Fuck." Melanie struggled to stand, but feeling the adrenaline rise in her body, she stood up. She scanned her eyes around the ugly sight of Proserpina. Quickly, she formulated a plan.

She pulled a pistol that was holstered at her side. With the gesture of her hand, she brought her children to their feet. "We run, faster than what than what you've ever ran before and faster than what you will run in the future. I stay in front and you both follow my lead. We head to the tram station and it'll take us to the spaceport, and we'll get out there. No questions, comments, concerns—you do exactly as I say."

"Yes, ma'am!" Paxton and Alex frantically said together. On their faces was a mix of sweat, exasperation, and fear. Their eyes both were dilated, they looked like a deer were forever trapped in the headlights.

Taking lead, Melanie ran with her children, and raced away from the stage. They heard shots still being fired from the unknown sniper, and with those shots, screams were put a halt as people's lives splattered onto the ground.

A chorus of screams, sirens, and shots rang in the background, engulfing Proserpina with an awful amount of air pollution. Ash from the exploded building flowed through the sky, finding its way into the clouds. The once pristine, blue, sunny sky was turning into a black, smoggy mess of death.

BOOM!

Another building was blown to shreds, every piece of the building was scattered across the ground. The building was no longer its namesake, it was just a pile of rubble and debris. When people tried running down the street, opposite of the bombed pile of ash, a gun released rounds into them, spurting their blood everywhere.

Paxton teared up seeing the fountain, once stood in proud glory, filled with debris and dripping with blood, turning the water a deep red.

Some people grabbed their guns or took their family and hobbled into a closed off building, and others hid away inside a closet to pray. All they knew was their world—their lives—was shattering, and they could do nothing about it.

The Harbors frantically ran throughout the streets as shots rang out from multiple distances, gunfire surrounding the entirety of Proserpina. Overhead, they saw a ship flying into the sky, it was a large merchant ship, but it wasn't deterring its course and flying out away from Proserpina, it was accelerating it.

Hiding in a forested area, they saw the ship land in the center of the Market Square, it touched down and the cargo bay of the ship opened.

Out came heavily armed, purple and black armored soldiers who's faces was hidden behind a helmet. They shot at any living person who was still squirming for life in the chairs, popping a round into their head. From their armor, they didn't appear to be human, if anything, they weren't lacking in diversity—besides the lack of any humans. And there were a lot of them.

Melanie gasped; her skin turned pale when she looked at the assortment of the soldiers. She stared at their every move, from the way they held their guns, walked, communicated, and the scheme of dark colors on their armor.

Her face shot back with an angered, furious fire when she saw a much taller turian run up to the group, carrying a sniper rifle in his hand. He pointed in multiple directions; each time two soldiers ran to where he pointed. The turian was large and wore heavy armor, and he carried enough weapons to put down whatever he saw fit. What was left in the group was him, another turian, and a shorter, to Melanie's educated guess, asari. Pointing his head towards the area where the Harbors were located, they tightened the grip around their guns and started running towards the forested area.

The Harbors darted from their hiding place and flew through the tree branches, hopped over logs, crunched twigs under their shoes, and frantically followed a non-linear path.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Gunshots roared out from the barrels of the guns of the three who were chasing after the Harbors. The rounds spliced through leaves, hit against the ground, and fired through the trees. In the distance they saw a flashing, flaring red lights and the shouts of sirens from the tram station.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Melanie dug her foot into the ground, threw her children behind her, and opened her Omni-Tool. A bolt of electricity spun out from her device and it targeted the three slavers. All of the raiding soldiers were thrown backwards several yards, their bodies tumbling down a hill. With heavy, labored breathes Melanie stood watching the forest, darting her head to an area every time she heard a noise. Satisfied, Melanie directed her children to stand with a gesture and returned back to running to the tram station.

The Harbors hobbled out to the desolate street. They caught their breath, finding a way to fill their depleted lungs without the smog and ash from the explosions. Looking around, the street was raining down with debris from the blasted building and was devoid of any life. As they walked, the glass from windows cracked under their feet, pieces of the building flew into their hair, and only gunshots from a distance spilled into the air.

A public extranet terminal stood on the side of building and, although the screen was flickering, it was, if barely, operational. Melanie stood in front of the terminal and tried to make repairs with her Omni-Tool.

"Damn it," She muttered, turning her attention to Paxton. "Make it work. Now."

"Y-Yes, Ma'am." Was all Paxton could say in his frightened state.

Alex and Melanie watched as Paxton opened his Omni-Tool, scanned the terminal, and, in just a few moments, found the area that was malfunctioning. He tore off a panel on the backside of the terminal, quickly rearranged the wiring, and used his Omni-Tool to solder the new connections he made and repair other malfunctioning.

The screen appeared in a crisp, clear state free from static.

Melanie furiously typed away at the keyboard, but each time she tried to make a call, the terminal shut itself. After only a second time, she ordered her son to maintain a connection.

"I-I don't know if I—"

Melanie glared at him. "Do it."

When Melanie started to make call to the Alliance, Paxton had his Omni-Tool opened and frantically typed out lines of code as he established a connection with the terminal. The connection was growing weak, but, unlike before, it was still operational. Melanie's call barely went through, but the screen was distorted and was only able to produce static images and sounds.

"This is Secretary-General of the Human Embassy Melanie Harbor, do you copy? Proserpina is under attack!" Melanie shouted at the screen. "I repeat Proserpina is under attack! The colony needs emergency evac! We are under—"

BANG!

The terminal was exploded into small pieces in front of them. As fast as the terminal was destroyed, Melanie grabbed her pistol and spun around while her unarmed children hid behind the torn down terminal. Melanie saw several soldiers, different from the ones she disabled earlier, about to gun her down.

Tapping at her Omni-Tool she fired a burst of electricity at her opponents and their guns and Omni-Tools steamed, sparked, and burned their fingertips. The soldiers threw down their rifles and unclipped their burning Omni-Tools. Unable to fire their kill their target, the largest of the soldiers, a krogan, started charging towards her. The other soldiers, a salarian and a batarian, followed with him.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The krogan, his face now torn apart by gunshot wounds, still hobbled towards Melanie.

BANG!

One last blow to the brain dropped the krogan to the ground, his blood pooling from his head. His comrades, both visibly shaken at his defeat, slowed down as they saw the krogan die.

BANG! BANG!

All the soldiers now fell to the ground with blood draining out from holes in their heads.

"Those," Alex stammered, walking towards her. "Those were perfect headshots, how did you even—"

"Doesn't matter." Melanie curtly said. "We're getting out of this colony. Even if we have to go at it alone" She pointed forwards with her pistol. "Move out."

Melanie led her children down the broken-down street that was littered with debris from buildings about to topple over, parts of cars that had exploded, and bodies of fallen security forces. Somehow through the chaos, Melanie kept herself calm as she moved through the fallen colony that she had created.

Paxton's eyes were wild. Frantically, he kept looking around him and was jumped at every noise he heard. His teeth chattered, making fast, sharp jabs against each other. Heavy, labored breathing came out from his mouth as he felt his body slowly crumble from fear. Smothered across his face was black ash, only his tears cleaned his face.

Alex snatched Paxton's wrist and paced down the street, following Melanie's lead. She too was bathed in dirt and dust; her long hair was drained with sweat and ash, and it was spread across her face. Her face was fixed in a permeant sneer, hisses came out from the corner of her clenched mouth.

"Oh god, oh god, oh my god." Paxton mumbled, his voice full of anxiety and fear. His head still whipped around the street, looking for anything and anyone who could destroy them. "We're not going to…d-die, right?"

"If we were going to die," Melanie said calmly, she didn't raise or lower her voice, hers was still leveled out. It was as if she didn't get shot and Proserpina wasn't falling apart. Her fingers were still knitted around her pistol, she didn't look behind at Paxton but focused her attention on the tram station, which still a distance down the street. "we wouldn't be able to discuss the fact that we're still alive."

From the corner of his eye, in the distance he saw people holding their ground against the purple and black armored soldiers. They fired at them with their guns, but it was futile. Several colonists who were fighting back were shot in their knees, as was the unarmed colonists they were defending. The soldiers came out to them but didn't fire their guns. They dragged the screaming colonists by their collars, gaged them, cuffed their wrists, and hauled them off to a pile of others who met the same unfortunate fate.

The soldiers started tagging the colonists and wrapping collars around their necks.

"Oh god! Oh god!" Paxton gasped. "THEY'RE SLAVERS!" He pulled on Alex's arm and looked at her in her rough face.

"Jesus Christ, Paxton! Can't you ever stay fucking calm!" Alex shouted, causing Paxton to flinch. "They're going to catch us if you—"

"B-BUT THEY'RE GONNA—"

"WHAT!"

Whipping back, Melanie pressed her faces into theirs and pulled back a deep frown across her face.

"If you both don't stay quiet, we will ALL die," Melanie hissed at them. She folded Alex's and Paxton's hands together, keeping the two's fingers intertwined. "Paxton keep your fear to yourself. I do not need to handle paranoia right here, right now. Alexandria, if someone has a problem, you help fix it, you help calm them down. That's what being a public servant—and more importantly—a decent person is." She shook her head and walked forwards. "If you both don't keep quiet, I will be the one who shoots you dead."

Stomping forwards, the Harbors kept themselves pacing down the street. Paxton turned his head and saw the bombed building and immediately knew of what it was—the café. He kept the tears in his eyes glued to his eyelids, his trembling lip was bitten with force, and every gasp became a cold shudder down his spine.

Reaching the end of the street, the tram station's steps were not too far from where the Harbors were. Together, they walked in unison to the tram station and—

BOOM!

The Harbors jumped back as they saw the tram station explode into the sky, firing off pieces of the once beautiful sight into a mix of blackness, fire, and death. The station burned and collapsed upon itself with fallen pieces of its own architecture falling on top of each other. Smoke rose from the burning station, dimming the sky above them, darkening the world.

Ash and debris became an avalanche, it poured out from the station and was becoming a pressing wall the was flowing the air at a face pace, taking everything its path and consuming Proserpina. Melanie grabbed them and they ran into an alleyway, across the street of the forgotten café.

Huddled together, they watched as the ash fly past the entrance of the alleyway. Some flowed into the alley, but nothing much to harm the Harbors. The debris cloud sounded like a stampede of people, but it was only the ashes of the fallen that was stuck within the wind.

After a minute of the wind, they heard footsteps slamming against the ground and rushing towards the alley. Melanie cocked her pistol and yanked her children behind her, having them be shrouded in her shadow. Her foot grinded into the ground, her face fixed into an emotionless stare, and her pistol was locked in her hand. Along her arm, her Omni-Tool glowed with its orange light, and waved around them was a blue, electrical, bubble-like shield.

Paxton watched as a different set of slavers stepped foot in the alley. They didn't fire on sight, they kept their guns pointed forwards at her, and she returned the favor. No one moved, their breaths were only thing Paxton could hear, and they kept staring in the other's face. Until they shot a round at her, yet it deflected off the blue shield, the round dissolving in it. More shots fired, yet she still stood with her arm extended and her body still.

With a steely stare, Melanie's eyes were fixated on the slavers.

Looking up, Paxton saw the shield start to flicker and dissolve; hissing and slowly dissolving as the rapid fire from the slavers stung the shield. There was no escaping. Soon enough, Paxton knew, the walls would be splattered with their blood.

An adrenaline high slowed the world around him, it was as if was existing somewhere time ceased to move at its normal pace. The unrelenting spray of bullets kept sinking into the shield as the large group of slavers only increased their damage. Some of their faces were determined and generally unphased of their shooting, but other slavers' faces contorted into an angry, fiery scream.

Alexandria Harbor could only watch in terror. Though her expression was only of her mouth dropping in greater volumes and her eyelids stretching further and further back, Paxton knew she was feeling more than just shock or apprehension—it was terror; she knew she was going to die.

Melanie Harbor stood with an unyielding, remorseless expression. There was no fear, no sadness—nothing. She gave the slavers nothing. It didn't matter if the shield was vanishing, she still stood with her children huddled behind her. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her gun. When she raised her other arm, Melanie squeezed her hand as an electrical charge grew out from her Omni-Tool.

It was only a brief moment of time, but he could see it all.

During this haze, Paxton Harbor could feel nothing besides a primitive instinct to survive. Paxton followed his mother's behavior and let an electrical charge build until it started frantically sparking. His charge was more erratic, uncontrolled but more…powerful than Melanie's. It started snapping at his skin, causing small, spotted burn marks on his hand and arm. But he still kept going.

Still in his adrenaline rush, Paxton saw the shielding flickering and fading more intensively than before. He knew it would be moments before they were dead. Paxton leapt forward and raced to his mother, raising his Omni-Tool towards her own.

Her calm demeanor broke when she lashed her head back to his. For the first time in his life he witnessed an emotion that had never come across her face; fear. She whispered only word: "Paxton…"

Unfocused, their fingers slid off their Omni-Tools and combined with each other's.

CRACK! HISS!

An electrical shockwave raced down the alley, causing the sky around them glow with flashing, sparking blue lights. The slavers were shocked with the current, it damaged their armor and found its way under their skin. They shrieked and plummeted to the ground, blood pooling out from their helmets.

The Harbors were slammed against the alley's back wall, their bodies flown backwards like ragdolls. They lay on the ground unmoving, their eyelids folded over and hands resting against the ground. Cuts formed along their bodies and drops of red blood painted against the ground like an abstract painting.

Paxton cracked opened his blurred vision, again, and saw Alex and Melanie beside him. They were both unawake and unmoving, though their chests raised with breathes. Paxton felt a heaviness over him, his exhaustion pulled him down and tied him to the ground. There was a ringing in his ears, it was like windchimes without the beauty of their sound flowing in the air. He heard echoes from a distance, the sound of slow footsteps coming close to them.

As the sound of the steps filled his mind, he tried to push himself upright. His arms wobbled, shaking as he tried to remain upwards. Looking at the pistol besides Melanie, he tried to reach out and take it. When he pressed a knee forwards, it ached and sent pain up his leg and through his body. Wincing, his arm burnt with the pain.

A foot slammed Paxton's back into the ground, pressing down into him and leaving him unable to move. Trying to move was useless, between his own exhaustion and the heavy weight of whomever was on him, Paxton couldn't move even if he wanted to. The shadow from the turian slaver was darkened like a silhouette, he stood far above Paxton, inching way over seven feet. A sniper rifle was holstered on his back—the leader, Melanie's shooter.

Paxton whimpered when his eyes met with the helmet of the slaver, he curled his hands together and cried to himself. His breathe was frantic again and the urge to escape grew inside his body. The slaver's foot was taken off Paxton's back, then he crouched down to Paxton and stared at him through his helmet.

Clicking his helmet off, he threw it to the side and pressed his face down to Paxton. It was blank, devoid of any emotion as he stared into the increasingly panicked human's face. His face was darkened and only the glow of his purple eyes shown, along with a scar that stretched down the side of the turian's face.

The slaver took out a long, serrated knife and ticked it with his finger. Slowly, he tapped the edge of the knife and twirled it between his finger. Suddenly, he clamped it down next to Paxton's face. The human merely whimpered in response, frantically eyeing himself in the blade's reflection. When the slaver positioned the knife sideways, he caught a better glimpse at his scarred face. He slipped the knife into Paxton's boot.

He then took Melanie's pistol and held in his hand, twisting it slowly and staring at every detail of it, making sure it was exact. He chuckled under his breath as he pointed to the pistol to the ground. The slaver dragged a finger down Melanie's face, studying her features with a cold, unflinching look. For a moment he just looked at her…staring.

"I say that's a good trade." The slaver said, turning back to Paxton and looking at the pistol in his hand. His voice was gruff, but he sounded exact; he was clear with his words and his voice rang with a powerful, dictatorial confidence. He patted Paxton's shoulder, jolting the human's frail body. "Now, I wish that we could talk all day and catch up, kid, but I've got places to be. Don't take this as me saying goodbye; we'll meet again soon."

The slaver stood back up and he started to slowly pace down the alley, where the asari and the other turian stood waiting. He turned half his body towards the beat-down human. Staring into him, looking beyond Paxton's eyes. But he wasn't searching for anything with his gaze, no, he already took what he wanted.

"I will say this," His voice terrified Paxton; it sent a cold flash across his body, making his heart pump when he looked at the slaver in the distance. "It's been nice seeing you again, Paxton Harbor."