"Other little girls wanted to be princesses. I wanted to be an N7 Operative." - Captain Jane Catherine Shepard

Domicile 2209, Celice Park Tower, Ringside District, Block 0220 (Skyward), Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 16, 2183

Author's Note: There will be a… pretty damn accurate description of a PTSD moment with Sam's portion. It is based off of one of my own.

And I've essentially completed NaNoWriMo in 7 days, doing +7,000 words a day for a week. Halfway to target of 100k words in a month.

And happy N7 Day! 10 years of Killing the Xeno! (Jersey… that's Warhammer 40K.) Check out the disclaimer. So totally stole that from a shirt on ThinkGeekDotCom.

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder woke up in the bed of Professor Irissa T'vara, her eyes slowly opening up to see the fresco of Ancient Thessia on the ceiling, the lights of the domicile slowly glowing warmer and brighter for the coming day as the young Human female enjoyed the pleasant feel of the warming field of the bed as she looked to her side to see Irissa laying there, slowly coming to wakefulness herself as cyan eyes opened to look at her and her teal lips widened into a smile. Sara was sure she had been dreaming, but the sight of the Asarikin Matriarch laying beside her erased all thoughts of possible dreams or nightmares that she might have had concerning the past week.

"G'morning." The young Human female said, her voice groggy with sleep as she slid herself closer to her bedmate, feeling Irissa's arms slipping around her, holding her closely as Sara felt the Protheantologists' body pressing into her from behind as they cuddled, a blue hand sliding under her head to encompass her while the other slid over her flank and down the rigid muscles of her abdomen, making the Corpsman shiver slightly from the sensation of that hand against her skin. An Asari's hand wasn't like a Human's hand; the texture of their skin was different, finely scaled where it was almost like the skin of a snake, though smoother. The feel of someone having laid by her side as she slept was one that she wasn't use to, and yet the sensation was one that she found endearing, having shared a bed with someone she cared for, someone she trusted with more than just her body. Is… is this what being married is like? She wished she could have asked her Mom about such things, though Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder wouldn't have been too keen about seeing her little girl with an alien. Sara remembered well what had driven both herself and Detective Garrus Vakarian apart, mutually agreed upon due to both sets of family members; Garrus' family had been just as thrilled as her father had been, though… Sara actually wondered it Hespera Vakarian had actually been disapproving of her son dating and mating with a Human as Garrus' sire and sister Solona had been. She shook off the memory of that disaster, enjoying the moment. I could get use to this, Sara thought to herself with a smile as she snuggled into Irissa's embrace, turning her head so the Asari could kiss her lips, the tingling sensation of their Biotics interacting together thrilling her.

"Any plans for breaking fast?" Sara asked as she felt her stomach growl, feeling a little amused at the sight of the Protheantologists' face looking at her growling belly, almost alarmed by the sound it was making. "Going out, or staying in?"

"If we stay in, you might see me as a meal." The Professor replied wryly, her turquoise lips smiling lopsided.

"That was last night, honey. And I don't remember you complaining." That had her mate smile, obviously remembering the previous night. "Either works for me, as long as there is coffee involved."

Breakfast ended up at a local Asari-oriented bistro where Sara ordered a bowl of Thessian-imported oats and nuts rolled into sweetened syrup and baked into cluster crumbles, with sweetcream poured into the bowl to make a cereal-like breakfast with the addition of golash yogurt berries to top it off. It was somewhat late in the Light Cycle on the Cit, so the bistro was fairly packed with Asarikin and their mates and families, Sara having seen Matrons with Younglings in tow, or gaggle of Maidens having breakfast together. There were a few non-Thessians at the open-air restaurant that Ryder spied while waiting at the table that she and Irissa shared, a Salarian here, a Hanar there, and surprisingly a suited Quarian male. That made Sara recall that Irissa's sire was a Quarian female, a musician. She had been born on Rannoch, a century or so after their discovery. Sara wondered if Irissa had been Firstborn or not on Rannoch, or the first Quarian-born Thessian. The Professor had lived on Rannoch for the first five decades of her life before her sire passed away from old age, Irissa and her mother moving to Thessia shortly afterwards. When Irissa had turned seventy-five, she joined the Thessian Republican Guard as a Sister Hospitallar, and then had gone to the University of Serrice after a quarter-decade of service to her species to become a Protheantologist. During one of her expeditions a few centuries later, she lost her Homeworld when the Geth overthrew and overtook the planet of her birth. Much like the Quarians, she would never be able to return home.

Their conversation remained light and bantering, mostly about what Professor T'vara had been doing since Therum, more than just Chirper updates and EN-mails that she and Sara sent nightly or near enough depending on missions. The University of Serrice was dealing with the fallout of the attack on Therum by the Geth, though thankfully the fact that the entirety of both the Serrice Team and the Oxford Team came out without a casualty softened the blow of the loss of Dig Site Alpha and the assistance of the Systems Alliance Government thanks to the full-swing efforts of the SA Parliament shoring up the Fleets and Marines to protect the Human colonies and not scientific endeavors. Irissa was dealing that that very backlash, the backroom politics of blame and backpedaling making her profession and occupation difficult. Expeditions required funding to operate, and funding wouldn't come if there wasn't any planned expeditions. Plus the so-called 'failure' of Dig Site Alpha on Therum was having investors backpedaling. Irissa was trying to alleviate fears and getting financial support to continue research on the few things they were able to excavate from Therum before the attack on June Fifteenth, not to mention the data, reports, scans, and transfers that were made. Basically, the Asari Professor was having to make promises with scraps and leftovers. Sara didn't envy her or her position.

"Hey," Sara reached over to place her hand on the Matriarch's, knowing that she herself wasn't the only one facing difficulty and adversity, "I believe in you, honey. You're passionate about your work, and that's one of your best selling points. You aren't out there trying to make a Credit or splash your name all over the news. You're a believer, and it shows. That makes people believe in you. Don't be afraid to show them a little of that belief and adventurous spirit. Sure you might not win them all, but get a few on board, and others will slide off that fence and towards your direction. You show them what you have been able to procure in a short period of time, let them know that the Dig Site is closed off for only a period of time, and let them know of some of the things you were working on and hoped to achieve. Doctor T'soni did discover that security system that helped protect the evacuation route from the Geth. That alone would interest Turians and Salarians. Especially in a time of war."

"And who am I to argue with an Alumni of the Academy?" The Protheantologist said with a smile, a sparkle in her eye. "It is a plan that I have been working on, but you are right about one thing; it is my voice that they will listen to, not necessarily what it is I have to say." Her teal hand gripped Sara's, and the young Human woman felt… good about this. She had gone to Irissa because she needed the Asari's help after her time on Feros, the trauma she had suffered at the grips of the Thoi'han. But she was contributing too, able to help out the Asari that she was in love with with her passion and profession. Being there for one another… it meant something to both of them, and for that Sara felt a little of that guilt and grief return. So many lives had been lost on Feros, hopes and dreams ended. Yet… it had been ExoGeni that had created the situation, that had began the dialog and scenario that led to the Thoi'han's overrunning of Hadley's Hope. She had been as much a victim as those colonists and those Marines, just like Ash, Sam, Raeka, and James. She couldn't blame her friends for what happened; they weren't responsible. Just like Irissa wasn't to blame for what happened at Dig Site Alpha; that had been the Geth's doing, orchestrated somehow by Saren Arterius.

The pain was there still, but Sara looked to the Asari she loved and squeezed her teal-colored hand.

"I think I'm going to be okay." The Corpsman said, a few small tears escaping, but smiling all the same. "Won't be easy, but I think I'll get there."

"Good, I am glad, dear one." Irissa replied, lifting Sara's hand to give her knuckles a chaste kiss. "Because I intend to help you get there."

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams started her day in a more unusual fashion than normal. First, she didn't wake up in a Colonial Army barracks or a Navy ship. She didn't even rent a hotel room for Liberty, Shore Leave, or Block Leave. Instead, she had a 'sleepover'… at Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni's 'modest' timeshare located in the Haspith District of the Lower Presidium Ring. 'Modest' meant that it was approximately the size of a small house on a space station, shared by several sapients that hashed out whomever would be there with the landlord/timeshare owner. It was obviously meant to be a location that others could use whenever visiting the Cit for a week or two without being extorted by Credit-stealing Cit business hotels or forced to rent an apartment just for a couple of weeks. Timeshares, Ash was learning, meant one only had to pay a percentage of the rent and upkeep, spread evenly with other timeshare renters while the landlord/owner raked in the Credits for a place to make profits while avoiding Cit Property Taxes.

The place was nicer than anything Ash had ever lived in. It was also very obviously meant for Thessians.

First, Williams woke up in a bed that had not one but two other occupants; Liara on one side, and Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden on the other. The three of them had spent the evening going to a comedy club that was a little more family-oriented, a chattering Salarian who was actually pretty damn funny and really good with voice impersonations acting out what Ash assumed to be a satirical episode of some of the wealthier, more prominent members of galactic society and their antics. There had been this one bit about Aish Ashland, the billionaire debutante and oldest daughter of Howard Ashland of Eldfell-Ashland Energy Corporation, that Ash had completely gotten, the trashy socialite and sometimes Fornax Star usually making a damn fool of herself. Evidently Aish had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction at some social outing that had her losing her entire dress (not that anyone was actually mystified about how she looked in the buff with all her uploaded vids and sex tapes, not to mention her full-frontals on Fornax), but this one evidently occurred stepping on, and tripping over, her own dress while shitfaced drunk. Ash would have actually paid money to have seen that particular moment, but the Salarian comedian actually did a pretty damn good reenactment (and sounded just like a Human girl when he shrieked with the act). The Act had devolved into (of all things) a Turian male trying to do stand-up, the Palavenian being so bad that people actually applauded when he was done. His jokes were so terrible that Williams thought a random person on a Cit street could have done better. Still, Newt thought he was hysterical (she might have been the only one) as Night Cycle came to the Cit and Liara shyly asked Ash and Newt to accompany her to her timeshare.

The Colonial Soldier hadn't done much more than kiss Liara goodnight, but if Newt hadn't been there snuggling them…

Williams' normal morning routine usually started off with coffee, clean PT clothes, working out, a shower, and then breakfast. Technically, she was on vacation, so Ash was going to be a bit of a lazybones and forgo working out for the day as she scoured the timeshares' galley for breakfast and coffee before Liara and Newt could get up. The Soldier got out of bed quietly, stretching her arms up as she looked at her civilian clothes a little distastefully; she wasn't about to do a walk of shame when there was no real bedroom fun involved. Ash went with the tanktop she wore last night and her blue jeans over her underwear, deciding to forgo her bra for some comfort before she stepped out of the bedroom and into the main portion of the timeshare. She had the briefest of thoughts of trying to cook breakfast herself (the thought really warming her up) until she saw that the galleys' pantry was filled with Thessian-oriented food… described in Thessian logogrammatics which she couldn't read at all, much less knew any Asari recipes for Asari food. Well, at least there was coffee. Thank God the Asari were ga-ga over coffee. She made a pot of Starbucks' House Blend (of course!) while looking up menus of local take-out-and-delivery places that would serve breakfast foods, and winced at the prices. Forgot that practically all the food on the Cit is imported and taxed, the colony-born woman looked at some of the menus on the CitNet, and then back at the pantry. She could either create breakfast surprise, or go broke ordering breakfast.

Breakfast surprise, it is.

This could be fun, Ash thought with a smile as she began pulling out ingredients.

Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni woke up to the pleasant smells of something been cook.

The Asarikin Maiden woke up feeling rested and pleasant, having gone to sleep with the knowledge that she would be sharing her bed with another sapient that was not a family member for the first time in her short life. It had been an experience that had her nervous at first, knowing that Ashley was attracted to her, but the Asarikin a little… unsure if a Human female would find her pleasing or not. She knew in her hearts she was worrying too much, but she had never… been this intimate with another before. Having Newt present had allayed some of those worries, knowing that the Human female would not be so intimate with her in the presence of a child. Liara worried that she did not know what to do, having no experience or any real idea what Human 'women' liked amongst their own kind and gender. Still, they had kissed several times, the experience both pleasing and invigorating, and having Ashley's strong arms around her had… certainly caused an effect within her that made her wish for more.

The smells of something cooking roused her from her sleepfulness as Liara briefly wondered who was cooking.

Newt was still in bed, fast asleep, the blankets curled around her youthful body as the young Human girl somehow took over a vast portion of the bed, yet Ashley was not around.

Is… Ashley cooking?

The Protheantologist accessed her timeshare wardrobe with a palmprint on the rotating closet, the device shuffling to access her personal wardrobe before the doors opened to reveal some Cit-appropriate attire and some outing-wear. She selected a morning robe made of Thessian silk and threw it over her teal-colored shoulders before tying it over her waist to cover her bedwear (what Ashley called a 'nightie') before checking in on Newt and giving her a light kiss on the Younglings' forehead just below her sun corral-colored (what Humans called 'dirty blonde'?) haircrest. With that, the Doctor exited the bedroom, keeping the door slid open as she went into the living area that connected to the small culinary where the Asari spied the Human female hard at work in preparation for breaking fast. What she saw surprised her, seeing Ashely trying to… cook gosha berries and julana nuts in some sort of oil.

"Morning!" The Human said with a smile as she used the pan on the inductive stove to toss the cooking food in some sort of vertical rotation manner… oh, Humans called it 'flipping'! Liara had seen the Navy Culinary Specialists cooking food before, especially in the making of 'eggs' (which they most certainly did not make eggs! They cracked them open and cooked the contents much to the initial horror of Zevin Raeka, crying out in terror at the thought of turning taddis into food!) and 'pancakes' (which was some sort of powdered substance added with cream and more eggs to turn into some sort of soft flat bread). Human cooking perplexed Liara… but then again she herself had never had to make an actual meal for anyone other than herself. Thessian cuisine was one of the most venerated highlights of the Asari culture, their haute culina celebrated galaxy-wide as the best and most civilized of food preparations, reputedly turning any dish from any species into a work of art and taste. Human cooking? They 'fried' everything! And if they weren't frying it, they were barbecuing it!

Humans had some rather… odd ideas about making food. At least their seafood was decent enough. Liara did enjoy boiled lobster and several different kinds of cooked shrimp, especially popcorn shrimp (yet another fried food!).

"Are you cooking for breaking fast?" The Maiden asked, her voice a little at wonder. When she had lived with the Matriarch, there had been house servants to do such things, those trained by the maître d'manse to serve the members of Clan T'soni and those under their auspices. There had been Maidens older than she who were of the lower economic strata who were employed by the House T'soni maître d' to take care of such matters, such as cooking, cleaning, maintenance, even shopping. Liara had cooked before, but only simple dishes, and mostly for her Grammercy-oriented Culinary Class where she had made very burnt crepes once. To see Ashley, a Human, using Thessian-related ingredients and attempting… what was that Human term? Oh yes, 'winging' it, Liara remembered. It amused her, and also touched her deeply. Ashley was not afraid to try something new despite having no idea what she was using, making do with her own knowledge to 'make shit up' (Humans and their Goddess-awful foul language!).

"Yep." The Human replied as Liara approached the counter, looking at the titanium non-stick skillet upon the inductive stove, seeing the gosha berries and chopped julana nuts frying in batter, being fried to a golden brown. "I'm use to cooking for my sisters back home when I lived with my parents, and I'm no stranger with making do with whatever out in the field back in the Army. Once turned a gasbag into a mean grilled steak."

"What… is a gasbag?" The Doctor asked as she took to a stool, propping her head on her hand as she rested her elbow on the counter, a smile spreading on her face as she listened. She did love listening to Ashley's stories about her time in the 'Army'.

"Ugh, these smelly floating creatures back on Eden Prime. Indigenous herbivores that created methane and stored it in a back pouch that expanded and let them float from location to location to eat leaves on trees. Let me tell you something," the female spoke as she took a flat utensil and scraped some of the food she was cooking and 'flipped' it again, "being around a methane-producing creature? They smelled vile. One tried getting into our rations so I put it down, and decided to barbecue it. Might have smelled foul alive, but they turn out to be pretty tasty once you cook the methane out of them. Just make sure you pop 'em before you cook 'em. Buddy of mine accidentally singed his own eyebrows making that mistake." That had the Asari giggle a little, trying to imagine a Human without their furry eye protection. Her time on the SSV Normandy had certainly been an enlightening experience with the rather charmingly rustic race. True, some of their ways and customs were bizarre, sometimes even backwards! But they had their strengths and their charms, and certainly her time amongst them had proved much of what the galaxy had said of the Sons and Daughters of Terra to be rather incorrect. Each species had its quirks and flaws; no one was immune to that. But Liara saw something in the Human on the Normandy, something that she felt made them worthy of better reconsideration.

"Well! Morning, sleepyhead!"

Liara turned to see Newt walking into the living area, a little apprehensive in a new location, but that was understandable for anyone, especially for a Youngling, and most especially for a Youngling who had gone through an ordeal such as she had. Her haircrest was a frightful mess, tufts sticking out and looking… wrinkled and disarrayed. The Protheantologist had seen that effect before with Human females upon waking up, having to 'brush their hair'. The Youngling looked at the both of them with a bleary face as she rubbed at her eyes, rubbing 'the sleep' out of them.

"We got breakfast cooking, and we got some sort of juice if you're feeling adventurous." Ashley told the child, who took a stool at the counter next to Liara, looking a little grumpy. Well, they had been out late last evening. It was understandable. She herself remembered not being much of a First Light Youngling, either.

"The yellow one is Parintha Tea. It is sweet and light." Liara added helpfully, having an idea of what might be in stock thanks to the owners of the timeshare. Thankfully, no one would be using the residence for the week during this time of year. The political season had yet to warm up for the InnerCit Block Assembly for Block Governors and Aldermans, the election season coming up in the next couple of months. Of course, with the Geth War, it might make the upcoming campaign… interesting. As far as Liara was aware, there was not a Human Block Governor or Alderman (something she had heard from Sara Ryder on the Normandy when they talked about Cit politics on their way to the Cit last time), something that Humanity addressed as disappointing. Some of those Blocks had been held by Clans and businesses for decades or longer… yet some of those Blocks were heavily populated by Humans, too.

"Well, breakfast is done, and it's a surprise." Ashley wiggled her furry eyebrows as Newt giggled a little as the Colonial Soldier began serving the food onto plates straight from the skillet before adding utensils to the plates and handing them over onto the counter. "Bon appetite."

"Bahn… appa-teet?" Newt asked curiously.

"It is… French?" Liara replied, looking to Williams who nodded. "I believe it means 'good eating'." Together they began to eat the culinary surprise that Ashley had made, and Liara was pleased to find that the fried-gosha-and-chopped-julana mixture with cream turned out to be quite satisfying. Newt was a mixture of eating and talking, excited about all the things she had seen about on their jaunt on the Cit, her child-like enthusiasm infectious as Ashley and Liara listened on to bubbling joy with smiles, and it occurred to the Maiden something that had not before.

This was the first family moment she had shared in at least twenty-five years, but much closer to fifty when she last felt this… effervescent.

"Everything okay, babe?" Ashley asked, spying the look on her face, and Liara just gave her a smile.

"Perfect, actually." The Protheantologist replied as she looked to the Human females that she shared the morning with, and her hearts went aflutter.

"Everything is perfect, Ashley."

Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins woke up alone with an aching heart, an anvil's worth of grief on her shoulders, and a really massive hangover.

The Level Two Council Agent groaned as her head pounded and throbbed, every second feeling like someone was battering her too-hot temples with a pair of mallets, every heartbeat bringing a thump of pain as she tried to get up or roll over, feeling like absolute dog shit. Her joints ached, her body hurt like hell, and her mouth tasted somewhere in between an ashtray and vomit. She coughed hard, making her head explode in pain as she tried to get out of whatever bed she happened to be in, stumbling out of the piece of furniture on bare feet, feeling the cool metal floor as she tried to find something…

Need a bucket, now!

She barely made it to a nearby waste receptacle when hot lava churned her stomach and erupted up her throat and out her mouth, vomiting hard enough that she swore she must have been stabbed in both sides. Another turning of the stomach and Sam was regurgitating whatever was in her stomach, her throat burning and her mouth filled with vile fluids as she spat out the remnants, her ribs hurting like hell. She barely noticed that someone had taken to her side, holding her hair up and back from her face as Collins spat again, feeling the burn of tears from her eyes from her act of vomiting, her flanks hurting bad and her throat burning. God, I feel like absolute dog shit, Sam thought weakly as the room did a nice lazy tilt on her, her throbbing temples protesting any movement as she rested her too-heavy head on her arm as she hugged the waste receptacle, seeing a face looming beside her as she looked at it blearingly.

"D-Doc?" Sam asked, seeing the youthful face of Seaman Monica Negulesco settling beside her. "What 're you doin' here?" Ugh, her mouth still tasted like bile and her lips were kind of numb. Plus, thinking hurt.

"Taking care of you, Marse." The young woman replied as if it were the most natural response in the world. Sam tried to blink and figure out just where the hell she was, and it occurred to her that she was in the Normandy's MedBay. She had slept on one of the medical beds and puked in a bucket like she was some Jarhead on a bender. You… fucking idiot… Sam chided herself, her thoughts heavy and painful with her hangover. Doc… is suppose to be on Liberty… and she's taking care of you! The guilt and the grief caught up to her along with the personal admonishment as she tried to close her eyes as tears as hot as a sun began to leak out of her burning eyes, sobbing as her hangover battered her poor abused brain. She's a kid… who did something extraordinary! You're a fuck-up who's gotten people killed, who has nobody and nothing left! And she's taking care of you! The memories of what happened on Feros tried to push their way through the pounding in her temples and the vice-like grip on her brain, the sight of all those strange-looking creatures oozing away, remembering placid faces laying still as they were vomited upon with white fluids, Chad… No, oh God, nonono don't remember! Collins turned her head to vomit one more time as she began to heave, her empty stomach twisting upon itself as it felt like it was collapsing upon itself painfully, Sam trying to puke up nothing, the dry heaves painful to feel. Please make it stop, Sam begged and pleaded as she stuck her head into the waste receptacle to try to throw up the memories and hangover, but nothing came out.

"P-please…" Sam spoke through numb lips, hot tears, and a broken heart;

"…please let me die." She begged.

"Nope." Collins squawked as she felt her head being lifted up, a hand offering her a pair of pills big enough to choke a Krogan to death. "Take these." Sam grumbled as she bleared at Doc Nugee, fumbled grabbing the pills, finally got them and put them in her mouth. Magically a cup of water came and the Marshal took that too, gulping the pills and the sour taste of bile in one go as she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and saw that it hadn't been Doc to give her the cup, but Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, the buff Latina Marine standing just in front of her with dark eyes and an expressionless face. "Give those about five minutes and you'll be feeling a lot better, Marse. Take the worse out of that hangover of yours."

"D-don' give… a shit 'bout the hangover." The brunette replied as she knelt on the floor, the puke-filled bucket in front of her holding her attention. "D'serve worse th'n this. 'Lot worse." Despite the pounding headache and her aching brain, the memories came back. Nonono, don't go back there, please, Sam begged, not wanting to remember dragging Marines from the Hadley's Hope Bar and Grill to be infected, to pulling them out in the open so they could be consu… NO! Holding Chad as he leaked away, his consumed body decaying before her very eyes and in her arms as she begged, begged for him to come back, her last remaining friend… NONONO!

Sam cried. She cried hard, and she cried long.

The sobs escaped her as they wracked her body as she bawled, feeling two sets of arms holding her, pulling away from the bucked as the arms knelt beside her, holding onto her tight as she saw swept away by the grief and the pain. There's nothing left but the pain, she cried, her words distorted by her sobs and tears as spittle ran down her chin and her cheeks were awashed by tears. The team that she had when becoming a Federal Marshal and a Clandestine SPECTRE were now all gone; she was the last one left. All dead, they're all dead but me, she screamed, the throbbing heat of her brain growing worse as someone pressed a cool washcloth to her head, the slightest respite to agony. She had fought for Humanity and the galaxy alongside the finest, men and women she believed in, who had her back while she had theirs. I buried them, I've buried them all, she whimpered as she was held, barely noticing the two presences that held her as she broke apart, the weight in her chest excruciating, crushing her heart. It was impossible to breath as she struggled to pull air into her lungs, her ribs crushing the very life out of her as ice water filled her veins and sweat exploded her pours. Bury me, bury me with them, please, she begged with every gram of her soul as she shivered violently. Lights flashed before her very eyes as the world went sideways and the roar of an oceanless surf crashed to her ears. Lord, she couldn't catch her breath as panic seized her, absolute terror. It was there; the smell, the sounds, the violence, the grief, the sound of gunfire and the scent of blood, the musk of ancient dust and the sweat of fear. I want my friends back, I want my husband back, she pleaded as her heart absolutely pounded inside her oh so fragile chest, swelling as if it were going to explode as she struggled to breath. She drew breath through a choking throat and numbed lips as she fell to pieces, held together by hands, clenching on so tightly that she felt her knuckles crack and her hands ache.

Breath, Sam. Breath.

She felt dizzy and nauseated, feeling as if she were going to defecate herself right at that very moment, her bowels feeling like jello and her belly clenching hard. She tried to control it, tried not to drown, losing focus and color as the world grew dark and everything swayed. She sweated and froze in alternates as she struggled to breath as colors exploded everywhere, everything going negative as she felt like someone punched her in the gut.

Breath in…

She struggled to take in a breath, trying to gasp, trying to fill her empty lungs, so full of nothing.

Breath out.

Lord she was dying! Dying! DYING! Breath in… Sam clutched on as she wished she could be swept away, begging the hands to let her go and cast her away as she gasped for air as the world exploded into a single point of light, silence deafening her as everything went surreal; seconds like syrup, unable stand or fall. …and breath out. Spittle and moans escaped trembling lips and God, oh God she wanted to die, it hurt so fucking bad! Her knees ceased to exist as the strings were cut as reality jumped up to smack her in its cruel embrace as strong hands held her, kept her from flying apart. The sound of a wounded animal came to her and she realized it was her, her own voice as she held onto those pillars of strength that held her, embraced her, kept her from drowning in air. Sam held on, grasping at anything while begging to drown. Her heart shuttered as it squeezed, her lungs bursting empty, everything inside forced up and down, leaving nothing in the middle. She was being torn apart.

"I failed them." Sam whispered through raw lips and hoarse vocal chords, having screamed her agony and rage to the galaxy, her head so heavy, her soul so empty, that vice-like grip in her chest getting tighter. "They're all dead. I failed them." She could see them, the faces of seven men and women from a variety of species; her responsibility. Chad Gaultier, her first partner, a seemingly invincible Deputy that survived Therum and dozens of actions, ever the stoic protector. Nysiana Velyanis, the Turian female who so desperately wanted to be a cop, to prove herself despite the pariah-like gloom of being from a barefaced family of Separatists. Mark Teller, a brick of a man that was as tall and as wide as a Turian himself, yet the heart of a teddy bear, always bringing candy for children. Daepron Norban, a Salarian male from C-SEC's Investigation and Evidence Bureau with a mind that loved puzzles and clues, and a mouth that loved getting into debates. Ameki Jovis, the Drell female from the Illuminated Primacy that was a data-trawler and hacktivist, quick to anger and quicker to protect. Yala D'mora, the C-SEC Customs Agent that had gotten tired of the daily grind, the youthful Maiden with a zest for life and adventure.

And her dear, dear Nihlus. Friend, partner, confident, lover, husband… with her every step of the way, striving to be better not only for his own kind, but her own, too.

"Why me?" Sam begged, cradled as she sobbed. "Why not any of them?" Chad, that incredible force of will that never faltered. Nessie who so wanted to show that being barefaced didn't mean being a coward. Mark, whose golden heart was perfect for being a father. Daepron forever seeking challenges of intellectual skill, the practical joker of the group. Ameki who supported her mother and younger sister back on Kahje. Yala cut down before she had lived to see a century, the one who should have outlived them all. Nihlus, who had grown so much, had changed his views on a species he originally detested, whom he had given Humanity his all. What was she compared to them? Just a cop, good with a gun and numbers. They had fallen, lost their lives on their toughest mission; the moon of Aratoht, Torfan. Chad had been shot so many times it was a wonder he had survived. Nessie had died in her arms, gurgling her own blood while the Turian apologized to her for dying, as if she had done something wrong. Mark had been blown up when the slavers started arming slaves with suicide vests, giving his life to save a Batarian cub. Daepron had been shot destroying the Command and Control Net that armed the slaves' control collars, died freeing slaves. Yala had lost her life taking on no less than three Special Intervention Unit Operatives, sent to stop them but losing their lives to an underpowered Asari cop. Nihlus had damn near lost his life as well after blowing through most of the state militia, gunning them down with his favorite shotgun, taking on the encampments' Commanding Officer and ripping his throat out with his talons. Sam had been shot three times, bleeding out from a round in her thigh as she protected Nihlus' back, fearing that the rest of her team was dead and determining not one fucking more as she chose to fight instead of dressing her wounds. It had been Chad that had saved her life on Torfan, having eaten six round himself and yet still able to carry her to a better location in which to fight from. She should have died on Torfan, just like she should have died on Therum during the shootout with Frontier Marshal Bart Weathers, Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamsters' President Nico Dekker, and their goons.

I should be with them, I should be dead.

Sam blinked away the burning tears, wiped at the spittle that flecked her chin, feeling the vice on her heart loosen slowly. It took her a few moments to realize that she was practically laying in someone's lap, looking up to see Doc Nugee loom over her, the Corpsman's arms around her. Collins looked away, ashamed of herself for the things she had said, for having fallen apart like that. She's just a Goddamn kid, and you're a grown woman, a Marshal! You should be looking out for her, taking care of her, not the other way around! Sam wanted to crawl in a corner and bury her head somewhere, but Doc won't let her, those arms holding onto her. Saving her life, saving her from herself.

"Y'know, my dad's a cop, too."

Sam looked to Monica, who was sitting on the ground while Sam half-laid on her, and half-sprawled out in the MedBay. She noted that Corporal Jeanette Vasquez was grabbing something from the dispensary. The Marine came back with another cup of water, which Collins took gratefully, her throat raw and her head a mixture of heat and pounding. She drank a little bit to cut through the desert of her throat, cool relief pouring into her throat. It wasn't better, per se, but it was a start.

"Where at?" Sam croaked. Funny enough, people saw a cop or a Marshal, and they felt the need to admit that they had some relative that was a cop somewhere. Most didn't like cops until they found themselves under possible scrutiny, and then magically someone remembered they had some distant cousin out there somewhere with a badge.

"Illyeria Metro." Doc smiled, but there wasn't any real warmth to it. That had Sam pause, her senses taking that in. Illyeria Metro was the largest police force in the Human colonies, and the city itself ranked as high-tier amongst Earth cities; no small feat for a colonial capital. Illyeria was the largest colonial city, Humanity's pride-and-joy amongst the stars. Nearly a million people called Illyeria and its surrounding towns and lands home, the nearly nine million people who lived upon Elysium enjoying one of the few near-Earth planets quite efficiently. It wasn't surprising to run into a colony kid from Elysium, and Doc was young enough to actually have been born on the planet after being founded in 2160.

"Chief saved my father's life that day. Captain saved my brother and sister, too."

Sam found herself looking at the little Corpsman.

"My dad had been shuttling people to buildings and strong points when the scum came." Monica said, sitting with her back to the MedBay wall, looking forward, but at nothing. "I was a kid at the time, and thankfully my Elementary School wasn't one of the parts that those animals came for. But my older brother and sister went to Illyeria High School, the same one that Captain Shepard took a stand in and funneled slavers into a hallway to protect thousand of students. They… they would have been captured and enslaved if not for her." The young woman wiped at a tear, forcing back that old fear, that old grief, Collins saw. "My dad was shot saving people, pulling them away from landing zones and where those people were trying to collect them with their speeder bikes and capture nets. My dad… told me how afraid he was that day, that he knew he was going to die." Doc turned her head to look at the Marshal with hazel eyes. "But he went and saved people, fought back. He was shot so some… some fucking slaver could have some Credits and feel good about himself, like that kind of thing is right or proper. He was lying on the street with a round in his chest, one of his lungs nicked as he bled on the streets, still fighting back as best he could. I could have lost my family that day.

"But I didn't."

Sam looked at Jeanette silently, the Latina looking right back at her, neither saying a word.

"G-God, I remember when my dad's partner picked me up like… five hours later." Nugee wiped away another tear. "I had been in school at the time, and when the Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarms went off, they put my school on lockdown. Thousands of kids stuffed into a Gym during an attack; imagine how we felt." Sam felt a little sick to her stomach at the thought, but there was really no better option than to do what Monica had just described. But she never thought about how the kids in those schools had felt, stuck in some room, panic and fear while trapped for their own safety. "When… when the lockdown was lifted, the school had called parents and relatives to pick us up, everything was so chaotic. I remember… kids who didn't have anyone else anymore, having lost one or two parents during the Assault, either killed or captured. When Uncle Kyle," ah, her dad's partner, "picked me up… I…" Nugee's eyes slammed shut hard, obviously reliving that day almost eight years ago. "I remember his first words to me when he picked me up and held me.

"An angel had saved my father's life. Literally."

Collins slipped her hand into Monica's, and the young woman squeezed it. Hard.

"I remember how hard I cried that night," Doc continued, "how close I came to losing everything. Uncle Kyle took care of us that night while my dad stayed in an outpatient clinic to recover, looking after his partners' three kids. Kyle McLoughlin stayed with us for a week, holding us together after those first days when everything really came to light and we were left with the pieces. So many had died, so many had been taken, buildings damaged and the city was in turmoil. There were riots and civil unrest, just… mobs of people who were angry, afraid, and in pain seeking some sort of outlet. We had survived something terrible and I remember how absolutely stupefied I was to hear about lootings and shootings, like… how did that help? We were living in a time of emergency and grief, and there were packs of idiots who only thought about themselves while people like my father and Uncle Kyle were ready to lay down their lives to save those very people. It took about a week or two for things to calm down and for what remained of the Illyeria Metro Police Department and the Systems Alliance Marshals to restore order, instituting martial law and enforcing curfews while Systems Alliance Marines manned check points and enforced civil law. In some ways that was even scarier, but Uncle Kyle and my dad told me that our leaders were having to do what was necessary during a difficult time, doing their best to protect good people by being harder, to instill fear into criminal elements so those who followed the law and did good when no one was looking would be safe."

"Those are cop words, alright." Sam had pulled a few measures herself during her six-month stint as a Frontier Marshal on Therum, miners rioting after the capture of Nico Dekker and pushing the new Marshal's buttons to see how she would push back. She had never called in the Marines; she had found other ways to enforce law and order that might have actually been more brutal in certain regards. But she had stopped the riots with zero casualties and fatalities on her side of things; she hadn't lost any of her few Deputies, and she hadn't had to shoot at civilians. She noted that Monica had never once mentioned a mother.

"Dad said something to me when he came back home and was recovering, something that stuck with me." The Corpsman said, looking a little smaller, shrinking on herself. Sam held onto her hand. "He said that people remember the Lion and the Angel, but there were hundreds if not thousands of everyday heroes who did something similar, who worked just as hard. I don't blame Captain Shepard or Chief Ryder for being the ones who are remembered, but I know they weren't doing it for fame or glory or grandstanding. I've seen people who try to act important in a time of need, who use others in a time of woe, to inflate themselves to rise to the top. My dad wasn't one of those people, nor was Uncle Kyle. When people needed them, they were there being the people others needed them to be in a crisis, ready and willing while others thought only of themselves. In the aftermath, when those people rioted, my Uncle Kyle was out there again, my dad griping how he couldn't be, too hurt to do anything. I saw… I saw what makes us Human.

"You either think and act for others, or you think and act for yourself."

Damn, she's certainly the daughter of a cop, isn't she? Collins felt that gripping guilt inside of her, knowing the point Monica was trying to make. They would want me to continue on, to be here during these dark days, to keep fighting, the Marshal knew. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad. But that was how she knew she was still alive. That pain would drive her forward, to push her ahead. She would put one foot in front of the other because that's how she wouldn't fail her friends.

"Thanks, kid." Collins slipped her arm around Negulesco and gave her a kiss on top of her head before ruffling her dark hair, making the Seaman growl. Jeanette snorted as the Marine offered a helping hand.

Sam took it.

Author's Notes: I realize that there is a bit of a hiccup about Liara concerning her age, the Thessians' views on age… and the fact that she is a fully accredited Doctor of Archeology/Protheantology at a rather prestigious school (the University of Serrice in Serrice, Thessia). Look, Medical Doctors can take about 12-15 years before being generalists, and even longer for specialists… and don't even get into Surgeons. But even still, the other 'Doctorates' are probably around 8-12 depending on profession and specialty. That's 26 years old for us Humans; that's about the 1/3 point of our lives with a life expectancy of 72/76 (depending on gender). Liara is 106… considered something of a 'child' amongst her race (as she has lived a 10th of her life). Her 'views' haven't been regarded because of her 'youth' (and not the fact that she might be a conspiracy theorist or a nutcase). How does one become a Doctor but still be considered… young? Well, gee, TV gives me an answer; Doogie Howser, MD. (oh God yes, Neil Patrick Harris to the rescue!) Liara is a prodigy, like Sara. There have been a few 'young' Doctors (Von Neumann comes to mind, the polymath that practically invented Game Theory, binary math, and several other fields during the early 1900's), and Liara's respective age is the same as Sara; she is the equivalent of a 18-20 year old. I guess that's better than calling her The Hundred-Year-Old Virgin.

Thessian Haite Cuisine - This is actually a French term meaning 'High Cooking' or perhaps 'Excellent Cooking' would be more appropriate. This is the equivalent of five-star restaurant cooking, and in the country of France, they take their dishes very fucking seriously. To them, a well-made meal is a passion and a very real portion of their culture, likely beating the most fanatical barbecue artist in America. I know we have 10,001 cooking shows now, but in terms of cooking specialties, the only people that really match the French are the Japanese (who are also very proud of their dishes). The French horribly look down upon 'fast foods' and microwave stuff. So I wanted Liara to have that mentality, as she is a super rich Asari who is… slumming it but trying to be polite.

Maitre d'manse? A Maitre d'hotel (Matre'd) is generally the headwaiter who keeps things in the kitchen and dining room running smoothly. In this case, I use the term for a majordomo or house steward. Yes, I'm making Asari uppity. Any surprises, there?

I wanted to make the relationships I do have more than just some dimestore trashy sex novel, and tried out for this thing called (ahem) romance. I know most FF's go straight for 'the good stuff' but I like building upon reality. Sorry, no 50 Shades of Blue, here. (Go check out LogicalPremise's "Of Sheep And Battle Chicken" Series if you want in on that action. Bring handcuffs and whipped cream.)

This chapter was to focus mostly on the recovery of Sara and Ash, but necessarily with a bunch of visions, flashbacks, nightmares and whatnot. When shit gets hard, we generally run to someone that we trust and love to help heal us. Sometimes (like in Sam's case) we don't have anyone to run to.

I mention that Illyeria, Elysium is the largest colonial city in Earth Alliance Space (which is everything outside Sol, but honestly looking at the Codex might be everything outside Earth, too, as Mars was 'a backwater' and who the hell wants to live on Titan or Triton?). Terra Nova is the 2nd Extrasolar colony (which seems to be a mistake as Demeter was the first… and then where does Shanxi fit in?). According to the few planetary descriptions of Human Colonies, it doesn't even look like there's a billion people living outside of Sol. Elysium has 8.5 million people, Berkenstein 5 million, Benning 2.5 million, Terra Nova 2 million, and going down from there with colonies that have no demographics (such as Shanxi, Mindoir, Akuze, Amarastu, Sirona, Demeter, and others).

Forward unto next chapter! There will be a strip club involved. :O!