"The monster was never under the bed,
Because the monster was inside my head.
I fear no monster for no monster I see.
Because all this time the monster has been me."

-Nikita Gill, "Wild Embers".

Author's Notes: Mass Effect: Of Lions And Angels has hit two hallmarks; 25,000 reads in total on 11/30/18, and 4,000 reads for the month of November?

What, you guys weren't busy enough with Fallout 76 that you came over to see Newt get adopted by Ash? I'm touched!

Forward, Excelsior!

Medical Practice of Doctor Saelon, Abandor District, Lower Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, May 8, 2179

Four years ago…

Sara Elaine Ryder sat in the a room with Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon, a Salarian geneticist that she had been referred to by a Turian patient that she had worked upon during her duties as a CitEMS Emergency Medical Technician for Skybulance-37 when she noticed his fresh surgical scar on his abdomen that indicated he had a transplant surgery done. The veiled responses and sidelong glances that the male Turian had given had told Sara all she needed to know; the surgery was likely not legal, and perhaps the organ in question wasn't either. The sixteen-year old young Human woman had come to the conclusion that there might possibly be a chance, and she had located the Turian, one Gordaxus Mertarin, and asked him to refer her to whom he had gone to. She had explained to him her need, why he should believe her when she said she wasn't looking to get anyone in trouble. In fact, quite the opposite was true. Gordaxus relented and told her the name of the geneticist, telling her how he could be contacted. He wasn't listed on any ExtraNet domain, CitNet site, or even on any Citadel Business Directory. A geneticist was running an illegal clinic, someone who would likely help her, no questions asked.

It was perfect.

"Good Light Cycle, Seras." Doctor Ingree greeted Sara warmly as he offered his hand in a customary exchange of greetings in a Salarian fashion, the young woman touching the pads of her thumb, forefinger, and middle finger to the Doctors' own in response. "I take it you found this location without trouble?"

"Yes, Doctor." It was quite obvious that the office-in-question was merely a rental; Doctor Ingree Saelon did not run a clinic or an office on the Cit as a permanent location would likely have him apprehended by C-SEC. Or worse. "Thank you for meeting with me on short notice. Serah Mertarin referred me to you when I noticed his surgical scar and I got the story out of him how he wasn't approved through the Hierarchy Social Medical Services for a replacement liver. If anything has upset you, please look at it as my fault. Gordaxus only wishes to help me as you helped him when he learned of my situation."

"There is nothing to worry, taddi." The Doctor nodded his elderly head, a smile on his lipless mouth as his wrinkled face wizened with the action. "What I do is done by word-of-mouth. I explain to my patients to advise caution, but if anyone were in true need of help, to come into contact with me so that I may help. I am afraid that there are too many laws made by those who look to remain in power and play upon the fears of the public mind. What I do is ethical, and I am a professional. I disdain the fact that I may be lumped with some back-alley hack with only the bare basics of knowledge and technique. I am a fully-licensed practitioner of the medical sciences, and my goal is to heal."

"Thank you." That relieved Sara a good deal, afraid she was going to meet said back-alley hack. "I've never done anything like this before, so forgive my lack of wisdom if I make mistakes or say the wrong thing." She gestured the Doctor with her hands in the form of siari, Asari unity and grace.

"That wording and gesture…" The elder Salarian Doctor looked at her thoughtfully as his dark eyes studied her. "You are a student of the Academy. A Human student."

"Yes, Doctor. Third-Year, Sixth in my Peerage so far." Sara replied, more than a little pride in her tone.

"Marvelous. Dignity and intelligence in one so young, a pioneer of your species. This will be an experience." Doctor Ingree nodded, his lipless mouth smiling as he reached up to rub on of his audio horns with his thumb. "Quite marvelous, indeed. Now, Seras, why is it that you sought my services."

"I am in need of a full set of the Human lymphatic system." Sara replied softly, trying to keep the grief out of her voice. Her response had the Salarian Doctor cock his head to one side in curiosity.

"Lymphatic Cancer?"

"Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy." The young woman replied, the sixteen year old unable to veil the tone of her voice, the sadness that exuded.

"Eezo Cancer." The Salarian identified, nodding. "You were exposed? When?"

"Not me. My mother." Sara replied, filling in with the details. "She was one of the first Human Biotic researchers, even before our discovery of the galaxy at large, back during our Golden Age of Exploration. We… didn't have the necessary safety protocols and knowledge at the time, it was a new science that we were discovering, pioneering new technologies and ideas. My mother was responsible for the first implants and amplification devices, and never knew that she was getting minuscule doses and exposures every time she went to work." The young woman closed her eyes, trying not to think of her mother now, half-invalid and very susceptible to infections. "I… I know that cloning her lymphatic system will only give her a new set of organs where the DNA is already damaged and mutated by Eezo radiation and dust, that it would only give her months or a year at best."

"Yet you are a Biotic." The Doctor realized, pointing out what Sara had figured out on her one. "Your lymphatic system has adapted to your natural Eezo toxicity, adapted and utilized. You have figured out what the Turians and Batarians have not. Extraordinary." The geneticist sounded quite pleased. "ANED and the other various related maladies have been subjects to research for cures and treatment, but an effective one has never been created. But you've stumbled upon a solution; you want your lymphatic system cloned for your mother, knowing that you are genetically compatible due to being her daughter, and your lymph nodes adapted for Eezo toxicity. Marvelous." There was a heavy silence as the Salarian Doctor thought over all he was discovering. "This has possibilities, Seras. I cannot guarantee or predict if this will work as we hope, but… I can see that this has a great deal of merit to it."

"I know you can't promise success, but, it seems the likeliest of options with the greatest chances of viability." Sara replied. "I felt that it might stave off death for at least ten years, reduce a majority of the symptoms, and even respond better to some of the treatments with a set of organs that are geared towards Eezo toxicity. Asari, after all, don't have any from of Eezo Cancer because their bodies are genetically compatible. This wouldn't necessarily make a person Biotic; I believe being born with it is an absolute necessity with the lymphatic system and the nervous system attuned to the nodule system. But if we can give hope to those who serve in space for their species or have been involved in an accident where Eezo toxicity and radiation were involved…"

"This could change minds involving certain laws into cloning organs." The Salarian spoke out loud, his lipless mouth smiling. "Cloning a liver or a filtration organ is easy and legal. Cloning a heart requires many hoops to jump and no doubt some bribery of officials, which is where I come in for patients who do not have the time to wait for bureaucracy to move or bribing some sapient that does nothing to or for the process except look the other way." The geneticist snorted to indicate his thought upon such persons. "No, this is… ground-breaking. Monumental, even. I have been doing this for some time, saving lives under the sensor, risking imprisonment to give people a chance at life. I do not sell half-hacked work that will fail in months while charging exuberant prices like one might see in the Traverse or the Terminus. I pride myself in my work, and yes, I charge exuberant prices, but you are getting expertise and warranties on my work. My reputation is my keepsake, and I do not sell knock-off products with false hopes and promises. I am a professional." There was pride in that voice, pride and dignity. This wasn't some hack with a couple of courses in medical technology and some second-hand equipment making soupy organs for those with little money and little hope. What Doctor Ingree was doing might be considered illegal… but hadn't Dad done the same exact thing for Mom? Sara thought of SAM, the medical AI that Captain Alec Clancy Ryder created to help his wife, to keep her in as much comfort as possible while staving off the inevitable for as long as possible. For that act alone, Sara had nothing but the utmost respect for the man that was her father; someone who risked everything for love and family.

And she was following in his very footsteps for the same reasons, for the same person; to save her mother.

"I will set up an appointment in which we will meet." The Doctor told her, his dark eyes on her and her alone. "Obviously, my lab is not on the Cit, so I will need to transport you to my location. You will be gone for no less than two days, possibly three, so you will need to come up with a reason for your family to explain your absence so as not to arouse suspicion. I cannot perform my work while hunted, and I cannot deliver if I cannot come back to the Citadel. Discretion is paramount."

"I understand, and already have something that will work." Sara had figured something like this would be the case. It wouldn't be too difficult for her to be gone for a weekend, citing something along the lines of visiting her friend Eloa for a project for the Academy. "Not to sound rude, but how much will this cost? I have funds, and I figured that this will likely cost…"

"Free of charge."

Sara's words died right there as she looked at the Doctor, stunned.

"Seras, this is monumental." Doctor Ingree told her, his voice caring. "If this is even half-successful… this will be ground-breaking. Everyone with a family member who has been exposed to Eezo toxicity will now have hope for a better future, one in which their loved ones will stand a better chance. New treatments can be crafted while older ones stand a better chance. Civilian pressure will likely have laws changed so this endeavor can be legal, legitimate. Someone such as myself can stand to make a great deal of money if one were inclined to rob the populous, but that is not my goal." The Salarian scoffed at the notion. "If this works, even if it is only temporary, our names will be remembered, our efforts memorialized. The credibility and success alone is worthwhile, defeating death and exploring medical science to its pinnacle. What you ask for is expensive… and I have no doubt that I will more than make up for its loss within a year or two. There are literally hundreds of thousands, if not millions of sapients that suffer some form of Eezo Cancer. Doctors and geneticists will clamor for the technique, companies will strive to recreate the equipment and procedure, and Universities will salivate at hosting the surgical viewings. The research paper and medical journal detailing the endeavor alone will put our names in the stars. And it is our endeavor, as it will be your idea and your genetic material that will be used while it is my equipment and technique that will create the chance.

"Together, we can hope to save hundreds of thousands, if not millions."

Sara was just smiling. We… we can do it!, she thought to herself, not even realizing what they could stumble upon. In an act to save her mother, she could save more than she could have ever hope to have done with her own hands for the rest of her life if she remained an Emergency Medical Technician with the CitEMS. Millions of lives saved… the Angel thought to herself, almost giddy at the prospect.

"So, Seras Ryder, there is no need to charge you." The Doctor told her, his tone kindly, filled with hope and promise. "You have walked into an untapped Eezo mine. It is only appropriate that two Alumni would come across this revelation, and I would be a poor sapient if I did not include you in half of the effort and rewards. You… have medical knowledge. What is your plan for your future?"

"I'm currently a Human Paramedic in the CitEMS on a Skybulance." That surprised the Doctor.

"Wonderful. You are… perfect." The Salarian told her, smiling. "Tell me, would you wish to learn at my side, to become a partner not only in this business, but in medicine as well? I foresee a great deal of work ahead, and it is only fair that I train you not as an assistant, but as an equal."

"I… really?"

"Yes." His smile was broad and wide, and it meant everything to Sara. Hope… there was hope for her mother, for others! Sara wanted to save lives… and the road in front of her opened up with perhaps the greatest possibility ever to do just that, to save lives in an effort that no one else had discovered, given up as a failure. They could change that, bringing life and hope to those who had lost the hope for both.

The Salarian Geneticist smiled as she shook his hand and agreed profusely.

Pre-Mission Brief, Ward Room, SSV Normandy, Mass Translation from Hades Gamma to Attican Beta, In Route To Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183

Present Day…

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) had gathered the entirety of TEAM LION into the Ward Room for a pre-mission brief, bringing up schematics and intelligence gleaned by Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian in his investigations for one Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon. The station in question, Alexandria Station, was a rather common automated Heavy Helium Processing Station/Heavy Mineral Processing Station that used scoops and robotic drones to mine and process gas and ores in mineral-heavy systems generally less-than-populated due to lack of habitable worlds or satellites. Sadly, the United Aepheus Corporations' Autonomous Energy Processing Station was a popular one for those who wished to create illegal ports out in the black, hosting the ability to make fuel and processed minerals for sale for those who wished to delve into blackmarket trading and deals for those who wished to fly under-the-LADAR, and its many cargo holds and maintenance bays for drones and automated devices could be converted into living areas, docks, and even market places. Jannie had been on three of these kinds of stations before back during the Skyllian Blitz, pirate-ran Black Ports that were a part of Elanos Haliat's network to keep less-than-legal vessels and efforts under-the-LADAR while accumulating funds for charging said illegal endeavors. While the interiors could be modified and even added upon with modular equipment (the UAC AEPS was designed to be adaptable to many a systems' potential wealth of minerals and fuels), the basic layout would be well-known. She had several holographic displays showing such outlines and schematics of the AEPS that would be the Alexandria Station in the Herschel System. Chances were that most of the automated functions were likely off-line to better mask its existence, keeping traffic low. Finding a Black Port generally consisted of following a suspected smuggler or pirates' vessel to said port, or searching out the entirety of a system to find a thermal image on the LADAR. Really, the best way was to capture a pirate or their vessel and ream any intel from them, being word-of-mouth or database for previous ports docked at.

Jannie had a strong suspicion that the station would probably be unlike anything she had ever seen, according to what Sara had painfully admitted to her between bitter sobs and grief-filled confessions. What he had done to her Sara?

She was going to melt this fucking Salarian and smile. After sticking him in an airlock and playing with the pressurization process for a while, watching him slowly boil alive when she brought the atmo down to near-space conditions.

Detective Vakarian handled the pre-mission brief, showing his experience as a former member of the Blackwatch, as well as his tenure as a Special Crimes Detective and member of the Rapid Response Unit. The Turian Sniper had been on this case for four years, and Jannie knew that this was personal for him, just as it was for Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder and herself. She had given him the lead, giving the Turian the opportunity to take the mission and craft it as he saw fit, having more experience with Doctor Ingree as well as having been on Alexandria Station itself once before. What had perplexed Jannie and Garrus was that when Garrus had rescued Sara from the clutches of a madman, it had been from Alexandria Station. And the station had been in the Hershel System in the Hades Nexus cluster. Vakarian had turned over the mission to the Office of Special Tactics to complete the job, the Turian having admitted that what he had seen on the AEPS-converted base had frightened him! A member of the Blackwatch! He had come to the real conclusion that he wasn't up-to-snuff for the task, and had handed it over to the organization that handled such things; the OST. Yet four years later, he was still getting quiet hits that Doctor Ingree Saelon still lived, was still practicing his butchery, at the same station in the same system no less!

Why the hell hadn't a SPECTRE been dispatched?

That's the sixty-four kiloCredit question, isn't it?

Jannie watched on from the back of the Ward Room as Garrus delivered his brief, filling in on the details of the perpetrator, his crimes, the station, and expectations. Honestly, Jannie was impressed with the Turian's delivery, sticking to the fact, pointing out obvious sites-of-exploitations upon the station he likely knew just as well as the N7 for the same reasons, and cautioning to TEAM LION that the adversary was in fact on the so-called 'SPECTRE Hit List'; a sapient who had crossed the line in to something truly terrible.

He had one overall order; shoot on sight. Secondary order? Burn/melt remains into lack-of-recovery status, especially the brain.

No one in the Ward Room said a word; everyone had heard the list of crimes.

Shepard had seen the reactions of her team when Garrus displayed the many infractions committed by Doctor Saelon, each marked with either a 'suspected' status, 'witnessed' status, 'confirmed' status, or Council-level infraction. The sight and explanation of some of the infractions had horrified everyone upon learning of a BlackTech Organic Technology-related Doctor who was the modern-day equivalent of Doctor Victor Frankenstein, but so much worse. Some of TEAM LION looked at the list of crimes with faces that were going green (or their species equivalent) with realization as to what some of those terms meant. Others went dark or red with rage, understanding that innocent people were being used so horribly, so cruelly. This wasn't the act of some Sand dealer or slave-catcher; disgusting in their own right, but nothing like this.

No one questioned the shoot-on-sight order. This was a legally-sanctioned assassination mission in which they would be responsible for taking out what was so clearly a monster of the stars.

Not once did Garrus ever mention Sara's name. The Navy Corpsman never said a word throughout the entire brief. The team listened, there were a few questions for clarification, but otherwise the brief went well; expertly, honestly. Vakarian had covered many possibilities, splitting up TEAM LION into four four-man sections with four different insertion points that was actually pretty damn clever. The Turian Sniper was covering as many possibly escape routes while being able to search the station as quickly as possible for the perpetrator in question. Garrus suspected only light defenses and guards in relation to things, suggesting that half of the defense of the station was the lack of incoming/outgoing traffic, physical and electronic. Likely, any defenses would be automated, mechanical, dronecraft, or turret-based. Sapient guards were generally more competent, but required food, pay, and generally getting out every once in a while. Mechanical guards were a one-time-pay that, while they lacked sophistication, certainly didn't fall asleep on the job, either. The tactic of splitting up the sixteen-member TEAM LION into four action groups clearly had Blackwatch Tactics written all over it, each team heavy and hard-hitting enough that each separate unit could solve most situations against any normal forces without issue. Each team was module, a mix of leadership, heavy infantry, Biotics, and technological exploitation that could solve most any issue one could expect, as well as having the ability to call in for reinforcements to flush and flank anything unexpected. Garrus had outlined his OPORD to her when Jannie had given him the lead and the time to plan it, and with the exception of one or two minor adjustments, she had given him the blue-light for his plan.

"TEAM RED," Garrus briefed, "will consist of Captain Shepard, Sergeant Williams, Doctor T'soni, and Private Broussard." The Turian identified the first team as he aimed a laser pointer at one of the holographic representations of Alexandria Station. "Your mission is the denial of escape through the main docking bay of the station. While the SSV Normandy will be on station to secure the battlespace and deny escape, we want to confirm capture/kill of members who are a part of this endeavor. Merely destroying a shuttle or pinnacle without eyes-on does not mean the target is killed if they have disguised a possible escape attempt and smuggled themselves into something else to lead us into a false sense of security or victory. Williams will handle the heavy lifting," he meant heavy weapons, "while Captain Shepard will be in command of the team while also exploiting and technological opportunities. Doctor T'soni will be the main defense with her Biotics, and Private Ballsack will be flanking and support. The main means of insertion will be the M35 MAKO."

"Um… we're flying a tank?" Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard asked, surprised.

"Yes." The Turian replied. "Likely, you will be on the gun to shoot any effort to dislodge you and your mission, as well well as damaging any means of escape. Plus no one would ever dream of having an Armored Personnel Vehicle coming at them from space. Williams? You're the pilot."

"Awesome." The Soldier grinned from ear-to-ear.

"TEAM BLUE," the Turian continued, "will consist of myself, Lieutenant Alenko, Corporal Vasquez, and Seaman Negulesco. We will arrive by shuttle and be entering through a small airlock here," Vakarian pointed out an access point on the opposite end of the station's main dock, "which is where I gained entry last time. Sounds silly to repeat a process, but I know the way and we have the means to craft a hull-cutter and breach-sealer so as to not set off any decompression alarms and alert anyone to our presence. Plus with the inclusion of four separate advances, one team being discovered will give the other three that much more advantages. Lieutenant, you will be handling the breach, as well as any Biotics and technological support while Adios handles any incoming. Near our entry point are a series of labs." The Sniper pointed out three rooms near the airlock. "Last time, there were victims in it. Doc Nugee? Your job is to make sure that nothing happens to them. We will have to leave them in place for the time being until the station is captured and under our control, so I need you to make sure that they stay in reasonable health until we can call for medical evacuations." That had the Hospital Corpsman nodding, understanding that she would likely be working machines to keep sapients alive.

"TEAM BROWN," the briefing moved forward, "will consist of Urdnot Wrex, Ensign Tali'Zorah, Private Balsach, and Agent Zevin. You will be landed by the "Rey" on the 'north' of the station," Garrus pointed to the upper-most point of the station, "and sweep downward for any extra forces, additional labs, and any possible escape points or armories. Wrex will handle leadership and Biotics, Tali for heavy hitting and disruption of electronics, Raeka for exploitation and datamining, and Ballsack for reconnaissance and support. I expect you to find patients, as the main surgery lab was near here last time. I expect you might find Saelon first. In which you kill him.

"TEAM WHITE," the pointer went to the 'south' portion of the station, "will consist of Doc Ryder, Marshal Collins, Private Hoss, and Specialist Niki'Raan. There will be recovery rooms and… less-pleasant things down there. Doc will take lead as well as exploitation of any medical endeavors, while Sam will be the heavy hitter. Hoss, you and Niki will likely be shuttling and/or protecting patients and casualties that are down there. You will find… horrors down there."

"Um, like?" Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss asked. "I mean, no offense, but I rather be given an expectation now to lessing the shock effect."

"Medical horrors." Sara supplied, her voice bitter. It broke Jannie's heart to hear. "Living biological incubators seeded with genetic material to grow additional organs inside sustainable bodies for exploitation and sale."

"Oh… oh shit." Williams looked to the Navy Corpsman. "This is it, this is the Red Harvest?"

"…yes."

"You are saying… that this Doctor Saelon is capturing people and implanting genetic material to clone organs into them for sustainability, surgically removing them and selling them to bidders throughout the galaxy?" Zevin Raeka asked, sounding absolutely horrified. Most everyone else looked just as horrified and disgusted at the thought. Wrex was growling hard at the thought. "Sickening. This might possibly be worse than some back-alley organ cloner hacking away at genetic material for some half-cooked tissue for sale. Are the patients aware?"

"They… volunteer." Sara answered, her voice weak. If anyone had any doubts as to how the Angel knew, they were quickly being erased. Kiddo, I'm so fucking sorry, Jannie thought as she looked at the misery written all over her best friends' face.

"Your Mom, she was dying of Eezo Cancer." 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko got it. "You were having your organs cloned for her to save her life; Biotic organs."

"Damn." Corporal Jeanette Vasquez supplied, nodding. "That's some straight-up heavy shit, Doc." The Marine Corporal immediately shut her trap once she realized something. "Oh. Fuck." TEAM LION was starting to understand that something had gone terribly wrong since Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder had passed away two years prior, most of them knowing that Sara's mother was no longer alive. "That asshole used you, didn't he?"

Her silence was answer enough.

"I need to remind you that Doctor Saelon is an incredibly intelligent being that is over two centuries old that has found a means to extend his life six times the normal Salarian lifespan." Garrus resumed, bringing the attention back to himself and away from Sara, Jannie noted. "He is a Salarian Chenobit; one of a few males in a clutch that is born gifted with generally advanced-to-genius level intellect. When people think of hyper-intelligent Salarians, they are thinking of Chenobits. He is also an Academy Alumni, and holds three different Doctorates; one in Xenobiology, one in Biochemistry, and one in Genetics. These are generally considered the top fields in the medical sciences, and the Doctor is a tenured Surgeon as well. He is quite possibly smarter than everyone else in this room, and I don't doubt that he will have plans, traps, and avenues to escape capture already in place. He certainly did when I engaged him last time, and I most certainly underestimated him trying to arrest him. Thus the kill order."

The Turian's eyes went to Ryder for a moment, and Shepard didn't doubt the both of them were reliving whatever it was they had really gone through. Jannie understood the gist of it, but there was a world of difference being told and being there. Garrus had gone to the Station to make an arrest; he had come out with just one singular survivor and the perpetrator alive and not in his talons. She was pretty sure she didn't even come close to knowing the whole story, neither one of them willing to divulge in the more painful details. Whatever it was had obviously frightened the both of them enough to never talk about it. Jannie knew that whatever had happened would probably come to light, but for now, she would respect their need for secrecy. No doubt the memories were painful enough without having to tell everyone whatever it was they had suffered.

Jannie had a pretty good Goddamn idea what might have occurred, and she was going to see that fucking Salarian's head removed from his body.

Garrus called to the end of the briefing, giving them the estimated time of arrival of six hours and thirty-eight minutes before they reached the Herschel System. The Turian recommended that everyone check their equipment and gear and select what they thought they needed before getting some rest before the mission. Everyone filed out slowly, and Shepard noted that Sara stayed in her seat, looking bitter and despondent as everyone left, Ash moving over to the Corpsman to give her a hug before leaving the Ward Room. Soon it was just Jannie and Sara.

"Auntie? I… I should have told you sooner." The young woman said, her voice so hollow, her blue eyes downcast, looking at her own hands. "I just… I didn't want you to face what I faced, to see what I saw…" The redhead moved over and knelt beside Ryder as Shepard put her arms around her best friend, feeling Sara leaning her head against her. "I'm scared, Auntie."

"I know, kiddo." The N replied, soothing her brunette hair as Jannie kissed her forehead, leaning her own head against Sara's. "I know that you are, and there's no reason to be ashamed of it. That monster will pay for what he's done to you, Aunt Ellen, and the others, Sara." Jannie knew deep in her heart that Sara had done exactly what Alec Ryder had done; she had broken laws out of love, to save Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder; her mother. And that monster had taken complete advantage of a sixteen-year old girl who had believed in him. Sara didn't fear the Geth, didn't fear Husks, had even faced a Krogan in single-combat without a hint of fear.

Because she feared something far, far worse.

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams stood in front of the weapons' bench modifying Corporal Jeanette Vasquez's Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, taking the shaver out to increase the size of the packets of metal shaved from the weapons' three kilogram ammo block that was now designed to fire more hardened metals instead of the standard NiFe Block the Systems Alliance used, going towards a harder Nickle-Iron alloy known as Eglin Steel. The weapon fired a seven point five gram round through its modified shaver, extractor, and barrel. The round was now twenty-five percent larger, and Ash had swapped out the power management suite, the power pack, and even the quality of the Eezo inside the weapon. What was once a medium machine gun was practically a death machine. It took her about thirty minutes to make the modifications to the weapon itself while Adios worked the M56 SteadyCam Armature Carrying Harness, using the OmniForge to craft a better actuator motor and a more durable frame and skin for the SteadyCam model. While Vasquez was by no means an expect on minifabrication or crafting, she had taken tutorials and MilHack courses to get an idea on how to do the processes while looking up some common modifications to get some ideas while having Ash and Detective Garrus Vakarian to oversee her work.

"What's that for?" Adios looked over to what Williams was working on, the heavy drum-like heat sink for the Marshal. Ash was scanning the item and downloading the schematic that was being queued up by the holographic display for the Ibbani Incorporateds' Unidimensional Catom OmniForge, the state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line OmniForge breaking down the schematic into a wireframe diagram while displaying the elements of the component. The M56 Marshal used what was basically known as a 'rotating' drum of heat sinks that spun when the weapon activated, the heat being collected by the ten individual sinks as they spun when each reached ninety percent heat capacity. While the Marshal could easily fire two hundred and fifty rounds before needing to be cooled down, it also fired at fifteen rounds a second, a blistering nine hundred round per minute. That meant it would go through the entirety of the heat sinks' capacity in just a shade over sixteen seconds while needing a ten second cooldown; that was an eternity in a firefight or in a desperate defense.

"Making another." The Colonial Soldier replied to the Marine, making the Latina's eyebrows go up but nod at the same time as she looked at the device in question. "Best way to do this is either to double the capacity in general… or have the weapon switch off which drum it's using. Yeah, having something like a thirty-three second firing period at maximum engagement sounds awesome,but having a twenty-second period where you aren't doing shit is terrifying when you're ass deep in the slag. Having it flip which drum is being use should technically give you the ability to fire until you need to reload another ammo block. Believe me, I was wishing for something like this on the ACV Horizon when it was wall-to-wall Husks in a hallway like a Goddamn avalanche we were holding back with gunfire. No lies, a Marshal in that fight would have been pretty damn useful, Adios."

"How many were there?" Vasquez had fought Husks on Feros according to Doc Nugee and Bra, when TEAM LION had assaulted the ExoGeni Headquarters to liberate it from Geth control and to tap the database to see what it was the Geth (really, Saren) wanted.

"Four thousand." Ash replied quietly, not bothering to look at Jean, not wishing for the Marine to see the sorrow that gripped at her with the thought of that mission. She had shot kid Husks, precious little lives assimilated and converted into monstrosities. At the least… at the least Feros didn't have any kids that she knew of, the Thorian having taken them and consumed them without making their remains into some sort of plant-like monstrosity. That was what had happened to Timothy Jorden, Newt's older brother; consumed completely. TEAM LION hadn't been forced to kill child remains on Feros, thank God. Nor had those who had remained on Hadley's Hope had been forced to feed…

Fuck… fuckfuckfuck, the memories came back like a punch in the gut, and Ash felt herself trying to crush the edge of the weapons' bench with her hands by squeezing it to death. God, I had fed injured Marines to that-

"Hey." Jeanette shoulder-checked her softly, getting Williams' attention. "You bury that mierde, comprende? Put the blame where it belongs and kill the fuckers for doing so."

"Yeah. Easier said than done, but yeah." The E-7 wiped at the single tear that escaped her brown eyes, knowing that Jeanette was right, though the act itself was a struggle. It was pretty easy to tell that Vas was some once-upon-a-time jumped-up thug from the streets who had crawled and dragged her ass out of whatever ghetto or barrio she was from to make something out of herself, something better. Ash had more than a few Soldiers in her units with the Colonial Army that were just like her; tough-ass street-smart motherfuckers who never spoke of the true cost and baggage of what they had to leave behind. Ash didn't doubt Jean probably had to bury that shit herself, along with a loved one or two. The large red 'X' tattoo on the left side of her neck was pure gang-ink, but Williams could guess why it was still there as oppose to being lased off; it was a reminder of why she left and what she left behind, not a symbol of street pride. "Anyhow, I think I'm going for the switch off option with an additional program that will let you overclock the weapons power system to take on the extra heat by ramping up the power and the rounds-per-minute in a shit situ. Can you imagine this baby pumping out at about a hundred fifty percent force and rounds fired? Turn this bitch into the Incredible Hulk of guns."

"Not bad, Gunny." The Latina folded her muscular arms across her busty chest with a smirk on her dusky face, making Ash snort at the nickname for a Marine E-7, which she wasn't. "But the best guns in this can are right here." The Corporal decided to make her biceps flex-pop below her rolled-up blouse cuffs while she juked her eyebrows twice, her smile all sass. "Unless you think you can match me?"

"Shit, I already lost that competition and came in Bronze for the ladies."

"La Captian?"

"She came Silver." Ash replied as Vasquez frowned, wondering who had bigger arms than Captain Jane Shepard. "Skipper wasn't exactly pleased with that loss, either."

"Wait… la piquina Angelica?" Jeanette asked, surprised, knowing who else had 'guns' on the SSV Normandy. "Doc holds the title?"

"Thirty-six centimeters. It's disgusting." There wasn't a hint of disgust in her tone at all as the Soldier smiled. Ash still wondered how the hell Sara had gotten such muscular arms at such a young age. Lots of working out, obviously.

"Joder."

"Yep, pretty much. And she likes to rub it in." Ash knew that was Sara's way of encouraging her Auntie and Ash to try and beat her, encouragement through competition. Williams saw Sara's daily workout routine and tried to copy it. It kicked her ass. Hard. But she had seen Sara's face in the brief for the upcoming mission. The fucking Red Harvest, the Sergeant frowned as she thought about all that she heard. God in Heaven, she thought the Geth bad, and then the Thorian had to take the crown. But the Thorian, as much of a motherfucker as that horror had been, was really just the pinnacle of the food chain, sadly. No, this Doctor Ingree Saelon was more like what slavers were; assholes that completely and utterly ripped away everything dear from a man or woman in the name of profit and gratification. She didn't doubt Skipper would set the fucker on fire alive and put him out several moments later only so she could do it again. Hell, Ash would dip him in gas just so she could be a part of it. Doc Ryder was a hell of a woman, one that Ash was proud of known. But Jane Shepard had known Sara her entire life, saw her like a sister. If that had been Abby, Lynn, or Sarah?

The Marines that had come on from Therum were right about Doc; she absolutely had to be the toughest bitch in the galaxy to have come out of the Red Harvest still somehow sane after surviving a station filled with medical horrors and science gone wrong.

"Jean, do me a favor." Ash looked to the Latina, having her attention. "I don't know what we're going to find in that station, but I imagine its going to be beyond our most vivid nightmares, and we've ran into a few ourselves. Garrus made the teams specific, I could tell without him saying it. He put me with the Skipper to make sure she doesn't fly off the handle and get into something stupid trying to hunt this asshole down. I'm pretty certain that you're with Garrus for much the same reason. He loves Sara still to this very day, and I don't doubt that our resident Turian probably wants to skin that Salarian alive and staple his ass to a wall and make him a modern art piece. You," Ash looked at Jean hard, "keep him level. You see that fucker? You waste his ass until all is left is a smear. Vakarian had a point; I don't doubt this asshole is expecting someone to eventually come knocking at his door. Garrus worked the teams where someone can make sure the job is done right and professional, making sure one of us doesn't get blinded by emotion and do something stupid. You see Saelon? You execute his ass. You'll be saving lives; ours, and God knows how many more on that station and in the future. This… this has bad written all over it in neon letters." Williams shook her head sadly. "I don't know how she does it. Sara."

"Yeah." Vasquez got it. To walk into ones' worst fear? To confront it? That took a hell of a lot more than guts and determination. Doc Ryder wasn't the revenge type either; she wasn't looking forward to seeing Doctor Ingree Saelon again, not even to put a bullet in his brain. She'd do it, but whatever demons she had were standing right by her side. "Thought I was a tough puta myself with some of the mierde I dealt with back in Angelas. Known plenty a cholo or vaquero who said they'd rather die than go back in, walk right into some block knowing there'd be a tussle. But this ain't nothing like that." The Latina looked thoughtful. "Knew a chop-shop guy back in El Comp. Sold pieces off of corpses that died from gang warfare and accidents from those who couldn't afford burials or whatnot. Dead and forgotten pieces from dead and forgotten people. Buddy of mine wrecked his liver on the Grease, and got the chop-shop Doc to get him a new one. But that was some man or woman's liver, someone who had a family, had a life. Carlos hadn't cared, just fronted the twenty-five kay it cost to get the organ stuffed into him." Jeanette snorted. "Two week later Carlos is dead from… some sort of compatibility issue or some shit, like wrong blood type or his body eating away at the liver. Carlos ended up on the chop-shop Doc's table as organs for others."

"The difference was that Carlos was dead at the time." Ash supplied, and Jeanette nodded her head slowly her stomach roiling at the thought of what she had heard in the brief.

TEAM RED, M-35 MAKO, SSV Normandy, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183

Private First Class Louise 'Brassiere' Broussard was sitting in a deployment seat of the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle as Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams manned the drivers' seat and Captain Jane Shepard sat in the gunners' seat while Doctor Liara T'soni sat in a deployment seat opposite of Bra. They were strapped in, they were ready to go.

Who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to shoot ourselves out of a ship and into space in a ground-based tank? Louis was actually pretty giddy at the thought; it sounded fucking awesome. They were bringing a tank to a gunfight and ship-clearing operations! Any motherfucker that gave them issues would have a twenty-five gram coaxial machine gun and a one hundred and fifty-five gram cannon to say hello to. And they were literally going to be shot out of the Normandy by evacuating the Cargo Bay and having the APV shot out through depressurization to 'drift' the tank towards Alexandria Station, using the jump thrusters for control and acceleration. And then they were going to crash the party by blowing out the docking bay doors and fly right in!

This is going to be so totes fucking awesome!

"Normandy Main, this is Lion-6, prepared for departure." Captain Shepard called out from her position from the gunners' seat, her words going over the SquadComm. The Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Shuttle "Rey Kenobi" was prepped and reach to launch as well, second in the queue, so to speak. "We're designating our ride the "Bradley Cooper"."

"Who is Bradley Cooper?" Doctor T'soni asked, curious.

"We'll watch A-Team when we get back, Doc." Shepard replied, Louis having no idea who the (evidently) actor was, much less the movie. Captain had a love thing going on for the early-21st Century, so likely it was some old-ass piss-poor HD quality flick involving a bunch of crummy computer special effects. The redhead had forced them to watch The Matrix after leaving the Cit, and it was all Bra could do not to groan through the entirety of it (though that chick Trinity had been pretty fuckable in that leather getup). Silly concept, sillier dialog, and someone trying too hard to make a story out of an action vid. And people teased him for liking Blasto!

"'Bradley Cooper', prepare for launch, ETA one mike." Came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley, as calm as ice as they were about to execute a tactic no one had ever tried before.

"Aaaaaaand we're back on 'Galaxy News Radio' with your host, NJ Ash!" Gunny began Net-Jockey'ing on the SquadComm, putting on some sass in her tone as she took the mike, so to speak. "In commemoration to Skippers' weird-ass fascination for ancient Twenty-First Century shit, we're pulling out and dusting off the classical rap genre and bringing back the old-school with the most famous reality show theme song ever created!" The game show tone had Louis chuckle as he overheard said Skipper snort over the SquadComm. "Sara? This one goes out to you."

Broussard sat in his seat as the SSV Normandy's Navigator called out the thirty-second mark as he overheard a song being played, an ancient reggae beat complete with Jamaican percussions, a rockabilly guitar riff, and a reggae singer miming a Rastafarian tone as the lyrics came out and Louis couldn't help but laugh. The song, even as ancient as it was (like… two centuries!), he recognized it. Hell, likely all the Humans recognized it within the first few seconds, but most definitely when the singer began to sing/rap.

"Bad boys!
Whatcha won, watcha won, whatcha gonna do?
When Sheriff John Brown come for you?

Tell me!
Whatcha wonna do?
Whatcha gonna do-oo?
Ye-hey!

Bad boys, bad boy,
Whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do,
When they come for you?

Bad boys, bad boy,
Whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do,
When they come for you?"

The deployment ramp dropped opened and the Kiggs Field was released as the M-35 MAKO was blasted out into the black to the Cops theme song.

Louis was pretty stoked about the mission… but he remembered all too well what the mission was about, who it was about, and who it had hurt. Some creepy-ass Salarian is turning people into organ factories, Broussard remembered, being sicked by the briefing that Detective Garrus Vakarian had given… and it really hadn't been descriptive except to describe what was happening to any possible victims and customers inside the station. This asshole was using people to grow organs, growing them right inside their bodies! Each person was like some… biological factory in which the Salarian Doctor would cut open and remove the organs to sell. Vakarian hadn't said what happened to the person afterwards.

God, Doc had gone through this shit?

She did it to save her mom, Louis though as the MAKO soared through space, the APV being piloted by Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams as they 'flew' towards the station, only ten minutes away thanks to the Internal Emission System of the SSV Normandy. They couldn't afford to get too close to the station as the Stealth Frigate could actually be physically seen if someone were looking out a port window in the right direction, so the Normandy-Class Frigate was far enough back that a visual scan with an eyeball would never be able to pick up a one-hundred and fifty-five meter vessel against the backdrop of space, not at ten kilometers away. So they were stealthing in at a kilometer a minute in a tank for a stealth strike and one massive eviction notice courtesy of the Lion of Elysium and her squad, plus a boot up the ass the size of a medium asteroid. Louis had lost his own mother on Elysium during the attack, taken to the same hospital that the Angel of Illyeria was famous for saving people after the Assault, but Amilia Broussard had passed away hours prior to Sara Ryder's arrival in the same wing his mother had been left to die.

Bra had never blamed the Angel for not being there, for not being able to save his mother like the many she did save; she had literally gotten to Elysium as fast as she could, and putting the blame on a thirteen year old girl was silly. Sara had gone and save lives, volunteering her efforts and practical null-knowledge to bring families back together just like she had done with her own. He respected that, respected her for it. Louis knew he would have never been able to do such a thing, and he never told Doc about his mother; Sara would only blame herself for something she had absolutely no fault in. But he understood what had happened in relation to this… Red Harvest thing. Eleven-year old Louis Broussard had wished and wished and wished there was something he could have done, anything he could have done, to save his mother. Sara had done something extraordinary twice over; once in the name of her 'Auntie' that resulted in a thirteen-year old earning the Gold Ribbon for saving nearly ninety people practically written off as dead, and once to save her mother by breaking the law out of a deed that was the hallmarks of loving selflessness. But some… some fucking cocksucker had used and abused a sixteen-year old girl who would have done anything to save her mother, including going to an illegal cloner to create a means to prolong the life of someone she loved, the very woman who gave her life. Louis got that, and his eleven-year old self would have gotten that, too. No, Louis never blamed Sara at all; he knew if his mother had lasted long enough, she would have done her damnedest to save Amilia Broussard like she had done with eighty others. And Mikael Holodansk, Hong Jeong, those of the IV Fleet, and the Marines on Feros. As tough as she was and as good as she was with firearms, Sara Ryder was a healer first; she wished to save lives.

Which was why Louis was going to turn that Salarian into a bloody fucking smear all over the floor and wall and take a pic of it for her.

You couldn't save my mother, Louis thought as the MAKO drifted through the stars and towards Alexandria Station, and I certainly can't save your mother, either.

But I can save you, Doc. That I can do.

"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?" Louis sang softly to the lyrics of the Inner Circle song;

"Whatcha gonna do when we come for you?"

UT-47 Kodiak "Rey Kenobi", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183

TEAM BLUE and TEAM BROWN had already been transported to their locations, dropped off upon the station to ready themselves to gain access when everything was set and not a moment sooner. Eight members of TEAM LION were standing on the hull of Alexandra Station with hull-breaching charges and breach-sealing kits so gain access and prevent alarms from notifying the occupants of the station of their acts and locations while the main fist of the assault, the M-35 MAKO being led by Captain Shepard would start the show with a bang by blasting through the stations' dock doors with its main cannon and divert attention and forces to the hanger bay while holding a defensive position to prevent possible escape routes and give the other three teams the necessary distraction to complete their mission; securing the facility, and the hunt/capture/kill of one Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon. Secondary objectives included the securing of scientific personnel, patients, and others, with the capture/kill of any security forces, no calls for surrender given. Shepard had sent a mission update to Rear Admiral (Lower Half) David Anderson of what they were doing as well as the possibility of flexing medical personnel and security forces for the station when the mission was complete.

The "Rey Kenobi" had arrived at the 'southern' end of the station, the bottom-most portion of the United Aepheus Corporations' Autonomous Energy Processing Station to release the final team onto its hull before TEAM RED being led by Captain Shepard arrived at the main hanger bay in four minutes. The gullwing door opened on the shuttle, the interior having already been depressurized for the other two team departures as Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood from her deployment seat after undoing the restraining harness that kept her locked in, the boots of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor maglocked to the deck of the "Rey" as Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins, Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss, and Specialist Niki'Raan nar Tombay got on their feet as well, the four of them staring out into the black through the opened door of the UT-47 Kodiak as they stood in vacuum, seeing Alexandria Station appearing upside-down and beneath them, the main spire's lower access hatch on-approach. Sara grabbed an 'oh-shit' bar above the egress of the shuttle and stuck herself out a little to look down at the station looming below them, seeing the access point they needed on the HUD of her Augmented Reality Overlay on the inner-curve of her helmets' visor, her SPECTRE Armors' VI software management VIOS having been downloaded with the toggled waypoint based on the stations' schematics, highlighting the airlock door. Niki had the breaching and sealing equipment on her back, and the blue-colored Quarian Rifleman looked to Sara once with a discrete nod of her reilk-covered helmet, out of respect or acknowledgment, she couldn't say.

[Sara, is there anything I can do to help?], SAM asked, his voice coming through her SquadComm and hers alone. Collins was carrying the SAM Node on her back, and while the Medical AI with its linked Boxes provided coverage against jamming and hacking of their software and communications, being near the node let Sara talk to her 'little brother'. Normally he didn't converse with her during missions, understanding the very real severity and concentration needed, only mentioning something if he 'noticed' something that no one else had. [By your vitals, I can tell you are quite nervous and afraid. I… worry for you]

"Thank you, SAM." Sara said after turning her SquadComm to private, keeping the conversation between herself and SAM private. Most everyone on the Normandy was under the impression that SAM was a SPECTRE AI used for hacking, electronic countermeasures, and interference of hostile forces. Only a few were aware that SAM had been created by Captain Alec Clancy Ryder to save the life of the woman he loved and the mother of his children. "SAM? This is the asshole that… that…"

[I know, Sara], SAM replied, his tone… strangely saddened. [I am here for you, and will gladly help with any task that you need. You tried to save Ellen, had come up with a means to either prolong or ensure her survival, and Doctor Saelon took advantage of you] The Medical AI went silent for a moment, but Sara sense there was something more.

[She was my mother, too]

"SAM…" Sara blinked away tears that grew in her eyes, her heart skipping a beat. SAM had thwarted Mom's death for five years, keeping her as comfortable and as healthy as he could. He had been a part of her; her thoughts, her fears, her passions… her family. SAM was more than an invention or an Artificial Intelligence to Sara; he was the one that gave her the time and the possibility to enjoy knowing her mother further, to see her as a woman and not just a parent, to share her hopes and dreams to the one that had given her and her twin brother life. That final day, when her condition had progressed well beyond the point of no return and Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder had hours to live, Sara had finally confessed to her mother what had happened on Alexandria Station two years prior, what she had done and why. Her mother hadn't blamed her at all, though she had been properly fearful at the potential loss of her daughter. Mom hadn't blamed Sara for what had happened, hadn't held it against her at all. Like Dad, Sara had desecrated law in the name of love and life, pushing beyond social stigma and taboo to save someone she loved so very much. SAM knew too, thanks to that confession. "SAM, I am afraid. I look at this station… and all I can see is Mom wasting away before me, how horrible I felt for failing her. I wanted her to live, to give her life back. I know it's selfish to think this way…"

[It is not, Sara. Both you and I know that you did not do this out of selfishness]

"I just…" There was always a part of her that felt like she failed her mother, as if there had been something she could have done, somehow she had made a mistake. Had she used the wrong words? Had she angered the Salarian to where he didn't believe in her need? Or had she simply gone to the wrong person? Whatever the case, it had cost her greatly; the life of her mother… and so much worse. Looking at the station as they moved into position, she couldn't help but remember the first time she had seen it, how hopeful she had felt, the joy of the knowledge that she was going to save her mothers' life! From a cancer that no one else had cured or found an effect form of treatment for! Sara had been so excited, ready to brave that pioneering frontier of medical science and audacity, willing to break the rule in the name of life itself, to save a person that meant so much for her. I wanted to save her, so she could be there, Sara closed her eyes to stem the tears, her helmet preventing her from wiping at them. I wanted Dad home and not out in the black desperate for a cure. I wanted Scottie to see her healthy and whole… happy. Mom's sickness had robbed her so horribly, and Sara had come up with an idea that could have fixed her, could have healed her. Perhaps it would have worked for ten years or so, but that would have been ten years of life! The chance to be happy, the possibility of seeing a grandchild, of being able to grow old with her husband.

A gentle hand went to her shoulder, and Sara was surprised to see that it was Niki'Raan who was giving her comfort.

"I lost my parents, too," the Pilgrim said softly, her vocalizer blinking with her words. "A plague went through the Migrant Fleet, took both my parents and Tali's mother. If there had even been the slightest of hopes I could have stopped it, I would have done the same thing you did, Doc." The hand gripped her shoulder, and though Sara couldn't feel it through her armor, she knew what the Migrant Fleet Marine-hopeful meant to deliver.

"Thanks, Niki."

"We'll get that bosh'tet. Wrex might have a recipe for Salarian steak." An emoticon popped up on the outer curve of her faceplate, showing an evil smile. That had Sara snort; she wondered who had taught the Rannochian Human emotive lexicon. "Ready for this?" The Pilgrim asked as she pulled out her Rannoch Industries' Adas Electrostatic Discharge Rifle from her chest, loading a tag into its barrel and cocking it ready.

"I don't know, Niki. I really don't." The shuttle was now over their release point, a spot ten meters over the access hatch, where there were no windows.

"Well, that's why you have us, luck, and lots of ammo." The Quarian tapped at her hardcase ammo pouches where her electromagnetic tags and Universal Power Cells were located, not to mention her sustainment bag filled with grenades, demolition charges, breaching charges, grenades, hacking tools, and God (and the Ancestors) knew what else. "We'll get this bosh'tet, and you can tell your Ancestors you buried this tuho in a black hole where he deserves."

"It's a start." Sara replied with a soft smile, tapping her own hand on Niki's knowing that when she couldn't be strong, she had friends and family who would be strong for her. Mom? If you ever get a chance to look down upon me from Heaven, look down today. She pulled her custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon from her chest and switched it for 'fun'. Four beings stepped off of the "Rey Kenobi", the shuttle parallel to the door, the gullwing door facing it as they each 'stepped' off the shuttle and floated towards the hull of Alexandria Station, there to stop a sapient who stepped into the domain of God. She thought about the ring on the finger of her left hand, allowing herself one last thought and prayer before turning it off; it was mission time, and Sara prepared herself. This isn't about revenge.

It's punishment.

Port Dock 47-Baraka, Kithoi Enders, Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, May 12, 2179

Four years ago…

Sara Elaine Ryder stood in the Kithoi Enders in a transportation port where goods were flown in and out of the Cit, common items ranging from materials, foodstuff, clothing, commerce goods, and 'Gels imported in and exported out while dockworkers moved items in and out of cargo ships with heavy equipment to carry the cargo containers, smaller parcels, and stacks of boxes that were OmniGel'ed together to secure it from falling over. Many of the dockworkers were Turians and Salarians, generally what one saw for the 'blue collar' types, as her Dad would say about those who truly kept the galaxy spinning. There were a few others, of course; Humans, Elcor, Drell, Hanar, even Asari lifting and stacking goods for distribution throughout the Kithoi Arm in response to is final destination via its district and whatever business or residence required it, many of the smaller personal parcels being delivered by Galactic Parcel Service or Citadel Express. Most everyone was in a green work-related robe indicating that they were transportation teamsters a part of the Intergalactic Cargomaster Workers' Union, and intruding further might get her into trouble. She had gotten the message to come to Port Dock 47-Baraka at this date and time, and Sara had made a fake itinerary to cover for her absence from the Cit… again. She didn't want Mom to worry with Dad working with some science firm to procure different technologies to find some sort of cure for ANED out in the Pax System, and Scottie had two BiotiBall games for the next two days. An impromptu 'school project' and her working with Eloa'Varis nar Thessia, and she would be cleared for three days with everyone none the wiser, just in time to return to school and pick up her shift on Skybulance-37.

Plenty of time for her trip to save her mother.

"Seras Ryder?" A Turian in common armor appeared from one of the docks, standing in a manner that was polite. "A mutual friend of our said to give you this datapad to view." In his talons was a common datapad, and Sara took a step forward and took it, not at all recognizing the brown-plated Turian with the dark green markings of the Taetrus Colony; generally not one a Human would enjoy seeing. There was a vid already loaded and ready to play, a helpful icon in the middle of the holographic screen as Sara touched it to play the vid.

"Seras Ryder," came the voice and image of Doctor Ingree Saelon, "I must apologize that I was unable to come, a good many things I needed to do in preparation for our plan. Also, it is a good idea that I'm seen as little and as far between as possible on the Cit. The next time should be for your mother's surgery, not in C-SEC's gentle grace. The Turian you see before you is a representative of Elanus Risk Control Services; a professional escort for your travels. He will see you safely to me and make sure that we are uninterrupted in our business." The file ended and auto-deleted, and Sara watched as the screen fizzled out of existence and a small waif of smoke and the smell of burnt electronics came to her nose. The solid state drive had fried itself internally. That shocked her a little bit as she realized that this was a criminal dealing; she was about to break the law. Clandestine meetings, mercenary bodyguard, self-destructing messages? This was a bit over her head.

No, think about Mom, Sara reminded herself, wiping her fingerprints off of the frame of the datapad with her Cit-robe before tossing the worthless electronic device to the ground.

"Lead the way, Serah. I am ready."

"The doctor said you were both brave and smart." The Turian replied, nodding his fringed head. "Come this way, Seras Ryder.

"Our flight is waiting."

As young Human woman and Turian escort turned to leave the Citadel by heading towards a vessel that was a registered small transport under a false name carrying false cargo, neither one of them noticed that they were being followed by a member of the Special Crimes Unit.

Author's Note: Hold onto your gullets; this is going to get real fucking ugly. If you've ever read the 'Revan' Arc from Where The Law Stands Tall, then you'll see some similarities.

Bad Boys, Inner Circle, 1987 (I don't know if this is actually the most 'famous' theme song, but it's certainly very recognizable and likely to hold this accolade.) It is also technically a reggae song.

Galaxy News Radio; when one dog is too low, and two just isn't enough! - Three Dog, Fallout 3.

The color codes for the team names are the 'common' platoon colors for the Army (ie. 1st Platoon is generally Red Platoon, 2nd is Blue, 3rd is White, etc.) as a common means of not truly identifying an effort to the enemy in case of radio/signal exploitation (radio capture, signal capture, or crypto capture). Generally, names are not said over a radio as positions will have a numerical identifier for the position (for instance, Red-1 is generally the Platoon Leader/Lieutenant position of 1st Platoon, while the '6' identifier is the Commanding Officer of a unit, such as a Company/Troop/Battery, Battalion/Squadron, Brigade, etc). Any additional identifiers (such as the 'Golf' designation while would be a Gunner for a truck, or 'Delta' for driver) will look/sound like Red-1-Delta. Specializations (such as Medics, Forward Observers, CBRN Officers, extra-unit personnel such as snipers or sappers in a unit not their own) generally have a separate numerical code (the head medic in a unit is generally '73' in the Army, though you generally will just hear 'Red-4-Mike' for a platoon medic).

The Alphanumerical code in the future will be based on celestial constellations for omni-lateral purposes. 'Alpha' is 'Andromeda', 'Bravo' is 'Betelgeuse', 'Charlie' is 'Cygnus', etc. Sara, Ballsack, Lapdance, and Bra were from Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, Third Battalion, Seventh Marine Infantry Regiment (1B3/7 MAR). If I identify another letter, I will explain it.

And yes, I named the MAKO 'Bradley Cooper' after his part in the movie A-Team (*sigh*, yes I know, not a great movie) in which he does 'fly' a tank (which I took a line from Jessica Biel from that movie). To think he barely had a career after Alias (yes, I remember him from that far back. OLD!). I mention this act wwaayy back as a blurb in The Battle Of LaGrange Point, I, when I describe the Systems Alliance Naval Academy class of the Prom Night Special, mentioning how the Normandy sent fake distress signals by probe, spoofed ship signatures… and using a M-35 MAKO as a boarding vessel. Here you go, the worst driver in the galaxy is going to lawn dart a tank into a space station. Enjoy! :-D

I make a slight ubiquitous reference during Bra's referral to The Matrix with Shewolfe9's Shrine of Lies found in the Mass Effect category. The only person brave enough to describe Sara Ryder as 'Pathfinder. Female. Fuckable.' in a story and completely get away with it. Laughpee was involved.

In Canon, the Mako has a 155mm main cannon and a coaxal machine gun of unknown size. A 155mm is generally the size of an artillery round, while as a 105mm is generally the common 'tank' round on Abrams, Challengers, Leopolds, and Merkavas. I changed it to 'gram' as since the making of Where The Law Stands Tall, I've made weapons that fire ammunition based on weight, not size (5.56g ammunition instead of 5.56mm, etc.). Since the game is based on weight (gee… Mass Effect, it's right on the title) this seems to be a logical change especially if one reads the Canon description of some of the infantry-based weaponry like the Avenger and the Lancer (firing packets of metal that are shaved off based on the targets' armor and defensive statistics based on auto-targeting software, etc.).

I'm giving you an idea what will be found on Alexandria Station; something touched upon by Garrus in the game, people being used as living petri dishes to grow extra organs. But… it can be worse.

So totes stole the Punisher tagline.

Yes, I made a Mass Effect version of UPS and FedEx. As a joke. I've worked for UPS as a holiday delivery driver. And damn they pay good. The beginning part of Port Dock-47 Baraka was in fact from that time emptying trucks and loading trucks, and then delivering parcels for the Christmas season.

Yes, I used a Mission: Impossible device.

I reformatted this ARC into something a little different; there will be flashbacks of Sara and Garrus from 2179 inserted to fill in on what happened to the resident sniper and Corpsman. It will jump around a little bit, but I'll try to make sure it goes with the story.