Jackson's eyes wondered through the various equipment that the Horizon currently carried, but no words really reached his brain. Instead, the messages that he and Lieutenant Zenzin had been sending each other echoed his ears:

"I have been relieved of duty from the STG. An honourable discharge…"

"I will see you in the Citadel after I tidy up some loose ends…"

Andjustrecently…

"My location currently cannot be disclosed."

There was clearly something wrong with this meeting. And yet the STG document looked right… except for the reason. The Salarians requested a personal meeting to gain permission to review his medical files.

That's a fairly good reason, considering how much secrets are locked within this body.

But the STG could easily gain such permission from the Salarian councillor under the Directive Spec-Ops. Why did they want to meet him specifically? Also, why were they completely ignoring one of their former members being drafted by an Alliance Captain?

He put down the datapad and slowly massaged his head. He closed his eyes and let the music fill his mind. Music… it was a gift from Catherine. It was her soul, wherever she went. That was how she stayed with him, beyond time and death.

She liked the old ones. Ones made in the early 21st century. Pop music, they were called. Sometimes even older, from the 20th century and beyond. He's grown his own collection of favourites, ones that he listened to when working.

He never turned on the newest Top Lists.

Tired of sitting down, he got up, taking off his shoes and socks. With one soft bound, he flipped himself upside down, landing on the ceiling. His legs shimmered in red, and his head started to pound with blood. It was his thinking position.

The room wasn't designed with such manoeuvres in mind, with the ceiling hanging so low that his head touched the tip of the chair. The hanger bay was probably better, but that would draw awkward questions.

Then realised that he was a Captain. Not the Commandeering Soldier, but a full-blown Captain.

Heck, nobody's going to argue with me.

With that, he fell back on the floor, landing silently on all fours. He walked briskly out of the door, barefoot.

…

Emi waited for some time in the little space behind the crytubes (off). Nobody else knew about it. She had given herself this room when organising the cargo that came in from Omega. This space was the only place on the whole ship where they could probably meet without drawing too much attention.

Well… I guess the Captain wouldn't mind, but the XO will.

Alli, after his amazing performance during the PT training and their first operation (though his leadership skills in leading Team Fervour were apparently poor), had regained some respect from the crew. However, compared to their Captain, he was like a candle lit on an open field, serving almost as the antagonist of the ship. He was a lot quieter compared to the first day, but still managed to interrupt many of the crew's daily lives. Most of the crew disliked him, and was naturally drawn to the Captain, especially the female crew.

If it wasn't for Gage, then…

She looked up as she heard a muffled curse from the "exit". After little more shuffling, Gage's head popped around the corner. His face split into a wide smile when she saw him. She got up and gave him a quick kiss.

"Why do we have to make the entrance so inaccessible?" Gage complained jokingly.

"You're late." Emi asked playfully.

"Sorry, had some work. L.J. wanted me to defrost the Mako. Why couldn't he just lift it up with his biotics and then let gravity do the work?"

There was some sort of sound from the ceiling. They both looked up curiously but saw nothing.

"How's your tommy ache?"

"Better only if..." And he leaned down to kiss her, which she accepted with a grin.

"So what are we doing? Poker?" She asked.

"Actually, I got something better."

With that, he brought something out of his pocket. It was a hemispherical object, about the size one's palms, made of silver steel coating. Gage flipped it over and lightly tapped the bottom, then let go.

It didn't fall. Instead, it scanned their little room. After few more seconds, it projected a holographic chessboard. Emi raised her eyebrow.

"Second Rank Servicewomen Nakamura, I formally challenge you to a game of chess!" Gage declared as he sat on a small box. He dragged himself over to the white side of the board with his scary face on.

Emi laughed quietly "You've been practising."

"Did it show?"

"I guessed."

...

Jackson didn't know chess very well, so he got quickly bored of their slow game.

Standing upside-down had more social advantages than he realised, and the years of reconnaissance missions had naturally trained him to stay within the shadows. Secretly observing his crew felt wrong, but he had to know more about his crew. How they acted, why they acted, and what they thought of him.

Their mission had to be perfectly planned and executed if any of them were to return alive.

Jackson directed his attention to Nekros on the other side of the hanger bay, who was fiddling with the weapons… again. All Turians were the same in that manner – they were either eating, fighting, sleeping or fiddling with their weaponry. Nekros was especially worse though: he seemed to split his time just to admire the weapons. Jackson had even caught him admiring the new Typhoon during their last operation.

Perhaps I shouldn't have bought him that gun. But then again, he's brilliant with it.

Alexander was standing nearby, adjusting the electric propulsion of his sniper rifle. The Russian-descent gun-nut would go well with Nekros as long as they didn't start arguing. Jackson was glad to have his old friend on his team. Although outwardly sharp, Alexander was a man with golden heart.

Suddenly, the whole ship rocked violently, knocking him off his feet. He lost his biotics, and came crashing down onto one of the boxes that held the grenades. Luckly for him, he regained some control, allowing him to land without disturbing the explosives. Few surprised faces turned towards him.

"Attention Crew! We have lost propulsion on rocket two. I repeat, we have lost propulsion on rocket two... and losing three. I recommend all crew to have EVA suits and prepare for the worst. Engineering crew, please check the electric backlash along the jump systems, reading seven, five, five, zero…" Davie's fast voice came through the speakers.

"You heard him. Move, move!" Jackson ordered, rather needlessly. Everyone was moving already.

…

Shema'Memal vas Hidinors was sleeping when it happened. She smashed her helmet against the wall of her bed, and her head banged into her mask. It wasn't really a pleasant way to wake up.

Wide awake, she heard the technical details over the speakers, sorely missing the ability to massage her face. The faceplate wasn't damaged, but her actual face was unfortunately a lot softer than a piece of high-tech plastic. She wormed herself out into the open and walked briskly towards the engineering sector.

She was still not quite used to being on a human ship. Even considering all the ships he had served on before, humans' ships were especially exotic. For example, everyone on the Horizon were given their own little beds and 200 litres of storage (human measurement for volume, according to her helmet) as well as a separate locker for their weaponry.

Just twenty sleeping pods would have been enough.

But the really important areas, such as the engines management space, were even more cramped then the ships in the Flotilla. Also, the ship had two large rooms, both about the size of a junior biotic ball field, where most of the crew seem to hang around when off duty. Perhaps it was because they were so used to having large open spaces, or perhaps they were just dumb, but humans just didn't seem to know how to use space.

Thinking back, their main language had only one word ("efficiency") for the whole lot, instead of seven different words to describe "efficiency".

But she liked the setup – Shema liked open spaces too. Especially when it was some place where you didn't have to share with a hundred others, but a comfortable few. Apart from the odd jobs around the ship, she didn't have any duty. So she spent most of his time in the hangers, fiddling around with the newfangled tech that the Captain would bring.

Right now though, she had a job. She got to the entrance to the left wing – a small, rectangular hatch tucked deep into a corner of the room. She bent down and crawled in, wincing in pain as her knee bent at a weird angle.

The passage widened after a sharp left curve, and she found two people already there. Kem was already wrestling with a valve and Thea (only wearing a breathing mask) was there to assist in the readings. She was surprised that she was here, but she didn't complain – more people, the better.

"Pressure's stable at five five one." Thea said.

"I can't get the measurements for the left engines' temp" Davies spoke through the comms on Kem's suit.

"I've got it – it's one dash seven zero two nine for engine one, nothing for engine two, nothing for engine three and one dash seven zero eight zero for engine four." Thea replied. She gave her a nod, and backed off to make room.

"Thanks. Valve explosion? Doesn't sound like control failure nor instrument loss." She asked as she ran through various possibilities in her head.

"Not sure. A visual would be nice, but nobody is smart enough to put a camera next to the engine." Kem said.

"Actually, we do have an external manoeuvrable camera, but I've lost control of it." Davies replied.

We had that?

"Where is it?" Shema asked.

"The unit should be right below Kem."

"Wait…" Kem finished up, then moved aside. He reached down to open the metal plate, but Thea grabbed his hand. Surprised, he looked up.

"If the camera is lost, then it may mean that we've got depressurisation."

Shema saw her reasoning, and checked the space below them using her omni-tool. Sure enough, the air pressure returned zero.

The first layer of the ship's hull was breached. The engine had exploded. EVA advice was probably a good one – engines didn't normally just explode.

"This is Flight Officer Neil Hackham, overtaking duty from Flight Officer Tom Davies. What the hell is happening?"

"We've lost engine two and three – we think it's an explosion. Engine three's okay, but its fuel supply valve is dead. We've also got first layer hull breach." Kem replied. "We should be able to still fly the ship, but we definitely shouldn't be entering a relay."

"Acknowl – shit."

"What? Why?"

A light at the top right corner of Shema's helmet flashed red. Combat status was just alerted by the Captain.

"Everyone excluding the gunners, get to the rescue pods." Captain Jackson's voice came through the speakers. His voice was hard and muffled by a helmet. "That includes the engineering group."