"Why me?" was the question that bounced within her head as Nicole dragged herself to the bunker. They were going to arrive at Serpent Nebula in about three hours' time, so she was really looking forward for some time off duty. That was until Agent Li (she always mentally called proper HIGHCOM members by their official callsign) ordered her to "befriend" the Batarian and stay with her once they got a shore leave.

Why me? I don't see any reason! Does he know that I don't like aliens?

Her new position on the Horizon was proving to be just as monotonous as her previous one on SSV Carnivore. At least on Carnivore, she got to see Beta-Two, but on Horizon, she saw nothing special. Agent Li's aliens weren't making things any brighter, and on top of that, Alli was breathing down everyone's necks.

But the main reason why she hated her work was fear. The last time she saw Agent Li was when he disappeared through the relay on SSV Jungfrau. That ship was now gone. Only Agent Li returned.

Will we end up the same?

"Probably" was the answer. Agent Li's nickname was "Lone Wolf" for a reason.

She sat on her bunk which was located on the lower level, near the door. She had to bow her head in order to fit herself into the small space. Her room was the only plus side to being stationed on this ship.

A room! Every crew (except for XO and the Commanding Officer, who got their private rooms) on the Horizon were given a relatively spacious bunker and storage room, and only had to share with three other people. That meant that some privacy was available if you bothered to hang up the curtains at the mouth of the bunker. She did bother to do so, having purchased specially heavy and thick curtains to muffle the sound. It gave her the illusion that she had her own room.

Right now, that particular room was non-existent. Lockers were emptied, curtains were all ripped or broken and grime covered the floor. The remnants of the brief Eclipse takeover still showed marks.

If the XO showed up now, he would have a fit.

Nicole should have been glad that the Eclipse mercs didn't decide to take the last stand in this room (that room, which turned out to be the Hanger, was quite bloody right now). But she was still angry that the Captain had allowed mercs to simply board their ship. Horizon was a warship. It was designed to kill. Why the hell then did the Agent Li allowed himself to be beaten up and have a dozen enemy soldiers take over the ship? She really didn't care about the fact that his tactics had minimised casualties on both sides.

Sighing, she got up again, picking up her books from the floor and sliding them neatly back into her locker, wondering why she still bothered with paper books.

…

Nekros lay inside his meshed hammock, swinging from side to side. His horns still caught on the wires, but this was definitely more comfortable compared to the flat, hole-less human beds. His mind wondered back to Jackson's story.

That's the power of humanity... They are eager to do whatever in order to become superior.

Nekros knew the history and each species' general stereotype. Krogans were the tough, crazy bastards. Asari were the all-superior, all-friendly race, Quarians were the creative and somewhat secretive. Batarians were almost barbaric (well… some weren't), while Salarians were equally animalistic when conducting experiments. Vorcha were dumb (mostly), Hanar were too respectful. Elcors were slow, and Turians were cold, calculating and organised.

But humans were different. Not just different, but especially different.

They were cruel, eager, curious, destructive, powerful yet thoughtful… each individual embodied the best and the worst of intelligent life. Jackson served as the proof of that.

Nekros grinned as he remembered how he had first met Jackson – as Bui. An excitable and eager young kid, he had reminded him of his seven-year-old cousin. He knew immediately that he was a "special" Quarian, but didn't suspect a disguise. He sure gave him a good surprise when Bui took off his helmet showed his true face. The face that Nekros saw was one of a charismatic leader, someone who may finally recognise his potential. Already convinced of Jackson's abilities in disguise, he had decided to trust the man.

Thinking back, Nekros should have been angry about the fact that he had been tricked into befriending a disguise. But he didn't feel that way: Jackson was a man with many masks, both figuratively and literally. Nekros was sure that he was had not yet seen who Jackson truly was, and was satisfied by the fact that he had seen his youthful personality.

Nekros personally had two faces. One was a formal, business-like face for those that he didn't know, and the other was his joking self for his comrades. The two masks had served him well, allowing him to easily integrate into all social groups. He never liked his "official" self, but it was necessary part of being a soldier – to become someone that you did not want to be.

He brought his attention back to Jackson's story.

Creation of intelligent life from scratch, genetic modifications, further enhancements, slaughter for the greater good and training since they can walk…

The very thought… of a facility designed to do these atrocities made him angry. Had Jackson not destroyed that place, it would still be pumping out experiments. Most would die.

But if it did succeed…

He didn't want to think about it. According to his father, humans were a tough enemy during the Relay 314 Incident. Though young, their military conduct almost matched their own, centuries-old codes. There were (and still are) jokes told among the Turians which both cursed the humans as well as praised them for their bravery.

That was without the modifications. What would humanity achieve with it?

Nekros shook his head (and unknowingly tangled one of his horns in a loop). He was on a human vessel, under command of a human leader. Thinking them as an enemy would not be healthy. And according to Jackson, they had a duty that would go beyond his imagination.

That came first.

…

Rallel wasn't idle. Oh no, she wasn't. All four of her eyes were hurting, even though she had closed half of them every hour. For Batarians, when all of your eyes hurt, that meant that you were in deep trouble. But Rallel wasn't in trouble. She was studying.

Rallel gobbled up the information in front of her –

Poly-carbon lacing, highly effective against low-velocity projectiles or large-object impact. Cheap, light, flexible. Can be built during combat using most basic fabrication kits. Minimal resistance to heat, used often for bandages or large scale fencing.Poly-carbon double lacing, highly effective against all projectiles and large-object impact, withstands significant stress. The name is misleading because poly-carbon double lacing it doesn't mean just two poly-carbon lacings, it means the porous structure of normal pure carbon compounds are interwoven. Extremely difficult to create but light and flexible. Used mostly in hard suits or Newtonian fluid suits. Non-Newtonian fluid suits does not utilise this.Poly-carbonic multilayered fabric, highly effective against all types of projectiles. Flexible but very expensive. Their patterns are recognisable when under heat duress (sometimes coated over to hide the splitting patterns). Used sometimes in flexible areas of an expensive equipment or top-end hard suits. Fluid suits rarely use this, since the variations in heat may eventually cause the layers to denature.

She never knew that such thing existed. She knew them by experience, sure, but not to this detail. And she never knew why some things blew up and why some things didn't. Now, she did.

Everything made sense.

It felt really good to finally understand what was happening. Explosions were no longer just "smash and burn", but science, one that she could understand, predict, and become its master.

Thea had given her the Encyclopaedia of Materials and Explosives, a massive book that filled almost 1% of her omni-tool. At first, she didn't bother to look at it, but the eventual boredom and her inability to start up a conversation with the humans forced her to open up the book.

It came with a comprehensive analysis of most explosives in the galaxy, as well as how each one interacted with various protection. It also came with a simulator which demonstrated the given properties. She had recreated many of her own works in the past – and was embarrassed at the waste of explosives. Efficiency. Perfection. That was her mantra now.

There was a knock on the door, which she replied by crawling further back into her bed, out of sight of the newcomer. Her room was mercifully empty (though it was equipped to house four people), so she knew that whoever was outside wanted to see her.

Thea normally came by, but she didn't usually bother to knock. The human Captain (who was technically hiring her) also sometimes visited, but he usually sent her an official-looking message before he came. So this new person was someone else.

There was another knock on the door, and Rallel responded by pulling out a pair of headphones.

…

Kisa was restless, her mind still on the kiss. On the hindsight, she was too impatient. Liam was almost reluctant, but did it for her. For her.

She could guess why Liam was reluctant. Lieutenant Lock had told her a little about Liam's past. He once had a fiancée, who was killed horrifically during an operation on Torfan. That was almost seven ago, and Liam had suffered from a severe case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

He had only returned after joining the would-be HIGHCOM.

But that wasn't the end, since he continued to lose friend after friends. Kisa had remembered Liam's combat profile – four cases of sole survivor events. According to the Lieutenant, he and Lieutenant Keniev were the only servicemen alive out of Liam's old friends.

That had driven Liam to work alone for the past three years, earning the nickname of Lone Wolf.

It was a tragic story for any person. But Liam also had to fight with his past, the truth about his existence. He had no home to go to, he had no place of origin. No mother or father. No family. No place to go to start afresh.

Kisa knew the importance of starting afresh. She herself had done it a number of times over the years, returning to Thessia whenever anything bad happened to her life. She had done that when her auntie died last year – returned to the Shrine of Atheme, where she first heard of the goddess. It was the place she visited when her father died a mere century ago. And, far back in the past, she had visited it when she had her first heartbreak. She was childish back then – only thirty! She smiled at the memory now. She thought the world had ended for her, the purpose of life puffed into the thin air. How ignorant she was!

Kisa reached up and wiped away her tears; tears for Liam's sorrow. There was no Shrine for him.