To: Horizon Crew

From: LoneWolf247

Hi all! I hope you're enjoying your shore leave. Alli sent you all a message that I have been poisoned and in a critical condition, but I'm better now. I will see you at the ship when we leave the docks again in two days' time. You will also find a new person joining the Horizon family – a Salarian by the name of Coron Zenzin. Please make him feel welcome. He will be our artefact specialist.

Enjoy your leave!

Captain Jackson

…

Nekros, Kem and Shema sat down at the round table, comfortable midst the dull roar of the restaurant. This part of the Citadel had a day and night cycle, and it was currently night-time; about an hour past 'sunset'.

"This is the best dextro restaurant on the whole Citadel. Just try." Nekros said as he picked up the leather-bound menu. He flipped through the first couple of pages (which listed various pre-sterilized food for the Quarians) and went immediately to the meats section.

"Thanks." Kem replied. His eyes widening at the price tags. Even the Quarian foods had large numbers next to them.

They spent a couple of minutes figuring out their meal. A Turian waiter came around and received their orders. Assorted meat dish for Nekros, vegetable salad (cooked and sterilised) for Shema and Dinner Special for Kem. They also ordered a bottle of Turian Brandy.

"You can have more – I'll buy." Nekros offered.

"Thank you, but I'll be fine. I don't usually eat a lot." Shema replied.

"Don't eat a lot…?" Nekros asked with a grin. During their last meal on Horizon, Shema had topped Nekros' appetite by a dish and a protein bar, surprising even Kem.

"Well, it's different on Horizon." Shema replied with a laugh.

"Yes! What got into you yesterday?" Kem asked. He thanked the waiter when he poured him the drink on the small cup. It had a flask lip, designed for the Quarian's use.

"I have a good digestive system, and I felt particularly hungry." Shema replied, then took a slow sip from the cup.

"I guess that's better than a Quarian with a tommy ache." Nekros joked.

"Hey!" Kem and Shema replied simultaneously. They laughed at their own reaction.

"I didn't expect to meet you in Horizon, Nekros" said Kem.

"I can say the same. How long has it been?"

Shema checked her omni-tool. "The last time we met was on… The Hidinour. Keelah! That's two years already."

"Time flies quickly I guess. So how did you end up here?"

"Well, you know that the Flotilla sometimes sends the marines out, right?"

"I do, but I'm not clear on that."

"The Flotilla sometimes sends its best soldiers (Kem: like us) to the outer world as something like a second Pilgrimage. It's not official, but the idea is to give us a chance to learn more from the greater world. Since we are the rare Quarian biotic, we were sent to HIGHCOM, which had the best biotic training." Shema explained.

"Right… How are you biotic? Shouldn't you be, you know, dead? Because of your immune system?"

Kem nodded in understanding. "Mum was involved in an element zero accident while she had Shema. Luckily, both Mum and Shema survived the accident, and when Shema was born, she was born a biotic. As for me, I think I just got leftover eezo."

"That's probably the reason why Kem's biotic isn't all that combat-effective, while mine is."

They paused, remembering their Captain's story.

"What do you think about our Captain?" Nekros asked. He felt guilty for thinking him as a dangerous, unstable friend with a gun, but he couldn't help it. He was hoping that Hidinours also thought in a similar way.

The Quarians didn't reply immediately, chewing over their thoughts and picking the right words to use.

"He's… an interesting character." Shema finally said. She was interrupted by the arrival of food.

They ate with satisfied silence, punctured by occasional comments on the food (Kem: Why didn't I come here before? Nekros: I told you. Shema, you sure you don't want more? Shema: Thanks for the offer, but no. The salad is much bigger than I expected. Kem: May I try that meat? I haven't had meat for so long. Nekros: Sure. Why not order another plate? Shema: I'll second that. Kem: So it's not only on Horizon, hey?). After their hunger subsided a little, Shema resumed her speech.

"As I was saying, I do like Captain Jackson. I feel like I don't deserve the trust and attention that the Captain gives me and everyone else in the ship."

"He treats everyone as a friend. He just trusts people." Kem added. He noticed Nekros's dissatisfied expression and realised that this wasn't the answer he was looking for. After some thought, he realised what Nekros was really asking: "Do you think he's dangerous?"

Kem wasn't sure if he should just tell him the truth. He glanced across at Shema, who suddenly became hyper-focused at her food.

"I think that Bui- damn! Liam. Liam. Liam." Nekros said, tapping his head in an attempt to imprint the correct name into his brain. "Liam. I think Liam's a good person too. A friend that everyone wishes for. I'm just a little afraid of his past."

Kem had to agree. After all, the Captain became the living death in battle. But he knew he was also developing an absolute trust for the man.

"I understand… But the way I think of it is, if my instincts don't make me worried, then neither should my reasoning. And whenever the Captain is nearby, regardless of the situation, I feel safe. Maybe a little afraid, but safe." Kem concluded.

There was a respectful pause while they let the message sink in.

"That's a good way of looking at it. Thanks for the tip, Kem." Nekros replied.

Shema thought the conversation was too heavy for the situation, so she changed subjects. "Why do you call the Captain, 'Bui'?"

Nekros laughed. "I really shouldn't. You see, when I first met Liam, he was a Quarian."

Kem choked on his last mouthful of food.

"What?" Shema exclaimed. Kem drank a cup of water, but it didn't calm the nag in his throat.

"Yeah. He was disguised in a Quarian suit going by the name of Bui nar Tapaan."

"But… you didn't realise?" Shema asked. Kem drank another cup of water.

"How could I? I just thought that he was a particularly tall Quarian. He even synthesized his voice. I think he still has the suit, just in case. Perhaps he'll fool you one day, too."

Kem, who finally recovered, joined in. "I can't believe that was possible. A Human. Inside this."

"He did a pretty good job. Wrapped his legs in bandages, walked on crutches and even changed his personality. I guess though, you could probably figure out that he was fake."

Nekros ran his hand over the menu, paying for their meal. They got up.

"Thanks for the meal Nekros."

"My pleasure. Where are you heading off to?"

"I'm going to sleep. The new engine will arrive early tomorrow, so I have to oversee that. I think Shema's going to the gun range."

"Oh I don't know. I have nothing to do. Where are you planning to go?"

"Nowhere particular. Probably pay a visit to Liam."

"He's not out yet?"

"No. He's moved out of Heurta, but I know he's spending at least one more night under medical care."

"I'll join you, then."

…

Nicole had finally managed to persuade Rallel to talk to her, so they were now walking casually outside the Citadel. She had been tempted to give up and tell Agent Li that she couldn't befriend this Batarian, but her stubborn refusal to be defeated had kept her going. It was a quality that she was proud to have, but now she was having second thoughts about it.

"What exactly is your job?"

Nicole shook himself back to reality. "Pardon?"

"What do you do on the Horizon?" Rallel repeated.

"I'm the head communications officer. I'm responsible for managing all of Horizon's communications, including extranet access. That includes encryption, too." The last bit was a partial lie – one of the Asaris had offered to handle the information security, which she allowed. Nicole had noted a significant improvement to the standard encryption protocol after the Asari took over, though she hated to admit that truth.

Rallel nodded. An uneasy silence fell between them again.

"What do you do? You know, other than flying the Kodiak."

"Me? I don't know. Nothing."

Nicole raised her eyebrow. Rallel saw her, but didn't understand what it meant, so she merely walked on. Nicole felt her frustration rising for the billionth time in the past hour. This was one of the reasons why she hated aliens – they just didn't understand anything.

"What do you mean? Do you just sit around?"

"No. I study. Thea's given me a book about virtually every possible explosives in the galaxy. I'm trying to memorise that."

That. Is so out of character. Nicole thought.

"Anything else?"

"No. Uh, well, I do run tests on the Kodiak, but since the Quarians fix the problems, I guess that doesn't count."

No, it doesn't. At least you know.

"Where are we going exactly? All you said was 'somewhere fun'." Rallel asked.

"Just round this corner…"

They turned right, and Rallel found herself in the middle of a shopping street. She let out a little squeal of excitement.

That's one thing all girls share. Nicole thought, smiling.

"Ready to get broke?"

Rallel didn't bother with a reply. They raced to the first shop, their brains calculating how much they could afford to waste.

…

"You are not worthy!"

"I am Krogan! I am worthy of any challenge!"

"Don't fool yourself. You know the truth yourself. The Rites cannot be tarred by your incompetence."

"Let me try!"

A clash of metal, of muscle, of pride. Fraa couldn't win. He landed on his knees, refusing to go down but unable to stand up. The old wound on his shoulder opened, pain stabbing at his mind, mocking him. Blood pooled at his fingertips. He closed his eyes, ready to die.

"You're not even worth my time. Go. Away from here. And never set foot on Tuchanka again!"

The small Krogan coughed in anger. He was denied the right to die.

He was eighty years old, juvenile by Krogan standards but old enough to know how the world worked. He had done almost everything he could to become worthy. To be able to die gloriously during the Rite. To be anything but a failure, the underling as he always was. His mother had abandoned him, his father was trying to kill him. His blood brothers were all too eager for his meat.

His only 'gift' was the fragile biotics.

He had spent half of his life on Tuchanka, trying to find a clan which would accept him. Nothing. Nobody wanted him. He was too weak, too useless. Too small to be worthy.

He had spent the other half of his life abroad, trying to find a job and survive. Bouncer, bodyguard, labourer, mercenary… He tried it all, but was always pushed out by other Krogans. Pushed out by those who were more worthy.

He felt his blood rage boiling. What use was his life? Worthless. Not for himself, not for anyone else. He had no worth in his life. Perhaps dying while fighting to be worthy… perhaps that would be enough.

His omni-tool rang. Startled, he looked at it. There was nobody he knew who was friendly enough to send him a message. He felt his heart race… perhaps a way out?

He opened the message. It was from a human, some group called HIGHCOM. After a while, he closed his omni-tool, his mind racing from place to place. Fraa breathed deeply, then turned his back on Tuchanka.

It wouldn't hurt to try one more time.