A Fox Amongst The Wolves

by jerseydanielgibson

Marshal Sam Collins has moved to the biggest challenge in her life; creating a Marshal's Office on the Citadel itself. Tensions run high as a young woman stands stalwart against bigotry and oppression amongst the predators in the stars to represent her kind. Can an Autistic Savant cop prove to the galaxy what a human can do, or end up the fox amongst a pack of hungry wolves?

2. Human Lives Matter, I

Mass Effect. EA/BioWare. All you need to know.

Author's Note: WARNING - POLITICALLY CHARGED MATERIAL AHEAD!

The name of this Arc is 'Human Lives Matter'.

In my mid-30's, I've heard of how African-Americans were treated back before the Civil Rights Act. I've certainly been taught it, seen pictures and videos, and even watched movies. It is disgusting to think that people were okay with it. If you think that I am making fun of or short-changing the 'Black Lives Matter' movement, I am not.

I, however, am going to use it.

Humanity on the Citadel is, for the most part, treated like second-class citizens. They can only live in certain portions, overcrowded and rife with petty criminality. They can only go to certain places, denied the better parts of civility for being 'barbaric' and 'backwards'. C-SEC patrols the Human Wards heavily, and altercations between law enforcement and human citizenry is an almost-daily thing. Civil unrest and strife are abundant as firebrands and the bold rise to the occasion while others live in a police-state, just trying to make it another day under the oppression. The bomb is set, and the fuse is ready. Sooner or later, something will make it all explode.

Because when one is surrounded by aliens…

…human lives matter.

- Jersey

Arc I: Human Lives Matter

"The ultimate measure of a man
is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience,
but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Systems Alliance Dock, Enders, Zakera Arm, The Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 10 2175

Alliance Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins disembarked the human-oriented passenger vessel known as a ACV-10 Pride of '57-Class Civilian Transportation Spaceliner, a couple hundred other human beings being fed off the spacecraft through a connecting umbilical tube with a lighted walkway for the passengers to follow. She shouldered her carry-on traveler's bag over her left shoulder while carrying a Pelican hardcase made of polyurethane in her right hand, moving along with the exodus of humanity that debarked the vessel. A moment later, she found herself stepping onto the Citadel for the very first time.

Well, an Alliance Spaceport on the Citadel, at least.

The Terminal that she walked on looked like any other Alliance-controlled Spaceport; heavy with holovision monitors for updates on schedules of arrivals and departures, as well as Alliance News Network, Armed Forces Network, Westerlund News, and Future Content Corporation. Sam walked through the Terminal, passing kiosks selling snacks, sundries, and the ever-present coffee shops of Starbucks littering just about every other location, it seemed. Collins ignored it all as she continued towards Baggage Claim, where she would pick up her Navy SeaBag, donated to her by Petty Officer First Class Jane Catherine Shepard, the redhead picking one up for her from an Alliance Military Clothing and Sales store on Arcturus Station, which only sold to members of the Alliance Military. In it were her few personal effects; a few uniforms, some spare normal clothes, and several Optical Container Disks with information and programs she would need to kickstart a Marshal's Office on the Citadel. She had enough sundries and toiletries to last her for the week, and more than enough Credits to buy more if needed. She went to the indicated Baggage Claim carousal where a conveyor was already feeding luggage and bags, pieces sliding down the ramp and spinning around the carousal for passengers to identify and collect their personal effects.

Collins found hers easily enough; a large black cylindrical bag with two carrying handles and a zipper going down the length on one side, and of all things a hair scrunchie tied onto one of the handles, colored red. A deployment trick Jane did on their last night together, helping her pack her things and showing her some tips she learned in her time with the Navy. Sam had pretended not to notice that the redhead had slipped a few extra items into the SeaBag, knowing that they were meant for tonight and whenever she needed the reminder. Collins had done the same to in the Temporary Billets that Jane had, a small room that they had shared together while at the Arc, slipping a few mementos and e-letters to the Petty Officer. Their last night together had been hard, even though Jane, Master Chief Petty Officer Stacy Valentino and Senior Chief Petty Officer Royce Mason would all be assign on Temporary Duty on the Citadel and under her 'command' for the time being, at least until Jane shipped out to Cadet Month in August. Their fifteen days of deployment leave would end on the Fifteenth, and they were already on a Space A flight on the Sixteenth. It wasn't that they wouldn't be with each other for five days; it was that it was a prelude that they would have a much longer separation between them.

Sam really hoped Nihlus was kidding when he said it looked like someone beat a varren to death in her apartment, alluding to the color scheme Tela Vasir picked.

SeaBag collected, Sam turned from the carousal and headed towards the egress doors of the Spaceport, surprised to find an older man holding up a holographic placard with her name written on it, merely 'Collins' on its light-surface. She had dressed casually, not wearing her black Western Gentleman cowboy hat, Sam Browne belt, Smith and Wesson, or her pleather-corded bola with silver brooch and turquoise set piece that was normally affiliated with the Marshal's. She was wearing her black sports blazer over a white dress shirt, blue jeans, and her cowboy boots, though, and could easily be mistaken for some colonial rube farmer or rancher. The fact that Therum gave her a pretty decent tan during her time there didn't hurt, either. She looked at the man holding the sign, seeing him in what appeared to be a speeder-styled black pleather jacket over… a black t-shirt and black cargo pants. What really caught her eye was that the only color other than black the man had was going down his right shoulder; a stripe of red coming horizontally off his collar and running down the top of his shoulder, down the side of his bicep and forearm, and ending at his wrist. The red stripe was also bordered by silver.

Those were the colors of an N-Level Sailor or Marine.

"I'm Collins." Sam identified herself to the man, seeing his swarthy face, black hair slicked back behind his head, a permanent stubble shadow gracing his strong features. His broader nose, wider lips, and heavier brow gave him a bit of a brutish cast, honestly, but his blue eyes were intense and intelligent; this was no mere thug. N-Levels had a fierce reputation about them, and while Sam didn't doubt there was a little shine and polish to embellish it, she didn't doubt some of the harder rumors about their supposed proficiency in dealing swift, hard strikes against unsuspecting targets. These were the men and women who were the masters of unconventional warfare, their motto 'Who Dares, Wins'. She had seen an N7 on Therum when Fleet Master Jon Grissom had arrived, but hadn't met him due to the Memorial Day Ceremony and Services, and a hundred other things that required her attention. She was certain this was the same man, though. "You are?"

"Captain Alec Ryder, Marse." The man dipped his head as he tapped at his OmniTool and the holographic light-screen disappeared. Sam felt her eyes go wide at that name. She knew that name! Hell, anyone from Demeter, Shanxi, Sirona 61, Eden Prime, and Elysium knew that name!

This was the man who planted the flag on her birth planet, Shanxi! And a dozen others!

"Pathfinder." Sam smiled as she set down her hard case and stuck her hand out, calling him by the name the news had given to the first man to set foot on an extrasolar planet; Humanity's Pathfinder. Jon Grissom was remembered for discovering the systems and making the leaps of faith to find new worlds, but this was the man who braved the unknown to touch down on undiscovered planets to determine their worth. Her Secondary Gymnasium was named after him. Probably a tenth of all the government buildings and organizations on Shanxi were named after him. "It's an honor." She found herself shaking the hand of a man she had learned about and read about, and like Grissom, she felt herself in awe of this legend. "Got everything I need. I take it you're my chauffeur?"

"Yes." The older man gave a ghost of a smile, his eyes touching on the hard case she picked back up. "That's not… your hogleg, I take it?"

"No, that's coming in through the Diplomatic Corps of the Embassy. Something about bringing a firearm that can put a hole through a hull." Federal Marshals were often on passenger flights for protection of vessel and personnel, and all she happened to have on her was her Glock Safe Arms Model 18C Machine Pistol; it was a firearm, but it wasn't the Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver she had found to be both superior and authoritative. "I got a 5 gram in a shoulder rig and an Alliance-sponsored Concealed Carry Permit as well as my badge. That going to be a problem here?"

"No, I got the same thing, though mine has a clause for my SOCOM Eagle Mk. VII." Alec replied. "You'll need to add that if you want to carry that mammothkiller of yours." Sam briefly wondered how Ryder was able to carry a Special Forces Combat Pistol on the Citadel, N-Level or not, and figured that he probably worked through the Embassy, probably as Diplomatic Security Services. "You'll be fine as long as you have a Declaration Form for an Exception to Policy signed through the Embassy if you want to go through the Wards."

"Got it in my pack." Sam indicated, tugging at the strap on her left shoulder. The Pathfinder grunted as he picked up her SeaBag without her asking, leading her out of the Spaceport and towards a Citadel Public Transit Authority Lot, where a rack of X3M Contragravity Public Transportation Vehicles awaited. Collins was a little disappointed that she still actually hadn't 'seen' the Citadel yet, despite physically on it. Her seat the ASV-10 hadn't been a port window one, unfortunately. "We're renting an Aircar?"

"Only three modes of transportation on the Cit." The N replied as he went to a kiosk and pressed his hand onto the sensor, the station chiming in confirmation of his identity as the rack in front of him slid a white-and-blue X3M towards them through the use of Mass Effect fields and magnetics. "Renting, the CPTA Tram that runs down the length of the Arms, and walking. Only those in the Citadel Government get personal vehicles, and even then, it's the Brass. Well, C-SEC, too." Sam spotted a few Officers already by the station that held the Tram in question, a light-rail that contained about forty cars or so for passengers. She noted that all ten of them were Turians. Well, supposedly some forty percent of the Citadel Security Services were Turian, so perhaps that was or was not an accident. Alec opened the storage compartment in the back and placed her SeaBag in the back, in which Collins placed her travelers' bag and the Pelican hardcase in with it. Ryder just looked at it for a moment, and then at her. "So if you got a Glock under your arm and your Smith and Wesson is being shipped, what's in the hardcase?"

"My hat." Sam replied immediately, with a tone that brooked no tomfoolery. Ryder looked at her with a little bit of a double-take, obviously a little surprised at the thought of having what he thought as a mere 'cowboy hat' in a polyurethane case, hand-carried instead of put into the storage section of the Spacecraft. She didn't doubt he thought it a little ostentatious. "And how many of your jackets and whatnot have that?" She looked significantly at the red-and-silver stripe running down the right sleeve of his jacket, the mark of a Special Forces Warrior. That had him smile.

"Touché, Marse. Touché." The N-Level Sailor closed the compartment as he gave her a nod of respect. "Pop on in, and we'll head over. Ellen's making steak and potatoes, and you're already cordially invited. Besides," the Captain shrugged, "I don't doubt Scott will ask about a million and a half questions, and Sara will kill me if she didn't get a chance to meet you. Don't doubt little girls everywhere got some still or poster of you somewhere now."

That touched Sam, never having really considered it before. Yeah, she knew she was probably going to be popular and talked about for a bit after the Battle of Therum, but she had really only really considered the adult reactions of such a thing. Kids… kids would really see her as a hero, looking up to her, wouldn't they? Especially girls, having a young woman such as she as the focus, almost like being a Saturday morning cartoon superhero or vid action star, except in real life. What Alec said made sense; there probably was a whole host of little girls and young ladies that would look up to her, probably having some e-rolodex of photos and stills from her time on Therum to commemorate her. At least two jackasses had downloaded their helmet cam footage of her onto the ExtraNet, and by the subject pictures involved, one of them had been an Naval Security Team Member that had originally deployed with her onto Therum (Sam suspected Chief Mason), and the other during the Battle of Therum (a few probably being Chief Mason, but several involving the Bloodsalt District, the angles of the shot having her suspect either Seaman Apprentice Katarina Solodenke or Private Blake Bell). She had seen some of them herself (well, Jane had showed them off and got her to groan at their presence) and Sam at least admitted that most of them were actually pretty good.

Unsurprisingly, the Krogan picture had made it onto the ExtraNet, her standing triumphant over the creature she had knifed with a KA-BAR. There was one of her kicking in a door of Synapps (Mason for sure, by the angle), another of her leading the stack to breach the Marshal's Office (again, Mason), one of her flying through the twisting corridors of No'burg on a Harley-Davidson Motor Company, Inc. Iron 883 at breakneck speeds (she had no idea who did that, considering Mason was in the Market Square at the time), five in sequence of her dealing with her first Pillars-Priest; tackle, mounting, elbow strike, hammer fist, and Gi choke (that had to be Bell, with additional trope commentary about 'MCMAP Awesomeness!'), another of her second Pillars-Priest, her spearing the creature mid-tackle (actually, it was a good pic that was again undoubtedly Mason), a couple of her in various positions and activities that she recognized as her leading Chief Shepard, Seaman Solodenke, and Private Bell through the Bloodsalt (most likely Bell), and a five-part sequence shot of her quick-drawing and firing her Model 696 at the now-identified SIU Commander that had planted atomic mines throughout No'burg and used Jane as a hostage, her hand and weapon a blur even with the quick-exposure speed of the camera in question (by the angle, she actually suspected Jondum Bau, but it could have easily been Tela Vasir, too).

At least there weren't scantily clad or nude models in various positions featuring her Photoshopped head trolling the ExtraNet. Yet.

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

Author's Note: While this is the 'Excerpt Section' found at the end of Where The Law Stands Tall, there are some subtle differences and additions to it. So… don't skip just because you think you read it already?

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

0800 Block, Human Wards, Zakera Arm, The Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 10 2175

The X3M Contragravity Public Transportation Vehicle landed in the Citadel Public Transit Authority Lot, the integrated-VI systems of the CPTA 'grabbing' the car in an electromagnetic tether and placing it in an available empty slot as Captain Alec Ryder (N7, SAN) and Marshal Sam Collins stepped out of the air car, opening gulling doors and finding themselves at the docks of the 0800 Block of the Zakera Wards. The Aircar lot was in its separate and contained infrastructure, housed by Plexiglas walls that Sam could see through into what would be essentially her new home; the Human Wards. She knew, intellectually, how big they were. Five levels going from the Sky Wards, the Upper Wards, the Mid Ward, the Lower Wards, and finally the Scows, were all contained in Blocks that measured one kilometer in width each, and that there were seven Blocks that represented humanity's 'home' on the Citadel save for a few who worked in the Embassy and diplomatic missions, who had a residency in the Presidium Ring. Seven kilometers long. Three kilometers thick. Five levels tall.

Over two million inhabitants strong.

Sam's eyes looked at the sight of just the 0800 Block, having arrived in the Lower Wards, and able to see at least four of the separate levels going upward, each a hundred meters tall as they stacked on top of one another, following the curve of the Ward Arm of the gigantic Stanford Torus. Each level was some three kilometers thick, staggered by the Citadel's curved nature so that some of the Wards actually extended into 'open' air, four levels having half-a-kilometer with no 'roof' in which was oriented towards the center of the Citadel Arm known as Zakera. The Scows were completely covered, a sort of underground level that extended under the level in which the Citadel's hydroponics ran with trees and water to exchange air, waste products, and filtration for the Station's inhabitants, continuing to the other side of the Wards, those they were not established as a 'humans only' Ward, populated by some of the minor races. Still, Sam felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw a series of skyscrapers inhabiting the open-air portion of the Wards, dominated by businesses and corporations while more buildings and residencies existed under the levels, where a vast majority of the human population lived and worked; their own little world, so to speak. Sam did the math in her head quickly; seven kilometers long, three kilometers wide made for twenty-one square kilometers. Five levels meant that she was responsible for a hundred and five square kilometers of the human populous on the Citadel. Factor in that there were over two million registered human inhabitants in the Human Wards?

That was over twenty thousand people per square kilometer; near the density population of the city Paris.

The Human Wards were a city unto itself.

Sam found herself staring at the scope of the 0800 Block, her eyes finding the separate levels, seeing the buildings that they occupied, the lights in the windows, holographic billboards and light-signs that hung off their structures while mini-transporter rail systems going both vertical and horizontal provided another means of locomotion inside the Wards as oppose to walking everywhere as Aircars were not allowed into the Wards themselves. Over two million human beings inhabited this section and this section alone, and now she was responsible for them all.

Mother of God, did I just walk off the frying pan…

"A little daunting, isn't it?" Ryder asked, the older man noticing her looking upon her new jurisdiction, as well as humanity's first intergalactic post that was upon a foreign soil (or structure, in this case). Nowhere else did a Marshal's Office exist on any colony of a separate species, nor on any other station, outpost, or area of inhabitants. The creation of the Marshal's Office on the Citadel really was a huge step for humanity, as it would give them a little more authority and ability to have a say in matters, to establish that they really were becoming a part of the galactic community as oppose to just occupying a portion of it. "Remember my first time here. Needed a forklift to pick my jaw up off the floor, too."

"That obvious?"

"Yep." The N folded his arms across his chest, smiling slightly. "Come. Already texted Ellen so she knows we're coming soon, and I don't doubt she'll insist on feeding you. The twins are home, too, no doubt busting at the seams." He opened the storage compartment in the back of the X3M to let Sam collect her gear, the N again taking it upon himself to carry her Navy SeaBag for her. Well, he was being polite and gentlemanly, at least. He closed the compartment and went to a nearby meter station and place his palm on the biometric reader, and Sam watched the slot 'grab' the Aircar and pull it into a rack that held seven other identical vehicles for storage and use. "This way."

"Lead on, Pathfinder." Collins nodded as Alec took the lead, walking towards the lift that would lower them from the CPTA Lot that stood approximately twenty meters above street level and onto the main level of the Lower Wards, the lift's translucent wall giving the Federal Marshal a view of the boulevards, businesses, and shops of the main street as she watched the masses of humanity traveling them, going their way towards whatever destination was apt for them on foot. It was still fairly early in the evening (Citadel Time), and the hustle and bustle was more-than-likely end-of-business/heading-home traffic, though as she understood it, the 'sun' never did set in the Citadel Wards, the artificial sky always shining. As least the temperature of the Citadel was set at a comfortable if cool fifteen degrees Celsius. The lift lowered to the 'ground' level of the Lower Wards quickly as the translucent partition slid open to give access to those riding on the lift as Ryder once again took charge, Collins following him as she found herself arriving to, of all things, a security checkpoint. There was a line of humans heading towards the station manned by Citadel Security Services, known as C-SEC, and Sam quickly noted that every single one of the ten officers that manned it were Turian. That… was telling. More so than it had been at the Alliance-oriented Spaceport. Come to think of it, did the other species come on their own Spaceports, or was it just Mankind?

"Is this common?" Sam asked Alec discretely as they got in line, perhaps a dozen or so people from the front as she studied the procedure; there was a multiscan machine that would access the person who stepped into the marked zone and stood there for five seconds as multiple scanners swept the person in question, looking for what she assumed to be the obvious; explosives, firearms, narcotics, and illegal tech. There was a man being scanned as they entered the line, standing in a common search position with his feet at shoulder-width apart and his arms held out to either side as a series of beams ran over his body while being watched on by a technician watching the readings and several more seemingly ready to pounce.

"Only in government facilities, C-SEC Academy, and the Human Wards." Alec confirmed, keeping his voice low. "Citadel EID Chips label us as human, and if the place in question doesn't allow it, we can't get in." That filled Collins with unease, hearing of that semi-oppressive stance on ANN. She knew there were issues, but that seemed heavy-handed. "And you don't want to be caught in a part of the Citadel you aren't allowed to be in. Trust me on that."

"How much of the Citadel does that entail?" The Marshal asked.

"Pretty much all of it."

The line moved forward as a blue light was given (she'd have to remember that blue was the 'positive' light to humanity's commonly-accepted green) as Sam moved with the line, now suddenly glad she didn't have her weapons at the moment. For her first trip to the Citadel, she had decided to play it incognito, to look upon what would be her jurisdiction without advertising her presence. Her equipment was set to arrive in the next day or so through diplomatic means through the Human Embassy, but for now, she was dressed in attire that didn't look too uncommon for someone from an agrarian colony, such as Elysium or Eden Prime. She'd doubt anyone would recognize her as the Marshal of Therum if they put a picture right next to her, which was the point. She dug through her traveler's pack quickly to pull out the datapad that contained her Declaration Form for an Exception to Policy for her Glock 18C, knowing that she would need to show it to the checkpoint without being told. The line continued to move, and Sam watched as two people were pulled out of the multiscanner for whatever reasons, taken to a small station set aside, the alumniglas walls opaque and certainly foreboding. The humans in question, both men of a seedier variety, were spitting mad as they cursed and resisted every step of the way. It reminded her well enough of Spaceport Security when traveling but she had a feeling there was something more sinister to it than that as one Turian Officers ejected a man waiting in line who had decided to get mouthy with the wait, collecting him with some sort of device that locked him up and dragged him away, much like the Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms 2169 Lawbringer Assault Rifle did with its phasic rounds. Collins was appalled at the sight as she looked to Ryder, who minutely shook his head 'no', indicating to leave it be.

No one in line said a word at the sight of those incidences. Not one word at all.

"Next monkey!" A Turian manning the terminal at the multiscanner called out as it became Ryder's turn, the N inserting his OmniTool into a 'Tool Port before walking into the device and standing in the center of it in the same position as everyone else; a vertical spread-eagle. No doubt Ryder's OmniTool declared his status as armed, and while, including the necessary licenses for him to Carry Concealed. Sam watched as the telltale lights swept over his body, gracing the common clothing that he wore appropriate to the Citadel as the device chimed a few seconds later, a blue light appearing as seven Turian Officers all watched the action, each of their taloned hands carrying a device that Sam had no doubt were different makes and models of pacification tools.

Sam briefly wondered if this was what it felt like to enter into the Warsaw Ghetto of old.

It became her turn, and the 'monkey' stepped forward, inserting her datapad into a slot just above the 'Tool Port for the same reasons as Alec had with his OmniTool, complying easily enough as she did the same thing that Alec had done, letting the scanner do its job as she closed her eyes to keep the light band from blinding her and giving her a subsequent headache. The scanner finished and chimed, a blue light appearing as Collins finished going through the checkpoint as she watched at least two of the Turians leer at her ugily, one of them tapping his rod against his armored thigh, classic intimidation. She got the gist of the suggestion and turned her attention away while collecting her authorization datapad, her mood foul as she walked towards where Alec stood, seeing nearby on the wall near the checkpoint station a bit of graffiti. The wall's pristine white surface had been marred with ugly black spray paint, undoubtedly an illegally acquired 'tag app' on someone's OmniTool. It almost seemed like a bit of teenaged rebellion until she read the three bold words that had been immortalized on the wall, large and plain for all to see. She had to only read it once, and the sight of it chilled her. It simply read;

'HUMAN LIVES MATTER'

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

Marshal Sam Collins walked into an upper-level apartment in a complex building in the 0830 Block (Mid Wards), where the numbers '2547' read on the door before Captain Alec Ryder opened it with a wave of his OmniTool, entering the access pass to unlock the door, walking inside before letting Sam into chaos and anarchy. The young woman felt a bit of a shock as she found herself walking into a small living room that, while furnished appropriately with couches, a coffee table, a holovision monitor, and various decorations and accessories one would find in a domicile, the living room was dominated by not one but two tornados, human ones at that.

"Kids! Knock it off! We have a guest!" Came a woman's voice from somewhere to the right, deeper into the apartment as a woman in mid-30's appeared, the aire of a survivor gracing her as only befitted a mother of what appeared to be two prepubescent teenagers, one boy and one girl. Sam felt a little uncomfortable walking into a strangers' house and interrupting their lives in such a way, seeing the boy and girl roughhousing in the living room as kids would, the playful fighting never serious until someone got hurt. They weren't exactly fighting or wrestling, but if they were practicing martial arts or Earth Urban Competitive Combat, that wouldn't have surprised her either. The romping stopped as a sandy-blonde boy and an almost auburn-haired girl stood up from their adventure, glaring daggers at one another before their eyes went to their mother and choired sorry, Mom at the same time in feigned innocence. It was so domestic and normal that Collins felt a little more at ease in such a new place and new situation. These were normal people, with normal lives, and it was normal to invite a guest inside.

"Do I want to know who started it?" Alec asked, his voice amused as he folded his thick arms across his thick chest. He was obviously nobody's fool.

"Silver Medal did!" The girl fired off quickly, explaining that one quickly. Twins, paternal, and the girl was the older one, if the nickname for her brother could be believed. 'Silver Medal' was certainly… interesting to describe the second-born child of a pair. Sam briefly wondered what the boy called his sister.

"Nuh-uh! Minute Rice did it!" Ah, that explained it. It was perfect sibling rivalry, especially amongst twins. The girl was looking at her funnily for a moment before her jaw dropped open and her eyes went wide. A youthful teenager defeated her plain disguise.

"Ohmygoshyou'retheMarshal!" The girl's youthful voice went up two octaves and two dozen decibels. All pretenses of the prior battle for twindom were quickly forgotten as the boy looked at her too, his face opening up. "Scott, that's her!" The girl was practically bouncing in place as her face was aglow with enthusiasm as Scott's face lit up as well.

"I've seen all your vids!" The boy declared, his voice full of enthusiasm.

"There's vids now?" Sam winced, looking to Alec, who merely rolled his eyes as he set down her Navy SeaBag and took off his black pleather speeder jacket, hanging it on a nearby coatrack by the apartment's front door. Collins noted that his SOCOM was in a shoulder rig and he made no motion to taking it off. He offered to take her own blazer and Collins shrugged it off, her Glock popping into view as she handed the N her coat, hanging next to his jacket on the rack.

"Yeah!" The girl piped up, obviously eating all this up. "There's the one of you breaching your boss's Office…"

"…The one where you're pulling donuts on a Harley…"

"…Oh! The one where you pistol-whip some gorilla when he barred your way!"

"And the one where you choke a Batarian to death!"

"Sara Elaine Ryder and Scott Michael Ryder!" Both kids winced at the sound of all three names being announced with authority by their mother, the woman scowling appropriately as she stood there, hands on her hips and tapping her foot. They were in for it, now. "You two wash up for dinner and quit pestering our guest! You to need to be on your best behavior for the Marshal." A choir of yes, Mom came as the reply as Sam did her best not to smirk too openly at the sight of the twins complying with their mother's wish, heads hanging as they sulked away towards the lavatory. "Sorry about that." The woman turned to look at same, dressed sensibly in slacks and a blouse, neither plain nor showy. The woman stuck her hand out. "Doctor Ellen Ryder."

"Sam Collins." The Marshal shook the Doctors' hand, finding her grip to be sure and steady; not a normal woman's handshake, light to the touch. "Thank you for inviting me into your home, Doctor." She had the sense that the woman ruled the roost in this family.

"Ellen, please." The Doctor insisted as she waved towards the living room. "Make yourself comfortable, and dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes." Sam could smell cooked meat and boiled potatoes, and she had to admit that she was hungry. She hadn't eaten much on the Arc before catching her flight to the Citadel, and the spacecraft hadn't offered an in-flight meal or even complimentary snacks. At over seven kiloParsec's away, the direct flight had been a long one, taking just over seven hours to complete. For a flight occupying such a length of time, one would think that a Spaceline Company would have offered more in the way of refreshments. Thankfully, Sam had at least had breakfast before boarding her flight. Sam did her best to act normal as she apprehensively entered the connecting living room, finding a couch and tentatively sitting in an available spot, trying not to act nervous. She… never been in a house before, even an apartment meant to be one. Alec, who had taken residence in an easy chair, seemed to notice.

"You know, this isn't the first time we've met."

"I didn't get a chance to meet you on Therum." Sam frowned, knowing that she would have remembered meeting the Pathfinder. Perhaps it was… earlier? Much of her childhood was a tumbled kaleidoscope of memories that she had difficulty knowing what was real, true, or just fantasy. It had taken her years of therapy and counseling to progress to a level of near-normal human interaction. "I'm afraid I don't remember the last time."

"You wouldn't." The older man smiled, one that didn't present joy, but an old sorrow. He got up off his chair and went to a bookcase near the wall-mounted holovision, where the shelves were lined with organized pleather-bound books with no titles on their spines. No, not books; journals, Collins realized, recognizing them for what they were. Personal journals. The N scanned through the shelves, past the color-coded identifiers that were marked at the bottom of the spines, selecting one that was identified by a red band. He picked the third of seven as he pulled it out with a gentleness that belied such a strong-looking figure as he returned to his easy chair, holding the journal in such a caring manner as to give credence of personal intrinsic value. "These," he indicated the journals, "are my personal memoirs, starting from being selected for the Excelsior mission until the births of my children." That had Sam almost gasp out loud. With a life such as Alec Ryder's, such personal thoughts and experiences would be priceless. "Each color represents a period of my life. White," the first set of journals at the top left of the bookshelf, "represents everything before the launch of the Excelsior and the trip through the Charon Relay. Blue," the next set, "represents those days when discovery and exploration was a day-to-day event." A smile came to his swarthy features, a smile of times when the man had been the pinnacle of his entire race, the Pathfinder of a dozen habitable worlds and who knew how many others? "Green represents our colonial efforts, the first settlements in the stars.

"Red represents the First Contact War."

Sam found herself completely immersed.

"Now where are my… ah!" Alec looked to the coffee table and found a pair of bi-focal reading glasses, putting them on with practiced eased as he thumbed the journal open, turning through many pages before slowing down, reading a few words, and flipping a page until he exclaimed his arrival of what he was looking for. "October Third, 2157." He looked to her for a moment, peering at her from above his glasses, tilting his head downward slightly in order to do so. "This will not be an easy listen, Marshal. Just so you know."

"Please, continue." Sam sat forward, eager to hear. She didn't actually know anything about her life before the FCW. She only knew her name from the orphanage, and that she had been rescued by soldiers from Operation: Repensium. All she had from before was the graves of her parents who were killed in a kinetic strike where she had been found. She didn't even own a picture of them, unable to find any in the Colonial Registration Office, the building having been struck by a kinetic strike. She felt… pain at not knowing. How did this man know what she did not? It was obvious he could tell, as he sighted and looked to the words peened by his own hand in such tumult times.

"October Third, 2157;

"We were in the middle of search-and-rescue operations after the disaster in New Beijing, those who survived banding together to continue fighting the Raptors (what we called them at the time), no one calling it quits. We were south of Neo Hong Kong when we saw a flash and a strike to our north, perhaps a klick or two away. We knew what it meant; the Raptors had launched a Finger of God (what we called kinetic strikes back then) on some defenders or survivors. We pushed forward to either engage a Raptor Reconnaissance Team or provide assistance to whomever might have survived the orbital bombing. About two-thirds of the way towards the growing pillar of smoke, we came across a small patrol of Raptors, aiming their weapons at us but not firing. There was a tense moment when both sides were ready to fight it out, but the Raptors were talking to each other in their language, pointing at us but not indicating for us to surrender, nor firing upon us.

"Eventually, one came out in the open, holding something in his claws; something in a blanket. I moved forward after ordering my men to hold position and not to do anything unless I signaled it as I approached the Raptor, seeing its strange dinosaur-like face looking at mine, its mouth pincers lowering slightly as it said something to me in a voice that was neither hostile or commanding. I looked into the aliens' arms, and was surprised to see a human child held gently in its claws, wrapped up in a haphazard fashion in a dirty blanket. It was a girl, blue eyes rimmed with tears as she cried, wailing one word; 'Momma!'. The Raptor held her out to me, and I took the child, a toddler, perhaps two years old. I held her close and despite dirt, grime, armor, and sweat, her little arms went around my neck as she clutched at me, her sobs lessening. The Raptor reached out with a claw and gently caressed the child's brown hair, as gentle as a parent would, its eyes… emotional. It said one word, and though I never learned of its meaning, I could tell that it was sorry.

"Me and the child went back to the band of survivors, where everyone was amazed at what had occurred. We had seen the worst horrors that war could offer, and yet the gesture we had witnessed was… it was indescribable. One of the Navy survivors, this kid named Mary, took the little girl into her arms and soothed her, the baby asking for her mother again. We all looked to the pillar of smoke ahead and knew the answer. Poor child was an orphan."

"October Fifth, 2157:

"We had been traveling cross-country for two days now, our wounds getting to us and almost completely out of food. A Raptor Hunter/Killer patrol has been stalking us for hours now, and we've already had to leave two of our own behind, their injuries too great to continue on. We heard their last moments in the distance, ambushing the Raptors to buy us some time with their lives, a sacrifice both worthy and beautiful, lost in the din of violence and blood. I've long lost the ability to cry anymore.

"Caught Mary sneaking her rations to the child again, and I pretended not to notice. She's grown attached to the little girl, and through all this misery, it's the only bright spot we have. We're on the move to head towards Neu Incheon, where we hope there is still some resistance left, the 3rd Marine Expeditionary Unit having dropped on the city with the intent to clear-and-control. If New Beijing was any indication on how bad things are, I am not hopeful. Still, I tell my survivors that we will find someone else, perhaps a bunker or a defense where we can actually get a few hours rest and some crappy food for once.

"Hunter/Killer team caught up to us, and despite the defensive location and traps we laid, they came at us like wolves in the night. Lost half our band, ten good men and women dead fighting off the Raptors. Mary died fighting, holding cover while protecting the little girl. A Raptor had breached the perimeter wall we established and the Sailor shoved a KA-BAR into its neck and damn near decapitated the alien. Unfortunately, the one right behind it put a burst through her chest, practically imploding it. She still managed to kill that one as well, putting a trio of Mattock rounds into its spiky forehead before gurgling her last, holding the child as the little girl cried, giving the baby a last kiss on her forehead.

"Her last words spoken were 'Samantha Lynn'."

"October Tenth, 2157:

"Neu Incheon was mostly a bust, the city looking like Godzilla pounded the hell out of it. Found some resistance fighters who led us into a fortification that was too tough for the Raptors and their Fingers of God to crack. There's only four of us left, and we're past the point of exhaustion. We ran out of food completely yesterday, except somehow the little girl never complained of being hungry. I found a few crackers and a snack bag of peanuts in my gear yesterday underneath some of my stuff, and I gave it to her, ignoring my own belly as I watched Samantha munch away happily, giving me a toothy smile. I may never have kids of my own, may never leave this planet alive, but I found a way to save just this one life. I pray to God that it matters somehow.

"We reached the fortification, and we had a stroke of luck; it's a colonial building basement reinforced by survivors of the initial attack, preppers and hoarders really shining through. They've got food, water, and beds, and I've had my first full meal in thirteen days. We joined the resistance here in Neu Incheon, seeing hundreds of civilians helping out the remaining forces of Sailors and Marines dropped in Repensium. I don't know how many are left, but my band of four wouldn't make it much farther, and couldn't hope to find better. I think of the twenty-five survivors of New Beijing and how they died to get just four to someplace we consider safe, and the math hurts. It's a good thing I can't cry anymore, because I don't know if I could be functional. Twenty-five walked out of hell, just so four could bring back one tiny survivor. Fighting an alien race, it drives me to see what being human is all about; Samantha is the healthiest of us, well-fed, cleanest, and completely without wounds. It matters.

"The fortification has a Doctor, who checked out the little girl for us, the physician not asking where the girl's parents were; probably an all-too familiar story. There were children in the fortification, no where else to go, and I realize that this must be held, that right there, Samantha and those little boys and girls were the reason we were doing this. The pain, the hunger, the death… worth it. Children are our future, why I stepped foot on this planet and planted the registration beacon on its soil almost a decade ago. Hope for a future, a dream worth having, worth fighting for. We fight for our homes and families. We will stay here and aid the resistance, wait for reinforcements come.

"Samantha is well, playing with the other children, laughing and babbling without a care in the world. If I die, that's the image I want to take with me. When the physician asked me the child's name, I remembered Mary, that brave Sailor who gave her life for a child, fighting monsters. She had named the child, so I filled in the rest in a way I thought appropriate; I gave the girl Mary's last name, Collins. Whoever she was before, I doubt we'll ever know. If her parents are in Heaven, I hope they'll understand. Times have grown harsh, and I hope, just hope, that perhaps I created something beautiful for something so fragile and precious, something worth fighting and dying for. Today, I fight for the future of just one little girl named Samantha Lynn Collins. It will be enough. It matters."

Alec Ryder closed his journal softly; coveting hands brushing its pleather cover as the Pathfinder gave off a long breath, obviously reliving memories. As for Sam, she wiped away at the fat teardrops that cascaded down her face, finally knowing what happened during the First Contact War. Questions that had remained unanswered all this time finally coming to light. It hurt, but it was a new kind of pain, one she would learn through its depths at a later time. She finally had what she wanted to know, and why she hadn't been able to find out more.

"What was she like? Mom?" Sam asked, looking at the Pathfinder, who looked to her with a thousand-meter stare, obviously still in the past. It occurred to her that she never asked Master Chief Valentino about Shanxi, didn't want to broach it. Sure, Stacy had a comment or two here and there, but Collins knew enough to know that hundreds of thousands that they poured into the fight for Operation: Repensium had been slaughtered to a very high percentage; only about ten percent survived. Mankind had banded together with fury and righteousness at the news of an alien species decimating their kin, but had been woefully unprepared, outgunned and outclassed. Mary Collins had been the woman she had known to be her mother her entire life, yet she knew nothing of her save the day she died, buried next to Michael Collins, whom was her husband. It never occurred to her that… no, Mary Collins was the closest thing she ever had to a mother, even if for two days. She had her name, and she knew where she was buried. That was good enough, that mattered to her.

"I only knew her from New Beijing, probably five or six days." Alec replied after a moment, deep in thought. "She… got married on Earth to a Sailor before we deployed, and he died in NewBei. Probably only married for a week or two at best." The Special Forces Warrior looked older after that response. "You… pulled her out of depression, someone who was just going through the motions of living, made her feel and care again. I think she felt the same way I did at the time; she found something worth truly fighting for, something to live for, and something to die for. Another group of survivors had actually visited the school that was bombed from orbit, what the Turians struck, and they said there wasn't much left. Not sure if you were inside, outside, or how the Turians found you. Whoever your real parents were was lost to war and destruction, I'm afraid. But I know of two people that cared to try, Seaman Mary Collins being one of them. The other? He works in C-SEC."

"The Turian." Sam realized, understanding what Ryder was getting at; an act of mercy when there was none to be had. "He's… on the Citadel?"

"Yes, the Legio of their Homicide Division, a Commandant in Turian." The N-level Sailor replied, nodding his head. "His name is Venari Pallin."

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

Dinner ended up being a simple but delicious affair that Marshal Sam Collins found herself enjoying at the dinner table of the Ryder family. There had been a bit of a debate between the twins on who would sit next to 'their guest', in which Sara and Scott bickered for a good minute or two before it was settled, that the ladies would sit on one side and the boys on the other, to where Sam was actually in between the children at their round dinner table. Scott was fascinated by the Battle of Therum, which was all he wanted to talk about, but Sara was much more enamored by Sam herself, actually asking details about more than just Therum. Collins did her best to endure the assault from both sides, the Ryder parents obviously amused that it wasn't them that was the focus of the attention for a change. Having two twelve year-old kids certainly promised interesting times as she did her best to answer the many questions she got in a tactful manner as possible, not wanting to divulge in gory details or some of the darker moments of that time. Scott, like any other boy, was about firearms, speeder bikes, serving around the military, and even asked if it were true that she knifed a Krogan. Alec had almost choked on his soy protein extract, beef-flavored steak at that while Ellen reprimanded her son. Sara then pointed out Sam hadn't actually answered the question, and the Marshal could tell by the way the kids (and even Alec) were looking at her that they were expecting a response. Collins looked to Ellen for some kind of rescue, but the mother merely smirked as Sam confirmed the rumor that, yes, she had indeed taken down a Krogan with a KA-BAR, trying to answer as diplomatically as she could. Questions and dinner continued and Sam found the experience… charming. It was hard to get use to first, nervous and awkward with her Autistic mind trying to make sense of this unusual situation. It took her a few minutes to ease into it, though, and she found that having dinner with a family a nice moment.

It was the first one she ever had of the sort, and she wouldn't mind sharing more.

Dinner was over and it was interesting to Sam to see the children's reaction to doing dishes and cleaning up afterwards, a whole hosts of moaning and complaining as they collected dishes from the table, scraped leftovers into the refuse chute, and hand washed the plates instead of simply rinsing them and putting them into an autoclave dishwasher. She spent the time talking to Ellen, finding out that she was an engineer who minored in physiology and performed research and testing on Biokinetic Amplification Devices, or BioAmps. That had Sam impressed; Biokinetic Research was top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art research for humanity, the field only being less than thirty years old, but honestly closer to twenty since the Incident in Bangkok and the discovery of Eezo Mutation in fetuses. Ellen Ryder had been involved in every L-Series Implant and BioAmp release since their first inception in the early 60's, now working on the more highly-advanced L3(a) Implant meant to stabilize Biokinetic draw as oppose to being more of a capacitor like the L2(a)-(f) Series. Sam found Ellen to be a wealth of information and completely passionate about her line of work, hoping to advance human improvement and advancement through science, research, and understanding.

Sam was also the host of two very eager sets of blue eyes looking at her with expectant faces.

"I think they'll pop if they're not allowed a few questions." Collins noted to both Alec and Ellen, the N on his easy chair, reading classical literature from an actual paper book, and Ellen on the couch with her. The male Ryder snorted as he put a bookmark in Huxley's Brave New World as he looked to his children.

"Three questions each, one at a time alternating in between, nothing about death." The Pathfinder spoke, his tone soft by firm. The effect on the children was immediate; they took it seriously, and didn't question it. The level of respect that they had for their father was profound, and Sam rather envied them that. "Think them over before you blurt, and then it will be off to bed with you two."

"Can… Scott go first?" Sara asked, her tone respectful. "Mine might make a long answer." To that, the Marshal nodded her head, looking to the twelve year-old boy, whose face scrunched up before his eyes popped open.

"I saw the vid of you stacking and entering your Marshals' Office with the Sailors. Rumors say it was because your boss was a traitor. What happened?" Collins found that to be a good and reasonable question.

"At the time of the assault," Sam began, "I was arresting him for Falsification of Customs Documents for certain, with probable evidence with knowledge and collusion in the slavers' ring known as the Trail of Tears Consortium. Know what that is?" Both kids nodded solemnly, Alec frowning but saying nothing. "There were a whole host of charges to include slavery, murder, and corruption. But high treason was also involved, though I didn't know it during the raid; he had been selling Alliance Patrol schedules to the Consortium so they could operate in the free-and-clear." The N-Level Sailor's face went an ugly dark color, but said nothing; he was probably well aware of what happened in the House of Horrors. "So yes, Bart Weathers very much was a traitor, but I didn't know it at the time, discovering it on his work station when I took over his position."

"Serves him right!" All eager righteousness out of the youth. Was she ever so young? Sadly, Sam couldn't remember those times that well due to her Autism. It wasn't that she couldn't remember anything, but she had a hard time grasping concepts at the time, as well as associating interpretations. When she finally worked her way into 'discovery', her cognitive awareness practically burst forth.

"My turn, Silver Medal." The older twin smirked as she looked to Collins with a more serious face. "What made you be a cop? I mean, I know you're young for the job, so something must have driven you to reach it."

"Impressive. Intuitive and deducing." Sam complimented the young pre-teenager, making her blush slightly. "Yes, I was driven, there was an incident when I was… well, I was about fourteen at the time." Should she tell a twelve year old such stories? "I… am a Shanxi orphan, and I was never adopted due to my condition." Scott was about to blurt, but Sara smacked him in time, shaking her head no. "We had a caretaker that was doing something very wrong involving the girls in my orphanage, girls who were born with ailments, and a fertility drug."

"Son of a…" Alec Ryder's face grew very dark, and very murderous. "I remember hearing about that. Man wasn't even convicted because…" Ryder looked at her, and his face shifted. "There was only one witness to the whole ordeal, but her testimony was tossed because she didn't make for a credible witness."

"I'd like to add that I felt the Detective on the case was rather lacking in his efforts, too." Sam responded, feeling that old anger within her, what truly changed her life. "That… that's what made me want to be a cop. To be a voice for the voiceless and the defenseless. We were being… taken advantage of and the only thing that they did was remove the man from my orphanage. The crime went unpunished. Young women who were trusting those appointed to take care of us…" Sam had to choke it back, closing her eyes with a snap as she forced herself to be calm, not to give into that pain and anger from that incident. It wasn't easy talking about, not even to an adult, much less tweens. She held her breath for a long moment, focusing her mind, ignoring the emotions and released it when she had control a few moments later. She opened her eyes and noted how startled the kids looked, how sad Ellen looked, how mad Alec looked while the room filled with books and love was met with silence as eyes stared at her and no one was saying a word lids opening wider as pupils focused on her faces dropping in shock as mouths opened gaping holes that matched their eyes the little girl walked towards her her hand hand reaching out touching her arm…

…Touching her, Sam focused on the touch and her eyes snapped back onto Sara's. Focused on them.

"It's okay." The girl smiled, her face slightly saddened. "Our uncle has Autism, too."

"I… thank you." Sam shook her head and calmed her breathing and ignored everything that wasn't immediately in front of her, keeping her attention… limited. "That… was why I wanted to be a cop. Because of that. Because people deserve to be listened to, no matter who they are or what they have." Sara and Scott both nodded in unison, their eyes understanding. "I became a Marshal Deputy because the Alliance Frontier Marshal's were the only law enforcement agency that showed itself to be interested in me, the big obstacle being my age. Most police agencies want a candidate to be at least twenty-one, while I am nineteen."

"That worked out pretty well then, didn't it?" Scott smiled, obviously getting it. "The House of Horrors and Trail of Tears were supposedly discovered by you. It'd be still going if you hadn't showed up. That Jackal guy would still be free, too."

"The Battle of Therum wouldn't have happened, either." That came as a shock to the twins, though Alec immediately shook his head to that. He knew of Grissom's plan.

"The Batarians have been growing steadily worse in the past ten years, ever since we gained an Embassy and the Council let us keep the colonies we already had in the Attican Traverse and gave us borders that practically cut off Hegemony Space." Ryder protested, his voice calm but sure. He did work in the Diplomatic Security Services, so he had better and harder intel than she did. "Something like that was going to happen sooner or later, and probably when we least expected it. As painful as it is to admit it, I'd rather what happened on Therum be the situation; a host of people on top of their game and on the ball when the situation was discovered early on, rather than what happened to Mindoir. As bad as Therum was, it went well on the practical scale. Despite the losses of the Sailors and Marines, I don't doubt that many of them felt that the cause was worth it, and those that survived knew that those sacrifices were justified. I know it can hurt, but you won a victory that would have had many quaking in fear. You were there when the people needed someone to be there. Never doubt that." To that, Sam just nodded slowly, understanding Alec points, even agreeing with it. Yes, it did hurt to think of it at times, but they had been prepared and ready. If it had been somewhere else with a larger populace to cover and few defenders, the casualty rate would have been much, much worse. Or it could have easily been smaller locations like New Edmonton on Mindoir had been, galactic politics denying the Alliance the ability to react as it had happened in 2170 in the name of peace. No, those Marines knew what could happen, and would have probably agreed completely with Ryder; there was no better moment for humanity to stand up and show what they could do.

"Thank you." The Marshal said to the Pathfinder, dipping her head towards him, thankful to listen to someone who would know and understand, a Shanxi Vet who had endured far worse than she. "For inviting me to your home. For your help and encouragement. For… everything."

"Well," the older man smiled, "human lives matter."

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

Marshal Sam Collins woke up the next in the Ryder's guest room, really just a closet with a hide-away bed with some shelves set above the bed partition for storage. The bed hadn't been the most comfortable one she had ever slept in, but she appreciated the gesture all the same. Her other options had been to either rent a hotel room in the Human Wards with little knowledge of where she was going, or to test her supposed apartment that Centurion Magnus Nihlus Kryik and Strike Huntress Tela Vasir had secured her in the 1100 Block. Sam promised herself that she would check it out today when she got the chance, but she had some more important matters to attend to.

What she wanted to do was get to work.

She got changed out of her nightclothes after being told by Doctor Ellen Ryder that the shower was offered and available, getting into her causal clothing after feeling a bit better after the relaxing feel of warm water and cleaning herself after her travel from the Arc. Coffee was made, and breakfast was a simple but hearty affair; toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon, all coming pre-packaged and heated in the inverter microwave, ready in less than a minute. She was joined by Captain Alec Clancy Ryder at first at the breakfast nook, and then by Sara and Scott Ryder as well, the kids drinking fortified powdered orange drink instead of coffee. Thankfully, the coffee was real.

"So, what's on the schedule, Marse?" Ryder asked as he forked more eggs into his mouth, speaking before eating. The man had manners and decorum, and made sure his kids did the same. They had already been admonished about having elbows on the table, and Sam had to stop herself from chuckling about that. Ryder had already informed her last night that the Diplomatic Security Services would be letting himself be 'borrowed' by the Marshal for the next few weeks for local knowledge, expertise, and advice, all approved by Ambassador Anita Doyle. Honestly, she couldn't have asked for better than the Pathfinder.

"Office for rent, need a space to work from." Collins replied as she finished chewing her buttered toast. "So we're going to do what guys absolutely love to do; shopping." She smirked at Ellen, who looked rather bemused at that. "Then it's office furniture and computers. I've got a budget and things to order. Who knew running a kickstarter program would be so fun?"

"Makes me glad I had the Systems Alliance do the deciding and buying for me." Ryder commented dryly. "Is the SA shipping anything to you?"

"A few specialty items that I'm not going to find on the civilian markets." Collins had sent the request to the Alliance Federal Marshal Services for some of the items, knowing that she was going to be needing a much more comprehensive office than most out in the frontier. She was literally sitting in the heart of galactic civilization; she was going to need the equipment to run murder investigations and white-collared crimes at a level of sophistication that wouldn't be expected in, say, Demeter or Sirona. She had already put in the request with Staff Marshal Emilio Torres, who had promised to pass off any request through proper channels for her, knowing she would have her hands full. She wondered what Torres would think of a Full-Spectrum DNA Analyzer, a Microscopic-Detailed Data Collection Unit, DNA Collection Device, Fingerprint Scanning Equipment, and several manufacturing licenses to macrofabricate expendable investigative tools and items that she would need. She was literally building a Marshal's Office from the ground up with an already-invested population, as well as on foreign soil. She was literally in uncharted territory. She had lists of what she would need, and prioritized when she would need them. That, of course, was only a part of it.

What she really needed was Deputies. A lot of them.

Sam had been forwarded several potential hires from Earth Alliance Space on the possible recruitment of Deputies that might be willing to transfer (from various Marshal's Offices) or Officers from other jurisdictions (Police Departments and Sheriff's Departments on Earth, Global Bureau of Investigations for EarthGov, and even one from the ATFE and another from the Territory Rangers from Texas). She was being loaned Master Chief Petty Officer Stacy Valentino and Senior Chief Petty Officer Royce Mason from the Navy for an undisclosed period of time (years, likely) as well as Petty Officer First Class Jane Shepard until August, when Cadet Summer began in London. Sam knew those three, knew their work and efforts on Therum, as well as having training and experience on their sides as Systems Alliance Military Police. Having three trained MP's who were more use to dealing with drunk and obnoxious muscle-bound Marines who were trained in the art of hand-to-hand and firearms would be a boon, obvious muscle for patrols and incidences. But Sam need more than just meat; she needed investigators and detectives, technicians and researchers, administrators and secretaries. She was literally going to be running a full-sized Police Department in a highly-populated, condensed area surrounded on all sides by a foreign jurisdiction manned by non-humans.

The task, to say the least, was daunting.

Breakfast was finished as Alec and Sam got ready for their expedition, wearing their respective outing uniforms. Once again, Alec had his speeder jacket with its N-Level identifier while Sam wore her Blazer, her Glock Safe Arms Model 18C Machine Pistol in its shoulder rig under her blazer while Alec had his SOCOM Eagle Mk. VII under his own arm, both of them nodding their readiness as Ryder kissed his wife and hugged his kids before leaving, Sam thanking them for their hospitality.

Their first stop was a failed business store in the 0900 Block. The walk there wasn't bad, Sam and Alec using the main boulevards to move through the Human Wards as the Marshal watched people move to and from their destinations, life marching on as she saw businesses, residential, commercial, industrial, food-related, drink-related, and entertainment-purposes littering the boulevard. It was as different from the Market Square in Nova Yekaterinburg on Therum as Earth was different from Luna, real shops and businesses as oppose to shanty-stores being hounded by the Planetary Brotherhood of Teamsters and miners looking for some distraction from their hard labor existences. The Citadel was well-lit, temperature controlled, clean, and… it didn't have the feel of No'burg. Sam didn't see dozens of hard-faced leering men looking at her as both a piece of meat to fuck and a pig to dash her skull in, constant guard and vigilance needed in the Districts. No, here people were clean, dressed well, and looked for the most part content. It was a much different situation than No'burg, and Sam almost felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of children, little ones scampering about with their parents, younger than Sara and Scott. The sight of a smiling toddler had her almost wistful at the sight, and Alec noticed, probably knowing why she was so moved at the sight, both Revan and Therum. She almost jumped out of her skin from a circular station advertisement that called out her name, enticing 'Samantha' to check out the new Haliat Industries' 2176 Cipritine Ghost Contragravity Sports Flyer, the cylindrical advertisement post showing a holographic image of the sleek-and-fast Turian sports flyer zooming through the advert. That had Ryder laughing.

She also passed at least three Citadel Security Services Patrols, a dozen Turians in each armed with Elanus Risk Control Services M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifles and wearing Elanus Risk Control Services' Duelist Armor, all colored in 'C-SEC' blue-n-black, fully armored and helmeted, a wide berth given to the stalking Officers as humans parted from their way, very quiet and cowed.

Reaching the 0900 Block hadn't been a chore, only a minor checkpoint separating the 0800 Block from the 0900 Block, manned by four Turians who seemed a little less zealous than their co-workers stationed at the Citadel Public Transportation Authority Lot where many people entered the Human Wards. Both she and Alec were scanned (after showing their credentials for possessing legal-to-carry firearms) and went through with little fuss or intimidation, and Sam wasn't enjoying the feeling of being on the 'other' side of the law. Still, she hadn't seen any brutality infractions or obvious intimidation issues yet, though she didn't doubt it would come up. There were many markings on walls, spray paint indicating what C-SEC and Turians in general could do with themselves, to include light-board posters and announcements. More than a few brought up 'HUMAN LIVES MATTER' in big, bold letters. She wondered if there was something more to it than just graffiti, and when she looked to Ryder, he noticed that she was looking at it, and silently gestured that they would talk about it later; probably in a place of privacy where they couldn't be overheard. He had mentioned those exact words last night, and she wondered if there was something going on, something she wasn't privy to. Her two months on Therum hadn't inflicted onto her a great deal of the going-ons of the Citadel and its human populous, though stories and highlights came up on Alliance News Network on occasion.

The 0900 Block (Lower Ward) was much like the 0800 one; residency buildings buttressed with shops, locales, businesses, employment, and people. Hologram adverts decorated the sides of the walls as light-form displays arched over the boulevards for commercials, public service announcements, and news updates. There was a general soundtrack that was playing Asari-styled Muzak, the hustle-and-bustle of the citizenry thankfully drowning out most of the choir-and-electronica timber tones. Sam consulted her minimap on her Apple Corps iTool and found that the first location was just around the block, in the 0820 Section, right off the main boulevard. She looked up to find the location once reverifying the address, seeing what appeared to be an empty storefront sandwiched between (of all things) a convenience store and a pawnshop. Whatever had been in between before had bellied-up for whatever reason, despite being in between two high-trafficked businesses. Perhaps… robbery?

"Nice location." Alec grunted as he looked around, seeing that, while there weren't exactly 'shadier' streets on the Citadel, there was definitely a shadier feel to it, only twenty meters away from the main boulevard down a fairly decent-sized PedWay heading towards another smaller intersection. "This is the Catfish Market."

"They sell fish here?" Collins asked, a little surprised. She certainly didn't see any grocery stores or seafood restaurants reaching the location.

"Um… no." The N-Level Sailor looked faintly embarrassed. "I guess you're not into ExtraNet Dating Sites like CitadelSingles or ManyFishInTheSea." The Marshal was aware that such things existed, but who had the time? Or the inclination? Besides, that was the perfect way to get scammed or one's identity stolen… fishing for something with a big mouth? "'Catfishing' means to look for a date while… misrepresenting yourself." The older man replied, wincing slightly, obvious uncomfortable with something. "Usually, it's posting a different picture that isn't yourself. The Catfish Market got that name because when the Citadel Allocation Authority decided to opening up the next Block for humanity, they said they would do a better job than what the 0800 Block ordeal was. The Market itself was… mostly a vagrant area of Quarians that they stuffed there to keep them out of the way."

"Charming." The Marshal replied dryly as the two of them approached the office, the door showing a small red holographic icon in the middle, to indicate that it was closed and locked, and frosted Plexiglas shutters had been adhered to the two large storefront bay windows to either side of the door in the middle. "Well, can't see much from the outside, and the landlord isn't here."

"'Slumlord' may be more apt." Ryder folded his arms across his chest as he looked around the neighborhood, eyeballing the secondary boulevard and intersection that the business stood in front of, the trafficked route much more narrow than that of the main boulevard, perhaps only six meters across. There were people walking along its path, but Sam noticed that the clientele that were going into the convenience store and the pawn shop looked a good deal shabbier and less well-to-do. So, this is what a poor section looked like on the Citadel. She saw another graffiti sign announcing that human lives mattered, where a group of people conglomerated, looking apparently unemployed as they gossiped and squabbled amongst themselves, older than teenagers but younger than middle age. Perhaps mid-twenties. Sam briefly wondered what the employment market looked like on the Citadel for the average human. "I think this is her coming up." Collins' eyes immediately snapped to the person in question, and she almost wondered how Ryder might know, the woman in question wasn't what she would expect. Dressed neither well nor sensibly, the dumpy-looking woman was an older one, perhaps young forties, with an interesting hairstyle in which one side was shaved to the scalp, and a portion of one temple was braided to the scalp in corn rolls while the top was teased and styled in some poufy manner; it did not look well. The manner of attire was a bit circumspect as well; the woman wore a shirt that declared her favorite philosophy in life (i.e. red bold letters suggesting 'Go Fuck Yourself') with tight black yoga pants. How Ryder suspected this was the woman was beyond her save that she was openly carrying a datapad cover that looked nicer than her entire wardrobe.

"You Samantha?" The woman asked as she walked right up to the both of them, the woman's brown eyes touching them both before directing themselves to Collins. "'Cuz I ain't got all day for you and your dad, sweetheart." That had Alec looking amused while Sam did her best not to sigh out loud. Charm school had not been in the woman's repertoire, evidently.

"I am Samantha." She nodded her head once simply, the woman snorting as she did an once-over on her, standing in an impatient stance. She was obviously unimpressed, and the feeling was mutual. "I and my partner here are here to look into renting this location." She used her chin to point out the closed-down location between the convenience store and the pawnshop.

"What for?" The woman asked, her tone smarmy and suspect, her eyes narrowing as she fished out a Vape electronic smoking apparatus from (no kidding) the inside of her shirt, undoubtedly stashed in her bra. Sam wasn't impressed with the tactic or lack of decorum.

"Business venture." Collins replied quickly and professionally, not about to tell this obviously less-than-amicable woman that she was an Alliance Federal Marshal that was about to use her office space to run a law enforcement agency out of it. "Both my partner and I are in the market for a starter spot to run our office out of." The line of questioning, while not unrealistic, was coming from someone of a rather dubious nature. Unless the rentable space came with jail cells, Sam wasn't likely to get it, but she might as well look at it and get an idea what to expect.

"Y'all ain't gonna run some interactive porn studio out of it, are ya?"

"W…what?"

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

The woman's name was Janice, and Marshal Sam Collins was not under the impression that she was going to like the woman or enjoy her company. She liked the office space even less.

The office space proved to be small and rather unwieldy; it was just over seven hundred and sixty square meters in size, and shaped like the classic rectangle with two separate offices in the back, left and right, obviously for administrative and storage purposes in mind. The problem was that the 'average' space an Officer of the Law needed to perform their duties in an adequate amount of space was seventy-six square meters; that was the 'average'. Unless Sam was looking forward to running a Marshal's Office with nine Deputies or less, the space wouldn't suffice. There would be no extra rooms or bays for such things as a forensics lab, holding and processing, a squad tactical room, interview/interrogation rooms, or even necessary lockable rooms such as the armory or special equipment. There was also no kind of security to the place unless she wanted to add the expense of installing or macrofabircating a huge Plexiglas wall in front of the door and chopping some of the squad room/dispatch office off. Sam looked to Captain Alec Ryder and subtly shook her head no to indicate her thoughts on the location. She didn't care about the apparent seediness of the neighborhood, as just having a law enforcement agency in the area would probably drastically change that inside of a week. No, she wasn't about to kickstart some half-baked Marshal's Office from the inside of a cubbyhole. It was going to cost Credits no matter what she did, and she'd rather spend Credits once on something satisfactory than waste a lesser amount on something less-than-adequate. Five minutes into the 'show', and Sam was walking out the door with Alec in tow, leaving Janice behind them as the woman huffed out.

The second place was in the 1300 Block (Sky Wards), right off the main boulevard. There was actually a 'park' nearby with trees that were from Eden Prime, and an elementary school that was equally close-by. The owner of the location, an older gentleman named Paul, was better dressed than the previous woman, wearing a civilian-oriented suit robe popular on the Citadel, mainly in somber hues. The location itself was a former restaurant of some kind that measured an impressive fifteen hundred plus square meters, with more than enough room to separate areas for departments inside the Office. There was even a receiving door in the back, meaning her Deputies could exit without using the public entrance like they had back in No'burg.

The front of the restaurant, obviously the former dining area, was quite large, easily accommodating what could be a lobby, a squad room, holding cells, public conference rooms, and public-use water closets. The rear end, what had been the kitchen area and storage area, along with two small offices for the restaurants' management and file room, was equally just as nice, able to incorporate a forensics lab, jail cells, an armory, an investigators' suite, and records room without being cramped. With this kind of space, Sam could have twenty Deputies without issues, starting up a Marshal's Office from there and working on getting something built hopefully later on to incorporate a full compliment of a full agency of law enforcement as oppose to a small sub-station, but it would do nicely as a starting point. Paul walked them through the former restaurant, explaining fixtures and amenities to both Alec and herself as the N-Level Sailor looked around as well, obviously just as impressed as she with what he saw. While he might not know the logistics needed to run such an Office, she didn't doubt that he might be comparing it to what the Diplomatic Security Services Corps had back in the Embassy, getting a crash course on what it must have taken to create such an endeavor. While she had several more places of interest that she had appointments to, Sam already knew that she was unlikely to find a place better than this. She looked to Ryder and smiled.

Until she heard the rent. It was half her operational budget, per month! No wonder the restaurant failed.

The third place, stationed in the 1250 Block (Mid Wards), was an almost immediate write-off once the proprietor of the former small-scale storage facility let them in, Nancy apologizing for running a few minutes late as she fumbled with the access key. The office/lobby was a cramped room dominated by a singular desk, barely big enough to qualify as a bedroom. The facility behind the small office was equally unimpressive; the ten storage rooms were of the same size as the narrow building save that there was a corridor running down the length of it, with ten small lockable rooms. Even if they took down the walls, it would still be a narrow space with a too-small lobby. Sam had no issues thanking the woman for her time and declining the offer. It wouldn't have made a good Pit.

The fourth place was an almost-immediate bust as well; it was inside a small Arcology building, what was once a small gift shop for those living in the building and leaving through the plaza. The Arcology was in the 1190 Block (Scows) in the Backers; the area near the back-end of the Level where it was nearest the Citadel's Hull. The space itself wasn't much more than a living room sized tenant meant to sell small sundries and snacks for passing inhabitants. Besides, the Arcology itself was an obvious ghetto-styled building that obviously suffered lack of maintenance from whoever was suppose to keep up with the day-to-day routines of keeping the building fully functional. Lights flickered in certain places, there were busted pieces of equipment scattered along the walls and their remains on the floor, and the walls themselves were decorated with obvious gang markings and graffiti. She knew she'd be seeing the inside of this Arcology quite a bit just by the looks of it. Ryder was equally unimpressed with the potential Office, the Arcology, and the landlord, a scruffy-looking gentleman with red-veins decorating his corneas; the telltale sign of a Sander. Sam was almost half-tempted to arrest him on the spot and use the gift shop as a treatment clinic by forcing the man through Red Sand withdrawals to gain information from him; eyebrow-raising, but perfectly legal since it wasn't considered coercion or torture, no matter what the weaning user might think. She opted not to, considering she had the man's contact information through CWardsList and could come back at a later time for a little 'encouragement' in a cleaner lifestyle. They walked out with nary a word said.

The fifth and final place for the day was… adequate. It was a stand-alone in the 1110 Block (Mid Ward), just butting the 'roof' of the Upper Wards, known as Glass Ceiling; when one stepped outside, they could see artificial sky. If Sam hadn't seen her other options, she wouldn't have even consider it considering the layout of the location. It wasn't one place but two; a tech-investment firm had joined together with an electronic supply store for an obvious hand-in-hand partnership that had suffered the bad luck of an embezzling manager who lined his pockets with profits and let the venture fail, leaving unemployed workers behind and clueless while he settled on a human colony somewhere in the Hades Nexus Cluster with a trophy wife and a retirement fund. Each 'side' was approximately six hundred plus square meters, which would give her a fair size squad room, a decent lobby, and a few other necessities in the supply store side while converting the tech firm into the operations side of the Office.

Already Sam was beginning to populate the hollowed stores in her mind; a lobby with two water closets to one side, and two public-use rooms on the other, with a desk partitioning a squad room with at least ten desks containing monitors, probably needing to be shared by the Deputies. As it was a supply store, there was a good-sized supply room in the back that could be used for containment; jail cells, interrogation room, armory, files and records, and evidence. The other side could host the dispatch office, an inspectors' office, a tactical/conference room, rooms for supervisors and herself, and a small forensics lab. The owner, surprisingly a Salarian who seemed to be a bit of a real estate mogul on the Citadel, was offering the locations together in a deal; the stores had been integrated, and Dortok Iral had no want to incur the expense of going through the electrical and connectivity systems of the stores and dismantle them without getting some recompense for it. While not as large as the former restaurant, the space would suffice into creating a Marshal's Office with at least twelve to fifteen Deputies to start off. The rent was reasonable, too, a contractional lease that lasted at least two years, and wasn't even a tenth of her monthly operational budget. There was work that would need to be done, obviously, and contractors and construction would be needed, which would probably eat into her starter funds. Not to mention furniture, computers, lockers, equipment, armor…

Before she knew it, Collins realized that she was already picturing it all in her mind; a desk manned by a Senior Deputy, a Sergeant-of-the-Watch running the lobby while Deputies worked the squad room for assignments, reports, intelligence, and BOLO's. She could see the desk placements now, with monitors attached being worked by men and women, a supervising Deputy making sure that the correct paperwork was filled out and completed correctly, the office being over… there, near where the door connecting the electronic supply story and the tech firm laid. She could picture it now is if it were happening right now, hearing the voices of Deputies talking and telling stories while some citizen comes in with some issue that needs resolving, the Duty Deputy inquiring while tasking out one of the patrollers to address it while on the tech firm side, Detectives worked the cased that weren't solved by the patrollers, collecting and reviewing reports, interviews and evidence for clues and indications, interviewing suspects and witnesses in segregated rooms…

"Hey." Alec brought her attention back to the now, and Sam quickly shook out of her reverie, looking at the Captain as he looked at her with… caring eyes. "I could see you dreaming it. Why stop now?"

"Indeed." Collins replied, taking a deep breath and remembering that moment; a fully running and operational Marshal's Office, a day like any other, Deputies sworn to serve and protect both people and property. Why stop there? She looked to Dortok and smiled.

"We'll take it."

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

Contract signed and first-and-last transferred to the Salarian landlord's business account, Marshal Sam Collins and Captain Alec Ryder went to a local restaurant to celebrate, Alec sending some pics and stills he had taken to his wife Ellen to update them on their progress while Sam herself had taken a few and sending them to Master Chief Petty Officer Stacy Valentino, Senior Chief Petty Officer Royce Mason, and Petty Officer First Class Jane Shepard. The Naval Military Police Officers would be arriving at the end of the week when their shore leave was over, and she wanted to keep them in the loop to let them know what they would be walking into, as well as keeping in contact with her friends. Sam indulged in a Chicken Caesar Salad and a glass of sweetened iced tea while Alec ordered fish and chips with tartar sauce and a pint of imported Irish stout. The restaurant, McMenamins, was a traditional pub/brewery that did its best to incorporate the old-school pub feel having lacquered wood furniture and bar, glass receptacles, and an atmosphere that was geared towards communal hospitality. Sam found herself enjoying both the location and the food as Alec put down his foot in picking up the bill, the older man as stubborn as a mule when it came to being a gentleman. Collins let it slide (this time) and determined herself to enjoying the meal and the feeling of success. It was after lunch by the time they finished, and more shopping was required. Thankfully, the Human Wards were set up like any metropolitan city, and almost everything she needed to acquire could be found traveling the length of the main boulevard to visit its many shops and businesses. Sam had a grocery list of items and equipment that she needed to get for the new up-and-coming Marshal's Office, and she was literally sitting in the best location in the galaxy when it came to electronics and tech.

As she told Alec earlier that morning, they were going shopping.

The first stop was to a local furniture store more oriented for office and business-related purchases than domicile, and together, Sam and Alec perused the catalog on the kiosk of the store before finding several options that both thought suitable to their needs, the Pathfinder working in a capacity similar to a Marshal's Office and knowing what kinds of office equipment he found favorable in the past. The grocery list for office furniture was extensive; personnel desks, office-oriented chairs, datapad filing cabinets, personnel lockers, tables, storage cabinets, shelving units, and lightboards.

The second store she went to was a Solar Electronics computer and electronics supply store. Sam quickly perused the ordering kiosk for what she knew to be the basics; datapads, styluses, GUI-interfaced SmartGloves for working on several stations and terminals, parity-time symmetry inductive charging stations for OmniTools, two separate servers, datapads and other personal electronic devices, and computer terminals with standard holographic monitors and Haptic-sensored input devices such as keyboards, hand-to-screen detection, and eye-sync'ing display. Collins stopped at getting ten as a starter, knowing that it would take time for her to hire Deputies, but at least having somewhere for the first several to work with the corresponding equipment necessary for them to execute their duties. The visit to the office furniture store and the computer store burned through a good quarter of her budget, and including the first-and-last, Sam was glad that she decided to keep it simple but effective for the time being; who was to say what the next few weeks would look like?

The next store she went to was a misnomer; a 'tactical equipment' store. Considering that it was located on the Citadel where the average citizen was not allowed to possess any kind of physical weapon, lethal or non-lethal, nor electronic weapon, like Apps intended to cause harm or duress, the idea of a tactical equipment store seemed like a joke. But humanity, being humanity, loved its MilTech and LETech, and getting basic equipment that skirted but didn't break CitLaw was easily done. Both the Marshal and the Pathfinder went clothing shopping first, finding black-styled RipStop cargo pants and black pleather combat boots in many styles and sizes, ranging from historic to comfort. There were military-oriented shirts and paraphernalia to be had, as well as law enforcement-oriented as well, and Sam found it disgustingly easy to purchase 'MARSHAL' decals and clothing placards for any necessary equipment that might be needed and identification vital. She even found ballistic bodysuits (Protective Posture Level-I, rated at five hundred Joules) for sale in several sizes, meant to stop light-caliber rounds like her 5 gram Glock, though Ryder's 7.5 gram SOCOM would go right through. She did see ablative paint-coated polyurethane arm guards and shin guards meant to do the same for the limbs, adding an extra level of ballistic protection, as well as that for slashing, piercing, and bludgeoning, and she inquired the Pathfinder the merits of possibly purchasing a few of those for raids and serving warrants. He suggested adding a similar version tactical vest and helmet as well, obviously thinking of a more tactical approach, like a response team. Sam went ahead and purchased four complete sets, adding PlastiCuffs and UltraFire's 8000LM CREE XML T6 LED Flashlight to the list. Collins didn't doubt she would be visiting the tactical equipment store in the future for miscellaneous needs and replacements.

The last place she went shopping wasn't a store, but a general contractor company known as Weiss Construction. While Sam knew how to connect computers and even how to create a Stand-Alone Network, creating an office-like department that was up-and-running as oppose to cobbled together with guesses and wishes. The contractor in question was experienced in both setting up offices and connecting various IT suites for modern offices, and she knew that, despite the price of the contractor and the several workers that the man would have under him, the cost was well worth it in the long run. Police departments throughout the galaxy ran off of technology, and having an ad hoc that could be faulty and riddled with problems was self-defeating, so Sam was determined to have it done right the first time. She even indicated to the man that this wouldn't be the first time she would be needing the services of someone to install equipment and setting up an office environment, and that a job well done would guarantee a repeat customer. The price was a little higher than she wished, but his work also came with warrantees towards damages during installation as well as satisfaction.

The contract came with the price of expected PlastiGel, CeramiGel, and MetalGel usage, the company bringing its own macrofabricating unit with a plethora of licenses attached for creating a literally hundreds of configurations and needs for offices and suites. The man tasked for the job, Robert Hawthorne, was a licensed Civil Engineer who would look at the space available as well as the requirements necessary, integrating the blueprints, schematics, power grid, and attachment suites of her new Office and build a construction layout design to maximize use and space; efficiency was key in any environment, whether it was a data-entry company or law enforcement. The man himself was an older one with years of experience under his belt in a wide variety of locations, and Collins was amused to see that the man was actually responsible for no less than two Marshal's Offices in the past; one in New Thebes, Anhur and the other in New Karnak, Yamm. He gave a tentative deadline of five days from start to completion, knowing of the location but never having seeing it before. Hawthorne promised to drop into the new location the next day, after the time of the scheduled delivery arrivals of the equipment that Collins had bought for her Office so he could start coming up with ideas and getting to work. Sam liked the man's competency and confidence, and shook his hand before she and Alec left.

"That was a good day." Captain Alec Ryder said after leaving Weiss Construction, set up in the Upper Wards of the 1000 Block, Sam having touched a decent portion of the Human Wards during the day looking at the various potential locations for her Office and the shopping spree. She would be going through almost half of her monthly-allocated budget, but that was okay, since starting up was always expensive. She wasn't so naive to think that she would have an Office up and running by the end of the week with everything she would need, as purchases and needs would be a constant and continuous thing with the advance of technology, techniques, and various avenues that criminals would use to avoid being prosecuted. They would hardly be set up for white-collared crime or even green-collared crimes; the general name in use for dealing with mercenaries, bounty hunters, soldiers of fortune, and others who used the semi-legal services available throughout the galaxy to commit atrocities and vile acts and claim that they were 'under contract', and thus the company or patronage of the person who hired them was liable. She was at least becoming geared towards the more pedestrian crimes; blue-collared workplace violence and acts crime, domestic violence and infractions, smuggling and customs fraud, and the Big Three; murder, larceny, and assault. It might be some time before she started receiving some of the specialty equipment that the Marshal Services and the Global Bureau of Investigations would be loaning her, so it would be back to old-fashioned clue-hunting and fact-busting, which Sam didn't mind at all. Cops had been solving crime since before the days of the advent of fingerprints, DNA-spectrometers, and chemical-analysis labs, and a good many didn't need such marvels of technology to solve. Besides, it would give her first Deputies a sense of accomplishment to work their brains to truly solve crimes, using intellect and grunt work against those who deigned to break the law.

"Agreed." Collins replied, feeling a strong sense of satisfaction within herself and what she accomplished today. She had expected it to take longer, honestly, trying to find a good location that would be useable for her first Marshal's Office, knowing that it would be unlikely that she would fine a singular place big enough to house the required amount of law enforcement personnel for the population of the Human Wards' size. Two hundred was the target number of Deputies that would be needed for a minimal, and Sam had to realistically accept that she'd likely have perhaps a dozen or so within a month if she were lucky, and that was if she hired people with prior law enforcement experience. She wasn't about to let any ole' riffraff into her Office only to see calls of excessive force, brutality, corruption, extortion, and realistic intimidation to make her job that much more difficult. "I'm wondering if I should look at my apartment and see if its ruined or not. It was decorated by a Maiden." That had the N-Level Sailor snort as they walked towards a light-rail station that were for mass public transportation needs heading not only through the individual Sections of the Block, but also through the Human Wards themselves (a separate train running through the length of the Zakera Arm had a singular station in the Human Wards, policed heavily by C-SEC, evidently). Her apartment was located in the Mid-Wards of the 1040 Block, which Alec called 'Taxes' due to the similarities to the annual tax form all Systems Alliance citizens were required to fill out. The apartment building itself, named 'Shangri-La Tower', had her snorting at the name as she looked up at the thirty-story building in question, seeing that it, at least, seemed in good condition.

"What is it with apartment buildings or complexes and having celestial or fantastical names?" The Marshal asked the Pathfinder, looking to Ryder for a moment before entering through the lobby of the building. "You live in Elysium Fields. I live in Shangri-La Tower. We must have past a dozen named after some heavenly aspect."

"Huh, never thought about it before. Never noticed, either." The N-Level Sailor replied, scratching at his chin. "Obviously, no one wants to live in a place called 'Shithole Palace' or 'What-a-Dump'." That had Collins chuckling as they walked through the lobby, a simple motif ran by an automated robodrone greeter that automatically scanned them with a microsecond flash of light and welcomed 'User: Samantha Collins and Guest: Alec Ryder' to the residency. The elevator lift had four available options to take, Sam selecting one after reconfirming which floor and apartment number was hers thanks to a message to her personal EN-Box from Centurion Magnus Nihlus Kryik. The apartment number was '2905', so she assumed that it meant that she lived on the twenty-ninth floor. The both of them entered into the lift and Collins waived her Apple Corps iTool at the panel, getting access to the darkened screen as it turned green and the Haptic display lit up. The twenty-ninth floor was selected by her as the lift began to ascend, the floor counter going quickly as Collins and Ryder waited, listening to more human-oriented Muzak that sounded as if it came from an ancient video game as the lift finally halted its progress at the twenty-ninth floor a minute and a half later. The doors parted open as Sam left the lift and found herself in a sparse corridor that was carpeted thinly and had light brown coloring on its walls. The first door leading to an apartment was a good ways away from the lift, with one across from it, numbered '2901' and '2902'. It took almost half a minute of walking to reach the next set, and Sam had a sinking feeling that Nihlus hadn't skimped on getting her an apartment despite being a single woman. '2903' and '2904' went by and she looked to the Pathfinder with an apologetic look, having seen his own apartment with four people living in it. Just the apparent size, without her even looking inside yet, suggested that the apartments might be three times the size of the Ryder's. They finally reached the next set of doors, and the Marshal saw that there was no more corridor afterwards; there was literally only six apartments to the floor, which was at least one hundred meters long, and perhaps one hundred meters wide. She did the math quickly in her head; thirty-three meters wide for three apartments, minus a meter for separation, and fifty meters long minus a meter and a half for the corridor. If that were true… she would have a fifteen hundred square meter apartment, fifteen hundred and fifty-two, to be exact! That wasn't an apartment, that was practically an executive penthouse suite! How the hell was she suppose to afford something like that!

"I must apologize up front." Sam winced as she reached the door labeled '2905', seeing the access panel but not moving to unlock the pneumatically-sealed door, turning to Alec. "A friend of mine got me this apartment, and I have no idea what's beyond this door save that he commented that the color scheme was akin to someone having beaten a varren to death in it." She had never seen a varren in real life, the native-born scavengers of the Krogan home world of Tuchanka, looking something in between mongrel dogs that were fish-like in scale, eyes and certain species concerning its long, needle-like teeth. Now that she thought about it, she had no idea what color blood varren actually had. Perhaps it wasn't an unpleasant color. "And… an Asari Maiden may have furnished it. I have no idea what we're walking into, but the words 'Meld Nest' may have been used." That had the N chuckling as Sam sighed and ran her OmniTool over the access panel as the door's holographic lock icon turned from red to green, indicating that the door was now accessible. The Marshal took a deep breath and walked towards the door, letting it open automatically before her.

- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -

She brought the whole Ryder family over for a visit later that night, after dinner had been finished.

"Holy cow!" Scott Michael Ryder exclaimed enthusiastically as he dashed inside first, with Sara Elaine Ryder hot on his heels as the Ryder twins burst into the enormous condominium with exuberance. Captain Alec Clancy Ryder and Doctor Ellen Dana Ryder walked in next, hand-in-hand as the Doctor gasped as she walked inside with her husband at her side, the researchers' eyes undoubtedly going wide with the sight. Marshal Sam Collins was last, walking in and motioning for the door to close behind her with her Apple Corps iTool, pulling a small hover cart with groceries and essentials that she had gotten from a nearby grocery store, not wanting to have bare cupboards and refrigeration unit. The rentable conveyance slowly lowered to the floor as she turned off its electrodynaglide micro-repulsors so it wouldn't accidentally be knocked about as she turned to look at her apartment.

'Apartment' was a relative term; what she lived in was damn near palatal.

Centurion Magnus Nihlus Kryik and Strike Huntress Tela Vasir hadn't been very forthcoming with details about looking for a place for her during her time on Therum, only indicating that they had found a place for her, and had gone through the trouble of having it furnished. He had warned that a Maiden had done so, though Sam had no idea what to expect before. Guessing that Nihlus was Turian, was probably looking more towards how a Turian would furnish a nest than what a human would use in their home.

The apartment had been furnished fully. And tastefully so.

Yes, the apartment was huge (much too large, considering Sam had literally never owned a place of her own before), but Tela Vasir had filled the spaces with furniture, decorations, and additions that gave it a sense of livable serenity to it. The Marshal didn't know if the Asari understood Feng Shui, but one look around showed that someone had put a good deal of work and attention to the arrangements and details of the apartment. Never mind that she could literally host an amateur Earth Urban Competitive Combat League game in her living room with room for spectators, Tela had either figured out a way to use the space artfully, or had found someone who could do it for her.

At first, one might accidentally confuse the apartment for a small-scale botanical garden, a wide variety of plants of a variety of species and nativetology existing along the walls, raised on small, seat-able islands amongst the floor space, upon planters on shelves and even decorating the sills of windows. A wide array of tintable flexglass dominated one wall where Sam could get a view of not only the Mid-Wards heading towards the main boulevard, but also the artificial sky of the Citadel itself. Looking out the window would show her the Public Transportation X3M Contragravity Aircars in flight, as well as a variety of advertisements and light boards showing a variety of products as the adverts shifted and changed. Furniture was wood-based with cushions adhered to their designated locations, arranged in the lowered living room where a large coffee table dominated the space, and seats had been arranged around it, much like a conference area that was attuned towards comfort and relaxation. A holovision monitored was connected to a nearby wall, a large screen Panasonic SmartVision 5K UHD model that Sam didn't doubt was very expensive, along with (of all things) a connected gaming console that was thankfully of human make, a Microsoft X-Box Millennia ported to the HV. Scott was already drooling at the sight of the HV and X-Box, and with a nod from Ellen, she turned on the appliances from a wall station nearby, cleverly disguised along with the wood paneling wall that looked reminiscence of Japanese architecture, bamboo and strips of wood instead of wall paint.

Where as the living room had a very horticultural and contemporary feel to it, the kitchen was something else; very ultramodern. Sam had no idea what Tela was thinking when she either had installed (or likely, the apartment came with) what appeared to be very modern kitchen appliances, from an Asari-based refrigeration unit that literally kept track of amounts of products and expiration dates, to alerting her that she would need particular items when shopping and sending the alerts to her iTool, to a cooking apparatus that was suppose to be like a stove or an inductive microwave unit, but was shaped more like a slot that could cook food evenly at a variety of ranges, maxing out at 500 degrees Celsius. The countertops were of some grey-colored marble that must have been imported from somewhere (Sam suspected Thessia), and the cupboards and cabinets were of a pale wood that, by the hardened speckling contained in its grain, she figured might be from Palaven, considering the high-gain radiation having life evolve there for radiation-resistance and protection. There was a self-cleaning floor drone that would literally clean the kitchen for her, and the sink doubled as a dishwasher, closing off and entering an autoclave function that would blast the dishes with superheated water and mild microwaves for disinfection purposes. Sam had been impressed that the faucet's hot water activation handle produced hot water immediately and the temperature select option could be spoken so she wouldn't accidentally scald herself. Hell, the cold-water function delivered near-freezing water, too, at exactly one degree Celsius.

"I feel like I just walked into one of those remodeling ENetFlix shows after-the-fact." Ellen said slowly, her eyes still sweeping over everything as Sam felt pretty bad about inventing them in. Alec was a Captain in the Systems Alliance Navy, and Ellen was a researcher with Aldrin Labs, working their R+D Department. Even with Credits they both brought in, they probably couldn't afford something like this. Nihlus and Tela had gone all out, and Sam had already read the datapad that came with the apartment that explained the functionality of the apartment (to include its high-processing VI suite), as well as the message that Nihlus had left for her, explaining that the apartment was in her name, and leased to her for the next four years, paid for by a shell corporation that covered living expenses for SPECTREs. While she technically wasn't one yet, the fact that it had been approved had been telling. "My God, is there a waterfall in your apartment?"

"Yeah." Collins looked to the wall in question that served as the dining room, where one wall had indeed been converted into an auto-waterfall, complete with riverstones as its physical wall and a pool with actual small fish (she didn't recognize the species) living in it, the expense and luxury of it mind-boggling. She didn't even want to know how much a place like this went for per month. Probably more than the failed restaurant that she had looked at earlier. The dining room was in a class of its own, rather opulent with a grand dining table that seated ten(!) with classical-oriented furniture and a small chandelier hanging above the table with flickering lights that looked quite candle-like. Every part of the apartment was that way, a degree of either refinement or expense that had Sam's mind spinning. This was how the Asari lived? No wonder they were the first-among-equals in the galaxy! Sam didn't think every SPECTRE lived this way, but she wondered if the field agents had something similar to this, while the support and services staff had something was better than their kin, though nothing this fanciful. "You think this is something? You should see my bedroom. It's… unique." Alec was doing his best not to laugh, covering his mouth. His wife merely gave him a look that had him swallowing it. "An Asari Maiden decorated all this, so the bedroom… is geared towards a single Asari Maiden and all that it entails."

"Oh." The Doctor replied at first, her face blanking for a moment as she did her best not to show whatever she was feeling. "Oh…" The chuckle began in her belly and soon Ellen Ryder was laughing out loud in a good-natured manner, unable to hold back. "Brass poles?" She asked, referring to dancing poles that were common in gentlemen's clubs and other places of ill repute.

"No, but I think that might be the only thing left out, along with the dancing cages." Collins said, Alec too busy chuckling, his whole body shaking. He had already seen the monstrosity that was her bedroom, having to walk away quickly before laughing fully in her face when he had. Sam had just stared at it for a minute before figuratively 'slamming' the pneumatic door shut and doing her best to forget ever having seen it. She was rather glad Kryik had warned her, but no level of warning save pics and stills could have prepared her for what she had discovered. Seriously, who got a bed that was shaped like… that? Evidently, Asari and humans shared a good deal of anatomical similarities in that particular region of the body. Meldnest, indeed. If anyone else looked at it, they would arrest Sam for suspected sex crimes and mild torture. Who the hell installed a suspension rack in a bedroom, anyhow? She wasn't exactly sure what it was for, and she was definitely certain that she didn't want to know. There was a strange-looking couch that she only assumed was a melding couch, looking more like a very cushioned chaise lounge chair or couch that one might find in a Psychologists' Office, though Sam had quickly figured what the sanguine-colored piece of furniture was for. Sam went ahead and let the Doctor look at her expense as Sam decided to see how the kids were doing, completely immersed in some X-Box game that was evidently already pre-loaded into the gaming console, a third-person shooter video game about travelers discovering and exploring a new galaxy, fighting off non-Galaxy Way aliens. That had Sam snort as she watched Scott (playing a human soldier) running around with a shotgun while Sara (playing an Asari scientist) used her Biokinetics. The twins were completely immersed, and Alec watched the game as well, shaking his head. A minute or two later, Ellen came back with the largest grin Sam had ever seen on her face, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, that bedroom is something, alright." The Doctor said, shaking her head. "And whoever designed that bed? That only leaves one impression."

"Ugh! Terrible." Sam shook her head as well, ready to give Tela a rather scathing message later on. "The guest rooms are pretty normal, if a little gilded. But that… I'm going to kill Tela for that."

"Pity you don't have a boyfriend. You could have some rather interesting times with that." Ellen's eyes sparkled, making Sam's mouth drop. "You should have seen the room we rented on our honeymoon. A little more tame than that, but it was the Honeymoon Suite."

"Yeah, that's all I need; to give a Navy MP even more ideas. Jane's incorrigible as is." Collins replied, making Ellen's eyebrows rise at the comment.

---

Author's Note: I use a lot of current pop culture and 'futurize' it. CitadelSingles is actually borrowed from Mytel's The Spirit Of Redeption, but ManyFishInTheSea is warped from the PlentyOfFish dating app. ENetFlix should be obvious. Lightboards are either holographic billboards, or a drawing/writing electronic pad. And I'm not 100% certain if I got the definition of 'Catfish' correct, borrowed from the show of the same name about people misrepresenting themselves on dates with pics and allegations.

I wanted to delve a little bit into Sam's past because it will come up later. Having Pallin knowing the other side of the story (the Turian side) wasn't some gaff picking a canon character. I picked him specifically for a reason; a by-the-books Turian who somehow ends up rescuing a human child. This won't show up for a while, but it ties in.

While I could have made the Spaceport more futuristic, it still has an infestation of Starbucks. They are fucking everywhere. And I live in Seattle. They're fucking everywhere twice.

Captain Alec Ryder: Somehow, mine ended up looking like half-Cro Magnon, with a thick brow, broad flat nose, and thick lips. Still, making him the Pathfinder anyhow (he was on the first ship out, after all, and someone had to walk on those planets, right?) makes sense. And he wore a motorcycle-styled jacket in Andromeda, which I might make mention why. The Ryder family is to show him as a family man, and I wasn't impressed with Ryder Sr.'s demeanor. This was a guy who defied Council law and threw away his career for his wife; that sounds like deep devotion to me. To have his kids say that he 'wasn't there' seemed… pale. His middle name, Clancy, comes from his voice actor, Clancy Brown.

SOCOM Eagle Mk. VII - The is the N7 Eagle, which I more identified with the SOCOM Mk.23, a .45 caliber pistol with threaded barrel for a silencer, integral laser sight, and selector to keep the slide from activating with a round fired. The Mk.23 is an actual Real-Life Weapon, and can be found in the Metal Gear Solid series, used by both Solid Snake and Raiden. The Mk. VII is a machine pistol, like it is in ME3MP and Andromeda.

Silver Medal and Minute Rice - I written a blurb or two on possible Andromeda FF's, and these were the nicknames I came up with for the twins Scott and Sara. Scott's 'Silver Medal' for coming second in the race, and Sara's 'Minute Rice' for the length of time she was born first; long enough to make minute rice. Twins are like that.

Alec is a FCW Vet, as Sam is an orphan of the same conflict. Considering how big a deal the FCW was with next to no information about it, I got to paint a little bit about it. Most of what is known are tidbits and comments, pictures from the comic book Mass Effect: Evolution, and a rather short blurb from the Codex. I assume, as a lush Garden World, Shanxi would have been quickly colonized, with a population even into the millions in 8 years. When the Turians first attack, I imagine an overwhelming response (like America's response to both Pearl Harbor and September 11th). But first contact with an enemy is always the worst and the bloodiest. See the Battle of Dunkirk for an idea.

Venari Pallin - C-SEC Executor in Mass Effect. Said to be a 30-year member of C-SEC in 2183, but sometimes we… round things to impress people. There is no hard data suggesting that Pallin actually joined C-SEC directly in 2153, and a four-year difference over such a long period of time can be glossed over. So Pallin (like many others, such as Ambassador Orinio of the Turian Embassy) is a Relay 314 Vet in this story.

The Ryders are canonically twenty-two in 2185/2819. As this is a decade prior, they are twelve. And a double-handful.

Soy Protein Extract, Beef-Flavored - Yep, sounds like some Godawful shit. Like the crap the military fed us (Army, not the Air Force rats. Jimmy Deans came with soda. We had… powder. And a piece of bread hard enough to throw like a ninja star and kill a man).

I couldn't find when the first Implant and Amp were created (the L1 and whatever the Amp was, probably a Conatix) but I know that BAaT School began in 2160 by Conatix Industries on Gagarin Station.

Inverter Microwave - Microwaves heat food by 'agitating' polarization in molecules, exciting them into heating the food. Unfortunately, the transformer that does this does so in a cycle, going from 100% power to 0% power and back again. An Inverter sends steady power (50% is 50% the whole time) that heats evenly and in a shorter period of time, as well as no 'cold spots'. This is commonly accepted as the 'next-step' in microwaves, and I didn't want to create the Star Trek Replicator for FutureTek. The whole meal coming pre-packaged makes sense, since I didn't see too many dairy farms on the Citadel the last time I visited :)

Haliat Industries 2176 Cipritine Ghost Contragravity Sports Flyer - This is a joke I made on myself; in Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, this is the very model that Tela Vasir 'borrows' from the Hesperiidae Hotel with 2nd Lieutenant Jane Shepard to chase down Carter Burke after an assault on the 343 Mobile Infantry and Team Dingo. Don't know what I'm talking about? Go read this TOP 5! story in the Mass Effect/Aliens Crossover folder! (Yes, I pulled an EA and advertised myself)

Muzak - Mostly associated with elevator music, though the Muzak Industries that dominated the 'easy listening' genre for decades didn't actually sell to elevators. Huh.

The Police Station - I looked up blueprints and resources off the internet on the idea of a police station, and it is amazing to think what is put into a police station. Even a small one boasts holding cells for both genders, bathrooms, conference rooms, locker rooms, and even small gyms. This isn't even including maintenance bays and parking for squad cars! Sam's failure to find a suitable Office was to highlight this, as most police stations are either built with the town, or are zoned out and built from the ground up.

McMenamins - A real-life family-owned craft brewery business/restaurant in the Pacific Northwest. Love their Terminator Stout.

GUI - Graphical User Interface, a nice and pretty term that equals… WINDOWS! Seriously, who of us are old enough to remember DOS? Command-Line Interface, typing everything in with that cute *C:help!* command? Programming still relies heavily on CLI, be it source code, web page, and even *gasp* video game development. If I had to work on a computer that was as old as I am (era 1982) I'd probably die of embarrassment and head-scratching. Does this mean Tali has a HackApp? Hmm…

Parity-Time Symmetry Inductive Charging Station - Wireless charging pad that can charge up to a meter away from the station. This is literally cutting-edge technology IRL, being studied and R+D'ed in Stanford U. as we speak by Shanhui Fan and team. We're still working on it, as so far we can get a LED light bulb powered without connection, so… a few Watts at best. Still… we're getting there! (Crack that EV Air Charge!) Quantum Mechanics rock!

Hand-to-Screen Detection - What Virtual Reality does when you wear gloves, but without the gloves or that big clunky thing on your face.

Eye-Sync - I've read about a few prototypes where when you look at an 'object' on your screen, it puts it up front and minimizes the others, letting someone work efficiently without using a mouse or touch-screen. Imagine typing, looking at where you need to go… and the cursor goes to it. SCIENCE!

UltraFire's 8000LM CREE XML T6 LED Flashlight - A Real-Life Flashlight, 8,000 luminous (candlepower). This is something you can use to light up just about everything within a quarter-mile, easily, blinding people. Which is why they tried making superlum flashlights illegal last year.

Collins' Apartment - more of a light-infused, airy version of Shepard's Apartment in Tiberius Tower.

Panasonic SmartVision 5K UHD - I WANT ONE! And the hoverboard I was promised by Michael J. Fox. Get it on, science!

Microsoft X-Box Millennia - Gaming Consoles still exist in the future. We all can't have Steam Accounts, after all.

The video game I describe is Mass Effect: Andromeda. Scott is seriously playing himself, while Sara has Peebee.

Meldnest - Asari can be into some kinky freaky shit. And the bed is indeed shaped like that. And a suspension rack is for suspending oneself, for those who like… dangling from chains for some reason. I don't get it. (Kudara, you asked.)