Excitement bubbled in Shiro's form, tapping a hand on his leg as the shuttle rumbled. The whine of the engines died down after a thunk, but he was upright before the aide permitted him to stand. Wincing from his protesting stump, he grabbed his luggage while the rest of the passengers stood. Thanks to his head start, he was the first one out of the hatch when it hissed open, the muted cabin getting a wave of noise from the hangar. Tools at work, distant chatter.

A child's excited cry.

"Hey Kyo!" Shiro hobbled ahead to pick up his daughter, who sprinted into his arms like the bundle of joy she was. "You're getting so big!"

He stifled a wince as he picked her up, smiling when his son gave a hug on his leg, with Aina being last by lurching to squeeze him.

The family buzzed in excitement, more animated than the rest of the returning staff, although far from the most relieved. Sanders greeted a young lady who wormed her way up to him, causing the larger man to blush. Grissom strode to a Marine who gave a status check. Healy met with his friends and a girlfriend, delivering a smooch that was heard throughout the bay. Hickam traded barbs as he scurried off with a female friend, leaving Karla and Nina by their lonesome, at least until the latter's father approached to hug her.

Hanging back from the reunion, Sayla crossed her arms while leaning on the wall. Manswell was busy with talks about acquiring more tanker ships from the turians (purchased instead of gifted), and with the other ministers occupied with keeping the colonies running, it came down to her to investigate how the trainers were doing. Or so she told her assistant when he suggested he could go instead.

Truthfully, Sayla just wanted to speak to the Turian coming down the steps. Standing up to approach him, she tracked Cincannato signing a datapad for his own assistant, sending him back into the shuttle as she walked to his side. He was by himself. There was no Primarch or Commodore to defer to. Good, she could make her request in peace.

"Minister Mass, greetings." The translator rendered a perfunctory message; Sayla had been picking up a few words of plebitu, but she was a long way from being conversational. According to reports they submitted, Shiro and Hickam were semi-fluent by now, as much as humans could be despite the differing mouth structures.

"Captain. I trust you're doing well." Sayla nodded, turning upon hearing a boy being hoisted by his father. Not Shiro this time. Healy was planting a toddler on his shoulder and laughing.

"I am, thank you. I assume you heard I wish to greet the new human pilots?" He walked after Sayla when she turned, maintaining a strict pace distance behind her while she trekked to the elevator.

"I did, hence why I'm escorting you today. Although that's not the only reason." Sayla closed the doors once he was in, punching in the code that took them to a tram station. "I've heard some… rumors about the war's progress lately."

"Ah, I understand. That krogan fleet has gone to ground in backwater systems. It hasn't shown up near a core world in a month." Cincannato answered calmly, not meeting her gaze. After a moment, he exhaled. "In a month, we will task the 79th Flotilla to hunt down Warlord Dhal, they will assign the 1st Mobile Suit Squadron to them. So will I."

"You're getting your ship back?" Sayla raised a brow, feeling the inertial forces decreasing. There was talk about installing dampers throughout the cylinders, but the cost made that idea unfeasible.

"I will. Officially, I'm reinstated to my squadron once we conclude this training operation. Unofficially… I have no chance for a promotion." Cincannato went quiet when the door opened. The rest of the walk towards the trams was only lightly crowded. Only a few workers spared the alien in their midst a second glance, turian engineers were a common sight so few people in the lower levels paid him any mind.

Sayla wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"My sympathies." She said after a moment.

When they were on the tram, Cincannato perked up a little. "Although supposedly that's not a bad thing. Officers from Palaven tend to be less ambitious than colonials. It's a tradition of picking a role you're suited to and perfecting that. Rather than risk pushing for a career you're not suited for."

"I can't agree with that. But I don't want to waste an hour explaining." Sayla shrugged while the tram entered the open air. Texas was just as crowded as ever, more now that tens of thousands of people from Freezer City were being awoken.

Multitudes of travelers filled the streets, newer buildings were being put up as fast as the materials came in (and the construction codes allowed); according to rumors, the hospital maternity wards were getting filled up. Banna was just as busy. The last time she visited the Jovian made colony, the workers were putting up a dozen new factories, and a rather big hydroponics plant. There was talk of opening the genetics vault, so the slew of creatures from across Earth could be reborn out here. It was unlikely to happen soon, even with the several new stations they had now. Space was still at a premium.

"Really? I'd be interested in hearing your perspective. But business comes first. Manswell has been making repeated inquiries about visiting the Citadel?" Cincannato asked, gazing out the window for the short time they were in the open. Sayla restrained a double take when she saw a crowded park with people. A fair of some kind? It had been a while since an actual event had been held…

"That's… one way to word it. I'd like to go along as well, if possible I would meet the Citadel Council." Sayla thought of that briefing, explaining how the representatives of the Asari Republics and the Salarian Union coordinated relations between their races, and provided a platform for smaller nations out there; Sayla hid how much she wanted to know about those other civilizations, like the Volus. Those Citadel Representatives were the heads of a vast coalition, who led hundreds of billions of citizens against the krogan. Effectively some of the most powerful people in the galaxy.

If the colonies were to survive, Sayla had to speak to them. She doubted the colonies could escape becoming a Hierarchy client state. They were too small, and the galaxy was too dangerous to stick out on their own. But if she could foster relations with those other powers, open trade relations or at least gain recognition of some kind, they could check Turian influence. She wasn't sure how to pull that off, but if there was a way, she would find it.

"I'll forward that to Primarch Quintus." Cincannato nodded while the tram closed in on the government offices. His mandibles clicked a few times, announcing a cough. "I've been wondering… I don't believe any humans have set foot on Digeris since the expedition arrived in the system. There is a factory down there I need to inspect. They build the newer model thrusters the Bellona uses. Would… would you or any of the other humans like to visit?"

Sayla sent him a raised brow when the tram coasted to a halt. "Is there a reason for this, Captain?"

Cincannato stayed put instead of leaving, clearing his throat. "Just an observation. Your people seem to be used to living in these stations, for good reason, mind you. Biology needs and so on. But it would be a shame to never walk on another world. Not everything has to be strictly transactional, you know."

Sayla turned away, smoothing her frown. "I'll pass that to the others."

"Thank you." The doors opened, and as usual, Cincannato gestured for her to lead. From here, the walk to the conference building was a short one. A few people filed into the tram now that Sayla no longer had priority. Several of them, including the security guard gave Cincannato a look, but only a few slowed enough to be noteworthy.

In a conference room close to the doors, Sayla opened to a room that was buzzing with talk. That ceased immediately when someone barked, "Ten hut!"

Twenty-eight people were inside, hurriedly standing to attention; a tiny part of Sayla was glad they didn't salute. She was a civil official. The blend of people present, some young in the eighteen-year-old range, a few in their forties, wearing newly issued (and ill fitting) blue jumpsuits, all stiffened when the alien entered after her. Cincannato hesitated a second, then crossed his arms behind his back.

"Ladies, gentlemen. As you are all aware, you have been selected from the volunteer pool to be trained on the Expedition's new mobile suits." Sayla began, partly for the Turian's benefit. "You have passed the training process. There will be no further vetting at this time. Captain Cincannato here has requested to help brief you on what the new training plan entails. He does not have discretionary authority at this time."

Several candidates sighed in relief. Sayla was accommodating, but there was a limit; letting the turians dictate who was allowed to defend the colonies was one. There was already a snarl forming with the CDF over how much authority the local forces had over them, whether or not the colonies could dispatch ships without getting the Castellus fleet command's consent. The ongoing war meant the issue was on the back burner, but it was a question she wanted answered sooner rather than later. As far as she knew Synapse and Grissom had been quietly discussing plans about that, they kept her out and she stayed away.

"He will answer any questions you may have." Now she gestured to him, backing up, so he had their full attention.

"Correct. I'm merely here to answer your questions of what to expect at our facility. With luck, the training process can be relocated to your colonies soon." Cincannato paused when one man raised a hand, a short one, Sayla noted. "Yes?"

"Sir, ah, ensign Michel Ninorich, sir." The man looked to be in his thirties, with shaved brown hair and freckles, his demeanor making him act much younger than his appearance suggested. "Ah… are we gonna be working alongside you guys from here on out?"

"The facilities will be training turians as well, if that is what you mean. Until said relocation is concluded, there is no human exclusive program. If you mean after the training is complete, then that is up to your ruling body. I for one feel that you men and women would be better served by defending your colonies than anything else," Cincannato explained, just the answer she expected. Though Sayla pondered if he didn't know better.

While he answered more questions, she decided to find out.

000

One month later…

Training humans wasn't as hard as turians, at least Shiro thought so. Granted, there were a lot of caveats with that thought, like how they didn't have to worry about integrating mobile suits into an alien fleet doctrine, or that they didn't have to unlearn a lot of things which applied to star fighters but not mobile suits. Or how the Bellonas were basically ready for deployment. Nina and Armax had weeded out almost all the design bugs. Okay, there were a lot of catches.

He shook his head, finishing putting on his jacket. Hickam, Grissom, and Healy had left already, Mackenzie was with the human pilots, leaving Sanders with him in their quarters. Soon their furniture and belongings would be shipped back to Texas, and they would renovate this suite back to Turian use. Eighteen months he had spent here, less total since he had to take away several periods where they went on leave, and now it was almost over.

Sanders offered a hand by the doorway, and as usual Shiro waved him off. "Can't believe it's almost over. Feels long, but short at the same time."

"I know what you mean." Shiro let Sanders lead, heading to the hangar. A graduation ceremony awaited them, really just a short party where the students would celebrate. His insistence. The twenty handpicked humans had been trained, the thirty turians were as ready as could be, and together they would bask in their success.

Tomorrow, the humans would return to Texas with twenty Bellonas. Next week, the 137th defensor squadron of the PDF would be designated the 1st Mobile Suit Squadron, and thirty Turian pilots would join the 79th Flotilla in a tour of duty in Hierarchy space. They would join the first beam cannon equipped frigates the Navy had, and if their luck held, they'd see some action. Maybe someday that White Base derived carrier design Nina had shown off a few days ago would be built.

But tonight, they were going to celebrate.

Shiro entered the hangar, wincing a second at his leg popping in place. A small wave of chatter met him, english and plebitu mingling until his translator chirped. Not that he needed it that much, but it had its uses. Someone set up a couple of prefab tables with the mess hall's finest offerings laid out: processed rations, non-alcoholic drinks, purified water, and a metallic flower. A smaller table had human fare, mostly bread and rice, though he smelled meat.

Rows of Bellonas stood in silent vigil. For once, nobody was working on them. The engineers were having their own celebration. Eighteen months of hard work had made quite the result. They set the Levana trio to the side, and the Nerio was in the back, waiting for whatever fate the higher ups wanted. Probably spending the rest of its service doing equipment testing.

None of that mattered to Shiro as much as seeing a girl steal Sanders' hand, whisking the suddenly blushing man with a smile. He chuckled, meeting the smile of the approaching lady who detached from a conversation with a haggard-looking Armax, the Turian using the chance to slam a cup of brown liquid.

Shiro took Aina's hands with a smile, simultaneously wishing she wore something more appropriate than a sweater and jeans, and enjoying the view of the most beautiful woman in his life. He met a kiss. Only the crowd (and his leg) kept him from sweeping Aina off her feet.

"Kept you waiting, huh?" He chuckled when the kiss ended, feeling the same shiver crawl up his spine as when he first laid eyes on her.

"For way too long." Aina stole a kiss, leading him towards the table. The fare was fresher and smelled better than the Turian stuff. He noticed more than a few of the trainees eyeing a pot of steaming meat with envy.

Hickam was laughing it up behind him, while Mackenzie was walking a visiting Bernie and Al to see the units, he caught a grimace on the older man's face for a second before a Turian blocked his view. Fetel, flanked by his pals, who laughed at an incident in training, clapped him on the back and guffawed. All three called to Keith when he walked by with a lady friend, trying to enthrall him with a training misadventure that he passed on.

Security had a fit with all the unauthorized people visiting, but so long as nobody got too close to the mobile suits or the equipment, they reluctantly allowed it.

"Here we are. Kiki sends her best." Aina served a little plate before the food was all gone, but he wouldn't mind if it was, so he told himself. Fresh pork made a convincing case. "She really wishes she could have gone down to Digeris. Me too honestly."

"Sorry, but that was out of my hands." Shiro wasn't able to go either. That lucky fool Manswell took first place at that event, even if it was just a negotiation over resource quotas. Walking on an alien planet…

Aina chuckled, taking a sip of water. "Well then, I'll just settle for having you back. The kids miss you."

"And I miss them. I have some extra photos for the wall that I'm looking forward to tacking them on." Shiro dug in, spying Grissom hanging at the periphery of the group, sipping her own drink. She wasn't interacting with anyone, when one of the human trainees, a Zeke if he remembered right, tried to invite her over she turned him down without a word.

"Me too. Though, I was hoping to get a couple pictures of your director before we went home. Where is Cincannato?" Aina looked around with a frown.

"Took off yesterday actually, I heard he's on his old ship. Word is that they're gonna make Armax the new lead." Shiro finished, taking her hands once more. "Alright, enough work stuff. Are you up for a dance, my lady?"

Aina chuckled, shifting her footing. "I am so badly out of practice, but I'm always available for a dance with you. If my request had gone through, I could have done this in a mobile suit."

"That would be funny, but-" Shiro kissed her, sliding to a more open area with the love of his life in his arms. "I'm kinda glad that they turned you down. I'd hate to keep both of us away for so long."

Aina kissed him again.

A few couples were close at the same time. Not all were human. At the edge of the crowd, Shiro spotted Arterius looking sour; he remembered seeing several requests to take leave on the planet from him, but all were turned down. Now the grumpy Turian was being chatted up by a female mechanic, despite his attitude she was making headway. Watching over the crowd was Torin. The scarred Drill Instructor was only drinking water and offering congratulations. He was supposed to be shipped home to his son and husband last week, but he volunteered to help out for this.

Shiro dismissed all of that. Right now he took his wife's hands, whom he had been willing to escape Sol for, and danced, slowly and lovingly enjoying her company-

Alarms blared, jolting everyone in sight. Panic cut through Shiro's goodwill, snapping to several screens by the wall that lit up. Due to both the distance and his company, Shiro was outpaced by the crowd who rushed to see what was going on.

"Is there an accident?" Aina's tone was filled with worry. Already she was hunting for an emergency exit.

"I don't think so." Shiro pushed aside a Turian, eyes widening at the sight of a red emergency alert screen.

Grainy footage from a satellite flicked on, showing a flock of dark shapes crossing a view of the planet. Three bird shaped cruisers fired at something out of sight, a moment before projectiles slammed into them, immolating all the defense force ships in view. Their destruction paved the way for several fast moving ships to enter their view, clearing out fighters racing to intercept them.

Gasps rolled through the crowd, including Shiro. Several larger ships entered the screen, bulbous shaped cruisers which safeguarded a trio of enormous vessels. Without scale, it was hard to tell how large they were, but they were easily double the size of their counterparts.

"Titans above, it's the krogan." One of the turians gaped.

"The colonies, what about the colonies?!" Grissom shoved through, panic in her voice.

"Hold on, look at the angle. They came from the opposite direction from where Iritum's orbit is." Fetel pointed out, stabbing a claw at the screen.

Flashes erupted from the krogan ships, raining mass accelerator rounds upon the planet. Plumes of light dotted the surface, a random spread that had to be killing god knew how many civilians. Streaks of missiles followed, lighting up the nighttime side of Digeris.

Shiro didn't realize his hands were shaking, not until he felt Aina squeezing him. He turned to see her grimace, showing fear, worry… then she nodded.

Shiro let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Armax. Get the mobile suits ready for launch, all of them. We're going to stop this battle, here and now."

000

A/N: Apologies for the lateness in posting, FF has been acting up lately. Seems this elderly site doesn't have much time left, though its surprised me before.

Anyway, in case this site finally does kick the bucket you can find this story at AO3 and Spacebattles. If you have read this far, thank you, and take care of yourselves.