For the majority of earthborn marines Luna wasn't just the big bright shape in the night sky but the location of their first (non-simulated) zero-G training. It was the place where the training wheels came off, the lack of atmosphere turning what had seemed like trivial mistakes back on Earth that surely didn't deserve that much shouting and beasting from the Drill Sergeants, into potentially fatal experiences.

Having enlisted in the Traverse, Shepard's training had been conducted in different far flung locations and this was her first trip to Luna, she couldn't help a sense of awe at the sight of Earth glinting in the sky. The crisp blue shape mottled with greens, browns and swirls of white cloud was stunning against the dark black of space. She may have been a native Mindoirian but the sight of humanity's birthplace was truly breath taking.

It took a couple of minutes of admiration before she recognised the shapes she could see as the American continents and the realisation that somewhere down there was Trish. She raised her omni-tool to snap a picture and attached the file to a message, only pausing when she had to think of some text to include. 'I can see you' or 'I'm watching you' both seemed a little creepy, she briefly considered the minimalistic 'Boo!' before settling for: [Well hello there beautiful.]

It wasn't until after she sent it that she suddenly remembered that they no longer shared a time zone and she was still desperately trying to work out the time difference when a notification popped up. [Well hello there] The nearly word for word reply was accompanied by a picture of a gibbous moon, large against a star specked sky, and followed almost immediately by [Are you free to talk?].

...

Luna was certainly a strange posting Nikki reflected as she looked around the gift shop for a suitable present for Trish. Despite her work days revolving around keeping the training base's squadron of tanks and IFVs in top condition there was actually relatively little military presence on the moon. The vast majority of the 4 million population was in fact civilian, the opinion being if an enemy got this close to Earth there wasn't a lot a surface defense force on the moon could actually do and it would be a better use of Alliance personnel to keep them on the fleets, use Arcturus station as a choke point for the Charon relay to prevent unauthorised ships reaching the Sol system in the first place, and on Earth itself. The original settlement had been founded in 2069 with the intention of mining Helium 3, then the discovery of eezo changed the course of technology, suddenly rendering a resource countries had been willing to kill over relatively unimportant and obsolete. There was still some mining and industry present but an estimated 36% of Armstrong's economy was tourism based.

Normally the semi-permanent staff of the training base didn't get out much but they'd finally waved goodbye to the last load of boot camp recruits and had a couple of days to themselves before some spec op troops were due to arrive for advanced training. The maintenance crews for both ground and flight vehicles had decided to requisition, well... more like liberate, umm... 'test drive'? That's it. They needed to 'test drive' a couple of vehicles just to make sure they were fully functioning for the training exercises ahead and some how Nikki had ended up dragged along to the Apollo museum.

A smart thinking entrepreneur in the early days of colonization had swept the moon's surface for any remaining 20th century visit debris and had acquired the majority of the ascent and descent stages left behind from Apollos 10 through to 17; as well as the Lunar Rovers from Apollo missions 15, 16 and 17. They had combined these with a variety of vids and photographs to make some interactive displays, including a mock up of the Kennedy space station mission control. Even Shepard had to admit it was pretty impressive, even if she didn't bother reading much of the handy info along the way as she focused on the pre-eezo vehicles. It hadn't been long before she ended up in the gift shop.

There was the practically compulsory "My [insert here] went to [insert here] and all I got was this lousy t-shirt", available at all good tourist attractions across the galaxy. There was the frankly awful: "I was the man on the moon". Then there were pictures of famous historical astronauts, photos or schematics of early space ships. Posters and stills for the earliest known sci-fi film "Voyage dans la Lune" by Georges Méliès with a bullet like space capsule sticking out of the moon's eye, available in both colour and black and white prints plastered on every gift imaginable... So far however Shepard's personal favourite was the 'Luna Dairies' series featuring a cow in an old fashioned space suit and bubble helmet, complete with the slogan "Best cheese this side of Hollywood." Her browsing was interrupted by a commotion near the door, three Alliance uniforms with familiar looking occupants scrambling excitedly into view.

"Hey Shepard, did you know they're renting out replica Apollo Rovers?"

"Let me guess, you've broken them already?" There was a flood of denials and a particularly emphatic 'not yet' as the mechanic rejoined them with a grin.

...

"So, umm... Please don't get mad at me babe, there's something I probably should have told you..." It was a good job the basic functions of the human body worked on automatic, Trish wouldn't have known whether her heart rate was supposed to double or stop completely when she heard those words. "Last time we had a night out in Armstrong we ran into these asari scientists at one of the bars... I didn't mention it before because nothing happened, but it's starting to freak me out now. They keep trying to invite me out to play golf. I can't work out if it's supposed to be a euphemism." Trish burst out laughing.

"Oh god, it is isn't it? I keep saying no but they keep asking. I don't even know what they mean!" Tears streamed helplessly down the civilian's cheeks at the look of pure panic and confusion on Nikki's face. She tried to reassure her girlfriend but couldn't get the words out, merely shaking her head in amusement. "What? What am I missing?"

"I'm sorry Nick... You actually had me worried for a moment there." She nearly broke down in hysterics again but pulled herself together when she saw how lost and bewildered the soldier looked. "It's probably because of your name." Apparently her explanation didn't ring any bells, then again that should hardly be a surprise, the younger woman had readily admitted how little attention she used to pay to Mrs Lewis in history. "You know, Alan Shepard? Second human in space, fifth man on the moon? First person to hit a golf ball outside the Earth's atmosphere. On, coincidentally, the moon. That place where you, Corporal Shepard, are currently based. They probably think you're related." Relief and understanding dawned.

"Oh! So when they say golf, they just mean golf?"

"Yes dear. It's not a euphemism. You can go out and play golf with asari if you want to and I won't get jealous."

...

"Bloody hell Nikki, what happened? It looks like someone dropped a crowbar on your face!" Shepard winced, silently berating herself for not checking if the call was just audio or video as well before answering. She didn't argue as she obeyed her girlfriend's hand signals, angling the camera for a better look at the purple and blue bruising across her jaw.

"No, just a fist. The Spec op guys are dicks-"

"They hit you? What the hell for? Have you filed a complaint?"

"Calm down Trish, one question at a time. He's in the punishment block as we speak and they're just sore losers. No sense of humour either." There was a groan from the Earth side of the vid-link.

"What did you say?"

"Hey! A moment ago you were willing to rip through the Alliance's best and meanest for me, now you're assuming it's my fault!" The indignation was clear in the soldier's voice but there was no sign of guilt or remorse as Trish raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Are you going to try telling me he still would've hit you if you'd kept your big mouth shut?"

"Well... Ok, no, probably not. But there's a bloody long back story behind it...

*,,,*

The sound of the interior airlock doors opening had Shepard looking up from her job replacing a cut fuel line to see the recovery vehicle driving in with yet another M29 casualty on the back. A tilt of her head had the technician that had been helping her running over to assist the driver with unhooking the Grizzly as the vehicle's crew filtered out the hatch and back to the barracks. She finished her own task, making sure her tools were clean and secure before heading over to check it out.

"They can shoot and they can kill but they can't drive for shit." Shepard muttered as she surveyed the assorted debris that had turned up in her workshop over the last two hours. She was startled by a deep rumbling chuckle and turned to find a dark-skinned man in his late 30s had managed to sneak up on them despite wearing a suit of heavy armour.

"Think you can do better Corporal?" She stiffened into a salute, there was no visible rank insignia on the armour but the N7 logo on the chest guaranteed he outranked her.

"Shooting and killing? No Sir. The driving? Hard to see how I could do any worse. Erm... Can I help you with something Sir?"

"Just checking if the Grizzlies will be ready for 0300."

"How many do you need?" She was already calculating work times and which jobs she could siphon off to other people in her head. It was a tight deadline that guaranteed she wouldn't be sleeping tonight but she couldn't exactly tell an N7 no because of that.

"Ten." She winced.

"I'm afraid I can only guarantee you seven Sir, possibly eight, I haven't had a chance to run diagnostics on that one yet." She pointed towards the newest casualty, aware that everyone else in the workshop had stopped working, focusing on her conversation as they pretended to be busy. For the first time in the posting she wished there was someone who outranked her in the garage so they could have this discussion instead of her.

"If you push the exercise time back four hours I can get you one more Sir, but that's the best I can do." She awaited the enraged blowback of how she should do what she's told and get it done but the man seemed relatively calm, as if he was doing his own mental arithmetic of how to get around the limitation. Unfortunately her mouth didn't know when to stop moving. "Love to get you more Sir, but I'm afraid I only have one pair of hands."

"Really? What about the others?" He raised an eyebrow inquiringly, indicating the other mechanics hanging around, all making surprisingly little noise for a working garage.

"Smyth and Singh are flight mechanics." She gestured to the two gods in human form, helping scrape off the hated omni-gel despite the fact that they were perfectly entitled to sit around on crates watching and muttering 'not my department'. "They're only qualified to work on shuttles and fighters, not ground vehicles. Garcia's still an apprentice, he can do the basic work but your guys insist on breaking things in creative ways. At the moment I've got him replacing burnt out clutches and brake pads. Of course I could just give him a toolbox and tell him to do whatever he thinks is right but I can't guarantee the vehicles won't fall apart or explode on you if I do that. I certainly won't be able to sign off on them."

"So it's just you then?"

"Near enough Sir, Kuznetsov is fully qualified but doc won't let him out the infirmary."

"OK, I get the picture. I best let you get on with it, as many as you can manage Corporal."

...

Shepard stood outside the door, datapad in hand, psyching herself up. There were so many reasons she shouldn't attempt what she was about to do but they'd already 'acquired' a few spare parts from the other Luna bases and were still going to run out. Short of going around the garages in Armstrong that worked on the civilian VT7 variant and 'commandeering' their stock, she couldn't see any other way. She knocked.

"Come in." She entered briskly, stopping before the instructor's desk and snapping a salute. "At ease Corporal, Shepard wasn't it? What can I do for you?"

"Yes Sir, I need you to sign a requisitions order please Sir." His eyebrow shot up.

"It's my understanding that there's already a system in place for such things. Why aren't you going through the chain?"

"I've already worked through my monthly quota of parts and put in several extra request forms Sir, the first ones arrived no problem but the later ones are being delayed. I was kind of hoping an N7's signature would speed things up a bit. After all without the parts I won't be able to maintain the vehicles needed for your training exercises."

"Did they say why there's a delay?" There was a notable hesitation before she answered.

"Not exactly Sir, there was an... implication, that we shouldn't need any more yet. After all the monthly quota is usually ample and we've gone through twice as many parts in half the time."

"I can read between the lines Corporal but it's tiresome, speak freely. I didn't earn my N7 by being an expert at everything, I earned it by becoming an expert on a lot and knowing when to listen to others on the things I'm not. You're basically saying my trainees can't drive."

"Not exactly Sir, I'm sure they're all capable of passing driving tests on Earth... More that they're not driving properly for zero-G and they have so little understanding of what's behind their vehicle that they don't think about it. For example... Say your rifle overheats, it's an inconvenience sure, but you just swap to another weapon and wait for the heat sinks to cool back down. It's as if they're driving with a fighting mentality, but if you burn out a clutch then that's dead. Nothing in the world is going to make that part safe to use again, not even omni-gel. Speaking of which... someone should inform them that the myth about the 'miracle properties' of omni-gel are largely an advertising lie. If the first batch of omni-gel doesn't work then it means it's not going to fix the problem, not that you just haven't used enough of it. All the additional three or four pouches does is make it take longer before we can start fixing the problem back in the garage."

Shepard finally paused, fighting the urge to rock slightly on her heels as she realised 'permission to speak freely' or not she probably shouldn't have said quite so much to someone so much higher up the chain of command than her. Instead of any of the vast variety of expressions she may have expected however the officer merely studied her analytically.

"Maybe we can help each other out Corporal. I have been trying to get my superiors to make advanced zero-G and plus-G driving mandatory much earlier in the N program without success. My proposal is this, I authorise your requests for parts and you take on my trainees in a driving challenge. You seemed pretty confident you were better than them in the garage." Balls, he remembered that. Wait, how does this help him out? The confusion must have slipped through her mask.

"If a corporal beats the brass's golden boys then maybe they'll understand what I've been trying to tell them... and even if they don't, personal pride will dictate the current batch at least will seek improvement." Well that's just great for you but I still don't see what's in it for me?

"Of course a challenge is nothing without stakes, so when you win I will ensure my men scrape all omni-gel off their vehicles after exercises before they can head to the mess." It was certainly tempting but Shepard wasn't a complete idiot.

"And what if I lose?"

"I thought you were confident in your abilities?"

"I am, but with respect Sir, the whole point of your MOS is that you don't play fair. I'd rather know the stakes going in than be surprised later." To her surprise he actually allowed a slight chuckle.

"Fair enough... If you lose... My men may apply their entire combined quota of omni-gel on the vehicles, broken or not." Shit, talk about double or nothing. Ah well, what the hell, not my problem... if I lose the rest of the mechanics will kill me instantly.

"Only if it's applied on the last day of training, not before."

"Agreed. So do we have a deal?" Shepard considered a moment longer before accepting the instructor's outstretched hand.

"Yes Sir I believe we do."

*,,,*

"Well I'm not going to bore you with a turn by turn commentary, but naturally I won and without sustaining any damage to my vehicle." Nikki finished telling Trish her story with a particularly smug look on her battered face.

"So... You won the race and they punched you? That's not the whole story is it?"

"Couple of them broke down again."

"Ah... Go on."

"Well... I took the recovery truck out to pick up the vehicles..."

"Mhmm."

"And I asked them if they wanted a lift back to base..."

"Or?"

"Hey! How did you know there was going to be an 'or'?"

"This is you we're talking about Nick, there is always either an 'and' a 'but' or an 'or' involved." Shepard smirked, not even attempting to deny that one.

"Ok, so I asked if they wanted to be towed back OR if they'd rather drive the truck back while I fixed the Grizzly, then I'd drive that back and still beat them a second time!"

"You didn't." Trish groaned. "Talk about adding insult to injury. You actually said that to a bunch of N7s?"

"NO! I'm not THAT stupid, give me some credit. I'm not suicidal... They were only N3."

"Ohhh, they were only N Three! That makes it all ok then. Did you at least learn a valuable lesson?" Trish asked in a rather condescending tone.

"Yeah, yeah I know. Always keep my guard up and be ready to duck." The civilian laughed.

"No doofus, I meant don't insult the spec op guys."

"Pfft, or at least only do it over comms..." Trish shook her head.

"Well look on the bright side, you may have to mess about with medigel for a few days but at least you get a break from omni-gel."

"Bah, I think that N7 bastard was playing me the entire time."

"I thought you just said they were only N3s?"

"Yeah no, the trainees are only N3, their instructor's an N7. Anderson baited that trap perfectly and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. I don't have to mess about with omni-gel anymore but now I've proven my superiority over his guys and got their respect, they want me to teach them how to drive properly. My days just got a whole lot longer."

...

Author's note:

Thanks to everyone who's followed, faved or reviewed, it really does encourage writers to keep going. To be honest Nikki and Trish are such a delight to write that I might even be able to keep going without the encouragement, but if nothing else it reminds me to concentrate on getting the next chapter in the story done instead of being distracted by the random scenes that pop into my head for years ahead in the timeline. While I'm confident I've got those two well enough characterized in my head to be happy writing them, it was a bit weird trying to include other characters again. Obviously it's necessary to progress the story, so far we've followed Shepard from naive teenager into confident marine but she still needs to get from military mechanic to spec ops. I'm not sure if I'm happy with Anderson's dialogue here or not, at times it seems a bit too casual and pally. I know he ends up being viewed as a mentor for Shepard by the time 2183 rolls around, but it still seems out of place behavior for between an officer and a lowly corporal. Hopefully it's not too bad and it's just because I'm not confident in writing him yet.