One by one, the Federation fighters that had helped to take Presidia touched down on the runway. Avery was the last, but she didn't mind all that much. As she moved onto the taxiway, the base already seemed to be returning to its old self. And as she followed her squadron into their old hangar, it looked almost exactly the way she remembered it- like it did when they took off that fateful morning that felt like a lifetime ago now. The only thing that seemed out of place was that it had an empty spot where another F/C-16 should've gone.

"Y'know, as much as I hate to admit it," ASH remarked as she began climbing out of her plane. "The rebels at least seem to know how to keep the place clean."

"No kidding," Cutter agreed, looking around with an almost awestruck expression. "Makes me worried what the place will look like in a month if all the people keeping the place clean were rebels."

Shepard chuckled as he put his arm around Cutter's shoulder. "Well, if push comes to shove, we can always put the young whippersnappers to work."

Avery rolled her eyes. "Hey, this whippersnapper got seven kills today. I'd like to see you get that many in one sortie old man."

Suddenly, the Major's expression shifted to a far more serious tone. "Not that you really needed to," he reminded her. "There was no need for you to take on that flight of five by yourself. What were you even thinking?"

"I was thinking that maybe all of these people who look down at me because I was born here might actually realize that I want to help." He really still didn't get it? Did she have to spell it out for him? "These people-"

"Who gives a damn what they think?" Shepard asked, cutting her off. "You said it yourself: you are going to stay here, helping fight for the Federation whether they like it or not, so why are you still trying to prove yourself to them? Is their approval really going to change anything?"

Avery let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't try and psychoanalyze me, sir. You wanna know why I care so much? Do you wanna know why it drives me nuts? It's because I feel like a goddamn outcast! I did what I thought was right, and what do I have to show for it: everyone on this whole damn base turning their noses up at me. And with the way you're talking, it's starting to seem like even you're having doubts, so tell me, did I make the right choice? Or do you think I woulda been better off with the rebels?"

"Avery." Shepard insisted. His voice was heavy and dripping with authority, but there was something else in there too- something that, to Avery, seemed to be close to parent's gentle reassurance. "I ask because I care about you- we all do," he paused, taking a moment to make a wide gesture around the hangar at the other four pilots, including Padlock, who had seldom even looked at her since they landed. "If you continue down this path, it will only end leaving you bitter and hurt. That's why I am telling you that you don't need their validation. You're no outcast, and you did make the right choice. Do you want to know how I can tell?"

Avery didn't dare utter a word- not just out of fear of angering him, but also concern that it would somehow distract him from what he had to say. All the young pilot could do was shake her head in the affirmative.

"Look around. You're still here, with all of us. More importantly than that, though, you have your home back. The blood you've spilled, the tears you've shed, and the sweat you've dripped has gone toward something. You're helping to build a better world not just for the Federation, but for yourself."

"We all care for you, kid," Cutter added. "We're helping fight these rebels not just because it's in the Federation's best interest or even because we're being ordered to. We're doing it because it's important to you, Glade. By fire and dust, we'll stand by your side until the very end- or die trying."

It was only then that Avery felt a tear rolling down her cheek. She tried to play it off with a small laugh, and did her best to wipe it off as discreetly as she could- which wasn't easy when all eyes were on here. "Thank you- all of you. I…" Avery trailed off. She wanted so desperately to tell them how she felt- that she cared for them. She wanted to tell them how much they meant to her; how much she valued their company, their camaraderie, and most of all, their compassion toward her, even when she felt that she didn't really deserve it. She wanted to tell them that she loved them as much as any person could love a group that they met less than three months ago. Try as she might, though, she couldn't find it within herself. All she could manage was a meager but genuine, "thank you."

ASH smirked, giving Avery a gentle nudge with her elbow. "C'mon, now. We're supposed to be celebrating! We better hurry over to the mess hall before those army guys eat all the food."

Shepard chuckled. "Right you are, ASH. Let's get moving," he said, already stepping out of the hangar and toward the main building just across the tarmac.

"Ah, I wouldn't be too worried about it," Cutter replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "After all, it just wouldn't be much of a party without us."

As the pilots approached the door leading into the building, they all stopped as a low rumbling sound in the distance gradually got louder and louder. Avery was the first to see the source of the noise and quickly pointed it out to the rest of the squadron. Three C/T-17s approached from the north east, all bearing Federation markings. Once they had touched down onto the runway, the rear ramps opened, and the first one to step out was none other than Commander Grayson himself- followed shortly thereafter by a swarm of command personnel, ground crew, and everyone in-between.

"Locksmith Squadron," Grayson greeted the group as he approached them, giving them a curt dip of his head. "You all did well today, as did everyone that helped take Presidia back today."

"Any word on the last rebels that managed to slip away after the battle?" Cutter asked as they continued along their route to the mess hall.

Grayson shook his head. "Major Ackers reported that any escaping rebels were scattered and in too few numbers to waste resources and manpower pursuing," he replied before shaking his head, replacing his usual indifferent expression with a smile so rare from him that Avery considered taking a picture. "Enough about that, though- for now at least. Tonight, we're going to celebrate."

As they all rounded the corner into the mess hall, the room fell silent upon the sight of everyone's commanding officer entering- a feat that Avery would've thought impossible had she not seen it with her own eyes. The soldiers slipped into attention so fast that she had to wonder whether or not there was some sort of hive mind involved.

Grayson climbed onto a table, looking around at every last Federation soldier. "At ease, everyone. There'll be no need for formalities tonight. I just wanted to say a few words first. These past two months have been- well, to call them challenging would be the understatement of the decade. We've all been tested in ways that we probably never thought possible. Our comrades, friends, even family, have died, but we didn't let that stop us. We didn't let it get in the way of the greater good. But above all, we wouldn't have made it here without each other, and that's what the Federation is all about. Tonight is all about you and the victory that you earned, so go on; take this night as your opportunity to enjoy the fruits of your labors. Nobody has earned it more than you."

Cheers filled the room in unison, hats were flung into the air, and most importantly, champagne bottles were popped- a clear message that the party had officially begun. Nobody bothered to even think about keeping track of time- even suggesting such a notion would get you laughed out of the room. As such, the time passed quickly. The sun had completely vanished behind the horizon, and still the Federation soldiers showed no sign of even coming close to stopping. Avery took a few steps to distance herself from the crowd as the continued dancing, taking a moment to catch a breather before looking for an opportunity to jump back in. As she scanned the crowd for anyone that she knew, however, she realized that someone was missing: Padlock.

'He's probably around here somewhere. You're just not seeing him,' she tried to reason with herself, hoping to fabricate an excuse to avoid going to look for him.

No matter how hard she tried, though, her conscience wouldn't allow it. She just couldn't let him miss out- even if they weren't on the best terms- and so her quest to find Locksmith 3 began. After triple-checking to be sure that he wasn't lost in the crowd somewhere, she started checking the corridors and rooms closest to the mess hall. All of them turned up empty. It was at this point that Avery began to question whether or not she should abandon her search- after all, she didn't want to miss out on too much of the celebration, but still she kept going. Her search took her further and further away from the mess hall. Eventually, she found herself stepping out of the main building and onto the tarmac, and sure enough, there he was, sitting on the pavement and looking out at the city in the distance with a pack of glass bottles sitting beside him. Avery took a deep breath. The two of them hadn't spoken a word to each other since the war started. It was time to rip off the bandage. She slowly approached behind him, making sure not to startle him, but just as she was about to open her mouth, however, he beat her to the punch, speaking without averting his gaze.

"You did well today," were the first words he chose to give her after the extended silence between them. "Shepard can think you were reckless all you want; I think you were pretty brave taking on that flight of five by yourself."

Avery thought long and hard about her response as she sat down beside him. "I wouldn't've minded getting some of that praise a little earlier- or… any kind of interaction, truth be told."

"Yeah…" Pad replied, nodding solemnly as his voice trailed off. "Look, Glade, I… I'm sorry- for everything, and I know that's probably the bare minimum of what you were expecting to hear from me, but it's the truth. The things I said, and the way I treated you… that just wasn't okay. Shepard was right: we're all in this together, but it doesn't really feel that way when we're at each other's throats all the time, so I'm sorry for being such an ass to you." He let out a relieved sigh, already feeling an immense burden off his chest. "You think we can start over?" he asked, offering his hand to her.

Avery went right past his hand and instead brought him into a hug. "I'd like that a lot," she told him. "I've missed being around you, Pad."

After a few moments of confusion, Padlock returned the hug. "Yeah… me too- about you, I mean." He pulled himself away and diverted Avery's attention to the case of bottles sitting between them. "So, how's about we bury the hatchet officially by sharing a drink or two?"

She gave him a smirk accompanied by a heavy roll of her eyes. "I would've thought that you'd get the message after the last two tries."

He pulled out a bottle and held it out for her. "C'mooon just try it," he insisted. "It's not like it'll kill you."

"To be honest, I'm not so sure about that, but alright," Avery replied, begrudgingly taking the bottle from him and twisting off the cap. The tint of the glass distorted the color of the drink as she peered inside, but she could still tell that she was going to regret this. "Well, here goes nothing. Cheers, I guess." She tapped the neck of her bottle against his and took a drink. Her throat muscles tensed, preparing to spit it out at a moment's notice as the drink slid down. To her own surprise, though, it went down pleasantly- or pleasantly enough at the very least. She looked down at the bottle with a confused look. "What is this stuff anyways?"

Pad's eyes widened. "Wait, do you like it?"

She took another drink, confirming that the first sip wasn't just a fluke. "I think so?"

"Hot damn!" her wingman cheered, pumping his fist into the air. "I knew I'd find a booze you like eventually- shoulda figured it'd be something fruity like cider."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked him with a smirk.

Pad gave her a friendly nudge with his elbow. "I think you know what it means." His voice trailed off, and he stared back out at the city in the distance. "Y'know, it's funny…" He tried to let out a soft chuckle, but it was clear that his heart just wasn't in it. "The only reason I wanted to try and find some kind of alcohol that you'd drink is because I know how hard Babble worked to do the same. It almost feels like a relief- one more remorse off my chest, y'know?"

Avery nodded as she took another sip. "Yeah, I get it." She opened her mouth to speak again, but Pad cut her off.

"Look, I know I already got done apologizing and all, but… I am just so sorry for even insinuating that you had anything to do with her not being here anymore," he insisted. "Even if I was mad, it was a line that I never should've crossed, and I-"

Now it was Avery's turn to cut him off. "You don't need to worry about it; like you said, it's water under the bridge."

"No, it's not," Pad insisted, shaking his head profusely. "That's not something that you can just sweep under the rug. I was a selfish ass who was only worried about how her death affected me without ever once thinking about the rest of you." He looked back to Avery, meeting her eyes with as serious a gaze as she'd ever seen from him. "I'm not gonna make that mistake again. I promise."

Avery wasn't sure what to say. It was clear that this had been eating away at him for a while, now. She couldn't even imagine how torturous that must have been. Eventually, though, she smiled and gave him an approving nod. "I'm… glad to hear, that, Pad."

He smiled as he shook his head. "C'mon, you don't gotta keep calling me Pad when we're talkin' serious shit like this. Alex is fine." He paused for a moment, grabbing his bottle and heaving it up into the air. "Speaking of which, I propose a toast: to Carrie- probably still using that sharp tongue of hers to annoy everyone she can, wherever she ended up."

Avery laughed as she brought her bottle up to match his. "I'll drink to that- gonna miss her." She took another swig, and her gaze flicked between Pad and the main building in the base. Finally, she stood up and offered him a hand. "C'mon, we should head back- wouldn't wanna miss out any more than we already have."

"I suppose not," Padlock conceded as he took her hand to get back on his feet. "Besides, I think I've hit my quota of solitary brooding for the rest of the war. A chance to unwind after everything we've been through is exactly what I need."

By the time they got back, Avery fully expected the excitement to have died down. After all, she did end up taking far longer than she anticipated. But when the two pilots returned to the mess hall, it seemed just as busy as it did when she first left, much to her own confusion. Fortunately, the rest of the squadron had put some distance between themselves and the main congregation of people, so they were easy to spot. In the few seconds it took for Avery and Padlock to walk up to them, their expressions went from happy to see them, confused that they were together, and back to happy as the realization hit them in a surprisingly short window.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Cutter asked with a smug grin as they closed the gap to the table that they were all sitting at. "You two finally buried the hatchet?"

"Never mind, is Glade holding a bottle of alcohol- an opened bottle of alcohol?" ASH asked, pointing to the cider in her hands.

"Damn right she is- because I found a drink that she likes," Pad proclaimed, brimming with far more pride than he probably should have for such a trivial matter.

Cutter chuckled. "It's good to see that you finally came to your senses, Pad. I was wondering how long it'd take you to pull your head out of your ass," he said in tone clearly meant to tease him but without any malice behind it.

Pad sighed, nodding to himself with a slight smile. "I suppose I should've expected this. Alright then, let's get it all out now."

ASH rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Seriously, were you just going for douchebag of the year, or what? Like did you even speak to her at all between the war starting and now?"

Pad was about to defend himself, but Shepard spoke up first. "Look, I think we can all agree that it's good to finally be back together again- properly," the Major said, flashing Padlock an understanding glance.

ASH gave him a dismissive handwave. "Yeah, yeah, we're all pals. Now c'mon, I wanna see how much of a lightweight Glade is."

"Oh, she totally is," Pad said as the two of them sat down at the table with their squadron. "She's been on that one bottle for the last fifteen minutes and she's barely halfway through it."

"Why would I just hammer the thing down? I'm not even that thirsty!" Avery protested.

Shepard smiled, shaking his head. "Ah, you've still got a lot to learn, Glade. You may be an ace but you're still our nugget."

"Gotta admit, the kid's come pretty far in such a short amount of time," Cutter pointed out, taking a sip from his drink. "Considering everything she's been through; I can't help but feel a little proud of her."

ASH laughed. "Well, I mean… it's not too surprising that she turned out the way she did. After all, we were there to guide her." She nudged Avery with her elbow, flashing her a teasing glance.

"Hey, I'm bein' serious here," Cutter insisted. "In the span of about three months, she went from fresh off the transport from Ulaanbaatar to one of the pilots liberating Presidia." He paused for a brief moment. "You've done good, kid; to be straight with ya, better than I thought you would've done."

Avery shrugged. It was all she could think to do. After all, she wasn't used to such thorough praise- especially after the last two months of getting put down and ostracized for being a Cascadian. "Well, ASH isn't entirely wrong. Dust Mother knows I wouldn't have gotten nearly as far as I have without the rest of you. Hell, I probably might not even be here, so… thanks, to all of you."

"That's what the rest of us are here for, to look out for one another," Pad said. "Took me a while to realize it, but it's true."

Shepard nodded. "That's how it's always been- since I was young at least."

"When were you ever young?" Avery teased him.

Shepard, as always, took the joke in stride. "Longer than you might think. When you get to my age, the years start flying by, so take a little advice from your "elders" and enjoy these years while you've got them. Before you know it they'll be slipping through your fingers like grains of sand."

"Excuse me," came a voice behind Avery. She spun around in her chair to see a man only a few years older than her dressed in an army uniform. His patches revealed that he was a Sergeant, but she could gain no more information at a glance than that. "You're Lieutenant… Finch, right?"

Avery looked back at her squadron, whose expressions all told her that they were just as clueless as she was. "Yeah, that'd be me," she replied, turning her attention back to the soldier. "What can I do for you?"

The man smiled at the answer he got; it was warm and reassuring, as if the two of them had already known each other for years. "I was hoping to speak to you for a second in private- if it's no bother, that is," he hurriedly added.

"Sure, it's not like I'm lacking in time at the very least," she decided, getting up out of her chair with a shrug. Once he led her to a spot that felt at least somewhat secluded, she gave him another curious glance. "So, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

He gave her an indifferent shrug. "Well, if you wanna be formal, you can call me Sergeant Stattson. If you wanna be casual, then just call me Statts- or just Mark if you want. But really the pleasure is all mine. Y'see, I was down here on the ground fighting to take the airbase. I'm the one leading Headwind 2-3," Statts explained. "Really, I just wanted to thank you. I'm not privy to the details but I heard that it's because of you that Major Ackers got to help us so quickly. And since I figured nobody else has probably thanked you for it yet, I might as well do it myself."

Avery cocked an eyebrow in his direction. "What makes you say that?"

Statts flashed her a knowing look before gesturing to the large group of Federation soldiers before them. "Look around, damn near everyone in this room fought to take this air base back from the rebels. Has a single one of them thanked you?"

She opened her mouth, mere seconds away from saying that of course they have, but then she stopped to think. No matter how hard she thought on the matter, she just couldn't remember a single person thanking her even once. She closed her mouth and Statts nodded.

"You've seen it too, haven't you? The glares? The doubts? The venom lacin' their every word?" Statts asked her. "They look at folks like us and think we're lesser 'cause we were born here- like this whole shitshow is somehow our fault."

"You're Cascadian?" Avery asked, blinking in surprise.

Statts chuckled as he gave her a nod. "Damn right- grew up down south in Navarro. But you… I can tell you've been a Presidian all your life- y'got the accent."

Avery laughed. "You mean I don't sound like a cowboy?"

"Don't matter how you look at it; accent is still an accent, city girl," he teased her before he gave her a more serious expression. "Look, I just wanted to tell ya that you ain't alone. Maybe after we win this thing, we can show the rest of 'em that we belong in the Federation just as much as they do, but until then, you ever wanna talk? Come find me."

"I just might do that. Thanks, Statts."

He shrugged. "Don't mention it, " he told her before turning around and vanishing into the crowd.

Avery stood there for a moment, unmoving. All she could do was watch the spot that Statts disappeared from. Until that point, she'd gone the whole war without once seeing another Cascadian fighting for the Federation. Now, though, she not only didn't feel alone anymore, but she felt appreciated. It felt as if a massive stone had been lifted off of her chest and she could finally breathe again. Smiling to herself, she took another swig from her cider and headed back to join the others. She was determined to make sure that this was a night to remember.

"Glade…" ASH murmured weakly and groggily. "Glade, c'mon. Get up." She groaned, poking her wingman in the ribs.

As soon as Avery felt conscious enough to move on her own accord, she reached up to massage her temple, hoping to alleviate the throbbing she felt against her skull. "Agh, Dust Mother give me strength." Despite the fact that it felt as if gravity itself was trying to keep her laying down. "What time is it, even?"

"10:20. I think Grayson gave up trying to get everybody awake about two hours ago," ASH told her.

` "Well, that's something at least." Avery tried rubbing some of the sleep out of her eyes with only moderate success. An awkward silence fell over their room that she just had to break. "Sooo… last night was, uh… fun."

ASH smirked in a way that made Avery's stomach tie itself in knots. "I'm glad you think so. And just so we're on the same page, we aren't telling the others about… y'know, the end of the evening?"

Avery scoffed. "Oh, hell no, we aren't. I'm not about to be taking any chances."

"Take any chances with what?" Asked in a voice that made it all too clear that she knew exactly the answer she was looking for. She feigned a shocked gasp with her hand over her mouth as she made a show of pretending to figure out what she meant. "Avery Finch, I never would've imagined you to be so devious."

Avery rolled out of her bed and reached for her flight suit while trying to move as little as possible. Eventually, she capitulated and looked up at ASH, her eyes asking the question for her. And when she handed Avery her flight suit, she finally stood up. "Last night should've given you a clue, at least."

ASH snickered before walking over to the door. "Well, I'm gonna go on a walk and then grab some coffee. You coming?"

Avery nodded, quickly hurrying along to follow her wingman out into the barracks. As the two of them moved through the winding halls and out onto the tarmac, they went over their accounts of the previous nights, going over what all they thought were the highlights and what they thought should stay locked away in their memories.

"Y'know… maybe it was just the booze, but I couldn't help but feel like you seemed a lot happier last night than you usually are," ASH pointed out. "It suits you."

Avery shrugged. "Well, I've got a lot to be happy about nowadays: Pad and I finally made up, I don't feel as alone anymore, I'm finally getting some recognition for all the work that I put in, and most importantly," she paused to gesture grandly to the cityscape of Presidia in the distance. "I've finally got my home back!" She let out a heavy, longing sigh. "ASH, you have no idea how much I missed this place."

ASH laughed at the sheer amount of enthusiasm that her wingman had on full display. "I'm starting to get an idea. But, in all seriousness, I really am happy that you're finally… happy; because you deserve it. Seeing you get put through so much bullshit that you didn't deserve in the slightest drove me nuts- mostly because there wasn't much, if anything, that I could even do about it. To be honest, I was starting to get worried for you."

"Trust me, you don't have to start worrying about me any time soon; that goes for down on the ground and up in the air," Avery assured her, smirking slightly.

"Well, if my memory serves me correctly, I do very certainly recall a certain someone having to swoop in to rescue you during your first combat sortie with us- even if you did make ace," ASH pointed out, nudging Avery with her shoulder. "I was looking out for you then, and I'm gonna keep looking out for you. That's a promise."

Avery shrugged, looking at ASH with a feigned arrogant smirk. "Well… if you think you can keep up with me, then by all means feel free. Just don't feel too bad when I leave you in the dust."

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the sound of a low rumbling far off in the distance. They both looked all over, trying to pin down the source of the noise with no luck. Gradually, it got louder and louder, and only then did the two pilots see what was making the noise. Nine aircraft were coming in from over Presida- based on the angle they were approaching from, they seemed to be coming in from over the ocean. As the planes got closer, it didn't take long for Avery to identify them: a C/T-17 in the center of the formation, flanked by four SK.37s and four VX-23s.

Avery paused, that formation seemed familiar. Why did she seem to recognize it? 'Could it be?' she wondered silently, studying the aircraft as they came in for a landing. When the fighters approached, and she saw the iconic shade of red, she gasped. "By the Dust," she murmured just loud enough for ASH to hear.

Her wingman started at her, confused. "What? What's up with you?"

All Avery could do was meekly point a finger in the direction of the landing aircraft. "It- it's them… it's really them. I never thought… that I'd ever get to meet them, and holy shit, ASH please pinch me I have to still be asleep!" She could hardly believe her eyes, because sitting on the other end of the tarmac, spooling down their engines as they taxied into the hangar just next to Locksmith's was none other than Peacekeeping Squadron Crimson.