Citadel Fuck yeah the citadel!

Captain Brady stepped into the Holding Area of Docking Bay 22. In two years it seemed they had almost finished the repairs left over from the destruction Cerberus unleashed. People were starting to get back into a normal life, and trying to adjust the extra security precautions. Check points were set up in every docking area, and everyone had to process through at every visit. Even better, the C-Sec now had the right to watch anyone that might be a suspicious person. At least they were in check by the Reasonable Belief law.

Thankfully, the more you visited, the faster the process went, and Aaron was nearly on a first name basis with the Turian at Docking Bay 22 and the Asari on Docking Bay 21. Occasionally there was a new face, but not often.

"Enjoy your stay at the Citadel, Captain Brady." Aaron nodded her thanks to the Turian, and nearly walked away.

"Hey." She began as she stopped mid-stride. "I'm wondering if a Lt. Commander Dexter Barnes passed through here recently."

"Have you arranged a meeting with him?"

"Ah...Not completely?"

"So that's a no?" He asked and she nodded. Zarok sighed and leaned on the counter. "I can't just tell you where exactly he is. You don't have the clearance, I'm sorry."

Captain Brady shrugged. "It was worth a shot, at least. Right?"
Zarok only stared at her.

"Enjoying my stay." She said as she continued her stride and waved to the Turian.

Tayseri Ward, Gaeron Botanical Gardens

It had taken nearly 5 years, but the damage from Sovereign's explosion was finally almost repaired. The ward had taken the brunt of debris from the dead Reaper's corpse, but now the botanical gardens were finally starting to bloom again. It was here that Lt.Cmdr Barnes was strolling, dressed in his civvies and glancing down at his omnitool every now and then as a news programme played through the device. His gait was relaxed, more so than it had been in a long time and his right hand was stuffed into the pocket of his trousers.

"Krogan militants...", the current story explained, "Drove back a group of extremists claiming to be remnants of Cerberus, the human extremist group..."

"Yaddah yaddah yaddah..." Dex murmured under his breath, having heard the story about a bunch of biotic terrorists who reckoned they were the next ubermensch three times already. At this stage he was just killing time, his buddy's ship - a Turian cruiser - was supposed to be arriving in an hour or so and getting lost in the wards was a damn sight better than sitting around in the temporary lodgings he'd rented in Bachjret Ward while on shore leave. It was quiet in the gardens, few people happened by either out of the desire to forget what the death of one reaper did, or perhaps they were ignorant about the progress that had been made in this arm of the Citadel. After 5 years the reconstruction began to feel more like a part of the Citadel's atmosphere than the rebuilt ward did.

It would be tempting to say that there were ghosts here, but after the war ended this place finally began to feel like the sanctuary it once was. A calming silence hung over the omnipresent low hum of the Citadel's systems and power grid.

A silence that was broken by an abrupt advert for the Fishdog Food Factory.

Dex tutted and found a bench.

Captain Brady cursed at yet another failure, but began poking away at her omni-tool. Every "shit", "fuck", and "piss" was audible to the few customers in the quiet cafe. An asari couple looked over a few times and commented on the vulgarities with disdain. Meanwhile, her sandwich had gotten cold and the bread soggy from steak.

"You gonna eat that?" Aaron looked up at Carson's grin, but his eyes were those of a begging puppy fixated on the sandwich. She pushed the plate towards her pilot and looked back at her omni-tool. Within an instant he was seated and cramming large bites into his mouth.

"If you choke you're going to leave me with the hassle of getting another pilot."

"But it's so delicious, even if it is cold. I feel like I could cry." He stated even with his mouth full.

"Don't let Natty hear you." Aaron smirked at her omni-tool.

"Yeah, no shit, Captain. She's always giving me the evil eye when I go down to the mess for a meal. I swear she's going to poison me one day."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have insulted the cuisine of Mother Russia." She finally broke her gaze from her omni-tool with a sigh and turned to Carson. He only shrugged and wiped his hands on his pants as he chewed the last bite of steak sandwich.

"Get through to the him yet?"

"Can't pin his location."

"I didn't think the Citadel's systems would be easy to gain access to unless you're a Keeper. Last I checked, you weren't a green quadruped."

"You know any other Captain would probably make you do push ups or something for your mouth."

"Yeah, but we've got such a strong bond of friendship developed-"

"How about a week's worth of dinner service with Chef Natty?" Aaron chuckled.

"There it is. The hard ass begins to show. Anyway, why don't you just send the letter through the Alliance to rerouted to the Lt. Commander?"

"Because that's too easy, and I like things the hard way. Besides, we've got a little time to kill, but you do have a point." She shrugged and began writing up the letter per Carson's suggestion.

FWD to Lt. Commander Dexter Barnes

Lt. Commander Barnes,

I am Captain Aaron Brady of the SSV Warsaw, and I have been given permission from Alliance Command to recruit you for a mission. Most of the details regarding the mission must be discussed in person due to security matters, as I'm sure you know.

I'll be on the Citadel awaiting a meeting with you at 1900. Meet me at Zakera Ward Docking Bay 22 Holding Area.

Regards,
Captain Aaron Brady
SSV Warsaw

"And there. The message is off." Aaron leaned back in her chair.

"How much do you know about this guy, Captain?"

"Only what I heard after the war and his personal file. I do know he's very good at what he does, and we probably need every edge we can get. Don't you have some brief shore leave to see to?"

Carson nodded and pushed himself with his chair back from the table. "Yeah, and I think Engineer Sloan is out looking for parts and tech. I should help since...you know, I'm the pilot."

"Yeah. Uh-huh." Aaron's eyes were back on her omni-tool. "I'm obligated to tell you to keep it within regs, but good luck with that. Report in at 2000 hours, and if all goes well we'll be out by 2200."

"No promises, Captain, because I am one smooth man machine." Carson slicked his short hair back, a pointless gesture really. Aaron looked up at him with her head canted slightly and a look calling him out on his bullshit.

"I can already smell your failure."

---

If the message reached the correct sender he wouldn't have gotten it very long ago. Still, Aaron stood in the docking bay holding area leaning against the railing and staring at her reflection in the glass. Captain's bars were straight and shining in the light. Not a single strand of hair was out of place, and her officer's uniform was pressed, clean, and immaculate. The only thing wrong and out of place were the scars.

Thanks to modern medicine she had the hearing in her left ear restored, and the docs were able to heal the burns quickly. The option for cosmetic surgery was always on the table. All she had to do was make an appointment and she could come out somewhat normal, but she never did.

Tendrils of scar tissue reached for her lips and eyes, clung to her cheek, and the flames left marks around her neck as if they had tried to strangle her. As ugly as they were, she had grown attached to them, and she had never given in to vanity anyway. They also served as a reminded of the war, and a reminder to new recruits that soldiers don't come out of battle like they do in the vids.

She looked out at the ships arriving, watching the various spacecraft from all walks of intelligent life fly by.

Barnes had cut his catch-up with Padus, his Turian buddy from the invasion short. They had been chatting in the Presidium and planning their big night out in Purgatory when the message reached his omni-tool, but the Lt.Commander was more than happy to skip a drunken night for the chance to take a spot on the Warsaw.

In the interest of getting off on the right foot, he'd gone back to his lodgings to change into the standard Alliance navy off-duty uniform, grooming his short hair neat and tidy. He considered the recently washed and pressed dress uniform, a golden bar sitting next to the gold-outlined black stripe on each shoulder glinting in the low light of the room. However after careful consideration, he felt it was a wiser decision to keep things semi-formal.

Zakera Ward Lift: 1909 Hours

On the long ride from the presidium to docking bay 22, Dex had been reading up on the Captain. Alone in the lift, he mumbled to himself absent-mindedly. "N7..." "War hero..." "Military family..." He could feel the vessel come to a halt and finally the doors slid open to reveal the busy area just beyond the checkpoint. Passing through the light blue curtains, each sounding off a beep as he was cleared, Lt.Commander Barnes peered around for anybody matching the image on file for Captain Brady.

At 1855 Captain Brady had checked her omni-tool for the time, but there was no sign of Barnes arrival. Then again, it was still a few minutes early. She moved from the windows at the far end where she watched ships fly by in peace to the section directly opposite of the elevator doors.

The minutes ticked by and the meeting time passed without Lt. Commander Barnes appearing. She stared down at the elevator and quietly waited for anyone to emerge. Finally, a very tall man exited the elevator nearly ten past the hour and she shifted into parade rest for his arrival. His face matched the image in his file, at least as far as she could tell from the distance, but her eye sight was damn good. No one gives a widow to someone who needs glasses.

She skipped the physical specifics in his profile when it was sent her way. Aaron had been more interested in his service record, state of mental health and if he still had all the necessary limbs for combat after the war. Height, weight, eye color, bicep size really didn't matter. As Barnes stepped through the checkpoints Aaron suddenly felt much smaller than usual, but she never let it show. She was the ship's captain after all, and she had earned every bit of that ship.

Aaron kept her hand clasped behind her back and slipped gracefully through the throng of people moving about the holding area.
"You're late." She said when she was within earshot of Barnes, but didn't close in on the sizable space left between them. No, this was the time for first impressions and judgement, but she assumed she would be judged as well. "Lt. Commander Barnes, I don't have many pet peeves, but tardiness is one of the few."

Barnes cleared the space between them in a few strides, she was the ranking officer and he thought nothing of it. As he neared, Dex left roughly three paces between them and snapped to attention, his off-duty uniform looked a damn sight more official than the rather scruffy clothes he had been stuffed into earlier. It was clear he had just shaved too, even in the blue light of the docking bay his jaw and chin looked a touch peachier than the rest of his face.

His hand was raised in a brief salute. "Sorry captain. You did catch me in the middle of shore leave. It won't happen again. What can I do for you?" He spoke in short sentences, almost rehearsed in their brevity. Lowering his hand and easing into a less upright position, the Lt.Commander awaited the Captain's response.

"At ease, soldier," Aaron said after a return salute, "and look casual about it." She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed and allowed herself a moment to look him over."

"We're both well aware that this is a bad place to get into the specifics of the mission. There are too many people to let the information out, but they create enough background noise for summary. First, unless you've been living under a rock for the past few years, you've probably heard of the SSV Normandy. After the Reaper threat was eliminated the Alliance Navy saw that it was good and created more in her image. Amen." Aaron's deadpan expression didn't break, nor did her eye contact with Lt. Commander Barnes. She wanted to see if he would look away whether from distraction or the uneasiness of being stared down. "I've been sent a mission regarding some extremist organizations gathering, which I'm sure you've heard about over the galactic news. Well, this shit gets a lot worse than what some pair of fake tits says on a display. To keep it short, I'm looking for the best and you're one of them. It's going to be rough, and there's always that chance of dying. Now I've got places I need to be to carry out my mission, so I'm going to give you thirty seconds to give me an answer starting...now."

His eyes didn't shift from hers until she had finished talking. It was almost as though it didn't even occur to him that she was staring him down, he nodded and appeared thoughtful all the while the captain was speaking.

Looking up and over her head, he cast his gaze on the ship docked outside. She was a beauty, to be sure. After a ponderous moment, he uttered; "And this comes from Alliance Command?"

"Yes, it does, Barnes. Yes, it does. Say yes, and you get on that," she jerked her thumb in the direction of the Warsaw, "tonight. No means you'll carry on, but I'll be a badass short. What will it be?"

"I'll have to speak to my squad in the 103rd, let 'em know." Barnes stated, mostly to himself. A wordless moment passed and he took a deep breath. Looking down at her and extending a hand. "You've got yourself a badass, sir."

"Glad to hear it." Aaron grinned and firmly shook his hand. "We're shooting to be leaving the dock at 2200 hours, but we can wait if it's going to take a little while to collect your things and get business taken care of. How long do you need?"

Barnes shook his head. "I've just got to grab my gear and I'll have C-sec ship my armour and weapons from the Orizaba...I'll be aboard before twenty-one hundred."

"Fantastic. I don't want to be on this station any longer than I have to. I'll make a call to the crew, and we'll be out of here at the scheduled time. Once we're on board, I'll be happy to answer any questions and fill you in on the details of the mission. Don't keep me waiting this time. Dismissed."