Three turians in a spaceship

F - Family

Vetra’s talon scrapes down her mandible, concern drawn across her stark turian features. Her chastisement of Sid echoes around the empty chamber, and Sid, like most teenagers, fusses and pouts before walking towards the shuttle in a surly huff. Vetra shakes her head, turns to Sabine, and sighs. The relief on her face is unambiguous-- not the first time she’s gone through something like this in relation to her kid sister. The worry never ends, and for the first time she sees in Sid, herself. She can’t help shake the worry from her, chuckle and shake her head once more.

‘Kids, can’t live with them, can’t kill ‘em’ is Drack’s motto, and has been for as long as he can remember. Of course, he means kids that aren’t krogan, and anyone under the age of one hundred. Although he may live apart from the Initiative, to have Kesh living on the Nexus, and a proverbial splinter under Tann’s scrawny salarian fingernails, gives him immense pride. Family means him standing between the future for krogan and a cruise missile-- he’s got the quads for it as much as he has the heart.

Kallo says his life is an exciting one, he’s seen more in the short time of the Initiative than most salarian’s will see in a lifetime. He knows there’s an ark out there, one with people just like him, who joined for more than a bureaucrat’s life. He stares at his hands and then over to Suvi, he turns and stares into the empty space ahead, expecting a sense of loneliness to wash over him. Instead, he hears Ryder’s voice and hope fills his heart.

Liam’s heart is embedded in a bunch of holo pictures of his family standing next to old cars and he wonders why he left. He still hasn’t figured out the real reason, why he said yes to the Initiative. He wasn’t looking for an escape, nothing consciously anyway. Maybe it was because he was handpicked by the Pathfinder, or simply his sense of adventure. He tells himself that Alec Ryder saw something in him that he couldn’t see in himself. There’s a whole galaxy to explore, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll find out what made Alec choose him.

Lexi’s heart is in the right place, concern marks every statement she makes, even if the crew don’t like it. Three hundred years feels like barely a scratch on the surface of all manner of medical training-- the real test is out here, with the Pathfinder and her team. Her concern is as a consummate professional, but if only they knew, at night-- she lies awake, considering them more than just patients, more than acquaintances and friends, they are family.

Cora has tried to fit in, the proverbial nerd at a jock party. It was the same way amongst the asari despite a shared biotic bond. She’s the outsider, the one who’s destiny to take over the role of Pathfinder was ripped from under her feet, with no comment from anyone. It’s not the first time something so significant was taken away; she knows it won’t be the last. If it weren’t for her loyalty to Alec, she might have baulked at remaining part of the Pathfinder team. She still yearns for something-- but she can’t quite put a finger on exactly what that is. Surprisingly, she’s not angry, instead it’s a strange calm and a loyalty transferred from father to daughter.

Gil’s not convinced anyone but he knows what they’re doing. Not on this ship anyways. There’s a weight he carries he feels he can never put down. Even back on the Nexus there seems little relief. The bar at least has good whiskey and company. When he discovers Ryder propped up on a stool, he has her in his sights for his poker face. She listens to him, and there’s a sceptical glance from her when he talks about Jill. He senses the discomfort, the sideways glance and the pursed lips and when the words ‘that doesn’t sound like a friend’ he doesn’t hear censure, but wisdom beyond years and advice he might not of otherwise considered.

Jaal’s knows these strangers that walk amongst them need time to adjust as much he and his people do. The story of a father, daughter and brother, makes his skin tingle-- empathy for an alien he knows little about. His own family torn apart by the kett and the horrors that followed. The Roekaar and his wayward siblings bought to reason by the steady hand of the Pathfinder. He welcomes her with open arms and his family fall into line. Trust is more than just a blood tie, its honoring an agreement, helping those who need it with measured decisions. His heart sings.

Peebee doesn’t need family. That’s what she tells herself anyway. A part of her though doesn’t believe it and for a brief moment, she misses her mother, her sister and all that she left behind. Leaving the Milky Way she thought she’d found a sense of self, but taking someone for granted isn’t that. Leaving the Nexus and K-- she stops from uttering the name-- the best thing she’s ever done; however the restlessness in her blood remains. It’s only when she finds Ryder, and the crew of the Tempest does she feel the return of that easy spirit only her family had given her.

Ryder asks Suvi why she is so hopeful, given everything that’s happened since they arrived. Suvi looks to her and her eyes sparkle, she’s spent a lifetime justifying herself to others, all she can do is smile. The truth though, blends in with the tea she drinks and the tears she’s shed for her family back home. When she hits the comm to the meeting room she hears laughter, cheer and bawdy jokes and remembers her heart is more than a rock and more than the expanse of space before her.

Sabine doesn’t dwell, her family is here in her heart—her mother and father forever a part of her. She taps her chest, her brother, Gabriel, still comatose, lies there too. If she were of a religious bent she might pray that he comes around soon, for now, she just hopes, and leaves the prayers for those who truly believe in a higher power.

Her boots tap against the hard metal of the Tempest’s floors as she makes her way to a squad meeting. Her eyes dance from one member to another as they gather and chatter in a small space. Then in hits her, family need not be blood, it can as easily be two hearts as lovers, an adopted Grandfather, a less irritating brother, a friend who knows loss, one who know the divine, or an ally to show you the way.

Family comes in many forms, loved or despised, a tether to someone not necessarily of your choosing, or perhaps it is, no blood mix necessary – we are six hundred years from home, our families-- if they weren’t with us-- are left behind to who knows what fate. The family we have in Andromeda, is here and now.

this is wonderful. I can tell that Sabine is a little dork like my Sara :D A little side note: it's "the angara" not "the angarans" Angaran is the adjective.

D - Dance

There’s a switch in her head that she’d like to turn off sometimes, especially when her mind is racing. So much to do, so much to fix, Gabriel still in a coma, and here she is wasting time to a heavy beat of music in the hailed hall of Kadara’s Queen.

Thud. Thump. Thud.

There’s no melody, no undercurrent of peacefulness and Sabine feels the familiar pricks of a headache behind her eyes.

What she wants is to meld back into the wall, be the wallflower she’s always been, the scientist, quietly observing and taking notes but never interfering with the subject of observation. Politicking is not for her.

She watches Sloane, sitting like the royalty she’s proclaimed herself to be, the light that shines over her-- a Kadara sunset of pink and gold that ordains her. Sabine then thinks of Reyes, slinking away like snake, and she regrets accepting his invitation. There’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach about this whole scenario— this is supposed to placate the angara; show good will towards the new alliance, but the buzz and tingle she feels in the room is awkward and unpleasant. She wonders if having SAM in her head makes her more attune to the electro chemical biology of the angara, most here don’t appear to like humans or any one from the Milky Way at all.

Sabine leans against the wall; its cold metallic surface brings her little comfort. She closes her eyes for a moment and the music, surprisingly, reminds her of home, of a time when she sat as a child watching her parents work together in their home built lab. Their dance, a strange respite from heads bent over terminals, data pads passing between one another and words spoken that she yet didn’t understand. The vision of them as the music volume increases is one where their fingers entwine, his arms creeping around her waist and hers around his neck. They laugh, a sound so rare from him, from her, from them, together. The memory makes her smile.

She opens her eyes, the dance here, in this room, is only one of politics, of artifice, of subterfuge, deception and aggressive posturing. The light from outside that shines over Sloane is as intense as the one who wears Kadara’s crown. It hurts her eyes and makes her blink. She turns and walks to the door to ask where Reyes has gone. The surly turian shrugs then puts up a single talon and points towards the entry hall. Sabine makes it an opportunity to leave the room.

The music is a dull beat behind her and her voice echoes against the empty void of the corridor as she calls his name.  She sees an open door ahead and murmuring from within. It’s a small warehouse and Reyes rummages amongst the crates. She enters, leans against a pillar and emits a loud click of disapproval, enough for Reyes to turn his head. He ignores her and turns back to his rummage until he finds what he’s looking for and holds up a bottle with a loud exclamation. Sabine shakes her head in annoyance. All this manoeuvring for a bottle of alcohol?

A sound from the corridor sets Reyes into panic, remnants of the buzz and tingle she had before plays out all over her body, but this time, enjoyable. Pressed close against him, his arms around her waist, hers around his neck, their lips and tongues merging into a dance she was not expecting. As the words of the person behind them dissolve into ambient sounds of retreat, they separate and the smirk he wears disarms her. He grabs her hand and they run.

She finds herself atop of one of Kadara Port’s highest buildings. Only the tip of the sun peaks above the horizon, sunset is almost complete. Fragments of dusty pinks and subdued yellows reflect onto the blue grey steel of buildings and dull the effects of the neon signs of the bustling open space below. As the whiskey slides down her throat, her anger at Reyes, both for bringing her to Sloane’s party and the earlier kiss, dissipate. He has his reasons, she guesses.

C - Crush

A thousand year age gap isn’t that much in the greater scheme of things —not really when she thinks about how long she’ll live. However, worry and doubt creep in when she thinks about how long a krogan might actually live. He’s already fourteen hundred years old, how many years does he have left? Not to mention what her mother and father would have said had they still been alive? They struggled to give her this living, to be more than some krogan mercenary’s— she bites her tongue at the pejorative term she’s thinking. It’s simply they wanted more from her than to be yet another asari dancer.

“Damn it,” she curses, glad for the privacy of the Tempest’s medbay. She’s not allowed such an indulgence of thought processes since they arrived in Andromeda, but now she can’t help it. What is it that Harry teased her about once— do asari dream of white weddings and white picket fences? She’d only recently heard about this phenomenon, of the way humans associated roles to individuals should they chose to ‘pair up’. Secretly, the idea fascinated her, so different to her own family’s experience. To find love and settle down, raise a family if desired. All these things she contemplated only in fantasy, for in reality, and for the most part, it was something that didn’t feel practical or even real. However, here in Andromeda-- on some golden world like Thessia, she imagines a hanging garden, fragrant flowers, the greenest of grasses and a view over a river or lake.

She sighs. By the goddess she’d hopes it doesn’t turn out to be like Omega. A grimy mining world where seediness infects every pore, where you expect corruption and vice around every corner. A place where innocence never lasts long. Even Eos with its barren and irradiated desert is more appealing.