Author's Note:

So after thinking it over, I'm going to change this from a one-shot and into a connected and focused narrative. I hope you have enjoyed what I've posted so far and I look forward to posting more.

Please leave a review! They are always welcome and always helpful!

Have a great day!

... ... ... ... ... ...

Amber light from Vetra's Omni-tool bathed the storage room she had claimed as her personal living space. The warped tones of honey and goldenrod reminiscent of a writhing flame. As she absentmindedly scrolled through her device, checking for updates from any of her less-than-legal contacts, the shadows cast by her traveling fingers performed a twisting dance upon the adjacent wall. A skilled and experienced smuggler, she was constantly on the lookout for resources and equipment that could give the Nexus – and in extension the Pathfinder – a tactical advantage. It was monotonous. It was oftentimes thankless. But it was necessary for them to survive.

After several minutes of standing in the middle of the room, Vetra took a moment to relieve herself of her heavy outer coat. She yawned. It was deep and breathy and it betrayed the exhaustion hidden behind her determined nature. She lazily tossed the article of clothing onto her work station and eased her weary frame onto the therapeutic cushioning of her cot. Continuing to peruse the interface on her forearm, a vid-call notification appeared. Closing out her encrypted messages, the contact VI indicated that the caller was Vetra's younger sister, Sidera. She adjusted herself and accepted the call.

"Hey big sis! What's up?"

It didn't matter when it was or where it was from, but anytime Sid called she always seemed to be in a perpetual good mood or excited about something. If Vetra ever had to determine labels for those she knew, her sister's would probably read as Persistent Optimist. On the other hand, her own would probably be something between Hard Ass and The Responsible One. She didn't mind the title. But being the consistent voice of reason eventually made her grind her teeth in frustration.

"I'm doing alright Sid," she shrugged noncommittally, "how's your work on the Nexus coming along?"

"Oh, y'know, the usual. I'm pretty much just number crunching right now until the bigger issues get sorted out on the Nexus."

Vetra yawned again and sluggishly wiped the tears from her eyes. Sid's shifting expression projected her concern for her sister.

"You look really tired V. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Yeah kiddo, I'm fine. It's just been hectic lately. What with the Kett and assisting with setting up viable outposts, I've had a pretty full plate. Don't worry about me."

Sid gave her a skeptical look and sighed.

"You never know when to relax V. You have to stop working all the time. Take a moment for some rest and relaxation; go get some 'me time' every once in a while."

Vetra leaned into a sitting position and answered with a challenging tone.

"I take 'me time' all the time little sister. But I appreciate you trying to look out for me."

Sid rolled her eyes with exasperation and frowned.

"Stealing and smuggling doesn't exactly count Vetra. I'm talking like real relaxing. You know, go dancing, get a drink, and maybe go out on a date or something."

Before Vetra could fire back with a retort, Syd raised her hands in mock surrender.

"I'm just saying. Alright, I have to go. Duty calls; the Nexus never sleeps and all that. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Sounds good Sid. Stay safe."

The display of the Omni-tool shut down and the storage area was entombed in an inky darkness. She lay down on her side and closed her eyes, the toll of the last few days finally crashing down upon her. Moments passed and Vetra's mind began to meander through its sleepy stupor. She chuckled to herself at Syd's final comment.

I should go on a date? Ha. Good one Sid.

... ... ... ... ... ...

Sidera Nyx sat quietly at her desk. Like an overactive beehive, the staff of Nexus Operations buzzed around her, over caffeinated technicians sprinted to and fro as they attempted to accomplish one task before they are buried by a thousand more. The barking orders of Director Addison caused workers to run. The squealing whines of Director Tann caused workers to groan. An unorganized cacophony deafened the deck. Yet despite all of this noise and chaos, Sid found herself lost in thought. As the room around her shifted about, an uncomfortable sense of apprehension clawed its way into her abdomen. Her slender fingers undulated in a rhythmic rise and fall as she scoured her mind for ideas.

Sidera usually did her best to stay out of her older sister's business; she attempted to stay clear of anything related to Vetra's personal life. It was understood that certain areas were just simply off limits. While she did not appreciate that detail, she had begrudgingly come to terms with it. However this was different. She had a good reason for wanting to get involved this time. Well, if she was being completely honest, any reason was a 'good' reason to get involved in Vetra's business. Even if her older sister hated it. Regardless, Sid made her decision and reactivated the console with a flick of her wrist. She hastily scrolled through her station contacts. It didn't take long for Sid to locate her intended pawn. An excited mirth overtook her apprehension as she opened the messaging system. If Vetra wasn't going to take a vacation willingly, her little sister was just going to have to get creative.

... ... ... ... ... ...

The invasive yet familiar scent of gun oil occupied the Pathfinder's private quarters. Following every excursion in the field, Ryder was meticulous with cleaning, maintaining, and repairing his field gear. Every piece was disassembled and laid out neatly like a tapestry of steel. Every scratch and groove a monument to those lives that had been extinguished and of those that had been saved. Each varying component of warfare an evocative mosaic contrasted against primal potential. With practiced efficiency he slowly worked a gnarled rag through the barrel of his father's service pistol, the weapon's grip weathered by years of reliable use. As he removed dust and debris from within the mechanisms, he imagined the places and adventures the weapon – and in extension his father – had experienced while serving in the Alliance military. With one final pass of the cleaning rag he laid the pistol down upon his work area.

He leaned back into his chair. A grease stained hand wrapped around a perspiring glass of golden liquor. The liquid, while cool, ignited a nostalgic fire in his belly. It reminded him of summer days on Earth; of family outings and smiling dinners; of home. A picture of his parents smiled back at him from his desk. Once upon a time, in the world frozen in that frame, his mother and father were happy. Mom wasn't wasting away. Dad was actually present.

He took another sip of his drink.

It made his mouth taste of ash.

Ryder violently flipped the frame face down. The knotted mahogany produced an audible clap as it impacted the desk's steel surface. Placing his drink down, he pushed himself out of the seat and stretched, his joints popping and cracking from being hunched over too long. A red flashing light drew his attention back towards his desk. Activating his Omni-tool with a quick flick of the wrist, he answered the pending vid-call.

"This is Pathfinder Ryder."

"Hey Ryder! What's up?"

Ryder chuckled softly, amused at the energetic nature of the caller.

"Hey Sid, I'm just…" he paused and looked around at the gear scattered around his room, "…doing some cleaning. What can I do for you?"

Sid shifted nervously in her seat. She had already chewed the end of one talon down and she was slowly working on another.

"Would you be willing to do me a huge favor?"

He looked at her quizzically.

"I guess it would really have to depend on the favor Sid. Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?"

Sid laughed at Ryder's questioning. His seriousness reminiscent of Vetra whenever she thought Sid did something stupid or immature.

"Oh no," she said, waving her hand nonchalantly, "it's nothing that serious. Honestly, I need your help with my sister. I think she needs to get out more."

That piqued the Pathfinder's interest. It had been a few days since he and Vetra had really sat down and taken the time to talk. Truth be told, the last time they had held a full conversation had been after they returned from Voeld. He thought back to what she said to him, about how she made it clear that she would be there for him no matter the obstacle. He remembered that she actively sought him out after he lost his composure with Gil and Kallo over the intercom. Thinking of Vetra made him smile.

"Alright Sid, what did you have in mind?"

Sidera scooted into her desk excitedly, her eyes bright and a toothy grin plastered across her face.

"Okay, so, as I'm sure you know, my sister works way too hard and very rarely if ever takes a break."

Ryder nodded in agreement as he listened to the younger Turian speak.

"I need your help in getting her to take a day off and relax for once. She'd never admit it, but I know that she's been running herself into the ground. She needs some 'me time' Ryder. Like, badly."

"You're right. She does need to take more personal time." Ryder rubbed his chin intently, his mind running through possibilities. He started to pace back and forth milling options over in his head. "So what does she like to do?"

Sid huffed with exasperation.

"That's the problem Ryder. All she seems to get enjoyment from is smuggling, smuggling, and more smuggling. That's why I need your help with this."

He continued to walk back and forth. Ryder froze mid-step. A playful expression overtook his features as he regarded Sid's questioning look.

"I've got an idea."