[h2][color=lightblue]Pre-Launch Day, Six Centuries Ago
Luna
The Volintis Family[/color][/h2]

[indent]It was a rare sight. Something you didn't see every day.

Hazan Volintis in a suit and tie. And even rarer was that he was with his family.

The night was energetic. Jien Garson's speech had riled up the whole crowd. Now it was the post-speech "party" and that left Hazan with not a whole lot to do except drink a whole lot of alcohol and talk with his family. Which he'd already done a lot of over the last few years. Truth be told, he was rather bored about the whole thing. There was just so much people milling around in the convention area on Luna that he couldn't even get his bearings without getting bumped into and jostled enough to confuse him again. This was worse than any mapping mission he'd ever been on.

Well, not like he went on any more of those. Not since he took over as senior advisor for his dad's security company. Volintis Security Solutions was prospering on the Citadel, especially with the news of potential war on the horizon. The private security agency hadn't seen this many requests since they'd first opened up shop on the station all those years ago. But now that the family was packing up for Andromeda, Volintis Senior had entrusted the business to one of his closest associates, a former C-Sec security officer who took up the mantle as easily as he took a drink of water. After the Borealis and cleaning up his life on Omega, Hazan had been in the company for two years before he came across the Initiative. The news had been exciting: a whole new galaxy to explore and settle down in. His inner cartographer had been thrilled to no end. However the decision had been if he wanted to leave his family behind, and the inevitable answer was no. His family was coming along for the ride, like it or not.

Bah. Something just didn't feel right. Hazan excused himself from the small circle his folks had made and wandered off to the side of the convention hall, near one of the huge, thick windows that overlooked Earth. It wasn't his home planet, sure, but staring down at the big ball of blue and green, a thought crossed his mind: [color=lightblue][I]this planet represents one of many facets of our galaxy. And tomorrow we're leaving. Forever. Six centuries... Spirits.[/i][/color]

He stood there for a while, admiring the planet, a glass of iced turian brandy in a hand. Hazan let his thoughts wander, idly swirling his glass and listening to how the ice cubes clicked gently against each other and the sides of the glass. He couldn't imagine what it was like to actually leave. The imagery would be the same if he were still on one of the 132nd's ships orbiting Palaven for a resupply. The thought of...nothing being familiar any more after the six century long cryosleep was daunting. Almost impossible to swallow. Yet here he was, with the countless other future colonists that were eager and excited to start a new life in the stars. That feeling of adventure was still there, but as his thoughts roiled in his head, he slowly felt more uneasy. What if the journey wasn't a smooth one? What difference would six centuries make to the images of the home planets they'd been spoon-fed ever since they joined the initiative? The thought worried him, among other feelings of unease.

His reverie was interrupted by a tug on his arm. Hazan jumped slightly as his sister, a slightly taller and younger turian, took a place next to him. Catrine Volintis, a more refined person than he'd ever be. Unlike him, she'd gone into the social and psychological side of war, deciding instead to serve aboard a medical frigate while she took further studies in headshrinking. Now she was a bonafide psychologist and mental analyst who was often called upon to help soldiers with PTSD or work stress. She gave him a quizzical look and gestured at the window with a talon.

"Admiring the view?"

Hazan shook his head.

[color=lightblue]"Nah. Just gonna...miss this place, when we're gone. I left so much behind, y'know. The crew of the Borealis. My friends in the 132nd. My... Girlfriend. I'm worried that I'm gonna regret going to Andromeda."[/color]

Catrine nodded and hummed in understanding, the intent in her sub-vocals clear. She leaned against his shoulder a little and chuckled.

"Just like you to worry so much, silly Haze. You'll be fine, and we'll be fine too. We're all in this together, remember? That's what dad told us."

Dad. Demetri Volintis. A legend in their family line. Once he'd been a fleet commander way back when he was younger, and he'd had the chance to become a trainer of budding young captains in the navy. Now he was the head of VSS on the Citadel, lending his experience in seeking military talent to those who needed bodyguards or escort details, from cargo ships to weddings and everything in between. The older turian stood with his wife a ways away from Hazan and his sister, no doubt talking and reminiscing of days gone by. His dad had been one of his idols growing up, but when he'd been shipped off and gotten even older and more mature, Hazan had realised his dad was someone he didn't want to be: a stuffy, old war veteran with too much to talk about and a boring desk job. His personality made him an explorer, an adventurer. Someone who loved the wide open spaces and seeing all the sights the galaxy had in store. Then again, after he'd left the [i]Borealis[/i], he'd appreciated settling down in the Citadel and doing desk work for a while as a bit of a reprieve from the non-stop action that was mercenary work.

Catrine nudged him on the arm and woke him from his brief reverie. A concerned look crossed her face as she stared at him.

"You...okay? You blanked out for a moment there. Something wrong, Haze?"

Hazan sighed and shook his head, trying his best to clear the stubborn sad thoughts from his head. After all, he was here to be happy that he was leaving.

[color=lightblue]"Sorry. I, uh, spaced out. Just lost in thought, I guess."[/color]

She chuckled and hummed softly.

"Y'know, you've been doing that a lot, especially since you came back from that horrible few years you disappeared to that nasty business in the Terminus systems. Something followed you back here, didn't it."

[color=lightblue]"Yeah...a lot of things followed me back from my time when I went dark. Horrible, terrible things that I've seen with my own eyes."[/color]

His memory went back to his very first job with the [i]Borealis[/i] crew: taking down a gang of slavers working in the depths of Omega. Killing them was just business, but when he saw the slaves after they were done... It was one of many mental scars he'd gain over the course of his military and mercenary life. Slavers, pirates and smugglers dragging prisoners across space were the worst. Sometimes, during his patrols, they'd come across hastily abandoned freighters with pirate markings, some burned and others intact, but with cargo on board that was destroyed before the pirates jumped ship. And sometimes, that cargo was people. Live and dead, crammed into tiny spaces, smuggled across borders to be sold as slaves, or worse: parts. It was everywhere, especially in the Terminus systems. He was just glad that the crews he'd run with hadn't gone into those ventures. The thought brought a bad taste to his mouth, one that made him rumble displeasure in his sub-vocals as he tried to clear the thoughts from his head.

"I can tell. Y'know, you should see a shrink if you can. Bottling all that emotion up isn't healthy for you."

[color=lightblue]"Soon, Cat. Soon-"[/color]

His sister took him by the shoulders and held him firm.

"I'm serious, Hazan. From a professional standpoint. I [i]am[/i] a shrink, after all. If you want, I could totally help you-"

Hazan interrupted her with a talon against her mandibles.

[color=lightblue]"No need, Cat. I'll be fine. Once we're in Andromeda, I'll go see a shrink. I promise."[/color]

She harrumphed and crossed her arms.

"You're lying. I can tell too. You always make that face when you say something just to get someone off your back."

[color=lightblue]"Face? What face? This is my normal fa-"[/color]

He was promptly interrupted by a small alert ringing from his omni tool. Hazan tapped a few buttons to bring it up and found himself being the subject of an identity scan. Catrine looked on in curiosity as her elder brother brought up his own scanner software to counter whoever or whatever was examining him, and found a very familiar drone hovering in the air high above the crowd. With a bloom of warmth in his heart, he smirked and fired off a digital message into the drone and sent it on his way. His omni tool powered down as his sister stared at him, even more curious than before.

"What was that about?"

Hazan chuckled.

[color=lightblue]"A friend from the Borealis. One I didn't expect to see here. If that drone's around, she's here. I think she's trying to find if there's other crew members in the initiative."[/color]

Catrine smirked and thumped him on the shoulder.

"Well doesn't that mean you should go find her? Don't worry, I'll tell mom and dad. They'll understand."

He nodded and smiled in response, giving his little sister a hug too. 

[color=lightblue]"Yeah. Yeah, I will. I'll meet up with you guys later then. I've got a crew to reunite with."[/color]

With that said, he waved a brief, temporary goodbye to his sister and began backtracking Sarah's remote piloting signal to the omni tool of a certain ex-Alliance VI technician and engineer named Serena Mathews.[/indent]

[hr]
[h2][color=lightblue]Present Day
Prodromos, Eos
Barracks
Roll Call[/color][/h2]

The turian stared wistfully at the small, oval-shaped locket on his neck. Within the tiny locket were two pictures: one of his family, the other of him and his girlfriend. The metal still felt so pristine in his talons, even though he knew all of it was centuries old from the journey across space. 

[color=lightblue][I]At least... At least I still have one of these pictures in real life. The other...[/I][/color]

He sighed and closed the locket, slipping it back underneath his plain white shirt. The slender turian was relaxing on his upper bunk, waiting for...something, apparently. He didn't know what, but the thing about the military was that you were always rushing somewhere to wait, or waiting for someone to rush you somewhere else. Hazan had caught the first transport from the Nexus out to Prodromos the day he was accepted into APEX and posted to a fireteam, mainly because he couldn't wait and also due to the fact that his team leader had contacted him immediately after and requested for a rendezvous on the planet itself. He'd heard of what the human Pathfinder, Sara Ryder, had done. Fixed the planet somehow. Recalibrated its environment. An amazing piece of work. The outpost had come up shortly afterwards, and though it was still in the process of being fully built, he wanted to be on the crew that made Eos their temporary home away from home. What was even more amazing was the people he'd found while waiting for the fireteam to assemble itself. No less than half of the [i]Borealis[/i] crew lay in their own bunks in the hastily modified barracks building. Over there to his right was Serena, sitting at a table while she fiddled with her drone, Del. In the bunk beneath him was Khosin, although the batarian wasn't there at the moment, and he'd memorised the bunk positions of Dexuret and Firuzeh as well. Familiar faces in an unfamiliar land that set him at ease the moment he knew that they were a part of the team, and he was pretty sure they were glad he was around too, if a lot older and wiser(?).

Hazan chuckled to himself and shrugged. What a small galaxy it was. He knew Serena was on the Nexus because he'd spotted her drone during the speech night as it scanned him. But the others...the others were unexpected. Khosin especially. He briefly wondered what gods he'd prayed to or bribed to get himself a spot on the Nexus, but he put those thoughts aside. Khosin was an all-round good man and good soldier, unlike many regular batarians. Plus, they'd been on so many missions together he was embarrassed to count how many. In a firefight, he trusted that man more than he trusted all the newer team members.

As he went back to reading his detective novel on his datapad, his omni-tool flashed red with a message from team leader Sabinus Tannyx. The man had- was still dating, he hastily corrected himself, one of the [i]Borealis[/i] crew too: Tanya Carson, their other experienced ship and drone engineer. He knew she and Serena had a very good friendship, bonding over their drones in the junker's hangar bay while they talked shop and fixed electronics. The crew of the junker as a whole was a tight knit crew, almost a family even. Even now, he smiled at the memories of those left behind; the big, sullen krogan Tonka, whom he'd probably heard laughing on pre-launch day. Drono, their sickly but extremely capable drell. Vellios.

Vellios. Thinking about the more mature, yet somehow childish turian brought heaviness to his heart. He was the one that he felt closest to. Vel had been like a brother to him, even through his mistakes. He missed him dearly, as he did everyone else on the [i]Borealis[/i].

But, the message took precedence. Form up outside in ten minutes, it said. Without a word, Hazan powered down his datapad and put together his scouting armour, restored to its former glory by APEX armourers after the years of abuse it'd suffered through his life. He clamped each part to himself like he was putting on a tailored suit, each piece coming together on the main bodysuit until everything was in place. He grabbed his guns, mostly the same ones he'd used during his time in the Milky Way except for his sniper rifle (which was a shiny new M-23 Viper he'd picked up on the Nexus before leaving) and stowed them accordingly. He'd figured the current mission wasn't going to be that heavy, so he elected to bring his Mattock and Predator alongside the Viper; both rifles went onto his back rigging while his pistol clung to his hip. The visor he'd never stopped wearing went onto his right temple and the knife that had never failed him went onto his lower back, snug inside a hidden pouch that concealed the deadly sharp blade. Then, with all gear accounted for (and his snazzy desert camouflage shemagh tucked into a pouch), he strode outside and joined the rest as they formed up and stood at attention. All except one.

And it had to be Serena.

Hazan had to suppress a groan and a chuckle as Serena, ignoring all pretense of military discipline, strode right up to Sabinus and Tazen (and the new...alien? Anjor was his name, and his species on the docket had said Angara, so he assumed new species) and greeted them with a hearty hello and an introduction. Meanwhile the Irish-American soldier, Clyff was his name, stood at attention and snapped up to a crisp salute. According to the dossiers of the team he'd read, the man was ex-Alliance, just like Serena. He was a security chief and trained in negotiation, hostage rescue and crisis response. An admirable set of skills, something Hazan admitted to himself that he didn't have. He admired the human's discipline, something that Serena was lacking apparently, and joined the human in the salute and in stating his name and rank.

[color=lightblue]"Lieutenant Hazan Volintis. Turian navy, 132nd Light Patrol Squadron. Reporting as ordered, sir."[/color]