#ssv Berlin

[lucan-multiverse]

cosmic sidestep - their multiverse part 14

[Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4], [Part 5], [Part 6a], [Part 6b], [Part 7], [Part 8], [Part 9], [Part 10], [Part 11], [Part 12], [Part 13]

There’s a tense silence on the bridge as Isaac surveys the ship in front of them through the Berlin’s copious holoscreens. It’s nothing like any of his crew have seen before, clearly not of their world, and clearly not of Luc’s either.

Their intra-reality visitor, his son in a different universe and a man he now thinks of as a friend- looks defeated.

“Are you sure?” Isaac asks quietly again. He can feel the devastation rolling off Luc in waves.

Luc nods, slowly. White knuckled, he grips the edge of the console like it’s the only thing holding him up and his face, still boyish despite his almost mid-30’s years, is a mask of utter desolation. Isaac knows Luc had been pinning all his hopes that the next thing the rift spat out would be his husband and his parents-

They’re all saddened to know it isn��t.

“It’s nothing I’ve seen before,” Luc finally manages to ground out. The way he keeps his face unexpressive, not betraying his inner turmoil, and the way he forces himself to straighten and look Isaac in the eye makes Isaac surge inwardly with an unexpected pride. Isaac can see the history of his military background in him, the way his fathers have raised him. Sees the same bulwark strength Isaac carries echo in him. He half wonders if he could ever shape Luca like this, before realizing with a pang that chance has passed. “Not in your databases, nothing in mine,” Luc continues. “Whatever it is…. It looks like it’s barely functional.”

“Have there been any hails? A distress call? Beacon? Anything?” Isaac half turns, directing his question to the flame haired girl at a nearby console. Soraya’s hands fly over her controls, a furrow between her brow. Isaac had been concerned to learn of the girl’s budding relationship with what was arguably the most volatile of the phoenix left on his ship. He couldn’t turn around now without the brooding golden phoenix lurking in the shadows on the bridge, as though watching over his new playmate. The captain wanted to order Soraya to keep her distance, to not let whatever fascination she had developed for the phoenix to catch a foothold inside her heart - but in light of the way he himself had taken up with a phoenix of his own, it would be hypocritical to say the least.

A Captain should lead by example and in this, he couldn’t.

He felt Mason at his back now, calm and quiet, also watching Luc stare out at the ship floating beyond their sensors, and wished they were still in his quarters, wished he was still full and riding waves of bliss with Mason’s arms around him.

Wished, pointlessly, that no new crisis was presenting itself.

He’s so goddamn tired these days.

“No, Sir,” she answers. “Nothing.”

“Hail them again,” Isaac says and Soraya soon nods to signal an open channel. He takes a breath and steels himself.

“This is Captain Isaac Cerrillo of the System’s Alliance starship the SSV Berlin. Unidentified ship, you are in restricted space and have entered our sensor range without authorization. State your identity and purpose immediately. Failure to comply will result in defensive actions.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“No response, Captain.”

Isaac doesn’t bother to hide the frown. Beside him, Luc’s face is a mask of concentration. There’s something uneasy in Isaac’s gut he can’t ignore.

“Burgaw, where is Lieutenant Ryan?”

Burgaw looks up from her datapad. “He’s not rostered on until eighteen hundred hours. He’s currently in his quarters.”

With Luca, she doesn’t bother to add.

“Get him up here. I want him on the helm if this vessel proves to be unfriend-“

“Aye, aye, I’m already here,” a grumble comes in a distinct Scottish lilt. Ryan stalks past and Isaac pointedly ignores the hitch of his pants as he does up the last of his uniform’s zipper as he walks. The grizzled pilot’s hair is a mess and Isaac doesn’t need to turn around to know Luca will be lurking in the background.

Isaac swallows down the bad taste in his mouth like always. Luca is happy with the pilot, he reminds himself. It’s all that matters.

Ryan unceremoniously orders Strickland out of his pilot’s seat and settles in as the younger man skulks away. Isaac barely gives Ryan all of five seconds before he issues his orders.

“Lieutenant Ryan, adjust Berlin’s heading away from the unidentified vessel and warm up the engines. We don’t know who they are or what they want and I want a quick exit strategy. If it so much even twitches, I want it burned in the slag of our FTL drives. Keep us ready for immediate evasive action.”

Ryan’s voice held a note of grim satisfaction. “Aye, Captain. Understood.”

Isaac didn’t get a chance to relax before Soraya made a small sound of surprise. He turned his head sharply to look over her shoulder at her screens. “What is it, Ellis?”

“Sir, there looks like there’s some kind of… Sir, I think they’re scanning us.”

“So there is someone on that ship.”

“Yes, Sir. It seems so.”

“Is the scan a direct response to ours?”

Soraya frowned. “No, Sir. I don’t think so. They shouldn’t have been able to detect it.”

“Scan them back and make it obvious. Armaments, lock all weapons on the unidentified vessel and open a channel once we’re in position. I’m not taking any chances. Lieutenant Ryan?”

It’s only the subtlest lurch under their feet as the Berlin’s core spun up. Out the viewports, the position of the stars shifted.

“In position,” Ryan growls. The vibrations of the Berlin felt oddly soothing as Isaac braced himself once again.

“Channel open, Captain.”

Isaac took another breath. “Unidentified vessel-“

There’s a crackle over the comm and a new voice fills the helm of the Berlin’s speakers. A voice, oddly familiar and enough that beside him, Luc’s knees almost buckle.

Isaac’s blood goes cold. “On screen,” he orders curtly.

On the wide monitor in front of them, the transmitted image skips and flickers before settling and a collective gasp as the face on the other end comes into view.

Isaac hadn’t been prepared for it but in hindsight, perhaps he should have been

“Nice ship ye got there,” Blake Ryan drawls, but he’s older. Worn. Hardened. There’s a dangerous edge in his voice Isaac recognizes.

And then, from the pilot’s seat, a simple, depressed, “Aw, fuck.”

[sunshine-luca]

before

The pilot was as crotchety and as difficult to work with as everyone warned him to be… But Luca fell in love with him anyway.

He’d arrived Heathrow in the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen into the sky he thought- until he realised it was just the dreary English weather leaving a pall over his jetlagged mood. He trundled out of the airport with his suitcase and straight into a row of gleaming black cars while a guy not much older than himself with blue eyes and a ready smile held his name up on a plaque.

“Seamus, right?” Luca said, squinting into the fog. Fuck, he was tired. He hadn’t managed a wink of sleep on the twenty two plus hour flight over, too anxious, too nervous to be leaving his home and venturing somewhere new. He’d insisted on heading to the UK for his gap year, just like every one of this classmates and well against his father’s advice. Luca couldn’t blame Isaac really. They’d found each other late in life, when Luca was almost fully grown and the surprise of Luca’s parentage had been a shock to them both.

But of all nights Luca had laid awake as a child, wishing his long lost parent would come to rescue him from the depressing hell of the group home, he never expected his biological father would be a military captain, one of the youngest officers to ever to take command of the SSV Berlin.

Nor would Luca have expected his complicated birth story, or the part Isaac’s lover Mason, a secret super-solider of a paramilitary organisation no one had ever heard of to be a part of it. Mason had tracked Luca down and fallen in love with Isaac in the process of reuniting them.

Part of Luca felt bad for leaving the base in Sydney and going half way around the world. He felt bad, but not… wrong. Something was calling him. Something that had made him yearn to see the wilds of Scotland for as long as he could remember. He wondered if it was something to do with his mother, except he didn’t quite have a mother. No one knew who she was, or where she came from, her records expunged from the lab’s logs years before Luca ever ended up in the home. But Luca wondered. He wondered if the pull he felt for a country he had never been to was because of her.

“Rourke, actually,” the man laughed. He didn’t have the thick Scottish brogue Luca had expected. This man sounded almost… American. “I’ll still answer to Seamus but most people call me Rourke.”

Luca tried not to think too hard about that. His brain wasn’t functioning with so little sleep anyway. “Uh. Okay.”

Rourke tilted his head, studying Luca. “You look dead on your feet. Come on, get in the car and I’ll take you back to the estate.” He glanced at the two men Luca hadn’t initially noticed, one big and dark gold, the other pale like the sun. Both in black, both mildly terrifying. They moved away, one sliding into the car, the other keeping watch while Rourke herded Luca into the plush leather seats of the back of the black Audi.

Rourke slid in beside him and the doors slammed. They were soon peeling away from the curb, past the crush of people coming and going from the terminal. Luca tried to answer the few questions Rourke had for him, friendly things, getting to know you things, but he was too tired to stay awake.

He fell asleep before they even hit the highway.

--

The estate was unlike anything Luca had ever seen. It was sprawling and ancient, and more like a compound than what he would have expected from some prissy little country manor. The title of castle that Rourke casually threw around as a moniker was more accurate than Luca realised. The main house was beautiful and old but meticulously maintained. The money it must take to upkeep this estate must be phenomenal but when Rourke started to talk about the private airfield and the collection of planes the O’Riain family held, Luca soon learned that money wasn’t an issue.

When Luca had rebelled against Isaac’s reluctance to allow him to join the estate, Mason had pulled him aside quietly.

“You don’t know what you’ll become a part of, Luc,” Mason said. His green eyes were troubled. “What they do… what they control… It’s not for the faint of heart.”

Luca had scoffed. “Mase, what do you think is going to happen? I just want to work on the planes and see a bit of Scotland while I’m there. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I mean, these guys have their own private collection – and I’ll get a chance to work on all of them. How many people will get to say that? Let alone my age!”

Mason hadn’t said much more. It would have fallen on deaf ears anyway. Luca was determined to go and he was determined to put his degree to good use and get his hands on the private collection of vintage planes and private jets that the eldest O’Riain held dear.

Luca had wondered about him with a bit of apprehension when Isaac had mentioned him in passing. By all accounts, Lt. Blake Ryan was a hardnosed man who didn’t suffer any bullshit. He served with Isaac back in the day and the two had remained friends. Luca had tried to press for details but Isaac had been tight lipped. He was apprehensive about meeting the pilot but reasoned he probably wouldn’t really have all that much to do with him. He’d be in the air, Luca would be on the ground. Maybe one day, Luca might bother to get his flight hours up, but the urgency wasn’t there. He was only twenty one, there was plenty of time for that.

Rourke showed him to his room – more of a suite really – all brocade and gilded gold surfaces, a four poster bed and a view over the estate gardens and the distant rugged highlands in the distance. Luca barely noticed the finer details, kicking off his shoes and falling down face first onto the sheets.

Rourke chuckled from behind him. “Alright, I’ll leave you to get settled then.”

The door closed with a soft snick and then Luca was alone.

--

It took Luca four days to truly overcome his jetlag and make the mental switch from southern hemisphere to northern hemisphere. Everything was back to front – he’d left in the autumn, just as the cool was starting to creep but here there was new life blooming everywhere. Even the weather – foggy and cold and grey in London, was a distant memory in the Scottish countryside.

He started to learn his way around the castle. From the inside, it really did feel like a castle with long dark hallways and flickering lights in the wall sconces. They didn’t flicker because of a naked flame, but more because the wiring in this particular wing was dated back before the war and was sorely in need of an upgrade. Luca didn’t mind it though. Sometimes walking back from the dining room at the front of the sprawling building, he would pad along the marble floors and imagine himself in flowing robes with a circlet of office perched on top of his unruly curls. A silly little fantasy he would had quickly grown out of except that it followed him into his dreams.

And his dreams. He told himself it was the jetlag, but his heart whispered something else.

He dreamed of the Scottish countryside, the windy mores and tight forests. He dreamed of fire pits and the clash of swords, of hands on his skin and long hair the colour of flames. One night he had even dreamed of soft linen, draped over a swollen belly – his swollen belly and woke up in a cold sweat with his heart racing so hard he thought he might vomit.

The pull he thought would ease when he finally touched down in this land didn’t fade. It only grew stronger.

By day five, he felt he had a handle on the time zones and the estate. Rourke was a good guy, and Luca felt an odd kind of kinship with him being another ‘outsider’. Rourke had more of a claim than Luca realised though. He was O’Riain blood too, but like Luca, had grown up away from the centre of the vortex that made him. Rourke introduced him to the staff, showed him around the estate and when Luca finally declared himself ready and able to get to work, Rourke’s private smile had been hard to read.

“I have to warn you, Ryan is… a hard man to get to know.”

Luca shrugged as he climbed into the car beside Rourke. He was dressed to get down to business, overalls and boots, his jewellery left back in his room. The only nod he kept to his individual style was his black painted fingernails. They’d probably get all greased up anyway.

“Everyone keeps telling me. I can’t wait to meet this big, bad scary pilot,” Luca teased. He wasn’t lying, he did want to meet Blake O’Riain, but mostly so he could put a face to the name everyone whispered. Would he look like his sister, the formidable and stunningly beautiful Skye? Luca had been struck speechless when he’d met her briefly in the hallways one morning. Her stilettos were sharp enough to kill someone and they only served to make her already impressive height even more pronounced.

She was incredible.

Or would the pilot be as crotchety as they claimed, middle aged and grumpy, dismissive of the family name and the work his sister did to keep the funds flowing so that he could indulge in his private passion for planes?

Luca was so curious to find out.

The Range Rover bumped along the rocky ground to the airfield. In the distance, the state of the art hangar came into view. Low and squat and gleaming silver, it looked surprising not out of place in the rugged Scottish countryside.

“Wow,” Luca said, eyes wide. “That’s the hangar?”

Rourke’s grin was smug. “It’s one of three. This is the main operational hangar though. The one with the working planes.”

The ones you’ll be expected to maintain, Rourke didn’t say.

There was already a car in place, parked on the far side of the hangar near the secured doors. Rourke pulled the Range Rover up in a crunch of gravel and got out. Luca followed, watched keenly as he did something complicated on the keypad then handed Luca a card of his own.

Rourke’s blue eyes had momentarily lost their warmth. “We don’t fuck around with security.”

Luca thought of the hulking shadows, never too far out of reach, always lurking in the corners of the estate and a shiver ran down his spine. He took the card carefully and slipped the lanyard over his neck before tucking it on the inside of his shirt. “Understood.”

Rourke seemed pleased with that and pushed the door open. It immediately opened into a cavernous space, shiny concrete floors that stretched as far as the eye could see. The entire space was air conditioned and well lit, because fuck, of course it would be. These O’Riain’s wanted for nothing and Luca felt a burst of excitement to know this is where he was going to be working.

At the far end of the space, a walled space jutted out and glass windows showed a figure moving around on the inside. The offices. On the other side of that, more rooms hug the distant walls- more offices, a kitchen and a lounge. Above the offices hugging the domed ceiling was another set of rooms.

Rourke caught the way Luca’s eyes followed the white spiral staircase to the upper level. “That’s Ryan’s space. He doesn’t often come back to the main house.”

“He lives here?”

Rourke shrugged. “When he’s not in the air.”

Luca’s heart fell slightly. If Ryan was as grumpy and as difficult to work with as they all seemed to hint, it might not be much fun having him in such close proximity when he wasn’t flying.

Rourke struck out across the hangar, passing by the belly of the nearest jet. Luca had expected only one to be in the hangar but as they passed, he saw another two beautiful birds standing silent nearby. Holy shit. These were state of the art and costly and only a handful of them existed in the world.

His excitement grew and his brain skipped ahead to the moment when he would be able to call his father and gloat that the planes he was going to be able to work on would look pretty fucking ace on his resume.

They were halfway across the hangar when the office door crashed open and the figure inside strode out. His face was contorted in barely restrained annoyance and even from this distance, Luca could see the same O’Riain shade of blue of his eyes. He wasn’t as old as Luca had expected, mid-thirties with lines around his eyes and mouth that showed a life well lived. His hair didn’t match the reddish tint of his close beard and for a second, Luca’s gaze was stuck on the streak of silver that was just beginning to form at his forehead when it caught the light.

But it was his strong, tattooed hands when he started gesturing that made something hot and tight coil in the centre of his belly.

“Well, it’s about fookin’ time,” Ryan was muttering as he approached. Luca hung back, hiding a little shamefully at Rourke’s back. He wasn’t a tall guy, he was fine boned and small and Rourke was none of those things. It was easy to hide. “I was expectin’ ye hours ago.”

Rourke was unperturbed by Ryan’s apparent temper. “Why? Have you got somewhere you need to be?”

“Aye, as a matter of fact, I do. I need these birds fuelled up and ready to go, and the last fookin’ numpty you left me bolted two days ago without a single fookin’ word.”

“Did you try asking him nicely where he was going?”

Luca tried to hide his snicker at Rourke’s mildly asked question. The smirk on the younger man’s face was unmistakable, and probably really brave from what Luca understood. Ryan stopped in his tracks and levelled a glare at Rourke that was cold enough to rival the arctic.  

“Just because ye’ve got my sister’s ear right now doesn’t mean I cannae make life a living hell for ye too, boyo.” Ryan’s gaze shifted as Luca stepped out from behind Rourke’s shadow. For half a second, he looked like he’d been struck with something – his mouth twisted silently, his eyes widened – barely a flash before he was back to scowling. “And who the fuck is this?”

--

Ryan wasn’t as scary as they let on, providing Luca knew the work.

Which he did.

Rourke had left him in Ryan’s hands and Luca moved fast to familiarize himself with the birds in question, the tools and equipment on display. Normally a pre-flight check like this would take a few hours but Ryan had already made a start on it. Luca liked that. Ryan wasn’t just a pilot, he knew his way around the guts and hearts of the planes too.

There was a lot Luca was surprised to like about Ryan.

At first, Luca kept his distance where he could. He had to. The weird, instant spark of attraction that had flared to life burned steadily in his gut. Ryan looked good. He smelled good. The warmth radiating off him when Luca moved too close felt like the sun and Luca wanted to be Icarus. He found himself listening to every word Ryan said, committing all of it to memory. The timbre of his voice made Luca itch under his skin, the movement of his hands made Luca wonder what it would be like to have those hands on him- And the ink… it was everywhere. Luca shouldn’t have been surprised, knowing Skye’s penchant for art on her body, but Ryan’s made him stare, made him wonder what else he had painted on his skin. Made him wonder if every time Ryan handed him a tool or brushed past him as he climbed into the plane or held his gaze a little longer than necessary – if maybe the same burn was low in Ryan’s gut too.

It was bad, though, wasn’t it? To want a man like Ryan. There were so many reasons why it was a bad idea – but when he went back to the castle and lay in his suite under the canopy of the four poster bed and jerked off to thoughts of the pilot, Luca couldn’t remember what any of them were.

[gabriel-patterson]

(A mix of X and X, trying to worm my way in here, lol.)

Gabriel was used to making grand entrances, it had somewhat become part of the persona when Cerberus changed him from a regular soldier to a monster. Kick the door in, lasso whatever was on the other side close and go to town.

 Babysitting a MAU was… not as dramatic.

Downright boring if Gabriel was to be honest with himself. He took the job seriously, anything as much as looking at the cargo wrong would be dealt with accordingly, but they didn't even hit turbulence on the way over to the Berlin.

 He kept Jarvis up to speed, providing ETA's when he could and before Gabriel punched something out of boredom, they reached their target. The shuttled homed in towards its target, connecting to the ship and as men filled the shuttle to handle the cargo, Gabriel's job was finished. At least the boring part.

 "Where's Major Rose, fucker owes me a drink."

 "The drink will have to wait, sir. Captain Cerrillo is waiting for you."

 "Great. Brass. Let's get it over with," Gabriel grumbled as he followed the soldier, just giving him a quick look-over so he would remember him. Gabriel wasn't Alliance anymore after all, there were no need for salutes or introductions. Still, he took his time to tap out a quick message to Archer to let him know that he was there and, after a moment of hesitation, sent one to Maddox too. The guy had been balls-deep in him after all so he supposed he owed him a little notification.

 Thankfully it seemed like the Captain, Cerrillo, wasn't very interested in keeping up with the formalities either so when they met, Gabriel merely nodded at him. Information was given, quickly and efficiently before Gabriel smirked as Cerrillo seemed stumped at the lack of a callcard. "Never got one given, Captain," he mused. "Guess I wasn't cool enough to join that club or nobody decided to inform me. Do I get to pick my own or?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, kept his eyes on Cerrillo as he shifted from one foot to the other. "Dunno what your theme is, with Axaj, Huntsman, Hurricane and whatever other names I've heard, can barely keep them apart as it is. Sounds like personality-traits or fighting-styles to me so… Dragon. I fly in, I breathe fire and I destroy. Good enough?"

[luca-moreno]

Captain Isaac Cerrillo, commander in chief of the SSV Berlin and all her crew and tech, really doesn’t really have time for this, but for Luca, somehow he finds it anyway.

“Okay, so are you ready?” the ensign practically bounces with excitement, curls flying wildly. His eyes are shining and bright and his enthusiasm is as infectious as the Teukrian flu. Isaac can’t help but be caught up in it. “This is gonna be awesome, Captain. Just wait until you see it.”

Isaac quirks an eyebrow. “I’m waiting.”

“Okay, okay, so remember how I asked if I could have a robot pet? And I asked Davis and Commander Miller but they said to ask you and then you said-“

“Yes, I remember, I was there.”

Luca grins. “Right, right! Okay, well, so Harris and I got together and we’ve been working on something-“

“It doesn’t go boom, I hope.”

Luca cracks up at that. “No! Not this time, Captain.”

“Glad to hear it. I don’t need to remind you of the last time the two of you started working on something. The hull has only just been repaired.”

Luca spares a moment to look sheepish. “Um, well, technically that wasn’t-“

Isaac waves that away, knowing they’ve already hashed that plenty of times. Despite his excitement, Luca keeps himself on task. “Okay, wait, just let me show you…”

Luca bounds towards the door and slaps the panel, allowing the doors to slide open. He cups his hands over his mount like a makeshift amplifier and affects a deep, formal sounding voice as he speaks.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he drones. “Coming to you from the far beyond the reaches of the Attican traverse, travelling hundreds and millions of miles, far from the Sol system and deep through the mass effect relays, coming to you live from my omnitool and Harris’s greenhouse that she calls a bedroom…” Luca pauses dramatically. “I give you… Amelia, the walking aeonium!”

He throws his arms out in an expectant flourish but the doorway remains empty. A beat passes then two and Luca’s smile falters.

“Uh, sorry, Capt,” he squirms, then through the open doorway, he hisses, “Harris!”

There’s the sound of a scuffle outside and Luca shifts his glance back and smiles apologetically. “Uh, one second. My assistant isn’t… um… Damn, what is… Sorry, Capt.”

“It’s hard to find good help these days,” Isaac says dryly, trying to hold back his chuckle as Luca flounders. This kid was sunshine and if he’s honest, a chance to look up from the dreary datapads and reports and find his face is always welcomed. His, or Eva’s.

Luca nods enthusiastically in agreement as he taps away at the glow of his omnitool before he realizes what Isaac’s just said. He scowls and shoots his captain a look. “Hey,” he complains but it comes on the end of a grin and this time, Isaac does laugh at Luca’s put out expression.

Just then, there’s a whirring sound from the outside of the hallway and Luca jumps up again. “Finally,” he mutters. “I knew I should have got Davis to help me with this.”

There’s a muffled, “tried to crawl up my leg!” from the other side but Luca waves it away. He straightens quickly and tugs on his uniform formally.

“Introducing,” he starts again dramatically, taking a deep breath before he continues with a flourish. “Amelia the walking Aeonium!”

The whirring and clanking from the hallway intensifies then a small, six legged drone shuffles its way through the doorway, a pretty green plant adorning the top of it like a tuft of hair. Luca has even attached a scribbled smiley face to the front of it although it droops down, giving the walking plant a somewhat comically forlorn appearance. The thing scurries into the room and bumps into Luca’s boot. It rises up its two front legs and paws at Luca like an insistent toddler trying to be lifted into its parent’s arms.

“Hiya, Meli,” Luca croons. “Say Hi to the Captain.”

Isaac blinks when the little drone spins its top and seems to look directly at him. It makes him think disturbingly of the keepers on the citadel or maybe the old holos of the rachni and his face falls slightly. He eyes it warily. It’s definitely not non-organic, and part of his mind is already going over the fact the plant portion comes from Harris’s room and therefore already cleared the ship’s quarantine logs and nothing to worry about.

Harris’s head pops around the corner. “What do you think, Captain?”

“It’s…. interesting.”

Luca grins. “Right? A walking plant. When Harris gave me one of her greenies I didn’t know what to do with it, I mean, I’d probably forget about it and end up killing it, right? But now there’s no way I’ll forget it about it. And look, friend!”

Luca pick it up and rubs his cheek against the plump, spiky foliage before holding it out in Isaac’s direction. “Wanna pat?”

“I was kinda hoping it would be a dog.”

Luca and Harris grow quiet for a moment and Isaac wonders if they’re disappointed in his reaction – until he sees the sly glance they exchange.

“You know, Captain,” Harris says slowly. “We could make that happen…”

[eva-novakov]

Sometime after X

*****

She didn’t know what to expect, as the ensign led her through the ship, but Eva was used to that feeling. The distinctive red stripe on the shoulder of her hoodie never left room for normalcy. She took in everything as she walked, her legs screaming at her to stop. She was used to that feeling, as well. She admired her surroundings , all sleek surfaces and large, open spaces. She trailed a finger along the smooth walls as she followed and slowly drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sense of it. When they reached the brightly lit command center, she couldn’t help but be in awe of it. 

He looked like he was born in this room and had never left. As if he survived simply off eating and breathing war. Eva knew the type, and respected that.

She, did not. The small XO standing beside him who looked like she should have her own cooking show, not wearing three bars on her uniform. And Eva respected that, just as much. 

Her fingers touched the space of skin on her forehead briefly after he had dismissed the ensign. “Sir. Ma’am.” 

“Eva Novakov. Welcome aboard.” 

“Thankyou sir. I apologize for my appearance, command didn’t leave me time between my last mission and the shuttle.” Her fingers slid along the bottom of her hoodie, the only thing she was able to grab that wasn’t torn or dirty, that at least covered the top half of her battle worn suit. She had pulled her hair into as neat of a bun as she could on the transport, but in the end had only achieved a disheveled ponytail. She hated it. Vanity was very low on her list of very important things. Professionalism on the other hand, wasn’t. 

Her captain waved a hand, dismissing the worry. “You were aboard the Berlin, before, correct?”

“Yes sir.” Eva tried not to think about the before. “Looks much different now after just a few months. But she’s even more beautiful.” She didn’t know his facial expressions yet, but there was no other way to take that one other than pleased.

Marie’s brown eyes were lit by the blue glow of the omni pad in her hands as she looked up from it. Her previous look of welcome was now perplexed, as if trying to figure out what was in front of her. Eva didn’t fail to notice that even through the scrutinizing look, the commander’s eyes were still kind. “I was just reading up on you before you arrived. This is….impressive, to say the least. Your kinetic field and spatial distortion range is off the charts, even by Asari standards.” 

Eva tried not to sway on her feet. 

“I think we should let our new squad member settle in Commander.” Isaac said suddenly, releasing the terminal he had been leaning on and standing to his full height. 

She wasn’t sure yet what to think of her new Captain, except what she had heard through the grapevine, which was all good things. But she was sure of one thing, she was never more grateful to hear those words. 

“Is there anything in particular you’ll need?” 

A week long sleep. “Only someone capable of repairing my suit, or just a replacement.” 

His eyes traveled down her leg then, to the large tear in the fabric along her thigh. She knew he would know the force it would have taken to make that tear, and she read it in the slow squint of his eyes. Medi gel had done most of the work, but she clenched her teeth against the soreness. 

“We’ll take care of it,” he cleared his throat, brows knitting together before his eyes dropped back to the terminal. “I’ll send someone for it. Commander, would you show her to her quarters? And make sure someone gets her Levin.” 

Eva’s mouth watered at the mere mention of the specialty biotic recovery drink, and she saluted before begging her legs to move, following the smaller form of the commander. 

“Novikov” 

She stopped and turned to face the captain with a slow blink, afraid for half a moment that her eye lids wouldn‘t open again of their own accord. 

“It’s good to have you on board.” 

She believed him. “Thankyou, sir.”

[mason-knight-retired]

from X (they were talkative tonight)

It took most of the day before Mason was able to grab a moment with Marie, and by then the hour was late and he had to track her down in her quarters.

“Nice digs,” he says, walking into the spacious room. It surprised him, he wouldn’t have expected anything this comfortable on an Alliance ship but it was just one more thing to add to the list of readjusted expectations when it came to the Alliance.

But then he spots Nico lounging by the viewport and suddenly the luxe cottons of the bedspread and the soft lighting from the lamps and the extra plush pillows make a lot more sense. He raises an eyebrow, and Nico jerks one shoulder up in answer before turning back to the datapad in his hands and ignoring him.

Nice to see somethings didn’t change.

“Masey,” Marie smiles as she motions for him to slide the door shut behind him, only for Maddox of all people to slide through the gap before it seals. Mason throws the other adept an irritated glance before choosing to ignore him and he wonders briefly when did their little squad become just an anti-trust exercise of who could pretend the other didn’t exist the hardest.

A pair of certain gold flecked eyes comes to mind before Mason ruthlessly shoves them aside - along with the heavy ache in his chest they try to drag with them. Case in point.

“What can I do for you?”

“Just checking in,” he says, although there’s more to his visit than that. He’d spotted her in the small crowd of crew and marines as the captain made his welcome speech earlier and he had recognized her stance and her mildly humming signature straight away.

A fury.

Marie gives him a disbelieving look as she pulls off the jacket of her uniform. “Really? You didn’t do that earlier?” she says dryly.

“Looks like Huntsman has something on his mind,” Maddox mutters, making himself comfortable in the middle of the wide bed that takes pride of place in the XO quarters. He throws a hand over his eyes and sighs loudly, and that’s all it takes for Marie to cross the room and rub her fingers over his scalp gently. Maddox rumbles something Mason can’t hear before she smiles down at him and plants a quick kiss to his cheek.

It was still the weirdest fucking friendship Mason had never been able to work out and he darts a glance to Nico, wondering how the grumpy, uptight Italian took the casual affection between his girlfriend and his fellow phoenix, only to find Nico quite clearly doesn’t give enough of a shit to be concerned.

Mason frowns, waiting until Marie turns her attention back to him. She raises her eyebrows expectantly as she starts to kick off her boots. “So, you have something on your mind. Speak.”

Mason pauses, wondering exactly how to broach this before opting to take a leaf out of Maddox and Nico’s books and go for direct.

“What’s with the fury?”

Marie doesn’t look surprised by his blunt question. She glances down, working on her other boot and yanking it off before she stands up to answer him. He folds his arms across his chest, the concern floating inside him making his jaw turn hard. 

“You have four phoenix on board,” he tells her, like that should be obvious. And it should be. Granted, Ajax wasn’t in fighting shape yet, but Ben and Nico and himself were all salivating for a fight.

There’s a muffled “Could have been five,” that comes from Maddox and those four words send ice flooding down his spine.

“Shut up, Ajax or I’ll shove you out the fucking airlock.”

Maddox props himself up onto his elbows slowly and looks directly at Mason, eyes cold. “I’d like to see you try.”

“That makes two of us. Might be worth tearing half the ship apart to put you in your place once and for all.”

“Like you could take me, old man.”

“Maybe I should finish what the phantom started-”

“That’s enough!” Marie’s yell is the only thing that makes the red around his vision recede and Mason is immediately pissed at himself and more than chagrined by Marie’s furious glare. It’s always been Ajax’s unique little skill, he always knew just where to slip the knife in and twist and make it fucking hurt.

Marie jabs him hard in the chest, wincing when it doesn’t give under the soft flesh of her finger. He spares a second to hope she didn’t hurt herself. 

“No one is putting any holes in my ship,” she continues angrily. “Jesus Christ, if you’re both finished with the dick measuring contest, will the two of you kindly get lost? It’s been a long day and I’m tired and I think I want Nic to give me a massage on the inside-“

“Can I help?” Maddox asks hopefully.

Marie plants her hands on her hips and glares. “That was a one time thing,” she hisses and Mason has to stop and rewind that moment in his mind to make sure he’s heard it properly.

“Wait, you fucked Ajax? And Nico let that happen?”

Maddox snickers. “Nico was there-“

“Holy shit!”

Marie pinches the space between her brows and takes three deep breaths, clearly trying to find her calm. Mason casts a glance at Nico, still engrossed in the datapad and pointedly ignoring everything. He finds himself eyeing Nico in a new light suddenly. “Wow, I’m kinda impressed, Zeus. Didn’t think you went for that.”

Nico levels a stare at him over the datapad but says nothing.

“Right,” Mason rolls his eyes. “Good talk, mate.”

He turns his attention back to Marie, only to discover she’s apparently done with all of them. Her uniform pants are peeled off and so is her singlet. She’s about to remove her bra when she levels a baleful stare at him, gesturing for him to turn around but he doesn’t bother to budge.

“What? We’ve all seen it,” he says with a shrug.

“If you put this in your spank bank for later, I’ll sic nico on you,” she threatens.

Mason offers her an exaggerated leer before he glances at Nico, just to be a pain in the ass. “It’d be worth it.”

“Oh for god’s sake,” she mutters, turning her back and pulling off her bra to quickly swap it for a sleep shirt.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering,” Maddox says idly, now sprawled back on the bed with his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. “He’s just gonna tear it off you anyway.”

“Not as long as you two assholes are still here. Seriously, Mase. What is it? I know why he is,” she swats Maddox’s boot. “But why are you here?”

Mason pulls his attention back and all his good mood and humour dissipates like smoke on the wind. His expression turns serious, recalling the reason why he’d sought her out in the first place. He could have asked the Captain, he supposes but he was still finding his feet around the other man. He had the ability to be much more candid with Marie. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know why there was another formidable biotic on the ship. A biotic that they didn’t need.

“Why does the Alliance need the phoenix and a fury all in the same place?”

This time it’s Marie who folds her arms across her chest. She looks tired and Mason has a sudden bout of regret for bringing this up now. “You sound a little put out about it, Mason.”

“Maybe I am. You don’t need her.”

Marie tilts her head, eyes suddenly hard. Mason knows he’s just pissed her off, but he’s not sure it’s in him to feel bad about it. When they had approached him about making the SSV Berlin the base for any phoenix led operations, no one said shit about having a fury along for the ride too.

“She’ll give you a run for your money, Mason. So, you’d better check that ego.”

“An unenhanced, unaugmented biotic with a standard alliance issue amp?” he scoffs. “Not bloody likely.”

Marie plucks the datapad out of Nico’s hand but he doesn’t protest when she flicks it to Mason. He catches it easily, frowning at the scrolling text. “What’s this?”

“Have a read of her file,” Marie tells him and Mason scans the screen, his frown slowly morphing into surprise and something else that leaves him cold.

“Bloody hell.”

“Yep,” she says sweetly. Mason suspects she’s enjoying this a little too much. “Better get used to not being top dog around here anymore, Huntsman. Who knows, maybe she can even teach you a thing or two.”

[captain-cerrillo]

Lt. Commander Zoie Burgaw (1) - Technically 3rd in Command. The Berlin will be left under LC Burgaw when the CO and XO are off deck. The LT is short on words but she's a good leader with a solid head on her shoulders. She's not a mean personality but she's never been described as warm.

Ensign Emmy Davis (2) - After Luca, the Ensign is the administrative go-to. She's a practiced 'right hand' and is always right where you need her. She's intelligent, empathetic and discreet.

[kate-lyons]

so apparently, we needed to get this off our chests? from x ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Kate tenses, wondering if there’s enough time to make it to the door before these two men rip each other apart but Mason makes a visible effort to breathe through his nose and swallow down the fury that she knows burns so close to the surface.

She tries to catch his eye and says loudly, “I think we’re done here, Mason.”

Maddox looks disappointed. He slides a glare at Mason before lounging against the other medbed as Mason gets up. “You’re not going to answer my question, Huntsman?”

Mason grits his teeth as he walks away. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Ajax. As per fucking usual.”

--

Kate tracks him down later in the cycle, after a long few hours trying to work with the most belligerent patient she ever had the misfortune to come across. Maddox made her teeth ache, and fought her on every test, every protocol she tried. He was just a fighter, she knew that. From the bits and pieces she had been able to put together, she understood this was how he survived as long as he did.

She finds Mason in his quarters, shirtless and hunched over a datapad. He’s surprised to see her.

“Everything alright, doc?”

“Yes,” she rushes to reassure him, knowing that his mind has gone straight to his phoenix brothers and the fact she’s standing in his doorway late into a cycle when everyone should be asleep. “Everything is fine.”

He raises an eyebrow expectantly as she mulls over her words. “I want to know more. About project phoenix.”

“Pretty sure Ethan gave you all he had on us,” he says and she doesn’t miss the way his voices gets hard on the mention of Sabre’s name. “What more do you need?”

“Not the stats and the baselines,” she shakes her head. “The… the personal aspects. Friendships, or lack of them.”

Mason deflates slightly and flicks the datapad he had been holding towards the bed. The sheets are still pulled taut, a clear indication he had yet to sleep. She makes a mental note of that somewhere, reminding herself to check his biorhythms later.

He leans against the wall but gestures for her to take a seat and make herself comfortable but heat curls uncomfortably under her skin. Like all of the phoenix, he was beautiful, a lovely flower that could snap shut and devour her if she let herself fall into his nectar.

She shakes off the thought and chooses to remain standing.

“You don’t have to worry about us,” he starts to say. “Ajax and I… it’s been like this for years. I promised Marie I wouldn’t destroy her ship anyway.”

Kate’s smile is tight but she can appreciate his attempt at humour. As usual, he’s cut straight to the heart of her concerns.

“I’m trying to fix him,” she reminds him dryly. “We need him for the war. Don’t go picking any fights.”

Mason chuckles. He reaches for a black t-shirt draped over the back of a chair and shrugs it on. Kate is almost disappointed to see the expanse of hard flesh disappear from sight. “It wouldn’t be a fair fight anyway.”

Kate senses her opening. “Sometimes it seems like you’re looking for one though.”

Mason turns and regards her with a quiet stillness. It almost feels, dangerous, the way he stares at her. Is he cataloguing her weaknesses? Wondering how quickly he could wrap a hand around her throat and choke the air from her lungs? She had read the files, long before the 37’s were boots on the ground, they were assassins too, silent and deadly, trained to stand out and blend in all at once.

“Aren’t we all?” he says mildly.

“Maddox wasn’t wrong, Mason. There is… there’s something different. Since you’ve come on board, there’s been something bothering you.”

He doesn’t answer, green eyes glinting with something that tells her she’s skirting close to a boundary he may not let her cross. But this was her job. She was here to make sure these men, these dogs of war, these assets, as the brass called them, operated to their highest potential. And there was something hanging over Huntsman that had the potential to cause problems if it leaked into a battle.

“Why don’t you tell me the real reason Sabre elected to stay behind. And why the two of you are suddenly so… hostile.”

Green eyes glint again and his tone turns to ice. “That’s not open for discussion, Kate.”

“I think it should be,” she says, taking her cue from his use of her name rather than her title. He hasn’t shut her out completely yet, so she forges ahead. “From what I understand, the two of you have been a team since the start. You were separated during your escape from Cerberus, but then you reconnected and you have been together since. Until now.”

The shutter falls over his eyes, as she had expected. “Sabre feels he would be better utilised in the lab.”

“Bullshit,” she says softly. “He’s a powerful biotic capable of wrecking a swath of destruction as much as you or Hurricane or Zeus and with an entire information network that could prove to be incredibly invaluable at the touch of his fingertips… The rest of the phoenix are here. He should be here too.”

Mason doesn’t hide the twist to his features. This hurts him, she realises, and her deeply held suspicions are confirmed.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there? To your relationship?”

For a moment, Kate wonders if he’s going to shut her out but there’s a slight drop of his shoulders, a slight lowering of his guard as though he’s tired of carrying the weight around.

“Sabre and I go back a long way,” Mason says with a loose shrug. “Since I woke up on that table with a new amp and a body I didn’t recognize with a pile of broken memories and no idea of who I really was. He was there, waiting for me. He was always there, every time I turned around, he was there. He had my back, in every fight, every battle, every time. But things got messy because we didn’t keep it professional.”

“You mean you fell in love with him.”

Mason glances at her sharply and for a moment he looks as though he wants to argue. “There were feelings,” he says slowly, as though only just coming to terms with the concept himself. “Yes.”

Kate recalls the daggers stared into the back of her neck whenever Sabre had been in the lab, whenever she got too close or bent her head towards Mason. She frowns. Something wasn’t adding up. “He didn’t return them?”

“No,” Mason laughs dryly, a bitter edge on his terms. “At least not like that. But we never made any promises either to each other. He never made any promises. I… I got attached but that’s on me.”

“It’s not a bad thing to fall in love, Mason.”

“It is when the person you fall for makes it clear, repeatedly, mind you, that there’s no future or commitment or happily ever after. Sabre isn’t built that way, and I’ve known that from the start. It was… fine. I was okay with that. It was enough to-“

Mason cuts himself off, rubs his jaw and glances away. She can see the instant regret in his eyes, that he’s said too much and she almost feels guilty for pushing. Almost, but not quite.

“So what happened?” Kate asks gently, sensing he’s on the cusp of something. “Why is he there and you here?”

Mason drops his hand, eyes flashing now. “He broke it off, alright. Is that what you wanted to hear, Doc? You want me to cry on your shoulder about my broken heart? Don’t worry, it won’t affect my performance in the field.”

“Mason…”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why you want to know about this. Yeah, so I’m working through some shit right now, but show me someone on this damn boat who isn’t.”

He has a point, she concedes, although she doesn’t say it out loud. “Sabre was your second,” she says softly, all the pieces suddenly starting to click into place. “His job was to protect you.”

Mason’s eyes drift shut, and he shakes his head silently. She wonders if he’s reached the same conclusion she has as she continues. “Even from yourself.”

She sees it in the fall of his shoulders he’s arrived at the same end. A long moment of silence rolls between them. She can hear the gears turning loudly inside his head. The crash of defences too tightly held. 

He sags, just slightly. Just enough to know he’s given in a little bit to the storm that’s churning inside for him. Kate wonders somewhere if this is what it’s like to watch a phoenix break.

“I love him, you know? Not just as a brother in arms, not just as a… as a mate… I love him.” Mason’s laugh is suddenly shaky and harsh and bitter as he scrubs a hand through his dark hair. “Sonofabitch, I’ve never admitted that out loud before, not even…”

“He must care about you too.” 

“I know he does,” Mason says it sharply, all rough, sparking edges and shattered with the longing for something he can’t have. “Not the same way, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care. I would have been happy to just…. I would have been happy just to share his bed. I never asked him for anything more.”

“You’re angry with him.”

“Yes, goddamnit. Why did he have… fuck, why did he have to notice it?” Mason paces in the small space of his quarters like a jaguar pacing in it’s cage. “I keep going over it in my head, over and over. What gave it away? What pushed him too far? I don’t know, all I know is that he wanted to end it because he couldn’t give me what he thinks I needed from him. Still fucking trying to protect me. It’s bullshit.”

”That was his job, his purpose. Maybe if you-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter anyway!” Mason cuts her off with a thunder but she’s not frightened because she knows it’s not directed at her. This is a war Mason is fighting with himself, she’s merely an observer. “We can’t go back to pretending he’s not ripping out my fucking heart every time he kisses me. So, fine. Whatever, it is what it is. He’s there, I’m here but we still have a job to do, there’s still a war.”

Mason cranes his neck and rolls his shoulders, a flicker of blue lights his eyes and skitters over his skin before dissipating.

“So, just point me in the direction of something to kill, and I’ll be fine.”

[brokenrebell]

Please tell my Mom it was an accident

[phoenixvanguard]

Alliance red tape was painful at the best of times, but transferring into the waiting arms of the only Phoenix faction left in the galaxy was worth the myriad of jumps and transport hopping it took to reach the quiet part of space were the SSV Berlin waited.

Enzo peered out of the viewport, taking in the ship as the freighter he was on drifted close. The Berlin didn’t look much different to any other Alliance frigate he’d seen but he knew beyond that metal hull were more of his kind. Other phoenix. Long lost brothers in arms… and one plain old brother.

He wondered briefly what Nico would say to seeing him. Had Nico even known he joined the program at the tender age of thirteen, at their father’s insistence? Enzo liked to hope he didn’t in an effort to explain away the radio silence knowing the two of them were wings under the same banner. Nico had been older, fifteen when he joined, but from what Enzo had been able to piece together, that was largely to do with his mother unwilling to relinquish her youngest son into the ranks of what was to be humanity’s sword.

Enzo hadn’t had that privilege. He didn’t have a mother, just a sterile pod and a complicated series of genetic programming that ensured he had all of Gianni Morrisini’s most desired and sought after traits.

The freighter drifted closer and a docking tube detached from the Berlin’s side. Soon Enzo would cross the threshold, and find his place amongst what was left of the phoenix.

His jaw ached. He could feel them already.

--

Commander Miller was waiting for him when he finally passed through decontamination and stepped onto the threshold of the SSV Berlin. She wasn’t what he expected, small with pretty dark eyes and dark hair twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. She looked small, but she held herself with a rigity that told him she wasn’t going to stand for any bullshit.

Enzo was fine with that. He wasn’t here to cause waves.

He stopped short of saluting, he wasn’t alliance after all, but settled into an easy parade rest stance with his hands held loosely behind his back.

The commander’s dark eyes took him in as she held a datapad in her hands. “Welcome aboard, Ares.”

“Thank you,” Enzo answered stiffly. There was a lot of bustle in the docking bay, a lot of curious crew pausing to stop and stare. He immediately clocked the shift of one over the Commander’s shoulder, one that’s curiosity was too sharp to be anything casual. Enzo wasn’t at all surprised when the crewman detached himself from the group he was with and ventured over.

The commander continued to watch him carefully. He knew what she was going to say before the words were out of her mouth.

“The resemblance is startling.”

Enzo said nothing. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before and he didn’t bother to explain he had been created from Nico’s template. But he wasn’t Nico. And he was going to prove it.

The Commander lifted an eyebrow at his lack of response. She didn’t seem perturbed by his stillness but then she probably wouldn’t be, Enzo thought to himself. The commander would be used to their quirks if she was immersed in them as she was.

“Hmm,” a ghost of a smile graced her mouth. “About as chatty as Zeus too.”

Enzo was saved having to answer when the curious crewman from earlier slid close to the Commander’s side. He seemed too young to be on the front line, a mass of dark curly hair pushed to one side and curling over the collar of his uniform but he had friendly eyes.

“Are you a phoenix too?” he asked. He looked Enzo up and down. “You look exactly like Z-“

“Luca,” the commander interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder. “This is Ares… Enzo,” she corrected. “Enzo Morrisini. And yes, he is also a phoenix. Can you take him to the troop deck and get him settled? The one next to Ben is available. Enzo can have that.”

A number of emotions flitted over the kid’s face and Enzo tensed for more questions but the kid peered at him for a moment longer before offering a shrug and an easy smile. He seemed to put it all together quickly enough. “Sure, I can do that. Follow me, Ares.”

Luca trotted off but before Enzo followed, the caught the Commander’s gaze again. She tilted her head as she regarded him. “Something else?”

“Is he… Is he here?”

He was grateful when he didn’t have to clarify. The commander’s expression softened. “He’s off ship at the moment, along with the rest of the phoenix. But they’ll be back soon.”

--

Luca chatted away as he led Enzo towards what Luca called the phoenix troop deck. Enzo was almost disappointed to be squirreled away from the rest of the human crew and he wondered if that was somehow symbolic of their status within the Alliance. They were their own entity, their own island folded in on all side by the Alliance and all the red tape and politics that came with it.

“Wow, I still can’t get over it, I didn’t even know Zeus had a brother,” Luca was saying. The kid was nervous although he was doing an admirable job of hiding it despite his chatter. “It’s so cool that you’re here though. Here we are in the middle of an intergalactic war but families are coming together. You know Ben has his brother on board, the major and my brother is here too. His name is Kiosho, he’s the one with blue hair and he’s annoying as all hell so don’t let him give you any trouble. And now here you are for Zeus. It’s cool. I like your call sign by the way. Ares was a god too, right? I’ve been learning about Earth myths and legends lately. My boyfriend – he’s the Berlin’s pilot - knows all about them, he’s got these beautiful tattoos and he talks about the kind of the gods and stuff and-“

Luca stopped in the hall and motioned to a door. “Here’s our stop. This one is yours.” He tweaked a few settings on the glowing omnitool on his wrist and the door slid open. “You’ve already been added to the Berlin’s network and I’m forwarding you the codes now. You’ll need to stay in here until Huntsman gets back from the op but if you’re hungry, I can go fetch something for you from the mess. Oh, and Dr Kate is our resident Phoenix guru, she’s gonna want to talk to you too, but I suppose that can wait. Are you hungry? I can go get you something now?”

“No,” Enzo shook his head. He suddenly felt tired and too out of place. What was he thinking? He should have kept his head low in the colonies, defended and fought there where he could, but a single phoenix wasn’t a match for swarms of reapers. “I’m fine.”

Luca shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, like he didn’t want to leave. “Um. So… I guess… I guess if you need anything else, just give me a bell. Otherwise I’m sure the others will be back soon.”

Enzo watched the kid leave then locked the door behind him.

Then he sat on his bunk and waited.

[cdrmiller]

SSV Berlin

************

Marie wrapped her arms around her fluffy pillow and burrowed into the covers. She sighed at the way her naked body felt against the crisp sheets, and she melted into them, thinking how beds were definitely the greatest invention of mankind. She stared out of the viewing window of her quarters and listened to the sound of water running from the bathroom. When Isaac had practically ordered her to take a break, this was not only the first thing, but the only thing that popped into her mind. She sighed again after breathing in the clean scent, wiggling her bare toes and pressed her cheek deeper into the softness. 

“Never been jealous of a pillow before.” 

Her eyes found him in the doorway of the bathroom, her hips instinctively jerked when he moved, walking across the room in only a towel slung low on his prominent hips. Marie’s plan had been cuddles. Her, curled into a ball, that man’s arms around her squeezing her as tight as her bones would allow, and maybe a nap. But her body had a different story it needed to tell now, watching his muscles shift under his tanned skin. 

A palm held up towards him and a shake of her head stopped him in his tracks as soon as he reached the edge of the bed. The same hand curled in on itself, leaving one finger to hook into thin air, and when she pulled it back towards her, her eyes flashing from brown to blue for just one second, the towel covering him came with it. Her lips parted and her dark eyes grew even darker as they raked down his body. “What exactly were you thinking about in the shower, Mr. Morrisini?” 

Nico’s grin was crooked as his hand smoothed over the ridges of his abs, knowing exactly what she wanted. He flexed, and watched her visible reaction as his muscles swelled, becoming more defined. He could feel her heartbeat and breath climb when he wrapped his fingers around the length of hard flesh. He gripped himself and started to stroke, slowly, purposefully. 

Marie whimpered as she watched his cock become bigger and harder and she climbed out of the covers, spreading her legs before him. His hand faltered in its caress and this time it was his lips’ turn to part in want. Her hips moved in time with the strokes of his hand and her fingers rubbed small circles against her clit in just the right way to make her shiver. She watched him pumping himself, loving the tingle of torture spreading through her body.

They had played this game before. Sometimes he won, when she couldn’t stand it anymore and would crawl to him, replacing his hand with her mouth. But this time she won, when she dipped her fingers into herself and then trailed them over her nipples, leaving trails of her own juices. He dropped himself then, and she smiled when he crawled onto the bed, hovering over her as his tongue followed the wet lines. His big hands slid up her smooth body and he stayed, taking her nipples into his mouth and sucking, giving both an equal amount of attention. 

She held his head, watching her breast disappear into his wet, warm mouth. She loved his lips on a normal day, but when they were wrapped around her flesh… she moaned loudly at the sight. Her back arched, wanting him to take more of her. “Nic,” She wrapped her legs around him, impressed at the restraint not to immediately thrust into her, but wanting exactly that. Finally, after kissing up her chest and neck agonizingly slowly, he moved his hips. 

“I love you.” He whispered the words against her lips at the same time he pushed into her. 

“I love you.” She replied on a shaky breath, her nails trying to dig into the reinforced skin of his back as he stretched her. Her lips closed the breaths distance to his and he fucked her slowly, each thrust drawing a moan into his mouth. 

****** 

“Nic. I need you to do something for me.” 

“Anything.” He said it without hesitation, but she wasn’t so sure his answer would be said the same. 

They lay on their sides, face to face, and her eyes dropped to his chest, suddenly nervous to find out. Her gaze followed her own finger as it drew a line down his skin, admiring how beautiful it was. He caught her hand and held it, kissing the ring on her finger, sensing her hesitation. 

“I need you to believe we’ll make it out of this.” 

She watched a wide range of emotions pass in phases over his features, knowing he had never let himself think about the future. But to her, that’s what was worth fighting for. He had made a promise to be with her to the end and she refused to accept the end that he believed in.

“I’ll try. For you.” 

She knew he meant it, and the hand that wasn’t already entwined with his moved to rest against his cheek. “For us.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp to wiggle her ring finger in front of his face, smiling.  Nico chuckled, and she thought of how much she loved that deep rumbling sound as he wrapped his fingers back around hers and pulled them to his lips, kissing the ring again. 

“There’s one more thing.” 

Nico groaned, letting her hand drop, pretty sure he had already reached his limit and afraid he wouldn’t be able to promise whatever she’d ask of him next.   

“When it’s all over...” her hand brushed his cheek before trailing down his neck, her voice full of emotion. “When it’s over, I want you to take me to Italy.” 

He was kissing her before she could blink, and he had never said so much than he did with the way his lips moved softly over hers. “Nothing would make me happier.” 

She kissed him back, her tongue exploring his, trying to fill in the cracks splintering his voice. 

“Nothing?” 

She held his golden gaze with a mischievous smile when she finally flattened her palms against his smooth chest and pushed lightly. Her body followed his as he rolled back against the mattress. The sheet fell away as she threw a leg over his hips, revealing bare flesh that his hands were immediately roaming over. Her hands slid down his powerful arms until her fingers wrapped around his wrists, pulling them above his head. She was instantly wet with the deep growl that reverberated in his throat when she pushed down hard with her hips, grinding against him just the way she knew he couldn’t resist. 

“Not even round 3?”

[lucan-multiverse]

[in some far distant future]

Commander Mason Knight watched with an unfamiliar ache burrowed against the inside of his chest as the toddler with the mass of dark curls bury his face into the side of his mother’s neck. She laughed softly, kissed the top of his head and rocked him against her shoulder until the little boy’s squirming body melted into a lax, slumber-filled sack. She rocked him a little while more before handing the boy over to his father – and yet another unfamiliar – and oddly surprising – ache filled his chest again.

“It takes me back to when my Luc was small,” he said, after the woman had bid goodnight to her husband and her child and made her way to where he stood. She approached him without any apprehension, taking in the whole, uncanny situation with far more grace than Mason himself had.

But then he was old. At least three decades on her, and far set in his ways. He couldn’t pivot like he used to.

She smiled warmly, the same shade of grey-green in her eyes like his own. “He’s a handful,” she answered with rueful honesty. Her eyes travelled the length of him assessing. “But I guess I don’t need to tell you that.”

Mason felt his answering smile slip, remembering his son’s childhood. Lucas had always been spirited. He had demanded and needed far more from them than his easy going twin ever had. From the day he had been born, he had come out screaming, and somehow his railing against the world had never stopped.

At least not until a certain Blake Ryan had showed up.

His thoughts must have shown on his weathered face because her face softened, a wince almost twisting her smile into a part time grimace. “That bad, huh? Can you give me the heads up on what I have to look forward to?”

Before he could formulate an answer, she inclined her head and motioned to something behind him. He had barely turned before he realized it was his son, on the opposite side of the cargo bay, standing straight, shoulders broad, his hair a touch too long to be regulation length, face serious as he gestured to the SSV Berlin’s captain.

Yet another ache, but this time tinted with pride.

She read that on his face too. “Whatever you did, you have to give me pointers, because he turned out beautifully.”

Mason couldn't help but laugh then. “That's all Isaac. But, yeah. He gave us hell, but I couldn’t ask for a better son.”

“Who else would tear apart universes to get to you?” Maisy echoes softly.

Mason’s eyes shift to his son again. It had all started and ended with Lucas. His Luc. Their Luc.

And this time, the ache is only one of pride – and relief.

[sunshine-luca]

The Popstar and the Pilot

In the last year, Luca Moreno scored five Grammys, went multiplatinum seven times, completed a yearlong world tour, became an uncle, got engaged and got married.  

Then, he turned 22.

 --

Article by Zoie Burgaw

Before I ever meet Luca Moreno, I feel like I know him. I have already watched him piggy back on his oldest brother along the soppy edge of a Scottish loche, get his sprained ankle wrapped, devour a tin full of traditional buttery shortbread, blow a slobbery raspberry against his twin sister’s cheek, mimic his father’s stern warning, expound on the seriousness of music verses life and love, snort ice cold water out of one nostril on a dare and serenaded his new husband with an impromptu love song as storms gather on the darkened highland horizons. I know what a Luca Moreno burp sounds like, and also a sneeze. Here, in the luxurious and incredibly secure surrounds of a Scottish castle, Luca is free and happy and surrounded by the love that helped to propel him to stardom yet keep his feet firmly on the ground.

Luca’s talent is unmistakable. I have listened to him perform at the Democratic National Convention, the Academy Awards, the Grammys (where his debut album, Show Me The Stars, racked up a total of 11 wins), Coachella, Big Day Out, Melodifestivalen, NPR’s Tiny Desk, Ellen, The Tonight Show, and in a car with James Corden.

The muchness of Luca’s online presence is overwhelming and kaleidoscopic, his own posts and performances spawning fan accounts and compilation videos. There is the Baader-Meinhof effect too; once you are aware of Luca, he really is everywhere. He’s trending on Twitter, his emotive face shows up in a group text, his beautiful voice Dopplers out of a passing car. In the four short years since he signed with Berlin SSV Records as part of a boyband started in the music rooms of his local high school, he has risen to mind-boggling stardom: His just completed worldwide 49-show arena tour sold out days after tickets went on sale but if you were to ask him his greatest achievement, he grins into the face of the newborn tucked against his chest as a wedding band flashes on his finger, he tells you it’s being able to keep his family close, and add to it. “After all,” he quips, laughing as his twin, the beautiful and elegant Olivia Cerrillo Morrisini, takes the baby from his arms, “If it hadn’t been for my tour, they wouldn’t even have met and I wouldn’t have found my true calling as only the most awesome uncle ever.”

There’s good natured laughter around the room, and his sister kisses his cheek before joining her husband Enzo – Luca’s choreographer and backup dancer of his latest tour. Spending time with the group lends you to believe the pairing would have been as inevitable as the sun rising but it’s not just his sister that Luca smiles for. Despite their tender ages of barely twenty two, both twins haven’t hesitated to tie the knot – moves fully supported by Luca’s father and his husband of twenty two years.

“It was the loudest thing people talked about,” Luca comments when I query him. There’s one noticeable absence in the room, that of the man who wears the matching band to Luca’s but Luca assures me he’ll be along soon enough. “It was all they could see, all they could talk about. Too young, too old. Age is just a number, it doesn’t really mean much when you take in the kind of life you live.”

“And your family knows that better than most.”

Luca seems surprised that I would agree with him. “Yeah,” he half laughs, glancing back at his father. It’s hard to miss. Luca’s father, not even forty and already grandparent smiles back. There had been controversy there too, but closely guarded circumstances no one in the family would choose to talk about. “Why?” Luca had shrugged when I’d asked. “It doesn’t matter now. We can’t change the past. My mom is gone. I don’t want to dishonour her memory with speculation and neither do my family. My dad didn’t even know about us until she died. It’s strange to think about how different my life would have been. Sorta sad. I wish she could see where we all are today, and I like to think she’s watching over us.”

It came to light only recently of Luca’s other surprise and closely guarded family connection through his father. Luca and his twin Olivia, grandchildren of the famed, internationally renowned Spanish singer Mara Cerrillo.

“I wanted to see if I could make it without piggybacking of my abuela’s success,” Luca said shyly when I asked why he never chose to mention it until a few months ago. He’s a contraction to know him. In photoshoots and music videos he pouts, sulks, struts and preens but away from the cameras and in the arms of his family, he’s easy going and casual, the delightful, slightly annoying little brother to his siblings, a playful jokester that can’t sit still. His smile is forever present, and his laugh and dancing eyes are impossible to look away from as he flitters like a butterfly from subject to subject. “So I was really pleased when she came out to congratulate me after I got my awards.”

“That caused quite a stir,” I smile and Luca laughs, almost like he’s embarrassed. It’s endearing and sweet and reminds us he’s still young and yet to discover so much of the world despite seemingly have already conquered it.

“Yeah, well, there was a lot going on,” he says and he gestures with his left hand, pointing to the band on his finger. “And this was by far the best of it.”

It brings us back to why we’re meeting today. Luca hasn’t exactly been shy about his private life – it’s been hard to do when he’s posting to Instagram daily and filming behind the scenes videos for his fans. There are rare places he keeps to himself, the estate in Scotland belonging to his new husband’s family being one of them – but the announcement of his engagement and subsequent marriage had most fans sobbing into their pillow or raising eyebrows the world over.

“Your marriage,” I confirm and once again glance around the room. Luca catches my eye and grins.

“He’s coming, just finishing off some paperwork with his sister,” Luca explains and I nod as we sit back to wait.

It’s not long before the doors open and a man walks in that has Luca bounding up and sweeping into his arms. There had long been speculation about Luca and the older private pilot – blurry videos and photos showing them entwined in various locations around the world - coupled with an ancient brooch Luca was rarely seen without and a distinct change in the songs Luca released, there was plenty to feed the rumour mill.

And then, an abrupt, impromptu acoustic performance of a love song off script at one of his major concerts had everyone wondering if the starlet had indeed found love.

Luca tugs him over, settling next to him on the couch as we exchange pleasantries. Blake O’Riain, or Ryan as he’s known to his friends, is sixteen years Luca’s senior, the same age as Luca’s father and a man that cares little about what the world at large thinks of him. With a successful fleet of planes at his back, a proud Scottish heritage that spans back generations, pale hands inked with wild, artistic designs and eyes that could rival a summer sky, Ryan might seem like an odd match for the exuberant popstar… until you see them together.

The bond been them is undeniable. What was cool before turns molten in Luca’s presence and Luca’s frenetic, wild energy settles when Ryan takes his hand. They spare a moment to bend heads together on the couch, speaking quietly before they turn to me. Ryan’s soft reassurance seems to rally Luca, and he turns to me with a smile just as bright but more collected in the presence of his husband.

Ryan, in turn, is seemingly content to sit back and let Luca have the limelight, offering support when Luca needs it in the form of a gentle touch or a smile.

“So what would you say to those doubters out there?” I ask after the pleasantries are out of the way. They’d called me here to set the record straight and address the rumours that Luca was being taken advantage of, that Ryan was after his fortune despite having a fortune of his own.

“It doesn’t really matter what they say,” Luca’s frustration is evident in his tone. “This is how it is, this is what we are. And it’s entirely separate from my music.”

“Most of your new album has been inspired by this man,” I say, nodding at the pilot. It surprises me when he chuckles, his face is lined and serious in a way that tells me he would protect Luca from even so much as a sneeze if he could. Luca squeezes his hand and lifts it up to kiss his knuckles. There they go again, the quiet moments that tell me this isn’t a passing phase or a tabloid ploy for attention. There’s genuine affection there, love and a bond that’s clearly Luca’s tether to the things that are most important in his life. “So how can you really say that?”

“It is,” Luca concedes. “A lot of my new album is a love letter, I’ll admit that. But that should only prove how real this is. People are too hung up on numbers, on their ideas of the way things should be… of how, I should be. And for a long time I worried. But one thing my abuela, my father, and Ryan have always taught me is to live my truth. And my truth for a long time was my music. But now it’s my family, my love and… and it’s them that help me fly.”

TBC

[gabriel-patterson]

Hi!! I'm Lieutenant Moreno but you can just call me Luca :)

I think the Major had already given you a tour but if you need directions anywhere or any general info on the ship, you can consult the datapacket I've attached to this message.

Oh. And if you want strawberries, I recommend getting friendly with Lieutenant Harris - she grows them fresh for us!

Welcome aboard! Enjoy your stay!! :D

-//Lt. Moreno. L

[DTAPK:// ATTACHMENT: A Newbie's Guide to the SSV Berlin]

Top of the morning to you, lad.

Let me guess, you are one of those who are a ray of sunshine in the morning, aren't you?

Still, thanks for the attachments, I will give them a look-over when I have the chance. And noted, Lieutenant Harris. Where can I find this lady so I can turn on my charm before my reputation catches up to me?

/Patterson

[luca-moreno]

So nonna Nico wanted a family dinner before Ethan leaves the Berlin 

aka ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

--

Luca doesn’t really know why he gets pulled in along with Marie for the odd little family dinner Zeus insisted on. Marie mutters something about an insurance policy when he asks and it doesn’t make a lot of sense to him but it means another one of Zeus’s home cooked meals and he won’t say no to that.  

Plus, Ben will be there.

There’s tension in the room and around the table where they all sit. Tension and long silences while they wait for Zeus to dish out the food. There’s a semi circle of phoenix and the commander reigns at the head of the table like a sharp eyed Queen watching over her army.

Luca happily finds himself sandwiched between Ben on one side and Ajax, glowering and clearly unhappy with life on the other. Then there’s Mason and the final phoenix, Luca can’t remember the name of but vaguely recalls from the Commander’s party in the club. Pike maybe? Lance? Some kind of ancient earth weapon he might have read about in a history book somewhere.

He nudges Ben under the table, willing his face not to get all pink when his knee brushes against him.

(Which one is he again?) Luca signs, trying to be subtle and knowing he’s failed when the man in question’s gaze falls to him.

“Ethan,” Ben says easily. “Sabre. Big brother,” he adds proudly.

Luca’s gaze shifts between them then he kinda squints. He vaguely remembers that from their scamper in the hall trying to spy. “Wait. You don’t look alike.”

“Adopted,” Ethan cuts in smoothly, making Luca jump. He detects something in the phoenix’s tone. Humor maybe? Not hostility, which was a nice change for once. He decides then that he likes Sabre with his pretty hair and a jawline that could cut glass – and whew! He really has no business being that attractive but then phoenix, so Luca figures he’ll allow it.

Plus he’s really good at making Ben laugh.

“Huh,” he shrugs. “Okay.”

Silence falls over the table again. Luca twitches, drums his fingers on the edge of the table lightly until Mason narrows his eyes at him and he quickly snatches them back. He’s hungry and bored and jittery with too many freakishly still apex predators in the room when he feels like squishy prey and he sinks back in his chair and huffs with enough force to blow his curls off his face.

He scoops up his spoon and tries to balance it on his nose and wonders again why he’s there.

“Why me?” He had asked Marie on the walk to the little room she had secured for them. She paused on the other side of the sealed door and gave him an amused glance.

“Because with you there, they’re less likely to tear each other apart and for some obscure reason I can’t even begin to understand, it’s really important to Nic.”

“I thought you said they were family. Why would they tear each other apart?”

Marie’s face falls and she looks sort of sad. “Brothers by circumstances, not choice.”

Luca shrugged. “Aren’t all families like that?”

“Not all. Besides,” Marie continues with a small hum. “I think you’re probably the only other person on this boat who isn’t scared of them.”

It’s not true, not by a long shot but it had made Luca laugh anyway. “Yeah, because they know they have to go through to you get to me. And you’re scarier than all of them.”

Marie cuffed him lightly on the shoulder as she laughs – definitely not a very commandery thing to do – which is just reason nine million and twenty six thousand why Luca adored her so much. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, Ensign.”

“One of the highest order, ma’am,” Luca tells her seriously, adjusting the strap on his guitar just as the door opens.

Another quiet moment ticks by. Luca is almost cross eyed by the time his spoon drops into his lap. “Do you ever think about how spoons are just tiny bowls with sticks attached to them?”

There’s silence and it stretches. Luca glances around the table and finds a multitude of pinched faces. Ajax looks mad, Ben looks delighted, the Commander looks like she’s praying to the gods for deliverance as she breathes deeply through her nose, Sabre’s expression are calculating but surprisingly, it’s Mason that loses it first.

He turns his face into Sabre’s side, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Sabre’s lips twitch once then twice before he joins in. Then Ben, then Marie, and then Zeus even rumbles something. Ajax is the only one who doesn’t laugh, glaring around the table like he wants to murder them all as slowly and as painfully as possible. Luca shuffles ever so slightly closer to Ben. Marie was wrong, he thinks. He was a little scared of Ajax. Just a tiny bit, but he’s pretty sure Ben could take him if it came to that.

“Va bene,” Zeus booms. “Time to eat. Mangia!”

It’s easier when the food is in front of them. Luca helps Ben scoop out something red and cheesy, adding an extra dollop to his plate with a grin. “I know what you guys are like,” he whispers then does the same to Ajax just to stay on his good side.

The food seems to make them all relax, but only just.

“This is so fucking weird,” Ajax mutters around a mouthful of pasta.

Luca looks at the twirly shapes on his plate, drenched in quite possibly the tastiest sauce he’s ever come across. Even Mar’vera, the Asari that manned the roadside kiosk near his father’s place on the wards didn’t have stuff that tasted as good as this.

“Isn’t this pasta stuff a big thing back on Earth?”

“Not the food, idiot,” Ajax says it without any heat. He shovels in another mouthful as he gestures around the table.

Luca looks around curiously at the phoenix assembled there. “Oh. Why? Didn’t you do this all the time back in… phoenix land?”

“That’s not actually a thing, Luca,” Mason says with a snort. “Neither is phoenix school.”

“He means Phoenix One,” Marie cuts in, shooting Mason a look.

“Yeah,” Luca nods and waves his fork. A glob of sauce goes flying, narrowly missing Sabre. Luca’s pretty sure he would have to sleep with one eye open if that glob had ended up on a his very expensive looking outfit and he gulps nervously. “That.” He chews. “Wait, what’s Phoenix One?”

There’s an uncomfortable glance around the table when suddenly they all find their plates very interesting. Luca looks at Marie but she offers a small little shrug and keeps eating.

“Um…”

“It’s… complicated, Luc,” Mason says, not meeting his eye.

“Is it?” Luca wants to turn to Ben but he’s not oblivious to the way the vanguard beside him hunches over so he shrugs and stabs his pasta and chews enthusiastically instead. These phoenix guys were weird.

There’s a little stilted conversation around the table that Luca and Marie try to carry, but it’s still awkward. Mason and Sabre share too many sidelong looks and small smiles and Luca almost wonders if everyone should clear out and give them the room. He tries not to stare and leans in towards Ben, whispering out the corner of his mouth.

“I guess the divorce is off?”

Ben blinks in confusion before Luca jerks his head then realization dawns. Ben nods his head happily. He leans in close and Luca has to concentrate hard on what he says instead of getting distracted by how warm he is and how he smells far too earthy for being surrounded by the vacuum of space. “Archer,” he whispers. “Other brother. Talked sense and cooked brain food.”

Luca has no idea what that means but he’s utterly enthralled regardless. “Oh,” he says, like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever heard but only because it is because Ben and he really likes the way Ben’s eyes kind of crinkle at the corners when he smiles and the way his canines seem a little sharper than the average human and the way his skin-

There’s a nudge against his boot that snaps him out of it and he looks up to see Sabre eying him with amusement.

“You were drooling,” he says, then flicks a napkin at Luca’s direction courtesy of a blue haze.

“What?” Luca squeaks as the napkin smacks him fair in the face.

“Are we going to have to give this kid the shovel talk?” Sabre asks no one in particular. Luca doesn’t know what a talking shovel is but it can’t be good and he shoots a panicked look in Marie’s direction.

“No,” she says firmly, fingers white around the stem of her wine glass. “We do not.”

“No shovel,” Ben says sternly, glaring at Sabre and Luca shoots him a grateful look.

“Um, thank… thank you?”

Ben knocks his shoulder and goes back to eating. Like almost everyone else at the table, he’s well onto his second serve.

“Marie, what’s this kid’s qualifications. Is he up to the job?”

“I’m going to be polite and pretend you didn’t just ask me that, Sinclair.”

“He���s one of Marie’s,” Mason reminds him. “So we know he’s solid.”

“Uh, hello? I’m right here,” Luca snaps irritably. What the hell? He’s about to open his mouth to complain some more but Ben leans over and he’s immediately distracted by the heat radiating off him.

“You get used to it. They do this a lot.”

Sabre looks momentarily offended by that. “Ben.”

Ben shrugs and licks the sauce off his fingers. “It’s true. Because youngest.”

“Because we’re supposed to look out for you.”

Mason chuckles and reaches for his glass. “Remember that time we took Ben to that strip club for his birthday?”

“That was definitely one of our more brilliant idea,” Sabre says mildly. Mason gives him an incredulous look.

“Okay, you and I remember that night very differently, Eth.”

Sabre’s slow smile has a distinctly predatory edge to it. “Do we?”

“Wait, you took him to a strip club?” Marie blinks and Mason bristles slightly.

“It was his birthday.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs behind her hand, like she knows something the rest of them don’t. Mason grins then.

“Oh, you’ve heard this one before, huh?”

“No, but I can only imagine with you involved.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Marie waves her hand. “Continue.”

“I’m not sure I should now,” Mason mutters and Luca isn’t sure if he should be alarmed or not that the supposed leader of the fiercest human biotics in the galaxy pouts. Actually pouts, with the bottom lip and everything.

“Mason let him get drunk and then he ended up on stage with the dancers,” Zeus suddenly rumbles, cutting in to the conversation. Marie lets out a peel of laughter and Mason curses. “It was a riot. Had to pay for damages before they would let us leave.”

Ben looks confused. “Did I break something?”

“Only a lot of hearts, Benji,” Ethan chuckles indulgently and Mason snickers.

Luca tries very hard not to picture what the phoenix beside him would look like on a stage in colorful strobing lights and very little clothing in case his brain short circuits.

It does anyway.

“Uh,” he manages faintly. His voice suddenly feels like it’s coming from very far away.

“He ate the foliage on P1 too, once.”

Mason exhales heavily. “Phew, yeah. Now that was a rough night.”

That seems to snap Luca’s attention back and he eyes Ben and wonders if he needs to reconsider his crush. “You’re not gonna try to eat Meli, are you?”

There’s a little chirp in the corner from the drone when it hears its name. Ben cackles. “No, too spiky.”

“So was this your plan?” Sabre looks up from his glass as he addresses Zeus. “Get us all together to reminisce about old times?” His tone is faintly mocking but Zeus doesn’t react other than to pause his eating.

Ajax lets out a bark of brittle laughter. “Just hope that Huntsman doesn’t try to make another one of his fucking speeches.”

“Get fucked, Ajax,” Mason tells him cheerfully.

“We’re all hoping for that, Huntsman.”

Mason opens his mouth only for Marie to wave her knife threateningly in his direction. “Don’t fucking say it, Mase.”

Mason throws his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says but Luca hardly knows Mason from a bar of soap and even he recognizes that’s a lie.

“You’ll have to tell me the story behind that one later,” Luca hears Sabre whisper before pulling Mason in for a kiss.

“And there goes my fucking appetite,“ Ajax mutters, shooting daggers across the table.

Mason looks like he’s about to snap something else but Sabre’s hand lands on his knee. There’s a lowly uttered, babe and then just like that, Mason’s bristle fades. Luca was starting to understand why Marie had been concerned. Insurance policy, she had said but he’s not so sure a nobody like him would be able to do much if this lot decided to go to war.

RIP the SSV Berlin, Luca thinks. The captain will be pissed.

“This is the first time we’ve ever done this,” Zeus rumbles suddenly. His voice isn’t overly loud but it seems to carry across the room and make them all sink into their seats. Zeus scans his golden eyes around the table, skimming over each face until he stops and settles on Ben. “All of us.”

Ajax scoffs into the silence. “Fucking sentimental bullsh-“

“Maddy,” Marie hisses and Luca realizes with a start she looks like she’s on the verge of tearing up. Evidently Ajax realizes it too because he curses under his breath and sits back, arms folded tight across his chest and blue eyes simmering with ire he’s only just keeping in check.

Mason pushes aside his plate and gives up all semblance of good humor. He leans against Sabre. “The last time, at this rate.”

“So dramatic, Huntsman,” Ajax can’t resist a final dig.

Mason makes a visible effort to swallow his retort. Luca wonders curiously what would have happened if Sabre hadn’t been there. He shivers with the crackle of energy in the air, the latent biotics making his teeth ache again. It was going to fuck with his aids, he’s sure of it.

“We’re the only ones left,” Zeus continues. “Like it or not. There’s only us.”

“We’re not some fucking brady bunch, Zeus,” Ajax snaps. “Fuck this. I’ll go, then it really will be like old times-“

“No!” Ben jumps up, grips Ajax’s arm tight. “No, stay.”

“Aw, fuck, Scoots. This isn’t… It’s not you, okay.”

“Stay,” Ben sits Ajax down roughly and Luca has enough sense to shove the last of the pasta in his direction. He almost smiles as he takes it. At least Luca likes to think it’s a smile. It’s barely even a grimace, just a tight stretch of his lips over sharp teeth but there’s a collective easing of tension around the table.

“Hey,” Luca says brightly into the silence. “Wanna hear a song?”

[mason-knight-retired]

Watching you train... I am so turned on right now.

Mason’s wrist pinged as he was draping the towel around his neck and wiping the sweat from his brow. His dark hair fell limp across his forehead, damp from the hours long workout Mason had just finished. He wasn’t completely up to his project phoenix standard – they might never be without the might of Cerberus and all their credits and tech behind them – but he was a damn sight better than what he had been since crawling out of Omega.

He crossed the room, coming to stand in front of the man lounging against one wall.

“You know, I’m right here, babe. You could just come and tell me that in person,” he teased, raising an eyebrow at his husband. Ethan’s shirt was too tight across a broad chest and Mason wanted nothing more than to peel it off him.

Ethan’s mouth curved. “If I did that, I would have to touch you.”

Mason pretended to consider that. “Hmm. Yeah, failing to see the issue there.”

His husband gave a low chuckle and straightened. Ethan stepped closer and Mason was caught up in his familiar scent. “Wouldn’t want to scare these poor jittery Alliance folks, would we?

Mason snorted in spite of the heat curling inside him. “Don’t kid yourself. You’d love nothing more than to do that. How many times have you sent those little engineers scurrying off today, anyway?”

“You know me too well. And at least four times. I'm not sure if they're curious or they both have a death wish.”

"Both, probably. They have to be a particular sort to survive in Marie's squad." Mason cocked his head. “So where have you been anyway? Why weren’t you out on the training mats with me?”

Ethan gave him a look. Mason knew that look. That look held promise and heat and pleasure that boarded almost on pain. Ethan was still the only person who could make Mason feel like that. He almost shivered in anticipation .

“Got anything left in the tank, Huntsman?”

Mason smile was slow, and a little bit feral. “I always have plenty left in the tank for you, Sabre.”