How did it end up like this? Inho laughed a little bitterly to himself, trying his best to ignore the alarms ringing all around him. It was something he often thought about these last few months. How exactly did he end up like this? Alone, shot in the leg, trapped in a corridor while flames crept steadily closer to him. The smoke was growing thicker, and the only reason he could breathe was because of the helmet of his combat armor.

He was going to die here. Despite Hanjin trying to get the other door open, he knew his former partner wouldn't be able to get through. The fire doors were meant to keep the flames at bay afterall. If only he'd moved a little bit faster, he'd have made it. But a shot to the leg does that to you: slows you down. Besides, had he not shoved Hanjin through the door, they'd both be trapped here right now.

In the end, he supposed it was fair. Hanjin was a better officer than he was, despite how misguided he might be. And Inho couldn't judge him. He was no better in the long run. Hanjin at least acted on his convictions, and didn't waver...or at least, if he did, Inho didn't know about it. If only Inho had been as dedicated, none of this would have happened.

He should have taken the shot. Yes, it would have meant that the others would be in jail, but at least they'd have gotten a trial. The right judges could have been convinced to be lenient.

But no. Inho chose their freedom, and now he was alone, and about to die. It almost felt like a mercy for him to just remove the helmet, and die of the smoke inhalation. And he secretly was wishing the shot had been a little more accurate: the shot could have hit his artery and he'd be dead already. But it was his choice.

And he didn't regret it.

Inho closed his eyes and tried to ignore the alarms, the heat, the pain in his leg. Instead, he remembered.

Narrow escapes.

Drunken nights.

Stealthy investigations.

Long conversations in the pilot's chair.

Panic in the engine room.

Discoveries in the sick bay.

Laughter.

Sobs.

Blood.

The final look of betrayal and accusation…

And again...how, after all of that, did it finally come to this moment?

9 months previously…

Inho felt like hitting something. It was bad enough that his 'superior' on the Citadel was an with a superiority complex. But to be so readily dismissed from a perfect, career changing opportunity was more than just ry. It was just disrespectful. At twenty four years old, Inho had already spent close to two years walking the beat of the center of Council space. His first year was spent just being an officer of the law. Working with the alien species of the Citadel never proved to be dull, but the paperwork...that could kill a Krogan. It was when he could be in actual action that Inho felt most fulfilled in his chosen profession. Subduing the raging Hanar, arresting the Asari Consort's imposter, the chases through the wards be it on foot or in one of their vehicles, those were the moments Inho lived for.

But here he was now, being sent back to a desk job he really, truly hated. He could accept that paperwork was necessary. But why was it him that had to do it?

“You punched the reporter in the face.”

“She was making false claims.”

“Its my job to face punch, if anyone's, not yours,” Ok Bongpal, Inho's superior glowered at him from across the desk, “haven't I told you to keep that temper in check? How is anyone going to respect your work if you can't control yourself?” Inho felt like shouting back, but chose to keep his mouth shut as his friend Hanjin gave him a sideways look.

“She really did have it coming.”

“While you are probably correct,” Bongpal gave Hanjin an amused smirk, “your partner here is going to cost me a whole day of making nice to the press. But that means a good opportunity for you, Hanjin my man.” Bongpal, slid a file over to Hanjin. Inho looked over as Hanjin opened the document, and raised his brows in interest.

“There have been reports of some Turian arms smuggling. Nothing too serious. But there have been some murmurings of this being linked to General Tarrus,” Hanjin let out a whistle at the name. Both he and Inho had experience dealing with that Turian. An old, retired general who spat on Humans, and actively campaigned against their presence on the Citadel, “and I was supposed to begin my undercover work soon. But thanks to you ,” Bongpal looked pointedly at Inho, “I'm needed for damage control. So instead, I've put Hanjin's name up for this.”

“Eh?” The partners both exclaimed in surprise.

“You said you'd been wanting to do undercover work. This is a good one to start with. Nice and easy. Just pretend you're the hired guns for a smuggler ship, and take footage of the exchange. You land, leave, and done. Easy as can be.”

“When do we-”

“No we about it,” he smiled smugly at Inho, “your sorry is going to be doing paperwork through the rest of the month. Hanjin will go solo on this. Do well, and there could be promotions and honors waiting.”

Nevermind that Hanjin had also taken a swipe at the nosy reporter. It only counted because Inho had managed to land a hit. So while Bongpal briefed Hanjin, Inho was back to the wards to finish the most assuredly there stack of documents. The only silver lining was that at least Hanjin would get a chance to shine. Even if he felt a little bitter at being left behind in this, Hanjin worked just as hard as he did in the academy.

And speaking of which-

“Hey! Inho!” Hanjin called from behind him.

“Hey,” he paused to wait for his friend, “you going to have time to meet up tonight? Or are you-”

“Dude, you're coming with me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“We're doing this undercover together. I got the boss to see it my way. It's better for two of us to do this,” he was ushering Inho towards the elevator, “we've got to get to requisitions. How's your aim with the scope lately? Still ?”

Hanjin was beaming proudly. Whatever he did to convince Bongpal to let them work together, he was certainly proud of the accomplishment. Inho gave credit where it was due. Few others as fresh as them from the academy had a way with words like Hanjin. Or with a sniper rifle. Fifteen out of ten is what they called it. Two shots exactly where they needed to be with only ten targets. Granted, it was a waste of ammo, and the instructor had been impressed by Inho's quick work with the assault rifle in a quarter of the time, but it had that quick finesse other cadets lacked. Inho certainly lacked it. But it was of little consequence. He got the job done either way. After entering the elevator, and waiting in silence for a moment, Hanjin resumed speaking.

“In two days we leave. We've already been 'hired'.

“Which ship?”

“A smallish frigate called the Fringe,” he gave Inho a knowing look, “based on intelligence, the ship takes on small transport jobs mostly. But it has been linked to smuggling. And they are looking for hired guns. That's us.”

“How are they certain this is the ship we need to be on?”

“Because another agent is already working the arms ring. And their top ship?”

“The Fringe.”

“Exactly, my friend. Exactly,” the elevator doors opened, and the pair exited.

2 days later…
 

Inho adjusted the dark jacket he wore, feeling uneasy in the docking bay. He was so used to wearing the uniform these days, he felt awfully out of place in more civilian attire. Unlike himself, Hanjin was sitting comfortably, and relaxed, on one of the cargo boxes. He watched in amusement as Inho paced back and forth. Art his feet were cases for the armor and weapons they'd procured. Hopefully they wouldn't need it, but they couldn't be certain.

It'd been two days since, and they received the message to meet their new 'employer' in the Citadel docking bay. And thirty minutes after they were supposed to have met the captain or his second.

“Your pacing is making me impatient.”

“This waiting is making me impatient,” Inho huffed, “you make a deal, and then you close on it. What's so hard about being on time?”

“Had our piece of fluff navigator not gotten turned around,” a calm, but ever so irritable sounding voice said near them, “we would have been here an hour early.”

Approaching them was two males, both blonde. The taller of the pair had a mess of hair atop his head, and wore a mask over her face. The image of a lower jawbone was painted on it with striking detail in black and white. Even from here Inho could see the details. The other was significantly shorter, but his hair seemed better kept, and his face fully revealed. Based on the clarity in the volume and tone, he assumed the shorter one was the one who spoke.

“Apologies for the wait gentlemen,” the shorter man greeted them with a curt nod of his head, “I am Yoonshik, second in command of the Fringe.”

“Hanjin, and this is my partner Inho,” Hanjin extended a hand out to the pair, to which Yoonshik shook it firmly.

“This is captain Hugo,” the man in the mask inclined his head in greeting, his eyes sparkling with interest, “the Fringe is in hangar seven. Follow us.”

Without another word, Yoonshik his heel and proceeded towards the farther hangar. Hugo, stayed behind a moment longer, seemingly considering the pair, before motioning for them to proceed ahead of him. Hanjin and Inho exchanged a quick look, and then Hanjin followed Yoonshik. Once Inho was falling in step behind him, he could feel the presence of the captain behind him. The way the supposed captain never spoke, and simply regarded them behind the mask unnerved him. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, only to have Hugo quirk an eyebrow at him in amusement.

That was unnerving as hell behind that skull mask.

Neither Yoonshik or Hugo spoke any further. Inho again felt incredibly out of place in this part of the Citadel. The last time he was here was when he and his mother and siblings all first came to the Citadel, hauling all their literal earthly belongings. They'd been relegated to the lower levels of the wards, and the next time he saw a hangar, it was for C-Sec. The crews of these ships weren't nearly as organized as the C-Sec crews, nor the military. Instead most were casually chatting, some loading cargo, and he could see some card games being played with bets being made. It was definitely a lot livelier here.

“I can see three safety code violations already,” Hanjin whispered to him lowly, “and I'm pretty sure there's some illegal gambling happening.”

“It's not hurting anyone,” Inho replied, shrugging.

“Yet,” Hanjin frowned, “I'll bring up to the boss later.”

“You two don't muttering? We're here,” Yoonshik called back to them.

And this was definitely not the ship they were expecting.

When one thought of a civilian cargo ship, when it was not sponsored by a corporation or other well paid entity, he assumed they'd be bulkier creations. And even though they called it a small frigate, Inho didn't really think it'd be one.

How wrong they were.

Sleek, black with silver ts, and rivaling the profile of some of the Alliance and Turian military vessels, the Fringe was definitely smaller than the military frigates. Inho armaments too. Whoever was sponsoring this ship, expenses were not a limitation. That, or these supposed smugglers had managed to get their hands on someone's well spent money.

“This is the Fringe?”

“Don't look so surprised,” the eyeroll was ever apparent in Yoonshik's voice, “we weren't lying when we hired you. Most advanced non-military ship available. Follow me.”

Yoonshik and then Hugo walked past them to the ship where they were greeted by some unfamiliar workers loading cargo into the hull. Inho looked to Hanjin again. He shrugged, and followed after them, leaving Inho looking up at the ship once more.

“Excuse me!” A heavily accented voice said as warning a mere moment before a giant of a man pushed past him, carrying two boxes in in one hand while another was tucked under the other arm.

“Daebak! Be careful with those! We can't afford more medigel!” Another man, much smaller than the last, scrambled by, pausing just briefly to apologize to Inho, “Yah! Daebak slow down! We're not in a hurry!” Inho winced at the resounding crash that followed shortly afterwards.

“Inho!” Hanjin called out to him, “Check it out!”

The interior of the Fringe was just as impressive as the exterior. They were led through the halls, Yoonshik pointing out the kitchen, the sleeping quarters, and the med bay where Inho recognized the pair from before carefully (or at least, the shorter one was), going through boxes. The shorter one quickly snatched a few items from Daebak, giving him a wary glare while the giant just smiled good naturedly. Hanjin nudged Inho, inclining his head towards what appeared to be an armory. The door opened for only a moment, but the flash of combat armor caught his eye. Definitely not a normal cargo ship (if the fact that it looked like a frigate didn't give that away).

“Cockpit is that way,” Yoonshik paused as he motioned to the currently unattended flight controls, frowning a bit and muttering about a slacker before shaking his head and continuing, “and the galaxy map is here. You can place your belongings into bunk 3. Hugo will be chatting with you shortly,” Yoonshik made to leave, but instead turned to them one more time, “and if you pull any while on my watch...” he gave them each a pointed stare and resumed his exit.

“...I just realized who that is,” Hanjin muttered to Inho, “Choi Yoonshik.” Inho felt a chill at that name. 2 years ago, while he was in the academy, a case came up about a well trained agent, someone once considered a prime candidate to be a Specter for the Council. And he was found covered in his fiancee's blood. That man was eventually found not guilty due to lack of additional evidence, but he lost all status on the Citadel. That man was Choi Yoonshik.

“What have you gotten us into?” Inho responded as they made their way to the designated bunk, “This place is far more advanced than the dossier explained. And there's a trained killer on this boat,” he grumbled lowly and looked about to ensure no one was in earshot, “what else are we going to run into here? A salarian scientist working to cure the genophage?”

“You're hired until after the drop happens,” Hugo explained as he stood with his back to the pair, “as we explained during the negotiation with your employer,” he glanced at them over his shoulder, “our cargo isn't sanctioned by the Council or Alliance. We're meeting our client on Noveria in a week's time. We fully expect the drop to be a smooth transaction. But with the,” he paused a moment, seeming to choose his words carefully, “parties involved, I also expect there could be some action. That's why you both were hired. Keep my boys safe, and you'll be paid well.” The captain regarded them both with a sidelong look, “we're moving under the guise of transporting medical supplies. As you know, we're actually setting up a drop for some armaments. Nothing massive. Just some prototype rifle designs.”

“You don't need to tell us this,” Inho looked to Hanjin as he spoke to Hugo, looking at ease, “you hired us for protection.”

“I do believe in full disclosure,” Hugo's eyes sparked with something Inho couldn't identify. But an instant later the spark was gone, and his eyes were simply smiling at them, “enjoy your stay here. The ship is fully at your disposal.”

Inho couldn't shake that feeling of unease after that meeting. He knew. That was the only thing on his mind after being dismissed. It just felt way too easy to join the crew. Hanjin mumbled something in his sleep in the bed above him, and shifted. After the meeting, they'd set themselves up in the bunks, and shortly thereafter agreed to get some rest. But while Hanjin fell asleep, Inho lay awake, pondering the captain. With that mask on, Inho truly couldn't figure him out. And that all just reinforced that feeling of Hugo just...knowing something. While Hanjin dismissed it as the captain just being odd, it left Inho restless. Coupled with the sheer quiet of the ship. Inho was used to hearing the bustle of the wards around him as he slept. This ship was just too quiet...

Finally giving up on sleep, Inho rolled out of bed. He might as well check out the ship. Hugo had said it was at his disposal. Maybe he'd see about the armory. With how well equipped the single look made the ship look, Inho had begun to wonder why the Fringe would need to hire a protection detail.

The ship was not only quiet, but the crew was also absent. While it was a small number to begin with, it felt odd to wander about a practically empty ship. The hum of the computers and the light they gave off was the only company he had at that moment...or so he thought until he heard someone talking.

“Nah. Can't tell you.”

“Come on! Life's boring here,” two male voices were conversing. One sounded like it came from the cockpit while the other was clearly on the intercom.

“You should know better than to ask, you bastard,” Inho followed the voices to the cockpit where the once absent pilot was now sitting, his back towards Inho, “anyhow. Do you have that map to Noveria I asked for?”

“Just sent it to you. If you go in slow, you'll bypass their security with that route.”

“Thanks for the info Haneul. I owe you!”

“Sure, sure. I gotta get to sleep. If you need anything else, let me know.”

The communication cut off, and the pilot began entering coordinates, humming merrily. Inho quietly crept up in an attempt to discern what was being entered. Information like this would be invaluable, surely. However, as he drew closer, he began to notice the sophistication of the controls. He'd been aboard quite a few ships while in the academy, and even more in the simulators. The only time he'd seen something like this was when he'd boarded a Turian/Alliance collaboration being designed by the Alliance military. What was that ship called again…?

“Oh !” The pilot yelped in surprise upon noticing Inho, his shout startling Inho who also jumped back in shock. He didn't realize how close he'd gotten since he was so enamored with the ship's navigation system, “Don't do that, you tit!” The pilot held a hand to his chest as if to calm his heart, “I swear my heart stopped for two whole seconds!”

“Ah, sorry.”

“It's okay,” he turned in the seat to properly face Inho, “the others aren't usually awake at this time. Wasn't expecting anyone here. Hey! You're one of the newbies Hugo brought aboard?” Inho nodded, and the pilot grinned, “nice to meet you! I'm Jeongha, the ship's pilot and navigator.”

“Inho.”

“So what brings you here?”

“...couldn't sleep,” no harm in telling the truth for this he supposed.

“Ah. Yeah, it can be a little weird on a new ship. No worries. Take a load off,” Jeongha motioned to the currently empty co-pilot seat. After a moment's pause, Inho slowly sat, and watched as Jeongha finished entering in the coordinates, “I'm just setting a new course. Once it's fully done, I can sneak off and take a nap.”

“Sneak off?”

“Yeah. Yoonshik that thinks I should be at my 'station' at all times. Bah. Guy's gotta sleep once in a while too. Not like this ship couldn't navigate itself.”

“Really? I heard they'd been making real progress on the FTL autopiloting systems.”

“Hell yeah!” Jeongha entered on last command and then sat back, arms crossed behind his head, “But tell that to Yoonshik. You interested in navigation systems?” When Inho nodded, Jeongha continued, “Well this baby has one of the most advanced. Hugo got it not too long ago. It's made my life ten times easier, but I'm still learning it. At least it's not an actual AI. I think if it ever talked back to me aside from confirming my commands, I'd freak out,” from there, Jeongha continued to ramble on about the flight system, the engine, the way he could change the colors of his controls and displays with a few taps, and of course, “this thing is far easier to fly than an Alliance cruiser.”

“You've flown a cruiser before?”

“Well...yeah. Briefly back in the flight school of the academy back on Earth,” for a brief moment, Jeongha's grin faltered, “that was before the headaches began.” Inho simply nodded, “How bout yourself? You seem a little too interested in this stuff. Been to flight school too?”

“Actually,” Inho paused before he could finish his statement. No, better to not give the crew any real details on himself. He was already beginning to spin a quick cover when an alarm sounded on the corner of the navigation screen. Jeongha returned to the controls. It was an incoming message call alert.

“This is civilian cargo freighter Fringe.”

“Fringe. Your ship has been selected for inspection,” a series of code flashed across the console, and Jeongha groaned.

“Credentials acknowledged. I will patch you through to the captain,” a few more clicks, and Jeongha was having a quick conversation with Hugo.

Inho recognized that code instantly. Damnit. It was an Alliance vessel. They were probably stopping random ships in their space for inspections, and it figured it would be the Fringe they named as their winner. That's just what he and Hanjin needed. If they found anything amiss, they'd be taken into custody. And then they'd have to blow their cover to ensure they got out before being tried as part of this smuggler crew. And lo and behold, he'd get his grilled by Bongpal again, and the stacks of paperwork would resume at three times the rate.

“Hey Inho,” Hanjin's voice filtered into the room. The other officer looked understandably grim, and motioned for Inho to follow. Casting a glance at Jeongha who seemed more interested in the conversation happening between Hugo and the caller, he quietly followed Hanjin out towards the mess hall.

“Everyone is in getting up for a random inspection,” he motioned to the slow traffic of newly awakened crew members beginning to file out of their respective bunks, “just wanted you to know I've got it covered. Boss gave me some credentials to provide in case this happens.”

“...I'm more worried about how much fight this crew has over flight,” Inho added, “the last thing we want is them to decide to attack the Alliance.”

“The code should keep the Alliance off our backs...I'm going to convince Hugo to let me join in on the inspection. Hopefully it will give me time to provide the credentials, and avoid any bloodshed...because I hate to say it...but our orders are clear. If this becomes a firefight, we have to backup the smugglers until we get to Noveria.”

Inho felt a pit form in his stomach. What the hell? This was supposed to be a simple mission. Why the hell would they need to risk other human lives just to complete a smuggling sting?

“I'm going in. Keep an eye on things here.” Without Inho's acknowledgment, Hanjin was off. Confused by his partner, Inho just wandered back to the cockpit where Jeongha was now having a conversation with the shorter man from before.

“They're fine!”

“You sure?”

“Stop fussing-oh, welcome back!” Jeongha waved Inho over, “Hyuk, meet Inho. Inho, meet Hyuk. He's our reluctant medic.”

“Nice to meet you Inho. Sorry about earlier. Daebak gets careless sometimes, and doesn't realize he's a force of nature,” Hyuk shook his head, “I blame the Krogans. I better get back. Make sure you make it to the med bay after this inspection. Hugo sent me to remind you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeongha waved him off with what Inho now realized was an ever present grin, “I'll swing by later.”

The undercover officer re-took the co-pilot seat, and watched the screen ahead of them. Pictured was the bridge connecting the two ships. Hugo was on one side, and much to his relief, Hanjin was with him. Alliance officers were making their way towards them, carrying their own documents.

“Don't look so worried,” Jeongha commented, though his eyes were locked onto the screen as well, “we've had worse situations.”

“I'm not worried.”

“Well-”

And the ship suddenly shook violently. The image showed the crew in the bridge all being thrown nearly off their feet, looking about in confusion. Again, the ships shook, and Inho could swear he heard the sounds of ship artillery.

Loud, heavy footsteps resounded as someone ran down towards them. A moment later, and Daebak arrived, motioning wildly towards the radar screens.

“P...P…!”

“Just spit it out you !”

“POTATOES!” Daebak finally exclaimed in his heavily accented voice.

“The hell are you saying?” Inho's thoughts mirrored Jeongha's vocalization.

“Space potatoes!” Daebak looked genuine upset that they didn't seem to be as panicked as he was by these...space potatoes…? Inho would be laughing to himself had it didn't feel like they were already under attack…

“...oh . You mean PIRATES,” Jeongha exclaimed.