It was an uncharacteristically warm day for Elysium, a staggering 26 degrees, which lent much of the populace to wearing short, summery clothes. The Marines (and sailors) of the SSV Cairo, who were on shore leave on the planet, were no exception.

The Platoon Sergeant, Tan, was currently wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt, adorned in white flowers, tucked into a pair of cream-white cargo shorts sporting a very stylish brown belt. His socks, white, designed for sportswear, were pulled up, tight against his ankles, which meant his blue-and-black running shoes were not out of place. The grey Marine Corps holster, that ran a strap along his body and currently held a white service pistol was, however, quite out of place.

He was out with the more senior NCOs of the ship's Marine Detachment, currently sitting in a sports bar, sipping on a chilled glass of (expensive) orange-and-mango soda water. Oddly, for most Marines anyway, Tan didn't drink and never had in fact, something that tended to impress a lot of grizzled veterans and infuriated the younger ones.

His platoon's squad leaders, Sergeants Vanh, Rosenberg, and Whitman, and Hospital Corpsman Third Class Tilki, the platoon medic, were also wearing holiday clothes and enjoying a few drinks, theirs notably much more alcoholic.

From behind a bottle of cider, Vanh looked evenly at her platoon sergeant. "Duc," she said.

"Mmm?"

"You look like my dad."

"Hmm?"

"The Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. How are you, uncle?"

Tan grinned. The other NCOs all began laughing and guffawing. Tan offered Vanh a middle finger. "Suck it. At least I'm not drinking like your auntie." He pointed to the side at Rosenberg, who was currently nursing a massive, rounded glass, which contained an electric blue liquid.

"Yeah, true," Vanh retorted. Rosenberg looked unhappy.

"I think he's getting drunk enough to start sleeping with sailors," jeered Whitman.

"Ah, fuck you," came Rosenberg's reply.

"Nah, fuck me, huh? That's what you want?" Tilki started slapping his knee, mouth open in silent, mocking laughter.

"Alright, alright." Tan offered a hand, trying to calm the laughter at Rosenberg's expense. "We came to watch a game. I got 200 credits riding on the Shanxi Slayers."

For the moment, they seemed quelled.

"I've gotta take a leak." The Hospitalman excused himself, heading over to the bathrooms and disappearing within.

Tan was happily watching the game and enjoying the sensation of icy cold flavoured water filling his stomach and cooling him from inside.

There was a distant rumbling from somewhere in the distance that gave him pause.

"Is that… artillery?"

Tan cocked his head to the side. "I don't know. It's not 155's... "

"Relax." Rosenberg shrugged the noise off. "It's probably just a drill."

"An Army drill without standing us to? While we're on shore leave?"

"You know what the brass is like, Staff, they couldn't organise a root in a brothel."

"Yeah…" But Tan was uncomfortable, he walked over to the door, peering out. Another rumble rocked the ground and shook the windows. He saw it this time, in the distance, near the edge of his vision, a great muzzle flash from a weapon jutting just above the skyline. It was the planetary defence cannons.

He looked into the atmosphere, following the trajectory of the weapon.

There were dozens of shapes, lancing around in the blue above their heads. "Oh fuck…"

He dropped the door and sprinted back in.

The three sergeants looked at him puzzled.

"IT'S A FUCKING RAID!"

They were on their feet in an instant.

"You two," he pointed at Vanh and Rosenberg. "Find your squads, get to the armoury, grab weapons ASAP and stand to at the armoury! Whitman, grab Tilki and do the same, go together, move quick. Call me if something happens, until we grab radios."

They nodded, and began to move.

"What are you going to do, Staff?" That was Whitman, halfway to the bathroom.

"I have to find the Lieutenant. I'll meet you there. Vanh, you're acting PSG until I get back."

She nodded. "Good luck, Tan."

"You too."

He hesitated for a moment. He'd already drawn the pistol from its holster, but none of the other Marines had a weapon - they had been drinking alcohol when he hadn't. It was Marine Corps policy that off-duty Marines were allowed to carry a sidearm in the outer colonies like Elysium, but only if they did not intend to drink alcohol or consume drugs that would impair judgment and make the operation of a firearm a danger.

He knew what he had to do. He was heading deeper into the city. Raids normally happened quickly on the outskirts as the city was surrounded and isolated. Vanh and Rosie would be in more danger than he was. And, he reckoned, Shepard should have a sidearm when he reached her.

"Vanh, wait."

She stopped midstride, turning quickly. Rosenberg held the door open for them both.

"Take this," he offered.

Vanh tried to protest. "But Staff, I've been drinking, and you'll -"

He held up a hand. "I'll be fine." And he trusted Vanh like she was a sister.

She decided not to argue anymore, not wanting to waste valuable seconds. "Okay. Stay safe, Staff."

Then they were all off, experienced Marine NCOs grimly preparing for the next battle.

Tan spared one more moment to direct the bartender. "Friend, there's an imminent attack. Do you remember your raid training?"

The turian replied quickly. "Yes, but-"

"Good. Get the people in here safe."

As Tan ran out of the sports bar, leaving the turian bartender bewildered, he booted up his own omnitool and started dialing his platoon commander.

"I don't know about this one, Emilia," Rita said, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. They were both in civvies - Rita in a flowing blue dress that brought out her eyes, Shepard in a tshirt and shorts - and flip-flops. Being out of uniform felt kinda weird at this point.

Shepard looked over the pavilion a furrow forming between two dark eyebrows. The gardens were vibrant, rolling green, the stone plaza and paths bright marble. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's going to get cold," Rita pointed out, "We're getting married in autumn. What if it rains?"

"Okay, so we get an inside venue."

Rita sighed. "I feel like you're not taking this seriously."

Okay, sure, Shepard didn't really care about the colour of things or which flowers they got. "Rita, what matters to me is that I'm getting to marry you," She flashed her a bright smile, "I'd marry you at Ricardo's."

Naming the dive bar the officers of the Cairo frequented on Minerva Station. It'd been where Shepard had gotten up the courage to ask if she could buy Rita a drink.

Rita rolled her eyes but she was smiling, "That's not going to happen."

Shepard leant forward to kiss her - and that was when the whole city seemed to shudder with the rumbling. Shepard's head snapped up - in time to see the nearest planetary defence cannon, jutting above the apartment buildings nearby, spit out a projectile.

Fire blossomed across the sky as it impacted a descending ship, tearing into the squat, grey vessel's nose.

"What-?" Rita grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her forearm.

"We're under attack," Shepard said flatly. The teasing - all of it melted away into familiar, cool calm.

One of the workers for the wedding venue was nearby. Shepard seized him by the arm as he gaped. "Hey! The colony is under attack. Do you know where the nearest shelters are?'

"I-I, yes."

"Get everyone here there, now!"

He staggered off into a run.

"We need to get to the Cairo," Rita said unsteadily. Rita had a combat action ribbon, but she was a SWO, not a Marine. Her weapon was the cruiser itself. Not the pistol Shepard was wearing or the amp plugged into the back of her neck.

Shepard didn't think it was likely the Cairo was around to get to, even if shuttles could make it to her. Her omnitool buzzed.

She answered, "Tan. I'm guessing you've seen what I've seen?"

From the other end, his voice came back strong, but hard to hear amongst ragged breaths and terrible, loud gunfire from above. "Yeah, we were out drinking, the senior non-coms and me. They're on their way back to the armoury now! Vanh's in charge of the platoon until we get there. I'm on my way to you now! I know you're looking at wedding venues - where?"

"I'll send you the address right now. We'll be inside." She didn't want to stay in the open. A quick tap on her omnitool sent the address and she took Rita's arm and pulled her towards the main building.

That was when two men rounded the corner. A batarian and a turian, both in battered hard suits, rifles in their hands, and fucking 'capture collars' on their webbing.

There was a moment where they stared at each other, before the turian raised his rifle, pointing it at Emilia's chest. "Hands up."

She'd die first. She dropped Rita's hand and pulled her pistol out. Her biotics pulsed around her and then she was moving.

This is going to hurt without a hard suit, she had time to think before she slammed into the nearest pirate, and her biotic field collapsed with a deep, brassy boom. The shock ran through her painfully, rattling her very bones - but she hadn't broken anything, and the pirates were flung back by the force of her charge.

The turian struggled to his feet first, but Emilia was raising her pistol - thanking God she'd kept it loaded - and pulled the trigger twice. At point blank range it didn't trigger his shields - blowing the lower half of his face off.

"Bitch!" The batarian shouted and pulled the trigger of his rifle. The shot passed by Shepard's head with a supersonic crack and then she lashed out with a biotic-wreathed fist and smashed the side of his head in.

He dropped too and Shepard was left standing, panting, above two corpses. Her call to Tan hadn't disconnected.

"Be aware," she said as calmly as she could manage, "we have hostiles on the ground."

Rita was staring at her like she was a stranger, and Shepard was suddenly aware that her band t shirt - one her fiancée had bought her after a date to a concert - was splattered with blue and red blood.

"I'll be there in five."

Tan cut the call short. He hadn't realised they'd managed to land pirates already and really wished at least one of the other NCOs hadn't decided to have a drink - he wore a personal kinetic barrier, weaker than the military grade ones, but his holster was empty. He felt vulnerable, almost naked, like that.

He passed by a small park and noticing a small stone monument. They were loosely stacked upon one another, and he took a big one from it. He didn't spare any time to wonder what he had just desecrated, instead opting to focus on the weight in his hand. This would have to do for now.

He checked his omnitool, noticing the message that Emilia had sent to him. It loaded automatically into his maps app. It still worked, luckily, so the satellites hadn't been destroyed yet. Hopefully, communication could still go out.

He hurried along the streets, staying low. They were mostly empty, though a few dazed civilians wandered about, clearly not sure what to do.

He rounded a corner, then promptly pressed himself into a wall. There were a group of colonists on their knees, and a small group of pirates, a mixture of different species, were collaring them. He swore silently, then started to go back the way he came. He went back, then stopped. He should do something to help.

He peered around the corner.

"HEY, FUCK YOU BLINKS!"

They said something he couldn't hear, the one with the collars cocked his head, and then two of them were heading, almost lazily towards him. He held the rock in his right hand, and waited patiently.

The footsteps grew louder and the two pirates were unprepared. Clearly, they thought he was a panicked colonist and didn't expect any resistance. The first one stepped into his view.

Tan sprung, slamming his shoulder into the other man, a turian, and knocking him off balance. He swatted at the rifle, then brought his knee up in to the turian's side.

The batarian was just a couple of steps behind. He began to raise his rifle, bringing it to bear on Tan. He acted quickly, leaping forward, though from down low, so that he could smash the rock into the batarian's chin. He fell down, the rifle clattering uselessly beside him. Tan delivered a swift kick to the batarian's head.

He wheeled back on the turian, who had started to recover. Tan quickly grabbed his empty hand and pulled him in, flipping him so that his back was facing the group of slavers. The four of them left began to shoot at him, moving quickly forward to get in cover.

Tan yelled "RUN!" to the colonists who still hadn't been collared, and they obliged, spreading out.

The batarian, who was commanding the small group yelled, frustrated, but let them leave. The turian's KB was absorbing the rounds and, after a few seconds,Tan was able to pull him back behind the corner, safely into cover. It didn't take much to disarm the turian, and squeeze the rifle tightly against his chest, and then let one solitary round off. It tore through the ceramic plate, leaving a hole bigger than his own fist. The turian died in a moment, a look of shock and bemused fear on his face.

Then Tan sprinted away. He vaulted a low wall, into a small outdoor courtyard of a nearby cafe. From inside, he could see the slavers run towards the corner he had just been at. He waited a few seconds, letting them round it, before he made his own break.

They were well and truly gone, probably assuming he had sprinted down the road. He continued on his way.

A few minutes later, he had his stolen rifle and was entering the grounds that Emilia, just ten minutes earlier, had been sharing a cheeky kiss with her fiance in.

Shepard had ushered Rita into the main building of the wedding venue, pilfering one of the pirates' rifles and stuffing as many heat sinks as they had on them into her pockets.

Then she'd passed Rita her sidearm.

"Remember your combat training?" she asked, tone as reassuring as she could make it.

Rita gave her a ghost of a smile, sweat beading on her forehead. "Point the right end at the enemy."

"Something like that."

She noticed Tan making a break across the grounds and burst out the door towards him, "Tan! Over here!" She stopped for a moment at the sight of him, grinning, "Nice shirt." Then the mirth faded. "We need to get to the armoury. Any idea on what's happening with the Cairo or the garrison?"

Tan shook his head, breathing deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. "Negative," he said. "I've ordered the squad leaders to stand their squads to at the armoury. Vanh's in charge until we get there. The planetary defence cannons are still operational - or they were, anyway. I don't have a radio."

He smiled at her comment, though it was thin. The usually stoic, implacable man did not have the strange irony of this situation lost on him. "Thank you, ma'am. I like your flip-flops." He pointed down, then looked to Rita. "Very nice to meet you, too, ma'am, though the circumstances could be better. You'll have a beautiful wedding, I'm sure."

And then he was all business again. "I have my personal KB on me, and this rifle I took off a corpse." He pointed it at an angle, flicking his thumb over one of the buttons near the trigger guard and then accidentally fired a short burst into the ground. He stared at it for a moment, and the three neat holes in front of him.

Evenly, he said, "Let's pretend I didn't just ND. Did you secure the civilians?"

"Your secret is safe with me," Shepard said dryly, "same for my gear. Hopefully the militia armoury has some proper gear. Or at least vests. We should get moving. If this is a full scale attack on Elysium…"

Her brown eyes were grim when she looked at Tan, knowing he would pick up what she was getting at. If the pirates planned to crack Elysium, they'd need real military equipment to break the garrison. Stuff a pilfered rifle would be as helpful as throwing a rock at.

Tan was equally as grim. "Aye aye," was all he said in response. "Follow me, I'll take point. Grab the rear, Lieutenant. There are already slaver patrols in the streets, I came across a band on the way over here." He set off quickly, rifle at the ready, and started heading back the way he'd come.

"We have no idea what state the defences are going to be in." He looked up. The space battle - if it could even be called that - was still in full swing, though there were even more ships in the sky above now. If this was any indication, their defences wouldn't last too long.

Emilia nodded in agreement, falling back to their six. Her hands were sweaty on her stolen rifle, her flip flops slapping ridiculously against the concrete beneath their feet. They took the backroads, keeping out of sight and avoiding pirate patrols. Rita had gone quiet - and Shepard wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

The armoury wasn't too far - an easy fifteen minute walk in normal circumstances, but it was taking them close to forty. She could only hope the majority of her platoon would be waiting for them.

They were around the corner when the whole world appeared to shake, a roar echoing across the city that seemed to go on and on.

"What was that?" Rita gasped.

Shepard's eyes were drawn to thick, dark plume of smoke billowing over the city. "A bomb, or artillery. And that's...fuck. That's the army base."

"Fuck," Tan swore along with her. He did some mental calculations, based on what he could see. "It's probably short-range," he said. "They're prepared."

Grimly, he shifted his grip on the rifle. "We need to move quick. Emilia," he cocked his head back to look at her, very seriously. He had never used her first name before in a situation like this.

"We might be in for the fight of our lives." He left something unsaid. It might be them, alone, in for the fight of their lives - and Emilia Shepard might be the boss of it all.

Shepard swallowed. They were trapped in a city under siege and if the base was in that much trouble they wouldn't be seeing a counter attack any time soon. "Fuck. Alright, let's double-time it."