Dragon Age: Origins

Another Time Another Life

A/N: This was inspired by Louvette's future Grey Wardens fanart titled "Join Us" over at deviant art. It's an AU story where Dragon Age's Warden story gets a Mass Effect treatment. Setting in futuristic Ferelden, with Mass Effect's technologies. The characters are about eight years older than their canon counterparts. Cousland here is the very same one from my other story The Rose of Highever. There's a reason why I keep her in this story. The storyline will not follow DA:O. All bets are off.

The title of this fic is from Mass Effect 2 Samara's famous line.

The Griffon is loosely based on Mass Effect 2's Normandy SR2. Cousland's background is also loosely based on Spacer/Soldier/War Hero Commander Shephard.

The opening scene is a tribute to Mass Effect.

A big thanks to RandomWittering for beta-ing this chapter.

Disclaimer: Bioware owns both Dragon Age and Mass Effect.

Part I: Eternal Return

~ All this has happened before, and all this will happen again. ~

Chapter One: All This Has Happened Before

"Well, what about Cousland?" suggested a middle aged man with a full black beard.

"Military life runs in her family." A young man with short sandy blond hair read out loud from the profile. "Both her parents are admirals. She followed their footsteps and joined the military the day she turned eighteen."

"She is the only reason Highever is still standing," claimed the first man.

"She was awarded the Star of Thedas at the age of twenty-two for her efforts. Many look up to her, she is the poster child for the marines." The young man arched an eyebrow as he finished reading from the file.

"Yes, I remember her," said the third man with hair the color of light gold. His handsome features were strikingly similar to the youngest one in the group. "We can't question her courage. But do you think she has what it takes to pass the test?"

"It's a risk we have to take, sir. The Blight is here, we need all the help we can get," the first man replied firmly.

The third man considered momentarily then said, "Make the call, Duncan."

The air shuttle ride was just like any of the hundred others she had taken in her life. Lieutenant Commander Samantha Cousland glanced outside from the small window of the shuttle, saying goodbye to beautiful capital city of Orlais as her shore leave was unexpectedly cut short. Such was the life of a career soldier, Samantha knew all too well. As a child, she had her share of abruptly-ended vacations with her parents, when either of them was required to be on some important mission or another.

To the Cousland family, duty came first. Always.

She was not provided with any specific details on the mission. It did not surprise her, nor had she questioned further. There were too many things in the military that were strictly on a need-to-know basis, and too many things she might not even want to know. Samantha knew the drill; they hand you a mission, you get the job done.

And Lieutenant Commander Cousland had been known to get her job done, ever since that fateful battle five years ago in her hometown of Highever.

Good soldiers were not trained to ask questions, but it didn't mean they would not speculate. She was invited to meet with the elite group called the Grey Wardens. Well, invitation might not be the right term, since it was a direct order from her commanding officer.

The Grey Wardens were more than just legendary, they were also rather enigmatic - everyone had heard of them, yet few had encountered them. According to the legend, their order had existed for centuries. Even now, they were still the most elite group of soldiers who specialized in darkspawn killing. Operating outside the normal chain of command, they answered to absolutely no one else in the military but the president. It was the Grey Wardens of the past who had defeated the Blight, more than a few times throughout history. 'In war, victory; in peace, vigilance; in death, sacrifice' was their motto. Since there had not been a Blight for more than two centuries now, the Grey Wardens were no doubt in their 'vigilance' stage, taking out any scattered darkspawn that still surfaced from time to time.

So, to say that she wasn't startled when she received the order to meet with the legendary Order would be a lie, but Samantha was professional enough to keep her composure in front of her superior officer. It was not just any Warden that she was scheduled to have the meeting with, she had been told specifically to meet with their leader – the Captain of the Grey, Duncan.

She had an inkling as to why she was invited to meet with the captain: the Wardens wanted to recruit her. However far-fetched it might sound, that was the only conclusion she could draw. But why would the Wardens recruit now, after being rather exclusive in the past years? Their numbers had died down significantly comparing to centuries ago, to be sure, with only two dozen or so Wardens left in the entire world. Most countries didn't see the need to spend their precious military funding on this elite group, especially when there had not been a Blight for so long. Ferelden was the only exception, mainly because of Cailan's father, Maric.

Did they need new blood during this peaceful time? Perhaps. Still, she chose not to get her hopes up and halted all further speculation.

Tossing another idle glance outside the window, she found a vague image of herself reflected on the smooth surface, sky blue eyes staring back at her. She had been told too many times that she didn't look like a soldier. Perhaps her features were too soft and delicate to fit the image of a seasoned warrior. Her enemies would be making a big mistake by underestimating her, and such mistakes were often fatal. But then again, most of her targets had never seen her face, for she would often end their lives with one single bullet through their forehead with her sniper rifle.

The twenty-seven year old marine looked as professional as ever in her fitted black hard suit, scratches on her armor served as badges of honor. A meeting with the Wardens did not require to be suited up, of course. But Samantha liked to travel light, instead of storing her light armor in another duffel bag, she chose to wear it. Besides, if the Wardens wanted to recruit her, it would be because of her skill as a soldier, not how good she looked in a dress. Her armor would be more appropriate attire than the dresses she had in her suitcase for the Val Royeaux vacation. Said suitcase had been sent back to her apartment in Denerim, the rest of her essentials were neatly stored inside a bag by her feet. Practicality had been drilled into her even before she started her life officially as a marine recruit, at least when she was on duty. The only thing she allowed herself to sway from the harsh military image was her long hair, which was now neatly tied up in a golden bun, safely within the standard dress code.

It was no accident that the military used her as the gold star standard for new recruits. Samantha did not like that attention one single bit, yet she knew the decision came from the top - there was nothing she could do, despite her personal feelings about being used as recruitment bait. After all, who would better served as the poster child for the marines than the savior of the Highever incident? Not to mention that the Couslands had served in the military for many generations, she could almost be considered being some sort of military blue blood. Some of them even held positions as high as admirals, the most recent examples were none other than her parents, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland.

She had always been close to her family, even though she seemed to be constantly living under the shadows of both Admirals Cousland. To some extent, it was true, even her older brother Fergus had made captain last year. And what was her rank? Right, lieutenant commander. Still, Samantha didn't mind being the youngest and the lowest ranking Cousland in her family. Military had been her life ever since she took her first breath, some might even say it was in her blood. Sometimes, it might even seem as though everything had been chosen for her even before she was born, that she was destined to be on this particular path, living this particular life, in this particular time.

Destiny? Samantha let out a faint snort at that ridiculous thought. There was always a choice, nothing was written in stone. Even if so called destiny were craved in marble, someone could always use a laser tool to remove the surface layer, erasing the words on the stone, then started anew. A clean slate, or tabula rasa - she had always liked those words.

Samantha shook her head to clear any more random thoughts. The flight would take a few hours, as she had been told. She relaxed on the seat then pressed a switch on the device on her wrist. Her omni-tool booted up instantly, forming a hologram with an orange glow wrapped around her left forearm. Slender fingers rapidly danced across the small keyboard of the device, forming a brief email message to both her parents, informing them of her sudden assignment. There was a small surge of pride as she typed the words 'Grey Wardens' on the small screen, Samantha could only imagine the look on Fergus' face when he found out who had demanded an emergency meeting with his 'little Sammy'. Perhaps Fergus would send a vid mail to her, or even demand a vid chat later. Who knew being a new captain would mean having more time in his hand?

After the 'send' button was pressed, her finger moved to tap yet another button, and a holographic screen popped up. Samantha idly watched the news program in an attempt to quiet down the budding excitement inside her. Hardly anything could rattle the ever-so calm Samantha Cousland, but then, meeting with the Grey Wardens could hardly count as just anything.

A beautiful couple was on the news again. It was hardly a surprise, for the blonde pair seemed to appear everywhere - dinner parties, official functions, baby-kissing photo ops. The popularity poll for both President Theirin and his wife, the vice president, were sky-high. And why not? Both were young and attractive. Also very intelligent, well, at least the wife was. Together they would usher Ferelden into a new era, or so said their campaign slogan five years ago.

Samantha switched off her omni-tool with a sigh. The butterflies in her stomach refused to be quelled by some news program. Switching strategy, she reached for a datapad from the side of her bag and started reading. She had always loved to read - it was a side to her that not too many knew about. An even lesser known fact was that when she was much younger, her favorite stories were often fairy tales of old. She had kept that silly pastime as a secret from everyone, except those who were closest to her. To date, only five people knew about her once obsession with fairy tales as a child. Four of them were Couslands. And the last one...

Frowning at the unexpected flash of memory, she willed her mind to backtrack before it was even close to that slippery slope. Some things were best left buried inside forever. Samantha diverted her attention back to her datapad; reading had always been an effective way to clear her mind. Her current reading material wasn't any mission briefings but a novel. A historical novel roughly based on the fifth Blight that took place centuries ago in Ferelden, in which an exiled Prince and a pampered noble lady joined the Grey Wardens. Together they had embarked on a journey to end the Blight and save the country. Even though at first glance, Samantha found the premise rather ridiculous, she couldn't deny the book was the perfect guilty pleasure once she had started it. Perhaps that was how it had become a best seller.

Time flew by while she was busy indulging in her secret hobby. Samantha had to chuckle out loud during the part where Prince Alexander tentatively revealed his identity to his Warden companion. The characterization of Alexander was quite good, she had to admit. He was witty, loyal, and friendly. Surprisingly, the author was a man, and Samantha briefly wondered if he had gotten feedback from a female to form the perfect man in his tale.

A glance at the information panel nearby informed her that the estimated time of arrival was within the next nine minutes. Samantha put down her datapad and peeked outside again. There was nothing but water as the shuttle flew by. She was above the Waking Sea, she recognized, traveling roughly east. Forming a map inside her head, she estimated her destination would be around the border of Ferelden.

Why wasn't she being sent to Denerim directly? The Grey Wardens had their headquarters right in the heart of the city, next to the presidential palace. Fine brows knitted in mild perplexity, but she was not about to give it too much thought. All her questions would soon be answered. And if they weren't, it was because the answers were above her clearance level.

The shuttle veered south and approached the shoreline as the Frostback Mountain was in sight. Samantha watched the changing scenery with the patience of a well-trained sniper. After all, patience was the one of the most important parts of sniping - calmly waiting for that one perfect shot, as she had been trained to, in the years since she had picked her speciality. The shuttle flew past the snowy mountain and approached a nearby city. Her mental map told her it was Jader. Yet, it made no attempt to descend. Instead, it hugged along the shoreline for another minute after it passed the border city of Orlais, and flew into Ferelden territory.

Near Ferelden's side of the border, in the middle of nowhere, there was an old military airbase. Although she knew about it, Samantha had never been there. Until now. Resting in this isolated airbase was one very distinctive aircraft, with a blue griffon logo proudly displayed on either side, along with its name "Griffon" in the same hue of blue on the silver surface.

Her fine brows arched up high at the sight of the famous Grey Warden aircraft. So this was where her meeting with the elite Order would take place. Samantha was beyond surprised, for rumor was that no one but the Wardens and a skeleton crew were allowed to be on the Griffon, except, of course, the president himself, who was the major supporter of the Order, both politically and financially.

The Griffon grew bigger and bigger as the shuttle approached its destination. By the time it landed on the airbase and docked next to the famous aircraft, the sheer size of the Grey Warden's air fortress dwarfed the tiny shuttle, so much so it was completely engulfed by the Griffon's shadow. Samantha tried to look up at the Griffon through the small window. It was a rare opportunity to not only have a glimpse of it in person, but to be at close proximity. Although the view outside the window held nothing but its metallic silver surface and a corner of the blue symbol – the griffon's claw, it was more than enough to bring a grin on her face.

A subtle shake of the shuttle shifted her attention. A faint hissing sound indicated a connecting walkway had been sealed between both vehicles. Samantha turned away from the window. In the blink of an eye, the almost child-like wonder on her face vanished into thin air and was replaced with a professional demeanor. Twinkles in the sky blue eyes were gone, the smile on her lips disappeared. It was time to meet the Wardens face to face for the first time.

Gathering her belongings, she stood ready by the shuttle door and waited for the door to slide open. Once it did, Samantha stepped though and cleared the short walkway, then stopped a few steps in front of the metal door with the name "Griffon" proudly painted on it. A computerized voice announced the process of decontamination sequence. Samantha remained still with practiced patience until it announced the sequence was completed. The metal door in front of her hissed and slid open as an invitation to board the famous vessel and she marched right through without delay. Everything was standard procedure, as she had expected. Except she had not expected to be greeted by the person who was waiting for her in the entrance hallway of the Griffon.

"Commander Cousland." A tall man with heavy black beard and sharp dark eyes nodded politely. His outfit was not a military standard edition formal uniform, but a special one made just for the Grey Wardens. The famous griffon insignia embroidered proudly on the chest of his well-pressed jacket.

Although very much caught by surprise, Samantha didn't miss a beat and snapped into a perfect salute, both out of habit and respect, for standing in front of her was none other than the leader of the Grey Warden himself. "Captain Duncan."

"At ease, Commander." The captain offered his hand instead, and she took it with a firm shake. "Welcome abroad the Griffon."

Despite feeling very much in awe in his presence, Samantha managed to keep her composure and nodded respectfully. "Thank you, sir."

"I'm sorry to have to recall you back during your shore leave," Duncan apologized sincerely. "But we need someone like you."

A spark of hope ignited, did they really plan on recruiting her? Samantha resisted the urge to react to that statement, instead, her face remained as calm as ever. "I understand, sir," she responded with a sharp nod.

"Good. Take your time to settle in. You'd be spending some time with us in the foreseeable weeks. I have already cleared your schedule with your commanding officer." Duncan pressed the comm system on his wrist. "Alistair. Come to the bridge immediately." He then motioned her to follow him down the hall towards the bridge, where the combat information center as well as the cockpit were located.

Standing in front of the giant map of the CIC, listening to Duncan's brief introduction to the command center of the Griffon, Samantha took in everything in the heart of this state-of-the-art vessel. She grew up in various military crafts all her life, following her parents as they served their tours during their life long careers. There were times she spent in her family estate in Highever, to be sure, but oftentimes, the young Sammy Cousland could be found somewhere in living quarters of one vessel or another. She was no stranger to what the military was willing to spend on their latest toys.

But the Griffon was nothing she had ever seen before. Not only was it one of the most technologically advanced aircrafts in the entirety of Thedas, but it was also the second headquarters for the famous Grey Wardens, besides their permanent base in the heart of Denerim.

"Captain?" a smooth voice called out and Samantha turned to the newcomer. A tall young man with short sandy blond hair and a friendly yet strangely familiar face walked in. His uniform was not as formal as the captain's. The young man wore a simple black short-sleeved shirt and loose military pants. But the griffon insignia on his chest and on his belt buckle set his outfit apart from standard military casual wear.

"Alistair. This is Lieutenant Commander Cousland." Duncan motioned at her. "Commander, this is Commander Theirin."

That name had the ever so poised Command Cousland raising an eyebrow. Theirin... as in...? Fortunately for the visibly uncomfortable Commander Theirin, Samantha was too tactful to voice her inner question. She offered the young commander a sharp salute. "Nice to meet you, sir."

The young man seemed to be taken aback. "No need to be so formal. We are all family here. Well, sort of..." He extended a hand to her while shooting a sheepish glance at the captain, who merely shook his head in mild exasperation.

Samantha took it with a firm shake as she regarded the blond man subtly. She could see definitely the resemblances between him and President Cailan Theirin. Judging from his age, which seemed to be around hers, he could be President Theirin's younger brother. Although she hadn't known the President had any siblings. Cousin, perhaps?

"Alistair, show the commander around and help her settle in," Duncan instructed. "I'll see the two of you in my office at 1800 hour."

The captain turned and left and Samantha performed another salute out of habit. "We are not your typical military ship, you know. The Grey Wardens are a family of sort." Alistair observed her in amusement.

"But I am not one of you, sir," Samantha reminded him.

"Not yet-" Alistair shut his mouth quickly, but continued just as fast, "And please don't call me 'sir', it still sounds weird to me to this day."

"Yes, Commander."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Please, just 'Alistair'. I'm just Alistair to everyone else here." He paused then pondered for a brief second and added, "and everywhere."

"Very well, Alistair," she obliged.

"May I call you by your name? I don't like to call people with their titles here. It sounds so... impersonal."

"It's Samantha." Her first name didn't roll off her tongue as smoothly as 'Cousland'. If that was not an indication that she had been in the military for too long, she didn't know what else was.

"Right, Samantha, I remember seeing it on your profile. I like it. It's pretty," said Alistair absently with a nod of approval.

Samantha didn't know what to make of that, or how to react to that comment. But she was saved by her companion's inability to remain silent for long. "I don't mean to sound creepy, but... have we met before?"

Sky blue eyes widened in surprise. Instinctively, she studied the face of the man in front of her. He did look familiar, but that was most likely because of his uncanny resemblance to the President. If she had seen him before, she should know. After all, there weren't that many Cailan clones running around Ferelden. "I don't think so." She shook her head slowly.

"Hm..." The commander pondered with his finger tapping his chin as he tilted his head and regarded the blond woman in front of him thoughtfully. "You look familiar..."

An eyebrow arched and a faint half smile surfaced. "Perhaps I have a common face?"

He chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

She dodged the implication of the off-handed comment and shrugged. "Then perhaps you've seen me in those recruitment advertisements a few years ago," she suggested rather uncomfortably, then mumbled almost to herself. "Thank the Maker they stopped using those vids. I hated those."

Warm hazel eyes lit up. "Oh, that's right. The Hero of Highever."

Samantha winced slightly at that dreaded title.

"You know, I've always thought you would be more imposing in person." He looked her over in amusement.

She allowed him to inspect all he wanted. It was certainly not the first time she'd heard that comment. The image the military created for her was a rather intimidating one, putting her on the pedestal as the lone savior of the entire city of Highever. But that was far from the truth. The higher-ups knew that, yet it was too good of an opportunity to pass by for boosting the military image. It was a direct order from the top, Samantha was never given the choice to shy away from the title.

Samantha calmly looked at the man who was half a head taller than her. "Looks can be deceiving. I can handle myself better than most."

He flashed a small grin, his eyes twinkled in delight. "I'm getting that impression. Well, let me show you around or Duncan will banish me to the kitchen," Alistair said jokingly. "You don't want me to cook, trust me. I am so skilled that I burn everything that comes in my way."

She let out a soft chuckle at that mental image before she could stop herself.

"You should smile more. It suits you," said the young commander with a friendly smile of his own.

She certainly did not know how to react to that. Once again, she was spared from responding when Alistair picked up her pack on the floor. "I can take it myself-"

"Nah- Wow! What do you have in there?" He was surprised by the weight of her deceptively small bag.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Weapons. Mostly."

He raised an eyebrow with his warm hazel eyes lit up. "Weapons, huh? I can see why Duncan likes you. So do I."

For the third time since she met this blond man no more than ten minutes ago, she was rendered speechless without a proper retort. Samantha Cousland was not inarticulate in any sense; she might have Admiral Bryce Cousland's calm demeanor and level-head most of the time, but Admiral Eleanor Cousland's infamous silver-tongue had also been passed down to her. She could have been a military lawyer had she not liked her guns so much. But today, her mind and her tongue had both abandoned her.

Fortunately, her companion wasn't expecting any kind of response at all. "Right, let's go." He motioned her to follow as he walked towards the sliding door, exiting the bridge. "Well, let me show you where the lockers are first, just so we don't have to haul your toys around for the rest of the tour." He paused momentarily, then asked, "Do you mind if I take a look at your weapons, later perhaps?"

She shot him a curious look at his request. No one had ever asked to see her weapons before. Well, no one except... Samantha took a discreet long breath and halted her train of thought. Hazel eyes glanced at her expectantly, she saw no harm in showing him her precious collection. "I don't mind," she agreed with a light shrug.

"Good! Show me yours and I'll show you mine." Had there not be an almost child-like mischievous grin on his face, Samantha would have thought he was flirting with her.

Men and their toys. Typical.

"This is our second headquarters. But the captain is usually here, he doesn't like to stay at one place for too long. When we are done with our missions, we come back here to report back to him," Alistair explained as he led the way through the hallway.

"The Griffon seems pretty empty. You are often on missions, then?"

"Lately, yes," said Alistair whose friendly face turned slightly grim as he stepped in an elevator and pressed a button. "All of the Wardens are gone as of this moment, except for me, of course. And Duncan. We maintain a skeleton crew here, essential just to fly the Griffon, but not a single staff more than that."

"For security purposes," Samantha reasoned.

"Smart." Alistair grinned. "The less people we have, the less chance there's a security leak. But I trust our people, they feel like it's their greatest pride and joy to be assigned on the Griffon. Well, I feel the same way."

The elevator came to a stop. Alistair stepped out and casually waved at some staff members as he led the way. "Mess hall is here. Infirmary is over there by the mess hall. The captain's office is on the other side. And of course, the endless rows of what I call 'the coffins' are over there."

"'Coffins'?" This was the first time she heard of sleeping pods being referred to as coffins.

"Don't you think they look just like coffins?"

"Now that you mention it, they do." Samantha couldn't argue with that, although it sounded too morbid for her taste.

"Lucky for you, you don't have to sleep in the coffin. Those are for the technical staff on the ship. The rest of the Wardens have our own private quarters. Instead of sleeping pods, we have bunk beds. When one snores, the rest of us will hear. Oh, the joys of brotherhood."

"But, I'm not one of the Wardens," she reminded him.

"Well... Duncan said you can stay in the Warden's quarters for now. There's no one there anyway, beside me. Maybe he knows I'm afraid to be alone in the dark," Alistair claimed jokingly. "Anyway, the bathrooms are over on the other side. The one for the women is not as crowded, not that I ever peek inside, please don't look at me like that. Beside the staff, there are no female Wardens right now."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "There are none?"

"No... Not yet anyway," said Alistair as he took a turn down the short hallway. A metal door slid open when he approached. "Welcome to our home away from home." He waved one hand to motion the spacious barracks.

Well, spacious compared to other military aircraft she had been on. A row of bunk beds on each side of the room, each looking rather comfortable. Two tables with chairs around them were placed in the center.

Walking up to the bunk beds, Samantha discreetly peeked into a random empty one. Overhead light, build-in flat screen for communication and entertainment, even the pillows looked invitingly fluffy. So the rumor about Cailan's spare-no-expense policy with the Grey Wardens might be true. No wonder General Mac Tir openly opposed the president's pet project.

Alistair stepped up next to her and with a proud smile, pressed a button nearby. A metallic screen slid down and isolated the bed. "Soundproof."

Samantha arched an eyebrow at him. "I thought you said when one of you snored, the rest would hear."

"You actually listened to what I said? Wow..." He grinned.

"You mean I shouldn't?" she asked none too seriously, hiding a faint smile.

"Oh no. I didn't mean that." His grin widened. "I'm just not used to people actually listening to my babbling."

She regarded the blond man curiously. He certainly had the body build of a soldier, but he definitely didn't behave like one. He opened the screen again and moved away.

Alistair motioned at a row of lockers. "You can use any of the empty ones." He put her bag down and took a step back as she moved to unpack. Handgun, shotgun, assault rifle, all came out of the bag and were placed inside the locker she had chosen. Alistair eyed her assault rifle with great interest, she noticed, but his attention was diverted when she pulled out a case from the bottom of her bag.

She glanced at him when she heard he made a faint 'hmm' sound. His eyes glued to the black case in her hand, his face asked the silent question. Indulging his curiosity, she turned the case to face him and popped open the double locks, then lifted up the top of case for him to peek inside.

Then came a low whistle. "Sniper?"

"It's my preference. One clean shot to the head is all you need. You are the assault rifle type, aren't you?" she asked, closing the case.

He chuckled. "That obvious, huh? Yes, I like to be front and center in the heat of the battle, and preferably still alive afterwards."

"I couldn't tell by just looking at you. But the way you looked at my assault rifle might have tipped me off." She offered him a knowing glance before she pointedly shifted her gaze at the old rifle inside the locker.

Alistair reached up to touch one side of his face in mock concern. "I didn't look like a drooling lecher, did I?"

An unexpected snicker escaped from her lips, taking herself by surprise. She composed herself instantly and pressed her lips firmly together. Still, the corners of her lips refused to be flattened. Trying hard to ignore the wide grin on his face, Samantha returned her focus back on her simple task, and put the sniper case inside the locker along with the remainder of her belongings. All military standard issue items.

"Anyway, let's go introduce you to our resident doctor," said Alistair after she was done. "Hopefully you won't be needing her service, but she's one of the best doctors out there. She's like a mother to the rest of us. Or to me, at least."

She followed the commander to the infirmary. An elder woman with her silvery hair up in an immaculate bun was sitting by the desk with her back to the door, reading from several datapads.

"Wynne?" Alistair called out.

"Yes, Alistair?" replied the doctor without turning to their visitors.

"We have a visitor," said the young commander.

The doctor put her datapad down and swung her chair around. Her piercing blue eyes set on the newcomer and immediately lit up. "Ah, Samantha! It's been a long time."

"Wynne!" Samantha broke into a warm smile and stepped forward to give the older woman a hug.

Alistair watched in surprised. "You two know each other?"

The good doctor chuckled. "I have known her since before she was born. I was on the ship with the then-Commander Eleanor Cousland when she was pregnant with Sam. She was serving her last tour testing our latest battleship before her maternal leave. We were out on the Amaranthine sea when little Sam couldn't wait to come out and play, a few weeks before scheduled. So I delivered her when we couldn't make it back to the nearest port in time."

Samantha smiled fondly at the doctor. "I see you still remember that tale after twenty seven years."

Wynne feigned a stern look at the young woman. "I'm not that old yet, young lady." Her stern face quickly melted into a smile. "You were the only one I've ever delivered on a ship. The entire crew broke into the loudest cheer when they heard your cries through the intercoms all over the ship."

Alistair grinned at the tale. "So, you were quite literally born in the military?"

"Yes. Literally and figuratively. All Couslands have served." A smile still lingered on her lips.

"If you are here, Sam, it means..." Wynne trailed off.

"I am to meet with Captain Duncan at 1800 hour," said Samantha quickly. It was a plain fact, she did not want to speculate any further.

The doctor shot a questioning glance at the young man, but Alistair could only provide a helpless shrug. "Does Bryce or Eleanor know you are here?" asked the doctor.

"I sent them an email while I was on the shuttle, telling them I'll be on the Griffon for at least a week."

"A week, hm... It's good to have you here, Sam. Maybe now Alistair could find someone else to bother when he is not out on a mission." Wynne sent a mock stern glance at the young man, who shrugged all too innocently at the accusation.

"Right... Let me show you the engine room below." Alistair dragged Samantha away by her arm, leaving before the good doctor could embarrass him further. "Wait til you see our shuttle. It's not your normal military shuttlecraft. Oh, and our Mako."

"Mako?"

"It's our infantry fighting vehicle. Its armor is tough enough to withstand extreme heat and cold," Alistair explained with his eyes lit up like a child bragging about his favorite toy.

Samantha shot an eyebrow at his enthusiasm and followed him for the rest of the tour. He reminded her of a puppy her nephew had. But she knew better than to underestimate the enemies – or in this case, the ally. By making it into the elite group, there had to be something more to this young commander than meet the eyes. Perhaps, she would soon find out.

"You are going to show me your guns later, right?" he asked again when they were in the elevator heading down.

Warm hazel eyes once again glanced at her expectantly. Somehow, he seemed more and more like a puppy, especially with the look he was giving her. She might regret this later, but how was one supposed to deny a puppy short of kicking it? "I am," said Samantha, meeting his gaze. She paused momentarily, then added in a light tone, "And you are going to show me yours?"

Puppy look dissipated in the blink of an eye, replaced by a sly grin. "Oh, just try to stop me..."

Samantha shook her head and turned away, hiding a smile.

Men and their toys.