PART I.

Hannah's entire body felt as if it were frozen in shock; she could feel the small wispy hairs on her neck standing tall; could hear the soft thud of blood rushing in her ears. Her heart felt as if it might beat right out of her chest. The sensation pricked at the back of her throat, causing sharp but dull pain with each agonising second that passed by.

The marine that stood opposite her looked unimpressed. Her arms were folded, hip cocked, and a frown on her lips that did nothing to disarm her hostile stance. Hannah's eyes darted around her, eager to look at anything but the mousy brown hair and intense green eyes in front of her. The marine had her cornered in the mess hall; the room was all grey metal and cold air. There was no escaping the confrontation in this tin can. Hannah knew she had taken too long to deny the allegation put upon her, and the brunette woman in front of her would call her on her bullshit if she didn't respond soon. Fight or flight instincts kicked in, and Hannah had to engage or she'd look every inch the guilty coward that she was. "I'm sorry," she began, hoping her shocked and shaky tone would translate as confusion, rather than the guilt it actually masked. "What did you just say?"

"You," the marine said accusingly, unfolding her arms and jabbing a finger into Hannah's chest. "And the Commander. I know what's going on."

Oh shit, Hannah thought to herself. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but it still felt tight and dry. She was cornered. In combat situations, when it came to the confrontation Hannah was a force to be reckoned with. She was calm, she was collected, and she was damn good with an assault rifle. It was those very traits that had elevated her to the rank of Lieutenant, and had gotten her her most recent assignment serving aboard the SSV Mercury. This battle, however, was different. This was personal. And she couldn't use her assault rifle if this particular situation got out of hand. That would definitely be illegal, Hannah.

Admittedly, she had never read the entire regulation handbook when she had first enlisted almost seven years ago. She assumed she would never need to know the guidelines for roughly 90% of the contingencies the tome covered. She was under no illusions however; she knew that sleeping with crew members was -at the very least- frowned upon. Sleeping with your Commanding Officer? Definitely frowned upon. And as far as sleeping with your married Commanding Officer? Most definitely frowned upon.

Hannah had to resist the urge to smack herself in the face. How had she allowed herself to become embroiled in this kind of situation? She was an intelligent woman; she had an pristine record and was rising steadily within the military ranks. She was also pretty decent looking, in her own opinion - so why had she become involved with the Commander of the goddamn ship she was serving on? She could've found a multitude of other men out there, each more deserving of her attention. But the Commander was cute. And smart. And funny. And he did that thing with-

"You're not even going to deny it?"

Hannah shook her head, and faced the marine once more with clenched fists. She frowned in frustration, and searched the shadows of the ship helplessly. Then her features hardened, she set her jaw and turned back to regard the younger marine in front of her. "Of course I'm going to deny it, Claire. You honestly think I'm that kind of person? To sleep my way up the chain of command?"

Claire visibly backed away, and opened her mouth in shock. Was she honestly expecting Hannah to drop to her knees and confess? She didn't know the Lieutenant very well if that was the case. Hannah Shepard didn't back away from anything. Even if she was lying through her teeth. If she gave in to Claire now, she'd more than likely be demoted. The Commander would also be demoted, if not discharged; his wife would divorce him. Their ranks, reputations, and personal lives would lie in ruins; and then the Earth would spin off its axis and straight into the Charon relay. Well, maybe not - but it would definitely be a right mess for everyone involved. Hannah chewed nervously on her lip, but some small movement behind Claire caught her attention. Or rather, someone behind Claire. She tipped her head to get a clearer view of the officer across the mess. "Matthews," she said suddenly, and in a tone all too high to be coming from such a small woman.

"Excuse me?"

"Matthews," Hannah repeated to the younger marine. "Matthews is retiring as Marine Officer soon." Claire shook her head incredulously. "I'm taking over the position when he retires. The Commander has been talking me through the responsibilities of the role."

"At 6am?"

"He's the Commanding Officer of this vessel, do you think he sleeps in till noon?" That part -at least- was not a lie. It was practically his job to be an early riser. Hannah hoped that Claire had been thoroughly convinced - she didn't know what else she could say to assure the woman that her relationship with the Commander was strictly above board. If she wasn't convinced - and so much as mentioned it to another crew member, if even one person began to ask questions - it wouldn't be long before Hannah and her lover were called in front of an ethics council.

Hannah knew she had to speak to the Commander before this got out of control. They were risking too much as it was, and Hannah already felt sick with worry. "If that's all Chief, I have to get back to my duties." Hannah didn't even wait for an acknowledgment from Claire before she turned on her heel and headed towards the CIC.

"Commander Hackett," Hannah called as she approached the galaxy map. The Commander nodded briefly to acknowledge her approach, and took a datapad from a nearby marine. He studied it carefully, and ran a hand along his stubbled chin. Hannah really couldn't blame herself for falling for the man; his dark hair and rugged features made him the perfect poster boy for the Alliance. Although that was probably down to his impeccable service record, rather than his good looks. She may have been biased. And that lip scar; Hannah melted everytime she got the opportunity to examine it close up. Hackett had told her once how he had received the scar; it was during a training exercise in Brazil. The higher level certification programs could be brutal. Hannah knew that from personal experience. Everyone and their grandmother wanted the best postings, on the best Alliance vessels. But in order to acquire the best assignments, you had to prove you were the best marine for the job; even if that meant slicing your sparring partner's face clean open during a warmup session.

Hannah could almost imagine a stern, young Steven Hackett casually wiping the blood from his face, standing to his full height and carrying on with his training. He'd never change, she supposed; always far too preoccupied with doing his duty. Except -it seemed- when it came to her.

He was friendly with his crew, naturally, but their connection was special. She knew that long before they had become intimate. Nagging jealousy often pushed her into wondering if he had the same connection with his wife, back home in Argentina, but Hannah repressed it each and every time the thought surfaced. What she and Steven were doing was not just illegal, it was also immoral and unfair. When Claire had cornered her, Hannah realised just how unfair their relationship actually was. Their careers and reputations were not the only thing on the line - people could get hurt.

"Commander, may I have a word with you - when you have a moment?" she asked, her tone professional.

"Comm-room in ten, Lieutenant." He didn't look up from his datapad, but Hannah saluted nonetheless. She headed towards the nearby communications centre, feelingt nauseous - the impending conversation already playing out wildly in her mind. She knew that what she was about to say was for the best, but it didn't make it any easier. She needed to end whatever was between them before anyone got hurt, and before anyone was discharged.

'Okay Han, you can do this.' She exhaled quickly, hoping to settle her nerves and her stomach. Words weren't her strong point at the best of times, and she certainly hadn't planned the conversation she was about to have with Hackett. Claire had forced her hand when she ambushed her that morning. And all before she even had a chance to grab a cup of coffee; Hannah wasn't nearly operating at her maximum potential. For once in her life, she was stumped. She had no idea what she wanted to say to Hackett when he arrived. She knew what she needed to say on a basic level, of course; but how to frame that one bullet point was another question entirely. The relationship between her and Steven had ran its course. It shouldn't have began in the first place, she realized that now - but there was no point crying over spilled milk. What's done - was done. There were no two ways about it. If Claire really did take her allegations further, it could hurt a lot of people, least of all Hannah and her lover. If they truly cared about one another, they had to let go and end whatever was between them.

Hackett appeared through the automated doors shortly after, looking serious and pensive. He had a long, decorated history within the military, and so he had an uncanny ability to sense when something was afoot. It was a gift really, something that ensured his impeccable military record stayed impeccable. "Something's wrong, what is it?" he asked with the gravelly tone he was known for. The Commander hailed from Argentina, but the accent was strangely North American. Likely from spending most of his life on military bases and aboard starships.

Finding her own lack of words disconcerting, Hannah thought it best to confront the situation dead on. Spending time thinking of phrasing and word framing wouldn't help the matter at hand, and Steven wouldn't appreciate it. He was as direct as she when it came to such matters. "Chief Watson knows about our… relationship."

Hackett raised a single eyebrow, but other than that he seemed passive as ever. "What did she say?" he asked calmly, stepping further into the comm-room. As he examined the communications console, Hannah quickly realized she hadn't checked the device to ensure it was deactivated. Shit, she thought bitterly, praying to every deity she remembered from high school, that she hadn't just exposed their affair herself, to all personnel onboard the Mercury. Steven turned around after a moment, and simply watched her, awaiting a response. She sighed in relief when he didn't mention the console he was leaning against.

"She said that she knew about our affair. She didn't give me any specifics."

"Did you deny it?"

"Of course I denied it," Hannah snapped. She knew he was only trying to get a feel for the situation, but the accusation still stung. "I told her we'd been working early. I think she believed me, but I can't be sure. She didn't say anymore afterwards."

"We'll have to be more careful," was the Commander's only response. His voice was low, and he didn't seem to want to offer any more advice. He moved away from the console and towards her. One hand grasped her elbow softly, and she had to resist staring into his blue eyes like she had too many times already. "It's going to be fine, Hannah." It would be so easy to believe his words; to live in ignorant bliss and continue their relationship until the next time they were too reckless with their glances or touches or secret meetings. But that was too dangerous now, and Hannah did not like dangerous.

"No it won't," she replied, removing herself from his embrace. She had to put as much distance between them as possible. Hannah met his gaze, and steeled herself for the impact of her own words. "We can't do this anymore Steven, it's too risky."

Hackett said nothing in reply. He simply returned her gaze, lips slightly parted where he was obviously trying to find his own voice. Hannah watched him for what felt like an eternity. She watched him as he tried to strategize and plan a way through this situation. Almost as if- as if he didn't want their relationship to end. She almost laughed at that nonsensical idea. What had she expected; that he was in love with her? That Steven would leave his wife for her? That they'd elope, marry on some beach in Buenos Aires, have blue-eyed babies, and sail the cosmos together for the rest of their lives? It was nothing more than a fantasy. Steven already had a loving wife at home; he didn't need another, she reminded herself with a bitter pang of jealousy.

Hannah release the shaky breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. It did nothing to ease the knot in her stomach - boy, it had just not been her day. Steven was still looking at her, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open. Had she really shocked him that much? Hannah hated how hard the man was to read; it had taken her months to realize he was actually flirting with her when she had been assigned to the SSV Mercury under his command six months ago. And just as she had then, Hannah awaited his response with her heart in her throat and her own fists clenched painfully.

"If that's what you want-"

"It is," she added quickly, tears had started to prick at the corner of her eyes but she had to see this through without appearing weak in front of him. "And when we dock in San Diego next week I want you to add my name to the list of outgoing personnel."

"You want to be reassigned?" he asked as quickly as she had finished her sentence, seemingly dismayed by her request. Steven moved close to her and a palm flew out in disbelief.

"It's in everyone's best interests, Commander."

The use of his rank in a personal conversation must have stung, because his eyes widened a fraction. He sighed, his hand now brushing passed his temples, and into his dark locks. Hackett was quiet for so long afterwards, simply staring at the floor and chewing on his lower lip. An unconscious habit; his 'thinking stance' as Hannah has affectionately dubbed it. Fuck, Hannah, she scolded herself, as if sheer force of will could stop her from remembering all their intimate moments together. She took a deep breath, praying that Steven would dismiss her before the burning at the back of her eyes gave way to the tears that had gathered there. The crew of the Mercury had become a second family to her, and Steven a great friend. She was going to miss them.

"Alright," he offered eventually. Hannah didn't think she had seen such utter disappointment in his eyes before. "I'll start the paperwork today. Dismissed, Lieutenant Shepard."

Hannah saluted -only halfheartedly- before escaping from the room as fast as her legs could carry her. She really thought she was going to be sick.

TO BE CONTINUED.