You mean everything to me. You are the sun that rises for me in the morning. The stars that guide me at night. Without you, I feel alone, incomplete. – Suzanne E. Lang (Smuggled [Mercenary #1])
Kaffe – equatorial Thessian vine, the seeds of which are used to produce a non-alcoholic beverage of the same
· · · · · · name, the taste described as a mix of coffee and chocolate. (Thessian/Source: CDN)
• ABANDONED MACHINERY WAREHOUSE · ABBOTSFORD, BC •
After my visit with General Park at the Northwest Headquarters of the Systems Alliance: Terra, I had taken advantage of the increasing post-sunset darkness to fly to the non-descript warehouse where Jonathan Dokken and his team had taken captured assassin Savina Delarosa for safekeeping. There was ample space nearby in which to set the UT-47 down, and the lack of nearby residences or yard lights was a definite advantage.
Coming in low from the west along the Canadian/U.S. international border, I turned and flew northwards over the Abbotsford Airport—deserted since the beginning of the Reaper War—and cringed inside a bit when the ventral thrusters kicked up a large cloud of dirt and debris as I gently touched down beside the building. Leaving the core on standby, Ori and I left our craft and started walking towards a dimly-lit side entrance. I paused long enough to glance at the western sky; what I could see of it was slowly becoming obscured by heavy clouds, promising rain in eighteen hours or less.
I returned to walking, catching up with Ori as she reached the door, where we were met by Dokken and his lieutenant. I had spoken with Jonathan over a secure comms channel while en route; having sent a file with a photo of myself, he recognized me when I approached.
Without preamble, he said, "Inside, quickly." Once within the dark confines of the nearly empty concrete shell, we were introduced to his companion, a tall, muscular woman with a ready smile. She offered her hand. "Irmina DiCaprio, but please, call me Mina," she said in a lightly accented voice. "Pleasure to meet you."
With Dokken on our six, DiCaprio led us to what was unmistakably the abandoned warehouse's administration complex. Once inside a former conference room, I nodded to Ori; she immediately employed her newly acquired omnitool to sweep the room for listening and/or recording devices. In less than a minute, she lowered her arm and nodded in my direction.
Dokken and I exchanged introductions; if he or Irmina DiCaprio was surprised to meet two of the top agents working for the Shadow Broker, neither showed it. We sat down together at a small, rickety folding table—something that might be used for a game of Quasar—as Mina placed a small tray on its surface and indicated we should help ourselves to coffee or tea; I poured a mug each for Ori and myself, then sighed with satisfaction as I sipped the aromatic beverage.
"I know you're here to speak with Savina Delarosa, Ms Traynor, but you mentioned a new assignment for my team during our earlier conversation."
I reached into a thigh pocket; bringing forth an OSD, I placed it on the table and used a fingertip to slide it across to rest in front of him as I replied, "Mission parameters are on this device. As soon as we've dealt with Ms Delarosa, you and your team are to make your way to the Citadel. The Broker has promised a human team to provide physical backup for Spectre Samantha Shepard in a … sensitive matter … a matter that must be kept between us."
Jonathan looked at Irmina and chuckled slightly as he picked up the OSD from the table. Handing the small container to his lieutenant, he cocked his head and looked at me. "Operating quietly is second nature for my team, Ms Traynor, but I have to wonder … why would the Shadow Broker assign my team to assist a Council Spectre? Shouldn't the Council provide any needed assistance?"
"If this were an official, Council authorized Op, the answer would be affirmative, but in this case, Spectre Shepard will be acting solely on data provided by the Broker, some of which is on that OSD. As a matter of courtesy, she will inform the asari councilor and the human councilor prior to the operation, but the full council will only be involved after its successful completion." I took a sip from my mug as the man contemplated my explanation.
There was a silent exchange of looks between Jonathan and Irmina. After a few moments, the man cast a wary gaze at me. "I've been involved with only a few Spectres during my career … most of them turned out to be less than trustworthy; that said, I have heard of Shepard. She left the Systems Alliance Navy and moved to Thessia, seemingly to retire and live quietly with an asari. Is she still as sharp as? …"
The man's doubts about Shepard raised my hackles instantly. "You didn't serve with the woman as I did, so I'll give you a pass, Mr Dokken, but I need you to understand! Rachaél Shepard is still a force to be reckoned with. She'd only have to ask, and I would guard her six while running into hell right beside her. Never doubt for a moment her skills as a tactician, warrior and trained biotic."
Dokken held his hands up, palms facing me. "My apologies, Ms Traynor. I shouldn't doubt your faith in the Spectre's abilities, nor your choice to have my team back her play, whatever it is."
Mina nodded in agreement with Dokken. After a few moments of silence, I sighed and stood up. "I'd like to meet with Ms Delarosa. While I'm with her, take a look at the data on that OSD. Once you know what the operation entails, I expect you'll enjoy it – it's a fairly low risk task. We can go over any questions or concerns you may have after I conclude my meeting with our assassin."
Dokken stood in tandem with me and Ori, replying, "Certainly, Ms Traynor. I'll have Henri escort you to our guest quarters." That he said this with no trace of snarkiness was not what I expected. Mina opened the door and beckoned to a shadowy figure standing outside, introducing us in a quiet voice. "Ms Traynor … Ms Lawson … this is Henri Järvelä. Henri, these women are agents for the Shadow Broker. They're here for a visit with our guest."
Järvelä solemnly shook hands with each of us, then turned with a quiet, "Follow me, please."
I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed under my chest as the door was closed and locked behind us. Delarosa had stood from her chair when we entered, and now remained standing as she warily sized up each of us. I expected she was looking for an opening – some way in which to take advantage of us in order to escape the confines of her impromptu prison.
When she finally spoke, it was to calmly ask, "Are you here to kill me?"
"Quite the contrary. Name is Traynor … this is Lawson. We're agents working on behalf of the Shadow Broker, Ms Delarosa. We're here to make you an offer."
There was no change in her expression. Pale, bluish-grey eyes flicked between Ori and myself as she waited for me to explain. I remained silent for a number of seconds before continuing. "The Broker believes someone with your skills could prove to be an asset. He sent us to negotiate a deal … an arrangement … that will benefit both you and the Shadow Broker."
"He's wasting his time, Traynor … yours as well. I'm independent. I've never been one for having to clock in to a damned regular job every day, working for some mindless, soulless corporation. That's not living." She sat back down—flopped, actually—in her chair. "I am quite tired of this place, Traynor. How long do you intend to keep me locked up. I haven't done anything illegal, since I was prevented from completing my contract"
"Ah, but there's where you're wrong. Accepting a contract to murder someone in Council space, whether a lowly citizen or a high-ranking Alliance Marine, is conspiracy to commit, Ms Delarosa. In point of fact, the person that engaged your services is every bit as guilty, and will be dealt with in due course. You flew halfway across the damned galaxy to accept this job, and were in the process of setting up your rifle when Mr Dokken's team apprehended you."
"I didn't kill …" she started, then fell silent. She closed her eyes for several seconds, then reopened them to focus on me. "I don't suppose simply letting me go is an option," she said half-hopefully.
"Afraid not. You'll be leaving here with Ori and me. Whether you walk out of here hobbled in chains … or not … is entirely up to you. Convince us you can be trusted to do as we tell you without any arguments, we may allow you to retain a bit of your dignity. Otherwise, you'll be making the one-way trip to Omega Station promised by the Broker."
All the color drained from her face at the reminder of the Broker's promise to place her under Aria T'Loak's benevolent control as a batarian sex toy. She stammered, "I managed to convince myself that was an empty threat. You're a woman! You could do that to another woman!? … a human sister? … even with the knowledge of how much pleasure batarians derive from torturing humans, particularly females?"
"I have no choice in this matter, Ms Delarosa … it's your call. Join the Broker as an in-house wet work specialist performing a few assignments a year, or live out your days pleasuring batarians."
Almost think prison would be a better option, came the thought, which she wisely kept to herself. With a defeated sigh, she asked, "Does anyone ever get free of the Broker? … alive, that is?"
"It's a rather unique organization. Leaving us is always an option, but your memory will be selectively wiped by an asari specialist. When you're released, you'll be unable to recall any of the time spent employed by the Broker; any attempt to recall those memories will only cause intense headaches. It's not pleasant, but we cannot risk having our organization compromised."
I took the few steps needed to close the distance between us; I crouched beside her chair and quietly said, "Accept the position, Savina. Any future contracts will be assigned by one or two individuals on behalf of the Broker. All requirements for successful completion of your assignments will be provided, and all of your needs will be met during your down times."
She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly together in her lap. "Why do this, Traynor? You could simply kill me and be done with it. Simpler for you. Simpler for the Broker." She looked up at me again, staring into my eyes with a pleading expression on her pale face.
"Savina, the Broker told me he would sooner shatter a priceless stained glass window as eliminate you. He believes you to be an artist with a rifle."
A slight smirk colored her expression. "I'm a painter without a brush. Will you return my rifle?"
I grinned at her. "Will you accept the Broker's offer?"
"The Broker wants to retain me for possible jobs in the future? To be truthful, I'm actually intrigued. Does he know how much I'm paid for successfully completing my missions?"
"Creds are not an obstacle, Savina. You complete an assigned task without getting identified or captured, you will be compensated as generously as if you were still an independent contractor."
"When can I have my rifle back?"
"When we've reached our destination." I paused, then added, "You'll need to make the trip in stasis, I'm afraid. The location of the Broker's headquarters is something many would kill to discover."
This surprised her. "Can't your ships be tracked? You have to use the relays, right?"
"We have our ways. I'll take good care of you, Savina. What do you say? Ready to leave?"
"Batarian sex toy, or Broker wet work specialist. It appears I really have no choice."
I stood and turned towards the door. As I nodded to Ori to get the door opened, Savina abruptly sprang from her chair and plunged a short dagger in the back of my right thigh, above and just behind the edge of my cuisse and right below my butt cheek. The shock and sudden pain from the blow staggered me for a moment, giving the wily assassin an opportunity to leap past me.
With a muffled curse, I sent a mental command to my omnitool and used my left leg to jump after her. Using every bit of the strength in my right arm, shoulder and back, I slammed the flash-forged omniblade into Savina's back up to its pivot point, lifting her bodily from the floor with the force of my strike. She cried out in agony, arching her back in reaction to the white-hot ceramic blade shoved through her ribcage; I jerked my forearm up and away in order to break the blade off at its pivot point, leaving the assassin to drop to the floor, rolling up on her right side as she fell.
Looking up at me, her face twisted in hateful fury as she gasped for breath. The ceramic blade had gone completely through her body—the tip protruding from her chest—piercing her left lung and possibly slicing her heart; the nerve agent coating the blade's surface acted quickly, paralyzing her diaphragm as it slowed, then stopped her heart. A pair of beautiful, blueish-grey eyes slowly glazed over as the light within dimmed and faded with her death.
Oriana had summoned help from outside the room; I fell to my knees and leaned on my left hand as I attempted to grip the hilt of the knife in my leg. Jonathan and Irmina rushed into the room. He muttered, "Shit, Traynor! That shouldn't have happened!" as Mina helped ease me down to lay on the floor beside the dead assassin.
"Ya think!?" I ground out. "My under-armor mesh should have turned that blade," I added, my voice hitching in pain with every other word. I groaned in reaction to the slight movements of the blade piercing my leg as Ori and Mina set about to remove my pants. "Just slice the damn pant leg, Ori. My armor is underneath." I heard the metallic snick of her folding boot knife as she activated the spring-loaded blade and locked it into place; with a few carefully applied strokes, she sliced my pant leg from my hip to my waist and then down to the cuff at my ankle.
As Mina unfastened the latches and fasteners holding my cuisse in place, Ori looked at her accusingly. She actually growled, saying, "It would appear you failed to strip search that woman," as she sliced my custom-fitted under-armor pants leg from knee to waistband.
I felt sudden coolness on my thigh as she carefully pulled the blood-soaked fabric away from my skin. "How bad?" I managed to croak past an increasingly parched throat.
"You need a doctor, Sammy. If I pull this blade out, I'm afraid you might bleed to death." The worried expression on Lawson's face told me all I needed to know.
"I'm a field medic." I hadn't noticed Henri Järvelä enter the room. He quickly took charge. "Let's carry her into the main reception area – there's a long counter inside on which I can treat her. Mina, get my backpack … I have an emergency medical kit inside." The man gently placed a hand on my cheek and smiled ever so slightly. "Trust me, Ms Traynor. I'll get that blade out and stitch you back together. Try to relax."
I grimaced. "Says the man … tha' doesn't havva … bloody knife stuck in his leg."
The smile widened to a grin. "At least she didn't stab you in the torso … hit something vital."
That was the last thing I remember before losing consciousness.
I awoke to a soft hand gently cradling my face and a woman's voice quietly saying my name. Easing my eyes open, my breath caught in reaction to a sudden, dull stab of pain at the back of my upper thigh, even as I looked into a pair of concerned, violet-blue eyes hovering quite near my face. "Ori?" I groaned.
"Ah, Sammy … excellent! You're finally awake." I started to ask how long I'd been out when the perceptive woman placed two fingers vertically across my lips. "Quiet. Let me explain. It's only been a few hours, Sammy. Henri extracted Savina's blade, used a tissue regenerator to repair your sliced muscles—I believe he said biceps femoris and gluteus maximus, but don't quote me—and a dermal regenerator to close and begin healing the sliced skin. The medigel he applied should be mitigating any residual pain."
I pursed my lips against her fingers and watched with amusement as she quickly withdrew her hand. Shaking my head slightly, I observed, "So, what you're saying is, I got stabbed in the ass?"
"Well, yes … since you put it that way … you kinda did," she grinned cheekily. "The blade caught the lower edge of the muscle, right at that fold in your skin. It mostly went in the top of the thigh muscle … the biceps femoris." She actually giggled. "You have a really cute ass, Sammy … and not a gram of fat anywhere on it. Henri said you might want to ease off on your lower body exercises for a week or two so it has time to properly heal." Her grin disappeared as she added, "Looks like Savina was trying to simply incapacitate you long enough to escape. I seriously doubt she realized just how tough you are."
"What the 'ell kinda blade did she use, Ori? The mesh I was wearing should have turned it."
She held the still bloody blade up for me to see. "Henri and Jon seem to think it's a monomolecular blade. I found the sheath still clipped to her bra." I looked at the short, easily concealed knife. It had a tee-shaped handle with an abbreviated, rounded shank meant to go between two fingers. The black, double-edged blade was triangular in shape—nearly as wide as it was long—and appeared to have been forged from some sort of super-dense carbon.
I sighed in exasperation. "Did Mr Dokken offer any plausible excuse for not having her strip-searched when she was captured? I mean, it wasn't as if they didn't have a woman to do the job! Sonuvabitch! Were they concerned she'd die of embarrassment at showing her tits … or her ass?"
Ori looked apologetic, even though none of this was her fault. "It's not something I would think to have done, Sammy, but Dokken's team are professionals … or they're supposed to be. The entire team feels really bad. They're embarrassed this happened, especially to an agent that represents the Broker." Her facial expression became a mirror of some of Miranda's angrier looks. "I told them it was an unforgivable error in judgement … one that must never happen again, and I informed them to expect their compensation for this assignment to be penalized … significantly."
I thought, Damn, Ori! I really believe you'll do alright as Griff's new partner! I used my arms to lever my torso up from the low cot where I'd been lying on my left side; Oriana helped me swing my legs around so I could place my feet on the floor. I noticed for the first time since reawakening that my legs and feet were bare. "Where are my pants?"
Ori moved to a nearby chair and picked up a folded pair of civilian SDU pants. "I dug through the stuff in your pack and found these." Bringing them over, she knelt in front of me and helped me place my feet through the legs, then stood to help me up; pulling the pants up to my waist as she rose, she took special care to ease the material past the dressing on the back of my thigh. "We'll have to obtain a replacement pair of under-armor pants once we're back on the station."
It was plain to see she was self-conscious about being in such close physical proximity to me. "Ori, relax. I don't bite." I grabbed her hands and offered her a genuine smile. "You should never feel uncomfortable at offering assistance to me, or anyone. I appreciate you taking such good care of me while I was out." I released her hands, saying, "Now, where are my boots and socks? Since Savina Delarosa is dead, we can leave, after I have a brief conversation with Jonathan Dokken. And I'm taking her damned rifle with me."
Dokken met us in the short passageway as I limped my way back to the meeting room. "Ms Traynor … I am so sorry you were attacked by our prisoner! It was my responsibility to have her properly searched for concealed weapons. I let you down … I let the Shadow Broker down. Please … in your report? … inform him that, should he choose to make use our services in the future, such an error in judgement will not be repeated."
"About that – did you look over the data on the OSD I gave you?"
He nodded. "Looks straight forward enough. We can leave for the Citadel shortly after your departure … that is, if the Broker still wishes to employ us. There's no reason to hang around, since you took care of Delarosa."
"Why would he not wish to employ your team, Mr Dokken? I have not reported back to him … yet." I paused, then added, "I do need to get back to work, though … bring her rifle to me, along with any other equipment you confiscated, and I'll leave dealing with her body up to you. My advice? Air lock her in the sun's gravity well on your way out of the system."
He nodded towards Mina, who had been hovering at the edges of our short conversation; she quietly vanished. Jonathan allowed a tiny smirk to color his expression as he remarked, "So much for the Broker's desire to avoid terminating Ms Delarosa's life, eh?"
I smiled back grimly without commenting as Mina reappeared, carrying a loaded shoulder bag and a heavy looking, hard-sided black case, which she placed on the floor in front of me. "Rifle and sniper scope are in here." With a touch of envy in her voice, she commented, "Scope is the reason that rifle is accurate out to 2100, 2200 meters or so."
"You looked at it?" I asked.
"When we captured her. Before I disassembled the rifle to put it back in the case, I checked her view through the scope. Damn thing is a low-light capable binocular viewfinder, coupled to servos controlled by an internal processor. Once it has been locked onto a target, it minutely compensates for any movements, either by the target or the shooter, and the special rounds it fires virtually guarantee one-shot kills, each and every time. It really is an awesome piece of equipment."
"Hmm … sounds like something created for use by Alliance Marine snipers," I mused aloud. "No matter. It belongs to the Broker now. Thank you for keeping it secure." I held out my hand to each of them, then clasped Henri Järvelä's hand as he joined us. "And thanks for taking such good care of my backside, Henri," I grinned as I returned my attention to Dokken. "I'll be remotely following your team's mission with Spectre Shepard. Good luck."
I picked up the case—damned thing was heavier than it looked—as Ori grabbed Delarosa's pack; we exited the building the same way we'd entered the day before. The promised cold front had arrived a few hours ago; the clouds were now depositing a cool, misty rain that effortlessly drenched everything it touched. We hustled to load everything aboard the shuttle, then lifted off for home.
• PAX SYSTEM, AT LARGE · HORSEHEAD NEBULA •
Standing beside the pilot's chair with most of my weight on my left leg, I leaned on the backrest of my navigator's chair and looked over the shoulder of my companion. Oriana, monitoring our trajectory from the Mass Relay at the edge of the system, had entered a course for the Strenuus System – and our home. Even though we had been running dark while navigating the three-relay jump from Sol, she continued to scan the path behind us for any evidence we were being followed.
Finally satisfied that we remained unnoticed, and that the VI was properly performing its task, Ori rotated her chair around in order to face me. "It appears as if your injury is bothering you."
With a slight grimace, I responded, "That obvious, huh? Yeah, there's some soreness, especially if I sit too long. These pilot chairs are comfortable, but the injured muscles are still a bit tender." I shook my head in embarrassment. "Xiùlán would hand my injured ass to me for not being more vigilant around that killer." With a tired sigh, I added ruefully, "Since the end of the war, I've allowed complacency to creep into my routine. Just one more thing I need to change."
"You couldn't have anticipated Delarosa having a push-knife, Sammy. We expected Dokken's team to have completely searched her … they should have relieved her of any potential surprises."
She ducked her head. After appearing to study her hands, tightly clasped together in her lap, she continued, "Other than Henry Lawson, I've never been that close to someone being violently killed before," she whispered. "If Delarosa had managed to grab me, I have no doubt she'd have used me as a disposable bargaining chip in her bid for freedom. Your quick thinking probably saved my life." She looked back up at me. "But there's something else on your mind, isn't there. Care to share?"
I deliberated for a moment. Deciding to tell Oriana what I planned to do, I moved around the copilot's chair and eased myself into its comfortable embrace. After rotating it so I could face Ori, I leaned forward and grasped both her hands. "As soon as we're back on the station, I plan on moving all my possessions into Iringù-Eßizkur, Ori. I'm leaving my position in the Brokerage behind … leaving you and Griff behind … permanently."
Her happy expression faded as I spoke to her. "Sammy … I don't know what to say. Why? Are you sure? It seems so sudden. What will you do? Where will you go?"
"To answer your first two questions, yes, I'm sure, Ori, even though it's not something I'm willingly choosing to do. Apparently, associating with one of the worst criminals in the galaxy is not looked upon with any amusement by the Systems Alliance. Xiùlán gave me an ultimatum when I met with her last time I was on the Citadel. Worst day of my life since … well, my freshman year in college."
Squeezing my hands, she said, "Oh, Sammy, I am so sorry." After several moments, she added, "This must be the reason you didn't want Miranda talking to me about my position with the Broker."
I released her hands, leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. "Becoming the Shadow Broker was the best thing that ever happened to me … and Buchanan. The Alliance Navy was not always my friend, Ori … hell, when Xiùlán became an officer, our relationship violated rules against fraternization, even though nothing was ever said to either of us. I thought that resigning from the Navy would allow me to do as I wished … to be able to continue my relationship with Xiùlán—maybe even marry her someday—and to make a living doing what I enjoyed, without interference from a bunch of barmy old bastards that haven't a clue about real life."
I massaged my temples with my fingertips for a few moments before continuing. "As for Griff, his physical injuries during the war weren't completely fixed, and I don't think the Alliance tried very hard to do so. We were all disposable … even those of us with a high degree of training. They did try to find positions for him post-war, but he's never been comfortable flying a desk … at least, not until I found him. Turns out, he's really quite good at doing research."
"Is Griff aware of your intentions, Sammy?"
"It's the main reason we confided in you concerning our true identities. He's already aware I need to leave it behind. My love for Xiùlán … and her love for me … absolutely demands it. So, I want you to take my place, Oriana. You and Chinami are more than capable of doing my job." I opened my eyes and focused on her face. "After I'm gone, I hope Griff can get used to working more closely with Chinami, and with you … especially with you."
She looked puzzled. "Why would Griff have any problems working with me?"
I used a thumb and forefinger to pinch the inside corners of my eyes as I pondered how best to answer her question. I dropped my hand and looked straight at her. "Ori, believe me when I say that you are a beautiful woman … stunningly so! And, you're … well, you're not me." I smirked slightly as her puzzled expression deepened. "I believe Griff truly thinks of me as his adopted sister. That's why he has no problem working elbow-to-elbow with me."
I thought I saw the realization hit her as she interrupted to state, "You're in a serious, committed relationship with Captain Yuán. Is that why you're planning to leave us?"
"She's the only reason I'm leaving. But, what if I wasn't involved with Xiùlán?" After a few moments, I added, "I'm a woman, Ori, in a serious relationship with another woman. If I wasn't in love with Xiùlán, I'd still be who I am. I'm not attracted to men … never have been." Her mouth formed a silent 'O' for a moment as I concluded, "And I think I did mention that Buchanan is just a bit besotted with you, didn't I?"
She sat back in her chair in apparent shock. "I hadn't even thought about your relationship preferences, Sammy! You think things will be difficult for me and Griff? I'm not looking for a companion. Griff is very nice, and always a gentleman. I just … I've just never thought of him in that way!" She giggled, the sound of her amusement music to my ears.
I shrugged my shoulders with my reply. "Buchanan is loyal, and fiercely protective of his friends and coworkers – always has been, but as long as I've known him he's never been in a relationship. I'd actually be surprised if he didn't hit on you in the near future, whether I'm still on the station or not."
She turned her attention back to the virtual viewport in front of the instrument panel. With a heavy sigh, she breathed, "Any advice on how to handle it without hurting his feelings?"
"That's easy. He respects you, so just be completely honest with him … don't beat around the bush, so to speak. I think relationships between people can be difficult, and ultimately, you have to remain true to yourself. Griff will respect your decisions, whichever way you choose to go."
We finished the remainder of the trip to Ahn'Kahar Station in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts.
• AHN'KAHAR STATION, STRENUUS SYSTEM · HORSEHEAD NEBULA •
Buchanan was waiting for us just inside the hanger bay personnel entrance as Oriana skillfully brought the UT-47 inside, spun it about on its axis and set it down on the deck. By the time we had powered down all the systems and opened the hatch, he was standing just outside. "Welcome home, Sammy. You too, Ori. It's good to have both of you safely back onboard."
I grinned at him as I stepped down onto the cold steel plates. I immediately realized my mistake as I nearly fell on my face; as always, I had unthinkingly led with my right leg, and the still healing muscles at the top of my thigh reacted by sending a sharp stab of pain down the back of my leg.
Griff's response was lightning fast; he had his arms around me, arresting my fall, before I could even stumble forward. I chuckled as I quickly wrapped my arms around his massive torso. "Damn! It's good to see you too!" He quickly pushed back just enough for me to look up into caring, greenish-gray eyes. "Thanks, big guy. Leg is still healing."
Releasing me, he turned and leaned down to grab my pack, then turned towards Oriana, who was carrying Delarosa's rifle and equipment bag, along with her own shoulder pack. Taking the heavy black case and equipment bag from her, he queried, "What's all this, Ori?"
She smiled sweetly, replying, "Sniper rifle and special scope belonging to the late, unlamented Savina Delarosa. Sammy's claiming it in lieu of payback for the injury inflicted on her by this." She held up the still bloody tee-handle push knife in its beige colored suede sheath.
"Is that …" he looked at me, "… your blood, Sammy?"
Snarky expression firmly in place, I nodded. "Dokken's team didn't strip search her. She had it in that sheath, clipped to the center of her bra." Trying my best not to limp, I started walking towards the elevator. "It's been a long trip … I'm going to my quarters, take a shower, then have a late-night snack before bed." Looking back over my shoulder, I said, "You guys coming?"
Griff fell into step beside Oriana, saying, "Lead the way, Sammy … we're right behind you."
• CDR SUTTON'S OFFICE, HUMAN EMBASSIES · PRESIDIUM, CITADEL •
"I just learned the asset has been eliminated, Sir." Lieutenant Declan Powell was standing uneasily just inside the inner doorway to Commander Sutton's office.
Sutton glared unhappily at his aide, asking, "You have physical confirmation of this? Are there any physical remains?"
"Not a trace, Sir, which actually is proof, of a sort. The timeline for a successful conclusion of the contract has passed, with no communication. The general is still very much alive and well." Powell glanced discretely at a datapad before adding, "There is no way to salvage this situation, and the asset, if still alive, would have booked passage off Earth by now. I would suggest the credits be withdrawn and the blind account closed."
Sutton sat back in his chair for a moment before responding, "Do it immediately, Declan. I'll have to figure out another method of eliminating the good general." He waited for Powell to leave; when he did not, Sutton allowed his irritation to color his voice. "Something else?"
The man hesitated before replying, "No, Sir." He quickly turned and left the office, leaving Sutton to study the closed door. You're lying, Declan. Question is, about what. Garrett Sutton continued to occasionally glance at the door as he read through his daily reports. He had a niggling feeling between his shoulders … it was the same feeling he had endured for ten days or so, just prior to fleeing Arcturus Station, barely in time to avoid the station's destruction by the Reapers.
He had been monitoring the general's movements for a number of months, and had been surprised to learn she had recently traveled off world, although her leaving Earth hadn't surprised him near as much as her method of transport. Traveling in a goddamned Reaper! What the hell? And I still haven't been able to learn who she accompanied to dinner several evenings prior to that trip. With a small chuckle, he thought, Maybe I should ask the Shadow Broker for help.
• AHN'KAHAR STATION, STRENUUS SYSTEM · HORSEHEAD NEBULA •
After thoroughly washing my hair—a chore that seemed to be taking an increasing amount of time the longer it grew—I stood under the steam of warm water with my hands against the tiles in front of me. Head tipped forward, I enjoyed the feel of the liquid coursing over my hair and skin as it seemed to rinse away some of the cumulative fatigue I was feeling from the past few days.
Several minutes had passed before I pushed away from the wall. Turning the water off, I grabbed a couple of towels; using the smaller of the two, I methodically squeezed the water from my hair, then wound its length into the towel and coiled it on top of my head, turban style. I used the large towel to blot my skin dry, wincing as I slid the fabric past the still healing knife wound.
Using my omnitool over my shoulder in order to view my backside in the mirror, I noted with satisfaction the wound had mended without any scarring. The traces of pain left behind were from still healing muscles.
I applied some moisturizer to my knees and elbows before pulling on my short robe; I made sure to make a proper job of cinching it closed – no need to give Buchanan any additional views of my anatomy. I strolled out to our shared kitchen area, where I found him in quiet conversation with Oriana over two steaming mugs of coffee. Upon noticing my entrance, Griff looked up and immediately blushed ever so slightly, no doubt remembering the last time he had seen me dressed so scantily. He quickly returned his gaze to Oriana, and the pair resumed their quiet conversation.
It was only after I had fixed myself a mug of Kaffe that Ori looked up and motioned to me, saying, "Sammy … please, come sit with us. We need to talk."
Carefully carrying my mug, I walked over and eased myself down on the chair between them. "I am really knackered, guys. All I want to do is crawl off to bed." I glanced at Griff, then drilled Ori with my eyes. "Talk to me while I sip my Kaffe."
She looked at Griff; he looked to me in turn and said, "Ori has been telling me about your trip to Thessia, and your visit with General Park and Savina Delarosa on Earth. I am sorry you had to terminate Delarosa, Sammy; I know it couldn't be avoided, but … hell." His mouth fixed in a tight, straight line, he continued with, "Ori told me you've already discussed leaving our operation behind, Sammy …" he reached out and grasped my left hand. "… and that's okay! I understand … really." He looked back to Oriana. "We have been discussing how to fill your position here, and I believe I will be able to continue on, as long as Ori can stay here as your replacement."
"Sounds great, big guy. I was worried my leaving would cause you to abandon what we've built up here. Oriana should be an excellent fit for my position … and don't forget Chinami – she knows everything about this station's mechanical operations, particularly the environmental controls. I have no doubt the three of you will do well together."
A smile finally tugged at the corners of Griff's mouth. Shaking his head slowly, he conceded, "Sammy, I do not believe there is anyone in this galaxy capable of stepping into your boots, understand? That said, I'm cautiously optimistic that we will be alright here. Question is, will you be alright? Have you decided where you're going, or what you're going to do?"
"Ask me again in the morning, after I've had some sleep." I had been sipping from my mug as we talked; I tipped it up and swallowed the rest of the contents as I rose from the table. Taking the mug to the sink, I rinsed it, then headed for my quarters after bidding my friends a good night.
