A/N: I'm very tired (work is wild plus insomnia, great mix!) and can't work out a way to double space the 'memory flashes' so I used the line break to stop each quote from running into the next. It's the best way my mushy brain could come up with :P

"Good work, you actually did some scouting."

"You didn't think I would?"

"Move! She's going into cardiac arrest."

"It's a seizure; her brain can't handle the connection. Get her to SAM node."

"Ryder's implant is overloading. I suggest a hardwire connection."

"It was your life or his, and he chose you."

"If I pull this off, maybe you'll look like the leader you pretend to be."

"But first you have to succeed at being the Pathfinder you pretend to be."

"That's what you're up against. Why people don't trust you. Why I don't trust you."

"I prepped for years as your father's second then he chooses you. An untrained Pathfinder and all this mess to fix? The hell was he thinking?"

Sara raked her fingers back through her hair, curled her hands into fists and gripped until her scalp burned. The pain focused her thoughts, quieted the busy storm raging through her skull. Painful thoughts, reminding her of just how much her position and capabilities were second guessed by...well. Everyone, or so it seemed. Painful feelings that were in the possession of one terrifying kett leader when they really shouldn't have been. She hadn't willingly shared them, he had taken them by force.

SAM was as worried as an AI embedded in her brain could be. He monitored her stress, suggesting she seek assistance from her crewmates. She had forbidden him from calling anyone to her. She knew he had her best interests at heart, but she really couldn't deal with a psych evaluation from Lexi right now, or a pep talk from Cora. She didn't want to face her crew, didn't want to see the recognition in their eyes when they realized just how goddamn scared she was. Leaders weren't meant to feel fear, they were meant to be a bastion of strength.

She had simply been going through the motions since the moment she returned to the Tempest after her mission aboard the Archon's flagship, after her had…violated her. She had sat through an examination with Lexi (who was furious with Sara for allowing SAM to kill her), checked and stowed her weapons and armour, showered and written her mission report, and then sealed herself away in her quarters away from her crew as she walked the knife edge between calm and panic. Now she perched on the very edge of her bed, her mind a riot of thoughts.

The Archon had seen her memories. He had been inside her head, seen things that no one else was meant to see. It was an invasion of a space so private not even Scott or Cora or anyone had ever seen or heard those thoughts and feelings and she had been powerless to stop him. Powerless as he rifled through her mind at his leisure. Saw her fears, her feelings of inadequacy. She felt a shudder crawl up her spine.

He would use it, weaponize her insecurities, of that she was certain.

"The kett are masters at knowing how and when to strike."

Perhaps worse still was the knowledge that Suvi, going over the data once Sara was safely back on the Tempest, had noticed the Archon had seen the memory flashes as SAM tried to resuscitate Sara. So, did that mean Suvi had seen them too? She wasn't sure, didn't want to ask.

Sara carefully reached over her shoulder and touched a finger to the back of her neck, felt the rough edges of a pinprick scab forming at the injection site. Felt a cold spike of fear in her chest. The Archon had jabbed her with a needle, buried tech beneath her skin. They had no idea what it was, just that it didn't appear to be anything more malicious than a monitoring device.

She felt sick. Restless. A tightness in her chest, a shallowness to her breath as though she couldn't draw in enough oxygen. She swallowed hard and smoothed her hands back over her hair, retying her ponytail. Once done she let her hands drop to her lap, eyeing the door opposite her. The rest of the crew would be asleep by now, giving her full reign of the ship. Perhaps walking a few circuits of the deck would burn off some of the energy thrumming through her body, allow her to sleep.

Sara pushed herself up to her feet and crossed her room to the door. Her fingers hesitated over the lock for a moment, reconsidering. She sighed and shook her head, hit the button. The lock glowed green and the panel whooshed open. Sara stuffed her hands into her hoody pocket and stepped over the threshold, out into the corridor beyond.

A walk would clear her mind.