Notes:

CO - Commanding Officer

LEAP - League of Earth Alliance Patriots

Thawing the Ice

Atlas Headquarters, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 17 Oct 2188

Jana exchanged pleasantries with Riana as soon as she accepted the early morning call from the Knight Shade. "Ms Iregos. I appreciate the call. Am I to presume this is about Douglas Walker?"

Riana's mood was difficult to read on the monitor, but Jana could plainly see the Asari was frowning slightly… most likely at being required to contact Atlas at all. "Just so you completely understand, I am less than thrilled about this arrangement, Ms Cantrell. That said, I will do my very best to insure our joint success."

Jana schooled her expression to remain neutral as she replied, "Understood, Ms Iregos. If I may be so bold, would you be open to addressing me by my given name? It's Jana."

Riana's eyes narrowed slightly; she looked down for a few moments, obviously thinking about the request. Returning her gaze to the image before her, she replied in a quiet voice, "That would be agreeable, Ms…" she masked the slight hesitation by wiping her hand across her mouth. "Jana." After a moment of silence, she added, "Since you wish to be referred to by your given name, I will extend the same courtesy. You may call me Riana."

With a growing smile, Jana responded, "Thank you… Riana. Our comms are set to receive your data packet. Transmit when you are ready." Jana looked down at her console in surprise, as it began receiving the multi-gigabyte data stream from the Knight Shade. Looking up, she said, "That's an impressive amount of information, Riana. Is all of that from Colonel Culver's interview with Douglas Walker?"

"Most of it," she answered flatly. "There are also copies of the medical examiner's reports for Prime Minister Trost and Admiral Hackett, along with basic investigative information on Corporal Hamilton." At Jana's instant look of puzzlement, the Asari allowed a smirk to seep into her expression as she clarified, "The cowardly Human that ended his own life after murdering Admiral Hackett. His cause of death is obvious, but there may be something in the detective's report that could potentially lead you to his handler."

When the download was complete, Jana quickly said, "Thank you, Riana. I am uploading a progress report for you. It details our own research into this conspiracy, hopefully so we are not duplicating each other's efforts; it includes everything we've learned to date concerning Frédéric Klein. I plan to upload a fresh update at the end of each day until we have this issue resolved to Spectre Shepard's satisfaction."

An expression of approval briefly lit Riana's features as she nodded her head slightly. "You have my thanks for your cooperation… Jana. While I have admitted to my doubts about working with your organization, please know I intend to keep an open mind going forward. Perhaps I can come to believe we truly can benefit from working together."

"I know we can," Jana replied. "We'll get right to work on everything you've sent, Riana. Thank you, and good bye." Jana cut the connection and secured the terminal after moving all the downloads into the limited-access server, so they could be retrieved by Tim, Max, Nina, Valérie or herself. Just looking at the huge amount of information Sharon Culver had learned from Douglas Walker had her mind spinning. She must have offered one Hell of a deal for him to give all that up… Shaking her head as she stood from the workstation, she left the comms compartment to go find Tim.

As Jana walked into the research area, she glanced around to locate her target before moving purposefully to the wide counter where Tim Stafford was currently working; his attention was divided between multiple monitors as he searched among a number of databases for everything concerning Alliance Marine Sergeant Diane Häberli. As Jana approached, he looked up and acknowledged her presence with a tense smile; she began speaking almost before she had stopped moving. "Tim, we've received the data from Spectre Shepard, and it's a massive amount of information; I've stored it all in the limited-access server. While the computers are chewing on the data concerning Häberli, I'd appreciate you taking a look at the investigative reports concerning Admiral Hackett's murderer, Corporal Owen Hamilton. There might be some kind of lead in there that tells us where to start the back-trace on that traitor."

"Sounds good," came the ready response. "Max stopped by with Émiléda, concerning the salad being served that day; I informed them it definitely had a different taste… it wasn't unpleasant, just… it was something I couldn't quite place, though I'd swear I've tasted it before."

Jana nodded at Tim's observation. "We're almost certain something in that salad is what caused Trost's violent reaction. While Max already has a few ideas he's working on – and I have every confidence he'll get to the bottom of it – if you place that taste, be sure to update him."

Tim smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, Jana. But, even if I don't, if anyone can figure out what it was, Max can." He started to say more but stopped. Jana's expression told him she had noticed a hint of blush coloring his face, so he sighed and continued. "I was going to say it's good to be back here with something positive to do, rather than sitting uselessly in that detention facility."

Cantrell's smile was grim as she replied. "It's good to have you and the others back here, but we won't be complete until Zoë has been released to rejoin us. Let us hope there will be no need for us to ever be separated like that again."

Alliance Military Headquarters, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 17 Oct 2188

Webster clamped the VISITOR badge to the lapel of his shirt, then opened his omnitool to briefly study the hospital's layout. The secure patient wing was up two levels and down a rather long passageway; he would have to pass through two security checkpoints with scanners before being admitted to the area. Sheldon was not privy to any of the details concerning the debacle that had turned the after-dedication luncheon into a scene of utter chaos, and couldn't help but wonder if the assassin responsible for Zoë's injuries was also in this area. He did know that two people had died but was more concerned about those still living… specifically, Zoë Lawrence.

He had been meaning to visit her sooner, immediately after his meeting with Jana the previous Monday. Don't know why I took so long to do this. Have I become so damned unsure of myself that I hesitate to visit an injured woman in the hospital? He continued to think about this as he cleared the security checkpoints.

As soon as he knocked on her door, the haptic interface cross-faded from orange to green; the door panel slid into its pocket as a bored-sounding voice beckoned him to enter. Discovering Zoë seated in an upholstered chair placed in front of the window, he didn't expect that she would remember him after their brief meeting in January. Moving to stand to the side and slightly ahead of the chair, he studied the ivory colored tribal tattoos on the left side of her face as she returned his gaze. Her curious expression quickly changed to recognition as she reached out with her right hand and spoke. "Sheldon Webster… late of Atlas-New Cousteau, on Trident, I believe."

Webster grinned as he gripped her hand – Not as weak as I would have expected, given what she's been through – pumped it once and released it, saying, "I'm surprised you remembered me, Ms Lawrence. It's good to see you again."

Making a noise by blowing air past her lips, she answered, "Pfft… Jana's been keeping me in the loop concerning everything that's been going on, including your earlier visit." She narrowed her eyes slightly while continuing, "I have to concur with her opinion that our group is not as robust following your resignation, Mr Webster." Waving to the chair sitting across from a small table, she added, "Have a seat, and please, call me Zoë."

Webster moved, sat in the comfortable chair facing her and smiled as he said, "Only if you'll call me Sheldon." As this was only the second time he'd been in such close proximity to her, he paused for a moment to study her face as he smiled at her, thinking, Damn! She is most attractive… exotically so! "I thought you might enjoy seeing a non-Alliance visitor. Don't expect too many people make the effort to get in this place to see you. The security does seem a bit tight, even for an Alliance-run medical facility."

The deep chuckle surprised him. "I was injured preventing a cloaked assassin from reaching Ambassador Hoffman," she replied. "The brass doesn't want anything else happening to me before I'm discharged, so I'm being accorded VIP treatment."

"Frédéric Klein," he said in a near whisper. "I hear that bottom feeder disappeared during the vacuum left by Jack Harper's mysterious departure, before you took over. If you don't mind my asking, are your injuries healing okay?"

Dark eyes clouding slightly at the memories, she placed her right hand on her left side above her hip while replying, "Two stab wounds. Destroyed a kidney, sliced my stomach open. I've been told I damn near bled out…" she nodded at the window, "… on their manicured grass out there."

Sheldon nodded in sympathy. "You must have really pissed him off. How'd you get him off of you?"

"Had my thumbs buried in his larynx when Sergeant… Maddix, I think… kicked him in the head. Don't remember much after that… I was drifting in and out. After my surgery, I learned who the assassin was. If it had been anyone else, the damned blade would have probably been coated with some fast-acting poison. Tim identified him to the sergeant who was accompanying Hoffman, and then told the sergeant who I was and asked him to get word to Spectre Shepard about us."

"What was Shepard's involvement in all this?"

Zoë told Sheldon how she and Tim had met the Spectre the week before the ceremony… and that Shepard had promised to not say anything that would keep herself or Tim from attending. "None of us had our omnitools, so we couldn't even let Jana know they were holding us. Shepard sent word to Alliance brass, asking them to drop all the charges and release us… well, everyone but me. I'll be here for a few more days to finish recuperating; once they release me, I'll have to avoid getting physical with anyone for a while." Looking down at her hands, she added, "I'll be back here in a few months to have a new kidney implanted… compliments of the Alliance for my unexpected, yet valiant, aid to Ambassador Hoffman."

After wiping her eyes, she said, "Enough about me… what about you? You've left Atlas and Trident behind. Jana tells me you're planning to stay in Vancouver? To work and live here?"

Sheldon responded, "I'm already working for Cision Motors… as a supervisor for the second shift. They have a remanufacturing center upriver from our… that is, your base. There are more than enough damaged X3M's and X3M-C's to keep us busy rebuilding them for a long time. Simpler and more cost effective to repair than to manufacture new ones… so far. With the economy in a shambles, people are doing well if they can afford a roof over their heads, food for their bellies and clothes to wear. Those fortunate enough to have jobs need transportation, and our re-mans cost no more than a third of new."

Zoë nodded and smiled at his enthusiasm. "Sounds like you have a job you enjoy." After a brief pause, she asked, "Would you mind giving me your contact information, Sheldon? Our agents have been increasingly busy these past few weeks. I'm thinking we need a few more speeders, at least, and your remanufactured X3M's sound like they'd more than meet our needs."

Sheldon grinned as he activated his omnitool. "There's my work address and network ident-code."

Zoë tapped several controls on her own interface; after filing Sheldon's contact information, she forwarded hers to him, then shyly said, "Just because you no longer work for Atlas… Hell, especially since you're no longer working with us, don't become a stranger, Sheldon. You'll be living here… let me know if you need any assistance finding your way around, or… if you'd just like to talk with someone with whom you're already acquainted."

Sheldon filed Zoë's info in his omnitool, then stood to leave. "I need to get going… have to go to work. Thanks for the contact info... and, if you don't mind, I'd like to come by to visit again before they cut you loose."

Zoë smiled up at the man. "I'll look forward to that, Sheldon. Thanks for coming by to see me. I enjoyed your visit."

Sheldon nodded, then slipped past her, left her room and strolled down the hall. I enjoyed visiting her, he thought. I'll come back in a couple of days, just to see how she's doing. Feeling more relaxed than he had for some time, he left the Alliance base and drove to Cision Motors.

Atlas Headquarters, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 17 Oct 2188

Once he finished setting up his queries regarding Sergeant Häberli, Stafford opened the file on Corporal Owen Hamilton. Tim had witnessed Hamilton blowing his brains out, so it was no surprise that his cause of death was listed as a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Given what was happening, Tim hadn't taken the time for a close look as the corporal fell to the ground dead… but the report included the minutest of details. Tim remembered the corporal had placed the muzzle of his weapon under his chin, and the report added that the bullet had entered Hamilton's lower jaw behind his front teeth, tore into his nasal cavity through the roof of his mouth, then exited a couple of centimeters behind his natural hairline after destroying the frontal lobes of his brain. The file also included photos; a collection of wide shots, as well as a few close-ups, were not something Stafford thought he would ever be able to 'un-see'.

Hamilton's weapon, an M-11 Suppressor, had been recovered and placed in an evidence locker after ballistic tests; it appeared to be Hamilton's personal weapon, rather than the standard Alliance-issue M-5. Must have decided he didn't need a lot of capacity for the assignment, Tim thought. More accurate, quieter, high damage per round, faster rate of fire. I need to speak with his CO, if they'll even let me back in the place.

The corporal's immediate supervisor had been a Marine Master Sergeant, name of Matthias Scholtz. Looking for his Alliance HQ contact information, he discovered an interesting fact. Scholtz's office was shared by Marine Sergeant Diane Häberli. So, had Hamilton received his assignment as Hackett's guard from Scholtz, or from Häberli? Was my impression of Häberli accurate? Deciding against a personal visit – better to have Spectre Shepard pay them a visit after I do some more digging – Tim added Scholtz's name to the search program already running and returned to his earlier hunt for background data on Sergeant Häberli.

It was many hours later when Stafford sat back in his chair in near disbelief, vigorously dry-scrubbing his face as he attempted to wrap his mind around this latest revelation. Glancing at the wall-mounted chrono beside the door, he started at the realization he had been working nearly nonstop since Jana's mid-morning visit, and it was now just past dinnertime. After downloading all his research notes to an OSD, he secured his personal terminal, grabbed his jacket and left to find Jana. He was texting on his way out the door. Need to see you. Now.

"We have to alert Zoë, Tim! She has no idea of the danger she's in." Jana had skimmed through the results of Stafford's research with a rapidly increasing sense of dread. "Having Klein chained to his bed won't do her any damned good if Scholtz or Häberli can get to Zoë!"

"Medina…" Tim murmured, before speaking up. "Contact Corporal Medina… quietly. She's been rock solid in Zoë's corner ever since she was injured. If nothing else, she can stay with Zoë until either Boris or myself can get over there… provide her with some cover. Zoë's in no shape to single-handedly take on a determined killer."

Jana was moving to make the call before Tim finished speaking. "Right under our goddamned noses all the time," came the bitter declaration as Jana waited impatiently for Gracie to answer. The puzzled expression on Medina's face upon accepting the call quickly became one of steely determination as Jana explained what they had discovered. "We have an agent coming over to stay with her, Corporal. At this point, I'd feel much better if she wasn't alone in her room."

Gracelyn showed her teeth in a grim, humorless smile. "I'm on it, Ms Cantrell. I'll head over there right now."

"Quietly, Corporal… We still don't know how deep this pile of excrement goes. Be careful." Jana disconnected and nodded to Tim. "Go! I'll round up Boris and Rich; along with Medina, the four of you should be able to keep Zoë covered. We'll need to rotate our people, but I absolutely do not want her alone in her room, security be damned!"

"Agreed. Should we call Zoë? Let her know what's going on?"

"Secure text only, Tim. I don't want the Alliance getting wind of what we've found." After a brief pause, Jana added, "I suppose we need to pass this information to the Knight Shade as well, just in case something actually does happen."

Alliance Military Headquarters, Vancouver B.C. – 17 Oct 2188

In less than forty-five minutes, Tim was knocking on the door to Zoë's room in the Alliance HQ hospital; he was greeted by a worried looking Gracelyn Medina. "Thank God it's you. I'm scheduled for a shift on the other side of the facility. My CO doesn't seem to feel that Zoë needs any special consideration. She's due for a final checkup and release on Monday."

Tim nodded as he thanked the corporal. "I'm here now… but still glad you had time to come by to cover the gap." With an embarrassed frown, he added, "And I never properly thanked you for assisting her out there…" he inclined his head and waved towards the window, "… after she was injured." He raised his right hand, which she gripped. "Thank you, Corporal. I appreciate your dedication."

Medina pumped Tim's hand twice and replied as she released it. "You're very welcome." Turning towards Zoë, she said, "Farewell, Zoë. Stay safe."

Zoë glanced at Tim before slowly rising from her chair; fixing her steady gaze on the young Marine, she reached out, surprising her with a heartfelt embrace while whispering in her ear. "You have my gratitude as well, and… stay safe in this place, Gracie. I pray there'll be no further incidents." Releasing her, she took a step back, nodded silently and returned to her chair.

Medina's eyes were shiny as she nodded, then briskly left the room. Tim watched as she allowed the door to close behind her, then turned to look at Zoë as she cleared her throat. "So, you told me what you were doing, but not why. Care to elaborate?"

Before he replied, Stafford activated his omnitool and swept the entire room, including the bathroom and closet, for listening devices. Pausing in surprise as he swept the tool past Zoë, he swept the tool a couple more times until it zeroed in on the metal clasp of her robe. Listening device, he thought as he pantomimed for her to remove her robe, which she did after standing up. Taking the garment from her, he inspected the clasp a bit closer and opened a new subroutine on his omnitool, setting the device to disable the electronics inside the clasp; his efforts were rewarded by a minute puff of smoke. He held the robe out for her to push her arms through, then pulled it up and settled it on her shoulders as he asked, "How long has this been here, Zoë?"

Whispering her thanks, she pulled the edges across her chest, answering as she carefully returned to her chair. "It's a freshly laundered garment… I just pulled it from the closet this morning."

"So, you weren't wearing it when Shepard came to visit us?"

After thinking for a moment, she replied, "No. The robe I was wearing definitely did not have a clasp such as this. It wasn't in my closet either." Huffing in exasperation, she added, "Damned Alliance. It'll be so good to be away from this place." Fixing him with appraising eyes, she said, "Now, tell me what you've discovered."

Zoë shook her head in near disbelief at everything Stafford had divulged concerning the conspiracy; finally speaking in a soft voice, she said, "That LEAP's, Terra Firma's and Earth First's xenophobic beliefs are so widespread within the SA military is not too difficult to accept, Tim. What does strain credibility is their willingness to kill Humans in positions of power and influence. Damn them all to Hell!" She took a sip of water as she attempted to wrap her mind around this new reality. "And you found proof this sergeant – this Diane Häberli – provided the blades to Klein?"

"She covered her tracks extremely well, but her patrol route included the entrance through which Klein entered the venue. Once he cleared the metal detectors at the gate, he went straight to the restrooms; this was recorded by a camera in the passageway. Häberli can be seen passing that location immediately after Klein, before the feed was scrambled; the timestamp of the last frame in which she was visible is mere seconds before the signal was interrupted. The signal was restored within 48 seconds… 12 seconds before an alarm would have been triggered in the security station. Shortly afterwards, Klein can be seen exiting the restroom and walking back the way he had entered, while Häberli is not seen in the passageway again."

Thinking about Tim's explanation, Zoë said, "It appears to me that all you have is speculation, Tim. While it is true that Häberli was in that passage shortly after Klein passed by, there's really no hard evidence that she passed a pair of blades to him during the time the camera was offline." Studying Tim's expression, she added, "You've told me of her hostile demeanor after you were detained. I have to wonder if your less than favorable impression of her is not clouding your judgement?"

Stafford leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his nose and mouth as he thought about Zoë's words. Studying her eyes and face past his fingertips, several increasingly uncomfortable minutes of silence had passed before he sighed heavily; lowering his hands to rest in his lap, he said, "As we're working for Spectre Shepard, we'll need more than circumstantial evidence to successfully bring charges against Sergeant Häberli… or anyone else, won't we?"

Zoë nodded slowly as he finished speaking. "It doesn't make me happy either, Tim. I feel a Hell of a lot less secure knowing at least one of Klein's confederates is stationed within this facility. When you return to base, get Nina to help you do more digging into Häberli's past, and keep searching for everything you can find concerning Sergeant Scholtz's background. I don't like unexplainable coincidences, Tim; both those sergeants working in the same office smells like last week's garbage, but we can't accuse them of collusion in this without irrefutable proof."

Tim smiled as he activated his omnitool. "Nina is already researching Frédéric Klein's recent history, particularly how he managed to fall off the grid after leaving Cerberus." He entered a short message, pressed SEND, then closed the interface as he looked at Zoë. "Looking for proof he's acquainted with Sergeant Häberli may even help her search."

T'Soni Country Estate, Thessia, Athena Nebula – 18 Oct 2188

Following the visit with Councilor Tevos in her offices, Shepard had reboarded the Knight Shade and instructed Lusmeni to head for Thessia. She wanted to speak with Mozia and Aethyta, to ask about preparing for her interview with the Council of Governesses. By pure luck, that placed them all at the Estate when an unscheduled transport shuttle arrived on Saturday morning, bearing Selina T'Rori and all her personal belongings from the Destiny Ascension. Once the arriving passenger was announced, a tearful Lyessa dropped everything to run to the landing zone.

"By the Goddess! Selina T'Rori! Why did you not tell me you were arriving today?" Lyessa's protest was cut off as Selina scooped her from the tarmac and swung her around in a circle, kissing her in front of the entire group, all of whom were cheering madly and urging the bonded couple on.

When her spin was complete, Selina dropped Lyessa back onto her own two feet and grinned. "Because I wanted to surprise you, silly! I'll assume from your reaction, I succeeded!" She immediately renewed the kiss, promptly stopping any reply Lyessa may have had.

Liara laughed and clapped her hands with joy, beaming at the twosome as she stated, "Welcome home, Selina! I, for one, am very happy to see you…" She grinned at Lyessa as she added, "Having not heard from you at all, when a certain someone expected you home on the 15th? Our Steward has been positively insufferable since we arrived Thursday afternoon."

"I wasn't that bad, was I?" Lyessa blushed as she continued, "Don't answer that, please… because I know I was. I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry about it, Lyessa." Shepard let out a hearty laugh and grinned. "You're not the only one who gets grouchy when someone is later than expected…" She stepped closer to Liara and wrapped an arm around her bondmate's waist. "I've suffered Liara's wrath and concern – though generally with good reason – more than once."

"We'll get you settled in at Engineering Maintenance… starting Monday, Sel." Liara's face shined with happiness for the reunited couple at her focus shifted to Lyessa. "In the meantime, Steward, you are both off duty to enjoy the weekend together. Is that understood?"

Lyessa's face picked up a bit of color and she chuckled as she responded, "Don't be silly, Mistress. Sel and I will enjoy our private time together, but it will not impede on our duties… provided you and the Captain can stay out of trouble for the weekend and not demand any special attention?"

"I suppose we can do that. A quiet weekend at home would be a very welcome change of pace right about now." Shepard couldn't keep the huge grin off her face as she watched the growing volume of cargo coming off the shuttle. "Besides, from the looks of it, you'll have quite a bit of equipment and gear to stow… somewhere."

Selina nodded in agreement. "Yes. I managed to procure some specialty engineering equipment from excess stores aboard the Ascension. House T'Soni is about to have our repair center significantly upgraded."

Shepard smirked as she replied, "Legally, I presume."

The newest addition to the staff looked scandalized as she gasped, "But of course! I would never…"

"Oh, Goddess, Sel!" The engineer stopped speaking as Lyessa erupted in laughter before continuing, "You have a lot to learn about our Spectre. She's obviously teasing you."

"Don't worry about it, Selina." Shepard smiled softly. "Lyessa is absolutely correct. I guess I should behave and not tease you, at least until you get to know me."

Liara scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You? Not tease? That will be the day."

With a grin and a twinkle in her eye, the Spectre responded, "Ah, you're right, of course." Releasing Liara's waist in exchange for taking her hand, Shepard turned toward the house. "Come on, Selina. You can't enjoy any personal time with Lyessa if we keep you standing out here on the tarmac!"

Atlas Headquarters, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 18 Oct 2188

Lee Maxwell's search for the cause of Prime Minister Trost's death brought on by an allergy to something he had eaten had uncovered multiple clues. After consulting with Émiléda about the ingredients in the salad – specifically, the dressing – and speaking with Tim Stafford, since he had sampled the salad with no ill effects, Max narrowed his focus to the Prime Minister's early life on Earth.

Reuben Trost was the very embodiment of a self-made man. Having grown up on a small family farm situated in the Yakima valley of Washington state, his parents were never more than one bad harvest away from financial disaster; this explained why in-vitro gene therapy had been well beyond their financial reach. He had been diagnosed with an allergy to honey as a young child; a few years after this discovery, he was also found to be allergic to peanuts – in any form – but especially peanut oil. And, while his allergies to either honey or peanuts was not life-threatening, if taken together, ingestion of even ten milliliters of peanut oil mixed with honey could prove to be lethal.

Max learned that Trost's parents had not hidden his allergies from those that needed to know about them, primarily the student resource officials at the public schools he had attended. But, as a young man in college, public knowledge of his allergies faded quickly with his growing independence and control over his own diet. Max now fully believed, beyond any reasonable doubt, the contents of the dressing used in the salad, a blend of honey-mustard in a light vegetable oil – specifically, peanut oil, rather than the olive oil that was normally used – had led to a rapid onset of lethal anaphylaxis. The only questions that remained to be answered was who had learned of the Prime Minister's food allergies, and to whom in the Alliance kitchens had that knowledge been directed. With a heavy sigh, Max once again sent a meeting request to Émiléda.

Alliance Military Facility, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 20 Oct 2188

Jana Cantrell had brought the clothes Zoë had requested; unlike the attire she had been wearing for the dedication, today she was wearing an outfit more akin to what she had been wearing when she returned to lead the remnants of Cerberus the previous year. Unseen under the lower edge of her long, hooded cloak was a leather belt slung around her torso just above her hipbones, with a hard point receptacle on the right side for an M-11 Suppressor heavy pistol, which Jana would give her when they reached the X3M Tim Stafford was bringing around to collect the two women for the ride back.

Jana had expressed shocked amazement upon seeing the angry scars left in Zoë's left side by Klein's blade. "Why didn't Doctor Stegmann use a dermal regenerator on those wounds, Zoë?"

Wearing only a pair of skimpy panties and a black sports bra, she faced the full-length mirror and twisted her body to the right in order to study the reflection of her left side. "I don't want to ever forget how that knife felt in my side, Jana. This scar…" she placed her fingertips next to what appeared to be an angry zipper running in a jagged, diagonal line across her side, just above her left hipbone, "… was the first hit. Klein tore his blade back out at an angle and stabbed me a second time." The smaller of the two scars was no wider than the knife that had made it, but the blade's 19-centimeter length had been buried to its hilt in her side. Zoë turned back towards Jana, saying, "Physically, I've healed… well, I'm short one kidney, but I'm still alive. These scars will remind me every day for the rest of my life how close I came to dying that day."

She quietly pulled on her compression top, followed by a pair of opaque black tights, her wool skirt and a short-sleeve tank-top under Jana's watchful eye; before pulling on her boots, she retrieved the knife Gracie had returned and strapped it to the outside of her right calf with the pommel even with her kneecap. With her boots on, she pulled on her cloak and, after raising the hood up over her head, nervously asked her XO, "How do I look?"

"Are you kidding me? Zoë, you look every bit as amazing as the day you returned to us after leading Angel…" her voice hitched as she said Warren's name; a brief, pained look from Zoë spoke volumes about how they felt concerning Angelique's death. Coughing to clear the sudden restriction in her throat, Jana continued on. "… Angel and Tim across two-thirds of the damned galaxy. I've already told you I was scared out of my mind about your fate! With Hackett and Trost dead, I was terrified you had been killed as well, and the Alliance was simply covering it up." An expression of anguish washed briefly across her features as she concluded, "Command staff here refused all my requests for information, and Riana Iregos was less than cordial and even less accommodating when she called."

Zoë had never had a family – or anyone close – while growing up. Now, the Atlas people she worked with had become a surrogate family, with Jana Cantrell as the big sister she might have wished for when she was younger. Zoë stepped up to the woman and wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. She whispered, "I feel really bad to have worried you so, Jana. I truly cannot imagine how awful not knowing our fate was for you."

Jana smiled as Zoë released her and stepped back, saying, "You're still alive. It's been a long three weeks without you, but now you're free to leave this place. Today, that's all that matters to me." Crooking her right elbow, Jana began walking from the room as Zoë looped her hand into the offered support.

In short order, Zoë was presented with her release documents, including the written promise of receiving a cloned kidney to replace the organ that Klein had shredded with his blade. Once the pair had cleared the security checkpoints, they rode the elevator down to ground level and started down the passageway for the guarded main entrance/exit.

Just before reaching the large double doors, the sound of someone trotting towards them from behind nearly had Zoë reaching for her concealed knife as she turned to face a possible threat. A relieved smile lit her face as she recognized the source of the running feet; Corporal Gracelyn Medina slid to a stop in front of the pair as Zoë straightened to greet her.

"You wouldn't be attempting to leave without saying goodbye to me, would you?"

Zoë reached out with both arms to pull Medina in for a hug. With her mouth beside the corporal's ear, she whispered, "I'm really happy you came to see me off, Gracie… and this most definitely is not goodbye. We're friends now… and don't forget I'll be back in five or six months so Doctor Stegmann can implant a new kidney." Before releasing her, Zoë surprised the Marine with a soft kiss on her cheek. "And I had better see you a lot sooner than that!"

Gracie's face held a hint of pink as she looked into Zoë's ebony eyes and stammered, "Um, well… in that case, um… you take care of yourself out there, Ma'am. You have my contact info, so send me a note if you need, um… well, anything, or just to let me know how you're doing."

Zoë's smile was radiant as she replied, "You've made my stay here a lot more pleasant than I had any right to expect, Gracie. I will not forget that… ever. Watch your six, okay?"

Not trusting her voice, Medina nodded, first to Zoë, then to Jana, before turning on her heel and walking slowly back the way she had come.

Jana watched her for a few moments before turning to Zoë and observing, "You made a friend for life with that one, I think. Hold her close, Zoë. You may very well need her assistance here in the near future." Zoë turned back towards the doors, but not before Jana observed thin trails of moisture slowly traveling down her cheeks. Looks like Medina made a real impression on Zoë as well, came the thought. That's a good thing… she needs every friend she can find.

Zoë Lawrence stepped out through the hospital doors into the light drizzle of a foggy early autumn morning. Once through the heavy doors, they stood for a few moments as Jana used her omnitool to let Tim know he needed to bring the speeder up to the circular drive. While standing with Jana, Zoë took a breath of the moisture-laden air and commented, "I know there's no possible difference, but the air out here just seems to smell better than what's in that building."

Noting the slight look of amusement in Jana's expression, she smiled in return as Tim brought the X3M around from their left, stopping in front of the pair as they slowly descended the wide steps outside the building. He popped the doors and jumped out to assist, taking the clothing and other items Jana had been carrying and placing them in the left-hand back seat as Zoë gingerly slid onto the right rear. Jana picked up the M-11 Tim had brought and handed it back to Zoë, before joining her compatriots in the small craft. Once they had settled in, Tim closed the side doors and top canopy before engaging the compact eezo core and pointing the nose for home.

Zoë remained silent as she studied the city streaming past the canopy – revealed by turns to be newly rebuilt, followed by shattered mounds of concrete and masonry – as Tim monitored the control interface. Noting Zoë's interest in the passing scenery, he said, "Not much progress to see here… you were only in that place for a few weeks."

She chuckled humorlessly as she replied, "Seems like months. I've never been down for such a long time." After a few moments of silence, she directed her attention to Cantrell, saying, "I need to go shopping for armor, Jana. I know there is a light-weight, combat mesh available that will turn most blades… I could kick myself for not thinking to at least have something like that on over my compression top."

"You'll need all new blouses and tank-tops as well, then," came the reply. Looking over her shoulder at Zoë, she added with a smirk as she purposely directed her gaze at her chest, "Otherwise, the additional thickness underneath will make everything you wear just a bit… too snug." Zoë returned Jana's smirk with one of her own as Cantrell fell silent to ponder on what Zoë needed to acquire. When she began speaking again, her voice held a touch of concern. "I think we need to record your measurements and request some samples be sent to us. I really don't think it would be wise for you to be seen shopping for light armor. The less the public – and the military – knows about your intervention on Hoffman's behalf, the better."

Sighing in resignation, Zoë quietly replied, "I agree. Best not to advertise my involvement at all. Needing Spectre Shepard to intervene on our behalf brought a lot more attention to us than is healthy for an organization such as ours. Not that I'm complaining… her words cut through a huge amount of bureaucratic crap for us. I'm just glad we're working on the same side, for a change."