Chapter 2: When Lightning Strikes Twice

Smoke rose in lazy curly-q's toward the vents of the Situation Room on Arcturus Station, making its way to central filtration to be recycled through the rest of the system.

Admiral Mikhailovich puffed pensively on the half-spent cigar clenched between his middle- and forefingers.

"Attempting to understand Shepard's movements with Cerberus is a lost cause," he stated resolutely, ashing the cigar in a marble tray situated on the table. "The Alliance must move past that unfortunate turn of events and focus on the more pressing matters at hand. I must say – should we even be surprised? She should have never been in command of the Normandy to begin with."

Admiral Hackett clenched his jaw, sighing quietly. He wondered idly how exactly it was that prick had gotten promoted before reminding himself that humanity was, for all intents and purposes, at war with the Collectors; people did stupid things during wartime.

"Noted," Hackett stated neutrally. "What are these more pressing matters you believe we must address?"

"Fehl Prime," he responded, looking at a portable terminal set up in front of him. He clicked through a couple menus to display a map of the colony in the center of the table. "Their labs are among the most prolific and profitable installments of the SA – a Collector attack would devastate our R&D branch. We should consider them a prime target and thus a top priority for Alliance protection."

"The Collectors have not thus far demonstrated a particular interest in our, as you say, profitable facilities," piped in Rear Admiral Russolillo, her singsong accent sounding through the room.

"Do you presume that we are in any position to know what the Collectors do or do not have an interest in?" he answered contemptuously.

Admiral Hackett shut his eyes, resisting the urge to point out that it was under just such a presumption that Mikhailovich was trying to divert resources to Fehl Prime. The other Alliance officials of the investigatory council remained silent as well.

But the Rear Admiral from the Italian branch of the SA held her ground. "I do not presume to know anything that Intelligence has not provided."

A tense silence hung in the air as Mikhailovich puffed on his cigar once more.

"Intelligence has not provided much of anything," he replied curtly.

At this, Hackett could not stay quiet. "Our Intelligence Analysts have been working around the clock to provide reliable intel for Alliance Tactical."

"And yet here we are," clipped Mikhailovich, waving vaguely at the room. "You must understand," he began, the condescension creeping into his voice, "Collector activity is merely an abstract for these Analysts – they have no concept of the consequences of inaction."

The rage building within Hackett burst forth, and he slammed a fist down on the table. "That accusation is as inaccurate as it is distasteful. Not three days ago, an Intelligence Analyst worked three shifts straight to decrypt Collector transmissions that she herself intercepted. And before you make another ill-advised comment," Hackett's voice warned dangerously, "she was on Horizon visiting her family when the Collectors struck and abducted both of her parents."

He heard Russolillo and at least one other official inhale sharply, and Mikhailovich appeared momentarily disarmed.

This fool has no idea what his own people have endured Hackett thought bitterly as he stared the man down.

"Very well," Mikhailovich finally responded. "And what did this Intelligence Analyst discover?"

Hackett shifted uncomfortably. He knew what would follow would be nigh unbelievable.

"Her intel suggests that the Collector home base is located beyond the Omega 4 relay."

Barely had he finished his sentence before Mikhailovich snorted derisively. "And I suppose they are guarded by an army of unicorns and dragons as well?" he asked, ashing his cigar once more.

Hackett ground his teeth so hard he was certain the others were able to hear. "Serviceman Traynor is arguably the most adept Intelligence Analyst I have ever seen-"

"This council is not meeting to assess your subjective observations," Mikhailovich spat.

"If we were to devote more resources to assessing the relay and how we might traverse it, we-"

"Enough!" it was the younger man's turn to slam his fist. "We will send a military contingent to Fehl Prime, and that is the final word – lest you forget whom Fleet Master Matthews has appointed head of this council?"

The two men stared at each other for several tense beats.

"I have not forgotten," Hackett sighed. "But I do have a request."

"Speak, then."

"I would like to ask that Serviceman Traynor be transferred to Fehl Prime as part of the military contingent. She is more than capable, and she has a personal interest in stopping the Collectors. Traynor is one of the most intelligent and driven individuals I've ever met, and I would like to evaluate her field operations."

Mikhailovich regarded his cigar as if contemplating its merits.

"Granted," he answered curtly.

"Also," Hackett continued before Mikhailovich could adjourn the meeting. "I would like to ask you to provide secondary authorization for Traynor's promotion to Operations Chief, with the title of Communications Specialist."

Normally it was within the Admiral's power to promote one of his subordinates to the next level. In this case, however, a promotion to Operations Chief meant that Traynor would be rising three grades – such advancement required the sanction of more than one top-ranking official.

"If she is so adept at her position, why are you requesting this now?" Mikhailovich's grey eyebrows knitted.

"She needs the clearance and authority that comes with rank," Hackett responded simply. "She is shackled by her status."

Mikhailovich sighed briefly. "Very well. O.C. Traynor will act as an Individual Augmentee to Delta Squad and report to the Port at 0800 tomorrow."

"Delta Squad will serve you admirably, sir," Captain Toni interjected quickly.

Hackett nodded, feeling a wash of relief. It wasn't often that he encountered a servicemember who inspired such confidence in him, but Traynor was one such individual.

"Thank you, Admiral."

Mikhailovich nodded, stubbing out his cigar.

"Dismissed."


The Phoenix Massing, Fehl Prime, 3 months after the Collector attack on Horizon

Sam poked a fork halfheartedly at a plate of what she supposed was meant to be meat loaf, potatoes, and peas. Somehow, it had all taken on a somewhat uniform grey color, and she was feeling rather uninspired by the meal before her.

"Mind if I sit, Traynor?"

She glanced up to see a massive man standing before her, clutching a tray of his own. It seemed miniscule compared to his giant frame.

What was his name? she squinted, recognizing him from the shuttle she'd ridden with Delta Squad to and from their transport ship. I want to say 'Butch'…?

"James," he told her as if answering her thoughts. "Vega," he added.

"Yes, of course," she waved airily. "Please, James," she gestured to the empty seat across her. "It's quite brave of you to sit with the colony leper," she joked, tilting her head towards the thoroughly empty table at which she sat.

"Eh, I like my space," he responded as he settled in. "No matter the cost."

She smiled good-naturedly and resumed poking at her food. A few moments passed before James piped up.

"We call it surprise loaf."

Sam looked up, slightly startled by his interjection. "Sorry?"

He pointed at the food on her plate. "Surprise loaf. We think it's supposed to be meat loaf, but, well…who can be sure?" he shrugged, starting in on his own helping.

She attempted to take another bite before sighing and setting down her fork.

"I've never been good at faking it," she commented before she could stop herself.

James coughed into his tray.

"Beg your pardon?" His eyes were wide.

She snorted, waving at him. "Nothing, nothing. Just making a piss-poor joke."

"Those are my favorite kind," he told her with a grin. "So, about not faking it…"

"Don't bother," she interrupted, taking a sip of her water. "You'd be wasting your efforts."

"Ah," he hummed, taking another bite of surprise loaf. "Taken?"

Traynor snorted a sip of water, coughing it out sharply. "God, no," she set the glass down, swiping at her mouth. "Aggressively single. Just…well, I suppose you and I might find ourselves in competition."

James nodded slowly, loading up his fork. "I get you, I get you," he swallowed another bite. "Nah, that's good," he continued after considering for a moment. "I could use some advice – you know, chick-wise."

Sam opened her mouth to tell him to shove off, before she reconsidered. It had been quite lonely since she'd returned to Arcturus after that clusterfuck on Horizon, and then being shuttled to Fehl Prime…granted, she was beyond grateful for the promotion, but she still felt a hollow void in her gut. She wasn't exactly in a position to turn down a potential friendship.

"All right," she agreed after a moment. "Shoot."

"Now?" James asked incredulously, pushing the last bits of his food into a pile for consumption.

Sam shrugged. "If not now, maybe some other time then."

The marine scooped the last of his surprise loaf into his mouth, swallowing happily and glancing at his omni tool. "No, let's stick with now," he said, looking back up at the O.C. "I'm supposed to go to a party in the colony. Wanna join?"

Sam chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She hadn't been off base since she'd arrived with Delta Squad, having instead thrown herself into her work, breaking only to get in touch with Daniel or when Alliance regs demanded it. Finally, she nodded.

"All right," she told him slowly. "I think I'd like that."

James raised his eyebrows. "You need it, more like. I've seen you around the comm room – you're the first one there and the last one to leave."

"Not much else around here for an egghead lesbian like myself to do but work," she shrugged, sipping at the water.

Vega couldn't help a laugh. "There's a whole world outside of base! You never know what you might find."

"I guess we'll see tonight," she raised a brow.

"That we will," he nodded, checking the time again. "Meet me at the northeast checkpoint in ten minutes."

"Roger that, Vega," she responded, suddenly a bit excited at the prospect of doing something besides battling VIs in chess all night.

xxx

It had only taken Sam a few minutes to change into her Alliance-appointed liberty uniform. Liberty wasn't quite as lenient as leave, despite the name. Although they'd been granted to permission to depart from base for the night, they were still representatives of the Alliance, which meant dressing and behaving accordingly.

"Here she is!" Vega called, opening his broad arms as Sam saluted the deck master on her way out of the base.

"She is here," agreed Sam, smirking and striding towards the marine. "So, where are we headed?"

"Just a quick walk," he told her, already leading the way. "I was stationed on Fehl Prime before – a couple years ago," he added with a shrug. "Made some friends along the way. Truth be told, I was glad to be assigned back here. I've been off-base to visit a couple times since."

Sam nodded, looking around as they went. It had the same sort of design as most ICUPE colonies: branching walkways leading to different neighborhoods full of prefabs that all looked the same – some detailed landscaping here and there. She would've been lying if it didn't tug at her heart a little, conjuring images of her home on Horizon.

Former home, she reminded herself. The past few months had been a roller coaster – mostly downhill. More often than not, Sam found it completely impossible to sleep at night. On the rare occasion that she was able to drift off, she awoke violently and dripping in sweat. In her nightmares, she watched both of her parents as they were taken by the Collectors, and finally Daniel, ripped from her own hands and incapacitated in one of those horrid pods-

"Hey, stay with me," Vega leaned down, grabbing Sam's elbow gently.

She swallowed and blinked, unaware that her steps had slowed. "Sorry," she murmured, matching his pace again.

James looked at her expectantly. Realizing she wasn't going to continue, he spoke instead. "I get it, Traynor."

The young woman looked at him quizzically.

"C'mon, you know gossip," he shrugged. Her eyebrows shot up, and he held up his hands. "Hey, I never participated, but I got ears, you know? I…well, I heard about Horizon."

The last word hung in the air for a few beats.

"Oh." It was all Sam could bring herself to say.

"Hey," he stopped walking and gently grabbed her shoulder. "Nobody knows the details," he leaned down to meet her eyes. "But I gotta tell you – no matter what, you're a hero in the Alliance's eyes."

Sam swallowed, forcing herself to continue meeting Vega's gaze.

"Yeah," he nodded, seeing the disbelief. "You know, soldiers talk," he shrugged, looking off over her shoulder before meeting her eyes again. "But, when they talk about you…well, you should know the talk is good."

Sam ducked her head, blushing in spite of herself. She wasn't sure whether James was telling her the truth or just trying to get her to walk faster, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

"Thanks, James," she said, looking up again.

He clapped her shoulder. "Don't go all soft on me now! You're the Guardian of Horizon!"

Sam blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You know us marine types, we like exciting nicknames."

"The…Guardian of Horizon?"

"Yep," James affirmed, continuing toward the party. Sam fell in step alongside him. "Not sure who came up with it, but it just kind of stuck."

The young woman stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Finally, she smacked him on the shoulder. "You're so full of shit!"

"I'm not!" Vega cried out, throwing his arms up. "Seriously – ask any of the Deltas; they'll all tell you the same thing."

Sam hummed suspiciously. "I'm gonna take you up on that."

James was unfazed. "You should," he shrugged, leading her down a walkway to a prefab that was bustling with activity.

They approached the front door and James tapped at the call button. A second later, a gentle beeping invited the couple to announce themselves.

"Second Lieutenant Vega reporting for party duty!" he shouted into the comm. The door slid open, admitting them to the prefab.

"James!" Two female voices sounded simultaneously. Sam watched from the background as two young women approached the marine and hugged him enthusiastically.

"Rebecca and Amy, my two favorite colony urchins!" he embraced the young women happily. Pulling away, he gestured at his companion. "This is my friend, Sam – the most talented Communications Specialist the Alliance has ever seen!" he boasted, grinning broadly at the O.C.

Sam tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. "James has a knack for exaggerating my accomplishments," she told them, extending a hand towards Rebecca, who shook it eagerly. Sam placed her at about 16 years old before shifting her glance and extending her hand towards Amy.

"Well I, personally, am inclined to believe his claims," the older blonde said; Sam guessed she was only a couple years younger than herself. "It's a pleasure to meet The Guardian of Horizon. I have to say," she pulled the O.C. a little closer and smiled, "I feel safer already with you here in our humble colony."

"Oh!" Sam cried in surprise, feeling a touch of heat in her cheeks. "Thank you," she swallowed. "I'm glad my legendary reputation has preceded me. Although let's not test that – otherwise you might discover that I'm actually quite awkward and incompetent."

"I doubt that very much," Amy responded in a quiet tone, holding Sam's gaze with her dark brown eyes a couple beats before releasing her hand. "Come now – follow us to the booze!" She threw up a triumphant hand and led the guests into the prefab where the party was already underway.

Sam gaped at James, who only looked back at her with his brows raised.

"Oh, did I not mention that Amy is an attractive and eligible lesbian?"

Sam bared her teeth and punched Vega's shoulder halfheartedly.

"Easy, easy," he told her, holding up his hands in surrender as they waded through knots of partygoers. "You should talk to her – you've got a lot in common."

"Oh?" Sam challenged.

"Yeah! See, Amy's been taking care of Rebecca for a couple years now. Their parents were miners – they were taken by slavers when they were out on a job."

"Ah," she nodded slowly. "The classic 'orphan connection,' is that it?" she asked, perhaps a little more sharply than she intended.

"Hey," James stopped mid-stride to look at his friend.

"I'm sorry," Sam tilted her head, meeting his eyes. "I just…I haven't quite gotten used to it."

Vega shrugged his massive shoulders. "You might not ever."

Samantha chewed her lip thoughtfully and gazed at him a moment. "Thanks."

"For what?" his brows drew together.

"Knowing that it might never be okay."

He nodded after a moment, looking away as Amy reappeared.

"I hope you don't mind," she intoned, passing a glass of wine to the Brit. "I sort of guessed you might like this…" the blonde trailed off hopefully.

Sam took a sniff at the wine before bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. Her eyebrows raised a bit at the subtle hints of chocolate and raspberries. She raised the glass again, drinking more deeply this time.

Amy's smile stretched across her face, and she turned to Vega. "I think the lady likes it!"

"So it would seem," he concurred, accepting the tequila bottle that Rebecca handed him. "Now, let's see how hard she can go."

"Easy, Vega," Sam chimed in, lowering the wine glass and savoring the taste. "We've only just arrived – or do you just want to get me pissed so you can ditch me without my notice?"

The massive marine grinned, spinning off the cap to the tequila bottle and taking a swig.

"Definitely not, Traynor."

"Well, if he does decide to ditch you, I'll happily fill in," Amy said, taking a sip of wine without breaking eye contact with Sam.

"You are quite the hostess," the O.C. replied nervously, a tint of red coloring her dusky cheeks.

A chime sounded on Amy's omni tool, audible over the music and murmur of conversation. The blonde glanced down and tapped at a blinking icon, calling up a security vid of the front door of the prefab.

"Treeya's here!" she announced, wiggling her eyebrows at James, who immediately flushed a deep scarlet.

"You didn't tell me she was coming!" The marine's voice seemed to have gone up in pitch.

Sam gaped slightly, looking between the two. "I think I'm missing something."

"You really are," agreed Rebecca.

"James, why don't you fill in the pretty woman while I tend to the door?" Amy grinned devilishly before vanishing through a knot of people.

Sam turned to him expectantly, a little smile playing on her face.

"It's no one- I mean, nothing!" James corrected himself. "Treeya is nothing- I mean, no one. Ay dios," the marine clapped a hand over his eyes.

"Treeya's an asari researcher – she works in the labs here," Rebecca filled in. "We all met back in '82 when James and some other Alliance dudes helped us fight off a bunch of Blood Pack assholes. I think they were trying to raid the labs or something?" she frowned, tapping at her lips before waving her hand. "Anyway, doesn't matter, they all ended up dead. The point is…" the young girl grinned, "James here has quite the crush on her."

The marine glared at Rebecca before turning to Sam. "She's being a dramatic teenager. The girls just- oh, hey Treeya," he broke off as asari and host approached them.

"James," she inclined her head. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"Yeah, you too," he nodded with feigned nonchalance.

"I'm Samantha," the O.C. told Treeya.

"Treeya Nuwani," the asari responded, holding out a hand. Having been surrounded by humans for quite sometime, she was more than familiar with their unique customs.

Sam accepted her hand and shook it firmly, surprised at how cool her skin was.

Then again, it's not as if I've touched many asari. Hey…now there's a thought, she mused before groaning inwardly. God, I need to get laid.

"What were you folks talking about?" Amy asked, cocking her head to the side and smiling like she was hiding a secret.

"I was just telling Sam here about how we all met!" Rebecca covered.

"Oh yeah, that shit was crazy," the blonde said, looking at Sam. "Blood Pack bastards. Treeya's biotics did a number on them; it helps that she trained as an asari commando," she added, raising an eyebrow at Treeya before continuing. "Oh, and I guess James here saved some asses, too – not mine of course. I held my own."

"It's true," James affirmed. "Amy kicked ass."

"Not as much as the Guardian of Horizon, I'm sure," the blonde responded, turning the conversation back to Sam.

"Oh!" she cried out in surprise. "No, no," Sam shook her head. "That epithet makes me sound much more impressive than I am."

"Hey man, don't sell yourself short," James told her seriously. "You're damn good at what you do."

"It is true," interjected Treeya for the first time. "Even I heard whisperings of your accomplishments, all the way down in my windowless lab."

Sam blushed again. Bloody hell, can I just stay a normal color for one hour tonight? she chided herself.

"And you really pull off that uniform," Amy added, raising her brows. Sam's color deepened and she hurriedly lifted her glass to her lips in an effort to hide it.

"Amen to that," agreed Vega, taking another sip of tequila.

"Ugh, James, don't be a perv," Rebecca swiped at his shoulder and rolled her eyes.

"What!" he cried, gesturing at Amy. "This one can say whatever she wants, but I'm the sick one?"

"Yeah, pretty much," the young girl grinned. "Anyway," she turned to Treeya. "Would you like something to drink?"

"That would be lovely," the asari responded.

"Right this way!" Rebecca said happily, leading Treeya toward the kitchen.

Suddenly, a crisp chirping began emitting from both Vega's and Sam's omni tools. Looking at the incoming message they groaned in unison.

"So much for a fun night out," Sam pouted.

"We should've known better," agreed James. He turned his attention to Amy and pulled her into a farewell hug. "I'll make it up to you."

"You'd better," she answered as she released him.

"I'll catch you outside," he told Sam, setting off through the growing crowd of partygoers.

"I hope to see you again, too," Amy said, taking a step towards the O.C.

"I would like that," Sam responded with a nervous swallow. The blonde smiled momentarily before leaning in.

It happened so quickly that Sam didn't register the kiss until it was already happening. After regaining her composure, she relaxed into it, idly wondering how long it had been since she'd kissed someone.

Amy pulled away and met Sam's gaze, her eyes twinkling. "Maybe we can pick up where we left off."

"Y-yes," the O.C. stammered, trying to play it cool. "We'll…make it a date," she added, a subtle flush on her neck.

"Perfect," the blonde told her. "I'll see you later, Guardian of Horizon."

Sam groaned. "By then you'll have probably realized that's utter bullshit," she smiled in spite of herself before turning around and heading after Vega.

xxx

Rejoining the marine outside of the prefab, Sam took in a deep gulp of air, steadying herself.

"So, that was a long goodbye," James said slyly, raising his eyebrows at the O.C.

"Oh, come off it," Sam murmured, unable to help a grin.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the look on her face.

"Nothing," she clipped, falling into step with him as they made their way back to base.

"What happened?" he prodded.

"Nothing!" she insisted even as her smile grew.

"You are so full of it, chica."

"Fine," Sam whined. "Fine. We kissed, that's all."

"Woo-hoo!" Vega hooted victoriously, throwing his hands into the air. "That's. My. Girl!" He punctuated every word with a playful punch to Sam's shoulder.

"Oh my god," the O.C. covered her eyes in embarrassment, "you're making a scene."

"Worth it. Man! I knew it, as soon as we got there. The way Amy was looking-"

The chirping of their omni tools cut off his sentence. He grunted in frustration, opening up the comm link.

"Vega!" he barked.

"Where the hell are you guys?" It was Essex, a member of Delta Squad.

"We're on our way back – I already responded to the summons, pendejo," James retorted.

"Make it double-time." Sam frowned at the urgency in Essex's voice. "You know I can't give you specifics on an unsecured channel, so hurry the fuck up and get to the comm room."

Glancing at each other, James and Sam broke into a fast jog, arriving quickly back at base. Hurriedly saluting the deck master as they reentered, they made their way immediately to the comm room, which was located several stories beneath the hangar. The depth allowed for protection in the event of hostile groundside forces, and the proximity to the hangar provided rapid evacuation in an emergency.

"Vega. Traynor." Captain Toni greeted them.

"Captain," they responded in unison before joining the rest of Delta Squad at the table.

"Communications have gone dark," he informed them immediately. "We are unable to get any signal off-world. Our comms technicians have identified a jamming signal on the colony outskirts." As he spoke, he tapped in several commands at a terminal, calling up a map of the colony with a red blinking dot indicating the position of the jamming signal.

At her own terminal, Sam flipped through a couple menus to access the communications signal logs.

"Sir, are we certain the jamming signal is what's prohibiting our off-world communications?" her eyes were scanning rapidly over the display.

"That is what the data gathered by our technicians indicates, yes," Captain Toni frowned. "It's a jamming signal, Traynor – what else would it do?" he couldn't help but add.

"It's just that…" she began, feeling slightly flustered when she looked up to see all eyes on her. "Well, when a mid- or long-range signal is being jammed or blocked, you get a dampening in the amplitude of the frequency oscillation."

Toni looked back at her blankly.

"If I may, sir?" she indicated the display, and he nodded in response. Tapping in a couple commands, the map of the colony shifted to a projection of what she had been viewing on her terminal. "Above, here, is an example of a long-range communication signal that is transmitting without a problem. On the bottom, the signal has been jammed." The Deltas could now see what she meant – the peaks and valleys of the frequency were much smaller in the jammed signal.

"This is what I'm seeing in the logs from the past twenty minutes," she punched in another string of commands, projecting the data next to the graphs.

James frowned and leaned forward. "It looks more like the unjammed signal."

"Exactly," she nodded at him. "The logs show that although our signal is not transmitting optimally, it's still transmitting. Based on the absolute values I can approximate with 98% confidence that our broadcast is in comparable range of a normal signal," she met the captain's eyes. A knot began to form in her stomach as she spoke her next words. "I believe the data indicates that the communication relay is the problem, not the original transmission."

"Wait, wait. So you think-" James started slowly.

"Yes," she looked at him seriously. She could tell from the subtle pale of his complexion that he understood the significance. "I think something has taken out the comm buoys."

There was a tense but brief silence.

"No," Captain Toni stated resolutely. "That would require collision with a ship or, at the least, the discharge of a very large weapon. Our scans do not indicate anything out of the ordinary in or near Fehl Prime vicinity."

Whatever destroyed the comm buoys is likely capable of fooling our scanners, she snapped in her head. Cognizant of her rank, however, she merely nodded and called back the projections. In a few moments, the colony map had reappeared.

"We will proceed with the initial assessment that the jamming signal is blocking off-world transmissions," he turned his attention to the rest of the squad. Sam maintained a neutral face, despite the growing sick feeling in her gut. If her instinct about the comm buoys was right, then whatever had taken out their communications was likely fabricating the jamming signal.

Which means it's a trap, she thought before she could stop herself.

"You will travel to within one klick of the jamming location in the M35 Mako and thereafter proceed on foot. Vega, you will take point. Traynor will remain here and monitor communications as well as provide confirmation as to whether or not off-world signal transmission is restored following destruction of the jamming signal."

Sam nodded, biting back another comment.

"Vega, Treeya will be joining as well. Preliminary scans indicate that the jamming signal is in close proximity of an artifact of unknown origin. She is already in the hangar preparing to depart."

"Yes, sir," James responded. Sam supposed the asari had been summoned when she was off with Rebecca. Vega's face meanwhile remained completely neutral. Sam had learned that night that he could be quite playful off-duty, but on-duty he was every inch a professional.

"Let's get this taken care of nice and quick," the captain made eye contact with each of them. "Dismissed."

The soldiers of Delta Squad rushed off to the equipment lockers to get suited up. On his way from the comm room, James placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Keep an eye on me out there."

"I'll be there every step of the way," she told him, perhaps too seriously; she couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

"Good." He nodded in return, clapping her once before stepping past and jogging through the door.

Sam moved to her station, which was equipped with a moderately comfortable chair and three consoles – one narrow console on her left, and two larger consoles side-by-side in front of her. She tucked her ear pieces in her respective ears – the left ear bud picked up comm chatter on the open channel, and the right was for direct communication with any squad member. The narrow console allowed her to toggle through squad members and select just one or all of them, depending on what was needed.

The middle consoles could display a variety of data. Her preferred setup was to keep a map of the mission area, complete with live updates of troop movements and communication signals. The other screen provided more detailed data of an area on the map, and otherwise displayed a running log of regional communications in real time if she didn't have anything specific selected.

Anyone but Samantha or another highly-trained Communications Specialist might take one look at her station and become cross-eyed from data overload. But the Brit wasn't promoted to Operations Chief from Serviceman for nothing; she could glance at the consoles and give an instant report of virtually any information needed. If a squad member's positioning system should fail, Sam could look at the communication lag and accurately approximate their location. Based on unique signatures, she was able to immediately identify the communications hardware and software used by both allied and hostile forces. If her terminal was equipped with 3D signal analysis software – as this terminal was – she could even determine the direction from which signal interference originated, in the event that communications or scanners were blocked. Her hands-on familiarity with the equipment was part of what had made her an invaluable asset when she was in R&D.

In short, Vega had been right when he'd said she was damn good at her job.

Once settled, Sam selected the open channel on the narrow console. "Delta Squad, this is O.C. Traynor testing open channel communications. Please confirm."

"We hear you loud and clear." A slightly tinny rendition of Vega's voice piped into her left ear bud.

"Copy that," she responded. "Commencing test of individual frequencies." Sam systematically selected through the squad members and confirmed that the private channels were working as well. Noticing that she did not have a direct link to the asari, she patched back to the open channel.

"Treeya, it seems I'm unable to access your unique frequency. Can you read me the CID that's listed on your omni tool?"

The asari recited a couple letters followed by a string of numbers. Scrutinizing the console, Sam swiftly identified the signal emitted by the asari's omni tool and manually synthesized a connection.

"Establishing communication link," Sam's voice sounded over the open channel as the Mako took off toward the outskirts.

"Yes, I hear you," Treeya said after a few beats, subconsciously reaching up to her own ear bud. James hadn't heard Sam over the open channel and assumed she'd arranged a direct line with the asari.

The marine turned his attention to a small screen on the side of the vehicle, idly watching the live display of the plan position indicator. The PPI was nowhere as detailed as the information that Sam could access, but it allowed them to detect immediate threats in their area.

The comm chatter was minimal as the Mako rolled out of the colony proper and through the rocky, undeveloped landscape that surrounded the settled region. The silence was broken only by timed interval reports of their coordinates and visual observations, both of which were relayed by their tech specialist, Nicky.

Back in the comm room, Sam silently watched the movement indicators on her screen, eyes occasionally flickering over to streaming data logs. Captain Toni was equally quiet behind her, staring at the holographic Combat Data Projection over the center of the table.

"Target indicator is approximately 1.5 klicks from current position," Nicky's voice spoke into the open comm earpieces both Sam and Toni wore. "Slowing approach…" Several moments passed before Nicky spoke again. "Target indicator is just over one klick. We are departing the Mako and proceeding on foot."

There was some faint rustling as, Sam supposed, Treeya and the Deltas left the Mako and arranged their gear.

"Traynor, I'm flipping on the MPPI," Nicky told her through his direct line. "Standby."

"Copy that," she confirmed, narrowing the region of her display and flipping through several selection menus on her right-most console. In a matter of moments, the Mobile Plan Position Indicator appeared on the screen, an abbreviated log of its readings appearing directly below the display.

"Please confirm link." The voice piped up in her ear bud once more.

"Looks good, Nicky," she responded. "What ranges am I looking at here?"

"I've got the radius set to 200 meters. Frequency range is the target signal plus or minus 150 kilohertz."

"Copy."

Sam watched their position indicators on her satellite map as they swiftly approached the target indicator. Nicky rattled off their distance from the target every 100 hundred meters. When they had reached 200 meters from the target, a small blip appeared on the feed from the MPPI, indicating the jamming signal.

Vega's voice piped up on the open comm.

"Essex and Kamille, proceed to within fifty meters at the southern flanking position. Milque, head up to that ridge and cover the rest of us on the direct approach."

There was a soft chorus of ayes, and Sam looked back over her shoulder to see the captain nodding in approval. A few tense minutes passed before Vega came back over the comm.

"We have a visual of the artifact," he informed the group. "It looks like some kind of pillar – I could make out some strange inscriptions on the binocs. Treeya's looking now."

"The script is Prothean." The wonder in the asari's voice was evident even over the comm.

"Traynor, you seeing anything weird?" Vega asked, referring to her satellite map.

"Not anything Nicky's MPPI isn't showing," she responded, but that uneasy feeling grew in her gut yet again.

A Prothean artifact and a fabricated jamming signal suddenly appear at the same time? She bit the inside of her lip.

"Be careful, Vega," Sam all but whispered, still staring at her display. "I've got a bad feeling-"

Before she could finish her sentence, her satellite map vanished and was replaced by a red text box.

CONNECTION LOST. REESTABLISH SATELLITE LINK.

Sam gasped and cried out, fingers immediately flying over her console as she tried to determine the nature of the disconnect. Behind her, Captain Toni gaped at the empty space the holographic projection had occupied only a second before. After a few moments, Sam shot to her feet, pressing a hand against the open comm ear bud.

"ABORT, VEGA!" She commanded him, turning around to meet the captain's eyes. "I repeat, abort the mission and return to the Mako!"

"What the fuck is going on?!" he shouted back over the open channel. "The jamming signal vanished right before the MPPI stopped functioning!"

"I don't know, but something took out my satellite," Sam told him hurriedly, "just like it took out the comm buoys. I think the signal was fabricated, James-"

"Vega, get the fuck out of there!" Captain Toni interjected before Sam could finish explaining. On the open channel, Vega began shouting orders of retreat to the Deltas.

Just outside the comm room and elsewhere on the base, klaxons blared to life. All communications on the open channel severed, and Vega's voice cut out. Sam paled and dropped her hand from her ear, her wide eyes meeting Toni's.

"Who's on deck?" he asked her urgently.

Sam's mouth worked wordlessly. All rational thought had fled her mind, save one.

Not the Collectors. Not again.

"Traynor!" Toni rushed over and grabbed her forearm.

"Uh-um," she stammered, swallowing and searching her memory. "Paxton!" Sam exclaimed, recalling his face as she saluted him when hurrying back to base.

The captain nodded and looked down at his omni tool, attempting to raise the Serviceman on his omni tool. General broadcast communications were going haywire, but peer-to-peer communications operated on a different system.

"Captain Toni!" Sam heard Paxton's voice from the man's omni tool.

"What's the sitrep?" he snapped.

"They're everywhere, landing in the colony proper by the hundreds!"

"Who, Paxton?"

"The Collectors, sir." The Serviceman's voice hitched. "They're here."

Toni looked up to Sam, who was slowly shaking her head and backing away.

The wailing of the alarms, which seemed to have quieted as she watched the captain, came roaring back in full force. Samantha shut her eyes, blood pounding in her ears. She had suddenly been thrust back to the abduction on Horizon, and she leaned hard against the back of her chair.

"Traynor, I need you to hail Vega!" Somewhere in the distance someone was calling out to her.

Was it Daniel? Williams?

Her mind was hazy, and the taste of bile rose up in her throat. Turning to the side and leaning on her knees, she doubled over and wretched.

"Traynor, hail Vega!" The voice was closer now. Sam closed her eyes harder, feeling a burning heat behind her eyelids.

Suddenly, strong arms grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her upright.

"I gave you a goddamn order, Traynor!"

Hearing an edge of warning in the mysterious voice, her subconscious training kicked in and she snapped into a salute.

"Yes, sir," she responded, even as her vision began to clear. Captain Toni was looking into her eyes seriously. She swallowed and steadied herself. "Yes, Captain," she said, nodding at him in response to his unspoken question.

A seasoned veteran, the captain was no stranger to post-traumatic stress disorder. Nearly every soldier he knew had it. While it was unusual for a servicemember who worked in Intelligence to experience it, but he knew what Sam had gone through. The Guardian of Horizon, he'd heard them call her - a hero's nickname.

But those usually came at a high price.

"Good," he clapped her shoulder and returned to his call with Paxton, trying to get as many details as possible. Sam turned away, swiping at her eyes before trying to establish a link to Vega's omni tool.

She watched her own omni tool intently, a soft chirp beeping twice when the call connected.

"Traynor what's going on?" the marine's voice was frantic. "I can't raise Essex, Kamille, or Milque; we've completely lost contact."

"It's the Collectors, James," Sam responded, forcing herself to stay focused on the present. "They're in the colony, hundreds of them. You need to get back here-"

Vega swore, and the Brit could hear him relaying the information to, she presumed, Nicky and Treeya, who had been with him on the direct approach.

"We've gotta find the other Deltas," Vega's voice was still frantic. "Nicky, you-"

"No time, Lieutenant!" Toni appeared by Sam's side, shouting into her omni tool. "You need to get back to the colony stat."

There was a tense silence before Vega's voice piped back in.

"Aye, sir."

"Keep your link with Traynor open," the captain told him. "We're flying blind in here – whatever they're doing has disabled almost everything."

"James," Sam spoke up. "I need you to give me constant updates. I'll relay what I can to Arcturus via QEC – from there they can mobilize an evacuation and defense fleet."

"It's tedious, but it's all we've got right now," Toni sighed wearily into Sam's omni tool. "Hang in there, James."

"You too, Captain." Vega's response was somber.

"I'm sorry, Sam," the captain turned his attention to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll lock down everything on my way out. As soon as evac gets here, we'll get you out, but we need those communications now."

"Aye, sir," she swallowed. She felt an uncharacteristically strong urge to grab the nearest assault rifle and mow down every Collector she could find, but if she didn't coordinate with Arcturus, nobody would make it out alive.

"You can do this, Sam," he clapped her on the shoulder before heading out of the comm room. She went over as the door slid shut and entered her authorization code to seal the door. The alarms dampened to almost nothing.

She returned to her station, rifling through several menus to link her omni tool with one of the consoles.

"We're approaching the Mako," James's voice piped up from her station.

"Vega, can you feed me your video?" she asked, already moving to open the quantum entanglement communications with Arcturus.

"You got it," he responded a breath before his video feed popped up on her console.

"Visual communications established," she reported, typing away her initial message to Arcturus.

Because of the enormous energy and expense required for QEC, it was impractical (and impossible, for a military base of their small size) to send video or even audio over QEC; far more data could be sent via simple text.

"We're in the Mako headed back to the colony," James informed her. Sam's eyes flickered back to the console with his video feed – based on the angle of the image, she presumed that he was piloting the vehicle.

There were several moments of silence as Sam tapped away her message to Arcturus, flagging it as urgent before sending it.

"Holy shit!" Vega's cry broke the quiet.

"What?" Samantha peered anxiously at the display. The quality was poor, however, and she couldn't make out anything beyond a short distance in front of the marine.

"The Collector ship – it's fucking massive."

The bile rose up again in Sam's throat, and she shut her eyes against a wave of dizziness.

As if reading the silence, James spoke again.

"Traynor…are you doin' okay?"

She nodded, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't see her.

"Yeah," she opened her eyes. "I'm- yeah."

A gentle beep from her console drew her attention. It was a response from Arcturus, requesting further details and informing her that they were mobilizing the Second Fleet, the Alliance's top colony defense fleet.

She exhaled a sigh of relief. "Arcturus is sending the Second Fleet."

Vega whistled. "We must really be in deep shit."

Samantha smiled at his attempted levity, sending what little information she had to Arcturus before standing from her station and approaching the table in the middle, calling up a display of the closed circuit security cameras they had throughout the colony.

"We're approaching the colony proper," James reported. In the background, she could hear him ordering Nicky to man the weapons systems.

"Be careful, Vega," Sam warned from the table. "I've got the security feeds up – there are Collectors posted at the borders."

"To keep people from leaving," Treeya's quiet voice came over the comm.

"There's a cluster at twelve o'clock.".

"I got 'em." Nicky spoke in the background.

The communications were punctuated by the sounds of gunfire for several seconds before James whooped.

"Take that, assholes."

Sam looked back at his video feed, spotting the Collector bodies as the Mako rolled past them. The vehicle came to a stop, and she watched as the door swung open and James jumped down.

"We're departing the Mako and proceeding into the colony on foot," he told Sam. "What's the status of the Second Fleet?"

Samantha glanced at the clocks on the wall. "They should arrive in the next 30."

"Good. Hey, can you see anything on those cameras?" Vega read off their coordinates.

Samantha selected the security feeds in their region and pulled them up.

"Yeah, I've got eyes on your area."

"We should try and make our way to the evac point to clear it."

"James," Treeya cut in. "I can attempt to infiltrate the ship – perhaps there is data on there that could help us-"

"Are you crazy? That's a good fucking way to get yourself killed."

"Vega," Nicky's voice was insistent. "There could be intel on there – shit that could stop this from happening again."

"No, it's too risky."

"James, I was trained for this," the asari snapped, reminding him of her commando training. "We can't pass up this opportunity."

On the video feed, Sam could see that James had turned away from the others. After a moment, he turned back.

"Fine." He huffed in resignation. "Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Get us a path to that dreadnought."

Sam called up a colony map and pulled back all of the available security footage. Scrutinizing the feeds, she traced a route down which they would encounter the least resistance to the ship.

"Alright, Vega, proceed west for two blocks and then north-northwest for four."

"Copy."

Samantha watched Vega's live feed anxiously. The path she'd chosen was fairly clear, and the group only encountered a few foot soldiers as they progressed. Looking back at the security feeds, she rattled off a few more directions to Vega before calling back all of the footage from the adjacent areas to determine their next steps.

"Bloody hell!" she suddenly swore.

"What's going on?"

Sam shushed him. "About a dozen of them just appeared, half a block northeast of your location." On her console, she could see James motioning to Nicky and Treeya before edging carefully in that direction. A large group of Collectors came into view on his feed just before he jerked back into cover.

"Fuck!" His voice was high-pitched.

"I can get you around them," Samantha whispered urgently.

"It's not that. Those bastards- they've got Amy and Rebecca."

Sam's mouth ran dry. She peered at the security footage, and could indeed make out two immobilized bodies being lowered into pods.

"Sam," the marine said after a moment, his voice pleading.

"No, James," the Brit responded. "There are far too many of them. You-" she faltered for a moment. "You have to leave them."

There were a couple beats of silence before Vega requested further instruction and Sam obliged.

After several more minutes of swift but careful progress, the dreadnought came into view on Vega's video feed and the asari's voice piped up.

"I will proceed in alone. Keep an open link with me, and I'll inform you when I'm ready to rendezvous."

"Fine. Nicky and I will move back into the colony until then."

Sam listened while Vega established communications with Treeya, watching on his feed as she moved toward the ship before melting into the shadows.

"Alright, Traynor," it sounded as if James was gritting his teeth. "Point me in their direction. I need something to kill."

Over the next twenty minutes, Sam used the security footage to direct Nicky and Vega to manageable pockets of Collector foot soldiers. She watched the footage with dread; no matter how many fell beneath their boots, there were still hundreds and hundreds more, and they were abducting colonists by the dozens.

"Where do all these fuckers keep coming from?" Vega was incredulous.

"They're certainly persistent," Nicky agreed; Sam could hear the ratchet of a heat sink being popped from a rifle.

A gentle chime from her omni tool drew her attention.

"Captain?" she answered the call.

"Traynor, a small contingent from the Second Fleet has arrived and the first shuttles are touching down," Toni informed her. "I need you to get to the hanger as soon as possible."

"A small contingent?" Sam was in disbelief. "Command made it sound like they were sending the whole fucking fleet!"

"Negative. I don't know what happened, but they only sent evacuation shuttles. You are to proceed to the hangar for evacuation immediately, as is Delta Squad."

Sam grit her teeth. "Aye, sir."

"Move quickly, Traynor. Toni out."

"What was that?" Vega piped up.

"Arcturus only sent evacuation shuttles," she told him, gritting her teeth once more. She moved to a small emergency weapons locker, entering her authorization code. The locker door slid open.

"What? How the fuck are we supposed to take that ship down without reinforcements?"

"We're not," the Brit responded, pulling out a pistol and clipping it to her belt. She slid several thermal clips into her pockets before hauling out an assault rifle and cocking it. "Toni ordered us to the hangar for immediate evac."

"Us? You mean Delta, too?"

"Yes." Sam moved back to her console, shutting it down. She peered up at the security footage to determine what she'd encounter on her way to the hangar. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn't see any of those bug-things she'd seen on Horizon. In fact, she hadn't seen any since she'd first called up the security footage when Vega had returned to the colony proper. She supposed that after the bug-things made an initial sweep through the colony, they were no longer needed; from what she'd heard in meetings, they were meant to immobilize humans to make abduction easier. In any event, it meant she was in significantly less danger without a hard suit.

"Treeya's still in the ship!" Vega protested. In the background, Sam could hear him trying to raise her. After a few moments his voice came over her comm again.

"Treeya, you've got to get out of there," he spoke urgently. She could hear the asari respond but couldn't make out the words. "They're sending us to the hangar for evac." A pause, and then, "No, they didn't send reinforcements, just evac shuttles…I don't know."

Vega snarled in frustration, making Sam jump. His voice was more direct when he came over the comm again.

"Treeya got the intel, but she can't make her way out without assistance."

"I can ask Toni to send an extraction team your way-"

"No! That means even fewer people to evacuate the surviving colonists," he snapped. Sam heard something slam in the background. "Fuck!"

"Vega," Nicky cut in. "We need that intel. You heard Treeya – you know what she's got."

Sam moved to the door as she attempted to hail Captain Toni.

"James, you and Nicky are going to retrieve Treeya. I will arrange a team that will extract you to evac," she told him sternly.

"You can't give me an order-"

"I just did," Sam cut him off before switching her link to the captain, informing him of the situation. After a brief exchange, she ended the call and spoke to James again.

"Captain Toni is sending three men to the dreadnaught, so you'd bloody well better get a move on!"

"Fuck you, Traynor," James spat. Sam knew he was upset because she was right - he didn't have to listen to her, of course, but he knew he had to make a choice. "Fuck! Come on, Nicky," she heard him snap.

"I'll meet you at evac."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered.

Muting the call without cutting it, Sam tapped in her authorization code to unseal the door. The indicator switched to green and she activated it, moving through the exit. She paused for a moment to gather her bearings, closing her eyes and breathing deeply - there was only one path to the hangar. She opened her eyes and steeled herself before edging around the corner and raising the rifle's sight to her eye.


A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm working on the next installment! But you don't have to worry too much - our favorite comm specialist obviously makes it out alive!

Thank you SO much to those who reviewed. To answer a question from fishbone76, I place Daniel at about 18 years old - 5/6 years younger than Sam. I'm inclined to agree that there aren't enough Sam/Shep stories. Maybe I'll add mine to the ranks...