Adventure is something that happens to someone else. When it's happening to you, it's only trouble. – Gerald Morris, The Ballad of Sir Dinadan

Eschatology – A belief concerning death, the end of the world, or the ultimate destiny of humankind
Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
OIC – Officer in Charge
Siame – "one who is all", a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian)

• CRONOS STATION, ANADIUS · HORSEHEAD NEBULA •

"We may have a problem, Sir," the agent immediately replied. "There's an Alliance admiral here … a Rear Admiral Kahoku. He's sticking his nose into places it doesn't belong."

"What has this admiral done to get your attention, Agent Trace?"

"He's asking a lot of questions about some strange activities in Artemis Tau and … about Armistan Banes."

"If he's still asking questions, then he hasn't discovered anything of value … so far." Pausing long enough to light a cigarette, he inhaled the fragrant smoke and blew it out to hang around him in wispy clouds that quickly dispersed from view. "Monitor him for now … discreetly, and keep me advised. I expect all his inquiries will fall on deaf ears, but if he somehow stumbles onto what we're doing, well …" he left the thought unfinished as he took another drag from his cigarette. "That will be all for now, Agent Trace."

With the connection severed, the man made his way back to the chair, placed to have an excellent view of the dying red supergiant Anadius. As he sat down and crossed one leg over the other, he held up his free hand to receive the whiskey over ice being brought out by the same young woman that had appeared before. He swirled the liquid around just a bit before taking a sip of the golden elixir; smiling grimly, the Illusive Man continued to sip as he thought about Admiral Kahoku. The man had fought the batarians with distinction during the Skyllian Blitz; if he could not be dissuaded from continuing his current line of inquiry … it would be a damned shame to have to engineer a fatal accident to prevent him from learning too much, too soon.

• SERRICE HOSPITAL, THESSIA · PARNITHA · ATHENA NEBULA •

It had been twelve days since Doctor Shakia had predicted Xiùlán would be discharged from the hospital and transferred to the rehabilitation center. It had taken a lot of hard, at times painful work during her final twelve days in the hospital, but she was now walking with the aid of a cane; the doctor expected she would be able to occasionally walk without the cane after five weeks—though she certainly wouldn't be able to run just yet—and that she'd be healed enough to walk unaided at the end of her eight week stay in rehab.

She had said a tearful goodbye to Service Chief Buchanan four days prior; he had wrapped his arms around her in a near bone-crushing hug, telling her he was going to miss her terribly, and was looking forward to working with her again … soon. For her part, Xiùlán had asked how she was ever going to find him, since she could no longer mention a knife scar on his face as a distinguishing mark; he had laughed at that, saying his size would nearly always stand out in most people's minds.

Samantha Traynor had walked with him to meet the diplomatic shuttlecraft from the Citadel, in part to see him off, but also to greet and escort human Ambassador Anita Goyle back to the hospital; there she would have a brief meeting with Xiùlán and Sammy, after which she'd travel to Armali to attend a meeting of the Matriarchal Forum with Minister of Antiquities Matriarch Elesia.

The ambassador had returned from that meeting the previous day, in enough time to go on a short sight-seeing tour around Serrice Hospital accompanied by Traynor and Maracela T'Rhyn; Goyle had thoroughly enjoyed seeing the sights, sampling the local cuisine and shopping for souvenirs.

It was just Xiùlán and Sammy with Goyle at breakfast; assured by Sammy that there was no electronic eavesdropping within the small executive dining room, Anita broke the news to both as they all enjoyed a mug of freshly brewed Kaffe.

"There's an organization, mostly confined to the Attican Traverse, but also branching into the Terminus Systems, and, …" here she paused for emphasis, "Earth Alliance Space, mostly in the areas contested by the batarians." Looking at Traynor, she added, "You have already been peripherally involved with two of their agents, Ms Traynor … a Darius Holden and a Marianna Walsh, correct?"

Traynor's face erupted in a scowl of loathing at the mention of Heather Gonzales' murderers, prompting a one-word response, spat out, as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth. "Cerberus!"

"Precisely, Ms Traynor … Cerberus." Goyle drained her mug of Kaffe and set it down.

Samantha was lost in thought as Xiùlán asked, "What are they doing now that has the attention of the Alliance, Ms Goyle? Surely they cannot be that much of a threat."

"Your General Park would be a better person to answer that question Ms Yuán, as she has given me few details of all that is currently happening; their stated goal is to make sure humanity is at the top of the galactic food chain, and to hell with the other races. There have been a number of suspicious deaths attributed to Cerberus, all human and all in positions of great power, great influence or both."

Anita looked back at Traynor as she continued, "The hypothesis is that they were responsible for the assassinations of President Enrique Aguilar and Chinese People's Federation Premier Ying Xiong in 2176, and those are only the most recent deaths alleged to have been done on their behalf."

Sammy studied the ambassador closely before saying, "So, when do we leave for the Citadel, Madam Ambassador? General Park must have something in mind for me."

"Indeed she does, Ms Traynor," Anita answered with a grim smile. "Indeed she does."

Anita Goyle had stopped by Xiùlán's new room in the rehabilitation center to find Samantha Traynor, sitting at a table across from Xiùlán, with whom it appeared she was having a quiet discussion; they both looked up together when Goyle entered the room, with Sammy being the first to speak. "Ambassador? We thought you were on your way back to the Citadel."

"I'll be leaving shortly; I delayed my departure in order to be here for the presentation," Goyle responded.

The expressions of puzzlement that appeared on their faces were immediately followed by both asking in unison, "Presentation? What presentation?"

The door behind the ambassador opened again, this time to reveal Minister of Antiquities Matriarch Elesia, accompanied by Maracela T'Rhyn. "Good morning to the three of you!" she said. "I just had to come down from Armali before Ambassador Goyle boards the diplomatic shuttle for her trip back to the Citadel! I have a gift … a thank you present, for each of you." Before anyone could respond, she turned to Maracela, who handed her a flat object wrapped in plain paper. "First, for you, Ms Goyle. This is a certificate of appreciation for your assistance in facilitating the recovery and return of a priceless artifact from the not so distant past. You have proven beyond a doubt that humans can be counted on to do extraordinary things, for no other reason than those deeds are the right things to do." Handing the package to Anita, the asari added, "Thank you, Ambassador, on behalf of the Matriarchal Forum and the Asari Republics."

Goyle bowed slightly as she took the package. "We can never succeed in life unless we're willing to help those in need, Matriarch. I am pleased our assistance was successful."

Turning back towards Maracela, the matriarch was handed one rather large package, magnificently wrapped in gold and silver foil; Maracela, holding another package of similar size and appearance, stepped forward to stand beside Elesia, who directed her attention to both young women. "Service Chief Yuán … Serviceman Traynor … It is my distinct honor to present these to each of you." Elesia handed her package to Xiùlán, while Mara handed hers to Sammy. Each woman carefully removed the beautiful wrapping to reveal an instantly recognizable shape.

Elesia explained, as each was unwrapped, that what they were holding were Asari Songblades, throwing weapons comprised of five individual blades arranged around a central grip; though quite similar to Japanese throwing stars, these were considerably larger in diameter. "These are modern examples of the traditional weapons used by huntress acolytes in pre-technological Thessia. You'll note the patterns of recesses fashioned into the flats of their blades; when in flight, these recesses cause the blades to 'sing', providing auditory focus for a biotic, who can steer their flight utilizing microgravity fields projected onto the blades. These are elegant weapons, from a simpler, more civilized age."

Traynor was completely amazed at the generosity of the asari people; carefully setting her new weapon on the table, she turned to face the antiquities minister and said, "Thank you, Matriarch Elesia. You honor me … honor us both with your gifts."

Xiùlán took Sammy's hand and pulled them both down in a bow as she added, "Thank you, Matriarch. You … and the asari people … are extraordinarily generous."

Goddess … these two have exceedingly good manners. Are all humans so polite, I wonder? She felt her face flush slightly as she returned their bow before turning to Anita Goyle. "Just to remind you, when Ms Yuán is back on her feet, I intend to sponsor her and Ms Traynor as my guests at the Armali Palace Art Gallery so they can see and understand the importance of the piece they have risked life ... and limb ... to recover for us. I will arrange for a private, after hours tour in order to keep their presence on Thessia as much a secret as possible."

Goyle nodded as she responded, "Thank you, Minister. You are too kind."

The matriarch smiled at that as she turned back to Traynor. "Excellent. And you, Ms Traynor … I understand you will be undertaking short missions for the Alliance … returning here to visit Ms Yuán between trips into the Traverse? Be sure to have Maracela here tell me when you are in Serrice. If I can arrange it, I will come visit during those times."

"Thank you, Ma'am … I will be sure to do that."

• ALLIANCE SHUTTLECRAFT · PARNITHA SYSTEM, AT LARGE •

Samantha Traynor had her total mass calculated and transmitted to the relay in preparation for her trip to the Citadel. As the UT-47 continued its approach to the ancient machine, she thought about her Inamorata, left behind on Thessia. Can't be helped, dammit! Need to get ahead of whatever problem General Park has uncovered, and hope to 'ell I don't have to physically confront anyone. Maybe, while I'm on the Citadel, I can get a replacement cuisse and compression pants for Xiùlán.

All of this ran through her mind as she watched the Relay grow larger on her viewscreen. She smiled as she thought of Xiùlán, insisting that Sammy join her in bed for just a little while, before her scheduled 0230 departure time from Serrice. It had been … interesting. Xiùlán had lain on her right side in order to spare her left thigh. The loving embrace in which she held Sammy had been difficult to leave, which Sam suspected had been Yuán's plan all along. Saying a final 'I love you, Xiùlán', Sammy had gathered her packs and left before either of them could start sobbing … she did not need to see her lover in tears as she left for what was hoped to be a short trip.

As the enormous eezo core within the spinning containment rings brightened in anticipation of a transit, the rings themselves gradually increased their rotational speed; once the shuttle entered a pre-determined distance from the structure, dark energy in the form of great waves and sheets of blue-white lightning streamed along the length of the relay, reaching out to envelope the shuttle. The UT-47 was drawn into the invisible, funnel-like opening of the space-time corridor created by the relay, where it was pulled nearly instantaneously through billions of kilometers of space, emerging in a similar cloud of energy discharges beside the relay in the Widow System.

As the shuttle rapidly decelerated to sub-light velocity, Traynor resumed manual flight control and set course for the Alliance docks at the Citadel; she wanted to drop Xiùlán's armor plate and compression pants off at the Alliance armory before continuing on to Alliance HQ in Vancouver.

• ALLIANCE HQ, VANCOUVER B.C. · EARTH, SOL SYSTEM •

"Serviceman 1st Class Samantha Traynor, 8256-DH-7968, reporting as ordered." Standing at attention, Sammy waited for the Marine Corporal serving as the OIC to recognize her and ask her business. When she told him she was here to meet with General RaeLee Park, he immediately sent an inquiry to the general's office server; upon receiving a reply, he stood and indicated a hallway with a wave of his hand. "Second door on the right, Ms Traynor. The general is expecting you."

With a Thank you and a nod of her head, Sammy strode past the corporal's desk and entered the hallway; coming to a halt in front of the door, she rapped smartly on its surface with her knuckles. A curt "Come in", could be heard through the wood paneling. Sammy opened the door to a rather opulent looking office; on seeing General Park standing at a table next to her desk, Traynor walked through the doorway and closed the door behind her, coming to attention a meter from the front of Park's desk. "General Park?"

The general glanced over her shoulder at Sammy before picking up a pair of mugs, each emblazoned with the Earth Alliance seal; handing one of the mugs to Traynor, Park indicated she should sit in the chair beside the desk as Park herself took her own seat behind it. Taking a cautious sip of tea, the general set the mug down as she fixed her eyes on Sammy and said with a wry grin, "It's hot. Don't burn your mouth." Elbows on the desk, she steepled her fingers in front of her and said, "Now then … tell me, how is Yuán's recovery progressing? Is Anita Goyle telling me the truth about Yuán needing your presence in order to heal, or is she just blowing smoke up my ass?"

Traynor felt the blush creeping up her neck from beneath her collar. "Well, you're already aware we're in a relationship, General. I can say in all honesty her perceived pain is less when I'm in the room with her, and the rate her leg is healing from the surgeries has been faster than the doctors predicted."

Park's skepticism was apparent. "Those are asari doctors having very little experience with human physiology. How do they know Yuan's rate of healing isn't normal for a human?"

"Differences in environment aside, General, anatomical differences are negligible. That asari heal faster than humans may be due in part to their environment … Hell … Yuán's Chinese heritage may be helping her heal faster than expected." Traynor sipped her tea, then skewered the general with her eyes and said, "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but you didn't have me come all this way from Thessia just to ask me how Service Chief Yuán is progressing … what's happening out there that has you concerned?"

Park lowered her eyes as she took a sip of tea to collect her thoughts. Damn! This kid is really sharp! Time to lay it all out for her. With a short huff of amusement, Park replied, "A few things have happened while you were on assignment with Yuán and Buchanan."

"Cerberus!" The word rolled off Samantha's tongue like an oily poison. "Whatever they're doing cannot be good for the Alliance. What brought them to the top of the pile of miserable rubbish we have to deal with?"

Park's grim smile held no humor or joy. "In 2165, agents sent by Cerberus murdered several crewmen aboard the SSV Geneva in a failed attempt to steal antimatter. They've engineered several accidents that have exposed colonists to dust-form element zero, which leads us to believe they're researching ways to force biotic abilities onto humans, and damn the consequences of still-births, deformed babies, or those that develop brain cancers." Park took another sip from her mug and sighed. "Then there's the string of assassinations attributed to them, going back to before 2170."

"There have always been political assassinations, General. What makes these any different?"

Park selected a datapad from the several on her desk; handing it to Traynor, she explained, "The people selected as replacements were all either sympathetic to causes espoused by Cerberus, or easily manipulated to become virtual puppets."

Samantha read through the list of names—Pope Clement XVI, replaced by Leo XIV, whose eschatological beliefs were more in line with Cerberus' goal of militarizing humanity; the Illusive Man was believed to have ordered the death of Claude Menneau in 2173 in order to allow Charles Saracino to become the leader of the Terra Firma party. Cerberus also supplied funding to Michael Moser Lang, who gunned down United North American States president Enrique Aguilar and Chinese People's Federation premier Ying Xiong in 2176.

Samantha looked up at General Park, saying, "This one name … Lang? I've seen the name before, but not associated with Cerberus. He's an independent contractor, hiring himself out for the best payday."

Thinking, Good! She's picked up the scent!, Park nodded her head as she said, "Lang disappeared from view after taking out the Chinese premier. Last word we had indicated he was stalking Raherix Ursivus, a warmonger in the Turian Hierarchy." Picking up a different datapad, Park gave it to Traynor in exchange for the one she was holding. "Everything we know about Michael Moser Lang is on this device. Copy the data to your omnitool. I need you out in Council Space tracking down and stopping this guy from doing whatever he's been paid to do. You don't have to stay out there continuously, Samantha, but I do need regular updates on your progress. I have a feeling that whatever he's been paid to do is going to happen, and sooner, rather than later. I'd like to prevent him from carrying out his plan, whatever it is."

As Traynor downloaded the information, Park continued, "We've equipped a small ship for your use. Big enough for a proper eezo core, so it's faster than your shuttle, which can be docked in the hanger bay. It's armored, shielded and has defensive weaponry, but it's no warship, so don't get cocky out there."

"How big?" Traynor wanted to know.

"Smaller than an Alliance corvette. We repurposed an old turian corvette—50 meters in length—the Spirit's Rage."

Sam's chuckle was without humor. "50 meters? The UT-47 will take up a third of that. Engines, HVAC, fuel and supplies probably another third … living quarters amount to only 14, 15 meters? Not much of an improvement over living in the Kodiak."

Park grinned. "Wouldn't want you to get spoiled with a lot of luxuries, Traynor. It does have a full galley, and a lavatory with shower stall. Sleeping quarters are tight—two berths, one above the other."

"Perfect. Will Buchanan be coming along?"

"He'll be your pilot … and backup, should you get into trouble. I don't anticipate you needing to go dirtside much. The equipment in the UT-47 will be plugged into Spirit's Rage while the shuttle is docked within—you'll be using the computers in the shuttle for your search, but their reach will be considerably enhanced by using the power, sensors and antennae of the corvette."

Traynor handed the datapad back to the general. "When do I leave, and where do I go to start this search?"

Park set the datapad on the desk, leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I wish there were more time, but … I need you out there yesterday. Your shuttle has been stocked with equipment and supplies you may need. Buchanan has Spirit's Rage in orbit—just go back up in the shuttle and dock with your ship. Your first destination should be the Citadel, then the Trebia system in the Apien Crest—you'll need to determine the whereabouts of Raherix Ursivus, track his movements. I have a terrible feeling in my bones, Sam. That turian's number has come up … we just need to find out how, where, and most importantly, when." Standing, Park stuck out her hand. "Good luck, Samantha … fly safe."

• SPIRIT'S RAGE · AT LARGE •

Traynor and Buchanan had flown from the Local Cluster to the Widow System, where they had placed Spirit's Rage in a parking orbit about the Citadel, blending in with the many freight haulers and military craft that seemed to be locked in a perpetual dance around the colossal station. Sammy felt that a day spent monitoring comms at the Citadel might bear fruit, and the pair could explain their presence in the Widow System a lot more convincingly than if they were in the turian system.

Sammy was inside the shuttle, listening in on supposedly secure communications between the numerous turian ships in the system; she had the system flagged to alert her to any comms traffic coming from the turian councilor's office. While one system monitored ship-to-ship and Citadel-to-ship communications, she setup a second system to monitor the comms between the Apien Crest and the Citadel.

She needed to find Raherix Ursivus before Lang did. The turian was an agitator, traveling among his people's colonies spreading his brand of anti-human hatred. Ursivus' popularity had been slowly growing since the end of the First Contact War, to the point there were those in Alliance Command (including General Park) that felt another war with the turians was an increasing inevitability.

Sammy talked about it with Buchanan during their dinner break; they were each sitting on a small bench that was part of the fold-down table in the tiny galley. "I don't believe Lang will attempt a 'hit' on Ursivus," Sam said between mouthfuls of beans and steamed rice. "He has a number of bodyguards around him at all times, all turian, all intensely loyal. No chance in 'ell that a lone human could get within 70 or 80 meters without being stopped … possibly forever."

Griff took a drink from his glass of beer. "Could Lang use a sniper rifle to take him out?"

"While he's traveling, I suppose, but consider this: the docks are littered with containers of every size, preventing easy shots from ground level, and the kinetic barrier around the ship would deflect any shot from a higher vantage point around the docks. Lang would have to be quite close for a kill shot. How does he pull that off and escape capture?" Sam replied. "I also cannot envision a lone human gaining easy access to a turian passenger vessel." Chewing her rice as she thought about murder for hire, she asked, "How would he eliminate Ursivus and get away? There's nowhere on a ship he can hide, even if he's electronically cloaked. No way to get off while in flight … and once a body's discovered, the turian crew would tear the ship's insides apart looking for the guilty party."

Buchanan finished his beer and carefully stood, not fully trusting the low ceilings and close quarters in here. Picking up his dishes and glass, he set them in the sink beside him as he mumbled to himself, "How would you murder someone and get away?" Looking back at Traynor, he asked aloud, "How would you murder someone and get away, Sam? Put yourself in Lang's place. How would you get the job done and live to collect your payday? We need to think in broader terms! Cerberus isn't beyond killing innocents to achieve their goals … case in point, Holden and Walsh. To them, your chum on Mars was simply collateral damage."

"Don't remind me. Never did find out who their handler was, and the Alliance dropped the effort to find out as soon as those two were dead in their cells." Traynor went silent as she continued to ponder their dilemma. Buchanan reached around, took her empty plate and glass, added them to his own dishes and began washing up. Collateral damage … no big deal … collateral … "Sonovabitch, Griff! They don't give a vorcha's ass about innocents if the end results meet their goals!"

Traynor got up from the fold-down table and moved towards the hanger. "How would you destroy a vessel without actually being on it?"

Griff looked at Sammy as if she'd just turned green and sprouted horns. "It would almost certainly require an explosion, but that would leave a cloud of debris. Someone would surely be able to discover the cause and trace it back to its source."

"In normal space, yes. But what would happen if a ship exploded while transiting a relay pair? It always seems instantaneous to our senses when we're inside the ship, but the reality is a transit between relays takes from two to three, maybe four seconds. Blow up a ship while it's in the Space/Time-Corridor, the cause, the debris, all the bodies, simply vanish."

Buchanan was skeptical. "Has that ever been proven, Traynor?"

"Not to my knowledge … it's just a theory, but it makes perfect sense. Ship moving at FTL explodes—the entire mass drops from FTL while still in the S/T-corridor, but the debris is contained and spread along this tight little tunnel until the entire field collapses … so nothing arrives at the receiving relay. The debris is scattered over billions of kilometers of space, becoming nothing more than cosmic dust."

Still the skeptic, Griff said, "Explosion would have to be perfectly timed, then. No margin for error at either end … rules out someone triggering it remotely. Have to be done with a precision timer."

Traynor entered the hanger as she called back over her shoulder, "I'm going to begin looking at Ursivus' scheduled trips for the next two months. He's visiting and revisiting turian colonies and the turian dominated wards on the Citadel. Soon as I have a pattern to his movements, I can plot which ships he flies on regularly."

Traynor had changed the parameters of her searches, tasking one of the computers to find and correlate the schedules of the major turian owned and operated passenger vessels operating out of Palaven. She reset the second system—originally monitoring comms traffic between the Apien Crest and the Citadel—to look for all the travel reservations made either on behalf of or by Raherix Ursivus during the past six months and two or three months into the future.

As it turned out, Ursivus traveled frequently on ships registered to Aequitas E'defit Transitus, which made regular runs between Palaven, the Citadel, Invictus in Minos Wasteland and Illium. A subsidiary company made bi-weekly runs between Illium and Omega Station. Ursivus had made only four trips to Omega in six years, indicating the station was of little interest to him; on the other hand, he'd traveled to the Citadel on a regular basis, most often on either the MSV Anixara or the MSV Arcus Pluvius.

As both ships were courier class vessels, travel past the Citadel required a layover and change to a bigger vessel. Apparently, the turian seldom needed to travel beyond the Citadel; most of the flights booked for him included a same-day return trip to Palaven, again, on either the MSV Arcus Pluvius or the MSV Anixara.

Sammy felt she had enough data on Ursivus' travel habits, which made her rather nervous. Michael Moser Lang undoubtedly had a similar database on the turian; the implication being he would strike sooner rather than later. What she needed now was a bit of luck intercepting communications between Lang and his handler within Cerberus.

Resetting the computers to search for any mention of Lang's presence, either on the Citadel or in the Apien Crest, she returned to Spirit's Rage's living quarters; entering the small sleeping space, she was startled by a fleeting glimpse of Buchanan's nude backside. "What the 'ell, Griff?" she called after him as he entered the lavatory.

"Just going to take a quick shower before I hit the rack, Sam."

"How about letting me use the head first?" she called. As the shower stall surrounded the toilet, it was impossible for one person to use it while another showered.

Griff came out, towel wrapped around his mid-section. "Have at it, Sammy," he said in a cheery voice. Speaking slightly louder as she went in and closed the door behind her, he asked, "Any leads on Ursivus or Lang?"

"I have a pretty solid record of his travels between Palaven and the Citadel," came the muffled voice. "I'm searching for Lang on the Citadel and in the Apien Crest … need to locate him, and fast," she replied. The sound of the toilet cycling was followed by water running in the sink, then the door opening and Traynor coming out, still drying her hands. "Okay, Griff … it's all yours."

Buchanan carefully moved past her and entered the tiny space. "You'd think …" he said as he closed the door, " … General Park could have put us in a bit bigger ship. There's not enough room in here for me to even turn around," he finished plaintively.

Traynor shook her head without answering, as the sound of water falling in the shower would have drowned her voice out. Entering the galley, she rooted around in the refrigerator, finally extracting a pre-packaged cup of yogurt. Sitting at the small table, she wrote her report on the day's activities between spoonfuls of the synthesized dairy product, then moved into the small cockpit, uploaded and transmitted her report to General Park.

Their next move would involve docking at the Citadel, where she hoped to discover some clue on Lang's whereabouts; she felt if he was going to sabotage a ship on which Ursivus would be traveling, he'd have to do it during the Citadel layover. It would take careful planning and meticulous timing, and she would have to discover how, exactly, Lang intended to bring the ship down. Checking her chrono, she decided to leave the ship's VI in charge for the night—she entered the small sleeping compartment, stripped out of her uniform, pulled on a sleep shirt and climbed into the top bunk. She stopped thinking about Lang, turning her thoughts instead to those of her lover. Lying on her side, she gradually drifted off to sleep.

Rising before Griff was awake, Traynor carefully left her bunk and slipped into the head, where she stripped out of her sleep shirt and panties, voided her bladder, then turned the shower on. She washed her hair before soaping and rinsing her body as fast as she could; she wasn't sure how much hot water was available, and didn't want to have the water go cold before she finished.

She was drying herself when a light tap on the door told her that Griff was out of bed; she wrapped the towel around her torso, grabbed her supplies and opened the door. "Good morning," she said. "How'd you sleep?"

"Rack's a bit tight for someone my size—of course, most of them are, no matter how big the ship is."

Traynor moved past Buchanan as he entered the space she was vacating. "Soon as we have some breakfast, I'm going to take the shuttle to the Citadel, Griff … I want to take a look at the docking facilities for the turian transports in which Ursivus travels, maybe get a sense of the kind and amount of security around the area."

Glancing quickly over her shoulder to make sure she was out of Griff's line of sight, she dropped her towel in favor of high-thigh underpants and a sport bra; once inside the shuttle, she'd put on her under-armor mesh, socks, boots and armor, along with her weapons. Moving into the tiny galley, she found that Griff had already made coffee; she gratefully poured herself a mug of the steaming beverage, grabbed a couple of breakfast bars and moved to the ship's bridge. Taking the pilot's seat, she entered several commands on the VI interface, instructing it to move the ship closer to the Citadel and establish a close orbit of the facility.

Leaning back in her chair, she sipped her coffee and ate one of her breakfast bars as Spirit's Rage complied with the instructions she'd entered for the VI. By the time she had finished her second breakfast bar and drained the last of her coffee, the ship was in a new, closer orbit about the Citadel.

Traynor rose and went back to the galley, where she ran into Buchanan pouring a cup of coffee for himself. As she rinsed and dried her mug, she told him about her plans for the day. "I'm going to take the shuttle to the Alliance docks. Once there, I'll begin searching for Lang … I believe he's on the station, staying out of sight, but if he is eating and sleeping, he has to be using chits. Once I find him, it should be a simple matter to track him."

"Looks like you're a bit under-dressed for an excursion," he snarked. "So, what do you need me to do while you're ashore?"

"Monitor my comms channel," she responded, ignoring the dig. "I'll spend some of my time actively using the search programs, but anytime I can leave the shuttle for a couple of hours, I will. Who knows—maybe we'll get lucky, find him before he can move on those turian transports.

Griff chuckled as he asked, "Think you can stay outta trouble for a day?"

"Me?" she asked innocently. "Trouble? There's very few batarians on the station, Griff—I don't expect I'll have any difficulty avoiding trouble. See you this evening." With that, Traynor left for the passageway to the hanger deck, where she unplugged the shuttle's systems from Spirit's Rage before entering the small craft; after closing and sealing the hatch, she pulled equipment from her locker: under-armor mesh pants and overshirt, socks, boots, armor plates, kinetic and cloaking generator, mass reduction generator, sheathed butterfly knives and heavy pistol. After donning it all with practiced ease, she signaled the ship's VI to erect the kinetic barrier and open the main hanger doors.

From the pilot's chair, Traynor initiated the startup sequence for the ME generator, turbo-fuel pumps, navi-computers, inertial dampeners and environmental systems. When all the gauges and sensors indicated the shuttle's systems were operating within specs, she had the onboard VI take the UT-47 out of the hanger; once clear of the ship, she took over manual control and set course for the Citadel.

• TURIAN COMMERCIAL SPACECRAFT DOCKS, CITADEL · WIDOW SYSTEM •

Wearing her dark-grey, calf-length hooded overcoat, Samantha stayed in the shadows as much as possible as she approached the turian commercial spacecraft docks. With her electronic cloak engaged and only having to avoid physical contact with the turians moving around the ships, she drew as close as she dared, knowing the proximity sensors would detect her presence, cloaked or not.

In addition to the proximity sensors, security around the mostly empty docks consisted of armed C-Sec guards. C-Sec's patrols were designed to appear unscheduled, with guards appearing randomly at the various access points within the perimeter. The guards themselves were regularly rotated out of the station's complement in order to keep them from gaining any familiarity with the turians charged with servicing the ships between trips.

By carefully walking the perimeter where the Arcus Pluvius and the Anixara regularly docked; it didn't take long for her search to pay off. There was a pronounced gap in the security coverage that would allow a cloaked individual—such as herself—to stroll right up to the boarding ramps of either ship. Traynor had no doubt Lang would employ a personal cloaking generator just as she was doing now. She documented all this with her omnitool in order to have proof that clandestine access to the ships was possible, then rechecked the schedules for both ships; the Arcus Pluvius would be arriving within the hour. A nearby passenger lounge that catered to non-turian travelers would provide her a good place to observe the ship's arrival and docking procedures.

After turning off her cloaking generator, she boldly entered the small lounge and took a seat near enough to the front window so she could watch the docks; additionally, the reflections in the window allowed her to observe the area behind her—always a concern when she was supposed to remain unnoticed.

The arrival of the Arcus Pluvius was preceded by an increasing amount of activity about the designated dock, as cargo handlers staged containers for loading, while leaving a path for the anticipated containers that would be off-loaded during the ship's brief layover. Traynor activated video recording on her omnitool and placed her arm so as to capture as much of the activities around the arriving vessel as possible—she'd upload it to the shuttle's storage server, after which it could be analyzed be either Griff or herself.

The arrival of the ship as it pierced the atmospheric kinetic barrier and slowly eased itself between the dual walkways was actually anticlimactic. Studying all the activity once the ship was docked and the passengers had disembarked, Traynor realized a saboteur could enter the ship as a cargo handler; once aboard, it would be a simple matter to plant a device of some sort near any bulkhead in the aft portion of the vessel, then leave with no one the wiser. More importantly for her needs, the dock workers were a mixture of races—there were a few humans scattered among the mostly turian crew doing the work; there were even a couple of batarians. Two thoughts occurred to her nearly in unison—a cloaked human might be able to enter and leave the ship's cargo area unseen, if caution was used to avoid the few batarians among the dock workers, and it might just be possible that Buchanan could get a job working with the ground crew as a temporary laborer, thus enabling them to view the cargo area of the ship.

What was proving difficult for her to fathom was the timing. If the device, whatever it was, was triggered too soon or too late, the explosion would happen in normal space, leaving easily retrievable evidence. She was missing something … an action that Lang could take that would make in-flight destruction of an interstellar passenger ship appear to be an accident … but what?

Her thoughts were spinning in circles—better to stop thinking about sabotage to the Anixara and start looking for Lang. Traynor didn't believe he'd be staying anywhere near the Presidium; accommodations there were quite expensive, and she didn't expect Cerberus would be footing the bill for such—living in luxury was the Illusive Man's specialty. No, Lang would be staying in the wards. There were plenty of places close enough to the Presidium for easy accessibility that wouldn't break the bank.

Activating her comms unit, she called Spirit's Rage. "Griff, I'm on my way back to the shuttle … think you're up for a little manual labor?"

The answering chuckle was lacking in humor. "Let me guess … you need me to hire on as a cargo handler."

"How'd you know? Anyway, it'll get you off the ship so you can get some exercise. Nothing dangerous. I'll be back on board shortly, just as soon as I retrieve Xiùlán's repaired cuisse and new compression pants." Traynor left the passenger lounge and made her way back to the Alliance docks where her shuttle was parked.

A/N: The sharp-eyed among you may have caught my reference to Star Wars: IV in the presentation of the Asari Songblades—'an elegant weapon, from a simpler, more civilized age'—It's a paraphrase from Obi-Wan Kenobi's explanation to Luke concerning the light saber he'd just been given.