Girls like her were born in a storm. They have lightning in their souls. Thunder in their hearts. And chaos in their bones. — Nikita Gill
ANN – Alliance News Network, an independent galactic news broadcasting network, not associated with the Systems Alliance
Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
S/T-C – Space/Time-Corridor
Siame – One who is all, a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian)
Stropharia – shit, as in sack of stropharia (Batarian)
• SPIRIT'S RAGE, WIDOW SYSTEM · AT LARGE •
Buchanan and Traynor alternated their forays on the Citadel for several days after Sammy's initial visit to the docks frequented by turian warmonger Raherix Ursivus. They were following some promising leads concerning Michael Moser Lang, an independent contractor frequently employed by Cerberus to perform wet work; Alliance Intelligence had good reason to believe Ursivus was the target for Lang's next hit.
Traynor felt they were running out of time to discover the where and how for the hit they felt was a certainty. She was looking at anything that could tie Lang to a planned hit on the turian, and had actually started to believe there was nothing to discover when an odd purchase caught her eyes.
A significant quantity of liquid deuterium had been purchased from a chemical wholesale importer on the Citadel. D2O was a compound most theoretical chemical researchers agreed could possibly create a cascading, catastrophic chain-reaction failure if injected into a stream of metastable metallic hydrogen fuel being pumped at high pressure and quantities into a reaction engine, as used by commercial interstellar transports. The outcome was not a sure thing, as no legitimate research facilities would build a test facility to investigate something that had no practical applications, but Traynor wouldn't put such an experiment beyond the capabilities of Cerberus owned Cord-Hislop Aerospace.
Traynor and Buchanan spent several days following the discovery of the deuterium purchase determining the identity of the person, or persons, who had acquired the substance. The company importing it had extremely poor encryption protocols in place; all of their records may just as well have been an open book to an inquisitive woman such as Samantha. It turned out the large quantity purchase had been only one of several completed in the past month; while Griff tracked the origins of all the previous purchases, Sam concentrated on learning where it was all to be shipped, and by what carrier.
Lang had still not been seen during their entire stay on the Citadel; Sam had one computer on the shuttle devoted to matching Lang's face to one of the many thousands of human faces scanned each day by security cameras all over the wards. Sam was more than a little frustrated at her lack of progress, saying as much to Griff during their evening meal.
"How in 'ell are we supposed to stop this guy if he never exposes himself?" She sipped her beer in between bites of her bean and rice burrito. "I think I'm close to discovering where the stuff's going to be shipped, but we still need to tie the shipment to Lang."
Buchanan took a bite from his own burrito, chewed and swallowed before replying. "I've seen nothing out of the ordinary while loading either of those turian ships. Do you really think Lang will destroy a ship full of innocent people to get at Ursivus?"
"I'm convinced of it, Griff. Cerberus does not play nice … killing ten … or ten dozen innocents in order to eliminate their target? Not even a consideration on their part."
"Okay, then," Buchanan replied quietly. "We'll just have to keep looking."
• SERRICE HOSPITAL, THESSIA · PARNITHA, ATHENA NEBULA •
Yuán Xiùlán grimaced from the pain as Doctor Shakia examined her left thigh. Xiùlán had been rapidly recovering from the multiple surgeries performed to repair her shattered thigh—had even been walking with the aid of a cane. The pain in her leg had gradually returned, and was soon accompanied by a low-grade fever and hyper-touch sensitivity near any of the numerous healed incision and graft sites.
"I'm sorry, Xiùlán. I believed the healing of your leg had progressed further; apparently, I was mistaken." The asari appeared to be embarrassed by this revelation. "You have contracted an infection near the initial bullet wound … possibly from a spot of debris or fragment of the original bullet we did not notice when we performed the surgery."
"So, what's the plan, Doctor? I was looking forward to being back at work with Sà mi."
"We'll return you to the hospital, treat the infection and attempt to remove its cause," came the reply. "You should be out again in three days." Xiùlán's disappointment must have been plain, as Shakia added, "Again, I apologize. It is unfortunate, but getting you past this infection … and its cause … will take much less time than it took us to repair your leg from the very beginning." Placing a hand on Yuán's shoulder, the doctor finished with, "I understand this setback is discouraging, but it will only be a few additional days."
• SPIRIT'S RAGE, WIDOW SYSTEM · AT LARGE •
Traynor was returning from yet another trip to the Citadel; Buchanan had the ship heading for the relay as soon as she docked the shuttle.
Sensing her presence behind his chair on the bridge, he asked without looking around, "So, still haven't found our elusive Mr Lang?"
"Not yet. I keep hoping the search program I'm running will turn up something. The sonovabitch is on the Citadel, Griff … I can feel it in my bones. I suspect he doesn't travel anywhere without an active cloaking generator, so the search program may never turn up anything, and the few leads I had today all turned out to be nothing." Traynor snorted with disgust. "Son of a bitch may as well be a ghost, or a puff of smoke." After a brief pause, she asked, "How about shipping info on the deuterium … any luck there?"
"It's not being shipped … it's being moved … relocated, to the freight forwarding terminal adjacent to the passenger loading zone for our two turian passenger liners," Griff replied.
Traynor's jaw dropped at this. "He's storing that shit right next to the passenger docks? That's pretty bold, even for Cerberus!"
Griff smiled grimly.
"Stuff is stable enough on its own … shouldn't pose any problem just sitting there. We just need to make sure we get notified if … and when, it gets moved again; perhaps part of it will be loaded on either the Arcus Pluvius or the Anixara, or both. Do we know how much of this stuff would need to be introduced in the fuel to cause a reaction?"
Sammy frowned. "Chemistry wasn't my specialty in college, Griff, but I suspect the amount would be minimal. Doesn't mean a large amount wouldn't be effective—might speed up the reaction, make it more catastrophic. Guess I need to do a bit of research on the subject. Perhaps it's time I looked into Cord-Hislop's research notes. I'm going back down to the shuttle, do some digging."
Traynor spent the next two hours slipping into the servers maintained by Cord-Hislop Aerospace, discovering as she did so that the company had a wealth of skeletons in its virtual closet. It came as no surprise the firm had done research on the effects of adding deuterium as a catalyst to destabilize metallic hydrogen fuel—Lang would certainly be aware of those findings, even if the amount of deuterium sitting in the freight forwarding terminal was nearly three times the amount he'd need to bring down a small ship.
Traynor propped her booted feet up on the control console as she leaned back in her chair, thinking about Cerberus' methods for assassination. She felt she knew how Lang intended to pull off the assassination, and had quickly focused all her searches on the methodology needed to do so. In addition to the deuterium sitting on the docks, he'd need a smaller container, a precision timer, and an injection system that could overcome the tremendous pressure within the piping supplying the engine with fuel.
As she began researching recent hardware acquisitions on the station, her facial recognition search finally bore results—a security camera had spotted Lang near the transfer area. Activating her comms, she said, "Found 'im, Griff! I'm going down to the docks." Quickly disconnecting the shuttle from Spirit's Rage, she undocked from the ship and promptly flew to a public dock near the commercial transport area where the turian transports docked. Still armored up from her previous visits, she set security for the shuttle before leaving on a dead run for the commercial docks.
Setting her cloaking generator and slowing her pace as she entered the public area between the docks and freight transfer area, she inspected the area where the containers of deuterium were being stored, and was less than pleased to discover one had been removed, probably by Lang.
Knowing he could not have traveled too far, she used her omnitool to query the cameras in the vicinity, particularly the one that had originally recorded his image. After several seconds, she picked up the trail. Lang had been seen moving the one container into a small warehouse nearby; being a bit more careful now, Sam followed cautiously—getting discovered was the last thing she needed when she was so close.
Opening her comms channel, she called Spirit's Rage. "Griff, I need an interior schematic for the warehouse at these coordinates." While she waited, Traynor did a bit of reconnoitering in the immediate area—this late in the Citadel's daily time cycle, most of the places in this industrial area were closed for the night. The side alleys and main access roads around her location appeared to be deserted, something that would definitely work in her favor.
Her omnitool silently came to life for a moment as Griff delivered the interior schematics; Traynor shielded her wrist as she opened the map; after studying it briefly, she spotted a side door in a poorly-lit portion at the rear corner of the structure. After sending an overload to each of the two cameras pointed at that location, Traynor moved to the door.
As she touched the surface in preparation of hacking the lock, the door gave way slightly; whoever had last come this way had not latched it completely, leading her to wonder if there might be a good reason why. Almost without thinking, she dialed her mass down to a minimum and jumped straight up, catching the edge of the roof as an explosion ripped through the door, scattering debris across the alley. Dirty bastard would have had my ass in that blast, she thought. Pulling herself over the edge of the wall, she went prone on the flat roof and peeked over the edge at the area below.
A figure came out through the now doorless opening and looked about, as if attempting to find a body. Fortunately for Traynor, the human male didn't think to turn his gaze upwards, or he might have discovered his intended target looking down at him. Traynor pulled her head back and turned her attention to the broad expanse of rooftop; there were several raised skylights, along with numerous ventilators and vent pipes.
Gingerly moving her head, she peeked down and discovered there were now two humans in the alleyway, apparently there to insure no one could enter the warehouse through the now doorless opening in the wall. Coming to a decision, Traynor got to her feet and carefully made her way to the closest skylight. After a careful inspection, she determined that one bank of windows could be opened far enough for her to slip through. Activating her comms again, she filled Griff in on what had happened and the course of action she was planning.
"Doesn't sound like a smart move, Sammy. You sure there's no other way?"
"None that I can see, Griff," she replied. "I think you better dock Spirit's Rage and come meet me, just in case the pile of shit I step in is too deep to get out of unaided.
Griff sighed heavily, then said, "Okay, Sammy. Give me an hour or so."
"Try to make it faster, Griff. I don't think these people are going to wait around, and they're not nice people. I'm going to drop in on them, see what I can find."
"Dammit! That's not a good idea, Traynor. Stay in cover … wait 'til I can shadow you, watch your six."
It was Traynor's turn to sigh. "Okay, Griff. I'll wait here on the roof … just … get here soon as you can. I don't want these people disappearing before we find out what they're doing."
"On my way, Sammy."
• SERRICE HOSPITAL, THESSIA · PARNITHA, ATHENA NEBULA •
Xiùlán was dreaming. There was a hand … cool, soft … gently caressing her forehead and cheek. Another hand, also cool, was using fingers to gently trace imaginary patterns on the back of her left hand. The sensations invoked by the contact started in her chest—a feeling of deep contentment, of being cared for, of almost … being loved. She had felt this contentment … many times. Xiùlán allowed her eyelids to part just enough to reconnoiter her immediate surroundings. The hand on her face was attached to a forearm covered in a sleeve made of pale green cloth … the bit of wrist she could see was … blue.
Turning her head as she cracked her eyes open a bit more revealed the smiling face of Doctor Shakia, gently waking her from a pleasant afternoon nap. "How are you feeling, Ms Yuán?"
Xiùlán offered up a weak smile and replied in a rough whisper, "Okay, I guess. I was dreaming … about Sammy. Thought it was her hands on my face and hand." That it had not been Sammy brought on a tone of disappointment in her voice. "Even though I know she's on a mission for General Park, I was hoping she could slip into the system for an evening."
Dr Shakia had removed the dressing on Xiùlán's thigh while she was talking; waving her omnitool over Xiùlán's leg from hip-to-knee, she inspected the scan results and nodded slightly in approval. "It appears we have taken care of the infection, Ms Yuán. Your body temperature has returned to human normal, and all the grafts are healing properly. I think that, barring any unforeseen complications, we'll discharge you back to the rehab unit tomorrow morning, let you resume exercising that leg."
Xiùlán perked up at this bit of good news. "Thanks, Doctor. It'll be good to be able to once more walk without every step being painful."
• COMMERCIAL DOCKS & WAREHOUSE DISTRICT · CITADEL •
Traynor had chaffed at the delay required to have Buchanan arrive to guard her back. After waiting for thirty minutes, during which time she witnessed an increasing amount of activity on the floor below the skylight through which she was watching, she carefully unlatched the window and silently opened it to its maximum. She was just placing one leg over the edge when her comms came alive: "Traynor! I'm on the ground in front of the warehouse … where are you?"
"Still on the roof. Look down the open side of the building … there should be a guard at either end of the alleyway, keeping watch on the unsecured doorway. A distraction there might make it easier for me to slip in without being seen."
The snarky smile in his voice came through as he responded with, "One distraction coming up …"
Traynor wondered what the big man intended to do. Seriously doubt he has anything explosive … the thought had barely occurred when a mixed howl of pain and surprise echoed up from below. Without waiting for more, Sam activated her cloak as she swung her other leg through the opening and dropped, light as a feather, into the one pool of shadow she'd observed from above.
Mass back to her normal weight and silenced pistol in hand, she spun around quickly to look for threats; there was some confused noise coming from the vicinity of the rear corner of the building, but her line of sight was blocked by several stacks of shipping containers. She ran for the containers; coming up hard against the stack nearest the open floor, she quickly looked around towards the noise.
A small group of men, numbering no more than seven, were clustered near the wide open doorway; they were apparently arguing about the distinct lack of security such an opening provided, along with attempting to come up with a defensive plan for whatever was outside attacking the guards.
With her hasty look Sam had carefully inspected each man's face; none of them was Lang, which meant she'd either missed the bastard or he was elsewhere in the building. As she pondered which way to move, the unmistakable sound of gunfire erupted outside; Griff must be really stirring things up. Looking up, she determined the top of the stack of containers was only about nine meters, based on three containers each three meters high. Dialing her mass down, she made a combination jump and climb; once prone on top of the containers, she could more easily see her surroundings.
The group of men at the door had been whittled down to five, not counting the two outside. Backing away from the edge, she stood, turned and jumped almost in one motion; leaping from stack to stack, the irony of what she was doing was not lost on her … she had done nearly the same thing during her mission on Cartagena Station. A small office structure was revealed to her as she carefully looked down from atop the furthest container; the dim light within allowed her to see but not identify a person moving around within. Activating her comms, she said, "Griff, where are you?"
Filtered sounds of gunfire could be heard through her earpiece as he replied, "Pinned down by some really determined bad guys, Sam. They can't advance on me without more of 'em getting killed, and I'm unable to leave my cover for the same reason. A little help from the rear would be nice."
"Okay. Hang on …" Sam looked around on the floor outside the office before turning back the way she'd come, moving across the stacked containers as she thought, Has to be Lang in that office area—deuterium container's sitting outside. Going prone as she reached the edge, she pulled her silenced pistol and carefully aimed at three of the remaining five men, all close to the door. Her pistol coughed three times, dropping each of the three before the others could react. Rolling away from the edge before she was seen, "Okay, Griff … three down, two left in here. How many left outside?"
"Two … I got one of them … one of the remaining two was an outside guard," Griff grunted in reply. "That's just about all of 'em, right?"
"Seems so. Stand by … it's about to get noisy." Peeking back over the edge of the container revealed only the three prone figures. As she rolled away from the edge, a small explosion of energy ripped past the location where her face had just been. Shit, they have an engineer down there. Sonovabitch is trying to disable my weapons electronically. Pulling her shotgun, Traynor took a deep breath to center herself before rising to her feet.
Time seemed to slow for her as she took three running steps towards the far wall; leaping into the empty space above her previous victims, she aimed and fired her shotgun as she slowly fell. The recoil from the powerful gun against her reduced mass shoved her back and to the side half-a-meter, just enough for the omnitool blast from the engineer on the floor to miss; the next blast from the scattergun caught the unfortunate man full in the face, killing him instantly as his head exploded in a mass of red froth.
Increasing her mass, she tucked into a forward roll as she touched down on the floor. Changing her grip on her weapon as she completed the roll, she utilized a brutal, upward angled straight blow to the mouth and nose of the extremely large human attempting to grab her, nearly lifting him from his feet; she cut off his scream of pain with a pointblank shot to the throat, dropping him to lie in a spreading pool of red liquid.
A quick look around confirmed everyone was dead; engaging her cloak, she headed out the nearby door and turned towards the front of the building. One of the two remaining thugs turned at the sound of her footsteps crunching through the rubble. Taking careful aim, she ripped through his kinetic barrier and chest plate with her first shot; her follow-up ripped through clothing, skin, bone and lungs. Without sparing the dying man a second glance, she whistled as she walked towards the last holdout. This guy stood and faced her, arms spread from his sides, hands empty. "You wouldn't kill an unarmed man, would you?"
"You were armed less than ten seconds ago, so I'm guessing you stashed your pistol before standing to face me," Traynor replied. In a voice cold enough to freeze the air around her, she finished with, "If you turn and leave now, I may let you live."
He hesitated for a moment before common sense dictated his actions—he turned and started running, leaving the alleyway to Griff, Sam, and the dead bodies on the ground and in the warehouse. Buchanan rose and trotted to catch up to her as she turned and strode back to the warehouse. "I think Lang was inside, Griff, but with all the noise from our little war out here, it'd be a safe bet he's long gone, along with the deuterium that was outside that office."
The pair carefully made their way back through the warehouse; picking their way past Samantha's handiwork, they came around the containers at the far end to an office devoid of life. As predicted, the deuterium was gone as well, but there were several items in the office that proved to Traynor they were on the right path. "We need to gather this up and get clear before C-Sec arrives to see what all the fireworks are about."
"Agreed," Griff responded as he nervously watched the warehouse for signs of movement.
Traynor hacked into the terminal on the desk and uploaded all the current files to her omnitool—she'd peruse them later once they'd returned to Spirit's Rage.
Looking around on the floor, she spotted a datapad lying in the shadows under the desk; her fingers had nearly closed on it when Griff roughly jerked her arm away. "Just a bit suspicious, don't you think? Something like that, lying loose in here that could tie Lang to this place?"
Sam looked at the big man for a moment, the surprise at his action turning to chagrin. Taking a deep breath, she turned the light from her omni-tool on the shadow enveloping the datapad, revealing an attached motion detector. "Damn it," she huffed. "I'll bet this desk is packed with enough explosives to level this side of the building. Thanks, Griff."
"Don't mention it," he grinned. "I don't fancy being part of whatever that thing was going to activate either! Let's get out of here … let C-Sec deal with this place."
• SPIRIT'S RAGE, WIDOW SYSTEM · AT LARGE •
By the time Buchanan had moved Spirit's Rage back into the nebula and Traynor had docked the shuttle, the pair had been without sleep for close to twenty hours. Griff had Sammy go to her bunk and get some shut-eye while he cleaned up their weapons and armor. After a three-hour nap, Traynor felt a whole lot sharper, a condition not lost on the burly Service Chief. "Perhaps I wouldn't have had to pull your hand away from that datapad if you had been a bit more rested."
Embarrassment colored her cheeks slightly as she replied, "Maybe so … I just hope the files I uploaded from the desk terminal will provide enough information to solve our puzzle."
Griff wasn't done. "I got a message from Serrice Hospital while you were napping … Dr Shakia readmitted Xiùlán to the hospital to treat an infection in her leg. Sounds like she's planning to get Xiùlán back into the rehab unit as soon as she can, probably in three days' time."
"Damn! I should be with her, Griff. Did the doctor say I needed to be there?"
"She didn't, and I expect if she had needed you, she'd have had to ask for your presence with a request sent through Ambassador Goyle. General Park isn't going to cut either of us loose from this investigation, especially when we're so damned close to bagging Lang."
Traynor ran her hands through her hair as she thought about her Inamorata, alone on an alien planet. Xiùlán was getting the best of care, but she was only a one-relay jump away … I could be there and back before anyone missed me! came the unbidden thought.
Buchanan was not stupid … he could see the wheels spinning and said, "I miss her too, Sammy, and I can see what you're thinking. You know damned well she'd kick your ass for even thinking about going to see her." The Service Chief placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as he smiled at her. "The Alliance would call it dereliction of duty, along with being absent without leave, not to mention you'd put me in an impossible position."
Traynor smiled at her friend. "I'd never do that to you, Griff. I'd kill you first, then go." Sammy was immediately sorry for saying that as Griff's smile vanished.
"Dammit, Sammy! Don't even joke about that, okay? That's not even remotely funny."
"Sorry. Guess I need some more sleep … speaking of which, time for you to turn in, catch a few Zees." Before Griff could raise the obvious objection, she raised her hands, palms facing him and added, "I promise … I'll still be here when you wake up. I've got to look at a lot of data, so … go! Get to your rack."
Buchanan wasn't about to argue—he was nearly asleep already. "Wake me if you find anything significant, otherwise …"
"I don't expect I'll find anything, but if I do, you'll be the first one I call."
Three hours later, Sammy stood and stretched in an attempt to work out the kink in her back and neck. She had discovered how Lang intended to assassinate Raherix Ursivus, and believed she now knew the date he'd make the attempt.
Lang needed to add one piece of non-standard equipment to the fuel system controls aboard the Anixara—something that would be small enough to escape a cursory inspection by engineering personnel. The Cerberus agent had acquired a high-pressure fuel injector assembly originally intended for a much larger ship—say, a frigate, or a cruiser. Installing it in the fuel supply system of the Anixara would require precision placement, something that could only be done by a trained technician; Traynor suspected such a person would come from Cord-Hislop.
The timer was the really ingenious part of the entire scheme. Lang's device was equipped with a smart receiver that would 'listen' to the signals generated by the paired relays during FTL transit. During the two-to-three second long transit through the S/T-C, the signals from each relay would reach the same relative strength approximately mid-way through—the instant that happened, the timer would trigger the injection of deuterium into the fuel being pumped at high-pressure to the fusion reactor; a catastrophic core breach would occur within milliseconds, destroying the ship and killing all the people aboard.
Traynor carefully prepared her report for General Park, including all her sources of information so there would be no doubt concerning Lang's willingness to sacrifice thirty-five-to-fifty people in order to eliminate one target. Based on her data, the Anixara would be destroyed eight days from today, on a trip from the Citadel to the turian home system in the Apien Crest. After rousing Buchanan from his slumbers, she explained everything she was placing in her report, to which she appended Griff's notes, then transmitted it all to General Park, along with a request for follow-up instructions.
Samantha felt confident Park would have them disable the device immediately prior to the Anizara's departure, and was already working out the plans in her head as she opened the comms terminal and placed a call to her lover on Thessia.
When the call went through and Xiùlán's image appeared on the viewer, the radiant smile on her face brought tears of happiness to Sammy's eyes. "Xiùlán! I've missed you so much! How are you doing, Luv? Is your leg getting better?"
"It's much better, Sammy!" Xiùlán exclaimed. "Dr Shakia tells me I'll be released back to rehab tomorrow, so I should be able to come home in a couple more weeks!"
"That's wonderful news, Darling. I can't wait to hold you in my arms again … seems like it's been forever. Will you be able to go home when you get back … visit your parents?"
"Don't know … I'll have to wait, see what assignment General Park has for me …"
The pair chatted for several more minutes, until an incoming call forced Traynor to end her call to Xiùlán. "Call me tomorrow after you've been discharged from hospital, Luv. Maybe I'll have some news from General Park. Gotta go … I Love you!"
Traynor answered the incoming call, and was surprised to see General Park on the screen. "General … I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. What may I do for you, Ma'am?"
"I've looked through your report, Ms Traynor," came the grim-faced reply. "I need to meet with you and Buchanan … in person, here in my office. File a flight plan and send me the details as soon as possible."
"Yes Ma'am … right away, Ma'am." The general terminated the connection before Traynor could even ask what the problem was. Sammy hollered back towards their kitchen/dining area, "Buchanan … we need to travel to Sol!"
• SYSTEMS ALLIANCE NAVAL YARD, VANCOUVER, BC · EARTH, SOL SYSTEM •
Buchanan and Traynor only had to wait a few moments before General Park's aide ushered them into her office. Standing behind her desk, the general waved the pair towards the chairs facing the desk as she said, "Hold all of my calls, Ms Flynn."
After Flynn acknowledged Park's request and closed the office door behind her, Park took a seat, picking up a datapad as she did so. "Since I called you, I've read through your report a bit more thoroughly, Traynor, Buchanan. Seems pretty incredible that Lang would simply write off the deaths of so many innocent people as collateral damage." Raising her hand as Sammy began to protest, she continued. "I don't doubt for one second the veracity of what you've uncovered, Ms Traynor. I want you to know I went up the chain," she smiled grimly, "short as that chain is, with the contents of this report. Consensus is, we let events unfold as they will."
Traynor was on her feet instantly. "General Park, with all due respect, Ma'am, we can't do that!" At the intense look from the general, she amended her statement, "Something needs to be done, Ma'am, or a lot of people, innocent people just trying to get home, will vanish without a trace. You do understand that a drive-core failure within a relay-created space/time corridor will result in a contained explosion. Nothing will come out …"
Park interrupted her by completing her statement. "… of the other end but dust. I understand that, Ms Traynor, as do the admirals and generals up that short chain." Indicating to Sammy that she should sit back down, Park continued, "I applaud your research … it is extensive, detailed, and proves to me I have the right team on the job. That said, the people I answer to will not allow your report to reveal our abilities to the rest of the Alliance, or the galactic community. There's too much at stake."
"Ma'am, preventing the destruction of that ship would elevate humanity in the eyes of the other races, particular the turians," Sammy responded. "Preventing the death of a war monger like Raherix Ursivus might just show them we're not the threat so many turians think we are. Are we just going to sit on that information … let the Anixara be destroyed?"
Park's frown was not directed at Traynor or Buchanan, but Sammy couldn't help but think that it was. "That's exactly what we're going to do, Ms Traynor."
Traynor was incensed that a chance to save innocent lives was going to be squandered. "Then we're no damn better than Cerberus, General Park."
The general reacted as if Traynor had slapped her; standing from her chair, she placed her fingertips on the surface of her desk and ground out, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that, Serviceman! You are dangerously close to insubordination here."
Traynor had stood at the same time as General Park. "Is it insubordination to state the truth, or has the Systems Alliance issued an edict that its service members are to disobey their conscience?"
"That's enough, Serviceman Traynor! I recommend you shut your mouth before it talks you into a dishonorable discharge."
Traynor was so angry she was trembling all over; Park continued to stand at her desk, waiting to see what Traynor would do. She could kill me where I stand and I'd never see it coming, came the unwelcome thought. Will she stand down, I wonder?
Sammy finally found her tongue again, asking, "Am I dismissed, General Park?"
Park thought for a moment, then answered, "You are … both of you are dismissed. See Corporal Flynn on your way out … she'll see you both are assigned temporary quarters here on the base." As Buchanan rose from his chair and Sammy turned to leave, Park added, "Remember, both of you … not a word to anyone about what you've been doing. I don't know for a fact, but this may be your last special assignment."
The look Traynor gave the general spoke volumes about her state of mind. Wisely staying silent, she left the general's office like a cold wind, Buchanan hot on her heels.
It had been nine days since Traynor and Buchanan had arrived in Vancouver to brief General Park concerning the results of their investigation into the planned assassination of Turian Hierarchy hawk Raherix Ursivus. Since their meeting, the pair had been confined to base in order to ensure their silence concerning Michael Moser Lang's involvement in the plot. Traynor had spent three hours in the morning and afternoon of each day working out in the gymnasium; morning exercises involved honing her skills with her húdié dāo [蝴蝶刀 – butterfly sword(s)]—as she had done on the asari corvette Ionsaí, she employed them in slow-motion shadow fights, emphasizing precision movement at all times—afternoons were spent on core exercises designed to maintain her strength and agility.
On this particular morning, General Park entered the gym through a side door and slowly walked up to Sammy's exercise area. As Park was wearing sweats, Traynor chose to ignore her presence, concentrating on her own movements. Park watched her for several minutes before commenting, "I expect those knives are not the only weapons with which you're proficient … I already know about your unarmed prowess, thanks to your dustup with a certain Jason Joesiar. What about firearms?"
Park thought for a moment Traynor wasn't going to respond when she heard the words, "Rifle. Pistol. Shotgun. Take your pick." The first three were said with a grunt as she lunged with one or the other of the knives in her hands.
Park replied, "You're still angry with me, aren't you?"
Before she replied, Traynor shoved her knives into their calf-mounted sheaths, grabbed a towel to wipe some of the sweat from her face and arms, took a drink of water, then turned to stand facing the general from a meter away. "What can I do for you, Ma'am?"
Park had never seen Traynor out of uniform. The woman was wearing a sleeveless, cropped compression top, allowing full view of the massive musculature of her arms and the pronounced definition of her abs. Her exercise shorts, coming only from hipbone to mid-thigh, allowed a similar view of her legs. Goddamn woman's build would put most men to shame, Park thought. It's a wonder she didn't kill Joesiar with her fists! She said, "I just came by to tell you you're free to travel … check out a shuttle, go to Thessia to see Yuán, if you like. Once she's released from rehab there, you're both on leave for thirty days, after which you'll each report to your new duty assignments."
"You're splitting us up?"
"Something like that. Yuán will be promoted and assigned to the SSV Tokyo. You'll be going to work with Alliance R&D, probably on Arcturus Station at first."
Traynor wasn't surprised at this turn of events—she had known for some time the program was ending, and fully expected that she and Xiùlán would be split up. "I take it then, that the MSV Anixara was destroyed?"
Park's face was an impassive mask as she replied, "Yes, it was. ANN is all over the story … they have a pretty impressive list of conspiracy theories, none of which are even close to the mark."
"So, what fucking good did we do, General? Seems to me the Alliance wasted a lot of resources, not to mention puttin' our goddamned lives at risk, and for what? The knowledge of how the ship was going to be destroyed? And that bastard Lang is still in the fucking wind!"
Park sighed heavily. "The Alliance stands to gain with that turian dead, Samantha" she said. "It is true, some innocent people died, but you and Buchanan eliminated some Cerberus thugs and determined how the ship was going to be destroyed. Searchers, including a few Alliance vessels, are still out there; none of them have a clue they're flying through the debris field."
Traynor shook her head, grabbed her towel and gear and moved to the heavy bag, where she began pummeling it as hard and as fast as she could. Park moved with her and stood in quiet amazement as Sammy unleashed her three-punch combo, over and over, hitting the bag with so much force the leather covering began to splinter and crack. She circled the bag in order to keep her blows from hitting the same spot continuously, but at some point the heavy leather cover would have split if she had continued; pausing to catch her breath, she looked at Park for a moment, then wordlessly turned, grabbed her gear and headed for the showers. The general watched with a heavy heart as Traynor walked away. After a few moments, Park sighed, turned and left the gym.
"My God, Sà mi! It's a wonder she didn't kick your ass out of the Alliance! She is … or was … on our side! What the hell happened?"
Traynor was trying to explain how her meeting with General Park had gone so badly, but was afraid to give Xiùlán the whole story over an unsecured connection. "I'll be with you tomorrow, Luv … I'll give you the whole story then. Soon as you're out of rehab, we both have thirty days leave … I'm kinda hoping we can go to Shanghai … visit your family. Might be the last chance we have for some time."
The grin Xiùlán had lit her entire face. "That sounds wonderful, Sà mǐ. Can't wait!"
"Okay … I'll see you tomorrow, Luv. Have a good night."