My dear, never forget that he was just a raindrop, but you are the entire fucking storm. – Nikita Gill
Húdié dāo – 蝴蝶刀– butterfly sword (knife in English)
Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
NDA – Non-Disclosure Agreement, signed by Yuán and Traynor at termination of the Ø7 program
Ø7 – An allegedly discontinued vocational code in the Systems Alliance military.
The Ø designates covert operations and the 7 refers to the highest level of proficiency.
Officer Rank Insignia – Vice Admiral (Ø-8), three stars; Admiral (Ø-9), four stars
SDU – Standard Duty Uniform
XO – Executive Officer
• SSV TOKYO, 3 KILOMETERS FROM ARCTURUS STATION •
Yuán Xiùlán stepped past a partition to see Lieutenant Olivia McKenzie, still in a med-bed recovering from her injuries during the battle with batarian and human slavers over the colony world of Elysium; the upper third of the bed had been tilted up so she could comfortably read. Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned her full attention to her visitor, offering a beaming smile as Yuan moved to stand beside the bed. Raising an arm towards her, she exclaimed, "Yuan! It's so good to see you! I'm going stir-crazy in here, and hardly anyone has come by to just … talk."
Xiùlán grasped Olivia's hand as she replied, "Damned good to see you awake, McKenzie. I'm told you really got slammed when that slug hit the hull."
"The med techs tell me the impact really rang my bell. The truth is I don't remember a thing about it … entire day is still hazy." Her expression turned somber as she concluded, "My dad always did say I had a hard head; I just wish that proving him right hadn't been so damned painful." Olivia looked down for a moment, then gave Xiùlán's hand a gentle squeeze as she looked back up to add in a sad voice, "I was luckier than the warrant officer that got killed down there—at least I can still complain about not remembering that day—he'll never have that chance."
Xiùlán grimaced at that, then gave Olivia's hand an answering squeeze as she asked solemnly, "When are you getting out of here?"
"Day and a half—they'll place me on light-duty for a few shifts once I'm on my feet, until they can be fairly certain my head won't explode."
"Light duty? Sounds like a desk job to me … that's something that very well could make your head explode … I know it'd do it for me," she answered with a light smile.
McKenzie laughed at that. "Your assumption just may be correct, Yuán, but it probably won't be any worse than laying here staring at the ceiling or looking at department reports on a datapad; at least I'll be able to get up, move around, go get meals instead of selecting things and having 'em brought to me on a tray."
Xiùlán nodded her understanding as she squeezed and released Olivia's hand. "I need to get back to it, but it's good to see you awake, McKenzie. I came by once—right after—but you were still in a coma. I'm glad you're recovering."
"No happier than I am to actually be recovering. Come by tomorrow? It's really nice to have some company … and Yuán? My friends call me 'Kenzie'."
"You got it … Kenzie … and I know it's tough, but hang in there …" Yuán replied, before adding in a tight voice, " … at least you're not facing weeks on your back."
Olivia looked closely at the woman and noticed an expression she hadn't seen before. Something told her that Yuán wasn't being evasive, it was just … a recent event, perhaps. McKenzie mused about the lieutenant's final statement as Xiùlán turned and left the Med Bay.
• SYSTEMS ALLIANCE, WESTERN NORTH AMERICA HQ · VANCOUVER, BC •
Admiral Owen Fletcher nervously waited for the QEC to establish its connection with the mysterious head of Cerberus known only as the Illusive Man. He didn't know why he had been summoned in the middle of the night, nor did he really care.
Fletcher had grown used to the perks that came with no longer worrying about having enough credits for retirement—he had enjoyed an extravagant lifestyle ever since pinning on his third star. By the time he'd made full admiral, he was living beyond paycheck-to-paycheck—while still performing in an exemplary manner every day, his love of high-priced women and high-stakes gambling had completely taken over his off-duty hours, making him a tempting blackmail target for the less than savory citizens of the Systems Alliance.
When the Illusive Man had first contacted him, Fletcher felt as if his prayers had been answered. All he had to do in return for a monthly gratuity—a very generous gratuity—was keep the Illusive Man advised about Alliance-run programs that might have an adverse effect on activities Cerberus needed them to turn a blind eye towards.
By the time the Illusive Man had asked Fletcher to rein in General Park's agents in the field, it was too late to interfere with them. The three-person squad had managed to sniff out and retrieve an asari artifact and get away, despite Fletcher's best efforts to imperceptibly turn an entire space station's security force against them.
Fletcher thought he'd heard the end of it when one of the bitches working for Park had been gravely injured, but he hadn't counted on asari gratitude; the blue squids had performed a minor miracle and saved her leg. The next operation Park had stuck her nose in had involved an assassination plot against a vocally anti-human turian named Raherix Ursivus. The assassin hired to do the job was sloppy—the remainder of Park's squad had gotten lucky, discovering how and when the assassin was going to strike.
Fletcher had to use all his powers of persuasion with Alliance Command to allow the plot to proceed to its inevitable conclusion. He had demanded—and received—triple his normal fee from Cerberus; additionally, he had convinced the other members of Alliance Command to terminate Park's pet program and ship her troublesome agents off to their chosen fields.
He had thought all his troubles behind him, but hadn't counted on being double-crossed by the Illusive Man—as Fletcher himself pocketed a handsome sum for his actions, the assassin had been short-changed out of his lucrative payday, and was looking to even the score with whomever was responsible. Michael Moser Lang had jumped him between his aircar and his home; with a knife at his throat, Fletcher had named the agents and their new duty stations. Lang couldn't reach the chink on the Tokyo, but he could certainly deal with the miserable half-breed bitch on Arcturus Station.
After a few weeks had gone by, Fletcher had thought he was in the clear; why he had been summoned for a meeting was a mystery that was about to be revealed. As his thoughts were interrupted by the clandestine quantum entanglement comm system answering its mated unit—from a location unknown by Fletcher—the swirling tornado of colored particles quickly resolved into an image of a well-dressed man sitting with legs crossed, drink in one hand and half-smoked cigarette between two fingers of the other, with an unknown red sun filling the background behind him.
The Illusive Man took a drag from his cigarette, blew the smoke up into the space above him and said, "Good evening, Admiral. I find myself in need of your assistance once again. You certainly must remember Michael Moser Lang … you recently gave him information about one of the agents that successfully discovered his plan to eliminate the problem of a vocal turian." He took another drag from his cigarette, then blew the smoke upward as he swirled the ice and liquid about in the glass he was holding.
When Fletcher didn't respond, he took a sip of liquid from the glass, then stared hard at the admiral as he continued speaking in a soothing tone. "It seems Mr Lang made his way to Arcturus, where he attempted to kill the woman that was sent to Arcturus Station. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't figured on encountering a bearcat … she nearly ripped one of his feet from the leg to which it was attached and was about to slice his throat from ear-to-ear; regrettably, she was prevented from completing that task, and Mr Lang is currently a guest of the Alliance, sitting in their lockup on the station."
Fletcher was beginning to see where this one-sided conversation was going. Saying, "So what. Let the bastard rot," he crossed his arms in a somewhat defiant posture.
The Illusive Man finished off his drink and set the glass in the receptacle on the arm of his chair. "I'm afraid that would be ill-advised, Admiral. Lang is unhappy with me and my organization, and now he's unhappy with the Alliance. I need him dealt with, before he can talk to an Alliance appointed lawyer. The man knows too much. It's up to you to take care of this problem, before it becomes our problem. Deal with him however you think best."
Fletcher was just beginning to voice a protest when the Illusive Man touched an invisible control, terminating the connection. Damn! Came the thought. Have to get in touch with someone on Arcturus … someone in a position to clandestinely kill that bastard Lang. The admiral left the QEC compartment and walked slowly to the closest exit. He needed a few hours to think, and he always did his best thinking after a few gin and tonics at the officer's club. Michael Moser Lang would soon become someone else's problem.
• SPECIALIST TRAYNOR'S RESIDENCE · ARCTURUS STATION •
Specialist Samantha Traynor had spent nearly her entire shift reconstructing and configuring a QEC terminal near the station's engineering section; she had finished testing the receiver section of the just overhauled unit and shut it down so she could go home for the evening.
Traynor hadn't stopped thinking about the unexpected presence of Michael Moser Lang on the station. As she rode the pedway through number three tube to the outer habitat ring, she mused, It's no coincidence that bastard showed up here—on this station—in an attempt to permanently shut me up … as if that goddamned NDA hadn't done a good enough job. Shit, at least the Alliance didn't execute me when they killed our program.
She continued to think about Lang's appearance here—coincidental? I think not!—as she entered her small living quarters; she used her omnitool to sweep the interior for listening devices or cameras. She hated having to live in a constant state of paranoia, but decided immediately after Lang had been taken into custody, she couldn't afford to take any chances.
To that end, she had inserted an undetectable sub-routine in the station's massive communications array. She couldn't monitor any of the QEC terminals on board; it actually would have been counter-productive to do so, as she would have to know who was on the other end of each and every call. The terminals were paired with several on Earth, along with a few on Mars, three on the Citadel, and one on each of the Alliance flagships within the fleet.
Traynor felt that monitoring open comms within the station would be much more productive, and she had kept the computer programs she'd once used while chasing down the ancient asari artifact and while searching for a way to stop Lang's plot to kill turian warmonger Raherix Ursivus. She keyed her terminal on and initiated the search program to look for any mention of her name or that of Lang. Leaving the terminal, she moved to her small kitchen to prepare a bit of dinner.
The terminal's alert tone interrupted her meal; the trace program had noted both names mentioned in the same message from Earth—specifically, Alliance HQ in Vancouver. An Admiral Fletcher had been speaking with his counterpart on this station, and what Traynor had heard did not bode well for Lang … or herself. However, she was now quite certain she knew the identity of the admiral in the upper command chain that had pushed so damned hard for General Park to terminate the Ø7 program, and had given up Traynor's current duty station and assignment to that bastard Lang. What she didn't know at the moment was what the hell to do about it; she had no real friends on this station, with the possible exception of Lieutenant Kelsey Winters, who had assisted Sammy when Lang had attacked her in the passageway outside her apartment.
She needed to inform Xiùlán, and General Park. There was no telling how deep this treacherous admiral had gone, but she'd be damned if she was going to allow the greedy bastard to implicate her in murdering Lang, and she sure-as-shit wasn't going to die just so he could continue to enjoy the extravagant payoffs Cerberus was obviously making to his account.
After checking a nearby chronometer, she decided to sleep on the information she had; in the morning, she'd armor up and contact General Park and Xiùlán. She wasn't going to take any chances with Cerberus operatives being on the station.
• ARCTURUS STATION · AT LARGE •
Having donned her armor, húdié dāo and kinetic shield generator, Traynor activated her personal comms terminal and placed a secure call to General Park in order to inform her about her discoveries regarding Alliance top brass in Vancouver. After initiating the call, Sammy was forced to wait nearly five minutes for Park to appear; the general sounded grumpy as she said, "Traynor! Why in hell are you calling me at this ungodly hour?"
Sammy placed a hand over her mouth for a moment as realization struck her—it was probably the middle of the night in Vancouver. "I'm terribly sorry, Ma'am. I didn't check local time before I placed this call, but it's imperative I speak with you, now. You need to know you have a traitor in your midst."
Park's eyes widened slightly at this. Pinching her temples between thumb and fingers for a moment, she dropped her hand and looked directly at Sammy. "Okay, Specialist, let's hear what you have."
As Traynor told General Park about her interception of the comms call between Admiral Owen Fletcher in Vancouver and the commander in charge of Arcturus station, Rae Lee's expression gradually changed from annoyance at the late hour of the call to grim understanding of Traynor's reasons for placing it.
When Sammy fell silent, Park rubbed her temples again as she thought about the implications of Fletcher's self-centered betrayal of the Alliance. Dropping her hands, she returned her gaze to Traynor and asked, "Have you shared this with anyone besides me, Specialist?"
"After his original attack on me, I notified Yuán on the Tokyo and Buchanan on the other side of the station," came the reply. "I was going to see Lieutenant Winters next, since she was the one holding a gun on Lang in the first place … let her know what's …"
"Not a good idea, Sammy," Park interrupted. "There's something about Winters that just seems … off, if you take my meaning. I would be very careful around that woman."
Traynor nodded her understanding, then asked, "Can you recommend someone else in this section of the station that I can talk to?
After a few moments of looking down at something out of Traynor's view, Park returned her attention to the specialist and replied, "Unfortunately, I know of no one in that section I would feel comfortable in recommending to you, Sammy … I'm sorry."
Traynor looked down for a moment, then looked back at the general's image. "Looks as if it has to be Winters, then. She's the OC of my section … it'd be difficult for me to justify going around her concerning this problem. What's your feeling about the station's commander? Is he part of the problem as well?"
Park's answer was immediate. "I've known General Nathan Chandler for nearly a decade, Sammy … he's been commander of that station since 2160. He's always been a by-the-book sort of guy—and totally trustworthy. I find it difficult to believe he'd be capable of working for an organization like Cerberus, but I'll do what I can to look into it."
"Okay, Ma'am. I'm forwarding a copy of Admiral Fletcher and General Chandler's conversation … perhaps it will help you convince his colleagues to deep-six him." Traynor took a quick look at the elapsed time for the call, then added, "I have to cut this short, General. I'm going to call Yuán on the Tokyo—the ship's still in the system, but will be departing in two days or so. I also need to warn Buchanan—he's assigned to engineering on the other side of the habitat ring."
General Park sighed. "Dammit, Traynor. I can't seem to pull your ass out of the frying pan. How is it trouble always finds you and docks itself on your shoulders?"
Traynor frowned grimly as she responded, "I'd like the answer to that as well. I'll check back with you soon … during daylight hours, if I can manage it."
Park's smile gradually returned as she said, "Be careful, Specialist. Don't get yourself injured or killed." Chuckling lightly, she concluded with, "Yuán would never forgive me."
Traynor nodded as she cut the connection. After sending the information to Park's Extranet address, she placed a call to Xiùlán, followed by a call to Griff; both expressed amazement that such a highly placed officer as Fletcher was committing acts of treason in order to make himself rich. Sammy had told them greed was a powerful motivator; it had taken the admiral down a path that would undoubtedly end badly for him.
Once she had finished speaking with Buchanan and Xiùlán, she secured the comms terminal and wiped its record of her calls; she expected the discovery of her conversation with General Park would not be looked on with any sympathy by other members of Alliance command. After glancing around her apartment, she left for the short walk to Lieutenant Winters' office, hoping as she walked that she could uncover just how far the shadow of Admiral Fletcher's corruption had spread.
After scanning Lieutenant Winters office for listening and recording devices, Sammy had shared the recording of Admiral Fletcher's recent conversation with General Nathan Chandler, the station's commander; Winters listened in stunned, open-mouthed silence to Fletcher's instructions concerning the final disposition of the prisoner Lang, along with a certain, nosy little bitch named Traynor. He had even read off Traynor's Alliance ID number so there would be no doubt about the person needing to be eliminated.
"I don't know what to say, Specialist. The message seems quite clear—Admiral Fletcher wants the CO to find a way to kill Lang and implicate you in his murder, then kill you as you attempt to keep from being taken into custody." She shook her head in disbelief as she concluded, "I think I'm beginning to appreciate your paranoia concerning Alliance brass. How in the hell did you get your hands on this?"
"Just doing my job, Lieutenant," Traynor replied in a serious voice. "In addition to rebuilding the QEC terminals, I repair and maintain the main comms systems for the entire station. Part of what I do involves monitoring quality of communications through the relays." Well, that part is mostly true, she thought. "Listening to this message leads me to believe Admiral Fletcher was responsible for the termination of the Ø7 program."
"Who else have you shared this information with, Specialist?"
Every hair on the back of Sammy's neck stood at attention at this seemingly innocent question … Is Winters on the take as well? How deep has Cerberus entered into the mundane, day-to-day operations of the Systems Alliance? "No one, Ma'am," she lied, hoping as she said the words that her conversation with General Park on Earth and with her Inamorata on the Tokyo, along with Griffen Buchanan, wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass. Yuán had promised to share the recording with her own XO as soon as possible; Xiùlán felt she could trust Commander Tyler with the information, relieving Sammy of any concern for Yuán's safety. Traynor had also forwarded a copy to Buchanan in an attempt to keep him safe as well.
"That's good, Samantha … We need to contain the bullshit to just this facility. For now, let's walk over to the detention block, make sure the on-duty staff knows what may happen to Lang." After a brief pause, she added, "I would never have expected a high-ranking Alliance officer to be complicit in murdering a prisoner. This is beyond anything I've ever had to deal with."
"It hasn't happened yet, Ma'am … they still need to implicate me so I can be murdered for my attempt to evade capture and confinement … they don't want me locked up, Lieutenant. I'd sing just as loudly as Lang … he will almost certainly have to be killed in my presence."
Winters nodded in understanding, then apologized to Sammy as she clipped a heavy pistol to the socket on her belt. "Sorry I can't arm you as well, Specialist."
Thinking, Oh, I just bet you're fuckin' sorry! You already threatened to shoot me over my wanting to slice that stinkin' bastard, she thought to herself as she lied to Winters again. "That's quite alright, Ma'am. Wouldn't know what to do with a gun anyway." She surreptitiously sent a terse message to Buchanan as she walked behind the Lieutenant, saying only that she might be needing help … fast. After closing out her omnitool, she reconfigured it for combat. Unfortunately, Winters had seen one of the two butterfly swords she always had strapped to her lower calves, but the lieutenant hadn't seen the multiple weapons her omnitool was capable of generating. Traynor silently took a number of deep, calming breaths as she followed Winters into the detention block.
The sergeant on duty looked up as Winters and Traynor walked into the main reception area. "Lieutenant … Specialist? What may I do for you today?"
Winters answered, saying, "There's a rumor … probably no truth to it … that Cerberus has landed an assassin on the station to take care of Lang for you. You haven't seen anyone nosing around, asking about him, have you?"
The sergeant had stiffened slightly at Winters explanation, but otherwise remained as he was, replying, "You're the first person that's asked about him since we locked 'im away, Lieutenant. Does anyone in their right mind really think they could get in here and kill one of my detainees without us knowing?"
"Just following up, Sergeant. May we see him? Just to be sure?"
The sergeant cocked his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Ma'am. No one from outside is permitted in the lockup."
"What about lawyers, Sergeant? Surely …"
"Visitors' wing next door, by appointment. Secure rooms, monitored visually but not recorded. Lawyers and their clients have all the privacy they need there." Looking down at his monitors, he added, "Lang is taking it easy … not a care in the world."
"So, he's being cooperative?" Winters pressed. "Not causing any trouble?"
"He's a model detainee, Ma'am. Couldn't ask for better. Won't speak about why he's here, nor speculate on how he's getting out, and as I said, there's been no one asking to see him."
Winters, it seemed, had run out of questions, so Traynor asked, "Sergeant, do you have eyes on 'im 'round the clock?"
The sergeant looked at Traynor with the same raised eyebrow expression as before. "Not sure what you're implying, Specialist. The cameras are on all the time—low-light sensors at night, and this desk is manned around the clock."
"What happens when you or your counterparts have to answer nature's call, Sergeant … does someone continue to watch these monitors?"
The sergeant's expression hardened slightly as he replied. "There are other monitors, Specialist, with people watching them … there's never a time when Lang isn't under observation."
Traynor nodded, saying, "Apologies, Sergeant … I'm not questioning the security in here … it's just that Lang is a free-lance merc whose most recent employer was Cerberus, and before you ask, the answer is I cannot tell you how I know of this, except to say his attempt on my life is why he's locked up."
"You were the one holding a blade against his throat?"
"That was me, Sergeant, after he knocked me down and attempted to kick my ribs in."
Winters interrupted, saying, "Come on, Specialist … let's go. We've taken enough of the sergeant's time." Thanking the man for speaking with them, she led the way out of the reception area and started back for her own offices. Sammy followed her out, thinking as she did that she was no closer to learning who had been sent to Arcturus to end Lang … or her.
Once outside of the detention block, Sammy's omnitool came to life, silently indicating it had received a message each from Xiùlán and General Park. Thinking, 'Area must really be shielded against comms frequencies,' she decided to wait until she was alone to read the messages. Moving to walk beside the lieutenant, she said, "It's already been a long morning, and I need to go to work."
Winters glanced at her as she walked, responding with, "Go ahead, Specialist … I'll do some nosing around, see if I can discover if there are agents already here. I'll see you later." As Traynor walked away, Winters silently activated her omnitool and sent a quick text message.
After making sure she was out of sight of Lieutenant Winters, Specialist Traynor opened her omnitool and read the messages from Xiùlán and General Park. Xiùlán had shared Traynor's concerns with Commander Tyler, the Tokyo's XO; she in turn had promised to immediately inform Captain Anderson. General Park had spoken privately with Leon Gibbs, a Marine general assigned to Alliance Central Command; Gibbs held a rank equivalent to that of Admiral Fletcher's four stars, so could not be coerced into looking the other way concerning Fletcher's transgressions.
Traynor had nearly reached the entrance hatch to her apartment block when she heard the muffled sound of boots, running up behind her. Turning to see who was following her, she was nearly hit by what appeared to be an old-fashioned baseball bat. The man wielding it, along with the other five behind him, were all dressed in Marine SDU's, and were all equipped with either baseball bats or … Shit! Is that a golf club? No matter … Traynor quickly sized up all six as she slipped into her combat trance, seemingly slowing down all the events happening around her.
Pulling both of her Húdié dāo, she spun in place as she buried one knife in the right side of the first thug, then dodged the blow coming from the other side as she rewarded the second man's effort by nearly removing his head. Two down.
The surviving four men, obviously having expected an easy time of taking care of a lowly comms specialist, checked up, slowing a bit in an attempt to double-team her. The third man swung what appeared to be a nine-iron; Sammy countered with a parry from the alloy baseball bat she'd retrieved from the first man down. Her assailant hollered in shock when the shaft of his makeshift club connected with the unyielding alloy held by a person in possession of nearly three times his muscle mass. Traynor cleared her new club of the obstruction, then used the large end as a blunt spear to strike him forcefully in the middle of his torso; this caused his diaphragm to spasm uncontrollably, dropping him to the deck as he gasped for air that was no longer being drawn into his lungs.
As he went down, Traynor squatted to allow the man behind her to grasp at a shadow; as he staggered off balance, she exploded straight up, leading with the bat held crosswise between her hands. The thug never saw the blow that hit him in the face; as he fell over backwards with blood coming from his nose and mouth, the last two decided running away would be the wisest thing to do.
Activating her omnitool with a flick of her wrist, Sammy quickly launched four flash-forged tóuzhí xīngxīng [投擲星星]—throwing stars, each of their four blade edges coated in an extremely toxic nerve agent. Both of the last two assailants fell victim to these; the blades barely scratching them as they flew past their bodies, allowing the fast-acting poison to quickly disable their autonomic nervous systems. They died from suffocation as they fell to the deck.
Looking around herself quickly, Traynor brought her hands up in front of her chest, took a deep breath and exhaled. Walking over to the man with the bloody face, she leaned over slightly in order to grasp the front of his shirt at the collar. Pulling the man's weight clear of the deck, she ignored his cries of pain as she hissed through clenched teeth, "Who the fuck sent you? Why are you targeting me?"
The man gasped as he struggled to comprehend how this simple comms specialist had so convincingly dropped him. "We was supposed to grab you, take you to the docks and toss your body out an airlock."
"Who sent you and these other mutherfuckers?"
"Lieutenant—named Winters." The man was nearly crying from the pain as Traynor dropped him. Winters, she thought. Looks as if General Park was correct about her. Sammy retrieved her Húdié dāo; after wiping the blades on her victims clothes, she shoved them back into their sheathes and began walking. She was going to have a little chat with Lieutenant Winters.
Sammy activated her kinetic shield as she entered Kelsey Winters office and latched the door behind her; Winters looked up, surprise plain on her face. "Specialist Traynor … what are … I mean, why are you here?" It was patently obvious from the lieutenant's expression and tone of voice she hadn't expected to see Traynor—at least not alive—ever again. Standing from her chair, she quickly grabbed a heavy pistol; with the muzzle aimed squarely at Traynor, she sneered, "I don't know how in hell you managed to evade being captured by my squad of merc marines, but I don't intend to allow you the same success in here. Keep your hands where I can see them, Specialist."
Traynor was gambling that Winters wouldn't simply shoot her before answering some questions. "Why do this, Winters? What do you hope to accomplish by eliminating me? Is my existence that much of a threat to Cerberus?"
"I don't ask for the reasoning, and the Illusive Man doesn't pay me to hear excuses. Michael Moser Lang is sitting in an Alliance lockup; it's probably where he'll die."
Traynor shook her head slightly at this revelation. "Son of a bitch wasn't supposed to be here, was he? So, why not simply let me slice his throat?" The specialist suddenly realized that Cerberus may have shorted Lang's payday for killing Raherix Ursivus. If that was the case, he must have gone to see the traitorous Admiral Fletcher at Alliance HQ in Vancouver. "He learned about my current assignment from Fletcher and came here to settle a score, didn't he?"
Winters chuckled as she answered, "Lang didn't receive a bonus that had been promised him; I expect Admiral Fletcher was the recipient of those credits for pushing the other admirals to allow that fucking chicken-faced bastard's death, and to terminate your little clandestine program. That's the sort of thing that makes people mad, especially paid assassins."
"So, does your loyalty to Cerberus override the oath you swore when you joined the Alliance military, or is plain ol' greed for their creds enough?"
"A little bit of both, I guess. And here's the thing, Specialist. I intend to kill you in self-defense, and there's not a damned thing you can do to stop me. You may have some crazy-assed martial arts skills, but I seriously doubt you can dodge a bullet." So saying, Kelsey pulled the trigger, firing the gun she had been pointing at Traynor since the specialist had entered the office. Unfortunately for Winters, Traynor had anticipated this and was ready; seemingly faster than thought, she leaned backwards while turning 90 degrees the instant Winters uttered the words 'a bullet', resulting in the round passing so close to Sammy's chest it flew through her kinetic barrier from left to right.
Activating her omnitool, Traynor sent a massive overload at Winters; this overwhelmed the gun's heatsink, forcing the lieutenant to let the gun fall to the floor in order to avoid burns to her hand and fingers. "Okay, Lieutenant … it's your move. If you're smart, you'll come with me quietly. I'll even ask security if they have a nice cell for you right next to Lang's … that way, when Cerberus shows up to eliminate loose ends, you'll be conveniently located side-by-side."
After dropping the overheated pistol, Winters had taken several steps back from Traynor as she said in protest, "It was nothing personal, Specialist, and honestly, I'd rather have you beat me to death than sit in a cell next to Lang and worry about how long it will be before a Cerberus assassin arrives to kill me. Taking Lang down the way you did … nearly ripping his foot from his leg … was quite unexpected, but it doesn't matter … no way I'm going to jail, and, if I somehow manage to pull this off, I'll get paid whether I shoot you or kill you with my bare hands."
Traynor smirked as she raised and spread her arms slightly while crouching in anticipation. "You can try."
A brief look of concern crossed Winters' face as she crouched, then sprang into action; taking three rapid steps forward, she attempted to bowl Traynor over bodily. Sammy responded by grabbing both of Kelsey's forearms; holding on with a vise-like grip, she dragged the surprised woman around with her as she spun about, fell onto her butt and rolled onto her back while placing her booted feet in Kelsey's hip joints, then violently straightening her legs with every bit of her strength, launching Winters in an arc through the air to crash—head down and back-first—into the metal bulkhead at the rear of the compartment.
Traynor was on her feet and on top of Winters before she could gather her wits together; as the Lieutenant struggled to get loose, Traynor hit her in the face twice with her gauntleted fist, breaking her nose and fracturing her left eye socket. Grabbing the thoroughly overmatched woman by the open neck of her SDU, she yanked her to her feet and slammed a fist into her lower abdomen, doubling Winters over, where her chest and head encountered the top of an armored thigh being brought up to meet her. Traynor finished by grabbing the back of her collar and her equipment belt and ramming her headfirst into the cabinets beside her desk to lay bleeding and motionless.
Samantha brought her hands together in front of her chest, took a deep breath, then released it before bringing up her omnitool to call station security. Lieutenant Kelsey Winters was going to need some medical attention before she could be hauled off to the brig. While she waited, Traynor hacked into Kelsey's terminal, where she discovered a virtual treasure trove of files concerning her association with Cerberus, along with records of payments going back several years. She downloaded everything she found to her omnitool, then closed the terminal and locked it with a new passcode.
A sergeant and a corporal entered through the main door as Traynor finished looking for the vid-files that should have been stored nearby. 'Dammit—she must have turned the vid-feed off as I arrived—didn't want any evidence left of her shooting me.' The sergeant cocked his head as he recognized Traynor, saying, "Twice in three days, Specialist? Bit of a coincidence, or is this going to become a bad habit?"
"My apologies, Sergeant … I seem to have become a target for agents employed by Cerberus. Lieutenant Winters sent a group of mercs to grab and toss me out an airlock; I left 'em where I dropped 'em, near the entrance to my housing complex." Waving a hand, she indicated Kelsey Winters. "The lieutenant here thought she could shoot me … you'll probably find the bullet …" Traynor pointed to a spot behind the sergeant, " … buried in that wall. When her pistol overheated, she decided to attempt a physical altercation." Sam shook her head from side-to-side as she continued, "She'll need to be hospitalized for some facial reconstruction before you can place her in the brig."
After checking Winters' injuries, the sergeant let out a low whistle and said, "My god, Specialist … what the hell did you use to hit her? She looks like she tangled with a damned Krogan."
The corporal had called for a Med-Evac team to take Lieutenant Winters to the nearby hospital's military wing. The sergeant covered his ear with a hand for several moments before fixing Traynor with an unfriendly look. "I've just been told about the bodies lying around near the entrance to your quarters, Specialist; they're all dressed as Marines. You say they're mercs … how do you know?"
"Have you ever known a dishonorable Marine, Sergeant? Do you think for one moment that a group of six Marines would attempt to kidnap a fellow service member and either kill her or pitch her out an airlock? Those men were all mercs. If they honestly are just Marines, then they're traitors to the uniform and deserved what they received."
"I'm told that five of those men are dead, Specialist, and the sixth man will have to eat strained baby food for a month or more," the sergeant said as he shook his head in open skepticism. "Are you really sure about their status, Ms Traynor?"
"I make no apologies for defending myself, Sergeant. I don't fight to take prisoners … if Winters dies, or that merc can't eat steaks the rest of his life, I really don't care … if I hadn't done what I did, I'd most likely be in hospital now … or dead, and I can assure you … either outcome would bother me, a lot. Those six bastards I took down worked for Cerberus," she exclaimed, then waved her hand at the silent form of Lieutenant Winters as a pair of Medtechs carried her away, "as did this so-called lieutenant." Traynor placed her hands on her hips and shifted her weight as she cocked one leg back. "Now, I'd like to go to my quarters, shed this armor and wash up, have a bite to eat, then write my report. You know where I live, Sergeant. I'll come see you in the morning."
The Marine silently looked at Traynor for several seconds before finally nodding in agreement. "Get going, Specialist. We can talk tomorrow. Just … try to stay out of trouble until then, okay?"
"Traynor grinned as she replied, "I'll do my best, Sergeant."
General RaeLee Park looked thoroughly relieved at being able to talk to Traynor again so soon after her previous conversation; her relief seemed to fade as Sammy told her of the multiple attempts on her life. "You were correct to be suspicious of Winters, Ma'am … she would have shot me if I hadn't dodged, then cooked her pistol. I'm going to forward you copies of everything I discovered in the files in her office. She's been taking payments from Cerberus for years. Were you able to take any action against Admiral Fletcher?"
Park's expression changed subtly to one of some mental anguish. "Extraordinary thing here, Specialist … Admiral Fletcher's aide found him in his office this afternoon … dead. Self-inflicted gunshot to the head. I guess knowing he'd been caught was more than he could stand. I can't say I'm sorry for his death … he was dirty, Sammy … Son of a bitch had been taking payments since he was a vice-admiral. Despite living a rather extravagant lifestyle, he had quite a fortune socked away, apparently all from Cerberus."
Traynor's expression was a mixture of grim and angry. "So, he was ultimately responsible for allowing the assassination of Raherix Ursivus to proceed and for getting the Ø7 program shut down. I don't suppose there's any chance of reactivating the program now that you and the other admirals know Cerberus was calling the shots, is there?"
Park looked down for a moment, then returned her gaze to Traynor's image. "I'm afraid it's too late for that, Specialist … I'm sorry. We have to see just how many decisions from the upper brass were tainted by the influence from Cerberus. I don't know how long that will take, but I expect it will not be a speedy process. However, I'll see what I can do to get some of the restrictions on service records … particularly yours and Yuan's … lifted, so your superiors now and in the future will have some idea of your true capabilities. I think the admirals owe you that much, at least."
Traynor smiled as she replied, "Thank you, Ma'am. I'd really appreciate that, and I'm sure Xiùlán will as well. I'll stay in touch … keep you informed about developments here."
"Always a pleasure to talk to you, or Lieutenant Yuán. Stay safe."
A/N: About the Officer Rank Insignias listed above: In the early 21st century, the actual title for a two-star Navy admiral is 'Rear Admiral Upper Half', or simply 'Rear Admiral', with a USDoD paygrade of Ø-8; a three-star Navy admiral's title is 'Vice Admiral', with a paygrade of Ø-9. During the production of ME1, the Alliance Navy rankings seem to have been created from a combination of various nations and services, with some ranks omitted completely while others were pulled out of the history books—an example of this is Normandy pilot Jeff Moreau's rank of Flight Lieutenant, which originated in the British Naval Air Service and transitioned to the Royal Air Force. While Flight Lieutenant does not appear to be an active official rank in any country's Navy, it still appears in the rank structure of several Air Forces. In practice and for the purposes of this story, it is equivalent to a Navy rank of Lieutenant, with a paygrade of Ø-3.