Some days I am more wolf than woman, and I am still learning how to stop apologizing for my wild. — Nikita Gill

Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
LCDR – Abbreviation for 'Lieutenant Commander'; may also be 'LtCdr' or 'Lt Cdr'
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.
XO – Executive Officer

• ARCTURUS STATION · SPECIALIST TRAYNOR'S QUARTERS •

Samantha Traynor rose at her normal time of 0530; after shedding her sleepshirt and relieving her bladder, she moved into the small kitchen, there to start a kettle of water heating for a cup of tea. When she moved to turn around, she was met with a pair of strong arms wrapping around her nude torso. "You always wander around in here like a newborn, Sà mi?"

Overcoming her shock, Traynor instantly threw her arms around her inamorata, purring, "Xiùlán … this is a welcome surprise." She planted a big kiss on a mouth displaying a combination smile and smirk. "Not that it matters at all to me, but what brings you to the station?"

Xiùlán gently slid her hands down until she could grasp Sammy's muscular butt. "Commander Nolan gave me a shore pass, based on XO Tyler's recommendation. The Tokyo isn't scheduled to leave for another day, and Nolan and Tyler could both see I was distracted by the situation over here." Keeping a hand on Sammy's bare butt, she slid her other hand back up to gently rub her neck and shoulders.

Sammy had melted into Xiùlán's embrace, feeling some of her tension dissolve under the familiar feel of Xiùlán's hands. "Damn! You can do that forever, Luv. I've really missed your touch." Sammy kissed Xiùlán again, then forced herself to back away. "Water's almost ready for tea; make yourself at home for a few while I take a shower and get dressed."

Xiùlán admired her lover's firm backside as she walked back to the bathroom; when Sammy was out of sight, the lieutenant turned towards the small stove to make herself a cup of tea. Taking a seat at the table, she would sip her tea and listen for the shower water to be turned off before pouring a cup for Sammy.

"So, this Admiral Fletcher was betraying us, dancing to whatever tune Cerberus played, since the very beginning of our training?" Xiùlán was trying to understand how one greedy person could sabotage their entire program. "I'm having a really difficult time understanding this, Sà mi! And no one, not even General Park, suspected this yīgè liú koushui de jìnü de érzi [個流口水的妓女的兒子 – son of a drooling prostitute] of being bought and paid for?"

Traynor sipped her tea as she thought for a moment before responding. "You remember when we were on Mars, and I told you the school was going to be shut down? General Park may have suspected, but she never said anything to us … especially me! Fuckin' 'ell, Xiùlán … she didn't dare, considering what a conspiracy theorist I am!" Traynor took another sip of tea, studied her mug for several moments, then continued. "So now, because that dirty bastard's shriveled up nut sack prevented him from standing up to a scum–sucking vorcha like Lang, we have a situation similar to that which existed on Mars—a pair of Cerberus lowlifes in Alliance lockup, waiting for the termination of their sad, lonely lives. Question is, what can we do to prevent that … or do we even want to?"

"How secure is the brig on this station, Ai? [愛 – Love (Xiùlán's meaning is 'luv')] This is an Alliance run facility, and unlike holding facilities available on the Citadel, access to that section here should be a lot more difficult." Xiùlán finished her mug of tea and stood, stretched, then took the mug to the sink as Traynor thought about the question.

"I believe the people assigned to guard duty are above reproach, but it would still be possible for an Alliance serviceman, bought and paid for by Cerberus, to be transferred in with no one the wiser. Look how easy it was for a squad of fake Marines to get on the station in order to attack me."

"Sounds like we need to have a talk with General Chandler … if we can even get in to see him."

"Shouldn't be difficult … I expect General Park may have already talked to him," Traynor replied. "If that is the case, then he will probably be calling me in for a meeting."

Xiùlán wondered, "Will you need me to go with you, Sà mi? I don't know if it'll make any difference, but I'll be here for a few hours more."

Traynor smiled at her inamorata. "If Chandler wished to see me, I'm sure one of his aides will send the request to my extranet address. Why don't we go to the hospital, see if Winters is willing to answer a few questions."

Yuán chuckled, saying, "We'd have better luck asking Lang for answers, and you already mentioned that no one's getting in to see him except his lawyers. Personally, I would like to see him face a tribunal with a JAG lawyer … might be able to get a serious conviction instead of a slap on the wrist."

• ARCTURUS STATION • SECURE MEDICAL STATION •

Kelsey Winters had been drifting in and out of consciousness since being moved back to the intensive care unit after station doctors repositioned the fractured bones of her nose; they had also covered her left eyelids with medigel, gauze and an adhesive patch, saying the swelling had to subside before they could repair the injury to the underlying bone. She also had a mild concussion—relatively mild, considering the force with which she'd been slammed into her deskside cabinets—which was lessening slowly after the pressure on her brain had been relieved. The balance of her injuries were minor in comparison, and would heal on their own while she recuperated from her surgeries.

After cracking her right eye open to see who had entered and coughed to clear their throat, she quickly closed the eye as she murmured through swollen lips, "Get out." The last person she wanted to see or talk to was Samantha Traynor; unfortunately, the bitch was standing at the foot of her bed—worse, she had brought another woman with her.

Traynor said in a cheerful voice, "Aw, come on, Kelsey … don't be that way. I just came by to see how you're doing."

With a bit of difficulty, Winters ground out, "Hardly think so, 'sidering your vicious attack."

Traynor moved up alongside the med bed as she replied in the same cheerful tone, "I was only defending myself, Kelsey." Traynor continued to address Winters by her first name—she sure as hell wasn't going to use her rank. "The beating I gave you was mild, considering your attempt to put a bullet in my chest."

"Get out!" The woman's right eye, barely visible behind hooded lids, gleamed with a combination of absolute hatred and outright fear of this unassuming comms specialist.

"Okay, Kelsey … it's obvious you don't wish to have any company. But you might want to consider, I may be your best chance on making it out of here alive … think about it." As she moved to rejoin Xiùlán, she raised her voice slightly, saying, "Guard?"

The door slid open to admit a muscular–looking Marine corporal. "Ma'am?"

"Corporal, I want you to be our witness that Ms Winters is still alive, and all her monitors are still displaying the same numbers as when we entered."

The Marine had been told some of what had transpired to land Lieutenant Winters in the ICU, and that her life might be at risk from outside agents. "So noted, Specialist."

"Thank you, Corporal. FYI, the vid recording of this encounter will be forwarded to Alliance Command on Earth, just to show our total lack of involvement if anything should happen to Ms Winters after our departure." Traynor led the way out of Winters' room as she added, "Come on, Ms Yuán … let's pay a visit to General Chandler, see if he has any more info about how deep the Cerberus shit–pile on this station actually runs." Imperceptibly shaking her head, Xiùlán smiled as she followed Sammy down the passageway.

• OFFICE OF GENERAL NATHAN CHANDLER, ARCTURUS STATION •

General Nathan Chandler was re-reading the incident reports concerning Specialist Samantha Traynor—these included her altercation with Michael Moser Lang, since revealed to be an assassin occasionally employed by Cerberus, her total domination of six … six! … former Alliance Marines, five of whom were in cold–storage lockers in the morgue, with the sixth man still in the hospital, recovering from facial reconstruction surgery. And now, a formally respected Alliance lieutenant—since revealed to be allied with Cerberus—was also in the hospital, having fallen victim to a merciless beating by Specialist Traynor.

As he finished reading the final report, the chime signaling an access request brought his head up to look at his entry door. Touching a control on the desktop Haptic interface, he queried his enlisted aide. "Corporal Decker?"

"Two to see you, General. Specialist Samantha Traynor and Lieutenant Yuán Xiùlán."

Activating another control on his desktop released the locks on his door as he replied, "Send them in, Corporal, and hold all my calls. I should be done in thirty minutes or less."

A crisp, "Yes, Sir," was followed by the segmented door retracting to admit the two young women. Chandler stood from his chair to greet them, directing them to chairs at a nearby table. After asking if either of them would care for a beverage, he promptly brought a silver tray to the table; this contained several mugs emblazoned with the Systems Alliance logo, along with a similarly marked teapot, a creamer, sugar bowl and several spoons.

The general prepared a mug of tea for himself after seeing to his guests; taking a seat across from them, he sipped from his mug before setting it down and directing his attention to Specialist Traynor. "I've read all the reports concerning your … extracurricular … activities during the past several days, Ms Traynor. If I was back on the Citadel or on Earth, I'd have a difficult time believing the reports of your physical prowess and you martial arts expertise."

Taking another sip of tea, he added, "General RaeLee Park assures me your successes in repelling physical attacks are no accident; rather, they're the result of months of rather specialized training. I consider it a privilege to have been read into a small portion of your redacted service record …" he turned his attention to Xiùlán as he finished, "along with yours, Lieutenant Yuán."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Sammy needed to know just how much General Chandler knew about her past in order to tell him what he needed to know without violating the NDA she had signed for General Park.

"You can say whatever you wish, Specialist … you as well, Lieutenant. I really want to understand how a seemingly simple comms specialist is still alive after being attacked on three separate occasions." Looking at Yuán, he added, "And just what is your interest here, Lieutenant?"

Xiùlán answered first, saying "Sammy and I went through training together, on the moon and on Mars. She needed specialized instruction in hand–to–hand combat; I needed specialized instruction in electronics—it was a mutually beneficial relationship, one that deepened during our months together in school and on special assignments. She saved my life during our last mission together …"

Traynor interrupted, "and Yuán saved my life during one of our first missions. As she said, mutually beneficial. She's here to visit with me before the Tokyo shoves off for its next assignment in the Traverse."

"I see," Chandler quietly replied. He finished his tea, as did Xiùlán and Sammy.

Traynor continued, "Did General Park tell you of Admiral Fletcher's betrayal of his oath … and his suicide?"

"She did … she also told me it was he that betrayed your location here on Arcturus to that assassin … Lang." Chandler was silent for several moments before continuing, "What I have not been told is why he would even care about finding you, Specialist."

Sammy's intense honey–brown eyes studied Xiùlán's. "Sir, you do understand that the NDA I signed prohibits me from telling you how Lang knows of me, other than that he threatened Admiral Fletcher's life in order to obtain my location."

Xiùlán interrupted her, saying, "General, Ms Traynor was assigned to uncover details of a Cerberus funded plot to assassinate an anti–human turian agitator; Michael Moser Lang was the agent Cerberus hired. The assassination was successful, but …"

"Xiùlán, no! You must not!" Sammy used her eyes to implore her Inamorata to not divulge any more info.

Xiùlán looked at Sammy as she placed a loving hand on her leg under the table. Returning her attention to the general, she continued on. "Apparently, Cerberus paid a substantial bonus to Admiral Fletcher, who had been divulging information to them for a number of years. His task was to persuade the other top brass to allow the plot to go forward unimpeded; he was also required to convince the others to end our Ø7 program and seal our records."

Chandler said, "I don't see how that translates into Lang showing up here, Lieutenant."

Traynor answered for Yuán by saying, "Our best guess is the bonus Cerberus paid Admiral Fletcher was taken from the bonus previously promised to Lang. He didn't like being screwed by the Illusive Man and felt we were to blame; as I was the only one of our team readily accessible, he decided to take his frustrations out on me."

Chandler nodded in understanding, adding, "So, it would appear that Lieutenant Winters aided and abetted Lang's access to your residential wing, Ms Traynor. Must be why she arrived so quickly after you sounded the alarm." He picked up the teapot and poured himself another mug full of the steaming beverage. After glancing questioningly at each of his guests, he set the pot back on the tray, took a sip from his mug and remarked, "It is a mystery to me why she didn't allow you to slice his throat with that big–assed knife you pack around … thoughts?"

"She may have thought she'd be in the clear if she contained the situation … allowing a notorious assassin such as Lang to be taken into custody would keep her involvement with Cerberus hidden," Traynor said in a thoughtful tone of voice. "Lang isn't speaking to anyone because he still thinks he can get out of the mess into which his thoughtless vendetta has dumped him. As for Winters, she told me she'd rather be beaten to death than have to sit in a cell next to Lang worrying about how long it would be before a Cerberus assassin showed up to finish her."

" … which is where she'll be once she recovers from her injuries," Chandler responded.

Traynor exchanged a meaningful glance with Xiùlán, who responded, "Sir, I wouldn't bet on that woman getting out of the hospital at all, unless it's feet first. Access to her is several orders easier than getting to her in lock–up would be. I'd be surprised if she lives beyond the end of the week."

"There's a guard at … " the general began.

"Nurses, Sir. Attendants … so many more people have access to Ms Winters than will ever be able to see her in lockup. An air bubble introduced into her IV tube …?" Xiùlán shrugged her shoulders. "Lots of ways to do it … hard to predict, harder still to prevent."

Chandler nodded in understanding. "Sounds like I need to limit staff access to the lieutenant … make doubly sure everyone's been properly vetted."

"Or … " Xiùlán said, "you could offer her a deal, Sir. Protection, maybe even immunity … get her to talk, reveal what she knows. I expect she's aware of other Cerberus agents on this station; it would certainly be nice to learn how entrenched they are."

The general rose from his chair at the sound of a chime from the vicinity of his desk. "Lieutenant … Specialist … I have to attend another meeting, but I certainly appreciate all the information you've shared with me, and I will give your suggestion about Ms Winters some serious consideration. Now, if you will excuse me?"

Sammy and Xiùlán had stood at the same time as Chandler; as he escorted them to the door, Xiùlán said, "Thank you for seeing us, General. And … I hope you'll be able to secure the staff attending Winters; she's probably living on borrowed time, Sir."

Chandler offered his hand to each of them as he responded. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll take care of Ms Winters security right away."

As the pair left General Chandler's outer office and began walking through the short passage to the commons area, Traynor remarked, "You really think Winters has a chance in hell of living to the end of the week?"

Xiùlán looked at Sammy with an expression of resignation. "A chance in hell would be much better odds than what I think she currently has, Sà mi. I don't expect the general will even lift a finger to keep her alive." Looking at her chrono, she added, "I have to get back to the Tokyo, wo de ài [我的愛 – my love]. I'll expect you to keep in touch with me, okay?"

Samantha stopped walking; turning to face her Inamorata, she placed her hands on Xiùlán's waist and said with a sad smile, "It's been wonderful, seeing you here today. I guess you already know how lonely my bed is without you here to share it with me?"

The lieutenant smiled back at Sammy, replying, "Yours isn't any worse than mine, Sà mi. I miss us … terribly. We'll just have to survive until we can take our next leave together." She punctuated her statement with a chaste kiss on the cheek before turning to continue walking towards the shuttle docks. "We'll be together again, wo de ài; meanwhile, I'll visit as often as I'm able."

They walked on in silence until reaching the shuttle docks. Xiùlán passionately hugged and kissed Sam one last time, then boarded the UT–47 for the short flight back to the Tokyo, visible against the black curtain of space. Sam watched the shuttle's departure, than left the docks to return to work.

• ARCTURUS STATION · SECURE OFFICE OF LIEUTENANT COMMANDER GARRETT SUTTON •

Lieutenant Commander Garrett Sutton nervously waited for the comms system to finalize its connection with a deep-space station very few people knew existed. Sutton was the person in charge of the Cerberus cell that had been inserted into the population of Arcturus Station between 2159 and 2161, before construction concluded in 2162. A rather large number of Naval personnel—loyal to the ideals of the Illusive Man as much or more so than to the Alliance military—had been transported to the station from Earth in small groups, ostensibly as trained construction specialists. Their true purpose in living on the station during construction was to serve as the eyes and ears of the Illusive Man.

Sutton had been transferred in from the southeastern North America headquarters in 2159 to oversee the construction personnel, providing some insurance for Cerberus that their true purpose on board would remain unknown. As the station's construction neared completion in early 2162, about two-thirds of those people were transferred to other locations of interest to Cerberus over a 60-day period; of the eighty or so people remaining after that year, another 55 had left for other Alliance construction projects, with their replacements made up of maintenance technicians assigned to various departments. In the years since, this small group that remained had been rolled over a number of times due to transfers. With the exception of Garrett Sutton, none of the original group of people was still on board.

As the comms-system made the connection, Sutton smoothed down his jacket and stood straight, hands clasped behind his back in a display of casual non-concern, an emotion he certainly didn't feel. The imaging emitters produced a three-dimensional projection of a well-dressed man sitting in a chair, legs crossed, half–smoked cigarette between two fingers of one hand and a glass containing ice and liquid in the other, with an unknown red sun filling the space behind him. The man took a drag from the cigarette and flicked some ash into an armrest mounted receptacle as he blew a cloud of smoke towards an unseen ceiling.

Fixing his cybernetic eyes on his caller, he said, "Lieutenant Commander Sutton. It would seem that Michael Moser Lang managed to get himself into serious trouble on Arcturus Station—I understand he's in an Alliance holding cell." Taking a sip of bourbon from his glass, he added, "Additionally, five people from a six–man squad of former Marines were killed the following day, with the sixth man suffering serious facial injuries. Finally, Lieutenant Kelsey Winters is in the hospital with rather severe injuries from a beating. I understand from the various reports that all of this is due to the efforts of just one woman. Care to tell me how in hell this is possible?"

The commander was prepared for that question; unfortunately, he didn't have an answer that would please the Illusive Man. "You're correct in that it was one woman—Specialist Samantha Traynor—a recent transfer from Vancouver to our communications upgrade team. Before her transfer here, she was in a covert training program with a large number of other first and second year enlistees, and she's a master at unarmed combat, Sir. The important thing to take note of with Traynor is she doesn't suffer fools gladly, and she doesn't take prisoners, ever—anyone foolish enough to engage with her will not walk away from the encounter."

"Anyone, no matter how well trained, can be bested," came the solemn reply. "Question is, what should we do about her?" The Illusive Man finished his drink and set the glass in its holder at the end of the chair's arm. "Do we send an assassin to take her down?"

"That would be incredibly foolish, Sir," Sutton replied. "Anything happens to Traynor now, after the boatload of crap Lang stirred up? You may as well send a ship to transport the rest of the cell off the station … while they're still alive and walking around." Sutton's expression told the Illusive Man everything he needed to know. "Seeing as how Admiral Owen Fletcher recently ended his own life rather than face the probability of blowback from his colleagues, he almost certainly provided Lang with the location of Traynor's current duty assignment."

"So, Lang began this by going after Traynor on his own?"

"Exactly," Sutton nodded as he replied. "Traynor was doing an exemplary job here without a care in the world until Lang appeared; when he attacked her, she damn near tore his foot from his leg, and would have sliced his throat open if Winters hadn't intervened."

The Illusive Man stubbed his cigarette out as he thought about this dilemma. "If Lang just happens to die while in Alliance custody, there'd be suspicions raised, uncomfortable questions to answer. Since he's an independent contractor and not a Cerberus member, I'd prefer for him to be eliminated after he's free."

"How do you propose we spring him from custody, Sir? As you said, he's a damned civilian, who just happened to assault an Alliance Service member. General Chandler is not going to let that go." Sutton had actually come up with a solution. "But … it may be possible for us to arrange a transfer—get Traynor off this station, back to Vancouver. The R&D people there are always crying about how understaffed they are … two problems solved with a thumbprint on a datapad." Sutton chuckled. "It may take a couple of weeks to make it happen, but once she's gone, she can't testify against Lang. He goes free, only to be killed in a horrific accident at the docks."

"What about Winters … or that former Marine?"

"Winters can go back to her regular job—she's been compromised for so long she won't think twice about getting her job back." Sutton's smile diminished as he thought about the former Marine. "As to that former Marine, he's a free–lance merc for hire; I believe it would benefit all of us if you would transfer him into a Cerberus ground unit."

"That still leaves us with an unacceptable risk, Lieutenant Commander." The Illusive Man lit a cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. "Samantha Traynor doesn't strike me as the type of person to simply walk away from this situation. She knows there are Cerberus personnel on the station, such as Lieutenant Winters, wearing Alliance uniforms."

Sutton was still attempting to project an image of a man totally at ease. "Traynor has no friends on this station, Sir; she keeps to herself, does what's required of her and doesn't make waves. Her presence here presents no real problem." Sutton frowned as he thought of what transferring the specialist would entail. "I can start the process of getting her transferred to an R&D unit on Earth, but Alliance HR may ask for a reason, since she's been here such a short time." After a pause to collect his thoughts, he finished with, "She may have to stay on this station for some time yet, Sir. If I cannot get her transferred off, I can get her transferred to a different section. I'll let you know when I succeed."

The Illusive Man took a drag on his cigarette; blowing out a cloud of smoke as he replied, "See that you do," before touching an unseen control to close the connection, causing his image to disappear in a swirl of colored pixels.

• SPECIALIST TRAYNOR'S RESIDENCE •

It had been six days since Xiùlán had returned to the Tokyo—five since the cruiser had made the jump for the Exodus Cluster. Traynor didn't know where Xiùlán's ship would be going from there, as fleet movements beyond Exodus were never public knowledge.

She had spent the ensuing time working on the QEC upgrade project she'd been tasked with completing; at this point, Traynor projected that all the work would be finished in less than a week. She was beginning to wonder what her next assignment would entail and where it would take her when she had received a message on her desktop terminal.

She was disappointed to see Lieutenant Commander Garrett Sutton's grim–faced visage on the terminal. Without preamble, Sutton got right to the point. "Specialist Traynor. I need you in my office at 0845 tomorrow."

Sammy had barely been able to say "Yes Sir." before the connection was severed by Sutton. Wonder what that's all about, she thought. Oh well … I'll find out soon enough. Probably going to find some kind of crap job for me to do, she thought grumpily. Whatever it is, I hope it takes me as far from this station as possible, especially if it's someplace without Cerberus. She finished her dinner, cleaned up the dishes then crawled into bed.

• MAIN OFFICE OF LIEUTENANT COMMANDER GARRETT SUTTON •

Traynor arrived at Sutton's office a full ten minutes early; after checking in with the ensign behind the counter, she took a seat, there to casually cross one leg over the other and sit back in the chair to wait. At the appointed time, a door beside the reception desk opened to reveal the lieutenant commander, who pointedly looked at her boots and asked, "You keep those knives on you all the time, Specialist?"

Sammy stood immediately and rubbed her hands down her thighs, smoothing the legs of her duty slacks so the cuffs hid the sheathes strapped to her calves. "Ever since I transferred here from Vancouver, Sir." Sutton motioned her into his office as she continued, "Been armored up ever since I discovered Michael Moser Lang on this station."

Sutton waved her to a chair in front of his desk as he took his own seat behind it; picking up a datapad, he scrolled though it for several moments, then set it down and looked at Traynor. "Specialist, your work since you arrived has been exemplary … so much so, that it appears you may have worked yourself right out of a job here." If he was expecting Sammy to reply, he must have been disappointed by her silence. Saying, "Yes, well, that creates a dilemma for me. Even if I had a regular comms position open for you here on the station, your training and knowledge would be completely wasted, and I expect you'd be bored out of your mind within a month."

He picked the datapad up and looked through it again. "Also, it appears you have a personality conflict with Lieutenant Kelsey Winters …" he raised a hand to stave off the protest he could see forming on her lips. "a conflict that placed her in the hospital with some rather serious injuries."

"Did you happen to listen to the recording I made of our last meeting, Sir? She intended to put a bullet in my chest after her goon squad failed to kill me. Is self-defense not permitted on this station, Sir?"

"Recordings can be falsified, Specialist, and I expect doing so would be a simple task for someone with your talents." Sutton steepled his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. "As it is, you are lucky her injuries weren't more severe, and fortunate she has declined to press charges against you for assault."

Traynor's hackles went up at that. "Press charges!? Has everyone on this abominable shit–hole of a station taken leave of their senses … Sir?"

"Careful, Specialist. You're going to be transferred out with a statement in your jacket that you have a difficult time getting along with the other people in your unit." Sutton's face took on a grimly satisfied look, akin to the expression of a wolf just before the kill. "Don't force me to add insubordination to that statement."

Traynor had to immediately clamp down on the nearly overpowering urge to go for the man's throat, realizing that his death, no matter how satisfying personally, wouldn't be worth the loss of her entire career. "So, what's my next assignment, Sir?"

Sutton thought he had seen a hint of barely controlled anger cross Traynor's features; it was only for an instant, gone as quickly as it had appeared. Son of a bitch! came the sobering thought; his smug expression faded with the realization that, if she truly wished to do so, she could most likely kill him before he could even blink. I wouldn't be able to do a goddamned thing to stop her!

Pretending to have seen nothing out of the ordinary, he looked at the datapad and replied, "The turians are assisting Alliance R&D on a radical plan for a new class of frigate—if these new design elements prove their value during space trials, the ship will become the prototype for more of its kind across the Alliance and turian fleets; I'm going to provide you the opportunity of a lifetime, Specialist. As soon as you finish the last of the mods to this station's QEC array, you'll be granted five days of leave, at the end of which you'll report to the shipyard, where you'll be assigned to the portion of the research project the Alliance is working on. While you may not work well with others, you have demonstrated an aptitude for working well in an unsupervised position … I cannot imagine you performing any less than exceptionally on this project."

Traynor sat in stunned silence as she mulled over this new future. The fucking bastard is actually giving me exactly what I want—I'll be off this bloody station, but right next door in the shipyard, she thought. While it was true that Cerberus would soon be free to continue its operations unimpeded, she'd be working in the station's shadow, doing research on cutting edge tech for a new frigate. Does this smug bastard really believe I'll forget about the shit that's going on here? Guess I'll find out soon enough … As Sutton sat back in his chair, Traynor asked, "Will that be all, Sir?"

Sutton looked surprised, but decided he had covered everything, so stood and reached out his hand. "That's everything, Specialist. I'll cut your orders and transmit them to your new posting."

Traynor took the hand Sutton offered and applied a bit of extra pressure to her grip, knowing full well that he couldn't begin to match the strength in her forearms. The look of surprise that crossed his face was quickly followed by one of relief when she released his hand; without a word, she turned on her heel and left.

• SPECIALIST TRAYNOR'S QUARTERS •

"Yóu wo zūnjìng de zuxiān, Sà mi, [由我尊敬的祖先，薩米 – By my esteemed ancestor(s), Sami,] it's a miracle you're not sitting in a cell next to Lang!" Traynor was starting to regret her call to Xiùlán on the Tokyo. "When are you going to learn? No, forget that question, because you never will learn, will you?"

Traynor could endure a dressing down from anyone … except when it came from her Inamorata; she could feel the tears filling her eyes as she attempted to explain what had transpired in Sutton's office. "Please don't, Xiùlán. I'm sorry. The sonovabitch is going to black mark my service record!" Voice hitching in anguish, she plaintively asked, "What the hell should I have done? I'm being punished for defending myself, and now you're taking his side against me?" As she finished, her tears finally overflowed to run in rivulets down her cheeks.

Xiùlán had never been successful at convincing Sammy that losing her temper only played into the hands of her enemies, whether they were batarian mercs or Alliance LCDR's with an ax to grind, and now she had wounded her by seeming to take their side. "Sà mi! Stop it! I said nothing of the sort, so shut off the waterworks!" Xiùlán waited for several moments, feeling her heart clench in her chest as she watched Sammy weeping. "Dammit, Traynor! You need to get ahold of both your temper and your tears, or so help me I'll cut this connection!"

Traynor did something then that completely surprised Yuán … she brought her hand down on the haptic control and cut the connection herself. Unable to get her emotions under control, she ran to her bedroom, flung herself across the bed and cried herself to sleep.

Traynor wasn't ready for the 0530 wakeup chime from her bedside chrono; she flopped around a bit until she could reach the shutoff that silenced the alarm. Rolling over on her back, she realized she was still fully dressed. Damn you, Xiùlán! Why can't you ever see things from my perspective? As she sat up and dropped her legs over the side, she thought she could hear the comm terminal softly trilling from the next room.

Checking her omnitool, she saw that it also held a number of messages in the unread messages folder—checking the source for each confirmed her guess that all of them were from Xiùlán. Getting to her feet, she stripped off her SDU and armor before moving to the small bathroom to relieve herself; after walking to her living area, she spent the next half-hour exercising, being mindful of her form for each movement. By the time she had completed two reps, it was 0625—time enough to bathe and have a light breakfast before she had to go to work.

Deciding to shower and dress before breakfast, she stripped out of her underwear; after turning the water on in the shower, she eased herself under the stinging spray to stand unmoving as the warm water cascaded down her body. After several minutes, she began washing, starting with her hair, then continuing on down with her face, torso, legs and feet. Shutting the water off after a thorough rinse, she toweled her hair and body off, moved back to her bedroom and pulled on clean underwear, her underarmor skins and her SDU.

After an inspection of the message log on her comms terminal confirmed the five attempts to contact her all came from Xiùlán on the Tokyo, Traynor resolved to not reply to any more of Xiùlán's text messages or her comms calls. If she's gonna take an opposing view of every action I take, perhaps it's time to cut ties, came the thought. She loved Xiùlán with all her heart, but was tired of having her opinions and actions being questioned and ridiculed every time they spoke. If she can't love and accept me for the person I am, it might be better to just go it alone.