Cortin slept soundly, and when she woke early it was in anticipation of assisting at Mike's First Mass and then celebrating her own. She found herself looking forward to both of them more than she could remember having done since her First Communion, after the way the previous day's had made her feel. Her anticipation suffered a setback, though, when she found a note from Mike in her message box; he'd been asked to say his First Mass for some newly-arrived Strike Force selectees, and he said she would have as well if she hadn't still been on hospital status. She didn't see how saying Mass could be more strenuous than conducting interrogations--though maybe Egan didn't know she'd done any--but she couldn't object. For Odeon's First Mass: Odeon's First Mass She opened the field Mass kit she'd been issued and laid it out on the bureau, kissed the stole and put it around her neck, then blessed herself and began her First Mass. She was surprised at how easily she was able to speak the Latin; even though she'd heard it almost every Sunday since she was old enough to remember, she'd never seriously tried to use it. She'd heard the Terrans had experimented with using whatever the local language happened to be, but that seemed almost sacrilegious; she couldn't imagine Mass without the solemnity and beauty of Latin. As she continued, offering her prayers and her pain to the figure on the crucifix, the ceremony seemed to take on a life of its own, filling her with a sense of rightness and peace. At some point Illyanov's voice joined hers, taking over the responses; she accepted it without surprise. Nor was she surprised, when the time came, to find several men in Enforcement gray kneeling for Communion. It wasn't until she finished the service that she realized they were all Inquisitors, or wondered how they came to be in a room she was positive she'd locked the night before. When she asked, Illyanov chuckled and held up a key. "I did not think it fitting that you have to celebrate your First Mass alone, so I spoke with Colonel Bradford and received his permission to act as your server, as well as--since I convinced him it would be impossible to keep secret the fact of Special Operations priests, especially from Inquisitors when one of those priests is also one of us, for more than a few days--to invite several of our colleagues." He introduced them, then said, "It is our pleasure to invite you to breakfast at the Eagle's Nest. That is one of the few commercial establishments where Inquisitors in uniform are welcome--probably because the proprietor was one of us before his retirement--and has much better food than the dining hall. Will you join us?"