He feels his breath quicken just a little. He feels his chest tighten - but not in fear, for once. In eagerness, rather. In anticipation. It's impossible. This has to be a trap, right? Vorkosigan came in here somehow finding out his deepest, truest desire - but how? It's not something he's ever told anyone, not even the Komarrans - not Ser Galen, who would be furious if he found out that Mark's desire wasn't the freedom of Komarr. How could Vorkosigan know what bait to lay in this trap? And without bait, how could it be a trap?

"And you want me to help?" He leans forward. It's been only four months since he found out where his creche-mates had gone. He'd always suspected, but reading that confirmation, dry intel reports from hacked databases, cloying news articles from human rights groups who didn't do shit - he'd curled into a ball, shaking with rage. He's still furious. He finds himself shaking again, just a little, in his hands. "What would you want me to do?"