Those were her choices? The threat in Sheeana's eyes, her grab for a weapon, engendered a twitched ghost of a smirk, and an immediate reaction. Motoko stood, suddenly no longer all but prone on the water's floor, instead standing, using her weight as leverage for speed in motion. She could not swim without adjusting the displacers, but she could balance on the bottom like a dancer, one hand darting to seize Sheeana and drag her lower.

Lust was a sudden thing, uncoiling like a snake in her mind. She let it and the processors whirled, dumping a simulation of endorphins into her systemic drives. Threat? Oh yes she was a threat, as she stripped Sheeana's breath-mask from her face with barely restrained violence and spat out her own. The Major's kiss was thing of dominance and restraint, as soft and yeilding as a natural woman's, but with a steel under it that made no secret of the fact that Motoko could crush Sheeana's bones like sugar cubes if she so chose.

Her systems were flashing red and yellow at her by the end of it, so Motoko took a hand to the pull-tab and her floaters inflated, rushing the cyborg up to meet her reflection in the underside of the surface. She was only so waterproof, after all.