Chapter 4 – Samara

Apologies for the delay. The next chapter will be a bit quicker. Warning, dark themes in this chapter - possible trigger content, some sexual content. Rated M. Thanks to Midsummer and Ryftling as always. Do R&R if you have the chance.

Shepard lay on her belly, squinting across the strange, grey dunes to the squat buildings, trying to get a measure of how many patrols there were. Samara must be inside one of these structures. She smiled grimly. Now this I can handle. No hidden monsters, no burning men and no damn airlocks. Straightforward. Charge in, guns blazing, save the day. This place unnerved her though and not just the thought of it being someone else's mental construct. The air was too still, the sky heavy and unchanging. A dying sun flickered weakly at the lip of the horizon. Dust floated through the air and she could taste ashes in her mouth, everything around her long dead and forgotten. Samara's 1000 years old. Most of what she knew will be decayed and gone.

She crept forward warily using the little available cover and the breaks in patrol patterns to ease herself closer. With some dismay she realised the efficiently patrolling figures were Asari commandos. Crap. This is going to be tough.

There were four buildings in all, equally as non-descript as the other and offering no clues as to which one Samara was being held in. If she was even here at all. Going to have to do this the hard way, sweep each one and hope I get lucky. She wished briefly her team was with her and then quashed the thought almost immediately as an unbidden memory of crouching next to Thane whilst waiting for a break in enemy fire rose in her mind. She remembered the musky sweet smell of him and the feel of his breath on her cheek and shivered slightly. Irritated at her lapse of concentration she shook her head to clear it. Really not the time.

She decided to head for the furthermost building, skirting in a wide circle and flattening herself against the wall, listening for footsteps. As the patrol rounded the corner she cloaked quickly, dodged behind her and tightened her elbow around the Asari's neck before she had time to cry out. Gritting her teeth she pulled and twisted, laying the limp body down carefully and stilling briefly, head cocked. No running feet. Maybe have a few minutes before they notice one of their guards has disappeared. She peered round the corner of the building cautiously. Clear. Darting forward, she slapped the door release and edged inside, finding herself in a small room, dark and musty smelling. A lone window was set into the opposite wall and she could dimly see the outline of an adjacent door. Muffled voices drifted towards her as she edged closer to the window, keeping low.

Two Asari stood with their backs to her, listening to a white coated third. She recognised Samara. The younger Asari next to her, though…Shepard frowned. Is that Morinth? She saw Samara's shoulders stiffen at the doctor's words, saw her place a hand on Morinth's arm and was shrugged off impatiently. She strained to hear their conversation but could only pick up snatches.

"...no civilised society...abomination..."

"...recommendations, Doctor..."

"Exile, or..."

Shepard saw Morinth turn away from the both of them to stand looking contemplatively towards the window where she hovered, listening. Her eyes darkened and a sly smile flickered over her face as she bit the tip of a finger. Shepard felt the roll of power through the walls even before she saw the biotic flash which threw her backwards across the room. Staggering to her feet she peered through the window again to see Samara pick herself up groggily from the floor, stopping briefly to check the unconscious doctor before sprinting off in pursuit.

Morinth had disappeared.

This is the memory of her escape, then. After they got the news of her...condition. Samara became a Justicar, gave up everything to track Morinth down and stop her killing.

She followed, diving and rolling through the door, weapon ready. What the hell?

She stood in a small clearing. The air was heavy and humid, moisture dripped steadily from the overhanging trees. Everything was eerily silent, no birds sang, no tiny movements stirred the undergrowth. Little pinches of sky could be seen through the canopy overhead. Her nostrils flared as she caught a scent, rich and metallic. Blood. Lots of it. The clearing narrowed, feeding into a small, well trodden path which wound through the gloom. Shepard followed it, flexing uncomfortably under her armour as sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. There was a whisper of movement ahead of her. The trees suddenly parted to reveal Samara standing in profile. Bodies littered the scorched ground around her. Men, women and children lay blackened and burned in various unnatural poses at her feet. There was blood on her clothes, splashed across her face. She was staring at her crimson smeared fingers.

"Samara?"

She seemed not to hear her. "So many…" she said softly. "She would sacrifice so many to save herself. Innocents under her thrall, she made them worship her." She straightened, chin lifted and biotics flaring. "No longer is she my daughter. She is an abomination. There will be no mercy, by the Goddess."

Her head whipped around suddenly to fix on Shepard, eyes blazing.

"Samara, you- "

"Get away!"

Shepard felt herself picked up, whirled and thrown, landing with bone crushing force on her back. Winded, she lay still for several seconds struggling to draw air back into her lungs, feeling abused ribs creak. Could have been worse she thought ruefully. She could have killed me. Wincing, she rolled and stood, noting with resignation that Samara had vanished. Bloody footprints led a trail back into the forest.

Eventually she came upon a disused hut, moss climbing the walls, rotting wooden door partially open. Shepard squinted into the darkness from the cover of the trees, wiping a thin film of sweat from her face. The bloodstained prints had disappeared some time ago but she had followed crushed plants and disturbed earth in the hope that she was still on the Justicar's trail and not just wandering aimlessly. Damn, should've asked. EDI said my mind will reject the notion that all this is real even though I canget hurt here. But can I get stuck here? Might've had second thoughts otherwise. Shit.

She heard the faint creak of a floorboard from within the hut but saw no movement. Taking a deep breath she charged and skidded, bringing her gun up swiftly. "Samara, stand dow- "

Dimly she heard the door slam behind her before she was blinded by a sudden light. The gun was knocked from her hands and she felt the press of bodies around her, a pulse beat insistently in her head and she realised it was music. Really loud music. She felt herself jostled from several directions at once; hands ran lightly over her shoulders and down her flanks. Not again. Where the hell did my armour go? She realised she was wearing the ridiculously tight leather dress Kasumi had gifted her with on the graybox mission. Disorientated, she forced herself through the gyrating crowd. A drink was placed in her hand and a warm pressure in the small of her back guided her to a nearby alcove. Her limbs felt heavy and warm and she allowed herself to be led, eyeing the drink suspiciously.

"What the hell. If I'm in someone else's fantasy I might as well enjoy some of it." She downed the drink and turned to find lips suddenly pressing against hers. She caught a flash of pale eyes from the dark of the dance floor before the constantly moving figures obscured it. Arms came around her stroking up her ribs gently, drifting up her bare inner arms and across her shoulders. Feels good. She pushed back slightly and smiled up into familiar Drell features.

"What's a nice assassin like you doing in a place like this?"

Thane said nothing, merely smiled, and, turning sharply, drew her further into the shadows, trapping her against the wall with his body His lips were insistent on her neck. Tendrils of heat crawled up her spine as his fingers danced down the sides of her breasts and his mouth caught hers again. She felt him press his hips against hers, smelt his heady scent of musk and leather.

Wait.

He kissed her more deeply, hands tightening on her shoulders. Eyes watched from the shadows and turned away, the lights flashed faster, whirling patterns on the walls and floor making her head spin. She saw a door open and close on the far side of the club.

That was Samara. Remember the mission, goddammit! You got distracted and let your groin do the thinking.

She shoved Thane away suddenly, dodging his grab for her wrist and dove into the throng of people. Immediately she was surrounded, hands running over her, people grinding themselves against her. Her body was on fire. Gasping, she started to shove herself through, twisting away from insistent fingers, mouths. Looking back briefly she saw the mass of people behind her parting, Thane casually moving through them towards her and the urge to throw him down right there on the dance-floor even with an audience was almost overwhelming. A hand palmed her breast, another reached down to stroke her gently and she groaned.

"No..."

With an almighty effort she tore her gaze away and fought through the remaining dancers, throwing herself through the doorway with a cry.

She stood panting and dishevelled in a small, brightly lit room. Large windows filtered light onto a glass mobile hanging from the high ceiling and colours danced along the walls. She could hear music, very faintly, from elsewhere in the complex and a sweet, familiar smell drifted around her.

"Shepard."

Samara sat cross-legged in a pool of sunlight, her back to her, looking out at the rolling hills and the gently moving trees visible through the window.

"Samara. Don't up and leave again before I get a chance to explain. None of this is real, you're trapped in some fantasy world an AI has created and I'm here to break you out." She moved towards her warily.

"I know, Commander."

Shepard's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "You- what? You knew? I went through all of that to get to you whilst you ran away from me to sit here on your ass and admire the view? Why?" Shepard clenched her fists, suddenly furious. "Was all of...that...with...with...your doing?"

She rounded on her and stopped dead. Samara held a tiny infant in her arms, head bowed. It cooed softly, eyes wide, and smiled guilelessly. A baby. Her baby. Morinth. All the anger drained out of her suddenly leaving her tired and limp. "Just tell me why, Samara."

"I killed my daughter, Shepard." Samara said softly. "She was a murderer, killed hundreds with no regret, no mercy and she enjoyed doing it. I did what was necessary. But these things you do not forget." She touched her chest briefly. "These memories are the ones that remain, even after all the pain and bloodshed, the endless pursuit." She raised her face to Shepard's and she flinched to see the depth of the despair in those ageless eyes.

"You are not a mother, Shepard. The sense memories associated are stronger than that of any lover's attentions." Samara closed her eyes. "I killed her, but...I remember how she smelt, the weight of her. Her arms around my neck, her breath on my cheek." Tears welled and spilled down her face. "Her smile. The warmth of her body."

Shepard sat carefully. "I don't understand, Samara. Why would you want to stay in a place like this? Filled with these memories?"

"Those you have lost, Shepard. What would you give for another precious hour with them? Another minute, another second?"

"I..." She sat silently as the Asari cradled her daughter. "We can't stay here. You'll die."

"Some would say I am dead already, that I have lived too long." She opened her eyes, pale orbs moving around the room before fixing on her daughter once more. "I am bound to you, Commander. Through all this I remember my oath...I know what I have to do. Just...a little longer." She kissed her baby gently.

Shepard looked away. The soft crunch when it came made her jaw clench and her eyes sting. She saw Samara lie the tiny, limp body on the floor.

The pain of the static behind her eyes was almost welcome.

Her ribs hurt and under the armour she was sticky and uncomfortable. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Samara rise to her feet gracefully and turn towards the door.

"Wait. Samara...are you...okay?"

The Asari paused. "I am fine, Shepard. I thank you for your intervention. We will not speak of these things again. Please. I must meditate." The elevator door hissed shut behind her.

Shepard bit the inside of her cheek, tasting blood. "I'm going to hit the showers, EDI."

"Understood, Commander."

She sat on the floor of her shower trying to rid her mind of the Justicar's eyes on her, the feel of hands on her body until her fingers pruned and the skin on her back stung. Get up. Her aching body refused to move, knees pulled tight to her chest. Get up. People's lives depend on you.

"When do they not...?" Painfully she pulled herself upright and dressed quickly.

"What's up next, EDI?"

"Operative Lawson is showing very high levels of adrenaline, Shepard. I would make her your next priority."

"I shudder to think what Little Miss Perfect has hiding in her closet. Hope it's nothing too distracting. Like, for example, a mass orgy." Her face flamed as she remembered almost succumbing to sensation and want in the darkened club. She should feel dirty and violated but her belly swooped treacherously. Her gaze strayed to Thane's prone body.

"I do not understand, Commander."

"And I really don't want to elaborate. Logging me in, EDI." She shoved the cable into the back of her neck with a grimace.

She was sitting on a low wall outside a large mansion. Silk whispered around her and she picked up the folds of the white nightdress, rubbing the smooth material between her fingertips. No guns. Of course. She looked up to see a white face peer out briefly from one of the upstairs windows before the curtains were drawn quickly. She hopped off and winced at a sudden sting in her foot. Shards of glass surrounded her, covering the small patio between her and the house. A cold wind blew from inside and she saw an indistinct figure turn to climb the stairs with slow, heavy footsteps.

This is gonna hurt.

TBC