[Author's Note] So part of me likes AO3 better just because of the tagging system. It's easier to give people a head's up to stuff they might not want to read about. THAT BEING SAID this chapter is where things start to get... dark. I'm going to do my best to try and keep it vague, but there will be descriptions of and references to torture in the following chapters. FYI.


Chapter Six: Far From Here

Mount Kadar Research Facility, Tyrus. 24 Frost 17 A.E.

The first thing Sam became aware of was the cool, dank air surrounding her.

She was still swimming in darkness, a thick, drug-induced fog blanketing her mind. Dimly, she thought she was supposed to be scared, but she couldn't quite remember why.

Feeling slowly ebbed back into her body: a dull ache in her hip, a dry taste in her mouth, her arms pulled behind her back. Odd. She never slept like that. Groaning, she went to stretch, and found that her wrists were tied together.

A moment of blind panic—and then the memories came crashing in.

Oh, bugger me.

Sam slowly opened her eyes, just a little bit frightened of what she would see. It turned out she didn't have to be scared; she could barely see anything. The only source of light in the room was an eerie blue glow coming from some strange-looking fungus. Sam's heart sank as she realised that she recognized that plant. She'd seen it before—inside the Hollow.

How the bloody hell did I get back here?

Pushing herself into a sitting position, Sam took stock of her surroundings. The walls of her tiny cell were clearly made of rock, like the room had been carved out of the stone. Aside from the luminous plants, there was nothing else in her cell, not even a pallet for her to lie on, which explained the soreness in her hip. The only way in or out appeared to be a single metal door. She wasn't wearing her armour anymore, which was more than a little disconcerting.

Okay, don't panic. Think this through logically, like Baird would. They could have easily killed me on the beach, so the fact that I'm still alive means they want something from me.

Sam tried not to be alarmed by Clay's absence. Her abductors had jabbed a needle full of something in her neck to knock her out; there was no reason to suspect Clay had been treated any differently. Maybe he was here somewhere, in another alcove, waking up confused and disoriented as well.

No light, no windows. She had no idea what time it was, or how much time had passed since the attack on the beach. It must have been at least a few hours; she obviously wasn't on Azura any longer, and whatever she'd been dosed with had kept her unconscious for transport back to the mainland. If Baird hadn't noticed she was gone yet, he soon would.

That thought comforted her—that Baird would be out looking for her.

Right, no time to get sentimental. Get up, Byrne, and see if you can see anything useful.

With her hands bound behind her back, getting to her feet was no easy task. Still slightly groggy from the lingering effects of the drug, Sam tipped sideways and crashed into the wall. She managed to jerk her head back, and her shoulder took the brunt of the impact; the rough rock wall scraped angry red lines along her exposed skin.

"Buggering fuck," Sam swore, and then grimaced at how scratchy her own voice felt in her throat.

Still, she was standing now, so mission accomplished. Although now that she was on her feet, she didn't know what she was expecting to find. It didn't take her more than twenty steps to walk the circumference of the room. No secret escape tunnel to be discovered, evidently.

Brilliant. Now what?

A good kick couldn't hurt, so that's what she did. Unfortunately, without her sturdy Gear boots, her foot just kind of bounced off the metal door.

Right, let's not do that again or I'll break my bloody ankle.

No other way in or out, unless she felt like trying to scrape a tunnel into the rocks. Even if her hands weren't cuffed behind her back, that didn't seem likely. There was nothing else to do but sit and wait for whoever had taken her to show up and do whatever they intended to do. Gingerly, Sam sat back down on the floor and crossed her legs. She couldn't do anything—or even think about doing anything—until she had more information, and she wasn't going to learn anything else about this room.

Let's go over what I know: I've been abducted, not killed, so I'm valuable to these people… whoever they are. I'm not on Azura—back on the mainland, somewhere with access to a non-flooded part of the Hollow. A mountain range in Tyrus, maybe? Baird and the others will be looking for me and Carmine. Maybe I can figure out a way to contact them somehow. But I need to get out of this cell to do that.

She didn't have to wait long.

Footsteps were approaching, and by the sound of it there was more than one person. Sam straightened her posture and made her face go blank; whoever was coming wouldn't see any trace of fear in her expression. If she could throw them off, maybe she could do… something. She took a deep breath as the footsteps stopped just outside her door. Whatever came inside, she wouldn't react.

The door opened and two people stepped inside—a man and a woman, both wearing long white lab coats. Scientists? Sam thought, keeping her face straight. Armed goons I was expecting, not… boffins.

"Miss Byrne." The woman smiled pleasantly at Sam, like she was a receptionist and this was a waiting room. "I'm pleased to see you're awake this time."

"So you know my name." Sam would have folded her arms across her chest if she could. "Do I get to know yours?"

"Oh, of course. My name is Lana Platt, and my colleague here is Korso Rourke."

The man, Rourke, didn't look very much like a scientist; he was scruffy and muscular, almost too big for the lab coat. He stepped towards Sam, his face expressionless, but there was something in his eyes that made her skin crawl.

"Help Miss Byrne stand up, would you, Korso?" Platt said. Her voice was high and girlish.

"It's Corporal Byrne, thank you very much," Sam grumbled as Rourke hauled her to her feet.

They led Sam out of her cell and down a corridor, lit only by a series of tiny electric lights. She tried to distract herself from the growing fear in her gut by taking in as much information as she could. Unfortunately, being outside her prison didn't provide her with anything useful. She was definitely underground, and this structure was slightly more complicated than she had initially thought; there were various hallways snaking off from the one she was being led through. But nowhere did she see a light that might be the surface, or even a tunnel that looked like it might lead to an exit. These scientists would know the network of tunnels better than she did. Even if she could give them the slip, they would probably catch up to her before she got her bearings.

Eventually they stopped at another metal door. Platt punched in a code to open it while Rourke gripped Sam's shoulder. Sam hoped they were picking up Clay; it would be easier for her to keep up her calm façade with someone else around. However, when Platt opened the door and Rourke bodily shoved Sam inside, she saw that the room was empty except for a table and chair, and a camera pointing at the furniture. A pair of handcuffs was attached to both of the chair's legs, and there was a manila envelope resting on the table.

Fantastic.

"Where's Carmine?" Sam asked, while Rourke handcuffed her to the chair.

"Your friend on the beach?" Platt didn't sound at all interested. "Where we left him, I expect. I hope the tide didn't come in too fast."

Sam tried to ignore the way her stomach twisted into a knot. So she was alone here. She supposed she should be grateful that Clay wasn't in danger, but a selfish part of her wished that he had been taken too. Then she wouldn't have to suffer through whatever these people had planned by herself.

Still, she steeled herself and took what she hoped was a subtle, steadying breath through her nose. "So why exactly am I here?"

"Your relationship to Sergeant Baird, of course," Platt said, picking up the envelope from the table.

"Baird?" Sam tried to look confused; maybe she could bluff her way out of this. "I barely know him."

Platt chuckled. "Would you like to look at these, then?"

From the envelope, Platt pulled out a stack of glossy papers and laid them out on the table in front of Sam. They were photographs, taken—Sam's stomach dropped. Pictures from Anvegad, of her and Baird, holding hands, smiling at one another, all from various seasons. The last one looked like a still from the security camera feed at Azura. It was from last night; Sam was holding her fingers up to Baird's lips as he tried to lean in for one more kiss.

"So," Platt said, "as much as you want us to believe that the sergeant was just another notch in your bedpost, we know differently."

Great, I bollocksed that up. Sam kept her face neutral. "You've made your point. So what does Baird have to do with anything?"

Instead of answering, Platt walked over to the camera and switched it on. "Would you kindly state your name and the date for the record, Miss Byrne?"

"How am I supposed to know what bloody day it is?"

Platt smiled tightly. "It's the day after your patrol, if that helps."

"Loads, thanks." Sam flashed her own sardonic smile. "Corporal Samantha Byrne, and it's Frost twenty-fourth."

"Thank you. And now, would you please give us the keyword for Dr. Austen's research?"

Keyword? What is she on about? Sam opened her mouth to say she didn't know anything about a keyword, but then snapped it shut abruptly. Hang on. Baird had theorized that Austen's notes were written in some kind of code, and now she knew that the code required a keyword to decipher it. These people had abducted her because they thought she would be useful to them—they thought that Baird had cracked the code, and that he'd told her what the keyword was.

I'm alive because they think I can help them. If they find out that I don't know anything, there's no point in keeping me around.

Sam made a snap decision in that moment. She had absolutely no idea what the keyword was, but she had a better chance of staying alive long enough for Baird to find her if these scientists thought that she did know and was just refusing to tell them.

She snorted scathingly. "Do you really expect me to tell you?"

"Perhaps not right away," Platt said sweetly. "But after some… persuasion, I think you'll be willing to talk. Korso, if you would."

Rourke stepped forward, his stride eager and aggressive. Sam swallowed her fear and glared up at him.

I will not flinch. I will not scream. I will be strong.

She knew it was coming, but the blow still took her by surprise. With lightning speed, Rourke backhanded her across the mouth. Her teeth smashed together, inadvertently biting down on her tongue as stars exploded in her eyes. While the stinging on her cheek hurt like hell, it was nothing she hadn't experienced before.

"Is that the best you can do?" Sam asked, sneering up at them.

"Oh no, my dear," Platt said. "This is just a warm-up."

Sam's defiant smirk flickered slightly. Me and my big mouth.