The Lucifer Effect
Author's Note: Merry Almost Christmas! This chapter's ending probably won't elicit a merry response for numerous reasons :P Hope everybody's prepared and survives the holiday madness though. Wishing you all lots of love—and of course, lots of gifts! Don't forget to give loved ones extra 💓💋 since they're gifts too :) If I don't trek out another chapter in time, then see you in 2019 and HAPPY NEW YEARS! Let's make the most of this year while we still can!

💓 you all! Hope you enjoy, cheers!


Ethically, Lexi can't keep Sa'mosa under any longer. Her shoulder has healed; the strength uncontested, based on how she handled Suvi. Lexi passes a concerned glance at Remy. She too will be at risk if the asari exile attempts to wake her; are there any ways to reason with Sa'mosa, if Suvi wasn't able to?

Lexi pings the Pathfinder's omni-tool and sends a message. [What are your orders on the asari exile? Will we be returning her to Kadara?]

As she waits for a response, she rises from her terminal and checks Sa'mosa's vitals. Her biotics are nothing to trifle with if she was able to employ them even while heavily medicated; Peebee and Cora will have to be here for damage control. Perhaps they can unlock the plinth and move Sa'mosa to a different room, minimize the risk to Remy? Her omni-tool buzzes and she checks her message, groaning at the inevitable headache that's to come.

{Let me think about it. We're heading back to the Nexus first to pick up Liam. We'll be returning to Kadara soon anyways, so I'll have a decision by then.}

Liam. Why Liam? Why add to the stress and overcrowd this damn med-bay with that reckless man's antics and his 'tactical' risks? What happened to a full month of recovery? And that's the minimum; he should have a couple weeks left. Either the physiotherapists have magical abilities to speed up the healing process, or Liam's persistent nagging has exhausted them to clearing him and returning him to her care much earlier than he should be.

Lexi makes a big bold note on his chart; the prescription entered and finalized is one she fully intends to ensure he will follow to the letter, no excuses.

BED REST.

Bed rest means med-bay though, since the armory he lives in doesn't have such amenities. She nearly—shamefully—scrambles to amend the chart.

COUCH REST.

If it's not a thing, it is one now.

Doors slide open behind her. She doesn't need to look to know who it is, and smirks. "Taking your new appointment in stride, Suvi?"

A sharp breath. "Am I that obvious now?"

"Well, you are the only one who visits here. Apart from the others when they need patching up." Lexi signs off on her chart and turns in her chair, picking up a datapad. "I do have good news for you; Ms. Kedar's latest scans."

It's enough to spark hope in her colleague's eyes.

"However, due to patient confidentiality..."

And destroy it in the same second.

"Oh, come on, Lexi!" Suvi groans exasperatedly, marching over, hand thrust out and bouncing expectantly for the datapad. Her stern look—a horrible attempt to look intimidating—falters, replaced by pleading eyes. "Please?"

"Just teasing you," Lexi chuckles, handing the datapad over. "But her charts are confidential, and I'm only granting access because of your expertise in cybernetics."

"There's something wrong with her legs?"

"No."

A brief pause. Lexi smirks when Suvi looks at her, confused. Then it dawns. "Oh. Ah. Yes. Well, then, I look forward to sharing what I know and working with you." Suvi doesn't even look up when she lies through her teeth, though her eyes would be a dead giveaway even to the untrained eye. She eagerly takes her seat beside Remy as she roves over the contents on the datapad. "This red area here... That's not bleeding, is it?"

"Brain activity." Lexi walks over and points at the visual of Remy's brain, pointing at various other red spots amidst the green. "These scans were taken as I was testing her to see if she consistently reacted to various stimuli, and she does. Which doesn't come as a surprise since she was still somewhat self-sufficient and conscious prior to being put under, but"—she draws a circle around the largest area of activity—"see where all this activity is?"

"...The left hemisphere." Suvi looks up, puzzled. "Didn't you say that's in charge of speech? Does that mean she's been talking?"

"Not out loud, but I suspect she is in her dreams."

"So the good news is...?"

Lexi chuckles, redirecting attention to the scans. She swipes to the next set showcasing how far along the healing process is. "Because the surgery required the areas in charge of motor speech to be removed, the brain was left with no neural connectivity. Her dreams are helping her pave new pathways. She's healing and rehabilitating." Lexi taps the screen. "What's still unclear is why. Her body should be focused on healing, so I suspect an external output is assisting her with rehabilitation. Have you been speaking to her?"

Suvi shakes her head, looking at Remy, lost in thought. "I've been playing music, borrowed from the Pathfinder and some of my own. Recordings of thunder, too."

Thunder's loud and chaotic. Not an ideal choice to lull the mind and facilitate efficient mending.

"Remy loves storms."

Or perhaps is ideal, if one actually finds that soothing.

Suvi's head snaps up to Lexi. "So if I do start talking to her, maybe through the headphones or connect to the audio implants... Would that help?"

"She won't be talking fluidly upon waking, but it will certainly help speed up the process and make the transition smoother when we resume our speech therapy." Lexi taps the datapad. "And with the rate her brain's been healing at, I suspect another week before I can ween her off the medication and allow her to regain consciousness naturally."

"One more week?" Disappointment is etched in every single one of Suvi's features. Lexi simply smiles, and the poor woman sighs as she turns to Remy and grabs hold of the engineer's hand. "It's so close, but so far away..."

"Just be patient. Keep doing everything you're doing to support her, because it's working." Lexi takes the datapad away and heads back to her desk, searching for what she could use to help Suvi talk to Remy privately. There's nothing, however, but hopefully she'll get ideas when she mulls on it a little longer. "I don't have any devices that will allow you to speak to her privately, but I can step out and go on break early, if that's okay with you?"

"Of course!" Suvi beams a bright smile as she works on setting up her laptop on Remy's stomach. "Is there anything I should talk about specifically that may be beneficial? Sounding out syllables, or something?"

"To be frank, that's where my knowledge on neuro-rehabilitation ends. I'm still reading up on as much material as I can. I'll be convening with Dr. Carlyle soon to see if he has any additional advice on what else I can try, or improve on." Lexi gathers her datapads and a couple books, heading for the med-bay's exit. "All I can suggest now is: do what feels natural. It's highly likely that not all parts are being filtered into her dreams." She shoots a wry smirk over her shoulder. "And it may confuse her if the dream-you starts going 'eee-ooo'. Keep an eye on the monitors. There's evidence that your presence alone is enough to calm her; hearing your voice will surely help."

"Understood. And thanks for updating me—thanks for everything, really. Time and time again, you've gone out of your way to provide her the best treatment."

Lexi stops at the door, mulling on it for a moment. While she does feel good... "Just doing my job."

"Here we go again. Not everyone has your definition of 'just doing my job', Lexi," Suvi chuckles wryly.

With a humble shrug, Lexi leaves before what she really wants to say ends up coming out. She still has her reservations about the exiles; but—as a doctor—she's obligated to treat them, as per the oath she'd sworn to uphold when she'd been inducted and registered as a physician.

Hopefully she stays as a physician.

Not an accomplice.

-—-—-—-—-—-

Autumn leaves. They're fiery red, like her hair. Rain scarcely breaches through the thick forest, but it's enough to dampen the trail they're hiking on.

Remy doesn't recognize this forest.

"Are we even in Indonesia?" she mutters, looking around when she hears a faint... Drum beat? None of this makes sense. She looks ahead to the woman who appears to show no signs of slowing down, backpacking and clearly enjoying herself with how she looks around, admiring the trees, picking up leaves, studying the life surrounding them. A scientist through and through; Remy can relate to the innate curiosity, a desire to understand everything.

Crisp air rushes with the evening breeze as a flute plays somewhere. Probably other hikers. Remy jogs to catch up with Suvi, watching the woman watching nature, marveling beneath the shelter of trees. No words are coming to mind. She stays silent and closes her eyes, listening to the sounds of the woodland denizens.

A hand slips around hers and she smiles.

"Known as Big Tree Country," Suvi murmurs, "Perthshire has many dramatic autumn colours at this time of year. The Hermitage—a National Trust for Scotland's protected site—houses giant Douglas firs, which are among the tallest trees in the UK. Visitors can walk to the Black Linn Falls and stroll along the banks of the River Braan, where the sharp-eyed can spot salmon leaping up the falls to spawning grounds further up the river."

Remy bites her tongue before she inadvertently loses their ongoing war. She has the answer of where they are, at least. Opening her eyes, she looks down at the hand no longer wrapped around her own, and Suvi is up ahead again. It's too easy to lose track of time in this bloody forest. Remy wants to be here for every second of it.

Camera in hand, she runs to catch up again, eyes peeled for said salmon as they near the falls. Someone's playing violin in the distance.

"The Hermitage has always been my personal favorite, only because my father used to take me out on expeditions here." Suvi holds out her hand for Remy to slow down, pointing at a dam. Remy squints. She zooms in with her camera instead, grinning when she catches beavers. "Dollar Glen comes to a close second for me. Perfect for a countryside walk with waterfalls and wildlife all around. It's interesting to see the remains of Castle Campbell—the 15th century fortress—too. It's a marvel how far engineering has come."

Engineering. Remy's ears perk at that and a proud grin sweeps her face. "That's the best part of my job—I get to make history and pave the path to the future at the same time. It just doesn't get any cooler than that."

Chuckles hum. Suvi continues down the trail, hiking her backpack higher on her shoulders. "Branklyn Garden is the place for all botanists around the globe; a pilgrimage of sorts for plant lovers."

Like Suvi. No wonder she has that delicate touch of a flowery scent all the time. Not in the face and strong enough to choke, thank god. Some perfumes need to die.

"There's always something to see in any season. Magnolias and purple Japanese maples in the summer, alpine flowers and Himalayan blue poppies in the spring. My favorite's autumn—the katsura tree produces this delicious burnt sugar scent when it's leaves turn."

Good lord, Remy's lost their war before she's even had a fighting chance to prove doing is better than seeing. Even she's being swayed here. She falls in step beside Suvi, enjoying the walk and talk—well, listening, more like. Remy can listen to that voice on repeat forever. If Suvi wanted to, she could make anything sound good.

Honestly, the Initiative would make a killing if they got Suvi to market some products and voice some advertisements. Easy bank.

"Your accent's cooler than mine," Remy mumbles under her breath; for some reason, something in there feels off. Her jaw is stiff. She tries to wriggle it to loosen it up, trying to say something else, trying and failing over and over again. She blinks, and she's alone. The music is gone. Thunder rolls through. In another blink, she's out in the open—it's not thunder, but the waterfall.

Looking around for her guide, she spots Suvi climbing up a steep trail. "Wait for me!" Her voice is drowned by the deafening waterfall. She musters the courage to look over the edge to see if she'll get a chance at catching the salmon in action; no such luck.

But she sees—

"...Sophie?"

Earth isn't beneath her feet anymore. The waterfalls are closing in. She realizes too late that she's falling, falling into water that suddenly turns to blood.

Darkness swallows her before she has a chance to scream.

"Let the sea set us free."

-—-—-—-—-—-

Nexus. Sara is dreading picking up Liam, honestly, but she intends to keep her promise. She's not looking forward to how much more stress Lexi will be under, caring for another person. It's sad that there just isn't any doubt whatsoever that Liam will find his way to the med-bay soon enough. Still, his skills are an asset.

Maybe she'll somehow convince him to stay on the ship instead of going boots on the ground somewhere. No chance. But. Miracles have been known to happen.

"SAM, where's that—what did Professor Herik want us to pick up?"

"A young pyjak. It is in a cage and located in the Common Area to the right of the tram station, near the ordnance merchant."

"Alright, can you send a note to Kesh and ask if she's got any spare hands to help us load the space monkey onto the Tempest?"

"Pyjak, Pathfinder, and yes. On an unrelated note: Liam is requesting that you 'hurry up'."

"He's eager, I can relate."

"And still healing."

She can relate to that too; a secret between her and SAM. An open secret to Lexi.

"What? So how did he get clearance?"

"I do not know. I suspect it may be due to the high volume of colonists that will need to be tended to in order to repair Ark Leusinia."

"Makes sense, but my gut tells me he probably drove them crazy," she smirks, "like Lexi." As she enters the tram and inputs her destination, she folds her hands behind her hand. "Well, we'll see why soon enough. On another unrelated note—" there's literally millions of them. "—what do you think we should do with the asari exile, SAM?"

There's a pause. SAM doesn't answer right away, and she looks up at the ceiling, waiting. "SAM?"

"My apologies, Pathfinder. I did not expect to be asked."

She didn't expect an AI to have expectations, either. She keeps her own observations about the AI's growth—and her proud mama grin—to herself.

"We're partners." Kinda~ hard not to be with an extra voice in her head. "I value your input just like any member on the team. So? What's your take?"

"I suggest Ms. T'Lova be kept under until Ms. Kedar is awake."

Sara clicks her tongue off the roof of her mouth, shaking her head. "Lexi won't like that."

"No she will not. It is unethical. However, it will prevent another situation like what happened with Dr. Anwar, as Ms. T'Lova attacked in order to free Ms. Kedar."

"Hm... And we can brief Remy on it—see if she's willing to be the first face the exile sees, prove they're okay."

"Precisely, Pathfinder."

"A sound decision. Good work, SAM. Could you let Lexi know for me, please?" The tram doors open. She sucks in a deep breath and steels herself before she steps out. "And inform her that if she has any concerns, I'd be happy to explain and accept any consequences that come from this."

No doubt Lexi will be stuck in a moral quandary over this. She has enough sitting—shitting—on her mind.

Anxious steps hasten the closer she gets to the med-bay. She isn't sure if she'll want to scold or hug the man, reminded of how much she misses just sharing a beer and actually get to relax—no chill pills necessary. As soon as the doors open, Sara's greeted with an excited: "Pathfinder, finally! Took you long enough."

Liam hobbles over on crutches, and she gives him a pointed look as she crosses her arms. "I was told you were fit for duty. You're fit to drive Lexi crazy, if anything."

"Aw~ I miss you too."

Sara scoffs and turns away to hide her smirk, waving exasperatedly. "C'mon Cap'n Klutz. Hustle."

Crutches click and clack as Liam rushes to keep up with her as they head back to the tram. "So what's new? Get rid of the exiles yet?"

"Nah, Remy's a permanent patient." She shoots a teasing look over her shoulder. "Like someone else I know."

"Get off," he laughs, "Lexi's gonna give me a hard 'nough time."

"We picked up another one too, friend of Remy's." When they reach the stairs, she frowns, deciding to offer her arm. "Here; Pathfinder and glorified railing, at your service."

"Heh, thanks." Liam holds both crutches under one arm and grabs hold of hers, hopping up one at a time. "Don't let me fall and bust my head open."

"I wouldn't dare. I already don't hear the end of it from Lexi for myself."

They board the tram as she fills him in on everything that's happened after he was dropped off. The entire time, something nags her at the back of her mind.

Get rid of the exiles.

-—-—-—-—-—-

"Sorry I'm late," Sara grumbles in front of the vidcon, making no move to hide her contempt for Director Tann. "My alarm didn't go off because I didn't set it because I don't want to be here."

"Something we share in common, Pathfinder. I will make this quick. I have intel suggesting you have another exile on board."

Who snitched this time? Director Addison doesn't seem like she'd rush to Tann with this, unless she enjoys him breathing down her neck.

"I've taken appropriate security measures and she is contained. You can rest assured she does not pose a risk to my crew." Sara shrugs without a single fuck to give. She's spent all of them on politics both on and off the ship. "But I know that isn't your concern. As long as whoever's leaking all this information to you doesn't go to HNS or Keri, then nobody will know. No political shitstorm—everybody's happy. Are we done? I have a million things to do. Literally."

Tann stares. It's hard to tell if he's glaring through the hologram, like her, but hopefully her unfiltered sass conveys—and emphasizes—her displeasure crystal clear.

"Another thing we share in common," Tann retorts flippantly, and she rolls her eyes. "Ensure this risk remains contained. We cannot be seen cooperating with the traitors. Otherwise, rumors will circulate and there will be widespread panic, and—"

"With all due respect, Director, I'll tell you the same thing I told Addison. As much as you'd like to pretend otherwise, the exiles are a part of the Initiative. I fully intend to repair the damage you've done and convince them we're on the same team—one without centuries-old prejudices that should've been fucking left behind." Her voice cracks with barely restrained venom. She only just rolled out of bed, she's in no mood to run in circles and play nice, mincing words. "My ship, my rules."

"Let me remind you that I am the Director of the entire Initiative and my authority supersedes yours, Pathfinder. There will be consequences if you disobey."

"Let me remind you I'm the one that's saving what the fuck is left of the Initiative, so your authority can kiss my ass." Sara leans on the console, wishing she could be directly in front of this sleazy salarian. "If ark Hyperion didn't dock and save the day, you'd be starving and exile everybody else just to save your own snakeskin. Nobody would be left to 'disobey'. The exiles got a lot farther than the remnants of the Initiative by disobeying you in the first place; think real long and hard on that, Director." She pivots sharply, too riled up to push the button herself. "SAM, terminate the vidcall."

Storming down the stairs, her gaze locks with Peebee, waiting by the research center. As soon as their eyes connect, Peebee smiles and holds out her hand. "Kadara is 6 hours away. Wanna sleep in?"

"Yes please," Sara sighs exasperatedly, already taking off her shirt. Peebee rolls her eyes at the sight of the Blastos tanktop.

"Hope you don't plan on wearing that next time we see the Archon's ugly mug."

"Too late, already did." Sara shrugs, "when we first met." She grins when the asari groans. "What? It was under my shirt! Nothin' beats a hanar spectre."

"You're so lame," Peebee chuckles, shaking her head. Her hand bounces expectantly as she turns. "Last chance, slow slogger."

Is slogger even a word? Maybe it didn't translate properly. Regardless, Sara doesn't need another hint. She accepts the offer graciously, threading their fingers together, trying to swallow the giddiness in her chest. Peebee's hand is cool to the touch, thank god—she needs to cool off after that meeting with Tann. And maybe some chill pills. She slows in their walk and squeezes the asari's hand. "You heard all that, right? Do you think I was too much? Too sassy?"

"Too classy for the likes of him," Peebee huffs, smiling for Sara. "And by the way, there is something that would beat a hanar spectre."

"Oh?"

"An elcor spectre." Peebee clears her throat, then assumes a monotone voice. It's so unlike her. "Remorsefully; try not to scream, human."

Sara laughs, but a shudder shoots down her spine when she actually imagines it. "Oh, god, that would be scarier, yeah."

"I'd know," the asari shrugs, "mount a cannon on the back, they're good to go. Watch some fireworks."

"Oh, right, your dad was an elcor." She reluctantly breaks the link between them to climb down the ladder; curiosity sparks. "What was he like?"

"Ugh, annoying. He was a psychologist."

Sara bursts out laughing and nearly falls flat on her ass when her feet touch the ground. She ends up falling when Peebee takes the same ladder and knocks her off her balance with biotics. The asari stands over her, hands on hips, grinning mischievously as she assumes the same elcor impersonation. "Consolingly; I see. Curious; and how does that make you feel?"

"No way," Sara breathes between chuckles, "no way was he a psychologist." Then again, suppose it's not too much of a stretch if the Citadel had elcors in politics.

"You'll recall I did mention he ended up being the quick-witted one, after my mother slowed down? His smarts are the only reason she chose him." Peebee's shit-eating grin is far too wide to be taken seriously; she has to be pulling Sara's leg. "C'mon, you're wasting time down there." The asari offers her hand, the mirth replaced by a sultry look. "You should be doing something productive instead."

"Offended indignation; is sex all I'm good for?" Sara retorts as she reaches for the hand, laughing when Peebee scoffs and shoves her back down instead, leaving her to fend for herself as she clambers to her feet and follows the asari to her quarters.

Revenge is immediately sought after the second her doors close, granting them privacy. Sara grunts when she's pushed against the wall, teeth scraping her shoulder, nimble hands making short work of her belt. Her lip is bit and suckled, sending tendrils of heat down to the pits of her belly. A pitiful whimper is coaxed out of her when Peebee strokes her through her underwear.

This is new; usually, the asari's turn is first.

Every nerve is set ablaze as a hand sneaks under her tanktop, raking nails down her back. Pain licks a spot on her neck, tended to affectionately soon after Peebee bites hard enough that's sure to make another hickey. "Scarf day today?" Sara rasps weakly, groaning when she's nipped again. A boot hits the insides of her feet, spreading her legs wider, and electricity buzzes when she's finally touched bare. Her hips rock instinctively, needing more; it feels too weird to be taking and not giving, though.

Apparently she's not allowed to anyways—one deft hand catches her wrists together, and breaths skirt over her ear. "You first. You need it more. Might as well be wearing armor, after that meeting. Forget everything. That doesn't matter anymore."

"Fuck," Sara husks when Peebee's fingers enunciate her point—she clearly won't settle for anything less than what she wants. The blastos tanktop decorates the floor soon enough, and goosebumps break out when Sara's firmly pressed against the cold wall.

Her omni-tool lights up.

"Pathfinder, got a question for ya."

"Fuck, Liam," Sara growls, and a rush of need jolts through her when Peebee kisses her throat, pushing deliciously with her fingers.

"Answer it," the asari whispers, "I dare you."

"Mnngg... Shouldn't you be telling me to shut it o—oh fuck that feels good..."

"You need to shut off. I'll help with that." Peebee hides her smug smirk in Sara's neck. "But first: answer it."

There's absolutely no doubt what the asari's intention is. Sara rises to the challenge, too proud to say no. She accepts Liam's comm-link request. "There will be consequences for this." Good god, her voice is as rough as rocks. And she can't care. "It better be—" she sucks in a sharp breath and bites her tongue when Peebee pumps and curls inside of her. "—ihh-important enough to risk your f-fucking..." Pleasure blinds her and she barely silences the moan bubbling in her throat. "...life."

"Not really."

Jesus, all that effort to try and be inconspicuous, and this asshole...!

"Disconnecting."

"Wait, Pathfinder!"

Too late. Sara doesn't screw around, unless it's screwing around with a specific person. She disables her comms and pushes to stare at Peebee expectantly, who smiles back as if she's innocent and clueless.

Fucking liar.

"Turn yours off too, bef—"

"Peebee, got a question for ya. Is the Pathfinder with you?"

"Don't you dare answer it," Sara warns as menacingly as one can, half-naked.

"You know he's just gonna go on the system comms then, right?"

Sara groans exasperatedly. "No! Stop being reasonable. It's not allowed anymore. I firmly forbid it. Pathfinder's orders. Punishment is the airlock."

"Oh, well, then. Okay." Peebee all too eagerly pulls away.

"No! Stop being unreasonable too!"

And adds insult to injury as she licks her fingers.

"That's it," Sara hastily buckles her belt, darting to grab Peebee's wrists, twisting until the asari is the one pinned against the wall. Desire demands it's due.

"Peebee?"

"FUCK!" Sara explodes, and Peebee's evil cackles fills the spacious room—echoing, surrounding, haunting the poor pathfinder.

"Are you alive? Is the Pathfinder holding you hostage? I'm willing to negotiate; what are her demands?"

Sara grabs the asari's forearm and jerks it up to her face. "Answer it." A request all too happily indulged. As soon as the comm-link is established, the pathfinder's voice drops lowly, gravelly, oozing venomous murderous intent. She enunciates every single word crystal clear to make sure the promise is conveyed properly: every single second—of the last seconds of Liam's life—will be excruciatingly painful.

"I will find you." Her nostrils flare. "And I will torture you. When I am through with you, you will be begging me to kill you."

"Pathfinder."

No nonsense. Something's off, derailing Sara from emotion as logic comes rushing back. She exchanges concerned looks with Peebee.

"That pyjak. It got out it's cage."

"Okay, and?"

"And it shit all over Peebee's bot."

"What?!" Peebee screams, and there's absolutely no hesitation as she marches out with a vengeance. "I'm going to kill that thing!"

Curses are still heard even after the doors close. Sara's left all by her lonesome self in her quarters, staring, contemplating. She calmly redresses herself.

And marches out with a vengeance.

"I'm going to kill you, Liam."