Three Little Lovebirds

Chapter 29 – Parallel Lives

"Magistrate, the Harvest nears. There are those among us who have begun to question your expediency."

"Is that so? I'd thought have after millennia of waiting, they could afford to be a little more patient."

The Shadow Broker clamped another cigar between his skeletal teeth, watching the tip burst into flame. Smoke rising from the ashes mingled with the hologram projected into the centre of the room. Before him the multi-limbed form of Harbinger hung suspended like a mighty leviathan of old Earth legend. He did not bother to smile; only organics responded to such a gesture.

"Perhaps the other old ones should have a little faith."

"Faith is irrelevant." Harbinger's voice was monotone, yet the information dealer could tell that it was angry. "You are either capable or incapable of fulfilling your function. Prove your worth and bring us this 'Shepard'."

"Try not to be so limited. That's why you made me in the first place is it not?" The Shadow Broker rose from his seat. "It is not as simple as you think. These creatures are like insects. They are insignificant yet tenacious; not individually but as a species. All it takes is for a few to remain and our great work could be undone. Sovereign knew of this, as did the Protheans, and that is why he fell for their trap."

"Sovereign's corruption by the thrall's infection is only a minor delay." Harbinger's ghostly form revolved slowly in place, tracking the Shadow Broker as he paced slow circles around it. "When the time comes, you will deal with it."

"I will. For now, Shepard believes it to be the enemy; a viewpoint not helped by that Saren puppet it keeps displaying. I do not believe it even realises it is infected."

"Belief is an organic system Magistrate. I deal in facts, as should you. We have no use for your speculations."

"Of course. I was merely hypothesising based on the limited data available. Sovereign has not been seen since the attack on Eden Prime, and even my sources cannot track it down. Whatever its intentions, we must prepare for the worst."

"That is why you must bring us Shepard. It's genetic markers must be sampled and analyzed. Once that is complete, you will receive the necessary modifications. We will not allow the dying curse of a dead race to stop the Harvest."

"I am well aware. You will have your corpse Harbinger, but I need more time. It will not work if I simply force its obedience. Shepard is unusually resistant to the indoctrination process, yet I have isolated some weaknesses that I can exploit. Its mind will snap, it will not be long."

Harbinger shifted slightly, deep in thought as the Magistrate's words threaded their way through its vast internal matrix. Billions upon billions of individual processes, all subjugated towards one goal. The Shadow Broker simply waited. For all their power, the old machines were less adept when it came to the devisal of new ideas. Time and a faultless list of past successes had led to them becoming...arrogant. No, arrogance was an organic failing. It would be more apt to say they had simply found a formula which worked and were unwilling to consider alternatives. However, events of the previous cycle had shown the potential dangers of complacency. That is why he had been forged; a Reaper who could walk amongst their flock without arousing suspicion and who could understand and manipulate the organics' systems from within. Indoctrinated agents were useful, but suffered the same restrictions as their non-brainwashed counterparts; and their feeble minds could not contain the presence of greatness for long.

"Very well, Magistrate. This exchange is terminated, but we caution you. You are beginning to sound like one of them. Do not allow yourself to become corrupted as Sovereign did. Organic emotion is a contemptible weakness."

Harbinger's ghostly presence faded away into nothingness, leaving the Shadow Broker alone with his thoughts. It was true that he had been designed to accurately emulate organics and as such, had access to a wider variety of their traits than others of his kind. That was all they were though; a tool, nothing more. Any satisfaction he experienced was simply approval of an efficient and logical undertaking.

"Corrupted? Emotion?" He muttered to himself, pausing to stub out his cigar and adjust his top-hat to a more favourable position. "As if the bleating of a lamb can affect the shepherd."

"Oh wow, look at this one!" Tali exclaimed, drawing the bolt of cloth out of its tube to inspect it more closely. "Look Lucy, can you see how the pattern catches the light? It's beautiful."

The Spectre smiled fondly. They had been shopping for an hour now and the young quarian's enthusiasm still wasn't diminished. The primary purpose of them visiting the clothes store was to find Liara and herself some more suitable casual attire, but even Shepard had to admit it was easy to get distracted. Befitting its proximity to the Presidium and the Ward's wealthiest district, 'Torix and Sons Fashion for the Discerning Gentleman, Lady, and Androgyny' was not what anyone would call a budget establishment; a fact which was reflected in the incredible fabrics they stocked from all across Citadel space. There were asari silks, human cashmere, and even traditional quarian moththread from before the geth war - a sample of which was held in Tali's hands right now.

The young engineer approached one of the turian sales clerks, apparently undaunted by his look of mild surprise. Being an establishment for the wealthy, it was perhaps unlikely that he had ever seen a quarian in there before. Still, it was better than the treatment they'd received in several other stores. The first one they'd visited had almost denied Tali entry, stating that they didn't want to 'lower their class of customer'. It had taken Lucy's pulling of Spectre status to allow them to go in, but by that point she was so furious that she was determined the store wouldn't receive one credit of her money.

"How much for two metres of this one?" Tali asked.

"Well Madam, this is a pre-exile piece from Rannoch itself, which is regrettably not producing fabrics anymore. All that remains is what we have in stock. Well, all that remains outside the hands of private collectors that is. Still, for a native such as yourself I think we could maybe do a slight discount. I'd have to ring it up, but off the top of my head, it would be about 1,400,000 credits per square meter."

Tali looked despondently at the sample of cloth she was holding.

"Oh...never mind then."

"If you're interested Madam," the turian added, perhaps seeking a sale or maybe just not wanting other patrons to see an upset customer. "We have some more...affordable options in the same style but with different thread. Check the section over there."

"Alright, thank you." Tali handed him the moththread material with great care and reverence, looking at it one last time before slinking away behind a partition wall towards the budget section. Lucy's heart went out to the young quarian; precious few artefacts from the time before the war were left outside of the Flotilla. It would be nice for Tali to have something that reminded her of home. Surreptitiously, the Spectre brought up her omni-tool and opened the app that tied into her bank account. She didn't like checking it too often; every time she did, the vast sum made her feel a little bit faint. It wouldn't do to be distracted from the mission with thoughts of just how rich she had become. Still, at times like this, it was definitely a blessing.

Peeking around to make sure Tali, and to a lesser extent Liara, who was not known for being the best at keeping secrets, were not looking her way, she sidled over to the assistant.

"Say, how long have you worked here?"

"Five years Madam," the turian replied proudly, his spine straightening in the way all turians did when they got to list their accomplishments. "Torix was my great grandfather. He passed down his exceptional gifts with a needle through four generations. My father has been teaching me the craft; in two more years, I'll get promoted to tailor."

"Wow. So I guess you must have a lot of practice at judging people's measurements by eye."

"I haven't had to hold a tape measure in three years Madam."

"Very impressive," Lucy smiled. She had intended to flatter the young man a bit in the hopes of getting him to help her, but she found that she was genuinely impressed. "I'd like to see that talent in action. I know, maybe you can tell me the measurements of my quarian friend's hood over there."

"I can indeed Madam, although if I might be so bold, it is a tad on the small side for her. I'd take the edges out by about ten deciunits if it were me."

"I see. So how much material would be needed to make one that fits her properly?"

"My best guess would be 1.6 square metres. You need a bit of leeway to do the embroidery around the edges."

Lucy picked up the cloth Tali had left on the counter.

"I'll take the entire bolt. There's no saying how much patching up it will have to go through."

The turian's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"Very good Madam, and when will you need that ready by?"

"This evening if possible."

"I'm afraid our tailors don't work that late Madam. I can have it ready by 11.00 tomorrow local time if that suits you." Sidling over to the till, he tapped in some numbers. "That will be 8,000,000 credits. Can I take your name, please?"

"Lucy Shepard, Council Spectre."

"I-I apologise Madam Shepard. I meant to say 6,000,000 credits. We'll have it ready for you in four hours."

"Excellent. In that case, I'll be back to collect it then." Lucy beamed before setting off to find Liara.

"Very good Madam Shepard," the turian said to her retreating form. "Very good indeed."

"So, found anything you like yet?"

"I am unsure," Liara replied, her gaze tracing the contours of a dress which clung to its mannequin like a second skin. "I do not have much experience with styles. I usually choose my clothing based on practicality. Some of these are nice, but I'm not sure I am comfortable with something so...form-fitting."

"Looking for something a little more demure maybe?" Lucy nodded. "I understand. I've never been big on outfits which show more skin than fabric. It's like everyone needs to constantly push the boundaries of public decency." She smirked. "Not that I'd mind terribly seeing something like that on you."

"I-uh-I see. Well...I-I guess if you want I can maybe..."

"Relax Liara, I was just kidding. You choose whatever you want. Besides, if it was just you and me, I'd say clothing's optional at best."

The asari gulped at the prospect, subconsciously fidgeting with the collar of her lab coat. It was always difficult to tell when Lucy was teasing her and when she was being serious. The Spectre was playful to put it lightly and now that they had engaged in a relationship, Liara found that she was getting a crash course in flirtatious behaviour. It was all still so new; they'd been together for less than 24 hours. It still felt unreal in many ways; there was an almost dream-like quality to their interactions, as if Liara was experiencing them but not an active participant in what she did or said. Perhaps it was a good thing...if she thought about it too hard, it would probably terrify her.

In all her time with Lucy before now, she'd feared rejection and heartbreak. Now that her dreams had become a reality however, she found it no less nerve-wracking. In some ways it was scarier; after all, she'd never seriously considered what would happen if Lucy returned her love. Fear of the unknown was a trait shared by most sentient species, and for Liara, she couldn't think of anything more 'unknown' than this.

Lucy picked up on the slight crinkle of the asari's brow; a sign that she was thinking intensely.

"You okay? I lost you there for a second."

"I-I'm fine," Liara smiled. It wasn't forced; it never was when Lucy was around, but she still felt sort of...restless. She felt like she'd been asked to play a game but no one had thought to explain the rules to her. Of course, her extranet research had yielded some useful pieces of data (and some less useful pieces, too, she thought, blushing slightly at the memory), but they were too general. This was a personal situation, and it occurred to her that really, there was only one person who could answer these questions with any accuracy.

I guess there is no sense in delaying the inevitable. She thought to herself, swallowing again to moisten her rather dry throat.

"Actually, L-Lucy, there was something..." Shepard looked alarmed. Damn, that had been a bad way of phrasing it. "N-Nothing important...really...I mean, it can wait."

"Hey, if something's bothering you, you don't have to hide it." Lucy placed a hand on Liara's shoulder. "Better to share it. I believe you and Tali taught me that."

Her words brought another smile to Liara's face. She remembered how scared she'd been when she sat Lucy down with Tali for their little 'talk'. Still, that had turned out okay. Better than okay in fact; it had felt so good to be open with each other and honest about their feelings. It gave her confidence that what she wanted to say to Shepard would also be acceptable.

"You're right...of course, you're right." Liara met her love's worried gaze. Actually, it probably should wait. She was afraid, and she wanted to tell Lucy that, but she didn't want to risk spoiling the fun they'd been having together so far. Besides, this was a public shopping venue; not the best place to have a personal conversation. "But it can wait, honestly; i-it's just a little thing. Can we talk later...this evening maybe?"

"Sure thing, darling. I'm here whenever you need me."

"Thank you Lucy." Liara could feel her heart fluttering. "I-It means a lot to me when you say that. But, I'm fine. Let's make the most of our time together here. I believe you promised to help me pick an outfit."

To her relief, Lucy let it go without protest. It was just one of the endless things she found to love about the Spectre. She always knew exactly what the asari needed, sometimes even better than she did.

"I did make that promise, and I intend to fulfil it. So, we want dresses a bit more on the modest side, eh? I think I saw some nice ones over where Tali is." Lucy took her by the hand, pausing only to place a kiss on her cheek. "Come on, let's check them out."

In a daze, Liara followed. Goddess, no matter what else, she didn't think she'd ever get used to feeling her soul-mate's lips on her skin.

An hour later, the three of them stepped out of the store and into the perpetual semi-twilight which illuminated the Wards. While the Presidium operated a token day-night cycle, the Wards dispensed with the notion altogether. It was dark enough to sleep and light enough to work; and there was always work going on. With so many individuals from different planets, all coming and going at irregular intervals, trying to coordinate people's sleeping patterns was simply impossible. As such, most establishments were constantly open.

Shepard had managed to subtly steer Tali away from buying a new hood and fortunately the quarian had found some nice belts to replace a few on her suit which were beginning to go. Having all found something they liked, the trio had resolved to return to the apartment before heading out again for dinner. It would also give Lucy and Liara a chance to change into their newly acquired evening wear.

Being unsure of their surroundings, they'd gotten a taxi to the shopping precinct earlier; but it actually turned out to be no more than a stone's throw from where they were staying. Easy walking distance.

Lucy cantered along at a leisurely pace, enjoying the evening air. Of course, it wasn't real evening and it technically wasn't real air, not like a true atmosphere. Still, it was nice to pretend. She was also trying to surreptitiously act as a sort of conversation-monitor. The three of them were getting used to making small talk amongst themselves by now, but Lucy made a point of steering the topics in a direction where both Tali and Liara could contribute. She of course loved and listened to whatever they had to say; be it the prothean hierarchical structure or the mechanics of an eezo fuel injector, but at this early stage she wanted to ensure that the two other women also found common ground with each other. It wasn't too difficult, what with Liara's science and Tali's engineering backgrounds; they had quite a large overlap to work with.

"Do you remember those old K-2 models?" the asari was saying. "They seemed quite popular when they were first released. In fact, our archaeology team used one on a ruins expedition in my seventh year."

"Keelah, that must have given you problems."

"Indeed. We were no more than three days in, and had just finished charting the first four antechambers when our entire grid failed. Turns out there was a bug in the program that meant it was incompatible with our soil sampler. Not only did we lose all our data, we were forced to abandon the trip entirely as replacement equipment couldn't be shipped in before the monsoon season flooded the temple."

"At least your ship wasn't using it to control navigation," Tali chuckled. "I remember, we picked one up in a bargain bin at an Omega tech supplier. I couldn't understand why it was so cheap, and the owner 'assured' me it lived up to its supposed specs. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we installed it, and our ship ended up with a thirty degree starboard list. We nearly collided with our escort before we realised where the problem was coming from."

The chatter continued in that vein, with Lucy interjecting every now and then, until they once again arrived in the courtyard outside their complex. It was still a novel experience; passing between the immaculate rows of scintillating fountains and intricate topiary. Verdant blooms of all shapes and colours imaginable fought to be the centre of attention, arranged in elaborate displays or clinging to the leafy form of an asari maiden, sculpted from the hedgerow like it were marble and not a living plant. The architecture, too, seemed to be a natural part of this organic tableau. Supporting pillars rose curvaceously from the ground, blending seamlessly into the glittering skyscrapers overhead until it was impossible to tell where aesthetics stopped and utility began. It mirrored the luxury of the rooms within and achieved a strange, conflicting impression of decadence whilst still remaining minimalistic.

It's not fair. Lucy thought. Why did the Reapers have to come now? I could spend a lifetime in this place.

Then again, were it not for the Reaper threat, she would never have earned the money to come here, or found the wonderful women to share it with. Perhaps it really was true that every cloud had a silver lining. And the darker the cloud, the brighter it shined.

Liara was flustered, and for once, Commander Shepard was not the cause. Well, at least not directly.

I'm a scientist and a grown maiden. She repeated sternly to herself. I must be able to figure this out.

For the tenth time in as many minutes, she tried to ascertain the mechanics of the many-layered garment she'd recently purchased. The outfit had seemed simple enough, yet that plain facade had apparently hidden a fiendish interior. It reminded her of some of the ancient fables from medieval Thessia. Back then, valiant knights had to be helped into their armour by their attending squire. She'd always found the idea a bit laughable. After all, how could someone not be able to put their own clothes on? It seemed, however, that she would be forced to eat those ill-conceived words.

"Why couldn't they have just designed it with a zipper, or buttons?" she muttered to herself, rotating the dress in front of her in a fruitless attempt to find an entry point. It had looked so elegant and simple on the mannequin. Goddess, what would Shepard, or for that matter, any rational being think if they could see her now?

Of course, Lucy could no doubt help. When it came to dresses, even the usually trouser and t-shirt clad Spectre had more experience than her. She found herself extremely reluctant to ask however, and it all boiled down to the fact that above all else, she feared disappointing her soul mate. It was irrational, a fact she was well aware of on a conscious level; how many times had Lucy said that she didn't hold any expectations of what Liara did and didn't know? But like a fear of the dark, merely knowing that there was no reason to be scared did little to comfort her. There was so much essential knowledge that she was simply lacking. She wondered how Tali managed; it was the quarian's first relationship as well, yet she seemed to be able to cope just fine.

Liara's line of thought continued as she attempted to turn the dress inside out in the hope of finding something useful inside. What did a girlfriend do exactly? She knew that she loved Lucy; more deeply and more passionately than she had ever loved anything before, but how did she express that? Through physical affection? That seemed like a good bet, but what types of affection? And how much? And when was it acceptable? She didn't feel like she knew enough on the subject to answer any of her questions satisfactorily. What about even more intimate acts of love? And what about Union? The thoughts of that and what it entailed were enough to make her quite weak in the knees. Perhaps she should start somewhere a bit further down the chain, like kissing or cuddling.

Or maybe even just holding hands. She thought glumly.

The only person other than Lucy who may be able to help her right now was Tali. The quarian had been with the Spectre longer than she had, both as a shipmate and as a lover. However, Liara wasn't sure whether their relationship had yet reached the stage where they could comfortably discuss such things. She had the feeling her inquires were likely to become quite...detailed. After all, if there was one thing she took pride in, it was her insatiable thirst for knowledge.

Still, Liara liked Tali. There were things about the quarian that reminded her of Shepard, and even things which reminded her of herself. It was odd then that based off her readings on the subject, she'd understood that the assumption was that she should hate her. Perhaps here, her inexperience and lack of exposure to the complexities of attraction were actually a benefit. She'd been firstly too heartbroken, and then too confused for it to occur to her at any point to dislike Lucy's partner. In the end, she'd chosen to trust her instincts over perceived societal norms, and it had paid off. Tali was energetic to the point of effervescence and generally a delight to talk to. Liara had also been pleasantly surprised at how much the engineer had known about the natural sciences. She'd been worried initially that they might not have much to talk about, and was glad to be proven wrong.

By the Goddess, Ashira, and Omissa, who designed this infernal torture device?

There was nothing more Liara could think to do with the dress that wouldn't risk tearing it. Huffing with frustration, she sat down on the bed and began the process of turning it back the right way out again.

Defeated by a piece of clothing. How undignified.

It looked like she would have to ask Lucy for assistance after all. There was no real getting around it, unless she was willing to go to dinner naked.

Perhaps it's for the best. She thought, trying to look on the bright side. She'd wanted to have a discussion with the Spectre anyway, and at least now she was unable to talk herself out of it.

Quickly, not wanting to test whether she actually could convince herself it was a bad idea, Liara got to her feet, laying the dress out on the bed and smoothing away the worst of the wrinkles. There was no need for Lucy to see just how fruitless her attempts had been. When she was quite content that it looked presentable again, and had double, then triple checked in what she was forced to admit was nothing more than a stalling tactic, she headed for the door.

Here goes nothing.

In the corridor, she could hear Tali humming from the next room along. Liara didn't recognise the tune, she guessed it was probably quarian in origin, but it did serve to lift her spirits. It was impossible not to be infected with some of the young girl's cheerfulness.

Approaching Lucy's door, Liara could see that it was unlocked. She was about to step through when she realised that Lucy may well be in the middle of getting changed herself. The thought was not without appeal, but she decided that perhaps signalling her arrival might be more prudent than just striding in.

She jabbed the buzzer. No turning back now.

"It's open."

Come on; deep, steadying breaths.

"Lucy?" With a faint pneumatic hiss, Liara was admitted access. She stepped across the threshold...and was greeted by a sight which almost blew her right back out again.

Shepard was...no, no, people couldn't have even conceived of such an image when they invented language to describe the world around them. How could anyone expect mere words to shoulder such an immense burden as describing how Lucy Shepard appeared to her at that moment? It was unfair, utterly unfair. No one person should be able to obsolete the entire field of linguistics simply by existing. Then again, Liara would never have thought that any one person could leave her drooling like an idiot either.

"Does it look okay?" Lucy enquired innocently, seemingly unaware of the existential crisis she'd sparked in Liara's head. "I've never really had the figure for dresses, but I think I can just about pull it off."

Okay? Okay?! How can she not realise what a vision she is?

In the deepest recesses of her memory, somewhere amongst week-old dreams and half-remembered childhood years, Liara recalled hearing about a primitive tribe from a long extinct pre-industrial species who had over nine hundred words for beauty. Perhaps their dead language could begin to do her lover justice, but certainly not the crude syllables she knew. Any phrase she could think of withered and died before it could even reach her lips; it was like trying to sculpt glass flowers by wielding a sledgehammer.

"Uh..." Liara tried, she really did, but it looked like words were definitely out of the question.

"What's the matter?" The smile on Lucy's face faltered. "Is purple not my colour?"

Liara had to make her understand...and there was only one way she knew to achieve that. The decision to act came suddenly and without hesitation; quite unlike her usual self. Lucy did things to her that she still couldn't explain, and one of those things was give her the will to seize the initiative. She had to show Shepard. Perhaps if Lucy could feel even a fraction of the admiration and sheer desire that surged through Liara's veins right now...

It wouldn't be Union; not by a long shot. Liara was still unprepared for such an intimate act, and at that moment, she almost felt unworthy too. No, it would be more like the brief joining they'd done after Therum; between soul-mates, it would be more than enough for Lucy to feel how she felt. Last time she'd been guarded, fearful of the emotions which were begging to stir within her and how Shepard might react if she found out. This time though, she'd gladly bare her soul to the woman she loved.

The space between them disappeared, and Liara had just a moment to take in Lucy's startled eyes, before her's shifted to pitch black. From a throat choked with emotion, two words struggled free.

"Embrace eternity."

Lucy had forgotten.

How?

How could she forget?

The world swam in a dizzying miasma of pain and delirium. She was dimly aware of being back on board the Normandy, yet the ship appeared deserted. The walls weren't right either; they were...damaged, quite badly, as if something had torn through them. And why couldn't she move her hands and feet?

"Ah, welcome back Shepard." Oh god, that voice. That infernal, hellish, nightmarish voice. How had she forgotten that? "So glad you could join me again. What is this, an afternoon nap? Never mind, let's begin."

A cold, unyielding claw smashed into her gut. Yes...yes, it was all starting to come back, just like it did every time. The fists came first; that was fine, this was the part she could deal with.

Her body shook as another blow struck, painting another blue mark on the canvas of bruises across her torso.

"You may wonder why I bother," the Shadow Broker said, striking again, this time hard enough to crack a rib. "After all, you're a soldier. Torture is something you're trained to endure."

Another blow. Lucy forced herself to keep count. That was four so far.

"I have no doubt you could withstand even the most creative of extraction methods," the synthetic continued, pausing briefly to look Lucy in the eye. Despite the fact she could barely register his features in her pain-addled mind, she didn't back down. This metal freak's face was something she'd long since become accustomed to. "But you see, every body has limits, even one as conditioned as yours. A good torturer knows that you can only push someone so far before they fall unconscious, or even worse, die. Once that happens, it doesn't matter what you do."

Five. Six. Lucy stifled a moan of pain.

"But in here you see, there are no limits. You can't pass out, you can't die, you can't even retreat within your own mind. Look around. This is your mind. It's mine now."

Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Lucy felt two more ribs go.

"In here, you can endure anything; anything I can think of, and believe me, I have a lot of inspiration to work with."

The Shadow Broker reached into his breast pocket, withdrawing a long cigar with a flourish, like a magician revealing his chain of handkerchiefs.

"Shall I tell you something else Shepard? Shall I tell you a secret? I know a lot, and I'm very good at keeping them to myself. This one however is a bit more...personal."

He leaned in closer to where Lucy hung, suspended from the ceiling by chains attached to her wrists. There were mere inches between them, and the reek of his cigar filled the Spectre's nose. Lucy hated smoking, but it was something so unbelievably mild after the constant abuse that she almost welcomed it. At least it was a familiar sensation.

"You see, when you played that little stunt with the Prothean device and severed me from the rest of my collective, it changed quite a few rules. Ordinarily, I have an emotional inhibitor to keep me in check, but guess what? That part didn't transfer over. So unfortunately for you, I'm actually enjoying this."

A vice-like grip clamped around Lucy's jaw, fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks. The Shadow Broker held her head in position, readying some kind of cutting tool in his other hand.

"Now, I don't want you to miss this next bit. That does mean I can't have you closing your eyes. I was going to try an honour system and hope you'd be willing to leave them open, as a gesture of trust, but honestly, you don't seem like a particularly trustworthy person."

With two of the fingers he was using to grip her head, the synthetic carefully grasped the lip of Lucy's upper eyelid, pulling it taught. She tensed involuntarily, unable to look away as the implement he was holding drew closer.

"This could be quick and relatively painless, but don't worry, I'll make sure it isn't. I'm sure you can see my point." He paused for a moment, chuckling to himself. "Hah, 'point', get it? No? Oh well."

Sharp metal sliced through paper-thin flesh, and this time Shepard couldn't hold in the scream.

"Poor baby," the Shadow Broker cooed over the unintelligible sounds of agony coming from his victim. It took him thirty seconds to finish his grisly work, and by the time he withdrew, his hands were slick with the Spectre's blood. "I almost wish I knew how much this is hurting you."

"G...G..." Lucy struggled to speak, gasping to fill her ruined lungs with enough air to muster a couple of words. Her vision swam, blurring with a mixture of pained tears and now her crimson lifeblood. "Go...to...hell...y-you fucking...monster."

"That's so hurtful Shepard. You're going to make me cry."

The Shadow Broker wiped his hands on the front of his suit. The bloodstain lingered for a second before disappearing; whether it was a special material or simply a property of the dream world they were in Lucy didn't know, or at that moment, care. She struggled feebly against her restraints but she knew it was no use; she hadn't been able to break free the first time when she'd had all her strength, let alone now, after countless sessions of beating and mutilation. It was always the same; every time she slept, she woke up here, remembering the previous horrors which had been inflicted on her. And every time, she tried with all her might to hold on to the images, to make her waking self aware of the nightmare lurking within her own head. Every time though, she had failed.

"I bet you're wondering why I smoke when I have no lungs or sense of smell," the Shadow Broker was saying, as casually as if he was talking to an old friend. "For a start, I might argue that those facts actually enhance the experience. I cannot kill myself with cancerous tumours or taste the bitter tang of tar and nicotine. But it's more than that. Smoke makes people uncomfortable; the stench is unpleasant, the health risks are worrying, and the fact that there is no logical reason for me to do so seems to put people on edge. It's curious how the fact that there is no reason is itself a reason, don't you think? Existence is full of these tiny ironies."

He paused, calculating gaze once again fixed on Lucy's beautiful but now disfigured features.

"Of course, there is one other benefit."

Without warning, the Shadow Broker withdrew the lit cigar from his mouth and unceremoniously jammed the red-hot tip into Lucy's unblinking eye. Fiery embers gleefully tore into the fragile flesh, cavorting like tiny devils across the surface and burning all in their path.

"This is what you get Shepard," he hissed in her ear, grinding the stub in harder and smirking at the renewed sounds of anguish. "I'm going to peel away the layers of your mind until there's nothing left but a hollow shell. No one can save you in here; all those allies and lovers mean nothing. In here, you are utterly alone."

"She is never alone."

The voice sounded behind the Shadow Broker. It was...familiar; Lucy recognised it from somewhere but couldn't see through the pain long enough to remember where she'd heard it before. There was something about it though, something warm and comforting which pierced through the thick red haze and stirred an emotion deep within her chest.

Happiness.

God, she hadn't thought she'd ever feel it again.

"What?" Lucy recoiled at the sound, hope faltering like a flame in the wind. The Shadow Broker's voice was so full of malice and hatred; what could anyone do against such merciless, twisted, unrelenting evil?

"She is not alone," the voice said again, strong as before. "And by the Goddess, I will kill you for what you have done to her."