Who Saves the Hero by Kudara

Chapter 18

Normandy - Third Deck, outside of the XO's office and quarters

Shepard paused outside of her XO's office, she still wasn't too sure if this bright idea of hers was a good one or not. Finding herself with two spare hours earlier today, she had found a public terminal and downloaded a copy of a book she had read several years ago during her freshman year at SAMA (Systems Alliance Military Academy). A psychological study of the different methods of leadership used over the course of history, focusing on why they were successful and what their weaknesses were, and then moving onto an in-depth study of the Alliance's military leadership methodology.

Shepard felt as if Miranda and she had become closer after she had helped Miranda protect her sister, and that the other woman was beginning to truly trust her. But this, this could backfire in her face in a very bad way since one of the leadership methods it went over was the emotionally manipulative method the Illusive Man employed to ensure Miranda stayed loyal to him. Even if the other woman didn't get angry with her, Shepard knew that doing this could tip her hand to the Illusive Man. Revealing that she was attempting to subvert the crew and switch their loyalty from Cerberus and him... to her. To have any chance of winning Miranda to her side though, Shepard knew she needed the woman to see what the Illusive Man was doing to control her and to understand how he was doing it. Shepard squared her shoulders and touched the door's control's.

Miranda looked up at the sound of the door, a small smile appearing as she recognized who it was, "Commander, What can I do for you?"

Shepard came all the way inside the office, letting the door shut behind her. "Have a minute?"

"Of course," Miranda said, rising up from her chair, "I've been meaning to speak with you in fact." She went over to her couch and sat on it. Shepard followed her over, watching the woman with growing concern when the black haired woman didn't look up at her, but instead stared at the floor as if lost in thought. Whatever the topic Miranda wanted to speak about, it obviously troubled her. Miranda finally looked up at Shepard when the Commander sat down on the couch as well. "I...wanted to apologize. I didn't fully believe that you'd be up to the task. And it seems I was wrong. Frankly, based on what I've seen I wish Cerberus had recruited you earlier."

Shepard didn't reply for a moment, various responses running through her mind, several of which she immediately discarded. "Miranda, you know I don't agree with Cerberus's methods or their goals. I've never made any attempt to hide that fact. Before my death, I shut down several Cerberus experiments on the rachni, thorian creepers and husks, where they were trying to create an army for themselves." Miranda looked ready to speak, but Shepard held up a finger indicating she wanted a moment longer, "We're working together right now to stop the Collectors, and I've been impressed with you and your performance as my XO, but there's no way I would ever join Cerberus." Shepard didn't say it angrily or accusingly, she just simply stated it, meeting Miranda's gaze evenly the entire time, and then she waited.

Miranda drew in a breath, "First, the husks were dead, the thorian creepers mindless and the rachni were abandoned once we understood their intelligence. Second, we weren't breeding an army. We were breeding expendable shock-troops for high-risk scenarios. How many soldiers died in Saren's attack on Eden Prime? How many would have lived if we'd had just a dozen rachni soldiers on our side?" With some effort, Shepard kept her expression perfectly even, betraying nothing of her thoughts. How little the Cerberus operative knew. With any luck, she would have more rachni soldiers on her side than a dozen, but they would be there of their own free will and volition.

"And Jack? Taking children and experimenting on them? Torturing them?" Shepard couldn't help the hint of anger that crept into her tone.

"A mistake," Miranda responded immediately. "No question, and not mine," she defended herself. "And one that was corrected once we discovered the extent of the experiments that were being performed."

Shepard really wanted to say something about the unacceptability of performing painful experiments on children in the first place, but she didn't want this conversation to disintegrate into Miranda defending Cerberus from her. She knew she would get nowhere with the other woman if she allowed that to happen. "With your intelligence and abilities you could have landed any job you wanted. Why choose this?"

Miranda looked relieved at the change in topic. She leaned back against the back of the couch. "Because I still envy the time Mordin spent with the Special Tasks Group, working with people as smart as he was." She shifted and leaned forward again, her gaze intent upon Shepard, "Cerberus never tells me that something is impossible. They give me the resources and say, "Do it." And they've given you even more. A new life, a new ship, the Illusive Man's personal attention..."

Attention, which she could have really done without, Shepard thought being careful to hide her reaction from Miranda. "And you, you've been a definite asset to me, the crew and this mission," Shepard responded, bringing the focus of the conversation back to the woman sitting opposite her.

Miranda shook her head, "You'd have done fine without me. I may not have believed it before, but..." she lowered her head, "I don't have what you do -- that fire that makes someone willing to follow you into hell itself." The black haired woman rose abruptly, and walked over to the other side of the room. She looked out the window, "My father got me the best genes money could buy. Guess it wasn't enough," she finished, her tone carrying a hint of bitter sarcasm.

Shepard knew she couldn't have asked for a better opening, but this wasn't the right time. She needed to address something else first, because this was hardly the first time Miranda had brought up this subject. "You always bring up your genetic tailoring. It really bothers you doesn't it." Shepard rose from the couch, and crossed over the intervening space between them to stand beside Miranda.

The black haired woman turned her head to look at the Commander, "This is what I am Shepard," she let out her breath in a huff. "I can't hide it. The intelligence, the looks, even the biotics...he paid for all of that." Miranda frowned, "Every one of your accomplishments is due to your skill. The only things I can take credit for are my mistakes."

Shepard immediately shook her head, "You're not coasting on good genes Miranda," she disagreed firmly. "Your ability and dedication speak for themselves."

Miranda turned to face her. The woman stared at her searchingly for a long moment before saying, "Thank you Commander, I appreciate that."

Noticing that the black haired woman looked about ready to end the conversation, Shepard said, "Being able to lead well is a skill, not inborn ability. You can get people to listen to you by being charismatic, but knowing how to leading them is something you have to learn how to do." Miranda had a crease between her brows and looked slightly dubious, but she was listening to her, Shepard noted. "And that's actually what I came down here to speak with you about. One of my responsibilities as your commanding officer is to address any weaknesses I see in your training. I think that both of us realize that you have difficulties leading people who don't already acknowledge your authority to lead."

Not surprisingly, Miranda didn't look thrilled to be discussing this, the black haired woman reluctantly nodded, "It's never been as much of an issue before this mission, but then I've mostly worked with other Cerberus operatives."

"For hundreds of years Earth's militaries have taken in young men and women and trained them how to lead. I know I have a gift for getting people to listen to me," Shepard admitted, and then she shook her head to emphasize her next point, "but that didn't make me a good leader. Officer training taught me how to lead people into battle and not get them, or me, killed. There's no reason why you can't learn it as well. I know you have the raw ability. You're able think tactically and I've seen you make good decisions based on that knowledge during combat. You just need to learn how to connect with people and persuade them that following your decisions is the right course of action for them to take in those situations."

Miranda looked surprised at Shepard's words. She shook her head, "I've never been able to do that."

"Most people entering the Systems Alliance Military Academy can't," Shepard stated, "but they can by the time they leave. You can learn how, you don't have to be born with the ability." Shepard activated her omni-tool, transferred over the book she wanted Miranda to read.

"What's this?" the black haired woman looked down at her omni-tool with a confused frown.

Shepard responded, "A book we were required to read the second semester of our first year, it's on the psychology of leadership. I'd like for you to read it, and when you're done I'd like to discuss it with you."

Miranda looked back up at her, a slightly incredulous expression on her face. Shepard could guess that Miranda was insulted that she thought the Cerberus operative needed to read a freshman year psychology text. "Give it a chance," Shepard requested, "I know you can be a better leader than you are now. That will help you learn how."

The other woman's blue eyes narrowed on her, "Very well Commander," Miranda agreed after a moment. "There's not that much for me to do during the next two days while we're docked and waiting for the upgrades to be completed anyway. I'm sure I can finish this before then," she said her tone taking on a touch of haughtiness.

Shepard almost smirked at that, she didn't really care if Miranda thought it beneath her to read the book, only that she read it. She nodded in acknowledgement, and then lowered her gaze, deep in thought. Should she or should she not? Wasn't it past time to actually thank Miranda for the exacting care the Cerberus operative had taken in rebuilding her, instead of just thinking that she should thank the other woman and not actually doing it? Was she withholding her thanks in some silently sullen punishment of the other woman for having brought her back to life? And if she was, wasn't that beneath her as a person, a marine, and as an officer? Of course there was the possibility that, after Miranda read the book she had just given her, the other woman would think that Shepard was trying to manipulate her if she thanked the Cerberus operative now. Should she continue to wait or not?

Shepard raised her head, "By the way, I've been meaning to thank you for the care you took in repairing me," she told the other woman, openly meeting the other woman's blue eyes and trying to convey her sincerity. "During just about every mission we've taken in since I woke up, I've had reason to be thankful for whatever enhancements you put into me. I'd probably had my head shot off by a gunship yesterday if I hadn't been able to duck so quickly, and I certainly wouldn't have taken on an Eclipse asari commando in unarmed combat today if I hadn't known I was stronger than her and just as fast because of them."

Miranda looked surprised for a moment, and then she smiled, "An asari commando, I'm impressed. Between their skills and biotics, their among the deadliest fighters in the galaxy. And you're welcome, Shepard." She stared at the Commander, her expression thoughtful. Finally she commented, "I think this is the first time you've mentioned them."

"It's been bit disconcerting," Shepard admitted, "being so physically different from what I remember. It's taken me time to get used to it."

Miranda scowled, "I really wish you hadn't been woken up early, you weren't even fully healed. I was preparing to bring you out from under sedation in a week or so depending on how fast you recovered from the final surgery when Wilson turned traitor. I already had a training program put together to help you adapt to the changes. Instead I had to wake you up early to save your life and," she made a dismissive motion with her hand, "well...we've been very busy ever since then."

And how much of that fit into the Illusive Mans plans, Shepard wondered, wondering once again if the mission pace they had kept since her waking was meant, at least partially, to keep her busy and off balance. Shepard shrugged philosophically, "That's how it goes sometimes." She cocked her head a little to the side and asked curiously, "Would it do me any good now."

"The exercise plan I developed?" Miranda asked and Shepard nodded. "Probably, I designed it to show you what you can do now and to give you an idea of your limits."

Shepard's brow rose, "That definitely sounds useful," she responded. It would be better to find her limits in the gym than in the middle of a mission. "Could you forward the program to me?"

"Certainly Commander," Miranda replied. "If you have any questions about it please let me know," she urged.

"I will," Shepard responded. She turned toward the door and then paused; while she was here she should ask about the operational state of the ship, "Is everything still on track so that we can leave for Tuchanka in two days?"

"You've decided to go there first rather than the Citadel?" Miranda was referring to the surprise dossier the Illusive Man had sent them, a master thief who went by the name Katsumi Goto. Shepard had thought they had recruited everyone until this last personnel file had arrived.

"How many pieces of armored glass has Grunt cracked so far?" Shepard asked her dryly.

Miranda grimaced, "Three, he's one of the reasons we can't leave tomorrow. The business we've been using was busy on another job today; we're on their schedule for tomorrow afternoon." She drew in a breath, "Shepard, you might have to accept that whatever's wrong with him might not be something related to him being krogan. Okeer wasn't a scientist; he might have made a mistake when he created Grunt. Perhaps this is some type of hormonal imbalance that's just revealed itself."

Shepard frowned, troubled, "I know that," she admitted, "but I'm hoping it's not, and that Wrex will know what's wrong with him."

Miranda just looked at her for a second. "You've done really well with him," she finally said, her voice sounding purposefully lighter to the Commander's ears. "I thought you were making a mistake to let him out, but he's certainly an asset to the team and he seems to have accepted you as his leader."

Shepard nodded, "Wrex and I talked a lot about the krogan, enough for me to have an idea what I'm doing with him."

"Well, whatever you're doing it's working," Miranda commented as she sat back down at her desk, "and hopefully, after having gotten out and killed a few Eclipse mercenaries today, he will be calmer. We might even be able to get to Tuchanka without him breaking another window." She shook her head, "At least I can hope. It's starting to get expensive."

Shepard chuckled, "That was the general idea behind taking him with me today."

She let go a breath of relief as she left Miranda's office. Well that had went better than she had hoped, now if only things continued that way and this didn't completely blow up in her face. Shepard said a quick prayer for just that. It might not help, but it surely couldn't hurt.

Continuing around toward the Observation Room, Shepard glanced at the door to Life Support. She would talk with Thane about the alteration in her memories later. He was still settling into his new quarters and she didn't want to bother him with her questions tonight. Inquiries about how he handled his race's unique memories, and her own explanations of why she was asking, could wait until tomorrow.

The Observation Room door opened, Samara was seated on the floor directly in front of the large observation window. A faint bluish white glow surrounded the justicar, indicating that her biotics were active. As Shepard walked further into the room, she noticed the asari had her hands raised and between them floated a globe of mass effect energy. Apparently meditating included creating and focusing upon her mass effect fields, no wonder the asari was such a powerful biotic if she spent several hours a day practicing her control.

"Shepard," Samara greeted her, the mass effect field around the asari flared more brightly for a moment and then dissipated away.

"Samara," Shepard replied with a smile, reminded of how Wrex used to greet her. She walked around the seated asari to stand in front of her. "Where would you like me to sit?"

"Where you are will be fine," the justicar responded and watched as Shepard seated herself, matching the asari's own lotus pose. "The meditation I wish to teach you will be time consuming in the beginning," Samara warned, "but it is not difficult. In order for it to be effective however, it must become part of your daily routine." The asari paused for a moment, her pale blue eyes meeting Shepard's light grey ones, and her expression quite serious.

The Spectre sighed and nodded, "This is important, so I'll make time for it." Shepard didn't like the idea of trying to fit one more thing in her day, but she liked the idea of what had happened yesterday happening again even less. She was human and wanted her cultural outlook to remain human.

"In this meditation, you will focus your thoughts on your memories of the events in your life which have been the most important in forming the person you are today," Samara explained, her voice serene and calming. "In order to do this, you must first identify those memories." Her pale blue eyes, so noticeable because of the lightness of their color set between the darkness of her pupil and the outer darker ring of the iris, held Shepard's gaze, "Begin with the earliest memory you can recall. Meditate upon it. Determine what influence that experience has had in shaping you as an individual. Your goal will be to select a small number of memories to meditate upon that form the core of your identity." The justicar added after a short pause, "As you gain life experiences you may wish to add to those memories, so this will be a process you will need to repeat."

Shepard hesitated, should she tell Samara about the changes to her memory because of the drell neurochemicals Wilson had used now or wait until later? This would be a very old memory though; surely there was little chance she would get caught up in it.

Shepard closed her eyes, focused her attention on her earliest memories. Before that day which destroyed her happiness, her naive belief in her and her family's safety, and made her turn her back on her previous dreams of the future to chose a different path. Before Mme. Katherine LeCroix had come to train her, and before the hours of practice in the dance studio under Mrs. Barden's keen eye. Even before the day she had watched the Nutcracker Suite being performed and become entranced with the Nutcracker March and the Russian dance and decided at the age of six that she wanted to be a ballerina when she grew up. Of course, she had wanted to dance the boy's part not the girls, it looked much more fun to dance and leap and play fight. After broken vase and a trip to the medical center for stitches to her chin after forcefully colliding with the coffee table, her mother had decided to enroll her in dance class and forbidden her from dancing in the house.

Prior to that memory and the one of her sixth birthday, there were memories from even earlier in her life. Ones where she wasn't sure of how old she was, only that she was very young, maybe four or so. Amanda wasn't entirely certain they were memories of a single event. It seemed more likely that they were several similar memories that her mind had combined together into one over the course of time.

She was lying down, the bed beneath her was comfortable and the pillow underneath her head was soft. The blankets were drawn up over her legs, keeping her warm. Her room was dark except for the gentle glow of the nightlight, which was partially obscured by the dresser. Her mother was sitting beside her, rubbing her back in slow circles and singing her favorite song, her voice low and gentle. The hand rubbing her back was soothing, making her feel relaxed and sleepy. She could hear the sound of a male voice from the video screen in the living area; her father was watching the news. He had already said good night to her and kissed her on the forehead before telling her to be a good girl and go to bed. She didn't know the meaning of the words her mother was singing only that she liked the fluid, soft, sound of them. Sometimes she tried to say them to herself, but they didn't come out sounding right. That was ok; she liked hearing her mother sing them best anyway.

Amanda allowed herself to bask in the warmth of the memory for a moment, before recalling what else she was supposed to be doing during this meditation. What influence had this had on her? After a moment she knew what the answer was, everything.

Everything that defined her was ultimately rooted this idyllic moment and others like it. Rooted in her parents love for her and then, with their violent deaths, her loss of that love. Everything that had happened since she decided to join the Alliance, all of it came from her decision to turn away from her dreams of being a dancer and becoming someone who could have protected her parents, her teachers, her friends. Someone who knew how to actually fight, instead of only knowing how to pretend fight and make it look good. Someone who could have stopped the batarian's from killing her teachers, and saved her mother from them instead of causing her death.

As she had once put hours upon hours into her dancing, after joining the Alliance she had put just as much effort into being the perfect marine. And then into being the perfect Special Forces specialist, and then into trying to be the best Spectre, even though she was often confused about what that even was or what the Council actually wanted or expected of her. Protecting though, that was always her purpose no matter what titles or positions she was given. She had done her best to protect both the Council and Alliance against Saren, and then against Sovereign once she understood that the ship itself was a Reaper. And she had managed it in spite of the Council and Udina's best efforts to stop her.

Despite the speeches the Council made the day they had welcomed humanity into their ranks and despite the fact that they had solicited her opinion on who should be humanities councilor, their doubts had surfaced soon thereafter. Shepard was far from stupid, and had seen thorough their efforts to get her away from the Citadel and away from the public's eyes by sending her after the Geth. And then she had died. How convenient that must have seemed to both the Council and the Alliance in their efforts to discount her warnings.

Thanks to the Illusive Man, she now knew exactly what the Alliance and Council had said of her before and after her death. He had sent her a copy of her Alliance personnel report along with various other Alliance documents as well as copies of various Council documents shortly after her encounter with Ashley on Horizon. When his message came in, she knew he was trying to persuade her over to Cerberus's side, and had left it unacknowledged and untouched until just recently. From what some of the crew had said, such as Ken and Gabby, the two engineers, she suspected reading those documents would both anger her and leave her feeling betrayed. She had been right.

Her Alliance personnel report contained a denied personnel action; she had been passed over for promotion to Commander from her current rank of Lt. Commander a month prior to the Citadel Battle. Her loyalty to the Alliance had been called into question because of all the non-humans she had brought inboard the Normandy and given access to classified systems, and because she was a Council Spectre, even though it had been their idea in the first place. Then there were Udina's official reports on her missions, in which he called several of her decisions reckless and informed the Alliance that he and the Council were concerned she was mentally unstable as a result of her contact with the beacon. With all of the negative marks on her record since she became a Spectre, Shepard wasn't surprised that she hadn't been promoted. Reading her Alliance personnel file had left her feeling thoroughly disillusioned with the organization to which she had given her loyalty and several years of her life, but not truly surprised. Most of the officers who made it to flag rank were as much politicians as they were military. She had caught hints of such doubts about her actions almost as soon as she had brought Garrus, Wrex and Tali aboard to help her track down Saren.

The Alliance brass had even known about her involvement with Liara, though not until after the Citadel Battle. Being involved with an asari who was also the daughter of a traitor had pretty much sealed her fate. They hadn't even considered offering her a promotion after the Citadel Battle. She didn't doubt that some of the Admirals used her relationship with the asari as their basis for second guessing her decision to save the Ascension and sacrificing the Fifth Fleet ships, even though it had been the correct tactical decision given the situation and had resulted in the Alliance gaining a seat on the Council. At least she now knew how Cerberus had known about her involvement with Liara. As for after her death, at least Admiral Hackett hadn't deserted her, even though he had eventually sided with those who felt she had been deceived by Saren when no more evidence supporting her assertions that the Reapers were real had come forth. Captain Anderson, or rather Councilor Anderson, had never stopped trying to get them to listen and believe that the Reapers were real. He was the only one that continued to stand up for her, something she wouldn't forget.

Were any of the Councilors besides Anderson listening to her at all? Had Ashley managed to get the specimens to them without tipping Cerberus off? Did they believe the information and scans she had sent through William's, or had they completely discounted it like they had discounted almost everything else she had told them? 'Here there be dragons...' the old warning whispered through her mind. She couldn't do anything about the Council, they would believe or not as they chose. She needed to focus on the things she could affect. At least there was one positive thing to come out of reading her records; she had found out that Udina hadn't mentioned the rachni Queen to the Alliance. That upped her chances that Cerberus and the Illusive Man had no idea about her connection to them.

Sometimes she truly ached for the innocent trust she had as a child, that a warm, loving hug could make everything alright, that those that loved you could protect you from everything that was bad in the world. Unfortunately, she knew that neither was true, but she wished it was. Still, perhaps for just a moment she could lay down the burdens of adulthood and just remember...

Amanda surrendered herself to the memory, to being a child again with no worries, no fears, and no knowledge of the boogeyman hiding in dark space that was only too terribly real. There was only the soft sound of her mother singing, and the gentle touch of her mother's hand upon her back, so soothing and relaxing. Occasionally, her mother's hand would stroke through her hair and that felt good too. She could smell a hint of her mother's perfume in the air, a soft, delicately floral scent with warm spicy undertones. Her mother's voice softened even more as she brought the song to an end. Then Amanda felt her mother lean over her. Her mother's hand gently cupped her head and her mother's lips pressed against her hair. "I love you," her mother whispered, her voice soft and lilting, and carrying a hint of her Irish accent.

Oh Goddess.... loss and sorrow rose swiftly and suddenly within Amanda; sometimes she missed her mother so very much.

"Shepard," a calm, melodious voice with a slight hint of concern in it and the feel of a hand on her knee brought Amanda out of her memories.

She opened her eyes and looked into Samara's pale blue ones. Still slightly lost in her memory, Amanda blinked and shook her head once, trying to clear the last vestiges of it from her mind. Tears on her lashes made her realize that she was crying. "Sorry," she mumbled to the justicar, feeling rather embarrassed about the emotional display as she carefully wiped tears from her eyes and the few that were wet on her cheeks. Thankfully, she seemed to have shed only a few of them.

Samara waved it away with an elegant motion of her hand, "There is no need for an apology Shepard." The asari had a troubled look on her face, "Your memories are very vivid," Samara commented, "It is not surprising that they can affect you so strongly."

Shepard drew in a breath, "They didn't use to be that way," she confessed with a sigh. Samara's gaze focused on her questioningly. "When Cerberus got my body it was badly damaged, they knew it was going to take a long time to rebuild me," Shepard explained. "Much longer than they believed my memories could stay intact, so to stop them from degrading they flooded my neural tissues with synthesized drell neurochemicals. It's caused a permanent change in my memories and in how my mind forms new memories. For my old ones, I can now recall every memory in my mind relating to an event. It has to do with the neurochemicals having increased the long term potentiation of my neural pathways, and means that I'm now able to recall things even if there's just one pathway to the memory. As for my new memories, their drell-like, I can remember everything that's happened since I woke up. It's not quite as vivid as if what I was remembering was actually happening, but their close."

The justicar was silent for a long moment, a slight frown turning the edges of her mouth downward and her expression growing even more troubled as she considered this information. "Will the effect of these neurochemicals decrease over time?" She eventually asked.

Shepard gave the asari a wry smile, "Yes, but I'll probably be dead before they do. The Cerberus scientists that looked at Wilson's work estimated the chemicals he synthesized won't degrade enough for them to stop affecting me for over a hundred years. So effectively it's permanent. It has its pluses and minuses," she admitted. "On the plus side, it's useful and interesting to be able to remember thing like the salarian's conversation about that reproduction data yesterday. On the minus side, occasionally I can get caught up in my memories at the worst possible times. I have to be careful and make an effort not to."

"This may make your meditation more difficult," Samara stated, and it seemed to Shepard that the asari was almost speaking more to herself than to Shepard.

Shepard shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat, drawing the justicar's full attention once again. "I don't think so, that one was my fault. It's the earliest memory I have of my mother singing me to sleep." She lowered her gaze, "It's...very bittersweet for me," she admitted softly. "I let myself get caught up in it."

"That is what happened to you when you were speaking of hell week," Samara said, realization in her tone.

Shepard raised her introspective gaze from the floor to the asari and nodded, "Sometimes if I'm not paying attention it sneaks up on me. I think I've gotten pretty good at deflecting people's attention from it when it happens."

The justicar's pale blue eyes studied her, and Shepard had the disconcerting impression that Samara saw right through her. "I would agree, but the fact that you have become experienced at deflecting attention from these occurrences indicates that they happen frequently."

Shepard winced, it certainly hadn't taken Samara long to spot that. "I was planning on asking Thane for some suggestions, he has to have overcome similar issues." Then, underneath her breath, she added, "After all, he is a drell." She was doing the best that she could; after all it wasn't as if she had the faintest clue how to deal with her memories when this all began. Her efforts had all been trial and error, and for all she knew Thane would tell her she had been doing everything wrong.

Samara nodded, "He should be a valuable resource to you."

Shepard nodded, "I'm hoping so." She glanced out the window at the dark city skyline; the justicar had quite a nice view from here. She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand; maybe this was the time to bring up the prothean memories that she needed Samara's help to find. She looked back at the asari who was silently watching her. "Since we're on the topic of memories, remember when I told you that the prothean Cipher had changed?" Shepard asked. When the justicar nodded, she continued, "The drell neurochemicals have something to do with it changing, I only started being able to remember the prothean memories after I woke up. Before I died, I couldn't directly access them at all. I understood the beacon message and a spoken warning message we found on Ilos that was in prothean, but that was all."

"And the asari that transferred the Cipher to you, do you know if it is the same for her?" Samara questioned after a moment's thought.

Shepard shook her head, "No, it's not the same for her. When I spoke with Shiala just a few days ago, she told me that the Cipher is still the same for her as it was in the beginning." The justicar's eyes sharpened on her, making Shepard wonder what she could have said that had caught Samara's attention. Of course it had been a little strange running into Shiala here, though she was happy she had been able to help the asari and the Zhu's Hope colonists with their contract problem.

"The reason I brought this up was because I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to help me find the other prothean memories," Shepard continued, finally stating the reason for her bringing this topic up in the first place. "Shiala estimated there would be no more than ten which were extensive enough to match my description of what I'm experiencing, and I've only found two. When I try myself, I get caught up in them. I can't seem to remember that I'm not that person until something external reminds me that I'm not. The first time it was Dr. Chakwas calling my name, the second time it was a picture of Liara that caused me to remember that I wasn't Lindariel." Well she definitely had Samara's full attention now, Shepard noted as the asari regarded her intently. "My hope is that if it's done through a meld then I won't get caught up in the prothean memory, or if I do you can pull me out of it. I'm a bit worried that one of them will show up at a bad time and get me killed, or I'll attack someone not knowing who they are at that moment."

Samara's eyes widened briefly at her last statement. The justicar frowned, "Shiala cannot help you? She would seem to be the best choice since she is already familiar with the Cipher."

Shepard inclined her head in agreement, "I did ask her, but she and the other colonists are having some health issues due to what they suspect is trace amounts of thorian spores still in their systems. It's caused her biotics to become unstable. She didn't think she could safely meld with me."

"If her biotics are unstable and they flare while she is in a meld then both of you could be seriously injured," Samara agreed with a faint frown.

To Shepard, Samara didn't seem very pleased with the direction the conversation was going. Of course, they were still strangers, and melding wasn't something asari did lightly. "I'm sorry," Shepard apologized, feeling embarrassed, "I should have realized that it was rude of me to ask you so soon. I've done fine so far, I'm sure I can find the other prothean memories myself in the same way I have been." She uncrossed her legs, getting ready to rise and leave Samara to her meditations.

The asari reached out again, this time the hand on Shepard's knee was firm instead of gentle, and prevented her from rising. "I did not say that I would not, Shepard," Samara informed her, "but such a meld will be greatly more intrusive of your privacy than the ones yesterday. I will have to search through your memories to find the prothean ones. In the process of searching for them, I will undoubtedly witness many of your memories as well as your thoughts and feelings regarding them."

Shepard frowned, she hadn't really considered that the meld would be so... Damn it, she knew what Samara was saying, this would be closer to a union bonding than a normal meld because the asari didn't know exactly what she was looking for. "Even though we melded that once, I wouldn't say that I know Shiala well either," she said. "I just seem to be around when she needs help."

The justicar gave her a long, studying look, "You do seem to freely offer your aid to those in need," she observed.

"Well, when I can help why shouldn't I?" Shepard responded. She sighed, focusing her thoughts back upon the subject of melding. "If I concentrate, I think that I can at show you the two memories I have already found. That should give you a good starting point." Shepard met Samara's gaze, looked solemnly into those pale blue eyes. "As for anything else you might see... I trust you, both not to go randomly looking around, and to keep what you may see to yourself.

"Because I am a justicar?" Samara asked evenly, giving Shepard no hint what the asari might think of her basing her decision on that factor alone.

Shepard shook her head, "No, though that does tell me something important about you. Its different things I've noticed over the past two days." She met Samara's questioning gaze, "Your reluctance to attack the police and your effort to find a way to avoid being forced to do so, even when you thought it meant putting aside your pursuit of this Ardak-Yakshi you're trying to stop. The way you thought about the possibility of bystanders below being injured when I knocked that mercenary off the bridge. Every one of those instances told me something about you. So, no, it's not just because you are a justicar."

Samara's gaze was not questioning any longer, instead it was evaluating. After a moment the asari inclined her head, "Very well, Shepard I will assist you."

Shepard drew in a relieved breath, "When would you like to start?" She didn't want to assume anything, and the meditations probably needed to take precedence over finding more prothean memories.

"We may start now if you wish," Samara replied to Shepard's surprise. The Spectre stared at the justicar for a blank second and then, gathering her wits about her, nodded. As Shepard watched, the asari slipped her legs out of her lotus pose and gracefully rose to her feet. Samara a few steps forward to stand above her, and then sat back down on the floor opposite her. Their knees were almost touching now.

"Give me a second to drop my barriers." The last time Shepard had let someone fully into her mind it had been Liara. She drew in a breath and determinedly pushed that memory away. Those times were behind her now, and she really didn't want that to be the first thing Samara saw when the justicar entered her mind. Taking in a breath and then exhaling it slowly, Shepard consciously relaxed her mind and let her mental barriers drop. It took some effort for her not to immediately raise them again because she almost felt almost naked with them down. It was actually a little frightening how little time it had taken her to get thoroughly used to their protective presence, Shepard reflected. "Ready," she said to the asari.

"Relax Shepard, open your mind and reach out for the threads that bind us all together," Samara repeated the familiar words in a serene tone. Shepard closed her eyes, the words were almost a ritual and she did know how to do this. "We are all connected, every single being united in a single glorious existence." Shepard reached out mentally toward the justicar. "Open yourself to the universe. Embrace eternity."

Shepard was immediately aware of how different this felt from the times she had melded before. She was certain it hadn't felt this way when Liara had tried to help her make sense of the Cipher or when Shiala had transferred the Cipher to her. She was consciously aware of Samara's presence in her mind in a way she hadn't been those times before, and had to act quickly to stop herself from rather unceremoniously ejecting Samara as soon as she felt the asari enter her mind. It was something that surprised both of them. Shepard hadn't even been consciously aware of building those mental defenses.

Though on reflection perhaps it wasn't that surprising, the techniques for doing so were in Lindariel's memories along with the techniques for building the mental barrier. When she had built them for the first time yesterday, she had definitely not been at her best. She had followed along with the Elder Instructors memory like a novice cook following a recipe from a master chef, not really knowing what the end result would be, but hoping it would turn out correctly if she replicated the steps perfectly. Given what had just happened, she had obviously built both the mental barrier and the mental defenses without realizing what she was doing.

In the single day since then, she had come to understand more of what she was doing and why, but she was still following the steps laid out for her in Lindariel's memory. The Elder Instructor hadn't been teaching herself the techniques, and determining the reasons and theory behind why the prothean did what she did would take some searching though Lindariel's memories. Searching that Shepard hadn't had the time to complete yet. And Shepard now knew there was no guarantee that she would ever find them, the more she explored Lindariel's memories the more she realized there were large blocks of time missing. The Elder Instructor's memories weren't nearly as complete as she had first assumed.

Still, as interesting as the fact that she had mental defenses was, learning about them wasn't the reason why Samara was melded with her. The asari had made it clear that she didn't want to be exposed to random memories if at all possible, so she needed to try and keep them from wandering though her mind. Something that was harder than she had thought it would be, trying to concentrate upon not thinking of random thoughts actually seemed to cause more of them to appear. It was almost as if her own mind was trying to spite her.

Focus on one thing only and let it clear you mind of everything else, the thought came into her mind. Shepard couldn't immediately tell if it was Samara trying to help her or if she had accessed Lindariel's memories. Given what she had been meditating upon right before this, the first thing that came to Shepard's mind where the words to the song her mother had been singing to her. Unfortunately, it was poorly suited for the purpose of clearing her mind, as it had almost entirely the opposite effect. Amanda's understanding of the Gaelic words, which didn't necessarily agree with the actual translation, accompanied each softly sung verse. In addition, accompanying the song were fragments of memories and thoughts which her mind currently associated with the verses.

B� Thusa 'mo sh�ile a R� mh�r na nd�il

(Be my eyes, O king of creation (You who are our creator))

A dark room, her mother's singing and soothing touch. The peaceful innocence of childhood security, her mother's love.

L�on thusa mo bheatha mo ch�adfa� 's mo stuaim

(Fill my life with understanding and patience)

"I knew Neylna better than Saphyria," Shepard said gently, "but I can't think that either one of them would have wanted you to react to their loss like this."

B� thusa i m'aigne gach o�che 's gach l�

(Will you be my mind every night and every day)

"Oh," the pained sound the woman made then made it only too clear that her words had struck home, "I'm not a..." Erinya stumbled backward, "I didn't..." The raw anguish on the asari's face washed away the anger Shepard had been feeling toward her for what she was trying to do to the colonists. She watched as the asari was stopped by the barrier behind her, and then slid down to kneel upon knees and weep.

Im chodladh no im dh�iseacht, l�on m� le do ghr�

(Sleeping or awake fill me with your love)

She looked upon Neylna and Saphyria's mother full of compassion and understanding, "Though you may feel alone in your grief, never doubt that she is with you always. That she knows your heart, your pain and your loss, and that she grieves with you." The asari gave a choked cry and then Amanda's arms were full of a grieving mother.

B� thusa 'mo threor� i mbriathar 's i mbeart

(Will you be my guidance in my words and actions)

"Oh Goddess," the frightened, whispered words drew Shepard's attention as she passed a doorway, "Oh Goddess, don't let them see me. If they do see me, don't let them kill me. What am I doing here?"

Fan thusa go deo liom is coinnigh m� ceart

(Stay with me forever and keep me on the right path)

"I care," Shepard stated, staring into Garrus's eyes, "Pitne For does not deserve to get away with killing those asari simply because they were Eclipse mercenaries." she stated forcefully.

"Why?" Elnora asked her, "Why do you care about what I do?"

"And now you're here to kill me," Nassana accused her. Whose justice do I follow here, Shepard questioned herself, human or asari? Then came the quiet answer. Is it not hubris to hold human justice higher than asari justice on an asari world and for an asari?

And this commandment we have from Him (our Creator), that the one who loves God should love his brother (his creations) also.

Glac c�ram mar Athair, is �ist le mo ghu�

(As my father (and mother) take care of me and listen to my prayers)

Help me stop the Reapers. Help me stop the Illusive Man and Cerberus. You are our creator, in your eyes we are all equally your children. Thus no race should seek dominion over the others.

Is tabhair domsa �it c�na� istigh I do chro�

(And give me a place to live inside your heart)

In love and reverence I kneel before you. Before all others, I am yours.

Now her mind was silent and still, floating in a perfect place of love and being. She was part of all and yet she was also only herself. Uniqueness and Unity. Finite and Infinite. 'Remember' a voice whispered softly through her mind, almost too faint to be heard.

The feel of Samara's consciousness within in her mind drew Amanda out of her trance like state. She almost cried out at the loss of it, trying to recapture wherever she had just been, but as always, once lost, it was gone. Leaving her feeling lessened as if she had somehow just been more than she was now, and feeling a deep aching loss as if something infinitely precious had just been torn away from her.

Samara's mental presence felt like a steadying influence in her mind as she fully came back to herself from... wherever it was that she had just went in her own mind. Shepard had no idea what the justicar thought of what had just occurred, except for that moment of lent strength, the asari's emotional state was completely closed off to her. Whatever Samara's thoughts were on what had just happened, the asari was keeping them to herself. In many ways that seemed a blessing, Shepard had enough issues dealing with her own conflicted emotions and thoughts at the moment.

Wherever it was she had been, it was not unknown to her, but always before she had been there in her dreams. Dreams which, as soon as she had awakened, had dissipating like fog in the morning sunlight. Dreams that were ephemeral and easily dismissed, if only because she really didn't want to think about the troubling implications of her remembering where her soul had gone after she died. This was the clearest it had ever been, but that cleared up none of the confusion in her mind. She still didn't know quite what to think of what had just happened. Was what she had just experienced a true memory or only hallucinations brought about by the drugs Miranda and Wilson kept her sedated with during the months her body healed?

She had no delusions of being some type of messianic figure. In fact that was one thing she was absolutely certain that she was not, she was just Amanda Athene Shepard the same person... flashes of memory flowed through her mind: nightmarish orange glowing of cybernetics in the dark making her look like some type of evil cyborg straight out of a horror movie; the news of the drell neurochemicals explaining the strangeness of her memories so different from how she remembered them being; the disorienting experience of recalling her first prothean memory.

Alright, maybe she was not quite the same person she had been before she died, but she was definitely not some Goddess sent hero fated to save the galaxy. She wouldn't be getting any divine guidance, or nifty supernatural abilities, or anything else besides the four billion credit's worth of cybernetic augments and implants Cerberus had rebuilt her with and her increased biotic abilities. Of course some of that had gone into equipment, station upkeep, and staff so maybe it was just two billion credits or so worth of hardware inside her, Shepard mused, steadfastly ignoring the tiny voice in the back of her mind which still babbled to itself in disbelief over the astronomical figure. Anyway, how many credits her new body was worth aside, Shepard was quite certain that she could fail and doom not only everyone now, but all of the races to follow them to the Reapers cycle of extinction. Only a little pressure there, Amanda thought to herself sarcastically.

No, she was not some Goddess sent hero. She just was just a mortal with her duty, no matter how daunting it seemed, clear before her. Amanda did her best to ignore both the sense bitter loss and the sharp claws of anger that flexed and pricked at her insides as her entire being cried out at the loss of perfection that she sensed she had known for too short a time. And yet that same loss was also a source of solstice, comfort and strength in this existence she had woken up to find herself within once again, for she had touched and known that perfection if only for a little while. The mixture of conflicting emotions was bewildering. And to add to the chaotic mix, rising above it all was the inescapable sense that she was where she was supposed to be, and that to rebel against the fact that she was alive and mortal once again was...wrong and shameful even though she had no idea why she felt that way.

Again it was Samara's presence in her mind that reminded her of what they were supposed to be doing. Not with words, but with thoughts, the justicar asked if she wanted to continue or end this for tonight. Shepard had to admire the asari's control over her thoughts and emotions; she had no idea which of the two options Samara would prefer.

So much for focusing on something to clear her mind Shepard thought chagrined. The topic of what had happened or what might have happened while she was dead, made her feel uneasy and on edge. It was much easier and simpler to ascribe the strange memory to her months of drug induced coma and not to an actual memory of where her soul had been while she was dead. Something she had dreamed, and then not been able to wake up from so that it now seemed as if it had been real. After all, how could her brain possibly have a memory of what her soul had experienced while it wasn't even in her physical body? Yes, a drug induced dream made all the more real seeming by the drell neurochemicals flooding her neural tissues, that was all it was, Shepard decided firmly, resolutely dismissing as best she could what had just occurred.

No, she didn't want to end this; she would go directly onto remembering her prothean memories and not dally about trying to clear her mind or anything else. Samara had been curious about her biotic charge. The only reason Shepard believed she had been able to do it before becoming consciously aware of Suiadan's memories was because she had subconsciously let his memories of how to do it take over each time she charged. Now though, with his memories consciously available to her and having done it enough times herself, the technique was engrained within her own memories and body. She knew what to do and how to do it, but teaching it to someone else was another matter. The death of Suiadan's student was clear within her mind, making her hesitant to try and instruct this to anyone else without first working with a professional biotics teacher to determine how to teach it safely. Teaching Samara how to construct mental barriers the other day had been more difficult than Shepard had expected it would be, demonstrating that there was a distinct difference between remembering teaching someone, and actually teaching someone.

Shepard focused on the first memory she had recalled of Suiadan's. The sun shone brightly down upon the long green expanse of grass bordered by tall fences to prevent anyone from accidentally wandering onto the biotic practice field. Suiadan was patiently explaining once again how to focus and maintain a mass effect field of sufficient strength and shape to form a short corridor within which Senior Student Tuarwen would float, safely cushioned and very close to mass free.

She let the memory play out and then simply tried to not think of any particular thing as she had in the medical bay the day when Dr. Chakwas had asked her to focus on her prothean memories.

Lead Senior Technical Engineer Eeiathwen Tathlinde frowned as she read through the initial proposal from the Department of Musical Theory. It certainly sounded like a fascinating idea, using an alpha-theta wave mental interface to read a musical composition directly from a composer's mind and then score it using a musical matrix to determine the instruments used and the notes played as well as the correct timing. That was the first requirement, the second requirement was that the mental interface be able to play back the composition within the composers mind as if they were hearing it being played in the universities concert hall. At the same time, they wanted a display of the score to be output to a standard data station display, either as is or after it had been altered manually. Then using the alpha-theta mental interface, they wanted to be able to incorporate changes to the score as the composer mentally made them.

Eeiathwen wasn't sure the programming for such a thing was possible, but that wasn't her concern. She was just signing off on whether or not the proposal was technically feasible given their current equipment. If it wasn't, she needed to determine whether the university could purchase the needed equipment. If she could find nothing on the market that matched the specifications needed, then she would need to determine how feasible it would be for her department to fabricate the needed equipment. In that case she would forward it around to the other senior engineers before writing up her recommendation. This looked like it might fall into that third category, at least the second part of the request. The first, the input of the musical information was straight forward, and a standard interface should be able to handle it with only a little bit of fine tuning. The second alpha-theta input device however, was another issue, it needed to interact with both the user's thoughts and the musical matrix at the same time in order to accurately play back the music to the composer. That would present some interesting technical issues that would need to be overcome as well as presenting some safety concerns.

If, as she suspected, an interface matching these specification was not available, she and the other engineers would need to figure out whether or not they could design an alpha-theta interface that would do what the Music Theory Department wanted. First things first though, she needed to make sure such a thing didn't already exist. Eeiathwen was actually hoping that it didn't, because this certainly looked like a rather intriguing engineering challenge.

It wasn't until Eeiathwen had been searching the data network for a few hante that she noticed she had been using her left hand for most of the data entry instead of hunting and pecking with her right hand. She stared at her left hand, flexing the fingers and then clenching them, marveling at how well the prosthetic reacted to the nerve input. She really couldn't tell the difference between it and her real hand anymore. Except of course that she knew, Eeiathwen remembered only too clearly the stump that had been there when she woke up in the hospital. It had been over a month since the accident that had destroyed the bone and tissue of her left hand so badly that the surgeons had elected to replace it with a cybernetic prosthetic. The new hand looked exactly like her old one, and now that all the signs of her surgery had healed, she could hardly tell where her own flesh ended and the prosthetic began.

Still, it was rather strange to know that it wasn't the same hand she had been born with, no matter how real it looked, Eeiathwen couldn't quite think of it as being as real as her other hand. The therapists assured her that she would soon stop regarding the prosthetic as some foreign appendage that wasn't really her own. Right now she was still adjusting to the loss of her hand and that was part of her refusal to fully accept the cybernetic replacement. She had to adjust to a new body image they told her, and once she did that the fact that she had a prosthetic replacement hand would stop bothering her. She knew the therapist was right, she was already adjusting to it, and it wasn't as if she had lost any functionality. If anything, the new hand was better than before, she wouldn't have any more issues with hand strain after working all day.

Eeiathwen thought it would be a while longer however, before she felt entirely comfortable touching her mate with this hand. Bless him, Idhrenion had already noticed. "You are still you," he had firmly informed her, taking her new prosthetic hand in his, "and I love all of you." Eeiathwen smiled at the memory, and turned back to her data terminal, she was a lucky woman. She was alive, and with as severe as the accident had been she could have easily been more severely injured. She could have died. But she hadn't, and she had a wonderful mate who had been by her side through all of it.

Shepard, Eaithwen more thought the name than heard it, she frowned glancing around her office in confusion for the source. That wasn't a familiar word or was it a name? Amanda Athene Shepard, this time the mental call was more insistent. There was a moment of disorientation as Amanda was caught in between her memories of Eeiathwen and her own memories. The prothean cultural mindset faded and Shepard became aware that she was in a meld with Samara and that the justicar had been successful in finding another prothean memory.

Lucky woman indeed, Amanda thought as her mind cleared, feeling a surge of mingled jealousy and sorrow. She was immediately annoyed with herself, jealous of a woman who had been dead for over 50,000 years, how childish. Just let it go, Shepard told herself sternly, it wasn't like it would do her any good. She wouldn't want Liara back just because the asari pitied her anyway. Not that there was that much to pity, her body was better than ever after all, much like Eeiathwen's new hand.

She just...what was the word Eeiathwen had used? Body image. Amanda's mind latched onto the word from Eeiathwen's memory, she just had to get used to a new body image. It made sense; she had to make the mental shift from how she had perceived her body before she died to accepting a new perception of her body as it was now. It was just that she had to get used to much more than just her hand being replaced, Amanda thought, remembering the image of her original body as Cerberus had received it in Wilson's office. She had impacted with the planet's surface hard enough to completely shatter some of her bones. Then there were the burns from being caught in the explosion of the Normandy, her internal injuries, and oh yes, not to forget her favorite, a severe case of freezer burn from exposure to sub-zero temperatures while a Spectrecicle. Blackened, tenderized and frozen, she almost sounded like some ready-to-cook dish, Shepard mused grimly.

She felt Samara's startled reaction to her thoughts just before the asari withdrew from her mind. Damn it, her and her bizarre black humor. Shepard opened her eyes. If she hadn't felt Samara's dismay, she would have never guessed of it now from the justicar's calm expression. "Sorry, lousy sense of humor about it I know," Shepard apologized, feeling rather embarrassed.

The asari regarded her silently for a long moment, "I had read that humans often deal with stress by using humor as a way of diffusing it."

Shepard winced; well that was a rather clinical statement. Now if only it wasn't such an accurate one as well. "In this case what's called black or gallows humor, but yes, I guess it's my way of trying to deal with the reality that I was dead."

"Gallows humor," Samara inquired, a slight frown forming.

"Black humor done by the person affected by the subject matter," Shepard clarified. As she thought about it some more her lips twitched and she couldn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped. The justicar regarded her bemusedly. "Sorry," Shepard tried to explain, "It's just that it's normally used when death seems inevitable, such as on the way to the gallows, which was where it got its name from. I may be the first person to use it after death and to deal with not being dead anymore instead of completely the other way around." She bowed her head and shook it; it was difficult to wrap her mind around the reality of her life sometimes.

Samara reached out and touched her knee, surprising Shepard who looked up at her questioningly, "You are exceptionally strong willed Shepard and are possessed of an unwavering resolve to overcome any obstacles in your way. You will rise above these difficulties and grow stronger because of them." Samara removed her hand, laying it upon her own thigh. Yet the fact that she had reached out, had said what she had said remained.

"Thank you," Shepard actually felt rather humbled by the justicar's words and confidence in her. Samara nodded regally in response, but didn't say anything further. At a loss of what to say next, Shepard grabbed the first thing out of the air that she could think of, "Well you did locate another memory, and you pulled me out of it."

"Shepard," she could tell by Samara's tone and suddenly serious expression that she probably wasn't going to like this, "The prothean memory that I found... I had difficulty maintaining my own separateness from it at first," the justicar admitted, not looking very pleased at all with having to confess such a thing. "The closest I have ever come to experiencing anything like it was while in union with another." Their eyes met, Samara's expression was very sober, "As you informed me, you initially experience a prothean memory as if you were actually that prothean individual living their life. That is unlike any asari bonding experience," Samara stated, "we never lose sense of who we are as an individual separate from the person we are bonding or melding with."

Shepard knew that to be true from her own experiences of bonding with asari. The prothean memories were definitely different from the memories she had experienced while joining with Liara. She had always been aware that she was witnessing Liara's memories of events. With the prothean memories, it was if was as if she were actually experiencing the person's life along with them. There just wasn't that sense of separation between her and them. Finally she asked warily, "So that means what exactly for me?"

"That finding each prothean memory affects your sense of self more strongly than an asari bonding in union with another individual," Samara stated gravely. "Shepard, you're aura has shifted, not significantly, but enough that I am able to notice the difference. It is possible that as you incorporate the new memories into your own it will shift back once again," the asari offered, "but I cannot say for certain. The meditation technique I began teaching you tonight should help you maintain your sense of identity."

That was serious; Shepard reached up and rubbed her forehead for a moment thinking intently. "So I should wait and see if I can get things to settle in my mind before we try to find another one," she commented with a sigh, "And in the meantime, I should meditate every day and avoid any thoughts that might cause me to find one on my own."

"That would seem to be a prudent course of action," Samara agreed after a moment, her gaze understanding. It was not an ideal answer, but, with what they knew right now, it was the best answer there was at this moment.

Shepard nodded, that had been what she had suspected. Oh well, at least she now had three of the memories found and, in an odd coincidence, she had a new perspective on her cybernetics. Or maybe it wasn't coincidental, maybe the fact that she had been thinking about them had something to do with that being the memory Samara had found.

She looked over at the justicar who was glancing out the observation window at this particular moment, "Do you think the fact that I was thinking about my cybernetics had anything to do with you finding Eeiathwen's memory instead of another one?"

Samara turned her gaze away from view outside the window and back to her. She looked intrigued at the idea, "That is a possibility," she allowed, "but I could not say for certain at this point. Perhaps if something similar occurs again."

That was reasonable, Shepard decided. "I should leave you to your meditations," she said reluctantly, knowing that she should return to her cabin to continue her meditations and not take up any more of Samara's time. Plus if she became emotional again while remembering her past, she wouldn't make both of them uncomfortable. She still needed to decide which memories would make up the core group for her to use while meditating. After what she had just learned, that task had taken on an added urgency in her mind. As interesting and useful as the prothean memories were, she didn't want to lose her sense of who she was as an individual and as a human to them.

Before she could rise, Samara said, "Shepard, I would like to make a request of you."

"Sure," the Spectre settled back to the floor and gazed expectantly at the asari. After what she asked of Samara, Shepard was ready to agree to almost anything the justicar wanted of her unless it was completely unreasonable.

"I would like to learn Lindariel's techniques," the justicar continued, "as I mentioned yesterday, Morinth can twist the minds of those around her, it would seem to be a useful skill to learn."

"Of course," Shepard agreed after a surprised moment, "I suspect you'll pick it up easily." The more she thought about it the better an idea it seemed, "And maybe between the two of us we can figure out the theory behind it."

Normandy - Port side Observation Room

Neither the teaching nor the learning of how to create a mental barrier had proved to be as simple a lesson as Shepard had initially believed. Given the human's bemused reaction to the difficulties they had encountered, Samara suspected that Shepard hadn't realized exactly how much of an advantage the prothean memories gave her when it came to doing these activities herself. Having the memories made it as if Shepard had already completed the task or action many times before, even if this was the actual first time she had attempted it.

Still, they had made significant progress and Samara felt as if both of them were gaining a greater understanding of the techniques Lindariel used this way. Shepard had left to continue her meditations in private about thirty minutes ago. Samara had not attempted to dissuade her, the asari understood only too well the desire to keep painful memories to oneself and not display them before others.

The justicar stared out of the city; she knew she wasn't the best choice to help Shepard. She had never been good with emotional issues, one of the reason's she blamed herself for Mirala's choice to run instead of going into seclusion. She had spent too much time lecturing her eldest daughter on her responsibilities and duty after the diagnosis had been made, and too little time comforting her. It had caused her daughter to hate her. "I'm not the one who made me this way, Mother," she could still remember the angry, hurtful words Mirala had hurled at her just days before her daughter left.

She had said nothing in reply. What could she say? They were true. Mirala's dreams of the future had been even more devastatingly shattered by the news than her own dreams of enjoying her family. She had the opportunity to wander the galaxy when she was a maiden. She had fought, mated, danced and experienced so many different things before settling down. In one fell stroke that future had been taken away from her daughter, and Mirala was expected instead to live out her entire life in seclusion. Her eldest daughter had chosen to run. She had killed again, and again, and again, and eventually Samara accepted that what she had been told was true, her daughter was addicted to the rush she received from killing her mates. Mirala would never be able to stop herself. The strongest and smartest of her daughters, the wild one who had loved having fun, had turned into a monster, and it was her fault; she was responsible for her daughters being Ardat-Yakshi.

She wondered what Shepard would think when the human learned that the killer they were seeking was her own daughter. Would the Spectre understand? From Shepard's memories, she knew that the human had a very close and loving relationship with her mother before the woman had died. Those had been poignantly painful to witness, calling up memories of her daughters when they were that small and innocent. Would Shepard understand why she had become a justicar and why she was the one who bore the responsibility of stopping Mirala?

She didn't know the answer, even after the melding between them. Shepard was a study in contradictions: kind and compassionate in some circumstances, offering herself without hesitation to those in need, and in others Shepard was a ruthlessly efficient killer. The human was possessed of an almost indomitable will to succeed, and yet was vulnerable and easily hurt by those she let close to her. Kind, compassionate, ruthless, violent, impulsive, calculating, practical, idealistic, and devout, those were all words that could be used to accurately describe the Spectre. No wonder humans were said to be difficult to predict.

Samara was aware of the news reports beginning to circulate about the presence of the Spectre on Illium. Some of the news reporters had been very busy in the hours since they had left the Dantius Towers, and had found out about the Spectre's activities since Shepard had arrived on Illium. There were estimates that the Spectre was responsible for the deaths of nearly a hundred Eclipse mercenaries over the past three days. Given what she had witnessed and overheard the police officers saying, Samara was not surprised.

Now that her name was being linked to the Spectre's, all kinds of wild speculations were spreading about why a Justicar and Council Spectre were working together and why they had targeted Nassana Dantius and the Eclipse mercenaries. None of them were at all close to the truth. And to think, the Illium authorities had been concerned about the disruption a Justicar could cause, Samara thought to herself with no little amusement. And now their own unjust actions had directly led to her swearing an oath to Shepard to assist the Spectre with the human's mission, something that they were no doubt aware of by now, courtesy of Detective Anaya.

Truly though, Samara reproved herself after a moment, she had more important things to think about than the consternation of certain Illium civil authorities at the outcome of their actions. Such as the human she had sworn her oath to, and what she had learned from their meld tonight.

Samara understood that part of the reason Shepard had chosen her to confide in was simply because she was an asari, and thus the sole crew member that could help Shepard locate the prothean memories within her mind. After her experience tonight, Samara concurred that a meld was the safest way to find them. Until she had brought Shepard out of the memory, the human had experienced it exactly as though she were the prothean to whom the memory originally belonged. If one of the memories were of a prothean inclined to react violently to finding themselves in a strange place, there was indeed the very real possibility that Shepard might kill someone thinking that they meant harm to her.

It had been many centuries since Samara had allowed herself to care about anyone. Yet she found herself caring about Shepard, and wanting to aid the human through the difficulties she was facing. That was troublesome; she firmly believed that a Justicar could not afford to become too attached to anyone. Especially when there was still the possibility that some day the Code might force her to kill the Spectre, one day, no matter how eventful, was hardly enough time to conclude whether that was likely or not.

Samara felt a brief spark of anger toward the absent Liara T'Soni, who could have easily reassured Shepard that the reconstructive work that had been done to restore her body, and the physical changes resulting from them, did not make her into an inhuman cyborg. Then she chided herself, the maiden was very young, and she knew Shepard didn't want Liara to be with her out of pity. She understood that, she detested being pitied herself, having had her fill of it many centuries earlier. She had realized yesterday that Shepard was bothered by something Cerberus had done to bring her back to life. But Samara hadn't realized that Shepard's problems with what had been done to her ran so deep, or were so intimately intertwined with the human's issues surrounding her death.

The justicar didn't know what to make of the trance like state Shepard had entered either; she had never experienced anything like that before. Shepard was adamant that it was more likely a drug induced dream than an actual memory. Samara hadn't brought the subject up after the meld; she had suspected that the human would simply become more obstinate in her refusal to consider that it might be real. Her death seemed to be too emotional of a subject for Shepard to rationally deal with at the current time.

As much as she valued strength and self-reliance, Samara couldn't blame Shepard for having difficulties accepting what had happened to her. Dying and being brought back to life by a human supremacist organization willing to spend billions of credits to rebuild you. The very possibility seemed outside the realm of what was probable, and yet it had happened to Shepard.

Samara stared at the view of the city. Shepard should have had professional psychological help and time to deal with what had happened to her. Unfortunately the current situation provided neither, or at least no one that Shepard would trust. She, Garrus and Tali would have to suffice to provide the support Shepard needed while dealing with the fact that she had died and then been brought back to life, as well as dealing with the fact that due to the damage done to it, her body was not the same as it had been before her death.

An asari, turian and quarian, Samara mused, Shepard had made interesting choices of whom to befriend, both on this ship and on her last, especially considering that both times the majority of the crew had been human.

Continued...