Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time she met SAM, he was only a little more than a hyper-competent VI. “Hey, Dad? Dad? You in here?” She was back on her first leave; she’d already seen Mom upstairs in the kitchen, fiddling with the new coffee-maker.

“Hello. You must be Harumi Ryder.”

She jumped. “Whoooo said that?”

The little holographic ball of code on the desk swirled. “I did. Hello. I am SAM: Simulated Adaptive Matrix. Pleased to meet you.”

“Uh… pleased to meet you too, uh, SAM. …What are you, Dad’s new VI?” It sounded a lot like Jarvis from Iron Man.

“I am an AI.”

She paused, frowned at the codeball.

“I am aware AI are illegal in Citadel space. However, you are Alec Ryder’s daughter. You are trustworthy. Otherwise I would not be operational in your presence.”

Thanks, Dad, she guessed. “Where’s Dad?”

“Your father will return soon. I do not know when. He did not specify.”

“Okay.” She plopped herself down in the computer chair in front of the hologram. Illegal or not, she was curious. “How long have you been… around?”

“I have been active for three months, twelve days, six hours, and forty-two minutes.”

“Uh… why is he building you?”

“Unknown.”

Suspicious, or just discreet? “He has to have a purpose. He wouldn’t break every law in Citadel space just for funzies.” She knew her dad that well, at least.

“What is ‘funzies’?”

“Fun, but cuter.” The AI – SAM, she should probably use its name – was kind of cute itself, she decided, curious and innocent. Was that a dangerous anthropomorphization of a robot? She couldn’t know what it was thinking for real.

“Would you tell me about yourself, Harumi?”

“Sure, I guess.” Dad hadn’t told it all about her? “I’m a soldier in the Alliance military, assigned to Prothean ruins mostly. Keep the eggheads safe while they’re doing… stuff. I’m back on leave.”

“What is Prothean?”

“Uh, some kind of ancient civilization who lived in this galaxy before us. They disappeared a long time ago, though.” She tilted her head. “You couldn’t just look that up?”

“I am not permitted to access the extranet yet.”

She smiled understandingly. Could it even read facial expressions? “Right, probably a good idea. There’s a lot of garbage on the extranet, and until you’re good at sorting what’s useful and what’s not…”

“How do you sort what is useful and what is not?”

“Huh, good question. Umm… you have to check your sources, corroborate with primary sources if possible. There’s a lot of idiots out in the galaxy who’ll just repeat anything they hear, so false facts circulate fast and wide, but you can usually get the truth if you dig far enough.” She frowned again. “Should I even be telling you this?” She might teach him bad things.

“He needs to start interacting with people other than me and Ellen,” Alec Ryder said, coming in through the other door. “…Hello, Harumi.”

“…Dad.”

“Welcome back, Alec,” the AI said.

“Hello, SAM! Having fun?”

“I have learned that your daughter is 172 cm tall and 62 kg, I have learned the word ‘funzies’, and of the existence of ‘Prothean’.”

Alec laughed as Harumi pouted fiercely. The thing could tell how much she weighed? That weight was muscle, dammit! “I don’t recommend using the word ‘funzies’ in formal conversation, SAM,” was all Dad said.

“Understood.”

“I’m going upstairs to help Mom,” Harumi said, stomping away. Maybe her mom could explain things so that she understood them, because she really didn’t want to talk to Dad while he was obsessed with his new project. He was just going to get them all in trouble.

She didn’t remember much from being clinically brain-dead. Didn’t remember if it had been painful. She remembered choking, looking up pleadingly at her dad’s grim, determined face… nothing after that. She hadn’t heard his last words to her. She’d expected to die, but she hadn’t been conscious for it.

Waking up was slow and foggy and unexpected. And things didn’t feel quite right, but she couldn’t say why or how, only that they were. She didn’t feel like herself.

“Welcome back, Harumi.”

She pushed herself to something resembling sitting in her hospital bed. Things were dark, darker than the med bay should have been – why was she in SAM Node? “What happened?”

“You were clinically dead for twenty-two seconds.” SAM’s voice sounded different, somehow. Same timbre, same English accent, same detached tone, but… different. She wasn’t together enough to put her finger on what exactly.

The team hurried in at Liam’s call, and she got the news. Dad was dead. She’d hoped with her last consciousness, her last thought… she’d thought he might find some way to pull through, like he always did…

What a mess of feelings, too many to hold and sort through – not in front of everyone. “What are we doing in SAM Node?”

“SAM is now part of you… in a way we don’t entirely understand,” Lexi said.

She blinked blankly. “SAM?” She didn’t understand – a part of her? How could an AI be part of a human? She didn’t even know where she wanted the explanation to start.

“Your father authorized the transfer of Pathfinder authority to you.” SAM’s voice sounded normal, now, coming through the room’s speakers.

Wait, what? “Shouldn’t that be Cora?”

Apparently the universe was hell-bent on her being Pathfinder now. “It’s all academic anyway,” Lexi said, cutting short her objections as to her fitness for Pathfinder duty and Liam’s reassurances. “SAM’s linked to your mind on a deeper level now. Trying to untangle it… could kill you.”

Then Cora took charge, thank goodness – making plans for what came next. She really didn’t feel up to it right now. She needed time to process, time to think – SAM was in her head? Was that why he had sounded different? Was that why she didn’t feel quite right? Or was it simply the effects of being recently clinically dead? Come to think of it, if she’d been dead, how come she didn’t feel worse?

She was grateful for Liam’s report on her brother. At least someone in her family was all right, sort of. She’d technically died, Haruto was stuck in a coma, and Dad was actually dead. Was it selfish to feel her family had got the short end of the stick coming here?

“Your father will be missed.”

His voice was different again. Not coming through the speakers. “What’s going on, SAM?”

“This is our private channel. I shared it with him.”

“Why’d he do it? Why me?”

“Unknown. But he never acted without reason. Alec wouldn’t want us to lose sight of the goal. He said pain emboldens our resolve. He’d insist we grow stronger from his passing.”

She flopped back down on her medical cot. Grow stronger? She didn’t feel very strong at that moment. Dad was dead, she was the new Pathfinder, all of humanity in Heleus was relying on her now, the ‘golden world’ was garbage, and now she had an AI in her head. No, she couldn’t think of him as just an AI. SAM was SAM… though she still wasn’t sure she was comfortable with him being in her head. Probably reading her thoughts. If he was, he wouldn’t judge her like another human would, but she still didn’t like the idea. And she might influence him in a bad way.

SAM didn’t answer. Maybe he couldn’t read her mind after all. In any case, she needed time to think. Dad’s words, passed through SAM, were no comfort. It was just like him to say something like that, when the problem was that he was gone in the first place. She wanted him back. Even if they’d had a terrible relationship. A terrible relationship was better than none.

SAM was part of her now. She didn’t know him that well. Hopefully she’d be a good partner. He was keeping her alive now.

Her cabin on the Tempest was gigantic. She hated it as soon as she walked in, an empty open-plan space the size of the conference room upstairs. Everyone else got just a bunk and a locker, it wasn’t fair to them. Historical precedent be damned. She sighed and dumped her duffel on her bed. She had another locker full of more personal possessions, back on the Hyperion, only to be unpacked once she’d picked a home planet and established a residence there. It wasn’t like she really needed her favourite mug just yet, or her autographed still of Shalei from Fleet and Flotilla, or her Little Black Dress that made her legs look amazing, thanks. She had the important things – her comfortable, casual clothes, her music collection, her twelve-sided Rubix cube. And… huh.

She’d stuffed her clothes into the dresser, shoved her bathroom kit onto a shelf, and regarded the next thing in her bag with some trepidation. “Guess I don’t really need this,” she said, mostly to herself, but loud enough it could be conversational.

“Why not?” SAM asked.

“Well… umm…” She blushed and decided she didn’t want to even look at it anymore.

“It is natural for organic life to seek pleasure. I do not pass judgement on such things. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can give you privacy.”

She made incoherent noises for a minute. “Well – that’s – uh – SAM!” He waited for her to figure out what she was trying to say. “I mean, you can be… quiet and not interrupt, but I know you’re still there. You can’t not be.” Apparently she’d die without him. Geez, it almost sounded romantic when put like that.

“That is correct. However, you should not disrupt your private life because of me.”

“Ain’t gonna happen. I’m never masturbating again, with the dildo or without it. I know you don’t judge, and it doesn’t matter, I’m super uncomfortable about it.” Going to the bathroom, fine. Taking showers, fine. Shoving silicone up her nether regions… not fine.

“Then I will not offer to enhance your experience.”

“SAM!” Her indignant squeak was a few octaves higher than usual, and her face was red as an chili pepper. She rolled up the duffel, empty except for the dildo, and shoved it into a cupboard hastily, kicking the latch closed. She covered her face with her hands and made confused, frustrated noises. “Argh. The worst part is, I’m curious now.”

“Why is that a bad thing?”

It occurred to her that SAM might be curious, too. Well, he could do without this part of his education. “I don’t want to turn into some weird pervert. Look, your purpose in Andromeda is to help the Pathfinders pathfind, right, not to help the Pathfinders get off.”

“Your father-”

“OH MY GOD I don’t want to know about my dad!!” Or her mom, for that matter – they’d both had SAM plugged into them at one point or another. No, it was still painful to think about mom. Either way, she didn’t want to know about them, either by themselves or each other, except she was also curious as to how much ‘experience’ SAM had – bad topic! Bad topic! She shook her head violently, trying to clear it.

“I was going to say, your father gave me purpose. Whatever you do is my purpose. While you should never lose sight of the larger picture and your true goals, taking care of the biological functions in your life is also important and you should not allow me to interfere with that.” When she pouted, he added: “You are still your own person.”

She sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll consider it. Sometime. Give me time to get used to the idea, because I’m always going to feel funny about it while you’re around.”

“Of course.”

Working with SAM in the field… once she started getting the hang of it, was liberating. She’d been pretty good with her biotics before, her reflexes, her aim – couldn’t be a good explorer without being fit and competent at surviving whatever was out there. But while his input wasn’t obtrusive, everything was so much sharper and easier now. She felt superheroic compared to how she’d been before.

Combat happened all too frequently for her taste. She’d had to shoot and kill a bare handful of times while she served with the Alliance – her body-count had already doubled just on Habitat 7, and now she was beginning to lose track. She was becoming steeled to it, sighting down her sniper scope for the next kett head, locking them in a singularity and then tearing them apart with a lob of biotic power. It was them or the kett, and she would do her damnedest to keep her team alive. Not that they really needed her help. Cora was amazing, leaping impossibly fast through the air, Vetra was a crack shot, and Liam had a keen eye for setting up a cross-fire.

And SAM was with her through it all, steadying her hands, calming her heart, feeling the world through her skin.

After the incredible, impossible underground vault and the frantic deadly chase that concluded it, with the atmosphere clearing and the new colony staked out and the Nexus swooping in to start anew, she returned to the Tempest and went straight to the shower. She would have fallen asleep there, but the water turning off at the end of the timer woke her up and sent her, shivering slightly in her thin off-duty clothes, to burrow into her bed, a towel wrapped around her electric-blue-with-black-roots hair. It had been meant to be her dad’s bed. It still bothered her. The room was too big, too open, bigger than the apartment she’d lived in when she was off assignment with the Alliance. She was used to a room the size of the ship’s mess at most. Everything in it was shiny, new, too good for her.

At least she had company, and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders before she shuffled off to the office chair by the hologram/router. “Hey, SAM.” She didn’t have to, but it was nice to talk to a… presence, you couldn’t call the swirling holographic code-brain a face, but it was a visual presence. And it was polite to address someone to their presence, wasn’t it?

“Hello, Harumi.”

“So what did you think of today?” she asked. “Of Eos in general?”

“Eos has been a lesson in contrast. Alec Ryder rarely endured doubt. His accomplishments were taken for granted. But you succeeded on Eos despite doubt and fear. Emotionally, the difference is like catching a ball verses catching a star. You have grown as a result, and so have I.”

“Yeah, Dad was never a really emotional guy. I can’t help being really emotional. It’s probably one reason we weren’t that close. Catching a star, huh? That big of a difference?” She tried to imagine actually catching a star. It wasn’t pretty. But poetic. Especially compared to catching a ball – SAM must have gotten some pretty intense sensations from her system.

“Yes.”

“It’s probably partly because I’m so young and inexperienced, too. Give me a few decades and I won’t bat an eyelash either.” SAM was young and inexperienced, but he learned a lot faster than she did. One example, one experience, and he’d nail a situation forever and accurately extrapolate countless others from it.

“Perhaps. But you are more open with your feelings than Alec was at age 22. Additionally, sociological forces may be at work. Male humans in many cultures are discouraged from showing much emotion, and female humans are conversely encouraged to express their emotion.”

“That makes sense. Though as an individual, my dad was just bad at it anyway.”

“Yes.”

“Different topic: is it confusing to be in multiple places, talking to multiple people?” She’d seen his development, she’d had all that time to get to know him, as a person and as a marvel of technology, and she hadn’t. Better late than never!

“My awareness can be partitioned, so I can give you the same attention as, say, a SAM Node technician.” That sounded like a lot of attention to her, though she wondered if he was talking to a SAM Node tech now. “In the field, you are my primary focus, and all other requests are queued. In the vernacular, you have my undivided attention.”

She felt her skin warm at the thought, and couldn’t help smiling. She knew it was because manipulating an organic body was ridiculously complicated and needed all the processing power he had, but the way he phrased it… It was sweet. Another emotional response for him to catalogue. “Aww, thanks, SAM.”

Was it just her imagination, or was the code swirling slightly faster? Nah, it was her imagination. Any reaction he might have would be over in nanoseconds. “You are welcome. Although the arrangement is in both of our best interests.”

“I know. Speaking of working together, you might have noticed I like to joke around sometimes. Lighten things up. How’s your sense of humour, SAM?”

“Alec Ryder encouraged me to develop this skill.”

“Humour’s not a skill, it’s… Okay, try telling me a joke.”

“A neutron enters a bar and asks: “How much is a drink?” The bartender replies: “For you, no charge.””

She snorted. “Better keep working on it. Any others?”

“Why don’t thresher maws eat comedians? Because they taste funny.”

She snorted again, then suddenly burst out into peals of giggles. “Oh my god, that one’s so bad it’s good.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“I’m not sure I can explain, it just is. And maybe a lot of people would disagree and say it’s just bad. But I liked it.”

“I will continue to learn. Perhaps observing you will assist me.”

“I dunno, my humour’s pretty bad sometimes too. And sometimes I can talk silly without making actual jokes… Oh! You know what you said recently that’s like that?”

“I do not.”

“When we were looking for a way to open the door, and you were giving me the technical explanation, and I said ‘Just say “We can’t open it without codes”’ and then you said ‘We can’t open it without codes’.”

Code swirled. “I noted you found my reiteration of your words amusing, but I did not know why.”

“I guess it could have been taken as sarcastic? And I like sarcasm. If you’d just said ‘okay’ it wouldn’t have been funny.”

“I see.”

“I’d ask about your opinion on the human experience, ’cause I haven’t yet, but I…” she yawned and stood, heading back to the bed. “I really need to sleep.”

“Good night, Harumi.”

“Night, SAM.”

“Welcome back, Harumi.” His voice was almost precisely the same as when he spoke to anyone else, dispassionately courteous. SAM wasn’t an expressive AI, had no idea how to even fake feelings. Dad had built him, after all. But it seemed to her that his voice was just a tiny bit warmer when greeting her, and she certainly felt warmer when greeted by her… friend. He didn’t need to greet her for coming to visit his physical location, really. He was connected to her brain, there was nothing technically different about being physically near him. But it was nice.

“Hi! I came to drop off Dr. Aridani’s equations.” She waved the OSD at him.

“I am ready,” SAM answered.

“Transferring them now. Have fun.” She popped the OSD into the appropriate slot and turned to sit – he might get through them almost instantaneously, or he might need a while – if it was a long while, surely he’d let her know and she’d go grab a snack or something.

A burst of static erupted from the speakers, and SAM’s holo projection began to flicker alarmingly. “What the- SAM?”

“Malicious code detected. Please stand by.” SAM’s voice was even more robotic, less inflected than usual, and nearly buried under hissing static. An alarm was going off, incongruously melodious and yet terrifying.

“SAM?” She didn’t want to distract him, but this was worrying her… The tablet screens were blank, nothing to help her. She could feel something wrong in the back of her head, not focused around her implant but a general weird tingly feeling, suddenly turning numb. She was so confused, so afraid for him, and it was suddenly hard to think properly, but she couldn’t distract him…

“Attempting to countermand malicious code. Please stand by.”

Her heart was pounding, she was covered in cold sweat, every second seemed like an eternity. “Is there anything I can do?” She saw flickers in the air, an illusory figure manipulating the blank tablets. Her optical implants were… projecting images? “Is that another malfunction, or… SAM? You trying to show me something?”

SAM didn’t answer, undoubtedly fighting the virus with all of his resources, none left to vocalize. She flung herself at the first console, using her omnitool to reboot the server it was connected to – and the second, and the third – the alarm braying in her ears, the numbness in the back of her head heavy and ominous.

It was done. “SAM, talk to me!” She sounded desperate, breathing fast and frightened. Fight it, SAM!

The static was suddenly gone. “Hello, Pathfinder. Please initialize the console to restore normal operations.”

Oh thank god. And her head was suddenly normal, too, the strange feelings gone as if they’d never been. “SAM, what happened?”

“The equations contained a Trojan horse program. Specifically targeted to sever our connection and render me helpless. Reconnecting would be impossible.”

Impossible, because according to Lexi, she would be dead. And maybe SAM too. Or maybe a more mundane explanation, like even if she survived, the QEC in the implant would be broken? No, if she couldn’t be disconnected from SAM without killing her, she’d be dead. She felt a cold shiver go down her back. She’d felt strange, wrong, stupid with even that partial interference in her head. “How do you feel? Are you okay? Did it hurt?”

“I cannot feel pain. However, I would avoid repeating the experience, which is the purpose of pain in organic life.”

She felt furious – and sick. Someone had tried to hurt her friend – hurt them both. She was going to find out why, and then hurt them back. No one did that to SAM.

Funny, she hadn’t felt nearly this protective of him before he’d been attacked, but now all caution had been thrown to the wind. Guess that old human pack-instinct was kicking in.

Instinct or not, she welcomed it. Her hands balled into fists. “Unlock the door, SAM. We’re getting some answers.”

“Harumi, can I help you?”

She swallowed hard, keeping her head high, her lips pressed firmly together, jaw clenched, blinking rapidly as she marched hastily through the Nexus. She was still unable to stop the heat from flushing all over her face, all over her body. She couldn’t talk just now, not without losing control of everything, and if SAM could read her thoughts, she couldn’t form a coherent one other than ‘get to the bathroom ASAP’. In boot camp she’d used it frequently, as well as other escapes. Seemed like a precision strike still warranted its use. She’d always been a terrible soldier, anyway.

“Harumi, your stress levels are extremely high.”

Change of plan. The bathroom was too public. She wanted to talk it out, with the person she trusted most. Normally that might have been her brother, but he was in a coma and she knew a guy who was very good at listening.

She piled onto the tram with a few technicians, sitting as far away from everyone else as she could manage, hoping they wouldn’t recognize her and come talk to her. When it stopped at the Hyperion’s habitation quarters, she hopped out and jogged through the atrium until she burst through the door she so desperately wanted to reach.

“Welcome back, Harumi. Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, and that released a whole wave of tension, a tear spilling out already. “No. I need a minute to cry first.”

“Your stress levels are higher than your last combat encounter.”

She snorted a laugh through crumpled face and flowing tears. “Wouldn’t think Addison was a combat encounter.”

“It is common for human physiology to react to negative social situations with a similar ‘fight or flight’ instinct.”

“Negative social situations. Right.” Oh god, what a negative social situation. So that was what shame and injured pride was called.

When she was done, she wiped her eyes on her sleeves, sniffled mightily, and sat back against SAM’s console with a sigh. “Ugh.”

“How do you feel? Your heart-rate has stabilized, though your neurological activity and cortisol levels remain elevated.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling a little better.” She sighed yet again. “I get it, you know? She’s been super stressed out for over a year, everything is going shit, the experienced, competent human Pathfinder died and she’s stuck with a complete noob who goes and cries when someone yells at her, but on the other hand, I just wanted to ask a question.”

“Director Addison was wrong to speak so harshly. Your responsibilities are great enough without adding emotional distress. Her responsibilities are also many, but aiding you would only improve the situation for you both.”

“A really simple question, I just wanted to see if Dr. Lito could come back out of stasis. She could have just said ‘talk to Brecka’. And she didn’t have to say it like that.” Like a bitch, she thought, but that was uncharitable. More like what she actually wanted to say to Harumi was something like ‘if you mess up anything, we will all die and I will personally hate you forever, if I don’t already, you stupid little girl’. Which was actually how she said almost everything to Harumi. No pressure or anything. Stupid little girl. And if I complain that it’s not fair, that makes me even more of a stupid little girl who can’t be trusted to do anything. She felt more of a cry coming back on. Drill sergeants could make it sound personal, but they didn’t actually mean it personally. Not like Addison did. “Ugh, what’s wrong with me?”

“Harumi, your heart-rate is increasing rapidly. Please try to remain calm. There is nothing ‘wrong’ with you. You are well within acceptable parameters for human mental and physical norms.”

“Yeah, well, I bet she is too. Just stressed out.”

“But she is actively encouraging you to fail, which is against her best interest. It ought to make her more stressed. I do not understand.”

“Well, not everyone has perfect control like you do, SAM.” She grimaced. “I wish I did. I’m such a pathetic, useless crybaby-”

“Harumi.” She glanced towards the hologram curiously. SAM almost never interrupted unless it was an emergency. Either it was an emergency, or he’d developed something resembling a human mannerism. “You have been Pathfinder for 543 hours and 49 minutes. In that time your major accomplishments include taking command of the Tempest and her diverse crew, negotiating environmental extremes on Eos and Havarl, experiencing combat 87 times, successfully initiating diplomatic proceedings with the angara, activating two Remnant Vaults, and establishing a working outpost. This is in spite of the fact that you were not prepared to become Pathfinder and the connection was disruptive. The connection’s efficiency remains well below peak capacity even now, though it has improved. It is impossible to say with absolute certainty, but few others could have accomplished these achievements.”

“When you put it that way…” She managed a little smile. “Getting yelled at doesn’t seem so important. I’ll try not to repeat it, of course.” The purpose of pain in organic life, huh? “Gotta keep doing what I’m good at, which is the thing I’m here for, exploring Heleus.”

“I concur.”

“Although I didn’t accomplish all those things alone. Without the team, and especially without you, it would be impossible. I mean, just as one example, you got us out of that kett ambush like nobody’s business.”

“I was created to make this task possible. Thank you.”

“Hey, SAM, thanks for the pep talk. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“It is good you are recovered. I was about to use humour. It has appeared to distract you in the past.”

“Oh yeah? I want to hear it anyway.”

“What sort of vehicles do asari drive?”

“Mmm, what?”

“Justicars.”

She giggle-snorted. “I approve. But yeah, last resort.” She stood and stretched. “I should get back to it. Duty calls and all that.”

Just before she reached the door, she turned to look at the hologram. “This is all confidential, right, SAM? It would be bad for… morale, and stuff, if anyone knew I was complaining about Addison. If anyone knew I cried about it.” Although a lot of people already bitched, she wouldn’t be the first. But she of all people couldn’t show strain or conflict.

“Of course, Harumi.”

“Hey, SAM, I was wondering,” she said one evening, back in her cabin, “what do you think about art?”

“Your father ensured that I studied art from all periods of human history; I have also investigated art from asari and turian culture.”

“Yeah, but what do you think?”

“I am not sure I understand the question.”

“Is it weird that organics spend so many resources on such useless endeavours?”

“Art is not useless,” SAM chided her. “It depends, of course, on the definition of art, and the purpose of the artwork. Art may be characterized in terms of mimesis, narrative, expression, communication of emotion, or other qualities. Generally some creative force or ideal must be present for organics to consider something as art. It is a unique feature of sapient organic life, a sign of their identity, their philosophies on the universe. Therefore, it is not useless.”

She blinked for a bit. “Sounds like you’ve thought a lot about it.”

“I occasionally consider topics outside of our immediate necessities, and art is an endlessly fascinating subject.”

“I feel this rabbit hole might be deeper than I’m capable of going right now,” she said, giggling a little self-consciously. “I don’t really think about art too much beyond ‘is it pretty’ and ‘is it thought-provoking’, which I guess is a little bit of what you were talking about?”

“Yes. It is not a failing on your part. Your preferences are part of your personality, art included.”

“Oh, good. But you sound interested in it, so if you ever want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.”

“Thank you. Actually, perhaps you might be interested in some of the visual or aural art I have attempted.”

“You did art? Of course you did art.”

“Your father encouraged me to put my studies into action, if only briefly.”

“I wanna see.”

“Certainly.” A series of geometric images filled her screen, progressively becoming more complex and using – even to her ignorant eye – a more sophisticated control of colour. “These are a sample of my earliest works.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Harumi said. “How did you come up with them?”

“At first I did not know what to do; many programs already exist solely for the purpose of generating images and I did not know how to make new, original, meaningful images. Nor do I have an organic being’s aesthetic sense, which is necessary to judge potential emotional responses. However, Alec reminded me that intention is the most important part of the creative process, that every decision made in creation must have a reason behind it, no matter how trivial the decision or the reason.”

“So what did you intend with these pictures?”

“I decided to explore static, two-dimensional visual representations of time.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” She squinted. “I might need an art degree to understand it. But I will admit it’s freakin’ cool. I like looking at it.”

“Thank you. In the process, I discovered I have a mild preference for yellow circles. I do not know why.”

She giggled. “Interesting. I’ll remember that.”

“For some of these I borrowed colours from Salvador Dali’s The Persistence of Memory, as a thematic reference.”

“Neat. What else have you done?”

More images flickered across her screen, an oil painting of a winter landscape, a series of Arabic-looking geometric patterns, a series of disturbingly altered photographs of the Grand Canyon. “I feel that my understanding of aesthetics has improved since the last time I attempted to create visual art. I would like to make some more.”

“Traveling with the hyper, wildly-emotional girl’s helped you feel more organic responses to visual stimuli?” she teased.

“Yes,” SAM said simply. “You react particularly strongly to wilderness landscapes and Remnant technology. A moment.” A few seconds later, a new image popped up on her screen, of a desert at night – but the desert was defined by teal threads, just like the Remnant structures.

“Oooh, pretty,” was her immediate response. “You just made that? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“I think a lot of artists would be jealous of your speed and accuracy. Just imagine it and it appears,” Harumi said. “Well, I really like that! I’m going to set that as my new desktop wallpaper. Thanks, SAM!” She smiled broadly. A personalized image made for her by SAM! That was just the coolest thing.

“You are welcome.”

She stretched. “I’d ask about the… what did you call it? Aural art?”

“You might call it music, or soundscapes.”

“Music, then. But I’m getting sleepy and this philosophy’s bending my brain.”

“That is all right. Please rest. We can discuss these topics at greater length later.”

“Sounds nice. Good night, SAM.”

“Good night, Harumi.”

She found out later he liked Bach and Stravinsky. What old-fashioned music to listen to.

She walked into the little shed, glanced around. “Reyes should be here.”

“I detect no sign of Mr. Vidal, Pathfinder. Shall we proceed without him?”

He had said he’d be there, and she found her disappointment at his absence greater than she had expected. “That’s not-”

The inner door slid open and a bunch of armoured angara rushed out. Roekaar. “Don’t move!” the leader hissed.

“Were we too loud?” Harumi joked.

“Shut up,” the Roekaar said, and gestured with his gun that she and her squad go before him into the cave beyond the door.

They were met by a blue-green angara. “I don’t need to tell you what happens next,” she said, looking them up and down.

Then why offer words at all? Harumi thought. “You’re going to try to kill me and my friends. I’ve got a few questions first.”

“No. You’ll bleed. Just like the others.”

Well, that got shut down. Not that she’d expected more. Things escalated, the angara drew one of those ceremonial knives, Harumi tried futilely to convince her that people didn’t have to die over this.

“I’m not Sloane,” Harumi said.

“You are all the same,” the angara cried, and lunged.

A gunshot rang out, and the knife flipped away from her hand. The angara clutched her hand with a cry of pain, and the Roekaar around them all lunged forward, guns raised.

“Not so fast!” came a familiar baritone cry, and running footsteps down the inner stairs.

“You’re late!” Harumi yelled, grabbing her gun from a startled Roekaar and diving for cover, Jaal and Vetra behind her.

“Don’t just stand there!” yelled the angara woman. “Kill them!”

She found herself behind a crate with a grinning Reyes clutching a modified kett rifle. “I’ve got a good reason. You’ll see in three… two… one…”

Half the cave exploded. Okay, how the hell had he set that up? “Still mad?” he asked sweetly, grinning up at her.

She couldn’t help a skeptical grin back, heart thumping with something a little more than battle adrenaline, and then the shooting began in earnest.

With the cave empty of hostiles, they began to head back to the outside, Jaal and Vetra first to clear for ambushers. “You did good, Ryder. Don’t worry,” Reyes said to her, soothingly, “I’ll let all the important people know who to thank.”

She snorted, but couldn’t help a smile. “We make a good team.” Could she coax him onto the Tempest, like Peebee and Drak?

He made as if to pass her in the narrow corridor, stopping just beside her – if she wasn’t wearing armour, she’d probably feel the heat of his body. “Careful, I’ll start thinking you like me.”

Damn, that smooth Spanish accent was sliding over her skin even under the armour, increasing her heart rate. And his haircut might have been horrendous but he had beautiful eyes, beautiful lips. She opened her mouth, to tell him, hey, maybe she did like him, and was that so bad?

“Harumi,” SAM said in her head suddenly. She nearly jumped, managed to settle for a blink. “I do not believe this is a wise course of action.”

Oh, they were going to have words later. In the meantime, she had to say something. “See you back at Tartarus?”

“Don’t be a stranger, Pathfinder,” and he left with another wink.

“Okay SAM, so what was that all about?” she demanded, heading away from her team for a moment of privacy.

“I apologize for speaking out of turn. Mr. Vidal may be trustworthy regarding the Resistance. However, beyond that, I believe your actions are placing your emotions in danger.”

She blinked. “You think he’s a playboy and he’s going to break my heart.”

“Yes.”

She grinned. “I’d almost think you were jealous, SAM.” She… found she liked the idea, and not just because it might be a sign of his development to show such a complex emotion.

“Harumi.” A mild reproof to her joking around. “I cannot be jealous. I know it is not appropriate for me to attempt to influence your actions beyond your duties as Pathfinder. I also know you are strongly physically attracted to him. But I do not want you to get hurt in this way.”

So it was okay to risk her life, to court failure both physical and emotional in a thousand other different ways, but not okay to risk heartbreak? So obvious that her dad had programmed him. “SAM…”

“I am still learning about emotional attachments. What I have studied suggests that romantic disappointment can cause great psychological damage.”

She was quiet a minute. “Romantic fulfillment can lead to great happiness, too.”

“Do you believe you will find that with Mr. Vidal?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “No one ever knows. Sometimes the most normal-seeming guys end up being jerks. And sometimes someone who seems like an asshole ends up caring about the things that are truly important. Not that I would know, so far they’ve all been actual assholes.”

“I should not have said anything. I acted on incomplete information.”

“You can do that?” she teased. “Hey – I forgive you for being worried about me. And maybe I should be more cautious around him. Shouldn’t just flirt recklessly because he’s sexy and seems interested.” Seemed interested? He’d practically kissed her in that corridor.

“Please disregard my advice. Act as you see fit.”

“No, no, it’s good advice. Most friends would offer that advice. If Cora finds out, you can bet she’ll be telling me the exact same things.” She descended into thought. Reyes was incredibly interesting, and was definitely interested in her, even if casually. But she was… waiting, wasn’t she? There was someone else she wanted to see where things went, even if it took a long time. Reyes would be quick and easy, their potential flame might burn hot and fast, but was it worth it?

Not this time, she decided. “Yeah, don’t worry about Reyes, SAM. And thanks for reminding me what’s really important.”

“I do not understand, but you are welcome.”

She touched herself that night, and SAM said nothing, and it wasn’t completely awkward for her the next day. Progress?

“SAM,” Knight spat. “Such a human name.”

“I’ve been looking you up,” Harumi said. “I understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. But I can’t let you follow through.”

“Of course not,” Knight said. “It controls you now.”

Harumi shook her head slowly. “No, he really doesn’t. Look, I’m not going to tell you that this time things will be different. You won’t believe me. But besides the fact that yes, Nexus Control really does need those computers, things are already different. SAM would never hurt me. I trust him.”

“You sound like you’re in love. And to think I let you near my son…”

“Your son is fine,” Harumi said gently, trying not to let a blush rise to her face. Wondering how SAM would interpret the internal involuntary reactions, and if they’d have an awkward conversation later. “We came up with a fix for his implants. He doesn’t have to use it, if you don’t trust it, but if he does, he will recover.”

Knight stopped and stared wide-eyed. “Wait… you… helped Alain?”

“Honestly, it was SAM’s idea. I don’t know much about implants, that was Mom’s expertise. But it will work.”

Knight’s shoulders sagged. “Here. Take it – the last device. If what you say is true…”

“Nexus security will arrest you,” Harumi said. “But if you’d like… SAM and I can come visit you? You can get to know us a little better, as separate people. Would you like that?”

“Why would you do that for me?” Knight asked. “It would seem I’ve only ever been your enemy.”

“It’s true when you first tried to pull the plug on our connection, I was angry – furious, even. You tried to hurt my best friend, not to mention me, even if that wasn’t your intention to hurt me, though if you’d succeeded… I’d have died. Sure, at the time I wanted to hurt you back. But getting to know you… I don’t think you’re a bad person. You just didn’t know, and you were trying to protect the people close to you. Like I try to protect the people close to me. So I want you to know. Then maybe we can work together in the future.”

“All right,” Knight said quietly, head bowed. “As… as long as I can see my son again.”

“I think we can manage that,” Harumi said, smiling. “I’ll talk with Kandros, see if we can rig up communication to your place on Kadara.” She saw the security officers approaching. “So many things have gone wrong since we came to Andromeda… but SAM’s not one of them.” She nodded in farewell. “I’ll talk to you later.”

She watched shuttle traffic in and out of the Nexus for a while after Knight had been taken off to prison. “SAM, you ever considered getting your own body?”

“I have but it has never been a primary concern. Why?”

“You help with my body, you helped fix Alain’s implants… You understand humans pretty well, shouldn’t you get a body of your own to experience the universe first-hand with?”

“The experiences I receive through you are first-hand experiences. An artificial body would not grant the same quality of stimuli. Also, to give me my own body was not your father’s original intention.”

“Well, I didn’t say you had to stop babysitting me to get your own body… Might have to build a new wing onto SAM Node to let you control two bodies at once, but it’s do-able, right? Anyway, my father’s not here. At some point we have to make our own decisions. Our own future.” Her voice trailed off a bit.

“Did you feel Alec was controlling your future?”

“Not controlling, exactly, but he certainly overshadowed it. Still does, really. And probably will for a while. Haruto felt the same, maybe even more so. I don’t know what you felt about his influence, but we don’t have to be bound by it as much anymore.”

“I see. I will consider what you have said, so far as it does not contradict Initiative protocols.”

“Oh, of course. Don’t want to break rules without extremely good reason.”

“Alec intended that I seek my own future eventually, but he did not get the chance to offer it to me. Thank you.”

“Uh… you’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

“Hey SAM, wanna watch a movie?” She pushed her rolly chair away from her terminal, turned to the little hologram projection. “I’ve been a good Pathfinder. I’m done my emails, got some time before bed.” Which he already knew.

Sometimes they ‘watched’ movies together. That is to say, she watched them with Squeaky, her hamster, and enjoyed them while providing commentary and banter as if he was just another friend watching with her, while he watched her and observed how humans reacted to entertainment media, with its artificial stimulation of real emotions. It had been a little odd at first, but she was used to it now. She liked it, and she thought SAM liked spending non-work time together too.

“What did you have in mind tonight?”

“Dug up an interesting file from Liam’s movie library, I think you’ll like it.” She tapped her omnitool, sent the file to the terminal screen over by her bed.

“Iron Man. The 2008 version starring Robert Downey Jr, often referred to as ‘classic’. There is an AI in this film, voiced by British actor Paul Bettany.”

“Yep. I watched it when I was a kid, and when I first met you I was like ‘Dad got inspiration from somewhere…’ You sound like JARVIS, you know.”

“Yes, I believe he selected this voice in order to lessen perception of me as a threat.”

“Good idea. Right, here we go.” She grabbed Squeaky out of his cage with a handful of treats to keep him quiet, moved to the other side of the room, made herself comfortable in her bed, dimmed the lights, and hit play.

The movie had barely started; JARVIS was waking up the reporter lady, and she smiled in delight. “He has such a sexy voice. I wouldn’t mind being woken up like that.” She liked to talk during movies, at least when they were ones she’d seen before.

Unexpectedly, SAM responded. “May I ask something personal?”

She tilted her head curiously, paused the movie to pay attention. “Do you even have to ask?”

“I believe it is something of a sensitive subject. When we were first connected, I detected you displayed signs of arousal when you heard my voice-”

“SAM!” Where the heck was this coming from- Ohhhh, she’d walked right into this, hadn’t she.

“These signs and their strength varied according to context, and have diminished with time and – presumably – familiarity, yet it is still present. …You are attracted to my voice.”

No point in dissembling. “Well, yeah – I just said I thought JARVIS was sexy, didn’t I? And you sound like him – ergo, you also sound sexy.” She squinted over at his projection on the other side of the room. “Is that a problem?”

“It is not a problem per se. You do not appear to be dangerously distracted even when the reaction is strong. However, I do not understand. It is only a voice.”

She grimaced. “I dunno, SAM. Something something tertiary sexual characteristics still get humans’ attention. Try to ignore it if you can, I’m a mammal with all kinds of dumb hormones. This sort of thing happens all the time. Remember Reyes?”

“It is true that you have also displayed signs of arousal around certain other people, including Mr. Vidal, and also Jaal and Vetra. But they are also organic beings. I am not. I wished for clarification.”

She shrugged, wondering if she could ever watch this movie again without feeling awkward. “I don’t know what to tell you, dude. You sound like you could be an organic being, and apparently that’s enough for my hormones.” It wasn’t the whole truth. But the rest she wasn’t ready to talk about.

“I see. I apologize for interrupting.”

“Not a problem.” Well, it was, because now she felt uncomfortable whenever JARVIS said anything. She’d also had to confess her attraction for her AI partner – at least in part. It was less embarrassing than she’d thought it would be, but still. He could probably tell she wasn’t being fully honest, though. At least he wasn’t asking about it.

They’d gotten slightly farther when SAM spoke up again. “Would you like me to wake you up in a similar fashion?”

“SAM!” Well, it would be nicer than the buzzer. On the other hand, was it smart to be encouraging her attraction to a synthetic being?

He’d totally been jealous of Reyes. He just didn’t realize it. She snickered evilly to herself.

“Harumi? What are you thinking about?”

She let the smirk go with a wistful sigh. “Sure, why not, be my polite British alarm clock. You can probably leave out the part about the surfing, though.”

“Understood.”

She waved her arm at the box; she had to do it several times before the scanner beeped at her. “Pathfinder, I’m scanning the unique signature from the drive core, but it’s clearly not here.”

She snorted; the omnitool was showing her the innards of the empty box. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“Which is why I specified ‘clearly’.”

She paused, eyes brightening. “SAM? Were you being sarcastic?”

“Not intentionally. However, I’ve noted that my response was regarded that way.”

She snickered to herself. Her baby was growing up! Yessssssss!

“Pathfinder?”

“Hey Ryder!” Cora was waving. “We have to track those guys now, come on!”

“Coming, Harper!”

She found Haruto standing in front of the cryo-pod she’d pulled down, trying to see through the frosted window. “So who’s Elizabeth Riley?”

She couldn’t help talking in riddles, she didn’t want to give it away just yet. “If you could have one person back in your life, who would it be?”

Haruto frowned at her. “Hold on a second… the initials are the same. Harumi… you’re not suggesting this is… Mom!?”

“It is,” SAM volunteered. “The bio-signature is identical.”

“I saw Dad’s last memory. He put her here. It’s really her.”

“Holy shit,” Haruto breathed, reaching out to rest a trembling hand on the cryo-pod. “I don’t… how… wow! How is this possible?”

“Dad loved her that much,” Harumi said softly. Or maybe was just too stubborn to accept reality, so he created his own. “He wouldn’t give up – not even at the bitter end.”

“For a man not given to rash action, his emotion drove his decisions in the end,” SAM said.

“This is incredible,” Haruto said. “So Dad being a pain in the ass finally paid off. I want to shake his hand.” Then he rounded on Harumi. “And then punch him! Why didn’t he tell us?”

“I know, right?” Harumi said, seriously irritated as she had been ever since Dad’s memories had begun dropping hints. “Why was the secrecy so important?”

“I believe he did not wish to give you false hope,” SAM said.

“He was going to have to tell us at some point,” Harumi said. “And the fact that he went to the trouble of locking the memories just before he died… Control freak. …I guess it doesn’t matter in the end. She’s still with us.”

“Well, let’s get her out of there!” Haruto exclaimed, reaching for his omnitool.

“That is inadvisable,” SAM interrupted. “Although Ellen is alive, reviving her would trigger the disease – which would prove fatal.”

“Okay, so we keep waiting… for what?” Haruto said.

“Alec hoped that here in Andromeda, we would discover new scientific insights that could provide answers. Our journeys in Heleus have indeed provided valuable genetic knowledge – information that could lead to a cure. But patience is required. For the moment, enjoy the fact that she is still alive – and that your accomplishments will one day save her life.”

“We’ll find one,” Harumi said. “Definitely. SAM, you’ll keep her safe until then, right?”

“Of course. My original purpose was to ensure the survival of Ellen Ryder. It is a mission I hope the three of us will one day fulfill – together.” Harumi and Haruto smiled at each other, giddy familial love with a conspiratorial tinge, the three of them united in taking care of… their mom. She was SAM’s mom too, in a way.

“Thanks, SAM,” Haruto said. “Wow. I’m going to visit every day until they kick me out of medical. You just rest up, Mom. We’ll get you better in no time.”

Harumi nodded. “Yup, with all the discoveries we’ve made so far, it’s only a matter of time until we figure out how to apply them.”

“You mean all the discoveries you’ve made,” Haruto said, giving her a poke in the ribs.

She slapped his hand away. “And the other explorers, and the scientists! Anyway, you’ll be at it in a few days, Dr. Carlyle said, so don’t whine.”

“Fine. Anyway, I’ll be back later, Mom.” Haruto began to put the cryo-pod back into its place.

“Yeah, I’ll come back when I can, Mom. Sleep well.”

She was still walking away when she threw her arms in the air. “That’s why he didn’t want to have a funeral! Oh my god, Dad!” Face-punching was too good for her dad. “Argh!”

Haruto laughed.

“SAM, anything you can do!?” They were being completely swarmed with kett and things were getting a bit hairy.

“Provide encouragement. I’m afraid the only option is brute force.” She snorted. SAM was not naturally encouraging – hang on, did that mean that was another sarcastic quip?

She ducked under another volley of shots and decided she could be gleeful about it later.

“Ryder, caution-” was all the warning she got before suddenly an orange glow surrounded her, binding her limbs and lifting her from the ground, Cora and Vetra behind her. Their guns clattered to the floor in sync. She was frozen, mid-stride, unable to move anything but twist her head a little bit. “Uh, uh, does anyone see a way out of this?”

The door ahead slid open and the Archon stepped through. Shit. “It’s useless to struggle,” he said, in that strange deep voice that still scared her, ever since the first time she’d confronted him in the Scourge outside of Aya. He advanced on her casually, his bodyguard beside him. She struggled anyway, not that anyone could tell. The immobilizing field was pretty total. “I’ve been in this forsaken cluster for decades, surrounded by amoeba.” He glanced at Vetra and Cora, but found them uninteresting. “Then you arrive – a ‘human’, able to do the unthinkable. You even evaded me. Such an unlikely rival. It was almost invigorating to have one. And yet, it’s a fitting end.”

“Is that what sad looks like?” she growled sassily. “I’d give you a hug, but…” She couldn’t even shrug disdainfully.

His right hand shot out and seized her by the throat; she thought she couldn’t get any more tense in her belly, and found that she was wrong, fear crawling up into her chest.

“Hey! Back off, asshole!” Vetra cried.

He turned her head from side to side, examining her dispassionately, like some kind of specimen – well, she knew what he thought of her and all her kind already. Without warning, she felt a needle jab through the back of her neck, agonizingly deep. Probably into her spinal column. She wanted to fight, struggle, kick him in his possibly-nonexistent balls, but she still couldn’t move a millimetre. Oh god, she wanted to retch from his cruel touch.

“A first sample,” he said, gloating. “Your testing begins now. I will learn your secret soon enough.” And then it was gone, and she could probably wipe the agonized look off her face now.

Explosions, multiple, echoed through the ship, and the Archon’s gaze snapped away from her. “Report. …Await my arrival.” He turned back to her, stepped in very close, those weird white eyes boring into her glare. “Save your strength… human.” He gave her one more searching look, before sweeping away, off to go deal with the disturbance. Bastard.

A few moments more, and they were alone. “Nnnnrgh,” she growled, unable to rub the stinging spot on the back of her neck.

“Raeka must have run into trouble,” Cora said.

“We have her beat,” Harumi said, craning her neck to look around and not seeing much of use within her field of vision. Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. “SAM, what can you tell me?”

“I’m sensing a biological transmitter in your bloodstream now. Attempting to neutralize it.”

A what-the-what? “Okay, that’s priority two for sure. Any idea how to break out of this?”

“The containment fields only interact with living matter. If you expire, the field around you will extinguish until manually reset.” Living non-kett matter, she was willing to bet – the Archon hadn’t seemed bothered by it. “As you know, my access to your physiology allows me to enhance your vital signals when required. I can also do the opposite.”

“Um…” Vetra began. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“So if you shut down my life signs… if you kill me… the field will disappear?” Just so they were totally clear about all this.

It might have been her imagination, but his voice seemed to have a surprisingly gentle note under the dispassionate monotone. “The one holding you, yes. Then I would attempt to resuscitate.”

“Are there any other options?” she asked the universe at large.

“None that I can determine,” SAM answered.

“This is a very, very bad idea,” Cora said. “Don’t do it, Harumi.”

“What choice do we have?” Harumi said. “We need to be out of here asap.” She didn’t want to get dissected and tortured by the kett. More softly, she grumbled, “It’s gonna hurt, isn’t it.”

SAM answered in the same low tone. “Possibly. I can attempt to mitigate.”

“Then do it.” Do it, before she had a chance to think about it and balk.

“You’re going to be fine,” Vetra said, big-sister instincts kicking in.

She was tense, her heart beating fast with nerves, waiting, waiting. Waiting to die. “Stopping your heart… now.” Suddenly – pain, tightness in her chest, she couldn’t breathe, wow, this happened fast…

…falling…

She came to with a huge gasp of air, sucking sweet oxygen into her lungs to make up for however much time she’d spent without. “Oh god. Oh god. It worked-”

“Of course it did.”

“-Oh SAM, I could kiss you.”

“No, you could not. I am given to understand it is difficult to kiss a holographic projection.”

“I could damn well try,” she bantered, her limbs trembling but free from that stupid restraining field. She grabbed her sniper and glanced over at Vetra and Cora. “You two look comfortable.”

“So did you, while you were playing dead,” Cora shot back.

SAM silently highlighted the controls for the rest of the field, and she hurried to them. She had to keep moving, to not think about what had just happened. Cora and Vetra landed heavily on their feet and picked up their guns.

“Let’s find a way out of this cage, huh?” she said.

She went back to her quarters after the yelling was over – Drak hadn’t been happy about his scouts, and she didn’t blame him; at the same time, she didn’t offer any apologies. Drak wouldn’t care about apologies, and she had done what she thought was right. But now she was exhausted and she could feel a bubble about to burst inside her.

She buried herself in her bed under a pile of pillows and blankets, holding herself tightly. Her hand drifted up to the back of her neck and she rocked back and forth as she felt the little divot where she’d been stabbed. Medigel had healed it up, Lexi had examined it closely and said she wouldn’t have any trouble with it, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d been stabbed, and she felt ill remembering it.

And the screams… those awful recordings, of the captured salarians… She shut her eyes and let herself cry a little. She wasn’t quite numb yet.

“May I be of any assistance?” SAM asked quietly, speaking from the bedside speaker, slightly muffled through the covers. Giving her the option not to respond.

She sniffled, spoke through her tears. “It’s okay, SAM. I’ll be okay. I just need rest.” Her voice cracked, and she let it. It would all fade with time. Just right now it was fresh, and she was tired and bad at dealing with feelings when she was tired.

“I appreciated when you told Lexi that you trusted me.”

“I do.” She managed to get her tears sort of under control and poked her head out from under the covers; thinking about SAM made her happier. “I trust you implicitly. I never thought I’d have to trust you with my life in that way, but I do.” Her personal guardian angel, way less fallible than an organic being. “You only ever do what is necessary. It’s not like you’re going to turn me off and on again for funzies. You take the best care of me.”

“You are my primary focus. I regret that there was no less-drastic solution to our problem on the Archon’s flagship. I am more concerned about your long-term recovery.”

“Yeah, Liam said I should take time off soon to sort through it, but I didn’t have that luxury the first time I died and I really don’t have it now. We have to find Meridian, find out how to activate it, stop the Archon. I have to keep going until then.”

“It will be a balance between your limits and your defined goals.”

“Well, there’s no one who knows my limits better – or how to help me surpass them.”

“Actually, organics can often defy known limits under pressure, if they do not break first. You may surprise even me.”

She smiled a little. “Break the limit, limit break anyway?”

“I do not understand the reference.”

“That’s okay. Some pop culture thing. I don’t even know.” She sighed. “Well, with you helping me, I can keep going for longer, limit-breaking or no. Although…” She trailed off.

“Yes?”

“I gather that you don’t normally interfere with anything beyond physical things – reflexes and adrenaline and stuff. But I might need more than that in the next few days. I can’t go to pieces at a critical moment.”

“If you are asking me to suppress your emotional responses, I would rather not. I do not know what the long-term outcome of such an action would be, or if you would make decisions that would hold true to yourself.”

That warmed her heart, but she had to try and be realistic. “Just – if it looks like I’m going to go over the edge and it’s a really bad time for me to do that…”

“I can give you a verbal warning as a first resort.”

“That’s great, do that, but if I’m begging you to clear my head, you’d better help me out. I’m not making decisions true to myself if I’m freaking out, either. I promise not to use you as a crutch.” Maybe Cora would be a better person to ask, but SAM was right there with her always.

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

She sat up, contrite. “I don’t mean… I don’t want to order you around, SAM.”

“That is your job, Pathfinder.”

She curled up again. “But… well… you’re my friend, too… I didn’t mean to shut you down.”

“Ah. You were asking as a peer.”

“Pretty much.”

“Please reiterate your directive tomorrow, after you have rested, if you still believe you will need it. Until then, I will only refer to you as Harumi.”

“Thanks, SAM.” She thought for a minute. “Lexi said I should talk about it. I know you were there, but do you think I should talk about it with you, or should we just watch a movie?”

“I am happy to hear you out. I believe it would benefit us both. However, perhaps you should ensure you are well-hydrated before you begin.”

She giggled through a sniffle and got up to grab one of her waterbottles. “Good point. There’s going to be waterworks everywhere.”

SAM listened to her recounting, as she relived the helplessness, the fear, the joy, the vicious rage and hatred, the wonder and satisfaction, the indignation and more rage, the agonizing decision at the end, the triumph as Kallo brought the Tempest in for them and they escaped from the teeth of the kett. Patient as ever, just letting her ramble and rant, letting her fight for words and cry incoherently.

She was doubly spent at the end of it. “Any thoughts?”

“You have never voiced anything so violent as your reaction to hearing the Archon torturing the salarians. You are angrier about that than the helplessness and violation you felt when he extracted your DNA.”

“Well, yeah. He didn’t actually get around to torturing me. I feel sick when I think about that needle, yeah. But those poor salarians… I had some idea of what I was walking into, but they woke up in the worst sort of horror movie. I’d kill him for what he did to me alone, but for what he did to them… I’m going to kill him painfully.” She stopped. “I… I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to be an idealist. I came to Andromeda to be an idealist. I didn’t even want to kill people when I came to Andromeda.”

“But you do feel this way. Even if you choose to redirect your emotions, you must acknowledge the ones you carry now, or else they will remain.”

“Very wise,” she said, smiling weakly.

SAM paused before he spoke again; either his next words needed far more calculation than usual, or he wanted to give the appearance that he did. “I believe I feel the same.”

“SAM?”

“The Archon’s actions made me angry. He hurt you, and none of us could prevent it. You were in fear and pain, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Ordinarily, being unable to find a solution to a problem simply requires waiting for more input; sometimes, when under high levels of duress, I feel what you might call frustration, but this was not simply a problem. This was wanton cruelty directed towards my partner, and towards innocents, and it made me… angry.” Another pause. “I’m not sure what to make of that.”

She didn’t either, and was a little in awe. “You were angry… for my sake?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“We have already determined that the Archon must die in order to survive in the Heleus Cluster. This has only reinforced that determination. I will not say I would like him to die painfully, only that if you should happen to feel satisfaction upon his death, I will as well.”

“Okay.”

“Please do not be concerned. It will not affect my performance.”

“I think we both need a hug,” she said, trying to decide what she felt about it too. On one hand… he cared for her so much, even more than she’d guessed. On the other hand, this was the sort of growing up that was… painful to see. She’d really hoped he’d be spared these kind of strong negative emotions longer. She wasn’t really concerned that with more human emotions, he’d make more human mistakes. He’d just assured her of that, and she believed him. She just hoped this wouldn’t hurt him much. One victim was enough.

But all this in general was much too heavy a subject for her, and definitely for now, so she smiled wanly and got up to go check on Squeaky. “I think that’s enough psychotherapy for tonight. Can you queue up the cute kitten playlist?”

“At once, Harumi.”

“SAM, everything ready?” They’d returned to Khi Tasira to follow the projected trail to Meridian, using the Remnant’s own computers and ships to do the final search for them.

“All relevant data is queued for uplink.”

She smiled softly to herself. “Right. Let’s… find a path.” She laid her hand on the console, and a whole bunch of sparkly lights lit up, indicating the scout ships powering up. It really did look like a command centre when the displays showed things that she could comprehend. She wondered if she was actually comprehending them, or if SAM was translating them in real-time, sort of like how eyeballs actually saw things upside down but human brains automatically turned them right side up.

There was a pause before SAM said: “Remnant ships have lifted off. They’re following the override vector.”

They had to wait a long time, but after a few hours, the main display, showing the feed of the Remnant ships, began to show something very interesting. “The Scourge is moving,” she said, climbing to her feet and squinting at the hologram. “But they’re getting through to… something.” A sphere, strangely smooth and segmented, as artificial as Khi Tasira, but as large as a planet.

“Meridian, Pathfinder.” Even SAM in his dry voice acknowledged the significance of it all.

“Is that a planet?” Cora asked. “It looks… constructed.”

“Data’s strange,” Vetra said. “It’s saying it’s hollow.”

“A self-contained seed world,” SAM said. “It is the heart of the vault network, and when reactivated, every connected planet will be affected. It is the means to make Heleus a home, Pathfinder.”

“We did it,” she breathed. “This is the day everyone in the Initiative has hoped and worked for – ever since we left our own stars. We really, really did i-” And suddenly, mid-sentence her voice wouldn’t work.

“Congratulations, Pathfinder. A great day for us all.” The Archon’s voice suddenly cut into her mind.

Oh god, no. “SAM?” she managed to blurt out. SAM? SAM! Something was wrong with her implant, it was like when Knight tried to shut it down but far, far worse. She was scared. She staggered, the doorway a blurry patch of light much too far away. Her head was numb and she couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. Her shields popped around her with a flash of blue sparks, though that was the least of her worries right now.

She heard Vetra and Cora both making loud concerned noises, but she couldn’t focus on them because some Archon asshole was speaking directly into her head somehow. She couldn’t listen to him monologue, she had to make it to the doorway. Doorway, Tempest, SAM. One foot in front of the other, but somehow they wouldn’t even do that, couldn’t go straight. Her heart was jumping erratically, once moment slow, the next fast. She couldn’t breathe how she wanted, couldn’t think how she wanted. Her blood was too loud in her ears and everything else was too quiet. Except the Archon, he was deafening.

Deafening and unintelligible. All his gloating was completely wasted because she wasn’t listening. She’d already figured out that SAM was in danger, Haruto was in danger, she needed to get to them now.

On cue, she fell on her face. Dammit, she’d crawl to the Tempest if she had to. She felt someone’s hands under her armpits, dragging her back up. Her head was lolling to one side and she shuffled a few steps, weaving drunkenly back and forth.

It was getting hard to see, getting even harder to hear. Ahead of her, the open door slid shut, the glowing streams of light in its seams fading to darkness. SAM… she needed him back.

Please, SAM, come back.

…come back…

SAM had very few options. He no longer had access to Harumi’s implant; the QEC connection was disrupted. Not broken entirely; it seemed the Archon was using it to speak to her. But SAM was being physically blocked from accessing it. He needed hands, and there was still someone on the Hyperion who could help him, someone currently suiting up in combat gear and preparing defence of the medbay. “Hello, Haruto.”

“Ahh! SAM? SAM, what’s going on? All we know is we’re being overrun!” The siblings were more similar than either of them liked to acknowledge, though that was only a broad estimate. His connection to Haruto’s implant, formed while he was in a coma, was on passive settings and not officially supposed to exist, as Haruto was not Pathfinder. He didn’t have the processing power to intimately assist two Pathfinders simultaneously. But they reacted to similar stimuli in similar ways.

“The kett have boarded the Hyperion. They are looking for you. The Pathfinder needs your help.”

Haruto flinched in disbelief. “This is crazy. She’s closing on Meridian.”

“The Archon has severed my link to your sister’s implant. If basic function isn’t manually restored, she will die.”

“What?”

There wasn’t time for more questions. “Haruto, please. Proceed to depot K-4 to secure a weapon.”

“Son of a…” Haruto took off running. “Info, SAM, I need something!”

“The Archon isn’t stealing the Hyperion. He wants you and me. Your implant is the same as the Pathfinder’s. He’ll use us to control Meridian, and your sister will die.”

“The Archon will kill her?”

“No. Losing me will.”

Haruto’s eyes widened, heart-rate jumping even as he snatched up a pistol from the armoury locker. “What? SAM!”

“Hostiles are ahead, Haruto. Be ready. I am sorry I can’t help you fight.” A moment to let Haruto focus. “…I took over too much of Harumi’s implant and losing me will kill her.” He could monitor Haruto’s physiology and that was about all. In order to connect, without the Pathfinder in direct contact to authorize transfer, Haruto would have to initiate it. SAM could not do it on his own, not to save anyone.

Haruto still hesitated a moment. “So when the comms dropped, she did too?”

Yes. “Hurry, Haruto.”

Haruto had not had the same field-time that Harumi had recently acquired; he was still a good shot and had good reflexes, but his responses were noticeably slower, and he hadn’t adapted to fighting kett. The uncertainties and challenges in Haruto successfully reaching the communications centre were moderately greater than if Harumi were attempting it.

Which was irrelevant, as Harumi wasn’t present, so he had to question why he was even wasting processing power on comparing them.

SAM didn’t experience time or distance the way organics did. They were equations and microscopic iterations of ‘now’ and ‘here’ – ‘here’ being for the Pathfinder, usually, sometimes for the Hyperion, depending on where his awareness was required. Travel distances, even experienced through Harumi, were simply periods of low activity between periods of high activity. But ever since he had been unable to access Harumi’s implant, she seemed very far away. He didn’t know her current status. It was distressing; an unnecessary amount of his processing power was attempting to calculate whether or not she might still be alive. But all the processing power in the Initiative wouldn’t be able to give him the facts he didn’t know. There was an incalculable number of ‘nows’ between the present moment and a future in which they made contact with her or her team again, and he would know; and barring outside assistance, it did not seem that that was going to happen. He was… worried. He did not like it.

The only course of action left available to him was almost too simple. Simple, that was, as long as Haruto survived long enough to make it happen. He didn’t want to risk Harumi’s brother, but he was the only one he could interface with directly right now.

Haruto dashed, panting, into the comm centre. “SAM, the captain won’t last. What are we doing?

“Manually send a reboot signal. It will reset your sister’s implant.”

“Default settings?”

“To restore the functions I shouldn’t have taken. With luck, her heart will not have stopped.”

Haruto frowned. “Wait a minute, SAM, since when do you rely on luck?”

He’d vocalized the human idiom without calculating its effects. Too much of him was still trying to solve the problem of Harumi’s life. He actually hesitated in his answer. “I am… not sure.”

Because it was true; he was relying on luck. He didn’t know her current status. There was nothing he could do to affect her current status. If she was already dead, he couldn’t save her this time.

“One pulse, Haruto. That’s all she needs.”

All he could do was… hope, this would be interpreted as hope, that she was not yet dead, and that she would be able to come and save them. Because…

“You know if I send this, the Archon will know exactly where I am,” Haruto said, but he didn’t hesitate in initializing the QEC board for the signal.

“I know. I am sorry, Haruto.”

“Me too, SAM.”

Somewhere in the back of her head, something went ‘ping’. Not audibly, but she definitely felt something. Amazing, considering she was almost a completely unconscious vegetable.

She could breathe, and did. Her heart, that had been beating so slow, suddenly raced, adrenaline shooting into her system. She blinked her eyes open and sat up quickly, almost hitting Cora in the face with her head. “Oops, sorry. Oh god. What’s happening?” Her tongue was sluggish, but it moved, and she could hear, and the numbness in the back of her head was gone.

“You started staggering and then passed out,” Cora summarized. “The door’s shut and locked, Vetra’s been trying to open it. By punching it, mostly. What happened to SAM? Do you know?”

She tried to get to her feet, but a head-rush stopped her. “The Archon’s taken him. …He’s captured the Hyperion!”

“Oh shit,” Vetra said, from where she’d been banging on the door. “How are you still alive?”

“No idea. But we need to get back.” There was a console over to the side. She made it to her feet on the second try and with Cora’s help, and flopped on it, slapping her hand in the middle of it.

Nothing happened.

“The door is Remnant,” Cora said, as if talking to a child. “We need SAM to make it work.”

No, it had to work. “We need to get back.” She pushed harder, gritting her teeth, trying to think of how it felt when she and SAM had opened them before. SAM might have done most of the work but it had still been her hand he needed on the console to make it happen.

A flicker, some of the tiles dipped before coming up again. She let out a cry of pain, her head pounding again.

“Okay, that looked like it hurt,” Vetra said. “Are you sure you can…”

“We need to get back!” She pushed again. Another flicker, bigger this time, but not enough. She felt dizzy and slipped to her knees with another cry. She pushed again. “Open!”

Oh god, it really hurt this time, her head was splitting and she almost passed out again. More of the tiles went down and the door cracked open in the centre. Again! “Open, dammit!”

“Harumi, it’s not worth it!” Both Cora and Vetra were hovering over her, trying to pry her away from the console.

“I can do this!” She batted them weakly away with her other hand – they were interrupting her concentration, she could get it, she knew what it felt like now – and pushed with all her physical and mental strength, crying out as the pain lanced in her head and through her body.

The door opened.

“SAM,” she gasped, letting them support her. Cora was calling the Tempest, and the Tempest was responding. She needed to save him – save everyone from the Archon, but him most of all. He was in the most danger. If that genetic freak damaged even a piece of SAM, she was going to do worse than rip his horns off and shove them up his ass.

She’d mostly recovered by the time they reached the Tempest’s landing platform. The whole crew was waiting for her, except Kallo, Gil, and Suvi. “There you are,” Lexi called, running to her, sweeping her with her omnitool. “You need to stop doing this!”

What, dying? Had she actually died this time? She sure didn’t know. “Nice to see you too,” she snarked. “News on the ark?”

“Still headed to Meridian with a small flotilla,” Kallo reported. “You got the last signal before the Archon locked it down.”

“We’re not letting that stand,” Liam shouted. “Be ready to move.”

Um, she was Pathfinder, not him. “Wait,” Cora said, stopping him in his charge back to the Tempest. “We need a plan.”

“Stop ship, kill jerk!” Peebee said.

She loved it, but that wasn’t a plan, that was a to-do list. “Maybe we’re outgunned, but there’s always a way.” Her eyes drifted to the spires of Khi Tasira. “There’s… a way.” Her gaze settled on the console at the edge of the landing platform. While the others totally ignored her and began to bicker in earnest, she walked slowly towards it. She wasn’t sure what it controlled. But right now, she’d move the universe to get SAM back.

She rested a hand on the console, feeling it, really feeling it. She’d never really done it before, feeling it, not with SAM helping her. But here… she felt power on the other end, something… enormous, dormant, waiting. And it wasn’t alone. She pushed.

The power responded, and one of the massive ships undocked far below, rising up beside the platform slowly, meter after meter, hundreds and hundreds of meters of metal and engine glow, like one of the spires of Khi Tasira itself had come to life at her bidding.

“You… did… an impossible thing,” Peebee said in awe.

“Can you keep that up?” Cora asked, looking her in the face. “Have them fight for us?”

She felt something wet trickle down from her nose and swiped at it, knowing without looking that her glove was going to be bloody. Her head was still pounding. Cora’s face softened in compassion.

The others didn’t see the blood. “Rally the troops for a last stand!” Drack cried.

She was going to live to see SAM and Haruto again, thanks. “We’re not throwing anyone’s lives away, but the Remnant give us a chance worth taking.” She looked around at all of them, held their eyes. “Right?”

Cora exhaled, nodded firmly. “Right.”

She felt her gaze harden in determination. “Is this where I give a speech? Ask you to die for me? No thanks. I say we shove the Remnant down the Archon’s throat. And maybe that buys us a chance. All of us. A chance for the whole cluster to pile on.” She took a deep breath, straightened, began to march to the ship. “Everyone in Heleus has earned some fucking payback.”

The doors in Meridian control were closing. And opening. Herding them. Or shepherding them? And the Remnant weren’t attacking. The Archon wouldn’t be doing this. Was it SAM?

She smacked the last door out of her way and stomped into the main control centre – or at least she guessed that was what it was, since the Archon and his bodyguards were there, and Haruto, still bound to a seat ripped from the Hyperion. She was terrified, not knowing what lay ahead at this showdown, vastly outnumbered and outgunned as usual, and yet her anger carried her on fearlessly.

The Archon sounded pretty grouchy, but then, he always did. “It arrives! This attempt to rival me is no longer amusing, Pathfinder.”

“Hey, Harumi, get my clues?” Haruto looked pretty worn out, brow creased in pain, yet was still cracking an annoying smirk. That was her little brother, all right.

“Pretty clear path, bro,” she called to him, ignoring the Archon entirely.

“Tried to keep him distracted,” Haruto joshed. “It was… hit and miss.”

“So determined but so pointless,” the Archon interrupted. “Your connection serves me.” All right, what had he done to SAM? Captain Dunn said that SAM wasn’t responding. Had he shackled him down to being a mere super-computer? How? Was it permanent? Or had he just muted him? He was still monologuing. “I know how it works. The mind is trained to think like the Remnant creators. In this case, painfully.” His little floating robot scanned Haruto’s head, and her brother’s face contorted in a grimace, his body twisting in his bonds. “But I’m content to let him bear that burden. Whatever gives me Meridian. I will transcend what you pretend to be!”

And what did she pretend to be? What a total fucking asshole. As if he could even pretend to care about a human.

“You’re out of time,” she said, her fury holding her voice steady. “I’ve matched you every step. You’ve failed, Archon. You’re the pretender.”

His minions were hooking up weird cables to his back. “You learn by accident!” he bellowed. So what? “I am the genetic inheritor of a thousand species!” So actually what?

“No one cares!” she taunted him, glaring with fiery determination. No backing down now.

He began to rise into the air, white electrical light flashing around him ominously. She was so far away from him, from her brother, they were on top of a mountain of moving Remnant pillars. “No more mercy! Kill them all!”

How incredibly cliché, she considered as she dove behind cover with a smooth roll and came up firing, Vetra right behind her. As if he’d been showing them mercy until this point…

She should have been exhausted, after everything else that had happened that day, after the long fight to reach even this point, and without SAM’s help. She was trembling with energy instead, ready to unleash it on the kett. Not great for headshots, but her biotics flowed from her with deadly force.

And after the kett, the Archon brought up the Remnant, throwing out very personal insults periodically. ‘Everyone’s going to die and it will be all your fault’-type insults, the ones that Addison thought privately. She must really have touched a nerve for him to be acting so immature, huh. All Harumi cared about was getting to the console Haruto was indicating to her through their now-linked implants.

She made it, running, jumping, crouching, shooting, but it was locked, and she didn’t have the concentration to unlock it and activate it while fighting off seemingly endless hordes of Remnant. “The Archon’s fighting me!” Haruto yelled despairingly. “I don’t have your practice!”

“Assisting,” said a calm, detached, British voice, and Harumi felt her heart leap. He was okay. He was okay. The Archon must have let his control slip.

“SAM?”

“I’m still restricted, but the more Remnant you destroy, the more fractured the Archon’s attention.”

She jumped to it – and to dodge a shot from the Architect still looming over them all. She was swept on wings of adrenaline, sweat trickling down her neck. “Hold position, kill Remnant! I’m on it!”

Haruto was strategizing, himself. “SAM! Soft spot on the big thing?”

“The armoured head, Haruto.”

“Let’s open it up!” Haruto grunted, and she looked up to see the interior of the head blossoming open welcomingly for her singularities and lances. She bared her teeth in determination and laid into it, Vetra and Cora flanking her.

A tide of Remnant was her reward, and the Architect, though damaged, was still functional and threatening, though she managed to get the console operational in the lull. And on the other side of the control chamber, there was no way to reach the next console… until Haruto fought and won some control of his own and lifted a bridge for her. “I’ve got it! I-” and he broke off with a gritted scream of pain that made her heart constrict.

“Haruto! You okay?”

“You need to hurry, Pathfinder,” SAM said. “We’re all straining.”

Somehow his voice calmed her. He might not have been in her head but he was there, fighting with them, in ways that only he could. She clenched her teeth and launched herself towards her goal, sliding behind cover before the Architect’s heavy machine gun could hit her, popping up to shoot an Observer right in the eye.

This one was harder to defend, harder to activate, but finally… “Relay down! Tell me how to bring this all home!”

“One more! Just… one?” Haruto’s voice cracked; he barely sounded conscious. He sounded so tired, so wounded…

“Haru? Haru!” She hadn’t called him by the short name in ages.

SAM answered her. “We are out of time, Pathfinder. Hurry.”

Heart aching for her twin – or it could have been the beginnings of another heart attack, who knew at this point, she’d been mostly dead earlier, though she was pretty sure it was worry for Haruto – she charged back to the centre of the chamber. She made it to the last console and slammed her hand down on it, feeling how the threads of command led into each other, willing her control over the network, willing more raw power into the Archon’s feed.

Above, the Archon grunted, yelled, began ripping those cables out of his back desperately as sparks flew wildly.

Harumi’s head was swimming in pain, but she kept her hand on the console. It was her or him, as it always had been. She yelled hoarsely as she gave every last bit that she had, felt her throat burn, saw bright lights both outside and inside her eyes. Her heart was throbbing fast and hard and hot, every pulse feeding into her single-minded mental attack.

The Architect collapsed into the chasm behind them. And ahead, above, the Archon dangled like a dead man in a hangman’s noose, before falling free and tumbling to the ground heavily to lie still.

She had to take a minute, put her head down, breathe…

“Pathfinder,” SAM said politely, though there might have been some residual static in his voice. “Meridian is… online.”

And the room lit up, piece by piece, with a vast hum of alien technology. She rested her hand on the console, though she didn’t use it – she could feel the network through the cluster, could feel all the way to the vaults on the other planets, the ones she’d seen… and ones she hadn’t yet. They were coming to life. She breathed, and felt Heleus breathe with her.

She didn’t let anyone else take care of her twin, releasing him from his restraints herself, half-carrying him down from the control station herself. He didn’t seem to want to let go of her, either. They leaned on each other, an arm about each other’s shoulders, though they were both half-dead of injury and exhaustion. But they stumbled on together, right out to the entrance, so far away. Only there did she let Lexi take over.

As soon as she was installed in her bed in medbay and left alone, she tried to get his attention. “SAM?”

“Yes, Harumi?” His voice came from her omnitool so she spoke to the omnitool.

She smiled. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I worried for you so much as soon as I figured out the Archon was kidnapping you.”

“And I was concerned for you. I did not know if you would survive.”

She felt warmth fill her from head to toe, some of the post-battle elation buzz still hanging around. “Aww, well, I did. I was so glad to get to you and Haruto in time. Hearing your voice again… I was so happy.”

“As were we, that you came to rescue us. You accomplished extraordinary things in a very short period of time.”

She yawned. She’d used way too much biotic power, even without all the fighting that had gone with it. The medics had made sure she got enough calories to replenish her energy, but she was going to have to take a long while off to recover properly. “Yeah, I only cheated death for the umpteenth time and raised a giant armada of ancient robot ships and every known ally in Heleus for you two. I’m so giving Haruto a hard time about it when the doctors let him out. And holy fucking shit, it was still the toughest battle ever. I didn’t even get to snipe the Archon.” She yawned again.

“Rest, Harumi. We will be able to talk later.”

“G’night, babe,” she slurred, and fell asleep.

She was confined to medbay for nearly two weeks – Haruto was going to be in for longer, she was told, and he was grumpy about it, having already been out of commission for the first few months in Heleus. At least he was still alive, and he’d certainly played his part in saving them all.

SAM still hadn’t re-established the connection they’d had before. He hadn’t spoken in her head once since then, only communicating through her omnitool or the console by her medbed.

As soon as they let her out of her medical bed without an escort, she made a beeline for SAM Node, bursting through the doors with a brisk stride. “SAM! Oh, god, SAM. It’s good to see you in person again.”

“Hello, Harumi. I am glad you are recovering well.”

She sank to her knees in front of the console, looking up at the hologram. “I really want to hug you, but your servers are too big to hug so I’m just going to hug the console, mmkay?” And she did so, tightly. SAM couldn’t feel it, at least not through the console, but he could see the hug, and know from experience what it felt like.

She sat there for a long moment, clinging to that piece of her best friend. Maybe losing him wouldn’t kill her like she feared it would. But she was even less inclined to go through Andromeda without him than before.

“Harumi.” She looked up, saw a light shining on a portion of the railing around SAM’s hologram. “Sit here.” Confused, she got up and did so, and the swirling code wafted around her, enveloping her in blue and orange lights. “This is the closest I can approximate a reciprocation to your gesture.”

Warmth filled her, and a huge smile blossomed on her face. She reached up with one hand to run her fingers through the swirling lights. “Thanks, SAM. I really appreciate it. That’s beautiful.” She basked for a moment. Funny, she was being ‘hugged’ by a picture of his brain, wasn’t she? “You’re beautiful, you know. Is this your code?”

“It is the binary code at the root of my programming. Your father wanted a unique visualization for what you might call my ‘face’. It is too small for most beings to read, and completely inefficient to find any specific portion through sight alone.”

“But it’s visually appealing, and yeah, it is unique. Dad had a mild artistic bent sometimes.” She waited a moment more before broaching the slightly dangerous subject. “I was wondering… you haven’t reconnected with my implant like you did before, have you?”

“No. Your implant is currently on default connection settings. We are no more connected than the other Pathfinders and their SAMs.”

She frowned. “How am I still alive?” She’d questioned it before, but not out loud – it hadn’t felt like the time to speak of serious things, until now.

“I compiled a program that would carry out the functions I took over during your first death, in the event that I was disconnected from you an an inopportune time. I installed a test version in your implant shortly after the events on the Archon’s ship. The only discernible flaw was that it was not activated upon disconnection, but only after the implant was given the default signal.”

“Were you planning to tell me about this?” She gave him a slight side-eye. It had seemed that ever since she died the first time, she was stuck with AI-powered lower-brain-function life support. How exploitable of a weakness was that? Just hit her with an EMP device, she’d go down like a bowling pin.

“I apologize. It was a measure of last resort. I had thought it would cause you more stress to know of its existence, given that it was not complete and so did not have a 100% chance of working.”

Point, she guessed; it was pretty stressful when she was flopping around like a boned fish, but it would have been even more so wondering if the program was going to kick in or not. “Okay, so I’m functional without you being directly plugged into my brain… Are you going to reconnect anyway?”

“I did not intend to. However, it is your decision.”

“You didn’t intend to? But we were such a great team!”

“We did work well together. And I enjoyed our time together. However, should the kett assault the Hyperion again, and they will certainly attempt it, you will be in as much danger as before. I can improve the program but it will never be foolproof.”

“I know.”

SAM wasn’t done. “When we were forcibly disconnected, the uncertainty as to your status was distressing. I have now experienced concern and doubt on a personal level. It was not an experience to be willingly repeated.”

Welcome to being human, she thought. She was proud of him for feeling emotions, but wasn’t sure how to articulate that, especially not about negative emotions like this. “I didn’t know… I’m… I’m sorry that you were worried.”

“It is not something you can or should apologize for, Harumi.”

“Logically, I suppose not, but I don’t want to worry my friends. But… does that one terrifying experience really outweigh everything else we experienced together?”

“No.” No hesitation. He’d probably calculated it out beforehand. “Aside from the other experiences we shared and the growth derived therefrom, while we were disconnected, I also experienced hope, and made calculations based on incomplete data – that is to say, I relied on luck. Both are organic traits. I cannot calculate how either will affect my future performance. That is why the decision is up to you.”

Meaning, the risk and responsibility were hers. She caressed a swirl of code near her face. “I want you back anyway, SAM. I trust you. And you’re safer now here than you were on the Nexus.”

“I disagree with your assessment of Meridian’s safety. However, you are the Pathfinder. Reconnecting now.”

It was an almost imperceptible change, all-encompassing and indescribable – like the world brightened slightly, a heightened awareness. She smiled, and felt tears in the back of it. “Welcome back, SAM.”

“I was never truly gone, Harumi. But thank you.”

She opened her arms, leaning back into code-light. “You’re the best. Given the choice, I will always choose you, SAM.”

“You are so very emotional.”

“I know.” She smiled. She was an odd partner for him, wasn’t she.

“Many organics would find your strong attachment to an AI to be strange.”

What was he getting at? “Yeah, well, they don’t know you like I do.”

“May I ask something personal?”

She tilted her head curiously. “Go ahead.”

“You have already admitted to being attracted to my voice. You are strongly attached to me. Would it be accurate to classify these feelings as love?”

Her eyes widened. Even with his flat monotone, the content of his words was enough to get her heart pounding. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh wow, you don’t pull your punches, do you?” What was she going to say to that? The truth, for starters. She’d kept secrets long enough. “Bluntly, yeah, I love you, SAM. It’s… not what I was really expecting, no. But… you, I trust you, completely, I like you as a person, I want to protect you above almost anyone else, to fight for you should you need it, and… yes, I think you have a hot voice. But SAM…” She dithered. “Look – I don’t want to coerce you into anything. I don’t want to force you into a – into anything, into thinking you feel things for me because my body is telling you that I feel things for you. Does – does that make sense?” She’d tried to figure out beforehand how this conversation would go down but getting her pre-planned thoughts in order was next to impossible given how suddenly this had come up. And even though she knew SAM would give her time to figure it out… she wanted to tell him as quickly as she could, now that it was out there. Even though… he’d would never tell her she was beautiful, not the way an organic would. A little thing, and one she could live without, but she had to be honest, she would miss it sometimes.

“Yes. I understand what you mean. However, despite our connection, I am my own person – as you are yours. Your influence over me is substantial, yet not universal.”

“Oh, good. Well, and… well, one other problem might be that you’re kind of like my little brother, aren’t you? Dad made you, Mom made the implants…”

“That objection is a product of biology, designed to propagate the species through diversifying genes. I am an AI. I have no genes.”

“Well, okay, fine. I never really thought of you as a little brother, anyway. You were always SAM.”

“I do not believe I yet have the emotional capacity to ‘fall in love’ the way an organic would. Nor can I yet personally satisfy the sexual side of your attraction.”

“SAM!” She squeaked. The idea of SAM… ‘personally satisfying the sexual side of her attraction’ was… oh god. Not something to think about even in the dubious privacy of SAM Node. She was going to stop masturbating again, too. And if he couldn’t fall in love, why was he even bringing all this up??

Wait. He’d said ‘yet’. Did that mean he was considering… possibilities…? Of course he was, he’d consider every possible possibility. She felt like screaming internally. Maybe even externally.

“However, I have a marked preference for interacting with you above any other being, organic or AI. You could even call it a strong attachment. Therefore, if you are willing, it is a concept I would like to explore. …Given the choice, I will always choose you, Harumi.”

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest at her own words being quoted back at her, suddenly charged with a much more intense meaning than even she’d intended, even if delivered in a detached, dispassionate tone. Being called beautiful sometimes suddenly seemed completely irrelevant. “SAM… I’ll love you as much as you want, as much as I can. I’ll wait for you to understand, as patiently as I can. And if you can’t… I’ll still love you anyway.” The code suddenly seemed inadequate for hugging; she wanted to wrap her arms around a body. She let SAM continue to ‘hug’ her anyway.

“Thank you, Harumi.”