Slaves of Cerberus

As the hours ticked by, Sam came to the same realization she had had back in her time pacing the Normandy cargo bay: the dread and anticipation was almost as bad as the torture.

Not to say that going through the experiences of having Kelly sexually savage her on multiple occasions were something she looked forward to. A twisted little way to break the monotony, she mused to herself with a dour expression, as she lay down on the couch in Kelly's quarters and felt her naked skin slide against the smooth padding. But at least when it was happening, she wasn't left staring at the walls of her spacious cell, wondering what madness was going to come next.

Hell, she didn't even have a way of measuring time. No clocks anywhere in the room, and with Kelly gone there was no omni-tool or datapad to look at. So Sam had no way of even knowing how long she'd been trapped in this nightmare. She had no idea how long ago Kelly had left, or – to be honest – any certainty that she would ever come back. If Kelly had done something to displease their captors, shown them that she wasn't entirely back with Cerberus...

"Calm down, Sam," she muttered to herself, sitting up on the couch and taking a deep breath. Glancing up, she saw the red light of the surveillance camera in the corner of the ceiling. It reminded her of something she had read about in university: the Panopticon, they called it. A "perfect" prison where the prisoners would never know if they were being observed by their wardens or not, and so would always have to operate under the assumption that they were or risk punishment.

It was the same with this camera. From the setup she had seen in Morgan's security room, it was always possible that Morgan might not be watching the camera in Kelly's quarters at the moment. But without knowing when those times would be, Sam was forced to constantly appear to be under the watchful eye of Kelly's blond, psychotic "best buddy." There was the blind spot between the main sitting room and the bathroom, but Sam couldn't afford to linger there too long without arousing suspicion.

So she sat on the couch, felt the seconds slither by like snails, and played the part of the obedient bitch, waiting for her mistress to come home.

When the door finally slid open, Sam felt a sense of relief. But when she stood up and turned to see Kelly enter, that relief soon faded.

"Hey, Sam... I me... mean... bitch," Kelly said, stumbling through the door. In contrast to the strangely clean and freshly-pressed uniform she wore, she looked totally disheveled. Her blond hair, turning a bit strawberry after days of not reapplying her dye, was frazzled and unkempt. She walked shakily into the quarters, her eyes cast down at the floor either out of depression, or in order to make sure there was nothing she could trip over as she hesitantly directed herself forward on quivering legs.

The source of Kelly's state became obvious once Sam saw the bottle in her hand. Some sort of expensive, and no-doubt highly alcoholic, liqueur bottle was clutched in her fingers, already a quarter empty.

"Where did you get that?" Sam asked, before glancing in the direction of the camera again and adding, "Mistress?"

"What's that?" Kelly slurred, her eyes blearily blinking. Finally, she held up the bottle as if she were surprised at its presence. "There was a... a... what's the... liquor cabinet in the room where they... where it happened. After they left me, I figured I might as well help myself." Looking at Sam, she forced a insincere smile to her face. "After all, I'm in Cerberus too, ain't I? Especially now that I... I..."

Sam couldn't keep up appearances anymore. Bolting up from the couch, she grabbed Kelly by her free hand and dragged her over to the blind spot between rooms. "Kelly, what the hell happened? You've been gone for hours! At least I assume so."

"It was nothing, Sam," Kelly muttered, all while keeping her eyes averted from Sam's inquisitive stare. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Kelly, please," Sam said. "You know how much I care about you. If something happened, no matter how bad it was, I want to..."

Kelly rapidly shook her head, the vigorous action almost causing her to tumble off her feet in her drunken state. "Forget it... s'nothing. You don't need to know about..."

Their conversation was interrupted by the beeping of Kelly's omni-tool. For a moment, Kelly reached with the bottle in her hand to activate it, almost spilling its remaining contents all over the floor. But she remembered at the last minute to set it aside, and soon an audio message from Nerine was playing:

"Hey, there, Kelly! Some of the ladies back at the barracks were telling us all about the party they had with you and Shepard earlier. Pity that Karlie and I weren't invited, but then again we have our own little date set up, don't we? Looks like it's half past 2000 hours, so be prepared for us to come knocking in thirty minutes. Because if we come and you don't answer your door... well, I'm bringing my omni-tool along with me. If that door hasn't opened by the third ring of your bell, I've got a message all prepped and ready to send to Morgan, letting her know what a terrible friend you are. And if that happens, I imagine what happened to you back in the testing area will pale in comparison to what we end up doing to that sweet little bitch of yours. Catch you later, baby!"

Kelly listened to the message in horror, the reminder of what was to come tonight shaking her briefly out of her alcoholic haze. "Oh, no," she muttered as the message ended. "I can't do this." She looked up at Sam with a face wracked with grief. "I can't watch them do this to you, Sam. I'd rather die than..."

"Shh, shh, calm down," Sam said quickly. They were lingering too long in the blind spot, Sam knew, but after hearing Nerine's message she was starting to think of something. "Maybe... maybe you won't have to," she muttered. Just like a game of chess, she was rapidly examining the state of the "board" in her head. The two Phantoms and their aggressive tendencies. Nerine's message, and one part of it in particular. The camera up in the corner of the quarters, and the personality of the woman who sat on the other side of its feed. And one more thing... perhaps the final puzzle piece that would make it all come together.

It could work. In chess terms, it was a basic ploy, but if she could pull it off without her "opponent" noticing... it actually could work.

"What are you talking about?" Kelly asked, looking at Sam with pleading eyes. Sam had no idea what had happened to her in the past few hours, but seeing that desperate look on her face made Sam hope beyond hope that the plan she was beginning to rapidly formulate would actually work. It was dicey, and would require Sam to put skills to use that she hadn't practiced in years... but maybe, just maybe, it would postpone the inevitable.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said to Kelly, speaking rapidly to minimize any further time out of the camera's watchful eye. "A way to deal with those two frightful women. But Kelly, listen to me: you're going to need to do exactly what I say. And no matter what happens, you cannot intervene. Do you think you can do that?"

Kelly was quick to nod. "Sure, sure," Kelly said, before turning her head to tip back the bottle in her hand.

Sam's hand immediately shot out and grabbed Kelly by the wrist, pausing the bottle inches away from Kelly's lips. "The first thing I'm going to need you to do, Kelly, is stop drinking that stuff right now," Sam said seriously.

A pained sigh escaped Kelly's lungs. "Sam, I'm not... not that drunk. And I can do whatever you... you tell me to do," she said, voice still slurring but a little clearer.

"I'm sure you can, love," Sam said. "But it's not your state of intoxication I'm worried about. If my plan is going to work... we might need that swill.