The Justicar and The Spectre

The elevator arrived with an abrupt jerk, with its doors emitting a noticeable grinding sound as they parted, stopping just short of their full opening cycle. Shepard didn't want to risk getting trapped if the doors decided to slam back shut, so he took a sudden leap out of the carriage, landing with a slight stumble.

It was hardly the entrance he wanted to make when he arrived at the crew deck, but navigating the temporarily haphazard layout of the Normandy gave him no other option, not until the repairs could be made at least. The Normandy's last run in with a pirate gang had put the state-of-the-art vessel through its paces, taking more than its fair share of high impact volleys from the modified Shank Class corvette's broadside cannons, pushing the experimental kinetic barriers to the max.

But with Joker's unmatched skill behind the control console, and Garrus's modifications to the formidable weapons banks, the pirates quickly found themselves regretting going after the Normandy. With a few precisely targeted javelin disruptor torpedoes to the corvette's underbelly, the pirates found themselves floating aimlessly in their disabled ship. To ensure that the gang wouldn't be able to prey upon any future vulnerable travellers, Shepard sent an away team over to the corvette, led by the stoic Samara, with support from Jack and Jacob. The aim had been to apprehend the remaining pirates, leaving a location buoy behind to allow any Alliance ships in the system to locate and arrest them.

At least, that was the intention. But even the perpetually battle ready Shepard couldn't have predicted how much resistance the pirate crew would put up against the boarders, throwing up every shield and defense mechanism they had at their disposal, hammering the away party with gunfire and devastating explosives. However, Shepard was also sure that the pirates couldn't have expected to be facing down the force of nature that was the Justicar.

The full details of the battle on the corvette were still unknown, with Miranda being left to write up a full report, taking an account from the trio that had laid siege to the stricken ship. But given the look of pure awe on Jack's face when they returned, accompanied by the shell-shocked expression on Jacob's, it wasn't hard for Shepard to draw his own conclusions. But as the commander of the crew, Shepard always prioritised carrying out his own assessments, particularly when it involved a warrior as capable as Samara.

Shepard received a set of salutes from the crew as he passed by, headed in the direction of the starboard observation deck. A smirk appeared when he spotted Jack standing on one of the tables in the dining area, excitedly relaying what she had seen, delighting in the horror her words brought to the faces of the Cerberus crew members.

"I'm telling you, I saw it with my own eyes. She cracked the guy's neck using her fucking heel!" Jack exclaimed, imitating the action with her own boot, scraping it against the brushed steel beneath it. "Then, she picked him up and used him as a goddamn meat shield. Now that's a bitch I can really get behind, not some jumped up Cerberus stripper in a catsuit."

Shepard chuckled to himself, reaching the door leading to Samara's personal space on the Normandy. Despite having seen Samara in action with his own eyes during their previous battles together, he always knew that anything Jack said should be taken with a pinch of salt, especially when she was doing her best to rile up the Cerberus crew. He entered the observation deck, making sure to lock the door behind him.

As always, Samara could be found mediating in front of the large window, which provided the occupants with a dazzling view of the starfield beyond. With the Normandy's current position, Shepard spotted the scattered remains of the corvette, silhouetted against the orange flare of the system's sun, evidence of the capabilities of the SR-2 and it's crew. Looking down, Shepard watched the thin blue aura surrounding Samara dissipating, noticing the white glow in her eyes fading when she turned her head towards him, until they returned to their usual entrancing icy blue.

"Shepard? It's good to see you. Was there something you needed?" Samara asked, as composed as ever.

"Just wanted to check up on you," John replied, taking a seat in the plush bench chair that flanked the Justicar. "Let's just call it an impromptu catch up, nothing official."

"I see," Samara tilted her head in understanding, displaying a level of serenity that contrasted the fiery devastation she had left behind on the corvette. "Was there something in particular you wished to discuss with me? Perhaps pertaining to the mission?"

"Yeah, something like that," Shepard rubbed the back of his neck, aware that evading the questioning gaze of a Justicar was destined to be a futile task, "Everyone's been talking about what happened on the pirate's ship, and I'm pretty sure that Jack is one Extranet blog away from starting her own fan club dedicated solely to you. But I felt that I'd be better off getting the full story from the woman herself, if you're okay with it?"

"Of course," Samara nodded, giving Shepard her complete attention, still remaining in her meditative position, "I gave you my Oath, Shepard. I won't keep any secrets from you, especially anything regarding my actions during the missions we venture on. Do you disprove of my actions on the ship?"

"Of course not, I doubt anyone around here is going to be too cut up about the loss of some pirates, particularly ones that decided to go up against a ship they were woefully outclassed by," Shepard said, letting out a small chuckle when he remembered Joker's disbelief when the corvette actually dared to move into an attack position. "I was just curious about your feelings about what happened. You're like a one-woman army, but I don't think I've ever met a calmer person in my life, even in the heat of battle. I'm not sure if I've ever seen you express even a flicker of anger."

"If you had met me as a maiden, then you would have encountered a girl driven by her emotions, pursuing a life of cheap thrills. It might surprise you to discover that I was once a performer on Omega many centuries ago, before Aria T'Loak staked her claim," Samara explained, with a level of disconnect that made it sound as though she was talking about a different person altogether. "My powerful biotics made me untouchable, arrogant. Far too many of the beings who were on the receiving end of my powers were innocents, people who had the misfortune of encountering the mercenary organisation I eventually found myself working for. Being a Justicar allows me to atone for my misdeeds, and to cope with what happened to my daughters."

"So wiping out the pirates was you making amends for the things you did when you were a merc?" Shepard questioned, always fascinated by the idea of uncovering the past lives of a species as long-lived as the asari.

"Pirates, mercenaries, slavers, they all share the same lack of morality, a lack of compassion for the beings they turn into victims. They bring misery to this galaxy, slaughtering and pillaging in the name of profiteering," Samara rose up and walked towards the window, close enough for her aristocratic face to reflect in the glass, gazing apathetically at the floating wreckage, "I feel no guilt for what I did to them. There is no anger, no hatred, no sense of vengeance, there is only the Code."

"So you don't feel emotion?" Shepard winced, understanding how blunt the question sounded. "Sorry, that didn't come out quite as I planned."

"That's quite alright. I wouldn't say that I feel nothing. But years of training have allowed me to keep my emotions contained. Justice must be unbiased, free from the judgement of the Justicar tasked with carrying out punishment for the crime," Samara recited, turning to face Shepard.

"But don't you ever let yourself free from the Code? Even in private?" Shepard fought off the sudden urge to let his eyes explore Samara's body, a truly difficult feat given how exquisitely her opulent armour hugged her athletic figure. Her scaled armour might have appeared flimsy to the inexperienced eye, but Shepard had seen for himself what sort of punishment it could take, escaping even the most intense firefights with mere scratches. The deep plunge that fully displayed her cleavage only served to make his resistance far more difficult. "Surely you have time to yourself every now and then, outside of meditation."

"The life of a Justicar allows for little in the way of personal time. Once we complete one mission, we're immediately sent on another," Samara replied, spotting the look of disbelief that appeared on the Commander's face. "Why? Is it truly so difficult to believe?"

"A little," Shepard hesitated, trying his best to not offend a woman he knew could throw him through the solid steel wall with disturbing ease. "When I was still working for the Alliance, I was one of the most by the books soldiers you could meet, and I sure as hell didn't slack when it came to carrying out my duties. But once I went off on shore leave, I lived it up, hit every club across Alliance space. What I'm saying is, even the most dedicated soldiers need to unwind occasionally."

"I find peace from my meditation," Samara said, before letting her gaze drop for the first time, "it's one of the few freedoms I entitle myself to."

"And don't you ever allow yourself to do more?" Shepard gently pushed the subject. "You're six hundred years old, Samara, that's barely the middle age for the asari, you must feel certain urges?"

"I will concede that there are times where I feel certain... desires," Samara admitted, letting her blue eyes jump back up to meet Shepard's. "As much as I try, even I can't always prefent the natural urges of my body from rising to the surface of my mind."

"And you haven't tried to act upon them?" Shepard asked, closely watching the subtle sway of of her hips as she stood in place. "You said that you couldn't allow yourself to have a relationship because of what happened with Morinth, but that doesn't mean you have to stop yourself from having sex with no strings attached, a hook-up of sorts. Sometimes, sex is just sex, nothing more. The relief it brings is immense."

"A tempting suggestion," Samara nodded, "but my current location makes 'hooking-up' difficult. If I was to engage in coitus, it would have to be committed with someone I knew I could trust to not pursue anything beyond intercourse. Someone mature enough to provide me with the relief I need. If you're willing, I believe that you fit the criteria, Shepard."

"Me? You want me to help you? But what about your vow? You said that if I forced you to make you do anything against your will, you'd kill me after the mission was over," Shepard's eyes widened, yet he couldn't ignore the surge of blood that pumped towards his manhood at the thought of making love to the decorous Justicar.

"Correct, any attempt to subvert my free will would result in a most painful end to your life. Fortunately, I am the one making the proposition, Shepard. My vow to you will remain in tact in the event that we engage in intercourse should you agree to my suggestion," Samara took a few purposeful steps towards Shepard, as if she was daring him to turn down the most tempting invitation he had ever received.

"Well, in that case, who am I to turn down the chance to help out such a dedicated member of my crew?" Shepard smirked, unwilling to let the opportunity to be take the buxom asari slip from his fingers. "If you want, I can come up with an excuse to get you into my quarters, something about an 'intensive debrief'. The bed in my room is incredibly comfortable."

"I appreciate the suggestion, Shepard, but I believe that doing this in your bed is exactly the level of intimacy I wish to avoid," Samara let her gaze fall to the bench that Shepard was seated upon, "I think this room should suffice."

"If that's what you want," Shepard accepted her terms, not wanting to do anything to jeopardise the encounter. He opened up his omni-tool, using the remote function to seal the door, making sure that they weren't disturbed, especially by Jack. "So, how do you want to get started?"

"You can start by producing your manhood," Samara still maintained her indifferent disposition, even as she traced her fingers along the the seam running down to the crotch of her suit, separating the flaps until her azure breasts spilled free, and they were just as perfect as Shepard had imagined.

Shepard reciprocated Samara's action, unlatching his belt, fumbling around to grasp the small tab connecting his fly, swiping it downwards as quickly as he could. Shifting around, Shepard soon managed to pull his engorged shaft out into the cool recycled air of the deck, grasping it tightly with his fist, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the approaching asari. He kept a small gasp back when the front of Samara's suit fell open widely enough for her luscious sex to become exposed, already slick with her flowing juices. Given how quickly Samara had entered an aroused state, Shepard could finally tell just how long it had been since her last sexual encounter with another lifeform. It only made him more eager to please.

Taking her last few steps, Samara came to a stop in front of Shepard, gazing down at his member with a flicker of longing. Even the thoroughly trained Justicar couldn't keep her long neglected libido contained any longer. To his astonishment, Shepard watched Samara lean over and hover her lips over the tip of his cock, spitting a healthy amount of saliva onto it, expertly smearing it across the shaft, not leaving a single square inch untouched by her warm fluid. When their eyes connected once again, Samara's lips curled into an amused smirk.

"Please don't look so surprised, Shepard. I may have lived a chaste life these last few centuries, but I was still an adventurous maiden once. I know my way around a male's sexual organ," Samara responded to his unasked question, spreading her legs far enough to stretch them on either side of Shepard's. "Or his cock, if you would prefer me to be less formal."

She raised one knee and dropped it onto the seat's cushion, then planted the other down, until she had Shepard's thighs pinned between hers, moving her hips around to line the slick cock up with her dripping wet entrance. Linking her fingers around the back of Shepard's neck, Samara dropped her weight, sinking by a few inches, until she felt the cock-head tickling her lower lips. No matter how much time passed, the prelude to sex never failed to send a thrilling wave right to her core. For the first time in a long while, the Justicar allowed her body to drive her on.

"Are you sure you're ready, Shepard?" Samara asked him, only to have Shepard move his hips, pushing his tip through her slit. "I've been known to put my lovers through their paces. I don't wish to sound ominous, but I overwhelmed more than a few krogans when I was still in my sexual prime, reduced them to little more than devoted husks."

"I'm looking forward to that, Samara," Shepard grinned, placing his hands on her ass, guiding her down by another few inches, shuddering when he walls started to envelop his member, surprising him by how wonderfully tight she felt.

"You were warned, Shepard," Samara refused to waste her precious time on childish teasing. Abruptly, the asari brought her body crashing down, impaling herself upon Shepard's cock without an inkling of hesitation, swallowing every thick inch.

"God!" Shepard dropped back against the seat, spotting the predatory gleam in her eyes, which visibly turned a shade darker as Samara began lifting and dropping her hips repeatedly, hugging his cock with a relentless grip. "I thought you said you haven't done this in a while?"

"Asari are far more in tune with our bodies than the other races, it speaks to us and we listen," Samara spoke with a distinct purr in her voice, shoving her breasts against Shepard's chest when she leaned into him, sliding along his pole. "As the archaic human saying goes, 'its like riding a bike.'"

The duo spent the first few minutes of their frantic thrusting fighting to assert dominance over the over, attempting to show off their own prowess. But it quickly became obvious that Samara had the upper hand, with her gyrations coming faster and harder than Shepard could handle, though he certainly didn't go down without a fight. Savouring every tiny moment, Shepard let his hands wander without restraint, fondling and caressing Samara's heavenly body, burning every delicious curve into his memory. Her squeezed her buttocks tightly, pulling her as close to him as he could.

Samara in turn only doubled her efforts, sinking down with a speed that could only be achieved by someone who had devoted so much time to maintaining and caring for her body. The unforgiving regimen of a Justicar gave her the physical condition that enabled her to so easily dominate the frequent womanizer she rode with reckless abandon, her tight hole contracted in a way that ensured that Shepard could detect even the slightest of thrusts.

"So much for you being rusty," Shepard chucked, throwing his hips up as hard as he could, but knew that competing with Samara was rapidly becoming a pointless effort.

"You can starve us of physical pleasure for centuries, but we're always ready for when it comes," Samara whispered, brushing her full lips against Shepard's ear, undulating with rhythmic precision.

"I can tell," Shepard grunted, clamping his fingers around her waist, feeling his climax approaching like a runaway freight train. "I just can't keep this up, I'm so damn close!"

"Then submit to your body's demand, Shepard," Samara compelled him, nibbling his ear delicately.

She leaned back so they could be face to face, close enough for their eyes to be their sole focus. Suddenly, Samara's clear blue eyes morphed into seductive black pools drawing every ounce of his attention to them, making him want nothing more than to do everything he could to please the divine beauty riding his lap. It was the first time Shepard could see Samara as the mother of a woman who could bend entire settlements to her will, enslaving them until they revered her as a goddess. But that awareness wasn't enough to stop Shepard from wanting to offer Samara everything he had to give.

"I'm ready," Shepard groaned, straining to keep his hips moving, churning his cock against the asari's enticing depths.

"Good, Shepard. Embrace eternity," Samara forced her lips against his, running her nails through his hair, sweeping Shepard into a trance as their thoughts merged.

Shepard felt Samara's own pleasure colliding with his, gasping mindlessly as pure bliss stirred deep in his mind. He barely registered the sharp convulsions that his body was subjected to, caused by the near explosive orgasm that Samara had brought him to. Jets of warm seed blasted into Samara's pussy, flooding her with as much sperm as Shepard's testicles could produce. It was unlike anything Shepard had ever experienced before. Feeling his eyes becoming heavy, the last thing Shepard saw before darkness consumed him was the satisfied glimmer in the black eyes staring unrelentingly into his.

~•~•~•~•~•~

Shepard woke with a sudden jerk, letting out a groggy snort as he looked around, blinking away the blur in his eyes. It took a minute before the memories came flooding back, with still open fly being enough evidence to prove that the act had in fact taken place, realising that Samara had caringly set him back against the chair. Straightening against the back support, he finally spotted the woman responsible for his almighty climax.

Samara had reassumed her meditative position on the floor of the observation deck, not displaying even the smallest shred of evidence of their sexually charged coupling. Her suit was once again in its pristine condition, and the asari wearing it was nowhere close to the haggard state Shepard found himself in.