Aftermath
G. L. Dartt
Pain struck her consciousness like a Reaper sweeping up prey, sharp and piercing, indicating cracks and possibly full breakage of bone along her ribcage, making each breath a chore. But she was breathing, so she supposed that meant she was still alive somehow, because surely being dead wouldn’t hurt so much.
She drew another breath, shallow, just enough so that she didn’t feel as if she was suffocating. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened. She had no helmet, so wherever she was, there was atmosphere. With an effort that nearly made her pass out again, she opened her eyes and was jolted unpleasantly when she looked up onto the ravaged curve of Earth set against the backdrop of stars and ships.
The best seats in the house.
She had said that as she and Admiral Anderson leaned back against the dais in the control room, located at the top of Citadel Tower, above the Council Chambers and below where the Crucible had been joined to the space station. Both so injured that neither believed they were ever getting up again. The battle for planet Earth had been laid out before them through the vast transparencies lining the room; ships being destroyed, deadly lances of gold and green and red beams slicing through space, drifting hunks of metal and smaller organic bits of people. Then the transmission from Hackett filtered through the comm and Shepard discovered that it still hadn’t been enough, that she had to do yet one more thing, accomplish one more task, make one last decision. A panel had lifted her up onto the roof’s docking port where she was met by the holographic image of a little boy claiming to be the Catalyst. Embodying the collective consciousness and memories of the Reapers, ancient machines that erupted from dark space every fifty thousand years to harvest the various civilizations that had evolved since the last time they’d wreaked havoc on the galaxy, the Catalyst had offered Shepard three options to end the cycle of destruction.
To control the Reapers by becoming part of them. To merge all intelligent life in the Galaxy, synthetic and organic together, thus bringing about a lasting if significantly alien peace. Or to destroy all synthetic life, meaning the Reapers would be no more. It hadn’t really been a choice. Shepard had been trying to destroy the Reapers for years, had sacrificed friends and enemies and on one occasion, her very life for that result. She had not hesitated in staggering up the ramp to the panel which, when activated, would send out a pulse to destroy every synthetic in the known galaxy.
Including the Enhanced Defense Intelligence of the spaceship Normandy, who often took the form of a female gynoid who could walk and talk and joke and possibly even love. EDI would have been destroyed in the pulse, along the Reapers and the Geth, and every other AI created in this cycle. Despite knowing that was part of the cost, Shepard had paid it in full. Because if she hadn’t, the cost would have been so much higher, billions, perhaps trillions, of lives, swept aside in the Reaper’s brutal programming to periodically cleanse the galaxy of organic civilizations in a misguided effort to bring order to chaos.
Perhaps chaos would still be the order of the day, if humanity and the other alien species didn’t learn from this horrific chain of events that had already cost millions of lives. Perhaps they would, as the Catalyst predicted, once more create synthetic beings that would inevitably rebel and destroy their creators, thus ending all organic life. But at least now, whatever happened in the future would be of their own making, not imposed upon them by some overreaching computer program created before most of the present-day species had even existed.
Shepard felt her breath catch and tears sting her eyes. She desperately did not want to cough, or sob, dreading what agony that would bring. Somehow, she managed to dredge up enough saliva to swallow back the guilt and sorrow that combined in an acidic regret that burned in her chest.
Of course, she had not expected to live long enough to feel guilt, for EDI or anything else. Through a series of events that still weren’t entirely clear to her, she had been brought back to life via some secret process known as the Lazarus Project. Operated by Cerberus, a human-survivalist paramilitary group headed by the enigmatic Illusive Man, it had left her comprised mostly of cybernetic parts. She’d expected that being more machine than human to have killed her when all other synthetic life was extinguished. Certainly, that was what the Catalyst insinuated would happen. Perhaps it had been lying. That wouldn’t necessarily be a surprise, but if it had been lying about that, what else had it been lying about? Were the Reapers really gone?
She tried to lift her head, tried to see what was around her, but the effort was too much and she slid into darkness once more.
“Someone’s still alive up there. I’m picking up a mass on my thermal imager. It’s reading red.”
The words penetrated the blackness and again she was greeted by pain as she surfaced into reality.
“Hang on, we’re coming,” a second voice, this one male, shouted to her from a distance. It sounded oddly familiar.
She cracked open her eyelids, looking around blearily. She lay on the remains of the dais, the metal cold beneath her head, chunks of the shattered control panel she had used to trigger the alien weapon piled around her. As if it and the roof had collapsed down into the tower once the Crucible had fired. If that were the case, there was no way she should be alive. She should have been crushed, or at the very least, the mass effect fields should have failed, blowing her out into space. Yet not only had she remained relatively intact, there seemed to be a bubble of atmosphere surrounding her immediate area.
The sounds of footsteps winding through the rubble grew closer and then there was a sudden beam of light stabbing through the darkness. Two figures dressed in full space armor became visible through the dusty atmosphere until they were standing over her. Both were armed with heavy assault rifles, and one of them slung the weapon over his shoulder as he knelt down beside her. A face streaked with sweat, with sharp brown eyes, regarded her for a long second before widening in shock. He really did have kind eyes, she thought idly, discernable even through the yellowish shield of his battered helmet.
“Holy hell, she was right. It’s Commander Shepard.”
Yeah, she thought as she slipped once more into unconsciousness. That’s exactly who I am, and hell is exactly where I’ve been.
When she came to, she was moving, strapped inside a medi-pod and being carried through a corridor sparking with dangling cables and filled with the smoky haze from burning insulation. Looking straight up, she could see the stubbly chin of the man who had spoken to her earlier. He no longer wore his helmet and she must have made a sound because he glanced down with a startled expression.
“Hey, hold up.” Armando-Owen Bailey, a Citadel Security officer Shepard had worked with on many previous occasions, gently lowered the medi-pod to the deck. He knelt beside her and peered through the transparent shield of the pod. “Commander, you’ll be fine. We’re getting you to the hospital.”
“Where?” she croaked, or at least, hoped she did. It was entirely possible that all she made was a gargling noise.
“You’re still in the Citadel. We should all be dead, but there were emergency shelters here in the central ring with kinetic barriers that some of us managed to reach before the Reapers grabbed the station. We were able to hide from them.” He reached down and put his hand on the transparency, fingers spread wide as he stared earnestly into her eyes. “You did it, Commander. You destroyed them and saved the whole friggin’ galaxy. You’re a damned hero.”
Yep, that was her, a damned hero. Too damned stupid and too damned stubborn to know when to give up, Shepard thought as she slipped once more into the darkness. Or maybe just damned.
When she woke the third time, it no longer hurt, but she had that floaty, hollow feeling that could only originate from a heavy dose of painkillers. She wasn’t about to argue. Lack of pain was good and she’d accept being unable to think clearly for however long it took. Beside her bed, a machine displayed a great many alarming lights and graphs, undoubtedly scanning her vitals through the various wires and tubes attached to her body. The walls and ceiling were painted a soothing cream and were fairly clean, though as she turned her head slightly and looked out the nearby window, a thick yellowish fog shrouded the air, making it difficult to see anything clearly. The structures beyond were mere shapes, but from the look, she thought that she must be in the Presidium, perhaps even in Huerta Memorial Hospital, a structure located near the base of Citadel Tower, spanning the central botanical park that ran the circumference of the interior central ring.
Some kind of alarm must have been triggered upon her waking because the door to her room slid open and a woman wearing lab whites strode in. Reddish brown hair framed full features and piercing green eyes. “Shepard, good to see you’re still with us.”
“Dr. Michel,” Shepard managed to identify her visitor, horrified by how weak her voice sounded. “Glad to see you’re still with us, too.” She swallowed hard, her throat raw. “How bad?”
“You? Or the Citadel?” Chloe flashed a smile as she glanced over the data streaming across the tablet she was holding.
“Both.”
“Obviously there was a lot of internal damage done when the Reapers initially seized the station,” she explained with a hint of Paris in her tone, her eyes growing dark as her smile faded. “Then the Crucible disintegrated after firing, sending a lot of debris crashing into the outer docking bays and the Presidium. The wards were shattered.” She paused, dipping her head mournfully. “There weren’t a lot of injuries. People either made it here to the hospital on time or…”
“They died or worse, were processed into husks,” Shepard finished flatly. She glanced out the window, wincing again at the sight of what had once been a beautifully designed station that had housed more than thirteen million people. God only knew how many had survived. Or rather, how few. “Any news about the Normandy? How long since I…” She trailed off, not knowing how to say it. The last time she woke up in a hospital bed, two years had passed.
“It’s been a week,” Chloe said gently, to Shepard’s great relief. “Initially, we had you in a medically induced coma while your head trauma healed. Since then, you’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness. As for the rest of us, it’s been pretty chaotic. What comm systems we’ve managed to restore aren’t receiving any direct transmissions, only bits and pieces of what is being sent around the system. There’s very little actual news and a great deal of confusing reports. The mass relays were destroyed so right now everyone is doing their best to regroup. I’ve heard no information related to your ship or crew.” She paused, her gaze sympathetic. “I’m sorry.” She touched the screen of the tablet. “Now do you want to know about you?”
“Actually, I’m not feeling that bad,” Shepard admitted.
“Considering the amount of pain killers you’re on, that’s the idea,” Chloe told her, frowning. “You were in pretty bad shape, Commander. Frankly, you’re still in pretty bad shape. Broken bones, torn muscular and ligaments, ruptured organs, concussion, lacerations, contusions, burns—“
“What’s the good news?” Shepard interjected.
Chloe made a face, but she nodded. “You’re still alive. I’m not entirely sure how, but you are and for the moment, you’re stable.”
“Any idea how I survived?”
“None whatsoever. Perhaps where you were found was the most protected area in the Citadel Tower. It remained mostly intact, and subsequently, so did you.”
“But I wasn’t in the tower when the Crucible fired,” Shepard protested, “I was on the roof. How did the mass effect fields hold?”
The doctor shrugged. “I’m not an engineer, though considering how much of you is cybernetic, we could have used one in the operating room.” She tapped her stylist on the tablet. “Are you complaining about being the recipient of a miracle?”
Shepard stifled a sigh as she realized there were no answers to be found here. “I suppose I shouldn’t, should I?” She tried to lift her hand, and when that failed, she inclined her head. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Chloe smiled, suddenly looking a bit younger, just as she had all those years ago when Shepard first met her in a small clinic in the bowels of the Citadel wards. “You’re very welcome. In the meantime, there’s someone here who’s rather anxious to see you.” Dr. Michel stepped aside and motioned at a figure who had been lurking just outside the door.
For a brief second, Shepard’s heart lifted as she saw the blue skin and sweeping scalp crest, but then it sank again once she got a good look at the asari who entered the room.
“Aria.”
It didn’t hurt so much when she kept busy.
And she certainly was busy. When the Normandy had fled the Citadel at top FTL, barely staying ahead of the energy pulse emanating from the Crucible, most of the crew could only hang on for dear life, helpless to do anything more as they hung in their safety harnesses. When the pulse finally did catch up, the vessel shook violently enough that structural integrity was compromised and Joker had to divert to the nearest inhabitable planet, setting the ship down so hard that it was more crash than landing.
The planet, though possessing a breathable atmosphere and a semi-compatible environment for the crew, didn’t seem to be settled at all. Or perhaps all the settled areas had been harvested by the Reapers. In either case, they hadn’t detected any sign of civilization in the two weeks they had been stranded. Communications were still off line. And while they knew the Crucible had fired, and their sensors had recorded the demise of some of the nearest Reapers as they fled, they had no idea if they had all been wiped out, if the war that had devastated so many worlds had actually been won or lost, or if there was anyone else still alive out there.
Or what had happened to Shepard.
That uncertainty was a constant ache in the heart of Liara T’Soni. She had met Shepard years earlier in a Prothean ruin on Knossos in the Artemis Tau Cluster. At first, the Alliance commander had held a fascination for Liara because Shepard had been marked by the Prothean beacon on Eden Prime, but as time passed, they grew closer, a friendship at first before deepening into something so much more. Shepard had been the first person Liara had ever loved, and eventually, they’d become bondmates. Leaving her on the London battlefield had been the hardest thing Liara had ever had to do in one hundred and nine years of life, and if it hadn’t been for her own injuries and Garrus holding on to her, dragging her into the shuttle, she wouldn’t have left. She’d have rather stayed, even if it meant she would have died with her.
If indeed Shepard had died.
Certainly the odd had been against her survival, but Shepard had come through stranger and more dangerous situations. And wouldn’t Liara feel it through the bond they shared if Shepard no longer existed? Of course, Shepard was human, and the bond didn’t always hold true in other species, but Liara believed their love was strong enough to transcend the difference in their biology.
But what if she was wrong? What if the bond was imperfect and Shepard was indeed dead? Liara would go on, of course, because that was what the long lived asari did, but oh, how lonely and empty the ensuing years would be.
Blinking back tears, Liara refocused her attention on the display in front of her. Tali had the crew all performing different tasks as she headed up the repairs on the Normandy. After the first Normandy’s destruction and Shepard’s death, the current vessel had been built by the Cerberus Corporation as part of their plan to recruit the soldier into their service. After the events with the Collector ship, Shepard had turned it over to the Alliance. Undergoing a refit in the Alliance dockyards, Joker and EDI had stolen it, rescued Shepard from the devastating Reaper attack on Vancouver, and fled into space where Shepard would go on to unite all the civilized species, and build the greatest fleet the galaxy had ever seen.
But for now it was just fortunate they had Tali. Exiled from their homeworld by their synthetic creations, the quarians were known for their skills with technology, particularly when it came to maintaining their Migrant Fleet. Tali was used to keeping the most decrepit starships functional with the most basic of materials, and was extremely confident that making the far more advanced Normandy space-worthy again was only a matter of time.
Liara just wished they would repair the communication system so they could find out what was going on in the rest of the galaxy. Returning to space might no longer be an option.
“How’re we doing, Liara?”
Startled, Liara touched the wrong sequence, making the panel beep in complaint. She hadn’t even heard Ashley’s approach.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Ashley’s large dark eyes regarded Liara closely. As the next highest ranked Alliance officer and a Spectre to boot, Lt. Commander Ashley Williams had taken command of the Normandy in Shepard’s absence. She seemed to wear the captaincy well, at least when it came to the organizational side. Everyone knew what they were to do, when they were to do it and how important it was to pull together in order to get their ship off the ground.
“No, I’m sorry,” Liara responded. “I should have been paying more attention.”
Ashely put her hand on Liara’s shoulder. “You have every reason to be distracted,” she said sympathetically.
Liara thought that perhaps Ashley was trying a bit too hard to fill Shepard’s shoes. Shepard had a way of connecting on a personal level with her crew, and possessed the gravis to never appear obsequious by doing so. Ashley wasn’t quite there, especially since she didn’t possess a friendly and welcoming personality. But Liara appreciated the attempt.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You’re still recovering from your injuries, and you’ve been at that for a few hours now, Take a break. Go for a walk outside, get something to eat.” As Liara opened her mouth to reply, Ashley held up a finger, forestalling the protest. “I need everyone at their best.”
Liara inhaled and nodded. “I understand.”
She didn’t want to pause her work, didn’t want to have to take time to herself because then she would only start thinking about Shepard and the pain would return. But Ashley had been clear and even if she wasn’t the leader Shepard had been, she was in command and Liara needed to respect that.
Leaving the terminal and the lower deck where she’d been working, Liara made her way to the airlock and exited the ship where the heavy, moist air outside was like being slapped by a wet cloth. Blinking in the bright sunshine, she descended the ramp and wandered along the path that had been cut through the jungle from the crew’s comings and goings. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she knew of a place that might provide some solace for her. A small waterfall not far from the ship fed into a small pool, deeper in the jungle where it was unlikely she would run into anyone.
As she settled onto the warmed surface of a granite boulder, she forced herself relax, focusing on the sound of the nearby stream and the soft twitters of birds in the trees. As she did, memories crowded her mind, of she and Shepard sitting on a balcony in the Presidium Commons as Shepard urged Liara to reunite with her father. Of Shepard stopping by the Shadow Broker’s ship after the final suicide mission against the Collectors where she spent an evening talking about the people she’d lost as Liara tried to comfort her. Of one special night making love in Shepard’s quarters before they headed off to infiltrate the Cerberus base.
They’d never had the chance to spend a lot of time together while trying to save the galaxy, but that made the few moments they had shared as a couple all the more precious. Liara felt her breath catch, tears stinging the back of her eyelids and she closed them, not wanting to let any fall.
“Liara?” Once more Liara was startled. “May I join you?”
Tali’Zorah vas Normandy was all angles and slenderness beneath the form-fitting biosuit she wore. It covered her from head to toe, a necessity to protect her. Since being exiled to space and living generations on ships with filtered atmospheres, the quarian immune systems had become so depleted as to make them vulnerable to anything alien. They began donning full environmental suits outside their vessels at all times, which only made their immune systems weaker. Now it was at the point where they couldn’t even remove them amongst themselves within their home ships, wearing them from the time they were born until they died, usually from some form of viral infection.
Liara hesitated, and then dipped her head in assent. She didn’t particularly want company, but she didn’t really want to be alone, either. And Tali was a good friend.
“Please.”
Tali was carrying a tote and she placed it on a rock, opening it to reveal containers of food, including some asari wraps filled with cheese, meat paste and greenery. At Liara’s lifted brow, Tali’s body language became a bit sheepish.
“Ashley told me to make sure you eat something,” she admitted. “After she ordered me to do the same. She’s become a bit of a ‘worrywart’.”
A word picked up from Shepard, no doubt. Tali and Shepard had met on Tali’s pilgrimage, a rite of passage for all quarian. Throughout the years, Tali had become like Shepard’s little sister, and Tali had returned Shepard’s affection in full. She had to be as worried and upset as Liara was over Shepard’s unknown fate, and acknowledging the bond of a shared grief, Liara felt the pressure at the back of her mind ease a bit as she accepted the wrap Tali handed to her.
“Thank you.” She took a bite, chewing mechanically, not really tasting it. “How are the repairs progressing?”
“We’re good,” Tali said as she sipped her meal through an inlet port in her mask. It would pass through a few filters before it reached her mouth. “We had plenty of iridium and element zero stored in the cargo holds and the damage was mostly structural rather than within the internal systems.”
“Except for the ship’s AI program,” Liara said, and immediately wished she hadn’t when she saw Tali’s body tense unhappily. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, we’re all missing EDI,” Tali said morosely. “I never thought I’d say that about a synthetic, but it’s true. There’s just nothing that can be done. It’s not as if EDI was merely damaged. I could work with that and recover some of the data, rebuild her even if she didn’t turn out quite the same. But this is more like she’s been corrupted down to the very core of her base code. There’s no retrievable trace of her at all. Joker just doesn’t want to believe it.” She bent her head. “I don’t want to believe it. But whatever the beam did, wiping out everything Reaper related seemed to be the purpose.”
“The original Hannibal VI from Luna was infected by Reaper code when Cerberus recovered it and turned it into the Enhanced Defense Intelligence,” Liara said, thoughtfully. “Then she went on to integrate with the Reaper IFF before she took over the ‘Eva Coré’ gynoid, which was also based on Reaper technology, using it as her ‘body’ for more than a year.”
“Maybe the Reaper code is even why she transformed from a VI to an AI in the first place.” Tali sighed, audible even over the channel of her biosuit communication mask. “All I know is that she’s really gone, but I don’t know how to tell Joker that so that he’ll understand. He really loved her.”
“Until he’s ready to hear it, he won’t be able to understand anything about it,” Liara said softly. She dipped her head. “I know how he feels.”
Tali’s features were obscured by the face shield and the moist, white fog of her helmet’s internal atmosphere, but it seemed like she flinched. Certainly, her body language became more painfully angular.
“Shepard is still alive,” she said firmly.
Liara offered her a sideways glance. “You sound so certain. I wish I could be.”
“Shepard is like a narf’legh,” Tali scoffed. At Liara’s raised brow, she elaborated. “Like an Earth cockroach. A nuclear blast couldn’t kill her. Even when she does dies, she doesn’t stay dead.”
“I envy your faith.”
“Shouldn’t this be the other way around? Shouldn’t you be trying to convince me she’s alive?”
“I hope she is,” Liara said earnestly. “I even pray she is. But as a scientist, I also have to accept the empirical evidence.” She bent her head, shoulders slumping, feeling as if a heavy weight lay upon her. “Perhaps it is also because I’m asari. We live for so long and even if Shepard has survived, I know that I will lose her relatively soon no matter what. Perhaps I am merely preparing for the worst now, rather than fool myself any longer.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.” Tali nudged her slightly with her shoulder. “You know Shepard better than anyone.”
“Then maybe I don’t want to raise my hopes only to have them crushed beyond bearing later.”
“Well, you know what Shepard would say if she were here,” Tali said wisely. “Never give up hope.”
Despite herself, Liara felt a small smile curl her lips. “She would, wouldn’t she?”
“So don’t.”
Liara exhaled slowly. “All right,” she said. “I’ll try.”
“Still alive, I see.”
Aria T’Loak was an asari matriarch, several centuries older than Liara, and an outlaw to boot. Statuesque, beautiful and blue, her voice was hard and unyielding, even when she was trying to sound friendly, which she was undoubtedly attempting at the moment. Shepard regarded her warily, knowing that whatever the leader of Omega wanted, it probably wasn’t good.
“I am,” Shepard allowed cautiously. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I thought you would have left the Citadel long before the Reapers showed up.”
“Believe me, it wasn’t for lack of trying,” Aria told her as she took a companionable seat on the side of Shepard’s bed, jarring her body and sending shards of pain through her. At Shepard’s wince, she had the grace to look a bit regretful. “Sorry. I know you’re still in bad shape.”
Shepard took a few slow, deep breaths, grateful when the painkillers reasserted themselves. “What happened?”
“I was on my way to the docks when the Reapers popped into orbit,” Aria explained. “So we headed for the nearest bolt hole and hoped we’d be able to wait them out. Or find a way to slip out while they concentrated on destroying your planet. But you destroyed them, instead.” She shook her head, the whitish streaks adorning the contours of her scalp crest flashing in the light. “I will admit, Shepard, you continue to surprise me. That’s a hell of a thing, considering how long I’ve lived.” Her expression changed, becoming more predatory. “By the way, you should be thanking me. I was the one who dispatched a team to search the tower to see if there was anything left of you or the Crucible.”
More the latter than the former, Shepard suspected, though she didn’t respond immediately. Aria was angling for something, especially if she was trying to impose some kind of debt on her. They’d encountered each other on more than one occasion over the past few years, leading to a wary mutual respect. Shepard had even helped Aria regain control of the Omega station when Cerberus had taken it over during the war. She still wasn’t sure why Aria had returned to the Citadel afterward rather than remaining in the Terminus system. When Shepard had asked, she’d received a vaguely worded explanation about it being easier to coordinate Omega’s resources with the war effort. Not the best decision in light of the fact that the Citadel had actually been the missing component in the weapon they intended to use against the Reapers, or that the Reapers had taken control of the space station and towed it from the Serpent Nebula to Earth’s solar system for reasons that still weren’t clear to Shepard, though it certainly made it convenient when it came time to arm the weapon and fire it.
Not that it surprised Shepard that Aria was still alive after everything went to hell. The asari tyrant was the galaxy’s ultimate survivor. Nor did it surprise Shepard that Aria was ostensibly in command of what remained of the space station. She was a natural leader, a forceful and dynamic personality, possessing enough charm and intimidation in equal measure to assume control of any situation. It made her a powerful ally, but an extremely dangerous enemy.
“Thank you,” Shepard said, finally. “So you’re in charge of the Citadel?”
Aria let out her breath in a huff. “What’s left of it,” she explained. “Half of the station is completely gone while the other half is being held together with spit and medi-gel. Along with the Crucible debris field, there are dead and damaged ships drifting in the immediate vicinity, which may or may not collide with us, while Earth is nothing but a mess of desperate transmissions, all shouting at each other. I don’t think anyone’s really taken charge on the planet yet, though out here in orbit, Admiral Hackett seems to have the loudest voice so far. For now, his intact ships are responding to all the various distress calls.”
“The Council?”
“No representatives left alive on the Citadel,” Aria said. “Not that we’ve found so far, anyway. Meanwhile we’ve repaired some of the comm systems, enough to receive if not transmit at the moment. Subspace chatter from the asari, turians, salarians, and quarians indicate they’re all trying to stabilize their respective fleets. If they’re coming to any kind of consensus about what to do next beyond just trying to get home, they haven’t said anything. It’s complete chaos.” She stopped and then narrowed her eyes. “I kind of like it.”
“You would.” Shepard shifted and let out an involuntary yelp at the consequence. “In any event, why are you telling me? I’m hardly in any condition to help or hinder anyone at this point.”
“But you will be,” Aria said, and smiled, more a show of teeth than anything pleasant. “And whoever has you is going to be in a pretty powerful position.”
“Great,” Shepard said aridly. “What makes you think I’ll help just because you happen to be holding me prisoner?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” Aria said, holding up her hands defensively. “You’re not my prisoner. In fact, I’m honored, in my small way, to have saved the life of the Destroyer of Reapers, Savior of the Galaxy.”
“Cut the crap,” Shepard sighed. “What do you want, Aria?”
“The Normandy.”
Shepard perked up. “You know what happened to them?”
“I know the last sighting was of them hauling ass away from the Citadel and jumping to FTL out of the system ahead of the Crucible energy pulse,” Aria said. “If your knack for survival has rubbed off on them in even the slightest, they’ll be back before long to see what happened to you.”
Despite herself, Shepard felt hope rise in her chest. “And if they do?”
“I want you to take me back to Omega.”
Shepard blinked. “Is that it?”
Aria’s expression grew exasperated, apparently irritated at her denseness.
“Shepard, the mass relays have been destroyed! Every civilization will be focused on restoring the one in their home systems first. Even then, it could be years, maybe even decades, before any relays are fully repaired, and I can guarantee ours will be last on the list. There’s a reason Omega was a haven for my kind of people, far away from law enforcement and civilized expansion. It’s unlikely anyone will be headed to the Terminus Systems for a long time. But you and your ship could make an exception.”
Shepard took a few moments to consider that, looking at it from all angles. On the surface, it made a weird kind of sense. Aria held a particular connection to the rugged asteroid that housed the Omega station. It was home to the renegade asari on a visceral level that defied conventional wisdom.
“Aren’t any of the gangs returning to Omega? Why don’t you catch a ride with one of them?” Aria had consolidated a variety of mercenary groups, including the Blue Suns, Eclipse and the Blood Pack, into a single fleet, lending it to the war effort. It had been part of the deal she’d made with Shepard in helping her regain control of Omega.
“Because there isn’t a mercenary fleet left,” Aria said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “That’s what happens when you’re used as cannon fodder by the Alliance military.”
Shepard, about to protest, hesitated. It was entirely possible that Admiral Hackett would have utilized the outlaw gangs as frontline shock troops, deeming them highly expendable. “All right, then, will Omega be able to continue operation without a relay?”
“I’ll make sure of it.” Aria suddenly looked fierce.
Shepard sighed. “Aria, I’m still an Alliance soldier. What makes you believe I’ll have permission to travel all the way to Omega?” She did the calculations in her head. “At top FTL speed, it would still take a year to get there and a year for us to get back. It’s highly improbable they’d let me and the Normandy be away from Earth for that long.”
“Let you?!?” Aria leaned over her, her glacier blue eyes peering daggers at Shepard. “Don’t be stupid. You can write your own ticket after what you’ve done. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, no one is going to stop you.”
Shepard absorbed that. “Then why would I’d take two years out of my life just to take you home?”
“Because you owe me,” Aria reminded her. “You may have survived the battle in London, and you may have survived the backlash of the Crucible being triggered, but I can guarantee you wouldn’t have survived much longer, injured as you were, lying in what was left of a tower rapidly leaking atmosphere. Ask Dr. Michel if you think I’m exaggerating.”
Shepard knew she wasn’t. It was unlikely anyone would have thought to check on that part of the Citadel for survivors. In fact, it was unlikely anyone even knew where she and Anderson had been teleported when they leapt into that transport beam back in London. Aria was right, if she hadn’t dispatched a rescue team out as soon as she had, Shepard would have died. She did owe her on some level, as galling as it was.
“How did you even know where I was?” Shepard thought to ask. “Or that I might still be alive?”
Aria shrugged. “I put a biometric tracker in you,” she said. “In case I ever needed to find you again.”
“You did what?!?” Shepard was horrified. “When? How?”
“When you helped me retake Omega from Cerberus,” Aria said. She arched one brow. “When I kissed you? You remember that, don’t you?”
“I’ve been trying to forget,” Shepard said, her tone so acid, it would have burned through metal.
She tried very hard to ignore how her lips tingled at the memory. She loved Liara with all her heart, there was no question of that, but there was still a part of Shepard that found the hard, wild and unpredictable Aria incredibly attractive. It was the same kind of attraction Shepard held for danger and action and living life on the edge. It was part of why she was such a good soldier, part of why she was able to accomplish what she had. She thrived in situations that would destroy others. But heaven help her if Aria ever picked up on that guilty attraction.
“I can’t promise anything,” she said, finally, with great reluctance. “But if I have the opportunity, I’ll help you get home.”
Aria stared at her for a long moment, an evaluating expression on her face before she abruptly nodded. “Good enough,” she said, briskly. “You have a way of keeping your promises, Shepard, even when the odds are against it. I’m fine with that.” She rose from the bed, jolting Shepard again, albeit, with less force than when she sat down. “Get some sleep. You need to be mobile as soon as you can.”
“Your concern is touching,” Shepard grumbled.
Aria paused on her way out, looking back with an odd expression on her face. “I am concerned,” she told her with a sincerity Shepard hadn’t expected. “Why else would I put a tracker in you?” But before she could pursue it, Aria slipped out the door, which hissed solidly shut behind her.
Shepard pondered that for a few moments before weariness dragged at her. Knowing she had to allow herself to heal, she allowed her eyes to slide shut, already chafing at the time it would take for her body to repair itself.
When she woke again, a nurse was adjusting the IV bags on the pole beside her bed. Shepard felt more alert this time, less foggy, and realized the strength of the drugs had been reduced. Her first thought, as always, was of her crew and of Liara. They must think her dead. In fact, she wasn’t sure how many people, outside of Aria, Bailey, Dr. Michel and the people working in the hospital, even knew she was alive.
She assessed the nurse, a salarian, who seemed oblivious that his patient was awake. He actually jumped a little when she shifted and cleared her throat.
“Oh, my, you startled me, didn’t know you would wake so soon, shouldn’t have disturbed you.” Rattled off in one breath.
Possessing half the lifespan of humans, salarians were tall and slender, with narrow features, big, round eyes and dual hornlike appendages that sprouted from their heads. Warm-blooded amphibians with a hyperactive metabolism, they thought fast, moved fast and talked fast, making them somewhat jarring to be around. Shepard liked them, though. They were smart and funny and generally had a positive attitude, even regarding the most horrific things.
For a moment, she was reminded sharply of Mordin Solus, her friend and a scientist who had once been a part of her crew. He had sacrificed his life to spread the cure of the genophage, a biological weapon imposed on the krogan by the turians to keep their population controlled. The nurse, of course, didn’t look or act anything like Mordin, but it was still hard for Shepard to see a salarian and not picture the scientist. She missed him.
“Hi,” she said, schooling her tone so that he would slow down, just a little.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m better,” she said, and actually thought that might not be hyperbole on her part. It seemed that she could move a little, and that motion prompted soreness rather than pain. “Any word on the rest of the system?”
“No different from yesterday or the day before,” he explained as he smoothed her sheets and plumped her pillow. “Still confusion, still uncertainty. Much death and destruction throughout the system, but commanding officers of all fleets beginning to coordinate rescue and recovery. Still unable to transmit through comms, only receive. No one believes Citadel is still inhabitable when spoken of at all.”
“Any word on who might be in charge out there?”
“Not yet,” he said. “Aria in charge here.” He hesitated briefly, the salarian equivalent to conveying grave, personal reservation. “Smart, strong, competent. Securing supplies, searching for pockets of survivors, bringing things under control. Increasing odds of continued existence.”
“Yes, she’s really good at that,” Shepard said, not without grudging respect.
“Need anything, Shepard?”
Shepard looked around, realizing for the first time that she really didn’t have anything to do, no task to perform, no urgent mission to carry out. It was the first time in a long time she really wasn’t needed anywhere.
“No, I’m good,” she said, mulling over this new revelation, not without apprehension. “A book to read might be nice.”
“Bring a tablet for you,” he promised before bustling away.
Shepard supposed that was the most she could look forward to in the immediate future.
“I don’t want to do this,” Joker said, staring balefully at Ashley.
“I’m not asking you to do anything,” Ashley said with a cool patience that didn’t come naturally to her. She really was trying, Liara thought. It was just too bad it was so obvious. Shepard never had to try, she simply was. “I think it would be good for the crew.”
Liara glanced at Garrus, who looked a bit baffled as to what to do next. While the Alliance crew looked to Ashley for leadership, unofficially, the non-humans on board tended to go to the ex C-Sec officer and Shepard’s closest friend for advice and instruction while the Normandy was stranded on this jungle world. The turians were known for their discipline and militaristic culture, so in a crisis, they tended to take charge. They were less adept at personal matters, particularly when it involved humans. After the First Contact War, some topics still remained sensitive in some quarters, and it was possible Garrus didn’t want to say anything that might incite xenophobic bitterness into an already tense situation, regardless of how well the mixed crew had gotten along under Shepard’s command.
Green scaled, with sharp, feather shaped protrusions sweeping back from his brow, Garrus tended to move his whole head when he spoke. “Perhaps it’s still a bit too soon to contemplate a ceremony of this type,” he suggested mildly in his gravelly voice.
Ashley shot him a look, almost warning in her expression, before turning her attention back to the ship’s pilot. Jeff Moreau, or Joker as he was more commonly known among the crew, crossed his arms over his chest and glared back at her. Beneath the brim of his ball cap, his dark eyes were suspiciously moist, though the angry set of his bearded jaw indicated less sorrow and more fury at Ashley’s words.
They were all seated in the CIC conference room, around the long, narrow table. Initially, there had been no chairs, forcing everyone to stand when meeting for daily updates, but as Normandy’s repairs dragged on and the discussions over their situation became lengthier, Ashley had been prompted to make the space more physically accommodating, including the removal of the transparent walls, From her vantage point, Liara could see the door leading to the war room, of little use now because the war, according to the sparse transmissions coming through the repaired communications hub, was over.
“I think we need to do this before we lift off,” Ashley insisted from her spot at the head of the table. “Our people deserve to be honored.”
“We don’t even know if they’re dead,” Joker retorted harshly.
“EDI is,” Tali said and at Joker’s glare, lifted her hands. “I’m sorry, but she is. There’s nothing left of her personality or her code anywhere on the ship. The gynoid is being maintained in engineering, but at this point, it’s utilizing resources for no good reason. There’s nothing to fill it. You do EDI no honor by keeping that empty shell functional.”
“Tali is right,” Ashley said, forestalling Joker’s retort. “I’m ordering it be turned off. After the Crucible was fired, it disintegrated, which nearly obliterated the Citadel. Somehow, they managed to find Anderson’s body floating in space and while they’re still searching for Shepard as best they can, they may never recover her body. We just have to accept that.”
Liara bowed her head, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall as beside her, comm specialist Samantha Traynor stifled a sob. Liara had always suspected the beautiful young human had nursed a massive crush on Shepard though, to her knowledge, she had never pursued it nor had the commander ever encouraged it.
“We need to put their names on the memorial wall on the crew deck,” Ashley insisted. “We need to let the crew mourn.” She glanced down the table. “We all need to mourn.”
“Do what you want,” Joker said harshly. “You will anyway.”
Ashley took a breath, looking tired. Liara was sympathetic, but lacked the will to offer any comfort. She hurt too much. Contrary to what she had told Tali a few weeks earlier, she had nurtured hope, had really believed that Shepard had somehow survived, had honestly thought they might find their way back to each other again. But when the transmission from the Alliance updating the damage done to the Sol system had finally come through, it displayed a view of the shattered Citadel drifting in space, twisted and mangled, dark but for a few very tiny and isolated lights in the central ring that were probably little more than the feeble remains of emergency power cells on an otherwise dead station.
Liara’s bond with Shepard had been imperfect. She had not felt her death, but there was no way Shepard could be alive after that, especially since the Crucible itself was completely gone.
“The ceremony will take place at 1900 hours this evening,” Ashley said quietly. “I hope you’ll all be there. We’ll lift off tomorrow at 0800. Dismissed.”
Silently, they filed out of the conference room, leaving Ashley sitting alone at the table, splitting up toward their respective areas. Inside her cabin, Liara found the quiet almost unbearable. Glyph, her VI, was still offline so she didn’t even have that to talk to. Not that she would have much to tell it. What was there to say?
She sat down on the foot of her bed. On her left, the console of display screens that were normally filled with transmissions coming in from her multitude of agents, conveying the information that made the Shadow Broker one of the most powerful individuals in the galaxy, were mostly black, with little to no data trickling in. Most of her agents were probably dead, and it was unlikely there was much to report from the ones that were still alive. Hey, here I am, where I’m located is a complete mess and I don’t know what to do next?
Liara already had that information. She was living it.
She could always go back to her homeworld, she supposed wearily. Thessia would need all its people to help rebuild, and perhaps she could find some kind of purpose in that. A chime at her door interrupted her thoughts, and she lifted her head unwillingly.
“Yes?” Her tone was unwelcoming.
“May I come in?”
The reverberation of Tali’s voice made Liara sigh. “Very well.”
Tali slunk in, glancing around the cabin briefly before taking a seat at the work console, swiveling the chair so that she was facing Liara. Every angle and line of her posture indicated sorrow and distress. Yet, for all that, she was there to see how Liara was doing, to offer comfort if she could. Liara’s fondness for her grew.
“Are you all right?”
“I will be,” Liara said, knowing it was true, yet hating herself a little for it. “You?”
“I find it so hard to believe,” Tali said. “She’s come through so much.”
“I know, but she had always been willing to sacrifice her own life if it meant defeating the Reapers,” Liara said, feeling the grief squeeze like a fist in her upper chest. “The fact that we all survived when she couldn’t…well, that would only bring her joy. I’m sure her spirit is at peace now, wherever that may be.”
“I try to think like that,” Tali said sadly. “But I just miss her so much.”
That was more than Liara could take. “Oh, Goddess, so do I,” she said, voice catching in a sob.
Immediately, Tali was across the room and hugging Liara tightly as she broke down, patting her gently on her scalp crest with her dual fingered hands, muttering words of comfort that were mostly quarian and broken whimpers, all the while doing her best to support the larger frame of the asari. The two rocked together in their mutual grief for several long moments, taking comfort in knowing that at least one other person understood how much they were hurting, because they were hurting just as much.
Finally, because no one, regardless of species, could weep forever, their sobs subsided and they pulled away from each other a little, though they remained leaning into each other, taking comfort in their physical proximity. Tali’s arm was firm around Liara’s shoulders, hugging her gently.
“Remember when we were chasing Vasir through Nos Astra?” Tali said softly. “You kept complaining about Shepard’s driving and she kept threatening to stop and let you take over?”
Despite herself, Liara laughed a little. “She was so frustrated that the vehicle didn’t have any weapons.”
“You said, ‘it’s a taxi, it has a fare meter’.”
“I remember.”
“And the party at her apartment,” Tali continued, obviously finding some solace in remembering the good times. Liara couldn’t blame her. They had been few and far between, and memories were all either of them had left. “She was so mad at us for making fun of her dancing.” She laughed, though it was tinged with sorrow. “She was such a terrible dancer.”
“She was, though it never kept her from dancing every chance she had,” Liara agreed, swallowing hard against the hurt in her throat. “And then later, she found you on the bathroom floor. You were so drunk. She told me you offered to have a threesome with us.”
Tali straightened, the helmet turning toward her. “I didn’t!”
“You did,’ Liara said, laughing more now, even as the tears continued to slide down her face. “She thought it was cute.”
“I don’t remember that,” Tali protested.
“You don’t remember a lot about that night,” Liara pointed out.
Tali hesitated. “That’s true,” she admitted finally, with a sheepish tone. “I certainly remember the next day. I thought I would die.” She looked down at her hands resting limply on her lap. “She made me a hangover cure. It tasted so bad, but it worked. I still don’t know how she knew how to make something that would work on a quarian.”
“That’s because she made a point of understanding the other species around her,” Liara said. “Even when they didn’t make the same effort to understand humans. It made her special and unique in the galaxy.”
They spent the next few hours reminiscing about their time with Shepard, and Liara learned a few previously unknown things about the woman she loved, holding each new piece of information close to her heart as if it was a precious jewel. Then it was time for the ceremony, and forcing herself to straighten her shoulders and stand upright, Liara joined Tali outside the elevator on the crew deck where the memorial board was kept. Here were the names of all the fallen who had served on the Normandy. David Anderson’s name was installed first, placed lovingly by Ashley. He had once commanded the Normandy, had in fact, been Shepard’s captain before handing the vessel over to her once she became the first human Spectre.
Then EDI’s name. Despite his obvious resistance, Joker was the one who placed the plaque. For a long moment, he lingered there, his fingers resting on the polished surface as he stared up at it, before abruptly turning and joining the rest, roughly shrugging off any attempt by his crewmates at comfort. Then it was Shepard’s turn and it was all Liara could do not to burst into tears. Samantha, Kenneth Donnelly, Gabriella Daniels, and Greg Adams were not so composed, all weeping openly.
Ashley lifted the last plaque, hesitated and then looked back at Liara. “Here,” she said gently, holding it out. “You should do this.”
Liara didn’t want to take it, but she did, taking a second to look down at the plaque as she ran her fingers over the engraved letters. She knew everyone would expect her to say a few words, find some way to honor Shepard in the manner she deserved. Liara lifted her head, smiling faintly through her tears because she knew Shepard would have been greatly amused at the thought of the shy and awkward Liara T’Soni, of all people, being expected to come up with the right thing to say.
Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, she turned to address the rest of them, wondering how she would find the words to convey her loss while not detracting from theirs. In the sea of sorrowful faces, she saw a yeoman slip through the crowd and put his hand on Samantha’s shoulder, pulling her near so that he could whisper something in her ear. The expression on the specialist’s face altered from sorrow into something that lit a fire in Liara, the blood rushing from her head so quickly that she became a little dizzy.
“Alive?” Samantha blurted into the expectant silence, dark eyes wide and suddenly glowing. “There are reports Shepard’s alive?”
To her great chagrin, Liara’s vision grew dark, spots appearing before her eyes as with her next breath, she fainted.
“So, I was finally able to put out the word that you’re still with us,” Aria said without preamble as she strode into the hospital room.
Shepard, awkwardly poised over a bedpan with the salarian nurse’s help, nearly missed. “Holy Christ, Aria! Do you mind!?”
Aria paused, her expression surprised, though Shepard wasn’t sure if it was at the sight of what she was doing or by her words. “Actually, no, I don’t mind,” she said. She took a seat in the chair at the side of the bed, turning it around to straddle it. “Why? Nothing there I haven’t seen before.”
“You know your problem, Aria,” Shepard spat through gritted teeth as the nurse helped her settle back into bed. “You have no couth.”
“Says the woman with her ass in the air and her hospital gown hiked up to her waist.”
“I need to shoot you.”
“Get in line,” Aria responded, unconcerned. “Take a number.”
The nurse, apparently having had enough of this interaction, scuttled from the room with the sloshing pan.
“So, how soon before you can get out of bed for that?” Aria asked cheerfully once he was gone.
“A couple of days, maybe,” Shepard said sullenly, belatedly pulling together her wits. She hated feeling flustered, but that’s what Aria did to her with ease. It was little consolation that she managed to do the same to the asari on a regular basis. “What do you mean you ‘put the word out’?”
“We finally managed to repair the comms enough to transmit and the first thing I did was let everyone know the Hero of the Galaxy is alive and well and on her way to making a full recovery,” Aria said. “Here on the Citadel with us.”
Shepard regarded her narrowly. “Why?”
“Because if everyone believes you’re dead, which frankly, everyone out there was starting to think, then maybe the Normandy doesn’t come back to Earth right away,” Aria said. “Maybe because your crew is half alien, they decide to drop everyone off in their respective systems before coming home. That would take forever.”
“You’ve heard from the Normandy?” Shepard hated how anxious she sounded, not wanting to appear so weak in front of Aria, but she couldn’t help it.
“Apparently they crashed on a planet in—“
“They what?!?”
Aria held up her hand in a placating motion. “Don’t worry, it was just a little crash,” she said. “No one died except maybe that synthetic thing.”
Shepard was stricken. “EDI didn’t die in the crash,” she mumbled. “She had Reaper technology. She was wiped when the rest were.”
“Oh, so there you go, then. No one died.” Aria said. “Anyway, they’ve been making repairs and from what I hear, they’ll be taking off soon. It’ll take them a month or so to get back. Apparently, they were only able to restore the most basic FTL drive. Plus, without a functioning VI, they have to do all their navigating the old-fashioned way.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Our comms still don’t have the range to transmit much further than Earth, but we’ve been able to hear all the unsecured transmissions flying around, including those deep space messages between the Alliance Fleet and the Normandy,” Aria said. “By the way, Anderson’s body was recovered by a salarian scout ship. I have no idea how he ended up being blown clear of the tower while you remained inside. Another miracle of mystic proportions” She studied her nails. “I thought you’d be happy that your people know you’re all right.”
“You didn’t do it for me,” Shepard said, without any heat. Just a weary conviction. “Anything you do, it’s for your own advantage.” She paused. “When’s the Alliance coming to retrieve us?”
“They’re not.” Aria’s expression grew darker. “No one’s getting on or off this station at the moment. There’s too big a debris field surrounding us. The only way would be to send through a small shuttle and I don’t think there’s a pilot around that’s good enough to try. But I have enough people in place to handle that.”
“Handle that?” Shepard repeated with some alarm. “You mean you’d fight an Alliance landing party? Why?”
“Not fight,” Aria protested. “Merely relieve them of their weapons and make it clear that you’re too injured to be moved at the moment. All very friendly.” She frowned. “After all, it’s not like they’ve offered much in the way of assistance. Everything we currently have on the Citadel, we restored on our own.”
“You didn’t restore anything,” Shepard scoffed. “This structure was just reinforced for this sort of thing, though I don’t know why. Whoever donated that money to get Huerta’s name on the hospital had some really weird stipulations in their bequest. It was just luck that you headed for this particular emergency shelter when the Reapers arrived. None of the others survived the Crucible’s disintegration.”
“Lucky for you, too,” Aria said, a touch of pique in her tone. “Someone still had to figure out what to do once it was over, including tracking down and rescuing your sorry ass.”
“And I’m suitably grateful,” Shepard said, mildly. “In any event, are you now claiming the entire Citadel as salvage?”
Aria waved that off. “Of course not. Who’d want it? It’s a pile of junk. It’ll take years to rebuild, and even then, without the Keepers, it would take a collaborative effort. Humans couldn’t do it by themselves.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate us.”
Aria pinned her with a look. “Oh, I don’t,” she said, her voice suddenly very serious. “But face facts, it’ll be every species for themselves for a while, with everyone rebuilding what’s theirs. No one does anything for anyone else unless there’s something in it for them.”
Shepard let out a sigh. “Even after all this, even after all the species in the galaxy came together as one to fight the Reapers, you don’t think that will carry over into peacetime?”
Aria shook her head. “I doubt it. Before long, the krogan will start acting up, the turians will slap them down, the asari will talk a lot while doing nothing and the salarians will build the weapons for all sides. That’s how it works. That’s how it’s always worked.”
“And us? Humans, I mean?”
Regarding her for a long moment, Aria’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted. “But I think you’re going to be a much bigger force in the galaxy from now on. That won’t make everyone happy.” She studied her nails again. “I’m sure there’ll be another war before too long. It’ll just be a matter of how profitable it will be.”
“I’m so glad you stop by for these little chats, Aria,” Shepard said, drily. “They’re so uplifting.”
“I’m just telling you like it is, Shepard,” Aria responded. “Just because you refuse to see it doesn’t make it any less so.”
“Don’t worry, Aria, you live long enough, I’m sure you’ll come around to my way of thinking.”
Aria snorted. “No one lives that long, not even the asari.”
Shepard just stared at her and to her surprise and secret satisfaction, she saw Aria frown and avert her eyes. She even made a sound in her throat, a sort of harrumph, and shifted uncomfortably in her chair before changing the subject so deliberately that Shepard nearly choked trying not to laugh out loud.
“So Liara T’Soni? The scientist on your ship. You and her are bumping uglies?”
“I’m not sure where you picked up that expression, but yes, she and I are bondmates,” Shepard said, swallowing back her smile.
Aria frowned again. “Bondmates,” she repeated. “T’Soni’s only a kid, still a maiden. They don’t bond.”
“According to her, we have,” Shepard said, suddenly a bit uncertain. She hated that Aria could do that so easily, make her doubt what she thought was certain. “We did it in London the night before the final battle. Afterward, I could sense her emotions. As far as I know, that’s a bond.”
Aria regarded her, an odd expression on her face. “That is a bond,” she said. “The real question is why?”
Shepard blinked. “Why? Because we love each other.”
“Lots of people love each other, especially maidens,” Aria scoffed. “They’re always falling in love and getting married, but they don’t normally bond, not this young.”
“She’s over a hundred.”
“Yeah, but that’s like twenty in our years. Would you really like being married to a twenty-year old? They’re so stupid at that age, young enough to think they know everything, and not yet old enough to realize they haven’t a clue.”
Shepard felt a flash of irritation. Clearly, Aria was trying to get into her head about Liara for some reason. She had no idea why. “Liara’s not like that,” she said, tightly. “She’s always been mature, never gone through the hedonistic phase that so many other asari go through. She’s spent her early maidenhood as an archeologist, and then as the Sha—“
Desperately, she stopped, horrified at what she had almost said. Aria, to her dismay, had not missed it at all. She had straightened in her chair, her brows raised and her eyes widened. If she’d possessed any sort of external ear structure, it would have pricked.
“Then as the what?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” Shepard said, cursing herself.
“You were going to say Shadow Broker, weren’t you?” Aria abruptly rose to her feet and started pacing. “Damn, I knew it. I just knew it. The whole tenor of that operation changed in the last year, but I couldn’t believe the rumors I heard. It was impossible, an asari that young taking over an operation that intricate?” She stopped and glared at Shepard. “Except that you were somehow involved, weren’t you? The impossible always happens when you’re involved.”
Despite herself, Shepard was a little flattered. “Maybe,” she said cautiously.
“It ran better than ever, and the information I bought was always good, unlike when her predecessor was running it.” Aria flipped the chair around and sat down again, propping her feet up on the foot of Shepard’s bed, every muscle of her long legs clearly visible beneath her skintight pants. “She did a good job. I’m impressed and as you know, I don’t impress easy. I take it back, Shepard. You have excellent taste in bedmates.”
“What, now that you think she’s a criminal, you approve?”
“She is a criminal,” Aria said, looking at her as if Shepard was being deliberately obtuse. “One of the best. Her operation spans the galaxy. I’m miniscule compared to her.” She shook her head. “You know, when she went after your dead body, most of the operation took place on Omega. I had a chance to see her in action and thought she was in over her head even though she got the job done. My mistake. I won’t underestimate her again.”
“Why are you even interested?” Shepard demanded.
A slow smile curled Aria’s full lips. “Because she suddenly became useful. Especially if she’s in love with you.”
Shepard felt fire abruptly flash along every nerve ending. “You go near her, and I will end you.”
She didn’t even realize what she was saying until it was out her mouth, or that every muscle in her body had tensed. Nor did she understand what her face and eyes suddenly looked like except by how Aria’s body language suddenly changed. She immediately dropped her feet from the bed and sat up straight in the chair, regarding Shepard warily.
“Easy, Commander,” she said, her voice unexpectedly even. “No disrespect intended. Sometimes I talk too much. You’d think I’d know better after all this time. I guess you bring out the worst in me.”
“Liara is off limits,” Shepard insisted, just to be clear.
“Understood,” Aria said. “We good?”
“For the moment.”
“I’ll let you sleep, then,” Aria said, and her smile was a little forced. She inclined her head slightly, and swept out of the room.
As the door shut, Shepard was left feeling a trifle impressed with herself. Somehow, half dead, unable to stand on her own, incapable of even lifting a gun at this point, she was still able to intimidate someone like Aria through sheer force of will.
She’d take that.
The Citadel looked even worse in reality than it had during the Alliance transmission.
Garrus and Ashley looked through the viewport of the Normandy’s starboard observation lounge, matching expressions of horror and trepidation on their faces. Tali was also there, and while no one could see her expression, Liara suspected it was equally as shocked. This was as close as the Normandy dared approach. There was so much debris and shattered ward remains drifting in the vicinity that even at this distance, the proximity alarms were glaring red on the panels, though Joker had thankfully turned off the sound.
“Do you really think we can get a shuttle through that?” Ashley asked dubiously. “It’s like a minefield, except the mines keep moving around, bumping into each other before going into completely different orbital paths. No nav comm I know can compute those trajectories.”
“Won’t be easy,” Joker grunted. He had limped his way down from the cockpit, wanting to actually see what he was facing in addition to what all the scans were telling him. “There’s a lot of crap out there.”
“Even the Alliance hasn’t tried to send a shuttle through,” Garrus pointed out. “What makes you think we can?”
“Because they don’t have me for a pilot,” Joker said, without any hint of bravado in his tone. It was simply a matter of fact.
“But do you think you can get through?” Ashley insisted.
“Only if we can find a way to boost the shields and increase the range of the dispel field. I’ll need every bit of help I can get. Even then, no real guarantees.”
“I can have the modifications to the shields done by tomorrow morning,” Tali said. “If Daniels and Donnelly will lend a hand.”
“I’ll see to it,” Ashley said.
“Who’s actually going?” Garrus asked in a practical tone. “I volunteer.”
“I do, as well,” Liara said in the next second. She was damned if she was going to be left behind. All she had done since hearing that Shepard was alive and recovering on the Citadel was imagine what seeing her again would be like. She wasn’t going to wait any longer than she had to and she hoped the glare she directed Ashley’s way conveyed that.
“Me, too,” Tali protested. “You’re not going over there without me.”
“I can’t take everyone,” Ashley said, a touch of exasperation flavoring her tone. “The shuttle isn’t big enough and I can’t leave the Normandy without all its senior crew.”
“Which is perhaps why you should remain here,” Liara pointed out. “You are the captain, after all.”
“No, the captain’s over there,” Ashley said, jerking her head at the viewport. “And we’re going to go get her back.” She took a breath and looked back at them. “I’ll have the duty roster set by morning. We’ll leave at 0800.”
“Should we let them know we’re coming?” Garrus asked. “I know you’re trying to keep a low profile with the Alliance, but we could contact the Citadel now that we’re in range.”
“It might be better not to let them know,” Liara suggested delicately. “Especially since, as we’ve determined, Aria T’Loak is in charge. She’s a very dangerous individual.”
“I didn’t get the sense she was holding Shepard prisoner,” Garrus said, his expression and tone vaguely puzzled as he turned his head to look at her. “And Aria’s always been an ally.”
“Only because it suited her purpose at the time,” Liara said with certainty. “No, the information coming out of the Citadel has made it perfectly clear that Aria has Shepard and is keeping her safe. What’s unspoken but certainly implied is that Shepard might not continue to be safe if Aria decides otherwise. That may also be another reason the Alliance has yet to move in. Not to mention the fact that we have no idea how many people are actually alive over there, some of whom will want off the station to the point of being violent. If you think you have little room on the shuttle now…” She trailed off as she offered a significant look at Ashley.
“Yeah, we don’t want a mob to overrun us with the thought that we’re there to rescue them,” Ashley said, looking determined. “I want this to be covert, quick and quiet. It’s what we do best.”
“What if Shepard hasn’t recovered enough to be moved?” Dr. Chakwas interjected suddenly. A diminutive woman with grey hair and sharp eyes, she had been sitting quietly in the corner, listening to the rest of the senior staff. “From what little medical information the Citadel has released regarding her condition, I don’t believe she’d be entirely mobile yet.”
“We can take along a medi-pod,” Ashley said. “They’re designed to get soldiers off the battlefield quickly and safely, regardless of condition.” She looked back out the window at the dark silhouette of the Citadel. “Power has only been detected on one place in the central ring, the hospital facility. I suggest we go in through a ward connection point and work inward.”
“Might be easier said than done,” Joker said. “They would have sealed off everything to preserve life support.”
“No, there must still be some way for them to get in and out of the hospital,” Liara said. “There’s too much they need to salvage from the rest of the Presidium, especially when they don’t know how long it will be before the Alliance can get them off the station. Plus, the very fact the building maintained life support when everything else didn’t indicates they have some kind of airlock seals on the entrances.”
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ashley said and with an abrupt nod, she left the observation room.
Tali and Garrus also drifted after Joker who strode angrily away. Joker did everything angrily now. He even ate angrily. He had never been the most genial, preferring sarcasm in most responses, but since EDI’s demise, he was short with everyone, bordering on insubordinate, and he made a point of being alone whenever he wasn’t in the cockpit. Liara hoped he would find a way to move on, or maybe Shepard could talk to him once she returned. Though it was possible Joker would blame Shepard for EDI’s corruption. Liara wasn’t sure what would happen in that event.
She sighed, deciding to worry about that when the time came. In the meantime, she returned her attention to the drifting hulk in space, readying her mind for what lay ahead.
The next morning, a quick check on her console revealed that she was listed for the boarding party, along with Garrus and Tali. Undoubtedly there had been plenty of volunteers among the crew, and hopefully, there would be no hard feelings that Ashley had chosen an all alien squad for the mission. Then it occurred to Liara that as a Spectre, Ashley was somewhat outside Alliance command, and by using all non-Alliance members in the party, there would be no repercussions for boarding the Citadel, displaying a grasp on politics that Shepard occasionally lacked. Liara approved. Regardless of how long it would take for the various civilizations to rebuild to their previous positions; politics would always remain involved.
Down in the shuttle bay, she and the rest picked up their weapons; assault and sniper rifles for Ashley and Garrus, pistols and shotguns for Liara and Tali. The latter had abilities that were far more useful than guns, so it didn’t make sense for them to lug around heavy weaponry when they didn’t need them to be efficient. Or deadly.
Inside the military grade battle shuttle, Liara tried to slow her pounding heart, anxious not because she might be killed as they flew through the debris field, or that she might be going into battle against Aria T’Loak, but because she would finally be seeing Shepard again.
“All right,” Ashley said, hanging onto the roof and swaying with the shuttle’s motion as it left the Normandy’s hanger. “We’re going comm silent. We don’t want any of Aria’s people to pick up on our transmissions. We’ll pick our way through the central ring until we reach the hospital, retrieve Shepard and retreat back to the shuttle. If we’re lucky, we’re in and out before anyone notices.”
“And if someone does?” Garrus asked.
“We’re using concussion ammo,” Ashley said. “Non-lethal. But if anyone because really determined to stop us, we’ll have to convince them otherwise. Understood?”
“Aye.”
“Yes, Lt. Commander.”
“Understood.”
From the front of the shuttle, Joker threw a glance over his shoulder. “You’d better strap in. This is going to get wild.”
Ashley hastily took a seat on the bench lining the bulkhead and pulled the harness over her body. Liara and Tali, already secured, snugged the straps tighter while Garrus made sure his sniper rifle was well protected. The next few moments were a misery for Liara and from the gulping sounds from the others, not much better for them. It was like being in the worst of an amusement park fun ride, all swoops and G-forces, exacerbated by the small ship they were in as Joker weaved his way through the drifting debris. Occasionally, there’d be an unpleasant bang or thump on the hull from smaller, unavoidable chunks, and more than one shudder through the vessel when it encountered larger ones. Fortunately, they didn’t collide with anything the dispel fields and shields couldn’t handle. Of course, if they had, Liara would only have a second to register it before going up in a massive ball of flame and explosive decompression.
Finally, just when Liara though she would completely embarrass herself and lose her breakfast, the flight smoothed out.
“Inside the ward dispel field,” Joker reported. There was a pause. “My God.” For the first time, there was no anger in his tone. Only a horrified astonishment.
Unstrapping from her seat, Liara joined the others in looking out the tiny portholes to see the massive devastation of the ward beneath them, shattered shells of towers, darker slashes of collapsed structures, ragged craters from debris impact, and the blackened, frozen vegetation in small parks exposed to the unforgiving vacuum of space, barely illuminated in the eerie blue light of Earth’s reflection. The destruction stretched for kilometers as they flew down the length of the mangled ward, just below the external limit of the dispel field, and the knowledge that the residential and commercial area of the station below had once housed millions of people made Liara sick in a way the nausea inducing ride through the debris field could not.
As they approached the end of the ward where it connected to the central ring, Joker descended closer to the buildings, using them as cover until he found a relatively flat section near the upper slope, clear of any rubble. Liara sealed her helmet, her suit hardening into a space protective armor as they left the shuttle, stepping down onto the frozen metal, the magnetic fields in the soles of her boots activating.
“Zero G,” Ashley said, her voice tinny over her internal helmet comm. She had it limited to a radius of only three meters, a distance that would be shortened to zero as they approached their target. “Not much wonder the area was clear.”
They looked up to see the rubble drifting overhead, including bodies, dark forms of what had once been living, breathing beings. Some were significantly smaller than others and resolutely, Liara turned her gaze back to the ground.
“Without rotation, the gravity fields are out,” Tali said. “But the Presidium still has one engaged near the connection access.” She pointed to their destination. As they watched, one of the pieces of rubble drifted that way and abruptly dropped, exploding silently as it impacted the ground just in front of the ward terminal.
“We’ll have to be careful,” Garrus reminded. “The first step is always a doozy.”
Liara winced and reminded herself to adopt the spacer glide. Going from 0 G to 1.02 made it easy to shatter bone if one didn’t take care to slide rather than step into it. Shuffling along, they entered the section where gravity was maintained, the sudden sensation of added weight nearly toppling them. But it was easier to walk here, even if there was a lot more rubble to step around and over. Looking up at the massive circle looming above her just before she entered the terminal, Liara felt her heart sink as she picked out the few, very tiny lights that twinkled along the interior, solitary flashes of power in the otherwise dark structure. The rest of the internal ring, barely visible through the transparency enclosing the roof, was shrouded in some kind of yellowish haze and Liara realized the lights were actually from the very top of buildings, hazard beacons on rooftops to ward off shuttle traffic. From their vantage point, they were actually looking down onto where the survivors were holed up, but the gravity made it seem as if they were looking sideways, midway up the slope of the inner ring.
It took a while to work their way through the wrecked terminal building, skirting wrecked shuttles and shattered lobbies, before reaching the area where the elevators into the central ring were located. They weren’t operable, of course, but the shafts they used were still intact, and according to their respective omni-tool display, still maintaining atmospheric pressure. Utilizing two mass effect generated fields, Tali was able to jury rig a kind of air lock, allowing them to crack one of the elevator doors and enter a shaft before resealing it behind them. Liara hoped they wouldn’t be in a hurry on the way back because that would result in a rather explosive exit.
The readouts on her helmet display showed the Presidium atmosphere was far too low in oxygen to be breathable. It was also filled with a varied collection of toxic fumes from leaking plasma coils, burnt plastics and metals, along with the dispersed alien atmospheres from various private homes, businesses and embassies, all combining to create a golden fog so thick they could barely see where they were going. This then, was the haze she had seen cloaking the interior ring. They could hear again though, every thud of their boots on the deck, the swish and creak of their space armor, even the sound of their exhalations within their helmets loud after the silence outside.
There was no chatter, no snarky comments. Silent meant silent. Besides, Liara didn’t have much to say. She was too busy trying to think of what words she would offer Shepard.
Once she finally saw her again.
“Wake up.”
Jolted from sleep, Shepard blinked blearily in the dim lighting of her hospital room. Aria was standing over her with a large pistol in her hand and for a few seconds, Shepard had a very bad feeling.
“What’s going on?”
“A shuttle landed near the ward connection nearly three hours ago,” Aria said tersely. “There are intruders in the central ring. I need your help.”
Shepard was already pulling on her armor. Over the past month, she’d made a remarkable recovery, no doubt in large part to the varied cybernetic parts and nano-technology Cerberus had implanted. She remained in her hospital room because there wasn’t any place else for her to go. The hospital was housed within the only structure in the Presidium that had maintained its atmospheric integrity, as well as functional power cells for heat and lights. The rest of the Presidium’s air had become so contaminated, they had to use space armor and go through an airlock when retrieving additional supplies. Aria, the medical staff and a few competent and skilled individuals that served as her top lieutenants, including Bailey, were staying in the main medical center itself, while the rest of the refugees were spread out in the adjoining structure. They had yet to reclaim anything beyond the single building and frankly, really didn’t need to. Too few had survived the Reapers attack, and subsequently, the Crucible’s disintegration.
“Who?” Shepard said, strapping a pistol to her waist and snatching up her assault rifle.
“Don’t know,” Aria said bitterly. “The Alliance wouldn’t attempt a pass through that debris to help us out, but some ambitious asshole is taking the chance to do some looting.”
“You really think it’s looters?” Shepard trotted behind Aria as she and the rest of their team, including Bailey made their way to the airlock leading to the landing zone located in front of the hospital’s main entrance. Abandoned and wrecked personal shuttles littered the lot, some piled three high in a heap along the wall of the nearest remaining structure, a collapsed shopping mall.
“Who else would show up without knocking?” Aria said. “Don’t underestimate how much valuable stuff is just lying around. But I can’t figure out how they made their approach vector without us knowing. They didn’t come up from the planet and we’re not reading any larger ships in the vicinity. It’s like they just appeared out of nowhere.”
Shepard missed a step. “You wouldn’t have read their approach if it was the Normandy. That’s the whole point of stealth technology.”
Aria and the rest of the team stopped, turning to face her. The asari’s eyes were narrowed. “Stealth?”
Shepard shrugged. “We didn’t use it around Omega or the Citadel,” she said. “No reason for you to know about it. Besides, it’s classified.”
“Why wouldn’t they just let us know they’d arrived?” Aria appeared completely baffled.
“They’re probably intent on breaking me out of your custody,” Shepard said with a grin. “You haven’t exactly been circumspect in your reports to the Alliance of how you saved my life and plan on keeping me safe on the Citadel.”
“I thought they’d be grateful!”
“Not when it’s heavily implied that you expect something in return.”
“Of course, I expect something in return!” Aria said, frustration readily apparent in her tone. “At the very least, for someone to get us out of this big metal coffin and back on the planet where we don’t have to worry about our atmosphere giving out at any moment.” She inhaled, visibly calming herself. “You really think it’s them?”
“It’s been more than a month,” Shepard reminded her. “We need to send out a message and let them know they don’t have to come in loaded.” Shepard was already dialing up her omni-tool. “Patch me through the comm relay.”
She’d been willing to bide her time as she healed and waited for the Normandy to arrive. The Alliance had continued to insist it was too difficult to get to them through the debris field surrounding the station, not that Shepard could blame them for it. The people on the Citadel weren’t in immediate danger, which put them far down the list of other, more pressing emergency situations facing the Alliance brass. Though she had a sneaking suspicion there were plans being put in place for her once things settled down. Plans that made her head hurt and her chest feel tight as if she were suffocating.
It made being trapped on the Citadel where she had a warm bed, decent food, hot water for showering and an interesting if mercurial companion in Aria with which to converse seem almost appealing. But now her ride was here and it was time to get on with things. Aria regarded her a moment, suspicion in her eyes, but then abruptly nodded and put her finger to her aural crest, activating her comm. “Give Shepard access to an external comm.”
Shepard keyed her omni-tool. “Normandy, this Commander Shepard.”
“Shepard? Are you all right?” Samantha’s dulcet tones were like music to Shepard’s ears. “What’s going on over there?”
“I’m fine,” Shepard said with assurance. “Listen, has a recovery team been dispatched?”
There was a pause on the line. Then another voice came over the channel. “Citadel, this is Lt. James Vega. How do we know that’s not the Shepard VI program?”
Shepard blinked, and then had to acknowledge they had no way of knowing the situation. “Because there isn’t enough power over here to waste on something like that.” She searched for something else to say to prove it was her. “Besides, Lola don’t play that way.”
Another pause, and then relief in the voice at hearing the nickname that he had given her. “Commander, I can’t tell you how good it is to hear from you. You had us all a little concerned.”
“I understand,” Shepard said. “But listen, James, if you have a team on the ground, you need to tell them to stand down before a misunderstanding arises.”
“We would, Commander, but the capt—Lt. Commander Williams has her team in complete comm silence so that no one over there can track any transmissions.”
“Damn it! What about backup, or their line of retreat?”
“We can’t get to them,” James said, with a touch of sheepishness. He knew how that would go over. “Joker took our only functional shuttle and the debris field is too thick to maneuver the Normandy.”
“Who authorized that!” Shepard demanded hotly, forgetting for the moment that not only had she conducted similar missions to retrieve missing crewmembers, but that she was technically no longer in command. She took a long, slow breath. “Do they know where I am”
“We heard you were recovering in the Huerta Memorial Hospital. That’s where they’re headed.”
“The hospital is where we’re all staying,” Shepard said, exasperated. She thought about it for a few seconds. “Okay, there’s an easy solution. We just let them through with no resistance. But James, I want the Normandy prepped to receive refugees. I’m not leaving anyone behind. We need to get everyone off, regardless of how many trips it takes in the shuttle.”
“Uh, is that wise, Commander?”
“It may not be wise, but it is how it’s going to be,” Shepard said. “Shepard out.” She looked at Aria. “Okay, we’ll keep our people back, and give the Normandy team a straight shot to the hospital. They might become suspicious, but they still have to come here. The only way to move through the Presidium now with any kind of speed now is to reach the botanical section. They’ll probably make their way there as soon as they can and travel along the lake shore until they reach this area, then they’ll move inland up the access ramps. Once they’re in the landing zone in front of our only entrance, we can stand them down and disarm the situation.”
Aria’s eyes had narrowed considerably as she shifted her weapon to point, if not directly at Shepard, then in her general vicinity. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.”
Shepard sighed, leaving her rifle in its relaxed position. “I think you’re forgetting that your team here is made up of two other Alliance soldiers, a previous member of C-Sec and a Batarian, who is probably smart enough to know which way the wind has suddenly started blowing.”
Aria glared at her for a second, then looked around at the rest of the members of her party. The rest all stared back at her stoically, except for the Batarian who averted all four of his eyes sheepishly. “Sorry, Aria,” Narl mumbled. “I just want off this pile of junk.”
“Fine,” Aria said finally, holstering her pistol. “Been planning this awhile, have you Shepard?”
“I haven’t planned anything, Aria,” Shepard said, not unkindly. “You’re an amazing administrator, and frankly, if this was a case of invading looters, everyone here would be glad to let you take the lead. But this is the Normandy. Of course, people are going to look to me to handle it because your reputation for, shall we say, ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ makes you a liability. Why would you expect anything different?”
“I won’t forget this,” Aria promised and shot the other four a vicious look. No one, except perhaps Narl, looked particularly concerned.
“Aria, if I take you back to Omega, we’ll be isolated on the same ship for over a year,” Shepard added, honestly puzzled. “How did you think that would work? Of course you’d be under my command. Let’s be clear, my ship, my people, my rules.”
Aria held up her hands. “All right,” she said. “You’ve made your point. I’m not disagreeing.”
“So what do we do, Commander?” Bailey holstered his pistol. Tough, impartial and a trifle unorthodox, he was someone she trusted implicitly, knowing he’d have her back without ever having to talk to him about what she was doing. “Your team might come in hot.”
“Not if there isn’t any provocation,” Shepard said. “We need to tell everyone to remain in their rooms. Meanwhile, we’ll set up position around the parking zone, make it apparent we’re there so that they know the entrance is guarded. Hopefully, they’ll recognize me before they try to take anyone out.”
“That’s too risky,” Aria protested. And lest Shepard think it was out of personal concern for her well-being, she added, “Without you, I don’t have any leverage.”
“I know my people, and all their moves,” Shepard said patiently. “The rest of you just need to stay out of the way and stay safe. And whatever you do, don’t even aim at them. They’ll only shoot you and believe me when I tell you, they’re a hell of a lot better at it than you are.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the Alliance soldiers, a woman named Elissa Cousland said with a sharp salute. She was fast, smart and deadly accurate with her sniper rifle. Shepard rather liked her, and wouldn’t have minded having her as part of her crew on the Normandy.
“Uh, what about…” the other soldier, a young man named Allister, who tended to defer to his companion, hesitantly motioned in Aria’s direction.
Shepard fixed her attention on Aria. “You need to trust me,” she said intently. “Just as I have trusted you in the past. That’s the only way any of this will work.”
Aria, who had looked very unhappy until that point, seemed to relax a little. “All right,” she said. “Narl and I will take up position on the balcony above the entrance. Visible, but not obvious.”
“Good,” Shepard said. “I’ll take the overturned shuttles by the collapsed elevator access. That’s the route they’ll take to the airlock. It has lots of concealing cover all the way. Cousland, you and Allister take up positions flanking the parking zone. Hide, but not too well. Bailey, you’re just outside the airlock. Walk around, create a reasonable amount of motion, be very visible. Give them pause to look over the situation.”
“How long before they get here?” Narl asked.
“They’ve been on the ground for more than three hours,” Aria said. “It takes about five hours to make it here on foot, longer depending on how many obstacles they have to go around to get from the ward connection access to the botanical section.”
“Then we enjoy a cup of coffee while we wait,” Shepard said. “And hope they haven’t come up with another way to get into the building.”
Ashley held up her fist, indicating for the squad to drop into cover which they did immediately, seeking shelter in whatever concealment they could find. They’d been skulking along the banks of the lake, trusting that the thick smog and trees would mask their movements, but now they were within a few hundred meters of the structure where the hospital was located. They would have to ascend several open grassy levels before reaching the sidewalks and the designated landing zone in front of the facility. Scans had indicated this was the only entry point, an airlock rigged to keep the poisonous atmosphere at bay.
Initially, they had wanted to work their way through the Presidium streets and come in through an adjacent building, but the area was so clogged with collapsed structures and destroyed shuttles that getting to the central park was their only option in reaching the hospital within their lifetimes…including Liara’s. The botanical system that ran the entire bottom interior section of the central ring contained the long, thin lakes that acted as the Citadel’s water reservoirs, though they didn’t look particularly drinkable, filled with demolished aircars, broken chunks of collapsed skyways and bridges and other debris. There was also a distinct lack of filter circulation leaving an oily sheen coating the still surface. Along the banks were parks containing trees, bushes and flowers, most of which were dead or dying in the toxic atmosphere, though a few seemed to be adapting and even thriving. The buildings of the Presidium sloped up from here, the most expensive real estate in the Citadel, housing the various branches of galactic government, including living quarters, shops, restaurants, theaters, bars, clubs and the Citadel Tower with the Council Chambers. Now all empty and dead except for the hospital.
Liara wondered how it had maintained integrity when nothing else had. She was wary of things that seemed too good to be true. If one could consider surviving the death of millions because of a single, solitary building too good to be true.
Ashley motioned at her and pointed toward the retaining wall that bordered the park. Liara nodded, and together, she and Tali rushed forward, taking cover and aiming their weapons as Ashley and Garrus then moved up, vaulting the wall onto the grass. Leapfrogging this way, moving stealthily from cover to cover, climbing level after level, they approached the hospital until they were close enough to see the landing zone. They all froze when they detected movement in the fog. The air was clearer here, perhaps because of the filtration from the hospital, though it still remained unbreathable.
Ashely, crouched within the shadow of an overturned shuttle, held up her hand, sticking her fingers out one at a time to indicate how many targets she was detecting. One, two, three, four, five, and finally, six, indicating that the entrance across the landing zone was being heavily guarded. Liara frowned. There was no reason to guard an entrance on a dead station unless they knew someone was coming. From Ashley’s flattened palm to indicate they needed to fall back and regroup, she knew it, too.
Once they’d retreated all the way back behind the first retaining wall, Ashley drew them near so that they were all within reach. Huddled in a circle, helmets touching, they were able to hear each other talk without requiring the use of their transmitters.
“Looks like we no longer hold the element of surprise,” Garrus said. “They knew we were coming.”
“But they don’t know we’re here,” Ashley said. “There’s plenty of cover among those shuttles. It looked like half the Presidium headed there when all hell broke loose.”
“It’s always been designated as an emergency shelter,” Liara said. “Obviously, it was the only one that actually worked.”
“I wonder why,” Tali said, her tone keenly curious. “It would have to possess kinetic shielding far more powerful than anything else on the station, not to mention power cells strong enough maintain internal integrity when every other grid went offline. That’s more than most military compounds possess.”
“Questions for another time,” Ashley said, a touch impatiently. “We need to figure a way through. The main entrance appears to be the only way in or out. And while we can blast our way through, that would defeat the purpose of a rescue mission. Letting in this atmosphere would kill Shepard, not to mention everyone else.”
“We could go further down the street,” Liara suggested. “Sneak along the wall to the right side of the entrance. There’s a huge pileup of shuttles there, where they tumbled out of the parking level. That would hide our movement until we’re almost to the entrance. Then we rush the sixth guard and fortify the entrance, keep the other guards out.”
“Who knows how many are inside?” Garrus said.
“Do we really think they have a lot of weapons or that they all know how to use them?” Tali asked. “I’m hoping there are a lot of children in there.”
“Nice thought, but there’s no way to be sure,” Ashley said. “They won’t shoot us, though, if we have their leader. I noticed Aria on the balcony with a batarian, probably her bodyguard. We can crawl up the pile of wrecked shuttles and come over the top. Take out the bodyguard, take her hostage and demand she takes us to where she’s holding Shepard.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Garrus said approvingly.
“All right, you and Liara head for right side of the landing zone. Tali and I will head right. We’ll lay down cover fire, draw their attention over to our side and you can rush the balcony. Wait for the sound of our weapons before you mo—”
There was a sudden motion above them and instantly, they all flattened against the wall, weapons aimed and ready as they peered toward the upper level. But there was only a white cloth attached to a piece of metal rebar, waving in the universal sign of surrender, which didn’t really make sense until a helmet cautiously eased over the edge to reveal a pair of keen blue eyes looking down at them.
“You know, someone could have dropped a grenade down there and then, where would you be?”
Liara leaned weakly against the wall, closing her eyes as Shepard’s strong voice came over their helmet comms. Filled with a myriad of emotion; confusion, relief, and astonishment, there was also, absurdly, a touch of embarrassment at being caught. But mostly, there was just a love so strong it nearly choked her. And a sudden dread, because even this close, she could no longer detect Shepard through their bond.
She remained crouched there even as the rest all stood up to greet their commander, a rush of voices all speaking at once, demanding explanations. Shepard had dropped over the wall, looking hale and hearty, at least as much as could be determined through her armor and face shield. Everyone brought their comms back online, just in time not to be unduly startled by the appearance of the other five people who had been guarding the hospital entrance. Liara was pleasantly surprised to see Bailey there, relieved to know Shepard had at least one friend with her while recovering from her injuries.
She was considerably less pleased to see Aria, especially when the other asari started herding everyone to the hospital. Shepard didn’t indicate any hint of being held against her will, but she also didn’t wasn’t reacting as Liara had expected. She seemed slightly deferential to Aria, allowing her to take the lead.
What had Liara expected? She supposed she had imagined a weak and battered Shepard lying in a hospital bed, who would wake as soon as Liara swept in to rescue her, looking up at her with gratitude and love shining in those brilliant sapphire eyes. Of course, Shepard had never been the submissive type, even if she’d been bedridden, and while she did limp a little as they walked back to the hospital, favoring her left hip, she seemed in far better health than reports had indicated.
Liara hated not knowing what was going on. As the Shadow Broker, she was used to having all the information regarding a situation right there at her fingertips. Now, she wasn’t certain of anything, including the woman she loved.
“Shepard, what the hell is going on?” Ashley demanded as soon as they were inside the hospital lobby and everyone could remove their helmets.
“Nothing is going on, not really,” Shepard said, a touch of exasperation in her tone. “After the Crucible fired, it disintegrated. Somehow the roof collapsed back into the Citadel Tower where Aria’s people rescued me. I’ve spent the last two months healing and waiting for you to get here.” She glanced at Liara, eyes crinkling a little as they met her gaze. “You know, if you just called ahead instead of sneaking in like a teenager out all night, you would have saved yourselves a long walk.”
“We thought Aria was holding you as a prisoner,” Liara said, sending the asari in question a poisonous look. Aria, to her great dismay, just smiled crookedly back and put a hand companionably on Shepard’s near shoulder for a quick squeeze and shake before letting go, an established familiarity that Shepard not only did not shrug off, but also didn’t seem to pay much attention to, as if it happened all the time, which was worse. How close had they become during their time on the Citadel?
“No, she was trying to incite the Alliance into rescuing Shepard, as well as the rest of us,” Bailey said with a rough grin. “Instead, they just told us to sit tight and they’d get to us when they could. So we waited for the Normandy, and intended to explain everything once you got here. We didn’t figure on stealth technology.”
“I should have known you’d come in hot,” Shepard said, a touch a self-castigation on her features. “It’s what I would have done.”
“Well, we’re all here now, and we’re all friends,” Aria said with a cheer that was completely uncharacteristic of her. “How soon before we can transfer over to the Normandy?”
A silence fell in response to this question and Ashley looked uncertainly at Shepard. “Commander?”
“I intend to rescue everyone here,” Shepard said firmly. “And I have a promise to keep to Aria. Once we drop the refugees off, I’m taking her back to Omega.”
“What? Why?” Tali said, and then faltered as attention was turned on her. “I mean, when did that become the plan?”
“When I saved her life,” Aria said, and her tone had hardened, sounding a great deal more like the criminal Liara had met years earlier when she’d been searching for Shepard’s body. “She owes me.”
“But the rest of you don’t,” Shepard said. “This will take two years, and that’s the best estimate. I can’t ask anyone else to go with me.”
“Of course I’ll go with you,” Liara said, deciding it was long past time that she start asserting her rights as Shepard’s bondmate. “Where else would I be, but at your side?”
Shepard smiled and stepped towards her. “Of course,” she said, reaching out her hand to take Liara’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to tell you this way. I thought our reunion would go a little differently.”
“I did, too,” Liara said tonelessly.
She wanted to draw her pistol and demand everyone just stop until she had caught up. It was all happening too quickly and she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Or why Shepard wanted to head off into deep space as soon as she could with Aria of all people.
But she intended to find out.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Shepard said, once she had managed to separate Liara from the rest and bring her into her hospital room where they could speak in relative privacy, though God only knew how many monitoring devices were scattered around. Hopefully Aria and others would be too busy making plans to get off the station, while Ashley, Tali and Garrus worked out the logistics of transferring the Citadel’s survivors over to the Normandy. Joker had already been contacted and had flown the shuttle to the central ring, landing in front of the hospital. Now, he and Bailey were figuring out vectors and if they could use any of the Citadel’s big guns to clear a path through the debris now that they had a way of getting to the central battery controls located on the outer ring and possessed some military grade generators from the shuttle to power them.
Liara pulled away a little, moving over to look through the large window which only showed the dimmest outline of the lake below through the yellowish smog. “It is,” she said in that oddly even tone she’d adopted since getting there. “Aria says she saved your life.”
“She did,” Shepard said, taking a seat on the bed where she watched Liara closely. For whatever reason, Liara was hurting. Shepard could tell that much just from long familiarity with her body language though, she couldn’t ‘feel’ her the way she once had, couldn’t sense Liara’s mood or what emotion might be predominant at the moment. Shepard wasn’t sure if that was a result of her injuries or if Liara was blocking her for some reason. The bond had still been achingly new when they were separated in London
“I was pretty beat up when I beamed up to the Citadel, barely able to stand. After I triggered the Crucible, everything blew up, or at least, I think it did. When I came to, I was back in the Tower, lying in a pile of rubble, and everything was dark. If Aria hadn’t tracked me down, hadn’t sent Bailey and Cousland all the way up past the Council Chambers to rescue me, I would have died from my injuries.” She paused, not knowing how this would go over. “Apparently Aria planted a tracker on me back when I helped her retake Omega.”
Liara turned to stare at her, her ice blue eyes wounded. “How?”
Shepard desperately did not want to touch that one. “Long story, but it’s a good thing she did, because it’s unlikely that bubble of atmosphere I was in would have lasted much longer. I either would have suffocated, or the mass effect field around the top floor would have failed, blowing me out into space.” She frowned, still unclear on what exactly had happened. “Except, it already had, otherwise, Anderson’s body would have been in the wreckage with me.”
“So now you owe her,” Liara said. “You’ve said that. She’s said that.” She paused. “But do you really owe her two years of your life? Assuming that the trip is uneventful and there are no stops on the way?”
Shepard didn’t answer immediately. She’d been thinking about this for some time, ever since Aria had told her what she wanted. And while she thought she had it straight in her own mind, she hoped she could explain it to Liara in a way that would make her understand.
“The last time the Alliance took the Normandy from me, it was horrible,” she said, finally. “For six months after my tribunal, I was a prisoner regardless of what the Alliance brass was calling it. I didn’t see anyone and couldn’t find out anything about what was going on. It was only when the Reapers showed up on our doorstep that I was finally brought up to speed.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep the bitterness entirely out of her voice, or ignore the lingering resentment she possessed at being condemned by the very military she had once considered family for doing what she had to do to protect the galaxy.
Liara flinched, perhaps mistaking the source of Shepard’s bitterness. “I’ve explained why I couldn’t come to visit you.”
Shepard held up her hand. “I know and I’m not blaming you,” she told her. “The Reapers were coming and we couldn’t get anyone to believe us or start preparing. Everything you did as the Shadow Broker, tracking down the plans for the Prothean weapon, gave us the only chance we had.” She shook her head. “I’m being called the Hero of the Galaxy for firing off the Crucible, but the truth is, we wouldn’t have had it to use against the Reapers if it hadn’t been for you.” She exhaled, trying to find the words. “The thing is, I’ve heard enough from the Alliance transmissions over the past month to know how it’s going to go once they get their hands on me. I’ll no longer be a soldier, I’ll just be a symbol, something they can parade around from system to system while everyone rebuilds, a sort of constant reminder about the importance of working together to create a new kind of galactic government, emphasizing the role Humans intend to play in it. That's why I've been going along with Aria's story that I'm less mobile than I actually am, so they think I'm not worth retrieving quite yet.”
“What the Alliance wants with you isn’t so surprising, Shepard. No one's ever done what you have. Not only did you find a way to destroy the Reapers, you united all the species in that common goal. It’s unprecedented.”
“Which means in the first time in years, I don’t have to worry about the Reapers or Council politics,” Shepard said. “Yet none of my own people are bothering to ask me what I might want.”
“So what do you want?” Liara demanded, and tensed, as if she dreaded the answer. Shepard didn’t know why Liara seemed so out of sorts, but she continued gamely.
“Time to breathe, and time to think.” Shepard reached out her hand and lowered her voice. “Time to be with the person I love. But that won’t happen if I stay here, Liara. They’ll have me tied up in strings like a puppet, dancing to their tune, and because I’m a good soldier, I’ll let them. Taking the Normandy on a deep space voyage to the Terminus systems is the only way to put some distance between me and everything that’s happened and is going to happen. Taking Aria along is merely a way to pay back a debt at the same time.”
“So you’ll just take the Normandy and go? Will the Alliance allow that?” Liara stepped closer, entwining her fingers with Shepard’s and gripping tightly.
Shepard exhaled a silent sigh of relief. “That’s why I’m not going to ask permission ahead of time. Just forgiveness once I’m away. And play the Spectre card for all its worth.”
“You know, everyone is going along with your plan at this point because they’re still recovering from the war, and they're used to following your lead,” Liara pointed out as she moved closer, her tone gentling. “But once anyone stops to really think about it, it’s unlikely they’ll be willing to accompany you.”
“I realize that,” Shepard said. “And I can’t fault them for it. In any event, the only person I really want to come with me is you.” She leaned forward, resting her forehead on Liara’s abdomen as she closed her eyes. “If you meant what you said earlier.”
Liara ran her long fingers through Shepard’s hair, cut short again, stroking soothingly. “I did mean it,” she said. She hesitated. “I can’t feel you, Kate. Our bond has been severed somehow.”
Shepard felt a tremor run through Liara and she put her arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “Then we’ll just have to find a way to restore it,” she said, feeling vulnerable. “If you want us to.”
Liara wrapped her arms around Shepard’s head, holding her close. Shepard could feel the warmth of her body through the material beneath her cheek, and the soft sounds of her digestive system, similar to a human, in her ear. “There’s nothing I want more,” Liara said, and there was a catch in her voice. “I’ve believed you dead and gone twice now. Please stop doing that.”
Shepard wanted to laugh, or perhaps cry. Both were trembling in her throat. “I’ll try. Another reason for us to take off and leave it all behind. It might increase my life expectancy in many ways.”
“Not with Aria along,” Liara said. “She’s dangerous, more dangerous when she appears accommodating.”
“I know exactly what she is,” Shepard said, confidently. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I will worry about it,” Liara said and her fingers tightened on Shepard’s hair, tugging it a little in admonishment. “That’s the other reason I’m coming with you. To make sure she doesn’t try anything.”
“I’m fine with that.”
Shepard drew back and peered up at Liara’s face, studying the familiar lines of her features, the smooth hue of her blue skin, and the darker blue freckles scattered across her nose, contrasting with the lighter silver shade of her cranial crest. “I do love you, you know,” she said, quietly.
Liara smiled. “I love you, too.” She ran her hands over Shepard’s shoulders, grasping her biceps and pulling her up from the bed. Then she kissed her, slow and sweet. For a few seconds, Shepard simply basked in the sensation, of the strength of her arms around her, of the firm curves of her body against hers, of the familiar, yet cherished taste of her lips. Then it caught up to them and the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent on both sides and it was all Shepard could do not to peel Liara’s outfit off her and have her as quickly as possible. Though, from the insistence in Liara’s caresses, it seemed she felt the same and they fell back together onto the mattress, clinging together in a desperate passion.
“I don’t think we’re entirely private here,” she managed to murmur when they finally broke for air. At this point, she wasn’t sure she cared, but she thought Liara should know.
Liara froze, her body taut in Shepard’s arms before she finally nodded. “I think you’re probably right.” Snuggling closer, she nestled her head on Shepard’s shoulder, relaxing into a more restrained embrace.
Shepard regretted the necessity, but decided to enjoy what she could get, especially since it had been far too long since she’d felt Liara’s warmth against her. Their times on the Normandy and at her apartment on the Silversun Strip had always felt illicit, stolen moments taken from the constant battle against the Reapers, personal desire at the cost of duty, inciting guilt along with the pleasure. She didn’t know what it would be like when they could finally be together as a couple without the responsibility of the galaxy weighing on them. A slow voyage to the Omega Nebula would give them the chance to really know each other.
Shepard hoped that would be a good thing.
“Are you sure about this?” Liara asked quietly, after several moments of laying in each other’s arms, listening to their respective respiration. Through the door that Shepard realized she hadn’t even bothered to seal, they could hear the muffled sounds of others talking and walking down the corridor.
“It’s the only thing I can think of that might keep me sane,” she insisted.
“Then I’m with you. All the way.”
Shepard bent her head, nuzzling Liara’s crest. “That means everything to me.”
“And Aria? You and her seemed to have grown close.”
Shepard was surprised. “We’ve managed to get along so far.’ She paused. “You sound…well, like you might be a little jealous.”
Liara abruptly sat up. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her eyes were narrowed as she glared down at Shepard who wanted to smile but thought it prudent that she didn’t. “I’m just concerned about her presence. You should be, too.”
“I know that we’ll have to keep an eye on her,” Shepard allowed, trying to placate her lover. “But I think I can trust her, insofar as she wants to go back to Omega more than anything, and I can do that for her. That buys a certain amount of cooperation. My biggest concern is if I can recruit enough people to man the Normandy. It needs a minimum crew compliment of ten to fly any distance. Fifteen would be better, twenty would be optimal. So far, we have three. You, me and Aria. And maybe Narl, her minion, but I doubt he’s qualified to pilot a ship like the Normandy.”
“Are you hoping for volunteers?” Liara asked. “That’s a lot to ask.”
“I know.” Shepard reached up and ran her finger down the smooth slope of Liara’s cheek. “But I have to believe it’ll work out.”
Liara smiled faintly. “You deserve that much, my love,” she told her. “We’ll find the people. If not from the crew you have, then from others that I know.” She paused. “Tali will come, I think. We’ll be headed in the general direction of Rannoch, at least, in the beginning, and I believe she’d rather go home with us than on a ship in the fleet that exiled her.”
“I hope so,” Shepard allowed, and felt a release in her chest as she realized what she was about to do. If Liara hadn’t agreed, then she would have remained on Earth no matter the personal cost, but now she was free and her head was suddenly filled with logistics, what she would need in the specialties of the crew, who might be willing to join her, and who would undoubtedly stay behind. “I don’t think Vega or Williams will want to go. They’re Alliance all the way.”
“Do you think they’ll try to stop you?”
Shepard thought about it. “I don’t know. I hope I have enough credit built up that they’ll let me be, but if they do try…” She trailed off.
“I’ll just have to handle that when it comes.”
“You’re not serious about this,” Ashley demanded, staring at Shepard with growing dismay. “I thought you were just stringing Aria along until we got everyone off the Citadel.”
Liara unobtrusively rested her hand on the butt of the pistol concealed in her outfit. She wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but she wanted to be ready for any event.
“I am serious,” Shepard said with a frown, either at Ashley’s tone or the suggestion that she would go back on her word. “Now that we’ve dropped off the refugees, I’m ready to start planning. You’re either with me, or you need to transfer off the Normandy. The quarians are making arrangements to return everyone to their respective fleets. I know they plan on sending a ship to Earth, but I’ve asked them to wait until the last moment before dispatching it.”
“Is this why you brought us to the Migrant Fleet?” Vega asked. Massively built, t-shirt straining over his enormous muscles, he was every inch an Alliance infantry soldier. The expression in his eyes was dark, and though he didn’t seem angry, he didn’t look particularly happy, either. “Because the quarians will keep quiet if you ask them to and they won’t make a fuss when you suddenly take off with the Normandy?”
“Technically, the Normandy is salvage,” Garrus pointed out. He was leaning back in his chair in the conference room, seeming amused at what he was hearing. “It was built by Cerberus for Shepard. She was only lending it to the Alliance.”
“I don’t think that’s how they saw it,” Vega said, shooting him a look. "They were refitting it for Admiral Hackett to use as his flagship." He glanced around and then held up his hands. “Hey, I’m enough of a space lawyer to know you might be able to get away with this, especially if you use your Spectre status. Besides, who really wants to argue with the person who saved all our asses from the Reapers? I won’t try to talk you out of this, Commander. Not if it’s really what you want to do, but I need to get back to Earth.”
“I understand,” Shepard said. “Thank you, James.”
“I’ll stay on the Normandy,” Tali said, unsurprisingly. “And since we’re headed in that general direction, we can probably travel with the Migrant Fleet for the better part of the journey. It won’t be as if we’re completely alone out there.”
“That was the plan.” Shepard favored her with a smile. “And thanks, Tali. It means a lot that you’ll be on board. I know you’ll be able to take good care of engineering.”
For a moment, there was silence, and then Garrus offered a rusty sort of chuckle. “What the hell. I’ll go. Not sure there’s anything left on Palavan for me, anyway.”
Shepard peered at him anxiously. “Are you sure, Garrus? You were becoming a fairly important part of their government. They might need you to help in rebuilding. In fact, I thought you were looking forward to it.”
“I was when it was just a fantasy. I never expected to actually survive this long. Honestly, I don’t even know how to use a hammer.” Garrus returned her look, his hawk-like features hard to read. “Besides, I could use the break as much as you can, Commander, and for much the same reasons. I understand why you’re really doing this, even if the others don’t and it has nothing to do with owing Aria T’Loak.”
She returned his look steadily. “All right,” she said. “Glad to have you onboard.”
“You’ll need medical personnel,” Chakwas said suddenly. “Even if it’s uneventful, it’s a long trip. Someone may require a doctor and I’m not sure the quarians know human physiology that well.”
Shepard offered a crooked grin. “You volunteering, Doc?”
“I belong on a starship, Commander,” she replied calmly. “I don’t want to be stuck planetside, which is probably where I’ll be assigned for the next few years while Earth is recovering. Even the Alliance deep space fleet will be sticking close to home for a while before they move to check on the colonies.”
“Good to have you along,” Shepard said, gratitude evident in her tone. “That’s engineering, medical, and gunnery. All we need now is a pilot.”
She looked expectantly at Joker who was sitting sullenly in his chair, looking down at his arms which were crossed over his chest. Liara wondered what he was thinking and she could see the sudden uncertainty that appeared in Shepard’s eyes.
“Joker?”
“Not interested,” he said finally.
Shepard flinched slightly, so small that perhaps only Liara detected it. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said evenly. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“I will accompany you,” Javik suddenly spoke up in his ponderous tone.
Of course, it was unlikely the sole remaining Prothean, recovered after fifty thousand years of stasis in which his people and civilization were nearly erased by the Reapers, had any place else to go. Not that he would ever admit that, His attitude had always been that they should be honored he deigned to join the ‘lesser species’ in their war, even though Shepard had succeeded where his people had failed miserably. Liara was glad, however. It would give her the chance to do further research into the Prothean civilization, which had been the focus of her archaeological career prior to becoming the Shadow Broker. They might even get that book written. Journey with a Prothean.
“That’s great, Javik,” Shepard said, managing to sound enthusiastic.
“And I can fly this vessel,” he added, sparing a scornful look at Joker, all four of his eyes flickering. “Your technology is simple and not difficult to master. Nor do I require a synthetic to aid in every navigational computation.”
That prodded Joker out of his funk, his head lifting, anger flaring in his eyes. Liara wasn’t sure if it was the insult about his piloting ability or the implied slur at EDI, but he looked ready to fly across the table at Javik who remained where he was, albeit with a sardonic curl to his upper lip. Quivering a moment, Joker then collapsed back in his chair, as if realizing there wasn’t much he could do, either because Javik was a formidable foe, or because Joker’s disease left him with brittle bones. Liara wondered if he knew that Shepard would have backed him to the hilt against Javik, whatever he tried. Indeed, she looked a little disappointed that he hadn’t made the attempt.
An awkward silence ensued that Liara decided needed to be broken. “I, of course, will be going with the Commander. This will be a long trip without the mass arrays, but two years isn’t really that significant.”
“Maybe not when you live to be a thousand,” Ashley muttered. She looked down at her hands which had been clenching on the table. “I don’t agree with this, Shepard. It feels like you’re running away.”
Anger flared within Liara. “You dare say that after all she’s done?!? After all that’s been asked of her?!?” she blurted, standing up before she quite realized what she was doing. She felt herself flush, and at Shepard’s lowered palm and stern glare, she eased back into her seat.
Ashley was already looking regretful. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” she said to Shepard, lifting her hands apologetically. “I know how much you’ve sacrificed in this war, Shepard. If you’re really determined to do this, then I guess I don’t have the right to fight you on it. But I can’t go with you, either. There’s too much for me to do here.”
“I understand,” Shepard said. “And frankly, it makes it easier to know there’s soldiers like you and James left here to hold the fort.”
“I’ll talk to the crew, see who else might want to stay on the Normandy,” Ashley added, obviously trying to be conciliatory. It wasn’t the first time her mouth had run ahead of her brain, and now that Shepard was back, she had quickly fallen back into old habits, though she had been so careful with her words when she’d been Normandy’s captain.
“So long as no one attempts to contact the Alliance fleet,” Liara warned. As everyone looked at her, she spread out her hands. “It is a wise precaution. As the commander has indicated, if we’re put in the position of having to ask permission, we may never be able to leave.”
“Liara’s right,” Shepard said, her tone regretful. “I hate putting people on the spot like this, especially Alliance personnel, but I can’t give the brass a chance to stop me. I’m afraid people won’t have a lot of time to decide.”
“Don’t worry, Commander, the comm system is experiencing a malfunction,” Samantha said. She’d been quiet up until now, absorbing everything with those dark eyes. “It probably won’t be repaired until we’re well out of the system.”
Shepard smiled, looking more pleased than Liara was completely comfortable with. “You’re coming? That’s great, Sam, but are you sure? There won’t be many places out there to buy a toothbrush if your current one breaks.”
“I’ll manage, Commander,” she responded, offering a warm smile. “Every new experience with you has helped me grow in ways I never thought I could. I can’t wait to see where we go from here. Besides, without EDI, you’re going to need a systems analyst more than ever.”
Shepard looked around. “That’s it, then. Ashley, please have anyone who wishes to remain on board come see me in the war room. I’ll be busy coordinating with the quarians who have agreed to help gather our food and medical supplies. They know how to pack for long voyages between ports better than anyone. We should be able to retrieve everything we need from the Citadel, especially now we have a path cut through the debris field.”
“The quarians owe you for helping us take back our homeworld, Shepard,” Tali said forcefully. “There isn’t anything we wouldn’t do to help you.”
“When does the Migrant Fleet intend on leaving the solar system?” Vega asked.
“In a few days,” Shepard said. “The turians and salarians are also heading out around that time, as well. Hopefully, no one will notice the Normandy among all those vessels.”
“How soon before the Alliance notices the people on the Citadel have been rescued?” Garrus added pointedly.
“They usually checked in every four or five days,” Shepard said. “They checked in just before you showed up.” She paused, as if suddenly struck by something, her expression altering as she pinned Ashley with a look. “Did they know about your mission to board the Citadel?”
Ashley withdrew her shoulders a little. “Actually, I was going to ask forgiveness for that, Shepard,” she admitted. “Our orders upon our return was to report for recovery missions in North America so at the moment, they don’t even know we’re in-system. We were deliberately vague about our ETA and ran stealth all the way past the relay. I just didn’t want to waste time arguing with them about the logistics of recovering you from the Citadel.”
“Ah, a Spectre after my own heart,” Shepard said, looking both impressed and relieved. “With any luck, they’ll remain too busy to notice anything until after we’re gone.”
“I still have to file a report,” Ashley said, and then added, only a little reluctantly, “But I’ll wait until the Migrant Fleet clears the system.”
“Thanks, Ash.” Shepard reached over and put her hand on her forearm. “You’re a good friend.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Joker abruptly blurted. He rose to his feet, standing unsteadily, fists clenched at his side. “We believed in you. EDI believed in you.”
Shepard held up her hand as both Liara and Vega rose to their feet, prepared to intervene. “I need the room,” she said quietly.
Liara hesitated, and then left with the others as they vacated the conference room, leaving Joker and Shepard alone and the confrontation that had been building since Shepard’s fateful decision on the Citadel.
“Permission to speak freely, Commander,” Joker said once the room had been cleared, biting off every word.
“Permission granted.” As if he'd ever needed such permission, she thought.
“Don’t you even know that EDI died? It’s like you don’t even care!”
Shepard sobered. “I do care,” she said in an even tone, regarding him steadily. “But I knew when I fired the Crucible that she wouldn’t survive.”
“You didn’t let that stop you,” he said bitterly.
“I couldn’t,” Shepard said. “And honestly, do you think she would have allowed it to stop me? Either she was merely a synthetic, in which case, she was only a machine and had no real feelings, only simulations of them. Or she was, as I believe, and you do as well, a full member of this crew who understood the sacrifices expected of them. Do you think she would have hesitated for one moment, knowing that her death was the price of that decision? Do you think I did?”
“But you didn’t die,” Joker said, sounding very much as if he regretted that. Shepard tried not to allow that to hurt her feelings as much as it did.
“No, but I certainly expected that would be the outcome, and I was fine with it. I considered it a bargain, in fact.” For a second, Shepard was back in that Crucible control room, faced with the choice of three consoles. Could she have made a different decision? Synthesis would have allowed synthetics like EDI to continue, but would have melded Shepard’s consciousness with the Catalyst. She couldn’t accept that, but had that been born of selfishness? She let out her breath and leaned forward, resting her hands palm down on the table. “I’m sorry. I know this hurts you. It hurts me. But there was no other way. The Reapers had to be destroyed.” She gentled her voice. “And I think you know that, as well.”
He stared at her for a long, painful moment, shaking visibly, and then abruptly collapsed back in his chair, harsh, choking sobs racking his frame. She suspected it was the first time he had allowed the full measure of his grief to take hold of him. She didn’t try to comfort him, knowing he had to surrender to this release of emotion. She’d seen how he had been since returning to the Normandy, how he was interacting with the others, how bitter he’d become. She let him be, allowing him to come to her because forcing it would have only send him deeper into that hard, acrimonious shell. And if he needed to blame her for EDI’s fate, then it was no less than what she deserved.
It had been her decision, after all.
Silently, she waited, offering her presence, but not intruding. Finally, his sobs eased, and he wiped his face with the sleeve of his uniform.
“Sorry, Commander,” he muttered.
“No need to apologize,” she said gently.
“I’m a mess,” he admitted.
“Yep.”
“I just miss her, you know.”
“I do, too, Joker. More than you could know.”
“Thanks, Commander.” Joker glanced up at her, his expression apologetic. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like I did. I had no right. I was the one who got you killed in the first place when I couldn’t leave the Normandy. Now, I’m acting like a jerk because I can’t let go of EDI.”
“Love never lets us go,” Shepard said. “She’ll always had a piece of your heart, and maybe that’s what made her truly sentient.”
“You think she felt anything when it happened?” Joker asked, his voice suddenly small, like a child’s cry in the night. “She could make so many calculations in an instant. Scan entire libraries in seconds. I hate to think that she knew what was happening and had an eternity to contemplate it, but no time to say good-bye.”
Shepard shut her eyes, that thought penetrating like a dagger to her heart. “I hope not.” She hesitated. “How did it…” She trailed off unhappily.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he said, somehow understanding what she was asking. “We were racing ahead of the shockwave. I was doing everything I could to keep the ship ahead of the leading edge. I remember she said my name once. I looked over at her, but she—her body was just sitting there. I thought it was because she was concentrating all her attention on keeping the ship together but for all I know, she was already gone at that point. After we crashed, I looked over again and made some stupid joke about any landing you can walk away from…”
He stopped, took several deep breaths. “She didn’t respond, just stared straight ahead, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, nothing. At first, we thought that it was just a glitch, that once we had the systems back online she’d reboot, but she never did. Then Tali said her programming was corrupted down to her base code and I…I knew it was from whatever you did to destroy the Reapers.”
“She was…” Shepard hesitated as she suddenly realized something. “Perhaps more of a hero than we’ve recognized. Something to consider, and perhaps it's no kind of consolation, but when EDI incorporated the Reaper IFF into herself, she became the Normandy. As she once told us, the ship was her body, the hull her skin, the drive core, her heart. The Crucible wiped out Reaper tech. It should have destroyed the Normandy, not merely damaged it. Perhaps EDI did have time to know what was coming, and in that instant, did what she had to so that her crewmates and her ship could survive. Perhaps the reason her code was corrupted instead of her body destroyed was that she chose to put all her awareness in the gynoid, chose to self-destruct rather than allow the ship to be further harmed, to allow any of her friends and family to die. And that sacrifice is something to be honored, not regretted.”
Joker was silent a moment as he thought about it, and as he did, Shepard could see an easing in the set of his shoulders, his chin lifting. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “She would have done that for us.”
“I’ll make a point of putting that in my report,” she said gently. “See that she receives the recognition she deserves.”
“She’d like that.” He rose to his feet and stuck out his hand. “Commander, if you still need that pilot…”
Shepard took his hand, squeezing carefully. “It’s a long trip, lieutenant,” she said. “Not sure what we’ll be facing or how it’ll go. This will be a whole new way of traveling for us.”
“Only one way to find out,” he said. “If you’ll have me.”
“Then, welcome aboard, Joker. Take the helm. Maintain stealth mode.”
“Aye, Commander.” He straightened and saluted, holding it until she returned it.
After he left, Shepard slumped in her chair, feeling old and sore and uncertain about what was to come. Was she really doing what was right? Or what was just expedient for her? Was that what she had done in the Crucible?
So lost in thought was she that she hadn’t noticed Tali had joined her. She had taken a seat not far from Shepard, waiting patiently as she held a tablet in one hand and a mug in the other.
“How long have you been there?” Shepard asked, startled.
“Not long.” Tali slid both tablet and mug across to her. “Here’s a list of supplies and where they can be found on the Citadel. And here’s a mug of tea from the galley. Doctor’s orders.”
Shepard took a cautious sip, warmed though by the light flavor of mint and chicory. “Thanks.” She studied the list. “You’ve lived on a ship all your life, Tali. I grew up on them, but we’ve always traveled via relay, halfway across the galaxy in a matter of moments. I know the Migrant Fleet is so big that it was rare for them to use the relays to move from cluster to cluster for anything less than an emergency. What’s it really like to be on a FTL ship that you can’t leave for months on end?”
Tali leaned back in her chair, her body language becoming contemplative. “Boredom is the worse,” she said after a few seconds. “It breeds irritation and short tempers. But you can always visit other ships in the fleet and meet new people or see something you haven’t before. That’s why it’s good that we’re traveling together in the beginning. The bad part will come when the Normandy has to break course and head for the Omega Nebula on our own. There are a lot of systems without relays that aren’t listed on the official maps, worlds that haven’t been claimed by any of the major civilizations, but will still have inhabitants.” She paused. “We’ll need to stop every so often to refuel and replenish our supplies. That can get dicey on planets that don’t recognize any kind of authority outside of their own. But the worse will be if something happens between clusters, with no hope of assistance, and no one to rely on but ourselves to make it out alive.”
“So you’re planning to stick with us all the way?” Shepard asked, barely daring to hope.
Tali’s helmet centered on Shepard, who wasn’t sure if she was surprised by the question or insulted. “What else would I do? I am vas Normandy, after all.” The tone was offended and Shepard made an apologetic gesture with her hand as Tali continued.
“We’re a small ship, Commander. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a small ship making such a long voyage. You’d better sure of who you’re taking along because the only way to be rid of them if it doesn’t work out is to put them out the nearest airlock. The bulkheads can get really tight in that situation. We think we understand space travel, but you’re right, the mass relays have spoiled us. Even though the fleet primarily used FTL, if we needed something we didn’t have, we could always dispatch a smaller ship to retrieve it quickly. That won’t be the case for us, and we don’t have the space in the cargo holds to take everything we might need. It’ll require a lot of flexibility. Just remember there’s no shame in salvaging any and everything you come across. You never know when something will turn out to be useful.”
Shepard reached over and put her hand on Tali’s wrist, squeezing lightly. “I’m really glad you’re coming with us,” she said seriously. “It might make the difference between success and failure.”
“I’ll do my best, Shepard.” Tali tilted her head and Shepard suspected she was smiling behind her face shield. “So long as you’re the one who has to space Aria when the time comes.”
Shepard gave her wrist a little shake in admonishment but she was still chuckling as Tali left the room. The young quarian had always known how to make her laugh, had always offered a perspective on things that made it easier for Shepard to get a grip on things. Her help would be invaluable.
She worked a while longer in the war room, setting things up with the quarian liaison, Veetor’Nara. The shy young man had come a long way from the mentally unstable survivor she had met on Freedom’s Progress after a Collector attack. Working from Admiral Sahla’Raan vas Rannoch’s flagship, the Tonbay, he’d been assigned to assist Shepard during the Normandy’s preparation for departure with the fleet. They accomplished several tasks before weariness forced her to finally call it a night. She bid him a warm farewell and headed for her quarters where she managed to wrestle off her boots before falling back onto the bed, not bothering to take off the rest of her uniform, too tired to even think about it. She was on the verge of falling asleep when the chime to her door sounded. Groaning, she put a hand to her face, wondering what new problem faced her.
“Come in.”
She forced her eyes open and was relieved not to have to get up when she saw Liara enter and descend the short flight of stairs from the upper level office to where the bed and small living area was located.
“I know you’re tired,” Liara said, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. Leaning down, she kissed her lightly. “Let me help.”
Shepard didn’t object. It wasn’t the first time she’d been put to bed by her lover and God willing, it wouldn’t be the last. Moving with calm familiarity, Liara stripped away the heavy vest, t-shirt, multi-pocketed pants and finally, the simple, conservative undergarments, alternately frowning and pursing her lips as each new scar on Shepard’s body was revealed.
“Goddess,” Liara whispered as she traced the jagged red line that ran across the muscled abdomen. “Shepard.”
“I know,” Shepard said groggily. “I told you I was a mess by the time I got to the Crucible. Dr. Michel put me back together with tape and baling wire.”
“Then she worked miracles. I must remember to send her a very nice gift before she leaves the Migrant Fleet,” Liara said, pulling the covers up around Shepard’s shoulders. Shepard’s hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist.
“Stay with me?” she asked softly. “Please?” She hoped she sounded inviting rather than anxious, despite lacking the energy to do anything but sleep.
“Of course,” Liara said, squeezing Shepard’s hand comfortingly as she removed it from her wrist.
The couple had rarely spent the night together while on board the ship for the simple fact it would be perceived as unprofessional, inciting a host of problems neither needed while on a war footing. While the crew knew they ‘kept company’ there was no point in being obvious about it, especially when so many others had to leave loved ones behind, many not knowing their fate once the Reapers struck. But now the war was over, and Shepard was damned if she was going to sleep alone any longer.
Before long, she felt the long, luscious length of Liara slide in next to her and with a happy sigh, Shepard drifted off.
Liara woke first, wrapped around Shepard from behind, believing she was reliving a haunting and recurring dream only to discover it was finally reality. With a sigh of pure relief and joy, Liara pulled Shepard closer, delighting in the sensation of the human’s smooth back pressed against her breasts and stomach. Shepard’s buttocks settled nicely into the hollow of Liara’s groin, and their legs were tangled in warm harmony.
Lifting her head, Liara looked down at her. Shepard was still fast asleep and looked so vulnerable. It didn’t matter that when she was awake, Shepard’s force of personality and will of steel made her appear larger than life. In slumber, her true self was revealed. Just a human woman, all muscle and sinew, but smaller than Liara, with short, boyishly cut hair and far too many lines around her eyes for someone so young. And more fragile than anyone could know. Liara’s breath caught as her eyes traced the puckered scar that ran over Shepard’s shoulder and down her collarbone. She knew Cerberus had rebuilt her with technology that defied even the Shadow Broker’s scrutiny, but dear Goddess, how much was one woman supposed to endure?
How much was the asari archaeologist who loved her supposed to endure?
Closing her eyes, Liara pressed her forehead against Shepard’s dark hair, breathing deeply of her scent, the musky hints of leather and gunmetal, and beneath, the fainter, delicate smell of her body’s natural aroma enhanced by the lilac shampoo and soap she favored. Two tears trickled slowly down Liara’s cheeks, born of mingled joy and a sorrow at how much time they’d lost. And as she lay there, holding Shepard close to her, desire began to rise, rushing hot within her veins.
Human females and asari were structured along similar lines. Both bipedal species possessing lactating glands and full hips for bearing live young, five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot, less upper than lower body strength, and voices that ranged from contralto to soprano. Asari and humans could even eat the same food, but that was where the similarities ended. Though every other species insisted on referring to the asari as ‘feminine’ and ‘she’ and ‘her’, Liara suspected it really boiled down to the breasts, swollen musculature designed to suckle offspring, which was predominant in the female gender of most species. All Asari developed a well-endowed set upon puberty, and thus, were deemed to be ‘women’ regardless of actual biology.
But Liara technically wasn’t a woman. She wasn’t a man, either. Asari were fully capable of providing both maternal and paternal genes to offspring, able to be both mothers and fathers, though not to the same child. There was no compatible term for what they knew themselves to be, so with the imperfection of translated language, they adapted to the rest of the galaxy, accepting the nomenclature even as they knew it not to be entirely true.
Shepard, to her credit, seemed to understand that, and even tried to be sensitive about it, but she also freely admitted that because of her proclivities, she might not have been romantically interested in Liara had she appeared less ‘female’. That was just who she was. Liara was simply glad it had turned out the way it had. Shepard was the only person she had ever loved; was the only person with whom she had ever been intimate. That made for some interesting discoveries when making love the first time. Asari genitalia was considerably less constrained than human physiology, and the word for it did not translate at all other than ‘azure’, which only meant a shade of blue in human terms. In her pubic area, Liara possessed a cavity in which her genitals resided, accessed via a moist slit. While inverted, the azure was similar to a ‘vagina’ in that it could accept and adjust to various types of penetration, but it did not function as a birth canal. That only formed during the last month of asari pregnancy and was located between the genital slit and the cloaca.
The azure could also protrude, turning inside out and filling with blood, becoming somewhat phallic shaped, though it was in no way similar to a ‘penis’, lacking a urethra or the ability to ejaculate reproductive DNA. Along the lining of the azure, whether inverted or protruding, were sensitive nerve endings, little nodules compatible in function to Shepard’s ‘clitoris’, surrounded by tissue that exuded a bluish, silky lubricant.
“So it’s all studded for your personal pleasure, giving or receiving,” Shepard had once said with a knowing leer, which had earned a little swat from Liara, though she appreciated the tiny nodules as much as anyone and felt a bit sorry for Shepard that she only possessed the one, albeit much larger than any of her own.
Shepard often speculated their adaptability was what made asari so universally attractive among the Council worlds. Not only could they reproduce with any species, they could also have a damned good time, regardless of the size and shape of the equipment involved, adjusting as necessary. Liara lacked the actual experience to authenticate this conclusion, but she agreed that it perhaps held some merit. She did know that she modified herself to whatever her lover was in the mood for, and tremendously enjoyed how Shepard responded to her, no matter what form she chose to utilize.
Of course, the real intimacy for asari came during the melding, when they merged minds with their lover as their nervous systems synchronized. Joined both physically and mentally was the height of enjoyment, particularly when an emotional attachment was also present. Liara had experienced all three with Shepard, and being forced to live without it had been agonizingly lonely.
“Hey,” Shepard murmured sleepily. “’Morning.”
“Good morning to you, too,” Liara said, slightly surprised. She hadn’t known Shepard was awake.
Shepard wiggled back, almost as if she were trying to be absorbed into Liara’s body. Liara understood how she felt, wishing only to join with her, to reassure herself that Shepard was really there, alive and well and back in her arms where she belonged.
Turning her head, Shepard made a small sound of pleasure as Liara kissed her, first on her neck and temple, then trailing over to the corner of her lips. “Missed you,” she said softly.
Liara responded by pulling her closer, turning Shepard onto her back so that she could press down and kiss her again, more fully, Shepard responded instantly, wrapping her arms and legs around Liara’s, holding her as close as she could.
“I need you,” Liara murmured between the open, aching kisses. “Now.”
“Then by all means, have me,” Shepard muttered back, her hands tracing over Liara’s back and sides as she drew her tongue along the aural crest, tickling the sensitive crevice with maddening precision. “What the hell are you waiting for?”
Liara exhaled, desire sizzling along her nerve endings like electricity dancing over receptors during a storm. Opening her mouth, her tongue moved against Shepard’s urgently, tasting her as she slid her hand down over a firm breast, chafing the tip with her palm, feeling it stiffen. Shepard groaned and arched into the caress, her hands running over Liara’s head, conveying her need as she stroked each individual line of her scalp crest and down the ridges running along the back of her neck. Loosing herself in the taste and touch of Shepard, Liara drifted one hand lower, slipping between Shepard’s legs to caress her lightly, unsurprised to feel the wetness bathe her fingertips. She shuddered as Shepard mirrored her action, worming her own way between Liara’s legs where Shepard teased open the slit before slipping two fingers inside, stroking with gentle force, thrusting in and out, fondling the nodules with increasing acuity.
Making a decided effort to concentrate, Liara found Shepard’s center, plying with tender passion, swirling around it in the way she knew provided the most delight. Their caresses grew more insistent, drawing the desire out, and then, as they each hovered on the brink, Liara lifted her head.
“Look at me,” she demanded, breath coming hard.
Shepard whimpered and forced open her eyes, focusing on Liara’s intent gaze.
“Embrace Eternity,” Liara insisted, and despite her lingering trepidation, let herself go, reaching out with every fiber of her being even as she covered Shepard’s mouth with her own, their breath mingling.
Shepard was present, accepting her fully into her soul, their pleasure and passion flaring into an incandescent explosion of ecstasy. It did not last an eternity, but it certainly lasted longer than the standard orgasm most species experienced, stretching on for minutes as they trembled together in perfect synchronized harmony.
It was an immersion so deeply intimate that it should only be shared with someone who could cherish its worth. And despite their reputation for promiscuity, undeserved in most quarters, the average asari did reserve it for only the most significant relationships, or at least, tried to. Some individuals involved simply did not appreciate how spiritual it was for their asari lover, or how extremely vulnerable it made them.
Liara knew she was lucky in that regard. All her sexual experiences had been with someone she loved and respected, someone who loved and respected her in return, making the joining effortless and effervescent. Their emotional connection wrapped around her now, lifting her even higher until finally, unable to sustain such sheer delight any longer, she was slowly lowered back into the warmth of the meld, an infinitely complex sensation of knowing she was with another individual, yet feeling as if they were one. Even more slowly, she withdrew into herself, reluctantly leaving the meld, tendrils of happiness and affection stretching, growing thinner and thinner until they finally severed, leaving Liara distinct, but not alone. To her great joy and relief, she could still feel a sliver of Shepard’s mind whisper within her own, nothing so firm as a thought, but rather, as a simple presence that she recognized had been missing for far too long.
She didn’t know when or how or why they had lost it. It was enough to know it was there once more.
“Damn, I can’t believe I’d forgotten how good that is,” Shepard said softly as they carefully withdrew physically, though remaining wrapped up around each other as comfortably as they could. “Or maybe it’s just a defense mechanism.”
“Defense mechanism?” Liara cracked open one eye to regard Shepard.
“Yes, because honestly, why aren’t we doing this all the time? I mean, just never stopping except for maybe food and a little sleep now and again.”
Liara laughed. “You’re right. It must be some kind of biological resistance because otherwise, we’d never accomplish anything.”
Shepard sobered. “Maybe that’s why the bond went away,” she suggested. “Maybe we were so far apart that having it remain intact would have been unbearable. It was the mind’s way of protecting itself.”
“Perhaps,” Liara said, surprised she was able to discuss it with such rationality. “Or perhaps it was too unstable to begin with. We established the bond under the most trying of circumstances, merging in London just before the battle. All the horrors we faced in those streets and then, suddenly, we were light years apart. It was too much for any mind to maintain.” She paused and swallowed, feeling achingly exposed. “I couldn’t feel you at all, Shepard. I thought I would know if you had died, believed I would sense that emptiness at the very least. So I knew you must live even as I tried to deny myself any hope. Then we repaired the communications array and the Alliance updated us on the situation, showing us the remains of the Citadel and I knew in my heart you must be gone, especially after they reported finding Anderson’s body. And I believed the bond between us had failed rather than recognize your death. That I had lost you again, and hadn’t even had the chance to say good-bye.”
“Shh, it’s all right.” Shepard pulled her closer, trying to comfort her and Liara realized she had begun crying. “I’m all right.”
“Then we received reports you had survived and still, I couldn’t connect with you.” Liara sniffed mightily to clear her nasal passages so she could breathe without choking. “Until I actually saw you on the Citadel, I couldn’t believe you were really alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Shepard said, sadly. “I’m so sorry, Liara. I should have found a way to send word, relay something through the Alliance comms.”
“No, stop apologizing,” Liara said, nudging her as she managed a little laugh. “I’m being foolish. We’ve been through so much and I’m acting like a child because a toy I wanted didn’t quite work the way I expected it to. I understand why you were pretending to be more injured than you were. The Alliance would have listened in on any transmission between us. It's just that losing the bond shook me more than I care to admit.”
“Hey, I was a little worried, too,” Shepard admitted. “Especially when I saw you at the Citadel and you were so aloof. I couldn’t sense your emotions at all. It was like you were suddenly blocking me.”
Startled, Liara drew back to look in her eyes. “You can sense my emotions?”
“Yeah, after we bonded in London.” Shepard said it in such a matter-of-fact tone that Liara wanted to shake her for being cavalier about something so infinitely precious and rare, even among asari pairings. “During the battle, I could always tell how frightened you were, but how courageous at the same time as all those husks and brutes and banshees kept coming at us. It’s also how I knew you were too injured to go on once we reached the transport beam. That’s why I called for a pickup. I knew you wouldn’t be able to make it up to the Citadel with me.”
“You left me,” Liara said, not wanting to sound accusing, but knowing she did.
“Because you were done,” Shepard said with a sad smile. “Any more and you would have died.” She leaned in and kissed her gently. “If you had died, I’d have stopped, right then and there. And I couldn’t afford to stop.”
Liara felt her heart break just a little, even as it filled with love. Shepard did that to her so easily, made her feel so much that she could scarcely assimilate it. No matter how long she lived, no matter how many others she might love in the centuries to come, she doubted anyone would ever match the breadth and depth of this emotion. And she knew she would follow Shepard to the outermost limits of the galaxy, regardless of how long it took or where exactly it would end.
“Can you sense me now?”
Shepard, who had been on the verge of dozing off, opened her eyes. “What?” She blinked. “Um, sure, I guess. You feel really happy right now, but still a little sad, and a little afraid.” Shepard frowned as she said the last. “Why are you afraid?”
“Oh, just that I never expected this,” Liara said. “And it’s not fear so much as it is surprise. Those can be similar in flavor. Most bonds don’t include sensing the other’s emotion, just a presence. It’s rare and so very special. And I’ve never heard of it happening with someone who wasn’t asari.”
“Really?” Liara absorbed Shepard’s astonishment. It was tart, like a fruit. “I wonder why it works for us?” Shepard’s gaze grew distant as she evaluated what Liara had told her. “You say it’s like a ‘flavor’. I guess so. Like I’m tasting what you’re feeling, but not really. Is it telepathy?”
“More like an enhanced empathy,” Liara said. “Perhaps it overloaded the bond in the beginning, forcing it to retreat within the depths of our respective minds. It warrants further analysis.”
Shepard laughed and the emotion accompanying it was like quicksilver, light and fresh, a most interesting flavor. “Can’t we just enjoy it, Dr. T’Soni, instead of studying it to death?”
“We can,” Liara said, though a bit piqued at the gentle teasing. When she realized it, she tried to stifle it, and then castigated herself for being foolish. This was part of the bond. She could no longer hide anything from Shepard, which made her grow apprehensive. Clearly she hadn’t thought this through.
Shepard had lifted her head at this point, staring at her. “Okay, now I’m picking up on so many things, I can’t figure any of them out.”
Liara sighed. “It’ll be a learning process, and we’re receiving so strongly because we’re so physically close.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to give up on physical closeness,” Shepard told her, arms tightening around her. “Will it be all right?”
“Yes,” Liara said. “It will be wonderful. I’ll just have to remember that I can no longer hide anything.”
“You hide things from me?”
“It’s my job,” Liara reminded. “I’m the Shadow Broker and I know things that you don’t necessarily need to know.”
Shepard grinned that brash, confident grin. “Like being jealous of Aria? It tastes like lemon.”
Liara dropped her head onto Shepard’s shoulder and groaned.
Shepard entered the Combat Information Center with a bit of a swagger to her stride, something that Samantha, working at her comm console, noticed immediately.
“I assume your evening went well, Commander,” she said, a hint of teasing in her tone.
Shepard offered her a grin as she stepped up to the navigational display where the galactic map was spread out before her in all its holographic glory. “Never you mind, soldier,” she said, provoking a smile and a bit of a blush from her comm specialist. “Any chatter?”
“The Alliance remains oblivious to the change in Citadel’s status,” Samantha reported, her tone becoming brisker and more official. “Most operations remain concentrated on Earth’s northern hemisphere, particularly the Asian sector. The rest of the chatter is concentrated on the imminent departure of the various alien fleets.”
Shepard altered the nav display to show the local Sol system and the multitude of tiny lights indicating the various ships. The Migrant Fleet, a dense collection of gold dots, were concentrated just inside the orbit of Jupiter, away from the green cluster representing the turians and krogan near Mars, the orange cluster representing the salarians not far from the asteroid belt, and the blue of the smaller asari fleet near Venus. The Alliance fleet orbiting Earth were stark white dots, spread out to encircle the planet.
“I did pick up on one interesting conversation,” Samantha offered.
Shepard looked over at her. “And?”
“Apparently Admiral Wallace contacted Admiral Hackett about dispatching a rescue and recovery mission to the Citadel once the alien fleets have cleared the system,” Samantha said. “It’s a request only at this point. She wants to have you assigned to her flagship.”
Shepard felt a fission of annoyance. “Yeah, I talked to her once while on the Citadel. She wants to make me an ambassador.”
“That’s wonderful,” Samantha said, and then faltered as she saw Shepard’s expression. “Isn’t it?”
“Why do you think I’m getting the hell out of Dodge?”
“Oh,” Sam said, and quickly looked back at her board. “You don’t want to be an ambassador?”
“No, I don’t,” Shepard said dryly. “Nor an admiral or a commodore or any of the other supposed promotions that were thrown at me over the past month. I’m a Spectre. And I’ll continue to do Spectre things. Like check out the Terminus systems.”
“I understand, Commander.” Sam hesitated. “Shepard?”
“Yes?”
“I know they can’t deny your Spectre status, but what about the rest of us? I didn’t think about this until just now, but I’m an Alliance soldier. If I go with you, won’t that make me AWOL?”
Shepard felt her lips twitch in a grin. “Do you still want to come?”
“Absolutely.”
“A Spectre is allowed to recruit anyone in Council space to assist during missions. As soon as we clear the system, we’ll be sending a data packet to the Alliance fleet. Included in that will be official transfer papers for you, Dr. Chakwas and Joker. Everyone else is more flexible in their status.”
“Oh.” Sam dimpled again. “Glad to hear it, Commander.”
“Don’t worry, Samantha, I’ll always take care of you as best I can.”
That prompted an even warmer smile that made Shepard tingle, even though she did her best to stifle it, especially since she knew Liara could now detect everything. But she couldn’t help natural, biological responses, and she had always been the sort to look even if she had no intention of pursuing anything further. Liara understood that or, at least, Shepard hoped she did. It was going to be a very long voyage, after all.
She felt a fleeting nudge in her mind, a little admonishing touch of combined tolerance and disdain that nearly made her laugh out loud. This bond thing would require some acclimatizing, but she was happy to do it. There’d been no chance to get used to it in London where sensing Liara’s emotions should have been extremely distracting, but soldiers were very good at compartmentalizing in the heat of battle and Shepard was better than most. Now, however, she had the luxury of experiencing the full implication of being bonded to an asari. It should prove to be very interesting, just like their lovemaking. Far more interesting than being married to a human, at any rate.
“Commander, I have a request from the Migrant Fleet.” Joker’s voice crackled in her ear. “C-Sec Officer Bailey requests permission to bring a shuttle over.”
“Permission granted, Joker.” Shepard wondered what Bailey wanted.
She headed back to the war room where she continued her coordination with Veetor in gathering the necessary supplies for the Normandy’s upcoming mission. From him, she learned that the quarians were also taking advantage of the small track cut through the debris field to salvage what they could from the Citadel for themselves, being as unobtrusive as possible to remain undetected by the other fleets. Looked down on by the other species during their nomadic existence, quarians had learned to use what few opportunities they had, which made them the perfect fleet to travel with. An hour later, Joker buzzed that Bailey’s shuttle had arrived.
“I’ll meet him in the conference room, Joker,” Shepard instructed, finishing up with Veetor before heading to the outer area. To her surprise, Baily wasn’t waiting for her alone. He was accompanied by a willowy asari that Shepard recognized instantly.
“Matriarch Aethyta.” Shepard reached out her hand and grasped the blue-skinned arm tightly, honestly glad to see her. “We had no idea you were still alive.”
“I don’t die that easy, Shepard. You should know that,” Aethyta said, returning Shepard’s grasp firmly. In contrast to her slender frame and delicate features, her voice was throaty, deeper than most asari. She also had a way about her, similar to Aria in demeanor, that made Shepard suspect that any sex with them would always involve a lot more protrusion than inversion.
Swallowing back her smile at the thought, Shepard dipped her head. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me, but I know Liara will be so relieved when she finds out. I think she was worried about you.”
“No reason to be,” Aethyta said, sounding surprised.
“What happened, anyway? There was no trace of you after the Cerberus attack on the Citadel.”
“I had left the station before that,” Aethyta said. “Joined up with the commando team I gave to Liara.”
“Oh, I don’t think Liara knew that.” Indeed, Shepard was certain of it because Liara hadn’t hesitated in dispatching that squadron into some of the most intense areas of the conflict. Regardless of how tenuous Liara’s relationship was with her paternal parent, Shepard doubted she would be so dispassionate about putting Aethyta in such extreme danger.
“That was the point.”
Shepard suspected that wouldn’t go over well, but she forced a smile. “Liara’s down on the crew deck. In her office. She might not admit it, but I think she’s really missed having her father around.”
“I can find my way.”
After Aethyta left, Shepard noticed Bailey looking after her, an odd expression on his face. “That’s T’Soni’s dad?”
Shepard nodded. “They were estranged, but the war brought them together. It’s an…evolving relationship.”
He let out his breath in a huff. “I was flirting with her all the way here,” he admitted.
“Oh?”
“I think she was flirting back.”
Shepard opened her mouth to respond, hesitated, and swallowed back her grin. “It’s a brave new universe, chief.”
“You can say that again,” he said and exhaled forcefully. “Never been with an asari.”
“Better go get the Talk, then,” Shepard said, straight-faced. “That way, there are no surprises, and besides, it’s the responsible thing to do. I know speaking with the doc saved me a whole lot of embarrassment when the time finally came for Liara and me.”
“Good advice.” He dipped his head and regarded her from below his brows. “I hear you’re heading out, soon.”
“Really? Where’d you hear that?”
“Around,” he said vaguely. “Any room for one more?”
Shepard blinked. “You want to come? It’s a long trip.”
“Now that the Citadel is toast, I’m sort of in the market for a job. I think it would be interesting to work for a Spectre.”
Shepard considered it. “Hours are long. Pay isn’t great, though better than Alliance standard, assuming the Spectre funding remains intact. Just remember the Normandy is a hell of a lot smaller than the Citadel.”
“I get that,” he said. “But you’ll still need some kind of security presence, depending on how often you need to stop for supplies.”
“That we will,” Shepard said. “If you’re sure about this, I’ll be glad to have you. Find a bunk and make yourself at home.”
All the lines in his face abruptly relaxed, making him look less craggy, and she realized he’d been considerably worried about being refused. “Thanks, Commander. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t, chief.”
She sat there for a long moment after he left, assessing her status. With Bailey, that brought the crew compliment up to eleven. Aria and Narl’s presence, uncertain as their loyalty was, made thirteen. Shepard wasn’t superstitious, but she still made a mental note that it was an unlucky number.
An abrupt burst of anger, fear, consternation and dismay filled her mind and before she knew it she was out of the chair and sprinting out of the conference room for the elevator. She fretted in the seconds it took to descend to the crew deck and then she was dashing through the doors and running through the mess hall to Liara’s office where she burst through the door, unarmed but ready to rumble.
Liara and Aethyta paused mid-argument to stare at Shepard who suddenly felt foolish. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “I felt…well, it wasn’t good.”
Liara’s puzzled expression cleared. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just heard something that upset me.”
Aethyta, glancing back and forth between them, abruptly scowled. “Wait a minute, have you done what I think you’ve done?” She was every centimeter the outraged father and Shepard figured she probably should have stayed in the CIC.
Liara straightened. “We’re bonded, Aethyta. It happened on Earth.”
“And you didn’t invite me!?” Her outrage was genuine. There may have even been a little hurt mixed in. Shepard felt approximately two millimeters tall.
“It wasn’t anything formal,” she said lamely, thinking back to the room in the burned out building off Piccadilly Circus, rubble scattered around them. “We were about to retake Earth.”
“That’s no excuse.” Aethyta shot a stern look at Liara. “Now I have to come on this mission. We have an occasion to plan.”
Liara’s blue features darkened, becoming almost purple while Shepard forced her jaw shut from where it had fallen open. “Wait! What? You want to come with us? How did you know we were leaving?”
“I hear things,” Aethyta said. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
“Damn it,” Shepard said, worried about what might happen now.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, we’re all good,” Aethyta explained. “The Council needs you out there as a Spectre, more than the Alliance needs you here. That’s why there’s an unspoken agreement among the fleets to keep what they’re hearing on the down low. No one I know will say anything that might get back to the Alliance.”
Shepard was stymied. So many questions crowded her mind that she didn’t know what to ask first. Except that Liara’s continued consternation lingered in her mind.
“But why do you want to come with us?”
“Because I should be with my daughter at this special time in her life,” Aethyta said acidly, as if it should be obvious and Shepard was pretty dim for not knowing that. “Especially since her mother can’t.”
“But…I don’t need you,” Liara protested weakly.
“Of course you do,” Aethyta said dismissively. She shot a look at Shepard. “I’ll find a bunk.”
And before either of them could say anything else, she turned and left, the door hissing shut behind her with finality. Shepard brought her hand up to her face and rubbed her eyes.
At least that brought the count up to fourteen. That wasn’t unlucky, was it?
Liara put her fingertips to her temples and rubbed fretfully. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered.
“That makes two of us,” Shepard said. “But she’s tough and smart and it’s always nice to have family around.”
Liara shot her a look that caused Shepard to make that face, the one where she was trying not to laugh, even though her amusement was readily evident in Liara’s mind. “You know she’s beginning to consider herself your paternal influence now, as well. A ‘father-in-law’.”
“Ooohh. Ouch. Okay, I deserved that.” Shepard tilted her head, offering Liara a quizzical look. “You good?”
“Yes.” Liara softened. “You really didn’t have to rush down here like you did.”
“Hey.” Shepard stepped closer, reaching out to wrap Liara up in a strong embrace. Brushing her lips over the tip of Liara’s nose, teasing and tender, she added, “Anytime I feel something like that, I’m always going to come find you.”
Liara smiled and lifted her head to kiss her. She rather liked this Shepard, free of the Reaper burden, far more playful and loving, not only with her but the rest of the crew. It made her realize how it could have always been between them if it hadn’t been for the impending calamity, and it made her love her even more. Still, she had to get one thing out in the open.
“Speaking of sharing emotion, will I have to feel you flirting with every attractive woman that comes along?”
“It’s not flirting exactly,” Shepard said in a mild voice. “It’s appreciation. But you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m like a dog, loyal to the bone.”
“I get that,” Liara said. “And I suppose I don’t mind it so much with Tali, or even Samantha. They both recognize it for what it is. You being…appreciative. But Aria could misconstrue it for something else.”
“Really? I find that hard to believe. She’s been around the block. Hell, she probably bought the block, tore it down and built a strip joint on top of it.”
“I mean, she’ll perceive it as a weakness and try to exploit it,” Liara insisted.
Shepard appeared unperturbed. “Then its best she keeps thinking that’s my weakness,” she pointed out logically. “So long as you know it’s not.”
Liara considered that as Shepard nuzzled along her aural crest, making it hard for her to think. “All right,” she said, and quivered as Shepard nibbled down the line of her neck. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Probably,” Shepard said. “Though, while I have you here, I need to tell you about the structural changes we’ll be making to the ship.”
“Oh?” Liara was flattered that Shepard seemed to think she now needed to run ship decisions by her, though also a little apprehensive at the implication. She didn’t want anyone to think that being bonded to Shepard would grant her undue influence with the ship’s captain. “What sort of changes?”
“Well, for one, you can’t stay here.”
“What?” Liara drew back. “What do you mean?”
Shepard lifted her hand, motioning to her surroundings. “We’re going to need this space. It’s going to be broken down into three small individual cabins, one for Garrus, one for Joker, and one for Javik. Especially Javik. He can’t stay in the cargo hold. We’re going to need all that space for supplies. And while Garrus was always willing to bunk down in the main battery and Joker liked sleeping in the pilot’s chair, that’s no longer going to work on such a long voyage. People are going to need space that’s completely their own, even if it’s nothing more than a bunk and a locker in the crew quarters. For senior crew, that means a cabin, no matter how small. The doc will be set up in the old AI core room off sickbay.”
Liara looked at her work console running nearly three quarters of the length of her quarters on one side, and the variety of scientific equipment on the other. “Where am I supposed to go?”
Shepard flinched a little, probably because she was picking up on Liara’s mingled dismay and outrage rather than because she felt defensive about any of her decisions. Liara knew better than anyone that when Shepard decided to do something, very little deterred her.
“Well, we’ll be stashing your Shadow Broker equipment into the secure vid comm room where I did all my talking with Alliance brass. We don’t really need a holographic transmitter taking up that much space, not with where we’re going. The war room is going to be changed over to a lab where you can put your scientific equipment. There’s a lot of empty area around there that wasn’t utilized before. We’re going to reclaim it for astrophysics analysis and planetary study, or whatever else we need scientifically. That’ll be your area of expertise.”
“I see,” Liara said slowly, realizing that Shepard was doing what was best for the ship, but unable to stop feeling the slightest bit put out. “And me? Am I supposed to live in the lab?”
She looked at the large double bed at the far end of the room, located in a space that even included a living area with a sofa and a beverage maker. On a ship Normandy’s size, she knew it was an extravagance, but one she would sincerely regret losing. On the other hand, she had spent more than her fair share of time living in sparse conditions that included a simple tent pitched on a variety of dusty archaeology sites. She'd just have to get used to it again.
Shepard paused, and Liara pinned her with a look when she sensed the sudden doubt that flavored her emotions. That didn’t seem like the commander at all.
“Well, we won’t have as many crewmembers as we did,” Shepard said. “There are plenty of bunks in the crew quarters. We’ll even be taking some out to make it a little more spacious.” She bent her head, peering at her from beneath her lashes. “Or there’s always a bunk on deck one, if you’re interested.”
“Oh.” Belatedly, Liara figured out what that meant. “Can we do that?”
Shepard shrugged. “Well, we’re bonded now. Isn’t that like being married? Married couples should live together.”
Liara examined that, realizing that she hadn’t really considered that outcome. There was a sudden rush of uncertainty and hurt in her mind and immediately, she turned and embraced Shepard, holding her close. “Of course, we should,” she said intently, knowing Shepard would be able to pick up on her acceptance and love. Shepard’s body, initially stiff, relaxed. “I’m sorry, I know I should have thought about this already. I guess we’ve been on a war footing for so long that moving forward will involve simple domestic alterations that simply hadn’t occurred to me before now.”
“You’re right,” Shepard said, hugging her as she rested her head on Liara’s shoulder. “I supposed bonding in the middle of a battlefield isn’t exactly the best way to start off as a couple.”
“And bonding isn’t exactly marriage,” Liara added gently. “It transcends marriage, but legally, it’s more like being engaged, becoming monogomous. The legal status does require a formal ceremony.”
“Ah, okay, I’m glad you explained that. But you’re still moving in with me, right?”
“Of course,” Liara said. “If you’ll have me.”
“I’ve already had you,” Shepard said, that wry humor tasting of dry apples.
Liara sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” Shepard allowed in a gentler tone, nuzzling Liara’s aural crevice, making her tingle. “I know that living together will be a change, especially in the cramped quarters like we have, but I’ll do my best to be a good roommate.”
“At least you’re neat,” Liara said.
“And as soon as we’re settled, we’ll have your father up for dinner.”
“Oh, Goddess,” Liara muttered. “Any other changes planned?”
“We’ll be setting up a cabin for Tali near engineering. If we seal it properly, we might even be able to create a place where she can remove her biosuit.”
Liara smiled. Tali, growing up in the crowded conditions of the Migrant Fleet, had always found the Normandy spacious and somewhat empty, even when carrying the full complement of crew, and had seemed quite content with a bunk in the small corner of the crew quarters. She would probably be overwhelmed to have such a significant space all her own. “She’ll be thrilled.”
“I know,” Shepard said. “We’re hoping to make it a surprise for her, so don’t say anything. She thinks we’re expanding the lower sub-deck by converting the starboard stairwell into cargo space.”
Liara thought she couldn’t love Shepard any more than she already did, but she just kept doing such thoughtful and caring things for other people that it caught the asari off guard. The emotion swelling within her nearly choked Liara with happiness and made Shepard shiver a little. Her grip tightened to the point that Liara was nearly unable to breathe, but she didn’t care.
“You are the most wonderful person I know,” Liara murmured in her ear.
The rush of bashfulness was honeyed, and made her seek out Shepard’s mouth and kiss her, lingering over her lips for as long as she could.
“Hmm, I have to get back to work.” Shepard drew back reluctantly, regret tinged bittersweet in Liara’s mind.
“I know,” Liara said. “Do you want me to start moving my belongings right away?”
Shepard smiled. “That would be fantastic. I don’t want to ever spend another night without you. In the meantime, I’ll make sure you’re cleared to fully access the captain’s quarters.”
“Perhaps we could do something special this evening,” Liara promised.
“Sounds great.”
After Shepard left, Liara looked around the cabin, trying to figure out what to do first. She didn’t really have many personal belongings, a few books, items for personal grooming, a photo of Shepard that was kept in a drawer because displaying it made the Shadow Broker appear too vulnerable, a few special outfits for shore leave and some small Prothean relics from her very first dig site. She was doubtful it would alter the captain’s cabin much at all. But the space would suddenly be shared with someone and that would be a change for both of them, an alteration in their relationship that had to be acknowledged.
She wondered how humans signified such a key moment. She would ask Samantha, she thought. The comm specialist might have a suggestion or two that would allow Liara to show Shepard that she was taking this evolution of their life together as a couple seriously. She wished she hadn’t reacted as she had when Shepard asked her, but she’d been surprised, and change always generated a bit of fear and anxiety within her. She just didn’t want Shepard to think those emotions had been about her. Yes, she’d definitely have to do something special this evening, probably involving a great deal of lovemaking.
That worked to smooth over ruffled feelings regardless of species.
Shepard stood just behind Joker in the cockpit, watching through the transparencies above as ship after ship flew silently past. The asari fleet was headed back to Thessia where they would begin work on rebuilding their world. Soon, the turian fleet would depart for Palavan after dropping off the krogan in their home system where the females would undoubtedly welcome them to an entirely new way of life. The salarians had already left, intent on returning to Sur’Kesh where their technological acuity would likely rebuild their systems quicker than any of the other civilizations.
It occurred to Shepard that an unofficial race was about to begin, driven by the urgency to have home worlds and arrays reconstructed before anyone else in order to get a jump on reforming the galactic Council. She suspected humans would win that tacit competition, even though Earth had been hit first and hardest by the Reapers. The other species had always complained about how aggressive and insidiously expansive Terrans were. Now they would discover just how correct that assessment had been.
Not to mention that Earth now had the Citadel in orbit. Used as the center for galactic politics for centuries, it would probably serve that function again. Plus, word had reached her that the Keepers had somehow regenerated. Quarian salvage teams reported seeing movement in various parts of the wards where no movement should be, and at least one image had been captured of the insect-like creatures that never communicated with anyone but worked tirelessly to maintain their home. By the time she returned to this part of the galaxy, the battered space station might be entirely restored. It wouldn’t surprise her.
Though Shepard would never lose that memory of a vast room full of harvested corpses, being picked over by the Keepers as if they were nothing more than a collection of organic parts, uncaring as they went about their business.
Repressing a shudder, she put her hand on Joker’s shoulder. “Status on the Rayya?”
The quarrian ship dispatched to Earth was the only thing holding the Migrant Fleet in the Solar system. They wouldn’t begin to move until the Rayya dropped off the refugees and was on her way back to the departure point next to Pluto. Until that happened, Shepard dreaded seeing the approach of an Alliance vessel, indicating that they had finally figured out the Citadel had been evacuated and that Shepard had somehow slipped out the back door.
As far as she was concerned, until they managed to make it past the border marking the outer limits of the solar system, just past the shattered remains of the mass relay into Council space, she would have to obey any order to recall her. She was still that much of an Alliance soldier. And once Ashley and James had reported to the nearest Alliance base, all hell would break lose. They’d delay, but they certainly wouldn’t lie for her, nor would Shepard want them to.
“The Rayya’s just breaking orbit,” Joker announced. “ETA to fleet is two hours.”
“Good,” Shepard said, though she suspected those two hours would be the longest of her life. “As soon as the Migrant Fleet has cleared the system, have Samantha transmit the data packet to Admiral Hackett along with apologies for our malfunctioning comm system. Low priority. Hopefully, it’ll get lost in the system queue for a while.”
“Understood, Commander.” Joker looked up at her, offering a grin. “Stay calm. We’re going to make it.”
Shepard inhaled deeply. “I hope you’re right.”
“How’s our guest?” Joker added, a sardonic edge to his tone.
Shepard, who’d ordered part of the starboard observation lounge opposite the library be set up as quarters for Aria, shook her head. “Still complaining about the cramped conditions. I don’t know why she’s so unhappy. She has a whole cabin. Liara’s dad has to bunk in the crew quarters with Bailey and Narl.”
“You know Arai. She probably wanted your quarters.”
“Sorry, Liara and I are quite happy there.” Shepard suppressed a tiny quiver of mingled lust and satisfaction as the memory from a couple of nights ago lingered in her mind. Liara had christened their new living arrangements with a candlelit dinner, wine, soft music, a special negligee that Shepard had no idea Liara owned, or would ever think to own, and several exquisite hours of the most passionate physical and mental joining that had left Shepard walking a little funny, even now.
From somewhere in her office at the rear of the ship, she felt a little tingle from Liara in response and had to smile.
“She makes you happy,” Joker said, a little wistfully, and Shepard realized that she’d been smiling a lot lately, far more than she had in her life to date. “I’m glad. No one deserves it more, Commander.”
“Thanks, Joker.”
Shepard didn’t try to return the sentiment, knowing it was too soon and the memory of EDI far too raw. But she knew he would find someone eventually. If only he would notice the looks Daniels kept sending his way whenever they happened to be in the mess hall at the same time, it might happen sooner than later.
Fraternization between crewmates was no longer a thing to be frowned upon. Not only did the captain have someone special, their upcoming journey would require a certain latitude in how relationships were handled. Already, she had inadvertently walked in on Garrus and Tali sharing a private moment, though how that would work in reality as opposed to theory was beyond her. She supposed Dr. Chakwas had it well in hand, having insisted on gathering the crew together in the mess hall one evening for a discussion on alien relations that included an invitation for more extensive conversation involving mixing and matching physiologies should anyone in the crew require it. Shepard had emphasized the point by making it clear that anyone about to embark on a personal relationship was required to have the Talk with the doctor. That having the Talk, in fact, was considered procedure, and anyone who failed to comply would be censored. She tried not to look in the direction of Tali and Garrus when she made the pronouncement, though they, more than anyone, had to be properly prepared if they chose to make their relationship physical.
Of course, there was the other side of that coin, and Shepard realized that as well. The reason fraternization was frowned upon on most military ships was the potential for emotional fall out when a relationship ended badly. Where they were headed and how they were getting there left little wiggle room for people who might be nursing hard feelings about someone else for whatever reason. She’d need to intervene if something like that occurred, which didn’t make her entirely comfortable, but she wasn’t about to ignore the potential burden placed upon her.
Deep space travel was a whole lot different than jumping from system to system via mass array. She needed to accept everything that meant, including knowing how to manage interpersonal relationships. Though she suspected David Anderson was laughing his head off at her wherever his spirit had ended up. She was also glad they were traveling with the Migrant Fleet. The quarian admirals knew how to administer ships that were homes as opposed to vehicles better than anyone, and suspected she’d be bending Shala’Raan’s ear more than once in the upcoming months.
Shepard noticed Joker glancing over at the copilot seat that EDI had favored, and made a mental note to assign someone to that station, someone to whom Joker could talk and wouldn’t try to murder him over his incessant jokes. Aethyta would probably be perfect. When Shepard first met her, she’d been working as a bartender on Illium, not only because it was a great place to keep an eye on her daughter, but because she enjoyed the psychological aspect of the job, possessing a knack for dispensing advice and lending an ear. Plus, her no-nonsense attitude would slap Joker back into shape if he decided to start wallowing in his grief again. Shepard suspected that the asari matron would know her way around a starship, or if she didn’t, she’d quickly learn enough of the basics to be able to fill the position.
She was also considering where to place Aria and Narl. The batarian was not going to operate as Aria’s little lieutenant on the Normandy. Shepard would make sure of that. She decided he could work in engineering with Tali who would keep an eye on him and work him so hard that he wouldn’t have any energy left to carry out any little side operation Aria might come up with. As for Aria, herself, Shepard didn’t know what skills the club owner possessed, outside of shooting people. She wondered if she’d agree to work in maintenance and spent several enjoyable minutes imagining how that conversation would go.
“Commander, can I see you in the CIC?” came Sam’s sultry voice over the comm.
Shepard tapped her ear. “On my way.” She slapped Joker on the shoulder. “Get us out of here as soon as we’re clear to depart. The Migrant Fleet will be skirting Alliance space until we reach the Attican Traverse. Once we reach the Ninmah Cluster, ETA, six months, we’ll break off for the Omega Nebula while they continue on to the Perseus Veil.” It was ridiculous to be plotting a course that took months instead of hours, but she couldn’t break the habit.
“On it, Commander.”
“What do you have, Traynor?” Shepard asked as soon as she made her way back through the operations level where Donnelly and Daniels had accepted promotions from engineering to the upper deck to cover stations monitoring life support and systems maintenance respectively. Back in the CIC, other key stations were being manned by Garrus, Bailey, and Javik, who were being trained to cover any console. There’d be no more hanging out in the main battery doing calibrations or sulking in a cargo bay, constantly washing his hands. Everyone needed to contribute beyond just leaving the ship to shoot at things.
“I’m picking up chatter from the Alliance fleet,” Sam said in a low voice. “They’ve been unable to raise anyone on the Citadel and they’re making plans to send over a shuttle to see what’s going on.” She paused. “They’ve finally detected the path that’s been cut through the debris field.”
“Cat’s out of the bag, now,” Shepard said. “Let’s hope we’ve cleared Alliance space before they put out a system wide alert requesting I report in.”
“They might not want to let anyone know they’ve misplaced the Hero of the Galaxy,” Sam suggested. “Or think Aria arranged it. That will delay any transmission to the departing fleets inquiring about who might be working with the people on the Citadel when they hadn’t bothered to rescue them in the first place.”
“Yes, the fine art of politics can only help us now,” Shepard said. “Ironic as that sounds.”
“We could leave. Fly on ahead of the Migrant Fleet. Let them catch up.”
“No, they’d pick up on a single ship leaving the system and identify it as the Normandy,” Shepard said. “That would provoke them into investigating. At that point, even if we could pretend we don’t have communications back on line, they’d dispatch a ship to pursue, and be within their rights to demand our return once they caught up to us. No, we have to hide among all the other vessels in the Migrant Fleet and hope we’re so far away before they send out an inquiry to the quarians about the Citadel that it isn’t worth sending a ship after us.”
“You’d really go back if they told you to?”
“I would never disobey a direct order,” Shepard said. “The only way this works is if they don’t know where I am to transmit it.”
“Not even as a Spectre?”
Shepard smiled. “I can always claim Spectre status, Sam. That isn’t what this is about. I want the Normandy as my ship. I want my friends as crew, which includes my fiancée who happens to be the Shadow Broker, some ex C-Sec officers, and a quarian as my chief engineer. I want to be able to head for the Terminus systems to take Aria home because that’s the mission I chose to carry out. I think I deserve that much, but I don’t want to spend the next two to three years arguing with bureaucrats in order to make it happen.”
“Commander, the Migrant Fleet has been given clearance to move,” Joker transmitted. “Preparing for light speed. We’re in line just behind the Tonbay, bracketed by the Neema and the Idenna. Their FTL signatures will help mask any trace of ours.”
Shepard stepped up to the command console and brought up the galaxy map, activating the course that had already been programmed in. “Take us out, Joker.”
She exhaled slowly, feeling as free as she had ever felt.
“Standing by for FTL,” Tali sounded thrilled. She finally had a starship of her very own to maintain.
“FTL engaged. Exiting outer limits of Sol,” Joker said.
And as light speed was engaged and they left the Alliance farther and farther behind, Commander Shepard stopped looking back and started looking ahead. The whole galaxy was laid out before her, free of Reaper threat, waiting for what she would do next.
Life was sweet indeed.
The End