"This is the helm. Be advised, shore party is enroute. ETA five minutes."
Liara's fingers paused over her keyboard as Joker's announcement came over the ship's intercomm. Even in the midst of the overnight watch, she knew that a few crewman would be moving to meet the shuttle in the ship's lower deck per standard procedure. She ignored the way her heart demanded that she join them.
It wasn't time. Not yet.
She had been monitoring the shore party's internal combat comms net, unsuccessfully trying to distract herself by reviewing Crucible construction reports. It was difficult to be back on the Normandy while Shepard was down on the surface. Many had underestimated her abilities in combat, but certainly not Shepard. At this point, long and bloody months into the grinding war, she had done her best to harden her heart. Shepard was a soldier, her place was on the battlefield, in the midst of the most dangerous flashpoints of the war, right where Hackett-and the galaxy-needed her. Liara supported these efforts best with her sources, her information, and resources.
"This is the helm. Shore party is aboard. Mission support party report to the shuttle bay."
With a few keystrokes, Liara brought up the visual feed from within the shuttle bay, watching the Kodiak gently touched down on the deck. Vega, followed by Garrus, and then Shepard stepped out after a moment. The three shed the weapons attached to their backs, handing them to crewmen for storage back in the armory.
At the sight of her lover's familiar armored form, Liara felt the shell around her heart start to crack. It had been impossible for her to ignore the fear that had squeezed her heart as she listened to combat rage around her bondmate. The whine of bullets and roar of explosions, the machine-like guttural whine of Reaper ground troops, and the tight, adrenaline-laced tone of Shepard's voice as she gave orders once the team came under fire...it all caused Liara's body to tense with the strain, with worry, with helplessness.
She banished the thoughts from her mind with a sound of disgust.
Now was not the time. Not yet.
Shepard's voice sounded small over the video feed on Liara's monitor as she moved from the shuttle to the waiting lieutenant who served as the ship's armorer.
"I need you to check on the right weapons bracket; I think it took a shot back there and the actuator's acting a bit sluggish. Otherwise everything should check out-good work installing that new shield mod we picked up," she said with a small, firm smile.
Reaching to a spot near her underarms, slightly underneath the layered ceramic breastplate, the Commander pushed the releases for the Hahne-Kedar chest and backplates, unlocking them from the hardpoints on the armored undersuit. With a practiced motion she tugged the breastplate off, looking down at it in her armored hand, rubbing idly at a large smear of sooty dark ochre that partially obscured the N7 emblem before handing it to the lieutenant.
"Sorry for the mess. We ran into husks..."
"No problem ma'am. Nothing a little decon and a round in omni-fab can't fix," the armorer answered, helping Shepard pull off the backplate before heading over to assist Vega.
"Thanks, lieutenant. I'm headed up to my cabin, I'll get the rest of it down to you." The Commander shifted her focus, heading aft for the elevator. "Joker, get us out of this system before the Reapers call for reinforcements, then send a message to Hackett. We got the data he needed, but the colony is completely overrun. No signs of surviv-."
Liara cut the video feed as the elevator doors closed behind Shepard. Now...now she knew that she was needed. Now, she knew that it was time for her to open her heart.
Shepard waited until the door to her cabin closed before letting go of her iron-hard control, the last of the combat adrenaline washing from her like water wrung from a cloth, her shoulders sagging with fatigue. She exhaled, sitting down on the deck across from her desk, her back resting against the bulkhead under the fishtank.
As a soldier, as a Spectre, she knew what was riding on her shoulders; she knew it better than most. Ever focused on the next task, the next mission, the next Reaper weak spot, she was consumed with buying time for Hackett and the Crucible. For the galaxy...
The door hissed open and Shepard looked over her shoulder, eyes resting on Liara as the asari stepped into the cabin. "Hey," Shepard greeted her softly.
Crossing the few steps to where her bondmate was sitting, she too sat down on the deck next to the human, gently resting her hand on Shepard's armored knee.
"I followed the tactical channel," Liara began, "It sounded as if the colony was hit harder by the Reapers than Hackett thought."
"Yeah," Shepard sighed, "Alliance intel doesn't have the coverage they used to have in this sector."
Leaning in, Liara reached out to Shepard, practiced hands finding the release catches hidden in her armor, lifting the segments from her shoulders and arms off the hardsuit mounts. "Yes, even my operatives in that region have gone dark. I wish I'd had more intel."
There were many heartbeats of silence between them, the only sound the dull click as Liara set the armor pieces aside on the deck. Her hands returned to rest on Shepard's legs, barely noticing the smudges of ash and soot that now stained her white gloves.
Shepard's gaze was distant, focused not at Liara, but inward. "There wasn't anyone left alive down there, Liara. There must've been a hundred Dragon's Teeth, and the rest...," Shepard swallowed hard, "...they didn't even go after the relay tracking data, after the intel, just the colonists. If we had been faster...if I had been faster-"
Liara surged forward, her hands clasping Shepard's tightly, squeezing until the Commander's eyes refocused on hers, pulling her out of the nightmare of the last few hours, and back to the present. Back to her.
"You know that that's not true, Shepard; it's not your fault," she said emphatically, "None of this is. Blame the Reapers, not yourself."
Doubt clouded her lover's features. "But-"
Shifting, Liara moved so that she was in front of her bondmate, kneeling between her splayed legs. One hand clasped Shepard's, the other coming to rest lightly against the other woman's neck, fingertips gentle on the back of her neck while her thumb caressed the curve of her jaw. Her gaze reassuring, Liara leaned forward, closing the distance between them.
Her lover smelled like smoke and fire and blood, accentuated by the metallic ozone smell of weapons fire. Despite the armor, despite the layers that were supposed to protect her, the heat and carnage of the battle had seeped into her skin.
Liara's lips found Shepard's, a gentle affirmation of her love, of her faith in the Commander. Moments passed before she drew back, leaning her forehead against her lover's.
She reached out with her mind, softly brushing her consciousness against Shepard's. Her bondmate's mind was a roiling sea of emotion, of pain that had been hidden deep within the discipline of her heart. Liara's thoughts were soothing, loving, reaching out to ease the hurt, to banish the doubt. Shepard hesitated, but Liara caught glimpses of thoughts that boiled to the surface of her troubled mind.
"I don't want you to see this Liara," Shepard said, her voice tight.
With her mind and her body, Liara projected a feeling of patience and nonjudgmental calm. "Please, Shepard. You are not alone. I love you-your burden is my burden."
Shepard's resistance crumbled and she embraced Liara's mind with hers, letting the lines between Shepard and Liara blur as the meld was joined.
I see them sometimes, in my dreams. I hear them cry. The screaming is the worst...
Liara felt the pang of loss, of helplessness, as images spilled from Shepard's mind to hers, a powerful wave of memory breaking through the dam.
An entire city on fire, dark shapes falling from the sky, running away knowing that hundreds were dying as every retreating footstep fell.
A young boy, running through an ashen forest, accusing whispers winding through the trees...
Piles of corpses, some smaller than others, amongst prefab colony buildings...
I am so tired...
Words failed Liara. For every dark emotion she could feel residing in Shepard's heart, she drew from within her to counter it. Shame and doubt in failure met with confidence and pride in battles won and odds beaten. Grief and sorrow were blunted with joy at lives saved. Memories of death overwhelmed with recollections of love. Gradually, the storm in Shepard's heart was dashed on the rocks of Liara's steadfast determination and affection.
They stayed like that for some time, locked in the ebb and flow of shared emotion. Liara felt Shepard relax, leaning into her touch as the whispers in her mind retreated.
Liara, I...thank you. Her lips brushed the asari's, a soft kiss that deepened, drawing strength and comfort from the contact. So real, so alive, so visceral.
Never thank me for loving you, she returned.
Her hand slid down the Commander's neck, two fingers pressing on the recessed suit nodes on either side of her spine, just above the shoulder blades. With a low hum, the EM field that held together the seam of the Graphene-Titanium weave armor deactivated, a narrow line in the suit opening down Shepard's back to her waist.
Wordless emotions threaded through Liara's mind as Shepard's heart found its footing, a voiceless denunciation of death, and a need to revel in life, in the now, in them.
Liara pulled the layers of the suit forward, peeling it down her lover's shoulders, then rocking back to her heels and standing with a final kiss, taking a step towards the shower.
Come with me...
War raged around them, threatening to consume them and the bond they shared. But for now, they took refuge in each other, in the quiet moment together. Neither fear, nor doubt, nor death could part them.
It wasn't time. Not yet.