Chapter One
The sky was a lovely shade of gold as the sun started to set. Tar'lira wasn't sure how long she'd been staring at it, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to look away from it either. Instead, she just stared, her mind off in another world. She was supposed to be working on her thesis. She should have been working on it for the last month. It was due in another week, but she hadn't been able to get herself to focus on it despite quite a bit of trying. Her mother was going to be disappointed with her if she failed this.
Then again, Tar'lira was fairly certain that her mother was always disappointed in her.
Reaching up and rubbing her brow, she couldn't help but wish that she had hair. Humans were lucky in that respect. Whenever they became frustrated or agitated they could just shove their hands through their hair and grab it. As an Asari, she wasn't so lucky. Though she had a running theory that the lingering desire and envy was a trait that came from the human genes that resided somewhere in her DNA. Of course she had no proof of that. And it wasn't as if she could ask her mother about it. Every time that she asked her mother about her father, she'd get a faraway look in her eyes, one that was filled with such grief and yearning that it was almost easy to forget that her father had been dead for almost forty years now.
Pulling her eyes away from the window, she looked down at the piles of textbooks that arrayed the table in front of her. She already knew which one that she wanted. Digging into the pile of books, she pushed tome after tome aside until she had the one that she wanted. She could have used the computers and brought up things that way, but there was something about traditional printing from every world that had always fascinated her. To be able to hold something of such age and tradition in your hands... she knew that she was strange for that desire, but luckily enough her mother had always indulged her that strangeness.
Then again, when your mother was the Shadow Broker, there was little that was denied to you.
The pages fell open more from use than any effort at this point. She'd stared at the picture so many times that she had it memorized, but there was something about being able to see it that she'd always found comforting. The softened features that were not quite delicate, and almost childlike belayed the strength that resided inside of Commander Annora Shepard. Her eyes were a deep shade of brown, bright and expressive despite their rich, deep color. Long red curls were pinned back on top of her head except for a few stray strands that fell and framed her face. This woman was her father. The Hero of the Universe. Her father had fought for years trying to warn everyone about the coming of the Reapers. No one had listened until it had been almost too late. And in the end, Annora had paid the final price for that sacrifice.
Her fingers lightly brushed the polished picture wishing that it was a real person that she could touch. She loved her mother, but she'd always wanted to meet her father. She'd always wanted to be her father. To have an adventure. To fall in love. To be the hero. Instead, she'd gone to school as her mother wanted and started to study languages and cultures. Not that she didn't love it, but there was something... empty about just reading the stories about the people who actually got to live their lives while she was stuck at a university.
Closing the book, she tried to push the errant thoughts away. She wasn't getting any more work done tonight and it was late. Gathering up the various tomes that she'd brought out to attempt to study, she made sure that they were placed on the desk for the librarians, murmuring respectfully to them before she grabbed her bag and left. The campus was rather peaceful this late in the evening as the sun started to set. The wind was blowing gently across the grass causing it to sway and dance around in the field. There was something infinitely peaceful about D'ronesava University. It was part of the reason that her mother had actually agreed to it in the first place. If Liara had had her way then she would have kept Tar'lira far closer to home.
D'ronesava was a compromise.
Keeping her head down, she was glad that there were too many people who tried to say hello to her. Luckily after all this time, most people had realized that she wasn't really that interested in talking to any of them. It was a little comfort. But every little comfort was worth it when they were so few and far between. Besides, as much as she loved her mother, it was hard to be the daughter of one of the youngest and most influential matriarch's of the Asari race. Not to mention who her father was. No, sometimes anonymity was a very beautiful thing. At least when it involved people that you really didn't want to talk to.
Tar'lira was almost running by the time that she got to her apartment and slipped inside. She let out a long slow breath of relief as she made sure that the door was sealed behind her and let her bag slip to the ground next to the door. It was foolish to be so stressed about having to be around people She knew that. But she liked to think that it was because she'd always felt as if she didn't belong. Her mother had always tried to make her feel at ease, but there was only so much that even she could do. Both of them had always realized that. But it hadn't stopped Liara from trying, from persisting in doing everything that she could for the daughter that she loved more then anything. And Tar'liara had always adored her mother for that.
Slipping off her shoes, she moved into her apartment with a practiced ease as she shuffled towards the kitchen trying to decide what actually wanted to eat. There were always options She just couldn't actually decide until usually several minutes of debating at the very least. It was one of the few things that she looked forward to as strange as it probably seemed to some people.
Humming softly, she brought up a program on her omni-tool to start playing music, letting the sound flood the apartment. A smile curled her lips as she started to hum along to the soft strings. The music was Quarian. A fascinating culture that was finally getting to live again, in part thanks to her father. She still hoped to get the chance to meet one one day. To get to hear their stories first hand. Or maybe something more. Wishful thinking, probably, but she needed those hopes to get her through the day it seemed like.
A knock on the door jerked her attention away from the food in her kitchen. Frowning, Tar'lira moved to the door and pulled up the door's virtual screen that would allow her to see who was outside. She only had a moment to register her shock before an explosion slammed into the door and then her body, sending her flying backwards. She fell hard, slamming her head into the ground. She wasn't entirely sure how she was even still conscious as she stared almost blankly up at her apartment ceiling. Her mind had taken several steps backwards as she tried to grasp the chaos that had just been thrust into her life. She had to stay awake and aware. She knew that much. But her ears were ringing and darkness was pressing in at the edge of her vision.
She had been certain that She could still focus on the world around her, but someone's head leaning over her told her just how blurred the world actually was. They were saying something. She could hear the words, but they were muffled, not quite real. She thought she said something, but she couldn't be sure. Instead her body gave in, and she slipped into the darkness that waited to eager to claim her mind.