AN: The world and its characters (except for mine) belong to Bioware.

2183 CE

Shepard, in Liara T'Soni's opinion, would have been bored to tears at her own memorial.

It didn't really count as a funeral since there was no body but Udina and other high ranking Alliance members had put together this memorial to give people a sense of closure. Or something like that.

She hoped it was giving some to the humans who had shown up because it wasn't doing anything for her. Wrex's words when she'd asked him if he was coming kept echoing in her mind: I don't need Udina, of all people, to stand there and tell me what was good about Shepard. I'm not dishonoring her memory by going to something that represents everything she wasn't.

Liara closed her eyes as Councilor Udina spoke solemnly over the small shrine they had set up, speaking of Shepard and how she stood as a symbol for all humanity. She had to give him credit for finding a nice spot on the Presidium for the memorial service and making certain Shepard got proper honors. She would have been more impressed if she honestly believed he was doing it to honor Shepard's memory rather than making himself look good.

Still, for all the people that had showed up simply for the sake of putting on a show, there were more who had shown up to honor the commander. Louis Shepard, her uncle, had shown up, though his face was void of any expression. Neither of her cousins, Raymond and Mischa, were there but that wasn't a surprise. They had both decried Udina as a hypocrite and stated they would honor their cousin in a way she would have wanted. Janine Shepard, their mother, and Louis's first wife, had not said anything publically, but her club had been closed for several days, which was a sign enough of both her and Mischa's grief.

Tali'Zorah wasn't there. Liara had tried to get a message to her in time but they had both known she probably wouldn't make it. She imagined the quarian had her own way of honoring Shepard's memory. But Garrus Vakarian was also conspicuously absent and that did surprise and disappoint Liara. He was back on the Citadel, had gone back to C-sec while his Spectre training was going on, he had no excuse for not being there except he was particularly angry with Udina. He would have been willing to overlook them not making a big public deal about the Reapers, but it was becoming more and more obvious both Alliance and Citadel officials were trying to brush off Shepard's warnings about the rest of Sovereign's brethren and the threat they posed.

Captain...no, he was an Admiral now...Anderson stood off to Udina's side, not looking at the ambassador, his stance straight and proud, his eyes focused straight ahead without seeing anything. Like Wrex, Anderson didn't need Udina to tell him anything about Shepard. The admiral was one of her staunchest allies and a man Shepard had admired and held the utmost respect for. Almost everyone from the Normandy was here as well. Dr. Chakwas and Engineer Adams, and the surviving members of the rest of the crew. Kaidan Alenko was giving Udina the kind of cynical apprisal they were probably all feeling. Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, the Normandy's pilot, was slumped beside him, barely paying Udina any heed, lost in his own thoughts. Liara wished there was something she could do to comfort him, understood perfectly the guilt that ate at him. Shepard had sent her into one of the escape pods before going back to get Joker. She'd barely managed to get him into one of the last escape pods before the blow that had destroyed the Normandy completely had thrown her into space.

A suit malfunction, that's what they said it had to be. The general opinion was she had never had a chance once she'd gotten away from the Normandy. Most likely she was dead and her body destroyed from being pulled into the atmosphere of the planet below.

She had seen the questions in Kaidan's eyes, the same ones that echoed in her own. If one of them had gone back with her to get Joker, would they have been able to help her? It haunted her. Neither one of them had ever disobeyed a direct order from the commander before, but if they had that one time, would it have saved her?

She didn't know. Would never know. All she knew was one of the galaxy's brightest lights had been extinguished and would not be there to fight off the coming darkness. Liara closed her eyes again, her heart clenching painfully in fear and despair.

She'd lost track of whatever it was Udina intoning, his voice fading into little more than a drone in the background of her thoughts. She jolted when that drone was abruptly cut off with the loud smashing of glass as someone threw a bottle at the podium Udina was standing at and a voice snarled, "Bastard!"

Liara turned in her seat and her heart clenched painfully at the sight of Sargent Howard Kell, the Normandy's requisitions officer and one of its engineers, standing in the middle of the walkway leading up to the podium, swaying on his feet. No one had seen him since the escape pods had been rescued. He had just disappeared off the grid.

He looked awful. His shaggy hair was a mess and stubble covered his homely face. He wore one of the colorful shirts he was fond of when he was off duty but it was covered in stains and was open in the front, revealing a dirty white shirt beneath. He glared at the ambassador with bleary eyes, ignoring the guards stepping forward. Admiral Anderson motioned them back and moved down the aisle toward him. "Sargent Kell..."

Liara also rose to her feet as Howard pointed past Anderson to the ambassador. "Bastard. Standin' there like he knew her at all...like he didn' turn on her the second he coulda..."

"Howard, you're drunk..."

"Ya damned right I am." Howard swallowed visibly, his voice wavering. "Him 'n the rest of 'em are all talkin' about what a hero she was then turning around and stabbing her in the back. Were doin' it even before she died."

"Howard."

"An' you let 'em, Anderson! This," he made a flailing gesture all around him, "is a joke."

Liara reached them, then. She placed a hand on Howard's elbow and he swung his head to look at her. He had to stare for a few moments before recognition set in. "Liara...you know what I'm talkin' about."

She didn't see any reason to lie. "Yes."

"You heard 'em. Said she was disturbed...obsessed...that the beacon damaged her brain...paranoid. 'Too much stress from the trauma from Mindoir and Akuze', they said. 'The pressure of all of it was a little much for her', they said."

"Come on, Howard." Liara started to guide him back down the aisle, giving Anderson a nod, who returned to the front, ordering the guards to return to their positions.

Howard resisted at first, but eventually walked unsteadily with her, letting her hold him up. He paused at the entrance to glare back at Udina, eyes that suddenly weren't all that bleary sweeping across the room and the people in it, drawing himself up. "I'll tell you 'bout the real Arian Shepard. She was brilliant and courageous. She was single handedly the most stubborn, exasperating person I've ever met and she was born to raise hell. She was one of the Alliance's most versatile fighters and one of its greatest assets, which drove certain members of it absolutely insane. She could be the most ruthless bitch you ever met and had the most heart I've ever seen in anyone. She was fast and full of grace; she could be shallow and childish and sometimes it seemed like it was only pure bedamned luck that got any of us out alive from the kinds of situations we got dragged into alongside her. All that was her. That was my baby girl. And now she's dead and the universe is a darker place 'cause of it. And it's gonna get darker, no matter what these idiots try to tell you." He turned away, shoulders slumping. "You'll know she was right...that we all were...eventually. 'Course it'll be too late then."

There was no answer. Udina stood at the podium, face stony, and said nothing. Perhaps he knew even then that nothing he'd said that day would be remembered. It was the words of an old drunken engineer that history would remember best.

Howard let out a bitter laugh and stumbled out.

Very few people knew where Shepard's apartment on the Citadel was. She had made sure of it. It was a tiny, out of the way place on the Wards. Some people might have been surprised that she hadn't tried for a place on the Presidium but Liara, who had known her better than most, couldn't imagine Shepard living comfortably within all that carefully maintained tranquility. This section of the Wards- noisy and filled with cheap bars and tiny cafes with musicians playing on corners, vendors hawking from makeshift stalls, and preachers of every species and philosophy standing in squares and small parks lambasting passerby -suited Shepard much better.

Liara had only been there once or twice but Howard obviously knew his way well. He walked with unsteady determination through the crowds. Liara, worried Udina had sent C-sec or someone after him, followed, her heart aching for him. It was no secret that Howard's feelings for Arian Shepard ran deeper than subordinate to commander or even friendship. He'd been with her since her early days in the Alliance after she'd come out of the academy. She was an N7 marine, graduating from the Alliance's most brutal training program. A program so tough, Liara had learned, that even if a soldier dropped out of it, the mere fact he'd gotten into the program in the first place gave one a certain level of respect. But she was also a woman with a criminal background and a hard past. If she hadn't been a biotic, it was unlikely she would have gotten in at all, much less into the N program. As it was, she'd been shuffled off to the Attican Traverse to help protect colonies and improve relations between them and the Alliance. Howard had already been working the Traverse for years before he took Shepard under his wing, giving her guidance and advice even after she'd surpassed him in rank. They had worked almost non-stop together through those years up until they'd both joined the Normandy. He'd lost his own son during the brutal siege on Torfan and, though he'd never said it out loud until today, it was clear to anyone who spent more than five minutes around the two that Howard loved her like a daughter.

And now he had lost her, just like his first child.

Howard stumbled as he neared Shepard's apartment building and Liara stiffened as a tall figure in C-sec blue caught him by the elbow. Howard growled low in his throat and started to shake it off and paused, peering up. "Oh...Garrus."

Liara relaxed as she recognized the turian. "Garrus. I was afraid someone had sent C-sec after him..."

"They did," Garrus Vakarian said quietly. "Someone remembered seeing Howard on the vids and let me know. I convinced the Executor to let me take care of it." A bitter edge came to his voice. "He's very magnanimous toward Shepard now that she's dead."

Howard seemed to be sobering up a little, not swaying on his feet as much. "Didn't see you at the memorial, Garrus."

The turian met his gaze. "It's a joke."

Howard snorted out a laugh. "Wanna see her apartment. Think her uncle's going to take care of it soon but he said I could go in...just...just to see her one more time."

Neither Garrus or Liara had an answer for that, but they followed him. Liara studied Garrus out of the corner of her eye, trying to pinpoint exactly what was bothering her about him. Garrus was never easy to read and he was generally calm and composed, but there was something especially closed and guarded about his expression. However Shepard's death had affected him...and she refused to believe it had not...he was keeping it private.

Howard made his way down the corridor of the building to the back of the second floor. Mr. Shepard must have indeed made some arrangement for Howard because the voice recognition system on the door let him in.

It was tiny, a single room with a kitchen and bathroom, a screen on the wall, a tall locker, a desk and chair, and a bed that folded into a couch at the push of a button. All of it from the pillows to the decorations on the walls to the drapes on the windows were decked out in deep, rich colors. Sapphire blues and ruby reds, emerald greens and dull golds. On the Normandy, Shepard had worn clothing that echoed the Alliance's uniforms, blues and browns and grays, but off duty she had loved color.

The bed was folded up and it and the desk were piled up with datapads, sketchpads, and various drawing and writing tools. Howard wandered to the desk, letting his fingers run over the small collection of paper books that had been one of the only real indulgences Shepard had. They were books of poetry, mostly, with a few novels in the mix. Hanging on the wall above the desk was a circle of stone beads with a polished stone crucifix pendant. Rosary beads, Shepard had called them. Seeing it for the first time had surprised Liara, since Shepard wasn't religious, until she had explained the beads had belonged to her grandmother and her uncle had given them to her. They were passed down from mother to daughter and should have gone to her mother, so Louis had kept tradition and insisted she have it. While she didn't follow the religious aspect of the symbol, that didn't mean she couldn't honor her grandmother's memory.

Liara's gaze was drawn from Howard to the wall opposite the desk, a short length of corridor leading to the bathroom. Garrus was standing there, studying the drawings that covered it. There were many more drawings there now than there had been the last time she'd been here and it chilled her, wondering if Shepard's nightmares from the Prothean beacon had started up again. Apparently, they had. The wall was papered with drawings taken straight out of Shepard's visions. Liara, who had seen the vision herself, had a hard time looking at them for more than a few minutes. She could only guess what Garrus was thinking as he looked at them. She'd spotted a bottle of turian brandy on the counter of the kitchen amongst the other liquor bottles and wondered how many times Garrus had seen the drawings. There was no getting used to it: every single one was a carefully rendered scene of slaughter. Dim figures died, reaching out pleading hands toward an enemy that had no mercy, cities burned in stark black and white, and figures that reminded her eerily of the husk creatures they had battled capered amongst the dying. The only drawing that wasn't a scene of death from the Protheans' desperate attempt at warning their surviving people about the Reapers was the most simple of the lot. Shepard had drawn it over and over and over with an obsessiveness that frightened Liara. It was a black figure silhouetted against a white circle, a simplified but somehow equally chilling version of one of the most clear images in the vision. A Reaper rising above a burning planet.

"She lived with these images in her head," Garrus said quietly. "She and Saren both."

Liara nodded.

"What do we do, Liara?" Garrus asked suddenly, turning his head to look at her. "You saw all of this, too. What can we do?" His voice was hoarse and for an instant she saw an echo of grief in his eyes. And knowledge of what was coming.

She had no answer for him. Intellectually, she knew all that Shepard did about the Reapers and the death they would eventually bring, but she didn't know if she could fight as fiercely as her dear friend would. She would have to try. They couldn't just lay back and let the Reapers take them, even if no one else in the galaxy would admit they existed. "Try to prepare," she said finally. Like they could ever be ready.

Garrus stared at one of the Reaper drawings without replying.

"Better to fight and lose than not fight at all." Howard's tired voice came from behind them, startling Liara. She turned to look at him and he shrugged. "It's what she would've wanted us to do."

They stood in silence for a moment. Liara suddenly found it hard to breathe. She turned and strode out the door, unable to stand that wall of drawings and the space around it anymore. She emerged out onto the street, taking a deep breath as she struggled to calm herself. By the time Garrus and Howard emerged, she nearly had herself back under control. Garrus looked at her in concern and she nodded to assure him she was all right. Howard seemed to have collapsed into himself, his wide, bulky frame seemed smaller. Garrus laid a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Howard, I'll walk you back to your hotel."

"Howard. Garrus." Liara reached out a hand to stall them.

Howard didn't look up but Garrus glanced at her over his shoulder.

She felt she had to say something, anything to lighten the heavy, bleak pall that had suddenly settled over all of them. "We'll find some way to stop them. We will."

Garrus looked away. "Goodbye, Liara."

Something about the way he said it made her wonder if she would ever see him again, and there was a coldness there that, while not directed at her, worried her. She watched them disappear down the street, only stirring when her personal comm beeped, indicating she had a message. She frowned as she looked at it, not recognizing the sender. "Hello?"

"Liara T'Soni?" She didn't recognize the voice either.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"I have some important information for you regarding Commander Shepard."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What kind of information?"

"More specifically, we have some information about the commander's body."