a/n: I've always thought that the backgrounds could've been explored more and a mission to Mindoir for Colonists would have been awesome. But alas, I have to be content with a few lines of dialogue and my imagination. A few things: this will be an ensemble fic because I love them all but it will be a Liara romance. And this Shepard is professional!Shep while on duty. Because surely I'm not the only person who wished Shepard would actually act like a military commander? No? Okay then.
Shepard was bright with victory. Her uniform sat easily on her shoulders like it was made for her; she walked with purpose, her boots clicking against the cool metal of Normandy's floor. Her crew were straight-backed in their uniforms, they saluted sharply, and her ship had that warship smell: cool, recycled air and a hint of burnt.
She had forged a peace no one thought possible, she had ended a war that has raged longer than humanity had had spaceflight. The best part though, was that Tali is home. It was almost a family reunion for the crew of the first Normandy. They just needed Wrex to stop being so productive and-(Kaidan).
She threw the thought away hard. She felt good; she wanted to feel good, just for a little while. She was allowed that, right? Just for a minute.
She had killed a Reaper with Rannoch's dust stuck in the back of her throat. They could die. She had been free of fear; she missed that certainty, of the dust and the enemy and the adrenaline running like electricity under her skin.
Here it was decide, decide, decide. It was a relief when she chose right.
"Commander," Specialist Traynor saluted her, her movements sharp. In private they were friends and they played chess (Shepard always lost), but she'd always believed in the walls between on and off-duty.
"Specialist, report," They relaxed into at ease. Shepard was good like this; she'd missed the protocols, the regulations. They were restricting, but they were familiar, comforting guidelines to behaviour.
Traynor rattled off the communications the Normandy had received or sent. They'd passed a turian cruiser who had hailed them before warning of Reaper scouts in-system. This had been passed to Joker and the officer on deck. Admiral Hackett had sent a message to inform her that he had received her official report on the events on Rannoch and approving her request to implement Admiral Zorah as the second-in-command of the engineers and into the Normandy's ground detachment. And-
Traynor said the last communication like she just wanted the words out of her mouth, they blurred into each other. Shepard raised an eyebrow at her, her lips tugged up at the corners. Vega had told her she smiled less than 'Scars' did, and he was a turian. But see? She did smile. Sometimes.
She tilted her head, "Mind repeating that, Traynor?"
"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am," Traynor mumbled quickly. She took a breath, looked like she wanted to wring her hands, "We received a communication from an Alliance colony. From Mindoir."
Shepard's muscles twisted tight, her fist clenched at her side. That name was a million things, all of them conflicting. Traynor watched her like they all do. Like she might crumple when she heard a word. She kept her face calm, echoed the name as a question, "Mindoir?"
"Yes ma'am. They've requested immediate assistance as they evacuate." She paused, "Reaper ground forces have engaged the militia and the Alliance garrison has been withdrawn. We're the only Alliance vessel in the area."
She spun away from the Specialist and stepeds up on to the podium overseeing the spinning, shining mass of sparks that is the galaxy map, "Joker," She called, engaging the intercom. She tapped the appropriate system, zooming into a planet with a familiar blue and red-tinted atmosphere, "Changing course. All ahead. Engage FTL once clear of planet bodies."
"Aye aye Commander," Joker replied, "Changing course. ETA 13 hours."
She stepped down and underneath her feet the metal floor hummed as the Normandy's thrusters kicked hard. She glanced at Traynor, nodded, "God job, Specialist. You keep this up and we'll have to promote you." The specialist smiled at the praise, a little shyly.
"I should go," Shepard said, her fist still clenched at her side and retreated from the CIC. She fell into her rountine. Talk to Adams and Tali about how the ship is running. Get a status report off Joker and EDI. She marvelled sometimes at how easily her improvised command structure had fallen into place. The Normandy had a skeleton crew; many vital positions on a warship were vacant, the crew stripped away as the Alliance stripped the ship itself back. But EDI did many of those jobs now, like those things were like breathing. She wasn't sure how she feels about EDI in that body, about her ship getting up and walking around. It made it harder to remember that she's everywhere.
She ended up in the gun battery, watching Garrus tap his talons against a holo, drawing his mandibles tight in concentration. He said her name. She leant against the wall and echoed his back at him. He glanced at her over his shoulder; and once she'd found turian expression incomprehensible. Now when she spoke to him, she found herself mimicking his body language.
He had that bone-tired look in his eyes; his mandibles were close and tight to his face. She wondered if he's been talking to Victus again.
"What do you need, Shepard?" He said.
"How's the guns?" She asked, trailing a hand along the Thanix cannons battery. The metal was cool under her fingertips.
Garrus flared his mandibles, "We could cut off Joker's beard with this thing."
She laughed, slaped his shoulder, "He might cry."
"We definitely have to do it then." He flared his mandibles again and she grinned in response.
"I would remind you both that the Thanix Cannon is an anti-ship weapon and unsuitable for such a task," Came the cool, synthetic voice of the ship AI, "A razor may be a more suitable tool."
Garrus and Shepard looked at each other, "Uh…we'll take that into consideration then."
Garrus chuckled, in that voice that rattled through her. Then he tilted his head to examine her, the set of his mandibles thoughtful, "You alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she side-stepped past him, glanced at his screens as if she knew what any of that meant.
"You look…tense."
"If you haven't noticed, Vakarian, there's a war going on." She shot back.
He paused, "Does that mean 'Vakarian, drag me down to the bar so we can talk about feelings?' Because that's what I heard."
She narrowed her eyes at him, "You're the worst."
"The best," he retorted.
"We're going to Mindoir." She cut through their banter like a knife.
His mandibles twitched uncomfortably. Well he'd asked. "Your homeplanet."
"Yeah," She spun. For so long it has been her definition, she'd tried so hard to cut its ties on her, prove that she could be someone else than that poor girl with the murdered family. She had thought she had; she'd had a successful military career-she was the Alliance's golden girl, with the support of two war heroes and a career that hurtled ever higher. She was the first human Spectre. And yet, it crept up on her, reminded her that was the colour mama's hair was. Made her chest clench tight around her heart whenever she heads the rasping vocals of a batarian.
Garrus didn't know what to say. He was one of the few that usually knew what to say to her, when the uniform could no longer hide the fact that she was human. But he hadn't told her his mother was dying.
She said, "We'll be hitting the ground in twelve hours. Make sure the ground team is right to go."
"Shepard," He began. She was already out the door.
Shepard didn't sleep. She paced. She picked up datapads that said things like sign this, sign this, this person wants this, and this person wants that and no they won't help otherwise. She put them down, they scattered across her desk.
She stared blankly at her model ship collection. She didn't know what happened to the originals she collected when she'd worked for Cerberus; though she'd found one in the life support area (she didn't go there anymore). She'd put every one of them together with her own hands.
The smell of glue and the feel of plastic under her fingertips reminded her of her mother. She had had warm, strong hands. There had been dirt under her fingernails from the farm and she'd always worn her hair in a bun. Said it was a holdover from her Alliance days. Her mother had never really talked about her years as a soldier. Dad had always said that it made her sad and anyway, war wasn't worth talking over.
She hadn't felt close to her mother in years. She hadn't thought of her in months.
She wondered what she'd think of her. If she'd recognise her in the dress blues she only took off to put on her armour (or when Liara was peeling her out of it) and the scars that crept bright and sharp along her jaw. If she'd still see her little Cammie and take her out back to watch while she fixed fences.
"Commander?" EDI almost sounded contrite. She'd been imitating human behaviour more and more; that body aided in that-after all a ship can't act human. The first time Ash had seen her, she'd gone for her sidearm.
Shepard flopped into her chair, "Yes EDI?"
"Dr T'Soni wishes to speak with you."
Liara. Sweet Liara with her surprisingly biting new sarcasm. She'd be lying if she said Liara didn't wear her discovered world-weariness well, "Alright."
She heard the door hiss open and footsteps, the heavy tread of combat boots. Liara's hands draped over her shoulders, her fingertips digging into the tense muscle there. Shepard smiled, tilting her head back to look at her but it was a half-smile. Tomorrow she was going home.
The thought tired her.
"Do you remember the day we met?" Liara asked, leaning down to kiss her on the top of the head. Shepard had never wanted to know someone else so completely before, wanted to just exist so much. She hated all the time that had been stolen from them, the time that had changed the world so dramatically, while Shepard was still the same.
"Of course I do," Shepard replied dryly, bringing one gloved hand to her mouth to press a kiss there, "It's not every day you meet your bondmate and then run out of an exploding volcano."
"You were the one who blew it up," Liara teased and this time her kiss fell on Shepard's temple.
"Liara," Shepard replied, glancing up at the gently smiling asari, "Everything I touch pretty much explodes. Like that random container I knocked over the other day. It's like I'm in a HV vid."
"You're not allowed anywhere near my terminals," Liara murmured as she gently massaged her shoulders, working out what feels like a year's worth of stress.
"You're funny." Shepard replied but her eyes drift shut.
"Hilarious," Liara whispered against her ear, her lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
"Liara…" She breathed, tilting her head back, a shiver running from where Liara was, so warm and near, to her fingertips.
Liara spun the chair around and there was a familiar light in her eyes, the one that made Shepard's breath catch in her chest, "We have not…been together," She still glanced at the floor when she talked about sex. Shepard loved her for it, "In quite some time." Only Liara could sound so dignified when saying something like that.
Shepard chuckled and Liara's blue eyes narrowed at her, "What?"
"You," Shepard said helplessly, before grabbing the asari's hips and pulling her closer. "I've…I'm sorry for neglecting you. We've been so busy-"
"Oh, I didn't mean to-"
She cut her off by pressing a finger to her lips, "You have every right to be upset if I'm being stupid like that. C'mere. I'll make it up to you."
"Is that so," Liara drew the words out and then she had one hand on Shepard's shoulder, pinning her in place and the other cupping her jaw.
"Yep," Shepard replied when she remembered words.
"Hmmph." Liara leant down and kissed her. Her skin is a different texture to a human's, all tiny, deep blue scales, but her lips are soft and insistant, sucking on her bottom lip. Shepard wrapped her arms around her waist, sighed as Liara parted her lips, deepening the kiss.
When they pulled apart, her heart was thundering in her ears. She curled her hand around Liara's hip and pulled; a little 'oof' breaking from the asari's lips, just before she found herself on Shepard's lap. Who smirked at her.
"Hello."
Liara rolled her eyes before leaning in again. A kiss, "You." Another kiss, deeper, lingering. Her hands slid to the front of Shepard's uniform, began playing with the buttons of the pressed jacket.
"You came up here just to get me into bed, didn't you?" Shepard mock-accused, her head falling back as Liara began to press kisses against her throat, with just a hint of teeth. She bit her lip, tried to remember how to breathe.
"Of course," Liara replied, her blue eyes dancing. And then she was undoing those buttons, pushing the blue material apart. "Am I succeeding?"
"Maybe," Shepard managed before Liara's lips were warm and soft on her.