Terror.

Blinding, brain numbing terror.

Smoke burning her nostrils, the scent of burning flesh making her empty stomach growl obscenely.

Feet, slipping in the mud. Not mud, the charred remains of a person.

Home, need to get home.

Another body, this one unburned. The red dress her mother was wearing this morning, pushed up around her waist. Her chest a ruined mess. A monster, dead beside her, an axe embedded in its back. A third body, his head completely missing, the remains of his neck torn to shreds. This body wearing her father's silly cowboy boots.

The scene shifted, before she heard voices through what she knew was the dark of night. They all merged into one.

'What a mess.'

'They'll pay for this.'

'Another one over here.'

'Hey, somebody killed one of the fucks, axe right in the back. Good for them'

'I see something over there... my god, there's a girl here! Alive! Call the medics!'

'She's covered in blood!'

'Hey, kid, are you ok?'

'Look at her hands!'

'Kid, did they hurt you?'

'Are they graves?'

'Shut up! Hey, can you hear me?'

'My god, Sarge, these are shallow graves! There's bodies in them! Human bodies!'

'I said shut up!'

'Look at her hands, she must have-'

'Shut the hell up soldier! Listen, what's your name?'

Liara awoke with a start. She was drenched in sweat, heart pounding, and fell out of the bed before crawling for the corner of the room to hide. It took her a few seconds to realise where she was. A ship. A human ship, the Normandy. It had been four days since she linked her mind with that of the human SPECTRE, four days of waking up like this. The memories were not hers. She had made the offer to gain the human's trust: as respectfully as most of the crew treated her, as free as she was to roam the ship, she had no illusions that she was anything but a prisoner. It had apparently not worked; she had not seen the SPECTRE since.

She spent most of her time in the tiny lab behind the medical bay. Meals were brought to her by either the kindly doctor with the grey hair, or the human male with what she recognised as an Asari made biotic implant in the back of his neck. They always stayed while she ate and made conversation. Her shyness meant that most of the time they simply talked at her before taking the remains of her meal back to the mess, leaving her with the extranet connected console on the desk, and her thoughts.

She had tried leaving the lab on the first day; past the doctor who smiled encouragingly at her, past the mess where a curious mixture of species were listening to the man who brought her meals tell a story about somebody charging a Thresher Maw on foot. She was about to get into the elevator to explore the engine room when a large, dark haired human female accompanied by two males came down the stairs. She had looked at her, smirked, and made a comment about "the Asari who had 'mind-raped' the Commander". She did not recognise the human phrase, but after a second her translator offered "shiltaan", the terrifying process Ardat-Yakshi used to kill their victims. She fled back to the lab, tears in her eyes, before deciding that it was safer to stay put until the SPECTRE decided what to do with her.

Liara was wondering what to do with her day. She supposed she should find out what humans did to clean themselves and subject herself to it; there were basic facilities in the lab but four days without a thorough wash had left her feeling rather unpleasant. Rather than embarrass herself with such a stupid question to the doctor, she booted up the terminal on the desk. She was wondering what she could enter without the console producing indecent images, when her door let out a soft ring. She hoped it was the male bringing her breakfast. She had, of course, encountered gendered species but none were so aesthetically similar to Asari. A person with a body and facial features so like her own but with the curves, hardness and features in very different places was somehow more alien than the radically different Turians or Salarians could ever be, and the scientist in her loved comparing, contrasting and trying to figure out reasons for the differences. Humans in general fascinated her; the similarity of their physiology had even led to their expressions, their unspoken gestures like smiling, or shaking their head, being nearly identical.

I should have been a xenologist...

She was about to stand to open the door but was surprised when the SPECTRE entered before she had even pushed the chair back. It was common courtesy for the occupant of a room to at least call out an answer to a ping at the door, but the curious mixture of the blunt arrogance of entering uninvited and politeness in announcing her presence was carried with surprising grace by the figure walking towards her. A tray was placed in front of her. The unappetising, unpleasant, cold foodstuff of human military rations was balanced by what she recognised as the juice of a human fruit called "orange", almost identical in taste to her favourite Thessian fruit. She noticed another tray with identical contents still in the SPECTRE's hand, and without a word she sat down beside her and took a sip of the juice.

"Please, eat" The words were not an order, not a suggestion. They just were, and Liara felt compelled to follow them.

They finished their meals in silence. Liara kept looking at the human from the corner of her eye. That a species so visually similar to Asari could evolve thousands of light years from Thessia was still a marvel to her. The differences were there: human skin was smooth, unlike the gentle scaling of Asari. Their skin colour varied fantastically; she had seen humans on the extranet with skin the colour of the darkest night, or white as polished bone. Their hair was even more interesting. As far as she knew the only other sapient race bearing it were the Quarians, so she had never actually seen it on anything other than animals. She was about to examine the SPECTRE's eyes, when she realised they were looking right at her. She quickly looked down into her food, and continued to keep her eyes down until she had finished. The eyes that had surprised her were dark brown, almost black; the same as the hair that was tied into a knot where a crest would normally sweep back. The eyes frightened the Asari. The way she looked at Liara made her feel as though she could be pulled into them, like a black hole. They were terrifying, and beautiful.

When Faith Shepard caught the Asari staring at her, she had to resist smiling at the widening of the bright blue eyes, tightening of the shoulders and how extremely interesting her breakfast had suddenly become. Life in the military meant it had been a long time since she had met anybody who was so obviously and openly shy. Even the young Quarian giving Adams incentive to work for his keep had steel running through her; the hand wringing when conversing did not diminish her quick thinking and decisive action when Fist's agents set on her.

Her thoughts darkened as she remembered why she had come here. After picking up the terrified, exhausted scientist who had passed out nearly as soon as the stasis field was deactivated, Doctor Chakwas had cleaned her up and prescribed at least a day of rest. The Asari had handled the news of her mother's involvement in Saren's actions surprisingly well; reacting with anger at the suggestion, followed by horror when the recording was played to her. She quietly offered that she had not heard from her mother for years, a statement somewhat supported by the state and manner in which they had found her.

When she had learned that the Commander had interacted with a Prothean Beacon, and was unsure of what the vision meant, she offered to help her make sense of it. Shepard agreed, much to the dismay of most of her human crew. The joining itself had been a curiously painless reliving of the beacon, and a separation of her memories of Mindoir the images had dug up and intertwined with. Afterwards, she felt better than she had since Eden Prime but the Asari looked like she was going to be sick. Realising that she had probably seen the things that had haunted her since the age of 16, she sent the Asari to the med bay and spent the next few days in a state far too near to nervousness than she cared to admit. They were old and violent memories, but they were hers. Keeping busy by refusing the Council when they demanded she send Liara in for "interrogation", slaying a Thresher Maw that had wiped out an Alliance squad and rooting out a slaver ring they happened across when following rumours of Geth activity, Shepard woke up that morning with the decision that the issue was no longer to be avoided, and would be best tackled head on.

Liara finally finished eating, and drank the rest of her juice with a small smile that reminded her of better times.

'When we joined minds, did you see the same thing I did?'

Liara froze, and for a second contemplated lying. She decided otherwise.

'Yes. I saw flashes of the Prothean vision, and... what I believe are memories from your childhood. I am so sor-'

'Don't.' The pure, raw, emotion in the human's voice surprised Liara. She had never heard anything but cold professionalism from her before. 'What you saw was something I swore that nobody else would have to go through. That you lived it because of me... I am the one who should be apologising.'

This was not how she expected the meeting to go. She had expected to have to work the truth out of the scientist, maybe even threaten her to keep it to herself. When she saw the telltale signs of disturbed sleep, the open concern in her eyes and the way she had tried to apologise to her, Shepard felt an unwelcome anger rising, mostly directed at herself. She had joined the Alliance so nobody else would wake up with memories of their home burning, and now she had inflicted it on somebody whose only reaction was to apologise?

How could she make this right?

'The Normandy will be docking at the Citadel in five hours. The Council suggested you be handed over to them for interrogation. I refused.'

'You... refused? Why?' The inflection in the human's tone was unusual and Liara suspected what the Council had extended was more than a suggestion.

'Because I don't think you had any knowledge of or part in your mother's actions. The Council wasn't impressed by my decision, but one of the advantages of being a SPECTRE is that there is no chain of command: my decision is final.'

'You do not think I am guilty?'

'No.' There was no explanation, no hesitation, no room for doubt in the statement.

'Then, what is my fate?'

'If you wish, you can leave the Normandy on the Citadel. I will inform C-Sec that you are to be allowed passage without official harassment on any journey you should wish to take from there, and I will continue my mission.'

The notion filled Liara with something akin to worry.

'SPECTRE, I do not have anywhere to go.' This was not strictly true; the university still paid what bills she had and she owned a small property near the main campus... but she could not simply go back to that life after being attacked on Therum, after learning what her mother had done.

Shepard heard the subtext. She understood.

'I had another idea, if you want to hear it.' A small nod, her crest staying rigid where a human's hair may have bobbed with the motion. 'Your area of expertise has an obvious relevance to my mission. You no doubt have a personal stake in the outcome, given your mother's involvement. If you wish, you can remain onboard indefinitely.'

'I would not wish to be a burden, SPECTRE.'

'Would you be a burden?'

'I...' A look came into her eyes. A look any warrior would recognise. 'No. As you said, I am in a position to provide you with unique information and perspective on your mission. Also...'

Shepard certainly recognised the look, and leant forward attentively. Perhaps she was mistaken about the gentle, unassuming scientist.

'I am not unskilled with combat biotics and have trained with my mother's Commando unit for some time. If you are willing, I can accompany your ground team if you need my support.'

That was all she needed. Shepard stood up, and extended her hand. This was one gesture that did not carry across their species, but Liara quickly recognised what she wanted. She rose and took the human's hand. It was very warm; Asari were warm blooded but much of their heat was vented through the crest and tendrils on their head rather than directly through the skin. The sensation was certainly not unpleasant.

'Welcome aboard, Doctor T'Soni.'

'Thank you, SPECTRE Shepard.'

For the first time in longer than she cared to admit, Shepard smiled. 'Please, don't call me that. It's just Shepard for non-Alliance crew, or Commander if you insist on titles. I don't plan on staying on the Citadel for long but if you want to stretch your legs you can come with me. Alenko will be joining us. We have some time before we arrive, you can take a shower and get some fresh clothes from Doctor Chakwas. Most of our female uniforms should fit you. You can also head down to the hold afterwards. I'll tell Williams to expect you in the armoury; she can fit you with some combat gear.'

Shepard turned around and started walking towards the door.

'SPE- Shepard?'

She stopped before reaching the door, turned around and looked at Liara. Deep brown eyes met brilliant blue, and Liara forced herself not to look away.

'Yes?'

'What I saw... I am sorry. I did not intend to intrude on such a personal memory. You have my word that none of your crew, nor anybody else should I live my full lifespan, will hear of it.'

Shepard turned back towards the door, and her response was far more gentle than expected.

'Thank you, Liara.'

She left the room without looking back.

Liara tried to relax. The meeting with the Commander had set her on edge in more ways than one. Not only had her fight or flight response tightened every muscle in her body at the presence of such an obvious predator, she was still reeling from the weightlessness she felt looking into the human's eyes. She would not admit to herself what the uncomfortable tingling at the back of her head meant.

She sat down again, and typed the word 'shower' into the extranet search bar.