Mass Effect: The Fallen Goddesses
By Grey Nayr
Dedicated to Bex and Julie. Two dear friends who are celebrating their birthdays the week of this fic's creation. They're huge Liara fans. So this one is for you two.
The Asari were once the most powerful and influential race in the galaxy. Beautiful, azure-skinned goddesses who inspired the awe of those around them with their peaceful diplomacy and advanced technologies; and on a baser level, with their angelic bodies and voices like a siren's song. They were first race of the cycle to achieve spaceflight. They discovered the Citadel, the ancient space station initially believed to have come from the last great empire, that of the Protheans. They formed the Citadel Council by treaty with the Salarians who followed closely behind. It was they, they believed, who ushered every peaceful moment for nearly five thousand years and graced the lesser races with their affection.
And now they were nothing. Fallen from grace, cast down from their perch. They had sunk so low in the wake of the Reaper War for many reasons. Failing to come to the aid of the other races until their own worlds were threatened while Commander Shepard rallied everyone, forming alliances nobody believed possible. But the worst crime of all is one of their own making. Withholding Prothean technology from the galactic community. By their own decree, it was the most severe crime a group or species could commit, and they had been hiding a wealth of information ever since their race reached for the stars and attained them. They had slowly been extracting data from it in order to keep themselves a step ahead of their lessers, ensuring the continuity of their peaceful dominance.
Many members of the other races, and even many of their own race blamed the Asari for the devastation of the Reaper War. It had come out during Council sanctions that the beacon contained more than just technology and science. It contained warnings about the Reapers themselves, and the knowledge pertaining to the one device that could stop them. And the Asari had withheld it! For thousands of years! Millenia that they could have prepared, and been ready! If we were, the galaxy might not be in shambles now, struggling to repair!
These were words said by many as the Asari were ostracized by the very galactic community they once led through wisdom and grace, a mask for their duplicity. In times of hardship it was easy to place blame for your woes and discomforts, and the knowledge of the beacon made the once-greatest race of the age an easy target to attack. And they fell victim to a level of prejudice not seen since the wake of the Krogan Rebellions. It was too much like the Rebellions, they thought. A race held in high opinion, fallen to the bottom through their own transgression. Carefully ignoring the fact that it was they and not the warlike Krogan who began that war by trying to expel the humped-warriors from a colony that they believed was too close to their sacred homeworld of Thessia.
A year had passed since the end of the Reaper war, when the anarchy that spread across the entire galaxy ended in a single moment, a massive defining burst of electromagnetic energy surged through the Mass Relays and ended the menace in one fell swoop, all by the actions of Commander Shepard. The other races were slowly but surely recovering through mutual cooperation. As the human Admiral Hackett had said in his victory speech, 'If we can put aside our difference to defeat an enemy such as the Reapers, imagine what we can do now that they are defeated'. And true to those words, they were making steady progress. The entire Primary Relay network was operational, and reconstruction had already begun on the secondary relays. Worlds were being rebuilt and supplies shared as needed. It was not perfect, but it was something. Something the Asari didn't have.
Many of the other races refused to aid them, an ironic punishment for their late entry into the war. Asari colonies, and the homeworld of Thessia sat in ruins and rubble, a mired dystopia as their once-great race stubbornly clung to life. Ways of life were destroyed as trade was ceased. Families were torn apart as alien bondmates divorced their asari wives and abandoned their daughters, wanting no more to do with their kind. The Asari even lost their seat on the very Council they had formed. Replaced by the Volus, who generously funded reconstruction efforts and resumed galactic commerce through brilliant and unorthodox methods.
The 'Fallen Goddesses' many now referred to them as.
And at an undisclosed location somewhere in the Athena Nebula, Liara T'Soni walked silently through her base. The lights were dimmed, reminiscent of the SSV Normandy SR-2 that she once called her home. She made her way purposefully to her Broker Terminal, a massive supercomputer processing unquantifiable amounts of data, displayed through dozens of monitors that moved in synchronization to her movements, ensuring that she never missed a bit of information.
She sauntered gracefully to the console, dancing her fingers across a haptic keyboard, entering her wishes and ordering the impressive construct to obey her will. As the data feeds changed, she sat comfortably in a large office chair and took a sip of tea from a cup sitting atop an adjacent table.
"Glyph, copy today's footage to archive," she enjoined her VI assistant with another pleasant sip.
"Right away, Doctor," Glyph answered in a mellow synthesized tone. It's holographic shell changed to three colors - blue, green, and red - in sequence as its processors worked and the data was cataloged and stored.
As a particularly curious sight appeared on one of the monitors, Liara, with a vocal command, "12th frame, expand to 100%.", enhanced it to display on all of the screens. A single large image constructed by numerous displays.
An asari was on the screen. She was standing atop a makeshift dais, preaching to a crowd of hundreds, as her video was broadcast to millions more across Thessia. She declared, raising her fists, "We are being unjustly persecuted for the crimes of a few. I say we take back our place in galactic politics. Say no to Council sanctions!"
As the woman rambled on, a figure appeared behind Liara, carrying a kettle of freshly brewed tea. The asari refilled the Shadow Broker's now empty cup as steam climbed through the air.
"Charismatic," the tea-bearer sneered, looking at the video feed.
"Yes," Liara snorted derisively. "Treeya," she said to address her assistant, "Do you know who this woman is?" Liara already knew the answer, but wished to test her protege. Treeya was trained as an anthropologist, and lacked her mentor's remarkable skill for recollection. She found it wise to keep her sharp.
"Matriarch Amela L'Nina," Treeya answered quickly. "Formerly the head of Armali's research institute."
"And one of the projects under her authority was the Temple of Athame," Liara added, cringing away from her pupil.
"The prothean beacon?" Treeya's brow rose slightly and her eyes widened.
"Indeed. She claims innocence, yet commanded the very endeavor that caused our species to fall. Amela will only cause more harm than good for our race if she is allowed to continue." Liara's words felt hollow and flat, even to her. It had been many months since she had ceased most of her efforts to help her people recover. They refused to help themselves, and they had committed the one sin that she could not forgive. They dared to blame Shepard for their pitiful state. Just as the other races easily blamed them for the Reapers, they easily blamed the Commander for the damning revelations that destroyed their standing in galactic politics.
Shepard had saved them all. Were it not for the Commander's trials and tribulations, none of them would be alive at this moment. They ignored that. They only cared about petty comforts and their lost status. Liara retched at it. She had always held her race on a pedestal, but from the moment she found the Temple of Athame and suffered Javik's cruel and blunt truths, it had been one painful reality after another. She could no longer look through rose-colored glasses, as humans would say.
"You have to admit, she has a point," Treeya noted.
"The Council shouldn't punish us all for what she did."
Liara's cringe intensified and her tone became harsh. "There was a time when I would agree with you. But I've learned through experience that sometimes a lesson can only be effective if the entire classroom is taught."
"And if we're counted in that class?" was Treeya's retort.
"We aren't. We side with the teachers."
The fanatical Matriarch's speech continued over the monitors. "We must rise up! We are the pinnacle of the galaxy, blessed with greatness. Do not believe the lies other races tell to subjugate us. The Reapers were the devils in the shadows, and the one who cast them down, the Commander, is a false shepherd, a product of Cerberus, they who coveted our place at the pinnacle and designed to steal it from us! It is obvious! The unbeatable Commander was somehow defeated at the Temple of Athame, when Cerberus made off with key to salvation. And the false shepherd only recovered it after the Illusive Man, the master within the darkness, had taken what he wanted from it."
Treeya groaned, annoyed by the woman's shrill tone. "I don't see how any of them could believe this dribble."
"You did, once," Liara snapped back. "Have you forgotten? You thought I had ruined my career and my standing by believing in Shepard."
That stung, if only because it was true. But Treeya stood resolute. "That was before I saw the truth at Fehl Prime. You were right all along, and I'm with you, no matter what."
"Thank you," Liara's cringe melted into a sad frown. She was eager to change to a lighter subject. "Speaking of that, how long has it been since you spoke to Lieutenant Vega?"
"We traded messages just last week," she smiled, thinking fondly of her friend. "What about you and Shepard, if I may ask?"
"I... we haven't spoken... in several months," Liara admitted shamefully. It was not that she did not wish to. She felt as if she couldn't face her friend as she is now; a bitter and disillusioned shadow of her former self. And at the same time, she was afraid. Afraid that Shepard's motivating words would return her to her old ways and resume her down a path she now believed would only lead to disappointment. She would always try to help her people in small gestures, but did not feel she should devote her heart and soul to it the way she did before. The way that made her what she now was, broken.
"I see. And what about her?" Treeya alluded to Amela, eager to know what their move would be.
"Volus now sit in our seat upon the Council. The Volus!" Amela retched hatefully over the monitors. "A second class race of suit-breathers have dared to take our place, by bowing at the feet of humanity! At the feet of the false shepherd! At the feet of traitorous bitches like Liara T'Soni. Rise up and take back our glory!"
"The report from Matriarch Aethyta said that she's gaining a lot of supporters," Treeya commented, a fact that Liara undoubtedly knew already.
"What about Agent Feron?" she inquired.
"He hasn't sent his daily update yet," Treeya answered.
"Send him a message, tell him to meet us at the trade center in Armali," Liara ordered passively.
"Us?" Treeya jumped in surprise, quickly recovering. "You mean you're going too?"
"Yes," was Liara's answer.
It was less than a Citadel-time hour, 100 minutes comprised of 100 seconds that were half the length of the human standard, when they arrived in Armali via a shuttle on autopilot. The hatch opened, revealing a crumbled mess that was once a glorious metropolis. The capital of Asari society, now in ruins. They made sure to lock down the shuttle before leaving. A preventative measure in case an ambitious street urchin thought she could hijack the vessel to sell for a handful of credit chips.
Making their way through the city en route to what used to be the trade center, Treeya glanced about the scene. She saw her people in squalor, begging for anything those more fortunate would give. It was like Omega, but worse. Or at least worse than how Omega used to be. The Citadel's so called 'dark counterpart' had become even uglier than it used to be before the war. The Cerberus occupation had been long and brutal as they had turned the station into a concentration camp and used the alien residents for test subjects. A perverted action that inspired deep hatred for humans and culminated in a grisly genocide of their kind from the dystopic crime-ruled community.
Treeya also noticed many gestures of intimate affection between asari as they moved purposefully. Her initial reaction was a cringe, the result of a lifetime of indoctrinations against pureblood unions. But in the back of her mind, it made sense. Nearly all inter species marriages had failed. It was only natural their people would take comfort in each other as they did in their pre-spaceflight days. Everyone needed and deserved love. Where they found it should not be an issue.
They spotted Feron lounging beside a wall, eating on a tube of meat flavored nutrient paste to pass the time until they arrived. He had been ordered by Liara to stay on Thessia and be one of her many eyes and ears.
"Liara," Feron smiled wryly as he saw them approach. "It's good too see you out and about."
"We're not here to make small talk, Feron. We have a job to do," she scoffed.
"Ouch," he sighed. "Whatever."
"So you're Agent Feron?" Treeya looked him over as they walked behind their leader.
Feron grinned. "The one and only," he laughed. "And you are?"
"Agent Nuwani," she smiled back at him. "First time we've ever spoken outside of comms," she pointed out.
"Oh, I see. Nice to meet you in person, Treeya."
"You two can plan your honeymoon some other time," Liara snapped.
"What's gotten into her?" Feron whispered to Treeya.
"Stress, I believe," she replied somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.
"Look at this place," Feron observed. "A year now and they've barely begun to rebuild."
"No time to," Treeya scoffed with derision. "They're too busy listening to Amela's rebellious ranting."
"This is why I gave up," Liara joined in as she continued her stride. "I know, nobody liked how the Reaper war ended. We had one day of celebration, then reality set in and so many were dissatisfied."
It was a sad truth. The end of the war was meant to be a time of joy and hope for the future. But self-interest ruled the early days. People were demused and acted angrily over their shortages of food and medicine, each expecting everything they wanted. But the speech given by Admiral Hackett acted as a pacification to many as it slowly spread from system to system, inspiring them to come together and rebuild, aspiring to something greater. A call to action that the Asari, regrettably, refused to hear.
"What did they think?" Feron groaned with scorn. "That the Crucible would magically repair all the damage along with killing the Reapers?"
"They probably were not expecting the Mass Relays to be destroyed," Treeya commented.
"That was only part of the problem," Feron noted. "It's only been a year and all of the main ones are working. These people aren't doing anything for themselves except festering. They're disconnected."
"What do you mean, disconnected?" Treeya asked curiously.
Feron explained, "It's a term my people have. Without over complicating it, it's a name for those who've lost their way. The Asari lost faith in their deity, Athame. Every reason they had to live up to expectation and aspire to something greater is gone. Now they have nothing."
"Their 'deity' was fake," Liara grunted through her teeth. "Athame was a lie, a face of the protheans as they meddled in our history. How would you feel of Amonkira or Arashu were a lie?" she accused.
"I'm as disconnected as a drell can get, Liara," Feron pointed out. "I stopped caring if they were real a long time ago."
"Then why?" Liara demanded.
"Because even if I don't follow religion, I understand the value of it. People need something to believe in."
"Very few still believed in the Athame Doctrine at the time when the truth came out," Treeya observed. "I don't see why it should affect them."
"Because old beliefs still have value. Even if few still followed the doctrine, it played a part in molding their society, it gave them reason to begin. And the revelation made their entire past a lie. These people have nothing left, which makes them easy prey for Amela. She's a fanatical cultist who preys on weak and hopeless souls. And they're not in short supply here."
Feron's words struck a cord inside of Liara's heart. She said the same thing to Shepard at the temple. 'This is thousands of years of history we are talking about.' The thought made her ache. And she quickly turned that pain into anger. "Then they should believe in themselves, if nothing else. Strive to do better because it's good for them and for their loved ones. Not submit to idols."
"That is true. But convincing people of that isn't going to be easy," Treeya sighed.
"Because they can't be convinced."
"We're here," Feron said, breaking the conversation.
Amela's 'temple' was a former living complex which now housed her most loyal of followers. Armed guards were posted outside of the doors and they inspected the trio carefully, sure to confiscate any weapons they were carrying. Treeya was unarmed. Liara carried her Acolyte Pistol and a Kassa Fabrication's M-12 Locust submachine gun. Both given to her by Shepard in the past, and both very effective weapons. On Feron's person was an M-5 Phalanx Heavy Pistol and an M-97 Viper sniper rifle, along with a serrated knife he kept hidden in his sleeve. All of which they relinquished without hesitation. They needed inside and they had no intentions of starting a confrontation. At least not now.
Within the temple, Amela was giving another of her xenophobic sermons. "We must be the champions of our own destiny!" she bellowed. "Take up your arms, my sisters, and rise against alien tyranny! Take back the Asari's rightful place as the dominant species of the galaxy."
"You certainly don't lack for theatrical appeal, Amela," Liara shouted to interrupt the speech. Like Amela, she needed no introduction. Everyone knew who she was.
A victorious grin painted across the cultist's face as she declared, "And the servant of the false shepherd appears. Has the agent of the Illusive Man sent you to slay me? Is the Commander still too weak and bedridden to silence me personally?"
"The Illusive Man is dead," Liara stated loudly enough for all to hear. "Shepard killed him."
"So you say," Amela dismissed with a snort. "But do you have a body to prove it? If you do, how will we know it is truly him? The Illusive Man's face is unknown to us!"
"Would you even listen to yourself?" Liara pleaded angrily. "Our people don't have the strength to go to war. It's been a year since it ended and we've done nothing to rebuild. It would be suicide."
"Better to die proudly than to live in submission!" Amela roared, and her audience followed with cheer.
"Submission to what? Our people committed a crime. Our race broke the very law that they passed!" Liara snarled, airing out more than facts, but her own bitter feelings as well.
"And so we should all be made to suffer for the actions of a few?" Amela laughed, playing to her audience more than arguing with Liara.
"As I understand it, they we're your actions, Matriarch Amela, chief of research at the Temple of Athame," Liara accused pointedly with a grin.
"Lies and slander!" Amela bellowed angrily as murmurs spread through her audience. "You are barely old enough to carry a gun or dance in a club. I have lived your lifetime tenfold!"
"No, truth and facts," Liara stated dryly before following with a smug smirk, "I'm a very good information broker, I'll have you know. I have dozens of correspondence reports linking you to the beacon."
The murmurs of discontent only increased. Amela's fist clenched as her anger built and dark energy formed around her. She thought desperately for a counter-argument. An ace in the hole to win the debate that had formed. "Is that so? How would such things exist when the false shepherd's crucible wiped every piece of functioning technology from the face of the galaxy?"
"Restoration and data recovery. It's a very basic practice, you should know," Liara returned to her dry tone. "We could rebuild ourselves and become great again."
"You mean fabrication!" Amela snapped as dark energy rippled through the air. Once she realized, she stayed herself. "No! No... I will not dignify you by giving into temptation."
Liara grinned again. "Afraid of being cast down from the pedestal you've perched yourself atop?" she taunted.
"Begone from my sanctuary, heathens! Or I shall have you cast out!" Amela commanded.
"Very well," Liara said, knowing she made her point. Seeds of doubt had been sown, and on a feed to millions of Asari throughout the nebula, no less. The comm buoys out of the cluster had yet to be restored, so there was little to no chance of the other races learning about her plans and making a pre-emptive strike that would devastate her people any further. "We're leaving," she said.
"We are?" Treeya asked.
"Just play along," Feron rasped quietly into her ear.
The trio left, reclaiming their arms at the door and retreating to a safehouse Liara kept in the city. It was the home of her father, Matriarch Aethyta. A home that used to be shared with Benezia before their separation. Like many other locations, the house was ravaged by the war, but Aethyta and Liara were of the few who still had the credits to afford repairs.
With a whoosh, the doors slid open, revealing a luxury penthouse decorated in a contemporary style.
Treeya and Feron wasted no time finding the refrigerator and grabbing drinks, non-alcoholic, and finding a comfortable place to sit and rest their tired legs.
"What will we do now?" Treeya asked as she took a deep drink.
Feron speculated, "I presume that because the direct approach didn't work, we go back to what we do best. Working from the shadows."
"Do you have a plan, Dr. T'Soni?" Treeya questioned Liara.
The Shadow Broker stayed silent for but a moment before coming out with an answer. "There's a person named Julbry B'Exmy living here in Armali. Find her and bring her to me."
"Where do we look?"
"I know where to find her," Feron stated. She was a person of interest Liara had him monitoring. "Come on."
The pair left, leaving Liara alone with her father who handed her something stronger than soda to drink. "How you been, kid?" Aethyta asked.
"Tired," she sighed in exasperation.
"Of what?"
"Everything," she confided. "Being the Shadow Broker is a daunting and never ending job. Pair that with my failed efforts to help our people and I feel like I am the end of my rope."
"When was the last time you saw Shepard?"
"Oh not you too, Dad."
"Liara, honey," Aethyta attempted being comforting for a split second before returning to her usual tough love demeanor. "Just take your damn stress out on that bitch Amela and quit worrying about everything. Take it from a woman who's been around for a thousand years. We've had some rough spots and we've always come back from them. It's one credit I can give our species. We're stubborn."
"Is it that easy?" Liara smirked at the paternal scolding she had just received.
"Beats spending every moment wallowing in self-pity. Now shape up before I turn you over my knee and make your blue ass purple."
Liara's brows rose in surprise and she fidgeted, holding back a chuckle. The funniest part wasn't the threat, but that her father would actually do it.
On their way to the location of the mysterious Julbry B'Exmy, Feron and Treeya moved through the streets of Armali, dodging rubble that was strewn about the terrain and ignoring the dead Reapers that could be seen in the distance.
"I'm worried about her," Treeya sighed.
"How did you get involved with Liara?" Feron asked, feeling able to talk freely away from his shadowy boss.
"Dr. T'Soni was my mentor," Treeya smiled. "Our fields aren't exactly the same, but we were dedicated to the same cause. Discovering the truth of the protheans' disappearance."
"And when she became the Shadow Broker?" Feron asked as he climbed over a large pile of rubble that blocked the street, offering a hand to Treeya and helping her up.
"I think by then, we were both ready to move on. The question had been answered," she smiled as she used her biotics to lift them both over the pile, letting the gentlemanly Drell know politely that his help was not needed, even if it was appreciated.
Feron laughed, slightly embarrassed. Treeya rarely used her biotics, being one of the few Asari who chose not to develop her abilities to a combative level. His next response was, "That's a vague answer. What happened? I don't mean to pry where I'm not welcome, but at the same time, I'm curious."
"Have you ever heard of Fehl Prime?" she asked.
"Collectors attacked. Were you there?"
"I lived there for more than two years. Then one day, I end up being deployed with Lieutenant James Vega's squad and everything goes wrong," she shakes her head, still barely believing the day actually happened. "The Collectors invaded, subdued the colonists and took them. We tried to fight back, but we failed to save them because of a mistake I made."
"That you made?" Feron's eyes narrowed.
"The Alliance had installed an anti-aircraft cannon to repel invaders. I convinced James to fire the gun at 50% power to reduce the chances of civilian casualties. But the shot didn't even scratch it, and since that moment, we lost one person after another, until James chose to sacrifice everyone for the intel I acquired from a Cerberus operative named Messner," she stated, sounding more like she was making a confession, rather than just relaying information.
"I heard about that. I don't know the specifics, but it was supposed to be pretty damning stuff for the Collectors," Feron nodded as they continued down the rode, having slide through a narrow opening.
"Indeed," she replied. "The location of their base and how to get there. The construction of the Human Proto-Reaper. As well as proof that the Collectors were once Protheans who had been converted by the Reapers."
"The Alliance had proof of the Reapers' existence before the arrival?" Feron asked in surprise, quickly recovering. "Why didn't they show it to the Council?"
"They tried," Treeya sighed in exasperation. "The Council didn't believe that the data was real. A 'Cerberus fabrication meant to distract us from their operations' they called it. But the Alliance took it seriously, James told me. They couldn't tell Shepard about it because of his Cerberus associations, and he took it very hard when the Commander destroyed the Collectors without needing it. But the Alliance took the data seriously enough to begin preparing in secret. Though it was not enough."
"I know. I saw the footage. Admiral Hackett had several fleets waiting for the Reapers. What's that human saying? He... had all of his bases covered? But it wasn't enough. They ripped right through the line like it was wet paper," Feron grunted as he carefully stepped over broken glass, careful to avoid hurting his feet.
"But enough about me," Treeya smiled, "what is your history?"
Feron took a deep breath. It had been a long time since he had drudged up such things. "Not much to tell, I'm afraid. I was born on Khaje. I didn't want to live under the compact so I left home at a young age. I stowed away on a freighter and wound up on Omega. A decade of unpleasant memories later and I find myself with a talent for information. Getting it, and selling it. I wound up being contacted by the Shadow Broker - the old one - through an agent named Barla Von, offering me a job as an agent. Spent a few years working for him before I got hired by the Illusive Man to aid Liara in recovering Shepard's body."
"And then you got captured by Tazzik, I know that part," Treeya and Feron both knew small pieces of each others history, but had never met to share the full stories.
"I spent two years being tortured. Then Liara and Shepard came and rescued me..." he trailed off as he slipped into a fit of solipsism. "I'm struggling with Tazzik... The Salarian, excessively large and strong... unnatural... I scream... 'Liara go! Go now, save Shepard!'... I watch her take the coffin into the shuttle and escape... I'm taken to Hagalaz... Strapped into a machine... Interrogated... The shock... the pain... Two years... two whole years... And there they are... They come to me, promising rescue... The power goes out for a second... I escape... I go to his office, with murderous intent... I see Liara... the new Shadow Broker... I fall in line... Grateful... Loyal..." He snapped out of it, gasping for breath.
"That must have been so terrible," Treeya looked at him with pure sympathy.
"Solipsism has it's advantages," he uttered a shallow laugh. "I could slip back into pleasurable memories to escape the pain sometimes."
"If I might ask, there's another thing I'm curious about," Treeya mentioned.
"I'm an open book!" Feron laughed.
"Why thank you," she giggled lightly. "Earlier, you mentioned being disconnected. Why is that?"
"Simple, I was raised to believe in the Drell pantheon by my parents. I, like many of my generation, chose to not follow it. Hard to believe in something that you can't see and doesn't answer back when you try to talk to it."
"The way you defended religion to Dr. T'Soni, you must have believed at one point," she said pointedly.
"Perceptive. I used to say my prayers every night before I went to bed. But when I ended up on Omega, I was forced to do things that disconnected me in order to survive. Now I'm beyond salvation," he said matter-of-factly.
"I would disagree with that."
"And what makes you so sure? Would you like to know how many pockets I've picked? The lifestyle: parties, sex, drugs? Or what about the people I've had to betray and kill in my line of work? How could such behavior be forgiven when I'm not sorry for any of it?"
"Are you really not remorseful?" she asked, sensing doubt in his raspy tone.
" ...Maybe I do wish I'd done some things differently. I had a moment where I felt like doing something, anything to redeem myself. Dying to save the life of another will wash all sin from a man. Only I didn't die, I ended up a prisoner. If that's not a sign that the gods don't want me saved, I don't know what is."
"But you survived, you were rescued, and you have a new life now. Perhaps surviving wasn't such a punishment," she suggested.
"Why do you care about my beliefs?" he asked, agitated. "You're not even a Drell. What do you care about my gods?"
Treeya snorted. "I don't. But you say that people need something to believe in. I believe that you do believe, and that you feel ashamed of yourself. It doesn't matter if it's to an invisible higher being or to another person. It's never too late to ask for forgiveness."
"What makes you so sure?"
"When I saw James on his knees, after Shepard destroyed the Collectors. I found him in a human church, sobbing like an infant, begging anyone who would listen to forgive him. I'd never seen a man so devastated. But he came back from it, and look at him now, stronger than ever before."
"And you think I'm like him?" Feron asked.
"Detached, hiding real feelings behind anger or humor," she trailed off characteristics. "Even James had that period before he finally forgave himself."
"We're here now," Feron stated to avoid answering. Though this would remain on his mind for some time.
"So we are," she said as they entered the building, being met by two armed guards. "Hello? Is there a Julbry B'Exmy here?" she spoke to them.
"There's nobody here by that name. Leave," one guard spat.
"Let me handle this," Feron whispered to her. "Hey lovely ladies," he laughed.
"Drell," another of the guards snorted derisively.
"We're looking for Julbry because... I'm her bondmate," he lied.
"Perhaps I should throw you out then," the guard answered. "So many aliens abandoned their asari bondmates after our government's crimes were revealed. I suppose you did the same?"
"...Yes. But I realize now that I made a huge mistake," he choked, almost tearing up. Treeya watched in amazement as he sold his con with finesse. "I want nothing more than to find Julbry and throw myself at her mercy. She could forgive me, or eliminate me if she hates me so."
"And who is this woman?"
"I... I'm an information broker he paid to find Julbry," Treeya said, a half lie.
"Fine, she's upstairs," the guard relented. "But if you give her any trouble, you're dead."
"Thank you! May the gods bless you!" Feron cried with fake happiness.
"That was pretty good," Treeya said quietly with a smirk as she tapped Feron's arm with her elbow."
"I've been in this business a long time," he laughed.
The pair knocked on the door, and when nobody answered, they entered. The broken door had to be pulled apart as they entered the living space. It was dingy and miserable, befitting anyone living on Thessia after the war. Before Feron could take another step, he found a pistol aimed for his head. "Who is there?" Julbry asked angrily.
"My name is Feron. I'm an agent for the Shadow Broker," he answered calmly, laying his Phalanx on the ground.
"What does the Broker want with me, I wonder?"
"We're trying to take down Amela L'Nina," Treeya answered, casting a barrier between the gun and her Drell companion.
"Now you have my attention. What do you need?" Julbry smirked.
"You used to work and live in the building she's set up as her 'temple'. We need a way in past security. And you have a grudge against her," Feron stated knowingly. When Amela had seized the building, many of its tenants were forced out. None of whom had been allowed to claim their personal effects before leaving. And Julbry had lost something precious, as the Broker knew everything about everyone.
"The Broker lives up to his reputation. How can I help?"
"Come with us. We'll plan our attack," Feron said.
Julbry kept her gun trained on Feron, switching to disruptor rounds to pierce the barrier if she needed. "I'm not going anywhere with you without some form of insurance. You could very well be working for Amela."
"I'm a Drell, if you hadn't noticed," Feron uttered in a sarcastic tone. "Why would I support her 'Asari dominance over the other races' garbage?"
Treeya stroked a series of holographic keys on her omni-tool and stated, "On the Broker's order, I've forwarded two million credits into your chit. Check it and verify."
Julbry slowly lowered her gun and inserted her chit into a small slot on her omni-tool's wristband. The amount checked out. "By the Goddess... Lead the way," she laughed.
The pair escorted Julbry out past the guards and back to Matriarch Aethyta's safehouse. The trip was largely silent except for Julbry's idle conversations with the two, ranging in topics from literature to an ironic awe for the Asari who was a part of Commander Shepard's crew. A relief to both of them to see an Asari who did not view the Commander or Liara with scorn.
"Nice place," Julbry said as she entered.
"Yes. This safehouse used to be my parents' home," Liara smiled, drinking on a glass of tea that had alcohol added on Aethyta's insistence. Not enough to intoxicate, but enough to be enjoyed.
"Liara T'Soni!" Julbry squealed. "I thought you two worked for the Shadow Broker!"
"I am the Shadow Broker," Liara stated as a matter of fact.
"Prove it," Julbry asked, half skeptical, half eager to see the alleged Broker in action.
Liara smiled and stated off the top of her head, "Your name is Julbry B'Exmy. You're 218 years old. You were born in Armali National Hospital. Your father is a Quarian who never returned to the fleet from his pilgrimage, which is quite rare. Your favorite vid is Blasto: The Jellyfish Stings. Your sexual tastes are for other Asari. Your favorite position is..."
"Okay! I believe you!" Julbry stopped her with a giddy laugh. "Goddess... Liara T'Soni... the Shadow Broker..."
"Yes. It's a shock to anyone who finds out," she sighed as she talked quickly. "But if we can, let's get down to business. We need inside of that building."
"All right," Julbry said as she brought up the building's layout on her omni-tool. "Well, Amela keeps guards posted at all entrances. But there's a sewer that runs down below it," she said as the path lit up red. "There's a maintenance tunnel and a shaft that leads up into the building. That section of the building was sealed off by rubble in the war and it's too thick to clear without heavy equipment. But there are ventilation shafts that feed all over the building," she showed through yellow highlights.
"We can get in, get Amela, and get out before we're noticed," Feron observed, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"We'll wait until nightfall and infiltrate," Liara decided. "Thank you, Julbry. There'll be another three million credits waiting for you upon our success. It should be more than enough to get you off of Thessia and comfortable elsewhere for quite while."
"Yes, thank you," Julbry bounced. "And good luck," she wished them well before leaving, skipping jovially all the way home.
It was a wait of several hours before night fell. And during the time, they all took time to rest and prepare. Liara walked through the house, without purpose, and stopping outside of Feron's room when she heard him talking.
"Kalahira, mistress of the deeps, I ask you for my salvation," he prayed.
"Feron?" Liara said under her breath, eavesdropping.
"You whose tides guide the spirits down the righteous path," he continued.
"What is he doing?" she wondered.
"Reunite my body and my soul. Cease the disconnection. So that I, my true and only self might know resurrection."
Liara was silent after realizing what she had intruded on.
"I ask for this repentance not out of fear, but of contrition. Let my absolution endure throughout my life's missions."
"Feron," Liara said sadly as she stepped inside.
"Liara!" he jumped. "Did you..."
"I did," she admitted. "That prayer was beautiful, and strong."
"Yes. I don't remember any of the prayers my mother taught me, so I improvised," he laughed lightly, slightly embarrassed. "Spoke from the heart. You might not believe in anything but what's in front of you, and I accept that, but I need to believe in this."
"I wasn't going to judge you," she smiled warmly. "And if there is any truth to your beliefs, I'm sure your words brought a smile to the face of your goddess."
"Thank you," he smiled back at her. "I think this is the first time I've seen you so relaxed in the last year."
"Really?"
"You've been cold and distant. Not that you haven't had reasons, it's just... I like seeing the old you. And I'm sure everyone else would too."
"I'll... take that into consideration."
As night fell, the trio made their way back to Amela's temple, leaving Aethyta behind. Feron joked that they should have brought her along, but Liara insisted that she stay behind to alert others to prepare for attack should they fail.
"Eww, this place stinks," Treeya pinched her nose as they waded through festering excretions and corpses that had been disposed of after the war ended.
"At least you won't have a perfect recollection of the... aroma... for the rest of your life," Feron laughed pointedly.
"Well then, maybe you'll need some good memories to distract from them," Treeya suggested with a smile.
"Are you volunteering?" he asked.
"Maybe," she hummed playfully.
"Sounds interesting," he grinned at her.
"We're here," Liara said. They got out of the befouled water as quickly as they could and climbed up through the maintenance shaft into the building, coming out at the location described to them.
"Just like Julbry said," Feron noted as he opened the shaft and they all crawled through. "Stay quiet," Liara ordered.
Coming out at an unknown location, they were flying blind now. They had no idea where Amela would be staying, but based on her personality and unhinged fanatical characteristics, Liara safely assumed she would be holed up in the largest and most expensive of rooms. To find that location, they abducted a guard and silently interrogated her until she revealed the location, and they left her with a slit throat via Feron's serrated knife. A cut that Liara herself made, as Feron was now uncomfortable killing a helpless hostage.
They came to Amela's room after carefully avoiding the guards and the door whooshed open. They found her intertwined with another Asari who was naked, on a sofa.
"Who is there?" Amela demanded.
"Hello Amela," Liara smiled widely as she held up her Acolyte pistol and charged a shot. But the delay was enough time for the Asari cultist to throw up a barrier and send her lover away to safety. And with an exertion of will, the air charged with dark energy and a shockwave went out, shattering the windows and sending the trio to the ground.
Amela took this opportunity to run out past them, calling desperately for her guards.
"Sweet Arashu!" Feron swore.
"After her!" Liara commanded.
The three gave chase, dispatching any wayward guards who crossed their path. Amela led them to the audience room and the guards began to fire at them all as the followers congregated there for safety, unsure of what was happening.
"You two hold off the guards," Liara ordered, passing her Acolyte to Treeya and switching to her Locust SMG. "I'm going after her!"
Feron moved swiftly through the guards, slicing throats with his knife - now acceptably in defense of his own and Treeya's lives - and shooting with his Phalanx. He slid down and swept under the feet of a group, sending them crashing to the ground as he sprung to his feet and executed them.
Treeya kept her barrier erected as she charged her shots through the Asari manufactured sidearm. Her damage was minimal, but Feron was lethal enough to compensate for her."
Liara chased Amela up through the levels of the room, knocking away anything that got between them, and trading biotic attacks such as Warp, Flare, and attempting to stop one another with singularities
"You fear me!" Amela boasted as she caught the Shadow Broker in a stasis field. "That is why you come! You cannot stand that the false shepherd shall fall."
"That's COMMANDER SHEPARD to you!" Liara roared as she fired off a shockwave with every ounce of dark energy her implant could muster, releasing herself and sending Amela's taut body crashing into a wall and bouncing off. Before she could recover, Amela was slammed into the ground by Liara's next attack and she screamed in pain. "My best friend deserves to be addressed properly!" Liara seethed.
The followers watched the battle in awe. They did not take up arms to defend their leader. They were lost and hopeless. They would follow any who offered them the answers they sought, and this battle would be the deciding factor.
"Shepard fears the return of the Asari to power. He sends you to stop us," Amela painfully grunted.
"You fool," Liara spat. "I came here to save our people. You'll only destroy us further!"
"These people believe in me!"
"That belief is misplaced then," Liara said as she drew her Locust and aimed. "Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess," Liara said instinctively as she squeezed the trigger and riddled the wounded Matriarch with bullets, ending her life before the eyes of everyone watching through the video feeds.
"Do you see now?" Liara shouted loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Your idol is gone!"
"What will we do now. All hope is lost," a follower yelled back.
"Would you listen to yourselves? Every one of you. The Asari are a proud and powerful race. Because we have the strength to endure the darkest of times. It's dark now, but dawn will come. We don't need to go to war. We need to rebuild ourselves."
"That was well said, Dr. T'Soni," Treeya commented as Liara descended from her plateau and reunited with her friends.
"Liara is fine," she said as she guided them out the front door. Making a series of keystrokes on her omni-tool to send the rest of the promised credits to Julbry.
They returned to Aethyta's safehouse and rested for the night, returning to the shuttle the next day. With Amela dead, her rebellion would quickly die. And Liara's words had resonated with the lost. Nobody would want to resume the Matriarch's mad cause.
The next day they returned to the shuttle, which was, except for a few scratches from attempts to break inside, intact.
Liara took a last look at the city over the horizon as Feron and Treeya talked casually, becoming friends.
"So, what's our next job?" Feron asked as Liara entered the shuttle and the hatch closed.
She smiled. " We're going to Earth... to see Shepard," she answered. "It's been too long since I visited."
The End