She trained in the ruin of a long forgotten courtyard, the blade in her fist humming as it cut through the pre-dawn mist. The fog was thick – drowning the site in grey, clinging to her armored body in droplets of sea-water. The roar of distant waves crashing into the cliffs punctuated the silence – a steady backbeat to the rhythm of her movements.
Broken, time-worn edifices of stone watched her blade-work; priceless relics of an ancient race, silent and mysterious. She paid them no heed. The wonders of the distant past had long since ceased to capture her interest – unlike her mother.
Protheans, she cursed silently as she struggled to keep her focus. The cracked and broken stone-work underfoot lay under a fine dusting of sand, treacherous at the speed she moved.
Her left foot slipped as she executed a high overhead slash, mid-way through the Thirty-forms. She forced herself to stop with a huff of annoyance. That was the second time she allowed her focus to slip this morning.
Dark emerald eyes sought out the nearest statue – a crooked, one armed thing of eroded stone barely recognizable as anything worthy of reverence. Her face pulled into a scowl as she studied it, wondering how something so old and mundane could possibly drive someone to devotion.
A whole galaxy to see, to explore – and I'm stuck here, digging through your rubbish.
Dark energy wreathed her body, and with a defiant roar she charged the brittle stone. It shattered under the onslaught, blasting chips and shards in every direction. She stood in the wake of the petty attack, sheathing her sword into the scabbard on her back with an annoyed flourish.
"What was that," her mother's worried voice called over the com-link.
She took a deep breath before answering. "Nothing, mother - I'm fine." Until you notice one less statue in this graveyard.
"If you're finished, I have breakfast ready," her mother continued.
Valyria T'Soni raised her face to the heavens as she closed her eyes, listening to the distant waves. She fought the urge to sigh again. She loved her mother – loved her brilliance, her compassion, her protectiveness…but something called to her beyond the sad ruins she constantly sought. She wasn't a child anymore – she yearned to see the places and people her mother only spoke about.
One day, she thought, then turned from the site and headed home.
They had found this backwater of a world four weeks ago, scouting for eezo deposits in the Auruglan Cluster. Bereft of civilization – or eezo – it held so little value that it wasn't even named on any of their astrometric charts. It was an island of continent-sized deserts wrapped in shallow, salty seas; a world in its death throes, incapable of colonization and therefore useless to their needs.
Until close-range scanning revealed the existence of these ruins.
Her mother had nearly jumped out of her skin with excitement – but she was forced to stifle a groan.
They didn't need much, as it was just the two of them – but their supplies were limited, and dependent on finding eezo or habitable worlds or salvage – something – to earn them credits. This was not the first time their scouting runs had been waylaid by her mother's obsession with the past.
Valyria found herself missing Thessia more than ever.
Forty years, she thought bitterly, kicking a rock as she walked through the fading mist. The sun was rising now, a searing ball of flame – larger than any sun she had walked under – burning the fog away. It wouldn't be long before the oppressive heat made the world nearly unbearable.
Four decades of wandering the cosmos. Her mother claimed that it would be better for them – peaceful, away from the endless bickering of the galaxy and ruins of lifeless cities marring the home-world. She had been younger then, knowing only that her mother was in pain, and it hurt her to see it.
So they left – entrusting her aunt with the family estate and finances, meager as they were.
She had learned much from her mother during their years of self-imposed exile. Little by little, she pieced together the half-whispered legends surrounding the T'Soni name; legends her mother refused to acknowledge when she was a girl – things she barely believed, even now.
A race of ancient machines, intent on galactic genocide. A young archeologist, who found the key to their destruction locked away in a Prothean vault. A great war – the War – waged by a united galaxy with her mother at the heart of it.
It all seemed too impossible to be true. Her mother was many things, but a hero of such scale?
She shook her head, smiling at the absurdity.
One day, she thought again, perhaps she will tell me everything.
Liara T'Soni grumbled as she typed away on her omni-tool, trying to re-calibrate the automated sprinklers in the small hydroponics bay of the Farseer. The lab VI had glitched again, threatening their limited supply of vegetables with too much water and not enough nutrients. Once again, she faced the unwanted truth: the ship was showing its age, in need of maintenance beyond her ability.
She wished for Tali, cursing the stupid machine again.
"Mother?"
Liara jumped at her daughter's voice, too distracted in her work to notice her approach. "Goddess, Valyria," she fumed as her daughter stifled a laugh. "Make some noise next time or I swear I will warp you."
"Uh huh," Valyria took a step back, folding her arms over her chest.
Liara sighed as she shook her head. She's just like her father.
"The VI again," Valyria nodded to the plants.
"Yes," Liara huffed, "it seems to be code-degradation. Simple enough to fix, but time consuming," she paused, gesturing to the galley beyond. "Go eat – I will be there shortly."
Her daughter didn't move, so she arched a brow at her.
"I warned you two weeks ago that it needed to be replaced," Valyria deadpanned.
Liara managed to keep from sighing. How many times have I heard that tone before? Valerie is probably laughing herself silly somewhere. "Yes, I remember. Please go eat, and let me work," she managed to keep her frustration in check, barely.
Her daughter sighed and stormed off – grumbling under her breath. Liara closed her eyes, willing her heartbeat to slow. The conflict between them had grown steadily during the last few years – to the point that they were nearly always arguing over something. It was beyond tiring – it was driving them apart.
She is nearly ninety years old and wanting to venture out on her own - that was the truth of it. She remembered what seemed like a lifetime ago, when she stormed out on her own mother. She left her to seek the wonders of the past – and only saw her once again, on the day she died.
I don't want that for Val, she closed her eyes and hung her head. She still has so much to learn. She dismissed the thought, eyes narrowing as she focused on the task at hand. They wouldn't survive very long without food, after all.
"Warning – proximity alert," the ship's VI droned suddenly, as alarm klaxons lit up in bright yellow pulses.
Liara cursed, running out towards the bridge. Valyria shouted for her as she passed, then ran to catch up. She felt her heart racing in her chest as they scrambled to activate the de-powered systems. Beyond the curved canopy of the bridge, a lone craft hovered, weapon mounts tracking the Farseer as it landed.
It was an ugly junker of a ship – a conglomeration of different components fused to a beaten hull in haste and efficiency with no regard for aesthetics.
Pirates.
"Mercs," Valyria hissed in the same moment, as they turned to meet each others eyes.
"Stay calm – let me handle this," she told her daughter as she left the bridge at a brisk pace, checking the thermal clip to the Tempest sub-machine gun holstered at her hip.
"Mother, we can't –"
"Don't argue with me Valyria," she interrupted, spinning to face her. "Stay here – be ready. Promise me." Her tone was even, calm, but laced with iron. Valyria nodded, after a lengthy pause. Liara forced a smile, for her sake, as she gripped her arm with her free hand. "It will be okay, love."
"I'll be ready," her daughter promised.
A dozen armed and armored figures awaited her in a semi-circle around the boarding ramp extending from the belly of the Farseer. Liara's eyes flicked between them rapidly – noting their weapons and positions. She was no stranger to dealing with thugs – they were a constant threat throughout the galaxy.
She chastised herself for allowing them to get this close, however – saving fuel and energy for their extended stay had forced her hand. Too late to change that now, she thought bitterly.
"Well, well, well," one of them laughed, a lanky, unclean human male dressed in the tattered remains of scavenged military gear. He hefted an antiquated Avenger-model rifle over his shoulder. "What have we here boys?"
Various whistles and cat-calls ensued.
Liara stopped at the edge of the ramp, cocking her head at them, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"
The man grinned, flashing yellowed, rotting teeth. "Strait to business," he sneered, "whatever happened to foreplay, eh boys?"
More laughter. Liara endured it in stoic silence. Imbecilic animals.
"Tell ya what honey," the man grinned. "Seein' as you're all alone, how 'bout we take you up outta here – let ya get to know the crew for awhile – then we can come back and discuss some trade opportunities."
Liara fought the urge to roll her eyes at the gross innuendo. "I suggest you leave – before someone gets hurt," she spoke slow and calm, as if to a child.
She waited until they started laughing again. "Lady, you got some –"
She flared with dark energy as her barrier went up, sending out a cascading wall of biotics a heartbeat later. Half of them were caught in the shock-wave, thrown off their feet, limbs snapped as they pin-wheeled back into the junker that carried them here. Several left bloody smears where their heads and bodies hit the rusted hull.
The others reacted slowly from shock – most ran for cover – save two that stood frozen in place. She locked them both in a singularity, drawing her Tempest and shredding them with bursts of automatic fire. Blood sprayed, misting the sand as their flailing bodies went limp mid-air.
Four left.
Pufts of sand blew up at her feet as she charged. All four were firing blind from behind the angled nose of the dropship – hitting nothing but sand and denting the hull of the Farseer. She threw a lash with an outstretched hand, pulling two out of cover. She sprayed them with a hail of fire, ejecting the heat-sink with a hiss before reloading calmly.
Two left.
"Eat this," someone screamed as something black and small rolled towards her. She enveloped herself in another barrier, just as the grenade detonated.
The blast rocked her, driving her to a knee. One of them had circled behind, firing wild with an outstretched pistol. She hissed as a round clipped her shoulder – setting her flesh searing with agony. She spun, spraying him with bullets from shoulder to hip.
"Vinne! No!" the last one screamed at her, slamming into her back. They rolled in the sand, then she felt herself being picked up and slammed into the hull of the dropship. Her vision swam with the impact, and she felt two searing, sharp stabs to her guts.
He held her, pinned to the stinking hull of the ship, a blade rammed through her torso.
"Killed my brother, you blue-skinned bitch," he drooled through split lips, rotten teeth and stinking breath inches from her face.
"Your turn," she hissed through clenched teeth, as her eyes and body flared with energy. She reached out with her power, gripped the man's head, and pulled. Bone fractured. Cartilage and tendons popped. Skin ripped and blood vessels stretched to the point of rupture. His wail of agony turned to painful gurgles, then finally ceased all together – as his mangled head fell off.
She cried out then, struggling to free herself as cold weakness spread through her. No, no, no. Not now, not like this. "Val…Valyria…," she choked.
Her eyes were getting heavy. She heard her running down the ramp, screaming for her. Small hands grip her face. A terrified voice tells her to hang on. She doesn't feel the blade wrenched free – doesn't realize how she's fallen. She can't feel her legs, can't breathe. Have to tell her. Have to show her!
With the last of her strength, she reaches up to cup her daughter's face.
"Em…brace…eternity."
She is standing next to her mother in a room of beeping machinery and bright lights – looking into a vertical tank of bubbling liquid – and the floating remains of what was once a person within. Her mother stands, barely, one hand pressed against the glass surface, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Mother," she asks, terrified and confused.
Another human enters, a woman – dark hair, sharp intelligent eyes, slender and graceful. Sadness pulls at her movements, and she hesitates before speaking in a quiet but strong voice. "I am so sorry, Liara. I did everything I could for her – the Crucible…," her voice trails off as she turns to wipe her face.
"H-how long," she hears her mother ask, her broken voice barely more than a whisper.
"Once the machines are off, not long," the dark haired woman answers. "Minutes."
"Mother, what is this," Valyria screams.
"Give me a moment," her mother asks.
"Of course."
"Miranda...thank you."
The human nods as more tears slide from her eyes. She leaves as quietly as she came.
Valyria watches as her mother approaches the tank, leaning her head into the glass. She sobs, utterly defeated, gripping the tank just to stay on her feet. The burnt and broken body within gives no response as it floats - a corpse haloed by scorched crimson hair.
"Shepard…please," her mother croaks. "don't make me…do this."
"Shepard," Valyria whispered. The Shepard?
Her mother sniffs, breathing heavily, trying to gain some control. "I wont do it, Shepard. I can't," she pauses, "not without you."
Valyria's eyes widen – as she witnesses her mother's darken. "Embrace eternity!"
Darkness.
She feels her, all around her, barely there but there nonetheless. She reaches for her – and in the moment their minds connect, she knows. She feels so tired, so weary, but overjoyed that the ones she cares most about will live on. She feels terrible aching shame for what she had to do – of the sacrifices paid along the way. Above all – regret for a promise unfulfilled, to the one soul she loved above all others.
She asks permission, to ease the pain.
It is given freely, with all the love she has, and more.
Goodbye, Valerie. I love you so much.
Always…
She reaches out again – deeper – down into the very genes of the dying woman…
Valyria gasped as she returned to herself, cradling her mother's bleeding body. She cried freely – uncontrollably. "Mother," she sobbed, "why didn't you tell me?"
"Black…box," Liara grunted, "…answers. I…love…you."
The life in her eyes faded with her last breath. Valyria T'Soni, daughter of Liara T'Soni and Valerie Shepard, screamed her anguish at the sun-scorched sky.