Liara took a deep breath then put her hand on the door. There was a pause as her print was scanned and in five seconds the door was open. She stepped into the cabin.
The fish tank taking up the wall to her left was empty and only a few lights lit up the room. Commander Shepard was gone, yet her echoes remained. Liara felt them in every corner and shadow of the Normandy. A mind as strong as Shepard's could not be forgotten.
"Oh, Liara!" cried a startled voice. "I didn't know you were on the Normandy."
Traynor stood up hurriedly. She had been sitting alone on the couch and Liara's entrance had spooked her. The Normandy's former communications specialist fumbled with the chessboard on the table. The holographic chess pieces vanished.
"If I had known you were here…" Traynor's voice broke. Tissues covered the floor. Liara could see tears brimming in Traynor's brown eyes.
"It's okay, Samantha," said Liara. She put a comforting hand on her back. "I should have come sooner, but I kept finding some reason not to." Liara looked at the cabin sadly, the bed stripped of sheets with a single office box sitting on the edge. "Organizing Shepard's files wasn't easy but having to go through her things… her belongings…"
"It's strange being in here. It's the same ship but the Normandy is darker and quieter now," whispered Traynor. The two fell silent.
Five months ago the ship had been at the heart of the war against the Reapers. Then, almost as soon as they had returned to Earth, the Normandy was ordered to pull back, leaving London and Shepard behind. The battle appeared to be lost, the Citadel's arms open bare, until the Crucible launched an attack of untold power. The Crucible was a success: Reaper ships crumbled, the sentient machines and their forces collapsed, and the Harvest ended. However the Crucible had an effect on more than just Reaper technology.
In a desperate race to flee the Crucible's might, the Normandy made a crash landing on a lone, distant planet in the Sol System. Nearly all technology shut down and the crew had worked frantically to bring them back online. They were stranded for four weeks on a wild, unfamiliar planet. Once the surviving technology was operational again, the Normandy rejoined the human Alliance and their alien allies.
Humans, asari, turians, and quarians had worked together to construct a station near the Charon Relay. The Crucible had destroyed the Mass Relays, the only means of traveling from one home system to the next. Organic races were combining their resources together once again not to wage war: to rebuild the roads that were lost. With the Citadel still defunct in earth's orbit the substitute station had become the command center for the various species left in the Sol System. But it was humans who had given the station its nickname that soon became officially recognized: Commander Station.
Liara wondered what Shepard would have thought of the station named in her honor. Commander Station was constructed from salvaged parts and every species worked together to keep the station afloat, krogan even worked alongside turians. Before the Reaper attacks such selfless cooperation was almost unheard of.
"Has the Alliance assigned a new captain?" Liara asked Traynor. Liara knew the human Alliance was trying to find a suitable new officer to command the ship. The Alliance crew Liara was familiar with had all taken reassignments or retired.
Traynor shook her head. "No, they haven't reached a decision yet." She continued as she knelt to clean up her tissue mess, "I came to say goodbye. I took a job on Luna. A team there is setting up a new comm buoy system and I volunteered to help."
"With your expertise I'll probably be making calls to Thessia by next week," commented Liara. She took a trash bag from the office box and offered it to Traynor.
"The project is going to focus on restoring transmissions between Earth and human colonies." Traynor threw her trash into the bag and bundled it tightly. "It will certainly be a challenge.
"But you have business here," Traynor spoke lightly, trying to sound professional. "I should get out of your way, so you can… organize Shepard's stuff…" Her eyes fell on the abandoned chessboard.
"If you're not too busy, I could use the help," offered Liara. She took the office box and moved it to the drawers beside the bed.
"I really should be going," said Traynor but she stared at the box wistfully. "My flight leaves at five am, but… Well, I can sleep on the ride there."
Liara sensed Traynor wanted to stay if only for a few extra minutes. Traynor had not known Shepard as long as Liara had, but specialist and commander had become fast friends. In fact Liara was a little jealous of Traynor. The asari could remember when Commander Shepard had been aloof and even cold, a soldier who had kept her team, humans and non-humans, at a distance. Traynor never met that Shepard; she knew Shepard as the dynamic and tenacious Spectre, feisty but practical. The years, the numerous missions, trials, failures, successes, had shaped Shepard. In just a few short years that edgy, solitary soldier grew into a confident, compelling leader.
Liara controlled her sudden rush of emotions. Collapsing in tears was immature and would only distress Traynor. Liara remained calm and composed. She was asari, a knowledgeable race that lived for centuries. Her mother and Shepard would not want her to waste time grieving.
Liara and Traynor started with Shepard's clothes. The Commander's armor had been taken by the Alliance but the items that belonged solely to Shepard had remained behind: spare shirts, pants, extra undergarments. Liara and Traynor carefully gathered what they could. Liara regretted that she couldn't find Shepard's formal black dress. Shepard must have moved some of her clothing to her apartment on the Citadel.
"I never saw the Commander in this!" exclaimed Traynor. She had a cropped black shirt in her hands and a pair of hip-hugging jeans in her lap. "These are high-dollar designer brand too. Wherever did she get these? And why didn't she ever wear them!"
Liara took the shirt and studied it. "Actually, I think Shepard bought these for Jack. Jack refused to wear anything Cerberus provided, so Shepard specially ordered these." Liara folded the shirt and placed it in the box. "Garrus told me Shepard and Jack would argue over a – what did he say exactly – 'uniform dress code'."
Traynor grinned mischievously and elbowed Liara. "Can't you just imagine Shepard in these? Everyone always said the Commander had the best assets," joked Traynor as she put the jeans away.
Liara had feared returning to Shepard's cabin would be a somber chore, but Liara and Traynor laughed together. The two continued working, the mood lighter. Liara and Traynor finished sorting through Shepard's clothing drawer. Next they turned to the bedside table and drawer. The drawer only contained pencils, pens, and two books. Liara examined one book, a sleek hardcover. The books were odd. Shepard hadn't exactly been a big reader.
"War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells," she read aloud. "This book is banned in every school on the Citadel. Mentioning it is blasphemy." Liara looked at the book quizzically. "Even holding an electronic copy warrants a fine." With the Citadel in its current state Liara wondered if anyone even remembered the great ban on the human classic.
"I remember hearing about that when I was in secondary school," commented Traynor. "The hanar took offense to certain elements. They thought it slandered the Enkindlers. Publishers finally agreed to stop producing hard copies. A hard cover edition of War of the Worlds is a really rare find now."
Liara opened to the first page. On the top right was a handwritten note, To Shepard, and below it a heart and the name Kasumi Goto written in English letters and Japanese kana. Liara passed the book to Traynor with a smile. Traynor's mouth opened into a little 'oh.'
Traynor placed the book on the pile of clothes. "Is that everything from the drawers?"
Liara held up the last book, a tattered paperback. The book was so old Liara couldn't read the faded title. Pages were held together by tape. This book was too worn out to be a collector's prize. Liara flipped through the pages and saw the title.
"I'm not familiar with this novel." Liara turned the book over in her hands studying it. She was curious. She was holding an artifact that linked her to Shepard's past.
"What is it? Sun Tzu's The Art of War?"
"Oliver Twist by… Charles Dickens," answered Liara.
"Another gift from our literary thief?"
"No…" Liara held the book gingerly as she studied certain pages. There were notes scrawled in the margins. "Do you know who the author is?"
"Of course! He wrote all the best known classics. Don't tell me you've never heard of A Christmas Carol."
"I was not aware there was a Christmas until fifteen years ago."
"Oh, right." Traynor cleared her throat, embarrassed. "Charles Dickens was an English author back in the 1800s. His works are timeless. Every child on Earth has probably had A Tale of Two Cities or Great Expectations as required reading."
Liara nodded, intrigued. "What more can you tell me about Oliver Twist?"
Traynor frowned in thought. "I've never read it myself, but I know it's the story about an orphan, Oliver, in London who gets caught up in some nefarious plot."
There was silence. Before on the Normandy EDI, an advance AI, was always quick to provide answers to any kind of question, be it turian military law, asari artwork, elcor mating calls, or human literature. The silence was another reminder of loss from the war.
"This was the last thing in the drawer," sighed Liara. She held the book in both hands, a piece of Shepard she never knew about. She hesitated and finally placed the book inside the box. "Next is her desk."
Traynor picked up the chessboard on the table. "Only this and her private terminal were left. Oh, and a ship model. Quarian." She folded the board and stuck it down in the box. There was just enough room to fit one more item.
Liara walked across the cabin. Shepard's private terminal sat in the same spot. It looked exactly as it did when Shepard was alive. Liara could even imagine the green light flaring to life, signaling a new message. The light would blink on and off, on and off.
In the emptied cabin, the green light suddenly flashed on. Shepard's terminal was active again for the first time in months. Liara pulled her hand back, eyes wide with surprise at the insistent blinking light.
"There's a new message," stated Traynor. She joined Liara beside the captain's desk. "There's a new message," she repeated, "at Shepard's private terminal?"
When the Normandy returned without Commander Shepard, the Alliance listed Shepard as MIA then deceased. A dead officer could not receive and follow orders. The news spread quickly and everyone who had served on Shepard's team knew she was gone. A dead Commander could not read and return their messages. With the system wide black out every hacking program that sent out junk emails had been terminated. A dead woman could not surf the extranet and click on shady, spam spewing sites.
The extranet was being monitored and time on the extranet was carefully divided. On Commander Station non-critical systems were kept offline until permission was granted. Shepard's terminal shouldn't have even been working; the Normandy should be on standby.
Then Liara remembered when she entered the cabin. The door had scanned her palm. Power on the ship should be at the bare minimum, lights and automatic doors. All the other doors and the elevator had creaked and worked mechanically.
"The cabin is online," said Liara, "but the rest of the Normandy is idle. Why?"
"Um, well, when I first came in here it was really dark. I might have tinkered with the control panel a bit," mumbled Traynor.
Liara's eyes remained glued to the terminal. She had sorted and archived all of Shepard's messages from her office on the station. The terminal in front of her was empty, or was suppose to be.
Liara pressed a key and the terminal monitor popped up. A screen asked for a password. Without hesitating Liara typed in the code: Archangel.
Password accepted, Liara opened the message screen and a new message icon appeared. The topic read Pictures and the sender name was Norman Chekov. Improbably the message was dated with the current time.
"Do you recognize that name?" asked Liara. The message had been sent that day. Shepard's terminal was due to be wiped clean and recoded for someone else to use. If Liara had cleaned out Shepard's cabin a day earlier the message would have been lost. Perhaps it was only a message from Ariake Technologies confirming the old data's destruction.
"No," answered Traynor. She had been holding her breath, as suspicious as Liara about the odd message. "See if the message says anything."
Liara opened the mystery message. There was nothing to read. There was only a link to open pictures. Liara hit the open key.
The monitor revealed the first image. It was a photo of a human body lying flat on the ground. The picture was taken from the left of the body, providing a close up. The human was inside a black bag, but her face was uncovered. The face was that of a pale woman, covered in scars and burns, her blonde hair splayed about her face.
"They… They found her body," whispered Traynor. "They finally found her body." Traynor closed her eyes and put a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Shepard," she sobbed.
Liara's eyes narrowed. "That's not a dead body."
Traynor looked at Liara, shocked at the asari's detached voice. "What? What are you saying? Are you blind?!"
The next picture appeared on screen. It was of the same woman. She appeared to by lying on a cot inside a tent. Both her right and left arms were hooked into IVs, but the picture was too low to see the IV bags. Her eyes were closed, her face still burned and scarred. The pallor of death's shadow showed, but her cheeks had some color.
"The woman in these pictures is alive," stated Liara, "but barely." There were two pictures remaining.
The third picture showed the woman again, she was sitting up in the same cot. Some of the scars and burns had faded. This time her eyes were open. Pain clouded her eyes, but they were a familiar gold color. Tawny blonde hair with matching hazel eyes, the woman undeniably looked like Shepard.
"Liara, the sender may know where Shepard is!" Traynor had stopped crying. Her eyes hardened. "I can track the sender's location, find out where the message was sent, then we can – Dammit!" Traynor balled her hands into fists. "All the tech has been locked down!" She began to pace. "But I can override the codes, I can access the war room and use –"
Liara held up a hand. "Calm down, Samantha. If you hack into one of the computers you'll be charged with treason. It's not like flipping a switch on the control panel."
Traynor stopped pacing and wringed her hands. "Maybe if I present the pictures to Admiral Hackett he'll let us ."
"Let's not be hasty. This could be a prank or worse, a trap. The pictures should be analyzed first. That woman may only look like Shepard."
"How are we going to do that? Almost everything has to be done manually now! It'll take hours!"
Liara picked up Shepard's terminal and gave Traynor a sly grin. "It's no problem for me." Most of the Shadow Broker's top tech had been lost, but Liara had recovered enough to make the infamous information network the best in the galaxy.
"Right, then I'll help!"
"What about your job on Luna?"
"I'll… I'll…" Traynor threw her hands up and plopped down on the couch. Her post on Luna was a critical mission. The Alliance needed to regain contact with units beyond the Sol System. Millions of people anxiously waited for news about family and friends from worlds such as Terra Nova, Elysium, and Eden Prime. Traynor still did not know if her own parents were safe.
Traynor stood up. This was no time to be worried or uncertain. Her skills were needed in repairing the galactic wide communication system. Traynor was one of the few with in depth experience in operating QEC systems, and QEC might be the key to reestablishing contact with distant worlds. In her heart it's where she wanted to go, and she knew the Commander would have approved.
"I'm going to Luna," she said firmly, "but you'd better update me on what you find!"
"Of course. Until then, however, keep this between us."
"Agreed. It'll be a secret between us girls." Traynor took the box and placed it on Shepard's desk. "You have some work to do, Shadow Broker."
Liara smiled, glad to see Traynor no longer melancholy. But it wasn't just that. Liara felt a faint ray of hope. At last she had a lead on Commander Shepard and her final moments in the Catalyst. She did it once before, she could do it again. Liara would find Commander Shepard's body, warm or cold.
"Let me see the last picture before I leave," said Traynor, looking anxiously at the terminal. Her flight was scheduled to leave soon, and she had spent sleepless nights preparing. Now however she was too excited to consider sleeping. Traynor could still spend her free time finding out what she could about this 'Norman Chekov.'
Liara held out the terminal and opened the final picture. The two were dumbfounded. The last picture was a familiar face, but it wasn't Shepard. Two faces smiled contently their eyes full of love: one a dark-skinned man with close-cut black hair and a woman with caramel skin her face pudgy from pregnancy. They were Jacob Taylor and Bryn, the woman in her third trimester. Liara could make out something that looked like a temple in the background of the picture.
"They're in front of Westminster Abbey," noted Traynor. "Perhaps the sender is trying to tell us that's where the Commander is?" The picture was not unfamiliar to them; Bryn had sent all her friends copies. It had been taken months ago.
"It seems I have a lead," spoke Liara, her mind already at work. Jacob Taylor, an ex-Cerberus soldier, lived in London, England. After the war he and Bryn stayed on Earth, helping rebuild the city that had been at the center of the final battle.
"Be careful, Liara. I'll try to dig up dirt on this Norman whoever and send you what I find," said the Comm Specialist. Traynor held out her hand. Liara hugged her instead, the terminal squeezed between them for an instant.
"I'll message you as soon as I've found something," promised Doctor Liara T'Soni. She made to lay the terminal in the box, then saw the tattered copy of Oliver Twist. She picked up the book and laid the terminal down first, putting the fragile book on top. Liara wouldn't be turning Shepard's stuff in yet. A new plot was being set in motion with Chekov's pictures only the beginning.
