Chapter 2: Prayers For the Dying
And at once I knew I was not magnificent...
Liara stretched her arms overhead, arching her slender back and reaching her hands towards the ceiling of the small lab. She couldn't recall how long she had been sitting at her terminal, but to her body it felt like days. She stood, wiped at her bleary eyes, then began preparing to retire for the evening when there was a sudden chime at her door.
Without waiting for an answer, Shepard appeared in her doorway. She was wearing a dark ballcap emblazoned with the Normandy SR-1 logo, pulled down low on her forehead, but cocked slightly askew. She was idly scrolling through a data pad in her right hand, while her left grasped her ever-present coffee mug and cigarette. Liara jumped slightly at Shepard's sudden visit; the away team had returned from their mission on the moon Presrop only an hour ago, and she had assumed the commander would still be debriefing or working on reports. The asari was surprised, but she was still pleased to see Shepard, despite the late hour.
"Doc - Liara." Shepard greeted her with a curt nod, clearly needing to remind herself of their recent agreement regarding formal titles. "How are you?"
"I am fine, Shepard." Liara said, returning Shepard's nod. "Did the mission go well?"
"As well as any dealing with a deranged biotic commune, I suppose," Shepard remarked dryly. She took a drag off her cigarette and leaned causally against the entrance frame, but kept her eyes on the datapad. Awkward silence soon descended upon the small lab, as Liara patiently waited for the commander to elaborate on her statement. When it was clear that was not going to happen, she timidly broke the silence.
"Shepard? Is there something I can do for you?" Liara clasped her hands tightly behind her back to prevent her from fidgeting in front of the Spectre.
"Huh?" Shepard looked up from the datapad, but then quickly returned to the readout. "Oh, yeah. We're headed to Feros next. Should be there in about a day. I wanted to let you know that you'll be on the away team." Shepard took a drag from her cigarette, exhaled, and immediately took a swig of her coffee. "Ever fired an assault rifle before?"
Liara frowned slightly, annoyed that Shepard was apparently intent on having this conversation with the datapad instead of her. "No, I have not," she said.
Shepard nodded. "I figured as much. I'm scheduling you a training session with Chief Williams tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. She'll give you a rundown on everything you need to know."
Liara tensed slightly. Although they had barely spoken, she had the distinct impression that Ashley was none too pleased to have her aboard. Liara didn't relish the thought of spending an extended period of time with the abrasive gunnery chief, but a training session was a prudent idea. "Of course. I would be happy to attend," Liara replied as amiably as possible. She cocked her head slightly as she eyed the commander critically. Her apprehension was quickly forgotten as she took a long look at the Spectre. Shepard was clearly distracted, and, quite honestly, appeared to have lost some weight. Her uniform pants hung looser at her hips than Liara remembered them being, and it seemed as though her torso had shrunk into the casual t-shirt she wore. Shepard was not a large woman to begin with, and even a minor fluctuation in her appearance was readily noticeable to the scientist.
"Shepard, are you feeling well?" Liara ducked her head slightly, trying to catch the commander's gaze.
"I'm fine," Shepard responded tersely, her eyes still concealed beneath the curved bill of her cap. "Just meet in the cargo - "
Shepard swayed suddenly, lurching into the lab and nearly pitching over. Liara stepped forward and easily caught the commander's shoulders, propping her back up. Her eyes were shut tightly and her face twisted into a grimace. Her breathing was ragged and forced. After a moment, she raised her head and opened her eyes.
Liara gasped. Dark, nearly black circles lined the underneath of her eyes, making them appear like sunken hollows receding into her skull. The normally bright irises were dull and lifeless. A ghostly pallor cast over her features, cheeks pale and gaunt. Liara had read the reports of Eden Prime, and she shuddered when she realized this must have been what the Geth husks looked like.
Shepard's eyes narrowed. "Your concern is noted," she grumbled. She tried to step away from the asari, but Liara tightened her grip. She felt a sudden surge of anger at the commander. How could she have let her condition deteriorate this much? Didn't she realize how much the crew depended on her? How much was at stake? Liara turned Shepard around and forcibly sat her down on the small cot where the asari slept. Shepard's exhaustion was evident; Liara was able to easily steer the commander, even though the well trained Marine could have thrown her across the lab if she wanted to.
"Tell me, commander, are all humans this stubborn? Or is it a personality trait unique to you?" Liara asked, standing over Shepard, eyes flashing. She reached down and deftly plucked the lit cigarette from the commander's lips, tossed it unceremoniously into the lukewarm coffee and placed the mug on her desk. She rolled her chair over the cot and sat down across from the other woman.
Shepard sighed and removed her cap, tossing it casually onto the bedding. She ran her hands through her hair several times, then roughly scrubbed her face with her open palms. She stared blankly at the deck, her shoulders slumped forward in defeat and exhaustion. "My head feels like it's being split in half," she muttered, deliberately avoiding the asari's gaze. "I can't sleep...the beacon..."
"I know, Shepard," Liara spoke the commander's name softly, yet firmly. "Please let me help you." She moved closer and leaned forward slightly. Their knees were almost touching. Shepard raised her head. Dark sapphire irises met the asari's shining crystal blue eyes. Her gaunt features were pulled down into a worried frown.
"Your mind is being pulled apart by these images. We need to do something before you are completely incapacitated. Or worse." Liara paused for a moment, but kept her gaze trained on the woman before her. "That is all I wish to do. Whatever I might see or experience...I promise it will just remain between us. Will you trust me, Shepard?"
Shepard's eyes flashed brightly, and Liara felt as if a surge of electricity passed through her. She locked onto the asari with an intense look, then dropped her head again. Liara wasn't sure what Shepard had intended to convey, but slowly inched forward, moving ever so slightly closer to the commander. Her whole body tensed as she waited for a reaction from Shepard, but the commander made no protest. Later, when she would again be alone in the lab, she would reflect upon this moment and still would not be able to explain her actions. She didn't know what possessed her, or why she thought it was necessary, but after some consideration, she reached out her hand and placed it on Shepard's head.
Shepard sighed, and moved into the asari's touch. Liara could sense the tension drain from the commander's body as she ran her slender fingers through the short curls. Her hair was slightly matted from the baseball cap, but was still thick and surprisingly soft. Liara had never felt anything like it before. She was mesmerized both by the sensation and how much her mere touch seemed to comfort the commander. Even though the meld did not require physical contact, her hand remained where it was as she took several deep breaths. She felt Shepard do the same. Her fingers tightened around the copper curls as her eyes shifted to obsidian.
"Embrace eternity."
The first thing she is aware of is the heat.
Staggering, choking heat.
Liara gasps, tries to take in air when there is none. She drops to one knee, whirls around, sees only faint shapes in the darkness. She begins to cough. It feels as if she's standing in the crater of an active volcano. She feels the roiling magma beneath her fee as it churns just below the surface. She still cannot breathe.
She is only vaguely aware of Shepard. The commander's presence is there, but distant. She offers no guidance, no direction. Liara has never experienced this before, but soon realizes her mistake. She assumes the Prothean images would be shown to her, that the work would be obvious, but she is wrong.
The darkness gives way to light. Liara can breathe again. She is standing in the room of a modest home. Probably a small apartment. A woman sits alone at the worn kitchen table, sobbing silently. Liara looks around. The evidence of a struggle is obvious. Broken dishes and glassware litter the floor. Chairs upended and callously thrown into the living area. A pan rests upside down, near her feet, plain noodles strewn about the floor. Liara takes a cautious step towards the woman. Her face is badly bruised and swollen. A thin trail of crimson runs from her split lip. She wipes fiercely at her wounds, the salt from her tears mixing with her own blood.
A door cracks. Both Liara and the woman jump. A sliver of light is cast upon the destruction of the kitchen. A small girl emerges slowly. She wears an oversized shirt as a nightgown. The collar falls to one side, revealing bony shoulders and a thin neck. She clutches at a worn stuffed bear. Unruly copper curls fall into bright blue eyes the size of saucers. Her right arm is heavily bandaged.
Liara's heart breaks.
"Mommy?"
"Evie, honey, watch the glass." The woman moves swiftly to intercept her daughter before she steps into the kitchen. She sweeps the child into her arms and returns to her chair. Liara watches the young Shepard curl up in her mother's lap. A dazed, haunted look comes over the big blue eyes. Liara's eyes well up with tears.
"You know that Daddy loves you, right?" Shepard's mother rocks her back and forth. The young girl nods, mechanically, like she does dozens of times before. She doesn't believe what her mother is telling her.
"But why does he..." She can't quite get the words out.
"Daddy gets angry sometimes. He can't help it. But he still loves us." The woman is on the verge of cracking. Liara sees through her facade. It's a role, a game she plays for the sake of her child. But it is no longer working. She pulls away, turns the girl in her lap so they face. She keeps her arms around her.
"Remember what you were taught?" The woman chokes back tears.
Shepard - Evie - nods again. She knows her role as well. "We have to forgive people, even if they do bad things."
"Why?"
"Because then the Father in heaven will forgive you. But if you don't forgive, then you can't get into heaven." Evie says the words methodically. Her eyes are dull and withdrawn. Even at such a young age, she doesn't believe.
The woman smiles through her tears, brushes the curls off her daughter's forehead. She was beautiful once, probably before the marriage and Evie. Now she is just a hollow shell. Liara wonders how much longer the woman can keep this up. She kisses Evie's round cheek. "Yes, sweetie, that's right." Her faith is the only thing keeping her together. She reaches forward and takes a book off the table. She flips through pages that are bent and torn with use. "Which one should we do?"
Evie thinks a minute, then extends a slim finger into the worn pages. She finds her favorite. She shifts on her mother's lap as the woman begins praying softly.
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want..."
"GET DOWN!"
Liara spins around. The kitchen is gone. She's not in the apartment anymore. Her boots hit dusty ground. Rock and debris fly at her face. She is engulfed by the sound of gunfire, the cries of dying humans. Battle, it must be a battle. The dust is thick and she's choking again. A handful of humans barrel past her.
A thresher maw follows them.
More yelling. The humans - marines - dive to the ground when the thresher sweeps over them. Some are lucky. More aren't. The beast devours two of them whole, guts two more with its claws. Liara springs back, but blood still splashes at her feet. She looks around desperately, trying to find Shepard in the chaos. Instead, she hears praying.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside still waters.
She is assailed by a high-pitch whine. She drops to her knees, covers the side of her head. She can't find the source of the unholy noise. Now Liara is surrounded by Protheans, their lithe, humanoid forms rush past her as they flee their extinction. Another whine. A large, red beam cuts a swath through the crowd, killing dozens in a single pass.
He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Searing heat again rises from the ground. The Protheans begin to burn. Liara is overwhelmed by the anguished wails. Smoke stings her eyes and they start to water. The pungent smell of burning bodies fills her senses. She hears flesh rendering as it is torn from bone. The ground shakes beneath her and she falls. Another thresher emerges from the depths, like a demon unleashed from hell. It looks like Shepard's tattoo. The thresher twists in midair, then descends upon the remaining Protheans.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.
The burning Protheans scream as they are attacked. The thresher feeds greedily, slurps charred flesh from gleaming white bone. Liara struggles to her feet, still looks for Shepard. She panics. They have to leave.
"Shepard!" Her cries are drowned out by a triumphant thresher roar.
For thou art with me.
The red beam releases another barrage. It carves a slow arc through the Protheans towards her . She starts running. Dust fills her lungs.
Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
"Shepard!' Still nothing. She clambers up a rocky hill as the beam cuts into the earth at her heels. Panicked, she tries something else. "Evie!"
The hill disappears. The heat is gone. Liara is on her hands and knees on a damp, hard floor. She feels the coolness from moist cement on her palm and it is a welcome relief. She stands. She's in a dark, empty warehouse. It's old, crumbling; catwalks that were once bolted to the ceiling now hang precipitously above her. Large windows are boarded up completely. The only light comes from a far corner. She approaches.
A slender young man sits behind a ragged desk, surrounded by monitors and printing machinery. The devices are foreign to Liara, but they look ancient. The man hunches over a display, typing frantically. Long limbs are tucked into his body to retain heat. His glasses are too large for his face and keep sliding down his prominent nose. Stick like fingers pause only long enough to push them back up again.
"You sure? You know he'll find out. Red, too." He speaks in a thin, reedy voice. Doesn't look up from the console. Liara looks to find where the statement was directed.
Shepard stands on the other side of the desk. She looks young, impossibly young. Not more than 15. The bright blue eyes of her childhood are gone. Instead they are dark, flinty, and look decades older than they really are. One hand is jammed into the pocket of her thin jacket, buttoned to the neck. The other holds a lit cigarette. Next to her, a dark-haired boy fidgets impatiently. He has swarthy features, with deep brown eyes and a heavy brow. He is taller than Shepard , but appears younger in his demeanor. He wraps his arms around his torso as he dances. Liara frowns. They are all dangerously thin. They are not dressed for the cold.
Shepard exhales a plume of smoke. "Yes." Gives her companion an icy glare. He stops moving.
"Okay." He pushes at the glasses again. "I ain't gonna ask what you want it for." A few more taps. "First name?"
"Evangeline." Shepard takes a drag, and switches hands. The other disappears into her pocket. The dark haired boy starts to snicker, but checks himself. Shepard ignores him.
"Fancy. E-V-A-N-G-E-L-I-N-E?"
"Yes."
The stick fingers dance across the console. "Last name?"
"Shepherd."
"S-H-E-P-A-R-D?" The fingers pause, waiting for confirmation. He turns. Pale green eyes peer over the large rims. Shepard hesitates. She frowns slightly, and for the first time seems unsure. She shifts her weight ever so slightly. Liara takes notice.
"Yes," she says finally.
A nod. "Birthday?"
"Don't care. Make it today."
"How old you wanna be?"
"Eighteen."
Now he is skeptical. He eyes Shepard's slight frame. "Think anyone'll buy that?"
"The fuck you care?" She snaps. Her features are hard. She seems impervious to the cold.
"Fine. Don't come crying to me if you get pinched."
The dark haired boy emits a derisive snort. "Preach here ain't never been pinched!" He puffs out his chest proudly. Looks over at Shepard for approval. She just shakes her head.
One of the printing machine coughs to life. It groans and churns in protest of the operator's commands. It is heavy and boxy, and shakes the table it sits on. Liara swears she can see smoke rising from the thing. It takes a labored breath then spits out a square card into the attached try. Shepard snatches it up, flicks on the holo-ID's display. It meets her approval. She pockets the card, then pulls half of a sandwich out of her pocket. She places it carefully on the table, along with a single credit chit. The thin, long fingers shoot forward and snatches up the food, as if Shepard would change her mind. He practically ignores the chit. Sheaprd turns and leaves without a word. Her companion scrambles to follow, casting longing glances at the sandwich.
The bitter wind slaps Liara across her cheek when she exits the warehouse. She starts to shiver. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to daylight. They're in an alley, lined with dumpsters overflowing with refuse. Crumbling buildings surround them. The skyline of a soaring metropolis stands out against the dull grey sky. The dark haired boy squeezes his arms tighter. Shepard squits, steels herself against the cold and forges ahead to the street.
They are stopped almost immediately. Three boys emerge from behind a dumpster. They can't be much older than Shepard, but they are much larger than her. They seem impossibly thick and strong compared to Shepard and her friend. Liara's pulse quickens.
"People only see Rabbit for one thing." One of them steps forward. The collar of his thick jacket is turned up against the cold. A dark knit cap sits on top of matted brown hair. A dark wooden bat dangles from his hand. "You ain't thinking about headin' off-world, are ya, Preach?" The other two, both dressed just as warmly, move in unision and reveal their weapons. A crowbar and a pipe.
The boy starts fidgeting again, tosses nervous glances from Shepard to the other boys and back again. Shepard is unconcerned. She finishes her cigarette and flicks it away. Waits to exhale before replying. "Don't answer to you, Junior."
"Not yet," Junior sneers. He moves closer. A jagged scar runs down the side of his face. His right eye is half-closed. "Red's headed upstate soon. You know who that leaves in charge." His grip tightens on the bat.
Her companion's eye widen. He wants to run, but they are backed into a dead end. The only escape is through Junior and his thugs. Shepard remains defiant.
"You think Red's gonna give it to you?" she snorts, then spits on the ground. Liara is amazed at her fearlessness. Junior and his crew could easily overpower them.
"Oh, I'll get it. One way or another." Junior's sneer curls into a diabolical smile. "And they're ain't no prayer in that book that's gonna help you when I do." He raises the bat and jabs Shepard in the chest. Liara then notices the small book poking out of Shepard's breast pocket.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.
Shepard jerks so suddenly Liara almost misses it. She tears the bat from Junior's hand, then brings it across his face with frightening speed. The meaty thwack of the impact echoes through the alley. Junior drops to his knees and spits blood onto the ground. The two others advance towards Shepard, but suddenly stop. They both nearly walk into the business end of Shepard's pistol.
"You're gonna regret that, bitch." Junior stands slowly, wipes his mouth. Shepard tosses the bat back to him. She aims the pistol between his eyes.
Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
"Get out of here," she growls. Shepard and Junior lock eyes. The pistol doesn't waver. He gestures at his companions.
"See ya around, Preach." They turn to leave. Shepard keeps her pistol drawn until the thugs exit the alley. She exhales heavily, then stashes the weapon in the small of her back.
"You ain't leaving, are you?" Shepard turns to her companion and his youthful features twist into a look of unbridled fear and worry.
"No, Trey." She slings her arm over his shoulder. It's an awkward gesture, given the difference in height, but Shepard keeps it there. Trey stops shivering. "I ain't going nowhere."
Together they walk out of the alley, to the empty street ahead. Liara dutifully follows. When they reach the sidewalk, Trey falls. She springs out of way, then gasps in horror. The back of his head has exploded, pouring blood and brain matter over the concrete. Shepard is gone.
The high-pitched whine returns. A red beam cuts across the street and gouges a trough through another building. The sky is black. The city is burning. Flames shoot out of the distant highrises. The beam swings through the skyline and cuts entire skyscrapers in half.
Commander Shepard now arrives. She stands next to Liara in her Alliance blues, as if she were in the CIC back on the Normandy. Liara could not be more grateful. She turns to the commander, but the blue eyes stare straight ahead, serenely gazing upon the unfolding devastation. Liara feels Shepard brush against her. She reaches out and takes Shepard's hand. Their fingers intertwine perfectly. Liara looks out over the burning metropolis.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Together they watch the world end.
