Chapter 9
Maw Piss and Battery acid
SSV Normandy SR-2
It wasn't every day that the commander of one of the most advanced ships in the Alliance Navy found herself crawling into a storage cupboard on her belly. As she managed to crack her elbow for the second time, Commander Shepard vigorously cursed the Cerberus designers. Their expertise clearly lay in designing beautiful ships; it did not extend to creating functional storage cupboards. Finally, at the very back of the space, her outstretched fingers curled around the neck of a glass bottle. She crawled out of the cupboard with her prize clutched securely in her fist.
Shepard stared at the dusty, unlabelled bottle for a moment before she eagerly cracked the wax seal on the cap and popped it off. As soon as the cap was freed, a harsh odour practically singed the hairs from the inside of her nose and made her eyes water. Unperturbed, she poured a generous measure into a nearby glass. The thick black liquid seemed to ooze rather than pour. Without hesitation, Shepard downed the drink in one gulp. As soon as it hit the back of her throat she felt an intense burning sensation. With her gut on fire, she closed her eyes until the almost painful feeling subsided. Eventually it was just her head buzzing and a comfortable fire in her gut instead of a roaring one.
Pouring a second glass, Shepard contemplated her next move. She was not surprised to find herself standing in front of the digital photo that sat next to her private terminal. Luminous blue eyes stared out of the frame, not looking directly at the viewer but gazing off at some unknown point of interest. While it was nothing compared to the sight of Liara in person, the picture was arresting. Her serene face held Shepard captivated – time stopped and her thought process slowed to a crawl. Her fingers eventually tightened around the full glass in her hand and she instinctively raised it to her lips. Again the burn followed. This time she was prepared and merely grimaced in response.
Shepard couldn't explain to herself why she still had the picture - declaring a relationship over usually entailed severing ties and scouring mementos from view. The picture was in full view where she could – and did – stare at it often. Her jaw tightened. With a sudden swipe of her hand Shepard reached out and turned the picture face down. Just as quickly she tapped out a few keys on her private terminal. There was a beep as an internal comms channel opened.
"I'd like to take you up on your offer," Shepard said quietly.
The response was almost immediate. "I'll be up in five minutes."
Almost five minutes later to the second, Miranda Lawson walked into the Crow's Nest. The Cerberus operative found the Commander sitting on her couch in the process of pouring two glasses of the foul black substance. Miranda was incredulous when Shepard handed one to her.
"It's good shit." There was a noticeable slur to Shepard's words.
Miranda gave her a level glare. "We're mere hours away from the Omega-4 relay and you're drinking yourself into a stupor? What is this supposed to be anyway?"
"Krogan brandy – well, that's technically not its name, I just made it up...in fact, no one really knows what the hell is in it. Maw piss and battery acid from what I've heard." Shepard raised her glass in a silent toast and downed it.
Miranda eyed her glass suspiciously but at no point did she attempt to taste it. When it eventually became clear that she wasn't feeling adventurous, Shepard relieved her of it. The glass went the same way as the first three, followed by a hacking cough as the substance burned her already tortured throat.
"Shepard, you do realise that we need you fully functional if we're going to stand a chance at pulling this off?" Miranda pointed out in a disapproving tone.
Shepard deliberately and carefully placed the glass down on the table in front of her. When she stood to face Miranda her expression was serious.
"The Krogan drink this stuff before they go into battle. It fortifies them for what is to come," Shepard said, enunciating her words clearly. "They can share a drink with those who might not return. In our case, who probably won't return."
"It probably serves to kill off any remaining brain cells," Miranda said as she stepped further into Shepard's space.
A small smile creased her face as she reached up to brush a strand of hair away from Shepard's forehead. The hair had been covering the scars above her right eye. They glowed fiercely, matching the tiny pinpricks of light that burned within the iris of each eye. A moment later Shepard's arms encircled Miranda's waist in a firm, almost desperate, grip. With a sigh, Miranda buried her face in Shepard's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Shepard," she whispered quietly.
"Why?"
"For bringing you back into a life where everything has changed on you."
Shepard tried to smile but it emerged as more of a grimace. "No, trust me when I say it's exactly the same. I've been fighting with my back against the wall my entire adult life."
"But Liara -"
Shepard winced at the sound of the asari's name and interrupted Miranda, "-and I would never have worked. This is my life, this is what I do..."
Her voice faltered and trailed off. She had reached the point where she was tired of talking. Everything that happened when they went through the relay would be decided through actions, not words. It was precisely what she wanted at that moment as her hands cupped the back of Miranda's neck. The Krogan brandy raged in her stomach as their lips met. This time it was Miranda who pushed her backwards. Shepard fell hard onto her couch, limbs entangled with the other woman's.
The sex that followed was brutally intense and passionate. It served to remind Shepard that, for a few more hours at least, she was still alive.
Presidium Commons, Citadel
"That stuff will kill you eventually."
At the sound of the deep, gravelly voice, Shepard looked up to see an asari bartender staring at her. The intensity of the gaze was more than a little unnerving. For some reason, Shepard felt as though the asari's gaze carried distrust and even a hint of loathing. Perhaps it was to be expected, after all Shepard could now add suspected war criminal to her long list of labels.
"A lot of things will kill me eventually," Shepard replied, only moments before taking another swill from the glass of Krogan brandy in front of her.
The bartender just grunted and returned to polishing a glass with mediocre enthusiasm. The asari eventually turned her attention elsewhere, moving to serve another customer in a bored voice. Shepard was unbothered by the exchange. She wasn't sitting at Apollo's cafe for conversation.
When the last of the black liquid was drained, Shepard turned to leave only to find her path blocked by a slender figure wearing a skin-tight black outfit. An impatient comment had barely formed in her head when she heard a familiar voice.
"Hello, Shepard."
Peering into the shadows of the hood, Shepard saw a pair of full, ruby coloured lips that were so perfect they could only belong to Miranda Lawson. Her own lips parted in surprise. She'd heard nothing from the ex-operative since her arrest after returning from Bahak.
"Hey, Miranda," Shepard replied so casually she might as well have seen the other woman yesterday. "Can I buy you a drink?"
Miranda smirked. "You know you don't need to get me drunk. I'm fine, but please go ahead if you'd like another."
Shepard waved to catch the bartender's eye once again. She pointed to her empty glass to indicate it needed refilling. The asari casually sloshed another measure of brandy into her glass. Some of it spilt over the side and onto her fingers but she couldn't care less. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a long gulp, almost draining it.
"I can't believe you're still drinking that awful stuff," Miranda commented with a grimace. "It should have eaten away all traces of your stomach lining by now."
"These are dangerous times," Shepard replied with a shrug. "I might as well live a little."
"I'd hardly call drinking that 'living a little.' Most people would choose something a little less hazardous to their health. Have you tried dancing?" Miranda suggested helpfully.
"That would be hazardous to the health of others, I'm a terrible dancer." Shepard had to suppress a shiver at some bad memories.
"Well, you could always end up in bed with someone you didn't expect," Miranda lowered her voice discreetly.
Shepard looked away – flashes of Miranda's naked body invaded her mind. "I've tried that...more times than I care to remember."
Miranda leaned against the bar, her proximity increasing slightly. Shepard felt her heart beat more rapidly in response. However she subtly took a step away as she reached for her drink. There was having a chat with an old friend, and then there was getting distracted by an old friend with benefits. She was in danger of succumbing to the latter.
"Shepard," Miranda's tone was now serious. "It's good to see you again."
"Likewise," Shepard replied honestly. Regardless of their personal history, she had long since realised that Miranda Lawson was a useful person to have on her team. "Are you here to offer your services?"
Miranda suddenly smirked a little, but it was gone in an instant. "In a manner of speaking, yes. I want to help you in your fight against the Reapers...and I'm here to ask if I can re-join your crew – but with one proviso."
"Which is?" Shepard asked. She was both grateful for the potential help and unnerved at the prospect of having Miranda and Liara on the same ship. It was a terrible idea, whichever way she looked at it. But she needed them both. For entirely different reasons.
"I can't join you immediately. There is something I have to do first."
"Anything I can help with?"
Miranda was quick to shake her head. "No, it's something I have to do alone. I just wanted to touch base with you before I left...just to say...well, so you knew that you could count on me..."
As Miranda's voice trailed off, Shepard reclaimed the space between the two of them. "Touch base? Miranda, we're friends. You don't need to make it sound as though you're checking in with a superior." She surprised herself by reaching out to place her hand atop Miranda's before entwining their fingers. The operative smiled almost shyly. "If you ask, you know I'll do everything in my power to help you."
Miranda suddenly withdrew her hand. "If I did need help then there's no one I would rather have at my side. But seriously, Shepard, you have more important tasks. I just wanted to see you before I left."
Shepard swallowed, her throat was dry. "Miranda..."
"I know, Shepard," Miranda took a step backwards. "I remember our conversation after destroying the Collector vessel – pretty vividly - and my understanding of what happened between us hasn't changed. All I wanted to say is...you've been a good friend."
"Likewise," Shepard said again. "Is this the moment where I'm supposed to give you a hug?"
Miranda shook her head slowly. "We both know that's not your style. Why don't you just wish me luck instead?"
"That seems kind of inadequate," Shepard mused.
"How about this?" Miranda stepped forward and deposited the briefest of kisses on the corner of Shepard's lips. When she moved away, her smile was sad. "Simple, yet effective."
"Good luck, Miranda," Shepard said. "I'll be expecting you to report for duty on the Normandy when you've settled your business."
"Aye-aye, Captain."
Miranda didn't say another word, walking away and leaving Shepard standing by the bar with a slight tingle lingering on her lips. Shepard watched the ex-Cerberus operative leave, as captivated as ever by the sway of Miranda's hips.
She wiped what was probably a ridiculous grin from her face and turned to leave. However as she did, she happened to glance towards one of the furthermost tables at Apollo's. Seated there, intently studying the datapad in her hands, was Liara. Shepard felt all traces of mirth vanish from her face in an instant. She quickly jerked her head away in case Liara looked up and caught her staring.
"You look as though you could do with another?" the bartender offered almost immediately.
Before she could even nod in agreement, Shepard found another glass in front of her. Her hand curled around it and instinctively lifted it to her lips. Even as the liquid ran down her throat, a part of her gaze drifted back to the far table. Shepard's gut wrenched painfully. Surely Liara had seen her having a conversation with Miranda? The asari only needed to turn her body slightly and look up.
Shepard momentarily thought of joining Liara. There would be a brief comment about Miranda, Liara would accept the truth at face value – after all, it had simply been a meeting between friends. The awkwardness would pass and they'd relax into each other's company as easily as they used to.
Except that Shepard couldn't bring herself to cross the distance between them. Miranda was a friend, but she had also been a lover. So? Liara and I were over, she reminded herself. I fucked Miranda because I thought I wasn't coming back from beyond the Omega-4 relay.
The useless train of thought continued to plague her as she toyed with the drink. Had it been the same with Liara? Had she fucked the scientist simply because she was willing and available en route to Ilos? Shepard tried to tell herself that it wasn't the case, something had been different. The brandy clouded her mind and fuelled an irrational anger. With a quick movement, she drained the rest of the glass and slammed it down on the bar.
Getting the hell off the Citadel and back into the fight was what she needed.
"I'd stay away from her if I were you, Commander Shepard," the bartender suddenly said in a steel-edged voice.
Shepard was used to hearing comments as she passed, but the words caused her to stop and look back over her shoulder. The obvious reference to Liara was surprising. It was almost as though the bartender had a reason to be personally invested. Shepard was too tired to be angry. She simply shook her head.
"There are some promises a person can't make."
Dr Liara T'Soni watched out of the corner of her eye as Shepard threw back her head and downed the remainder of the liquid in her glass.
Krogan brandy, Liara thought almost fondly.
While the Commander did not drink often, when she did it was always the foul smelling liquid that could hardly be called a beverage. 'If you're going to get drunk, you might as well do it properly,' Shepard had explained moments before coaxing her to gulp down a measure. The resulting gasping and gagging, accompanied by a horrible burning sensation in her throat, had led Liara to swear she would never let so much as a drop pass her lips again. Shepard had just grinned and polished off her own glass with stoic fortitude. She had then soothed the raw feeling in Liara's mouth by kissing her soundly.
Liara sighed at the memory. It had come from a rare moment of shore leave spent together only a week before the Normandy had been sent on its last mission against the geth. They'd booked a hotel suite in one of the lower wards of the Citadel. Although hardly five star, it had been discreet and more than comfortable. Especially considering they hadn't set a foot outside in almost the entire week. Or worn so much as a stitch of clothing, Liara remembered.
Liara sat, staring blatantly as Shepard tilted back her head, revealing the slender lines of her neck. That sent a slight thrill through her body, tugging at desires she had spent far too long suppressing.
T'Soni, you need to leave. Right now.
With a determined set to her mouth, Liara put down the datapad in her hand and squared her shoulders. Her chair scraped lightly across the tiles as she stood. However, before she could take a step, another woman joined Shepard at the bar. Despite the fact that the woman was wearing a deep hood leaving most of her face in shadow, it only took Liara a few moments to realise that it was Miranda Lawson. Against her better judgement, she sank slowly back into her chair and picked up her datapad in a futile effort to hide behind the small device. She felt guilty for spying, but could not help herself, watching Shepard and Miranda's every move. Without realising it, her hands had tightened on the datapad to the point where the casing was in danger of cracking beneath the pressure.
Miranda eventually left, leaving Liara simmering at the kiss and willing Shepard to leave quickly before she did something stupid - like drop a singularity on the human's head. Liara sat, glowering. What was supposed to have been a few precious moments of relaxation before returning to the Normandy had become an exercise in humiliation. Everything was made even worse when, out of the corner of her eye, she clearly saw Shepard look up and directly at her.
Now, as miserable as she was, Liara had to sit and pretend not to have seen Shepard. The Commander polished off her drink - Liara had been keeping count and knew it was her third. Her conversation with the asari behind the bar was brief, and she did not turn to look in her direction again.
Less than a minute later, Shepard walked away. Liara stared blatantly as she walked – a part of her willing the Commander to turn around. It may just have been her imagination, but she thought she detected a slight slump to those normally broad shoulders. She continued watching until Shepard was out of sight.
Feeling sick to her stomach, Liara stood and made her way to the spot Shepard had vacated at the bar. She took up a similar position, although her lean possessed a definite sag. Without having to say a word, the bartender poured her a small glass of Krogan brandy and set it in front of her. Despite her oath, Liara swiftly picked up and glass and slammed it back in one gulp. Her mood was such that the resulting burning and watering of her eyes actually made her feel better. When the initial revulsion passed and her eyes cleared, she looked up to see the bartender staring at her with disapproval written all over her face.
Liara turned her head away. "Do not look at me like that, Dad."
Matriarch Aethyta uttered a quiet growl before replying, "And how the hell am I supposed to look? You've got your heart set on a one way trip to the arse end of nowhere with that one, kiddo. The sooner you open your pretty little eyes and see that, the better."
It was easy to find a measure of comfort in the raw, aching warmth the brandy gave her, but Liara was determined not to use it to take the pain away. She waved away the offer of a second glass – if her burning throat wasn't enough, then the pungent odour certainly helped remind her that the drink ought to be banned from civilised society. When Liara opted not to reply, Aethyta uttered a sigh that sounded suspiciously sympathetic.
"I know you didn't exactly invite me into your life –" the matriach began.
"You were spying on me!" Liara interrupted harshly.
Aethyta made no attempt to deny the accusation. She merely shrugged as if it hardly mattered. "I know you don't want me suddenly telling you how to live your life, but I think I'm qualified to offer advice after almost a thousand years of falling in love, casual fucking and everything else in between."
"Dad!" Liara hissed under her breath, casting anxious glances to check whether the other café patrons could overhear them.
"What I'm trying to say is I've made a shit load of mistakes over the centuries."
"Like my mother?" Liara offered quietly.
"No," Aethyta replied firmly. A misty look passed across her eyes and she shook her head. "Whatever Benezia eventually became, I loved her as she was...honourable, loyal, wise...and damned good in bed. I tell you what, she could have me on my back, spread-eagled and helpless faster than you could say-"
"Okay!" Liara had to interrupt again. Hearing about her parent's sex life wasn't exactly high on her list of preferred conversation topics.
"This human is a mistake." Aethyta suddenly returned to her original point. "Like the time I shacked up with Batarian Warlord – it's just bad news whatever way you look at it. He was a real stud...we fucked like troopers, had a hell of a lot of fun but in the end you have to realise that kind of lifestyle only suits those short-lifers. Why don't you find yourself a nice Krogan, kiddo?"
"Because I love Shepard," Liara replied almost immediately, not even wanting to consider what it would be like to wake up to a Krogan every morning. The breath alone would be enough to put her off.
"And I loved your mother...just because you love someone doesn't mean they're always going to love you. Sure, this human may have got her rocks off being with an asari for a while, but it looks like she's moving on -"
"You cannot judge Shepard," Liara protested. "What she has been through-"
"Sure, she died. Boo-fucking-hoo for her, but that doesn't give her the right to treat you like shit – "
Liara shook her head. As Aethyta stopped talking she stopped leaning against the bar, straightened her body and squared her shoulders determinedly. "I cannot get into this, not now. There is too much at stake. Shepard and I need to be able to work together as colleagues. When all of this is over...then maybe you can give me advice on how to walk away from her."
"Well I may be a bit blunt, but I just call things like I see them," her father explained, her gravelly voice softening slightly.
Liara managed a weak smile. "Yes I know, Dad. Thank you for the drink...I think. I will stop by again soon, I promise."
Aethyta almost smiled in response. "I'd like that."
Liara started to back away from the bar. Before she turned to leave she asked, "You are not going to tell me to take care of myself?"
She received a firm shake of the head in response. "You're a quarter Krogan, you're more than big, bad and ugly enough to take care of yourself."
However as Liara walked away, Matriarch Aethyta watched her with sad eyes. "Take care of yourself, kiddo," she whispered.
She then ignored the line of customers waiting at the bar and set about fixing herself a large drink.
Docking Bay D24, Citadel
With the burning glow of Krogan brandy in her gut, Shepard made her way back to the Normandy. She was well on her way to being drunk, without quite having reached the state where she couldn't walk normally,
Shepard reflected on the mess than was her personal life. A small part of her – the drunk part - was grateful for the war. The all-consuming nature of a galactic invasion meant that she had little time to dwell on the fact that she was incapable of holding down a relationship – even with someone she cared about.
Her thoughts were already moving back to the Normandy and the task of ensuring they had all the necessary personnel on board when she found her path to the docking bay blocked by the Turian Council member, Sparatus. Given that he was the very same Turian that had just refused to offer any aid to Earth only a few hours earlier, Shepard was in no mood to be civil – the brandy didn't help.
"Make it fast, Councillor," Shepard growled, pushing her way past and continuing on towards the Normandy's berth. "Some of us have a war to get back to."
She suddenly felt a vice-like grip around her upper arm. Although she tried to yank herself out of the Turian's grasp, he held firm. With a growl of frustration, she stopped struggling and faced him down.
Sparatus released his grip before he spoke in a patient voice. "Earth isn't the only planet under attack by the Reapers, Commander Shepard. You would do well to remember that."
"Fine, noted!" Shepard replied, still angry from being manhandled. However she soon regretted her hostility towards the, especially when the simple fact that he was meeting her clearly indicated an opportunity. When she spoke again, her tone was more civil. "What can I do for you?"
"I may not have been able to sway the rest of the Council, Shepard, but there is a possibility that you could still gain Turian support for Earth," he ventured.
"Okay, I'm listening." Shepard's interest was piqued.
"I'm going to be frank with you, the situation on Palaven is critical. We're barely holding the line against the Reapers and our forces are being decimated to the point where there is simply no reserve."
"Just like Earth," Shepard commented sympathetically.
The Councillor nodded. "Which is why I need to enlist your help, and in doing so, help yourself. The leader of our people, Primarch Fedorian, was rallying the defence of Palaven from its largest moon, Menae. You must understand that if Menae falls then Palaven falls. However it has become clear that we cannot afford to lose Fedorian in its defence. Commander, if you can retrieve the Primarch from Menae, it will go a long way towards earning Turian support. Fedorian will undoubtedly speak for you at a war summit. With his help, you can sway the other races."
Shepard couldn't suppress the surge of hope that rose whilst listening to Sparatus. "All you want me to do is go in with my squad and pull this guy out?"
The Turian councillor nodded gravely. "The situation on Menae is dire, but if anyone can succeed in this endeavour, it would be you Commander Shepard. While I haven't always agreed with everything you have done, you are a formidable soldier."
"And if I say no?"
For a moment Sparatus' expression looked crestfallen - either that or he needed to sneeze, Shepard could never quite tell with Turians. "Then we will all fight alone."
Following a brisk salute, the Turian spun stiffly on his heels and walked away. Shepard was left to ponder his words, with his last statement on repeat in her head. And we'll all lose, she thought as she came to her decision.
Shepard returned to the Normandy to find an atmosphere she could only describe as tense. The CIC was unusually busy for a docked ship, with crewmembers either at their stations or performing essential tasks. Their abrupt departure from Earth had meant that the Normandy had left Earth before the retrofit had been completed and with very little provisions on board - nowhere near enough to sustain the crew for a mission of any length.
To a man, each crewmember who met her eye looked as though they wanted to launch a barrage of questions. Shepard could hardly blame them. They'd all left their family and friends on Earth at the mercy of the Reapers. They deserved more than the silence they were currently receiving from their commanding officer.
"Specialist Traynor isn't it?"
The dark-haired comms specialist looked up from her terminal with a wide-eyed gaze. For a few moments Traynor's mouth simply worked soundlessly and Shepard had to resist the urge to make an impatient remark as she waited for a response.
"Um, yes ma'am. Sorry...I-I didn't realise you knew my name." As though suddenly remembering that she was Alliance personnel, the young woman suddenly snapped to attention. "Comms Specialist Samantha Traynor, ma'am. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy and-" she faltered "- I'm still on board, because we left so suddenly but I can assure you I know my way around communications protocols-"
"At ease, Specialist." Traynor was cute, and already far less irritating than Kelly Chambers, but Shepard had other priorities on her mind than getting to know the Normandy's new recruits. "No doubt you'll have plenty of opportunities to convince me you belong on board, but right now I need you to recall the crew and set in motion our departure. We're leaving the Citadel at 1300 hours."
"Are we going back to Earth?" Traynor ventured quietly, even as she began tapping away at her terminal.
"No." Shepard stepped up onto the Galaxy Map platform. The map was fixed on their current location and she began cycling through star charts until it came to rest on the Apien Crest cluster. She felt a sense of determination take hold. "We're going to a hunk of rock called Menae."
Menae, Apien Crest
Perched awkwardly on one of the uncomfortable benches that were characteristic of all military shuttles, Liara flexed her shoulders and arms within the confines of her new hardsuit. Even though she had chosen a set that was relatively light, the armour felt strange and constrictive. Largely white with touches of blue trimming, it seemed too perfect to be serious battle armour. It was nothing that couldn't be fixed by a few fragmentation grenades slamming her to the ground or scorch marks from the near misses of incendiary bullets. She absently clenched her gloved hand as she looked up at Shepard and Vega seated on the other side of the shuttle. While Vega flashed her a friendly smile, Shepard was intently staring out of one of the shuttle's small windows. The four marines comprising the rest of the squad were too wrapped up in their own preparations to pay her any attention. Liara followed Shepard's lead and stared out of the window, finding some sort of catharsis in the uniformity of the distant stars.
She had been lulled into a false sense of peacefulness when the view changed, suddenly ablaze with colour. Liara eventually came back to her senses and realised she was staring at a planet with its cities burning thousands of miles below. Unconsciously she felt her lips part in shock.
"Palaven," she whispered.
"Shit, man."
Liara looked up to see Vega standing at her side, looking out on the same view."Is that what Earth looked like?"
"Yeah, pretty much the same," the burly marine responded.
On the other side of the shuttle, Shepard stood and only came close enough to see the view for herself. Her face echoed Vega's words. Liara instinctively knew she was thinking of their close friend and squadmate, Garrus Vakarian. She felt as though she ought to share some exchange with the Commander, but the only word that entered her mind was 'sorry' and it seemed less than adequate. The moment passed as Shepard turned her attention away from the view to her weapons - her trusted M-96 Mattock and a Mantis sniper rifle. No doubt the meticulous soldier had done her homework on the terrain they would find below. Usually relying on her biotics, Liara carried only a Carnifex pistol and a light Shuriken machine pistol as back up. Both were strapped in their holsters on either hip. She drew the Carnifex and double checked it was ready to go.
As they passed through Menae's atmosphere, the ride became turbulent. It jostled them to the point where Liara was forced to clutch a nearby handrail for support with one hand, weapon in the other. Buffeted and feeling slightly sick, Liara constantly found her gaze drifting towards the Commander. She remembered previous missions where Shepard had often flashed a carefree, reassuring grin in her direction. Now she could not catch Shepard's eye once. She even found herself wishing that Shepard had left her out of the squad altogether. This thought was quickly dismissed; there were no other biotics aboard the Normandy whom Shepard could call on for support. Regardless of the state of their relationship, Liara knew her position in the squad had come about through her abilities. This was business, nothing more.
As they began their approach run, Shepard made her way forward to the cockpit.
"How are we looking, Cortez?"
"Landing zone looks messy, Commander," Cortez replied. "To say it's going to be a hot one is an understatement."
"Perfect." Shepard slapped the pilot on the shoulder. "Sounds like fun."
As Cortez guided the shuttle in on a trajectory for landing, the squad took up positions - Shepard and Vega at the forefront. Still clutching at an overhead rail for support, Liara winced as the door slid open and she was hit by the combined force of rushing air and noise. The battlefield below them was a riot of movement and flame. Tracer bullets arced backwards and forwards in such a maze that she couldn't tell where one side ended and another began.
A loud retort suddenly echoed in her ears. Somehow having braced herself against the bulkhead, Shepard had sighted her Mantis on a distant target and fired. She was already reloading and searching for another. The sniper rifle was perfectly steady in her hands as she tracked a moving shape. A second squeeze of the trigger soon followed. Below her Liara saw the head of a humanoid figure explode. As they entered the range of Vega's Mattock, he too opened up. The heavy assault rifle seemed to come alive in his hands, a steady thump of bullets erupting from its barrel.
Shepard leapt out of the shuttle before it had properly touched down. The thud of her boots on the ground was swallowed by the intense noise of combat. Liara followed only a few seconds later, a biotic field dancing across the fingertips of one hand and her Carnifex in the other. For a few seconds she stood frozen, appreciating the horror that was the wave of husks sweeping towards the landing zone. The noise of an exploding fighter overhead jolted her back to full awareness and she unleashed a deadly blast of shifting mass effect fields. It slammed into the nearest husk, ripping apart its light armour and continuing to do damage as the fields warped and twisted. Liara waited just long enough for several more husks to come within optimum range before unleashing a throw. The first husk was torn apart by the resulting biotic explosion and the fields radiated out to slam into those surrounding it. The group of husks were flattened. Only two tried to struggle back to their feet and they were promptly dispatched with heavy slugs from her Carnifex.
In the frantic moments that followed, there were targets everywhere Liara turned. Several more biotic explosions followed, breaking up any large packs of husks. Shepard now had her rifle in her hands, laying waste to any husks who escaped the mass effect fields still intact. With the husks down to a remaining few stragglers, it was effective to simply cast stasis on them and either blow their heads or herself or leave it to her squadmates.
It was only when she could no longer find a target that she realised the landing zone was clear. Although she extinguished her field, she kept her pistol in her hand as she moved up behind Shepard. The squad made their way to a compound where a Turian sentry was waving them over.
With the immediate threat gone and bullets no longer whizzing past her ears, Liara realised that her heart was pounding in her chest from a combination of excitement and exhaustion. It took a considerable amount of effort and stamina simply to maintain a biotic field, let alone throw the fields at a target. She was badly out of practice following her time on Mars.
Once inside the barricade, the group made their way to the commanding officer - a grizzled general by the name of Corinthus. Surrounded by his senior officers, the Turian general was intently studying a map laid out on the table in front of him. Although Liara wasn't entirely sure, she thought that the Turian looked tired. His armour was covered in various dents and scrapes, as though he himself had seen heavy fighting. It was only then that Liara felt secure enough to holster her weapon.
"Commander Shepard," he greeted them upon turning. "I've heard a lot about you from my superior, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Your superior?" Shepard asked with a slight frown.
"You're a sight for sore eyes, Shepard."
Another Turian came up the ramp to the command post and announced his presence. This time the face and voice were familiar to both Liara and Shepard. Liara turned to see the welcome sight of Garrus Vakarian. She had not seen her old squadmate for some time and felt a slight constriction in her throat. The Turian was more than simply a squadmate, he was a dear friend.
"Garrus!" Shepard shook hands firmly and Garrus slapped her on the back.
Liara thought she could see the Commander itching to hug her friend but couldn't bring herself to do it in the circumstances. She had no such reservations, when Shepard turned away to talk to General Corinthus, she moved forward.
"Hey, Liara," Garrus said, his tone warm.
Although she hadn't intended the hug to be more than a quick one between friends, once in his arms Liara found she couldn't let go. Pressing her face against his hardsuit was far from comfortable, but there was something about being held that she craved. When she finally did manage to let go, realising her actions, she stepped away shamefaced. However Garrus simply reached out and lightly touched his finger beneath her chin. She lifted her head to meet his kindly expression.
"Is everything alright?" he asked gently.
"Garrus...I..." Liara instinctively wanted to blurt out everything – well, at least everything to do with the deterioration of her relationship with Shepard, which felt like her entire world. Instead she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Garrus. It's lovely to see you again."
He smiled in the subtle Turian manner. "It's good to see you too, Liara. So Shepard's dragged you into this mess as well?"
Thankfully Liara didn't reply with the first thought that entered her head – 'I'd follow Shepard anywhere' – instead she replied with an honest truth, "The crew of the Normandy are like my family. At a time like this, it is where I belong."
"And where you're needed," Garrus added. "I was watching from up on the barricade as your team came in - about to lend a hand until I saw that I'd just be wasting my time. I'd be too late for anything except mopping up little pieces of husk you'd already torn to pieces."
"Girl's got a mean talent!" Vega agreed, earning him a slightly miffed look from Liara and an agreeing nod from Garrus. The marine just shrugged. "Not that asari are girls...even though they've got...well, you know what I mean."
They then turned their attention towards the more serious matter of the task they'd been assigned by the Turian councillor. Shepard's face fell when Corinthus gave her an answer regarding Fedorian's whereabouts.
"I'm afraid the Primarch is dead. He was killed early yesterday morning when the Reapers overran one of our outposts," Corinthus explained.
"I'm not leaving this moon without a Primarch," Shepard said determinedly. "Who's next in line?"
Corinthus looked to Garrus, who shrugged unhelpfully before replying. "Turian laws of succession are very clear cut...I'm just not so clear on who exactly that is. I'll get my people onto it."
"Asap," Shepard urged. "Getting the Primarch is only the first step. I'll then need time to convene a summit...time for the wind bags to talk."
"Your diplomatic skills are as memorable as ever," Garrus commented fondly.
"Incoming!" a loud shout echoed across the compound.
Everyone in the command post looked to the far barricade. The troops stationed there suddenly opened fire almost as one, their weapons firing furiously. Before they could even react, a massive, armoured shape launched up onto the barricade. With one swipe of a large paw, it sent two turians flying from the barricade. Both hit the ground down below hard and did not get up again.
"Brute!" the cry was up.
Without waiting for anything resembling an invitation or an order, Shepard was running out of the post, Garrus and Vega following close at her heels. Dashing off towards danger instead of away from it was something that Liara was used to, she had even come to expect it. Once again with the familiar weight of the Carnifex in her hand, Liara ran. She did her best to push down any twinges of exhaustion she felt as her feet move across the ground. Although the creature sweeping across the top of the barricade was formidable, it soon went down beneath their combined arms fire. Warp fields helped break up its armour and eventually the bullets penetrated its thick hide. With an awful cry, the creature reared up on its hind legs once before crashing to the ground as a dead weight.
The others were already up on the barricade, firing down into the oncoming enemies as she was scrambling up the ladder past the dead Brute.
I am in terrible shape, she thought to herself as she dragged herself up onto the platform. I need less time playing Shadow Broker, more time running for my life.
More husks were rushing the barricade. They were scrambling up the embankments on either side almost as fast as they could be shot down. However the defenders now had the additional challenge of being shot at. Bullets zipped towards them from the arm mounted weapons of creatures that she heard the turians call Cannibals. There were also more humanoid soldiers, although as she managed to get a decent look at one it looked more like a Turian. She alternated between warp fields and throws with her biotics, trying to trigger as many explosions as she could. The blue mass effect fields rippled across the rocky terrain below the barricade.
Eventually she had to resort to the Carnifex as exhaustion once again set in. Two Cannibals directly below her position suddenly trained their weapons on her. Goddess, she thought as she ducked behind cover. Bullets pinged off the metal all around her. Only a few metres away she could see Shepard, fearlessly standing with her upper body exposed above the parapet. She ducked down only to slam another thermal clip into her rifle. Seconds later, the Commander was standing once more. There was none of the rage found on other soldiers, just a blank calm as though she was simply doing her job. Liara went to try and stand herself, only to hear the tell-tale warning of a grenade about to detonate. She flung herself to one side but she was not fast enough. The blast hit her with a glancing blow and sent her flying. With her ears ringing and the breath sucked out of her lungs, Liara was unable to stop herself from falling over the side of the barricade. The impact with the ground further incapacitated her. It wasn't until she groggily looked up and saw a pair of clawed feet in front of her that she realised she had fallen on the wrong side of the barricade. She was lying half-dazed as another Brute approach. Liara jerked her head up in time to see its bulk bearing down on her.
Get up, T'Soni! She thought desperately, placing both hands into the earth and trying to force her torso off the ground. Her upper half lifted and with an anguished grunt she managed to get into a half-kneeling position. She readied her hand but when she tried to summon the energy to build a mass effect field, there was none.
Above her, the Brute was a scant five metres away. It uttered a savage, ear-shattering roar. Although bullets rained down on it from above, it reared up. Liara froze - any moment and it would charge, swinging its claws into her frail body.
Although Dr Liara T'Soni very rarely utilised human curse words, one now seemed entirely appropriate.
"Fuck."
