Chapter 9
Aisha couldn't believe the information flooding her mind. It was all clear now. There was nothing lost in translation, nothing misinterpreted, nothing untranslatable. The gravity of it all hit her. This was incredibly serious, far more than she'd imagined a few days ago. This wasn't just a mission to prove her worth as a Spectre. The stakes were much higher now. They needed to act now. The Rachni drone touched Manco, Skye and Orkney, explaining everything to them. She was still processing the images, the sounds, no, the music, when Manco barked on his Omni-Tool.
"Take us to the Refuge system. Gimme an ETA." He made no effort to hide the sense of urgency.
"About ten hours." A voice answered back. Manco nodded and shut off his Omni-Tool. He looked at Aisha, his posture was more relaxed but his eyes werre hungry with a challenge in front of him.
"Looks like we got ourselves some downtime. How about we finish our game of pool?" He asked Aisha, his eyes looking keenly upon her.
Aisha smiled mischievously. "We finished it. I won. You conceded your shot. I sunk the eight ball. Therefore, I win."
Manco grinned and chewed on his cigar. "If you ain't cheatin' you ain't tryin'. I like that, nice to know you can fight dirty when the need arises."
Aisha wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or not, the confusion was plain on her face. Manco turned to the rachni drone and touched his hand to one of the creature's forelimbs. "You like music, huh? How about we listen to some tunes. I think we should start with the Nesun Dorma."
Aisha didn't know what the creature thought of that, but the drone followed Manco as they went off towards the rec room. It wasn't long before she heard various exclamations of surprise. She hoped the drone wouldn't interpret the music as a form of torture, though she'd be sympathetic to such a claim. She turned around and faced her crew, she knew she'd have to face the music of a different.
"We need to talk, Aisha." Orkney said plainly. Aisha nodded, she didn't need to see Skye's blinking to know he was in agreement.
"Just what's going on with you and the Shadow Broker?" Orkney said. There was no judgement in his voice, concern and curiosity were the main ingredients. There was no hint of admonishment. She couldn't keep their unit cohesive if she continued to lie and evade, but she'd sworn to take her mother's secret to her grave. For all of their many arguments, Aisha still loved her and wished no warm to come to her.
"We've had some dealings before." Aisha began, finding herself evasive, she saw the look of disgust begin to colour Orkney's keen eyes. The look felt like being stabbed with a spear. She looked around, saw they were alone. But maybe the docking bay was lined with listening devices.
"Let's head to our ship to talk about this." She suggested.
Orkney nodded, sensing the sensitivity of the subject. Aisha walked briskly to their cruiser, her two crewmates directly behind her. She stopped in the airlock, waiting for the exterior doors to close.
"I'm sorry, but...I know who the Shadow Broker is. I'm sworn to secrecy." Aisha said simply. She felt a strange sense of levity, a burden lifted from her shoulders.
The look in Orkney's eyes remained unchanged. "You couldn't share this with us before?"
"I never thought it would come up." Aisha said. This much was the unvarnished truth. She chided herself for still not being fully open and honest with them. Was it really that hard to say? She could trust them. She knew she could.
"This one postulates the one known as Shadow Broker is in fact your mother." Skye said suddenly. Aisha looked at him, the shock on her face as good as any verbal admission.
Orkney looked pensively at the hanar, and then he looked at Aisha. The look in his eyes softened somewhat. He nodded, connecting the same dots Skye had. Maybe Aria wasn't idly boasting when she'd said knowing the identity of the Shadow Broker was simply of matter of knowing the right facts. That was as true of her mother as it was previous Shadow Brokers. But what facts could lead someone to come to that conclusion?
"I get why you'd want this secret, but couldn't you trust us?" Orkney asked.
"You know things aren't great between mother and I. But I promised her and I keep my promises." Aisha explained. Orkney understood honour as well as any turian. Surely this would resonate with him. With Skye as well.
"Your secret's safe with us." Orkney nodded. "Now that that's out in the open, is there anything else?" He sounded like a parent of wavering patience dealing with a troublesome child.
"No, that's it." Aisha said, feeling drained, ashamed, she'd lied to her closest friends, fellow Bridgeburners.
"Okay, well, thanks for coming clean. I think Bessie and I have another appointment with Sarozov." Orkney said and quickly left the airlock. Skye trailed behind him. Both were eager to leave her company.
"I'm sorry." Aisha said to them, the turian warrior at the bottom of the walkway stopped in his tracks. He turned his head sideways, but wasn't looking at her.
"So am I." Orkney answered and continued on his way. Skye flashed a few vibrant colours, he shared how Orkney felt. When they left her view Aisha punched the bulkhead and cursed. She'd screwed up. Orkney was right. She could've told them at any time. They wouldn't betray her. Like her they would take the secret to their grave. She'd undermined the team's cohesion and trust over a minor matter. Would they forgive her, or would this be the first tremor leading to a cataclysmic break between them? She had to fight to regain their trust. She punched the bulkhead again, causing a deep dent to appear and her fists stung with pain.
"You okay in there?" A charming Glaswegian voice asked from the bottom of the ramp way. The voice startled Aisha out of her anguished contemplation. Below the ramp was Mac-D, still wearing the same old soiled orange jumpsuit, her face still lined with grease stains. Her eyes and hair seemed to glow all the more.
"I'm okay." Aisha said weakly, grateful for a distraction and feeling oddly nervous. Mac-D walked up the ramp.
"Permission to come aboard?" She asked at the airlock's threshold. Aisha nodded, chuckling at the sudden appearance of politeness.
"Would you like a tour?" Aisha asked.
Mac-D nodded. "You must be bloody fucking brave to fight around in this bucket, especially without an engineer."
Aisha opened the inner airlock door, deciding to ignore her backhanded compliment. "It's mostly automated, minimal number of moving parts ." Aisha explained.
"The more pipes you put in the plumbing, the easier it is to clog it up." Mac-D said, looking into the cockpit. Aisha didn't know what to say, the statement had a ring of truth to it, despite the analogy being false upon analysis. Mac- moved into the cockpit, she moved sleekly. Something about the way she moved caught Aisha's eye.
"Is that an Kassa Fabrication model 124 cockpit console?" Mac-D asked, her voice excited.
"Yes." Aisha answered, a prideful smile appearance on her face.
"How in the blazes did you get your hands on one of those?" Mac-D's excitement was obvious.
"If you go to Illium, there's a trader there who still makes them. If you want, I can refer you." Aisha offered, her pride tickled that someone would be so interested in her ship. That Orkney had acquired and installed it was secondary.
"Will you? That'd be fucking brilliant!" Mac-D smiled broadly, exposing a row of perfect white teeth. She gratefully tapped Aisha's arm and walked out of the cockpit, her eyes peeled to every detail of the ship's interior. Aisha felt a strange warmth when Mac had briefly touched her. She wasn't sure how to react.
"Where...are you from?" Aisha heard herself asking after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. Mac was kneeling down in front of a panel next to one of the workstations. Without asking Mac removed the panel and peered inside, sticking her head entirely in. Aisha had no idea what she was looking for. Mac retrieved an Omni-screwdriver from one of her pockets. It was a small device, cylindrical and the size of a large pen, yet every engineer worth their salt had one. A human many years ago tell her it reminded him of a sonic screwdriver, whatever that was.
"I'm from Glasgow." Mac answered.
"Is that... on Earth?" Aisha asked. Mac being prone on the ground gave Aisha plenty of time to look at her body. Aisha knew it was rude but she couldn't resist. She had to admit, Mac had an impressive figure, lithe yet strong.
"Aye. What kind of booster coils do you use?" Mac asked, her head still buried deep in the panel.
Aisha answered her.
"Ah, that explains everything." Mac said. Aisha heard strange scurrying, grinding sounds. She felt no anxiety or worry, Mac wasn't going to sabotage or damage her ship.
"Is Glasgow a nice place?" Aisha asked.
"Well, let's just say when the Reapers showed up and started making a mess, we just wondered what all the fuss was." Mac replied. Aisha could tell she was smiling.
"Sounds like paradise." Aisha answered back, matching her sarcastic tone and a smile appeared on her lips. Mac crawled back out of the panel opening. She placed the panel back in place and then stood up. Aisha looked at her curiously, Mac wore a proud, satisfied smile.
"There. I just increased your data transfer rate by 15%." She said and then explained how she'd done it.
"Thank you." Aisha said with a big smile. "But... why did you help? I didn't even ask. "
"Why not?" Mac shrugged her shoulders casually, her eyes scanning around the interior of the ship, her keen eyes alert for anything that would require her adept touch. After a few minutes Mac was satisfied.
"This is a nice ship you got, I like the job you've done with it." Mac said, walking towards the airlock. Aisha walked with her. Together they walked towards the Rachni ship. It was a strange design, the hull glowed a deep shade of green, it seemed gelatinous rather than solid. As they approached it they felt, rather than heard, a low rumbling, droning sound. They walked towards it like pilgrims approaching a holy relic. Aisha reached out and tentatively touched the ship's hull. Ripples emitted forth, like she was disturbing still water, it almost felt like her fingers were dipped in a warm liquid.
"Wow." Aisha whispered breathlessly. "Try it!" She urged her newfound human friend.
Mac did the same. Her face awash in wonder. It was unlike any sensation. Aisha realized it wasn't just touch, but her smell, hearing and even eyesight were affected by this contact. It was subtle but recognizable nonetheless. Both of them retrieved their fingers at the same instant, they'd somehow sensed the ship had enough. As if the contact were tiring it, somehow. Both looked upon the ship no longer as an instrument, but an actual, living being. They slowly backed away and turned around, as if in a trance. They started walking towards the recroom. The more they distanced themselves from the ship, the more their quasi hypnotic state decreased.
"Wanna go for a drink?" Aisha asked, the first thing on her mind.
"Aye. I'm off duty and I could do with some Scotch." Mac said. "You ever had Scotch before?"
Aisha shook her head.
"Looks like we'll have to change that." Mac said with a big smile. Aisha chuckled in response. She was looking forward to trying out Scotch, she couldn't explain why. Human liquor hadn't impressed her, they all seemed lacking in character like brandy or simply too harsh like vodka.
They stepped into the recroom and the mood was much different. Mac was standing by the music player, his arms wildly gesticulating in time to another horrid opera piece. The rachnni drone was bobbing it's head in time with the music. To Aisha's utter astonishment, it seemed to be enjoying it. At least a dozen other crewmembers were gathered, gazing either openly or covertly at the rachni drone. Some were taking pictures and videos with their Omni-Tools. Some approached it hesitantly, trying to pet the creature, which it didn't object to. A vid of a rachni drone enjoying human opera would be a huge hit on the extranet, even if most would think it a hoax.
Aisha followed Mac to the bar, they on stools next to the other. Aisha let Mac order their drinks. Mac reached into her breast pocket and removed two small devices and placed one in each ear. Aisha looked questioningly at her friend.
"They're earplugs." Mac explained. "Help keep the noise down. Would you like a pair?"
Aisha eagerly nodded. The mystery of how the crew tolerated the captain's unique taste in music answered for her. Was there some other piece of technology that could make the odour of his cigars tolerable as well? Mac searched in her breast pocket and retrieved two more earplugs. Aisha opened her hand and Mac placed earplugs in the palm of her hand. Their touch was brief but Aisha felt a brief electric shock shoot through her. She tried to act as if she hadn't felt it, casually removing the coating from their earplugs and placing them in her ear buds.
"Much better, eh?" Mac asked her with a warm smile. Aisha was surprised to hear Mac's voice so clearly, but quickly realized this earplugs had a transmitter embedded in them, making conversation easier. A bartender arrived with two doubles of Scotch. They toasted, their glasses making a muted 'clinking' sound, Aisha downed the strange spirit with no hesitation. The drink flooded her mouth and a satisfied smile appeared on her face. Mac smiled in turn, pleased she'd turned a new friend onto her favourite spirit.
"So, I gather your mum saved the Rachni?" Mac said, for the first time something approaching hesitance in her voice. Aisha tensed slightly.
"Well, my father actually but, yes, she did." Aisha drowned another sip. Mac waved at the bartender who arrived with a bottle and left it for them. Both were grateful for this. Mac took the bottle and refilled both of their glasses to the rim.
"How does it feel, seeing one now, knowing what your mu..., I mean your dad, did?" Mac asked. There was no malice in her question, only genuine curiosity. All her life she'd been peppered with questions about what it felt to be Shepard's daughter. Only those questions weren't really about her, they were about her father. No one cared what she thought or felt. And here was a question about her. Mac wasn't interested in asking the questions that were the bane of her existence. She wasn't curious about her father, she was curious about her. Aisha at first didn't know how to respond, her stock response of relying on cursing and deflection weren't appropriate.
"I feel..." Aisha began, unsure of how to describe what she felt. "I'm not sure how I feel." She said finally. "I know what she did, better than most, but I never felt a connection with it."
"Really? She saved the galaxy!" Mac exclaimed, her head tilted at an odd angle.
"She'd be the first to tell you she didn't do it on her own." Aisha said. She sipped some more Scotch. "I mean, I always heard about what she did, and I could see on the news or on a star map consequences of what she did, or have to read about it in school. Sometimes she'd tell me, but only if I asked and... some things she wouldn't go into details about. They were two different people, the father I knew, and the one everyone else knew. To everyone else she was a big hero, a wise leader, but I knew her like no one else. I knew the screams from the nightmares that tortured her. As I got older, I could even tell what kind of nightmare she'd had from the screams she made. I knew how she tried to spoil my sister and I. But because of her work, we didn't spend much time together. We always made plans and she had to cancel them. When I was younger I blamed her. I understand why now but I'm still... upset we didn't have more time together." Aisha said and promptly grabbed her nearly full glass of Scotch and downed the entire thing. Her body trembled slightly as the strong spirit coursed through her system.
"What about when she retired?" Mac asked her.
"It was... too late then." Aisha said quietly, staring into the distance after sipping some more Scotch. "I was out of my own, living my life. And then she got dementia. Then... I don't mean to sound cruel, but there wasn't much point in spending time with her then." Aisha said without malice, her voice reflecting only sadness.
Mac's eyes widened in surprised, and much sympathy. She reached out and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. Her touch was warm and comforting. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Aisha nodded kindly. She grabbed the bottle of Scotch and refilled both of their glasses. Her hand was wobbly, and she spilled some Scotch on the table.
"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but could we change the subject?" Aisha said. The last thing she wanted to feel now was crestfallen. She looked askew and saw the dartboard was unoccupied. Maybe she would be as good with darts as she was with pool.
"Could we play darts?" Aisha asked. Mac nodded and smiled, it was a smile wreathed in playful maliciousness.
"You might regret that. I am going to wipe the floor with you." Mac stood up, she hobbled slightly. "But first, I need to go to the loo. See ya in a bit." Mac drunkenly walked towards the washrooms. Aisha grabbed both glasses and the bottle and made her way towards the dartboard. She suddenly became aware of an acrid smell near her.
"You best be careful darlin'." Manco said, suddenly appearing next to her.
"Why's that?" Aisha asked, walking cautiously, not wanting spill either the glasses or the bottle.
"Mac-D's a ginger and you gotta watch out for them." He said.
"Why's that?" Aisha asked, puzzled.
"Gingers are soulless killing machines. They'll swallow your soul and then munch on your bones." He said.
"You mean she's an Ardat-Yakshi?" Aisha asked, turning to look at the human. Manco's cigar almost fell out of his mouth as he laughed. Aisha shot him a deathly glare. And then burst out into laughter. She laughed so hard she almost spilled the Scotch, but recovered in time. She walked the final few steps to the dartboard and placed the drinks on a nearby banister. Manco winked at her and returned to the jukebox, selecting another piece for the rachni drone's incomprehensible enjoyment. Mac returned from the washroom, and they began a perilous, drunken game of darts.
Liara awoke with a startled shake. For moment she wondered who this warm body sleeping next to her was. Then she remembered. How blissfully overwhelming it felt. And that feeling again. Joy. But it was wrong. It was all happening too fast. She needed to think. To reflect. To get an objective perspective. Carefully, gingerly she slid out of bed, venturing over to the closet to done a bathrobe. Isolda was still sleeping, her face, her body, completely devoid of tension. They hadn't fully joined their minds last night. Liara had blocked away anything relating to Cass and being Shadow Broker. Isolda had closed off a portion of her mind, undoubtedly relating to her deceased family and traumatic war memories. It wasn't uncommon for older-lived asari to close off certain memories from their partners. Whatever this was, whether a true bonding or something short termed, children weren't in their future so there was no problem.
Liara walked down the hall into her office. On the surface her office looked like any other with chairs, desks, cabinets and bookshelves lined with antique books, but this was a deception should she ever entertain guests or intruders. The latter was extremely unlikely owing to the myriad of security measures she'd installed. She keyed in a passcode on her Omni-Tool. A fully stocked bookshelf to her left parted, a secret doorway to her Shadow Broker office. She walked through the clandestine doorway, the bookshelf closing behind her. An elevator took her down three stories into the basement.
The doors opened and Liara walked into her Shadow Broker office. It was large, expansive with dozens of view screens and computer consoles. But it was cold, mechanical, utilitarian. There were no plants or artworks, nothing to distract her. She stood in front of the main console and started running through her data feeds. She was behind, a massive backlog of work. There was only so much a VI like Glyph could do. While she worked, leaking information here, hiding it there, brokering trades, keeping tabs on Aisha, she thought of Ferron again.
Finding his assassin had been easy, a sleeper agent, conditioned to be unaware he was an assassin, until the moment arrived. All these years later she'd come no closer to finding who was responsible. It was her greatest failure. She'd stepped away from being Broker. And then Ferron was killed. Together they could've foreseen it, stopped it. Now, decades later, she still didn't know who'd ordered it, there were always upstarts who wanted the vaunted position, but they were easy to deal with it and even easier to see coming. They knew his assassin had been mentally conditioned to find Ferron and kill him. The most effective assassin is one who doesn't know they are an assassin. But who had conditioned him? She wouldn't accept she'd never know, she'd find out eventually, even if the perpetrator was most likely dead at this point. She had few leads, none of them new, and they all lead to dead ends.
She kept working, going through her tasks she came at last to Isolda. She'd downloaded her profile and notes from the hospital. The firewalls had been easy to penetrate. She'd fought herself over it, finally surrendering to the temptation to download it. But she hadn't opened it. What right did she have to view such a document? Did she really need to know everything about everyone? Would she like Isolda prying into her darkest hours? Her finger hovered over the console. A simple touch would reveal all. Her finger hovered over the screen like the sword of Damocles.
Her eyes turned over to her internal security feed, the image lingered on Isolda sleeping peacefully in her bed. A bed that for the first time in ten years had known someone's shape other than her own. It was strange seeing another form there. She almost expected to see Cass again. What she would give to live with her again! She felt like Cassandra did in the days after the end of the Reaper war, dreading the call of duty yet being unable to turn away from it. Did she really need to be Shadow Broker? There was nothing in her life. Her music and family were the only surcease from this prison of responsibility. With Isolda, she felt alive again, she realized how joyless her life had been since Cass' death. She couldn't deny the strong feelings coursing through her veins, like she'd drunk an elixir now reinvigorating her entire body. She couldn't live her life a hermit. But she couldn't just let it go. It would create a terrible void, a void that would be filled by someone rash and ruthless.
Did she want a life with Isolda? It was impossible to say, their connection was intense but they hardly knew another. If she did, she couldn't hide being the Shadow Broker from her. Could she trust Isolda with such a secret? Or, should she simply abandon being Shadow Broker? Shut down her entire apparatus, and leave the galaxy to unfold without her? She knew how strongly tempted Cass had been by her playful suggestion, in the last hours before the assault on earth, to elope and leave the galaxy behind. That's how she felt now. With Isolda, she wouldn't feel the gnawing emptiness, the burden of bereavement ever again.
Isolda stirred on her view screen, it was almost dawn. Liara stood and left her Broker office, she didn't want Isolda to awake with her down here. It would cause awkward questions. She arose in the elevator, the morning light beginning to gently seep through the windows. She closed the bookshelf behind her, and walked back towards the bedroom.
Isolda was stirring, Liara slid into bed. Isolda smiled groggily at her, her eyes peeking at her like a sleepy cat. They embraced another, Liara almost sighed. She'd forgotten so much about being with someone, the simple pleasure of awaking next to a loved one, the loving touches and caresses, someone to kiss in the morning, someone to share a breakfast with.
"Good morning." Isolda said after a deep kiss.
"Good morning." Liara smiled brightly.
"You an early riser?" Isolda asked. Liara nodded, hiding the reason she was an early riser.
"Good that makes two of us." They kissed another again. Isolda held her close and they made love to start their morning.
Liara cooked breakfast for them. The first non-family member she'd done this for in a long time. She preferred not to think about the time Grunt and his brood stayed over, the mess took an entire month to clean up. While the redberry pancakes cooked, they chatted, casually, like old friends. When they finished Liara took her for a tour, both of them cradling cups of freshly brewed tea. They were walking through one of the hallways, lined with her late mother's artworks.
"I noticed you have some heavy security here. Is that because the Councillor was fearful of her security?" Isolda asked, looking at one of the dome cameras subtly nestled into the ceiling.
Liara nodded, though that wasn't the whole truth. Can I base a relationship in a nest of half-truths, evasions and lies? She knew the answer. "Yes, I'm grateful they never needed to be used." Liara said.
"Why still keep them?" Isolda said, sipping from her cup of tea. Her eyes looked casually upon her, it eased Liara's concerns.
"Well, they're nice security features to have." Liara said, looking to an ancient asari fresco of a bird standing in a nest, feeding it's hatchlings. It was ancient, one of the oldest asari relics in existence.
"Surely the maintenance costs are significant." Isolda said.
"Not really." Liara said, stirring some batter into the cooking pot and placing a finished pancake into a plate on the warming tray. "In a way it reminds me of Cass."
"You miss her terribly." Isolda said, not a question. Liara meekly nodded. It was strange for Isolda to speak of her. It was stranger still to speak of her to Isolda. And they turned a corner and found themselves in the hallway lined with mementos of Cassandra's life and career. Liara noted that Isolda was recording, so she began explaining the history behind each item. Liara found it exhausting, fighting off tears, struggling to separate the items from the powerful emotions and memories associated with them. She stopped suddenly, Isolda no longer recording but holding her arm, her eyes full of tearful sympathy. They held another strongly, Liara embracing her like she'd embraced Cassandra so many times. Do I tell her? How do I tell her?
Sorry for the delay in publishing this, life got in the way and I had trouble with this chapter.
