The new message light was flashing as Shepard dropped herself down into her desk chair, letting out a heavy sigh as she accessed the e-mail terminal, scrolling to the top to check for unread messages. The first unread message was a spam e-mail advertising a subscription to some sort of health and fitness mag, which Shepard was quick to send to the trash before opening the second e-mail, this one from Earth Housing LLC. The message was short, but the language sounded imperative, informing Shepard that Miranda had come across some crucial information regarding her sisters, and requesting her to contact her about it as soon as she possibly could. Shepard frowned at the anxious tone of the e-mail, quickly closing out her inbox and switching instead to her vidcomm link, pulling up the origin address of the EHL e-mail and setting it to call. The screen had barely had time to display its loading call symbol before Miranda quickly picked up on the other end, her expression mixed relief and apprehension as she pulled her earcomm out, setting it quickly aside to attend to the more important conversation on her screen.
"Shepard," Miranda breathed, sounding relieved that Shepard had even taken the time to call. "I'm so glad you got my message. I was afraid you might be too busy to worry about my problem."
"Never too busy for you, Miranda," Shepard assured her, unable to help feeling a bit worried. "What's going on? You said you had some information about Oriana and Matilda?"
"Yes," Miranda answered quickly. Then, thinking a moment, she amended, "Or, well… yes and no. I have some good news and some bad news, unfortunately." Glancing over her shoulder, she took a quick look around her work station, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation, before turning to lean in closer towards the vidscreen again, folding her hands anxiously in front of her. "The good news is that Oriana came back home," she began, speaking in a low voice, just loud enough for Shepard to hear her over the vidcomm. "She only just arrived today. I offered to stay home from work to take care of her, but she insisted I not risk my job for her sake." Letting out a low huff, she looked down at her folded hands, her pristine brows furrowing in worry as the corners of her pretty mouth turned down in a troubled frown. "She's completely shaken up," she added after a moment, looking up at Shepard again, concerned. "She could hardly tell me what was wrong when she first came back. Eventually I got her to calm down enough to tell me that she and Matilda had been on one of the Homeworld Shuttles when it was intercepted by slavers. She just barely managed to escape of her own volition before they had a chance to sell her into slavery."
"Liara told me as much," Shepard agreed, nodding, her frown deepening in concentration. "Or at least, the part about the Homeworld Shuttle. She said they were intercepted in a volus system, but that there hadn't been any updates on their whereabouts since, or anyone else who had been on the Shuttle."
"Exactly," Miranda returned, solemnly, letting out a heavy, worried sigh. "The way Oriana tells it, she and several others were taken to one location, while Matilda and the rest were taken to another. She says she has no idea where they took Matilda. She tried to look for her after she got free of the slavers, but she was unable to find out where they took her and the other children."
Shepard faltered at this new information, feeling her posture tense, her hands clenching into subconscious fists on the desk in front of her at the news. "They separated the adults from the children?" she asked, unable to help a growing feeling of dread at the implication. "Why?"
"I'm not sure," Miranda answered, honestly, shaking her head. "Apparently, though, they did take some of the adults when they took the children away. Young adults, though— younger than twenty-five. Oriana says she isn't sure what their motive was for separating them, but…" Pausing again, she frowned deeper, her plush lips pursing into a taut, worried line as she shifted restlessly in her seat, clearly made uncomfortable by the feeling of helplessness brought on by her current situation. "I just don't know what to do, Shepard," she finally admitted, earnestly. "Matilda is… she's the closest thing Oriana and I might ever have to a biological daughter. Sometimes I forget she's not actually my niece. All I want is to see her happy and safe." Crossing her arms over her desk, she hesitated again, her blue gaze drifting to one side of the vidscreen as she passed her hands anxiously over her thin upper arms. "I just hope they aren't intending to do her any harm," she added, quieter, seeming almost unwilling to consider the possibility. "She's only four years old. She's still just an innocent child."
"We'll find her, Miranda," Shepard assured her, causing Miranda to look up at her again, her expression worried, as if unsure whether she could even believe the heroic sentiment. She paused a moment, considering Shepard's pledge, before finally taking a deep breath in and sitting back in her chair again, seeming to decide that if anyone could carry through with that promise, it would be Shepard.
"Thank you, Shepard," Miranda returned, her voice still quiet, trying hard to keep it from shaking with nerves. Falling silent again, she looked down at her hands folded together in her lap, chewing pensively at the inside of her cheek, before she suddenly seemed to remember something, looking up at Shepard again, her blue eyes wide with realization. "Oriana said the two groups of slavers travelled together from the Atheon Cluster to the Apien Crest, but split off when they reached the Serpent Nebula," she commented, seeming much more alert now, causing Shepard to sit up straighter in her chair as well, listening. "Her captors took the route to the Exodus Cluster on their way to the Armstrong Nebula, which is where she escaped from… but she said Matilda's captors went before hers in the Serpent Nebula relay queue, and she thought she saw them heading in the opposite direction." Pausing again, Miranda went rigid, her pretty brow furrowing in thought at this information as she worried distractedly at her plush lower lip, before she suddenly reached forward towards her holo-keypad again, starting to type something into her console.
"If they went to the Silean Nebula, the Minos Wasteland, or the Ismar Frontier, that would be their final stop," she mused, her thin fingers flying across the keypad, typing in something too fast for Shepard to make out. "There aren't any other relays out of those systems. I can put out some feelers, get an update system in place that can ping me if there's ever any reports of suspicious activity in those areas… even any activity through the Athena Nebula and the Nimbus Cluster shouldn't be too hard to track…" Stopping again, she hesitated, her hopeful expression starting to waver, before it suddenly began to fall again, her smile fading into a worried frown as she stared at her computer screen, considering something Shepard could not see. "The only downside is that if they went to the Eagle Nebula… they could be anywhere," Miranda added, gravely. "That relay connects to the Crescent Nebula, which goes to the Omega Nebula, which goes… everywhere. There's no telling where they might have ended up if they went that route."
"And the Crescent Nebula is Illium," Shepard added, worriedly, remembering too well the recent conversation she had had with Kasumi about the state of the lawless garden world.
Miranda looked up at Shepard again at this addendum, seeming even more concerned than before, as if she had not even considered the possibility of the ship being headed for Illium. Then, holding her hands up, she shook her head, waving the implication away. "I… I don't want to think about it," she said, shortly, clearly trying hard not to let the idea bury itself too deeply in her mind. "Just… keep an ear to the ground on your end, and I'll do the same on mine. I know you've got Liara there with you, so you've got more resources at your disposal than I do, so just… please, keep your eyes and ears open for any sign of Matilda." Shepard hesitated at this request, considering for a moment asking Miranda how she had found out so quickly that Liara had re-joined the crew of the Normandy, before deciding it was better not to say anything and instead offering only a supportive nod in response. "And, Shepard—" Miranda suddenly added, causing Shepard to look up again, attentive. Having said this, Miranda faltered, chewing her lip for a moment, seeming uncertain what she wanted to say next, before finally taking a sharp breath in and looking up at Shepard again, decisive. "Thank you so much for helping me with this," she told her, honestly. "I really can't tell you what it means to know I have a friend in times like these."
Shepard frowned a bit at the acknowledgment, wondering for a moment if Miranda had honestly thought there might be a possibility that she would not want to help, before quickly changing her expression and instead offering Miranda a warm, unintentionally crooked smile in response. "Of course, Miranda," she answered, frankly. "I know how much your sisters mean to you. You don't even have to ask."
"If you say so," Miranda returned, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind one ear. Then, letting her hand drop back to her desk again, she stared for a moment at her abandoned earpiece, before finally giving a soft, weary sigh and looking up at the vidscreen again. "I should probably get back to work," she said, her expression earnest, though Shepard could tell from her tone that was the last thing she wanted to do. "I've more than used up my lunch break. I'd much rather be at home with Oriana right now, of course, but…" She paused again, considering what she had been about to say, before letting out a short, bitter huff of breath and looking up at Shepard again, knowingly. "Well," she added, shortly. "I don't have to tell you about working disagreeable jobs to support the ones we care about." Rubbing her fingers anxiously together, she shook her head slowly, thoughtful for a moment, before finally reaching forward to pick up her earcomm again, clipping it over the cusp of her ear, before looking over at Shepard once more and raising her pristine brows. "Working here isn't so bad, though," she told her, trying her hardest to sound optimistic, though Shepard could not help noting something a bit manic-sounding in her forced nonchalance. "And, besides… busywork will do me some good, I figure. Get my mind off Matilda for a while, at least."
"We'll find Matilda, Miranda," Shepard assured her, leaning forward towards the vidcomm screen again, her brow furrowing intently. "You have my word."
"I believe you, Shepard," Miranda answered, quieter this time, nodding in agreement. Then, reaching towards her vidscreen console, she severed the connection, sending Shepard's screen to a bright blue splash display of the EHL logo. Shepard made a face at the logo, wondering whose job it had been to design it, before shaking her head and reaching forward to her own console, turning it off and sending the screen finally to black.
It was another few days before any more new messages arrived to the Normandy, and though three days was a short enough time in perspective, it still somehow seemed agonizingly long to Shepard, who had taken to refreshing her terminal several times a day in the hopes of an update from Miranda, Garrus, or Ereba. The lack of communication made her nervous, making her wonder if perhaps something terrible had happened to one or all of them, though she knew the odds of that happening were highly unlikely. Still, she could not help feeling as if everyone had suddenly decided to go silent on her all at once, making her suspect that there might perhaps be an issue with the Normandy's communications reception system. She had almost convinced herself to go down to engineering and ask them to check on the ship's comm status when the new message light on her terminal suddenly started flashing again, causing her to quickly drop what she had been doing to scramble across the room to check her e-mail instead. Dropping herself down into her desk chair, she anxiously opened her inbox, scrolling up to the single bolded e-mail at the top and selecting it before eagerly starting to read.
She quickly recognized the message as being one from Ereba, a forwarded listing for a search and rescue operation, one Shepard could not help noticing offered a surprising sum for what appeared to be a simple task. Scrolling down to the extended description, she frowned as she read the job specifics, wondering what part of the search and rescue warranted such a high payout. It seemed an easy enough mission: a research vessel had crash-landed on a terrestrial planet outside their scope of radio transmission, and a crew was needed to investigate the crash to see if any of the research crew had survived. Sending back a quick response that she was interested in taking the job, Shepard moved her hand over to the intercom button on her desk instead, pressing down on it before picking up her star-pattern stress ball with her free hand and starting to roll it between her fingers. "Joker, we need to head to the Nubian Expanse," she informed the pilot. "To the planet Parnack."
"Parnack, Commander?" Joker asked back, sounding confused. "Are you sure? Isn't that where those, y'know… creepy yahg things come from?"
Shepard hesitated at the question, the stress ball stilling in her palm, her other hand frozen on the intercom button as she realized that Joker was completely right. The logical reason for the job's payout being so high had been staring her in the face the entire time, but she had been so eager to take any work offered her that she had let the obvious danger go right over her head. "Yeah," she answered, trying to keep her voice even and calm as she turned her attention back to the intercom, squeezing the stress ball tightly as she swore inwardly at her own short-sightedness. "Yeah, it is. I still need you to set a course for it, though. The quicker we can get there, the better."
"Liara's gonna have a cow over this," Joker told her, sounding none too pleased with the idea of visiting the planet, himself. "You know how much she hates yahgs. …Yahg? Is it yahg or yahgs?"
"What Liara doesn't know can't hurt her," Shepard answered, ignoring his question, starting to get a bit frustrated with the back-and-forth. The longer she tried to justify taking the job, the more she regretted having accepted it so hastily, knowing full well that even the payment would hardly be worth the backlash she would be receiving from her crew about it. Either way, she knew that if Liara were to find out about the mission, she would never let Shepard hear the end of it. "Just don't mention where we're going until we actually get there," she added, hastily. "I need this job, Joker. This is the first job I've been sent in a week. I have to take it."
"If you say so, Commander," Joker conceded, still sounding less than thrilled. Then, cutting off the intercom connection again, he left Shepard to her own devices once more, letting her stew in irritated regret at the hasty decision she had made.
It took several more days for the Normandy to arrive in the vicinity of the Nubian Expanse, making Shepard worry that the time spent waiting in the relay queues might have eaten up most of the resources they needed to make it to a safe system to refuel once the job was done. Making her way up to the cockpit, she hovered anxiously over Joker's chair, trying to read the ship's gauges over his shoulder, to little success. Though she was a certified expert at reading galaxy charts and strategy maps, most of the symbols on Joker's navigational display were still a mystery to her, and she could not help but feel a bit impressed that he had memorized what all of them meant. Joker frowned a bit as he looked up, noticing Shepard standing over him, before quickly realizing what she was trying to do and taking pity on her, tapping the maintenance symbols on his navigation screen for her to more easily see the readings. "We're still doing okay, fuel-wise," he told her, pointing to one of the gauges. "Won't really have to start worrying about our fuel levels for another day or two. Hopefully by that time we'll be out of this creepy system. Either way, I'll be putting the ship in energy conservation mode while you're planetside."
"I will shut down all additional unnecessary ship functions until you return," EDI added, causing Shepard to look her way as she blinked a few times, helpfully. "If we are enterprising with our resources, we may not be forced to refuel for another two to three days."
"That's good news," Shepard returned, feeling a bit more encouraged.
"We should be arriving at Parnack in a couple hours," Joker told her, tapping the gauges to collapse them again. "I'll let you know when we're a little bit closer. Give you time to suit up and stuff."
"Appreciate it," Shepard answered, offering him a short nod of thanks, before turning to head back towards the elevator again, wanting to make one last check on her son before getting ready to head planetside.
David was already fast asleep as Shepard entered his playroom, and she bit her lip, hoping the sound of the door opening would not wake him up. Traynor sat cross-legged on the floor in a corner of the room, a digipad resting on her knees as she read quietly to herself, not wanting to disturb the sleeping child. As soon as she heard Shepard enter, however, she looked up quickly from her book, her dark eyes wide as she held a finger to her lips, indicating for total silence. "He just fell asleep," she whispered, glancing over towards the tiny corner bed. David stirred at the sound, causing both women to look over in concern, but he quickly settled back down again, nestling into his pillow and letting out a soft huff as he continued sleepily sucking his thumb. Moving as quietly as she could over to the bed, Shepard knelt down beside her son, gently prying his thumb from his mouth and tucking it safely against his chest before pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to his temple. David gave a soft yawn at her touch, but he still did not wake up from his nap, causing Shepard to let out a soundless sigh of relief as she turned away from the bed again, making her way back towards the door, hoping to make a silent exit.
"Try to keep him from sucking his thumb when he sleeps," she whispered to Traynor, causing the yeoman to look up again, listening intently to the instructions she was being given. "Having his thumb in his mouth blocks his airway. It increases his chance of suffocating in his sleep." Traynor frowned at the morbid thought, turning immediately to look back at David again, before returning her attention to Shepard once more and nodding her understanding. Then, suddenly seeming to remember something, she held up a finger, indicative, causing Shepard to turn back from the door again to hear what she had to say.
"Gardner says he may have found a recipe that would work well with David's physiology," Traynor whispered, sounding hopeful, causing Shepard's brows to raise in tentative interest. "It was a lot of trial and error, but I still thought it best to ask first – would it be all right for us to try giving him something other than formula? Gardner really thinks this recipe might work, which would be a nice change from the usual." Having said this, she paused, realizing she had said something wrong, before quickly correcting herself, "…For David, that is. I wasn't meaning to imply Gardner's recipes never work out. That wasn't my intention at all. Please don't tell him I said that."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Shepard answered, giving a soft, fond chuckle in return.
Traynor smiled sheepishly at the reassurance, glancing down at the digipad on her knees, before looking back up at Shepard again, just as hopeful as before. "Might we please try this recipe, though?" she asked again, a bit more expectant this time. "Chakwas says some variety in his diet would be good for him. Plus, I honestly believe he'd be much happier if he had something to eat other than formula once in a while. He is already three years old."
Shepard's patient smile faltered at Traynor's reasoning, before she instinctively turned to look over at her sleeping son, feeling her expression start to fall at the thought of him never being able to stomach anything other than formula. The last time she had tried to give him something solid, it had come back up almost immediately, and she had promised not to try again for a while to keep from traumatizing him. Now that she thought about it, however, she realized that that had been over a year ago, and she had simply been too busy with trying to find work to even realize how long it had been since her last attempt. It stood to reason that David's digestive system might have gotten stronger in that amount of time, but the idea of forcing him to eat something that might cause him discomfort still made her more nervous than she would have liked to admit. Turning to look back at Traynor again, she took a deep breath, folding her arms, before finally giving a sharp, brusque nod, agreeing before she could overthink and stop herself. "Sure," she answered, shortly. "When he wakes up from his nap. And I assume I'll get a full report on how he does when I get back from this mission."
"Of course, Commander," Traynor answered, dutifully, giving a quick little nod in return, before turning to look back down towards her digipad, trying hard to hide a small, relieved smile that had crept over her face at Shepard's confirmation. Shepard gave a soft breath at the sight, a small, fond smile of her own pinching at the corners of her lips, before she looked up thoughtfully at David again, uncrossing her arms from over her chest to tuck them into her hoodie pockets instead. She had worried when she had first brought David aboard that her crew members might react poorly to him, perhaps even resent him, but she had been pleasantly surprised when they had proved that they not only cared about David almost as much as she did, but also seemed to almost instinctively consider him to be part of their family. Nodding once more in satisfaction, Shepard turned away from Traynor and David, passing through the door of the playroom as quietly as she could as she headed instead towards the elevator, making her way up to her cabin to change into her armour.
Liara was already waiting in the Captain's cabin by the time Shepard arrived, and she quickly stood up from the desk chair as Shepard entered, making her pause for a moment in the doorway, wondering if there had been something important she had forgotten to do before coming up. Not remembering anything crucial, Shepard took a few more cautious steps into her cabin, waiting for the other shoe to drop, before deciding she had waited long enough and instead turning to make her way over towards her armour display cabinet, opening it up and starting to disrobe, getting ready to change into her armour. "Something you need, Liara?" she asked, unzipping her hoodie and tossing it aside at the foot of the bed, followed by her shirt. Liara hesitated at the question, staring at Shepard blankly for a moment, before finally seeming to remember why she was there and instead settling back down into the desk chair again, folding her gloved hands in front of her as she prepared to explain her presence.
"Yes," Liara answered, simply, watching as Shepard pulled off her pants, before folding them haphazardly at the foot of her bed. "I had a few questions about your projected itinerary."
"I don't really have a projected itinerary," Shepard returned, frankly, reaching for her undersuit and starting to step into it. Pulling her stiff undersuit up over her body, she gave it a firm yank, freeing up any extra movement room, before sliding both arms into the sleeves and reaching around to zip it up the back.
"That's what I know," Liara told her, her painted brows furrowing a bit at the dismissive answer. "I had wanted to ask if you might be interested in me looking for work for you. For the Normandy. I know you have a source, but I…" Pausing, she trailed off, her expression growing more worried as her blue eyes strayed to the fish tank, her lips pursing into a thin line as she tried to think of a kinder way to word her proposal. "Well… the truth is, you don't seem to be getting enough work to hold you over from one job to the next," she finally said, earnestly, causing Shepard to look up at her again, her expression flat. "If you want me to, I can check my channels to see if I can find you something supplemental. Something to give you a little extra spending money, with… a little more information attached." Looking back over at Shepard again, she hesitated, waiting for some sort of response, before finally realizing she would likely not be getting one and giving a short, helpful shrug instead. "The Citadel work board is a good place to find work if you're not picky, but… only about twenty percent of the galaxy's actual jobs get posted there," she added, sounding more confident now that the most uncomfortable part was out of the way. "A majority of work these days is handled internally. I'm only saying that I have the resources to look for available jobs that might not be sent through openly public channels."
"Like what?" Shepard asked, more polite than actually curious. Pulling her helmet from its display, she turned it over in her hands, making sure no before-unnoticed damage existed that might compromise her upcoming mission. Then, satisfied her helmet was in working order, she set it aside on her bedding, still not looking over at Liara as she began to remove the rest of her armour from the locker, setting it down neatly on her bed as she prepared to change into it for the mission.
"Well, for example… there have been reports of a TMX trade ring on Lorek," Liara began, sliding her hand into her belt pouch to produce her portable datapad. Tapping the screen, she pulled something up from her databank, before quickly dragging the image out of the tiny frame to transfer it to the much larger display of Shepard's desk holo-screen instead. The displayed image was of a minimalistic map of the galaxy, with several of the systems circled in white and little notes in Liara's handwriting next to each one. Shepard frowned up at the display, certain that Liara had been waiting for an opportunity to do that since her arrival, before returning her attention to her armour again, already dreading where the deceptively friendly conversation was going to lead. "It's taken a while for anyone to find it, so the assumption is that it's either very small, or very expertly cloaked," Liara went on, skilfully ignoring Shepard's dour reaction to her diagram. "There have also been rumours about a slave trafficking ring that has sprung up in the Minos Wasteland area in the last year or so. Nobody knows much of anything about it, so nobody knows how true the rumours are, but…"
Trailing off, Liara paused, realizing that the mention of this mission had gotten Shepard's full attention at last. Shepard frowned up at the holo-screen, holding her spine-guard absentmindedly between her hands, seeming to have forgotten about the piece of armour entirely. The Minos Wasteland had been one of the places Miranda had mentioned as a possible destination for the slavers who had taken Matilda, but Shepard knew the chances of Matilda's slavers being the same as Liara's were almost slim to none. With the economy being as bad as it was, she knew that slave trafficking was most likely on the rise, which meant that even hoping that these traffickers might be the ones who had taken Matilda felt foolish and overly optimistic. "I can try to look a little further into that for you," Liara offered, pulling Shepard back to earth suddenly, interrupting her train of thought. "Perhaps, if you like, we could even substitute that mission for this on—"
"No thanks," Shepard answered, curtly, cutting Liara off short. Then, moving over to the intercom button beside her armour cabinet, she pressed it, waiting for the familiar cockpit sounds on the other end to let her know Joker was listening. "Joker, tell Vega and Rahma to suit up and meet me in the hangar," she instructed the pilot, bluntly. "And tell them to bring extra ammo. We're gonna need all the help we can get."
A moment of silence followed these instructions, as if Joker were trying to decide whether he had heard her request correctly. "Uhh… Rahma, Commander?" he finally asked, hoping for clarification.
"Yes," Shepard answered, shortly. "And Vega. Can you think of anyone else better to take with me to Parnack?" At the name of the planet, she quickly turned to look over towards Liara, and was unsurprised when the asari did not even react, instead staring distractedly up at her holo-map as she rocked thoughtfully side to side in the desk chair. Shepard had suspected that Liara had figured out their destination long before coming up to her cabin, and this only proved to confirm that, as well as explaining why she had been so eager to try to replace the current mission with something she knew would pique Shepard's interest. Turning back to the intercom again, Shepard waited for an answer from Joker, wondering if it would even be worth the effort to bother calling Liara out on her transparency.
"I'll let them know, Commander," Joker confirmed, before disconnecting the intercom again, leaving Shepard and Liara alone in uncomfortable privacy once more.
Turning away from the now-dead intercom, Shepard instantly looked up at Liara at the desk, not even bothering to hide her disappointed, knowing frown as she turned to face her friend. "You knew already," she told her, frankly, causing Liara to look up quickly from the holo-map, her painted brows raising faintly in surprise.
"Knew what?" Liara asked, innocently.
"You knew we were going to Parnack," Shepard answered, bluntly, not in the mood to play.
Liara shrugged at the accusation, unconcerned, before reaching to pick up her tiny datapad from the desk, holding it up to the much larger display and retracting the digital image back into the portable pad again. "Of course I knew," she answered, not even bothering to be evasive about it anymore. "I figured it out a while ago. I wouldn't be a very good information broker if I couldn't figure out something as simple as our destination."
Shepard hesitated at the frank response, realizing that Liara was right, before shaking her head and looking back down at her armour again, picking up the first piece and holding it up to inspect it. "I figured you wouldn't want to know," she admitted, honestly, her voice lower this time.
"You figured I'd react poorly if I knew," Liara corrected her, looking down at her from the desk, austerely. "I'm not a child, Shepard. I can handle being told things. Even things I might not like."
"Hm," Shepard answered, shortly, pulling the spine-guard around her back, before securing it firmly into place with the strap around her front.
A silence followed this uncomfortable exchange, with neither woman seeming to know what to say. Then, finally, Liara gently cleared her throat, getting Shepard's attention again, causing her to look up from her armour once more. "You didn't have to take this mission, you know," Liara told her, candidly. "I could have gotten you another mission. A better mission."
"We're here now, Liara," Shepard answered, picking up her abdominal guard and pressing it flat against her stomach, making sure it was positioned correctly to protect her internal organs. "Might as well take it."
"That's like saying that you've been given poison, so you might as well drink it," Liara answered, sharply.
Shepard looked up at the comparison, raising a brow, waiting to see how long it took Liara to recognize the time-tested flaw in her logic. For as long as Liara had known her, Shepard had never turned down a free drink, even when she was warned ahead of time that it might in fact do her harm, and she could not help a small, wry smirk from curling the corners of her lips as she waited for Liara to remember this fact. "Have you met me, Liara?" she finally asked, darkly amused, looking back down at her armour again.
Liara pursed her lips at the quip, disapproving, before letting out a short, disgruntled huff of breath and dropping her gaze to the desk again, tracing her finger around the edge of the holo-keyboard as she tried to think of an appropriate response. "Well… we'll just agree to disagree, I suppose," she finally answered, clearly seeming to realize that no matter what argument she made, she would not be getting through Shepard's stubbornness anytime soon.
Shepard nodded in response, unconcerned, pulling the abdominal guard strap around her waist as securely as she could, before giving the layered plate a few good raps, making sure it was sturdy and sound. "It's a simple enough job," she commented, picking up her hip-guard and starting to step into it, sliding it up over the base of her abdominal plate and locking them securely against one another. "Just go in, investigate a downed ship, and get out. If there are survivors, we take them with us. If not, we can just leave. No incident." Holding her thigh-guard against her leg, she tightened the strap holding it in place, making sure the front and back plates lined up and that both were securely fastened. "I figure if the yahg are the scariest things on the planet, we're pretty much set," she added, checking to make sure the movement pins on both sides of her hips were aligned correctly. "We've faced off with one of them before." Pausing then, she stopped, considering, before amending herself, "…Well, you and I have. Vega and Rahma haven't, but… I have. So I know what I'm up against."
"Except that you don't," Liara returned, still unconvinced, her painted brows furrowing deeper at Shepard's flippant attitude. "These aren't like the yahg we faced before, Shepard. They're uncivilized. Brutal, savage creatures." Gripping the armrests of the desk chair, she watched as Shepard continued dressing, seeming to be completely ignoring the warnings Liara was giving her. "The one we faced off against was educated – uplifted," she added, matter-of-factly. "Most yahg aren't even enlightened enough to be classified as spaceflight species."
"The yahg aren't mindless brutes, Liara," Shepard contended, frowning as she reached for her armoured gloves, pulling them on and flexing her fingers to make sure she could move them efficiently. "You've read the reports, I know you have. The yahg had tech equivalent to twentieth-century Earth tech back when they were first discovered by the Council. It's been at least sixty years since then, so they've probably advanced at least a bit by now." Tightening the straps on her forearm guards, she gave them each a hard shake, making sure they would not come loose, before moving on to pick up her calf-guards from the bed instead, starting to lock them into place. Liara huffed at the argument, folding her gloved hands over her stomach, her elbows still resting rigidly against the armrests as she watched Shepard continue dressing.
"Twentieth century Earth tech barely covers the discovery of electricity, Shepard," Liara argued, watching as Shepard sat down on the bed, starting to slide one of her hefty armoured boots on. "Your species was so busy inventing the atomic bomb in an effort to destroy one another that they hardly had time to worry about advancements in actually beneficial scientific fields."
"That's not entirely true," Shepard answered, securing her armoured boot against the hinging-pins of her calf-guard. "In the twentieth century we discovered quantum theory, completed the first successful cloning trial—"
"And fought both World War One and World War Two," Liara returned, just as quickly. "And that was just within the span of twenty years of human conflict. How do you think that will compare to a society of yahg?"
Finishing securing her boot in place, Shepard let out a deep, harried sigh, leaning her elbows on her knees as she looked over at Liara, exasperated. "Not everyone can be the Protheans, Liara," she reminded her, frankly.
Liara bristled at the implication, her plum lips pursing into a thin, stubborn line as a faint purple blush rushed up into her cheeks, but she quickly pushed it back down again, refusing to be embarrassed. "That's not what I was implying, Shepard," she answered, her tone pointedly quieter this time. Turning to look over Shepard's desk, she spotted the starry stress ball, reaching over to it and beginning to roll it distractedly around on the desk with two fingers. Her brow was still furrowed as she thought, refusing to look at Shepard as she continued to don her armour, trying to think of a reasonable argument that might change Shepard's mind about visiting Parnack. The stress ball's spongy form was so worn down that cracks had started to appear throughout the patterned exterior, looking like rips in the fabric of space itself, making it clear that the ball had been used over the past six years with almost distressing frequency. "You have a three-year-old son," Liara suddenly reminded her, looking up at Shepard again, causing her to pause in donning her second boot to return the look, affronted. "He needs his mother. You have no guarantee that this mission will be a success."
"I have a three-year-old son who has to eat, Liara," Shepard answered, sharply, starting to get annoyed with Liara's arguments. "And a ship full of people depending on me to provide for them. Food, shelter, defences, ship maintenance… how am I supposed to pay for that if I only take the jobs that appeal to me?" Leaning down to her boot again, she clicked the hinging pins in place, making sure they were securely locked before standing up again, finished outfitting her lower extremities. Picking up her upper-arm guard, she held it in place, pulling the second piece around before securing them together and tightening the strap, making sure the armour stayed put as she reached for the elbow guard next. "Just because it's dangerous doesn't mean I'm going to fail this mission," she added, bending her arm a few times to make sure she could still move it freely. "Whatever happened to your faith in me, Liara? You've known me longer than anyone. I'm the same person I always was. That much hasn't changed."
"But it should, Shepard," Liara returned, exasperated, picking up the stress ball and squeezing it. "You claim to be being more careful for David's sake, but what have you really done? Turned down one job with a zero percent success rate only to take every other perilous contract sent your way?"
"What am I supposed to do, Liara?" Shepard shot back, now entirely fed up with the conversation, turning to face Liara with her hands planted indignantly on her hips. "I can't please everyone. I tried once, I tried to be that person once, and I… I can't…" Gritting her teeth, she took a deep breath, clenching her hands at her sides, before letting out her breath in a long, low exhale, allowing her hands to open again, forcing herself to be calm as she sat back down on the bed, reaching for her second upper-arm guard and starting to equip it. "I can't live like that," she said, her voice much more even, shaking her head as she pulled the arm-guard straps into place. "My mother raised me as a single mother. If I can't even provide for my son the same way she provided for me, it's… it's an insult to her. It's an insult to her mothering. She raised me better than that. She raised me with a sense of responsibility, to take care of my own, and if…" Trailing off again, she shook her head once more, securing her second elbow guard before flexing her arm to ensure she could move it. "I have to take care of my son and my crew, Liara," she said, turning to look at Liara across the room again and resting her hands on her knees. "This is the only way I know how. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let some bug-eyed alien land shark keep me from coming back to David. I'll be damned."
"Commander, we're coming up on Parnack," Joker's voice suddenly came through over the intercom, causing both Shepard and Liara to look up at the sound, surprised. "Vega and Rahma are waiting for you down in the hangar."
"Thanks, Joker," Shepard returned, shortly. "Tell Cortez I'll be right down." Letting out a weary sigh, she turned back to her bed again, picking up her breastplate and sliding it on over her shoulders before settling it securely over her abdominal and spinal guards, tightening the straps around her ribcage to ensure the armour was snug enough. Once done positioning the plate, she locked the front and back parts of the armour together, forming one solid piece, before twisting a bit from side to side, making sure she could still move freely. "I am interested in the jobs you mentioned, Liara," she finally spoke up again, reaching for her neck protector, causing Liara to look up in surprise at this unexpected statement. "Both of them. Though now I'm not sure if they were actually real, or if you were just trying to get me to ditch this mission."
"Of course they're real," Liara answered quickly, sitting up straighter in the desk chair, unable to help sounding a bit affronted at Shepard's suspicion. "I wouldn't attempt to pull you out of a credit-earning mission unless I had something to offer with just as much of a payout." Stopping herself then, she took a deep breath, regaining some of her lost composure, before sitting back in the chair again and shaking her head, folding her hands one on top of the other in her lap as she looked up at Shepard, intent. "I'm not going to sabotage you, Shepard," she told her, fairly. "Even if I don't always like what you're doing. I want to help."
"You can start by not questioning my judgement," Shepard told her, frankly, securing the neck-guard around her throat. "I didn't come this far just to get taken out on a search and rescue." Sliding two fingers under her neck-guard to ensure she had enough room to breathe, Shepard gave a short noise of confirmation, more to herself than to Liara, before turning to pick up her helmet from the bed again and tucking it under her arm, ready to go. "I'll be back in a couple hours," she stated, matter-of-factly. "Make sure David doesn't get into too much trouble while I'm gone. I want to hear a good report when I get back."
"That won't be difficult," Liara returned, trying hard to sound optimistic, offering Shepard a thin, forced smile in response. "David is always good."