Chapter Twenty

Shit, Vomit, and Toenail Clippings

SSV Normandy SR-2

Ashley barely felt guilty as the ashen faced Yeoman disappeared from view, ostensibly to carry out her demand that she fetch Fleet Admiral Kessler immediately. Having been on the receiving end of bullying from superiors all too often, it was not Ash's style to employ the same tactic now that she was near the top of the command structure. In the wake of what she had discovered on Horizon, one disgruntled Yeoman was a minor concern. As she waited for the Admiral to make an appearance, she alternated between various stances – gripping the console with both hands, folding her arms firmly across her chest, and clasping them behind her back. She settled for the latter, hoping to at least maintain an air of professionalism even if Kessler did balk at her demanding summons.

By the time a representation of the man himself formed into view in front of her, Ashley had managed to compose herself. She had expected Kessler's face to be contorted with rage, or at the very least pursed with disapproval, but the man was smiling at her!

"Captain Williams, I hear the Normandy paid a visit to Horizon to greet the surviving colonists? The story aired on ANN last evening – brilliant work, simply brilliant," he said, his voice had a booming quality to it over the QEC. "We had planned for their integration to happen under more controlled circumstances, but I think having humanity's only Spectre fortuitously present more than made up for it."

With each successive word, Ashley felt like she was being buffeted by forces from both sides. As she struggled to comprehend what Kessler was saying, she felt varying degrees of anger, frustration, and confusion. To make matters worse, she thought of so many responses and questions that she could not force one word out of her mouth.

"It was slightly sticky that your information source was outside of the Alliance, but that was easily glossed over for civilian digestion," Kessler continued smoothly. "With the colony now poised for resettlement, there are plans to rename the capital 'Shepard.' A fitting tribute, don't you agree? The crew of the Normandy will be present at the dedication ceremony of course, newly paved streets named after serving crewmembers."

Shepard hated Horizon, was the first though that emerged clearly in the chaos of Ashley's mind. "Sir…with all due respect…" Ashley fumbled for something to say. "Captain?"

"A well-deserved promotion, Williams," Kessler replied quickly. "We've rolled out the Horizon PR campaign complete with your new rank." He simply beamed at her for several moments, appearing extremely self-satisfied.

"Sir-"

"If I might be frank, however Captain Williams," Kessler interrupted as his smile disappeared behind a stern frown. "It would be best if someone in your position of influence did not appear to be so readily influenced by aliens. Humanity must take care in this new world to distance ourselves from external pressures, especially those of the Council."

Ashley felt bile rise in her throat. She clenched her teeth and fought it down as she struggled to find a decent reply to Kessler's barely concealed vitriol. I'm going to regret this, she thought, clenching her fists against her sides. But this isn't what I joined up for. "I'm a Council SPecTRe, sir, those 'external pressures' you refer to are my job-"

Kessler's eyes bulged. "You might want to reconsider your words, Captain-"

"As a matter of fact-" Ashley interrupted, squaring her shoulders "-I do want to reconsider. If I might be frank, I call bullshit on the whole Horizon fiasco. There were no plans in place to release those colonists, or even to simply let their families know that they were still alive. Had I not been informed by the Council, they would still be there now – rotting in their cells. Of course none of this gets out because your so-called news outlets don't know the meaning of the word truth." Ashley paused – torn between enjoying the vibrant shade of red on Kessler's face and questioning her own sanity. "I'm going to keep quiet on the condition that you let the Normandy and her crew do their job from now on."

"Am I to understand that you're blackmailing the Fleet Admiral?" Kessler demanded incredulously.

Ashley couldn't quite believe it herself. She folded her arms across her chest to keep them from shaking and hoped she projected an unyielding stance. "Blackmail? If you want to call it that, I'm just trying to do my job amidst the political clusterfuck in this Galaxy. From now on, the Normandy's missions will be dictated by my duties as a SPecTRe, not pissing around making PR appearances and shoring up support for the Alliance. Is that understood, sir?"

"Williams, you're out of your depth trying to play this game," Kessler replied in a low, dangerous tone.

"Then I'll stick to doing what I know best," Ashley said firmly. "Being a soldier. Is that all, sir?"

"Dismissed, Captain." Kessler had to force the words out through his clenched teeth. "Although this conversation is not over."

Kessler's image winked out emphatically – almost like slamming a historical telephone down in someone's ear. Desperate to escape the stuffy confines of the comms room, Ashley turned and fled the scene, stumbling out into the War Room. The slightly more open space did not provide the release she was looking for. Ashley felt light-headed, it was the only warning she had before the room spun violently and she felt herself fall. Pitching forward onto her hands and knees, Ash's stomach gave a violent heave. Mercifully, having not eaten all day, nothing emerged. As she crouched on the floor, she became aware of footsteps rushing toward her and was overtaken by embarrassment. Even as she tried to drag herself to her feet under her own steam, she felt a firm grip beneath her armpit assisting her.

"I'm fine," Ashley murmured before she could see who had helped her. She didn't sound fine. It sounded as though her words were muffled, or even being spoken by someone else.

With a concentrated effort, she glanced upward to find Leon Grenier staring at her with a clearly concerned expression. When Ashley saw her XO's eyes widen and his lips part in shock, she realised just how awful she must have looked. Slipping quickly into damage control mode, Ashley discreetly tugged her arm out of Grenier's grip and straightened to her full height. Her pose was almost robotic, but holding her shoulders square and her back ramrod straight was the only way Ashley could remain upright.

"Commander…when was the last time you slept?" the XO asked carefully – already guarding himself against an irritated backlash.

"It's Captain," Ashley corrected him – her tone jaded as she reminded herself just how surreal the whole encounter had been. "Apparently promotions are the new court martials."

Grenier frowned. "Um…ma'am, you wanted a report when the civilian transfers were complete. If you'd rather we saved this until you've seen Dr Chakwas-"

"Don't start with me, LC," Ashley snapped, her irritation surging to the forefront in almost record time. Having Dr Chakwas temporarily relieve her of command was the last thing she needed. She held out her hand expectantly. "I'll take that report and review it in my quarters."

The XO handed the datapad over with exaggerated reluctance. "Yes, ma'am."

Ashley sighed, forcing herself to slow down rather than rip the pad brutishly from his grasp. The last thing she needed was to lose the respect of her crew. Although they were barely two weeks into their first stint together, Grenier had already proven himself to be a capable XO. His meticulous attention to detail and apparently effortless rapport with the crew complemented Ash's own brusque, impatient style. Although she had yet to see him in action, she was no longer assessing whether his credentials were impressive enough to keep him on-board. However, liking the guy and sharing her private fears with him were two entirely different things.

"Good work, LC. I'll hit my rack after reading this, you've got the ship," Ashley informed him.

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Grenier nodded. "I take it you'd rather not see Dr Chakwas?"

"I'd rather not," Ashley replied, even managing a weak, conspiratorial grin. "I'm prescribing myself chow and rack time – they'll do wonders."

Chow consisted of a protein bar and a glass of water – all that was on offer with the limited supplies she kept in the Crow's Nest. Heading to the Mess would necessitate a procession through the ship, pausing to talk to her crew. After her stilted conversation with Grenier, she didn't want to face the prospect of creating rumours that the Captain's sanity was unravelling.

As Ashley sagged on the edge of her bed, elbows resting on her knees and a half-chewed lump of food sitting in her mouth, an absolute sense of disillusionment settled over her. Although she was disturbed to know that the Alliance had been contentedly keeping those on Horizon a secret, this was nothing compared to the manner in which Kessler had so neatly swept it all under the rug as soon as it was exposed. Although it was the one ace up her sleeve, Ashley doubted whether her threat to go public actually carried weight. Although she refused to acknowledge her own fame, it nevertheless did exist. Even as a famous war hero, she could not see herself standing toe to toe with the Alliance and emerging unscathed on the other side. It was more likely that she would not emerge at all.

I'm a damn marine, Ashley thought to herself as she tossed the wrapper of her meal onto the floor. I do my job, follow orders, and leave the political crap to others. However, in continuing to follow orders, Ashley was now convinced that she was not doing the job she had signed on for. On one level, her instincts were screaming at her to run, but at the same time she could not bring herself to back down – especially not after issuing such a strong challenge to Kessler.

Feeling usually isolated, Ashley forced herself to stand up even though all she wanted to do was flop onto her back and fall asleep. She made her way past Shepard's model collection, her gaze panning over the miniatures out of habit. Her terminal winked into life at her touch and she keyed in the necessary commands to record a message via an encrypted channel. A loud exhale escaped her lips before she started in an effort to clear at least some of the stress from her voice.

"Hey, M. Not sure where you'll be when you get this – hopefully they've at least got hot running water. I know how grumpy you get when you can't have a shower." Ash almost had to suppress a chuckle as she imagined Miranda pout upon listening to the message. It was a brief moment of levity. "Access to some form of comms would be good, you know…so you can tell your better half where the hell you are-" Ashley cut her bitter tone short. She had managed twenty seconds of positivity before letting her mood overtake her. Although the last thing she wanted to do was send Miranda a miserable message, she couldn't bring herself to inject any sort of optimism into her tone. "I guess there's going to be a lot to fill each other in on – new crew members on the Normandy, most are shaping up to be pretty decent I suppose – my XO in particular. We made an unscheduled trip to Horizon which…well, it's not a place we'll ever go for a holiday. The Alliance…I found…shit, I just can't go into more detail right now other than to say it was hell, M, pure hell…and without even a damn shot being fired." Ashley drew in a ragged, shaking breath. She had the awful suspicion that if Miranda suddenly turned up at the door to the Crow's Nest, she'd collapse into a sobbing mess. She desperately need to hear the twang in her lover's voice, see the vibrant blue of her eyes, and feel the strength in her embrace. As it was, she had nothing other than her own fears. "I wasn't even going to mention this…but I think I've done something incredibly stupid. I may have fucked up completely…I don't know, I was always crap at political stuff. I need your advice, Miranda. Send me a message when you can and we'll…talk. I miss you-" Ash's throat went dry. Her emotional state felt all the more ridiculous when she reminded herself that she had been with Miranda just several weeks earlier. She had to take a deep gulp of water before she could finish. "I love you."

Omega, Sahrabarik

"I don't need to remind you that Aria is Omega," Shepard said in an almost petulant tone. It didn't help her mood that she was lying on her back on the cool floor beneath half a dozen feed monitors. Although each was bolted to a supporting frame, she didn't trust the construct – mainly because she had done most of the work herself. Destruction, not construction, was her speciality. "It's one thing running the Shadow Broker's operations out of Hagalaz or the Normandy but to run it out of Omega? Li, I know how incredibly smart you are, surely you can see the problem here?"

Shepard stopped trying to force a thick cable into its slot and peered up at her bondmate. With a console in between them, she could only see a sliver of Liara's face – however she could see enough to know that her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed in disapproval.

"I am incredibly smart, Evan," Liara replied tersely. "Obviously much smarter than you give me credit for-"

"And modest," Shepard muttered under her breath, resuming her task.

"-and I assure you that Aria will remain none the wiser as to the nature of my operation. Besides, only half the network will be controlled from Omega at any one time. A hub on Earth will be assisting with day-to-day communication and rebuilding the network to optimal capacity."

A low growl escaped Shepard's throat as she struggled with her task. She felt a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, formed by Omega's balmy internal temperature and her exertion. "And who the hell do you trust enough to have so much responsibility?" Shepard was not angry at Liara, just frustrated, but it emerged in her tone.

"Your mother," Liara replied calmly. The asari frowned and continued, "The system is still offline. Just what are you doing down there?"

"My mother?" Shepard had stopped working again. Although she had heard the following question, she ignored it. "Since when are you in touch with my moth-" Belatedly realising that she had sworn not to call Hannah by that title ever again, she cut herself short. Abandoning her task altogether, she sat up. Her forehead caught the side of the console with a firm thud. " Fuck!" she snapped, scrubbing her palm against the throbbing. Meanwhile Liara was observing her with an inappropriately serene expression on her face as though there was nothing untoward about the fact that she had been in contact with Hannah Shepard. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I clearly heard you say that you did not want to have anything to do with her," Liara pointed out.

"But you're working with her!" Shepard replied, as though that completely negated her previous statement.

"And Mr Macklin," Liara added. "Surprisingly, they work extremely well together."

There was an undercurrent in Liara's tone that Shepard did not appreciate in the slightest. She immediately recognised the slight flush to her bondmate's cheeks for what it was. Even though she had experience of a physical relationship, Liara still found it embarrassing to talk about a sex life other than her own. The fact that she was insinuating that Hannah was involved with Pericles Macklin left Shepard feeling decidedly disconcerted. She had never had to face the fact that Hannah might have a sex life because there had never been anything to discuss. Or if there had been she kept it well concealed from her daughter. Shepard only had vague memories of meeting Mack – his gruff, chiselled exterior and lewd sense of humour did not paint a picture of a man she expected Hannah to be attracted to. Then again, just how well did she really know Hannah Shepard? For her own sake, she decided to remain silent on the topic.

"Evan?" Liara interrupted her thought process. One of her 'eyebrow' markings was arched. "The cable?"

"It won't fit," Shepard explained helplessly.

Liara snorted impatiently and gestured for her to move aside. Shepard eased her stiff body back into a standing position while Liara took her place. As she stretched gratefully, it felt as though every muscle in her body was protesting. Although her rigorous workout regime had begun to restore her body, it also left her aching as she adjusted to the increased physical activity. Each day was slightly easier, she could push herself farther and feel less pain.

Liara let out an irritated grunt. Shepard couldn't see most of her upper half, but watched as she shifted and appeared to be levering something into place. A few moments later, the feeds began to whirr and chirp with eager, relentless activity.

"It would have helped if you were trying to put the cable in the appropriate slot," Liara chided her as she emerged.

Shepard held out her hand, helping to tug Liara to her feet in one swift movement. They came eye to eye. There was a playful twinkle in Liara's gaze as Shepard accepted her own laughable mistake. All that effort, and it had been the wrong damn hole. Her wounded pride did not let her make the crude comment that was on the tip of her tongue. However it was slightly assuaged when Liara nuzzled lightly at her neck, breathing rapidly from the effort of hauling the heavy cable about on the floor.

"You're usually exceptionally good at finding the correct slot," Liara murmured softly, between depositing gentle kisses on Shepard's warm skin.

Woah. Shepard's eyes opened wide in surprise when she realised that her bondmate had beaten her to the punch line. A surprised chuckle burst from her lips, remaining on her face as a contented grin when she realised, in that moment, that she was undeniably happy. "We were bickering," Shepard commented contentedly. "Like an old married couple."

Liara drew back slightly. A frown marred her otherwise perfect brow. "I do not understand. How is it good to be bickering like an old married couple?" The frown deepened. "What does that even mean?"

"It means, Liara T'Soni, that it feels as though we've been together forever," Shepard tried to explain.

"Forever? Are you trying to tell me you're bored of me?" Liara demanded.

"Oh god…no!" Shepard shook her head quickly, realising that she was terrible at explanations. She reached out and cupped Liara's chin with the warm palm of her right hand. "I'm comfortable with you, Liara. We're comfortable together. And most importantly, we've got the time to bicker about absolutely nothing! We can bicker all day if we want to," Shepard suggested playfully.

"Speak for yourself!" Liara chided her gently, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder where each of the newly restored feeds was already demanding her immediate attention. She sighed reluctantly.

"You're terribly cute when you're irritated," Shepard replied, drawing Liara in close against her body to enjoy the warmth and solidity it offered. The simple embrace felt wonderful. In that moment, she did not want to be anywhere else. "In fact, you're…"

Her voice trailed off when she felt Liara's body start to undulate against her own insistently with a raw, clearly primal, intent. As her body responded predictably to the ministrations, Shepard's own responses followed. Her movements began to complement Liara's. They moved in tandem, their hips rocking together to create a tender friction. It was subtle, almost safe, at first. For several moments, Shepard comfortably basked in the warmth and the simplicity of just being happy.

Everything changed when she felt the heat between her legs flare into a desperate hunger. The subtle warmth became a raging inferno. Her happiness was smothered by an all-consuming lust. When their lips finally met, Shepard was only seconds away from forcing her hand beneath the band of Liara's army-issue sweatpants. Warning lights flashed at the same time that Liara drew away gently, leaving them both breathing heavily, Shepard more so. As she started at the warm smile on Liara's lips, she realised that the images playing behind her eyes were not of mutual passion, but ones where she simply took what she wanted. She had been so ready to throw Liara up against any hard surface and take her with the intensity that she craved – just like the monster that she had suspected herself to be. Even as Shepard tried to remind herself that the picture that Naomi Stone had tried to make her believe was not real – had never been real - she still felt sick to her stomach. It was the first real intimacy that they had shared since their reunion and she was having difficulty laying the trauma of the previous month to rest. Something that should have been beautiful and effortless had been ruined.

"Hmmm," Liara murmured playfully. Uncharacteristically, her own contented state of mind made blissfully unaware that anything was wrong. "I would love to continue what we have started, but with the feeds just coming back online I fear my attention is needed here."

"Yeah, I understand," Shepard replied quickly – a little too quickly perhaps.

Liara frowned. "Is everything alright? The feeds could possibly wait…but I was hoping to have as much time as possible-"

"No, it's fine!" Too quickly again. Shepard forced what she hoped was a relaxed grin onto her face. "The Shadow Broker has work to do, I don't want a diplomatic incident or a small-scale war resting on my head."

Liara pursed her lips in disapproval. "You know that is not funny, Evan," she chided. "Still, I am looking forward to spending some time alone with you…later. Maybe there will actually be candles."

Shepard couldn't flee the room fast enough. A suggestion that would have ordinarily elicited a playful response from her left her feeling clammy and nauseous. She spent several anxious minutes pacing the length of their living room before deciding that she needed a walk. The deeper that Liara delved into her work, the longer she would remain there. While Shepard had grown unaccustomed to avoiding Liara, it was her only solution.

Or you could, you know, actually talk to her, Shepard's subconscious reminded her in a snarky tone. It was solid advice. It was the only advice. While she did resolve to at least try, she wanted to clear her head first. Rather than resort to working out – she'd already pushed her body that morning – Shepard tugged on her gloves, grabbed a hooded jacket and left the apartment.

Over the previous two weeks Shepard had expanded on her familiarity with Omega, coming to know both the Yakai District where their apartment was located and the Tuhi Commercial District well enough to navigate without getting lost. Shepard found that she could stay completely inconspicuous whilst remaining in the shadows and on the fringes of Omegan society. With her hood drawn down low over her face, she looked like every other human on Omega. Much to Liara's disgust, she'd been 'shopping' at one of the second-hand market stalls. The leather pants fitted her like a second skin, but the scuffed jacket had seen better days. No one recognised the slender human with long dark hair and wearing old leather clothing as being the former Commander Shepard.

Or 'The Shepard' as I'm known now. Shepard snorted. It was a fucking ridiculous title that she'd done nothing to earn. All I did was my job. How many other soldiers sacrificed themselves to stop the Reapers? With Liara's network still in the throes of being re-established, they had remained very much in the dark about affairs in Earth Alliance Space and any fallout from her escape. Omega's independence and autonomous existence meant that no one really cared what was happening on Earth. In a way, while the lack of knowledge frustrated Liara, Shepard found invigorating. At time she would chide herself for hiding away from her former life, it felt very much like she had run away and simply left her friends to fight their own battles. Other than the very small circle of individuals who had rescued her, no one knew she was alive. Ash, who was rightfully at the helm of the Normandy. It still surprised and amused her that the wartime romance she started with Miranda was still going. Sam Traynor – nervous, almost bubbling at times, but so efficient and capable. Garrus and Wrex, who both felt like her (very) strange brothers. Was Tali living on Rannoch with her people? And EDI – the fact that she had abandoned the AI's body in Alberta still haunted her. All were friends, living their lives without her. She desperately missed them all.

Regrets were one thing, but Shepard had since discovered that she was exceptionally good at pushing things to the back of her mind. It did not mean that she didn't care about her friends, just that she was accepting that she wasn't in a position to help. Besides, when did everything have to revolve around me? They've managed without me for almost a year. Amongst the many thoughts at the back of her mind was the niggling suspicion that she would eventually be forced to show herself, but now was not that time – nor, hopefully, anytime in the foreseeable future. If that was selfish then Shepard didn't give a fuck.

The Tuhi District was only quietly bustling. While the time of day held almost no meaning in Omega – as business simply never stopped – there was a natural ebb and flow that led to quieter periods. At all times there was the same patina. It was a combination of odours, textures and sounds that were uniquely 'Omega.' Almost all were individually unpleasant, but combined together they were simply familiar. The acidic, dirty taint to the air that often left the insides of her nostrils black, the constant whine of machinery, and the rust that seemed to coat every surface – as though Omega was an ancient, neglected cruise liner.

"Hey, Evan."

Shepard had stopped groaning at the now familiar greeting when she accepted that there was nothing she could do. It just happened that the one person on Omega who had recognised her was the one person, other than Liara, who always seemed to know where she was. Shepard picked Mycea Kasos out quickly. The young asari was leaning nonchalantly against a wall, her own hoodie drawn up over her head in an imitation of Shepard's. Her head crests meant that she couldn't pull it off in the same way and it hid none of her face. Her grin was as plain as day.

"How's things?" Shepard nodded her greeting. Her acceptance of Myke's presence also came about when she realised that she was only marginally annoying. In fact, Shepard enjoyed her undemanding company. All Myke had initially wanted was to simply be allowed to hang out with her. Shepard just wanted to be. Both had needed a friend.

Myke shrugged in response to the question. "Same shit, different day." It was a phrase she'd quickly picked up from Shepard. It sounded ridiculous coming from someone who, as far as Shepard could tell, didn't have a job. "You?"

"Pretty much the same." Shepard had not told her about Liara. Although she clearly indicated that she wasn't alone on Omega, Myke never probed. The only information she begged for were old war stories.

When Shepard continued walking, Myke fell into step beside her. They walked in companionable silence, both browsing the market stalls casually, without any intention of actually buying anything. It wasn't until they came to what passed for Omega's 'food quarter' that Myke's interested was piqued. When she caught her staring, Shepard realised that she had never really noticed how gaunt the asari was. She was rake thin beneath her clothes and her cheeks had a hollow cast to them.

"I'm actually kind of hungry." Shepard was nothing of the sort. The abnormally large meals that Liara insisted she eat in an effort to gain weight left her feeling constantly full. "I hate to be a pain in the arse, but do you mind if we grab something to eat?"

Although the food smelled mouth-watering and probably tasted great, the street vendors on Omega were not known for adhering to anything resembling a hygiene code. She paused by a stand where a wary looking human was selling something which resembled an old fashioned burger served between two pieces of flatbread. There were no vegetables on offer and the meat was marketing as simply 'meat', but Shepard glanced across to her companion and saw her unconsciously lick her lips.

"Yeah, whatever." Mycea shrugged. "I've got some time to kill." The asari stepped lazily toward the stall as though she had somewhere better to be. The vendor was waiting expectantly as she perused the limited menu. "Give me a deluxe with everything…and extra peppers, and don't hold back on the hot sauce either. And I'll have a side of-" She paused and turned to look at Shepard expectantly. "You are paying for this, right?"

Shepard had to stifle a grin. "Yeah, I'm paying."

A few minutes later, Shepard gingerly took a small nibble of her own much smaller meal. While she couldn't quite get herself to forget the unknown source of the meat, it was pleasant enough for her to be able to swallow a mouthful. It was hardly necessary, Mycea wasn't paying any attention to her pretence. The asari was blithely perched on one of the wide-topped balustrades that overlooked a precipitous drop into the levels further down. Her earlier nonchalance had given way to unbridled enthusiasm as she somehow managed to wrap her mouth around the huge hunk of food clutched in both hands.

As she was working on her latest mouthful, Mycea tried to say something around the food. The words emerged as an unintelligible mess.

"You're going to have to try that one again," Shepard suggested. "Less food, more words."

Mycea winced and swallowed. Shepard could practically see the huge morsel travelling down her throat. "Why do you wear gloves all the time? We're on Omega, it's not cold."

When Shepard glanced down, she saw the leather gloves Miranda had given her on Earth. "We are on Omega," Shepard replied, subconsciously clenching her left hand into a fist. She could picture the white substance flexing in a poor imitation of flesh. "You of all people should know how filthy this place is."

Mycea screwed up her face. "You're scared of dirt?"

Shepard shrugged. "And shit, vomit…and elcor toe nail clippings."

"It's Omega! What do you expect?" Myke replied with a laugh. It lasted all of a few seconds before she tore off another chunk of her food and began chomping loudly, the question of the gloves already forgotten.

The pair of them sat in companionable silence, punctuated only by the sound of the unfortunate food being devoured by at least one of them. Shepard's own burger sat almost untouched until Mycea had finished hers. The asari was noisily licking her fingers when she caught sight of it and suddenly stopped. "You not going to eat-"

She didn't need to finish the question. Shepard passed it across without a word and Myke grinned her thanks.

When the second burger had gone the way of the first, she belched and slumped into a contented slouch on her perch. Shepard had to admit that Myka was the most un-asari like asari she had ever met. She tried to recall whether Liara had ever belched in her presence but she doubted it. Even trying to imagine such a thing was difficult. When she did, she had to stifle a laugh at the ridiculous mental image she conjured.

"Have I got sauce on my face?" Mycea demanded, obviously thinking she was being laughed at.

Shepard shook her head. "No...well, actually yes you have, but that's not what I was laughing at. You're just extremely different to other asari I've met."

"You obviously don't know all that many asari then," Mycea replied, scrubbing at her messy face with the sleeve of her jacket. "We're not limited to being acolytes, whores or mercs you know." One corner of her lips curled up wistfully. "Although when I was younger I did dream of being a merc – a full-blooded Eclipse girl. I was fucking stupid."

"What happened?" Shepard prodded gently. It was her first brief glimpse into the young asari's past.

"I realised that being a merc meant you had to kill people," Mycea replied matter-of-factly. "And I didn't really care for the outfits you wear as a dancer so…" Her voice trailed off.

With curiosity not being one of her inherent traits, Shepard nevertheless found herself fascinated to know more. She also realised that she enjoyed the simple process of talking to someone. After weeks being imprisoned with relatively little company, it was refreshing. "So you sit around waiting to meet fugitives?"

Myke laughed, flashing her white teeth. "That was pure chance – a lucky one on my part. No…I help out where I can."

Shepard waited for her to offer something further, but apparently that part of the conversation was over. An unobtrusive alarm beeped and Mycea checked her omni-tool. The device had clearly seen better days, it flickered in an out of resolution.

"Shit, I gotta bounce, Shep," she announced suddenly. She hopped down lightly from the balustrade. "Got a place to be. I owe you for the food."

"Don't mention it." Shepard was shaking her head insistently even as the asari peeled away into the crowd with a last wave.

Shep. Only one person had ever called her that with any regularity. Shepard channelled the slender thief as she waited for several moments before following her new friend. Maintaining a discreet distance was relatively simple in the bustling marketplace. Although she lacked Kasumi Goto's tactical cloak or her innate ability to walk without a sound, it was noisy enough for her presence to be masked. Even as Mycea left the Tuhi District and moved into Fumi, she managed to follow. The Fumi District was still largely residential even though it had been damaged extensively during the Cerberus occupation. Following the restoration of essential systems, a great deal of resources had been diverted to rebuilding homes. Regardless of her ruthlessness, Aria knew how to look after her people. Even so, it was still home to a lower class of citizen – all trying to put their lives back together.

The asari had absolutely no inkling that she was being followed and did not look back once. Instead she moved quickly and purposefully. Her small body darted almost unseen between Omegans, and she spared no glances for anyone. Less than ten minutes later, at the edge of the Fumi District, she appeared to have reached her destination. She disappeared inside a non-descript building. The neon sign outside had ceased even trying to work, but Shepard could still make out the silent letters – Clinic. After a brief moment of hesitation, Shepard decided not to follow her inside.

Turning her back on the clinic, Shepard suddenly felt guilty that she had even thought to follow Mycea in the first place. She tried to tell herself that it was a simple case of curiosity but knew that it went deeper than that. Other than Liara, there was absolutely no one she could trust on Omega – not even the young asari.

Their apartment was largely silent when she returned. Neither she nor Liara had made any attempt to decorate their Spartan surroundings. Liara had been consumed with getting her network back up and running. Meanwhile Shepard, having never owned an apartment of her own, did not have a clue about interior decoration. All she knew for sure was that she did not want to look at another fish tank as long as she lived. When Liara had explained that she had taken Horatio from the Normandy, she was grateful. However she knew that the little guy was far better off on Earth with Hannah and Mack – even though Shepard knew full well that the former didn't approve of pets. It will be good for her, was Shepard's blunt reasoning. Hannah was crap at caring for a child, perhaps she could do better with a fish.

Bounding up the stairs two at a time, Shepard knew exactly where she would find Liara. Sure enough, her bondmate was standing in the exact same spot where she had left her a few hours earlier. The movements of her fingers across the haptic interface were fluid and animated, almost like a dance. Shepard leaned casually against the door frame, folding her arms across her chest almost as a form of armour.

"I know watching news feeds isn't your favourite pastime," Liara said without actually turning to look at her. "But you may want to catch up on the developments on Horizon."

"Horizon?" Shepard frowned as she moved forward to one of the feeds. She recognised the first images immediately as the camera panned over Sanctuary. Her lip curled into a sneer, wiped a few moments later when she listened to the voiceover inform her that the Alliance had finally been able to release Horizon's colonists from their quarantine. "There were survivors at that facility?" Shepard asked incredulously. "We found only husks…Banshees…" Her voice trailed off as she realised the full horror that she had left people behind, still trapped in the facility.

The image changed to accompany the reporter's enthusiastic mention that the whole release was overseen by Captain Ashley Williams of the Normandy. Shepard watched intently as they showed several brief shots of her friend – marvelling at her rapid rise through the ranks. Although she felt relieved to see Ashley looking tired but otherwise none the worse for wear, Normandy's commanding officer also wore an incredibly stormy expression in every frame.

"Ash didn't look happy to be there," Shepard mused quietly as the story finished.

"Indeed," Liara replied ominously. She did not elaborate further and instead brought up an image that had clearly been enhanced from the news feed.

Shepard squinted at the grainy picture showing a small group of people embracing. There was undoubtedly something familiar about the young female marine but Shepard couldn't place her. Not for several moments. When she eliminated the hardsuit from her mental images, she gasped. "Traynor?" she exclaimed.

"Samantha Traynor," Liara confirmed. "And both her parents – Nicholas and Radha – alive and apparently well."

With a further pang of guilt, Shepard remembered Sam's anguished plea to be a part of the team to Horizon. She'd refused on practical grounds, but now that decision was coming back to kick her in the gut. As Shepard stared at the image and dwelled on the ANN story, she felt as though a strange film of her life was being played back to her, one in which she had been removed completely. Seeing Ash and Sam brought on conflicting emotions, none of which she could reconcile within such a short space of time.

"I'm hungry," Shepard announced suddenly, simply for the sake of saying something. Having had a few mouthfuls of marketplace food, she was still not actually hungry. Nevertheless, she was driven by a sudden need to get away from the omnipresent feeds that seemed so intent on reminding her of obligations that she was still trying to relinquish. She wished she was back in the market, eating burgers and belching alongside Myke. "Do you want to eat with me?"

Upon hearing the question, Liara finally stopped working and turned to look at Shepard. When her eyes shone with unrestrained love, Shepard felt her seemingly irrational fears begin to dissipate immediately. They remained like that for almost half a minute before Shepard recognised the apologetic slump to Liara's shoulders.

"You've got a lot to do," Shepard answered for her. "I'll bring you something."

"Thank you, Evan," Liara replied – her voice was warm, but strained. "The Broker's network has never recovered from the war, then I went offline for several weeks…I fear that if I do not work quickly, it will disintegrate altogether. I cannot afford to let that happen."

"I understand Li, I really do." Shepard paused in the doorway. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" The offer was half-hearted at best.

Liara shook her head. "No, you've done enough." Trying not to let her relief show, Shepard grinned and was about to walk away when Liara continued, "Be wary of Mycea Kasos, Evan."

Shepard stopped in her tracks. "What?" She knew better than to be surprised that Liara knew who she was, still it did unnerve her. "Do you know something I don't?"

"Beyond her name, I have been unable to locate any information about her," Liara explained as she brought up a grainy picture of the young asari. Shepard recognised the back of her own head in the picture. "From experience, those are the sorts of people who have something to hide."

The warning was unnecessary. "Li," Shepard said in a low tone. "Stop spying on me."

"Shepard-" Liara's reply was panicked.

"I know you're just trying to keep me safe," Shepard said in a mild, soft voice that she hoped would alleviate the sudden tension between them. "But stop it…please?"

"I…I am sorry, Evan." Liara met her gaze evenly, but there was a trace of awkwardness there that reminded Shepard of early in their relationship. "But Omega…Aria…"

Shepard nodded. "If Aria wants to get to me she will, regardless of anything either of us can do. Whatever happens, I'll face her on my own terms." She was aware of the tension in the air, heightened by Liara's discomfort and her own simmering resentment. "I'll fix us something to eat. Please promise you'll take a break to eat with me?"

Liara managed a small smile. "I promise."