Liara listened as EDI relayed Shepard's pep talk to her. That was one thing about Shepard: she could hold people together during a crisis.

She looked at Alenko, remembering vaguely the last time she saw him asleep. It had been after the Battle of the Citadel: he had wandered out of his wards for a midnight walk, ran out of energy and ended up napping on a hallway couch.

He'd drooled in his sleep at the time, doubtless a side effect of whatever medication he'd been on.

His expression was harder now, with more angles and a certain uncompromising quality to it. Maybe it was because this was a forced unconsciousness, unnatural, not like sleep. He was still there. She couldn't feel his drift, exactly…but she knew it was there.

Apart from that, his vitals, while weak, were consistent. Wherever he was, he was hanging on with all the dogged determination that seemed, to her, to sum up the best quality humanity possessed. They were persistent when motivated, tenacious, inventive.

The door hissed open, admitting Shepard. There were no visible signs of the anger Liara had watched her wrestle with all day, no hint of fear about the Reapers, no signs of anything but concern over an injured friend.

Shepard's drift told a different story, first quivering hot and sinus-stinging, like a nose full of pepper, then shuddering like the convulsions after being physically ill with a color much to match such exhalations, then bracing as if against a threat. The rapid fluxing between the states of 'jangled nerves' made Liara's head hurt.

"No change?" Shepard asked needlessly.

"No. But he's hanging on."

Shepard walked over to Alenko, touched the back of her hand to his face as if she could somehow divine something useful in doing so.

Liara closed her eyes as Shepard's drift washed with pain, like that of an open, bleeding wound, a pain that seemed to drown out the other things flying around in her emotional haze. Shepard kept the tender concern off her face, but couldn't stop its gentle pink from seeping into her drift.

It made Liara feel as though she'd intruded on something deeply personal.

"Get mopped up, Liara. There're spare uniforms in the cargo bay. Anderson stocked this place against a hasty departure," Shepard declared. "I've made my rounds."

Liara got to her feet. "I'll come relieve you in a few hours."

"Thanks."

Liara forced a smile. "Can't have you saying 'I told you so' to the Council when you're too tired to enjoy it."

Shepard's smile was totally artificial and looked it. Clearly 'I told you so' didn't mean much to her. "We'll need to brief them on the device you found," Shepard announced. "Sooner or later."

"I'll be ready. And," she added, anticipating Shepard's next thought, "I'll have a copy of the briefing for Admiral Hackett."

"Sorry to cut in on your sleep." She certainly sounded sorry.

It was a sweet sort of hypocrisy: Shepard wanted to make sure her crew rested, took care of themselves, but she would run herself down to the bone. She had an excuse, of course, but Liara appreciated the irony. "Don't be. I doubt either of us will be getting much from here on in. Since we can speak frankly, there are a few things I need to discuss with you."

"Such as?" Shepard turned, giving Liara her full attention.

"I'll need to move into your XO's quarters. Specifically, I'll need to move my…various resources…into your XO's quarters."

"So my mobile headquarters is now your mobile headquarters?" Shepard asked wryly.

"Yes. The Shadow Broker is very interested in the direction this war will take. It's best that one of his agents stays close to the heart of the action," Liara smiled. It was strange referring to herself in the third person, but she had no desire to make herself a notorious figure. They didn't need any more high-profile targets on the Normandy than was absolutely necessary.

Shepard was notorious enough for two.

Shepard's mouth twisted into an unwilling curve of genuine amusement. "Thank 'him' for 'his' concern. Where do we need to go to get your stuff?"

"Oh, I left it on the Citadel in the last place anyone would ever look for it." She was fairly sure this was the case. None of the alerts that would have sounded if the shuttle had been disturbed had sounded. It had to be safe. Safe and unobtrusive. "I'll need your cargo bay for a little while, but I think that, with enough time, I can handle all the moving myself. I won't need to borrow any of your crew."

"They might find the distraction welcome," Shepard sighed, running a hand though her short hair. "Speaking of equipment and trappings, where's your little drone?"

"Glyph? I sent him to the XO's quarters and told him to stay put." Liara dropped her voice. "He tried…ah…adjusting some of EDI's runtimes. He's helpful, sometimes a little too much so."

"Got it," Shepard nodded, glancing towards the panel where EDI's blue popup could appear.

Liara got to her feet, rubbing her arms. Ships were cold when one sat still too long. Or maybe it was all in her head.

"Anything else I need to know?" Shepard asked.

"No, not that I can think of. I'll keep you apprised, though."

Shepard nodded, and Liara took her leave as Shepard's drift melted into a grey puddle.

Part of her was glad to leave: Shepard's drift got loud when she was worked up. Part of her wanted to stay: Shepard shouldn't be alone any more than Alenko should.

The XO's quarters had its own shower, but Liara didn't make use of it just yet. Instead, she sat down on the foot of the bed and turned on her omnitool. She needed to organize her thoughts about the device, prepare for briefings, both verbal and written.

She stared at the empty document ready for her input, but found no words.

No words, just worries.