Chapter 2: No One Left Behind
Commander Shepard asked a question where the truthful answer gave Liara no way out. Why human history, when in fact, a scientist very much evidently enthusiastic about the Protheans - dedicating literally half of her life to them - would suddenly rather research humans instead. Especially when Shepard has been very generous in finding and donating any prothean data disc and artifact to the scientist.
There was a way out, but it was a narrow tunnel with a lot of traffic that would sooner spell a fatal crash.
"I realized that in order to accurately interpret the data and the artifacts, I must take a break; at least temporarily. A kind of shore leave, I suppose, if that's the correct term. I have been missing something in my research and analysis, so I have diverted my attention to learning more about your species until I am able to look at the evidence with fresh eyes, as humans say."
That was believable and reasonable, right? Judging from the unreadable stoic look on Shepard's face, it was likely to postulate that-
Liara clipped a corner, flipped the mako, and was burning alive.
Emerald orbs peered at her, and a haunted voice echoed in the recesses of her mind.
"I don't appreciate being lied to, Dr. T'Soni."
Why did it sound so... real, like it was actually said? It made itself clear it was just a dream, unless she was still dreaming now. Possible, with how vivid everything felt before.
Something glowed orange, startling her with the shudder crawling under her skin. Her gaze snapped to the PDA in the corner of her eye and her hand reached out, ahead of her mind, too slow to stop it. She turned the PDA off with a touch of force not at all necessary with a fragile datapad. Shame inked through her veins for the somewhat aggressive display; she obviously hadn't, but she felt as if she had thrown the datapad at the wall. She may as well have, with the way tension meandered over their heads like a cloud now.
"Dr. T'Soni?" Shepard's tender voice was so alien, the scientist was nearly convinced this was in fact another dream. "Are you sure you're fine? That meld seemed to have..."
Silence filled in the rest when the soldier drifted off. Liara's gaze fell to the floor, as if searching for the answers that would give her a way out this time. There was none. She had already crashed and was still burning, and this was adding fuel to the flames. All she could see was that amber glow penetrating behind her eyes, and purple-stained grass. She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in an abrupt breath to steel herself. Though... she couldn't bring herself to confess and make a fool of herself yet again. Besides, the commander was just going to think she's weak, or insane for putting so much stock in a silly fabrication cooked up in her brain.
"Y-you will think I am absurd, Commander."
"I will think no such thing, Doctor."
Resolute, stern, with that familiar air and stability of command. Shepard coaxed her out of her shell in one fell swoop with a surprise attack: squeezing Liara's hand. Her eyes snapped open, soldered to study the back of the human's bare hand, cursing herself for wearing a suit that gloved and protected her hands. She wanted to feel more than just pressure.
She was certainly feeling some heat threaten to bleat her cheeks. It was blasted away.
"A marine knows when she's outmatched, but a marine is never alone. I'm calling in reinforcements."
What? What on Thessia was the commander talking about? Maybe she was the one that wasn't fine after that meld.
"I realize I'm not good at these things, and our talk of intimidation has led me to believe that you don't feel... comfortable... with me." Shepard seemed to rush her words to interject the scientist's coming defense. "Which is fine - don't worry and don't apologize." Something flickered on Shepard's face, the slightest twitch on the corner of her lips, the subtlest of subtle smiles in the entire galaxy. Liara would take anything she could get.
...By the Goddess, she almost sounded desperate.
Anyone would be, just to find evidence that this busybody human still even possessed the capability to smile. Yes, that was the story Liara was going to go with.
"But if you can't talk to me then I'd like you to talk to Dr. Chakwas or whomever else you trust, Dr. T'Soni; though you'll find Dr. Chakwas is a great listener. I would know."
That piqued the scientist's curiosity. It unfortunately signaled the end as well, and she was helpless to stop it as she begrudgingly allowed the human's hand back to her. That was when Liara realized she had turned her palm up so that her fingers had wrapped around the commander's wrist.
"You've been through a lot, and you've been working yourself to the bone. I think I've been pushing you too hard and that you need a break in general from all of this. Expecting military standards and discipline from an untrained civilian wasn't right and was unreasonable of me."
"I-it is fine, Commander. If I had ever felt that I could not contribute or keep up, I would have brought it to your attention."
That subtle smile earlier had turned for the worse, a sad tinge to it. Shepard quietly climbed off the other side of the bed, leaving the scientist to her own devices in the captain's quarters. There was something in the marine's tone, an inflection that Liara never wished to hear again, and inwardly chastised herself.
"Would you have, if you've been intimidated by me all this time?"
The door hissed shut, and usually the commander leaving brought relief as the tension melted away from Liara's body. Solitude and isolation were her comfort; but instead, it was the opposite here. She stared at her hand, flexing her fingers, closing her eyes to reminisce the pressure and intense warmth that flooded through her gloves. A focused breath in bathed her in the human's scent, strongest in these quarters: gun oil and the standard soap for humans found in the military shower stalls aboard the Normandy.
What was peculiar was that sweat and blood heavily laced the air, and she opened her eyes to inspect the source, where a heavy bag idly swung in the corner. Liara put the stool back at the desk and strode over to the bag, gingerly spinning it - quickly finding that she needed to put some force into it to get it to even rotate a little on it's thick chains.
Old bloodstains dotted the bag, and some parts had mini-crater impressions almost methodically etched in. They all seemed focused on the center, and the discovery fascinated Liara when her brain pieced it together. A boxing bag, just like the ones shown on the extranet. Thessia never had these. Asari - and especially asari commandos - never needed these for lifting something like this with biotics would be child's play, and hand-to-hand combat training was all through sparring. Something like this would have been inefficient and laughed at.
So what purpose did it serve here? It was also clear that Shepard didn't need any more training. The bloodstains were worrisome. There was another glaringly obvious clue below the bag, where Liara's gaze next went to the boxing gloves and hand wraps abandoned on the ground. With how musty these all smelled, it seemed to have been some time since they'd seen use.
Something told her - along with that thousand yard stare she caught the commander in earlier - that it would prove to be useful now, of all times, to release some tension. No wonder the woman didn't smile if she kept all that stress and burden pent up in her. It was locked in that bunker, the bunker that refused to relent in popping up in Liara's thoughts. She had almost a mournful feeling tugging at her - mourning that Shepard had lost the trust and comfort to let others close to share the burden.
Well, until the marine offered up a couple innocent minerals - with a not so innocent message. Sort of.
Okay, it was, but that wasn't the point, and Liara's brain shouldn't try to be smart with her right now; not unless it was going to offer up insight on how to create an atmosphere where it was Shepard's turn to feel comfortable. She always checked in on the scientist to see if Liara was fine, now the opposite needed to happen.
Left alone in the captain's quarters provided an interesting opportunity, especially if it seemed as though the commander wasn't going to allow her to go on the next few missions for a bit - a saddening fact. Though Liara detested the casual amount of times her life had been in danger, it always proved to be a learned experience that she would have never gotten otherwise, on her own. She spent so much time avoiding everything, only focused on her research, that it had deprived her of cherished adventures as she explored and investigated many other things than just Prothean; and, to boot, had met a lot of interesting people, conquering challenging situations.
Fear mocked her at that, when it thrummed strong in the pits of her belly. Her mind escaped her for a moment and went back to the time her, Tali and Shepard were trapped in a mine, where a seismic event was purposefully triggered to ensure they stayed that way - trapped, with a bomb.
Elanos Haliat. The turian pirate who blamed the commander for his downfall because apparently pirates should just be allowed to massacre innocent people and enslave them. There was a building hatred seeded in her chest, but she remembered looking over at the soldier - fearful that they were going to die entombed with the nuclear payload - and seeing how far away Shepard was in the eyes. She hid somewhere behind them. The image of a bunker came to Liara's mind again, and it clicked: the events of the Skyllian Blitz was a clue.
With that, Liara left the quarters to embark on her own personal mission, heading straight for Dr. Chakwas.
"Commander."
Soldiers saluted her as Lucy exited the comm room and she nodded to them as she strode to the galaxy map, a tiny hop to her step - scandalous to anyone with keen eyes watching her and scrutinizing her enthusiasm. She had to fight to keep the smile tickling the corners of her mouth. Finally, a lead, something that might bring them back to stepping on Saren's coattails. What a - not - surprise that the Alliance was being more helpful and faithful in her investigation rather than the Council.
Star charts illuminated before her eyes, and she navigated the holographic interface as she decided which of the four systems to go to first to wipe out geth incursions. If they were preparing for a full-scale invasion, then Saren had to be involved in this, and maybe the Conduit was somewhere there. There was no way about it, it was just a matter of shooting in the dark and pray it hit something.
"Plot a course for the Tereshkova system and get Joker scanning the planets for any geth comm chatter," she belayed the order aloud to XO Pressly, standing at attention. He saluted and went off to the helm as she continued to muse upon the galaxy map, studying the systems. Tereshkova, a scandalously sentimental choice; it was named after Valentina Tereshkova, the first woman to fly in space. If only people knew the truth behind what most of her decisions lied upon. She probably wouldn't have been chosen as a Spectre then.
Another fight to keep the smile away from her lips.
Lucy made her way down, heading towards the med-bay to receive a pre-mission checkup and order checkups for the crewmates she intended to take with her to fight the geth. If there was anything she learned from those bloody machines, it was that everybody needed to be working beyond peak condition before engaging with them. People tired and made mistakes - a woeful disadvantage in face of the geth.
Dr. Chakwas greeted her alone in the med-bay, and Lucy's stomach twisted a little uncomfortably. Had she been too hard-handed and harsh with Dr. T'Soni? Well, she couldn't exactly expect the scientist to just take up her suggestion and open up about the intimate matters of the mind; especially if Dr. T'Soni wasn't only intimidated by Lucy, but humans in general.
"Commander Shepard," Dr. Chakwas smiled and gestured to one of the beds. "XO Pressly already informed me of the coming mission. How are you feeling?"
"As good as I'll ever be," Lucy replied shortly as she hopped up on the edge. As soon as Dr. Chakwas picked up the marine's arm to test it's mobility, there was an impending tension hanging like a curtain. Lucy stole glances often to gauge what might be the change, and her efforts of espionage blew up in her face - of course, subterfuge hadn't ever really been her specialty.
"Liara came in earlier," Dr. Chakwas stated, and something seemed to... dance... in her tone. It was subdued, as if she was amused that she knew something. "She said you ordered her to, though I doubt you ordered her to intrude upon doctor-patient confidentiality."
Lucy cocked a brow at that. "I didn't order her. That's what she said?"
"Take no offense to this Commander, but with the way you are, it is easy to misconstrue your tone as a command." Dr. Chakwas gently laid down one arm and started to test the other, drawing small circles at the shoulder to ink out any musculoskeletal issues. "Though she admitted what you had told her after I informed her that I couldn't speak to her about what you and I discuss in our sessions."
That tension increased incrementally, and there was a knowing look in Dr. Chakwas' eyes as she swayed in the marine's line of vision. "I'll ask again. How are you feeling?"
"You have me at a disadvantage here, doc. It seems you know something I don't."
"Don't dodge the question, Lucy. You know that won't work with me."
Whatever it was that Dr. T'Soni requested, it seemed to have backfired beautifully in the marine's face. Lucy hadn't expected the scientist to have made an intentional effort to find out what was going on in her head. It seemed the meld wasn't an all-knowing tool at the asari's disposal.
What a world of relief that was; some places just shouldn't be tread upon.
When her arm was let down, the doctor gave a piercing and expectant look. Lucy sighed and relented. "Feros struck some nerves."
Dr. Chakwas resumed her test, settling in a role she probably never expected herself in. Even if she wasn't trained in this field, Lucy trusted her more than any psychiatrist the marine had ever been thrown in a fox hole with. She understood protocol, and ordinarily would have agreed with it, but didn't protocol understand that the mind was a little too complex to follow by-the-book rules? Well, with how many Alliance marines she had to deal with thus far that have succumbed to PTSD because they didn't receive the help they needed, it was obvious the system wasn't exactly in their favor.
Silence hung about a little too long, and a subtle nudge broke her out of her thoughts. A tiny apologetic smile was given, and the doctor nodded in her reception.
"The colonists there..." Lucy bit on the flesh of her cheek. "Some of them reminded me of the ones at the Skyllian Blitz."
"Fighting for their home, against an enemy they couldn't possibly ever hope to win against." Dr. Chakwas knelt in front and began to test the ankles and knees. "Geth, and ExoGeni."
"The geth, they were-" the marine looked off to the wall. "They didn't bother me as much as what happened with ExoGeni. They were worse. The corporation knew about the Thorian, and instead of an outright assault, they used the colonists for their experiments. Their minds were..." Lucy's thumb nail dug into the side of her index, the pain welcome than the frustrating emotions broiling inside of her. "They were violated, and then they were manipulated like puppets. It was easier to listen. Less painful. Fai Dan took his own life instead of listening."
"You and him both knew you would have been fine, that you would have no issues being able to defend yourself. And yet he chose that way."
Lucy gritted her teeth. "Why? If he listened, he would have at least died without pain."
"He got to choose his own end, to die with dignity. We don't always get to choose. That was the last one he could still make of his own volition."
"Part of me feels like he didn't just do it for that reason. Before he took his life, he expressed guilt that he couldn't be the leader the people needed him to be." Lucy threaded a hand through her hair, a heavy sigh forcing out of her. "No one could be a leader in that situation. All odds are purposefully set against you, like chess pieces on the board. Bloody hell, even we have trouble with the geth, and we're trained military professionals. The best of the best. They were just civilians. And they had ExoGeni, and a fucking god-knows-how-old alien probing their brains. He shouldn't have had to carry that guilt with him to his grave."
Dr. Chakwas remained therapeutically silent as Lucy vented more and more, the inferno inside of her unleashed as the cage opened, left to burn untamed. It had been a while since she'd let this out of her, and every time, it reminded her that she kept forgetting how good this felt to get it out of her system; she didn't need to be 'Commander Shepard' here, resolute and unwavering so that a painted picture of how strong she was would help morale never falter.
But she needed to falter. She needed to crack, to air out the steam. She knew she was losing sight of herself with every difficult decision forced upon her shoulders, and that scared her, even though she knew and signed on for this risk. She didn't want to end up like Lieutenant Zabaleta - an alcoholic begging for spare change for just one more drink to get through the day; or Major Kyle - who's mind was taken from him by PTSD, and stitched together a biotic cult, outcasts to protect because he could no longer protect himself; or Corporal Toombs - exacting revenge on the scientists that ran experiments on him and subjected his squad to a deadly thresher maw attack just to see what would happen, like ExoGeni and the Thorian.
All of this left a bitter taste on her tongue, and that thirst for blood was growing stronger inside of her as the seed of hatred began to bloom.
"All good people, abandoned," she seethed. "What happened to 'no one left behind'? I joined the Alliance to get away from the rot corrupting Earth, only to find more of it out here as I do everybody's dirty laundry." As soon as the medical doctor was done her test, Lucy bent over and rested her elbows on her knees, burying her head in her hands. "I'm a fucking janitor no matter where I go, cleaning up the mess and taking out the bloody trash."
Toxicity built up on her tongue, and the second the venom dripped, she forcibly reigned herself back in and took slow deep diaphragmatic breaths to regain control of her fraying temper. Breathing used to be laughed at - really, just breathe to calm down, how stupid and simple was that? - until Dr. Chakwas taught her this technique, and Lucy quickly came to respect it's consistent results. It was far more efficient than the heavy bag, and something she could carry around with her anywhere to utilize it at any time.
Well, she could still punch things, but it was somewhat frowned upon to start going on a people-punching spree.
"You're out there fighting things like that, because of things like that; it seems that what's troubling you most is that those things are originating from places that should harbor genuine goodwill and trust instead," Dr. Chakwas noted gently, taking a seat on the bed across from Lucy as they continued to converse.
It helped greatly that the medical doctor wasn't just typing away notes like the psychiatrists before. It set the marine closer to the edge when they did that, though she understood they were just doing their job. Maybe it wasn't entirely different, what Dr. Chakwas was doing; but instead of being analyzed and nitpicked just to checkmark a few boxes to stay cleared for duty, Lucy felt like she could actually explore and express herself - rather than strategize what to say so she wouldn't get discharged or shipped off somewhere if it seemed like she was going to start waving a red flag.
Give her a white flag, she's been desperately wanting to wave that lately.
"How about the new visions from the Cipher, have they been affecting you at all?"
Lips set in a puzzled frown, and Lucy gave a halfhearted shrug. "There wasn't much new, but rather it just... organized them, I guess. Dr. T'Soni helped put some pieces together on top of that, but it's still unclear, and at the same time... familiar? I have trouble deciphering whether or not the images are the visions or from what I experienced, because it feels like I've been there." She massaged her temples. "The melding has helped with my headaches at least. I still get them, but not as frequent as before."
At the mention of Dr. T'Soni, Lucy lifted her head from her hands. "What exactly was she trying to find out about me, from you?"
Dr. Chakwas' face turned apologetic for a moment, and she smiled sorrowfully. "The Skyllian Blitz. I told her all the information was on the extranet, and that I was not able to divulge our personal conversations because of doctor-patient confidentiality. She respected that and left to her quarters to research, I presume. She'll find out quickly that the only thing she'll have access to are the reports and pictures from the news. Curious... that she asked specifically about the blitz."
That came from left field. Nowhere at any point of time did they ever discuss the Skyllian Blitz in Lucy's quarters, so where did Dr. T'Soni come up with this, and why?
Without thinking, Lucy rode and strode towards the scientist's makeshift quarters - Dr. T'Soni really needed to get something other than a laboratory - and stopped at the doorway when Dr. Chakwas' subtly amused tone began to dance again. Her insight seemed to be offered only to save and spare a certain scientist from finding herself in the crosshairs, under fire.
"It seems to me that there is one more good person that Liara does not want abandoned; no one left behind."
Hissing filled the air as the door to her quarters slid and Liara jumped a little in her seat, startled from the sudden sounds as she was abruptly broken from her focus. She turned in her chair, and like a child caught red-handed, she spun back around and none-too-deftly scrambled to open up a random article on her terminal to hide all the reports of the Skyllian Blitz. She cringed at herself.
Goddess, as if that hadn't made it all obvious that she clearly had something to hide from the commander. Could this get any worse?
All Shepard would have to do is order her to show what was going on, and she had to oblige. She held her breath and helplessly stared at her screen as decisive footsteps thudded towards her. Her shoulder crawled when a calloused hand hooked on her chair, fingertips teasing her - now was most definitely not the time to be found wanting a little more touch and pressure.
Red came in her peripheral vision. She was frozen in her seat, and her throat tightened, a lump choking off her voice.
"Interesting article, Dr. T'Soni," the marine murmured gravelly.
Liara wished she paid attention as to what she was opening up in place of the reports, and she got the damning answer to a question she preferred unanswered.
Yes; this could, in fact, get much worse.
"Elcor mating rituals," Shepard read, and there was something so subtle in the inflection of her voice that the scientist swore she was being teased. "They dance and sing for their partner? Curious. I wonder how that would look like."
Stop this. Goddess, please stop this and save Liara from this horrible embarrassment. Even confessing the truth seemed far more preferable than this torture.
"With enthusiastic glee: human, be mesmerized by the non-existential sway of my hips as I sing to you before I will break you with a lap dance. Yeah. Hot." That sounded alien coming from Shepard, and she was already alien enough. "This is compelling stuff. I can see why the nuances of their behavior and movements would pique the interest of an intelligent asari scientist, I dare say this is even far more interesting than the Protheans."
Oh, the nerve of that! Nothing was more interesting than the mystical and mysterious Prothean race.
"Scroll down Dr. T'Soni, I want to read all the juicy details."
This confirmed it, the scientist was just being horribly teased. And to hear such scandalous things in such a monotone voice, and from Shepard of all people...
"C-Commander, that is not necessary," Liara whispered pleadingly. A part of her yearned from more contact when fingertips brushed a little firmer on her shoulder.
"I believe it's prudently necessary to understand how other cultures function," the commander deftly responded - a little too quickly, as if she expected the response.
Eyes narrowed, Liara mustered the courage to look at Shepard, even with such a dire accusation. "You are enjoying this."
There it was, the subtlest of subtle smiles tugging the corner of the commander's mouth. It had swiftly grown into something not so subtle and very glaringly - almost obnoxiously - obvious when Shepard looked back at her, a devilish smirk playing on her lips, contrasting her flat mock-elcor tone.
"With enthusiastic glee: guilty as charged, Dr. T'Soni."