One of the very first things Liara has learned since joining the Normandy's team is that the Commander seems to actually enjoy spending her time up at the command center. More specifically, the pilot's cockpit, where her liberal use of the system-wide comms has earned an equal amount of groans as it does chuckles among the crew, as it does now.
"This is your Commander speaking. Due to the current work load, the light at the end of the tunnel will be turned off until further notice."
Liara smiles to herself as she plugs away data on her omni-tool at the mess hall table, finding it more enjoyable to work here rather than her makeshift quarters in the med-bay's storage room. There's no speaker in there. The silence collects one minute after another, and disappointment with it. No more announcements.
This has got to be the most laidback military vessel, or perhaps that is how humans prefer to lead, a great contrast to the turians. Though Liara has not had much experience with humans, she's heard otherwise often, where humans are largely viewed as aggressive bullies. She keeps it to herself that the Commander may not only be challenging that perspective, but also challenging it in a way that may not necessarily bode well to humanity's image and reputation.
Smoke wafts down and her nose wrinkles. It's the very second thing she's learned since joining the team that the Commander nourishes a horrible habit. At least the smell is sweet rather than bitter, making it tolerable to work with. Liara looks up at the ceiling and switches where she sits to be underneath the venting system. Her curiosity perks at the sound of the Commander talking, trying not to stare outright when the short human comes around the corner, omni-tool alight with a vid-feed of a quarian Liara has yet to meet. It's about to become the third thing she learns that she'd very much like to.
"Tali, can you help me out?" Shepard asks. "I tried checking my credit chit balance and instead it's trying to give me a coupon for dextro-amino noodles."
Faint laughter on the other line. "Are you sure you have credits, Hale?"
Shepard comes to the table and makes herself comfortable on the opposite end of Liara, thank the Goddess, because she doesn't know how to inconspicuously move to get away from the walking smokestack. The human rolls her eyes, combing her wayward bangs out of her face with a sigh. "I'm pretty sure I have enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life."
"Uh huh. If you die in two days?"
The Commander grins. "So can ya help me or not?"
"I'm not loaning you credits. Again."
The feed is cut before Shepard has a chance to protest. Her cigarette almost falls out and she groans, rolling it to the center of her lips. Her ice-blue eyes briefly meet Liara's, and danger jolts through the asari scientist. She smiles meekly, tensing in her seat, and melts with relief when Shepard's gaze snaps to the table instead, pressing a button to slide open a compartment to flick her ashes in it. There's an awkward silence growing between the two, even with the bustle of working crew members coming and going through the mess hall.
Those pools of icy-blues are intimidating to look at, and though Liara has gotten an abundance of experience of reading people thanks to her mother's work, there's no reading someone who's expression and demeanor can be at total odds at times. From the brave glimpses she steals from the corner of her eyes, she swears she's being glared at, and wonders if it's in due part to distrust because of who her mother is currently working for.
Noise alerts her, along with a spike of that smoky smell. She has no choice but to confront what's coming. She looks up, struggling to retain her smile in the face of those cutting eyes, and is secretly relieved when the cigarette is snuffed out along the way.
"Doctor T'Soni," Shepard says coolly, somehow making her name drawl within a thin line between professionalism and colloquialism. The Commander sits opposite to Liara and, contrary to her usual brash ways, seems to make an effort to be polite and formal. She pads herself down and procures a small packet of galaxybursts, opening and offering it to the asari scientist. Suddenly, her collected composure cracks in a flurry of flighty questions. "Ever heard of these? Ever had one? Want to try one? Here." The Commander takes it upon herself to plop one into Liara's hand. "Try it. Or have it if you've already tried it."
Can Liara get one word in?
It doesn't seem that way when Shepard turns the packet around, rolling her eyes as she sarcastically reads. "Fun size. Fail to see how there's anything fun about less candy."
"Er, thank you," Liara quickly squeezes in before the human runs on infinite breaths again.
"No problem. Hey, you want my coupon too? The dextro-amino noodles. Definitely not giving it to Tali. Can you eat it? Do asari need dextro-amino proteins too?"
Goddess, she would save herself a lot of time and effort if she limited it to one question, and allowed at least one answer.
"No," Liara quickly squeezes in again, smiling when it's lost in another bout of questions. She takes it upon herself to reach over and pluck the bag of candy straight out of the Commander's hands, an experiment of sorts, and a successful one at that. It stops Shepard dead in her endless tracks. Bravely, Liara spills out a couple more galaxybursts in her palm, helping herself to them while maintaining the frozen gaze across from her.
All the while, she ponders on the things she's learning here. The short human across from her has peculiar tastes and habits, something completely unexpected from a military official, and one inducted to represent the Council's interests at that. Always in possession of cigarettes and candy, but the same can't be said for credits, it seems.
Liara takes one more galaxyburst, until a hand snaps over her wrist. Shepard has this heart-wrenching look, and one look at the empty bag of candy offers a good guess why.
"Would you like it?" Liara asks, feeling strangely mischievous. Perhaps it's due to all the silly 'announcements' on the comms.
"It's my candy," the Commander balks. "I should be asking you that." She seems to hesitate when her gaze falls to Liara's hand, but then she leans over the table in her reach to swipe it for herself. She grumbles something under her breath while she unwraps the candy, then pops it in her mouth with a ferocity that leaves no room for arguing whether it's hers or not. The empty packet is disposed of with what Liara swears on her life is a pout, however subtle, but the way those eyes linger for a few seconds too long to constitute anything other than grief is her evidence.
With candy possessively gnashing in Shepard's mouth, she relaxes back in her chair and settles back in the formality she attempted earlier. It seems she isn't quite aware that the way she's eating isn't really helping her cement the image she appears to want to portray, but Liara keeps that secret to herself the way someone is keeping their precious treasure.
No need to sacrifice her entertainment.
"So, Doctor T'Soni, have you been given the tour of the ship yet? Should've, after you've stowed your things. Forgot to assign someone to you though."
Before this has a chance to flourish into another never-ending trail, Liara shakes her head and squeezes in a swift: "no." She takes the opportunity when the flighty human takes a breath. "I would appreciate it if I could, though. I only know this deck, but haven't yet explored the other decks. I did not feel I should in case if I end up going somewhere I shouldn't."
"There's nowhere that's really off-limits, there's staff everywhere and they're free to speak their mind if you intrude upon their workspace. I can only show you around but truthfully I don't know where exactly you shouldn't be in those areas. It's safe to say not to loiter around workstations though." Shepard rises from her seat and quickly makes it around the table before the asari scientist does, just to offer a hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."
Respectfully, Liara takes the offered hand, even though she's just fine getting out the chair herself. It brings with it some mild amusement, how she goes from almost being face-to-face level, to towering above the human that's just barely making it to her shoulder. In asari society, some roles require one meets a certain height. Is this an insightful piece of information as to what the Alliance expects in their soldiers? The Commander doesn't really seem to fill out the 'ideal' soldier by any definition, if evident by the way other more disciplined human marines are aboard this ship. Liara follows Shepard to the other room beside the mess hall, a quick first stop.
"This here's my quarters. Whenever we're traveling, you'll likely find me here to kill the time. If you ever need anything, just swing by and let me know. I'll do my best to accommodate you."
Surprisingly polite, for some of the filthy things that come out of her mouth. Things Liara is not brave enough to repeat.
"We can come here after the tour, if you're not busy with work yourself. There are some amenities in my quarters that you may find useful."
"Amenities?" Liara raises a brow at that. "Does the squad have the same privileges?"
"Some of them. Wrex doesn't." Shepard folds her hands behind her head, throwing a cheeky smirk over her shoulder. "He'd break everything in there and it wouldn't be 'cause of his size. You're already familiar with the rest of this deck, right? Med-bay, sleeper pods?"
"Yes, that's all I know so far. And that the command center leads to the airlock, and the elevator leads to the hangar bay."
"Not all it leads to. I can't show you much of the CiC since that's reserved for authorized personnel working up there, so all that's left are the other decks. Come on."
The Commander leads to the elevator and waits, ever so casual with her body language that is not at all befitting of a commanding officer. On the field, she was different. Here, something seems off, or forced, even though the demeanor itself appears natural to her. There's an anxious aura about her and it's rubbing off of Liara. She tries not to make or hold eye contact when the elevator shifts, humming and rolling ever so slowly. Thankfully, the next stop isn't as long as the ride to the hangar bay. The shutters open and Shepard leads again with a little bounce in her step.
"On this deck resides our life support, the crew quarters, the starboard and port observations, and our research facility, which you may find considerable use of alongside our quarian crew mate, Tali. If there's any equipment you need, send a requisition form to Engineer Adams and he'll see if we have the budget to get it."
"Understood, Commander." Liara falls into step a little more easily now that the air of business has returned. "Where may I find these requisition forms?"
"You'll have access to the Normandy's system and resources as soon as I create an account for you, which I'll do when I return to my quarters. Navigating it should be relatively easy but if you run into any issues then just send me a ping on my omni-tool and I'll help you out as soon as I'm free."
"Alright. Thank you, Commander."
Something about Shepard changes for a moment, and then comes back with familiarity when she throws a smirk over her shoulder. "Don't mention it. This way."
They tour the deck and visit every room, with the Commander slinging playful verbal jabs to some people in the crew quarters. Their mischievous dampens when their gaze meets Liara's, and she can tell that trust isn't in the air. In a predominantly human-run crew, it would be easy to say that it's only due to her being an alien to them as they are aliens to her, but she's heard whispers of her mother's name. So why doesn't the Commander harbor the same distrust? She's the one actively fighting against Saren and hunting Benezia down.
Liara loses herself in her thoughts as she tails behind, unaware that there's silence between her and Shepard. She senses that eyes are on her, though all sense is taken away from her when they enter the starboard observation.
Her eyes widen at the marvel, a breathless word slipping out. "Wow..."
"Right?" Shepard smiles and walks up to the window. "The starboard observation has some different amenities than the port observation. There tends to be less activity here." She gestures to the book. "The crew does enough reading of data and reports, so not many peruse leisurely books. The port observation has games and a bar."
Liara arches her brow in surprise. "A bar?"
"Yeah, but only when you're off-duty." The Commander turns around and leans on the window, her smile almost exuding an apology of sorts. "Not sure when that will be for you, unless the crew gets some shore leave when we port to vent the ship's engines. That's the only time I indulge in a few drinks myself, so if you're a drinker, then you must let me know before I take you on a mission. I can't afford to have people under the influence of anything with me."
"Understood, and you won't have any issues like that with me. I'm not much of a drinker." Not anymore. She's had her fair share of parties in university to teach her that it's not at all a good idea. "So," she looks around the observation deck, noting how there isn't anyone else here. "You said less activity... How little are we talking about?"
"Basically no one but me and Doctor Chakwas," Shepard chuckles. Her statement earns surprise, apparently obvious enough to see it written all over the asari scientist's face, and grins as she crosses her arms, as if to emphasize her tattoos. There's a bit of red splotching the base of her throat. "What's up with that face, Doctor? Don't think I like to read, or something?"
"Erm..."
"Well you're not wrong," the Commander shrugs. She turns to face the stars and plops on her rump, keeping herself upright with her arms locked straight behind her. "I come here to work out, steal a few weights from the gym for a little bit. Looking at the stars somehow helps more than motivational music. I get lost in my sets."
"Like meditation," Liara notes, smiling to herself when she notes reddening ears accompany Shepard's meek shrug. She comes over to sit beside the human. "Would you be uncomfortable if I were to join you when you work out here?"
"What, like work out with me?"
The tables have turned. It's Liara's turn to feed that little mischievous urge, though does her best to school the smile into a sincere one.
"What's up with that face, Commander?" She parrots. "Don't think I like to exercise, or something?"
Shepard stares. For a few seconds too long, Liara begins to wonder if she's crossed the line, until she's rewarded with a hearty laugh and carefree grin.
"Touché."
What does that mean?
"So," the Commander's grin grows. "Am I wrong?"
"You are very much not wrong," Liara chuckles softly. She looks out to the stars. "I believe I will get adequate enough exercise on the field. No need to overdo it."
"Fair enough. Well, you're welcome to be here too when I work out." Shepard leans forward and jerks her chin to the books. "Something tells me you're the only one that's gonna be touching those."
"Possibly. I was actually planning to utilize this space for work, but reading will serve as a nice break in between."
"Reading in between reading, huh?"
Liara draws her knees to her chest with a small shrug. Comfortable silence falls between the two, staring out at the sea of stars. She's met with an uncomfortable sense that eyes are darting to her, and an even more uncomfortable topic to remind her of what she's been trying not to think of. It seems the human has been trying to find or create a moment to ask this very question, with the way she blows through the words.
"What are you going to do when we find Benezia, Doctor T'Soni?"
"I don't know yet," Liara admits softly. "I've read the reports on what Saren's done. I have yet to wrap my mind around the fact that my mother is working with him. It's all so bizarre. I've been out of touch with her, yes, but that shouldn't facilitate such a drastic change. She's taught me everything I know. What she's doing is going against everything I know, so I... I don't know what I'm going to do." She rests her forehead on her knees, sighing. "It seems she's teaching me one final lesson. I thought I knew everything, and it turns out I know nothing."
Nothing is said, and she wonders if she's only given more ammunition for distrust. Then the Commander lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. Nothing is still said. There's a subtle squeeze, and then Shepard sighs, letting go. She bumps shoulders and rocks back on her rump.
"Have to admit, I dunno what to say or think either, T'Soni. I don't think there are any right words for something like this. Can't comfort discomfort itself." Shepard taps the asari scientist's shoulder to encourage her to lift her head, and rises, offering a hand. "All we can do is hope and trust that maybe things aren't as they appear to be. Come on. Let's finish our tour, and then we can come back here. We have a little less than two hours before we reach our destination." She smiles. "Then I can read and you can exercise, for good luck."
"Good luck?" Liara takes the human's hand, somewhat hesitant as she thinks she'll just topple the short human over, but finds surprising steady strength instead.
It only serves to emphasize the Commander's point.
"Yeah. That we aren't the only ones who aren't what we appear to be."
"Alright, so." Hale hooks a towel on her sweaty neck, using the ends to wipe her face. She invites the asari into her quarters and makes a beeline for her shower. "This is the main amenity I was referencing earlier. I don't know about your preferences but Tali helped bring to awareness that the crew seemed awkward when she used the showers to cleanse her suit, and, well, the truth is nobody on the Normandy has worked with aliens. So if you ever want some privacy until the crew and you acclimatize to each other, you're welcome to use my shower." She reaches up as high as she can, her fingertips barely skimming the top of the frame as the bathroom door slides open, wanting to draw attention to the sign. "Just make sure you pay attention whether or not it's locked."
"Does the turian, Garrus, also use these showers?"
"Huh? Nah. He doesn't seem to care if the crew is comfortable or not. Or rather, he isn't uncomfortable, and he believes exposure helps everybody get over it. He's not wrong. But I don't want to force you or Tali into just exposing yourselves for the sake of the crew getting used to aliens, especially since we're likely just as alien to you." Hale tosses the towel into the laundry chute, turning around to give a casual salute. "I'm stealing this shower first. You're welcome to have it afterwards, I can get some towels for ya. Be out in a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable, see what else in here draws your fancy."
Without giving a chance to receive an answer, Hale darts inside the shower and locks the door with all due haste. She's sweaty, sure, but she's hot for an entirely different reason, a reason she doesn't understand. There's something both intimidating and magnetizing about the Doctor's personality and the way she carries herself. She seems to bumble about socially, the way Hale can relate to, with only professionalism being their saving grace.
It's no secret that confidence is something she likes, but it's a strange different kind of confidence, one that simultaneously possesses humility. It doesn't make sense.
Hale sheds her workout clothes and dumps it all in the laundry chute, electing to use as hot of a shower as she can tolerate to cleanse herself and the fog clouding her thoughts. She steps into the stall, turns on the water, embracing the initial jolt of cold, and plucks her loofah off the hook to soap it up and scrub herself down.
None of her thoughts are making sense to her right now. She's never really had a pleasant experience and favorable reaction to asari before, other than not entirely appreciating their overall superior attitude, tacking on another level of annoyance when they look down on her both socially and physically.
Doctor T'Soni, on the other hand, is just... Different.
Hale still has to be cautious with her trust, with this whole Benezia business, but there's something about the asari scientist that commands belief and sympathy. She seems genuinely distraught and confused over her mother's allegiance. Hale had to keep biting her tongue that it's always the people you least expect, that end up committing the most horrific of acts.
Suds coat her, and she rinses her loofah before putting it on the hook. She turns the temperature hotter, scalding, a desperate maneuver to cease these thoughts before she carries them out with her into her room. She clenches her teeth and bears the burn, undoing her ponytail before her hair gets thoroughly drenched. She hangs her head forward to let the water beat ferociously upon her back, resting her forehead against the cold tile. Her thoughts are disrupted by a ping on her omni-tool, a vibration of a disc on the back of her hand. She already knows what for, and grins, turning off the water, twisting the ends of her hair to squeeze as much excess water out as she can, and stepping out.
There's a message warning her that she's exceeding her hot water ration. She grabs her towels off the hooks and wraps each one around her hair and then her body, coming out of the bathroom with an exaggerated groan, wary eyes snapping about in search of something blue. The asari scientist has made herself comfortable at the workstation, appearing awkward and tense, as if unsure what to do with herself.
Something tells Hale that T'Soni has trouble with the little term called relaxation.
"Got pinged that I've used up more than my allotted hot water ration," Hale smirks, lifting her forearm and flexing her fist to draw attention to her omni-tool. "I need to find the person in charge of rationing that and let them know that I'm taking super hot showers as practice for when I burn in hell."
T'Soni seems stuck, and then she smiles, but it's a half-assed smile like she's only doing it to be polite. Right. Figuring out her humor is gonna be a tough one too.
"So, anything else in here that catches your fancy?" Hale heads over to retrieve a fresh uniform from her closet, laying it out on her bed. She steals many looks to observe and analyze the asari's behavior, stitching together tiny pieces of trust over the rattled reactions.
"Respectfully, no," Liara admits quietly, eyes ducking down. "I am not much for your... Hobbies, here. I prefer solitude over card games."
"Oh. No worries. You seem like you are, anyways, but you don't have to. Just a shot in the dark with my offer, yeah? Doesn't mean you have to take it."
"Th-thank you, Commander." It brings Liara's head up a little, with a humble smile, though her eyes seem stuck on something, until they're stuck on the wall. "I appreciate it. You're very thoughtful, especially for your crew. It's... Unexpected, but also refreshing to deal with, coming from a human."
It seems they're both debunking the stereotypes of their people.
"Eh..." Hale doesn't know how to take that. She anxiously massages the back of her neck, feeling a bit of warmth trickle in at the base of her throat. "Don't mention it."
What she also finds especially curious that, when she unravels her body towel, the asari jerks around in her chair. Hale stares, confused, until she puts two and two together, trying not to chuckle. Someone who prefers their own company over others probably doesn't get much exposure at all to things like this. Unfortunately, it's going to be a reality T'Soni will have to learn when she gears up with the squad, but for now...
"Sorry, Doctor. Don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm always changing around others, especially when gearing up." Hale starts to put on her uniform. "Military, ya know?"
"Oh, no need to apologize," the asari scientist waves dismissively over her shoulder, turning her head slightly, showing the corner of a serene smile. "I've come to learn that it's something of a pattern among all military service, no matter the species. Understandable, considering the discipline and training one must go through."
"Every military structure is like this, huh? Have you experienced that personally?" She tries not to grin as evil as she feels inside. "Would you want to?" Hale hums, swiftly changing into a fresh pair of undergarments. It's the best feeling after an intense workout. The next is food, starved for carbs, and somehow there in a backalley way that reminds her that she needs to talk to Garrus. The silence doesn't escape her notice, and her mouth curls into a mischievous smile as she wrestles her uniform on. Sure, she doesn't want to make the asari scientist uncomfortable, but neither can she pass up the perfect opportunity to tease.
If T'Soni is going to be part of the crew, then that means she gets equal treatment.
"I hypothesize that the most probable result arising from the profound lack of an answer will be me growing suspicious, Doctor T'Soni."
"I haven't experienced it personally, no." Liara clears her throat. "My mother was involved in galactic affairs and I learned much from her profession, as well as learned that it wasn't the right path for me. Still, as a result, observing cultures and learning their quirks is something I do subconsciously. It's an interplay with my field of interest. Military culture is rather simple to understand. One must only understand the function and benefits of discipline, as well as how to instill it. Breaking a personality's mold in order to shape a new mold helps strip trivial concerns away, encouraging focus in the necessary direction."
That's a lot of prattling on and on, the most the asari has talked. She's dainty, calm, cool.
Time to turn up the heat and seize victory.
"You didn't answer the last part of my question, T'Soni."
"You hypothesized correctly, then."
Hale laughs. "Touché. Y'know, Doctor, I have a short list of people I actually like, and I think you're gonna make that list just fine."