Shepard,
I've extensively pored through all Cerberus intel that might reference the derelict reaper. There's no mention of it anywhere, from which I infer the Illusive Man hadn't yet come into possession of the knowledge of its location. Lucky you, you get to be the first boots on the ground.
I advise swiftness, Commander. That IFF is just lying around for someone else to stumble into.
Miranda Lawson
Shepard read the message without great enthusiasm, but accepted the favorable circumstances for a less-than-pleasant mission. She supposed this meant it was time to put their plan into motion, regarding both Legion and the trip through the Omega 4 relay. No way the collectors would get far into the galaxy under her watch.
Some others, however, had slightly different takes on the situation.
"We can't just waltz through the relay and expect to find the exact same thing we did last time," Garrus was pointing out, on the far end of the table around which Shepard had congregated her team. Once again, Thane was the only one not invited, and she just hoped he didn't think to go visit the CIC in search of the missing people. "What if the collector base was moved? I dunno how much progress they could make building a reaper in a year, but they needed the humans from the colonies to do it, right? They haven't started harvesting yet."
"Lola'd be tearing heads off if they had."
"They shouldn't start for a couple of months yet," she predicted. "But Garrus is right. No way I'm going through that relay until I'm sure we're in the exact same circumstances as last time."
"Comfort in familiarity?" Mordin wondered. "You employ this kind of caution for every potential change you make?"
"Preferably."
"How can we be sure of the circumstances?" Nihlus wondered, confused, before Mordin could keep going. "What're you using as a sign we're good to go?"
"The first abduction, I expect," Liara piped up. "We can be sure they'll be brought straight there. The base would have to be in place then."
"So we're letting a colony get taken," Kaidan commented drily. "Nice."
"If I managed to rescue my entire crew, I can manage a colony," Shepard said firmly. "They don't want them dead, and they don't- uh, liquify them for a while after they get taken."
"Liquify," Mordin echoed, sounding disproportionally interested as opposed to disturbed. "Wh-"
James wasn't up for that discussion, however. "Gross. We'll get 'em out. What do we need?"
"A way to get through the relay safely."
"That'd be ideal, yeah. You said something about some reaper friend-or-foe device?" Ashley half-remembered.
"The IFF," Kaidan confirmed. "Got it from some reaper they found, dead from a past cycle, right?"
Tali rapped her knuckles on the table impatiently. "How are we getting that thing anyway? Last time it was pure luck and Cerberus intel. Are we counting on those this time around too?"
"No."
"Then-?"
EDI spoke up then. "I believe I can locate it based on the original coordinates. Perhaps some trajectory vectors must be calculated, but it should not be too distant from where we first found it."
"But why do we even have to track it down?" Garrus protested. "You need that code, EDI? Don't you have a memory of it?"
"The data I have access to is insufficient. I require manual installation of the technology, per protocol of how the software was developed."
That caught Shepard's attention. "Hey, is that ubiquitous to all reaper code?"
"It's a common feature, yes."
"So – when Legion said he had to disseminate his new reaper tech with his people-"
There was a silent pause while everyone processed that. "It may have been a similar situation, yes."
Tali seemed excited by the conversational sidetrack. "Then – there may be ways to get around it? Copies on more platforms, manual installations, or- or piggy-backing off the IO processes that Legion could-"
"Shouldn't we focus on one problem at a time?" Ashley cut in. She looked wary but resigned at the idea of a geth ally. "No offense, I'm glad we might be able to work out a plan to help your- friend, but what's first?"
"Legion's first," Shepard decided, earning the entire room's attention. "We're storming the geth base as soon as we work out an infiltration strategy. The Alliance can send scouting parties to search for the reaper in the meantime, EDI can guide them."
"Yes, Shepard."
"Just tell them to steer clear when they find it."
Nihlus cleared his throat. "Why the geth first?"
"Maximizes the chance that Legion joins us before we jump the relay. Minimizes geth hostility in the galaxy sooner," Liara answered shortly, barely glancing in Shepard's direction to confirm her guess. "I've also confirmed and monitored activity in that station. We have a lock on it now, a window of opportunity, and we should take it."
"We're trashing a geth stronghold to make nice with another geth. Go figure."
Kaidan patted Ashley on the back. "Shepard works in mysterious ways. And those geth are not all the same."
"I know. Just trying to get a rise out of Tali," she provoked, and the quarian slapped her on the thigh lightly in retaliation. "If you think they'll be allies, I'm shutting up."
"Legion sacrificed himself for his people. I have more respect for him than I do for most organics."
"Present company excluded, right?" Shepard said, feigning offense.
"Well, you, for sure. Jury's still out for everyone else."
"Rude," Garrus gasped, mandibles twitching in amusement.
Mordin was observing the pandemonium. "Interesting place in the universe, Shepard," he told her, voice not exactly projecting over the various conversations that had erupted.
"Mine?"
"Meant in general. Crowded ship."
"It's a sprint from here to the end. I'm glad they're all here. And you."
Mordin nodded, looking gratified. "Will prepare for it, then."
He stood up and the rest of the room took that as indication they were dismissed. Shepard watched them as they filed out, pondering what she was – again – putting them all through. No one had raised a peep about it.
She'd lost sight of whether that was a good thing. Sighing, she went down to the crew deck to brief Thane. Needing people to put themselves on the line for her mission never really felt good, though she felt lucky to be surrounded by warriors who saw importance in the same things she did.
It ends one day, she reminded herself firmly. Soon enough, yet another obstacle in her way would be taken care of. The collectors' days were numbered. Step by step, her vision was coming together. She just wished it wasn't so fragile that one unexpected hit could send it all crumbling.
The conversation with Thane devolved quickly, as it was wont to do.
It started innocently enough, with Shepard's observation that he looked thoughtful, after she'd briefed him on their upcoming mission. He took that as an offering of a sympathetic ear, which she was always up for. Far too quickly, however, he led her through the rabbit hole that was his family history, just like last time.
He opened up to her about his son and his regrets – something in his eyes told her he was beginning to struggle with the old ideas of mortality and serving a final purpose. He hadn't mentioned it yet, but it was hard not to think of such things under the circumstances Shepard was providing him with.
It was only when she suggested he touch base that the conversation veered completely off-course.
"What?" Thane said, frowning. "Why would I do that? Have you not been listening? I want him away from me and the path that led me to where I am."
"From your path, sure, I get that," Shepard agreed. "But from you? Are you some sort of plague, Thane?"
"For this purpose, I might as well be."
She shook her head stubbornly. "Shouldn't you try and exercise some parenting? Actively keep him away from that path you're so afraid he might discover?"
"I'm sorry?" Thane asked, possibly offended.
Shepard chewed on her words, trying to come up with a better way to put it. "Think about what brought you here. You got angry. Made some terrible choices," she pointed out. "Drowned in your feelings because you didn't even try to come up for air. Think he's any different? I have no doubt he's suffering for this too." And she wasn't even speculating. Not that Thane knew that.
Thane disagreed. "He's very different. For one, he's a much better person than I am."
"This has nothing to do with being good or bad. Circumstances shape people. He's not immune to that. Get in touch, Thane," she admonished gently. "You never know what you'll regret one day. In a week, tomorrow."
"You're not a safe woman to hang around, that much is true," he teased, but she could see he was taking her seriously. "I'll give it some thought," he relented.
"We'll stop at the Citadel for supply and restock soon. I'm not sure if we'll have another chance to do it before we go through the Omega 4 relay, and who knows what'll be waiting for us there." Shepard did, Shepard knew very well. "It's your opportunity."
"Thank you."
Just then, they were both startled by the sound of the door opening suddenly, and a salarian briskly strolling in.
"Shepard," Mordin called, in the speedy, high-pitched tone of voice he used when he was deeply distressed. "Urgent matter, require your attention."
She followed him out of life support instantly, alarmed. Thane seemed to decide he'd leave it to her. "What is it?"
"Krogan. Okeer. Dr. Okeer, has- must head for Korlus immediately." He was gesticulating wildly, broken sentences a clear indicator of his urgency.
"Something happen?" she asked sharply.
Mordin assented. "Struggling with prototype. Frustrated by something. Angry. Not good. Not sure he will retain faith in his project long enough for it to succeed. Or if he will break terms of agreement."
"No. Not good, no." Shepard was suddenly feeling just as urgent. "This was part of his latest report?"
"Gibberish. Ranting. Rage. Lots of signals, none positive."
"Yeah, okay, I hear you," she said, arriving at the CIC and pulling up data on Okeer's project, reading through it diagonally.
"Recommend visit."
"We can make a stop there before we take on the geth," she readily agreed. "We have to."
"Would like to accompany you."
"Course. Tell Vega to be ready, he'll be on the ground with us."
As soon as Shepard thought she was up-to-date on all relevant info, she hurried to grab her gear and head down to the cargo hold, trusting Joker to get them to Korlus faster than was physically possible. James and Mordin climbed into the Kodiak with her, the former confused and the latter pulsing with agitation.
"Catch me up on what we're getting ourselves into?" Vega requested by way of greeting.
"You remember Grunt, right?"
"Oh, carajo. Say no more."
Steve brought the shuttle in quickly enough, but they hardly needed ground transport given how secure and vast their landing zone was, with the presence Liara was maintaining on the planet. The Shadow Broker's men nodded at them stiffly as Shepard made their way inside the heavily defended perimeter, rather empty for the size of the facility.
Okeer was in fact just as disturbed as Mordin had suggested. Liara had had the right idea, setting up the reports, for which Shepard thanked every deity she'd ever known. When they arrived, they found the lab in disarray, a couple of guards standing a ways to the side like they hadn't noticed a thing. The fact that they were gripping their weapons as tensely as if they were under attack bellied their cool outward appearance. Shepard's arrival seemed to relax them marginally.
Okeer had his fingers clenched on a table, jaw ticking as he stared straight ahead, through the glass at the cement structure outside. They approached cautiously, noting the tank beside him. With a pang, Shepard recognized Grunt inside – eyes closed, asleep, but definitely her krogan. Maybe this had been a fantastic idea after all.
"Okeer?"
The scientist grunted and straightened, turning to her with an annoyed sort of fire in his eyes. "You're back," he greeted, taking note of her squad. "And you've changed up your company. Where's that trigger-happy hothead you brought around last time?"
James glanced at her. "He talking about Williams?"
Shepard allowed the momentary sidetrack. "If you know what's good for you, you won't tell Ash you identified her from that description."
He scoffed at her. "I'm not an idiot." Then, he offered the krogan a menacing glare. "Talk about her that way again and I'll show you who's trigger-happy."
"Stand down, Lieutenant," she ordered sharply. He complied, but the evil glint in his eyes went nowhere. Oh, this particular case of fraternization would have grand consequences, she could tell. "What's the matter with you?"
"Never mind. I take it back," Okeer commented mildly. "The hothead obviously came back with you."
"D'you know how rich it is for a krogan to call anyone a hothead?"
Mordin cleared his throat, trying to drag the conversation back to the point. "Latest report. Indicated… Difficulties."
Okeer's expression flashed with rage. "Difficulties. What a salarian way of putting it. Yo-"
"Enough," Shepard snapped. "Tell me what's going on."
The krogan took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. "I did as you asked," he revealed reluctantly. "Only tested simulations. Only modified one specimen. One tank-bred." He gestured at the tank and Shepard approached it expectantly. "Only it must not have been enough. It can't have been enough."
"Why not?"
"It's not right. It's not in line with the sims. Something's off about it."
"Him," she corrected, analyzing Grunt's blank expression. "What do you mean?"
"Something keeps adding. Subtracting. Rearranging my data," Okeer muttered, and Shepard wasn't sure she was meant to hear it. "Every time, every time. It's not me," he shouted, slamming a fist on the wall and leaving a dent. "It's giving it flaws."
"Flaws," she echoed anyway. "Like what?"
"It's too much. And not enough. There's garbage code, and then code I don't get. Didn't come from me. Didn't come from anyone. Couldn't. It's new, dangerous. Like it developed a personality, for some reason. Not a weak-willed one, either."
Shepard shrugged, hearing Mordin gasp quietly behind her, surprised and clarified simultaneously. "Maybe he is," she said cryptically.
"What's that even supposed to mean?" the doctor snarled.
"Where'd the code come from?"
"Me," Okeer replied, annoyed. "My code, my development, my project. It's all me."
"On a computer?"
Okeer blinked and looked at her like she was stupid. Fair enough. "Yeah, on a computer. D'you expect I use paper or something?"
Shepard shrugged. "I dunno. You eccentric types do strange things."
"Are you entertained by something, Shepard?"
"Watch your mouth when you talk to the Commander, doc," James cautioned darkly.
Shepard glared at her lieutenant in warning, disapproving of the aggression, and turned back to Okeer, who was still doing his best to antagonize everyone in the room. "I'm not entertained by anything. Sounds like your project's reached completion."
The doctor seemed disgusted by the idea. "Completion? That thing is as far from perfect as possible. Only a fraction of the code is peak genetic engineering. The rest is just – nonsense."
"Individuality. Peak performance of a different kind."
Shepard nodded decisively at Mordin's words. "Crack it open, doc."
Okeer looked like he was about to pass out. "I'm not finished with him. That is not the final product."
"You are," James said. "Commander said so."
"Will he wake up if we get him out?" Shepard asked pragmatically.
Okeer slammed a hand on the table. "Yeah, he'll wake up. He'll wake up imperfect."
"Everybody else does it the same way. I'm sure he'll deal." Shepard approached the tank, searching for the hatch mechanism. "C'mon. Get this thing open."
"Get away from it," the krogan snapped, moving to stand between her and the tank. Only the presence of James and Mordin – clearly leaving him outnumbered – seemed to keep him in check. "You think I've worked this hard to let my experiment fail at the last moment? No. He's not perfect."
Shepard considered him. A few silent seconds later, she gestured briefly in Grunt's direction. "He's a krogan, right?"
"So?"
"So I happen to believe there's no achieving perfection. I think he's a fully formed krogan waiting to get out of that tank, and I think you should let him."
Okeer was very far from convinced. "How cute and inspirational. I'm not some starry-eyed marine, Shepard. That bullshit doesn't stick to me, and this is my life's work. It's my legacy. If you think I'm going to let a bunch of soldiers on marching orders disrupt-"
"Legacy can take many forms." Mordin stepped forward. "Something you do a decade ago or yesterday. Always defined by the worst, or the best. Depends who tells the story." He took a deep breath. "Doesn't have to be this."
"What are you on about?"
"Wanted genetically perfect krogan. Model for rest of species, first stepping stone on your path to sidestep genophage."
"He won't even need to consider the genophage. It's irrelevant. A predator without teeth or claws."
"Correct. Does not have to be this way. Does not have to be ignored. Can be cured."
Okeer looked like he wanted to laugh and punch Mordin at the same time. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"Not a joke."
"I oughta kill you."
"War coming," Mordin insisted patiently. "Galaxy needs krogan. Krogan need galaxy. Neither will survive otherwise."
The krogan doctor now looked confused. "And? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Sometimes I figure scientists live in another dimension," James muttered to Shepard under his breath. "The level of disconnect with real world problems is real."
She shook her head and watched as Mordin kept going. "Will need krogan at full strength. Focused on the fight. Cannot do that with genophage. Must be cured."
Okeer sneered. "That's the most convoluted way anyone's ever tried to con me. You think I trust you, salarian?"
"Do not need you," Mordin replied sharply. "Am more than capable of doing it on my own. Offering you a way out. Can tell, not discreet – you want your place back among the krogan. Disgrace wiped clean."
The krogan moved in his direction menacingly, but Shepard was faster, planting herself in front of Mordin. She shoved at Okeer's shoulder when he got too close. "Watch it," she warned. "Way I see it, Okeer, you've got two options here. Take it or leave it."
For a few tense moments, they held their positions, Shepard and Okeer in a glaring contest, while James trained his pistol on the krogan's head and Mordin watched impassively.
"To hell with it."
Okeer swung around violently and approached the tank. Shepard followed him warily, but he was fiddling with the right controls, and soon enough Grunt was dropping to his knees in front of them, coughing slightly and shaking off a strange liquid. As soon as he was out, so was Okeer, disappearing beyond the door without a word.
"Grunt," Shepard called, hastily grabbing his forearm to pull him up. "You feeling okay?"
"Shepard-" he muttered in recognition, eyes rolling around wildly, "-the hell…"
"Welcome back to the land of the conscious," she complimented, grinning, as he straightened. "Ready to head out?"
"Think he might need a few more seconds to adjust, jefe." James sounded amused.
"Nonsense. First time this happened, he had me pinned to the wall almost before I knew what was happening."
"Kinky."
Grunt thumped his chest approvingly, fully responsive now, and expertly ignored Vega. "You had a gun to my stomach faster. That's why you're the battlemaster."
"Right," Shepard assented, lips twitching. "So I take it you are ready?"
The krogan shook his head indignantly. "Slow down, Shepard. I wanna know what in hell just happened. Why was I in a tank again?"
She clapped his shoulder sympathetically, gesturing toward the door. "Your tank was feeding you more than Okeer's data." Like EDI. Whatever was stored on Okeer's databases, the warlord hadn't had full control over it. "How about we talk aboard the Normandy?"
"Where are you taking him?"
Okeer had returned, curiosity evidently overpowering the anger. He and Grunt stared each other down, and they both looked unimpressed, in the worst portrayal of daddy issues she'd ever witnessed. Shepard coughed lightly to break the tension. "I'm taking him with me. Need him on the front lines of this war."
"What?" both krogan said simultaneously.
"We'll talk more aboard the ship, Grunt," Shepard repeated pointedly.
"What'd you just call him?" Okeer asked confusedly.
Grunt sniffed in his direction derisively. "Shepard, you go on ahead. I'll meet you on the Normandy."
"But-"
"I just wanna talk with him for a sec. Right behind you."
Shepard deliberated this in reluctance for a few seconds, but then Grunt made eye contact with her and she gave in easily. "Fine. Don't be long."
"That'll end well," Vega commented, following her out.
"No. It won't," Mordin said.
"Let's just- hope nothing catches on fire."
"What a reassuringly low bar."
Grunt took his sweet time returning to them, but thankfully, Okeer wasn't with him. Since she noted he didn't really seem willing to talk about it, Shepard let him play twenty questions instead. He had plenty of those, having taken notice that he was neither where nor when he was supposed to be, and that she wasn't dead like she was supposed to be either. This revelation earned her a bone-crushing hug and a promise of doom upon her enemies, both of which she appreciated to a degree. She'd missed the little massive killing machine.
His priorities were all in the right places, too. As soon as he'd grasped what happened, he snapped straight back to business mode.
"Let's get to it, Shepard," he boomed cheerfully. Vega and Mordin had disappeared, leaving her to handle their newest addition while putting away her gear in the shuttle bay. "You've got a job that needs doing, people that need killing."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "You're sticking around, Grunt? I figured you'd want a ride back to Tuchanka."
Grunt shook his head. "No. Not while the collectors are running around. Those are my enemies. I'll at least help you deal with those."
"I appreciate it. You're always welcome on my ship."
He looked around at that, taking in the retrofitted cargo hold with some intrigue. "Yeah, thanks. Looks good. New."
"It is, sorta." Grunt hummed, getting distracted by some of Steve's tools, and because Shepard knew that wouldn't go over well, she called him back to her, changing the subject. "What did you and Okeer talk about?"
"Bah," Grunt snorted dismissively. "He doesn't speak my language." He looked disappointed by this.
"Oh?"
The krogan wandered back to her, crossing his arms and looking down pensively. "He's nothing like I expected," he muttered, elaborating. His tone was disdainful. "Weak. Not because he doesn't fight – because he stands for nothing. Only himself. His legacy. Has nothing to fall for, so he will fall of someone else's accord." Grunt's eyes travelled to Shepard's face. "I'll stand with you, battlemaster. Again. Your enemies fight your cause, not your nuisance." He thumped his chest violently. "Worthier."
"Well," Shepard said, dragging out the word for lack of anything better to say, "thanks, Grunt." She patted his cheek affectionately. "Make yourself at home."
He agreed enthusiastically, and she left him behind to become James' problem, taking the elevator up to the crew deck. There would be another task waiting for her on the medbay, she knew.
When Shepard walked in, Mordin was pacing the length of the room, muttering to himself about things she didn't understand. He was alone, so she perched herself on a counter silently, leaning back and waiting him out.
Eventually, he came to an abrupt stop in front of her. "Shepard," he greeted.
"Mordin."
He needed no further prompting. "Have pored through Maelon's data. Promising theory. But what he planned to do – experiments. Horrifying." Mordin took a deep breath. "Did not have the chance to follow through. Small comfort. Foolish comfort." He scowled. "Living subjects. Different species. Voluntary or coerced. Untold horrors to inflict. No second thought. Always for the greater good. Impressive perspective that Maelon must have had. Hard for me to see positive net result."
"Me too."
Mordin glanced at her briefly. "Impossible to comprehend. No answers, painful questions. You could provide some clarity, but you won't."
"No. I won't."
"Very well."
"This question you gotta ask, Mordin," she said gently. "I think you should ask it of yourself."
He straightened, looking pensive. "Did the genophage cause more harm than good in this galaxy?"
"Did it?"
"Harder every day to argue otherwise."
"So you understand."
Mordin closed his eyes. "Not entirely sure I know what the word means anymore."
"How come?" Shepard asked, confused.
"I know what genophage was for. Know what it did, back when it was needed. Don't understand what it does now. No," he backtracked, "lie. Understand more than I wished. Not sure how to reconcile past decisions with present consequences."
She sighed loudly. "Every day offers decisions."
"If lucky."
"Well, then consider yourself very lucky."
He went very quiet for a moment. "You're right, Shepard," he admitted. "Regret outcomes of certain actions. Regret – regret what Maelon became. Between that and- Grunt, is his name? Have new perspective on-" He took a deep breath and gave up on the sentence. "Have new perspective."
"Wanna talk about it?" she asked quietly.
"Almost destroyed data," he revealed, resuming his pacing. "Knee-jerk impulse out of revulsion. Considered perhaps would help more people to keep it." He paused in front of her again, staring attentively. "Correct decision?"
"Yes," she reassured immediately. "You had the right idea."
"Relieved you agree. Had thought you might – reject it on basis of where it originated."
"Can't control that. Can control what we do with it."
"Concur." He inhaled deeply again. "Had clinic on Omega. Helped people. Always wanted – only wanted – to help people. STG, medical studies – serve, assist, work for community. For society, civilization, people. Could not realize when thought veered so disturbingly off-course."
Shepard disagreed. "Sure you did. Why else did you go run a clinic on Omega after the STG?"
"Perhaps part of me understood. Did not matter. All of me worked on the genophage project. Your influence pivotal for this change. Thank you."
"Mordin, I didn't make you understand. I just – pointed in the right direction. You decided to look."
"Matters that you pointed. Think I understand what you expect of me now. Thank you," he repeated.
"Anytime."
Liara was pleased at the resolution of the situation. She relayed to Shepard that Okeer was packing up the base, and that she was relocating the Shadow Broker's resources elsewhere soon enough.
"Perhaps I'll round up this galaxy's most prominent merc organizations with this breather," she mused, a glint in her eyes. Shepard paused, halfway through scrolling over a delightfully lengthy report on Councilor Valern's 'business' expenses on Illium. "Get a few dozen hands over Eclipse, the Blue Suns, and the Blood Pack. Before Aria does."
Her friend was nursing a glass of wine on her bed, for once pondering information in her brain and not in some terminal. Shepard put down the datapad and eyed her warily.
"I'm not about to get involved in a power struggle between Omega and the Shadow Broker, am I?"
Liara laughed, a far-away look in her eyes. "Of course not. You're off-limits, those of us who own a piece of this galaxy know that. Well, the ones with principles. The rest are your problem."
Shepard grabbed her own drink. "I am simultaneously not reassured and unwilling to ask further questions."
"Just sit tight and keep doing what you're doing, Shepard. Everything else gets taken care of on its own."
"Uh-huh," she replied weakly, and dropped the subject entirely, waving Glyph away as she approached another terminal full of scandalously private information. "So Korlus went well, is what we're going to pretend that conversation was about."
Liara nodded dismissively, and then sat forward, putting her glass away. "There is something else." Shepard looked up questioningly at the pause. "It's Javik."
Shepard followed her to her private terminal, attention far sharper now. "Miranda get back to you?"
Liara made an assenting noise somewhere between a disgruntled sigh and an optimistic murmur. "It took so long because she has a lot of files to go through. This op was barely in the planning stages. But they've located his pod, which was half the work."
"What's the other half?"
"Getting it out. Miranda says she can allocate the resources the Illusive Man had already put aside for this."
"How long?"
"I don't know. We'd be working blind. There's no way to read Cerberus' records from last time." She pulled up relevant reports. "I think, for seamless integration, that this should be an Alliance project. It is a human colony. The colonists might be gratified at their presence."
"Okay," Shepard agreed, confused. "So you need me to pull some strings or-?"
"Oh- no, no, I've got that well in hand. Don't worry."
"Right, I won't," she replied in a far too high-pitched tone. "Just don't tell me what information and methods you used to coerce them, I still need to look some of those men and women in the eye over the course of my career."
Liara's lips twitched. "We should stop by Eden Prime when the project is well underway, for a prothean pick-up. In a week or so, maybe." Shepard snorted at the way she phrased it. "And – one more thing, while I've got you here. It would not be a bad idea to visit the Crucible development."
Surprised, Shepard glanced away from the screen to look at her. "Oh? How come?"
"You were in the middle of a war last time, it's understandable that you'd keep your distance. Everyone was busy, hands full with their own tasks. But now, we could use some of that motivational presence for the scientists too. You know, symbolism."
"It- I'll think about it," she promised. "But the collectors, Rannoch, the genophage have to take priority, Liara. You know that."
"Of course. I am merely giving you advance warning. Plenty of it."
Shepard scrutinized her asari friend. Liara seemed relaxed, juggling a million different things seamlessly with stress levels a shadow of what they used to be. "You're in a good mood," she thought aloud.
She shrugged delicately, face unrevealing. "Am I? Perhaps I am. It is good to see things progress exactly as we'd planned them. It's also freeing to have my network back up and running. I feel rather unshackled."
"I like your choice of word, Dr. T'Soni."
Liara grinned at the comm. in her cabin. "I thought you might, EDI."
Shepard finished her wine and made for the exit. "Well, I'm glad."
"I've never felt more- hopeful, for what comes after this conflict," she called softly to her commander's back. "I think it's important you know that."
With a slight smile, Shepard let the door close behind her.
