Chapter Nine
Between a Stone and a Hard Place
Location Withheld
Although her recovery was not miraculous by any stretch of the imagination, Shepard regained a significant amount of strength with each passing day. It wasn't merely evident in the increased number of repetitions she could do whilst exercising, her reactions were improving and her body was slowly filling out. Although she still had very little muscle definition, her bones no longer protruded so grotesquely beneath her skin. When she peered at her reflection in the two-way mirror she could clearly see her cheeks to be less hollow and her skin less sallow. Some vibrancy had started to creep back into her previously sunken gaze. The simple act of looking in the mirror no longer dredged up instant revulsion.
Whatever the Catalyst had done to her body, her Cerberus implants had finally been successfully repressed. All evidence of the maze of scars had been erased from her body. It was only in the depths of night that she still felt as though they were there – tearing at her skin.
While Shepard no longer considered herself to be a part of the Alliance, nothing could change the fact that she was a soldier. A sense of military precision returned with her self-controlled exercise regime. Shepard took what care she could in her attire. Her t-shirt was always tucked neatly into the cargos she wore. She was even becoming used to grappling with long hair for the first time in her life, having mastered the art of folding it up into a neat knot at the back of her head.
Following her request from Stone for a varied diet, the pale white goo that she had previously been fed was replaced by meals with actual colour. While they were mostly rehydrated military rations, sometimes they were actually warm. Dried fruit had appeared with her breakfast that morning and an actual chocolate bar came with lunch. In her old life Shepard disliked chocolate, but she wolfed it down as though it was the most wondrous substance ever to hit her taste buds.
They were all small victories in the wider scheme of her incarceration, but they allowed Shepard access to a fraction of hope. While her existence had not become any less precarious and she still half-expected her life to end suddenly, she felt more like an actual human and not some unfortunate waste product that no one knew what to do with.
However for all her gains, Shepard soon found out just how little it took for her to be reduced to an angry, violent approximation of herself. She was filling the time between dinner and her evening shower with something resembling meditation – mostly it involved seeing how long she could remain cross-legged on the cold floor without growing bored. The door clicked open. Although at first she was determined not to open her eyes, she knew the footsteps were too heavy to belong to Dr Stone but too light to be someone wearing military issue boots.
As soon as her eyes opened, her face instinctively twisted into a snarl. She had the distinct irritation of finding herself in the presence of Dr Bryan Heller for the first time in several days. The comment she wanted to make remained behind clenched teeth, but she did not miss the fact that he had entered her cell alone. Although Shepard was still wearing her restraints, it would take her only a matter of seconds to rise to her feet and snap his scrawny neck. She was pondering whether the reprisals would be worth it when she saw his customary obnoxious demeanour slip. He cast a quick glance toward the two-way mirror before setting his narrow shoulders determinedly. Shepard could only stare in disbelief as he drew darted across the room toward her with furtive movements. He seized her wrists and swiftly deactivated the restraints. At the moment that they clattered to the ground, Shepard's response finally kicked in. She surged forward and effortlessly knocked him onto his back. The doctor let out a strangled gasp when she pressed her knee atop his torso and jammed her forearm hard against his throat. His legs kicked beneath her as he tried to free himself.
"You have about twenty seconds before I crush your windpipe," Shepard said in a low voice. "Explain what the hell you're doing."
"No…time!" he gasped.
She applied more pressure. "Not the answer I was looking for."
"Getting you…out of here," Heller wheezed, clawing at her spindly forearm. Without the advantage of gravity, Shepard knew she would not have been able to keep him down. His eyes were bulging with what appeared to be fear. "Two minutes!"
"What about it?" Shepard demanded harshly. She refused to believe a word of what he was saying.
"Gah! Cameras…guards…two minute window!" he spluttered desperately. When Shepard lifted her weight slightly he drew in a wheezing breath and continued. "Every second you spend trying to kill me, is another you could be getting the fuck out of this pit!"
"I think you'll understand why I don't believe a fucking word out of your mouth, you arsehole!" Shepard growled.
"For Christ's sake, the way I treated you...it was all a sham," he pleaded. "My entire family, my goddamn kids...they were taken from the colony on Freedom's Progress by the Collectors. The Alliance didn't do a goddamn thing. The only one who cared was you. You and your crew were too late to save my family, but I knew it was you who stopped the fucking Collectors. Dammit, let me up or you'll kill us both, Commander Shepard."
Shepard did not know why, but she eased the pressure on his neck and eventually rolled away altogether. She was still regarding him warily when he scrambled to his feet with surprising dexterity. He withdrew something from his pocket and held it out for her to take.
"Omni-tool," he said quickly, handing over the device. His gaze darted over his shoulder. "I've got weapons and clothing stashed one floor up. Have I convinced you sufficiently?"
"No," Shepard growled. She rose to her feet and tested the device by flash-forging an omni-blade. "But I'll give you an opportunity to convince me further before I bury this in your chest. Lead the way, Dr Heller."
Less than a minute later, everything that had happened had still not managed to sink in. Shepard found herself squeezed into a narrow service elevator of the type usually reserved for food and tools as opposed to people. Her limbs were folded close against her body and Heller was pressed up against her, his elbow jamming into her ribs. He was so close she could feel his hot, panicked breaths falling on her cheek. Being in such close proximity to the man still made her skin crawl, but a dangerous element of hope was taking hold at the back of her mind.
"Why now?" Shepard demanded in a whisper. "Has something changed?"
"I don't know exactly…but something big has happened," Heller wheezed, already out of breath despite the short distance they had covered. "The military types are nervous. There's been increasing mentions of 'termination.' Although you're just a dumb grunt, surely I don't need to spell that out what that means for you."
"Forgive me if I'm sceptical, Heller-"
"You can be as sceptical as you want when we're out of here, until then I'm going to need you to be our muscle. In case you haven't realised, I'm a doctor not a marine," Heller insisted.
"And I'm not exactly in peak condition!" Shepard hissed as the dumbwaiter finally ground to a halt.
She helped Heller manually slide the door open. When they extracted themselves from the narrow space, Shepard saw that they were in decent-sized kitchen. There were no personnel in sight but a dirty food preparation surface indicated that someone had been in there recently. Ignoring the fact that her bare feet were freezing, Shepard followed Heller. The doctor was thoroughly crap at the art of stealth as his footsteps made audible sounds on the tiles and his breathing was more than loud enough to give them away. Shepard on the other hand moved gracefully, the omni-tool clasped firmly in her palm for quick deployment.
It was her keen awareness that saw movement beyond the kitchen door. Before Heller could react, Shepard surged forward past him. As soon as the door opened and a body moved through the gap, she used her slight body weight to draw the person through. Without pausing to assess what she was up against, Shepard drove her elbow forward and sent the man sprawling. Although she felt a brief moment of hesitation, she extended her omni-blade and buried it deep in the man's chest, through the blue of his Alliance uniform. While Heller uttered a surprised squawk behind her, Shepard clamped her hand over the soon-to-be-dead man's mouth. She knew she could have just as easily crushed his windpipe with her artificial hand, but the thought of doing that felt strangely repulsive. His bright green eyes bulged as bloody bubbled between his lips and her clenched fingers. Shepard forced herself to meet the young man's gaze as he died – wondering briefly if he actually knew what they had done to her or if he was just doing his job.
"You killed him!" Heller whispered in horror as Shepard dragged his body and shoved it beneath one of the counters.
"He was a soldier," Shepard replied. She needed to stay cold or she would fall to pieces. "Death happens."
Heller glanced at his chrono. "The shit's about to hit the fan in less than thirty seconds, depending on how vigilant the next shift is, we may have longer if they don't realise you're gone." He led the way out of the kitchen and into a service corridor.
"They'll know the cameras have been tampered with," Shepard suggested. "I wouldn't count on more time."
"Possibly," Heller said as he moved into an awkward run. He eventually paused outside a door and yanked it open, ushering Shepard inside. "I think haste is of the essence regardless." As Shepard ducked inside, Heller paused in the open doorway. "You'll find warm clothes and a pistol in that black bag. Once you're dressed activate your omni, I've pre-loaded the schematics for this level. Follow the route I've marked out…do not deviate! Don't trust anyone else…and certainly not that twisted bitch Stone."
Shepard frowned as she tugged on a pair of boots. "Stone? But-"
"Especially not Stone!" Heller hissed abruptly. "You may think you have her wrapped around your finger, but that woman is all monster – she's playing you, Shepard."
What the hell kind of game is that? Shepard asked herself – confused as to why the blonde would bother to toy with her in such a manner. She shrugged off the uneasiness that played at the back of her mind. "Where the hell are you going?"
"If I don't take down the defence grid, the shuttle won't be able to get in close enough to lift you off," he explained. "The personnel on duty tonight had a little something extra in their evening meal so they'll be very cooperative."
"To lift me off?" Shepard asked. Her damned fingers wouldn't stop trembling as she strapped the boots up. "What about you?"
Heller actually managed a normal smile. "This was never going to end well for me, Commander Shepard. Once you get outside, I've pre-programmed a beacon into your omni. It'll signal the shuttle. You'll just have to pray that I managed to disable the grid or it'll be a fucking short trip."
"I don't pray, doc. Just make sure you get it done." Shepard finished with her boots and drew out a heavy coat. It was thermal lined, but she would have preferred body armour – a chestplate at the least. "Where the hell are we anyway?"
"Alberta, Canada," Heller replied bluntly. "So you'll be glad of it once you get outside." He glanced again at his chrono. "It'll take me two minutes to get to the grid, another three to get it down. I'll barricade myself in the control room but at the most you've got seven…maybe eight minutes to get out. Good luck, Commander Shepard."
Shepard checked the thermal clip on the Predator he'd given her. She had to resist the urge to shoot him for old time's sake. "I guess I should thank you."
"I had a family once…" Heller sighed with regret. "You can thank me by getting the hell out of here."
As Heller disappeared down a corridor without a glance over his shoulder, Shepard could not shake the awful thought that the whole thing was some sort of sick game. However as she brought up the schematics on her omni, she banished such fears to the back of her mind and began moving.
Shepard realised just how fragile she was when she tried to maintain a brisk jog. The heavy jacket and boots weighed her down at every step. Each breath burned painfully in her chest and she doubted whether she would even be able to lift the pistol if she ran into any Alliance personnel. The death of the young man in the kitchen still ate away at her conscience. How old had he been? Early twenties? Even younger? Her lungs rattled in her chest as she drew deeper breaths. She knew without a doubt that she would kill as many people as it took to see Liara again. As far as she was concerned, everyone in this facility was guilty - whether they were a marine or a goddamn kitchen hand.
Somewhere in the compound she imagined the panic that would happen when they discovered she was missing from her cell. She knew with certainty that it would be brief and quickly replaced by a ruthless efficiency that would not end until they had hunted her down. Shepard was under absolutely no illusion as to the severity of the consequences if she failed to escape.
Shepard paused as the map on her omni led her into a dim open space full crates and what looked like discarded tech. The only illumination came from the dull red glow of power-save lights overhead. It was barely enough to see by at first, but her vision soon became accustomed enough to maintain her pace. She checked her distance. There was a maintenance shaft less than fifty metres ahead of her. It would be a long climb to the surface, but if Heller had been able to carry out his task then she would have a chance. She felt it again, the potentially dangerous pulse of hope.
If Heller actually pulls this off, I might have to think about naming one of my kids Bryan, Shepard mused as she squeezed her body through a narrow gap between two crates. Even though there was very little to her, the bulky coat meant she had difficulty fitting. She heard the hiss of fabric ripping as she caught herself on a jagged piece of metal. Before she could arrest its momentum, a heavy but precariously balanced piece of tech came crashing downwards. Shit!
Although Shepard darted out of the way, the resulting crash reverberated around the space. She continued moving forward when a familiar shape caught the corner of her eye. Shepard was aware of the urgency of the situation, but she turned to see a familiar elegant, slender body suspended between two shackles. Had the individual been human, the position would have been immeasurably painful. However, she was not.
"My god," Shepard whispered in abject horror as she stopped moving altogether. With her mouth parted, she faced the helpless form suspended in front of her. Although her once unblemished carapace was pitted and cracked, the form was unmistakable. The optical visor that usually hovered in front of her blank eyes was absent. As Shepard rose to her feet, the figure lifted her head to look up at her Commander. "EDI."
The A.I opened her mouth to communicate, but all that emerged was a mechanical sound from which no real words could be discerned. With her escape temporarily paused, Shepard scrambled forward over the detritus littering the floor and stopped in front of EDI. Her gaze roamed over the shackles that held each of her arms, searching for some means of release. There was another grating metallic sound as EDI again tried to speak – a series of clicks and whirrs were punctuated by high-pitched tones. Although the A.I's face was as expressionless as ever, Shepard projected her own pain and frustration.
"...leave zzzz..."
The single abrupt word caught Shepard off guard. She shook her head stubbornly as she clambered atop a nearby crate to examine the shackles. "I'll be damned if I'm going to leave you here," Shepard hissed fiercely.
The whirrs and clicks hummed in an agitated song. "Comman...save yourzzzz...plzzz-" EDI's voice cut out, but her head continued to move from side to side as though she was shaking her head.
"No, you're part of my crew, EDI."
Shepard finally located a series of circuits atop the shackle. She shorted one with a tech burst from the omni-tool. A sudden flare of sparks was accompanied by a wrenching sound as EDI's right hand came free. The A.I fell, her body jerking as her feet hit the floor.
"Shepard, you must...leave," she insisted, her voice suddenly clearer. "I am not...fulzzz functional. Motor controlzz are...zzz offline."
"Dammit, EDI, I'll carry you!" Shepard said as she scrambled to the second shackle. However even as the words left her lips, she knew that there was no way she could possibly haul EDI up the maintenance shaft in her current state. It would have been a tall ask had she been fully fit and wearing her hardsuit. "Are you still in contact with the Normandy?" Shepard asked as she recharged her omni for a second burst.
"Negative, when my mobile platform was damaged I lost integration. Zzzzz shadow...of my program remains within the platform but it is...fragmented...brokenzzz," EDI explained. "…worthless."
Shepard opened her mouth to refute the AI's assertion when the lights came on without warning, illuminating every corner of the previously dark space. She heard a sudden, loud crack pierce the cold air. Almost instantaneously something slammed violently into her right shoulder. Her entire body pirouetted through the air – almost gracefully at first until she came crashing down hard on the floor at EDI's feet.
I've been shot, was the thought that registered as she dragged her body behind cover. No shit, Ev. "Fuck!" She hissed as pain laced throughout her entire body. Shepard heard heavy boots thudding urgently on the other on the other side of the space. Although she had difficulty trying to make her limbs respond the way they were supposed to, her numb fingers fumbled for the Predator jammed into the pocket of her coat. She forced her fingers to curl around the hilt and she drew it out. With barely a glance, Shepard fired several shots over the crate. Frantic shouts followed as her pursuers dove for cover.
The first thought that entered her mind was that Heller had led her into the suspected trap, but when she peered over the crate she caught a glimpse of her rescuer being forced to his knees in the distance. The doctor's face was a bloody, almost unrecognisable pulp and she felt a sharp pang of regret as she sank back into cover.
Her soldier's mind analysed the situation within a short space of time. The shot to her shoulder, although agonising, was merely a flesh wound and not bleeding profusely enough to require staunching. With the lights up she could clearly see the entrance to the maintenance tunnel only a few metres from her current position. There was however little chance that she would be able to make it that far. Her glance had confirmed at least half a dozen pursuers, if not more. A shot pinged off the top of the crate, scant centimetres from her head. Shepard responded with a scattering of her own shots. Most were only cursorily aimed, but she heard at least a few grunts of pain and one sharp cry.
"She...pard." Shepard glanced upward to find EDI looking down at her. She knew that the AI's face was technically expressionless, but she could not deny that there was something very human in the way her eyes were half-lidded and her lips left parted. "Go," EDI urged, her finally voice crystal clear.
Again the stubborn shake of her head. "I'm not leaving you behind!" Shepard hissed. Despite the vehemence of her voice and her gestures, the impossibility of saving her crewmember was dawning on her. Shit...EDI, would I leave anyone else behind in this place? Joker...I didn't leave Joker behind.
A scattering of gunfire burst over her head. Shepard responded – this time with only two carefully aimed shots which brought down one target. She knew that they were boxing her in. Her time in which to do anything was fast running out. The difficulty lay in the fact that Shepard had no solution to her current predicament. At least not until she saw EDI make a casting motion with her free hand. From the other end of the warehouse there was the sudden sound of panic. The gunfire was no longer directed at her but at EDI's decoy as it shocked those closest to it with a stunning attack.
"Thank you, EDI," Shepard murmured in the moments before she broke cover.
Without risking a glance behind her, she threw everything she had into the sprint for the maintenance shaft. Her body slammed into the narrow gap. When she expected to feel gunfire tearing through her unprotected flesh, there was instead the ear shattering sound of an explosion behind her. Shepard focused on the ladder in front of her and putting hand over hand to climb. The screams of wounded and dying soldiers served only to drive her upwards faster.
Shepard lost track of how many rungs she grasped. She climbed until the fingers of her right hand were raw and there was almost no strength left in her limbs. Although she stubbornly tried to ignore her wounded shoulder, it became impossible when it sent stabbing pains radiating out across her chest. She forced down the sense of futility in her gut, instead concentrating on one moment after the other. The map on her omni continued to mark out the path and she took turns and various ladders as indicated. Eventually she heard the sounds of pursuit somewhere behind her. The hatch was within sight, it was locked but Heller had obviously pre-programmed the code. When she approached it flashed to green. She threw her body against it, trying to force it upwards. The meagre weight almost threatened to defeat her. The irony was not lost on her as she struggled – so close to freedom only to be denied by the last hatch. With a frustrated scream, Shepard pushed with her shoulders and finally managed to force it upwards.
When she burst through the hatch, Shepard threw herself over the edge. In a tangle of limbs and broken undergrowth, her body crashed down a small slope. At the same time she felt something unfamiliar assault her nostrils – the smell of fresh air. With a grunt of effort she drove herself to her feet and started running. Nothing would work like it was supposed to. Despite the fact that she knew what movements she needed to make to run, her legs felt as though they were working against her. They splayed out at awkward angles, her toes catching on roots and sending her crashing to the ground more than once.
As she ran, Shepard took in the thickly wooden terrain. Towering sentinel-like trees hemmed her in and pressed down on her from above. She pushed herself down a steep, rocky slope. Her legs were moving too fast for any sort of control but she wasn't in a position to care about breaking her ankle. The fact that she had no idea where the hell she was going was far more pressing. Heller had said that there would be a shuttle, but he had also said that he would take down the defence grid. Shouts rang out much too close behind her. Somewhere overhead she heard the distinct whine of a Kodiak drop shuttle. The familiar sound brought back a flood of memories. It seemed like a different time when she'd had the bulky reassurance of her hardsuit and squadmates at her back. She had only ever needed a quick glance over her shoulder to confirm that Liara was with her. The asari's sapphire blue gaze would shine with exhilaration as she responded with a firm nod.
Liara.
Shepard was spent. Her ravaged body was close to giving up altogether but she pushed herself forward until she was almost beneath the shuttle hovering above. The prospect of leaving the underground hellhole behind her was so close, she could not suppress the rampant hope that surged through her body. The shuttle was dropping into a clearing so small its side almost scraped against the foliage surrounding it.
Before she could sigh with relief, her question as to whether Heller had managed to take the grid offline was answered. One moment the shuttle was making a controlled descent, the next it was falling in flames. Shepard froze. It was as though the image was flash-burned into her mind. Although she was aware that the Alliance was closing in on her rapidly she could not make her legs work again, or summon the willpower to fight for her life. Shepard dropped to one knee. She had to force herself to draw in great, gulping breaths just to keep from blacking out. Her eyes slid closed. She saw everything in reverse – the burning shuttle, her failure to save EDI, and the nauseating helplessness that had become her life. Before that the war had consumed her life to the point where she had died twice.
Who the hell fucking dies twice? Most people have the good sense to stay dead.
However throughout that time Shepard had been given the opportunity to know what it felt like to be complete. At the moment that Dr Liara T'Soni had fallen into her arms on Therum, her life had been already falling apart, but she had found something to anchor herself to, a reason to push through. Regardless of how exhausted she was, she owed it to herself and Liara to not give up. Shepard reached out and placed her hand on a nearby tree, feeling the bark dig into the raw flesh of her palm. She gripped and dragged herself back to her feet as her eyes opened. Her legs started to work. It was more of a drunken stumble than a run, but she was moving.
Up ahead she heard the sound of water. It was little more than a quiet murmur at first. As she drew closer, the murmur became a rumble. Shepard pushed toward it and the rumble developed into an almost deafening roar. Even thought she could not see it, she could feel that it was close.
Bad idea, Ev. Although it was the only decision she could make, it didn't mean that it was a good one. I know you like swimming, but this is a really...really bad idea.
When gunfire started punching holes in the trees around her, Shepard knew that she had no choice. She threw herself over the edge without hesitation. Her body launched out over the chasm, seeming to hover above the churning white mess below for a split second. For that brief flash of time she finally felt free. In the next instant she was falling.
When she hit the water it felt like she'd slammed into a hard surface – like stone.
Dr Naomi Stone stepped into the blast radius created by the AI's exploding decoy. A sneer ruined her otherwise beautiful features as she stared at the shattered bodies by her feet. Her fingers curled into fiercely clenched fists, firm enough to drive her nails into her palm. She glanced over her shoulder and her face twisted further when she saw a grotesque grin on the face of the man kneeling behind her. He was rapidly obscured from view as two squads of soldiers filed into the room.
She scowled when they simply stood and stared, awaiting her orders. "For fuck's sake, beta squad get your cocks out of each other's asses and hunt that bitch down!"
As they moved out and Stone turned her attention to Heller, an insistent beeping sounded from her omni-tool. With a frustrated growl torn from the back of her throat, she opened it.
{Status, Dr Stone?} The male voice on the other end was hard and uncompromising.
"Shepard will be under control momentarily," Stone informed him in a hard voice. Damn you, Heller, she ground her back teeth together. You had to choose now to grow a goddamn spine!
{I don't need to tell you what it will mean for you if Shepard manages to escape,} he continued.
Stone was unfazed. "She's wounded and unconditioned, she won't get far. And the traitorous bastard Heller?"
{Deal with him,} was the swift response.
Stone looked up at the nearest Alliance marine. She merely jerked her head toward the now trembling doctor.
A low growl emerged from Heller's throat. "The Alliance will never get away with this. Whatever it is that's got you all pissing your pants, it's out there now. Shepard has friends and-"
A spray of blood and brain matter erupted from the back of Heller's head. Stone looked down in disgust as some hit her white trouser leg. The dead man's body pitched forward. His eyes were still open and staring in some sort of accusation.
"Oh Bryan," Stone smirked, poking at Heller's body with the toe of her shoe. "You misguided fool. I assure you, our secret is not out there."
{And Dr Stone?} There was a brief pause on the other end of the comm. {You have my permission to break Shepard. I don't care if there's nothing left after you've finished with her. She's a liability.}
"Yes, sir." Despite her failure, Stone could not restrain the glee in her tone. She powered down her omni-tool and turned to the remaining squad of soldiers. "Get the hell outside with the rest of the grunts. I want Shepard found within the hour."
She closed her eyes, listening until the last footsteps had faded from her hearing. Once alone, Stone walked the length of the warehouse. Eventually she came to stand in front of the female-like form still trapped by its arm. The thing regarded her without any trace of expression on its ruined face. It sickened Stone that such an abomination had been allowed to roam unshackled.
"Does the phrase 'melted down for scrap' mean anything to you?" Stone murmured – speaking more to herself than the thing in front of her.
It cocked its head to one side. A series of undecipherable sounds emerged from which only three words were spoken with any clarity. "Go…fuck…yourzzzzelf."
Fiordland, New Zealand
Liara watched the soft blue glow given off by her biotic corona as it danced above her fingertips. Although she was controlling the field to an extent, the curls and wisps of dark energy created a unique pattern of their own accord. She stood, watching and marvelling at the power she held. The simple act was something Liara had not done since she was young. However she remembered how it had served as a focal point for her thoughts or something beautiful to stare at in an otherwise dull, dark space.
The training program began slowly. It was a necessity given the ordeal her body was still trying to recover from. She went through an exaggerated motion with her first Throw, sending it arcing across the space only to miss the target. Liara paused and drew a breath as she lined up the next one. Her second attack also went wide. They were both only narrow misses, but in the heat of combat such mistakes were often the difference between life and death.
Focus, T'Soni, she urged herself. For a few seconds, Liara closed her eyes. Flashes of light pierced her eyelids as the next targets formed. The split second she opened them she forced herself to ignore the need for a cooldown and threw two successive Warp attacks. Both slammed into the dead centre of their respective targets. That's more like it.
As the program continued, gradually building in intensity and complexity, Liara began to feel at ease with the movements. It was like slipping back into an old suit she had not worn for some time only to find that her body had changed and it no longer fit as perfectly as it once did. Subtle alterations were needed before she could find a sense of familiar comfort.
In the wake of Aegir's attempt to turn her into a Banshee, Liara had not paused to analyse the effects of the treatment on her biotics. She had first-hand experience that something crucial had changed based merely on the abilities that had suddenly manifested in her repertoire. The biotic charge was, by its very nature, a violently offensive tactic that her old self would have shunned. However during the Battle for Earth and the brutal fight for Omega she had employed it to devastating effect. Her combat style had changed from biotic support to something she had difficulty describing – it was visceral, risky and so far removed from what she once was that she had difficulty recognising herself. There was almost nothing left of the reclusive archaeologist she had been just several years earlier.
Liara's arm snapped downwards, executing another attack with clipped precision. Should I be grateful to Shepard's memory for what I have become…or resentful? Had the Reapers not begun their cycle of destruction, Liara was almost certain that she would still be that individual - scratching around underground in ruins no one else cared about, writing papers that no one read and altogether ignorant of the exquisite pain of loving someone like Shepard - a bright, vibrant flame that scorched everything in its path.
When the initial program ended, a thin sheen of sweat had started to form on her brow but her heart rate had barely increased above its usual resting state. Liara's lust for exertion remained vastly unsatisfied. She padded across to the controls in her bare feet. Although Mack's compound still maintained a temperature that seemed only a few degrees above freezing, she was clad simply in a sleeveless vest that had once belonged to Shepard and a pair of thermal tights. After spending much of the past few days wearing thick jumpers and bundled beneath blankets, the freedom of movement was appreciated. Although she knew that Mack would not approve, she selected one of the most challenging programs and returned to the centre of the room.
This time there was no gradual increase in tempo. As soon as the program commenced, the targets crowded every angle of her vision. There was no time for grace or flair as her movements instead became precise out of necessity. She lost all sense of time as the sweat and heart rate that she had been striving for finally took hold. The beads formed at the nape of her neck and trickled down her back, soaking Shepard's vest.
As the target lights danced around her body, often managing to dart in close before she could deal with them, Liara found a sense of peace that had eluded her during previous workouts. All too often, although she pushed herself to the limits of her endurance, she still had the strength to succumb to an irrational anger. This time it was absent, replaced by a sense of clarity that heightened her senses and gave her an edge despite her weakened physical state.
Liara could pinpoint almost the exact movement at which her serenity shifted. She had attempted a few biotic charges already without ill effect. However when she prepared to throw herself forward again, an opposing force slammed into her. As she aborted the charge her body was literally thrown backwards. Liara stumbled, her legs refusing to work properly before they gave out on her altogether. Her knees hit the ground hard. As she knelt on the cold floor, Liara struggled to process what was happening despite an unrelenting familiarity tugging at her mind. Whatever she was feeling, she was supposed to know it intimately. Yet at the same time something was very wrong.
The darkened room disappeared as her mind slipped into a meld-like state that she had never experienced before. Liara caught snatches of experiences or memories from someone. She found herself struggling for breath as water forced its way into her lungs. It was as though she were drowning in the middle of her compound. Understanding came only when it was too late. At the moment that she was about to black out, her mind finally touched on the elusive, distant partner to the meld. The contact was fleeting, but Liara needed very little to know emphatically who it was. It was the bright burning flame. The other half of her self.
"Evan!"
In that split second everything was torn apart. Her fragile sense of reality crumpled as the rules were suddenly changed. She pitched forward and vomited violently on the floor in front of her. For almost a minute her stomach continued to heave even though there was nothing more to expel. When she finally drew in a gasping breath, the hope that ought to have been soaring throughout her body was muted.
"Goddess….Evan." The whisper grated against her raw throat. Evan, for the love of the Goddess please hold on. I'm coming for you. I promise! There was a brutal disconnect and the meld ended without Liara knowing if Shepard had heard her words.
Behind her she heard the door to the room open and urgent footsteps pounded on the floor. Suddenly Mack was there, gathering her limp body up into his arms. His presence served as an anchor back to her reality. Liara was acutely aware of the stench of vomit clogging her nostrils. She felt nauseous. Even Mack's gentle hold disturbed her. In a sudden display of strength, she wrestled free from his grasp and stood on trembling legs.
"I told you not to push yourself, kiddo," Mack said as he looked up at her with a sympathetic expression on his face.
Liara shook her head. "I didn't push myself." The voice did not sound as though it were her own. It was emotionless, cold. "Shepard is alive."
Mack stared at her incredulously. "Liara…you're only torturing yourself further-"
"Shepard is alive!" Liara hissed between clenched teeth.
Mack was left to scramble to his feet as she suddenly moved past him at a brisk walk. She ignored the chill that had descended over her body in the wake of cooling sweat and left the room. The New Zealander could only watch in disbelief as she returned to the tech that had done nothing but lie dormant. With single-minded determination, she reconnected the power cable. He could see her shivering slightly with the cold, but she was so far removed from caring that she did not notice. As the terminals slowly began to show signs of life, Mack went to retrieve one of his cardigans that he had left lying around. She did not even appear to notice as he placed the over-sized garment around her slender shoulders.
"Kiddo," he began uncertainly. "I'm not so sure this is good for you. What happened to make you think Shepard is alive?"
"I don't know where the hell she is, who has her, or exactly what they've done to her-" Liara felt the knot of fear twist painfully in her stomach. It took every scrap of her focus to keep from falling apart "-but I know unequivocally that she is alive." The haptic interface finally awakened and Liara's fingers began a frenetic dance. "I will find her, and I can promise that whoever has her will live long enough only to profoundly regret their actions…and know exactly what it feels like to be flayed alive."
