Chapter Twenty-Two
The Maiden's Bluff
In doing her best to stifle a yawn, Hannah Shepard feared that she ended up with a twisted expression resembling someone who had just eaten something sour. The yawn passed. She recomposed her features into an attentive expression focused on the small screen in front of her. In response to her yawn, David Anderson offered her a weary smile.
"I can't tell you how much it means to us to have your support, Hannah," he said in his trademark baritone.
Even though the image was poor, Hannah noticed the additional lines etched into Anderson's face. His once dark hair was almost completely grey at the temples. He both looked and sounded exhausted even though she was the one yawning. Nevertheless, the former Admiral's small smile was genuine despite his current situation.
Hannah respected him on both a professional and personal level. Anderson had been her daughter's greatest champion throughout Evangeline's military career. As both a mother and a Naval Officer, she herself had vehemently opposed the Marine Corps as an option. With Evan's academic achievement insufficient to allow her to progress her dream of becoming a pilot, Hannah had pulled a few strings to secure her a respectable civilian staff post on Arcturus. Her headstrong daughter had railed angrily against her interference and had enlisted in the Marines the next day. Hannah had never explained that she hoped that a year or two of hard work in night classes would enable Evan to achieve her dream. The explanation remained unsaid, like so many other things between mother and daughter. Just like the fact that Hannah had fully expected Evan to wash out of the corps, unwilling to accept the hard work and discipline. Instead she had excelled – eventually being fast-tracked for a commission and, on Anderson's recommendation, accepted into the ICT programme. As a Captain, he'd requested her as his XO on the Normandy. Hannah vividly remembered the moment when Evan had called her to pass on the news. Her congratulations had been lukewarm at best, as she expressed her disappointment that she had not been offered a more prominent post. As well as setting history on its course, the significant moment had further soured their relationship.
Now, three years later, Anderson had been forced into hiding by the very organisation to which he had devoted so much of his life. He had been instrumental in leading the fight against the Reapers. His reward was to be hunted for simply trying to speak out. Hannah felt an intense sorrow for what had happened to her old friend.
"Although I don't suppose you're going to tell me where your intel is coming from?" Anderson asked, one eyebrow lifting in curiosity.
"Let's just say that the Shadow Broker has a vested interest in our cause," Hannah replied tactfully.
Both Anderson's eyebrows shot upwards. "You move in interesting circles these days."
"As do we all," Hannah replied with a nod. She had never expected to find herself working for the Shadow Broker. The covert world of conspiracies, corruption, and mistrust had been the antithesis to everything she stood for. These days it was one of the few things that made sense. As one of the handful of people who knew the Shadow Broker's identity, Hannah had complete confidence in Liara T'Soni's judgement and ability. Working for the young asari was the most effective way she could help her daughter. Although she had a long way to go to right decades of perceived wrongs, Hannah carried a sliver of hope that she would be able to start a fresh relationship with Evan. "How are you holding up?"
"With the most recent announcement?" Anderson's shoulders sagged. "Honestly I feel as though I don't know people anymore. How can they accept the fact that democratic elections have simply been postponed for an indefinite period? That there are still no plans to appoint a Councillor to replace Udina? Are those of us who oppose them going mad, Hannah? Are we fighting for something that humanity does not even want?"
Hannah shook her head emphatically. "They're still grateful to the Alliance for saving their lives, for holding everything together in the aftermath. However as soon as they realise how much power they've given away-"
"That's precisely my point!" Anderson interrupted. "Very few people realise that they've given away so much that it will eventually be next to impossible to change. Humanity will be in the grip of a military dictatorship through its own actions. Such a regime will only lead to more wars – this time against our own allies."
"It's not too late," Hannah insisted. "This can still be solved peacefully."
"I'd like to believe you, I really would," Anderson replied. He glanced off-screen. From the nondescript background, Hannah couldn't tell where on Earth he was. "Shit, I've got to cut this short before the conversation draws attention, but it's been good to talk to a friendly face. I know the past eight months have been difficult to say the least, but you're looking well, Shepard. Stay safe."
"You too, David," Hannah nodded. "I'll be in touch when the coordinates for the next supply drop are finalised. Until then, don't do anything stupid."
When the image of Anderson winked out, Hannah was left with just one inactive screen across the array in front of her. The rest were alive with an almost dizzying array of feeds and communiques. She quickly tapped the haptic display and brought up a summary of the most recent news reports from across the globe. Given the stranglehold that the Alliance had over mass communication, all were enthusiastically touting the decision to postpone elections as a positive move. The nation states of Earth would remain united under the Systems Alliance, blithely ignoring the fact that their rights and freedoms were gradually being strangled. Anderson was on the streets with loyal supporters, all stoically doing their best to circulate the truth.
Hannah suddenly jumped when she felt the first touch at her waist. A familiar smell relaxed her a split second later as a pair of sinewy arms encircled her. With a weary sigh, she leaned back into Mack's body, allowing him to take some of the weight off her aching feet.
Mack cast a contemptuous gaze over the news summary in front of them. "You know that rubbish will rot your brain."
"Just because it's rubbish, doesn't mean it isn't illuminating," Hannah replied tersely. Although she was well accustomed to Mack's flippant, almost dismissive manner, it never ceased to vex her – or perhaps it was just the man himself. However, as she swivelled to face him, the sight of his disarming grin was enough to put a swift end to the discussion.
"Well, you need to stop 'illuminating' stuff for the day," Mack pointed out as she sagged against him. "You're almost dead on your feet."
Hannah shook her head stubbornly. "I still need to take reports from Agents Halla and Curtis. They're both due after 0100. I promise I'll go to bed once I've dealt with them."
Mack wouldn't be budged. "I'll take the reports, you're hitting the sack, babe."
A wry smile crossed her face. It had been over three decades since anyone had called her 'babe.' Although a part of her wanted to put her foot down and tell him to piss off, her eyelids felt like they had weighted strings pulling them downward.
"You'll be professional?" Hannah asked dubiously. "I recall overhearing a conversation last week when you told someone to 'grow a quad.' I don't know about you, but I don't think that's how an operative of the Shadow Broker ought to communicate."
"I'll behave," Mack grinned. "I promise…at least until I come to bed later."
Hannah thumped her palm against his chest. "You're insufferable. You'll be misbehaving by your bloody self. I'm planning on being asleep."
A chuckle followed, but it was brief. His expression slipped into a composed, serious mask that Hannah recognised as his business face. As exasperating as the man was at times, she could not fault his work ethic. In the long days and nights at the bottom of the world, with only the seemingly endless feeds and each other for company, Hannah was beginning to realise that she might, just possibly, be falling in love with Pericles Macklin. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Hannah extricated herself from his embrace with the pretext of reaching for a glass of water.
"How are things on Omega?" Mack tactfully steered the topic away from dangerous territory. While he waited for her answer, he positioned himself purposefully in front of the haptic display.
Hannah swallowed a mouthful of water and sighed. "Reading between the lines, Evie's bored senseless…but she's safe, so that's all that matters. I never thought I'd say this, but Omega is currently one of the safest places in the Galaxy."
"It's a cesspit…but stable one," Mack agreed. He bit his lip as he considered another thought. "Although it does surprise me that no one has risen up to claim leadership of the Talons. As far as Liara can tell, they're still following Aria – acting as her private security force and further strengthening her already iron-clad rule. I reckon as long as Liara and Evan keep a low profile, they'll stay safe enough."
Hannah offered a wary hum in reply. "That's what I'm worried about."
"They're good kids, Hannah." Mack tried to reassure her. "They'll be fine."
"You do know that Liara is almost twice your age?" Hannah asked with a raised eyebrow.
Mack chuckled knowingly. "I know asari culture pretty well…and in their terms, she's practically still a kid."
"I bet you've known a few asari," Hannah fired back in a snide tone.
He glanced up from the display with a wounded expression on his face. "Hey, don't knock the fact that I am damn gorgeous."
She couldn't stop the grin that creased her face in response. With the puppy dog expression softening his craggy features, he was undeniably handsome. It took all her strength to resist the urge to slide into the narrow gap between his body and the console and offer herself up as a distraction.
"Shut up and concentrate." She said it as much for her own benefit as his. "You don't want to hit the wrong button and start a war."
The warning was stretching the truth. Not only were there no 'buttons' on a haptic display, Mack would probably need to key in at least three or four commands to go as far as starting a war. The flippant comment reminded her of the conversation she'd had with Anderson only a few minutes earlier. Her grin faded as she was sobered by the realisation that the Alliance was already doing its utmost to drive them toward another war. The races that had eventually united to face the Reapers were now fractured. At first it had been each race looking to its own simply for survival, now it was the strong preying on the weak. Hannah couldn't begin to speculate as to what the Alliance was trying to achieve or even why, but she knew that they had to be stopped by any means necessary.
It wouldn't happen tonight however. Hannah boxed up her fears and tucked them away at the back of her mind. Mack glanced across and caught her eye for a moment. She attempted to keep a wistful expression from floating onto her face. "Try and be quiet when you come to bed?" she asked. "Otherwise you'll wake me up."
Mack grinned. "I can't make any promises, sweetheart. G'night."
"Goodnight, Pericles," she offered before turning away.
Despite her exhaustion and her private fears, there was a slight spring to her step. There was nothing 'possible' or 'perhaps' about it. She had undeniably fallen in love with the New Zealander. Any number of elements served to temper her happiness, but foremost amongst them was the question she continually asked herself – did she deserve to be happy?
Omega, Sahrabarik
The former Commander Shepard – N7 Operative, Council SpecTRe, and reluctant galactic saviour – had spent over a month on Omega with little to do and nothing productive to offer anyone. It was a situation that bordered on the implausible. Had anyone in her past life dared suggest that her life would become a semi-permanent holiday, it would have brought a derisive snort to her lips. Yet she now found herself with enough time on her hands to actually be bored. Even as a child she had never suffered from such an affliction. Any free time would be spent skulking around the edges of the flight deck of whatever space station or ship she happened to be on at the time. Shepard had visited Omega's cavernous docks on several occasions but the comings and goings of ships no longer held any fascination for her. She'd travelled to the far corners of the galaxy herself and realised that one place was not that different from another. Bright lights and lavish lifestyles held absolutely no fascination for her. Nor did scenic beauty. The only true wealth in her life had been found in the dusty bowels of a mine on Therum.
It was that meeting that Shepard was contemplating as she watched Liara work. Although she had been standing in the doorway to Liara's office for the better part of ten minutes, her bondmate had yet to notice her. Liara's fingers continued to move across the haptic display, every so often she would make an irritated noise in the back of her throat or mutter a few words under her breath. The one thing she did not do, was stop working.
Shepard had always understood her asari to be something of a workaholic. Unlike Miranda Lawson who valued completion and perfection, Liara simply sought to work for the thrill of the chase. In that way information brokering was not unlike archaeology. Both professions sifted through useless waste to uncover hidden treasures. Both were inherently time-consuming to the point where they swallowed up all semblance of a normal life. On board the Normandy Shepard had never had the time herself to notice this. There had always been something to do, some bomb to disarm or diplomat to save.
On Omega however, everything was laid out in stark bare terms. Liara spent nearly every waking hour at work. Shepard alternated between working out, watching Liara work, and treading the streets of Omega. During the brief time they spent together without other priorities occupying them, their conversation was warm but ultimately hollow. Shepard did not share the anxieties weighing her down and Liara did not press her for answers. Physically they remained close, but always a step away from genuine intimacy. In the small hours of the morning, Liara often fell asleep in Shepard's arms on the sofa. They kissed often enough, from gentle teases to deeper, more meaningful explorations that left them both breathless and craving more. Shepard could see the obvious restraint in Liara's movements because her bondmate had nothing to hide, but her own revulsion she kept well hidden. However her frustrations were starting to surface of late.
Liara, I'm not ready…not yet. Her cheeks coloured as she remembered her own words from an incident a few days earlier. It had started as a single kiss, blossoming as they both responded as they might have in days past. For a few blissful minutes everything had felt as it ought to. Then the anxiety returned – on one level fuelling Shepard's hunger, and on another causing it to go cold with dread. She'd been forced to push Liara away, offering the weak explanation that she wasn't ready. However the truth was that she had been more than ready in the carnal sense of the word. Afterwards, with Liara safely ensconced in her office, she had retreated to the bathroom. There, in the harsh fluorescent light, with her back to the mirror so she did not have to look at herself, Shepard had dragged her own fingers through the heat between her legs. The resulting orgasm left her body sagging against the sink, momentarily relieved but ashamed that she was unable to simply talk to Liara.
The thought was still on her mind when Liara suddenly turned over her shoulder with an expectant expression on her face.
"I was wondering how long you would simply stand there," she commented.
"I thought you didn't realise I was here," Shepard answered. She remained in the doorway despite the demanding ache in her belly.
Liara offered a small smile in return. The simple gesture managed to bring the otherwise dark room alive. "There is a very good reason that you did not train as an infiltrator, Evan. You are incapable of sneaking."
"And I thought it was just because I can't hit the side of a dreadnought with a sniper rifle," was the self-deprecating reply.
"Let me guess…something Garrus told you?" Liara asked.
"Obviously," Shepard said. "No one can offer insults like Vakarian. I came to see if you wanted to go for a walk?"
"It is that time of day already?" Liara knew Shepard's penchant for long walks when she had exhausted all other indoor activities. "As much as I could do with some fresh air-"
"You have too much work to do," Shepard finished for her. She always asked and Liara always said no. "I understand. Anyway, where are you going to find fresh air on Omega?"
"It was intended to be a joke," Liara said with a shrug.
Shepard shook her head. "And that's why there's a very good reason that you are not a comedian, T'Soni." She turned to leave. "I'll be home in time to eat dinner with you."
Liara nodded. "That would be nice."
That was the extent of their conversation – a series of light, almost cheerful exchanges that could have taken place between friends. Shepard could already see Liara's head starting to turn back to her work. As soon as Liara looked away altogether, her bondmate would be gone, replaced by the tireless, indifferent Shadow Broker.
"Liara?" Shepard ventured uncertainly.
Liara paused in her turn, her attention captured for another few moments at least. "Yes, Evan?"
When Shepard swallowed, her throat was painfully dry. "Can we talk over dinner?"
The asari's expression softened. She cocked her head to one side and smiled. For a split second she reminded Shepard someone who was long gone – the archaeologist she had met on Therum.
"We are hardly going to sit in silence," Liara said lightly.
"I don't mean chat…I mean talk," Shepard stressed the word, saying it as though it was something rare and precious. She watched as Liara's expression further changed to the point where her expression was undeniably hopeful. "If you have the time of course."
For the first time in their conversation, Liara's hands lowered from the console and fell to her sides. "We can talk now-"
"Thank you…but no," Shepard said with a definite shake of her head. She wasn't ready. Not in that moment. "Over dinner is fine."
Shepard made a grateful escape before Liara could offer anything further or, worse still, try and embrace her. She needed to clear her head and determine the right words to say so she did not sound as though she was a brief step away from losing her mind. Somewhere she had to have the right words to explain the lingering presence of Naomi Stone's accusation. Even though it had been proven to be a fabrication, Shepard was unable to shake the self-perception that she was capable of such a thing. Although she and Liara were content enough at present, Shepard knew that the stress would eventually eat away at their relationship. Shepard could sense the growing storm on the horizon, and she did not want to go into it without having Liara fully behind her.
Her wanderings took her toward the docks. Although ships themselves no longer commanded her fascination, there were places she could sit and watch that were almost completely silent. She could observe the chaotic hive of activity without listening to the shouts of the dockworkers or the sound of a freighter grinding into its docking cradle. It suited her to imagine watching the sleek shape of the Normandy glide into one of the berths. She missed her ship and its crew.
As she walked, Shepard half-expected Mycea Kasos to find her. More often than not the young asari seemed to know exactly where she was. However today it was Shepard who found Myke.
The actual discovery was hardly miraculous. She had shared this spot with Myke a few weeks earlier so she was not surprised to find her sitting on a rusty bollard. Although Shepard was momentarily irritated that her secluded spot had been usurped, she found it difficult to translate that feeling into action. Myke was hugging her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her forearms in a contemplative pose as Shepard walked into her peripheral vision.
"Anything much happening?" Shepard asked as she stopped a few feet sort of a precarious drop down to the bowels of the docks below.
Myke stretched out her arm and pointed to a small passenger ship. "That's the Anaideia, out of Illium, probably with the usual cargo of dancers and speculators. That one over there, it's definitely elcor so probably from Thunawanuro." She then nodded toward a ship that was unmistakably asari. "That one's a little odd, the asari government doesn't usually deal with Omega so blatantly. It's small so I'm guessing it's a diplomatic envoy." Myke shrugged. "Then you've got half a dozen batarian ships, most probably from Lorek, and the usual quota of pirates and mercs looking to make a profit and piss it away in Afterlife."
Shepard suppressed a wry smile. "Amongst other things."
Mycea turned to look at Shepard. Her frown furrowed the pink markings on her forehead before her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh yeah," she replied, feigning a knowing grin. "That's probably where I should be you know – Afterlife – that asari ship is bound to have its share of maidens aboard. I bet they're looking to experience everything Omega has to offer…"
"What are you sitting around here for then?" Shepard patted her pockets and found what she was looking for. She drew out a credit chit and passed it across to Mycea. The asari simply stared at it. "I'd come with you, but walking directly into Aria's lair wouldn't be the brightest idea I've ever had. Go have some fun."
Dark blue eyes widened in response. "I can't. I mean, I've got stuff to do," Myke babbled, refusing to take the proffered chit.
"What stuff? You're sitting here watching ships and judging from what you've just told me, you've been here a while," Shepard pointed out. "Wouldn't you rather be helping those maidens experience everything Omega has to offer?"
"No!" Myke blurted in horror. She then shook her head rapidly as she turned away from the chit. A ragged sigh followed. "Yeah…but…"
"You were bluffing?" Shepard realised that Myke's initial confidence had been nothing more than a façade.
"Yeah," the asari admitted in a heavy voice. "I wouldn't know what to do with a maiden if one fell into my lap. I'd most probably scream and run like a batarian threatened with a bath. Sorry for lying to you."
Shepard shook her head. "It's fine. I just thought with you growing up on Omega…"
"Hey," Mycea looked slightly offended. "I know stuff, okay. I just haven't done…stuff."
"I won't ask you for advice sorting out my love life then," Shepard said, deftly turning the subject away from the embarrassed Omegan.
"You and Liara are having problems?" Mycea asked, her eyes wide again. "Shit, Shep, I'm sorry."
Shepard had let Liara's name slip several weeks earlier. Given that Mycea had never left Omega, she figured that there was little likelihood that she would recognise the name of one of the great houses of Thessia. It was more than a little risky even if Mycea didn't recognise the name 'T'Soni', but Shepard need to talk to someone. Her relationship with the young asari was the only one she had that resembled a friendship. The only other option had been having a conversation with Hannah Shepard, and that was definitely out of the question.
"It's fine. I'm sure we just need to talk," Shepard nodded to herself.
Myke nodded in enthusiastic agreement. "Talking, yup. I've always found that talking is really helpful."
Shepard couldn't suppress her grin as she glanced across at the young asari. Mycea was also quietly grinning, having mocked her own tendency to bullshit. Both were enjoying the moment of levity when Shepard suddenly felt a shiver down her spine. She immediately recognised it for what it was – a warning. While Mycea remained oblivious, Shepard discreetly tilted her head to one side and caught movement out of the corner of her eye. From her limited perspective, she counted at least three figures – which probably meant there were five or six. She chose not to reach for the Phalanx at her side, instead remaining relaxed and casual.
"Does Aria really need four guys to do her dirty work?" Shepard asked as she folded her arms nonchalantly over her chest.
"What?" Myke thought Shepard was talking to her. When she turned and looked over her shoulder, she almost fell off her perch in shock as a result. "Fuck! Um…Shep, there are four guys behind us."
"Yeah, I know," Shepard replied quietly.
She finally turned around. Her expression remained neutral as she took in as many details as she could in one lazy glance. There were two batarians, one turian, and a bored looking asari hanging near the back. All were decently armed with shotguns or pistols, however only one of the batarians actually held his weapon. He would present a slight problem if the situation got out of hand, as would the asari and her biotics. Given that the topic had never come up between them, Shepard had no idea of the extent of Mycea's biotic training. She was a very young maiden, but then again she had grown up in one of the most dangerous places in the Galaxy.
"Aria's getting tired of waiting for you, she wants to see you. Now," the lead batarian demanded in an uncompromising tone.
"Can't," Shepard replied curtly, she took a small step forward. "Busy."
"Aria doesn't understand the word 'can't.' You'd better hope that your schedule frees up, really fast," he pressed.
"Well Aria should get someone to take a look at her translator," Shepard said, taking one more step forward. At the forefront of her mind she knew that Liara would be pissed. The meeting with Aria was bound to come sooner or later. Today was as good as any other day. However now that she was faced with the meeting, Shepard decided that she did not appreciate being summoned. "Anyway, did I really say can't? I meant won't. So scurry back to your Queen and pass the message on."
"Um, Shep," Myke began uncertainly. "Maybe we should just do as they say?"
"You should go home," Shepard said without taking her eyes off Aria's goons.
"She's not going anywhere." The reply was uncompromising. "You're both going to see Aria."
"The asari's got nothing to do with this, let her walk away," Shepard demanded.
The batarian snorted. "Or what?"
"Or you'll piss me off," Shepard replied with a shrug. She had well and truly realised that she was behaving like a hot-head instead of the trained marine that she was. However the previous weeks of boredom and inactivity were all coming to fruition. At the back of her mind she was ignoring Liara's warnings and willing them to fight simply for the sheer hell of it.
The batarian made the first of many mistakes. He'd allowed Shepard to get too close to him and then further compounded his stupidity by closing the remaining gap between them in a threatening manner. Without warning, her hand darted out and seized him around the throat. She wasted no time in throwing him backwards, sending him crashing down atop the second batarian with the shotgun. Shepard then concentrated on the asari as she was still summoning her biotics. Like someone possessed, she crashed forward, throwing her entire body on her stunned opponent. The biotic attack was stifled before it began as Shepard slammed a fist into her face. Somewhere behind her she heard a guttural, pained yelp and turned over her shoulder to see that Myke had leapt onto the back of the turian and was twisting one of his flanges back at an unnatural angle.
As the asari that had just been hit sank to the ground senseless, blood streaming from a broken nose, Shepard turned her attention to the two batarians. Neither was dazed, just incredibly ungainly as they struggled to their feet. She caught one with a glancing kick across his jaw, sending him spinning straight back to the ground. The second she seized around the throat once more with her left hand, surprising herself with just how effortless it was to feel his windpipe giving way beneath the grip of her artificial hand. All four of his eyes bulged as he struggled to breathe. A few more seconds and she would crush his airways altogether. Suddenly Shepard heard Myke's cry from behind her. The sound snapped her out of her violent trance and she dropped the batarian.
The turian had managed to throw Myke to the ground. He was standing over her with his omni-blade drawn, driving it down toward her unprotected body. Without thinking, Shepard caught the blade in her left hand. It would have carved through her right, but the back of her mind she knew that the left would be unscathed. The blade hit, remained caught for a few moments, before she used her grip on the weapon as leverage to throw the turian backward. She clearly saw him draw his pistol as he fell off balance but everything from that point unfolded in slow motion, even her own moments. It kicked in his hand once. The first shot tore harmlessly into her sleeve. He had just enough time to fire off a second shot that went wide before Shepard was on him. Her fist pummelled into his face, first the right and then the left. A grotesque spray of blood burst from his shattered face, showering Shepard's shirt. She momentarily considered dragging him upwards and throwing him bodily over the ledge, but it passed and she felt a twinge of revulsion at her own actions. Instead she lashed out at the pistol, sending it flying with the toe of her boot.
Shepard surveyed the chaotic scene she had just created. The asari had dropped like a sack when hit and had not moved since. Both batarians were gamely trying to struggle to their feet. The turian was lying unmoving in a pool of his own blood. Although she had not felt it whilst moving, Shepard realised she was exhausted. Her breaths came in rapid gasps and she could feel a beads of sweat clinging to her body. Underpinning everything however, was the glorious sensation of adrenaline pumping through her veins.
She closed the distanced between herself and the batarian who had spoken. When she hovered over him she was pleased to see something resembling fear in his expression. It wasn't necessarily fear of her, but rather of what his employer would do when he returned empty handed.
Shepard dragged him roughly to his feet. "You can run back to Aria and let her know that I will see her when I am ready. I am not some novelty to be summoned. Until then I will continue to live as I have been, quietly and with no fuss." The unfortunately aspect was that she enjoyed the fuss. Her lips twisted into a sneer. "So take your colleagues and leave me the fuck alone."
Even as she watched the battered group pick themselves up, Shepard knew that she had either made a very serious mistake or sent a clear message to Aria. On one hand Aria was the type to respect strength, on the other she did not appreciate her word being ignored.
It wasn't as though I was fucking with Aria herself, Shepard mused as she watched them limp away. Just her goons. She happened to glance down at her hand and saw that the omni-blade had carved straight through her glove. The crystal white flesh beneath was unscathed. She thrust her hand into her pocket before turning her attention back to Mycea. The young asari was sitting on the ground.
"Okay, lesson number one, don't ever do that," Shepard said. Despite her words, she felt pumped. "Fists are only ever a last resort."
Her relaxed attitude disappeared when she saw Myke wince in pain whilst pressing her hand against her shoulder. The asari then drew her hand away and stared intently at the dark purple blood coating her palm.
"Hey...I got shot!" Myke said in an oddly excited tone.
Shepard was on her knees at Myke's side in a heartbeat. Forgetting about her ruined glove and exposed hand, she tore open the sleeve of Myke's jacket and her trained gaze assessed the wound. It was only a flesh wound but she felt rotten to her very core. Her actions had resulted in an innocent bystander being hurt.
"Shit, I'm so sorry, Myke," she whispered in a broken voice. "But your barriers..." Her voice trailed off, it was ridiculous to even mildly blame the asari for not defending herself more effectively. To Shepard's surprise, Myke offered a wry grin in response.
"I'd love to be able to say that my barriers are shit," Myke began. "But I can't do 'em in the first place. I'm one of those broken asari. Y'know, the ones born without biotics. Can't so much as summon a shitty little singularity. But I did get shot...this is seriously amazing."
Shepard stared incredulously as she stripped off her jacket. "It's not amazing, not in the slightest." She tore a strip from the bottom of her t-shirt and used it to bind the wound. Mycea winced, but the grin did not leave her face. "Can you walk?"
Myke uttered a little snort. "Course I can walk! It's not like I've been shot in the leg."
With the wound securely bound, Shepard supported Myke with a firm arm around her waist. Her immediate thought was to get Myke back to her and Liara's apartment. It was safe, secure and, most importantly, she owed it to the young asari to fix everything - especially her broken body. Despite Mycea's bravado, she began slowing down throughout the journey back to the apartment. Shepard eventually scooped her up and carried her the remainder of the distance, still cursing herself for letting it happen in the first place. If only she'd just gone to see Aria, the whole thing would not have descended into a fiasco. She momentarily considered the Queen of Omega, imagining the sneer that would twist her lips when she watched the battered mercs limp into Afterlife.
There was absolutely no surprise when Liara opened the door before Shepard could key in the security code. Her bondmate had no doubt been alerted to their approach. Although the expression on her face was concerned, it was directed at Shepard herself rather than the wounded asari in her arms.
"I'm fine, Liara" Shepard said as she carried Myke over the threshold. "She's been shot. Can you get some gel and clean dressings?"
"Of course." Liara's voice was tight, tinged with suspicion and an undercurrent of anger.
"Is that your bondmate?" Myke asked Shepard as she was set down onto the sofa. Despite the wound, she continued to sound as though she was excited. Liara was gathering their medical supplies. "She's hot. How the hell did you talk her into being with you?"
"If you promise to keep your mouth shut then I'll tell you the full story someday," Shepard said gently. Inwardly she was still reeling.
"Deal," Myke said in a satisfied tone. She lolled back against the soft cushion behind her, grin still firmly fixed in place. "This is definitely the coolest thing that has ever happened to me. Nice pad by the way."
Her enthusiasm did not take away Shepard's guilt. She couldn't look Liara in the eye when she returned with the medi gel and dressings. At one point they shared a look between them. The question in Liara's eyes was obvious. What happened? Shepard simply shook her head in response. Not now.
An overall sensation of fuzziness greeted her when her eyes slowly peeled open. It was a good kind of fuzzy. The kind that came from being warm, comfortable and peaceful. All that was missing was a full belly for the moment to be perfect. Given the way she felt, she was not overly bothered that she was staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. A few rapid blinks cleared the film over her eyes. When she moved her body slightly she felt an odd pulling sensation in her shoulder. It wasn't painful, but it felt as though it ought to be painful. When she gingerly probed at the area, her fingers touched soft dressings. A harder prod finally did result in a sharp stab of pain.
"How do you feel? Do you require more pain medication?"
Mycea suddenly sat up with a start at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Her head swam with the sudden movement. She found herself staring at an asari. Her pale blue face was composed into an expressionless mask. She too had facial markings, but they were unlike Myke's own, limited to dark freckles around her crest line and slashed violet lines stretching down her crest. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue that Myke suspected could be soft. However they were currently hard and uncompromising. There was an element of recognition but it everything still felt slightly cloudy, especially her memories.
"Where's Evan?" Myke asked cautiously.
"Asleep. She was burnt out after your encounter with Aria's envoys."
The events came back in a rush. There were four of them. Myke had watched, helplessly at first, as Shepard had taken them on single-handedly. She had still be watching in awe when the Turian had gone for his pistol. Leaping onto his back hadn't been the smartest thing she'd ever done, but she couldn't watch and do nothing. In the scuffle that followed a few minutes later, a stray shot had caught her in the shoulder. Myke wanted to grin again. Her first fight and she'd walked away from it with a bona fide wound. However the grin would not emerge so long as the stern-faced asari was staring at her. Recognition finally dawned.
"You're Liara, her bondmate," Myke began uncertainly.
"I am Liara T'Soni, yes."
Myke was confused by the manner in which Liara said her name and then stared at her expectantly. Perhaps she was waiting for some form of recognition. Although she knew a great number of the asari on Omega, she had never heard anyone use the name 'T'Soni.'
"I'm Mycea Kasos-"
"Yes, I know who you are," Liara interrupted the attempt at pleasantries. "Or your name at least. Other than that, there is curiously little information available on you."
Her tone was still neutral, but Myke suspected that it was about to turn hard, just like the expression on her face. "Why would there be stuff on me? I don't do anything to anyone. No one gives a shit about me...well, except Evan."
Liara shifted forward, a cloud fell over her features. "Well I care about Evan, a great deal in fact. I can assure you, Mycea Kasos, that if your intent is to threaten her or harm her in any way then you will not succeed. Am I understood?"
"Harm her? I wouldn't dream of-" Mycea protested. She swallowed quickly in fear as she realised Liara wasn't waiting for excuses, but rather an answer. "Yes, ma'am," she replied in a slightly tremulous voice. She had good intentions toward being slightly more audacious under the circumstances, but Liara T'Soni was blatantly terrifying. She squared her shoulders defiantly. "But I won't stop being friends with her."
"And why should you? Evan likes you, she obviously trusts you," Liara continued. "I do not However you can start to earn my trust by not relaying our conversation. This stays between us."
"Yeah, I mean yes...of course Mistress T'Soni," Myke replied eagerly. For the obvious reason, she was desperate for Liara to like her. Instead she was shattered to know that she did not. Shattered and more than a little terrified.
The bellicose expression disappeared as though Liara had simply switched it off. Her entire face softened as a small smile settled on her lips. She was beautiful, kind and warm - traits she had not possessed only moments earlier. "It is just Liara. Now, you must be hungry. Can I offer you something to eat?"
