Chapter Twenty-Seven
Daddy Issues

SSV Normandy SR-2, Somewhere in the Terminus Systems

Sam didn't understand Joker's attempt to stamp his personality on the Normandy's cockpit. A frown marred her forehead as she reached out to swat at the objects suspended above their heads. They bobbled frenetically for several seconds before settling back into their dormant state. Her frown deepened. What was the point of the damn things? They were completely impractical, unattractive, and probably against regulations. Realisation dawned. A knowing sigh escaped Sam's lips. She had just listed all the reasons exactly why they were hanging in the cockpit.

"What the bloody hell are these stupid things anyway?" Sam asked Joker. She swatted at them again for effect.

"Hey!" Joker protested. "Go easy. Those are antiques."

"Really?" Sam asked dubiously. When she thought of antiques she thought of those few odd students in her university days who collected music on big round discs. "I can't imagine their purpose."

He snorted. "They aren't supposed to have a purpose. They hang. That's it."

Sam still wasn't impressed. "What are they called anyway?"

"Fluffy dice," Joker replied with a grin.

"Oh," Sam groaned theatrically. "Because they're dice…and fluffy." She made to swipe them again but a glare from Joker stayed her wayward hand.

{I have taken the liberty of informing Jeff that the object is against Alliance regulations,} EDI chimed in. The sudden introduction of her velvety tone to the conversation reminded Sam exactly why she had been so enamoured with the AI's voice when she first arrived on the Normandy. {He has since informed me to cease being a 'party pooper,' although I would argue that simply pointing out his transgression hardly qualifies as spoiling fun. I was merely making an observation.}

"Admit it, EDI, you don't like them either," Joker sighed.

{Their functionality is questionable,} EDI replied – somewhat tactfully for the normally abrupt AI. {And there is a 34% chance that they will cause some sort of disruption during the course of your duties}. EDI went silent for a few moments while Joker glanced up at his ornament with a find smile. {Our discussion on this matter must be postponed; we are approaching the asari vessel. Requesting security confirmation. Enabling docking coordinates.}

As EDI effortlessly switched into business mode, Sam ignored the readouts flashing in front of Joker and chose to peer out of one of the Normandy's viewing ports. At first all she could make out was a nondescript blob off their port side. As the two ships drew nearer, her lips parted in surprise. She had expected to see the unmistakable elegance that marked ships of asari design, instead all she saw was a nondescript, battered freighter that had clearly seen better days. There were no markings, nothing to indicate it was an asari vessel.

"Clearly they're travelling incognito," Sam remarked as she eased herself out of her seat. Although Ashley hadn't issued an order for dress uniforms, she at least wanted to brush her teeth and perhaps even apply a little make-up. After all, it wasn't every day that the Normandy docked with a ship full of asari. "I'll catch you later."

Other than Liara T'Soni, Sam had only spoken to the occasional storekeeper on the Citadel. For all their inherent beauty, the alien race could be fiendishly intimidating. She could already feel sweat forming on her palms. Just great, Sam thought irritably. A ship full of asari commandos practically lands on my doorstep and I'm sweating like a pig. Suddenly hiding in engineering for the foreseeable future sounded like a very good plan indeed.

Almost half an hour later, with both teeth and face scrubbed and a tiny a dab of perfume behind her ear in lieu of make-up, Sam lined up next to the other senior members of the crew. While there was a quiet murmur of anticipation in the air, there was also an undercurrent of apprehension as to what exactly they had signed up for. While the exact parameters of their mission remained unknown, the crew had clearly been told that the mission was off the Alliance's books. That in itself was enough to stir up doubts, especially amongst the new, still untested members of the crew. The old hands would follow Ashley to hell and back regardless of the consequences. Those fresh out of training still had one eye on their future careers. Sam sought out Ashley, hoping to catch her gaze for even a moment. However, the Captain had shifted into her marine persona. Ashley's iron-edged gaze was meant to indicate that she was not to be trifled with, but, if anything, she appeared nervous and unsettled.

Does she know something we don't? Sam asked herself. Just what is the Normandy getting mixed up in? While the prospect of seeing action no longer terrified her as it once did, Sam was smart enough to know when to be scared. Grenier was standing on her right. Something in his expression indicated that he knew, but he simply flashed a reassuring grin that unnerved her further.

"Aren't you a little nervous?" Sam asked quietly.

The affable XO merely shrugged. "What's there to be nervous about?" His eyebrows lifted quizzically. "Don't tell me you're still hung up on meeting asari in person?"

"And you're not?" Sam asked irritably, feeling as though he was mocking her.

"I'm not as young as I look," Grenier replied with a wink. "I've been around the Galaxy a few times."

Sam scowled. "You're still an idiot."

Grenier ignored the insubordination. "Traynor, we're not rendezvousing with a bunch of giggling maidens, these are asari commandos. They're each likely to have a couple of centuries worth of experience of killing people using any and all means necessary."

Unfortunately, Grenier's warning didn't make the asari commandos any less attractive. The interior door opened and a trio of asari stepped through onto the CIC, followed by one familiar figure that sent a murmur of surprise rippling throughout the humans. Javik, the last remaining Prothean and former member of Normandy's crew, strode onto the deck as though he had never left. He immediately locked gazes with the Captain and his thin mouth twisted.

"So he is real," Grenier murmured appreciatively.

"Tevos didn't say anything about his presence," Ashley said coldly as she ignored all pretence at offering a polite greeting to their guests.

The lead commando regarded Ashley with a level stare. Dressed in battle worn leathers, she cut an imposing figure. Her skin was a dark, smoky blue with pink markings covering her forehead and the sides of her face. "Commander Javik is operating with us in an advisory capacity. If his presence offends you, Captain Williams, I would suggest you learn to deal with it." Her expression remained unreadable, but her tone was unimpressed.

There was a quiet, discreet cough. Sam turned to find Grenier with a confused expression on his face. He beckoned her closer. She obliged, shuffling sideways in a conspiratorial fashion.

"Did I miss something?" the XO asked in a worried whisper. "It looks as though the Captain doesn't care all that much for the last remaining Prothean."

"They didn't exactly see eye to eye on something in the past," Sam replied, her own voice barely audible. She did not want to run the risk of anyone overhearing her. Neither Ashley nor the asari captain appeared in the mood for leniency.

Ashley's lips were pressed together in a tight line for several moments. "Fine," Ashley said, watching Javik out of the corner of her eye. "Just keep him out of my way."

The Prothean appeared unperturbed by Ashley's coldness, but it did not keep him from making one of his blunt observations. "Captain Williams? It appears as though your swift rise through the ranks does not reflect your ability as a warrior."

"Ouch!" Grenier whistled through his teeth.

At his side, Sam was nervously looking back and forth between the lead commando and Ashley. While Normandy's Captain appeared a hairsbreadth from losing control, amusement had now settled onto the asari's striking features.

"Although Javik appears to have made his mind, I will reserve my opinion until I see you in action. Tevos has vouched for you, that remains enough…for now," she commented as she extended her hand toward Ashley. "Captain Tasha Kurin."

"Captain Ashley Williams." Ashley's response was abrupt. She took the proffered hand, but in what looked like a crushing grip. Kurin's expression did not waver.

"I served on Thessia during the Reaper War. My unit provided support to Commander Shepard when she made her push through to the Temple of Athame. I never knew why so many of my girls died that day. Never did find out what it was all for. I just tell myself that it helped in some way to win the war."

"I can't answer that for you," Ashley replied. She had been left in command of the Normandy with both Shepard and Liara down on Thessia. Obviously eager to move things along, the Captain turned to her crew. "I'd like you to meet the Normandy's senior crew-"

"We don't have time for pleasantries, Williams," Kurin interrupted, with only a cursory glance at Sam and the rest. "We've picked up a slender lead, any wasted time will see it disappear. I need you to gather what you need and come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere on that hunk of junk," Ashley replied. "The Normandy is-"

"One of the most recognisable ships in the Galaxy," Kurin finished. "For now at least, this is a covert operation. Or have you forgotten how to be a Spectre while you've been playing at being captain?"

Ashley's mouth opened to reply with some choice words – words which would no doubt damage inter-species relations. With an immense display of willpower, she clamped her mouth shut again.

Kurin grinned. "That's settled. Try and bring some clothes that aren't uniforms."

Meanwhile Sam shared a glance with Grenier. Both were trying to fathom whether the conversation had actually played out the way they remembered it. "This is going to be a long couple of weeks."


Omega, Sahrabarik

Shepard awoke to a dull ache radiating throughout her body. Although the ache wasn't particularly painful, she was disgruntled enough to utter a small moan. There was an almost instant response to the sound. An urgent movement rocked the bed slightly. A few seconds later the room was bathed in a soft glowing light. It was bright enough for her to make out Liara's concerned expression, but not so bright that she had to close her eyes.

As the last vestiges of sleep were replaced by a half-hearted sense of alertness, Shepard struggled to remember why she felt like death warmed up. The resulting tableau of memories – mostly involving some aspect of the bathroom – made her realise why the last few days had been repressed. Despite her protests to the contrary, she had managed to catch another bout of simian bacterial flu. As a result she now felt like a dried out shell of her former self, sore in places that would never be mentioned in polite society. As she feebly propped herself up into a more of a sitting position, Liara handed her a glass of water. The cool liquid felt like silk as it slid down her tortured throat.

"The good news is that you are going to be fine," Liara said as she pressed a gentle hand to Shepard's cheek. "The bad news is that, after witnessing all that I have over the past few days, I doubt whether I can ever find you attractive again."

"That's cold, T'Soni," Shepard replied with a tired smile. She handed the glass back. "I guess the next time I think I'm immune to something I should ask Miranda whether she rebuilt that part of me, huh?"

Liara did not appear amused in the slightest. "There will not be a next time, especially not with your cavalier attitude toward a life-threatening illness." When Shepard did not attempt to make a droll comment in reply, Liara continued, "And the next time I see Miranda Lawson she will hear about this. What was the use of spending billions of credits to bring you back when you could be taken out by a simple bout of flu?"

Shepard grinned. She definitely wanted to be present during that conversation. "You know this wasn't a simple bout of flu right?"

"I am not the one making light of the whole situation." The resulting expression on Liara's face made Shepard wish that she had not asked the question. "You may have blocked the memory of the stench from your mind, I do not have the same luxury."

Despite her gentle admonishments, Liara continued to stroke Shepard's cheek. The touch had a definite cooling effect on still-warm skin. It also served to remind her that Liara loved her unreservedly – well, that and the fact that the asari had remained with her over the past few days. Although her memories were hazy at best, she clearly remembered sitting on the toilet whilst Liara held a container in front of her as she heaved. Shepard winced sympathetically.

"Thank you, babe" she eventually said, coating her words in as much sincerity as she could muster. "You could have easily left me wallowing in a puddle of my own filth."

"Never," Liara whispered firmly. She leaned forward to deposit a gentle kiss on Shepard's forehead. When she leaned back, there was a conspiratorial smile on her face. "Clearly the past few days have not improved your dreadful sense of humour. How do you feel?"

"Well enough to make bad jokes," Shepard admitted.

"Please do not stop," Liara said as she folded herself down against Shepard's warm, slightly feverish flank. "I like the jokes. I like you making jokes."

For some reason Shepard found herself overcome by a wave of nostalgia. It had been a long time since she had played the role of the joker. "I used to joke all the time…before Akuze, before everything." A small sigh escaped her lips. "Eventually I came to believe that making light of the situation would compromise my ability to do my job. That it would trivialise the suffering of those around me. Now I realise that we all could have used the laughter." Shepard's arm felt as though it weighed a ton, but she still managed to lift it to drape it over Liara's shoulders. "Whatever is ahead of us, I promise to laugh more, even if it is at my own expense. At the moment though, I can't tell if it's Aria who is the one laughing. When we spoke, before I descended into a vomiting mess, she offered her support for what is to come, whatever that may be."

"You doubt the sincerity of her offer?" Liara asked.

"When it's Aria, I doubt everything she says," Shepard was quick to respond. "Although I get the sense that, this time around at least, she was being honest with me."

"I would be inclined to agree," Liara said softly. "Having Omega taken away from her severely unnerved Aria. She also knows that the Alliance would happily get their hands on the precious eezo here, not to mention the fact that dethroning her would be a major coup."

As Liara nuzzled into her side, on one level Shepard was enjoying the simple moment. On another, her mind was slowly beginning to kick into gear – like a piece of machinery that had lain dormant for too long. Shepard had never favoured the intelligence-gathering side of war. She was a combat soldier. She fought with guns. Data packets and secrets were firmly in Liara's domain. However, without the resources of the Alliance behind her, this new conflict was going to have to be waged in a different way. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she badly needed to replenish her lost strength.

"I might as well do something while I'm in bed," Shepard eventually declared. She even managed to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. "Can you give me access to relevant parts of the Broker network? I think have several months' worth of intrigue and analysis to catch up on."

Liara sat up slightly and flashed a quizzical expression in Shepard's direction, eventually realising that the request was serious. "You do realise that requires reading?" She laughed at the resulting indignant expression on her bondmate's face. "I think I can do better than give you access…after all, it does help to be on friendly terms with the Shadow Broker."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow in response. "Friendly terms?"

"At least for another few days," Liara explained. "While you still look like warmed up death."

"Agreed. Then you're in trouble," Shepard promised. Spending a few days in bed with nothing to do apart from wading through Liara's Intel didn't exactly spell fun, but she was already enjoying the careful attentions of her nurse – especially as it was usually difficult to get Liara to remain idle. Being able to think clearly for the first time in days, another thought crossed her mind. "How's Myke?"

"To tell the truth I do not know. She has not left her apartment," Liara admitted.

Shepard sighed. "I should talk to her, make sure she isn't going to do anything stupid."

"It is Kasos," Liara replied in a matter-of-fact voice. "You can guarantee she will do something stupid."


No one could accuse Mycea Kasos of being heroic. Despite her inadequacies, or perhaps because of them, she was quite content to remain that way. Unimportant, invisible, and expendable. As Shepard had rightly told Aria - a nobody. Her life had been simple. Rather than dwell on the centuries of the lengthy asari lifespan ahead of her, she thought little further beyond her next meal. Over the past few months that life had swiftly been eroded by a sense of purpose. In arriving on Omega Shepard had brought with her excitement and opportunity for the young asari. However, this latest development had changed everything again.

Around her Afterlife pulsed with its familiar animalistic beat. Lurking in the shadows of the club had always been a favourite pastime. Given that she usually lacked credits to drink or indulge in the carnal pleasures on offer, observing was all Myke could afford. It was necessary to remain discreet, lest she be accused of sampling something she had no intention of paying for. She had clear memories of the first time she watched Shepard walk into the club – wearing armour that clearly wasn't standard merc issue, armed to the teeth, and with a litany of fine glowing scars covering her face. Even her companions marked her as different - a human woman too beautiful to be real and a man with a serious expression who seemed bored with everything. Soldiers, mercs, pirates. They came and went in Afterlife. However, none had ever held such fascination as the enigmatic human. Although Shepard's appearance had changed, her physical presence was unmistakable. It was the reason Myke recognised her years later.

Now that same human had made her life inextricably complicated by dragging her into a world in which she didn't belong. Myke stared up at the dimply lit platform suspended above the club floor and felt a chill pass through her body. The better part of the last thirty hours had been spent arguing with herself – going back and forth as to whether Aria T'Loak could possibly be her father. Amidst more tears than she would have cared to admit, she questioned whether her mother could have ever loved Omega's self-appointed ruler. If Aria ever felt anything at all for her mother, how she could bring herself to have her killed decades later? That of course brought about the gut-wrenching thought that there had been no love involved in her conception. More than anything, Myke desperately wanted Liara's information to be wrong.

"How much?"

Realising someone was speaking to her, Myke looked over her shoulder to find a Salarian leering at her. He was wearing a finely cut suit, indicating that his business interests had probably come through the war intact.

"What did you say?" Myke asked. She wasn't interested in being polite.

"How much for you to sit in my lap and rub your tits all over my face for half an hour?" he explained, lips peeling back into a wide grin. "Perhaps a little something more later on?"

"Even if that experience was for sale, I wouldn't sell it to you," she replied tersely. She surprised herself with the steely edge to her voice. "Now scram, before I drop a singularity on you, lizard face."

"Alright, alright. I was just asking!" he protested, lifting both hands in surrender as he backed away. "You learn to be direct when you're trying to cram as much sex as possible into a short life. Sorry!"

Myke watched the Salarian disappear into the crowd so quickly that he might as well have been wearing a tac cloak. Although entirely forgettable, the brief exchange had served to make her blood pump rapidly through her veins. Walking into Afterlife had been a start. This was the final push she needed to make her move.

Her momentary courage almost deserted her as she ascended the first stairs toward the eyrie and found herself facing the same batarian who had taken her to Aria in the first place. Hanek regarded her without sympathy as she stared up at him like a hopeful supplicant.

"I need to see Aria," she demanded, her voice quavering slightly.

The batarian smirked. "Well you're shit out of luck. Aria doesn't need to see you, squirt. Now piss off."

Myke responded by closing the gap between them in a heated rush of blood to the head. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when he placed a hand on the centre of her chest and gave her a shove. There wasn't a great deal of force behind it but it was enough to unbalance her slightly built frame. She lost her balance and toppled backward to the floor, landing hard on her back. Pain arced through her body and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She dragged herself up into a sitting position, clutching at her wounded shoulder.

"Does Aria pay you to push people down the stairs?" Myke snarled. "I bet it's a really rewarding job."

Hanek growled as he started toward her. "She also pays me to pummel sense into idiots. You want that?"

"Go ahead," Myke challenged. "I hope it makes you feel better about your pathetic excuse for a job."

"Hanek!" A shout from above drew both their attentions.

When Myke lifted her gaze, she saw Aria herself standing on the stairs behind her hired thug. The Queen had actually deigned to descend from the heights on her account.

"Let her up," Aria continued. "I'm in the mood for something amusing."

As Aria disappeared back to her eyrie, Myke took her time finding her feet. Now that the conversation was happening, she felt terrified at the prospect. Hanek regarded her with unconcealed contempt as she passed, even going so far as to give her a shove up the stairs when she was dragging her feet.

The young asari expected to find Aria surrounded by a handful of bodyguards as per usual. Instead she was stunned to find that they were alone. As she came to a stop and tried to settle into a determined pose, Myke knew that being alone with Aria was not a good thing. She stubbornly tried to match Aria's intimidating gaze, but lasted only a matter of seconds before she was overwhelmed and forced to look at the floor instead. The single overwhelming thought running through her head was that this was the worst idea she'd ever had.

"You've got precisely thirty seconds to amuse me," Aria began. "You can start by explaining why the fuck you are here."

"I heard something," Myke mumbled. "A rumour…"

Aria smirked. "I don't deal in rumours, gutter rat. I deal in eezo, credits and lives. The latter being the only one of the three that is dispensable. Now speak up, or I'll make you squeal like a baby varren on a roasting spit."

"You knew my mother," Myke managed. She hated herself for sounding so pathetic.

"I've known a lot of people, but Omega is a big place. What makes you think I knew her?"

Myke risked a quick glance up. The smirk was still there. Aria was playing with her like a pet pyjak on a leash. No doubt her time was running out. The Queen of Omega would no longer be amused and she would find herself dumped into an eezo vat without ceremony. The difficulty with this was that, despite all the upheaval, Myke was quite enjoying her life at present. Somewhere, she found a tiny scrap of courage. "You know why, T'Loak. You knew her. You know me."

For a heartbeat the music stopped and everything else along with it. As though a deathly silence had descended on Afterlife. The eye of the storm. Myke stood in the middle of it all. Blood pounding in her temples. Still too terrified to look up at the Queen of Omega.

The beat passed and the music resumed in a frantic, pulsating rush. It was as though it heralded Myke's very messy demise. Throughout it all, Aria did nothing except sit in her own silence – coiled and ready to strike. Myke could not bring herself to look up again, nor could she speak despite needing an answer. Almost absently, Myke wondered what Shepard's reaction would be upon finding out that she was dead. Liara wouldn't care of course, but Myke hoped that Shepard would. The thought that one person would mourn for her made her feel slightly better about dying.

"You don't really favour her do you?" Of course it was Aria who spoke first. Her throaty, rich voice sounded out clearly despite Afterlife's pulsing soundtrack. Everything else was dull and quiet in comparison. "Perhaps a little in the eyes, but nothing else. It did not matter where – Omega, Thessia, Illium – Leda's beauty was unmatched. I wouldn't feel bad if I were you, being plain is a mercy. Beauty simply means that everyone wants you. In the end, it destroyed her."

Myke had no images of her mother, other than the slowly disintegrating ones that she kept locked tight inside her. Hearing Leda spoken about by Aria T'Loak of all people drove Myke to bring her gaze back up with renewed defiance. "You're the only one who destroyed my mother. You murdered her," she spat. "You don't get the right to talk about her."

A sharp laugh escaped Aria's throat. "Why is it that children can only see their parents in a perfect light? You know nothing, Kasos, absolutely nothing."

"Then enlighten me, you bitch!" Myke demanded.

Aria sat forward eagerly. A delighted cruelty came across her features. "Do you really want me to unravel your childish fantasies?" Without giving Myke time to answer, she continued, "Leda Kasos was undeniably beautiful, but she was also one of the most calculating individuals I have ever met." Aria chuckled, of course including herself in that list. "She was a merc, both born and bred. You name it she did it all…and all of it without a hint of remorse. She wore her past with pride. By the time she arrived on Omega she had carved a bloody swath across the Galaxy for over two centuries. I knew exactly who she was, what she was capable of, and yet I wanted her regardless."

Aria's face brightened, no doubt recalling the pleasure. Myke felt slightly sick.

"The whole time we were fucking she laboured under the mistaken impression that she was in control. That I was a slave to her beauty like so many others. The whole time she schemed with my enemies, paid off my supposed allies. Everything your mother did was done with the sole aim of coming to power on this station. Everything…and that includes whelping you, her ultimate insurance policy. She thought that you would strengthen her hold over me, leading me to simply bend over and offer my ass to her, along with my entire empire. Well, I didn't give a fuck about some little mercenary spawn. She found that out the hard way. It was Leda that found herself ass up, right before I squeezed the life out of her with my own fucking hands."

"That's not true," Myke whispered with a determined shake of her head.

"Of course it's true you insipid little cunt," Aria hissed. "What the fuck do I have to gain by lying to you? Other than making you cry. You are going to cry now aren't you? Well piss off and do it someplace else. I can't stand snivelling."

The realisation that Aria was actually going to let her leave unscathed should have brought about a sense of relief, but Myke felt only hollow. Before entering Aria's lair, she had been expecting only confirmation. What she had ended up with was even worse. Thoroughly beaten, she backed away from the older asari. She risked turning her back on Aria only when she knew the stairs were just behind her. Her foot poised above the first one as a thought struck her. Just leave, you fool! Myke tried to stop herself, but the thought dug in its claws and wouldn't let go.

"You're Aria T'Loak," Myke said quietly, suddenly looking back over her shoulder. She challenged Aria with one last, defiant stare. "How the hell would someone use you as a sire without your permission? You wouldn't open yourself to that level of vulnerability. Not to mention the fact that you've spent the last fifty years protecting me." Myke drew in a deep breath before continuing, "Despite what she tried to do to you…you loved her."

Myke thought she saw a flicker of something – surprise, anger, or even loathing - pass across Aria's face in the moments before she turned away. However, she did not want to stay to face the repercussions of her words. She fled, taking the stairs two at a time in her haste. Hanek made no move to stop her as she brushed past him and continued running through Afterlife. Myke was careless as she forced her way through the throngs, not even pausing to apologise to those she knocked down. At every moment she expected Aria's retaliation, a gunshot to the back of her skull or to have her feet knocked out from beneath her. She exited Afterlife unscathed. The scent of safety could not convince her to stop running.

Her legs carried her not to her own apartment, but Shepard's. Although Myke knew that Shepard would not expect an apology, she felt a desperate need to offer one. She had behaved like a child over the past few days – from the angry denial of her parentage to isolating herself from her only friend. Confronting Aria had been a colossal mistake and she fervently wished that she could go back to remembering her mother the way she had previously. In her memory, Leda Kasos was depicted as being kind and a loving mother who did not want her only daughter to become a mercenary. Myke slumped against a nearby wall as she tried to make sense of reality. Had it been protection because she was loved, or protection because she was Leda's bargaining chip?

Myke had not moved from this position some ten minutes later, at least not until she heard the door open beside her. She had hoped it was Shepard, but when she turned her head she found only the cool blue eyes of Liara T'Soni.

"Why did you have to tell me about Aria?" Myke demanded, unable to keep from welling up as she asked the question. "Is it because you want another reason for me not to see Shepard? Because you can convince her that I'm working with my father?"

Liara shook her head. "No. Shepard can make up her own mind on whom to trust."

"As you have," Myke pointed out.

"We are asari," Liara replied diplomatically. "The art of subterfuge is ingrained in our blood. By extension we are suspicious and slow to trust."

"You didn't trust me even before you found out Aria was my father." The observation was simple, but it was also the extent of what Myke could deduce from Liara's words. Beyond the thinly veiled hostility, Myke had always found the other maiden difficult to read.

"Would you if you were in my position?" Liara asked with an arched brow.

The only response for several moments was silence. Myke could no sooner imagine herself being a highborn Thessian maiden than she could imagine herself as a gung-ho commando. All she knew was that while other asari had subterfuge, she had honesty. Still, the whole fucked-up situation with her father had since made her realise that it wasn't honesty that kept someone alive, it was power. Honesty was far more likely to get you killed.

"No," Myke replied with a small shrug. "I don't know. But I don't have anyone to lose. Or at least, I didn't before..." A small sigh escaped her lips. Her attempts at winning Liara over faltered. She'd tried, but it was time to admit that she simply didn't have the words to explain to Liara exactly how much she cared about Shepard. At least not in a convincing manner. She stared at Liara hopelessly. "Where is this supposed to end, T'Soni?"

Liara moved closer. She lowered her voice. "Where do you want it to end? I can get you off Omega and provide you with more credits than you can imagine. Enough to last you another nine centuries, to buy you a more than comfortable life anywhere you choose."

Another silence. Myke tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Liara was actually trying to bribe her. On one hand she could have laughed at the absurdity that anyone would actually try to bribe someone so insignificant. On the other she was incensed to think that her friendship with Shepard might be ended so cheaply.

"I will not be bought!" Myke replied with a sudden vehemence. "I take you up on that offer and I'm no better than a fucking merc."

"Your mother was a mercenary," Liara reminded her.

"I'm not my mother," Myke scowled. "And I'm sure as hell not my father."

"Who are you then?" Liara asked quietly.

"What? Who am I? I'm…I don't know!" Myke grimaced with frustration. "Did you know who you were at ninety-six?"

Liara shook her head. "No, I did not. I am…much changed from the maiden I was at ninety-six." To confuse Myke further, she eventually managed a small smile. "You should come inside. You look as though you have not eaten in days, and Shepard will welcome the distraction from her sick bed…or I will welcome having someone else to entertain her. She is one of the worst patients I know."

"Shepard's sick?" Myke's jaw dropped. "When…how? Is she going to be okay?"

"It was not pretty, but it takes more than a bout of flu to take her out – you just need to ask Cerberus…or the Reapers." Liara's eyes actually sparkled with mirth as Myke looked on.

The younger asari shook her head in disbelief. "But…that whole offer? Getting me off Omega. The credits. You were bluffing?"

"Of course." Liara nodded. "Forgive my duplicity, but I wanted to see how you would react."

"And I passed?" Myke asked nervously.

"You reacted as a friend would," Liara said as she made her way back inside.

Myke grinned. The nightmarish conversation with Aria was already a distant memory. No doubt it would rear its ugly head in the future, but for the present she was content to simply be Shepard's friend. "You know, a part of me was kind of tempted," Myke admitted wistfully as she followed Liara. "A luxurious pad on Illium, somewhere overlooking the beach. I'd be surrounded by half naked maidens attending to my every need…"

Liara looked over her shoulder with a disapproving frown and Myke coloured immediately.

"I'm just having you on! Goddess, lighten up a bit, T'Soni."