Liara

Feron's ship deserved one description. Small. It held only one acceleration chair and Feron, as the pilot, sat there. I sat on the floor beside the chair, cramped and uncomfortable, my knees drawn up to my chest. Though the atmospheric temperature was comfortable, sweat broke out on my forehead and began to trickle down my face. I kept my head lowered, hoping that Feron did not notice. I did not want questions asked, and I did not want to give an explanation.

All I could think of in this tiny space was the cramped conditions of the escape pod. When I had heard Joker's voice breaking. When he had told us the news that shook everyone present to their very core. I did not think I could ever bear to be in such a cramped space again…I would be forever reminded of that time, the horror, the disbelief, and the heartbreak that had followed.

The heartbreak that remained present, no matter how much I attempted not to focus on it. It hovered in my chest with the lingering ache of a deep bruise. A wound which would know no mending. I had not healed from Benezia's death, but the pain of her loss had grown easier with each passing day. Somehow, I did not believe that the same would be true of losing Serena. Time and distance had separated me from my mother long before her death. But Shepard…we were so new, so very in love, so close…and I did not know how to heal from the wound she had left in my heart.

I hoped that bringing her back, saving her body from the Collector's machinations, might provide some form of catharsis. That restoring her to her own people might provide closure to what had been the happiest and most terrible moments of my life.

"So that's where he's going." Feron's voice broke the silence and stopped my mind from falling into memories that I both longed and had no desire to revisit.

I stood up and looked at the mass relay in front of us, watching Tazzik's ship disappear into the void of space through it.

"How do you know?" I questioned the drell. "He could go to any number of planets in any number of star systems."

Feron shook his head and began to key in coordinates for the leap through space. "The Shadow Broker only has one base through that relay." he said. "On Alignon. That's where Taz is going, and we shouldn't have any problem following him."

"You say that now." I muttered, bracing myself for the leap through space.

The entire ship shuddered as we entered the relay, and the expression on my face must have been one of pure alarm, because Feron looked at me and laughed.

"You look like this is the first time you've gone through a relay." he teased.

"It is the first time I have gone through a relay..." I said, enjoying the shock in his eyes as I paused for effect, "...in a ship that Aria would most certainly define as a 'tin-can' vessel."

"You wound me, Liara." Feron exclaimed, pressing his hand to his chest in dramatic agony.

I found myself smiling, and it hurt. At another point in time, were we not the people we were, with the goal we needed to accomplish, I would have liked the drell very much. I would have befriended him. But our loyalties divided us. Yes, we were here for the same reason, but our motivations were different.

He did not want the Collectors to possess Shepard's body. I wanted…much more than that. I wanted absolution, redemption…to pay for abandoning her aboard the burning Normandy. She would never have done that to me. And I felt I had betrayed her.

That is the gnawing in my gut, the unease in my soul, the tearing at my heart, I tried to convince myself. Once she is safe, those emotions will vanish. I will be able to adjust to my new reality. I will heal from these wounds. Surely that will be so.

As much as the thoughts appealed to me, there dwelt a sneaking suspicion that they might not prove true. My heart had never before been broken. I did not know how to mend it. And I did not know how to forget. Trying to reclaim Shepard would only be a distraction for as long as the mission lasted. Afterward…I was wanted on Thessia, had ruined any chance of refuge on Omega…I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I had no future.

"You look deep in thought." Feron noted as we emerged through the relay. "If you're making battle plans, you might consider cluing me in. I do know the area after all."

"I'm not making battle plans." my voice sounded more dejected than I have ever heard it. "I am…sorely out of my depth. In this and in all other things. And I am so very tired."

"It will take us a little while to get to Alignon." Feron attempted to sound comforting. "I can put the ship on auto-pilot; we can get some rest."

"No." I shook my head. "I do not want to sleep. When I sleep I…" I stopped myself before I confessed more than he needed to know.

"You dream of what you've lost." Feron answered, this time, true compassion etched in his tones. I looked up at him, surprised. "You're not the only one with a past, Liara." he tried to smile, but there was a sorrow in it. "Everyone's lost something…or made mistakes. There's not a single person who doesn't have nightmares."

"Be that as it may…" I remembered the terrible dreams I had been given, dreams of Shepard dying in my arms, or separated from her loved ones in some horrorscape, "…I have no wish to face these."

Feron nodded in understanding. He reached down beneath the pilot's console and withdrew a small box.

"Working for the Broker is exhausting." he opened the box and withdrew a small vial and syringe. "You have to keep alert, sometimes for days on end. While drell require less sleep than most other species, we do have our limits." he plunged the syringe into the vial and filled it. "This helps."

He pushed the air from the syringe until liquid burst from the needle, and handed it to me. I eyed it with distrust. But if he wanted to kill me, he would have done so already. And though every bone in my body begged for rest, I had no desire to revisit my subconscious mind.

"What's in it?" I questioned.

Feron's eyes darkened. "I don't think you want to know."

I gave a breathy laugh as I stared at the syringe. The lights of the flight deck gleamed off of the needle that promised respite and relief.

"You are more than likely right." I replied, pushing the needle into my arm and depressing the plunger of the syringe.

Immediately my head felt lighter; the ache between my temples disappeared. The hazy edges of the ship vanished and everything once more became clear. Strength surged through my veins, every ache and pain faded, and I stood up, looking out into space, ready to face whatever might come. I no longer needed to fear the darkness of my dreams.