Liara

"Those who break that threshold come only when called, Feron." a harsh voice rang as the door opened and we stepped into the room. It boomed from a bright, almost soft light that surrounded a shadowy, humanoid figure. "You were not called."

The voice could not be defined, and had been greatly digitally altered to the point where I could distinguish neither gender nor species. Yet another artifice to increase secrecy. I did not know if any amount of power could consign me to living a life where no one knew me. A life of complete isolation. How could one wield power in such a way? How could one destroy themselves for the pursuit of information and knowledge, and the wealth gleaned from thence? That level of power would be comforting…but cold. So very, very cold.

"Is any of this real?" I wondered aloud, feeling as though I were in a dream, seeking something that could not be found…something that lay in the hands of someone who did not exist. Except as a shadow, a menace in the darkness. Who wielded a power where one word could end a life.

Before the Normandy, I had never seen true death. I had never known combat. But I did know, now, that there was honesty in the taking of life and the uncovering of knowledge. It had been straightforward, a bullet into a body…a brutal exchange. A piece of the soldier's soul for the victory achieved. This…this power wielded by the broker in the shadows…was as insidious as the evil perpetrated by the Reapers. I could not do it. I could not condone it.

I hate him, whoever he may be. I hate that he plays with those who work for him, that he toys with their emotions and clouds their lives and pervades their consciousness for no purpose except his own protection. It is criminal and sadistic. It needs to be destroyed…the entire construct.

"I don't know." Feron answered the question I had asked. "I have never been this close."

We moved closer towards the platform, and the brightness of the light surrounding it seemed to fade. A bitter laugh echoed and died inside my mind as I saw that the figure was not real, simply another projection, another smoke-screen, another veneer of invincibility. The amount of technology in this room was immense, servers and interfaces the likes of which I had never seen. I would have wagered that the technology in this room outstripped all of that in the Normandy.

I wished that Tali were with me, certain that the quarian would be able to understand the wealth of information that hummed and buzzed and surrounded us. I hoped, at least, that we would find the reasons behind all of this madness…the reason why the dead were not allowed to rest.

"I am awaiting an answer, trader." the Broker spoke again. "What gave you the idea that you can come before me without an invitation?"

"The doubt of your sanity, broker." Feron answered. I could see his fear, but also that he fought through it, and I could respect that. "You began working with the Collectors. That's insanity and suicide in one motion. Is that a simple enough explanation?"

"I find your scruples amusing." the Broker's cold, digital voice held no emotion. "And I see it was not an unwise decision to send the Blue Suns to watch you. Your loyalties have ever been fluid, in spite of the fact that you are a businessman. You know that money and information rule the galaxy. So your sensibilities should be placated when I tell you that the offer made was too good to walk away from."

"I do not understand." I addressed the entity with no body and, I was certain, no soul. "I do not understand how the dead could be consigned to merchandise. I do not understand the selling of flesh and the desecration of the deceased!"

"Liara, wait." Feron hissed, and my shoulders stiffened.

Not this, not again, I won't be fucking stopped one more time!

"Please trust me." he begged, whispering against my crest. "I know you don't, but stall him, please. I need a moment with these systems. I can find everything here about what the Broker ordered—with the Collectors. With Shepard! Just…just give me time."

"Have you not heard, Dr. T'Soni," the Broker said my name and I bristled, "the ancient adage, that wealth overrides the sacredness of death? Morality has no place in my line of work. It is a hindrance, not a help." a low, monotone laugh followed his words, and it chilled me to the bone as well as focused my anger into biotic energy swirling around my hands.

"How…"

"I know who you are." the Broker cut off my words. "I know what you want. And I do not care. I have no personal grievance against Commander Shepard, or any of her compatriots. It is simply sound business."

Biotic energy sworled around me as I approached the terminal at which his representation stood. "For all your secrecy, all your supposed wealth and knowledge, I am actually pleased to inform you that you are so far out of your depth that your pretense of superiority is beyond childish." I hissed. "Shepard died while," a secretive mission we enacted while cleaning up the geth for the Alliance, "searching for evidence of the Reapers, who attacked the Citadel and ripped it to shreds. If you could follow logic to its inevitable end, you would realize that the Collectors are in league with the terror of the galaxy! Why would you risk giving the woman who was our one hope into enemy hands!?"

The monotone laughter had a jagged edge of derision. "You're making too much of this, Liara." the Broker stated, the third entity to use my name as though it was theirs. "It's a corpse. What could they possibly gain from that?"

"If they are indeed simply seeking a corpse, I would be thrilled to provide them with yours!" I hissed, loathing him for speaking of Shepard in such a crude and dismissive manner.

That woman could fill the galaxy with her presence. She could stand in the face of an enemy so powerful we have never known its like, and curse it, and claim victory before even facing it in battle. You do not call that legacy a corpse! In so many ways…She. Still. Lives!

"If only you would show yourself, you goddess-damned coward! Where are you!?" I demanded, staring the Broker's construct in its featureless face, wishing it had eyes so that I could peer to the depths of its soul and rip it to shreds.

"I am where I am needed." the Broker claimed. "And the deal is done, Liara. Tazzik is preparing to make the exchange. This is simply product for payment. All is as it should be, where it is needed, as it was planned. Except for the two of you." the sonorous, digital voice turned cold somehow. "This room connects me to my personal staff on Alignon. I will give the word and they will come. And you will be captured. You will be tortured. If you are working anything but independently, you will give up that information under duress and bloodshed. These are not my usual methods, but on occasion, I find they give me pleasure."

His every word, every thought, sickened me. Biotic energy coruscated around my body, wisping across the floor, indicating the rage I kept barely contained against the entity who pretended neutrality while personifying malevolence.

"Liara," Feron shouted, holding an OSD aloft, "I've got it!"

A primal cry ripped out of my throat as I released all of the pent up rage. It flowed out in a stream of pure destruction. Feron ducked behind a secured console as I reveled in the chaos. I heard the shrieking crunch of metal, the shattering of glass, the dull hum of computers and communications tech warped, twisted, and silenced. The rage shredded out of my body, giving sway to a deeper, swelling power that I wanted to deny.

Grief welled up within me and my heart skipped a beat, sending me to my knees. I parted my lips and I screamed again, a raging sob, ringing for the reasons I stood here, for what had driven me to this planet and this time and this company. Grief for the galaxy that would go unsaved for its ignorance. Grief for those that I had murdered to be here at this moment. Grief for the body of the woman I loved, who would willingly have given of her entire life, but who in death had been cheapened and used as a tool for wealth and personal gain.

Another blast of biotic energy, beyond my control, shook the room, destroying what the first wave had not, and leaving me in a clear-headed state that bordered euphoria. I knew the burdens would return, the rage and grief and love that swarmed within me…but for now, they had been vanquished.

I remained kneeling in the detritus of what had been a place of subterfuge and power. Feron peered out from behind the crumpled remains of the console and stared at me with wide, gold eyes.

A manic smile crossed my lips as I met his gaze. "That felt good."

Author's Note: An immense thanks to all who have read, followed, favorited, and reviewed this fic. I so appreciate your time and your commentary, and I apologize for the erratic updates. My muse has been a witholding monstrosity lately (I did something to piss her off, I'm sure), but I am attempting to update as often as possible. Thank you all so much for your patience, and I hope you continue to read and enjoy.

Bright Blessings,

~Raven