Liara

It had been eighteen hours since the Normandy made it through the relay and limped into the hangar bay aboard my ship. I thanked the goddess for the former broker being a paragon of paranoia. The ship had a fully stocked med-bay, outfitted with everything any physician might need for a patient of any species.

I shuddered to think of the ramifications of that…the fact that the various brokers had constructed a facility of that size and scope; its main purpose being the revival and sustainment of prisoners that were tortured for information. Feron had taken one look at the room, turned pale, and left, saying that he absolutely would not step foot in it again. I did not blame him, and I was beyond grateful for his help when the Normandy arrived.

I saw from the first that Miranda had underreported the condition of the ship…and the crew. The men and women exiting the ship looked as though they had been attacked, eaten, and digested by a thresher maw. Exhaustion lined every face; there were many wounded whose injuries had been treated by the most rudimentary and primitive of methods.

Feron and I had assisted as much as we could, following the orders of the medics, as Miranda and Chakwas had immediately rushed the worst of the injured to the med-bay…Serena was with them. I knew that I could trust them to care for her, and that there was nothing that I could do. Instead of waiting to let that worry destroy me from within, I decided to do what I could to help the others.

Garrus had made it through with minor wounds, and he and I worked together, finding places for the crew to stay while the Normandy underwent repairs. He confirmed Miranda's story…the Cerberus loyalist had not only defected, she had gone without rest since the attack on the Collector base, keeping the crew alive and fighting the long distance technological attacks on the Normandy's systems.

Miranda had helped keep them hidden until they had made it to Hagalaz. According to Garrus, Cerberus had sent ships out to every sector, looking for the Normandy. The Illusive Man was not pleased that, not only had Shepard abandoned Cerberus, she had taken Miranda Lawson with her. My beloved had made a grave and dangerous enemy, but she had also made friends worth having. It seemed that every worried whisper carried her name, that those of faith held hands and prayed for her recovery. The humans, hired by Cerberus, an elitist, xenophobic organization, were speaking with the non-humans as though they were friends...and more...as though they were bonded by blood. This change had to have been Serena's doing, for the woman embodied change itself...for the better.

Now, however, most of the crew were getting well-needed rest, safe at last from Cerberus' search for them. Feron had retired for the night, and I was alone, outside the med-bay, left to my worry. The anxiety churning within me was but slightly allayed by the fact that I knew, if anything had gone wrong, that I would have been notified by now.

There is hope. I thought to myself. Serena is, if nothing else, a fighter. And she will fight for me. I know that she will.

I must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew I was looking into the steel blue eyes of Miranda Lawson. The former Cerberus operative looked worse than I had ever seen her before. Her eyes, normally electric and filled with keen intelligence, were exhausted, dim, and almost glazed. Her lips were pale and chapped, her cheeks gaunt and pallid. Her hair, black as the night sky and normally smooth and glossy, was dry, frizzy, and tied back in a hasty horse-tail. Her clear, impeccable skin was covered in a sweat sheen that made her appear ill.

"Is…" I began to ask, but stopped speaking as Miranda nodded.

"Touch and go, but holding her own." Miranda replied, her cultured voice slurred and rasping with exhaustion. "Karin…Karin is sleeping in the med-bay."

The fog of sleep faded and I rose to my feet. "Have the two of you eaten?" I asked. "Is there anything I can…"

"Feron brought us a meal while you were resting. He wanted to wake you, but Karin forbade it. If it…if it isn't too much trouble, I need a shower."

"Of course." I began leading her through the ship. "This ship is not…not very well equipped for housing multiple people, and though I am working on altering that, I've not yet been able to incorporate larger showering facilities. You are welcome to the one in my quarters."

"Thank you." Miranda's voice sounded soft; the gratitude in it true and all but tangible.

Miranda has changed. I do not know when, or to what extent, but she is not the woman I met two years ago. She is not the woman who aided me in capturing this ship. She made the choice to sever her ties with Cerberus, and kept the Normandy from being found. She…she asked me, an alien to her…for help.

I showed her into my room, a place of opulent luxury. I had a suspicion that the yahg had not done this, and that the room's creature comforts were the design of his predecessor. I was certainly not ungrateful for it, as it made living aboard the exceedingly spartan and very empty ship bearable.

"I am afraid there is not much room in the shower area to disrobe." I informed her. "I can leave if you so desire."

I made the offer out of kindness, though in truth I did not want to leave. While I would accept the story of Miranda's defection, I still did not feel that I could trust the woman in a room filled with my personal secrets. Miranda shrugged.

"I am too tired to care." she mumbled, reaching for the zipper of her suit.

I averted my eyes as she peeled down the skin-tight…whatever it was that she wore. I heard the rustling of the material as she worked it off of her body and Miranda's sigh of relief when she was free.

"Bloody hell." Miranda muttered. "Liara, I…I could use some help."

I turned towards her and my eyes flared wide. Miranda Lawson was naked, her body simply perfection by any species' standard of beauty. But the entirety of her flat, toned abdomen was covered in the tell-tale red-brown smear of blood. I bit my lip, wondering where the damage had come from, because she had no visible wounds on her body.

"Where are you hurt?" I asked, walking to the bed and retrieving my medical emergency kit out from underneath it.

"I don't know." Miranda replied. "I think…I think at the Collector's base. I didn't bother to look. There was too much to do, too many wounded. I was the least of my concern, but now…I hate to infringe on your kindness. I know that…"

"Miranda," I used her first name, attempting to reach out, attempting to come to an understanding, "you returned from a relay no ship has ever come back from. You kept the woman I love alive, and for that I owe you a great debt. Helping you with an injury is the least I can do."

Miranda, a woman of few words and perhaps fewer emotions, nodded, but the gesture seemed dim and distant. I watched her, and as I watched, she began to sway where she stood. I got to her just as her knees buckled. I caught her, holding her until her rapid breathing slowed. With great care, I kept my arm wrapped around her waist and helped her walk to the bed, where she lay down with a grateful glance at me.

I saw the wound immediately once her body was at rest. The underside of her right breast had been cut with a razor sharp edge. The wound was red and violet-edged, the scab had cracked in places, and in those fissures I could see the sickly, greenish tinged color of infection. Miranda had indeed ignored the injury completely and, because I knew why she had done so, my estimation of her rose.

"You've a deep cut at the base of your breast." I told her, opening my emergency kit and donning a pair of exam gloves. "It's infected."

"I thought as much." Miranda sounded resigned. "I…I hate to ask this of you…"

"You want your medics and Doctor Chakwas to rest." I finished her thoughts. "I will be more than happy to assist you. The wound is mostly closed. It needs to be lanced to flush out the infection. Would you prefer a local anesthetic?"

"Yes, please." Miranda murmured, closing her eyes.

I removed the can that contained an aerated numbing agent and sterilization compound and sprayed it on the wound. Miranda flinched at the initial pain, but as it began to work, the tension in her body eased. I took a small laser scalpel in hand, placed my hand over her breast and tightened the skin. Then I made the cut.

A vile stench filled the room as blood and pus spewed out of the wound. I grabbed several pieces of gauze and a large syringe filled with saline solution to irrigate the gash. With one hand I depressed the syringe, flooding the injury and bringing forth another wave of infection. I wiped it away with the gauze, wincing at how short a time it took for the material to become saturated with the sick greenish-yellow of pus.

"I don't know how she did it." Miranda broke the silence.

"What do you mean?" I asked when she said nothing further.

"Shepard." Miranda said the name with a note of reverence, awe, and true caring. "The fact that she survived the assault on the Collector base is near miraculous…if you are a believer in miracles. But…but somehow surviving what they did to her? It's impossible."

I bit my lip as I refilled the irrigating syringe with saline and began to flood the wound once more. "What are…"

"Six broken ribs." Miranda answered before I could finish the question. "Puntured lung. She got hit by an energy blast at the Collector base. Some heavy weapon that we acquired a basic model of. This one was...advanced. We didn't know but…the implant that helps regulate her heartbeat was shattered by the blast. There were slivers of shrapnel all through her chest and up into her shoulder. One was three millimeters away from her aorta. One wrong move and she could have bled out internally."

My throat threatened to close and I struggled to breathe, having to clench my hands into fists to keep them from shaking as I continued cleaning the wound, noticing that the blood red, inflamed skin surrounding the gash had lost some of its angriness.

"Goddess." I breathed when I regained the power to speak.

"I don't know how you can do it." Miranda spoke, her voice slurring and I knew that soon, she would succumb to sleep. "I'm glad…I'm glad that you took her back, Liara."

Her words were strange to me. I did not understand them. "Can you clarify that for me?" I asked, bringing up my omni-tool and running a scan.

The scan returned clean, so I removed my soiled gloves and put on a new pair before taking the tube of medi-gel and carefully applying it to the injury.

"I'm in love with her, Liara." Miranda confessed. "At first it was…it was an order. The Illusive Man ordered me to attempt to seduce her, so that she would stay with Cerberus but…but it became more, to me. She's so strong and charismatic, but she was wholly devoted to you. I hated you, first for professional reasons, then personal. But I know now, Liara...I know now that I can't love her."

I bristled at the statement, disliking the intimation that Shepard could not be loved. In my fogged mind, it sounded as if Miranda believed Shepard unworthy of that affection.

"Why not?" I kept her tone carefully even.

"Because of what she does…what I've seen her do." Miranda whispered. "She doesn't care if she gets hurt in a fight. She risks everything for that win. She went through three shield generators on the Collector base, taking bullets meant for all the rest of us. When we came to Illium, I despised you. You had her and you were throwing it away. I wanted to be you…wanted to be the object of her focused desire. But I need…I need control in my life. I have to know every thing happening at every moment. I need percentages, projections, probability matrices. Shepard can't…can't live like that. I'm in love with her, but I can't accept the way she leads her life. You can, and so…I want to say…as awkward as it seems…thank you. Thank you for loving her so well."

I couldn't speak past the tightness in my throat. In my mind's eye, I saw the grievances between me and Miranda Lawson being buried. I ran an ultrasound wand over the medi-gel, watching the wound seal over. It was not dangerous in itself, and now that the infection had been treated, Miranda would be well in no time.

"You don't have to worry anymore, Liara." Miranda assured me. "I've…I've moved on."

"You should get some rest, Miranda." I told her, drawing the covers over her naked, vulnerable body.

I knew she had only revealed her secrets because of exhaustion and the fact that I offered a kind touch. However, I could not deny that her words had pierced me to my core. I still perceived myself as weak; still harbored guilt for falling into the deep chasm of grief and letting it consume me. Now, here, two years later a woman lauded me for loving the one that she could not truly love. Miranda had, without knowing, given me strength. The strength to close my eyes and rest at last, to believe in the love Serena and I shared and know, that when I woke, Serena and I would be together in the galaxy.

I lay down on the sofa in the room and closed my eyes, whispering a prayer for my lover's continued recovery, and a thanks to the goddess for bringing Serena back to me. Somewhere, in my spirit, lingered the monster of my fear and my pain, but when they came to whisper, when they came with the past to haunt, I had the strength to smile at them, acknowledge their existence, and send them away.