Small chapter, some people may recognize the drill and the poem, both of which are humbling.
"You don't have to do this Shepard" Liara watched as Shepard paced around the small office. Her strides were short and clipped, her shoulders stiff.
"I do" Shepard glanced at her, pausing momentarily before continuing with her agitated motion.
Liara sighed and walked forward; putting herself directly in Shepard's path and stopping her momentum with a gentle hand on her arm "Let me take care of your face at least" Liara indicated the wound on Shepard's cheek.
"OK"
"Stay there" Liara reached form something in her pocket and frowned as she pulled the last medi gel sachet free. They should have been back on the Normandy by now, but Shepard, having seen the mountain of bodies dragged from C-Sec HQ, had decided there was one more thing she had to do before she could rest. With a sigh, the Asari tore the sachet open and squeezed some of the gel onto her fingertips. "Come" she tugged Shepard forwards with her free hand and smeared the cool gel over the gash on the Commanders face. If it was causing her any pain, she didn't show it.
Liara was about to speak when the door to the office opened and Specialist Traynor walked in.
"Oh" Traynor stuttered as she pulled to a halt "Sorry to interrupt" her eyes darkened with concern when they landed on Shepard "I have your uniform Commander" she waved the heavy coat hangers in the air.
"Thanks" Shepard stepped past Liara and relieved Traynor of the outfit. The motion sent a jarring pain through her right shoulder and she winced, swearing under her breath.
"Are you all right Commander?" Traynor looked between the Asari and the human.
"I'm fine" Shepard spoke through gritted teeth as she palmed the uniform off onto Liara "Traynor, make sure the crew is ready, they have an hour"
"Yes ma'am" Traynor nodded.
"And that means you too"
"But" Traynor hesitated "I'm not really sure I..."
"No excuses" Shepard cut her off "You are as much a part of this crew as the soldiers on the ground, you'll be there, and that's an order"
"Ma'am" Traynor made a motion as if she had something else to say but thought better of it. With a nod she turned on her heel and left the room.
"I think she has a crush on you" Liara lay the uniform gently across the back of the only chair in the room.
"It's not surprising" Shepard smirked at the look Liara gave her "I'm joking. She's a good crew member, I think she's just in awe of the whole soldiering business, most techies are" Shepard shrugged, causing her to wince again.
"You're hurt" Liara accused.
"I think I fell awkwardly, lifting my arm is killing me and I may have neglected to mention it to Doctor Chakwas"
"Yet another reason why you shouldn't be doing this"
"I have to"
"There are many others who could"
"It has to be me" Shepard had already started removing her hard suit, laying it out on the desk piece by piece until she was stood in only her base layer "Now let's get me dressed so I can get this done" Shepard reached out for her uniform, unzipping the bag and pulling out her dress trousers. Carefully, she worked each leg into her trousers and stood by the side of the desk, frowning as she contemplated how to close the elaborate buttons and zippers without moving her arm "I think I might need some help here" Shepard looked at Liara.
"No problem" Liara replied, stepping forward and working the buttons closed, being careful not to touch the taut abdomen beneath the thin compression top. When she'd worked the last golden button closed, she looked around for Shepard's jacket.
Shepard hooked a finger around the belt on Liara's jacket and tugged playfully "I'm sure this is where I should say something about how I wish you were undressing me"
Liara coloured a little as she lifted Shepard's jacket and held it out "You'll have to take off your top Shepard" she frowned "Getting this on is going to hurt I'm afraid"
Shepard sighed and undid her top, grateful for the first time that the compression suits were sealed along the seams rather than pull-over's. When her top was half way open she stopped "Ah" Shepard said, and Liara was positive there was a hint of a blush on her cheeks.
"What?"
"I'm not wearing anything underneath" Shepard replied.
"That's not a problem Shepard" Liara smirked and laughed at Shepard's expression "Take the top off Shepard and put the jacket on. I want us to get this done and be out of here" She paused, her voice quiet, soft "and don't ask me to close my eyes"
Shepard looked at her for a moment, her fingers resting on the last seal of her top. With a tug she released it and pulled it free from the waistband of her trousers. To her credit, Liara busied herself by undoing the buttons on Shepard's dress jacket and tried her hardest not to let her gaze wander.
"Do you want me to do that?" Shepard asked.
"No, you have an injured arm remember? This many buttons would be quite difficult to tackle with only one hand"
"You'd be amazed what I can do with one hand" Shepard's voice was lower, husky. She reached out her hand and Liara stepped away, rolling her eyes and smiling.
"Shepard"
"Don't trust me?" Shepard asked teasingly.
"No" Liara replied quietly "I don't trust myself"
"I do" Shepard whispered, moving closer and placing a kiss on the Asari's lips. She held it, savouring the soft full lower lip exploring hers. After a moment, she sighed with a mix of pleasure and regret. She shook her arm, allowing the compression top to fall to the floor as she stood there, unmindful of her nudity, enjoying the way Liara's eyes widened slightly and her breath hitched "Help me on with that?" Shepard gestured towards the open jacket that hung in Liara's fingers.
"Of course" Liara managed, her throat thick. She held the jacket up and waited for Shepard to insert her good arm. Shifting slightly, she passed the jacket around her back and gently lifted Shepard's injured arm into the sleeve.
"Shit" Shepard growled.
"Sorry"
"Not your fault"
"Still" Liara smoothed her hands down the front of the jacket and slowly started to do the buttons up. When she finished, she lifted her fingers to Shepard's forehead and brushed away a few strands of hair, tucking them behind her ear. She skimmed her fingertips over the wound on her cheek and shook her head at the fading yellow bruises around her eyes "You should be more careful"
"I'm always getting into fights" Shepard gave her a lopsided grin "You should get ready too"
"What?" Liara was confused "Shepard I'm not Alliance"
"I'd noticed" She rolled her eyes "Still, you're part of the crew and you'll be there"
Liara paused "Alright"
"Good" Shepard nodded as she fussed with her sleeve "I'll get my boots and I'm ready to go"
"You're sure about this?"
"Yes" Shepard looked at her, green eyes focuses and clear "I'd be lying if I said I wanted to do it, but it must be done"
"Duty..." Liara muttered, not really understanding why Shepard would put herself through this.
"Something like that"
Tiles clicked under the heel of her boots. Bright shining boots, kept meticulously clean by polishing and over polishing until they gleamed, a mirror of darkness. The Commander kept them clean and polished, a clashing note matched against her usual armoured and dirty appearance.
Traynor thought she looked taller out there in front of the crowd, towering over almost everyone, as if the force of her personality lifted her above them all. She watched as Shepard, in full dress blues and gold, marched forward through the lines of unmarked, gunmetal grey coffins that filled the dock. She looked mean and aggressive; her patched and bruised face set into a hard, impassive mask, her eyes focused on something far away. She was a lean and supple thing, like a high tension wire, her posture giving only the merest suggestion of contained power and quickness.
She kept the click of her polished boots in time with the sombre military song that rang through the comm. system. The song was a dead song, drawn up from history and long forgotten.
The crowd that filled the docks was immense, and men and women from every species crushed together behind the three ranks of the Normandy Crew. The council had argued that the event was in bad taste, that there was too much death already on the citadel and that people wouldn't want to be confronted with more. Shepard had argued her case vehemently, making sure that every c-sec and alliance soldier should have the funeral they deserved. The council, when faced with her wrath, had relented and the crowds had proved her right.
Silence fell as Shepard came to a halt, her right heel coming down with such force it made Traynor wince. The crowd shifted, listening. They listened almost reverently, with a desperation borne of those who know they are severed from their home worlds, who know they will go out and seldom come back.
At Shepard's command the Normandy came to attention, the entire crew standing straight and proud. The Commander looked ahead, past them, and out into the distance as her hand found the hilt of her sword and drew it in one liquid motion. The music stopped and the dock stilled as Shepard swung the blade around in an arc and up, until the flat of the blade lay vertical on her forehead and the tip of her nose. An ancient salute. Her eyes closed briefly before she whipped the blade back down to her side, holding it pointing down, the tip almost scraping the floor.
"They went with songs to the battle, they were young. Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow. They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted, they fell with their faces to the foe" Shepard's voice had the sadness of death in it- the sadness of death before life has finished its work, and she paused to take a breath. For the first time since entering the dock, her eyes wandered, tracing the line of the Normandy crew, meeting each of their gazes in turn. When piercing green met Traynors, the specalists skin tingled, and she swallowed.
"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn..." Shepard's voice cracked slightly, the barest hint of emotion "At the going down of the sun and in the morning. We will remember them" she swung the sword up again, holding it so close to her face that her breath misted the blade "The glorious dead" there was a seconds pause before the sword was sheathed, the blade singing as one minute of silence stretched to two.
Off to the right of the three ranks there was the sound of a harsh boot stamp, and Ashley Williams marched forward, bringing herself to the front of the parade and stopping two paces short of Shepard. She gave the Commander a crisp salute, only bringing her hand down when the salute had been returned "permission to march off ma'am"
"Granted" Shepard nodded as Ashley saluted again, repeating the process before she turned to face the ranks "Parade will march off in column of route, right turn" Her voice was quieter than Shepard's, less sever and without the harsh snap of underlying rage, but the Normandy obeyed, and one solid, united stamp echoed through the dock.
"Parade" Ashley looked at them "By the left, quick, march" and it was done.
