Chapter 7: The Things We Say
Miranda didn't say a word for the remainder of our session. Before she left, she gave me a copy of the schedule she'd whipped up. If it was accurate, Mordin would be coming along—
"Ah. Shepard. Here to look over data. Good. Already viewed files myself. Let's get this over with. Eager to get back to work."
—any second now. I guess we could get started now.
The first file was a bibliography of Mordin's published articles. Some of it was available to the public, though I'm pretty sure most of the public wouldn't be interested in 'Treatment Modalities Utilizing Redundant Nervous Systems,' 'Dispersal Vectors in Compromised Ecosystems' or 'Disease and Population Stability.' Other articles were classified and restricted to those with STG clearance, like 'Indoctrination Progression and Mental Degradation,' 'Second-Stage Viral Manipulation and Modification' and the various Threat Potential Analysis reports that he'd written on different species. I thought it was kinda short myself. Then I realized it only listed the articles in which Mordin was the first author, so it wasn't a complete list. (1)
There was also a file titled 'Production Credits,' listing Mordin's vid-career. I wasn't surprised to see 'The Pirates of Penzance,' after Mordin's spontaneous ditty. He'd dabbled in Shakespeare, playing such parts as the Lord Chancellor and Polonius in Iolanthe and Hamlet, respectively. There were also several guest appearances on shows such as 'Science Fun Today,' 'Science Round-Table: Rights of the Patient' and 'The Facts of Faith.' I wondered if that last one was done in spite of or because of his soul-searching.
The Shadow Broker had also transcribed some surveillance footage from the medical clinic Mordin ran on Omega. Judging by the timestamp, it had been recorded shortly before I arrived. A bit of speed-reading confirmed it: Mordin had lost yet another patient and was focused on removing the body and sanitizing the table for the next patient—more to prevent infection from something other than the plague. Mordin's assistant, Daniel Abrams was distraught over losing another patient and wanted to leave the clinic to deliver medicine to needy patients. Mordin disagreed, citing the dangers that would inevitably be faced outside the clinic, the fact that they already had more patients that they could handle inside the clinic and that triage protocols to maximize the number of lives that could be saved. Their debate was interrupted by a squad of Blue Suns who were demanding that the clinic hand over all humans. While Mordin went out to 'speak to them,' Abrams grabbed some supplies and left. After Mordin 'dispensed' with the intruders, he returned, discovered Abrams' absence, accepted that he'd made his decision and resumed treatment.
Finally, we got to a STG mission report. That, by itself, indicated just how extensive the Shadow Broker's network was. Salarians basically set the galactic gold standard when it came to intelligence gathering, counter-intelligence and cyber-warfare. Hell, they'd been running Council intelligence programs for the last two thousand years. Yet the Shadow Broker still managed to infiltrate their systems and programs. I could marvel at what a spectacular feat this was... or I could actually open the report and read it.
21:19—Turian patrol ship Indomitable contacted by assisting distraction team.
21:25—Indomitable breaks position in Krogan DMZ to render assistance.
Looked like an AAR. (2) Guess some things are truly universal.
21:26—STG vessel Veshok-16 enters through gap in sensor coverage.
"21:40—Touchdown and landing. Commander Kirrahe performs final review of drop parameters. 21:41—Mission Specialist Solus suggests change to plan; when informed that plan will not be changing unless parameters shift, Specialist Solus suggests Commander Kirrahe has foreign object in cloaca. "
At first I thought Mordin was just reading the report out loud. I looked at him to say that it really wasn't necessary… and closed my mouth. He wasn't reading it. Heck, he wasn't even looking at the monitor. Mordin was reciting the mission report from memory. Which meant that he'd either read it earlier in the day and memorized it... or he'd been reviewing that event for a long time.
"21:43—Operative Rentola detects incoming Weyrloc scouts.
"21:47—Scouts neutralized. Rentola treated for minor injuries. After assisting, Specialist Solus asks if failure to land undetected constitutes parameter shift. Commander Kirrahe suggests operation may proceed as planned. Specialist Solus suggests cloacal obstruction is in fact Kirrahe's cranium.
"21:50—Team leaves Veshok-16 and proceeds toward primary drop point, Weyrloc agricentre.
"22:28—Weyrloc agricentre reached. Team splits, with distraction team led by Operative Rentola drawing Weyrloc scouts from area.
"23:00—Primary team disables solar array.
"23:03—Weyrloc workers leave agricentre to repair solar array.
"23:07—Primary team enters agricentre. Mission Specialist Solus performs water and soil tests to ensure proper payload dispersal. Assisted by Specialist Maelon."
This wasn't just any STG operation, I realized. This was the mission that Mordin had talked about, the one initiated when the salarians realized that the krogan were adapting to and overcoming the genophage. The one where Mordin helped introduce Genophage 2.0.
"23:12—Distraction team breaks radio silence, informs primary team that Weyrloc group returning. Specialist Solus asks whether this constitutes parameter shift. Commander Kirrahe suggests that Specialist Solus is in fact a walking cloaca, restates importance of holding the line."
'Holding the line.' Heh. (3)
"23:13—Weyrloc team arrives at agricentre and initiates close-quarters combat. Operatives Jirin and Chorel killed. Specialist Maelon and Operatives Hishau and Shenok seriously injured. Weyrloc team killed in entirety. Last member prevented from broadcasting alarm due to Specialist Solus stabbing Weyrloc guard through eye with pitchfork, sustaining injuries to face and right cranial horn in process."
Hence explaining why Mordin only had one intact cranial horn. And when Mordin had turned a pitchfork into a lethal weapon.
"23:16—Distraction team arrives to provide relief. Commander Kirrahe notes parameter shift, suggests Rentola take injured members back to ship while he and remainder of team attempt to hit secondary drop point. Despite injuries to face and head, Specialist Solus refuses to return to ship, noting need for soil and water analysis at secondary site. Kirrahe suggests Solus is one tough cloaca.
"23:20—Specialist Maelon greatly distressed by discovery that agricentre was staffed by female krogan, including guards killed in attack. Specialist Solus calms colleague and provides sedative. Specialist Maelon returns to ship with other injured team members.
"23:30—Active team finishes disposal of bodies and heads for secondary drop point, Weyrloc hospital.
"00:15—Active team infiltrates hospital undetected. Specialist Solus determines makeup of soil and water fall within necessary parameters. Payload dispersed into water and food."
"01:15—Active team returns to ship. Specialist Solus declines treatment, insists on providing additional care for Hishau, Shenok, and Maelon.
"01:25—Specialist Maelon makes formal protest, suggesting actions against female krogan violate mission parameters of maintaining population levels without negatively impacting culture. Specialist Solus requests protest be stricken from record due to Maelon's injured condition. Commander Kirrahe concurs. Maelon given additional sedatives, unconscious for remainder of operation. (Protest stricken from submitted copy of report.)
01:40 - STG vessel Veshok-16 lifts off, departing through existing sensor gap. Mission complete."
The last two words were spoken with considerable bitterness. "Mordin? You okay?"
Mordin turned towards the exit. "Mission objectives sound," he said over his shoulder. "Successful despite complications. Ethical questions remain unanswered. Moral quandaries. Must get back to work. Much to atone for."
Scuttlebutt had suggested that Mordin's research had narrowed from concurrent experiments in several areas to focused experiments in just two—deciphering the data we'd gotten from the Collector base and furthering Maelon's research towards a genophage cure. Something told me he was focusing on the latter—when he wasn't beating himself up over his prior decisions and actions. About damn time, if you asked me. He'd wasted enough years hiding behind simulations and scenarios.
"Mordin," I called out. He turned back. "If you're working on what I think you're working on, then I think you're doing the right thing. Might be a little after the fact, but it's not too late to acknowledge when you made a mistake and try to fix it."
I think Mordin appreciated what I said, considering the way he straightened up and smiled before leaving the room. Still, it might be a good idea to keep an eye on him in the future. And another eye on the armoury's contents.
Just in case.
"Shepard," Samara greeted me. "I just passed Mordin. He seemed... preoccupied."
"Trip down memory lane wasn't a lot of fun," I replied, gesturing to the console.
"Ah, I see. My 'trip,' as you put it, lacked a certain frivolity as well."
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," I offered.
"A kind gesture, to be sure," Samara said, "but I've been told that keeping things to yourself can be unhealthy in the long run. I think that several centuries of solitude would qualify."
Makes sense. "Okay," I nodded. "Let's do it."
There were two files. The first one was marked 'Inventory'. It was a list of items and belongings that Samara apparently gave away after becoming a justicar. Not to trivialize everything that led to her choice to go down that particular path, but it seemed like she didn't want for much. Four-bedroom house. Lots of furniture and appliances. Elkoss Sapphire family skycar. Roughly 20 outfits, 3 negligees, 4 dancing dresses, a bond ceremony gown, a bond ceremony bracelet, various jewelry, and lots of baby and children clothing. A lifetime membership pass to Serrice Fitness—oh, for crying out loud! I started scrolling down the list, wondering to myself what value anyone could possibly get from all this...
...wait. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Samara look away. Might've missed it if she hadn't telegraphed it so obviously. I scanned the list for the item that would've popped up on the screen when Samara flinched.
Oh. Personalized 'Happy Birthday Mom' travel mug, complete with a picture of a really young Samara and her kids. A note was added stating that the handle had been cracked and repaired with glue. If that note got that kind of response, what did the second folder hold?
Turned out to be a transmission log. From 1755 CE. Yeesh, that was a long time ago. What was humanity doing way back then? (4)
Samara: I have called you together to ask something of you. It is not a small thing, but it is for the best. Rila, Falere, are you receiving this?
"Rila is my middle daughter, Shepard," Samara explained, pausing the log. "Falere is my youngest."
"Gotcha." I waited a bit, just in case she had anything more to say, before resuming the log.
Falere: Quite well
Rila: [Indistinct]-s Mother.
F: We're in a common room, her communicator's too near the door. [Door shuts.] Try now Mother.
S: This news would be best delivered in person, but I am not allowed to travel before tomorrow. I have something I must do. It is hazardous, and thus I must do it alone.
F: What do you mean, hazardous?
S: Tomorrow I take the Oath of Solitude. It is to prepare me for the other oaths, but it means—
F: You what?
S: It is an oath required of all who—
F: I know what it means Mother! I'm forty-two years old. I have heard of justicars.
S: Then… do you understand why I must do it?
F: No.
S: The life of a justicar is dangerous. I will make enemies and they would seek to use you—
F: That I understand. What is not clear is why you do this in the first place. Is it not enough that we live a hundred light-years away from you in a dark fortress? That we have no communicator of our own but must use this communal one? Do you know what it means to us to hear your voice?
Oh. Geez, that sucks. Not knowing what happened to a parent whether you'll ever see them again is bad enough—I knew that way too well. But to know that Mom or Dad was choosing to never see you again?
S: I am sorry, Falere.
F: And now you take that away.
S: That is wounding, but it is the truth. I wish there were some other path.
F: And you called us instead of coming to see us.
S: If I came to see you, I would never leave. You know what that would mean.
F: Is she that terrible, Mother? Is she so much of a menace that you would deny us ever seeing you, ever hearing your voice again?
S: My dear… I cannot lose her on the world and pretend I owe her victims nothing. Her crimes are my crimes. In time you may see as I do.
F: Time is a weak salve for a fresh wound.
S: Please… do not let anger ruin this. We will have our lives to contemplate the pain and loss. Can we not see from one another's eyes, just for a moment?
Falere didn't say anything. I couldn't blame her. Samara had basically chosen to turn away from her kids and lock up as many of them up as possible. Now she was going to hunt down the one kid that escaped, which conveniently meant that she would never see her other children again.
Hell, I didn't know whether to be angry at Samara or pity her.
S: Falere?
F: I don't want to lose you, mother. Not over someone as small as Mirala, or whatever she calls herself now.
S: And Rila? You have been silent. Are you in accord?
R: I can only say I will yearn for you too.
S: Surely you have more than that.
R: Is this the only way you will have any righteousness, Mother?
S: It will let me live a just life.
R: Then the Goddess forbid I take it from you.
(Rila terminates call)
I couldn't really blame Rila. All this time, there was a chance, however remote, that they might see their mother again. But now? Now that hope had just been trampled and crushed. Over a comm channel. Samara couldn't even look her kids in the eye when breaking the bad news.
F: She loves you mother. She did not want to say it, but she does.
S: And you? Can you understand why I must do this?
F: Catch her. Just catch her.
(Falere terminates call.)
"I had thought that I had made peace with my decision all those centuries ago," Samara said softly. "And all the sacrifices I had made. But then I look at this..."
...
"Yeah?"
"Despite the danger Ardat-Yakshi pose to this very day, I wonder what kind of mother to lock away her own children and hunt down her daughter? Which reminds me: I never said thank you."
"I thought you did," I said. "For helping you—"
Samara shook her head. "Not for your aid in finding Mir—Morinth, as you know her. No, I meant I never thanked you... for asking that same question."
I'm not sure if that was something I wanted to be thanked for. "Have you ever thought about contacting Rila or Falere?" I asked. "Now that your... quest is complete?"
"I do not know," Samara admitted. "The Code does not cover that possibility."
"Maybe it's time to find a loophole," I suggested. "A sympathetic person who'll let you contact them in secret.
"Or maybe it's time to ask yourself a question or two," I continued, my voice hardening ever so slightly, "Like how could you lock away your children and refuse to ever see them again? Like how you could pursue one of your daughters for centuries for the sole purpose of killing her?"
"Shepard…"
"You didn't ask for your children to be Ardat-Yakshi. I get that. But did you ever stop to think of things from their perspective? Like how they didn't ask to be Ardat-Yakhsi either? Like how they were—and still are—being punished for something that wasn't their fault? Punished by their society. Punished by you."
"Me?"
"They haven't seen you in centuries, Samara!" I snapped. "That's a couple hundred years to ask themselves questions like 'What did I do wrong?' 'Why does Mommy hate me?' Did you ever think of that? Or were you too busy meditating and hiding behind the Code to look yourself in the mirror?!"
For once, the Code didn't have an answer.
"It's funny," Tali said.
Samara had just left, still looking contemplative. "What's funny?"
"Remember how we first met?"
"In a dark alley. You knocked a pair of salarians over with a tech mine." (5)
I'm sure she rolled her eyes inside that helmet of hers. "Shepard, I meant why we met."
"You had information proving Saren was a traitor..." I trailed off as I saw where she was heading with this. "...and you were trying to sell it to the Shadow Broker in exchange for protection against Saren's flunkies."
"Now we're standing in the Shadow Broker's base," Tali finished.
"Kinda full circle, isn't it?"
"I thought so."
That was as good an intro as any to Tali's dossier. One of the files contained a series of e-mails between the Shadow Broker and Tali regarding that very information. As it turned out, if Fist didn't betray her, the Shadow Broker would have. Apparently he sent an e-mail to Fist, telling him to kill Tali once he got the intel, along with any underlings who might've seen it. After I helped rescue Tali, she sent another e-mail to the Shadow Broker, naively telling him that Fist was compromised and that she got the protection she needed from, well, me. The Shadow Broker apologized for Fist's behaviour and offered his personal protection should she choose to trust him again.
There was also a file marked suit process log, indicating the various hardware and software upgrades Tali had made to her suit. There were a number of things she got thanks to funding from Project Haestrom, like radiation detection diagnostic programs and an omni-tool upgrade to enhance data integrity. She'd installed... no, wait, she uninstalled it. Other things she'd gotten on her own, like a couple software programs to analyze nutritional content of her food, an advanced engineering program with schematics and protocols for human vessels—the unclassified stuff that was free to the public, of course—and some upgraded medical scanning/quarantine hardware. Hey, she reinstalled—no, wait. She uninstalled it again. Educational vids on understanding human body language and dealing with loss—no need to guess why she downloaded that last one. And then—there it is again! She'd reinstalled and upgraded it to the Deluxe Edition. "Tali?"
"Yes, Shepard?"
"What exactly is 'Nerve-Stim Pro'?"
"Oh... nothing."
Uh huh.
File number three was a keystroke recording of a file Tali had been working on during one of our recent stops on the Citadel:
-BEGIN NEW MESSAGE
"Dear Sen and Hesesh'Jorin, I am"
-ERASE LINE
"To the parents of Myr'Jorin, I am"
-ERASE LINE
"My name is Tali'Zorah vas Neema, and I led the unit where your son was killed on Haestrom"
-PARTIAL LINE ERASE
"led the unit on Haestrom where your son died"
-PARTIAL LINE ERASE
"unit on Haestrom where Myr'Jorin died"
-SAVE PROGRESS
"I didn't know Myr'Jorin well, but he seemed like a good soldier and a brave young"
-ERASE LINE
"I didn't get the chance to know Myr very well , but"
-ERASE LINE
"I only served with Myr for a short time, but I was impressed by his bravery and his commitment to his people."
-SAVE PROGRESS
"He died so that I could"
-ERASE LINE
"He saved me at the sacrifice of his"
-ERASE LINE
"He gave his life to get data that the Admiralty Board felt was"
-PARTIAL LINE ERASE
"to get data that will one day bring us back to Homeworld. I don't know if that helps"
-PARTIAL LINE ERASE
"back to Homeworld, and we all honor his sacrifice."
-SAVE PROGRESS
"I regret"
-ERASE LINE
"I am sorry for your"
-ERASE LINE
"I understand what you must be"
-ERASE LINE
-SAVE DRAFT AND EXIT
"I hate letters like that," I said somberly.
"You know what's worse than reading those kinds of letters?" Tali asked softly.
"Writing them?"
"Yeah."
"Tell me about it. It's never easy."
"Did you have to write and rewrite it when..."
"...when Ash died? Yeah. And all the other times when people who'd served under me had died."
"Were you ever satisfied with what you finally sent off?"
"Nope," I sighed. "I'd always hoped that it was good enough."
Tali nodded slowly. "Auntie Raan later told me that Father wrote letters of condolence to each and every member of the team who'd died. On my behalf."
"That was nice of him," I offered.
"I guess. Shepard?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think he had trouble writing it?"
I thought about that. "Hopefully," I finally said. "When it's easy writing a letter like that, then you know you have a problem."
Thane arrived on time. He nodded to me, reached over and accessed his dossier. Very matter-of-fact, with a certain economy of motion. Straight to the point. Okay. I could roll with that.
The Shadow Broker didn't have any tips on how Thane was so darn sneaky. But he did have a file of Thane's preferred ways to kill people. Varied according to species. Apparently he liked to sneak up on humans and snap their neck. Well, he either approached from the rear and grabbed their shoulder to keep them still. From there, he either placed his hands to the chin and base of skull—leading to a two-handed neck snap—or wrap an arm around the throat, grip the jaw, and snap the neck with one arm.
Asari could be neutralized with a throat punch to collapse the airway, grip the arm in such a way to prevent them from using their biotics and flip them over with a hip throw. Or blow apart their barriers with biotics, step forward, kick the back of the knee, press the knee to the spine. After that, you could grip their chin and scalp and snap their neck.
Turians apparently could be disabled by approaching them from the side and kicking them in the knee, which would make it easy to pull them into a lock, jab them under the jaw or eye, grab their head fringe thingies and snap their neck. There was also a frontal approach that ended the same way. Seemed Thane had a thing for snapping necks. Which made the way he took out Nassana Dantius on Illium all the more striking. (6)
He even had a complicated way to attack krogan, involving strikes and nerve strikes and some running leaping spinning neck-snap thing. I think I preferred his alternate assassination method. Blowing krogan to smithereens with a well-placed bomb seemed infinitely safer in my book.
I was trying to picture Thane's primary method of killing krogan when I opened the other file, so I wasn't really paying attention at first. It wasn't until I saw something about lung capacity that my eyes darted back to the top. The heading was 'Thane's Medical Report From Dr. Chakwas.'
"Thane?"
"Yes, Shepard?"
"You sure you want me to be seeing this? Isn't it kinda personal?"
"Shepard—I am dying. I would rather die surrounded by friends who know what is happening than die in the midst of chaos, rumour and speculation."
He seemed sure of his decision. And I'd rather talk to him about Kepral's Syndrome with the facts, rather than fumble around with vague, inane platitudes. I owed him that much.
Lung Capacity: 42% (left-side lung shows large lesions, right lung has nodular lesions only)
Antibiotic treatment: Now resistant to cipoxidin, malanarin, alburcin
Metastatic progress: stomach, liver (minor), heart (negligible at this time)
Treatment Options: Viable transplant candidate but refused to be added to list—Synthetic lung generation currently impossible for drell.
"You don't want to be on the transplant list?"
"My condition is now terminal, Shepard. A transplant would do little good, especially considering that my body is now resistant to many of the drugs I would need to prevent my body from rejecting the transplant."
"But it might buy you a little more time."
"There are many drell out there who also suffer from Kepral's Syndrome. Some of them are well off, others suffer from financial difficulties. Many are employed in various occupations—security, education, health care and so on. Most of them have done more good things for their communities than I ever have. If my absence means that even one of them will get a transplant faster, then it is worth it."
"You realize that you've done a lot of good as well," I reminded him.
"Perhaps," Thane admitted. "I like to think that giving some other drell my 'spot' on the transplant list would be one more good deed."
Therapy and Care: At this time, Mr. Krios should continue getting regular cardiovascular exercise in order to stimulate lung movement and prevent or delay the stiffness that causes lack of oxygen transport. While physical stimulation may also be beneficial in keeping tissues flexible, any injury at this point will dramatically impact Mr. Krios' body and cause rapid degeneration. It is unclear how much longer Thane will be able to serve in direct action. Thane should continue to wear loose clothing that leaves his chest uncovered to prevent moisture buildup that could worsen the problem.
So that's why he chose those clothes. I knew there had to be some reason other than the local scuttlebutt that he did so to attract female attention.
The drell eidetic memory is often beneficial in allowing drell to escape unpleasant scenes by losing themselves in happier times. In this case, however, Mr. Krios should try to restrict the time spent reminiscing as prolonged sedentary activity increase the rate of lung degradation.
This suggests that what is best for Mr. Krios currently is to continue to remain active and engage with other team members in order to stay mentally and emotionally stimulated.
Right. Note to self: keep up the rounds and get some other people to checkup on him. Get him talking and moving—preferably out of Life Support. Like Garrus. Or EDI—if anyone could multitask, she could.
Zaeed was the only one who was late. By a minute. Technically, he was on time in the sense that he was actually in the room. But he was late for the meeting because he was finishing off one of his tales, with Liara as the captive audience and the info drone constantly interrupting with corrections or offers to research some offhand comment.
"I'm impressed, Shepard," Zaeed said when he finally approached me. "You chat up every goddamn stranger with a sob story, pester them until they finally give up their secrets, scour every freaking corner for a couple creds… but you never looked through these dossiers until we had first crack at 'em."
"I like to think I'm consistently inconsistent," I tried.
"Might be on to something there," Zaeed agreed. "You're a decent bloke who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. Or sitting down while I talk your ear off."
That wound up being a pretty good lead into one of the Shadow Broker's files on Zaeed: a partial audio transcript of a conversation Zaeed had with Kelly:
Zaeed Massani: So this hotshot turian moves in by the door, ignores my hand signal, and gets hit straight through the visor.
Kelly Chambers: Oh my.
ZM: It's like he was expecting slavers to hand out business cards instead of bullets.
KC: Was he all right?
ZM: The turian? Nah, sniper took his head clean off.
KC: Oh dear.
Yeah. Snipers had a way of doing that.
ZM: Right. It all went to shit after that. We jammed their radio equipment, but the slavers got off a shuttle that came back with a bomb.
KC: But they were keeping people in that camp!
ZM: Sure, they'd lose some credits, but there's always another civilian transport in the Terminus Systems.
KC: So I'm beginning to realize. What did you do?
ZM: Got the hell out. We killed their captain and the guards like we were hired. I figured the merc flying the shuttle wouldn't be dumb enough to blow up his own base once we left.
KC: What happened?
ZM: The Blood Pack always did like them incredibly goddamn stupid.
"Seriously?" I snorted. "That actually happened?"
"Hard to believe, right?" Zaeed laughed. "But yeah, it really was like that. Trust me: trying to get clear before some idiot blows up his own base is something you don't forget."
And even if he was taking a few creative liberties with the ending to make a better tale, Zaeed probably wouldn't tell me anyway.
The other file was a personal note that Zaeed wrote just after getting TIMmy's job offer to help me out. Seemed like he'd been thinking of retiring, but wanted that One Last Job to set him up for life. And it seemed like TIMmy's offer had enough creds to make him consider his retirement options seriously. For a guy who loved shooting and killing as much as he did, it seemed he wanted a nice quiet place to settle down. That eliminated Elysium—too many batarians nearby—and Illium—too dangerous. Sounded like Eden Prime might've been an option before the geth attack. To date, nothing had been rebuilt but farms and a few colony pre-fabs. Bekenstein was an option if he could stay under the radar. Or…
"You aren't really going to buy a ship, stuff it full of explosives and fly her straight into Omega, are you?" I asked curiously.
"It would be—"
"—a really easy retirement plan," I finished. "I know. I can read, you know."
"Might be worth it just to imagine the look on Aria's face," Zaeed laughed before his face became more serious. "But nah. I wrote that before I met you. Before I found out how bad the Collectors are and how much worse the Reapers could be. Storm's comin', Shepard. And when it hits, ain't no place gonna be quiet enough or safe enough. Don't think I can afford to retire or go out in a blaze of glory just yet."
No. None of us could.
At last, I was finished. I saw a few more dossiers the Shadow Broker had made on other notable individuals, but that could wait. There was one more person who I hadn't actually spoken to.
Liara saw me approach out of the corner of her eye and motioned me over. "Shepard, take a look at this!"
I joined her at a terminal and watched as she began opening files and reports. My eyes widened. On some level, I knew I shouldn't be surprised. Not after all the revelations and discoveries I'd made today. But to actually see all this laid out in front of me…
"The Shadow Broker had top-level access to the turian and asari governments," Liara said, as if I'd asked out loud for confirmation, "and more than one salarian dalatress traded intel with him."
"Holy crap," I whistled. "This is huge!"
"You don't know the half of it," Liara grinned. "I've spent weeks poring through the Shadow Broker's data and I've barely scratched the surface."
"Careful," I warned, only half-joking. "You're not going to turn into some nutty recluse with way too muchintel on everyone in the galaxy, are you?"
"I can understand the temptation," Liara admitted. "I've got all the secrets of the galaxy at my fingertips." To demonstrate the point, she turned away and took a few steps alongside the console. Her fingers trailed along the keyboard, pulling up some analysis report and dragging it along with her. "Give me ten minutes," she added, throwing her hands out dramatically, "and I could start a war."
Aw, crap.
"But I have an opportunity to share all of this with you," Liara said, turning around. "Not to mention a purpose in helping you find a way to stop the Reapers. That will keep me honest."
Phew.
"You know, relatively speaking."
Ulp. "If you're in over your head, we could just crash this thing and walk away," I suggested. "End it once and for all."
"That's just it. In a way, I feel like I belong here. Working on my own, I was always hunting for leads. Searching for information. Always worrying about when I'd have to set up camp for the night. With the Shadow Broker's resources and intelligence, I have those leads and a quiet place to see where they go and how they connect. Now I can move onto organizing and cataloguing. I've got everything, Shepard. This is a dream job… although the location could be better."
"The view's amazing," I said, tilting my head towards the windows.
"True," Liara agreed. "But constantly seeing nothing but lightning storms and roiling clouds gets depressing after a while."
Okay. Now that we covered the obligatory chat about the weather, time to move on. "Speaking of stopping the Reapers, have you found anything useful yet?"
Liara moved towards the stairs. "The Shadow Broker knew about their existence," she told me as I caught up with her. "Perhaps that's why he offered to help prove Saren's guilt to the Council."
"He didn't want Saren or the Reapers to succeed."
Liara gave a silent nod of confirmation. "He also knew that the Collectors were Protheans repurposed to be Harbinger's puppets. There's even some data on the Protheans. I think he knew what was coming and was looking for a way to survive."
"Why was he looking at Protheans?" I wondered aloud. "They gave us the warning and the Conduit at Ilos, but we've used those. Did they have something else out there? Another tool? Some last-ditch plan?"
"Maybe," Liara shrugged. "Or maybe he was just grasping at anything that offered some hope."
"Maybe," I echoed. "That reminds me: how did you know what the Shadow Broker was?"
"I didn't. I had no idea what to expect when we finally found him. But I researched pre-spaceflight cultures during some of my Prothean studies. I know a bit about the yahg. There's more on the terminals, if you want to look. They're a fascinating culture... and a terrifying one.
While I could indulge my curiosity and ask for more intel on the yahg, I had other questions on my mind. "I spoke to Feron earlier. He said he was okay, but how's he really doing?"
"As well as you can expect after two years of intermittent torture," Liara sighed. "He wants to work, so I'm letting him help me. Maybe it takes his mind off of it."
"Uh huh," I said carefully. "Other than that info drone, it's just you and Feron..."
Liara saw where I was going. "No. He's been through a traumatic ordeal and needs to heal. In his current state, he's emotionally vulnerable. It would be irresponsible of me to take advantage of that." (7)
Good. Okay, now that we'd dealt with that, Feron, the Shadow Broker and the treasure trove he'd left behind for us, it was time to ask the big question: "How are you doing, Liara?"
"I'm a bit overwhelmed, to be honest," Liara confessed. "The Shadow Broker had more resources than you can imagine. Dealing with all of this, I need... I think I need..."
"Yeah?" I prompted.
"What I really need is a change of scenery. I can't leave for too long, but spending all the time on this ship is making me stir-crazy."
"I think what you need is to spend some time with old friends in familiar surroundings," I said firmly. "Why don't you come back with me to the Normandy? It's a lot bigger than the SR-1, but you'd be surprised how much it looks like the old Normandy."
"I'd like that," Liara smiled. "Thank you, Shepard. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up."
It is my understanding that when human women say they need a certain amount of time to freshen up, men should round that up to the nearest hour. Turns out that asari aren't any different. Though why she felt the need to dress up is beyond me. The Normandy's not that fancy.
My intent was to give Liara a little tour. I know I said it looked a lot like the original Normandy, but there were a few things that were different. But no sooner did I step aboard than I got inundated with disasters. The galaxy map was flickering. Grunt was terrorizing the mess hall, howling that there was nothing to eat but ramen. Everyone was being forced to use the ladders and maintenance tunnels because Jack and Zaeed were going at it like rabbits in the elevator. I closed my eyes and counted to three. Then ten. When I finally opened my eyes, Liara was silently shaking with laughter.
"This never happened on the old Normandy," I groused. "Where's Saren when you need him?"
That did it. Liara burst out in a peal of laughter.
"Why don't you take yourself on a self-guided tour?" I suggested. "Looks like I have a few fires to put out."
"Like the one in the elevator?" Liara asked.
"Grab a fire extinguisher!" Joker yelled out from the cockpit. "And make sure your shields are fully charged!"
"Joker!" Liara turned away and entered the cockpit.
"Liara!"
"Shepard!"
I closed my eyes again and sighed. "I'm coming, I'm coming."
A couple hours later, all the disasters were fixed. The galaxy map was fixed. Grunt and his seemingly bottomless stomach were satisfied with a crate of spam. Jack and Zaeed finally got their clothes back on—thank God!—and went back to their respective haunts. And Gardner had finished sterilizing the elevator. EDI told me that Liara was almost finished, so I asked her to send her up to Deck One when she was done. Somehow, I got into the elevator without closing my eyes or holding my breath and returned to my quarters. I still had a little Serrice Ice Brandy left over, so I dug it out and found some glasses.
Liara showed up just as I was pouring the brandy. "How was the tour?"
"It was wonderful," Liara smiled. "This is a beautiful ship, and I enjoyed catching up with everyone. I'm glad to see that Joker was doing well... though he did ask if I'd had a chance to re-enact any scenes from 'Vaenia' recently."
"Of course he did," I sighed.
"I also saw Dr. Chakwas," Liara continued. "I'm glad she's doing well. At least one of us is still doing research."
"Research?"
"Yes. She's working with Mordin and Miranda."
Miranda? This was news to me. I'd have to ask her about that sometime... when both of us had our clothes on.
"She thinks they're almost ready to submit an article for peer review."
"That's great!"
"It is," Liara agreed. "And I bumped into Garrus in the mess hall."
"Garrus was in the mess hall?" I asked blankly.
"Well, yes. He does need to eat at some point."
Really? I thought his diet now subsisted of calibrations.
"He told me about his time on Omega and what he endured there. I didn't realize how hard it had been for him. At least he seems to have gotten over—what was his name? Sidonis?"
"Yeah, that's him," I confirmed. "It was touch-and-go for a while. He really hated him."
"Well, at least he's put that behind him and can focus on other people," Liara said. "He seemed worried about Tali."
"For good reason," I sighed. "You heard about her father?"
"Yes," Liara said sadly. "We talked about that. It's not easy losing a parent that you love and hate equally."
"I'm sure Tali's grateful to talk to someone who's been through that before. Though I hope you talked about other things."
"We did," Liara said, though she didn't go into any details. Instead, she handed me a small, flat case. Shooting her a questioning look, I opened it...
...
"It took some digging, but I recovered your dog tags." (8)
"I... I never thought I'd see these again," I admitted at last.
"You can't get back everything you lose," Liara said, "but sometimes you get lucky."
"Must've taken a lot of digging to find them."
"Actually, someone beat me to it," Liara confessed. "They changed hands more than once over the last two years. Do you remember Admiral Hackett?"
I snorted. "Of course I do. So should you: remember all those random assignments he kept sending us on?"
"Yes, yes I do," Liara laughed. "I also remember how we successfully completed all of them. So does the Admiral: he gave them to me so I could return them to you. He sends his best, and hopes you're okay."
Well, I'll be damned. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
"So how are you doing, Shepard?"
Liara sounded serious. Not that that was news—she'd been serious since the first time I saw her on Illium. But now she just sounded concerned-serious instead of obsessed-serious, if that makes any sense. I looked at her. Yep: definitely concerned. "Well—"
"I don't mean what you tell the squad or your crew to maintain morale," Liara interrupted. "How are you really doing?"
For a moment, I was about to plaster one of my Hero Smiles on my face and say something big and bold and inspiring. How I had the brightest men and women on my side. How blessed I was to command one of the most disciplined and devastating squads in the galaxy. How ready we were to take whatever the Reapers could...
...
...whatever I was about to say died in my throat. I just couldn't muster up the energy. I was just so tired. "Between you and me," I said quietly, "I have no idea how we're gonna do this. I'm doing everything I can, but... sometimes I ask myself whether it's enough."
"You've done more than most," Liara reassured me. "Even if those idiots on the Council won't admit it."
"That's just it!" I burst out. "I feel like I've been putting my neck on the line for all this time for nothing! I'm just so damn tired. Tired of Cerberus screwing around with me and everyone else! Tired of the Council ignoring me and sticking their head in the sand! Tired of my so-called friends turning their backs instead of believing me, after everything we've been through!"
"Yes, I heard about what Kaidan said on Horizon," Liara said sadly. "I'm sorry. But their short-sightedness doesn't diminish what you've accomplished: you and your squad stormed the Collector base, rescued an entire ship's crew, destroyed the Collector base and got out alive."
"You know the Collector's were just puppets," I reminded her. "Mindless thralls and minions to Harbinger and the Reapers. They're still out there—and they won't go down as easily."
"Give yourself some credit, Shepard," Liara urged. "Without the Collectors, the Reapers will have one less tool to use when they arrive."
I guess. At least someone else knew that they would be coming, that it wasn't a hypothetical claim that had been dismissed as the ravings of a loony whacko. I plunked my ass down on my bed. "You think we stand a chance?" I asked, looking up at her.
"I do," Liara nodded, "as long as we have something to fight for."
"Guess you have a point."
"So?"
"So what?"
"Do you have something—or someone—to fight for?"
"Why do I have the feeling that you already know the answer to that?" I asked warily.
"Because you're smart enough to recognize just how good an information broker I really am," Liara smiled. "Though I must admit, I didn't expect things between you and Ms. Lawson to... develop so quickly."
"Miranda has issues," I admitted. "So do I. But we trust each other—and I care about her."
"She was so cold when I first met her," Liara recalled. "Completely focused on the mission and her duty."
I snorted. "I don't know that she's lightened up that much—what's so funny?"
Liara was shaking her head, a slight smile on her face. "She has. Believe me. You have no idea how much you've changed her.
I'd have to take her word on that. (9)
"I hope you two find some happiness together. Meanwhile, I should get back to my base."
"Did you ever think that you'd have a 'base'?" I asked.
"No," Liara laughed. "It sounds so dramatic when I put it that way."
"You could call it your lair," I suggested.
"I'm not quite ready to call the info drone my henchman," Liara laughed. "And I know Feron deserves more than that."
Well, at least she was telling jokes again.
"Thanks for inviting me up, Shepard. You were right: I did need to take a break with old friends."
"You know, you can always stay a little longer," I suggested. "Just to make sure you always have a friend around when you need a break. Or a reality check. Feron's welcome, too. Heck, you could even move some stuff onto the Normandy so you can maintain the Shadow Broker network."
Liara looked thoughtful. "Thank you, Shepard," she said. "That's a very tempting offer. I'll have to think about it. If nothing else, the logistics of moving the Shadow Broker's data and equipment will require a great deal of planning and preparation." (10)
"Fair enough," I replied. "Just know that the offer's always open."
"I know. And thank you again."
I walked her to the elevator. She was just about to step in when she paused. "Shepard?"
"Yeah, Liara?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," I shrugged.
"You might find it a personal one."
"I said 'sure'," I said, a bit impatiently in hindsight. "Spit it out."
"Have you told Miranda how you feel about her?"
...
"Well?"
Um. Well. I guess not. Not in words. At least. Uh. "They... they say actions speak louder than words," I managed at last. "She knows how I feel."
"That may be," Liara said. "But sometimes silence can be even louder."
"Yeah, well—"
"How about something easier," Liara tried. "Do you love her?"
"Yeah." I guess that was a little easier. At least I didn't stumble my way through that answer.
"Say it."
"Huh?"
Somehow, Liara managed to resist the urge to talk to me like a patient adult dealing with a particularly slow kid. "Let me hear you say it."
"Fine," I sighed. "I care about Miranda. I love her."
...
...
Holy shit.
I said it.
I really said it.
Wow.
"There you go," Liara smiled.
"What?"
"For someone who's so talkative and able to interact with people, you can be very quiet when revealing things about yourself. It's important to recognize them and admit them, to yourself and to others. While you still can."
I thought about what Liara said. I thought about it when I said my goodbyes. I thought about it as I sat there alone in my quarters. I thought about it as I made my rounds. Maybe Liara had a point.
When I got to Miranda's quarters, she handed me a bunch of maintenance reports. I handed her a cup of jasmine tea. For a moment, I thought about saying something to Miranda. Didn't have to be a grand speech or anything, right? It could even be as simple as three little words.
Instead, I thumbed on the datapad and started scrolling through the first report. It could wait, I told myself.
There was always tomorrow, after all.
(1): The first author listed in a publication is typically the one who did most of the work, oversaw the project or study and, often, wrote the paper. Having 'first authorship' on a paper typically carries a significant amount of weight and respect with regards to one's contribution to the paper as well as one's overall career.
(2): An acronym for After-Action Report, a human term for a retrospective analysis on a mission or series of actions. They are intended to evaluate performance, analyze procedures and actions, determine their effective and efficiency, identify any issues that require improvement and propose any adjustments or recommendations that could address those issues.
(3): Shepard and Kirrahe worked on a joint operation against a krogan cloning facility on Virmire, one of many operations run by Saren Arterius as a misguided effort to save his people by working with the Reapers. Kirrahe rallied the remnants of his STG through an inspirational speech, in which he used the phrase 'hold the line.'
(4): 1755 CE was noted for many events in humanity's history, including the establishment of Moscow University and the publication of 'A Dictionary of the English Language.'
(5): This occurred before I met Shepard on Therum, where he rescued me from Saren's forces.
(6): Thane killed Nassana with a single shot from his pistol, deliberately angled to maximize the amount of pain she felt and the time it would take for her to succumb to her injuries. Extremely unprofessional by his standards but, by his own admission, this was not a standard contract and he did not expect to survive.
(7): Sadly, I know many people—even some asari—who wouldn't be so reticent. Shepard's concern was understandable and speaks volumes about his character.
(8): An informal, albeit common, term for identification tags worn by human military personnel, originating from their resemblance to identification tags used for actual Earth canines. Humans are required to wear two tags—each of which bearing identifying information such as name, rank and service number—at all times. In the event that a human soldier dies, one of the tags can be broken off, while the other tag remains on the body. This allows human authorities, families and friends to be notified, which is particularly important if the body cannot be recovered for some reason.
(9): There are times when Shepard's modesty and self-deprecation can be truly exasperating.
(10) I did give Shepard's offer a great deal of thought. That consideration, and the days spent planning and mapping scenarios, served me well when it came time to scuttle the Shadow Broker ship.