CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Introspection

Kara felt giddy. The sensation was almost overwhelming, as she lay awake, studying Liara's soft features. It had been ten years, since she had felt it, when she had woken up in the bed of an introverted young quarian.

It wasn't lust. The asari's partially uncovered body was alluring, but did not capture Kara's attention like the peaceful expression on her face. She huffed softly, and rolled onto her side, her hand finding her lover's arm, and tightening around it.

Love? She recalled the warm feeling of Liara's mind touching hers, and the freedom of letting down old barriers. At the same time, she felt terribly exposed, even vulnerable. Odd that she would feel so protected and comfortable at the same time.

Loosening the asari's grip on her arm, Kara rolled over, retrieved the statuette from her desk. Liara had said that it represented a goddess, 'She who Lights the Stars', of a prothean client race. With domains including beauty, stars, and travel, it made a perfect metaphor for her lover. The figure was only about twenty centimeters in height, its six-fingered hands held out before it, as though in offering, and its face uplifted. Its features were semi-human, though it lacked a nose, and its too-round eyes were set too widely in its narrow face. Its body conformed more closely to her human expectations, but lacked feminine proportions, or any familiar gender signifiers. The curve of its limbs suggested salarian-like flexibility.

Behind her, with a soft contented noise, Liara stirred, drawing herself against Kara's body. "Il'Ylbet's beauty drew the gods to her, for all wished to have her for a mate, but she would have none of them," the asari whispered. "She begged Il'Markt, Whose Song Filled the Void, to send her one who could respect the wisdom she had gained in her travels.

"'Seek the one who dwells in the shadows,' Il'Markt said, and Il'Ylbet did; and there she met Il'Kalne, Who Sings Alone, and her thoughts were filled with love. But Il'Kalne was afraid, for she loved Il'Ylbet, and feared to be alone again. She feared her ignorance would displease Il'Ylbet, who knew the secrets of the stars, and that what seemed lovely in the darkness would melt to ugliness in the light."

Smiling, Kara set the statuette aside, and turned to face the asari. "You are beautiful," she said, barely a whisper, "and I love you."

Liara's brow crinkled in confusion. "How is that you always know?"

"I can accept a goddess that resembles you," Kara teased, "but one that resembles me? No."

"I'm sorry it took an infusion of prothean courage to get me here," Liara whispered.

Kara shook her head, resting her hand on Liara's hip. "That was all you. Don't doubt it."

The young asari smiled. "I didn't think you'd pull me in like that."

"Neither did I," Kara breathed. "It just felt right. Like it feels right to say; I love you."

"I love you," Liara repeated. It took some awkward maneuvering in the narrow space, but she rolled onto her back, taking Kara with her.

Kara slipped her arm under Liara's neck, supporting her body so that she wasn't resting quite so uncomfortably on the asari's partially-cartilaginous breasts; the rest of her was all soft skin over firm muscle, not so different from the feel of a human woman, except for a noticeably exotic texture when alien skin shifted against hers.

It was all quite difficult to resist, and Kara bent her head for a slow, passionate kiss. One rough hand slid up her spine, and into her hair. The other roamed freely across her back.

"It means I'm ready to commit, to us. To you. To have—" Kara cut herself off, laughing softly. "Well, now is not the time for that discussion."

"No," Liara agreed, tracing Kara's cheekbone with a gentle finger. "Let's just enjoy this moment."

Kara smiled, and bent her head to Liara's blue neck, planting kisses that worked their way down to the asari's chest. She paused, resting her head over her lover's six-chambered heart, listening to its rapid beating.

She lay there, content, until the asari's impatient hands roused her.

It was late morning before they finished their caresses, and midday before Kara showered and ate, and finally made an appearance on the command deck. "What's our status, Keyx?" she asked of the duty officer, as she approached him.

"Ten hours remaining to the Maroon Sea Relay, ma'am," he replied, with more than his usual formality. "All systems are reading green."

"Good," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "And what about you?"

He glared at her, and pulled away from the touch. "As long as I do my job, that's not your affair."

"This isn't an Alliance ship," Kara said. At least she was in a better mood to discuss her decisions, now, if that was where the discussion was headed. "I'm not interested in people who just follow orders. If you want to tell me what's wrong, maybe we can work through it."

He glared furiously at her. "There's nothing to 'work through'," he snapped. "Janine is in hospital. Raiders hit the colony three days ago, and she was critically injured, trying to get Sarah to safety. My daughter is dead, and I only found out last night, because you had all communications blocked."

"I'm sorry—"

"Go to hell." He shook his head sharply, and turned back to his station. Two-year-old Sarah had not deserved that fate.

"I'm sorry, Keyx," Kara repeated. Certainly now was not the time to attempt to explain her actions. "Take some time off. I'll see to things here."

He straightened abruptly. "Are you dismissing me?"

Kara sighed. He didn't understand her at all if he thought she cared about a few harsh words. "I'm offering."

"Yeah. Okay," he said, nodding faintly. It wasn't as though the post offered much of a distraction. On a frigate in the middle of a relay jump, there wasn't a great deal for a duty officer to do.

Kara checked over the displays as the young lieutenant made for the stairs. All systems were reading green, as he had said. Countdown to the exit relay was just under ten hours. She switched the secondary display over to her favorite alternative news feed, and settled in. It seemed like she had some catching up to do.

xxxx

"Catching up on the news while on watch?" Brynja smiled, looking over Kara's shoulder. "Are you sure that's appropriate?"

Kara rolled her eyes. "You'd think I couldn't hear you chatting with Jeff."

"He may be a good pilot, but I don't think I'll ever actually like him," the blond shrugged, leaning against the console.

"I heard that, Ensign," the lieutenant remarked, pausing as he limped past. "Hey, Cap'n, I hear you and Liara slept in. You didn't happen to make a vid, 'cause—"

"Goddess, Moreau, could you be less of a drooling male cliché?" Brynja snapped. "We know already, so go crawl in some hole and jack off. Just… leave us out of it."

Kara tried not to smile. She had broken the noses of a few fellow officers for similar comments, but that was an inappropriate way to treat a subordinate, especially one with a degenerative bone disorder. The self-described best pilot in the Alliance glanced at her, as though expecting a defense. "You earned that," she shrugged.

He may have been muttering something about 'feminazis' as he limped off, but Kara ignored him, focusing instead on the young blond. "I thought the two of you were getting on fairly well?"

"He's a twenty-seven year old frat boy," Brynja said distastefully. "His kind spends half their time dreaming about bedding lesbians, usually in pairs. He was right about you and Liara, though?"

Kara gestured that Brynja should follow her, and led the way into the comm room. Not that she worried much about Garrus gossiping, if he was even interested enough to listen in, but she preferred privacy. "We're back together, yes, and we had sex."

The blond embraced Kara firmly. "I thought you looked… softer. I wish you looked happy, though."

So did she. Sharing her memories with Liara had brought them to the fore of her own thoughts, and while she had never been the most cheerful person, she had at least enjoyed life. Now, she had only those sparse moments that were able to overwhelm her burdens. "I never had the easiest time ignoring the world around me," she explained. "I've been studying Alliance counter-piracy actions over the last month, looking for a reason why the attacks haven't declined. Their defense posture has always been flawed, but now it's like they're leaving certain sectors vulnerable on purpose, and ignoring key enemy installations."

"What?"

"It gets worse," Kara sighed. "All the major feeds are focusing entirely on the batarians, even though whenever a colonial garrison kills or captures a raider, they're always human. Wearing batarian armor."

Brynja sank into the nearest chair, a stunned expression on her face. "That sounds… are you suggesting… black ops? Cerberus?"

"There's no proof, just suspicions, but the hardliners have been pushing hard in Parliament and the military," Kara said, sitting next to the blond. "These are the same people who think ending the First Contact war was a mistake."

Brynja shook her head. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Maybe I've done too much already. Can I risk further strengthening the very people I want to stop? We should learn something about Kahoku's return in the next few days, and even that… if he fails, we'll be in a worse position than we are now."

"He won't fail," Brynja stated firmly.

Kara smiled fondly at the young blond, but they both knew better than that. The field was well-stacked against any challenge to the Alliance leadership. "I like to think I have some foresight, but I can't see all ends. If I had kept my commission, I'd still be in command of the Normandy, and I'd still be outside the chain of command, but I wouldn't have wedged myself between the Alliance and the Council. We might all be better off."

"Kara… no," snorted Brynja. "The Alliance was pushing the batarians towards war even before you stirred things up, so you aren't even an excuse. They're just trying harder, and you know, that should make Kahoku's job easier."

"Oh?" Kara smiled, leaning forward.

"Sure. They're worried, you see, and taking risks they wouldn't otherwise. How many officers are there in the fleet that despise Cerberus? And if the Defense Committee really backing the raids, well, there aren't many people who will back that, even if they disagree with you on a few points."

That was a fair point, and Kara nodded in agreement. There were plenty of officers in the fleet who did not trust aliens or the Council, and wanted a strong and independent humanity, but only a few of them would argue for the domination of other species. "Even so, I think I should try not to get involved."

Brynja smirked at her. "I know you better than that, Spectre."

Kara resisted the urge to do something unexpected, like sweep the attractive young blond up in her arms, and kiss her firmly. At least she did not have to worry about exhaustion wearing down her self-control. "You may be right."

"Whatever you do, Kara, I'll back you. Unless you try and put me in armor again."

"Yes, sir," Kara laughed.

"You know, it occurs to me, this whole discussion was just to distract me from asking about you and Liara. How was it?"

Kara glared at the blond.

"I'm sure you already know why I'm here," Kara said, pulling a spare chair up beside the desk of her makeshift ship's councillor. He leaned back, frowning at her thoughtfully. Or dramatically; she had noticed that he had a taste for it.

"Hm. It's a classic case of megalomania. The patient attempts to assume responsibility for events which are entirely beyond her control."

Kara leveled an irritated stare at the man.

"Right, straight to the point, then," Ehigha frowned. "You began this mission by asking for a tremendous sacrifice, Captain. I'm sure the Council will take care of you, but what about the rest of us? Mutineer is quite a black mark, more than enough to keep the Alliance from accepting us back, and make any corporate manager think twice. It won't matter that much how this ends, and it sometimes feels like you don't care. I know you do, but maybe it needs saying once in a while.

"As for Keyx, he's been hit harder than most of us. The Alliance doesn't exactly make it easy for us to have families, and his is gone, now. You think Janine won't blame him for their daughter's death? She hears about everything we do, and we're always wrong, because that's what's reported. I'm just glad that my sister knows better than to credit the shit they peddle."

"I haven't given it much attention," Kara said. "Maybe that was a mistake."

The doctor nodded. "I was surprised by that. As an anarchist, you should know that real change comes from the people, but you're trying to take a top-down approach. I thought for sure you'd talk to Miss Wong again, get her to publish your side of things. Or surely there are a few other names in radical journalism that have caught your eye over the years."

Kara sighed. It wasn't that she failed to see merit in his suggestion, because she did. She simply disliked self-promotion, but hers had already become a household name. Maybe it was more important than she thought to make sure they heard the truth. "I'll talk to her. About Keyx…"

"I know you… dislike therapists, sir, but not everyone can sort out their problems on their own. He should talk to someone, and I don't think you can help."

Probably not, if he blamed her, and she could see why he might. Even so, she had to try. "Any advice for me?"

Ehigha brushed at his coarse hair, and nodded, meeting her gaze firmly. "If he needs to blame you, let him. Hopefully, it will pass, and if it doesn't… well, you won't be able to get through to him now. I don't recommend leaving him in command until his mental state improves."

With Keyx taken off duty, Kara had no one else to fill first watch. She would have to take it up herself, which meant a great deal more time on the command deck. "Fine," she replied softly. "I'll send him to you."

Kara found her navigations officer in the training room, sweating heavily as he pumped away on one of the exercise machines. She could tell from his sluggish movements that he was pressing against exhaustion, as if to sweat his troubles away. It worked for some, at long as they could keep going, and then everything came back, stronger than ever.

"What is it you want, Shepard?" he grunted, barely glancing up at her approach, and not slowing.

"I hoped you'd be ready to talk," she said, seating herself on the next machine. She had never come close to having a child of her own, before, and she did not pretend to know when it felt like to love one, or to fear its loss, but she knew he needed to let himself feel, and express his feelings.

The levers slammed loudly into the machine's frame, as a fresh wave anger brought with it a burst of energy. "Not to you. You don't give a shit anyway. Sarah's just another dead human."

"Is that really what you think of me?" she whispered. He was oblivious to the fury behind her tone. She had found herself indifferent to the charges laid by military prosecutors, and the harsher accusations of media commentators, but they had never met her, and could not be expected to know her. Keyx could, and she was not so arrogant as to ignore him completely.

"Yes. You just do what you think is right, and damn the consequences. What's the lives of ten thousand human colonists compared to the honor of Kara Shepard!"

Kara breathed deeply, and slowly, not daring to respond. He had only just lost his daughter, she reminded herself. From that perspective, her actions could certainly seem vain, or self-important, making it easy to blame her for everything that had happened in the last month and a half. However, she did not deserve the burden of responsibility for the Alliance's response. They had chosen it themselves, putting Sarah, along with countless other colonists, at risk to maintain their own power.

"What, nothing to say, Captain? No clever rebuttal?"

"I'm sorry for your loss," she said, still softly. She could make whatever arguments she wished, but so long as he blamed her, he would not listen. Maybe he was simply beyond her reach entirely, too bound up in reactionary notions like patriotism. "I want you to speak with Ehigha. You'll remain off duty until he says otherwise."

"Sir," the greek man snapped, stalking off. There were countless ways in which he could become a problem, from damaging moral to direct subversion. She hoped, but could not force herself to believe, that he would choose a more productive path.

"Yes?" the young Asian woman asked, her brown eyes blinking drowsily.

"Hello again, Emily. I apologize for my timing," Kara said, smiling softly. It was morning on the Citadel, but after twenty-one hundred on the Normandy. She had expected to end her day upon returning to her cabin, but she had not found Liara there. "I simply had a proposition for you—"

"What, again?" the young journalist asked, brushing at her unkempt black hair. "The Alliance almost locked me up, after the last time, and they would have done, but CSec said they hadn't a valid warrant."

Kara nodded, and leaned back in her chair. "I saw your report." Emily hadn't violated any of the Alliance's laws regarding press freedom by not reporting Kara's plans, at least, not in Executor Palin's assessment. That would not have saved her from a harsh judgement, though, had the turian allowed her extradition.

"You certainly threw me in at the deep end," Emily frowned, "and I'm guessing you knew it."

"I did. I'm sorry."

Emily shrugged. "I don't resent you for making me face the truth. If it weren't for you, I'd still be a polite version of Khalisah al-Jilani."

"Maybe," Kara laughed, "but all I did was give you a push in the right direction. If you're interested, I have more for you."

The young woman leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "Yeah? I'm listening."

"I've not been paying attention to the mainstream coverage of my mission, but my crew tells me it's bad—"

"You could say that," Emily interrupted dryly.

Kara smiled, and sipped at her tea. "So, I'm taking some advice, and trying to get my side heard. I'll give you my perspective on our missions, and what supporting documentation I can."

"As long as you don't expect me to write a propaganda piece," Emily said, interrupted by a yawn. "I'll want to interview your crew, and I will call you out on any lies. So don't tell any."

Her cabin door slid open, and Kara smiled as Liara entered, carrying another one of her artifacts.

"Hm?" Kara muttered returning her attention to the screen. "You'll publish unedited interviews, Emily, and you won't bury them beneath opinion pieces. I will allow you access to the crew, and you can talk about whatever you like. I may ask you censor certain details, but only if I believe it absolutely necessary."

Emily's lips pressed into a tight line. Then she nodded slowly. "Fine, Kara," she said, "but I intend to make you justify your actions. When do we start?"

"How about in ten hours?" Kara asked. That would give her time to sleep, and Emily to prepare some questions. The Normandy would be in transit for another four days, leaving plenty of opportunities for followup conversations, and interviews with the crew.

"Great, I'll be ready," the woman said. "See you then."

Kara nodded, and closed the channel. She still didn't feel right about her decision to approach the press. Even if she believed Emily would fully support her every decision, their interviews would be taken up by mainstream outlets and journalists, ready to twist her words. Most people would not read or watch the source, and so her efforts would be used against her. She didn't even know what she meant to accomplish.

Fortunately, Liara interrupted her thoughts by sitting abruptly on her lap, and kissing her firmly. She wrapped her arms about her lover, and let out a soft moan.

"So," Kara began teasingly, when they parted, "did you spend the entire day locked up with those artifacts of yours?"

"I spent most of my time thinking of your body," the asari grinned, "but I did managed to banish you for a while, and make some progress."

"Tell me about it?"

Liara frowned. "I've been piecing together the images the thorian showed me. I'm still… well, it's impossible to explain. There isn't a single prothean inside my head, or a city of them. More like… I intuitively know who and what the protheans were. Imperialists, cultural and territorial. They suppressed or integrated other intelligent species so completely that their cultures were lost, to the point that we have no solid evidence proving that they weren't alone."

The archeologist sighed, shaking her head. "I… we let ourselves believe they were like us, without any evidence. Now that I know the truth, I might be able to piece together enough evidence to convince my colleagues."

"I love you," Kara whispered, in Thessié. The language had several words that were given the same english translation, and she chose the one with the most depth, of history and meaning. Liara laughed, and kissed her softly.

"Since you're being so supportive," the asari said, rising to her feet and pulling Kara after her, "I had an idea. In theory, the knowledge given me by the thorian could act like a translation matrix for your beacon visions, allowing me to understand it as if I were prothean myself. It may be enough to make up for the remaining gaps."

If it put her one step ahead of Saren, she could hardly refuse. Her current position was precarious, always in danger of being too far behind if the rogue spectre acted. If she could anticipate his next move, however, she might have time to prepare.

"Good idea, Liara," Kara said. "Let's do it."