Parallax
by Celtican
Ten: Academics
I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens. - Woody Allen
[Liara]
"...and based on the minimalist architecture prevalent throughout the site," she said, "I am tentatively dating it at forty to forty-five thousand years old. It likely corroborates Dr. Joshawn's data on the empire's decline and the so-called 'reaper' conflict. After all, you don't have time for aesthetics when your civilization is at near-constant war."
Liara T'Soni squeezed her eyes shut, the gesture the only thing she could do to combat fatigue and a stress headache building in her temples. She continued her dictation. "I will need to run some samples to accurately identify composition and other markers which will tighten up the date. At present, I am unable to do so because of...unwelcome guests arriving at the site."
The young asari doctor wiggled her toes inside her work boots. She grumbled, "As I stuck in a form of kinetic barrier cell, I postulate that this outpost was either a specimen research facility with containment cells, or a prison. I seem safe for the moment. I have not heard from my team in several hours. Note to self, thank Caera for her dictation and voice activation applications for my omni-tool, provided she is unharmed and able to accept thanks. End record."
Liara felt a new itch erupt on the back of her head. It was maddening, and she found herself wishing the extranet rumors of prehensile 'hair tentacles' were true. Damn it all, she thought. At least the krogan hasn't been back. It wasn't clear why there hadn't been steps taken by the silver-armored krogan and his team of automatons to cut the power to her cell. On the other hand, if they were here to steal tech or data, they may not care about whether she lived or died. Unless they didn't want witnesses...Liara shivered, a cold sweat trickling down her back. The temperature in the underground camp had risen a bit. Should she be worried about a seismic event? She laughed bitterly; as if there were anything she could do now to get herself to safety. She could barely move her head and hands. After three hours in suspension, she would be lucky to have feeling in her legs when (or if) she got out.
Once the krogan had come through, leaving some of the metal troops to curl up behind crates as an advanced guard, she'd heard gunfire and shouts for help, interspersed with bursts of static and clipped cries of pain over the comm channel. Had someone gotten a mayday off to the support ship? Was she alone here, in the heat and the dark with the bodies and blood of her friends and oh goddess please don't forsake me here-
Liara's panic abruptly cut off by the sound of the airlock cycling at the entrance to the camp. Her breath caught, eyes wide and frantic as she tried to see who was coming. She angled her head as best she could to get a better view, which largely did nothing to help. Her heart fluttered in her chest; is this where I die? Really? Like Shadra and Zherylla, like Caera? None of them stood a chance; only Shadra had any inclinations towards self-defense training, and only because she liked to flirt with anyone at a gun range. They were all sheltered lab geeks – not commandos or justicars.
A glint of gunmetal and a flashlight beam swung across the cavern. Answering movement came from the metal balls behind the crates, a time-lapse shot of nightmarish metal plants in bloom. Their sleek, terrifying rifles and torchlight heads came into view, pointing up at the figures at the head of the camp.
A brittle, crystalline silence passed, and then the world erupted in a blistering crescendo of noise. Liara's shoulders twitched, the only move she could make to try to cover her head and ears from the assault. She couldn't even complete the mnemonic kata she knew to bring up her personal barrier; goddess knew she sure as the hells wasn't going to trust millennia-old barrier technology to stop a modern-day bullet. I don't care if the Protheans were highly advanced...these things are old and I don't want to die!Her mind was becoming a wailing, grieving thing, begging to be swept away from the gunshots, biotic flares, and digitized death-rattle screams from the krogan's robots.
As quickly as it had begun, the barrage of sound stopped. Acrid smoke rose from the shredded metal of crates and creatures below. The only sounds came from collapsing weaponry and air recyclers kicking in to sweep away the impurities of battle. Liara started when she heard voices below.
A male, husky but precise: "Area secure, commander."
A female, strong and clear: "Fan out, look for survivors. We need to find out where the doctor is."
After a few minutes, another male spoke up, this one with the dual-toned burr Liara associated with turians: "Shit. Commander, I've got bodies."
"On my way," the female replied.
Another pause as booted feet walked from one side of the cavern to the other.
The first male spoke again. "Four asari...none of them matches the holo from our intel."
"They weren't combatants, that's for sure. Look at the defensive wounds on that one...and not a gun or a hard suit to be found." Liara closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. From the clinical delivery of his analysis, Liara knew the turian had seen corpses before...but not completely hardened against dead civilians. The compassion that underlay his practical statements threatened to burn her carefully compartmentalized grief.
"The people we're after aren't honorable sorts, Garrus," the commander replied. She spoke quietly, reassuring and empathizing without diminishing his place in the squad. Masterful management skills, if nothing else, Liara mused.
"Yes, ma'am," Garrus replied. "Just a reminder of why we're looking for Saren and Benezia."
Liara's eyes shot open. Why are they looking for mother? She thought, a new layer of anxiety scraping against already raw nerves. And why is that other name familiar? Who are these people, and what do they want with me, for that matter?
"Let's cover them for now; we can fully identify the bodies and prep the paperwork back on Normandy when we're finished here," the commander replied. "Here, give me a hand with this tarp." After a few minutes of crinkling plasti-tarp noises, Liara heard boots headed towards the elevator.
With sudden clarity that chilled Liara further, she realized she needed to decide, and fast. If these soldiers were looking for her and for Benezia, were they against the krogan's squad? She didn't have a choice about hiding; they would see her eventually. They'd fought against the robots, and seen to her (dead) friends. Could they be trusted? She wondered if she could manipulate the barrier with her biotics, cursing herself for treating the problem as an academic exercise and not as a survival scenario. Too late now...focus!
Liara cleared her throat, dry from talking to herself and the kicked up dust from the fight. "H-hello?" she called out, tentatively at first. "Is someone there?" The boots stopped, clanking hollow on the metal grate of the elevator platform.
"Hello?" the commander replied, her voice wary but calm. Liara heard the snap of weapons coming back out, unfolding for use (please oh please oh please don't kill me).
"Yes, hello! I am Dr. Liara T'Soni, University of Serrice, archeology department," she called down, her words rushing together nervously. She started, adding a hasty, "I'm unarmed!" She kicked herself for being so weak and lame-willed that she couldn't hold back the panic.
"Dr. T'Soni, I'm Commander Sabrina Shepard, Alliance Navy," the commander called back, crisp and confident. "I've been sent to ask you a few questions as a Council Spectre as well. Are you injured?"
"I'm not injured, Commander..." Liara wasn't sure if she was hallucinating from dehydration, but she also wasn't sure if she'd heard right about human Spectre. I really need to keep up with the news. "...Oh, but I don't think the people who attacked us have actually gone...I haven't seen them in a while."
"One thing at a time, doctor," the human woman replied, and Liara saw the elevator platform begin to descend. She readied herself to lash out with what biotics she could muster. She knew there wasn't much she could do against trained soldiers...but she could always hope they couldn't counter biotics. She'd be damned if she went out quietly. I've got papers to write, by the goddess! She thought giddily, adrenaline flooding her system.
When the elevator returned, she could see the three soldiers, heavily armed and in military grade combat armor, making their way to the front of her makeshift shelter. The male human and the turian flanked the smaller commander, her presence no less intimidating than her larger counterparts. Liara regarded each of them in turn. Of the three, Garrus represented the part of galactic civilization she was familiar with. The turian was just under seven feet of lean, predatory grace. His silver-gray plating and hide stood out against the blue armor he wore. He held a wicked-looking rifle in his slender talons. He held it carefully, like a musician would hold an instrument. He was on high alert, his gaze never staying long in one place. When the gaze landed on Liara, his greenish eyes meeting hers in challenge. Liara held it, knowing from her cultural studies class that all turians sized up strangers, assessing threat levels and potential weakness, regardless of species or prior relationship. If she looked away, she was deferring to his status, even if she didn't know what it was. Not happening, she thought. After a moment, Garrus seemed satisfied by what he saw (or was looking for), because he continued his visual sweep of the room.
Liara turned her attention to the human male. She didn't know much about humans beyond, again, her cultural studies class. She knew that males tended to run larger than females, but that tendency was never a guarantee. She knew they came in many distinct colors, and not in a monochrome gradient like asari did. The male approaching the barrier cell was small and compact, compared to Garrus, but seemed trim and athletic. He was lightly armored in gray armor, and when he turned his head Liara saw the external covering of a biotic amp sticking out from under his neatly-kept dark hair. His skin was slightly...brownish, but not as brown as some of the pictures she'd seen in her textbook His eyes looked somewhat like a type of nut found on Thessia, and the irises shared a similar copper-brown hue. He'd holstered his pistol, and was taking readings with a glowing omni-tool. As he approached, Liara felt the outward edges of his biotic fields. They were strong, held back by iron bands of control, but never quite contained. She felt it as if she stood on a breakwater during a hurricane, wind and rain and water lashing out for a chance to consume. It was such a startling contrast to the otherwise unremarkable way he carried himself that Liara felt confused, stunned as if that riptide sensation had indeed dragged her against the rocks of the cavern floor.
It wasn't uncommon for asari to sense these currents; indeed, that sense had helped the prehistoric asari hunt and defend themselves against biotic predators. Liara realized she'd missed the reassuring pressure of her fellow students' biotics; she'd started grieving on some level, even if she hadn't had time to really understand their deaths. Here, she faced someone who could probably give her a run for her credits in the biotics department...and he had military training, which she did not.
I really hope I don't need to find out how much he can throw at me...or that I at least get the chance to fire first.
"Doctor T'Soni?" The commander's question dragged Liara's attention away from the currents she sensed. Liara noted that, were they standing at the same level, Shepard would be shorter by a significant degree. She was small and bristling with a long rifle, shotgun, and pistol. Her green armor had no shine to it, as if to diffuse harsh reflections. There were small patches of what looked like black tape at various points on the armor. Liara guessed the tape held back or covered over things that might make noise, but she couldn't be sure. Shepard's skin was a color which reminded Liara of ancient parchment. Adding to that imagery was a gnarled, creased scar which crossed the commander's red-brown eyes, as if an accidental bend had scored an indelible line across her gaze. Shepard scratched the back of her head, ruffling her short crop of sweaty black hair in the process. She seemed to be a strange blending of the alert and menacing turian and the reserved human male.
"Thank the goddess," Liara said, "I was beginning to wonder if I was hallucinating."
Shepard smiled, a small, polite thing which touched her eyes briefly before disappearing under professional interest. "How did you get yourself stuck in there?"
"I believe the technical wording is desperate button mashing," Liara shrugged. "When faced with an angry krogan, you aren't picky about what you hide behind. Or in."
The commander barked a short laugh. "I see. So how do we go about getting you out?"
"There's a panel behind me, which I can't reach with my biotics; you'll need to find a way around, provided a cave in hasn't closed the other access tunnels yet."
Shepard nodded, considering the options. She turned to the two men behind her. "Vakarian, take a look around the cavern, see if there are any access controls on this side that we might have missed in the firefight. Lieutenant Alenko, see if you can radio Joker and get us a read on potential enemy contact further inside the complex. I'll ask my questions of the doctor in the mean time," she ordered, receiving acknowledgment and immediate action. Liara noted a quick look of concern from the lieutenant before he complied, and then he was out of her range of vision.
"Now," Shepard turned back to Liara. Her tone had shifted from polite curiosity to efficient professionalism with a speed that left Liara dizzy. "As I said, I've got some questions for you. I do not perceive you as a threat to me or my team, so I'm extending some trust your way. We aren't going to have any problems, are we?" The question was rhetorical, and slightly intimidating. Liara swallowed, shook her head. "You may invoke whatever rights you wish to avoid talking to me before you talk to a lawyer."
"What sort of questions do you have? I overheard you mention my mother's name on the way up. I will co-operate; I have nothing to hide."
Shepard inclined her head in assent, opening up a recording log on her omni-tool before she began. "Very well," she said. "Please tell me about the last time you recall speaking with Matriarch Benezia..."