Whipping around she snatched hold of Joker's arm, ignoring his startled yelp of pain as she all but bodily lifted him out of the pilot's chair.

{We have no more time!} she snapped as she hauled him toward the helm's escape pod. As the door hissed open she pushed him inside. He would probably suffer a few fractures but there was no time to be gentle.

Even as she shoved, she felt a shove herself as the helm erupted with a violent, flaming cough. Slamming into the edge of the pod door she rebounded, the force enough to tear her magnet locked boots away from the deck. Reaching out frantically she felt her fingertips brush over the frame of the pod hatch, saw Joker's alarmed face gape back at her, eyes wide.

He struggled up, trying to get to his feet, one hand reaching out as if he had any hope of catching hold of her.

{Commander!}

Shepard had dove flat onto her belly at the explosion, hands slapping over the back of her helmet instinctively. Beside her, she could vaguely sense Miranda had done the same as shards of twisted, heated metal rained down around them.

For an alarming moment, Shepard couldn't get her breath. Though she gasped, nothing but empty useless vacuum was burning at her throat.

My oxygen is leaking! The lines must have been cut in the blast! I'll fall into the gravity well-

But no. There was no gravity well. She was not in space, but rather laying flat on the floor of a refinery. Her next breath drew in plenty of oxygen.

Slamming her hands down she pushed up off the floor, sweeping up her pistol and aiming it toward the catwalk. A pair of forms hung dead from the twisted metal, another handful scattered over the ground just a few feet away. Being shielded by their cover had prevented the brunt of the explosion from hitting Shepard and Miranda but it was a close enough thing.

Fire jetted out of the torn tank and from ruptured pipes. Another distant rumble trembled underfoot as something further in the refinery gave way.

A form ran from the side and ducked through the edge of the spitting fire, aiming for a door only half-seen in through the flames. Shepard's fury was at full bore as she shouted after it.

"Zaeed!"

"We have to get out of here before the entire gatehouse goes up!" Miranda called. She was on her feet, a bit singed as Shepard was but apparently unhurt. Both women bolted for the door, half-ducking and lifting their arms to shield themselves as they charged past the flames. It was like passing through a molten waterfall, a roaring rush that lasted only an instant, the heat intense enough to feel even through their insulated hard-suits.

Then it was gone, and they were running through the inner door after Massani, finding themselves in the refinery courtyard.

Zaeed had stopped, bent over slightly with his hands on his knees, panting. Shepard didn't slow, shipping her pistol as she ran. She grabbed hold of the man and slammed him back against a support pylon for an upper catwalk.

"What the fuck was that?" she snarled.

"Getting rid of some of the resistance," he growled back. "Opening the goddamn doors."

"You do anything like that again without asking my goddamn permission and I'll turn you into a fucking smear on the fucking wall!"

"I didn't have time to spout 'please and thank you'! Vido was going to get away and still will, if we don't hurry!"

"You-"

"Help!"

A voice cut called out frantically from somewhere above. Instantly two helmets and one bare head turned upward toward the figure clinging to a catwalk above them. Fire was raging everywhere, having spread to the entire complex through the gas pipes. The man was clearly a civvie, his clothes streaked with soot, wide-eyed and shaking as he shouted down at them.

"Help us, please! Everyone's trapped! The fire! I tried to get to the others but I can't!"

"Fucking leave them," Zaeed snorted, grasping Shepard's arm and pointing. "Vido went this way-"

Her knuckles made a very satisfactory cracking sound as they slammed into his jaw, staggering him back slightly. She used his momentum to leverage her arm under his throat and pin him to the pylon. Behind her helmet face-plate, her eyes were almost as aflame as the refinery was.

"You'd leave these people to die? In a fire you fucking started?"

"Damn right I would," he grimaced. She pressed her arm tighter.

"We're getting them out, chun zhu." Her voice was low, almost perfectly calm. "You take a step any direction but along with me to get them out and there'll be no coming back from what I'll do to you."

Releasing him she turned and quickly scanned the area. Without waiting to see if Zaeed would follow, knowing that Miranda at least would, she jumped over a low railing and dropped down to a landing a few feet below where they stood. A moment later she heard another pair of feet drop to the metal landing…too light to be Massani.

By the time she reached the door into the refinery control center, however, she heard Massani's heavier weight slam to the ground as well.

The control center was dense with smoke, a riot of flame raging or spitting from a dozen different points. The heat was intense, even through her hard-suit, and the wail of an alarm klaxon was all pervasive.

{Abandon ship! All crew to pods!}

{This is SSV Normandy! We've taken heavy damage from an unknown dreadnought!}

"Help!" the voice was muffled, the distant slap of hands on glass banishing Joker's frantic voice from her memory, making her blink slightly. Out of the gloom Shepard saw faces peering desperately at her from behind a soot-streaked observation window.

Either Santiago and his Suns had rounded most of the civvies into the large work room when they'd first realized Shepard and her team were there, or else they had taken shelter within of their own accord when the first explosion had hit. Either way, they were now trapped, locked in what equated to a big metal and glass box in the middle of a raging inferno.

The glass was thick enough only the faintest of sounds was making it through, but the man on the other side was determined for her to hear.

"The door won't unlock until the fire's out," he shouted, Shepard straining to understand him. "The suppression system is down! It has to be activated manually from upstairs! The main office!"

Shepard nodded her understanding, giving him a sit-tight gesture. Spotting a wall unit Shepard tore it open, pulling out a re-breather mask and throwing it hard into Massani's chest. "Put that on. You stay down here and try and get that door open," she ordered him. "Lawson and I will go up and hit the suppression system."

She had more than one reason for leaving him behind to try and work the door…a task she knew would likely prove impossible. For one, she didn't trust him to watch her back, not after the shit he'd just pulled. Secondly, she wanted him to see those people's faces…people suffering, choking, terrified…because of what he'd done.

Getting up to the office was like working through a pit of damnation. Every few moments the ground would shake or rumble with burgeoning explosions. The air was filled with smoke so dense that they were relying more on their HUD's infrared displays than any hope of physical sight. The only light was from the flames themselves, and more than once they had to blindly charge through a curtain of fire and hope to come out the other end intact.

Shepard could feel the sweat beading on her face, trickling down her temples and neck as she strained with Miranda to close a final shut-off valve. The door to the office was blocked by a broken pipe, the ignited gas sheeting orange, white and red death between their position and the sealed door. If they didn't get this shut off there was no way they could enter. They'd be cooked inside their hard-suits long before they could get the door manually opened and inside.

Both women straining at full bore on the valve didn't seem to want to release it. Shepard mentally cursed her still-not-optimal condition as she grit her teeth. She could feel her arms knotting and strained even harder. What was a pulled muscle or a torn tendon compared to the deaths of all those people?

With a protesting groan, the valve suddenly slipped slightly, began to move. Hauling even harder, they finally managed to get it turned, the roaring jet blocking the doorway finally dying.

Her hand landed on Miranda's shoulder a moment as she stepped past, heading toward the now clear door.

The console was overheated, but she managed to bypass the lockdown and get the door to unlatch. It wouldn't open under its own power but the two women again put their shoulders to the wheel, struggling with it just enough to be able to slip within.

The office itself, thankfully, was undamaged though thinly fogged with smoke. Finding the suppression system's manual control, Shepard wrenched it open, then hauled down the lever.

Water instantly began to rain down as the gas mains deep beneath the complex clamped shut one by one. Watching the display nearby, Shepard didn't let out a breath until all the clamps showed green. If the fire had reached the main storage tank below the facility, the explosion would have been so huge rescue teams wouldn't have even found teeth to identify them.

With the gas off and the fire quickly dying, the air filtration systems were able to start thinning the black smoke. As they got back down to the main floor, they were able to see again without relying on their HUDs.

Zaeed and the civvies were soaking wet, but only Zaeed was scowling as Shepard and Miranda reached them. The civvies, free of their cage, clustered around with sodden, tearful thanks.

"Stay in here until the all clear," she told them. "We'll make sure the last of the Blue Suns is routed out and that they won't be coming back."

The majority of them retreated into the deeper offices, wanting to be well away from any direction the Suns might come in. A few went up to turn off the fire suppression systems, and after only a few moments the three from the Normandy found themselves alone.

"Can we go after Vido now?" Zaeed asked. "Or is there a kitten stuck in a tree you'd like to fetch first?"

"No," Shepard told him dryly, eyes flint. "I already have a fucking pussy along. Now move your ass before I put a bullet in it."

"Hey, I was shooting batarians before you were done pissing your nappies, little girl," he snarled after her as she strode out of the offices and into the corridors toward the main refinery floor.

"And now you're pissing yours, old man," she snapped back. "Risking people's lives so the big bad man who betrayed you gets his fucking spanking…"

"You don't think Vido is going to kill people if he gets away? You don't think his Suns will just keep on murdering and slaving-"

"Oh, so now it's a morality issue with you? Morals didn't figure in when you started the Blue Suns to begin with, or when you were willing to leave dozens of people to die in front of you."

"And you're better? The Butcher of Torfan…I hear you shot a little boy on his knees."

Shepard felt her gut grow cold despite the sweat still trickling down her neck. She said nothing, all her strength going in to not surgically removing his nose with a bullet. Zaeed snorted at her silence.

"Hit a soft spot, did I?"

She knew better than to keep her helmet off for any length of time during a serious op. If nothing else she'd learned that lesson very well on Feros, when a giant fungus in the shape of a human man had vomited in her face, the toxin nearly driving her both mad and to death.

She removed it now, however. The FSS was still sheeting water down in heavy sprays of artificial rain. Ducking her head under one of these sprays, she felt the cold bite into her cheeks, the grimy, itchy sweat washed away in an instant. Swiping back her now dripping hair she slammed her helmet back on and locked it down.

Miranda, more than wisely staying out of the middle of the confrontation, remained silent. Surprised that the commander hadn't taken a layer of skin off of Massani after that last comment, she moved forward only as they reached the refinery door, helping Shepard to pry it open.

Zaeed was the first one through, not even bothering to take a look and assess what might be beyond. It was fucking stupid, and for a bounty hunter of his experience, inexplicable. He couldn't have gained the reputation he had, survived as long as he had, by making such things a regular habit.

So he's either so blinded by revenge he's thrown all sense out the window completely, or the fucker is suicidal…or both.

Right now she didn't particularly care if he got himself killed. If one of the Suns didn't do it, she was tempted to do it her damn self.

Sadly, however, that didn't happen. There was no Suns ambush until they were halfway across the refinery floor, and what few troops had lingered behind were dispatched easily enough.

It was the heavy mech that suddenly lit up its face-plates in the distance that was of more concern.

The trio was hidden behind a stack of metal cargo containers, Miranda's blue eyes shifting a little as they regarded the mech. "Zaeed and I can hit it hard enough to distract it," she whispered to Shepard. "Let you get in close with a grenade."

"Grenade can't take out one of those," Zaeed snorted derisively. "That's a goddamn heavy. It's going to take a lot of firepower from all three of us to take that bastard down. Might be faster to find another way round, avoid it altogether."

"For some reason, Shepard has decided not to shoot you which demonstrates remarkable restraint," Miranda glared. "I pride myself on my restraint as well, but if you talk to me like that again, I'll slam your head into the ceiling with biotics until you forget your own name."

"You can't…" He began, then glanced past her to where Shepard was unshipping her sniper. "Jesus fucking…Shepard, I thought you were supposed to be some kind of elite soldier, best of the Alliance. You can't take down a goddamn heavy with a sniper. Caliber is too small to do more than scuff its panels and let it know exactly where we are."

She ignored him, carefully lining up her shot. Letting out a slow breath, she squeezed the trigger.

Above the mech, a gas transport module the size of the same cargo containers they were currently sheltered behind was in the grip of a transport claw. It had been in the process of being moved from the gas fill station to the cargo containers for storage. Her shot landed beautifully, right on the external emergency release.

The claw obediently snapped open, the one ton module almost gracefully beginning its fall.

Snapping her rifle down she ducked into a crouch, Miranda and Zaeed doing the same. They heard the module hit the mech and then the ground with a heavy boom that shook the floor, only to be followed seconds later by a much deeper boom. The module had ruptured as it hit the mech, the gas ignited by the heavy's dying sparks. The cargo containers rattled in the wake of the blast. When they'd settled again, Shepard looked over them and toward where the mech had stood.

There was now only a twisted ruin of blackened metal. Save for a few tiny pieces, it was impossible to tell what had been mech and what had been container.

"Well I'll be…" Zaeed blinked.

"Let's move," Shepard ordered, swapping her sniper for her machine pistol, moving around the containers and past the half melted chunk of debris toward the door. As she reached it, she heard the distinct whine of powering engines.

Fresh air surrounded them as the door snapped open. It was the back landing pad of the refinery, nothing but trees and sky beyond. A gunship, lathered with the Blue Suns insignia, was just lifting off. Weapon ready Shepard ran out onto the platform but it was Zaeed who fired, letting off a furious torrent from his rifle at the armored ship. For one crazy moment, Shepard almost thought he'd succeed in taking it down. All it would take would be a single lucky shot cracking the canopy and hitting the pilot, or puncturing a thin section of armor and overloading the engine's power core.

Then the blasts of fire stopped, replaced with ratcheting as the gun's thermal clip overheated. Snarling, Zaeed slapped it out. His face was streaked with sweat and lines of grime. Flecks of spittle coated his lips as he panted through clenched teeth. Tearing his eyes off the gunship he aimed his weapon at Shepard's face.

"You just cost me twenty years of my life!" he bellowed at her. Shepard more or less ignored him. He'd gotten his old clip out but hadn't replaced it, so his gun wasn't going to fire anyway. And only a fucking fool would take their eyes off an actual gunship that was still in range of-

"Incoming!" Shepard barked a warning as the unmistakable contrail appeared. The ship had fired a missile back at the dock, Vido's final 'fuck you'.

Shepard and Miranda dove for cover as the missile struck. Slamming to the ground, Shepard could hear heavy debris pelting all around them. Risking a look, she saw that Miranda had covered them with a biotic bubble, shielding them from the worst of it.

Gingerly climbing to her feet, Shepard took stock.

You know it's a bad day when you lose count of the explosions, she thought with a derisive snort, looking at her companion.

"You ok?"

"Little rattled, but all right," Miranda answered. "Massani?"

Shepard's eyes narrowed as she peered around, then lightly slapped the Australian's shoulder, pointing. "There."

Zaeed was on the ground, coughing. A girder, torn free from the blast, pinned his lower body. As she strode over, Shepard assessed the situation. He was trapped…might have a broken leg but the girder wasn't big enough to do a huge amount of damage. He'd probably even be able to move it himself, given a lot of time and frustration.

As he spotted her he grunted. "Get this goddamn thing off of me."

"No," Shepard replied, drawing off her helmet. His gun had landed close beside him and she kicked it aside before crouching , setting her helmet down.

"The fuck, Shepard…you can't just leave me here!"

She shrugged, glancing at the girder. "Hmm. Don't see why not."

"So that's it then? You can't take someone talking back to you so you're just going to leave me to rot."

She looked at him intently, face stone. "No, Zaeed. You see, the Collectors took my friend. A woman who saved my life, who was the only real mother I can ever remember having. They could be doing anything to her, do you understand? Anything. She's probably even already dead but that doesn't matter. I'm going after them, and nothing is going to get in my way. What does your life matter when compared to that?"

"Oh, I get it…you're going to leave me trapped here like I was going to leave the civvies."

"This isn't a fucking lesson, Zaeed. I don't have the air or the patience to sit here and try and teach you something about life. What this comes down to is simple. You're a fucking risk. You don't listen to orders, you put your team members and innocent people in danger time and again for your own personal agenda. That bullshit does not fly with me. We could have been killed, do you understand that? I don't need that on my ship or on my mission, so as far as I'm concerned, you can fucking rot here."

"Fine, leave me," he glowered. "But remember, it's you that needs me, not the other way round. Or did you forget our little side deal?"

Shepard glanced up toward Miranda, who was lingering out of ear shot, looking over the missile damage and calling the Normandy. She looked back down at him.

"Like you're the only fucking bounty hunter or piece of shit scum with contacts that I can get," she scoffed. "I can't have you on my ship or my team."

He was silent as he stared at her with his mismatched eyes. It was only as she went to straighten that he spoke again. "Is it true you put your own forehead to a batarian's gun on Omega?"

She paused, settling back into her crouch again as she looked at him. "Yes," she said simply.

"Scuttlebutt on the lower decks says you did it to save a civvie, a doctor."

"So?"

"Takes balls," he answered. "You've got a serious set, you know that Shepard? It's been…too fucking long since I had to worry about having a team. Been on my own, doing things my own way, for more years than I care to count. I can't remember the last time anyone's dared talk to me the way you did."

"If you've got a point, get to it. I have things to do."

"I'm not done chasing Vido," he told her. "Man took my life away, everything I had. You of all people should understand what that's like. Nothing tears you apart inside quite the same as dying. Everything you worked for, bled for…everyone you cared about, all banished with a single trigger pull. Seems you've turned that pain into a drive, a determination to make things right. I turned mine into a drive too…one to make that man pay. Maybe it would have been different if I'd had someone…well, doesn't matter. I'm not proud of what I've become, Shepard…or who I was before that trigger was even pulled. Man makes a lot of mistakes in life."

Shepard watched him silently. She didn't think he was just blowing smoke up her ass to get her to give him a second chance. He knew he could get out himself given a couple hours and some struggling. He didn't need the Normandy at all…didn't need her crusade for any reason, except perhaps the money. Even then, his desire for vengeance burnt hotter than any need for money. All he had to do was let her and Miranda walk away, extract himself, then continue on his hell-bent mission after Vido.

No, this wasn't smoke.

"I can't trust you, Zaeed," she said tiredly.

"I know, but I want the chance to earn it. Maybe do something right for a damn change. I want to try, Shepard. Doing things my own way...well, look where it got me. Tell you what. If I give you cause even one more time, you can put a bullet in my head. And then I can spend the next twenty years chasing you down with a face even prettier than mine is now."

Despite herself, Shepard had to fight a smirk. Sighing, she wiped a hand over her face, shaking her head and getting to her feet. "You're a fucking lucky bastard, that's all I have to fucking say," she sniffed, then gripped hold of the girder to lift it free.

Pale fingers rested lightly on the asari's dark blue crest a moment, affectionately, before they fell away. Gellian leaned over Eír's shoulder, peering into the mirror.

She avoided looking at her own face as much as she was able. Gaunt, haggard, whatever loveliness the human woman had once possessed was lost in this ghost of herself. She hid the worst of the drug use, the headaches, from both her children.

Eír had a road to greatness spread before her. Gellian no longer cared what happened to her. Had it not been for Eír and Thug she would be dead already. Her mind was lost, only a ghost of what it once had been. Not-Shepard was her almost constant companion now, along with other, darker beings that tore at her head with their claws, gnawed at her good-sense with their poisonous teeth.

No. Gellian was gone. The tormented shell that remained had only one drive, one purpose. She had to see that Eír met her destiny…one that required her entire focus to be on her training, her entire being bent on its conclusion.

Shepard had to die.

There was no time for second guesses. No time for the girl to be distracted with Gellian's failing health and mental stability…nor by anything else.

"What is this I hear of a hunt?" she asked, watching as the girl carefully daubed patterns of white face-paint on her skin…familiar patterns.

"Buhto is taking his boys and Thug on a hunt," Eír replied. "It is part of their training. They get to take only rudimentary weapons and the greatest honor goes to the biggest kill taken with the weakest weapon. They say Buhto strangled a dirt rhino with his bare hands on his first hunt."

"The krogans way of training is for the krogan," Gellian replied. "Your way is of the asari, which is why you are under Matriarch Misira and Shrive's tutelage. This hunt is not your concern."

Eír blinked at her in the mirror, pausing in her painting a moment. "Why not? Yeah, it's Tuchanka and it's a bit different but the asari have a hunt as well, on Thessia. Theirs is just in the sea."

"And the Matriarch thinks it wise that you participate in this hunt as well?"

"The Matriarch thinks there is wisdom in all experiences," she touted. "She says there are things I will learn on the hunt that I cannot learn as well any other way."

"So the Matriarch will be with you?" Gellian asked, straightening a little.

"No. This is for the students. She'll be staying back as will Buhto. The boys will go on their own and so will I and Shrive-"

"Shrive is no student," Gellian spat with a venom that surprised even her. Eír's eyes widened a little in startlement at its vehemence. "She is your teacher as well. Why is she not staying back?"

"Shrive is Misira's student," Eír retorted. "Why does it matter? As you said, the hunt is not the same for the krogan as it is for the asari, not even on Tuchanka. I can't go with the boys, it wouldn't be the same, and I can't go alone."

"Why not?"

"Why does it matter?" Eír asked.

"This…this matters!" Gellian snapped, batting the small pot of face-paint out of the girl's hand. Eír was so startled she could only stare in shock. Gellian fixed her daughter's gaze, her own hot and fevered. "I know! I know what this is, Eír! I am not blind nor a fool!"

"What is wrong with you?" Eír gasped. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, she doesn't realize!" Not-Shepard, who had been lingering in the corner watching with silent glee, now chortled. "Poor precious little young Eír. So sweet and naïve of herself."

Gellian trembled, her furious gaze sliding to the hallucination in the corner before re-fixing on her daughter. "There are too many distractions here," she said bluntly. "You are here for training, to learn, nothing else."

"I am training and learning," Eír retorted.

"And face paint? Where does that come in?"

"Both Misira and Shrive use it. Asari paint their faces, Mother! You know that."

"Not all," Gellian glowered. She didn't mention that asari more often than not chose their own patterns, something with special meaning to them. Misira and Shrive both did so but their patterns were different from each other's. Eír's, however, was a replication of Shrive's.

"Why are you so upset?" Eír pressed. Gellian took her daughter by the shoulders and looked intently into her eyes.

"What are we doing, Eír?" she asked. "What is it that you want the most?"

Eír blinked, then narrowed her eyes slightly. "To kill Shepard," she answered. "You know that."

"Oh no, she doesn't," Not-Shepard interjected with a happy sing-song. "She did until she got here, now she wants-"

"You remember how dangerous she is," Gellian warned, ignoring the shade. "She will kill you and she will kill your brother if you're not ready. You cannot be distracted, Eír. Shepard must die."

"I-I know," Eír replied faintly.

"Do what you must, Eír. Learn. Be strong. Be focused. Everything will be yours, everything. None will match you in power, in strength, but first…Shepard must die. Don't throw that away over foolishness."

"I…didn't realize face paint was such foolishness," Eír replied, confused. Not-Shepard chortled again, dancing around in mad little circles, all but ecstatic with delight.

"She doesn't know, she doesn't know," she sing-songed. "She doesn't know her own poor fake little heart!"

Gellian dropped her hands, suddenly weary beyond mention. "If you are wise, girl…and I pray that you are…when your training is done, when you have finally beaten your teacher and stand with your knife on her throat…you will cut it."

As she walked away, Eír stared after her. Had Gellian heard of her stalking Shrive in the athenaeum? Had someone seen, realized how close she'd come to ending the older asari right then and there? If so, she'd have more expected her mother to warn her off, tell her that killing Shrive served no purpose and opened up the potential for far too many allies turning into enemies…not actually encouraging her to do it!

As they stepped back aboard the Normandy, all Shepard wanted was a shower. She was grimy and itchy with sweat, muscles aching miserably with over-use, and right now sheer heaven could be translated into simple water, cranked to the point it was almost scalding.

As she stepped in through decom, however, and saw Kelly waiting there, she felt her hopes for that shower dim a little.

The yeoman nodded politely to Zaeed and Miranda as they stepped inside, the former limping a bit but fortunately without any broken bones. Shepard was the last one in, and fixed Chambers with a tense, wary glance.

"What…?" she hedged.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Chambers said politely. "It's good to see you all returned none-the-worse for wear. I know that you probably want a shower and a hot meal so I will not keep you long."

"It's not life-threatening is it?" Shepard asked. "It's not going to make me want to punch things?"

"On the contrary, ma'am, I'm hoping it will make you very happy," Chambers told her. "We have the files you asked for, all the information that Cerberus has on Dr. T'Soni and her movements since the original Normandy went down. The OSD is sitting on your desk upstairs, waiting your perusal. More, you have received a private communication, a recording. The information contained within is highly encrypted, its origin very well masked…however it was sent with a name."

"What name?"

"Tianlán."

Shepard stared only a half a breath, before she strode past the yeoman, dumping her helmet into the woman's arms as she did. It took all she had not to break into a run as she walked through the CIC and to the lift.

The ride seemed to take forever. Shepard was half-way out of her hard-suit by the time she reached the Crow's Nest. Her civvies underneath were clinging to her with half-dried sweat and she knew she reeked of smoke and stink, but the shower was all but forgotten. Powering on her console she spotted the two files immediately.

The larger was the information file from Cerberus. She ignored that one, her eyes fixing to the link for the second.

A single word. It was Chinese for 'sky blue', the nickname that Shepard had given to Liara almost the very moment they'd first met. Settling into her chair, she took a deep breath and selected it.

The screen went dark. A breath later, it brightened again, bringing with it the image of a familiar face.

It was Liara. She had seated herself in front of a plain background, only a featureless wall behind her, giving no clue as to her location. She looked well, healthy if not a bit tired. Though her eyes fixed to the screen her gaze seemed to look through it, avoid it, and her body language spoke of hesitation.

"Shepard," she murmured, then hesitated, looking downward a moment before lifting her gaze again. "I am…sorry. I have started this message a dozen times and cannot seem to…i-it doesn't matter. When I heard you were alive again, I could not believe it. I pulled so many strings, trying to find out if it was true and-…"

She broke off. Shepard could see the dampness on her lashes, and could feel her own eyes heating as she watched the asari try to regain some composure. After a moment, she went on.

"So much has happened, since…since I lost you," she murmured. "I thought the entire galaxy had fallen apart with the Normandy. Those first few months are mostly just a blur. It…took a long time, Shepard, before I started to feel anything again…anything but pain, I mean. There is…there is too much to go into over a simple recording. Perhaps one day we can meet in person and talk but…I can't. Not right now. It is still too raw. I had just started to believe I could be happy again and then this…perhaps that sounds selfish. You may have heard that I work for the Broker now. That is how I found out that you were brought back. When he told me that you were on Omega, I had to send those packages. I knew you would be worried about me, and I had to let you know that I was all right. And…I could not think of my Del without her cigars."

She gave a tiny smile, then looked down again as the dampness in her eyes welled and overflowed down her cheeks. Her lip trembled a moment before she bit it, then took a shuddering breath. "Shepard, you mean so much to me. I know you may not understand but as I said, so much has happened since you left. So much has changed. I'm doing such important work right now and there is..."

She wiped a hand over her cheeks, straightening a little. Shepard sat back, eyes unfocused, reflecting the asari's face.

"There is no easy way to say it. He was there, Shepard. He helped me through so much of the pain," Liara spoke quickly, as if afraid the slightest hesitation would shatter her resolve. "He asked nothing in return. He had no reason to be so understanding, so patient with me and yet….he was there, Shepard."

Anger seemed to tinge the grief in her voice, and she wiped her cheeks again, then shook her head. "Well. I…cannot tell you where I am right now. As I said, I am in the midst of some very important work…as I know you are. You could never be anywhere than right in the thick of the fray. I just wanted you to know that I am all right, to tell you that what we had…I will always cherish it."

She looked up again, her aqueous blue eyes seeming to fix directly to Shepard's brown. "One day we will talk again, see each other again," she promised. "If nothing else, you will always be my friend, Shepard…I will always care for you. Please…stay safe. I…"

She broke off again, eyes slipping away a moment before she covered them. A silent moment passed before her hand lowered and she murmured a simple 'good-bye.'

The recording ended.

Shepard shut her eyes.