The light from a dozen different displays cast over Shepard's face in a rainbow of colors. Ten minutes in front of them and she was already wondering how Liara did it. So much information, so much going on at once…she'd have lost her mind.
That's why she's the brain and you're the brawn.
"The Broker had so many contacts it would take me years to catalogue them all," Liara was saying. "He had access to the top levels of nearly every government, research project, or colony – galactically. Already I have found weapons and ship technology that is above cutting edge, some barely beyond the drawing board. For example, here…"
She selected a screen, drawing it forward until dominated the view. "The turians have produced a ship-mounted design based on the magnetohydrodynamic weapons Sovereign used at the Citadel…the same kind of weapon that destroyed the first Normandy. It is called the Thanix cannon."
"Would this tech work with the new Normandy?" Shepard asked.
"It would, with very minor tweaks in design. I can even arrange for the resources it would need…but you would need a very talented team of engineers to build and install it."
"I have a talented team of engineers," Sydney piped up from behind them. Both women turned to look at her, having forgotten that she was even there, standing with Wilcher who had returned from the infirmary.
The blonde shrugged. "It's what Thanatos does," she said. "We're not mercenary. We still provide several services to the Alliance but we also do ship-work and design. I've got the men with the know-how, and I have the dry-dock. You get the schematics and resources to the Folly and we can slap any upgrades you want onto the Normandy. Fuck, we could rebuild her into a goddamn cruiser if you wanted."
"I don't think that will be necessary," Shepard said with a smirk. "I don't know that we'd be able to pay you-"
"Fuck that," Sydney snorted. "You let us keep the schematics when we're through and we'll call it even."
"Done," Shepard affirmed. "Li, if you can forward any upgraded ship designs, specifically focused on weapons and armor to the Normandy, I'll have my people brainstorm and see which ones are the most suited to our purposes. Syd, we'll forward the schematics to the Folly. As for resources-"
"Resources are not a problem," Liara told her. "I can easily arrange for more than we will ever need. Simply let me know what is required and I will have them delivered to the Folly as well."
"All right then. What about on a smaller scale? Biotic amp upgrades, infantry weapons, personal armor or shielding…what about that shield the Broker had?"
"He had a second prototype but I would highly recommend against using it. As you saw in the fight, there were some flaws in design that would prove more hindrance than help. For example, when initially powering up the shield's energy field renders the wearer completely immobile for several seconds. And while they are very difficult to compromise…well. You saw the result when they are."
"Yeah, and I have no desire to explode," Shepard agreed. "Scrap that then."
"He does have some weapons prototypes down in the armory, next to the firing range," Liara supplied. "If you like you may try a few out, and the ones you find suitable, I can submit the schematics to the Folly as well for reproduction."
She glanced around at Sydney. "Are your men able to build infantry weapons as well?"
"Honey, we can build you the Citadel if you give us the schematics and supplies," Sydney smiled. "We got you covered."
"Great!" Shepard grinned at her. Liara half glanced away, jaw tightening a little.
It was just a smile. They are old friends.
Yes, but Shepard so rarely smiles like that, and…
Just….stop.
As they headed down to the firing range, Sydney fell into step next to Shepard, reaching over and tugging up her sleeve, snorting when she saw only unmarked flesh.
"I see you still haven't got yourself inked, Delilah. What? Your skin too pretty?"
"Nah, just thought it would be a little tasteless to have 'Fuck You Sydney' written on my arm, is all," Shepard shot back with a smirk.
The blonde gave Shepard a light punch to the shoulder, which only made her laugh, Wilcher chuckling as well as he tromped behind them.
Liara couldn't help the glance at the blonde, her gaze probably a bit more stony than she had intended. The former marine apparently didn't notice, only drawing back her own sleeve to show Del her latest work.
The armory flanked the firing range, the sight of which made Shepard whistle. "I haven't seen a setup like this on a ship before. I may have to move in, Tianlán."
"I would not complain," Liara smiled softly. Shepard gave her a wink, then headed over to the weapons display. Not fifteen minutes later, the air was filled with a barrage of gunfire as Shepard, Sydney, and Wilcher all unloaded at the targets on the far end of the range. Liara, leaning against the wall and watching them, idly danced a small flare of biotic energy over her fingers, her continuing internal argument hardly improving her mood.
She left Sydney a long time ago. They made that choice. You know her mind and her heart, Liara. Shepard loves you.
People can fall out of love…and back into it again. Sydney is human. Look at them. They're both warriors, kindred spirits. You can never share in what they have, not truly.
They have only friendship. You are the one that has her heart.
Do I? She's never said the words. I have not seen her in days, and yet she is talking and laughing with Sydney and I am here holding up the wall.
She's also laughing and talking with Wilcher. They are her friends, Liara. You do not begrudge her time spent with Tali, do you? You could be right over there with them instead of sulking here like a child.
Shepard fired off three more shots with the new rifle she'd taken off the wall, before looking it over. Speaking to Sydney for a moment she handed her the weapon, pointing out some feature or another on the side. Straightening abruptly from her lean, Liara headed their way.
"Shepard, if I may speak with you a moment?"
Glancing up, Shepard blinked at her, then nodded. "Of course, Tianlán."
Excusing herself she headed toward the asari, who gestured at the door. "Somewhere private?"
"Yeah, sure…you ok?"
"I am fine," Liara said tersely, then turned and walked toward the door. Shepard trotted after her, shaking her head.
"That tone says you're anything but fine," Shepard said as she caught up. Seeing the corridor was empty, she caught hold of Liara's arm to halt her, only to suddenly be shoved back against the wall. She stared at Liara's simmering blue gaze.
"Li-" She broke off as the asari suddenly kissed her, pressing against her tightly. Shepard found herself panting when it broke.
"Whoo…Li…wow, what's going on?" Shepard asked. "Not that…I'm not complaining, this is just…this isn't like you-"
Liara shook her head, coloring a little before she took Shepard's hand. Without answering, she lead the commander through the ship and into a private room. Given the look of them, they seemed to be her personal quarters. As she released her hand, Shepard halted her again, taking her shoulders.
"Li," she said with gentle concern. "Talk to me."
"I-I am being foolish," Liara replied, visibly upset. "I know that I am but…I cannot help it. I know that you care about me, and-"
"Of course I care about you," Shepard said, concern turning to full-on worry. "Slow down…just tell me what's going on?"
"She is like you are, she is strong, a warrior…human. You look up to her, admire her and I cannot help think that she is a better mate for you than I am. You have so much in common, and I am just a silly tagalong that-"
"Liara!"
"She is blonde!" Liara shot in a rage, her hands clenched at her sides.
"This is about Syd?" Shepard stared. "Liara, you're jealous of Sydney?"
Liara walked away, moving to a chair before dropping into a sit, lowering her head into her hands. A moment later she dropped them as Shepard walked over.
"Y-yes," she admitted, looking up at Del before shaking her head. "And no. I…I know that there is no reason to be. I know your heart, I do. I just…I am still so terrified I am going to lose you again. I hate…I hate feeling this way…"
"Tianlán…"
Going over, Shepard knelt down in front of her, taking her hands. The fading bruises under her eyes only made her gaze seem deeper somehow.
"Sydney is just a friend," she said.
"I-I know…"
"There is only one person that keeps me going, Liara."
"I-I know, I do…"
"If all it took were her being like me than I'd still be with her. I don't want Sydney Rasler, not any more. I was young and it just…it was what it was. It's been over a long time. I want you, Liara. What I feel for you I never even got close to with Sydney. It doesn't even compare. I'm…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked her to come here-"
"No…no, it is all right," Liara replied. "I know why you sent her and to be honest, I quite like her. It is good that she is here."
Releasing her hands, Shepard cupped Liara's face, leaning forward until their foreheads were touching. "Tell me what I can do."
"You do not need to do anything," Liara murmured. "I will be all right. I will find a way to get over this."
Shepard slipped her arms around the asari, hugging her close.
No one question Shepard and Liara's sudden disappearance for a few hours, nor said anything once they'd reappeared. After directing a few of the prototype weapons to be put into the shuttle, the schematics already in Sydney's omni-tool to be forwarded to the Folly, the pair stopped by the infirmary to see if progress was being made on that front.
"Good news," Mordin said the moment he spotted them coming in. "First analysis of blood sample, promising. Incredible work, very impressive. No less than six types of cross-species genetic markers."
"What's that mean?" Shepard asked, glancing from him to Miranda. "Eír is made up of…six different species?"
"On a very basic level," Miranda nodded. "The dominant sequences are all asari, of course, but she has distinct markers from krogan, turian, human, drell…even vorcha."
"Vorcha?"
"Yes, vorcha adaptability…incredible work," Mordin gushed. "Managed to meld incompatible species DNA seamlessly, ground-breaking. Would have said impossible if not seen with own eyes."
"It is fascinating," Liara admitted. "But it is not the problem we are trying to solve. We need to know if there's a way to undo the programming Osco inflicted to make Eír hate Shepard."
"Ah, far more complicated," Mordin admitted. "Programming will take time to unravel, pinpoint. Could be conditioning, biological imperative written on genes, or cybernetic technology."
"We're not seeing any indication that Osco used cybernetics or nanite technology in creating Eír but we cannot completely rule it out."
"Conditioning or tech would be best outcome," Mordin told Liara. "Conditioning, easy enough to break, rewrite. Cybernetics, reprogrammable, removable. Genetic biological imperative…would be unfortunate."
"How would you fix it if it's in her genes?" Shepard wanted to know.
"We can't," Miranda admitted. "Not really. Not without completely tearing her apart on a genetic level. We might be able to block the affected alleles but the results would be spotty at best. The good news is, it's unlikely that Osco engraved this imperative directly on her genetic code. There would be far too many unknown factors and results, even for a genius like her to take into account. It would have taken decades of supercomputer calculation before being feasible."
"What else do you need to know for sure?" Liara asked. "More samples?"
"Would be helpful if we could examine subject in person," Mordin admitted. "Not feasible, however, given circumstances. Brain tissue sample also would be good, but also not feasible…deep brain sample, not compatible with life."
"If they could get us an actual brain scan, however, it would be immensely helpful in pinpointing any cybernetics, even ones small enough to be molecular. They should be able to obtain one from any normal doctor."
"I will let Eír and Shrive know," Liara agreed. "They want this problem solved as swiftly as we do. I'm sure they will not hesitate to send a scan."
"Good, good. Look forward to results," Mordin replied, then turned his eyes to Shepard. "Commander, would like a moment. Have received troubling news."
"News? What kind of news? When?" Shepard asked, straightening as she followed him over to the far side of the infirmary.
"Five minutes ago. Call on my omni-tool. Encrypted, untraceable line, location of Broker base not compromised. Urgent news. Former colleague, former student, Maelon. STG. Worked with me on genophage adaptation. Been taken."
"Taken? Taken by who?" Shepard asked. "What adaptation?"
Mordin actually looked troubled, lowering his head a little. "Work in STG, modified krogan genophage. Krogan adapting to original genophage, overcoming. Had to adapt, keep numbers down. Maelon was on project as well, assistant, student."
Shepard's glare was hot. "The krogan were overcoming the disease your people gave them and you helped adapt it so they wouldn't?"
"Correct. Had no choice. Krogan population would have exploded, overtaken galaxy. Genophage only solution, bring breeding rate down on par with galactic norms-"
"You crippled an entire species," Shepard said, voice low but her anger not even remotely soothed.
"Would have overrun galaxy, destroyed other species…sorry you are angry, do not understand. Was not a decision made lightly, only feasible solution besides extinction. Beside point. Maelon in danger. Was taken to Tuchanka by krogan. Possible they discovered his assistance on genophage modification, wish to punish him, perhaps force him to undo modification."
"Is that possible? Undoing the modification?"
"With time and study, yes…most things possible. Shepard, krogan may be torturing Maelon. Need to get him back safe. Can discuss moral implications of genophage later. Life on the line."
Shepard scowled, but she couldn't argue that. However much she may have disagreed with the genophage and the salarian's work to put into effect, she couldn't leave someone to be tortured or murdered because of it. And Mordin was clearly troubled…if nothing else, he was a member of her crew and she needed his mind on the mission.
"Tuchanka," she murmured, then nodded with a sigh. "All right. I was of half a mind to go there anyway. Grunt's been getting more and more out of hand…edgy, when we're not on a mission. Might be good to get a krogan opinion as to why."
"Good, thank you. Appreciate…more than can be said. Maelon last seen near Urdnot territory-"
"Urdnot," Shepard blinked, then grinned. "Might look up an old friend while we're there too, then."
Her smile vanished quickly as she looked over toward Liara, the asari chatting with Miranda and Chakwas. Her heart sank. If Maelon was in trouble they'd have to leave right away…and not tomorrow as they had been planning. She hated cutting her time with Liara short…they had so little of it together right now.
Looking back at Mordin she said, "We'll head back to the ship right away, set in a course for Tuchanka. Get what things together you need."
Stepping away from him she went over to the three women, nodding at Miranda and Helen. "I need you two to pack up and head back toward the shuttle. Miranda, can you round up Tali as well? We need to go as soon as possible."
"Go? I thought you were remaining until tomorrow," Liara's brows knit. "Shepard…"
"I know," she said softly as the other two stepped away. "Something urgent has come up. I need to go to Tuchanka. I'm so sorry, Sky Blue."
Liara's shoulders sagged a little. "At least we had some time…"
Shepard hugged her gently. "I will be back," she murmured in the asari's ear. "As soon as I can."
"I know…I will be waiting," Liara murmured back. "However long it takes."
Tuchanka looked like a vast wasteland from the shuttle viewports as they descended. Ruins of once vast cities spread like jagged teeth from a desert, scorched by hot sun and scoured by sharp wind…scars from the Rebellions, uncounted wars. Most of the population lived half-sheltered in the lower half of the ruined cities. At first glance, Tuchanka might look completely deserted, but that was far from the truth. Besides the krogan, a surprising variety of wildlife also called the ragged deserts home…everything from varren to thresher maws.
Grunt looked less than pleased as he scowled down at it, however.
"This is Tuchanka?" he rumbled. "The great krogan home world? Birthplace of Shiagur? This is a scarred waste!"
"Looks can be deceiving, Grunt," Shepard told him. "Scars show what has been endured and the most ragged face just shows the great battles survived."
"Hmm," he conceded, then looked at her. "We will be seeing your friend? The warlord?"
"He acknowledged my message and gave us leave to dock," Shepard nodded.
"And he will help this…this itching go away?" Grunt asked. "Figure out what's wrong with me? Help me be krogan?"
"If anyone can, he can," Shepard reassured.
The shuttle fell into shade momentarily as it passed through part of the ruins, into the lower reaches, before landing. As soon as the door opened and they climbed out, Shepard could smell the dry, burning heat of the upper desert, the earthy smell of broken concrete.
A pair of krogan, both huge, both armed, were waiting as they emerged, measuring them with distaste.
"The clan leader wants to see you," the largest one grumped. "This way."
"Krogan not too fond of aliens," Mordin murmured as they moved after the pair. "Unusual to let any but asari onto home world…even then, rare to happen."
"Why asari?" Grunt asked.
"Powerful warriors, and the only way a lot of krogan can actually breed," Shepard told him. "If there was no genophage even asari probably wouldn't be allowed here."
They moved into a big courtyard ringed with crumbling walls. Dozens of krogan eyed them, most with grimaces or glares, as they followed their escorts. Soon enough, however, Shepard saw a familiar face and grinned.
Wrex looked no different than he had the last time she'd seen him. It was shortly after the battle at the Citadel, when he'd left her crew and headed back here, determined to try once again to make a difference for his people.
When he caught sight of her his grin was no less, and he abandoned the male he was talking to, pushing past her escorts as if they weren't there.
"Shepard! My friend!"
"Wrex, you old varren…it's good to see you."
He clasped her hand tightly before his gaze shifted to Grunt. He ignored Mordin as if the salarian weren't even present. "And what's this? Picking up younglings to take my place?"
"Wouldn't have to if you'd get off your lazy ass and join me," Shepard joked. Wrex laughed, then jabbed a finger at the younger male.
"What's your name, boy?"
"I am Grunt," he replied.
"No clan name? At your age? Why not?"
"Grunt isn't exactly like other krogan," Shepard hedged. "He wasn't born, he was grown in a tank by the Warlord Okeer."
"Okeer," Wrex blinked, then bobbed his head. "You need the Rite, boy."
"The Rite?"
"All krogan go through the Rite when they reach your age. It proves them, gives them clan and purpose."
"Ah, puberty ritual," Mordin nodded.
"The Rite," Grunt rumbled, then nodded. "Yes. Let's do that. I want to do the Rite."
"It's not as easy or as fast as all that, boy," Wrex smirked. "If you want to be a part of Urdnot you will have to think on the matter, and our Shaman will have to approve."
"Sounds involved," Shepard said. "And it will have to wait a little. We have other business that must come first. Wrex, a salarian scientist might have been taken by some krogan near here. Have you heard anything about that?"
"Salarian?" Wrex pondered. "Yeah, my scouts mentioned something about a salarian. He was with the Blood Pack. That means Clan Weyrloc."
He half turned as another came up to him, giving Shepard a suspicious look before addressing Wrex. "Members of Clan Dundrin and Clan Tellvik have arrived."
The old krogan bobbed his head. "I will meet with them," he agreed, before looking back at his friend. "Go talk to my chief scout, Shepard. He can better direct you regarding the salarian. And after you're done blowing stuff up, come back here. We can discuss getting your boy his Rite…and I do believe we have some unfinished business to attend to."
The scout passed along what information he knew, and directed them on where to find Clan Weyrloc. At first he was reluctant to even speak to them, his glares toward Shepard and Mordin sharp enough to cut ice, but apparently he did not want to risk angering Wrex. In the end, he even arranged for transport to the edge of Weyrloc territory.
They narrowed their search down to an old hospital which was suspiciously well-fortified. Wiping out the resistance outside of it, which mostly consisted of vorcha and a few stubborn Blood Pack foot soldiers, they entered the building only to be greeted by a horrific site.
A body lay half rotted, sprawled across the lobby floor. For a moment, Shepard was certain that it was the very salarian they were looking for, before she realized it was, in fact, human.
Edging forward she crouched, brows knitting as her gloves lightly touched the mottled gray and blue cheek. Solemnly, Mordin stooped beside her, running an omni-scan over the remains.
"Human, male," he murmured. "Estimated age…nine Earth years. Ligature marks, collar scars, signs of malnutrition, physical abuse. Numerous injection sites, tumors…test subject, likely purchased from slavers for purpose."
"He's just a boy," Shepard whispered, touching his stiff dry hair. Then her face hardened and she looked at Mordin. "Why would they use a human test subject?"
"Humans good test subjects," Mordin told her. "Incredibly genetically diverse species. Won't do for final, more delicate tests but very useful-"
When he saw the look on her face he stopped, then cleared his throat. "Not that I would ever condone use. Despicable practice. Never test on species capable of calculus. Simple rule, never broke it."
Shepard got to her feet, her jaw set. "Apparently that's a rule they don't feel the need to follow. Let's get moving. There could be more 'test subjects' here, human or otherwise."
As they moved deeper into the hospital, Grunt could feel a good fight coming on…feel it in his bones, in his plates. Shepard was angry. Great fights happened when Shepard was angry.
They had not gone much further when they were confronted by a group of the Blood Pack, including one male that touted himself as the Clanspeaker, voice of Weyrloc Guld. When Shepard ordered him to tell Guld to release the salarian doctor and any other prisoners he might be holding, the prick started to wax on about how great Guld and Clan Weyrloc were, how they were going to cure the genophage and put the Blood Pack krogan at the top rung of galactic dominance.
When he boasted they would eat salarian eggs for breakfast, Mordin making a faintly strangled sound in response, Shepard shot him.
Grunt couldn't help his laugh, the rush in his body and blood. For him, that was nothing but greatness. A big sack of wind, boasting with words and threats. Shepard hadn't hesitated, hadn't wasted her breath with boastings. Shepard had no need to brag. Her bullet had taken the windbag in the eye, snuffed his life like a candle, and it was fantastic.
The battle was on a heartbeat later as the rest of their enemies lit into them and all too quickly were vanquished. He followed after Shepard and the salarian as they continued on, only hoping more would soon be forthcoming.
That was one lesson he had learned, however; follow Shepard long enough, and more was always forthcoming.
The tank imprints insisted humans were weak. Shepard isn't weak. She doesn't feel the need to brag to prove her strength…she just does it. She's just strong. Strange for such a soft looking creature, but she earns the respect of even a great Warlord like Wrex, silences krogan four times her size without hesitation. Perhaps she is not really human after all? Perhaps she is some new species that just looks like they do? Or was Okeer really just that wrong?
The clan leader finally showed himself, and Grunt grimaced when he saw him. He was krogan, he was big and scarred, but he was not impressive when compared to the ancient Warlords, or even to Wrex. His clan had fallen easily and Grunt was disgusted to find such a waste of flesh as a clan leader of any kind.
No wonder Okeer thought our people were dying, he thought with a huff, feeling only disgust as he soon looked down at the dead male's body.
The final echo of gunshots, the smell of heated thermal clips, was still in the air as Shepard lowered her rifle. Mordin looked at his omni-tool, then gestured. "Labs through here. Most likely location of Maelon."
As they entered Grunt flared his nostrils, a bit disappointed when all the blood he smelled was old, overshadowed by the scent of antiseptic and chemicals. The labs were large, dirty. Stains of both grease and other unidentifiable fluids marbled the floors, and the buzzing of flies was audible. Spotting a form covered on a table, Mordin headed that direction, Shepard and then Grunt following.
"Krogan, female, no ligature marks, no signs of restraint…volunteer," the salarian said sadly, then shook his head, accessing her records. "Sterile female, subjected herself to testing, wanted to help cure genophage. Pointless waste of life."
"She probably thought her life was already wasted," Shepard pointed out. "A sterile female krogan…sterile thanks to the plague dropped on her people. Thousands of krogan children are born dead every day, Mordin. Why does this one bother you?"
"Am not monster, Shepard," Mordin said, shocked. "Worked on genophage adaptation, not to take life…to give it! Saved lives of other species, saved lives of krogan. Thousands born each day to kill each other over resources, struggle and suffer and starve as galaxy is overrun. Only path to that end is pain, extinction."
"And this isn't suffering?"
"Needless suffering," Mordin murmured. "Needless pain, trying for dead future. Careless, wasted. Young mother could have been leader, contributor, ambassador. Instead gave herself for this, for madman like Guld. So pointless."
"The krogan deserve the chance to build their own future, like any other race. This desperation was brought out through interference in their natural way of being," Shepard retorted. "The genophage may serve a purpose in all your projections but its effects are catastrophic, Mordin. The krogan are cycling toward extinction, not balance."
She shook her head, then reached over and gently touched the salarian's arm. "I know you thought you were doing the right thing but the truth is, you cannot see all ends. The future cannot be predicted by simulations and projections and hypothesis. Maybe the genophage was the right choice…maybe it was the wrong one. But right or wrong this is a side-effect of what happened and it must be acknowledged."
Mordin said nothing, only regarded the dead female a moment longer, before turning. "Come. Must find Maelon."
"A tank-bred krogan?" Gatatog Uvenk glowered sullenly, nostrils flaring. "A fake? And you are seriously considering allowing him into your clan?"
"It is my clan, Uvenk," Wrex reminded him. "All krogan are welcome here who can prove themselves. The boy is not a fake, and Shepard vouches for him-"
"A human," Uvenk scowled. "You're taking a tank-bred fake because a human vouches for him? I went along with your ideas, Wrex…radical as they may be. I am here even though you break many traditions to get your way but this is simple lunacy! You allow a weak, soft human to-"
Wrex stepped forward and slammed his forehead against Uvenk's, making the other male stumble. "You can say many things, Uvenk," he snarled. "But do not say Shepard is weak. She is worth ten of you, human or not. Don't forget that."
"You know Shepard?" A young voice spoke up from nearby. Wrex glanced over at the dark adolescent krogan who had been lingering a few feet away, listening to the exchange.
"I do," Wrex told him. "You are…one that came with Dundrin Buhto, right?"
"I am Dundrin Thug," the boy replied.
"How do you know Shepard?"
"Don't," the boy grunted. "I've heard…stories."
Wrex huffed, pleased. "About the Citadel, no doubt."
Catching motion out of the corner of his eye he turned his head. Shepard, Grunt, and the salarian were crossing the courtyard toward him, looking a bit dustier but none-the-worse for wear.
"Stick around, kid," he said to Thug with a lopsided grin. "Here she comes now. You can meet her in person."