A/N: Regarding the last part of this chapter, I feel that this would be the perfect opportunity for me to thank Rae D. Magdon for providing an inspiration with her lovely stories. And for making Aria/Tevos pairing a canon for many of us. :)
Also, I need to apologize for the misleading author's note way back in chapter 46... or 47. I mentioned that a certain character would not be a part of this story. It would have been more accurate to say that she would never step onboard of the Normandy. But a certain reporter makes her appearance now... and I am sure she will become an instant hit with the readers. :)
Chapter 140 - Awkward Distractions
"I assume by now you have all read the reports of our successful operation in Leeds, delivering a crippling blow to the resistance," Admiral Nitesh Singh speaks proudly, addressing his fellow admirals over a vid conference. "And we have verified the legitimacy of one of our most important agents as a result. Furthermore... hmm, where is Admiral LeClerc, why has she not signed in yet?"
"Willoughby was making overtures with her, I fear that LeClerc has abandoned us to link up with her and Hackett," Admiral Chen remarks sourly. "I was afraid that the two women won't have the stomach for this kind of thing."
"Well, I don't exactly blame them," Admiral Trevor McIllis of the Sixth Fleet speaks up. "I'm having a hard time convincing the men under my command that we should be fighting our own people, while the cities lay in ruins, factories are no longer functional, and we are squabbling over the last bit of resources."
"At least I hope you still understand why we are doing this, Admiral McIllis," Singh says sternly.
"Of course I do. Though the justification... becomes less and less satisfying with every passing day," McIllis snaps unhappily.
"We can't reason with the resistance, we all know that," Mayorov argues. "They will squander all the precious supplies in a few months, without considering the long-term implications. Bleeding populist hearts, they just want to make sure the majority of the population supports them, but they don't have any clue as to what they are doing!"
"Hmm, maybe so," McIllis shrugs his shoulders. "I understand that Hackett is in talks with some of the resistance leaders, trying to parley for a ceasefire. He claims that the opposition is very reasonable and their arguments only logical."
"Well, if he can get them to lay down their weapons, we will all benefit from it," Singh grudgingly admits. "It's not that we are fighting by choice, Admiral McIllis, it is purely out of necessity."
"Singh, are there any news about the Council post?" Chen asks in his squeaky voice. "Perhaps if the Council finds your character to be lacking the necessary qualities, we could consider another candidate."
"Don't dream that they would react more favorably to any of you. We are all high in the ranks of the military and complete unknowns to them, I suppose it is only logical that they are hesitant, preferring to deal with someone they know, such as Hackett. Or Shepard," Singh shrugs, looking a bit irritated. "We need to put more pressure on the alien governments, intimidate them into accepting us, but we can't do that while we are still fighting the resistance and our power base is not strong enough! With that in mind... I would like to hear the individual reports regarding your territories."
"Shanghai and Tokyo are firmly back under the Alliance control," Chen reports. "Fighting continues to remain fierce in Beijing. The Blood Pack have decided to make Beijing their base of operations, and we have had some minor setbacks in smoking the vorcha packs out."
"We have reclaimed St. Petersburg and Kiev, but Moscow appears to be beyond recovery. Radiation levels will make the area inhabitable for many years to come," Mayorov delivers his latest update. "Our marine divisions are getting overstretched, however, there is simply too much territory to try to hold at once."
"Ignore the rural areas, concentrate on the key industrial centers, as I have told you," Singh says. "Seize all weapon's manufacturing facilities, we must starve the resistance of ammo supplies. If we can't finish this quickly and decisively, we will bleed them dry slowly."
"We managed to drive the resistance from a Sirta Foundations facility and warehouse near Montreal," McIllis adds. "Unfortunately, they had already moved most of the medical supplies, but we did recover some raw materials, as well as obtained capacity to produce more medi-gel ourselves."
"Good, good, everyone, let's keep up the excellent effort," Singh nods, looking pleased as he looks to be bringing the proceedings to a conclusion, but as soon as McIllis closes his connection, he turns to the other two, suddenly appearing very annoyed. "Damn it, now he's wavering too! We can't lose him! The Sixth Fleet would slip from under our control, and we'd lose the whole North American theater!"
"I hate not being able to discuss our motivations openly in these meetings," Mayorov complains. "Then again, I don't think that he would react well if he knew that we are actually sitting on massive stockpiles of basic supplies."
"No, there is a line that he will not cross," Singh nods. "However, perhaps it might be possible to discourage him from leaving our little circle. His daughter is somewhere on Earth, I hear that she is a doctor. We could use her as a leverage."
"That... or we could demonstrate what happens with those who dare to change their affiliations," Chen suggests. "LeClerc and Willoughby have spat in our faces with their decisions to pull out. Perhaps... if one of them would meet with an unfortunate accident..."
"LeClerc," Mayorov decides instantly.
"And that wouldn't be because of her turning down all your amorous advances, Alexei?" Chen's face twists into a wrinkled grin, earning him a string of expletives. "But I do approve of your choice, she has always been a stuck up, argumentative bitch."
"Very well, so it is decided," Singh nods. "Poor Sophie will suffer a regrettable and lethal accident... I will have one of my people take care of it. There is one final matter that we need to address. Shepard. What are we to do with her?"
"It is clear that she will not work with us, time to let go of that illusion," Chen shakes his head. "You are still pulling the strings in Geneva, aren't you, Nitesh?"
"Yes, the Alliance News Network is sympathetic to our cause. They will do what we ask," Singh nods. "What are you proposing?"
"The good Commander Shepard is doing a lot of harm to our plans with her passionate speeches," Chen's face twists into that wrinkly, disturbing grin again. "Perhaps we could try to erode the Commander's credibility."
"That could work," Mayorov adds. "There has to be someone out there holding a grudge against the Commander."
"I think you're onto something, here. I'll speak with my people in Geneva to see if we can arrange some... educational documentaries," Singh nods, smiling. "We will speak again in two days, comrades," he speaks, severing the connection and ending the vid conference, this time for real.
"Damn it, that was hell of a hard work," Shepard grunts, kicking off her boots in the small foyer and stepping inside the living room, the warmth and growing familiarity making it a strange but pleasant feeling of belonging, of being home. Damn, even this dump is growing on me, given enough time. Though I guess it's not really so bad, it's probably all down to Liara's presence anyway. "Are you sure that your doctor would approve of you exerting yourself so much?" she asks, turning towards Liara, the asari plopping down on the sofa and answering with a cute yawn.
"I didn't even realize I was this tired," Liara confesses. "But don't worry, physical exertions such as these won't harm the baby." They have spent the past three days in the quarian encampment, together with the geth organizing the first delivery of sensitive eezo containing components to the science teams working desperately to get the mass relays operational. The same turian carrier ships that have assisted with the Crucible construction are on hand again, providing Dr. Cole and her team comfortable on-site facilities for the assembly of the components and passing them onto the engineers for further use.
"That's good... just asking, because I'm completely worn out," Morgan says, smiling as she stretches her pleasantly aching body. "And even though I feel terribly out of the loop after this, I don't want to give in to the temptation of watching the news feeds now, or else we'll end up sitting on that sofa past midnight."
"Yes, you might be right about that, Morgan," Liara concedes. "I must confess... after being away for a few days, working hard as this, coming back here almost feels... nice."
"I was thinking the same just a moment ago-" Morgan chuckles, but the irritating beep of an omni-tool message interrupts her. "Hmm, Garrus has placed a vid call. Wonder what he wants at this hour," she muses, accepting the call and seeing the seemingly always severe face of her turian friend showing up on the screen. "Hey, Garrus, what's up?" she asks, sitting down on the sofa, Liara freeing some room for her so that she too can join in on the conversation.
"Shepard. Liara," he adds, noticing the asari's face poking into the view over Shepard's shoulder. "I'm sorry for disturbing you so late in the evening. Tali sent me a message when you left the quarian enclave, didn't want to bother you while you were working."
"Has something happened?" Shepard asks, tensing a little, immediately feeling Liara reacting to it, beginning to gently caress her back. "There's always something, isn't there?"
"A few things, Shepard," Garrus nods, uncomfortably. "None of them really good, I'm sorry to say."
"That's okay, Garrus. You don't really have the face for delivering good news anyway," Morgan manages a weak smile, trying to guess what might have possibly gone wrong now.
"Have you been watching the news lately?" Garrus asks.
"Not for the last three days, Garrus, we just got back as you know," Liara replies.
"You should consider switching on the Alliance News Network. There has been another murder."
"What now? Is Hackett... please tell me it's not him!" Morgan exclaims, her heart starting to skip.
"No, but I understand this Admiral Sophie LeClerc was a friend of Hackett's," Garrus explains. "She and her retinue were all captured and summarily executed following a visit to the newly reopened skycar factory in... what was the funny called place, oh yes, Detroit. Several bodies of dead Eclipse soldiers were found on the scene, conveniently implicating the mercenaries."
"Mercenaries, nothing, they wouldn't have done something as daring as this without a good reason," Shepard snarls. "It's payback for leaving Singh's supporter camp, that's what it is. Probably trying to intimidate anyone else who considers defecting. Gods... those assholes are getting desperate enough to resort to something this drastic, killing a fellow admiral!"
"Hopefully our mutual friends working with the resistance can stop the situation from escalating," Liara adds, but leaving it at that, not wishing to reveal Miranda's involvement to Garrus without the woman's permission.
"They are using this to raise a huge rallying cry and push for a strike against all detractors," Garrus says. "The fact that this Admiral Singh seems to have monopolized the voice of the Alliance is very unfortunate. Can't Hackett do anything about it?"
"Probably not, other than to set up his own news broadcasting network, but that would send a very strange signal, and even now he doesn't want the Alliance to appear fractured... even if it already is," Morgan nods knowingly. "I'll have to speak to him again and see if we need to change our tactics or something..."
"Sure you don't need extra security down there?" Garrus asks, sounding a little concerned.
"They wouldn't dare to try anything against us," Morgan says dismissively.
"I bet that's what LeClerc thought, too," the turian mutters unhappily.
"Kasumi did some fiddling with the surveillance and alarm settings during her last visit, so I think we should be alright," Liara explains, trying to calm their friend down. "But thank you for caring."
"Yeah... thanks for the bad news, Garrus," Shepard nods, about to close the comm link. "We really should be-"
"Wait, I was just getting started, Shepard," Garrus interrupts her. "Why did you think I have such a sour disposition? Because I had painfully twisted that stick up my ass?"
Shepard breaks out in guffawing laughter. "Oh... that's brilliant, I need to remember that one. Well... pile it on, you grim sadist."
"I saw an announcement about some upcoming broadcast on the Alliance News Network. It was called something 'The Real Truth Behind the Reaper War' or some such idiocy."
"Hmm..." Shepard winces a little. "Guessing from how they haven't asked me or Liara... have they asked you?" she looks back at Garrus, the turian shaking his head. "Yeah, the real truth isn't what they're after here."
"I pulled the list of participants, Shepard," Garrus says, looking angry. "Most are humans, obviously. Armchair generals and military 'experts' who were nowhere to be found during, you know, the actual war. A few asari, salarians, and turians as well... and I know both the turians. Irritating bastards, always opposed everything I did... definitely not my supporters, and by extension, not yours either."
"It's okay, I get the picture, Garrus," Shepard sighs.
"What is it, Morgan, what are they doing now?" Liara whispers worriedly.
"Smear campaign. I don't know who's the target yet, me or Hackett. But either way, it's not going to be pretty. Hell, we might need to relocate back to the Citadel if it is effective enough."
"But... but they cannot do this to you, I cannot believe it!" Liara is shaking, she is so terribly upset. "You... gave so much of yourself, you were ready to give your own life and you nearly did, and this is how they repay you? I... goddess, this is... unthinkable!"
"Let's hope that there are still many who feel the same way as you do, babe," Morgan says, comfortably wrapping her arm around Liara's waist. "Garrus, I don't suppose anyone from the Normandy, or from our circle of acquaintances is invited?" The shake of the turian's head is all the answer she needs. "Heh, I can already see the sequel... 'Commander Shepard: Deconstruction of a Myth'."
"Well, if your own people do not appreciate what you did for them, I am sure that the rest of the galaxy does, and if they ever dare to forget, I will remind them in the strongest possible terms!" Liara exclaims passionately.
"That's sweet, babe," Shepard grins, gently hugging Liara and holding her close. "I'm sure that the people who matter will never forget what we did, and I made those sacrifices for them, not some abstract crowd of ungrateful bastards."
"Had to deal with some of those myself, so it's not like turians are somehow more reasonable than humans," Garrus sighs, then straightening out as he appears to remember something. "Listen, Shepard... there was one last thing. Not sure if it's good or bad, but thought you should know anyway."
"What is it, Garrus?"
"Chloe told me that they have given Joker the all clear yesterday. But he's not been assigned back to the Normandy, since they are currently not planning to deploy the ship. So, he's been reassigned groundside. I understand he has been given quarters in Bradford, not far from where you are."
"Oh... well..." Shepard is not immediately certain what to reply. "We don't really head into the city much, just to pick up our weekly allotment of MRE's. I doubt we'll run into each other to create potentially awkward situations. And if he wants to talk, well, I'm sure he knows how to find me. I don't think he wants to, though, from how our last conversation ended."
"It's just not right that you two aren't talking anymore," Garrus shakes his head. "What happened on Rannoch and later with EDI wasn't your fault."
"I... would like to think that it wasn't, but..." Shepard begins, then stopping herself. "Look, it's something I'm trying not to think about too much, alright? Great, now I won't be able to sleep for sure."
"Eh... sorry, Shepard," Garrus' head slumps dejectedly. "My fault."
"No, don't worry, Garrus," Liara speaks, trying to sound upbeat. "I will ensure that she has a good night's rest, you can be sure of it."
"Heh... alright, Liara. For once I do not feel like saying 'too much information'," Garrus manages a less depressed expression. "Once again, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Goodnight, you two."
"See you, Garrus," Morgan nods, switching the omni-tool off and turning towards Liara, suddenly feeling utterly demoralized and tired. "Everything seems bleak and depressing again," she mutters.
"Come on, let's get you upstairs," Liara climbs out of the sofa, pulling Morgan's heavy feeling frame up with her. "What you need is a relaxing shower and afterwards... another reminder of what we're both fighting to secure..."
"Shit, they really rip you off for a decent beer here," Joker grumbles, sitting at the bar in the Black Swan pub, watching the bartender withdrawing a considerable amount of currency from his supply chit as a payment for the foam covered beverage. "Good thing I've got another one of these babies safely tucked away," he then chuckles, accepting the chit back from the bartender.
"Oy, you don't look like one of them big shots that sometimes hang around the place," the redhead behind the bar grumbles in a deep baritone. "Left your uniform with the rest of your laundry, eh, sonny?"
"Ha ha, very funny. I'll have you know, I'm the best pilot in the whole damn Alliance fleet," Joker says proudly, catching a stare of a beautiful dark haired woman on the opposite side of the bar. He quickly checks over his shoulder to make sure the woman is not staring at someone behind his back, finding nobody there. When he turns his head back around, he notes with surprise that the attractive lady is smiling at him. "Used to fly Shepard around during the big war, you know," he says, loud enough to make the woman at the bar overhear them.
"You don't say?" the bartender wonders, not sure whether to believe him or not. "She showed up here once with an asari in tow. Don't think she has time for folks like us, though, too busy with her alien friends and all."
"She hasn't been here since?" Joker asks, feeling his shoulders tense a little from the mention of Shepard's name.
"Nah, just that one time, probably decided the place wasn't to her liking," the bartender mutters. "Shame. She would have brought in crowds as a regular."
"I wouldn't be part of those crowds," Joker shrugs, taking several large mouthfuls of the drink, feeling the cold liquid slide pleasantly down his throat. "Damn good stuff, this. Wish I could afford more than this one measly mug."
"Well, take your time with it then, son, don't lap it up in one go," the bartender advises him, moving away to address the needs of his other customers, while Joker slips into thoughtful silence, watching the foam in the mug slowly subsiding as dark thoughts creep into his mind. Whatever dipshit decided to send me down to this damned hole and not back to the Normandy... probably Shepard, she wouldn't want me around anymore after that last talk... shit... maybe I shouldn't have said some of those things, but... if she had done things differently... damn, it could have all been so different! I wouldn't be this pathetic broken wreck stuck here, grounded, like after Alchera...
The cup empties rather swiftly despite his intentions to nurse it through the rest of the evening, not looking forward to returning to his cold, lonely apartment. They give me a vacation and send me to this fucking place, what a joke. Then again, I guess it's horrible everywhere. Think I heard someone doing a supply drop to Cairo and mentioning it was snowing in North Africa. What a goddamn fucking mess.
He is startled from his depressing contemplations when another mug of beer is placed in front of him. "What the hell? Told you I can't afford another one," he grumbles, staring at the bartender.
"It's been paid for," the man grunts and turns away, not interested in a lengthy debate, seeing another group of customers approaching.
"Paid for? By whom?" Joker calls out, but there is no answer.
"You looked like you could do with another drink, flyboy," a sultry female voice comes from behind him, and Joker swirls around to regard the gorgeous raven-haired temptress with those stunning green eyes that had been observing him from the opposite side of the bar.
"Appreciate it, miss," Joker nods, tugging on his baseball cap to straighten it. "But just who are you that you can afford to buy beer for guys you don't even know? I mean, don't you need to save your own supply chit not to starve?"
"I don't have to worry about that, flyboy," the woman replies mysteriously, sliding into an empty seat next to Joker and he feels a surge of heat rushing to his temples, partly from the drink, but mostly from the presence of this undeniably attractive and not particularly overdressed companion. "And I am someone who hopes to make your acquaintance, Flight-Lieutenant Moreau."
Joker almost spills his beer from surprise. "Wow, someone actually recognizes me? How?"
"Information is my trade, Mr. Moreau... is it alright if I call you Jeff?" she asks with a disarming smile, receiving an immediate nod. "My name is Diana. Diana Allers."
"Hey, Diana, pleased to meet you," Joker says, still remaining a little wary. "Are you an information broker or something?"
"Not... quite. I want to be honest with you, Jeff," Allers speaks, maintaining her most charming smile. "I'm with the Alliance News Network."
"Ah... figures," Joker grunts, turning away. "So you want something from me. Everyone wants something."
"That means you want something too, Jeff. Maybe we can help each other?" Diana asks.
"What I want..." he gives a hollow sounding laugh. "Nobody can give me that anymore."
"I can try..." Allers says alluringly, the perfectly manicured hand sliding across her bare knee towards the thigh, playing a little with the hem of her skirt, pulling it a little upwards and watching Joker's eyes following the movements of her hand as if entranced. "Jeff, I think I can make you forget whatever it is that you're mourning and trying to forget here... at least for a while..."
Fuck. Maybe it's what I need to stop thinking about her... I mean, why the heck not? Shepard stood in my way with EDI, but she won't be able to do anything about this... "And what is it that you want in return, Diana?" he asks.
"Not much," she replies. "I want to hear about your experiences while serving under Commander Shepard."
"Fuck, if you're looking for someone to sing her praises, I suggest you look elsewhere," Joker snarls.
"But I'm looking for quite the opposite. There already are way too many singing her praises, so much so that I am struggling to believe that this icon they are building could be real. I want someone to provide a more realistic view of Shepard... I mean, surely she must have made some mistakes along the way was well? Yet nobody speaks of those now. Do you think you could help with that, Jeff?"
"Oh boy, lady... you have no idea," Joker replies, then suddenly feeling uncertain, slight sense of wrongness washing over him. "Not sure it's something I should share with the entire galaxy, though."
"Jeff, you are stuck in a cold, lonely dump, forgotten by those you used to call your friends, now celebrated heroes of the galaxy, but they clearly don't have time for you. You can't even afford a decent beer," Allers tries to convince him. "You deserve more than this, and you know it. I can help you get it. Starting with... making you feel less lonely..." she gently takes his hand and places it on her knee, watching him freeze from the touch, wondering if she has gone too far.
"Damn it, Diana... you put up the most compelling arguments," he finally sighs, nodding in agreement. "Fine, I'll tell you what you want to know. Some of the things will blow your mind."
"That's wonderful," Diana grins, keeping his hand on her knee. "Perhaps you would like to finish that beer... after which we could retire somewhere more private..." The speed with which Joker quaffs his drink and then eagerly follows her out of the pub makes Diana Allers' lips form a victorious smile.
"Shepard! By the goddess, Shepard!" Liara's voice startles Morgan as she is slumped at the kitchen table, half-emptied whiskey glass in her hand. It is already late in morning, but it remains dark outside, sleet pouring down from the skies, as if tailored to her mood. "Weren't you expected to be in the asari enclave by now? Matriarch Lidanya must be waiting on you!"
"I sent her a message and we agreed to postpone the meeting until tomorrow," Morgan whispers, rubbing her aching head. "Please... babe, stop shouting... I feel... really tender right now."
"I was not shouting," Liara says sternly, but she does lower her voice. "And you are not tender, you are drunk. I know that the meeting was simply a routine update and ironing out logistics, but it was still more important than getting drunk, was it not? And what's this?" she asks, grabbing a datapad that has slipped down on the floor, Shepard making a quick lunge to pull it away from Liara, but the asari is nimble enough to avoid her attempt. "It's a list of names?" she asks, starting to read the contents of the datapad, her face falling when she realizes that it contains names of all their friends that have perished during the past few years. "Oh, Morgan... why?"
"I felt as if I was starting to forget," Morgan whispers. "Living here in this beautiful house with you, it... I don't know, sometimes I manage to forget everything we've done, the things we have gone through, and... it makes me feel as if I'm living a lie. I should not forget the weight of my decisions! Never!"
"I... don't know what to say. Sometimes this life on Earth feels very absurd to me as well," Liara confesses quietly. "But all I know is that you deserve to be happy. We have been over this, and yet you keep slipping back into... into this hole of self-pity. What can I do to make it better, Morgan, there must be something?" she looks devastated.
"Ah... shit, please, Liara, don't worry, I'll pull myself together, I promise," Morgan suddenly feels very sober from the very sight of her bondmate looking so forlorn and distraught. She picks up the half-empty bottle of whiskey and takes it back to the drink's cabinet, placing it back with the two not yet opened bottles of Lagavulin. "Damn it, I'll try to get a better handle on this, sweetheart, I'm making you worried and that's not good for you, or the baby," she whispers, having returned to the kitchen, pulling Liara closer.
"It's alright, Morgan," Liara replies, holding her tightly. "I saw what you were going through, remember? When I committed the greatest crime imaginable for an asari."
"Gods, are you still going on about that nonsense? I told you I am not holding it against you. You did it to save me, and I am thankful for it."
"Do you realize what you just said, Morgan?" Liara asks, pulling a little away, staring at her with a serene smile in those blue, earnest orbs.
"...err, what did I say?"
"If I am not allowed to punish myself for doing something horrible to save you... why should you subject yourself to endless torment for making some hard decisions to save the entire galaxy!"
"...well, when you put it like that..."
"Yes, I do put it like that, Morgan," Liara's voice is tender and chiding at the same time. "We will mourn and remember our friends as they deserve, but if I ever catch you drinking your sorrows away because you have succumbed to your foolish and unreasonable martyr complex, I am going to do what no Reaper did. I am going to completely kick your ass, Morgan Shepard!"
Shepard does not reply for a long time, staring at her bondmate with wide eyes and just when Liara is starting to become a little anxious, Morgan begins to laugh like a madwoman, Liara joining in, hesitant at first, but then as loudly as her bondmate, both of them shaking, tightly embraced, tears spilling onto their cheeks as they giggle like crazy.
"Oh god... I needed that so much..." Morgan breathes out as they finally part.
"Yes, it seems as if you did," Liara nods, looking happy from being able to help. "Oh, and I might have something else that will improve your mood," she adds, smiling at Morgan's inquisitive stare. "I received an OSD from Aria with a new recording that Tevos and the girls made. Since you have decided to stay home today, I think this might be a good opportunity to listen to it together and relax."
"Oh, that does sound great," Morgan nods. "How about we put it on upstairs in the bedroom? I'd like to stretch on the bed and be all properly relaxed as I'm listening."
"Sure, that's a good idea," Liara approves, and together they walk back upstairs, Shepard dropping on the bed and settling comfortably into a pile of pillows as her bondmate works to set up the sound system and activate the recording. "Hmm," she notes with curiosity. "This isn't just an audio recording, this is a longer vid. Just a moment... this ought to be interesting."
"Sounds excellent. I must confess, watching the subtle play of emotions on their faces as they play the musical pieces... it is something indescribable," Shepard says, remembering their visit to Aria's place on the Citadel.
"I agree," Liara nods. "Ah, there we go," she presses a few buttons on her omni-tool, and a slightly darkened image is displayed on the large screen that covers almost the entire wall of their bedroom. "Hmm... let me slightly adjust the sound and brightness..." she mutters, fiddling a little with the vid settings on her omni, then suddenly freezing as the sound that comes from the recording is absolutely not what she has been expecting, almost physically stunning the asari. "Err... what..."
"Is that..." Shepard blinks, having gone completely rigid on the bed as the very... interesting sounds, accompanied by even more fascinating images appear before her eyes. "Oh god... it is Aria and..."
"But... this is not... I expected music..."
"Well... they are kind of... making music..."
"Oh... goddess, I... we... should not be watching this..."
"...you're the one with... the omni activated..." Morgan manages, her mouth completely parched so much so she has difficulties speaking.
"...must... switch off..." Liara tries to stop the vid from playing, but her fingers clearly disobey her and all she manages to do is to set the omni to zap herself with a tiny electrical jolt, yelping as she staggers. "Can't... oh, goddess..." but despite all her protestations, Liara has not taken her eyes from the screen, appearing mesmerized from what she witnesses unfolding in the recording. "...do you think... Tevos knows... about this?"
"No... definitely not... or she wouldn't be making... all those noises..." Shepard also struggles to speak, her mind getting clouded by intense heat and she can barely restrain herself from arching her hips off the bed or sticking her hand between her burning thighs. "...so... intoxicating..." she breathes out.
"So... wrong..." Liara sobs, unable to stop her own hands from running all over her body as she miserably fails to avoid trembling from the intense arousal. "Should... not..."
"Oh, stop talking already, you babbling fool!" Shepard cries out in frustration, reaching out to pull Liara into the bed with her, the asari falling on top of her in a messed up tangle of bodies. "Now peel me out of my uniform, quickly," Morgan orders, watching her bondmate's eyes already glazed and darkening, fighting the desperate desire to meld. "And that's an order!"