Thank you for the kind words from those of you who reviewed, as well as for the follows and alerts. I look forward to hearing from you. Now the plot is off the ground, so here we go!

Anthony's early forays into research did not return good results. He thought reaching out to a number of Shepard's former crew directly might be a good idea at first, but it seemed that they were still holding to their unresponsive ways. He only heard back from one person, and, unfortunately, that one reply was from the infamous Jack, who told him in no uncertain terms to have sex with his mother, accompanied with a hologram of a hand holding up a middle finger.

He would have to pursue some different avenues. Traditional means would not be effective. He would need some luck and some craftiness for this to work. He had an idea, and so he concocted a ruse to get the interview he needed.

He sent and received a message from his alma mater, one of the few Ivy League universities to survive the Reaper War mostly intact.

Dear Mr. Everest,

As an alumnus, your interest in our archives is welcome. We actually do have a copy of your undergraduate thesis stored away in the digital vault for the Firestone Memorial Library. However, if you need to access it, we ask that you travel personally to the library, as university rules and copyright issues prevent us from disseminated any academic work over the extranet. I know that this is not the answer you were looking for, but we welcome you to come visit us if you have the chance.

In addition, however, there will be an upcoming panel next month in New McCosh Hall on the subject of the Protheans and their religious culture. Several of the galaxy's foremost experts on the subject—including Dr. Liara T'Soni will be present. We can reserve a seat for you if you wish. Distinguished undergraduates such as yourself are always welcome.

Sincerely,

Martha Anderton

Student Affairs

Princeton University

On the contrary, Anthony mused to himself, that was exactly the answer he was looking for. He had no interest in his undergraduate thesis, though it did stoke a small measure of pride in him to know that it was still on record. Something of his had survived the war after all. But he was most interested in the presence of Dr. T'soni at the university. He would need to ambush her, but at least he had an in: he knew where she would be, and when. It was then up to his charisma to hoodwink her into an interview.

He reached out to the asari archeologist with the ruse. It took a while, but eventually he got a response, an email from a rather robotic sounding personal assistant. It read:

Mr. Everest,

Dr. T'Soni has just returned from a long research trip in the Hades Gamma and has been out of contact for several weeks. However, she will be on Earth at Princeton University this coming month, participating in a panel on Prothean religion and culture. She has indicated she may be able to speak with you about your dissertation thesis after the panel.

Have a pleasant day,

G.

Whoever G was, he had a computer's sense for grammar and diction. But Anthony was ecstatic, finally an opportunity! He let Walter know and they approved his travel from New Angeles to New Jersey so he could make good on the arrangement.

It was cold outside, snow drifting down and dusting the Gothic architecture which comprised the stunningly beautiful Princeton campus. A strange melding of old world sensibilities and towering, modern architecture, the university managed to combine the beauty of both ancient and contemporary aesthetics. The city, small as it was, managed to survive most of the ravages of the Reaper War. Princeton had to be partially rebuilt, but parts of the old university remained intact. Among the Ivy League universities, it was almost unique in this regard. Her august compatriot universities in Cambridge and New Haven had not been so lucky.

Anthony waited in a delightfully antique watering hole, one which simulated Prohibition era furniture and ambiance. In addition to coffee, it served liquor and quality mixed drinks from a bygone time. The panel would start in about a half hour, just enough time for Anthony to quench his thirst.

He nursed a tumbler of Lagavulin no. 16, straight. He disliked ice in his whiskey. At this hour of day, there were not many people in the bar, so he passed the time thinking quietly to himself, researching the Protheans with a slightly distracted curiosity. A holographic fire crackled near him, emanating synthetic warmth and flickering orange light. It cast intriguing shadows on the rich mahogany furniture. He began to fiddle with his omni-tool and lost track of time until suddenly he jerked his head up to the old clock on the wall and noticed that the panel was about to begin.

He killed the rest of his drink in one go and made a beeline for the exit. He regretted having to drink a more expensive whiskey so fast, but he had to get moving.

He clutched his pea coat and scarf close in an effort to keep warm, the winter day besieging the university with wind and snow. Nevertheless, the campus was beautiful, and he could not help but admire its grandeur as he strode through the quad towards the New McCosh Hall. As a student, he had never tired of the buildings and the architecture. It stimulated scholastic feelings in him even now.

Across the quad, the New McCosh Hall stood out somewhat garishly. The old hall had been a beautiful building, but it was one of the unfortunates to perish in the war fifteen years prior. While most of the damaged university buildings had been restored to their previous state and appearance, an influential architect was brought in to redesign the hall, and Anthony honestly found it a rather poor substitute. Instead of the grandiose Gothic architecture of the old building, the new one had a bizarre array of glass panels and jagged edges, complete with holographic displays of the old building's towers. The whole thing looked out of place. And, even worse, it had an unfortunate tendency to dump snow from its slippery panes onto pedestrians in the winter.

He ducked inside and heard that the panel was beginning, so quickly made his way to the main lecture hall, taking a seat towards the back.

The panel was fascinating, and Anthony felt his old love for academia ignited within his breast. He even caught himself leaning forward on the edge of his seat as he listened to Dr. T'Soni discuss her theories about Prothean religious history, given her experience with the warrior Javik.

It was not really a fair discussion, T'Soni dominated it because she had the experience which made every other Prothean expert jealous: she had known an actual Prothean, fought with him, and even wrote a book with him. However, because Javik had tragically ended his own life shortly after its publication, T'Soni was left as the galaxy's leading authority, and the closest thing left to an actual Prothean.

The other scholars present, a human, two other asari, and a krogan, were interesting but did not have the personal experience. Though the krogan—Professor Vandros—actually drew a lot of interest as well. Krogan academics were an exceptionally rare breed, and the fact that one was present on the panel confused and bewildered the uninitiated, even though he had previously been the field's leading expert before T'Soni's rather unfair usurpation.

The content of the panel had been on the religious response of the Protheans both to the discovery of other sentient life in the galaxy, as well as during their encounter with the Reapers.

Dr. T'Soni spoke after one question, "In my view, the Prothean discovery of other sentient life ended up posing no real threat to their religious lives. They had always assumed that they were the galaxy's apex species, and the discovery of less evolved life forms actually confirmed their suspicions."

The krogan spoke up, "Do you you think it made their religious impulse stronger? Once they realized they were the most advanced society in the galaxy?"

T'Soni replied, "I think it helped. Less is known of their religious beliefs when they were confined to their own planet. But they seemed to take on a notion of divine providence when they spread their wings and conquered other worlds."

Another asari spoke up, "You're saying that they became more religious because they were successful conquerors, so that their religions were influenced by their wars. On the contrary, I argue that their rather violent religions led them to colonize the galaxy more aggressively. Not the other way around."

Dr. T'Soni shook her head, said, "No, I don't think so. Even in our history, it is rare that religions directly inform warfare and conflict. Rather, they're typically used as justification for a war that's usually already underway. I think it was the same with the Protheans."

"What makes them different," the Professor Vandros inserted, "was that their religious impulse seemed to grow stronger after they discovered other species. Whereas in our cycle, most species experienced a weakening of the religious impulse."

The human jumped in, "I don't think it was a weakening in our cultures. I think it was a redirecting. The Protheans directed their passion towards divinely inspired conquest. We redirected our religious impulses from the higher to the lower, to distracting entertainment and pleasurable pastimes. Where they had a love affair with war, we have had one with comfort."

T'Soni again, "Be that as it may, what's interesting to me is that their religious impulse seemed to persist for some time into their war with the Reapers as well. That is unique, as far as I am aware."

"Perhaps it had to do with their conceptions of violence in religion?" asked one of the asari.

Vandros interrupted, "A hyper-religious society often interprets calamity as divine judgment. The Protheans probably interpreted the Reapers as a manifestation of this judgment. The rapidity of the conquest, its unexpected nature, and the utter invincibility of the Reapers, all led them to think that they had run afoul of the divine and brought vengeance on their own heads."

The conversation went on for some time, with every speaker's input fascinating. At length, the panel concluded, and the floor was opened up for questions. Anthony had one ready, and he made his way down the aisle to the front.

"Yes," said the moderator, "to the man on the right."

Anthony raised his hand, said, "Anthony Everest here, Princeton alumnus. Thank you to all of you for coming, this has been a fantastic panel, I've greatly enjoyed it." He looked at the moderator's face, who was silently urging him to actually ask a question. He obliged, "I was curious about the cyclical nature of the Protheans' religion. From my understanding, and from your book Dr. T'Soni, the Protheans believed in a cyclical religion, and even though they relished their position of dominance, they had a fatalistic view about the end of history. Does this cyclical mindset perhaps help explain the persistence of Prothean religion even into the war with the Reapers? In a way, it could almost seem to them like a fulfillment of prophecy."

Vandros spoke first, "That is an interesting proposition, and not one that I had considered. I am not aware of the religious beliefs towards the end of the war, though. Perhaps Dr. T'Soni could enlighten us?"

She obliged, "By the time Javik was born, religion was on the wane for the Protheans, mostly because so many of them had died that the succession of priests and religious leaders had been all but obliterated. But they did maintain a rough version of their earlier beliefs. I think there is some merit to your suggestion."

They discussed it for some time before moving on to another question. But Anthony was okay with that, he had asked what he needed and gotten her attention.

When the panel was dismissed, he went back to the front and approached Dr. T'Soni. A line of people was in front of him, but he bode his time. When it was his turn, he shook the asari's hand and spoke. "Thank you for coming to Princeton, and for talking on this panel. I greatly enjoyed it."

"You're welcome," she replied, "I found it a very enriching experience."

"I was wondering if you perhaps had some more thoughts on the question I asked?"

She began to answer before catching herself and said, "Ah, you're the one who emailed me earlier? Right? I found both your question and your dissertation topic interesting, and I can see now how they overlap. I have a little time to talk after this, would you give me a few minutes?"

He was in.

They went back to the watering hole where Anthony had waited earlier. Upon entering, Anthony found two comfortable chairs near the fake fire and offered to buy her something. "What's your drink?"

"I don't know human drinks well," she said coolly, "I'll let you decide."

Anthony went to the bar, waited, then asked the bartender, "Do you have any Laphroaig?"

"No. 18," he said, "don't tell anybody."

"I won't," Anthony smiled. "Two, please. One straight and one on the rocks." Silently, he reached down and activated an old recorder in his pocket. A clandestine piece of equipment, it was old, but he could hide it from Dr. T'Soni while talking, which he would not be able to do with his omni tool. The quality of the recording would be poorer, but he could get her to speak with a false sense of security. It may not have been legal in court, but journalists are not lawyers.

He took the tumblers back to his guest and said, "Thank you for meeting with me, Dr. T'Soni. I know you are busy, but I..."

She cut through his sentence and began herself, "It's all right. And please call me Liara. I hate getting that title thrown at me. I don't normally meet with people after these panels, but I saw your resume and was interested. You studied history at Yale?"

"That's right," he said. "I did my undergrad work at Princeton, but I went on to Yale for...graduate work. I," he stumbled slightly, "I...left a few years before the war."

"I had a friend who went there," said Liara, not picking up on his hesitation. "She was an asari, but she loved human culture. She did her doctoral studies at Yale in religious history." She hesitated, said, "It's a shame what happened to the university." But she went on with interest, "My friend was intrigued by the overlap between our siari beliefs and, I think it's called Hin...du? Something about how similar the views of transcendence are."

Anthony was caught a bit off guard, but managed to rally his thoughts. "You'll find a lot of that in human religions. Hindu philosophy and the Para Brahman even bears similarities to Christian conceptions of God as the Ground of All Being."

"I'm sorry, I've distracted you," Liara said with a slight laugh. She leaned back in her chair.

"No, that's all right," Anthony said, "I enjoy these topics. I studied human religions quite a bit, but I don't know much about others."

"Well," said Liara, "I certainly enjoy these topics as well. And it's nice to talk to a historian and not a member of the paparazzi. They always want to know about the war, never about my research. But I don't really do those interviews anymore. This is preferable."

Anthony had an opening, so he went for it. "What do you mean by not doing those interviews anymore?"

"Well," she said, "I don't know if you noticed. But those of us who knew the Commander stopped giving interviews a few years ago. We were just tired of it. I wanted to move on."

"I can see how you'd get tired of it. But it must be hard to move on. Did you find you really wanted to?" He was distracting her successfully. This was going better than he could have hoped.

"Oh, it's hard to explain," she said. "Somehow, the more I talked about Commander Shepard, the further I felt from her. In the years after the war I did interviews every day of the week and twice on Sunday, or at least it felt that way. Everyone wanted to know everything about her. But the more I talked about her life, the more I felt like I was removed from the real person. I fell into a pattern, telling the same stories, talking about the same events, repeating the same conversations. I honestly am not sure if my memories I have of Shepard now are really what happened, or if they're just the stories that I've had to rehearse for the news and for movies. I felt like she was slipping away."

Liara turned away and looked at the fire, casting an askance look at Anthony. "I feel a lot like I don't really know her anymore. It's a feeling that is...upsetting to me."

"Well," said Anthony, "I appreciate you telling me that. It must be hard, but we don't have to talk about her if you don't want to." He was taking a risk here, but he wanted her to feel more comfortable.

"No, it's all right. I actually like to talk about her privately. She was a hero, yes. But she was also my friend."

"What was it like to have Commander Shepard as a friend?" Anthony's strategy was working flawlessly.

"Everyone who knew her felt like she was their best friend. And I don't know whether that says more about us or her, but I think both. So much of the time, we seem to only relate to people for as much as we can get out of them. We might have some genuine friendships, but we are selfish people, and we look at things in terms of connections, benefits, entertainment, or whatever. Even subconsciously, we all do this. I do it."

Anthony nodded along.

"But Shepard wasn't like that. She really, truly cared about everyone around her. She had that rare kind of nobility where she put others interests ahead of her own without even a second thought. By nature she just wanted to help people."

"So she was always willing to go the extra mile?"

"I'm not familiar with this phrase. Is it a human idiom?"

"Sorry, yes. It comes from one our religious figures, probably the most famous one. He once said, 'If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles'."

Liara nodded her head, said, "Yes, that sums it up well. Everyone who knew Shepard forced her to go a mile with them, and she always, every time, went with them two. I never met a person more concerned with the well being of others."

"Did people take advantage of this trait?"

"Oh, I'm sure. I know people would sometimes ask her for favors because they knew she would do it for them. But I don't think anyone really exploited her. At least, not anyone that knew her. Everyone loved her too much to possibly hurt her that way."

"But at the end, when the Reapers attacked London..."

Liara grimaced and leaned forward, putting her hand to her forehead. "Oh, what am I saying? Of course we exploited her. She died to save the rest of us. If that's not going the extra mile, what is?"

Anthony managed to stutter out a reply, "I'm...I'm sure that she made the choice that she wanted."

"I wish I could believe that, but I don't know. She was so selfless, I feel almost like we made her sacrifice herself sometimes."

Anthony felt cold water pour down his spine. This was not really a casual conversation. Dr. T'Soni had some serious ghosts haunting her.

He began, "She sounds like a truly loving person. We have another saying. 'Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends'."

Liara tilted her head around and ruminated for a bit. "I don't suppose," she began, drawn out, "that this quote comes from the same source as the first one?"

"It does."

"He sounds like a great man."

"He had many followers."

She set down her tumbler. "What about you? Are you a religious man? Are you like the Protheans?"

Anthony exhaled through his nose, said, "Not really, no. I feel I'd like to be, but I never made the jump."

Liara nodded in agreement. "I feel the same way. I find myself skeptical of any religious claims. It seems...it seems like wish fulfillment. Especially in the aftermath of the war. I could maybe accept the idea that there is a God who created and sustains the universe, but I could not fathom how something like the Reapers and their cycle of destruction could ever be part of a divine plan. It's all too horrid."

"I am stumbled by the same issue."

"But then I find myself sympathetic," Liara continued. "Because as evil as the Reapers were, and as awful as their existence was, somehow the amount of good in the world makes me want to believe in something higher. Shepard made me want to believe. She made me feel this way, whenever I would talk to her."

"I read once that 'Bad is so bad, that we cannot but think good an accident; good is so good, that we feel certain that evil could be explained'. I think I understand what you mean."

"It's true. Shepard was so selfless and so dedicated to doing the right thing, that I feel like I could believe in something like that because of her. I do wish heaven to exist."

Anthony chuckled a bit, "I think we all want that."

"But not for myself," Liara corrected. "I want it for Shepard."

"She did die once before. She was killed after Sovereign's attack on the Citadel. Did she ever... did she ever say anything about that?"

Liara seemed to freeze into some kind of paralysis. She opened her mouth slightly but no words came. She held there for a while, trying to think. At length, she said, "No. She never did. And you know what's even stranger? None of us asked."

Anthony felt a verse come to his mouth again,

"'Where wert thou, brother, those four days?

There lives no record of reply,

Which telling what it is to die'."

"That is quite beautiful. A human poet?"

"Tennyson. He wrote it about Lazarus."

"I know something about Lazarus..." Liara said distantly. She then aimed back at Anthony. "You're just full of quotes, aren't you?"

"I often think I became a historian because I've never had an original thought."

Liara laughed, both in agreement and somewhat derisively. She then maneuvered the conversation back a bit further. "I don't know what I believe about it, but I do hope there is something out there. If anyone deserves eternal reward, it is Jana."

"I'm sorry, 'Jana'?"

"The Commander. Jana Shepard. Her name was Jana."

"Oh, right. Of course. Sorry, I always forget that. I only ever hear her called by her last name. Or 'Commander'."

Liara actually mustered a chuckle at this as well, said, "We used to joke that Commander was her first name. That it must be on her birth certificate, complete with the naval rank and everything."

Anthony offered a bit of a forced laugh and said, "That's funny." He nodded for a second and then asked, "Why do you think that is?"

"I..." began Liara with confidence that dissipated almost immediately. "...You know, I don't know. That's just who she was to us."

"To her crew? It makes sense if she was the Commander to her crew."

"I... I suppose so."

"Was she Jana to anyone in particular?"

"I don't actually remember anyone calling her that. Her mother, I suppose. But I don't know. To be honest, I'm not sure I ever even called her by her first name. Not until now."

"Who was she closest to? On the Normandy?"

Liara cocked her eyebrow and let her head fall back, thinking. "Probably Garrus," she said without thinking too deeply on the matter.

"Garrus Vakarian? The turian? Interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"I don't know. I guess I just assumed..."

"Don't let your imagination get the best of you," she added somewhat hastily.

Anthony was unaware of where this trepidation suddenly came from, but elected not to press on the matter, at least not now. He had to play his cards right or this could be the last interview he would get on the Commander.

"Moving on," he began, "I wanted to ask about..."

Liara was suddenly suspicious. "Moving on..." she muttered.

Anthony instinctively put his hand in his pocket and fingered the recorder to make sure it was on. It was a subtle maneuver, but Liara noticed it.

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "You're recording me, aren't you?" she asked.

Anthony was struck dumb. "No, I..."

"You're the same Anthony Everest who works for the New Memorial Times," she said. It was phrased like a question, but it was said like a statement.

Liara sighed, "All you damn reporters. You're always so devious and sinister. I should've checked my sources more closely. Somehow I didn't connect the dots. I assumed you were someone different from the hack at the Times."

Anthony flinched, then tried to defend himself, said, "Look, I'm sorry. I just wanted to get some information on the Commander for a piece I'm writing. That's all. It's nothing sinister."

"Don't get any funny ideas," she said to him. "About what I said about the Commander."

"I... I wasn't."

Liara was a bit unnerved, said, "It's none of your business, really." She seemed somewhat panicked. She looked around like she was plotting an escape.

"Please, Liara," said Anthony, "I just wanted to ask a few questions. Maybe if you could put me in contact with one of your colleagues I could also..."

She interrupted him, "Of course. Your motives are pure. I get it." She looked at him angrily, "But this interview is over."

"I'm sorry I tricked you, please, I just wanted to talk about her and I couldn't find another way to do it." He was pleading.

Liara was disgusted, but simply muttered flatly, "If you really want to talk to someone about the Commander, I'll set something up for you. But I'm done here."

"Oh," stuttered Anthony, "Uh, sure. Let me just..."

Liara rose to her feet and shouldered her bag. "Thank you for your conversation. I enjoyed it." Anthony honestly could not tell if she was being truthful or sarcastic. There was acid to her words, but she also seemed to have actually enjoyed it. He had no idea.

"I also enjoyed it," enjoined Anthony, adding hastily, "Can I ask you..." he began, but Liara was already bolting out of the den. "Thank you!" he called after her.

She sighed and hung her shoulders as she left the room. She was angry, but she had been defeated.

He sat down to collect his thoughts. It was a start at least. And there was a potential avenue to pursue. There was something about the relationship between Shepard and Garrus that made Liara sensitive. He would have to tread lightly.

She was not happy about him lying to her. Of course she wasn't. But that was a risk he had to take, and it had paid off spectacularly. He had caught her in a moment of weakness, and she alluded to something that she wanted to keep secret. He had enough now that she—and the rest of the crew—could not ignore. His next move would be his most important.

References:

"Go with them two miles..." - Matthew 5:41

"Greater love has no one than this..." - John 15:13

"Bad is so bad..." - The Man Who Was Thursday, GK Chesterton

"Where wert thou, brother?..." - In Memoriam, Alfred, Lord Tennyson