Liara

She had to reread the message a dozen times before its contents even began to register. Now that it was finally being comprehended, Liara wanted to dismiss it as idle gossip, but the contacts feeding her this information did not waste time on such outlandish, unsubstantiated rumors. They checked their facts against multiple sources, especially on something as significant as this. It was not every day that the presumed dead Savior of the Citadel was seen walking about on Omega after all.

Liara forced herself to breath slowly. She performed the ritualistic calming technique her mother taught her so many years ago when her social anxiety nearly drove her from her lessons. There were likely to be cameras and audio pickups hidden in every possible nook and cranny of her office. Showing her emotions here would reveal a weakness she could not afford.

Inside, however, she felt herself losing control. Her heart danced with joy while her stomach dropped in fear. The warring emotions were tearing her in two. She did not know if the relaxation method would be enough to keep her calm any longer.

"Nyxeris," she said over the intercom, "clear the rest of my schedule, and forward any calls to my apartment. You may take the rest of the day off."

"Yes, ma'am. Is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine." She was fighting to keep her voice even. "A personal matter has come up that I must attend to."

Liara locked and shut down her console and gathered the few possessions she brought with her today. She left her office, acknowledging the younger asari receptionist with a nod before heading to her parked car. Time seemed to quicken as she was at her apartment without remembering how she arrived there.

She hurried into her luxurious abode, knowing it was one of the only places on Illium where she could feel somewhat safe. Liara had installed a scrambler that interfered with any transmissions not on a hard line and regularly tested those for tracers. The large windows offered a great view of the tall buildings in Nos Astra but were a structural weak point, one a sniper could take advantage of. She had them outfitted with strong kinetic barriers so she could enjoy the scenery while being protected.

Liara kept her datapad, leaving all of her other belongs by the door and made her way to the kitchen. She haphazardly threw it down on the counter before pulling a glass from the cupboard and a bottle of honey mead from the chiller. She poured, the bottle rattling against the glass as she attempted to keep her hand steady. Once it was full, she nearly dropped the bottle and leaned against the counter, eyeing the datapad.

It was here her calm façade finally fell. She fought the tears threatening to fall but could not help her shallow breathing or her racing heart. Troy, her Troy was alive. It was overwhelming.

Liara had forgotten what it felt like, to hope and dream for him to come back. She stopped counting the days since giving Cerberus his body a long time ago. The constant reminder of what she had lost was too painful for her. And she had seen his body. It had been mangled and charred beyond recognition. After not hearing anything about his condition for so long, Liara thought Cerberus must have given up. The thoughts of being with him again had all but evaporated. Now, those thoughts had become a possible reality.

But with those hopes and dreams came the fear. She had given him to Cerberus even though she knew how much he hated them. Liara had condemned the man to owing the group that killed Admiral Kahoku, the group that decimated his squad. She did not know if he cared enough for her to overlook that betrayal.

Liara shook her head, picking up her glass and draining it in one fluid motion. The sweet bite of the mead brought her back to the present. She forced herself to bury those emotions. They would not help her in her current mission. Tracking the Shadow Broker required all of her talents and focus. Thinking about Troy was a distraction, one she could not allow.

She filled her glass again, this time choosing to sip on the beverage instead of swallowing it all at once. Liara rubbed her eyes and was surprised to find damp runs that had flowed down her cheeks. Apparently, she was not as successful at stopping the tears as she had thought.

The datapad still sat on the counter next to her, staring at her accusingly. She took one more drink before swiping up the pad and heading to her bedroom. She removed a large, locked storage container that was hidden deep within her oversized closet (she did not need an apartment so luxurious, but she needed to project a certain social standing that this place provided).

She hit the container's code: 5923-2154-2826. The long number was easy for her to remember. She had studied them many times on Troy's dog tags as he slept. They were burned into her memory.

Inside was everything she had left of her time with Troy: the old pistol he had taught her to shoot with, the armor he had bought specifically for her on Noveria, his charred dog tags. She smiled in spite of herself. Most of the memories and gifts were utilitarian and militaristic in nature. It was the problem with falling for a marine in the middle of a mission.

There was only one item there that was personal. She grabbed it ritualistically, remembering when Troy gave it to her.

It was barely a month after the Battle of the Citadel, and the Normandy was at its first stop on the short victory tour Troy resented agreeing to. During their stay, he somehow discovered her birth date had been the previous week. He was extremely distraught that he had missed it. He explained to her that humans had ingrained traditions about the significant other's duties during "birthdays" as he called them. When Liara tried to tell him that the asari had no such customs, he responded, "Well, you're dating a human, so get used to it."

It was the first time Troy had verbally acknowledged their relationship, and Liara was too elated to refute his answer. Two days later, he presented her with a small box wrapped in what appeared to be napkins and fastened with utilitarian tape and a twine bow.

"Sorry for the poor wrapping job," he said after explaining the gift-giving custom. "I used what I could get my hands on."

She looked at him questioningly.

"Open it, Liara," Troy said with a large smile on his face.

She attempted to undo the tape as gently as possible but grew frustrated when the napkin started to shred. A brief glance at Shepard told her he was finding a great deal of amusement from her struggles.

Eventually, Liara gave up on carefully unwrapping the package and tore through the napkin. She opened the box to find more of the offending paper stuffed inside.

"This is what you wanted to give me?" she accused, holding the napkin-filled box so he could see inside. "A box full of cleaning cloth wrapped in cleaning cloth?"

His smile never faltered, infuriating her that much more. "Your present is in there. You just have to dig a little."

Liara reached in, choosing to hold her angry glare on Troy's smug look instead of turning to the box. When her fingers hit an item distinctly not napkin, her eyes widened and saw the small band she had removed from her present. She inspected it closer, recognizing the familiar weave pattern found in Troy's red bracelet. Hers was not a solid color, however. It was mostly a deep violet, but it also had a strand of yellow and another of light blue running through it.

She looked at Troy then. His smile was smaller now, more uncertain.

"Where… where did you get this?" Liara asked.

"I made it," he quickly replied. "Found the stuff easy enough. Small shop here had everything I needed." He shifted uneasily. "I remember you saying you liked the color purple. The yellow I added because you said it was your mother's favorite color."

When he did not continue, she said, "And the blue?"

"Heh. When I saw the blue sitting in the store, it reminded me of you, Cielo. I needed something to balance the yellow anyway, so I got it." There was more uneasy silence. "Do you like it?"

Liara inspected the band again. She could see Troy working diligently over it, searching for just the correct hue and tint of the colors, weaving the cords together with meticulous care, and packing and wrapping that dreadful container. It was not the first gift she had received, but none of the previous made her heart swell as this one did.

"Very much," Liara answered with a smile.

Troy exhaled loudly. "Good. Honestly, I had no idea what to get you. Do you want me to help you put it on?"

"Yes, please."

She was glad he offered. Liara had displayed her ignorance enough during the unwrapping. She did not want to look more foolish fumbling with its clasping mechanism.

He took her left hand in one of his and the bracelet in the other and gently tied the band around her wrist.

Once he was done, she inspected the gift's place on her arm. The violet seemed to lighten on her skin while the yellow popped. Happiness and peace flooded her as she looked at the band. Liara wondered how such a simple gesture could hold such strong sentiments.

"What is the proper response to receiving a 'birthday' gift?" she asked.

He smiled ruefully. She knew that smile.

"Most of the time, you just say 'Thank you.' But I put a lot of work into that. I won't settle for anything less than a kiss."

Liara closed the distance, wrapped her hands around his neck, and pulled him down. Their lips met, and the happiness and peace she felt when looking at the bracelet intensified.

When they finally broke apart, Liara looked up at him and said, "Thank you, Troy."

"You're welcome, Cielo."

She put the bracelet back into the small, napkin-filled box and placed it back in the safe. Liara remembered how Troy poked fun at her when he discovered she kept the box. But she wanted to remember her first "birthday" gift, container and all. It was also why she dared not wear the band. It was too precious to her to risk it catching on an errant hook and tearing.

Once it was safely stored away, Liara added the datapad with the information on Troy and locked the safe again. With the sound of the heavily reinforced case sealing closed, she stood and pushed all thoughts of him out of her mind.

She made her way back to the kitchen and her glass of mead when a call drew her to her office. It was not being forwarded from the office. It must be personal, so she answered the call.

An unknown drell's face popped on screen. "Dr. Liara T'Soni, I presume."

She did not like strange people calling her on private lines. "Who is this?" she demanded.

"My apologies. My name is Thane Krios. Irik gave me your contact information."

Liara knew Irik. He was a good information broker, and they shared information during mutually beneficial occasions. She had not had a problem with him in any of their dealings… yet.

"I am looking for information on a target," the drell continued. "Irik gave me what he had, but I wish to know more before I complete the assignment. He resentfully directed me to you."

She was surprised by his candor. It was obvious by the way he spoke that he was an assassin. Most would hide such information, especially when talking to possibly shifty information brokers.

"I do not know if I will be able to help, Mr. Krios. Irik is a very good information broker. Who is the target?"

"Nassana Dantius."

She knew the name well. When she heard the treacherous asari had moved to Illium, Liara had been tenacious in keeping tabs on her. And while Nassana had not done anything outright illegal, she skirted the border frequently.

Unfortunately, thoughts of Nassana also brought Troy. His harsh reprimand and threat was the only reason Liara kept such a close eye on the former diplomat. She had to force the memories out once again.

"You are in luck, Mr. Krios," she said, doing her best to give him an even smile. "I believe I will be able to help you."