The incoming message button was flashing by the time Shepard made her way down to the vidcomm room, and she was quick to acknowledge it, standing to attention as Hackett's holographic form solidified in the pit in front of her. Tucking his hands behind his back, Hackett gave a soft, approving grunt of greeting, giving Shepard only one quick glance over before getting immediately down to business. "I wasn't in favour of your diversion to Sanctuary, Commander," he informed her, his brow furrowing into a solemn line, though his tone remained conversational. "Too many unknowns. But, I was wrong. The Cerberus lab you raided hinted at something big, but we never expected this. All those refugees, all that… slaughter… just to study indoctrination."

"Sanctuary did need to be shut down, Sir," Shepard agreed, solemnly. "What they learned about the Reapers wasn't worth all those lives."

"It's useful intel, Commander," Hackett counteracted, thoughtfully. "But you're right, the cost was too high. Do we have a location on the Illusive Man?"

"Yes," Shepard reported, offering an assuring, resolute nod of confirmation. "We have former Cerberus operative Miranda Lawson on board, and she's guiding us to his base of operations."

"Former Cerberus operative?" Hackett asked, his greying brow furrowing deeper, wary. "Are you certain she can be trusted?"

"I'd trust Miranda with my life, Sir," Shepard informed him, frankly.

"Then I trust your judgement," Hackett conceded, nodding in return. "And that's excellent news, Commander. It gives us a fighting chance to take Cerberus out of this war."

"Agreed," Shepard returned, decisively. "We need to end Cerberus and focus on the Reapers."

"My thoughts exactly," Hackett agreed. "Hackett out."

The conversation was a short one, but effective nonetheless. With Hackett's approval under her belt, Shepard wasted no time in making her way back to the navigation deck to check on the status of the Normandy's course to the Cerberus base. They were still a ways off, having just barely started their excursion, but it gave her a much-needed boost of confidence to know that they were hot on the Illusive Man's trail, despite his best efforts to throw them off course and remain hidden from the Alliance's eyes. Taking her leave from the navigation deck, she took the elevator down to the main crew level, turning sharply as soon as the doors opened to make her way towards the Life Support room. The door of the room had been left unlocked, allowing her to pass through easily as soon as the weight sensor detected her approach, and she lingered in the doorway a moment, wary not to disrupt anything that might be going on inside. Knocking gently on a nearby cabinet, she waited for Thane to turn around, and when he did, she offered him an amicable, encouraging half-smile, letting her hand drop back to her side.

"Have a moment?" Shepard asked, raising her brows, hopefully. "If now's a bad time, I can always come back later—"

"Now is fine," Thane assured her, beckoning for her to come closer, before turning around in his seat again and indicating towards the seat across from him at the table. "Please, come sit down. It's been a while since we've had a chance to talk. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Settling herself down in the chair across from him, Shepard let out a soft sigh, stretching her legs out under the table as she folded her hands in front of her, attentive. "No reason in particular," she told him, offering a thin shrug of her shoulders. "Just thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."

"I see," Thane returned, offering a thoughtful nod. "I thought perhaps you were coming to check in on me. See how I was taking the news of Doctor T'Soni's discovery. Though, a casual conversation is as good a reason as any to stop by, as far as I'm concerned." Taking a deep breath, he folded his hands in front of him on the tabletop as well, mirroring her action, barely seeming to notice as her expression began to change from friendliness to confusion the longer the pause drew out following his statement about Liara and her mysterious, unnamed discovery. "Perhaps better than any other, though I'm not sure I have much new to talk about, I'm afraid," Thane went on, seemingly oblivious to her confusion. "I've been exchanging e-mails with Kolyat recently, but he's very vague on what he's been up to since last we spoke. Got that trait from me, I suppose. I can't really fault him for it, though it does make it difficult to check in on him. I've been trying to read between the lines, but he's been remarkably astute at leaving precious little there to read—"

"Hold on," Shepard spoke up, holding up a hand to stop him before he could continue on. "What was that about Liara discovering something?"

"Oh, I'm sorry – Doctor T'Soni found someone to do my operation," Thane answered, evenly, as if he were discussing an interesting streak of weather patterns. "I figured that was what you were here for. I'm taking it quite well, by the way. You can thank Doctor T'Soni for her vigilance. I thanked her once already, myself, but I think she would like to hear it again. I know she went to a lot of trouble to set up the operation for me, so she deserves as much appreciation as she can get."

"Yeah, no, yeah, of course," Shepard agreed, still dazed, blinking a few times in surprise. "But just, wha… wh—when did she tell you? Who did she get to do the operation?"

"You don't already know?" Thane asked, seeming just as surprised by this as she was. "I apologize, Shepard. I assumed Doctor T'Soni had told you already. I figured you would be one of the first people to know about it, all things considered."

"No, Liara never told me," Shepard answered, shaking her head. "I guess she figured she didn't want to disturb me, or…" She trailed off, considering, before shrugging her shoulders, unable to think of a suitable explanation. "I don't know why she wouldn't have told me," she admitted. "Maybe she just forgot."

"Perhaps," Thane agreed, thoughtfully, giving a slow bob of his head in return. "Regardless, she managed to do it… somehow. I'm not sure about the details. Apparently she had to pull a few strings as Shadow Broker to make it happen, but I'm all lined up for departure whenever we next get a chance to stop by the Citadel." Unfolding his hands, he opened them up towards her, taking in a deep, confident breath. "It's going to be expensive," he told her, warily. "But the Alliance said they would be willing to pay for a portion of it. The rest I'd have to work off, likely for a few years, but the way I see it, two or three years of hard labour is hardly worth squabbling over in exchange for fifteen to twenty more years of life." Folding his hands in front of him again, he paused, thoughtful, clearing his throat gently before adjusting himself more comfortably in his chair, regarding her solemn expression from across the table. "You seem concerned, Shepard," he told her, frankly, not bothering with pretence. "Is there something on your mind you'd like to talk about?"

At this, Shepard looked up at him, a bit surprised by the straightforward question, before quickly shaking her head and dropping her gaze to her hands again. "Not really," she told him, letting out a short, soft huff. "Just… thinking, is all. About your operation." Falling silent again, she frowned, considering, one thumb tapping anxiously against the knuckle of the opposite hand as she tried to think of the best way to word her next question. "What…" she started to ask, but quickly cut herself short again, biting anxiously at the inside of her lip. Her brow furrowed even deeper, her eyes searching a spot on the table between them, trying to piece together what she was trying to say. "How…" she finally started again, looking up at him, tentatively. "How… have… you always managed to keep such a positive outlook about things, even though you knew you were dying of Kepral's?"

Thane seemed surprised by the question, and for a moment he said nothing, merely sitting in rigid silence, his shoulders square, his hands folded dutifully in front of him on the table, the filmy membranes flickering over his sheer black eyes as he stared at her, contemplative. "I mean," Shepard added, quickly amending herself. "What I meant was – how do you always manage to stay so optimistic? I've never known you to complain or be morbid about your disease, even though I've done some research so I know how much pain you must be in. You had no idea until just recently that it was even possible for you to get this operation that could save your life, but even so, I never once heard you lamenting on your quality of life, or how much time you had left. How do you do it?"

Thane paused, his dark eyes thoughtful as they travelled slowly downward, finally coming to rest on his folded hands, the filmy membranes flashing over them a few times as he considered her question. "The world is full of incredible things, Shepard," he finally answered, his voice even, causing her to frown a bit, attentive. "You could live a thousand years and still never witness everything the universe has to offer. The asari are proof of that. Living with Kepral's… has never been easy. But I do know it's still preferable to not living at all." Turning his attention up towards her then, he watched her a moment, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side as the membranes flickered over his eyes again. "Just being alive to witness everything I've witnessed has been life enough for me," he told her, speaking genuinely. "I've done so many things in my lifetime, Shepard… I fell in love, got married, had a son… lost my wife… made a friend. I consider the time I had with you to be an important part of my life as well."

"We were pretty good together," Shepard admitted, offering him a thin, sad smile.

"More than good," Thane agreed. "But lamenting things lost only does their memory a disservice. I have… a vivid and detailed recall. You know this about me. I know where I've been. But dwelling on it is pointless. I've learned that it's better to look ahead than to focus on what's been left behind." Tapping his thumb distractedly against the knuckle of the opposite hand, he frowned faintly, contemplative, his black eyes growing distant for a moment before coming back into focus on Shepard again. "Having a short life is better than having no life at all," he told her, matter-of-factly. "At least, that's what my experience has been. I know I've had a good life. And look at salarians – they only live to be forty, forty-five at the most. What time the rest of us take for granted as our youth is what salarians have as the entirety of their lives."

"I… never really thought about it that way," Shepard admitted, feeling suddenly very guilty.

"When you have only a few months left to live, you tend to think about these things more than you otherwise might," Thane apprised her, offering a thin shrug of his shoulders. "But, even if Doctor T'Soni hadn't managed to find me a donor and a doctor for my Kepral's, I still would be satisfied with the life I've led thus far. And that's all that really matters." Taking in a deep, pensive breath then, he pressed his folded hands more firmly together, his posture seeming to square as he considered her. "If I spent all my time thinking about how I was going to die, I might not even have bothered living at all," he told her, speaking earnestly. "But I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad I didn't let the fact that I was in pain and knowing I had only a limited time left get in the way of me living what life I had. Otherwise I might have missed out on so many wonderful things."

"Like meeting me," Shepard joked, halfheartedly.

"Like that, yes," Thane agreed, offering a deep, soft chuckle in return.

Shepard nodded along with the joke, only half attentive, her thin smile wavering as her gaze dropped back to her hands again, falling once more into thoughtful, worried silence. "So…" she started to ask, her gaze flicking up towards him before returning to her hands again, self-conscious. "You honestly think… it's better to live a short life in pain, than not to live at all?"

Taking a deep breath in, Thane held it a moment, contemplative, before finally letting it out in a long, thin exhale. "That's just my take on the matter," he answered, fairly, taking his time with his words. "It might not be the same for everyone."

"I knew a batarian once… named Ghorek," Shepard told him, looking up at him again, her brow furrowing faintly as she thought back to that terrible moment. "He was in pain and on life support, and he begged me to take him off of it rather than make him continue to live in agony. Do you think… there's a point, where a short life in pain…might not be preferable to living?"

"I think… that that was his decision," Thane returned, decisively. "The other side of the argument. I think that it's important that everyone should be able to make that decision for themselves, but I also believe it's better to give them the chance to decide, rather than to decide for them."

"But…" Shepard wet her lips, taking a sharp, antsy breath in as she moved her chair a bit closer to the table, readjusting herself anxiously in her seat. "What about someone who is physically incapable of making that kind of decision for themselves?" she asked, speaking tentatively, now invested in the conversation, eager to know what he had to say. She had almost forgotten how good of a conversationalist Thane could be when it came to topics of ethics and morality. "Someone whose life or death decision has to depend on someone else? Someone in a coma, or… an unborn child? What course of action would you suggest they take?"

Thane paused, his membrane lids flickering a few times as he considered her question, his expression unmoving as he stared straight ahead at her, steadfast. "Are you pregnant, Shepard?" he finally asked, making no qualms about his question.

Shepard blanched, her nails digging into her skin as her folded hands suddenly clenched more tightly together. "No," she answered, quickly, shaking her head. "I'm just… I was just wondering what your feelings were on the matter. That was all."

"Your ankles are hurting you," Thane observed, astutely, sitting perfectly poised as he began his explanation. "They're likely swollen. You keep picking them up, crossing them, resting them against the legs of the chair because the metal is cool. They're never quite still." Shepard faltered, embarrassed by his observation, pulling her ankles away from the legs of her chair to cross them awkwardly under the table instead. "I can see the outline of your breasts through your jacket when I couldn't before," Thane continued, straightforwardly. "I only notice because you keep purposefully not touching them, probably because they're hurting you as well." At this, Shepard quickly lifted a hand to her hoodie, gripping it self-consciously, pulling the material a little closer together at the front. "When you lifted your arms earlier while you were talking, I could see that you're wearing a belt to keep your pants up," Thane went on, tilting his head a bit to one side. "But you haven't zipped the zipper, which could mean you simply forgot when you last went to the bathroom, but since you remembered enough to consciously put on the belt, I figure that's unlikely. You avoid eating certain foods that you used to eat, likely because they don't smell palatable to you anymore. You changed armour a few weeks back to something with more weight to it, with an artillery belt that specifically covers your waistline—"

"All right," Shepard pleaded, holding up a hand to stop him. "Stop. Please."

"It's entirely possible that I may simply be incorrect," Thane concluded, blinking a few times, astutely. "But those are my observations, regardless."

"I am, okay?" Shepard told him, sinking down lower towards the table, speaking just loudly enough for him to hear her. "I'm pregnant. I am. But… please don't tell anyone, Thane. I'm not ready for everyone to know just yet."

"It wasn't my intention to spread it around," Thane assured her, frankly, offering her a reassuring shrug. "However, I do appreciate you sharing your secret with me. It does clear up a few discrepancies I had about your behaviour the past few months."

Shepard frowned, opening her mouth, preparing to counter his statement, before quickly thinking better of it and closing her mouth again, tightly. "Right," she answered, pokerfaced. "That's good. I'm glad it cleared things up."

"Have you determined your child's gender yet?" Thane asked, blinking a few times, interested.

Shepard shook her head, wringing her hands distractedly in front of her as she itched to uncross her ankles under the table. "Not yet," she told him, giving a short, contemplative huff of breath. "Honestly, I don't know if I want to know the gender."

"Understandable," Thane acknowledged, giving a short bob of his head. "Kolyat was also left as a surprise until his birth. Irikah was convinced she was going to have a boy from the very beginning. I told her I would be happy with whatever we had, but honestly, I was hoping for a boy, too." Giving a soft, musing grunt, he smiled, lifting his folded hands from the table to rest them thoughtfully against his chest. "When Kolyat was born, a healthy baby boy, we offered up a prayer to Arashu, the drell goddess of motherhood and protection, thanking her for watching over our family," he continued, reflectively. "Irikah was not particularly religious – she was a scientist, so she believed primarily in logic over idealism – but she was only too happy to pray along with me."

"She sounds like a wonderful woman," Shepard told him, offering him a thin, supportive smile.

"She was," Thane agreed, returning his hands to the table in front of him. "And so are you, Shepard. A much better woman than you give yourself credit for. And whatever you decide to do concerning your child, I wholeheartedly believe it will be the right thing."

Shepard flinched at his unexpected vote of confidence, her gaze dropping quickly from his face to her folded hands, pressing the pads of her thumbs together so hard they began to turn sickly white. "No pressure or anything," she joked, weakly, offering him a thin, forced breath of a laugh. Then, clearing her throat, she wet her lips, forcing herself to look up at him again. "Thank you, Thane," she told him, more seriously. "You know I respect your opinion of me. That really… means a lot, coming from you."

"I didn't think you cared what anyone thought of you," Thane teased back, good-naturedly.

At this, Shepard smiled weakly, one corner of her mouth turning upward in a sincere dimple despite her discomposure. "Don't tell anyone," she joked back, softly. "Don't want to lose my reputation as stone-cold indifferent badass."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Thane conceded, offering a deep, throaty chuckle in return.

The talk with Thane had been more than satisfactory, leaving Shepard feeling not only enlightened, but somehow lighter on her feet, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders simply by speaking with her drell crewmate. The door of Liara's cabin slid open as Shepard approached, and Liara looked up quickly at the sound, seeming only momentarily interested to see Shepard standing in the entryway of her room before returning her attention back to her computer screens and starting to type something into the keypad. "Hello, Shepard," she greeted her, casually, reaching up to adjust one of the screens on her panoramic display. "Nice of you to check in on me."

"Thought you might need some agreeable company," Shepard returned, jokingly, glancing over her shoulder towards Glyph, who hovered helpfully at waist level, waiting for his next command. "You spend all your time surrounded by computers, one of these days you're gonna turn into one."

"That's funny," Liara told her, noncommittal. "How is Miranda, by the way? Speaking of checking up on people."

"She'll make a recovery," Shepard answered, propping her hands distractedly on her hips as she peered over Liara's shoulder, trying to make out what she was typing. Seeing this, Liara quickly waved a hand in her face, shooing her away from the computer screens, and Shepard frowned, taking a few steps back again, thwarted but not entirely surprised. "Oriana's doing okay, too," she added, taking her hands from her hips to fold her arms over her chest instead. "Keeping busy. And Matilda seems to be adjusting well. She's got those Lawson genes, I guess… gotta make for a pretty smart baby."

"I suppose," Liara returned, barely bothering to look up from her typing as she spoke. "I'm not entirely surprised they're doing well. Miranda always struck me as a driven woman, so it stands to reason that her sisters would be similarly resilient." Turning her attention towards Shepard then, she took in a deep breath, raising her painted brows. "Either way, I'm glad she made it," she added, matter-of-factly. "Was there something you needed, Shepard?"

"Yes," Shepard answered, her voice determined despite the weakened feeling in her knees as she prepared to make her request. "I want you to do an ultrasound for me."

Liara faltered, blinking a few times, surprised, her gloved hands hovering over her keypad, her work forgotten. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she finally asked, speaking carefully, as if she half expected Shepard to interrupt her at any moment to tell her she was joking. "I thought I heard you say you wanted me to do an ultrasound for you."

"I did say that," Shepard confirmed, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie as she tapped the heel of her boot distractedly against the metal-plated floor. "Chakwas isn't in there right now, so now's our only chance to get it done. You think you can do it for me, Liara?"

"Shepard…" Leaning one hand against her console keyboard, Liara turned to face her, letting out a hefty, put-upon sigh as she turned her malt-blue gaze up towards her, exasperated. "The 'Doctor' in front of my name is not an interchangeable catch-all prerogative to practice whatever type of research I deem fitting on any particular day," she explained, bluntly. "I study archaeology and history, not medicine and prenatal care. Besides, I don't know that I'd have any idea how to do a sonogram, even if I wanted to."

"The Normandy's medbay has the tools," Shepard offered, jerking her thumb helpfully over her shoulder in the general direction of the medbay. "Mordin's used the 4D-imager on me before – for different reasons, but still. From what I've seen, everything seems to be more or less button-press tech. Relatively easy to figure out… especially for someone of your high intelligence."

At this unexpected compliment, Liara's plum lips pursed together in a tight, embarrassed line, a faint purple blush rising to her cheeks as she quickly looked away again, back towards her bevy of computer screens. "Flatterer," she said, her voice just loud enough for Shepard to hear her. Then, looking back up towards Shepard again, she took in a short, sharp breath, holding it, pensively, before finally letting it out in a soft, huffy exhale. "Why do you want me to do it for you, anyway?" she asked, frowning. "I'm sure Doctor Chakwas would do a much better job of it. She actually knows what she's doing, after all."

"Liara, you know I can't go to Chakwas about this," Shepard sighed, exasperated. "She'll forward my information directly to Admiral Hackett and I won't be allowed out in the field anymore. I need you to do it so that doesn't happen."

"Maybe it would be for the best if you didn't go out in the field anymore," Liara answered, frankly, standing a bit straighter at her desk. "You're four—almost four and a half months pregnant, Shepard. Do you have any idea what that means? It means you're halfway due."

"Listen," Shepard told her, suddenly serious, pulling a hand from her pocket to point it towards the scientist, accusatory. "I didn't want to do this, but you owe me, Liara. Why didn't you tell me you found someone to do Thane's operation? Don't you think that's something I'm entitled to know?" Folding her arms across her chest, she tucked her hands under her armpits, scoffing, nonplussed. "What were you going to do?" she asked. "Were you just going to let me go on thinking my friend was going to die a slow and painful death, and there was nothing we could do about it?"

"Thane is my friend, too, Shepard," Liara reminded her, frustratedly. "But yes, you're right, I did get someone. Someone who isn't Maelon. This doctor seems like a good person, altogether, and all his credentials checked out. He works at a prestigious university, or he did, before the Reapers started attacking." She paused, worrying contemplatively at her lower lip, her brow furrowing a bit deeper as she gave this some thought. "I'm not sure what became of the university after the more widespread attacks started," she admitted, resting a thoughtful hand against her hip. "Either way, the understanding was that his first priority would go to that – his university work – but that he has his own research lab where he practices experimental medicine outside of his university studies as well. He assured me he would be able to do the operation there with little trouble, if I could locate a donor. I didn't want to tell you until I had located a definitive donor, but…" She stopped again, trailing off, before finally shrugging, exasperated. "I guess there's no use hiding secrets from you," she told her, sighing, regretfully. "You've got that particular feat down to an artform."

"So you found a doctor, but not a donor?" Shepard asked, warily.

"Well, yes and no," Liara answered, truthfully. "I found a doctor, and he said he would do everything in his power to help me to find a donor. He said that sometimes when people die, they donate their bodies to universities like his for use in scientific research, and if he can get the university board to approve his request, he might be able to get the lungs from a healthy drell subject… if they have one available." Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention away from her panoramic setup, folding her arms across her chest as she let out a tired sigh, her brow furrowing faintly, serious. "If not, he says he might be able to put out a request to hospitals and other universities with similar practices, and see if one of them might be able to ship a pair of healthy drell lungs over in frozen storage," she added. "It won't be easy, of course, and he doesn't know if there's a way to ensure the organ will arrive in fresh enough condition to be useable for a transplant, even if he does find one… but it's the best lead I've got right now. That's really all there is to it, Shepard. I wasn't trying to deceive you. I just didn't want to pretend give you news when I've only got… half-news, to give."

"I appreciate your honestly, Liara," Shepard told her, nodding in understanding. "But I still want you to do the sonogram for me."

"Shepard," Liara huffed, exasperated, throwing out her hands at her sides. "I'm not doing your sonogram! It's unethical, for one, and two, if I do something wrong, someone could get seriously hurt." Bringing a hand up to her head, she massaged her forehead, frustrated. "I just can't take that risk, Shepard," she told her, frankly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I just can't."

Shepard frowned, thwarted, unsure what else there was to say on the matter. Then, thinking on her feet, she shrugged, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie as she began to turn away from Liara again, slowly starting to make her way towards the door of the cabin. "That's okay," she sighed, sadly, laying it on as thick as possible. "I guess I should have known you wouldn't want to do my sonogram. You're just not a risktaker, Liara. Guess I'll just have to ask Miranda to do it for me instead."

"Miranda?" Liara asked, looking up from her work again, bristling instantly. "Miranda's not a doctor of any kind, Shepard. She won't have any idea how to do a sonogram, either."

"I know," Shepard answered, holding out her hands, defeated. "But if you won't do it, and Doctor Chakwas can't do it, who else am I supposed to ask? You know, I bet I could ask EDI to do it. She'd probably be willing to help me out." Sighing again, she made a face, twisting her mouth to one side and raising her brows as her hands returned forlornly to the pockets of her hoodie. "Would have been nice if you'd been the first one to actually see my baby," she added, dejectedly, making sure Liara heard every word. "But you know, I really just can't ask you to take that kind of risk…"

Liara pursed her lips, her cheeks puffing out ever so slightly at this implication, her entire freckled face flushing faintly purple, looking as though she were about to explode. Then, gritting her teeth, she gave a sharp huff of breath, letting out a short, soft growl before turning away from her computer setup and striding forward towards Shepard, taking hold of her elbow and starting to lead her out the door of her cabin and in the direction of the Normandy's medbay. "You're insufferable," Liara muttered, checking warily over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching them go inside. "I hope you know that, Shepard."

"You love it," Shepard joked back, smirking, before watching as the door of the medbay closed behind them, sealing them surreptitiously inside. Liara quickly moved to the open windows, pressing the buttons beside each one to make the metal shades slide down over them, hiding the interior of the medbay from the prying eyes of the mess hall. Then, turning her attention towards Shepard again, she huffed again, anxiously, before offering a quick, indicative hand gesture in Shepard's direction.

"Take your jacket off," Liara instructed her. "We need to do this quickly, before Doctor Chakwas comes back." Shepard complied immediately, unzipping her hoodie and tossing it aside on Chakwas' computer chair before moving to the examination table and pushing herself up onto it. She watched as Liara flitted around the medbay like a frantic flying insect, pulling the needed supplies from shelves and piling them up on the examination table beside Shepard. "Where's the 4D-imager?" Liara asked, fidgeting with her hands, out of breath. "The simple one you said you had." Shepard pointed quickly to a cabinet at the far end of the medbay, and Liara was hasty to follow her lead, making her way over to the cabinet and standing on her toes to retrieve what looked to be a datapad-sized tablet from the top shelf, followed by some sort of four-legged stand. Returning to where Shepard still sat waiting, Liara waved her hand again, indicating for Shepard to lie flat on her back, and when she did, Liara pushed her shirt up to her ribcage, settling the stand into place over her stomach. Shepard felt a tingling sensation as the four feet-like sensors began to take a reading, watching with interest from her unusual vantage point as Liara clicked the imager into place on the level part of the reader, syncing the two, tapping the reader screen as she waited for the parts to recognize one another.

Slowly, a picture began to appear on the imager, growing more definitive as the readers continued emitting more waves, getting a clearer picture of the form inside Shepard's body, and Liara gave a soft gasp of delight as the image slowly began to sharpen into recognisability. "By the goddess," she breathed, beaming as she pressed an enchanted hand to her chest. "What a beautiful little creature." Then, looking up at Shepard again, she raised her painted brows, a small, puckish smile beginning to creep across her joyful features. "Do you want to know the gender?" she asked, watching her face, hopefully.

Shepard hesitated at the unexpected question, turning her attention up towards the ceiling, her thumbs fidgeting against the edge of her undershirt as she debated whether learning the baby's gender would change things too drastically for her comfort. On the one hand, she desperately wanted to know if her preemptive predictions of having a girl had been correct, but on the other, the idea of learning that the lifeform inside her had a gender, an identity, was more terrifying than she cared to admit, even to herself. Moving her hands gingerly across the unfamiliarly distended surface of her stomach, she frowned, silently weighing her options. "Yes," she finally answered, before her self-doubt could stop her again. Liara nodded, turning her attention back to the datatool that sat perched on the curve of Shepard's stomach and inputting a short command into the tool. She watched as the imager emitted a soft beep, the ghostly picture on the screen sharpening, little by little, the readers pulsing a bit faster as they moved direction, searching for the baby's pelvic bone. Having found what she was looking for, Liara quickly pulled up her omni-tool, scanning the data from the 4D-imager and pulling it up on her omni-tool screen instead to more easily show it to Shepard.

"Look at that," Liara told her, moving closer to her head, her purple lips curving into a soft smile as she indicated towards the screen. "Isn't that wonderful, Shepard? It's a lovely little girl, just like you thought it would be."

"A girl?" Shepard asked, craning her neck to get a better look at the screen. "Are you sure it's a girl, Liara?"

"Pretty sure," Liara answered, moving her omni-tool even closer so Shepard could more easily see. The ultrasound was difficult to figure out, but she could just make out the definitive outline of a tiny form curled up comfortably in the foetal position, its miniscule hands balled into loose fists, its little toes curled up tightly, making it impossible to figure out how many fingers or toes the baby had. From what Shepard could tell of the baby's physiology, it appeared to be almost human, but she figured it still had four or five more months of growing to do before she could say definitively which parent it more closely resembled. Pointing to the screen then, Liara drew Shepard's attention to a spot on the ultrasound near the baby's pelvic region. "Now, I'm no expert," she told her, teasingly. "But I'm pretty sure this is usually where you'd look to check for a human baby's gender."

"You're a jerk," Shepard told her, causing Liara to laugh in response, only to quickly hush herself again, not wanting to get them caught. Selecting the portion of the image, Liara expanded it on the screen, blowing it up so Shepard could more easily see it.

"There doesn't seem to be any obvious appearance of human male genetalia," Liara told her, drawing a small circle around the area with her finger. "But to be fair, you're only about four months in, so it's possible that not all the signs have developed yet. I'm pretty sure it means your baby is going to be a girl, though." Disabling the display on her omni-tool, Liara allowed the ghostly image to flicker out before unclenching her hand and allowing the glowing arm-brace structure to fade out as well. "A little Commander Shepard," she mused, reaching forward to move the imager and reader off of Shepard's still-exposed stomach. "If she's anything like you, the Alliance is going to have their hands full when she gets older."

"Probably," Shepard answered, weakly, trying her best to return the good-natured humour, but to little avail. "Depending on what their policy is on cross-species applicants." Sitting up on the examination table, she slowly swung her legs over the side, allowing her feet to dangle towards the floor, her gaze resting, pensive, on her bony knees. The idea of having a little girl turned over and over in her mind; despite having called the baby a 'she' up to that point, herself, something about being told definitively that she was having a baby girl felt strangely uncomfortable, and she almost found herself wishing Liara had not told her, instead allowing the baby's gender to remain a secret up until the very last. Something about knowing she was carrying a little girl inside of her made her sick with worry, knowing that what had until then been simply an idea was now a real, quantifiable being, a person, a child with a body and a gender – something to protect, rather than just something to ponder.

Just then, the sound of the medbay doors sliding open caught Shepard's attention, and she panicked, dropping to her feet from the table and scrambling forward to snatch up her hoodie from where she had tossed it aside, pulling it haphazardly on and zipping it up quickly. Chakwas seemed surprised as she entered the medbay, her plucked brows rising towards her hairline as she glanced between her two unexpected, guilty-looking visitors. Turning her attention to Shepard first, she looked her up and down, noting the frazzled appearance and lopsided jacket, before returning her gaze to Liara again, her expression much more knowing. Then, shaking her head, she moved over to her desk chair, lowering herself down into it and clicking her tongue as she started to type something into her computer.

"There are much better places for that than the medbay," she told the two of them, seeming almost amused despite her scolding.

The nerves in Shepard's stomach had still not entirely settled after nearly being caught by Chakwas in the medbay, and as she made her way down to the engineering deck of the Normandy, she rested her head against the back wall of the elevator, taking deep, settling breaths as she waited for it to make its smooth descent. The doors slid open with a quiet hiss as she reached the engineering floor, and, after a moment, she pushed herself easily away from the wall of the elevator, tucking her hands into her hoodie pockets as she started down the hallway towards the room at the very end. Despite his apparent desire not to be disturbed, Javik had a habit of leaving his door unlocked, and as the doors slid open to allow her inside, she could feel the significant change in humidity between the outside hallway and the misty interior of his quarters. A soft fog curled around her knees as she made her way inside the room, letting the doors slide shut again behind her again before turning towards the washbasin-desk setup where Javik stood with his back to her, ignoring her presence, as if hoping that not acknowledging her might make her go away.

Moving up to Javik's panoramic holoscreen display, Shepard paused, observing the screens, before allowing a small, knowing smile to creep at the corners of her mouth as she recognized the projected form of the Normandy. The screen on the right showed a front, side, and back view of the ship, with small notes in the corner of the screen on the ship's model, upgrade notes, and schematics, while the two screens to the left of it showed a map of all the different floors and rooms of the ship with small personal notes added in tiny, barely legible text boxes to each one. Glancing up towards the top, she spotted her personal cabin on the map layout, but could not make out the notes attached to it before turning her attention back to Javik again. "Looks familiar," she commented, giving a quick jerk of her head in the direction of the screens.

Javik snorted in response, not even bothering to look up at her as he gave a short nod. "I have been studying this ship," he returned, straightforwardly. "Its crew. There was a Normandy before this one…" He paused here, thoughtful, before finally turning to look up at her, his brow furrowed faintly, interested. "You died in an attack," he told her, more a statement than a question.

"Something like that," Shepard agreed, dismissive.

"But then you were resurrected," Javik pressed, intent. "To fight the Reapers."

Shepard hesitated, considering this assessment, before finally turning to look at Javik and offering him a thin, forced smile. "Maybe you and I have a thing in common," she told him, amicably.

"But you have something else," Javik told her, shifting his body to offer her his full, determined attention. "The reasons you fight are still alive. The friendships of the people around you. And… more." He trailed off, cryptic, allowing his statement to settle. Shepard frowned, fully aware of what he was referring to, and turned her attention away from him again, looking back up towards the images of the Normandy on the holoscreens.

"Without those friendships, all I have in my life is death," she informed him, frankly. "And that's just… not enough."

"Yes," Javik agreed, turning his penetrating gaze away from her for what felt like the first time in ages.

"What about you?" Shepard asked, turning to face him, quickly shifting the focus onto him instead. "I respect your reasons for being here, but I get the feeling there's something more, Javik."

Javik's lips parted, showing his filed yellow teeth, preparing to say something in response, but then, a moment later, he closed his mouth again, reconsidering, allowing a long, thoughtful quiet to settle on the room instead. He paused, contemplative, staring ahead at the far wall of the room, before his tapered brow drew into a hard, pensive frown and he took a thin, deep breath inward. "I once commanded a ship like this one," he finally answered, his voice low, barely loud enough for her to hear him. "A loyal crew, with many friends. It was captured… only I escaped."

"What happened to them?" Shepard asked, her brow furrowing, attentive.

"Indoctrinated," Javik spat, turning to look her way again, the word sour and painful on his tongue. "The Reapers set them against me. Year after year, battle after battle… I was hunted by my own people. Every encounter… a reminder of my failure as a soldier."

"I'm… sorry," Shepard told him, quietly, taking a reassuring step forward towards him. "I had no idea—"

"Until the battle of the Cronian Nebula," Javik continued, barely letting her finish, his eyes growing distant again as he straightened his posture, staring intently at the back wall of the room. "I had only my knife left. I cornered my men… and slit their throats, one by one. I watched them bleed to death to be certain."

Shepard hesitated, feeling suddenly very out of place, unsure what there was to say in response to this. "That…" she started, choosing her words carefully. "Must have been…"

"It was the day I understood," Javik answered, cutting her off, stonily. "War is atrocity committed in the name of survival. It is a lesson I wish I had never learned." Going quiet again, he dropped his gaze, staring down towards the lightly tinkling basin and watching as the surface of the water rippled gently with the flow of the filtration system. Another long moment of silence fell on the room between them, the faint hissing of the humidifiers and soft beeping of the holoscreen the only sounds breaking the impregnable quietude, until, finally, Javik lifted his head again, staring intently at the back wall of the room, before taking a low, deep breath inward. "You were incorrect in your assumption from earlier, Commander," he told Shepard, speaking evenly, just loud enough for her to hear him.

Shepard faltered, taken aback by this unusual statement, blinking a few times in surprise. "What did you say?" she finally asked, still not quite sure she had heard him correctly.

"I said you were incorrect in your assumption about me," Javik repeated, louder this time, seeming completely unfazed at having to repeat himself. "I do give a damn about you. And I have concern for your wellbeing beyond merely a professional level." Turning to face her then, he regarded her with a stern expression, leaning one hand absentmindedly against the edge of the washbasin as he stared at her, considering her, intent. "You are a good commander, Commander," he informed her, matter-of-factly. "Even I cannot deny that. While I may not agree with every decision you make, I trust your judgement implicitly as a warrior, and as a leader." As Javik spoke, Shepard could see the hand resting against the edge of the washbasin begin to slowly curl into a loose fist, as if he were trying hard to hold back all emotionality. "Do not think me heartless," he told her, raising his chin, proudly. "I understand better than most the desire to keep alive that which is important to you, even if it means endangering your own wellbeing. If I could have spared my men, I would, even after their indoctrination. I tried, time and again. It was only at the very end that I conceded they could not be saved."

His hard gaze faltering, he frowned again, his lips drawing into a hard, thin line as his eyes slowly drifted downward from her face towards the floor, the hand resting against the washbasin clenching into a tight, resentful fist. "It was not an easy decision," he added, quieter. "And I was… callous, to expect your decision to be any easier. I apologize, Commander. It was not my place. I was speaking as the soldier I wished I had been at that time, rather than the susceptible man I was."

Another quiet fell on the room, this one seeming much more forgiving than the last, the stillness allowing Shepard a moment to think on everything she had just heard. "I appreciate you telling me all this," she finally told him, breaking the silence, understanding. "It… certainly helps clear things up. And… I can appreciate where you're coming from. It's never easy to lose friends, even friends we knew we might lose when we signed up. Fellow soldiers." Scuffing the toe of her boot against the grated floor, she paused again, thoughtful, tucking her hands into the pockets of her cargos and worrying at her lower lip as she took a deep breath in. "I had a good friend… Kaidan Alenko," she told him, looking up at him again, speaking quieter now. "He gave his life so I and the rest of my ground team could have time to escape a planet on the verge of destruction. Kaidan was a hero… he sacrificed himself so the rest of us could live."

"Yes," Javik agreed, nodding along, still not making eye contact with her as he spoke. "I have seen his name on the commemorative wall on the crew deck… Lieutenant Alenko. I wondered what had happened to him, that his name should be displayed so prominently on the memorial."

"Ashley and I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for Kaidan," Shepard answered, offering a thin, assenting shrug. "I owe him my life, and… my baby's life as well, I guess. All things considered." Sucking on her lower lip, she faltered, frowning a bit, thoughtful, letting the conversation lapse once more into empty, uncomfortable silence. Then, suddenly seeming to remember something, she looked up again, taking a deep, sharp breath. "It's going to be a girl," she told him, an odd, strangled half-smile drawing at one corner of her lips as she pulled her hands eagerly from her pockets again. "Liara did an ultrasound for me… she says it's going to be a little girl."

At this, Javik looked up at her again, his yellow eyes narrowing, dubious. "Doctor T'Soni is qualified to practice prenatal medicine?" he asked, not even bothering to hide his scepticism.

Shepard hesitated, her arm halfway raised, before resting her hand instead against her ribcage, self-conscious. "No," she admitted. "But, we figured… I figured… if I got Doctor Chakwas to do it, she would forward the information to Hackett, and I couldn't have that happening. Not yet. So we did it when she wasn't there."

"That is brash, Commander," Javik told her, shaking his head. "With that uncertainty in mind, can you even be positive your diagnosis is correct, that it is going to be a girl?"

"Diag—?" Shepard faltered, taken aback, the word stopping on her lips as she frowned, wary. "What do you mean, positive it's correct?" she asked, trying not to sound as disconcerted as she felt. "You mean you think Liara is wrong? I might be having a boy?" Dropping her arm to her side again, she rocked back dazedly onto her back foot, tapping her half-curled fist against her leg as she tried to quell the racing thoughts and clenching sensation in her gut at this thought. She had spent so much time calling her baby 'she' that she had all but convinced herself that that was the only possible outcome, and the sonogram reading had only served to strengthen that idea. However, Javik had admittedly been the first member of her crew to realize she had been pregnant, even before her more telling symptoms had started to appear, and so, in spite of herself, she could not help the sinking feeling that Javik might have more authority on the matter than she was willing to give him credit for.

"It is only a guess," Javik returned, matter-of-factly, turning his attention back to his reflecting pool and dipping his fingers gingerly under the surface, beginning to wet his hands, distractedly. "A feeling… if you will. Not that you are having a boy, necessarily – merely that something does not seem right about the idea of you having a girl."

"What's wrong with me having a girl?" Shepard insisted, defensive, before quickly rethinking and calming herself down instead, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, thoughtfully. "Does your feeling have something to do with my pheromones?"

At this, Javik snorted, his yellow eyes flicking over towards her, incredulous, before returning to his water-basin. "There is no particular chemical given off by expectant women that preemptively reveals the sex of an unborn child," he informed her, snippily. "Your chemical balance changes, and the pheromones you produce change, but it is in response to your body's initial biological imbalance, which is due to the pregnancy, itself. The sex of the baby has no effect on it." Finished rinsing off his hands, he lifted them from the basin, shaking them a few times, flicking the remaining water from them, before turning his attention back towards her again, stony and detached as ever. "I cannot sense your baby's sex, Commander," he told her, frankly. "It is simply not something I can do. If your Doctor T'Soni says you will be having a girl, then that is likely what you will be having."

"Thanks," Shepard answered, letting out a heavy, agitated sigh. "I guess." Reaching up a hand, she tucked an awkward lock of hair behind her ear, not wanting to leave the conversation the way it was but not certain what else there was to add to it. This was the most civil discourse she had ever managed to have with Javik, but even it, like every other conversation she tried to have with the Prothean, was starting to go downhill, fast. "Did you ever have any children, Javik?" she suddenly asked, looking up at him again, leaning her hip against the edge of the furthest table in his setup. Javik's eyes flicked to the table, as if worried she might disturb something by leaning up against it, before turning his attention up towards her again, taking in a thin, detached breath.

"A few," he answered, candidly. "But they are all dead now."

This answer surprised Shepard, her brows shooting upward as she folded her arms attentively across her chest. "Boys or girls?" she pressed, intrigued.

Javik sighed, irritated, the fingers of one hand drumming impatiently against the line of his washbasin as he tried to think how best to explain his situation to her. "In Prothean society, there were no women," he finally told her, speaking frankly. "Our men were conquerors… soldiers. They took what they needed from those they defeated, including mates. We would breed with other species, but our DNA would override theirs, much like your modern asari, in order to create more Protheans." Raising a hand then, he waved it dismissively in her direction, his expression shifting into one of almost tired disdain. "We… did good work," he told her, just defensive enough to catch her interest. "Distributing our knowledge to those less uplifted. But we also took advantage. I see that now. I saw it then, only not nearly as clearly. I myself was only too happy to participate for a while, until I realized how we were taking advantage of those we bred with." Letting out another soft snort of breath, he frowned, crossing his plated arms across his broad chest as his gaze began to drift slowly downward from her face.

"Some species could not handle our DNA," he continued, his voice notably darker now. "Primitive salarians, quarians, raloi… they were too weak, and they often died in childbearing. We needed to find a species that could compatibly help us create more Protheans. And that was when we found Thessia, and the asari." He paused, his yellow eyes shifting thoughtfully between the slats in the floor grates, before he gave another, louder snort of breath. "Of course, this was before my time," he added. "Several million years before. I was not a part of the crew that found Thessia, but the practices remained the same. Find a species that could support our DNA, offer them enlightenment, reap the rewards of colonial growth."

"So in effect your people traded information for sex," Shepard observed, frowning, feeling an uncomfortable squirming sensation start to knot in her gut at the idea.

"Ultimately, yes," Javik returned, giving a thoughtful, halting nod. "At first we simply took whatever we wanted whenever we came across these civilizations, like barbarians. But it did not take long to discover that a large number of unwanted inseminations were prematurely terminated, sometimes resulting in the death of the parent as well." He paused, his frown deepening in thought, his lips drawing into a hard, thin line. "We realized that if we wished to breed with other species, we would have to do so judiciously, not like the savages the war had very nearly forced us to become," he explained. "Which was where the asari came in. Our DNA was stronger than that of the asari, but their bodies were hardy enough to carry our offspring. If you ask Doctor T'Soni about her peoples' history and religion, she will likely tell you stories of Janiri and Lucen, who were so-called 'guides' to the goddess Athame… the children borne of the goddess' guides with members of the asari society were all male children. Protheans. As such they were revered as uplifted ones, themselves. Chosen ones. Prophets born of mortal flesh."

"And what about the goddess, herself?" Shepard asked, intrigued by his explanation despite the sour feeling the conversation was giving her. "Back on Thessia you said Athame was a Prothean concept, but the asari seem to believe she was a real person. Was Athame just another front for Prothean integration into asari society?"

At this, Javik grunted, his head tilting sharply upward as he looked up at Shepard again, alert. "Yes," he agreed, openly. "The goddess Athame was an avatar of Prothean design. Even her name, Athame, was a fabrication by the Prothean arrival crew. The goddess herself, the asari of great power… she never actually existed." Slitting his eyes faintly in thought, he paused, giving a soft, baritone rumbling sound as his gaze drifting away from Shepard's face, resting instead against the wall behind her as he considered his explanation. "The name, Athame, was… an anagram," he continued, speaking slower this time. "Aahmet was the name of the captain, the one who decided to chart the course for Thessia in the first place. He thought it would be clever to name the goddess after himself. …I don't think he ever expected the introduction of the false asari idol to make the impact that it did."

"You mean Athame was created as a front just so your people could breed with the asari?" Shepard asked, making a face, disconcerted.

"Not entirely," Javik corrected, turning his attention back to her and lifting a finger to stop her. "We gave them knowledge – taught them things about science, history, medicine, the arts, and their own biotic abilities that they, themselves might not have discovered for thousands, perhaps millions of years on their own. And in return, they gave us soldiers. It was a fair trade." Crossing his arm over his chest again, he gave a dismissive shrug of one broad, plated shoulder, the corner of his lip lifting ever so slightly to display the edges of his sharp teeth. "It merely also happened that they were a religious people," he added, impassively. "And the idea of a goddess sending down messengers was easier for them to comprehend than a mortal post-spaceflight extraterrestrial species descending from somewhere across the galaxy to offer enlightenment. We did not mean any harm by it. We simply let the asari believe what they wanted to believe."

"But you also bred with them," Shepard pointed out, frowning, perturbed.

"Yes, we bred with them," Javik agreed, bluntly. "And once Aahmet's crew had produced enough Prothean children with the asari, they left again, taking the children with them. The legends of Athame call this the 'ascension back into the heavens' of the guides and prophets, with the promise that they would one day return." Uncrossing his arms from his chest then, he looked down at his washbasin again, dipping his fingers meditatively under the water, disrupting the burbling surface. "We did return to the planet later on, to protect Thessia from an attack by the oravores," he added, thoughtfully, continuing his narrative. "That is recorded in asari religious history as the time when the goddess Athame wielded her great sword to strike down the 'jealous gods' who sought to harm the asari. The imagery makes no sense, but the asari were only too happy to provide more 'prophets' for the descendant 'guides' once they had been saved…" Giving a soft, unimpressed snort, he flicked the water, causing a small splash, before pulling his hand from the basin and shaking the moisture off of it, turning his attention to Shepard once again.

"Primitive asari were much more gullible than your modern asari," Javik explained, curtly. "They were only too eager for something to believe in, and our enlightenment gave them just that. You cannot blame us for taking advantage of a situation, Commander. If you were desperate enough, could you honestly say you would not have done the same?"

"I can honestly say that I wouldn't," Shepard returned his query, frankly. "But… I did have one question. You said that your DNA, Prothean DNA, was stronger than asari DNA, but that was more than fifty thousand years ago. They've had plenty of time to evolve and hone their survivalism since then." Sucking in on her lips, she paused, contemplative, watching him as she tried to think of the most sensitive way to word her question. "So, if you and Liara were to have a child together… theoretically," she asked, speaking slowly, watching as his expression began to shift from stern candour to indignant frustration. "Do you think it would end up being asari, or Prothean?"

"It would end up being aborted," Javik answered, bluntly, not even missing a beat. "Do you have any other actual questions, Commander?"

Shepard frowned, taken aback by his unexpectedly frank answer. "None that need answering right now," she finally said, shaking her head. "Just wanted to check in to see how you were doing, that's all."

"And do you see now?" Javik asked, agitated. "May I now return to what I was doing before my interruption?"

Shepard's brow furrowed deeper, irritated by his blunt, dismissive attitude, before she let out a short huff of breath instead, shaking her bangs out of her eyes, deciding it was not worth fighting over. "Sure," she told him, deadpan. "Sorry for disturbing you." Then, turning away from him again, she waded her way through the fog to the door, letting herself out and watching as the doors closed back over the seeping smoke again, causing the last escaping tendrils to drift upward, taper off, and disappear.