Between the trivial amount of information Shepard had been managing to get out of Miranda concerning the progress of her child's recovery and the near-radio silence she had been getting from Garrus, the isolation on the Minuteman Station had grown to be almost maddening. In spite of his promise to call her back when he had a chance, all Shepard had received from Garrus thus far had been a few sparsely-worded e-mails detailing the rebuild effort on Palaven, and when she had tried to call him back herself, she had been redirected to a surprised-looking communications operator who had informed her that Garrus could not be reached at the moment as he was busy in the field, but he could direct her call to someone else if she wished. She had declined the offer, thanking the communications officer for his time, before disconnecting the call, letting out a heavy, disconcerted sigh, and redirecting the vidcomm to call someone else she had been meaning to talk to for a while.
Liara picked up the call almost instantly, and, after a short, bright greeting, she was only too happy to fill Shepard in on all the details she could safely disclose on her Shadow Broker network, as well as which members of the Normandy she had managed to track down after the end of the War and where a few of them could be reached. As Shepard had suspected, Joker had taken the Normandy someplace safe after the War, and he had reported in as doing well when last Liara had heard from him. Traynor, Cortez, and EDI, along with Oriana and Matilda Lawson, were all still aboard the Normandy, according to Joker, though Khalisa Al-Jilani had requested to stay on Earth after the War to keep the masses informed on current repair and rebuild efforts, as well as current shuttle schedules and important political events and decisions. Her time spent on the Normandy had apparently changed her opinion on Shepard and the Alliance, and her reports reflected her newfound sentiments, lauding the Alliance for their efforts on the War and asking the public to keep an eye out for the 'war hero' Shepard, who the hospital had finally admitted to being missing in action.
"Took them long enough," Shepard had joked at the news, wryly.
"They likely just didn't want to admit to losing you, I suppose," Liara had conceded, straightforwardly. "I can't imagine they would have gotten much good feedback as a result of it. Losing track of a patient is one thing, but when that patient is Commander Shepard—"
"Understandable," Shepard agreed, nodding along. "What happened to the rest of my crew?"
Liara hummed faintly in thought at the question, rolling her plum lips as she turned her attention to another screen outside the scope of the vidscreen, reaching over to select something before scrolling down and beginning to read. "Jacob Taylor is doing well," she reported, giving a reassuring bob of her head, her gaze flicking between Shepard and the outside screen as she read. "He and Doctor Cole have decided to wait until after their child is born to get married. According to a recent doctor visit, it's going to be a little girl, just like yours. Kasumi Goto and Zaeed Massani have vanished, likely to pursue their own interests… I can't imagine there's much work for a mercenary or a master thief on a planet full of destitute refugees." Reaching over to her screen again, she continued scrolling, looking for something else relevant to report on. "Jack and Kahlee Sanders have begun a rebuild effort for Grissom Academy," she continued on, thoughtfully. "Though they suspect they likely won't be able to secure the funding for all the repairs they'll need to do after the attack by Cerberus. Miranda Lawson—"
"Is here with me," Shepard reminded her.
"Right, right," Liara agreed, tapping something on her screen before pulling up her holo-keypad to correct it. "I keep forgetting that. Thank you."
"How is Anderson doing?" Shepard asked, anxiously, leaning in a bit closer to the screen.
"David Anderson is still on life support," Liara reported, regretfully, letting out a soft little sigh. "The good news is that he isn't doing any worse, but the bad news is he isn't doing much better, either. They're doing everything they can, but… it could really go either way at this point."
"And Mordin?" Shepard asked, hopefully.
"Mordin is doing well, as far as I know," Liara answered, a bit more optimistically this time. "Nevos is primarily a sightseeing planet – tourism and politics are their primary attractions – and so it wasn't hit very hard by the Reaper attacks. At least, from what I've heard." Shrugging a bit, she returned her attention to her outside screen, scrolling down a bit further to try to find something else to report on. "They mostly went after culturally and technologically advanced homeworlds," she explained, practically. "Nevos is neither of those. Mordin should be perfectly safe, but I can get you his contact information if you'd like to check up on him, yourself."
"I would like that," Shepard agreed, folding her hands in front of her as she waited for Liara to continue her report.
"Samara left Earth to continue her work as a Justicar," Liara went on, reading from her outside screen. "I hear her daughter has also started taking steps to join her in that profession, which is… commendable, I suppose. With the destruction of the Ardat-Yakshi monastery, I'm not sure what other options she had open to her. It's a worthy line of work, regardless, if a violent one." Her brow furrowing a bit in thought, she continued scrolling downward, her malt-blue eyes trailing across the lines of text Shepard could not see as she looked for something else to tell her. "Grunt returned to TuChanka along with Wrex and Bakara," she added then, raising her painted brows at the news. "Apparently he's been promoted to Warlord under Urdnot Wrex for his service in the Reaper War. Tali returned to the Migrant Fleet, to continue her work as an Admiral… hmm." Pausing then, she retrieved her hand, staring at the outside screen for a moment before turning her attention back towards Shepard and letting out a soft, thwarted sigh. "That's all I have on Tali and the Fleet," she told her. "No mention of the other Admirals or progress on the quarian cooperation with the geth. That might just be my sources coming up short, however. I can give you the contact information for the Fleet and you can ask after that yourself, if you want."
"That would be good," Shepard agreed, nodding along. "Any chance to catch up with Tali would be great."
"I'll forward that contact information to your e-mail," Liara returned, typing something into her holo-keypad. "Along with Mordin's information. I'll send it all to you at once." Then, turning her attention back to the outside screen, she scrolled down the pages of text again, looking for something else relevant to talk about. "Ashley Williams got in contact with her sisters," she reported, optimistically. "They've moved into a small housing unit together, purchased on Ashley's Alliance salary, until they can afford enough to move into something larger. That likely won't happen until some progress has been made on the rebuild effort on Earth – most of what's being built now are compact, simplistic housing units just to give shelter to those still stranded."
"What about Vega?" Shepard asked, her brow furrowing faintly.
"Vega has been spearheading an effort to find you," Liara told her, turning her gaze towards her, worriedly. "Apparently Khalisa's radio news network received an anonymous tip that you were in some sort of trouble or danger. Vega has put together a reward for any relevant information leading to your whereabouts." Letting out a soft breath, she frowned again, turning her attention back to her information screen and starting to scroll down the page once more. "I'm not sure what kind of person would go around spreading rumours like that," she added, shortly. "It's cruel, really, making up fallacies to make people worry about you more than they already do."
"Do you have any information on Thane?" Shepard asked, hoping to change the subject.
"Nothing on Thane," Liara returned, shaking her head as she perused her information screen. "There's a record saying he fought in the Reaper War, but after that… nothing. He just vanishes. I suppose I can't really be surprised, all things considered…" Letting out a soft sigh, she frowned again, turning her attention back towards Shepard. "I had really hoped we might be able to save him," she said, folding her gloved hands in front of her, worriedly. "Perhaps he got a ride off-world. The information I gave him on my contact was very vague, but… he has resources of his own. Perhaps he managed to find a way to do what I couldn't."
"I hope so," Shepard answered, frankly, though she knew the chances of that were slim. Thane was good, but with all the resistance and outbound gridlock facing those stranded on Earth, it was unlikely even someone with his skill and contacts had managed to find a way off-world. "And what about Garrus?" she asked then, turning her attention back to Liara. "Have you been able to get in contact with Garrus?"
Liara sighed, her shoulders falling a bit as she rested her perusing hand on her desk, tapping the gloved pad of her thumb anxiously against the side of her index finger. "Garrus has just been busy, Shepard," she told her, honestly, shaking her head. "He's really not avoiding you. I managed to tap into his e-mails, and he's just… very, very busy. They've got him answering requests at all hours of the night… I don't know when he has time to sleep." Frowning then, she paused in her thoughtful fidgeting, her plum lips drawing into a thin, curious line as she considered Shepard through the vidscreen. "He's doing an excellent job in assisting the rebuild effort, to his credit," she added, matter-of-factly. "Haven't you heard anything from him? An e-mail, or… anything at all?"
"I mean," Shepard answered, giving a curt, truthful shrug of her shoulders. "He sent e-mails. But that's… it's not the same as a vidcomm call. I didn't mean to upset him last time, I just thought… maybe…" She faltered, trailing off, considering, her brow furrowing into a hard, thoughtful line, before letting out a heavy huff of breath, her shoulders falling as she sank a bit lower in her chair. "I don't know what I thought," she admitted, quieter. "I thought he'd want to talk to me, maybe try to work things out, ever since I told him… but I guess not. I guess… he really did care more than I gave him credit for."
"You thought he wouldn't care?" Liara asked, sounding surprised, her painted brows moving quickly upward. "Shepard…"
"I… no," Shepard admitted, quickly, feeling suddenly guilty. "I… did, think he'd care. I just… I don't know. I thought he'd be more understanding. Like… he'd realize I didn't mean it. That it wasn't my fault." She paused again, thinking about this, before letting out a soft sigh and dropping her gaze away from the screen once more. "Except that it is my fault," she admitted. "All of this is my fault. I should have just told somebody, Liara. I should have just…" Trailing off, she shook her head, tucking her arms across her chest and burying her hands under her armpits as she let out a soft, disappointed sigh. "I should have aborted her when I had the chance," she said, even quieter. "Then none of this would have happened. Garrus wouldn't be mad at me, and I… wouldn't be stuck here, waiting for something that's probably never going to happen."
"You don't mean that," Liara told her, shaking her head, determinedly. "I know you, Shepard. If you really hadn't wanted to have this baby, you would have gotten rid of her by now."
"I… just don't know that that's true, Liara," Shepard returned, looking up at her friend again. "Do you know what she said? Miranda. You know what Miranda said?" Taking a deep breath in, she dug her heels into the metal flooring of the station, her expression twisting as her hands clenched into fists under her arms, preparing herself to go on. "She said if my baby survived – if she lived – she would be severely developmentally challenged," she said. "I don't know how to deal with that, Liara. I was terrified just thinking about raising a baby who didn't need extra help, but this… this is something else. Something I'm not sure I'm capable of dealing with." Pulling her hands out from under her arms, she leaned forward in her seat again, folding her hands anxiously in front of her as she stared earnestly through the screen at Liara. "What if something goes wrong, Liara?" she asked, barely speaking above a worried whisper. "What if something happens, and she's… she's just… she's miserable. I don't want to do that to her. I don't want to be that person."
"Do you honestly believe that's what's going to happen?" Liara asked, seriously, leaning forward in her seat as well. "Do you really think this will all be for nothing? Shepard, Miranda is the best there is—"
"You know what Garrus called me?" Shepard asked, cutting her off. "Cruel. He said forcing the baby to continue living when she was legally braindead was cruel. And then he compared me to Cerberus." Taking a deep breath in, she wet her lips, her hands starting to fidget unconsciously in front of her as her expression furrowed deeper, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking as she went on. "I don't want to be no better than Cerberus, Liara," she told her, solemnly. "Is what I'm doing really that cruel? It's been… weeks, with barely any sign of improvement in brain activity. What if, by trying to make things better, I'm just making things worse?"
Liara sighed, leaning back in her chair, her hands folded thoughtfully in front of her on her desk as she stared at Shepard through the vidscreen, weary. "I think the only person who can make that decision is you," she finally told her, frankly. "I think what you're doing is wonderful. That child clearly means a lot to you, and from what I can tell, it seems like you're doing everything you can to save her. But if you don't feel the same way…" She paused, frowning faintly, before her expression cleared and she shrugged her shoulders, offering another soft, tired huff of breath. "It's not my position to tell you how to feel," she said, continuing onward. "You have to do what feels right for you. I'm not here to tell you what to do, only… to hope you're happy with whatever decision you end up making."
"I'm not asking you to tell me how to feel," Shepard answered, her brow furrowing, unable to help but feel a bit offended at the implication. "I was just… hoping for some insight, I guess. Everything feels like I'm running in circles, like… I try to do something good, something decent, and I just end up shooting myself in the foot instead." Clenching her hands into fists in front of her, she took in a sharp breath, glancing over her shoulder, before turning her attention back to Liara and indicating back in the direction of the lab. "What if Garrus doesn't even want the child when he sees her?" she asked, a bit harsher than intended. "Even if this does work, even if she does survive, what will happen if he takes one look at her and decides he can't deal with being her father?"
"Do you really think Garrus would do that?" Liara asked, her voice practicedly impassive.
Shepard faltered, thinking about this, halfway between anger and humiliation, before finally deflating again, defeated, the hand still curled in a fist in front of her loosening until it lay flat on the desk. "No," she answered, honestly, shaking her head and letting out a soft sigh. "I don't know what I was thinking. Garrus is a good guy, he wouldn't do that. I'm just… trying to talk myself out of it, I guess. Trying to be realistic. But…" Looking up at Liara again, she made a face, her hand fidgeting absentmindedly on the desk in front of her. "None of this makes any sense, Liara," she told her, quieter this time, almost pleading. "I just want something to make sense for once."
Liara nodded, understanding, turning her malt-blue gaze downward as she took in a deep, solemn breath. Then, looking up at Shepard again, she paused, thoughtful, before offering her a soft, reassuring, if somewhat forced-looking smile. "I have to get back to work," she told her. "It was good talking with you, Shepard." Then, her smile fading a bit, she tilted her head to one side, considering Shepard with a sympathetic gaze, before letting out another gentle, melancholy sigh. "Don't be too hard on yourself, okay?" she added, earnestly, causing Shepard to look up at her again, a bit surprised. "Everything will turn out all right. You'll see. Take care of yourself, Shepard."
"I will," Shepard answered, shortly, nodding in agreement. "And… you, too, Liara. Take care." Then, leaning back in her chair again, she watched as Liara leaned forward towards her vidscreen, offering Shepard one last, encouraging smile, before pressing the button on the side and disconnecting the call.
A soft knock on the door frame of the rec room made Shepard look up from her holographic puzzle in surprise, frowning a bit as she craned her neck to peer down at Miranda from the top of the stairs. The last time Miranda had come to find her here had been to deliver some dire news, and so Shepard could not help but feel a bit on edge as she dragged the digital piece she had been trying to place back to the edge of the board, watching as Miranda began to make her way up the flight of stairs and across the platform towards her. Miranda seemed entirely at ease as she approached, however, which allowed Shepard to relax a bit as she came to stand beside her at the table. Miranda paused, considering the board, tilting her head to one side to get a better look at the puzzle, before taking in a deep, thoughtful breath and turning her attention to Shepard instead. "There's an incoming message waiting for you on the holocomm station," she said, sucking in on her lower lip. "I think it's Admiral Hackett." Then, reaching down to the puzzle piece Shepard had set aside, she dragged it forward onto the board, setting it in place with a soft beep, before withdrawing her hand again and returning to considering the puzzle once more.
At this news, Shepard turned to look back at Miranda with a faint, surprised frown. "Hackett?" she asked, taken aback. "Hackett knows how to reach me here?"
Miranda shrugged, dragging another puzzle piece into place on the board, before folding her arms over her ribcage, cupping each elbow in the opposite palm as she gave a soft, pensive sigh. "I didn't tell him where to find you," she answered, honestly, seeming unfazed by this. "He must have tracked you from your e-mail origin signal. I haven't been making efforts to mask our location. That takes station energy, and we have limited energy as it is." Shrugging again, she let her hands drop back to her sides, indicating for Shepard to follow behind her as she turned away towards the stairs again, heading out of the rec room before starting to make her way towards the heart of the station. "I've been using most of our energy to run the gestation lab," she continued on, matter-of-factly. "With Cerberus disbanded and the previous crew missing in action or dead, I didn't think it was important to take steps to hide us from civilization. If anyone comes looking for us, I can put the station on lockdown, but until then, I think we're doing just fine."
"That makes sense," Shepard agreed, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. "I'm glad you know what you're doing, Miranda. I wouldn't have any idea what to do with a station like this."
"I got used to running a station alone on the Lazarus Cell," Miranda explained, shortly, stopping in front of the central elevator to press the button going up. "Wilson was there with me, of course, but… we all know how useful Wilson was." Looking up, she watched as the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, allowing them inside, before stepping in ahead of Shepard and making her way to the row of buttons to select their designated floor. "Everyone else was always coming and going," she went on, letting out a soft sigh as she moved to the back wall of the elevator, leaning back against the cool siding as she watched the grated sides of the elevator shaft passing outside the glass-panelled lift. "Jacob Taylor included. He was more of a… supply man. Weaponry specialist. Came to deliver mechs and check up on our systems every once in a while, make sure we were running smoothly. Mostly it was just me and Wilson… and the Illusive Man, via vidcomm, watching our every move."
"Sounds tough," Shepard commented, frowning a bit.
"It was," Miranda agreed, letting out a soft sigh. "But we got used to it after a while. Or, most of it. You never really do get over the feeling of being watched." Stopping then, she stood up from her spot against the wall of the elevator, watching as the lift coasted to a smooth stop, the doors sliding open with another soft ding as it waited for them to get off on their floor. "I'll be in the lab if you need anything," she told Shepard, stepping out of the elevator ahead of her and waving a hand in the direction of the lab. "Everything is running smoothly thus far, but if you have any questions, you know where to find me." Then, turning away from her again, she headed in the direction of the station laboratory, leaving Shepard to her own devices at the vidcomm station.
It felt strange to use the Cerberus holocomm again – though it was similar to the pit station she had had aboard the Normandy, she had not utilized this particular comm since her first days working for the Illusive Man, and she could not help but feel a sense of subconscious apprehension as she stepped onto the circular platform. The comm system gave a soft series of beeps as it registered her weight activating the system, and no sooner had it passed her through when Hackett's blue form flickered into life in front of her, his hands folded dutifully behind his back as he waited for her to pick up the line. Hackett looked exactly the same as she remembered him, apart from a single, healing, taped-over cut on his cheek, his tough, grizzled expression unmoving as he regarded her through the holocomm. "Shepard," he greeted her, straightforwardly, wasting no time on sentiment. "It's been a while. Last I heard you were in intensive care for some serious injuries. I didn't hear that you'd been released."
"I got out a few weeks ago," Shepard told him, just as shortly. "Left on one of the outbound shuttles. I've been keeping kind of a low profile since then." She paused, considering going on, but figured it was unimportant to point out that the shuttle she had left on had been a private one, and that she had never actually been officially released from hospital care, especially considering her otherwise questionable decisions up to that point. She had thought the hospital might have gotten in contact with her superiors at the first sign of her disappearance, but if Hackett knew that she had left of her own accord, or that she had been pregnant at the time she had been brought into the hospital, he was being surprisingly quiet about it. "I'm sorry I didn't stick around long enough to let you know what was going on," she added, trying hard not to make a guilty face as she shifted her weight anxiously to her back foot. "But… I figured it was probably better this way, all things considered."
"Understandable," Hackett returned, offering her a curt nod of confirmation. Then, taking a deep breath in, he cleared his throat, looking down for a moment as if to check something, before looking up at her again, just as sternly. "Listen, Shepard," he told her, frankly. "Some of your superiors were talking, and we decided that we'd like to honour you with a big coming-home ceremony, if you'd be up for it. Everyone in the Alliance would be invited to honour your dedication and service." He paused then, his bushy brow furrowing a bit in thought, before taking another breath, preparing to go on. "We'd also like to promote you to the rank of Captain at the same time," he added, speaking a bit slower this time. "If you would be willing to accept the honour."
Shepard hesitated, taken aback, unsure how to respond to such a sudden, prodigious offer. The idea that Hackett not only wanted her to continue her career in the Alliance, but wanted to honour and promote her for her service to the galaxy despite all the questionable calls she had made up to then, was a bit more than she could wrap her head around at the moment. She stood in silence for a long minute, trying to come to terms with this idea, before finally shifting back to her front foot, wetting her lips as she took a deep breath in. "I'm… honoured," she told him, honestly, unsure what else there was to say. "But… I don't think I'm ready for a large ceremony. In fact…" She paused again, trailing off, uncertain, before taking a deep breath in and letting it out in a short, heavy sigh. "I'd prefer to just… retire, Sir," she told him, candidly, trying hard not to flinch at the word. It felt so strange coming off her tongue; until then she had always considered herself a career military woman, someone to whom retirement was synonymous with death, but after everything she had been through, she could not see herself continuing on in the service with the same enthusiasm she had had for her work even barely six months prior. "Maybe just a small, private ceremony, without a lot of pomp and circumstance," she added, hopefully, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie to keep him from seeing her nervous fidgeting. "Just you, my mother, and… Admiral Anderson, if he's feeling better by then."
"Admiral Anderson is in a coma," Hackett reminded her, stolidly. "We're not sure if 'feeling better' is a viable option at this point."
"Still?" Shepard asked, discouraged by this news. "I thought the doctors said there was a chance he'd come out of it. Why isn't he getting better?"
"Admiral Anderson lost a lot of blood on the Citadel," Hackett explained, gravely. "He was in hypovolemic shock when we found him. Coma had to be induced so as to prevent his body from attacking itself and shutting down." Taking a deep breath in, Hackett held it, his shoulders stiffening with the motion, before he let it out again in a long, solemn sigh. "It's been seven weeks since he was put into the coma," he added, solemnly. "Kahlee Sanders said at the start that she would give him three months to recover until she pulled life support. She figured it would be kinder that way."
"How are his chances looking?" Shepard asked, trying hard not to make an expectant face.
"Not good," Hackett answered, honestly, shaking his head. "Best case, we're looking at severe kidney damage. That's easy enough to fix, if we can find a replacement donor. Then there's always the possibility he'll develop gangrene in one or more of his limbs from a lack of circulation and have to have something amputated, but even that shouldn't be too hard to deal with. Thank god for modern prosthetics."
"And worst case?" Shepard asked, anxiously. Then, shaking her head, she quickly held up a hand, stopping him from explaining. "Nevermind," she said, frankly. "I don't need to know."
Hackett frowned, his bushy brow furrowing, his thin lips pursing in a hard, taut line as he let out a short, soft exhale. "I think a small ceremony can be arranged," he told her, returning to the conversation at hand. "It's a pity you won't be returning to the service, but if that's your decision I won't argue with it. Just be sure to let us know when you're in local space again and we'll get that ceremony set up for you." Then, nodding towards her again, he straightened his posture, drawing his heels in together as he took another deep, deferential breath in. "It was a pleasure working with you, Commander," he told her. "Hackett out."
Shepard opened and closed her fingers around the star-pattern stress ball she had found in one of the crew members' nightstands as she waited for the vidcomm link to pick up on the other side, watching the little blue loading symbol spinning around and around as it searched for a signal. Liara had been commendably prompt about sending her the contact information she had asked for, and, with nothing better to do, she had decided that now was as good a time as any to test it out. The vidcomm screen gave a cheerful beep as it located a satellite in the Silean Nebula, and Shepard looked up, pausing in her nervous squeezing as the loading symbol began to spin faster, making the final link to its outgoing destination. The screen flashed a few times as the line was picked up, and Shepard could not help a small smile from inching across her face at the sight of Mordin quickly taking a seat in front of the vidcomm screen, as eager as she remembered him as he stared back at her with an expression of delight. "Shepard," he greeted her, brightly, his lids flicking quickly over his eyes in excitement at the sight of her. "Long time no see. Did not expect to hear from you. Was surprised when Doctor T'Soni contacted me to say you might call."
"Liara is a terrible Shadow Broker," Shepard answered, letting out a soft, fond chuckle in return, before allowing the stress ball to fall back to her lap, turning her full attention on Mordin. "She can't keep a secret to save her life. I was hoping to make it a surprise."
"Still surprised," Mordin assured her, agreeably. "Always good to hear from you. Looking well."
"How is Nevos?" Shepard asked, leaning forward a bit in her seat. "Hopefully the War didn't affect you too badly over there."
"Nevos known for tourism," Mordin answered, matter-of-factly. "As can be imagined, not much tourism going on these days. No disposable income after the War. Metropolis nearly deserted." Having said this, he turned the vidscreen around, holding it up for her so that it looked out over the sprawling landscape beyond. "Fascinating infrastructure," he commented, off-screen. "Corporate arcologies everywhere. Supposed to be secret, but not much effort put into hiding. No need. No large-scale regulations to keep them in check." Turning the vidscreen back around towards himself again, he took a deep breath in, closing his almond eyes halfway, before the edges of his cheerful mouth began to twist faintly upward in a wry smile. "Underhanded business practices hand in hand with crooked politics," he remarked, drolly. "All against a mountainous dual-moon backdrop. Very romantic. Can't complain."
"It sounds great," Shepard told him, letting out another soft laugh. "And how are you doing, Mordin? Feeling okay?"
"Doing quite well," Mordin commended, offering a short, confirming bob of his head in return. "Arm healed nicely. Head healed as well, albeit a bit slower. Also, did not realize I could tan. Pleasant surprise." Holding up his arm then, he turned it over, examining the autumn tones of his skin, before letting it drop back down to his lap and returning his attention to Shepard once more. "Heard from my nephew," he added, quickly, seeming to perk up again as he remembered this detail. "Tells me he has a new project. Also new prospective lab assistant. Not certain what happened to last assistant… likely killed in Reaper attacks. Either way, very exciting."
"That is exciting," Shepard agreed. "I'm glad he's doing okay, wherever he is."
"Somewhere in the Phoenix Massing Cluster, I think," Mordin answered, helpfully. "Doesn't matter. Point is, he is doing well. But, how are you, Shepard? Doing well also, I hope?"
Shepard hesitated, considering telling him the truth of her worries, before taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a soft, tired sigh. "I'm all right, Mordin," she told him, honestly. "Can't really complain. The War is over, so that's… good, I guess."
"Can see that you're no longer pregnant," Mordin observed, steepling his fingers in front of him, getting right to the point. "Remember hearing from Liara after… traumatizing incident. Seemed intent on keeping foetus alive at the time. Change of heart? Or attempt to save foetus after Leviathan incident failed?"
"Neither," Shepard told him, shaking her head. "I had… another incident. Miranda Lawson determined the only way to keep the baby alive would be to take her out of my body."
"Interesting," Mordin observed, nodding in return, not bothering to press the matter. "Will not argue with Miss Lawson's determinations. Not privy to details. Also, she? Indicates female. Would have guessed male. Very interesting."
"You know, everyone keeps saying that," Shepard told him, frowning a bit, though she could not help a faint, curious smile from turning up the edges of her lips in contrast. "I have no idea why."
"Meant no disrespect," Mordin assured her, holding up his hands, his lids flicking quickly over his eyes as he spoke. "Simply meant, always imagined you having a boy. But, can see you with a girl just as well. Makes no difference." Letting his hands fall back down again, Mordin took a deep breath in, considering Shepard with a warm, fond look. "Good to hear from you, Shepard," he told her. "Wish I had more exciting news. Nevos very peaceful. Quiet. Can't complain. Plenty of seashells to experiment on. But… do sometimes miss the exhilaration of the Normandy." Hesitating then, he held up a finger, shaking his head, before quickly correcting himself, "Would not trade one for the other, however. Much prefer Nevos at this point in my life. Just… sometimes miss the unpredictability. Never know what will happen next. Like… turian-human hybrid foetus, for instance."
Shepard laughed at the observation, unable to help herself, before shaking her head and turning her gaze down from the vidcomm screen to her desk. "Yeah," she agreed, honestly. "I miss it too, Mordin. I miss the people, mostly… my crew. The missions could be nervewracking, but you guys…" Taking a deep breath in, she looked up again, offering him a sad, pallid smile. "You guys always made it worth it," she told him.
Mordin chuckled at the sentiment, offering another reassuring nod of his head. "Did have an excellent Commander, after all," he returned, candidly. "Would not have been possible without her."
Shepard smiled again at this, more sincerely this time, before leaning in on her elbows towards the vidcomm screen, looking up affectionately into Mordin's burnt-umber face. "It's good to see you, Mordin," she told him, gratefully. "I don't know where I'd be without you."
"Likely still working for Cerberus," Mordin answered, before giving a short, impish little chortle in return.
The circular loading symbol on the blue vidscreen looped around and around as it searched for a signal, and Shepard could not help but feel a bit on edge as she waited for it to connect. She knew it was likely all in her head, but it seemed to take more and more time for the signal to go through every time she tried to make a call to Palaven, almost as if the cosmos knew how anxious it made her and was making her wait on purpose. When the call finally did manage to link through, Shepard was unsurprised to find that the person picking up on the other end was a communications officer, this time a different officer than she had gotten the first time. The officer asked her for her name and who she was trying to reach, and when she told him her information, he informed her, just as the other officer had, that Garrus was busy in the field, but that he could relay her call to the next highest ranking official who might be able to get her message to him. Shepard had hesitated, considering declining again, before deciding that it could not hurt to see who was next in charge and accepting the transfer, sitting back in her seat as the screen went blue again, the maddening circular symbol spinning around in blank space as she waited for the call to pass through.
The turian who answered the transferred call was hunched over a datapad when the call finally went through, and he lifted a hand to the screen, indicating for her to wait a moment before he could address her concerns. Shepard frowned at the setback, drumming her fingers anxiously against the line of her desk, before letting out a short, sharp huff of breath and leaning in forward towards the screen on her elbows. "I need your help," she told him, shortly. "I can see you're busy, but I've been trying to get in contact with Primarch Victus' resident Reaper advisor and he isn't answering any of my c—" Suddenly, she stopped, cutting her explanation short, her eyes growing wide as she recognized the face of her new, ranking contact through the vidcomm screen. "Sidonis?" she asked, taken aback. "Lantar Sidonis? Is that you?"
Sidonis looked up at the sound of his name, faltering a moment, unsure who was asking, before his eyes suddenly widened at the sight of Shepard, his mandibles flaring out from his chin as he gaped at her, too astonished to react immediately. He looked as if he might be ill at the sight of her, and for a moment he simply stared, his hand twitching in front of him, as if seriously considering simply hanging up on her and pretending this run-in had never occurred. Then, clearing his throat again, he clenched his fist, dropping his hand into his lap, before offering her a short, awkward nod of his head. "Commander," he said, forwardly. "How… can I help you?"
"I…" Shepard faltered, still too surprised to answer immediately. Then, taking a deep breath, she leaned in forward towards the vidscreen, frowning as she considered him, causing him to lean a bit away in return, as if nervous she might actually come through the screen to his side. "What are you doing here, Sidonis?" she asked, not bothering to try to be delicate. "Last time I saw you, we were dropping you off to work on the Crucible Project. You're still a criminal as far as your government is concerned – how did you go from working on the Crucible to working on the rebuild effort on Palaven?"
"I actually have an explanation for that," Sidonis answered quickly, holding up a helpful finger and sitting up straighter in his seat. "Primarch Victus afforded me a full pardon for my work on the Crucible Project. Because of that, they gave me a job in worker relations for the rebuild effort. It's my job to listen for workplace grievances and relay them to my superiors at the top so they can work to fix them." Letting his hand drop down again, he offered her an encouraged expression, his plated countenance brightening a bit as his mandibles bobbed hopefully at his chin. "So far it's been a pretty effective method," he added. "There's been only a couple minor scuffles since I started working, and they were mostly over things management couldn't fix. Personal matters, things like that."
Shepard paused, surprised by this explanation. Then, leaning back in her seat again, she nodded, resting her hand on the table, thoughtfully rubbing the side of her index finger with the pad of her thumb. "It sounds like you're doing good work," she told him. "I'm proud of you, Sidonis. You really turned yourself around."
At this, Sidonis looked down again, fidgeting with his hands in his lap, his mandibles starting to twitch a bit faster, a sign of embarrassment Shepard had learned by watching Garrus' reactions. "It's a big responsibility," Sidonis finally acknowledged, looking up at her again, trying his hardest to appear unaffected by her hard-won vote of confidence. "But they seem to trust me well enough to do it. Garrus was actually the one who vouched for me, believe it or not. He said… if anyone knew how to spot a plot in the making, it was someone who had done it once, himself." Having said this, he suddenly paused, thinking on it, before letting out a low, soft huff of breath and dropping his yellow gaze to his holo-keypad, beginning to tap distractedly at the edge of the frame. "Which is… I guess his way of saying he still hasn't forgiven me for betraying him back when we worked together," he added, painfully straightforward. "But… still, he got me a job. I'm grateful for that, at least."
"Garrus is a good guy," Shepard agreed, openly. She paused a moment, considering whether to pry further, before clearing her throat gently and leaning in a bit closer to the screen. "Have… you heard from him at all?" she asked, hesitantly. "Garrus? Has he… said anything about me, maybe?"
At this question, Sidonis looked up at her again, his plated brow furrowing faintly in a look of surprise. "About you?" he repeated, sounding taken aback. He paused a moment, thinking about it, trying to remember if he had heard anything of interest, before finally shaking his head and drawing his hand back in towards him again. "No, I… haven't really heard much from him about you," he answered, honestly. "Then again, I don't really talk to him much, and… well, we're not exactly close. Not anymore." He faltered then, considering his answer, before looking down from Shepard again, frowning a bit. "I don't think he would talk to me about you even if he wanted to," he added, starting to play with his holo-keypad again. "…Wanted to talk about you, that is. I don't think he trusts me with that kind of information. Not that I would do anything with it, mind you, just that…" He faltered again, pausing momentarily in his fidgeting, before turning his yellow gaze up towards her again, letting out a tired huff of breath. "It's a long process, earning back his trust," he told her, solemnly. "It's… hard for him to let go of wrongs. Bad ones, at least. Small grievances, they roll off like water. But big things…"
"I understand," Shepard told him, just as staid.
Sidonis gave a soft scoff at this, shaking his head as he withdrew his hand again. "I don't know that you do," he told her, frankly. "You pretty much walk on air, as far as he's concerned… to use a human idiom."
"I think you mean walk on water," Shepard corrected, frowning a bit. "It's a reference to a human religious text—"
"It doesn't matter," Sidonis argued, cutting her off. "Garrus uses them all the time, or at least he tries to. None of them make any sense to me." Shepard stifled a small, fond smile at this revelation, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible as she waited for Sidonis to continue on. Taking in a deep breath, Sidonis held it for a moment, annoyed, before finally letting it out in a short, sharp huff. "Listen," he told her, frankly. "I'll see what I can do. Y'know… about telling Garrus you're trying to get in contact with him. I don't know that I'll be able to do much, but… I'll do what I can, regardless." Pausing then, his frown deepened a bit, his mandibles tapping thoughtfully against his chin, before his expression suddenly cleared and he looked up at her once more, his yellow eyes sincere. "I mean… it's the least I can do for you," he told her, more earnestly now. "And Garrus, too. Without the two of you, I'd still be rotting in a jail cell on the Citadel. In fact, I'd probably be dead by now… all things considered."
"Right," Shepard agreed, shortly, not wanting to get into it. The memory of the mangled bodies strewn throughout the halls of the Citadel was bad enough without the thought of people she knew having been part of the carnage. Sidonis gave another pause, his mandibles hovering near his chin, before picking up his datapad again and starting to put something into it. Shepard craned her neck a bit, trying to see what he was typing, only to realize her in-ear translator could not help her read the written Palev dialect and sitting back down in her seat again, defeated. Setting his datapad aside once more, Sidonis turned his attention back to her, letting out a short, tired sigh as he placed his hands on the desk in front of him.
"From what I can tell, Garrus has put in a request specifically not to take outside calls," he told her, matter-of-factly. "He says the distraction detracts from his ability to do his work. According to my records, he's made it clear that he only wishes to take calls from family." Frowning again, he shrugged his broad shoulders, helpless and disappointed. "I'm sorry, Commander," he told her, honestly. "I can put in an appeal for reconsideration, but I can't override a direct request. I don't have that authority."
"That's okay, Sidonis," Shepard told him, letting out a short sigh of her own. "Don't worry about it. I appreciate you trying, anyway. I guess he's just… busy, with his work." Sinking a bit deeper into her chair, she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, pausing a moment, considering him, before forcing an awkward, crooked smile. "You're all doing good work over there," she told him. "I don't know that I'd be able to do what you're doing. Rebuilding an entire planet, it's… a lot to think about."
"Hm," Sidonis answered, folding his hands together on his desk. "I appreciate the sentiment, Commander, but after everything you've done for the galaxy, the work I'm doing here kind of pales in comparison."
"That's not true," Shepard told him, forwardly. "You can't undermine the work you're doing. Without people like you and Garrus, there wouldn't be a Palaven."
"I guess so," Sidonis answered, letting his gaze fall back to his folded hands, his mandibles giving gentle, thoughtful tics against his chin as he spoke. "But I'm just one cog in a bigger wheel. You're a real hero, Commander Shepard." Looking up at her again, he took in another breath, considering her, before the datapad at his elbow began to beep, signifying an incoming message. Quickly picking up the datapad, he scrolled to the top, checking the memorandum, before turning his attention back to Shepard, his mandibles moving much more enthusiastically now. "I have to go," he told her, shortly. "It was good talking with you, Commander." Then, reaching forward to the vidcomm screen, he shut it off, causing the screen to go black, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more.
Shepard frowned at the hasty cessation, leaning back in her chair again, before letting out another deep, thoughtful sigh and stretching her legs out in front of her. "A real hero," she repeated, quietly. "I just wish I believed that."