Omega Nebula
Sahrabarik System, Urdak
There was no one in the room with Aria. When matters become complicated, she preferred to drink and think in solitude. Lifting the glass up to the light, she studied the pale yellow liquid before taking a sip. Velvety and slightly toasty. Better than some of the austere vintage offered by fawning sycophants and supplicants hoping to claw their bit of turf on Omega. The news spread very quickly. She made sure of that once the Alliance engineers confirmed that the station could be safely sanitized. The numbers and the resources they would bring were more than enough to forecast a steady revenue and a substantial restoration.
She took another sip as she gazed at the panorama beyond the wall windows. That was one problem resolved. The logistics of reviving Omega was nothing compared to the complication of the augmented survivors. Not so easily settled with money, supplies, materials or people. It was more of recognition, trust and acceptance. Intangible elements that could not be bought and would not be given readily or not at all.
The intercom buzzed. She hit the receive key with the bottom of the glass. "Yes?"
"An incoming call from the Systems Alliance, Aria," a turian mercenary said diffidently. "It's Admiral Hackett."
"Put him through." She settled back in her chair and took another sip as the screen flickered on above the table. A lined face with a silvery-grey beard looked out at her.
"Ms T'Loak."
"Admiral Hackett."
"There seems to be a problem. What kind of gig did you promise the changelings?"
Was that what the Systems Alliance called the augmented survivors? Changelings. That was one apt way of defining them.
"The same thing that is offered without question to the survivors," she said.
"We both know that is impossible."
Shrugging nonchalantly, she met the human's pale cool gaze. "Is that fair to the changelings when all they want is to go home to live in peace with their family?"
"They are with their family."
She leaned forward. "They don't know that. All they understand right now is their desires and freedom are thwarted. They are imprisoned. That is a risky position to put them in."
She was stating the obvious but she had to emphasize the price of such a course of action. The existence of the changelings was not public knowledge but there were witnesses. The Alliance could place the changelings under deep freeze if they revolted and perhaps suffer some casualties for it but would they want to carry out such an action? If word got out, most governments wouldn't make an issue of it, given the current situation with the TI but some aspiring politician with an agenda against the Systems Alliance could bring it up in the far future and create complications.
"The result of their request is a foregone conclusion," he said.
"Not if someone back their cause."
His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Then you know why I'm making this call."
She regarded him sombrely. His meaning was crystal clear to her. If the changelings were rejected, they had one official recourse. Appeal to the Council. If the Council was inclined to be sympathetic and magnanimous, they could be relocated to an isolated world. Such an enterprise meant their settlement would not prosper since their numbers were few. Such an end would not be acceptable to the changelings. Either way, the Council option was a dead end.
So what was left? Since she made a point of advocating their rights, they would look to her. She made that promise and would not renege on it. She would try her best to find a place for them if they could not go home. If they changed their minds, they could attempt to escape and strike out for themselves. That would spell nothing but a pointless death for them.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Hackett's expression softened. "I'm aware of the understanding you reached with them. There is something you should know. Their medical prognosis is not good. They have a maximum span of six months left to live."
Six months. All that fight, the suffering and only six months left. She did not think they were informed yet. Would they have understood if he did?
"All of them?" she said with a faint inflection of protest at that unfair return the great consciousness had dealt the changelings.
"The only asari among them, Miona T'Riest, is the exception. Her medical scans gave her a clean bill of health. She is non-contagious and apparently not indoctrinated." Hackett eyed her speculatively. "From our observation of their group dynamics, T'Riest appears to be the leader and spokesperson."
And the most likely one to instigate a revolt if he could not convince the other governments to accept the changelings' return. "You want me to speak with her."
"Of them all, she has the greatest probability to return home and thrive," he said. He shook his head at her careful blank expression. "I know what she can be to your people. I would not like to have any accident happen to her."
In that, he was right. If Miona was as safe as he said, she would be an asset. The young asari would not see it that way naturally. Much would depend on how astute and cognizant she was of her situation. She would have to handle her carefully.
Hackett watched the pirate queen intently. Though she was not letting much show on her face, he knew there was only one response she would make. He could ask the Asari government to send someone but she would be a stranger to T'Riest and likely not sympathetic. That could spark off the wrong reaction from the changeling. He would prefer the young asari not take out her angst on the medical crew. Aria T'Loak was the only person, other than Shepard, who could reach out to her because of their interaction on Omega and likely the one capable of handling her.
"I expect a favourable reply once the plight of the changelings is made known to their respective governments. Arrangements for their departure from the medical ship is expected in no less than two weeks. I'm sending you the coordinates of where it is stationed right now," he said.
"Thank you, admiral. I will make arrangements to get there as soon as possible."
SSV Glasgow
Liara tried not to pace but standing still was next to impossible. Sifting through the Omega files would provide some form of distraction but she did not have the heart for it. Talking would be ideal but other than Javik who was ensconced in that familiar distant facade, there was no one else in the medical bay. She would prefer to stay with April at the diagnostic medbed at the other end of the room but the surgeon commander had politely requested she waited elsewhere. Throwing another glance at the doctor who was bending over her unconscious bondmate, she could take some comfort in his measured movements, calm demeanor and quiet discussion with the surgeon lieutenant. Surely they would behave in a agitated manner if April's condition was dire.
She turned when someone addressed her softly and was glad to see a friendly face. "Dorrin."
"I heard." He looked worriedly at the doctors working around April. "What happened down there?"
"I am not sure." She flicked a glance at Javik who did not turn his head from his scrutiny of the activity. "She collapsed after talking to the V.I."
"And?" Dorrin gazed enquiringly at her. "What did Vigil do to have such an effect? I understand a few metres separates the terminal from the edge of the forcefield. Was there some kind of energy leakage?"
Hands unconsciously twisting against each other, Liara shook her head. "I really do not know," she said helplessly, resisting the temptation to say more. One thing would lead to another and unless April indicated otherwise, the less spoken of the incident, the better. She groped for something to distract Dorrin from more questions. Her eyes alight on the prothean. "Dorrin, you have not met Javik, I believe." She gestured to Javik who turned to nod politely.
"You're the last Prothean." Dorrin couldn't keep the awe from his voice and offered his hand. "I'd never thought I'll run into you."
"Indeed. I am the last." Javik looked down at the proffered hand. "I believe that is what humans called a handshake. We do not have such customs."
"Apologies," Dorrin said easily, dropping his hand. "It's an ingrained habit. How did your people greet each other?"
"The ones who would greet were of low standing. Of forms, there were many, depending on the rank and the caste."
"Oh..." Dorrin blinked as he digested that bit of information.
Recognising the devilish light in his eyes, Liara said hurriedly, "What is the situation on Ilos?"
"No casualties." He smiled at her sigh of relief. "Most are understandably grouchy, uncomfortable and famished. Rest and food will see them back on their feet in the next few days."
"What about Dr Olor?"
"The turians were quick to grab and toss him in the brig. Well-," he rubbed his nose with a knuckle, "there're no secured brigs down there so they're going to send him to the Citadel for the hearing on the first ship to leave. That's us. The rest of the salarian contingent are being grilled to see if they're as saucy as Olor."
"Grilling removes the freshness and flavour of salarian liver," Javik said solemnly.
"What?" Dorrin stared at Javik in bemusement. His eyes gleamed but someone cut in before he could launch into the conversation he had in mind.
"Dr T'Soni, Captain." The surgeon commander nodded to them. "I'm Doctor Hyanes." He frowned when Javik stepped closer.
"He is a close friend," Liara said quickly before the doctor sent him away. "How is she?"
"Captain Shepard's vital signs are stabilized for the moment but her cerebrum readings are off the charts."
"Doc, we're duckies here," Dorrin said, earning himself a reproving look from the older man.
"There are abnormal readings in the brain scans similar to sensory overload." Hyanes brought up his datapad. "The readings are nothing I've ever seen before."
"Sensory overload?" Liara repeated, hoping the human could clarify the term further.
"The fore brain mostly," Hyanes muttered. "There is lot of activity in the inner brain, I'd say it's almost like it's in overdrive, centered around the hippocampus..."
"Doc..," Dorrin interrupted, "layman terms, please?"
"Memory," Hyanes corrected reluctantly, missing the quick glance Liara and Javik exchanged. "Mostly to do with the part of the brain that deals with memory. I'm not sure how and why but it's also affecting body functions which is why her heart temporarily stopped from the crux of the sensory overload. Her heart rate and respiration were way off normal when she arrived."
"Perhaps a viral infection?" Dorrin suggested before he snapped his fingers. "Maybe something from the forcefield zapped her." He shrugged when Hyanes stared disapprovingly at him for the facetious suggestions.
Putting down the datapad, Hyanes frowned at Liara. "Dr T'Soni, you were with her on Ilos. Could you describe what happened?"
"I am afraid I have no idea. She was talking to the V.I. and collapsed after bringing down the forcefield."
With a look of disbelief, Hyanes persisted. "Did she touch anything before talking to the V.I.?"
Returning his suspicious gaze without flinching, Liara said evenly, "She touched nothing before and during the entire course of the event."
"So.," began Hyanes but Dorrin cut in. "Can something be done to return her brain to its normal state?"
"That's just it, I'm not sure what I'm dealing with here. I've to reduce her to a near coma to prevent any abnormal triggers in the other cerebral functions." Hyanes consulted his datapad again. "I suggest we get her back to the specialists back home..."
"No," Liara said firmly, "I want to bring her back to Thessia."
"Dr T'Soni..," Hyanes said carefully, "I'm not sure that is a wise course to take, given that Captain Shepard is a human..."
"Dr Hyanes, thank you," Liara cut in politely, "but since I am her spouse, I have the right to decide what is best for her. Is that not correct?" She looked at Dorrin for support and confirmation.
Having taken for granted that Liara would follow the usual course of letting Shepard be seen to by the Alliance, Dorrin was startled at the sudden turn. Did she not trust human doctors? Or did she know what was ailing Shepard? He was inclined towards the latter but he was not sure she was making the right call. The unvoiced plea in her eyes decided him. She was Shepard's spouse. He was aware how much they loved each other. Liara would want the best for Shepard. If she was that certain, he had no reason to doubt her.
"Yes," he said gravely. He nodded imperceptibly to Hyanes's unvoiced query when the medico stared at him in consternation. "I'll contact Alliance Command and see if we couldn't beat off two birds with one stone. Excuse me." He walked out of the medical bay, knowing that Hyanes had much to say. He preferred that their discussion took place elsewhere.
"I'll continue to monitor and notify you if there are any changes." Hyanes excused himself and strolled quickly after Dorrin, leaving Liara and Javik to walk anxiously to the medbed where April was lying. The surgeon lieutenant moved away quietly at their approach.
Standing at the bed brought back a myriad of memories. The time when she rushed to the emergency ward when she received news that her bondmate was found after the battle with the Reapers. The smell of blood, raw flesh and medicines. The cries of pain and voices amidst the flurry of activity among the beds and pallets were all background noises when her entire being was focused on one bed where a heavily bandaged figure had lain. She was in great fear that April would die. Pushing away those memories, Liara reached out to touch her bondmate's pale face. She sought the link they forged and was careful not to delve too deeply.
"Nothing," she whispered, brushing back a stray strand of hair from April's forehead. "When she was recovered from the Citadel Tower, she was seriously injured but even then, I could feel her essence but now..."
Javik hesitated, his hand raised as if to touch April. He let it dropped to his side. "You are right to insist. I do not think the humans will understand her condition."
"I know I am." Taking a deep breath, Liara forced away the fear. No, I must not think in such a way. Someone on Thessia will know what to do. "Will you come to Thessia, Javik?" She did not take her eyes from the pale face, her bondmate's red hair a startling brilliant contrast against the white pillow.
"I will."
Omega Nebula
Sahrabarik System
He was harbouring the notion the Systems Alliance made a mistake about the dreadnought. Garrus made a mental note never to mention that to Shepard. He waited patiently at the holo-tank on the bridge as the Claw made transition through the relay. Within seconds, the display lit up with the chart of the Sahrabarik system and the beacon transponders of several ships. Leaning forward, he read the tags and blinked in astonishment when he saw a green icon designated Ranoch was a geth dreadnought. There was no mention of it in the report. Its presence was a clue as to how the Systems Alliance had scrapped up the elements to disable the Cerberus taskforce.
Geth forces detailed to every Allied homeworld to aid in the removal of Reaper remnants were light weight ships. Capital ships like the dreadnought were mostly based at the Quarian homeworld and the Citadel. To wrangle a geth dreadnought into a taskforce under a foreign flag would take some doing. It definitely had the touch of his old buddy, he'd bet a year's credits on it. The other beacons tagged the presence of a Systems Alliance carrier and a frigate. Service ships were in the system as well. No cruiser. Since the report did not detail the lost of any allied ship, it was probably called away.
Cerberus. He never thought he would hear of them again. He supposed it was inevitable given their appellation. How ever did the Alliance learn about their continual existence and movements was something he would like to know. The humans however did not choose to share what intel they had. Or rather, they did not share it with him, he was certain Victus would have all the details. When he got back to Palaven, he'd want to know how entangled Cerberus operations were with the TI and how it would affect their fight against the thralls stubbornly entrenched on his homeworld.
A swarm of salvage ships flitted to and fro in the debris and wreckage of the battlefield. He watched as the pilot maneuvered the Claw slowly through those ships and brought her close to the disabled turian dreadnought. Since the dreadnought was turian, none of the salvage ships went near it. The pilot chose an approach that gave the best view on the brow. His eyes narrowed at the bold decal. CSV Aurora. The gall of those dogs. There better be loads of information in the computer mainframe that would lead them to the bandit hideout. He was going to make sure they stay down this time.
Having seen enough, he made his way to the docking bay where the squad was waiting. Picking up his helmet and weapons laid ready on the nearby workbench, he ran a check on his equipment before inspecting the troops. Satisfied, he boarded the shuttle with the squad behind him. Rather than sit in the cargo compartment, he went to the cockpit as the shuttle took off. With the frigate parked close to the dreadnought, it was a short hop to the emergency airlock near the bridge. Barely time for him to pick out the structural differences that might tell him the original construction of the vessel but enough for him to see the scale of the damage it took. Returning to the compartment, he ran the squad through one last preboarding check.
With no boarding tube, they opened the hatch and waited for the pilot to align with the airlock before propelling themselves carefully across. The first turian soldier to land hacked the door controls. The hatch snapped aside to reveal a dimly lit airlock. They floated in and closed the outer hatch. There was no environment console. An ominous sign. Garrus signalled for zero gravity maneuvers. The lead scout opened the inner hatch. The corridor was empty.
They went down the passage cautiously. The airlock was two corridors away from the bridge. It should be clean and fast. Get in, break into the computer mainframe, siphon all the data and get out before anything moved on them. But plans had a tendency to twist. The Systems Alliance had conducted a preliminary scan for life signs after the dreadnought was disabled but found nothing. That did not mean there was nothing mechanical lying in wait.
They moved steadily down the passage, taking a left turn at the intersection. He noted the security eye flat on the ceiling at the junction. Was it active? The dreadnought suffered massive damage but there was still reserve power to keep several systems online for quite some time. There was no tell tale light on the lens. That didn't prove anything however. If someone was watching them, they would know soon enough the moment they got closer to the bridge.
As they moved along, something nibbled at him. He realised what it was. "Halt," he said quietly. The squad froze immediately.
Turning about, Garrus examined the passage. According to the schematic, there should be two doors leading to sensor and tactical stations but there were none to be seen. Bringing up his omni-tool, he called up the blueprint of the dreadnought and knew there was trouble when the map affirmed his suspicions. Did Cerberus seal over the doors or did they change the layout in the overhaul? If it was the latter, there was no certainty they were heading towards the bridge. It was a complication they did not need. It set his teeth on edge. There was no cover for them in the corridor should anything come upon them.
"Armed heavies," he said to the soldiers carrying the rocket launchers, "ready to fire on my command."
Out of the corner of his visor, he thought he saw a sort of gleam from the security eye. It was so slight that nobody would have noticed if they weren't keeping an eye on it. Someone or something was definitely watching them. Drawing his pistol, he shot out the eye and ordered the scouts to take out any spy eye that they spotted. As they were about to continue, they heard the faint whine of servos. The lead scout was the first to see alcoves opening in the walls further up the passage and shouted a warning when tall shapes appeared.
"Ogre mechs!"
"Open fire!" Garrus ordered. The rocket troopers had sighted the enemy at the first warning. They let loose instantly. A murderous fusillade exploded in the nearest alcoves. If the mechs fired off one rocket or returned fire in unison their way, they would all be wiped out.
"Charge!" he shouted as green globs and streaks of yellow beams came at them, impacting and exploding against the walls. One of the soldiers was not fast enough to leap out of the way and fell, half his head taken off. Another dropped, hardsuit perforated.
Grenades went flying as they charged, pushing off the floor and jumping onto the walls, the ceiling. Their wild movements created different vectors for the mechs to track. Still, all the mechs had to do was throw a hail of rockets their way and they would be cooked. Garrus hoped they wouldn't. Showers of hot metal chips and floor plating flew as shots missed their targets. By now, they could see there were two more ogres mechs blocking the way. The two that were in front had taken the brunt of the rockets floated in broken parts. Garrus could see they were preparing to send a salvo at them and shouted. The squad threw themselves out of the way when the rocket troopers fired off a quartet of missiles, blasting off the arms of the mechs. A follow up fusillade from rifles took the mechs apart.
Garrus exhorted the squad to move. It didn't matter any more if there was a CIC at their target area. Finding cover was vital. They were not going to get it if they stayed in the passage. The remnants of the mechs scattered as they bounced down the corridor, shooting out any eye that they see. They came to another stop at the next intersection. Using his corner scope, the lead scout reported a group of Ramparts moving towards them.
Risking a look himself, Garrus did a quick count. Six. Point one in his favour. They were bunched up. The bad news was that the ramparts were upgraded Loki mechs. Baring the ogres whose bad side was raw firepower and size, the toughest security robot he would put at the top of the list was the rampart. Tough but not impossible to take down. As long as there weren't as many as he faced with Shepard at Cronos Station. Six was manageable.
He gestured to the squad, noting that two had gone down and several were wounded. Half the squad retreated back down the passage as the scouts carefully planted the mines. Plucking a compound sticky grenade from his belt, he waited until the scout reported that the mechs were a few meters away. Quick as a flash, he leaned around the corner and planted the grenade on the ceiling above the ramparts before hightailing after the rest of the squad back down the corridor. He heard the swift whine of servos when the mechs spotted the movement. The grenade went off as he glided to a stop, coming to a crouch as he readied his rifle.
When the ramparts hoved into view, the mines went off. The squad fired steadily into the scintillating figures. Returned fire was sporadic as the mechs were knocked back and staggered by the hard pressure of the barrage. Heavily damaged, their shotguns exploded, sending fiery residues all around them that burned and ate into their armor plating. When the last mech crumbled, the scout scooted cautiously back to the intersection. With the all clear, they made their way past the jumbled of broken sizzling parts. From there, it was a short distance to the doors of the bridge.
Looking up and down the passage, Garrus waited tensely as one of the soldiers hacked through the door controls. With two of the squad down and most of their heaviest ammunition expended, he wasn't looking forward to another protracted fight. If another group of ramparts appeared, they would have to call it off and retreat to the shuttle. That was not in his book though. No, he was going to get in there and find the answers to his questions, no matter what it took. As if his thoughts had summoned the mechs, one of the scouts warned of movement in one of the off passages. Gritting his teeth, he glared at the hacker. Pointless since the soldier could not see his displeasure. He ordered the scouts to return and take up defensive positions.
Tension increased by the minute as they waited. When the doors suddenly snapped open, it was as if the spirits heard his prayer. The strange sight that met his eyes when he stepped through the doors froze him. It was the bridge and yet it was not. There were no workstations and no corpses. There was no sign of any bridge crew. Instead of the holotank at the centre, there was a chair-like device in the middle of a raised platform, facing away from them. Thick wiring and tubes ran down from the ceiling and flooring to wound around it. A single terminal stood at the edge of the platform.
Where have I seen this before?
"Sir, the mechs are approaching," one of the scouts warned.
"Get in," he ordered. Irregardless of what the room was, it was safer than standing out there. "Seal it and put in the remaining mines."
What was the chair? The squad fanned out as he walked slowly towards it. There was someone sitting in it, he was sure he saw pale limbs and the side of a face. "Spirits," he muttered in horror when he saw clearly what it was when he moved nearer.
A human woman. Her husk blue eyes stared blankly. The System Alliance scan returned no life signs. Was she not alive? He didn't know what to think. He leaned closer and waved his hand before her face and jumped back when she blinked. There was no recognition in those eyes. Looking at the chair, he realized it was more of a holding contraption. All he could see of her was her head, her arms and the lower calves. The rest were hidden under a body-like mold. She was young and gaunt. Her head was shaved and streaks of black were creeping up her neck. Thin strands of it reached past her cheekbones. Did she have something behind her nape? Bending and peering closer, he made out what it was and felt ill. If he was right, there wasn't any need for a bridge crew. Or any crew.
"Can you hear me?" he said softly, not expecting an answer.
One of the engineers who was examining the terminal spoke up. "Sir, I think this links to the main frame."
Taking a deep breath, Garrus nodded. "Hack through and download everything."
The engineer nodded and began to work. As Garrus bent down to look under the chair, a muffled whomp at the doors brought him up again. The mechs had arrived. There was time. The doors were quadruple layered but even they would give way under a steady onslaught. Abandoning the platform, he made a quick survey of the bridge and stifled a curse. Of course there weren't any lifepods. Why would there be when there was no life on the ship? The ruckus at the doors grew thunderous, the din filling the entire bridge.
"How much longer?" he rasped.
"Another few more minutes," the engineer said tightly, eyes pinched in tension.
The rest of the squad waited, weapons at the ready. Garrus considered his options. The sound of screaming metal brought his attention back to the entrance. The doors were buckling. Drawing his pistol, he aimed it at the woman.
"Are the mechs linked to her?"
"Sir?"
"You heard me!"
The engineer tried to come up with an answer but the flow of data was too fast for him to narrow down the information he wanted. A minute ticked by. The doors screeched louder as if they were in pain. The soldiers winced. The screech pitched to a crescendo when it suddenly stopped. The abruptness of it was a shock. The engineer found himself staring at a dead screen.
Garrus lowered the pistol and reached out to close the woman's eyes.
"Sir...the mainframe is dead." The engineer removed the datastick he had jacked into the terminal.
"How much did you manage to get?"
"Perhaps two-thirds."
Putting away his pistol, Garrus nodded. "It'll have to do. Blow the mines."
Thumbing a switch, one of the soldiers set off the mines, blowing open the buckling doors to reveal a packed mass of inert ramparts.
Shaking his head, Garrus said, "Let's clear this mess and haul our ass back to the Claw."
SSV Glasgow
Unhooking April's undersuit from the cleaner, Liara examined it carefully for any signs of damage before folding it carefully and securing it in the duffel bag with the hardsuit. Another swipe of the aseptic cloth over the helmet before it went into another holding bag. Tightening the straps, she brought the bags over to the bed and went around the cabin, making sure she did not leave behind anything. She nearly missed the black coloured pouch beneath a chair cushion.
Smiling, she lifted it. Her fingers hovered over the pouch as she thought over what lain within. April's carving tools. Tools that her bondmate never thought she would handle again after putting it aside the moment she joined the N7 training course. Tools of creation that she thought April had forgotten. It pleased her that her bondmate had once more picked up the hobby she loved.
April tried to hide it from her over the last few months but she knew her bondmate was working on an item. An item for her. Was it completed? Her fingers plucked at the fastening. The temptation was strong but no. She shouldn't. She would leave it to her bondmate to present it to her. She knew she would. She patted the pouch and walked over to the bed to put it safely among April's clothing in the duffel.
The door chimed. She opened it to find a crewman waiting to help her with the bags. After another look around the cabin, she picked up her own and April's personal duffel and followed the crewman to the lift and took it down to the docking bay. Javik was waiting for her, his own duffel slung on his shoulder. Together, they went to the shuttle and saw the SBAs maneuvering April's pallet into the cargo compartment. After securing the pallet and checking April again, Hyanes nodded stiffly to Liara and left.
Liara knew the doctor was not happy with her decision and being overruled but that was none of her concern. He didn't and wouldn't know how to deal with April's condition. He had said so himself. She was certain none of the specialists he harped on knew any better. None of the human doctors had any experience with mind melding. They tend to be hostile to practices in which they themselves perceived as alien. The more close-minded thought of it as ridiculous and impossible even. If she gave April over to them, it was all too likely they would simply leave her to vegetate in their ignorance. April would die.
Someone coughed softly behind her as she secured the duffels in the storage compartment. "Liara?"
She turned to see Dorrin standing near the hatch. She frowned when he beckoned to her and followed him out of the shuttle to stand near the engines. To prevent anyone from overhearing them, she knew. "What is it?" she didn't like the anxious look in his eyes.
"You know Dr Hyanes is not happy with your decision." He looked about them to be sure the medico was not around. "He raised hell and shit with me the other day, wanting to send Shepard to Earth. I got some backing when I spoke to the old man, he agrees with you. But," he hesitated. "We have to inform Shepard's next of kin."
Realization hit her. "Oh."
"Admiral Shepard is..," he sighed. "Look, the old man says you're going to have to talk to her. He hopes the two of you will work together to bring Shepard back."
"Is she coming to Thessia?" Liara wondered what she was going to do to persuade April's mother if she insisted on bringing her daughter back to Earth.
"Yeah, so don't let her browbeat you. You know best. It's going to be fine," he said encouragingly when an unhappy look flashed across her face. "Shepard knows you have her back."
"That I do. Thank you, Dorrin." She hugged him gratefully.
"Get her back on her feet. I hope to see you both soon." He patted her back gently. "Go on, the faster you get down there, the faster you find a way to heal her."
She smiled and waved to him as she stepped back onboard. The hatch closed as she buckled in beside Javik. Looking out the window, she could see Dorrin. He saluted as the shuttle lifted and then he was lost to sight as they departed.
What am I going to say to her?