Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik
Normandy

Leaning back comfortably in her chair, her head braced against the palm of her right hand, Shepard stared unseeingly at the datapad propped on the thigh of her crossed legs. Deep in thought, she wasn't aware that someone had come into the conference room until she felt the disturbance of air. Someone stepped up next to her. A talon hand placed a steaming cup before her.

"Coffee?" Garrus offered. "Your usual black with sugar."

"Thanks," she said, rubbing her neck as she took a mouthful. It tasted slightly bland though the bitterness chased away the lingering coils of fatigue. "You're early. The meeting doesn't start for another hour."

"I'm taking a break-," he gargled down juice from his own cup as he went over to the window, "from butt hurt. I thought of getting some workout by breathing down your gunnery crew on their latest performance."

"If you're going to breathe down their necks, maybe you could file their evaluation reports," she said, amused.

"Now why would I want to saddle myself with more butt hurt?" he returned good-humoredly as he turned to face her, leaning against the window. His eyes sharpened when she rubbed her neck again. "Is there pain? Maybe you ought to rest another day."

"What?" She blinked at him in bemusement before realising what he was referring to when his eyes flicked to her hand at her nape. She felt the smooth skin before removing her hand. "It doesn't hurt at all. I'm just-," she shrugged.

There was no pain or anything. It could be nothing more than psychological discomfort. After isolated for medical scanning, testing and sleeping for the past five days on the Dynius, bed was the last place she wanted to be right now. If Liara were around, she'd probably consider it.

"I've rested enough. Even if I go to bed, there're too many things on my mind for sleep."

"Like how does one deal with an old beau trying to steal from you?" He looked at her speculatively. "Do you believe what he said?"

"About the healing? Miranda said the same thing to me. Karin's like a cat on hot bricks in her emails. Maybe that part is true. As for the rest of what he's implying." She stared into her cup. "I don't know. I'll just have to wait and see what doc has to say when I get back to the Citadel."

"If it's true?"

"I'll have more time with Liara. I get to see my kid take her licks from the universe, grow into what she wants to be. Honestly though," she snorted softly, "I don't believe my lifespan is going to be that extensive as he thinks it will be."

Garrus wondered that she was so quick to dismiss the probability, after having done the impossible; survived death more than once. "You know, if it's fact-," he paused for a moment before saying carefully, "the Alliance isn't going to sit still."

"Hackett has been sitting on it for some time. He has said and done nothing about it." Shepard smiled at Garrus's astonishment. "He knows."

Recovering quickly from his surprise, he said cautiously, "He is aware it's only a premise."

"A premise that even if true, cannot be propagated on any scale at all if that is what he has in mind."

"That doesn't mean there wouldn't be a breakthrough." The treatment would be priceless and Shepard owned the patent to it, so to speak. He straightened at that thought. "That's it, isn't it? They were out to get hold of you, whoever tried to kidnap Liara."

"I'm afraid so. Binery Helix," she revealed.

"Binery Helix?" Garrus stared at her. "They're working with Cerberus? I mean Terra Firma."

"Is it so surprising? How deep it goes, I wouldn't know but perhaps not that deep with Terra Firma. Lance claimed the kidnap attempt was not on his order but that Binery Helix were acting on their own agenda. I don't know how much he shared with them, maybe not a lot but telling them to siphon data from Antarctica Base is a red flag."

"Greed has little room for alliances and competition."

"Um.." She fell silent as she thought about it. Would Lance have trusted them that much to specify what he was looking for? Would he give away an advantage? Recognizing the look on her face, Garrus waited patiently.

"With the mental deterioration of Cerberus personnel," she said, "he may not have the specialists he needs. The only recourse is to engage outside expertise in genetic engineering without telling them exactly what he was aiming for."

Garrus snorted derisively. "He can't point the way and not expect them not to add up the numbers."

"True. When the salarians took control of Noveria and confiscated materials during the war, a number of companies lost quite a chunk of their research and commercial monopoly. Some of them folded or absorbed into conglomerates to survive. Binery Helix managed to hang on somehow. The only way they could bid for the Alliance project is if someone was funding them."

Garrus took another gulp of his juice, noting the omission of the project name but then, it wasn't his business. "I'm surprised the Alliance accepted the bid."

"I don't know what information Hackett has on them but I'm sure he's playing his own hand when he allowed the bid to pass."

A chuckle escaped Garrus. "Even as they conduct their own espionage, he's conducting one of his own. So if he knew the truth behind the kidnap attempt, he couldn't do a thing about it but he could when they hacked into Alliance mainframes."

"That he will and make sure they never try again," she said with certainty. "I'd be interested to know what he uncovered."

"They may come after you again."

"I've a notion or two on how to deal with it." She fingered her neck absentmindedly.

"Still think he got something from you?" He tapped his own neck when she looked at him.

She sighed when she realised what she was doing and removed her hand. "I saw Miona shot the extractor to pieces but considering the enigmatic complexity of the station, it may not be destroyed at all. If he did manage to snare a bio sample, I know he will grow another batch of clones and try again. I hope he does not try to rouse them to awareness."

An impossible premise, Garrus thought. "He may think of trying if he thought the project failed because of that lack," he said regretfully and saw her wince of unhappiness at the thought. "You're not angry," he observed.

"I am angry. I saw the files on those Alliance marines you found. They were people, friends, I lost on Akuze."

Erial's name wasn't in the list which meant she was safely dead, not a lab subject. She was glad. The same couldn't be said for the others. Familiar faces came to mind. She felt anger boiling up. Resolutely, she pushed it away.

"Anger is a poisonous thorn vine. Hold on long enough to it, the wound and the blood is inevitably your own." She put her cup on the table before leaning back in her chair. "There is little I can do at the moment so I don't hang on to it." She rubbed her face to clear her thoughts. "I need not take the mission. The seeding of the probes can be done without me but I had to go because he obviously wanted me there."

"If you didn't, he would have found another way to get to you," he said somberly.

"Better me than Liara and my family. In a way, I owe him an answer." She saw the lack of understanding in his eyes. "When I met him, he and I shared a commonality in our personal burdens. His dissatisfaction, his unhappiness and beliefs isolated him. And I, bounced from place to place through the years as a child, learned not to form any attachment with any one. I wasn't expecting much when I went to Hyperion Base except to prepare myself for Alliance entry I knew I would be applying for in two years."

"That certain were you?" His mandibles gaped in a grin.

"How else could I get to travel the galaxy free of charge?" She raised a brow at him mockingly.

"Touche," he conceded with a grin. "How did the two of you meet?" he asked curiously.

"It was the second week after I settled in. He was pointed out to me. I was given chapter and verse of his character, his deeds as a kind of friendly warning. The populace were chugging along fine with their life, their jobs. Contracts with off world companies were giving people what they needed. They didn't like the trouble he was stirring up. Shenanigans, was how it was put. Base admin were not pleased with him. The only thing stopping them from locking him up was his youth. He had done nothing more than shoot his mouth off in public." She closed her eyes as memory flooded in. "He's among the top in class but most students wouldn't go near him if they needn't have to so he was surprised when I introduced myself to him."

"Curious, weren't you?"

"Very." She smiled wryly. "He was suspicious. No one had ever walked to him and indicated they might be interested to talk, listen to him and be friends. He thought I was sent by the institute faculty to spy on him."

"Paranoid." Garrus nodded sagely. "How did you win his trust?"

"Like this." She put out her hand and wagged her index finger in a beckoning gesture. "Come here fishie." She grinned when he cocked his head skeptically. It reminded her of the inquiring tilt of a bird's head. "I didn't try to push it. I made my intentions clear and went about my business. It's up to him to decide whether he wanted to make further contact which he did, at the canteen."

"Very public," he noted.

"We didn't hit off very well in the beginning. We each have our issues to surmount. Later, he told me of his background. I realised he had valid reasons to dislike, mistrust aliens and why he was so adamant against some of the Systems Alliance's policies. He's passionate, unafraid and staunch in his ambitions. He was idealistic, considerate and generous to the needy who saw him in a different light and more than welcome his presence. I've never met anyone like him. I'll confess I found him fascinating," she said reminiscently before dispelling the dreamy memories. "Even so, we have differing views but our discussions were rational than veering on the radical."

"Did he continue to speak out against the Alliance?"

"After the warning, he wrote dissertations. His parents weren't too happy when the effects of his actions rolled on them. I realised later that it was deliberate. He was biding his time, waiting for them to reject him, waiting for the right moment."

"I assumed he was your first lover." He shrugged when she stared at him. "It's the way you talk about him."

She frowned. "We filled a need in each other. He was-," she paused. "I did not embrace our involvement passionately. I never knew he invested his totality in me. No," she corrected, "that wasn't it. I was aware but I did not want to acknowledge it. You can imagine my shock when he suggested I leave with him. I wasn't ready for such commitment nor did I want to."

"How poorly did he take it?"

"Extremely poor," she said.

An understatement at best. In hindsight, she should have realised the consequences of becoming involved with Lance. After years of bouncing from place to place, the long spells of isolation and rejecting close attachments, Lance's attention and sincerity was like water in a desert. She was drawn into the relationship with no thought about the future, only the present. She only come to realise the ramifications when she saw the emotion in blazing grey eyes at her rejection. It was so naked that she could not hold his gaze. The terrible intensity of him when he laid the core of himself so openly shook her. The incident left a mark she couldn't forget. Guilt dogged her for a long time before it became a small shadowed corner of memory through the passage of years.

"It was very difficult," she sighed. "He was angry at first. When he calmed down, he said he failed me. When he left, he was resolute. I thought he'd hate me but then he said he understood and he told me.."

Garrus waited. "What?" he prodded gently when she remained silent.

Drawing in a deep breath, she looked at him. "He'll wait for me."

Silence fell as they contemplated for a moment. "What was the reply you intended?" he said after a while.

"I never did get to say it." She steepled her fingers. "There's something odd about the man I spoke to."

"Odd?"

"Something in his eyes, his manner. His rhetoric was what I would expect him to say. Yet the only thing I thought of at the time was mountebank." She paused as she tried to explain it. "I can't help but feel as if he's trying to effect the personality we are expecting."

"A soliloquizing zealot?"

"It doesn't really gel from what I know of him."

"Years ago," he reminded. "What do you know of him now?"

"Think about it. From taking out the TI on earth, Santino to those refugees with Conrad, they spoke of careful planning. Yet, the placement of the cryo tanks made no sense."

"Could that not be part of his intentions, to confuse you? Throw you off balance? Make you angry?" suggested Garrus. "Enraged?"

"Enraged?" she echoed in surprise.

"There're plenty of rumours flying around, and still floating by the way, when you dropped out of sight six years ago." Garrus turned his cup slowly in his hands. "Disaffection, illness, persecution because you married Liara and just about everything you can think of. You said Chakwas went head on with the Alliance over those psych evaluations through those years. It's hard to keep something like that quiet. Rumors, reports, medical files, everything indicated that you were removed due to psychological problems. He might be thinking they were true. Incited into unbalanced passion, you would see the validity of his arguments, his objectives."

He changed tack and held out his arms as if he was giving a grand speech. "The Systems Alliance, the Council, the entire galactic community treated you like dirt. Time to ditch them and join-," he clapped his chest, leaned forward and gave her an inviting look, "me."

She chuckled. "Very concise. He could use you to proofread and edit his histrionic oratory."

"Really?" He blinked at her. "I can see why you described him as a mountebank if he babbled more than that. I take it he wasn't like that when you met him."

"No. He was earnest, sincere, quiet in his approach."

"Interesting." He settled in a chair. "So either he isn't Greenacres or he is who we think he is but his brains were scrambled like Saracino."

"He could be a clone and the real person is playing games I don't want to guess at." She rubbed her throbbing temple wearily with her fingers. "Damn it. I get a headache just thinking about it." Not what she needed it when there was a meeting in thirty minutes.

Garrus looked at her worriedly. The aggrieved air about her was heavy, almost one of pain. It reminded him of the times he saw her like this, struggling to come up with answers to problems that seemed insurmountable. She had stoically carried her burdens and it cost her. He was pleased that she recovered from the wounds of the war, shared her past with this Greenacres but she should not let this man stressed her too much. Distraction, that was what she needed. But what?

"What're you doing?" asked Shepard when he moved behind her and felt his hands come down on her shoulders.

"Something I came across accidentally," he said as he thumped and pressed gently along her shoulders and felt the tension. "Relax."

She loosened up slightly when there were no sharp prickling. He couldn't be using his fingers, was he? "You know those sharp little things at the end of your fingers are called talons, right?"

"Quiet," he ordered as he kneaded. "Alternatively, if you're that worried, I can do your feet." He stopped and turned her chair so she was facing him and looked down at her feet.

"What? Garrus!" she protested with wide eyes when he bent down, grabbed her foot and raised it. "What's gotten into you?"

"Just something-," he broke off when the door of the conference room opened. Shepard tried to tug her foot back before whoever was stepping in could see them but he was holding on too firmly to her ankle.

Miranda stared. "You guys want to hang a DND sign outside?"

"Where's the subtlety in that?" Garrus grinned, dropping Shepard's foot. "How's the headache?" he inquired solicitously.

"If that's your idea of headache remedy, I can do without it," Shepard returned sternly though her mouth twitched.

He sat back down in his chair. "There was this conversation in a bar back in the old days. That was when I had no idea how humans tick." He ignored the smirk Miranda sent him. "The woman was complaining of headaches and a hundred ailments that should have floored her but no, somehow she was having it out with her boyfriend. Going at it like hammer and tongs," he flexed his talons, "is what you humans say. I thought of stepping in when they looked like they were really going to rip each other out when they suddenly stopped and made up. Strangest thing I ever saw. She left with him, apparently cured."

"There never was a headache," said Miranda as she sat across the table from Shepard.

Garrus shrugged and grinned at Shepard. "The distraction worked, didn't it?"

In that, he was right, Shepard realised. The ache had lessened. She worked her neck and shoulders to loosen the muscles locked in tension.

Tapping on her omni-tool, Miranda transferred files to the holo-dislay in the center of the table. "I couldn't find you in the loft so I came looking."

Something was pressing into Shepard's thigh underneath. She looked down to see it was the datapad that had slipped below her leg. Placing it on the table, she drew herself up and looked at Miranda. "What do you have?"

The holo display sprang to life. Gesturing at the Omega Four Relay, Miranda said, "As expected, the IFF is no longer usable. The probe we attempted to send through a few days ago did not translate."

Shepard nodded. "What about the anomalous readings picked up on the other side?"

"Both EDI and the geth confirmed an excessive energy build up within the station and the relay but since nothing happened-," Miranda shrugged. "We think it was a ploy to get us to leave."

Shepard exchanged a glance with Garrus, who plainly agreed with the assessment. "What else?"

"When we left, the surveillance probes within the translation zones are in position." The display changed to a distant visual of the galactic core. Numerous icons blinked. Miranda highlighted the area around the mass relay and at the galactic core. "A total of a hundred of them affixed to wreckage and on the hull of the station. The rest are scattered within a mile of the transit expanse. The recon probes designated the Wanderers are confirmed on their trajectory."

"Is there any active feed from in-station probes?" asked Garrus.

"We're not getting a signal but it could be due to the jamming field. We can attempt to link." Miranda looked inquiringly at Shepard.

"No." Shepard shook her head. "If nothing translates from the relay today, we'll follow the schedule. The surveillance team will monitor the relay for two weeks before attempting to make contact. Hopefully, the probes have successfully carried out their mission parameters. If they fail, we'll just have go back to the drawing board."

"If nothing comes through the relay, do we take it as a sign that he's not going anywhere?" Garrus suggested though he knew it's unlikely.

"Years ago it was assumed nothing can exist at the galactic core. We know how that turn out," said Miranda. "There's too much we don't know about the region and how the station works."

"We assume nothing and simply wait for developments," said Shepard. "Let's move on to the station data. Did the geth find anything useful in the Avernus files?"

"I never thought Maxtine and Pisor would locate the central core but they did. They managed to pull a substantial chunk. 30 percent of the files are catalogues of contemporary armaments, military and civilian transports. We also found a list of the fleets they have. Some of these ships are confirmed to be those that were secretly purloined from various scrapyards over the last twenty years. Unfortunately, most of them are not part of the Cerberus fleet that was destroyed at Asteria."

"They're going to turn up like a sore toothache," Garrus predicted.

"Maybe. If the list is valid, it will be useful," said Shepard. "What else?"

"There're drafts of armaments, ship armor and designs like this one." Miranda changed the holo display to that of a ship that echoed the predatory lines of the Normandy.

Garrus leaned in, studying it with great interest. "It's bigger than a frigate, smaller than a cruiser." He noted the scale and the armaments. "Looks like a hybrid. It packs a punch too," he added, impressed with the multi-strata gunports and turrets.

"More in line of a destroyer type," Shepard observed. "This class is non-existent in current navies with the exception of the rachni."

"So tell me again," said Garrus as he stretched lazily back in his chair. "Who decided that council navies should only go for diametrically class ships?"

"Politics dictated the terms of CCMT (Citadel Convention Military Treaties)," Miranda supplied helpfully, knowing he was being farcical. "No one foresaw any use for hybrids."

"Or undue influence to remain technologically torpid," Shepard pointed out. "Despite the numerous conflicts that erupted over the last few hundred years, technological expansion was largely apathetic and passive. We know who were responsible." Both Miranda and Garrus nodded. "Citadel Council will have to consider amending military treaties if they want to move forward."

"If?" Garrus snorted. "Victus is not the only one chaffing at the shackles. You can be sure he'll be in the forefront of the pack, clamouring for the amendment."

"Nothing like a pigeon among the cats," quipped Miranda.

"Trouble," Shepard explained when Garrus looked puzzled. "Copies of the Avernus files will be forwarded to all respective governments. I don't think we should depend on attending representatives to be conscientious in their duties."

"You mean one certain representative," Miranda corrected. "It's fortunate Nehra's too wary to mar his suit," she added with mock seriousness. The quarian's suit and those of his party were surprisingly clean of any foreign items when they were scanned.

"Which reminds me, did Wrex get back to you?" asked Garrus.

"He did." Shepard grimaced at the bitter cold coffee when she took a sip from her cup. "He said good riddance," she imitated Wrex's growl as best she could.

"I guess the official krogan response is luck of the draw," said Miranda.

"Thank heavens for small favors." Shepard waved a hand at Garrus when he did his bird look at her. "We're fortunate we only lost the krogans. They wouldn't be if they followed orders."

"At least there won't be a ruckus over it." Garrus shrugged.

Shepard shook her head, wishing it was different. Dropping the subject, she moved on to another issue. "The one thing we'll be touching lightly on are the medical files which is exclusive to the Systems Alliance."

"I can't see any objections since the subjects are human," said Garrus.

"It does render the purging of your files rather pointless." Miranda reminded.

Garrus opened his mouth and shut it when he realised what she was talking about.

"Is it?" said Shepard. "Nothing in the files of the clones and the Alliance soldiers indicated exactly what he was looking for. If any researchers were to look through them, wouldn't they conclude the projects were attempts to find a way to increase offensive and defensive resilience, the super soldier trope?"

"Do you want to lose the files on the clones?" Miranda asked in a low voice.

Shepard considered for a moment, weighing her options. "It's not possible to keep a black out on the clones so how about editing copies but retained the originals for Karin?"

Miranda nodded. "Done."

"One thing they will insist on is a complete schematic of the station," said Garrus, steering the discussion to another topic. "Particularly the biosensor security grid and the strange conduits."

"Which they will have to wait for," said Miranda. "My team didn't exactly have the time to map everything. Details will have to come from the bugs we left behind."

"But you did pull something else from the central core." Shepard pushed the cup of coffee away, disinclined to finish it.

"And unable to decipher it." Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear impatiently, Miranda pulled up the files the geth managed to download before the pull out. "We tried everything. I think EDI exploded her memory banks from scouring every network she can find."

"It is impossible to explode my memory banks, Miss Lawson," EDI's voice issued from the speakers in the room, "I only have to-."

"All right." Miranda put up her hands, indicating it was a discussion she had gone over before and didn't want to pick up. "We're going to have to call in linguistic and archaeological specialists."

"Admiral Langdon ought to have a few names..."

"Excuse me, Shepard," EDI interrupted. "The meeting is due in fifteen minutes. I believe you requested refreshments."

The door of the conference room swished open. A group of marines came in bearing trays of food and drink which they placed on the table. They saluted Shepard, murmuring "sir", one of them removed her unfinished cup of coffee and Garrus's empty cup before they left at her nod.

"I don't know about you but I'm ready for a break." Shepard eyed the pile of sandwiches on the nearest tray hungrily, lunch was a dim memory, and selected one.

"No argument here." Miranda reached for a small pastry as Garrus got up to inspect the other tray. "Let's eat."

Citadel, Three Weeks later

The ward arms of the Citadel were partially lit when the Normandy docked, looking like a yawning abyss ready to swallow any unwary ship. Hoisting her duffel over her shoulder, Shepard looked at the repair docks as she walked to the arrival lounge, identifying the ships undergoing repairs. Familiar contours and colours sparkled under the spotlights, nothing untoward sprang out at her. The C-Sec officers at the entry gate gave her and Hiaras the visual once over. They did a double take when they saw Miona. Dressed in a flashy brilliant tasselled outfit of crimson reds and gold, dark glasses perched on her nose, she haughtily strolled past them without a look. The security scanners remained quiescent.

The officers recovered to throw Shepard a hasty salute when they realised who she was. Returning the salute, she kept her face impassive though she was laughing within. She passed a empty arrival lounge as she followed the two asari to one of the skycars parked nearby. Traffic was light, buildings and streets were dark and silent. More weeks to go before any of the wards took on the hubbub of life again.

As they approached the ward allocated to the asari, there were more lights and activities; the hum of a vibrant community. The skycar stopped at the top level carpark of Tiberius Tower. They took a lift down. Shepard handed her duffel to Hiaras before stepping off alone at the eighth level and made her way to the private medical ward.

Miona tried not to display her nervousness as she followed Hiaras out on the third floor, ignoring the glances from the occasional asari they passed by. It was with some relief when she stepped into Shepard's apartment, only to have her apprehension returned when conversation among the groups of asari in the large sitting area and kitchen ceased. Every eye was fixed on her.

Hiaras's arm went around her shoulder, comforting and sheltering. As she was led upstairs, she felt the weight of those eyes trained on them. There was no one on the upper floor. She took in the small sitting area, the coffee table, the couches and the art gallery overlooking the ground floor. She saw a closed door and presumed it led to a bedroom. A touch on her shoulder. Hiaras beckoned when she had the young asari's attention and led her through the nearest door.

"You'll sleep here," she said, putting down their duffel on one of the beds in the bedroom.

It was empty except for a lone asari in the corner, propped on a pillow while she worked on a portable console. The asari looked over at them, put aside the console and approached them.

"Hiaras," she greeted, exchanging the customary light touches. "Everything went off well," she said, more a statement than a question. "Shepard?"

"With her mother." Hiaras turned to Miona. "Shiala T'Sule, may I present Miona T'Riest."

Shiala took in the garish outfit and the dark glasses that Miona removed anxiously and defiantly, meeting her gaze with eyes that glowed eerily. The sight of them chilled Shiala for she saw similar eyes too often in the Reaper War. There was a glimmer in them however. Fear, she realised.

She smiled and held out her hands, palms opened. "I greet thee, Miona T'Riest."

Miona hesitated before placing her own hands on Shiala's, feeling a tingle running through their hands. "I greet thee and am honoured to meet you, Shiala T'Sule."

Shepard found Hannah's room easily. No one was around so she sat quietly by the bed, studying her mother's face curiously. It was a face she often saw on a screen than in the flesh. The rare occasions when she would actually see Hannah herself were fleeting and accompanied by a whirlwind of words, orders and action. Never had she seen her mother in repose. She didn't know what she ought to be feeling. She reached out tentatively to touch Hannah's hand, wondering if it was right to do so and almost snatched it back when Hannah roused and opened her eyes.

Shepard got up and leaned closer. "Mom?"

Blinking her eyes, Hannah frowned. "April?"

"I'm here-," Shepard gently squeezed the hand she was holding, "how're you feeling?"

Hannah only blinked her eyes. Shepard wondered if she was having trouble with her vision. "April, my sweet child," she said before her eyes closed again and fell back into sleep.

My sweet child? Shepard stared at Hannah, perplexed to hear the endearment. Someone called softly. She turned to see Chakwas. "What's wrong with her?

"There will be some confusion but that is expected after her coma. All she needs is time to recover."

"I see." Shepard looked down at Hannah before tucking her mother's hand under the blanket. Stepping away from the bed, she drew the older woman aside. "What about her vision?"

"There is nothing wrong with her vision. At the moment, her brain is recovering from trauma so some faculties will suffer some slight impairment," Chakwas said. "Another few more days, she'll be her normal self."

Shepard was relieved. "That's good to hear."

"I know you just got back, why don't you get some rest?" said Chakwas. "We also need to talk so why don't we meet sometime in the morning?"

Shepard nodded. "I'll give you a call."

She glanced at Hannah again before leaving the medical ward with a lighter heart. She took the lift down to the third floor and made her way to her apartment, wondering if Miona was settling in. It was strange to see gaggles of asari in her home. It was as if an invasion was taking over. Stranger still to receive greetings as she climbed the stairs to the upper floor, to smell the aroma of food floating from the kitchen and hear the murmur of soft conversation from those seated in the sitting area below.

The door of the master bedroom was closed but the door of the second bedroom was opened. Hearing soft voices, she peeked in and saw Hiaras sleeping in one of the beds. In the far corner, Miona appeared to be in deep conversation with Shiala. No problems there.

Pleased, she turned to the master bedroom and opened the door to a dark room, lit by a small nightlight in a corner. She stopped when her foot struck something and looked down to see her duffel Hiaras had deposited earlier. Pushing it out of the way, she stepped in and closed the door behind her. Her eyes adjusted to the dark. She easily spotted the lump on the bed. Unsealing her boots, she took them off and removed her socks before walking over to the small cot next to the bed.

The baby was sleeping on her side, little chubby fists curled under her chin. Not daring to disturb her, Shepard stood there for several minutes gazing down with a smile on her face. She would have continued to stand there if Liara did not stir to wakefulness, disturbed by a presence she could sense. When she realised there was someone in the room, near the baby, she had a momentary fright until she reached out mentally.

"Goddess, Shepard!" Flinging the blankets aside, Liara sprang out of bed and reached for her, holding on tightly. "You came back," she said, almost sobbing.

"Are you all right?" asked Shepard, taken aback by Liara's overwrought reaction and the tremors in her body.

She felt Liara's reaching mind and met it readily as their foreheads touched. "You shouldn't have worried so," she said after a while when the tumult in Liara subsided and her fierce claw-like grasp relaxed. She saw in her bondmate's mind what it was that made her so anxious.

"How can I not when you face a most unusual situation."

Liara closed her eyes, letting her senses taste, almost hungrily, the warmth and timbre of Shepard's presence. The feeling was reciprocated. She basked in it eagerly, fingers running over Shepard's back before tapering lightly along her neck and shoulders. The fabric of the uniform was smooth and the diamond-shaped collar tabs cool under her fingertips.

Running a soothing hand down Liara's silky naked back, Shepard felt she had come home as she held her closer.

You know as long as there is breath in me, I'll always come back.

I will look for you if you do not.

I never doubted that.

It was a conviction that need not be said but they said it anyway for it was a renewal of an avowal to each other. If anything, it removed the last shreds of fear from Liara. They stood in peaceful silent rapport until Liara began to pluck at the seals of the uniform tunic, her intentions clear to her bondmate. A tender searching kiss that became demanding and a silent descend into desire.