Chapter 30: War of Hearts
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
T'Soni's accusation was icy, but it burned before Shepard felt any fire. She was exhausted just from it alone, though kept her posture stern as she clasped her wrists behind her aching back - and somehow still managed to keep in stride with the asari who would sooner obliterate her out of existence than be in her presence. Rather than be factual, professional, however... A bitter venom surfaced and barbed her tongue.
"Yes, I forgot to mention I have telepathic powers." Shepard sardonically grumbled, fully aware of the searing look on her now. "I told Benezia not to tell you anything. That's it, exactly."
"This is not as charming as you think it is."
"You asked a ridiculous question, it warranted such an answer."
T'Soni may as well have screeched to a stop, and every part of the soldier nearly lurched to protect from such a reckless move. This rash asari was still forgetting she had a very real injury and a very real possibility to land herself back in surgery!
"Is that why you hid her away from me? Was it so ridiculous to you to allow me to try and help?"
"You saw for yourself in there what she's like. Do you still believe you can get her to talk?"
"Rather than answer my question, you still prioritize information." T'Soni chuckled bitterly with a shake of her head, picking up her pace as she marched to whoever-knew-where.
Against better judgment, Shepard snatched the archaeologist's wrist with her synthetic hand and re-directed them, ignoring the growls to let go as she dragged them to her quarters. She would not allow this be at the mercy of eavesdropping marines and subject to childish gossip. She'd abused her synthetic nature, anticipating the reckless use of biotics to try and ward her off, and ignored her own pains of her injuries as she pressed on. As soon as they were in the privacy of her quarters, she had used her body to block the door and gave a light shove towards her table.
"I'm answering it in a way that provokes meaningful reflection," Shepard answered evenly, but she didn't feel even at all inside. She felt as though the ground itself was fractured, that she was going to trip and fall every step she took. Her temper was fraying and she loathed this lack of control, but her mantras couldn't empty her quickly enough, and soon enough that barbed tongue came out to taste blood. "You've played those games with me all this time, and that was fine. So, what, we must provoke introspection for me, but not for you? Are you going to utilize these moments just to get back at me? Make me hurt? How mature."
That did something terrifying to T'Soni's complexion - and the soldier was kind of regretting her poor choice of words now.
Tongue sheathed, Shepard's gaze fell to the ground and she sighed, massaging her forehead when a headache begun to come on. "Sorry, you... You didn't deserve that. I do understand why you're upset, it's just..." She reluctantly lifted her head, soon finding herself in a head-on collision with a bomb furiously ticking away before it'd explode. The soldier studied, thought things through for once, and reluctantly conceded.
"If your goal is to hurt me back, Dr. T'Soni, then there are more effective ways. If you wish me to suffer to make it even for the suffering that I've inflicted on you, then you need only put me to sleep without inhibiting my dreams."
Something inside shook. An old phantom stirred, beady green eyes glowing in the darkness between the bars of the cage. It's grin a snarl. It struck an unsettling fear inside of her as she gestured to her bed, before her body slumped against the door in protest, bursting pain to life from the expansive injury that swallowed her skin.
She couldn't read T'Soni's expression anymore, but those eyes...
"You can't see a way out, can you?" Shepard inquired softly. "You've already lost your heart inside this war." She frowned, a disturbing revelation that perhaps struck a cord a little too close and personal for her than she thought. "Is your anger sated when you burn me?" She forced herself to push off from the door and walked towards her bed. "We can find out now."
"This does not make what you did right," T'Soni murmured vehemently, but that sting has dulled in her tone. "I... Am angry, yes, rightfully so."
"I did not mean to imply it wasn't justified, what you're doing." Shepard leaned and rested her synthetic hand on her pillow, trying to work up the courage to lay down. "I do not expect anything, if you think I have ulterior motives. I'm... Having trouble accepting the terms, what it means, but I understand them. I respect your decision. I've no intention of changing your mind - but I do admit that I would relish the opportunity to make it right, by whatever means you need."
It's just like any action she's ever had to cope with, after pulling the trigger. It's all a part of being a soldier.
"I'm tired of being one."
Duty ignited to life, scolding her for such a selfish thought. She bit back her sigh and turned to sit on the bed, having lost the bravery to look the asari in the eyes again.
"I accept the consequences, Dr. T'Soni. I will not judge what you do, but... I'm coming to realize now, a truth that I think you were attempting to help me see before, and I apologize it's taken me so long to see it." She reluctantly rose her head. "That vendetta burning inside will never be sated if it keeps being fed, because anger isn't just an emotion. It's chemical warfare on the soul itself - it's a slow death by poison. But I've had my chances to feed that fire, and I've taken every single one of them. I've no right to say you should not." She kicked up her feet and fought past the grimaces and aches of muscles locking down in tense anticipation for what she was condemning herself to.
All she did was take off her belt, then disengaged neural input before she removed her synthetic arm. She set it down on the ground and took a deep breath as she steeled herself, taking the belt in her hand as she rose her arm up to the bed post.
"I advise you tie me down so as to mitigate the risks, or be ready to subdue me with your biotics."
T'Soni sucked in a sharp breath. Her footsteps - once something that made a strangely springy feeling in the soldier's chest - were now an ominous omen that made Shepard's mind fight a war against itself to ignore the dreadful memories of the fear that pulsed through her the way it once did, when she was a child. The world beyond closed eyelids had fallen even darker, a shadow looming over her. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes when she'd heard a chair brought over. She rolled her tongue back and tried not to bite it when the belt was taken and soon wrapped around her wrist.
This was really happening.
Regret was at an all time high, now, but Shepard meant every word about wanting to make it right. She'd see this through. She tried not to fall into mantras, tried not to find a rhythm with her breaths to calm herself.
"I deserve every ounce of pain that I've inflicted on her."
She waited, and waited, and waited and by god that was just as terrifying and painful as the notion of what was about to happen. She tried not to lash out for T'Soni to hurry up already.
"Get this done and over with."
Sweat mapped her forehead. That disgusting feeling of a bead trailing down, gliding over her ear canal and disappearing in her hair, repulsed her. Her curiosity overpowered her when the asari took in a long and deep breath, wondering if this waiting was part of the torture and pain and if that was the case?
"She's perhaps the only torturer that will get close to breaking me."
But those eyes. That face. Everything was unreadable now. There was anger, yes. But... There was something else she couldn't attribute a label to.
"You are an enigma," T'Soni whispered. "You bewilder me, confuse me, anger me, and recently have made me question who I am, what my limits are. I'm still upset with you, Commander. But... I cannot do this. I will not do this, no matter how tempting, no matter how much I want you to feel what you have made me feel." She took the synthetic arm into her lap. "I do have to thank you for helping me realize that - for showing me that I was losing myself. There once was a person at the university who warned me not to lose sight of myself the way you have, and obliviously, I was falling into that trap." She gingerly set the cybernetic arm on the bed, but it didn't last long until it was back in her lap. "It's not me to inflict pain and suffering. I think what hurt me most, in all of this, was that I projected my hopes and ideals onto you, and was horrified to see reality shattering them. I thought it was not you to inflict pain and suffering, despite acknowledging that it would not be above you to go so far as to torture."
Something else gnarled around Shepard's stomach, something more dreadful than what she was about to go through - or still go through, depending wherever this path and thinking took Dr. T'Soni. She found it hard to listen, or perhaps, grasp the true weight behind the words, and any time those eyes landed on hers, her gaze fleeted off to the walls or ceiling.
What was this feeling? It was far worse than her anger, and the soldier was so sure that T'Soni was most nightmarish at the peak of her wrath.
"And that's just it, isn't it? All this time, I've been blind to your cruel ways, excused them. Justified them. Helen's warning makes so much more sense to me, now - if I had rushed into that compound with the batarians, what would I see that was safe from the views of cameras?" T'Soni's brow knit together in conflict, her eyes watery as she fidgeted with the fingers in her lap. "I was foolish and naive to have this romantic ideal of you. You've been so sweet and attentive to me, and yet so brutal to others. You've been right all along: you're a soldier, and this is a soldier's life. There's no place in it for a civilian like me, and yet I fell right into your trap."
"I didn't-" Shepard croaked, rushing to lick her dry lips and swallow to rid this lump suddenly lodged in her throat. "It was not my intention to trap you, Dr. T'Soni."
This feeling, what was it? She needed a label, needed to understand so that she could figure out how to not feel it because by god was this the worst thing.
Whatever it was, it was eating her alive.
Despair gripped her by the throat, and it made her question everything she's learned during her tenure of being... Being what? All of this started as her needing to assess and see whether or not Dr. T'Soni was a security risk, and it's somehow snowballed into this along the way. She was taught something incredibly vital, something she'd lost sight of, something she'd continuously denied - and was continuously challenged by this tortured soul lamenting just tragic inches away from her. She wanted to reach out, but the belt on her wrist reminded her that she was tethered and condemned to helplessly listen to this and be robbed of...
Of what? It was not like a touch would make this alright, nor all right.
This feeling, it was drilling a hole into her. She hated it. She wanted to scream - not at T'Soni, but... It burned in her lungs, crushed her chest, made it nigh impossible to breathe. She tried, god help her, she tried even though she knew she was tied. She wormed her way up into sitting as much as she could, however awkward. Her tongue braced and prepared to start with L, but she'd lost that right, had worked to accept these terms between them, to respect the boundary and space, to cut off this personal link.
"I need to cut this off because I'm always going to end up hurting her like this."
But there was yet another insufferable feeling, the one she'd been denying for so long. She sucked in a small breath and forced herself to watch as T'Soni struggled not to break down in tears, her gaze on the arm in her lap, her fingers gingerly mapping the synthetic knuckles.
"I apologize for starting this war inside of you," Shepard murmured tenderly. "I... I don't think it's any consolation, but... There's a war in me too. It was started in the... The start?" She grimaced at her poor choice of words, but english wasn't exactly coming to her right now. She groped desperately for intellect, for the words to express what was inside of her, and bumbled along as best as she could. "For the longest time, I wasn't an optimist, you saw that for yourself at the start. Over time, you've helped me... Become one. I know I've been difficult, and have made things difficult, contributing to this war of yours. But..."
There was something stoked inside of her upon observing how the tip of T'Soni's finger pressed against the tip of one of the synthetic fingers. Without thinking, Shepard reached to claim it herself, only to be bitterly reminded by this cursed belt.
"This is positively the worst torture I've ever endured. Even worse than her cooking."
Something about that thought threatened to make her chuckle, though she suffocated it for realization it was not the time - and that realization snowballed into more realizations. She could pick up on these things now. Not always, but... But she could sometimes.
"You're suffering now because you had hope," Shepard continued, the words brooking another realization itself... And finally giving her a label for that feeling that was far worse than anger.
Disappointment.
"I... Don't quite yet know what you had hoped for in me, because..." It escaped her, the thoughts, the words, trying to solve this new mysterious puzzle that's been thrust on her lap. "I don't know what other path to take. You've been teaching me a lot, but I still don't understand a lot too. I don't understand you, don't understand how you can be so forgiving or compassionate. But now, thinking on it, reflecting on it and hearing it all out loud, I think that's played a large reason as to why I'm drawn to you. I want to understand it. I want to be it. I want to learn that path."
Silence, apart from the shuddering shallow breaths the asari took. It put Shepard on the edge and she was somewhat hoping for some kind of response by this point - but slowly, surely, she was beginning to recognize when T'Soni was in the state to just listen and absorb information, perhaps to process and shed wisdom at a later time.
Hopefully.
...Hopefully.
"I'm sorry I've failed you," Shepard whispered in earnest. "I'm sorry I crossed the line, that I had not given you the honesty and trust you rightfully deserved, and worked so hard to encourage with me. I'm sorry that I had not trusted you. I'm sorry that I succumbed to that... That horrible part inside of me, and hurt your mother - and in doing so, spat on all the lessons you've been so patient and kind in teaching me. I'm sorry that I strayed from the path that you've been investing all of you and your heart and time in guiding me on. I wish, more than anything right now, that there was a way I could take this pain away from you."
For a fraction of a second, her heart thundered against her ribcage, or so it felt with the way her chest squeezed abnormally tight. She couldn't pinpoint an immediate cause why though.
"Over the course of this short time we've spent together... Liara... I've learned that I would endure absolutely anything for you. Even if you thrust a behemoth in my arms right now."
There was the tiniest hitch at the corner of the lips, a shuddering and frail chuckle that skipped out before it was silenced viciously. T'Soni's eyes lifted for a moment, the wordless deadpan question compelling a smile from Shepard.
"Really really." She cast a glare over at the belt wrapped around her wrist now, then a pleading look at the asari. "Can you please untie me?"
"No." The hitch grew a more obvious inch. "Suffer."
Shepard groaned. "You've known all this time what I want to do."
"Yes. And you are not allowed."
Fair enough. The soldier bowed her head in a wince. So she was being tortured, and quite effectively at that. An even better way than she had suggested earlier.
"I'm not expecting forgiveness," Shepard continued, falling more at ease with how these words were finally just tumbling out on their own, so long as she just gave her heart to speak over her mind. "I know I have no right to, but... But I hope for your sake, you will someday - not for me, but for yourself, so that you don't hurt anymore. I don't know when it could happen, I don't know how I can help make it happen, or if I have that right to anymore, but I will always hope for you... And as a certain intellectual individual taught me, once: there's always hope in the darkest hour."
There was that look, that listening and absorbing look, and it seemed to meld seamlessly into one provoking reflection. T'Soni's eyes fluttered shut, her fingers still absentmindedly roving back and forth the back of the synthetic hand. She sucked in a slow and deep breath, where it shuddered even more on the exhale. Her words quivered no matter how hard she tried to remain stern and strong.
"I wish you would have talked like this before rather than it taking all of that in order for you to talk like this. I am... I need time. I am still upset, and I still do not trust you, but..."
"I'm not asking you to do anything for me, Dr. T'Soni. I fully respect whatever you feel you need to do, the space you desire of us. If I never prove worthy of trust again, I do not fault you. I ask nothing of you - but should you ask anything of me, I readily promise I will do my best to deliver to my fullest capabilities in order to make it up to you. This... I'm sorry that I've taken this long, that it has taken all of this, for me to finally learn the importance and the good that comes from talking. It's a learning curve for me, and I apologize I've not been quick on the take for it. As you know, I talk through other means, typically action - unfavourable action recently." She cleared her throat, an awkward feeling brewing inside of her as she wondered how to conclude all of this. She settled back in comfortable ways, a more formal zone, professional and clean and respectful. "Moving forward, my new mission and objective-"
"No," T'Soni interjected. Her head remained bowed, but her eyes lifted a touch. They were puffy and weary but somehow still danced subtly, a faded hope clawing back to the surface. "Try again."
Shepard's lips thinned in a slight frown. "I don't know how."
"This isn't a mission," the asari sighed. "No... Soldiering... Or whatever that is. Be a human, Commander."
A beat. A blink.
"Yes, that exactly: I don't know how."
T'Soni groaned. She rested the synthetic arm on the bed and leaned over to begin untying the belt. Shepard tried not to look, for her gaze was quite proximal with a more intimate piece of anatomy. She emptied the other thoughts that surfaced in her mind - primarily the curiosities and over-protective tendencies of a wound that was just as close to that intimate piece of anatomy.
What was just as bad as all those other feelings that were the absolute worst, was that though she respected T'Soni's finality between them, though she knew she'd need time to accept these terms... She still had hope. She still had desires. She tabled them upon observing the exhaustion that seeped into every part of the asari's posture, the conflict that Liara was thrust in now. She was still upset, but now the soldier had pitched a new war where anger was to battle compassion. Shepard frowned at that thought.
"Dr. T'Soni... I'm sorry for making you fight with your nature."
"It's fine," T'Soni blew coolly, but it wasn't convincing in the slightest. She rigidly walked over to the terminal at the desk. "Back to the matter at hand, we must brainstorm what to do with mother. We're running out of time and we have no other leads on Saren."
That frown grew. The soldier wasn't entirely thrilled about her own demeanour and tactics surfacing in another. She re-attached her synthetic arm, adjusted and tested the neural input, stalling the dreaded inevitable as she practically played with her arm. But she could only stall so long, for a process that she'd trained herself extensively into manoeuvring and completing in seconds. She hesitantly rose from the table and approached, but maintained the invisible distance in which her gut would scream at her 'that is far enough'.
"I would understand if you need to take a break and time to... Consolidate all of this information."
"I will be fine, Commander."
With how drained and emotionless that tone was, Shepard begged to differ.
"Is this what talking to me has been like?"
But she knew there was no changing Liara's mind - perhaps it would help ease her if they were to finally get this information, and then... Then what? She still didn't know how her mother was indoctrinated, how there was no coming back from it. Shiala only could because she had some other fucked up creature to claim her with their own brand of indoctrination, up until Shepard eradicated that creature. It wasn't like they could go back to the bottom of Feros, revive it, and stick Benezia in some gooey pod to be cloned and manipulated.
"At least now we know what's going on, and why Dr. Chakwas is limited in her technology and knowledge. The only way to properly study this is if we had other scientists on board, if the Council sanctioned research efforts and actually believed a fucking thing I provide them. What evidence can I provide of indoctrination, though? They'll wave it off and say Benezia's character has changed, or some other crap. I need hard scientific proof that they cannot deny."
The more Shepard thought, the more she realized she was just standing uselessly in front of the asari that observed her, seemingly expecting something from her. She bent her head to the side to stretch her neck and shoulder, suddenly aware of how stiff her muscles and joints were.
She was just as aware that she was stalling again.
With a sigh, she conceded. "Dr. T'Soni... You may benefit from reading my report about what transpired during one of my missions at a colony on Feros. There's valuable information pertaining to your mother's diagnosis as to why she's... The way she is."
"What information?" Liara's eyes narrowed slightly. "I want to hear it from you."
Yeah, that was exactly what Shepard was hoping to avoid. She steeled herself and suppressed a sigh. It was a difficult topic to navigate as she tried to select words that would be more sensitive, catching herself at times for reporting it as bluntly as she had when writing it down. She watched as that hope faded away again as she had, struggling with the boundary as to when it would be acceptable - if it would be acceptable - to attempt to comfort Liara.
But there were no other answers or guarantee that one could truly recover from such a thing as indoctrination, especially if Shepard had her skeptical reservations about it all. She had organized for one of her marines to stay behind on Feros and keep tabs on Shiala, to ensure her efforts to help the colony rebuild was genuine and that she wasn't just a sleeper agent.
Little by little, monumental inch by inch, Liara's posture shifted into that of hunched hopelessness and helplessness. Shepard had to bite her tongue - hard - to stop herself from blurting that there was an injury to still stay mindful of.
This gray area, this no man's land, was the most murky of territories that she's ever had to navigate and chart. She could not help but be wrong in the dark, overwhelmed by her desires for what she so dearly wanted to do. Why did moral ethics and relationships have to be so intimately intertwined? Why was there no easy button to press and eliminate all these dreadful emotions, and replace them with blissful things, to create more happy memories for her next oil check?
It was then she'd realized she hadn't even needed an oil check in the longest time, apart from her most puzzling stressful moments where she'd felt as though she was the one dying by Liara's bedside, even though she had no injuries to trigger such a curious mechanism.
With the final nail in the coffin, explaining there was no other known way to 'cure' indoctrination, Liara twisted to the terminal and turned it on, though her tone was completely turned off.
"I see. So that's why even you have had such difficulty pulling anything out of her."
'Even you'. What exactly did that entail? Shepard wasn't entirely sure she wanted to ask for a more elaborate clarification. She warded away as best as she could in hopes of warming up that icy voice at least a touch, hesitant as she approached to rest a hand on Liara's shoulder. The asari's gaze stayed glued to the terminal, but there was no mistaking the way her body quivered just before it tensed from the touch. She rolled her shoulder subtly as a hint, and Shepard forced herself to take a step back.
"I'm trying hard not to, but I'm overcome in this war."
Now, more than ever, she felt as though she used to - drowning at sea, with no one to hear her, with no one to piece the puzzle together as to why there were so many ripples reaching the shore. They were supposed to swim together, or at least scream together, and she helplessly watched as Liara was thrust upon in the same sea.
"I can't help but want the oceans to part."
Amber lit up more predominantly in her peripheral vision and broke her out of her selfish thoughts, puzzled by the mystery on her screen as she watched Liara navigate the ethernet. What she witnessed had made her want to race to Dr. Chakwas and demand an immediate psychological examination to ensure Liara wasn't permanently broken.
"Bad poems?" Shepard breathed incredulously. "Why?"
There was no answer for the most excruciating of seconds, and when the corner of Liara's lips had curled into a subtle smirk, Shepard had to actively calm herself before she tossed this asari up on her shoulder and sprinted for the med-bay.
"Mother finds them distasteful. She's always been very poetic and graceful."
"Wha..." Shepard swallowed nervously. "I beg your pardon?"
"The fact remains that we still need information from her." Liara twisted slightly as she looked up at Shepard. "I have another idea, but I know you would sooner kick me off the ship."
"You're not torturing her," Shepard blurted when her mind raced to what would be the absolute worst idea this asari could have.
But it wasn't. There was still something far more nightmarish.
"No. I am melding with her."
"Absolutely not," Shepard hissed, uncaring of their boundaries now.
Fuck respect, she wasn't going to just step aside and irresponsibly allow this asari to endanger herself...
But what she was learning now was that she didn't exactly have that kind of power.
"Then will you evict me from the Normandy, Commander?"
"I will if I have to," the soldier clenched her teeth, seething through them. "I will not allow it. We don't understand indoctrination yet, what if-"
"We need that information."
"Not at the cost of losing you!"
There was a moment where there seemed to be something other than emptiness and hopelessness in those blue orbs. Surprise, maybe? It didn't last long, and it broke Shepard's heart. Once she would have been delighted to play this game where each would echo and use each other's words against them, especially if it were a game of revenge, of horrible foods or clever idioms.
But now?
"Save the few, or the many? Did you not say it would be my decision, next time?"
"That's not-"
"It's a common moral quandary. As a matter of fact, it was an ethical debate mother and I have engaged in, among many other topics. There's a similar question to provoke thought: the trolley problem. It's a thought experiment in ethics about a fictional scenario in which an onlooker has the choice to save 5 people in danger of being hit by a trolley, by diverting it so that it kills 1. The term is often used more loosely with regard to any choice that seemingly has a trade-off between what is good and what sacrifices are 'acceptable', if at all."
"Holy fuck I do not care about ethics right now!"
Shepard was positively burning where she stood, and if this was still another method of torture, than it was being done damn well. She snapped and approached, leaned to tower over the abnormally calm asari sitting in her chair, not backing down either. There was no changing her mind, it was certain.
"There is no fucking trolley," Shepard hissed vehemently. "You want the pleasure of debate, Dr. T'Soni? What if we don't get that information? What if you get involuntarily, indirectly indoctrinated by entering your mother's mind? What then? Your sacrifice will be for nothing. 5 people will die, that 1 person will die, and you will be among the casualties on top of it all. It'll be meaningless."
"And if we do nothing, then it will all be meaningless anyways."
"There has to be a better way!" Shepard gestured desperately to the terminal. "Bad poems! Bad dancing! I don't know, but no way are you fucking melding with her. Torture is most effective when you know who you're torturing - so tell me what I need to do, tell me about her, tell me anything I can utilize to make her crack but do not tell me to just stand by and watch you lose your own mind and heart the way she has."
Benezia laughed, laughed when she heard how hurt Liara was, laughed and took pride that she was the cause of that pain. It hurt to imagine Liara with the same manic cackles, her compassion devoid and nonexistent as she revelled in pain.
It hurt to imagine Liara be like Shepard.
She cracked, staring hard at the screen, her jaw locking down on her. It was getting hard to breathe. There was a dizziness gripping her and she felt as though she was going to lose her entire week of meals. The world was getting blurry.
"I know it's hypocritical, I know I said I would do my best to do whatever you asked of me, but... But you can't ask me to stand by and watch you like that," her voice cracked, falling to a frail hush. "Please, Liara. I can't do that. I can't make that call." A bitterness welled up in her and she chuckled emptily, shaking her head as her eyes fluttered shut. "I don't give a fuck if the reapers come. What has the universe done for me except fuck me over? You've been the only good thing to me."
There was a long drawn breath, the exhale weary. Another, and Liara sighed. "I know just as well as you that we need that information, and I need you to trust me. If you are permitted to take risks or sacrifices, then so should I."
"You can't, not with this," Shepard whispered. "You saw it for yourself this time. You saw her. I don't know her, but I know that isn't normal. I know that's what I used to be like. Don't turn into a husk like that."
"I won't," Liara stated confidently. "I'll be careful."
"Can't we try the other ways first? Let's look for your bad poems. I can grant permission to Sergeant Lowe to be present so that maybe we can dance and tire out Benezia that way, or play music that she hates the most. What kind of music would she hate?"
"Shepard."
Pain shot through Shepard's jaw, signalling how hard her teeth ground against each other. A sharp inhale kicked at her chest when a hand slid over hers and squeezed her knuckles.
Relief flooded her when Liara sighed again. "We can try those ways, but if they don't work..."
"They will. They have to." Shepard's head shot up, her omni-tool alight. "Tell me everything about her. Her pet peeves. I'll torture the shit out of her with them."
"Okay that is a little much," Liara sputtered with wide and fearful eyes.
"Right. Sorry. Settling down." Shepard quickly took one of the chairs, typing away bad poems and bad dancing on the list of ideas. "Uh, so, you used to have ethical debates then?"
"Political too - asari politics, primarily, but she thrived on the challenges that universal policies brought with so many species' cultures to take into consideration."
There was going to have to be a lot of research done, evidently, but if it meant keeping Liara far away from danger, then she would do anything.
"Any views in particular that she finds distasteful or disrespectful?"
"Self-serving ones." A beat. "Like what you're doing, currently."
"Okay, good, I can use that. If she hates me, it'll make it easier to-"
"Shepard."
"What about food? I can force feed her crap she doesn't like."
She ignored the sigh that came out of Liara, then. She'd persist, she refused to give up. Eventually, after ignoring many more comments in an effort to change her mind, the asari caved in and complied with more ideas. Many were in line with - terrifyingly enough - some pet peeves that Shepard shared. This was going to torture her just as much as she'd be torturing Benezia, and she begrudgingly worked to come to terms with the inordinate amount of crooked Prothean paintings she'd have to decorate the torture chamber with, and the blinking lights with a bulb on the verge of death, and cluttered disorganized lockers and-
And...
"This isn't about torturing Benezia, is it?"
Realization dawned immediately upon whispering that, and looking over to observe the small halfhearted smile dancing on Liara's lips now. It was Shepard's turn to sigh, and she soldered her gaze to the terminal. She reached to shut it off. Her eyes fell back to the floor, burning a hole in it in hopes some miraculous answers would emerge. She wasn't entirely sure how to feel about the fact that Liara was actually touching her, a thumb massaging on the back of her real knuckles just like the way she'd observed with her synthetic hand.
Somewhere, somehow, despite the dread and despair that gripped her over this frightening thought, she found the tiniest bit of light to smile about.
"I'm terrified that you know all the little things that would torture me so effectively," she joked quietly.
Silence hung like a curtain, and those observant eyes were piercing through her as if it could peer directly into her soul. She was struggling to come to terms with this.
"Why do you have to be so stubborn? Why are you so dead set and certain this can work? What if it doesn't? You aren't doing this just to spite me, are you?"
"I am not."
Liara sounded so tender, yet so firm. It was somewhat unclear as to what part of the barrage of questions she was answering. She retracted her hand and Shepard fought against the urge to selfishly snatch it back. She didn't think it would be this hard to restrain herself.
"I am not being stubborn. I have hope it will work, but more importantly... I would like to do this, because I do not want to break my mother."
She rose from her chair, her determination set in her purposeful stride for the door, inspiring that foolish hope again. The way she could make someone's heart race and stomach knot like this should be downright illegal. But the nature of her revelation brooked a question that Shepard had finally come to realize she had yet to ask, and guilt needled at her for being so slow on the uptake again. She forced herself to follow, ignoring that stray voice in the back of her mind that her agenda had something else planned right now - and resolved to never let Liara find out about this particular pet peeve so as not to torture Shepard some more in the future.
"What do you want, Dr. T'Soni?"
There wasn't the slightest bit of hesitance, and the way her well of hope never showed any signs of drying up, was just one of the many things that Shepard could readily affirm had attracted her and made her gravitate towards it in curiosity, hoping to fill her own well up with it.
"I want to find my mother."
Liara wore an earnest smile - not for anyone but herself, and the entire way she carried herself had changed. It compelled the soldier to cheer her on.
"And I will."