Patience. Support. Listen. Understand. Words that are repeated over and over again in Liara's mind as she tries to focus on the story Jane is enthusiastically telling, employing her hands in the process as she mocks a rifle and the rat-a-tat-tat sounds it supposedly makes when it fires—reservations of whether that's fact is one the scientist ponders privately.

But that deep bruise swelling up Jane's cheekbone, almost curving around her eye, is hard to ignore.

Worry plagues every thought and urge like an infection, and Liara's tongue is hurting more and more with her biting it to stop herself from bringing the bruise to attention, however futile. No doubt it will be some kind of story involving crates all over again. Patience. Support. Listen. Understand. She pushes her desk light away and stows her tools, setting her artifact aside to analyze when she can focus. She hides her frown and burrows her mouth into her palm as she brings her elbow up on her table, a frown that does not last long as she gets a front row seat to Jane's animated storytelling.

"They'll definitely think twice before they try to hit another human colony again," Jane boasts confidently. "Now they know not to mess with us, unless they want the entire armada of the Alliance set on them to weed out every single pocket of space these pirates are cowering in. As if it's helping them. The numbers are classified, but we've wiped out a lot of bases of operations. Fuckers set them up real quick, wasting their time and resources. We'll knock them all down."

Pirates. Batarians. It's all Jane ever talks about. They've made it a point to call each other every day even if there aren't many new things to update each other, even if it's just to say hello and good night, but...

Patience. Support. Listen. Understand.

Pirates. Batarians.

Even though Jane does not seem to get upset when she talks about Elysium, it is painfully clear that—though the wound has closed—the scar will be the one that's cut deepest, worse than the one cutting an angle on her eyebrow, the stapled one on her abdomen, the lacerations on her forearm and thigh from the varrens, the discolored eye from the shard of glass, the vile bruise marring her cheek now.

There is almost a vindictive pleasure seemingly gained when the marine regales her tales of besting the pirates, the pride of apparently difficult shots taken and made accurately. Liara would not know—she does what she can to avoid conflict on her expeditions, and her biotics have never failed her to render creatures unconscious, not taking it personally when they seek her blood. Then again, it is wildlife, it is understandable why they feel provoked to attack or defend their broods and dens, with her as the trespasser. Perhaps she will never understand a marine's mentality.

She feels horrible for wishing she never will have to.

Support. Understand.

"Tomorrow I'll be going radio silent," Jane's words pierce through the incessant inner rambling consuming Liara's mind. "We'll be launching an operation on one of their main red sand carriers. Taken down lots of frigates too, but this is gonna be the big momma of them all," she grins proudly. "Best feeling ever, seeing that shit on the news. Have you been watching?"

"Mm hm," Liara mumbles with a strained smile, her eyes briefly fleeting over to check the clock on her terminal. She barely suppresses a yawn in time for seeing it's hours past her norm for sleeping on Armali's clock. Before Jane spirals into another story—or series of them—the scientist interjects quickly. "I must go soon, siame, but before that... I understand these missions are important, but would you happen to know when might be your next shore leave?"

White flashes in a guilt-ridden smirk and awkward laugh within seconds, as if it's an anticipated question. Liara deflates when Jane's nervous tic betrays her commitment to composure, rubbing her neck as she leans back in her chair rather than eating up the whole screen. "I ah... I haven't applied for it yet."

Liara's stomach sinks, and it appears she doesn't need to say anything when her expression likely betrays her, with the way Jane rushes her next words.

"I know, I know! But these missions are really important, and intel says we've just about cleaned up Bahanak Frontier. Once we hit this carrier, we should be able to trace them back to their final base of operations. That's all I know and understand from the reports so far, anyways. No matter what, I promise I'll send a request in after we shut that base down."

Patience. Listen.

"Not after this carrier?" Liara blurts. She doesn't know why she's shooting herself in the foot so much. Her stomach won't stop plummeting, and she sighs when Jane's guilty smirk turns into a full blown grin. The scientist struggles not to deflate, not to point out how it's been a year now. She's certain Jane hasn't forgotten. Liara can relate to the passion and desire to work, especially after all that the marine's been through to get where she's at, to be born and reborn. Liara's heart twists and worry needles at her again when Jane wiggles her jaw, her fingers coming up to prod her bruised cheekbone as she chuckles her ow's.

Support. Goddess, tides take it all, just support even if she can't truly understand or listen.

Suddenly, Jane's grin falls, her stall stops. Her eyes lose that ever-present fire, hardening with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

"It's almost over, love. After this whole operation is over, I'll request shore leave for longer than a week to make up for all this lost time. I promise. But I need to do this, I need to see this through. I failed too many people on Elysium. Maybe it's not the same pirates, but it's the same crew and I want justice for those people. I haven't forgotten them, even if the rest of the galaxy has. I've matched some of the missing persons reports to the faces I remember during my time on the station. I just... I don't know. I don't know what this mission will do. I'm not expecting or chasing revenge, but... I don't know."

"It'll be closure for you," Liara supplements a guess. She hadn't even known she was so tense until she melts with relief in her chair when Jane nods with a look as if the scientist hit her mark. "A proper end to the chapter of Elysium, so that you can truly move on in peace from it." She nips her tongue, suffocating the words that Jane's not ever failed anyone. It always seems to hurt the marine instead. Hopefully one day she will be able to see and believe otherwise.

"Exactly! You always get it—get me." Jane's endearing grin comes back to life. "So... Sorry but thanks, you know? For being here for me. I get it's hard. I'm sorry for this year, love, but what I can promise is that I'll make up for all the time lost. I'll always come back."

Lips strain to smile, and Liara doubles her efforts when she knows the marine can tell, a slash of worry marring Jane's face. Liara straightens in her seat and kisses her finger tips, before pressing it forwards towards the screen. "I know you will, siame."

She tears her gaze away from the bruise when her mind mocks her.

At what cost will she have to pay again to come back, next time?

Jane repeats the details over and over in her head as she takes her seat in the shuttle, closing her eyes soon after the pilot announces they will be unlocking and departing from their carrier. This is it. She listens in content to the other marines chatter among themselves—her new charges, with no familiar faces—as they discuss the contents of a report she'd written of their last joint attack on a red sand den. She opens her eyes and her head lulls over to them, smirking when she interjects.

"Careful. That report I wrote is more like a category 2 shitstorm."

Seemingly caught off guard, the marines stare wide-eyed, as if trapped in a debacle of whether or not to remain professional around her. She shrugs and closes her eyes as she falls back into her mantra and meditation of circulating Major Kyle's plan within her mind's eye, tuning out the tentative chatter from her charges, keeping only an ear out if there's a question she can answer.

Her blood boils, burning in her seat at the promise of special forces operatives joining them on this attack, as well as their final assault on the Torfan base Alliance intel has somehow discovered already. Scary shit, what they're capable of. But now she'll get to witness the best of the best in action, marines who have climbed the ranks and achieved N7. She has to pull up, be sharp, be the best she can possibly be, and hopefully she'll get the opportunity to lead even a small joint unit to support the N7 marines.

The pilot announces visual on the pirate carrier. Her eyes snap open and she glances over at her charges, where they sit more rigidly at attention. By-the-book soldiers. Fleeting glances over their shoulders show they're green, all Ensigns. Of course. It's not like she's an Admiral or anything. She resists the urge to click her tongue off the roof of her mouth. Leading a direct charge inside the carrier will be a little clunky if they're unfamiliar with fighting close-quarters, or fighting a real battle at all, really. She'll be forced to stay on the defensive and support the other units, mitigate the risks of accidental friendly fire in the frantic heat of the moment.

"When our boots are inside their carrier, you follow me the whole time. No exceptions. Don't break formation to pull off your own heroics." She thrusts her helmet on and locks it to her suit. "Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Whenever things get overwhelming, just stick close to each other, hand on the shoulder, whatever helps ground you and keeps you able to hear my orders. We don't need to win this in seconds. Understood?"

The Ensigns nod nervously. Oh, how she would have killed to see action this early on in her career. She can think nothing but the addictive adrenaline coursing through her just to be able to be here again, fighting to remain mindful that these marines probably don't share her excitement with how scared shitless they look. The Alliance has really pulled what spare soldiers they could have to launch all these assaults.

"Don't sweat it. We'll all be home before you know it. Think of this as live-fire training," Jane blurts, honestly struggling a little to whip up some kind of pep talk to set the marines a little more at ease. Shaky hands and cracking confidence will sooner make them break formation the second they step on the carrier.

"We're dive-docking an airlock," the pilot announces.

Jane shoots up into standing, motioning for the others to follow as they head to the hatch, grabbing onto the ceiling bars to stay upright as the shuttle rocks vicariously. The second the pilot gives the go-ahead, Jane races to open the hatch and barks loudly for the orders to carry clearly. "Follow me and don't stop moving! Check your fire and call your targets!"

"Aye aye!" The chorus resounds behind her.

Grates groan and creak as their feet pound down the shaft, one where a secret burns in her throat so as not to reveal to the Ensigns—by the time they reach the main forces through this section of the pirate carrier, it'll likely have already been taken over. The likelihood of them actually coming across a group of pirates is slim, but better that she overprepares her charges to be ready for any scattered enemies that could still organize themselves to seal the breach in this shaft.

Echoes of gunfire and explosions ring further down. She holds out her arm and slows her pace after a quick check over her shoulder shows some marines lingering behind. She aims her rifle forward as she comes to a stop, waiting to hear the footsteps behind her die out.

"From the blueprints, we should be clear of this shaft in about another 50 meters. From the sounds, we'll come into contact. Get into cover and provide suppressive fire."

"U-understood, ma'am," there's a desync among the marines. She can't help but feel annoyed, but more so at herself. She knows she's failing this, but what can she even tell them to steel their nerves? All she can think to do is to channel her inner Arsehole Admiral, one of which she had plenty of opportunities to experience the displeasure of—but couldn't argue against the results. She doesn't take her eyes off the corridor in case any pirates come through here, angling her head to shoot a stern look behind her. The updates feeding through her frequency with the leaders of the other units race continuously, and she tries to stay focused on the ever-evolving battlefield whilst monitoring her unit.

"Take a deep breath and get a hold of yourselves! Let fear tell you what you need to fight, not run from. If you can't make sure you have a steady grip on your gun, then turn back now and wait to board the next shuttle that'll dive-dock the airlock, because right now you are more dangerous than these pirates. I don't want bullets in my arse just because you can't stop shaking for two seconds, or else you'll have to deal with a very pissed off asari that can literally warp your guts right outta ya."

Well. Not something Liara would likely ever actually do—and imagery Jane is struggling not to smirk over of the horrified look on the scientist's face, as well as the hail of apologizes for the way real fear is being instilled in these greens. One looks so pale, he might honestly pass out. More updates feed into her frequency, and she sighs. She's definitely not going to win any accolades that'll bring her even remotely close to the N7s in the next operation. She walks backwards, keeping her rifle forward, reaching blindly with a hand until she hooks on his shoulder, her tone softening.

"Remind yourself: why have you fought this hard to become a marine, to be here right now?"

"T-to prot-" the marine's voice breaks off, straining. "Protect."

"Alright. Then here's your order, soldier. You and..." Jane glances over, reading the name tags of who else looks like they're fading. "Ensigns Peterson and Bennett, you three hold your position here and ensure this shaft remains secure." She taps her ear. "Stay connected on our unit's frequency and report if you make contact with any pirates, so that I can relay it to the reinforcements that will need to utilize this passageway. Protect the marines that'll come after you. Understood?"

A brief confused look, until the three snap to a salute. "Yes, Lieutenant-Commander."

"Good. The rest of you, move out with me. Let's go!"

Back to the grates pounding harshly. She keeps the updates to herself, electing to make it a little bit of a training exercise for the remaining shaky souls behind her. She prays to every god and goddess that exists that she'll get to lead marines who have at least seen a couple battles for the assault on the base, or she swears she might just stuff these greens in the nearest foxhole and go solo.

The echoes have long since stopped. She sees the shaft open up and has visual on busted crates, leaking red sand. She holds up a fist over her shoulder to signal a sharp stop, listening to the heavy breathing behind her. No sounds in front of her, but she remains ready and on guard to give the Ensigns some battle experience. She motions for them to move with her again, quietly stalking forth.

There's a part of her that's both vindictively proud, and also dying inside in dramatic despair when they come into the opening. The pirates have surrendered, waiting on their knees to be arrested. If it were up to her, she wouldn't accept their surrender. The pirates wouldn't. It would just be an opportunity for them to murder or enslave. The Alliance system is naive if they think they're actually rehabilitating batarians to turn a new leaf and give up piracy.

Speaking of, there are a few faces in here that look familiar from the news. They'll be locked up a little longer, but sooner or later overcrowding is going to lead to them being released based on 'good behavior'. And then they'll be back here again.

Hopefully next time she'll get to see action on Torfan, rather than play babysitter again. She tunes into her radio for the unit. "Peterson, Bennett and Yassine, rendezvous with us at the end of the shaft. The pirates have surrendered. We'll assist in the efforts to count the red sand crates."

There's a nervous aye aye back, and she glances over at the other Ensigns with her, before turning back to observe the other units. She struggles not to chuckle and shake her head. What a shitshow. She clearly still has a hell of a lot more to learn before she can dream of being N7, rallying people together with some spur-of-the-moment inspirational speech flying out her ass to motivate and rise above fears. It came naturally with Tony on Elysium, but... He was a civilian. As if that somehow makes a difference.

Well, she can always chat with the Ensigns afterwards, and open a conversation on what they believe would help them, make them work on it. This carrier battle won't be their last, and if she's stuck with them again on Torfan, then she better figure out what makes them click. And fast. She relays on the leaders' frequency that her unit will begin counting the red sand crates, before ordering her charges to get started once the last three Ensigns catch up with her.

Meanwhile, she takes it upon herself to head over to one of the pirates waiting to be arrested, kneeling in front of him as they each glare at each other.

"Think you're going to make me talk, human?" The batarian sneers.

Jane unlocks and removes her helmet, smiling innocently at him as she lowers her voice. "Trust me when I say you're very lucky that I don't have the pleasure of interrogating you."

The batarian scoffs with a low chuckle, shrugging. "You are all the same. You think this matters. That you have won, saved the day." He grins manically. "Year from now? This won't matter. Everyone will forget."

"Not everyone," Jane growls. Her hand snaps forward and hooks on the lip of his suit, pulling him in until their foreheads knock, revolted by the way four eyes dart about to seethe at her. "We won a year ago, we're winning a year later, we're going to keep winning every year from here on out. We haven't forgotten anybody. We're here today because we remember. You're lucky I had to babysit today, or you wouldn't get to be begging on your knees like this, like the coward that you are."

Another shrug. "Say what you want, human. It means nothing. You will throw me in prison, and I will be freed. Who knows? Maybe your Alliance will pay and arm me again. Had a good deal going before."

Something inside begs to smash this freak into the ground, but she tears herself away before her temper gets the best of her. He's just lying to get under her skin. There's no way the Alliance would do that—what for? Arm them just to suppress them? It makes no sense. There's always been political tension between humans and batarians, with batarians supposedly punishing for their settlement in space.

She scoffs at the notion, heading back to her collection of bewildered greens as they apparently find themselves lost on counting crates, chuckling a little as she rallies them to come back to her so that she can organize to tackle this task.

The whole time, a little voice plays devil's advocate, wondering how Alliance intel has been able to find all these bases and ships so quickly.

"Is everything okay?" Are the first words flying out of Liara's mouth the moment they connect, and Jane chuckles softly as she nods. "What happened to radio silence? Is the operation over then? Or-"

"Not quite yet. But soon—one more stop. Sorry for being a pest, love." Jane observes the background, smirking a little upon seeing a thunderous storm outside a cave's entrance. The scientist has bigger things to worry about. "Is now a bad time?"

"Not at all," Liara glances over towards the storm, the feed crackling a little bit. "I have to wait this out." Despair mars her features. "It is going to take me even longer to extract the artifact now."

"Oooff, yeah, all that mud is gonna be drowning it, and then you'll be slipping and sliding everywhere and-"

"Not helping."

"Not you," Jane grins devilishly, "I'm having a lot of fun imagining all of this."

Liara shoots a pointed look, though mirth dances in her eyes as she mocks an indignant tone. "Shall I set up a camera and record my endeavors?"

"Yes please, best gift ever."

"So happy to hear my misery is amusing to you."

Jane's grin only grows, and soon they fall back into their routine of small talks, though she isn't feeling chatty. She wants to take her mind off it all, to forget what the batarian said, to erase this stupid useless doubt inside. What good is it? What could she even do? Nothing. And dad would likely be the best person to have actual verified information on this kind of accusation, but it's not like she can just shoot off a message or have a vid-call recording their chat, and drag them both off to who knows where to be silenced if—

Enough, this isn't like some espionage movie.

Thankfully, Liara is more enthused and has plenty to share of what she's observed and deduced with the artifact she's stumbled upon now. Potentially Prothean, most likely not unfortunately, but whatever it is—even if Jane isn't quite understanding all the terminology—it's still fascinating the scientist. The passion revived is always a sight to see, and Jane props her chin on her palm as she smiles away, watching animated hand gestures and crude diagrams desperately drawn onto the corner of the vid-call to brainstorm potential extinction events based on all the chemistry tests run on this planet's soil and flora life.

All this talk of history and possibilities drags that nagging question to the forefront of Jane's mind.

What will happen, a year from now?

It makes monsters buzz under her skin, hearing the batarian's voice shroud her own. She used to comfort Liara that way, until Liara used to comfort her that way. Year from now, they would be the ones laughing in the end. They would forget, and it would mean nothing, whatever they were referring to. The batarian pirate was right, despite Jane's resistance and insistence otherwise. Elysium isn't as fresh in her mind anymore. She is forgetting. It is meaning less. She's in a rush to complete this operation to move on from it.

"Siame?" Liara's worried voice warbles into the fray. "Are you okay? You are very quiet. Are you ill?"

Jane laughs, her grin renewed. "Am I really that bad? I must be sick if I'm not talkin' so much, huh?"

"Must be," the scientist pokes for fun, though the concern in her eyes is already telling that Jane isn't going to get away from this one so easily.

Not for lack of trying.

"Can't I just enjoy you being the chatterbox for once, love?"

"Of course you can." A devilish smile quirks the corner of Liara's lips. "So—oh, hm... I'll give you two minutes—what have I just said?"

"Two minutes? Do you think I have the memory of an elephant or something?"

"Jane," Liara warns, but it isn't over what she'd said. It's like it can be felt at this point, these nuances in her body language, the way her emotions are so free in her eyes.

It drives in more guilt with how much harder the marine has to work to hide everything. Will she ever not? It feels like she's been a liar for years, despite valuing honesty. What a joke. She groans at the mental ripping and dumps her head in her hands. "It's more classified stuff, love. I just need out of my head—I'm thinking about it too much. I just want something else to sink my teeth into." On a whim, her head shoots up. "Where do you see us, a year from now?"

"Wh-what?" Liara's face darkens.

Quickly.

"Ooh~ looks like I've asked a juicy question," Jane smirks, leaning forward, captivated by all the possibilities her lover's been entertaining. "Tell me, tell me. What do asari do with long term relationships?" There's heat collecting at the base of her own throat, with some of the possibilities humans entertain in their culture.

"Oh, you meant about us," Liara breathes with relief.

"Hey hey hey, wait, what?! What were you panicking about then?"

"My career, obviously."

"You're self-employed!"

"But I could find something incredibly vital to what's happened to the Protheans, and that discovery-"

"Load of shit," Jane calls it, chanting it as Liara laughs. "Load of shit, you're so full of it! You're stallin', I know it!"

"Siame," the scientist almost sing-songs it, her chuckles skip along. When her mirth settles, she makes a kind of face Jane rarely gets to see. The way she looks with reverence and affection pierces any wall the marine could ever hope to put up, and it's almost as if it's connected to her own bloody eyes, making them sting. This asari's too good to her, too sweet to her.

"A year from now?" Liara hums thoughtfully, pretending to be, her own eyes glossing sheen—her boldness and bravado slightly hushing as anxiety rushes in. "A year from now, we're going to be bond-mates."

Jane stares. The scientist has a breath whooshing out of her, as if she's been waiting to say this for ages, and her anxiety becomes more apparent with each second ticking by. She seems to go into full blown panic mode then, like she's realized what she's just said, and...

And the vid-call is over.

Jane is staring at her wall, now, with the screen flicking off. She laughs, immediately calling Liara back. It takes several ignored attempts until finally the flushed asari is on her screen again, and Jane grins. "So what, is that like, the equivalent of how humans marry—if you know—or something?"

"Jane, please!"

"Well I don't know!"

"Look it up th-"

"Nope. I wanna hear it from you. All the details, love. I need to start practicing my speeches or whatever I gotta do to be your bond-mate."

"Ja-" Liara stops abruptly, her brow furrowing. "Wait. What?"

"What, what?"

"What did you say?"

"Dunno. I don't have the memory of an elephant, remember?"

"It was only 30 seconds at best!"

"Huh? What'd you ask?"

Liara groans, and her embarrassment guides her hands to deftly end the vid-call again. Jane cackles, her spirit alight, her mind getting to sink it's fangs into another dream in her soul. She hits her bed, lighting up her omni-tool, and begins to research everything about whatever this bond-mate business is. Her bruised cheek screams for mercy with a permanent grin etched on her face for the rest of the night, until she falls asleep, ignoring the pebble of ominous dread brewing in her stomach over the stupid devil's advocate taunting her in the back of her thoughts.

Whatever. She's going to breeze through Torfan, and then she'll get to come home to Liara so they can start being bond-mates this year. She's a greedy and impatient woman.

A year from now is too long to wait for.