Author's Note:

Well, here we are! The start of installment two of the Dark Energy trilogy. I know that I said it would be called 'Path of Shadows', however as that abbreviates to PoS, I made a minor alteration. It is now called 'Trail of Shadows' because I'd rather have some term of service over a piece of shit any day.

*crickets*

Ok, bad joke. Sorry about that. Anyway, a quick recap for those who read DE1 or for those just wandering in for the first time (really though, if you're just wandering in...read DE1).

My Shepard is female, renegade, potty-mouthed and has a penchant for cigars. She's romantically involved with Liara T'Soni. Kaidan died on Virmire, Wrex lives, the Council was saved, Anderson was elected (which I didn't include in the end of DE1 but do mention in the beginning of DE2). Yah, I know it doesn't sound very renegade broken down like that but...read DE1, it'll make sense. She's so TOTALLY renegade.

I'm inserting an MA warning for the language, crude humor, blood, gore, and all around wicked violence. Also, another warning...if you thought Shepard was bad-tempered and haunted by her demons in the FIRST story, well...prepare to be amazed.

As before this is NOT strictly canon and NOT a regurgitation of the games. You will be able to follow along easily but in several cases I will, very much on purpose, stray from canon completely. I always have a reason for doing so (may not always be a GOOD reason) and it will not detract from the integrity of the plot itself. Also, I write this on the premise that everyone reading it will have played through ME2 at least once. I do not apologize for spoilers and I don't go to great lengths explaining the universe of Mass Effect and its cultures and technology so if you're lost...go play ME and ME2, THEN read this.

I will include some of the downloadable missions in this story, but not all. Lair of the Shadowbroker (obviously) will be in, as will Overlord and things like Kasumi and Zaeed. Firewalker is out. I'm sorry, I hated that mission and would set fire to it after dipping it in a vat of acid if I could.

Yes. I have issues.

My OCs such as Yoh Etat and Gellian Osco will most certainly be back. There may be more OCs as well...it's very likely. I have no idea for sure, of course, because I make this shit up as I go.

As always, feel free to PM me if you have any questions, comments, or constructive criticisms. Also, I am off for the holiday so the next chapter will probably not be up until Tuesday. So have a most wonderful holiday filled with light and good cheer, and I will see you again next week.

Now, brace yourselves. This Shepard is real. And she's really about to put her bitch hat on. So sit back, and enjoy the ride.

Dark Energy 2: Trail of Shadows

"Don't move."

The tiny glimmer of light crept over her face, before it narrowed its focus between her eyes. A thin cloud of cigar smoke wafted upward, curling through the beam, making it shimmer.

"I have you now."

A click. Liara giggled, lowering the tiny palm camera as Shepard glared up from her guitar in mock disapproval.

"Pictures? Really?"

"I plan to sell them to all of your adoring fans," Liara replied with a smirk. "I'll make thousands of credits."

"Is that so?"

"Well, dozens of credits at least."

Shepard snorted, setting the guitar aside on the bed. Dressed in her yoga pants and a tank, she looked far more casual than most of the crew ever saw her aboard ship. Propping her cigar on an ashtray beside her bed, she held her hand out. "Give."

Liara retracted the little camera to her chest defensively. "You will not erase them?" she asked warily.

"I won't, but turnabout is fair play. You get pictures of me, I get them of you…especially dressed like that. Give."

Liara, who was only wearing her undergarments, smirked a little, then held the camera out. "All right…but if these end up on the extranet I will hit you with a biotic slam so hard you'll think you're a hanar."

"Don't worry, I'm not sharing these with anyone," Shepard grinned, aiming the camera and taking a shot of the asari. Looking coy, Liara pursed her lips to blow a kiss, and Shepard took another shot.

"I'm sending that one to Nan," she teased.

"Oh you will not," Liara laughed, plucking a pillow off the bed and lobbing it at her. As Shepard tossed it away again, the asari's eyes lit up with an idea.

"Oh, here!"

Plucking Shepard's swagman off the nightstand she planted it on her head at a rakish angle, giving a sly little smile. The wolverine tail draped over her shoulder and she brushed a hand over it coquettishly.

"You know, I do believe you look better in that hat than I do," Shepard shook her head, before taking another photo of her. Liara beamed, then slid up on the bed, wrapping her arms around the other woman's shoulders, hugging her close.

Shepard smiled slightly, resting her head on Liara's shoulder before reaching up and taking off the hat, tossing it aside. Pulling the asari with her she lay back, letting Liara drape over her.

Inclining her head a little as she looked down at the human woman, Liara noted the tension still lurking at the corners of her mouth, in that fine line between her eyebrows. "You still can't relax," she noted gently.

"I'm just frustrated, Tianlán," Shepard murmured. "Two goddamn months, and we've gone from heroes to a fuckin' clean-up crew. Mopping up geth…we should be hunting down every scrap of information we can find on the Reapers, make sure they actually are trapped in dark space. Instead we're popping walking trash-cans and chasing ghosts."

"I know," Liara said understandingly.

"Two fuckin' months. Four days in this sector alone!"

"I know," Liara repeated, and lightly kissed the corner of Shepard's mouth. "You did not give up hunting Saren and Sovereign. I know you will not give up on this."

"Hmm," Shepard snorted, then smirked. "Here, plant one a little more center. Maybe that'll help."

Liara smiled slightly, then leaned down again and kissed her properly. Drawing back she asked, "Better?"

"I don't know…I think repeat testing is in order," Shepard hedged.

"Oh you do?" Liara murmured, and repeated the gesture, making this one last. As their hearts fell into perfect rhythm, she felt Shepard's fingers lightly stroking her lower back. Goosebumps lifted a moment, warmth rushing over her.

As the kiss broke again, Shepard looked at her softly for a second, then smiled and winked. Drawing the camera over she scooted a little, urging Liara to lay back beside her. Lifting the camera above them at arm's length, Shepard zoomed in on their faces.

"Smile," she murmured, and then snapped the shot.

As she lowered the camera again, Liara turned and nuzzled her ear, kissing it before she whispered softly, "I lo-"

{Brace for evasive maneuvers!}

Joker's voice blasted through the comm, a breath before the entire ship seemed to lift and then drop with a bone-crushing jar. The wail of alarms filled the air. Instantly Shepard was off the bed, slapping her hand into her console.

"Report!"

{We are under attack! They came out of nowhere! We're hit bad! Pressley is-}

He broke off as another metal-ripping slam tore through ship.

"Get dressed and in your hard-suit!" Shepard snapped at Liara as soon as she'd regained her balance. Without bothering to change, she charged bare-foot out of her quarters.

Smoke from a dozen small fires was filling the air, forms rushing in every direction. As Shepard reached her locker, Ashley ran up, already in her hard-suit. Without waiting for her to speak Shepard barked, "Get up to the CIC! See if-"

The ship rumbled again, the low hollow boom of an explosion sounding from somewhere below them. "Get these people to the escape pods!" Shepard amended, hauling on her own suit with a swiftness born of practice. Ashley vanished toward the CIC, Shepard running toward the gunnery controls, helmet in hand.

Slamming the emergency beacon launch with a fist, the console folded out from the wall just outside Armament. As the holo interface lit up, she pulled on her helmet, locking it down.

Frantically dressing, Liara felt like she was moving in slow motion, her heart thundering with fear. Tugging her shirt down she grabbed the small camera and slipped it into her pocket. As she turned to leave the room, the ship lurched again, flinging her off her feet. Somehow she managed to catch herself, one arm on the bed, the other on the nightstand. As she pulled herself back up her fingers closed on paper. Nearly tearing it she pulled it free from where it was weighted by the clock, unconsciously jamming it in her pocket even as she fled to retrieve her hard-suit.

Fires raged everywhere, smoke pooling above her as she ran toward Armament, knowing Shepard would be launching the distress beacon. She pulled her helmet on, locking it down even as she ran up behind the woman.

Shepard was struggling with the console, which was flashing an error message. Her helmet briefly turned toward Liara as the asari drew to a halt.

{Distress beacon is ready but won't goddamn launch!} she told Liara over the helmet comm.

{Will the Alliance even reach us in time?}

Shepard rose, snatching an emergency extinguisher off the wall and tossing it to the asari, who caught it. She pointed at a fire in front of the conduit access leading to the console, and Liara obediently set about putting out the flames.

{They damn well better!} Shepard barked back, slapping open another panel and reaching in, re-routing some power before she moved over to Liara. The flames now out, she tore open the access and began working.

{Mayday mayday mayday!} Joker's voice echoed over the comm. {This is SSV Normandy, we have taken heavy damage! We are under attack by an unknown dreadnaught…can anyone hear me!}

{Joker! Get to the damn escape pod!} Shepard shouted. If the pilot heard her, he didn't respond, only repeating his previous message. Shepard cursed, yanked the last connection into place, and straightened, grabbing Liara's arm.

{Get to the escape pods!}

{I'm not leaving you!} Liara retorted firmly, the same fire lighting in her eyes that had flared on Ilos, when Shepard had insisted on going to see Vigil alone. Grabbing the sides of Liara's helmet, Shepard peered through her own visor into the asari's.

{Liara, I need you to help these people! I need you to get them into the escape pods! I'll head up and get Joker.}

{But-}

{Go, Liara!} Shepard barked, and then as she released her helmet, she added more softly, {Please.}

Shepard turned back to the console, the beacon launch now flickering green and yellow instead of red. Liara felt her mouth grow dry.

Trust her. You have to trust her.

{Aye aye} she murmured back, then reluctantly turned and ran.

As Shepard reached the door of the CIC, she could hear Joker still screaming in her ear, shouting his maydays and begging the Normandy to hold together. Shepard knew better than that…every shudder through the ship was nothing more than the dying throes of a mortally wounded beast. She yelled repeatedly, ordering him to get to the helm's escape pod, but he either couldn't…or wouldn't…hear her.

As the doors started opening her HUD suddenly flashed a warning. The sudden rush of air from behind her jostled her, the magnet locks in her boots the only things that kept her from stumbling, quite literally, out into space.

The CIC was all but gone, only the floor and ragged lengths of wall keeping the Normandy's body attached to its head. Debris floated idly about, caught along with the vessel's inertia and so seeming to just hang like insane party favors overhead.

Above she could see only space, eternal, depthless, black as death and as beautiful as diamonds sunk on velvet. The edge of a large planet, gold and rose, was slowly moving into view.

The Normandy is caught in her gravity well. It'll pull the wreckage right in.

Hands drifted down, fingers sweeping lightly over Shepard's faceplate, like weeds in a still pond. Gently brushing them aside, Shepard looked up into the half-burned but still recognizable face of Ensign Parks. Parks had been assigned to them just after the Citadel attack…she had just been twenty.

Shepard's dark brown eyes shifted a little, the face of the serenely drifting Ensign reflecting on her face-plate in a background of glowing stars, before the commander turned away.

The helm had been sealed off with a barrier. Striding toward it slowly, unable to move too fast lest her magnets lose lock on the ship's deck, she could see Joker still at the helm, shouting his frantic maydays as he attempted to turn the crippled Normandy out of the planet's gravity.

Reaching the barrier, she carefully passed through…as if surfacing from that still pond in which Parks floated peacefully. Once clear she rushed forward.

{Joker! Let's go!} she barked.

{No, I have to turn her!} Joker shot back, straining with the controls. {She'll fall into Alchera!}

{The ship is lost, Joker! The two of us dying with her isn't going to stop it from happening!}

His eyes widened suddenly. {Commander, they're firing aga-!}

The helm shuddered violently, and Shepard turned at a flare of light and an ominous rumble. For a moment, she could see the beam of some massive weapon slicing through what remained of the CIC, severing it with all the precision of a surgeon's scalpel.

She had never seen anything like it before. Plasma torpedoes, pocket nukes, heavy bombardment rounds, those she had expected. This was something far beyond her experience, beyond the pale.

When the attack had come, she had naturally expected it was the geth…now, she began to wonder. Unless the geth had come up with some seriously radical weapon upgrades in the last two months, this was someone else entirely.

Whipping around she snatched hold of Joker's arm, ignoring his startled yelp of pain as she all but bodily lifted him out of the pilot's chair.

{We have no more time!} she snapped as she hauled him toward the helm's escape pod. As the door hissed open she pushed him inside. He would probably suffer a few fractures but there was no time to be gentle.

Even as she shoved, she felt a shove herself as the helm erupted with a violent, flaming cough. Slamming into the edge of the pod door she rebounded, the force enough to tear her magnet locked boots away from the deck. Reaching out frantically she felt her fingertips brush over the frame of the pod hatch, saw Joker's alarmed face gape back at her, eyes wide.

He struggled up, trying to get to his feet, one hand reaching out as if he had any hope of catching hold of her.

{Commander!}

Another wall drifted past her and she grabbed hold of it tightly, risking a look back.

The CIC was gone, slowly tumbling away in a ruin. The barrier enclosing the helm was flickering, about to die. If it went, and that pod wasn't closed, it would explosively decompress and Joker would instantly be killed.

The pod could be launched both from within and from the panel on the wall…the very ragged wall to which Shepard now clung. The control was, in fact, only inches from her hand. If she hit it, the pod would shut and launch. Joker would be safe, but she would be sealing her own fate.

For Shepard, that had never been a hard decision.

She reached for the control just as the wall seemed to tear itself away from her hand, her grip ripping free. Slapping out frantically she barely managed to hit the command before she sailed away again, out of reach.

{Shepard!}

The pod slammed shut, and a breath later rocketed free of the Normandy's ruined corpse. Almost the same instant, the barrier gave way, the entire helm splitting apart in a glut of fire as that strange beam lanced through it.

The fire was brief, flaring only a moment on the scant oxygen that had been trapped in the helm. Shepard slammed into something, found herself tumbling madly, then hit something else. The second strike halted her mad tumble and she gasped as she looked around herself.

Like a shattered egg, the remains of her once beautiful ship were falling away all around her, slowly drifting toward the planet looming ever larger. She could hear only her own frantic breathing, her HUD flashing red as it reported communication links were severed. Then another warning flashed up, just as Shepard realized her panting was not drawing any oxygen.

Either one of the strikes or the lancing shards of metal thrown by each explosion had managed to damage her hard-suit's oxygen unit, slicing through lines. Groping back, she could feel the faint blast of venting oxygen flowing past her gloves. Clamping down she tried to seal the leak but her HUD only continued to flash, now showing warnings of her own vital signs. There must be more than one leak.

Gasping frantically for air that was not there, Shepard came to a realization that she was going to die, that she had already taken her last breath, her lungs were just in denial of that fact. Black spots began to flare in front of her vision, her head swimming, each fruitless gasp producing only desperate burning in her chest. Slowly her hands slipped away from their failed attempts to clamp off the leaks. As she listened to the thundering of her heart, time seemed to slow. Her gasps faded away, and she blinked once…then twice, her brown eyes reflecting the distant stars, the beautiful red and gold of the slowly nearing planet.

For a moment, she fancied she could hear Liara's voice again, but it was only a memory of words once spoken.

Find your peace, Shepard. We are all one. You are part of everything around you, part of the rock and the trees, part of life and the void. We are all connected. Find your peace, Shepard.

The faint sound of seagulls, the soothing shift of the ocean. Shepard's eyes fixed on the stars but she saw only clouds, and sunlight.

Are you there?

Blue lips barely moved, struggling to form a word, but with no air to give that word form.

Yes.

Let go. It's all right. Embrace your peace, Shepard. Embrace eternity.

The madly flashing HUD suddenly shifted to steady red, the rapidly dropping vital signs falling flat. Shepard no longer saw the stars, or the planet beneath her. She didn't see the first shimmers of orange and amber as she entered the upper atmosphere, didn't feel the heat beginning to grow around her.

She saw and felt only peace.

Liara ran down the docking corridor of the SSV Seattle, ignoring the forms rushing around her save to dodge them. Behind her, she could hear the heavy slap of Williams' boots as she trotted to catch up, but the Chief wisely did not try and halt her.

Eight pods had so far been retrieved by the Seattle…two more by the SSV Nova Scotia. Liara and Ashley had not been aboard the same one, but they had both been among the first retrieved. For the last two hours, they had been trying to get a full list of everyone that had been accounted for as each pod was tractored in. Ten pods recovered…and the Normandy had boasted only eleven.

The remaining pod had been the small pilot launch off the helm, the only one that Shepard and Joker could have gotten too. They had just heard from the infirmary that this final pod had been located and was being moved into dock.

The dockside door parted before the two rushing women, displaying a scene of no less chaos. Darting past mechanics they quickly spotted the pod as it settled to the deck, and picked up speed.

Two medics were waiting, and as soon as the pod settled its door released and irised open. The medics ducked inside, then emerged almost immediately, supporting a pained, haggard looking Joker.

Nearly shoving past them, Liara tried to catch her breath, staring into the small…and empty…lifeboat.

"No," she breathed softly, her stomach dropping a moment. Whirling as Ashley reached her side and also looked within, Liara took two steps and grabbed hold of Joker's uniform shirt.

"Where is she, Joker?" she gasped. The pilot didn't reply, just blinked at her with damp, swollen eyes that admitted a truth the asari most adamantly didn't want to hear. He looked away as horror, denial, filled her gaze.

"No! No, it's not possible. She…where is she Joker? Where is Shepard?"

"It was my fault," he mumbled. "I should have listened…should have gotten out-"

"Where is she?"

"Liara, they have to get him to the infirmary," Ashley intervened, throwing a restraining arm around the asari's shoulders and urging her back. Her own lashes damp, she was nevertheless holding it together. A soldier had to hold it together until the mission was done…and right now, Liara was her mission. The asari was not trained, not military. This was a ragged wound she was not prepared to deal with.

"No! He has to tell me!" Liara demanded, her eyes swimming, her head pounding as Ash drew her back firmly. Her fingers slipped free from Joker's shirt and as the medics led him away Liara started to crumple. Ashley held her up, murmuring in her ear.

"We'll find out," she promised. "Ok? Keep it together, Li. There's still a chance. The Skipper wouldn't give up on us and we won't give up on her, all right? There could be a mistake in the report from the Nova Scotia. She could have been in one of those pods…it happens all the time in S&R. Things are chaotic, people are hurt…mistakes are made all the time. Ok?"

Eyes swimming with tears, Liara tried to steady herself, nodding with a sniffle. "I can't…I can't lose her, Ash…"

"We'll just…we'll see what's what, figure it out," Williams promised. "She's strong and she's smart and she doesn't quit. If there was a way you know she'd have found it. We just have to see what's what."

Liara nodded again, and Ashley hugged her tightly.

Please, God, if you are out there, she prayed silently. Please let Shepard be ok. I've lost too many friends already.

Hackett looked both tired and grim as he stepped in the door of the Seattle's mess. Being as the Seattle was a cruiser with a very sizable crew, the mess was no dainty affair. His eyes searched over the tables before he spotted what he was looking for.

Chief Williams saw him at the same moment he saw her. Rising from the table, she put a hand on the asari's arm lightly before leaving her in the company of Chakwas and Garrus. As she drew near to Hackett she straightened and saluted.

He lifted his arm, returning the gesture, then nodded. "At ease, Chief."

"Admiral sir, I was not expecting to see you," Williams stated.

"I arrived about an hour ago to see to the situation," he replied. "I have already debriefed Moreau in the infirmary."

"Is…Jeff ok?" she asked.

"According to the medics he'll be just fine…a few minor fractures and bruises, nothing he can't handle," Hackett replied. "I already have a report from the Seattle's captain regarding the intel gathered so far on the attack. I was hoping Moreau would have more information about the ship that hit the Normandy."

"Sir, I thought it was the geth."

"Apparently not," Hackett answered. "Any scans and readings went down with the Normandy but according to your pilot, the hostile was a dreadnought of incredible size, with a weapons system the Alliance has only ever encountered once before."

Before she could ask he held up a hand. "It did not match Sovereign, he was very sure of that. It was not a Reaper, however the weapons were very similar, almost identical to what that machine used to decimate the Citadel fleet. A type of magnetohydrodynamic attack…basically a stream of molten metal accelerated to near the speed of light. Incredibly destructive. "

She nodded, then lifted her chin slightly, taking a deep breath. "Sir…Commander Shepard, sir. Did Jeff…have we located her yet? Do we know what happened?"

Hackett sounded weary as he responded, "Chief, Commander Shepard was killed in the line of duty."

Ashley's jaw tightened and she looked down a moment, before she nodded and straightened, meeting his eyes. "Can you tell me how it happened, sir?"

"According to Joker she managed to get him into the lifeboat before an explosion compromised her magnetic locks. She managed to manually launch the pod before the atmospheric barrier failed and the helm explosively decompressed. When I heard his report I checked the readings from the helm pod's short-distance scans. It reads Commander Shepard's suit vitals for roughly six minutes, showing a dramatic loss of oxygen pressure, before her vitals hit the line. Her suit was compromised, Chief…probably in the same blast that threw her into space to begin with."

He straightened a little, clasping his hands behind his back. "The wreckage was pulled into the planet's gravity. I have the captain scanning the attack site but I do not hold out any hope that we will recover her. I am…deeply sorry, Chief. The Alliance…we've all lost a damn fine marine, a good soldier, and a good friend. Shepard was a hero, and she will be honored as such."

"I understand sir," Ashley murmured softly. "Thank you, sir."

"The recovered Normandy crew will be transferred over to the Nova Scotia in the next three hours, and taken back to Alliance space for full treatment and debriefing."

"Understood, sir," she replied, and then saluted again. He mirrored it, nodded slightly as she turned and walked back through the mess toward the table that held her crew-mates. Hackett watched silently as the other three looked up at her. She drew to a halt, and he could see she was speaking though he could not hear the words.

After a moment Chakwas covered her mouth, Vakarian lowering his head and closing his eyes. T'Soni shook her head, half rising as she seemed to say something angrily…and then just crumpled into a sob. Williams caught her, helping her to sit again as the asari broke down.

Clearing his throat, Hackett lowered his gaze, then closed his eyes for a moment of respectful silence, before he turned and walked out.

The sky to the north was still a brilliant blue, deepening slowly toward sapphire and navy, and finally into vibrant pink and gold at the south. It seemed sunsets on Torfan lingered forever. Liara certainly felt she had been standing here for days, even weeks of time.

Her blue eyes reflected the softly dancing flame, watching its lazy motion, its slow shiftings. It sprouted from the block of polished white marble, covered from the elements by a pagoda of similar white marble. Over the doorway gold letters had been sunk into the stone. Three dignified, unobtrusive ranks of letters. They read:

In Memoriam

Commander Delilah S. Shepard

Integrity, Loyalty, Vigilance

In front of the block, below the eternity flame, were bundles and bundles of flowers, some small stuffed items or trinkets. They had been left by the ranks of grievers and well-wishers that had filed all day into and out of this place. The crowds had dissipated, however, ushered off by security, by marines, as the day waxed late. They had left Liara alone. Captain Anderson had asked them too.

No. He'll be Councilor Anderson in only two days, she thought idly. The Council actually listened to you this time, Shepard.

A slow mix of grief and anger trembled her hands at that thought. Not that Anderson was being elected to the Council, marking yet another landmark for humanity…but that the Council hadn't listened to Shepard before, that they had tuned out her every warning, treated her as if she were crazy, unreliable.

If they had just listened, the Citadel would never have been attacked. The Normandy would never have been attacked. If they had just listened, so many people would still live. You would have lived. You wouldn't have left me here…

The dancing flame blurred, first doubling and then trebling, its golden light scattering in the embrace of tears. Liara closed her eyes, feeling them spill down her cheeks…just more shed in the wake of countless others.

"Well, she wouldn't have liked this at all."

The voice, unexpected, startled her. Swiping at her face, Liara turned around, blinking dumbly.

The human woman standing in the door of the memorial was older, short hair going liberally to gray. She had a careworn face, lined deeply in several places, and a no-nonsense stance that was only enforced by a good deal of plump.

"I…I'm sorry?" Liara asked, confused. The park should have been closed. Anderson and his marines were guarding it. No one should have gotten in without their permission.

"This," the woman repeated, gesturing at the room in general. Her brows were knit, eyes reddened but dry. Stepping forward, she shifted her gesture to the mass of flowers, cards, and stuffed animals. "All of this. There's no booze, for one. No pool tables. Jazz should be playing. Smoke filling the air, people picking fist-fights…"

Turning she suddenly pointed at Liara as if the asari had spoken. "A bar!" she announced with a smile. "That's what she would have liked. Not this fluff. If the Alliance had named a bar after her, that would have been better."

Liara looked baffled, blinking once. Then her expression cleared a little and she inclined her head. "Forgive me," she said softly. "I should have recognized you the moment you entered. You are-"

"Nancy Salgado," the woman said, stepping over and taking Liara's hands as if they were decades-old friends, just reunited. "And you, my dear…you are Tianlán."

Hearing Shepard's nickname for her cut her lightly across the soul, and she could only manage a weak nod. Nancy gave her hands a soft squeeze. "Come on," she said gently. "Let me buy you a drink. Del wouldn't hang out in this place anyway…let's see if we can't find her."

The bars in Torfan's Robertson colony were nowhere near as dingy or secluded as those Shepard had favored in New York, but that was all right. Nan found a small blues club and within an hour the pair of them were nursing their third round of drinks, half-lost in clouds of cigarette smoke as they listened to the music.

Nancy had been right. Liara could almost feel Shepard here, shifting along with the smoke, moving through each note of music. The sensation both comforted and pained her.

"I…I should probably give this to you," she murmured, drawing a piece of paper from her pocket. "I'm…not even sure why I grabbed it in the chaos but…"

She trailed off with a vague shake of her head. Unfolding the paper delicately, as if it would crumble to ash at the slightest breath, she laid it flat and turned it toward the human woman. Nancy's brows knit and she inclined her head as she picked it up.

"Oh…I haven't seen this in…in so long," she murmured. On the paper a pair of figures rendered in bright, cheerful crayon clasped hands happily. Spelled out almost painstakingly in sunshine yellow were the words 'To Del. Bestust Buds.'

As she touched the figures, she looked up at Liara. "Paul drew this for her. My son…he thought she was the most wonderful thing since sliced bread."

"She told me," Liara replied softly. "She loved Paul. She…she blamed herself so much for what happened to him."

"I know," Nan nodded, tears glossing her eyes. "She was always so hard on herself. She was so determined to make everything better. She just could not understand that sometimes, you just couldn't control what happened."

Covering her lips a moment she then put her hand over the figures on the paper. "My precious babies, God rest you both," she whispered, and then slid the drawing back over to Liara.

"I think you should keep this," she said.

"I…no, this belongs to you-"

"Psh. I'm an old, scatter-brained woman, darling. It'd end up lost in some dusty old trunk somewhere. Please, I want you to keep it. They both deserve to be remembered for a very long time. Better your centuries than my mere decades."

Liara gingerly folded the drawing again, tucking it away. Like hundreds of wayward, troubled human children off the streets of New York, Liara discovered that Nancy was very easy to talk to. She was patient, loving…never once condescending or patronizing or aloof. As the night went on, and as the alcohol flowed more copiously, Liara found herself weeping miserably as she told the human woman things she never would have dreamed of sharing with any other near-total stranger…things she wouldn't have shared even with Ash, or Kaidan.

"I just feel so…so lost, torn…like part of me has been ripped away," she sniffled. "And yet I am…I am so angry…"

"Angry because she left you," Nancy murmured her understanding. "Angry because she didn't listen to you."

"Yes! Why did she have to stay? She always had to look out for her crew…why couldn't she have just looked out for herself for once? She should have left Joker there if he was so dead-set on staying! I…I hate him so much! It's his fault she stayed behind!"

Even as she said it, she knew she did not mean it…and she knew that Nancy knew she did not mean it. She didn't really hate Joker, didn't really wish he had died with the Normandy…she was just mad at him, furious that he'd done what he did, and that Shepard had paid the price for it.

Anger…real anger, like this...the kind that burned and seemed to swell in your mind in a flaming heat…this was not an emotion that Liara was used to. It made her sick to feel it.

"If Del had been capable of just looking out for herself like that, she wouldn't be the Del that we both loved," Nancy said calmly. Her eyes were damp but her grip on Liara's hand was steady, comforting.

"I…I-I know. I just…I do not know what I am going to do. I just want her back. I just want to stop hurting."

Moving her chair over a little, Nancy enveloped Liara in a warm, soft, jasmine-scented hug. Comforting the asari, the woman closed her eyes, ignoring the traces of her own tears that slowly worked through the lines on her cheeks. "I know you do, sweetheart. I do too. But this pain isn't what she'd want either. Oh, you are a kind darling aren't you? I can see why she loved you so much."

Sitting back a little with a faint sniff, Liara wrinkled her brow as she regarded the woman. "I…she never said," she replied almost timidly. "Did she-"

"Tell me? Oh no. But I knew that girl better than she knew herself. I saw the vids…that salute after your Mama passed, during the awards ceremony after the Citadel…you may not have noticed but in that one she kept lookin' your way, seeking you out in the audience. She hated ceremony like that…you were her anchor to get her through. And I heard the way she talked about you last time she called. Didn't say much but I could hear it in her voice. That girl loved you. More than she probably loved anything in this whole sorry universe…and that includes me and Paul."

"Oh, n-no, I don't think-"

"She did," Nancy stated matter-of-factly, with an understanding smile. "And that's all right. That's the way it should be. I'm grateful to you, sweetheart. I'm so thankful for that. Del had so much pain growing up. The lovely things of life were denied to her for so long…I didn't think she'd ever open up that much to anyone, ever really connect with another soul. I am so grateful to you that she didn't leave us, never knowing what that was like."

It was nearing dawn when the two women finally stepped out of the bar, hands clasped. As a taxi slowed to stop Nancy paused.

"You sure you don't want to ride back with me? I don't mind sharing the cab."

"No, thank you," Liara murmured. "I have my own car waiting to take me to a shuttle to the moon station. Captain Anderson has been…beyond kind in all of this. Are you staying on Torfan long?"

"Oh, no. I have to be getting back to the colony. Lord knows they'd be lost without me. You? Are you heading home to Thessia?"

"No, not…not quite yet. I have some business I have to attend to first, on Omega. I…need to keep myself busy. But…soon, I suppose."

Nancy nodded, then hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad I got to meet you, sweetie," she whispered. "I just wish it was under happier circumstances."

As she released the asari she smiled affectionately. "Call me any time. And if you are ever in the Terminus and want a good old-fashioned home-cooked colony meal, you look me up. You are welcome any time."

"Thank you, Nan. I will do that."

She watched silently, wearily, as the human woman climbed into the cab, the vehicle lifting and then whisking her away. Reaching into her pocket she unfolded the crayon drawing again, touching her fingers lightly to the bigger figure, before a voice cleared behind her.

"Ma'am?" the marine private murmured politely. "The car is waiting."

I miss you, Del. Please…if you are out there anywhere…if you can hear me somehow, please…help this pain to stop. Help me to stop missing you…

"Ma'am? The shuttle to the moon is leaving in just twenty minutes. You don't want to miss it."

"No, I do not," she replied, folding the picture up again and sliding it back into her pocket. "Thank you."

THREE WEEKS LATER

The capsule glided smoothly over the polished deck, the anti-grav unit at its base barely humming as it moved, guided by three men in black and white fatigues. The asari who followed it looked ragged, tired…her sleeve torn and her eyes sunk into dark blue hollows.

As they neared the interior station door, it whisked open to reveal a dark-haired, stunningly beautiful woman. "Good," she noted in an unmistakably Australian accent, her blue eyes gleaming as she saw the capsule. "Take it into the main laboratory."

"Wait," the asari interjected. "Just for a moment."

The woman arched a brow, looking at her. "Dr. T'Soni, it's best if we evaluate the condition of the remains as quickly as possible."

"I-I know, I just…I just want to see her. Just once. Please."

"She's hardly going to be pretty-"

"You know what I've done, how hard I fought, to find her and get her here!" Liara retorted hotly. "You know what was sacrificed. Feron-…please. Lawson, I am giving her to you against my better judgment. I think that the least you can do is let me see her."

Lawson pursed her lips a moment, glancing at the capsule thoughtfully a second, before commiserating. "Very well. But not out here. We don't dare open the capsule until we're in the clean room."

She directed the men forward, following behind with T'Soni.

They entered the main laboratory's clean room, everything so stark white and gleaming it looked unreal. Nodding to the escorts, the woman directed them to unfasten the environmental controls and unlock the capsule.

"You'll only have about thirty seconds before we have to move her into the lab proper," she warned the asari. "Out of the controlled environment cellular decomposition will resume, and only cause more damage to the body."

"I understand," Liara replied solemnly. Reaching out herself, Lawson input the final command into the capsule controls, and the seam in the middle of the lid began to widen. A hiss of gasses escaped, carrying a breath of artificial winter in their wake. Fogging in the slightly warmer temperature of the clean room, the gasses pooled and wafted about their feet.

As the lid fully opened, the mist clearing, Liara steeled herself and stepped forward, looking within.

The form within was badly burned, garbed in melted chunks of plastic and metal that was only in certain places recognizable as a marine's hard-suit. Liara could see the dirty, scuffed and scorched N7 insignia on the breastplate.

What flesh could be seen was blackened, cracked, showing deeper glimmers of brown and crimson and the occasional nicotine-yellow of smoke-coated bone.

The figure didn't even lay in one piece. Its arms were severed and neatly placed on either side of it, ragged edges marking where they had been ripped free and cooked with heat. The right leg still was attached but the left was missing from mid-thigh up, part of a cracked, gray femur visible through the seared meat.

Tears welled in Liara's eyes, but her face remained stoic as she took in the sight, her eyes travelling to the helmet. The faceplate was cracked, half-shattered. What remained of it was opaque with soot and smoke damage. Beneath it lay only shadow, the vague hint of shape. Forcing herself to step closer, she covered her mouth and then lowered her hand, determined to see.

From the new angle, enough light shed through the jagged faceplate and she saw the ominous grin of teeth. Lips, cheek, and most of the nose was sheared away and incinerated. It was not that macabre smile, however, that finally undid her.

Somehow, by some miracle, the helmet had protected a small part of the face from burning. Still the pale of dead flesh, a section remained almost perfect. From cheekbone to eyebrow and encompassing part of the nose, a swath was completely intact. A single, half-lidded brown eye, foggy and dull with death, stared up, past the asari and into the unknown.

Covering her mouth again, she barely restrained a sob as she turned away from the sight. Lawson nodded and silently waved the men into the main laboratory. She did not follow, but made no move to touch or comfort Liara. After a moment, the young doctor recovered herself, sniffing faintly as she straightened. "You can bring her back?" she whispered.

"We will do everything we can," Lawson replied. "But I can promise nothing. The remains are…well, you saw for yourself. Even if we are able to proceed it will be slow…likely years. Even then, we may not succeed. This is hardly familiar territory."

Liara nodded. When she turned her head her blue eyes were storm-colored steel.

"Just…you just bring her back to me. Just bring her back!"