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Blue: Iris: Four

Shepard was across the infirmary in several long steps, moving with such speed that she left the rest of the command crew gaping in the doorway. She neared the bed where, sandwiched between her palms, the snarling, ebon-eyed asari was doing...something...to Specialist Traynor.

It didn't look pleasant.

The young human woman had staggered to one knee- her scream of agony cut off, but her mouth still hanging open. Moving at a flat run, Shepard raised one fist to bring down in overhand smash right on the crest of the blue skinned female. Skin tightened across rough knuckles, teeth grit in anticipation of the shock; the fist whistled through the air with all the strength and fury of outrage and vengeance -

Traynor flung herself across the asari, crying out, "Stop!"

- stopping the blow centimeters from smashing right between the specialist's large brown eyes.

Shepard froze. "Specialist, are you- what the hell-"

Traynor's eyes nearly crossed staring at the fist a hairsbreadth from her. She was pale, her normally chocolate colored skin the wretched hue of tea with too much milk added. Mottled spots along her cheeks showed where blue fingers had pressed cruelly into delicate flesh.

"P-please, Commander," she stuttered. "Just...don't. Please."

The asari writhed beneath the young crew member, black eyes still gleaming. Mewling cries seeped from between clenched teeth, and a trickle of dark blood ran from her lower lip, where canines had torn into the soft flesh. Her hands, no longer grasping at Traynor's face, clenched and unclenched, vainly pulling, twisting at the bed sheets.

Shifting her attention back to the patient, Traynor leaned back and pressed the palm of one hand on the asari's forehead. If she noticed how badly her hand was trembling, she made no reaction that Shepard could see.

"Hush," the specialist breathed. "Hush."

Closing her eyes, she visibly gathered herself and, without a trace of accent, began to sing, "Ari naaviye, ari naaviye, feriva usi' naan nanii..."

The words flowed from between her dark lips, not just audibly, but almost curling themselves within Shepard's mind. A sense of heavy, soft comfort carried along with them. The tune was deep, slow, with the tolling grace of ancient, steady and gentle solidity behind it.

Shepard felt a hand at her elbow and glanced over to see Liara, her own blue eyes wide, moving up to stand beside her. Her asari took a moment to gaze upon the sight before her, and then, Shepard felt the shock of a tingle along her neck where her hairs were standing up, Liara joined Traynor in song.

Echoing the words a half measure behind Traynor's, Liara's tune was a high and elegant counterpoint. It triggered imagined vistas in Shepard's mind of mountain creeks, shallow and fast, with cool, water gurgling and bubbling pleasantly as bright sunlight shone off rocks just beneath the surface. All around, reflections of lights danced and bobbed off the thick, strong trunks of a mighty forest. If Liara's harmony was the creek, the specialist's melody was the forest itself; rooted, strong and old, but vibrant in life, knowing for centuries the burbling of the tiny stream and the pattern of the wind through the branches overhead. Spring and forest, root and wind, water and sun- each a separate piece of something greater, each nothing at all without the other.

"Ari-"

"Ari-"

" naaviye-"

"Ari-"

"Ari-"

" naaviye-"

"Feriva usi' naan nanii."

Their voices sang in harmony for the last words, holding their respective, contrasting notes for a beat, a moment, a forever... only to fade away, leaving Traynor still kneeling beside the bed and Shepard standing with Liara beside her. The only sign of her true feelings the tight, near painful grip she had on her human's elbow. Between them, the as of yet unnamed asari was asleep. Features that had been twisted in the grip of terror were now relaxed and, in the peaceful act of rest, beautiful and innocent. Steady and strong breaths whispered in and out as her chest rose and fell. Wordlessly, Traynor stood up, gently tugged the blanket from out underneath blue arms, and pulled it up to the asari's chin, smoothing it out in the same motion. Then, she leaned forward, brushing her lips across the asari's forehead.

Liara stepped around Shepard. "You surprise me, specialist," she said quietly. "I was unaware that you spoke any of the dialects of asari or knew of our bedtimes songs."

"What-" Shepard started, but shut her mouth after Liara shot her a 'look'.

Traynor looked up and stared at Liara for a moment before her gaze flickered between Shepard and Liara.

She blinked.

Stared at them a few more seconds.

Blinked again.

"I..." her voice drifted away.

Then, "I don't...I don't speak..." the words came out slowly.

Finally, she smiled at them. A small thing. Cute and secretive. A five year old girl's smile who has, for the first time in her life, a secret, "but I don't speak asari, Liara."

And then-

Traynor fell to her knees, lunged under the nearby desk and clawed madly for the stainless steel garbage can before vomiting into it. She fell over onto her side, hugging her knees to her chest, one hand clasped over her stained mouth in an attempt to stifle the gasping sobs being wrenched from her.

"Traynor!" Liara cried.

"The hell?" Garus shouted.

Shepard was next to the specialist instantly. "Traynor what's-"

"Let me," Liara interrupted, moving to embrace the younger woman. Pulling Traynor into her arms, Liara began to rock gently back and forth. Shepard carefully nudged the can with its contents out of reach and possible accidents before crouching down in front of Traynor and Liara; the former with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, tears streaming down her cheeks making them shine in the harsh, white light.

"Traynor," Shepard repeated quietly.

"Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, ohgodohgohdohgohdohgohdohgod," [ the specialist chanted from between clenched fingers.

"Hey," Shepard said, snapping her fingers in front of the younger woman's face, "I need you to tell me-"

Traynor's sobbing shut off, her features twisted like someone had flipped a switch in her head labeled 'terrible grief' over to 'murderous rage'.

"You have no idea what they did to her!" Her brown eyes flashed as rage fire burned within. "Tell me you're going to kill them!"

"Promise me." Her lips curled around each word in a vicious snarl, and despite the fact that Traynor was whispering, Shepard could plainly hear the absolute hatred drowning every syllable.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, specialist," Shepard replied, not breaking eye contact. She noticed idly that Liara had shifted her grip so, if necessary, her embrace of comfort could become a grip of containment. "And I'm not about to make a promise that could wind up being murder."

Traynor shifted her attention to Liara, looking up at the asari still holding her beseechingly. "Liara, please- they have to pay. Make Shepard-"

Liara cut off the specialist's words with two fingers on her lips. "I cannot force the Commander to do anything." She stared into the young woman's too large eyes, dilated to the point where the darkness was nearly swallowing all else, "and that is not the issue now. You must breathe."

"But-" Traynor insisted.

"Those are not your memories, specialist," Liara cut her off again. "They were forced upon you. Build a wall in your mind. Remember that you are remembering someone else's experiences."

"But you don't understand what they did to her!" Traynor cried.

"Who are 'they'?" Garrus said, crouching down next to them.

"Marauder!" Traynor screamed, and with a speed born of panic, her clenched fist whistled toward the turian's face.

Garrus caught the blow without blinking.

"So 'they' were The Reapers," he said without any change in inflection. "That's one question answered. The next one being: What is it The Reapers did to the asari over there." His voice took a harder edge. "The asari who is not you, specialist."

Traynor's mouth sagged open, then shut again. She swallowed convulsively. "Garrus I-"

"It's all right," Garrus interrupted He gently held her fist between his two palms. "Now listen to Liara. Do that mental wall thing, all right? I enjoy your company far too much to have to worry about a punch to the face every time you step into a room."

"Okay." Traynor's attempt at smile was closer to a caricature, "okay,"

She closed her eyes. "It's...it's not memories exactly," she said, and inhaled slowly.

"Deeper, yes?" Liara asked. "Experiences, feelings."

"Not mine, though."

"No, specialist," Liara agreed, "not your own. Now, tell us about them."

"So many, though," Traynor almost whined before gathering herself. Clambering to her feet, she moved to the chair and slumped to it, resting her elbows on her knees, fingertips rubbing at her temples. The others waited in silence, Shepard's quiet impatience obvious in how she was reflexively clenching and releasing her fists.

"Fear and despair," Traynor said slowly. "Those are the most powerful feelings. She's...she's watching Thessia burn. Through a window on one of the few transports that did get away from the planet's surface, and then-"

The young woman's features twisted with a shudder. "Everything goes red, terror, and now she's trapped in a glass tube. She doesn't know where. All she can see is a marauder standing in front of her. After that... this litany in my head. Pain, horror, grief. She can see other asari trapped like she is on the other side of a room. Some are screaming, pounding. Some are curled into balls, weeping. One of them has clawed so much that her fingers are leaving bloody streaks across the glass. And she," Traynor indicated the asari on the bed nearby, "she wanted her mother."

Then, Traynor's eyes glazed over slightly. "Nenna." A pause. "That's what her mother called her. Nenna. Her mother put her on the transport, promised to be on the one coming right behind their own. Whispered into her ear, 'be strong my Nenna'. Closed the shuttle hatch and that's the last she saw of her."

Another shudder racked the specialist. "She spent a lot of time begging her mother to save her, the rest of the time asking for forgiveness because she didn't think she could be strong anymore. "

Traynor fell silent, hugging herself slightly.

The listeners glanced at each other. Though years gone, the horrors of The Reaper War were stories they were familiar with in one way or the other.

"Traynor, did, uh...Nenna...have any idea what the Reaper's were doing? Why they wanted all these asari?" Shepard asked gently.

The other woman stopped rocking with a grimace. "No," she said after a time. "Not at first. All...all I can stand..." Traynor gasped, then grit her teeth. Strangling sounds came from between lips, pressed together so tightly that the blood was drained from them.

Liara moved to intervene, but the other woman thrust out a hand. "No!" she commanded, "don't...I..." Her features relaxed, she took a deep breath, and said, "Needles. Drugs...moments of consciousness and pain separated by darkness. One moment in the tube, the next strapped to a table, and she can see metal arms moving around her, arms that end in blades that are dripping...dripping...dripping with blood, her blood, but she can't, she doesn't...she can't feel anything."

Traynor rubbed at her eyes with the palm of one hand. "And the same memory, or... things... half thought, half experience. She keeps looking down at herself and when she does- God, terror. Just terror...like red thunder, sheets of red pound at her, at me, she's staring at her hands and- God!"

She fell silent, her forearms resting on her knees as she stared at the palms of her own hands. No one said anything, giving the young woman space, time, moments to finish what she had begun. There was no solace that could be offered, no way to undo harm, unmake events... so they waited.

Traynor took a deep breath, watching tears shatter on her skin, watching how the tiny imperfections and blemishes of her palms made it impossible to predict which way the droplets would flow, or how some of the smaller motes would cling to the sides of her hands in defiance of gravity.

"Every time she woke up, there were fewer asari in the other tubes...and..." The specialist's expression creased, her eyebrows knitted in concentration, "once...I think once...she saw an asari being taken away. The one who had been imprisoned next to her. She was...she was blank. Shuffling away, escorted by her own marauder. I knocked- I mean, Nenna knocked on the glass and the other asari looked at her...looked through her. There wasn't anything left. That's when we...she...Nenna...started praying to the Goddess to let her die. I can feel her prayers, whispered in the dark. She wanted it, ached for it, pleading with every piece of faith for everything just to stop."

Traynor laughed bitterly through a mask of tears. "That obviously didn't happen," she said, wiping away a rivulet of snot with the back of her hand.

"I think that's enough-" Liara began, but again, the young woman cut her off.

"I can finish," Traynor insisted. She placed her hands on her lap, and everyone pretended not to notice how badly they were shaking. "I have to finish, I ...I have to get them out, get the...stuff Nenna put in my head out!"

Shepard shifted her weight awkwardly, shoving away her impatience in a old and familiar inner conflict. "Go ahead, crewman," she said on instinct. "You're doing fine."

Traynor shot her a grateful half-smile. "Aye, ma'am," she said, seeming to take strength from the routine of subordinate to superior. She took a breath then another and, clenching her fists, continued, "It's dark, she's sleeping and she hears humming, it's a song she's familiar with- she'd heard it before in vids, so she opens her eyes. Hope, she...Nenna...felt hope because as she woke up someone was holding her, cradling her head and humming that gentle song. Just for a moment..." Traynor retched suddenly, lunging off her chair she grabbed the waste bucket, stomach heaving. Dry wracking coughs echoed through the infirmary as the young woman's empty stomach attempted to dredge up remnants of its last meal.

Liara moved to stand. "Don't!" Traynor commanded, gasping. She wiped at her mouth with the back of one fist. "Going to get it out...have to. Where ...where was I?"

Hesitantly, Liara said, "Nenna could hear a song."

"Oh," Traynor said, and her eyes glazed over. Shepard's breath hissed between bared teeth. Then, in a flat voice, Tryanor recited, "Nenna looks- looked up; she was being held. Embraced. It was so warm, and she looks up to what she thinks is her savior, that the goddess has found her and the monsters are gone. For a moment, she imagines she'll see her mother and everything will be alright. Everything will be all right again. Then she opens her eyes. Then she sees."

Traynor's body was wracked with a fierce shudder, "The asari she has...had seen earlier, the blank one is looking down at her, smiling at her...humming to her... Nenna can see black eyes looking down at her, and the other asari is smiling. She's smiling and says...and she says..." The specialist's blank gaze flicked off like a switch. Her eyes, now horribly aware, caught Liara's.

"She said, 'Embrace Eternity'."

Traynor's eyes rolled back, and she sagged sideways out of the chair. Shepard lunged forward and barely caught her before the young woman hit the ground.

"Get her-" Liara's voice rang out.

At the same time, Shepard shouted, "EDI I need a full-"

And both froze, their words caught in their throats as a tiny, tiny voice, like that of a child's, keened out of the other wise unresponsive Traynor, still being held by Shepard. "Mother," the voice said. "Mother she's...they're inside me, Mother. She's inside me, inside my mind. Make her get out, Mother...they're riding her. They're coming in with her. Mother...Mama? I can't...I can't...I can't..."

"No!" Shepard roared, her attention focused to Liara, "can't you do something?"

Her asari only had time to shake her head when-

"Mama, I think I'm gonna have a baby."

Then there was an awful silence, heavy, pressing down on Shepard's chest. The specialist shuddered in her arms, eyelids flickering. A moment, another, and then Traynor eyes flickered back into focus. Groaning, she held a hand to her forehead. "Never thought I'd miss hangovers," the younger woman mumbled.

"Traynor? You back with us?" Shepard asked.

The young woman's eyes gazed around the room. For a brief moment, she looked at each of them - first up at Shepard, who still held her. Then, her gaze swept past Liara and, after lingering for a moment, moved on to Garrus. Finally, she stared at the bed where the patient still lay, unconscious, oblivious...innocent.

"Commander," Traynor said slowly, enunciating each syllable carefully, "please let me up."

"That might not be wise," Liara said. "You have been through-"

Traynor raised a hand, cutting off the other woman. "I'm fine. Please, Commander, let me up. She'll be waking up soon, she'll be needing someone."

Without much apparent effort, Shepard placed the specialist back on her feet, helping her maintain her balance with a firm grip on her shoulders. "You alright?"

Traynor nodded wearily. "Yes...I … excuse me for-" She brushed Shepard's hands aside and moved next to the bed where, still asleep, lay the young asari called Nenna. Without paying the rest of them any attention Traynor pulled a chair beside the bed, sat down, and took one of the patient's hands between her own.

Garrus spoke first. "That was...fairly horrible."

"She bounced back quick," Shepard added. "She really going to be okay?"

Liara was hugging herself, a slight shifting of her weight from one foot to the other the only indication of any discomfort. "I do not know. The type of bond 'Nenna' thrust upon the specialist is a defensive gesture. An attempt to overwhelm an enemy so as to flee. It is from ancient asari history, a throwback- like a modern soldier blindly grabbing a rock as an improvised weapon. Savage."

"Bash someone with a rock, and they're probably not going to be all right," Garrus replied. "This is a bit more vague."

Liara could only shrug. "She seems all right for the moment. Perhaps I can find a contact through my network. In the meantime, all I can suggest is keeping an eye on her."

"And what about this breeding program?" Garrus added, pressing on despite Liara's shudder. "It doesn't make any sense because, and correct me here if I'm wrong, but The Reapers were very big on the whole galactic genocide thing. Breeding a species they're trying to slaughter outright seems a bit counter-productive."

A sick feeling settled in Shepard's stomach. Memories flashed, a monastery, the enemy, two daughters, terrible but necessary choices. Shepard breathed, "Ardat Yakshi."

Garrus got it. "Oh," he said. "Oh shit."

"No," Liara said firmly, "that is not- I cannot believe-"

"It makes sense," Garrus insisted. "The Reapers can't just turn any asari into those screaming shock troops. They had to be Ardat Yakshi. So that means this base was not a breeding camp..."

"It was a weapons factory," Shepard finished.

"But why?" Liara cried, "Why would Black Hand be here?"

Shepard gritted her teeth as conclusions leaped into her mind, part of her hating how they came so easily, so matter-of-factly as they were the best possible solutions based on tactics and strategy. "Two...two possibilities," she hedged. "Either the asari government knows about this place and Black Hand is acting as wardens or...you said Black Hand is inspired by that asari supremacist, right? What if Black Hand found this place... perhaps they want to," she shuddered. "Liara, I'm sorry, but what if they want to continue The Reapers' work?"

Garrus stared across the room at Nenna and her guardian, his eyes flat and unblinking. "That would explain why the pregnancies have not been terminated and the prisoners released."

No one said anything for a time, their thoughts spiraling off each on their own, compounding horror upon horror. Logic, strategy, the circumstances, the facts, added up to a thing of nightmare.

"Excuse me," Liara said in quiet, calm voice. "I have to go." She was not two steps out the door before a halo of biotic fury had snapped around her like a second, snarling skin of blue rage. Shepard moved to pursue when Nenna came awake with a shriek.

"You can't have her!" were the words shrieked across the medbay as young asari came off the bed. She stared around wildly, caught one look at Traynor, paralyzed by the sudden noise, and her blue lips curled back in a snarl. "No one hurts her," she gurgled, her words choked off by rage. One hand came up in a claw, wreathed in blue fire to strike. Seeming to teleport across the room, Garrus leaped forward, grabbed the asari's wrist, and slammed it down.

"Shepard!" he cried, "her other hand!" He was using both arms to hold the young asari down.

Traynor was holding on now, but the patient possessed a bezerker's strength, and was tossing the young woman around like a rag doll. Shepard grabbed the asari's other wrist, adding her strength to Traynor's and between the two of them, they were able to pin Nenna's arm down as well.

"Get off of me!" screamed the asari, "Don't- you can't- I won't let you!" and other protests were torn from the woman's throat as she bucked and heaved, trying to free herself, trying to fight, trying to protect her child.

"Nenna!" Traynor cried. "Nenna, stop! You're safe, we won't harm you!" but her words fell on ears deafened by fear and rage until, "you're going to hurt the baby!"

Nenna's gaze snapped to Traynor's face. "Sammy?" she asked in a hushed whisper. "But I thought... I didn't mean... you weren't real...it was just a dream." Her rage melted away, and the young asari's eyes teared over, great wracking sobs now replacing her anger. "Oh goddess, what have I done? I'm so-sorry." Further apologies were interrupted by fresh cries from the asari.

"Huh," Garrus said, still carefully restraining one arm, "she seems apologetic."

"Nenna, I'm all right," Traynor spoke in a hushed voice, her fingertips gently touching the other woman's face. "I'm all right." Over and over, she repeated herself. Shepard sat back, staying quiet, holding onto Nenna's other arm, her grip only slightly relaxed.

"Commander, Operative Lawson reports a disturbance in shutt-" EDI began, but her words were cut off by the woman herself.

"Shepard!" Miranda's snapped, "get down here, Liara is trying to punch a hole in the ship!"

Shepard glanced at Garrus. "Get going," he rumbled. "Traynor and I got this."

Shepard impatiently slapped the 'door open' command, which ignored her. With a snarl, she stepped back from the console as the elevator, unconcerned with any imminent danger, proceeded to descend to the shuttle bay at its own leisurely pace. With a quiet hiss, the door slid open, and Shepard launching herself into the gap with only a hairsbreadth of space. A few crew members were in quiet groups near the back of the shuttle bay, staring at the far end where a deep, ugly bruise colored light was swelling, drowning out the usual glow from the various holographic terminals situated around the room.

"Cortez!" Shepard hissed.

"Here, ma'am." The pilot pushed his way through the small crowd.

"What's going on?"

"It's Ms T'Soni, ma'am. She came down her a few moments ago, carrying a very obvious 'do not fuck with me' air about her."

Shepard glanced to the back of the shuttle bay. The dull light grew a blue tinge, and tendrils of power began to crawl alone the crates stacked against the well; the creak of stressed metal echoed. The dark light also somehow obscured any sign of Liara herself.

"And?" she asked.

The pilot could only shrug apologetically. "What could I do, ma'am? I got the hell out of her way. If James was here, he might have been dumb enough to talk to her."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, but let the thought pass. "Then what?"

Glancing himself at the still growing un-light and the increasing volume of crashing noises, Cortez replied, "Then she moved back there and-"

There was a loud bang.

"Well...that. I got Ms. Lawson on the line and here you are."

Shepard nodded. "Give me the room."

"Aye, aye." Cortez turned to the rest of the crew, cupped his mouth, and shouted, "Listen up, Commander wants the room, people! Let's go get some coffee. Move it!"

In a few moments, Shepard was alone in the bay.

"Liara?" she called in a hushed voice. The blue light surged bright for a brief moment, then settled back to a darkening hue.

She moved slowly toward the front of the shuttle bay, and as she set her foot down on the plating of the floor, tiny arcs of power surged over her armor, almost questing about. In a few more steps, she could make out another figure. Her asari stood still, her feet spread apart, one hand flung outward, fingers apart while with her other she kept wiping away tears that ran freely. Shepard hissed a breath between her teeth when she noted the biotic energy embracing Liara's hand as she used it to wipe her face, leaving arcing trails of fury to seethe, apparently harmlessly, across her face. It made her appear to be weeping lightning.

Hovering in front of Liara, surrounded by a nimbus of shadowy light, was a cargo crate the half the size of a Kodiak shuttle-craft. It whipped through the air in a tight orbit around the black sphere of a singularity, glistening with the reverse side of reality and snarls of white power running across its surface.

With part of her mind screaming at her that she was either brain dead or suicidal, Shepard stepped up behind her asari and embraced her from behind. Liara stiffened in her grip, but other than that, had no further reaction. Glancing at Liara's profile, starkly lit by the convocation of light and shadow, Shepard saw her grit her teeth tightly. In response, the singularity swelled in size and sucked the crate into it, where it began to spin so quickly that it soon became just a large blur.

"You know," Shepard said carefully, softly into Liara's ear, "in a crazy kind of way I felt...believe it or not...a tiny bit sorry for The Reapers."

Power surged, the hair on her neck tingled.

"Here are these amazing examples of technology," she went on, "with lifetimes of literal stars, and they're trapped in their cycle of mass murder. They really were just as stuck as we were, in a sick kind of way. Any possibility for real choice on their part was long, long gone."

Liara wiped away at her eyes again, and a bolt of fury sizzled down one arching curve of her cheek, flowing like quicksilver.

"But this," Shepard murmured, pushing more of herself against her asari, "this is your people, isn't it? Right after the war, so many are dead, and here you've learned that some of them are doing just what The Reapers did...expect they made this choice. Right now."

Liara sniffed. Her throat worked, and the strangled half sob rang in Shepard's ears despite all the sound of biotic storm they were both in the heart of. "Do- do you know h-how many were left?" Liara asked. "How many survived?"

Shepard shook her head.

"Forty-three percent, and of the matriarchs, less than ten."

In the nimbus of the singularity, the spinning crate accelerated. "So few of us left, Shepard. And this... Matriarch," Liara spat the word, "one of our last...doing this...to us!"

The air around the crate began to howl.

"And she seems so proud of herself."

The edges grew a dull red.

"She-she's going to try and kill you."

The howling of tortured air and metal grew to a roar.

"Try and kill us all, take back what she feels is her possession; the child. The children."

Lightning arced along the blur where the crate spun, the edges of the friction heated metal glowing in a counterpoint to the blue fury. Flashes so bright they seared through her eyelids when Shepard blinked. Metal howled, crackling anger expressed in a display of biotic power fueled by grief, pain, outrage and a need for vengeance so powerful that reality was being warped.

The perfect storm.

She could almost imagine it, her lips pulled back in a fierce grin, spinning her asari around, mashing her lips to Liara's; a compulsion born of mutual rage and desire- violence and sex- and it would have been so right. The matriarch of Black Hand deserved killing; a good killing, a righteous killing. The prehistoric bitch stood, not only for something thrust upon the universe born of ancient nightmares, but for one of the oldest false passions of all sentient life:

That they were better than others, and any and all actions to prove that upon the bodies and souls of all others was justified.

And she and Liara would embrace the chance to put these wrong things right- unleashing a power upon Black Hand that would scar the planetoid itself. The two of them, together, leaping right into the jaws of death with no intention of compromise, no plans for peace, no concern for the victims. The two of them, fury and fire, biotic and bullets; totally committed to avenging the lost by killing the guilty as hard and as painfully as possible.

A lot

It would be glorious, a tiny but hungry part of Shepard's mind told her.

But...

Shepard stretchered out her hand and placed it gently on Liara's extended forearm, linking her fingers between Liara's where her asari was still projecting her power to the now hopelessly slagged crate.

"Liara, I-"

"I will not remain behind, Shepard!" she said, her tone a rebuke.

"Wasn't even thinking it," her human assured, squeezing their interlocked fingers. "But don't...

"Don't?"

"Don't get lost," Shepard's tone was plaintive. "You... fuck!" The Commander sighed, her breath hissing from between her teeth. "It was you, I told you already. You were what I heard, what brought me back."

Liara's hushed voice, despite the cacophony, was easily heard. "I know."

"Then we're thrown into this...situation... and I find you down here rewriting reality. So...angry."

"Do not try to stop me, Shepard. They have to-"

"And you should be," Shepard interrupted. "We both should be; everything that's going on, that already happened. God knows we deserve to be at least furious. Just be careful. It's really, really easy to get lost in it. Righteousness, hate... they're so easy. They burn." Shepard's eyes were drawn to the display of Liara's anger ripping the space in front of them into tiny pieces.

"But they'll burn you back," she finished lamely. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't want that."

Shepard swallowed slightly, "Liara...do you remember how you felt...when I died?"

Her asari shuddered. "Why-?"

"And when we were separated after I had to detonate the Alpha relay?"

A fresh surge of power lanced between Liara's outstretched hands.

"And on top of that, your fear right before the final attack on Earth? In that room? Your gift?"

"Why are you doing this?" Liara choked out.

The Commander closed her eyes, pressing on grimly. "Then you find me, I'm still alive, or so you thought. For two years you waited, and I'm fine. We're both fine...and they take it away from us. Again."

"Please...please stop this, Shepard!"

"Do you remember? Say it, Liara. Do you remember?" Her words came out harsh, between lips pulled back over bared teeth.

"Yes! Yes! Of course I do! And now...now on top of what's happening right now? Why...why-"

Shepard gently kissed the side of Liara's neck, a brush, a mere touching of flesh to skin. "That's how I feel. Every moment. All the time, Liara. But I don't lose myself to it. I can't. I won't. Because it would cost me you."

The enraged biotic shook her head, "N-no, that would never- I would never-"

"I know, Liara," Shepard shushed, "But I'd throw myself into a fight I couldn't win and I'd lose you. Or be captured, or arrested, and lose you, or just get so lost in my own hate that I'd become something else and while you'd stay- I'd still lose you. And that's what I don't want you to do; to get lost in the rage."

Her asari swallowed a sob and, lowering her arms, turned in the embrace. Shepard ran her thumb across one blue, tear stained cheek, wiping away the tears, ignoring the slight tingle as biotic energy arced from the tear to her hand.

They were still, the two of them.

Around the two lovers, blue lightning played merry hell with an innocent cargo crate, dancing along its crevices as the singularity still trapped it in midair and spun it about like a giant penny flicked by the hand of a god.

"I...I am okay, Shepard," Liara said.

Her asari took a deep breath, pulling the air in slowly through her nose and letting herself relax into the exhalation rather than force the breath out. She repeated the action a second time, then a third before saying:

"I will be there with you despite the matriarchs' insistence that you come alone."

"Yes."

The crate's maddening spin began to slow.

"And we will do what needs to be done."

"Yes."

The roar of warring biotics quieted down to a mild buzz.

"But no more than that."

"Yes."

The crate now hung in midair, still and silent, the only hint of power now the dim sapphire halo surrounding it and the fact that it was ignoring gravity.

"I love you."

"Yes."

The cooling metal pinged.

"And you love me."

"Yes."

The buzz fell away to an almost inaudible humming, the biotic flames embracing her asari likewise dimming.

"Then-" Liara clenched her fist. Metal screamed as the nearly dormant singularity surged. Its gravity well drew the crate in and squeezed! What had been a crate a meter in length and half that is height hit the deck with a heavy thud. It was the size of a crushed beer can. Liara turned in the embrace and rested her chin on Shepard's shoulder, pulling her Commander against her with her own arms. "- we had best get started."

Her asari pulled away and took a moment to look at her human. In an impulsive gesture, she leaned in and gave Shepard a simple kiss on one cheek before stepping around her and moving toward the elevator. Then, she paused, looking back at Shepard over one shoulder.

"You coming?"

The doors to the elevator hissed open. EDI stood in the middle of the car at a parade rest and acknowledged Shepard and Liara with a nod. "Commander, Liara."

"Was on my way to find you, EDI," Shepard replied. "Have a couple of questions for you. I need some information about this facility's capabilities."

"Certainly, Commander. What is it you wish to know?"

Shepard told the AI.

After a microsecond of hesitation, EDI replied, "That is feasible, though how you'll justify it to Joker..."

Shepard waved the objection off. "He'll love it," she said matter-of-factly.

EDI remained silent for a moment before asking, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, do you have enough information on planetary conditions to give me a reliable weather report for around sunset?" Shepard ignored Liara's raised eyebrow.

Again, EDI's pause was noticeable. "I believe so, Commander."

Shepard grinned.

The hologram of body armor spun a lazy three hundred and sixty degrees, the glow painting her skin a dull orange.

She didn't see it.

Staring through the data, she could only feel. Feel the questions burning within, the anxiety. The bone deadening weariness of putting the bold front forward, for Traynor, for Liara- so they would have the strength to go on because she was pushing them...and who would be there to support-

Shepard shook her head and shoved the thoughts down, down into a deep box that she then tried to bury. Resuming her focus, she selected the specifications she wanted and sent the order down to the armory. There was just enough time for a quick shower before the scheduled departure. Stepping toward the facilities, she reviewed her mental checklist as she pulled her jacket off over her head, not bothering to unbutton it properly.

She had informed the squad of her plan.

The slacks hit the floor.

Chosen her custom ammo.

She stepped out of her underwear.

Gotten the information she needed and altered her strategy.

A careless toss sent the bra skidding across her desk.

Assigned tasks and drilled everyone involved regarding the mission parameters.

The shower door hissed open, and the water came on automatically. She set one foot across the threshold, her skin almost tingling in anticipation of the release hot water would bring.

"Shepard."

The small pistol was swept off the soap dish in a flash and she spun, trigger finger already tightening- and froze.

If it wasn't for the fact that everything below his knees was the surface of her bed, she would have thought he was really there. Despite the strange location, he still held a cigarette in one hand. The smoke from the glowing tip coiled lazily about his head before dissipating.

"I seem to have caught you at a bad time, I apologize," the image of The Illusive Man said.

Shepard replaced the pistol in its place without taking her eyes off him. Then, grabbing a towel off the hook, she covered herself while stepping down the stares.

"What do you want, Harvey?" she asked, sitting on the sofa.

"To answer your question," the image responded.

"My question? What makes you think I have one? Unless you lied about not being able to access my thoughts."

Walking through the bed, the image appeared to sit down on a small leg rest across from Shepard.

"No, I can't, that was no lie. However, I do have a complete profile on your behavior, and what you see, I see - in addition to constant readings on your biology. Your biochemistry has been flooded with anxiety related hormones since this afternoon."

Shepard shrugged a shoulder. "I had to kill someone. It's been a while, that's all."

The Illusive Man waved the answer aside. "Chronologically, yes, but not from your perspective."

"So, what's my question?"

It curled one lip slightly. "How did you know the asari was coming."

Shepard almost held back the shiver. Almost, but not quite.

The image of The Illusive Man stood up and made a show of examining the models in the display case. "When we first...well.. I suppose 'met' will have to do, I informed you of some of the changes that have occurred in your make-up. To summarize, you are simply more aware. Your mind is more adept at receiving and analyzing environmental data. All sentient minds have this capacity to degrees- walking into a room and having an idea of the mood of the occupants is one part contextual, say, a doctor's office or a birthday party, and another part environmental clues on a very subtle level. You receive the same information, but now it is a bit more," he paused, "insistent."

Shepard snorted. "Are you saying 'super senses' in technobabble?"

The hologram poked a finger through the glass case and appeared to be running it along the length of the model of Sovereign. "No. I'm saying you are still fully human...just plus. The same can be said of your physical abilities."

"What about them?"

Its focus moved on to a turian cruiser. "To use your colloquialisms, you have no super-strength or super-speed. However, most sentient life is capable of great physical abilities, yet, to utilize these would cause damage of varying degrees, from muscle strain, torn tendons, all the way up to fatal effects. To prevent this...for lack of a better term that would not be taken as 'technobabble' … there exists a governor of sorts. Or a cut out switch if you like. Only extreme duress or stress supersedes it. People who have moved cars to rescue loved ones, the berserkers of ancient earth, who suffered mortal and incapacitating wounds and yet still fought on."

"And what The Reapers did shut that off?" Shepard asked.

"No, the Cerberus upgrades did that. The Reaper enhancements just pushed it back further, along with endo-skeletal and intramuscular support."

"I...I don't understand."

Finished with its examination of the models, The Copy of the Illusive Man's Image stepped through the model display and the sofa, moving to stand in front of the wall sized aquarium. The blue, shifting light passed through him unimpeded, and he cast no shadow on the floor. "The nanobots will repair the minor damage of daily use and exaggerated use nearly instantly. Monomolecular mesh has been interwoven through nearly every part of your skeleton and internal organs. This acts as both a conduit for the 'bots and as a bracing structure from the normal damage that would ensue. Simply put, Commander, you don't bruise easily."

Shepard did not reply. She laid back on the sofa and passed her hand across her face.

"That being said," the image went on, "you are still very, very human."

"Shut..." Shepard began. Her voice failed her, and she swallowed to find the moisture to speak, "Shut the fuck up."

"My point exactly," It replied. "Only someone as human as you would have such a strong reaction to the fear they no longer were."

Shepard was on her feet and standing in front It in less than the blink of an eye, lips curled in a snarl and a fist clenched ready to let fly- and paused. It locked eyes with her, the cybernetic eyes boring into hers, and without looking away, it raised a hand with deliberate slowness, took an extra long pull on its cigarette- the cherry glowed bright enough to sting her eyes- and exhaled twin plumes out its nose. Then, in a conversational tone, it said:

"You just got to your feet and crossed four meters of space in less than a quarter of a second."

Her fist trembled. It wouldn't stop, she couldn't make it stop. "And- and you're saying a lot of people could do that?"

It pursed its lips. "More or less, if suitably motivated. Though they would, in all likelihood, separate every muscle from their knees, or equivalent organs, shred tendons around every major joint and possibly cripple themselves for the rest of their lives. By the way, how are you feeling?"

Shepard lowered her arm and let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Fine."

It smiled.

She had to restrain herself from trying to hit it.

Turning away, it settled on one end of the sofa, a holograph of a glass of whiskey materializing on the table in front of it. "Anything else you want to know?"

Shepard appeared not to have heard. She was looking down at her hands, studying them as if she'd never seen them before; rhythmically, she clenched them into fists and then opened them again. First the left hand, then right, back to left, right, left right...she stopped. "How do I control it? Them?"

"You already are."

And she hated it. She hated it with a great black sourness that ran through her like contagion. It burned through her, a stream of hate bubbling from some great pit that was inside and around her all at the same time. She hated it like nothing else she had ever known. Her breath hissed from between clenched teeth.

"If I could find a knife sharp enough," she choked out, ignoring the flecks of spittle that arced from her mouth, "I'd cut you out in a heart beat."

If it was offended, it didn't look it. "Why? I've done nothing. You know as well as I do what my purpose is- to monitor and maintain the function of your additions."

"You also said that there's more you don't know."

It held up a finger. "I don't know yet."

"It could mean anything! You could be indoctrinating me from the inside. I could be a time bomb, ready to go off and take everything I love with me. Why wouldn't I hate you for that?" she slumped back, her shoulders hit the glass of the aquarium, and she slid down it, unresisting until her butt hit the floor. Her head slumped onto her knees. "I should have let them fucking vivisect me."

And now The Image of the Illusive Man was sitting beside her. She hadn't seen it move across the intervening space. Being in her head, she supposed it didn't have to. It was examining the tip of its cigarette, appearing fascinated by it. "The full capabilities of my own function I am not yet sure of, Shepard," It said. "But this much I do know- Harbinger did this to you, to us, for a reason."

"Revenge."

It shook its head. "No. What you know of The Reapers should tell you enough that they-"

"You. You're one of them," she insisted.

It mulled that over. "Perhaps," It conceded with a shrug. "But we, or they, did not operate in that manner," a pause, "Commander, you're going to have to trust me."

"Like hell," Shepard snorted.

"We'll leave that, then," It said, "Now, if I may, I have a question."

"Who's Harvey?"

Shepard did not smile at the flicker of surprise on the Hologram's face, but it was a near thing. She contented herself with enjoying the minor victory internally. 'Right next to the nanowire,' a nasty voice hissed in her mind.

"Yes," It said, sounding puzzled.

"Harvey is a character from a movie I like," she said.

"One of your heroes?"

"He's a six foot rabbit that may or may not be real, that may or may not be a symptom of insanity of a man who may or may not be insane or may or may not be the sanest person who ever lived," she chuckled. "I think I know the feeling."

"Do you want me to appear as a six foot rabbit?" It asked dubiously.

"Lord, no," Shepard said, standing up. She looked down at It, still sitting at the base of the aquarium. "I like rabbits."

Again, It appeared puzzled. "Then why call me that?"

It was Shepard's turn to take a moment to think. Had it been a jibe? An attempt at insult? Reference to something of comfort to deal with this...thing? She didn't know, not yet, but an answer occurred to her. She climbed the few stairs to the door of her quarters, which hissed opened obligingly at her approach. "Irony," she tossed over her shoulder.

END- Iris Four

AN: So. Whaddya think? Worth the wait? Massive thanks go out to my beta Rae D. Magdon who smoothed this out like a pro. Wait, why are you reading this? Leave some feedback and then go read Rae's stuff. It's epic.