Chapter Text
The cargo bay doors sealed with a low, echoing thud, the oppressive heat of Therum began to melt away, and the tension still clung to Shepard’s skin. Too close. The sterile, recycled air of the Normandy replaced the thick, sulfurous atmosphere of the volcanic planet, but the adrenaline still coursed through her veins. Too damn close . Shepard took a moment, standing in the cargo bay’s dim lighting, letting the hum of the ship’s engines vibrate under her feet. For a second, she allowed herself to breathe. Another successful mission, but the cost was always lurking in the back of her mind.
Joker’s voice crackled through the comm system, breaking the fragile silence. “That was too close, Commander. Ten more seconds, and we would’ve been swimming in molten sulfur.”
Shepard’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, but her chest still felt tight. “I’ll be sure to avoid landing in volcanoes from now on, Joker,” she replied, her tone steady but wry. Humor was a temporary release, a momentary distraction, but the weight of responsibility was always there, ready to settle back onto her shoulders.
Joker’s chuckle was sharp, but there was a note of relief beneath it. “Much appreciated, Commander. Just for future reference, the Normandy’s sensors tend to fry in lava pits. Volcanic landings? Not our specialty.”
Sarcasm—the last line of defense against panic. Shepard had long appreciated Joker’s ability to crack a joke even when a mission had nearly ended in disaster. He was like that—able to lighten the heaviest of situations with his biting humor. It could have been the end of them, this she knew, but Joker always managed to assuage the anxieties of what didn’t happen that could have killed her and the squad. She glanced over at her team, their armor streaked with dust and sweat, their faces grim yet alive. Alive . Her gaze lingered on Wrex for a moment, his imposing figure towering near the bulkhead, then on Garrus, still meticulously inspecting his rifle. Finally, her eyes landed on Liara, who stood close to the wall, her chest rising and falling in shallow, exhausted breaths.
The young asari’s wide eyes were still filled with shock, her blue skin glistening with sweat. “Your pilot…” Liara’s voice was soft, laced with disbelief. “He makes jokes even after all of that?”
Shepard’s focus shifted to her, assessing the young scientist’s mental state. She’s not used to this. She nodded slowly. “It’s a coping mechanism,” she explained, her voice steady but sympathetic. “You’ll get used to it. Joker? Call the crew for a debriefing.”
Liara blinked, her brow furrowing as if trying to reconcile the human tendency to joke in the face of danger. “I see. It must be a human thing.” She shook her head, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. “I haven’t had much experience with your species, Commander. But... I am grateful. You saved my life back there—not just from the volcano, but from the geth. They would have killed me or… taken me to Saren.”
Shepard studied her for a moment. Liara’s brilliance was obvious—her reputation as an expert in Prothean history was well-earned—but she was shaken, scared. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d been trapped, alone, isolated in those ruins for who knew how long. She gestured Liara and the rest of the crew to the conference area for a debrief. Shepard could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her body trembled from the aftermath of terror and the long hours of tension. She had to handle this carefully. Liara wasn’t a soldier. She was an academic caught in the crossfire of a galactic war.
The Normandy hummed softly as Shepard, along with Garrus, Wrex, Ashley, and Kaidan, sat around the briefing room’s table. The room was dim, only illuminated by the soft glow of the tactical map hovering above the display. It felt intimate—almost too quiet after the chaos of Therum. Liara T’Soni sat nearby, her posture slightly slumped, as though the weight of her recent ordeal pressed down on her. Her blue skin seemed even more pale under the ship's artificial lighting, and her expression was thoughtful, yet tinged with a hint of exhaustion. Shepard could see it in her eyes—the strain of years of isolation, suddenly thrust into a world of violence. How much longer before this world hardens her? Shepard thought. The galaxy does that to everyone, eventually.
Kaiden, thankfully, waited until everyone sat down before digging into Liara, “What does Saren want with you? Do you know something about the Conduit?” His voice was firm, yet not unkind—the typical gravel she’d gotten used to from him.
Liara crossed her arms tightly, almost as if trying to hold herself together. There was fear there, but also confusion—uncertainty . “No, I don’t know anything about the Conduit, only that it’s connected to the Protheans’ extinction. That’s my real area of expertise— However, I’ve spent the last fifty years dedicated to understanding what happened to them. But—I don’t know why Saren would be interested in me. I never imagined I’d be caught up in something like this. ”
“Fifty years? Exactly how old are you?” Kaiden asked, crossing his arms.
“I hate to admit it but I am only 106.”
“Damn—I hope I look that good when I’m your age!” Ashley remarked through a huff of laughter.
Liara, unbothered, continued, “A century may seem a long time for a short-lived species like yours, but among the asari, I am barely considered more than a child. That is why my research has not received the attention it deserves—-because of my youth other asari scholars tend to dismiss my theories on what happened to the Protheans.”
Shepard kept her expression neutral, but her mind raced. Liara was at the center of something monumental, yet she didn’t seem to understand just how deep it went. There was a vulnerability to her, but also a strength. The asari was smart and capable, but the significance of the galaxy’s dangers hadn’t yet hardened her, and it could be dangerous, she thought—the kind of danger that made you hesitate at the wrong moment. “I have my own theory about why the Protheans disappeared,” she started.
Liara’s voice broke, soft at first but gaining strength as she spoke, her words tinged with the same passion Shepard had seen when they first met. “With all due respect, Commander, I’ve heard every theory out there about the Protheans. The problem is finding evidence to support them; the Protheans left remarkably little behind. It’s almost as if someone didn’t want the mystery solved.” Shepard crossed her arms, leaning against the bulkhead as she listened, her eyes studying Liara’s face. She’s smart.
Liara continued, her tone shifting to one of revelation, as though the words had been waiting too long to be spoken aloud. “It’s like someone came along after the Protheans were gone and cleansed the galaxy of clues, but here’s the incredible part: according to my findings, the Protheans weren’t the first galactic civilization to mysteriously vanish. This cycle began long before them.”
Ashley shifted her weight next to Shepard, her brow furrowing. “What cycle? What are you talking about?”
Liara’s eyes flashed with the intensity of her conviction. “The galaxy is built on a cycle of extinction. Each time a great civilization rises up, it’s suddenly and violently cast down. Only ruins survive. The Protheans rose from a single world until their empire spanned the entire galaxy, yet even they climbed to the top on the remains of those who came before them. Their greatest achievements—the mass relays, the Citadel—are based on the technology of those who came before.”
Shepard felt a knot tightening in her stomach. This was bigger than anything she’d imagined. She pushed herself off the bulkhead, her expression hardening. “And then? What happened to them?”
Liara met her gaze, the weight of her words landing like a hammer. “And then, like all the other forgotten civilizations throughout galactic history, the Protheans disappeared.” The room went still, the gravity of her statement hanging in the air. Garrus shifted next to her, the soft click of his armor breaking the silence. “I’ve dedicated my life to figuring out why.” Liara’s voice was quieter now, almost as though the words themselves exhausted her.
Shepard paused for a moment, bracing herself. “They were wiped out by a race of sentient machines—the Reapers.” The images from the beacon on Eden Prime flared in her mind. Machines. Destruction.
“R-Reapers, but I have never heard—how do you know this, what evidence do you have?”
“There was a damaged Prothean beacon on Eden Prime; it burned a vision into my brain. I’m still trying to sort out what it all means.”
Liara’s eyes widened slightly, her scientific curiosity and awe pushing past her exhaustion. “Visions—yes,” she whispered, as though confirming a theory she had long suspected. “That makes sense. The beacons were designed to transmit information directly into the mind of the user. Finding one that still works is extremely rare. No wonder the geth attacked Eden Prime—the chance to acquire a working beacon, even a damaged one, would be worth almost any risk. However, the beacons were only meant to interact with Prothean physiology. Whatever information you received, Commander, must have been confusing and unclear. I’m amazed you were able to make sense of it at all. A lesser mind would have been destroyed by the process. You must be incredibly strong-willed, Commander.”
Shepard blushed, but let the compliment slide. Ashley spoke up before her, frustrated, “Okay, This isn’t helping us find Saren or the Conduit.”
Liara blinked, clearly reining in her scientific enthusiasm. “Of course. You’re right. I—I’m sorry I let my scientific curiosity get the better of me.” Her shoulders slumped a little, and for a moment, she looked so young. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any concrete information that can help you find the Conduit or Saren.”
Shepard stepped forward, her tone firm but not unkind. Liara was a brilliant mind—she could be a valuable ally in more ways than one . “I don’t know why Saren wanted you out of the picture, but I think we’ll be a lot better off if you stick around.”
Liara’s eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude breaking through the exhaustion. “T-Thank you, Commander. Saren might come after me again, and I… I cannot think of anywhere safer than with you… My knowledge of the Protheans could be useful, and I will assist however I can.”
Wrex, standing at the edge of the group, glanced between them, his tone pragmatic, “And her biotics will definitely come in handy when the fighting starts. We could use someone else who can fling the geth across the room.”
Shepard allowed herself a small smile. Wrex always had a way of cutting through the noise. “Good to have you on the team, Liara.”
Liara smiled back, though her exhaustion was clear. “I am very grateful to you all, but…” she swayed slightly, her hand reaching out to steady herself on the nearby console. “I’m afraid I’m feeling a bit light-headed.”
Shepard noticed the way Liara swayed slightly on her feet, a pale tint to her normally, bright blue, vibrant skin. The mission had taken a toll on all of them, but for Liara, the physical and emotional strain was starting to show . Shepard’s eyes narrowed with concern, “When was the last time you ate or slept, Doctor?”
Liara blinked as if she hadn’t thought about it, her brow furrowing. “It—it is probably just mental exhaustion coupled with the shock of discovering the true fate of the Protheans…I need some time to process all this…still, it could not hurt to be examined by a medical professional. It will give me the chance to think things over. A-Are we finished here, Commander?”
“Yes. Dismissed. Dr. Chawkwas is down in the medbay, I can take—”
Joker’s voice broke through the comms once again, interrupting her. “Mission reports have been filed, Commander, and the Council’s on the line. You want me to patch you through?”
Shepard closed her eyes for a moment, pinching her nose, and bracing herself for another round with the bureaucrats. Of course, they want to talk now . She let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of their scrutiny already pressing down on her. “Patch them through, Joker.” Shepard reached out, placing a hand on Liara’s shoulder, her voice softening. “You need to rest. Dr. Chakwas will take care of you.”
Liara nodded, her exhaustion now fully apparent. “Yes… you are right. Thank you, Commander.”
“Garrus, please show Liara to the medbay.”
“On it, Shepard.”
***
Shepard strode through the corridors, her mind churning as she prepared for yet another Council briefing. The anticipation was familiar, a mix of frustration and determination that always coiled tight in her chest before these meetings. Every word, every piece of intel could either push them closer to stopping Saren or delay them in bureaucratic gridlock.
The soft hiss of the comm room doors sliding shut behind her felt like stepping into a battleground. Shepard stood tall as the holographic forms of the Council flickered to life before her. The imposing figures of the Turian, asari, and Salarian Councilors filled the small space, their faces stern and unreadable in the hazy blue light of their projections. The tension thrumming in the air met with the weight of their judgment pressing down on her—every time she spoke with them they found some way to devalue whatever she had to say.
The Turian Councilor was the first to speak, his voice sharp and dismissive, each word carrying a subtle undercurrent of skepticism. “Commander Shepard, we have received your report. I understand Dr. T’Soni is now aboard your ship.”
Shepard’s jaw clenched almost instinctively, a reaction she barely managed to suppress. The knot of frustration tightened, but she forced herself to remain calm, her voice steady. “Yes, that’s correct. She’s on our side. The geth were after her.”
The asari Councilor raised an eyebrow, her expression a delicate balance of disbelief and thinly veiled contempt. “Benezia would never allow Saren to harm her own daughter.”
Shepard resisted the urge to snap back, but the doubt gnawed at her patience. Her pulse quickened, and she fought to keep the rising tide of anger in check. “Maybe Benezia doesn’t know everything. Or maybe there’s more to Benezia than we realize.”
The Salarian Councilor’s sharp gaze fixed on Shepard, his expression clinical, almost dissecting her every word. “At least the mission was successful.”
“Yes, despite the destruction of a significant Prothean ruin,” the Turian added.
The thin veil of control cracked for a moment and her teeth clenched so tightly she thought they might crack. “There were geth all over those ruins. We were lucky to make it out alive.”
The Salarian Councilor’s eyes narrowed, his voice cutting through the air with cold precision. “Of course, Commander. The mission always comes first.” Shepard met his gaze, her eyes burning with a fire held just beneath the surface. Every interaction with the Council felt like a game of survival—a delicate dance of words and restraint, when all she wanted to do was shake them into action. Didn’t they see what was happening? Couldn’t they feel the growing threat hanging like a shadow over everything they held dear? Her entire life, she could only trust one thing—her instincts. They were yet to fail her, and she was confident they’d always be right. Now? Her instincts told her Liara was an ally, and there was a larger threat than Saren—the Reapers.
“Good luck, Commander,” the asari Councilor closed, her tone clipped, almost dismissive as the transmission ended. The holograms flickered out, and the room fell into silence. Shepard stood there for a moment, trying to calm herself down. They didn’t get it. They didn’t see the bigger picture—the sheer magnitude of what was at stake. Saren wasn’t just some rogue Spectre causing trouble in the Traverse. This was bigger, darker, and more insidious than they could fathom—and the Council’s skepticism? It grated on her nerves like nails on steel.
Shepard turned sharply, her boots tapping rhythmically against the metal floor as she strode toward the doorway. Her mind raced, full of a dozen unspoken arguments she wished she’d hurled at the Council. They were stalling, and she didn’t have time for it. Saren was moving faster than they realized. As she reached the door, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko appeared, his expression a mixture of worry and quiet intensity.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice softer than usual. “Commander, do you have a moment?”
Shepard paused, forcing herself to take a breath before facing him. “What is it, Lieutenant?”
Kaidan shifted his weight, glancing around as though the walls themselves were listening. “Off the record, Commander—I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. Saren’s looking for records of galactic extinction events, yet the Council refuses to provide backup. It doesn’t sit right with me.”
Shepard’s brow furrowed as his words mirrored her own gnawing thoughts. Kaidan was right—there was something deeply wrong here. “The Council doesn’t want to believe anything’s wrong,” she agreed, her tone laced with a hint of bitterness. “But what can we do? We’re just one ship against all of this.
Kaidan’s gaze grew more intense, his eyes locking onto hers. “But an organization as old as the Council? You’d think they’d see this coming.”
Shepard let out a dry, humorless chuckle, shaking her head. “You have too much faith in the Council, Alenko. They’re more interested in maintaining the status quo than protecting the galaxy.” She could feel her frustration spilling into her words, the bitterness she’d been holding in beginning to seep through. Calm down, Shepard. Remember: focus before fury … at least around the crew .
Kaidan’s jaw tightened at her words, but he didn’t argue. After a moment, he spoke again, quieter now. “I’m sorry, Commander—it’s just, I signed on to make a difference—to protect people, but how can we do that when the people in charge refuse to listen?”
Shepard’s expression softened slightly at his honesty. Kaidan wasn’t the only one questioning things—hell, she’d been questioning herself more and more lately; she couldn’t be transparent about her doubts—not now. Not when her crew needed her to be strong.
“Don’t apologize for being honest, Kaidan,” she said, her voice low but steady. “We all have our reasons for being here. Some of us to prove ourselves… some of us to escape.”
Their eyes met for a long moment, and Shepard saw something like relief flicker in Kaidan’s gaze. He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, “I just wish I had more answers, Commander.”
Shepard offered a small, tired smile. “We’ll find them, and we’ll stop Saren. Trust me.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Kaidan’s lips, his eyes warming with gratitude. “Thanks, Commander. I needed to hear that.”
With a nod, Shepard turned away, heading toward the med bay. As she walked, Kaidan’s words lingered in her mind, weaving themselves into her doubts. The Council didn’t believe in the Reapers, didn’t believe in the threat they posed—they didn’t believe her, and Shepard had seen it. She felt it, in the pit of her stomach—a looming shadow, stretching across the stars. Every step they took, every mission, felt like a race against the darkness creeping in.
The doors to the med bay hissed open, and the sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air—a sharp contrast to the weight of the thoughts that clouded Shepard’s mind. Inside, Dr. Chakwas stood near the examination bed, adjusting a terminal while Liara sat nearby, still pale from the ordeal on Therum. Liara’s eyes flicked up as Shepard entered, her lips curling into a small, tired smile. “Commander,” she greeted softly, relief mingling with curiosity in her tone. “Have you come to check up on me?”
Shepard crossed the room, allowing herself a moment to push her frustration aside. “I was worried about our newest crewmate. How are you feeling, Dr. T’Soni?”
Dr. Chakwas turned toward Shepard with a reassuring nod. “She’s recovering well, Commander. The heat exhaustion was the worst of it, but she’ll be fine with some rest. Her biotics will recover fully in no time.” Shepard nodded and turned her attention back to Liara. Despite her pale complexion and obvious fatigue, there was a resilience in her eyes that Shepard couldn’t help but respect. She had been through hell, but she hadn’t broken. Not yet.
Liara offered a small smile in return, “Dr. Chakwas has been wonderful. I have never received such thorough care before.”
Shepard leaned against the bed’s edge, offering a wry grin. “You’re in good hands here, Liara. Dr. Chakwas is the best.”
Liara’s expression softened, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “I never properly thanked you for rescuing me from the geth, Commander. If you hadn’t arrived when you did—”
There was sincerity in her words, a genuine gratitude that tugged at something in Shepard. She wasn’t one to bask in praise—there was always another mission, another objective to achieve—but something about the way Liara said it, the quiet vulnerability in her voice, made the moment feel more personal. Shepard waved a hand dismissively, though her voice softened. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad we got there in time. You’re a valuable ally, Liara. You’re a part of the crew now—we take care of our own.”
Liara’s eyes flickered with surprise, as though the idea of belonging somewhere was foreign to her. It made Shepard pause, if just for a moment. Liara was brilliant, no doubt—one of the foremost Prothean experts in the galaxy—but that isolation, the solitude of her work, had clearly left its mark. There was a quiet loneliness in the asari that Shepard recognized, a rippled reflection of her own life before the Normandy. “I—I know you took a risk bringing me aboard. I’ve seen how some of your crew look at me. They don’t trust me.”
Shepard straightened, her gaze steady and unwavering. Trust your instincts. “Don’t worry about them. I trust you. You’re not your mother, and I have faith you won’t let me down.” The words weren’t just for Liara’s sake—they were for the entire crew. She needed to set the tone, to make it clear that trust was earned by action, not by family ties. Benezia may have sided with Saren, but Liara was not her mother. She would make sure everyone understood that.
Liara blinked, clearly surprised by the sincerity in Shepard’s tone. “It—it means a great deal to hear you say that, Commander.”
After a pause, Shepard shifted her stance, crossing her arms casually, and leaned against the wall adjacent to Liara. “Tell me more about yourself, Liara. Before all of this.”
Liara hesitated, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Me? I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell, Commander. There were expectations placed on me as the daughter of such an influential Matriarch. Most of my life has been spent on remote dig sites, studying Prothean ruins. It’s not the most exciting life by most standards.”
Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Sounds isolated, and dangerous.”
Liara chuckled softly. “Yes, it was often quite dangerous, but I never minded the isolation. It was… comforting, in a way. I was always more interested in the past than the present. I suppose it kept me from following in my mother’s footsteps.”
Shepard smirked, her voice light with amusement. “So, rebelling against your parents is a rite of passage in every species?”
Liara’s expression softened with a small, nervous laugh. “Yes, I suppose it is; though, in my case, I think I’ve spent more time trying to escape the shadow of my mother than anything else.” The asari’s face softened when she spoke about Benezia—not with anger or bitterness, but a kind of resigned sadness. She was disappointed—not hateful. She could understand that.
“It’s not easy living up to someone else’s expectations,” Shepard said, her voice quieter now, almost reflective. “But it sounds like you’ve done just fine on your own.”
Liara blinked, her surprise evident. “Thank you, Commander.” For a moment, the two of them sat in a comfortable silence, the tension of the past few days easing ever so slightly. Shepard could feel the bond forming between them, fragile but undeniable. Liara was different from the aliens aboard—she was more than just a brilliant scientist or a skilled biotic. There was a depth to her, a vulnerability that Shepard found... intriguing. Maybe it was the lack of sleep clouding her emotions more than usual.
Liara shifted again, glancing down at her hands before speaking softly. “I think... I need some time to process everything that’s happened. It’s a lot to take in—the Reapers, the Protheans, everything I thought I knew…”
Shepard nodded, pushing herself away from the wall. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere for a while. If you need anything, my quarters are just opposite the control panel. Sometimes the LT hangs out there when he’s got paperwork. It’ll take some of the crew some time to get used to aliens aboard an Alliance vessel, but nobody here bites,” she said. Then, laughing, she added, “Well, maybe Wrex does. In any case, if you have any concerns—please reach out.”
“Thank you, Shepard,” Liara murmured, her voice laced with sincerity. “And... thank you again, for saving me.”
“Anytime,” Shepard replied with a small smile, turning to leave.
Her boots echoed softly on the metal deck as she made her way toward the mess. The weight of the conversation with the Council still hung over her, it even felt her crew disagreed with her. It always seemed like nothing had changed since she was a kid on Mindoir, running around with other humans on the colony, and watching the way they treated aliens. She’d never understood why there was any disdain for them—sure, there was the First Contact War, but a hundred or so years had passed since then. While it might be different for other species, most humans—on the colony anyway—were too young to remember that, or they were just kids when it happened. Her parents hadn’t even been old enough to enlist during the war. So why did it matter? And why was everyone so concerned about Liara’s presence on the Normandy? If the Council had met her or known anything about her, they’d see she was hardly a threat. Sure, she had her biotics, but so did all asari. Dr. T’Soni was a scientist—a scholar. In her experience, people who read books and wrote papers the way Liara did rarely yielded the same aptitude for murder and deception.
The familiar hum of the mess hall met her ears and turned her thoughts away. The crew was scattered around the tables, some huddled in quiet conversation, others lost in their thoughts, meals half-finished. Shepard’s eyes quickly scanned the room, but her focus sharpened when she spotted Kaidan near the back, leaning against the counter, his eyes on her as soon as she stepped in. Well, guess I’m gonna have to hold off on the nap I wanted.
“Commander,” Kaidan’s voice rang out, a little more clipped than usual, though his gaze remained steady.
“Lieutenant,” Shepard replied, her tone neutral, though she could feel the subtle tension in the air between them. She crossed the room, giving him a cursory nod of acknowledgment before pulling out a seat across from him. Kaiden poured two cups of coffee and passed one to her before sitting down. “What’s your opinion about the last mission, Alenko?”
“Doctor T’Soni? Uh, she seems like a sweet girl, nice enough. Easy on the eyes. I mean, if you like the bookish sort,” he replied.
Shepard raised an eyebrow, her lips curling slightly at the corner. “Oh, I do. Remember, Lieutenant, I saw her first.”
Kaidan’s expression softened for a moment, but his next words came out quieter, awkward, almost reluctant. “They do say asari are open to that sorta thing. Ma’am.” He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “I’ve noticed you two seem to have a, uh, connection.” I checked on her in the medbay. I’d do it for anyone else on the team, what the hell is he getting at?
Shepard shifted in her seat, feeling the change in the air between them. There was something different about Kaidan’s tone, something more hesitant. She took a sip of her coffee, letting the silence stretch between them for a beat. “Look, Kaidan,” she began, her voice steady but careful. “Liara’s here to help. She’s not just a good asset to the team—she’s an ally. That’s all. Nothing more.”
He didn’t respond immediately, just staring at her, lips pressed into a thin line. It didn’t seem he was buying it—not completely, anyway. He’d never been one to let things go that easily. “You’re right,” he said finally, voice quiet. “She’s an ally. And I’m glad to have her on the team. But I also know how you work, Shepard. How you... connect with people.” His eyes flicked to hers, then quickly away. “I just don’t want you to get distracted. Not with everything we’re up against.”
Shepard’s hand tightened around her coffee cup, and she exhaled slowly, letting the tension slide off her shoulders. Jesus fuck is this awkward. He knows I’m a lesbian, right? I thought it was obvious to everyone. “I’m not getting distracted, Kaidan. I’m focused. The mission comes first. Always.”
He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a long moment, there was a quiet understanding between them. Kaidan was always so damn perceptive. She thought she saw a flicker of something else in his eyes, something he wasn’t saying, something he wasn’t ready to confront.
“I know,” he said quietly, giving a small nod. “I just don’t want to see you lose yourself in all of this. It’s easy to get caught up in... in what we want, and forget what we’re really here for.”
Shepard nodded, her gaze softening. “You don’t have to worry about that, LT.” He gave her a tight, understanding smile but didn’t push further. Instead, he took another sip of his coffee, the weight of the unspoken between them hanging in the air. The moment stretched, heavy with things left unsaid. “I’ll keep my head in the game,” Shepard added after a pause, her voice firm but tinged with something else—something she didn’t know how to name.
Kaidan looked at her, a little of the tension easing from his posture. “Good,” he replied. “Just don’t forget about the people around you.”
Shepard’s smile was small, but genuine. “I won’t.”
With a nod, Kaidan finished his coffee and stood, pushing the chair back with a soft scrape. “I’ll catch you later, Commander.” His words were light, but there was a quiet sincerity in them.
“Yeah,” Shepard said, watching him leave. “See ya, Kaidan.”
Shepard remained where she was. She hadn’t meant for the conversation to veer off course, but somewhere between the mission and Kaidan’s pointed words, it had. She tried to keep it all focused—on the job, on the fight—but it lingered. With a quiet sigh, she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. She couldn’t help it. No matter how much she wanted things to stay simple, it seemed like they never did