Archive of Our Own

    To celebrate the completion of a particularly difficult job, they'd booked a hotel room for two nights; they needed it for only one, but having it for two would allow them to sleep late the next morning.

    And they had ordered a lavish room service.

    While they waited for their food to arrive, Shepard ran a hot bath, threw in far too much bubble bath and watched with pleasure as the tub filled with foam. Zaeed stuck his head into the bathroom.

    "Hey," he said. "Call for you." He tossed her omnitool to her and Shepard slipped the device's elastic harness over her hand, triggered the holographic display and frowned. The identity of the caller had been blocked. She sat down on the edge of the tub and, thoughtful, answered the call.

    The scrambled image startled her a moment, but the specifically disguised voice did not fool her for a second. "Shepard. I'm glad you picked up."

    "Shadow Broker," Shepard replied cautiously. "How are you?"

    "This line is secure, Shepard. You don't need to be formal."

    "But you still need to scramble?"

    "I do still need to protect myself. I need your help."

    Shepard stared at the flickering, blurred hologram a moment. "I—why now?"

    "I respect your privacy, Shepard, and I haven't contacted you until now because of that."

    "Right."

    "But no one else can help me in this matter. I can't trust anyone but you with it."

    Shepard raised her eyebrows. "You have very loyal agents, all of them very skilled."

    "But they are not you, Shepard. You brought your entire crew out of the Collector Base and back through the Omega Four Relay. You made sure they lived to see the Reapers dead. I need you for a—mission—that absolutely cannot fail."

    In the other room, Shepard heard a knock on the door, heard Zaeed speak quietly with the concierge; the door was shut and locked again and the smell of hot food wafted to her. She turned slightly and shut off the faucet.

    "I will pay you, Shepard, if that's your concern," Liara went on.

    "I'm not worried about that. We're just settling in for the night, that's all."

    "I'm sorry this can't wait. It's a matter of life and death."

    "Whose life, and whose death?"

    Liara made a sound that was probably a sigh; through the voice-changing software, it sounded like a deep growl. "My daughter has been taken hostage," she said. "By mercenaries who—"

    Shepard raised her free hand. "Whoa, whoa," she spoke over Liara's words. "You have a daughter?"

    "Yes," was the quiet reply. "She is nearly six years old."

    Six years.

    "She is very precious to me, Shepard," Liara continued. "If anything should happen to her, I will tear the galaxy apart."

    "Look, you have resources—"

    "Shepard, there is no one else I trust with my daughter's life. Do you understand?"

    "No," Shepard told her honestly. "I don't. Zaeed and I just take regular jobs these days, and we try to lay low—"

    "I call bullshit on your laying low, Shepard," Liara said, calmly. "The Black Dogs are notorious throughout the Terminus—"

    "Black Dogs?" Shepard stared at the screen.

    "Are you pretending that you've never heard the name?"

    "I've heard of black dogs," Shepard said, "but not in this context."

    Liara was quiet a moment, no doubt attempting to determine if Shepard was joking. "How do you hire yourselves out?" she asked at last.

    Shepard shook her head, puzzled. "What are you getting at?"

    Liara cleared her throat. "My files indicate that the Black Dogs consist of Zaeed Massani and Jane Shepard. They are called 'the Black Dogs' because wherever they are seen, someone is sure to die."

    Shepard laughed out loud at that. "Are you shitting me, Liara?"

    "Shepard!"

    "Well, seriously, do you see us running around calling ourselves something as ominous as 'the Black Dogs'? It sounds like a cheap action vid." She chuckled. Zaeed would get a kick out of that.

    "Regardless of your intent, Shepard, you and Zaeed are known. All reports indicate that you have not failed on a job in the time you've been working together."

    "Well, we're good at what we do," Shepard said modestly. "But we're not like your agents. We don't have the contacts, we don't even have the most up to date weapons—"

    "I will give you what you need, Shepard, and I will more than compensate you for your time and effort. You know I have the ability to do so."

    Zaeed leaned on the door frame, wearing just his shorts and an undershirt. In one hand he held a glass of wine; in the other he had some sort of canapé. Shepard's stomach twisted a little; she hadn't eaten in nearly twelve hours. She looked back at Liara's scrambled face. "It's not just my decision," she said at last. "We'll talk it over and I'll call you back—"

    "Since when," Liara said sharply, "do you not simply make the rules?"

    "Since I stopped having to. Give me thirty minutes."

    "I will give you fifteen," Liara told her flatly. "I will call you back." The communication was cut and the scrambled image vanished. Shepard watched it a moment before she deactivated the omnitool and looked up at Zaeed.

    "Work?" he wondered, and popped the canapé into his mouth.

    "Maybe. How much did you hear?"

    Zaeed shook his head, swallowed. "Enough to know you don't really want the job."

    "That was Liara."

    "I gathered. What's the job?"

    "Her daughter's been kidnapped."

    Zaeed ran his tongue over his teeth, gulped down the wine and sucked his lips clean. "Ransom?"

    "Didn't get that far. She said she'll pay us, give us weapons."

    He bared his teeth in the unamused, feral smile that meant he had spotted a target. "Maybe make back what I spent to find you," he said.

    "We're not hurting for money," Shepard reminded him. "But it sounds like she'd give us whatever we asked."

    "So what's the problem?"

    "Working for the Shadow Broker is hardly keeping ourselves out of the limelight," Shepard said. "And anyway, I was looking forward to a nice night in a big clean bed. And a nice hot bath. And supper."

    Zaeed snorted laughter at her. "Take the job, Shepard," he said mildly. He pushed himself upright. "We'll just take the food with us." He returned to the other room. Shepard glared at her tub full of bubbles, reached down and pulled the plug. The water began to drain with a slurping sound.

    She joined Zaeed in the other room; they set their room service tray between them on the bed and ate rapidly. It was a shame, Shepard thought, to eat such a rich meal without being able to savour each bite.

    True to her word, exactly fifteen minutes after she'd disconnected, Liara called again. "Well?" she demanded without preamble.

    "We'll do it," Shepard said. "Just give us the details, and know this is going to cost you." Zaeed nodded approvingly and shoved a slice of poached pear into his mouth. Shepard opened her mouth and Zaeed gently set a slice on her tongue.

    "Nothing is as dear to me as my child, Shepard," Liara went on, as Shepard chewed and swallowed. "As I said, I will pay you what you want, and you will have all the weapons you need."

    "Don't say that where Zaeed can hear you," Shepard advised her. "He might take you up on it." She glanced up. Zaeed showed his teeth again. Shepard rolled her eyes at him, shook her head. "Who are these mercs who took your kid?"

    "They're nobodies. They're hoping this will make a name for them."

    "They know they've got the Shadow Broker's kid? And they're not afraid of the repercussions?"

    "They know whose child they have." Liara was silent a moment, just a moment. "Apparently I have to work on my own reputation."

    "Have they reached out to you for ransom?"

    "They've reached out, yes. I'm still waiting for their precise location, but they are somewhere in the Terminus."

    "How long ago did they take her?"

    "That's hard to say."

    Shepard frowned. "Why? This child that's so dear to you, I'd think you'd have an eye on her at all times."

    "My work keeps me busy, Shepard, and she's—adventurous."

    "Takes after her mama, then."

    Liara made a sound that might have been a chuckle. "She takes more after her father," she said softly. "She'd gone out without permission—"

    "And they took advantage of that." Shepard sighed. Zaeed cut in half a brioche toast point on which rested a pan-seared slice of foie gras. He held this over the tray to Shepard and she leaned forward, took it in her mouth, winked a thanks at him. He watched her eat while he nibbled on the other half. "When did you see her last?"

    "It's been about six hours."

    "And when was the first communication from the mercs?"

    "Two hours ago."

    "Why'd you take so long to call me?"

    "I took the time to research everything, Shepard. I wouldn't have you go in there unprepared."

    "Sounds like there was no doubt in your mind that I'd agree to go."

    Liara's modulated voice was suddenly softer. "We have been friends a long time, Shepard. I put my faith in that."

    Shepard sighed. "Send me what information you can. We'll finish up here and go." She narrowed her eyes at the indistinct blur on the screen. "Just so you know, you are interfering with my delicious dinner, my hot bubble bath, and my awesome sex."

    "I never promised you sex," Zaeed said with a shrug.

    Shepard looked up at him through her lashes. "There would have been sex."

    "I won't promise you sex either, Shepard," Liara said. "But you will be able to afford plenty of delicious dinners after you bring my daughter home. I'll send you the information I have." She cut communication abruptly. It was one of the traits of the Shadow Broker: professional and polite—but only to a point.

    Shepard shut down her omnitool again and sighed. "Goddamnit," she muttered. "You'd think that she'd be able to take care of one child."

    "Sure," Zaeed agreed. "But some kids aren't that easily taken care of. Didn't you tell me something once about you stealing a shuttle?"

    "I was fifteen," she said. "I was bored."

    "Right."

    "And I didn't steal it. I took it for a joyride."

    "Right." Zaeed speared a couple of blackberries with a fork, dipped them into the syrup that accompanied the pears, and ate them.

    "I was confined to my cabin for a week after that," Shepard went on, and smiled wistfully at the memory.

    "Got your mum in trouble too, as I recall you saying."

    "That I did," Shepard agreed. "But that's different. My mother was XO of the ship."

    "Liara's the Shadow Broker," he said with a shrug. "Probably got more going on in a day than your mum ever has."

    Shepard sighed. "Yeah, I suppose." She watched him a moment. "Did you know she had a kid?"

    "I guessed," he said evasively. "When I saw her last." Shepard did not press him. She reached for her wine glass and downed its contents, sighed.

    Her omnitool buzzed slightly and Shepard raised her arm, brought up the information packet that Liara had transferred to her, and waited for the encryption key—sent separately—to unravel its contents. Zaeed set aside his glass, beckoned to Shepard. He slid the tray to one side and Shepard crawled to sit between his knees, her back against his chest.

    The contract was straightforward; they were to use the information gathered by the Shadow Broker and agents to travel to the location where the hostage was being held. At that point extraction methods were up to them, though a mildly threatening clause indicated that any harm to the hostage would result in severe penalties.

    "I don't want to find out what she thinks severe is," Zaeed muttered against Shepard's hair. He drew his finger along the projected image of the document. "There, says we'll be provided weapons or funding for weapons and supplies as needed. What would you prefer?"

    "Funding," Shepard said promptly. "Unless you're thinking of upgrading."

    "Nah."

    "How are you for clips?"

    "Got plenty," Zaeed said. "Though you can never have too many."

    "True enough." She continued to scan the contract, wondered what she hoped she'd find. Everything seemed to be perfectly in order. She tapped a sequence that activated the contract's acceptance, then let the omnitool's tiny scanner read her thumbprint. Zaeed reached around to add his own, and it was done. Shepard waited for the confirmation that the contract had been received, then deactivated her omnitool.

    "Suppose we should get dressed," Zaeed said. He rubbed Shepard's shoulders a moment and she sighed.

    "I want two nights in a hotel when this is done," she grumbled, "since I'm going to miss this one."

    "You are spoiled," he said. He gave her a shove that rolled her to her knees, and slapped her bottom gently. "Get dressed." He rolled off the bed in the opposite direction and began to dress.

    They ate as much as they could of the food; it was not the kind that travelled well, but Shepard insisted on bringing the last of the foie-gras toast points with her and ate them as they walked. They left the room tidy and exited the hotel without speaking to anyone, pushed through the crowded streets in the direction of the the docks.

    They were intercepted by a human, who informed Shepard that she'd dropped something and pressed an OSD into her hand before he vanished into the pedestrian traffic. Shepard tucked the OSD into one of her pouches and they continued to the docks. In one of the departure lounges, she and Zaeed sat in a quiet corner while she scanned the device for malware; it was clean, so she let her omnitool read it and she waited for the contents to be displayed. Zaeed kept an eye on the other people in the lounge, lest anyone be watching or listening to them.

    "Illium," Shepard murmured.

    "All right," Zaeed replied, without looking at the display. "Nos Astra, or somewhere else?"

    "Mm. Doesn't specify. There's a frigate leaving from here very shortly, will take us to Nos Astra. By the time we get there we should know where we're headed."

    "You think she knows already, but is holding back, to keep you moving?"

    "It's a possibility," Shepard sighed. "I don't like the idea that she would mistrust me like that."

    "Let's go, then."

    Shepard shut down her omnitool and they stood in unison, left the lounge and made their way to the docks. The turian crew of the frigate were expecting them, and directed them to a corner of the cargo bay, where a couple of benches and safety harnesses had been welded. Zaeed tossed his duffel under one of the benches and dropped to sit on the other, pulled the harness around himself. Shepard stretched her arms over her head, sat to his left. Their knees touched.

    "I might doze off," she warned him.

    "Might," he snorted.

    Shepard turned her head to look at him. "What are you saying?" she demanded, amused.

    He watched her from the corner of his eye. "I'm saying I'll be surprised if you're not asleep before we even reach the relay."

    "I don't always fall asleep," she protested.

    His lips twitched. "I'll wake you before we land at Nos Astra."

    "Complacent bastard," she accused him mildly.

    "You knew that going in, sweetheart," he reminded her. "Your pillow awaits." He patted his shoulder.

    The ship's engines finally roared to life; Shepard closed her eyes and listened. The vibrations of every ship were different, depending on the make and model, its fabrication and the size of its engines, the weight of its cargo and the gravity around it. This one was fairly old but steady—turian ships tended to be built to last—and her engines were smoothly maintained. The frigate lifted off with little effort and before long Shepard's feet raised involuntarily from the floor as the gravity of the moon they'd left became too weak to hold them down. Another moment, and the ship's artificial gravity kicked in; Shepard shifted her weight on the bench, leaned deliberately on Zaeed. He raised his arm and dropped it around her shoulders and she relaxed.

    It seemed only a few minutes later when Zaeed shook her very gently awake. "Hey," he said against her hair.

    Shepard lifted her head. "What?" she grumbled.

    "We're nearly to Nos Astra."

    "Son of a bitch," Shepard sighed, and sat straight. Zaeed withdrew his arm and began to rub it vigorously. "She didn't call?"

    "Nope." He flexed his fingers and winced. "You want to call her?"

    "No, that wasn't the deal. She said she'd be in touch with more information." If Liara hadn't called, then she would be sending someone in person. Shepard just had to figure out where.

    There was another shift in gravity as the ship descended into Illium's atmosphere. They waited while the frigate docked, and Shepard waited for the engine shutdown sequence to begin. As soon as she felt a change in the frequency of the ship's vibrations, she stood. Zaeed unfastened his safety harness and reached for his duffel, and the two of them made their way to the nearest airlock. They ignored the stares of the turian crew they passed; no one made a move to stop them.

    Illium customs was negligible and they passed into Nos Astra's port authority with ease. Just past the exchange Shepard headed for the observation deck, leaned on the railing and looked out over the city proper. Zaeed leaned as well, with his back to the railing, and watched as people swept in and out of the port.

    "Left," he murmured, just loud enough for Shepard to hear.

    "Mm," she acknowledged the warning, as a body moved close to her. She glanced up at the newcomer, a tall and rather handsome turian with a rust-coloured clan tattoo; he stood nearby, rested his forearms on the railing and watched the city below. Shepard returned her attention to the view. The turian spoke quietly, clearly; Shepard gave no indication that she could hear him. The turian straightened, adjusted his jacket, and strode into the port.

    Shepard and Zaeed stayed where they were for nearly fifteen minutes. At last they moved away from the balustrade in unison. At the port's transportation hub they rented a car and the two of them climbed inside; Zaeed tossed his duffel into the back seat. Shepard began work on locating and deactivating the cameras and voice recorders secreted about the vehicle—standard in all Nos Astra rentals. Nothing was personal, nothing sacred on Illium. Between them, Shepard and Zaeed knew a thing or two about keeping their private information private, however, and once all the monitoring gear had been disabled Zaeed raised the car into the flow of traffic.

    "Where to?" he said.

    "The mercs have a hidey-hole down in a secure building," Shepard said. She brought up a map on the heads-up display in front of Zaeed and his eyes flicked swiftly over it. Shepard examined it as well and tapped a spot. "Here," she said. "Looks like we can come up from the back of the building down this alley. Might give us a less observable entrance."

    "We'll do a drive-by," Zaeed suggested. "Get a feel for it first. Maps aren't always accurate."

    "True enough." Shepard removed the map from the display, settled down in her seat.

    "He say anything else?"

    "Just that we're to call as soon as we've got the kid safely out. Liara will tell us where to meet her."

    "She's being awfully cagey about this," he noted. "Not just careful, but tortuous."

    "I noticed."

    He glanced at her. "Not worried about it?"

    "She may be the Shadow Broker, but she's also a friend. She wouldn't fuck us over, if that's your fear."

    "It's not," said Zaeed. "It's just strange, is all."

    It was strange indeed. That Liara would throw massive amounts of money at them for a job that could just as easily have been done by her own salaried agents was—illogical. Bringing a friend into the situation made it too personal, which had the potential to compromise the Shadow Broker.

    She tried to put it out of her mind, and watched the lights of the city speed by.

    The building was located in a district known for being the centre for Nos Astra's mercenary groups. The place would probably be well-defended, Shepard mused, depending on the strength and wealth of the group. But if this particular operation was as small-time as Liara had indicated, how had they managed to capture the child of the Shadow Broker—and how did they honestly expect to survive the inevitable assault?

    She sighed. Zaeed glanced at her again. Shepard met his eyes, shook her head. "Thinking too much," she said ruefully.

    "You always do," he returned. He slowed the car as they approached the specific building they were to infiltrate. The cab drew no attention from the other cars, nor from the pedestrians on the street. Shepard watched the building, noted the locations of its entrances. As she had guessed, the alley in the back would be their best bet to enter without being noticed. Zaeed settled the car at one end of the alley and shut it off.

    Shepard raised her omnitool and ran a swift scan of the building. Zaeed opened his own and Shepard transferred the data to him. "What do you think?" she asked.

    Zaeed examined the layout. "Here," he said, and Shepard leaned in to see. He pointed to a rather large room on the third floor. "Probably where they got her."

    "Why d'you think?"

    "Looks like it might be a panic room or something. There's only one entrance, and it's not hooked up to the regular ventilation system."

    "Hard to break in, then."

    "Not for us," Zaeed said. "But if it's that secure, they'll be guarding it and waiting for us."

    "Let's not disappoint them."

    Zaeed showed his teeth, then sobered and indicated a path on the layout. "I'll go up this route," he said. "Clear it all out and head up on this side. You go this way, do the same. All right?"

    "All right," Shepard agreed.

    "Can you handle any alarms?"

    "Naturally. You see anything that might trip us up?"

    "Nothing obvious in the plans," he said. "Just keep your eyes open." They shut down their omnitools.

    Zaeed reached into the back for his duffel, set it on his lap and unzipped it. Shepard unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over the duffel to examine its contents. She withdrew a box containing clips of armour-piercing rounds, and loaded her rifle.

    "Anyone gets in our way," she said, "they go down. Anyone not involved shouldn't be getting in our way." She filled her armour pouches with clips.

    "What if it's some guy just ran out for coffee, and happens to be in the hall when we're walking down it?" Zaeed loaded his Mattock and examined it.

    "He'll have a coffee in his hand rather than a gun," Shepard pointed out. "I think we're smart enough to notice that."

    "Speak for yourself," Zaeed said drily.

    Shepard reached again into the duffel and withdrew smaller rounds for her Scorpion. Zaeed collapsed his Mattock, hooked his pistol to his hip, and together they slid out of the car and slipped through the shadows to the door.
    
    It was locked, of course, but Shepard was able to hack the electronic lock without setting off an alarm. Inside, the hall was silent.

    "Remember," Shepard whispered, "don't shoot any guys with coffee."

    "Right." They checked their weapons one more time, then moved rapidly down the corridor to the stairwell. At the top of the stairs they parted ways, each taking the direction Zaeed had indicated—Shepard the east side of the building, and Zaeed the west.

    The mercs were ready for them.

    They were armed and armoured, and they had the home turf advantage. The first floor was a maze of rooms, each one connected to the next, and Shepard had to check her omnitool more than once after clearing a room of targets to be sure of her own location. She managed to take down all the security cameras using a crack code on her omnitool, with the hope that she could travel faster without being seen, but the mercs had set up automated turrets just about everywhere, and the rapid shots from the turrets announced her location and drew the mercs to her. The turrets were tough to take down, and Shepard was hit more than once. She hoped her hard-suit's medi-gel supply would last.

    In the distance she could hear more shots being fired, and hoped Zaeed was having fun.

    A big batarian cornered her in one room, forced her to wait for him to bear down on her or risk running in front of a turret. Shepard managed to overload the turret, and the resulting explosion distracted him just long enough for Shepard to fire a Scorpion round. It struck his shoulder and, panicked, he plucked ineffectively at it until it detonated and took his head with it. Shepard stayed where she was a moment to catch her breath, then resumed her path toward the west side of the building.

    She met up with Zaeed in the southwest corner. "Eighteen," she said. "Not counting turrets."

    "Twenty-three," he returned solemnly.

    "Shit," Shepard sighed. "I think that's all on this floor, though."

    "Seems quiet," Zaeed agreed. "Want to switch?"

    "No, this is fine the way it is. You all right for clips?"

    "Picked up a few along the way," he said. "You?"

    "Haven't had space to use my rifle," she said. "So that's fine so far. Might run out of Scorpion rounds if I'm not careful."

    "Be careful, then."

    They nodded to one another and separated again.

    Shepard climbed the stairs to the second floor only to find several mercs huddled on the landing between floors, protected with some decent physical shields as well as kinetic barriers. She leaped back down and around the corner to avoid getting shot and waited, but they didn't descend. They knew they had the advantage where they were; she had to deal with them or she wouldn't be getting up the stairs.

    Shepard cloaked herself and crept silently up and around the corner, calculated the best spot for maximum effectiveness, tossed a cryo grenade into the middle of the mercs, then ducked back down. As the grenade discharged the mercs were frozen in panicked motion. One fell over the railing and the body shattered on the stairs at Shepard's feet. The rest died in place on the stairs above her. Shepard climbed over them and peered around the door leading to the second floor.

    The second floor was wide open and clearly under renovation; bare girders and studs were visible, and piles of construction materials lay here and there. Shepard crept across the space, tense and alert, her Scorpion up and ready. She heard motion to one side and spun only to find Zaeed spinning about with his rifle aimed at her. They lowered their weapons.

    "Guess they didn't figure we'd make it this far," Zaeed noted. "This floor isn't very defensible anyway." He gestured to a nearby pile of wall panels waiting to be installed.

    "The guys on the stairs weren't altogether that difficult to take out," Shepard said. "But it was a good plan, to block the stairwell like that. Did they do it on your side too?"

    "Yeah. Set 'em on fire."

    "Naturally." Shepard scanned the area with her omnitool, confirmed that the security cameras were still disabled. No alarms had yet gone off; that was good. She shut down the omnitool and looked at Zaeed. "Shall we?"

    "Let's go," he agreed, and they moved together to the stairwell.

    Shepard had to crack the secure door leading to the third floor; no sooner had she opened the door than a massive volley of shots struck the door and one hit her shoulder. "Fuck," she hissed, and ducked back behind the door's frame. The door began to slide shut. Zaeed shot at the control pad set in the wall and the door ground to a halt before it could close more than halfway.

    "Cover for the lady," Zaeed said, and showed his teeth as he ejected a clip.

    "The gentleman will be properly thanked," Shepard promised as she drew her rifle at last.

    It took more than an hour to whittle away the bulk of the mercs milling about on the third floor. They had the advantage of being able to move about in a large space. Now and again a heavy weapon would be aimed through the half-open doorway and more than once Shepard felt her skin sear slightly as a missile blew past and slammed into the wall. Her hard-suit worked double-time to distribute medi-gel evenly.

    At last Zaeed stuck his head through the door to assess the situation, swiftly pulled back. "They're starting to huddle," he said. "Your little peashooter might be helpful." Shepard smiled faintly and raised her Scorpion, ensured it had a full clip. "Careful they're not going to charge, too," Zaeed warned her.

    "Let 'em," Shepard said softly. She cloaked again and stood in the doorway, fired four times rapidly and struck four targets. She pulled back behind the door and ejected her clip, waited.

    The sticky rounds detonated amidst screams and terrible wet sounds. Zaeed spun quickly through the door to finish off any last survivors, and Shepard followed, alert.

    "Lovely," Zaeed declared the mess, as he scanned the area. "And this is the last of them." He raised his rifle in the direction of what appeared to be an elevator. "Panic room, right in the middle, like I said." They crossed to stand in front of it; there was no obvious mechanism for opening the door.

    "Shit," Shepard said.

    "They're meant to open from the inside," Zaeed reminded her. "Panic room's no good if someone can get in from the outside."

    "Funny," Shepard said, and raised her omnitool.

    Hacking the panic room doors took longer than it should have; she was tired and she wasn't thinking straight, and she was pretty sure she was swimming in medi-gel inside her hard-suit. At last the doors slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a second door behind them. Shepard sighed and settled down to hack this one as well.

    "Should have cut the power," Zaeed mused.

    "Might have set off some secondary power source," Shepard said. "Or possibly done some damage that we didn't intend." The second door's locks slid open but the door itself was hinged. Shepard reached out and pushed, and it swung ponderously inward.

    The space was set up like a one-room apartment; in one corner was a tiny pantry with running water and tiny appliances. In another corner was a not-quite-private bathroom. In a third was a large bed, and on the bed sat an asari child, her face tear-streaked. She wore loose trousers and a sleeveless tunic, and her feet were bare. She looked up at Shepard and Zaeed and her eyes widened. She slid off the bed and ran across the room, wrapped her arms around Shepard's legs and looked up at her, new tears in her eyes.

    "You came," she said joyfully. "I told them you'd come and you came."

    Shepard patted her back and pried her loose, looked her over. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

    "They didn't try to hurt me," said the child, "but they wouldn't let me out of here."

    "Did they talk to you?"

    "Yes, they were mostly nice."

    "What did you tell them?"

    "I told them that you are my father, and they said they could get money for that."

    Shepard nodded, thoughtful. "I've got to call your mother," she said.

    "She'll be happy you came back," babbled the child. "Who's that man?" she pointed at Zaeed.

    Shepard glanced over her shoulder. "That's my partner," she said, and activated her omnitool.

    "He can't come," the child said imperiously. "Just you and Mother."

    "Whatever," Shepard said, and waited for Liara to answer. It took longer than usual due to Liara's security precautions. At last a scrambled image came into view.

    "Shepard?"

    "Yeah," Shepard replied. "Got your kid, and she's not hurt."

    "And the mercs?"

    "Dead, all that we came across."

    "Good."

    "Now come and get your kid, Liara."

    "Feron is on Illium," Liara said. "He'll pick you up and bring you here."

    "We'll find our own way off Illium."

    "Not optional, Shepard. You come here with my daughter, or you won't get paid."

    Shepard looked back at Zaeed, who had collapsed his rifle and now stood with his arms folded over his chest. He shrugged. Shepard returned her attention to her omnitool. "Fine," she said. "But know this puts a bit of a damper on the whole 'we've been friends a long time, Shepard' schtick."

    Liara was quiet a moment. "He'll meet you at the port."

    "Just how many agents do you have on Illium, anyway?"

    Liara cut the connection. Shepard sighed and stood and the child stood as well, looked anxiously up at her.

    "Am I in trouble?"

    Shepard looked down at her. "What's your name?"

    "Rhien."

    "Rhien, if you're in trouble, it's with your mother, and not with us. Come on." Shepard turned; Rhien reached up and took her hand and walked happily beside her.

    The cab was still in the alley by the time they had descended to the ground floor and exited the building. Zaeed expressed some surprise that it hadn't at least been vandalised, and insisted on checking it for any sort of tampering. Satisfied that it had not been touched, he climbed into the driver's seat. Shepard buckled Rhien safely into the back, and sat heavily in the front passenger seat.

    "Tired?" Zaeed asked.

    "Yeah," she said. "I want that bath now, and I want to sleep for three days."

    "I'll see what I can arrange," he said, with a half-smile, and pulled out of the alley and into traffic.

    Feron was at the port as promised, and greeted Shepard and Zaeed with warmth. "Been a while," he said to Zaeed.

    "Got something bigger than before, to carry the lot of us?" Zaeed wondered, as he shook Feron's hand.

    "Indeed," Feron agreed. "In fact, you'll find it quite comfortable, I think." He looked down at Rhien. "And you, young lady, are in big trouble this time. Your mother is just about spitting iron."

    Rhien folded her arms and looked defiantly up at him. "I don't care," she said. "I found my father, and I don't have to listen to her anymore."

    Shepard snorted, shook her head. "Like a miniature Liara," she said. "All rebellious, but in an adorable way." She glanced at Zaeed, caught him watching her intently. "What?"

    "Didn't say a word," he assured her.

    "Let's go," Feron said. "No sense drawing attention to ourselves." He led them to the docks where a small cruiser was waiting for them.

    In the rear passenger section, two long and padded bench seats faced one another. Shepard lifted Rhien to sit on one of them, latched a five-point harness around her and pulled the straps tight. Zaeed sat on the other bench, slouched a little and rested his heels on his duffel. Shepard dropped to sit next to him.

    "We'll book a room for three nights this time, hey?" Zaeed suggested quietly.

    "That sounds good," Shepard agreed. When the cruiser took off, she closed her eyes and dozed.

    "—not my father," Rhien's high voice cut through her sleep.

    "I don't give a shit," Zaeed growled. "You'll stay where you are or you'll goddamn well regret it."

    "You can't make me."

    "If you wake Shepard up so help me I will smack your arse into the next system." Rhien inhaled as though to respond. "And so will Shepard." Rhien exhaled in obvious surprise.

    "She would not."

    "Try it and see, little girl. I've known her a lot longer than you."

    "I don't like you," Rhien informed him. "And you can leave anytime."

    Zaeed laughed. "Not the first time I've heard that one."

    Shepard shifted, lifted her feet to the bench, rested her head on Zaeed's thigh. He lay his arm along her side, and Shepard fell into a deeper sleep.

    She woke when the cruiser slowed, sat up and looked around. Rhien had fallen asleep in her seat and her safety harness held her securely upright. Shepard stretched, turned to Zaeed and tilted her face up for a kiss. He obliged, pulled her half into his lap, and without breaking the kiss Shepard leaned comfortably against him, wrapped her arms around his head.

    "Had a good sleep, then?" he wondered, when at last she paused for air.

    "Not three days' worth," she murmured against his lips. "But it'll do for now."

    "All right."

    She slid away to sit next to him again, slouched and rested her heels beside Zaeed's, on his duffel. She folded her hands over her belly, finally stole a look at Rhien.

    "She's cute," Zaeed said. "Mouthy."

    "She gets that from Liara."

    He snorted softly. "If you say so." He shifted so their legs were touching.

    Before long the cruiser landed and the engines were silenced; Feron ducked into the passenger area. "We're here," he said, and glanced at Rhien. "She always falls asleep when we go anywhere."

    "Just like Liara, right?" Zaeed said, deadpan. Shepard drove her elbow into his ribs and he yelped. Feron unbuckled Rhien's harness and lifted her easily without waking her.

    "You take care of her often?" Shepard wondered.

    "Liara doesn't always have the free time," Feron agreed. "Rhien and I get along fine, so it works."

    They stepped out of the cruiser into a shiny clean hangar. Feron led them through a door and into a shiny clean corridor; up a broad flight of shiny clean stairs he stopped in front of an unremarkable door and waited. Shepard folded her arms, unsure what to expect.

    A familiar drone slid halfway through the door. "Agent Feron," it said. "You have brought Miss Rhien home safely. The Shadow Broker will be pleased." Glyph retreated into the room beyond and a moment later the door opened soundlessly.

    Feron strode in without hesitation. Shepard stopped inside the doorway and looked around.

    The walls of the room were vidscreens, most of which were playing various news reports from around the galaxy. In the centre of the room was an enormous console. Several stations around the console had discrete screens and input pads. Everything was lit up and active.

    Liara walked rapidly around the console, her eyes on Rhien. Rhien raised her head from Feron's shoulder and reached sleepily for her mother; Liara took her, wrapped her arms tightly around her and kissed her cheek, sighed with obvious relief. She looked up at Shepard over Rhien's head. "Thank you," she said.

    Shepard moved into the room at last, and Zaeed followed. "Why did you need us to come here, Liara?" Shepard said. "You could have paid us and not taken the risk of letting your location be known."

    "I trust you not to let it be known, Shepard, even if you knew where you are." Liara sighed. "It is good to see you again."

    Shepard shook her head slowly. "You could have sent any of your agents to do this job, and paid no more than their salaries."

    "It is not about money, Shepard," Liara told her. Rhien lifted her head to listen.

    "Then what?"

    Liara looked at Rhien. "This is not the first time she's tried to find you, Shepard. It's only the first time she managed to get anywhere." Rhien made a face. Liara set her on her feet, kept a hand on her head.

    "So you thought you'd arrange to let her find her father," Zaeed intoned.

    "Yes," Liara said simply. "I knew you could do the job." She smiled faintly.

    "Did you hire them?" Shepard wondered.

    "No," said Liara. "The whole thing happened just as I said. Rhien took off alone and the mercs decided to hold her for ransom." She looked down at Rhien. "And how did they find out about Shepard?" she asked, more sternly.

    "I told them," Rhien said, unrepentant. "I told them Commander Shepard is my father and that she'd come for me and kill them all. And she did."

    "We will need to talk about that later, Rhien," Liara said. "Feron, ensure she gets something to eat." Feron inclined his head and stepped forward to take Rhien's hand.

    Rhien recoiled and ducked past Feron, threw herself at Shepard and wrapped her arms around Shepard's legs. "No," she declared. "I'm going with my father."

    Shepard stared uneasily down at her a moment, then looked up at Liara. "Why'd you even tell her about me?"

    "She asked, Shepard."

    "You could have lied. Told her what the rest of the galaxy believes. That I died in the war."

    "I do not lie to my child, Shepard," Liara said balefully. "If even a child could not trust the information I present, I would be a lousy information broker."

    Shepard sighed, reached down to pry Rhien from her legs, squatted and held the dainty hands in her own. "Rhien," she said. "Zaeed and I live a life that's not good for kids."

    Rhien cocked her head to one side and frowned. "But I want to go with you."

    "You can't."

    "Why not? I'll be good—"

    "If you're not good for your mother," Shepard said, "why would you behave for us?"

    "Because." The wide eyes were defiant, the pointed chin thrust forward. Shepard was reminded suddenly of Grunt, and her chest hurt a little.

    Zaeed cleared his throat. "Kid," he said, "you have a bed here, right? Probably a whole room to yourself."

    Rhien looked past Shepard to see Zaeed, then back at Shepard. "Yes," she said.

    "And when you want to eat, you just tell your mum and she makes sure you get fed, right?"

    Rhien leaned against Shepard, watched Zaeed solemnly over Shepard's shoulder. "Yes."

    "And if you get hurt, your mum takes care of you, right?"

    "Yes."

    "We don't get any of that," he said. "We don't have rooms, or beds, or even a home to go to every night. When we're working we don't get to sleep or eat until the job is done and if we get hurt we have to take care of ourselves."

    Rhien frowned. "You don't have a home?"

    "That's right."

    She looked at Shepard for confirmation, and Shepard nodded. Rhien addressed Zaeed again. "Where do you put your things?"

    "We carry everything with us," he said, and swung his duffel up for her to see.

    "What about your pyjamas?"

    Zaeed laughed rudely. "We don't have pyjamas, kid."

    Rhien looked from Zaeed to Shepard, took a deep breath. "Then you can live here."

    "Rhien," Liara said in a warning tone.

    Shepard squeezed the little hands gently. "You should go with Feron now, and get something to eat. I bet those mercs didn't feed you."

    Rhien lifted one hand and rubbed her eye, a little crossly. "They gave me a sandwich. But it wasn't very good."

    "Why don't we go see what's in the kitchen?" Feron asked gently, and held a hand out to Rhien. She hesitated, looked at Shepard.

    "Are you going to leave?" she asked.

    "Yes," Shepard told her honestly.

    "Then I don't want to go."

    Liara cleared her throat. "Rhien, I have already asked Feron to get you some supper. Go with him now, and I will come and see you before you go to sleep."

    This triggered a flood of tears and Feron swiftly and firmly scooped Rhien into his arms and left the room with her, careful to avoid being struck by the suddenly thrashing arms and legs. Shepard stood and folded her arms and watched Liara a long moment.

    "I would say that I'm sorry, Shepard," Liara said softly, "but she is the light of my life."

    "Don't be sorry for that," Shepard said. "I was pretty sure what you were up to that day."

    "You aren't angry?"

    "I'm a little pissed about this farce of a job that you hired me for just to get me to meet her."

    Liara smiled at that, then sobered. "It wasn't for your sake, Shepard. I wanted her to see the reality of you."

    Shepard raised an eyebrow. "And what reality is that?"

    "That you weren't going to swoop in and sweep her away to a fantastic life in which she doesn't have to eat her vegetables or wash behind her ears or do in general what she's told."

    "No shit," Zaeed said drily. "You should see how much green I'm eating these days. It's fucking scandalous."

    "Just making sure you stick around a bit," Shepard said, amused. She looked at Liara again. "So, what now?"

    "What do you mean?"

    "Do you expect me to come around for birthdays and field trips to the zoo?"

    Liara sighed. "I told you, this wasn't for your sake. I have a lot of information at my disposal, and Rhien is perceptive. She has seen old vids of you, interviews and footage from the wars, and she's seen the biographies about you, and she had you built up in her mind as some sort of hero who would rescue her from her terrible life."

    "She's six," Shepard said. "How terrible can it be?"

    "That's what I wanted her to see. That she's not missing out on romantic adventures." She stepped forward, took Shepard's shoulders in her hands. "I don't expect anything of you, Shepard. I am perfectly capable of raising Rhien on my own. Perhaps when she's old enough—"

    "By the time she's old enough to come looking for me again," Shepard said, "I'll probably be dead and buried."

    "That is a possibility." Liara searched her face—for what? "Death becomes you, Shepard," she said at last, softly, and her eyes flicked to Zaeed and back. "Are you—happy?"

    "I have what I need."

    Liara nodded slowly. "If you wish," she said, "you are more than welcome to remain in touch. But I will understand if you want no part in her life."

    "I have never wanted to raise kids, Liara," Shepard told her frankly. "But I might drop you a line now and again just to see how things are going. If that's all right."

    Liara smiled, then. "I think she would like that very much." She lowered her hands and stepped back. "I have already transferred the credits to your account. When Feron returns, he will take you anywhere you need to go."

    "Shadow Broker," Glyph interrupted, "the turian Councillor's mate has awakened from the surgery."

    Liara did not look at the drone. "And?"

    "Everything went well, and she will recover. The Councillor sends his gratitude for your assistance in researching her illness."

    "Good. Send him the usual response."

    "Very well, Shadow Broker." Glyph bobbed away.

    Something made an urgent sound on the console in the centre of the room. Liara turned immediately to attend to it, and was soon entirely absorbed in her work. Shepard looked at Zaeed. He tilted his head toward the door and she nodded in return.

    They exited the room together, unnoticed.

    In the hall, Shepard used her omnitool to check their account. "Shit," she murmured.

    "What?"

    "Look how much she gave us."

    Zaeed leaned in to look. "That's more than the contract specified," he noted.

    "It is." Shepard shut down her omnitool, glanced over her shoulder at the door, then looked up at Zaeed. "We could take a break, if you like. Travel somewhere."

    Zaeed dropped his duffel at his feet, folded his arms. "To what end?"

    She smiled faintly. "Look for some land to buy. I hear Bekenstein's still cheap."

    "Not a lot rebuilt on Bekenstein yet," Zaeed reminded her.

    "That's why it's going cheap."

    He watched her a moment. "Let's talk about that, then," he said. "If you're serious."

    "Very serious."

    "All right." Arms still folded he faced her, rested one shoulder on the wall. They stood in comfortable silence, waiting, until Feron returned.

    "Get her put down?" Shepard asked.

    "Yes, finally. She gets a little intractable when she's overtired." Feron smiled. "Liara says I'm to take you wherever you need to go."

    "Nearest port will do fine," Zaeed said, and picked up his duffel. "We'll take it from there."

    Shepard could not be sure if the two-hour trip was legitimately two hours of travel, or if Feron had taken an indirect and circular route to the nearest port. She suspected the latter. It didn't matter; she didn't need to know where Liara's base was located. She and Zaeed bade Feron farewell and watched as he took off once more in the cruiser.

    They found a nearby hotel and booked a room. Once inside they dropped their armour and their clothes and tumbled into the clean bed and they argued over whose turn it was to be on top. Shepard claimed that it was still her turn from the previous job; Zaeed insisted that she had forfeited her turn when she had taken a new job, and that since his kill count had been higher on Illium it was now his turn. The argument was settled neatly when Zaeed thrust his face between her legs and Shepard decided that it really wasn't important who had won what where because really it was as delightful to lose to Zaeed as it was to win.
    
    In the morning Shepard woke to find Zaeed sitting next to her in the bed with a large mug of coffee held close to her face. "The man is after my heart," Shepard sighed. She sat up and took the coffee gratefully, gulped down a couple of scalding mouthfuls, and leaned close for a good morning kiss. He had also ordered breakfast from the kitchen, and they sat in the bed and ate it while watching the local news.

    "So," Shepard said. "You knew she had the kid."

    Zaeed shrugged. "Like I said, I guessed. She looked different."

    "You never said anything to me about it."

    "I figured if Liara wanted you to know, you'd know. And I also figured that if you had a brain in your head, which you do, you'd have realised what she did anyway."

    Shepard sighed. "I did," she said. She leaned back against the headboard, turned to look at him. Zaeed leaned back as well. "Does it bother you?"

    "Why the hell should it bother me?"

    "I don't know."

    "Does it bother you, Shepard?"

    "No."

    "Well, then." Zaeed bit into a piece of toast and chewed thoughtfully, his eyes on the vidscreen. Shepard drank her coffee and listened to the news, blessedly free from threats of galactic annihilation.

    "Want to stay here tonight, too?" she wondered. "I kind of want to stay in bed all day."

    "Yeah," Zaeed said, with a half-smile. "Booked for three nights, like I promised."

    She leaned over to kiss his ear. "You are the best."

    "I know it," he said.

    "Then we can scout passage to Bekenstein day after tomorrow. See what we can find out there."

    "All right."

    They watched the news and dozed comfortably over the rest of their breakfast.