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Chapter Text

We all have an image of Dr. Liara T’Soni in our minds. As a member of the now-infamous Normandy crew, her face is plastered alongside such notable figures as Garrus Vakarian and Tali’Zorah vas Rannoch in post-war celebratory propaganda. Her story was an inspiration to many across the galaxy: shunned and dismissed for her genius, forced to hide away from society, only to end up as the one responsible for providing the information we needed to defeat the greatest foe in galactic history. The perfect motivation for any bookworm out there (myself included, of course!) and a sterling example of how important it is to listen to the voices of others.

I much prefer that one over the other image most citizens have of her; the same one that dominated every news cycle on every world fifty years after the war ended. The esteemed doctor, now known by a certain criminal alias, taken into custody both for her own crimes and for assisting her bondmate in crimes that were far more severe. Liara T’Soni, the Shadow Broker, keeping her temper even and calm throughout her trial despite the neverending media circus surrounding it. Vids of her sentencing display a perfectly serene expression even when it was determined that she would spend the remaining centuries of her life in prison. In both cases, one particularly striking feature remains the same: her vivid blue eyes, shining bright with quiet defiance.

How strange it is, then, that those eyes seem entirely lightless when they first meet mine.

Like most asari, Dr. T’Soni has aged very little in the past 500 years. While unmistakably a matron, there is almost nothing on her face to show how much time has passed since those old vids were taken. The only difference is in the eyes, and I highly doubt that has anything to do with age. After centuries in prison, a woman of any species would obviously have no small measure of difficulty maintaining such a powerful spark of life.

That doesn’t mean she seems unkind, of course! Her smile is warm and genuine when she greets me, and she moves with the poise of a matriarch as she crosses the room and takes her seat on the other side of the biotic-resistant glass panel between us. The white robe she wears, standard garb for asari prisoners, gives her an almost regal air; if I’m being honest, it reminds me a bit of the footage I saw of her mother, Matriarch Benezia, during my research for this article. Just one of many similarities between the two of them, I suppose.

The guards remain standing on either side of her once she’s seated. I’ve been given leave to speak freely with her, but I understand that cautions need to be taken with such a dangerous prisoner. Looking at her, though, you’d never guess what she was truly capable of. As soon as our conversation begins, I can tell that I’m in for the interview of a lifetime.

Doctor T’Soni, I’m Jordan Bakari with the Neo-Alliance Historical Review. Thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me today.  

It’s my pleasure, Ms. Bakari. Please, call me Liara. I haven’t been a doctor in quite some time.

Well then, I suppose that’s a good place to start. Your alma mater revoked your degree four years after your sentencing, much to the dismay of academics around the galaxy who had used your work in their own studies. Do you believe that the University of Serrice was justified in its decision?

Well, I don’t want to say anything too negative about the institution. Especially to another alumnus.

Wait, how did you-

Jordan Bakari, class of 2670. You received your master’s degree in journalism in 2674, but chose not to pursue a PHD. I can understand the decision; having a dissertation rejected is very demoralizing. If it makes you feel any better, my first three were all rejected.

How…what? You read my dissertation? That’s not publicly available.

I’m pleased to hear that human organizations have become more open to funding education in asari universities; you received a scholarship through the Lawson-Nought Foundation, correct?

I…I did, yes.

That’s wonderful. They do incredible work.

Doctor, how do you know all this?

(T’Soni smiles at me, but doesn’t respond. The silence is probably the only answer I’m likely to get.)

…Right. Let’s continue. I’d like to speak more with you about the academic process that led you to develop the “Cycles of Extinction” theory if we have time, but your mention of strained human-asari relations leads into a much larger question that I planned to ask today. Namely, the expulsion of the asari from the same Citadel Council they first created.

Of course. I understand that there’s some measure of confusion regarding my stance on the decision.

As the Shadow Broker, you ordered multiple assassinations meant to keep the Athame Beacon’s existence hidden from the rest of the galaxy. At the same time, you were a harsh critic of the matriarchs and their role in withholding so much vital information from other species. What made you change your mind?

I never changed my mind. During the immediate post-Crucible reconstruction years, we couldn’t have anyone or anything upsetting the momentary instance of galactic peace. Bickering over the beacon would only have slowed down a vital process. That doesn’t mean I agreed with the principle of keeping it a secret.

So that’s why you leaked the relay-specific information from the beacon to other species?

Exactly. Reconstruction first, consequences later. The war was a…different time. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

Sounds familiar.

It would, wouldn’t it?

Then did you support the decision to strip the asari of their Council position?

No. I believe that it would have made more sense to re-evaluate the role matriarchs play in asari society, restructure as necessary, and to replace our Councilor with one who was more interested in the galactic community as a whole than purely asari well-being. But the matriarchs were too afraid of losing their status among our people, and as such did not make an effective case for maintaining our status as a Council race.

In that case, I can imagine that you’re pleased with the recent political pressure to formally outlaw the unwritten privileges afforded to matriarchs within the democratic process?

Absolutely. I would wish the advocates of change well and offer my support, but given my position…I can imagine that my support would be more of a blessing than a curse. Hopefully they can find some individuals of equal public knowledge to support them without the baggage of being labeled a war criminal.

[Laughs] I’ll see what I can do. We have a lot more to tackle, but I’d like to clarify one more point on this matter: you mentioned your surprise at a human organization funding an asari institution. When the information about the Athame Beacon was revealed, humanity’s reaction was one of the strongest in the galaxy. Some parties, such as the now-defunct Terra Firma Party, called for the asari to be expelled from Citadel space entirely. It took pushback from both the quarian and turian governments to avoid that drastic an outcome. Do you have any comments on that?

I suppose it has something to do with how similar humans believe the asari are to them. In my experience, most humans seem to connect more easily with asari than with other species–perhaps due to the similarities in our appearance, or perhaps due to our peaceful first contact with them at the end of the Relay 314 Incident–and as a result, deception on our part felt like a deeper betrayal than one from another species. That isn’t to put all the blame on humanity, of course; we asari have benefited greatly from how other species see us. Or did benefit greatly from, I suppose.

Are you saying that it was our–rather, humanity’s–fault?

Of course not. It was no one species’ fault. The responsibility lies with those whose duty it is to create the “truth” for their people to see. The Systems Alliance just happened to have parties with a vested interest in making sure that “truth” painted other species in as negative a light as possible. It’s just politics, Ms. Bakari.

Do you think it’s possible for any government to create an objective truth?

If I thought that, why would I have done the things they accuse me of doing?

That’s a fair point. On that note, why don’t we turn to those accusations? There’s quite a long list to go through, and judging by your phrasing I can imagine that you believe some or all of them to be fraudulent.

Not all. Many of the charges are true, and I will not shy away from that. I spent only a few short decades hiding in the shadows, and I’ve since spent centuries in the light. Hiding no longer serves a purpose.

You’re referring, of course, to your tenure as the Shadow Broker.

Yes.

Your role as the Broker and subsequent impact on the war has been an extremely divisive point in history. Some records call you an unsung hero who worked tirelessly to support resistance movements on the ground and provide resources to assist in constructing the Crucible, while others call you a ruthless kingpin who took advantage of the chaos to impose your will on the galaxy and silence objections to both yourself and…

Goddess, you can say her name. I’m not about to have a breakdown because someone mentioned my bondmate.

Of course. I’d like to talk about your own actions a bit more before we start discussing hers, but it’s certainly worth mentioning your role in suppressing evidence of war crimes committed by former Alliance Commander Jane Shepard. 

We can talk about Shepard when you’re done with the current topic. There’s much to be said, and I’d prefer to say it all at once.

I understand. As I mentioned, there are multiple perceptions of your tenure as the Shadow Broker. Which one would you say is the most accurate?

Most historical debates include valid points on both sides. I ran into the exact same thing when I was still an archaeologist, and my old research papers offer more than enough evidence. While my Cycle of Extinction theory was correct, my naive ideas about Prothean society were proven utterly incorrect by Javik’s description of the empire as an imperialist power. The same is true of history’s perception of my own actions.

Javik being the subject and co-author of Journeys With the Prothean, I assume?

That’s correct. We were initially very hostile to one another, but he ultimately ended up as an invaluable source of Prothean knowledge. For all his faults, the galaxy is lesser for his loss.

He took his own life after you two published the book, correct?

Yes. I do miss him in my own way.

At least his legend lives on. Despite your reputation, Journeys With the Prothean is still required reading in most courses on Prothean Studies.

I’m surprised to hear those courses still exist, given how much more we know about them. But I’m pleased that the intrepid spirit of exploration lives on.

They certainly do. Many students of the Leviathan Codex use the Protheans as a point of reference. It’s a vital field of study.

Do you know much about it?

Are you…trying to reverse this interview?

Indulge me.

Um, okay. I don’t know much about it, but my bondmate has a doctorate in Codex Studies.

You’re bonded? Congratulations. How long have you two been together?

About ten years. We had our first child a few years back.

That’s wonderful! I’m happy for you both.

Thank you. Now, about your role as the Shadow Broker…

Right. Of course. I apologize. There aren’t many opportunities to learn about new people in here. As for my role, I obviously lean toward the former. I did fund resistance groups during the war, and I did also use the network to provide resources for the Crucible. My predecessor was a self-serving individual, and I took over the network for the specific purpose of helping to defend the galaxy against the Reaper threat.

So you used your powers for good, as it were.

I did. But sometimes what I considered good didn’t line up with the galaxy’s perception. I suppose the accusations that I sought to shape the galaxy into a form I deemed necessary aren’t entirely unfounded. 

How so?

As I said before, the galaxy needed stability in order to efficiently repair the damage that was done by the Crucible. I had no desire to become a ruler or grant myself any specific measure of power, but it was my responsibility to ensure a better future for all of us. Did I dirty my hands? Of course. Did I take actions that many would consider immoral? Without question. But I make no apologies for any of it. As I said before, it was necessary. 

Do you believe that the individuals who revealed your identity and brought about your arrest were unjustified?

I…I don’t know. There was so much more I could have done for the galaxy, but I can’t blame those who thought I should be punished for my crimes.

Even though they were necessary?

Yes. They were necessary, and I stand by them. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel any guilt or regret. I wish that they hadn’t been necessary. It would have made things so much simpler.

I don’t understand. Are you saying you did the wrong thing for the right reasons, or…

I didn’t do the wrong thing. I did things that were reprehensible and that I understand merited consequences, things that would be wrong in other circumstances, and I wish I could recognize them as being wrong. But they weren’t. I suppose the best way to put it would be to say that I did the cruel thing for the right reasons.

I’m not sure I see the difference.

Neither did the rest of the galaxy.

And what about the other accusations? Namely the claim that you provided the Crucible blueprints with full knowledge of what the effects would be and hid them from the team building it?

Not true.

The assassination of Urdnot Wrex?

Not true.

The destruction of the Normandy SR-2 and its remaining crew?

Not true.

Are any of them true?

Yes. I ensured safe passage for the individuals responsible for the assassination of Councilor Sparatus, and I provided armaments and financial support to assist Aria T’Loak in maintaining sovereignty of Omega. And I assisted my bondmate, of course.

You’re quick to admit to some pretty damning activities.

What reason do I have to hide them? The assassins are dead. Aria is dead. It’s all history.

I suppose you’re right. Although you haven’t exactly settled the debate about whether or not you were on the right side of history.

[Laughs] Even I can’t do the impossible.

Speaking of doing the impossible…

Is it time to talk about her?

If you’re willing.

I’ll say what I can, but I hope you’ll understand if some things are too personal to discuss.

Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

Then go ahead.

Chapter Text

Let’s start with a brief recap for those less familiar with the details. Former Alliance Commander Jane Shepard, Savior of the Galaxy, Destroyer of the Reapers, Architect of Genocide. Perhaps the most controversial figure in galactic history. And your former bondmate.

Not former. She may have departed this galaxy, but she will always be my bondmate. She is the father of my daughters and the only woman I will ever love.

She destroyed the geth and drove the krogan to extinction. She blew up a Mass Relay, killing hundreds of thousands of civilians. She performed extrajudicial killings of noncombatants both before and after the Reaper War. There are even rumors that she wiped out the last surviving rachni, although the galactic community at large seems to look on that decision more positively than the others.

That’s true. She did kill the last rachni queen.

I see. Well, I suppose that’s another controversial aspect of her history for the galactic community to debate. And she’s certainly been the subject of an extraordinary amount of debates over the last five centuries already.

She saved the galaxy. What is there to debate?

That’s true. Nobody can argue the fact that we all owe her our lives. But during that process, she took the lives of millions of innocent individuals. Many believe that those deaths were unnecessary, and that she could have saved the galaxy without leaving such an astronomical body count in her wake.

I’m not hearing a question.

I apologize. What I mean to ask is: do you have a stance on how the history books should view Shepard?

Jane Shepard was a hero. All other choices she made pale in comparison to what she did for the galaxy. It was worth the cost.

Are you saying that good deeds absolve an individual of their bad decisions?

Good deeds? Caring for a starving animal is a good deed. Housing the less fortunate is a good deed. A phrase that simple cannot hope to encompass the enormity of what she did. Millions upon millions of years of galactic genocide were brought to an end by her hand. She avenged the dead so numerous that we could never hope to count them all. Shepard was the greatest individual who ever lived. Not a single person out there has the right to judge her.

Then did the krogan deserve to die?

I…

And the geth?

That’s not what I meant.

If we can’t judge her, then are we unable to question her actions? Was every choice she made the right one?

No, of course not! She was fallible, just like all of us. I’m not trying to put her on a pedestal. I only mean to say that history should be willing to accept her more…questionable actions without diminishing her status as a hero.

What about her actions after the war?

She did what she believed was best for the galaxy. I support her decisions.

Dr. T’Soni, she executed multiple galactic leaders for their perceived failure to meet her demands during the war. That wasn’t a sacrifice made to defeat the Reapers: it was a personal desire for revenge.

Those leaders would have interfered with the reconstruction process. I will not condemn her actions. And, well…

Well?

I’m not foolish enough to pretend I didn’t have a personal stake in the matter. We could have saved so many more lives if we had been blessed with a more cooperative galaxy. Those in power had no right to stand in the way of peace. She did so much for them and their people, and they refused to trust her. I do not mourn them; I mourn those who died because of their foolishness.

Then are Shepard’s war crimes their fault?

You’re oversimplifying. “Fault” implies wrongdoing. As I said before, I do not believe that what she did was wrong. Regrettable, yes, but not wrong.

Let me rephrase: were Shepard’s actions made necessary by the failure of these galactic leaders?

Some of them, yes. Sabotaging the genophage cure may have been avoidable if the Salarian Union had not threatened to withhold fleet strength and aid for the Crucible project otherwise.

You’re saying that the claims about Dalatrass Linron’s interference with the cure are true.

Absolutely. Shepard even recorded the conversation, although I can imagine it would be a bit difficult to locate the file after all this time.

Is that why she killed Linron?

I believe so, although that may not have been the only reason. Linron was a roadblock on multiple occasions, and my intelligence suggests that she at one point went as far as to give the location of one of her own bases on Sur’Kesh to Cerberus in order to stop us from recovering a high value individual.

That’s quite damning. Why didn’t you bring that up during the trial? I’m sure that recording could have been a vital piece of evidence for historical record, if nothing else.

What difference would it have made? She was on trial for murdering her. Presenting the jury with a valid reason for her action would not have erased the action.

You use that word a lot: “action.” Is it for the sake of convenience, or is it a way to detach yourself from what she did?

I don’t need to detach myself. I’m merely viewing it in the simplest terms. Shepard took numerous actions that the galactic community considered villainous, and restating the specifics of them is pointless. I doubt that anyone reading this interview will require a list of names and places to know what she did.

So you don’t feel a need to distance yourself from those…actions.

If I did, I wouldn’t be discussing them as freely as I am. Nor would I have played the role I did in suppressing evidence of said actions.

You stand by them, but you were also willing to hide their existence? Why do that if you believe they were justified?

Please, Mrs. Bakari, don’t be naive. I used my network to suppress the evidence because I knew that the rest of the galaxy would never understand. Shepard was already facing far more criticism than she deserved, and I wanted to avoid fanning those flames.

You were protecting her.

Of course I was. Would you do any less for your bondmate?

I…

Don’t worry. It was a rhetorical question.

…I see. Would you have made the same choices if Shepard hadn’t been your bondmate?

Yes.

Does that include your suppression of the post-war crimes she committed?

Yes.

Do you consider her crimes during the war were less questionable as a result of their context?

Are you familiar with the concept of “ruthless calculus,” Mrs. Bakari?

Of course. The “ruthless calculus of war.” The term originated from Garrus Vakarian, if I recall correctly.

It did. In fact, he first used the term during a conversation with Jane. “Ten billion over here die so twenty billion over there can live.” Does history remember her response?

It does not.

She said that she wouldn’t hesitate to make that kind of decision. Hesitation would mean extinction. Her crimes were insignificant when she undertook them for the sake of ruthless calculus. I believe that the term applies to her actions after the war as well, but there is room to debate that element of her history.

Speaking of Garrus Vakarian, he was one of Shepard’s most outspoken defenders during her trial. Any talk of him becoming the new Primarch of Palaven vanished as a result of his choice to support her. Do you know why he spoke up when so many of her former teammates kept quiet?

Garrus was a dear friend. He was also the only person that Shepard confided in regarding her sabotage while the war was still ongoing–other than me, of course. He supported her choice then, and his opinion never changed. There’s a reason he coined the term. He understood her, and he understood the pressure she was under in a way that I don’t believe the others could. If the rest of the galaxy understood the way he did, they wouldn’t have brought charges against Shepard in the first place.

That explains why he had significantly less to say about her post-war crimes. They didn’t fit that logic.

I believe he understood her reasoning, but it was harder to defend them, yes. Some of those leaders–take Thea Tevos as an example–were well-loved by their people despite their failures during the war. But that didn’t absolve them of the needless deaths that resulted from their selfish choices. Had Tevos informed Shepard of the Athame Beacon earlier, it is possible that Thessia could have been spared. Shepard killed innocents for the sake of victory; those leaders killed innocents out of selfishness.

But with the Reapers gone, what risk did they pose to the galaxy? Surely charging them for their past obstruction of the war effort would have been a better choice?

Oh, please. What jury would convict them? Shepard knew that there was only one way they would ever face justice.

It wasn’t even worth trying?

That’s correct.

How can you be so certain?

I was the Shadow Broker. My agents provided me with more than enough information about their governments’ inner workings. There was only one possible conclusion.

That would have been worth bringing up at her trial. Speaking of which…critics noted that you were remarkably quiet during said trial. You issued few written statements and never made a public appearance, nor did you mount any real defense against what you claim were unjust charges. Why is that?

It was her request.

But you had evidence that could have supported her actions. The recording of Linron’s demands could have swayed the jury when it came to the question of her sabotage. Why wouldn’t she want that presented at the trial?

Well, one part of it was a desire to avoid risking my identity as the Shadow Broker being divulged by an outside party as retaliation for my potential role in the trial. But that was only one small part of it.

What were the other parts?

I had to focus on raising our children, for one. Getting tangled up in a trial that could have lasted years would have left me with less time to take care of Artemis and Benezia during their formative years.

Makes sense.

But above all that…she wanted to protect me. To make sure I didn’t have to endure the spotlight. Staying quiet meant avoiding attention. It meant being able to live my life to the fullest–or at least as full as it could be without her at my side.

Even if it meant her receiving a harsher sentence?

Of course. She was always prepared to make sacrifices for my sake. Even before the war. I knew my life meant more to her than her own.

Did you struggle with that knowledge?

At first. When I lost her in 2183, I couldn’t bear the pain. I wished that I had been on the SR-1 with her, that I had died by her side. That I had refused her demand to leave the ship. But by rescuing her body and handing it over to Cerberus, I made up for that failure. I undid her sacrifice. When I did that, I hoped it meant that I would always be able to avert the prices she paid for my sake.

Wait, hang on. You gave her body to Cerberus? Historical records state that the organization recovered her body from Alchera.

Of course they do. I wrote them.

…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. How many other records did you falsify?

I’m not going to answer that.

Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.

[Laughs] I suppose not. As long as you don’t expect me to give you any hints about the current Broker’s identity.

Do you know who it is?

Ms. Bakari, please.

[Laughs] I’m sorry, doctor. You set me up for that one.

I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.

Of course. Now, about Cerberus: I don’t plan to go over Shepard’s involvement with the organization in detail, as that topic has been covered extensively elsewhere. I would, however, like to ask about your choice not to participate in the Cerberus-funded attack on the Collector base, known informally as the “suicide mission.” Is it true that you refused Shepard’s request for assistance on said expedition?

Yes.

Spectre Kaidan Alenko and Urdnot Wrex were also recorded as refusing to join the mission, due to Alliance loyalties and responsibility to the krogan people, respectively. Why did you refuse?

There were multiple reasons, though I doubt that comes as a surprise. For the most part, I knew I had a responsibility to maintain control of the Broker network in order to better prepare the galaxy for the Reaper invasion. But deep down, a part of me was held back by fear.

Fear of the mission? 

No, it wasn’t that. It was fear that she wouldn’t come back to me. I…I couldn’t watch her die again. It was a selfish reason, and one I’ve had centuries to regret. Perhaps if I’d gone with them, some of the casualties could have been avoided. She forgave me when she returned, of course, but I’m still not sure if I’ve managed to forgive myself.

You said she came back to you when the mission was complete. Was this before or after she destroyed the Bahak system?

Before. We spoke briefly afterward, but didn’t have much time to discuss what happened before she was taken into Alliance custody.

Her destruction of the “Alpha Relay” has been widely condemned by historians. The fact that she trusted an indoctrinated source and destroyed the relay with no further evidence, combined with the fact that the Reapers later arrived in a completely different part of the Hegemony, has led to a belief that the relay’s destruction was a ploy meant to interfere with Shepard’s role in preparing for war. Some have referred to it as a “false flag operation.” Do you think she made a mistake?

Irrelevant. Whether or not the information was true, she destroyed the relay to protect the galaxy from the Reapers. If she was correct, then she saved us all. If she wasn’t, then it was an acceptable sacrifice. I don’t expect those who didn’t live through the war to understand just how dangerous it would have been for her to hesitate.

So the Alliance taking her into custody for killing 300,000 civilians wasn’t justified?

The Alliance didn’t take her into custody for the destruction caused by the relay explosion. By Admiral Steven Hackett’s own admission, they took her into custody to prevent war with the Hegemony. While imprisoning her left the galaxy less prepared for the Reaper invasion, I can understand their choice. A war with the Hegemony would most likely have jeopardized the galactic response to a much greater degree.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

Exactly.

You located the Crucible blueprints during that window, correct?

Well, it wasn’t just me. The entire research team on Mars deserves equal credit for their work. Had Cerberus not executed them, I believe we could have finished the Crucible in half the time. Given his indoctrinated state, I assume that the Illusive Man ordered them killed for that exact reason.

So you knew them well?

As well as I could during the few months I was there. They were good people who had put years into the thankless and underfunded task of beacon data analysis, and their excitement at the prospect of finally being granted the resources they deserved was infectious. Had the Alliance spent more on scientific research rather than building cruiser after cruiser, well…things would have been very different.

Once the Crucible blueprints had been handed over to the Alliance, you chose to remain on the Normandy SR-2 rather than join the science team. Did you choose to do so bec–

I’m sorry, can you excuse me for a moment?

(One of her guards whispers something in her ear. She nods at them and gives me an apologetic smile.)

I apologize, Ms. Bakari, but I’m afraid I’m needed on an urgent call. Could we perhaps continue this at a later date?

I understand. Do you have time for one last question before you go? It was one submitted by our readers.

Of course.

How would you respond to the outspoken movement that refers to Shepard as a “monster?”

[Takes a deep breath] That’s…quite the question.

If you don’t have time for it–

No, no. That’s alright. I have my answer.

Which is?

…I understand why others might see her that way. She could be cold, and she could be cruel. She pushed others away, turned allies into enemies, and gave the galaxy more than enough reason to fear her. But from the day we met…goddess, she was so kind to me. She was quiet, and gentle...and vulnerable. When we were alone together, she would tell me about how much those burdens weighed on her. She listened to my struggles and comforted me in my darkest moments. I know it might be selfish to base my perception on a side of her she only revealed to me, but...I could never see her as a monster, no matter what she did. I can only see her as the kind, gentle woman she was when we were together. A monster couldn’t love anyone the way she loved me. That is my answer.

Dr. T’Soni, thank you so much for your time.

It was my pleasure. I look forward to speaking with you again.

Likewise, Doctor.

Please, just call me Liara.

I will. Thank you, Liara.

You’re welcome, Jordan. Goddess be with you.

Chapter Text

After another round of molecular scanning to ensure she hadn’t been given anything by the prisoner, Jordan Bakari stepped out of the complex and took a deep breath of warm Thessian air. Parnitha had begun to set during her time inside, and the parking lot was bathed in a deep orange glow. She was still buzzing with excitement over what she’d just accomplished; not only had she pulled off an exclusive interview with Liara T’Soni, she’d gotten several responses that would make amazing vid bites. Her list of questions was going to have to be even longer next time.

“How did it go?”

Jordan yelped as a low, gravely voice spoke to her seemingly from nowhere. She spun around in search of the source, but realized quickly that they were hidden by some sort of stealth technology. Given who the individual in question apparently was, such precautions did make sense.

“It went well, I think?” she replied, uncertain. “It’ll be a damn good story, at least.”

“Give me the file.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do after you helped set me up with this opportunity.”

The individual in question uncloaked and stepped forward. They wore a strange floor-length leather jacket and an opaque helmet that reminded Jordan of the protective suits quarians used to wear in the age of the Migrant Fleet. If she didn’t know better, Jordan would have assumed they were a quarian outright, but the straightness of their legs suggested that they were either human, asari, or possibly raloi. Asari was the most likely possibility given where they were, but neither their voice nor body shape were clear enough to note the specifics of an asari frame or distinct ethereal element of their voices.

Jordan couldn’t help sparing a moment to think of her bondmate, grateful as hell that translation technology had improved enough over the centuries to properly communicate unique elements of different species’ vocalization and thus given her an opportunity to hear just how beautiful asari voices sounded. Had Shepard ever gotten the chance to hear Liara like that before she disappeared? She’d have to ask that next time.

“The file. Now.”

“Right. Sorry.”

She held up her omni and transferred the full contents of the interview, both audio and video, to her mysterious contact. The contact nodded when the transfer was complete, then tapped a few buttons before bringing her fingers to her ear to activate her communicator.

“Broker, this is 17. File in question has been transferred. Awaiting your approval.”

Jordan started fidgeting nervously as she waited for a response. The Broker’s agent had told her that they had no plans to censor the article, but did want to ensure they had time to prepare a response before it went public. That seemed completely reasonable, but Jordan couldn’t help worrying. After all, it was the agent who had gotten her the clearance to speak with such a heavily guarded prisoner. She wasn’t sure why she’d been the one given the offer, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. As long as the Broker liked the interview, then…

“This is the Broker,” a heavily modified voice spoke from the agent’s communicator. “Is Bakari present?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Bakari, your interview has been approved. It seems that you plan to speak with T’Soni again; if so, you are to once again share the results with my agent before going to press. Is that understood?”

“Of course, Broker. Thank you.”

The Shadow Broker didn’t respond, simply ending communications. The agent deactivated her communicator and sent the files back to the reporter. Jordan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well done,” the agent told her, a surprising hint of emotion creeping into their voice. “The Review will be pleased. I would like to express gratitude on behalf of the Broker.”

“...Thank you,” Jordan said quietly, uncertain how to respond. “I’m…glad you liked it? Or, um…that is…”

The agent nodded and stepped away,not giving Jordan time to finish. “Goodbye, Mrs. Bakari. If you return for another interview, you will see me again. Until then, you are not to attempt contact under any circumstances.”

Jordan nodded. “Right. Yes. Understood.”

“Be well.”

17 stepped back into the shadows and instantly disappeared. Jordan didn’t bother looking around for them; it’s not like she’d be able to see anything even if she tried. All that mattered was that she had the go-ahead to publish the interview. This was probably going to be the biggest story the Review had ever published…and it was hers.

Damn, it felt good. Hitting the highlight of her career and going home to her bondmate and daughter? By the goddess, she was living the dream.

Here’s hoping it’d last.

Chapter Text

Much has changed in the six months since my first interview with Liara T’Soni; far more than anyone, myself included, could have expected.

The “urgent call” that interrupted our discussion? That just so happened to be the extremely controversial conversation with the Council that’s had the galaxy in an uproar since the details first came to light. While the finer details are still being uncovered, the Council has openly acknowledged that they collaborated with T’Soni in the resolution of an incident that was “critical to maintaining galactic peace.” The rumors that she may have been granted a reduced sentence–a significantly reduced sentence, to be precise–have been flying like nobody’s business.

It’s a bit surreal to hear that my interview played a role in shifting the discussion surrounding her and causing her to be viewed in a more positive light, especially given her adamant defense of some truly horrific war crimes. The fact that I ended up being interviewed myself has me feeling like I’m traveling down the rabbit hole by speaking with her again.

But when I see her again, it feels like nothing’s changed. She still carries herself with the same authority and offers the same neutral pleasantries. Despite everything, it’s surprisingly easy to pick up right where we left off.

Dr. T’So–Liara. Thank you for taking the time to see me again.

It’s my pleasure. How have you been, Jordan?

Quite well, all things considered. It was awfully disorienting at first, but I’ve gotten a handle on it. Hopefully speaking with you again will help answer a few ongoing mysteries. If you can talk about them, that is.

Well, I’ll help how I can. A majority of what transpired was classified, but I think I can address a rumor or two. I do hope you brought your original questions as well.

Absolutely. There’s a lot of ground I’d still like to cover.

Then why don’t you pick up where we left off? We can discuss the newest events when the time comes.

That sounds perfect. Now then, if I recall correctly, we had last begun to discuss your choice to join the SR-2 crew rather than actively participate in the Crucible’s construction. What led you to make that decision? Was it professional or personal?

As usual, it was both. I believed that my Broker resources would be much more effective searching for the Catalyst than they would be providing manual labor for the Crucible. There was also the matter of combat efficiency; Shepard wanted as many members of the original SR-1 team onboard as possible in order to maintain that same synergy in those dire straits.

But…

I wanted to be with Shepard again. We had been apart for so long, and our relationship status was…uncertain. I knew it was entirely possible that she might choose to be with someone else. But even if that had been the case…she needed me, and I needed her. The burden she carried had been multiplied a thousandfold by the war. And as I said before, I was the only one she could share that burden with. Alone, it would have broken her.

That can’t have been easy for either of you.

It wasn’t. At the time, she wasn’t a myth: she was a human being. And those choices that history has come to condemn? She didn’t make them without remorse. She carried so much grief, so much pain from the cruel things she was forced to do.

Did she regret them?

She didn’t regret doing them, but she regretted that she had to do them. If there had been another path, she would have taken it. She didn’t enjoy killing civilians, but she never hesitated to do it if it meant saving the galaxy. Can you imagine the toll that would take? Knowing that you were responsible for slaughter, and knowing that the fate of the galaxy demanded it?

No. I can’t. 

Neither can I. Much as I shared her burden, I knew I could never fully comprehend the depths of her suffering. The meld allowed me to take some of it into myself, but deep down I recognized that it was just a few drops of a vast ocean. I told her that myself, apologizing for my shortcomings.

How did she reply?

Oh, with a quote from some century-old book of hers. Something about drops making up an ocean or some such. I remember being surprised by that; she wasn’t much of a reader, you see. She didn’t appreciate art very much in general. That changed after the war, of course.

How so?

Shepard became very invested in asari culture while I was pregnant with Artemis. She was determined to be a loving father, and she wanted to ensure that she embodied the traditions of our people as a part of that process. Our paintings and sculptures, our poetry, our holiday celebrations…she spent so much time learning to appreciate them. Goddess bless her, she even tried to learn how to read our language. [Laughs] That didn’t go very well.

It sounds like you two were able to find happiness despite everything that took place during and after the war. How did you manage that when, as you said, the burden of your actions were on the verge of crushing you?

There is a certain privilege of being a mother. Of being a father, too. How best to put it…I suppose you could say that there is power in creation. When the two of us created a new life, it felt like we were shaping the galaxy for the better. It was…redemptive. That isn’t to say we had a child to assuage our guilt, of course!

No, no, it’s alright. I understand the feeling.

Oh, that’s right! You’re a father yourself. I can imagine some of this feels rather redundant.

I’m sure our readers will appreciate it.

Of course. Now then, as I was saying…in Artemis, we had a future. Our hopes and dreams were devoted to her. To ensure she grew up happy and loved, and that she could live a life free from the Reaper threat. Even now, all these centuries later, I feel so much love and pride for my daughters.

I can’t imagine what it must have been like to…

To lose them?

If you’d rather not talk about it, I completely understand. We can move on to some of my other questions.

No, it’s…it’s alright. I don’t mind.

Are you certain?

Yes. Ask away.

…If you’re sure. When you were sentenced in 2238, you had been your daughters’ sole parent for about 20 years. After the trial, you granted custody of your daughters to their grandfather, Matriarch Aethyta. She passed away in 2441. Had you and Shepard discussed who would be given custody in the event that the two of you were imprisoned?

We made our decision before Artemis was even born. It wasn’t just imprisonment; we knew we’d amassed enough enemies that we could end up suffering a more…permanent fate. My father always regretted that she hadn’t been a part of my life and had made it clear that she wanted to be there for her granddaughters as much as she could. She didn’t hesitate to agree when we asked her to serve as their guardian in the event of our passing. And while the situation didn’t end up the way we expected, I knew that my daughters would be in good hands. Aethyta raised them well.

Have you been able to keep in touch with them?

I wasn’t initially able to; during my first decade in prison, I wasn’t allowed contact with anyone outside the facility’s walls to prevent me maintaining control over the Shadow Broker network. Once it was determined that the risk was no longer present, I finally had the opportunity to see them. They’ve visited me every year since. I couldn’t be more proud of the women they’ve become.

That’s wonderful.

It is. Meeting Benezia’s daughter for the first time was one of the happiest moments of my life, although it was admittedly strange to have become a grandmother while still trapped within these walls. I’m certain Jane would have somehow found a way to be even more overjoyed. That’s true of most milestones in their lives, of course.

How old were they when she…

Artemis was 27. Benezia was only 21. To have had two decades with their father is still a blessing; we both knew that she wouldn’t live to see them reach maturity. Then again, with those implants, I suppose it could have been possible. We knew she would live longer than an average human, but we never found out how long.

That brings me to my next question, although I can imagine it’s one you’ve been asked countless times before. Still, I do have to ask.

I was wondering when you would get around to it!

How much do you know about her disappearance? I assume there’s a great deal of information that you have no intention to provide, but are there any details you’re willing to share with us?

Nobody who has asked that question has ever believed my answer.

Still.

Very well. The truth is that, despite the resources I had available at the time, I do not know where she went.

Did she tell you she was leaving?

Of course she did. She even asked my permission.

How did that make you feel?

I knew it was going to happen eventually. I’ve said it enough times that you’re probably sick of hearing it, but she never hesitated to do what was necessary. Neither of us wanted it, of course, but it would be rather selfish of us to prioritize our own happiness over the needs of the galaxy, wouldn’t it?

I don’t understand. How did her flight from justice benefit the galaxy?

I’m afraid I can’t share everything with you, Jordan; my promise to her just barely outweighs my appreciation for academic journalism. [Laughs]

Is there anything you can share?

Are you familiar with the human concept of the…oh, what’s it called…the so-called monster who appears at night?

The bogeyman.

Yes! Thank you. She told me that the galaxy needed a bogeyman. The destruction wrought by the Reapers was astounding, but it was also the first threat that managed to fully unite all powers in the galaxy to stop it. It was that fear, knowing that your next day could be your last and that the only way to protect yourself was to stand with those by your side, that built the Crucible.

So…Shepard wanted to inspire that same fear?

In a sense.

Respectfully, how could she have done that? Despite her infamy, she was only one woman.

If a threat is effective enough, then the ability to follow through on said threat is unnecessary.

Like threatening to flay someone alive with your mind?

Goddess, is anyone ever going to let me forget about that?

But in all seriousness, what threat did she believe she posed? I doubt that the majority of the galactic population were afraid of Shepard randomly showing up at their door ready to kill.

It’s not about the majority. Fear, much like physical force, is at its most effective when targeting vital structural points.

You mean governments.

Yes.

So her plan was to use her recent history of political assassinations as a way to inspire fear amongst active political figures?

Yes.

To what end?

To remind them that sowing the seeds of cooperation is not enough. The garden must be tended to if it is to last.

She would kill them if they failed to keep the peace, then?

Who can say? It was the threat that mattered. And it worked, didn’t it?

…There was a lasting period of cooperation for some time after her disappearance, yes.

Necessity is multifaceted, Jordan.

But she was human. They knew the threat would only last for another century, or for another century and a half at most. Even with the scientific progress made in the last 500 years, a vast majority of humans are still limited by a 200 year lifespan. Asari could more than wait her out, an–

You see it now, don’t you?

You…did you…

Yes.

You revealed the Athame Beacon to the other races. Provided them with the knowledge that led to the asari being removed from the Council.

Yes.

So the asari Councilor couldn’t wait her out.

My reasons were my own. Make what you will of them.

That’s…unbelievable. You were responsible for the most important moment in the history of the Council?

I believe I’ve said yes enough by now, Jordan.

Of course. I apologize. This is just a galaxy-shaking revelation. I hope you’ll excuse me if it’s a bit hard to process.

Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. [Laughs]

How do you feel about the Council now? Do you believe that the impact you and Shepard had on its previous makeup resulted in lasting positive change?

I’d like to think so. You can’t change organic nature, and we didn’t expect to enlighten the entire galaxy at once by shifting around some political positions, but I do think the Council being restructured–and intimidated–forced some measure of re-evaluation. The old ways had demonstrably failed, after all.

While it’s true that the Council races have remained relatively peaceful–with a caveat I’d like to discuss with you in a few moments–the same can’t be said for a certain other species.

You mean the krogan.

Yes. In the aftermath of the Reaper War, the revelation that the supposed genophage cure had not been viable triggered a massive uprising against Urdnot Wreav. He’d claimed to be the sole party responsible for curing the genophage, which backfired spectacularly when it led to him taking the brunt of the blame when it failed. Did you expect that outcome?

Wreav was a bloodthirsty, revenge-obsessed madman. His plans for the krogan would have led to a second krogan uprising; one that I believe could have been even bloodier than the first. No matter what happened, he could not be the one to determine their future. So yes, we put plans in motion to ensure such an outcome couldn’t come to pass.

Did you expect what happened next?

…No. We did not.

But if you had such a detailed plan for how to proceed, why didn’t you prepare for all possible outcomes?

Because we were…we were…sentimental. Naive.

What do you mean?

We believed the krogan were better than that. We had faith in them. [Deep breath] It was a mistake we never made again.

So you don’t regret sabotaging the cure, but you do regret the nuclear war and mass extinction that came about as a direct reaction to that sabotage?

That’s correct.

How can you possibly do that? I can’t imagine any way to resolve that level of cognitive dissonance.

Of course you can’t imagine it! You weren’t there! You didn’t see her staring at the screens, reading the names of every casualty! She felt every last one of those deaths, and she knew she was responsible! You can’t imagine the pain she had to endure!

And how does her pain compare to that of the krogan?

Th-that’s…you–you’re oversimplifying.

How so?

Civil war wasn’t necessary. They could have united under a new leader, stabilized Tuchanka in the aftermath of the Reaper War, and used the gratitude they’d earned for their heroics on Palaven and Earth to join the rest of the galactic community. Once that was done, we could have returned the viable cure and ensured a peaceful future.

You had a viable version of the cure?

Had. I have no idea if it still exists; the Broker’s archives had the data somewhere, but, well…I can imagine they’ve changed the locks at some point in the last 500 years. It doesn’t matter now.

So the sabotage wasn’t Shepard’s fault, but the reaction was the krogan’s fault? Even though they didn’t know the truth about the situation?

“Fault” is relative. And I am in no way attempting to downplay the krogans’ pain or the unspeakable tragedy of their extinction. If I had to put the “blame” on anyone, it would be Linron; she was the reason we had to sabotage the cure, after all. But regardless of the situation, the fact remains that Shepard never had a choice. It’s not her “fault” for putting one foot in front of the other. That’s how the galaxy works. Goddess, I wish that were not the case, but it is. Shepard acted, and the krogan responded. That’s it.

(At this point Dr. T’Soni appears to have become visibly agitated. One of the guards motions for me to move on to another question. While I hope to return to this train of thought at a later date, it’s clearly a sore spot that isn’t worth poking at right now.)

I think I understand. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to jump ahead a few centuries. To our current one, specifically.

“No time like the present.” That’s the human saying, correct?

Indeed it is. And given recent events, I can imagine my questions will be a bit more predictable.

Apology accepted. [Laughs]

With that in mind…let’s talk about the Council.

Chapter Text

Greetings, Shadow Broker! As requested, I have prepared a selection of archival footage matching your search criteria. This includes surveillance footage, public and private record, news and military broadcasts, operative testimony, interviews, secret recordings, and many other techniques used to collect audiovisual data. If you would like a full list of sources, I would be happy to provide you with one. Otherwise, I will return to my previous task regarding collection of data related to Dr. Liara T’Soni. Do you need any further assistance?

The fact that you have not responded to my query for 500 seconds has led me to the conclusion that you do not require any further assistance. I will return to my collection. One moment. I am receiving a message from you.

Yes, Shadow Broker, she was the one who named me Glyph! The Broker prior to Dr. T’Soni referred to me as “Drone” 87.6% of the time. I am pleased that you have kept the name.

Your records are available on the main terminal bank. Have a pleasant day.

PUBLIC NEWS BROADCAST, 2265, LAWSON-NOUGHT ACADEMY. GRAND OPENING OF ACADEMY AND FOUNDATION ANNOUNCEMENT. SUBJECTS: MIRANDA LAWSON-NOUGHT AND JACQUELINE LAWSON-NOUGHT.

[Footage timestamped “NewsNet.” Embedded agent operating camera. Image displays a female turian reporter standing within a temporary space habitat, one meant for use in public address and demonstration of other space feats, in front of a large crowd. A stage is set at the front of the room.]

Reporter: I’m here at Viewing Station Epsilon, where we’re preparing for a speech from the Lawson-Noughts to mark the opening of their new station. As a teacher at Grissom Academy before its destruction during the Reaper War, this academy has been a well known passion project of Jacqueline Lawson-Nought’s for the better part of four decades. Now, at 104, she and her wife are here to share that dream with all of us.

[Shuffling to change angle, crowd begins murmuring.]

Reporter: Miranda Lawson-Nought, her wife of 75 years, is the woman who made this possible. Much like Jacqueline, we know very little about Miranda’s history before the end of the Reaper War. The pioneer in the field of cybernetics seemingly appeared out of nowhere, bringing with her multiple technological breakthroughs that greatly assisted in the rebuilding effort. Lawson Cybernetics was contracted by the Systems Alliance to develop a new line of prosthetics that were somehow cheaper and more effective than anything the galaxy had seen up to that point. We still have–

[Reporter is cut off by applause as the Lawson-Noughts take the stage.]

Reporter: It appears that the Lawson-Noughts are prepared to make their statement.

[Camera changes focus, moving away from the reporter and zooming in to get a better view of the stage. Jacqueline is up first; she has aged significantly since her time on the Normandy SR-2, now sporting gray hair and wrinkled skin. Her arm tattoos are still visible below the short sleeves of her suit jacket, as are the tattoos on both sides of her head and a small tattoo of a martlet beneath her left eye. Her body is entirely cybernetic from the waist down, having been replaced after being seriously wounded during the Reaper War.]

Jaqueline Lawson-Nought [hereby abbreviated as J.L-N. for your convenience]: Thank you all for being here today. I’m pretty bad at speeches and stuff, so I’m gonna keep this short and let Miri handle most of the talking. Anyway…I mean, we all know why we’re here.

[J.L-N. steps aside and gestures at the station behind her. The crowd applauds as the station’s lights blink on in unison, one final step to signify it being fully operational. After a few moments of continued applause, she returns to the podium.]

J.L-N.: I, uh…didn’t have the best life growing up. In fact, I had a pretty sh–awful life for a long time. I figured that’s how it was always gonna be, so I gave up on hoping for the future and ended up doing some bad…stuff. But when I met Miri, and when I started teaching…I dunno, man, it made me rethink, y’know, everything. I felt like I could hope again. Then the war happened.

[J.L-N. pauses to take a deep breath.]

J.L-N.: I lost most of my students. Those kids were the only family I had. Like my own flesh and blood. Losing my legs didn’t hurt nearly as much as that. I mean, they were just kids, y’know? If it hadn’t been for Miri, I probably would have just…anyway. Anyway, yeah. Cuz of her, I didn’t give up. And I made a promise to those kids; a promise I’m finally making good on today.

[J.L-N. looks back at her wife.]

J.L-N.: Babe, I love you so [BLEEP] much. Thank you for helping me keep my promise, and for making me believe again. This isn’t just my dream. It’s our dream.

[J.L-N. returns her gaze to the crowd before closing her eyes. Her wife looks slightly embarrassed by the speaker’s profanity, but doesn’t interfere.]

J.L-N.: Reilly, Prangley, Rodriguez…all you guys. Wherever you are, I hope you like our new setup. And Kahlee, thanks for the guide. The station looks extra cool because of her. And. Yeah. Um. That’s uh, that’s it. I’m gonna give the mic to Miri before I start getting all teary-eyed and [BLEEP]. I mean, stuff. Babe, can you take this?

[Miranda Lawson-Nought nods and stands, taking the microphone from J.L-N. and kissing her before replacing her in front of the crowd. Despite her advanced age, Miranda looks significantly younger than her partner; her 116 years have left her with only a few streaks of gray and the occasional stray wrinkle. Age identification technology applied to this footage listed her as 70.]

Miranda Lawson-Nought [hereby abbreviated as M.L-N. for your convenience]: It is my pleasure to announce that we are here to introduce more than the station alone.

[Crowd murmurs. Confusion.]

M.L-N.: An academy is nothing without students. And those in need of education come from many walks of life. In order to ensure that any student, regardless of their lot in life, is able to obtain the education they need, we are proud to announce the creation of the Lawson-Nought Foundation. A non-profit organization devoted to providing scholarships and financial aid to those unable to afford schooling. These scholarships are not limited to universities: they will be available to anyone, of any age, in any grade.

[Crowd begins to applaud before M.L-N. raises her hand to quiet them.]

M.L-N.: This assistance will be provided unconditionally, with no loans to replay or performance requirements. We are here to help. No strings attached. While we cannot fund every single student out there, we will do everything in our power to help as many as we can.

[Crowd cheering.]

M.L-N.: I have made more money than I know what to do with. More than my wife and I could ever spend. I will not allow it to go to waste. When I founded Lawson Cybernetics, I did so to help heal the galaxy. That was my dream, and today Jack's dream and my own have become one. We will offer both a brighter future and a path to reach it. The time has come for humanity to go beyond our self-imposed limits. To do so, we must ascend as one.

M.L-N.: Nearly 400 years ago, a philosopher named Karl Marx championed the principle commonly referred to with the term “from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” He dreamed of a world where all could attain life's essentials through cooperation and the creation of a post-scarcity society. I am not so arrogant as to think we are creating that society with a single foundation. But in doing so, I hope that we might encourage others blessed with good fortune to assist as we will assist.

[Confused murmuring and applause.]

M.L-N.: A new galaxy is coming. It will not arrive within our lifetimes, but it will arrive all the same. When the time comes, we must be ready to find our place within it. As a younger woman, I believed that our place was above the rest. But Jack showed me the error of my ways, and it is an error I will do everything in my power to ensure is not repeated by humanity at large. We must be better. Thank you.

[M.L-N. returns to her seat. Crowd applauds loudly as the camera moves back to the reporter.]

Reporter: Incredible. In addition to creating their new academy, the Lawson-Noughts are creating a new nonprofit organization alongside it. Leave it to one of humanity’s greatest minds to find new ways to surprise us even now! The crowd behind me seems somewhat confused by the last part of Mrs. Lawson-Nought’s speech, but the excitement is still palpable.

[Distant sound of announcer noting the end of the assembly.]

Reporter: Only time will tell if the two women intend to accomplish the even greater deeds Miranda Lawson-Nought spoke of. But no matter what may happen in the future, our focus is on the here and now. And right here, right now…we’re witnessing history.

RECORDING CLOSED.

RECORDING OPENED.

PUBLIC NEWS BROADCAST, 2280, CITADEL. INAUGURATION OF HUMAN COUNCILOR MIRANDA LAWSON-NOUGHT. SUBJECT: MIRANDA LAWSON-NOUGHT.

Councilor Detanas: In light of your contributions to humanity and efforts to integrate your species with the galactic community at large, the Council is honored to invite you to join us.

Miranda Lawson-Nought: The honor is mine, Councilor. I look forward to-

RECORDING CLOSED.

RECORDING OPENED.

AUTOMATED VIDEO MESSAGE, 2370. INITIAL SOURCE: MIRANDA LAWSON-NOUGHT. ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION SENT TO RECIPIENTS OF THE LAWSON-NOUGHT FOUNDATION RODRIGUEZ SCHOLARSHIP.

If you are seeing this, then I am dead. And if I'm speaking to you from beyond the grave, then you had better believe that what I have to say is important. The Rodriguez scholarship is more than funding: it is an invitation. If you are seeing this, then you have been chosen for a very specific purpose. Luckily for you, that purpose is relatively straightforward. On paper, at least.

Simply put: you are going to save the galaxy.

RECORDING CLOSED.

INCOMING TRANSMISSION. SOURCE: AGENT 17. CONNECT?

CONNECTING NOW.

Chapter Text

Four months ago, the Council acknowledged that they had worked directly with you to resolve a matter of galactic importance. They haven’t released any further details, but there’s one hell of a rumor mill surrounding the decision and its consequences both for you and for the galaxy as a whole. Can you share anything about it with us?

Very little, I’m afraid, but I’ll tell you what I can. Firstly, I can confirm that our cooperation was a temporary alliance that has since ended. I have not been in contact with the council for months, and we have no plans to collaborate in the future. My assistance was solely due to my knowledge regarding the issue at hand.

Forgive my cynicism, but I can’t imagine that you did so without being offered some kind of deal. Are you allowed to tell us what that deal was, if any?

There was an offer extended to me, yes. I cannot share a majority of the details, but I’m sure you can imagine what kind of reward would be offered for cooperating with the authorities.

A reduced sentence?

Not necessarily reduced. An altered sentence. Many criminals are able to walk free after collaboration, while others have their sentences commuted or altered. As you can see, I am not walking free. Barring any sudden changes in heart, I will still be spending my remaining centuries in confinement. Perhaps if the Council were able to make the decision themselves, it would be different…but this is Thessia. Our lives are no longer dictated by the Council.

So…your sentence has been set in stone by the Matriarchs.

To the best of their ability. I have no doubt that they would have taken even more extreme measures if not for the potential political fallout.

You mean…

Execution, yes.

Capital punishment has been outlawed in the Asari Republics for millenia. Do you really believe that the Matriarchs considered doing such a thing?

More than considered. There were even plans to have me killed before the war was over. It was only through my father’s intervention that the order never went through.

But you hadn’t been convicted of a crime. You’re saying that they specifically planned an extrajudicial killing?

That’s correct. Isn’t it interesting how they somehow still managed to react with shock and horror when Shepard’s extrajudicial killings were revealed?

You sound bitter.

I am bitter. Wouldn’t you be?

[Laughs] Oh, absolutely. I’m just surprised you’ve never mentioned that to anyone before. Is that another piece of information you kept under wraps for Shepard’s sake?

To some degree, yes. But my primary goal was to protect my grandfather and my daughters from the political fallout. Especially given my grandfather’s involvement in the conspiracy.

Your grandfather conspired to murder you?

No, no, of course not. Quite the opposite. As one of the more influential matriarchs on Thessia, she went to great lengths to dissuade the others from ordering the assassination.

Sounds like you owed her your life, then.

Nothing so dramatic. A simple hitwoman wouldn’t have been a danger to me at that age. Goddess knows how many tried and failed already. But it would have been an irritating distraction at a time when I could not afford to be distracted. 

That’s cold.

[Laughs] Shepard said something along similar lines when I told her. It’s good to see human beings haven’t changed too much in the last few centuries.

We’ve had our ups and downs. Now, I did want to return to that Council discussion…

Of course, of course. Forgive me. My mind wanders. As I said, there isn’t much I can share. The Council was dealing with an issue that had been left over from the war, and I’m the only member of the team tasked with resolving said issue who is still alive today. It was…interesting, looking back on those days in a professional setting.

Good interesting or bad interesting?

There’s no such thing as “good” or “bad” interesting. Actual investigation requires objectivity, and deciding for yourself whether or not something is “good” or “bad” introduces a bias. My pre-war work on the Protheans could serve as an example of how “good interesting” can tamper with the facts.

…Okay then. Sorry. Then I guess I would say…how did it make you feel? Did you enjoy working for the Council again after so many decades spent, ah, retired?

Humans and their euphemisms! Yes, I suppose I enjoyed it; though in fairness, that had less to do with the Council and more to do with the engagement of being able to work again.

Are you still working, or are you done?

Done for now.

You’re planning to work again?

I do not know. But if I’m given a chance to work, I will work. Watching vids alone gets boring after about three centuries.

And you’ve been in for five.

An old friend of mine once said that “time gets funny in a cell,” and she was all too right. Whatever my “altered” sentence is going to be, I think I’ll enjoy it more than this.

The rumor is that you could be moving to house arrest. Do you think that’s a possibility?

I have no expectations. As long as it’s something else, I’ll be better for it.

You really don’t care where you go?

The place I most want to go no longer exists, so I can never make a real first choice. Although I would like to go somewhere that lets me see my daughters more. Benezia still has to introduce me to my second granddaughter.

So you’d prefer to stay on Thessia, then.

Yes, I suppose that’s true. It’s been far too long since I saw the sea, and the waters of Thessia will always be my favorite. The waves bring back fond memories.

What if the Council had you transferred to the Citadel? Would you still take the position?

…Yes, but…well.

Well?

I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to see the Citadel as it is today. It will always be a replacement. My memories will be of the wreckage and rubble left behind on the original Citadel after the Crucible fired. The death and decay we had to wade through to find Jane.

That actually raises an interesting question, if you don’t mind me asking. If it’s too painful…

[Laughs] I’m a grown woman, Jordan. You don’t have to be so afraid of breaking me. Ask away.

There’s been plenty of discussion about how exactly Shepard survived the Crucible firing. Medical reports show that she received numerous seemingly fatal wounds both before and after traveling to the Citadel, but it only took two years for her to get back on her feet. How is that possible?

Well, most of it is technical, and I’m not the right kind of doctor to ask about that sort of thing. But I will say that she was lucky enough to have some of the best medical and technological specialists in the galaxy ready to help. For all the complexity of the Lazarus Project’s framework, repairing it was strangely straightforward. A bit like the Crucible itself, really.

The specialists were already on Earth? Were they participating in the battle for London?

Yes.

They wouldn’t have happened to be part of the Normandy SR-2 crew, would they?

Well, I can’t say too much about that. It would be rather hard for you to get this interview printed if it contained classified information, don’t you think?

[Laughs] Fair enough. I’ve always found it interesting that some of the SR-2 specialists came forward, but not all of them. Garrus Vakarian, Admiral Tali’Zorah vas Rannoch, Systems Alliance Captain James Vega, Javik the Prothean, Doctor Karin Chakwas, and, of course, you, took a lot of heat for your involvement. Do you think that discouraged other members of the crew from being open about their involvement?

There wasn’t a blanket reason for their choices. Some wanted to avoid the “heat” you described, but others simply didn’t care for the spotlight. I was never military, so I can’t quite put myself in their shoes, but some members of the crew just wished to remain normal members of the alliance military. And some…well, not everyone agreed with Shepard’s choices. Some couldn’t handle witnessing the consequences of those choices. Jeff Moreau, for instance.

I understand he and Shepard were old friends. It must have been quite a shock to see him as a key witness in her trial. Do you feel like he betrayed Shepard by testifying against her?

Jeff did what he thought was right and I respect that. Shepard didn’t bear him any ill will, and I don’t either. She took the life of someone dear to him; something like that makes it difficult to…maintain a friendship, regardless of how time-honored that friendship might be. Again, a natural response to something that was both tragic and necessary.

That’s awfully forgiving of you. Would your feelings be any different if his testimony had actually put Shepard in prison? If she hadn’t escaped, I mean.

I would be angrier, of course. That’s only natural. But it would fade. His reasons would still be understandable.

So does that mean you preferred her disappearing over her being in custody?

We already discussed this. I knew that it was the right thing. Yes, it hurts that I don’t know where she ended up or what ended up happening to her. That I don’t know how she died. It hurts a great deal. But she never would have tolerated dying in a cell. I wanted what was best for her, not what gave me the most peace of mind. She wasn’t the only one who made sacrifices.

You really have no idea?

If I knew, I would tell you. There’s no point in keeping that kind of secret now that she’s dead and gone. I wish it wasn’t the truth, but it is. I just don’t know.

So your recent work with the Council had nothing to do with those loose ends Shepard left behind?

I’m more than her hanger-on, Jordan.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply–

No, no, it’s okay. I apologize for snapping at you. Sometimes I trip on old memories.

Of course. Thank you for understanding. I don’t suppose you’d be able to tell us what field of study you advised them on? Your areas of expertise are pretty widespread.

I’m afraid that’s classified. Whether or not the Council provides more detail is up to them, not me.

Do you think that’s something they’re likely to do, or should we expect those records to be sealed forever?

It would be easier to predict if the Council was monolithic in its decision making, but we both know that’s not the case. Some Councilors favor transparency, while others would prefer to keep these events out of the public eye for one reason or another.

Can you think of any hypothetical reasons why a Councilor would feel that way?

Well, I suppose there’s [RECORD DELETED]

[RECORD DELETED]

[RECORD DELETED]

[RECORD DELETED]

[RECORD DELETED]

I see. That’s certainly sound reasoning, though I can imagine the rest of the galaxy might not see it that way.

Handling their constituents is the Council’s job, not mine. They did what they did, I did what I did, and the rest is–or rather, will be–history.

No doubt about that. Now, before we wrap up for today, I did have one more question…although I worry it might seem a bit self-serving.

I don’t mind. Go right ahead.

I’m aware that our previous discussion played a role in determining some newly emerged contemporary opinions about you and your place in history. With the potential of an…altered sentence in your future, are you concerned that admitting to the actions we’ve discussed today might hurt your chances to achieve that lenience upon being made public?

It might seem strange, but no. If I must believe that it will cause a shift in perception, I believe that it will be for the best. These things can’t be left in the dark forever. Enough time has passed, and I believe that the galaxy is ready to know the truth. The people’s response to said truth is not mine to predict, but I’d like to hope that they understand it even if they don’t agree with it.

So you think the galactic population will be grateful for your honesty?

Yes. I’ve been wrong before, of course, but my conviction is firm. Now is the time.

Then I look forward to seeing whether or not your conviction is correct.

As do I.

Liara, thank you once more for your time. I hope we can speak again soon.

Likewise, Jordan. May the goddess be with you.

And you as well.

Chapter Text

17 was waiting for her when she left the building. She hadn’t arranged to meet with them, but she had expected them regardless. Just as before, she had her report ready to go. However, 17 didn’t immediately demand it. Instead, they leaned forward and looked at her, seemingly scrutinizing…something about the human. At least Jordan assumed they were looking at her; for all she knew, the agent’s eyes could be closed under the helmet. It’s not like she’d be able to tell.

“How is she?” 17 asked, their voice strangely quiet.

“She, um…she’s…good, I think? She doesn’t seem unhappy, if that’s what you mean. From what I can tell, whatever happened with the Council energized her.”

“Excellent,” 17 nodded. “The Broker will be pleased. Now give me the file.”

“Of course.”

She repeated the transfer and upload, waiting for the Broker’s reply. However, this time it took far longer. She grew more and more nervous before the garbled voice finally made its reply.

“The questions regarding the elcor Councilor have been removed. The rest may be published as-is.”

“Hey, wait!” Jordan protested. “You said you weren’t going to censor it!”

“Your conversation’s focus on Liara T’Soni has been preserved unaltered. The agreement did not include blanket permission to report on whoever you felt like discussing.”

“That’s–”

“Do not try my patience, Mrs. Bakari. If you refuse to accept this change, then this interview will remain unpublished. Make your choice, but do so quickly. I am a busy individual, as is my agent.”

Jordan hung her head and sighed. She should have expected this; in fact, a part of her had expected it. At least they hadn’t taken out the most important parts. “I understand. Thank you for approving the rest of it.”

The Broker ceased communication without responding. 17 nodded at her and transferred the file back, having replaced one section with a notification about deleted records. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the worst case scenario either. A few edits should clear it right up. Once those were done, she could send it on over to the Review. Then she could go home, relax, and maybe cash in on some vacation time.

“Be well.”

They were gone again. Jordan let out a mostly relieved sigh and returned to her skycar, transferring the newly edited interview to her publisher before heading home. She switched over to autopilot and closed her eyes, suddenly weary.

She was halfway home when the call came.

“Incoming message from Editor-in-Chief Jamison,” the skycar’s VI announced. “Would you like me to connect you?”

“Go ahead.”

A small hologram of her boss flickered to life on her dash, giving her a quick wave and a smile. However, something about that smile was…different. There was something behind it. Something unhappy.

“Thanks for sending that over, Jordan. I’m sure our readers will love it.”

“No prob, chief. Just glad I got a chance to send in some more.”

Jamison nodded. “It was very generous of you to send it to us; I figured your new team would snap it up before we got a chance to so much as look at it.”

Wait, what? New team?

“Of course I would send it to you. That’s why I did it in the first place!”

“I know, I know, but still. The higher-ups and I both appreciate it. We really are going to miss having you with us. You’re a great reporter and we’re lucky to have worked with you for as long as we did.”

“What are you–”

The began to flicker and stutter, Jamison’s voice growing distorted. She moved to adjust the feed and restore the strangely altered signal, but froze in place when the hologram was replaced with a single line of text.

Play along.

“Jordan? You there?”

The text disappeared and the hologram restabilized. Jordan’s breath had begun to speed up and she tried to calm it down, wiping sweat from her brow. What was happening?

“Y-yeah, sorry. Spotty reception,” she stammered, doing her best to recover. “I, uh…yeah. I’m going to miss you guys, too. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but…”

“Hey, it’s fine. GNN is one hell of a publication, and I’m sure you’ll shine there. Rest assured that me and the guys will be reading whatever you put out!”

Jordan smiled sadly. “Thanks, chief. Really. And hey, if you’re ever looking for a little freelance input…”

Jamison laughed. “Don’t worry. I know just who to call. Take it easy, Jordan. Good luck.”

“Thank you, sir. You too.”

The call ended. Jordan pulled over to the side of the road and came to a sudden stop, struggling to breathe as her brain attempted to process what had just happened.

Someone had impersonated her. Resigned from her job. Gotten her a new one. One at Galactic News Network, of all things. All without Jordan seeing a single message. Why? And who?

No, that was stupid. She didn’t know why, sure, but…she knew who.

“Goddess,” she whispered to herself. “What the fuck am I doing?”

Another message appeared on her screen, this time from an official source. It was mail from GNN welcoming her to the team; most of it was standard fare, but a few details near the end drew her attention. And not in a good way.

While we are sorry to hear that the Review refused to allow you to continue your investigation of Liara T’Soni, we are also more than happy to encourage further research and will provide whatever resources you need to find out the truth of the present rather than being restricted to the past!

The galaxy is changing, and we’re counting on you to help us prepare! We can’t wait to see what you uncover next. As we discussed, you’ll be given free rein to conduct your investigation as you see fit; we’ll be here to provide you with support and any leads we can scrounge up. The Review might have limited you, but GNN will do everything in its power to uncover the truth. Welcome to the team!

-Tanus Detana, Editor-in-Chief

No, no, no. This was all wrong. It was a big step up for her career and prestige, but why did this false narrative involve trashing the Review? They had been nothing but kind to her, and many of the team members were her friends. If this got back to them…she didn’t want to think about it.

Either way, this whole thing was fucked! She knew that getting involved with the Shadow Broker would come with a price, but this was too much! Wasn’t giving them the data and letting them censor it enough? Did they want to ensure her status as some kind of official Liara T’Soni correspondent? It didn’t make any sense!

And what was she supposed to tell Laneya? “Hey, honey, just thought I should let you know that I quit my job and got a new one with GNN and didn’t tell you about any of it!” Yeah, that would go great. Definitely no problems there.

She should have told her from the start that her confidential source was the Shadow Broker’s agent. Would it be good to tell her now, just get it over with and deal with how mad she’d be about this whole situation and how stupid Jordan had been? That would make sense. But…17 had warned her not to involve anyone else in their deal. They probably just meant other journalists, but if they were willing to do something like this…

Get a grip, Jordan!

Stupid, stupid, stupid! All this because she’d gotten too caught up in chasing a story! No, she had to tell Laneya. Maybe if she kept it vague, avoided mentioning the Broker’s name directly…maybe that would be enough. But what if it kept going? GNN wanted her on the T’Soni story, and there was only one person who could reliably secure interviews with a maximum security prisoner. There had to be some other angle she could pursue, something that would keep her away from the Broker. Maybe a focus on other people involved in the story? The Council, maybe; they had regular press briefings that wouldn’t be difficult to attend. And there were the T’Soni daughters, of course, but they weren’t the type to give interviews. If she wanted that angle, she knew it would take the Broker to get it.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? To put Jordan in a situation where she had no choice but to keep relying on that damned crimelord? It should have been obvious from the start, but she’d walked right into it. And now there was no way out. 

No way out but through.