3192 CE
The light on Thessia was different now. After a millennium of healing, the planet's sky had regained its pristine, almost crystalline blue, untainted by the orbital dust and atmospheric scarring of the Reaper War. From her study, Dr. Liara T'Soni watched the twin suns cast long, gentle shadows across her meticulously curated garden. So much had changed. Worlds had been reborn, empires had risen from the ashes, and entire species had found new destinies among the stars.
And yet, as she caught her reflection in the viewport, she thought she probably hadn't changed that much at all.
Her face, though lined with the profound age of a matriarch well past her thousandth year, still held the same contemplative cast. Her eyes, which had witnessed the near-extinction and triumphant rebirth of galactic civilization, still sought a ghost in the twilight. She was still, and would always be, searching for Jane. Her lover. Her partner. A part of her very soul, cleaved away in a flash of red light and impossible choices.
The memory was as sharp as broken glass, a wound that time had failed to scab over. She was running, Garrus beside her, the roar of the reaper and Liara could only watch as the woman she loved vanished into the battle. The memory had haunted her for ten centuries.
A long, slow sigh escaped her lips. A familiar weariness settled deep in her bones, a feeling far older than the simple aches of her age. It was the weariness of being the last. Anderson was gone. Ash and Joker had lived long, distinguished lives, their funerals attended by Alliance admirals and colonists alike. Wrex had passed into the legends of Tuchanka, a krogan chieftain who had led his people not just to a cure, but to wisdom. Miranda, had used her considerable resources to fund humanitarian efforts that shaped the recovery for generations before she too, found her end. Garrus and Tali… ah, that one still stung.
Their love had been a bright, beautiful star in the dark aftermath of the war. But the chaos of rebuilding a shattered galaxy had pulled them in different directions. He, burdened with the title of Primarch, had to rebuild Palaven from bedrock. She, a revered figurehead, had to shepherd the quarians in their delicate, triumphant return to Rannoch. The crushing weight of their duties and the sheer asymmetry of their lifespans created a chasm their love could not, in the end, cross. They had parted as the dearest of friends, their bond unbroken but their paths forever diverged. Liara had officiated both of their funerals, centuries apart, her heart aching for the what-ifs.
She was the last living member of the Normandy's crew. A living monument to a dead ship and its legendary commander. She could, of course, extend her life further. Asari longevity treatments, integrated with tech recovered and improved over the long peace, could push her lifespan by another few hundred years. But she didn't want it.
There was a flicker of hope in her, a quiet, scholarly hypothesis that she nurtured in the deepest part of her heart. The hope that Jane was waiting for her on the other side. That there was another side. And if there was, oh, the stories she had to tell her.
Her thoughts turned, as they so often did, to Lira.
Her hand drifted to a holo-frame on her desk. The image showed a smiling asari with Shepard's unmistakable, fiery green eyes. Lira Shepard. Their daughter. A legacy forged in fire and a final, desperate thought. Jane never knew, not consciously, but Liara had felt it in their last mind-meld. In that final, loving press of their consciousness, among the chaos and fear, Jane had given her a gift—the seed of a new life, a final, impossible act of creation before an act of total destruction.
Jane would have loved her so fiercely. Lira had her mother's courage, but Liara's academic curiosity. She had become one of the galaxy's foremost xeno-historians, her work finally unraveling the deepest mysteries, something that would have made both of her parents immeasurably proud. Liara couldn't wait to tell Jane all about her, to describe her first steps, her first laugh, the day she mind-melded for the first time and saw fleeting, powerful images of a human woman in N7 armor.
She wanted to tell Jane how the galaxy she saved had healed. It had been a brutal, painful process. The relays were down for decades, stranding systems and forcing a new, slower age of interstellar cooperation. Entire planets had been lost, their biospheres scoured beyond recovery. The batarians, their home planet and systems shattered and their leadership annihilated, had faded into extinction, a tragic footnote in a galactic cataclysm.
Earth had suffered immensely. The Citadel, a colossal wreck, had fallen from orbit and crashed into the ruins of London. The impact had scarred the planet for a century. But from those ruins, a new symbol had risen. With the Citadel gone, London had slowly but surely become the unofficial galactic hub, a testament to resilience where all species met on the neutral ground of shared sacrifice.
She'd tell her about the krogan, now a respected voice on the new Council, their ferocity tempered into a fierce protectiveness over the galactic peace. And the quarians, masters of Rannoch once more, no longer trapped into suits and their fleet a marvel of engineering that rivaled the asari and turian navies. It had all been worth it. Her sacrifice had meant something. It had meant everything.
Liara just wanted to see her face again. To hear her laugh.
The tiredness was heavier now. She placed a gentle hand over the holo-frame of her daughter. Her comm chimed with a reminder for a lecture she was due to give at the University of Thessia. She glanced at the datapad. The lecture was for November 8th.
"Time for bed," she whispered to the empty room. She made her way to her chambers, the simple act of walking feeling like a great journey. She didn't fight the sleep that claimed her. She welcomed it, like an old friend, a final promise of rest.
Dr. Liara T'Soni, hero of the Reaper War, former Shadow Broker, and mother of Lira Shepard, died peacefully in her sleep.
-DARKNESS-
Liara woke up.
She wasn't in her bed. She was standing in a sun-dappled field of ilossa blossoms on Thessia, their pale blue petals swaying in a breeze that carried the scent of home. She looked down at her hands. They were the hands of a young asari, nimble and strong. The aches were gone. The weariness of a thousand years had evaporated like morning mist. She felt incredible, as if she was in her prime, every cell humming with vitality.
Then she heard it. A sound she hadn't heard in a millennium, but which was etched into her very being. The deep, powerful thrum of a Tantalus drive core.
She looked up. There, descending with impossible grace against the Thessian sky, was the Normandy SR-1. It wasn't a memory. It was real, solid, its hull plates catching the light. The ship landed silently in the field before her, the grass barely stirring. The main ramp lowered with a familiar, soft hiss.
A figure emerged, silhouetted against the light from within the ship. A human woman in N7 armor, her red hair a fiery beacon.
Time seemed to stop. A thousand years of grief, of longing, of loneliness, all condensed into a single, explosive moment of recognition. "Jane…" the name was a breathless prayer.
She ran. Jane met her halfway, her arms open. Their bodies collided, a tangle of limbs and armor and desperate, clinging hands. Liara's arms went around Jane's neck, and she pulled her down into a kiss that was a fusion of souls, a millennium of unshed tears and unspoken love pouring between them. It was a kiss that healed every wound, that erased every lonely night, that fulfilled every dying wish.
A soft, polite cough finally broke them apart.
Breathing heavily, Liara looked past Jane's shoulder, into the warm light of the ship's cargo bay. And she saw them.
They were all there. Garrus was leaning against the bulkhead, his mandibles quirked in that familiar, knowing smirk. Tali stood beside him, her beautiful, smiling face visible to all. Wrex was there, massive and solid, a grin splitting his rugged face. Ashley and Kaidan stood side-by-side, radiating a quiet peace. Miranda leaned against a crate, a rare, genuine smile on her lips. And all the others—Joker, Anderson, even Mordin—they were all there, a silent, loving crowd, waiting. It wasn't a loud, boisterous reunion. It was something far deeper. A quiet, breathtaking wave of overwhelming love, a circle of family finally, perfectly, complete.
Jane squeezed her hand, her green eyes sparkling with a love that had defied time and death itself. Her voice was the most beautiful sound Liara had ever heard.
"I've been waiting for you, my love," she said softly, her gaze encompassing everyone behind her. "We all have."
She smiled, a gentle, inviting smile that promised an eternity of tomorrows.
"Tell us your story."