Mother: A Mass Effect Story
By Who Is Caligula (2008)
Dedicated to All Parents
Tali was exhausted. She did not know why.
Being on her feet for many hours at a time did not bother her; she was young and much sturdier than she appeared. During periods of rest, she preferred to keep herself as productive as she could manage. This was not part of some deeply-rooted personal fear of idling in silence and solitude, however. It was cultural. She was a quarian, above all else. Respect and hard work often went hand in hand. The gentle coddling and unfounded protection that non-quarians sometimes offered felt utterly silly to her. Even aboard the SSV Normandy, Shepard seemed to be the only person that made any substantial demands of her. That was why she liked Shepard, though. The goals, duties, or opinions of the crew might vary greatly during their travels. The crew was colorful and diverse, but Shepard seemed unconcerned. The importance of their mission superseded all else.
Shepard kept everyone in line, kept everything orderly and fair. Never a qualm about asking the quarian for advice when solving a technologically advanced problem, or asking her to perform tasks that other members of her crew would have preferred to complete independently, to "save the quarian" from tasks deemed "difficult" or "risky".
They meant well enough, Tali had decided. She couldn't fault them for acting on their basic parental instincts. She was, after all, the youngest member of the Normandy's crew and certainly the smallest. Few had seen the extent of her combat capabilities. Only one person had been a witness to her actions on Eletania, and although it had not been her proudest moment, she could tell her skill and bravery had left a lasting impression on Garrus Vakarian.
Garrus, she thought to herself. The stern turian officer could usually be found just outside of the engine room, in the vehicle bay. She powered down her Bluewire and sighed inaudibly, but she had a feeling someone could sense her frustration.
"Going somewhere, Tali?" Adams called to her from the heat control terminal that monitored the Tantalus's massive drive core. The Normandy's chief engineer was typically soft-spoken, but Tali told herself she was merely the wandering child that this self-appointed paternal figure wanted to check up on. She would not allow such a small thing to irritate her.
"I'm just going to grab a few scraps from the vehicle bay. You need any?"
"No, I think-" he paused, turning to face her, because her mechanical talents had earned her at least a modicum of respect from the engineering staff.
"What is it?" she asked politely.
"You're not still trying to fix that little lever, are you? I told you, let the Citadel mechanics take care of it. They're professionals, they know what they're-"
The engineer cut himself off again, this time in an unnecessary effort to appease Tali's sense of personal pride. Tali was not excessively proud of her abilities, however. She only wanted to get the job done, and knew not the cause of her crewmate's protests.
"It's alright, Adams. I can repair it myself, and save Shepard thousands of credits in repair costs".
"Alliance mechanics don't get any money from the commander, Tali", the engineer sighed in resignation, knowing his words would have little effect on Tali's actions. She once overheard him telling Shepard that her skills were close to matching his own, despite his many years of service on board Alliance vessels. Humans, as far as the quarian could tell, did not make a habit of delivering direct compliments to each other. In fact, they seemed strangely conservative in their expression of thoughts and emotions. Perhaps this was why many species perceived humans as a cold and distracted race.
Know when to speak.
Tali shook the memory of her mother's gentle voice from her head, and entered the shadowy world of the Normandy's vehicle bay.
"Garrus?" she spoke cautiously, as the former C-Sec investigator appeared quite busy. He was huddled over a console display, and warm light illuminated the spiky protrusions that streaked toward the back of his head like the claws of a predator.
"One second, Tali", he replied, powerful digits clacking against the console keyboard.
"What is it?" he turned at last, his angular features bearing a strange mixture of frustration and thoughtfulness.
"I was just looking for some scrap metal", she spoke concisely, worried that she had disturbed his work for the sake of a relatively minor problem.
"That makes two of us", he responded, voice every bit as hard and jagged as his skin suggested. "I didn't think the Mako would soak up so much gel for some minor hull damage".
"If I find any, I'll let you know", Tali shrugged, trotting toward the workbench where Ashley spent most of her time. Garrus had shown a marked increase in the level of respect shown toward the young quarian, but Tali's pilgrimage had not been some grand holy war against social inequality. All she wanted was some scrap metal.
If anyone had scraps to spare, it would surely be the Normandy's weapons specialist.
Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams represented, in Tali's mind, the stereotypical human soldier. She was impulsive and quick to anger, but Tali's instincts told her that such swiftness was necessary for a soldier like Ashley. She had been trained to think fast and act fast, two things which humans were typically quite comfortable with.
As Tali scrutinized the workbench and surrounding floor for any useful bits, a sudden shout caused her to flinch and nearly knock her head into the metal countertop.
"Hey!"
Williams was exhausted. It really didn't matter what sort of enhancement packages or treacherous training had been thrown at you. You really never had all the energy you wanted. Of course, she hadn't been sleeping well, either. Chief Williams rarely had a problem finding sleep when she wanted it, but staying asleep was another matter entirely. She told herself she was just jumpy because of all the crap they dealt with regularly on their search for a dangerous rogue spectre, and she could just work it all off at her workstation. She had only left for several minutes to grab a drink with the lieutenant, but a lot can happen in a few minutes.
"What the hell are you doing at my workspace?"
The quarian, face concealed behind her thick visor, stood quickly when she heard Williams call her out. Chief Williams had attempted to voice her concerns regarding alien presence on a human vessel to the commander on several occasions, but she got the feeling Shepard didn't take her concerns very seriously, maybe writing them off as the ravings of some ignorant racist. Ashley wasn't a racist. She was curious about new things, and enjoyed the stimulation of limitless novelty that her travels offered. However, she was also a trained soldier of the Alliance. She knew the value of good sense and caution.
She did not trust the quarian.
"I'm sorry, Ashley. I thought you might have some leftover scraps I could use to make a few minor repairs. That's all".
The quarian, as the Chief knew her, was extremely clever and relentlessly pragmatic. Those were the attributes that she liked the most. The quarian's motives, culture, history, and personality were all part of the same enigma that concealed her face. Then again, it wasn't her fault that she had to wear an environmental suit all the time.
"You could've asked", the Chief spoke in a softer tone once, closing the distance between herself and the suspicious little alien.
"I didn't know where you were", the quarian explained, shame dampening her curiosity. Ashley suddenly remembered her younger sister, the way she mellowed her tone once she'd been caught doing something wrong.
"Forget it. I don't have anything for you, anyway".
"Oh", the quarian responded with much less enthusiasm. "Alright. Thanks, anyway".
Ashley sighed. The quarian had far fewer digits on her hand than a typical human. Her feet looked weird, and she hated the fact that her face was nearly invisible. As the quarian departed the workbench, Gunnery Chief Williams found herself staring at the back of Tali's hooded helmet.
The Normandy was clean as a whistle, but there had to be some pieces of scrap around here somewhere. Williams made a mental note to herself, titled it "Spare Parts", and stuffed it in the icy cool "Things to worry about when I'm not kicking ass" compartment of her brain. Fortunately, this area had shrunken greatly ever since her reassignment to the Normandy, so the more casual notes would not spoil quickly. The overheated "Must cook now" oven was likely the source of her present fatigue.
Ashley yawned and shut down her monitor.
She had done enough cooking for one day.
"Wrex? Are you alright?"
The heavy krogan shifted his immense bulk in response to the sound of his own name. Crimson eyes peered at the waiflike quarian that stood before him, the purple tint of her facemask all glossy and smooth, like the flesh of a muscular fish.
Wrex loved fresh fish.
"What?" he asked, having been disturbed by very few crewmembers for the duration of his stay on the Normandy.
"I asked if you were alright. You seem upset".
"I'm fine. Maybe you should pose the same question to yourself", he mumbled, hoping the deflection would be enough to shoo her away.
"Myself? I'm not upset. Not really, I mean".
"Not really", he repeated aloud. Some species irritated the hell out of him. If this quarian was an accurate representation of the majority of her race, he was glad they were exiled to the fringes where they could mind their own damn business.
"I was just wondering if you had any-"
"Scrap metal? No. Don't have much love for machines and trinkets", he added, certain that an insult to her livelihood would send her running off in a fit of rage.
"Trinkets?" the quarian repeated the word and folded her arms, a disappointing gesture that Wrex interpreted as "I'm not leaving this spot anytime soon". The only other person who folded her arms in front of Wrex habitually was Shepard, but she was another story entirely.
"Yeah", he continued, "Trinkets that people depend on, then fall on their asses when it fails. Happens all the time".
"I know what you mean", came the quarian's surprising response. "My people always suffer when the technology goes bad. But I suppose everything degrades eventually".
"Your people", Wrex leaned forward, hoping to exact verbal vengeance upon the sly little girl, "The quarians, still have a fighting chance. You think you've got it bad just because folks give you the wary eye wherever you go. When I enter a room, people suddenly remember they have somewhere else they need to be".
Urdnot Wrex did not consider himself to be an engaging conversationalist, but very few people were willing to approach a krogan battlemaster unless they were very rich or very brave. More often, it was the former. His tendency to emphasize certain words made him seem argumentative, at best.
"Your people are warriors, Wrex. People have a right to be afraid of you. The quarians made their mistakes centuries ago. If people treat me differently, it is because of ignorance, not fear".
"I know that, Tali", Wrex finally spat the girl's name, but she did not seem to falter at all. It was all too apparent that this cloaked little outcast was not afraid of him in the slightest. Something about that bothered him, but he wasn't sure why exactly.
"Maybe fear is very different for you. What scares you?"
"What scares me?" he repeated her question, having been wholly unprepared for a philosophical discourse with the faceless grease monkey.
"Yes, what do the mighty krogan fear? I suppose my greatest worry is that I would somehow fail my people. That is why I am on my pilgrimage, to ensure that I am capable of contributing something that will benefit our entire species".
"Good for you. Even if you succeed, it doesn't change anything".
"Why not?"
"Because your people are tightly woven. Mine are not. Not anymore, at least".
Wrex cast aside his personal misgivings for the moment, and realized that never before had he encountered someone who used the term "mighty" to describe the krogan. The little quarian must have been quite a storyteller, though he was unexcited by the strong possibility that he would be mentioned in one of her tales once she returned to her crappy migrant fleet.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Wrex. Is that why you're upset all the time?"
"No", he bellowed an immediate denial.
"Why, then?"
"Have you ever seen a krogan smile? It's disgusting. Even when we laugh, we don't smile. We aren't diplomats, we aren't mechanics. We're just warriors. Plain and simple".
"It's really that simple to you?" the quarian prodded him further.
"Yes", he asserted himself once more. "It is".
"Alright", she said, the high pitch of resignation ringing in her voice. Wrex had a sudden urge to snap the neck of a bird, even though he wasn't in the mood for poultry.
"Oh. And one more thing, quarian".
"Yes?" she asked, retracing her footsteps because she was so damn fast. She didn't even flinch when his comparatively massive arm extended toward her, bearing a tiny piece of machinery that Wrex probably would snap into many pieces if he sat on it by accident, as he had done for countless other trinkets too pricey looking to leave behind after a nice skirmish. Damn flimsy pockets.
"This omni-tool, where did you get it?" she asked, carefully turning it in her hands like it was some priceless relic.
"Turian profiteer. His pockets were loaded with all sorts of goodies".
"He just let a giant krogan pickpocket him? You must have robbed him at gunpoint for something like this!"
"Not really", the krogan answered sincerely. "He knew he was dead when I charged at him with a Katana shotgun. I saw it in his eyes. Turians have a real special look they'll give you, if they know they're about to die". The term pocket had actually been a metaphor; Wrex had accompanied Shepard when they blasted their way into the profiteer's little outpost, and the whole building was a pocket full of fun. Plenty of moving targets that dropped goodies when you hit them hard enough. Throw in a few pretty lightshows and a symphony of gunfire; hell, that battle put the Citadel's Flux casino to shame.
"You mean he wanted you to take his things?"
"No. I think he was just scared of the pain that was coming. Incendiary rounds tend to burn through flesh really fast, though. Screams rarely last more than a few seconds, if that's any comfort to you. Once the vital organs start to get crispy-".
"I can't take this, Wrex".
"Why the hell not? The turian corpse won't need it".
"It's not that. I mean, I do appreciate the gesture, but-"
"There isn't anything to appreciate, quarian. The guy's dead. Either you take his little gadget, or it gets lost, or I break it the next time Shepard tries to cram me inside of that damn car. Wouldn't want it to go to waste, would you?"
He knew he had her there. The krogan didn't actually stand to gain anything by giving her the device, but he also believed there was no death without profit. He had a feeling that resource management was where krogans and quarians saw eye to eye.
Or at least, these two did.
"Thank you, Wrex. I won't forget this".
That's what I was afraid of, Wrex thought privately. He was not comfortable with the affection and gratitude that so many wealthier species had the luxury of dabbling in. He was equally repelled by the thought of having to converse with the little quarian again. Giving her the toy might serve only to encourage her to speak to him more often.
Damn turian. He knew should have smashed the little omni-tool the minute he found it in the profiteer's fancy lockbox.
Wrex snorted unintelligibly as the quarian left for the engine room, where she would be out of sight for several hours, with any luck. Finally. He wanted privacy in the likely event he should doze off in the near future. Chronic boredom had exhausted the krogan. Sitting around on the ship without decent food or fighting was playing hell with his metabolism.
The krogan reclined, and conjured images of omni-tools, shaved into shanks and bladed weapons that the warriors of old would have held in higher regard than mere credits. He imagined a high-quality omni-tool could be fashioned into a decent blade, though it might not hold its edge for very long. Perhaps one use would be better than none.
Urdnot Wrex suddenly recalled the ease with which his hand-forged knife entered the trunk of his father's body, momentum compensating for the dented tip. That was a damn good blade.
No makeshift shanks for you, old timer.
It had been a long day. Even during the precious moments she had to herself, Dr. T'Soni could not seem to relax. She had experienced fluctuating levels of anxiety over the past few hours, waves of nausea that only subsided when she managed to distract herself from thoughts of the upcoming mission.
Why had Shepard chosen her?
Liara T'Soni was not a warrior. She preferred to see the good in other people, even when they behaved aggressively or sneered callously whenever she offered her insight. The crew of the Normandy had been very slow in warming up to her; in fact, the mess hall would often grow quiet whenever she passed through. They were cautious and mistrustful, perhaps because they were humans. She did not know the underlying causes of human behavior. Her limited experience with humans prevented her from drawing any reasonable conclusions about their nature.
On more than one occasion, Liara noticed the younger crewmen staring at her. Whenever she attempted to question them, they seemed busy and nervous. She postulated that human sexuality held a very unique status within human culture, a source of tremendous fear and reverence all at once, like some temperamental deity.
Thank the goddess she was not so fearful.
Of course, their curiosities may have been intellectual, like hers. It was possible, given that she was the only asari aboard the Normandy. She suspected that she appeared just as alien to them as they did to her. Perhaps human interpersonal relationships only extended to other species once in a blue moon.
The Normandy's senior engineer nodded his head when she first entered the engine room, but made no effort to communicate beyond this.
Blue moon.
Shepard had used this antiquated idiom once, and Liara suspected it had been intended as a joke, targeting the asari specifically for their blue skin tone. She wished she could understand the humor in such words. She did not have an impressive array of witticisms at her disposal, but she knew that humor was very important in easing tensions between parties.
One of her old classmates had a passing interest in intergalactic diplomacy. She sometimes wondered what that bubbly little asari girl would think of the dangers Liara faced regularly in these recent-
"Liara? What are you doing here?"
The asari turned from the engine control terminal she'd been studying, and saw the quarian's dark silhouette emerge from the shadows. Like the asari, quarians had been a historically mysterious race; many were slow to trust them. Even within her anthropological studies, Dr. T'Soni admitted that her knowledge of quarian culture was rudimentary, at best.
"I'm sorry if I have⦠invaded your privacy. I was hoping to speak with you", Liara spoke, instantly regretting her use of the word invade. What was it about this ship that made her feel so guilty all the time?
"My privacy?" the quarian sounded almost bemused. "I don't own this ship, Liara. I'm not even sure Shepard feels like she owns it".
"I see your point", the asari nodded, trying her best to remain cautiously diplomatic. Liara's unrestrained curiosity had been a source of annoyance for too many people today. Some of the crew tolerated her presence better than others.
"Lieutenant Alenko recently shared an old human expression with me, something about curiosity and animals, but I cannot seem to-"
"Oh, I know that one. Curiosity killed the cat, right?" the quarian piped up eagerly, and Liara was instantly reminded of childhood companions during the earliest decades of her basic education. She had very few of them, but she recalled their little faces fondly.
"Yes, I think that's it", she replied, unable to suppress a smirk. "I gave some thought to it, but I'm not sure it makes any sense to me".
"I know what you mean", the quarian agreed with great gusto. "Curiosity is obviously very important to humans, but they seem to hold it back so many times, like a domesticated creature. I don't really understand it".
"It's a warning", the human engineer added, still appearing to be very busy at his console.
"A warning?" Liara asked, intellect shredded by apprehension.
"Yep. Curiosity is part of our nature, as humans".
"But why do you repress things that are within your nature, Adams?" the quarian pressed him. "I mean, curiosity is what had allowed humanity to make such speedy progress, isn't it?"
"Speedy progress isn't always good progress, Tali. I'm proud of my people, but we all have our faults".
"Interesting", Tali cocked her head, mulling over this new information. Liara was surprised to find herself grinning; she felt more pleased by this interaction than by her recently acquired insight into human culture.
"Oh, I had nearly forgotten what I wanted to ask you, Tali" she spoke aloud as the quarian drew closer to her. Perhaps the quarian norms regarding personal space were relatively flexible.
"What is it? You can ask me anything".
Although the asari was certainly several decades older than the quarian, she never considered herself to be anyone's elder or superior. In fact, she felt inexplicably comforted by the quarian's musical tone. Perhaps later she could research quarian musicians, and maybe even listen to a sample of their songs.
"Shepard has asked me to join her on Noveria. She also asked me to select another member of the crew to come along, and I was eager to hear your input".
"Oh", the quarian did not sound disappointed, but her head seemed to drop slightly. T'Soni nearly panicked, and tried to conjure some quick response to soften the impact of her accidental offense to the quarian, but the words did not come to her easily. Tali lifted her head, and offered her suggestion in grayscale, like a painting stripped of its color.
"Garrus might be a good choice".
"Garrus?"
"Yes. He's very smart, and he can hold his own in a firefight".
"What about you, Tali?" Liara spoke openly, deciding that the quarian's extroverted personality would allow her to manage the occasional misspoken word or unfiltered emotion.
"About me? I suppose I am also useful in a firefight. Most people think I am fragile, either because of my suit or my age, I don't really know. But you should see the looks I get from thugs and mercenaries, especially after I've disabled their kinetic barriers. It is like stripping them of their protection, and they usually run or hide in humiliation".
T'Soni was intrigued by the possibility of having such a tiny ally cause so much trouble for a group of heavily-armored mercenaries. The image might have caused a human to grin, but T'Soni was far more pleased by her own ability to carry on such an extensive conversation without a single mishap.
Brushing away the glitter of pride, she spoke very directly to the quarian.
"I would like you to come with us, Tali".
There. That was what she meant to say, wasn't it? Liara was glad she had learned the quarian's first name, as it was one less potential embarrassment she would have lingering over her head.
"Really? Do you know how much time we have before leaving?
"Shepard told me to take my time deciding on a third party member. I assume you will have a few moments to prepare, if that is what worries you".
"No, I'm not worried. Just a little excited, I guess. Noveria was one of our best leads when we first began our search. So far, we've found clues on Feros and in the Artemis Tau cluster, but nothing too substantial. I mean, nothing that tells us exactly where we can find Saren".
T'Soni wished she could have been more helpful in this search. Since she had not been able to offer the level of insight Shepard had desired, she had spent most of her time alone, in the office beside the medical bay. It was a quiet place where she could study and think without interruption. Shepard had been kind to offer it to her, but she could not help feeling like she was in some dark closet during much of her stay.
She tried her best not to let her selfish feelings get the better of her, but if Shepard believed her presence would be helpful during the course of this particular mission, she would have to trust the commander's judgment.
They were looking for her mother, after all.
"I should report to Shepard", Liara spoke up, boldly shattering the layer of tension that fell upon the room when Saren's name had been spoken.
"Okay. I'll meet you there later, Liara. I have a good feeling about this mission".
"Thank you. I am looking forward to working with you, as well", Liara replied, scarcely believing her own words.
The quarian and the asari went their separate ways. Had she been more artistically inclined, Liara might have found their departure worthy of a sculpture or song.
A quarian melody, perhaps.
