Pilgrimage
A Mass Effect fan fiction by xahra99
"Do you intend to work in the Citadel?"
Tali'Zorah nar'Rayya shook her head. When the customs official stared at her she replied "No," quickly and went back to scanning the queues. None of the assembled aliens looked as if they were working for Saren.
But that doesn't mean a thing, she thought. They just might be really good at hiding.
Tali had given Saren's men the slip in deep space. She'd taken as roundabout a route as she dared between the geth's planet and the Citadel, hoping to throw them off her scent. Deep in her hearts, she knew it wouldn't work. Saren was a Spectre, and Spectres, whatever else they might be, were not stupid.
It was a pity, she thought, but it couldn't be helped.
Tracking the geth had been exciting at first, but it had stopped being exciting right about the time that she got shot. And now she was tired, hungry, and wounded and she'd been waiting three hours at the Citadel spaceport just to be allowed in. With every minute that passed the sight of the city became a little less marvelous. The port seemed more crowded. The forms seemed more complicated. And the straight legs and round face of the human official seemed more alien than ever.
Tali sighed and clutched at the bandage around her right arm. The customs official paused in his-or her, Tali hadn't quite grasped the details of human secondary sexual characteristics- questioning and asked "Are you all right?"
It was the first sign of sympathy that Tali'Zorah nar Rayya had received since she'd entered the port.
She burst into tears.
Her biosuit absorbed and recycled the saline and her translator muffled the sobs, but some o0f her distress undoubtedly got through, because the human raced through the rest of the paperwork in less than a minute. He stamped a pass form with a flourish and shoved it at her. "You might want to get that looked at," he said as he gestured to her arm.
Tali hesitated. "Where?"
"I'd head to the wards. That's where you'll find the med clinic.' He glanced skeptically at Tali. "Besides, I've heard you people feel more at home there."
Tali forgave the 'you people' for the sake of the information. "I thank you."
She correctly interpreted an expression of surprise on the human's face as he beckoned the next person forwards. "Don't mention it," he said.
Tali folded her pass and slipped it into one of the pockets of her environmental suit. The doors picked up the chip encoded into the form and swished open as she approached. The corridor it revealed was average enough, if a little smarter and cleaner than most quarian hallways. Tali walked to the end. The second set of doors was a little slower to slide open. She felt the back of her neck prickle and guessed that she was being scanned. As the door swished open, she knew that she must have passed.
The Citadel more than fullfilled her expectations.
Tali had carried a hazy picture of the station in her mind-somewhere safe, somewhere with people she could ask for help-but the image paled in comparison to the reality.
The sky overhead was wider and more vivid than Tali had ever seen in her short, ship-bound life. Low, white buildings framed a knot of trees-trees, in a public space!-and a lake. The water alone would have been worth hundreds of credits in the frozen desert of deep space. Tali wondered how they recycled it.
She allowed herself a few seconds to enjoy the view, before she turned left towards the information terminals. Fluorescent orange arrows gave directions. Tali had lived most of her life on shipboard. She found the markers reassuringly familiar.
The lobby was decorated with shrubs in pots. Tali reached out and plucked a leaf from a tree. She rubbed it through her fingers and caught a whiff of astringent scent through her mask.
"Welcome!"
Tali jumped and dropped the leaf. A glowing asari peered at her from a few paces away. She was perfectly proportioned, but slightly smaller than she should have been; scaled down to fit the restricted space of the lobby. A VI, she realized with relief.
"Welcome to Presidium Tourism Terminal One!" the asari said in a tone of relentless optimism. "There are many points of interest here; including the citadel embassies and C-sec –"
"Wait!" Tali said quickly. The VI paused. It cocked its head, waiting for a response.
"Where do I find the quarian embassy?"
The asari shook her head as if in sadness, but her expression and her tone of voice did not change. "I do not understand. There is no quarian embassy on this station. Quarians are not currently Council races. "
Tali waved her hand. She smelt a fleeting scent of the sap. "Forget it," she said, grumpily. No quarian liked to be reminded of their non-council status-and especially not by a VI.
The VI continued with its pre-programmed script. ""On the far end of this level you can see the Citadel Tower, where the Council meets regularly to discuss matters of interstellar importance."
"How do I see the council?"
"They sit in session on the tenth and fourteenth day of each month. Anyone can see them."
Tali cursed the VI under her breath. At times like this, she could understand just why her people had engineered real Artificial Intelligences rather than these pale and programmed travesties. She rephrased. "How do I talk to them?"
"Inquiries may be submitted in the proper manner, care of the embassy receptionist."
"Where's that?"
The VI pointed over Tali's shoulder. As Tali looked around, she saw an asari seated behind a relentlessly minimalist desk. She took a step towards the desk and realized that the VI was waiting for her cue.
"…. Oh. Goodbye."
Was that relief on the AI's face? "Goodbye," she replied. "Thank you for using Avina. Please enjoy your visit to the citadel."
Tali shook her head as she walked away. Quarians had VI's too, but they didn't make them look like people. She felt stupid taking leave of a machine.
The receptionist was even less use than the VI. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, after Tali had folded her arms on the desk top and coughed pointedly a few times.
"What is this place?" Tali asked.
The asari looked down her nose at Tali, a feat that should have been impossible given that Tali was standing and she was seated. "This is the Presidium. More specifically, this is the citadel embassies. If you have more questions please access Avina."
"The VI?"
The asari nodded. "Please feel free to access the terminal for yourself," she said pointedly, managing to imply long queues of customers all clamouring for her service with the arch of a single eyebrow.
Tali looked over her shoulder reflexively. There was nobody else there. "I already did." she said grumpily. "It told me to come here. I need to speak to the council."
The asari looked unimpressed.
"It's a matter of life or death." Tali added. The sentence was a trifle dramatic, but she thought she'd earned it.
One elegant eyebrow raised, "Oh, whose?"
"Mine." Tali snapped.
"I understand," the asari said soothingly, while Tali thought No, you really don't, "But I can't just let you in like that. I can book you an appointment for the public viewing, but all other enquiries will have to be submitted through your embassy."
"There isn't an embassy!"
The asari shrugged. "Then I suggest you take the matter up with your own people.'
"My own people,' Tali hissed, "are thousands of light years away." Tali hissed. The spike in her ichor pressure did nothing for her wounded arm. Her suit seemed far too tight. The wound throbbed.
The asari shrugged again.
"I need to go." Tali said through gritted teeth. She turned away.
"Have a pleasant day!" the asari called after her.
"Drop dead." Tali grated.
She edged out into the open courtyard, looking desperately for another quarian-or, at the very least, a sympathetic face. She found neither. Asari and turians predominated, with a few humans and the odd hanar or salarian standing out in the crowd. A glowing console stood by the railing overlooking the lake. Tali gravitated towards it. She understood consoles. Electronics were simple, or at least a whole lot less complicated than the mess she was currently in.
She stabbed a button.
"Citadel rapid transit," the console said in pleasant unaccented quarian. "Please choose a citadel rapid transit destination." Its screen displayed two options; Wards, or Presidium. The 'Wards' option gave a choice of C-sec, the mysteriously named Chora's Den, or the med clinic. Tali stabbed a finger at the clinic option fast, before it disappeared, and then had to listen to the console spell out her choice for her. She had just enough time to think that quarian tech was less polite but a whole lot more efficient when the transit system picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously in a dull grey corridor. The sight almost brought tears to Tali's eyes for the second time that day. It felt like home.
She found the clinic without too much trouble. A human woman with exotic red hair poked at her arm and said "Bullet wound?"
Tali nodded. She didn't feel like explaining about the geth.
"You're lucky it didn't penetrate your environmental suit," the doctor said. The touch of her fingers was cool and professional. "We don't see many quarians here."
Tali glanced up, ready to defend her honour, but the doctor had already looked away. Just an observation, then.
"That's an odd projectile mark," the doctor mused. She looked up. "What did this?"
Tali removed her arm from the doctor's grip as politely as she could manage. "Please. I'm fine. I just need medigel."
"Then that'll be fifty credits."
"Twenty five." Tali bargained.
The doctor shook her head. "This isn't the market."
Tali sighed. She handed over the cash. The doctor nodded. She took out a can of gel and loosened the 'port on Tali's suit. "Be careful out there," she said as she squeezed the gel into the suit. "The wards aren't the safest of places. But you probably knew that already."
Tali nodded. "But I've heard you can find anything you want here," she said.
"You're shopping? Anything you want you can find for sale in the wards. Legal -or otherwise." The doctor closed Tali's suit 'port.
Tali looked up at her, "I need protection," she said simply.
"Protection? From who?"
"You don't want to know," Tali told her. The sentence would have seemed glamorous if she hadn't been fleeing for her life.
"Can't you go to C-sec?"
"I can't trust anyone. You've patched up a lot of bullet wounds. You must know people."
The doctor gave Tali a long look. Tali did not blink. Quarians were brought up to be law abiding but they quickly learned how to work alternatives. "Do you have anything to trade?"
"Information."
The doctor sighed. "That'd be the Shadow Broker that you want then."She handed Tali a business card. "Have you ever heard of him?"
Tali turned the card over in her glove. It didn't look like the sort of business card a doctor would have. A blue foil silhouette of a naked asari reclined across the plastic. "No."
"He-or it, nobody knows for sure- trades in information. If you have some, take this card. Go to Chora's Den. Ask for Fist. He might be able to help you-for a price."
'What kind of price?" Quarians were merchants at heart.
"Let's say that you'd have to be in big trouble. Or it wouldn't be worth it."
"I'm in big trouble."
"Then he should be able to help you." As Tali got up to go, the doctor tossed her a can of medigel. "On me. And, Tali'Zorah nar'Rayya?"
"Yes?"
"Take care."
Tali nodded and left the clinic. She turned right, towards the markets. To her left, smoked-glass windows showcased a stunning view of the Citadel. Tali stayed as far away from it as she could. The open vistas were impressive, but they made her uncomfortable.
The markets were in full swing. Traders of all the races haggled over used kit and trinkets. Tali gave none of the stalls more than a cursory glance. She needed to save her cash, but she paused as a hanar merchant called to her.
"This one greets you. Would you care to see some of its fantastic items today?"
Tali had met hanar before. Simple good manners made her reply. "Greetings. If this one had more time or credits it would be pleased to browse your shop. Unfortunately this one is in need of more basic requirements."
"How can this one aid you?" the hanar asked politely. Hanar were always polite to the ears of other species.
"This one requires directions to this location," Tali said. She held up the card. "Can you assist?"
"Oh, this one is pleased to do so, quarian. This place is Chora's Den. The easiest way to reach this place is by the rapid transit. Follow the sign; go straight through the doors, left then right. This place is easy to find."
"My thanks."
"Return soon."
Tali hoped that she would be able to. The hanar's directions were good, and she found Chora's Den easily. The giant illuminated sign over the door didn't exactly hurt.
The krogan bouncer stopped her with a hand on her arm as she went to walk through the door.
"This is a private club," he said.
Tali handed him the card. It looked tiny in the krogan's huge paw. "I'm here to see Fist."
"Does he know you're coming?"
"He will if you tell him." Tali started up at the bouncer through her visor. "I guarantee he'll want to see me. I have information to trade." She pulled out a few credits and held them out. "For your trouble."
The krogan looked at her without expression. Tali wondered if she had over-tipped him, or worse, underpaid. Finally his hand closed around the money. "Wait here," he said and touched the button on his mike. "Yssha? Got a visitor here. Says she's here to see Fist."
If there was a reply, it was inaudible. Tali waited.
Finally the door hissed open. A tall salarian dressed in a dark blue uniform stood in the doorway. He beckoned to Tali. "Come in," he said, and led her into the club.
The club did not impress Tali. Males of all species thronged around a circular bar. Asari and human dancers writhed on podiums placed around the edges of the room. They wore skin-tight bodysuits that left little to the imagination. The low-level red and blue lighting gave them a sinister cast.
"Where are the men?" Tali said without thinking.
Yssha gestured at the patrons. He looked at Tali as if she was impaired. "Here."
"The dancers," she asked. "Humans have two sexes. Where are the male dancers?"
The salarian looked scandalised. "This is a gentleman's club," he said; as if that explained anything.
Tali did not ask anything else.
The salarian led her through to a back room. They passed crates full of unidentified and presumably highly illegal substances. Tali looked around curiously. The humans working among the crates did not meet her eyes. She did not trust them. She did not like the club. But she knew she didn't have much choice.
She trusted the man called Fist even less. He had small eyes and a nervous, sweaty smell to him. He looked Tali up and down and said "So what do you want?"
"Are you Fist?"
The man nodded. "So what can I do you for? You want work? That suit's not the best thing, but I can't deny the novelty value."
"I don't dance."
"Pity."
"I need protection. And I'm willing to pay for it."
The human raised his eyebrows."Protection, hey? From who? And more importantly, what with? Anything's possible for the right price, but I need hard cash. Or good intel."
"I heard the Shadow Broker trades information. I have information I wish to trade for protection."
"Then you've come to the right place, darling," Fist said. "Me an' the Shadow Broker, we're like that." He crossed his fingers in a quarian obscene gesture.
"I don't think you meant that." Tali said.
Fist looked puzzled. "If you want help you'll have to tell me more than that," he said.
Tali looked at his small eyes. The problem with trading information, she thought, is that as soon as you divulge it, it's useless. "I've got evidence."
"Evidence of what?" When Tali paused he said "Come on. I'm a busy man. Time is credits, and all that?"
Tali swallowed. She lowered her voice to a whisper as if even the Spectre's name would summon him. "Saren. I have information about Saren Arterius."
The human's attention snapped to her instantly. "The Spectre? A pretty thing like you?" Before he had been interested, but a little bored, as if distracted. Now his attention was all hers. She didn't like it.
And I fail to see what my physical attributes have to do with any of this,
"Saren's no longer a Spectre. He's been demoted. And he's a traitor. I have proof of his connections with the geth."
The human frowned. "Geth? But they've never come beyond the veil! They're fairy tales."
Tali shook her head. "No. They're not." Her hand strayed up to touch the scar on her biosuit where the geth bullet had struck her.
The human reached for her. Tali leaned back. He shook his head. "Keep still. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want a closer look." He peered at the mark on her suit. "Geth did that?"
Tali grasped his hand between two fingers and removed it from her person like she would a ship roach. It seemed best to deny all contact. "No."
"Keep your mask on." Fist scowled."So what sort of information is this?"
"That's none of your concern."
Fist's hand snaked out again. "I could cut you a deal."
Tali slapped his hand away. "I don't deal with lowlife. I need to talk with the shadow broker myself."
"That's impossible. Nobody talks with the shadow broker. But I could liase with you. For a price." He named a figure. Tali halved it.
Fist shook his head. "Too low."
Tali added ten percent and Fist nodded slowly. "Okay. Half now and half later."
"Quarter now, three quarters later," Tali snapped.
"You're cutting my throat here."
Tali frowned. "I am not even touching you," she said. "If I chose to assault you, rest assured that you would be aware of it."
Fist snorted. "You make me laugh, quarian. Have it your way.' He held out his hand. "Quarter now, then. I'll set up a meeting. Where can I contact you?"
Tali handed over the credits, her mind working furiously. "Med bay," she said. The price Fist had named was all of the cash she had on her. She'd been hoping to save some credits for a place to sleep. She wondered if Doctor Michel would let her sleep in one of the spare bunks in the med centre. Tali's suit protected her from all contagious diseases, and the bunks were no more cramped than what she was used to.
As it turned out, she didn't have to. She made it as far as the market before she got a message, an actual printed message, handed to her by a small shabby human who ran away as soon as she'd taken the slip.
Tali turned the paper over.
14.00 hours. Start at Chora's Den. Turn right through doors. Turn left through two sets double doors. Walk along the corridor for 100 metres. Somebody will meet you there.
Come alone.
Tali looked around. She didn't have much time. If she had been aboard the Rayya she would have told somebody where she was going. But then if she had stayed aboard the Rayya she wouldn't have been in this mess to begin with. And who should she tell? The hanar? Doctor Michel?
Tali shook her head. She knew was being foolish. She'd come here for help and she was prepared to pay for it. Why would Fist fail to deliver on his promise? She was just another job as far as he was concerned.
She shook off her doubts and headed for the door.
The alleyway was behind the upper markets. A turian lingered against the wall. He wore combat armour and would have looked like trouble even if he hadn't had a pistol slung over his chest. He looked up at Tali's approach. "Did you bring it?"
"Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?"
"They'll be here. Where's the evidence?"
Tali shook her head. "No way. The deal's off."
The turian smiled nastily. Tali heard the sound of footsteps. Two salarians walked around the corner, armed for combat like the turian. All three of them drew their weapons.
Tali backed away.
She felt in the thigh pocket of her suit for a magnetic mine as she slid backwards. Her fingers touched rounded metallic edges.
"Give up," the nearest salarian said, "We don't want to chase you."
"Chase this," Tali said, and threw the mine.
It went off with a satisfactory bang, but did little damage. By then Tali had drawn her own pistol and flattened herself against the bulkhead. The salarians started shooting.
Like all quarians Tali was proficient with a pistol, but she knew her skills didn't extend to a close-range fire-fight in an enclosed space. Which was why she was rather surprised when first the turian, then the salarians crumpled to the ground in the space of a few seconds. The impact wounds made rather a mess, and she realized that the bullets were of a much higher calibre than her own.
She looked behind her, at the door. Three figures in combat suits stood in the opening. Since they weren't actually shooting, Tali decided they were friends. They made an odd group. One human, a turian with a purple glass lens over his left eye, and a hulking, scarred krogan.
The human spoke first. "Tali'Zorah nar Rayya?"
Tali holstered her pistol. "Fist set me up," she said, to nobody in particular."I knew I couldn't trust him."
"Were you hurt in the fight?" the human asked.
"I know how to look after myself. Not that I don't appreciate the help. Who are you?"
"My name's Shepard," the human said,
When April with his showers sweet with fruit
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower;
When Zephyr also has, with his sweet breath,
Quickened again, in every holt and heath,
The tender shoots and buds, and the young sun
Into the Ram one half his course has run,
And many little birds make melody
That sleep through all the night with open eye
(So Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage)-
Then do folk long to go on pilgrimage,
And palmers to go seeking out strange strands,
To distant shrines well known in sundry lands
Geoffrey Chaucer-The Caunterbury Tales(tr.)