Author's Note:
This story occurs in an AU from my previous incantations of Lakota Shepard. She's still an Earthborn, sole survivor with paragade leanings, and is an Infiltrator who loves her sniper rifle, but now her love comprises the presence of a certain quarian engineer.
Told solely from Tali's POV, the tale will encompass five chapters. The hope is that while reciting Tali's adventure each chapter will also reflect upon the quarian's personal growth and ever-evolving relationship with Shepard.
Many, many thanks to Lyaksandra for graciously volunteering to beta read. This fic would be paltry and drab without your sage advice and input. [Bows in humble gratitude.]
Lyaksandra - www [dot] fanfiction [dot] net/u/2544544/
As always, thanks for reading! And a special thanks to those who Fav, Alert and Review. Your interest and feedback continue to motivate and inspire.
P.S. – This story was edited on 12.11.11. Since the tale is now complete, I removed most of the Author's Notes that were written before each chapter, in order to give it a more free-flowing feel.
Chapter 1: Tali'Zorah nar Rayya
Unbeknownst to Lakota Shepard, down in the dull, dark depths of the engineering bay, has always been the light that burns fiercest only for her. Covering the timeline from ME1, ME2 and beyond. This is Tali's story, told in her own words...
My name is Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya.
I have spent the last eight months on board the SSV Normandy SR-1, a prototype Alliance ship captained by Commander Lakota Shepard, hero of the Alliance and the first human Spectre.
I was part of her multiracial crew. We were considered an inspiring example of what varying species could accomplish when we set aside our cultural differences and Lakota was the medigel that held us together. Her leadership and guidance united us all; turian, asari, human, krogan and quarian, into a cohesive unit. The solidarity she instilled became a symbol that gave people hope.
Lakota once told me, "Hope is a good thing and good things never die."
She lied.
I am tired. Weary. My heart aches and I have no cure, no salve to mend the break or hold back the void from which absence springs. No stim. No distraction. No focus.
I have no focus.
Damn you, Shepard.
Damn you for making me part of your crew. For enfolding me into your life. For treating me with respect. For making me care about you.
Damn you, for dying.
It's funny. Maybe even ironic. After all of these years, I am finally able to understand my father's distance.
My mother died just over five years ago, a victim of an airborne virus that ravaged the Migrant fleet. Not an uncommon occurrence taking into account the artificial environment of the Flotilla. The threat of death by infection or disease is part of every Quarian's life experience.
My father, Rael'Zorah, is a military man and a member of the Admiralty Board. After my mother's death, he all but disappeared to me. Swallowed into his work. In my grief, I found no comfort or solace from him. I thought I would never be doomed to feel so desolate and alone again.
I was wrong.
So now, once again, I am haunted by all that has fallen bereft at my feet.
I feel helpless against the endless tide of questions thundering through my brain never able to find a convenient home. I can't stop thinking about all the things I wanted to say, but never said. All the things I wanted to do, but never did. All those things I wanted to give, but never gave.
You never knew how easy it was for me to fall in love with you…because I never told you.
Nine months ago, soon after leaving the Flotilla and embarking on my Pilgrimage, I intercepted an important audio file. I had tracked a patrol of geth, waited until one was alone, and then took out the unit. I was able to retrieve the data before the core was completely corrupted. There's a quick and dirty method to disabling a geth, you just have to know their weaknesses.
The audio file revealed that a third party was responsible for the geth attack on Eden Prime. I knew the data was important, but was unsure what to do with it. I travelled to the Citadel and ran across Dr. Michel. Through her, I was able to make contact with an information agent known as the Shadow Broker and I set up a meeting. I thank my father for my knowledge on the Broker. Although eavesdropping was a punishable offence if caught, it was the only way I felt as though I was a part of his life.
I expected the Shadow Broker to show for the meeting. A foolish, naïve mistake. One that I almost paid for with my life. Fate, though, had different plans for me and instead of dying, I was saved by a bold and courageous stranger.
Being outnumbered by mercenaries who wanted to steal the data, I used a proximity mine to buy some time. Before I could conceive of a workable strategy to extricate myself from that mess, an Alliance soldier, deftly wielding a sniper rifle and tech tricks of her own, elegantly decimated the remaining assassins. I was rendered speechless...which is saying a lot knowing my tendency to ramble.
When your life is on the line, it's hard not to be impressed by unsolicited acts of heroism. Especially, when the beautiful, imposing savior is equal parts charm and menace.
"Fist set me up!"
"Don't worry about Fist. He got what was coming to him."
"Then I guess there are two things I need to thank you for. Who are you?"
"My name's Shepard."
I was suspicious at first and wondered what sort of angle you had in helping me. After quick introductions were made, my suspicions were somewhat abated. I had heard about you during my travels: Commander Lakota Shepard, survivor of the Akuze massacre, an Alliance hero, albeit a title given through tragic circumstances.
Humans were very proud of their heroes and had no qualms about blasting names across the extranet and media. It was a well known fact, if not a whispered joke, that humans were attempting to gain a solid foothold in galactic politics and wanted a seat on the Citadel Council.
Seeing you face to face, though, I didn't get the impression you were the type to be caught up in political agendas.
As much as I tried to fight it, my instincts wouldn't let me dislike you. Fate, it seemed, had its own plans for me, as well. We took the audio data to your ambassador and fate revealed its hand by shining upon me a second time that day. The audio data was the exact evidence needed in order to implicate Saren Arterius, a Turian Spectre, as a traitor. It also revealed that he was in league with the geth and an unknown female.
The next step was taking the proof to the Citadel Council. Afterward, they bequeathed you with Spectre status, an honor given to few, especially if your race doesn't already hold a seat on the Council.
The methods of finding and promoting individuals to the rank of Spectre have always seemed a bit nepotistic to me. In this, you seemed gifted with the ability to operate outside conventional parameters. A fact that continually surprised me.
I wanted… No… I needed to see these events with the geth through. I needed to follow the path fate had set in front of me, so when the council meeting was concluded, I convinced you to let me join your crew.
I had no idea what that decision was going to cost me.
The Normandy was a magnificent feat of engineering. Built by human and Turian hands, the prototype frigate was an amazingly designed stealth ship with unprecedented technology. Travelling in a vessel like that was a dream come true.
We immediately set about the hunt for Saren. Our quest took us to Therum, a mining world in the Knossos system where we picked up the Asari scientist, Liara T'Soni. By that time, we knew her mother, Matriarch Benezia, was in league with the rogue Spectre. Liara said she hadn't seen her mother in years, so she was unaware of any dissention. My instincts told me to believe her, but the Alliance crew wasn't as open-minded and kept a watchful eye.
I felt sorry for Liara. She was guilty by association. Much like my people have been treated over the years. We Quarians are seen as little more than scavengers piecing together whatever bits of scrap metal we find to build and maintain our ragtag, ancient armada. On some logical level, it is a correct assessment, but that does nothing to ease the sting of shame when walking amongst other species. Two centuries have passed and we are still paying for the debacle with the geth.
But you, Shepard, you never treated Liara differently. You never approached her in an adversarial manner. I saw the way you spoke to her, listened to her and had genuine concern for her well-being. It surprised me to see a human treat another species with such respect. I saw it in the way you spoke with Wrex and Garrus, as well.
At first, when you came down to engineering and asked how I was doing, I thought you were just making your rounds. I thought talking to each member of your crew was just another checkpoint on your list of things to do. Over the course of weeks, which turned into months, I realized I was wrong. You were generally interested in me, in my life, in finding out more about me. Your interest in me furthered my fascination regarding you.
Because of the sincerity I saw in your eyes, I revealed more of myself than I had to any other. I told you about the contained life on the Flotilla; my mother's death; how uncomfortable it felt to be on the Normandy and about my drive to bring something important back from my Pilgrimage.
You never once belittled my stories or my endeavor. If anything, you were encouraging.
Your attentiveness was unexpected. When I first joined your crew, I thought you'd be aloof, unapproachable. Instead, you were amiable and easy going, but you also had a shroud of intrigue about you. Whenever I asked a question, you somehow redirected the conversation back to me. In those first few months, I knew no more about you than when I initially walked onto the ship. You were a complete mystery to me.
And engineers love a mystery.
After Therum, we travelled to Noveria to intercept Matriarch Benezia. Along the way, we uncovered more of Saren's plan and learned about the Reaper ship, Sovereign. We also stumbled across a member of a long-thought dead species, the Rachni queen. She was caged and had been used for vile experiments. A century earlier, the rachni race had gone to war against the known galaxy, but instead of holding her responsible for the actions of her ancestors, you let her go. I was taken aback by your compassionate gesture. That action alone revealed a piece of your complex personality. I now saw the direct, aggressive attitude presented to others as a form of armor and beneath your armored surface churned a paradoxical, compelling individual. My interest in you deepened tenfold.
I did find out one interesting fact while running about Noveria, you hated the cold and snow. In fact, while traveling in a Mako up to the research station on Peak 15, you constantly grumbled about the inclement weather. "Snow," you said, "was the unnecessary freezing of water." Your disdain for the white flakes was adorable.
A great sadness occurred during our exploration through the research station: Matriarch Benezia died. I was there with you and Liara in those final moments. I saw the madness in the Matriarch's eyes, heard the profanity of her words, but I also witnessed those few moments when she regained her faculties and spoke candidly to her daughter. You sought to find another way, but Sovereign's control of her was too great and you had to end her life.
Liara was unusually, but understandably, quiet afterward.
Seeing an individual so violently dominated by Sovereign's will was unsettling on many levels. Indoctrination goes against the very laws of nature and is a tool of fiends. If I am ever possessed in such a perverted fashion, I hope someone has the compassion to end it for me. To this day, I am still haunted by the Matriarch's final words, "I am not myself; I never will be again."
Once we returned to the Normandy, I sought Liara out. I knew what it was like to lose a mother, and so I went down to the med lab to offer something, anything, to the Asari scientist. When I arrived, I saw you walk in. You didn't notice me, so I stepped aside and waited in the mess. I planned to talk with Liara after you departed, but forty minutes later, you were still in the lab.
I remember the feeling of a hot spike being inserted in my stomach. The queasiness and shakiness that came with it. I left the mess and headed back to engineering to distract myself with an artifact that had been discovered during the latest planetary exploration. I was grateful for the shielded confinement of my environmental suit.
Life on the Normandy continued to follow that pattern over the course of months. You had captured my attention and I found I was envious of the time you shared with the Asari. Although you spent time with Williams, Alenko, Garrus, Wrex and I, you devoted the vast majority of your free time to Liara. Even Alenko seemed agitated by your focused ministration on the scientist. Your time with the rest of the crew didn't rankle me in any fashion. I'm sure it's because only a fool would have missed the energetic interaction between you and Liara. I wish I had been such a fool.
One day, I was in a particularly foul mood. An old, orbital probe was giving me fits and you happened to walk into engineering. My frustration emboldened me to ask a question that had been sifting through my head for weeks.
"Hey, Tali, how goes the dismantling?"
"It doesn't. This… This, bosh'tet is a juvenile piece of unimaginatively plebian technology that requires a simpler mind than mine to dismantle."
"Hey! Perfect. That means I can help."
"Shepard, you are no engineer."
"Ouch. No, I'm not, but I do know my way around a circuit board or two. Lest you forget that I have a few tech tricks of my own."
"No, I haven't forgotten. In fact, you understand more than most of Chief Adam's crew."
"Hah! Now there's the nice Quarian I've come to know and love."
"Shepard, why are you down here?"
"What? Why? I didn't know I needed a reason."
"I just… I mean… It seems you've been spending a lot of time in the med lab."
If you could have seen my face, felt my pulse, heard my breathing, you would have known what it took for me to blatantly call you out in that fashion. Your response surprised me though.
"True. I have. But I enjoy our time together, Tali. I like talking with you. For as much as Liara and I share, there is a fundamental difference. Scientists study the world as it is; engineers create the world that has never been. I am an engineer at heart."
I snatched up those words and held onto them as though they were a glass of cool, spring water given while traveling across a torrid desert. They gave me a sense of peace, a sense of connection and sense common ground with you. I never let them go.
Afterwards, although we were on an important mission with galactic significance, a comfortable routine seemed to settle in throughout the crew of the Normandy. Your leadership and guidance were integral facets to the ease in which we all performed our duties. An enjoyable, rewarding routine settled in between you and me, as well. I looked forward to the quiet occasions we spent together on various projects or just talking about frivolous things and did my best to ignore your time apportioned to Liara.
Even now, I find that I am still jealous of the moments conferred to the Asari scientist.
The next main planetary mission was Feros. The geth had attacked a human colony, Zhu's Hope, but we discovered the root cause of their interest had been generated by what the colony had uncovered: Species 37, the Thorian. The ExoGeni Corporation, the colony's sponsor, had allowed unsanctioned, horrid experiments to be conducted on the unsuspecting colonists. When the geth attacked, the colonists, now thralls of the Thorian blocked the entrance to the ancient alien's lair with their wrecked ship and defended the entity with their lives.
But you found a way around killing the enthralled colonists. You took the extra steps and measures to ensure no unnecessary deaths occurred. You even spared the life of the manipulated Asari acolyte, Shiala.
I don't know of any other individuals who would have extended themselves in that way. Your selfless actions made a mark upon me. One that I won't soon forget.
And then there was Virmire. The dirty, sad, irrevocable actions of Virmire. My heart went out to you and the choices you were forced to make on that mission. Sovereign's part fully revealed, Saren's inevitable escape, the destruction of the krogan genophage cure and, worst of all, Ashley's death.
After Virmire, the Normandy headed back to the Citadel. While en route, I went looking for you. I wanted to see how you were doing and found you holed up in your quarters. Alone. You were sitting on your bed staring blankly at the floor.
I sat down next to you, but you didn't seem to notice. I could feel the heavy sadness radiating off your being.
"Shepard, I am so sorry."
"Yeah. Thanks. I… I…"
I reached out and held your right hand. I'd never been so physically close to you before. Never touched you before. Well, not without rifle fire and proximity mines exploding around us. I wasn't sure how to comfort you; I only knew I wanted to. You placed your left hand over mine and we sat there in a peaceful, comfortable silence. The moment was neither hurried nor awkward. Although only a few minutes passed, it seemed as though an endless eternity slipped by, offering us both a bit of unexpected serenity. When you looked up at me, eyes glistening with unshed tears, you smiled.
I'd never seen that smile before. I like to think of it as mine alone.
Then a mischievous glint, one I knew all too well, sparkled in your eyes and you said something to lighten the mood, but at the same time, utterly confused me.
"There is a saying about female engineers. Would you like to hear it?"
"Sure."
"Female engineers become irresistible at the age of consent and remain that way until about thirty minutes after their clinical death. Longer if it's a warm day."
Keelah.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. So I didn't act at all.
I kick myself because of my inaction.
That moment has stayed with me through the highs and lows of what followed. It felt like you were trying to tell me something, but I was too scared to act on it or question it. Too unsure of myself. Even now, this remembered image of you continues to pervade my mind and ravage my soul.
"What ifs" are torturous thoughts, at best. Debilitating, at their worst. Because of their overwhelming nature, I find there are times I want to close my eyes and make believe I never found you, but as expected, you're not that easily forgotten.
I wish you were here now. I wish you were standing right in front of me, even if it was just to lie to me once again and tell me everything will be alright.
But you're not. And you won't. I should have known you would bring me heartache.
Soon after the assignment in the Armstrong Nebula, you surprised me once again. A habit you seemed fond of repeating. You walked into engineering and nonchalantly offered me the gift of a lifetime. You gave me a copy of data detailing the early days of the geth. Just like that. No strings attached. No questions. No ulterior motive. When I asked if this would elicit trouble with the Alliance you told me not to worry. In your opinion, the Alliance owed me and in this, your opinion was the only one that mattered.
"I am going to do everything in my power to help you succeed, Tali. If you ever need me, I'll be there for you. I'm not going to let you fall."
You didn't ask it of me, but I stayed on as part of the Normandy crew. I felt compelled to finish what we started. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I wanted to help you in any way that I could. And inexplicably, I had faith in your abilities to succeed.
The rest of our exploits are a bit of a blur. The Council locked down the Normandy, but we stole the ship and went after Saren.
My father will be so pleased to hear about that tidbit.
We travelled to Ilos via the Mu Relay, and then launched ourselves through the Conduit to stop Saren, destroy Sovereign, and ultimately, save the Citadel Council.
It was an amazing adventure. One I didn't think we had any chance of surviving. But I, like Saren and Sovereign, underestimated your courage, your perseverance and your ability to triumph where others would fail. I watched as you fearlessly confronted Saren. You defied his very nature by brazenly challenging his motives, his actions and ultimately, his undisguised indoctrination. Your words and conviction burrowed their way through Sovereign's choke hold over Saren, and in a last act to attain some redemption, regain some of what he once was, he killed himself. Even the face of staggering adversity and the blatant display of Sovereign's raw power, you never backed down. Not once. You selflessly risked yourself, never surrendering, never succumbing, and never submitting to the technological slaver's rule. When cornered, you were as ferocious as the tigers you loved so much.
I guess that's why you were chosen to be a Spectre. You made things happen. You got things done with limited resources and under impossible odds. It seemed nothing would stop you. You seemed a force of nature of which none could contain. Too late, though, I found out that you were no superhero.
After the defeat of Saren and Sovereign, the Normandy was regulated to the Citadel for repairs. Your time was spent between giving reports to the Alliance and the Council, seeing to your duties as commander of the ship and also, spending time with Liara. I could tell something had changed between the two of you. It was subtle, but by that time, I was adept at noticing the nuances of your behavior.
I could only guess at the shift, but that guess was enough to make me ill. And then…
And then…
Then the Normandy travelled to the Omega Nebula in search of geth. Instead, we encountered a hostile starship that obliterated the Normandy within minutes. Minutes. What kind of ship could do that?
I was in engineering when the attack first started. I made it to an escape pod with Chief Adams and other crew members. I was frantic to find out about the rest of the crew. To find out about you. In my helplessness, I condemned myself to stare at the nauseating destruction of the Normandy. The most beautiful ship I'd ever seen, torn asunder amidst the silent landscape of starry space. Eerily and utterly quiet space.
I knew. I can't explain it, but I knew. As I looked upon the desecration of the Normandy, I knew you were gone. I shutdown my suit's audio and stood in stunned silence. I felt a gaping hole open in my chest. All of the sadness witnessed by my eyes, all of the anguish spiraling from my soul, prevailed in suffocating the forlorn cries emanating from my heart and mind.
I was paralyzed.
As the Normandy was ripped apart, piece by piece, so was my heart. All I could do was watch and weep. I'm not sure how long I stood at the view port, a witness to the reflection of my own demise. Minutes? Hours? Days? By the time we were rescued, I was all but catatonic.
Now I find myself, one week after being rescued, still unable to think of anything but you. Unable to forget a past that relentlessly haunts me. I have been reduced to whispering words of dismal regret to a ghost who lingers within my thoughts, hovers within my dreams, and at one time, danced within my hopes.
Nothing is able to fill the blackness that has slipped inside my chest.
Commander Lakota Shepard. Survivor of the Akuze massacre. Alliance hero. First human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel.
Dead.
So many things left unsaid. So many things left undone.
I promise that I will not forget you. I promise that I will never let you go.
Ever.
Goodbye, my hopeless dream.
Keelah se'lai.