This is how I imagined Tali might feel after escaping the attack of the Normandy and on her return to the migrant fleet. It was partially inspired by Ghostfires awesome artwork on DeviantArt.
I would like to thank Volrath937 and RiptideX1090, from Clan Z at BSN, for their input into the piece, and to Jane (Coombsi) for being a good sounding board and friend.
I'd like to dedicate this to all the Gentlemen Lovelies out there (and of course my Lovelies in Clan V).
(Just word of warning, there is some mature content in this piece, so if you are at all offended by the act of self love, I suggest you move on.)
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break. ~William Shakespeare
The characters and setting belong to Bioware, the thoughts and feelings are my own.
This suit protects me.
My flesh, my bones, my blood.
It is my exoskeleton.
Whilst the ship docks, I think back to my time on the Normandy. I smile at the memory of his hand in mine, its warmth, transmissible, even across my suit.
"Keelah se'lai, Tali," he had said once, his voice gentle.
My breath catches in my throat as he spoke those words, quarian words. It still makes me shiver. I suppress all thoughts of my former Commander. A voice on the comm shakes me from my reverie. "Docking is complete. Welcome back to the fleet, Tali'Zorah vas Neema."
Tali'Zorah vas Neema.
It sounds strange to me. "Vas Neema," I utter, as the mechanical groans of the shuttle grind against the Neema's docking clamps. I gather my meagre belongings, and make my way to the quarantine facilities. It has been a long time since I have been on a quarian ship. My chest swells from the emotion welling up in me. I am here, my new home.
When I arrive at the quarantine clean rooms I deposit the few things I have in the decontamination chute and step into the antechamber. A voice from a loud speaker is shrill in its instructions.
"Tali'Zorah, by way of introduction to the Neema, you are required to spend 24 hours in the clean room. Please take the time to rest, see to any wounds, and attend to any other personal needs. While this occurs, we shall take your suit and update it with new medical monitoring software and combat logistic support. We have some other new advanced features that may be useful and can easily be integrated with your omnitool. If this is not possible, we may upgrade you to a new suit entirely. Please place the suit in the transfer chute when you are inside."
A new suit? I run my hands over my hips. I am surprised at this offer, with a few upgrades this one will be perfectly fine.
When the door seals behind me, I hear a hiss, and feel the faintest of pressure at its closure. The stark room is small. A datapad and comm device sit on the table, a robe and fresh under clothes are on the bed. I am surprised to see a full length mirror against one wall. I can only guess that the reason for its presence is so I can examine myself for injury.
I begin to release the seals of my suit; each one makes a faint popping noise as I go. It is a sound I have heard many times before, but never so many in such quick succession. I'm excited, this will be the first time completely out of my suit since I first put it on many years ago.
I slowly start with my gloves, peeling off the layers. I'm used to seeing human flesh with its myriad of tones that my own translucent skin looks so different, almost exotic compared to others I've seen every day. I clench my small hands into fists. Yes, they appear fragile, but there is muscle and strength there; I just have to remind myself.
My thoughts drift back to Shepard's face. His skin appeared rougher than mine. The feeling of his hand against mine, without the barrier of my suit, would have been pleasant. I close my eyes and let the fingers of one hand graze the top of the other. What if it had been his hand creating this sensation, would it feel the same? I can only ever imagine. In a heartbeat, I feel envious of all those who had touched him, skin on skin.
More seals await release, and I return my attention to them, trying to push away all thoughts of Shepard and the attack on the Normandy. I need to focus. I peel each layer away and only stop when I reach the scar on my arm. Some would think me strange that I find something that never healed so beautiful, but its soft and uneven undulations fascinate me. I trace my finger around the edge marking the entry of the bullet wound. I recall the gunshot, and even though the scar doesn't hurt anymore, I retain the memory of the searing pain I endured. I close my eyes and a small moan escapes my lips.
The palm of my hand replaces the fingers as I massage my arm, kneading away the illusory discomfort. When I move to my legs, I release the outer layers from my shins and feet, discarding them to one side. I feel relief from the mild ache created by the suit's tight restraints. I pull the material from my calves and my feet, it catches briefly on my third toe. My other toes curl in response to the cool air of the clean room. I stretch each leg out, feeling the muscles pull against each other. Again I am amazed at the colour of my skin, so different from human, asari, and turian. The toenails are small, their growth inhibited as a byproduct of my suits environment. I bend down to work the soft pads of my soles, the motion creating a heat that travels up my legs.
I remove the rest of my suit until I am wearing naught but undergarments and my head covering. As I stand in front of the mirror I release the seals of my mask to free my head. My face... I feel shock at the sight, my features more delicate, more feminine, than I remember. I run my fingers under my eyes, the skin smooth to the touch. My eyes are a silvery glow, my lips plump and full. My tongue snakes out, the light fork of the tip graces my bottom lip, a feeling I'm used to but a sight I cannot even remember seeing before.
I pick up the segments of my suit from the floor, parts of it are still warm to the touch. I place it in the quarantine chute and press the button for it to release.
A shiver runs down my spine as I turn back to the full length mirror. I run my hands over the stubble on my head, the hair's growth also suppressed by the confines of my suit.
Finally, I remove all my remnant clothing, and place in the chute. My underwear, formfitting and tight, seems redundant underneath the mass of tubes and connectors. Why we persist with such under garments I am not sure why, perhaps doing this connects us to the normality of living outside. Maybe a throwback to the days when we stood under a sky wearing normal clothes.
My naked body stares hard back at me. I look so alien; I hardly believe that it's me. My breasts, free of the confines of the suit and bra, jiggle slightly, the nipples now erect from the slight chill that I feel. I laugh and remember Shepard telling me of his favourite old movie, one set in another galaxy. I think it had a princess in it, her outfit he described as long and white and serenely elegant. He told me that they had taped the actor's breasts down firmly, a wide and cheeky smile coming to his face.
"There isn't supposed to be a wiggle like that in outer space," he laughs a hearty laugh as he tells me, unaware of the blush coming to my cheeks.
I feel a slight heat in my loins at this memory and I glance towards my sex. Again the growth of hair I can see has been suppressed by the confines of my suit. I shake my head.
"No..."
This suit replenishes me.
My soft tissue, my organs, my skin.
It is my exoskeleton.
I head towards the bathroom, acutely aware of how bare I actually am. The nakedness feels strange, and there is something what might be akin to a breeze against my skin, sending my nerve endings twitching.
When I turn the shower on and place my unmarred arm underneath, the heat of the water running over my skin feels so strange a sensation. The jets are like needles and I shake as I put my whole body under the shower nozzle.
It is too much for me, the feeling is harsh. The months and years that my skin has spent hidden from the outside makes it sensitive to even the lightest of touches. I quickly wash myself and step out of the cubicle, eager to remove myself from the intense sensation. I dry myself and then move naked back into the main part of the room.
Once again I find myself in front of the mirror. I take a much longer look now. I see the way I move and realize it's me. I wave my hands in front of my face before a giggle escapes my lips. I run my hands over my body. My arms, my shoulders, my face. When I touch my cheek, thoughts of Shepard resurface. His arms, his shoulders, his face.
I close my eyes and remember his voice, deep and resonant; the memory vibrates against me as if it were real. If only he had known how I felt. It's not some girlish crush; those had been fleeting, transient thoughts of my youth, I know, I feel it is... it was... so much more.
My hands creep across my stomach and I move one up to cup my breast. I make soft swirling motions as I go. The sensation this time is different, it tingles and a jolt heads down and inwards. I gasp and open my eyes quickly. That felt… like nothing I have ever felt before.
A flush comes to my cheeks and I grab the light gown to cover me and the data pad from the table and move to the bed sitting with my back leaning against the small headboard. I begin to scroll through the data I brought back with me. I need to go over some fine details, just one last time. However, as I do, I realise I'm not taking anything in, my thoughts and feelings are tuned to something completely different. A need I feel burning inside me surfaces. Curiosity awoken, I put the data pad aside and undo the ties of my gown, throwing it to one side.
I move to a semi prostrate position, my head comfortably placed. I close my eyes, my thoughts running immediately to my former commander.
My hands cup my breasts and I slowly move them in delicate circles, the pressure light before I begin tweaking and teasing the nipples. I take a deep breath as my hands, move down to my stomach, the muscles spasm as I slide them around. One hand creeps lower, thoughts of Shepard invading my mind, his naked form as I can only imagine, his arms and legs, his chest, muscles flexing underneath form fitting armour, his rumbling laugh reverberating through me. My only knowledge of the naked human male form is from extranet data, and an all too brief moment of catching Shepard removing and adjusting his armour, the shirt underneath revealing his battle sculpted torso. But I need only his smiling face to feel arousal, his deep but gentle voice, his touch through my suit.
From across the room I see his partially clad form leaning against the locker. I stop in my tracks, and look intently at the human before me. He doesn't notice. The muscles of his back are distinct, his shoulders broad, his skin smooth. I am transfixed. I imagine my hand running down from the back of his neck, across his shoulder blade and snaking around to the front of his torso. He turns but fails to see me. His chest shows a small patch of hair at the front, I can't stop staring at it. His voice breaks my thoughts.
"Tali?"
I'm startled and let go an involuntary squeak. "I… I… I'm sorry Commander I… I thought…I'll come back later."
I see a smirk come to his face as I turn to walk… to run away… The heat on my cheeks flares as I make my retreat.
I spread my legs and run my hands up and down my inner thighs, then to my outer thighs and the sides of my behind. The female quarian bottom apparently appeals to many human males, so I've been told. All I know is that mine is firm, and from what I see in the mirror, generous. I heard Joker once remark, thinking I was out of earshot, that my behind was 'charitable'. As I turned towards them I could see Shepard scold him, but not before a knowing smirk passes between the pair. A smile comes to my face as I remember more than once catching Shepard staring at me, his attentions to my rear only caught in a reflection; this thought only increases my arousal further as I continue my self-caresses. The thought that he could want me, Tali'Zorah nar… Tali'Zorah vas Neema, I feel a twinge, and I move my hands higher so that my fingers now dance around my entrance. With these thoughts running through my mind, the soft folds of my opening have never been touched quite like this. The sensation stirs feelings more than physical in me. I sigh, deep and longing.
My fingers part the soft skin of my vulva, before I softly squeeze my labia together, putting gentle pressure on my clitoris. I arch my back and lift my head from the pillow involuntarily. The intensity… unexpected. This is the first time I have ever had any real stimulation and I feel giddy. I wriggle in pleasure, the sheer joy to be out of my suit almost too much.
I move my left hand to focus on my clitoris, the fingers making delicate circles, my right hand rubs my inner thigh before moving to my opening. The fluid emanating from me I use as lubricant to gently stroke the length of my lips. I tease myself, continuing the stroking pattern with one hand, circling with the other. I imagine rough hands against me, teasing me, pleasuring me, hands of another. I release a soft small moan as I allow one finger to delve deeper into me; it's tight, but feels pleasurable enough for me to continue.
I roll over onto my stomach with my finger still inside, the fingers of the other hand continuing the clitoral massage. My right finger goes further inside me and I gently tease it in and out, turning circles inside myself, stroking all the walls. My innards feel soft and yielding, warm to the touch. I find pressing down, particularly on my front wall, very stimulating, and I moan louder with each stroke of my finger. My bottom moves up and down with my fingers movements, and my mind is clouded with my own desires and thoughts of Shepard, only Shepard. I imagine his voice whispering to me, telling me how soft I am, how wet, how hot, how it feels like velvet to him. I almost feel a kiss on my lips as he speaks, the only one I've ever really...
"Oh, Keelah!"
The weight of my body pushes the finger in deeper, my left hand still flicking my clitoris. I want this feeling to last... I flex my feet, my toes cramping up as the pleasure washes over me. I bite on the pillow and squeal as I feel my inner muscles clamp around me. It lasts for some time, the feeling... exquisite.
I roll back over, my legs pressed together tightly, sticky and wet, they make small scissoring movements as I try to milk my delight for all it is worth. I move my hands back to my stomach, the sensations slowly leave.
This suit nourishes me.
My hunger, my thirst, my needs satisfied.
It is my exoskeleton.
I blink several times before I realise I am crying, a melancholy erodes all previous sensations and a numbness takes over.
I've heard, primarily from listening to the human crew of the Normandy, that sometimes after orgasm you can have La petite mort, or the little death. Perhaps that's what this feeling is. I am breathless and spent, my hands are shaking. Maybe it's the realisation that even here, on a ship full of quarians, my people, I feel more alone now than I ever did on my pilgrimage.
"Shepard…," my voice is a whisper, barely audible beyond the background hum of the ship.
He's gone. And I am here, imagining he's still around. All I can think is what an indulgent fool I've been. A great pall of weariness envelopes me and my eyes start to close, I fall asleep naked, his name emanating silently from my lips as I fall into a dreamless sleep.
When I wake, I pick up my omni-tool and I realise that almost 13 hours have passed, my need for sleep obviously overpowering me enough to double my usual sleep time. I hadn't been weary when I arrived here, or so I thought. Maybe thinking of... no, not that, I must have needed the sleep. Or the anticipation of joining back with the fleet, enough that I was so hyperactive that I came crashing down in a heap. There is still much to prepare. I'm sure the Captain expects that much. I fiddle with my hands nervously. This ship, my people, need me at my best. I shake my head and mutter, "Tali what were you thinking, sleeping so long?"
I head for the shower cubicle again, washing myself briefly, this time I feel a little less sensitive when the water hits my flesh. The hair on my head is now stubble, I run my hands over it again, astounded how little time it's taken for it to grow. I stand and gaze at the floor as the water coats me. The sensations of last night's exploration still linger, and I imagine Shepard is still here, with me, his naked form encircling my own.
"Tali, everything will be okay, it's okay…" he says, his tone gentle and soothing.
Except it's not him. It's me, mumbling through the water dripping into my mouth. The water hides my tears. I crumble to the bathroom floor and sit there, huddling my knees towards me, my head down and rocking back and forth. Shepard is gone, there was nothing I could do but be bustled into an escape pod... but still, if only I had been there, on the bridge, who knows, I may have... I look at my skin, now not only translucent but somewhat shrivelled. I ball my hand into a fist and pound rhythmically on the wall with the fall of the water, it fails to pacify me.
"Shepard…," remnants of water fall from my open mouth as I place my head on my knees. This is the second time I have uttered his name in a state of despair.
The trance I have created for myself lasts for sometime. How long? I don't know. But a calm is slowly restored, I rise to turn of the tap dry myself off, put the robe back on and return to the main room. Still somewhat dazed, only a light flutter from my stomach indicates I need nourishment. A number of hours are still to pass till I leave this room. What started out as a feeling of freedom from the confines of my suit, now feels like a prison, stark, bleak and sterile. I feel colder than I ever have before.
My mind goes back to my work, I try to remove all previous thoughts, but they linger and all I can do is push them to one side. There are things to be done, and I need to be practical, but the emptiness I feel inside persists. That… that life is over now, I am here with my people. I shake my head as I go over the information on my data pad. I immerse myself totally in my work, for now it occupies a welcome distraction from other thoughts.
I work until I'm interrupted by a voice.
"Tali 'Zorah, your suit is ready, please find it in the chute ready for your inspection."
I drop the datapad immediately and go to the chute. The suit with its thick material feels lighter than I remember. I remove the robe and begin to place the form fitting material back on to my body. After being so free in this room, the pleasure I felt at my own touch, for some reason I'm now keen to put it back on.
I spend some time going over the changes to my reinvigorated suit. The advances in technology I find impressive. My omnitool refines the parameters I need. Each new flick of a switch of offering a new and improved environment. I wonder what the new nerve stimulator's will do as I briefly switch each one on and off. "Plenty of time to find out later." I mutter, before seating myself back on the bed.
With my helmet and faceplate still off, I spend the last few hours housed in my suit reading. A holo novel in my now gloved hands. As I reach the middle chapters the last thing spoken between Shepard and I re-emerge.
"Tali, I want you to have this." A smile, that smile, appears on his face.
I look down at a what appears to be shredded paper bundled together roughly. I take it from his outstretched hands
"What's this, Shepard?" I ask quizzically.
"A damn good read. I want you to have it." The smile on his face grows wider. "If you like it you can read it over and over, hey even take it into a clean room with you!"
I thumb through its contents realising the book is not in the cleanest of states.
"Are you trying to kill me?" I try hard to keep the mischievous tone out of my voice.
"What? Oh no. I mean... no I just... oh, that was a bit insensitive of me." He replaces his smile with frown and scratches his head in embarrassment.
I can't help but continue the tease, "Really, Shepard, you think that in the time I'd spent here you might have at least to gotten to know the quarian people better..."
"Oh, Tali, I'm sor-..." He stops short, realising my ruse and narrows his eyes, "Tali 'Zorah nar Rayya, are you teasing me?"
He can't see the smirk I have beneath my face plate but an open laugh gives me away. "You should have seen the look on your face, Shepard. I'll read it, just not in a clean room." I look down at the books dishevelled pages.
"Yes, best not." The smile returns.
"What's it about anyway?"
"A human scientist back in the 20th century tries to bring back long extinct life from millennia ago; damn good read."
"Yes, you said that, and by the looks of it, you've read it over and over, is this your personal copy, Shepard?"
"Yes, I've had it for a long time; it's been a good comfort read for me." An earnest look crosses his face.
"Oh... then surely, no, I can't really..." I say shaking my head and hold the book back towards him.
"Yes you can, don't make me order you to take it." He pushes my hand away.
"Shepard I..."
"Yes Tali?" He tilts his head to one side, his eyes bore into me even though I know he can't see my face clearly.
"I... I..., thank you, its a very kind and thoughtful gift."
I look down at the data pad in my hand, Shepard had said a holo novel is no replacement for a well thumbed paper one, but the novel is gone, burned up with the Normandy. Burned up with... him.
This time as the tears fall, it's anger I feel. Here, now, I would give anything to hold that scruffy, crumpled collection of paper in my hand. I throw the datapad across the room. When it hits the wall it makes a loud crack before landing on the ground.
Another voice interrupts, "Tali 'Zorah, you may leave the clean room."
I quickly stand and as I refasten the remaining clasps on my body, the process of shrouding myself once more suddenly possesses my thoughts. I can't seal it quick enough. The freedom I've had over the last 24 hours has given me an experience I know I will not have for a long time to come.
The last thing to go on is my helmet, as I look in the mirror once more. I wipe away the remnants of my emotional state, a determined look comes to my features. This will be the last time I see this reflection for a while. I have no wish for that view to be one of despondency or anger. As the helmet descends, all my thoughts not preoccupied with my task, turn to Shepard. A love not requited as far as I know; but no matter, he's gone now. I know it, even though no body has been recovered. I can dream of what was, of what might have been. Memories of him will fade, but will never be forgotten.
My eyes are still slightly glossy with tears of leaving all behind, but I am resolved to be all I can be for my people. I hear the suction of my last remaining seal.
"I'm ready to leave," I say, no hint of underlying sadness in my voice.
I step into the antechamber.
This suit hides me from the universe.
My happiness, my anger, my sorrow.
It is my exoskeleton.