Shepard cinched the riot armor breastplate snugly against the Cerberus uniform, pulling the straps tight but not so much that they restricted movement or breathing. He stood up from the cargo crate he had been sitting on, and rotated his torso back and forth, hands on his hips. The armor creaked and he felt it pull on his shoulders slightly, but considering it was a one-size-fits-all design it was acceptable. He moved his arms around, bending at the elbow and testing the range of movement back to front. Fine.
"I'll tell you what I'd like to know right now," he said as he sat back down, looking meaningfully at Miranda, "Why do I keep getting these headaches?"
"Well, I have some ideas..."
He sat back on the crate and rested his elbows on his knees, settling his chin on his hands. "Do tell."
Miranda was working through her own armor fitment as she answered: pacing, crouching and standing. "Your eyes are cybernetic."
Not surprising the originals wouldn't make it. "So?"
"To get the necessary power, we had two choices. We could use an electrical source, which would require external power cells somewhere. They could run down or be damaged. The weight for redundancy seemed prohibitive." She removed her helmet after trying to adjust the way it sat on her head, looked at it distastefully.
"The other choice, then. Was it chemical?"
"Something like that. It's you." The corner of her mouth turned up as she put the blue helmet back on. "We're using the same processes your body uses to power itself. Basically, as long as you are functioning biologically, your eyes also will continue to function. We remove one single point of failure, power cells, and replace it with another - your life."
"Fascinating." he said dryly, "But what does that have to do with passing out at inopportune moments?"
She gave him a disappointed look. "You should be able to deduce that, commander. Parasitic power drain."
Shepard waited.
"Look, it's like this," Miranda sighed, "we established a baseline for power draw based on your biological activity profile. But this was done while you were in the tank." She raised her eyebrows to question his understanding.
He nodded.
"Ok. Right now, you're not in the tank. You're doing a great deal more than I would have recommended at this early stage. Your body is still acclimating to all these changes. Frankly, I'm surprised there haven't been more problems." She slipped her feet into rugged looking armor that went over her boots. "The cybernetic equipment is also adjusting, but it appears the eyes are more problematic."
"But I've been running around since I woke up, with that attack on the station. I didn't experience any problems until we arrived here."
"When you passed out the first time, in front of the pod. What happened?" she asked curiously. He wondered how directly he should answer.
"I was...reminded of past events. And opening the door, I guess, but I wasn't using any tech at the time."
Miranda chewed her lower lip as she nodded. "Memories. I was concerned something like this might happen." She sat on a crate across from him. "The best way to describe the condition of the contents of your skull when recovered would be as intact but in 'deep freeze,' we were lucky there considering the condition of the skull itself." she said as she leaned back against the wall. "In order to defrost the soft tissue without causing significant neural damage, we needed to use some chemical processes and techniques that are, to put it mildly, somewhat experimental."
He felt his stomach lurch. "You mean to say I've got brain damage?"
"Not exactly." She smiled gently. "We were able to avoid any permanent damage or scarring, but there was a...how do I describe this. Think of it this way. Some of your deeper, more entrenched memories...with those, there was a sort of...crystallization of the synapses that occurred."
He motioned for her to continue.
"Well, when you hit upon these buried memories, your mind is working at a fever pitch to break down the barriers. I think that is causing your eyes to lose power. When they try to compensate, it competes with your brain for resources. And you get headaches, or pass out."
"That's it?"
Miranda nodded. "That's it."
Shepard grimaced. Maybe power cells would have been better. "Good enough. Is the effect permanent?" He stood and began rummaging through a pile of armor to find protection for his lower legs.
"Your eyes and brain will adapt and work better together eventually. We also expect the 'crystallization' to diminish over time. You have to remember, you've been very active for someone who was within a micron of being completely dead not too long ago." She reached into a box next to the crate and jabbed Shepard in the shoulder with a hypo that she removed from it.
"Ow! Would you please stop doing that?" he exclaimed, rubbing the shoulder and looking back at her with some annoyance.
"That should ease the effects for a few hours. You might notice your pulse being elevated a bit."
"Thanks," he muttered, returning to the search for armor. "I hope you didn't get the last set. I like my shins."
"Quarian armor might fit for that," Tali suggested, entering the room with Jacob following her. "It will probably go over your knees, though."
"There's more of the security forces' gear out on the walkway, commander." Jacob laughed. "I think we can avoid the mix and match."
Shepard smiled. More reasons for that than the armor. "Good, good. Any luck on armament?"
Jacob reached behind his back and removed a shotgun from the webbing. "Just this. The rest is small arms, pistols of varying caliber. The search team has the rest of the weapons. The two guards had this and an electrical stun device." He rotated his left arm and massaged the shoulder. "It didn't have much of a punch."
He nodded thoughtfully as he sat back down. Both the firepower and protection they had available were sorely lacking in comparison to the quarian squad. It should hold up fairly well against the mechs though, assuming they were civilian models. The best plan of action was probably to simply avoid the marines and extract Veetor while avoiding confrontation. He looked up as Tali stepped forward.
"Shepard, I've explained the situation to the guards. They aren't happy about being beaten by two unarmed prisoners," she laughed, "but they seem to be willing to work with us to find Veetor. They weren't comfortable with the way Prazza had taken command."
"I see. You had some concerns about Prazza's intentions as well, earlier. Do we have time for you to fill me in?"
"Well..." she shifted her stance from side to side, and inclined her head pointedly towards Miranda and Jacob.
"Ah...commander, Miranda and I will see if we can't make nice with the guards, maybe get some more information on the quarian team." Jacob said, grabbing Miranda by the arm and heading for the door.
"W-wait, Jacob...commander!"
"Come on!" Shepard heard Jacob say in exasperation as the door closed, leaving Tali alone with him. He looked up at Tali pleasantly from the crate.
"Miranda is probably just a little overprotective. You aren't going to try to kill me again, are you?"
"Probably not," she teased slyly. She crossed her arms. "Am I in any danger?"
"Not from me." He made a show of inspecting his armor. "Not in this surplus junk. But what is the problem with you and Cerberus?"
Tali tossed her head. "Do you mean when they attacked a ship in the flotilla, or just the part where they are a racist alien-hating terrorist organization?"
"Um."
"Shepard, why are you working for Cerberus?" she asked, beginning to pace again. "Before, you were fighting them. Now you've joined them? How could you do that?" She opened her arms pleadingly.
"I'm not working for them, Tali. Not in the way you think anyway. Human colonies on the frontier of the Terminus systems have been going dark. The Alliance, the Council, they won't commit any resources to investigate it. Cerberus is the only organization willing to do something." He rubbed at the scar on his jaw. "They brought me back. This colony...I can at least give them that. I owe them at least that much."
"You owe them nothing!" Tali huffed, making a throwaway motion with her arm. She seemed to calm down though, and stopped pacing. "Still, it is...disturbing. This colony being so empty, with no signs of a struggle. And why only Veetor left?"
Shepard nodded, leaning forward. "That's what I'd like to know. That's why I think it's a good idea to work together on this. Miranda and Jacob seem like decent people so far, Tali."
She crossed her arms again, angled her head slightly. "I know. I had some time to talk with Jacob while we were scouting for more weapons and armor. But I still don't trust them."
"Then we're pretty much of the same mind about that. I don't trust Cerberus, Tali. But I won't turn down their support investigating these disappearances. The second they stop being useful in that regard, or if they turn this mission in the wrong direction...that'll be the end of it."
Tali met his gaze. He could sense the frustration and the battle going on in her mind. Whether to believe her old commander, her old friend; or to believe he had become a servant of Cerberus. An enemy. Several silent seconds passed, and he began to doubt whether his first impulse - that she would trust him - was correct. But behind the visor, Tali's shimmering eyes suddenly lowered. She sighed deeply, and when she lifted her gaze again it was warmer.
"I believe you, Shepard. I will work with you - you, Shepard, not Cerberus - to find Veetor. Maybe he will even have information on what happened here. I'm...sorry for doubting you."
He was taken aback. "Don't be. I would be disappointed if you had simply accepted that me working with Cerberus was not a problem." He leaned back against the wall again. "Now, what can you tell me about Prazza's motives?"
She turned away from him. "It's...it's personal. I'm a little embarrassed."
"We don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable."
"No." She walked to the crate, and sat down gracefully beside him. "I can talk about it." She turned to face him. He felt he could be lost in her eyes if he looked on them for too long. It was like looking at the pale moons that had been in the colony's night sky, shining softly in violet twilight.
He shook himself internally. Where was that coming from? He forced himself out of the trance-like state to focus on Tali's words.
"When you...when I thought you were dead, I was very upset." She paused. Shepard felt that she was leaving something out, but she continued quickly. "Prazza was there for me. At least...I thought he was," she said bitterly, "I don't think he ever cared for me, not really. There was physical desire..." her voice trailed off, and she wouldn't look at him. He didn't know what to say as the silence grew. But he felt she needed to tell the story, wanted desperately to tell someone.
"Tali...it's ok." He took her hand. Her fingers immediately closed around his own, almost painfully. "Please, continue."
She nodded, but kept her gaze averted. "We...I couldn't. He said it didn't matter. He was always there, but after a while he didn't even pretend to be interested in me. He was just...always there." She sighed. "I should have noticed before, but...I wasn't thinking clearly."
Shepard thought he was beginning to understand. "People saw you together."
Her grip tightened in anger. "Yes. People started talking, seeing something that wasn't there. They took it as a sign of favor with my father and I found him on missions with me constantly. He was on the fast track to becoming a ship's captain, groomed for leadership. Married to an admiral's daughter." She lowered her head further. "I didn't see it. Not for a long time."
He had thought he had reason to dislike Prazza before. Before he could let that feeling spiral out of control, Tali looked up at him again.
"Now with Cerberus in the picture, he has the perfect opportunity. He knows I would never be with him but he can use me as a stepping stone. If he removes me from command, implicates me as a Cerberus sympathizer," there was ice in her tone, "He would just cast it as my putting you above the safety of the fleet if that failed. And he would 'rescue' Veetor from the clutches of the terrorists and abandonment on a deserted colony world." The pale moonlight had been replaced with iron resolve. "That's why we need to get to him first. He would use Veetor to advance his own selfish interests."
Shepard nodded. "I get it. I don't think Prazza would allow us to leave here with any information regarding what happened either. I knew you, or he thought you knew me, and he made arrangements to have me killed. Miranda and Jacob would make good prisoners to take back to the fleet, given what you've said about Cerberus." He smiled at her. "We won't let that happen. Prazza won't get his way."
"Thank you, Shepard," she said gratefully, looking at him with relief. "This means a lot. I can't imagine him in command of a ship."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm doing this for you, not for the fleet."
"An eye for an eye, Shepard?" Tali teased.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
As she stood, he could sense a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. How long had she been carrying that burden alone? He was humbled that she had chosen to trust him with her secret. It was hard to fathom the reserves of willpower in this woman. She was strong. He had known that from their first encounter on the Citadel. But he was beginning to perceive the true depth of her strength, her character. So much about Tali was entrancing. The way her emotions could show clearly from behind the visor. Her expressiveness when she talked about anything that interested her, how she couldn't be still. The way she gestured with her hands so animatedly, inclined her head, paced around the room. The way she moved when she walked. Good grief, the way she walked...
"Commander Shepard." She looked at him reprovingly.
Ah. He had been caught staring.
"I uh...it's just that you look..." Amazing. Gorgeous. Radiant. "...different."
Nice. Really great, Shepard.
"Oh..." she glanced self consciously down at herself, raising her arms. "You mean the suit?"
"Oh, yes. I mean...what happened to the old one? You outgrew it?" He coughed. Idiot.
"Not exactly. It's my father's fault. Since he doesn't usually have much time for me," she glanced at the floor briefly, "he buys me things. The suits we wear are very complex, since we literally live inside them. They cost a great deal to replace. Many of my people wear at most two suits their entire lives - one when we reach adolescence, and one when we have grown into adults." She tugged at the fabric surrounding her helmet. "Most of this suit is recycled from an old one, but it has been heavily modified with many new parts."
"Two suits? You must grow really attached to them, being in them for so long."
Tali shrugged, and Shepard thought he detected a flicker of sadness. What was that about? He kept getting a sense that something had been eating at Tali ever since he had seen her again. Something even deeper than the problems with Prazza?
"Some spend a great deal of time personalizing them." she said softly. "You don't often see anything too garish or permanent since suits are usually handed down, mostly just changing the colors, adding fabric flourishes like around my helmet." She touched the hood lightly. "Many marines will record their unit designations on their suits. There are a few that have so many that they have started using the backs as well, especially the ones inherited in military families." She laughed. The sadness had gone, or at least retreated from the surface. He smiled back at her and stood.
"Well, I think it looks wonderful on you."
Tali looked surprised at the compliment, and her eyes seemed to sparkle. "Th-thank you, Shepard. I'm glad you like it." She tilted her helmet thoughtfully. "Talking of marine suits reminds me, Giravi wanted to see you before we head out."
Shepard looked confused. "Giravi? That wouldn't be Veetor's..."
"Yes. He's still somewhat ill or he would join us. I feel terrible...but he really would have killed you, Shepard." Tali wrung her hands together.
"Well, I appreciate your caution. I'm sure he would have understood why you did what you did."
"I told him."
Of course she did. "I see. He's not...still angry is he? I mean, he knows I didn't kidnap his son."
"Yes. I explained to him about Prazza. Not," she interjected, seeing the crestfallen look on Shepard's face, "in nearly the same detail as I gave you. Just my suspicions about his plans on Freedom's Progress."
He nodded. "Alright. I'm ready when you are." He gestured for her to proceed in front of him. With some ulterior motives.
As they walked from the room and across the walkway, Shepard picked up a set of lower leg armor - green, did they even try to buy anything the same color? - and tucked it under his arm. He realized that it was going to be quite a bit more miserable outside without the self-regulating armor that was now hidden away in the quarian shuttle. The sun had risen, but the sky was dull and colorless, and snow fell thinly through the still, frigid air. Tali looked over her shoulder as they approached another pod.
"Tread lightly, Shepard. Giravi and Veetor share many traits. He is often...strange. You should probably know he doesn't have a ship name."
He chewed on the thought a moment. "How does that work?"
Tali paused outside the door, and turned to face him. Snowflakes lit on the cloth surrounding her helmet, others melted quickly away on her visor without a trace. Must be some kind of self-cleaning technology.
"You know we go on pilgrimage as young adults."
He nodded.
"Sometimes, they don't come back. Giravi is one such. He arrived at the fleet again five years ago, not with a gift to sign on with a ship's crew, but with an adolescent boy, nearly full grown - Veetor." She brushed some of the accumulated snow off of her cowl before continuing. "Nobody knows how he came to have the boy. Whether he fathered him, found him, kidnapped him. He calls him his son, but the doctors fitting him with a new suit say they look nothing alike." She crossed her arms beneath her chest and leaned back against the rail. "It's rumored he made his living as a mercenary or pirate, and the boy was the son of someone that he had killed. He took him and raised him. That's the story, anyway."
Shepard was shivering now, but wanted to hear the rest. "So what is he doing here?"
"The boy needed a new suit. That's why he finally sought the fleet. Giravi had patched it many times, but he had still outgrown it. He was probably days or weeks from a total suit failure." She shook her head sadly. "Very little of it could be recycled or passed on. Giravi had to assume the debt for a complete replacement suit. He is with the fleet expeditionary marines to work off that debt."
Shepard gaped at her in disbelief. "But five years ago?"
Tali nodded. "I told you that they were very expensive to replace, Shepard. The damage to the suit is probably a large part of the reason Veetor is so...unusual. He probably spent most of the last months before Giravi brought him back very ill."
"That's terrible." He had never really stopped to consider how vulnerable quarians were outside of their protective suits.
"It is. But Shepard, Giravi...doesn't seem like a bad man. I think whatever happened when he found Veetor changed him. He has always volunteered for the most dangerous missions, been at the forefront of any push. It's almost like he wants to trade his life for Veetor's."
Shepard shuddered suddenly, not just from the cold, as the words crumbled walls around his memories. Despite the hypo administered by Miranda, he fell towards the door. The onslaught of emotion was unbearable, a tidal wave that swept his awareness away from Freedom's Progress into a shattered bunker holding a dear friend's body in his arms. Past helpless colonists impaled on vicious spikes. Staring out a window on a shuttlecraft, burning a nuclear fireball on Virmire into his retinas. Running past the dead woman and her child in the assault on the Citadel. Gasping for air as he watched the Normandy in its death throes, so many escape pods still in their cradles. Always alone. He couldn't save them all. He was powerless to save them. The memories pulled him inexorably downward.
Come back.
Somewhere, swirling in the blackness, he sensed someone calling to him from even farther behind the walls in his mind. Pushing at the edges of his consciousness.
You did what you could. Nobody could have done more. Nobody else could have saved them. You did. Stop blaming yourself. Stop punishing yourself. You are a good man. I would be proud to call you Captain. You saved billions. Thank you, Shepard. Thank you.
He opened his eyes. Among the swirling flakes of snow, framed by the dead gray sky, was something of such exquisite beauty it took his breath away.
"Tali'Zorah," he whispered to the pale shimmering eyes that looked at him with concern from behind the gleaming violet visor.
"Shepard?" she said urgently, "What happened? Are you alright? You passed out again." She cradled his head in her hands and looked down at him.
He could only stare for a time. Groaning inwardly with regret, he reached up and gently disengaged Tali's hands, sat up, and came unsteadily to his feet. He dusted the snow off his armor and the exposed parts of his uniform. Turning around, he spotted the armor pieces he had been carrying, dusted the snow off of them as well and picked them up. He felt he had probably regained enough of his composure. He turned to Tali. She was on her feet again and peering at him curiously.
"It's something to do with the cybernetic implants." He pointed at his eyes with two fingers. "Parasitic power drain, Miranda called it." He paused. "I'd like to explain it to you sometime. All of it." He was surprised to find out that he meant it.
Tali looked confused. "Well, if you think I can help, of course I would be happy to listen."
You can.
"Let's talk to Giravi. I'm looking forward to meeting him, actually."
