Bioware owns the characters and everything else you can find in the Mass Effect Wiki. Calinstel owns 99.5% of the ideas behind the Quarians that I'm using. The rest is mine.
Chapter 4: My Name Is Commander Shepard
January 18th, 2183, 11:01:07
The four Quarian marines, one male, three female, all suited in red, sat together at the small table enjoying the little free time they had before their departure. The male leaned in his chair, rocking it slightly back and forth with only its rear legs making contact with the sticky floor. All four were involved in an animated discussion over drinks, concerning the recent spate of intense training working its way through the various Migrant Fleet units.
"Well, wherever they send us," stated the male with finality and over the din of the bar scene, "It'll be interesting."
"I agree," replied the female to his immediate left, her voice soft and tone morose. The male brought his chair back down and angled his audio pickup closer to her in an attempt to hear over the many fellow marines around them.
Catching his action, she leaned further into him and continued, "I said 'I think you are correct.' I do not think orbital insertions are standard fare for mere pirates." One of her elbows rested on the table, her fist propping up her chin. Behind her jade visor, glowing eyes scanned the male from top to bottom, resting on the drink he held. "Shall I request another beverage for you?"
"Let me get it! I was getting up anyway. Dextro-Salarian Sunset, right?" Interrupted the female sitting to the male's right, eyes alight behind an equally bright pink visor.
"Turian whiskey, straight up," mumbled the female with the jade visor, too low for anyone to hear.
"Turian whiskey! Straight up!" called the male to the pink visored Quarian's back as she reached the bar.
"Of course!" she acknowledged him with a wave. The Quarian with the jade visor almost imperceptibly shook her head as she lowered it, along with her gaze, onto her next tube of Asari-made dextro ale.
"So... Seera, you really kicked quad out there," the male started, addressing the woman contemplating her drink to his left, "Just like that time things went sideways on Talis Fia."
"Well, I certainly don't think I did anything spe-"
"Oh, you kicked quad also, Neyha," the female with the deep red visor sitting to Seera's left addressed the male, her hand now reaching across for the man's, "You kicked a lot of quad."
"Thanks, Heret, you weren't too bad yourself..." The male noticed her hand snaking its way for the one he had resting on the table at about the same time he glimpsed the pink visored young Quarian returning with his drink. Deciding to kill two avians with a single stone, he grabbed his empty tube with his imperiled hand and preferred it to the eager marine. "Reyno, thank you so much," he said louder than necessary.
She took the empty tube and traded it for the full one. The male deftly placed it on the table and dropped his hand onto his lap, fingers intertwining with its opposite. Reyno swayed her hips a bit as she walked the refuse back to the bar. She glanced behind her toward the male before dropping the tube in the trash container; seeing that the eye contact was not returned, she rejoined the others at the table.
The male eyed the new tube and discreetly shook it to confirm that is was, in fact, laden with ice, "Just the way I like it," he thanked her before inserting it in his helmet's slot. So much space for whiskey, wasted with ice, he thought to himself.
None of the friendly group noticed the human in full combat armor confidently striding towards them. Between the heavy thudding of combat boots on the ceramic floor and the band of bright red running down his right sleeve, he would have been hard to miss in an ordinary setting. But a loud and dingy bar catering to, and currently packed with, energetic Quarians was not an ordinary setting. His route to the table was now clear but he had spent the past five minutes making his way through dozens of inebriated marines from a species that considered personal space to be both much smaller and much more valuable. There was no shoving or nudging one's was through this group.
"So, you jarhead son-of-a bitch, here you are!" declared John to the male, "Kal'Reegar, I didn't know when I'd ever get to buy you that drink."
He offered his hand to the marine, and suddenly realized his mistake. About a year and a half ago, he learned two very important lessons about Quarians. Firstly, that when a race has a military as small as the Quarians do, it meant that that military had to be incredibly tough. Secondly, he learned that 'jarhead' did not mean the same thing to Quarians as it did to Humans. Presently he realized he forgot the second lesson.
Kal just leaned back in his seat, again balancing it on its back two legs, and rested his hands on the back of his helmet. Seera's demeanor brightened ever so slightly. The faintest hint of a smile evident in her eyes as they shined through he visor. She sipped her ale and, like Kal, prepared for the show to come. No one else in the bar noticed anything at all, save for Heret and Renyo. They had an entirely different reaction to the armored alien who stormed up to their squad leader and hurled racist insults at him.
In unison, the two women stood up with enough force to knock back their chairs. Renyo started towards Shepard. Not wanting her fleet sister take all the credit for kicking this Human Fre'eg's behind, Heret brought herself to within striking distance of the man.
John held up both hands and made gestures of mollification while giving a pleading stare to Kal and mouthing the word 'help.'
Just as Heret fiercely grabbed John with both hands, each gripping a section of chest plate between the shoulders and upper arms, Kal raised both his hands high into the air. "Ladies! Ladies. Please forgive this backwards-walking bosh'tet, his translator seems to be fre'eg'd up... Again," he stressed the last word, "You know Humans, never know how to fix anything."
"Well maybe he should use all that Human money he has and by himself a new one," retorted Heret sarcastically, her gaze narrowing on the newcomer.
"Well, John, you can certainly buy my drinks," Kal decided to change the subject, "but don't forget I owe you one too. Please pull up a chair," he nodded to one sitting unused at an adjacent table.
"I think I owe you one too," came a soft, sophisticated voice, "Or you owe me one. Either way, the three of us are all indebted to each other at this point."
"Seera!," John said with a broad grin as he recognized the woman across from him for the first time. "What in the galaxy are you doing still hanging around this guy?" indicating Kal with his thumb.
"I just don't know, John, but I suppose someone has to keep this uncouth Vorcha in check."
"Right! Manners. Thanks Seera," Kal briefly squeezed her shoulder in genuine gratitude. Kal didn't notice Seera's eyes close as she took in the sensations, cursing herself for not setting her suit's nerve-stim program to record. Nor did he notice the glares of jealousy from the other two females to John's right and left.
"This is Renyo'Intari vas Retala," Kal indicated the woman with the pink visor to John's left.
The young woman began furiously waving, "Any friend of Kal's is a friend of mine!"
"And this is Heret'Daran vas Vasa." Kal nodded to the woman to John's right.
"His Neyha. Nice to meet you," Heret offered a curt nod with arm crossed under her bust.
"Likewise," mumbled John.
"And of course you know Seera'Vael vas Idenna"
"Always a pleasure madam," John mocked her manner of speech and bowed his head.
"Of course it is for one such as yourself, darling," she offered her hand, palm down, "I wish I could say the same..."
As if following a script, John smiled and gently clasped the hand then followed by placing a soft slow kiss between the two knuckles. The women on each side of John were repulsed into submission by the act but Kal let out a hearty howl of laughter and firmly patted Seera on the back. Seera simply placed the hand over her mask's voice-light in mock chagrin.
"Ladies," Kal explained, "This Human is John Shepard. We three go all the way back to that training mission we did together. The one we mentioned earlier. Talis Fia. He earned the Heart of Kaeli'steiz medal with us."
The two women feigned interest and awe with the revelation and quickly turned back to Kal. When another war story wan not forthcoming, they idly sipped their drinks.
"So," Shepard decided to make some more light conversation before getting to the reason why he had tracked down his one-time brother-in-arms, "vas Vasa? Sounds a little alliterative for a Quarian vessel." Praise be to the pun-gods, John thought, I hope it translates.
"Ugh." It did. "So you know just enough about us to question us? Well, the Vasa is a fine and powerful ship. One of the newest and most advanced in the Fleet. She's very spacious too." This was a point of particular pride for the woman. "But sometimes we can't alter a ship's registry when we buy it or find it. It was only a year ago that we cracked her encryption code. It was military-grade. By then, no one wanted to change the name; we had all gotten used to it."
"Oh. So where did you get this ship? The name sounds vaguely familiar."
"It should. It was Human. She was scuttled in neutral space after taking serious damage from those Turian bastards over Shanxi," concluded Heret.
"The Quarians, um, cracked Alliance military encryptions?"
"Well-"
"So, John, what's brings you here?" Kal quickly interjected.
"Right. Can we talk in private?"
"Of course. Head's this way," Kal indicated the bathroom in the back-left corner of the bar. The three rivals remained at the table, each sizing the other up.
When they reached the bathroom, John hastened to explain. "There's a Quarian girl on pilgrimage here on the citadel who has sensitive intelligence. It's important to the Alliance, the Council, and some very bad people. We need to get her out of danger and get that data into safe hands."
"Ok, we can absolutely help, but we're not armed. Our ship is on lockdown, so changing that is out of the question for the time being. I think we'd only get in the way if we just blindly rush in there next to a bunch of armed humans."
"That's alright, buddy. We are more than prepared for this. I just need something I can use so that she doesn't shoot us thinking we're the bad guys. It should also be something so we know it's her. We Humans use a question and answer system. The rescuers poses a question that's unique to the one being rescued. The one being rescued gives their unique answer. It's all prearranged."
"I think I understand. We Quarians have something similar..." At this, John gave a sigh of relief. Kal was a little reticent, "It's a passphrase. I can get it for you. It's reserved for returning to the fleet after venturing out or for emergencies and I think this qualifies. She will have to make a new one after revealing it to Alliance personnel like this. No offense."
"None taken," John replied earnestly.
"So, what's her name?" Questioned Kal.
"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."
A look of shock crossed Kal's face and was made obvious by his body language. "My Dram'zelt din relai? Ancestors damn it, Shepard, if it was anyone else in the Galaxy telling me this, I'd knock them out, take their rifle and storm the place myself. You better get her back without a single scratch."
"Don't worry, she'll be fine," he genuinely hoped, "Is she your girlfriend? Uh, daughter? Hmm, how old are you, anyway?"
"Listen, you Usl'sa yze tabb, we don't have time for games. She's my sister. Not by blood, but as close to me as you are to yours. I transferred the phrase to your omni-tool. Memorize it. When you see her, read half to her and ask her for the other half. It should work. Now get the hell out of here."
"Thanks buddy," John turned to leave the bathroom.
"Oh, and Shepard," Kal said as John waved his had to slide the door open, "When she's safe, have her call me."
...
January 18th, 2183, 14:48:00
John stood in front of the formation. They had been training up to the very last minute. Everything had to be perfect. No casualties, everyone goes home. That was the idea anyway. John had returned hours ago with the last bit of information they needed. He had passed it on to Jane, Kaidan, and Ashley just in case anything should happen to him.
After a last minute accounting of all personnel, John finished simply, "Show time, people. Let's make it happen."
...
January 18th, 2183, 15:07:46
The first part of the ground team was in position outside the front door of Chora's Den, Fredericks at the front. He wouldn't be entering first, only placing and detonating the breaching charge. If all went well, he wouldn't be entering at all. He secured the charge to the door and gave a thumbs up. Behind him was Jane, who would actually be the first into the room. John made her swear up and down that she wouldn't go all vanguard on him and charge headlong into biotic-fueled close combat. Fratricide would be a serious enough risk in a circular room without her being danger-close to half the enemies. She gave a thumbs up. John, behind her, gave a thumbs up. Just as close behind him was Garrus and he continued the gesture. Then Wrex did the same, followed by Kaidan then Ashley. When everyone down the stack made a thumbs up, the last person in line squeezed the shoulder of the person in front of him. Each team member squeezed the shoulder of the person in front of them in turn, until the motion traveled up the line to the very front.
The instant Fredericks felt the ship's XO squeeze his shoulder he closed his eyes and thumbed the detonator. All hell broke loose. He ran from one side of the door to the other, covering the team's entry from that angle.
Jane ran through the door and turned right, firing rounds and rounds into anyone with a gun. Giving the benefit of the doubt to those who had yet to draw on the intruders, she screamed "Get down! Get down!" at the top of her lungs. None chose to heed her warnings.
John took the hairpin turn after entering and went left. Feeling his adrenaline surge he also called for surrender. The result was then same.
Garrus took the right side approach behind Jane, picking off gunmen as they popped up from behind, or in some cases from above, the bar.
Wrex followed John and never bothered to say a word, firing on anything that he even thought might be trouble.
The rest of the team followed suit, but before they were even in all the way, it was over.
"Jane," called the brother to his sister, "It's time." He nodded to Wrex as well.
In an instant Jane issued a war-cry and charged at the bar, leaping over it, intent on ending the life of anyone foolish enough to think they could wait out the raid and shoot them in the back. The Krogan stood by with biotics at the ready to support Jane from a distance. Much to Jane's disturbing delight, she managed to find a grenade wielding defender hiding inside one of the bar's cabinets. He met his demise at the full length of Jane's eighteen inch bayonet.
Search completed, Jane called out, "She's not here." As she walked past casualties on her way to the next door, she would place her bayonet in the eye of each and every one, kicking them over so they were face up if needed, before pulling the trigger of her shotgun. Some of the marines were disgusted, some indifferent. All were weary of the obviously unstable Butcher of Torfan. Garrus tried not to notice.
"I really like your Sister," grumbled Wrex. John glanced at the Krogan and grimaced.
"Alright people. Keep moving. Find work," John said flatly, "Fredericks get over here and have another breaching charge ready. Tanaka and Gernovich, post up at the entrance. EPW get in here and do your thing; treat the wounded... If you find any."
John signaled the group to halt and get down. He whispered into his team's comm channel, "Jane, I saw movement in the hallway leading out the back of the bar. Have everyone from your side double back and form up on me."
With a nod, Jane led Garrus, Kaidan, and half a dozen marines clockwise around the interior perimeter of the bar to link up with John and his group. "High-Low?" Inquired Jane when she joined her brother.
"Sure. You and Garrus," he said with a nod to the Turian.
Jane took a wide crouch before the opening of the hallway, shotgun pointing down so no part of her was visible to anyone who might be in the hall. Garrus stood above the woman, left knee in her back, right leg splayed out a little further out. His rifle pointed high in the air, also to keep its long barrel from giving away his presence to those lying in wait. He brought his hand down to the back of Jane's neck, two talons slipping all the way between her armored back plate and the thin shirt she wore underneath.
Jane looked up at Garrus, "I'll take front to back, you take back to front." It only made sense that way; Garrus' rifle and skill set made him better suited to picking off targets further back, while Jane's shotgun and impatience made her better suited to closer enemies.
Garrus shifted his eyes down for the briefest of moments and nodded. With an unspoken signal between the two, they rounded the corner as one, pivoting on their left feet as their right feet swung wide. Immediately Jane brought her weapon up and fired, while Garrus leveled his down and did the same. Before even could John register what had happened, the two returned to their starting position neatly hidden behind the corner leading to the hallway.
"I got the one further back; saw two more round a corner. Lightly armored though," provided the Turian.
"I didn't get mine," Jane hissed through clenched teeth. "Only one thing for it."
John nodded and Jane resumed her place at the front, while Fredericks took the rear. With the same practiced technique, the group lined up, signaled, and stormed the hallway.
It was over rather quickly. The guard Jane had missed was hiding behind a barrier as the woman approached. Seeing the obstruction, she wasn't about to move past it without clearing it first.
"Cover me!" she called as she drew to a halt before the object and brought her weapon to the right.
John pressed close to his sister, his assault rifle moving behind her head to cover the direction they had been traveling. If Garrus was right, there would be two more idiots ahead of them. Garrus, for his part, kneeled below the woman, her shotgun now inches above his head, while he also covered their front.
Before he could even bring his eye to the scope, however, Jane's shotgun erupted above him. He heard the dull thud as the guard hit the ground. Without so much as a moment to catch their breath, the entire group resumed their positions and moved onward like a well-oiled killing machine.
The final two men didn't stand a chance. Jane saw the armed individuals and charged. She picked the one on the right for the honor of being first, her bayonet finding blood for the second time that day. She released her left hand from the fore-grip of her shotgun to catch the pistol-hand of the other guard, effectively preventing it from aiming at her. Simultaneously she pulled the trigger of the her weapon, then proceeded to release that hand from the weapon as well. The first guard slumped to the floor, his knees and the imbedded shotgun suspending him above the ground in a grisly tripod while blood and organs fell from the two devastating wounds. The second guard fared no better, if with a little more dignity. Jane hit him hard with a biotic punch from her free hand, killing him the instant her fist contacted flesh, and sent him reeling into the nearby wall.
John examined the two bodies, one crumpled by the wall, the other surrounded by a large and growing pool of blood and offal. "Jane, I think these may not have been guards."
"Whatever, Nee. They had guns." She kicked over the suspended carcass of the first man and, with a firm grip on her shotgun, began stomping her boot into the man's partially excavated chest, giving her the added leverage she needed to withdraw her entrenched weapon.
"Yes, they were clean kills," added Garrus somberly.
"Thank you, Skull-Face," replied the woman, presenting a wide and authentic grin to the Turian. She left a single trail of bloody footprints as she returned to the group.
The team regrouped and resumed their march. It wasn't more than a couple dozen more meters before they encountered Fist, obviously shot from before. The man was smart; the fact that he had abandoned his weapon kept him alive for the moment.
"W-Wait! Don't shoot!" he begged.
"Why not?" John would never kill an unarmed man, but he didn't need to know that.
"I have the information you need. You're searching for the Quarian, right? Promise me you'll let me live and I'll tell you where to find her."
"Alright, deal." John turned to the Krogan, "Wrex, don't kill him."
"Why not?"
"Because there's seventeen of us and one of you. And besides," he added, "you don't need this bounty. It's beneath you. There are better things out there. Enemies tougher than you can imagine that we can all go up against. Is giving up all that worth collecting on this puke? I'll even buy out the Shadow Broker's contract."
"Fine," snarled the Krogan. "I hope your Alliance has a lot of money and you have a lot of people who hate you."
"True on both counts," John turned to the fallen bar owner, "Talk fast."
"She in an alley near here. Just go out that door," he pointed further down the hallway, "It opens right into it."
"Alright, get out of my sight." He turned to the squad, "Move to the door. Stack up, Fredericks get that charge placed, Jane, I'm taking point. No argument."
Jane nodded as the group moved into position. One important rule of warfare, John realized, is that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. This, it seems, was no exception. Just as Fredericks placed the charge, and while many of the rest of the group were still checking over their gear, a muffled blast could be heard from the other side of the door.
"Hit it!" John screamed with a tightening grip on Fredericks' shoulder.
...
January 18th, 2183, 15:12:37
Tali had been waiting patiently for hours, expecting the Shadow Broker to show up at any second. This is getting ridiculous. What kind of information broker keeps their contacts waiting for this long? This data is might be his biggest find in years. Why would he wait so long without... Unless-
"Hey beautiful. You got the data?"
Tali jerked her head in the direction of the voice. It was a slimy voice, the kind of voice that accompanied a man who was used to getting what he wanted from people who were used to giving it to him. A Turian swaggered his way up to her, stopping less than a meter in front of the young Quarian, his talon caressing her arm and shoulder. Two armored Salarians weren't far behind. What the? Why in the name of the Ancestors does this diseased varren think he can touch me? This is bad. There's going to be a fight after all. I won't let it end like this. The two Salarians are standing- just standing- in front of perfectly good cover. They're expecting some naive girl so I've got the element of surprise. If I'm quick I can kill these Det kazuats and then finish off Fist.
Before the thought could complete itself she had already firmly slapped the man's offending appendage away. "Who are you? Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?"
"Relax, baby. Everything is going to be fine. Just give me the data."
"No way, the deal's off," she replied, hands subtly sliding across her hips and behind her back.
The Turian held his hands up and began slowly walking backwards. Acting on instinct alone she tossed a tech mine at the two malingering Salarians and dove to her right and behind some fortuitously placed cover. Before she landed, she heard the tech mine go off. As she impacted the ground she heard a second, much louder explosion. A secondary blast? From behind? Some shrapnel from my mine might have hit something.
She started to he feet and tried to get her bearings, shotgun angling on the Salarians who were beginning to get up. As Tali began to draw a bead on the struggling aliens, she was interrupted by a guttural barking, the loudest she had ever heard. Much louder than she thought any living creature could produce. So loud in fact that, despite her helmet's insulation, she couldn't hear her suits speakers turning the violent noise into intelligible speech. Great, attack animals from behind. I am so dead. Shoot the Salarians first, then the Turian. While doing that, I can turn at the last possible moment and shoot the animals. Their approach is loud enough... I'll know when it's time.
With a start, she realized that the Salarians she was about to pull the trigger on were no longer standing. Something happened to them. What the? No time to think. Where's the Turian? Keelah, the Animals!
She whipped around knowing full well it was probably too late. The animals were going to tear her to shreds, she knew from the sounds of one right behind her. Maybe she'd take a few with her. Too close, much too close. I'm too late. Die you-
Before Tali could get all the way around, before she could bring her weapon up, before she could even get a good look at the beasts, she felt its paw slam into her shoulder. She fell to the ground, hard. A loud blast echoed above her, a grenade passing through the space her head once occupied. The fall had knocked the wind out of her and she felt the creature land beside her with a metallic crunch. Her shotgun went skidding meters away from her. Her arms, pinned beneath her by the force of the creature's paw, made her determine that she'd be dead before she could ever reach her knife. This is it. I hope it goes for my throat first. I hope the pain doesn't last long. I don't want to be alive when they start to eat me.
"Stay down! Just stay down!" she heard it say as she felt a weight release from her back. No, not it, him, an alien male of some sort. It wants me to stay down. Not likely. I'm not gonna survive this just so I can be interrogated or worse- then killed- by a bunch of low-life mercenaries.
Tali was on her feet in an instant, scooping up her shotgun as she ran away from the alien. The naturally fast Quarian got another ten meters before she realized they had her completely surrounded, every weapon trained on her midsection. With no place else to go, she turned to face the aliens whom she now realized were Humans. Yes, she had seen quite a few of them on the citadel, had heard Kal tell her stories about them, and learned all about the First Contact War. They were tough fighters indeed, and this group appeared to be especially tough by Human standards. She realized she was not going to last very long in their presence once they found the OSD on her. I should have hid the thing in one of these damned crates. It'll be quick at least. I can probably take the big red-sleeved one with me.
Tali turned to the one she assumed to be the leader, weapon leveled on him. Her hands shook violently. These weren't thugs; the Turian and Salarians met their Ancestors before their bodies had even hit the ground. No doubt Fist and all his men were dead already. The Human quickly brought his hands up to a position of surrender. I'll try talking, buy myself some time.
"Wh-Who are you? What do you want from me?" The shaking grew worse. Tali took an involuntary half step back.
"Tali'Zora nar Rayya?" it said.
"Who wants to know? Answer me!" Another half step combined with a glance at the wall behind her.
He slowly spoke to her, but what he had to say was the last thing she was expecting, "May the ancestors direct my steps to tranquility and serenity... And?"
Tali was truly dumbfounded for the first time in her life. In the height of her adrenaline, absolute terror, and certainty of death, this alien held out a shining beacon of hope. She dropped her shotgun from her hands without thinking. That's, that's my passphrase! Half my passphrase! He knows me. They told me to always trust the passprase. It means safety, no sign of duress. I think they're actually here to help. But why only half? Oh.
Understanding now that he expected her to supply the other half, she finished, "And deliver me from every enemy, ambush, or hurt, until I arrive at my journey's end."
Upon hearing this, the alien signaled his comrades, whom Tali now realized also included a Krogan and a Turian, telling them to lower their weapons. He walked calmly in her direction. "This is her, people. Comm the Normandy, tell them we have the package and are beginning exfiltration now." He took out his pocket watch and examined it, clearly broken from the fall he took rescuing her from the Turian's grenade launcher. "Huh. Also tell the Normandy that it only took us twenty-six minutes from the time we left the ship until we made contact with the target. That's a team record!"
He held out his hand and addressed her, "Miss Tali'Zora nar Rayya, my name is John Shepard and I'm really glad to meet you."
...
August 7th, 2183, 03:07:22
(Two months, twelve days after the destruction of the Normandy)
Tali contemplated the broken watch in her hand, the one she stared at every night to help her get lost in the warmth of memory. I don't get it. Why is 3:14 so familiar? Could he really have meant something by it? Keelah... Weeks spent searching and I still can't find any significance. It's not coordinates, nothing from any kinds of texts, not dock numbers, deposit boxes, nor even extranet routing addresses, and not one fre'eging thing makes sense... Ugh, I guess I'll just fix it tomorrow then.
Alright review this thing.