Hello again, everyone. Disregarding my last chapter, I know I haven't updated this fic for several months and, for that, I apologize. The sheer length of this chapter made it difficult to write and edit, and so I broke it up into this chapter and the last one (which was originally going to be a part of this one). If you've read other multi-chapter fics before, then you should be aware that this chapter will be one of those necessarily boring, uneventful, and conversation-centric chapters, if only to speed the character-development process along.
REVIEWERS' NOTICE : I repeat, acknowledgements and review-responses will now be located at the bottom of each chapter.
Also, these author notes are starting to become ridiculously long, so I'm going to try and tone it down some. Maybe even edit some of the past chapters out. Nobody ever came here to read my rants; they want to see some Shepard/Tali action!
Anyway, I really do hate this chapter. It started out with a whoppin' 10,000 words, and I've whittled it down some, but it hasn't done anyone much good. I feel like I dragged it on for too long, that it possesses too much exposition at an inappropriate location, and I've been unable to re-write it in a way that I like. Believe me, I tried. I'll admit, I really got tired of looking at this one. That's (more or less) why I've decided to publish it as-is, come what may. I had to soldier on through this one before I could carry on with the fic.
So, again, my apologies, amigos. I did try to make it interesting, at least. If you'd like to look on the bright side, this fic should take a decidedly AU turn after the Tali-centric missions on Rannoch. Some chapters will, again, be based upon in-game scenes, expanding upon what we've already seen, while others will be strictly AU. Why? Because there can never be too much Shepard/Tali fluff in the world, amirite? If there's a specific scene that you'd like to see expanded upon, just let me know and I'll see about including it. Chances are, I already have plans for it, but it wouldn't hurt to be doubly sure that I've covered everything.
Chapter Seven :
Far From Refuge
oOoOo
Both Garrus and Tali noticed Shepard slump forward, simultaneously. They saw the knotted tension in his weary face ease away into a more relaxed expression, which was faintly reminiscent of sleep, and they knew that he was no longer consciously present.
Almost immediately afterwards, Garrus heard Tali inhale sharply. He tried not to be too concerned himself, but he failed rather miserably at that — (Failed, like so many other things). He was simply too preoccupied with what the device was capable of doing, and the fear left him feeling more than a little uneasy about the entire situation. Especially when he had already glimpsed several, inactive geth prime units situated around the facility. Still, he conceded, his misgivings were probably nothing compared to Tali's.
In the meantime, Legion closed his omni-tool and raised his head so he could properly regard Tali and Garrus.
"Shepard-Commander has successfully infiltrated the geth consensus," he informed them, without any outstanding display of emotion. "Now, we must join him."
The two squad-mates then turned to each other and exchanged a knowing look. Though her polarized visor shielded almost the entirety of her face from his view, Garrus still knew Tali better than most, and he could sense that she was anxious and . . . not really functioning at her best. Under the (admittedly, dire) circumstances, anyway, he couldn't exactly blame her for disliking their geth ally. So, as her shipmate, her comrade-in-arms, and, most importantly, her friend, he decided to let his voice speak for her as well.
He nodded, slowly. "Thank you, Legion," he replied as evenly as he could. "We'll just . . . sit tight until you two are done, then."
The geth nodded its acknowledgment, and then promptly lowered its head, stiffened its body, and allowed its "flash-light" to fade into darkness as it, too, presumably joined the consensus. For one, rather inane, moment, Garrus was struck by how much Legion resembled Shepard's beloved mech-dog whenever it entered one of its many "sleep-mode" episodes around the SR-2 Normandy, and he wondered, briefly, how quickly their companions would return to the physical realm, and their respective bodies, should he and Tali find any unwelcome visitors on their hands.
They'd better, Garrus thought, if their squad had any hope of fending off an attack long enough to retreat.
Although he knew that he probably shouldn't, that he should just leave things be, Garrus, nonetheless, hesitantly began to approach the unsuspecting geth. He passed his rifle off to one hand, and then waved the other in front of Legion's darkened optical, hoping for some kind of response. Normally, it would activate and track the movement as the optical lens focused upon him, a potential threat, but, this time, there was no response. None.
Just as I expected, he thought to himself, sullenly. So, it seemed that nothing short of the synthesized gurgle of enemy geth, a burst of gunfire, and a genuine threat to their lives would compel Legion to return to his body again. Hopefully. Garrus turned away with a disgruntled sigh, and was rather . . . glad that Tali wasn't looking.
"Well, Tali, looks like it's just you and me now," he remarked, uneasily. And when the turian ex-vigilante turned back to Tali, he shouldn't have been very surprised (and somewhat . . . disappointed?) to find that her concentration rested squarely upon Shepard's prone form.
Just like . . . well, old times.
Instead of lingering upon that one fact, however, Garrus broke into a leisurely walk across their small stretch of walkway, as a sort of patrol to occupy his mind, expelling those unwanted thoughts in the process, and his keen eyes pierced the shadows of the dimly-lit chamber easily, in search of enemy geth. While Legion had already assured them that he could detect no active platforms nearby, and that they were relatively safe, Garrus's thoughts still remained upon the geth primes he'd seen, and so he stubbornly refused to lower his rifle, even for the briefest of seconds.
'Better safe than sorry' was, after all, a human saying that had always served him well in the past. There was no reason for it to fail now.
At that thought, Garrus chuckled, nervously. "I suppose now's as good a time as any to tell you that I'm glad you're here," he went on; out of some misguided hope that small-talk would not only lend him that much-needed sense of normalcy, but also soothe his frayed nerves. "Back with the Normandy, I mean. My life just wouldn't be complete if I hadn't run into you one last time, Tali."
With this said, he awarded her with the turian equivalent of a grin, because, unlike what he'd said before to Jack at Grissom Academy, he actually meant it this time.
Well . . . back for the moment, at least.
His smile slipped slightly as he amended the thought, secretly. He suddenly remembered the previous night-cycle, which was forced to the forefront of his mind, when he'd looked to the bunk next to his, which was traditionally Tali's, and found it startlingly empty. He'd been disappointed then in a way he couldn't quite explain, and he really didn't know what he would have done if he'd found a stranger lying in her bunk instead. The very idea seemed wrong; repulsive. It had been so easy for his restless mind, forgetting the past few months. . . .
Then again, this reunion certainly seemed temporary. Tali was an admiral now, after all. She had pressing responsibilities, an unnecessary war on her hands, and, more importantly, she was dutybound to her people, officially. She couldn't just run off and join yet another one of Shepard's supposedly suicidal missions, like last time . . . and yet he still found himself hoping that she'd stay. Just for awhile, at least. Next to Shepard, Tali was one of his oldest, dearest friends, and he trusted her, unconditionally.
Besides that, Garrus had never seen Shepard so reluctant, almost heartbrokenly so, to let Tali go when it came time for her and Shala'Raan to return to the Tombay for a few hours of rest. It had almost physically hurt to see him that way. Raan, however, had seemed fairly insistent upon giving her crew a much-needed reprieve as they were "running on fumes," or so Tali had said, and Raan herself needed to finalize strategy with Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris now that the dreadnought had been destroyed. To do so, they'd had to pilot the Tombay back behind quarian lines, where it was still relatively safe. They couldn't stay because, even with all of her technological advancements, the SR-2 Normandy could cloak her own emissions, but not the quarians' as well.
At least, with the dreadnought destroyed, this facet of the war seemed to be nearing its conclusion, however glorious or appalling it would be, and Garrus found some comfort in that, which was jarred when Tali finally turned around and met his expectant eyes.
"Thanks, Garrus," she said, sounding as relieved and thankful as he felt. "I really wasn't joking when I said that it was good to be back." He couldn't see it, of course, but, judging by her tone of voice, he would've bet his entire vigilante salary (or fifty per cent of it, at the very least) that she was flashing him a friendly smile from behind her mask. So, he happily returned the gesture.
"You . . . look well," she continued, awkwardly, likely in pursuit of that same sense of normalcy that eluded him still. Then, suddenly, all of her strength seemed to leave her, and she wilted like a flower on a particularly hot day, which was something that Tali wasn't known for doing.
"I . . . heard about Palaven, Garrus, and I'm sorry," she explained, apologetically; sounding almost as if she blamed herself for the tragedy. "I hope . . . Did your family at least make it out?"
At mention of his estranged family, Garrus's expression darkened immediately, and the grip on his rifle instinctively tightened. It was such an innocent question, really, and she was truly concerned, but . . . her question with-held serious implications for him, and he didn't really like to linger upon them for very long. They only led to the formulation of 'what-if' scenarios in his head, and those somehow compounded his grief considerably.
"I . . . don't know," he told her, slowly. Then, he looked away. "Last I heard, they were still stranded on Palaven."
At that, a small gasp slipped through Tali's hidden lips, and, from her position near Shepard, she extended a sympathetic hand towards him, which Garrus promptly ignored in favor of his patrol. It had suddenly become so much more interesting than it had been mere minutes ago . . . Infinitely more interesting than looking at her and seeing the pity clearly written in her luminescent eyes.
"Oh, Garrus . . . " she murmured. "I'm so sorry."
He said nothing in return. He merely swung his rifle around for another lap, and its tactical light dispelled the encroaching darkness ahead, illuminating his path forward.
"Yeah. Well, don't be," he said at last, gruffly. "It's not your fault."
Inwardly, he added, with a slight twinge of resentment: I just hope that I live to see the day when the Reapers finally pay for everything they've done. It'll be one hell of a sight. . . .
He didn't stop patrolling, and, as an awkward silence fell over them, Garrus desperately wanted to bypass this absurdity by returning the niceties, by asking about her family in return. But then . . . Tali's family was already gone, wasn't it? She was alone now. Or . . . No, not alone, he amended; she still had him and Shepard, at least, and Shala, too, though she seemed to be more of a superior admiral to Tali nowadays than honorary aunt. And as he settled upon this one thought, a cold hand passed over Garrus's heart. Tali had always been the most cheerful and enthusiastic person that he'd ever known . . . She definitely didn't deserve the cruel hand that she'd been dealt. But then again, who exactly deserved a cycle of extinction?
Inexplicably, that last thought sparked another. Slowly, so slowly, his thoughts drifted towards the ongoing war, and the Reapers, and, then, there was absolutely nothing left to say but "I'm sorry" over and over again, or at least until the words lost their meaning in repetition, because nothing they tried was enough to slow the Reaper advance.
To her credit, Tali seemed to be as uncomfortable as he felt about their prolonged silence, and so she quietly grappled for something to say. Something — anything, really — to fill the awful void in their hearts. She cast an anxious glance towards Shepard, then, and knew immediately that she'd stumbled upon a more than suitable topic for discussion.
"Do you really think he's joined the geth consensus?" she finally asked, rather dubiously.
Garrus followed her gaze, and frowned when his own eyes fell upon Shepard's lifeless form. If he hadn't known, he might have mistaken his friend's stillness for death, and that thought disturbed him greatly.
"Why not?" he countered, evenly. Then, he shrugged. "Stranger things have happened." Here, Garrus paused, and stole an apprehensive look at Tali.
"Do you remember Project Overlord?" he asked, carefully.
He knew that it was a stupid question; of course Tali remembered. She couldn't have forgotten that horrifying incident so quickly, and, even if she miraculously had, then he certainly hadn't. Spirits, he still remembered.
After Shepard was unexpectedly "hacked" by the rogue AI, later known as David Archer, and sent stumbling out the door, Garrus had been forced to restrain Tali so as to prevent her from hurting herself. If he hadn't, she would have thrown herself time and again against the unyielding door, and all out of sheer, mindless desperation to reach Shepard because David was more intelligent than they'd originally given him credit for. By rerouting all of the power that coursed through their room, the AI had effectively crippled Tali and rendered her technological ability completely useless. The heavy, metalloid door would simply not open without any power.
Of course, she had calmed down long enough for him to signal the Normandy, but she only returned to her normal self when Shepard finally came back, grim-faced and stormy. He quickly explained all that there was to know about Dr. Archer and his brother, David, and then told them that they would be rescuing David from Cerberus. With no more Cerberus ties to bind him, he felt no qualms about taking David to Grissom Academy, where he would be provided for by the Systems Alliance. But that was another story altogether, and it wasn't what troubled Garrus the most. If not for Shepard's extensive collection of cybernetics, Garrus didn't believe that David would have been able to hack his friend in the first place. And he couldn't help but wonder if they were playing an equally important role in this mission as well, because it struck a similar vein.
Tali, evidently, remembered Project Overlord more than she cared to admit, because she shook her head and groaned, miserably. "Ugh," she muttered. "Don't remind me."
Garrus released a humorless chuckle in return, and said, "Suit yourself." (Pun intended.)
He had missed Tali. There was no denying that.
Tali then turned back to Shepard and sighed. As Garrus watched, her silvery eyes seemed to soften as they fell upon Shepard's prone form once again, and he was sorely tempted to comment upon her supposedly debilitating weakness for their peerless commander. A weakness that had, in the past, become painfully obvious mere weeks after he, Wrex, and Tali joined the crew of the SSV Normandy, and which only intensified after Shepard's apparent death.
Against his better judgment, however, and though it would have been a wonderful opportunity to diffuse a rather tense situation, Garrus chose to say nothing. Now, he felt, was simply not the time for friendly banter. Especially when Tali's nerves were likely fried enough as it was.
"How is he, Garrus?" asked Tali, softly, and her synthesized voice was filled with audible concern.
For a moment, Garrus hesitated, weighing the options in his head. He did not, after all, want to worry her still further with news of Shepard's downward spiral when she was already on-edge. At the same time, however, he did not want to lie and say that Shepard was fine when Garrus knew, possibly more than anyone else did, that he was most definitely not okay. In all honesty, none of them were. Nonetheless, he inexplicably remembered Liara's story and how far Shepard had fallen into his despair, tearing open his hand in the process. Liara had told him all about the bloody shards of glass she'd seen in Shepard's bathroom, and how worried she was about his state of mind. Even Garrus himself had noticed a slight change in Shepard's behavior — He was erratic, on-edge, and, for all intent and purposes, tail-spinning. It only led Garrus to believe that if the Reapers didn't kill his friend, then this all-out war effort certainly would. But he was never that way on missions. Then, he was clear-headed and focused. Maybe a little too focused. Sometimes, it was downright scary. But . . . how could Garrus ever tell Tali that?
Eventually, Garrus made up his mind, lowered his rifle, and sighed heavily. "Honestly? Not so well, Tali. The war's been taking its toll on all of us, but it's been rough on him especially. He's . . . "
Here, again, Garrus paused.
Shepard's what, exactly? he asked himself, thoughtfully. What a loaded question . . .
After all, his friend was many things, but, at the end of the day, he still bled the same way, even if the color was different. That meant he could die. Just like Garrus himself could. Shepard wasn't invincible, no matter how much his old friend wished it were so (which would certainly make life one hell of a lot easier). As it was, the war was more than taking its toll upon him; it was killing him, slowly. One only had to bypass Shepard's cleverly-fabricated façade to see that he was bending, cracking, drowning, dying. Since Palaven, Shepard was slowly deteriorating in appearance. He no longer regularly shaved the strange hair that grew on his face, or made his usual rounds checking in on the crew. Again, Garrus was absolutely terrified that if this war carried on for an extended period of time, then it would end up killing his friend, who had already poured too much of himself into the conflict. It was an anomaly that he'd witnessed several times before, to turian command, during the course of his military career. So, he squarely met Tali's gaze and answered honestly.
"He's breaking, Tali," he said, quietly. Almost as if he was half-afraid that Shepard himself might hear.
In response, Tali closed her eyes and turned away from Shepard. She guiltily began to pace the dimly-lit chamber, which was a habit she had, no doubt, picked up from Shepard himself. Even Garrus couldn't deny that his quirky mannerisms were slightly contagious. As she did so, she swiped at her visor in a gesture that was faintly reminiscent of someone wearily massaging their temples.
Oh, crap.
"Keelah, I shouldn't have left," she mumbled, and Garrus wasn't entirely sure who she was talking to, anymore: Him or herself. "I should have stayed. I should have been there for him. . . ."
He mentally berated himself for stupidly sending her sense of selflessness into overdrive, and quickly decided to make amends.
To remedy the situation, he closed the distance that remained between them, and placed one heavy hand upon her shoulder as means of encouragement. When she looked up, he offered his most reassuring smile. His scar, however, may have forced it into an ugly grimace, unfortunately.
"If it means anything," he began, slowly, "having you here helps, I think. He's started to smile again, so . . . it's a start, Tali."
Tali only continued to worry. She shook her head in disgust and stalked away to pace some more. Now, left with nothing to support his arm, Garrus reluctantly let his hand drop.
"Thank you, Garrus," she went on, "but there's still something I don't understand. Earlier, when we were on the geth dreadnought . . . Shepard said something about being unable to lose me, too."
'Too'?
At that, Garrus froze. He now knew exactly where this conversation was headed, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. And as if that wasn't enough, Tali then turned her expectant eyes upon him.
Damn it. . . .
Elaboration was unnecessary. He knew what she was asking of him, and yet he was still reluctant to voice any answers. Hadn't he proven his loyalty already? Their deaths were still too fresh, too painful . . . Discussing it would only make their deaths more final, tearing open wounds that hadn't completely healed yet in the process. Nobody on the Normandy had to mention their names; they seemed to hang on the air between, out of sight, but never out of mind for very long.
Tali, however, did not appreciate his prolonged silence upon the subject.
"Garrus, who did we lose?" she asked, pleadingly.
Garrus's mandibles twitched. He tried to find the right words, to dull the blow, but they eluded him. Like always. He was no Commander Shepard, but he went ahead anyway.
"Mordin's dead, Tali. Thane, too."
His voice was harsh. Guttural. He sounded like he hadn't spoken in years. Mordin and Thane had been friends of his, and their deaths were still painfully felt by all who had known them, but none more so than Shepard. And now, Tali knew that, too.
Tali's hands flew to her mouth-piece, visibly horrified, and her luminescent eyes widened. "Oh, Keelah!" she exclaimed. "I . . . I didn't know."
Garrus didn't find that very surprising. Tali hadn't been down to the crew deck since the Normandy's renovation. Mostly kept to the CIC and the War Room with Shala'Raan and Legion. She hadn't yet seen their makeshift memorial, dedicated to the fallen, which would have displayed more names if it hadn't been for Shepard — a sentiment that Garrus would hold onto until his dying day, however soon it was. Having served in the Turian Hierarchy's military, and consequently having been exposed to the galaxy's worst commanders, Garrus could certainly appreciate an excellent leader like Shepard. With his contemporaries in mind, he simply seemed to shine all the brighter. Because of Akuze, he was especially dedicated to his crew, and knew, like all experienced military leaders, that some missions just weren't worth the lives of his squad-mates. Then, for crucial missions like the one they currently faced, he tried to support them with everything he had, giving his all. And that mattered.
"Well, they didn't exactly broadcast it on the news," he told her, helplessly. And they probably hadn't. Garrus already knew from his days spent at C-Sec that galactic media rarely covered all the gory little details of a story. In the end, the galaxy at large would not miss an elderly salarian scientist and repentant drell assassin — two heroes who hadn't received the recognition that they rightfully deserved.
He decided to explain before she deigned to ask. Gritting his teeth, he began, reluctantly, "Mordin . . . sacrificed himself so that the krogan would be cured of the genophage. It was the only way." Something he had been telling himself, over and over again, since Tuchunka, but with no tangible results.
Tali's eyes dimmed, and Garrus, of course, didn't blame her for her sentimentality; she'd been one of the first to befriend the salarian scientist when they were still intent on taking down the Collectors. "And Thane?" she asked, quietly.
Instinctively, Garrus clenched his taloned hands into fists, and his mandibles snapped, menacingly. "Thane died protecting the salarian councilor on the Citadel when Cerberus attacked," he explained, darkly. "Some cowardly assassin killed him, Tali. I wish — I wish I'd shot the bastard when I had half the chance. I mean, I could have. I was only a second too slow—"
At that, Tali sighed, heavily. "Shepard probably wishes the same thing," she said, unhappily. Then, she moved away again, rubbing furiously at her visor, and Garrus watched her go, helplessly. "Keelah . . ."
She finally stopped in front of Shepard, and her eyes lingered upon him, worriedly. "Why is this happening?" she asked, softly. "Why is everything just falling apart?"
Huh?
Garrus blinked. Although he was half-certain that Tali was only talking to herself, he had silently asked himself that very same question many times in the past few weeks, and the most troubling thing about it was that it had no discernible answers. As such, he certainly sympathized with her, mostly because, Spirits, he knew what it was like. Tali had likely spent the last few weeks with her people as they prepared for an all-out war. As an admiral (and an inexperienced one at that), she couldn't afford to voice her fears, or even prepare an argument against Han'Gerrel's conflict. She had to remain strong for appearances' sake and never be the cause of any dissent among the Migrant Fleet. Sometimes, he wondered if she was too selfless for her own good. He had always told her that she was more than welcome to talk to him about anything, however, and this certainly seemed like a prime time for doing just that. It was likely one of the only moments they'd have to themselves for a while, and he was determined to make the most of it.
So, Garrus sighed, resignedly. "I, uh, don't know, Tali. I really don't. But . . . I do like to think that everything happens for a reason." Somehow, saying that struck a nerve within him, and he then remembered how firmly his father had always stood by the belief that people only ever went through difficulties, challenges, to make themselves stronger. That's why it's worth it, his father would say, through his crusty demeanor, and that familiar image pained Garrus more than anything else possibly could.
But Tali disagreed. "No, Garrus," she said, shaking her head slowly. "There is no reason for this."
Part of him actually wanted to agree with her. Nothing justified a cycle of extinction. Absolutely nothing. Monsters that lurked in the darkness, waiting for an opportunity to destroy all life . . . A childish nightmare brought into being. They just weren't supposed to be real. He couldn't shake the feeling that there shouldn't be something like the Reapers, or . . . husks, he thought with a shudder. Still, maybe his father was right. Maybe. . . .
As Garrus opened his mouth to bite out another retort, however, intermittent static began to fill their ear-pieces, signalling to them that someone on their frequency was about to speak. Garrus closed his mandibles abruptly so that he might listen, and Tali turned away from him, her fingers flying to the controls of her ear-piece, which was located on an exterior part of her helmet.
"Hello? Commander, are you there?"
After a second of deliberation, Garrus recognized the voice as belonging to Admiral Shala'Raan, and he frowned to himself, thoughtfully.
"Shepard's . . . working on shutting down the server, Admiral Raan," Tali supplied, quickly. She almost sounded grateful for the interruption. "I can fill you in."
Good cover, Tali, Garrus thought, somewhat proudly. As it was, Raan didn't know the specifics of their mission, and everyone preferred it that way. The logic for that decision was sound, at least. If Tali had reacted as strongly as she had to their debriefing with Legion, then there was no telling how Raan, or any of the other admirals, might react.
"The geth squadrons have arrived, but . . . something is amiss," explained Raan, fretfully. "Some of their fighters have stopped functioning. However, we will continue to hold out for as long as we possibly can."
"Keelah sel'ai," Tali concluded, sounding somewhat relieved. "Thank you, Admiral."
With that said, their frequency fell deathly silent, leaving Garrus and Tali to feel even more impossibly alone. For his own part, Garrus sympathetically watched Tali forlornly withdraw her fingers from her ear-piece. He'd noticed, in their communication, that Shala'Raan had lacked the common courtesy to return Tali's niceties. A small matter, perhaps, because the Migrant Fleet currently had their hands full with the geth, but, still, it irked him to some degree that she would callously overturn Tali's compassionate nature.
It irked him so much, actually, that he tried to compensate. "Sounds like you're getting better at this," he offered, helpfully. "And whatever Shepard's doing . . . well, it's working."
For lack of anything better to do, Tali readjusted her visor, nervously. "I know," she replied, quietly. "I just. . . ." She drifted off, slowly. Instead, to emphasize her point (or rather, lack thereof), she made a helpless gesture directed towards Shepard.
Obviously, something was still bothering her, and it was enough to make Garrus frown. "What is it?" he asked, audibly concerned. "What's wrong? Tali, you know you can tell me anything." Truth be told, he was rather hurt that he had to remind her of that fact at all.
What happened to 'no secrets between shipmates' . . . ?
Tali shook her head, frustratedly. She almost seemed . . . torn, between confiding in him whatever-it-was and in keeping it a closely-guarded secret. In retrospect, he was glad that she trusted him enough to share her fears.
Eventually, she shot Shepard a surreptitious glance. As if to reassure herself that he was still unconscious and, therefore, not listening. "I . . . know that they're the only things keeping him alive," Tali began, reluctantly, and in a voice hardly above a whisper, "but . . . How do we know for certain that Shepard's cybernetics aren't a threat? Not just to us, either, but to him, too. I mean . . . Garrus, I've seen the x-rays. Technically, he's more machine than man." She spoke quickly, almost guiltily, and, when she finished fumbling with her words, nervously, she began to fumble with her arc pistol instead.
Garrus considered her words. When he didn't reply right away, she peered at him, oddly. "He . . . Doesn't that bother you?" she finished, worriedly, seeking confirmation for her own irrational fears.
Frankly, Garrus was astounded that her thoughts seemed to mirror his so closely. That is, regarding Shepard's cybernetics, anyway. Still, he'd be damned to voice his doubts so near to their peerless commander and Legion, in an unfamiliar locale. To be fair, though, if he truly worried about secrecy, then he ought to be more afraid of speaking openly on the SR-2 Normandy, where EDI could easily eavesdrop upon any conversation they might have. So, this was probably the right place and right time to hold a private conversation, after all.
He met her gaze, warily. "I'm not sure if I follow you, Tali," he said, slowly.
She sighed, inaudibly, before reaching for the controls of her ear-piece, apparently turning off all outward communication. Likewise, Garrus followed suit. Now, because of the docking port's thick casing, even Shepard would be hard-pressed to overhear them.
"I'm afraid, Garrus," she told him, dejectedly. "I've been afraid ever since Project Overlord."
"Why?"
To that, she made another helpless gesture. "It's stupid, I know, but I . . . What if Shepard's — Shepard's indoctrinated?" Here, Tali's voice broke, with unspoken implications, and, before Garrus could even open his mouth to protest, she hurried to explain. "You know it's not pure coincidence," she whispered, earnestly, and Garrus was uncomfortably reminded of Saren. "His cybernetics, the geth, the genophage . . . and I'm not the only one who's noticed the similarities. The extranet has, too. So, please, don't tell me that it hasn't crossed your mind once or twice."
As he stared at her, Garrus's mandibles twitched, remorsefully. A silent confirmation.
Inexplicably, her voice softened. "Couldn't he be at risk?" she asked, finally. "That is, if he . . . if he isn't already. . . ."
Garrus scowled. "That's not going to happen," he growled, forcefully, sounding more confident than he actually felt. "Shepard's not Saren, no matter what the media might say. He knows better." Briefly, Garrus paused. "And I like to think that we'd be able to tell if he was indoctrinated or not," he finished, quietly.
"I'm sorry," said Tali, suddenly. "That was uncalled for. I'm just . . . Keelah, I love him, Garrus. Truth is, I'm afraid of so many different scenarios. I'm afraid that this war will end horribly, for all of us, that he'll be indoctrinated, and. . . ."
She paused, then, and looked away. "I just want him to be happy once all of this is over," she admitted. "If this is ever over. He . . . deserves that much, don't you think?"
To that, Garrus chuckled, halfheartedly. "I think we all deserve a little bit of happiness when this war's over," he joked. "Especially after the hell we've been through."
With an imperceptible smile, she nodded. "You're right," she said. "I—"
Whatever Tali was about to say, however, was quickly forgotten when more static filled their ear-pieces. Tali abruptly turned away from him, fumbling once again with the controls of her ear-piece, and Garrus turned around to give the facility another once-over. Just in case.
"Keelah, something's happening to the geth!" exclaimed Raan, audibly stunned. "Their fighter squadrons have . . . stopped. We can detect no more active programs within their ships. Admiral Han'Gerrel's fleet is driving them back. The live-ships are safe, Commander."
Though she spoke matter-of-factly, Garrus could discern a hint of relief within Raan's voice. Unfortunately, she chose not to address Tali, but Shepard, which, again, annoyed Garrus, even if Shepard was, technically, the CO of their mission.
Seconds ticked by, and Tali didn't respond. Truth be told, she didn't really need to.
By the time Raan's voice drifted off, and their frequency returned to silence, Tali still hadn't uttered a single word. She simply stared at Shepard, puzzled. And Garrus, true to form, shamelessly joined her in staring.
"Spirits, he did it," Garrus murmured. It just . . . didn't seem possible.
Tali sounded as equally amazed. "Yes . . . He did."
Garrus inwardly conceded that they shouldn't be surprised. Time and time again, Shepard has shown himself capable of accomplishing the impossible. For whatever reason, however, this mission simply felt different. But, different in what way, Garrus couldn't say.
Now, with the geth finally dealt with, Garrus knew that he might not have much time before Shepard woke up. So, he quickly closed the distance that remained between them, and touched Tali's arm. She appeared surprised by his sudden movement.
"Tali, listen to me," he whispered, urgently. "We're going to be fine, okay? You have to believe in that, if nothing else."
As if to emphasize the importance of that belief, he nodded to himself, solemnly. She had to believe it, if she wanted to live, because Garrus knew the stratagems of warfare reasonably well. One of the most successful strategies he'd found, after all, was to deplete any hope of victory that his enemies might have. With that accomplished, they'd lose the will to fight, fearing another loss, and that self-same fear would then become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
He absolutely refused to let that happen to Tali. She was, quite possibly, the brightest person that he'd ever met, and he didn't want her to end up a pessimist, like him.
Tali nodded, reluctantly. Before she could even wrap her mind around a proper response, however, Legion's contrivance began to open, ominously accompanied by the ever-present sound of hydraulics, and, by the time it had fully opened, Shepard was already in the process of climbing out, with his hands clasped tightly around his head. Other than that, he certainly looked no worse for wear. Garrus released Tali, and instinctively clenched his rifle, preparing himself for the unpleasant scenario in which Shepard wasn't entirely himself.
In retrospect, he needn't have worried. But with all that talk of indoctrination. . . .
"Owww . . ." muttered Shepard to himself, smiling slightly, before directing his eyes to Tali. "Remind me to . . . uh, never do that again. My head feels like I just tried to kiss a freight train. . . ."
Thus, satisfied with her lover's identity, Tali promptly threw herself at him, wrapping him in a heartfelt embrace. "Shepard," she breathed into his shoulder, audibly relieved, "are you okay?"
Shepard chuckled, weakly, and returned the embrace wholeheartedly. "Fine, I'm fine," he murmured, quickly. Then, he asked, curiously, "Did it work?"
As Shepard embraced Tali, finding comfort in her nearness, he inadvertently let his guard down, and, in that singular moment, Garrus saw past Shepard's well-crafted façade, and saw not a peerless leader who smiled even in the face of certain death, but a terrified man whose overwhelming sense of duty prevented him from giving a vorcha's ass about his own needs. The moment was interrupted, however, when Legion 'woke up,' and it was quickly discovered that he hadn't been entirely truthful, after all.
Suddenly, they were surrounded by geth primes. At first, Shepard grabbed Tali, as if to shield her from some sort of blow, and aimed his pistol at the closest prime. Tali ignored him completely, and leveled her own pistol at another, while Garrus acted, likewise, with his rifle. They waited, impatiently, for the order to open fire, and yet it never came. Instead, Shepard asked Legion why — an action Garrus and Tali never considered. In this way, Shepard diffused another sticky situation, despite his visible disapproval over Legion's deception.
Then, the sea of geth primes parted to reveal a path, and, as they left the facility, Garrus still refused to lower his rifle. Mutely, Shepard led the way beside Legion, and Tali followed closely behind, with Garrus bringing up the rear of their procession. No one spoke.
Not sure how I feel about this, Shepard, thought Garrus, uneasily. Times like these made him wish that his species had evolved with some form of telepathy so he could let Shepard know how he felt without saying so in front of the geth.
Shepard, too, seemed to be ill at ease. He did not replace the pistol on his belt, either. "Stay close to me, Tali," he muttered, eventually.
The geth might not understand this harmless-sounding comment, but Garrus did, and he smiled knowingly, despite the circumstances. Especially when he knew how much Tali hated Shepard's over-bearingly protective nature. So, it was perfectly understandable when Garrus nearly fell over in shock as Tali did exactly as Shepard requested, without complaint, and shadowed him closely. Garrus silently attributed it to the fact she was surrounded by an age-old fear that had been inbred and strengthened in her people for several generations, ever since the quarians' mass exodus.
The remainder of their journey back passed uneventfully, by Garrus's standards.
By the time they passed through the Normandy's airlock, Shepard appeared to have already recovered his spirits because he was humming to himself, quietly — a quirk he usually indulged in whenever he was content. As they stepped onto the Normandy proper, a mechanical bark split the relative silence of the CIC, and Shepard's mech-dog appeared out of nowhere, sliding to an abrupt stop in front of its master. It wagged its stump of a tail enthusiastically, and a wide grin broke out on Shepard's face as he bent down to receive it.
Meanwhile, Legion didn't wait for them, but set out for the War Room immediately.
"Hey, girl," said Shepard, cheerfully, and he patted the mech-dog on its head. In response, it gleefully rolled over, onto its back, and Garrus was left wondering, once again, if it actually had some faulty wiring, or if it was simply "channeling its inner 'dog,'" as Shepard claimed. Truth be told, Garrus still wasn't entirely sure what a 'dog' was. He had always assumed that it was something like a varren.
Shepard's grin widened. "Did you miss me, Chewy?" he asked, somewhat ridiculously, and began to scratch the mech-dog's belly, ardently continuing the bizarre ritual.
Tali shot Garrus an inquiring look over Shepard's head, and Garrus shrugged in return, helplessly. He didn't understand it, either. But this was the first time the mech-dog had left the hangar since the Normandy first joined the Migrant Fleet, and she was wondering about Shepard and their newest addition.
Behind Shepard, Joker was watching the entire occurrence with tight-lipped, grim-faced fascination. As Chewy happily began to scamper in circles, seemingly in pursuit of its own tail, he snorted, jealously. Shepard looked up and threw him a toothy grin.
"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Joker," Shepard grinned.
Again, Joker snorted. "Yeah. Whatever," he muttered.
"That's it?" Shepard asked, teasingly. "No witty remarks? Why so serious, Joker?"
In response to that final barb, Joker grinned, too, and fell into their old ways of bickering back and forth.
"Serious?" Joker repeated, incredulously. "Fine, I'll tell you what's serious: your pampering of that pooch! I swear, you treat it better than you do me, Shepard, and I'm your helmsman." He shook his head, and feinted hurt. "Besides, I thought you were a varren person."
At that, Shepard burst into laughter. Neither Garrus nor Tali knew what was so funny, exactly, but, for the first time in a long time, it was a real laugh, it was contagious, and it was enough.
For Garrus, one thing was certain: It sure was great to have Tali back, and the original Normandy crew together again. Except for Wrex and Ashley, of course.
Eventually, each member of the trio left, and went to their respective stations. As he settled into daily routine, once again, Garrus returned to the main battery and began to re-calibrate the thanix cannon. While it was a necessary occupation, it was also a mindless one, and it allowed his mind to wander freely.
Unfortunately, that was more of a curse than a blessing, sometimes. Like right now.
Inexplicably, he found himself considering Shepard's vulnerable expression.
It was eerily similar to the scarred face that Garrus saw in the mirror every day, but hid from the galaxy because, damn it, he has his dignity. He's terrified, too, but he's not about to let everyone know that. After all, if he pretends to think that they have a chance against the Reapers, then maybe he'll start believing it, too. So far, the crew of the Normandy has been nothing but optimistic about their odds, living behind their brave faces in their day-to-day activities because they know that they're the galaxy's last, best hope for survival, but there have been those moments when their masks have slipped. Garrus himself has had many of these moments lately. If anyone noticed his moment of weakness, however, they chose not to say anything about it. Everyone but Shepard, it seemed, who, Garrus knew, was lying through his teeth in order to preserve morale.
Still, Garrus could appreciate the sentiment. He wanted to believe that Shepard was right; that everything was going to turn out all right, in the end.
At this point, everybody was terrified, including Shepard. Especially Shepard. He was no fool, after all; he knew that this entire conflict rested squarely upon his shoulders. There was no room for error, and Garrus admired his resolve. Never once did he waver or hesitate. And that only encouraged Garrus to do anything and everything for his friend, if only to lessen his burden. He owed him that much, at least.
As for Garrus himself, he came into this galaxy, kicking and screaming, and, if he had his way, then he'd leave it in the same fashion. He had a feeling that, before this war was well and truly over, they were going to be forced into a vicious fight for their lives, and they'd fight like cornered varren for every inch.
After all, Garrus was a pessimist by nature. He always expected the worst to occur because, then, there was always a chance that he'd be pleasantly surprised. But, now — Now, he doesn't quite know if anyone else remembers the broken girl he dropped off with the Migrant Fleet years ago . . . He knew, though. He still remembered. And he can't help but wonder, if that's how disconsolate she was then, how disconsolate will Tali be if she loses him again, after Shepard's let her in and gotten close? It's a thought capable of freezing his heart solid.
Garrus knew the score well. He knew that such stories usually end in heartache; that happily-ever-afters are nothing more than fantastical pipe dreams. They usually are, at least, for him. So, he's painfully aware of the fact that the odds are stacked against them; that the Reapers will probably win, that everyone will die horribly and go the way of the Protheans. As all good things must end, eventually, so, too, will Shepard, and Tali, and even himself. But that doesn't mean he won't try; it won't keep him from hoping for a better future.
Inexplicably, Garrus wished that he'd be wrong about all of this. That Tali wouldn't lose Shepard in the end, though he's dying, slowly. He's . . . drowning in all of these difficult decisions.
It's . . . strange. Never before has Garrus wanted to be wrong so fiercely. But then again, never before has he had so much incentive.
Tali was right, he reflected; Shepard deserved to be happy, once all of this was over.
Now, he was determined to give Shepard his happily-ever-after.
Frankly, I'm surprised you even read this far. Seriously, 8,600 words for one freakin' conversation? Who in their right mind does that? That is, besides me? Nonetheless, I applaud you, dear reader. Excellent work!
Now, onto Rannoch proper and the better bits of Mass Effect 3! Huzzah! But first, the next chapter will have a (small?) flash-back in it that should establish what happened to Shepard's father in this fic. So, stay tuned.
Acknowledgements :
1. Overlord Moo : Abandoned? Of course not. For this story, I have twenty or so chapters planned out, and, of these, I probably have 40% of it already written. If I abandoned it now, all of those files would go to waste on my laptop. So, if I'm late in updating, my friend, just chalk it up to mechanical issues. Anyway, I wanted to include this mission because I feel like it was a unique break from normal routine in ME3, and that very few fics recognize it. Also, it's something Commander Shepard has never faced before, and I like to think that every Shepard, whether Paragon or Renegade, had some lingering fears before they entered the geth server. So, it was a wonderful opportunity overall to explore some of Shepard's fears and develop his character at the same time, making him more sympathetic and human in the process. As to your desire to see this monstrosity... No. You really, really don't. I wouldn't be surprised if trying to read it caused your eyeballs to catch on fire. Or worse, explode... But I digress. Fine! Fine. Seems like people really were disappointed in my lack of Gerrel's beating (which my Shep didn't do, by the way), but I now have a (somewhat?) clever idea how to make it up to everyone. Heh.
2. Tom80 BSN : So, you want to see Raan interrupt Shepard and Tali's little scene after Shepard takes down the Reaper on Rannoch and Legion sacrifices himself? Is that correct? Hmmm. It's an excellent idea, my friend, but I don't know if I can pull that one off. As it is, I already have something special planned for that scene (I, uh, don't really want Raan to interrupt it, if you know what I mean), another expansion of sorts, and I honestly don't think Raan would actually view Shepard and Tali's relationship kindly, if ever she found out about it. I imagine that it would be difficult for her to ignore 300 years' worth of racism (which I think would lead to quarians viewing all other alien species with outright suspicion, including humans) and also the fact that such an unusual relationship would be a terrible health-risk for Tali. All in all, I don't really think she'd approve. Do you have any other suggestions? Maybe you'd like to see some other Shepard/Tali scene expanded upon?
3. TW6464 : Ah, well. Fancy. Lucky you. I myself am currently attending university. Where, I can't say because it's classified information, I'm afraid. Don't want the FBI comin' after me for, I dunno, plagiarism, maybe.
4. Kalska : Well, thank you! I am, as ever, honored that you like my story thus far, and your review certainly encourages me to keep up with my grammar and spelling since I beta it myself.
5. BassMaster : Thank you, sir/madam!
6. timbryanscott : Thank you so much, my friend! I wouldn't dream of abandoning my fic now. 40% of future chapters have already been written, and are currently floating around on my laptop. If I discontinued this fic, all of that hard work would go to waste. Seems to be a lot of reviewers are like you, and want more character development, so I guess I'll just do that, then. You know, I'm glad that I have more time for writing, too... People actually seem to enjoy the rubbish I post on here.
7. Lord Jace : Thank you! Yeah, I don't think I can take screenshots with my ps3, so I opted for the crappy-quality alternative. I'm pretty happy with Shepard's facial code, and it works on ME2 as well, although you'd have to give him a new hair style because his ME3 one isn't included in ME2... Now, is this the part where we bump fists and scream, "Talimancers, unite!"?
