The silence was finally broken from the captain giving an awkward cough, shaking me out of my paralytic state. I could feel all the eyes in the cabin looking at me but it was the soft, earnest gaze directly in front of me that pulled in every last iota of my attention. For some reason, I could not break away from the excited, yet slightly sad stare coming from the black-suited quarian, Nyareth.
Now that she was directly in front of me, I could see her form in much greater detail than before. I now was able to notice that her suit was not all black as I had previously thought, but rather varying shades of gray all cobbled together to form a rather strange collage of dark colors. An unfamiliar insignia upon a buckle held loops of fabric around her body, giving her a very worldly quality. Her hood was fiercely accented and the edges were stylized to give off a look of aggression, both amplified from the dark red color of her visor. A ragged and striped cloak around her waist hung still in the stale air. The blue light that signified her vocabulator had been rapidly blinking with her words – signifying her excitement. She had truly come a long way from the half-dead person that I had found in the middle of that alley. A lithe form, now full of life. There was an odd sense of relief that I felt, despite my misgivings, at seeing this young person back from the brink.
I'll have to admit, it enamored me.
"Kannos?" the captain now tried more directly. "You've met this human before?"
Nyareth gave a confident nod and pointed a finger at me. "Not only that, captain," she said around what I assumed was a rather large smile, judging from how her breathing seemed to be a bit labored and how she fought to keep from shaking so hard in glee, "this man saved me from a trio of people that would have killed me had he not fought them off and carried me to a clinic. I…I would not be alive today if it weren't for him."
Oh no. She was trumping me up to look like a hero in front of everyone. It's not like that anything Nyareth said was false, but I'm not one to beat my own drum especially knowing that I had saved someone's life. Also, I would hardly consider jumping into a fight and getting my ass completely handed to me would hardly be called saving someone. If I had been a few seconds slower with slashing at that turian with my knife, I would most likely have been killed as well. Just for that, it was my prerogative specifically to not brag about my supposed greatness. I'm not all full of hot air, you know.
"Really, now?" the captain said, a little more interested. He took a step forward in order to look me over a bit more closely, now that my achievements apparently warranted additional attention. "Well, Mr. McLeod, I was aware of Kannos' injuries when I took her on as my shuttle navigator, but I had not heard that it was a human that had enabled her to survive such a trying encounter. You certainly have my gratitude for lending your assistance to one of our own."
"Thank you, sir," I said carefully, trying not to stumble over my words. This had been such a shock that my heart was still racing. "I…only did what I thought was right at the time."
Bullshit, Sam. You had a spur-of-the-moment urge to act chivalrously without considering any of the consequences towards altering the future. For all you know, you could have still screwed everyone from enabling Nyareth to live. There's no telling as to how important she will be to the timeline, but one can never be too careful.
Meanwhile, Vhen made a harrumphing noise. "Really? You're congratulating this human for what anyone with a positive moral center would have done in his position?"
I arced an eyebrow as I shot Vhen a dirty look. That was certainly uncalled for. Even though I was consciously being modest by not assisting in illustrating further my supposedly good deeds, saving someone from attackers was not really an act that most people would have willingly jumped into. It's the classic bystander effect: a psychological phenomenon in which people do not provide assistance when others are ostensibly present. Like it or not, even though most people (speaking optimistically) have a positive moral center would rather not get involved due to the ambiguity of the situation, a lack of cohesion with others, and the desire to diffuse responsibility to anyone else. For some reason, I had actually triumphed over the bystander effect which should have been an indication of my moral center to Vhen, which made his argument all the more puzzling.
I turned back to the captain. "Have I done anything to offend him?"
"I wouldn't get all worked up about it," the captain seemed to share in a dismissive opinion of his lackey. "Vhen is notorious for being rather abrasive with aliens."
"For good reason," Vhen interjected. "I've had spent enough time around aliens to know their true colors. This…Sam is not to be trusted. All humans are scoundrels, liars, and manipulators that only think about themselves and never others. Self-centered, never once thinking outwardly."
"Now you're just flattering me," I responded snarkily. Vhen had a hot temper and it appeared that when I was sarcastic towards him, he would get even more inflamed. I could control my own emotions up to a certain point so it was rather amusing seeing this man lose it over something so trivial.
"You don't fool me for a second!" Vhen barked, thus proving my point. "You saving Kannos was most likely not an act done out of the kindness of your heart. You were probably hoping that you could potentially benefit from saving a pilgrim in need in the form of a reward or something like that."
Okay, seriously. What the fuck was it with this guy? I haven't been panhandling out here in space and, if I recall correctly, I had offered to pay him and his people a substantial sum to repair my ship. Why would I ever be seeking a reward?
I'd have to watch out for this one. Vhen seemed unhinged and even worse, erratic. There was something about him that I could not read – something beyond my existence perhaps. I then decided that I was probably never going to like Vhen at all.
Before I could insult Vhen in kind, Nyareth stepped in front of me to face the man, her eyes narrowed in aggression. I nearly groaned in exasperation. Come on, lady. I don't need to be helped out here, I can handle this guy just fine!
"Stop it, Vhen!" Nyareth nearly shouted, surprising me with how ferocious she now sounded. Before she was squeaking and hopping up and down with delight and in no time at all, she had her fangs bared and were ready to sink them into Vhen's green suit. "Who are you to decide who this man is? He was the one who rescued me, not you! In fact, you were nowhere near me when I was attacked, or when I was lying nearly dead on a bed in a clinic! He stuck up for me more than you ever did – and you were my partner on Pilgrimage! You were supposed to look after me and yet I found your presence lacking. What has this human done to deserve your scorn?"
Vhen eyed me craftily before he looked at Nyareth. "I think that you should be more careful of the friends that you choose, Nyareth. If you had the same experiences that I did, you would be less trusting of this man."
"The friends that I choose? What friends, Vhen? You? Why should it matter of the company I keep to you? All I have to contend with on this ship is you, a whiny and immature brat, and I would rather have been partnered with a krogan had I been given the choice."
"Too bad, Nyareth. It was only fortuitous for you that I decided to become your partner on Pilgrimage, otherwise you would have been in even more trouble without me to guide you – and you've never been thankful for that. You needed someone with my experience of the flotilla's ways to help you. Rightfully so, considering you did not have the upbringing anyone else on this ship did, what with you being the child of an exile and all that."
Good god almighty. What sort of pissing match did I happen to get thrust in the middle of? Apparently Vhen had struck a chord with his not-so-subtle emphasis on Nyareth being the child of an exile, whatever that meant. Even though its meaning was lost on me, the entire cabin fell silent once again and Nyareth went as rigid as a board. All I could hear were some faint mumblings from her helmet as she was either speaking stifled curses under her breath, or she had resorted to her native language in anger.
Thankfully, the captain stepped in again to defuse the tension while I switched my weight from foot to foot, trying to stay in the background. "All right, you two, enough! I've had it with your endless bickering! Vhen, you've gone too far this time. For that inappropriate outburst, you're on sanitation duty for the day cycle. Kannos, you'd best accompany Mr. McLeod to somewhere away from Vhen's earshot while we determine our next heading. Consider yourself relieved from duty until further notice. No penalties accrued on your end."
"Yes, captain," Nyareth said in relief. She turned to me and gestured to the door that led down the hallway, indicating that I should follow her. I gladly complied and as I passed by Vhen, I heard him utter the word "bosh'tet" under his breath. I didn't need to speak whatever language that was to know that bosh'tet was some kind of insult. Well, two could play at that game. Still smarmy, I raised my fist up to chest height, clenched it, and used my other hand to make a cranking motion, rotating it in circles while I gradually raised the middle finger in my clenched fist until it stood completely upright.
"Go fuck yourself," I hissed through my teeth, taking great care to emphasize every syllable.
I then hustled up to escape Vhen's next eruption, cackling to myself at getting in the last word. I have no idea what I did that could piss Vhen off like that, or what humans had done to him in the past, but his anger towards me was completely unwarranted in my opinion. Well, if he wanted to make an enemy, he picked the wrong asshole, because I can be one irate son of a bitch when prompted.
In the meantime, Nyareth led me down the dim hallway until we reached what appeared to be a mess hall of some sorts. The room had four sets of long tables, more than enough space to accommodate the entire crew from what I had seen, but currently devoid of anyone except the two of us. Nyareth sat down at one of the booths and I took the chair opposite her, taking a look around to determine if we were truly alone before I could begin to relax.
But I still could not sit still no matter how hard I tried. As I looked at the quarian across from me, it dawned on me more and more that this was an actual person whose life I saved. Her presence, her actual physical presence would have ceased to exist had I not intervened. Her very existence has already shaped the lives of the people around her – the proof of my meddling. But was this something to feel guilty about? What was the shame of preventing someone from dying? What did I have to be afraid of?
Then again, what right did I have to let my guard down and assume that Nyareth's survival would seriously alter the course of events? This was uncharted territory for me and I was helpless to do anything but watch.
"So…" I tried to begin, but the words failed me and left me looking rather awkward for a bit.
"So," Nyareth interrupted with a wry laugh followed by a tiny shake of her head, picking up my slack. "I think that the introductions could have gone a lot better than that."
My dry laughter was quite welcome. I admire someone who can find the strength to quip at anything. "I'm sure there have been worse. If Vhen had not been there, I wouldn't have put you in such a position."
"That's Vhen for you. He's like a varren I can't shake off. He always insists in being part of my life when in fact all he does is just annoy anyone within a ten meter radius around him."
"Glad it isn't just me that doesn't get along with him. How can you cope with a guy like him around?"
Nyareth crossed her arms, the shape of her eyes in a pensive expression. "Cope?" she chuckled. "I've never had the occasion where I could stomach him for a single second. What you saw back there is how he always treats me: with disdain. If I could get rid of him in a heartbeat, I would. The sad thing is that he's been the one person that I know the best out of everyone in the flotilla. I've had the misfortune to be around him for years, due to our common lineages."
I blinked at that and leaned across the table, my brow furrowing. "'Be around?' You mean you two are…together?"
Nyareth's laugh was straight from the belly. "No! Oh Keelah, never. I'm not that desperate. Even though I've had the most contact with him for over ten years, like the captain said, he's too abrasive for me to handle for long periods of time."
"I was about to say…" I added as an afterthought before I gave a quick shrug. I cupped my chin and looked at Nyareth closely, taking in the intricate details of her suit – the ridges in the neckline, the looped fabric of her belts, the frayed edges of her hood.
Nyareth noticed me staring. "What is it?"
"Just the oddest thing," I said distantly. "I honestly never thought that I would see you again after…that day."
The quarian woman leaned forward. "Why didn't you? Why didn't you stay and wait, I mean?"
"Well…I…"
That was a good question. Go on, Sam. Tell her exactly why you didn't stay and wait for her to get out of her coma. I'm sure the answer will go over very smoothly.
"…I'm not sure."
You wimp.
I bit my lip in an effort to draw more conversation pieces out of myself. Nyareth was still staring at me, hanging on my every word. More pressure for me to perform.
"Look, Nyareth, I-,"
"Oh, call me Nya, please," the quarian said.
I lifted my head. "Nya…" I said, testing the word out on my tongue. "Nya. Huh, I quite like that."
"It's what my mother used to call me. No one else calls me that even though I like it better than 'Nyareth.' Is your name, Sam, a nickname as well?"
"Yeah, that's right," I said, impressed that the quarian knew that. "Short for 'Samuel.'"
"I like Sam better."
"So do I."
As I cracked a smile for the first time since stepping foot on this vessel, I could see Nya's body language soften as the atmosphere noticeably warmed between us. My first real face-to-face interaction with a quarian had been a complete bust with Vhen, but with Nya, the tone was much more friendly and welcoming. It was easy to forget that I was talking to someone with a mask but I felt that I could tell exactly what Nya was feeling based on the minute movements of her body along with the type of glow that her white eyes emanated. There was something quite captivating about those eyes, something that I could not fully describe that enthralled me so.
"You're staring again." Nya pointed out, her tone slightly teasing.
It took me a bit to jolt from my still position with a shake of my head. "Sorry," I apologized. "I was just being pensive. That's twice in the last ten minutes that I've heard a reference to your mother before. At least, was that what Vhen was suggesting when he called you a 'child of an exile'?"
Nya looked away forlornly. "I guess you haven't been exposed to our customs before. The concept of exiling must seem very strange to you. My mother…she was exiled from the quarian fleet before I was born. She gave birth to me on a distant planet and I was raised there for most of my childhood. I only first arrived to the flotilla when I was a girl and had to remain there for a couple extra years in order to catch up on my studies."
That didn't exactly answer all the questions that I had. "What did your mother do to get her exiled in the first place?"
"I'm sorry," Nya said simply as she spread her hands. "It's…not really something that I like to talk about."
"Oh," I quickly realized that this was a sore subject for the woman to my embarrassment. "I didn't mean to pry, Nya."
"It's no problem. For a human like you, I can see how you're intrigued by what is different."
"Trust me, I've been in stranger situations. I guess you can consider me an expert at adapting to different cultures if you were in my shoes. Although I've never encountered a culture that exiles people in person before."
"Well, I can't deny that I am a child of an exile. However, because the population levels of all quarians hangs in a precarious balance, the law is that the children of exiled quarians bear none of their parents' shame and are allowed to rejoin the fleet. It was the right afforded to me when I first arrived on the flotilla. Even so, I've had to fight for everything, even among my own, because of the scrutiny that has been placed on my legacy. I've carried this stigma on me since I was born and no amount of effort on my part seems to register with anyone."
"So, the chance to bring your family name back, along with a successful Pilgrimage, is like some small semblance of redemption for you, huh?"
Nya nodded. "Something like that." Her eyes carried a lonesome look before the ice melted, bringing warmth to her gaze. Her attitude brightening rapidly, she shook her hands in excitement. "But that's not important right now. Oh, I can't believe that this has finally happened, Sam! I've been looking for you for months on end, but I could never seem to locate you. And today of all days, you're here! This…wow, I've been wanting to talk to you for so long I don't even think you know just how happy I am!"
I blushed and felt myself sinking lower into my seat. I've been called a lot of things over the years (many of them bad things) but never have I been told that my presence made someone so ecstatic before.
"You…were looking for me?"
"Why, yes!" Nya responded like that was the most natural answer one could give. "When I awoke from my surgery, the last thing that I could remember was your face as you carried me out of that alleyway. The nurse confirmed to me your first name, but he didn't seem to be able to recall your last name."
That was because I had specifically instructed the nurse not to say anything further than that. Good to hear that the man had kept his word.
"For an entire week straight I searched the Citadel for you," Nya continued. "But only having a first name to go on, while on a station with millions of people on it, I did not get very far. In the ensuing months after I had settled in back on the flotilla, I used my spare time to search entire databases for someone with your physical description, but I had the same rotten luck. I just wanted to know the identity of the person who saved me, when no one has ever gone out of their way to do anything for me before."
Even though I felt that my reasons at the time for keeping my anonymity were pretty much justified, I still felt a little guilty at having put Nya through a continued series of disappointments with my absence. For that matter, why did I not let her know who I really was in the beginning? I had already saved her life, so what would have been the harm in letting her onto my full identity? It probably would not have changed anything worse than I had already inflicted on the timeline, so what was it that I was running from? What excuse could I pull out of my ass to possibly rationalize this entire debacle?
Nothing, that's what. So I didn't even try and proceeded to put that thought out of my head for the time being. I can deal with my own erratic thoughts later.
I brought my hands together and gave Nya a sad look. "I find it very hard to believe that everyone you've ever met treated you poorly on your travels. I mean, you seem like a nice person to be around, so why would that not endear you to anyone?"
Nya's body twitched ever so subtly. Hmm, that was one tic that I couldn't fully read.
"You realize I'm a quarian, right?" Nya asked me.
I glanced in both directions before I gave a slow shrug, dubious. "And?"
"And we were the ones who created the geth that drove us from our home, leaving the rest of the galaxy to think of us as scavengers and thieves, right?"
"Quarians have never scavenged or stolen anything from me. Should I assume that all of you are thieves because a scant few of you have chosen to do something like that?"
"But…we enabled the geth to rise up and leave the galaxy in terror! Billions of lives were lost from our creation!"
I shrugged once more. "So? You never made any of those geth. Why should you pay for a mistake that should not be attributed to you when it happened so long ago? Why should I react in such a negative manner? Just because everyone else does is not an acceptable answer."
"B-But…" Nya seemed to be running out of ways of disparaging herself. "But everyone else-,"
"Why should I be like everyone else? On that logic, why should I have not helped you in that alley?"
"Because…" Nya stammered, lost for words. "B-B-Because…"
The transition from her previous attitude to the present was alarming. Before she had been enthusiastic and full of life; now she was slipping into a mournful mood. That depressed me as I wanted to see more of the happy quarian that I had been engaging in a conversation with. I don't like it when people think of themselves as garbage, especially people that have done nothing wrong in their entire life.
Nya's hand was gently resting on the table so my impulsive mind saw an opening and commanded my nerves to react. I reached over and grabbed her hand for a gentle, but reassuring squeeze.
It was interesting to feel her reaction, even through the suit. The covering itself, what was not covered by bits of frayed fabric, had a rubbery texture to it yet I could feel the slight bone structure of a three-fingered hand that hinted at a petite form locked away from the outside world. Nya jittered initially at the point of contact but quickly relaxed at my soothing touch. There was nothing manipulative about this at all, at least from my point of view. Sometimes, all one can say is in a touch. And that is also all what one can need.
"Regardless of how you think the galaxy should perceive you," I spoke directly to her, all while looking deep into her eyes, "that doesn't mean that I should treat you the same."
Apparently a simple grasp of the hand was not enough because Nya rapidly stood up from her seat so fast that I thought she wanted to move somewhere else. I was not prepared for what happened next because she took a step and a half in order to position herself perfectly so that she could give me a hug.
My heart skipped a beat, only because I was caught completely off guard with this action. Nya was holding me quite tightly, loose enough for me to not choke, but firmly enough that I could tell of a fierce strength beneath the confines of that suit. Blinking in surprise, my fumbling arms managed to wrap around Nya's comparatively thin frame in order to return the hug. After all, it's always best to be polite. The side of Nya's head pressed into my chest so hard that I swear that she was trying to hear my foreign heartbeat. The seconds slipped away and with the passage of time, the awkwardness lessened. In fact, I felt very comfortable in this woman's presence.
Nya gave a grateful sigh, her posture loosening as well as her hands around my waist. "You…are a very different human than most, Sam."
"Should I be taking that as a compliment?" I said craftily as I smirked at her.
"What do you think?" Nya sighed with equal snark.
Oh, I'm beginning to like her a lot more now.
Before I could form a suitable reply, a timid cough came from near the entrance of the mess, the sound causing the two of us to jump apart like we had been touched with a live wire. Near the doorway stood Rheas and behind him, Vhen. We had evidentially not heard them coming. I did not need to see Vhen's expression to tell that his lowered head meant a deep-seated anger of some sort. Whether it was reserved for me or Nya could be determined later but it was the fact that the man was still broiling with strong emotions that gave me pause. I needed to watch my back when he was around.
"Rheas," Nya said breathily, making sure to ignore Vhen by not even giving him a glance from her. I noticed that her posture straightened again and that the pitch of her voice was a bit higher and more formal. "Did the captain wish to see Sam again?"
Rheas did not even give her an acknowledgement as he chose to look right at me and cut to the chase. That was rather rude of him. "I just wanted to let Mr. McLeod know that the captain chose to accept his generous offer and that he diverted our course back to the flotilla an hour ago."
"Great," I said. This was good news. "When do we get to arrive there?"
"In five minutes time. We actually changed our route not long after you left the bridge. We're going to be re-docking with the Xonna where you'll disembark and spend about a standard day while we repair your ship. In the meantime, the captain has appointed Kannos to be your escort until then."
"That's a relief," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth. I'd much rather spend my time with Nya than have to engage in a verbal sparring match with Vhen over the most trivial of conflicts. It was about time that I had some decent company for once.
Taking a glance at Nya to hear a quip in return, I was curious that Nya did not sound off as I expected. Rather, she was stiff and rigid almost as if she were standing in front of the pope himself. Odd turn of events, but I suspected that there was more to her body language than I was being let on. I needed to remember that I'm the outsider here.
After Rheas followed by Vhen left, Nya and I were left alone again. Her shoulders slumped and her breathing changed in tempo, almost like she had transitioned between the stages from running to walking. Guided from an unsaid cue, we looked at the other at the same time and gave a very similar shrug. Guess we're more alike than I would have thought. How odd that such traits can transcend species.
"Well…" Nya said, trying to break the ice that had been formed from the frosty atmosphere left in the wake of Rheas and Vhen, "…you're not mad that the captain assigned me to be your escort, are you?"
That was a silly question. So silly that I gave a quick laugh. "Nya, out of the two quarians that I've shared more than a hundred words with, you would be my first choice to guide me around your home. I'm guessing that the Xonna is your home given the fact that it's part of your name, yes?"
"That's right. I currently am quartered on the Xonna along with everyone else on this shuttle. Have…have you ever visited the flotilla before?"
"Nope," I answered cheerfully. "Never. But I am up for seeing new and fantastical places. It'll be interesting in visiting your home. And I'd be delighted if you could show me around."
Nya was definitely beaming behind her visor. That gave me a pang. I don't think anyone has ever expressed interest in her presence before.
Do I even have the right to feel like an asshole now?
The quarian flotilla is described to have, in total fleet strength, upwards of fifty thousand ships in its ranks. On paper that is an impressive number. To see it in person is even more so. Imagine witnessing a complete mass of ships just jut out of nowhere, for there to be a clear boundary between empty space and an entire armada of vessels contrasting with one another. It was controlled pandemonium – an artificial collection of microcosms grouped up into squadrons, forces, and divisions.
Near the center of the huddled, metal mass, three gigantic ships, the biggest I've seen save for the Citadel, powered on through the slight gaseous arms of a nearby nebula. Entirely spherical bodies that rotated upon an axis, powered by four fusion engines that jutted out and ruined the overall contours of the impressive craft. Nya said that they were the liveships of the fleet, the enormous sources of food production for all quarians. All three of them were enough to feed the seventeen million quarians housed within all of those fifty thousand ships. Sounded like the quarians were nothing if not efficient.
The Xonna, by contrast, was not as large as any of the liveships. To be fair, it was about average size compared to the rest of the ships in the fleet. It looked like an engine had been attached to a spinning wheel and left to its own devices out in space. It was a unique design that captivated my interest in that I was definitely ready to see more.
The shuttle clamped down onto one of the airlock door sets outside the larger frigate and opened shortly thereafter. The skeleton crew shuffled out of their seats and ambled out into the Xonna as soon as the decontamination procedures had finished. Nya and I were among the last ones to exit, and I consciously made an effort to adjust my rebreather before I crossed the threshold.
I was expecting grandiose hallways, majestic pillars that supported an ancient yet hard-working vessel of a transient race. Instead I could only see more of the same grimy, metallic brown colored walls that stretched on in all directions. A few tapestries hung from the walls, the colors faded from time. Crates lined wherever there was empty space, some stacked neatly, others completely strewn all over the place. Dust was made apparent from the light of the stars out the viewports, draping over everything. The particulates were so thick that I could have sworn that I was walking through a cloud at some point.
What I could immediately tell about the quarian culture, though, was that they were a very social people. Everyone was at least grouped up with another in close proximity, no matter if they were standing, sitting, or walking somewhere. They made small talk, laughed and told jokes, and even shared meals of what appeared to be some sort of sticky paste in a tube. I'm just glad I ate beforehand otherwise I would regret my limited options that were afforded to me.
No one gravitated toward Nya, though. Not for a quick word, a report, or even a joke of sorts. As far as I could tell, the various quarians we did pass in the halls seemed to actively avoid her at any cost like she had an invisible shield around her warding everyone away. My subconscious edged my gait to the side so that I would amble a bit closer to her, just to make sure she did not feel left out. Of course, it might have been due to the fact that the quarians were suspicious of the lone human in their presence, but their gazes did not seem to flitter onto me at all. Rather, they would glance at Nya first then make the conscious decision to steer clear of her, so I don't think that I was part of their equation.
If Nya was upset by the lack of attention imparted in her direction, she did not seem to mind. Live with being a pariah for so long and eventually you get used to the idea.
"Most quarians are rarely welcoming to outsiders," Nya explained. "It's mostly because of the germs that you carry that causes consternation amongst some of us. But you've been through the appropriate decontamination procedures so you're considerably less of a potential contagion than normal."
"Well, I'd hate to be a burden in any shape or form," I responded.
We were headed to what appeared to be a gathering area of some sort at this point. The large room was packed to the brim with quarians all commiserating in their clumped groups, chattering in their own language (at least the stuff that my translator could not pick up) while also consuming their food: some pasty white mush sealed in a sterile tube. Apparently the quarians did not have that much of a diverse diet considering the fact that all of their food had to be prepared very carefully in order for there to be no residual contaminants. That in turn wiped out the flavor that had been barely present in the nutrient paste, giving it a very sour palate according to Nya.
Nya grabbed one of these tubes and offered to see if they had any levo foodstuffs that I could eat. I politely refused, both from the fact that I genuinely was not hungry at the moment and also that I was not particularly keen on eating sterilized food in this environment. Even having a TV dinner out in the open here could potentially be a breeding site for bacteria and other microbes that humans take for granted, all of which could be fatal to my quarian hosts. I could afford to go hungry for a short while if it meant not risking the lives of others.
Clutching her food tube, Nya led me over to a table situated next to a window. Peering out from the smeared glass, I could look down below and view the interior of the Xonna in all its glory. It was like looking at a high-rise. Countless levels of rooms all protected by guardrails ringed and stacked on top of one another, creating a skyscraper effect. Quarians hustled on their respective levels, never seeming to stand still for very long. Exposed pipes and wires snaked around whatever space was bare, the only sound emanating from them was the coolant rushing through the smooth surfaces. I could not resist giving a low whistle of admiration.
The more I thought about it, the more ancient this ship seemed. I was willing to bet that, due to the rate of decay that I was witnessing, the Xonna had to be at least a hundred years old. I decided to ask.
"Actually, the Xonna is around two hundred and thirty years old," Nya responded like such an answer should have been obvious.
"No kidding," I downplayed my surprise. "Around the time this ship was built, the only impressive vessels humans had constructed were warships for our oceans. Let a couple centuries pass and everything changes, eh?"
"Right," Nya said somewhat morosely. "Of course, we haven't had a homeworld for three centuries, so I wonder sometimes just how much we might have progressed if we had our own planet to anchor ourselves down to."
I could not imagine losing the right to go back to my own planet. That was an eventuality that I've never really considered. I mean, technically I live on the Citadel now but I always consider Earth to be my home. To have that beautiful blue ball locked away from me forever…I don't know how I would react to that.
"You know, considering our own history, we've made many mistakes to get to where we are now. Constant warring with one another, persecuting other people because of race or sexual orientation. Humans have a long list of screw-ups in the past so why should the quarians be vilified for experimenting with new technologies? Truth be told, humans have no right to slander any other race for mistakes that they made alone. At least, from what you and Vhen described, it doesn't sound like you've met very many hospitable humans throughout your travels."
"No, not many. You just happened to be the one fluke." The words were dry, but her tone was a little light with a hint of mischief present. Ah, the presence of humor. Now we were getting back into safe territory. "A fluke that I'm still very grateful for, by the way."
"Don't be grateful for too long, I could still disappoint you." My words, although in jest, did carry more weight than Nya could perceive. If only she knew.
"I doubt that," Nya scoffed. "Unless you happen to be just as prejudiced towards quarians that you haven't let on to me?"
"Hardly. I would assume that if I had some sort of prejudice towards your people, that would have probably affected my decision to charge headlong into that fray."
"But it's a little more complicated than you're letting on. We created the geth and they subsequently drove us off our homeworld. It was our own fault that caused them to become a menace to the galaxy and to lock away that specific quadrant. Your people's mistakes never affected the galaxy negatively, only yourselves."
Nya finally broke the seal to her food tube and began to suck down her nutrient paste with gusto. The woman had to be starving based on how rapidly the tube was drained and I wondered how often the feeding intervals for quarians on the flotilla were. Suddenly, I felt the innate desire not to consume any food while I was here if there was a food shortage that Nya did not mention to me, levo or not.
Our hands had unconsciously scooted towards the other while we had been conversing, and repeating the familiar action came just as easily as before. Clutching her hand in mine, I could once again take note of the calming effect this had on Nya as her taut body relaxed in relief. I guess that with a suit-donning species like quarians, a touch can be quite cathartic. For humans, such an action can speak volumes. Does it mean the same for quarians?
"True, but that doesn't mean that you have to pay for those mistakes. Take what happened in the alley with those three punks. Did you even do anything to bring all that down upon you?"
"Nothing!" Nya said vehemently. "That's the thing, I did nothing to deliberately antagonize those people that were beating me up. One of them must have seen me poring over the blueprint that I had earned and assumed that I had stolen a valuable file. But, I didn't steal anything! That blueprint was given to me."
"Blueprint? What kind of blueprint?"
Nya looked up for a pause, both of us now unconscious to the fact that our hands were still tightly clenched together, never mind the fact that she seemed to be clamping down on my fingers for extra support. It was only when her grip got uncomfortably tight did I start to take notice.
"At the time, I was on my rite of passage for the fleet, my Pilgrimage. To be more specific, I had finally gone on my Pilgrimage since I told you that I had come into my training late, thus necessitating me to be held back until it could be deemed that I was adequately prepared. I had specifically gone to the Citadel because I heard of the success stories from a scant few quarians that went there and came back with amazing finds, like a new ship or a working eezo core. And because I had spent half my childhood living in a desolate wayfarer station, losing opportunities to establish myself with my fleet-mates, I was determined to find an item of value that would definitively prove my worth to the fleet. To make it short, I lobbied myself for weeks on end before a small technology company took me on as an unpaid hire. Their specialty was working with the ionization of particles for the defense industry and my job was to assist in field tests, since I had an adequate background in engineering."
"Is that what you want to be?" I briefly interrupted. "An engineer?"
"That wouldn't be bad," Nya said. "But all I've ever wanted to be was a pilot. There's just something about being in command of an entire ship, leading it from destination to destination, that seems…I don't know…"
"Like you can be control of your destiny from sitting in that seat, having the movement of a gigantic vessel all at your fingertips?"
Nya blinked. "Well…yes. Exactly. When you're in that seat…you feel like you're the ruler of everything."
I grinned while our hands slowly slid out of each other's grip. "I know the feeling, piloting a ship. It's something that I've grown to love. What do you currently do now?"
"Me? I'm just a navigator for salvage runs like this one. I have to get more experience before they'll let me pilot something like a frigate of this size. Also, I'm a support unit for combat squads as a sniper."
"A soldier?"
"Every citizen does their duty in the service at some point," Nya emphasized. "Even the pilots. It provides all of us guidance for our choice of career, so it does help."
I scrunched my eyes up, apprehensive. "How old are you, exactly?"
"Twenty-two," she said. "What about you?"
"Me? I'm twenty-five."
"Huh, so you're not that much older than me. What is it that you do for a living, Sam?"
I smiled and looked nonchalantly at my fingernails. "I'll tell you if you will get back to your story right away. Sound fair? Sorry about cutting you off like that, by the way."
"That's no trouble," Nya said breezily. "I can understand that you can be overwhelmed with all of this information."
"You got that right. But I'm actually training to be a doctor at the moment. Nothing too outlandish there, but good enough to be considered a respectable form of employment."
"A doctor," Nya repeated in interest. "What kind of doctor?"
"I would like to deal in physical fitness, mostly. Basically I would work with the treatment and prevention of injuries related to sports and exercises. That deals with several muscle groups as well as ligaments and even brain trauma."
"Medical personnel on the flotilla are highly regarded," Nya added. "We might place an emphasis on our military capabilities but our medics are considered to be quite the masters of their craft."
"Humans tend to have the same regard for such professionals in our culture as well."
"Then there's some common ground between us," Nya put a hand underneath the chin of her helmet for support. "But back to what I was saying, after a few months of working for this company, one of the managers rewarded me by giving me permission to take my accumulated knowledge of my work back to the fleet in the form of a blueprint. I had figured out a way to utilize thermal energy in order to save on power while creating a nonvisible ionized beam in order to facilitate arcs of electricity. A very deadly form of attack if properly weaponized. I had been poring the schematics over beforehand while I was headed back to my hovel and I guess I had been careless with whom I was waving it around because I was cornered by those three thugs in that alleyway. They accused me of stealing and began to beat me. That was when you showed up."
I had been supporting my chin with my hands at this point, elbows on the table, my eyes steadfastly locked onto Nya's.
"Just like that?" I was surprised at the immediacy in which she described. "They did not ask you if you came about that blueprint legitimately?"
"No!" Nya exclaimed incredulously. "They did not listen to me when I tried to protest. In fact, not many people listened to me during my Pilgrimage."
"Listened? What do you mean?"
"I mean that everyone I tried to talk with either brushed me off or ignored me. Sometimes, I was even struck for no reason when the owners of establishments tried to get me to clear off for 'loitering.'"
I found myself scowling as Nya described her hardships. I'm white middle-class, so I really can't say that I've experienced any sort of racism in my life, but to hear firsthand accounts like that made my blood boil. I know that I can be an asshole sometimes and flat out boorish, but I've never antagonized anyone simply over their skin color or religion. To me, the concept of racism is flat-out barbaric and as backwards-thinking as it can get.
"Son of a bitch," I muttered out loud.
"…Sorry?" Nya asked.
I waved a hand in response. "Nothing. I'm just shocked that you had to go through such ordeals during your Pilgrimage. Where I'm from, there was intolerance, but there was always a gravitating need to be accepting of others. It just feels like we haven't learned any lessons since then." I leaned forward, glancing towards the larger group of quarians to my right before I lowered my voice. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"
"No, go ahead."
"I know I haven't spent that much time around you but I have noticed that you seem to be a little…stiffer around your fellow quarians than me. I don't know, it's just that you seem more energetic around me than you were with anyone else I've seen you correspond with. Why is that?"
The quarian tilted her head before she gave a tiny laugh. "I wear it that plainly?"
"Actually, I find that I can read people very well. I don't exactly need to see your face in order to know what you're feeling. Your exaggerated body language, for one thing, is quite revealing to your current mood, a tic that I guess had to be cultivated over the centuries since you lost your homeworld in order to properly convey emotions amongst yourselves."
"And you'd be right," Nya seemed impressed. "There is also an answer to your question, Sam. You're one of the few people that I've met that has not treated me with any sort of disdain upon meeting. You just said it a moment ago, that you don't need to see my face in order to know what I'm feeling. I'm not sure if you are aware of the significance of that, but to have someone like you, a human to boot, tell me that my hidden features are a nonissue is…surprising. Elating, definitely, but surprising. The fact that I'm a child of an exile does not seem to matter to you, even if it does to my fellow quarians. That's it right there – you respect me as a person."
It was definitely a good thing that I could mask my own emotions better than Nya could. If she was even aware of the turmoil I was facing inside me, she might rethink her opinion of me. I was now pretty sure that I had not screwed up the main plotline, but there was still a shred of doubt that ate away at me. Now that I had talked with Nya, though, I was convinced that she was a good person that had definitely been worth saving. In another life, if I wasn't so paranoid, things might have been different.
Shame was taking hold of me. Not just for my selfish thoughts, but for being in the situation where I had to actively consider if saving someone's life had been the right thing to do. What the fuck was wrong with me? Was I always this cold and callous, or have I always been this way? Given the manner how I handled my breakup with Elizabeth, I'd say that there is definitely a dark streak inherent within me. But does that make me a bad person? If I acknowledge my faults, can I find my own redemption?
Why? Why can't I just accept that I did something good? Why do I have to feel sorry for this? Why can't I let it go?
"Stop lying to yourself, Sam," the tiny devil in me sang. "You know what it is that you're really afraid of. How long are you going to keep this whole timeline crap up? Why not admit it before things go too far?"
Because I promised myself that I would not be put in that position again.
"Too late. It's already started. You're just going to have to deal with it like everyone else. You think you're the only one to feel this way? You can't deny your true self, Sam. Why bother hiding it behind this poorly constructed veil?"
This veil is all I have. It's how I've stayed sane all this time.
"And yet the veil is tearing. No matter how much you try to sew it back together, it will always come undone. What matters is how you choose to deal with your inhibitions, whether you will be willing to destroy someone else for the sake of your own so-called sanity. Even you are peering through the ripped tatters at this point."
Get out of my head…Taylor.
My dead sister floated free from my memory just in time for me to register the final few seconds of Nya's admiring summary of my personality. Before I could form a modest reply, I was quickly cut off by a melodious tune that wisped out of a crackling intercom. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and gave the music a few seconds of silent appreciation. It was a pure song comprised entirely out of vocals – one that I could not understand the words to – but it had a very otherworldly quality to it that made the harmonics and appropriate counterpoint stand out hauntingly. I felt entranced from the music, but everyone around me did not as they begun to shuffle out, clearing the room.
Nya too was starting to stand so I mimicked her movements. "What's going on?" I asked.
"That's our shift notification," she said. "We have a group of singers perform a hymn to denote when it's time for us to take our mandated breaks."
The quarian song broke off with a final, soulful note and the speakers fell silent after a burst of static.
"It was really pretty," I said admiringly.
"I'm glad you liked it. It's actually rare that anyone gets to hear quarians sing as we don't really do it outside the fleet."
"Well you should. I bet that there are people that would pay good money to have a recording of quarian hymns."
Nya laughed. "I should pass that along as a Pilgrimage idea. From what I've heard, recording contracts bring in a fair amount of credits."
"And you'd be right," I agreed as I followed Nya out back into the hallway. Wordlessly, we clambered into a nearby lift and took it down a few stories. We departed the box just when it was starting to get crowded and headed off into another nondescript corridor. My skin was starting to ache where the rebreather had its seal upon it. I desperately wanted to remove it for a bit, but then I remembered that I couldn't – not while on this ship. Damn and blast.
After passing a series of tight doors, Nya stopped at one of them seemingly at random, waved her omni-tool in front of the lock, and ushered me in.
"Welcome to my room," she announced.
It was not exactly a Ritz Carlton. My apartment in San Jose had been in better condition actually. It was not the fact that these quarters were cluttered and messy, but it was more of the fact at just how cramped everything was. A singular desk was situated at the end of the room and flanking it were two triple bunks built directly into the walls. The bunks themselves only had about four feet of clearance each, making them almost the dimensions of coffins and creating a very real danger for someone bumping their head when rising from sleep. I could see only a thin mattress for each bed, no pillow or blanket, and nothing else in terms of amenities. This was as Spartan as you could get.
"It…it isn't much," Nya seemed a bit embarrassed at her current digs but I was not disappointed in the slightest. In fact, considering how Nya had been educating me about her people over the last few hours, I was actually expecting something like a few twigs and some mud. Hell, a mattress was probably all I would ever need to get a good night's rest.
"It's just fine for me," I said, meaning every word. "I only need a place to rest my head for a few hours. I'd even take the floor if you pointed out a spot for me to lay down."
"Oh, I could never do that!" Nya was stupefied that I could ever lower myself to such standards – much less be accepting of them. "You're more than welcome to take one of the bunks. Everyone else is on their respective missions and won't be back for days. Feel free to choose any one you like."
"All right," I said as graciously as I could muster. "If you insist."
Making sure to duck, I had no trouble inserting myself into the bottommost bunk on the right side while Nya took the left. The mattress was hard and it was a little disconcerting looking at a ceiling less than a foot from my face. The coffin analogy was more prevalent than I had previously thought in my joking head but I was tired enough that I knew I would find sleep easily – even with all my clothes on. I positioned myself so that I was facing Nya's bunk only to see her on her side staring right back at me.
"Hey Nya?" I asked after suppressing a yawn.
"Yes, Sam?"
"Thanks," I mumbled with a smile. "Thanks for chatting with me today. It made what had been a bad day more interesting."
Nya blinked and adjusted the orientation of her head – definitely smiling. "You're…you're welcome."
"I would like to do this again tomorrow. Get to know you better, I mean."
Nya's head rose a few inches more. "So…so would I, Sam."
Yawning in full force this time, I settled myself in a more comfortable arrangement. "I guess that's as much a date if I ever heard one," I muttered lowly that Nya could not hear, but even then I still did not fully realize what I had just said. "I'll see you in a few hours then. Good night, Nya."
My eyes welded themselves shut and everything around me faded into the gray recesses of my mind, but not before Nya whispered her next words to me in her soft voice. They shone, even through the blackness, soothing me with its warm undertones. In that moment, for one unbelievable nanosecond, I felt completely at home.
"Good night, Sam."
A/N: Last chapter before the New Year rolls around and I'm still not even halfway done with this thing. Pro for you guys, con for me as I still have to write it all.
Hopefully you guys liked this chapter, despite the dialogue-driven nature. Sometimes these chapters work, sometimes they don't so I'm interested to know how this resonates. I've got so much on my plate that I don't know how I find the time to write, but I'll definitely be more motivated now that Nyareth is officially on the scene. As to her importance in the story, I shall just sit back and let you find that out when the time is right.
And no, that time is not now.
