Running Silent:

A Meeting of Minds

…

An alternate ME3. Commander Shepard and her team are on the run from Cerberus and trying to make alliances before it's too late. In a galaxy with no reaper kill switch, how can they hope to defeat something so ancient and powerful? Their last hope is a desperate plan that may cost them everything. Shepard/Garrus, other side pairings.

…

Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

…

Geth ruin everything, came the thought, bitter and venomous in her mind.

Tali knew that wasn't fair. She met Legion. She spoke to it; they came to some kind of understanding. Maybe she didn't trust the AI the way Shepard did, but Legion wasn't evil. No—it was the possibility of war with the geth that ruined everything, and the blame rested not on the geth but squarely on the shoulders of the admiralty board.

Her sleepover was supposed to be an evening of lighthearted fun. Where she could forget for a while about war and death, reapers and destruction. It was, at first. They watched Fleet and Flotilla and gossiped into the night. They talked of men and fights and friends and scandals, but more than anything, they gossiped about whether the fleet would go to war. To her friends it seemed a matter of curiosity and excitement—perhaps the biggest news of their lives. Tali knew more and feared more, and realized how far her life had diverged from the insular lives of her people.

The laughs and whispers died down as her friends fell asleep, but Tali tossed and turned, listening to the strained rumble of the engine and wondering how in the galaxy she was going to stop this.

…

Garrus padded into the kitchen barefoot and yawning, stopping short when he came face-to-face with his father. The older turian glanced up at him, datapad in one hand, mug in the other, and cleared his throat. Garrus knew what the sound meant. He stifled a sigh and sat down at the table, waiting to see how his father intended to start their talk. The tone of their entire conversation—of Garrus's entire trip home—could be set by what Castis Vakarian chose to say now.

The elder Vakarian stared down the younger with sharp blue eyes. "We're going to talk about where you've been for the past few years." It wasn't a request.

It never is, Garrus thought bitterly.

He was tired of arguing with his father. He didn't want to fight anymore, not when he knew what could happen to them when the reapers arrived, not when his mother might not… He halted the thought. Any of them could be dead within the year, and he didn't want to leave with these kind of regrets.

That didn't mean, however, that he had any intention of blindly bowing to his father's authority. Not anymore.

He'd promised Shepard he would try to be civil—and he would—but he couldn't allow his father to derail his purpose for being here. Garrus took a deep breath before responding to his father's demand. "That's actually what I've been wanting to talk to you about, Dad," he replied. "But it's going to be a long talk. I think we should discuss it in your study."

Castis's browplates rose slightly, but he gave his son a nod. Garrus followed him into the study and closed the door behind him. As he sat across from his father, he realized he had no idea where to begin. He'd compiled notes and evidence on the reapers, but he wasn't sure he should start with that. The two of them were barely on speaking terms. Who was to say that his father would even listen?

So he didn't lead with the reapers—he didn't lead with anything. He leaned forward, rested his arms on the desk and asked, "What do you want to know?"

…

It was a long and strained conversation. Castis asked pointed questions that often raised his son's ire. Garrus tried to keep his answers civil, but his father always seemed to bring out the worst in him. Some of his answers were vague at best, particularly about his time fighting in the Terminus systems. He didn't want to mention the name Archangel or even Omega. There were some things his father didn't need to know.

Castis frowned. "You had a mercenary band?"

"We protected the innocent," Garrus defended, perhaps too heatedly. "We didn't do it for money."

They had moved on to Shepard and the Collectors, which hadn't been much better.

"You've heard that Commander Shepard is alive?"

"And working for Cerberus." His father's voice was full of scorn.

"She only worked with them to take down the Collectors! And she's not with them anymore."

"How are you so certain about her?" Castis demanded.

At the end of it all, he'd simply handed his father an OSD with the evidence and his firsthand accounts of everything related to the reapers, and he'd hoped for the best.

"Read that and watch the vids," he'd instructed. "Afterwards, I'll answer any questions you have."

The door to the study hadn't opened yet, and it had been hours.

He tried to concentrate on the rifle he'd been modifying, but it was hard to focus when he knew his father was poring over his evidence just on the other side of that door.

"Garrus?"

He turned to see Solana standing behind him. Her mandibles fluttered nervously. She wrung her hands. "Mom's lucid and she's asking for you."

Garrus stood immediately, rifle and reapers both forgotten. A strange, quivering feeling coursed through him. He went to the doorway not knowing how to feel. He hoped for a reunion, but he steeled himself… just in case. His feet slowed as he stepped into the light of her bedside lamp, and he gazed down at her, waiting.

Her mouth dropped open. He didn't know if that was a good or bad sign. But as soon as she spoke, it became obvious.

"Spirits, Garrus," she gasped. "What happened to your face?"

Garrus broke out into a completely inappropriate grin.

…

"What have you got for me, Miranda?" Shepard asked, sitting down across from her executive officer.

Miranda passed a datapad to the commander. "Hestia T'Nara," she said. "To head up the new information command center."

Shepard's brow furrowed as she read the dossier. "Miranda, she used to work for Eclipse. She's a mercenary."

"Ex-mercenary," Miranda said mildly. "And before you dismiss her, allow me to assure you that she's not what you are expecting. Take a look at what she did for Eclipse."

Shepard scanned the dossier. "Data mining?" she asked, raising a brow in Miranda's direction.

The brunette nodded. "They had her working out what type of jobs were the most profitable, who the best targets were, and more. She could rattle off more information about Eclipse than you would ever want to know. Which is why she's looking for protection."

Shepard sighed. "Do you think we'll ever get someone to work for us whose life isn't somehow in danger?"

Miranda smirked. "If they weren't in danger before, they certainly will be once they board."

"Thanks, Miranda. You always know how to lighten my moods." She rubbed her face. "Set up the meeting. Who else have you got for me?"

Miranda handed her another datapad. "Someone to fly the new shuttle. His name is Zachary O'Connor. He's a former stunt pilot and Alliance pilot."

The pair were quiet for a moment as Shepard watched an attached vid of his flying. "He's talented," she said when it had finished. "I'll give you that. But there seem to be a lot of marks for attitude in his Alliance file."

Miranda shrugged. "I just assumed that was a pilot thing. His file doesn't look so very different from Moreau's. And when has someone's attitude ever stopped you from taking them on?"

"Fair enough," Shepard shrugged. "Anyone else?"

Miranda smiled. "I have a candidate for every position. You just need to do the interviews."

Shepard looked at her incredulously. "Over twenty interviews, Miranda? All at once?" Her voice took on an almost whining tone.

Miranda's smile sharpened. "You didn't think I was going to slack off, did you?"

…

Tali surveyed the admirals as she entered the room. Getting an audience with them was unusual. She was fairly certain that her request was only granted because of who her father had been, but she would make the most of the opportunity. That's what Shepard would do.

Tali hated public speaking. She became shy and awkward and lost track of what she wanted to say. She had rehearsed a hundred times in her head to make sure she wouldn't forget. She reminded herself that two of the five admirals in the room were people she'd known her entire life—but she also remembered that another admiral was neutral at best and one all but hostile.

The fifth admiral, her father's replacement, was a complete unknown aside from the few useless details she had gleaned from her friends. "I heard he and his wife don't share quarters anymore." "Did you know he has a son exactly our age? Talla said his voice is gorgeous!" "My aunt told me he has Invictus whiskey brought in with his monthly shipments."

She pushed those pointless thoughts aside, remembering instead the words Shepard had said before leaving. You do the best you can with what you have. I have faith in you, Tali.

She wasn't going to let Shepard down.

"Admirals," she began, "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today."

"Perhaps now you will finally share with us what this is all about," Admiral Koris interjected, arms crossed defensively over his chest. The other admirals were quiet where they stood in the small conference room.

Already feeling off-kilter, Tali wrung her hands. "As you already know," she began, trying to regain equilibrium, "For the last few months I've been working with Commander Shepard to end the colony abductions in the Terminus Systems. I've brought back evidence to suggest that the same fate, or worse, waits for us if we do not act."

And suddenly, every admiral in the room was deathly still.

She told the story of the Normandy's mission, described the horrors they'd seen through the Omega-four relay. She played the vids from her helmet-cam and showed them the data that EDI and Legion had gathered. She spent hours explaining, answering questions and arguing, and during that time, she discovered one thing—the admirals were no different from anyone else.

They didn't want it to be true, and that was reason enough for them to ignore it.

Koris dismissed her, Xen argued with her, and Raan just tried to keep the peace. She found the new admiral, Jorah, to be as eager for war as Gerrel—and the two of them saw no need to trade one war for another.

"If you're right about this, Tali, the geth will follow the reapers just like before," Gerrel argued. "Which means we should take them out now. We can't give them the opportunity."

Tali tried to tell them that most of the geth didn't follow Sovereign and might not want to fight, but they hadn't met Legion and they didn't understand. Didn't want to. It was the only matter on which she and Koris agreed, but outnumbered as they were, it didn't matter.

Tali watched the admirals argue and yell, and wondered if her failure would doom the quarian race.

…

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was so frustrated she could scream. She moved to switch off her helmet mic, but paused halfway through and dropped her hand. It wouldn't do anything but worsen her headache.

She stared at the bottle of turian wine in her hand. Specially filtered for quarians, it read. She'd brought it onboard herself, knowing that it was near impossible to get that kind of luxury on the Flotilla. Except for bosh'tet admirals, her traitorous mind reminded her, thinking of Jorah and his Invictus whiskey. She carefully fit the sterilized straw into her helmet port and took a long sip. Wine was meant to be enjoyed, not gulped down, but at the moment she didn't care about anything but getting drunk enough to forget this awful day.

She was beginning to feel delightfully weightless when she heard a familiar voice behind her. "You might not want to drink the whole bottle, ma'am. You're going to make yourself sick."

In a flash, the straw was extricated from her suit and her hidden face broke into a wide smile. "Kal'Reegar!"

She whirled around clumsily, stopping herself from hugging him just in time to avoid embarrassing herself completely. She stumbled—embarrassing herself anyway—and he caught her arm to steady her. She blushed furiously under her suit, but Reegar only laughed. Keelah, she would gladly make a fool of herself every day just to hear that sound.

"I see you've already made some progress on that wine," he teased. He helped her back into a sitting position on the stairs before dropping down beside her. "There a reason you're looking for answers in a bottle, ma'am?"

"Tali," she corrected. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Tali?" She she shot him a glare that he couldn't see.

"At least once more, ma'am," he said. She tilted her head, wondering if he was smiling. He cleared his throat, suddenly serious again. "What's bothering you?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle.

"We're all going to die," she said bluntly, gazing at the brightness of his eyes behind his helmet. Huh. Maybe she did have too much wine.

Reegar, to his credit, took her announcement with equanimity. "Uh… care to elaborate, ma'am?"

A laugh bubbled out of her though the situation wasn't the least bit funny. "Those bosh'tet admirals are going to send us to war against geth that don't even want to fight us. Shepard sent me home to warn them that the reapers are coming, but they won't listen," she confessed. She dropped her helmet into her hands. "She trusted me—she put her faith in me—to get the Fleet ready. I failed her. I failed our people." She paused, and her next words were quieter than the rest. "She could have gotten them to listen."

His hand touched her shoulder, setting her heart to racing as she turned to face him. "You haven't failed yet, ma'am," he said firmly. "As I recall, Commander Shepard hasn't gotten anyone to listen to her yet either, but she hasn't given up. She sent you because she believes in you," he told her with quiet determination. "I believe in you too, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy."

Tali's breath caught in her throat, and she found herself completely unable to make a sound.

She was suddenly very, very aware of his hand on her shoulder. Even through the suit she could feel his warmth. The need to touch him was overwhelming. What would he feel like?

His hand slipped away, leaving her cold. "You should get some sleep, ma'am," he said as he stood. "Tomorrow you can try again, and show those bastard admirals what you're worth."

In the blink of an eye he was gone. Tali rubbed her arms where he had held her, and wondered what it all meant. Her stomach was unsettled, but she didn't think it had anything to do with the alcohol.

…

"Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's the difference between a geth and a ginger?"

Half-stifled laughter went around the table, and Shepard raised a brow at her pilot. "I know seven ways to kill you with this beer bottle, Flight Lieutenant. Do you think you can get out the door before I finish drinking it?"

Joker coughed and tugged down the bill of his SR2 cap. "Alright then. How many Council members does it take to change a lightbulb?" he asked.

Shepard shook her head. "Oh no. You're not getting off the hook that easily," she told him. "You're going to tell me the difference between a geth and a ginger. This is relevant to my life, you know!"

Joker wasn't quite able to hide his grin. "Only one of them has a soul."

Ken choked on his beer, Gabby was doubled over, and Shepard was trying very, very hard to look offended. "Fuck you, Joker," she managed to get out before she burst out laughing.

Shepard looked over at Kenneth. "Aren't you offended? You're a redhead too, if you hadn't noticed."

Ken smiled broadly, brandishing his beer. "That's where you're wrong, Shepard. You're a ginger. I'm a redhead. Learn the difference!"

Shepard casually gave him the finger and turned back to the pilot. "Fine. Joker, you can answer the other one, now."

"What, how many Council members it takes to change a lightbulb?" Joker asked. He waited a beat before answering, "Don't be stupid, the Council can't change anything."

After another round of laughter, Gabby spoke up. "Okay, I've got one, but it's terrible," she said, grinning. "Two asari walk into a bar." She paused dramatically. "Then they put on their dancer outfits and get to work."

The four of them laughed and talked late into the night cycle, but when Shepard headed up to bed, she was waylaid by a certain AI.

"Commander?" EDI's simulated vocals came through her cabin's comm. "I have a question. It is about humor."

"Alright, EDI," she said slowly. "Hit me." This would be good.

"Many of the jokes told tonight played into racial stereotypes or other offensive matters. Why do humans find this amusing? I noticed that your anger at Jeff's joke about redheads was entirely feigned."

Shepard smiled, shaking her head. "EDI," she began, laughter in her voice, "The funniest jokes are usually offensive in one way or another."

There was a beat of silence. "I do not understand," the AI replied.

Shepard bit her lip, now frowning. How the hell was she supposed to explain the nuances of humor to an AI? It was hard enough to explain why a joke worked to someone who already found it funny. "Well," she began slowly, "Part of the humor is shock value. That someone has the audacity to actually say it. But if the person telling the joke actually believed what they were saying, it wouldn't be funny anymore."

"Sometimes," she added, "Humor is about airing out the ugly things people think. If we laugh at them, it takes away their power."

"I see," EDI said. "Thank you, Shepard. This has been illuminating."

"Anytime, EDI," Shepard replied, and finally got ready for bed. She wondered, in the moments before drifting off to sleep, if EDI was going to start making inappropriate jokes. In the morning, if she remembered, they might have to have a chat.

…

A/N: It's been just over a year since I began posting this story… and 4 years since I began brainstorming it. I wanted to thank everyone who's been reading so far, especially with my erratic posting schedule. This story is still very much a work in progress.

In that vein, I'd like to ask you readers how you would like to see a particular component of the story handled. What kind of character development would you like to see from EDI? Would you like her to eventually get a body, as in ME3? Or do you prefer her to only be the ship? Would you like to see a developing romance between her and Joker? I'm undecided on EDI and would like to hear your thoughts. Thanks!