The youngest member of the Normandy's crew poured through diagnostic scans within the bowls of the engine room. Her tiny clawed appendages moved without rest or hesitation; Tali feared that if she kept still for too long, someone would see her hands shaking.
She did not want to be coddled by the rest of the engineering staff.
When at last her hands grew weary and sore, her fingers curled into a fist. She held the fist for several seconds before dropping it, hands relaxing briefly at her sides.
Too much stillness.
Blinking away the tension, she made a thorough inspection of the terminal and diagnostic array. Everything was disappointingly perfect. Every piece was sleek and spotless, pristine and fresher than any piece of hardware needed to be. She decided this was good, however. Repairs would require omni-gel, and using omni-gel would mean pawing through the generous gift that rested at her feet.
Tali risked a glance at the toolbox. It was beautiful and quiet, too shy to share its hallowed tales. The message inscribed upon its surface faced the wall. The young quarian had rotated the box in this manner, and she was glad for it. It no longer appeared to be gazing at her.
Perhaps Garrus would need her help. Virmire was covered with sand and saltwater, and saltwater was bad for the Mako. That was what Garrus told her, if memory served her correctly.
The Normandy's vehicle bay lacked the soothing warmth of the engine room. Tali shivered briefly upon entering, but made deliberate strides toward the turian. Garrus Vakarian stood at his usual post beside the Mako, although he did not seem heavily focused on his console display this time.
Tali followed the turian's gaze to the darkest recesses of the vehicle bay. She expected to see cold vacancy in the furthest corner. Instead, she found the workbench of Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams to be anything but vacant.
Donning blue Alliance fatigues, Commander Shepard was poised thoughtfully over the workbench of her fallen friend. Brown eyes washed over the neatly arranged series of firearms that adorned the countertop, each one framed in crimson luminescence. A bizarre display of the chief's incomparable abilities in weapon maintenance.
Several members of the Normandy's crew were gathered around Shepard. Tali recognized Alenko's pensive silhouette, though it took a moment for her to identify the requisition officer among the remaining humans. His SR-1 cap was pressed gently upon his chest.
All eyes were on Shepard.
When at last she turned, there was no hint of surprise or regret in her face. All was silent, until the first human spectre took four strides toward the assemblage of spectators. They stirred, granting her generous room to pass between them, but she halted and simply stood among them for a moment.
Without warning, the commander spun and snapped to attention, standing at the forefront of the many onlookers. Eyes now locked upon the gunnery chief's workstation, the arm bent and the fingers chopped swiftly toward her own forehead. It was the first time Tali had ever witnessed the spectre executing a formal human military salute. Conventional knowledge led her to believe that such a salute was reserved for exchanges with superior officers. She reasoned that saluting a fallen soldier was a gesture of respect among the humans, as if to elevate them and honor them for their death.
A sacrifice.
The human officers gathered around Shepard quickly followed suit. All stood erect and maintained their saluting posture until Shepard departed without words. They exchanged glances before shuffling off and returning to their duties. Lieutenant Alenko was, unsurprisingly, the last officer to leave the scene.
Urdnot Wrex, having little else to do during his idle hours, peered through the darkness at the quarian and turian. He expected a verbal exchange, and was surprised to see Tali trudging back to the engine room with her hooded little head hanging a little more limp than usual. He suspected the quarian would cry or something, but at least now he would be spared the irksome soundtrack of her sorrow.
Krogan intuition led Wrex to believe that the mission on Virmire would not end well. He knew it right from the start, but none of it really mattered in the long run.
Traditional wisdom of the ancient warlords told him that every ending was really just another beginning.