Fifty-One: Grave

Mara wasn't one for shouting, especially not at those who were well-respected. The Council was the exception; they were closing their eyes to a matter of galactic security. But this had very little to do with galactic security.

This had to do with Tali. And that was something Mara would never take lightly.

An hour earlier, the young quarian had been sobbing in Mara's arms, mourning over the broken body of her father. Tali had no time to properly grieve for her father. They needed to continue through the ship, destroy the geth still roaming its halls. But why? Did it matter now that they knew her father was dead? The question was all too familiar.

Familiar memories swarmed Mara's mind like the geth swarmed the Alarei. Her father had been crushed under the roof of their house. He'd only just managed to usher his daughter, barely sixteen, out of the house before the supports failed. She could only see his hand, outstretched as if beckoning for her, before it fell still and became lost in the rubble.

It would be unfair to say Mara was hurting as much as Tali. She didn't want to believe she could be. And yet, as her fingers twitched, searching for a pill bottle and clenching when they found none, she feared that she might be. So she took it upon herself, once Tali's breathing had steadied, to channel that anguish into angry determination.

Tali made it very clear: revealing her father's true intentions was not an option. To her, exile was preferable. So when the time came to return to the Admiralty Board, Mara held no reservations. Her translator was abuzz, chugging loudly as it worked to decipher dozens of stunned murmurs in the quarian language.

"Do you really think Tali'Zorah sent the geth?"

"She couldn't have sent that many working parts."

"Where is Rael'Zorah?"

"What will the Admirals say?"

"What about the human?"

Mara glanced around at the field of suited aliens flooding the room. Their respirators hissed softly, creating a static-like buzz in the atmosphere. The ship creaked and groaned, held together by quarian architecture – which was little more than hope and good luck – but the anxious hum of the crowd was overpowering even the metallic scraping.

Then Mara overpowered it all. The Admiralty Board wanted to bicker over unrelated matters? It was their argument, and it had no place in Tali's trial. Mara said this loud and clear. They were cowed – it showed in the way they hesitantly typed out their verdicts.

"Tali is found innocent of all charges. She has done no wrong."

Through her mask, her bright eyes softened with an expression of gratitude. She reached for Mara's hand and grasped it tightly with a faint clack of their armor colliding.

"It's been a long time since anyone shouted at the Admiralty Board," she whispered with the snickers of an awe-filled youth.

Mara squeezed her hand. "Maybe they need to be shouted at every once in a while."