Author's Note: Howdy all.
First, I wanted to start this with a "thank you." When I posted the last chapter I honestly wasn't sure if anyone would still be interested in reading; I was so humbled and flattered by your many kind words. I have to admit that seeing so many comments so quickly gave me the kick up the pants I needed to get started on this chapter.
Secondly, this chapter launches Operation: Finish the Goddamn Fic, You Horrible Sloth. Expect missions to be condensed as we go on, for both narrative reasons (i.e. why have two spooky ships when you can accomplish the same thing with one) and more practical concerns (this story is already longer than the Fellowship of the freakin' Ring).
If you're particularly bothered by big changes to canon … well, wow, weird that you're still here. But as we go ahead I am pretty drastically departing from the game series. Yes, that does mean that I think "writing off half the Cerberus characters, turning Samara into a somehow meaner Dredd, and completely overhauling the back half of the game" is not "drastic." The third instalment of Beyond the Fire will be very different from Mass Effect 3. I actually liked Mass Effect 3! Well, that's not entirely true; I liked parts of Mass Effect 3, but its plot has more holes than swiss cheese and the ending made me feel like I'd eaten expired yogurt. Suffice to say I think that while it works well as a game I'm not convinced it makes a whole lot of sense. Also, I love dairy.
Alas, I am lactose intolerant.
Anyway: thanks, as always, for reading.
P.S. Truck Fump.
Brief book-keeping note: I wrote this on the fly and had completely forgotten quarian naming conventions. I have edited this chapter a touch-something I don't ordinarily do-to try and fix that issue.
xXx
Tali had never felt like such a stranger in all her life.
When she'd first begun her Pilgrimage, she'd pretty quickly realized how widespread the mistrust of quarians was. She'd been denied lodging, straight-up ignored by vendors, and on one occasion, nearly attacked–all before she'd made her way to the Citadel.
But even then, at least she'd known that home was waiting for her. Even then, she'd known that omnipresent distrust was just the slimy skin of a society she would one day leave.
Now, as she walked onto the Rayya, it felt worse. The home that had once been her only source of comfort was turned against her. Every quarian they passed turned away from them, tilting their heads in such a way as to not make direct contact with her sightline. They might as well have been wearing signs which read: "You are not welcome here. You are not one of us."
It probably didn't help that she'd come aboard accompanied by a turian and the Red Dragon. They were both wearing their full armour, with quarantine seals in place–Tali was sure she'd heard Liara expressing some concern to Shepard about her wearing a helmet, but she hadn't wanted to pry.
In any event Tali didn't think she would have been able to do this without them. Garrus, at her side, was quietly comforting, every now and again trying to make some joke to deflate the tension. Shepard, on the other hand, was as silent and imposing as ever. But that was comforting, too. It was nice knowing you that the scariest thing on board was on your side.
Shepard was leading the way, guiding them along the corridors towards the Council's private meeting chamber. Ordinarily, a trial would be held in public, before an assembly of quarians–the idea was that exile was always done by the community rather than a few representatives.
But she wasn't even getting a trial, according to the message she'd received. They were "seriously considering" exiling her–which didn't make any sense according to everything she knew about quarian law.
Tali startled as she came up short–Shepard had held out her hand to stop her. She looked to Shepard, who gestured subtly ahead of them. Tali turned to look to see a quarian in an extremely luxurious, dark-coloured suit was approaching them. Her mask was framed with silver, and she wore a long cloak of shimmering, black material which was cinched up at one shoulder over her suit. It was the kind of thing that only very, very wealthy quarians wore. As she approached she nodded her head and bowed,
"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya vas Neema. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Xilah'Sonah." Tali could hear the woman's smile, but it was impossible not to notice the lack of a ship name. "Not an exile, my dear. Merely a businesswoman."
"Um–I am sorry, but who are you?" Tali asked, trying not to sound rude. Shepard answered for her.
"She's your counsel."
"I can't afford you," Tali blurted, purely on instinct. Xilah laughed and spread her hands towards Shepard.
"Not to worry, she can. Come. We need to speak with the Admiralty Board regarding their … legal approach to your case."
The woman turned and began to walk down a hall towards the Council chamber. Tali turned towards Shepard, but Shepard had already laid a hand on Tali's shoulder. The weight–and there was a lot of it–of Shepard's hand on her shoulder was strangely comforting. Shepard met her gaze–she had a knack for communicating like a quarian, and it was something that she really appreciated in that moment.
"She's trustworthy, Tali. I vetted her myself. And so did the Shadow Broker. Directly." A spike of frission still travelled down Tali's time at the Shadow Broker's mention; it hadn't quite sunk in yet that the Shadow Broker was a friend. "She's probably the best in her field, and she's not someone the Brokerage has ever used for anything … unsavoury. She's on your side." Shepard squeezed Tali's shoulder. "Trust me."
Ever since Shepard had come back from the dead, Tali had been afraid that she wasn't really the woman Tali had known. That she was some sort of Cerberus amalgam–or worse. And then she'd heard about what had happened to Liara … even now that she knew the truth, it was hard for her to forget the initial horror she'd felt when she'd seen that video of Shepard murdering her. The video had been vetted by every news site as legitimate … of course now she knew how they had done it so convincingly.
But for a while, it had convinced her. Until Shepard had laid a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it to make sure she felt okay. Until she'd asked Tali to trust her. Remorseless killing machines didn't care about your trust. They didn't want you to feel better, either.
xXx
Tali hadn't really known what to make of Sonah, at first. The woman had seemed at once friendly and imposing, as she explained the details of her legal strategy. Most of it went over Tali's head–if she was entirely honest with herself she could have stood to pay more attention in the civics classes she'd taken as a kid. She'd always been more interested in tech and engineering–wanting to follow in her father's footsteps.
So she'd followed Shepard's lead and just decided to shut up and let the lawyer do the talking. It didn't help that she only knew one of the admirals who were presiding over her … well, not-a-trial. Rather than the public assemblage that was tradition for any discussions of exile, the admirals were meeting them in a small room at a circular table in its centre; the lighting was dim, and the room's walls were brown, making it feel oppressive and quiet. Tali knew Admiral vas Neema, and knew that he'd been friends with her father–but he had been as closed off to her as the others when she entered.
Xilah'Sonah, however, seemed utterly at ease.
"We have entertained this meeting due to the respect once associated with Tali'Zorah vas Normandy and her family. But make no mistake–"
"Vas Neema." Xilah's voice had acquired an edge so sudden and sharp that it cut through Admiral vas Moreh's speech like a knife. "That is among the many grievances my client is bringing before this council today."
"You misunderstand," said Admiral vas Moreh, leaning forward so imperceptibly that no one but a quarian would have noticed. She was not happy with this lawyer, not happy to have Shadow Broker agents on her ship, and was not happy that she was here at all. That much was practically written all across her suit. "This is a mere formality. The severity–"
"No, you misunderstand." Xilah had stood up, slamming her hands on the table. The other admirals seemed shocked; vas Moreh held her ground, crossing her arms and levelling her gaze at Xilah. "You intend to exile Tali'Zorah vas Neema on hearsay, based on the contents of her father's will, which you have withheld, without allowing viewing by either vas Neema or her counsel, without a trial, without giving the accused the option to defend herself. Let me be clear, Daro." The truncated, shipless variant of Admiral vas Moreh's name was more than brazen–among quarians, it was downright offensive. "If you proceed in the childish, slipshod, embarrassing manner you have suggested in your threatening communications with my client, I will summon the full legal power of Noreni Law and obliterate your Admiralty board. You will not recover."
"You can't sue the Admiralty Board!" Now Admiral vas Neema was standing, outrage plain in his voice. Tali felt her stomach plummeting–vas Neema was the one person she had hoped might be an ally in this. But Xilah only shifted in her stance, leaning back and crossing her arms in a kind of cocky quarian grin.
"Can't I? There is plenty of legal precedent. Or you could change the laws. Prevent the suit–sorry, suits–which I will bring against you. Damn. That really fouls up my whole plan." Xilah snapped her fingers in frustration and turned away, as though musing to herself. Even among quarians, this was high theatre–but maybe that was just what lawyers were like. Tali hadn't met many. Xilah started tapping her fingers along the back of the desk, adopting a sort of farcical frustration, "Of course, the people would never tolerate such behaviour. If only I had access to the sort of information network which could disseminate that information among the Flotilla. Perhaps a sort of brokerage, operating in the shadows … help me out here, I'm sure such a thing must exist."
As if on cue, Shepard leaned forward, placing her clasped hands on the table. She didn't really have the subtleties of quarian body language down for a meeting like this, but she didn't need to. Everyone–even Xilah–froze for a second when Shepard moved, as a trill of fear trickled down the spines of every living thing present. Even Tali. She trusted Shepard–she wanted to trust Shepard, more than anything. But even before she'd come back from the dead, Tali had never been able to predict her.
"I would like to take this opportunity to assure the Admiralty board that the Shadow Broker themselves is in full, unambiguous support of Tali's legal defence. And all strategies her counsel sees fit to pursue. I have it on excellent authority that funding is no obstacle."
"What authority would that be?" This came from the only Admiral who had been silent so far; Admiral vas Qwib-Qwib. Tali knew him only by reputation, particularly from the soldiers who had accompanied her to Haestrom. They all thought he was a whining, geth apologist. But she also knew how quick soldiers were to vilify anyone whose views did not match their own, and she doubted an idiot had made it onto the Admiralty board–particularly one possessed of pro-geth notions that would ordinarily be counted as political suicide.
"Glad you asked," Shepard said dryly. She placed a small, pyramidal object on the table in front of them. The pyramid unfolded and a red light began blinking at the centre of the object, as a deep, synthesized voice reverberated throughout the room.
"The authority you are referring to is mine."
In the stunned silence that followed, the Admirals took their seats. Xilah, on the other hand, was now practically lounging like a scythecat lazily eyeing its dinner.
"And, I'm sorry–who might we be speaking with?" Admiral Qwib-Qwib asked politely. As though there were any question.
"I am the Shadow Broker. You have already wasted two minutes and thirty-nine seconds of my time. Pray you do not waste more."
"We are a sovereign nation and we will not be threatened by some intranet phantom–"
"I have threatened sovereign nations before. Those nations had planets of their own. Safe harbour to retreat to. You do not. You will consider the Red Dragon the brokerage's voice in this transaction." The red light ceased to blink, and the pyramid folded itself back up. Shepard retrieved the object and placed it in one of the pouches in her armour.
"I would like to thank Xilah'Sonah in her role as counsel," Shepard said, leaning back into a slightly less terrifying position in her seat. "And I would like to apologize to the Admiralty Board. This has become a sensitive matter for all those involved. I appreciate that the information which you have received must be of considerable magnitude.
"However, I also implore you to consider the severity of the transgression we feel has been committed against Tali'Zorah vas Rayya. She has been a close personal friend to me. And she has done remarkable things for the quarian people. She beamed sensitive information from Haestrom–information which even I am not privy to. It was directly thanks to her that so many of your people were saved on Haestrom, as well as the young man Veetor, on Freedom's Progress. She is, by no stretch of the imagination, a war hero, and an inspiring figure to all quarian people."
Tali was lucky that she had been so stunned by everything else that happened, because she was sure she would have given away something when Shepard just outright lied. She had told Shepard about the information from Haestrom, almost immediately–and what was more, on both Freedom's Progress and Haestrom, it had really been Shepard who had saved quarian lives.
Shepard stood up, slowly, calmly, so that it wasn't perceived as a threat, and then walked behind Tali's chair, placing her hands on Tali's shoulders. Tali only realized then how brittle she felt, how she felt as though a strong breeze might cause her to snap, and start weeping, or screaming, or–anything. Shepard squeezed her shoulders, very gently. Tali wished she could thank her–wished she could apologize for being afraid of her, for doubting her. Instead, she tried to meet Admiral vas Neema's gaze, hoping that he still had some fondness for her father–for her father's memory. His only reaction was to turn his head, either because he was purposefully ignoring her, or because he was ashamed, or sad, or–it was just too hard to say.
"Thank you, Dragon, for your input," Xilah said diplomatically. She took her seat neatly and summoned a holographic datapad on the table, passing copies to everyone there. "Now–if we wish to avoid any … unpleasantness, here is what I suggest. Among the least acceptable of this Admiralty's proposals is to deny Tali'Zorah vas Neema her father's kuhluk-sulah. However, we can accept that there is cause for trepidation–if, and only if, my client is permitted to view the offending video file."
"That file is, in a very real sense, a matter of national security." It was Admiral vas Neema who had spoken–but he didn't sound as outraged as before. Just serious, and sad.
"I suggest you create a self-terminating copy of the document. Submit it to a local viewing apparatus, controlled by the Admiralty Board, and allow my client to view the document in a communications sealed room. This way you can ensure Tali is extended her rights while not posing any security risk." Xilah sounded as pleasant and accommodating as she had when Tali had first met her, now–as though she had just been having a minor disagreement over seating arrangements, rather than threatening the Admiralty board with … whatever it was she had threatened them with. "After Tali reviews the document, she can consult with myself and the Red Dragon, and we can determine appropriate action to defend Tali's innocence."
There was a long silence, during which Shepard didn't move from behind Tali. The Admirals turned to one another, and then Admiral vas Qwib-Qwib stood up, looking at them all in turn.
"The Admiralty Board requests we adjourn so that we may discuss this … proposal." His tone revealed nothing, but that was almost a relief after Admiral vas Moreh's outright disdain. After a moment, Tali realized that Xilah and Shepard had already turned to leave, and hurriedly got to her feet. She was shaking, and her knees felt weak. On Haestrom, when she had been sure she would die, she hadn't felt so frightened. Maybe it had been because she needed to be strong for her people. Maybe it was because she had her people on her side.
"Come on, Tali."
It was Garrus. She'd almost forgotten about him–he'd stayed completely silent at the meeting. But he was brushing the back of his hand against her wrist, now, and his voice was the first kind, honest thing she'd heard in hours. She took a deep breath and nodded, looking at the Admirals directly, even if they wouldn't meet her gaze back. Some of that old strength came back to her, the same strength that had let her face down a geth colossus without trembling. She looked at Garrus, and Nicole–at her friends–and left the Admirals in that dark, crowded little room.
xXx
While the Admirals debated, Tali and her companions had been led to another small chamber on the Rayya, what Tali assumed was a similar sort of meeting room, usually used for technical briefs or cross-disciplinary consults. Normally, on a quarian ship, there was an almost ceaseless flow of life, as men and women of all kinds of professions interacted freely, sharing their opinions, or providing advice.
None of that was happening now. When she'd first walked onboard, she'd been so distraught that she hadn't really noticed, but by now Tali was convinced that the Rayya had been stripped to a minimal crew, or perhaps had even had its inhabitants confined to quarters for now. The only people Tali had seen were military, aside from the Admiralty themselves. Strangely, that buoyed her, just a little–perhaps her people didn't hate her so much as she feared. Perhaps it was just the soldiers who they had passed by, who had after all been paying more attention to the famously murderous human and the fully armoured turian.
"It's been quite some time now," Garrus murmured, as he paced back and forth. Both he and Shepard had opted to stand–quarians were rather light by nature and while the chairs that had been arranged for them in the actual meeting room had been tailored to their species, either of them might have buckled a standard quarian seat. Tali, for her part, was sitting at the table, projecting a screen from her omnitool onto the flat surface and writing messages for the people she knew–surely, even if she was exiled, the Admiralty would allow her to pass along these last goodbyes? Xilah was also seated, but she was so immersed in her holoscreens that Tali felt little impetus to interrupt her.
"We need to be patient," Shepard said, her voice unusually taut, almost emotional. Tali looked up in alarm, but of course Shepard noticed. She waved a hand. "Sorry. Not you. Helmets don't agree with me anymore."
"Your scar," Garrus hissed, visibly wincing as he realized. Tali was utterly mystified by this, but before she could ask any questions, the door to the room opened. Tali had been expecting a soldier, or maybe one of the Admiralty board–she had to practically stop herself from shrieking in relief when she saw Shala'Raan standing there. Shala'Raan looked tired, but pleased to see her at least, from the relaxed posture in her shoulders and the slight tilt of her head.
Well, strictly speaking, it was Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, but she had always had only one name to Tali.
"Auntie Raan!" She didn't actually run forward and tackle the quarian woman, but it was a near thing–the relief she felt when she saw someone who she knew was on her side nearly brought her to her knees. "I didn't think you'd be here!"
"I almost wasn't," she said, moving forward to sweep Tali into a close, tight hug. "The other Admirals wanted me to remain on the Tonbay, for fear that my personal attachment to you would affect my judgement."
"So, why are you here?" Tali asked, as she released Shala'Raan.
"Well, let me just say that you have friends in … considerably high places," the Admiral said, nodding in Xilah's direction. Tali only now realized that the lawyer had gotten up from her seat and was standing politely on one side of the table, well apart from Tali, Garrus, and Shepard. "It seems the Admiralty has been dealing with an inundation of messages from multiple law firms connected to a legal entity known as Noreni Law. Fortunately, I was already enroute to the Rayya to speak my mind anyway when I was asked to intercede." There was a very wry undercurrent to Shala's voice which indicated that while she didn't entirely approve of Xilah's methods, they had certainly been convenient. "I never agreed to the … unusual arrangement the Admiralty sought, but I also have to speak to you as a member of the Admiralty Board. And Tali, I am afraid the contents of your father's kuhluk-sulah are, at the very least, massively controversial, if not outright damning."
"Tali can hardly speak to the validity of that claim, without having viewed the document in question." It was Xilah who had spoken, and while she had relaxed into the polite, friendly register she had employed when she had introduced herself to Tali in the first place, there was still a challenging undercurrent to her voice. The woman was a knife in a silk sheath. To Tali's relief, though, Shala'Raan nodded.
"I quite agree. It has always been my opinion that, however sensitive the information we have received may be, we cannot wield its shadow as a bludgeon. Unfortunately, not all the Admiralty agrees with me–some believe…" and here, Shala'Raan paused, as though she were struggling to find the right words. When she resumed, Shala approached Tali, and took her hands, just the way she had when Tali had left for her Pilgrimage so many years ago. "Tali, some believe that your father was not only a sympathiser to the geth, but an active traitor. They think that you helped him betray the Flotilla. That is why they had no compunctions about exiling you–they assume you already knew of your guilt."
For a long time Tali felt as though her Auntie Raan had spoken in another language–as though she had unleashed a string of sheer nonsense syllables, nonsense that nonetheless burned against her mind and settled like a noose around her heart. She wasn't sure when she had sat down, pushing her chair away from the table–was even less sure when Garrus had knelt beside her, kneeling silently at her side. The gesture was alien to her, but it was comforting, just the same. He didn't speak, but he was there.
"Suffice to say, I do not share that belief. And judging by the shock you have exhibited–and, if I may say, the actions of your friends–I think it has become increasingly difficult for the Board to espouse the belief that you are secretly an insidious, geth-sympathizing traitor. You see, to maintain that narrative, they now need to believe you have also been able to successfully hoodwink the Red Dragon," Shala'Raan said wryly, nodding her head deferentially in Shepard's direction. Shepard actually let out a brief huff of laughter, but didn't say anything. "That, or the Red Dragon is also a secret geth sympathizer, which is rather hard to reckon with the impressive number of geth armatures she has obliterated."
In the silence that followed, Tali reached out for Garrus's hand–when he offered it, he nodded so slightly he might have been a quarian at a funeral.
"So, what now?" Tali asked. Shala'Raan brusquely pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table opposite her, before she sent something from her omnitool to the flat surface of the table itself–Tali hadn't realized, but it must have had some kind of projection software.
"Now I am going to tell you that, seven days ago, the Admiralty intercepted a laser pulse data packet from the Thorne System in Hawking Eta. At first, we weren't sure what we were seeing–the communications technology was strange, almost alien. Then a researcher working aboard the Moreh thought to apply an algorithmic extrapolation to previously used geth communications–and at that point, we were able to interpret the data."
"Is that why you thought my father is–was–working with the geth? Because he communicated using geth technology?"
"If only," Shala said, her shoulders slumping sadly. She shook her head. "When we untangled the data, we realized it had been beamed from a structure orbiting Mnemosyne, a structure which appears similar–if not identical–to the geth flagship that attacked the Citadel in '83. And what's more … well, you'll see."
Without any ceremony, Shala'Raan hit play. And for the last time, Tali saw her father alive.
