Tali breathed in shakily, failing to steady herself. The revelation over Jane's identity shocked her, forcing the past year of grief to the forefront of her mind. What began as absolute joy, quickly transformed into a burning desire to speak with Shepard, to tell him the news, to see the look of relief in his eyes. She'd been so busy helping her father disseminate the geth data, her pilgrimage gift, her duty, that mourning became secondary.

Her sobs boomed within her helmet, the confines amplifying the sound, fueling her further. Realizing the futility, she paused her suit's built-in cleaning response, before it did nothing but waste resources, and pulled up Shepard's personal email. It was a rare day of privacy, with her roommates occupied on the agriculture ship, or off on the trading deck, giving her a moment of solitude.

From: Talizorah_Vas_Neema
To: MindoirMaws2154

John,

It's strange writing to you as if you're still here, not lost in the beyond. My people often preserve the memories and personality imprints of our ancestors, I'm not sure what humans do for their dead but... I wish I had your gray box, if only to hear your voice again. Although, I suppose The Alliance would never have permitted you to own such a thing, given all the classified information that was stuck in your head.

I always knew my pilgrimage would come to an end, and I'd have to leave the Normandy and you behind. But I never imagined it'd end the way it did – with fire and devastation all around and you lost to cold, empty space.

You were more than just my captain. Unlike so many others, you treated me as an equal. And you never let me down. That time I got a suit puncture to the chest, I really thought I was done for – it's not like a human ship would be equipped with clean room facilities. How can a bullet wound like that be treated if I'm stuck in a suit? But you evaced me from Mavigon so fast my head spun in my helmet. And then I discovered why Liara had been relocated, all so I'd have a treatment room should I be injured. I suspect you had Chakwas read up on quarian physiology too – all my medical needs were met and I recovered from my injuries within days. The fleet couldn't have done a more thorough job.

Garrus always attributed your care for the team as a turian sense of honor. But I saw a man who cares for all his people because that's who he is. Because I was one of you, a shipmate, an equal, you anticipated my needs and saved my life more times than I can count. You couldn't possibly know the significance of that to a quarian, where I come from shipmates are family and I loved you in a way I'm not sure will ever be replicated.

But you were not so kind to yourself. There's an old, quarian proverb that reminded me of you, the way you kept everyone at arm's length, refusing to allow anyone near for fear of losing them too.

A man who never loves, gives no hostage to fortune. (1)

It's about a quarian captain who was the sole survivor of a hull breach to his ship. He lost everyone he knew and loved that day – and refused to love again. Their lives were his responsibility and he failed. Instead, he committed vasa'viiya by entering the service of the Death Legion and sacrificed himself in an effort to bring justice to the pirates who were responsible for the travesty – the ultimate sacrifice for those he lost. It doesn't translate quite right, but vasa'viiya is like a samurai sense of honor in death. Except, instead of falling on their swords, the Death Legion go on suicide runs. But that's a quarian for you, pragmatic til the end. Usually, only exiles join. Yet his shame was so great, so burdensome, that he couldn't allow himself to live.

You were deployed, repeatedly, into borderline impossible situations intent on either destroying the enemy or die trying. Shortly after I joined the Normandy, I researched you. Maybe that was dishonest of me, going behind your back instead of asking outright. Yet I burned to know what made you tick – how you always pushed forward, achieving the impossible as if it were a mere annoyance. Drive like that is never born from happiness. And I could see the pain behind your terse manner.

I looked forward to the day you found it in you to forgive yourself and move on from the horrors you suffered on Mindoir. To forgive yourself for not reaching your sister in time.
Even though I knew it would never be me you loved, everyone should have that at least once in their life.

I can't possibly tell you how my heart breaks knowing you never felt that before you died. So I send my love into the void, Shepard, my captain, I hope your ancestors are embracing you now.

And if one is missing, the one who was lost, that is because she is alive, free, and well. And your incredible force, your rolaeo'miaa, is within her.

With all my love,

Tali

She encrypted the message to Shepard's DNA, ensuring no one else could access it, and pressed send. Within minutes a ship-wide alert sounded, letting the populace know it was fifteen minutes from dinnertime. Most, her roommates included, would head to the mess hall immediately. Already, she could hear her neighbors scuffling, gathering their young one. But she wanted another moment of solitude, of silence and memories. Initiating the shower cycle program, the spigots protracted, and she laid back enjoying the hot steam caressing her body. As the nozzles blew away any sweat or grime produced throughout the day, she couldn't help but imagine that the pressure was Shepard's warm breath dancing across her skin.

She closed her eyes, reciting a quarian funeral rite reserved for their captains, wondering how it'd sound, translated from Khelish to his native tongue.

"O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the ships a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! My Captain!

This arm beneath your head!

It is some dream that on the deck,

You've fallen cold and dead.

But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen, cold and dead. (2)

I'll never forget you, Shepard." A cry into the empty air, a final sob as the shower-cycle ended, and Tali steadied herself, setting off for the mess hall.

A/N: In this universe, gray-box technology was invented by the quarians, who revere their ancestors. In an effort to preserve their wisdom for eternity, they try to upload personality imprints and memories after someone passes on. However, after the geth rebellion, this technology was banned.

Citations:

(1) Altered Carbon

(2) Walt Whitman