Requiem of the Goddess

by Yoshiyuki Ly

Goddess of mind, goddess of heart - closed-off without consent, She cannot flourish; unlocked to the universe in trust and control, She protects from all outside influences. Only one sits atop the throne of Shepard's subjectivity. Ashley/FemShep, Liara/FemShep. Miranda/FemShep, Aria/FemShep. Power plays, intense loves. Renegon Infiltrator FemShep. Spans the Mass Effect Trilogy.

35. Ingénue - The Nomad

"A Different World" by Sad Dad ft. Judy Alice Lee

XXXV. Ingénue – The Nomad

(Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya)

After time adrift among open stars,
Along tides of light and through shoals of dust,
I will return to where I began.

Drifting on as a nomad, even now, I could never know if this poem made sense for me anymore.

Drifting through some indistinct place. Never knowing where I belonged. Uncertain if I was worthy to be on this stage, viewed of points, viewed of my perspective. Not believing in what I had to offer, in speaking my truth to myself, with myself, somehow for my heart to open up to so many watching eyes. Numerous as the stars I'd drifted through before, and drifted through now on the Flotilla, all alight in untold magnitudes. Yet the matter of my own importance to this cause was still unclear to me. Shoals obscuring, darkening, thickening. Dusting across these answers I should have had by now. Kicking up more questions over whether I should have acted on this or not. This truest feeling deep in my soul:

This knowledge that I had given up before. Relegating myself to the background when I didn't need to do that. Not quite believing in my own voice, and holding it close to my chest. Losing my voice all the same, while others talked over me—for me. Defining me in ways that I couldn't hope to change before.

I began this life of mine so far away from the truth. Away from the light. Away from that sun I loved.

How fitting that only the hottest, most dangerous rays of sunlight felt like where I belonged.

I knew that I would never be her first priority. That ship had taken off by now. Sailed, or however her peoples' saying went—drifted far, far away. As if it had ever been present in the first place. And yet I couldn't help feeling that I had a place somehow. A place in her heart. Or it was just wishful thinking…

I didn't think I would be here, open and exposed, if it was only a fleeting wish. Like when she was dead.

I would never know for certain. Not until I made up my mind about this: about how to move forward.

Right now, this persistent hum of the Rayya's engines at work reminded me that I was at home. Safe.

Or at least, I should have been. I should have felt at home; I should have felt safe.

I should have, but I didn't. Not anymore. Not since before my Pilgrimage.

Not since I'd witnessed the rest of the galaxy for myself, finding that sun burning brighter than all.

More persistent were the sounds of Joker and Garrus sleeping away along the mats on the floor, here in my room, not far from my bed. Covered-up as they were in their breather suits and helmets, I could still hear them. Joker most of all. His snoring could've woken Father down the hall. Instead, I couldn't sleep.

With or without Joker's snoring, I doubt I would have been able to sleep anyway. For some reason, I hadn't felt all that tired lately. I wasn't sure if this was just stress keeping me awake with insomnia, or if something else had actually changed me. Sometimes I would get truly tired and sleep, like normal. Other times, like now, I could stay up for several days in a row and not feel any different. The same with eating. I usually didn't have an appetite these days. I hated having to skirt around this problem with my father. I would eat whatever he brought home from the liveship stocks, whether I was hungry or not. I didn't need to give him a reason to go back to interrogating me about every little thing. Never again.

I did find it strange that this phenomenon started after Freedom's Progress.

After Shepard had woken up. Once she was back with us again. Even if it was intermittent like this.

If there was some connection going on…then maybe I had a bigger role to play than I once thought.

As I lay in bed, staring up at the steel of my room's ceiling, I began hoping again. Believing in the promise that Liara had given me so long ago… That my patience would pay off one day.

That promise of hers had sustained me, even in her death. Even in Shepard's death. While I lived here.

I had spent the past two years stuck in this childhood room of mine, still living under my father's care. Elevated, in a way, above the other quarians who lived here on the Rayya, my birth ship, as well as every other civilian ship in the Fleet. They all lived with next-to-no privacy, sharing open living areas out in the crew decks, with only cubicle-like spaces to call their own. Entire families would live in a single unit, with only sleeping mats as beds, and their sole belongings comprising of vid screens or radios taking up the meager amount of space around them. Actually having a door to one's private area was even a rarity—everyone had to settle for decorative sheets to mark which cubicle belonged to their family. Compared to them, I was practically the royalty they would often accuse me of being. Having an actual set of rooms sealed within a home-like space aboard a quarian ship was unheard of—except for members of the Conclave, our civilian government with representatives from each ship, and the Admiralty Board, our judicial military leaders who oversaw the Conclave. Even ship captains often had the same sorts of living spaces as the rest of the citizens. No matter their influence in our strange government breed of martial law and democracy, the captains weren't afforded this luxury. It was only for people like me, since my father was an admiral. Privileged.

This simple, square room of mine was nothing like what other species were used to. I didn't like how cold it was, in this steel—without my temperature programs within my enviro-suit, I usually had to bundle up under a few blankets over my bed. But it was something. I had a soothing view outside the window to the rest of the stars and the Flotilla's ships—and Shepard's ship docked out there in the far distance, waiting for me as my other home. I also had enough space on the shelves to set out my memories of the past—mostly sentimental collections of machines I had tinkered with in my younger days. Some model ships as well, including one of the original Normandy, glittering in this gentle starlight trickling in through the window. And I had a few pictures lined up there, reminding me of my loves.

Feeling nostalgic all of a sudden, I got out of my bed, wandering over to the shelves. Over to those pictures.

I stared at them while Joker and Garrus slept on behind me. Doing my best to ignore Joker's snoring.

Looking at these through the violet lens of my mask…it always reminded me of my confinements. How I wasn't able to live freely in my own space. None of us had that freedom as quarians. Even this picture of my mother: she still wore her suit as well. These violets looked so beautiful on her. The shape of her hood had such an elegance about it, mirroring the long hair I knew she had underneath. Only the kindness radiating from her could make her stand out from most other quarian women around. Ever so kind, always looking out for others… Never putting herself first. Forever thinking of the greater good.

My mother had embodied the essence of our people. Our sense of unity and community. How we stayed together, sacrificing for one another. Charity, closeness, community. We had this community of ours in unity, to make up for our wandering ways. Even though the geth had driven our ancestors from the homeworld, we still had each other. Our sense of family was our truest spirit as a people. Unbroken.

Meanwhile, this photograph of my father with me, about ten years ago while I'd worn my old suit…it had never looked right to me. Even though he was standing next to me, directly, it seemed like he was so far away. These variants of red and steely gray along his squarer enviro-suit for quarian males—it did a lot to define his personality. His strictness, his distance. His stark contrast to everything my mother was. I knew their love had been an obvious case of opposites attract. But his stern seriousness had never reached me in a good way. Always in a cold way. Extremely cold, like my room. Like this house of ours.

Father's obsession with his research reminded me of this cold.

As if he loved his work more than he loved me.

In trying to do the right thing—never putting myself first—I had tried to live up to him. Only recently did it feel like I had finally met his expectations, earning his approval. I wasn't sure if it was worth the cost.

In short, my peoples' conservative, utilitarian, isolationist culture could get tiresome at times.

Having accepted our way of life with a proud defeatism, most quarians went through life on autopilot. They had their routines; their expectations to fulfill from their families, like doing well in school. Taking a job as part of the military, or a ship guard, or a pilot, or a mechanic, an agricultural engineer for creating food for the liveships, or some other function to serve the Fleet. Then marrying and mating with someone from a different ship, to encourage genetic diversity and prevent any harmful birth defects. And then settling down in one of those cubicles, bringing a child or two into our already-crowded ships. But no one ever grew up with big motivations to change the world. We had lost our world. And so, many of my people had lost their way. Settling for less in fearful ignorance. Too scared to dream—to dare to believe in any greater ambitions.

They had no imagination.

My father had left me to raise myself in his expectations for me. Imagination was all I'd had to survive.

I had grown to envy humans and their sense of individuality. Even their selfishness. Shepard's powerful sense of individualism had drawn me to her from the start. The way she never allowed anyone to define her, forever writing her own story, on her own terms—I'd learned those lessons from her. Over time.

I'd learned them the most after her victory, after the Battle at the Citadel. And here was the picture on my shelf, defining that time for me. After she'd disabled Sovereign, and the Citadel fleets had destroyed the Reaper, she'd returned to the ship. Not caring about anyone else, for once, except for Shepard—I'd hurried to hug her first, feeling relieved and ecstatic all at once that she was okay. Looking at this now, at the way she'd smiled in that attractive calm of hers, holding me tight—I remembered the way I had cried, then. Clinging to her. Clinging to my rare selfishness in basking in her while everyone watched.

Ashley had taken this picture of us. It was the only thing left of her that I allowed myself to keep. I had sent this to Shepard, not mentioning the photographer. Keeping it a secret seemed to be the best idea.

Speaking of secrets…I found the most relevant picture here, sitting next to the frame of me with the guys—Joker, Garrus, Wrex, and even Kaidan—from about a year ago when we'd all met up on the Citadel, at the Citadel Tower with all the beautiful gardens and cherry trees around. And without Ashley, on purpose, since she had unfortunately been busy with her N7 training at the time. Right beside that photo was one of many I'd had of Liara and me:

We'd chosen to commemorate this important day. Shepard's thirtieth birthday, on Thessia during that pivotal shore leave of ours. In the picture, I was in Liara's room with her, after she'd returned home from being gone all day. We'd had our conversation through private messages, where she had told me the initial information I'd longed to hear…about how and why Shepard needed me in her life, and not just in a sexual way. Initially, I had been overjoyed to learn the news. And so I had taken off my mask, actually letting Liara see my face outside of the picture I'd given her before. Actually getting to smile with her, with Liara's pretty blue face right next to me in this picture—I'd adored the experience. As a sweet, accidental thing between us, Liara had given me my first kiss that day…even though I'd gotten sick with a fever for a couple of days afterward, having to hide the truth from everyone else. That breezy, gentle feeling from her kiss, like standing at an ocean's edge, had stayed with me through some of my sexual dreams over the years: that next step of her melding with me, embracing eternity, and more. Confusing me, sometimes. Keeping me safe at other times, bundling me in a warm blanket of nostalgia.

Not long after we'd taken this picture, reality had set in:

The reality that I'd had all of this knowledge—to possibly seduce Shepard over to me—and I couldn't use it. Knowledge about her reluctances, too. Knowing how she could have had me, if she would stop treating me like some child. Coddling me. Babysitting me. Yet she had chosen to run off with Ashley instead.

Drinking alcohol had felt like the best remedy at the time. Drinking, and drinking—thinking about how I could have had Shepard in the palm of my hand. If only I had appealed to her subconscious sense of vanity…by showing her my face. By letting her see that we quarians were—somehow—almost human in appearance, at least with our initial shapes and skin tones. Aside from our tri-fingered hands. And our bright eyes. And the lines, the markings over our skin. But she would have recognized the wavy length of my dark hair and admired me for it. She would have appreciated the length of my face, the soft structure and the youth there; the proportions of my facial features compared to other human women.

Shepard would have found me beautiful as a collective whole.

Perhaps even beautiful enough to forget about Ashley—to sweep me off my feet and take me instead.

So I had drank and drank at that club, Dark Goddess, trying to forget my bitter anger and regrets, only to end up blackout drunk. To this day, I still couldn't remember anything from that night. Embarrassingly.

Ashley had probably assumed that I was jealous of her.

If I hadn't had my suit in the way, then she would have been jealous of me. Not the other way around!

Hell, even Joker had nearly choked once he'd seen this picture of me yesterday. Garrus had cleared his throat in that awkward way of his, too. They had both made some strange attempts at calling me attractive. And then I'd forced them to change the subject, catching me up on the rest of the drama.

But it was painful to look at this now. To look at Liara now. Because of what I knew about her today.

That drama with her and Ashley. Their insane rivalry. The one I should have been able to spot for myself.

Having all of my suspicions confirmed in this retroactive way—it was like reopening an old wound after I'd convinced myself that it had long-since healed. The three of us had spent all night going over this, reopening my wounds…and inflicting new ones. While I had been relieved to learn about Miranda's involvement in saving Shepard, I couldn't help feeling jealous of her. Automatically. For obvious reasons.

And then that had turned into a painful confession to Joker and Garrus about my feelings for Shepard. Finally coming clean to them after all this time. Confirming their thoughts, since they'd guessed as much.

I could never tell them about what Liara had shared with me.

I could never tell anyone about this. Not even Shepard.

Keeping this promise to Liara, to keep this between us—it was a lot like keeping our friendship together.

Because without this knowledge she had given me…I would have killed myself. After Shepard had died, I'd only had Liara. Seeing Liara's dead body in that morgue…that would have been it. I'd pictured it so clearly: finding some way to shut off my suit's breather functions. Suffocating myself to death. Ending it all right then and there.

But I had chosen to hold on. To not give up. I had chosen to live with the hope Liara had given me. That knowledge. All because I couldn't stand the thought of losing that hope through death somehow. Losing it; having it slip away from me in that unknown. I couldn't know what would have happened to my hope in the cold darkness of death. And so I had chosen to hold on to it. Holding on to life that way.

Everyday life, as it was now, as I returned to bed, lying down there once more.

These simplicities—I used my omni-tool to check the comm network for the Flotilla. I found the most recent news updates. The Conclave's representatives were apparently still dealing with this recent change about our society. Ever since Cerberus attacked the Idenna, our citizens felt helpless, and not nearly as safe here in the Migrant Fleet as they did before. The Admiralty Board was also torn on how to proceed with this sudden change in public opinion: the new debates about whether we should fight the geth to take back Rannoch, our homeworld, make the costly efforts to colonize elsewhere, or to continue doing nothing.

I knew that this would blow out of proportion somehow. Someday. Quarian politics were not quiet at all.

Quiet for a moment, before a change: Joker's snoring stopped, before he suddenly yawned. Loudly. As he stretched upon the sleeping mat, groaning over the aches in his bones, Garrus shifted around, sighing. I had a feeling that Garrus might not have been asleep after all. At least for the past hour or so.

"Hey, Tali, you're awake!" said Joker, a bit chipper. "Couldn't sleep, huh? All that drama got you wired?"

Grumpy, Garrus answered for me, "What with all that snoring of yours, it's no wonder she's still up."

"Oh, yeah… Sorry, man. Forgot to warn you. I'm used to sleeping alone, you know?"

Garrus caught the slight sadness behind Joker's tone. "I understand what you mean. No worries, then."

"I was just checking the news," I told them. "News from the Flotilla, anyway. Everyone's still debating."

"Sounds like a big deal," noticed Joker. "If your people haven't shut up about it by now, then something's gotta change. One of these days. Didn't you say it's not sustainable for you guys to stay out here on these ships forever? Or was that some kinda rumor?"

"I'm actually not sure if it's true or not. I've heard the rumors spreading among the ship captains. They think that the Flotilla won't survive over the next century or so. Our population is stable, but we can only add, repair, and maintain so many ships at a time. We're already overcrowded to an extreme. So, it's possible that there's a lot more to this rumor. I wish they would come out and say something already."

Garrus knew: "I'm sure they don't want to cause a panic over this. There's already a fierce debate going about whether your people should take action. If they knew there was a time limit, it could start chaos."

"You're right," I agreed. "I don't like being kept in the dark, that's all. I feel so helpless."

Joker made the obvious transition, "You know, speaking of being kept in the dark…"

I turned away from them, pulling my blanket over my head. "Not this again, Joker…"

"Aw, c'mon, Tali! After everything you told us about Shepard, did you seriously expect us to drop this?"

Garrus added, "I'd have to say the same. Sounds like you feel pretty strongly about her. This isn't just going to go away. Why not do something about it?"

"There's nothing I can do!" I argued, my already-filtered voice muffled beneath the blanket.

"Well, that's not the right attitude to have. We know she likes you back. There's a vibe she gives off."

"Yes, and she's with Miranda! You said they're dating. They're happy together. I'm not a homewrecker!"

Joker sounded much too sly: "Hey, no one said you have to break them up…"

"I am not having an affair with Shepard!"

Garrus insisted, "You don't have to do that, either."

"Yeah, hello?" teased Joker. "Ever heard of threesomes? Special arrangements? You can get it."

The arrangement that Liara and I had planned on having with Shepard…once Ashley was out of the way.

Of course I knew what they meant.

But I stayed quiet anyway. I felt much too uncertain if Miranda would ever allow such a thing. She seemed like the possessive type. Then again, I didn't know her at all. I only knew her story that Joker and Garrus had told me: about how she had smartly manipulated Ashley for two years before defeating her. And I did respect her intelligence. I respected her a lot for what she'd done. Yet I had a problem with her job.

Cerberus didn't sit right with me. I didn't like the idea of Shepard being so close to them, through Miranda. I worried about them betraying her somehow. Taking advantage of her affections in that way.

I definitely planned on sharing my concerns with her soon. Anything more than that…I wasn't sure yet.

Garrus went on, "You're not fooling us, Tali. You have way more power than you think. Shepard would do almost anything for you. Hell, even Zaeed knows it. I bet that's why he finally shut up last night."

Joker encouraged as well, "You've got this. Just have a talk with her. Cash in on that confessional time she offered before. Then get some negotiations in with Miranda—you know. Work that magic of yours!"

Even as I removed this blanket from my head, conceding their point that way, I still wasn't sure…

I told them, "I don't know what magic you're talking about."

"It's your honesty," noted Garrus. "Your sincerity. You're authentic. It's not something you can buy."

"Be honest doesn't sound like the best advice to me. There are too many risks involved. You know that."

Joker chuckled. "You'll change your mind once you see Shepard again. I guarantee you. Go for it!"

"Definitely," settled Garrus. "Hopefully she wakes up soon. She's strong. She'll get through this—"

Right as he said that, we all received an alert to our omni-tools, from the new chat room.

Since Miranda was a moderator with admin privileges, per Garrus, she'd created a new channel, separate from the main room. Strictly for announcements. Keeping things organized, as she would.

My heart skipped a few beats once I saw what this was:

[11:30:00] Miranda: Everyone, I'd like your attention. Since we're all here in one place, I'll use this as a way to make important team announcements. Please gather in the comm room for a meeting—at exactly noon. We'll have our formal introductions with our new teammates. I apologize for the short notice. Shepard and Jack have woken up now. I figured you would want to see them as soon as possible.

Joker blurted out, "Holy shit! Already?!"

"We've gotta go!" said Garrus, hurrying to his feet. "Double-time it if we want to be early!"

Struggling to even stand up from his sleeping mat, Joker protested, "Dude, you know I can't run!"

Bypassing the problem, Garrus picked Joker up. "Then let's move!"

"What the hell, man?! Ugh, this is embarrassing!"

I giggled over this strangeness, leading the way back out of my house. "Come on, let's hurry!"

As we rushed down the hall to the sitting room, we found my father there. He sat at the only table in the middle of the small area, having a light meal while he pored over a bunch of datapads. Working even when he wasn't at work, like always. But then came the mini-stampede of me running ahead, with Garrus following after me while carrying a complaining Joker in his arms. We dashed to the front door.

Father stood up with a start, barking at us, "What is this?! Tali, where are you and your friends going?"

"Sorry, Father!" I called, nearly out the door. "We're heading to the Normandy for an important meeting! We can't be late! I promise I'll be back later on!"

"Apologies, Sir!" added Garrus. "It was great meeting you!"

Joker was also polite enough to say, "Thanks for letting us hang out, Admiral! It's been real!"

We escaped outside to the Rayya's crew deck before Father could think to scold us over the commotion.

This joyful energy between friends, we kept as we rushed to the freight elevator. Hurrying through the crowded crew deck proved to be a chore. But Garrus and Joker laughed with me anyway. We did our best to weave around the various other quarians out and about, speaking with their neighbors, or on their way to other places on the Rayya. All those cubicles populated the place as much as the quarians did. The actual walls of the ship that would have separated real rooms—they had been torn down, making room for this so-called shantytown of a place. Colored sheets decorated the area more than anything else, serving as those doors to the cubicles housing handfuls of quarians at a time. No privacy, and no separation from the sounds of my friends and me causing this mild disturbance as we ran ahead.

It was safe to say we received some questionable looks from the civilians and ship guards we passed by.

From beneath their masks, anyway.

They gossiped after us, clearly wondering what all the fuss was about. As always, they recognized me as the admiral's daughter—and they knew who Joker and Garrus were, as part of my team on the Normandy, and honored guests here aboard my birth ship. For once in my life, I couldn't care about their whispering and wondering. Not anymore. Not now that I was on my way to see Shepard again; now that she was finally awake. This swell of excitement in my heart rushed through me, pushing me to rush faster, rush stronger. Such an invincible smile stayed on my face even as I breathed quicker from within my helmet. Nothing could breach me at a time like this. And I'd definitely needed this feeling.

Down the freight elevator, we took a shortcut to dock seven, where the Normandy awaited us.

Passing through the airlock again, I was glad to be back in this bright space, much brighter than the original ship had been. This sterile feeling hadn't escaped me last time. When I'd introduced Joker and Garrus to the Rayya's Captain Kar'Danna, he'd said he was very impressed with how clean Shepard's ship was, almost comparing her to a quarian. So that had helped things go much smoother for bringing honored guests aboard the Fleet. We hadn't really had any visitors since the Cerberus incident with the Idenna.

But no matter my own roots, the Normandy felt like home to me. Welcoming me back after so long.

I allowed this feeling to carry me through. Even as Garrus and Joker were able to remove their helmets upon returning to the ship. While we headed through the command deck to the comm room, I felt these differences. How I couldn't just take off my own suit, or even my mask to pull down my hood. Not here. Not with so many of the crew breathing in this space, existing within this unfiltered air. Maybe if I was in a single room, alone, or with one particular person, I would have been fine. But this was too big of a risk.

Instead, I remained confined. My own skin trapped within this flexible material. Everything about my systems, my senses regulated by programs and filters. Suit seals and sections and spots of plated armor keeping me safe from harm. Harm as simple as the air around us, harmless to everyone except me.

As we reached the lab to head through the hall, we found Mordin wrapping up his latest task. I had met him yesterday while Joker and Garrus had given me a tour of the ship. Mordin had made me laugh with his oddities, speaking the way he did, as if his voice couldn't keep up with his mind. I liked that about him.

Mordin smiled once he saw me. "Ah, Tali! Good to see you, Joker, and Garrus early. Was just on way to comm room now. Perfect timing."

"Hello again, Mordin," I greeted, smiling back. We all headed through the hall together. "Still working on the seeker swarm countermeasure for us?"

"Yes, made recent breakthrough! Should have protections ready in next few days. Forecasts promising."

While Garrus and Joker continued chatting with Mordin, heading into the comm room, I stopped for a moment. Possibly overhearing something. I'd already had my auditory programs tuned quite high, improving my hearing from inside my suit. I preferred to hear as much as I possibly could from my surroundings, even if it didn't seem all that important. Back on the original ship, I hadn't had the luxury of this program, as it had been too expensive at the time. But Father had secured plenty of inheritance money for me since I'd completed my Pilgrimage. So I finally got to live up to my supposed privilege.

Privileged in hearing, now, I shuffled closer to the armory door. Noticing that it was locked. I could hear Zaeed's crass, booming voice coming from within the comm room, so he wasn't in here still working at the last minute. No, there was someone else past the door instead. Two people, speaking together…

Eavesdropping, I could hear the sounds of Miranda's refined accent through my translation program.

In response, I could also hear Shepard's more neutral accent. The depths of her fine voice, subdued.

She tried to whisper, despite their privacy, "…Miranda, what's this all of a sudden? What's going on?"

"I told you," replied Miranda. "I'm thinking over what I said on our first date. About Tali." About me…? "I believe I'm willing to be more open-minded. You're going to spend time with her soon. You and I technically aren't together yet. You're free to do what you want. So, I'd like you to be honest with her."

Shepard seemed to be speechless.

Just as I was…

Shifting sounds, and I heard Miranda grab onto the smooth, thick material of Shepard's stealth suit. Holding her close, she emphasized: "But don't you leave me. I'm not Liara. If you run away like you did before, I will chase you down. Relentlessly. I won't abide by any repeats of the past. Do you understand?"

"Yes, babe," came Shepard's docile response. "I only wish you would let us talk about this some more."

"There isn't much to discuss. Not like that. You already know that I expect to come first, regardless of whatever happens with you and her. I need to be your main priority. As long as you keep this going, then I'll rethink what I'll allow—for our eventual scenes together. I'm beginning to see her differently as well."

"Differently how…?"

"I'm well-aware of how and why you crave her so. You are a shark. You smell her blood in the water."

Heart nearly pounding out of my suit, I breathed harder.

Shepard wouldn't confirm or deny those words.

"Not only that," continued Miranda, "But I also see the dynamic for what it is. You know how innocent she is, with her intelligence. Tali is completely susceptible to you. Malleable. Impressionable. You can shape her however you want…by doing what she wants. Giving her what she needs. Pleasing her. You are the powerful authority figure in her life. Eclipsing her real father. Maybe I'd like to be your partner in that."

I could not believe what I was hearing.

Especially once Shepard said, "Hmm…I get what you're saying. I've been holding back a lot with her. Trying to keep my urges away. I can't take advantage of her. And I don't know how she'll react to this."

"I have a feeling Tali will react positively. You can trust her to be mature about this. Give her a chance."

"All right, babe. Let me think about this some more. I'll stay in here for a little bit longer. You go on ahead."

"Of course," breathed Miranda—and then I heard the supple clasping of her lips over Shepard's, burning me with everything except envy. More arousal crept through me instead, smoldering. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye for now."

"Bye, then…"

Only once I heard Miranda's heels clicking my way did I snap out of this daze.

I rushed into the nearby comm room.

Short of breath, I found everyone else in here as normal. Standing around the center table, caught up in their easy conversation, I tried to blend in with the ambiance all around. Mordin, Garrus, and Joker were on the right side of the table from my view, while…Legion, Zaeed, and Jack were across from them on the left side. All shifted in a direction closer to the head of the table, opposite the door, I assumed Shepard would take that place once she joined us. Taking that place with her powerful authority…

Thinking about Miranda's strangely accurate assessments—I felt so much smaller than I was.

Much, much smaller as I took this place by Garrus' side. Barely listening as he laughed with the others.

Jack was the only other quiet one in the room. She had her tattooed arms folded. Observing everyone.

Observing me, too, while my heart and mind continued to race. While I remembered the past:

Eavesdropping like that had sent me back over two years. Back to the original Normandy. Back when I was that voyeur, listening to Shepard have sex with Liara or Ashley. Or just overhearing Ashley getting off in her room, alone, while she muffled herself against her pillows, screaming out Shepard's name. No matter what, I would picture myself in their place instead, my imagination running wild all the while.

And now…so much had changed. Things were so different.

I had no idea what I would do once I was alone with Shepard again.

In his natural attentiveness, Garrus seemed to notice that I wasn't all there at the moment.

So much taller, he gave me a head pat. "Hey, where'd you run off to? Forget something outside?"

"Err, yes," I said, knowing he didn't believe me. "I…got distracted. I'll tell you about it later… Maybe."

"Sure thing, Tali. Whatever you're comfortable with."

I was relieved that he chose not to press the issue in front of everyone.

And everyone's conversation dimmed somewhat once Miranda entered the room. Strutting over to the table in her confidence, she didn't seem to mind that everyone continued talking while she was around. She didn't expect them to go completely silent. Not right now. They only quieted down in respect for her presence. So sophisticated. So professional, with this aura she gave off. So much power about her, too.

I could certainly see why Shepard had risked her life to protect this woman.

I saw it more once Miranda approached me—with all of her attractive power.

"I'm glad you made it, Tali," she spoke. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to stand elsewhere. Closer to the head of the table. At least for today. Shepard needs to see you properly while she welcomes you."

"I'll do that, then," I complied. Trying to keep these nerves out of my voice. "Thank you, Miranda."

As I followed her instructions, I expected her to be the closest one. At that exact, adjacent spot.

So I stood next to Mordin, leaving this free space for her on my right side.

But then, completely unexpected, I felt Miranda's gloved hand along the back of my shoulder. Guiding me closer, over, to where her usual spot was. Something about this soft touch of hers felt uncharacteristic on her end. As if Miranda wouldn't do this with just anyone. She chose to do it with me. Even going so far as to situate me in place, settling both of her hands over my shoulders. Placing me just right, right where she wanted me. All with this unusual, special care in her gentleness, getting to me.

And then she removed her hands from me with that same whispery softness, her fingertips lingering over me in a tactile echo. Leaving this soft memory of her touch over me.

While I listened to Miranda verbally direct Jack to do the same—next to Legion—I felt my mind wandering even more. Miranda absolutely put in the meticulous work to make sure that everything was perfect. Almost like the mother setting the table before Shepard arrived as our father for the big family meal, ensuring that not a single dish was out of place. When I had first met Miranda on Freedom's Progress before, I had imagined that the rest of her personality was something like this. She seemed to have such a natural penchant for power, even as she had clearly positioned herself beneath Shepard in her deference, and her obvious obsessions. And I had found myself hoping that she would steal Shepard away from Ashley, seeing as how I didn't have the confidence to do the same. Little did I know what she'd had in store at the time.

Then, when Miranda and I had met again last night in the med bay, I'd surprised myself with my thoughts. Almost wishing for this exact development. Seeing Shepard the way I did, I wondered if I could grow to accept Miranda in this way. How the two of them had this clear fascination with me—predatory in care. Not wishing to harm me. But they wanted to lay claim to me, controlling me like this, with a line of succession set in stone. I knew my dark fascination had slipped through while I'd observed her before.

Miranda had to be the queen, after all.

And she definitely fit the part.

But I still needed to make sure. Because this did feel a little surreal. I'd wanted this for a long time—even if Miranda hadn't been in the picture until just recently. Now to be so close…it was a lot to handle.

I only realized how hot it was in my suit once I felt Jack's eyes on me again.

Blushing over reasons that had nothing to do with her, I avoided her stare anyway. Even though she seemed harmless enough—despite the clear danger she'd presented before when the others had recruited her. Jack's eyes reminded me of the color of hatred. Not entirely red. Warmed by those shades of brown in between. Warmed even more by the slight likeness between us, as Joker and Garrus had told me that Jack and I were the same age. Both the youngest on the team, but able to hold our own. She was very pretty to me as well. The perfect shapes of her facial structure intrigued me.

When I met her eyes, I expected Jack to look away from me. She didn't for some reason.

Just to be nice, I waved hello to her.

Jack nodded her head upward in greeting. Boyish, thuggish. Hardened, too. Then she looked elsewhere.

And then there was Legion. A geth, of all things. It looked somewhat involved in the conversation going on. Listening. Paying attention. Sending data on everyone back to its geth collective. I had no idea why Shepard trusted this thing so easily. It bothered me more that she and Legion were apparently online friends, having played video games together over the extranet during our last mission against Saren and Sovereign. But Legion had also helped to bring her back…so there wasn't much I could say about this.

For Shepard's sake, I would keep an open mind.

Destroying Legion on instinct wasn't really in my best interests now.

Right as I used my omni-tool to lower the temperature in my suit, the door to the comm room opened.

Everyone stopped speaking.

As I watched Shepard cross the room—around the other side of the table, behind Jack and the others—I felt as if I gazed at her for the first time. Every time with her was new, novel, different, just as it had been for me, and as it would be going forward. That structure in her walk, military in strictness, feminine in flow, had that same duality I'd always adored about her. Even in her stealth suit, she had the elegance to leave her hair down, flowing behind her. And the way her skin alone lit up the room even more:

Suddenly this cooler setting with my temperature wasn't enough to keep me from heating up again.

It only grew worse once Shepard took her place beside me.

I spotted that new scar over her left brow. The way it cut through her, marking that gap of skin between the thin, well-shaped follicles of her eyebrow. Somehow, it fit her scowl very well. I enjoyed this look about her, even if I didn't enjoy how she'd earned the scar. It would serve as a memory of her sacrifices.

On purpose or otherwise, Shepard kept her direct attention away from me as she spoke: "Despite the upset during our time on Purgatory, the mission was a success. Jack is with us now, and we're both doing just fine. We're going to take it easy for a while. Until the Illusive Man has our next main mission with the Collectors, I only have one other place in mind for us to go. I'll have Miranda make the announcement about that later." Shepard regarded her, matter-of-fact. "Miranda, I want to thank you for taking over as team leader and captain while I was out. When I made that decision to step in, I factored in your leadership finishing the job. I'm glad to see you stepped up to the task as I expected."

"Of course, Commander," replied Miranda, giving a proud salute. "Thank you for your kind words."

Shepard gave her a stoic nod of approval.

How interesting that the two of them could easily switch between intimacy and professionalism like this.

The mood about the rest of the team warmed a little, as they made similar observations on their own.

Even Jack seemed intrigued—eyeing them both as she did, back and forth, back and forth.

Not to mention, I also noticed that unusual lightning sensation between Shepard and Miranda. It almost felt as if a lightning storm went off inside of my suit. Instead of mere static or electric discharge, I imagined myself out in the middle of a thunderstorm, rain and all, with the two of them acting as nature itself.

When at last Shepard made eye contact with me, I couldn't read a thing about her. I was glad she couldn't read anything about me, either, concealed as I was behind so many layers. Otherwise she would have seen this perpetual redness about my face; my pulse pounding through me. Even my hands behind my back—I'd somehow tangled my fingers into a taut web, holding myself here. Holding all of my pressure here: all of my temptations to toss aside this protocol and jump into Shepard's arms already.

Out of respect for her command, I would never do such a thing. But, of course, I wanted to…

"I assume everyone's met Tali already," noted Shepard, glancing around the room. "Except for Jack. So I'll just remind you all that Tali was with me, along with Garrus, during our previous mission against Saren and the geth. Tali and Garrus were part of the team who saved the Council while I worked to deal with Sovereign on the Citadel. Not counting Eden Prime, they've been with me since day one. And Tali was with Miranda and me on Freedom's Progress. As a tech expert, Tali is one of our most brilliant minds on this team. I expect each and every one of you to treat her with the respect she deserves."

As unreadable as Shepard was in her usual seriousness, I wasn't sure if she meant that in a certain way…

As a threat.

Zaeed soured, anyway. Doing his best to hide it. But I caught that slight guilt about him.

Joker and Garrus seemed amused in comparison. I could only imagine what went on in their heads now.

Shepard's piercing stare went right through me. "Have you had any problems since returning aboard?"

Well, she wasn't supposed to know about the chat room—and Zaeed appeared awfully nervous, so…

"Nothing worth mentioning, Shepard," I replied instead. Trying to keep things light. "I've been okay. Everyone has been very welcoming—in their own ways. I doubt we'll have any issues going forward."

"And those gunshots I heard in my dreams—those weren't from you?"

Joker masked his laugh with a terribly fake cough.

I pulled at my hands behind my back. "Err, well, Legion just suddenly appeared out of nowhere…"

Legion justified, "We detected Creator Tali'Zorah's presence aboard Normandy. We wished to make first contact with her on peaceful terms. Based on our nonviolent interactions with other organic team members thus far, we did not anticipate Creator Tali'Zorah's panicked reaction within the medical bay."

Miranda stood up for me: "Commander, I asked Joker and Garrus to warn Tali about Legion ahead of time. They failed to heed my advice. Tali had every right to panic once she discovered a geth with us."

And I stood up for Joker and Garrus: "They really didn't have time to warn me… As soon as I knew you were in the med bay, I rushed over here. I wasn't thinking properly. I was worried about you. Anxious."

All of this seemed to line up with Shepard's understanding of the incident.

Still I worried she would decide to punish me anyway. She had that authority.

"It's fine," she settled. "As long as it doesn't happen again. You and Legion will need to get along."

"Sorry, Shepard," I shared, letting out a breath of relief. "It won't happen again. I promise."

"I believe you." Softening a little bit, Shepard offered her hand to me. "Welcome back to the team, Tali."

Her left hand as well. Just like the first time on the Citadel.

Smiling, I shook her hand. Well-aware of the way she tempered her grip to match mine. Ever so accommodating for me. "Thanks, Shepard. I'm really glad to be back with you. I won't let you down."

"Well, I want to put that mind of yours to use. I saved our chief engineer spot for you. Interested?"

Overjoyed, I had to keep from sounding too excited—"Definitely! I'd love to help out. I appreciate it."

"We only have Engineer Daniels working at the moment. I wanted to send you and Legion down with her—chief engineer and power engineer. Think you can handle Legion as a coworker and a teammate?"

"Yes, I can live with it. I want to make an effort for the team."

"All right, then," said Shepard. She gave me a small smile. "Thanks, Tali."

Miranda let me know, "We've created an extra space in the crew's quarters for senior officers. There's a clean room for you if you'd like to claim it. I've already arranged for all the appropriate amenities there."

"Sure, that sounds great. Thank you, Miranda."

I still wanted to ask…

Shepard noticed—"Something else on your mind?"

"Well, we're docked at the Rayya on the Flotilla. I wanted to invite you aboard. Show you around. You would of course be an honored guest of the Fleet. The quarian admirals would all like to meet you…"

Including my father.

Shepard caught that meaning.

"We can do that," she responded. "I only need about an hour to debrief with the Illusive Man and get ready to head out. I'll come find you afterward."

"Okay," I accepted. Nerves fluttering in all. "I'll wait for you." Out of curiosity, I looked to Miranda. Testing things: "Did you want to join us? I'm sure the admirals would be happy to meet you as well."

Blinking back her surprise, Miranda said, "I appreciate the offer. That won't be necessary. This should be time for you and Shepard to spend together. You haven't seen each other properly in a long while."

I caught her meaning, too.

Shepard skipped right over those implications, transitioning her attention over to Jack now.

"We already had our introductions with everyone else on Purgatory. They know you. And we know who you are. I assume you'd rather not make a big deal out of this."

Furtive, Jack confirmed, "You assumed right."

Shepard also assumed, "Then you and I can chalk up our encounter to a misunderstanding. Can't we?"

"Yeah, sure… We can. I wasn't trying to charge at you like that."

As Jack waited for a response, she dug her fingertips into her folded arms. Pulling a bit.

In solidarity, Shepard offered her hand. "Welcome to the team, Jack."

Untangling her taut fold, Jack only extended her hand in the same directions. Cautious. Uncertain. Tattoos marking—one letter on each of her five fingers, translating to the word death.

Shepard took Jack's hand in hers. Gripping just a little harder than she received in return—as a message.

Frowning in defeat, Jack seemed to understand that subtle assertion of power.

"Thanks," she muttered anyway. Avoiding eye contact.

"I don't have a formal work assignment for you. I mainly want you to chill out. Find wherever you want to be on the ship. I only want you to use the VR training programs we have down in the cargo hold. Use them to work on your biotic control and stamina. Aside from another biotic we'll pick up later on, you're the strongest on the team in terms of raw power. We can't have you burning out like you did before."

Defensive, Jack questioned her, "What do you mean, like I did before? You know something I don't?"

"The Blue Suns captured you in the first place after you burned out fighting against someone else. You thought it would be a good idea to blow up some other Cerberus facility. The assassins you faced didn't make that easy for you. You tired yourself out, then the mercs found you and took you to Purgatory."

"Okay…maybe that did happen. So what?"

"It shouldn't happen again," decided Shepard. "Work on your stamina. That's an order. Am I clear?"

"Yeah, fine. You're the boss. I'll play the games when I get a chance."

Not liking Jack's sarcasm, Shepard said nothing in response.

Not liking Shepard's silence, Jack closed back into herself. Seeming self-conscious. Vulnerable. Lonely.

And so, assuming that the conversation was over, she tried to leave the room. A rookie mistake.

Shepard objected, "Jack, I didn't dismiss anyone yet."

Snapping to anger—covering her embarrassment—Jack retorted, "Hey, I'm not in the fucking military! I don't know what that means. I don't care! I'll leave when I wanna leave. You got a problem with that?"

Everyone else in the room braced themselves for the worst.

Even Miranda shifted a bit as she stood next to me. Anxious over how this might turn out.

Jack seemed to read the room. But on the outside, she stayed defiant. Not wanting to show weakness.

Shepard went up to her.

Stature prevailing, confidence brimming—she embodied a sense of control that Jack never could.

That discrepancy between them widened and widened as Shepard stared her down. All Shepard had to do was give that look—that single look warning Jack not to cross her. Reminding Jack with her presence that she could have easily sniped her down during the last mission. Reminding Jack that she could do a lot more than that, if she so decided. This was her ship. Her rules. As ever, her word was law.

Jack stared up at her in a soft surprise.

Reverential, in a way.

As if she realized something very important in that moment. Finding true meaning in Shepard's warning.

And then Shepard left the room on her own. Leaving the rest of us to exhale in relief.

After a peculiar moment passed, everyone except for Jack and Miranda filed outside. I figured the two of them remained behind to speak—for Miranda to continue laying down that law for Jack to remember.

I decided to go with Joker and Garrus to the bridge. We all sat at the helm together, just to talk for a while—until Shepard was ready to leave back to the Rayya with me. Anything to not have to face Legion quite yet down in Engineering. And as a way to vent about that whole exchange; for us to speculate what had gone through Shepard's mind while she'd stared Jack down like that. We were of course careful to keep our conversation limited, as we knew the rest of the crew listened closely to us.

All over again, I felt the need to speak to Shepard about Cerberus. Alone.

---

From: Lawson, Miranda – Normandy Onboarding.

Tali,

This is my formal email welcoming you back to the Normandy.

Commander Shepard has now added you to the crew manifest as our chief engineer. Your responsibilities of course include any and all operations and maintenance of the Normandy's drive core, as well as other engineering equipment throughout the ship. You will also be in charge of supervising our other engineering officers—Gabriella Daniels as our propulsion engineer, and Legion as our power engineer. I would encourage you to maintain close working relationships with Garrus Vakarian as our gunnery officer, Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau as our pilot, and EDI as the Normandy's artificial intelligence. You are free to begin your duties at any point upon returning from your visit to the Flotilla with Shepard.

As we do not currently have anyone assigned as the Normandy's marine officer, please take note that you are third-in-command aboard the ship, subordinate to me as the executive officer. In the unlikely event that both Commander Shepard and myself are incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, you would assume the role as captain and team leader. I can safely assume that we will be able to fill the marine officer post as we acquire new team members. At that time, you will take the fourth spot as part of our chain of command. For now, I only want you to be aware of these temporary yet vital circumstances.

As compensation for your work, you will receive biweekly payments from Cerberus commensurate with your capabilities. We have taken into account your aptitude and formal education, your vast experience serving as an engineer aboard the Migrant Fleet, and your time working with Engineer Adams on the original Normandy. Your payments will add up to a total salary of 1,232,000 credits annually. Cerberus appreciates your value; you can expect us to pay you accordingly for your essential work on this mission.

Day-to-day protocol aboard the SR-2 will be nearly identical to your months on the SR-1. Briefings in the comm room will still begin at 0900 hours before missions, unless there are exceptions due to relevant time constraints. Commander Shepard will trust you to maintain your own schedule and manage the other engineering officers accordingly. Please continue to send her your work reports for evaluation as you did before. However, you should contact me this time for any accommodations you might need.

That will be all from me. If you have any questions, please let me know. And do be aware that Jack has taken residence in the subdeck below Engineering, down the stairs. I don't believe that she will be a problem. Should you unfortunately discover otherwise, you may handle the situation as you see fit.

-Miranda

Sitting in the comfortable leather seat next to Joker, while he kept on talking to Garrus, I stared at Miranda's email long after I'd finished reading it.

I wasn't at all surprised by her professionalism.

Even in her cold directness, Miranda felt far more welcoming than Navigator Pressly had so long ago.

My eyes lingered on that number. My salary. My insane salary for simply working aboard the ship.

This amount of money was much, much more than I'd ever had in my life. Even with my inheritance.

I hadn't had to worry about credits during the last mission. Shepard had paid for all of our weapons, armor, and upgrades with her own money. I figured she would want to continue that from now on.

Compared to the Migrant Fleet—and the Alliance—Cerberus was quite generous with their resources. If anything, I expected Cerberus to pay me less, since I wasn't human. I was almost used to being treated as less-than as a quarian, with too many people assuming we were scavengers, swindlers, and thieves.

I appreciated that Cerberus chose to go the opposite route. But I wondered if this was maybe too much.

Not to mention I was the temporary third-in-command.

Just the thought alone had my stomach in knots. I couldn't imagine taking over the ship if both Shepard and Miranda weren't available. I could handle managing Engineer Daniels and even Legion for our usual work. Anything more than that would have been too much for me. I didn't trust myself as a leader.

Maybe I would have to pay more attention to Shepard's leadership skills. To learn directly from her.

As I thought that, I spotted her approach along the bridge. Even in her N7 armor, holding her helmet at her side, I still couldn't hear Shepard's footsteps. If I hadn't turned around, I pictured her scaring me with her sudden presence, too much like she used to do back in the old days. Brimming with this nostalgia, I hurried over to her, meeting Shepard halfway—and knowing that the guys watched us.

Glad to see that she'd kept her hair down, I also noticed something new about her.

My olfactory programs picked up on Shepard's scent. She had recently showered—I saw that added glow of moisture over her skin. But this aroma she had now was new. Human cologne… Wooden, masculine. Strong and gentle at the same time, in that deceptive binary, right where she existed. That similarity had me turned on all over again. Limited, I only gave it away in my joy, as I gave to her now:

"Exactly one hour," I noted, beaming up at her. "You're on time as always, Shepard. I'm not surprised."

Shepard hid her own smile away. "Of course, Tali," she replied, so deep. "Did you get Miranda's email?"

"Yes, I did. No complaints this time. She was very thorough in her message to me."

"Good. I already knew we wouldn't have any repeats of last time."

For some reason, even though Shepard sounded the same, she seemed…different.

I couldn't really place what it was. Something about her was a little off.

Maybe she didn't like that Joker and Garrus were so busy staring at us?

I asked her, "Do you think you'll be free for some time? I'd like to give you a tour of the Rayya. Though I'm not sure how long it will take us to get around to each of the admirals. They really do like to talk."

Shepard gave me a rather awkward, self-aware grimace as she recited, "I'm as free as the dust in the solar wind…"

Was that…from Fleet and Flotilla? She actually watched the vid?!

I laughed brightly. "Keelah, Shepard, I can't believe you… Please don't say you chose to watch that for me!"

"Maybe I did," she said, grinning a bit. She just wanted to make me laugh—and she succeeded.

"Mmm, did you? Well, I'm sorry to tell you that it isn't a favorite of mine anymore. That vid is like an old relic from my past now. I've grown out of that phase. But I still enjoy your cheesy reference anyway."

Happy to make me happy, Shepard only smiled more.

I laughed again over her new mood—how charming she was in her reserved cheesiness.

Most of that awkwardness gone now, Shepard placed her helmet on.

Once she was ready, we made our way to the airlock together. Unable to help it, I held Shepard's arm closest to me with both of mine. Even as Garrus and Joker waved goodbye to us…with a little too much enthusiasm. Joker's double thumbs-up certainly didn't help. They obviously wanted to encourage me.

As we walked onto the Rayya, Shepard asked, "What was that all about?"

"Nothing, really," I tried. "They're just being silly."

"If you say so."

I knew she didn't believe me.

But Shepard was considerate enough to not interrogate me about it.

Especially now that we had found Captain Danna waiting for us. He stood with his armed security detail near one of the windows, the sight opening up to a much wider view of the Fleet. Brighter lights here inside, colder emotions far outside across the dark: our thousands of ships remained set in unity, shaped as shooting stars tapering out at the end—the large roundness of the nearest liveship among them.

And what a wonder it was to bring Shepard home with me…after dreaming about this for so long.

The captain greeted us with his guards. "Welcome back, Tali'Zorah," he said. "And I see you have brought our esteemed guest of the Rayya. It is a great honor to finally meet you, Captain Shepard!"

As the pair shook hands, I was happy to introduce them, "Shepard vas Normandy, this is Captain Kar'Danna vas Rayya. He's been our captain for quite a few years now, since before my Pilgrimage."

Shepard remained stoic with her respect. "Captain. Good to meet you, too."

Captain Danna smiled from behind his mask. "So the tales were true, then," he teased. "Your sternness is one for the ages. I have to admit I'm not used to it from you humans." Then he spotted me still holding onto Shepard's arm. "But that is the beauty of learning more about outsiders, isn't it? You have challenged our views among our own people! Quarian women do not typically hold your attitude."

"I'm not sure what you mean," claimed Shepard. Even though she knew exactly what he meant.

Oblivious, Captain Danna went on, "You must understand, Captain Shepard, that our society is far more conservative than you are used to. For example, quarian women are all but expected to behave a certain way. Not that we take their expertise for granted, should they be called upon to serve in any sorts of leadership roles. After all, two of the five sitting members of the Admiralty Board are women. It is safe to say that one would surely take your personality the wrong way if you were born among the Fleet!"

I felt that indestructible steel with which Shepard locked her lips and brows together behind her helmet.

Danna staggered back. "Err, have I offended? That look you wear, it's—oh, dear…"

"No, no, not at all!" I lied in Shepard's place, whisking her away with me. She allowed me to pull her along. "Cultural differences, Captain Danna! It's nothing to worry about! Keelah se'lai!"

Only once we were far away enough—well through to the well-lit trading floor—did I think to stop.

Several of the quarians in the area stared at us together. I heard their curious murmurs, sharing their speculations about us with their neighbors. They had every reason to gossip and speak, as we were on the trading floor: a special area on each ship where people left behind unused items for others to collect freely. Vid screens, sheet coverings, radios, cooking utensils, pieces of art, and various mechanical parts. Still, their wonderings sounded like a single echo of the same sentiment. They noticed the N7 logo over Shepard's armor. They recognized me in my enviro-suit, as it was quite distinct from everyone else's. And they knew us both from our mission against Saren, and what we'd achieved on the Citadel.

I remembered well that there were other rumors floating around about the two of us.

All because of the argument Father and I had gotten into over the matter of my sexuality—and his initial disapproval. His reaction. His rejection of me. That fight had then echoed outward to the entire Fleet.

And now everyone couldn't stop staring at Shepard with me.

She definitely noticed.

"Sorry about Captain Danna," I apologized. Trying to avoid the obvious. "He does his best. Not all quarian men understand this. But there's no getting around it—quarian women are expected to be docile. Non-threatening. It's a wonder the most recent female admiral was able to join the Board at all."

"I know, Tali. I first read about your people a long time ago. Don't rock the boat is basically the motto."

I couldn't help smiling at that. "Yes, well, then you know the reasons why… I'm not saying that it's right. Just that it's how things have always been. Especially on the Flotilla where we all have to play our part."

"I understand," she reassured. "Maybe things will change someday."

"They already have… Sort of. The rest of the progress will take time."

This pressure from so much attention on us had my stomach in knots all over again.

So I had to change the subject—"Right, um, this is the trading floor… It's where we come to pick up any unneeded items that other people have donated from their belongings." Shepard watched as our nosey neighbors picked through the items in the storage lockers around, continuing their conversations. "It's usually much quieter here. No one likes to make a scene or be greedy. Everyone is still keeping a sense of order, anyway. I'm pretty sure that this is virtually unheard of back on Earth with your people."

"Pretty much," confirmed Shepard. "If a human gets rid of something, it's either going in the trash or up for sale. Sometimes we'll donate to a thrift store instead. We really only give these types of hand-me-downs between family members. Blood-related."

"Of course, it's different for us. We don't have a lot of room in our homes. Usually. I couldn't fathom the idea of selling something I no longer needed. Any quarian would think to give it away to someone else."

Shepard had likely read about this in her studies.

Seeing it for herself seemed to be an entirely new experience—I felt her contemplation, learning more.

I went on, "With that said, we do have a market area. Mostly for purchasing items from other worlds and cultures. All of the proceeds go toward maintaining the Migrant Fleet's many ships. The other admirals promised me they would be in that area today for you to meet them. Let's head over there."

As I walked with Shepard to the freight elevator, we passed by the essential exchange room. Inside the area was the usual desk with a few quarians sitting behind, with a line of about a dozen other quarians. As each person in the line requested what they needed, the quarian at the desk would enter the information into their computer, and then the other employees would bring the items to the requester, bundled within a secure pack for tracking and logging.

"I'm trying to remember an equivalent," I explained. "I suppose you could call this our cafeteria and pharmacy, all-in-one. We use these areas to request essential items, like food and medicine. This is separate from the trading floor, to help each ship keep track of their reserves. We need to make sure that we have enough for everyone."

"So no one ever goes hungry. Or if they get sick, they'll have healthcare. Everyone has a place to live."

"That's right. We provide for every single person in the Fleet. These are all basic dignities, aren't they?"

Shepard went quiet.

Of course I knew how she had grown up—how she'd had to fight for these basic necessities before.

I admired her more for the way she provided for our team. She took care of us with those memories.

We took the freight elevator up to the crew deck. Unfortunately for Shepard, this particular elevator ride was crowded with other quarians. Most of them tried to talk to her, curious as they were to have Commander Shepard—and a human and an outsider—aboard our ship. I was all too happy to speak for her, noticing how grumpy she was over the attention. And I loved that she was grumpy about it—I made sure to hold her arm even closer to me, leaning on her more while I chatted with everyone around us.

Quarians didn't really mind our own business like humans did.

Somehow, our entourage followed us through the crew deck to the markets. But as we all went along, passing by the residential cubicles, I spotted Shepard's reactions. Watching as these small families all lived together in such tight spaces, with hardly any privacy, and with mere sheets for doors—she looked visibly disturbed by my peoples' living situation. Even more so as our audience continued speaking with us—or really only me—as if this was all no big deal. Because to us, it wasn't… For her, it was different.

If she had read the stories of the Migrant Fleet from quarian authors on Pilgrimage, then she also knew:

An Alliance ship of this size would have housed about a hundred people. We had nearly a thousand. Save for criminal exiles, we had our entire population of seventeen million quarians spread out across the Fleet—fifty-thousand ships strong. So we'd had to make the most of what little space was available.

By the time we arrived to the open plaza of the market, our followers bade us goodbye. Shepard was courteous enough to give a curt nod to them as they left. But she otherwise gave her attention to the kiosks around on the tables, and the decently-sized crowd of customers in the shops all around us. They browsed the kiosks filled with tech and omni-tool upgrades, books, model ships, and foreign goods.

Cheery, I asked, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Shepard shrugged. "I guess not," she allowed. "By the way, those houses…"

"I don't live in one of those. Not anymore, anyway. I used to…for a time. While you were gone."

She gave me one of those worried, disturbed looks. Clearly concerned for me.

Now seemed like the best time to tell her the whole story.

The admirals could wait a little longer.

"Here, let's sit," I suggested, spotting a nearby bench along a wall. Far enough away from the crowds.

Shepard guided us over there, breathing a bit easier once we were alone. Always a gentleman, she let me sit down first, before I pulled her down with me. Stalwart in her care, Shepard sat up straight against the wall, giving me this space to lean on her for comfort and support. And I certainly needed this from her right now. We also had some privacy here at this distance from the actual shops, for people-watching…

"What happened, Tali? How did you end up living in one of those places?"

More cultural differences—Shepard said that as if the usual quarian homes were shameful. But for us, they were all we knew. We couldn't imagine living the way she and other outsiders were so used to.

No imagination. No ambition. No drive.

"Do you remember, back on Freedom's Progress, when I told you that I was in the middle of something for my father? I couldn't join the team right away. A year ago, I had started working on those assignments collecting geth parts for him. Trying to earn his favor. His forgiveness after an argument."

Shepard seemed to know already. She listened to me with her whole heart:

"I'm sure you can imagine why he and I fought. My father found out that I'm gay. I didn't mean to tell him. But until that point, I had been completely dependent on him. Even though I'm a crewmember of the Neema, I stayed home with Father on this ship. I had to…after you and Liara died. I was heartbroken. I didn't know how to take care of myself anymore. It got to the point where I was under near-constant supervision from a doctor. They were afraid that I would choose to end my own life. Word got around somehow. Having everyone judge me like that…it made everything worse. I was trapped in a way."

Then she asked with such a heavy voice, "How did you get through it?"

"That's something else you asked about," I recalled. "In your emails. You would bring up the matter of how I coped after you died. I would never answer you." Of course she remembered. I couldn't tell her about the knowledge Liara had given me. So I gave her the other half of my answer instead: "This is going to sound crazy—and I fully admit it is… But, well…Liara knew that I liked you. She spotted it right away. We would discuss it sometimes. Then, one day, she surprised me when…when she started preserving certain samples from you. Used water bottles. Plates. Utensils. Anything with you on it…"

I feared Shepard's reaction as she began putting the pieces together.

Thankfully, she continued to listen…without judging me at all.

Even though this had to be a real shock to her, deep down.

"I had no idea that she'd done this. I never asked her to. Yet after she died, Liara left behind those samples for me to collect. I kept them for a while. I was unsure what to do with them. By the time I was at my lowest point, I would…expose myself to you. Getting sick that way. Having those allergic reactions. I would do this…as a way to feel close to you again. It wasn't healthy. I know that. Back then, getting sick over you was the only way I'd stop crying—or having anxiety attacks. I could only seem to function while I had a fever, or a sinus infection so bad that my sneezes would gunk up my filters. This is also something that quarians do as a rite of passage. When we decide that we—want to be fully intimate with someone, instead of just linking our suit environments… It's a…declaration of certain feelings. You know…"

Shepard knew.

She regarded me with her understanding. And that non-judgment, now more than ever.

I still couldn't look at her. Not yet. Not with my heart pounding. I buried my face against her shoulder.

Maybe I should have waited to tell her this while we were actually alone. Instead of out in the open.

"A-Anyway, my doctor eventually caught me doing this. She recognized that my sample doses were never enough to be lethal, which she figured was a positive sign. Then she told my father. They both recognized my behavior as this rite of passage. At first, Father was very supportive of my decision. I was actually shocked. He admitted that he just wanted answers as to why I was so broken up, since he felt so helpless, watching me go through this. Once he knew that I had these certain feelings for someone, he tried to talk to me about it. Father wanted to know who it was, and if there was anything he could do to get this person to be with me. This went on for a few months, with me never giving him a straight answer—and I mean that literally. I already knew how he would react once I told him the whole truth.

"I'm not entirely sure how to describe the linguistics of this… Now that I think about it, you might have something similar. But in our quarian language, we have a few ways of appropriately distancing ourselves from embarrassing topics of conversation. It is customary to use our equivalent of they/them pronouns when talking about someone whose identity we wish to keep private. And even though it may be frustrating for the person listening, they're supposed to respect our decision in not gendering this mystery identity. So whenever I would talk about you, I would never say your name, or she, or her. But Father would constantly say he or him, in a combative sort of way, as if goading me to confirm that you were a man. He refused to respect my decision. I ended up blowing up at him over it one day. I came out of the closet, as you humans say. I said your name. He knew who you were. Yet he still hated me for it."

Somehow, the rest of this was more difficult to discuss than the first part.

Shepard was so gentle when she asked the obvious, "Did he kick you out?"

"He did," I confirmed. "In the heat of the moment, I caught his real problem. Father hated that I had 'disrespected' him. He didn't respect my wishes, or the fact that I'm an adult who can speak for myself. But I also felt a certain toxicity from him. My father always expected me to be obedient to him because I was his daughter, and not his son. That was the main issue, I know. In our culture, it can be a tiny bit awkward to learn that someone is gay…but in the end, no one makes a big deal out of it. He chose to make this a big deal in an effort to make me obey him. It wasn't in his plans for me to be with a woman. I called him out on all of it—everything. He wouldn't budge. That's when he told me to get out. So I left to the Neema—my actual home ship—and I didn't look back. Or at least, I didn't plan on looking back…"

"I get what you mean… What happened after you left?"

"Well, the Neema's captain welcomed me back with open arms. Everyone did, even though word had quickly spread about what happened. They all supported me. They thought it was unfair that my father had kicked me out over something like this. I did live in one of those cubicles… Aside from the credits I had earned during my mission with you, I had nothing to my name. But my neighbors were so kind. Always stopping by to check up on me. That's how I met Veetor, the quarian we found on Pilgrimage before. We became good friends. I suppose we bonded over our different struggles with anxiety."

Shepard did remember him. She lightened somewhat, glad that I'd at least had a friend with me. I felt her opinion of our homes beginning to change, too. Knowing that they had given me sanctuary.

She wondered, "Then how'd your situation with your father resolve itself?"

"The rumors," I soured. "People would shame my father wherever he went. They called him stubborn and selfish. Abandoning family members is among the worst things you can do in our society…especially when that family member is clearly not doing well. Plus, he's an admiral, so it's not as if he could have avoided the criticism. I think the shame got to him in the end. Not the guilt over what he'd done. Just the shame of everyone knowing he'd kicked out his daughter over something so trivial. It was his pride."

"I'm guessing he tried to find you after that."

"He did find me. Right at home. Father couldn't stand seeing me live in such a place. Not with all of our privilege. So I agreed to go back with him, but only if he apologized. He gave me his apology. It wasn't exactly complete or sincere. Yet it was something. He had clearly sat with this problem and thought about how he'd treated me over the years. We both decided that I would complete those assignments for him. For me, I needed to be productive again. Get back to working with what I love. Helping him was a bonus. Then I found myself needing his real approval. It took some more time, but…he came around."

Shepard also approved. "Well, I'm glad he sorted out his priorities. Even if it did take a while to happen."

"I am, too. I knew all along how much it would take for him to change. I was too afraid to go through all of that, even though it was inevitable. It's over with now. I think he and I have both moved on from it."

I assumed that Shepard would say something else.

Or maybe suggest that we move on from this as well, and continue exploring the Rayya.

Instead, she moved just enough to give me a hug. Such a strong hug—a loving hug. The exact type of hug I had always needed from her. I couldn't even care that her armor was in the way; that my suit was in the way. Having Shepard on my birth ship like this, embracing me for so many people to see, and validating my every desire for her to be this way with me… She seemed to mend the tears, and the pain from the past two years. And more than that.

I felt myself smiling through these sudden tears anyway. Loving that she was finally here. Loving her.

Right now, it didn't matter that I could never say the words to her.

I allowed this selfishness for a moment, enjoying the way she cared about me. Nothing else mattered.

Definitely, no matter what, Shepard would always be my big softy. I got to have this privilege of my own.

And the way she settled her hand along the back of my head, as if stroking my hair…I made up my mind:

I would show her. I would make an effort, and try, once we were alone later.

Whatever I had overheard of her discussion with Miranda—I wanted to let her know that I was interested.

Re-energized, I stood up, encouraging, "Come on, let's keep going! We have lots more to get through!"

Smiling with me, Shepard stood up as well. "All right, Tali. Lead the way."

I clung to her arm again, leading us through the market. Shepard was happy to be pulled along by me again.

And I thought I saw Admiral Daro'Xen somewhere in the crowd, talking with a few other people.

But then, I got distracted by an advertisement near one of the shops. The kiosk there. The one specifically with foreign goods from Earth, from Shepard's people.

I saw something very…adorable.

On display was an ad for the types of items they sold at this kiosk.

One in particular made me bring Shepard over to this shop with me. She laughed a little once she saw what this was about. Whatever this was, this plush toy, it had me fascinated. White fur and gray-tipped ears, with such a round shape—I had never seen anything like it before. I wanted to know what it was.

I poked the advertisement. "Shepard, what is this gentle, furry creature with such floppy ears? And why do I want to give it a hug?"

"It's a rabbit, Tali," she told me, sounding amused. "They're prey animals out in the wild. They're also very intelligent. Docile and sweet. And…cute, obviously. Humans like to keep some of them as pets."

"A rabbit…? This word sounds familiar."

Still holding onto Shepard like this, I used my omni-tool to search for more information.

Right away, several results showed up—cute vids, cute pictures, and cute websites with lists of breeds.

It was as she said. These were prey animals in the wild, but kept as domestic pets by humans. Bunnies!

I had the strangest feeling. Such a natural affinity with this animal. I wanted to think it sounded like me.

Probably thinking the same, Shepard made a purchase at the kiosk. Then, on the counter, a rabbit plush appeared—the same as the advertisement. Larger than Shepard's free hand as she held it, she gifted the toy to me. I couldn't stop giggling over how soft it was. And its floppy little ears, of course. Just too cute.

"Thank you, Shepard," I said, beaming at her. "This is very sweet of you. I'll need to start a collection!"

"I figured," she replied. Amused again. "I can already see you spending your whole paychecks on these."

"Hmm, maybe I will… But we should really get going this time. Admiral Xen is just over here."

As I brought Shepard over to meet the newest admiral, I had to remember myself. Even while I held this special gift close to my chest, I felt my nerves going haywire, all over the place. Not because of Xen—though her coldness was rather discouraging. But because of what this day so far truly meant to me.

I would forever treasure this toy the way I treasured this experience with my captain.

Approaching Xen with her group, she found the patience to give us her full attention.

"Tali'Zorah," she stated, in that snobbish, superior accent of hers. "I see that you and the commander are enjoying your tour aboard the Rayya thus far. Did you not think I could see you here in the markets? That toy in your arms is proof of your limited attention span—and your utter disregard for my time."

I had to stop from rolling my eyes. "Hello, Admiral. This is—"

"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Xen. "The famed Alliance hero, Commander Shepard. Savior of the Citadel. Captain of the Normandy. And apparently the love of your life." My face heated with embarrassment over her attitude. "Commander, I am Daro'Xen vas Moreh. I am in charge of the Special Projects arm of the Migrant Fleet. Technical research is my greatest expertise. A pleasure to meet you."

Shepard didn't bother offering her hand. "Admiral, I don't appreciate you disrespecting a member of my crew like this. I get that Tali didn't exactly bring me over here ASAP. That's no excuse for your tone."

Taking note of the snub, Xen folded her arms. "I hardly need some human to school me on my own tone. I will speak however I choose. Surely if I had kept you waiting for hours, you would be less than agreeable with me as well? Let's not apply double-standards here. We ought to be plain on the matter."

"If that's the case, then I'll be plain, too. Change your tone when you talk to Tali. Otherwise, I'll have no problem making myself an enemy of the Migrant Fleet by ending you here and now. I fucking mean it."

The group of quarians nearby scattered away, creating a panic that quickly spread through the market.

Oh, no…

Xen backed away in a sudden fear, sputtering, "I beg your pardon!?"

Shepard leaned closer in a hostile warning. "You heard me, Admiral," she intimidated. "I don't give a damn what your rank is in this fleet! I'm not letting you get away with talking down to my teammate. I've had it up to here with people like you who think we're all supposed to kiss the ground you walk on! So you either owe her an apology, or you need to shut the hell up and leave! Make up your mind and pick one."

"Why, this is unheard of!" cried Xen. She was clearly unused to anyone challenging her as such. "Commander, have you no decency?! You cannot come aboard our ship, threatening me with violence for merely speaking as I always do! I would expect you to maintain a certain amount of civility and decorum—"

"You're really testing my patience, Xen. To hell with your civility!"

Out of breath from running over here, Admiral Shala'Raan placed herself between Xen and Shepard. Arms raised in defense, Raan pushed her normally soothing, calming, motherly voice to one of grave urgency:

"Captain Shepard, please!" she beseeched. "You must stop! You may be an honored guest of the Fleet, yet we cannot abide by such threats to a member of the Admiralty Board… This is highly improper!"

"What I'm doing is improper, but Admiral Xen here is allowed to denigrate my crewmember?"

Raan's eyes widened—this sounded like completely new information to her.

All those panicking people must have failed to mention that part to anyone else…

She immediately turned to Xen. "Admiral, is this true? Have you again resorted to the same with Tali!?"

Unable to defend herself, Xen merely scoffed. Folding her arms tighter around herself as well.

"Xen, you have humiliated us all!" scolded Raan. "How many times have we had this conversation? If it is not Tali you are short with, it is Admiral Han'Gerrel—or a poor civilian who has induced your wrath! I won't abide by your excuses this time. You owe Tali'Zorah an apology for your continued treatment!"

Far too proud to do such a thing, Xen scoffed once more and walked away.

The surrounding crowd gasped in shock. Already, they began spreading gossip over the scandal of it all.

Even more humiliated, Raan bowed to us. "I apologize for the miscommunication," she expressed. "It wasn't wise of me to act without knowing all the facts. I should have known you had chosen to stand up for Tali, Captain Shepard. History suggests you would follow this path." Sighing, she guided us away from the many nosey bystanders around. "I suppose I should have moved us earlier. Admiral Zaal'Koris will not be pleased with me for enflaming an already-public scene. I will have to prepare for his lecture…"

Once we stopped in a hallway, I carried on as normal, "Shepard, this is Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay. She commands the Patrol Fleet, and she oversees navigation, internal security, and intership conflicts and crimes. I told you about her before. She and my father have been friends for quite a long time."

Cordial, Shepard shook her hand. "Admiral."

Raan seemed puzzled. "You are indeed a mystery, Shepard vas Normandy," she observed. "Mere moments ago, you all but risked a diplomatic incident with the Fleet—or worse. Now you are more than stoic in your manners. But I suppose I cannot complain. You had Tali's best interests at heart. Admiral Rael'Zorah is sure to be impressed with your decisions. That is quite the rare honor for anyone to have."

I questioned, "Auntie Raan, do you truly think Father will approve of that scene? You know how he is…"

"He will, child," soothed Raan. "No matter what happened between the two of you in the past, your father wishes to protect you. Rael was never shy about his desires to give you and your mother the homeworld. Ever since I helped your mother bring you to this ship, this was forever your father's most singular concern. I am confident that Rael recognizes Captain Shepard's similar ambitions for you."

Shepard and I had never discussed the quarian politics of going to war with the geth for Rannoch…

I hurried to say, "Um, Raan, I think this is something I can go over with Shepard later. Not now… You know how complicated this topic is! Especially for non-quarians…"

Shepard stated, "Tali, I'll help get your homeworld back—if that's what your people decide. I promise."

Well…that was easy.

Raan smiled over the simplicity—and the sight of this bunny in my arms—until we were interrupted:

"There you are!" came a gravelly, tough, militant voice—from none other than Admiral Han'Gerrel. "I heard about all the commotion and decided to come find you myself! That was quite the spectacle!" He took special note of Shepard here with me, and shook her hand with an excited vigor. "Commander Shepard, the honor is mine. Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema with the Heavy Fleet, at your service."

Shepard noticed, "You seem pretty happy to meet me, Admiral."

"Of course I am!" boasted Gerrel. "You put that petulant snob Xen in her place—humiliated her in front of the whole ship! She deserved some talking-down-to for once in her life. I'm about sick of her always calling me an ageing warship behind my back. Never to my face, mind you. That's a coward's work, it is."

"It's good to see you again, Admiral," I told him.

Han'Gerrel grinned at me. "Same to you, kid," he replied. "It's a shame you're leaving again so soon. This time to tackle the Collectors, if I remember correctly. If your time saving the Council's any indication, I'm sure you'll all be heroes again. You're Rael's daughter. You've got more great things ahead of you, Tali."

Raan said, "That is—unusually kind of you to share."

"You know me, Shala. Whenever I see a victory, I bask in it! You should try the same! Keelah se'lai!"

"I am not certain if that is the best idea…"

Proving her point, Admiral Zaal'Koris stormed down the hall in our direction, more than agitated. He had thrown aside his usual uptight, stately poise in favor of his anger, his displeasure, and his disapproval:

"Admiral Raan, this is unacceptable!" he chastised. "Airing out a petty dispute for the masses to witness and gossip over—have you no shame?! Why, everyone aboard the Rayya is handing out the details of your mistakes like the pages of a tabloid newspaper! You ought to know better. The Admiralty Board cannot be seen having such a public disagreement! We are supposed to be united as one! Or we at least need to give off the appearance as such... Quite frankly, you and Xen have ruined that perception!"

Admiral Gerrel shot back at him, "That's enough, you old weakling! Shala handled the situation as best as she could! It's Xen you need to blame for starting the fight in the first place. She should know better than to go around disrespecting Rael's girl—especially in front of Commander Shepard of all people!"

While the admirals ironically continued their bickering, I whispered to Shepard, "This is Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib. He is in charge of the Civilian Fleet and the liveships, which make up the bulk of the Flotilla. In a normal setting, I would warn you against asking about his ship-name. But, seeing as he is too busy yelling at Raan and Gerrel, I don't think that will be an issue. They're really going at it…"

"Maybe this is our cue to leave," she suggested.

"Maybe you're right," I agreed, pulling her along with me. "Let's go back to my place. Father should still be there waiting for us. I'm sure he's heard all about the drama by now… Word travels fast on this ship."

"You nervous about him meeting me?"

I let out an uncertain laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"A little, yeah."

"Well, you know… The two of you have similar personalities. I can only hope you won't end up clashing."

---

Arriving back home—to my childhood home, rather—I let the cold of this homely steel bite through to me. This moment, I had spent so long dreaming about. Dreaming of one day bringing Shepard home to meet my father, for them to speak, and perhaps get along with one another. After the confrontation with Xen at the markets, I wasn't entirely sure how this would go. After all, I saw so much of my father in Shepard, beyond just their similar personalities. I understood the psychology of it; the strangeness of it; and the desperation of mine, in the way I had fallen for this woman so completely, overwhelming me so.

Yet my father had remained authoritarian with me in ways that Shepard had never allowed.

She had never let me see that side of her. Yet I knew she had it in her—with a side of sadism.

I wanted everything that Shepard held back.

I wanted Shepard to include me in her sex life.

After I had spent most of my life trying to live up to him, I wanted Shepard to have my father's approval.

In such an unholy way, Father seemed to feel this energy radiating from me. The whole triage of it. He stood up from the table where he'd continued to sit at this whole time, finding Shepard and me. I brought her over to him. Still holding onto her in the same ways. Still holding onto the gift she had bought for me, feeling the way my father scrutinized this foreign object I cradled so close to my heart. I knew he saw me practically doing the same with Shepard—as foreign as she was to him—yet he didn't quite sour at the sight of her. Not as I'd expected. Even as he felt how small I was with her, Father took note of Shepard towering over me in height and in power. In beauty and in influence. In everything, all.

Taller than him, Shepard didn't quite look down at my father.

Shorter than her, Father didn't quite look up at my captain.

I let them have this moment: sizing one another up in this silence. Making up their minds about this.

"Father, this is Commander Shepard," I said at last. "Shepard vas Normandy, this is my father, Chief Admiral Rael'Zorah. He oversees the Board as a whole. Anything they decide on has to go through him."

Shepard knew to not offer her hand at this time. "I've heard a lot about you, Sir."

"As have I about you," replied Father. Curt and cordial. Tones mirrored. "From the moment I learned you'd returned from the dead, I knew this day would come. You are a constant presence in my daughter's life. Whether I like it or not."

Oh, no, not again…

Yet Shepard remained neutral. "Admiral, if there's something you need to say to me, then say it."

Father narrowed his eyes. "Is that so?" he challenged. "Well, then, Shepard vas Normandy, I will be fully honest with you. When Tali was younger, I did not envision her being with a woman. Certainly not a human woman. Or any human, whom she cannot have biological children with. I expected the man I had in mind to have the utmost qualifications. The most exceptional of accomplishments. The picture of excellence in organic form. Standing before me now, with all you have achieved in this galaxy, you have met my expectations with ease. Except I have had to grapple with the fact…that my daughter is gay."

I'd never heard him say those last words out loud.

And I'd thought that I never, ever would.

"Why does this bother you so much, Sir?" asked Shepard. Diplomatic. "If I understand correctly, this isn't too much of a problem in quarian culture. It's the same with mine. But you're clearly upset about this."

"Because I have had to rearrange all of my plans for my little girl. This isn't what I had prepared for."

"With all due respect, Admiral, this shouldn't be about you. This should be about Tali. You know that."

Father fell silent. Actually thinking about her words.

He listened to her in ways he had never done for me. Maybe he did respect her authority, her influence.

Shepard wasn't just any woman. And he knew that. By now, he had to see why I felt this way about her.

Father asserted, "Then let me be clear. I don't give a damn about that Cerberus woman of yours. If you're going to be the man in Tali's life, then you will treat her appropriately. I expect you to provide for her. Care for her. She is your crewmember, but she is also dependent on you. I'm well-aware of this. Tali was a wreck after you died. Now that you're back, I see how you've reignited the fire in her heart. So I need your promise that you will protect her."

Heated face and neck, heart pounding over and over again—I hated the way Shepard went quiet.

Not liking this, either, Father said, "Tali, please give Captain Shepard some privacy with me. She and I need to discuss this important matter. Man to man. If you could return to your room for about ten minutes, I would appreciate it. You may come back at that time."

"Yes, Father," I accepted. I took my time untangling my arms from Shepard's hold. "I'll be back, then."

Neither Shepard nor my father said a word as I retreated down the hall.

Even once I made it to my room, I imagined them still staring at each other in silence. Waiting to make sure I hadn't lagged behind to eavesdrop on them. Of course I knew better than that. But I was also tempted, which they also knew. I figured it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught.

While I waited for these ten long minutes to pass, I cleaned up my room with every bit of nervous skittishness I didn't want to feel. I folded those sleeping mats that Joker and Garrus had used, and put them away. I found that picture of Liara and me—the one showing my face—and I turned it around. This wasn't how I planned on letting Shepard see me for the first time. Not through a picture. And definitely not a picture with her ex in it. I wasn't sure how Shepard would react to such a thing, and I didn't want to find out. But it really didn't help that I could barely keep my hands still as I did all of this. Trembling.

Finally, it began to sink in that Shepard was here. Speaking to my father in the other room. About me.

I couldn't believe that Father had chosen to be so forward. That obvious. Why would he do that?

He had all but ordered Shepard to forget all about Miranda…which I didn't want her to do. Not at all.

I understood the risks of Miranda repeating the past with me. We couldn't afford to do this. We didn't have the freedom for that type of rivalry. I couldn't call Shepard my own, and it wasn't my place to change that. I just hoped she would give me a chance to explain all of this and move forward with her.

During this final minute, I looked around the small space of my room one last time. Making sure that everything was neat and orderly—as it always was. I smiled at my bunny now sitting on another shelf above my bed. I wanted to bring it with me to the Normandy once it was time to return.

But right now, those ten minutes were up.

I technically had permission to go back to the sitting room.

I took the smallest steps down the hall. Making my way back without announcing my presence.

And I was glad that I did this. Because by the time I returned, I found the most unexpected sight waiting for me. Father had his head bowed, his hand over his mask, as if to cover his shame, his raw emotions; while Shepard stood near to him in a supportive stance. They did seem to be aware that I was here. Yet they continued speaking as if I was not. They simply carried on as if nothing had changed whatsoever:

"Captain Shepard, you move me," said Father, pained. "I will work harder to give my daughter the homeworld. This is all I can do. It is all I have ever been able to do. This wall over my heart was the reason why I focused on my ambitions. But I also see how it has separated me from my little girl. And then there was you… You, coming along to take my place. The one woman whose qualifications and accomplishments I could never scrutinize, never question or reject. That is what ailed me so."

"Admiral, it's time to let that go," insisted Shepard, even in her sympathies. "Your daughter can make her own choices. She's not a little girl anymore. I get that you'll always think of her that way. I only wish you would start treating her like an adult. After everything that happened, Tali deserves this from you."

Father conceded, "You are correct. I regret that it's taken me this long to understand. But you are right." He set the last of his pride aside, offering his hand. "Thank you for showing me the truth."

Shepard shook my father's hand, matching his firm grip. "I'm glad we had the chance to clear this up."

"As am I. You are an exceptional diplomat. It is no wonder my daughter feels this strongly for you. I would entrust her to no other."

Father then noticed me shuffling closer.

He…actually smiled at me.

I felt myself tearing up as I smiled back at him. And again, more so once he came over to give me a hug.

My father had never shown me this type of affection before. He'd spent years pretending as if he didn't understand why I needed it; why I would cry and complain over his coldness, over the way he would refuse to even smile at me at all, let alone embrace me. So it was clear now that he'd had an epiphany.

If anyone could have given me this moment, it was Shepard—and no other.

Father pulled away, still smiling. "Tali, there is much I need to tell you," he said. "Though I believe it can wait—for now. It is my turn to give you your privacy with Captain Shepard. I should be on my way. Your run-in with Admiral Xen was not lost upon me. I approve. But the other admirals have called a meeting."

"Of course, Father," I accepted, with such relief. "Thank you for understanding. It means so much."

"Thank you for being patient with me. Or not-so-patient. One day, we will make up for lost time."

Father kept that same positivity as he gave Shepard a nod of approval.

She returned that nod, stoic in her strength. Earning even more of my father's appreciation.

And then, Father left the house. Leaving the door locked behind him. Leaving us alone at last.

Now that we finally had this solitude, I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure what I could say.

Shepard noticed the lone couch in the room. "Tali, did you want to sit down first? We should talk."

"Yes, we should," I agreed. "Let's have a seat together."

Even though this couch wasn't very big, the distance I kept between us seemed so much wider. I sat on one end, while Shepard stayed on the other. We both leaned against the armrests behind us. Facing forward, we stared at one another. I wanted to know what was on Shepard's mind, just as she wanted to know what was on mine. Yet we'd had no need to question this. We both already knew the answers.

The details of her talk with my father—that wasn't the most important matter between us. In fact, I was more comfortable with not knowing those details. Somehow, it felt too personal for me to get involved.

This was about something else. A different sort of talk:

This talk had been over two years in the making. Two whole years of anguish, loss, and renewed hope…

Shepard knew—"So, back in the day…when I found you down in Engineering, and I gave you that gift for your Pilgrimage, we had a conversation. I offered for us to have a another talk. In private. For you to tell me how you feel. You were pretty adamant about not doing it because of Liara and Ashley at the time."

"Yes, and now you have Miranda."

"You still seem a lot more open to having this talk, though."

I sighed, remembering: "Listen, I honestly feel like you spared me before—when we first discussed this, and you didn't push the issue. Your exes are both dead… So it would be best for you to spare me again. Differently this time. But after everything that's happened, I'm not sure what to say. There are no words to describe how I want you."

Shepard didn't know what to say, either.

Perhaps she hadn't expected me to be this forward. I'd surprised myself with this, after all.

Even if I hadn't overheard her conversation with Miranda earlier, I might have still said the same things:

"I'll try to find some words," I promised. "As for how I feel about you…I would say it's unconditional. I need to be around you, Shepard. It doesn't matter what we're doing. If you never said anything about how you feel, I wouldn't mind at all. I would prefer that you—take action, like you've done all day today. The way you warned the team to treat me with respect. The way you didn't punish me for putting those bullet holes in the med bay. How you bought me that bunny to make me smile. How you stood up to Xen for me, and my father, right to his face. You made him re-evaluate his parenting skills in just ten minutes, when I'd spent my whole life screaming into the void, to make him listen. You are ruthless, but I know you will always treat me with kindness. It makes me feel special. More than you can imagine."

Shepard struggled to look at me properly.

Something of what I said had gotten to her.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Just when I'm about to close myself off…I feel you opening me back up again."

I wasn't sure why she would do that. "Tell me what's on your mind. Please, Shepard."

"You've been with me since the beginning, Tali. I don't want to hurt you. You're all I have left…"

"Then hold on to me."

It really was that simple. But Shepard wouldn't let herself admit as much.

So I took the initiative—I stood up, walked over to her, and sat down on her lap. Not just right next to her. Not just closer to her. Directly on her like this, encouraging Shepard to hold me in place. And she did. I could see this look of surprise from behind her helmet. Yet she didn't push me away or tell me to stop. As much as her armor was in the way, as my suit was, I needed to be closer to her like this. I didn't like this hardness of her gloves on me, but I needed her touch anyway. I needed her strong arms around my back, and around my waist, exactly as she did now.

Whatever look I gave her with my eyes, it was enough to keep catching her off-guard. Over and over again. And it made things more difficult as she tried to speak; as she tried to ask me:

"Are you sure about this…?"

"Yes, I am," I promised. "Why wouldn't I be? Or is Miranda not interested in an arrangement for us?"

"She is interested—that's not the issue. What I mean is…don't you want to hold out for—a real relationship with someone else? Instead of settling for second-best to her."

I didn't mean to sound so cynical as I laughed. "Shepard, let's just say I have a few screws loose. I already told you why that is. It's not ideal for a normal relationship. At this point in my life, I value my freedom too much. But I do need you. I've done my research into your lifestyle. And I want to live that with you. I'm not going anywhere, either. Unless you're turning me down. Again. So what will it be?"

"I'm not turning you down, Tali," she said, giving me such a relief. Emboldening me, too. "I really am surprised, that's all. I didn't know what to expect from this talk of ours. I guess, for now, it would help if you gave me some more background. What else changed with you? You do seem different than before."

"This must feel like a fast-forward in time. You're not used to me being so—forward. Pun intended."

"Yeah, something like that. I'm not complaining. I like this about you. I'm having a hard time adjusting, that's all."

"I understand. Sorry. Let me rewind, then… Being back here reminds me of how I used to be. Before I met you, I always had a lot of friends. But I also felt like I had to wear a mask around everyone. On top of the one I already wear with my suit. After a while, I saw the flaws in how communal my people are. Everyone expected me to conform to what was acceptable. Linking suit environments for intimacy, or risking a serious illness just to have regular sex with someone—that was all I had to look forward to. I wanted more than that. I was scared. Yet I wanted more. You are the answer I was afraid to face."

Shepard remembered, "Does this have anything to do with how you used to be afraid of me?"

"Yes," I breathed. "It wasn't just about your anger. Or your scowl. Or your attitude. At first, I was caught up with not wanting to displease you in any way. But then I reasoned with myself, wondering why that was so important to me. I realized that I wanted to be obedient to you. This grew into something more. Eventually. Mostly with wanting you to please me as a reward for my obedience. And then, this began to twist into yet another dynamic. The one I spent all this time longing for. While I missed you."

"So, the day we first talked about this—were you still scared? Is that why you didn't really put up a fight? Aside from what I had going on with Ash and Liara."

"I was terrified. You heard it in my voice. You saw me. I couldn't look at you. It was because of this."

"Then how'd you deal with it?"

I reminisced: "Before that day? I would use my nerve stim programs every night in bed. Thinking about you finding me in my room, frightening me all over again. When I learned how strong you are when handling a woman in bed, this added another layer. I would fantasize about you giving me that strength—for hours on-end. More than I could handle. More than what should have been allowed."

This sudden, dark smolder in Shepard's eyes nearly burned me alive…in the best way possible.

How wonderful it was to see the proof of my clairvoyant knowledge, shaping itself right in front of me.

She gave me the same feeling with her voice, "You want it rough. Is that it?"

"I want you to push my limits, Shepard. I want you to give me what you're holding back."

The moment I felt her body lock up—holding herself back, absolutely—I found my magic over her.

"And after that day," she said. "After we had that initial talk. How'd you deal with this from then on?"

"I did my research," was all I said. Convincingly coy.

Shepard controlled herself more from my coyness. "Into my lifestyle, like you mentioned."

"Right."

"What did you find out, then?"

I could only riddle, "Since you plan on making Miranda your queen, then I expect to be your princess."

Shepard recognized the obvious. I knew to use this language with her. I truly had done my research.

Even back before Ilos, I'd known. During that conversation. I had used this same analogy that night.

I only needed a little more. A bit more to show Shepard that I was serious about this—and that she had nothing to worry about. So I held her helmet in my hands. Wishing that this was her face instead, shaped in her full attention on me: completely beautiful, completely captivating. I gave her my complete truth:

"Shepard, I know that this might not last forever. Whatever happens will happen. I accept it. Yet I already lost you once. I want to live in the moment with you from now on. Like I should have done before."

Fully in this moment, Shepard had at last opened her eyes to this possibility for us.

No longer did she live with those blinders on.

She, too, finally saw me as an adult. A grown woman at last.

"You should know as well," I told her. "I will need to have a conversation with Miranda at some point, about this. Not immediately. I have to think about it first. But right now, I'd like to give you an invitation. If you're interested…then I can give you a little preview of me. What I look like. To help you make sure that I'm exactly what you want." I felt this smile on my face growing, just from her showing how she couldn't resist this girlishness about me—grown and all. "We could go to my room. Spend some time together. Without having sex. Maybe something a little close to it… Either way, you don't have to worry about my immune system. I've completely adapted to you now. No matter what we do, I won't get sick anymore."

"Then what do you want? Tell me."

"Mmm, that depends on you, Shepard. Whatever you decide, you should at least take some antibiotics. I'm assuming you have plenty stocked in your omni-tool. Take them, and then take me to my room. Or don't. It's up to you. I'll go along with what you're comfortable with. But I do want you to please me…"

Like controlling the beast myself, I found a taste of my own power:

Like magic, I watched that orange glow of Shepard's omni-tool activating around her body. Her meds, her antibiotics began to kick in. And that was her permission for us to do what I wanted. Or close to it.

Closer still, Shepard slipped one of her arms beneath the bends of my legs, and kept her other supporting me around my back. She then stood up and carried me down the hall with ease. So much ease: she nearly had me swaying back and forth in her hold, in how free I felt in her arms. Intuitive as ever as well, Shepard knew that the nearest bedroom was not mine. It was my father's. The one farther down the hall was mine. And the door unlocked as the system sensed my presence, letting us both in.

As the door locked behind us, Shepard went straight to my bed.

Cascading as water, her flowing movements stayed fluid as she set me down against my pillows. She settled herself between me without touching. Just close enough to lounge over me, her long legs bent and her fists pressed against my bed to prop her up. Being this close to her, in my own bed where I'd spent so long missing her, pining after her—I couldn't even think to hesitate, to stop myself at all.

I reached up and removed Shepard's helmet first. Setting it out of the way. And I was about to touch her hair—until I did hesitate. I stopped myself. I paused.

Accepting my consideration, Shepard nodded. Giving me her next permission that way.

I ran my hands through her hair. Eternally soft, straight, and shimmering. So gorgeous, just as she was. I felt my hands shaking from the meaning of this moment. This change. This progression, from existing in Shepard's periphery, on the fringes of her desires—to this new place, this new way she beheld me. The way she looked at me with these depths, admiring how I admired her: I wanted to live in this moment forever. I wanted to, even though I knew I couldn't. Living in the moment was simply a way for me to take advantage of the precious time we had together. Alone like this, for now. So I pushed this more:

I pulled off some more of Shepard's armor—her breastplate, her armguards, her gloves. I wanted them out of the way. I wanted to see her like this, with the tight material of her under armor, all-black over her torso and sleeved down her arms. She had her hands pressed over my bed now. Controlling herself.

And I pulled the mask from my face, setting my hood down.

Letting her see me at long last.

Unobstructed.

Finally, I could see the full spectrum of Shepard's sunlight. Her skin, her hair, and her eyes—her eyes that had widened so much in this beautiful shock. She made me smile with how speechless she was. She couldn't even breathe. Yet I breathed her in freely: this masculine scent about her, with her cologne, attracting me more. I held Shepard's face in my hands. Holding her reaction in my hands; reminding her to breathe by my touch. As this payoff of my insanities over the years, I could inhale her exhales with no risk whatsoever. I could taste this tasteless flavor of her breaths, shaped exactly as her lips, parted in this anticipation for me.

When I spoke, it was such a pure sound. No filters anymore—"You look surprised, Shepard. Are you?"

This heated glow in her eyes reflected the brights of mine. "Tali…you're vibrant. Beautiful."

"Thank you—so are you," I whispered. "I've spent so long wondering what this would feel like. I need to feel you—I need your skin against mine. I've been completely starved for touch like this. And I know you're not necessarily big on physical affection… But I still want—I need you to kiss me."

True command I felt in Shepard's palm holding my face, skin-on-skin.

This length of her fingers, and the elegance in their shape, mixed with the veiled energy she held back: she could have moved me any which way she wanted, and I would have gone with her movements. But it was the sheer suppleness of her skin against mine that got to me. The slight suction of her palm pressing right against my face, locking her to me. The vague heat building up behind her touch, as if her hand had started sweating with her nerves, and I just couldn't notice that nuance. Not with this sensory overload from her otherwise-normal feel on me.

Overloading, more, her eyes loaded into mine such a weighted story of emotion, heavy with time and gravity. Pulling me in as much as she she did, easing me farther down over my bed. Controlling me with her constant touch, reliable and true. Glittering as gold as her eyes did, shadowing more as she leaned over me, I saw the way she treasured me. How she made me feel special and rare and brand new—one of a kind.

Shepard shaped that same feeling over me through touch, again, giving it to me with her lips.

Overcome by her tastelessness, full and pressing and in-control, I heard the echoes of my own surprise shaped into her mouth. Easing into me, more, she pulled me right out of my mind. Weightless presence pressing down on me, with her touch, her body, everything—I lost my own senses, replaced with hers.

Replaced with her perception of me.

Replaced with what she thought of me.

Replaced with what she felt for me—the power of Shepard's mental prowess, changing my reality.

Shepard changed the entire landscape of my own imagination. All of those days and nights I'd spent fantasizing about this, shifted and shaped with the truth of how she felt. And how she actually made me feel…like someone else, someplace else. Still drifting among the stars in this endless space—but this time with her setting me off like this. Steering me with the way she held my back. Defining me with the way she controlled my body.

Never too heavy-handed.

Never too much.

Just right. Perfectly right. Right as I wanted, needed her to be. Like no one else ever could have done.

But in the middle of this bliss, I sensed the underlying reasons behind Shepard's mood today.

Something about these reasons worried me.

Pressing my hands to Shepard's shoulders, I put just enough pressure against her. Enough to stop her.

Genuinely into me, she took a moment to find my eyes again, whole in her responsiveness.

Once she spotted this concern about me, she used her fingers to comb her hair back and out of our way; giving me her full attention.

"Tali? What's the matter…?"

"I should be asking you that," I insisted. "There's something bothering you. I can see it. What's wrong?"

Caught off-guard, Shepard wouldn't say anything at first.

I embodied the contradiction of needing to be as one with her, and needing my own personal freedom.

Somehow, I had found the perfect balance through her own perfection: she saw it in my eyes, how entranced I was by her, and yet still…concerned. Still in-tune with her. Still able to sense her emotions.

Far more now that I knew the echo of her pulse reverberating through her breaths, and the taste of it.

Shepard's contemplation echoed through her in a similar way. I watched it pulse outward, strumming and thrumming as waves. Forever locked on the same wavelength, she couldn't escape the obvious.

I held her face in my hands, encouraging, "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I want you to be honest."

"…it's about Miranda."

"Okay. What about her?"

Heartbreaking, Shepard's expression fell into true agony. "I think she's keeping something from me."

Such a difficult time she had, looking me in the eye.

Something in her spirit had fallen.

I pulled her closer, having her lie down over me. Shepard let herself relax; let me stroke her hair, keeping her head over my chest. As tall as she was, her legs had extended well past the edge of my bed. But she seemed comfortable enough, deflating the rest of her pride in my hold. I felt that deflation each time she breathed against my neck, finally relying on me like this. She seemed to feel at home with me.

Gentle, I asked, "What do you feel she's keeping from you? When did this start?"

"Earlier today," she murmured. "When I woke up in the med bay, Miranda was there. She was pissed at me for trying to protect her…but I understood her pain. I didn't blame her. I felt like we would be fine once she had some time to cool off. Then, once she left, I felt a change. I don't know how to describe it. But she proved me right, just before the meeting we had with the team. That's when she suddenly told me she was fine with this arrangement between you and me. I still knew better than to argue with her."

Now that I thought about it, Shepard had sounded strangely passive about this whole thing…

I pretended as if I had no idea—"Was Miranda not fine with this before?"

"She completely shot it down. We had a couple of conversations about how possessive she is, too. Then all of a sudden, she's saying it's okay for me to act on my feelings for you. It doesn't make any sense."

"What do you think the explanation could be? Is she really angry with you? Trying to push you away?"

"No…I think it's the opposite," said Shepard, sounding as if the truth arrived with her words: "She's trying to hold on to me. She's convinced that you had some kind of plans to seduce me, even though you wouldn't do that unless I gave you a sign first. Or maybe you'd influence me away from her, because of Cerberus. Someone planted the idea in her head. The illusion."

I understood: "Was this from the Illusive Man? He and Miranda must think I'll turn you against them."

Shepard gripped my sheets in helplessness, frustration. "He's manipulating her. Right in front of my eyes…"

That did make the most sense, but… "How do you know for certain?"

Shepard then told me the story—the confidentiality the Illusive Man had shared with her. About how he had spent all these years manipulating Miranda in other ways: downplaying Cerberus' evil ways. Insisting that any such cases, like Jack's torturous past, were merely from groups that had gone rogue. And so, at some point, the Illusive Man planned on showing Miranda the truth. Liberating her that way.

Until then, Shepard couldn't say a word. Yet even still, what could she possibly say? She knew on instinct that Miranda would merely deny any such allegations about Cerberus' true nature. Unfortunately, it was the same with this. The two of them couldn't have a real conversation without risking a horrible argument.

Very much the opposite of Shepard's time with Ashley, with the two of them arguing terribly at times.

Here was Shepard avoiding arguments altogether. Even as she recognized that Miranda was the victim.

The only thing she could do was wait. Waiting for that mythical moment. Waiting for change to arrive.

I could see that Miranda was worth it. This woman, more than anyone, was absolutely worth the wait.

But in the meantime, Shepard had clipped her own wings. She didn't have the freedom to be honest.

Constricting her own voice, I feared that Shepard would suffocate under the weight of her devotion.

So I asked the obvious question, "How does it make you feel? Really."

Shepard allowed herself to hold me tighter. Her voice nearly broke, breaking me: "This is killing me…"

The moment I felt her eyes leaking through to my enviro-suit, I knew.

I knew that Miranda was the one—and I wanted her to be.

I forced myself to smile past Shepard's clear heartbreak in this moment. "You adore her. Don't you?"

Shepard muttered against me, "I more-than-adore her, Tali…"

"Then the solution is clear. Everything will reveal itself once Miranda sees Cerberus for what it is. Then, the two of you can have a real talk. Do you believe you can be patient until that day comes?"

"Yeah, I can… It's also reminding me that I have something else to tell you. Something of a secret."

"What kind of secret?" I wondered.

"I'm not ready to tell you yet," she anguished. "I need some more time first. Then I'll share it. I promise."

"And I promise to wait. It's okay."

Something about Shepard's silence told me that this wasn't okay. Yet she had to tell me anyway.

Hoping to continue with the previous subject, I gave her my honesty: "Well, about Cerberus. The truth is, I don't trust them. You know I don't. What they pulled with the Idenna here in the Migrant Fleet is unforgivable. I'm choosing to make some exceptions for the mission—and because they brought you back to me. But other than that, I will have to hold my tongue on the ship and around the team."

"I understand, Tali… Thank you. I appreciate you sticking by me, despite everything."

Despite everything, indeed, I felt entirely fulfilled by the way she leaned on me for support now.

Yet I still had to speak my mind—"Maybe you feel the same way about this… Miranda is going to make a mistake. There will come a time when she has to choose between her loyalty to Cerberus, and her loyalty to you. Depending on how the Illusive Man goes about things, she won't even realize she's making such a critical choice. It will be a huge test. And her decision will end up being the wrong one."

Shepard sighed against me. "You're right," she agreed. "I'm just going to have to let her do it. If we can't survive this, then we have no chance against the Reapers. I have to be realistic about this situation."

"But it still hurts. Doesn't it?"

"Yeah…it does."

Even so, I couldn't see her choosing any other path.

I only hoped that this wouldn't end up breaking her too badly. I didn't want her to sacrifice herself again. Metaphorically this time.

"What's next, then?" I asked her. "I don't mind playing this role with you, to keep Miranda from asking too many questions—or getting suspicious. You and I shouldn't do anything more until I speak with her about our arrangement. So how will we proceed with the mission from here?"

"Well, Miranda pretty much ordered me to take it easy for a few more days. No combat for a little while. And in my decision to avoid these arguments with her, I've been thinking about the past. I want us to pay our respects to the original Normandy. The crash site and the old wreckage is on that same planet, with the snow. We should go pay a visit. Set up a memorial. Spend some time with the ones we've lost."

"Yes, we should…" I glanced at my turned-around picture with Liara on the shelf. "There's someone in particular that you never had the chance to say goodbye to. I suppose it's the same for me. Even though I can't see myself ever forgiving her. That doesn't really matter. Paying our respects is more important."

"We'll head over to Alchera in a couple of days or so. I'll give you and Jack some time to settle in on the ship first. I want us to rest before our next big mission on Horizon. Kaidan's supposed to be there."

Kaidan. The other member of our group that we'd basically excluded, knowing that he wouldn't listen.

"You know what I'm thinking," said Shepard.

I decided: "We should tell him the truth. Of course, Kaidan will be upset at first… But he deserves to know. I'll talk with Joker, Wrex, and Garrus. See if we can break the story to Kaidan before we find him on Horizon. Maybe that will help you convince him to join the team. You know, get it out of the way."

"We're going to have to do it that way. I'll let you three sort it out before the mission, then. I'll take care of the rest once we find Kaidan again. I owe him that much."

At last, no matter what else went on, I felt at peace with Shepard, with what we had. We could speak about these private, sensitive topics, knowing what to share and what to keep secret. Unspoken, we had our agreement. Our arrangement. Our understanding that we had our sanctuary together, safe from the storm outside. That constant storm of secrets and lies and manipulations that Shepard could not, would not face head-on for the first time in her life.

I truly believed that her patience would pay off—just as mine had, if not more.