XXII
A Question of Loyalty: Flotilla
Garrus's omni-tool buzzed toward the end of Normandy's night cycle. Shepard had sent them through the star system again, scanning for resources Solus and Taylor could use to upgrade the ship and everybody's weapons tech. The relief pilot was flying the ship, and the graveyard shift workers were working the scanners and the probe bay.
Garrus woke up disoriented. He'd had trouble falling asleep after their escape from the Collector ship, but absolute exhaustion could only be ignored for so long before it took over, and he hadn't popped a stim since Omega. He sat up in the battery, lights powered down for the night. His eyes burned, but that was just typical. He rubbed them, blinked, and looked down at his 'tool. There were only three people it would have woken him for.
Garrus flipped open the trunk by his cot and grabbed his visor. He clipped it on, powering it up. It connected to his omni-tool immediately. A video-chat invitation blinked on his interface. He hit the button to reject the call but went ahead and opened a real-time chat connection.
It's 0430 here, Sol, and we're at FTL again. What do you need?
Her answer came in less than a minute. 0430? About time to get up anyway, then, isn't it?
Not after yesterday it's not, he typed.
Bad day? came the reply.
I've had worse. What's going on?
There was silence for a moment. Then, Mom forgot where she was standing today and fell down the front stairs.
Garrus sighed. Is she all right? Solana would have told him immediately if there'd been an emergency, he knew. That didn't mean everything was fine. Garrus fought to smother the flicker of frustration he felt. We don't have time to deal with this. I don't have time to deal with it. But it's not Mom's fault she's sick, and it's not Solana's fault either. And it's happening. He swallowed and closed his eyes until his omni-tool buzzed again.
Mild concussion. She'll be fine. Aside from the Corpalis. It's getting worse. Not that you care.
Garrus stood up and went to the battery console. He flipped on the battery lights and started up the calibration sequence. Then he typed a response. That's not fair.
The power draw had got a little out of hand during the night shift, so Garrus made a couple of corrections so Donnelly wouldn't be chewing him out later for leaving the cooling systems or the computation grid vulnerable. He started a simulation to judge the state of the targeting systems. Then Solana's reply came in. None of this shit is fair. I'm sorry. It's good to hear from you. I'm worried about you too, you know.
His omni-tool buzzed again. The vids are starting to come out, you know. No one took the viral vid those kids made about Zombie Shepard seriously, but now there's four more. They're crap. I saw about twenty minutes each of two of them and nearly laughed my ass off, but people are starting to talk. Somehow everyone's got this idea that your Commander Shepard is back from the dead. Working for Cerberus.
Garrus stared down at the glowing message. Some of the highest-ranking admirals in the Hierarchy could walk down the Presidium without turning a single alien head. Soldiers, even heroes, weren't usually celebrities to anyone but their own kind. But Shepard had started out different. Ever since Akuze, she'd been getting everyone's attention. After she'd become the first human Spectre and saved the Citadel from Saren's attack, she was probably more famous than the most popular human actors, businesspeople, and politicians—on Earth, Arcturus, or the Citadel.
The rumors had probably been inevitable. It didn't really matter who'd started them—a dancer on Omega, an escaped merc or Purgatory inmate, a lower-level Cerberus or Alliance operative, even, out to impress a date. I'll bet the Council's thrilled. They won't have to lift a finger to attack her after this. The story practically spins itself. They can let it run, and they won't have to defend ignoring the Reapers. Cerberus has made its reputation. And it's more or less deserved.
Garrus looked at the readout from the simulation and selected one of his custom-built calibration sequences. Then he turned around to make up his cot. Shepard usually stayed in the front of the battery on her rounds, but Lawson did occasionally try to catch him out of order—more to keep him on his toes now than out of any resentment, he thought. Once he was satisfied the creases would pass inspection, he brought up his omni-tool to reply. You shouldn't get your news from crap vids. You should know to wait for the official report. Then you watch the decent channels for second- and third-hand interpretations, speculation, and gossip. Of course, even then, odds are you're being lied to, but at least it's a better lie.
He'd have to set up an encrypted file for the Hierarchy, he realized. Send it to his father. And hope he doesn't just shred it on principle. Burned my bridges on the Citadel, and no one else is waiting to hear from a dropout prospective Spectre.
But there's no guarantee I'll be making an official report in person.
When he got Solana's reply, it was acidic. A lie's better than no information at all. G, tell me you're NOT "consulting" for undead, human supremacist terrorists while our mother's dying.
The lump in his throat and the sick feeling in his chest were old friends by now. Garrus took a breath and swallowed. I'm not consulting for an undead, human supremacist terrorist, he replied, completely honestly. He didn't know what Shepard was since Alchera, but she definitely wasn't a zombie, and the idea that anyone who knew her could call her a human supremacist or a terrorist almost made him laugh. But not in a funny way. I'm doing good work here, Solana. Trust me.
She didn't reply for a moment. Then she said, No one who's really trustworthy ever has to ask for it, G. Mom's up. I have to go. Don't die today, okay?
Connection terminated, his visor reported. Garrus tried to smile. She had been almost polite. It doesn't make it any better.
It was still before 0530, so Rupert wasn't in the mess yet. There was a pot of asiita right next to the coffee on the burner that said someone that liked him was already up. He sniffed at it and guessed Doc Chakwas or Shepard had made the pot—Goto and Chambers had tried a few times, too, but they generally made the asiita too weak, while the one time he'd caught Jack at it, it'd been strong enough to peel paint. He still wasn't sure if it'd been an ironic prank or an awkward conciliatory gesture.
Garrus poured himself a cup and pulled a couple of synthesized protein blocks off of the dextro shelf in the pantry. It didn't take long to slice them up and fry them with a sauce he'd had Gardner requisition on Illium. It was still space junk, not half as good as a proper dextro meal on a hub world. There were supplies to cook one if he wanted. Garrus sighed. So sue me. Junk's quicker.
He plated his breakfast and started scouring the pan before he ate when Shepard walked in. As he'd guessed, her hair was already pinned up and gelled down for a mission, though she was still in uniform. They were a couple of hours away from their destination, then. "Headed for the DMZ?" he asked.
She shook her head, walking around to join him, pouring a cup of coffee for herself and leaning against the counter. "Valhallan Threshold," she said.
"So in the exact opposite direction. Any reason why?" Garrus kept his voice casual. It was also in the exact opposite direction from the Citadel. He put the pan on the drying rack for Gardner, placed the sauce and protein packages back in the pantry, and grabbed his plate, asiita, and a utensil from the drawer.
Shepard walked with him back over to the mess tables and sat opposite him with her coffee. "It's at least two days and about three fuel stops closer than the DMZ," she replied. "And last night Tali got a notice from the Migrant Fleet. She's been accused of treason and summoned back for trial. If we don't get her there soon, they could try her in absentia."
Garrus blinked. "Tali's been accused of treason." The concepts seemed impossible to reconcile. Tali'Zorah vas Neema cared more about her people than a lot of turians he'd known cared about theirs. "What in the galaxy did she do?" A thought occurred to him, and anger flushed through him hot and fast. "It isn't because she's with us—"
Shepard was already shaking her head. "She got leave. I got a curt, irritated letter from her father a while ago approving it, with a none-too-subtle 'If anything happens to my little girl' threat included. The admiralty board hasn't told Tali what this is about. I hope Grunt can keep for a few hours, because if he can't, we'd be in trouble before we made it to Tuchanka anyway. I want to take care of this now."
Garrus hummed. "What are we doing about Grunt in the meantime?" In the intense agitation he called a 'blood haze' in his mind, the krogan had already cracked a window in the cargo hold. He'd been pacing and growling down there since Illium and was making everyone else almost as nervous as he was.
"I asked Taylor, Massani, and Samara to run target practice with him in the shuttle bay this morning. Jacob said they might play some two-a-side basketball after that. EDI will lock the bay down for the duration. Mordin is working with Dr. Chakwas to come up with a mild sedative—just enough to calm him down for the evening. If all goes well today, we'll be done here and on Tuchanka late tomorrow night." Shepard frowned and looked down at the table. It occurred to Garrus that sometimes he was really glad he wasn't in charge anymore.
"Taylor really thinks Samara will agree to play two-a-side basketball with our baby krogan?" Garrus asked her. Somehow, it didn't surprise him that Massani would. "And Niels is letting them all in the shuttle bay without throwing a fit?"
Shepard shrugged. "Samara's interested in learning human games, and with Taylor and Massani, there's a chance they can rein Grunt in if things get rough. As for the shuttle bay—it'd be hard for even Grunt to destroy the Kodiak." She met his eyes and the corner of her mouth quirked up. "And you like fixing the Hammerhead."
Garrus finished his breakfast. "Well. As long as we have a plan. But you think Grunt will agree to take a sedative Mordin made for him?"
"Okeer gave Grunt a lot of cultural memories, but he's got his own mind and his own interpretations of them," Shepard explained. "In his head, Mordin's part of my clan—not affiliated with the people that gave the krogan the genophage." Something flickered in her eyes for a moment—anger? Then it was gone, and she sighed. "More than anything, Grunt wants to be a soldier. He wants to keep whatever's going on under control."
Since this was in line with Garrus's own observations, he accepted it. He stood with his tray. Across the room, Gardner had begun preparing breakfast for the day shift. Garrus could hear the crew stirring in the barracks down the deck. He took his tray over to Gardner, who took it with a good morning and a smile. "You eaten yet, Commander?" he asked Shepard. "Grits and turkey bacon biscuits this morning—those new supplies from Illium are sure coming in handy."
"I had a bagel and an egg earlier, thanks, Rupert."
Gardner shook his head. "You two. Sometimes I wonder if you sleep. You take great care of us, Shepard. Make sure you take care of yourself, too, eh?"
Garrus took a look at Shepard's gelled hair again. "You going aboard the Migrant Fleet with Tali today?" he asked her.
"Maybe I can speak for her, I don't know," Shepard agreed. "Especially if whatever she's being accused of happened while she was with us."
"Mmm. Think she'd mind if I came along?"
Shepard looked up. "Why don't you ask her?" she suggested. Tali had just come on deck. She was walking toward them, too fast, wringing her hands nervously already. Shepard walked to her and drew her aside. "Hey, hey," she said softly, gripping Tali's shoulder. "Relax. It'll be fine."
"You can't say that, Shepard," Tali told her. "I've been accused of treason. That's not an accusation the admiralty board throws around lightly. How long until we arrive?"
Shepard checked her omni-tool. "Probably about three hours," she said.
"As soon as Joker brings us into the system, we'll need to call them to verify it isn't an attack," Tali said. "This ship is registered to Cerberus. Unless we tell them this is the Normandy, they're likely to fire on us."
"Just another side benefit of working with the Illusive Man," Garrus joked. "Tali—Shepard told me what's happening. If you'd like me to be there for the hearing, I'm there."
"I appreciate that, Garrus," Tali said. "Your support means a lot."
"You should try to eat something," Garrus suggested. "It might help settle your nerves."
"Or give me something to vomit up," Tali retorted. "You don't know what nausea is like inside this suit. But I'll try."
Three hours later, Garrus met Tali and Shepard in the cockpit by the airlock. He wasn't surprised to see Shepard had armed up like he had—she never went anywhere without her guns. He was a little surprised that Tali had, and he wondered if the admiralty board would take her weapons before the trial. They were just coming out of the mass relay, and Garrus saw hundreds of yellow lights pop up on the display as the ladar registered ship emissions. Fighters, cruisers, ships the size of dreadnaughts—the quarian flotilla was a thing to see. He saw the digital signatures of ships centuries old, of ships made by every culture. The ships that looked like they had been originally turian, though, had been heavily modified since. Every ship in the fleet would be, he knew, adapted to serve the needs of a people that lived entirely in space.
"Look at 'em all," Joker breathed. "I mean, they tell you the quarians have the largest fleet in the galaxy, but that—that's something else. Not sure a lot of them would be much good in a fight—but still!"
"Jeff, we're going to need you to hail the fleet," Shepard said calmly.
"Which ship?" Joker asked, opening up the communications panel.
"The liveship Raaya," Tali told him. "That's where the trial will be held."
"Got it."
A green light flicked on near the controls, a circular panel behind Joker's seat lit up with a faint, orange light, and Tali stepped onto it. Her image would be projected onto the Raaya's bridge when the ship accepted the call. "This is Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Raaya, requesting permission to dock with the Raaya," she said.
A holoscreen came up in front of the window, and a quarian male responded. "Our system has your ship flagged as Cerberus. Verify," he said curtly.
"'After time adrift upon open stars, along tides of light, and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began,'" Tali quoted.
On the screen, the quarian nodded. "Permission granted. Welcome home, Tali'Zorah."
"We'd like a security and quarantine team to meet us," Tali told him. "Our ship is not clean."
"Understood." A line rendering of the Raaya appeared on the screen where the quarian had been, and a green port flashed, showing Joker where to go. "Approach Exterior Docking Cradle Seventeen."
The transmission ended, and Tali turned to Garrus and Shepard. "I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but you'll need to wear your helmets aboard the Raaya. Your germs could infect the sterile environment and endanger some of the citizens on board."
"It's no problem, Tali," Shepard said, already donning hers. Garrus followed suit.
"Thank you. And thank you both for coming. I—I appreciate it."
In addition to the usual sonic decontamination procedure in the airlock of the Raaya, the quarian security and decontamination team instructed them to step one at a time into a special decontamination chamber off the corridor for a full rinse of their armor and equipment with multiple air and steam jets. They were then each given towels to completely dry their suits and armor while the team briefed them on the Fleet's hygiene protocols for visiting aliens.
As Tali said, they weren't to remove their helmets—or any piece of armor—unless they were taken to specifically designated, airlock-sealed, open-air rooms, which would be made available to them for toilet functions and in the event that their stay lasted overnight. They were asked for any rations or canteens they had brought aboard—the contents of which were disposed of in a bin out of the airlock. The team sterilized the containers and refilled their canteens with purified water. The team then wished them a pleasant visit and let them pass into the main body of the Raaya—without taking their weapons.
Garrus stared as they walked into the ship proper. The Raaya was incredible—the size of a military dreadnaught, but the entire ship was devoted to production of food for the Migrant Fleet. Ceilings were high and airy, the walls were decorated with colorful tapestries and murals, and the lights overhead were growlights, designed to grow plants in an artificial environment. More quarians than Garrus had ever seen together milled around in the halls in suits of all different colors, styles, and patterns. For the quarian people, this was the closest thing they had to a homeworld.
As amazing as it was, though, it was impossible to ignore the vibration of the engines underneath his feet, the cold emptiness of space outside of the windows, the confines of the walls. He enjoyed space travel—but imagining the restriction of it when a species had no choice made his plates itch. Told not to take it off, already his helmet felt hot and heavy.
But Tali's lived—will live—here her entire life. Or a place just like it.
A quarian was waiting for them in the corridor before the ship opened up to a common area. He shook Shepard's hand immediately. "Captain Shepard," he said. "My name is Kar'Danna, captain of the Raaya. Tali'Zorah told me a lot about you. I wish we could be meeting under more pleasant circumstances."
Shepard shifted. "Honestly, 'Shepard' is probably best," she told him. "I never reached the rank of captain, and technically I'm no longer in the Alliance military at all."
"You're the commander of the Normandy, responsible for the lives aboard it," Captain Danna corrected her. "That entitles you to respect among our people. May you stand between your crew and harm as you lead them through the empty quarters of the stars."
"Keelah se'lai," Tali responded. "It's an old ship captain's blessing, Shepard," she explained.
Shepard bowed her head respectfully. "Tali's helped the Normandy's crew a great deal. I'm here to return the favor. This is our friend and colleague, Garrus Vakarian."
Captain Danna shook his hand as well. "Yes. You accompanied Captain Shepard and Tali'Zorah before. I've heard good things. Welcome." He turned to Shepard and Tali again. "As the commander of the vessel Tali serves on, your voice carries weight. I wish I could do more to help, Tali. The trial requires that I be officially neutral, but I'm here if you need to talk. They're charging you with bringing active geth into the fleet as part of a secret project."
Tali stepped back. "That's insane!" she cried. "I never brought active geth aboard! I only sent parts and pieces!"
Garrus checked. She's been sending geth back to the Fleet? Shepard's helmet turned to Tali. Apparently, this was news to her as well. "You sent geth materials back to the Migrant Fleet." Her voice was unreadable.
"Yes," Tali confirmed. "My father was working on a project; he needed the materials." She looked at Captain Danna. "If I sent back something that was only damaged, not permanently inactive . . . No. No. No. I checked everything. I was careful."
Danna shifted. "Technically, I'm under orders to place Tali under arrest pending the hearing," he admitted uncomfortably. "So, Tali: you're confined to this ship until this trial is over."
Official instructions or not, it was clear the captain was on Tali's side. Looking side to side, the only guards Garrus saw were on the airlock. If Tali could go anywhere onboard, she was hardly under arrest at all. Danna trusted her. Tali bowed her head. "Thank you, Captain."
"Preparations got underway as soon as you arrived," Danna told them. "The hearing is being held in the garden plaza. Good luck."
"Geth?" Garrus asked under his breath as Tali led them onward.
Tali was defensive. "You know my people have an interest in the geth," she said. "I'm a loyal citizen of the Migrant Fleet. When my government asked me to do field research on the enemy, I complied. But they're accusing me of endangering the fleet! I don't know—"
She paused, seeing another quarian, this one female in a black suit with elaborate silver stitching. This woman opened her arms. "Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," she said in an older-sounding, accented contralto even lower than Shepard's. Garrus frowned, but Tali ran to her, hugging her warmly. "I am glad you came. I could delay them only so long."
"Auntie Raan!" Tali said fondly. She drew back from the older woman. "Captain Beth'Shepard vas Normandy, Garrus'Vakarian vas Palaven, this is Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tombay. She's a friend of my father's." Then it hit her, and she faltered. "Wait, Raan . . ."she said, and the hurt in her voice sent a stab of sympathy through Garrus. "You called me vas Normandy."
"I'm afraid I did, Tali," Admiral Raan said quietly. "The admiralty board moved to have you tried under that name, given your departure from the Neema."
Shepard stepped forward, folding her arms. "I take it being associated with a human ship is a bad sign?"
Tali was furious. "They stripped me of my ship name! That's as good as declaring me exiled already," she cried.
Shala'Raan shook her head. "It's not over yet, Tali. You have friends who still know you as Tali'Zorah vas Neema, whatever we must call you legally."
"You're an admiral," Shepard noted. "Does that mean you're one of the judges?"
"I'm afraid not," Raan told them. "My history with Tali and her father forced me to recuse myself."
Garrus guessed she would have had to. Quarians were only permitted to have one child, except during times of serious population decline, but Tali was close enough to Raan to call her aunt. Tali was grim. "I imagine father had to do the same."
Shala'Raan shifted, and the bad feeling Garrus had had since he'd heard 'vas Normandy' got worse. "You'll see inside, Tali," she said. She looked at Shepard. "For my part, I moderate and ensure that the rules of protocol are followed, but I have no vote in the judgment."
"I guess we should get started," Shepard said. "Does Tali have a defense counselor? Someone who speaks for her side?"
"Indeed she does, Captain Shepard," Raan confirmed. "She is a part of your crew now, recognized by quarian law. And remember: an accused is always represented by his or her ship's captain."
This gets better and better. Danna and Raan had been very deliberate in calling her 'Captain Shepard,' Garrus realized. It was the role she'd play in this trial, completely unprepared. They've stacked the deck against Tali every way they can, haven't they?
"I see," Shepard said in her driest tone. "So that's me. And here I haven't done my reading on quarian law." She reached out and gripped Tali's shoulder. "Tali—I'll do everything I can."
Tali gripped her arm. "Thank you, Shepard. I could not ask for a better advocate."
Someone who believes in her, someone to fight for her? Maybe not. But if I were her, I might want a quarian lawyer, Garrus thought. He didn't say so. Most situations only needed so much pessimism, and the way things looked for Tali now, he didn't blame her for trying to be as positive as she could.
But Shala'Raan told them not to worry about the law. "Our legal rules are simple," she said. "There are no legal tricks or political loopholes for you to worry about. Present the truth as best ye can. It will have to be enough. Now come. I promised that I would not delay you."
The garden plaza was laid out amphitheatre-style, with long, curved benches facing a dais, surrounded by planters that held small trees and hedges. There was an aisle down the center of the benches, and in the middle of the aisle, someone had set up a podium where Shepard and Tali were obviously meant to stand. Shala'Raan directed them to it and told Garrus to sit in the gallery. Quarian civilians, some talking about the other ships they came from, filed in and sat around, while the admiral made her way to the center of the dais. She would be the judge—but this trial would be decided only by the members of the admiralty board that had not recused themselves—the three quarians sitting behind the dais on either side of Admiral Raan.
The murmuring in the gallery grew to a dull roar before Raan brought up her hands to quiet everyone. "This conclave is brought to order," she said, her voice carrying through the garden plaza and echoing off the high ceiling of the room. "Blessed are the ancestors who kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season. Keelah se'lai."
"Keelah se'lai," the quarians around the room intoned.
"The accused, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, has come with her captain to defend herself against the charge of treason."
"Objection!" one of the males on the board cried. He wore a white suit with dull red accents, and his voice was strong and clear, if a bit nasal. "A human has no business at a hearing involving such sensitive military matters!"
"Then you should not have declared Tali crew of the Normandy, Admiral Koris," Raan retorted. "By right as Tali's captain, Shepard must stay."
Garrus could see Koris thinking. Raan would uphold Tali's rights—he couldn't leave Tali without any advocate. So what's more important? Garrus wondered. The security of the quarian military or the politics of leaving Tali without a quarian defender? If this hearing touched on quarian military secrets, any military officer worth a damn would immediately reinstate Tali's ship name, bring the captain of the Neema up to the dais, and dismiss Shepard and Garrus from the trial. But—
"Objection withdrawn," Koris said finally, subdued. Bastard, Garrus thought.
"Beth'Shepard vas Normandy," Raan said, running Shepard's first and last names together in the quarian custom. "Your crew member Tali'Zorah stands accused of treason. Will you speak for her?"
Shepard's back was to Garrus, her head hidden in her helmet, and Garrus realized once again how much of communication was nonverbal. Tali exaggerated her cues, moving her arms, walking around, and modulating her voice to get her point across. In this environment, Shepard was boxing at a disadvantage against more than a law she was unfamiliar with. She's not used to giving speeches in full armor. Will she be able to persuade a quarian audience at all?
He saw her take a breath, push her shoulders back, and raise her head. Her arms came up, and Garrus knew she wasn't going to have a problem. "If it helps Tali, I will," she said, projecting her tone like Raan through the space. "But in her heart, she remains Tali'Zorah vas Neema, a proud member of the Migrant Fleet. I regret that her captain is forbidden to stand at her side today."
Koris flared up again. "Nobody has been forbidden from anything! It is a simple—"
The other male on the board, also dressed in white, but with light brown accents, interrupted with a sweep of his arm. "Lie to them if you must, Zal'Koris," he cried in a sharp baritone, "but don't lie to me and expect me to stay silent! The human is right!"
Raan raised a hand. "Admirals, please! Shepard's willingness to represent Tali'Zorah in this hearing is officiated." She looked at Tali. "Tali, you are accused of bringing active geth to the Migrant Fleet. What say you?"
"Tali is innocent of the charge," Shepard said firmly.
Tali wrung her hands, but spoke up to clarify. Quarians—fairly informal in court, Garrus noted. "I would never send active geth to the fleet. I sent parts and pieces to aid my father's research, but everything I sent was disabled and harmless."
Koris leaned forward. "Then explain how geth seized the lab ship where your father was working," he said in a nasty tone.
Tali stepped back. "What are you talking about?" she gasped. "What happened?!"
"As far as we can tell, Tali, the geth have killed everyone on the Alarei," the other man said in a gentler voice. "Your father included."
Garrus wanted to stand up, and Shepard wrapped an arm around Tali as she reeled. "What? Oh, Keelah!"
Shepard squeezed Tali's shoulder and addressed the board. "I appreciate the need for this trial, admirals, but right now our first concern must be the safety of the Migrant Fleet. The Normandy stands ready to assist in whatever capacity necessary."
Raan nodded gravely. "Thank you. Quarian strike teams have attempted to retake the ship, so far without success."
Tali turned to Shepard, clasping her hands in front of her. "Shepard, we have to take back the Alarei!" Her voice was desperate, and Garrus was suddenly very glad Shepard never went anywhere without her guns.
"The safest course would be to simply destroy the ship," Koris said, and his voice turned down into a sneer once again, "but if you are looking for an honorable death instead of exile—"
Tali threw off Shepard's arm and stepped forward, jabbing a finger at the admiral. "I'm looking for my father, you bosh'tet!"
The gallery exploded with murmurs and recriminations. Raan called for order again and stared at Tali. "You intend to retake the Alarei from the geth? This proposal is extremely dangerous," she warned them.
Now Garrus did stand and walked over to stand beside Tali and Shepard. It was time to show the quarians the two of them weren't alone. Shepard gave him the slightest nod, but she replied to the board. "With your permission, admirals, yes. The good of the fleet must come first, and Tali needs to find her father."
The milder man looked across Raan to the female sitting on her other side, like Raan, dressed in black, but with white accents. She had yet to speak, but she clasped her hands in front of her visor in an anticipatory posture and nodded at her fellow admiral. "Agreed," the man said. "And if you die on this worthy mission, Tali, we will see that your name is cleared of these charges."
Koris tensed. "We can discuss that later," he said in an undertone. He's sold on convicting—but why?
Raan laid her hands flat on the top of her podium. "Then it is decided. You will attempt to retake the Alarei. You are hereby given leave to depart the Raaya. A shuttle will be waiting at a secondary docking hangar. Be safe, Tali. This hearing will resume upon your return or upon determination that you have been killed in action." She made a gesture, apparently dismissing the gallery, and everyone started talking at once.
Garrus followed Tali and Shepard a little ways away from their podium. Tali gripped Shepard's arm. "Thank you for agreeing to take back the Alarei, Shepard," she said. "The admirals sound sure that my father is already dead, but . . . I don't know. We won't know anything until we get there." She turned to him, bouncing on her toes nervously. "Garrus, will you—"
He cut her off. "I'm there."
She sighed in relief and released Shepard to clasp his arm as well. "Thank you. You are the best friends anyone could ever ask for."
"We're here for you, Tali," Shepard assured her. "How are you holding up? They just threw a lot of fire at you, even before telling you about your father."
Tali hesitated. "I knew this would be bad, but I guess you're never really prepared to be charged with treason," she admitted. Worry was thick in her voice. "And my father . . . I don't know. He . . . he could still be alive. They don't know for certain that he's dead. I just don't know, Shepard, and I need to find out."
Shepard nodded. "Is there anyone here you want to talk to before we go?"
"It might be a good idea," Garrus observed. "All respect to Admiral Raan, but I could hear the politics back there. This might not be as simple as it seems."
Tali shifted. "It might help us to see what their viewpoints are, but I doubt we'll change anyone's mind by talking to them privately," she said.
Shepard nodded decisively. "Let's go."
"Let's hurry," Tali implored her. "The sooner we get to the Alarei, the sooner we'll know what happened."
EDI spoke over their radio. "Shepard, the secondary docking hangar is through the conclave chamber where you are now. The shuttle they have provided is unarmed."
"Understood," Shepard said.
"Whatever geth are on the Alarei have likely built more of themselves. Expect heavy resistance," EDI warned. Garrus wondered if the quarians knew there was another AI in their system, and he sighed.
"Why is nothing ever easy?"
Garrus let Shepard and Tali handle talking to the admirals. He hung back and observed the crowd in the plaza. It would be useful to know what most of the citizens thought of her. The geth were a big deal anyway, but to the quarians—well. The geth had killed 90 percent of their population and driven them off every planet they held three hundred years ago. Allowing the enemy into this very fragile environment was probably the worst thing any quarian could be accused of—even if it had been unintentional.
Listening to the people talking, Garrus heard a lot of debate about Tali's guilt—but almost unanimous approval of Shepard's approach to the defense. Tali seemed to be well-liked here. For all the severity of her charges, most of the quarians around seemed to feel Koris was being overly antagonistic to a prominent and previously blameless member of the Fleet. A few had come from other ships to speak for her.
One of them was the marine they had met on Haestrom, Kal'Reegar. Shepard greeted him with considerable warmth, for her, unmistakably relieved to learn he'd survived his injuries there. He'd made a good impression that day. "How have you been, Reegar?" Shepard asked. "You took kind of a beating on Haestrom."
Reegar shrugged. "Physical damage wasn't bad. I was down for about a week with infection, though." He looked at Tali. "Figure I got off easy. I don't have to face those admirals."
"With your immune systems, it couldn't be easy for quarians to fight a war," Shepard observed. "You'd lose more people to infection than injury."
"We can't afford a frontline attack, that's for sure. Have to fight smart. Ideally from orbit," Reegar agreed.
"We do have stockpiles of antibiotics," Tali argued. "It's not as though everyone would die from a single shot."
Maybe not, but a lot of them could. Penetrate the visor, even just a crack, and any airborne germ could do the job for you. Don't even need to break the skin. Some quarians were tough sons of bitches. Reegar was one. Tali was that kind, too. But Shepard didn't just prefer Tali in engineering because she was young. Open combat was about ten times more dangerous for her anyway.
Reegar agreed. "No, Shepard's right. You've only seen our strike ops, Tali. Don't have all the fancy equipment in a frontline fight. Supplies get strained. Things get ugly, fast."
"What are you doing aboard the Raaya? It sounds like you gave your report to the admiralty already," Shepard said.
Reegar cleared his throat. "Er . . . uh, stayed to argue the charges against Tali'Zorah. I've served with her, and she deserves better than what she's getting."
"Thanks, Kal." Garrus could hear the smile in Tali's voice.
"Just stating facts, ma'am."
It turned out that Reegar had been working with Raan to keep the admirals from blowing up the Alarei specifically to give Tali a chance to clear it. The hope was that she could find some evidence to clear her name aboard—or at least provide a very compelling argument to support her loyalty to the Migrant Fleet.
It was a manipulation of the situation in Tali's favor, but it wasn't a kind one, and Tali was more than angry to find out about it—and to learn that Danna and Raan had specifically avoided informing Tali about her father's situation in order to use her horror to sell her innocence to the crowd. Garrus saw Shepard tense at that one, too.
"Are the judges that set on finding her guilty?" she asked Raan when they talked to her.
"Anything involving the geth is a live wire, Shepard," Raan explained. "But there is still hope. Han'Gerrel greatly respects both you and Tali'Zorah for stopping Saren. Admiral Koris sees the whole thing as a war crime and wants to convict. I have no idea what Admiral Xen wants."
The politics over what had happened, it seemed, were less about whether or not Tali had committed treason—it was the general opinion that if Tali had endangered the fleet, she had done so unintentionally—and more about the stance the quarian admirals were going to take toward a war with the geth in the future.
Without meaning to, Garrus, Shepard, and Tali had found themselves neck deep in another one of the biggest political quagmires to hit the galaxy in the last millennium. How do we end up in these situations? You'd think trying to head off the Reapers would be enough trouble for anyone. Nothing's ever easy.
The quarians were contemplating charging behind the Veil again, but working with Sovereign, a small fraction of the geth had leveled half the Citadel. There was no way this issue would stop with the Migrant Fleet.
Shepard was alarmed to realize what they were actually dealing with here too. "I know the Migrant Fleet is formidable, but even you can't take on the geth," she told Raan.
Raan held out her hands, as if to convey her helplessness. "We grow tired of wandering the stars, Shepard. We want our world back. We have paid enough for our mistake. I am not giving you my opinion. I'm just telling you which way the wind is blowing."
But if the wind was blowing toward war with the geth, the resistance to it was going to be what would run over Tali. Everything Raan had to say only confirmed that their friend's only chance lay in plowing through geth on the Alarei that had brought down a whole squad of soldiers already.
Still, Garrus was distracted from interspecies politics and impossible missions when Shepard got around to asking Raan about her connection to Rael'Zorah and Tali. He hadn't even been sick the time he'd killed a quarian bioterrorist with a cough, but he hadn't known quarian kids spent their entire childhoods in bubbles. Apparently, Shala'Raan had been sick for a week just from attending Tali's birth—limited skin-on-skin contact, nothing any other species would consider harmful in the air, just from standing for a few hours in a clean room outside her suit.
Garrus looked around the Raaya at a hundred people who had to take strenuous precautions every time they touched someone. Casual sex meant a tech program to these people, and they risked their lives having children. Centuries of life aboard starships had turned every speck of dust into a deadly threat. Quarians are the only other known dextros in the galaxy, but they're so alien. Humans have more similar lifestyles.
Of course, some things were universal, parental difficulties being one of them. "I'm not hearing much about Rael's involvement in Tali's life," Shepard observed.
Raan hesitated, and her hands came up to twist together. "It's difficult to explain. I shouldn't—"
Tali reached out to grip Raan's shoulder. "It's okay, Aunt Shala," she assured her. "No secrets between shipmates. I think I told Shepard about my father—and Garrus is one of my best friends."
Raan looked at Garrus doubtfully. "If you say so. Rael was . . . committed to the quarian cause," she explained. "That didn't leave him a lot of time for his family. He wanted to give Tali and her mother the homeworld, or a strong fleet at least. That was how he showed his love."
Garrus regarded Tali. "Gotta respect a dad in uniform," he said.
Tali glanced at him. "You too, huh?" Tali shifted and looked at her feet. "I hope my father's all right."
"One way or another, we'll find out," he promised her.
Shepard moved on from Raan to question the other admirals. The more they heard, though, the more Shepard tensed up. As Daro'Xen, the other woman on the board, flatly dismissed any relevance Tali had to the trial at all but claimed the larger issue was too important to recuse herself, Shepard's fists clenched at her sides, and she slipped into momentary sharpness when Xen revealed her true ambition was to bring the geth back into quarian subjection. She was gentler with Han'Gerrel, an old friend of Tali's father and their strongest supporter on the board, who chortled that Shepard had Zal'Koris backing up worse than a krogan toilet, but when he, too, advocated going to war against the geth, Shepard was firm.
"I hope the quarian people find someplace to live, Admiral, but it sounds like you're playing with fire."
"We're too comfortable now, Shepard," Gerrel told her. "We've got the largest fleet in the galaxy, and we just ride around doing nothing."
Garrus considered the woman, Xen, had characterized Gerrel as an "aging warship," and though her other ideas were insane, she seemed right on the mark here. You don't start a war just because you can. Especially not this war.
"We might need that fleet to help fight the Reapers, Admiral," Tali argued.
"Then we need a world to shelter our noncombatants while we do it!" Gerrel retorted. Shepard sat back on her right leg and regarded the admiral. Too late, Garrus thought. These are the people steering the quarian race? A woman who thinks reenslaving the geth is how they win here, a man who wants to fight one major, galaxy-changing war to prepare for fighting another, and an entire board completely fine with using Tali's life as the battleground for this game of political capture-the-flag. And I thought I hated Citadel politics.
By the time they'd made their way over to Koris, Garrus was almost as worried about Shepard as he was about Tali. Even in her hardsuit, he could see that she was vibrating with rage. I'd be with her, but I'm hardly surprised. Koris greeted them with cold displeasure. "Judging by your ability to play to a crowd, human, I have done Tali a favor by stripping 'vas Neema' from her name," he said.
"Which wasn't your intention at all, I know," Shepard retorted, seeming almost relieved the gloves were off. "You'd have been happy if Tali didn't have anyone to speak for her. But thank you."
Tali stepped between the two of them before they had real trouble, bowing politely. "Commander Shepard, this is Admiral Zal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib. Do not ask about the name," she warned Shepard in an undertone.
Koris thawed ever so slightly. "I take no pleasure in this, Tali, truly, but you have gravely endangered and dishonored our fleet," he said gravely.
"That has yet to be proven," Shepard snapped.
"I respect Tali immensely," Koris told her. "Her actions against Saren are to be lauded. But like her father, she wants nothing but the destruction of the geth. The people we created. The people we wronged."
Shepard moved back a centimeter or two even as Tali flared up: "The geth drove us from our homeworld!"
Koris tilted his head. "Of course they did. We tried to kill them."
A quarian acknowledging the quarians were mostly responsible for the war with the geth was in a decided minority on the Migrant Fleet, Garrus knew, even though it was the opinion of most of the rest of the galaxy. Shepard almost seemed impressed. That doesn't change the fact that the bastard's using Tali as an example for his political agenda. He even admitted as much, outright saying that he believed he needed to 'send a message' to the warmongerers in the flotilla.
Tali seemed to take this better than Shepard did. "I understand," she said coolly. "I do not agree with you, but I understand."
"Tali. You going to be okay?" Garrus asked as they walked away from Koris. They had spoken to everyone they needed to, so Shepard led the way through the secondary exit EDI had indicated. It led to a darker hallway decorated differently than the entrance they had come through. Here, quarians had spray-painted graffiti art on the walls, including words in a dialect his visor wouldn't auto-translate. Must be older than the quarian dialects the model has on record. Sure enough, as he looked, a suggestion came up for a patch. Garrus considered it, then dismissed the suggestion. The angles and lines of the strange words were prettier than Palaven Standard.
"Let's just clear out the geth and find my father," Tali said. "If we can just find him, I'm sure he'll have an explanation."
"Shepard?" Garrus asked.
"Oh, I'm fine," Shepard said. Garrus glanced at her. She just about radiated anger. She didn't need expansive quarian gestures to project it through her hard suit, like an almost tangible wave of heat and tension rolling off of her. He could tell Tali felt it, too, but instead of edging away from it or fidgeting more, the quarian had stepped closer to Shepard and seemed to be less nervous than before.
All that anger's for her. Like Captain Redik when he found out about the soldiers hazing those recruits, or Mom, back in school when she found out Evind Kilhieaeris was giving Sol a hard time. Shepard's anger right now was the kind of anger you could trust, the kind of anger that meant someone somewhere gave a damn about what happened to you and was willing to go against whatever hell you were facing alone with a fire extinguisher just to make sure you were all right.
Garrus almost smiled. She's going to tear the geth apart. Then those admirals just better watch out. They rounded the corner into what looked like the hangar EDI had described. There were a few more quarians here—mechanics, possibly representatives come from other ships to keep track of the situation. And one man by an airlock standing at attention. Garrus nodded at him. "Think that's our guy?"
"Let's go find out," Shepard said.
