"You have been privy to all the evidence we've shown you, yet you still insist that Chimera is guiltless of any wrongdoing. The whole time we've been here we've been garnering the same result. It all seems to me like you're simply claiming ignorance on your part. Am I to believe, as a self-proclaimed informed businessman of your stature, that you have you not read the reactionary reports after your corporation—"
Sen. Michaelson, Australia
"—Knee-jerk responses from a spiteful media."
Erich Koenig, CEO – Chimera
"—Accurately sourced and cited write-ups that denote a clear pattern, Mr. Koenig. These media outlets from New York and Washington are respected institutions that have been around for far longer than you or Chimera. Long enough to earn a deserved reputation for fairness and unbiased truth. But back to the matter at hand. East Timor, Anhur, Elysium. Those are just a few of the colonies or areas that Chimera was posted to during its contract. Areas that have been witness to Chimera's penchant for levelling excessive force upon so-called 'enemies of the state.' One year alone produced more than two hundred bodies from your corporation – a rather unnecessary outcome, if you would ask me. And you're going to tell me that your contracted employees felt that it was necessary to kill rather than to capture in every single violent encounter? I would at least love to see that Chimera has a policy that encourages a more non-violent approach, wouldn't you agree?"
Sen. Michaelson, Australia
"Non-violent? Senator, when has being non-violent ever solved anything?"
Erich Koenig, CEO – Chimera
Rannoch
Roahn and her friends all trundled back to the house in a silent daze. It was almost midday and the sun was nearly at its zenith in the sky. Roahn felt the heat warp through her enviro-suit, warming her already sweltering body to unbearable levels. She blinked sweat out of her eyes, her visor tinting the sunlight, and stumbled over a stray rock, catching her balance so that she did not tumble down the hill from her clumsiness.
Despite the warm climate, Roahn still felt cold for some reason.
Her friends were petrified with fear and awe all at once as they marched single file through the mountains back towards the sea. Roahn could see Nee and Cevni subtly twitch their heads in Roahn's direction but looking past her, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man walking close behind the group, but they never completely committed to the action as they nervously shot their gazes back towards the front in trepidation. Roahn knew exactly why that was: they were terrified of her father.
Roahn could hear her father's feet heavily trampling the desert grass behind her, a mere meter away from where she was walking. Roahn tried to gulp, but all that did was give her a sharp pain in her throat. Her bones ached and her nerves felt like they were lit up with an electric charge. She felt a paralytic restraint upon her neck, leaving her unable to look back upon her father and to see the expression of utter disapproval on his face.
She just wished that he would say something. Anything was preferable to this silent treatment, really. But no, all he had said nary a word ever since they had all started to head back home.
Shepard still held the Predator pistol that he had yanked out of his daughter's hands just minutes prior. He walked with it clutched in his hand, with the safety on, of course. In the instant that he had shown up and surprised his daughter, along with all her friends, everyone had been so shocked and caught off guard that Shepard was unable to get a coherent explanation as to what they were doing with a gun out so far from the house, and neither could he get a reason for why his daughter was aiming the weapon at animals. With nothing more than poorly contrived excuses, Shepard had then curtly ordered the kids back the way they came and was bringing up the rear to make sure that none of them wandered off, stone-faced.
Were she alone, Roahn might have worked up the courage to say something to her dad to protest the situation, but seeing as her friends were within earshot, Roahn did not want to risk embarrassing herself right about now. But quite frankly, all of them were already embarrassed, her friends especially. After all, they had idolized her father (for whatever reason) for who knows how long and upon their first meeting, he had sternly berated them for their inappropriate handling of a gun. Roahn had heard of the expression "Never meet your heroes" before but she never figured that her friends would specifically have to learn that about her own dad.
A few minutes later, the quintet finally made it back out of the hills and near the plain that bordered the cliff wall to the sea. It was only a quarter of a kilometer back to Roahn's house – she could see it right over there – but Shepard was guiding everyone over to the speeders first, the small transports that Roahn's friends had used to arrive here in.
"Stop here," Shepard ordered and all of the girls timidly halted in their tracks. Shepard then pointed to the speeders with an insistent finger. "You girls come by yourselves?"
Nee, Cevni, and Zayhn gave meek nods.
"All right," Shepard said. "Now listen to me, girls. Go home. Go back to your parents and tell them what you were doing out here. If you don't, rest assured, when I inform them later on of what you were doing up in the canyons this morning, you are going to be thankful of letting them know before I do. Is that understood?"
The girls all gasped in horror and Roahn wilted. Bad enough they got caught but her father was only going to make her friends resent her by tattling on them to their parents! Bitter, Roahn lowered her head shamefully.
Roahn's friends began to protest but Shepard merely held up a hand, not at all wanting to hear any more halfhearted excuses. "I'm final on this, girls. I'm not the one you need to explain yourselves to. That's not my responsibility. What is my responsibility is making sure that your parents are fully aware that you were shooting a gun without any supervision. They will deal with you as they see fit."
Cevni began to tremble and Roahn sighed. Cevni's home life was even more troubled than Roahn's, to the point where Cevni was beaten by her parents if she stepped out of line. It was an open secret amongst the group, one that each of Cevni's friends knew but never brought up. Shepard had no way of knowing that, though. Guess Cevni would be having a rough night tonight.
Damn it, dad.
Finished, Shepard then turned to go back to the house, expecting Roahn to be right behind him. However, Nee took a tiny step forward, her hand partially stretched out.
"M-Mr. Shepard?" she spoke through a wavering voice. "Can… can I have my dad's gun back?"
Shepard just slowly turned around, his face contorted in a baffled expression. He kept completely silent and continued to hold the gun in front of him, clutching it close to his chest. Without responding to the girl, Shepard just turned back and continued to head over to the house, not even sparing Nee a singular grunt.
Roahn helplessly looked at her friends and gave a useless shrug before her leaden legs directed her back to the house. She knew that she was going to face consequences of her own very soon, so she was not entirely all that sympathetic to the plight of her friends. She would be worse for wear by the day's end, she conceded, so she could only worry about her own hide right now.
Here it comes.
Her father was waiting for her in the foyer as she entered. "A pistol," he said suddenly as the door closed behind her, letting the suction of cold air wash over her. Shepard held out his hand where the gun rested. "Not even a day has passed since you've come home and now I find you with a pistol? I thought I had made myself clear year after year. How many times have I told you to stay away from guns? And not only that, I happen to catch you about to shoot a defenseless marmot. Christ, Roahn. Have you not been understanding me all this time?"
"Yes…" Roahn dully responded, having to chew the inside of her cheeks to prevent her from lashing out.
"Really?" Shepard replied in mock surprise. "That's strange, because if you really did understand me, you would not have taken that gun from your friends out there. Have I been speaking a different language all this time? Because if I haven't…"
Roahn hated this game Shepard was playing. This sardonic and knowingly hostile line of questioning was only serving to enrage her to her boiling point right off the bat. If this was a thing that all fathers did, then Roahn vowed never to treat her own children in such a manner.
"So what? I didn't shoot the stupid thing!" Roahn hotly protested, unable to stop herself from blurting out in her defense.
That just made Shepard's bearded face fall. "Don't even go there, young lady," he sighed as he tiredly rubbed at his eyes. "Don't even try to get out of this. You know exactly what you did wrong."
"But I didn't even get to fire the gun!" Roahn continued to seethe, not yet realizing that she was simply continuing to dig her own grave. "Why am I being punished for just touching a gun?!"
Roahn's precarious predicament was evidenced by the cold and sudden anger that furrowed upon Shepard's brow. "That is not the point, Roahn. God damn it, that is not the point at all!" Furiously, Shepard began to rack the slide of the gun, causing all of the thermal clips to sail out of the gun and onto the black tile floor with a loud series of clatters, spilling in all directions. "What I saw back there was you not playing around with your intent. When I saw you, it looked like you were not only willing to fire this thing, but you were willing to kill an animal. Whatever did that animal do to you, Roahn? A simple marmot, minding its own business… and you, my own daughter, would've shot it like it meant nothing to you."
Shepard's words immediately weighed on Roahn's mind and, despite herself, she felt so terribly guilty. Roahn trembled, feeling several inches smaller. She was glad she had a visor covering her face, because her eyes were already beginning to well with tears of shame. But she knew that her father had a sixth sense for pinpointing Roahn's exact emotion, no matter what, and she turned her head away in embarrassment in an attempt to hide her fierce feelings.
She did not want to give her father the satisfaction of winning.
"I… I don't even know what to say, Roahn," Shepard sighed. "I thought you were mature enough to understand exactly why I don't want you using guns at all in this household! But I guess that's still to come. You're just too young to respect the power these things hold. This—," Shepard shook his hand, still holding onto the gun tightly, "—is no toy. It is a weapon designed to kill people! You hear me? Even worse, this is not some pistol that you use for hunting. This model was meant to put down people like you and me, Roahn. Living people. Sentient beings. It was made to make people die. And you were going to use it on a marmot. I… I have no words, Roahn."
Through her tears, Roahn angrily looked at her father, wishing that there was no barrier in the way to wipe her tears away. "I wasn't going to shoot the thing, dad! I… I… I didn't think it was right. I was going to miss on purpose. My friends… they were goading me…"
"And how would I have known that you weren't going to shoot it? When I arrived, all I saw was you pointing the thing at the poor critter. It didn't look like you were having second thoughts at all."
"That's because I was trying to aim away from the—," Roahn halted and bit her lip, now realizing that she was fully incapable of changing her father's mood on the matter.
Shepard just shook his head as he slightly knelt down. "But if your friends were trying to make you hurry up and blow that marmot to bits, then you might want to consider if your friends truly have your best interests at heart. Real friends don't pressure you to kill, Roahn. That's not something someone should make on your behalf. Killing and murder – these are not things you should have to concern yourself about, honey."
"Oh right, and you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Roahn spat before she could stop herself.
Shepard's jaw clenched shut and a tiny spasm of muscle near the corner of his mouth began to twitch. His teeth scraped over each other torturously and the look in his steel-blue eyes turned to ice.
"I'm disappointed that you would say something like that," he simply said, which much have took such restraint for him not to explode in a fury. "It's just… you don't understand. What you think you know, you're not at all close to the truth. What you're doing now, it's not going to help you whatsoever. I told you time and again that there will be no guns in this house. I'm not going to stand for this, Roahn, and you will face consequences for your actions."
Roahn just stared at her father blankly. "You're… so… unbelievable!" she gaped.
Shepard now violently jolted. "Excuse me?"
"Why am I getting punished for this?! This is garbage! I'm one of the few people my age who has never even held a gun before – they're used everywhere! Everyone on this planet has a gun, dad! Why do we get to be the outsiders here?!"
"So if everyone on the planet were to jump off a cliff, you would join them?"
Roahn spluttered in a fury. "I… n-no… well… no, but… but that's not the point!"
"Isn't it? You're saying because that everyone you know has a weapon in their house should somehow mean that we should have one too. Young lady, that is nothing but a fallacy. There is no reason for us to have weapons in this home, simple as that."
Roahn had no idea what a fallacy was, but she was getting the gist of it even as she stormed over to the kitchen, fully fed up with trying to argue with her father, trying to avoid him altogether.
Shepard just followed her through the house at a distance, his mouth lined in a craggy frown. "Running away will not solve your problem, Roahn."
"What problem?!" Roahn whirled around as she simultaneously stamped her foot. "Of you being a hypocrite?!"
"Roahn, I've been putting up with your childish behavior so far, but now you're trying my patience."
Whatever, Roahn thought. I'm dead anyway, right?
"Dad, you won't let me touch any weapon at all, let alone look at one, even though you've been using them all your life. How many guns did you use in the war? Who did you use those guns on, dad? All I did was hold some stupid pistol. How can you tell me that it is not all right for me to try out a pistol while you were some… some… some big war hero? What did I do wrong compared to you?!"
Shepard's mouth opened but he abruptly closed it, like he was about to say something but at the last moment decided against it.
"There are things that… that you wouldn't understand," Shepard said mournfully as he briefly dipped his gaze to the floor. "Things that you're not old enough to hear. But it doesn't matter anyway. You've already proven to me that you're nowhere near mature enough to handle the responsibility of even handling a firearm. How could I ever think that you should know everything about who I am? You're just not ready, Roahn."
"Only because you won't give me a chance," Roahn glowered as she too looked away. "Mom would've understood me better, at least."
Only then did Roahn realize that she had gone too far. As she looked up, she suddenly became fearful all over again as Shepard's face was now hard as diamond, his eyes brimming with anger from the very insinuation that her mother would have backed Roahn in this argument against her husband. Roahn nearly blurted out that she wanted to take the comment back, but the words died in her throat as soon as she saw her father's hand tremble as it hung limply at his side.
Shepard then raised his arm, pointing toward the hallway. "Your room, Roahn," he breathed, emphasizing each syllable. "Right. Now."
Roahn did not need to be told twice. Flushed with embarrassment, she quickly fled the room, heart pounding in her chest. Her breath felt hot in her helmet and she began to shake as she left her father's presence, resigned to her punishment.
Watching his daughter leave, Shepard was aware that he was beginning to breathe a little more raggedly and he began to clutch at his chest. "That kid…" he muttered as he sagged against the kitchen counter. "Tali, what am I going to do with her?"
Of course he wasn't expecting a response but Shepard quickly lost interest with the conversation he was having with himself, for he noted that cold sweat was springing up on the back of his neck and spots were now appearing in the corners of his vision. He gave a pathetic wheeze, like his lungs were not taking in as much oxygen as they should. He felt dizzy and sick. Something definitely was not right. As Shepard grasped at the collar of his shirt, he quickly deduced that he was having one of his periodic attacks and he stumbled over to the counter to where he kept his injections.
His body was just not as good as it used to be anymore.
Unlike his last dosage, this administration was not as careful this time around. Finding the injector he sought in the drawer, Shepard clumsily lifted his shirt and pressed the plastic end against an area of pinched skin, barely waiting a second before depressing the bright yellow button. There was a tiny sting and the medicine was soon pushed into his body. Sighing, Shepard blithely discarded the spent injector as he slowly slid down to the ground, his throat now feeling parched.
"I can't be a monster to her…" he said out loud, for the sake of his own sanity. "I'd lose Roahn forever."
"Shepard?" a voice in his head piped up.
"Oh no…" Shepard groaned as he shut his eyes, trying to force his mind from wandering away from his own control. "Not now."
"Is that—you're alive?"
Elsewhere, Shepard blinked.
It had been a weird 24 hours of Shepard's life, or at least his second chance at life. From waking up from a near-death coma in a Cerberus facility in space to hoofing it in the dead of night upon a far-away human colony that had been seemingly abandoned, some place on a godforsaken moon called Freedom's Progress, Shepard was still feeling a little disoriented, like he was swimming in mud, several steps behind everyone else. In less than the span of a day, things had only been getting weirder and weirder for Shepard since he got a new lease on life—which had subjected him to one rude surprise after another—until now… when at last, a familiar voice from the past served to jolt him back to memories that rose anew, brought forth from the soothing associations he placed this sound with.
The inherent familiarity immediately began to breed a new kind of life into him as he saw this person standing across from him.
Tali'Zorah. His crewmate. His friend. Here on Freedom's Progress? Must have been one of the biggest coincidences to occur in the history of the galaxy if this really was happenstance. Blind luck or a manufactured circumstance? Whichever it was, Shepard did not really care all that much, as it turned out.
Shepard did not think that this was a mirage or that he was losing it. The suited individual across from him looked like Tali and sounded like Tali. Was it really so hard to believe that it was Tali? For the first time since he had been revived, Shepard felt a grin start to break out across his face, feeling inexplicably happy at the sight of the quarian.
Happy. Huh. All of Cerberus' fancy tech and care into bringing him back and yet they couldn't even give him a reason to live.
But seeing Tali, on the other hand…
Tali, understandably, was wavering in front of him, apprehensive at the unexpected return of her old commander. Fortunately, Shepard still remembered many details of the conversations he had shared with her in private, particularly regarding Tali's Pilgrimage gift. Recalling that memory was easy and he recited every singular detail to her without fumbling a word, proving that it was him beyond a doubt.
From the look of her eyes, it appeared that Tali had stumbled headlong into a mental brick wall. Confusion seeped through her visor, as did yearning. Both Shepard's and Tali's subordinates had silently cleared the room while they had been talking, a thoughtful gesture to give the old friends some peace and quiet.
But Tali did not stay silent for long. Or still. That much was apparent when she leaped over to Shepard and encased him in a grateful and jubilant bear hug.
"You are alive!" Tali yelped gleefully as she nuzzled Shepard with the side of her helmet, nearly crushing the human's ribs from her excited strength.
Shepard did not respond right away as he was too shocked at Tali nearly bowling him over to say anything. But being privy to Tali's joy felt like he had been given something that had been missing from him. Some sensation that had been locked away for god knows how long.
Whatever it was, it felt good.
He gave a little laugh, the effort itself feeling like it tacked on more years to his life. Happiness… yes. Already he was feeling like a new man.
"Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are," Shepard responded as he returned the hug before Tali parted from him, her eyes latched onto his in wonder. "But I'm definitely here. With you right now. Completely real, Tali."
"This is…" Tali's hands wove a frantic pattern in the air as she tried to decipher what was going on, "…I don't understand. How? How are you here? The Normandy… the explosion… I saw you die, Shepard. I saw… I saw you die."
Shepard sagely nodded as he took one of Tali's hands to calm her. "I was dead. Or I thought I was. I can't really explain how but… I was brought back. For what end, I'm still not completely sure. Hell, I… I only woke up not even twenty hours ago, Tali. You're the first familiar face I've seen since… since…"
Fire and destruction flashed in Shepard's eyes. Reminiscence of a broken ship, his ship, hurtling toward a planet as explosive gases and white-hot beams encased it in a fiery conflagration. Tali sensed this change and squeezed Shepard's hand hard to snap him out of it.
"It really is you, isn't it?"
Shepard lifted his head and gave a solemn look in affirmation.
Tali nodded. "I know who you are. You're Shepard, through and through. They can't give you the memories that such a good man—you—could have known. It really is you, Shepard."
Something stirred inside of Shepard, some sort of inclination to just blurt out an uncontrollable feeling that was only now close to bursting in his brain. This feeling, this longing to be near to Tali, it felt like it had always been inside him. What could this portend? He had never felt this way for Tali before or for… anyone, really. But just seeing her here, watching her expression soften as her trust returned, there was a tangible gratitude that Shepard now held in his chest—a bright mote of light that warmed him from within.
"Shepard?" Tali tilted her head as she tiptoed closer, not understand. "Are you all right?"
"I'm…" Shepard panted as he kept a tight and nervous grip on Tali's hand, which he had still been holding, but he cracked a weary smile as he touched her shoulder, "…I'm going to be much better after today, I guarantee."
Tali similarly beamed.
"I'm so glad that you—"
Cold water splashed against Shepard's face as he suddenly lowered his head into the sink, where the faucet was running on full tap, dissolving the memory in a soggy burst. Shepard made a loud gasp, sending droplets of water spewing over the counter, as his face was now waterlogged and his beard became beaded with dampness. Heavily leaning next to the faucet, Shepard continued to breathe long and heavy, using his hand to wash his face, to dispel this stifling heat that had been set upon him. His gut throbbed and his head felt like it was going to split open, but he was back in the here and now, subject to its tangible nature.
Through bleary eyes, Shepard tried to look out the window, where the outside sun was streaming in, blinding him to Rannoch's splendor.
"You're losing it, Shepard," he spoke to himself as he pressed a felt towel against his face, groaning into it. "You can't live in your memories forever."
Shepard was up and running near his normal self again an hour later, although he was still having to deal with the remnants of a headache—a light pulsation, nothing serious. He was now in his office, nursing a beer, slightly reclining in his plush chair as the muted light from the sun over the ocean filtered in from the darkened windows, causing dim hues to wash over the room.
The holographic image of the man projected sitting across from Shepard, a turian decked out in a casual attire, was also enjoying a drink of his own as he chatted with Shepard. The familiar blue tinge from the hologram projector dampened the array of color that Shepard was able to perceive upon the turian, but if the colors had been accurate, the turian's blue face paint would have been the first thing that was evident when staring upon his friend.
Garrus Vakarian, in the hologram, shrugged and took a swig from his odd-shaped glass, which was filled with some sort of turian liquor. Turians did not have any skin on the sides of their jaws to keep liquids from spilling out of the sides of their mouths, so their glasses had spouts on them so that they could take in their drinks further back.
"What did you expect?" Garrus' scratchy voice emitted across the other end. "You had to know that this day would come sooner or later. Actually, I'm kind of surprised that she took this long to do it."
"She was trying to use a weapon without me knowing about it, Garrus," Shepard sighed as he leaned in closer. "I would have thought that Roahn would have come to me first, asking for the umpteenth time if she could handle a gun. But no, she went off and tried to do so under my nose."
"Kids, right? It's only natural for them to be disobedient."
A slight smile began to catch on Shepard's face. "Speaking from experience, Vakarian? Last I checked, you didn't have any kids. Unless you and Kasumi recently made some changes that I wasn't privy to?"
The turian on the other end choked on his drink and spent a few seconds simultaneously spluttering and chuckling. "Nah, Kasumi's still not all that interested. But she does tell me stories from time to time about how human households differ from turian ones. Just to let me know how you humans have it so easy when you were young. From what she says, it's only natural for kids to be in rebellious phases as they get older." Garrus leaned back in his own chair. "Didn't apply to me much. I never got into that much trouble as a kid."
"Only because you're a saint."
"I have gotten better at picking up sarcasm, you know."
Garrus' image stuttered and Shepard frowned as he waited for the hologram to realign itself. Even though the house had a state of the art communication suite all set up, transmitting signals halfway across the galaxy from the Citadel, where Garrus was, over to Rannoch pretty much guaranteed that occasional signal losses would occur. Technology still was not all that reliable over in the middle of nowhere, sadly.
Now Shepard laughed as he took a sip of his beer. "She was right about one thing, though."
"Who?"
"Roahn. She told me that Tali would've understood her better for disobeying our—my—wishes. Which… is completely true. But it was the way that she said it that got to me. Just very… accusatory. Almost like she hated me in that moment."
"Yikes. How'd you react?"
Shepard fidgeted in his chair and took a sideways glance out at the ocean. "Probably not very well. Sent her off to her room and… well, that was the end of that talk."
Garrus' eyes noticeably shifted back and forth as he hunched over a little in his chair. He took a few breaths and cupped his drink absentmindedly before responding. "You think that was the best thing to do?"
"I don't know," Shepard admitted. "Maybe… maybe not. What I do know is that Tali definitely would have handled it better than me. She's always had this… connection with Roahn that I never got. It's like she could intrinsically understand our daughter's feelings, her thoughts. She could calm her with words that I could never conjure, without fail."
As he listened, the subtle tics in Garrus' facial expression began to slightly droop more and more. He had acted as Shepard's right hand man for years, been with him since the very beginning when Shepard had been inducted into the ranks of the Spectres, and had seen the man tackle every obstacle that had the misfortune to cross his path. And yet, being a parent was still this one final challenge, the one difficulty in Shepard's life, that was proving to be a sore point. A frustrated Shepard was one thing, but a helpless one? Now that was nothing short of strange.
"You're worried that you can't handle her," Garrus stated as he set his glass to the side, on top of an unseen desk, allowing him to fold his hands together.
"I've never been able to handle her. Not since she lost her mother. That's only one of the reasons why I sent her to the academy. To be among people her own age, get an education from someone a whole lot more qualified than me, and… and so that I could not struggle to control her."
Now Garrus coughed uncomfortably. "I know you probably don't want me giving you parental advice, Shepard—"
"Garrus, I'd take advice from Jack right now because I am nearing desperation."
The turian shuddered at that. Jack had been another comrade he and Shepard had recruited during the war. Jack was a powerful biotic and a touch on the chaotic side who had a penchant for a radical sense of style. The tattooed human was known for being rather acerbic with her attitude, not to mention possessing a mouth that would make a sailor blush. Yet, despite all that, she was very successful in her current job working as a teacher at a school for biotic kids. Her students loved her.
But Shepard still thought that Jack was a bit too blunt to deal with someone like Roahn. That was just his personal bias.
"Perish the thought. But hear me out for a second."
"I'm all ears."
"What if…" Garrus now raised his hands spread apart, like he was clutching an invisible ball between them, "…you actually humored her instead of isolating yourself from her? You let Roahn in, I mean?"
Shepard blinked. "Come again?"
"I'm serious. Why not teach Roahn to shoot?"
"Garrus…" Shepard sighed as he turned in his chair in exasperation. "Come on. Anything but that. I made a promise, one that I agreed with wholeheartedly, that I would not influence my daughter into going down a path like mine. It's too dangerous."
Garrus scratched at a mandible. "What, and practically being on your own in the middle of a lightly populated planet is something that you'd consider is safe? Personally, I can't imagine a better person to be an instructor for shooting. It's not that uncommon of a hobby, you know. For crying out loud, shooting's a competitive sport, anyway! It's like the one sport in which all the races can compete in without any handicaps. You should see it on the Citadel, Shepard—the athletes in the competitive teams get treated like the top celebrities whenever they have their traditional meet-and-greets."
"Oh, athletes! Very fine role models for my daughter, I'm sure! What better kind of people to idolize than those who are surrounded by booze, sex, and drugs for every waking hour? That's just the sort of exposure I want Roahn to be subjected to."
"Fine!" Garrus rolled his eyes in response to Shepard's sarcasm. "But shouldn't it be the smart thing to have a weapon on you out there? I mean, you're pretty much in the wilderness. I'm no expert on Rannoch fauna, but if an animal were to come by the house, I'd want something to defend myself with. Wouldn't it also be a good idea to teach Roahn how to use it as well?"
"There are no dangerous predators out here on Rannoch, Garrus."
Garrus then threw up his hands in exasperation. "Regardless, everyone has a weapon of some sort on Rannoch. It's 2198—everyone and their mother has a gun, plain and simple, regardless of what planet they're on. If you're not going to teach her to shoot, she is going to learn how from someone sooner or later. And wouldn't you want the person teaching her to at least do it the right way? If you want something done properly…?"
Shepard ran a hand through his beard tiredly. "You know, that was one of the exact excuses Roahn gave me, believe it or not."
"Then she's a smarter girl than I figured. Look, Shepard, speaking as a former 'saint' of a child, you and I both should know that if Roahn has this uncontrollable urge to follow her calling, in this case, to be able to use a gun, then it's a foregone conclusion that what you're trying to prevent is going to happen anyway. You might as well expose her to this, to make the unknown familiar. Trust me, if you normalize handling a weapon in the correct manner, Roahn will be less incentivized to disobey you."
Shepard looked skeptical. "You really think that'll work?"
A wide-eyed Garrus nodded, his image fuzzing slightly from the vigorous motions his head made. "I know that you don't want to tell Roahn everything about your life. Not yet, at least. But this should be a good step in the right direction for when you eventually take that plunge. I'm willing to bet everything that I own that she's already gotten the broad strokes of who you are as a person already. In today's interconnected environment, anyone with extranet access can know just about anything. I mean… you're… Commander Shepard. No one else has to say anything else because you can't possibly tack on any more importance to that. You're already a hero to your daughter, even if she might not think that right now. But shouldn't she understand why?"
Shepard hid his mouth with a hand, silently pondering over the words his friend was saying. He caught the interesting role-reversal that was happening to occur between them. Shepard had been a seasoned soldier when he had first met Garrus, who was a wide-eyed and somewhat naïve cop with a strong sense of justice, but was about as sensitive as a bull in a china shop when it came down to the politics of the judicial process. Shepard had consistently plied Garrus with helpful advice when it was necessary, acting as a mentor to the turian in a few cases, sometimes causing his friend to back down from stances that Garrus had declared imperviable to any changes. Shepard knew that Garrus could always be counted on to see logic and reason when it counted.
Only fair that he returned the favor. For his friend.
"I guess that makes sense," Shepard replied, but both of them already knew that an idea had taken hold in Shepard's mind. And such an idea, when it takes root, is impossible to remove.
Garrus just gave a satisfied laugh and then drained the rest of his drink after plucking it back up from the table where he had previously set it. "You'll have to let me know how it goes in our next bi-weekly chat. I'd come visit, but you know, you said that it wouldn't be good to have me around."
Shepard did not miss the obvious note of snark embedded in Garrus' words and he bit his lip anxiously.
"Garrus…" Shepard then held his head in his hands. "I shouldn't have to explain this to you again."
"You don't need to! I get why you've imposed this exile on yourself because, and this is all supposition on your end, you think that the Alliance would go to the trouble of tracking your friends to get your firm location. All because you were in contempt of some court? I just… spirits, Shepard." Garrus then appeared to look at something outside of Shepard's sight. "Do you realize that it has almost been ten years since we last saw each other in person? These calls, they don't count. They don't even come close. I mean, I haven't even seen your daughter. I bet she doesn't even know you and I talk so often. You know, that's something that I'd like to do before I kick the proverbial bucket."
"I know, I know. I want her to meet you too, you know that. I would love nothing more than for her to meet all of my friends, to show her off and to let everyone know that I'm hanging in there."
Garrus sensed hesitation. "…But?"
Shepard sighed. "But… can you at least assure me, one hundred percent, that if you were to come here, we would be safe? If you made it to Rannoch, you can swear that the Alliance will not find out about it?"
"Safe? Shepard, I can't promise you that anywhere. You know that."
Shepard gave a far-away look. "I do, but that's why I can't take the risk. I told you before. I won't allow Roahn to be in any danger. She needs me, Garrus. Even if she doesn't realize it. I don't want to imagine my daughter's future if I'm not in it. I owe it to her to be there as a father. I owe it to me. I owe it—"
"—to Tali?" Garrus finished, his mandibles twitching once in bemusement.
Shepard flushed, then gave a firm swallow. "Yes. To her. I'm sorry, Garrus, but that's why you can't see her, no matter how much I would love for it to happen. If things back on Earth cool off, then we will be able to share a drink in person but until then, this is what we have to deal with."
Garrus gave Shepard a look of disgust at that, punctuated by a dissatisfied shake of his head. Shepard inwardly wilted at that and he wondered if all he was doing was making things worse by pushing his friends away.
"Life really was simpler when we had a war over our heads, right?" Garrus just asked.
Shepard just looked out the window.
"We knew who we were fighting back then," Shepard said. "But now, I'm not sure I even know who our enemy is now."
In her room, Roahn lay on her bed, twiddling her thumbs, spacing out as she stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the blue shading in the corners of her vision that her visor was responsible for creating. She was not doing anything in particular right about now, but merely trying to find something to concentrate on in her head that did not cause her blood pressure to unnecessarily spike.
She knew that she should not have blown up like she did at her father. Roahn figured that there were going to be more severe consequences down the line for that. Barely even a day since she had returned home and already she had gotten herself embroiled into a raging argument with him. That had to be some kind of record.
"Stupid…" Roahn muttered as she gently lifted her head up to drop back down on her pillow, not entirely certain whom she was referring to in the moment. "Stupid. Stupid."
Stupid her for forgetting herself. Stupid dad for being so stubborn. This whole thing was just one stupid moment after another and Roahn was helpless to stop the same mistakes from tumbling down the hill to add to the pile.
Perhaps, Roahn figured, she should have known better. Perhaps her judgment had needed to be a lot better this time around. Woe on her for breaking the rules so close to her dad's dominion. After all, her father had been telling her for years on end about the dangers of firearms – maybe his reaction to her disobedience was something entirely justified.
Justified, maybe. But most likely excessive.
Roahn continued to sulk for a bit, frustrated that her dad was unable to understand her position. But Roahn could not figure out how to properly explain her stance to him. How could she possibly convince her father, the supposed 'hero,' that she just wanted a regular childhood like everyone else? That she just wanted her dad to be, for lack of a better word, normal?
But maybe normality had been forever locked away from her years ago. Maybe she had never had a choice.
Finding only tension in reality, she daydreamed of moments outside of the present to escape into.
The knock at the door heralded an unexpected surprise. Roahn sat up on the bed eagerly, confused as to who was entering.
The door cracked open and a purple visor adorned with a sehni of the same color peeked in, eyes the color of mercury shining behind the smoky barrier.
"May I come in?" Tali politely asked.
Roahn nervously appraised the floor before meeting her mother's eyes, giving a singular nod.
Tali walked in and shut the door behind her before making her way over to the bed, where Roahn was sitting cross-legged, a little red action figure toppled over beside her on the plush mattress. Tali picked up the action figure, a depiction of the krogan warrior Urdnot Wrex, and studied it for a few seconds in amusement before placing it on the desk next to the bed.
"Don't be fooled," Tali smirked to her daughter as she gestured to the action figure. "He's a lot taller in person than he might seem here."
"He looks mean," Roahn said, her eyes also similarly locked on the krogan figure. "But… cool, too. Mean and cool."
Tali laughed politely. "He might not have the prettiest face, but Wrex… well, Wrex can be one of the warmest and most hospitable people you could ever know. Scars and all. He looks tough, but he's quite soft underneath." Tali then winked at Roahn. "You just have to get on his good side, though."
"Will I ever meet him?" Roahn asked eagerly.
Tali sighed and then sat on the edge of her bed, the long tail of her sehni flowing behind her back, giving her a very spirit-like quality. "I certainly hope so, my little Ro. I know that he would love to meet you."
Roahn fell quiet all of a sudden. Tali tilted her head in concern. "What's wrong, Ro?"
"You gave an answer to that question," Roahn replied distantly. "Dad didn't."
"Asked him what?"
"If I was ever going to meet Wrex."
Tali also quieted as she gave a sage nod, now understanding. Roahn was an inquisitive child, and like all inquisitive children, sought out their parents to provide answers to the questions that they possessed. The only problem for Roahn was that one of her parents did not want to answer the questions at all.
"When I asked dad that, he… he didn't seem to want to answer me. He just got all quiet again. He always just goes quiet. And like at dinner today, when he got mad at me for asking him about his job. I… I…" Roahn choked back a sudden sob as she whirled to her mother. "I wasn't trying to make him angry, mom! I only wanted to know what h-he did during th-the war and stuff! I'm… I'm sorry, mom. I don't want him to be mad at me."
Tali looked lost for a moment and her gaze flashed away for a split second before returning to meet Roahn's eyes.
"My little Ro, your father's not mad at you. He's not angry at you at all."
"But… but… but he looked so… so furious when all I did was ask him if he saw anything bad while he was a soldier."
"Sweetheart, please understand. Your father… is a very complicated man. He could never be mad at you for just being a normal six-year old, curious at the galaxy. The truth is simply a little more complicated."
Roahn's eyes shone, silently pleading for more. "I don't understand. What's so complicated about it?"
"I'm not sure if I could help you understand. Not right now, at least. But your father was fighting in the war for so long that… that it changed him. Made him very aversive to violence in any form. He dislikes it so much that it pains him to talk about what he did in the past and to think of the people that he lost."
"It hurts him?" Roahn nearly gasped. She had never considered this before.
"In a way," Tali dimly nodded. "Your father, as important as he was to the war, would rather forget it ever happened because he doesn't want that to define him as a person. Also, and you will realize this someday, but the war gave your father a lot of bad memories. I can't even talk about it with him, either. Roahn, what your father and I did before we married, we gave up that part of our lives so that we could create a new one. Start a family. Live in peace. You see now? We deliberately abandoned all that for you, because we wanted you to have the kind of life that we were never afforded."
Roahn looked lost and she shook her head in confusion. "I'm not sure that I get it, mom. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Tali assuaged her daughter as she wrapped her arms around the girl and hugged her tightly. She placed her hands on Roahn's back and patted her there, giving her daughter relief from her touch. "There will be a time when it'll all become clear to you. Maybe then you'll understand why we did what we did. I hope that you'll forgive us then."
"Forgive you?" Roahn lifted her head through Tali's embrace, still not fully comprehending. "What… what is there to forgive?"
Behind her visor, Tali gave a sad, unseen smile.
"More than you could realize," she said before hugging her daughter again.
Another blink of her eyes and Roahn found herself alone on the bed again, still staring up at the ceiling, having never changed her posture all this time. Joints partially stiffened from not moving, Roahn groaned as she sat back up, noting that a whole hour had already passed by. That, and the position of the sun in the sky indicated that she had just burned a lot of the day in her room.
Then again, she was grounded so it was not like she had anywhere to go right about now.
"Mom…" Roahn whispered as she pressed a hand over her heart, fighting to control a biting pain that was building up in her chest.
The white noise of silence eventually drowned out her longing thoughts, allowing Roahn to finally breathe easier.
A bit more relaxed now, Roahn got up from her bed to sit over at her desk, booting up the console screen as she flexed her fingers to stretch them out. Roahn engaged the social networking site that she used the most, to find out if any of her friends were currently online. A quick scan and confirmation of their darkened profile outlines told her that… no, they were not online right now. Either they were still headed to their homes or they had been punished by their respective parents to the point where their extranet privileges had been rescinded.
Damn it. No one to talk to. No one around to hear her vent.
Already bored out of her mind, Roahn resigned herself to mindlessly browsing through a myriad of sites, mostly sticking to discussion blogs and other social hangout places. There was no pattern to the list of topics she was looking up – she was just doing it to kill a bunch of time.
One unfortunate aspect about the extranet (at least for her) was that Roahn was unable to prevent herself from coming across any articles or passages related to the Reaper War at large. It made sense, considering that an annihilation-level event was on the doorstep to the entire galaxy and only the sheerest of luck prevented ultimate disaster from transpiring. People were still feeling the effects to this day and would likely still feel the aftershocks for decades to come. The biggest war that had ever transpired in the entire galaxy – it felt like Roahn had been present for the entire thing, considering how much she knew about it, despite the fact that she had been born a few years after it had ended.
But Roahn always soured when the actual events of the war inevitably linked back to her father in the end. Her father. It was always about her father. Hero of the Citadel. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Galaxy. So many titles to choose from.
Monikers from another life.
If her father was really a hero, why did he not seem like one?
Was the galaxy pulling the largest practical joke on her? Where had the brave man known as Commander Shepard gone? All she saw was just a regular man, her father. Imagining him in his so-called glory days just did not compute for Roahn. She just could not see it.
Roahn was not blind, though. She had seen the proof for herself. Thousands upon thousands of videos and pictures, all showing her father as a warrior in battle. Hefting a rifle on the streets of Thessia. Conferring with generals upon a moon of Palaven. Standing next to a Reaper corpse on Rannoch. Recovering in a hospital bed on Earth. So much proof – surely this all could not possibly be faked?
All the evidence was there for her to peruse. No doubt about it; her father was the most legendary warrior to have ever lived.
What had happened to the man?
Her eyes now drawn to an object on her desk, Roahn reached over and plucked the holographic picture frame from where it sat near the edge. The picture had been in her possession for as long as Roahn could remember. It had been taken a long time ago, when she was still very little. The picture showed a whole other side to the family she had now – a window into the past that hinted at what should have been a brighter future.
In the picture, her mother and father were sitting next to each other, close enough that their hips were touching. Roahn, at five years old, was standing up on a bench behind the two, clad in a very small enviro-suit, leaning forward and wrapping her arms gently around Shepard's neck as she posed for the camera that took the photo. Shepard's hand was intertwined with Tali's closest hand – three fingers tightly gripping five. Tali was gently leaning her head onto Shepard's shoulder, the look in her eyes through her visor unmistakably denoting a smile laced heavily with love. Shepard too was grinning, but his eyes were closed like he was just taking in the moment to the fullest, enjoying himself in the presence of his wife and daughter. His hair had been shorter then. Darker, too. His beard was also cropped a whole lot closer to his face as well.
Everyone had been happy then.
How things had changed.
Maybe if her mother had not gotten sick, Roahn's family would be a little less… broken. There was not a single day where Roahn did not miss Tali. Keelah, she was lonely. In the first few months after Tali had passed away, Roahn could not stop crying. She had loved her mother so much… yet she had gone and there was nothing Roahn could have done to stop it.
As for Shepard… he had mourned in his own way… but what Roahn never forgot is that Shepard never stepped up to be the father he should have been, right at the moment when she needed him the most. He had selfishly locked himself away in that time, but he had never yet realized that he had locked out the only family that was left in the process.
Roahn would never forgive him for that.
Yet that picture… Roahn mused to herself as she focused back onto her mother and father in the frame. What a lovely picture this was.
All she could do in the next hour was stare at it uselessly, imagining all the 'what ifs' had things turned out all right in the end.
What if, indeed.
What if?
A/N: Progress on Cenotaph is proceeding at just the sort of pace that I want right now, which is good news for everyone because that means there's not going to be any year-long gaps in between chapters. And in case you're worried that I might abandon this story at any point, I have more good news because I've made sure to outline Cenotaph's plot from beginning to end, so any gaps due to story concerns is pretty much not an outcome at this point.
In any case, I'm interested to see what you guys thought of this latest chapter. Criticism of all forms is welcome (except flaming - no one likes flaming).
Playlist:
Tali Memory I: "Stay With Me" by Clint Mansell from the film The Fountain
Tali Memory II: "Life" by Harry Gregson-Williams from the film Prometheus