A/N: Okay, we're back with some more of this.
Hoo, boy, last chapter was an incredibly long one. I wonder if I can keep up with that and do stuff...
Well, I guess we better get a chapter out of the way where stuff happens. Let's get going.
"Getting to know you, getting to feel free and easy,
When I am with you, getting to know what to say,
Haven't you noticed suddenly I'm bright and breezy?
Because of all the beautiful and new
Things I'm learning about you,
Day by day!"
-Richard Rodgers
Chapter 2: Elgar: Introduction and Allegro
All right, we're in front of the Normandy now.
Shepard managed to convince the council to get us to chase after Saren. So now we're heading back to our ship. Anderson pulls Shepard to the side, wanting to talk with her briefly.
The Normandy looks majestic from here...
At least, it would be if everything wasn't so god damn blurry from here. Fuck my nearsightedness. The biggest reason I was able to make stuff out was because of color. I can still detect color. But when something is about two feet away from me, it comes out a little blurry. That's my eyesight in a nutshell. I hope Chakwas has an easy fix to that, but it'll have to wait for other things to happen before I attend to that. And yes, I was wearing glasses, but I think I must have lost them somewhere, because I don't know where the hell they are.
Whatever. Just roll with the punches right now.
We get to the airlock on the Normandy. I look to Tali as the rest of the gang gets closer.
"Well, looks like this will be our new home for a while," I say. Uh... shit, it sounds like I'm already married to her...
"I'm looking forward to it," she says cheerfully.
"I just hope that we'll be able to get Saren somehow," says Garrus, shaking his head behind me. "He is giving turians a bad name as we speak, I bet."
I nod, crossing my arms and looking at him. I give him a smile. "Don't worry, Detective Vakarian. We'll get him," I say. "And we'll make him pay."
I say it to lift his spirits. But also, because it will happen. I left out the part where we can talk him into committing suicide, but hey, you make do with what you've got.
He nods. "Why so formal, though?" he asks.
I roll my eyes as the air lock opens, and we all enter. "Well, you do have to admit, it's got a ring to it," I say. "Detective Vakarian. Perfectly tinny sort of phrase, in a good way. Detective Vakarian... Detective Vakarian... Why is it all those kinds of titles tend to make words that ring?"
"Better question," says Ashley, crossing her arms. "Why do you even care how much ring is in a name and title?"
I give her a confused glance. "Because I'm a musician and I like sound?" I ask, shrugging.
She rolls her eyes once before uncrossing her arms. "If you want to put it like that," she says, annoyance creeping in her voice as we exit the airlock. "But I really don't want to hear about it."
I raise an eyebrow at this. "I'm annoying you with my constant monologuing, aren't I?" I asked.
"Yes," she says simply. We leave the conversation at this as she walks off.
Kaidan shoots me a glance before he walks off as well. Oh, dear. I think he's suspecting me of something. Leave it to the biotic to be skeptical. Then again, I can't say I blame him all that much...
"Seems like you get along really well with people not of your species." Thank you for stating the obvious, Wrex.
"Seems like it indeed," I say, crossing my arms.
Garrus glances down at me, nodding. "I'm guessing you did have some pretty odd friends back on Earth," he says.
At this, I can't help but burst out laughing. It's a brief spell, though, and then all of the others are looking oddly at me. "I'm a bit wacky myself," I admit. "But I always tend to make friends with people that are either older than I am or that are exceedingly... different from what most humans my age are accustomed to."
"I can see a nice, healthy blend of both as it stands," says Tali, glancing briefly at the turian and the krogan.
At this, I have a hard time holding back a chuckle. Garrus seems to share my sentiment, his mood seeming to light up a bit.
"Yeah, this will be fun indeed," I say. "I'll see you guys around. I was told that I had to find one Dr. Chakwas before I did anything else on this ship. Get my physical done."
"All right," says Tali as I walk away. "We'll see you around.
I swear the three of them are continuing to talk about me behind my back, but I don't exactly mind. I just have to get used to the Normandy is all. That shouldn't be too hard...
Okay, it's harder than it looks. Jeez, why can't the SSV Normandy and the Normandy SR-2 be similar? Okay, I officially can't wait for the sequel to come around...
But... I think I'm close to the med bay nevertheless. I see an older woman with short blonde hair outside, looking around. Ah, she's rather attractive...
And I'm sizing up someone who's very much older than me. Squick ensues.
I smile, nodding to her. "Hello," I say. "You must be Dr. Chakwas."
The woman turns to face me, and I see the features. Yep, definitely Dr. Chakwas. "Ah, you must be Mr. *********," she says. "Welcome aboard the Normandy."
"Thank you, doctor," I say. "I'm guessing that Shepard called ahead to let you know to get a physical prepared?"
"That she did," replies the doctor. "It is so odd that someone with no military training would boad this ship, I should think."
"Yeah, well, I'd rather find out what the whole deal is with this than have one of the galaxy's finest trained soldiers hunting me because I got myself involved in something," I say with a dismissive hand wave. That, and I won't have any purpose here otherwise.
We both enter the med bay. She gestures to one of the beds as she gets a datapad from somewhere.
"Please take a seat," she says. "I'd like to ask you a few questions before we get into the greater part of the physical exam."
"Of course," I say, settling on the bed and rubbing my hands together. She sits there, going through the datapad and presumably preparing the questions she would ask me. Finally, she stands in front of me, authority crouching over her.
"All right," she said. "First, what are your earth weight and height?"
I shrug. "I'm 5 feet 6 and a half inches tall," I say. "And I don't know my weight, but when I last checked my weight it was somewhere between 150 and 160 pounds."
"Hm." Chakwas' eyes widen slightly in surprise as she types something in on it. "That's actually not a bad weight for your height."
"That's what they all say," I reply. "And yet I still don't feel totally secure with my weight. That'll change, though."
"Indeed it will," replies Chakwas, smirking good-naturedly. "Next question. Have you had any history of physical handicaps that you feel we should know about?"
Well, there's an obvious question. "I'm near-sighted, actually," I say.
She shoots me a glance. "And you haven't gotten it corrected?" she asks. "The surgery is available for a very nominal price these days."
I shake my head. "I wore glasses before I wound up in the Citadel," I reply, crossing my arms. "I didn't really see a need to get the surgery since I got so used to it that it became second nature to me. Now that I've been separated from them, though..."
She nods, typing things down in the datapad. "First thing we do when you have some spare time is that we'll have to get those eyes fixed," she said. "We can replicate that surgery here on the Normandy, quite thankfully."
I nod. "I appreciate it, doctor," I say.
"All right," she says. "Anything else you think we should know about?"
"Not that I know of," I say. "I also don't have any allergies, if it falls under handicaps."
Chakwas raises an eyebrow briefly before chuckling and typing things down on the datapad. "Not quite, but it saves me the trouble of asking the next question," is her reply.
I chuckled in reply, swinging my legs slightly as I reposition myself on the berth. Honestly, I've never felt so comfortable around a doctor before in my life. I blame it on the fact that she drinks Serrice Ice Brandy when she's not tending to patients, but overall I really like how she's making me feel easy. It's like being... comfortable. And I like it when things are professional, but not really. It makes me feel comfortable.
Especially critical since I'm not even from this universe. She doesn't need to know that, though.
"Skipping over that..." she continues. "Any hereditary problems?"
"My family has a history of heart disease," I say, shrugging. "I'm sure if I keep my health in good shape, though, I'll be fine."
"I see..." she says, noting it down on the data pad. "Any other history? Serious illness? Serious injury?"
I shake my head. "Not particularly," I say. "I sprained my right knee in two separate accidents on Earth, but that was years upon years ago. In terms of serious illness, I think the worst I've gotten was a really bad cold."
"Indicative of a nice, strong immune system," she says, smiling. "I think that will make disinfecting your wounds a little easier should you get any particularly nasty ones."
I shrug. "True that," I say. "But then again, I did live in an area where lots of citrus was grown, so I like to think that helped."
She nods in agreement, noting that on the datapad. "All right," she says. "Now, I heard from Shepard that you are able to put one of your legs behind your neck. Scarily flexible, if I recall."
Oh, boy, here we go. I let out a short laugh. "Actually, if you can believe it, I used to be able to do it with both of my legs," I reply. "I don't know if I can still do it, and if I can I definitely won't be able to hold it as long."
"You won't have to demonstrate that," she said, noting it on the datapad. "Any history of athletics?"
"Mostly around middle school," I say. "I ran track and field for two years, and also did Tae Kwon Do up to around a red belt. But that was years ago, so yeah..."
She shrugs, taking note of it. "It's better than nothing," she replies. "Especially going on such a mission."
"I guess..." I say, shrugging as I shift yet again.
She nods, looking at the datapad. "Ever done drugs?" she asks. "Alcohol?"
Oh, dear. "I did a hell of a lot of stimulants to get onto the Citadel," I say. "Alcohol, I've used a few times. Usually lighter faire, though, and never enough to make me not remember what I did the previous night. Other than that, nothing."
She nods, typing away on the datapad. She mutters a few things as she fills in some last blanks. "Age?" she asks.
"Nineteen," I reply. "Going on twenty pretty soon."
At this, she jerks slightly, and looks up from the datapad. "You're only nineteen and you tried stimulants?" she asked.
I shrug. "Again, I don't know what the hell I was thinking," I say. "Blame it on me being naive..."
"Still, that is worrisome," she said, shrugging. "You might get into an addiction later in life."
Rolling my eyes, I snort derisively. "As if," I say. "Music is my drug; if I'm bored, I just hum a random orchestral piece. Hell, you know what the worst part about real life is? It's that there's no incidental music playing in the background!"
I say the last sentence in such an upbeat and over-dramatized manner that her mood goes from sour to jolly as she snorts, trying poorly to hide her laughter. I smile at this. Yay, an attempt at being funny that someone actually found funny!
When she calms down, she smiles at me. "If you say so," she says. "Still, I would advise you to be careful around stimulants."
"Of course, doctor," I say, biting back the urge to retort with a 'yes, mother' reply. "Any more questions?"
She shakes her head, putting the datapad on the berth behind her. "No," she replies with a kind nod. "Follow me."
I get off of the berth and follow her, crossing my arms as she led me to a machine. Oh, hey, looks like an advanced MRI. And... Wait, it has other things I can just barely make out. What...?
"Is that...?" I ask.
"It will be the first part of the physical," she says, going to a virtual control panel and looking at the piece of technology. "This will scan your vital signs, and your health. I will ask that you do a few physical things afterwards, but this will cover most of the exam."
My dad would kill to see this, much less to repair it. Oh, boy...
"I see..." I said. "Interesting indeed..."
Chakwas nods, and then a bed is laid out from the machine. I know what to do. I lay down on the small berth, adjusting myself so that my hands are on my belly. Wait... shit, I've never even been in an MRI before! How am I supposed to get used to this?
The answer is provided as the doctor looks over me. "Try to relax," she says. "This process can take upwards of fifteen minutes. Scanners will go over your entire body, and a few might get very close, so just relax and you should be fine."
"All right, doctor," I say.
Just treat it like a facial. Close your eyes, and go to sleep. It should be simple, right?"
"All right," she says, returning to the control panel. "I'll be starting the exam... now."
And then the berth slowly retreats into the device. I go through it, and all is quiet as I close my eyes and wiggle my shoulders slightly.
And, we're just at the end of the physical.
"All right, Mr. *********, you can put your shirt back on."
I do so, and then I look to the doctor. "How'd the whole thing go?" I ask.
She takes a look at the datapad that had stored all of the information from the odd MRI-looking contraption, and she gave it a quick glance-over before nodding.
"Better than I expected," she says. "You should be able to get in shape following a strict excercise regimen that we should start today. If we get started now, you might only have to sit out of one mission before you can be useful to the team."
I rose an eyebrow, knowing what this meant. "Really?" I ask. "I was expecting more than that..."
"So was I, I'll admit," replies Chakwas, looking at the data pad with a smile. "Of course, you will have to go to the gym at least once every day, but I think if you exercise, you can be on a mission sooner."
I nod at this. "I like the idea," I say uncertainly. "I don't know if I'll be able to stick to a schedule, though..."
Chakwas nods supportingly. "I'll remind you every day to do so," she says. "We'll know for sure when you run into trouble in a few combat simulations we have planned for you."
I blink. That wasn't mentioned in the game. But then again, it's probably for the better, as it works out in my favor. "I see," I say. "And also, because I need to learn how to use a firearm..."
She nods. "Shepard will have Ashley attend to that with you," she replies. Oh, goody. I get to hang out with Ashley, who I get the feeling won't like me all that much. Yipee kay yay.
I don't say it, of course, nodding instead. "I see," I say. "Well, will that be all with me today?"
"Yes," replies Chakwas, typing a few things on the datapad. "I'll forward the information to the Alliance and to Shepard's personal terminal, so you should get started on your weight loss regime."
I nod, stepping off of the berth. "All right, doctor," I say. "I'll get right to it. Oh, and when do you want me to come for eye surgery."
"I'll prepare it for tomorrow morning," she says. "I'll be waiting for you as soon as breakfast is out."
"All right," I say. "Tomorrow morning after break..." Wait a second. If I wake up early again... "Actually, scratch that," I say. "Can you do it before breakfast?"
She shakes her head in reply. "I don't think so," replies Chakwas. "I know I won't be up at that time, so after breakfast. Besides, you need to lay down with your eyes covered for a few hours after the procedure, or else you could risk going blind..."
"I see..." I say, rubbing my chin. "All right, doctor. I'll see you tomorrow after breakfast, then."
Now, I'm not sure where the Normandy's gym is, but I'm sure I'll find it eventually. And so I nod to Chakwas, a maternal smile coming over her.
"Take care of yourself," she says.
"You too," I say, turning briefly before exiting the door. "We wouldn't want our medic to be injured!"
And with that, I leave the med bay, feeling great about myself. All right, I may only have to sit out of one mission! This will be quite fun. And now, I just have to do a lot of cardio and a little bit of strength training. I know I can move fast, and that I can get behind cover quickly, so I should be fine.
Shrugging, I go to one of the elevators on the Normandy. I'm not looking forward to how slow these damn things will be, but we'll see what happens soon enough. All right, press the button, and wait.
I found the gym all right. It's a bit of a dark place, but it's still looking rather cheerful compared to the rest of the ship. I'm with Yahtzee on this one: why is it that these kinds of futuristic ships are always painted monochrome grey? Isn't that... not homely? Anyway, there's a mirror, and the lights are pretty bright in here, so yeah. There is lots of equipment, some of it virtual and most of it physical. Good; at least they weren't taking shortcuts on health in the future. That said, though, I wonder how bad the obesity rate is... I know a few people who would like to comment on that. Especially Dr. Kern.
Ah, Dr. Kern. Thinking of this gym made me think about you and your notoriety throughout my high school. You were just so fit... And being a 70-year-old person, that's quite a feat that you were able to teach five periods of physical education in a row. I laugh when I remember our running joke in the school; very few things would be left in Miami if someone dropped a nuclear bomb of it. The punchline is that Dr. Kern was one of those things. And honestly, I could totally see it happen. In a word, Dr. Kern was the Chuck Norris of our school. Especially when we were getting CPR certifications in Health the next half of the year. My certification expired quite some time ago, but I still hang on to my card.
Oh... I wonder what she would say about all this equipment. She'd like that we're still using weights and stuff, and that there are ways of doing cardio in here. I just hope she won't mind the mess hall, though, 'cause damn me if that was not one hyper cheesy cheeseburger that I saw in the line. I didn't eat it, but I feel sorry for anyone who did. And their broccoli tasted a little over-processed... Shit, I can't wait until we get shore leave on the Citadel. Because then... restaurant time!
I was running on a futuristic treadmill (damn, does everything use holographic projection in his day and age?) when I hear footsteps by me. I feel eyes gazing on me, and then I look down to find Shepard there, looking at me with a smile on her face.
"Hello, Art," she says.
I look at her, smiling. "Hey there, Shepard," I reply. "Did you want to talk for a few minutes?"
"Yes," she says, crossing her arms in front of me. "Chakwas told me you might be here, and... well, she was right."
I nod, navigating the menus and stopping my program. I look down as the conveyor belt slows to a stop, and I grip the sides of the treadmill as I step onto the sides of the conveyor belt. The belt stops, and I hop off the treadmill, glancing at her with a smile on my face.
"I thought I'd get started on the exercise routine," I say, nodding. "Chakwas told me I would only need to sit out of one mission before I could join you guys on the ground."
She nods. "She told me the same thing," she replies. "How are you reacting to your new regimen?"
I shrug while looking at the treadmill behind me. "I'm struggling a little," I say. "But you know what they say: keep pushing yourself, and you'll get results."
"Just don't push yourself too hard," she says. "We don't want you suffering an injury."
I wave a hand dismissively, chuckling. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that," I say. "I'm usually so overworked about whether something is safe or not that... well, you know..." I lift my hands then. "Plus, I've had years of attempting to keep my hands safe," I add to that. "Comes as part of the job description when you're a musician, really."
She rose an eyebrow at this. I shrugged as I continue. "Well, you know, I need my fingers to write music, and if I don't have any fingers on my left hand I can't exactly produce any notes on a viola," I add.
She nods. "I see," she says. "But you never can be too careful. Exercise caution."
"I will," I assure her. "I'll do my best, at any rate."
Things are a little quiet between us, and then I look to her. "So I heard at the mess hall today that Captain Anderson is no longer with us," I say.
"Indeed he is not," she replies. "He passed control of the ship on to me just after you entered the Normandy. I'm now your superior officer, Mr. *********. And it's my responsibility to make sure you get out of this all right." She pats my shoulder. "Be careful, Art. The last thing we need is for a man to die out there."
I nod. "I will, Commander!" Yay, I get to call her Commander now! That makes me... a little excited, of course.
Shepard nods in reply. "You have anything else you might want to tell me before we call it on?" she asks.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you something," I say. "Since I've never handled a firearm before, what shall we do about that?"
Shepard chuckled. "Simple," she replies. "I'll have Ash teach you, of course."
Oh, dear. I can already tell that I'll be getting on her nerves... That is not going to be fun. Especially since she looks like the type that'll explode on me if I so much as step the wrong way. And especially not since she doesn't seem to like me right now...
"Oh, dear," I say, rubbing my head. "That is going to be painful..."
Shepard shrugs. "You're used to taking lessons from people, right?" she asks.
Thinking about it, I frown and nod. "Yeah, but I get the distinct feeling I'm annoying Ashley with my tendency to go on about long tangents that have nothing to do with anything," I say. "And I'm pretty sure it'll end up with me having a few teeth knocked out."
Shepard chuckles at this, although whether it's from my overacting or not I can't exactly gauge. Nor do I really want to. "Ash seems like she has more patience than that with a firearm," she says. "You're in good hands, don't worry."
Thinking a little bit, I shrug. "All right," I say. "I'll bear with it. For now. But if I walk into the med bay with a bruised nose one of these days, I'm pulling 'the spiel'!"
Inquisitively, my commander crossed her arms. "The spiel?" she asks.
"Yeah," I say, nodding. "That one where I moan the fact that my pleas fall on deaf ears... Happens all the time. I may or may not give it, but you know... I don't exactly like to be ignored."
At this, her expression is a little miffed. "Don't worry, Art, I'm not trying to ignore you," she says.
I glance back at her as I climb back onto the treadmill. "It's only if I feel like it," I say a little naively. "I know you're not ignoring me. After all, you said it was your job to look after me, right? And since you look out for your underlings, you're listening to me."
Shepard smiles at this as she uncrosses her arms. "By the way, we'll need to get you your Omni-tool," she says. For now, I'm leaving it with Ash. She'll give it to you when you start your training."
Sweet! I get to have an omni tool! "All right," I say.
She nods at me. "I'll leave you alone now," she said. "You get yourself in good shape after this coming mission, all right?"
"Of course," I reply, smiling as I go through the treadmill menus again. "Thanks for talking with me, Shepard."
"Any time, Art," she says.
With this she leaves. I hesitate at the menu I'm on, thinking about how Shepard must be to her friends. If what I just witnessed was any indication, we'll be fine. She definitely likes to check up on her crew, just like we can make her do in the games. It's fun, honestly. Nevertheless, I have no attraction to her. I mean, I'm way younger than she is! Probably not enough squickiness to match up to Dr. Chakwas, but still...
Wait, why do I always undress people, anyway? Why? What is going on?
Ah, well. At least I think I can be friendly with Shepard. I don't know how she works yet, but she looks like a Paragon Shepard too. Paragon Shepards are always nice. I don't really see a point for Renegade Shepard unless you want to get some of the game's funnier bits, but we'll see how that goes.
I just hope she punched Khalisa al-Jilani on her way here. The bitch deserves it, and it's one of the few renegade interrupts I'll stand behind.
I did some more exercise before calling it a day, hitting the showers as soon as I had finished working out. When I exited, I though I'd go hang out with a few of the crew members before dinner. After thinking a little bit, I thought I should hang out with Tali briefly, as I want to get to know her a little better. True, there's the game, but still, I wish I could get to know her outside of it. After all, her recruitment changed when I showed up, so you never know if she did too.
Ah, well. I... Shit, I just realized I lost the game. Fuck me! Fuck!
Ah, well. If I remember correctly, Tali was down in Engineering in both of the games. So yeah. I walk down there, and I see my first drive core.
Wow. It looks even better than it does in the game. The large silver ball levitates in the air, blue sparks flying off of it every so often. I can imagine a choir singing in the background... Wow, this looks really majestic, it does. There's a sheen to it that it doesn't have in the game. And... wow, I can't believe I'm looking at this technology! I lean over the engine room, looking at it. It's fascinating to watch... Especially the sparks. They're all blurry right now, but I can still see how they arc around the core. It's fascinating as they jump around, leaving brief impressions of forest twigs, and never once being exactly the same. And the sparks are so quiet, too... It's... serene...
"I see your attention is caught on that."
Tali. I hear her footsteps coming up behind me, and I can imagine her in her Mass Effect 2 outfit. Oh, damn it, Art, she's not that color yet! She won't get it until after her pilgrimage! Ah, well.
I look up at the core, leaning against the railing as I do so.
"Yeah," I say. "This core... It looks amazing. It's too bad it's all a blur for me right now."
I can feel Tali shift behind me. "Really?" she asks. "Is... this relating to eye problems that I hear are common among humans?"
"Yep," I say, folding my hands together. "I have what they would call 'near-sightedness'."
I turn around and face her, feeling a little disappointed that she's not in her much more attractive ME2 outfit. "Like, let's put it in relation to you," I say. "I can see everything close to me fine. It all looks fine there. But without correction, everything from about a foot in front of that face mask of yours comes out blurry. And as an object gets farther away from you, it only gets worse. Eventually, you lose sight of the edges of every object you see."
"Doesn't sound good for fighting things," she tells me.
"From a distance, no," I say. "I had glasses, but I lost track of them when I woke up on the Citadel. I'm getting corrective surgery done tomorrow, though, so I think I'll be able to see normally without them anyway."
I don't think she had an idea what glasses are, but I think she understood their function, so she nods. "But can you still make things out?"
Common misconception much? Whatever. "Yeah," I reply. "I can still make out colors from quite a distance away. It's just that after a certain distance, the objects become difficult to distinguish. So that's me."
She crosses her arms. "I see," she says as she walks next to me on the little platform I'm standing on.
We're both silent for a little bit, and we're not inclined to talk that much. Looking at the drive core, I decide a change of subject is in order. "So, I guess you've been on the fleet before your Pilgrimage?"
"For my entire life," replies Tali. "We only leave the fleet if we are on our Pilgrimage, or if we have been exiled. Some choose to stay where they are during the course of their Pilgrimage, but their children are welcomed back to the fleet."
I nod, and I turn to face her. "And what about the Pilgrimage?" I ask. "I'm not sure I know too much about that, but..."
Tali shrugs "It's a coming of age for the quarian people," she replies. "We use it to find anything that can be useful to the fleet. Once we do, we go back. And then... our name changes."
I raise my eyebrow, playing along. But it is still something I need to ask. I gesture, frowning slightly. "Well, don't you think it's a bit much to change your name when you complete a Pilgrimage?" I ask. "I don't know because I'm not a quarian, but... doesn't that get a little confusing? I know for my money I would have a tough time getting used to calling someone else a different name after they get something for the fleet."
She shakes her head. "Not really," she says. "If we're lucky and our ships are not destroyed, we only have to change our name once. And even then, it is not too complicated."
"I see..." I say, rubbing my chin. "You know, it's funny you should refer to it as a 'coming of age' thing, because on Earth all the coming of age things have religious significance to them, and not merely "we need to get stuff done physically". I mean, there's education, but that hardly counts given how I think of it..."
She tilts her head to the side. "Quarians are different in that regard," she says. "We... we were kicked off of the homeworld by the geth, and now we live in close quarters. We have to prove that we can be useful. Or else..."
I nod, crossing my arms as I lean against the rail. "Uh-huh," I say, thinking of what to ask next. "I don't know too much about the geth, but what I do know is that they weren't originally sentient the way they are now."
"They were not," replies Tali, confirming that the geth are still like they are in the game. "They developed it on their own. But when they asked us if they had a soul, we... panicked, for lack of a better word. The geth were a mistake."
Oh, dear. I hope we can get Legion once ME2 rolls around. I'd like to tell him that I think he has a soul. "Well, I don't know about that," I say. "Do you think they would have reacted differently if the quarians hadn't been so afraid of them? Maybe told them they did have a soul?"
She seems ready to reply, but she pauses. A three-fingered hand goes to her face mask, uncertain of what to say after that. Aha, I think I hit a nerve. We'll have to see how she recovers from that, and what she thinks about it.
"You know..." she says. "Now that you put it like that... I'm not sure many of us think of it that way. But I would not know."
I nod, holding my hands out as I get off the railway. "Exactly," I say. "AI may be a crapshoot, but you never know."
"It's not that simple," replies Tali, looking down at the ground. "The Council has many anti-AI laws to prevent cases like what happened. Despite everything else, we were unable to keep down the threat. When the Council found out, we were stripped of our embassy there and left to our own resources. And now... there is much racism against members of our species. And it's kind of heart-breaking, really."
At this, I tensed, looking at Tali. "Shit..." I say. "That's..." I shake my head, a frown coming to my face as rage bubbles inside of me. I know they already did that, but still... It's unspeakably cruel. "So you made a being that earned sentience on its own. I don't think it's justifiable to destroy a peoples' credibility when it wasn't even their own fault that they gained sentience!"
I shake my head and look out to the drive core. "That makes me a little sick," I say. "My species is hardly one to talk, if our multiple instances of fantastic racism say anything, but still... You can't just be denied your basic fucking rights because of something that was out of your control." I shake my head. "People are fucking idiots in every race, it seems..."
She glances at me, and I feel my rage boiling down slightly. She seems to retreat slightly, and then comes forward.
"It's a little more complicated," she says. "But... I can see what you are saying. It... It feels different to know a non-quarian sees our plight as such."
I nod, turning around to face her. "Maybe there's a way we can get you to return to your homeworld?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says uncertainly. "The geth are still on the planet, and we have no way to get it back without losing a huge part of the fleet. The Council is of no help, as they've refused to help us defeat them. The quarian people know this, and... it won't be so simple to get the home world back."
Note to self: ask Legion about Rannoch. And then, get him to follow up on that. And then get the quarians to see that not all geth are evil. But I don't say any of that, 'cause that would prove I know too much. And besides, we haven't found Legion yet and we won't find him for a few years, so it's not worth mentioning now anyway.
But I do smile and walk away from the drive core. "I think there must be a way that we can do it without bloodshed," I say. "There has to be."
Tali looks at me readily. "That is quite naive thinking you have there," she says.
I turn the conversation on its head. "It's not that simple," I reply. "But when you think about it, nothing is. I'm going to go hang out with a few more crew members. I'll see you around, Tali."
She nods. "Of course," she says. "Oh, and thank you for saving my life back on the Citadel."
Pausing, I roll my eyes. Oh, dear, she hasn't stopped thanking me about that. "Tali, you've thanked me enough," I say. "But all the same, you're welcome."
And with that, I leave the drive core behind. Time to figure out where the rest of the crew is.
I sought out Wrex after that. He seems like a pretty cool guy even if he is a bit brutish. Especially if the badassery he displayed with killing Fist says anything.
I eventally find him looking at the Mako from where we are. Ah, yes, that thing. The object of wrath of many players, the least of who included Yahtzee last I checked. I'm not looking forward to riding that thing if the physics for it really are as trampoline-like as I think they are. We'll have to see...
Meanwhile, there he is. I approach him, and he casts a glance at me with... Oh, god, the glance is creeeeeepyyyyy...
Okay, no time to think about that now.
"Hi, Wrex," I say, nodding. "Hopefully I got the name right this time."
"You did," he confirms, giving me a look on his face that shows he is not all too pleased at me. "Earthborns always tend to be racist like that. Especially young ones."
I frown slightly. "Well, that's hardly fair," I say. "Besides, look who's talking."
Wrex gives me an odd look. "What do you mean?" he asks.
"Well, let me put it this way," I say, gesturing with my hands. "I hear your name is "Urdnot Wrex". The first thing that comes to mind is 'oh, his name must be Urdnot, and his family name is Wrex'. So I assumed something that was totally wrong."
"I guess you're going to say something about how I just did the same thing to you," he replies.
I point my finger at him, smiling coyly. "Bingo," I say. "We both made judgements that aren't necessarily true."
"I see," he says. "I still hold it against you."
I shrug, closing my eyes briefly as I sauntered over so I was looking at the Mako myself. "Well, let me put it this way," I say. "Everyone makes judgements based on race. Everyone's a little bit racist. But that doesn't mean we go around committing hate crimes. If we only realized that, maybe it could help us get along."
He nods. "I guess," he says. "But still... it also has to do with the fact that Shepard let a weakling on her ship."
I give him a sidelong glance, knowing almost as soon as the words leave his mouth that he's talking about me. "I don't like that, but I like it that you're at least telling me head on," I say. "I dunno about you, but I absolutely fuckin' hate it when people talk behind my back about stuff like that."
"You seem like a more sensitive type," he replies. "A thinker. On Tuchanka, that would get you killed."
I shrug, tilting my head to the side for the briefest second. "Well, being sensitive doesn't always make you weak," I say. "I mean, I've never fought in wars, but I think you should give me a little more credit here." After all, I did get Ethan to chop his finger off in Heavy Rain. That was incredibly difficult to watch and it still makes my heart race thinking about that, but I think I can hold my ground. "I mean, I'm one of those people that draws inner strength from thinking a lot. So I'm out of shape and haven't fought in a war before. Okay. I'd rather listen to music than shoot someone. That's fine too. But I can learn to live with myself, and I think that's the most important thing."
He is silent for a brief period of time, and I can't read his expression. Damn krogan expressions being too hard to read! After a bit, he nods.
"Young and naive," he says, crossing his arms. "Life will eventually break you."
I understand where he's coming from. The poor guy killed his own father when a disagreement in views came about. I don't press it, though.
"Not surprising you should say that, seeing as how I'm only 19," I say. "But still, I think it's possible to keep that kind of outlook on life even in extremely old age."
He shakes his head. "Not when you can live to be a thousand years old like I have," he replies. "But then, you probably don't know that either."
"Don't worry, I know about your lifespan," I say. "If I know about the genophage, I at least know something about you guys. But still... Maybe they'll be a way."
He grunts noncommittingly. "Your innocence will be the end of you," he tells me. "Optimism has no place in this galaxy."
I shrug. "We'll have to see," I say. "That, we'll have to see."
He nods, and I launch myself from what I was leaning against. "But just know that I'm not all sunshine and flowers," I say. "I can think of at least twenty ways that I can brutally torture someone, the least of which includes cutting their fingers off with a butcher knife."
This gets Wrex's attention, and he actually emotes a lot more this time. He's silent for at least fifteen seconds before he chooses to reply.
"You're not as innocent as we think," he replies at length, giving me what I can only assume is a nervous glance.
"Yeah," I say. "The world's pretty fucked up, you can't deny that. I just choose not to ignore when something good is found."
He nods as I walk slowly away. "I'm gonna go around a bit," I say. "I'll catch you later, Wrex."
He gives a huff of breath. "I'll see you later, I guess," he says.
Eh, he'll learn to call me by name eventually. I think he's really interesting, honestly. He's all world-weary and all that. I'd really like to talk to him some more, if only to see what he thinks about all that is going on. I might be young and naive, but young and naive can be a good thing.
We'll have to see whether he survives Virmire or not. I really hope he does, 'cause he's too cool to die like that. And if Ash kills him anyway, I'll shoot her in the face.
I walk away, whistling a small Rodgers and Hammerstein tune as I walk away. Oddly enough, it's 16 Going On 17...
I hung out with a few more people in the crew, and then I had dinner and went to bed. It was a long night, and I had trouble going to sleep as usual, but I felt great when I woke up. So I had breakfast in an especially perky mood, and then I went in for my eye surgery with Chakwas supervising it. That was quite an experience. Now I know how my sister must have felt during the laser surgery.
So now, I'm lying on a berth in the med bay, attempting to catch up on sleep as I have this cloth over my eyes meant to keep the light out. It's... quite meditative, actually. I just have to think of this like a facial, and it works beautifully. I think I even managed to get two hours of REM sleep, which is always nice given that I can never seem to get as much of it as I really need.
Chakwas is telling me to take it easy today as my eyes might still have a tough time adjusting to light. So she recommended taking today off from working out. Good thing, too, 'cause my legs are sore as hell right now. Phoo...
Yeah, this is gonna be fun when I wake up. Or, if someone decides to interrupt my beauty sleep again. Tali has already done so to make sure I'm all right, Kaidan, Ash, and Shepard did so out of business, and Wrex hasn't come. I wouldn't expect him to, given that I don't think he takes to optimism, but still. And Chakwas has been standing there making sure the cloth doesn't come off of my eyes before it's too early. So that leaves Garrus...
"Well, I see you are doing fine here, Art."
Speak of the devil.
"Why, hello there, Detective Vakarian," I say a little groggily. "What brings you here?"
"Well... mild curiosity mostly," replies Garrus sardonically. "Although, I will admit that you calling me 'Detective Vakarian' is beginning to get on my nerves."
I chuckle softly. "I dunno," I say. "You might have to get used to it, because I really like it, and when I really like something, you can't exactly convince me to drop it."
Things are silent between us for a few seconds as he looks down at me. Finally, a sigh... or as close as a turian can get to one, apparently. "I'll keep that in mind, then," he says. "If I ever find an exploitable trait, you better look out."
I chuckle, smiling softly. "I'm looking forward to see what you come up with," I say. And I mean that, too. People compared me to Harry Potter a little too much for my own safety back home, so here I wonder what they'll come up with. Especially Garrus, what with being a turian and all.
"In all seriousness, though, how do your eyes feel?" he asks, changing the subject.
I shrug. "I honestly don't know," I say. "Personally, I'm just taking this time to catch up on lost sleep, but it's usually not too long. My eyes were feeling pretty funny the first hour or so, but afterwards I've been feeling pretty good. I'm stuck with this bloody cloth for two more hours, though..."
"I see," he says. "I wonder what led to your sight problems in the first place... From what I hear this kind of problem is rare in humans these days."
I shrug. "I was one of those kids," I say, shrugging. "Looked at people wearing glasses on old Earth vids that belong to my family and thought it was the coolest fucking thing in the universe. So I refused to get surgery. Now, though, I don't exactly have a choice in the matter, so yeah... I'm a bit of a traditionalist, if you ask me. All the media I really care about is stranded in the 2000's..."
Garrus chuckles at this. "Interesting," he says. "I take it you really like older Earth vids?"
Given that I went through a one hundred year time skip and some of the vids I know back home probably don't exist here anymore... "Yeah," I say. "You've probably never heard of a few of them, though. You ever seen older human vids?"
"A couple," replies Garrus. "Mostly of the science fiction variety. I'd have to say that my favorite of those so far is called District 9..."
Wait, what? Are you serious? Sweet Jesus, yes! Niel Blomkamp existed in the Mass Effect universe! Sweet! I'm so happy I almost get the cloth off, but I smile broadly instead. Now I need to find out what that one movie he was making that was supposed to be released in 2011 is and I'll be happy. Actually, I wonder what the rest of his filmography is like...
But that can wait, because one of my favorite movies is in the Mass Effect universe! Yay!
"Hey, that's one of my favorites!" I exclaim.
"You too?" he asks, suddenly seeming quite happy.
"Hell yeah!" I say, raising a hand in a high five gesture. I hope Garrus gets the hint.
And he does, as I feel his talons slap against mine ever so softly. I assume he doesn't want to get the cloth off of my face.
"Turians tend not to like that film," he admitted. "What with those alien creatures being too close to home for us... Especially with an exoskeleton and all. But, they are fictional, so some are able to brush it off. I like it for the last half-hour or so, but also since it's dark."
Aw, the prawns don't exist in this universe. That makes me a sad panda, but at least I still have the movie!
"Oh, it becomes a lot better when you understand the historical context," I add. "That's a product of a really bad period of racism in one small country on the tip of Africa. And when you know some of the things they did in that time... Hoo boy."
"You seem to like talking about old Earth vids," he says.
You have no idea, Detective Vakarian. That copy of Citizen Kane that I rented from Netflix is probably still sitting in my apartment... God, I wished I had watched that the night before!
"Yeah," I say. "They're awesome. Actually, you know what would be really cool? If we had movie nights here on the Normandy where we all just exhibited various vids and stuff. Now that would be cool."
Garrus seems to like it as he pats my leg. "Actually, that doesn't sound like too bad an idea," he says. "We all get to hang out, get to know each other better... I like the idea."
I shrug. Well, I was wondering how we could get the whole crew to bond as one group other than having Shepard do all their favors for them. The solution has presented itself, and not on the battlefield either.
"Great!" I say. "I'll pitch the idea to Shepard when I get a chance."
Garrus regards me for a second, and... oh, god damn it, why does this cloth have to be on my face? Oh, wait, yeah, way to answer my own question. Even then, though, I have to wear sunglasses for the rest of the day, so I'm not totally off the hook yet. Watch; I'll find some way to violate this...
"I'm looking forward to what happens," he says finally. "I've got some calibrations to do. I'll see you around."
"See ya, Detective Vakarian," I intone playfully.
I can hear him growl, and I laugh softly. Ah, always fun to pull the Detective Vakarian card on him when he least expects it. Ah, I'm gonna have so much fun with that it's gonna be ridiculous.
Quite some time later, I'm walking around the Normandy wearing sunglasses. Wow, everything here seems pretty dark. But things don't look so blurry from a distance anymore. So, I guess it was successful. I just can't take these glasses off today, or else... But it seems I can see normally again without something resting on my nose.
My parents would be quite pleased that I got eye surgery. But... they're not here right now. So they'll never know. Unless I return to my own world. Speaking of which... since I played Vexations to get over here, maybe it would work the same way to go back? Maybe I don't have to do it right away: I'd only see the events of Mass Effect 2 to the end and return briefly, as I'm sure Mass Effect 3 will be out back in my universe by the time that happens. At least that way I can get the official version of how the Reapers were destroyed. Or...
Hm... You know what? I'm half wondering if there are going to be a few Big Lipped Alligator Moments while I'm here. It happened to John, I'm sure it could happen to me... We'll have to see. For now, I hope I don't get assaulted by any, because the last thing I need is for that to happen while I'm still recovering from eye surgery. But they do come right the fuck out of nowhere, so I can't be too hopeful.
Hm. Wearing sunglasses at night. I could get used to this. But then again, my eyes are adjusting to the light now, so yeah...
And this is still really surreal. I can't imagine how Sam Lowry would have taken this. If this had been his lobotomy fantasy instead of running off with Jill Layton, I wonder how he would have felt. Maybe that's all this is. I probably just hit myself on the head and am in an asylum now. Just like that one production of Elektra Sturge was telling me about once. Who did that again? I don't know.
But it's still pretty wierd walking around on the SSV Normandy. That much is for sure. Soon enough, I'm pretty sure I'll stop thinking of Normandy as a landing site for DDay and I'll start thinking of it as a ship that Seth Green pilots. That will be a bit wierd once I finally get used to it. Knowing me, that might not be too far away...
Oh, there's Kaidan. I'd like to talk with him a little bit, as he says he really wants to ask me something.
I lean against the wall, adjusting my sunglasses slightly as I regard him, now in high definition. "Hey, Kaidan," I say.
He nods, pausing where he is. "Hello, Art," he says. "I hope you're all right with the eye surgery."
"I'll live," I say, shrugging. "I got used to parading around with glasses; this doesn't really feel all that different, except for the whole color scheme bit."
He smiles softly at this. "Of course," he says.
I nod and push off the walls. "So, you wanted to ask me something?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says, and I nod. "I wanted to ask about Earth."
Oh, dear. That is not gonna go well. Whatever he does, I hope he doesn't ask about the politics. I'm still stuck with Barack Obama's presidency, and I have no way of knowing how that turned out so far. Furthermore, I haven't had any time to go to the extranet (and I won't be able to with this eye surgery at least for today), and so I don't know. I hope he's been keeping track of their politics himself, because I absolutely cannot help him there...
But I can't just say no...
"Sure," I say. "I just hope it's not politics, because I like to ignore that." It's not true at all, but it'll have to do.
"Actually, I'm quite up to date on that," he replies. Oh, thank God. That was close. "Just, wanted to get to know a little more about where you are from on Earth."
That shouldn't be too much to ask, although I'm not sure if the U.S. has undergone any kind of problems with that. "Of course," I say. "Well, I was actually born and raised in the Western Hemisphere. They nickname it America."
"Ah, the U.S., I see," he replies. Okay, good, so the US hasn't changed names in that time. Which is odd... "I hear things are relatively stable down there."
I raise my eyebrows. "If it's how I think it is right now, trust me, it's never stable," I reply, chuckling. "There's always some nutjobs trying to get around the place." Don't bring up issues.
"And whereabouts in the US are you from?" he asks.
"Florida," I reply. All right, another half-truth is ready to launch. "The tip of it. I'm descended from a lineage of purely Cuban people that resided there."
He rose an eyebrow. "Cuba?" he asks. "You mean Nueva Havana?"
Okay, so Cuba went through a name change? Okay. I knew the Castro brothers had messed it up, but still... "Yeah, that's what I mean," I say. "But my... my ancestors came over from when the Castro brothers took over. It was still called Cuba back then, if memory serves me correctly." Which I'm really hoping it does.
He frowns slightly. Oh dear. I don't like where this conversation is heading. But still, play along, Art. Play along, and it'll be all right... I hope...
"I see..." he says, looking at me inquisitively. "I guess I never knew my Earth history that well."
Oh, okay. But still, I don't think I trust that all too much. I'm keeping my eye on you, Lieutenant. "I know a lot of it," I say. "Mostly older developments, but you know what I mean. I always have trouble remembering the past hundred years or so..."
He nods, and if he's suspicious I don't see any indications of it being so. I just hope things are all right... "And how are things going there with music? I hear it's really, really hard to make a living as a composer these days."
Oh, dear. "When hasn't it been difficult?" I ask, shrugging. "It's always been a hard profession."
Kaidan gives me a raised eyebrow. "Really?" he asks. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, think about it," I say. "Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven are really the only guys from the classical era you hear about all that much. And yet there were tons of other composers in that era that not too many people know about these days. It's a tough profession, but it's always been like that. You get famous in life, and then fall by the wayside once you die. That, or they hated you in life and they love you all of a sudden when you die. You have to be dead to know if you were any good."
The Lieutenant chuckles at this. "That's true," he says. "But hopefully, we can make sure you are successful on the Citadel..."
"I hope," I say, shrugging. "We'll have to see what happens. I was only a student when I got there, but we'll see." Especially so since I won't be able to continue my schooling like this.
He shrugs. "You know, I knew your name had some kind of Spanish tinge to it," he says. "I actually almost expected that you would be from Spain!"
Raising my eyebrows, I crossed my arms. "Really?" I ask. "You do realize that hispanic cultures all differ from each other, right?"
"Of course," he says. "But that doesn't stop speculation."
I nod, seeing his point. "That, and it's impossible to tell what version of hispanic a person is just by hearing a name," I say. "So that's kind of justified."
"I see," he says. "Art, the Hispanic soldier. I don't think you can actually speak any Spanish..."
I give him a glare. Just because I was born in an English-speaking country doesn't mean I can't speak Spanish! "Bueno," I reply, crossing my arms. "Hay que..." Hay que... damn it, what was the word for 'to prove'? Shit, I can't remember...
"Seems like it's a bit rusty to me," he says.
Son of a bitch!
I shake my head. "Yeah, you got me," I say. "I don't really know Spanish all that well. But I can still conjugate. Porque ustéd necesita que comprender que es solo el vocabulário con que tengo problemas. And possibly word order. But you know what I mean."
"I see," he says, rubbing his chin. "I'll keep it in mind. Nice talking to you, and take care of your eyes."
"I will, Lieutenant," I say.
And with this, we go our own separate ways. Fun times occur indeed.
Well, it's been a pretty hectic two days. I've gotten settled into the Normandy, gotten eye surgery performed, talked about vids with Garrus, talked to Tali some more, talked to Wrex, talked to Kaidan, talked to Ashley, talked to Shepard...
I'm beginning to feel at home here. As well, my eyesight's returned to what it was before I was even aware of anything wrong with my sight. As I lay here in my bed in the crew quarters, I'm left thinking about everything.
She gave us a speech. But I don't exactly remember what it was about. She told me and a few others that she would go after Liara T'Soni first, and I remember thinking to myself that it would be quite incredible to meet an asari. So I'm quite looking forward to it.
What I am less looking forward to is sitting out of the next mission with Ash staying behind to train me in firearms. But we'll have to see how that goes.
For now, I think I could get used to this. Mostly. I just wish I had an application that allowed me to compose and stuff. And also, my viola. I wish I still had that. Hell, I wish I still had my manuscript paper with me! I'd get a lot of composing done that way.
Oh well. Not much I can do about that.
For now, I'm Art, I'm an Earthborn, I never came from another dimension, I was on a stimulant trip, and I was never seen playing with my toys. And I'm still looking for an instrument.
So yeah. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, and I'm feelin' good.