Well, here it is, folks: My latest installment of To Build A Home. It's rather short (and LATE), but my next chapter should make up for that since, last I checked, it was 10,000 words long. It's excessively long, extremely late, and I will freely admit that it's almost completely rubbish. Some might say that it contains too much exposition at an inappropriate location, that I dragged it on for too long, et cetera, but I digress. Let me just say that I hate, hate, hate it already, though it serves its purpose well. I'm too lazy to go back and write a complete novelization of Mass Effect 1, 2, and 3, so I've had to cram a lot of character development into it. Ultimately, it makes for an uninteresting read, but necessarily progresses my Shep's story from point A to point B. So, if you're reading this fic for some interesting action and not so much character development, please feel free to skip this next chapter entirely. I won't blame you. I did try to make it entertaining, at least, but that's another matter altogether. My sincerest apologies, amigos. Try not to judge me too harshly, please. Now, does the fact that it's long make up for the fact that it's late, I wonder?
As for this chapter... I wanted to explore a few of Shepard's fears and develop his character a little more. That would be all.
IMPORTANT NOTE: If there's something you'd like to see happen in later chapters of 'To Build A Home,' be sure to shoot me a review or PM me, and I'll see if I can squeeze it into what I already have planned. No promises, of course, but I'm always open to new ideas and suggestions. I'll even be sure to give you credit for your idea.
REVIEWERS' NOTICE: I have moved my review-responses/acknowledgements to the bottom of the fic due to... you know, reasons.
Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome and appreciated. No flames, please.
Chapter Six :
A Rock And A Hard Place
oOoOo
"Shepard-Commander," announced Legion suddenly. "Please, proceed to the docking port."
The geth's synthetic voice filled the empty chamber with ominous intent, and Shepard only awarded him — it — with a brief glance in exchange. Then, wordlessly, he did as he was asked, and stepped carefully into the pod-shaped contrivance that Legion had informally christened a 'docking port.' His heart hammered inexplicably against his chest as he did so, but he refused to believe that he was afraid.
No. He couldn't possibly be afraid of this. Not when he already had so many more pressing things to fear, and with the Reapers being the most prominent fear among them.
Everything else simply paled in comparison to that.
Nevertheless, fear had somehow buried itself beneath his skin and become his ever-present companion. And he was now afraid of so many things — afraid of closing his eyes for fear of what he might see in his dreams, afraid of letting his friends leave his line of sight for fear that he might not be there to save them when they needed him the most, and he was deathly afraid that everything he was now doing and working towards would ultimately be in vain.
Couldn't it already? asked a small, almost imperceptible voice from the deepest recesses of his skull.
No, he wanted to scream in reply, until he's gone blue in the face. Not yet. Not yet.
But Shepard shook his head quickly, trying to dislodge that unwelcome voice from his head. As always, he didn't allow his mind to linger upon that trail of thought for very long. And so, with one leg thrown over the barrier, his armored body half-in and half-out of the strange contraption, Shepard hesitated. He then turned to his two worried-looking squad-mates.
As it was, Tali stood nearby with her head slightly bowed, nervously wringing her hands together. Seeing that almost made him smile. Almost. A restless Garrus lurked behind her, gripping a primed M-15 Vindicator rifle in his talons. Like Shepard, he seemed to have taken a particular interest in the inactive geth prime units that were situated around the chamber because his keen eyes darted distrustfully from one to another.
Inwardly, Shepard sighed. He was quite aware of the fact that his lover disapproved of this mission and all he had to do. After all, she'd made that painfully clear on the shuttle-ride over. But he didn't know what to make of Garrus, who had remained surprisingly mute on the subject at hand. There were simply no alternative solutions . . . or at least, none that he could see. And while he did trust Legion, even going so far as to consider him a friend, much like he'd already told the quarian admirals, Shepard still wished that there was another way. Any other way. Which, of course, only served to show that even Shepard himself was uncomfortable with this mission, though he'd never tell any of the others that. Especially Tali.
There were just so many things that could go wrong . . . Too many unknowns in the equation. The machine could easily malfunction and trap him inside of the geth consensus, couldn't it? It sounded like something taken straight out of a horrific sci-fi vid, and yet did not seem totally impossible. . . . With his luck, anyway, it wouldn't be much of a surprise. Or it might react badly with his extensive collection of cybernetics and simply fry his brain instead. Couldn't it? Regardless, he couldn't help but wonder: Had the geth taken any of this into consideration?
It might not even work at all. A tiny part of himself actually hoped that this would prove to be the case, if only to save himself, and the rest absolutely loathed the fact that he was thinking this at all. For wanting the easy way — no, the coward's way — out.
And I'm no coward, he wanted to growl in reply. And kick himself while he was at it.
But he had to try . . . didn't he? For the quarians. For Tali. He knew that the geth fighters were on-route to target the quarian live-ships, and, with no live-ships, the quarians would be hard-pressed to provide enough dextro-based food for themselves. A lot of innocent people would die if he just stood by and did nothing . . . So, into the 'docking port' he went. Honestly, he didn't have much of a choice at all. For him, there was only one clear course of action, and that was to save the live-ships, no matter the cost.
It was what his father would have done in his place, if he was still alive, and that profound knowledge obliterated any resistance he might still have had.
Ultimately, Shepard tried to give his lover the most reassuring smile he could muster. A smile that would effectively convince her that everything was going to be okay, and that would set all of her doubts to rest, even if only temporarily. After seeing this, however, Tali took one hesitant step towards him.
"Shepard," she murmured, anxiously.
"You know me; I'll be fine," he told her quickly, and in that infuriatingly self-depreciative way of his. In other words, his voice sounded more confident than he felt, but it was his subtle tone that cinched the deal and brooked no argument. And as he spoke, his eyes flashed towards the shadowy corners of the facility, and his troubled mind fell upon the geth primes that he, too, had glimpsed on the way in.
"Just . . . be careful, okay?"
He had directed this last sentiment to Garrus, too, but Tali took it to heart, nodded reluctantly, and reached for the arc pistol at her hip. Almost immediately, he felt a rush of appreciation for her shoot up his spine.
God, I love you, he wanted to say, but didn't. Instead, his smile twitched approvingly.
"I'll see you soon," he promised. Then, he clambered the rest of way into the machine, into the unknown, and he did not hesitate again.
Once fully inside, he straightened, and tried to locate a comfortable position for his body. He watched in idle fascination as the door slowly sealed itself shut, completely separating him from the outside world. The world he fought so desperately for, and was quite ready to die for, if that was what it took. And despite growing up on Arcturus Station and various Alliance space-ships where small living-quarters were the norm, Shepard had always found such small, enclosed spaces uncomfortable. Now, he suddenly remembered why. They inevitably reminded him of all the times he'd been shoved into ships' vents, whirring blades and all, as a boy so he could remove pieces of debris or fix something simple that the ships' engineers couldn't reach themselves. A sudden memory struck him inexplicably, and he remembered how his mother had been so furious when she found out about it, shortly after he accidentally cut himself on a rusty sheet of metal in one such vent. . . .
But I want to help, he had always said, even as a boy, much to his mother's chagrin. He had always been so eager to prove himself . . . Bravery. Compassion. Duty. If he had learned anything from his father, then it was that.
Shepard involuntarily shuddered as he recalled that particular memory.
"Mapping to consensus . . ." informed Legion. "Remain still."
Suddenly and without warning, many small lights flickered on inside of the 'docking port,' and they momentarily blinded Shepard, who swore quietly to himself. As his eyes slowly adjusted, however, he began to look around in an effort to learn what in the hell was happening. He hadn't exactly been told what to expect, after all. Interestingly enough, several beams of light repeatedly bounced from his head to his toes, and it occurred to him then that they must be scanning him. Maybe processing his physical dimensions? His mass, weight, height, and so on? He knew that some medical equipment could perform similar tasks, but this . . . Shepard didn't know about this, and he didn't particularly care.
In the past, he had always liked working with his hands more than he'd ever liked the paperwork of his profession, but the extent of his mechanical ability was rather limited to the calibration, maintenance, and repair of vehicles such as the M29 Grizzly and M35 Mako, though Garrus and Cortez could probably perform those tasks much better than he could anyway. Nonetheless, calibration, maintenance, and repair were all elements of the same kind of work, and it was one that he thoroughly enjoyed doing when he had the time. Lately, though, he'd been too starved for time to even contemplate popping the hood of their shuttle. But it was as comforting as it was simple; just find what's wrong and then fix it. As if life could ever be that easy.
Now, his only problem lay in the fact that he wasn't working on an M35 Mako, or even an old M29 Grizzly. In fact, the geth contrivance he currently found himself in somehow made the Mako seem as outdated and primitive as the prehistoric wheel. And he just didn't know what to do with that information.
He didn't really know what to do, period.
He was just a soldier, for Christ's sake! He wasn't paid to know the how's or the why's of a mission; he was paid for results, to obediently carry out orders and finish the mission to the best of his discretion, which was exactly what he was doing now. Although . . . Tali would know, wouldn't she? She was a technological prodigy, after all; if she didn't know how it all worked, then he didn't know who would. And so, for one singular moment, he almost wished that he could ask her.
"Shepard-Commander," Legion broke in abruptly. "Excess movement during an upload is highly discouraged."
Shepard's frown deepened as Legion's sudden outburst disrupted his rather haphazard stream of thoughts. In all honesty, he was very confused; he just didn't know how he should feel about being uploaded into a goddamn computer.
"Er . . . Copy that."
Shepard replied a little too unevenly, but then devoted himself completely to the task at hand by staying still as Legion had instructed. He wanted to fidget, to scratch the bridge of his nose because it itched, but instead locked his muscles and joints in place despite his body's instinctual warning not to do so under any circumstances. A reaction that was only an inadvertant side effect of the N7 program.
Regardless, he did manage to stop moving his head around, and instead fixed his gaze through the docking port's observation window. He had a faint idea that it would be better if he just focused upon something else, anything else, instead of what was really going on. Both Garrus and Tali were looking at him worriedly, and he soon began to feel like an insect situated under a microscope. A science experiment yet again, and it hardly mattered for whom.
He just wanted them to stop, stop staring, stop worrying, and this realization annoyed him more than it probably should have.
"Great," he muttered to himself through gritted teeth. "Now, I just feel violated again." As he had been by Liara on the SSV Normandy, by Cerberus during the Lazarus Project, by the Council in their denial, and all in the name of progress. He did try to keep this small, rather childish complaint to himself, but Legion evidently heard him anyway.
"Shepard-Commander," chastised the geth, disapprovingly. Or, at least, as disapproving as it could possibly get with a voice that lacked such emotional inflection.
"Right. Sorry."
Shepard didn't sound very sorry at all as he bit out his retort, but he nevertheless resolved to offer no more resistance. He settled down more comfortably and decided to wait for whatever was going to happen, to . . . well, happen.
His eyes began to follow row after row of flickering lights for a time. As annoying as they were, though, he also found them oddly comforting. Consistent. He refused to move his head even the slightest inch now for fear of Legion's reprimands, and, under the circumstances, he was fairly proud of his self-control.
He listened to the dull thrum of the machine as it gradually gained power, and blocked out all other sound. Against his better judgment, he closed his eyes and allowed it to lull him into a false sense of security. . . .
And then, suddenly, he was gone.
I know I said that this chapter would focus upon Garrus, but... I really couldn't resist adding a dash of Nolan. Sorry about that. Garrus will be the star of the next chapter, I promise!
*sigh* I know, I know. "Morrigan Disapproves -50," right?
Acknowledgements:
1. timbryanscott: Let me just say that your review totally made my day, bro! So many positives... and I'm especially glad that you like my version of everything. As I said in the first chapter, my intention here is to develop the Shepard/Tali romance into something more, make it a little more dynamic and interesting as befits my personalized Shepard. In effect, I want this fic to reflect not only BioWare's version of Commander Shepard as he was in-game, but my own fabricated Shepard, too, with all of his faults and failings. That's why it may seem like I'm just taking the core game, and then adding to it. And I reacted pretty much the same way to Gerrel's decision; I didn't understand why Shepard could be so cool with it... except for, of course, Renegade!Shepard's violent approach. Gerrel could have killed them all by firing upon the dreadnought before they escaped. So, I sorta filled in my version about how he'd calmed down enough to accept it. Because, in my mind, Tali softened him up a bit first.
2. chidoriprime : Thanks, man. I'm still glad that you like my version of things so far, and I'm looking forward to reading your BioShock fic. I kinda wish I hadn't killed that one little sister in my playthrough (I just wanted to see what would happen...) so I could've gotten the 'good' ending, too. I had to look all of the endings up on YouTube instead. Bummer.
3. Tattoo'd: Haha! I thought you'd appreciate that part especially, Minion! I don't know much about fluff, but I do know that your reviews always do my ol' heart good.
4. Reaver107: Nah, man. That was just my way of explaining why Shepard strangely seemed so cool with Gerrel's decision. He didn't blow up in Gerrel's face because he had Tali to calm him down beforehand. Much better than that unexplained "Yo, Gerrel, we cool. I know you tried to kill me and my buds just now, but that's all water under the bridge, man." I mean, seriously? I just... I don't even...
5. TW6464: Ha! You just don't have the right teacher, man. That, and then there's the lovely fact that public high schools just suck in general. Mine did, at least. I assume you went to one, too, as they are the most popular form of childhood education. To be fair, though, I've got a D going for me in Calculus right now, so... yeah. I'm not one to talk.
6. MasterHollow: Congratulations on calling me out for that reference, sir/madam! I'll admit that I was heavily inspired by 'The Lord Of The Rings' for the part you mentioned because I happen to be a die-hard fan of Legolas and Gimli's bromance. If you keep reading, you might just catch some other references I have planned as well. I am, as ever, glad that you love my story so far, and hope to see more awesome reviews from you.
7. 00Dunno00: No problem, man. I know everybody needs a little cheering up now and then. Or I know I do, at least. In terms of this fic... well, I'll try to have it live up to your expectations. No promises, of course.
8. treehuger90: W-what? Running out of compliments? No, no, no. I always find myself looking forward to your kindly reviews, my friend. Please, keep them coming! On another note, 'To Build A Home' will follow one of BioWare's canon endings, though I have... tweaked it a bit in a way that's made it a little more interesting. Please, see my fic 'I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream' for details. If you keep giving me such awesome reviews, however, I will be sure to write the AU fic I mentioned, which I have dubbed 'Happily-Ever-After Compliant'. Hopefully, the fluff in that should balance out the angst I have planned here and in other fics I have written, which I've gotten 'pulled over' by the so-called 'happiness police' for. No joke. Ahem. Anyway, 'To Build A Home' is sorta my... therapy for the actual endings, and I'm writing it this way so I can accept them, I guess. I preordered the Limited Edition of Mass Effect 3, and I began brain-storming this story almost immediately after I beat it for the first time because I was so heavily disappointed. I don't think I even bothered to finish my playthrough as FemShep either. Lol.
9. Vocarin: Wow... Thank you for your lengthy and overwhelmingly positive review, my friend! I'm glad that you like my take on things thus far, and I hope that this continues to be the case. I'll certainly try to have the rest of 'To Build A Home' live up to everyone's expectations. I know my writing tends to be a bit more "flowery" as some would say, but that is only because I wanted to add more well-written stories to this awesome website. Nothing irks me more than those fics that certainly don't lack in imagination, but certainly do in the areas of grammar and spelling. In my honest opinion, nothing ruins a good fic more than that. A handful of errors in any story is understandable and forgiveable, but when there are recurring and even simplistic errors, then I can't help but stop reading so I can find a better story to read. Anyway, onto addressing your more pressing concerns. I'm sorry about the last chapter, but I did want to keep my fic fairly consistent with the game as you said. And as for Garrus... well, I hope this next chapter more than makes up for his being too passive in the last few chapters. Overall, I suppose that this next chapter will be my sorry attempt at trying to make up for these little hiccups you mentioned and I sincerely hope they don't deter you from the rest of the story.
10. Anonymous Reviewer 10/18/12: Ah, seems to me that you must be a fan of Renegade!Shep then. I'll admit that I never liked Renegade Shepard much beyond the lovely fact that s/he is a jerk to nearly EVERYONE. I only played through the Mass Effect series as a Renegade once, and that was more or less for amusement as you can probably tell by my Renegade's name... 'German'. Heh. As for me, and my Shepard in a way, I tend to be a more diplomatic person, more closely aligned to being a Paragon than a Renegade, and I think this fic should reflect that. In my honest opinion, the ends should never justify the means... which, of course, is a philosophy reminiscent of utilitarianism and of Cerberus. Tyranny of the majority, and all that. To quote a Reaper, please, "observe the results." And... do you really want me to kill off Tali?
11. Xerox98: Erm... don't do drugs, kids! And that's all I have to say about that. But, seriously, thank you.
12. fantasyra: Thank you! Well done, yourself.
13. Redstoneguy: I know, right!? Stupid AIs... You'd think James would be able to handle a beating like a tank, but of course not. Awww... I liked Jenkins. He was so excitable, it was rather adorable.
14. Anonymous Reviewer 2/17/13: 'F' for 'fantastic,' right? Or... 'flippin' insanely awesome terrific wonderful,' at least?