9: Father Time
Paper was almost never used for communication anymore. It was inefficient when everyone carried an omni-tool, and easily lost in transit. Apart from the lack of security and extra travel time documents written on paper had, there were plenty of other reasons not to send messages on paper.
They could be scribbled-on until the original text was nigh-indecipherable.
They could be crumpled into a ball, leaving them easily mistaken for garbage.
They could be torn and shredded into particles that would be difficult to reassemble without a significant amount of dedicated time and effort.
They could be burned to a crisp, allowing others to watch as whatever message was written literally went up in flames.
"That damned condescending, ignorant bosh'tet!"
It was for precisely those reasons that Tali'Zorah wished that her most recent message had been received on paper.
To: Tali'Zorah vas Neema
Re: Cyniad Recovery
On behalf of the Admiralty Board, I would like to extend my thanks to you for recovering Lieutenant Liet'Forzan vas Idenna from the wreckage of the Cyniad. It is regrettable that you couldn't have arrived soon enough to save any other members of the Cyniad's illustrious crew, and that you didn't take the time to recover the valuable technologies that Admiral Xen had outfitted the ship with, but we all understand the importance of your mission with the primate, Shepard. Nonetheless, the safe return of Forzan, one of our fleet's true heroes, will be invaluable in our search for a new homeworld.
Forzan's debriefing before the Admiralty, however, brought forth some concerns. Admiral Koris would like me to remind you that the security of the quarian fleet should supercede any other commitments you may think you have, especially when dealing with Cerberus and an AI.
I don't need to remind you what the consequences would be if you ignored this warning.
Nevertheless, Admiral Xen would like to know if you had any valuable intel on the organization or this "Enhanced Defense Intelligence" that we could use in the future. It would be a shame if you didn't after your extended time away from the fleet. The Admiralty wishes a quick and successful end to your mission with the humans.
Keelah se'lai,
Sanir'Tovo vas Quib Quib, Fleet Security
She shut off her omni-tool and stormed into the crew quarters. Fortunately for her, she had a pillow to take out her frustrations on.
Unfortunately, said pillow was occupied.
"Whoa, Tali," Kasumi yelped, her cloak deactivating as she jumped away from the punch. "When did punching the invisible girl become a game?"
The quarian jumped, surprised by her appearance for the first time in nearly a month. "Keelah! I didn't see you there, Kasumi. I didn't hit you, did I?"
"Nah, missed by that much. Don't worry, hon- no harm, no foul." She waved one of her arms as the engineer let out a breath of relief. "So what did the pillow do that bothered you so much?"
"No, it's not the pillow. I mean it didn-" She looked up, noticing that the human was grinning. Of course it's a joke, she thought with a shake of her head. "Ha-ha, Kasumi. It was just a message from a bosh'tet back in the fleet."
"I take it there's some history there."
He blocks her path back to the drive core. "You've got a new assignment. The shuttle leaves in two hours."
"Wha-" She cuts herself off, trying not to appear as flustered. "Alright. I'll just ask Kal to get-"
"No. You're not going with your normal squad, apart from Quala. I trust a hero such as yourself will be fine leading Prazza's group."
"But he's from internal security, not the Marines. He isn't trained for combat outside the fleet."
He glares at her. "He'll respond to authority, so long as it's earned. I daresay your leadership skills should be up for it. After all, you are the daughter of the great Rael'Zorah and Laenya'Tirai."
"Shut your mouth, Tovo!" she roared back.
"Say what you like, fleet-sister, but don't you dare lie to me about your wasted potential. You needed a human to find your pilgrimage gift. You needed your father's influence to even gain command of a squad. You could be leading our people against the geth, but still you waste time tinkering aboard Gerrel's ship and crying for your dead captain. Tell me, are you really helping us?"
Tali shook her head, attempting to cast off the memory of the man. "Let's just say I'm glad he transferred to a different ship."
Kasumi raised an eyebrow. "So, on a scale of one to pissed..."
"Worse than Jack when someone mentions the Illusive Man."
"Wow, that guy sounds like a real pain."
Tali grunted an affirmative. "I'd rather talk about something else right now, though."
"Like what?"
Those blue eyes.
His playful smirk.
Those powerful musc- No! I'm not going there right now. The quarian searched for something else to focus on before her head could overflow with... inconvenient thoughts.
Guilty thoughts.
She was distracted when a hand fell on her shoulder. Tali looked up, seeing a slight smile on Kasumi's face. "Why don't we continue that story?"
The quarian couldn't help but grin back. "I'd like that."
Now, the sixth town that Draam led them through was a place called-
Tali, the beach. I know for a fact you said they only went through four towns on the way last time.
Are you sure it wasn't-
I'm sure.
Fine...
The group reached the water's edge three nights after their departure from Moreh, just in time to see the last edge of the sun dip into the waves. Tikkun's light cast an astounding array of colors across the sky, the likes of which would leave you breathless. And if that didn't, the sight of its perfect reflection on the water's surface definitely woul-
We both know what a sunset looks like, Tali.
Quarian. Dark visors. Ninety-five percent of our lives are spent on the Fleet.
Sorry, shutting up now.
*Ahem*
The only blemish on the beautiful scene was a dark wooden vessel, right by the water's edge. People milled about the surface of the ship, busily preparing it for departure. A single quarian walked up to the approaching party.
"Ah, Master Gurta," he said with a mild bow. "Sil'Reino vas Qunu. My crew is almost ready to cast off. We're just loading some additional supplies for the journey."
"Belay that," Draam cut in, earning a frown from the newcomer. "My crew will need to depart immediately in order to make it on time."
"Sir, these are fishermen, not naval warriors. They will need additional food stores in order to keep morale up for a journey like this one."
"Then let them fish. Finding food shouldn't be a problem for them, but if we don't reach the waters in time-"
"It's a myth, Gurta," Sil retorted. "Legends and poems are going to get us nowhere."
At this point, Tas's curiosity peaked. "What do you mean by that?"
The seafarer exhaled in irritation. "Are you aware that the stars have stories behind them?"
"Of course," the navigator replied, pointing to a cluster of stars behind them. "Willan, the first farmer." He pointed to another group. "Raazac's arrow, which always flew to true north. And, of course, Atmi's jeweled veil," he finished, gesturing at a wide expanse of stars and colors that shone with a purple light before the dying sun.
Don't you mean the Perse-
*Shush!*
The sailor bristled with surprise. "I wouldn't expect one of the landlocked ones to share the passion."
"The bosh'tet does a lot of things that don't make sense," Alarei muttered.
"Come on," Draam cut in, waving his hands to get them moving again. "We're wasting moonlight."
Tas fell into step alongside Sil as they boarded the Qunu. "What legend were you referring to, about the stars?"
The fisherman directed the navigator's gaze toward a cluster of stars he didn't recognize. "Yevi, the Mother." He shifted his arm, pointing toward a group of nine stars, perfectly arrayed in an eight-pointed cross. "And Eloam, the marker. In this time of year, Eloam would be situated right over a settlement with a trading post.
"The legend says that a survivor washed ashore, starving and injured, several days after the cataclysm. The survivor died shortly after, but not before reciting a poem." He turned to the navigator, fixing him with a pensive look. "I hope you're up to the task. None of these men have ever been more than a day's voyage from shore."
"I'd like to hear it," Tas said, ignoring the jab at his capabilities.
Sil shrugged. "Sure. It's not like we have any real leads to go on..."
Catastrophe, for which none could plan
The people panic as the skies darken. Able to do naught but cower, they burn
They could not evade the coming wrath
I did escape, losing all I held, but sorrows will fade. Some day I must return
In blazing moon's fury I must stand
Beneath the cross where rock once stood, where furious boiling waters turn blades to rust,
Mother's faint tears will right my path
After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust,
I will return to where I began
Innteressting...
What?
Does it rhyme in Khelish?
Um, yes... Why did you ask?
Because it did in English, too.
Really?
Yep, it was even metered and everything.
*Pfft* Now I know you're just -what's the expression- pulling my leg?
Correct on the expression, but I'm telling you the truth.
Right, and Jacob looks like a monster.
Hey!
My point exactly.
"Any reason why you're only bringing Jacob?"
Shepard spared Glass a quick glance as the pilot opened the doors on the kodiak. "EDI didn't detect any hostile animal life and the beacon's been inactive for a decade. My guess is any survivors have either gone native or died out long ago, since their rations can't have lasted this long. It's a rescue mission on paper, but I wouldn't be surprised if this ends up being just like the Estevanico."
Jacob shook his head and stepped out onto the planet's surface. "I'd hope not. Diving off a cliff with a dead ship doesn't appeal to me."
"You never know, doing it twice could be something that's on Shepard's new bucket list."
The commander felt the grin that had appeared at Jacob's words slide off his face as the pilot closed the door.
Jacob drew his attention away from the Glass's bad joke, motioning toward their target. The Hugo Gernsback's wreckage looked downright pitiful; even a quarian would have torn it apart for its scrap metal. Even so, its basic shape was easily recognizable: the profile of a human shipping vessel, roughly 300 meters of its hull retaining the original shape. "There it is... and still mostly intact. They could have survived, but it's been... years."
"I have run a scan of the ship," EDI chimed over their comms. "I detect no life signs, but there may be useful technology or information still inside."
Shepard walked up beside the operative, noticing that there were several crates laid out in piles next to the ship. He quickly pointed them out to the man. "Looks like it was stripped after the crash."
"Yeah..." he mumbled in response, his eyes misty. "They'd have tried to get a beacon up as soon as possible." Upon hearing his own words, Jacob shook himself out of his trance and began to walk toward the wreck. "We should get moving, Commander."
"Are you sure you're okay with this? We could still call down Grunt or Samara if you'd like."
"No. I don't want the others to be worried about me. Besides, we should be able to handle anything this planet throws at us."
"And if we find your father?"
Jacob marched on in silence for a few steps, carefully stepping around some loose rocks. "I buried the man ten years ago. Worst case scenario, nothing changes about that."
An electronic voice could barely be heard, coming from near the crashed vessel. "...incompatible with human physiology. Override: beacon resumed. Pause time: eight years, 237 days, seven hours, under authority of Acting Captain Ronald Taylor. Repeat: toxology alert..."
"What the hell?"
So now that that's settled, can we continue?
That has to be the weirdest coincidence I've ever-
You're stalling.
...
Right.
They set off that night, gliding across the moonlit waters in the Qunu. Several weeks passed, the voyage taking them far from the lands they knew. Everyone was assigned tasks once on-board, including the guards who had escorted Draam's "guests" from Moreh. Tas, and Draam did their best to work out schedules for all, so there wouldn't be issues from boredom out on the empty waves.
Like cabin fever?
*Yipe!*
Er... They didn't- Um, I mean- It wouldn't exactly... There wasn't enough space to... There'd be no privacy... And our immune systems weren't... They were stronger back then, so... We didn't get sick. And- It's not like there was someone who would- With him, I mean...
Oh, Keelah...
Oh, no-no-no-no-no! I didn't mean like that. Just forget I said anything.
...
...
...
I'll try to do that.
But there were too many hands, too many mouths to feed. The food stores began to run dangerously low, putting more and more stress on the underfed crew. Nearly everyone found what little spare time they had being replaced by fishing duties. But no matter how many lines were being cast, there never seemed to be enough catches to feed the entire crew.
Sounds like Draam made a bad call.
Yes, and many of the men resented him for it. Draam didn't let it stop him, though- He toiled with Tas to keep the ship on course, rarely taking breaks for himself save for sleep.
But early one night, Tas found him up long after the leader's shift had ended. The man was standing at the ship's stern, his head angled skyward as the ship pitched and rolled with the waves.
"I wasn't expecting to see you taking a break, Draam," the Neeman said, taking a spot at the railing next to him.
"Neither was I," came the response. "Sleep hasn't been coming as easily as I'd have liked."
"Seasickness?"
"No." He looked away from the stars, quietly regarding the other quarian. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"You still believe that we can find Rannoch. I know the looks the others give me when they think I'm not looking. Firn, he's starting to fall in with Sil and the other crew."
Tas nodded. "I know. He only came along for his brother's sake, no more and no less."
Draam listened for a while longer, expecting more from the navigator. When it became apparent that more on the subject wasn't forthcoming, he spoke again. "And what about Alarei?"
"I'm surprised you would ask about her motivation," Tas chuckled. "She's dedicated to protecting her king and his people is all. She would do anything for them. Still... She's beginning to lose faith that we'll find a way to save Neema."
"'Saving Neema', not 'finding Rannoch'?"
"The Walled Garden was only an option to her, and a long shot at that. She would rather fight for our survival- Not that I'd expect that to work in the long run."
"No," Draam conceded, "It wouldn't work for us either."
"What do you mean?"
The Idennan slouched against the railing, his head on his arms. "War won't solve the issues that this Famine has dumped on Idenna."
"Funny, I was under the impression that you would do anything to keep your crops alive, up to and including executing anyone who disagreed."
He shook his head. "That is Murin's doctrine, one that's barely softened the impact. As for me, I've grown tired of dining on the blood of my people."
Tas fell into a quiet rumination at his words. His own gaze drifted to the stars overhead as the minutes stretched onward.
"I believe it because it's the only chance for both of our people."
Draam nodded. "On that point, we can agree. But that's an excuse, not an answer."
"In blazing moon's fury I must stand," Tas recited. "Beneath the cross where rock once stood, where furious boiling waters turn blades to rust / Mother's faint tears will right my path." He turned toward the Idennan and pointed toward a cluster of stars almost directly overhead. "Eloam is almost directly overhead now, and there's an eclipse that's supposed to occur within the week. I'd bet anything that's what the 'blazing moon' refers to." He lowered his arm, turning back to Draam. "If anything, we're closer to rediscovering Rannoch than anyone's ever-"
"Get them!"
The two found themselves buried under a tangle of bodies, stripped of their weapons by a surprise attack. Tas was easily overwhelmed, and found himself bound in place by a pair of crew members. They held him so he could see Draam, who was valiantly struggling in the grip of a quartet of others. As he looked on, two more ganged up on the Idennan, beating him into submission with a flurry of kicks and punches.
"That's enough." The two prisoners were turned to face another crewman. "Killing him won't do us any favors when we return home."
Draam coughed blood onto the deck in front of him. "Mutiny, Sil? You're going to doom us all!"
"No," the sailor replied, "I'm saving my crew from this lost cause of a voyage. Your leadership has us starving and is bound to lead to our demise. I won't let this continue."
"Damn it, Sil! If you can't listen to me, then at least listen to Tas. He was just saying we're closer than anyone else has come in centuries."
"To finding out that Rannoch doesn't exist," he snapped back bitterly. "We're going to die on this quest, can't you see it?"
"And our people back home will die if we don't find it."
"Not when we conquer Neema. The Lord will attack, regardless of what happens from chasing this myth. If he wants to sacrifice some unfortunate souls for no reason, then I won't let those be my people he wastes."
"And what are you going to tell them when you get back?" Tas piped up. "He won't let you go free for derailing the mission."
"Tell me, Tas, how far are we from the Walled Garden?"
The navigator didn't have an answer.
"And how far from coastal Idenna?"
"About 3700 wevat," he muttered.
Ahem.
Carry that, round it... Roughly 4300 kilometers.
Thank you.
Sil continued speaking. "You see, we've barely made it that far. Anyone who you tell that number to will be underprepared. He'll get a location, but it won't be Rannoch's. So long as it's far enough away, he'll just assume the disappearances will be from people abandoning Idenna to its fate."
"Like you are?" Draam spat.
"That's enough!"
A flurry of movement caught the mutineers' eyes, as a figure crashed into the group holding Draam in place. The deck gave way to chaos as the newcomer brawled, obscuring Draam from Tas's vision. A series of yelps sounded, prompting him to wrestle against his own captors. Sil was on him in an instant, however, punching him in the gut to stop his struggling. When he caught his breath, however, he found that the other crew members had backed away from Draam and the assailant.
"Thanks for the help, Alarei," the Idennan said, brandishing his recovered cutlass.
"Do you really think I was doing it to save you?" she asked, her own sword drawn and pointed toward the quarians holding on to Tas. "I did it to stop these idiots from doing something to that one."
"Then why bother rescuing me first?"
"He's quite useless in combat. Wouldn't be able to fight his way out after this part if I went for him."
Tas noticed that Sil held a knife to his throat, threatening to spill the blood of the one person who could lead them all back to shore. He began to chuckle at the absurdity of the situation; Alarei had foregone a straight fight in favor of a hostage situation, just because he might not have lived otherwise.
The sailor was not amused.
"Shut up!" he snarled, giving the defenseless navigator another blow to the stomach.
Alarei shifted her stance, a low growl coming from the warrior as her eyes narrowed.
"Step away from the bosh'tet."
"That's the best you can do?"
The two men ignore my excuses. I demand to know who the outspoken one was. The stranger looks as mad as the hunters. He could undo everything if he-
"Taylor. Lieutenant Jacob Taylor."
Son?
I leave the boy with his mother. Anger. Regret. The letters cease soon after the voyage started. I'm not surprised. There's no need to seek him out. No reason to revive the past.
"Until you needed someone to save your ass."
An electrical failure. Drive core offline. We must have hit something. Asteroid, maybe? Captain Fairchild is gone. What the hell do I do? I'm no leader!
"What about your crew, 'Acting Captain'?"
Fear.
Crash landing. Other officers survived, thank God. Can't eat the plants here, degenerates the mind. No, only the officers should use the rations. The women start to worship me and the officers. "We just want to go home."
"What was that moment? I want to know there was an actual reason!"
Regret.
The non-officers become impatient. They don't understand rank anymore. Only examples. Only force. But they forget, far too often. We need dominance. We found Gray on top of Beth. Poor girl. She screams as we pull her away from him. Anders consoles her. She doesn't remember. We could use this.
"That's it? You created a harem and played king? Ten years in a juvenile fantasy!"
The men abandon us. Not like the droolers were helping, anyway. The beacon's fixed, finally. They return, completely native. Where did they get the guns? We can't let the Alliance know now.
"And if you treat them like animals -big shock- they become animals."
Desperation.
Anders becomes outspoken, says we should activate the beacon anyway. No, they'll imprison us all. I grab the pistol. The other officers watch as he falls. Gray laughs, wants to take the women for himself. Can't allow that anymore. I grab the mech controls. Nobody can find out, but that doesn't mean I can't keep the crew comfortable.
He won't take them!
"You fought over people like they were toys. Things!"
The last box of rations. Enough for a few weeks, at most. Almost nine years since Gray and Anders... left. To join them or not? Maybe the rations will run out before help comes.
Yeah...
They'll think I was a victim as well. The beacon activates without a problem. I only have to wait.
"It's all about you. Everything!"
Offworlders! Damn, they got here too soon. I spin my tale. They can't find out. They won't find out. I compliment them, offer to get them a drink. The man in black and white. His anger... looks familiar.
...Son...
"I don't know who you are, because you're not any father I remember."
The man hands me a pistol, almost overheated. Why isn't the heat venting? I can't defend myself with this!
"It's not for them, Dad."
No...
The hunters are moving toward me. The other man holds them back, but I see the fury in their eyes.
The hate.
NO!
I fire at the hunters. I can wait. Another ship will come. Another chance to escape. They'll believe me! I fire again.
Pain.
Horrible pain.
My feet leave the ground. Purple lances across my body. What the hell? The other man glows, the same energy. Jacob shakes his head.
So tired.
"My father owned his mistakes. He was a different man. A good man."
Guilt.
Failure.
Disgrace.
...
Disgrace...
I try to speak. I can't hear if the words are coming out or not. But I have to.
"I'm... sorry... Ja-"
Shepard felt a shiver run down his spine as the Reave ended, a thump announcing the late Ronald Taylor's return to the ground. He fought the urge to vomit in disgust, both from the act of destroying the man in such a way and from the man's dying thoughts. He willed himself to focus on Jacob and the remaining male members of the Hugo Gernsback's crew. "Did he hit any of them?"
"No," the Cerberus operative replied, turning to the others. To Shepard's surprise, they submitted, lowering their weapons and cautiously approaching the two new soldiers. "You did the right thing, Commander. These people have lived in this hell for far too long."
The dead man's memories continued to run through John's mind, filling him with unease as his ally radioed for pickup.
"Did I?"
"Make me."
Alarei's response was instantaneous, her blade passing through Sil's ankle faster than Tas's eyes could track. The mutineer leapt away from his prisoner, shock and pain from losing his foot overriding his will to keep control of his hostage. She pointed her sword at the two men who were still holding on to the navigator's arms. "I'll say this one more time: Step away from the bosh'tet."
They complied immediately, backing away from him with their arms raised. She spared a look at Tas, her eyes lingering where he had been struck.
Something about the way she looked at him made the man smile. "I'm alright. I've gotten worse injuries than that from sparring."
"Good to know," she muttered, her facade melting into a look of indifference. She turned to face Sil's supporters. "This ship is continuing on to find Rannoch. With Draam and the bosh'tet leading. Does anyone here have a problem with that?"
Apart from the sounds of waves crashing into the vessel and the soft whimpers from the recently-mutilated mutineer, the deck was silent.
"Good. Now GET YOUR BLOODY ASSES BACK TO YOUR STATIONS!"
The crewmen scrambled away from the scene, eager to put as much distance between them and the Neeman warrior as possible. Alarei gave an impassive expression as she helped Tas to his feet. "You owe me one for that," she said.
"What about the battle on the hill?"
"Fine, one-half. The prince over there owes me seven though."
Draam's eyes widened "What?!"
"That's how many people I had to punch before you finally got your wits about you." She shrugged as the Idennan continued to fume. "Don't worry, I'll keep the others in check in the meantime. You should probably get rid of him though."
Sil's cries ceased as he gripped the bloody stump of his leg. "No, you wouldn't- I can't- It's not- NO!"
Draam picked up a dagger off the ground, its pristine white handle gleaming before his hands clasped around it. "I was wondering who had stolen my other blade," he mused.
"The others- They wouldn't listen. I needed to- Just don't do it!"
The man descended to his level, the blade coming dangerously close to the wounded sailor. Sil began to back away, scuttling into the railing on his back and his hands. "Please, Draam. I did it for them. I couldn't see them die. Not like this."
The knife hovered over Sil's heart, his breaths shortening to keep himself from touching the blade's tip. "Not like this..."
Draam bent low to the other quarian, keeping the threat of his dagger's touch over Sil. "Murin would have me kill you without a second thought. Either run you through with this blade right here, or take you back to Moreh where your blood can sustain our crops."
The cornered man froze, his eyes fixed on the dagger.
"But I am not him. This is not his kingdom, but a ship. For the time being, my ship. You just tried to overthrow and possibly kill me, and threatened the life of the only person aboard who could grant us a safe journey, whether it was for the mission or to return home."
Sil didn't speak.
"However, you did it with the livelihood of the crew in mind. You wanted to save them from what you believed was certain death. Even if it was at the hands of the ship's captain."
The wounded man held his breath, turning to look into Draam's eyes.
"For that, I'll let you live."
Tas stared on in surprise as the Idennan stood up, turning away from Sil's pitiful form as he sheathed the knife in a black scabbard on his hip. Draam quickly walked back to his quarters, offering only a short order before leaving.
"Patch him up and set him in the lookout perch. I don't want him coming down until we reach the shore."
"Crow's nest."
Tali looked over at Kasumi, sure that her translator had glitched. "Sorry?"
"The lookout station on an old-style sea vessel, humans call it a crow's nest."
The quarian shook her head softly. "And here, I thought you were going to stop criticizing the story."
"Well, now that you mention it..."
She shot the human a half-serious glare. Really?
"Nothing about 'convenient plot devices' this time. Just something I wanted to ask you."
Tali let out a quick laugh. "Okay, okay. I have to go back to work soon, though. Gabby and Ken will probably need my help by now."
"You and your work habits... Still, not quite the 'quarian thing' I wanted to ask about."
The engineer jumped. She scrambled to get up from her seat on the bed, but the human kept a firm grip on her arm. "I should-"
"I talked to Liet, the quarian you rescued on Gei Hinnon."
She froze in place, her suit feeling as if she'd been dropped back on Noveria. "You didn't... If she knew-"
"I didn't drop your name, Tali." Kasumi's voice softened, a comforting grin spreading. "Believe me, I would never do that. I told her that Grunt had once gone into a blood rage and attacked Shep."
"So... she doesn't know that I..."
"No." The human frowned, concern in her eyes. "But she did tell me that the Fleet would think about it."
Tali's lip trembled, her breath hitching in her throat.
"She said they would see an act like that as mutiny, possibly even treason."
The quarian's lips moved on their own accord, whispering the words that had haunted her for weeks.
"A crime punishable by death."
The human didn't nod, but her expression told Tali that she had been told the same by Liet'Forzan. The thief's next few words tumbled out slowly, cautiously. "But... what about Sil? If anything, he... deserved... worse than you. And Draam let him go."
She shuddered, her voice barely masking sobs that threatened to overwhelm her. "He was still useful. Sil could help the crew."
"That's a lie and you know it."
The blunt reply caught her off-guard, causing her to straighten up.
"Draam spared Sil because he had the crew's best interests in mind." When the quarian remained silent, Kasumi continued. "Even if he was misguided, he was still trying to help. Draam respected that, so he let him live."
The quarian found her voice. "But... this is different."
"No. You were fighting to save yourself and your friend from certain death. Plus, you couldn't have known it was him. Besides." The human leaned in closer. "Liet told me that a ship's captain is still viewed as the highest authority on his own vessel."
"Yes, but I don't see how-"
"Shepard forgave you, Tali."
"No, he-"
"Shepard, your captain, forgave you."
"But he's not!" she sniffled, a fresh bout of sobs overpowering her. "I'm crew of the Neema."
"What is the name of the ship we're on?"
She paused. "The Normandy."
"Who is the chief engineer of the Normandy?"
"I... I am."
"And who is the captain of the Normandy?"
"Sh... John Shepard."
"Exactly, Tali. Your captain already passed judgement. He didn't think you needed to be punished, Tali. Technicality or not, you've already been proven innocent."
"I..."
"Let it go, Tali."
"But he was-"
"Let it go, Tali."
"But it-"
"He already forgave you. You just need to let yourself see it."
She's pulled closer into his embrace. A thousand feelings rush through her as her own arms entwine around him. "It's okay, Tali. I'm just glad you're okay."
The scene cuts away, her arms enclosing nothing but air. A blade has found its way into her hand, its surface covered with a red fluid. A flanging voice yells out at her. "Tali, what the FUCK did you do?"
Words failed the woman. She collapsed on her friend, pulling her into a tight embrace as she wept. "But what if I can't? Keelah, I want to, but I can't."
"You need to let it go."
"I..." She took a deep breath, willing the cries to stop. Even so, a thin line of silver was still visible through the visor. "I understand what you're saying. Thank you."
Tali slowly stood up, but the human still clung to her hand. A pleading look adorned the thief's face.
The engineer looked down, willing herself to relax enough to say what she needed to.
"I'll try."
Kasumi nodded and let her go.
"What do you mean, it wasn't you?"
"Jacob, if I had leaked the information about the Gernsback, I would be smiling at your resolution of the situation.
"I am not smiling."
Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose as Shepard rushed into the communications room, too fixed on Jacob and the quantum entanglement array to notice her presence. The man added his own voice to the argument as she tried to don her usual mask of aloofness.
Unfortunately, her thoughts kept returning to her sister.
Damn it! They still won't be ready for another week. I'll need to stall him, maybe he won't even think I- She cut herself off; the Illusive Man would hardly fall for such a weak alibi, let alone if Kai Leng was lurking nearby. No, there has to be a better way. "Loyal", the file called me. Perhaps... perhaps I won't have to lie after all.
"Fine, you didn't forward it. So who did?"
It was a long shot, but a better plan than trying to lie to her boss. She stepped forward, making sure to hold her head high. "I did."
Jacob visibly bristled at her sudden entrance, while her commander managed to contain his surprise to his eyes. The Illusive Man's electric eyes, however, didn't widen like Shepard's. On the contrary, they had become slits.
Predatory slits.
She stood up to his gaze as the surprised operative next to her began to recover. "Where... How did you find out?"
"It was hardly classified, just obscure," she truthfully reported, remembering the cipher she had used to decode the data. Miranda turned away from the Cerberus leader's deadly gaze to directly address Jacob. "There was a time when this mattered to you. Sending this along seemed like keeping an old promise. I keep my promises."
"Miranda," the Illusive Man growled, "We'll discuss your liberal interpretation of security protocol in private. Shepard, Jacob."
Miranda's face lost its professional appearance for but a moment. She snuck Jacob the slightest of grins before he stepped away from the QEC.
I'm sorry... for everything.
She couldn't tell if he had understood before the other two vanished from sight. The woman squared her stance, facing down the man like a defiant criminal before the firing squad. She radiated courage, determination, and strength.
On the inside, however, Miranda was as scared as she had been during their first meeting.
The Pupil quietly stepped into the darkened room, carefully tiptoeing toward the figure at the opposite end. A cloud of smoke lingered around his head, a product of the lit shaft in his hand. He exhaled, adding to the smoky halo above him. "Henry would not be pleased to find you here."
She blinked in surprise. "How did you-"
"Know? Your shadow betrayed you. Though it was a skillful entrance." The man turned to face her, his eyes burning with an unearthly blue light. "I'll assume from the fact you came unarmed that you're not here to attack me."
The Pupil nodded slightly, unable to break his gaze. Though extremely talented, something about the man told her that she was no longer the predator in the room. He waited, the silence pressing down on her worse than any interrogation at her father's hands, whether deserved or not; he was a gigantic piston, slowly crushing her within an old-style combustion engine. "I... need your help."
"Why."
She shivered at the bluntness of the word. It wasn't a question. An order, or a statement of what was to come, perhaps, but not a mere query.
"I need to leave this place, as soon as possible. With a package."
He snubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, though neither of the two looked away. A hint of amusement passed through those blues, a spark in the cybernetics.
"You surely can't expect him to accept that both of his daughters have simply vanished at the same time." He continued, ignoring the Pupil's barely-disguised gasp of surprise. "Even if he decided not to pursue his latest failed experiment, he would not ignore Oriana's potential. He would give anything to either of you as-is so long as you followed his orders, but that would change if he was forced to track either of you down. I say again: why."
"Because... neither of us are free."
"So escape is your answer?" he scoffed. "Flee a prison of luxury to become a slave of necessity? Doom your sister to the life of a fugitive, always running from Henry's self-declared empire and its rapidly-expanding grasp?"
"No."
Silence wrapped itself around them, threatening to choke the Pupil due to the tension. Still, she did not dare to even blink, lest the man stole her face or some other feat beyond the expectations of a mere human.
She wouldn't put it past him.
"No?" he voiced, clearly a question this time.
"No. My answer is to give her a new life. One where she would be free to make her own choices, protected from him for as long as they both should live."
He nodded, a slight move that almost went unnoticed by the Pupil. "A noble cause. But you still have not told me the most important thing."
"Which is?"
The man took a step closer, regarding her with an assessing eye. "Henry Lawson contributes greatly to my organization. His resources and developments have made him reliable, and reliability is good for business. I have no reason to alienate him now, at your request. So I say again. Why."
She took a deep breath. "Because doing so would earn you something better than reliability."
"Reliability is difficult to replace. What would prove to be stronger than that?"
"Loyalty," she responded, a firm nod punctuating her certainty. "For as long as you desire it. You've only seen some of what I can offer for your organization. Intellect, logistics, combat-readiness, biotics. My father trained me well."
"And how do I know you wouldn't try the same against me? That you won't abandon me like you would Henry?"
She found herself unable to hold back the blink, though she was still intact when her eyes fixed once more on his. "I... am a slave, and always have been. I can change nothing about that, but Ori shouldn't have the same fate."
"So you would follow my orders, even orders to kill?"
The Pupil stopped to consider the question. True, she could kill for him, but did she want to make the conscious decision to execute others on demand? No matter what?
"Killing for orders typically creates one of two things: addiction or depression. Would you risk a valuable asset's mental status like that?"
He laughed. Laughed. "But if an objective required you to kill? For the good of a cause?"
She nodded. "I would be obligated to defend myself, and to remove any threats to humanity's greatest hope."
The Illusive Man finally broke his hold on her eyes. He made his way to the door, a titan ignoring the sole mortal in the room. "We'll be in touch."
He knew she was afraid.
She hid the signs well. Her father's training had been excellent, for its time. To the Illusive Man, however, "subtle" stood out like a fireworks display. The minor twitch in her lips, the eyelids that shifted by a fraction of a millimeter, the slight hesitation before she laid her hands at her side... Of course, she had gotten better at hiding the cues since their first meeting.
But better wasn't the same as perfection.
"You opened Rawlings' data cache."
She inclined her head by a small margin, not taking her eyes off of his. "Yes."
No denial. No unasked excuses. "Explain."
"I forwarded the files directly to your office via the link set up through EDI. Approximately two standard hours later, I received a reply that was not written in your hand and implied that the sender did not have the means to access the data. I became suspicious, and decided to verify the difficulty using my own clearance. The data was able to be decrypted using only gamma-two level clearance, bringing me to two possible conclusions: the sender was either explicitly lying about the difficulty, or was not from Cerberus.
"I took the initiative to review the data myself, in case the latter proved true. In this case, I would be able to disclose the full contents via QEC at your request, should the message prove to be a forgery."
Completely level. No obvious signs of lying yet. Still... "And you didn't think to warn me about this possible security breach?"
A minor lag in communications to be expected when conversing with someone several thousand light-years away; the buoy network that serviced the galaxy simply couldn't transmit the data fast enough to avoid a delay of at least a quarter-second between clusters. The QEC system linking the Normandy to Chronos Station, however, should have been capable of instantaneous transmission. To the unwary, the half-second delay before hearing Miranda's response would have been nothing to bother with.
But the Illusive Man was far from unwary.
"I trusted that you would have contacted me if you hadn't received the data."
His eyes closed. Air pooled in through his nostrils before being expelled in a quiet rush. He opened them again, focusing on his second-best operative.
"You were correct on that count, but that sort of behavior can't be tolerated. Consider this your only warning, Lawson."
The woman visibly bristled, the weight of his words striking her across the face from half a galaxy away. "Understood," she said, regaining her composure. "It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't," he said, terminating the connection with a frown. He refilled his own glass of whiskey for once, neglecting the servants that usually performed the task for him. He swirled the amber liquid within the tumbler, watching the waves spin across the surface.
What did I expect? Even Saren defied the reapers in the end.
"That was... lenient of you."
He didn't look up at the sound of Kai Leng's voice, toning gruffly. "Her services have earned her that much. It would also be difficult to replace her."
Leng's grudging silence told him exactly how the assassin felt on that subject. The Illusive Man elected against verbally chewing him out for it, allowing the stern look he shot him to speak instead. You know I meant "on the Normandy". Now stand the hell down.
The man's shoulders lowered themselves by a minuscule amount, the only outward sign of his acquiescence. The Illusive Man's gaze returned to the glass. His eyes slipping out of focus as his mind wandered, as if hypnotized by the fluid.
"She is lying."
"Yes and no," came his cryptic response. He took a sip of the beverage, savoring the burn in the back of his throat. "She never stated anything that was completely untrue. But she was shaken. Miranda felt she was doing the right thing by opening the file, of that much I'm certain. But her reasons..."
"Can't be trusted," the assassin butted in. "Letting her stay with Shepard and his... pets may be having undesirable consequences."
"Perhaps," he conceded, "but she isn't acting against us. We both know she wouldn't go against her mission. The facts are still in our favor: she still needs Cerberus to protect Echo." The Illusive Man looked up, activating the vid screens in front of him as he checked in on his projects. "If the situation escalates, I will handle it."
"But what if she doesn't nee-"
"I said I will handle it."
He closed the update from Project Obsidian, bringing up the one from Overlord in its place. That reaper isn't going anywhere for the time being. Not until Shepard visits, at least. As his eyes traveled down the document, he heard a grunt of displeasure from the other man. "The subject is closed, Leng."
"That wasn't for Henry Lawson," he said, correctly interpreting his meaning. "But this quarian you recruited for the cause-"
"Do you have a problem with my judgement?"
"No, but I'd prefer if we weren't trusting the success of the project to a suit-rat without telling the scientists who we're dealing with. This is humanity's fight, not theirs."
The Illusive Man nodded. "Understandable, but the potential benefits to the Migrant Fleet are too great for the quarian to risk betrayal, even with their own feelings about us. And despite the need for secrecy, our asset is making progress." He lit a new cigarette, taking a long drag of its pungent fumes before exhaling.
In leaps and bounds.
I'm not a monster.
A radical thinker, yes. Driven to save my species, yes. Willing to go farther than most would dare in order to reclaim the homeworld, certainly.
A horrible father... yes.
But not a monster.
He knew that he had pushed away his only daughter after Laenya's death, that he had effectively ripped himself out of Tali's life since that day so long ago. Thankfully, Raan and Tali's friends had been there for her when he could not.
When he should not.
Everything about his daughter reminded him of his beloved. Laenya's laughter. Laenya's voice. Laenya's modesty. Laenya's accusing stare whenever he wronged or angered her.
Of course, Raan had tried to convince him otherwise with her own words. How she saw a strong quarian, willing to do everything possible to help her people. How the girl was gifted beyond her years, both in skill and luck. How she possessed a potential for leadership, despite the young one's trepidation toward the prospect.
Any chance those words had of succeeding died when Tali decided to don her mother's realk.
The day she returned from her pilgrimage, she had requested to see him, the Alarei's captain. When he had heard that her gift could advance his research by leaps and bounds, he'd rejoiced. But then he saw her, wearing Laenya's purple cloth over her suit. Being haunted by his bondmate's memory was one thing. Having to see her spitting image on a daily basis, however...
Focus!
Admiral Rael'Zorah shook his head, bringing himself back to the task at hand. "Run test 435-B."
"Running 435-B. Activating geth platform in three... two... one... now."
Rael and his team watched through a quarter-meter-thick window as a geth trooper sparked to life. The synthetic slowly sat up on the operating table within the soundproofed room, its single eye burning accusingly at the quarians. It crossed the room to the window, the only visible exit.
Thud
It struck at the barrier, attempting to break free of its prison.
Thud
Rael wasn't phased. Every other test had started out exactly like this.
Thud
His voice was devoid of expression, tired from stating the order hundreds of times. "Paav'Olo, initiate the hack."
Thud
"Hacking protocol uploaded. Active in three seconds."
Thud
Thud
It stopped. The geth's hand froze less than a centimeter away from the surface.
"Order it to stand down."
The techs behind him worked at their consoles, sending a signal to the machine. It began to lower its arm.
And began to kick at the window instead.
"Sensors show it's restored from backup, Admiral."
Another failure... Rael shook his head at the sight of the geth, still attempting to escape its prison. "Shut it off. We need to work on the issues in lines 343 and 2401 if we're going to override that damn safeguard."
The other quarians nodded their heads and began to log the results of the experiment. Before the kill switch was thrown, however, one of the techs said something that stunned the whole room.
"I think I have something that might help."
All activity ceased as the admiral looked at the one who had spoken. His voice finally took on an emotion: unadulterated shock.
"What did you say?"
The speaker, Mala'Reet, quivered under his gaze. "My bondmate sent me something that coul-"
"This project is supposed to remain CLASSIFIED, Reet!" the admiral yelled. "If ANYTHING about this was to get out to the rest of the fleet, it would mean all of us would be EXILED. Is that what you want?"
"I d-didn't tell him anything about the p-project, sir," she stammered. "He didn't even write the c-code that was sent."
A single word passed from Rael's voice modulator, barely above a whisper.
"Explain."
Her words poured out in a rush. "A cousin of his sent it to him to give to me. Shee told him it was something that could help what I was working on. Yan didn't even know what it was for!"
Silence settled over the room, with the exception of the rhythmic strikes of the geth and a small whimper from Mala. Rael contemplated the woman's statement as she continued to shake. "Cousin, you say?"
"His grandfather was born during a break in the single-birth limit. I never even met this cousin of his."
"Do you even know her name?"
She shook her head. "No idea, only that she's on the Moreh. But the file checks out."
Silence.
Thud
"Forward it to me and Olo. You," he pointed at the named tech, "and I need to verify it."
The geth's persistent attempts at escape became the only source of sound as Rael and his senior scientist examined the code. Half an hour passed before the two closed the displays on their omni-tools. "Your thoughts, Olo?"
"It's like she said. The code appears built off of version 412-C, but has some extra lines that I don't know the purpose of. They don't appear to add any functions that interfere with the control signal though. If anything worries me, it's the message sender's omni-tool signature. It's-"
"Forged, I know. Someone's aware of the tests, savvy enough to find a workaround for one of our issues, and manages to sneak their version of the code to us?"
Rael quietly considered the offer, for an offer it most certainly was. It's almost too convenient, but we haven't made any headway since version 358. I can't keep the other admirals in the dark forever, especially if this could have been sent by Da-
"Admiral Zorah? What do you want to do?"
He clamped tighter to her hand, willing her to stay alive for just a little while longer. "I will give her the homeworld if I have to!"
Rael gave a slight nod. "Prepare for a test run using Mala's code. Log it as test 436-A."
Nobody moved except Mala. "Captain, are you sure-"
"I said run the damn test."
"Sir?" Olo piped up. "We do have failsafes in place in case any test code becomes malicious, but I wouldn't recommend taxing the-"
"Just do it."
He turned to face the geth as the other quarians reset the testing equipment. It continued to kick at the transparent barrier, thumping out a tireless rhythm as Rael glared at it.
"Test code 436-A executing in three..."
Thud
"Two..."
Thud
"One..."
Thud
"Now."
It stopped. The machine held its pose, seemingly ready to attack the admiral who stood just out of reach.
"Order it to stand down."
The synthetic placed its foot on the ground, then stood up straight.
"Have it raise its right arm."
It obeyed.
"Lower it."
It did so.
"Finally," Rael breathed. "We've made some progress. End the test an-"
The geth's eye suddenly glowed with a green energy. It began to lift its arm once more.
"Paav'Olo, are you doing that?"
"No sir, it appears to be reacting to some outside signal. I'm not controlling it."
"Quick, kill the-" Before he finished the sentence, the green light faded. The geth once more stood at attention, as if awaiting a command.
"Sir?"
"Order it to lift its left arm this time. Hold for exactly five seconds, then lower it."
It did so under Rael's vigilant gaze.
The green light didn't return. "Any sign of that outside signal?"
"Negative," one of the other techs replied. "Maybe it was a one-time occurrence? That signal was sent using standard radio waves- It could have been some sort of interference that caused it to repeat your order."
"That... is possible, Lio'Pallai." the admiral breathed.
Her fingers slacken in his hold. A minute passes, or perhaps an hour, before he lays her hand down. "In the name of the homeworld Tali will see someday, I promise you."
"We're moving up our timetables. Start networked testing immediately."
"What?" Olo yelped. "We should focus on finding out what caused that signal, and how the geth was effected. It could happen again."
"And how would we know that without continued testing?" Rael countered. "No, we need to keep going." He looked back toward the now docile geth, his grim tone making up for his hidden face. "Do we have enough parts to bring more online?"
"Yes," Paav admitted. "The new shipment from your daughter should let us add at least two more geth to the network."
"This code changes everything, Admiral," Mala replied. "The Admiralty Board won't be as opposed now that we know it works. Perhaps we should inform them, just to be safe."
Rael shot that idea down immediately. "No, we're too close. I promised to build my daughter a house on the homeworld. I'm not going to jeopardize that by leaving it to the bickering politicians."
"You know, if Tali'Zorah sent us more working material, we could expand the network more easily," Lio thought aloud. "Perhaps if we-"
"Absolutely not!" The admiral's frosty gaze swung toward the young tech. "I don't want her exposed to any political blowback. Leave. Tali. Out of this!" He took a moment to master his breathing rate before continuing.
He can't bear to look her. She repeats her request, and again he hears Laenya's voice. He can't let her add to his torment, it would only wind up hurting the both of them even more. He responds, his tone professional, deprived of the emotions that threatened to shred his very soul. "I cannot accept your pilgrimage gift, Tali'Zorah."
I wish things had been different.
"Assemble new geth with what we have. Bypass security protocols if need be."
Rael didn't listen as the others deactivated the geth and concluded the test session, his mind lingering on the last time he had willingly allowed himself to see his daughter in person. Even buried in his work as he was, he knew it would not have been enough to distract him from the presence of his bondmate's living specter. Oh, he knew she wasn't a true carbon copy of her mother, but he would never have been able to see the young woman's other qualities. Especially not when she looked and sounded just like Laenya.
Allowing her to stay was simply not an option two years ago. He knew Tali hated him for it. Keelah, he hated himself for it.
But it was the only way he could do right by her.
"It's my duty as a father."
Shepard rose from his seat, addressing the drell across the table. "I'll set a course for the Citadel immediately."
"Thank you, Shepard," Thane murmured, his eyes assuming the glazed appearance that John had learned to associate with reliving his memories. "I may not have been there for Kolyat much before, but I won't allow him to live the life I did. He never deserved it."
The Spectre took his leave as the drell lowered his head in prayer. I just hope we get there in time. Somehow, Thane's son had found out about the father's messy profession. Kolyat had thrown around his name and gotten hired on an assassination contract somewhere. Still, the fact that he's willing to drop everything and go across the galaxy for his son... He shook his head softly at the thought.
Jacob.
He put a hand to his head, a rush of thoughts cascading through his mind.
Guilt.
Failure.
Disgrace.
"Sir?"
Shepard's eyes jerked open, taking in his surroundings in an instant. I could have sworn the mess hall was farther away than that. Several people were clustered around the tables, too absorbed in their own meals to have noticed his entrance. Jacob, however, had a look of concern on his face, a sauce-speckled plate in his hands. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah..." John walked over to the kitchen, and soon heard a soft clink of metal as Jacob set his dish on the island. Gardner could be seen on the other side of the counter, busily whipping up more of the night's meal. He lowered his voice. "Something Thane said... it reminded me of what happened groundside is all."
"You needed to stop him, Shepard," the Cerberus operative responded. "He's killed his crewmates before, and he was trying to kill again. Best he could have hoped for when the Alliance finally arrived was life in a cell." He paused, then, "Even that would have been too good for him."
"And you're okay with that?"
"I've told you before, I buried the man he was ten years ago. But you don't need to worry about me. Those people needed to be rescued, even if he didn't. Besides..." A grin began to creep across Jacob's face as he pointed a thumb at the working cook. "Gardner's almost out of the good stuff. You should get a helping before Grunt arrives to kill off everything that's still edible."
"I'll thank you for not criticizing tomorrow's meatloaf before I've even cooked it, Taylor." The named man cut in, holding out a loaded plate for Shepard. "He wasn't kidding about Grunt though, Commander. The krogan can eat half Joker's body weight in one sitting when he's peckish."
Shepard accepted the plate. "We're heading to the Citadel right now, so you won't have to put varren meat back on the menu again for a while."
"That's good news, Shepard," Jacob said. "But don't beat yourself up over... you know." The Spectre gave a slight nod, understanding that he didn't want to talk about his father in front of an audience. "I'll leave you to your dinner then."
"Jacob. Rupert." John turned away and started looking for an empty seat. He had just settled in and lifted his fork when his omni-tool chimed.
Of all the times to get an urgent message... He lowered the utensil and opened his inbox. The metal tool fell to the table with a clatter as he read what had to be the shortest message Garrus had ever sent him.
I've found him.
Note from the author:
Nicholas Glass's character was created by Levi Matthews for Finding a Way and is used by permission.
Khelish word of the day:
realk - traditional shawl worn by quarians of both genders, typically seen on the outside of the sh'rayan
(Credit to Calinstel, because I've literally seen enough fics with this term that calling it something else feels wrong lol)