|Chapter 4|
|Date: 2/3/2184|
|Location: Exodus Cluster|
Weapons diagnostics. MAKO workshop manuals. Simulators. Alliance engineering proprieties. The apps went on and on. All of them useless now.
She scrolled through the long list on her omni-tool and decided it be best to delete them. One by one, she dropped them in her omni-tool's trash receptacle. When the last icon finally disappeared from her menu, she came across the long string of text messages she'd kept for the better part of a year.
All of them with John, of course.
Maybe a few with Liara and Garrus. But mostly him.
Most of the stuff they talked about involved menial things like the Normandy's core readouts or how she needed help installing some component into her gear or shotgun.
Some of them more meaningful. Things like dealing with the pressure of combat or what to do when you had some trouble sleeping at night.
He was there for it all. Not anymore. She'd never get to do any of that again with him.
Ever.
She drew out a flat sigh and saved it by stuffing them into an unlabeled file.
"This is your captain speaking," Her pilot said through the intercom, "We'll be arriving at the Noverian space station shortly. Please be ready for landing. We ask that you fasten your seat belts and have your personal belongings close to you." He took a breath and paused, "And, as per Noverian security protocol, random security checks will be conducted upon departure." The intercom clicked off and left Tali staring at the ceiling.
Great. Guess who was going to get a "randomly" selected? This girl.
"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya? Did I say that right?" The turian asked as he set his hands on the cold metal table.
"Yes sir."
"Go on." He said.
Tali's frown deepened.
The tone the officer was using wasn't helping at all.
"I'm returning from pilgrimage." She repeated for the sixth time since the interrogation started.
He rose what could pass as eyebrows and skimmed through his stack of papers.
Tali peered at his little folder with an unimpressed look on her face. What the hell were those even for? What could he possibly be looking at? Pictures to make sure her clothes matched the description of extranet articles?"
She twiddled her thumbs and chewed on her tongue to burn time because she didn't have anything else to say.
The turian in front of her grumbled something, looked back up to her for a second, and back down to his papers again. If she were guessing by the way his mandibles flickered, he wasn't really buying into her story.
"So you're telling me that you're the Tali'Zorah. The one who'd helped Commander John Shepard liberate the Citadel?"
"Yes."
"Would she really book passage on a common passenger airship? That's odd, isn't it? You'd think she'd have a better means of getting around, wouldn't you think?"
Her face looked incredulous. What the hell kind of question was that?
"Look." She said, tone flat and exasperated at the same time, "You wanna know how it's me?"
She stood up and grasped both ends of the table which had the turian reflexively put a hand on his tazor.
"I'll share you a story no one knows yet. John Shepard? He got spaced. One floor above me. Geth cruiser sabot pierced the lower cargo deck of an Alliance frigate: The Denmark. Sixty seven men dead. Nearly half of them the Normandy's. I booked myself on a 'common passenger airship' because I wanted to get away from it all and just go home."
She lied a little. The story wouldn't have been as believable had she said it had been a collector ship instead. She didn't worry about it either, because she knew her story would check out with whatever the Alliance or Council would release to the public regarding the Normandy's fate.
"I got to watch my friends burn to death and get sucked out into the void screaming." She said, voice breaking, "I have to keep that with me. I got footage too. You wanna see that? You wanna hear it all as it went down? Check my omni-tool. It's all there if you want. Password's 31415926."
He tried to open his mouth, but Tali wasn't finished.
"The Normandy's final resting ground is on Ullipses. Sanctioned off for 'military interests' indefinitely to keep conspiracy to a minimum. I'll let you in on it: Planet doesn't exist anymore. They'll fail to mention that detail. I promise."
She sat down and shrugged defiantly, shoulders trembling. "I got more. You want more?"
"No," He murmured between a steady breath, glancing at the two-way mirror next to them, "No, that'll be enough."
He closed the folder, stood up, and went for the door. Opening it, he remained at the exit's breadth, and spoke. "You can grab your things in ten minutes. I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am. My condolences."
And with that, he left as quietly as possible, leaving her alone.
The time started to crawl and it consumed her until she wept silently.
Doing this was going to end her.
"Tad salty." He said between a bite, "Surprised though, you cooking for a dextro. Surprised you cook at all, honestly."
Liara gave Garrus a slight frown. "Well, Garrus, I'm a scientist. Not a cook."
"Fair enough."
He cut more into his meal and kept eating.
"Garrus?"
"Hm?'
"You ever... wonder? Where he could be right now?" She asked as she spiced her cooking veggies.
"You mean Shepard."
"Yes."
"Drifting probably." Garrus said, his gaze going glossy.
"Drifting." She uttered herself, voice never leaving her.
Garrus didn't feel as hungry anymore, so he set his fork down. "Here's a thought for you: you ever think that maybe the collectors were there for us personally? And not the Normandy?"
"I don't think they were there for either, Garrus. We just happened to cross paths."
He stared at the wafting steam from his meal. "Maybe."
"What do you think, then?" She asked.
"Maybe we did just cross paths." He surmised as his thoughts tangled with one another, "But they took the crew away. Managed to suck a planet into a black hole just to have it all disappear. Why? What were they after? Why spare anyone not human from their kidnapping? What made us forget everything leading up to that point? And the collectors sometimes being taken control of? Spirits. This hole we're looking at is so far down under the water, I just... I don't know."
It was apparent to Liara that it was troubling him greatly. He was, after all, an ex-detective.
"Obsessing over it isn't going to bring us any closer to an answer." She decided to say.
"Stuff from a movie, Liara. Talking about it like it actually happened feels insane."
"Insane? I mean, it's insane, yes, but what about Saren and Sovereign? Is that already hazy with you?"
"Of course not. But this was some next level stuff, Liara."
"Garrus. If you dig too deep, don't be disappointed if you don't find what you're looking for."
He carefully leaned back. "One too many bad digs for you, huh?"
"Of course." She nodded, "You let yourself down if you keep your hopes up."
"You're burning your food."
"Oh." She blinked and hurriedly tossed around the sizzling greens. "Oops. A little black on one side."
"We know one thing at least." Garrus said, "Collectors earned their name for a reason, right? They collect things. Slaves. Guns. Odds and ends."
"And?"
"No one knows their motive for it. But they showed us a lot. We've probably seen more of the collectors than anyone has in the galaxy."
"Okay. So what was the thing we know about them?"
"They took the crew without a fight. Put us all to sleep and made us all forget. Then we find out they got a big ship and the resources to house people in pods. They're... planning something."
"You're right about that. That does sound like a plan, doesn't it?"
"A big plan." He said stoically, mind racing, "But the details still just aren't adding up."
"Like with us waking up at the Normandy while the humans all get kidnapped and sent to their ship?"
"Like that, yeah."
"Odd it hadn't just ended right there." Liara intoned, staring distantly at her cooking food, "Why not be done with it? Why not just end us when they had the chance?"
"Because they thought we were already dead." Garrus said quietly, "They weren't expecting us to realistically attempt a rescue and somehow pull it off. And the planet was going to die anyway." He breathed in at the crushing thought.
He was expecting Liara to provide some feedback, but all he got was silence on her end.
"Liara?"
"They wanted Shepard." Liara said, realizing her sudden epiphany, "Goddess, it makes sense. They wanted him."
"Now what makes you say that?"
"Garrus. We have to find Shepard. We have to find his body."
"Liara, you're getting ahead of yours—"
She cut him off. "We have the means to do it. Garrus. They were after him. We have to find John before they do."
Garrus took his fork and stuffed a saucy morsel into his mouth.
"Alright. How're we doing this?"
Hours later...
She dreamed of flying toward a red giant. Watched its round swollen body, late in the stages of stellar evolution, spread its long, hot, and fiery tendrils into the vacuum of space.
The spiraling jets of bright light from the aging star massed near the event horizon of an inky circle devoid of life or light.
A black hole.
The sun grew pale and its burning fire dampened. Before the small quarian, the sun uttered its final gasp of breath before finally collapsing into a supernova.
She watched it all with hardly a flinch.
The pain of John's death was worth more than a million suns.
It wasn't sufficient enough to weigh against the gravity of what she'd lost. Because it was heavier than any black hole and more visceral than any supernova in the known universe.
She too joined the star's fate. Gripped by the power of an unyielding gravitational pull, she was thrashed around into a vicious elliptical path into the howling dark.
Her eyes opened slowly and had to remember where she was again.
Ah, right.
She was inside some shitty corvette surrounded by equally shitty looking people on her last ride home to Hamshee station.
Her eyes stung, so she closed them and rest her head back on the shitty headrest with fluff coming out the back.
"Only a couple hours more…" Tali murmured with a forced sigh.
She'd been on this old and nasty ship squeezed between a chubby looking hanar and a pasty looking drell for six hours.
And she was pretty sure this was the eighteenth time the drell got up to piss.
All of this was only reminding her of what was to come.
Cramped spaces.
Old ships.
And being butt to nut next to people without a moment's reprieve.
For the rest of her life.
Wrex's stepped onto the platform and listened to the echo of his footsteps dwarf the salarian's.
"The model?" Wrex asked quietly as they approached the ship.
"The Ailer Three Series: corvette class, sir." The salarian answered.
"Nice ship." Wrex replied evenly.
"Indeed." The salesman nodded.
"I'll take it."
"Fantastic." The salarian clasped his hands together, "Follow me; we'll get you set up." The krogan followed the small man and watched the bounce in his step with a faint looking smile.
"Where are you going, if I might ask?" Salarian asked as he gave Wrex a quick sideways glance, "Vacation?"
"I wish I were." Wrex said as he followed the little salesman, "But I'm going back to Tuchanka. Some things I need to settle."
"I see." The salarian nodded as they entered his office.
"If it's alright with you, I'd like to pay in full. Cash."
"O—of course! Absolutely! Any warranties you'd be interested in? We off—"
Wrex cut him off with the simple raise of his hand. "None necessary, it's a one way trip; I'll scrap it once I'm finished traveling." The krogan leaned forward, grinned meekly, and offered his hand to shake.
Registering the gesture, the salesman accepted quickly, using both hands to grip the krogan's.
"A pleasure Mr. Wrex."
"Likewise." His voice carried off as he thumbed his omni-tool to wire the credits.
There wasn't much to be said about Ashley.
At the current moment, she was placed on 'leave' and to await 'further instructions from her superiors.'
Fortunately, the brass kept their space and waited for when she could get back on her feet.
So they extended her leave.
Thank god.
After what had to have been the fourth shower that day, she sat back down on the couch and turned the TV on just so she could get some background noise to think.
She lost a lot of friends on the Normandy. A lot. And now everyone was going their separate ways.
It was only a matter of time, really. This whole campaign against Saren was going to end sooner or later. She just hadn't expected it to end the way it did.
She sipped her hot tea and massaged her eyes to ease the swelling from her marathon of weeping. It was almost as bad as when she lost Kaidan. She took another steady sip and closed her eyes and let out a sigh that trembled.
She thought about praying. Hoping somehow that John was in a better place. After all of the shit he went through, he should be. It wouldn't be fair.
But at this very moment, she didn't want to pray. John was supposed to be the last person that needed to die in the galaxy. But he did. He was called home. In a terrible way.
She gulped down the rest of whatever was in her mug and went to fetch for some more on the stove.
She should've denied the extended leave-time.