|Date: 7/19/2183|
|Location: Horse Head Nebula / Pax System / Noveria: Peak 15 Research complex|
John stopped, face beset with the pain of having to inhale this frightfully cold air. "Hold on. I need to catch my breath." With hardly the will to stand on his own, he let his sling hold onto his gun so he could grip the marred railing in this felled hallway. "Garrus. Hold security."
Garrus took up a position and knelt down, rifle raised, and stilled himself. He gave the commander and the frozen gore etched into his gear a glance. "You okay?"
"Yeah." He nodded through a careful sigh, "I'm fine."
"Are you sure." Tali persisted in Garrus' place despite his placating answer, "You don't look okay."
"I'm okay," He murmured, putting up a hand to assure her, "I swear. I'm okay."
She didn't believe him. She stepped closer and inspected what she could to make sure he wasn't lying, intentional or not. Without even asking, she sleuthed off some of the rachni shit encrusted in his suit seals to double-check everything for him.
The silence between the trio was deafening to some degree. Aside from the hollow gusts from the hallway's broken alpine windows and the snow that continued to settle, it was quiet.
Shepard didn't say anything as she palpated and inspected for damage. The fight they'd just survived was a nightmare too close to reality. It was a dark dance of luck. A lone rachni had nearly killed John. Nearly killed her. Razored limbs. A petrifying and alien scream from the animal that tried to gore them. In its frenzied and blind charge, Shepard caught one slashing spear full across the face, while its monstrous legs sought to pin him beneath. Tali's plate carrier had borne the brunt of its fury as well, a vicious strike slamming into her with the force of a rocket. Shepard, in the pitfalls of its attack, had collapsed to the ground. Yet even in his fall, his weapon had roared to life to speak for his desperate ferocity. He unleashed an incendiary maelstrom into the beast's underbelly, tore open its entrails, and cavitated its chest. Its roar of rage and agony chilled the cold air and, unfazed by the storm of fire eating it away, continued its relentless assault until Tali let free a fat slug from her gun and rendered its head to mist. The resulting outcome had painted the Spectre like a mad artist would a defenseless canvas. Only by the grace of their grit and gear had they survived.
She finished her inspection and held onto his shoulder pad. "You're okay."
"I told you I was."
"I was just making sure. Never can be too careful with you." She worked to gussy him up the same way a mom would her son. She wiped away more of what had dribbled behind his neck and any chunk that found its way into the nooks of his gear. It was the least she could do for him.
"Thanks, Tals." He murmured as she tried her best to clean him of the frozen slick, "I'll bring wet wipes next time."
She gave him a single dry and paltry laugh. "I think that's the best I can do." She said, pilling the goop between her fingers to discard the residue off her gloves, "Please be careful."
"I'll try."
"Blue-1, this is Silver-1. We're outside." Kaidan reported, "Ash and I are working on the landlines now."
"This is, uh..." Wrex fumbled with his radio, "Green team? Oh. Green-1..." There was a momentary pause as Wrex kept broadcasting. "...I'm Green-2? Shit. Nothing here at the VI core, Shepard. Sorry Liara, I get conf—"
Wrex ended the transmission both too late and too soon.
Shepard managed to crack a smile. "Full copy, Silver. Understood Green. Keep me posted. We're still heading deeper into the facility. We'll let you know of any important developments."
"Copy. Out." Kaidan said.
"Understood, Blue-1." Liara answered, "Out."
Tali watched John unfasten his helmet from his rig to inspect its warped crown one last time before finally laying it to rest in the snow. Thankfully, that was the worst that had come of their encounter. That and her chest rig, with its exposed ceramic plate and tattered fabric.
"Alright." He gave his rifle a once-over and leveled it, "Let's move."
"Aye." Garrus stood and they stacked up with Shepard leading. Only footsteps and silence for the next minute as they traversed deeper down its depths. Opening a door and crossing its breadth, they slowly scanned their sight lines and took up positions when they saw rachni in some kind of territorial duel over the remains of a dead body.
Tali then realized quite readily the body wasn't dead. Agonal breathing from a gaping torso missing both legs and an arm. Whatever was left of the remaining limb was barely anything to speak about. Wet bone detached from muscle fibers and little else. The face was a diced mess and only an eye remained. But it still held focus. Still trained on the two creatures torturing their plaything.
Like a button to mute, she lost her hearing. Eyes unblinking. The quarian's gaze transfixed on what could barely even measure to abject horror. She did the first thing that came to mind returning to reality. She got a sightline. And fired a single round from her machine pistol into the victim's head to grant what mercy she could.
Hate could barely cross what descended upon that woman. What she saw was an affront to the natural order, a sight so profoundly repugnant that it clawed at the very core of her soul, igniting an inferno that yearned to burn and roar. A tempest of revulsion. Detastation so powerful it warped the air around her in ways no biotic could ever hope to mimic.
Gun released from her grasp, she elected to produce her shotgun instead for the condemnation she poised herself to unleash. She stood in front of John and Garrus, emboldened and protected by what was to be divine wrath.
The rachni, realizing their game had come to an abrupt end, turned to face the slowly approaching quarian and felt delighted that meat-not-like-their-own had so willingly come out to them.
Unfortunately for the budding pair, they didn't yet yield the understanding to know she was armed unlike the dozens of others they'd torn apart.
"Tali, move!" John ordered. That order fell on the deafness of her resolve. She took aim at the leading rachni and fired, its skull instantly rendered hollow. As the carcass cartwheeled into a bloody summersault, she widened the choke and took aim at the second one scurrying toward her with its macabre screech.
She crushed the trigger and bathed it in superheated tungsten. It stumbled from the claymore blanket, crashing into a table and the contents upon it. Beakers and Erlenmeyer flasks shatter, chemicals searing its hide as it screeched.
At the fulcrum of its weaving speers, she fired, scooping fist-sized chunks from its shoulders.
"TALI!"
Rack and fire. She did it over and over into each of its limbs in an intentional and traumatic dissection. A torso now much like its victims, the shotgun fell from her grasp and she drew her knife.
John and Garrus immediately pull from cover to reach her.
She wrenched the nape of its neck upright and reared her blade, pointer against the hilt to issue what it had so readily given to the people of Peak 15. She thrust down into an eye and pulled down to its neck, wrenching and twisting to split whatever bone tried to stop her vivisection.
Then John yanked her way with Garrus finishing off what remained with a volley of fire. She fought and thrashed against his detainment, but John withheld.
"Tali. TALI." He continued to pull her away until his back lined a wall. Then he spun her around and forced her up against that alcove, hands still trapping her. "𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚒."
She stopped struggling and fixed her eyes against his. His heart and stare stiffened from what he was receiving and he let her go. Neither of them moved.
Too spooked to bring words to his lips, his stare finally faltered and she stepped aside. She drew up a forearm, cleaned her blade, and sheathed it.
She could feel their stares burning into her when she went for her guns waiting in the snow.
"John," Tali said with an even tone, racking the slide of her shotgun to check for malfunctions, "They deserved it and you know it. Kindly, lead us."
The mission ended with Benezia's death. Ended with the team deciding to release the queen of Rachni.
The ride back to Noveria's spaceport had been a quiet one. Everyone had an opinion on what transpired on Peak 15, but it wasn't the time to be expressing them in the din of their tracked snowcat. Liara had to come to terms with killing her mother. Wrex's reservations about what they released were astute and well-seated. But Tali's issue had been the vexation clinging to her soul.
The beaten and exhausted squad of six shuffled through NDC's security gates and offered what information they could to the first responders preparing to make their way to commence relief efforts. The Normandy would remain in Port Hanshan for another day to meet with authorities the following morning as a courtesy to give their statements and testimony.
Then they all went to Normandy's port. Slowing her gait to draw distance from the group, she eventually stopped altogether and watched them enter the frigate's hold. She wanted to be alone. In the quiet solitude of the cold's omnipresence, she continued her idle stroll down the catwalk's length and braced herself up against the concrete, arms knit across her chest and atop the gray dais.
She stared at the vessel she called home. But she didn't pay attention to what she was seeing. The wintry bite of the slabs her body pressed up against bled into her skin but she didn't move.
She was fully cognizant of what was happening to her. Post trauma. It was plain and simple. She wasn't naive to know its effects. She'd felt it plenty. But it never felt any less awful and perturbing. A foreboding that festered.
Five minutes turned to ten. She stared listlessly at the blizzard howling at their dock's breadth, flakes traversing so sharply across the landscape they flowed almost horizontally. She watched the violence outside, mind absently having her pick at the fabric of her plate carrier.
A thought dropped in her lap and she began to rifle through her pockets until she found what she was looking for.
'ɪɢxᴀɴᴏғᴇɴ .256% ʀʟsᴇ | -ᴏɴᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴅᴏsᴇ- | ᴛᴇᴍᴘ. ʀᴇʟɪᴇғ ᴏғ sʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍs ᴏғ ᴏʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ/ᴇᴘɪsᴏᴅɪᴄ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ sᴛʀᴇss.' The little capsule read.
Standard issue to a quarian pilgrim's IFAK. In the days leading up to her leaving the flotilla, she thought it stupid they'd been issued such a potent medicine. The stuffed had bellied a reputation back home. She doubted pilgrims were sidelining their pilgrimage to do what she was doing. But she supposed trauma came in all forms though. It wasn't a contest.
It rest there in her palm, eyes in a glazed trance. Of all the shit she'd seen, this was the one that had finally plucked her string. She could handle the death. She could handle the destruction. What she couldn't handle was what had happened on Peak 15. That was different. There was killing and war. Then there was that.
She turned away from the view, pressed her back against the barrier, and slid down its harsh surface, the ripstop of her plate carrier singing a raspy song until the hard and frigid ground met her.
She uncapped this little metal jar and fished for the syringe. Popping off its protective cap, she checked to make sure the pen was ready and primed before pressing it tightly against her thigh and depressing the button. She didn't even feel a pinch. She sniffled and sighed at the crutch she was using to make the pain go away.
Pen still in hand, arms held taught over knees, she pitched her head back against the hedge and closed her eyes. One minute the same as the last, she sat and waited for her reprieve. Time continued its unceasing draw. She lost herself to its passage.
Eventually, she felt a presence fall beside her. It was warm. It was quiet. She ignored it and paid it no mind. Then she felt something draw even closer. Too hard to discount its presence, she weakly opened her tired eyes to see John sitting beside her. He looked showered and was back in fatigues with a thick coat and beanie on.
"You've been out here for two hours." He murmured quietly to her. He wasn't facing her.
She checked her chrono to see he wasn't exaggerating. She really had been out here for that long. He didn't say anything else.
"How's Liara."
"Had a long talk with her. She's... handling what she can."
The silence between them was punctuated with the windy howl of the port's backdrop.
"...What happens now." She murmured finally. He knew she wasn't asking for a schedule. There was a momentous crawl and Shepard finally answered.
"You heal. You get better."
He could see her impassive stare trained against the wall in front of them. Vacant and without vigor. He reached for her hand and brought it down next to him to hold onto.
"You will get better, Tali. I promise."
She felt a sadness quake under his touch. Life ebbed back through his soft handle on her.
Still beside each other, knees still close to her chest, she dropped the pen and drew up arms to bury her face into his shoulder. It was a faint weep. A delicate whisper of pain. Hand holding her head and leaning her into a gentle rock, he stared up at the brutal architecture, tears encroaching his vision.
|Chapter 7|
|12/8/2183|
|Location: Planet Ullipses|
Tali took a step outside and looked up at the sky's stars.
There were millions of them up there... and their impeccable size, stretched across thousands of light years, formed a faint line of the Milky Way.
"Heathers…" Tali called for the marine that tried to squeeze past her, "…Would you happen to know the time?"
The woman checked her watch with a faint smile.
"0132 hours for the Normandy, Tali."
"Thanks."
Heathers went on her way.
Tali saw the crew strewn about, chatting up about the past couple days while others huddled around fires.
She stepped down the small path to the fire Wrex and Liara were sitting by.
The krogan munched away on a bag of chips while Liara had dozed off.
Garrus on the other hand was laying on a crate star gazing with his small pair of binoculars.
Tali made her way to him.
"Eyeing the view?" She asked.
"Yeah."
"Is it any better with those?" She pointed at his set of binoculars.
"I guess." he shrugged.
"What're you looking for?"
"Reminiscing mostly."
"About what?"
"Mom." He said simply.
"Oh."
"She would love to meet you someday, Tali." He said, facing her for a brief second.
"I'm quarian."
"Well, saving the galaxy has its merits."
Tali rolled her eyes.
"She's not racist. Not by a long shot. My dad on the other hand..." He faced her, "Might not take meeting you too kindly."
"We all have daddy issues don't we?" She said with a snort.
"Yeah..."
"Tell me about your mom."
He thought about it for a moment and began. "Strict... the biggest mess of emotions a turian could ever hope to have. Loving... caring. All the things a mother should be."
His gaze got glossy. "I remember, when I was younger, she took me on a trip to the highest mountain on Palaven. On it, there was this giant observatory. And when I looked at the stars she said to me: 'son, you'll be up there someday, and you're gonna make your mother proud."
Tali nodded at that. "Well, you certainly did. You did help save the galaxy. Not everyone can put that on their résumé." Tali said.
"Very true." He nodded, "And it all started in the military. Well, I mean, every turian goes into the military."
"Even the weak ones?"
"Okay, not everyone, but that's not where I'm getting at. She said that to me... and it just stuck. I wanted to be up there. So I extended my time in the military. Eventually, I ended up in C-sec after my retirement."
Tali sighed and looked up at the stars with him.
"How are you holding up?" She asked.
"Good. Nothing like feeling humbled after crash landing on an empty planet with no one to call."
"Yeah. I agree."
"For once… we're not here hunting criminals, shooting geth... or saving the galaxy and wrestling down Saren's idiotic krogan."
"I heard that." Wrex said from behind them.
Garrus ignored him.
"We're only here with each other. And I'm enjoying every moment of it."
"Good." Tali replied.
Wrex got up, threw his bag of chips in the fire, and walked off. "I gotta take a leak."
Wrex's lumbering strides woke Liara up and she started shivering.
"Wow. It's freezing..."
"Get closer to the fire then, Liara." Garrus said.
"But it hurts."
"There's some sleeping bags somewhere over there." Garrus pointed near the Normandy's stern.
"And it beats laying on the dirt." He added.
Liara shrugged, got up, and took his advice.
Garrus faced Tali again. "My turn. How're you feeling?"
"The same as you." She said, "This is about as close as it gets to a vacation."
"True that."
"I'm gonna sit down, Garrus. I need to rest."
"There's more kindling if the fire ever dies down." Garrus pointed to the synthetic 'logs' the Normandy's escape pods were supplied with.
"How long do they burn for?" Tali picked one up and examined it.
"Hours. I'm going to sleep. Wake me if anything stupid happens."
Tali set it down next to her and moved over all the small rocks at her feet for a nice patch of dirt to sit on.
"Good night Garrus."
"Night, Tali. No pranks please."
"Alright Garrus."
"Don't duct tape me into a box."
"Okay, Garrus."
"Don't pour water on my face either. I hate that."
"Okay, Garrus."
"And make sure Ash keeps her damned whip cream away from my hands."
"Garrus. Okay."
"Good."
Tali shook her head, smiled, and rest her head against the crate.