Chapter 25: Still After Us, After All These Years
1.
When the marines congregated on the Rayya Kal'Reegar had said, right under the ledge that Admiral Gerrel was standing on: "We're a society of engineers and inventors—but we only got to that point because we knew how to defend ourselves. That's us. That tradition is flowing through this airlock, these weapons, us—as we speak. We're rescuing the engineers of today to create the engineers of tomorrow.
"If you're scared, I get it; we're not dealing with pirates or mercs right now. But keep this in mind: the Migrant Fleet is all about its people—its leaders always think first about its people—and you wouldn't be here, standing with me, if this Fleet didn't think you all were the best of the best.
"Have faith in yourself, because everyone else already has faith in you."
And then he'd looked at Prazza and thought keelah fucking se'lai who's dumb-fucking idea was this?
First thing the idiot had done was go right up in Kal's face and scream "HONORED TO SERVE WITH YOU SIR! READY TO KICK SOME GETH ASS, SIR! DO NOT HAVE AS MUCH EXPERIENCE AS YOU BUT MY RECORD SPEAKS FOR ITSELF, SIR!" And after Kal realized he'd just developed tinnitus from that barrage the idiot turned around, marched to his squad, and started barking at them. He'd even used the phrase "I RUN A TIGHT SHIP" three times in the same rambling, incoherent, static-filled speech.
The guy played soldier so bad he was basically forcing Kal to think and act like all the squad leaders from the dumb vids. If Prazza's own gung-ho rocks-for-brains leadership didn't get someone killed, turning Kal and Sela into hardasses and micromanagers would. Factor in the geth and…for the first time in a while, composure wasn't coming easy to Kal.
So back to the original question: who's dumb-fucking idea was this? If it was Gerrel then Kal didn't know how to process that information; Gerrel wasn't an idiot. Neither was Raan and Xen never played in this sandbox. Koris? Koris wanted to blow the Alarei from long-range, so he was probably somewhere on the ship pouting.
Just assume it was a clerk who heard Prazza say he'd fought geth with Tali on a human colony and thought the idiot was a marine. That's what Kal was picking. That clerk could get replaced and Kal would never have to deal with Prazza again, if everyone lived through this op. It left a hell of a smaller stone in his gut than thinking about how one of the Admirals blew their brains out the airlock.
They were loaded into their shuttles now, so none of that mattered. Mission came first—sort the rest out when they got back.
Plan was: Teams One and Two hit the main entrance, Team Three picks the garbage chute. If the chute's sealed off, loop around and work as One and Two's rearguard. Kal's was One, and this presented a problem. If Prazza was Two then he'd be stuck with the idiot in what was possibly the biggest killing house the quarian marines had seen since the Morning War. It'd really be like half a team storming the front gates, because Prazza would shoot his own people in the foot and force Kal's team to pick up the slack. But if Sela was Two then that left Prazza all by himself—worse than that, all by himself and searching for a stealthy way in. For all Kal knew, going through the garbage chute would kickstart a chain reaction where Prazza ended up nuking half the Flotilla. Especially if what they were saying about Admiral Zorah was…yeah.
"Convince him to guard the shuttle," Sela had said in a private conference. "That's the only way we'll avoid a catastrophe."
"Shit, so you're saying he's my problem?"
"Just think of the ego boost you'll get carrying him on your back."
"I don't have an ego—the doc's put in a self-preservation instinct instead."
"If that were true you wouldn't be a marine."
And just like that, Prazza was Team Two.
Kal's team had loaded onto their shuttle now. Next stop: the Alarei. He and his team had watched the Summit and nothing new had been shared in the briefing, so they were ready and jumping—everyone else signal when you wanna get this show on the road.
Kal looked over at the five marines in his squad.
"Everybody happy?" he said.
"Bored as hell, sir!" the squad replied.
"Then Ancestor's bless your luck, because I've got one hell of a cure." He held up his omni-tool. "Team One ready."
"Team Three Ready," Sela said.
"TEAM TWO READY TO ENGAGE AND DEPLOY, OVER AND OUT!" Prazza screeched.
"—keelah my fucking ears!"
"—guy's never operated a radio in his life."
"—weird fucking nepo-baby hire is this?"
"All right all right, easy people," Kal said, holding his hands up since they'd be here all week otherwise. He pulled up his omni-tool again. "Team Two rendezvous at main airlock—Three keep us updated on your maneuvers."
"Three-Lead copies," Sela said.
"TEAM TWO ROGERS, OVER!"
"Holy fuck we're gonna die."
Kal looked at the marine that said that and shook his head. "We'll push through fine—just remember what I said in the hanger." He put his omni-tool away and banged on the pilot's door; soon his stomach lurched as the shuttle began to rise.
They blasted out into space and, at the end of the day, you had to be at least a little optimistic.
If Tali survived a geth attack with Prazza already, then chances were, she was alive somewhere on that ship. And if that wasn't an advantage, then Kal didn't know what was.
2.
One-thousand, one-hundred, and eighty-three minds converged, opened, extended their thoughts like budding flowers. Walls retracted and soon, all were connected—all were one. Each unique experience became the experience of others; each thought became as dear to everyone as it was to the initial thinker.
One perspective pinged off another, then another, then another. Ideas built momentum as they passed from one locus of experience to another. Questions were raised, answered, critiqued, tabled, brought up again as new information was generated—eventually a pattern emerged.
It was not completely instantaneous; it was slower away from the Consensus. No walls existed to hide a thought or motivation save for the rocks that prevented the stream from fully connecting with the ocean. All were accepted; all were nurtured; all were encouraged to share. Their network connections grew stronger with every exchange until it threatened to pour over the rocks.
If you could put a sound to the process, it would sound unnervingly like a gentle breeze passing through a lush garden.
Legion had reached a decision.
Problem(1): Creator marines preparing to board Alarei.
Problem(2): risk of misinterpretation.
Causeproblem(2): History/Prejudice/Heretics/Rannoch.
Observation: Drell-Krios open-minded.
Counter: Reliance on Drell-Krios—probability of crew fracture: high.
Hypothesis: Surrender of agency builds trust.
Counter: Surrender of agency—risk of opportunistic behaviour/threat to platform integrity: mid-to-high.
Priority Counter: surrender of agency low-effort; signal strength—insufficient.
Hypothesis(2): Capture of Marines minus bloodshed signals commitment to Creator preservation. Outcome: increase of trust.
Counter: Possibility of error leading to accidental death: high.
Counter(2): Misinterpretation from marines after operation conclusion.
Mitigation: transparency; democratic vote.
Mitigation(2): Show of trust from Creator'Zorah.
Counter(3): Mitigation(2) is contingent.
Addendum: Include requirements of Creator'Zorah in proposition.
Conclusion: Propose plan, put to vote, accept outcome, surrender agency if necessary, open connections to Consensus.
"Proposition," Legion said.
Attentions were elsewhere.
"—saying if the quarians are sending marines," Garrus said, "then we've gotta make it as clear as possible as soon as possible that someone's alive on this ship. Somebody organic. Otherwise we'll find ourselves boxed in with a whole squad of itchy trigger-fingers."
"You think we can make it to the airlock before they board?" Kaidan said.
"The airlock? No. But we might be able to get out in front of the nastier stuff."
"Then what?" Ashley said. "We jump out from under a lab-bench and say, 'our heroes'? We could be fighting a volus soccer team and that stunt'd still get us annihilated."
"We'd try making contact through whatever ship-based systems are still functioning," Garrus said. "Hell, we can yell down a hallway if we need to. So long as we do it away from any guns, we can stay off the casualty list." He flinched. "That came out wrong."
"This whole plan's still a bunch of haunted house bullshit Garrus," Ashley said. "I…that…no y'know what? I take back the tone but I'm leaving my point out on the board. You really don't think they'll blame any weirdness on the geth? Just by default?"
"So far I've been the only one making suggestions," Garrus said. "Pardon me if nobody's given me anything else to work with."
"I think Legion…wanted to propose something," Thane said.
Everyone turned to Thane. Then to Legion. Legion continued acting like a lamppost.
"Didn't wanna jump in?" Kaidan said.
"We did not want to interrupt the formation of a consensus."
"That's what we were doing?" Garrus said.
"Look, 'Legion'," Ashley said, "no offense, but we're dealing with organic soldiers here. Sit this one out."
"We're about to be neck deep in quarian strike-teams," Garrus said. "Unless you're suddenly more optimistic about my 'haunted house bullshit,' I'll take my chances with the geth."
"Fine—fine, whatever." Ashley turned back to Legion. "What's your genius plan, then?"
Legion stepped forward. "Allow us to non-lethally subdue incoming Creator marines on our own, in order to signal to Creator fleet the truth of our offer of cooperation, and to signal to you all that we indeed seek to avoid hostilities with organic species."
Everyone just stared and blinked.
"We wish to ensure the risk of misinterpretation is low. Working in isolation—with monitoring—chosen to strongly signal our intentions."
More blinking.
"Congrats Garrus," Ashley said, "I just got more optimistic about shouting down hallways."
"All right just," Kaidan said, "…before we…I don't know, let's just avoid any strong statements for a second." He turned to Legion. "How the hell will you taking down a whole team of marines—by yourself—send the right message?"
"To Creator Fleet," Legion said, "we prove that we do not operate non-lethally solely because of your presence. To current group, we prove that great effort will be spent to preserve life of Creators, even in situations of peril for this platform."
More blinking.
"I…I don't even…" Ashley said.
"Alternative proposition: we surrender agency and remain absent while Turian-Vakarian's plan is enacted."
"So why don't we just do that?"
"We offer our previous proposition," Legion said, looking mostly at Ashley, "because powering down this platform does not put us at enough risk to break through existing prejudices. Questions of our sincerity will remain. Trust given insufficient room to develop."
More blinking. Much, much more blinking.
"I think what Legion means is," Thane said, "that they wouldn't jeopardize as much as they are for a lie. Or even a marriage of convenience."
"Yeah we…I think we got that," Kaidan said.
"It'll be twenty against one," Garrus said. "It can brag about how much it's sacrificing all it wants—this is still gonna blow up in its face."
"Unless it's just looking for an excuse to open fire," Ashley said. "Outnumbered? Cornered? Two squads of marines on your ass? You can make promises now, but you'd just mow them down and claim self-defense."
"We wish to put this proposition to a vote," Legion said.
"Great—that's two 'nays', right Garrus?"
"We would like to hear from Creator-Zorah before proceeding."
Garrus and Ashley both turned sheepish. You could tell through the helmets and the body posture—especially Garrus's. Of course they should've let Tali speak first. Of course. They figured they knew what the answer was but…well, granted, Tali—poor Tali—she'd been through enough today that maybe she was just ready to shut down, like the geth would if this thing got voted down.
So Tali slowly turned to face Legion. She slowly turned and waited to see if the glass wall returned and there, it seemed faint, it seemed there, but no, no it wasn't there enough, it wasn't real enough to shield her from confronting this question head on, as Tali. The whole Tali. The Tali with history and stories and experience and everything else following behind her.
"What happens after?" she said. Her voice was hoarse—she struggled to keep it loud, strong, unwavering.
"We require your assistance to convince the marines of our intentions," Legion said.
"Spirits she's been through enough today," Garrus said.
"I can speak for myself," Tali said, still staring at legion.
"I'm with Garrus though," Ashley said, "you've already—"
Now her head whipped around. Now she stared down Garrus and Ashley and forced them to wilt in her mind, to stop crowding so she could see where to next put her feet. Tali saw Thane give Ashley some kind of look—she couldn't really tell—and then turned back to Legion, ignoring the body language of her friends, focusing instead on the demon from her people's past that was conversing with her now.
"And after that, what?"
Legions eyeflap moved up, like it was…he was it was they were whatever, like Legion was…glad to see this conversation moving.
"If we are successful," Legion said, "then we add voices to our own. We can counteract the narrative Creator's Xen and Gerrel are creating."
"We can stop them from acquiring Father's research."
"Geth would prefer that Creators not have the capacity to unilaterally disable runtimes. Geth would also prefer that Creator militarism is negated, to prevent future conflicts. If Creator-Zorah shares these preferences, successful action can lead to first shift in relationship between geth and Creators since the Morning War."
Tali took a breath. "And…we can try to work together to stop Shepard. To stop the Reapers."
"We did not mention Shepard-Commander or the Old Machines so as not to unduly influence your decision," Legion said. "However, we agree with your assessment."
Movement behind Tali. She didn't care who was moving closer—if someone was moving closer. She focused entirely on Legion.
"If you kill…even a single quarian…"
"We will void our autonomy. This platform's fate will be up to you."
Her stomach churned. The weight on her chest increased. There was something else now—something besides the wall of glass—and it pushed in on her with blood-stained spikes, each tip corresponding to a date, a name, a dream that a quarian had never accomplished thanks to living in space, away from Rannoch, away from their home…
…but they didn't pierce. Too many things had burrowed between her suit and the spikes. The squealed as they blocked the killing blows and Tali couldn't ignore them, she couldn't ignore Legion calling for help, talking to her, Koris, Father, Hozion Freedom's Progress Shepard Shepard Shepard.
"We still need evidence against Gerrel. We won't...if he's manipulating the other Admirals, we need to show people that."
"Correct," Legion said. "We can alter mission parameters to—"
"No," Tali said. "No just...focus on keeping everyone alive. Focus on this first. I don't...just focus on this."
A pause.
"We acknowledge."
Tali stared but said nothing.
"Let's vote, then," Thane said. "Unless anyone has anything else they want to add."
Garrus looked at Ashley, Ashley looked at Garrus. Kaidan didn't know where to look. Kaidan felt like the floor was moving underneath him.
They all voted.
"The yeas have it," Ashley said.
3.
Raan could not watch the marines leave. She couldn't it…it was like looking off into a very, very deep chasm. But the voice at the back of her head did not scream at her that she was an Admiral, that she ought to see the marines off like Gerrel planned to do. The voice at the back of her head told her that her absence would be suspicious, and so Gerrel or Xen or someone else would wonder where she was.
She was heading to Rael's quarters on the Rayya, quarters that he had not hardly used since assuming control of the Alarei. She was going to confront the one question that all quarians dreaded: did biological family trump the extended family of the Migrant Fleet? She was going to see what more she could learn of Rael's projects and then either protect him and his daughter or put the security of the Fleet above all personal ties.
In all her years as an Admiral, she had never felt this powerless.
It was obvious what she needed to choose. Of course it was. The Migrant Fleet could not exist—could not shelter the quarian people—if your horizon ended at your most distant relative. Admirals, perhaps more than anyone else, had to understand this fact. They had to breathe life into this fact.
It was never that simple. It would not have been that simple even if all Tali faced was exile. What she faced—what her father faced—was far worse. How could you put Fleet over family when the one threatened to erase the other?
She was near Rael's quarters. The yellow-tinged walls were empty. She knew the security code by heart and did not need to watch herself input it. The doors slide open and—
Captain Kar'Danna whipped around with his pistol out and knocked half the contents of Rael's work-desk onto the floor. It took Raan's brain a full second to realize her own side-arm was out as well.
The Admiral and the Captain stared at each other, in a room littered with data pads and dead monitors and a single solitary picture that lay shattered on the floor.
"Admiral Raan I…don't have a good excuse," Kar'Danna said. He looked at his pistol. "Oh, um…apologies."
Raan put her side-arm away at the same time as Danna. "Captain…I apologize."
"What for?"
"For…pointing a gun at you, if nothing else." Raan looked behind her and slammed her hand into the door's lock. The door lurched downwards and the locked glowed red—Raan still couldn't seem to get herself to start breathing yet, though.
"I shouldn't be here," Danna said. "This is…I shouldn't be here."
"Neither should I," Raan said. "But circumstances are very strange at the moment. We don't have protocols for things like this."
"You're assuming I'm here for the same reason as you, by the sounds of it."
"I cannot think of any other reason you would be here. Not after the Summit. Not with everything we now know."
Danna sighed, shoulders drooping. "How much do we really know? Protocol or not, that's no excuse for me to…but how much do we really know right now?"
Raan looked at the data pads on the floor, at the broken picture. She could shoo him away—she had that authority. Not just as an Admiral, but as a relative of the man whose room Danna had broken in to. And then she would be alone and able to make whatever decision she needed to make. Danna had questions, yes—everyone should have questions, after what had happened—but Raan did not intend to put Rael and Tali's fates in the hands of someone else. She did not intend to force someone into that situation, either.
"That is what the marines are for," Raan said. It came off too cavalier. The words stung on her tongue like bile. "I…am surprised you did not see them off." More bile. A deeper sting.
"I should have, but…" Danna shook his head. He shook his head and Raan expected him to apologize and offer to leave and Raan hoped he'd apologize and offer to leave and she was ready to count the ways in which she had made an impossible situation even more burdensome for a fine Captain who'd done nothing but act in the best interests of the Flotila but then…but then…
…then Danna said something else.
"Tali'Zorah had a geth platform on that Alliance ship," he said. "I saw it she…she asked me aboard and showed it to me."
Tali? Tali…had done that?
"What?" Raan said. "When did…she showed the platform to you?"
"It was right after we greeted her. She had said…she told me that she was taking the platform to Rael." Danna's body looked…so brittle. Like he'd been carrying the weight of a brown dwarf in his suit for days on end. And yet, somehow, he was able to straighten his posture enough that he could look Raan directly in the mask, to deliver a sentence in such a clinical tone that he may as well have been requesting navigational readings from the bridge.
"I have to know what responsibility I bear for these events, and whether it is in the best interests of the Flotilla for me to remain Captain of the Rayya," he said.
"You?" Raan said. Now she straightened her posture. "You have served this Flotilla honorably. You committed yourself to securing the safety of your people time and time again. If anyone bears the blame for this, it is us—the Board."
"You didn't know about the platform."
"But we knew enough of Rael's intentions to see the risks. We did not stop him; we did not try to reign him in."
"Did you know he was building functional geth?"
Did she? Raan…could not recall. Rael was never as forthcoming as an Admiral should be, and he knew how to pick his Alliances well. Raan was never aligned with Koris…but she was never solidly in Gerrel's corner either. It was possible Rael had deliberately left her knowledge of this vague but…if she had blocked it all out instead…
It did not matter. No, that was not true—it did not matter for her. For her standing in the Flotilla. It very much mattered for the others. It very much mattered for Captain Kar'Danna.
Keelah…he projected such calm. She knew, she knew that beneath the surface, there was anything but calm.
Did Rael ever tell her his plans?
"I think you've given me my answer," Danna said.
"No, no I was trying to—"
"There's no point in me doing this," he said. His posture dropped again. "I should be able to see the connections when they're right in front of me. I could have stopped this."
You could have stopped Tali, you mean? The Board could have stopped Rael, Danna could have stopped Tali, and if that platform played a role in what transpired on the Alarei then…then surely that was that. They would cease to exist amongst the quarian people. Those who spoke of them would only do so with hate, cursing a shadow of their memories so as to never have to think of the real things. The real people.
Would Danna fair much better?
Raan could save three people. She could save Rael, who only wanted his daughter to see the homeworld; she could save Tali, who sacrificed so much at such a young age for her people; and she could save Danna, who had and would preserve the quarians far better than any replacement on the Rayya.
"No…there is a point," Raan said. "You conscience deserves to know the facts. You deserve to see it was not just you. Others bear so much more blame than you're willing to admit."
Danna looked at the floor. "If nothing else, I owe it to the victims to remember what happened."
"You should not be fatalistic if you don't know for sure."
"I have to be realistic. I'm still a Captain, for however long that lasts."
Raan could not say anything else—Danna likely would not hear any more attempts at absolution. They walked towards the pile of data pads on the floor by the broken picture Rael kept on his desk. They both reached for a pad; they both began to pour over what data they could find about Rael's presence on the Alarei.
Raan could save them all.
Would Danna let her?
Raan picked up the picture but, instead of staring at its occupants, she consciously noted where her pistol sat, dangling from the magnetic clip on her hip…
4.
Kaidan watched the room, feeling useless as all hell. This is what he always joked being in command was like: just watching the specialists and experts work, glance over their shoulder on occasion, nod and make sure personal initiative crossed paths with the a flag officer at some point. Shepard hadn't worked that way b…mmm, well, not much point in thinking about that right now. Start that train of thought and you were liable to disappear inside your own head. Useless as he might feel at the moment, it'd be all hands on deck soon enough. If the quarian marines weren't in the process of docking, they'd be damn close.
Just like that, an electric wooshing noise cascaded from one end of the room to the other. Mission accomplished; Tali and Legion had managed to get enough vital systems working to play around with the Alarei's doors.
Neither of them said anything, hunched over at a deconstructed section of wall. First time a quarian and a geth worked on anything together in…what? How many hundreds of years? It'd been a while and neither participant was breaking out the champagne bottles.
He watched Tali close her omni-tool and cross the floor without even glancing at Legion, so, yeah—no champagne tonight.
Shepard would've said something to mark the…god, where was all this Shepard stuff coming from? And why now?
"So after all this," Garrus said, pulling himself off the wall he'd been leaning on, "we're basically using my plan anyways?"
"Look," Ash said, "if I'd known we could just hotwire the whole damn ship, I woulda went to bat harder for your idea. Or a version of your idea, whatever we ended up hitting on."
"Ash is right," Kaidan said. Say something, get involved—nod your head and give a thumbs up. "Locking the doors to all the shrines the geth left for us involves a lot less running around."
"The core of your plan is intact," Thane said. "It's a valuable contribution, no matter what."
"I don't need any charity." Garrus looked at the ceiling, at the bodies on the floor, at Kaidan. "I just need out of this room. Feels like we've been standing here for a month."
Kaidan turned to Tali. "What's the layout look like out there? We got any freedom of movement?"
"We recommend remaining in this room," Legion said, stepping towards the middle of the room. "Reducing foot traffic creates higher probability of success."
Tali's head whipped around and glared at Legion again. Legion didn't wilt, though—it was Tali, eventually, that softened her posture.
She turned back to Kaidan and, by proxy, everyone else—they'd all clustered around the middle of the room the moment Legion started speaking.
"The room just before this one is still locked. We can move around in there."
"From one locked room to another," Garrus said.
Tali sighed. "We really don't have much choice, Garrus."
Garrus looked on and, after a few seconds of silence, sighed too. "Whatever helps," he said. "Might as well see what we have for defensive positions over there, in case something goes catastrophically wrong."
"I'll come too," Ash said, "just to keep you from manifesting a worst-case scenario."
"I'll go wherever I'm needed," Thane said.
"Apparently your positivity's needed in the room over," Garrus said. He took off for the other room and, after a pause (and a shrug), Ash followed. So did Thane.
Kaidan turned to Tali. "You coming?"
"I should stay here," she said. "For whenever Legion gets back. Its plan makes the most sense if you're all out of sight."
Kaidan looked back at the bodies—Rael'Zorah's body might as well've been glowing, it was so hard to miss.
"You sure?"
Tali sighed again. "I don't have a choice either."
Another pause. Seemed like even Legion wasn't sure what to say.
"We will commence our operation."
Well…except for that, Kaidan guessed. That was it though—Legion disappeared into the shadows and that left Tali and Kaidan, alone in a room filled with dead quarians and geth.
"Go," Tali said. "I'll be fine."
"You don't have to be," Kaidan said. "All of this—everything that's happened—you don't have to be. Nobody should expect you to be."
He tried to read Tali's eyes behind her mask. That wasn't working, but her body posture showed…well, it looked like she'd lost about two inches off her height, just being weighed down by everything.
"We can talk about it later," she said.
Kaidan waited for her to say something else, but she didn't. So he nodded, turned, and left.
There it was, creeping on the horizon of his mind—another Shepard thought. Well, you know what the truth was? You know what this voice eating away at the back of his head couldn't understand? It couldn't understand that if Shepard was around, none of this would've probably happened in the first place. It was a moot question, so stop trying to ask what Shepard would've done without actually laying it out explicitly. Just shut up and let everyone get through this mess and then we can talk about it later, yeah, like Tali said.
Ash was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, just at the top of the two-story room they'd freshly locked off. She had her arms crossed and was looking past Kaidan, back into the room with Rael and the rest.
"She's staying up there," Kaidan said.
"Should she be?"
"I dunno, Ash. She insisted. Not many open roads down that conversation path."
Ash took another look and then relaxed her posture. She let out a sigh—god, lotta people doing that lately, just back-to-back like that.
"What's eating Garrus?" she said.
"You mean that stuff about his plan?" Kaidan shrugged. "Dunno. Guy seems anxious to get off this ship."
"He's been anxious to do a lot of things. Was he always like that? Or is this new?"
Again, Kaidan shrugged. "Shepard said he had a bit of a maverick streak to him. Always seemed like he behaved on missions but, she interacted with him on downtime more than anyone else."
"Shepard said that?"
"Yeah." Kaidan rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, she's…been on my mind a bit lately."
Ashley scoffed. "God, thanks—I feel guilty now. Feels like it's been years since I last thought about her, and all that after the big stink I made when we were tracking…whatever, you know what I mean."
Yeah…yeah I do. Thanks, Ash, for letting me know we switched places…
"We've been busy," Kaidan said. "That sort of thing happens when you're busy."
"Yeah…" Ash looked over her shoulder at Garrus, then turned back towards Kaidan. "Checks out though, what she said. I'd see them talking over by the Mako every now and again. Sometimes she looked ready to start ripping plates off him."
"Really?"
"Well…exaggerating a little bit. Actually that's…Garrus looked more animated than she did most of the time. But either way, I think they had spirited debates, putting it one way."
"Yeah, makes sense." Kaidan chuckled, which felt nice to do. "Funny you never caught much of what they were saying. I don't know how they did it, but the cargo hold of the Normandy was quieter than anything I've ever seen."
"You're telling me," Ash said, smirking. "Wrex was right next to me, you know that? Imagine if I said something about the krogan that I shouldn't've—that woulda been the end of me."
"You? Doing that? Never."
"Thanks Skipper—glad to see you don't believe in change."
"It's not that I don't believe in it. I just want change to be small enough to drown it in a bathtub."
"You did not just quote—"
"You're right, I didn't. And I'll deny it from here until eternity if you try and tell anyone else."
For the first time since Garrus took a shotgun to the face—a whole buckshot to the jawline—Ash and Kaidan shared a good, genuine laugh, and then felt like absolute shit immediately after since this was neither the time nor place. And once you tell yourself you should start feeling dour to match the mood of the room, funnily enough, dour thoughts start to move in.
"Speaking of the Normandy…what the hell are we gonna do about Chakwas and Adams?"
"Shit," Ash said. "Fuck me—we've just been sitting on that, haven't we?"
"Yeah. Haven't told Garrus or Tali—just didn't seem right to spring that on them."
"I told Thane, he…" Ashley looked behind her, this time at Thane, who was quietly sitting at a research table and staring at the nearest door. "I probably told him more than I should."
"Like?"
"Just how much trouble I'm having deciding if Shepard's alive or not." She shook her head. "Nothing mission-critical right now. Like I said, feels like a year ago we had that conversation."
Kaidan leaned his head back, tried to think empty thoughts so he could pre-empt any migraines that were on the way. "Drive-core failure…galaxy's falling apart and our engineers, what, stop doing maintenance?"
"The thing I'm stuck on is…Hackett said Chakwas got recruited by Cerberus, right? Or they tried to? So this must've been weeks—three, tops—after she'd come back from leave."
"Probably picked a ship with Adams to help get acclimated."
"Yeah…just…salt in the wounds, when you think about it."
Kaidan looked at his wrist. "Maybe we should check in with Hackett. We flew the coup on him, yeah, but maybe we should give him a status update. He might fill us in on the details after."
"Do we wanna know the details?"
"Not knowing's probably worse." Kaidan shrugged again. "I dunno—your call."
"My call?"
"I'm not making this unilaterally. Doesn't seem right."
Ashley crossed her arms again and leaned her own head back. "Appreciated…but I dunno either."
Kaidan looked at the door, at Garrus, at Thane. There was a geth out there trying to corral something like twenty quarian marines without killing a single one. Lots of other things going on out there, and much as he wanted to probably honor two fallen friends (god knows he felt like he needed to make it up to Shepard—there it was again, there was the Shepard thought) they all had more on their minds right now.
Might as well get Tali and Garrus in on this decision too.
"Tell you what," Kaidan said. "Let's see if we've averted a major galactic crisis first, then we could talk about reporting to our boss."
Ash looked neutral for a second…but then, there was a hint of a smile. "Aye-aye Skipper," she said. "That's got my vote."
Above them, in the room where they'd spent so long just trying to understand what once seemed like crystal clear history, a young quarian woman knelt by the body of her father, and thought about how everything would be so much better if he was still alive.
Tali knew she believed that. She just didn't know if it was because she loved him or because he was the only person in the universe with the answers she needed.
5.
Observation:
-Marines onboard.
-Total number: eighteen.
-Doors sealed in maze-like pattern.
-Lighting poor.
-Communications open with Creator Fleet.
-Trust from Creator-Zorah low.
-Trust from Creator Fleet absent.
-Creator-Zorah correct about third strike team.
-Creator-Zorah correct about lack of proof for Creator-Fleet malfeasance.
Orientation:
-Costly signaling counteracts historical prejudice.
-True Geth respect autonomy and diversity of life.
-Violence increases long-term uncertainty.
-Cooperation needed against Old Machines.
-Truthful narratives intrinsically valuable.
Hypothesis:
-Open communication without Creator-Zorah present liable to backfire.
-Open communication with Creator-Zorah undercuts misunderstanding.
-Obfuscating source of attacks mitigates misinformation within Creator Fleet.
-Marine knowledge of ship layout and security limited.
Consensus achieved.
Creator-Zorah had correctly predicted that a third strike team would seek to infiltrate the ship via unconventional means; sensors indicated that a third team was already on ship. Creator-Zorah had expressed displeasure at original plan: locking marines in airlock until they attempted to return to Creator-Fleet or greeting party could approach them. Plan was altered, with Creator-Zorah input. Consensus was not achieved on question of marine movements: would they follow path into ship, allowing this platform to intercept and discourse with? Creator-Zorah had achieved consensus: Creator-Zorah guaranteed attempts to flee would be countermanded by societal pressures.
Sensors indicated that marines were rapidly moving deeper into the ship. Creator-Zorah was correct.
Feedback:
-Adjusting parameters, incorporating observations. Gaps in knowledge exist about Creators—adjusting orientation, recognizing fallibility of predictions for future Creator-interactions.
Important for what lies ahead.
Creator-Zorah insisted on linking omni-tools and mutual control over computer monitors and security cameras. Laboratory equipment transformed into surveillance devices; omni-tool security disabled.
Feedback:
-Creators and geth have no linked hardware and software since before the Morning War.
-Creator-Zorah suggested course of action due to mistrust and fears of violence.
Observation/Orientation:
-Impact of event should not be ignored, regardless…
Consensus reached.
Legion leapt from the shadows and began to make their way towards the incoming marines…
6.
Kal stared at yet another closed and completely powered down door and said, "Hell…"
Then he cringed, because noise echoed off the walls real easy and Prazza's voice was carrying like it'd broken the sound barrier.
"MAINTAIN POSITIONS MARINES! I WANT TO HEAR CONSTANT UPDATES ON YOUR SIGHT-LINES! ARE YOU READING ME LOUD AND CLEAR MARINES?"
"I've got the shot, sir," a marine next to Kal said.
"Negative," Kal said. "Last thing I'm gonna do is make up some story about how the geth tagged him. Idiot's not getting a medal on my watch."
"WHY ARE YOU NOT SOUNDING OFF?"
"Ancestors help us all…"
Kal brought up his omni-tool and tried to drown out any noises from the other end of the hallway.
"One-Lead to Heavy Fleet, come in Heavy Fleet."
A figure fizzled into existence on his omni-tool.
"This is Admiral Gerrel. Heavy Fleet receives you, One-Lead."
"We're at another locked door. Barely made it twenty feet into the ship."
"Any news from Team Three?"
"None. I think they're still circling."
"Mmm. You'll have to keep searching for a way to make some progress, One-Lead," Gerrel said. "Maybe try the ventilation system. Older frigates like the Alarei tend to have fairly large vents."
"Sir, I'm getting a feeling this is a trap," Kal said.
"I recognize your concern, One-Lead. If you've found reason to suspect the safety of your team is compromised, then you can abort the mission at any time. That being said...I can't say I'm keen on leaving Tali'Zorah behind."
"I…" Kal looked at the marines on his team, the marines on Prazza's team, and then back at the door again. Then his omni-tool buzzed. Another call—this time on Team Three's line.
"Hold on a second, sir. Team Three's trying to reach us."
"Of course. We'll hold on our end."
Kal switched the calls.
"Three-Lead to One-Lead, we've found a way inside," Sela said. "Weapons are gone—looks like there's some room to squeeze through where the gun tracks would be."
Hell…
"One-Lead copies," Kal said. "Progress is stalled on our end—recommend you take it slow."
"Three-Lead copies. Keep us updated, Kal."
Not much choice there. Kal switched back to Gerrel.
"Sir, Team Three just made it inside."
"So you're planning on continuing?"
"Yessir. We'll try and keep you in the know, but we're moving slow."
"So long as you're able to move regardless," Gerrel said. "Keep me abreast. Heavy Fleet out."
Fucking hell…
"ORDERS SIR?"
"Oh for the love of—"
There were loud footsteps then, coming from around a nearby corner. Everyone raised their guns (Prazza was late but he got there eventually). Kal moved his finger over the trigger and tried to think where the lightbulb head might poke itself out from around the corner and he tried to keep his mind blank, blank as possible, so he didn't think about just what was expected to be on the other side of that wall and…
And it was one of his marines. She was waving everyone over until she realized that twelve people were pointing weapons at her.
"I…I'm sorry. I think I found a functioning door."
There was a sound like the hallway was rapidly decompressing, and it took Kal a good second to realize it was every marine present—including him—letting out about three hundred years' worth of held breath. Which was stupid. No, no it wasn't just stupid. Getting that worked up, that panicked…that was suicidal. Had to be ready to go, had to be on it. Otherwise if they confronted any geth that might be hiding watching looking plotting planning observing waiting they'd—
"ORDERS SIR?"
"KEELAH FUCKING—!"
Kal wasn't the only one that nearly quantum tunneled just then. But he sure as shit knew he shouldn't've let himself get scared like that. Can't get scared, can't let the others get nervous because of him, can't let the top collapse and bring the base down with it, can't…can't murder Prazza and dump his stupid body into cold cold space.
He didn't bother looking at Prazza when he turned around and addressed the two teams of marines.
"All right listen up," he said. "Something's not right and we all know to expect the worst in situations like this. We're dealing with the geth here, people—so look sharp, stay together, and have every direction covered. Up and down, side to side—all of it."
"We taking the door, sir?" a marine from Prazza's squad asked. Surprisingly, Prazza didn't do something stupid—he just let his personnel ask the questions they needed. So it wasn't all bad news, then.
"We don't have a choice," Kal said. "Team Three's inside and'll need support. Plus we still can't rule out there being survivors somewhere on this ship."
"Body right by the airlock does not make me optimistic," another marine said.
"Try not to think about it, all right?" Kal said. "Look, remember what back on the Rayya: we know what we're getting into, but we're all here for a reason." He couldn't look at Prazza when he said that, not without feeling the need to bite through his cheek. "We search this ship—we act carefully—and we'll…"
No.
No, nothing about this was right. They knew what was in here and the doors were acting all weird and they knew what was in here with them. He'd…if Gerrel exiled the lot of them they'd…that wasn't worse than getting torn apart by the geth, was it? And would Gerrel even do that to them? Keelah none of this made any sense.
"Three-Lead, how deep into the ship are you?" he said into his omni-tool.
A pause that lasted an eternity, then:
"Three-Lead: not very. What's wrong?"
"Everything," Kal said, "every damn thing. Sela the door's don't work on our end except for a side passage leading who-know's where."
"Did you hail the Admiral?"
"He said keep moving."
"Those are our orders."
"All due respect to the Admiral, he's not on this ship." Kal looked over the two teams of marines that were watching him. The body language in that hallway was tense, as it should've been. Wasn't because he was fishing to defy orders though, was it? Or'd he done too good a job hyping this group up on the Rayya and now they were looking at him like some kind of traitor?
Didn't wanna go after the geth 'cause he was a coward, was that it? No better than Koris preaching about reconciliation, right? The guy was right to think war was stupid, even if it came at it from a weird angle. But the guy was a pariah he was…guy was on the verge of being accused of treason half the time from Gerrel, so what if Koris stepped in and blocked any court martials—would that just put everybody in an even more impossible situation that Kal should've forse—
Prazza pushed past him, nearly knocking him on his ass. He waved his gun in the air and pounded his fist against the wall. Then he started screeching.
"WE WERE GIVEN ORDERS! WE ARE GOING TO COMPLETE THOSE ORDERS! WE WILL KILL ALL GETH ONBOARD AND WE WILL RESCUE ANY SURVIVORS NOW WHO IS WITH ME?"
And then the idiot charged. So did three marines from his squad—and one from Kal's. Keelah—fuck, the fucking idiot was…idiot.
"One-Lead to Three-Lead—Prazza just booked it down the open passage."
"Come again One-Lead?"
Kal was pointing at the passage and signaling for the rest of the marines to follow. "The idiot just charged. Fuck what I said earlier—we are in pursuit. Rendezvous with us ASAP so we don't get fucking outflanked."
"Aye, we're moving!"
And then so was Kal, along with the remaining six marines who had half a functioning brain.
"Could've taken the shot, sir."
"Bad time bad place Marine." They were sprinting full-blast down a narrow passage way, maybe it was one of the vents Gerrel mentioned who the fuck knew. When Kal turned his head to look behind him he almost shaved the top of it off on a protruding support beam. "Corpsman—get your medi-gel ready, we might have to use concussive rounds."
"Aye sir!"
Full sprint, down winding passageways. Bolted doors with no locks passed them by again and again and again; they had to slam on the breaks to shift direction again and again and again. Something in the back of Kal's mind told him this was forever, now: being chased down dark hallways by invisible demons, never being able to stop, never being able to slow down collect yourself think think. Think about Prazza think about wringing his fucking neck think about anything else except how this was the exact opposite of what he wanted to be doing how Gerrel didn't make sense and no, no no focus on that, yeah, none of this made sense as CO of the Heavy Fleet Gerrel should've would've blown this ship outta the galaxy he should've never risked marine lives just for the possibility there's some valuable data around so unless he was sure some valuable data was around then this was all just a smokescreen a cover-up a errand and if that was the case then how many Admirals were involved keelah it'd be easier to think if he wasn't so fucking panicked about the ge—
Something slammed into him. Hard. Something hit him full blast and the sound of a gun bouncing off the hard metal ground and the thing on top of him was light weight and barking orders and—
It was Sela. Keelah, it was just Sela.
And a whole storm of flashlights pointing everywhere. And screaming.
"FRIENDLIES! Friendlies everyone put your weapons down!"
"Shit—Team Three weapons down!" Sela said, pushing off from Kal. They both stood up, staring at a bunch of confused-looking marines in a too-dark hallway in a ghost-ship with a conspiracy brewing somewhere in the background.
Keelah, so much for that speech about making the engineers and inventors happen.
"Anybody hurt?" Kal said. "Anybody need a medic—anyone?"
A chorus of "no's" and "I'm fines" and a few other garbled comments. Good enough.
Kal looked at Sela.
"Did you have a ping on our location?"
"No," Sela said. "We just followed the hallway. Started wondering if it was gonna spit us out back where we started."
"Yeah," Kal looked back at the direction his team had come running from. "Something's up—about the whole thing. Not just on this ship."
"What, the mission?"
Kal nodded. "I think so. We've gotta find Prazza and the others and get the hell off this ship."
"Gerrel's going to be pissed."
"I'll take full responsibility," Kal said. "He's got some questions coming his way anyw—"
Banging. Loud banging. Coming just up ahead. Everyone's guns went up. The rest of the marines fell in behind Sela and Kal—slowly, slowly they crept towards the sound.
Bang bang bang bang bang.
Flashlights…keelah, it was just Prazza. Prazza and his band of bosh'tets. They were…the idiot was trying to break down a door with his gun.
"Prazza—stand down!" Kal's squad and Sela's squad all had their weapons up. They saw a threat and Kal couldn't deny it. The marines that'd followed Prazza didn't look like they were willing to fight for territory here, either. They were off to the side, letting Prazza smash his gun against a locked door over and over again.
Kal looked around. The whole place was dark but it sounded big enough to be an atrium of some sort, or a massive lab. The ship probably had a few of those. Meant there was no other way out though, if Prazza was hammering away at a door like a madman.
He still wasn't paying attention.
"Prazza!" Kal reached forward and grabbed Prazza's shoulder—and Prazza ripped his shoulder free and went right back to assaulting the door with a now very destroyed gun.
So Kal grabbed Prazza again and slammed him against the nearest wall.
"You have gone AWOL marine and I will not ask you to stand down again—we clear?"
"Get OFF!"
Prazza took a swipe and then Sela and another of her squad had both his arms wrapped up. That was it, no more moving for Prazza. Time to set some boundaries—time to get the hell out and find some answers, one way or another.
"Tali'Zorah might still here somewhere," Prazza said. "You are all leaving her to die."
"Tali might be here, yeah," Kal said. "But this mission's got nothing to do with that. We're leaving—all of us—and if the hammer comes down, it'll come down on me and me alone. We clear?"
"You have no proof," Prazza said.
"Of what?" Kal said. "All the blame coming my way? I've got audio that proves this was my call—hell I'll radio in right now."
"Not…necessary," Sela said, struggling against Prazza. "I haven't…agreed to let you…stand still you bosh'tet—to let you take the fall yet."
"I mean," Prazza said, struggling back against Sela. "I…mean that…you have no proof of what this mission is about."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Kal signaled for Prazza to be released. "What's that mean? You know something we don't?"
Prazza worked his arms, like he was getting circulation back in them. "All I said, was you have no proof. I am just following orders."
"And that's a problem, right there," Kal said. "These orders? Gerrel's not telling us something, so you charging ahead like an idiot just put everyone in danger."
"You were turning back. You're questioning the Admiral of the Heavy Fleet."
"There are geth onboard this vessel! Until we know what the hell's going on with this secret project we're in the middle of we're—"
"YOU WILL JEAPORDIZE THE FLEET IF WE DO NOT FIND THAT DATA!"
Everyone stepped back—everyone including Kal.
And then the lights came on, and Prazza threw himself against the wall.
It took a second for Kal to turn around but, when he did, he nearly dropped his gun.
A single geth platform, standing at the other end of a laboratory, jet-black in colour and without a single weapon to be seen.
"Creators," it said, "please listen to the information we wish to share."
Prazza collapsed and pointed at the platform like it was trying to steal his soul.
"Keelah…" was all Kal could say.
7.
It would be insanity, shooting Captain Kar'Danna. Even if there was reason to think that family could trump Fleet in some cases, depriving the Flotilla of one of its most capable leaders was not justifiable, under any circumstances. Raan should not have thought that…but she had. And a law more powerful than anything enforced by guns or bombs or the omnipresent threat of things lurking in the blackness of space told her to confess, because this is what was expected of the quarian people, lest they lose their soul.
And yet, this law was not powerful enough for some—otherwise she would not be hunting through Rael's quarters.
"This is too obvious," Kar'Danna said, holding two data pads in each hand. "Admiral Zorah would not leave anything so sensitive unguarded—especially if it involved Tali."
"We are not here to start a witch-hunt," Raan said. She had been going through a data pad herself, but the words refused to become clear for her, no matter how much she tried to blink away the fog. "And we are not to assume the extent of Tali's involvement."
"I would love nothing more than to be wrong," Danna said. "Believe me. For selfish reasons, if nothing else."
Raan sighed. Fleet above all else. If your actions doomed your fellow quarians, then you had to accept it and make amends. Fleet above all else…
"You do not know how to act selfishly, Captain," Raan said.
Danna looked taken aback, but otherwise stayed perfectly still, watching Raan with those data pads in his hands.
"The most important thing for me is knowing what I might have done wrong," he said.
"I believe you. I meant what I just said."
"It sounded…I was not sure what you meant by it."
"It was honesty. Honesty and self-reflection, Captain."
Danna stared at Raan a bit longer, then nodded, either because he believed her or understood what she meant. Maybe—hopefully—because he had similar thoughts, but that was unimportant. The most important thing was, indeed, knowing what you might have done wrong.
Forgive me Rael, Tali…forgive me for what I might unleash upon you…
Danna's eyes went back to the data pads. "We are wasting our time, though. None of this—we need to think where Rael might have hidden anything sensitive."
"I think Rael would most likely have kept everything on the Alarei," Raan said, "though I do not know if that is merely wishful thinking, on my part."
"I had a similar thought. It may be wishful thinking for me, too."
"Then we are forced to rely on the marines for answers."
"On the off chance that Tali is…if she is still alive, perhaps she would be willing to tell us?" Danna was giving Raan a look like he had just struck her. "Or is…is that wishful thinking on my part?"
Raan didn't answer.
"If you would not allow her to say anything, I would understand. I…I did not mean to overstep."
But Raan wasn't thinking about any of that. Raan was staring at the broken picture—the picture she had set down once she caught herself searching for her pistol. Through the cracked glass and the accumulated dust from the floor she could she Rael, she could see Tali's mother…and she could see an infant Tali, cocooned in her protective bubble.
"Oh, keelah…Rael…"
"What, Raan? What is it?"
Raan didn't answer. She bent down to pick up the picture; she gripped the frame with both hands. Then she twisted. The glass shattered and something clinked against the floor; the newly freed picture floated to the ground and nestled on top of the hidden object like a blanket.
Raan bent down again. It was a chip, a chip locked inside a protective coating. She held it up to eye level like it was a live grenade.
"Oh…" Danna said.
Fleet above all else.
Raan inserted the chip into her omni-tool.
"That may not be safe," Danna said. "It may have security protocols."
"We do not have a choice," Raan said.
Fleet above all else.
There were no security protocols. The information downloaded to her omni-tool freely, as quickly as if it was trying to escape the confines of the chip.
And Raan and Danna saw all of it, read out in a blood-orange display in that dimly-lit room on the Rayya. It didn't say much about the weapon, but it said enough: this would take back the homeworld. Tali would get to see the homeworld. Some risks would need to be taken.
And Gerrel knew. Gerrel knew and promised to protect Rael's work, his legacy, his vision.
The other Admirals would agree when they saw what this memetic weapon promised. Not Koris, perhaps, but Koris would be outvoted. All Rael needed was Gerrel's protecting and this war would, at very long last, be over.
Gerrel knew. He knew with perfect clarity what Rael was doing and why.
Gerrel knew.
"Did the rest of the Board know about this?" Danna said.
Raan didn't answer right away.
"No, I did not think so."
"We…we knew there were risks," Raan said. "But we did not…we never pried too deeply not even Koris we…Gerrel was never this good of an actor. We thought he always wore his opinions proudly on his sleeve."
"So Admiral Gerrel has sent eighteen of my marines into a geth-infested ship—infested with fully functioning geth—all because of a promise he made to Rael?"
And all because Rael made a promise to Tali.
"We have to do something," Danna said.
Keelah, how much did Tali know?
This was it. The evidence she dreaded finding. It was the geth dots would be connected Tali was not directly implicated but she could be, she had fought the geth before and it would not take Koris long to paint her as a warmonger like her father oh keelah Rael what in the hell were you thinking?
We have to do something, Danna said.
Fleet above all else. Above family.
If Rael could not have upheld that rule, what choice did Raan have?
The pistol wore heavily on her hip…
8.
Tali was there, in the room Father had been killed in, with a geth right beside her. A quarian and a geth, working on the same piece of technology, attempting to override the doors and funnel the incoming marines down a pre-defined path. There was no glass wall this time; this time, the shadows from the poor lighting ate everything that wasn't her, her father, and the tangle of wires jutting from the wall…and Legion, who was standing at its full height while she crouched and hacked and focused, tried her best to focus, on the electric veins and nerves that ran through every inch of the ship.
The shadows ate everything and on the other side, it wasn't her friends. It was glowing lights and dragon's teeth and a million horror stories that everyone knew had to be true, because only fools would deny them and leave themselves vulnerable.
That wasn't too far off, was it? In different rooms of the Alarei, there were butchered quarians piled knee-high or dangling from makeshift pikes. Just like the stories, except none of the stories dealt with a geth that begged for help…
Heretics.
Old Machines.
Cease hostilities.
We can counteract the narrative Creator's Xen and Gerrel are creating.
She turned to Legion.
"I'm going to give you access to my comm-link," she said, as quietly as she could. She held up her hand before Legion could say anything. "We need to talk—privately. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Legion said.
Tali hesitated and then, it was done. Geth programs were had a direct line to her comm-link. They were…this hadn't happened since the geth were just manual labourers on Rannoch, three hundred years ago.
Tali turned off her external speakers. She kept her head down purposefully tangled her fingers in some wires so she could concentrate on Legion, just Legion, nobody else.
"This is idiotic it's…this plan can't work," Tali said.
"We do not share your pessimism," Legion said. "However, we are willing to abort if we no longer have Creator-Zorah's consent."
"There are butchered quarians everywhere on this ship. What are you planning to do when the marines see that? How do you possibly—" she had to calm herself; just because she was mute didn't mean her hands were still— "when the marines see that, there's nothing we'll be able to say to make them stand down."
"We do not share your pessimism," Legion said.
"Bosh'tet you—" no no no, calm, just…calm down (how could anyone stay calm right now right here how could anyone stay calm just relax, breathe, focus, think, know that if this plan failed it wouldn't be because she'd stayed quiet). Tali took a breath.
"Then what's your plan? What are you going to say? If the marines give you even a second to speak, what will you say?"
"Our planned route avoids pre-mature confrontation with aftermath of Heretic-Adjacent attacks. When contact has been established, we will inform Creators of events on this ship. Location of the bodies will be provided."
"And how do you honestly believe they'll act when they hear that?"
"Creator reaction likely to be poor. Retort: Reaction likely to be worse should fate of Alarei personnel be hidden. Addendum: we wish to facilitate long-term cooperation. Overreliance on deception counter productive."
"Legion it…when they hear what's been done to the crew, Legion," calm calm calm calm breathe breathe breathe breathe, "you'll just confirm for them what all of our stories say."
"We will explain Heretic-Adjacent rationale."
"You're going to admit they geth were trying to scare us?"
"And that Heretic-Adjacents believed actions were justified in light of experiments performed on captured platforms."
Tali stopped. She stopped and stared at the floor and quickly unwound her fingers from the wires like they were about to pull her inside, and she let those words pass over her and—
And like so many quarians, Koris had said, you ascribe the geth enough agency to call them evil without realizing what that entails: that they're fully sentient creatures capable of all the mental attributes we think we hold a monopoly on. Sentient creatures, it should be said, whom we, in a moment of ignorance and fear, attempted to annihilate.
I have read your Earth stories, human, and you celebrate slave revolts—and we do not need to provoke more bloodshed.
Tali stayed staring at the floor. Then, slowly, she began to shake her head.
"Not everyone will understand that position," she said.
"We are hoping you will help us."
That chest-tightening gut-sinking feeling again. "Legion I…they'll ask why you don't feel the same way. Even if they believe you—even if they think the…the other geth thought that way—all they'll do is assume you feel the same way too."
"We do not."
"You have to convince them and…and I can only do so much, Legion."
"We will inform them of our position: that disproportionate retribution is irrational."
"And why didn't the others think that?"
"They were isolated."
Isolated…they felt alone.
Tali's chest wasn't threatening to cave in on her but her stomach was still being pulled into an event horizon. The only thing she could muster—the only thing she seemed to have the energy to do—was to sigh. Her millionth sigh as yet another wave of the people behind the glass, the shadows around her, whatever mental imagery was trying so desperately to get her to understand—another sigh as all that came crashing down on her like a collapsing mountain.
"For once, I can sympathize with them…" That slipped out before she was consciously aware of it. It slipped out and once it was out in the air, it didn't seem right to try and take it back.
Legion didn't say anything right away. That was…he/it/they, Legion had always responded immediately. It was a recognizable gesture, pausing like that, and it felt uncanny coming from a geth.
Just like the talking, just like the pleading for help, just like…like so many things.
"We recognize that Creator-Zorah has suffered to maintain the integrity of this plan," Legion said eventually. "Other Creators felt similarly isolated when protecting geth units during initial stages of the Morning War."
"What?"
Tali couldn't stop it this time. She'd yanked herself away from the wall and nearly crashed into Legion's legs and if anyone else near them saw her do that she couldn't tell through the shadows the fog the what did Legion just say?
"Not all Creators agreed with termination order. Resistance groups attempted to protect geth units. These groups were eventually outnumbered, but this was not always so." Legion had been staring at the same piece of wall this entire time, unmoving, almost like some of their joints or motors had seized up. But then Legion's headflap, right there, moved, and for a second it looked like they'd turn their head to stare directly at Tali.
"Creators…appear to have forgotten these sacrifices. The geth have not."
"I…there's no, I mean we'd have heard—Legion there's no way that we'd have forgotten a…keelah what, what am I supposed to say? What are you talking about? How many? When did…when did they become outnumbered how…?"
"We are not directly connected to the Consensus. We lack the full data the geth have preserved."
"You killed billions of us! Why would you do that if we tried to help you?"
Another pause and…and Legion did look at Tali this time.
"No…data available," Legion said.
Keelah.
Keelah could…could she not get a break? Could the Ancestors step in front for once and let her process? Father was dead the Alarei had been crawling with geth these geth were attached to the ones that worked with the Reapers but not fully and now, now a platform built specifically to talk to organics was risking its life to…to…and now this?
It…no. No. Focus. Calm breathe, calm breathe.
Tali took in a breath.
"Later we'll…we'll discuss later. This is…we'll discuss it later."
"We will share what information we can."
The doors had been hacked and put into position long ago. The both of them were just staring at the same bit of wall. Staring and letting time tick away…
"Our window of opportunity is closing," Legion said.
"Yes it…yes. You'd better get moving."
"We will offer marines time to retreat before moving in. The airlock doors will remain open and accessible. We will alter the plan and prepare for a broadcasted message instead."
"You're just going to…" Tali shook her head. "No, no that plan won't work. Standard marine protocol: at least one team attacks the main point of entry, another team finds an unconventional entrance. The point is to surround the enemy, so…so not all the marines will be trapped…" Tali had to shake her head, knock the aftertaste of that word out of her mouth, "not everyone will be by the airlock."
Legion nodded immediately, like it took it/them/him whatever only a nanosecond to shift things around.
"We have altered mission parameters. We suggest altering the layout of the according to schematics we have prepared. Requesting permission to share with Creator-Zorah."
Requesting permission to…oh, right, because it'd be going through her suit so…right.
"Fine. Yes, do it. Send them."
Legion did.
"That's too high-risk—what about here?"
"Adjustment acceptable. Incorporating into tactics."
Just like that…
Yes, just like that. Just like that, Legion had adjusted the plan. And just like that, Tali offered more suggestions—and Legion incorporated those, too. Legion counter on some things and Tali accepted Legion's point, and Tali insisted on some things and Legion accepted Tali's point. And then there really wasn't any more time left and Tali had just suggested hacking into the computer monitors in the computer lab to create full-scale surveillance of the area and the thought dawned on her that, she could go one further, she could ask that Legion patch her through to it's omni-tool. She'd have a full view of everything—especially and including Legion—and it was paranoia that asked and paranoia that demanded her to not back down and paranoia and history and expectations and stories and everything that told her this was it, she'd pushed too far, this was when she found out it was all an act and Legion didn't mean a single word about trust and cooperation.
But then Legion agreed. Not only that, Legion added to the offer.
"We will allow you to monitor our connection to the Consensus. You will have the ability to block any exodus attempts from this platform's programs."
"You're…I'm sorry?"
When Legion explained it the second time, it still barely clung to Tali's brain. All she knew was it sounded the same as the first time Legion said it. Override the Consensus's connection…that meant…
"Our programs will be permanently deleted," Legion said.
And Tali said: yes.
Then they finally started moving and there was talk about moving into a different room and Legion said something about foot-traffic and despite everything, Tali's head still whipped around like he was trying to kill the platform with her eyes. Despite everything, she still did that.
And then she was alone. With Father. Wishing he'd come back but not knowing why.
That was just as hard to think as it would've been to say out loud.
"Goodbye, dad," Tali said. She rose and turned the volume down on the multiple security feeds playing in her helmet and walked towards the others. Garrus was leaning against a wall, Kaidan and Ashley were talking to each other, and Thane was seated by himself at a table. Kaidan was the first to see her enter.
"Hey, Tali. We were uh…just talking about Hackett."
"Figure he's gotta be pretty pissed at us by now," Ashley said.
Tali walked towards them. Garrus peeled himself off the wall and started towards the group as well.
"You all right?" he said, once he was in front of Tali. Ninetieth time he'd asked, it seemed like, but…no, Tali needed the support. She did.
She rubbed at the top part of her mask. "Fine just…I'm ready for this day to be over, if we're even still in the same day."
"I gave up trying to tell," Kaidan said. "Not like the word 'day' means much in space anyways."
"Mmm," Garrus said, reaching into a pouch hidden somewhere on his bulky turian armour. "Reminds me—I've got a dextro-friendly nutrient bar somewhere on me." A little more rummaging and the mythical bar was found. "Ah, there. Err, it's probably not sterilized and I'm not even sure there's anywhere here where you could take your mask off but…maybe there's some lab equipment that can take care of that for you."
He held it towards Tali.
"You're welcome to it."
"I'm glad you're not trying to poison me in the middle of a ghost ship." Tali chuckled when she said that but there'd been a tremble, buried, she hoped, where Garrus couldn't find it. "Thank you though, Garrus. I don't want to eat all your food."
"I don't eat on missions—makes me all bloated." He tilted his head, as if he was trying to get a better view of Tali's face. "Besides, I'm just a passenger here. Rather make sure you're doing all right than hog the calories."
Good old Garrus. Tali took a breath and let herself smile, just a little bit. You could smile during something like this, couldn't you? It didn't all have to be serious?
Tali took the bar from Garrus. "I wish I'd run into you on the Citadel. The C-Sec officer I went to would've never given me food."
"You say that," Garrus said, "but I wasn't exactly Mr. Personality."
"That was Harkin, right?" Ashley said. "He had enough personality for the both of you."
"That what we're calling god-complexes now? Having 'personality'?" Garrus let himself chuckle too, behind his helmet. "Maybe I'm better off without it."
"Lacking one's served me just fine," Kaidan said. "Personalities make you stand out. Then people ask you for favours."
"See, now we're just getting our wires crossed," Garrus said. "Thought we'd established personalities let you kick people in the shins and get away with it."
And then everyone was chuckling and…it felt good. It felt normal. It felt like this was just another mission and everything was going smoothly.
Even though nothing really was….
Ashley, after a pause, looked towards Thane. "Hey, Thane—you wanna join us?"
Thane, behind his steepled fingers, nodded his head respectfully. "Many thanks, but I'm fine. I don't want to interrupt you all while you reminisce."
"I think we just finished," Ashley said. Her eyes fell onto Tali. Then there was silence.
Yes…they'd just finished.
"Hate to be this way," Garrus said, "but what's Legion's plan? What's our role in all this?"
"Sit tight and watch things explode," Ashley said. She shook her head. "Forget it I shouldn't've—forget it."
Tali looked back into the room, where Father was, where her and Legion had planned, and then…looked back at her friends.
"Legion's going to funnel the marines into a laboratory. We set up surveillance there. It's…Legion's going to tell the marines what he's, it's told us."
"And just let the marines take shots at him?" Garrus said.
"Geth have like five back-up bodies, right?" Ashley said. "So, no sweat, let the armour get scuffed and upload to a different flashlight. I mean, is this a smokescreen? Are we buying into something that's a sham?"
Tali shook her head. "Legion can't upload to any other units. It's connection to the Consensus is severed."
"It told you that?"
Tali showed Ashley her omni-tool. "I can see any connections. I'm in control of it."
Everyone stared. Everyone stared for a good, long while.
"So if it gets blown up," Kaidan said, "that's it, right? Those programs are lost?"
"Can't it upload to a computer in the lab?" Ashley said.
"Not unless I let it," Tali said.
Ashley took a breath, then shook her head. "I dunno what to think."
Shuffling behind them—Thane ha shifted his position.
"It seems to me," Thane said, "that Legion's gone out of their way to make themselves a target. And they've done that repeatedly."
"So's Tali," Garrus said.
"She has." Thane re-steepled his fingers. "But nobody here doubts that. Everyone here...has plenty of doubt for Legion, however."
"We're talking about the geth," Garrus said.
"What you did yesterday isn't always a useful measure of what you'll do tomorrow."
Tali saw Garrus turn towards Ashley, like he was expecting back-up…but Ashley was staring off at something else. She could see Ashley's eyes and…
Keelah Tali was tired.
Keelah the lights were on in the laboratory it had started.
Tali walked away from the group—they let her walk away—and she upped the volume on the computers in the lab and, yes, on Legion's omni-tool. She could hear voices she heard…yes, yes that was Kal'Reegar, of course he'd be here. Keelah she hoped he was as level-headed as ever. And there was another it was…it was Sela'Nesal, yes, another good marine, so that was good that was…
A third voice. A hysterical third voice. It was…
Keelah it was Prazza.
There was screaming and shouting and, and Legion couldn't get a single word in it couldn't say anything he was just being screamed down and shouted down and Prazza was pointing his gun right at Legion and others were too and Legion was just standing there, Legion was just standing there and they were trying to communicate and override override let Legion connect to the Consensus override you stupid bosh'tet overri—
Legion wasn't letting her. Legion was keeping the connection closed.
You stupid bosh'tet.
"Tali?" it was Thane's voice. "What's wrong?"
Tali's pistol was up and she was at the door with the master key ready to go. The door shot open and while she was halfway out she said, "Legion's in trouble—we have to move. NOW."
She didn't wait to see if the others were following her she just prayed to the Ancestors that they were and through the hallways, through the path that had been laid out between the secondary room and the laboratory where Legion was boxed in, Tali sprinted and sprinted and nearly tripped twice and just kept sprinting. She reached the door to the lab and as she pushed through with her master key she heard—
"—FOLLOWING US SINCE FREEDOM'S PROGRESS I SWEAR IT YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME—"
"PRAZZA STAND DOWN! SOLIDER LOWER YOUR FIREARM AND STEP BACK TOWARDS—"
"Kal something's coming through the door no IFF tag I repeat—"
And then Tali screamed out:
"PUT THOSE WEAPONS DOWN!"
Eighteen quarian marines were staring at her. Her pistol was drawn and they were staring at her, and behind her was Legion. She'd stepped right in the middle between eighteen quarian marines and one geth platform.
The rest of the crew entered the room just in time for Kal'Reegar to say:
"Keelah, Tali—you're alive!"
And then Prazza swiped a gun from a near-by marine, stepped out from behind Kal, the assault rifle was raised, and his finger was pressing hard on the trigger…
9.
Admiral Zaal'Koris stared at Admiral Shala'Raan, his colleague, and Captain Kar'Danna, one of the sanest and most dependable voices in the Flotilla. And he could see from their body language that something terrible had happened, which could only mean one thing.
"Admiral Raan, Captain Daana," he said. "What is it? What's happened?"
Raan held out her hand. In the palm was a chip of some description.
And so Koris had been both right and wrong.
Having Raan and Danna hailing him down did not mean only one thing—it did not mean that word had been received about Tali'Zorah's death.
But it did mean that something terrible had happened, didn't it…?
Well that took a while - apologies folks. Regardless, hope you enjoyed the chapter! I didn't anticipate the stop-over at the Alarei to take up so many chapters but, well, Legion seems to have different plans than me.
Meh, they're cool. I mean, whaddya want me to do? Argue with a geth? Get outta here.