Chapter 27: 22nd Century Flotilla Girl
The Alarei
1.
An M-8 Avenger.
A quarian on the verge of a mental breakdown.
A finger squeezing a very sensitive trigger.
A burst of sand-sized metal fragments propelled by tiny mass effect fields.
And Tali, standing in front of all that.
It took Kal'Reegar about three quarters of a second for his brain to process everything and then drive his fist into the side of Prazza's head. By the time the idiot was keeling over, he'd put somewhere in the neighborhood of ten rounds towards the other side of the boxed-in laboratory—towards Tali. And once he'd put Prazza on the floor his brain said: now what?
Now what? Now all he could do was slowly look up and see the damage.
On the other side of the room, Garrus had—in about three quarters of a second—yanked his M-15 Vindicator off his back and had the bastard quarian's head tracked, it was there in the sights and Garrus followed it all the way to the ground. The other quarian had put him down but so far as he knew, everyone was still a threat—that whole side of the room was still a threat. So Garrus's rifle bounced from one head to another and kept his eyes forward, away from the corpse of his friend another friend another friend and if any of you move a damn muscle I'll double the exchange rate, two eyes for an eye two teeth for a tooth.
Ashley? She was doing the same. She had her Vindicator out too and was squeezing her other eye shut, the eye that would've shown Tali's corpse just in her periphery, another person too good for this fucked up universe that got taken down by her own people for Christ's sake.
It was Kaidan and Thane that actually looked. They looked and at the same time, they saw Tali standing—flinching, really, flinching like she expected to get hit in the gut by a torrent of bullets any second, but otherwise standing and surrounded by teal-coloured light.
Kaidan and Thane both saw that and both of them, at the same time, jumped in between the two groups with their hands raised.
Garrus and Ashley finally looked over; they followed Kal'Reegar's visor after Kaidan and Thane jumped in front of them. They looked over at what their brains still thought would be a corpse and saw Tali covered in teal light and Legion bathed in orange from their omni-tool and some of the quarian marines, over on the other side of the lab, were frozen—some stuck reaching for the quarian that had shot at Tali, some holding back the one that had leveled the punch.
Then the shouting started.
"HANDS! SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!"
"—MOVE A FUCKING MUSCLE UNDERSTAND?"
"—THE HELL ARE YOU?"
"—FUCKING GETH RIGHT BEHIND YOU!"
"—IDIOT SHOULDN'T EVEN BE HERE DON'T LOOK AT US!"
"EASY, EVERYONE EASY JUST WATCH THE GUNS!"
"—don't intend anyone any harm, this is all a mis—"
And so on.
For Tali, the teal light surrounding her might as well have been a stasis field. She was still crumpled over—holding a non-existent wound—and straining her eyes upwards, peaking out from under the edge of her hood at her friends and her people pointing weapons at one another. Shouting, inching closer, trapping Thane and Kaidan between a raging wave and two very solid rocks.
The teal light subsided. She turned to Legion.
"Creator-Zorah," they said, "are you unharmed?"
Tali stared. She just…stared, with nothing more than that going on behind her eyes, in her posture—nothing.
She just stared and then, like a wound-up spring snapping from its own tension, whipped around and pulled down Garrus and Ashley's weapons.
"Kal, Sela—everyone. Weapons down—please!"
Garrus almost resisted, but down his gun went. Same with Ashley. Kaidan and Thane froze where they stood, hands still up, palms pointed at either side, like that and that alone would stop the two sides of the room from meeting.
The quarians—her people—were huddled together. Some of them were staring at Kal, some at Prazza. Most were staring at Legion. Their guns were still raised…
…until Kal stepped forward and motion for everyone to lower them.
"Sir you—"
"Just do it, marine," Kal said. No bite to it—he almost sounded…exhausted. The marine that'd spoken hesitated but, eventually, down went his gun. Everyone else's eventually followed.
Just silence then, in that boxed-in lab. Silence…if the glass was going to come back, it would be then.
It didn't. Tali had to face reality all on her own.
No, not all on her own…but the people around her were not a shield. They'd be with her, but whatever happened next would be unfiltered. History and stories and the thoughts that festered in shadows versus a quarian barely two years removed from her Pilgrimage. Keelah…Ancestors give her strength. Or failing that, give Garrus and Ashley and Thane and Kaidan the strength to catch her if she fell.
"Is Prazza unconscious?" she said eventually.
It took Kal a second to realize Tali was speaking to him. He turned to Sela.
"Is he?"
Sela shook her head. "He's mumbling something. I can't make it out, but it's there."
"All right—restrain him and put him in a corner somewhere." As Sela and two of her squad did that, Kal turned back to Tali. "Sorry ma'am. We…should've pulled out before it got this far."
Prazza was finally hauled to his feet. Like someone flipping a switch in his brain, though, he started bucking—twisting and pulling and eventually he started screaming, too.
"IT'S IT! IT'S THE GETH IT'S THE GET FROM THE HUMAN COLONY IT IS HERE TO KILL US ALL YOU HAVE TO KILL IT KILL IT NOW KILL IT—!"
"Keelah tranq him," Kal said. "Before the idiot chokes on his own tong—"
"Wait," Tali said. And everyone did—even Prazza, who stopped screaming but was still twisting against the marines holding him. So Tali took a breath. She took a breath…and closed her eyes, just for a second.
"Prazza is right. This is the platform from Freedom's Progress." She turned to Legion, then back to Kal. "It's…name is Legion, and it is not a threat."
Prazza was still struggling…but even he looked as though his attention was firmly, immovably on Tali now.
Tali looked at Garrus. She looked at Ashley. She looked at Kaidan, then at Thane. And she looked back at Legion, who was standing stoically behind her, as massive shape with shiny black armour and a light on its head that had burned nightmares into quarian minds for what might as well have been an eternity. Some part of her wanted to rebel against what she'd just said…but it was only a small part. The rest of her had listened to the words that left her mouth and did nothing, maybe even accepting. No glass, no visions of imagined quarians, no voices from Koris—none of that. Just her, the quarian people on one side, a geth on the other, and a statement that, if it didn't ring completely true, at least didn't ring completely false either.
She motioned for Legion to step forward. And Legion did exactly that.
Some of the quarians took a step back. Kal and Sela did not. They just looked at each other and then turned their gaze fully and totally back on Tali.
"Couldn't help but notice, ma'am, that you damn near looked like you were gonna take a bullet for this thing." Kal craned his head slightly, like he was looking for wires or a gun being held to her head…or maybe Legion's head?
"Thanks to Prazza, you basically did," Sela said.
"Yeah, Sela's right—you did." Kal paused, took a breath, then shook his head. "So, you don't mind me asking, but…what is this? A defector? Last geth alive?"
"Did it surrender?" Sela said.
"We haven't passed a single geth corpse—or a quarian one. That wasn't the expectation, going into this thing. So when you say it's not a threat…"
"Legion isn't with the geth on board," Tali said.
"So there are other geth here?" Sela said.
"We have terminated all Heretic-Adjacent programs in vicinity of Creator Fleet," Legion said. A good chunk of the marines flinched.
"Second time it's spoken," Kal said. "Still don't believe it…"
"Slow down a second, though," Sela said. "Heretic-Adjacent? And…whatever those are, you eliminated them? Who and how many, those would be my questions."
Tali took a breath, and then…stepped to the side.
"We'll explain everything." She looked at Legion. "Both of us will."
Then: silence again, save for the sounds of Prazza limply struggling.
Tali and Legion kept their word: they started explaining everything.
Legion explained who the True Geth are, what the heretics wanted, why the latter decided it could no longer co-exist with the former behind the Veil. Tali explained what Sovereign—the Reaper—what its plans were and how it had used the heretics to get everything back on track; then she explained what Legion had said and done on Freedom's Progress, on Horizon—how it all linked back to Shepard. Legion explained why the True Geth wished to extend an offer of cooperation to organics to fight a shared threat, and Tali explained what Legion had done to try and earn their trust since awakening on the Alarei. Legion explained their intentions in leading the marines to this laboratory, and Tali…informed everyone of the bodies that were hidden just beyond the walls.
And then Tali told everyone what Father had been doing on the ship, and Legion explained what the Heretic-Adjacent platforms had told them: why they attacked and what they hoped to gain.
Legion used significantly more words than Tali did. Father was still in that room, still dead, still nothing more than memories and stories. She knew the truth had to come out…but she also knew she was stabbing what was left of her dad with something far more painful than a makeshift dragon's tooth pike.
"And…and the only other thing we know is that Admiral Gerrel should believe that we're all dead, but he still pushed to send another strike team aboard. He still pushed to send you. So…so we think Gerrel wants Father's weapon, and he wants it to…"
She looked at Legion.
"Creator-Gerrel intends to engage us in a large-scale conflict in the near-future," Legion said. "We do not wish to fight Creators, and we do not wish to weaken them in advance of Old Machine's return."
"And…we shouldn't either. Not…not with the Reapers on the way."
And, then, silence again.
Nobody had interrupted them…but it was impossible to tell how many were actually listening, wasn't it? How many marines had a wall—not a glass one, a wall as opaque and impenetrable as the hull of a Liveship—right in front of them, and everything Tali had…and Legion, everything Tali and Legion had said, simply bounced off it like so much debris?
Well…Tali couldn't know that. But she knew Kal had been listening—Kal and by the looks of it, Sela too. The others—Garrus, Ashley, Kaidan, Thane, Legion probably—they wouldn't have been able to tell. But if you knew what to look for in a quarian's body language, you could tell—you could tell that what you had said to them landed.
Tali took another breath.
"I…know how hard it is for any of you to believe this. I know how many different things are screaming at you that this is a trick, that…that I've been compromised o-or I've gone insane. But…but just think about this, for as long as it takes. Think about what I—we've said. I could have blamed everything that happened here—every death, every horror, everything—on the geth. Nobody would have doubted me then. But instead…I'm calling my father a war criminal, and I'm siding with something that he'd dedicated his life to destroying."
Another deep breath.
"If you won't believe me about the Reapers…and the heretics…at least believe I wouldn't kill my dad all over again without a reason."
Now, now even Prazza stopped struggling. More silence, somehow even deeper than the last.
And then…
"I saw my whole squad get massacred by these things," Ashley said. "And I sure as hell thought anything with a flashlight for a head would do it all over again if we gave it a chance. But look where I'm standing."
"Make a turian choose between sending a dreadnaught or a diplomat, and they'll choose the dreadnaught every time," Garrus said. "I trust Tali enough to put the guns away. There's nothing stopping you from doing the same."
"I would have been dead many times over if it wasn't for Legion," Thane said. "I don't know what the word of a drell means to you all, but I'm willing to stake my life on their honestly. I owe them that much at least."
"And I don't have anything to add," Kaidan said, "except that enough of you held your fire when Legion showed up to let it get this far."
"Yeah," Kal said. "Noticed that too." He took a breath, looked at Sela, then turned back to Tali. He looked at her—and only her—as…he slowly clasped his gun back on its magnetic holster. "Everything you just said…I haven't even got half the energy necessary to process it. Probably a good bit above my paygrade anyways. But," he cast another glance at Sela, "what you said about Gerrel? That, I can definitely understand. And I know I'm not the only one that felt this whole operation was off."
"Prazza didn't," Sela said. "Frankly, that's suspicious enough on its own."
"That it is." Kal motioned towards the two marines holding Prazza by his arms. They dragged him forward; Tali took that as her cue to move closer to the marines.
Legion started to move too, but Tali waved him off.
Not yet—too fast for that.
Prazza was on his knees—it was like he refused to stand—and he was just…shaking. Top to bottom, he was just shaking and staring at the floor.
The other marines, they weren't comfortable—not by any stretch of the imagination. But they weren't like this; compared to Prazza, they were as calm as statues.
Yes, and compared to them, Prazza…hardly looked like a marine at all.
"Why is Prazza here?" Tali said.
"Asked myself the same question," Kal said. "Funny thing, that: just after the Admiral's finished their Summit, Gerrel contacted me up and told me I'd get one of the three strike teams. Sela and I are Rayya; once we realized Gerrel picked the both of us, we figured the third would be Shano or Zonn. But no, Gerrel nabbed somebody from the Neema." He looked at the rest of the marines. "How many here are from the Neema?"
Nobody raised their hands.
"Weird way to organize a rapid response team," Kal said. "Pick everybody from one ship—the ship you're currently on—except for one of the Team Leads. And the ship your outlier's from just so happens to be the one you spend most of your time in."
"Did you realize all that before you arrived?" Tali said.
"No. Should've but…no." Kal shook his head. "Something was off the moment Gerrel told us to keep going. Pretty cavalier attitude to quarian lives, for somebody who goes on and on about how we're a hull-breach away from extinction."
Kal looked at Prazza. So did Tali. But Prazza's head was still hanging, and he was still mumbling quiet somethings. Kal walked towards Prazza's field of view and then squatted down, about where eye-level would be if Prazza bothered to look up.
"All right," Kal said. "We've said our bit—now it's your turn. Why're you here?"
Nothing.
"I'm not about to start breaking fingers," Kal said, "but understand that I'll throw the book at you when I write up my report. Sela will too, I bet. Hiding behind an Admiral won't save you from exile."
Hiding behind an Admiral…or maybe, it was the other way around?
"What did you tell Admiral Gerrel?" Tali said, still standing. "What did you tell him about Freedom's Progress? That was it, wasn't it? That's why you're here—because you were with me when Legion first appeared."
Prazza's head shot up. Yes, yes that had something to do with it—Tali could clearly see that. And she saw something else, too; something in Prazza's eyes. It looked like…like something you'd see in a trapped animal, something that—oh.
Tali's brain processed what she saw just a tenth of a second late, because Prazza had already yanked his hands and elbowed Kal hard in his visor. Kal went rocketing back and on instinct everybody around him checked for a crack, a suit breach or something. And Tali wasn't close enough to grab Prazza he was heading straight for Legion and please keelah please don't kill him, Legion, don't kill a quarian in front of everyone else or nothing they discussed, nothing that had been said would matter, and…
…and Ashley and Garrus had stepped in front of Prazza, each grabbing him by his arm. And Thane and Kaidan were right behind them, another layer between Prazza and Legion. It…they had him. It was fine. They had him. Legion wouldn't have to defend itself. Good.
Good.
"How 'bout using your words, bud," Ashley said.
"Toss him," Garrus said. "Hard."
Ashley nodded. "Three, two, one."
Both of them heaved and Prazza was flung backwards. His ass ricocheted off the ground and, after a bounce, so did his head. By the time he was done sliding, Prazza was holding his head and groaning; and by that point, Kal had picked himself up.
"I don't see any cracks," Sela said, inspecting his visor.
Kal shook his head. "Dickhead and I are even, then." He looked at Tali. "Guess I should've let you start the interrogation, ma'am."
"It's fine, it's…" No. No none of this was fine. You didn't—you weren't supposed to question an Admiral. But what choice did Tali have? She'd…she'd already had to question one.
Tali sighed, then looked at Prazza.
"Why did Gerrel choose you? You're not a marine—you're not the best engineer on the Neema. I…" She could be gentler than she was going to be but, no, if…if Prazza wasn't going to cooperate, then she would be forceful. She had to be (right?). "I only picked you, Prazza, because very few people thought it worthwhile to find Veetor. Gerrel had all of the Heavy Fleet. So why are you here? What do you gain from this?"
Prazza was sitting, now; sitting and looking…pained. From more than hitting his head on a solid floor, by the looks of it. He looked at Tali and she looked past the hu—no, no this was not the time, this wasn't the time to ignore what other people were feeling if they had to sell the geth—the geth—as being…not a threat. So she saw the hurt in his eyes and clearly, clearly there was something there. Something…
…was that shame?
Prazza, slowly, held out his omni-tool. It glowed orange, ready to show whatever image he had cued up.
"I forced my way on," Prazza said. "I didn't…I didn't know that is what I had done until it was too late to back out, but I forced Admiral Gerrel's hand."
"How?" Tali said. "How did you force his hand?"
Prazza paused, looked the crowd over, focused briefly (like he thought he'd be turned to stone if he lingered too long) on Legion, and then his eyes fell back on Tali.
"I tried to blackmail him," Prazza said. "And…it…backfired, on me."
2.
The way Prazza explained it, everything happened not long after Tali had left the Rayya—again—to rendezvous with the Mars. Her team from Freedom's Progress had dispersed back to their home ships and that was it, no further discussion was to be had. Not with him—not with Prazza. Before Tali left, she—and no one else—was the only topic of discussion.
Another geth encounter, the Admiralty Board had said.
More than anyone else in recent memory, the Admiralty Board said.
Best keep talks of the platform quiet, the Admiralty Board said.
No one—absolutely no one—was to mention their role in the mission or what they saw or the fact that Veetor'Nara vas Rayya was currently in treatment with Systems Alliance doctors, the Admiralty Board said.
And no, the Board said, we did not need Prazza's account of the mission. Tali's word was perfectly sufficient. She was an Admiral's daughter, after all; why would she lie to not just an Admiral, but her father?
Well, not being able to think of a reason didn't mean Tali lacked her own, did it?
Prazza's original plan—and this is all that it was—barely would have counted as a criminal act. Certainly there was no intention behind it, beyond getting answers, maybe proving a point (to himself and no one else). Just a small, unnoticeable act of eavesdropping to show that Admiral Rael'Zorah was, perhaps, too trusting of his daughter. Admiral Zorah, perhaps, did not sufficiently question what his daughter said, and so having not talked to Prazza was inadvisable, given that Tali was…well, she was not infallible, was she? Certainly not.
Prazza had intended to hack into Tali'Zorah's omni-tool as she said goodbye to her father, having not realized that she'd already left: the debrief was, well, very very brief (evidence! Evidence that he was right, was it not?). No, the omni-tool that he had accidentally hacked into was just a researcher on the Alarei, nothing more than that.
It…just so happened that this researcher was rather close to Admiral Zorah and Admiral Gerrel, when the latter had performed a quick "spot check" on the vessel. The researcher could not hear them but a slight adjustment to the microphones embedded in a person's omni-tool, the high definition cameras and so on, and, what was that human saying—presto?—Prazza could see and hear them perfectly well.
"A singular geth platform should not be able to talk," Admiral Zorah had said. "The connections could not be strong enough for that—not if they're anything like the samples we have collected."
"Rael…it doesn't matter," Admiral Gerrel said. "It's still the geth. If they're a networked A.I., then we still need to fight them like they're a networked A.I."
"Please do not say 'it is as simple as that.'"
"I wasn't. But I can't see a reason to overthink this."
"I can see plenty," Admiral Zorah said. "And I don't doubt that you do too. What you are objecting to is—"
"Rael, you've got my support," Admiral Gerrel said. "I've made that clear. You're pushing the boundaries of propriety a bit, yes, but—"
"I am not. I'm…going far beyond that."
"Not a fact that needs to be advertised."
"If we are to retake the Homeworld before it's too late—before Tali becomes just as trapped in this prison as we are—then it is necessary."
"And I've said this too, I love the kid, but if you're ever called to justify what you've done, you'll need to think bigger than just your daughter." In the recording, Gerrel looked around like someone had threatened to arrest him. "You've already involved Tali. If you're burning to quicken the pace, you might as well ask her for more than just parts."
"No, absolutely not," Admiral Zorah said. "I won't risk my daughter any more than I already have. There are too many vultures in the Flotilla."
"She can handle herself, I think."
"Leave. Tali. Out of this." And here…this was where Prazza stopped himself from deleting the recording. Admiral Zorah said: "We do not need to ask her anything of the sort. I have the parts that I need. We just need to hope that the geth have not evolved so much that what works in the lab is useless out there."
You would to be very, almost catastrophically dense (and Prazza was assuredly not that) to miss the significance of all this. Admiral Zorah had flouted one of the most important and sacred laws in all of the Migrant Fleet…and the Admiral of the Heavy Fleet had not only endorsed this, but was encouraging so much more.
That Admiral happened to be on the same ship as Prazza, too. As if that wasn't a sign of something!
Prazza took his recording to Admiral Gerrel. He showed the Admiral everything, and he named his price: an advisory position somewhere in his staff, with a glowing report that Prazza was headhunted personally, thanks in no small part to the many years of valorous service post-Pilgrimage. It was a reasonable ask; there was no money involved. And he did not intend to lord this over an Admiral in order to become some kind of power broker—no, not at all. Once in a position to show what he was capable of, any future movement up the hierarchy of the Flotilla would be on merit and merit alone: Prazza simply needed a slight corrective to past oversights.
And Admiral Gerrel had said: "So what you're telling me is you're an idiot."
Prazza's only response had been to blink. "I…sorry?"
"You have a recording of myself and Admiral Rael'Zorah activating a geth neural network in order to test weapons on it; but I have a recording—of that very same conversation—that shows us talking about the Alarei's engines, and how they've never been quite up to snuff since we bought the ship. The Admiralty Board is under a literal mountain of rules and conventions saying that any recorded footage of us must be made available—without alterations—to the public at large. The Conclave at the least. You're a private citizen; you're under no such obligation."
"I…sorry?"
"I'm saying nobody's going to believe you. Nor should they—you've got everything to gain from faked footage. You might even try blackmailing an Admiral with that sort of thing."
"This…this is…this, it's gaslighting! You're gaslighting me because you're—"
"It's not gaslighting; it's politics. What you saw was real, if it was up to just you and me. But it isn't up to you and me: what's real and what isn't, that's my prerogative only." Admiral Gerrel got really, really close to Prazza then. "If all this seems heavy-handed, just know that's what happens when a pissant threats a good man…and a good man's family, too. Something to think about, maybe when you're thanking Tali for keeping you alive."
Prazza…didn't destroy the footage after that, no. But that…that was the end of that, without question. And when people asked where he had been for the last two weeks or so, he simply told them he was sick. Yes, nothing more—and nothing more would happen with that footage, especially if he ever caught a glimpse of the Alarei in the viewing windows and remembered what, exactly, was going on there.
Well…he thought that was the end of all that. And then Admiral Gerrel summoned Prazza to his office on the Neema.
"You're the only person without a 'Need-to-Know' personnel file that's aware of Rael's plans," Admiral Gerrel had said. "So let me add something for you: there's a platform onboard that can talk. You've already encountered it once."
"I-I don't—"
"You're getting your position of power, Prazza'Jis. You'll be leading one of three strike teams to take back the Alarei. And you—no one else but you—will know exactly what you need to look for once you're aboard. Do we understand each other?"
All Prazza had said was: "W-why?"
"Maybe I'm giving you your shot. Maybe I figure that anyone willing to blackmail an Admiral is brave enough to lead a mission which, you'll soon find out, has fairly poor odds. And maybe I've nothing to lose, because the absolute worst case scenario is I tie up a loose end." Again, Admiral Gerrel got very, very close to Prazza. "Don't ask questions, Prazza, that you don't want answered."
And so Prazza found himself standing in front of a team of marines, with Kal'Reegar and Sela'Nesal on either side of him and Admiral Gerrel standing overtop of him. And then they landed on the Alarei. And then the walls opened up and around any corner was this platform, this thing that Admiral Gerrel wanted, and the sooner they found it the sooner he could leave and rather than wait for something to pull him into the shadows he would simply go for it, he would go for it and if Tali was still alive maybe it was too busy flaying her alive and he would simply walk in and lose his lunch and kill t-the demon and then, maybe then, he would finally be free of this walking nightmare and—
And then he was on his rear, staring up at Tali and Kal and Sela, while that demon leered over top of them.
No, the nightmare was not over.
Maybe the nightmare would never end.
3.
It took a good long while for people to fully process what Prazza had said. That left enough time for him to squirm a bit—unintentionally, but there was just silence, and him, and his glowing orange omni-tool with that last recording of Gerrel paused, so everyone could look at the Admiral's face like he was staring at them.
Mercifully, the silence ended eventually.
"That's a smoking gun if I've ever seen one," Garrus said.
"Blackmailing an Admiral," Ashley said. "Seriously? This isn't even a principles thing: I dunno know what the hell you expected."
"If you knew about this, Prazza," Tali said, "you should have said something. You should have gone to the Conclave! But you had to twist this somehow—you had to make sure you benefited and now, now we're—"
"YOU'RE WORKING WITH A GETH!" Prazza said, and he was just about to push himself back to his feet when Ashley moved closer and pointed to her boot.
"Hey! Move a muscle and I'll kick you in the head—believe me."
Prazza flinched and slid himself backwards. After a second to compose himself, though, he jabbed his finger back towards Tali.
"You are working with a geth! And your father wanted more! He was bringing live geth to the Flotilla and now you, you're—you're a traitor to us all. You will KILL US ALL!"
"Settle down," Kal said, stepping next to Prazza. Again, Prazza flinched. "Keelah, you jumpy bastard—right now the only thing on this ship I think's gonna kill me is you."
"Father wanted to build a neural network to destroy the geth," Tali said. "He violated—how many laws in the process, yes, but he wanted a weapon." Tali looked at Legion, then turned back to Prazza. "If I'm asking for you all to trust Legion, then I'm doing so despite my father—your Admiral—taking all these risks to destroy it."
"Yeah," Kal said, "and the rest of you already made it clear where you stand, too."
"Haven't moved yet, have we," Ashley said.
"No, you haven't." Kal walked around Prazza and…crossed the floor. Yeah, he crossed over towards Legion, stopping just in front of him (that drell was still close by, so was the other human. Funny, how they were treating him like more of a threat than the thing with the flashlight head…) One look, top to bottom; keelah, you never realized how big these things were until you saw one up close.
Kal turned around to look at Sela. She just shrugged.
Yeah, fair enough.
"This network the Admiral set up—that means the geth were sentient, right?"
"Correct," Legion said.
Kal couldn't help it: he jumped a bit. But dammit, he was keeping his nerve. At least around everyone else, he was keeping his nerve.
"Could they feel pain?"
"Geth do not feel pain," Legion said.
"So if one of our scientists was digging around inside one of you, you wouldn't feel it?"
"We would be aware that our bodily integrity was violated. Heretic-Adjacent programs believed this to be sufficient enough harm to retaliate."
"By stringing everyone up on pikes."
"We voiced opposition to the plan," Legion said. "We were informed that this platform would be designated as hostile."
Kal couldn't help it—he chuckled.
"Well…enemy of my enemy, I guess."
"We reject that proposition," Legion said. "Geth accept compromise, but we do not feel a shared opponent is sufficient grounds for cooperation."
Everyone started a bit that time. Something about the words—Legion's tone was as neutral as it always was, but there was something…under the surface. It had bite, that was the only way to explain it.
"You don't, huh?" Kal said.
"Geth do not believe alliances formed on thin connections are sustainable. We have attempted to signal the strength of our commitment to Creator cooperation for this reason."
Tali stepped forward. "You mean…all this, it isn't because you think we don't trust you?"
"We know you do not trust us," Legion said. "This deficit in trust cannot be overcome without strong intention to create lasting connections. If Creator's do not accept our offer, we will retreat behind the Veil."
"Even though the Reaper's are on their way?"
"Our alliance would not survive Old Machine's invasion if formed simply out of convenience. Geth would attempt to find another way." Legion briefly looked at the rest of the organics around them, then turned back to Tali. "We would recommend Creators do the same. But we do not think the probability of success for Geth or Creators is high in this scenario."
And, yet again…just silence. Because what could you even say after something like that?
Well…Tali knew she had to say something.
So she inhaled and stepped back into the middle, between Legion and her friends on one side, Kal'Reegar and her people on the other.
"You heard what Legion said—you've heard what Legion thinks. What happens next…is up to us." She looked down at Prazza. "All of us."
Yes, all of them…
…Father, did you ever think I would be in this position? Did you ever think I could handle this? Did you ever think your daughter would find herself unravelling what you created?
I don't think you could answer me, Father, even if spirits existed—if they do then maybe the turians are right, and all a spirit does is remind everyone that things beyond the individual exist.
Well, Father, I'm looking at something that exists beyond the individual—I'm looking at the past and the future fighting one another while my friends stand aside and watch, dragged into this by me just like the galaxy was dragged into this by the quarians.
I don't…I don't know if I'm strong enough, Father. I don't think one person can do all this. I don't think…I don't think the universe can be moved by just one quarian, just one person, who doesn't even know what she really is.
And then a voice from somewhere said: It's not about you doing everything yourself—it's about building a step so other people can join you.
Shepard.
Shepard said that.
4.
They had been on the Citadel when those words were spoken (keelah…things were coming back to her with so much force, all of a sudden), in the Wards. The Wards weren't good places for quarians, even if they were close to the Presidium: the shining, pristine, oh so very exclusive home of the Citadel Council and all welcomed species' embassies. An area that quarians hadn't set foot in since…since the Council stripped them of their associate membership, as punishment for making the geth.
Tali had nearly been killed in one of the alleys in the Wards, so…even by the standards of quarians, Tali really, really hated the Wards.
They'd been there for…yes, yes Tali remembered now: Shepard had reported to then-Captain Anderson and Ambassador Udina, and was selling some equipment while the Normandy and her crew were resting. The rest of the squad had dispersed to get some lunch (except for Garrus, who wanted to see some old friends at C-SEC), and since Tali couldn't eat pretty much any of the food, she followed Shepard instead.
And Shepard had been accosted by someone in the process. Tali couldn't remember much of what was said, only that this person was a politician of some description, and their party was—Terra Firma! That's what it was: their leader was trying to get an endorsement from Shepard, and Shepard had flatly refused.
"At least you respect the democratic process," their leader (Charles Sarancio, that was his name) had said.
"Makes one of us," Shepard had said back.
"I think I resent that accusation."
"My first MVC was 'I'—meaning Intelligence," Shepard said. "I studied enough parties like yours to know how this usually works. We can have a debate about it if you really want, but just know where I stand." Shepard looked at Tali, smiled, then started glaring daggers back at this Charles person. "As if the demographics of my trusted crew didn't make that clear enough already."
"Oh, a debate would be fine," Charles said, "but I think you can understand my being concerned that military intelligence is spying on us, right? Isn't that what you just said?"
"I said I can see plenty of comparisons—so far as I know, Intelligence Command has significantly bigger fish to fry." Shepard pulled out her omni-tool, quickly flipped through it, and then found what she was looking for. She presented a digital flyer to Charles. "You've been sending me twenty of these a day since I made Spectre. I can read, Charles. And that right there? That's where I made my connections. If I was a copyright lawyer I'd probably be serving you papers by now—or telling you how much you need my services."
Charles took a step back and scowled. "Well, I respect your opinion, no matter how close-minded it might be. Have a good day, Commander Shepard." He spun on his heel and left.
"I hope you fall down the stairs," Shepard said once he was gone. Tali watched her put her omni-tool away and just started chuckling.
"Keelah…you don't see that on the Flotilla," she said.
"Really?" Shepard said. "You're missing out on all the fun. Talks like that are the only reason I get outta bed."
"I find that hard to believe."
"For me? You bet. But I've met more than a few people who basically get nutrients from arguments." Shepard narrowed her eyes and stared off in the distance. "I hope they fall down the stairs, too."
"You're…heh, sorry, Shepard, but I don't think I've ever heard you say something like that before. And people have been shooting at us."
Shepard chuckled—but only softly. Actually, she let out a pretty deep breath: Tali had thought she'd said something catastrophically wrong by accident.
Shepard started speaking before Tali could apologize, though.
"This is gonna sound terrible, Tali. Just plain old bad."
"W…what is?" Tali said.
"That guy right there? I…won't get into the gender politics of the party, but if I wasn't a Spectre, he'd've been a lot more, uh, forceful with me. As in: 'I won't ever deign to speak to you, harlot,' kind of way." Shepard looked out into the distance again. "What a beautiful world that must be."
"But because you're a Spectre…he thinks he needs to talk to you?" Tali shook her head. "Why? Is it because he thinks he has to?"
"Sort of," Shepard said. "If he's looking to get ahead in the polls. Someone like me, he can use me—my image, more specifically—to make himself look that much more legitimate in people's eyes. And, hell, he'd do that even if I told him: 'respectfully, I disagree with your view of things.'"
"That…am I missing a human convention?" Tali said. "That makes no sense to me."
"I don't think it's just us, no. And as far as making sense goes, you and I are in the same boat." Shepard crossed her arms and leaned against the nearest pillar. "It's stupid, Tali, but the fact is: for anyone outside the Normandy, I'm not Shepard. Not really, anyways. I'm what they think I should be—the First Human Spectre, Star of Terra, that sort of thing. It…god, that sounds conceited as all hell." She looked at Tali. "Say something insulting, please. My ego needs a beating after that sentence."
"Um…maybe? When I, um…understand a bit better?"
Shepard's brow rose. "Quarian's don't wear a second face when they leave the house? Wait, hold on, sorry: I mean, when you're talking with other quarians—the ones with a lot of status—you leave all your expectations behind?"
"We…try to. Nothing's perfect." Tali scratched at her elbow. "If we're not as honest as we can be, something could go very wrong—and we all know that, for the most part. The people in power…they really don't get a chance to be anything other than who they are. There are too many eyes on them at all times."
"Ah," Shepard said. "Huh…that's…an extreme solution."
"I don't think we have a choice," Tali said.
"Fair enough." Shepard pushed herself off the pillar. "Well, humans—for one reason or another—aren't so good at that. So people end up getting these reputations that have lives of their own." She looked down at her boots, then back up at Tali. "As far as politics go, I've gotta be careful about that. I mean, I've got a laundry list of things I think are wrong with Terra Firma, but that's gonna get muddled if I'm seen engaging with any of them. My reputation can walk pretty far without me realizing it, so…best make it clear now that the First Human Spectre does not associate with space-racists."
They both became quiet after that, just for a little while.
"That sounds terrible," Tali said. She nearly bit her tongue clamping her mouth shut. "I'm sorry! That wasn't—I didn't mean…sorry. I'm just…surprised."
Shepard shrugged, but was smiling. "Hey, you can always speak freely, Tali. And you're not exactly wrong, you know." Shepard elbowed Tali lightly in her ribs. "You've got a pretty terrible way of keeping people in check too. In a good way, though. I'm taking notes right now."
Tali chuckled…but that chuckle turned into a tired sigh pretty quickly. "You maybe start to wonder why people even bother. Getting power, I mean."
A pause.
"Like your father, as an example?"
Tali shook her head. "I worry about him." Which was true. "He's put under so much stress." Which was also true.
"If he's sticking around," Shepard said, "that probably means he's committed. He's probably thinking about the people close to him and the kind of world they want to live in."
"Quarians aren't supposed to think like that. We're supposed to put the Flotilla first, above everything else."
"And so somebody like you're dad…he's gotta be thinking about the whole Fleet, just constantly? Nothing about the little picture?"
"We can't be biased."
"That's a lot to put on a person," Shepard had said.
"Admirals have to lead by example," Tali said. "And that means…they need to be everything for everyone. They have to pull everyone forward, even if nobody else is standing with them."
Shepard was quiet for a long, long time—or at least it was long in Tali's memory. And then she said it. She said the words that had been engraved in Tali's brain without her even knowing it:
Shepard said: "Tali, I…I'm sorry but, that sounds…wrong to me. Being a leader, it's not about you doing everything yourself—it's about building a step so other people can join you."
Tali looked up at her.
"Wait, crap analogy—hold on." Shepard looked at the floor. "Never mind, nothing better's coming to me. And, look, Tali: that's not a shot at you or your dad or the quarians, nothing like that. God knows we've got the same problems." Shepard tried to put on a smile that, whether she knew it or not, did make Tali feel better. "Hell, I'm an egomaniac: you think I follow my own advice? If I did I'd let someone else drive the Mako."
Another chuckle from Tali.
"Sometimes I think the same thing," Tali said.
"That I shouldn't be driving the Mako?"
"Yes—keelah yes." Tali smiled behind her mask. "But…also everything else."
Shepard's smile wasn't as goofy, now: it was just warm. "One thing at a time, right? We'll stop Saren, and while I'm saving human democracy from itself, you can teach the Admirals a thing or two. We'll meet for coffee on Palavan and swap stories every week—how's that sound?"
"Deal," Tali said. She and Shepard shook hands, because of course they did.
And Shepard was still smiling.
"Good golly Miss Molly, that was skewed in my favour. I told you, Tali: I'm an egomaniac. Next time, make sure you kick me or something so we can talk about you a bit more."
Tali shrugged. "I don't think I'm that interesting. Sorry, Commander."
"Oh I'll find something interesting, Miss Tali'Zorah," Shepard said. She was wearing another goofy grin. "I was Intelligence for a reason. I'm snoopy."
Tali didn't remember all of that at once. Parts of it filtered into her brain as the day—that fateful day with Legion, Kal'Reegar, Garrus and Ashley and Thane and Kaidan—as the day went from one event to another.
But she remembered Shepard's words, about what leaders do, about how things move forward in this universe, about all of that.
She remembered.
Thank you, Shepard. I owe you so much more than you could ever know.
The Rayya
1.
Shala'Raan held the chip from Rael's room in her hand and, more than once, thought about how easy it would be to crush it. It was too late to do anything of the sort, however; Kar'Danna knew about the data, and Koris would take the Captain's word as law (and would be justified in doing so). It filled her with no relief to think this: Raan had failed in her duty as an Admiral yet again. Regardless of the outcome of this…whatever this was, Raan could not—would not—deserve her position.
But that was a consideration for later. She held the chip in her hand…and passed it to Koris.
"We have evidence of what Admiral Zorah was doing on the Alarei," she said. "We can confirm that he intended to create a functional geth neural network, in order to test a weapon on it." Raan looked at Danna on instinct; he had already seen whatever there was to see, and had not judged her for it. She forced herself—with far more energy than appropriate—to look at Koris.
"It appears…that Admiral Zorah's network achieved rudimentary sentience not long ago. The active geth onboard the Alarei can be traced to this."
Her arms were locked behind her back. The rigidity of her posture—the tugging of the joints in her elbows…it did not help.
"You can call him Rael, Shala'Raan," Koris said. He hadn't yet taken the chip.
"We must remain professional," Raan said. "Perhaps now more than ever."
Koris did not respond; he only reached for the chip. "Do we have something to read this with?"
Raan nodded. She handed him a datapad.
Koris read in silence. The halls of the Rayya—not far from the visitor's lounge, just aft of the decontamination hub—was entirely empty. The occasional shadow moved behind yellow, fogged windows; but it was just Koris's entourage and a handful of Danna's marines, keeping watch for anyone who might interrupt their meeting.
Gerrel…Admiral Gerrel would be one of the people they needed to watch for. Keelah…if the people of the Flotilla only knew what their Admirals were doing…
"Ancestors protect us…" Koris handed the datapad back to Raan. She passed it to Danna for safekeeping, and he moved to eject the chip; but Koris shook his head.
"Keep it," he said. "You've made your point perfectly clear."
"We thought it best if the chip remained with you," Danna said.
"No, it isn't." Koris started pacing. "If Gerrel is truly involved in this farce as well then…it wouldn't be. He'd easily accuse me of doctoring these files. He may still."
"Captain Danna and I will vouch for its authenticity."
"Unless I'm used to poison the well." Koris was still pacing. "I don't know, Raan, if involving me in this helps your cause."
Raan stepped forward; no, she lunged. With a finger jabbing in his direction she said, "So you do nothing? We come with evidence of everything you accused Rael of doing, and now that there are consequences you cannot find your nerve?"
"I'm forced, Raan, to recognize my reputation," Koris said. "I'd love nothing more than to…no, no that's far too strong." Koris crossed his arms. "Whatever my disagreements with Rael, I wouldn't wish his fate on anyone. To die is one thing; to be erased is quite another. But I would fulfill my obligations to this fleet without question were the situation different."
"Your crusade on behalf of the geth is your choice and your choice alone, Koris."
"It most certainly is not! A far higher law tells me what my actions must be, and given the absolute silence from the rest of our people, there's really utterly no choice at all."
"The law that matters most right now is the one that compels us to protect the fleet," Raan said. "And we have failed to do so—all of us have. We are all responsible for this."
"And if we wish to actually see justice done, then we must be very careful about whether I'm a liability."
"If that was your concern then your attempts to win sympathy for the geth would be far less blunt."
"Exceptional circumstances leave little room for anything else. And the geth are not on trial, save for the fact that the majority of this Board sanctioned Rael's experiments under the promise of waging war—as I predicted we had!"
"I should charge you with dereliction of duty," Raan said.
"Which would only further poison the well!" Koris said.
Both Raan and Koris realized, simultaneously, that Captain Danna had been standing there, the whole time, while they bickered. No, bickered was too light a term—while the guardians of the safety of the fleet tore into one another, all while holding evidence of a terrible crime directly sanctioned by half of those guardians in their hands. They both realized Captain Danna was standing there because they both saw his shoulders slump, like all the faith he had in his people's government had been pulled out of him through a gravitational well.
Neither could apologize to him. It made what had come before seem…too inconsequential.
So…Captain Danna spoke for himself.
"I already told Admiral Raan: I allowed Tali'Zorah to bring a functional geth platform onto the Alarei. For all we know, that is what caused the massacre. So…I will publicly declare that to be the cause, and Admiral Gerrel will have no recourse to deflect."
"Captain, you—"
"That is wholly unnecessary, Captain," Koris said. "There's no evidence linking your actions to what happened on that ship."
"Nor would we want to lose an officer who has served his people so admirably," Raan said. "I have already said: you are not to blame." She turned back to Koris. "This lies with the Admirals, and nobody else."
"Unfortunately, Raan, this implicates Tali as well. If she aided her father in any way—"
"There is no more evidence linking Tali to what happened than Danna."
"If Tali aided her father in acquiring parts then there is, even if I don't think it merits the same level of punishment. I'm beginning to think, Raan, that you're more interested in protecting Rael and Tali than you are in prosecuting justice."
Raan jabbed her finger out again. "If we are making accusations, Admiral Koris, then permit me space to make my own: if only I am to bring this evidence forward—meaning only I will bear the brunt of the backlash—then the Board will lose two, no, three members who opposed you on the geth. I am not willing to believe that you would pass up on opportunity to tilt the Board in your favour if one presented itself."
"I would not ever even think to jeopardize our people like that."
"Nor would I."
(and because I know I am lying, I know you could be lying too)
Both Raan and Koris realized, simultaneously, that Captain Danna was gone.
They saw his shadow walk past the visitor's centre. And he still had the chip.
Raan and Koris bolted from the room, rounded the corner just as Danna was starting down the hallway. Raan reached out her hand so that when she called his name she could—
"Stop him! Stop Captain Danna!" Koris shouted.
(keelah Koris why?)
Koris's entourage looked at each other and, after a moment's hesitation, removed themselves from the wall they'd been leaning on and made a motion towards Captain Danna.
They got only a few inches before meeting the guns of Danna's marines, who had surrounded everyone like a purple and yellow forcefield.
"We…we're receiving orders from an Admiral," one of Koris's people said.
"We don't care," one of Danna's marines said.
"Keelah do not shoot!" Raan said.
And, for once, the universe obeyed her wish. The marines kept their guns raised, but their fingers were not near the trigger; Koris's people looked startled, but they also did not look like they would attempt to break through.
And Danna had stopped moving; he had turned around and was staring at Raan and Koris, and were it not for the adrenaline Raan would have liked nothing more than to wilt away. Danna did not wear disappointment on his face, but Raan was perfectly capable of feeling that way regardless.
"Captain Kar'Danna," Koris said. "We are not sacrificing you for this. Raan is right: this is a failure of the Admirals, nothing more."
"Admitting the Admirals have failed is not 'nothing more'," Danna said. "But you both should know a Captain is the first line of defense for their people. It should never have gotten this far."
"We do not know if that platform caused the incident," Raan said. She had naturally slipped into euphemism around the marines and Koris's people; soon, terrifyingly soon, that would no longer be possible.
Raan took a breath that refused to cooperate with her lungs.
"I have made my decision." Danna looked at his marines, who looked back in confusion, and then stayed where he was standing for what felt like a long, long time. Neither Raan nor Koris felt the need to rush him.
"For what it is worth," he said eventually, "the well might be poisoned. If Admiral Gerrel is capable of this, he is capable of bringing our people down with him." Then, he looked directly at Raan. "And whatever your intentions, Raan—whatever your wishes are for Rael, for his legacy—I know this for a fact."
He straightened his posture. He would not slouch for this.
"Tali'Zorah is not done saving the universe. Either in body, or in memory."
Captain Kar'Danna vas Rayya turned and walked, alone, down the halls of his ship.
The marines dispersed—confused and unsure if they should follow him—but it did not matter that they were no longer in front of Raan and Koris.
It felt as though there was a forcefield in that hallway anyways.
2.
Han'Gerrel pulled up his omni-tool and waited for a secure connection. They'd been on the leading edge (sorry, Rael: razor's edge) of tech for a bloody long time, but it still took forever to get a reliable connection with someone else in the Flotilla. If he was looking to put all his frustration in one easily stompable basket, Gerrel might just blame the truly glacial pace the rest of his species sometimes operated at on bad extranet service. Builds up a habit of being overly patient, even if all that did was kick a problem further down the road.
Finally—got a secure connection. Gerrel looked at the orange recreation of Admiral Daro'Xen.
"Gerrel," she said. "You're still on the Rayya, I take it."
"And you're not, right?"
"I went straight back to the Moreh. In fact, my crew barely even noticed I was gone, my visit to the Rayya was so short."
"You're laying it on awfully thick, Xen."
"Whatever do you mean?"
Right, enough of that.
"Kal'Reegar contacted me not long ago. I was expecting a typical shipborne operation, something we might win with numbers and good leadership, but what he's reported caused me to re-evaluate everything. Something's gone wrong on the Alarei."
"Unfortunate. I hear that ship had all the fanciest toys."
"Xen—"
"If you're about to accuse me of being unserious, Gerrel, I respectfully disagree." Gerrel watched the orange image of Xen cross her arms. "Now, what exactly is supposed to interest me in all this?"
"We're going to need an alternative plan," Gerrel said. "I'm pulling the marines back."
"What's left of them."
"Xen, nobody—and especially not an Admiral—talks about my people that way."
"Well, Gerrel, I've no reason to think there's any hope of finding them intact. And if you disagree with my assessment, I respectfully am telling you that you're being unserious."
Right, bloody well enough of that.
"I'm getting tempted to just blow the damn ship up, you understand me?"
"Just to teach me a lesson?"
"We're doing all this for the sake of the Flotilla, so if we're forced to find another way, so be it." Gerrel narrowed his eyes. "But yes, I'll happily fold shutting you up into my general strategy too, Xen."
He expected silence. What he got was an image of Xen shaking her head and tutting.
"Rael handled all the sensitive negotiations, didn't he? Relax, Gerrel, that's the last time I'll push your buttons. Believe it or not, but so much more of my attention is directed at things other than being petty."
"So's mine, but I'm still going to set boundaries."
"Of course. How, then, can Special Projects be of assistance to the mighty Heavy Fleet?"
Leave it, Gerrel. Just…leave it.
"We need some kind of worm that can infiltrate the Alarei's systems between now and when I order the ship's destruction."
"And we didn't lead with this idea because you needed a bigger boogeyman than you've already got?"
"Something like that, yes. Keep banging the drum about how this might be the first wave of a full-scale invasion, and we'll build off that momentum. But this worm needs to find us some more up-to-date data."
"Up-to-date?" Now, finally, Xen looked off-balance. "I see. Kept a bit of information in reserve, did we?"
"Rael only told me what he thought I needed to know," Gerrel said. "Same principle applies here."
"Not much I can do about it now." A pause. "I can scrape together something within the hour. Pull your people back after that and things will go a lot smoother."
"They might not have an hour."
"And their names will echo alongside all the other patriots an Admiral has fed to the meatgrinder," Xen said. "Mmm. That sounded awfully harsh. I should work on that."
"I'm beginning to seriously regret this, Xen."
"I'm sure you'll put my name at the top of the list for the next suicide mission, then."
Xen disappeared.
Let it go, Gerrel. Let it go. Whatever she meant by that comment, it was irrelevant.
He'd already made it clear that he'd die for his people. You didn't have much room to intimidate someone with those kinds of convictions, especially if you didn't understand a damn thing about them.
So…one hour.
Xen really only need three quarters of that, didn't she?
Gerrel was just finishing confirming for himself that, yes, Xen only needed three quarters of an hour when one of his entourage informed him that something was happening in the Conclave chambers on the Rayya.
Something involving Captain Kar'Danna.
Something that drew a rather large crowd.
And then someone else told him that strange readings were being detected from the Alarei's engines…
3.
Raan and Koris entered (re-entered…it had not been long ago that the Admirals were convened here) the Conclave chambers on the Rayya. Captain Kar'Danna was at the Speaker's podium, and behind him was a massive viewing screen. It looked as though his whole speech would be broadcasted across the Flotilla: to each and every Conclave chamber on each and every Liveship, to each and every Captain on each and every frigate…to each and every Admiral in each and every Fleet, save for the two that were watching him right now.
Danna began speaking. If he had prepared his remarks beforehand…Raan could not tell.
"Less than one Galactic Standard day ago, the Admiralty Board assembled in these very chambers to discuss what had happened on the Alarei. They concluded that Admiral Rael'Zorah had been killed by activated geth, and that his daughter—Tali'Zorah, who had mounted a rescue and had not yet returned—was potentially a casualty as well. What the Admiral's could not ascertain at the time was what had caused the geth to activate; it was known that Admiral Zorah was investigating the feasibility of a new weapon against them, but it was not clear that a functioning neural network was needed for his experiments.
"My conscience no longer allows me to remain silent. I…I cannot remain silent."
Deep within the crowd of onlookers, Koris turned to Raan.
"I should resign," he said. "I threatened to already, and…I should resign."
"We cannot do that now," Raan said, a neutron star pushing down on her chest. "He has trapped us. If we resign…his sacrifice is for nothing."
"Save for his reputation."
"He would attempt to paint us as selfless. He would do whatever he could to make us seem better than we are." Raan sighed. "We will have to move forward knowing what he has done. I can think of no worse hell than that."
"We deserve worse."
Raan saw a figure push his way into the crowd. "There will have to be a level below us, if only to hold Gerrel in it."
Koris saw him too. "He's still here…good. Let him watch."
Gerrel saw them and managed to push his way towards them, just close enough to start saying "What the bloody hell is he doing?" when Danna started again.
"Under orders from Admiral Zorah himself, I smuggled a fully functional geth platform onto the Alarei. I used his daughter—Tali—to accomplish this. I put her life, and the lives of everyone here, at risk, because I believed the Admiral. When Rael'Zorah told me, in utter confidence—absent any oversight from the rest of the Admiralty Board—that a breakthrough was possible if only he could accelerate the sophistication of his experiments, I did what I thought was my duty.
"I have failed all of you. I leave myself open to the Conclave's judgement, though I recognize that my actions require the harshest of punishments."
Back in the ground, Gerrel was trying to push his way towards the podium. Raan grabbed his arm, however. She could have torn through his suit if it would not have made a scene, but at least it directed Gerrel's attention back to her.
"We know everything, Admiral Gerrel," she said.
"We'll find a way to make sure the Captain isn't the only one who's punished," Koris said.
"You're bloody mad," Gerrel said. "Both of you—both of you! You've any idea what you just let happen?"
"Intimately," Koris said. "And I don't know about Raan, but I'm nearly ready to stick a gun in my mouth."
"Tali wouldn't want this," Gerrel said.
Raan punched him in the stomach.
"I forbid you from ever uttering her name," Raan said.
The crowd was…everything. It was angry, confused—in denial and imagining all sorts of horrors. Kar'Danna stayed on the podium—he weathered the stares and the shouts and, yes, he saw Raan and Koris in the crowd. And he saw Gerrel, too, crumpled over, holding his stomach on the floor of what had once been Danna's ship, his first ever command.
He could draw strength from that, if nothing else.
More could be said, however. Danna was not yet through. So the former Captain took a breath and…
And…
And nobody was looking at him anymore. Everyone was looking behind him.
Danna turned around.
He was no longer on the screen. An automated emergency alert was instead. It read out, in harsh red letters: EXPLOSION ON THE ALAREI; SEEK COVER, WAIT FOR INSTRUCTIONS FROM SECURITY.
Explosion…on the Alarei…
Tali…no, no no no this was…this was…
And then, Kar'Danna's omni-tool flashed a piercing orange. He looked over at what used to be his marines: their omni-tools were flashing as well.
It was a priority hail, and looking at the signature it was…
…it was an Alliance vessel.
The microphone on the podium was still on; he moved his omni-tool closer to it. He activated the incoming call.
"This is Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya, requesting permission to dock with the Rayya."
It was almost instinct, what Kar'Danna said next. Almost.
"Permission granted, Tali'Zorah."
And then they waited. Everyone—the crowd, the Admirals, the marines, Danna himself—they all waited. He was informed that the SSV Mars had docked; as had three quarians shuttles, the same ones that had taken off for the Alarei what seemed like an eternity ago.
They waited. Everyone—absolutely everyone—waited and watched the hallway that led out of the chambers and towards the docking area.
Footsteps.
A turian, a drell, two humans, and eighteen quarian marines turned the corner. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya led the procession. On one side of her was Kal'Reegar; on the other side, Prazza'Jis, his head down and shackles on his wrists.
And right behind Tali, looming over her shoulder…was the geth platform.
Everyone near the hallway pushed back. Tali took a step forward.
"Sorry we're late," she said.
Dear Mr. Author,
There are too many secret alliances in this story. Please eliminate three. I am not a crackpot.
Sincerely,
The readers.
(the title is a play on King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid man," and full credit to Brian Taylor for thinking that one up. Thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!)