The Fall of Normandy

by Narcrotic

They survived Sovereign, Saren, and an army of geth. When the Normandy returns to the far reaches of the galaxy, they come across a nightmare best lived in tales. Stranded and against the Collectors, they fight for life. And each other. Tali/Shepard Pairing. AU. Intro to Dark Matter Theory. New approach to Collectors. Prequel to The End of Dawn.

2. Ullipses

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Many months prior.

4-01-2183

[ SSV NORMANDY SR1 ]

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"I can't," Tali protested as she wrung her hands awkwardly together, "I'm busy and I'd like to get this done."

"Hm. Really." John, leaning in and crossing his arms, felt a bit suspicious. "I just... got this little ol' feeling here that you're just making excuses."

"N—No, I'm serious," She stammered frightfully with a second glance, "There's lots of work to do and—"

"—Okay, okay." He relented, throwing his palms up in surrender, and taking some steps backward, "Alright, busy bee. Just try to finish up. Join us when you can."

She didn't say anything and watched him turn around, her hands still in that awkward dance.

Tali wasn't busy. At all. She waited for him to disappear and finally turned around to give every button, knob, and meter a long glance.

Everything was in harmony. Everything in balance. Nothing to tweak. Nothing to improve. Nominality. Through and through.

So why did she turn him down? She turned him down because...

She frowned.

Hm.

Nothing came immediately to mind. She grasped the edges of that console and stared hard at it, sifting through thoughts and feelings alike, trying to piece it all together with proverbial glue. She didn't try to understand them. She just did what her gut told her to do. And her gut told her no.

...Maybe it was because she knew every time she was around him, even in the company of others in the quiet safety of the Normandy, it was like falling in a myopic sea of Lala Land.

Or perhaps she just wasn't interested in goofing off with the others. Or maybe she just wanted to avoid her feelings no matter how vain it was to do so.

Adams stood up next to her and leaned into her console to read everything on it. "Oh. How odd, Tali. Everything looks just... so up to snuff."

"I—"

"Why don't you want to join the Commander and do some teambuilding?"

Tali blinked several times between her console and the Normandy's lead engineer, mouth trying to spit out an excuse that never even tried to leave her tongue. The seconds crawled by and Adams' smile became palpable.

"Tsk. Tsk." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head, datapad held behind his back, "Lying to the Commander. Not good. Not good."

"But I— I—...I!"

"—Go up there and take a break," He said as he fixed her with a cold glare and tight smile, "That's an order, young lady. I don't want you here until next morning."

She kept flip flapping between that damn computer and him. She still didn't move. He opened up a wide arm to start corralling her to the exit.

"Come on. Let's go. Up you go."

"Er—uhm."

"Another peep, Tali, and I'll have to inform the commander of what's going to be a demerit. We wouldn't want to blemish a would-be flawless record, now would we?"

Eyes wide, she no longer resisted.

Out popped Tali to the other side of the door with Adams closing it quickly behind him.

She made an audible inhaling squeak and emboldened herself to accept the fact that she was going to have to participate in whatever John had planned this time. Waxing out a mental groan, she turned the corner and the first thing she saw was John's red tomato face heaving and pulling against the unyielding wall of muscle before him. He was arm-wrestling Wrex.

"I'm winnin' Tals. Look." A vein bulged from Shepard's head, lips puckered, "I got it."

"Come on, Commander." Kaiden scoffed, "I got money ridin' on this."

John's scowl was about the only thing Tali could focus on. Juxtaposing it to Wrex's collected expression did the commander no favors.

Slowly and without effort, the krogan began to pull John's arm further and further away from the win the man so desperately sought. He gave up and let the dinosaur have it. As if it were a surprise, Wrex won again.

Nursing both pain and pride, John shook the ache away from his hand and scowled. "I had it. God, I had it."

"Ah, shoot." Kaidan spat and handed over a credit chit to Marcus, one of the crew members watching, "80 credits gone."

"You thought, even for a second, the commander had a chance?" Marcus said, pocketing his win, "I'm going to give you some advice: Don't go to the Kentucky Derby. You'd lose everything."

"Marcus is right LT, that was a really poor choice." Ashley quipped.

"Hey now. Commander's got some guns. Really thought there was a chance. Now if he was a biotic, he might've had a chance."

"Thanks for believing in me, Kaidan." A new kink in his shoulder he'd have to fight with now, John clasped his hands together. "I vote we disqualify Wrex. The disparity of skill is too high."

"Sore losers are what I see." Wrex admonished before leveling his gaze upon Tali. "I want a match against our little pyjak here. I bet if anyone can beat me, it's her."

Wrex hollered his laugh across the deck at such a thought. The rest of them rolled their eyes and shook their heads at what barely passed as an entertaining joke.

Tali tried to wobble out an anxious laugh and failed miserably.

"Alright. Bets up. Ashley vs Tali. Let's go." John announced, gesturing to them both to step up to the plate.

Ash rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to arm-wrestle Tali."

"Tali?" John asked, big smile on his face.

"I'm... going to recuse myself." Tali said nervously.

"Welp, we got a second disqualee."

"Is that even a word?" Kaidan mumbled.

"Disqualee? Probably not." Marcus said with a muted voice.

"How about..." John pointed to the next contestants, "Ashley versus Garrus."

Ashley rose an unhappy brow. That was a daft suggestion at best.

"Nope. That's not happening."

The turian opened up his hands, not understanding. "Why not?"

"I'm not arm wrestling you."

The turian really wasn't fully registering why she'd be so averted to such a simple exercise. "I'm not going to hurt you."

There was no mirth in her voice when she mocked him. "Garrus, I know how to send men twice your size to the med-bay. You can't hurt me."

Garrus gave her an admonished look. "I... somehow doubt that."

"Is that a question of my skill?"

Wholly unimpressed, he let only his stare do the talking.

The air went still. "I'm about to make you drop that smirk."

She always treated him like this. Ten foot pole. No attempt to integrate. They'd been on this ship for months now and their relationship could barely be called one. It was beginning to piss him off. This here was the catalyst to finally show it.

"What is your problem?" Garrus growled, "What is wrong with you?"

A coldness encroached her tone. "Nothing. I don't have a problem."

"Yeah. You do. You treat me like shit on a shoe and I don't understand why."

"I don't care how you think I treat you."

You could see the gears in Garrus' head locking up and churning. "You've got an ego, Williams. It's vanity."

"Oh, Christ almighty." She tossed her hands up, "I can see why C-Sec ditched your ass."

"No respect for anyone but yourself either." Garrus retorted and decided to finally knock her down a peg, "Gunnery Chief who's been in service for seven years without a promotion? How does that figure? I don't know a lot about Alliance chain of command, but I know enough to see that's not normal."

Silence from the crew. A fire fell upon the woman's eyes and an icey visage descended.

"You don't know what you're talking about." She got up in the turian's face and pointed all five fingers like a spear against his chest. "You don't have a fucking clue."

Wrex was about ready to pull up a chair and eat popcorn.

"Step away, Williams." Garrus warned, voice a bi-toned growl, posture grounded like a rock, "Before we have an accident."

"Make me."

Tali wrung her hands together and watched the air simmering between the two. John called this teambuilding, but right now it looked more like the precursor to a fistfight.

And with Wrex now stomping around (Tali called it stomping only because of his impeccably large size) and telling the two of them to "duel right here, right now" was making everything worse. Marcus, the only crew member who'd taken the liberty of hanging out with the ground team, stuffed himself into the smallest corner he'd found and kept his eye on the krogan's bulk to keep himself from looking like the pancakes they all had for breakfast.

Tali could hardly blame him, she was just as inclined to do the same.

"Commander." Joker's voice on the PA called. Everyone froze and looked up at the intercom. "Council's on the line. They've got some news for all of you."

"...We'll be there in a minute." John said finally before giving Wrex, Ash, and Garrus a stare, "We'll have to put the teambuilding on hold." John growled.

"Uh. Okay. Well—they're, uh—waiting for you whenever you're ready." Joker answered, clearly confused by John's inflection. Tali's hands in a vice, she watched John's face turn venomous.

"Wrex." He placed a pointer up against his breastplate. "Stop."

Wrex grumbled, offered his assent, and leaned back on the wall, almost crushing Marcus unintentionally.

"Williams," John scolded before rearing on her, "I want you at attention. Now."

She snapped to and he approached her closer than personal space would usually allow. His face offset from hers and tone hushed, he glared into her soul.

"Being here is a privilege, do you understand me? Do not make me second guess your position here. Another outburst and you're off the ship. Are we clear?"

She swallowed and stood straight. Eyes piercing, she fought against the blinding vitriol coursing through her bones and blood. "Aye. Sir."

He stepped back and motioned the elevator with his head. "Fallout. All of you. Go. Now."

Kaidan cleared his throat awkwardly and they all made their way to the conference hub in silence.

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"Commander." Tevos greeted politely on behalf of the three councilors animated before John and his team, "It is good to see you."

Valern offered a brisk wave. Sparatus did nothing. Stoically silent, as usual. Ever the one for eschewing even the most basic of formalities as expected. John imagined that platitudes were completely lost on him for reasons that he would easily understand. If he were a soldier turned politician much like Sparatus, he'd likely turn out the same way too. There was a limit to the number of bullshit smiles you wanted to be on the receiving end of.

"Likewise, ma'am. What do you have for me?" Shepard asked.

"A developing situation." Sparatus began, speaking for the three, "Feros. An ExoGeni funded pilot colony gone dark. The geth are there in force and on a scale that warrants an investigation."

"What's special about this place?"

"Prothean ruins cover most of the planet. Experience would suggest they're searching for functional relics much like the beacon on Eden Prime. Their forces are scattered but concentrated on the settlement. Uncover Saren's objective. They may appear obvious, but making assumptions about his motivations would be dangerous."

Understanding fully what was expected, he gave them a firm nod. "I understand, sir. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"Is there anything else to discuss, Tevos?" Sparatus asked her.

"No." She said with a simple shake of her head.

Sensing it was time to conclude the meeting, Valern spoke. "The full briefing has been forwarded to you. We'll be waiting eagerly for your next report."

Tevos bowed her head. "Goodbye, Commander."

The call ended almost as soon as it had started, and the three winked out of existence. Nice and quick. He always liked that.

He turned around and faced them all. "Expect the brief in your email. Go over it tonight after dinner and we'll have a meeting after breakfast tomorrow. Dismissed."

One by one, they stood and, keeping the most distance between themselves possible, filed out. Watching the spectacle, John parked himself up against the railing and crossed his arms, sighing out and giving the ceiling a thousand-yard stare.

Intepersonality disputes. He wasn't good at these. This was hard. It'd been a little over two months since he'd been appointed Spectre and given control of the Normandy. And it was a miracle he managed to keep them together for this long. He was lucky the incident earlier hadn't been worse. It was so surprising, in retrospect, to see the problem wasn't coming from Garrus, Tali, or even Wrex. But Ashley. She was the common denominator in a lot of the problems between them.

He didn't factor Liara, because she hardly ever left her room, save for when they'd have meetings with the council (which she didn't attend to this time). And Kaidan was... well, he was Kaidan. He never worried about him.

"Shepard?"

Shaken from his thoughts, John locked eyes with the woman in front of him, hands intertwined at her waist. He didn't notice that she'd stayed behind.

"What's up?" He asked through a forced smile. While he waited for a reply, he could make out the barest of details of her brows furrowing and eyes sifting for words. He could tell she was harboring hesitation in that head of hers.

"...Does Ashley hate us?" She asked finally, voice pinned by a meek undertone.

John's stole himself a second. It might've looked like he was searching for an appropriate answer but he wasn't. He just had to be careful how to word this. He knew Ashley didn't have a bone of hate in her body that was directed to anyone but the people that'd wronged her. She hated the circumstances that she found herself in. How she processed and directed that energy though—was something that needed work. You never completely knew what might set her off. He took in a deep and reserved breath and bit the bottom of his lip, knowing that he owed Tali an honest reply. "No. She just... has some history involving First Contact."

"First contact?"

"The Relay 314 incident." John corrected, "Not anything directly, but enough for it to be following her career. It colors her outlook." He shrugged. "Her worldview."

Tali's eyes averted away and she stared at the floor. She wasn't going to push for details. So she said the only thing that came to mind instead. "Oh."

Her eyes were still thinking. "...Would you really kick her off the ship?"

By habit, a hand went up to his chin and he gave the whiskers a scratchy rub.

"...No." He said finally, "We need her around. I know she'd never let it come to that anyway."

"Okay." She nodded, only mildly relieved of her concerns.

"She's a good person, Tali. Believe me. Her heart's exactly where it should be. If I really thought she hated all of you, she wouldn't be on this ship."

She was almost castigating herself for being this involved, "I know, I'm just—worried something might happen."

Always so worried for everyone. Another thing he'd begun to adore about her. Out of the four misfits in his crew, Tali had carved herself a distinct silhouette that John truly admired. In the first weeks of their campaign against Saren, he started to feel this pull. This undeniable gravitation toward her. One that was more than a mere appreciation of her professional competency both groundside and with the Normandy's engineering team.

He really enjoyed her company; even if she was always reluctant to part ways from the damn console parked next to the drive core.

Funny enough, these feelings were scarcely something he understood himself. He'd barely dated in his life. Had a girlfriend years back he barely even knew for all of, what, a few months that didn't go anywhere? He hadn't bothered with the stuff since. Didn't have time for it.

But then Tali came along. And what felt like all the time in the world to get to know her. Two months in and he knew she was smart. She was nice. Caring. Thoughtful. Nervous. Bubbly though. Had a mastery of her craft. Knew a good joke or two. Wasn't tone deaf. And could competently handle a gun.

She just had this angelic and wholesome aura to her. It was regal even. Perhaps even exotic if he wanted to go there. Her being a different species did little to dim the allure. It didn't bother him at all actually. It just made her more mesmerizing. All of these feelings were impossibly hard to ignore as of late.

"Hey, don't worry about that. That's for me to handle." John said at last.

"Okay." Came another simple answer.

"Come on." He took some steps toward the exit, "It's dinner time. Maybe you should join us for once?"

"Uhm..." Tali was immediately disinclined to do that. But she denied him enough for today. Worried she was going to look like she was intentionally avoiding everyone, she acquiesced and nodded. "Okay. Sure."

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---

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She sat across from him. Op-aid in hand. A notched satin gray parcel with Khellish inscribed at the top with the ingredients and indicated flavor.

A quarian got to pick between two. You got sweet. Or you got savory.

She didn't open it. She stared at the thing in her hands and then to the meals everyone was eating.

Steam wafting from plates and bowls stacked high. A palette of warm and inviting colors on every tray. The clinking of silverware, cups, and muted conversation.

The culture surrounding food was an art lost to the quarians. A dedicated gathering during meals was as foreign a concept to her as a dreadnaught was to a planet's surface. Visible. Yet untouchable. She was estranged from the communion. Estranged from the tastes and joy that resonated around food. Here, surrounded by this wide mosaic of flavors and colors, she was only an observer. Reduced to a solitude that her suit mandated—a fence against even the most benign of simple pleasures.

That's why she didn't do this. That's why she wouldn't come. She longed to dive into that feast. To savor the spice and sweetness of every morsel at the end of a fork and spoon.

Her stare fell back to this stupid thing in her hands. They couldn't even be bothered to name it something nice. Op-Aid. Something appropriate for a coma patient. Something to be funneled through a tube for a vegetable. Eating was a function. Not a joy.

She almost wondered if part of the purpose of the pilgrimage was to remind every quarian alive what they'd been reduced to. To show a pilgrim how much had been taken from them. To see that the damnation and exile from Rannoch extended beyond just losing her and her colonies. That they'd been robbed of life's basic normalcy.

She would've been none the wiser if she'd never left the Rayya. That fact, in retrospect, wasn't lost on her. You could see these scenes of people eating in movies and the pictures of restaurants on the extranet. But it was far removed and barely something that was worth issuing bandwidth to. But living it made it different.

"Something wrong, Tali?" John asked. She immediately pulled herself out from the internal meandering. She should've just turned down John's invitation. But she didn't want to look like a flake. And she certainly didn't want to hurt John's feelings either.

"Oh, no." She murmured quietly. She fumbled with the small little packet in her hands. She couldn't bring herself to tear the thing open and look at its grayish contents. It looked disgusting in comparison to everything around her.

"Haven't even touched your food yet." John said, spoon hovering near his lips.

She avoided eye contact. "I'm—...I'm not hungry."

The spoon in his hand waned a bit. He knew Tali long enough to know something was bothering her. And he had a pretty confident inkling of what irked her too. He decided to give her an opening so she wouldn't be burdened by their company. "Hey, if you're not hungry, there's no reason to stay. Why don't you retire for the rest of the night?"

"I... just might do that." Tali said, standing, pouch crinkling under her grasp, "I'll see you guys later."

"Bye Tali." Garrus said between a sip of tea. Liara also noticed her leaving and smiled. Ashley simply nodded.

She gave them all a crestfallen wave. "Bye." She mumbled.

When Tali turned around, she almost yelped from the large wall of krogan erected behind her.

"Ah, good," Wrex rumbled, a tray in each hand holding his self-assembled macromountains, "more room."

The krogan sat in a heavy heap, unsheathed the serving ladle stolen for his hill of food, and stuffed his maw with seven servings of mashed potatoes and ten biscuits all in one go.

"Wrex." Shepard warned with a worried stare, "Be careful. You're gonna choke."

Just before Tali turned the corner to leave, she gave the room a final fleeting look before resting her eyes on John.

Coincidentally, John turned around to get one last look of Tali. He almost locked eyes with her, but she was gone.

Spoon back in the bowl, he felt his frown tighten. That was just so disheartening, watching that. It was enough to douse what little appetite he had. He stood up with his tray, bussed his unfinished meal, and felt like he'd confirmed his suspicions enough to know that the surprise he was planning wasn't going to be done erroneously.

He lamented the part of having to put her under such an unwelcome spotlight. But he needed to know. There was a delicate balance here between being thoughtful and just plain ol' weird.

He pulled from the refrigerator an unlabeled and sealed container he'd left in there earlier.

"Heat this up for me, would you?"

"Aye, sir."

The cook took the tray and slot it into their micro-oven to get it hot.

"Didn't like the menu tonight, commander?"

"It's not for me." John said, giving the mess sergeant a detached answer.

"Ah."

John crossed his arms and looked at Wrex gobbling away his self-made buffet.

"How many calories do you think a krogan needs every day?" John asked for a passing conversation.

"Well, let's see. A two-stomached biotic that weighs about eight hundred pounds? He eats about as much as a dozen servicemen. So."

John gave the cook a low whistle. "So what? Thirty-something thousand kcals?"

"After going groundside? Give or take, yeah. "

They watched the krogan eat a whole chicken the same way one would eat a chicken wing.

Reserved amusement was about the only thing that could describe the look on John's face watching that culinary conquest.

"What an expensive toad."

A few minutes roll by. Then the oven made a muted beep and the cook retrieved the sealed tray to give Shepard.

"Plate and silverware?" The cook asked.

"Please."

He placed them on the container he was holding. Giving his thanks, John made his way to the elevator and could see from the corner of his eye people staring and guessing. But he didn't care. They could stare and guess all they wanted.

He imagined that by now, Tali was already in the comfort of her room and changed out of her suit to something more fitting for relaxing in bed.

And she was. Tali had already settled down, sweats and a simple tank in place of her suit. She'd shower later.

Sitting at her desk and tousling her hair to get it under some control, she brought a knee up to her chin and decided to pull up the briefing they'd been sent on her laptop.

She skimmed its contents. Then she opened up a search bar and typed in Feros and clicked on the first link she found to see if anyone had anything on it yet.

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---

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs:

FEROS | ᴀᴛᴛɪᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇᴛᴀ / ᴛʜᴇsᴇᴜs sʏsᴛᴇᴍ

ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅᴇʀ: ᴇxᴏɢᴇɴɪ ᴄᴏʀᴘᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ [ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ 2178] ᴘᴏᴘ: 300

—ꜰᴇʀᴏs ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴄᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇᴛʜ ("sᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ" ɪɴ ᴋʜᴇʟɪsʜ), ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ sʏɴᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪꜰɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴇᴜs ᴠᴇɪʟ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡᴀs ʟᴏsᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇxᴏɢᴇɴɪ ʜᴇᴀᴅǫᴜᴀʀᴛᴇʀs sɪxᴛʏ-ꜰᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜʀs ᴀɢᴏ. ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟᴛɪᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀssᴜᴍᴇᴅ ʜɪɢʜ. ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ʜᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ. (ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏɴ sʏɴᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ʟɪꜰᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴍs, ᴀᴄᴄᴇss ᴡɪᴋɪ-ɴᴇᴛ: sʏɴᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ʟɪꜰᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴍs) | [ᴋᴇᴘʟᴇʀɪᴀɴ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ: 0.971 ᴀᴛᴍ. ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ: 5.44 ᴀᴛᴍ. sᴜʀꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘ: 10°ᴄ]

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---

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She stopped reading. A colony only three hundred strong. There wouldn't be a soul left on the planet to save.

A knock at her door which startled her a little. "Oh. Who is it?"

"Me." John murmured through the PA.

She put her knee down and drew up a face of concern, turning to face the door. "Shepard?"

"The one and only."

She glanced at her clock then back to the door. "Uhm... it's still dinner time. Not that I mind, but why are you down here?"

He stared at the tray and was beginning to second-guess himself.

This all started when he'd been going over the supplies coming aboard the Normandy. As the pallets passed by, he came across a box labeled 'Purified Oral Paste-Aide: Version 9 [D.C/E]'. Garrus, who'd been standing next to him at the time, unboxed the foodstuffs before showing John what exactly it was she was eating.

It looked like modeling clay. The kind he used to play with in elementary school during art class. And now that he mentioned it, he couldn't quite remember if he'd ever shared his observation with her. Regardless, no one alive would electively, by their own volition, eat whatever it was she was eating. The stuff made Alliance field rations look like they were worthy of a Michelin star. So he took it upon himself to find a meal that would dignify her pallet with something real and not that paste of subsistence.

He knew his hunch made sense. It's why she always avoided breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He chalked it up to her just being that busy little bee. But seeing what happened tonight told him she didn't want to be around because it wasn't something she could partake in. Not necessarily a FOMO thing, but just something that made her realize how different she was from all of them. He didn't want her feeling that. He wanted to make her feel like she belonged. And this was the excuse to finally give her that feeling.

"I got you something."

He couldn't see it, but Tali was blinking her surprise. 'Got me something? What could he have gotten me?'

"...What is it?"

There was this awkward stammer from John. "...Food."

"You—" Tali stared dumbly at the door. Did she hear that right? "—brought me something to eat?"

"Yes." He said before frowning a little, mustering out the courage to keep talking, "I picked it up at our last stock point. It's good stuff according to Garrus. Safe'n'ready."

He didn't hear anything on that side of the door and he felt pressured to add even more context. "Look, I—...understand why you're never around during meal time." He said, eyes glued to the thing he held, "Makes me feel bad. So I made some arrangements and got this. It was supposed to be a surprise. I mean, if you don't want it—"

She threw her hands up as if it could stall him from his incensed explaining, "Oh, Shepard, I—I'm—I just—I don't know what to say."

"So. Do you want it?"

"Yes." She said meekly, "Yes, I do."

"Okay."

"...What did you get me?"

He tried piecing together what he saw. Vegetables and some kind of pot roast looking thing?

"Not sure, honestly. Looks a hell of a lot better than your Op-Aids, though."

"You called it modeling clay." Tali sulked quietly.

A lopsided frown tugged his lip. "Oh. So I did say that out loud."

"You did."

"Well. This stuff isn't clay. Believe me."

His second thoughts abandoned him when he heard her feather-like laugh. "I believe you."

"Well. I hope you enjoy it. I'll leave it here for you and leave you be."

She could hear the soft clack of the tray being settled to the floor.

"Shepard, I..." She bit back something welling in her chest. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Only confusion sat on his face. "What do you mean?"

"I don't—I don't understand. Why?"

"Tals, what are you talking about? I'm doing this because I care about you. Does there need to be a reason?"

"No, I..." She was stammering for the right words, "...no one's ever done something like that for me."

He was both flattered and heartbroken to be the first soul to give her the time of day. "That's a shame. I'm so sorry to hear that." He whispered quietly, "At least I'm your first."

There was a stillness from him and he cast his stare downard pensively. He didn't have anything else to say. So he stared at the tray one last time and then to the door.

"Good night, Tali." With that, he left and the antiseptic jets began to mist the anteroom.

John's departing words held a quiet sadness to them. They lingered and Tali felt a tightness in her chest. A complex knot of both gratitude and the cling of sorrow—an aching kind of warmth that she wasn't expecting to feel tonight.

Those soft-spoken words of empathy and understanding stirred a confusing medley of feelings. This wasn't just a mere gesture. It was deeper than that. Loneliness and self-reliance had been her companions for so long. But the life she had here, with the unexpected closeness to Shepard, to the crew, to the Normandy, was a life so far removed from that.

She closed her eyes and just breathed. To just sit. To revel in the lightness. In the quiet of her room, she wondered if this was how it was supposed to feel. To be cared for. Not out of some obligation, but because she was worth making an effort for. That people like John worried about her.

She closed her laptop and stood, shuffling her way over to the other end of the room to see what he left. She pulled the door open, dropping her gaze to the tray tucked neatly away in a corner, far removed from where there'd be any foot traffic.

Heart in her throat, she knelt down and brought it into her hands.

"Thank you, John." She whispered to the empty room, voice only a breath, "For seeing me."

Her offer of gratitude was for her ears alone. She felt seen. She felt valued. Felt like an equal. And most importantly, special. The only thing missing about this meal was a man to sit across from her to enjoy it with. Imagination abound, she pictured him.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

---

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

Present time.

12-6-2183

[ PYLOS NEBULA | ILLIKAH SYSTEM | ULLIPSES | SSV NORMANDY SR1 ]

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

---

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

Alright.

She'd been galivanting here through her memories long enough. It was time to get the day started and be productive.

As soon as she got to her feet to head upstairs, she heard from just behind the walled corridor to where the stairs would lead to CIC, the makings of some trivial argument.

"—ake a good long look and tell me this isn't worse," Garrus spat stupendously, "Green tongue or a toothpick; take your pick."

Ash smacked her lips. "Was that you trying to make a pun?" She said through a rowdy scoff, "Highest honor in the galaxy with that crap in my hair. You're already an alien; what's it matter if you're a little uglier."

Tali squeezed by them both while eyeing Wrex watching disinterestedly from a distance with crossed arms and a wall holding his back.

"Nothing to do, I take it?" Tali rasped, turning around at the base of the stairs with a hand on her hip.

Garrus turned to look at her so she could see him shrug. "Backwater planet and nothing interesting for lightyears. Nope."

"Ah." She looked uncomfortably at the green monster dancing between his teeth. "Please brush your tongue." Tali sniffed.

Garrus whirled on Ash and stuck a pointer on her chest. "You will rue the day."

Tali climbed, ramblings of Garrus and rude snorts from Ash behind her, omni-tool now aglow to get an idea of where they were in their operational schedule.

Three days now on this leg. Pockets of broken resistance on two scattered worlds in other systems and this was the first they'd been met with a distinctive calm. The only reason they were even out here was something tripping an Alliance probe. It was barely even noise based on the report. But procedure followed policy, so it was appended to the operative order last minute.

Ullipses was, as Garrus had dismissively put it, a backwater world without a thing interesting about it. Yet, as Tali finally reached CIC with its church-like ambience, she saw John enriching himself with all of the details Ullipses held within its personality.

Technically, the turian was only half right about the planet they orbited. Completely true, it was marooned in the void, a whisper away from the galaxy's bustling crossroads and the lifeline of a mass relay. But it was a garden world. Barely.

"Garden World" seemed a little grandiose for what was really an arid and barren expanse. Eyes alone through a window could see that it was a planet scarcely kissed by life. She wasn't even sure if a single tree graced its surface. But its personality was its landscape. Jagged peaks of mountains that dared to scrape the sky, plains blanketed in coarse grass, canyons tangled in stubborn weeds, and mesas fractured by the weight of time. Bodies of water, as sparse as they were, did dot its crust, the largest of them a lake stretching timidly across the equator and dipping down toward its southern hemisphere.

When it came time for scanners to run their topology analysis, it said more of the same.

The land was tough, unyielding. The rocks, imposing pillars of silence. Unless you wanted to farm desert weeds that you couldn't eat, you couldn't cultivate much here. At least not without an incredible amount of terraforming and genetic altering of everything you tried planting. Clearly, water would also be a commodity. Tali's eye-balled figure had her landing an estimate that you'd have to squeeze these lands the same way you would a used lemon.

Yes. She knew what those were. She'd been on this ship now a year. There wasn't a lot that she didn't know about humans at this point. Aside from the occasional idiom she hadn't heard yet.

She sunk herself into one of the computer suites and summoned the planet's profile to the fore of a larger screen, bathing her in its familiar amber glow.

Gravity slightly tipping over Rannoch's, an atmosphere of breathable air, and an average chill of six degrees Celsius. She was a fairly cold place. Bleh.

She felt a small pang of guilt prick her. Actually started to feel a tad bad for this giant inanimate ball of rock. A silly thing to feel, but her chastising and trashing of Ullipses wasn't warranted when she could easily imagine the views that it could gift her eyes. She doubted they'd find anything that would warrant a drop in the Mako given how calm the scanners were running. But if they ever did, she knew it would be worth snapping some pics of to adorn her growing collage she'd been scrapping together in her spare time.

She flipped through some more details she didn't bother reading anymore because they didn't quite interest her, her mind wanting instead to draw a good comparison to a garden world inhabited by the galaxy at large with garbage weather.

Illium.

It was a great comparison to draw from. One of the biggest cities in the galaxy and its surface was hell on land. But the timeless adage stood: 'location, location, location'. The asari corporatist world of Illium had the fortune of existing within the same system as a mass relay.

Ullipses did not.

It was a curiosity, then, that Ullipses was even given a name at all. Aside from the system's single gas giant, Malliloy, the remaining planets orbiting around their unremarkable star held only designations from a telescope that first discovered them.

As soon as she had come, she powered the computer off and climbed away from her recessed center, glancing her way to see John still intently focused on his study.

She could also tell, just by the way he stood, that he was a little bored. She believed they all were. Saren was dead and the galaxy was saved. The immediacy of doom had been repelled and were left cleaning up what remained of stragglers from Sovereign and Saren's stupid mess.

Two more days they would remain in this system, scanning, waiting, and dumping their tasked IES on Malliloy. Then they'd leave to the next system that even sniffed of something suspicious.

Tali exchanged smiles with John as she stepped up to the CIC's computer arrays to get a readout of their overarching systems.

"Howdy." John breathed, looking through his projections to see her.

"Hey." She replied earnestly.

"Up here already huh? Making the rounds?"

"Yup." She answered before turning her head slightly to the sound of crutches. It was Joker hobbling down the Normandy's neck away from the helm toward CIC.

"Can't hold it," Joker breathed with an answer John hadn't even asked for yet, eyes looking a little desperate, "I'm prairie dogging here."

John stuck a tongue in his cheek, eyes narrowing slightly. "Thank you for that image."

"I won't be long."

"I know you won't, I found your stash."

"The drugs or the porn?" Joker said without missing a sarcastic beat, still striding his way without looking at the Commander.

"Joker."

"Alright, alright. She's on auto-pilot. Won't be any longer than five, I swear." He strode his way by the quarian and dipped his head, "Howdydoo, madam."

When Joker was well enough away, Tali propped her head up on an elbow and stuck out a hip, a smile traveling up her lips.

"Porn, hm?"

"Believe it." John remarked flatly, eyes still high and dry, "Does that surprise you?"

"With how vocal he is about his favorite kinks?" Tone mildly chagrin, "Not particularly." She added cutely, "I'd rather you have found the drugs. Illicit contraband in the hands of our only pilot?" She tsked, "Pretty endangering."

"Very funny, Tals."

She gave her best coy look, the tops of her hands plating her chin.

"I try."

John's usual grin surfaced and he crossed his arms, waist pressed against the rail to prop himself up.

Seeing as how she got everything she wanted from only a cursory glance on the terminal, she closed it out and straightened herself. As it had been for two whole days now, things remained nominal. Another boring day it seemed.

And that was okay.

"I'm assuming everything's nice and normal?" He asked.

"Amazingly." She decided to take up some space next to him on the podium, "Isn't that something?"

They both stared at the floating readouts of Ullipses and John finally managed to nod. "Yeah."

He gave his floating screen a gesture and it all winked away, the map returning to a tabletop view of the Milky Way. She peered at what it provided. Their operational schedule. Fleet positions. Flagged points of interest.

Of them was the Migrant Fleet itself, she noticed. It made her blood run a little cold. Her visage against the icon held, her mood waning.

"I keep track of them." He murmured, sensing her stare lingering on that little blip. She drew her arms around herself. She hated thinking about this.

Her reply was timid and it hardly passed her lips. "I know you do."

"You know we're on the tail end of this op, right?"

"...I do."

His smile was still there, but it dwindled as he joined her in staring at the projection. "Three short jumps away. You say the word and I'll meet your dad like I said I would."

Her head dipped lower. This is where she felt adrift. Where her mind and spirit diverged.

She didn't need to be coy with herself. Her heart was anchored here. Anchored to the Normandy and bound to their cause. But in the midst of that tall-standing tempest, there was another reason. One just as entangled with duty.

Love.

She loved the Normandy. She loved her crew and what they, together, represented. But above all that, she wanted to stay here because she loved him. Because she loved John.

A silly thing, even now. But it was all real. She stared up at his handsome face, though her's was absent of a smile.

Completing the pilgrimage no longer drove her like it used to. After everything they'd done? Everything they'd accomplished? Completing it felt alien.

It was madness, she knew. She remembered vividly stepping off cradle 32 from the Rayya; her focus engrossed with the 'one for many' axiom. To set out in search of something to enrich both herself and the fleet. To return with a gift, to provide and care for at the exclusion of all else until her last breath. It was all she knew.

In the face of all that retrospection, the idea of sending a punctual email to dad, attaching her thirteen terabyte gift, and boldly signing it with her newly self-assigned name, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, felt like forsaking her allegiance to the Migrant Fleet. Where such actions merited only condemnation in the face of what could only be described as disloyalty and treachery. The optics from their perspective would be hard to fight. That, regardless of her contributions to them from afar, they would never be enough to justify the choice she so often entertained.

In the same breath however, it was an incredibly narrow and introverted way to be looking at this. Nothing about that part of her changed. Only the framework that she was operating in. Her devotion to the fleet was wholly consistent. Duty to the Normandy was in no way unraveling duty to the Fleet.

She knew this. Thought about it all the time.

She took in a measured breath, eyes still sharply focused on him.

She could phrase it any she wanted. It didn't matter. Up or down, left or right, she knew that whatever her choice would be, would be one of compromise. It was trading one betrayal for another. She just had to decide which one was going to hurt less.

A cold shiver traced the length of her spine when she imagined leaving. To depart and bid them farewell. For all the terrible and awful things she'd seen and the people they lost, leaving now would feel like closing out the best chapter of her life. Leaving behind the Normandy? Leaving behind this man that depended on her?

"John, I—" Her tongue died and the words simmered away, "—I don't..."

His gentle and caring stare withheld as she stammered. She balled her hands into fists and her resolve hardened. Just say it, damnit. Speak your damn mind and heart.

"I'm not sure if I—"

"—Contact declaration." Their Radar Intercept Officer Lyle Faulkner spoke up, "FTL Pop. Grid bearing eight four degrees. Relative reference: Distance four thousand kilometers, altitude six eight minutes, elevation five eight seconds."

"We can resume this conversation later." John said to her before looking up at the readouts splashing across the screen.

"Size and comp? Any transponder?"

"Hard shadow; she's looking... like a meteor? Negative on transponder."

"Velocity?"

"54 thousand knots."

"Track its trajectory."

"Descending, comander. She's nose-diving toward the planet."

"Get me a visual, now."

"Aye, sir."

"Pressly, bring us up to preparatory alert status and get Joker back up here." John ordered.

"Aye, commander."

"Viz in four."

Four tense seconds passed and they finally got a look of what emerged from FTL.

It... was a rock. But not quite a rock. A brown-looking turd falling toward Ullipses. Both Tali and John quirk a brow at the shape.

"...Anything else you can tell me about this?"

"Negative sir."

Suddenly, the RIO's console gave another sharp beep. More electronic alerts punctuated the bridge. "Additional FTL signature. Grid bearing eight—"

The operator couldn't finish and his voice died on him. There was another beep. And another. Again and again, the wonton note increased like a crescendo and Faulkner had to peer into his screen to make sure he was staring straight.

"Sir, we're getting... thousands of FTL pops. It's raining over... half of Ullipses hemisphere." The beep turned into a sanguine whine, "Oh my god."

Murmurs broke out amongst the bridge. It was a torrential rain of rocks at incredibly fast speeds. Above and below them, the void danced from the lightful rupture of meteors appearing, all of them soon funneling ominously toward a focal point somewhere on the planet.

Two things.

John could not believe what he was seeing. And he was getting incredibly frustrated at the impeccable timing of his missing pilot. Competent auto-pilot computer or not, he wanted his helmsman at the damn helm.

John's stare grew agitated, "Get Joker up he—"

"BRACE," Came a scream, "BRACE FOR IMPACT."

A cacophonic roar. A deafening clap. One that reverberated through the Normandy, shaking the vessel to its core. Its mass effect fields whined to keep the inertia survivable. Those at CIC nearest to the diagnostic chevron in front of the galaxy map tried to hold themselves up but many of them were sent to the floor.

"Engine four non-responsive."
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ"Subsystems four, eight, and ten offline; attempting reroute."
"Kinetic barriers are holding but failing."
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ"Gravitational fields are offline."

"Mag boots on! Now!" Shepard ordered with a shout. Another explosion surfaced against the Normandy, violently slamming those drifting into nearby walls. Spherical droplets of blood from busted lips and broken noses coagulate in the cabin before splashing around the Normandy's glossy interior.

"I GAVE AN ORDER FOR JOKER." John screamed as he and Tali kept their hold on the railing, "We need him NOW."

A crew member floated past in an endless somersault, tone deathly serious, "Pretty sure he's still shitting—"

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---

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He wasn't counting, but it took all of twenty seconds to plummet Joker from mundane to nightmare.

One moment, engrossed in a quick doom scroll on social media in the company of his porcelain throne, the next, a ship-wide alert screaming out mid-wipe. The Normandy's violent shutter had him sending an errant piece of used toilet paper on a direct collision course with his right cheek—a kiss so undignified it made Joker flex his neck from the frown he had to make.

A bad start to the day.

Yet another quaking tremor, and the soup below embraced every piece of him, happily sending back his package with express shipping. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

If that wasn't enough to make this any more of a joke, the flimsy one-ply, universally detested by the crew, gleefully unraveled its white sheets in a long and twirly maelstrom of white spaghetti.

"Oh!" A throng of paper spun around his neck to mummify him, "のん 𝕗𝕦𝕔𝕜!"

He could hear the dulled violence beyond the walls and, coupled with the lack of gravity, painted him a clear enough picture.

They were under attack. And here he was, pilot of the Normandy, benched to a toilet.

The tremors were too great. The inertia and lack of gravity rooted him here. The thought alone was mortifying. If they somehow survived, this would cement Joker's legacy aboard the Normandy. But not as he'd hoped. No, he'd be the butt of jokes (pun painfully intended) for years to come— one etched with one-ply.

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---

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A row of smoke trailed her. She swam, three engines screaming, her fourth torn and warped, its thrust trembling and shaking.

A wounded bird fighting against this cosmic blizzard, the Normandy's virtual helmsman carved its path for survival. Danced its frantic ballet. Weaved through spaceborne hail.

But in the darkness, a sinister blossom of energy unfurled, and a lance of light, flaxen and fierce, wreathed its tendrils of fury. It reached across the expanse and struck the Normandy.

Her name off port side boiled away, panels flayed, composites gone and tossed. Plumes of smoke twisted out to vacuum, the Normandy giving out a silent scream to the darkness as she began to helplessly drift into a languid and horizontal tumble while gravity sought to drag her toward the planet they orbited.

Normandy's eyes were gone and they were bereft of guidance.

"Damage report!"

"Impact damage, engine four still down."
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ"Multiple hull breaches port side."
"Fire damage, all decks."
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ"Navigational sensors struck, we are blind."
"VI OFFLINE. NO PILOT. WE ARE IN FREE FALL."

A witness to the chaos, Tali knew what had to be done. Joker was trapped below by the frail body he had. There wouldn't be way in this universe to get him up here.

An arm snaked around the rail and feet spread to keep her upright, she looked at John with shock, fear, and worry all at the same time.

She reached for his shoulder, hands rumpling his shirt to get his attention. "We need to get to the helm. I can fly her. I can fly the Normandy."

He knew she could. A not so well known secret, but Tali had learned to operate most of the ship. Hours and hours of simulations and lessons from Joker himself. What was supposed to be a fun pastime for her now turned into a chance to channel that experience in a way that could save them from this mess.

She hoped she could deliver. Simulations and guided flights with an instructor present were not something you could compare under the duress of their situation.

"Right behind you."

Tali, under the control of her zero gravity training, leveraged herself parallel to the Normandy's analytic suite. Tightening her hold on the Galaxy Map's rail, she catapulted herself over CIC and its forward diagnostic station, propelling herself toward the Normandy's helm with Shepard following close behind.

Another impact hit the frigate and forced them to veer into one of the thin pillars that flanked the CIC. Through years of ingrained training, Tali raised her arms to cover her visor instinctively while her chest slammed into the stilt. Air sucked from her lungs, a hoarse cough spat out and tears blurred her vision from the pain that rattled her ribs.

Bruised bones were better than a broken visor. She didn't have time to whimper in pain. She took that offending column into her arms, perched her feet against its bars, and thrust herself again toward the helm.

Her aim was true. She flew like a graceful bullet toward Joker's chair, hands held out to catch the headrest. One second stretched to the next and her hands found purchase before plunging herself in the seat while she fought with the straps to secure herself in its five-point sling.

John took the adjacent chair.

"Shutters, John, open them." She ordered, getting a hold of the yoke and pulling the Normandy's nose downward to impede their stall.

"Opening."

The quarian-turned-pilot flipped a switch and turned a knob. "Shunting engine four. Killing aux."

"Fuel line four is off."

More reports from behind them.

"Life support's failing."
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ "We're venting atmo."
"Losing pressure."

"Give me some mass effect," Tali requested, "Charge and dial down."

He tried doing just that. He was met with a catastrophic error instead. "...mass effect fields aren't functioning," He reported disappointedly, trying again. The error persisted and he blinked.

"We're normal mass." He faced her, "We can't dial down."

She gave him an incredulous stare.

"John, that's..." The yoke continued to raddle in her hands, "We can't fly out of here."

His stare remained locked on her and they both knew their fate was sealed to this planet.

"I know."

Amidst the din of alarms and the stark glow of crimson that bathed them, they both gazed out to the silent majesty of Ullipses, a planet oblivious to the strife that gripped her newest visitors.

The juxtaposition was almost poetic. A clipped and dying bird. Fluttering her last flight across the heavens, the view regal despite the gate of death that beckoned for their crossing.

Another impact hammered her aft hull. Another warped cry of metal threshed against its will, its force catapulting John's head toward his console hard enough for him to lose consciousness.

Blood started to coalesce into small bubbles around him.

Tali nearly yanked herself from her chair, hand out to try and reach for him. "John! John!"

Her heart screamed when the engines and alarms caterwauled their painful cries on his behalf.

The Normandy was dying. Breaches on every floor and an atmosphere barely to speak of. Half her sensors were gone and power was eroding faster than it could produce it.

The drive core was bleeding. Their FTL functions were gone. Her port side escape pods destroyed.

"John!" She cried out again desperately, "Please! Get up!"

Still nothing from him.

They were beginning to scrape Ullipses' atmosphere. The shutters closed and she could begin to feel the ship convulse violently on their entry. She could hear them all screaming and shouting behind her.

"Come on—" She prayed, "Stay together. Stay with me."

"Tali!" Jared screamed from his post behind her, "What are you doing?!"

"Landing."

"Are you 𝑴𝑨𝑫, woman!? Get us back up there! If you crash, we. are. dead. Do you hear me!? TALI!"

She barely registered his panicked response. His screams of dissent were drowned out from the tumult of the Normandy shaking under the vaporizing heat that sweltered her ragged frame.

"We're outside their envelope, we're clear!" Atkins bellowed from her post in CIC. It was time to follow up the good with the bad. With a free hand, she flicked open the intercom for open broadcast.

"All crew: ship-wide alert," Tali announced, "Sensors are down and I'm flying manual. Mass effect fields are offline." She steadied her breath, "...Brace yourselves. We have to land."

"Don't you dare land us, Tali!" Jared cried, hands white knuckling his harness.

"We have to." She yelled back, eyes set to the ticking altimeter, "We don't have a choice."

As they descended through the turbulent winds of Ullipses' atmosphere, Tali summoned the last vestiges of the Normandy's strength, coaxing the battered vessel into revealing the world outside one final time. With a hiss and a groan, the shutters retracted, banishing the darkness of their fall in favor of the planet's lands unfolding before them.

She pulled on the yoke and forced the Normandy's reluctant pitch upward to level itself out, her chassis groaning and straining. She flew like a rock without her mass effect fields.

"Don't you dare do it, Tali! You hear me?! Don't!"

Patience frayed, she whirled her head around from her seat to face his petrified stare, "Do you like breathing, Jared?"

A wet gurgly breath came out of Shepard's mouth and Tali snapped around to get a look at him.

"Oogth... my nohse." John grumbled before looking up to Tali with blood covering nearly half his face, "itsh badth, isn'th itdth?"

"Oh my god. John."

"Staduth?"

They passed over a range of mountains to the view of a wide plain. This was it. She gave John a final glance and squeezed every second of care and love into it.

"I'm going to need you to brace."

John cinched his belt tighter and Tali forced the Normandy's conventional airbrakes open to begin their descent.

The lands steadily grew closer and closer, a blurred streak of pale color rushing up to meet them.

If you were on the ground looking at the Normandy from above, you'd see a billowing streak of smoke across the hazy white sky, hurtling at a speed twice that of sound, as panels and composites alike careened out in wide arcs to the plains below.

Tali wanted to close her eyes but she couldn't. The ground continued to close in and her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. An icy grip touched her and she went deaf from shock, a ring bleeding into her ears.

Contact. The ship finally dived into the planet's hilly plains. A colossal cloud of dust and debris mushroomed around them, carving a scar across the planet's surface.

She continued like that for two whole miles until she came to a halt at the top of a hill, her nose dangling off an underwhelming and undersized cliff, stopping just shy of a bundled pillar of boulders.

Silence reigned, broken only by the creaks and groans of the settling ship. Dust slowly began to settle, a gentle rain of particles back to the earth, veiling the land with a fine, powdery shroud.

Through the Normandy's window, you could see Tali's shoulders shivering as if she'd just been dumped into a cold and frozen ocean completely naked. Her eyes couldn't have been any wider than a varren's.

Jared finally released the restraints he'd been holding hostage with a shaken gasp. "We've done it this time. Oh we've really done it this time..."

They were alive. They made it. Bruised and beaten, but alive. She sucked in an empty breath, hands finally peeling away from the yoke in a tremor to detach the restraints across her chest.

She faced John, her voice a shiver, "Are you okay?"

"I thinkth tho" He breathed heavily, arms holding him up, blood dripping from his nose.

"Sound off." Pressly said from somewhere far off behind them both after a fit of coughing.

Anyone still able replied with groans and moans.

She slowly got to her feet, mind still reeling and rejecting what had just transpired. It couldn't catch on. It refused to. She took some shaken steps toward John and started looking him over head to toe.

"Keelah, John. Why is your head such a magnet, you bosh'tet. Noveria. Virmire. Here."

He hung his head because it swam. "Ugh. Gethe woondead to Infhirm."

"Shh." She shushed him and unbuckled his restraints. When he tried to stand, she placed her hand firmly against his shoulder to keep him from rising, "No. Stop. Just sit for a moment."

"We needth to checth the othourghs. We needth to checth the lower decths."

"You're right. We will," She gave his fat lip and swollen nose a wince, "Just get your bearings first."

Tali turned to see Ash, Liara, and Pressly approaching.

She imagined Ash and Liara had a million questions to ask. But instead, they saw the Commander and crowded him instead.

"The commander okay?" Ash asked.

"He'll be okay, I think," Tali peered a little closer, "He might've... broken his nose."

"He and four others," Pressly breathed, "Everyone's alive. The crew's okay. Bruised like hell, but okay."

"I wanth a sithrep. Where ish Garruth and Wrexth?"

Liara held her hands together in front of her. "Garrus is... cleaning up Joker," She said, shifty-eyed, "Wrex is organizing what he can with engineering down in cargo."

John was about to talk some more, but Tali stole his stare. "John, please. No more talking. We can barely understand you. Can you walk?"

"Yeth."

"Then let's get you infirm and get that sweling down." Ash said, coaxing the commander out of the chair with Pressly's help. "We'll take him from here, Tali."

"I'hm phine," He stammered with a dizzy stumble. He was clearly not fine. They walked him down the ruined neck of the Normandy, awkwardly shuffling from the floor's offset.

And then it finally hit Tali. They were stranded. By her hand. Her knees felt weak and she stumbled backward and had to catch her fall by grasping the pilot's chair behind her, eyes trailing John as he shrunk away from the pairs of hands that guided him.

"Oh my god, Liara. I...I—"

"—Saved us." Liara finished, stepping closer to the quarian to placate whatever turmoil spread beneath, "I don't know what happened, but I know it in my heart that you did your best and that you made the right call."

Tali felt like hurling. She crossed her arms over the headrest and bent down so she could stare at the floor to get her bearings.

"Keelah." Her nausea rose, "Oh, Keelah."

"We'll figure this out Tali. Like we always do."

She sat like that for a number of seconds and swallowed what had to be bile rising up her throat. Her eyes nailed shut to stem the feeling. She was all about a few moments away from having to yank off her visor and evict herself of breakfast.

She felt Liara's hand hold her back to try and stifle the nausea. It helped. Somewhat.

"...Is the elevator functional." Tali asked just to try and detract herself from gagging.

"No."

"Why'd I even ask," Tali said with a muffled mutter, "Why would it be?"

"Because you're trying to distract yourself?"

"Mm."

"It might be prudent to go down to storage. We should see what survived."

"Okay," Came a mumble, "...I need to check my room anyway." She groaned, "To see if anything's still there."

"Do you think you can make it there?"

"Without puking? ...Yeah." Cathartically, she stood straighter and began to shuffle her way away from the helm with Liara beside her.

The hum of the Normandy was gone, replaced by haunting silence broken by sporadic coughs and the low unsettling buzz of random sparks from broken screens, briefly illuminating the dark walls with a flicker.

The crew was slowly piecing themselves back together, though everyone's expressions were dazed. Both her and the asari sauntered on, stepping over uprooted panels and dodging the low hang of wires. Conduits dangled and the air was rich with dead smoke and the scent of burnt insulation. Even the emergency lighting struggled to stay on.

She took it all in. Took in the extent of the damage and what it cost to escape the deadly rain of falling rocks.

Again, the pain rose and Tali stopped to hold herself up along a passing strut, the full weight of what happened finally bearing on her shoulders. She almost dropped to the floor in a trance but Liara was there and coaxed her to keep moving.

"Come on, Tali."

"I can't believe this is happening." She whispered despondently to no one, "Why."

She really couldn't bring herself to understand. She wondered how differently things would've played out had Joker been there instead of her.

They went down the stairs and took the ladder down to storage.

More of the same. Though it was devoid of crew here. Thankfully so given the disarray. Uprighting felled boxes and shoving scrap aside, they combed themselves a trail to her room.

"Who found Joker? Was he okay?" Tali decided to ask to break the silence.

"Garrus found him." Liara said, "He was...dirty."

"Where was he?"

"Still on the toilet."

"Oh." Came a reply on reflex. But then she thought about it more and it made her shiver. "...Oh."

Tali tried keying the door to her room but it didn't open. So she tried using the manual lever instead and was met with the protesting whine of metal. It hardly budged under the force she applied. And she felt like she was applying a lot.

"Liara, can you?"

"Of course." Her biotic aura pulsed and she forced the door aside to grant them access.

Cautiously, dreadfully, Tali entered the suite, her breath slowly ebbing out from her chest as she saw the ruin that lay within.

Papers burned. Belongings torn. The furniture wrecked. Eyes set along the split and fractured bulkhead, they could see the light of the day peeking through.

Tali soundlessly centered herself in her room to absorb the devastation wholesale, eyes bitter. And as she stood here in her haven, she felt... lost.

"I'm so sorry, Tali." She said to her back.

Stoic silence from the quarian. At her feet, she saw the remains of her scrapbook. Charred and battered, crumbled and ashen.

She knelt down to take it into her hands, its weak paper giving slightly, its only surviving picture of the Rayya. The one she'd taken when she'd first left on pilgrimage.

It was a sick and cruel jest for the universe to do that. To show her home after losing the one that mattered most.

She traced the singed photo with her thumb distantly, her stare sunken. She turned and found Liara's eyes.

"It's okay," Tali said softly, imbueing her book with the reverence she believed it deserved by setting it gently onto what was left of her desk. A frail and faint smile touched her lips. "Home is family. Not your things."

Liara's face softened and she stepped up next to her. "Should we look for anything here?"

There wasn't. The only thing that would've been worth salvaging was her newer suit and gear. But that was gone. Where her locker once stood, firm and secure, had been uprooted from its very bolts. What remained was only empty space and torn lugs.

"No," She answered with resignation, "Nothing. It's all either out in space or somewhere scattered over the planet."

They both stared out at the plane of light seeping through the giant gash that nearly spanned the wall.

A modicum of frustration still found its way across Tali's face. "Come on," She said in a loose sigh, "We should really take stock of what we have and report back to Pressly if John's still infirm."

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

---

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

There was a permanent and humiliating blush set on Jeff's face as he hobbled his way carefully down CIC. Never, in his 28 years, had he ever thought a scenario like the one he'd suffered would happen. And to have their only resident turian come to his rescue.

Oh god.

What got Joker was the face he made too. Nose wrinkled in disgust. Revulsion, really. A change of clothes in hand and baby wipes in the other. When the smell still hadn't disappeared, they had to get creative by cleaning him down with a damn spray bottle.

Pausing mid-stride, Joker shoved his hat further down his face, hoping to shield himself from the universe, or at least from the lingering snickers of the passing crew.

It was embarrassingly cruel. Salt to a wound. A fresh layer of torment added to an already excruciating day. A memory to surface like a bobber at the most random of times to make him wanna cringe and die.

But as Joker continued his walk of shame, it soon went from humiliation to a simmering frustration with their cruel twist of fate. Anger didn't quite capture the essence of what he felt. It was a bit more serious than that. A deep-seated rage against their rotten luck. He was convinced, with every fiber of his being, that if not for his untimely call to bodily duty, they'd all be halfway across the galaxy by now, safely ensconced in Alliance territory, telling everyone everything.

But instead, they were here. Grounded, not by his hands, but by an unlicensed quarian five years younger than him with hardly a lick of IFR training or a single landing to her name. He supposed though, that it was a gift to even be allowed to bitch about it. It meant the simulations and lessons he'd given her must've counted for something. Against all apparent odds, they were still alive, after all. By her hand.

He reached the helm and took his seat, glancing momentarily to starboard. He could see streaks of Shepard's blood that stained the console. The flecks and drips that marked a dead screen and shattered keyboard. Joker's face was featureless. A battle with poop below, but a war with blood above. He understood the thread they were dangling on. It was precarious and very thin. His walk to CIC had illustrated it as such.

"Adams," Joker said through his O-T, "I'm here. You got power for me yet or no."

"I think so. Try it."

Joker tapped a power key and his computer array flashed to life.

"Look at that." Joker swiped through the UI to get to where he wanted to go, "You did."

"Let me know what you find."

"I will."

He was searching for the flight log. He wanted to see what Tali did that got them here.

Digging into the appropriate folder, he brought up today's flight tracker and began scrolling through until he saw the timestamp he wanted. From there, he read through the breadcrumbs.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

⁃

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

04:00:02 - Scanning subsystems report: Topographical analysis completed. Data archived.

8:05:12 -Helm control: Flight Lieutenant Moreau on scheduled break. Autopilot engaged.

08:06:33 - Environmental systems report: Atmospheric conditions registered. Data archived.

08:07:15 - Proximity alert triggered - Anomaly detected: Unregistered FTL pop. Logging coordinates and tracking initiated.

08:08:03 - Proximity alert triggered - Anomaly detected: Unregistered FTL pop. Logging coordinates and tracking initiated.

08:08:06 - Sensor alert: [NULL | UNDEFINED NUMBER ] FTL signatures detected. Classifying objects as unidentified.

08:08:08 - Defensive posturing enabled. Preparing for potential hostile engagement.

08:08:10 - High veloctiy impact (KINETIC). Origin point undeterminable. Evasive maneuvers engaged.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ▼- Critical mass effect failure.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ- Critical subsystem failure. [Adaptive Energy Distribution Matrix][4], Integrated Damage Control System[8], Gravitic Mass Modulation Array[10]
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ- Critical engine 4 failure | Automatic override failed. Reroute failure.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ- Gravitational spool dispensation failure.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ- YAW/PITCH understeer detected.

08:08:28 - High velocity impact(2)(KINETIC)

08:08:42 - Impact and/or strike detected: PORT Suspect | [?] liquid alloy / magnetohydrodynamic energy [?]

08:08:42 - Critical Failure: Escape Pod 1:8 NON-RESPONSIVE. CRITICAL LOG | Manual clear required.

08:08:43 - Hull breach | (ALL) decks.

08:08:46 - VI Autopilot System Failure: Navigation "AI" kernel crash. LADAR and FTL trajectory calculation systems non-responsive. Manual flight control required.

08:08:54 - High velocity impact(3)(KINETIC). Origin point starboard, section C-3.

08:09:19 - Retract Order Fore Shutters

08:09:25 - Manual Shunt Engaged | Engine 4 Aux Line, Manual Disable.

08:09:28 - Critical failure: Mannual override of GMMA | Mass Effect Modulation Failure.

08:09:33 - Critical failure: Mannual override of GMMA | Mass Effect Modulation Failure.

08:09:49 - High velocity impact (4)(KINETIC). AFT | REAR

08:11:03 - Atmospheric Containment Failure: Deck [2, 3] experiencing rapid decompression. Containment fields non-operative.

08:10:09 - Life support: Atmospheric integrity compromised. Initiating emergency oxygen dispensation.

08:10:27 - Forced Descent Trajectory(?): NON-SCHEDULED | Entry to atmosphere initiated. Aerodynamic control surfaces locked. Heat shield critical.

08:12:11 - Planetary Impact Occurrance: Collision detected. Severe structural damage reported. Systems going offline to preserve core data integrity.

08:24:22 - Post-Impact Status: Critical. Extensive system failure. Survival probability assessment pending.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

⁃

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

Joker stole himself a breath he'd been holding.

Tali, by the lord above, did everything right. Their fate was sealed as soon as they were hit.

It wouldn't have mattered if it were him, Tali, or a vorcha in that chair when it happened. Mass effect fields were down as soon as she was struck by what everyone around him was claiming to be meteors flaring from FTL.

It was a miracle the VI was able to navigate for as long as it did.

Joker took another glance and skimmed through every impact she took.

Four kinetic. So probably by those flying rocks.

Okay.

But the one that stuck out the most was the third of five. The computer reported it as a potential liquid alloy / magnetohydrodynamic discharge.

Reapers used that, he mused. If the computer wasn't wrong, something shot them.

"Adams, I think you'll want to hear this."

"Lay it on me."

"Could be wrong. But I think the Normandy took a hit of liquid alloy."

"It was the third hit, wasn't it? After we lost our auto-pilot."

"Yeah."

"...Interesting."

He was hoping Adams might have some kind of epiphany. "Ideas?"

"...No."

Voices approaching from behind him, Joker turned around to see four marines dressed up in gear with Wrex to head outside.

One of them pat the arm of another and pointed at the pilot. "Hey guys, look: the scatman."

Joker gave the marine a steady bird. "Eat shit and die, Mason."

Finger guns. "Scatman."

Jeff buried himself in his hands.

"I don't get it." Wrex shrugged.

"We can tell you later, you ol' toad."

"Oh. Alright."

The door groaned open and they shuffled out to meet the sharp and invigorating air of Ullipses. Adjusting to the light, their steps were measured as they all swept their gaze across the open and arid land.

The krogan stretched, releasing the tension of their recent ordeal with a deep and resonant sigh before finally looking behind him to see the kind of mess the Normandy was in.

His wine-colored eyes tapered into a scowl.

"You've seen better days." He murmured under a mixed tone of respect and sorrow.

She was broken and defeated. Her hull disfigured. Her skin bearing the scars of their descent; steel warped and torn and open. A wing amputated and her crown of instruments gone.

A somber sight. Their chariot among the stars. Their bastion against Saren and his geth. The galaxy's bulwark against the reapers lay to rest for good.

Yet, in the same breath to Wrex, her ending was a poignant form of tribute. Her last moments had blazed across the sky one final time against the unknown, and held a certain grim honor to it.

However, his two hearts still harbored a wish. One unspoken and heavy, that their final stand had not been here on this remote world, far from the battles they were meant to fight, with him around to bear witness to such an inglorious end.

The thought lingered and he let his stare finally fall away from the scornful spectacle to what seemed more important now.

He fell in line next to the four marines and stared up like the rest of them. The stars still rained, all of them fixed in a singular plane toward some far-off place.

"What do you see." Pressly squawked through the coms.

"Flat land, sir, and a lot of it." Marcus checked his entire radial, "We're in a valley. Can see mountains in every direction. Rocks still falling from the sky."

"Copy. Williams, Stacker, and Kala will be out shortly with the rest of the detachment to start establishing a perimeter and defenses. Assess the hangar and see if we can dig her out. "

"Aye, sir. Right away."

"You go on ahead. I'll be right there." Wrex said quietly.

"Alright. See you around the other side. Let's go."

Wrex didn't let his stare fall from the rocks that stranded them here. He stared from one minute to the next, hoping by some miracle he could see more of what they were. But he couldn't.

He could hear an unmistakable gait behind him.

"You ever see anything like it?" Jeff asked him, situating himself and his crutches next to the krogan, "What do you think it is?"

"I haven't a clue."

He looked at the cripple.

"What did they mean by what they said? About you being called whatever that was."

"Oh, Wrex." Jeff pressed his lips together, staring at the sky, "You're too innocent for that."

The dinosaur almost wanted to groan and figured maybe it was just smarter to drop it entirely.

More of the crew started to file out of the Normandy's entrance, arms full of various supplies to fortify their position because procedure told them to.

"Did we send out our distress call?" Wrex asked Joker, who by now settled himself down on a rock, crutches down by his feet.

"...No."

"Why not?"

"We can't."

Joker didn't meet Wrex's wary and brazen gaze. "Why not?"

"Two of them are broken," Joker said before opening up a palm toward the trail the Normandy blazed, "—and one of them missing. It could be anywhere out there. It could be in space."

They saw Garrus deposit a pile of shovels on the ground and walked back in the Normandy.

"Then it would be wise if we started searching for it. I'll start digging out the Mako." Wrex took that bundle of shovels and began to walk toward the Normandy's nose so he could wrap around to the other side and see where Marcus and the other marines went.

Jeff was now alone and left to his thoughts once more. He chewed his lip idly, eyes drawn to nothing now as he tried to think of how they were going to get out of his sordid mess.

Comm buoys? Out of the picture. Closest one was light years away. And their only quantum communicators were in the two beacons that were destroyed and the one they lost.

Fortunately, not being able to send out an SOS wasn't the end of the world. The Normandy's mandatory wellness check was due tomorrow. Which meant the Alliance would know before tomorrow's COB that something was up.

By now, the entire detachment of marines and many of the crew were working to build themselves what might very well be their home for a very, very long time.

He felt someone squat right by him and he turned to see that it was Tali. She didn't immediately turn to face him either, electing instead to just stare out at the people working and the sky, arms wrapped around her legs.

Seeing as how she wasn't saying anything he returned to his inward meanderings. It was quiet and cold. They watched some of the crew group up and begin hiking alongside the laceration the Normandy had left across the plain, no doubt in search of anything useful that might've careened off it.

"I'm sorry." It came at last. Her voice wasn't like it usually was. It was mellow. Toneless. He faced her again and was compelled to crack a joke, but for once it didn't feel appropriate. She'd been put into an impossible situation and they still came out on top.

Sort of.

"Don't be."

Head only half-buried in arms hugging her knees, she finally looked at him too so she could lock eyes with the man. "I know how important the Normandy is to you."

"I know it's just as important to you too. That's why you don't need to say sorry."

He swore she could hear her snifle and that made him feel awful.

"Hey. Cheer up."

"Hard to."

"Yeah. But we gotta try."

There was another sniffle from her and she faced forward with another short lull of silence to mingle between them. "How...?" Her sound was inconsolable, "How could you possibly have it in you to try when you're... the scatman?"

"Oh, you—" He took his crutch and poked her with it to make her lose her balance, "You are kidding me. Not you."

A laugh somehow managed to escape her and she swept the dirt off her butt with a stupid smirk, "Sorry. I had to."

"Once. One. You get one pass."

"Okay. Fair enough."

He brought his crutch into his lap and begrudgingly grinned. Despite the rain of rocks out in the distance and the Normandy's death, he felt a little bit better knowing he still had everyone he cared about here and alive.

"I think we're gonna be okay, Tali."

"I hope so."

He picked his next segway by pointing to the comet things. "So they really are dropping out of FTL?"

"Yes."

"That reads like a bad sci-fi movie."

"Kind of reminds me of one I watched about two months ago?" Tali remembered, "The Jentarus Requiem."

"Was it good?"

"No. It was terrible." She said, "Everyone died in the end."

"You know Tali, that just makes me feel so much better."

They could see the sky was drawing an audience now.

"I wanted to tell you something." He said.

"Shoot."

"The computer says we took weapons fire. Did you ever notice that?"

Tali's brows knit in the middle. "Did the computer tell you when it happened? We were hit a lot."

"The impact that killed auto-pilot."

"Did it report anything else?"

"That is was a magnetohydrodynamic discharge damage."

"Port side?"

"Port side."

Tali stood, but her stare didn't leave him. Then she turned around to see where the Normandy's name had been burnt away. "Huh."

"Yeah. Looks kind of like it too doesn't it?"

"I..." That wracked her brain and it spat empty. Nothing about their experience felt like an attack. But then again, nothing about this experience was normal either. "...huh."

"I don't know. Something to chew on later I guess. I can forward you the logs to your O-T so you can peek around. Might be a good idea to do an analysis of the damage and see if there's any alloy residue leftover to confirm anything."

"Good idea. But even if it does come up being the case... that doesn't get us anywhere closer to knowing anything about what that is or where it came from." She pointed upward.

"No, it doesn't. But they're clues I suppose." He tapped his hands absently against the crutch he still held. "Did you check up on Shepard yet?"

"...I haven't. No." Tali admitted sheepishly.

"Really?"

"Really."

"That's odd." He said.

She squinted. "Why."

"Because."

"Because why."

Joker streched to buy himself time to say something. "...I think you should go see him. See how he's doing."

"You should, Tali." Garrus agreed, coming up from behind them both, "I'm sure he'd like that."

They could hear biotics flaring from just the other side of Normandy. No doubt from Wrex probably using it to tunnel their way to get the Mako out of the Hangar.

"Maybe I should." She said, standing, "I'll see you guys later."

"Alrighty."

"Bye."

And with that, she left to go back inside, leaving Garrus and Joker to oversee the crew digging foxholes and erecting camouflaged nets.

Garrus was probably the last person he wanted to be next to right now.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed." Garrus finally breathed, glancing down to where Jeff sat, "All is fair after my little mishap last week."

"Could never get smell of your barf completely off the floor. Guess we can call it even."

The turian blinked and he stared deeply into his palms, "Don't think I'll ever get the smell of you off me either. But sure. We'll call it even."

Jeff was so mortified, he took off his hat while he pinched his eyes with a thumb and pointer. "You're a real bastard, Garrus."

"Only to you, Joker."

Without wanting to wallow in his humiliation, he pointed with his nose to the pile of shovels Garrus had brought outside. "How many do we even have?"

"Twelve. Thirty five if you count everyone's kit shovel." Garrus brought up his omni-tool to show him what they had in mind.

Jeff rose a brow as he took a peek of the trenches they planned on excavating around certain parts of the Normandy. "That really standard procedure?"

"Yes. It's your navy. How could you not know?"

"Thought we were too good for emergencies like that."

"Ah."

"Sure that ain't too much work?"

"With two biotics doing all the heavy lifting, we should be fine. Shouldn't take long honestly. Wanna give us a hand?"

"Funny."

The turian took one from the pile and smiled. "Well. I'm gonna see about helping Wrex and the others get that hangar cleared out."

"Okay."

One last long stare upward and the revelry was gone. "As soon as we can get the Mako out, we're going to find out where those things are leading."

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

---

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

As Tali reared the corner, she could see the doors to the infirmary were held open with several of the crew strewn about on stretchers and beds. Carefully crossing its threshold without disturbing anyone, she saw more of the same. A haphazard sprawl of kit and supply alike lying about the tarnished space. Liara and Chakwas' staff tended to the dozen or so injured souls inside.

Odd. She didn't see him here though.

"Doctor," Tali said softly to the Karin, "Where's John?"

"He... is...—" She punctuated her words under the attention of wrapping Jeriah in a splint, "Uhm. In his room, dear. I'd actually like for you to go check on him."

"Oh. Okay."

Chakwas gave Tali a wink. "Don't rile him up, sweetie."

She felt her cheeks redden and her words stammered. "I—I won't."

"I'll be there soon actually to check on him. Figured he didn't need to be here when he could wait in the comfort of his own bed in the meantime."

"Is he alright?"

"I believe so. But I would like to give him another lookover before I clear him."

"Okay."

"Go on now. I'll be there in just a few short minutes."

Giving Chakwas a steady smile, she turned on her heel and made her way to his room and knocked.

"Doc, I'm— I'm fine."

"It's me." She said.

The doors crept open, revealing John with a bandage draped across his nose.

"Oh. Well. Hey to you. You like it?" He pointed at the patch on his face and tried to smile but failed miserably at it.

"Aren't you supposed to be lying down?" She said with a squinty look.

He gave her a dismissive sway of the hand.

"She's lucky I'm still in here. I should be out there. Digging with the others."

She ignored what he said and walked past him. "Chakwas said I should check up on you. To make sure you're okay."

"I'm okay. Swelling's down and everything. No more lisp."

"Could you sit at least?" She asked.

With a show of hands, he assented and went to sit in his chair. She came up to him and checked his bandage.

"Oh, John. You poor thing," She murmured sadly, "Does it hurt?"

"Raging headache. Bit dizzy."

She brought her hands into his focus. "May I?"

His smile came up soft. "You don't have to ask."

She carefully palpated the bridge of his nose and was happy to see his bones felt okay. And that the bandage was still secure.

"You should've seen the way you hit that keyboard. Keelah. It was worthy of an award."

"Thanks. I'll make sure to collect my Oscar."

She swept his shoulders of imaginary dust and nodded. "I haven't an idea of what that is... but you look okay. You're okay."

"Thanks, Doc." He said with a wry grin.

She sat on the edge of his bed and sighed. Quietness fogged the air.

"What are you thinking about?" John decided to ask finally.

"This." She said, throwing up her hands to show the room, "Everything."

John was careful with the way he rubbed his face. "Yeah." He let his head hang a bit, "I know."

On an impulse, she felt compelled to say it. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." He said without even letting a second pass.

"That's..." She abstained from trying to trip over her words and brought a hand up to her head, "—Easier said than done."

"I know. Don't kill yourself about it. It is what it is."

She gave him a mirthless laugh. "I don't know how you always do it."

"Do what?"

"How you always just..." Her stare faltered and she struggled to search for words that would find the right purchase, "...know what to say."

A smile crept up. "It's because I'm perfect. Remember?"

"Oh." Another laugh came out, though it was full of sarcasm. "I forgot."

A charismatic shrug that made her heart melt and he laughed.

When his laughter died down, his tone remained soft and caring but carried a level of seriousness. "Look, Tali. I don't want you second-guessing what could've been. I know that's what you do. So don't. Don't overthink this."

"Okay." Came a whisper.

The doors to his quarters opened and Chakwas walked in, O-T glowing in one hand and a pen-sized flashlight in the other.

"Hello Commander. Hello Tali."

"Hi." She waved.

"Well. Time to see how our favorite spectre is doing."

She swept that light across his eyes and ran a scan of his head before reading through the notes populating on the screen.

He leaned in slightly "So?"

"John, I— I'm not clearing you. Not yet. The safest thing is a little more time."

"No. Absolutely not." John immediately went to his feet and gave her a stiff hand, "Karin, I've waited long enough. We don't have the luxury of time—"

"John, please. Listen to her." She pleaded.

"Commander? Fine," Chakwas relented by waving him over to stand in front of her, "One check then. If you'll allow."

"Make it quick."

"Tali, if you could, stand next to the commander."

She did as requested.

"John, look to the right for me please and stay like that."

He looked right and rose a brow. "How's this gonna—"

She gave him a dart straight to his neck and it caught him by surprise.

"Doc," He smacked his neck as if he were trying to kill a mosquito and stepped back. "Did you just—...?"

He gave Tali a deadpanned stare and was awake long enough to see Tali's shifty and wide-eyed stare. He slumped right into the poor quarian's arms and she sent out an audible oof as she caught his dead weight.

"Let's carry him to the bed, dear."

"What did you do?" Tali almost wanted to cry out in shock.

"A little cocktail of thiopental sodium and fentazolin. 5 milligrams for the lightweight John is." Chakwas said through a weary yet amused yawn, "His head is about as thick as his stubbornness. I will not risk his safety until I am one hundred percent—head to toe—that our John is okay."

She just sat there, holding dead-weight-John in her arms, her stare blank.

"Tali, you know exactly where he'd be had I not done that. He'll be up in an hour. Just in time for me to conclusively ensure his safety."

Tali relented and they gently carried him over to the bed before moving the comforter aside to lay him down.

"Please tell me you think he'll be okay." Tali murmured.

"I think so." Chakwas hummed positively, "Don't worry."

Tali, without it even being a thought, went to untie his boots and slipped them off his feet before tucking him in.

"Take care of him, please." She said, her stare lingering, "...I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I promise, my dear." Karin affirmed, watching her take several steps backward before leaving altogether.

Alone now with John, she sighed, a mix of fond exasperation and deep care coloring her tone. "Oh, John..." She gazed at him with his slacked jaw, oblivious to the world around him, "You have no idea how lucky you are."