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2-3-2184

[ EXODUS CLUSTER ]

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Amid the dim glow of her omni-tool's interface, Tali combed through her library of all the apps and files she owned. She had a lot. Hundreds at this point.

Manuscripts and manuals. Exploded diagrams and dimension sheets. Below it her IES calculator and thrust vector plotter. Even lower still, her relay flight mapper and internal atmospheric analyzer. Or the more rarely used radio frequency modulator.

She scrolled.

Her operational security handbook, environmental regulations compendium, and subspace emission matrice.

On and on she scrolled through the digital wasteland, no longer even pausing to read what flew over the screen. None of this stuff would do her any good anymore.

One by one, she dragged and dropped them into the bin. When the last of them finally disappeared from her shrinking grid, she breathed a sigh and played with the weight of her omni-tool as if she'd made it lighter.

John would've laughed at that and it made her brood and glower. She skimmed through the files next.

Videos? Not worth going through right now.

Pictures? Nope. No need to be touching those.

There were thousands of downloads though. Documents and hyperspecific adapters and drivers. En masse, they were dropped into the trash receptacle without a second glance. Not until she reached the string of text messages between her and the crew. Her second digit hovered pensively over the patiently waiting delete button and wearily decided they were worth keeping. Holding them as a keepsake to remember all the people she'd lost.

John among them. She didn't have the courage to go there, to view her texts with him. Most of it barely broached personal conversation, but they were still valuable. Even if she couldn't bear the idea of ever reading them.

She archived them instead. Stuffed them into an unlabeled folder and didn't bother naming it anything.

A child, one that couldn't have even reached six yet, stared at her from his seat, elbows on the armrest they had to share together.

"Hi." He said shyly.

Spring cleaning momentarily forgotten, she looked up and faced him. "...Hello."

"What are you?"

Her bracelet withered away and she gave him her full attention, nose scrunching because she didn't quite understand the question. "Pardon?"

"Are you an alien?"

"I suppose I am." She said with a small smile.

"What kind?"

"Well, your kind call me quarian."

"You look kinda like me."

"Well, thank you." She said, unknowing of what else to say.

"Why do you wear a mask?"

"Germs. I don't like them." She answered, small smile still there. For a moment, she felt a little lighter conversing with a youngling like him. His hair was long and blonde, and his eyes green. His mother, who shared many of the same attributes as him, kept her focus on the magazine in front of her but smiled from the sidelines since her son was trying to engage in pleasantries.

"Oh. Did you pick the color?"

"I did, yes. It's my favorite color. What's your favorite color?"

"Purple."

"Then I guess you and I both like the same color."

"My name's Jon. Spelled J-O-N."

She swallowed at the coincidence. "It's nice to meet you, Jon." She extended out a hand for him to shake and he took it. "My name's Tali."

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Backpack shouldered, she fell in line with all the other passengers and disembarked into an aerobridge that would take them to port.

Unfortunately, her connecting flight would require that she exit this terminal and take a tram that would have her going through security all over again. She clung onto some false hope for an uneventful passage, yet the frequency at which she was selected at random was far more than what coincidence should've ever allowed. Past encounters were painting her a bleak picture. Bag turned inside out. Omni-tool confiscated. And then a delightful interlude of detention to follow while some sleuth, pulling down a whopping 30k a year, put her through their ritual of inconvenience.

The perks of tailing a Spectre everywhere you went was one she would miss.

She exited the aerobridge and into Noveria's spaceport.

She might've been on a different part of the planet, far removed from Port Hanshan she'd visited eight months ago, but the architecture wasn't any different. Concrete floors, walls, and ceilings. A building more akin to a fortress than anything else. It was a practical application given the planet's climate. But it never looked all that inviting for the souls that visited. Nor for the ones that inhabited this place.

The credits must've been plentiful if one were to ever decide to live here electively.

She also just hated Noveria. Everywhere she looked, the cold impersonal surfaces reminded her of that haunted facility marred by the consequences of subverting science. She hated what had happened here. The suffering that had transpired was a kind that could not be explained through words alone. Peak 15 was and would always be her crucible of horror. She always understood atrocity. Probably understood it more than most. She wasn't blind to its effect no matter how visceral it could be. But witnessing the raw brutality and the suffering was something she could hardly describe. Words could not grade the scale of the violating nature of the rachni and what they did to their victims. Cruelty as people knew it was just some word. The rachni tortured their victims with the same sacrosanct as a psychotic child would a pet. It was all play and pleasure. They derived joy from what they inflicted.

The hellscape that was Peak 15 had left an indelible mark on her. Everything about it. The sickness that festered there and her reaction to it all. And the way she'd struggled to make sense of it in the aftermath. It was a mess of regret and disgrace.

Reflecting deeper, it almost seemed paradoxical. One might readily assume that enduring their plight on Ullipses would dwarf all else. But it didn't. The colllectors, for all their mystery, were clearly driven by some type of discernible goal, however obscured it was. The Rachni of Peak 15 had no higher meaning. Without a song to guide them, their purpose was only to serve mindless violence. That's what made them more terrifying to her. Perhaps in time, that would change. Who knew.

So caught in the reverie of her self-reflecting, Tali realized she'd been wandering without direction. Returning to reality, she looked up and searched for signs to get her to where she needed to go.

Tram. To the left.

Okay.

She took that left. She took the tram. Exited to terminal 9 to Aether Lines. Back to the ticket counter. Ticket in hand. Then to security to present ID. When that wasn't enough for the officer, she procured her passport next. They let her through.

Approaching the second officer, she made it through to the third and fourth as they began their theater of security. Bag on the conveyor, it disappeared into their machine and blarred.

Nice.

Randomly selected.

With an inward sigh, she waited for the inevitable, a salarian already readying himself with gloves to likely dump all her shit over a table.

"This your bag, ma'am?" He asked her because procedure told him to.

"Yes. I promise you I don't have much." She rasped.

He blinked his beady eyes and narrowed them. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry," She mollified, hoping not to betray any chance of getting off scot-free. "Please. Perform your search."

She was holding up the line now.

"Ma'am, please step aside to keep traffic flowing." The salarian requested.

"—ehm, Sorry," She stepped aside, "I—" Her voice died when a tall turian, face painted blue much like Garrus' facial tattoo's, stood out to greet her while travelers from behind did their best to weasel by. One of them Jon, waving to her, expression worried and confused.

She only glanced at the little boy with his mother and sighed. She knew this'd be the last time she would see him. So she waved a little wave despite this unfolding situation and did her best to not just break down then and there.

"This isn't a search, ma'am," The turian said plainly, "My name is Detective Maridus. This is a detainment. You're being detained."

"...What? I—"

"Follow me."

"Wait, " She stammered, "Why? Why am I being detained?"

He stood there for a moment, his face an unreadable stone. "We have strong suspicions that you are forging your identity. Please. Follow me."

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For thirty minutes she sat in this room and waited. The last ten of them with Detective Maridus skimming through this mountain of work in front of him on the cold table.

Tali peered at his fattened folder with a daft look on her face. What the hell were those for? What could he possibly be looking at? Why paper? Why an entire reem of it?

Were they documents meant to trap her in some kind of lie? Photos to compare her figure? A profile of her last visit over half a year ago with John?

"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya." The turian finally said aloud as he set his hands down.

"Yes?" She answered his empty call.

"Our technicians are doing another deep sweep of your ID and passport now. Before they find something, I need to know, now, who you are." He said flatly.

Tali's frown fell. What came next was bewilderment.

"Go on." He said with the sway of his hand, "I want to know why you thought it prudent to pass through our doors in the manner that you did."

She couldn't do anything but blink to try and process one passing moment from the next. "I— really don't understand. How am I supposed to even answer that?"

His visage held. "You're the Tali'Zorah."

"Yes."

He leaned in. "The."

She leaned in as well, though her ear pointed at him slighty, eyes holding their stare and narrowing. "Yes."

He drew up an arm and gave her an open palm, elbow on the table to signal his break in understanding. "...Why would she be booking passage on a common passenger airship? Why would she be here by herself and not aboard the Normandy? Odd, no?"

"I—I don't understand." Tali uttered again in an agonizing sigh, "I'm going home. I'm... returning from pilgrimage."

If he heard her, he made no indication that he did. "Why are you alone? Why are you hopping on civilian liners like any other passenger? No security detail or the expected fanfare. Status comes with protocol for Coalition and Alliance operators."

She stood up slowly and grasped both ends of the table which had the turian reflexively place a hand on his tazer.

This was why she was delayed? Because it looked odd? That going home was weird?

She was done with the games and the bullshit. Even if it would get her nowhere closer to leaving this room, her voice came out like a blade to stab someone with. The council's non-disclosure could go to hell.

"There is no status. There is no protocol. Detective Maridus, I have shocking news for you. The Normandy is gone. John Shepard is dead."

His eyebrows lit up in surprise, then slowly fell back into a furrow. "Those are... extraordinary claims."

Her voice broke as she pointed at herself with both hands. "Give me my omni-tool and I'll show you. I have nothing to hide, you tak'tal prat'ya."

"...Ma'am," The turian breathed after a quiet moment, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

She reeled herself in slightly at calling him a useless cunt.

"Omni-tool or not," He continued, "That won't prove your identity."

She threw her hands up in the air in a mockery of this investigation. "So what will? You think my ID is forged. You think my passport is fake. What. will."

He held his hard stare against her long enough for her to take the hint and sit back down, hands and legs crossed.

He held his glare for a moment longer and, satisfied she was going to stay put, went back to his papers. She stared and waited. Hate melting her. She looked to the mirrored window beside them as if she could see who was standing behind it.

"Peak 15."

Maridus looked up. "Ma'am?"

"Peak 15." She repeated again, even louder, eyes welded to the reflective glass, "This isn't a threat. This is a warning. If I'm not let out of here inside five minutes, you'll either have to kill me or watch what I tell the first journalist I see about what happened there."

Her mentioning what had been a guarded secret seemed to catch the immediate attention of anyone standing behind the two-way mirror. Because the com bead in the turian's ear warbled and he focused in on it.

Soon enough, the whispering speaker stopped. Detective Maridus sighed, closed the folder gently, and rose.

"Ma'am. I'm sorry. This was a giant misunderstanding."

She just stared up at him, surprised at how well that managed to work. He strode to the door to open it and paused at the threshold before looking back with the door ajar.

"Your belongings will be returned to you shortly. We thought a person of your renown resorting to such a common means of travel back to the Flotilla struck us as incredibly odd. It raised suspicions that perhaps someone was masquerading under your identity. Initial checks showed Normandy still recording active service and was scheduled for additional operational tasking. Additional verification from ICDS clarified the discrepancy with us just now. I'm sorry to say that your outburst and threat was coincidental."

He idly toyed with the folder's weight and released a weary sigh. "Words for context, Tali'Zorah, though you're likely well aware. Those with ties to Spectres, even tangentially, enjoy certain... indirect privileges. Impersonating one is a foolhardy endeavor and it rarely happens. But many believe that claiming an association to one instead is somehow more palatable to skirt authorities and the rule of law. We had our doubts and were mistaken. Our apologies."

Silence between the man and her.

"...If it is true that the first human spectre has passed on, then you have my condolences."

And with that, he left as quietly as possible, leaving her alone.

Time slowed to a crawl, its elongated march consuming her soul until she wept in silent surrender. Indifferent to the gaze of anyone beyond the window, she broke down, her intrusive and arthritic shadow descending to devour her with its embrace.

It would end her someday if given the chance. There was no escaping it. No light to reach out to. No hope to chase after.

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[ SERPENT NEBULA | CITADEL | KITHOI WARD ]

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An aircar sailed through Kithoi's airways and banked comfortably in a serene arc amidst the ward's monolithic skyscrapers to head further inland. A slow and graceful pan of the cityscape convened and brought forth a view of the political nexus of the presidium and its zenith, the council chamber, that spanned upward in a thin column toward the center of the Citdael's ringed foundation.

Within its hold, Liara sat, her features etched with a blank mask as they passed through the ornamented and variegated thoroughfares. They weaved across the latticed sinew of connecting bridges, all while the tiny shadow of their taxi fleeted over the grandeur.

Taralos Amphitheater spanned their view as they skimmed overhead, its tall walls and domed architecture gleaming under the light of the nebula. The Malicus Docks that flanked Kithoi Point brought in and sent out its choreographed display of commerce and transport, their shadows blotting the cityscape below in billowy pillars.

She glanced, for no particular reason, to see what Garrus was doing. There he sat, hands interlocked neatly between his legs as he gazed up at the panorama of the wards opposite of them.

"Can you name them all?" She asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"The wards." She said, the thrum of the traffic a soft symphony of whines and hums, "Can you name them."

"Yes. Of course." Garrus answered simply. He didn't part his stare from the sight.

A flicker of a small smile surfaced and she returned to the idled sightseeing. More views for her gaze. To their left, the Larathos institution. Further out, Kithoi's Actal Substation and Edroki Plaza.

"Can you name them?" He decided to ask her.

"I don't remember them all." She answered honestly, eyes anchored to the citied vista.

The aircar began its slow descent and decelerated. Straight ahead, their destination grew closer: the Per'ana Terminal. Its name originating from some esteemed quarian centuries ago.

From their height, she gandered at the walkways below. The life underneath drew closer and she could begin to pick out the details of the denizens. Convoys of elcor and salarians negotiating their way around them. Humans gathered in their circles with turians conversing and working. Asari mingled and interposed through the space. Volus merchants selling and trading. Hanar and krogan mucking about. Drell and the occasional quarian in the busy fray. Even a batarian or two could be seen frolicking.

A melting pot of the galaxy's races. A working symbol of unity and cooperation. Liara took in the view and was happy to know that, even in the blanket of her woes, that life carried on.

They fell under the dominating shadow of a ward's curving arm and the microcosm darkened. Their view overhead grew darker still as the glass canopy that stretched over them brought an imposing view of the Systems Alliance Carrier, the SSV Hawking.

Then the view was relinquished entirely to the arteries of the Citadel. Blackness subsumed, and the cabin was dark, their descent now altogether vertical to make their final approach.

"ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ - 𝑨𝑻 - 𝘗𝘦𝘳'𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘛𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭."

Out they came from the ceiling to the commons and their respective parking space. They could already see her there standing with an Alliance duffel at her feet waiting for them.

The doors crack open with a hiss and they both stepped out to greet her.

"Ash."

"Hey guys." She said weakly. She drew Liara in for a hug and then Garrus.

"What time do you leave?"

"Twenty minutes." Ash said, looking behind her to the crowds and the Alliance servicemen that packed the terminal.

Garrus reached for her duffel and shouldered it.

"That's enough time for some coffee." He said with a meek smile.

"Now that sounds like a good idea."

They found their way to the nearest café, ordered their beverages, and settled into a cozy arrangement of seats and sofas that encircled a coffee table.

The turian decided to speak up first, holding his cup close to his face, "What happens to you now?"

"Back to Earth. More debriefing. More counseling."

"You're joking me." Liara grimaced. They'd already been foisted against two months of that. What could they hope to gain from even more?

"No, I'm not. Not looking forward to it. After, more leave. I'm going to be grounded for a while longer. Plenty of paperwork is going to follow me. Then I'll be put on reassignment. New ship. New unit."

She stared off to the commotion. "New crew."

"How much waiting?"

She chuckled, though it was absent of anything merry. "That's most of my job. Waiting. It's the navy way."

She sighed and finally just gave it a straight answer. "I don't know."

The brunette stared at the contents of her cup through the little hole in her lid. "What about you? Liara?"

"I'm—" There was a faintness in the voice, "I'm not sure."

"Back to archeology maybe?"

"Perhaps." Liara felt bleakness and didn't feel all that impassioned by that prospect anymore. The repears dulled that kind of compulsion to do anything extracurricular. Wasting time brushing off prothean remains and artifacts while what loomed over the galaxy seemed... foolish.

"Garrus?" Ash asked next.

"I don't know either."

"C-sec?"

"No. Not a chance in hell."

She grinned. "Good answer."

The three of them all sipped at the same time from their cups.

"...Guys, I don't think I'll be able to contact you once I leave. Not for a long while. Tell Tali, if she ever does reply, that I'm going to miss her."

"We will."

She frowned slightly and looked like she was caught in some distant self-reflection. Again, her gaze fell to the cup cradled in her hands, the steam caught in a careful study.

"I'm gonna miss you guys too."

"This is just goodbye for now, Ash. I know someday we'll see each other again." Garrus said quietly.

Ashley found herself ruminating and reflecting, mind drifting back to the early days. Initially, her feelings toward Garrus—and indeed, all of Shepard's misfits—might have been misconstrued as prejudice. Yet, that wasn't really the best way to describe it. The Normandy, despite its collaborative spirit, was thoroughly Alliance at heart. The eclectic composition of Shepard's team had struck her as unconventional and at odds with their success when one could draw comparisons to what a well-oiled squad of N-level operators could do in their place. Their direction and leadership had no match. Shepard was proof of that.

Yet, after it all, she was thankful it hand't gone that way. The path not taken, the one populated by a team of humanity's finest, now seemed a narrow, unenlightened course. The diversity and strength of character she'd been a part of because of Shepard's atypical command structure had irrevocably changed her. Missing out on the camaraderie, their challenges, and the growth brought by these individuals would have been a profound loss.

Regrettably, not all her farewells could be spoken. Wrex had departed with a simple gesture, boarding a pre-owned vessel without fanfare. Tali, too, was absent, and left everyone with a void where a proper goodbye should've been. A pang of grief in Ash's heart swelled knowing she'd never likely never see that woman again. In some way though, Williams understood that dwelling on what couldn't be changed served little purpose. She figured Tali felt that the most out of all of them, given her more... personal relationship with the Commander.

She'd have to make do with what she had here in front of her instead.

"I know I wasn't kind to you for the first few months that we got to know each other, Garrus. I never apologized for that. So, before I go, I want to tell you I'm sorry."

"It's a bridge built over water."

"It's water under the bridge, Garrus." She corrected.

"Hm."

"Wherever life takes you... just take care of yourselves." Ash intoned with a peaceful resolve, "Please be safe."

"We will."

"Put your coffee down. I need to hug you guys one last time before I head out."

They did just that and Ashley stood up to give them each one last squeeze.

When she hugged Garrus, she hugged him even tighter than Liara. "You're bony. You know that?"

"I forgot to put lotion on this morning."

She laughed and felt a tear well in an eye as she stepped back.

"I love you guys. I'm going to keep you in my prayers."

Garrus reached for her duffel and draped it over her head so she could carry it.

A chime was announced through the PA. "Attention. Attention. Final boarding call for all designated military personnel—"

"—That's my call, guys." Ash murmured, looking at the two of them expectantly.

"—iform Code 2250-Dress is in effect. Transport to commence in T-minus 20 mikes. This is the final sortie to SSV Hawking—"

"Goodbye, Ash." He raised a hand and squeezed her shoulder, "Until next time."

Liara touched a hand with hers in a final parting gesture. The human took some careful steps back, eyes still locked on the two before finally turning around. They watched her leave and disappear into the uniformed crowd of alliance servicemen beginning their embarkation to the carrier, listening quietly to the PA, their eyes fixed on the blue sea of foot traffic.

"—ns are at bay control. Failure to report will result in AWOL status. Coordinate with your unit's CPO for accountability and final manifest confirmation. Transit corridor Charlie is now restricted to military traffic only. I repeat, final boarding call to SSV Hawking is commencing."

A chime played, signaling the end of the announcement. ""𝘗𝘦𝘳'𝘈𝘯𝘢 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇ."

"Goddess, this is so hard to see." Liara finally crumbled and felt herself whimper and close her eyes. "I can't stand this any longer."

"I know, Liara." Garrus said quietly, drawing up a hand to hold her shoulder, "Come on. Let's head back."

She sniffled and drowned the sorrows for only a little while longer. "...Okay."

They both turn around to see business cards on each of their cups.

Neither of them said anything as they reached down to study the little things. Its front was an embossed gradient. From left to right, a satin black that transformed to orange, then white.

Garrus turned it over.

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⁵ ⁵⁶⁵⁴⁵⁴-⁵⁶⁵⁸⁵⁶⁴

ＪＯＨＮ １１:４４

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The turian looked up and around for anyone who might've deposited these. But saw no one.

He locked his eyes on Liara. "...Did you see—?"

"—No." Knowing already what he was asking, eyes back on the card as if to gather another clue, "What do you think it means?"

Garrus was about to drop them right into the trash, but had a hunch these weren't mere cards poorly advertising some obfuscated business. "A phone number and John's name next to some more numbers. Don't know."

"I don't think that's a date. Or that it's referencing Shepard." Liara whispered, sitting down and gawking at it.

"Actually." Garrus narrowed his stare, thinking briefly of Ash, "I think I might just know."

Shortly, on the screen on his omni-tool, he found his answer.ㅤ ㅤ

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ㅤ ㅤ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴛʜ.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

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She dreamed of soaring toward a dying star. A red giant at the twilight of its celestial dance, unfurling its gaseous arms to the vast and black expanse.

Around it, spirals of light skirted the edge of an inky circle, a black hole where existence and light dared not tread.

The star's light waned, its heart quieting. Before the quarian, the aged sun whispered its swan song and ignited into its final show of defiance.

It collapsed into a supernova.

She watched with hardly a flinch. Bore witness to its rite of death as had many before it.

No spectacle could match the weight of the burden she carried. Blacker than any void. Stronger than any stellar pull.

In this tragic tableau, she too joined the star's fate. Ensnared by its gravity, her spirit thrashed into an elliptical path from its howling call to darkness.

She screamed. Not from the pain. But from an unyielding inferno that raged within.

Her eyes opened slowly and she had to remember where she was again.

Ah, right.

She was inside some trashed-up corvette surrounded by trashy people on her second to last ride home to Hamshee station.

Her eyes stung, so she closed them and rest herself back on the headrest with fluff coming out the back.

"Ms. Tali?" Jon said. She looked down to see the same kid on her last flight sitting next to her. She blinked and furrowed her brows.

"Uhm... Jon. I..."

"Are you okay? It looked like you were having a bad dream." The five-year-old whispered, concern drawn all over his face.

She looked to the other passengers beside and behind her. Then she cast her eyes to his sleeping mother before landing them back on the boy. "I... I was. Did I—? Did I make noise?"

"No." He shook his head, his blonde hair ruffling around from a haircut that was long past overdue, "You were just saying things really quiet. Whispering." He said sadly, eyes worried for her, "It's okay. It was just a nightmare. It's not real, Ms. Tali."

She forgot to breathe and finally sucked in a quiet breath. "Yeah." she said to calm the boy before sinking further into her seat and closing her eyes. "Just a little nightmare. I'm okay."

"Tali?"

She faced him and blood drained from her.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒓.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝑺𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 ᴏᴘᴇɴ 𝒂𝒏𝒅 ʟɪꜰᴇʟᴇss 𝒂𝒏𝒅 ɢᴀᴘɪɴɢ.

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She woke. Eyes snapping violently open, though she did not move a millimeter from the table she'd been sleeping on. A chilled sweat dripped from her brow. Her heart thrummed. As she pulled herself up from folded arms, the gentle noise of the ship's cabin began to return, with it, the phased buzz of an incessant beep from her omni-tool that she'd left on the armrest at the cockpit.

She rose from her seat and retrieved the device before slipping it on and turning it off. Back was the silence and the nominal hush of the cabin.

She was ten minutes out from finally reaching the Migrant Fleet. She could see them now sprawled across the windshield. A cloudlike aggregation of tens of thousands of ships. From this distance, the faint and comforting pulse of navigation lights twinkled rhythmically in the black.

Her rental ship was a respite from the packed spaceliner crowds. When she'd finally arrived at Hamshee station, she felt a little relieved knowing that the last of her traveling would be without the company of strangers.

She kept staring. Mind drawing up the nightmarish jumpscare against her will. Her heart dragged on the floor and she wanted nothing more than to crumple her hallucinations like a ball of paper to toss in the trash.

"User," The VI spoke to her through the ship's PA, "…Hailing frequencies have been intercepted. IFF is active; we are being targeted."

Lazily, she flipped a single switch to accept and open the transmission.

"Unidentified vessel, you are entering Migrant Fleet airspace. Maintain your current heading. Do not deviate."

"Copy control." She answered. There was a long and static-filled pause.

"Foreign vessel, state your purpose and content for approach. Issue receipt to call."

"This is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya; Requesting permission to dock with the MFS Rayya. I return from pilgrimage." Tali said calmly.

Another long pause on the traffic controller's end. No doubt the guy was getting his electronic list of passphrases for quarian pilgrims ready.

"...Please verify."

She pulled from memory the phrase that would grant her passage. She held her breath for a moment and eventually closed her eyes to recite it aloud, frown from her recent nightmare never leaving. "After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust…" She paused with sadness, "…I will return to where I began."

"Welcome home, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Please follow the directed flight path to docking bay 32. Do not deviate, or you will be subject to enforcement action."

Funny coincidence that she get assigned the very cradle she'd used to begin her pilgrimage.

"Thank you. I'd like a security and quarantine team to meet me, the ship is not clean."

"Understood. Teams will be dispatched upon your arrival."

And like that, she was within the Flotilla's influence. She leveled her stare back through the windshield, eyes as heavy as they've always been, and waited.

Her ship took the assigned flight path, and from one minute to the next, the flotilla grew and grew until she began to weave through the slowly marching army of ships of every size and of every type made by every race in the galaxy.

She stared lethargically at the sight through her window. Eventually, the ball that was the Rayya appeared, and, like landing on a tiny moon, its wide arc gradually became a horizon, her shape filling the space until the woman was facing only carapaced walls of gray. Cradle 32 wiggled out from its clasps and reached out to get a hold of her rental ship. She could hear it latch on with a whirring thud of metal and composites.

She powered down her engines, hand still grasping the pilot's headrest, and reached for her backpack to meet home. A small ladder to take, she took it down to the airlock and keyed the door to let herself through.

It opened in a slow whoosh and was met by a party of only two.

A single guard dressed in a plate carrier was the first thing she saw. Behind him was the sanitation janitor with a tank strapped to his back and a jet mister in hand.

"Hello, Tali." The soldier greeted candidly, relaxing slightly.

"Hi Jaeger."

"Feels like you've hardly been gone." He lowered his rifle from his readied position, "How you doing, kiddo?"

"I'm okay." She lied.

"Welp," Jaeger stepped aside to let the janitor do his thing, "Alrighty Veyle. You can head on in."

"Hey Veyle." She gave him a meek smile.

"Hello Tali." The old man greeted as he sloshed his way by her to begin his spray down.

"Where's Mima?" Tali asked Jaeger.

"She almost missed your text," Jaeger pointed behind him with his head, "But she's already waiting for you. Come on. Follow me."

She stepped aboard. One year and six months and she was back exactly from where she came. It was all as she remembered it. Insofar, her home hadn't changed the entire time she was gone.

As they walked, she saw the same tiny dripping leak just next to door number six to biomass inductor one. The same bucket catching its drops.

They kept walking. The pipe above temperance duct number eight that traveled down the hall still rattled from two missing U-bolts. And it still looked like the little gray-blue tarps covering doors two, eight, and nine for biomass examiner two and three were still there. She sighed and took it all in.

"Still the same as you left her, Tali'Zorah." A man by the name of Dohn'Sai said, passing by her and waving.

"Disappointing, Dohn." Tali called out with a forced smile, "I told you to fix the leak on door number six before I left."

"The replacement part's been back ordered for a year." He said before waving her off and turning down a hallway, "Nice to see you again, my dear. It's good to have you back."

"Yeah." She muttered lamely under her breath. The forced smile fell back from where it came. They turned the corner together and there she was, waiting.

"Tali!" Mima'Agwahdal vas'onsvaa'nar Rayya (yes, you heard that right) spread her arms out as wide as she could as soon as she saw her take that bend with Jaeger, "Oh my, oh my, oh my. It is so good to see you!"

"Mima," Tali said, picking up the smile she just dropped, "I missed you."

They hugged and Mima shooed off Jaeger to which he obliged.

"See you around, Tali."

Tali waved to him with a side eye from the hug she was still in. "Bye Jaeger."

Tali had known Mima'Agwahdal for about as long as she could remember. Their friendship was about the only constant in the flux of their lives aboard the liveship they called home. Five years older than her, Mima's departure for pilgrimage had also come much earlier and, coincidentally, had left the Rayya only a few months before Tali's mother had passed; leaving her to wallow alone and grieve without anyone to lean on. Two years Mima had been gone.

When she came back, she pledged both herself and her gift back to the Rayya—where she knew her skills would be needed most— despite the consequence of making her name sound weird and the stigma that would follow. Her expertise however extended out to all the liveships and she'd become a nomad among nomads—jumping between them wherever she was needed most. Thankfully, in a stroke of luck, she was currently posted on the Rayya, which granted her the opportunity to meet Tali on her return.

She was also the last of four of Tali's friends. By duty and obligation, facets catalyzed by pilgrimage, her friends went their separate ways. Only Mima remained in Tali's shifting and shrinking world.

But Tali knew, inevitably, that even this relationship would soon draw to a soft close. If not the distance that would separate them, then the swollen gulf of sorrow she'd been left with. Her ghosts cast shadows that not even Mima's presence could fully penetrate, she knew.

The women separated and Mima held her out as she gave her arms a tender squeeze. "Keelah, my little Nar'lel! It is so good to see you safe and sound."

Tali stuffed her thoughts away elsewhere and tried to focus on the now.

"How has the Rayya been since I've been gone?"

"Exactly the way you left it."

"That's good."

"Well, come on now. Let's get you comfortable." Mima parted Tali from her backpack and shouldered it.

"Where's dad?" Tali asked.

"Mm. Not sure where your daddy is." She said with a shrug as they walked deeper into the Rayya's belly, "I'm not even sure he's on the ship, to be honest."

"Oh."

Ever the one to never let an awkward moment simmer, Mima gave Tali a squinty grin. "You must have so many stories to tell. You know how often I saw you on the news?"

"Not too often I hope."

"Enough to make the boys look." She jabbed. The old Tali would have blushed. All that did now was make her want to sneer and disappear.

"Funny." She croaked.

"So what's it gonna be?"

"For what?"

"Your new ship?"

Tali had barely mused that in the two days it took traveling home.

It used to be one of Tali's favorite pastimes in her younger years. She remembered her time spent in her personal and hidden nook deep inside the Rayya not far from where they were now, head buried in her tablet whenever free time allowed it.

My, she was a dreamer then. Her imagination leaping from one ship to the next and meticulously cataloging their details. She remembered the thrill of comparing drive cores. Their armaments. The allure of its design. The qualities of the crew and their respective captain or the fleet it sat under.

On and on the variables went. The list of potential choices was nearly a thousand bullet points long with the listed rejects ten times larger. Pages and pages of matrices and notes and essays to contextualize her future choice.

Now they held no value. Her pilgrimage had distilled her choice down to a single ship. One that hadn't even belonged to the Migrant Fleet. Had John been alive, she wouldn't be here now. She'd have emailed her gift and never looked back. Would've scrubbed her name to Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. She would doubt the fleet would recognize it—Father himself would likely strip her of the Rayya entirely and 'Tali'Zorah vas Nedas nar Tasi' would be the title forevermore within the digital halls of the Flotilla's census database.

And she wouldn't have cared.

However, the Normandy no longer existed. So the what-ifs would forever remain as they were. A fantasy. Instead, in a reality she didn't want to impart in, she picked a ship where she believed she could do the most good possible.

The Neema.

It was an obvious choice. A ship under Admiral Gerrel's direct supervision. And, as a friend of her father's, would allow her the biggest pull to do whatever she wanted without sitting too close to her father's shadow.

She wondered how the captain of the Neema felt about their position. Wondered if his job was more or less a formality given how regularly they were plucked around doing what the Heavy Fleet routinely did under Gerrel's short leash of custody.

"The Neema." She answered finally.

"Really?" Mima looked surprised but instantly pulled back, realizing that maybe she shouldn't be surprised. "Ah, actually, that makes sense."

They took the closest of eight lifts down to the fourth of sixteen living decks; the one they both lived on.

"How long do you plan on staying?" Mima asked, her shadow stark over the amber light above them.

"Truthfully, Mima...?" Tali panned slowly in an exhausted sigh, a line of light streaking by her with every floor they lowered past, "I think I'm just gonna spend the rest of the day here and just go to sleep. And worry about things tomorrow."

"Hey, you don't need to convince me. I felt the same way coming back from pilgrimage."

"Thanks."

They arrived at their respective living deck to the lively commotion, the lift's doors shuttering open.

"Ah, damn thing's gonna need some more lube soon." Mima muttered.

Tali took her first step and felt her shelved habits fall back in place. One foot in front of the other, it almost felt like she could walk these halls without the help of her eyes. They took their first left. "What did you bring back?"

"Data. Thirteen terabytes straight out of an uncompromised geth computer."

Mima, in a flabbergasted wave, put her hand on a forehead. "That sounds like the Tali I'd know."

"Thanks."

"I can't imagine what it must feel like to uphold a reputation as high as a Zorah. Everyone expects an admiral's child to bring nothing less but Rannoch itself."

"Heh." Tali did her best to give her a snort.

Another left. Then a right. Then another left. Then another right. One hallway the same as the last. A neatly dilapidated arrangement of stacked shacks and homes, the spaces in the middle littered with shelves and tables and chairs. All of them full of people carrying on with their lives. Before long they stood at the precipice of her family's room. Nothing about it suggested it belonged to an admiral and his family. At the apex of leadership or not, they all came back to roost in the same way as everyone else.

Mima pulled the curtain aside for Tali and set the bag down next to the desk where its top was adorned with an organized stack of ancient books belonging to her father. Tali flicked on the light and it sizzled on.

"I've got to get back to work." Mima said a little disappointingly before bringing her hands together, "Would you like me to get you something to eat later?"

"Yes. Please. I'm down to my last op-aid."

"Sweet or savory?"

"Sweet." Tali murmured quietly. Mima gave the woman another hug.

"Okay."

"Thanks, Mima."

"Of course, my Nar'lel." She clicked her tongue and did her best to soothe her, "Aw you poor thing. I can tell you're so tired. Sleep well."

"I will."

Mima stepped out and waved her goodbye while dressing the room with privacy.

Alone. At last. Like a velcro patch, Tali peeled away the smile and threw it behind her. She took in the feeble space around her.

Just as she remembered. Nothing different. The same as it had always been since mom died. The same desk and books. The same thin and worn locker of what few possessions they owned and kept. A minute number of taped pictures her mother had adorned the walls with. One of them a drawing she'd made when she was four. She graced the space with a slow waltz in one place to absorb it all. A paltry year and six months. But it felt as if she'd abandoned this place for a decade.

Eventually, her stare fell to the floor, eyes truly drenched with exhaustion. She stood there for a number of moments before deciding, on a whim, to look at one last thing.

Getting on her knees to take a look at what was beneath the bed, she put a hand atop the sheet to support herself and peeked below the raised mattress. Underneath, a bin of her mother's belongings.

She slid it out from its space, its bottom rasping against the metal grates that made the floor. She removed the top and set it aside.

She rose a tired brow. Unlike everything else in this room, this was the first thing that was different. It looked as if it had been tousled or recently touched. This was not how she had remembered it last. Atop the knick-knacks and a single brown gown her mother had made in a sewing phase, was a photo that used to rest at the very bottom of the box. A simple paper picture of her mom, dad, and herself as a mere child that hadn't even reached double digits yet.

It was the only picture they had where all their faces could be seen. Though her father's features in the photo had been weathered by time and what looked like a droplet or spill.

Another sigh left her. She wished she could've added more to this box. But that feeling soon lilted and she realized that was only a shortlived wish. She drew to memory the picture book she'd made on the Normandy. Of that slowly growing collage of all their adventures and travels. She remembered showing it to John in her room, both of them drunk and happy. Tragically, she lost that album during the Normandy's crash.

She sat there, picture still in hand, still sitting on her knees, and felt her lips twist faintly under the tumult of feelings she wished wholeheartedly would just go away, if only for a moment.

She quickly drew up a sharp breath and let the picture float back to the top of the box before sliding it all back underneath and raising herself up enough to sit on the bed.

Her hands clutched the metal frame beneath her and she clenched her fists tightly enough to make it hurt, to steer herself away from having another titanic episode.

She held her breath. Long enough that she felt her vision swim. Then she let it go in a gasp to let her body fall back to normalcy. With one last stare toward the curtain, she decided that she finally try and let sleep claim her.

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The Neema, even if it housed hundreds of regular lives within its hold, was still a warship. Of turian origin, she was originally, at her inception, framed as a tenth generation Alargus class destroyer, its size dancing on the cusp of being a cruiser. She retained all her original armaments with upgraded point defense weapons from none other than one of humanity's leading corporate monopolies: GD's XVI generation, close-in weapon system procured from some well-known combat solutions broker residing in Bekenstein's commerce sector.

She was happy to see them there. That, for as much of an aging warship Gerrel was, that he was still looking out for maintaining the might of 'Heavy Fleet heat'.

She saw what those things could do. She recognized those same guns during the battle of the Citadel on every Alliance vessel bigger than a frigate.

The ship taxiing her to the Neema lacked windows, so she was reduced to having to enjoy the view through a screen.

For as much of war pig the Neema was, she was still a sanctuary for innovation and study. Or, at least, held that potential for innovation and study. A dedicated science and engineering lab lay nestled somewhere within. Gerrel had disclosed however that its space had been committed to endeavors far removed from its original charter. Only a handful of people used it now, to Tali's benefit. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to share much. When she pushed for details, Gerrel only shrugged and told her she was going to have to find out for herself.

His tone had her under the impression that whatever was happening within its walls wasn't important enough to bother mentioning.

Like a magnifying glass, the view of the Neema grew and stretched until only armor plating could be seen. The cradle captured the taxi and those few aboard were already standing to disembark.

A quiet woosh, and the line of people, including her, filed in and were aboard the Neema.

Nothing about it was any different than the interior of the Rayya. Aside from the way the walls were designed, it was all the same. Hallways that became closets. Ceilings repurposed to racks. Shelves and boxes and crates. And the people. Crowded as it was everywhere else.

Tali glanced about, alone, and figured she go to the bridge and bother the captain to make it known what her intentions were. Then she realized she hadn't a clue where to even go. She stopped as soon as she started and looked around and felt...

Incredibly lonely. A quiet and silent figure caught in the commotion. She was surrounded by swathes of people. It wouldn't have mattered if there a billion or none. It stilled her heart. She missed them all. She missed Garrus and Wrex. Marcus and Liara. Ash. Her eyes withered. She missed Kaidan. She missed John most of all.

"You need help?"

Tali drew her eyes up to see a woman that'd been leaned up against a bulkhead. She clearly looked like a soldier. She wore a gray uniform, its fabric a ripstop, her hood that doubled as a type of shemaugh.

"Uhm. Yes." She nodded, glancing around at the people working and walking. "The bridge. I need to see the captain."

"Alright." The woman shrugged and turned off her omni-tool, "I can take you there."

"Are you sure? You're not too busy, are you?"

"Nah."

"Oh."

She started walking and Tali followed. "Name's Kylie."

"Hello Kylie. I'm Tali."

"What're you here for?"

"To join the crew."

"Oh. Back from pilgrimage, huh?"

"Yes."

"You look kinda familiar. I've known other Tali's before, but you're not one of them."

"Zorah. Tali'Zorah.

"Ah. That's how I know you." Kylie said as they took the hallway down.

"Please tell me there are no other Tali's aboard." Tali asked.

"As far as I know, no." Kylie answered with a snort before giving her another once over as they kept walking, "Wow. The famous Tali'Zorah. I'm not as famous as a Zorah. Heck, I'm not famous at all. Just a lil' ol pleb."

Tali's hands began to fidget. She didn't know how to segway herself out of a good retort.

"Sorry. Am I talking too much? Not making a great first impression am I?" Kylie babbled.

"It's okay." Tali murmured.

"I hope you like it here. I like to think we're a pretty relaxed bunch. At least off duty. Gerrel and the captain do run the ship pretty tight though."

They took a bend and reached a ladder.

"Up we go."

"Ladders?" Tali asked.

"Lift's broke." She shrugged, "Broke before I was born. All three of them."

"Oh."

They began to climb.

"So what do you do?" She asked Kylie.

"Automatic rifleman." Kylie answered plainly, "Gerrel's Special Tasks Unit. Second detachment."

"What's that like?"

"Can be pretty touch and go, sometimes."

They reached the floor they needed to be on. When Tali stepped off the ladder to the safety of the corridor, Kylie rose her hand to point and leaned into it slightly. "Just down there. Straight ahead."

"Thanks, Kylie."

"Guess I'll see you around." Kylie nodded before returning to the ladder. She gave her a casual salute and began climbing back down.

She mustered the strength to cross the remaining distance to the bridge alone.

When she passed into its hold, the clutter of life outside was left behind. it was clean and functional and bore the efficiency of its turian design.

She felt herself as an intruder, crossing this space. The captain of the Neema, a woman in uniform much like Kylie's with subtle nuances, stood with her back facing the returning pilgrim, watching quietly the forward screen.

Tali was not expecting the captain to be a woman. She wasn't really sure why her preconceptions led her there either.

"Captain?" Tali said gently to get her attention.

The captain's head pivoted only slightly to see who'd called for her. The sight of the purple one standing behind her prompted a fuller engagement.

"Yes?" She said as both an invitation and inquiry.

"My name is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. I come from pilgrimage. I humbly ask that I be allowed to present my gift to you and your crew so that way I may join it."

Captain Vaela was actually a little beside herself but made no intention of showing it. She only knew of Rael's progeny on the periphery of Gerrel's relationship with Rael, but it had never crossed her mind that the young woman in front of her now would be seeking to become a part of the Neema.

Hell, she barely thought about any of that at all. Though, in quick retrospect, she supposed that her chances were pretty good given the circles she was in.

"Hello Tali'Zorah. I'm Captain Vaela'Raven vas Neema nar Hedonna. And what honor does your gift bestow?"

"Data. Functional databanks wrested and secured from the geth."

The declaration rippled through the bridge and drew the attention of many of its inhabitants.

"That is... quite the gift, Tali'Zorah. May I ask how much?"

"Thirteen terabytes."

In the two hundred eighty nine years since their eviction from the Far Rim, never had she heard of such a feat. Never, in the woes of their slowly dying kind, had matched the profoundity of what this pilgrim had just bestowed.

Captain Vaela was aware enough of Tali's adventures beyond the confines of the Migrant Fleet to know that Tali had fought to defend the heart of galactic governance. Had shown the galaxy at large the spirit of the quarian people. Represented to them all that, even in their exile, had retained their sense of duty to the galactic whole. That they still held onto their identity and their resilience as a race.

That alone would have been enough. Yet, Tali returned with more. Had returned with an immediate and tangible treasure. Its bestowal was not to a single ship or its captain, but to the legacy of their entire kind. This gift, or rather, this beacon, could potentiate and unlock paths that could alter their collective fate as a people.

Faced with such a thing, Captain Vaela wrestled immediately the feelings of unworthiness. She wanted to refuse outright because of how disrespectful it felt to accept and steward such a pivotal offering. It made her want to shrink away from the mantle this pilgrim had come bearing. This day, which began like any other, had become a watershed moment for quarian history.

If it was all true. But she had no doubt the daughter of Admiral Zorah wasn't going to do anything but overdeliver.

"Tali'Zorah," Her voice deeply reverent and full of humility, "I accept humbly, your gift."

Tali, with two hands, a gesture steeped in tradition, held the little drive aloft and rose it up for her captain to take.

Mirroring Tali, Vaela accepted with all the respect and care her gift demanded.

"Welcome, my child. Welcome, Tali'Zorah vas Neema."

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2-7-2184

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Rael'Zorah was a very regimented man. Organized. Alphabetized. Whatever word you wanted to describe proficiency, discipline, and rules, was a word you could ascribe to the admiral. He was the embodiment of all those things and more. Duty. Stalwartness. Resolute. Unwavering.

Anybody not family would have said he was the model of what every quarian alive should be. The pinnacle of one for the many.

It made for terrible attributes if you were a father for a daughter who wanted nothing but a dad who simply showed he loved her. Her father felt, at best, like a colleague. Their correspondence after mom dying had been nothing but status updates, professional notes, and the occasional meeting she'd have to attend in the years leading up to her pilgrimage.

Don't get Tali wrong; she was never all that much of the clingy type. She'd felt love from her mother; but obviously with her being gone, the family aura that people usually had from normal families wasn't there. Grandparents were out of the picture. Her closest family in the wake of her mother's passing had been Shala. The woman had done an admiral job (Pun intended) of taking on that mantle; but nothing could ever really replace your mom. And Mima by then was already months into her Pilgrimage.

She sighed and parsed through her sparse library of family memories. There weren't all that many.

And, nearly lost to Tali now, was her dad's face. Last time she'd seen it was over a decade ago. She tensed her shoulders and tried to will herself to recall the details. To pick out the shape of his eyes and brows. His cheekbones, nose, and lips. Tried to etch in some sort of feature. But her brain shot back a bunch of null answers. It was all in vain.

She stared on quietly at the man, her father, with his back facing her as he stared through the Rayya's one of only three observation ports.

"It's good to have you back, Tali."

"It's—" She had to stop herself from giving out an automatic reply and just say that it was 'good to be back'.

She didn't want to be back here.

"—It's been a long journey." She said instead. She straightened her posture. Made sure her back was straight. Shoulders locked and tight. Head leveled and tall. Hands down at her side. All of it to illustrate the professionalism that he no doubted expected from her.

Well. She knew he expected that of her. The amount of times she'd been berated for her quirky fidgeting was one too many.

"I believe a congratulations is in order, Tali. You must be proud."

His hands remained clasped behind him, but he turned away from the port window and finally faced her.

Was… was that a glimmer in his eye? She rose a mental brow. She was not expecting him to say that.

She was expecting something more like:

'Tali, merely 13 terabytes? Could you not have strived for 14?' She could hear him say, tone tinged with only the expectation of excellence.

Or maybe it'd be more like 'Tali, you've returned sooner than anticipated. With such scant findings, I expected a longer journey, one befitting the Zorah name.' He'd undoubtedly say, tone not cruel, but coated in the steely discipline of a man for whom every mission, every task, was a measure of one's worth.

Maybe instead it'd be 'Tali, why the delay in your return? Expediency is a virtue. I envisioned your success would bring you back to us far sooner,' He'd chide, a reflection of his unwavering commitment to duty.

"Proud?" She repeated in a question.

"Of course. Proud. How does that make you feel?"

She felt none of those things. She felt dead inside. That's what she felt.

"Overwhelmed." Came her answer. He took a seat next to her. A little closer than he'd ever done before.

This was weird. This was really weird. Was he… was he trying to be a dad? He nodded a little too, trying to think of a good response to her short and rather flat ones.

"Normal." He said at length, "The Zorah name is bereft of any pity. You delivered. I felt the same way when I returned from pilgrimage. The paranoia of underdelivering will wane with time. It did with me."

She still wasn't completely catching up to what was going on. Talking this personally of matters was… just odd.

The assessment he'd given from her answers missed the mark entirely as well. Such an interpretation might have held water with the Tali who had yet to embark on her pilgrimage. The Tali before him now, however, had evolved far beyond that naive girl. Yet, she held no grudge for his misunderstanding. After all, how could he possibly grasp the spiral of torment that shadowed her existence through the veneer of her (quite honestly), detached responses? The layers of trauma that she'd been buried under were not hers to lay upon anyone else's shoulders, least of all her father's. The reasons for keeping such distances were clear to her, and she didn't need to be justifying it to anyone but herself.

"I promise not to tell Zaal; but from where did you procure such extensive data? Surely an operation right on the homeworld itself, perhaps?"

She caught the joke. Because he actually let out a chuckle.

Tali eyes narrowed at the sound. Not because she didn't like it, but because the number of times she'd heard him do it since mom died was probably less than the number of fingers she had.

"Unfortunately, no," She said with a quaint smile, "Geth incursion in Alliance space."

"I've got time for a story if it's a good one."

"It involves killing a lot of geth."

"Then I definitely have time to listen."

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A long time ago.

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3-8-2183

[ SSV NORMANDY SR1 ]

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"Normandy?" The voice was heavily obscured by the intercom's electrical noise, "Admiral Hackett here. Are you available, Commander? This is fairly urgent."

"Ready and able, sir. Tell me what you need." John stood up straight and gave his full attention to the PA.

"We're getting reports warning of a marked increase of geth activity in the Skyllian Verge."

Tali, who'd been looking over the maintenance roster of an IUR-Coupling Manifold at CIC, looked up to listen to the conversation between John and Hackett.

"Our surveillance drones have identified geth outposts on four or more different planets across the Armstrong Cluster. Too big for any small group to handle alone."

"And you want us to take them out?"

"Not quite. Not by yourself. It may be on the verges of Alliance space, but it's still Alliance space." Hackett sighed, "We don't have the resources or the time to evacuate our neighboring colonies. And because of that, we need to take this on the offensive. Frigates SSV-Changsha & Balikpapan, and Cruiser SSV-Mesa are already en-route to the system."

John nodded. "Where do I come into play, sir?"

"It's a lot of information to regurgitate over the radio, Commander. I'll just forward the brief."

"What's the ETA on the task force?"

"Eight hours." Hackett replied, "They'll be the first to contact you when they arrive out of slip-space."

"Any idea what they could be after?" Tali interrupted out loud.

John gave Tali a puzzled frown. There was an intermittent pause before Hackett answered her.

"Sources indicate the geth are gathering intel on the Alliance's local disposition and armament capabilities... but it's hard to say."

Tali tapped her chin and stepped up next to John. "Do we have an estimate on their numbers?"

"I can't give you an accurate answer. As I've said, any relevant information will be provided in the brief."

"If it's big enough... they could be planning another invasion." Shepard mentioned before frowning at the thought of Eden Prime.

"Let's hope not." Hackett stated flatly.

"Anything else Admiral?"

"Nothing else, Commander. Hackett out."

The Normandy's ambient hum returned.

"Sorry..." Tali mumbled while her hands starting wringing anxiously, "I shouldn't have cut you off like that."

John shrugged and thought little of it. "No need to be sorry, Tali. It's fine. That's called taking the initiative. It's a good thing."

She still looked unconvinced. "Oh."

He faced her and smiled. "It's a leadership quality. An important one. Don't be sorry for thinking for yourself."

"Okay," Tali didn't know what to make of that answer. It wasn't one she was used to. She was used to her father. And her father was the diametrical opposite of the commander. "I, uhm. Thank you. I'm gonna go."

He faced the CIC's galactic projection before dipping his head to give her a nod. "Anytime. See you later."

She stepped off the plate, waved him good-bye, and took the elevator down to her room.

Now, strangely, if it hadn't already been mentioned, the Normandy's clean room was "given" to her. It was modest in size (Mansion like for her), but big enough for a bed, desk, and restroom. And it served a variety of purposes. Namely for the benefit of a patient needing to be separated from the world. But Tali was fortunate enough to have been given the privilege of living in it.

Now, if it ever came down to it, the Normandy could still reclaim the room for medical or containment purposes. She'd have to make due in the meantime like she always had. To live inside her skin prison until she was cleared to take it back.

Sprayed down by a fine jet of antiseptic mist, she entered before taking off her visor and setting it carefully down on the desk with the care that it deserved.

In the silent hum of the Normandy, she stared at the mauve glass and the warped reflection of the world it tried to display. She pondered this habit she'd been making. The ease with which she was adapting to time out of the suit and the implications it brought in the context of her life. It was too comfortable. Having to leave this behind was going to suck.

Her PA clicked on and she stared up at the ceiling.

"Hey." It was John, "I know you were just up here, but I just skimmed over some of the briefing. Looks like we'll be groundside. Going to need you as our geth advisor. You up for it?"

Boots on the ground blowing up geth and teaching soldiers how to do it? That wasn't even a choice.

"I'm your girl."

"Excellent," Shepard said, "I've also got on schedule a combat sim later today. Down in cargo. I'd like for you to join me. Run some exercises. Get some more tips and tricks for engaging geth."

Tali smiled. "Sure thing. When do you need me? Kaidan said he wanted me to help him earlier with something real quick on crew at lunch."

"1330 hours. Will that be enough time for you?"

"Yes." She said with a grin, "I'll be there."

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1334 hours.

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"Sorry. I'm late."

"Four minutes to be exact." He said while dawning himself in gear. He didn't even grace her with a glance.

Her head dipped lower and lower until her eyes were staring at the ground. "S... sorry."

He stopped immediately and gave her a disarming grin and squinty eyes. "Uh, Tali. I'm just kidding."

He nudged her shoulder to get her to stand next to him.

"Oh."

"Okay. First order of business before we start. I'm going to need your measurements."

"My… measurements?"

"Of you, sans the suit. I'm going to need them to be perfect. Every curve. We're going to get you some real gear. New enviro-suit—"

New enviro-suit.

Oh my.

That sent a shiver down her back and some vivid, unbidden images projected through her head. She was being asked to undress. Asked by her crush.

It wasn't even remotely sexual for him to ask for that given the context, but it still showered her with embarrassment. Why she grasped for smoke like that was beyond her.

She realized he was still talking. "—Therum was… pretty inhospitable. I don't want anything happening to you when we're ground side."

"Oh…! Well— I can't get exact measurements right now. Since, you know; I'm, erm, wearing a suit still—unless if, uh. I go to my room and—"

"Uh, yeah," He interjected her rambling, "That's kind of implied. Don't think it's healthy to be doing that out here, Tals."

That little nickname made her heart flutter.

"Here." He handed her a roll of measuring tape. She let out a soft and rosy smile from the nickname when she grasped the long string.

"Universal scale's on the back. I'm not joking about measuring everything. Head to toe. Might even need a protractor for those backward calves of yours."

He handed her a tablet to show the list in question. "Kassa Fab's got a list here. Everything they'll need from you to make the suit we're gonna buy."

She read through it. Head, neck, shoulders, arms, bust, lengths, widths, circumferences, height. So on and so forth.

"Bust? That's…" Tali frowned, because her translator definitely wasn't giving her the appropriate context, "That's shooting back as broke open? Shatter? Popping? What's that?"

John took the data pad to give it another glance. "Bust." He repeated, nonplussed. "The measurement around your boobs." He sniffed once. "Those are boobs, right?"

She felt her face glow red hot and she stared at her chest awkwardly as if she'd just noticed the things for the first time in her life. She looked back up to him. "Ye—Yes—we are-er, kind of… or—almost identi—quarians are actually mamma—"

He stuck a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed, but that lighthearted look on his face didn't let up. "You poor thing. How do you manage being so anxious all the time?"

"I don't know... it's some stupid curse I have… I just… I just have to explain because people don't really know my expressions… so I—" She mustered the strength to stop the flailing words.

"Ever try doing a breathing exercise maybe?" He gave her his character grin, "Maybe a drink? To relax?"

"Uh, no. To both." She said flatly.

"Yeah, the breathing exercises are boring. You could join me for some drinks next time though when we're on the Citadel."

Was I just... invited to go out with him?

Tali knew they were friends.

Acquaintances at the least. (Which Tali was pretty sure she could cross off now since they'd gotten to know each other pretty well over the past month.)

Despite all this, she was never one to see herself as a great option to hang out with outside the workplace. Especially given the objectively better choices available to him, like Kaidan or Ash. Hanging out with some girl who had to eat everything through a damn straw was clearly less appealing if she was trying to be honest.

Now she wanted to placate herself. She was completely flattered. But it also felt a lot like grasping at a mirage that was only meant to be admired from afar. Not because her feelings weren't genuine. She harbored a deep fondness for the man. And it wasn't a fondness to chase after some quick fling to uproot a plain lifestyle or to 'taste the waters'. She'd heard the stories like everyone else of the flings people got caught up in during pilgrimage. That's not what she wanted. She was just afraid of attachment and the consequences that would potentiate. Afraid of trying to get involved in something that she shouldn't even be thinking about, much less chasing. She saw and understood fully the destructive power of having a broken heart.

And you know what? It never occurred to her in all her life that she could fall for a man not quarian. Her imagination had always envisioned her being with another of her own kind.

Was it smart to chase after a man like John though? To get attached to someone not quarian and see them fall for someone else due to your obvious shortcomings? You wouldn't always be able to give them what either of you wanted. All these things could happen with anyone you partnered up with, sure. But her love math told her that these issues would be magnified if they weren't quarian.

Tali made a face and scrunched her nose. She was thinking about all these super intense hypotheticals when all John had asked was a simple "wanna get a drink sometime?"

Keelah. Dial it down. Damn. Thinking 30 steps ahead. Thinking you even had a chance in the first place. These catastrophizing machinations were just ridiculous.

Before she could think any more on the matter, John's voice brought her back to reality. "I'll find you when we're there again. But we should get started on this simulation, okay?"

"R—right." She nodded before placing her duffel next to his.

Oh, this crush she had. Why'd it have to happen? And why so soon? The timing of it couldn't have been any more inconvenient. And all it was good for was stirring up emotions she couldn't have ever prepared for. All of it was beginning to probe her brain with its insistent and unyielding melody.

This had to be more than just some fleeting fancy she had for him. It felt like a distraction from priorities. Every interaction they had and shared glance only seemed to magnify its intensity.

Ugh.

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Two hours passed before they finished their exercise. John was immensely impressed with her abilities.

He'd been impressed since their first mission. She was incredibly capable and witty. Their skirmish on Therum was an outstanding example of Tali's skillset and ability.

"So..." She managed to say through a winded breath, "What do you think?"

"I think you're incredible at holding your own. Lord grant mercy to whoever is on the receiving end of your omni-tool. Jesus Christ."

Praise. Wow that felt good.

"Now tell me this isn't a great way to learn?" John said as he removed his helmet.

"It is. When can we do it again?"

"Tomorrow. Same time. What do you say?"

"Hell yes."

He set his rifle down on their table and removed the training block from its receiver.

"What's the time, Tali?"

"1540 hours." She answered, stepping up next to him and removing the training block from her own gun.

"Means we're still two hours out until the task force arrives."

"Then what?"

"Meetings. Lots of boring meetings." He drawled.

She turned around and leaned back against the table while her hands grasped its edge. "Like?"

"Creating an operation order. Handling logistics. Making up a ROE. Call-signs and tasking. Two days of planning easily."

He zipped up his bag and took another swig of water. "Briefing's after diner. Get yourself tidied up and I'll see you there. Heard it's your favorite. Food tubes."

She smiled up at him even if he couldn't see it. "Ah. Food tubes. Nice."

It was about the only thing that she'd had a growing insecurity of, eating the way she did. She rarely, if ever, participated in meal time, electing to just eat alone on a different floor entirely and out of view of anyone.

He gave her a chuckle and brought her in for a friendly hug. "Keep it up, Tali." He said. The hug ended sooner than she had wanted.

"And I don't know if I ever told you this, but I am so glad you're aboard and with us. Couldn't imagine what we'd do without you."

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

With a nod, he reached for his duffel and made his way to the elevator.

She put her things together and glanced, one last time, at John who entered the lift.

Wow. Tali let out a deep breath and tried sorting through her fuzzy thoughts. It wasn't often she'd come across people like John. He was just as friendly and as hospitable as many of the others here on the Normandy.

But something was... just so different. This is why this infatuation she had was so intense. He just felt so compassionate and thoughtful. And whether or not he did that to everyone around him didn't much matter. She felt like a person. Like an equal around him. And, somewhere deep down inside, she knew this budding feeling in her chest was more than just admiration.

He saved her life. Let her join the Normandy. Treated her with decency and respect. And because of that, she was attracted to him. A lot.

She never thought much about anyone giving her a friendly hug or bump on the shoulder either. The people around here all did that to build relationships and to show they cared. She kinda liked that. But when it came from John, it truly felt different.

Her mind went elsewhere. To other places.

…No harm in it, right? Imagining things like that?

Not like there was anything to stop her, much less know. She swallowed and immediately took those thoughts and put them into the proverbial trash can. She was stretching the imagination again. It was wishful thinking. Mirage to be admired from afar, she reminded herself again.

She was a dog legged girl with a handicapped immune system. She didn't even share the same chemistry as him (Literally.) And he didn't even know what she looked like. People could say all they wanted about how it's supposed to be the heart that you fall for but come on. The face was important too.

And they've only known each other for a month. You're not supposed to fall for anyone that fast. Right? Could you even fall in love that fast? That shortly? She stared at the reflection in the mirror beside her. There was little to distinguish about her face. Aside from her dainty nose and glowing eyes, details were sparse. She shook her head and sighed.

Here she went again, 30 steps ahead and thinking about all these terrible things over something fairly trivial and noncomplex.

Keelah. She had to stop doing that. She really needed to stop. She zipped the duffel with a little more force than necessary and went to get cleaned up.

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When everyone took their seats, the projector behind John flickered on.

"Everyone enjoy dinner?"

A chorus of yeses answered him.

"Good. I agree. The meatloaf was good." He looked down at the tablet in his hands and began, "So, the first thing I should tell you is what we'll be expecting."

A slide popped up from behind him. "Intel says the geth have been spreading farther along their original FOB's. Spreading all across the whole damn nebula."

He read the systems and planets off the list. "They've spread along Tereshkova, Hong, Vamshi, and Gagarin systems on planets, Antibaar, Casbin, Maii, and Rayingri, respectively. Besides the gas giants they've taken over for charge depletion, we're estimating around a total of 8 to 9 planets under geth occupation." He turned around to face the hologram. "If you see here, they've positioned themselves so that their defense would be set as a phalanx of some sort."

He pointed to the various planets and patrols across the cluster. "We can't wait for the planets' orbit to offset their tactical advantage. They'll have taken the entire Skyllian by then." He paced around the hologram as it switched to its next image.

"We're expecting a sizeable force strong enough to oppose and suppress the entire fifth fleet ladies and gentlemen. This is no easy matter."

"Great." Ash muttered. The others sitting nodded their heads in agreement.

Garrus rose his hand to ask a question.

"Yes, Garrus?"

"You're probably going to get around to this part, but if they're across nine planets... how exactly are we going to get around to getting them all?"

John nodded his head. "Great question. We're getting the second and first fleets to aid our repelling efforts. The Alliance is planning on pushing a single front all at once. The Normandy will only be partaking in one skirmish. And that's on Rayingri."

Seemingly satisfied with John's answer, he continued from where he left off.

"We also know that the Skyllian verge borders batarian space." The slide changed as Shepard spoke, "Not an important detail... but the brass are afraid the Hegemony might mistake the geth for the Alliance or stage them as reason enough to declare a war. Obviously, we don't want that."

The group all nodded.

"Oh. Another detail I missed was that the Normandy's been temporarily assigned to the 63rd Scout Flotilla. Her original outfit. So that's nice."

"Who'll be joining us on the ground?" Kaidan asked.

John flipped through his tablet. "The 13th MEU and 132nd Army BCT."

"Really? That many battalions on Rayingri?"

"No. They'll be attending across all nine planets. We'll only have about two companies of men."

"And what about our marine detachment?" Ash picked up, "Will they be on the ground with us?"

"Yup," John said, "Kaidan will be the one leading them."

"Okay." Ashley said, satisfied.

"That's about it so far. The OPORDs still being planned out, so I can't go over anything about that yet. But I'm expecting something from the uppers tomorrow morning."

Ashley thumbed behind her. "So, we good to go?"

"Yup. Everyone's dismissed. Except for Garrus and Tali. I need to speak with you two."

The crew slowly rose from their seats and silently filed out of the room to tend to their duties.

When everyone finally left, and after the doors closed behind them, Garrus spoke.

"So, Tali told me that we're part of your ground team."

"That's right."

"What about Liara and Wrex?" Tali asked.

"Not sure yet. I'll determine that as things develop." He took a seat next to them both and sighed.

"Tali, it's a far fetch to ask. But do you have any idea why the geth are out there?"

Tali shrugged and shook her head. "Other than what Admiral Hackett mentioned in the brief, no. I have no idea."

John felt the stubble on his chin and nodded. "That's fine. Was just wondering. Then the default assumption stands. A precursor to some large-scale preemptive strike. Like the one on Eden Prime."

"It's a safe assumption." Was all that Tali could offer.

"Maybe we'll find a lead on Saren." Garrus mentioned.

"That's my hope." John sighed, "Here's to hoping it all goes as planned."

"Anything else, Commander?" Garrus wondered.

John shook his head. "No."

Garrus got up and headed for door. "Then I'll be down in cargo if you need me."

When he left, John turned to Tali. "If you wouldn't mind Tali, I'd like for you to get those measurements done now. We're going to rush it's delivery. Kassa Fab said we could have that made inside two days."

"That's… really fast."

"It is. They ain't the best for no reason."

"I'll go to my room." She said before standing up with John, "So, odd question, but why an entirely new suit?"

"Modularity. Supposed to work with an external combat chest rig. Comes with quick hook armor plating. To protect the goods. You'll have to change into it when we go ground side."

"I see." Tali said, understanding, "This is— thank you."

Shepard's gaze met hers and his stare was akin to a child mesmerized by the calming dance of fireflies in the night. He stared a little longer than what was considered normal and her cheeks flushed red.

"Go on ahead," He said, coaxing himself out of his stupor as he walked her to the door, "I'll be waiting for the numbers."

She blinked rapidly before replying. "Uhm. Bye." She nodded before stepping through the door. He kept his lingering gaze on her until she disappeared from sight.

He smirked.

Damn. She was pretty.

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"Companies! ATTENTION!"

The deck vibrated with the unified thunder of boots slamming in discipline.

"Forty minutes to touchdown, warriors," Colonel Watson barked, his voice cutting through the air as he paced with purposeful strides. "The bad news. The 13th MEU will be joining the fray alongside us."

A murmur of discontent rumbled through the ranks, but Watson's sharp gaze quickly quelled it.

"You'll get your chance to outshine the jarheads by taking this planet by storm! This time, the army spearheads the charge under dire straits!" Watson halted, his stare piercing. "And let's be clear—the marines are playing catch-up to our lead! If you're lucky; you'll have killed every sumbitch with nothing left to even mop!"

A wave of cheers erupted, echoing his fighting spirit. Much better.

"Your Makos stand ready, primed for rapid assault. They'll hit the dirt first, carving a path straight through enemy lines. You will eradicate any synthetic fool daring enough to stand against my beloved Army. Are we clear?"

A resounding HOOAH filled the air, uniting them.

"Companies, dismissed! To your dropships, double-time!" Watson commanded, his voice booming across the bay.

Companies to platoons, platoons to squads, the lines of men snaked toward the VTOLs destined for the planet's surface. Anyone assigned to the armor unit gathered near the long stretch of Makos and clambered into its cramped embrace. Each IFV would carry four men into the heart of battle.

A man by the name of Private Juan Vazquez sat down and clumsily tried strapping himself into the seat's harness.

"You ever wonder why the brass thinks I need to attach eighty pounds of fucking gear and then also expect me to somehow fit in this shit?"

No one listened to him because they were all used to his complaining.

Private Eric Arzwall sat across from him and pushed Vazquez's feet aside so he could make room for himself. He was busily scratching his neck and stretching his face.

"You alright?"

"That energy drink had pre-workout in it. I'm so itchy. My asshole is so itchy."

"Just stretch the cheeks around. It'll move around your balloon knot. Might help." Was all the Hispanic man managed to offer.

Desperate for relief, Arzwall did just that and began grinding his ass into the chair.

"Arzwall doesn't need tips." Specialist Jared Vowell said flatly, squeezing into his seat.

"Y'all hear that Commander Shepard's going to be part of the forward RD? We might see him."

Corporal Nollen Tillman was the last to sit inside the Mako. "Who that?"

"The… first human Spectre?"

"Oh. That guy."

"Dude my asshole itches."

"His ship's escorting the deployment. We're gonna see aliens too."

"Oh shit. No way."

"So long as they're not turian."

"Yeah you just might see a turian."

"Holy fuck dude, my asshole."

"It's not the pre-workout, Eric," Vowell said with a tight and annoyed grimace to Arzwall, "You probably got gonorrhea."

"Everything's an ass joke to you isn't it? You're so fucking gay."

"I'm not the one bitching about their butt. You got the clap, faggot."

Before Arzwall could send in his rebuttal, the Mako's driver told them to mind the bump. "Boarding the RADREV. Stand by."

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Sixty-four ships flew in a loose phalanx formation, the leading ship, the Normandy.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau of the SSV Normandy with a non-stop service to your special destination: Rayingri. A beautiful vacation spot for any budding couple or adventurer looking for their once-in-a-lifetime chance to catch geth outside their natural habitat. We are first in line and are expecting to jump at a comfortable 40,000 feet. Atmospheric pressures are a pleasant 0.8 with a pleasing resting temperature of 46 degrees Celsius. Please keep your seatbelts fastened and table trays in the upright position during descent. Turbulence from passing ordnance has been forecasted, so expect a bit of a bumpy ride on your way down. Thank you for riding Alliance Airfare. We sign you up, we ship you out."

Vowell leaned into Vazquez. "Yo. What planet we landing on again?"

Vazquez gave Vowell an exaggerated shrug. "Bro, I don't know. I'm just here to shoot shit."

"It's Rayingri. He just said it on the radio. Jesus Christ, why am I in this squad. Why do I have you as a battle-buddy."

"Get prepped, we're falling in thirty seconds, you lot." The driver turned around to get a look at all of them, "Don't lose your lunch on her pearly floor, yeah?"

The four in the back nodded.

The RADREV began to hum with tension, the crew's collective gaze fixed toward the windshield. A crackle of static momentarily filled the cabin, and the RADREV pilot's voice bled over the intercom. "All call signs. Declaration to final. Drop in twenty. Stand by."

As the bay doors yawned open, the Mako crew watched the slowly passing terrain unfurl beneath them. It was a beautiful, and equally deadly, canopy of crimson dunes that stretched to the horizon.

"We're fire contact. Adjust vectors. Minimize signature. Where's escort?"

"This is Escort-1 actual: Fencing in. Master arms checked hot. Targets locked. Hard-kill counter in effect and commenced, over."

The crew from within the Mako could see noodles of tracer fire racing up to meet them.

"Overwatch, this is Yellow-4, geth have guided munitions; received fire is effective, confirm receipt, over."

The RADREV began to rumble from the shockwave of flak of exploding ordnance. One of its engines began to plume black smoke after having eaten whatever the geth were so keen on sending them. "Engine 2 down! Shunting! Drop! Drop! Drop!"

The Mako's VI squawked and the RADREV's compartment bathed them from red to green. "Release. Release. Release."

The clasps let their package go and the Mako began its descent to Rayingri.

The formation of RADREV dropships took to the west and dispersed a rainfall of countermeasures that escorted the thirty-one Mako's in their freefall.

Tracer fire still tracked their descent and the tanks held steady from the dependable protection of their kinetic barriers.

Coms was beginning to turn into a mess of status reports, but the six men inside the Mako remained silent amidst the violent turbulence and groaning metal. Flecks of flak splashed across the windshield. Auric explosions rattled the cabin. But thirty one hulks continued their fall.

"Flare. Flare. Flare." The VI announced.

Flaring as instructed, the armored division slowed their descent into something a little more survivable for humans and landed.

As fast as it had come, the repelling effort from the geth ended and the sky cleared. The tanks dispersed into a loose formation and scanned their sightlines only to come up empty handed.

Tillman finally had the bravery to open his eyes. "Holy shit. We made it."

"All call-signs, all call signs, report status."

A grid of greens began to overtake the status reporter.

"13th needs their route safe and ready, folks. Route markers sent. Confirm green lines. Disbound. Execute tasking. Out."

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"We landed." Tali said pensively, eyes in a concentrated stare as if she'd been visualizing it all again, "And… there was nothing to greet us. No ambush. No front-line to engage. They'd all retreated in the understanding that they wouldn't survive a conventional engagement. At least, that's what we surmised. They massed every unit. Consolidated to operations for a final stand."

"Fascinating." Rael murmured, fully enriched in Tali's recounting of the events, "Please, go on."

"They didn't last long. We outnumbered them almost ten to one. Casualties from the Alliance were negligible, if any. It was an easy slaughter. At my recommendation due to our numbers advantage, we dismounted from the Mako's and continued with small-arms without CAS to keep collateral damage to a minimum."

"CAS?"

"NAF. Sorry. Used to the human acronym."

She tapped her chin idly, thinking even harder. "As a matter of fact, one of the first shipments of scrap I sent back to you was from Rayingri. I wish I could've told you about where I'd gotten it when I sent it, but it was all deemed classified. I abided by that decision."

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Tali paused, drawing in a deep breath and sucked down what was left of her canteen before reloading her shotgun. The skirmish, though brief, had decisively tipped in their favor— a proper display of might over the geth's singular line of defense. Scores of enemy units were dismantled amidst the wreckage of their hastily erected barricade.

John rolled to his back from his prone position and grabbed a hold of Tali's shoulder to get her attention. "Tali! Garrus! Get ready!"

"For what?" In the din of battle, she strained her ears to make sure she could hear him.

"Just stand by!" Shepard commanded, turning back to focus on their company commander.

"Captain!"

"Sir!"

"Orders to follow: I want second platoon to maintain overwatch and issue suppressive fire. First platoon to advance and get in range with grenades. Second platoon issues three waves of kill-shot concussive rounds. Geth advisor to deliver cyber onslaught to dispense the rest. Are we crystal?"

"Full copy. Advance with overwatch. Grenade bombardment. Three round concussive send. Cyber on cue!"

"Now, captain!"

"Second platoon! Suppressive fire!"

As ordered, dozens of men mag dump rounds down range.

"First platoon! Advance! Forty meters! Prep grenades!"

To their feet, first platoon began their ascent up the hill, guns down on slings while they reached for their issued explosives.

"Send it!"

Reaching their designated marker, first platoon lobbed their standard issue TA-50 grenades in a graceful arc toward the geth. Tali, barely able to suppress a conquering smirk, lobbed her own grenade over the crest.

A pitter patter of violent explosions rattled the sand. Concussive rounds raced above them soon after from second platoon and dismantled any geth unit that dared remain.

Silence descended, the aftermath revealing the extent of their dominance. Soldiers hastily reloaded, eyes on their captain for the next command.

With the enemy's defenses obliterated, Shepard saw the moment to seize victory. "Advance! Take the hill!" he roared, rallying the troops.

The men howled, and they pushed further up, screamed their wonton screams to get revenge on the monsters of Eden Prime.

John turned to Tali with a firm stare. "Tali, this is your moment. Time to shine."

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"And that was it. Geth base intact. Save for the marring of a few grenades." Tali whispered.

"Glorious." Rael felt triumphant, even if it was only vicariously. "The humans sound incredibly capable."

"They are. Working with them was an incredible privilege."

John flashed through her mind again for the umpteenth time that day. "When we took stock of what was left over, we discovered a geth computer that was still networked and online."

"Unbelievable."

She shrugged indifferently. It was pretty believable when that happenstance competed against everything else she and Normandy had dealt with. Comparing everything else that'd happened, a geth computer that forgot to wipe itself was pretty tame on the list of unusuality. "It… hadn't been wiped. I never was able to figure out why."

"How strange."

"Strange, yes." She agreed with that, "Stranger was what we saw."

"What did you see?"

"A movie. Or… a recording of some kind, I think. It was hard to make out but it was definitely pre-war. Like it was being studied maybe."

"Studied? I don't understand."

"I don't either. I believe the geth were studying us. Are studying us. And not just through the optics of war."

"How so?"

"Our art." She answered with a composed sigh, "Our culture."

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Vazquez and Arzwall stood over the cooked remains of a dead geth unit. Vazquez knelt down to get a better look of the fried shell and scoffed. "Fish in a barrel. How did we get tossed up so bad on Eden Prime. Crazy."

"There were more of them, Vazquez. Probably thousands."

"Fuck them." He said distantly, comedic hue gone from his voice. "I can't wait to kill more."

"We're clear, sir! No contacts!" Hillman called out.

Shepard eased himself off the trigger and relaxed. "Clear here too. We're good. We're clear. Safeties on."

The small squad that'd been trailing John, Tali, and John dispersed to start exploring what remained.

There were other soldiers mingling about the pre-fabricated building, exploring and idly mucking about since the fighting was over.

Tali was doing largely the same. Picking about through the random scrap, examining dead geth, or looking at dead computers. It was all fascinating. This was the first time she'd ever been surrounded by this much geth tech.

God she wished she had more pockets for all this crap laying about. She noticed a group of soldiers lining up for a picture with a dead geth at their feet.

"Commander!" one of the men called out as they all gathered together, "Do us the honors!"

Giving Tali a quick sideways glance and shrug, he went over to stand in the middle of the group and posed for the picture.

Garrus stood next to her and they both watched from the sidelines.

"Can we get the turian and purple lady over here?" One of them said with a grin.

"Come on, Tali. You too, Garrus." John waved with a hand.

"You sure?" Garrus asked, "Thought you'd all hate me?"

"Naw, we got a new grudge now. Geth's the new bad guy. Come on bone head."

Garrus actually laughed and made his way over. It also got a smile out of the quarian as she timidly stepped up to get into the picture.

"Right here guys. Next to me." John said. The soldiers nearest to him obliged and gave the two the space they'd need to fit in.

Shepard wrapped his arms around the shoulder of Garrus and Tali and smiled. She actually, for once, had the confidence to put a hand on her hip while reaching out to hold his back when the picture was taken.

The picture taking was over as soon as it had started. And after failing to decline several requests to sign people's gear and guns, he eventually found Tali by herself down a hallway and in some room. She was busying herself with the remnants of a dead unit missing its head.

"Hey."

"Hi." She said, looking up at him. "How many pistols and breast plates got your signature on it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh. A lot."

She gave him a soft laugh. "Wow. You're becoming a celebrity. How's it feel?"

"Laugh it up, Tals."

Oh it was that nickname again. Her heart fluttered the same it did the first time she heard it. God, she loved that.

"Maybe I can get an autograph too?" She said to keep the mirth alive.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Alright, alright. Very funny. Maybe I should knock you down a peg to keep you a little more humble."

"Try me." She said, giving him an unseen pair of pursed lips.

"Making fun of you is like picking low hanging fruit."

"Ouch. I don't get it, but it hurts all the same."

He bellowed a laugh and leaned back up against a pillar to settle himself down. "Find anything useful yet?" Deciding to change the subject.

"Lots. I'm going to have to pass up some amazing finds. It's just too dangerous to be messing with."

He frowned. "Really?"

"Yes." She said simply, "The stuff I send back has to be safe. Can't chance the safety of the fleet."

"Abundance of caution is probably the safe route, yes." John said, nodding. He took a good gander at the geth she'd been hovering over.

"First time I've ever gotten to see one up so close." He mentioned, leaning down next to her. "Pretty intimidating."

"Not without a head they aren't." She said with a snort. She stood up and started making her way toward something that caught her eye.

"Hm. Very true." He followed. "Speaking of being close to geth; you never did tell me how you managed to sneak up on one and take its hard drive back before we met."

"It's tricky. And it's mostly luck." She said.

"Luck? What's the chance of failure?"

"I—" She peered closer at the computer she was staring at and realized it was… on.

"…Tali?"

"It's on…"

"What is? That?"

"It's still connected to their lace. Keelah. That's…" her breath left her and she began to feel for her pockets.

"What are you searching for?"

"Blank OSD. I— it's somewhere he—"

His hand came into focus with an OSD pinched between his fingertips. "Here you go."

She took it and began to search for a port. If the geth were smart, they'd have procured these stations with ports used by the galactic community at large.

Conveniently, she was right. Six ports of different configurations of the galaxy's most commonly used peripherals lined the side of the computer. She jammed it right in before interfacing with the machine.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding my pilgrimage gift."

"Oh. Wow." He bristled, "That was fast, huh?"

She didn't say anything; focus beset upon the preparation for a total download of everything this thing could give her.

"Look at that. One month in and you got what you needed."

"You have no idea how much of a relief this is to me." She said, finally able to split her attention between him and this computer, "I can't believe it came so easy…"

"Easy huh? You had Probably half a trillion dollars riding here to help stop this."

"You know what I meant."

John said nothing. She faced him, seeing as how she didn't have anything else to do but wait for the transfer to continue doing its thing. Sensing where his thoughts were going, she spoke up to relieve him of any budding worry that might've been burdening him. "I hope you know that this doesn't change anything. I'm here for the long haul. Until Saren is brought to justice. Or dead. Preferably dead."

"Thank you, Tali."

"It's the least I can do at this point, Shepard."

They both stare wordlessly at the machine for a bit.

"So, Tali."

"Yes?"

"Question."

She looked at him, waiting.

"How in the world does an OSD fit into a geth computer?"

"Easy." She said, "Geth find source material from wherever they decide to attack. In order to use our hardware, they have to interface with it. Hence these ports. And if you can pull data from something, then you can write it on there too."

"Well, find your other OSD. Let's download it all twice. Being redundant is a good idea."

"That's a good idea, yes." She started rifling through her pockets again. But after a full-on minute of searching her person and backpack, she gave up in a frustrated sigh.

"I… don't think I have it on me. Keelah. What would I have done without you?"

"Missing the opportunity of a lifetime, apparently."

She frowned and let her eyes show her distaste for the remark, but it wasn't far from the truth.

"Look." John said as he pointed with his chin. The geth hub pinged and turned off. "…How much you get?"

She peered at the readout and smiled brightly. "13 terabytes. Wow."

"Is that supposed to be a lot? What're the margins you're looking for here?"

"I would've been happy with a single gig. But here I am with over 13,000 instead. Oh god. Wow. Keelah."

A sudden flash of a migraine-inducing light from the geth hub shimmered brightly before John and Tali.

"Holy hell, Tali! That's bright as hell! What did you do?!"

She didn't get to answer.

"Echoes of brilliance, a dance of embers in flame's embrace. Those amongst us, now shadows in endless grace." The blazing fire of light said in a deep and howling voice.

John and Tali took several steps backward with their hands up to protect their eyes.

For some reason, Tali's visor wasn't polarizing fast enough!

"Time stands to witness silent graves. Sacrifices made, yet no one to save."

"What the hell is going on?" A soldier shouted from down the hallway.

"Is this some kind of sick ass joke?" Another yelled.

Garrus reared the corner, caught wind of the bright light, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"What in spirits..." The turian's eyes were wide and his frown long.

Tali's visor finally darkened enough for her to make out the details of a naked quarian woman.

"Through ash and ice, threats faintly roar. Souls slip away to their eternal shore. In dawn's first light, quietly to soar, merging with the cosmos evermore."

Then the light disappeared and the three were left in stunned silence.

"What did we just see…" John's frown couldn't have gotten any deeper, "Tali. What was that?"

"I... I don't know..." She said in a petrified whisper, "I have no idea..."

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We saw this from that same computer. I think its projection was malfunctioning, because the screen turned into a giant flare. I could barely make out an unmasked woman. No suit. Reciting a poem. I don't remember what she said either. It was… very haunting from what little I could recall."

"Perhaps a clue?" He suggested.

"I don't follow."

Rael said nothing for a few moments and stood back up, thought plastered all over his face. He went back to the observation window with focus in his eyes. "Try to remember, Tali. Recite the steps leading to this."

"I—" Tali narrowed her stare and wondered why that was important but gave it a shot anyways. "John… handed me an OSD. I pulled data. Then that bright light. That's it."

Rael paused and turned around. "You used who's OSD?"

Oh no. Oh, god no. Oh fuck. "…The Commander's. He gave it to me."

"Why?"

"I…" She was too deep in. There was no lying out of this. "I didn't have it on me."

"He lent you… something that should've been readily available on your person. Am I hearing that correctly?"

It was absolutely a rhetorical question.

Stifling silence. Repressive quietness. "I… I don't know what to say."

She could see his gears churning. And they weren't churning in a way that was going to turn out in her favor.

"Tali, are you grasping the magnitude of what was nearly squandered? This could have been our most significant advancement since our exile from Rannoch, and you—through sheer negligence—nearly let it slip away."

She shut her eyes tightly together, teeth clenched even more so. Why did she tell the truth. Why did that even slip out? Whatever had passed off as being a regular father to her was completely gone. Back was the stalwart and dedicated admiral she had always known.

"Such oversight is not merely a personal failing; it's a failing of our people. We have fought and struggled and survived on the fringes for centuries; clinging to the dream of reclaiming our homeworld. Every piece of technology, Tali; Every shard of knowledge we gather brings us one step closer." He stood over her now, his gaze cast down against hers. "And yet, on the precipice of monumental discovery, you nearly let it fade into the ether because of... what?" He shook his head, looking up at the ceiling for the appropriate words, "A lapse in memory? Inattention?"

"I—"

"—I'm not done. This is not a matter of simple oversight; it's a question of competency. We cannot afford such carelessness, not when every decision, every action we take, must be for the whole of the fleet. We are adrift, daughter, a people without a planet, and it falls upon each of us, especially those of us with the privilege of your position, my position, to strive tirelessly towards our collective salvation."

There was a deafening silence that befell the two. She averted her stare. Eyes wet and throat a swollen lump. He distanced himself and went for the door seeing as how he had said everything he needed to. At its breadth, he faced her back, where she remained unmoving, and said his parting words. "Remember this, Tali. Remember the weight of the legacy you carry. The legacy we all carry. The hopes of our people that buoy you. Do not falter again, for the cost is too great, and the opportunity too precious to squander."

The walls and ceiling started to close in on her while her hands and feet went numb. When the door closed behind him, and after she caught up to everything he'd said to her, she took an unsteady and trembling breath.

Her head fell into her hands. She gnashed her teeth and let out only a single choked sob from her lips.

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C-58B Rapid Deployment Reconnaissance Vehicle (RADREV) - Designed by Jayden B.E. Air Systems in the early 2060's, The C-58B RADREV platform is a small, mobile deployment air and space craft used by the Alliance military for dedicated QRF operations. While many criticize the RADREV's limited role in deploying cargo and vehicles no larger than the M35, the platform has seen extensive service on over eighty-five worlds. Intentions to replace the vehicle have yet to be fully realized. Three programs have been launched to replace the RADREV before being summarily canceled. No other plans to develop a replacement have commenced since then.

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ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ-ᴄɪᴛᴀᴅᴇʟ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴsᴇ sᴜʙᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛᴛᴇᴇ (ɪᴄᴅs)

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ
The Interoperational-Citadel Defense Subcommittee (ICDS) is an organization within the Citadel Coalition, designed to enhance and ensure joint interoperability among the militaries of all Citadel races. Formed in the wake of rising threats to galactic peace and security, the ICDS serves as a strategic think tank and operational hub, focusing on the coordination of defense strategies, military exercises, and the development of unified protocols for emergency responses.

ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ
The primary mission of the ICDS is to promote interoperability and cooperation among the military forces of the Citadel races. This includes the sharing of intelligence, joint military training exercises, standardization of technology and equipment, and the development of common operational doctrines. The ICDS aims to create a unified and robust defense framework capable of countering any threat to the Citadel Coalition with efficiency and decisive action.

ꜰᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴs
Strategic Planning and Coordination: The ICDS is responsible for developing overarching defense strategies that incorporate the capabilities and strengths of all member races.

Joint Exercises and Training: To foster unity and improve interoperability, the ICDS organizes regular joint military exercises across various environments and scenarios.

Technology Standardization: The committee oversees the standardization of military technology and facilitates the sharing of advancements to ensure that all member forces are equipped with compatible and effective tools.

Crisis Response: The ICDS develops and implements unified protocols for rapid response to galactic crises, ensuring a coordinated effort from all Coalition members.

Intelligence Sharing: A secure network for the exchange of intelligence information among member races is maintained by the ICDS, enhancing situational awareness and strategic planning.