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NuclearBuddha wrote...
"Tali, child, what's wrong?" I look up from where I'm squatting next to the entrance to my cubicle. I can't go in. Seeing the bare walls, not a thing to show they're mine, it would break me. Because they're not.RiptideX1090 wrote...
Something inside snaps. A week's worth of anguish poors out, and suddenly I'm screaming at the top of my lungs.NuclearBuddha wrote...
They say I should be dead, which might be true. I'm still deciding how to feel about it. The wrist is going to be okay, they tell me, though it's probably going to hurt for a long while. Given my other aches, something physical might be a nice change.
I'm only in the clean room for another day. Someone else needs the bed, so it's back into the suit for me. Can't have the Admiral's daughter malingering. It fits uncomfortably, mostly held together with omnigel at this point. The badly-fit glove is just the final insult. I need a new suit.
I rest in the Neema's sickbay for a while figuring that someone will be around for my report, but there must not be a big hurry. Surprisingly, it's Prazza who comes to see me. He helps me up from the bed, grasping my over-large grey replacement glove with his own black-gloved hand.
"Tali," he says, not quite looking at me, "I just want to say I shouldn't have doubted your calculations. You saved us. I made sure that was in the report." What he's saying should infuriate me, but that's not what's got my attention.
The gloves. The jumble of the past weeks suddenly fits, an airtight seal coming together.
Guessing what I'm looking at, Prazza tucks the hand with the mismatched glove under his arm. A standard black glove, not grey like the rest of his suit.
"The glove, Prazza," I say quietly.
He unfolds his arms and tilts his head, daring me to go on.
"You didn't replace it. Proud, are you?"
"I'd expect more thanks for saving your life," his voice is petulant, a child caught hacking the nursery vid.
"So Noveria, too, right? Guess you knew we should have been in a hurry to leave. Why, Prazza?"
He stares back coolly, but I've been cowed by the best. Nobody short of my father is making me look away. In the end, Prazza's the weaker.
"Why, Prazza?"
"For the Flotilla!" he shouts, mustering the courage to look back at me, "I did it for the Flotilla! Why sell the eezo? That's all we do, trade scraps to people who hate us. We could have learned from it ourselves. Why don't you understand? We can be more! Greater than the other races! You're going to lead us someday, I know it! So lead us! I... I did this all for you! You! So you would..."
"Prazza, no. You're a monster if you think you can kill your way out of being a quarian."
His whole stance changes. Gone is the pleading, the need for affirmation. Expectations betrayed, he looms dangerously, head lowered like a charging krogan. Someone else entirely could be wearing his suit now, for all I know. I wonder for a moment if this is how the people he killed saw him.
"I thought you were your father's daughter," his voice scrapes, "what should you care about outsiders? It's true, then, isn't it? You almost went native on your pilgrimage, and for that human."
He couldn't have shut me up better by planting a fist in my gut. I... is it true? And what if it is?
"What do you know about him?!" My visor is nearly touching Prazza's, who refuses to back down. "Shepard was a hero! He did things no one else could have done!" I push Prazza away as hard as I can, sending fresh waves of pain rippling down my wrist and up my arm. He doesn't go very far, but the act visibly stuns him none the less. "If not for him, you'd be dead! We would all be dead!"
Once again only inches from my helmet, Prazza continues to stare me down, I can tell his face is contorted into a gnarled mess, rage evident in every aspect of his body language. "And you!" My voice is all fury, thunder that crashes against the silence of sterile walls. "You just left me?! You knew where I was and did nothing?! You saw what the turians did to me at the clinic, and didn't bother to take me home!?" Prazza's silence is numbing. I can feel my voice starting to crack, both from the strain of the past week, and as a cold feeling worms it's way into my gut.
"Do you know what I went through!? Do you know what I endured!?" Every ache in my body flares in agony all at once. Every bruise, every cut, every tender inch of flesh left sensitive by Dallix's drugs. My grey fist connects with Prazza's helmet, cracking it. Unlike mine, his remained sealed. It only makes me more angry that I I can't hurt him the same way I've been hurt, at the feeling of too weak and drained to inflict the horrors on him that I've lived through because of him.
The hit still does enough to send Prazza into a rage all his own.
"You've gone soft Tali! Your time with that bosh'tet human has warped your thinking!" His voice is louder than mine, intact and ringing in my ears. "I had to do something! You were just going to give it all away! Instead of using it for ourselves, you wanted to sell it so we could buy more scrap! And for what Tali!? A few new air filters, some new hull patches, when instead, you could have given it to the fleet! We could have used it for ourselves!" Prazza looks dangerous, murder staring at me in every contour of his suit. My hand twitches for my pistol, even though it's not there. It's a hollow feeling.
"I did this so you could step up and make the decision to lead our people to something more! So you could be like your father, to be the leader we all need you to be, that I need you to be! I did it because I lov-"
My fist connects with his helmet hard enough to send him staggering back into a wall. I catch his throat with my sore hand, and pummel his gut with the other, twenty years of begging to hear that phrase from someone, anyone, spills out into pure fury. I'm going to kill him.
"Don't you dare say that to me!"
I slam my fist into his side, doubling him over.
"You do not get to say that to me! Not after what you did to me! You abandoned me!"
My knee collides with his vulnerable faceplate, further cracking it.
"Moro is dead! Do you even care?! Did you say it to her?!"
My heel slams into his gut, sending him to the floor. He tries to crawl away like the coward he is. I'm not having it.
"Did you!?"
I kick him when he's down, making him arch his back in agony. If he's howling in pain, I don't hear it. I'm deaf to the world.
"Answer me!"
I get ready to kick him again, white hot fire licks my insides, turning my heart into a furnace.
I catch my reflection in the mirror. It doesn't look like me. There are no decorative cloths. My glove is the wrong color and size. I'm standing over another person, beating him within an inch of his life. I slowly look down at Prazza, who is wheezing, holding up an arm to shield himself.
I wonder if that is how I looked to Dallix.
I slowly back away, horror replacing my blinding rage.
I turn and run away.
"Auntie Raan." I can't believe how tired my voice sounds. "I... I didn't know you were aboard."
"Politics," she murmurs, "Han'Gerrel had some matters he didn't feel comfortable discussing via comm. I heard you were injured on the salvage operation."
Despite myself, a snort of laughter escapes. "You'll have to read my report."
"You father is here as well. I'm sure he'll want to see you. Though you may want to change your suit, first."
"This is the only one I have." My voice is angrier than it should be.
Shala finally helps me to my feet. "Then we'll get a new one made for you," she says, as if that will fix everything. Hell, maybe it will. No immune system? Wear a suit. No home? Wear a suit. No one to trust? Wear a suit.
I let her walk me to Han'Gerrel's office. The door is open, and voices drift out.
"We're not ready and you know it." A criticism. That's dad.
"When will we be ready? These ships; they're less ready for a fight every day!" That would be Han.
"I need more time," father pleads. I've never heard that tone of voice from him before. "My work is very close to producing results. My daughter's been sending back some excellent material. It's a shame she--"
Whatever he was going to say, he stops when he sees Shala and I through the doorway. He stands as we enter, nodding to Shala and giving me a brusque hug. The moment is too surreal.
"I almost didn't recognize you," he says quietly, "I'm glad you've recovered enough for duty."
"I read your report, kid," Han interrupts, "bad luck about all that salvage. Damn humans sweeping in on it." He sounds more admiring of the audacity than angry. That kind of haul was too big to be believed, I guess. We just don't get that lucky.
"I am certain my daughter did the best she could, under the circumstances," my father notes stiffly. As far as defenses go, I'm not sure how I should feel about it.
"That she did," Han acknowledges, giving up the field to daddy, "we'll go over it later, kid. Shala?"
My father and I leave the office together.
"Father, I'm sorry." I don't even know what I'm apologizing for.
He's silent for a moment. "Tali, what for?"
"I... We... There's... Father, I lost six members of my team on what should have been a routine salvage run. The shuttle we used is wrecked. I'm wanted on Ekuna and maybe the Citadel. I need a new suit. And I don't have anything for the Flotilla to show for it." I rack my brain. Did I leave anything out? Father, one of my team is a murderer and I don't know if I can control him. Father, I don't know who I am anymore and I'm scared to find out. Father, I don't know how much more of this I can take.
Father, I just averted a war that might have engulfed the galaxy. No, wait, that's not important.
He still hasn't looked at me. Look at me, damn you!
"Tali, don't ever say you're sorry. It serves no purpose. You were in charge. Show no weakness: the Flotilla, the entire galaxy is watching."
I feel myself go numb.
"H-how can I not be sorry?" My voice sounds higher than it should. At this point, I don't care. What is the worse dad will do? Yell at me? Hit me?
Love me less?
"I lost six good people, people who will never go home to their families!" I don't mean to shout. I'm so drained. Why didn't I die? Why did I have to live? Stil deserved to live more than I did. My team deserved better than this. Better than me.
Father doesn't look at me. He never looks at me. Eyes always on something else, something for the fleet. Please Dad, I've been through hell. I've been tortured, I've been beaten. Can't you at least look at me? Am I not worth even that? Apparently not, his gaze never alters. Always looking forward, to the future.
"Tali, you did what you had to do for the good of the fleet. Never apologize for that."
Why won't you look at me?
"Your team did what they had to."
Am I so worthless you can't even look at me like a person?
"They gave their lives for the fleet."
Am I so ugly you won't even take your mask off with me... just once? I want to know what you look like, Dad. Please?
"We have to give everything for the fleet, Tali."
I know that. Why do you keep telling me? What more can I give you? Just name it. Anything for you to look at me.
"Keep giving until you can't give anymore."
Look at me, Dad, you'll see what they did to me if you just look at me. You'll see how much I've given. Please, just take your mask off with me. I'll show you my scars, I'll show you how much they've taken from me. I'll show you how much I've given, how much I love you.
"And when you've given everything you have..."
They hate me. They hurt me. I've done everything I could. I've given everything I have. My body. My mind. My heart. For the fleet. For you, dad. What more can I do? What more will it take for you to love me?
"Give some more."
I feel my heart sink. Realization pounds into my brain and tears down my soul. Would it be enough if I died, Dad? Would you love me then? I don't know what else I can give you. What more is there? What more could I possibly do to make you happy? Is that what you're telling me? Life for the fleet isn't enough? I have to die for it too?
I want to weep. I want to collapse to the ground and scream to the heavens. I want to explode, to stop existing, to go blank and never wake up.
You'll love me when I'm gone, is that it? When I've done what you've been telling me my whole life? I want to rage against his calm form. The only way I'll have your love is when I'm not alive to experience it?
Father is still talking. I'm not listening, my mind ablaze with epiphany. I want to shout, I want to beat him to the ground, to make him feel what I've felt. Why don't you care, Dad?
He hands me a mission file. I go over it in my omni tool. Two missions. Freedom's Progress. A colony that just went dark. Quarian on pilgrimage. Rescue op. Unknown hostiles. Extremely risky. Nothing I can't handle.
The second mission makes me do a double take. Haestrom. Dholen System. Geth space. Home to the largest fleet of geth ships in the known universe. I stare at the information. Suicidal odds. Almost no chance of success. Extremely high risk. No backup available.
It was clear. He wanted me to give everything for the fleet, and more. I can feel myself go rigid. Fine. I could do that. I love you too, father.
"Good luck, Tali. Keelah Se'lai." We probably won't be seeing eachother ever again. That's all you can say?
"Keelah Se'lai, father." My voice is as dead as my heart is, my body about to join it.
I turn around, walk out of the briefing room, and mute my speakers, sobbing quietly at the cruelty the universe seemed so fond of beating me down with.
Modifié par RiptideX1090, 25 juin 2010 - 07:49 .
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