Hey everyone! This is the second part of a Quarian's Tale; if you haven't read the first one, I would recommend it before ploughing ahead with this story. However, it is certainly not necessary, it just might make things more cohesive. I'm excited to finally delve into Mass Effect 2, and I hope you enjoy!

Tali gazed at the Migrant Fleet as it grew larger and larger, her expression impassive. Not that her pilot would have been able to tell if it were otherwise, of course. The man glanced at her, but he had learned early on that she was not open to small talk after his first few attempts had been met with silence. She might have felt a little guilty if her heart could contain anything besides the hollow grief that had haunted it ever since…it happened.

She swallowed back another sob before it escaped her throat; she had cried enough over the last few weeks to fill a lifetime. She knew there would be much more in the future, but she needed to remain composed for now. She was about to meet her father, after all, and any emotion like that was sure to be seen as weakness. It would be better to avoid anything to do with her relationship with a human in general; she didn't see that conversation going over very well for either of them.

This train of thought inevitably brought her back to Shepard. Damn it. She couldn't help her soft shakes as she succumbed to her sorrow, her vision blurring. Times like this were one of the main reasons she hadn't spoken to almost anyone after the attack, keeping herself muted to the outside world so she could mourn in peace.

It had only taken twelve hours for the escape pods to be rescued by a nearby Alliance vessel. She didn't remember much from that ship. At one point, someone had not so kindly asked her to stop crying; he had been promptly rendered unconscious by Ashley. "Anyone else have a problem?" she had asked, glaring ferociously around the cargo hold. Tali turned off her verbal output anyway, wanting to be left alone.

Over a week had passed before the Alliance gave up the search for Shepard and declared him killed in action. They never found his body. Tali couldn't bring herself to attend the funeral, knowing that he wasn't there, that he was abandoned somewhere on a desolate planet. After everything he gave to keep the galaxy alive, they couldn't even do him the courtesy of giving him a decent burial. The injustice of it only made the whole situation worse.

One good thing occurred while they were waiting for news about Shepard; Liara woke up. Tali put aside her feelings for an hour to go visit her friend. The asari had clearly already been given the news about the Normandy, and the horrified look she gave Tali when she walked in almost made the quarian turn around and leave. As it was, most of the conversation was spent with Liara feverishly discussing possibilities that the Commander was alive. Finally, Tali couldn't bear it anymore.

"He's dead, Liara. Just…stop." Tali immediately muted herself, as she could feel herself choking up again.

Liara seemed to understand and changed the topic, talking about anything but Shepard, but Tali wasn't listening. A few minutes later, she walked out with a muttered farewell.

Anderson dropped by her room after the memorial service, saying there was some business she had to take care of concerning Shepard. At least the new Councilor looked as bad as she felt, and a surge of appreciation for Anderson swept over her. He seemed to be one of the few people who was struggling with this as much as she was. She invited him in, and a few signed forms later, Tali found herself the inheritor of a sizeable amount of credits. She took in this information numbly, unable to muster a shred of care about money. Anderson arranged for a small ship to transport her back to the Migrant Fleet at her convenience. He didn't mention Shepard once, just put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly before taking off, looking as if he hadn't slept in years.

A voice came over the intercom, jerking her out of her reflection, and she cleared her throat in an attempt to make herself sound normal. "This is the Rayya. We have your ship flagged as Alliance; state your business with the Fleet."

"It's Tali, or, I mean, this is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, requesting permission to dock."

"Please verify."

The words came out automatically, like a mantra. "After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."

"Permission granted. Welcome home, Tali'Zorah."

"We'll need a quarantine team to meet us. The ship is not clean."

"Understood." The pilot dutifully followed the signals to the docking bay, relaxing once they were successfully attached. He stood up and turned around smartly.

"Will you need an escort, ma'am?"

"No, that's alright. You'd have to be in an enclosed suit anyway, and there wouldn't be any reason for it. Thank you." She took a few deep breaths. Her face itched where the tears were drying, but she ignored it as best she could.

He inclined his head. "Of course. Before you go, I just wanted to say that it was an honor bringing you here." Tali was confused for a minute before she remembered she was supposed to be some big hero now.

"Don't be silly. I know I've been awful company." She stepped into the airlock.

"I've had worse." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "So long, Miss Zorah."

"Goodbye, Cortez." She really, really hoped that had been his name. The door closed off the rest of the ship, and the docking bay opened up to reveal three more quarians. They had placed a barrier behind them, keeping the foreign particles inside the airlock. They started the scrubbing procedure, no one saying anything, but she could see the curious glances they gave her. I suppose they've heard about the Citadel here, too. And apparently about me. Great. She pretended not to notice, glad that no one was asking her questions. Five minutes later, the team finished and took down the barrier, allowing her to step onto her birth ship.

"Tali!" She saw a familiar woman waiting around the first corner, her slow and measured tones warm with delight.

"Auntie Raan!" Tali ran forward and embraced her. "It's so good…" Her voice cracked. Stop it! "…so good to see you."

She could tell Raan knew something was wrong instantly, but Raan just hugged her back. "I am glad you are home safe, Tali. Your father is waiting for you." Raan led her deeper into the liveship, squeezing through hundreds of quarians as they walked. The Rayya was one of the biggest ships the Fleet had, but the halls were still extremely crowded. Personal space was not a luxury the quarians could afford.

Tali frowned. "How did Father know I was coming?"

"He may not seem like it sometimes, but he does care about you, Tali. He has his ways of getting information." The constant chattering ceased whenever they drew near and picked back up after they left; Tali could feel dozens of eyes tracking her wherever she went.

"What is wrong with everyone?" The stares were starting to grate on her nerves.

"The geth attack on the Citadel has been all anyone has talked about for weeks now. You stopped our greatest enemy from destroying the center of galactic civilization; of course they want to get a look at you."

"That's not what happened," Tali grumbled uncomfortably. She did not deserve this. She was the person who couldn't even save the one man who did deserve it.

"The stories may have been exaggerated through retelling. One of them has you riding a Thresher Maw through an entire geth base." Tali couldn't help snorting at that ridiculous image. "Regardless, you have become something of a legend. A symbol of hope." Raan stopped by the entrance to a small room and smiled at her. "I'm so proud of you."

Tali didn't reply, her face growing hot. If anything, Raan's words just made her feel worse. "He's in here?"

"Yes. You have your gift prepared, I assume? Is it that ship you came in?"

"Oh." Tali had almost forgotten about her Pilgrimage gift. It was the whole reason she had set out from the Fleet in the first place, but it just didn't seem important anymore. "No, it's not the ship. That was just for travel." Without further explanation, she entered the office.

Admiral Rael'Zorah sat behind a busy-looking yet organized desk, sifting through a mountain of reports. He barely looked up when Tali appeared before resuming his task. "Ah, Tali. Have a seat."

She obediently did as she was told, letting him find a stopping point in his work before saying anything. After five minutes of waiting, she became slightly irritated, but resisted the urge to disrupt his perfect little system. Finally, he set down the screen and looked up at her.

"I hear you made quite a stir on your Pilgrimage." This surprised Tali; she hadn't expected her journey to be mentioned at all. "I hope you didn't assume your exploits would be a sufficient replacement for a true gift." There's the dad I know, she thought, bitterness squashing the small hope that had fluttered ever so briefly.

"No, Father." She pressed a few keys on her omnitool, transferring the data to Rael's. Thankfully, her gift remained undamaged after the fight with Saren, and it was a simple matter to link it with her new tool. Rael examined his forearm, his eyes flitting across the orange letters. After a few moments, he raised his head and met her gaze.

"How did you obtain this?"

"Making a stir on my Pilgrimage." She didn't feel like recounting tales, and what did it matter how she got it? "I assure you, it's legitimate. Taken directly from a geth source."

He ignored her sarcasm. "This is a worthy gift, Tali. I expected no less from my daughter. I will inform the captains of the data; I am sure they will be clambering to get you on their crew."

"There is no need for that. I have already decided on my ship, if the captain will have me." She noticed her intonation changing slightly, matching the formal cadence of her father. She hated when she did that.

"Indeed? What ship would that be?"

"I wish to serve on the Neema."

Rael paused. "That is a military vessel. I am not sure-"

"It is my decision. Please relay the captain's reply at your convenience." She stood, wishing to leave before she lost her temper. She was not in the best place to deal with Rael. "If there is nothing else?"

"I…" Rael sounded almost troubled as he hesitated, looking at his daughter. "No."

"Very well." And with that, she swept out of his office.

Captain Zaar'Telah was quite willing to accept Tali onto his ship. She glazed through the ceremony, her tolerance for socializing running thin by the end of it. She had envisioned receiving her full name so many times as a child, but she couldn't focus enough to care about it now. "Tali'Zorah, from this day forward, you shall be known as Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya. May you serve your ship with honor. Keelah se'lai."

"Keelah se'lai," she murmured back to her captain. She left in a hurry before she got entangled in conversation. A few familiar faces greeted her as she made her way to her new bunk, but she managed to escape any actual dialogs. Almost there…

"Tali!" The voice halted her as if she had run into a wall.

"Little Tali, let me get a look at you!" The woman bustled around her, taking in her appearance and the sad state of her suit. "You poor thing, we'll have to do something about that immediately."

"Hello, Mrs. Breizh."

"Now Tali, I told you just to call me Laera."

"Er, right."

Laera glanced around hopefully. "I don't suppose Keenah made it back with you? You must have been too busy fighting the geth to stay in touch," she said good-naturedly.

Tali felt a pang of dread. She didn't know?

"Did he say what he would be doing for his Pilgrimage before you split ways?" Laera looked at her expectantly. "Tali?"

Images came unbidden into her thoughts. She saw the assassin pierce her side with his plutonium-laced round. She saw Keenah collapse to the floor, blood pouring out of a hole that hadn't sealed properly. She saw the assassin's flesh melting from his body as she trapped him in the incinerator. She saw a human rushing in to save her from yet another trap, his eyes a piercing blue; her Shepard…

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Breizh. Keenah didn't make it."

The woman blinked a couple of times. "I don't understand; what do you mean?"

"I was with him when he died. We found evidence…it doesn't matter." She brushed passed Laera without looking at her. "I'm so sorry." Laera remained transfixed where she stood.

Tali found her bunk and through her stuff into a corner roughly. The room was so small that she couldn't stand up straight, but this was the same of almost all living quarters on the Fleet. The Neema was actually a step up from most other ships; even though she didn't have a family, she retained a whole room to herself. Strangely, now that she was finally alone, she simply sat there looking at the floor. She had expected to be a mess once she reached her bed, but instead a great emptiness engulfed her, numbing the pain to a dull ache.

Raan stopped by after about an hour of listless staring. She sat next to Tali and joined her in the quiet, occasionally humming a small tune to herself but otherwise leaving Tali alone.

"What's that?" Tali asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Raan unwrapped the bundle in her lap and gave it to Tali. She lifted it up and examined it; the new realk was much thicker than her current one. It also didn't have scorch marks, holes, or flyaway strings trailing from various points. Maybe that's the reason everyone was looking at me. The color was much more vibrantly purple, and the designs imprinted on it were a rather artistic representation of the Zorah clans mark. The clasps were positioned in different places from most realks, coming down the front and framing her neck instead of dropping down the back. It was gorgeous.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you; it is amazing."

"If I had known how badly your visor had been marked, I would have gotten you a new one of those instead," Raan said ruefully.

"Don't worry. I have a new one ready."

"Really?" Tali pulled out her box and carefully handed it over to Raan, who opened it and gasped. "Tali, this is incredible! The craftmanship is exquisite. This must have cost a fortune; how did you get it?"

"It was a present."

"Ah." Raan didn't press the subject, no doubt sensing this was part of Tali's reticence. Tali let out a wry laugh.

"You were right, you know."

"About what?"

"Warning me about the Pilgrimage. How it can make things seem romantic. You told me not to get overly attached to people I met, because I would have to leave eventually anyway." She put her head in her hands. "I messed that up pretty badly."

Raan put her arm around Tali, pulling her close and rubbing her back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She felt her eyes stinging again. "There was this human. He was the one that led the fight against Saren. I loved him. Now he's gone." She took a deep breath and controlled the anguish. "I'm going to book a clean room to change out of this visor. Thanks for coming by."

"Of course. I'll be here whenever you need me." She knew it was irrational, but Tali had half-expected Raan to tell her off for falling for a human. When she didn't, Tali had to quickly excuse herself to keep her tears at bay.

She spent the three hours until a clean room was available wandering around the ship, pointedly avoiding conversation with anyone else. She entered the facility and waited for the light above the door to turn green before unclasping her mask. There was a small mirror in the corner, but she felt no desire to look at her reflection and so avoided it. As she sealed the new one in place, she noticed how the world around her was several shades lighter than normal; that would take some getting used to. She stored her old, battered visor in the packaging that came with her new one. She knew she was supposed to hand over old materials to the maintenance crew for reuse, but she felt she deserved a keepsake from her adventures on the Normandy.

She carefully unwound her realk and donned Raan's present, taking much longer than normal to fit the cloth correctly around her body. The hood flared out around her shoulders and hooked together across her chest. Now that she was hidden away, she studied herself in the mirror, deciding she liked the personality the realk gave her suit.

She had heard the saying that time heals all wounds. It seemed to be a popular view across many different cultures. She would cling to that thought and press on, hoping that one day the ache in her chest would lessen to something more manageable. If her father was anything to go by, however, she doubted she would feel anything akin to peace for a very long time.

Liara's stomach turned as she looked down at the horrific sight inside the stasis pod. She had made deals with Cerberus, whose atrocities she had firsthand experience with, killed dozens of people, got the one friend she had made captured, and created possibly the most powerful enemy one could have besides the Reapers, all for this mangled heap of flesh. There was no way the corpse next to her had even a marginal chance of being alive.

She glared at the woman across from her. "You said he could be brought back, Lawson. You told me he was not dead yet."

Lawson crossed her arms and gave her a cool gaze. "I said that we could restore Shepard. I never implied that he might still have a pulse when we found him."

"How do we even know this is Shepard? The body is completely unidentifiable."

"The Collectors would not have been so keen to get their hands on this stasis pod if they weren't sure of who it was. That's definitely him."

Liara paced behind the body, her steps loud and angry. "That is not exactly comforting. Even a cursory examination could tell you this body in unrecoverable."

The Cerberus agent pursed her lips. "The trauma is certainly more extensive than anticipated. I cannot guarantee success, but I can promise that without me, Shepard's chances of breathing again are nonexistent."

"Maybe he should stay that way." Liara shook her head. "Trying to bring him back from this…I do not know that it should be attempted. It seems wrong." A painful prickle danced up her spine, a little reminder of her recent coma; her extensive biotic use over the past forty-eight hours had done her body no favors.

"Do you truly believe that? We both know the Reapers are real. Even in the month that he's been gone, the Council has already swept most of what he uncovered under the rug. We need Shepard. He's a bloody icon; people will listen to him."

What convinced Liara to leave Shepard with Cerberus wasn't Lawson's speech or any logical train of thought: it was guilt. When the Normandy went down and the Commander needed her most, where was she? Stuck in a hospital bed, uselessly slumbering while Shepard disintegrated into the atmosphere of an uncharted world. No matter how many times she told herself she probably wouldn't have made a difference, a small voice in the back of her mind always countered with but what if? So she nodded at the agent and let her take him away, watching while they carted the pod onto a ship. She had done all she could for Shepard; it would have to be enough.

"Are you sure that was wise?" The deep tones made Liara jump so much her feet actually left the ground. She whirled around, ready to pulverize whoever had snuck up on her, when she saw a familiar visor covering a small, dark eye.

"Garrus? What are you doing here?"

"Who do you think saved your ass from that Blue Suns ambush?" he asked with a chuckle. "Nine shots, nine kills. I thought that would have given it away."

"I see." Liara glanced behind her as the Cerberus ship lifted off the dock and flew away from Omega. "You know what I have been doing, then?"

"I know enough." He sighed, leaning on his rifle. "Honestly, I don't see that ending well."

"Thank you for your opinion," Liara said stiffly. "It is too late in any case. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some other business to attend to."

"What business?" Garrus asked curiously as she strode around him.

"I have another friend who needs my help."

"Okay then. Are you going to tell Tali about this?" She paused, turning around to look Garrus in the eye.

"It would destroy her if it did not work. She cannot know. Better to have a happy surprise sometime in the future than to dangle hope in front of her only to snatch it away again."

"Somehow, I knew you were going to say something like that." Garrus shouldered his rifle. "I won't waste my time trying to change your mind. Like I said, I don't see that ending well, but this is your show. Good luck, Liara."

"You too." A dozen steps later she'd already forgotten about Garrus, entrenched in her plans to rescue Feron. If she was going to do this right, she would need a monumental amount of information to combat the Shadow Broker. What better place to start compiling her data than on Illium?

Tali ate her breakfast while she waited for the morning assignments to be handed out. The tightly packed tables crammed together had taken a while to get used to after her time away, but now she didn't even notice the constant jostling and elbow bumps. Despite her requests, the captain had not seen fit to let her join the marine division. She knew she didn't have the necessary training or qualifications for the unit, but she had hoped her experience in the field would be a sufficient substitution. Instead, she had spent the last few months doing maintenance and repairs for the dozens of problems that popped up daily for the Neema. She didn't mind the work; it kept her hands busy, and she was certainly good at it. After the excitement of the previous year, however, she soon grew bored of the endless tedium that had kept her happily occupied before her Pilgrimage.

Laera'Breizh was not content to simply hear that her son had died and leave it at that, which Tali understood completely. The Citadel had neglected to notify the Fleet of the discovery of Keenah's body, making it much more difficult for Laera to accept Tali's word. Finally, after recounting the story several times, Tali made an inquiry about the quarian and passed on the results, which confirmed Keenah's death, to Laera. They hadn't spoken since.

The person beside her, a marine by the name of Prazza, gesticulated wildly and almost hit her in the head, interrupting her thoughts. "Those geth bastards never stood a chance!"

"Watch it," she spat out angrily.

"Did you hear that? The famous Tali'Zorah has finally deigned to speak with us!" Here we go. Prazza got uncomfortably close, even for quarian standards, and leaned on his arm. "Please, tell us all about your extensive experience with the geth."

She pushed him back along the bench and remained silent, resolutely staring at the table. She knew he was just trying to get a rise out of her, maybe in an attempt to hear about the Battle of the Citadel, and she would not take the bait.

"I knew it was all bullshit," Prazza said with an air of superiority. "Probably some PR stunt for the Admirals. A Spectre, work with a quarian fresh on her Pilgrimage? She's probably never even seen a geth."

The ridiculousness of Prazza's conspiracy theory actually made her laugh. The feeling of genuine mirth was so foreign to her at this point; she had barely even cracked a smile for months. Once she started, it felt so good that she just couldn't stop. Eventually, her laugh devolved past the normal stages of sounds as she ran out of air, and she hunched over her seat clutching her sides as tiny squeaks emitted from her throat.

Prazza was taken aback, as was everyone else sitting near her. She knew how crazy she must look, which only made her laugh harder. Eventually, Prazza had enough and turned away with a disdainful sniff. "If you'd done half the things they say you did, they'd have let you come on at least one of the ground missions." That made her quiet down. She could perfectly imagine the smirk waiting just behind Prazza's mask. Seeing that he hit a nerve, he continued to goad her. "Come on, then. Tell me I'm wrong if I'm wrong. I bet this Spectre was made up too, just to give humanity a figurehead to rally behind. Notice how he conveniently disappeared after-"

It happened so quickly she didn't even realize what she'd done until Prazza was already pinned face down on the table. "Don't you dare mention him," she growled. "He's the only reason any of us are still alive."

Prazza vainly tried to escape her grip, shouting "Get off me!" She put more pressure on his wrist, putting an end to his struggling.

"You want to know what happened, right? Let me tell you, then. Yes, I have seen a geth. I've probably killed more geth than any quarian in living memory." She didn't know if that was true, but it sounded cool. "I've seen the resurrection of the rachni, diverted an asteroid from destroying an entire colony, and passed through a mass relay in a ground tank. That Spectre you think was made up? He was the fiercest warrior this galaxy has ever seen. Show some respect, or next time I'll break something." She drew a yelp from Prazza by squeezing his wrist a tad farther before releasing him. Tears had formed at the corner of her eyes, but they were caused by anger instead of sadness. The whole room had gone quiet, something she had never seen happen. She didn't care; venting her frustrations on Prazza, while maybe not fair to the marine, certainly made her feel better.

"Tali'Zorah?"

She turned around at her name and saw one of the marine commanders behind her. She thought his name was Kal, but she couldn't remember. Well, there goes any chance of joining the marines. "Yes?"

He handed her a screen. "Captain Telah has assigned you to head the science team on our next mission. The information you need should be contained here. We leave in a week." He inclined his head. "Ma'am." He strode away, not bothering to look at Prazza who was still nursing his wrist.

The science team. It's not the marines, but it's close enough. She relished the thought of getting to see something new, of getting off the warm but suffocating atmosphere on the Fleet. She glanced at Prazza. "Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other. Don't the marines report to the science team on these missions?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth.

"Excellent." A message beeped on Tali's omnitool. She was shocked to see it was from her father. Come see me when you have a moment. We need to discuss your role on the ground team. I'll be on the Rayya. Not on the Alarei again? Odd.

Nerves always gripped her whenever she needed to see her father, and the lengthy travel times between ships did not help settle them. By the time she stood in front of his door, she couldn't stop her hands from shaking as she pressed the button. Their last face to face conversation had not ended well; she was afraid he was going to override her captain's orders and force her to remain aboard the Neema.

When she walked in, he was surprisingly not behind his desk. The mound of datapads had only grown larger, but he ignored them, staring out the tiny window into the void. "Tali…how are you?"

What? "I'm, um, fine." He never asks how I am.

"Good. Now, when you are on the ground, I need you to tag geth pieces that might be useful for pickup. It is very important that anything you tag be nonfunctional, do you understand? We cannot risk the chance that it might somehow rebuild itself while on the Fleet."

"Okay. I can do that, sure, but why? What are you working on?"

"I cannot tell you that, Tali. Just know that it is very important for our efforts against the geth."

She hadn't expected him to tell her, but it was worth a shot. "Very well. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

He seemed hesitant. "Raan has informed me that you might require a father instead of an admiral, as she put it. I do not…I am not very good at doing that." He put his hands on his desk and leaned against them, looking older and wearier than Tali had ever seen him. "I knew the human you served under died, and that you were on the ship when it went down. I did not know that you might have had feelings for this human. Perhaps more than was appropriate."

"I don't want to listen to this," she said, hearing the edge in his tone as he said those words. His callous summary of the most traumatic event in her life and apparent disapproval of her grief rubbed salt into her still-fresh wounds.

"Wait," he called out as she turned to leave. "That did not come out right. I am not here to judge or lecture; Raan warned me away from such tactics. I want you to know that everything I do, all of my work, is for you. I will not stop working until I have built you a house of the homeworld: I promise. I realize, however, that you may have more immediate concerns than that. I am here if you need me." He jerked up suddenly when her sniffles reached his ears. Then, he did something neither of them could have anticipated. For the first time in so many years, he put his arms around his daughter.

Of course, that made Tali go into a full-scale meltdown. She cried into his shoulder for what felt like hours. He stood there silently except to turn away a few people who tried to enter his office. He did not offer any words of encouragement, but his presence was enough. This was the first time Tali actually felt marginally better after crying since Shepard died. The horrible, bloody remains of her heart might finally start to heal; at the very least, her father had given it a chance to do so.