So she was vas Normandy now. It was something to be proud of, she was sure of it, but something in the pit of her stomach was still not at ease with this. It had been a slow drift away from the flotilla, she'd thought, but now perhaps it was much faster than she'd assumed. She was sure that it seemed strange, her being on the Crew deck -- but
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Garrus’ appearance at Tali’s side was not exactly stealthy, but peripheral vision wasn’t something that quarian headdress much provided so he approached from her blind spot. Because she used to hate it back on the original Normandy. Garrus hadn’t been one of the teammates to come with Shepard and Tali to the Flotilla, but he’d heard enough disquieted murmuring to have gotten the gist of it and the gist was this: Tali’Zora wasn’t welcome back to Flotilla. The details, following that, were pretty inconsequential.
The turian folded his arms, grinning.
“And is there a reason you haven’t been around to say 'hi'? I'm hurt. I thought we got past the whole turian quarian cultural divide thing after Fleet and Flotilla came out." He was joking, but beneath that was the fact Tali had not, in a week she’d been back on the Normandy, between missions and ship-prep, come to speak with him. Garrus wasn’t going to go so far as to say he was hurt exactly, just a little… confused. "Also,Tali," he said, seriously. "I promise... it wasn’t me who loaded that hanar-asari video game on your work station two years ago. It was Kaiden. Are we good now?"
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Garrus sneaking up on her was certainly not welcome in the least. He could be so -- ridiculous.
"One," she started, "I do not believe that you suffered through Fleet and Flotilla for one second ... and two, I wasn't aware that you were incapable of venturing down into the Engineering deck to see me, either. It isn't as if Jack hates you." She saved that special privilege for Miranda.
Things with Garrus had always been strange. She wasn't used to such a -- joking manner. Most Quarians on the flotilla were far too worried about the ship breaking down or protocol not being followed to worry too much about developing a sense of humor. It made it hard for her to gauge where she sat with him, and between that and how she'd been ... feeling lately, she hadn't wanted to see him.
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Shepard had been pretty discreet about the situation with Sidonis, the same way he’d been discreet about the situation with Tali, but in both cases that didn’t stop detail from leaking back to the crew. So far, no one had dared ask him for the details on exactly where he’d put the bullet in his former squadmate… well, actually, Jack had asked but that but it was Jack. Garrus tilted his head, wondering if the two years had put any lines into the little quarian’s face, or if she looked thinner in her enviro-suit than he remembered.
Their little crew had gone to pieces so quickly. He didn’t remember. The notion made him feel guilty and might have explained some of why he hadn’t approached her until now - he wasn’t sure if the rapport that they’d shared back then still stood now. Who knew what burdens she bore now? Garrus had collected a few spare since they’d last seen eachother.
“All joking aside, it is good to see a familiar face.” A pause. Then the grin. “So to speak.”
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Her frown only deepened as he spoke. It was very hard to continue being aloof and unconcerned about others when they acted apologetic.
"And ... don't worry about it, Garrus. I wouldn't expect you to simply pick up where you'd left off with me. Two years doesn't just go away." She didn't trust Cerberus, though, and Garrus was a familiar face. She looked toward him, hesitant.
"Are you really comfortable with -- all this?" Cerberus, Shepard being ... resurrected. Something about it just felt off. She wanted Garrus' opinions on these things.
In the two years she'd spent away from the first Normandy, she'd managed to become a fully-ranking adult with the flotilla and survive a dangerous expedition to a system with a dying sun. That was quite a bit of growing up to do. Maybe she was a little thinner underneath her suit, her eyes a little harder.
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“Look, it’s confusing and we’re not always going to like what happens, but what other choice do we have? The threat is real. Shepard bought us on because he needs us on his side and I don’t think that’s the same side as Cerberus.” Garrus shook his head. “Besides, he has us to keep him on the… what is it? Straight and narrow?”
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As far as she knew, Shepard hadn't told anyone about what had happened with the flotilla (and she didn't think that Legion would be telling anyone, oddly enough). Garrus' last comment startled a laugh out of her, something that rarely happened in her day-to-day life ... or at least, her day-to-day life before Garrus and the rest of the crew.
"A Turian rogue and a Quarian exiled from the flotilla, keep Shepard on the straight and narrow? Honestly, Garrus."
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“Exhiled Tali’Zora? I didn’t…” He hesitated then reached up to briefly touch her shoulder, covey however superficially, his sympathies. “I’m sorry. No one said that.”
He didn’t quite understand all the nuances of quarian culture - they were as strange a race as ever some could be at times and yet he felt he had some sense, even through that smoggy visor, of his crewmate’s sadness. It seemed like… well, again he had no notion was banishment from your whole culture was like but he felt this might run deeper than that. Shepard had mentioned, exceptionally briefly, that if he talked to Tali he should just “Be nice.” Whatever that entailed. He’s said the mission had been rough on her, he hadn’t said anything else…
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"It is ... strange. I have not felt quite so alone since my first few nights on the Normandy so long ago, with its quiet engines and empty halls. Not that I am implying I constantly need someone in the same room as me -- ah." She shook her head, looking down at her hands folded awkwardly against the table as Garrus touched her shoulder. Even through the suit, the touch was appreciated.
Perhaps too appreciated, considering the flush that was suddenly chasing up her neck. "Thank you." She didn't think he fully understood the magnitude of the situation, not really, but at least he was trying. She wanted to ask him about the implants he was sporting, but it seemed insensitive to do so when he hadn't offered any new information about himself up to her.
It could wait.
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Garrus dropped his hand from her shoulder and gestured toward the main battery doors, where he’d been keeping to himself mostly for the duration of the mission. He hadn’t lied about the Ceberus operatives being polite and cooperative with him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hear them start speaking in lowered tones when he left the room, or stop speaking as he came within hearing distance. It was a tension that had never been on the Original Normandy. Part of the reason he’d been… anticipating having Tali back as part of the team; the familiarity.
“Look I was heading back to optimize some firing algorithms but if you have ten minutes I’d like to catch up… not that ten minutes will do it, but it would be a start.” He laughed, a short flanging huff of not-quite amusement. “As you can see, a couple of things have changed since we last served together.”
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Not that she was making fun of his skills, persay - she was just stating that she felt she could probably do a better job of things. And now he was saying things had changed -- was he talking about the implants?
Only one way to find out. As she followed him to the main doors and through them, she nodded.
"I did notice your new ... look." What more could she really say about that? What if he'd done it to himself in a fit of madness or something ridiculous like that? If she'd done something that embarrassing, she certainly wouldn't want everyone else knowing about it.
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Garrus snorted derisively as the doors slid shut behind them, bringing the main console online with a sweep of his hand.
“Something I picked up back on Omega. Don’t know if Shepard mentioned how he recruited me for this mission but I was working with a squad out of Omega, taking down criminal organizations. You know, sabotaging weapons trade, tipping off the police, assassinating gang leaders and their flunkies: the kind of behavior that gets you shot in the face by very angry people.” He glanced sardonically up from his calculations at the terminal. “So… I got shot in the face by angry people.”
By a ganglord with a gunship, but he didn’t feel like mentioning the extreme overkill, or 48 hours holed up, cornered in that fucking building, blowing skull apart one after another after another in an exhausting soon-to-be-late-stand that left deep parts of him aching with fear and some parts of him - parts he didn’t care to recall - riddled with a sense of anticipation. Bringing up his grief’s seemed poor manners to Tali and he wanted her company too acutely to make her uncomfortable recounting his… other losses on Omega. Facial scars were easily addressed. Others - less so.
He looked back to his algorithms. “Shepard got me out alive and kept me that way. Didn’t have much to argue with him when he asked me on.”
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Ahem.
"They're not so bad, though," she said quickly, "they're certainly very ... unique." Which was altogether the wrong thing to say, she was sure the moment that it popped out of her mouth. "That is to say, I don't think they'd look good on anyone else." Implying then that she thought they looked just fine on Garrus. She just thought that they fit with his rebellious past and present, that was all.
No, really.
Oh, this was so very awkward for her. She wasn't sure whether it was appropriate to try and ease back into the rapport that they'd had with each other two years previous, whether she ought to just forget any sort of attraction that she'd had to Garrus previously, or...
Or.
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The computer beeped it confirmation back at him so he was looking at the console when he reached up on finger and tapped it teasingly against the sturdy industrial sheeting plate of her visor. The dull tap was, again, another familiar gesture, one that had originally been an insult during a rather… heated argument they’d shared over the nature of the geth. At some point Garrus had gotten exceptionally rude, meant to point a finger in her face, but ended up jabbing her in the face-plate.
He didn’t remember… how exactly it had become an affectionate gesture. But it was one they’d shared back then at least and he, for his part, wanted to pick up where they’d left: as friends and allies. People who could trust each other.
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She was just flustered enough to bring one hand up and half-heartedly bat at Garrus' fingers. Picking up where they'd left off probably put Tali and Garrus in very different positions, considering, but that wasn't something she wanted to think too hard on right now. For now, she'd just try to focus on only catching up.
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Which didn’t mean they were, in any fashion, ready for way lay beyond the Omega 4 Relay, but he liked to think he’d done his part at least in preparing the ship and her crew for what waited. These thoughts distracted him slightly from what he was doing, but he managed an acceptable deviation field for the port cannons and entered it, wondering how Tali felt about their chances in the maw of Reaper space. She’d probably seen EDI’s projections for the Reaper base location by now: a real qualifier for that whole ‘suicide mission’ thing.
The computer beeped angrily at him. “Shit. Tali, what were the new numbers at semi-warp? It’s giving me a no go.” He waved her over beside him to look. “Here and…” He reached past her to point. “There. Do you see the error?”
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"I see it," she said, leaning forward of her own accord to put in some new numbers on the console. "Just a few more adjustments, and..." she tried the modified solution. Hopefully it worked, or she'd feel -- inadequate, perhaps? Impressing Shepard and the rest of the crew wasn't a priority, but she didn't like thinking that she might be doing something terribly wrong.
"Once Shepard upgrades the shields as I suggested, we're going to have to calibrate again."
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