#mantisscope

[spakonarchive]

@mantis-scope          /          closed starter.

The last forty-eight hours had been nothing short of a nightmare. Tali was sure she could still hear the blaring of sirens in her ears. Her body still felt like it was shaking from the explosions and uneven footing. The pods had all made it to the relay, but some of the crew were missing.

Pressley. Commander Shepard. Joker wasn’t saying anything, but he didn’t need to. C-Sec was ready and organizing the castaways. Most were going back to the Alliance and didn’t need a ship. The Fleet had sent out a ship soon as Tali delivered the news -- they were en route to the Citadel. That meant all Tali could do was wait. Nobody had said goodbye; they were all too shocked to do so.

She had no room here, no where else to go, and so she waited in the sitting room of the C-Sec HQ. The television was playing the news. She didn’t want to watch it. Fortunately for her, company came so she didn’t have to.

“Garrus,” Tali gasped. It was soothing to see him, deeply comforting in a strange way. Something dependable and normal. She gripped the blanket on her shoulders as a lump formed in her throat. It choked the subharmonics of her throat, but the sorrow still warbled through the suit speaker, “...Keelah.”

[spakonarchive]

@mantis-scope          /          closed starter.

She’d been keeping her distance for a bit after the successful attack for several reasons.

The most pragmatic one was because Cerberus was curious why her performance was slipping in terms of timely reports and information drops. The emotional part of her was hurt Garrus had been so dismissive of the fact she’d been screwed over so stupendously by his second in command. She could have died, and Garrus wasn’t even willing to look into it.

The petty part of her and the one who knew she was right all along was digging -- Sidonis. There was something fishy going on with him. She’d worked with plenty of slippery people in her time, and he was absolutely, without a doubt, one of them. She needed to find the proof herself, and she had. It just took longer than she would have liked, unfortunately.

Sidonis was working with the Blue Suns. A long and thorough dig through their databases had proved it -- his safety in exchange for Archangel. The information had barely made it onto her Omni-tool before she was peeling through Omega traffic in her car. She kept a decent tab on Garrus, but calling some of his men to pin him down was wasting valuable time. There wasn’t much of it left.

Still, her luck held out. She’d managed to cut him off here and now. She was stubborn when she wanted to be, and so she stepped in front of him to keep him from entering the warehouse where he’d intended to meet a man who wasn’t there, “You need to listen to me. Hear me out first, okay? Sidonis, he’s -- he’s about to screw all of you over. You need to get back to base.”

[spakonarchive]

@mantis-scope​ sent: "I never see you cry."

“I try not to,” case in point, she reaches up to wipe the corner of her eye. There’s a slight redness to her cheeks, a faint tremble in her lip. Shepard’s always been a pretty silent crier. She won’t sob or scream or wail, because if she starts then she has to admit she’s weak, and maybe she won’t stop. Maybe it’d finally be time to break apart, and there’s no time or luxury to.

Mordin’s voice warbles from the datapad in her hands. A gift delivered this morning as James made eggs for hungover party guests. She can hear them cleaning up downstairs. He sings amazing grace and it reminds Shepard of her grandmother, of Legion and Thane and Ashley and of course Mordin.

There’s been no time to grieve. Shepard sniffs as he resolves to sing patter songs from here on out. Her heart aches. He’s dead, and she’s been drinking and spending time in the fancy wards of the Citadel. There’s no time for a break, even if they needed one and didn’t have a choice. He wouldn’t hold this against them.

He should have been here, too.

“Sorry. I’ll be alright. You coming to get me for breakfast?”

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@mantis-scope           /           cont.

He had been sitting on Tuchanka for awhile, but Garrus didn’t need to rub it in. Wrex grumbled, a rolling sound in the back of his throat, to voice his displeasure, “You’re too shrimpy to be able to move me. I insist -- ladies first.”

[cryochronism]

@mantis-scope // MEME.

[spakonarchive]

@mantis-scope sent: 📜

[spakonarchive]

@mantis-scope          /          continued.

Her lips were pressed into a tight line -- she was used to getting yelled at for things beyond her control. Everyone was on edge, and understandably so. It was better to take it all in stride; hard calls were called that for a reason. Her hand found the back of his armor, and Shepard let it rest there, cupping the edge and giving him a comforting shake. No harm, no foul. How do you do it?

“Civilian ships -- what we fight for in the first place. How many people are on those ships? How are they fitted -- do they fly fast? Are their stealth systems comparable? How many soldiers are on the war cruisers? Are they high ranking? Do they have scouting systems?” All factors to consider. All things that shouldn’t have been factors when it came to protecting life.

Yet they were, and this was how it had to be. She rubbed the back of his neck gently, a small massage to help him ease tension. Breathe, Big Guy. “We need soldiers, yes, they also have more of a chance to fight. Do we want them to fight? Best case scenario whoever flies this path gets out without being noticed. Worst case, they turn into soldiers for the Reapers.” Shepard sounded tired. Her voice was low, “Can women and children fight the indoctrinated?”

He knew the answer, but it was still his call to make. Whatever it was, she believed in him.

“Sometimes it’s hard to sleep,” she admitted, but it wasn’t comforting even if she tried to deliver it like it was, “You won’t be up alone, at least.”

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@mantis-scope          /         cs.

The Normandy was a party. Rightfully so, considering the circumstances. The Citadel was damaged, but safe. They had gotten a considerable amount of alcohol, and Tali was drinking for probably the first time in her life. Turian brandy was a little rough for her systems, and odds are she’d have a small allergic reaction later on. Maybe it was worth distilling it a couple more times. She’d have to consider that for next time she drank.

Floating around from crewmate to crewmate, toasting with them -- all of it was fun, and had her head spinning pleasantly for the time being. When it was time to flit by the C-Sec officer, she was already considerably tipsy.

“Garrus!” “We did it. Can you believe it? It feels so surreal to me. I never imagined anything like this happening in my life. I thought my Pilgrimage would be boring.” A subtle shake of her head at the innocence of that assumption, but she wasn’t sad about it, “I was so wrong. I’m going to ask the Commander if I can stay on board for a little longer yet. What are you planning on doing?”