#moshae sjefa | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tieflingsarebadatnamingthings · 1 year

Text

Wrote a Mass Effect Andromada short fic.

None of the doors on the Tempest could be slammed shut. Sara hadn’t encountered a manual door since being on Earth, which made sense because why would they waste wood on a door that couldn’t keep out the kett? But she missed the feeling of grabbing the edge of a door and swinging it shut with all her might. Maybe it would have made her feel a little better as she stormed into her room.

Tann was being an ass, asking her for more than she could do. Addison had made a quip about her needing to keep earning her title. Eos was apparently experiencing earthquakes which meant they had to take a break from the ongoing negotiations with the angarans and their efforts on Voeld even though they were so close to rescuing Moshae Sjefa. Sara’s heartrate was uneven, according to Sam, and he wouldn’t leave her alone about it. Jaal was angry. Liam was being moody and wouldn’t talk to her. Scott still hadn’t woken up. Peebee refused to sleep in a proper bed, remaining in the escape pod. Gil and Kallo were fighting, again. Vetra was hiding something. Lexi was worrying over the burn on Sara’s side even though it was fine. And apparently something on the ship was eating their supplies.

There was barely time to breath, let alone sleep or eat. Despite this and the criticisms from the Nexus, Sara thought she was doing alright. Until Cora started talking about the asari ark again. About how they needed a real Pathfinder. Well, maybe that wasn’t how the woman had put it but that was how it sounded every single time she opened her mouth and talked about the asari or Alec.

Sara could feel her throat slowly closing, like a hand around her neck starting to squeeze. She knew that feeling intimately now, after getting a little too up close and personal with some kett. Whenever one got ahold of her, she’d stick them with her omni-blade. She wished she could do that now. Jab forward, attack, make something else gasp for air. Writhe in pain. Feel what she felt for just one fucking minute.

“Pathfinder, I’m detecting higher than normal stress levels.” Sam spoke up, startling Sara enough that it made her gasp and forced air into her lungs.

Right. Sam. The only one who could feel what she felt. Who was actively feeling what she felt. Sara’s eyes stung so she closed them and covered them with her hand, blocking her view of Sam’s node in the corner. As if it did anything to hide from him. “Sam.” Sara’s voice cracked. She sounded rough, scratchy. She cleared her throat, mentally making a note to be careful not to speak near Lexi without taking a drink first. Last thing she needed was the medic thinking she had a cold. “Sam.” There, better. She dropped her hand away to “look” at Sam. “Who did Dad want to be Pathfinder?”

She hadn’t meant to ask that. But there was no hiding from an AI that lived in your head.

Sara expected an immediate response from Sam. She’d asked this question before and he’d answered before. He should have given her the same bullshit immediately. But this time he paused. Hesitated. Like a person unsure of what to say and not wanting to lie. It was evidence that Sam was changing. And Sara couldn’t decide if that made her mad or not.

“Your father certainly seemed to intend to pass the position of Pathfinder to either you or your brother.” Sam finally stated. His voice still held no inflection, that hadn’t changed yet. But Sara was starting to be able to read him. Maybe it was exposure, constantly having to speak to him. Or maybe it was the link. It didn’t matter.

“Sure. But which of us did he think should be Pathfinder?” Sara pressed. Her neck was burning. Pinpricks travelled down her back, sharp little prickles that felt like needles being rapidly jammed into her skin. Her right leg was jumping but she couldn’t move, the rest of her body locked in anticipation of the answer. Sam hesitated again and Sara couldn’t stand it. “Sam!”

“Scott.”

The answer should have felt like a blow. She wanted it to hurt like one, a sharp ache that she could focus on. But she’d known already, hadn’t she? She’d known since the moment she woke up with Sam’s voice in her head. It was never supposed to be her. So instead of a blow she got a spread of heat through her body as she finally accepted the truth. She scoffed. It turned into a laugh.

“Wow.” She breathed out, turning away from the physical representation of Sam on her table. Her legs worked again, letting her slowly walk a few steps away. “So even my own father didn’t think I could do this.” Sara laughed again, looking up at the ceiling of her room as her eyes stung once again. “Great. That’s just great.”

“Your father believed that you had the most experience needed for Pathfinding. But he believed Scott more capable of making hard decisions.” Sam said. And then, probably trying to lessen her pain, he added, “I believe he wanted to spare you some hardship.”

“But he didn’t want to spare Scott?” Sara questioned, spinning on her heel to look at Sam again. He was silent however and she turned away again, started pacing. “No, of course not. Sara’s too emotional but Scott? Scott I never let have emotions so he’s perfect for the job!” Sara laughed again at her poor imitation of her father’s voice. Though she thought she captured his self-righteousness.

Sam had no physical body so there was no body language to tell Sara he was uncomfortable. But she knew. “Sara—.”

“He thought I was weak. That’s what that means. He thought I was weak.” Sara said. Her pacing was getting faster but she couldn’t stop or slow down. There was too much in her now, she felt like she was vibrating. If she didn’t pace she was going to explode. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d done everything to be the next Pathfinder, he never would have given it to me if he hadn’t had to.” Her arms swung out grandly, harshly. Gesturing to nothing. “I was never good enough for him. Scott was never good enough for him. You probably weren’t even enough for him, Sam! No one was ever enough for perfect Alec fucking Ryder!”

The box she kicked across the room was filled with tech bits. Mostly broken and damaged items she tinkered with when she couldn’t sleep, then whatever tools she kept with them. A wrench flew out of the box and hit the floor with a clang before sliding towards the couch. She heard things break as they slammed against each other as the box hit the wall. A few loose bolts had also come out of the box and she watched them hit the floor before her attention was drawn up by the door opening.

Drack took a few steps into her room before stopping, only coming in far enough to let the door shut behind him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move besides breathing, and his face gave away nothing. Sara had only ever seen him that still when they were sneaking up on kett, pausing to not get caught. Now he was doing the same thing to her. Waiting to see what she would do. If she’d attack.

Sara had probably already been shaking. But now she felt the trembling in her hands. “He never fucking believed in me, Drack.” Sara said. Her voice was shaking too. She hated it. Hated herself. Alec had been right, she was too emotional. “He wanted Scott to be Pathfinder, not me.”

Drack’s expression didn’t change but he titled his head slightly.

Sara tried to keep the tears building in her eyes from falling but the second she blinked they started falling with no hope of her stopping them. She was still burning, still vibrating, but she was locked in place again. She couldn’t pace with Drack looking at her, couldn’t gesture and yell and kick at things. Maybe, maybe, one of the others but not Drack. She didn’t want him to think she was erratic. That she was too emotional. “How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to deal with all of this when I know if he was here he’d be questioning everything I did? Disapproving of every choice I make?” The sob that escaped her throat caught her by surprise but she didn’t try to stop it. She never had been able to reign herself back in when she got this way. “I mean, he never approved of anything we did. Never. Except when we joined the Initiative. So you’d think I wouldn’t care.” That would make sense. If she just didn’t care. “I shouldn’t care.” Alec was an asshole. Had been for so many years. She shouldn’t care. “Why do I still care?”

Drack probably only just understood what she said as her voice gave out around her last words. Nothing more than a squeak came out of her mouth, though her lips still formed the words. Sara let the next sob come without saying anything else. Then the next. Slowly, she curled in on herself. Wrapped her arms around her waist and looked away from the krogan she desperately wanted approval from. She wouldn’t have it now. Not acting like this.

But when Drack finally spoke, it wasn’t to chastise her. “From what I’ve heard, Alec Ryder was a real piece of work.” He said, calm as can be. As if Sara wasn’t breaking apart in front of him. “Didn’t take him for the nurturing type. Didn’t think he was this bad though.” There was disgust in his voice. For a brief moment, Sara thought it was directed at her. But one glance up told her otherwise, Drack was looking at Sam accusingly. She didn’t understand why but at least he wasn’t disgusted with her. Drack turned his attention back to her and came forward, reaching but not touching. “Come on kid, you need to sit down for a bit.” He said and gestured towards the couch.

It took a second for Sara to process the suggestion but she followed it, walking slowly on shaky legs until she could collapse onto the leather. The couch was barely worn in, she hardly ever got to spend time in her room long enough to lounge on it. The most time she’d spent on it was when she had accidentally passed out on it while trying to fill out a report to Tann. Sara curled into the couch, looking away from Drack so she could focus on forcing her breathing back to normal. On calming the sobs shaking her chest.

Drack didn’t sit down, couldn’t on this couch, but he stayed close to her. “You know, I never met your old man. But I don’t think I would have liked him.” He said when her breathing had evened slightly.

Sara shook her head. “You would have.” She managed to say. Drack was smart, he knew how to pick allies. He would have gotten along with Alec if it meant helping his granddaughter and the other krogans.

“Really?” Drack grunted. “Only good thing I know about him is that he helped start the Initiative.”

The noise Sara made was meant to be a laugh but it just sounded a lot like another sob. “You should talk to Cora. She knows more about him than I do.” Sara reached up and wiped at her cheeks but they were so wet that it did nothing. “She knew how he wanted to die. I didn’t even know his favorite color.”

“Bet that stings.”

She loved Drack. She loved his bluntness, his willingness to push even when he probably shouldn’t. Because it gave her the excuse she needed to finally vent. To say things she’d refused to voice before then. She couldn’t be blamed for what she said, how she felt, if Drack had practically invited her to talk about it. “It hurts.” It felt good to say that. To finally admit that Cora was hurting her, whether intentional or not. Sara uncurled slightly, turning back towards Drack. “Everytime she talks about him. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. And I want to throw up. Just hearing her say his name.” Sara shook her head. “It’s like she’s talking about a completely different person. He was my dad. Mine. But she knew him better. Liked him better.”

Sara spotted an unopened bottle on her coffee table and uncurled fully to grab it. She gripped it tightly in both of her hands, almost cradling it to her chest. She didn’t drink much, which was why when she did she always went over the top. But holding something made her feel better. Made it easier to hide her shaking hands.

“And you know, I really hate hearing her say she misses him. That he should be here.” A hint of disgust creeped into her voice and she felt an immediate rush of guilt. It wasn’t Cora’s fault Alec was a bad father. “I hate when anyone says that.” She corrected, staring at the coffee table now. “I know it’d be better if he was here. That things would be easier. But it hurts. It’s like they’re saying they wish I was dead. That he should have let me die so he could be here instead.” Her grip tightened on the bottle. “Maybe he should have.”

Honestly, she hadn’t meant to say that. But it slipped out. And she couldn’t take it back.

There was a lot of silence around her. Some of it heavier than the rest, coming from Drack. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t lift her head or even move her gaze from the table to anything else. Just waited for the disparaging remarks to come.

“No.”

Sara flinched. Drack sounded angry. Now she couldn’t look at him.

“You think your dad could have done half the shit you do?” Drack questioned.

That didn’t make sense. Had Drack misspoke? “He…He was the Pathfinder, Drack.” She swallowed and let her eyes dart to Drack’s legs then away again. She’d been certain Drack knew about most of her duties but maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t understand that Alec had made the job, that he had been perfect for it. “He knew what to do. In-In any situation, he knew what to do.”

“So he would have been able to handle the angara? Would have understood their whole feelings thing?” Drack pressed.

Sara wanted to immediately say yes but she hesitated. Alec thought she was too emotional. What would he have thought of the angarans? How long would he have been able to hold out until he snapped at them for not approaching things logically enough?

“What about the team?” Drack continued. Sara finally looked up at him, took in the scowl on his face. Not an ounce of his anger seemed directed at her but it was there in the set of his shoulders and the roughness of his voice. “You listen to us, kid. And you don’t try to fix things when you can't. You respect these people. Care about what they’re going through. Would your old man? Think your team would do well with him?”

That was easier to answer. No, the team would not have done well under Alec. Not personally. Professionally, they’d be as efficient as the Tempest. But every last one of them would be suffering, forced to keep their worries and opinions to themselves. Alec wouldn’t have cared about why Liam was moody so long as he got the job done. He would have told Jaal to get over his anger because it was a distraction. He’d threaten Gil and Kallo with replacement if they didn’t stop fighting. He’d make Vetra tell him whatever she was hiding, even though it seemed personal, because he didn’t want any secrets on his ship. Suvi would be patronized for her beliefs. And Peebee? Alec probably wouldn’t have ever let her on board.

The idea of her team being treated like that reignited her anger. It wasn’t as strong as before but it burned away some of the tightness in her chest.

Drack wasn’t done. “And Eos? Would Alec do favors for those people? Put necklaces on cliffs?”

No. No he wouldn’t. If it wasn’t important to the mission, he wouldn’t have done it. “He would have—He wouldn’t have done anything that didn’t pertain to the mission. Even research. If it wasn’t pertinent or promising, he’d leave it to someone else.” Sara admitted.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have been better than her at the job. He was Alec Ryder.

Drack nodded but she could tell by the look in his eye he didn’t trust her. That he knew she was still doubting. “See? And if that isn’t enough for you, know I wouldn’t have worked with him.” The krogan declared.

This time, Sara’s laugh sounded a little more like an actual laugh. Startled and disbelieving but a laugh. “Really?” She doubted. She wasn’t sobbing anymore but the tears were still slowly falling. She was running out of them but for now they kept sliding down her cheeks and dripping off her chin onto her hands. One tear hit the bottle’s cap, making it glimmer.

“Like you said, if he was here you’d be dead. And I’m not working with a man who chose his own life over his kid’s.” Drack said. Sara couldn’t even look for a lie. There was nothing about him that allowed her to doubt him. Drack never would have worked with Alec.

Sara tried to imagine the team without Drack but couldn’t. He was integral to how they functioned. He could work with anyone else on the team, fighting alongside them seamlessly. And even if he didn’t, he was so important to making sure the krogans got a voice. Having him on the team meant Tann had a harder time speaking badly about the krogans and excluding them from future plans. Khash got heard much easier with Drack on the Pathfinder team. Drack needed to be on the team and he wouldn’t have worked with Alec.

“I—.” Sara swallowed. She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to say thank you. She wanted to tell Drack she was sorry for unloading on him. She wanted to admit that she’d been afraid of him rejecting her. She wanted to tell him she wished she could have seen him meet Alec, just so she could revel in the disgust the krogan would have felt for the man. All of it made her feel guilty. It manifested in her body as a curling feeling in her stomach. She wanted to tell Drack she felt guilty. Wanted to tell him that Alec hadn’t been bad at all when they were kids, that she and Scott had actually felt loved back then. She wanted to defend her dad and condemn him too. But instead, all she said was, “Okay.”

Drack reached out and, in a gesture that had to be the gentlest he’d ever been, pet her head. “I’m proud to work with you, kid.” He told her.

If she hadn’t already been crying, Sara would have burst into tears. “Thank you.”

She couldn’t say anything else. Thankfully, it seemed like Drack was satisfied enough to let the conversation die. He pulled his hand away, which made her miss the contact but gave her room to breath. Sara let herself relax back into the couch, allowed herself to appreciate how comfortable it was. She focused on breathing, on evening herself out. Drack stayed by her for a few moments, watching her calmly, before turning away. She expected him to leave but he didn’t. Drack started picking up the box she’d kicked. Sara watched him, eyes dropping, wondering why he was doing it but not having the energy to ask him. She could hear him humming. Felt the bottle in her hands slip to the floor and heard it hit with a dull thunk.

Sara fell asleep, forced into unconsciousness by the exhaustion her breakdown had caused. Drack noticed after he’d put the box and its lost trinkets back in their place. “Hey Sam.” He spoke out to the room. He didn’t like to address the thing but sometimes it was necessary. Didn’t mean he had to look at the little hologram of him in the corner. “Give the order that no one’s to bother Ryder for awhile. Kid needs her sleep.” He told the AI.

Drack grabbed a pillow and all of the blankets off of Sara’s bed. He wanted to put her on the bed but was worried she’d wake up and not go back down. So he carefully lowered her to lay down on the couch, putting the pillow beneath her head before it touched the cushions. Then he threw the blankets over her. He didn’t know how tightly he should put the blankets around her, humans were fragile but the room felt warm enough. So he let the blankets hang loose over her. Finally, he gave her another gentle pat, this time on her shoulder, before exiting her room. He needed a workout. Something to get out the anger he wanted to unleash on Alec Ryder but would never get the chance to.

#my writing #fanfiction #mea #mass effect andromeda #mass effect #also on my ao3 #no beta we die like men #no beta #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: sucidal thoughts

5 notes · View notes

crqstalite · 10 months

Text

[2] love from the other side -

This city always hangs a little bit lonely on me Loose, like a kid playing pretend in his father's suit I'd never go, I just want to be invited, oh Got to give up Get the feeling, get the feeling Don't fight it, fight it

chapter summary: no one said raising a galaxy would be easy, not with thousands of people relying on one organization and their pathfinders. and yet talis is still in this meeting, pretending like it is.

[set post-mass effect andromeda.] [female ryder/jaal ama darav, male ryder/cora harper] prev chapter > next chapter

chapter specific warnings: none

October 2nd, 2820 [1 year and 7 months since arrival to Andromeda] - Nexus Operations

Logs: Talis Meissa Ryder-Lucero

“We need the space, Ryder. People are waking up almost everyday, they need places to live and cultivate their lives. We can’t be dealing with restrictions and outright bans from worlds we already have rudimentary outposts on.”

Does he ever stop talking? Talis wonders, squeezing her eyes shut as she she rubs at her temples. Tann had called a meeting in the newly constructed council chambers specifically to discuss more immigration efforts from the Nexus with the Council and Pathfinders. That was fine, she doesn't think that the nine of them in leadership had ever had a meeting together after Hyperion's crash on Meridian. It was nice almost, to not have to play telephone with every leader and send out emails to the other Pathfinders — or receive them. But two hours deep and the only thing they haven’t circled argued about is exploring other uninhabitable planets with plans to terraform. Fine by her, it’d take some decades even with the research they continued to fine tune, and it was just up her alley, but the Council’s lack of consideration about already existing Angaran ownership over the cluster was about to cause her yet another migraine.

It happened in her mother’s and father’s respective home countries, and she’d be damned if she let it happen here, under her watch.

At the very least, the chairs were comfy, as she sits smack dab in the middle of the other Pathfinders, with the Moshae at one end of the table and Tann at the other. The coffee could be better (if she were really working as well as they said, she could get some of the good stuff soon right?), and the new uniforms could arguably be better. They look like Nexus cheerleaders, long pullover turtlenecks and slacks colored in white and blue with the Initiative insignia over the chest. And not the cute kind.

Raeka’s pin glints off the light in the room, causing her to look away from the Salarian. In her brief moment of distraction, she carefully avoids the critical glance he gives her that Addison mirrors directly across from her. Her mind tended to wander in these discussions, mostly because she had plenty to offer and few willing ears.

That’d changed at least, since Moshae Sjefa had accompanied her, considering Talis had appointed her as the Heleus ambassador a few months ago. To the disappointment of most of the council — Tann in particular because it put the Moshae a step beneath him in terms of power — but Talis was nothing if not a regular disappointment these days. The older Angara was a comforting and reasonable presence, almost a friend, but she's sure the meeting is already taking more of a toll on her than either of them had bargained for. Tann, of course, was trying to run the show like it was his, and Addison wasn’t far behind — though their interests diverged, their tactics at the table didn’t. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Moshae, surrounded by people who wanted her land that barely helped her take her own back. It didn’t help that, much like Talis herself, she was a scientist. One respected by her people, but at her core she was a woman who enjoyed the confines of her lab, not the boardroom.

She'd make sure to send a fruit basket to her office when she returned to Aya. And maybe some Angaran liquor.

"We do not have the resources to support your exponential growth onto your 'habitats'," The Moshae says to her right, the picture of calm but her tense mannerisms speak a different story, lips pressed together in a thin line, "With the Kett gone, we are just now able to reclaim the worlds they took from us. We appreciate all the Pathfinder and Initiative have done for us, but not only do these worlds need time to heal, we also need the time to find our footing again in our home."

"Meridian has pushed the time table forward, Moshae," Addison responds to her left, folding her hands in front of her. She’s a little less wound up these days, not quite relaxed — Talis thinks this would cause her to implode — but with outposts running and people moving in, she’s at least more reasonable. Less cold. Less likely to yell at her in the middle of Operations at least. Talis prefers her like this, hair growing into a comfortable auburn bob around her ears, but the way she seems so confident about her next steps is bordering on stubborn, "With it effectively terraforming Heleus' vault planets faster than traditionally, we're already seeing the effects of it on Elaaden, Voeld, even Kadara and Eos are almost mimicking desert regions on Earth. Our scientists are amazed, these worlds could hold the population of Earth twice over.”

"We have the people ready to build and ready to live on these planets. While we support the Angara's efforts to rebuild their own civilization, understand that we need the space to be able to survive as well." Tann adds, standing at the end of the long table. If Talis wasn't well-acquainted with him, she would say he was intimidating. After all, he was still the sole leader of the Initiative by far, and if he really wanted, he could continue making her life a living hell should she step too far out of bounds. But considering that she is, he's not. Regardless of if he stands some feet above her, she’s long shed the internal fear of a man who could barely see past his own interests. He was too cold, too analytical for her tastes. He valued himself above others, and that grinded against her gears.

She carefully began testing the waters of working indirectly against him in the last few months. Less afraid to speak up to him, or go over his metaphorical head someone more sympathetic to get access or permission somewhere.

Her father would call it using her resources.

He doesn’t like this new fact about Talis, considering how many flickering glances he directs towards her, likely unhappy with how she leans back into her chair, arms crossed over her chest.

But what was he going to do about it? Scold her like a child?

(He'd tried this, and quickly discovered using her father or her age as an insult was unlikely to get him anywhere. She'd already beat herself up over both of those topics, it was unlikely he could do anymore damage that she hadn't done already.)

The Salarian was smart at least, she would give him that. Calculating and talented in his own right. And while he was usually bargaining for his own gain, he rarely forgot about the rest of the Initiative. Leadership could be worse, it’s one of the few things she tells herself at night so she can sleep a little easier.

The Moshae muses on this, pursing her lips, "Director, forgetting even that planets like Voeld are our homeworlds, these worlds are still incredibly fragile. Voeld itself is speeding through an ice age, causing irreversible damage to existing flora that can not reasonably keep up with development. Harvesting them for further resources in the way you say you need could cause more damage that the Jardaans' Vaults can not repair."

“We’ll never know if we don’t try, and we can’t afford to be playing it safe when projected numbers say the Nexus will reach critical capacity within the next decade. We don’t have the same space as the Citadel does, even with the construction efforts.” Tann rebuffs.

“Then that,” The Moshae stands herself, on equal footing with Tann. Her eyes narrow at him, hands planted on the conference table, “Is poor planning on your part.”

“Will Meridian be available for colonization efforts any time soon?” The pair of leaders go quiet at Vedaria’s question, and she seems almost sheepish when all eyes land on her. The few months of being one of the other Pathfinders has done her some good, at least she’s beginning to contribute to discussions now, usually with her people’s interests in mind. Though she has centuries on Talis, she still doesn’t have the same experience yet as a Pathfinder, clear through her nervous picking at her clothing. She’s not a public speaker, far more a follower than a leader, but she was eager to do her best at the job. Her commando training at least came in handy in firefights. Talis motions for her to sit up, the universal moniker to be more confident in oneself. The Asari sighs before continuing, smoothing out her uniform top and sitting straighter, “If we only have certain places to go on Eos and restricted areas on Kadara, then shouldn’t we turn to expanding the Port? Meridian is basically our next Omega, it’s for everyone.”

Ding, Talis winces at the analogy, but she gets the point. Common space with a decently high crime record, but she wasn’t wrong that population spread indicated plenty of different species took refuge there. Omega itself was also a massive space station.

“Meridian is still an unknown, there are mainly concerns about it being safe past the perimeter we’ve set up. Minor encounters with the wildlife are common, but they seem docile. Still, venturing further into the jungles isn’t wise, especially considering that we do have concerns about setting up proper interstellar travel for new Human colonists,” Kandros answers, and Talis inwardly cringes when she sees Vedaria’s shoulders fall. The asari folds in on herself while the military director continues, “Not forgetting that we have yet to scout it. We haven’t had a Pathfinder team on planet yet.”

“Do we really need a Pathfinder to clear the way? We have APEX teams for that, especially knowing that Meridian is a Gaea world anyway. All of your Human specialists and scientists, whatnot, they can keep themselves entertained for years there. We just need to venture out from the Port, set up our first real cities and—“

“And yet, do you really know anything about the Jardaan, Director? Or the Remnant?” Talis finally asks, leaning back in her own chair when she cuts the man off. His eyes narrow at her, and she takes that as an offer to continue, “It’s not like you were the one chasing down Remnant leads all this time or anything but hey, what do I know?”

“Now isn’t the time to be chasing after our new Protheans, Ryder. We can ask those questions later, when we actually have labs that aren’t glorified closets in Nexus operations.”

“If you’re planning on settling Meridian, we’re going to need to know a lot more about it before we start putting down skyscrapers.” Talis had already had her reservations about settling Meridian, mostly for the sole reason that she still had years worth of things to discover on planet. Even Peebee was still incredulous over the wealth of data left behind in the vault, and not all of it pointed towards things being as easy as they’d hoped.

This was also ignoring that the Tempest crew was just now getting back to real work, months after Meridian had been fought over, enough time for retrofits and time to heal. The way the bruise under her new, admittedly soft turtleneck, rubs against the fabric still makes her wince as she leans her elbows against the table, “My team and I are still sifting through just what was inside the main vault. We haven’t even begun to touch what ecology was affected by us traipsing there while we were chasing the Archon, and I can’t imagine the kind of disruption we might have caused to the local flora and fauna. Who’s to say we won’t cause that as well if we start building before we understand what’s going on?”

“Then what plan do you have, Ryder? I’ve accepted humanity taking Meridian for themselves, and Ryder-1 when that is suitable for life. But the people coming off the Arks still need homes. Not everyone coming out of stasis, regardless of species, wants to live on the Nexus or play in an endless lottery to live in a shoebox in one of the outposts.” The Salarian paces at the end of the table, his tone just edging on frustration enough to know that he’d probably send a long email after this meeting just so Talis knew how angry with her he was. She’d make a mental note to have SAM archive it as soon as it came in.

She doesn’t think he’s entirely wrong. The Nexus had only really been functional for a year and some months, with construction stopping and starting for various reasons. They’re likely still at only maybe fifty percent capacity, and that was still an optimistic guess. While she could be incredibly proud of her work to get outposts set up as well, if she tried to say that most of them besides Prodromos weren’t glorified towns with ready-made cardboard boxes for buildings…

She’d be one hell of a liar.

"I'm not advising for it to be forever, the plan was to give it another year just to see what we were sitting on," Talis says, holding up her hands in the universal 'back off' sign, "We still barely understand the Remnant to begin with. We don't know what extent the vaults terraform to, I mean, hell, they could swing us pretty wildly the other direction. The Moshae’s right — Voeld’s speeding ice age is already upsetting most of its natural functions. Who knows, that might kill off just about all of the natural flora and fauna on planet. Do we really need to be desettling that too?"

"I've seen our projected data from our scientists. Myself and Ryder have collaborated with them -- it is not unlike work I took on in the Milky Way to restore biodiversity on my homeworld. But this...this is on such a large scale and is incredibly delicate," Raeka nods to her left, resting her chin on her propped up hands, sweeping those present with a raised brow. That was one thing Talis was still semi-surprised about, but nonetheless grateful for. Raeka’s background in biology, "Still, I am not a woman without reason. Stalling out wave three is our best bet considering we're somehow in the middle of another one. Finishing wave two and supporting our already bloated population is better than continuing on our crash course.”

Talis agrees, shrugging her uninjured shoulder noncommittally, "Leusinia is still working on waking back up leadership properly, and Natanus is still finding people across the cluster. I say give them the resources to house their wave ones, let them start up their respective initiatives. Then we really need to cut off anymore development."

"If it's purely a numbers game, I say we keep developing the outposts. They're already functioning like Ports, we might as well give them the support to act as such." Avitus says, distant to her right., "A lot of them are either dealing with Exiles or pockets of Kett, if we're quick and organized, we could have proper towns within the year. It might get a little tight for a while on supplies until we can right supply routes, but it'd be for the best. Wake enough people to man the stations. After that, we put a pin in this and come back when the Angara are ready for more of us."

“The Krogan have already found a foothold on Elaaden, and whether we like it or not, they’re expanding. We’re expanding. As long as we don’t step on any Angaran toes, slow and steady is best.” Kesh steps in for Talis this time, gesturing gently at the Moshae, who nods to her in agreement, “I agree with the Pathfinders. We can’t be waking people in droves like we’ve been doing, it’s unsustainable. Once we finish waking wave two, we’re going to need to wait until we can start with the non-essentials.”

“Even if we slow down off projected numbers, which we have already, we can’t wait forever, a lot of humans are already coming off the procreation blockers, whether through medservices or naturally. We’ve been getting news of newborns just about every other day. Asari are following rather closely, we’ve got doctors here on the Nexus studying effects on human and Asari pregnancy here in the Heleus Cluster. I’d argue that the Turians and Salarians aren’t far behind, those families need places to go. Need places to thrive.” Addison rebukes, tapping the table with a finger. Talis makes another mental note to see how Dr. Kennedy was doing these days. Likely that was exactly who she had on her mind, and it likely didn’t help Kesh much to know her own clutch was growing up in a cluster with barely enough for anyone, “It may not be ideal, but we need these towns and cities faster than a decade from now. More than just outposts, more than just one on every habitable planet we've come across. Moshae, certainly with the Kett gone, your people are considering similar family-building moves? There shouldn’t be anything saying we can’t build alongside you.”

“Alongside is not a problem, Director Addison. The problem I have is that your Initiative outnumbers my people perhaps 3 to 1. For every settlement we build as we begin to right ourselves again from years under the Kett, you will have two more.” The Moshae answers, furrowing her brow, “I am not someone who wants to see a child of any race starve, but keeping the Cluster healthy and free of any unnecessary climate-triggering pollution is a priority of mine."

"The Initiative isn't in the business of unnecessary pollution, Moshae." That much Talis agrees with Addison on, considering the entire endeavor worked rather tirelessly in the Milky Way to keep their carbon emissions under a certain level. It meant at least they wouldn't be dragging the footprint of massive corporations with them to their new home, "We aren't asking for a lot. Not in the grand scheme of things -- if you allow us to colonize portions of Eos and Kadara, and keep our outposts as outreach communities that could grow into Ports over time, you would have little reason to worry. Our trade will benefit you just as much as it will our people."

"There is not much you could be trading that we do not already have ourselves. And there still lingers the problem of your outcasts -- who you've allied with for the time being? You can blame them for our supplies becoming more of an issue." Talis actually does shrink under the Moshae's concerned gaze when she speaks again. While Reyes has more unorthodox methods than his predecessor, it would still be remiss not to mention the damage the exiles had already done by effectively pushing the Angara back off another planet, regardless of their criminal status. That was one of the few things she was just unable to do much about herself, especially with so many facts missing when she'd landed.

Though this is one of the first times that Talis is hearing the Exiles may be directly interfering with the Angara’s supplies outside of Kadara. She scribbles down a note for herself on her datapad. Something told her that Reyes might know more than he was letting on.

"Not officially, but the exiles that have accepted help from us again shouldn't continue to be a problem on Kadara -- we have a presence there now," Kandros responds. His subvocals drop deeper, "Those causing you problems are no allies of ours."

"You bring these unknowns, and with no offense to our Pathfinder Ryder, who has done the best with what she has, your Initiative has yet to bring anything but turmoil. Uncertainty. We thank you for your efforts and the hope Ryder's team brought us as a cluster, but we implore you to step back for long enough that the Angara can thrive again -- on our own terms.” The entire conference table silences at this, the elder Angara's words punctuated with an air of finality. Addison leans back in her chair, hands folded in front of her while Tann finally takes a seat. The Moshae seems some semblance of satisfied, and collects her datapad under an arm, "If that is all, I will be on my way."

"Of course, Moshae. We appreciate the time you took to meet us here," Kesh responds in kind, tone softening some. The Moshae appreciates it, evident in the small smile that crosses her features. If there was anything Talis could depend on here, it was that Kesh was willing to do her best to make sure the Angara felt welcome. Even if that went directly against her better interests as superintendent.

The others could learn a lesson or two from her.

"And Ryder?" Talis lifts her head to look over her shoulder at the retreating woman, "I'd like to speak to you about an issue after your meeting. Find me in my office later."

"Will do." Talis nods, and the door slides closed behind her. She's itching to leave and follow her right at this very second, anything to get out of the stuffy conference room and get back to work, but the way Tann is looking at her says she's nowhere near getting to leave early. She doesn't need to be here for the rehashing and debrief of a meeting she was already in. And if he really had an issue, he could go to any of the other three pathfinders currently present to take care of it.

She sighs, crossing her legs underneath her and flickering her datapad off. Talis sharply turns to Tann, setting her jaw, "You know better than anyone we have to cut back on how many people we're waking, Tann. Are you really about to drive off our own allies out here because you can't stop building for two seconds?"

Talis thinks she sees his eye twitch, "We didn't come out here to be told that we have to bend to someone else. We've tried being diplomatic, and as time passes, we're denied at every turn it seems. We need the resources, we're just getting on our own two feet out here."

"Those resources belong to the Angara. Your plans are outdated. This isn't the Milky Way."

"That's the exact reason we need to continue on course. We've been relying on stores from the Milky Way since the Nexus uprising." Addison answers, her response cold, "The colonies are just now able to begin producing useful and valuable materials, but we have no economy. The Angara do, but trade agreements are slow to come in. Credits are good on the Nexus and not for much else other than whatever it is that the Vortex sells. People need a sense of normalcy, and normalcy isn't going to come if we have to wait longer and longer on our cities."

"We're not going to get normalcy, we're in a completely new galaxy, Director," Talis bites back, frustrated. Normalcy would’ve been her father being here instead of her, normalcy likely would’ve been settling Habitat 7, normalcy would’ve likely been them not having to have dealt with the Kett or Angara at all. And yet here they were, "We're guests here right now. If we weren't prepared to not be the first ones here, if we weren't prepared to run into roadblocks, run into problems with supply chains, even have problems with settling completely new ecosystems, then what was it all for, Addison?"

The woman across from her presses her lips into a thin line, not meeting her eyes. She knew Addison still had some lingering guilt over the Nexus uprising, still had problems trying to rationalize all of her choices away and coming to terms with the ones she had already made. Talis gestures across the table, "What did we lose so many of our Krogan citizens for, huh? Every one of us at this table risked our lives to get here to Andromeda, and every one of us risked everything to beat out the Archon. And we didn't just do that for ourselves -- we did it for the cluster. And that cluster includes the Angara, whether you all like it or not."

"Those plans are drenched in blood," Raeka adds, "As soon as every Ark and the Nexus hit the Scourge, we weren't working on six hundred year old plans anymore."

"We aren't coming from a place of malice, Ryder," Kesh's softer tone acts as a counterbalance to the rest of leadership, "I understand better than anyone what it feels like to have someone else come in on your home uninvited. That's why I would be willing to slow production, slow waking waves until the Angara are ready for us. But --"

"There will always be people depending on us to feed and home them. Not just our people on the Nexus, but everyone you opened up homes to across the cluster. Whether it harms relations for now or not, we can't leave those settlers out to dry. We cannot have another uprising on the Nexus, or add to the Exiles numbers because we have unsatisfied citizens," Tann's expression hardens, and Kesh visibly winces at this when he interrupts her, "We'll continue forward with a modified plan that will hopefully meet the Moshae's request for it to be less resource-intensive, but we will have to shoulder the outward facing consequences until she allows us into more of the cluster."

Consequences. Talis relaxes marginally, that she could deal with. They didn't need to be fighting a battle on multiple fronts anymore. Dealing with angry citizens wasn't exactly in her job description, but what was anymore? Earning the Angara's trust and respect was priority number one for now. If that meant dealing out rations to every settlement for a few months, then so be it. They had enough to make it happen — and they really needed to make it happen.

"Sounds like that's a meeting adjourned then. Rix, I need you in APEX operations later this afternoon. Raeka, same with you, we need to discuss your Pathfinder team assignments." Kandros is already standing from his seat, making a beeline for the door. She could always rely on the Turian to usually have good interests in mind, and also keep himself out of most arguments the best he could. She'd have to check in with him later as well, see what they could do about getting scout teams out into the undiscovered regions of Meridian.

The other leaders file out of the room as quietly and disgruntled as they'd come in earlier. Kesh briefly puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing as she walks by. She appreciates the vote of confidence almost, knowing the Krogan was doing her best to support the Initiative and keep from making waves. She'd have to speak with the superintendent as well about supply chain issues to Voeld and Kadara soon. She hadn't thought it was so dire until she'd actually looked over reports from herself and Addison. She hadn't exactly turned a blind eye, but she wouldn't lie and say it hadn't slipped her mind in between getting out of the medbay and working on smaller projects.

Rations indeed.

With the room empty, every pathfinder next to her settles back into their chairs. Leadership seemed to always activate the professional in all of them, but outside of official meetings, it was significantly more casual. Various expressions of relaxing or stretching spread across them as Vederia gets up to lean her forearms on the top of her chair. She turns to Talis, scrunching her face up into an expression of distaste, worry flowing underneath it, "Do you really think it's such a good idea to work against leadership so much, Ryder? They don't exactly seem happy with you right now."

"They're less mad at me, and more mad at the fact they're not getting what they want right now. I’m just happening to stand in the way, because a lot of the little things matter, and I don’t want them bulldozing over the Angara either," She answers, flickering her datapad on to search in her documents from this quarter's report. She sucks her teeth, almost all in the red. Not that it deviated much from last quarter, but still not great news, "I'm not sure which is worse for me."

"Still...a lot of people are counting on us to do -- something. They're not wrong that waiting much longer will probably cause us more unrest. We're supposed to be pathfinding, and right now we're not doing anything useful," Vedaria remarks, "We came off the arks and then now we're still waiting. They don’t really have crops or food yet, everything is flash-frozen from the Milky Way. Nothing’s stable yet. I mean, what about you, Raeka? A lot of your people are still in stasis, and so are mine. The people that are out are getting restless about their families."

Raeka hums as a response, opening her omni-tool to type away on her forearm. Her dark eyes give little away when she turns to the Asari, "That's part of being a pathfinder, Damali. Part of being part of any leadership. You were a commando once, sometimes you have to make the hard decisions to stop from causing more little fires everywhere else. We wake more people, we set fires. We wait, we’re able to work on putting out a few through trade contracts with the Angara."

"Not like life out here is much better. Besides the glitz and glamour of being in Andromeda, we don’t exactly have a lot to offer right now for people waking up," Avitus's mandibles flare gently at the comment, flexing his fingers out in front of him, "We can't solve one problem without creating more. But leadership think it's worth creating more problems to get rid of the main one right now. Addison's right, more people means a better functioning economy for everyone."

“The economy means nothing if we can’t build anywhere for them to live.” Raeka says.

"And the Moshae's in our way right now," Vedaria gestures with her hands. Her expression dulls before she raises a brow, "Why doesn't she want us on Voeld anyway? Seems like it being as freezing as it is, they'd want to be anywhere but."

"Well, most if not all the worlds originally belonged to the Angara. It's why we're not settling Havarl or Aya -- those are their homeworlds. Voeld was a massive colony before the scourge hit it. They're still finding artifacts there from centuries ago," Talis stands from her own chair, groaning as she rolls her shoulder. It cracks audibly, "So was Kadara, but that and Elaaden were settled before we woke up. The Moshae already doesn't want us on Kadara but she's giving us special privilege there because they need help clearing out the Exiles."

Vedaria considers this, "So we have what, three worlds and the asteroid field to colonize freely? In theory it's not so bad, but the fact those worlds only really have small areas where the vaults have cleared up their respective problems..."

"It's probably closer to one world. Eos is the only world a lot of us can survive on, and we only really have so much built out there already. Whenever we adapt to whatever the Krogan have going on, we earn another planet," The sarcastic tone of the Turian at least makes her chuckle while he fiddles with the collar of his uniform. His smile is dim but genuine, knocking Vedaria on the shoulder gently, "Still, we can't moan and whine like everyone else is. Best thing we can do is handle the problems the Moshae mentioned. Clearing out the more violent exiles might earn us some more land."

"I'm assembling a smaller pathfinder team myself, I'm planning to head out and see what I can do about them. I would like your help, Ryder," Raeka nods to her, pushing herself away from the conference table and standing. She collects her things methodically, swinging her back over her shoulder, "You seem to know a good deal about the Charlatan. If you can get him talking, it might help us map the movements of the Exiles not allied with him."

Talis nods, "Mayor Tate's probably going to need help on that front. Ditaeon could use the support, I'll see about his monthly report soon."

"That'd be best," Raeka looks past Talis, "Rix, has Kandros said anything on what the timeline of getting APEX teams out onto Meridian is looking like?"

"All I've heard is soon. Think a lot of teams have been assigned out to Elaaden or helping with the Roekaar...or still dealing with pockets of Kett everywhere. We're just too thin to spare anyone right now." He answers, making similar moves to pack up his own materials, "With Ryder's team already out and completing operations, it wasn't exactly priority number one to get my Pathfinder team up and operational. Especially with my ark scattered out into spirits knows where."

"Then you and Damali should see about your respective arks waking your teams, or creating new ones. Surely you both can get a foothold on discovering what Meridian has in store for us," Her towering figure is commanding enough that all Talis can do is nod in response, "I'll let you know when I have something to go on Ryder."

"Same here."

And with that, the conference room is left empty. Vedaria shuffles out last, the door sliding closed behind her before Talis checks her omni-tools messaging system, taking a sip from her cold coffee. Bitter.

Three from her brother, asking after her for their lunch appointment tomorrow. She’d almost forgotten, having to see if Harry would finally clear him for active duty with the Pathfinder team before the Tempest took off again. Updates from Gil and Kallo on the Tempest retrofits. It seems neither of them were happy to be having others in the ships engines -- she's glad they can relate on something. A few from Vetra on procuring supplies for the crew, at that she shoots back a message to see if she could find any Piattos with some of the new defrosted shipments. Peebee has forwarded quite a few new documents on findings from Meridian. She saves those into her personal drive to read later in the evening. The few paragraphs she skims over look terribly interesting, something she’ll probably stay up later than is healthy poring over.

A few from Jaal, one correcting himself once he remembered she was in a meeting for the afternoon. She smiles at the soft greetings. It wasn’t enough to completely balm over her struggles from her earlier conversations, but it was nice to remember someone was in her corner.

Turning towards the massive bay window displaying the galaxy beyond her, Talis sighs. Distant stars twinkle back at her, and the long unfinished arms of the Nexus great her like a cold hello. With all the work she had done, it still felt like she was taking her first bumbling steps into Andromeda. And yet, they were more than a year and a half in. One problem had been fixed, but more were on the horizon. These were the ones she wasn’t trained for. She wasn’t trained to fix supply issues that couldn’t be ended with an operation out to a distant station. She wasn’t trained to play diplomat, and certainly wasn’t trained to deal with the politics of situations either. But now she had to, and she’s waffling over them.

Talis hesitates, wondering what her father would’ve done. Then, wondering what her brilliant mother would have done. She comes up empty. Unsure. All she knows is that they would’ve done a better job than her.

Turning over her shoulder, she runs a hand through her hair as she leaves the council chambers. They still had a long way to go.

#oc: talis ryder #oc #original character #verse: so much (for) stardust #mass effect andromeda #my writing #HOLY #this is a tank at 6k words #good night everybody lmao

6 notes · View notes