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Already, Tali loved the Normandy.
After everything—running, and hiding, and losing Keenah—she'd had just enough time on the Citadel to begin to feel homesick. Trailing Shepard to the Citadel Tower, she'd peered through the crowd and seen none of her own people. And the station had a noise to it, a pulse, but it was nothing like the sound of the Flotilla, all the subtle clunks and clanks and hisses that marked the ships' ages. She'd felt very much the intruder, walking through the belly of a beast so great that it didn't notice her at all.
But the Normandy abated that, somewhat. It certainly didn't have the same weathering as the Flotilla, but there was still something about it. Maybe it was just that she was allowed to know the ship—that rather than cast her back into the cargo hold, Adams had given her an impromptu tour and talked enthusiastically with her for a while before going back to his duties.
"Surprised you're still up," Shepard's voice said from somewhere behind her.
Tali couldn't help that she flinched a little, startled by Shepard's sudden appearance. She hoped that Shepard was still feeling benevolent. It was hard to tell by her voice alone; Tali didn't have a lot of experience with humans.
She'd expected to have to beg to be allowed to come along. Not on her knees, maybe, but she'd been sure that Shepard would want more proof of her abilities, evidence that she would be an asset, not a liability. That was how others viewed her people: an undue strain on even a multispecies crew, needy. She'd expected to have to prove that the extra resources they'd spend on her would be worth it.
But after the hearing, she'd understood. Shepard was short on allies. She couldn't afford to turn away help, from any quarter.
"My day-night cycle is still messed up from the Citadel, I guess," Tali said, closing out of the diagnostic she'd been examining.
"Which part?" Shepard asked, stepping up to the console alongside her, but she didn't look at Tali or try to scrutinize what she'd been working on; she gazed up at the drive core instead, the soft blue light playing across her strange, alien face. "The running and hiding and being shot at, or the general city-that-never-sleeps atmosphere?"
"It wasn't so much being shot at," Tali said, deflecting. She didn't want to look like too much of a troublemaker. "You saw the worst of it." This was technically untrue, given that she'd gotten shot before the encounter with Fist, not during, but she hoped Shepard just wouldn't remember.
"You're all right?" Shepard asked. "I know you said the Fleet gives you resources to help you survive out here, but I can't imagine they spend a long time instructing their young people on how to treat gunshot wounds."
The apparent concern was nice, but Tali just said, "You'd be surprised."
Shepard looked at her sidelong, some crease in her forehead deepening. "That's…" She paused, lips pressed into a thin line. "Troubling."
"The galaxy is a dangerous place. You don't need me to tell you that. And there aren't so many doctors who know how to treat a quarian properly, without making it worse, that we can go without learning."
Shepard's mouth went even thinner. "Well," she said, "Dr. Chakwas is qualified. I checked with her when you decided to come aboard. Not that I don't trust your handiwork, but if you want another eye, she's the best."
There'd been another response at the tip of Tali's tongue. Ready to insist that she wouldn't bother the ship's doctor with anything. But Shepard wasn't worried about that, apparently.
Tali had thought that Shepard couldn't turn away help, but she hadn't thought that Shepard would spend extra time looking after that help.
"Thanks," Tali said, awkwardly, unsure how else to respond.
Shepard shrugged one shoulder. "I've been shot at a lot lately. Can't help but think it's going to continue. Since you're standing next to me, best be prepared."
"I usually prefer to stand behind cover," Tali said.
Shepard smiled wide. "Hah! That a critique of my positioning? There were only so many places to stand in that damn alley."
It was a little hard to tell, smiles could mean so many things, but there was a...warmth, to Shepard's voice. A cheeriness. Tali guessed that she was joking, and hoped she was right.
"No, I'm sure an N7 knows what she's doing," she replied.
Shepard laughed; Tali had guessed right. "Glad someone on this ship believes that," Shepard said.
Tali didn't push her luck any farther, staying quiet. Shepard looked back up at the drive core; the mirth had softened her face a little, smoothing out the lines and creases. She looked a little younger, suddenly, than she had.
"Truth is," she said suddenly, letting out the words like a sigh, "we're venturing into the unknown. Does anyone know what they're doing, in those circumstances? No. You just have to prepare, as much as the galaxy lets you, and then you take your shot."
It didn't seem like Shepard was talking to Tali anymore, not really. More like she was restating a truth to herself, reaffirming it.
"So it's not the aftereffects of the Citadel's city-that-never-sleeps atmosphere keeping you up?" Tali asked. "You're making preparations?"
Shepard shook her head; when she spoke again, she seemed more present. "Nah. Sometimes I just like to come down here and look at the ship at night, while Adams isn't around to talk my ear off. I appreciate that the Normandy is a technological marvel, state-of-the-art, cutting-edge, but when he gets into the technical details I start to fall asleep on my feet. I just don't have the mind for it."
"It is an incredible ship," Tali said, with feeling. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Sometimes I wish I could understand it like Adams does. Like you probably do. But there's magic in that gap, you know? In the unknown. Ashley has her god. I have this."
Tali thought to tell her that there was still magic, even when you saw clearly how all the pieces fitted together; there was magic in it because once you understood, you could not believe how all these disparate parts managed to carry a machine, make it whole, make it live. But she did not want to talk Shepard's ear off, like Adams did, and risk making a nuisance of herself when Shepard had been so accommodating, so she stayed quiet, silently taking note that Shepard was a person aware of her own weaknesses, that she put other people on her team to make sense of that gap instead of leaving it shrouded in mystery.
"I won't keep you," Shepard said, pushing back from the console. "But if you need anything, don't be shy. Let me know. Special pillow, sleeping pod...whatever. I know we're not exactly outfitted for your people."
"I can make do."
"That's what I'm saying. You don't have to." Shepard started off for the cargo hold. "Good night, Tali."
"Good night," Tali said, watching Shepard go.
She'd wanted in on this mission. No hesitation. But she'd been braced for something...different. For Shepard to be someone different. Someone more like the people who, in their prejudice and ignorance, had gotten Keenah killed.
She was still braced. Just in case. But she was beginning to like Shepard.