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If pressed, Shepard would not say that she disliked sitting down to watch a vid, but she would also be lying if she wasn't looking forward to catching a biotiball game more. Sports were simply more exciting: entirely unscripted outcomes, determined entirely by the skill of the participants.
Fleet and Flotilla was serviceable as a romantic tragedy--again, not really her thing, but fine. The singing surprised her, though. Not something one expects from a predominantly Turian cast. It begged the question of “how does something like this get made,” but Shepard figured that she would get more of an answer than she really cared for if she asked Tali right now. She was clearly very happy to have watched Fleet and Flotilla with her, and even if Fleet and Flotilla was never going to be Shepard's new favorite thing, that's what mattered. God knows they could use a little light in this damn war every now and again.
Tali was in the middle of elaborating on some celebrity trivia when the soft chime of the door unsealing announced Garrus' arrival.
“Thinking maybe we should get a DNA-coded lock on that thing to be more secure,” he said, sidling into the apartment with a bulging bag that sounded faintly of clanking glass whenever he shifted his weight.
“Vetoed,” Tali stood from her seat at the couch. “I'm not risking an infection or asking for a chaperone every time I need to use the front door.”
“Retinal scanner, then?”
“I'd still have to pop my helmet open, and even then you should know that those don't work for Quarians. Our tapetum lucidum interferes with the scanners. It's like you don't even know my biology.”
“Not what you said last night,” Garrus quipped while proceeding toward the bar.
“Okay, enough,” Shepard said cooly, getting to her feet. “Garrus, I think the current security system is sufficient for our needs.”
“Just being practical,” he replied, pulling various bottles from the bag and arranging them in the side of the bar that they had designated as dextro-only. “Seeing as you're throwing a big party here soon, and all.”
“We'll be having Krogan house guests. I think it's a problem that will solve itself.”
“Fair,” Garrus said, sliding the last bottle of liquor into place. “So. What were you two up to? Getting ready for the show tonight?”
“What show?” Tali appeared at Shepard's side, hooking her elbow around hers.
“Fleet and Flotilla live at Armax? You know, the 'immersive experience' thing they do? I heard the end credits when I walked in so I figured—”
“—The what?!” Tali pulled away from Shepard and advanced on Garrus. “How could you not tell me about this before?!”
“Because I thought you knew!”
Tali furiously tapped away at her omnitool and swore so creatively that Shepard's translator gave up on interpreting Khelish.
“Sold out! And tonight's the final showing before we ship out! ” Tali turned toward Shepard. “How could you miss this? Aren't you on their mailing list?”
“I have a VI filter my inbox,” Shepard replied with a shrug. “It must have been labelled spam. I'm sorry. If I knew, we could have gotten tickets.”
Assuring someone that you would have done something you probably would not have if given the option is one of life's sweeter benign lies. Shepard smiled apologetically, awash with the relief that comes with a bullet dodged.
“No no no no no no, there has to be a way. I am not learning about the Fleet and Flotilla Live Immersive experience and then dying in a war having never seen it. I'm calling Liara.”
Shepard shot Garrus a look. Garrus only shook his head and shrugged. Meanwhile, Tali wound her way upstairs, telling Liara that her resources were needed for a situation of the utmost importance.
“Hope you like singing, Shepard,” Garrus chuckled.
“Don't think you're getting out of this,” Shepard hissed back in a loud whisper. “She's your girlfriend too.”
The battle over “who will go with Tali to the show tonight” was one well lost before it could even begin--they were both going, and they knew it, because their girl doesn't take 'no' for an answer--so Shepard joined Garrus in a glass of something hard that burned as it went down while Tali plied the Shadow Broker for a favor.
***
Fleet and Flotilla soundtrack was playing faintly in the air when Liara arrived at the apartment a standard hour later. Shepard waved her in, and Glyph quite proudly and uselessly announced that “Dr. T'Soni would see them now” as it bobbled in the air before her.
“Did you know that one of my business fronts handles scalping event tickets on the Citadel?” She asked, arranging herself neatly on the couch.
“I was surprised myself,” she continued. “The truth is that I was barely able to scratch the surface of the Shadow Broker's operations before Cerberus came for us on Hagalaz.”
Shepard leaned against a wall. “So ... that means it didn't put you out, right?”
By which, of course, she meant “please God do not let this be expensive.”
“Yes and no. The Shadow Broker paid an agent to buy and retrieve three entry bands from the scalper. They were then passed to another agent who works at a Salarian takeout restaurant. A takeout order with them concealed inside was then sent to me.”
She reached into a pocket and produced three blue silicone rubber arm bands.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized. “I washed all the sauce off, and they work perfectly, but they still smell like Jaëto curry.”
Garrus, Shepard, and Tali each took an armband from Liara.
“So what do they do?” Tali asked.
“There's a microchip inside that's keyed to the level of access the bands grant. You should be getting a collectible playbook, a hundred credit line at the bar, and front row accomodations in the singing section.”
“The what?” the words fumbled out of Shepard's mouth, drowned out by Tali's exuberant shriek of joy and Garrus' rising laughter. Liara responded only with a knowing smile.
Oh no, Shepard realized. This was fun for her.
“Oh I can't wait to hear this,” Garrus drawled in her ear. Tali dove onto the couch to give Liara an enormous hug.
Die. She was going to die. Commander Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, Bane of the Collectors, was going to die. Death by public singing.
“Come on dearest,” Garrus said, tugging her by the wrist in the direction of the bedroom. “Time to make ourselves presentable to the public.”
***
Armax Arena was unrecognizable as a battle-ready combat sim. Seats had been hauled in and arranged; the topography of the arena itself was now completely flat. Shepard noted with increasing alarm that they were seated in an area that was quite obviously meant to easily feed onto the stage.
Tali gripped her hand. “I'm so excited,” she said for the umpteenth time since leaving the apartment. That cut the dread, if only a little bit.
“I know,” Shepard said warmly, and squeezed her hand back. The lights dimmed, the music swelled, and the show began.
It was not as mortifying as Shepard thought—at least not in concept. Randomized groups were assigned songs that they would be brought onstage to sing along to; the armband paired with the wearer's omnitool to give them their assignment and approximate queue time.
Tali and Garrus got the big climatic love ballad. Shepard got “I Will Sell You a Skycar Named Desire,” a short piece (great) sung by the comedic side character, a Volus named Balli Bon (less great). Shepard stammered her way through it--humming the melody, mostly. But when she moved to step down from the stage, the spotlight caught her and the emcee asked the crowd to lend their very special guest, Commander Shepard, a big round of applause.
Shepard smiled and waved, squinting in the bright lights, and silently cursed Liara.
When her time came, Tali fully committed to the ballad, going so far as to fall into Garrus' arms at the end of it. She even got a laugh out of the crowd by insisting that Garrus carry her offstage as well. It was strange, but cute, to see Tali so fully engaged in her element. When she met her three years ago, Shepard wouldn't have pegged Tali for a crowd pleaser. Not that Tali was ever shy or soft-spoken, but if Shepard had to put words to it, it was a realization that she only knew her friends and her crew as they were under the most dire of circumstances. She seldom had the chance to see them be ... normal? Happy? Free? Something that lived between those?
Shepard continued to ponder this as the three of them sat in the back of a sky cab en route to Anderson's apartment. Tali splayed across her and Garrus' laps, humming happily to herself.
“So. I know how our girl felt about all that, but what about you, Garrus?”
“Me? I got free drinks, free entertainment, and now I've got a cute Quarian passing out in my lap as we speak. I had a great time. You?”
“You didn't hate singing?”
“They didn't mic me up."
"Which is good," Tali interjected. "He has such a beautiful speaking voice, but his singing leaves a lot to be desired."
"Yeah, but I'm cute so it doesn't matter," Garrus insisted.
"Hmmm ... I wouldn't say cute," Tali teased.
"You're such a brat," Garrus chuckled. "And I like that. Anyway, Shepard--you didn't like the show, then?”
If Shepard wasn't already looking at Tali's helmet, she would have felt her glare on her anyway.
“I didn't say that,” Shepard said, idly squeezing Tali's thigh. She thought of the crowd, united in song, the unabashed spectacle hanging in the air. The people who have stuck by her most, the people she loved in ways she couldn't have imagined three years ago, happy in a way she could never manage on her own.
“It was great, actually,” she said.