Author's Note: First: Please leave comments, reviews, whatever. I live off that stuff. Secondly: It has been a *long* time since I've written anything to publishing quality... We will see how this goes. Third: The Character/Romance tags are deserved. I won't go into details, but... yeah. This is looking to be a 8-9 Chapter work, so give it time. Thanks for reading! (Again, leave reviews!)

Chapter One: Martyr

"Forsan miseros meliora sequentur..."

(For those in misery, perhaps better things come after...)

~Virgil of Rome

The alley was dark, the electricity for this district of Omega being long dead. A perfect place to hide. And it was in this alley, coated in a fine layer of trash and debris, that the fugitive chose to turn into. She was limping badly, her left leg unresponsive, broken bones grinding with every step. Her breathing also showed problems, with inhalation coming only after repeated fits of coughing. Not that the fugitive was unaware of this. Checking her omnitool, the array of flashing red lights told her what her body was quite obviously alluding to:

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was dying.

Retaining consciousness was also becoming a problem. The men who had been searching for her seemed to have given up, but blacking out would have only augmented her problems, for she was quite certain she would not wake back up. A hunk of steel, laying in that alley undisturbed for the last half century was about to put that hypothesis to the test.

Actually seeing that steel was the problem, for condensation from her labored breathing was building on her suit's visor, as available power was prioritized towards keeping suit integrity and her vital organs functioning. Combined with the crack that branched from the visor's bottom left corner and ran horizontally across her line of sight, and tripping over a large piece of steel in a dark alley was almost inevitable.

So Tali fell. She moved to catch herself on the wall nearest to her, but the two bullets lodged in that shoulder made the reaction time far too slow. Instead, this movement only managed to cause her to fall forward with her shoulder sliding down the entire length of the wall. The self-sealed portions of her suit that had automatically engaged when she had been shot ripped again. The culmination of this was a vivid red slash of her own blood being left on the wall, marking her path of decent in a most morbid way. Upon hitting the floor, her head came down with considerable force, further fissuring the crack in her visor, and breaking off one of the pair of metal protrusions that came off her mask's chin. Without a grunt or cry of pain, Tali passed into unconsciousness.

It felt so good, so pleasant, for the pain she had been experiencing to disappear. A small voice cried for her to wake up, to get moving. But that voice was so small, so distant. She had earned a rest. And with that rest, the events of two days ago came back in surprising detail. Tali could not believe it had taken her so long to finally work up the courage, but Yeoman Chamber's gentle prodding along with the picturesque conclusion to her trial aboard the Migrant Fleet had finally given her the opening, and she had expressed her feelings to Shepard. And it was so, so, wonderful to find out that Shepard felt the same! Then there was that conversation a few hours ago, before Shepard left to go find "Archangel" aboard Omega; it was like lifting a great burden off her chest. As her mind started recalling that particular discussion, things started to fall apart.

Those happy thoughts thus broke off suddenly, a blank slate of white replacing the images she had been enjoying. Unbeknownst to Tali, her suit was registering a change in her heart rhythm. With the fall she had just endured re-ripping her envirosuit, the built-in microcomputer had sealed off what it could, but her Medigel reserves were dry. The bullet wounds, now riddled with brick and metal fragments from the wall, were bleeding profusely. As her heart worked harder and harder to pump lower and lower amounts of blood, it began to become overworked, to the point that the beating was actually starting to slow again. Seeing this, her suit dumped the remaining adrenaline it had in reserve into her bloodstream.

To Tali, this took place during five seconds of the most frightening experience of nothing she had ever experienced. That fear quickly receded as the adrenaline boost returned her heartbeat to something approaching normality, and the memories started again. But instead of just remembering past events, she started living them. Any medical student could tell you that an out of body experience is a bad thing for a dying person to have. But to Tali, it seemed so natural to once again be standing withing the depths of the rebuilt Normandy. She was realigning the power couplings, too focused on her work to hear the elevator arrive on the bottom floor. But when heavy footsteps clanged on metal floorboards, she turned around just in time to see Shepard glance down towards Jack's "cavern" in the ship bowels, before taking a couple more steps to talk to her.

"How is it going down here, Tali?" The Commander asked, glancing over her shoulder to the instrument panel blinking quietly behind her. Height gave him that luxury.

"Just resetting those power couplings... I know Donnelly and Daniels have talked to you about finding some T6-FBAs... right?" She fidgeted a bit, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Why did she go straight to that? Her subconscious chided her; getting those new couplings would not relieve the anxiety she had developed since revealing her feelings for Shepard two days prior.

The Commander chuckled, holding up his hand. "I'm looking, I'm looking. Those things are tough to find, being so old. And I'm busy. Don't forget Gardner has me on the lookout for new foodstuffs..." He let that trail off. "Or anything that would work for you."

Tali dismissed that with a wave of her three fingered hand. "We are on a Cerberus ship. It doesn't surprise me they lacked any food stores for dextro-amino systems such as mine. You're just lucky Garrus isn't here. He wouldn't be happy." She laughed a bit, remembering her old crewmate. In reality though, the paste usually given out for quarians on pilgrimage she had been living on since coming back aboard the Normandy was in no way construable as an enviable dietary plan.

Shepard smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. The connection felt electric to her. How she wished to actually feel Shepard's skin! "Have you got time to talk?" The seriousness in his voice was unexpected, pushing the surprising pang of lust back under her usually rational mind, which saw the opportunity that Shepard had just planted at her feet.

"Yes, I-I would like that..." She managed, before turning to lead him towards the power core, it's location isolating their conversation from the other engineers. 'This is your chance!' her mind screamed. Upon reaching the end of the walkway, she turned towards Shepard and plunged ahead. Her unfortunate habit of talking a lot during times of duress proved beneficial here. She had to get it out. "I've been thinking about the last time we talked. I'm.. I'm sorry. I was unprofessional, and I wasn't thinking rationally. I was being stupid. And selfish." The last word tasted bad in her mouth.

Shepard brought a hand to his chin, gently stroking a vibrant orange scar in deep thought, that mark being the last visible reminder of his death and rebirth. That thought chilled Tali. She had always had a bit of a crush on him during their fight against Saren. But it had been his death, watching from an escape pod as explosions ripped the old Normandy in two, that had brought the realization that those feelings were not just childish fantasies. That revelation, during his death, had almost killed her. She remembered the weeks after. The presence of a pistol to her temple, the barrel unfelt behind the coating of ablative armor layered on her helmet. But at this range, she knew it wouldn't matter. And then she had brought that pistol down, dropping it into her lap, crying. Not out of fear or happiness, but out of anger. Why hadn't she been able to do it?

"Tali," his voice brought her out of her recollection. He smiled a bit, "you've never been selfish. If anything, you've spent too much time thinking of the Fleet, and not enough time thinking of yourself."

She shook her head, firmly: "That might be true for humans, but quarians are different.. We can't just... We have to think of other people. Always." And it had been that instinctual intuition that had pulled her back from the brink. Her pilgrimage was done. She had a father, a crew, a people that needed her. She had allowed Shepard to fade. When he had reappeared on Freedom's Progress, in Cerberus company none the less, the wall she had built had refused to crumble. She coasted through the rest of the mission, and through life after that. Shepard was alive, but it hadn't felt real to her. On Haestrom, his raw desire to have her back had finally battered through that wall. It wasn't until she had boarded the new Normandy that the sheer enormity of the task she had just undertaken dawned on her. In truth, she was here only for Shepard.

She pushed on with the conversation. "If we don't think about the needs of the whole crew, people could get hurt, even killed." Tali started pacing, the true nature of her fears flowing from her mouth. "You deserve to.." she sighed, "to be happy with someone. I can't do that. No matter how much I...I could get sick. Jeopardize everything." She turned to face the Commander. He had to see it too.

"Are you saying you could die if we were together?" He set a hand on the nearby rail. A concerned look covering his face.

Tali could only shrug. "It's always a risk. I could just get sick, or I could be down for a week, or yes, I could die. I don't know, my... interests have always been so traditional. But that's not what I'm concerned about. I don't want you distracted. I don't want what I want to hurt this mission. It's too important." Could he see it? She wasn't sure. Humans were so egotistic sometimes. To her, it was obvious.

The thoughtful, concerned look hadn't left his face. "And if you weren't jeopardizing anything?"

"If it were just me?" His nod prompted her to go further. "I watched you tear into the Thorian on Feros like a force of nature. Nothing could slow you down. I watched your face as Wrex betrayed you. As you did what you had to. I watched you stand against everything the galaxy could throw at you. I've watched you for so long.. And I never imagined you'd ever see past... this." She touched her face mask, a pained expression painting the face Shepard had never seen.

Shepard took her hands in his, looked straight into her eyes, and in a single sentence reversed the direction of the conversation: "Tali, if you're scared, I don't blame you. But I don't want anybody else. I want you. And I'll do whatever it takes to make it work."

Everything was a blur for her. His words still hadn't registered when she started, "I... I wouldn't blame you, if... but.. Oh." A solitary tear rolled from her silver eyes, their cat-like reflective qualities giving them a distinct, if misleading, glow behind her polarized visor. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! Shepard was supposed to see her reason, to agree to cool their relationship down. But now she was crying? And then the solution hit her. Shepard had considered these problems too. And just like the Thorian, just like Wrex, and just like Saren, he had gotten past them. Before, he had done it for the galaxy, or perhaps a sense of duty. But now... Now he was doing this for her. Solely... for her. She was nearly speechless. Shepard's concerned look finally lifted as Tali found the words to respond.

"T-Thank you. You don't know what that... thank you." Shepard moved forward, embracing her in arms. He said nothing as tears continued to stream down her face. The suit was removing them as fast as they fell, but if felt so good to cry. After a few minutes, Shepard, still holding her, began speaking again.

"Tali, I will need you to do one thing for me." His voice sounded odd, out of place with the serenity that had enveloped her. She pulled back from his touch, tilting her head in an outward sign of bewilderment.

"And what would that be?" She finally asked.

Shepard stared at her, unblinking. His voice, when he answered, was as hard as she had ever heard it: "I need you to wake up Tali. I need you to wake up."

And the pain came back. With a crescendo of unimaginable torment, Tali shook off the cobwebs of unconsciousness, while simultaneously spurting off a stream of vulgarity that would have made Jack proud. She found herself in a puddle of her own blood, the red liquid having already caked her suit. How long had she been out? The answer, according to her readouts visible on her left arm, was far too long. Blood still streamed from her right shoulder, while her Omnitool reported her suit's on-board battery was dangerously low. No one, however, had found her.

"Shit." She mumbled, suddenly finding herself coughing out a hollow laugh. Shepard had taught her that particular human vulgarity. Minimizing all the emergency displays that continued blinking on her Omnitool, she simultaneously moved cautiously into a rough sitting position. Achieving this only with several sharp gasps as broken bones and tattered muscles fought to announce their displeasure, Tali took in her situation.

'My pursuers must have given up, or they would have made sure I never woke up', she thought, coughing a bit of blood onto her visor in the process. This determination of relative safety, however, brought her back to the end of her pain and drug induced delusion. Everything she could remember about that conversation was correct, except that ending. How had that happened?

This momentary lapse in physical movement almost proved disastrous, as her head abruptly tilted downward, the dangerous stupor of unconsciousness nearly overwhelming her. Although she recovered, a distinct graying of her vision had begun, slowly creeping towards the center of her gaze. Tali realized what this was: her brain was fighting a losing battle against the temptation of "rest". Gritting her teeth, she gave a quick prayer to Keelah, before desperately scrapping her damaged shoulder against the rough brick wall beside her. Tears welled in her eyes, but the pain did succeed in returning clarity to her thought-processes.

With that clarity, Tali moved quickly to contact the Normandy. The poor infrastructure of her current location forced her to use a broad sweep of millions of tightbeam broadcasts. One of them, hopefully, would hit an extranet umbrella, which could then ferry the message to the Normandy, and Shepard. If those hunting her were still close, they would easily pick it up, which had prevented her from doing so previously. She couldn't worry about that now though, for she doubted she would have the endurance to last much longer. After a few seconds of tenacious typing, the message was ready. Sighing in relief, she brought her right hand, after considerable effort, onto the "launch" button.

And nothing happened.

Eyes widening in despair, she noticed a countdown that was impeding the launch. Her suit was consolidating all remaining power so it would have enough to make the broadcast large enough. The countdown was over 10 minutes. She tried overriding the block, but a diagnostics check confirmed her fears: if she didn't wait for her suit to regain enough power, the chances of getting the distress call to the Normandy were too small. She had to wait. With anguish, she leaned her head back in despondent sadness.

As the countdown approached 8 minutes remaining, her vision started to blur again. Mouthing a silent curse, bosh'tet, she once again prepared to grind her damaged shoulder against the wall. But her shoulder did not respond. The acidic taste of fear rose again, almost consuming her. She tried shifting into a different position, but her body was incapable of responding in the way she needed. An attempt to grab the knife holstered on her left leg proved the futility of any further action, for even that small distance was too far to garner anything useful, much less the knife.

And the blackness kept creeping forward, slowly overcoming her vision. It was so terrifying, and yet so comforting, inexorably moving her closer to cognizant oblivion. Letting her head slump to the side, she breathed an apology that no one would hear. "I'm sorry, Shepard." As her Omnitool hit the 6 minute mark, the darkness which she had held at bay finally overcame her. Tali drifted slowly into unconsciousness. The biometric indicators she had minimized recorded everything else.

At 22:19, local time, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy's breathing stopped.

At 22:20, local time, her heart went arrhythmic, before stopping abruptly shortly afterward.

At 22:22, local time, all major brain activity stopped.

At 22:24, the biometrics produced a time stamp, for posterity, of her death.

At 22:25, her suit's internal transmitter fired off nearly three million tightbeam broadcasts in a 360 degree arc, with six of those reaching extranet umbrellas with enough strength to transfer their data packet to the local datahives. These in turn contacted the Normandy. EDI, upon reading the information, informed The Commander within the same minute.

Shepard, along with a small rescue detachment soon left to find Tali. They would arrive, of course, too late.

Continues in Chapter 2: Commitment