Epilogue for Tali Zora

Talie Zora slipped discreetly into the ruins of London, trying to blend into the shadows as much as possible and only lighting a poor lantern when absolutely necessary. The place was not safe for the Quarians and all her relatives had tried to dissuade her from undertaking this journey. But she was determined.

As she progressed, she wondered what Shepard would have thought of all this. He was the most pragmatic man she had ever met. He would no doubt have told her she was an idiot for risking her life for something so futile. That she was no longer a young adventurer without ties roaming the galaxy. That she had responsibilities and needed to assume them. Whatever the situation, he systematically set aside his morals or the feelings of others. Only victory and survival mattered to him. Because of this, many criticized him and considered him an insensitive man.

Talie Zora could not blame them. Towards the end, even she was chilled by that characteristic look of a man who had seen and done too much. But Talie Zora had known him intimately and she knew that it was only a facade he was finding increasingly difficult to maintain.

But she interrupted her thoughts when a suspicious movement occurred to her right. For a moment, panic seized her. Fortunately, it was not a Krogan, but an animal grazing in one of the many patches of greenery thriving in these abandoned ruins. Upon examination, she discovered with astonishment that it was a buffalo. She briefly wondered what this animal was doing on this continent. It was like her and all the aliens stranded on this planet since an intense red light had destroyed the Reapers and all technology.

Talie nostalgically remembered that brief period of euphoria and optimism that followed the end of the war. At that time, the survivors had plans to create a utopian community where all races would live side by side.

In any case, they had no choice, as it would probably take decades (or even centuries) to rebuild a fleet and the cosmodesic relays.

But very quickly, more practical questions had arisen on the agenda. Like finding a way to feed those who could not eat Earth food, such as the very numerous (and armed) Turians.

After much research, a very resource-intensive process was developed to convert Earth food into nutrients absorbable by an organism whose homeostasis relied on dextro-amino acids. A process too costly for the extremely limited resources that this heavily urbanized planet could provide, and whose ecosystem was still struggling to recover from the excesses of the last century. Very quickly, they had to face the fact that without technology, this planet could not feed the billion soldiers of all races who had gathered during the final battle to defeat the harvesters. There was barely enough to feed the millions of humans who had survived the harvesters' concentration camps.

And the old quarrels had resurfaced. The Krogans, having discovered that they had been lied to about the genophage, saw no reason why they should sacrifice themselves for the council races and their desire for revenge against the Turians was great. But it was not the Turians, but the Quarians they attacked first.

Following the destruction of all technology, the Quarians had to remove their suits, whose respirators were now unusable. Thus, since the beginning of the conflict, the members of their race were slowly dying from the assault of viruses and consuming a significant amount of medical resources that were impossible to replenish without advanced technology. And despite everything, their chance of survival was almost nil. For the Krogans, it was not only a waste of resources but also therapeutic obstinacy. Any Krogan would have preferred to die rather than be kept alive in such a state of weakness. For the Turians, on the contrary, the Quarians were brothers in arms, and honor dictated doing everything possible to give them a chance to survive. It was under this pretext that the first clashes began.

Very quickly, she was the last Quarian still alive. Her numerous very intimate interactions with Shepard had undoubtedly allowed her to acquire some immune defense against Earth viruses. But the confrontations did not stop for all that. Each race now lived in fortified camps far from each other, except for the Krogan who had emerged largely victorious from the battles and had been able to claim vast territories to which they denied access to other races (which included the ruins of London and its very lucrative recycling factories).

She finally reached her goal. A grand funerary monument erected at the place where her body was found.

She took some time to collect herself, but hurried to take what she had come for. She went behind the monument and opened a secret drawer using a cleverly hidden mechanism. And to her great satisfaction, she found that what she had been told was true.

At that place were the personal belongings that Shepard had on him at the time of his death. For the Krogan, what a great warrior carried at the time of his death were sacred relics, and it had not surprised her to hear that they had thus preserved these objects. What had surprised her and motivated this trip was the rumor that there was a portrait of her there. However, there was only one portrait of her in the entire galaxy: the one he had painted during one of the too rare moments of intimacy that the war had allowed them.

Thus, he had really loved her. She was not just a passing fling like Jack had been before the start of the war. She stared at the portrait and recalled that evening he had spent painting her, complimenting her on her hypnotic gaze that reminded him of a cat's. To tease her, when they were often alone, he would often call her "my Siamese."

After a final sigh, she put the portrait back in place and left, hoping that no one would ever find out about this little escapade.