"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."

The old quarian proverb, to always come back to the Migrant Fleet, no matter what, no matter where the path laid, the Flotilla is always the home.

"But what if I don't want to return now...?"

What if the open stars are too beautiful to resist...?

"No. What am I thinking..."

The quarian sighs, the sound robotic coming through the filters and voice modulators of the helmet. Tali'Zorah talks to herself often, quarians do that in general, they are very social, takes a lot to not go mad trapped in an envirosuit your whole life.

Tali's eyes glow, bioluminescent, behind the toned glass of the mask, like two stars of their own, she stands alone on the Observation Deck, staring out into space. It is beautiful. It is also peaceful here... ironic, the Normandy is probably the most chaotic ship in the galaxy, and yet it feels safe here, feels like home.

"Keelah..."

'Homeworld.' What is it, 'Keelah'? Rannoch, the planet lost 300 years ago? The Fleet? Or... Normandy?

Zorah sighs, shifting from one leg to the other, gazing into the far stars, thinking. Tali rarely gets out from her little 'habitat' on the Engine Deck, always a problem to fix, always something to upgrade, rarely a chance to just... think.

'I still can't get used to how quiet it is...'

The Normandy is quiet, compared to the quarian ships she is silent... it is still a bit unnerving, yet she feels so... familiar now, like a second home, like where Tali belongs.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy..." Quarian muses to herself. "sounds nice..."

It does sound nice.

Ah, Normandy, damn you, you are so quiet, you actually allow one to reflect... Tali chuckles at the thought, even though it isn't seen through the mask, she smiles.

Tap-tap-tap - her three-fingered hands tap on the railing, as Tali shifts her weight again, almost dancing. Helps to think.