[Rannoch] Long Time, No See (Closed)

Gazing at the view before him, Tomaz might have forgiven himself for forgetting that it was supposed to be wasteland. Below him the ground gave way to a rocky ravine, a slow-streamed river winding its way through the rocks at the bottom before giving way to harsh desert sand. At the right time of day, the light would catch the layered rock and produce an amazing array of colors. Every now and then he’d let himself forget that this was where, nearly three-hundred years ago, his forebears had been fighting and dying.

He was at least a day out from the nearest resettlement zone, and had grown accustomed to venturing further every time. The more ground he covered, the more of a chance he might find something, anything, that might give him a hint of a trace of the Ancestors that had lived here for thousands of years before being swept away by the geth. With the records gone, all he had was the stories he’d grown up with. And they’d been rather lacking for exact details.

Today though, his journey was ending here. It was as good a spot as any. He could use a friendly voice as well, he thought as he activated his omnitool. It’d been a while since he’d heard one.

Elsewhere on Rannoch, another quarian reached out to hit the "accept" button that appeared on her console.

Hansa was sitting crosslegged in the middle of a large storage space, grafting fruit-bearing branches onto rootstock. She was surrounded by scrubby plants, with a pile of green sticks on her left. Her suit was was filthy (why was she never presentable when people called?) and she was holding a very wicked-looking knife in one hand (again).

"Broken Ground Botanicals, your source for heritage plant products, Hansa'Tel Nar Rannoch speaking." She sheathed the knife and attempted to knock the dirt off her suit, just in case the person was receiving video.

Appearance had never been one of Tomaz's strong suits back on the Flotilla, and the years on the northern frontier had made it worse. What was left of the cloth that had once covered his suit was fraying, and overall he appeared dusted over. He wasn't going to bat an eye about some dirt when Hansa appeared in the video feed of his omnitool, though the knife did produce a raised eyebrow behind his visor before it was sheathed.

"I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time," he started. "It's Tomaz'Schadl."

He paused, trying to find the right words to say next. "I know it has been a very long time since we've spoken. But it is good to hear a familiar voice again."

"I'm just grafting these samples onto proper rootstock." She made one last effort to knock off the dirt. "Irin was out clearing land with Acapella and they found these growing wild..." She cut herself off, folding her hands behind her back.

"I'm so glad you called. It has been a long time, Tomaz." She tilted her head slightly. "Where are you?"

"The land of my Ancestors," he replied solemnly. "Truth be told, I'm not exactly sure of the proper name for it. There's a resettlement zone they've named Mesadi nearby, but whatever name my Ancestors gave this place has been lost."

Tomaz slowly scanned his omnitool across the view before him. Steep cliffs, the single river cutting across the otherwise harsh desert, and past it all a barren plain that stretched as far as the eye could see. "I think I understand where my Ancestors got their stubbornness from if this is where they chose to live."

"Not much of a walled garden. But they did call it home once."

"Hmmm." Hansa stood up, quickly climbing the stairs to the roof. "It might be not as rough as it looks. If that river has a flood cycle, build some damns and an irrigation system and you could put the land into heavy production, as long as you kept an eye on the salinization of the soil."

"But the system would require constant maintenance, and since it's only purpose was supporting agriculture, the Geth would have pulled the whole thing out." She bit her lip. "It's still beautiful, though."

"We're still in the same place." She opened the door and her camera up, showing a cluster of pre-fab buildings and behind that, rows of small, spindly trees backing onto wild scrub.

"I feel this is one of those times a work tour aboard a Liveship would have been helpful. I spent years perfecting how to get a ship through a relay without ending up halfway through another ship. Not exactly useful or in high demand these days."

He shrugged, adding, "They may have that resettlement zone set up, but it'll probably be years before they do any major expansion. This part of the continent isn't doing any favors in attracting people, outside the scenery."

Tomaz nodded approvingly at the sight Hansa gave him. "You have done well for yourself here. You should be proud of that. You, and your crew."

"Well, maybe. But my parents spent years wondering when I'd study something practical." There was a distinctly wistful tone in her voice. They hadn't survived the war.

"Thank you, Tomaz. We certainly work hard. Any chance we can woo you back to the South? At least for a visit?"

Tomaz did not respond at first. His gaze shifted to the land before him, silently weighing his options.

"I came here when I was finally able to get out of my hospital room. I had grown up on the stories of the heroes and paragons of my Clan. The exact locations lost, but I knew they had lived somewhere in this region. It sounds stupid, but I needed to find some trace of them. Something that proved they existed. Something that proved that they were as the stories told. Something that proves that my Clan is better than..."

He left the rest unsaid. Better than a man who let his Captain, his Crew, and his Clan die around him.

"So far, all I have found are the barely surviving ruins here and there. Nothing that proves it was my Clan. Nothing that can be preserved, to show that their innumerable sacrifices won't be forgotten like so many others. I failed in getting them the vengeance they deserve. But I can keep them from fading away. If I don't, then who will?"

He went quiet for a few more moments, before adding, "Still... it might help to take a respite from the dust and echoes."

"Tomaz. I understand." She wanted to extend sympathy. She wanted it to be simple, and uncomplicated. But she was a conscientious objector and it wasn't simple, or uncomplicated. They'd all gone off to die without her. "You're not giving up yet. But you want to preserve this so the actual people can remember them, right?"

"Come visit the actual people. We have three new babies since last year.

Tomaz nodded. "You're right. A small visit couldn't hurt."

The faintest hint of a smile could be visible behind his visor. "Three? They've certainly been busy. Congratulations for your crew. Most of them have gone through quite a hardship, yes? They deserve some happiness."

"Good. We'll have one of the trailers ready for you, whenever you want to come down."

"Well, two were twins, so I'm not sure if that effects their industriousness at all." She adjusted her scarf. "I don't think many quarians have had a fun few years. But yes. They've suffered more than most."

Tomaz nodded in understanding. Difficult was an understatement in summing up his last few years. "Then they've earned some happiness for now. They deserve it. Truly."

"Thank you for the accommodations, I..." he trailed off, one hand scratching at the side of his helmet absentmindedly. "I hope I don't prove to be too much of a burden while I'm there, I don't want to get in the way of your crew. I do appreciate it though."

"Nonsense, Tomaz. I look forward to seeing you."[/quote]

[color=#45fa82]"Just give me a call a few hours before you get here, and I'll make sure they send a vehicle out so you don't end up waiting at the crossroads. And take care until then."