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“954… 955… 956…” Blood flowed through her veins, muscles flexing rhythmically with every pushup that she performed. The exercise in itself had already become as mundane as fixing a broken pipeline on some old quarian freighter. It was just… so easy. Barely a challenge whatsoever. Not while the stupendous amount of striations of her musculature deepened whenever she pushed herself up. Tali let out a slow breath before lowering herself again, and glanced at her helmet’s HUD. Still no new notification. “957…” Her voice came out husky, yet there was no sign of any strenuous effort whatsoever. In the past, her quarian drill instructors would have forced her to do as many pushups as possible, even if she faltered after a few dozen, like any other pilgrim-in-training. Going out on an adventure through the galaxy didn’t come without risk. Hence why each young quarian at least knew how to defend themselves; be it with a gun or knife. But learning those skills required training – physical