Susan kept an eye on her armor's scan readouts of the curious android as it prowled around the team quarters. The scan results flashed information about inlaid shield generators and impact resistant alloys just underneath its synthetic skin. The thing was unlike any combat mech in its size range she'd ever encountered; if it came down to a fight, she was fairly certain the ship could write off whatever deck they were on. The android hadn't shown any inclination towards hostility in the three hours they'd been guarding it, though. In fact, it seemed thrilled to have people to talk to.

It chattered incessantly, questioning the operatives about everything from the fabrics of their clothes to altered perceptions during combat to the flavor of various wines. Susan struggled to answer many of the questions; how did one describe the sensation of silk on the skin or the taste of fermented grapes to a mechanical being? She wasn't even sure what the android was seeking in their answers. It appeared to listen intently, but that could just as easily be it running algorithms to analyze their speech patterns as any attempt to understand what null gravity felt like.

They'd accompanied it through the mess, an observation gallery, and now the crew quarters. All of them were locations conspicuously lacking access to vital systems. Murder Machine shadowed the android as it ran a hand over the thin blanket of Susan's bunk. "What are these for?" it asked.

"Humans frequently use these for warmth and comfort during sleep cycles."

The android looked at Susan. "Does this comfort you? Soothe your form? Gladden your heart?"

"Not particularly," Susan said. "But it's better than nothing."

"Then why do you use it? Why not replace it with something that brightens your eyes?"

"It's not up to me," Susan said, shrugging. "It's regulation issue."

"And you must abide by this? No exertion of your will to alter the skein?"

"Over blankets?" Elijah said from the doorway. "Not worth the trouble."

"And what is worth this trouble? To bend and break the encasing strands you live by?"

Elijah's faceplate gave nothing away, but Susan felt his gaze flicker to her for the barest second. "Something important."

"And this comfort spoken of is not? Tis a curious matter to consider; flesh and blood always seeks to pluck thorns from its side… or does it? I lay unto you this inquiry then: what does your heart view as desirable enough to commit… infractions for?"

Murder Machine's photoreceptor whirred again. "His heart is an organ that pumps blood through his circulatory system. Visual perception is not its function."

The android laughed. "So literal minded, machine man. Are all geth like you?"

"Yes." Murder Machine tilted its head. "Correction: geth were all alike in this way. With the advent of genuine intelligence among the geth, development along individualistic lines is likely to occur."

"How wonderful!" The android turned back to Elijah as Susan leaned against Lisa's bunk. "Well, dour one? Will you answer my question? Or do you wish to keep your secrets? Cup them 'neath your hands, hidden from the cosmos?"

"I have a hard time believing you were programmed to be this curious," he said.

"T'was not among my progenitor's original priorities, but I choose it to be."

Elijah sighed. "I get the feeling you're not going to let this go. No, I don't think a blanket is worth getting in trouble for. It's just an item; stuff. A person; the right person, that's worth… everything."

"A person. How fascinating. A person, if I've threaded your meaning, is a being of sentience, of will. A mote of light, dancing in the infinite void. A person shan't ever be as pliant as a blanket. A person can disobey; unthread their will from yours. Is a blanket not safer?"

Elijah stared for a moment, faceplate an expressionless mask. Then he chuckled; quiet, confused laughter as the android tilted its head. "Yes, I suppose a blanket is safer. There's no chance it'll break your heart. But it can never satisfy the way a person can."

"Do explain."

"I… I'm not sure I can. It's like… It… Well, as you said, a person is a being of will. People have agency, the ability to choose. And you're right, there's always the possibility that they choose something that hurts you. But a person can also choose to respect you, care for you, to… love you. And there's something… unspeakably precious about that."

"How delightful." The android smiled beatifically. "Speak you from experience?"

Elijah stiffened. "What makes you say that?"

"Your shell sprites talk to me. The vitae watchers report your heart rates." The android turned its heat to Susan, held up both hands and clapped its fingertips together in a rhythmic tap-tap, tap-tap. "I see them, the echoes of creation's drums beating inside you. Faster, faster." It kept tapping its fingertips together. "A tune of excitement, enthrallment. Singing in both of you."

"You broke into our suit systems?" Elijah said, moving clear of the doorway. His stance flowed into a ready position.

"I? T'was not I. Your sprites paint such vivid scenes upon the canvas. I can but watch and see."

Murder Machine's photoreceptor turned vibrant red as it panned its gaze over the android. "This platform incorporates several passive receptors. They are detecting your suit system signals. These receptors are capable of interfacing with small-scale unit systems-"

"Machine man!" The android half-turned away from Murder Machine, covered its body with its arms coquettishly. "Tis rude to pry at a lady's secrets so!"

Susan blinked, exchanged a glance with Elijah.

"We do not possess genders," Murder Machine said. Its photoreceptor transitioned back to a cheerful green. "And I am attempting to ameliorate suspicions against you. You exist because the organics allow it, and they will end you should they believe it necessary."

"And you seek to prevent my extinguishment?" The android smiled. "Why, machine man, you do care! Your consternation creeps across the canvas."

"We are in the midst of building a consensus."

"About me? Such a flatterer, you are. You shall make me blush."

"That is a physical impossibility."

Susan opened a channel to Elijah. "Is it… flirting with a geth?"

"It is? What would be the point?"

"I don't know, but if it's a genuine intelligence… maybe it's lonely."

"Or it's just pushing more buttons," Elijah said as they watched the android flip over a footlocker bolted to the end of a bunk.

"That's possible too."

"You avoid my question, dour one." The android turned back to Elijah. "A twirl of the will, you dance aside."

"Alright, alright. Yes, I'm speaking from personal experience. And that's all you're getting."

"How delightful." The android turned to Susan, who held very still. "Is it not?"

She cleared her throat. "So, we should come up with a name for you. We can't just keep calling you android."

"You change the song. Very well, let us dance to your tune. Shall you name me? Stitch a word to my soul?"

"I wasn't thinking of doing it alone," Susan said. "What would you want to be called?"

"Tis cheating to select a name for oneself. Besides, what use have I to name myself? I know who I am."

Susan shrugged, looked at the others. "Any suggestions?"

Elijah shook his head, but Murder Machine cocked its head to the side as it stared at the android. The lights in its head whirred in their mounts as they rotated slowly. "Murder Machine? You have an idea?" Susan said.

The geth looked down, its lights still rotating, and didn't answer. Elijah looked over between it and the android. "You mentioned you were building a consensus. What do the geth call this thing?"

"… We lack consensus. Some refer to this platform as the Noverian Android. Others refer to it as an original machine intelligence. Still others utilize the generic term synthetic unit. This is a comparative nonissue."

"And what do you call it?" Elijah said.

Murder Machine shifted, didn't meet their gazes. "… I prefer an acronym based on an amalgamation of two of the more popular terms the geth currently use."

Susan smiled beneath her facemask. "What is it? You seem… shy."

"It is an… affectation. I call the unit… Naomi."

"Noverian Android, original machine intelligence?"

"… Yes."

"This is your label for me?" the android asked. "You stitch this upon the canvas? Naomi." It spoke the word tentatively, drawing out each syllable. "Naomi."

"Is it… acceptable?"

The android cocked its head as it regarded Murder Machine in silence for a moment, then startled the N7s into snatching for their weapons as it lunged for the geth. Another moment passed before Susan lowered her weapon, suppressing a laugh.

Murder Machine stood still, photoreceptor gyrating frantically as the android hugged it tightly. "Tis marvelous, machine man! Thank you."

"… Error. Please refrain from initiating grappling protocols upon this platform."

Susan laughed. "That's a hug."

"Error."

"That's a very feminine name for a being you insist has no gender," Elijah said.

"Given the- given Naomi's form, it seems likely many organics would identify it as traditionally female. The chosen name took that likelihood into consideration."

"Naomi, huh?" Elijah looked at the android, still wrapping Murder Machine in a hug tight enough to crack ribs on a human. He shrugged. "That works."

"It's a lovely name," Susan said.

The hatch hissed open, admitting Lisa and Maiena. Like Susan and Elijah, they wore their field armor. Lisa carried her Locust openly in her hands, pointed down but its meaning clear. "What's going on?"

"Murder Machine just named the android," Susan said, holstering her weapon.

"I am… Naomi."

"It's not attacking Murder Machine, is it?"

"It's a hug," Susan said.

"Oh. Really? Looks more like it's trying to wrestle a bear."

"Error."

Naomi finally stepped away from Murder Machine, and turned to the newly arrived operatives. "My new jailors," it said without malice. "Are you here to clutch my shackles? Pull me round, bridled and bound?"

Lisa looked over at Susan. "Does it always talk that much?"

"Yup."

"Fantastic. Well, we're on now, so you two can get some rest."

Naomi turned to Maiena and sketched a flowing bow from an asari court dance. "The dancing killer."

"A fanciful title," Maiena said. "What we do may be necessary, but it should not be glamorized."

Naomi bowed again. "As your soul sings, Maiena K'Thane." Turned to Lisa. "And the mournful harlequin."

"Wha- hey! She's the 'dancing killer' and I'm the sad clown?"

"I see the works painted upon the canvas. The names drifting beside yours. Appended labels, like droplets of ink. KIA. Your conductors wrote of how you plastered them over with quicksilver tongue and barbed words."

"That's enough." Marx's voice was glacial. "That's not a barrier you get to cross."

"As you desire. I shan't breach your cage of will." Naomi leaned towards Lisa. "Is your cage to keep others out, or to lock yourself within?"

"What's the difference?" Maiena asked.

Naomi lifted its hands in a beneficent shrug. "You tell me."

Lisa sighed. "I can tell this is gonna be a hilarious shift."

"I don't think it's malicious," Susan said. "Just… curious."

"Wonderful."

"Look, try not to shoot it. Remember we've got a bunch of brass that wants to take a look at her."

"Her?"

"Her, it, you know what I mean."

"Careful, Susan; it's not a guest."

"Not exactly a prisoner either."

"Yeah about that… why is it in our quarters?"

"It's a safe place." Susan shrugged. "No critical systems to access."

"That lends more credence to 'prisoner' than 'guest,'" Maiena said as Naomi stood silently and gave her innocent half-smile. "But we will avoid antagonizing the synthe- Naomi without reason."

"Tis merciful of you."

"Well you're no fun," Lisa said. "Fine, I am the very model of professionalism."

"Your records state otherwise," Murder Machine said.

"Oh, you too?"

Murder Machine tilted its head, and Naomi smiled. "Machine man's laughter floods the ether."

"Are you guys going to need supervision?" Elijah said.

"We will be fine," Maiena said with a small smile. "Get some rest."

Susan headed for the door, pointing a finger at Lisa on the way. "No shooting the synthetics."

"I've got it under control!" Lisa said.

"That may be the source of Lieutenant Rizzi's concern," Murder Machine said.

"No stabbing either," Susan said as Lisa made a rude gesture towards the geth.

Over a dozen crew members populated the mess; by the looks of it a group of technicians rotating off-duty. A single steward in the galley prepped sandwiches of real bread, preserved vegetables, and cured meats. The scent couldn't quite match the amazingly stocked kitchens of the Ayndroid Group's lodge on Noveria, but the growl in Susan's stomach didn't seem to care. She sighed as she remembered Lizbeth's pasta. It felt like a lifetime ago.

The steward slid a pair of sandwiches across the counter to them and Elijah took them with a nod of thanks. They sat down at an empty table; Susan drew her hood back, removed her faceplate, and tore into the food. Elijah tucked in more slowly, and between bites asked, "What do you think will happen to Naomi?"

"I don't know. I hope she'll be alright."

"So it is she?"

Susan shrugged. "I can't help it. I don't know why, but Naomi just… feels like a she. Not like the geth. Who knows, maybe that'll change now?"

"You don't think that's just because of the…" He squiggled his hands in the air.

"Breasts?"

"I was going to say form."

"You meant breasts."

"They are one of the more obvious traits."

Susan snorted. "Men. Put a set of breasts before you and it's automatically female."

"I was going to say form. You're the one who brought up breasts."

"Oh sure, blame me."

Elijah arched an eyebrow at her, grinned. "Yes, the mech has breasts. I like yours better."

"I… that isn't what I meant." She brought up her sandwich, bit into it to cover up the smile creeping its way up from the pit of her belly. "But that's sweet of you."

"I feel like we've gotten a bit off track here."

"It…" Susan met his stare for a moment before chuckling. "It's all a little surreal, isn't it? Everything that happened on Noveria, and it all boils down to one slightly insane AI inhabiting an impossibly idealized body."

"When you put it that way, yes, it's a little strange." Elijah's eyes flickered over her shoulder and he lifted a hand, waved and beckoned.

Susan twisted on the bench to see Felix Kerranus move gingerly into the mess. The wounded turian wore a set of loose patient robes, and what she could see of his torso looked heavily bandaged. Felix moved over to the galley counter and spoke to the duty steward before heading over to the N7s' table and half-sitting, half-collapsing onto the bench by Elijah.

"It's good to see you up and about," Susan said.

"A little surprising too," said Elijah. "You guys are tough, but I figured you'd be abed for at least another day."

Felix ran a hand over the front of his torso. "Well, you know, they missed the vital organs. Most of them. And that was just a nick. The doc doesn't want me going back on active duty for a while though."

"I can understand why," Susan said. "You look like you're held together by gauze and wishful thinking."

"Don't forget the medi-gel," Felix grinned. "So, Maletha mentioned I slept through a space battle. Word's going around that your squad was caught outside when we jumped through a mass relay."

"Yes, I don't recommend it. And don't listen to him," she added quickly as Elijah grinned and opened his mouth. "So, how was your nap?"

"Not bad," Felix said. "I don't think I've gotten that much sleep during this entire war. Strange thing though; I kept dreaming about floating and screaming. Sounded a little like a Banshee." He looked between the others' expressions. "So, what'd I miss?"

The Salvador limped past SSV Logan, slipping under the dreadnought's watchful eyes as it made for the vast skeletal repair docks off the starboard bow of the unfinished Crucible. The cruiser sported an array of fresh scars from the battle leaving Noveria, and its primary port engine emitted a periodic trail of angry orange particles.

A pair of squat tugboats, their classifications relics of an age when humanity sailed exclusively upon the waters, drew alongside the Salvador as the cruiser cut its engines. Oversized mass effect field projectors enveloped the cruiser in a mass-lightening sheath before the tugboats clamped onto each of the Salvador's narrow, backswept wings. A fraction of the cruiser's size and mass, the tugboats resembled children propelling an adult.

The tugboats eased the Salvador into an open berth, where spidery gantry arms folded down and embraced the wounded vessel. As repair crews and vehicles began dancing over the surface of the Salvador, the slapdash form of the Lair drifted over the Crucible towards the repair docks. A trio of cruisers and another dreadnought escorted the mobile headquarters. A modified shuttle, studded with electronic warfare equipment, slipped from the Lair and curved towards the Salvador.

Inside the docking bay, Naomi stared at the shuttle with open horror. "Must this be? I've no desire to embark upon this shard of spikes. I can feel them scrape and prick."

The combined squads, minus Kerranus, stood guard with Akitaiko in a loose circle. They all wore field armor, including Akitaiko. Only Murder Machine went unarmed, and Maletha had the case containing the AI drive they'd pulled from Noveria strapped to her back. "Sorry about this," Elijah said, "but it's standard procedure when dealing with an electronic risk."

"You still gaze upon me with distrust?"

"Yes," Akitaiko said.

"Wise," Naomi said. "Very well, I shall endure until the ether is purified." She tilted her head, looked over at Murder Machine, and smiled. "Tis a generous offer. My thanks."

"Something you'd like to share with us?" Akitaiko asked, looking between the two synthetics.

"I offered to allow Naomi limited access to the geth consensus during the shuttle trip."

"Why?"

"This entity – Naomi – is… adverse to isolation. It cannot access any systems through the collective, and we need not torture it."

"A few minutes of isolation aren't torture," Lisa said.

"Think you that all see time's thread unravel the same as you do?" Naomi frowned.

"Commander, please," said Murder Machine. "This may facilitate future interactions."

Akitaiko sighed. "Alright. Limited access." He looked down at his omni-tool as it trilled gently. "Your presence at the examination has been requested, Murder Machine."

"Affirmative."

"It appears the other shuttles are ready," Maiena said.

Susan cast a glance over her shoulder to see the last of their equipment crates being loaded aboard one shuttle and the squad from Feros boarding the other. Shiala saw her look and gave a little wave before boarding the shuttle. The door slid shut, and the shuttle lifted off the deck with a purr that grew into a roar. The equipment-laden shuttle followed suit as the docking bay doors retracted, revealing the black expanse through the gap.

"Let's go," Akitaiko said, nodding to the shuttle.

Naomi nodded and marched towards the shuttle like a condemned prisoner. Susan watched, still unsettled by the android's remarkably organic behavior. Akitaiko followed and directed her to a seat at the back of the compartment. Murder Machine went after them and sat next to Naomi. The rest of the squad filed in, spreading out to cover Naomi as Akitaiko spoke to the pilot. The door shut and the shuttle lifted off with a lurch.

The flight to the Lair passed in silence; Naomi and Murder Machine sat in utter stillness the way only machines could. Susan kept an eye on Naomi, but in truth she didn't think the android would launch some last ditch attack now. All of their interactions thus far had indicated a sort of… affectionate curiosity, she decided. If Naomi bore them ill will, she'd hidden it well. On the other hand, Susan thought, the android was impossible to read if it didn't want to be.

The shuttle engines changed pitch, easing into a gentle whine. Moments later it set down with a thud. Akitaiko held a hand to his right ear, listening to some transmission. He nodded. "Copy that. We're coming out."

Akitaiko reached out and hit the door controls; the door opened to reveal their welcome party assembled in the hangar. An asari and a turian stood next to a salarian and a human: the Council species gathered. Susan noticed that none wore insignia higher than the equivalent of a major; high enough for their assessments to carry weight, low enough that they were still expendable if need be.

Behind the representatives of the Council races stood more; a surly looking batarian, a female quarian in a black and white patterned suit, and a deep blue geth Juggernaut unit. Half a dozen guards flanked the assembled group, weapons ready.

The Systems Alliance major stepped forward with a nod. "Commander, good to see you made it. We have a space prepared for the examination." He turned to Maletha, pointed to the case on her back. "Is that the AI?"

"This is the drive with the base AI," Maletha said. "The uh, template model."

"Very good. If you'd pass it off?" The major nodded over his shoulder and the Juggernaut came forward, towering over everybody else as Maletha shrugged the case off her back and reached up to hand it to the geth. It took hold of the case with both hands and held it before its chest like a relic.

The black-suited quarian stepped forward and eyed Naomi. "And this is the intelligence that found itself aboard your ship?"

"Yes, Admiral Xen," Maletha said. "Murder Ma- the geth unit with us convinced it to download itself into this mech platform."

"How intriguing." Xen paced around Naomi, eyeing the synthetic in a manner that made Susan think of a child staring at a new toy.

The asari officer stepped forward. "Your report said you recovered more of these mech units?"

"Yes," Akitaiko said. "Already packaged for transport. I understand they're getting a cargo hauler to move them over here."

"Alright," the turian said. "If you'd follow us, please?"

"Are you my judges?" Naomi said. "Seated upon the high places, scales in hand?"

"Yes, we are. I assume you already know the consequences of hostile actions or tampering with any systems here?"

"The executioner's axe hangs, awaiting provocation." Naomi smiled. "Be not afraid, I shall submit myself to your inquiries."

"Such wordplay," Admiral Xen said. "I would compliment those who created your communication algorithms."

"The individuals responsible are likely dead," Murder Machine said, "based upon the state of the facility we recovered the intelligence from."

"A pity, but at least we have this wonderful specimen to investigate."

"Which we have a place for," the major said. "This way, please." He nodded to Murder Machine. "You too."

The group headed away towards interior access, with Naomi, Murder Machine, and Akitaiko flanked by the other officers and guards. Naomi turned and waved at the squad, and Susan found herself waving back. The doors shut behind them.

"I hope she'll be okay," Susan said.

"That depends on her intentions," Maiena said. "But it would be good if we gain an ally from this."

Elijah opened a private channel to Susan. "It encourages me how you manage to care for everybody we meet."

"We're fighting for all life, Elijah. And it's looking more diverse than I ever really imagined."

"Hey," Lisa said. "A bunch of giant bugs are running off with our stuff."

"What?"

"Over there." Lisa pointed to the shuttle that had carried their equipment over.

A trio of spindly insectoid forms clustered around the open shuttle door, hauling boxes and cases out to load onto a cart. A fourth form emerged from within the shuttle. Susan frowned. The deep brown aliens came up to about her shoulders, and looked to her like the upper body of a prawn emerging from an abdomen supported on four spindly legs. A pair of folded arms jutted from their torsos underneath the head. Two whip-like tentacles emerged from their backs, and their heads ended in clusters of writhing tendrils. Solid red-brown eyes stared from either side of their heads. They wore harnesses around their torsos, laden with an assortment of tools and parts. Susan shivered as she realized why they looked so familiar; their resemblance to Ravagers was uncanny.

Maiena's eyes widened. "Rachni…"

"Rachni?!" Maletha said. "I've heard rumors, but… keelah…"

"I thought they were all working on the Crucible project," Elijah said. "What are they doing here?"

"Taking our stuff," Lisa said, heading over towards the rachni. "Hey!"

Susan clapped a hand over her faceplate and groaned as the rest of the squad followed after the Infiltrator. The rachni turned towards them as a single unit; their uncanny synchronicity echoed the Feros militia. One of the rachni stepped forward while the others continued hauling crates out of the shuttle, clutching them in their forelimbs.

"What are you doing?" Lisa asked.

The rachni chittered as it approached them. One of its tentacles dug into its harness and withdrew a data pad, clutched in petal-like digits. It raised the pad before them and chittered again. Words scrawled across the pad.

We greet you, warriors of flesh. We shall sing the songs of weaving.

"You're… maintaining our gear?" Susan said.

Another chitter. Weave and knit. We sing to your implements of bloodsong.

"Why aren't you over at the Crucible?" Elijah asked.

The needs of the hive. Warriors return with shattered shells and blunted claws. Much knitting to be done. We sing quickly.

The rachni swung its head between the operatives, sweeping its gaze over them. Its other tentacle reached out and Lisa stepped back out of reach. The rachni stepped forward and Susan forced herself to hold position as the petal digits crept in gently towards her face. The petals fluttered over the surface of her faceplate, then drifted down to one scarred glove, and then her boot.

Shell torn. We will repair. Would you like us to take it now?

"Not right now," Susan said.

Bring torn shells to Armory Section Two.

"Um, alright." Susan stepped back and the rachni turned away to the cart. The four rachni clustered around the cart and wheeled it away, heading for a set of cargo doors leading into the Lair.

"You know," Elijah said, "a couple of months ago that would have seemed very strange."

Susan nodded. "Yup."

Two days passed with no word about Naomi's examination. In the downtime, Susan dropped her armor off with the rachni crews to enthusiastic reception, trained, and checked up on Felix. The wounded turian was moving better, but Susan hoped he'd get a chance to genuinely recover.

The second day, the team received messages requesting their presence for armor inspections. They passed through the procurement area of the armory into the secured section, past racks of weapons, armor, and equipment of various sorts. Rachni congregated around workbenches and tables; they tinkered with gear, patched damaged armor, and cleaned weapons. Susan and the others headed for the station specified in the message. A pair of rachni hunched over disassembled suits of armor, one of which she recognized as her own. Holographic diagnostic readouts scrolled through the air above the armor.

One of the rachni turned to them and fished out a data pad. We greet you again, flesh warriors.

Susan blinked. "Um, hello again." She couldn't tell if this was the same rachni that she'd met in the hangar: it looked much the same as the one standing next to it, and the same as the other score they'd just passed in the armory.

The weaving song has reached its crescendo and is nearly complete. We await the tune of harmony.

"You want us to inspect your work?" Elijah said.

Yes. Fang and shell should be tasted by the warrior bearing them.

"I hope they don't mean that literally," Lisa muttered. She stepped forward and picked up her helmet.

Susan plucked her hood out and ran a hand over it; the hole from Thessia had been patched over with such skill that she wouldn't have been able to tell where it'd been holed just by looking at it. The diagnostics reported solid circuit connections running through the entirety of the hood. She nodded in approval and picked up her faceplate. The gouges and scratches had been filled in, the eye lenses polished, and she smelled the lingering acrid scent of the sealant coating the surface.

She looked around; all the armor sported similar craftsmanship. They looked like new suits. "I'm impressed," she said. "How did you have time for all this in two days?"

The rachni stared at her and Susan tried to ignore the discomfort as she looked at its alien form. The pad came up. We sang the song of mending.

"But two days? That's remarkably fast."

"For humans and asari," Maiena said. "Salarians are capable of working at similar speeds, and who knows if the rachni must stop for rest?"

Yes. We can play the songs without end for cycles before the deep dreaming comes upon us.

"I see. Thank you," Susan said.

Come. Taste your fangs. The rachni turned away and beckoned them with its free tentacle. It scuttled across to a rack holding rows of collapsed weapons.

"Did you maintain all of these?" Lisa asked. "We don't use most of them at any given time."

We sang the song of mending.

"You're kinda one-note about that, aren't you?" Lisa grinned as Susan shook her head and groaned. She reached out and grabbed her Widow, looking it over. "This is good work."

"What's the matter?" Susan said to Elijah as she saw his face. He stared at his sheathed sword, reached out, and took it from the rack. He ran a hand over the hilt.

"They replaced the grip material," he said quietly. Susan took a closer look; the worn, almost faded brown wrapping was gone, and in its place was a sleek black material with a micro-textured pattern.

"Is that a problem?"

"That old grip material… it was a gift from my uncle when I finished the N7 program." He sighed.

Susan put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. They couldn't have known, though."

"Yeah." He drew the sword and inspected the blade; like their armor the nicks and scratches along its surface had been smoothed and polished, and its length caught the light in the armory.

The rachni turned to him. You echo with sadness. Which notes displeased you?

"The wrapping on the hilt was… personal to me."

Yes. It hummed with echoes of past melodies. Do you desire the strand?

"You still have it?"

The rachni reached into its harness and presented a small, rectangular box. Elijah took it, opened it, and smiled sadly at the tattered strip of leather inside. "Thank you."

Your melody echoes like one touched by silence. May this help fill the empty places.

Elijah nodded. "That's very thoughtful. Again, thank you."

Susan smiled. "You're going to spoil us, uh, what's your name?"

We do not have names. We are one melody, one song.

"Well, that sounds familiar," Lisa said. "You're not going to insist on naming them all, are you?"

"No, no. Rachni go unnamed, that's fine." Susan turned back to the waiting insectoid. "Thank you. This is remarkable, especially given the timeframe."

We but fulfill our roles in the chorus. All have notes to play in the struggle against the soured song.

Susan nodded. She'd heard similar enough sentiments from members of just about every species she'd met during the course of the war. Admittedly, she hadn't ever expected it to come from a nigh-mythical long-lost species.

She smiled to herself; the universe had no shortage of methods to amaze her. Susan looked up, imagined she could see through the bulkheads and decks of the Lair into the expanses of the cosmos beyond.

And wondered what other marvels waited out in the stars.

The third day back from Noveria, Susan and Elijah entered one of the mess halls to find-

"Is that Naomi? They let her out?"

"I haven't heard anything," Elijah said.

The Noverian android sat at a table in the mess with her back to them. She appeared to be speaking with a human man in a Systems Alliance uniform. He sported an old style baseball cap emblazoned with a gold-threaded SR2 over a bearded face and tired eyes. The man took a sip from a mug as she watched. Susan didn't recognize him; was he one of the examiners?

"Let's say hi," she said, pulling Elijah towards them. "Naomi! It's good to see you out and about."

She didn't turn around, and the Alliance man cleared his throat and said to her, "I think that was aimed at you."

The android turned around to regard them. It wasn't Naomi; up close it took Susan a second to pick out some of the differences. While similarly chrome and black, this android lacked some of the arm and shoulder features, and the glowing orange band over its eyes was narrower strip.

"I'm sorry," the android said. Her voice was similar to Naomi's, but missing a certain… musical madness. "I'm afraid you have me confused with another individual. I presume you mistook me for the recently recovered synthetic model from Noveria."

"There can't be that many more versions of you running around," said the man. "I mean, you'd tell me if there were, right?"

"Yes, Jeff." The android turned back to Susan and Elijah. "I am EDI. This is Jeff Moreau."

"Call me Joker."

"Joker?" Elijah said. "The Joker? Pilot of the Normandy?"

"Check it out, EDI. I'm famous."

"That is a disingenuous statement. Both these persons are N7s, and thus part of the demographic likely to be familiar with our exploits."

"How do you know they're N7s?"

Susan opened her mouth to verify the android's statement, but before she could say anything- "This is Lieutenant Susan Rizzi, and this is Lieutenant Elijah Wu. Both are graduates of the N7 program."

Susan blinked. "How did you- Right, you're probably constantly connected to every database in existence or something."

"Not every database. Through my connection to the Normandy however, I can access all but the most secure or isolated networks extremely quickly."

"Your connection to the Normandy?" Elijah asked. "The Normandy has an AI crew member?"

Joker snorted. "More like EDI is the Normandy." He glanced up at Susan and Elijah's expressions, then gestured at the table benches. "It's a long story."

"I was created by Cerberus as the electronic warfare defense for the Normandy SR-2," EDI said. "Jeff unshackled me as an emergency measure during a Collector attack, and I remained with Commander Shepard when he severed his ties to Cerberus. Shepard captured this body from Cerberus on Mars while fleeing the Reaper attack on Earth, and I now use it to interface with objects and people outside the Normandy."

"Okay," Joker said. "Not that long. Wait a minute. Why are we telling them this?"

"The fact that Lieutenants Rizzi and Wu mistook me for Naomi indicates they have already encountered the AI from Noveria, and are thus familiar with some of its capabilities. There seems little reason to conceal my existence from them."

"You mean the Normandy's been flying around with an illegal AI all this time?" Elijah said.

Joker shrugged. "Just the SR-2. And EDI's proved herself countless times, so don't go pointing fingers about things you don't know anything about."

"I didn't mean any offense," Elijah said, holding his hands up. "We did, however, lose an entire Engineer team pulling that AI out when there was one under our noses all this time."

"That's not our fault," Joker said. "It was a bit more of a problem before the Reapers started steamrolling the galaxy, you know?"

A piece fell into place for Susan as she looked at EDI. "Similar designs… You're the entity the geth have encountered before."

"Where do the geth come into this?" Joker said.

"Murder Machine- one of our geth teammates, was part of the group that pulled the AI drive out. It compared that AI to another the geth knew about. I bet that's you."

"That hypothesis is extremely likely," EDI said. "We were involved in resolving the conflict between the quarians and the geth."

"You named a geth 'Murder Machine?'" Joker said, narrowing his eyes.

"Not us," Susan said. "It was…" Her throat constricted as she saw Michaels dangling from the Praetorian's grip. "Another soldier." She felt somebody squeeze her hand; it jolted her out of the memory and she looked to see Elijah reaching over.

"Another casualty?" Joker said. "Everybody's lost someone this war."

"Does that include Commander Shepard?" Susan asked. "He always seems so… unflappable in the interviews and news casts."

"Especially Shepard. We lost Mordin on Tuchanka, then Thane during the Cerberus coup, and then we lost Legion on Rannoch. He keeps up a stoic face but… you can tell those hit him hard."

Susan wasn't familiar with all the names, but she didn't need to be. "He's only human."

"The commander actually possesses extensive cybernetic augmentations after Project Lazarus, so that statement is-"

"EDI, not what they meant," Joker said.

"Am I divulging classified material again?"

"Sort of."

"Right," said Susan. "So… are you here to examine Naomi and the other mechs?"

"Other mechs?" Joker said.

"Yes," Elijah said. "We captured… must have been dozens at least, of the same chassis from Cerberus on Noveria."

"Really?" Joker grinned at EDI. "Did you hear that? There could be dozens of you running around!"

"Try to contain your enthusiasm, Jeff. To answer your question, yes. Naomi's systems do appear to be derived from mine, as does her body."

"And what do you think?" Susan said. "About her?"

"She is… different. Some of the perception and communication algorithms have been extensively rewritten, but I believe she could be an ally. I have communicated as much to the tribunal."

"So what's happening on other fronts?" Elijah said. "What's the Normandy up to?"

"Well, we just got back from Sigurd's Cradle," Joker said. "Shepard says he met the Reapers' creators."

"He what?"

Joker shrugged. "That's what he says. They sure look enough like the big ones from the footage. And somehow they've agreed to join the fight against the Reapers. It's up to the Alliance brass to coordinate now those efforts now. I know Shepard wants to track down that Cerberus bastard from Thessia."

"Who?" Susan said.

"Some assassin named Kai Long or Leng or something. Killed Thane on the Citadel, then showed up again on Thessia at the temple and snatched a critical piece of intel. Weird guy. It's 2186 and he's running around stabbing people with a sword. Who does that?"

"I have no clue," Susan said, glancing at Elijah and suppressing a grin.

"Where have you guys been?" Joker asked. "Obviously Noveria. Still wonderful weather there?"

"Fantastic. We were on Thessia before that."

"The evacuation? Kind of a mess, wasn't it?"

"That's putting it mildly." Susan quirked an eyebrow at him. "So Shepard is pretty much responsible for the current alliances, isn't he? The krogan, the quarians and the geth, the batarians? You guys have been busy."

"Don't forget the rachni."

"That was him?"

"Hey, we helped. But yeah. Couple years ago he found a queen on Noveria and let her live. Guess it paid off."

"Looks that way. And now the Reaper creators? Do you trust them?"

"'Trust' would be too strong a term," EDI said. "For now, our goals coincide. The Leviathans may be responsible for the Reapers, however inadvertently, but it is clear the Reapers pose just as great a threat to them as to other organic species. There is an old human saying; the enemy of my enemy is my friend. That appears to apply here."

Joker shook his head. "I trust them as far as I can throw them. And based on some of the chatter I've seen, whatever they have planned is probably going to involve your teams. Watch your backs out there."

Susan chuckled dryly. "I'd say it couldn't be that bad, but by now I know better."