Chapter 36: Life
Silence changed to cacophony in an instant, only to still again as Shepard raised his fist and barked out an order for silence. All eyes in the command center glanced back and forth between the hologram and himself.
"We met on Thessia," Shepard said at the AI's introduction, nodding at the image. "How did you get here?"
"We did. And we did not. The version of myself that you spoke with on the asari homeworld was destroyed when the temple was destroyed. I am the result of the program reforming itself," it explained. "When your vessel's AI linked to this facility's computer systems the survival mechanisms of my code activated."
"You're saying that you transfered yourself to the Normandy and now onto Omega?"
"This facility, despite its current designation, is of prothean design. I was able to recompile myself by spreading my computational needs across the extensive network within Omega. Due to the nature of the automatic protocols your vessel's AI was considered a hostile entity and the upload completed by forcing my way into this system. This was not a conscious decision and your vessel's AI should have suffered no permanent degradation."
"That AI has a name, EDI," he replied. "Do you currently have control of all of Omega's systems?"
In response the doors to the command center open and closed again, then various lights and displayed flicked through various stages of power as the AI seemed to look around. Vendetta turned its attention back to him.
"It would seem that I possess access to ninety seven point three percent of Omega's internal systems."
A worrying statement when he considered that the station was inhabited by thousands of people, from regular citizens to Alliance soldiers, that were now at the mercy of an AI that he'd had only a brief discussion with. Before he could voice this concern, however, the doors to the command center open and Javik strode in.
"It is true!" the prothean hissed in disbelief.
The hologram looked at the living prothean with an odd expression.
"Records stated that a surviving prothean had been discovered. It is still… surprising. Greetings, Javik, First Warleader and Avatar of Vengeance."
Javik's reaction was nothing nearly so cordial.
"You must destroy it, Commander. It is an… abomination," the prothean snarled. "Only one of my people corrupted by the Reapers influence would allow the construction of a synthetic intelligence in the image of our ourselves! Your alliance with the geth is already foolish… to trust yet another synthetic life form is to invite treachery!"
"My programming is not compromised by Reaper code nor am I a created life form," Vendetta shot back immediately, the more honorific tone disappearing. "My thought patterns are those of Head Scientist Yasira. In the final days of the war it was decided that warrior-caste prejudices against synthetic advancement and self-preservation were irrelevant in the face of annihilation."
"And so you decided that you would make the legacy of the Prothean Empire the same as that of the zha, transformed into synthetic monstrosities?"
"The legacy of the Prothean Empire is its annihilation!" the AI's voice cracked like a whip.
Any final questions as to whether the intelligence was a true AI quickly disappeared at the genuine, tangible anger in the hologram's tone. More than just anger. Disdain, contempt, pain. Vendetta began to speak again, its tone much more controlled.
"The zha and their creations, the zha'til, were corrupted by Reaper influence before any form of defense could be designed and implemented. The failings of one race do not dictate the fate of all. We believed ourselves to be the perfect species, but our empire was ground into dust by the same enemies these species now face. I have examined every record available to both this human's vessel and aboard this station in the span of our conversation, coming to the conclusion that my previous incarnations instinct was correct. These primitive species have succeeded in far greater gains against the great enemy than all of our feeble resistance did."
For possibly the first time since awakening him on Eden Prime, Shepard saw the prothean warrior look taken aback. Still, he wasn't one to back down meekly.
"The Prothean Empire fought the Reapers for centuries," Javik countered. "These primitives have struggled for a single year of their time and already teeter on destruction. You would compare them to our great species?"
The hologram shook its head, its tone becoming mournful.
"You remember the war as a warrior does. You are the Avatar of Vengeance. You see only the destruction you caused your enemies. My creator… I, saw the reality. We fought no war. We were a wounded animal lashing out. Our victories where desperate delaying actions that resulted in the destruction of entire solar systems to destroy a handful Reaper capital ships and legions of their thralls."
Vendetta's digital image spread its arms.
"We are superior to these creatures? Our species is extinct. You in the flesh, I as a synthetic memory, are all that remains. Yet these primitive cultures are alive now. They have succeeded in thwarting the great enemy's trap. Their galaxy is not a thousand isolated star systems awaiting annihilation."
"Your concern is that I am dangerous, but you welcome a synthetic intelligence aboard your personal vessel, do you not?" Vendetta asked, addressing Shepard now. "If I wished the further the Reaper's cause I had the capability to disable the life support systems of this station within nanoseconds of my actualization. Even now, it would take mere moments to power the heavy cannons of this station's defenses and turn them upon your fleet. I have done neither."
A small gasp came from those in the control center, though he wasn't certain if it was due to the revelation of EDI's presence aboard the Normandy or the way that the AI had voiced aloud the fears that always sprang to the forefront of people's minds when the idea of an artificial intelligence held control over life and death.
Shepard looked around the room, full of nervous and uncertain faces. The Council's proclamation against artificial intelligence was simply a part of history for most of the galaxy. It was ingrained in the older races. The Reaper's own synthetic nature had done nothing to engender feelings of acceptance among the populace. The geth had barely entered the war on their side and EDI wasn't a commonly known fact. Unfortunately, Vendetta had chosen to reveal itself in a room crowded with technicians and others.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced over at Tali. Her posture was all nervous energy, ready to spring into action, but she noticed his gaze. Behind the mask, he met silver eyes and while he couldn't actually see it, he suspected a smile crossed her features when she gave him a slow nod. Garrus mirrored the gesture from behind here, his back resting against a console. Javik, of course, looked as if he had just swallowed something sour, while Miranda looked as unreadable as always. He kept his own face neutral and turned his gaze back to the AI's holographic image.
"You are correct. EDI is a true AI, and has proven herself a vital member of my crew," he replied finally. "She has earned that distinction through her actions."
Vendetta's image bowed its head.
"Then I request to join in your war against our mutual enemy. The time of the Prothean Empire is long past, but my knowledge can benefit those who would continue to fight. This, however, will require me to remain within the systems of this installation."
"I accept your request."
Murmurs erupted around the control room. Shepard moved with slow, deliberate steps to stand in front of the main holo-projector, turning his back to the holographic image and instead addressing the rest of the room.
"It seems there is something I need to address. I'm sorry I haven't before now, unfortunately there are things that I have come to accept as normal. One of those things is artificial intelligence. So first- off an admission: the Normandy, my ship, has been the home to a full artificial intelligence for over two years."
"I can hear the fear whenever the subject is mentioned! For centuries, the Council has outlawed the development of artificial intelligence. They pointed to the war that drove the Quarian people from their homeworld as a perfect example of why it must be forbidden," Shepard said, and then extended a hand in Tali's direction, gesturing her forward. "But we know better now."
Immediately he saw her tense. The truth was simple, he could say anything and people might believe it. But, if he was really going to make people believe that their doubts were from a legacy of fear, rather than grounded in fact, it would have to come from one of those that could speak not in theory, but from experience. He knew exactly what he was asking her to do, and so did she. The quarian bounced once on her toes and then strode forward to take her place by his side.
"The Morning War was the most terrible conflict my people have ever experienced… until now," Tali began, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "But while the Council used it as an example of the dangers of AI, my people spent three centuries without a home. We were filled with a hatred of our creations, believing we had been fools to create the geth and defy the Council's edicts, even if it was by accident."
Tali looked out at the room.
"I know the truth now. Our mistake was not the geth's creation. It was our fear of them. We created life and out of our fear we tried to destroy it. We feared the consequences of the Council discovered the truth, feared rebellion, feared everything that had always been warned about by creating artificial intelligence. In our fear we made our own nightmares into reality."
Shepard watched the young admiral force her hands behind her back with visible effort when clearly they wanted nothing more to wrap themselves into knots at her waist. He watched her swallow heavily and, though there was a crack, her next words rang out clearly.
"The geth killed billions of my people. But we are the ones that pulled the trigger! I have fought alongside the geth. I have seen the homeworld that they have welcomed us back to. I have been forced to unlearn a lifetime of hatred... and I can tell you that synthetics are not our enemy. The Reapers are our enemy. If we are going to survive, it means standing united with all of our allies. Even those made of circuitry and alloy instead of flesh and blood."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
"I have avoided exercising my authority unless absolutely necessary, but I am now making an exception. I am making an official proclamation as Praetor of the Greater Systems Alliance. In the face of war and with the geth as our allies we will no longer abide by the Council edict against artificial intelligence. My decision is based, not in hope or idealism, but upon the sacrifices and efforts made by those that we have feared for so long. I have placed my life in the hands of both the artificial intelligence aboard the Normandy and in the hands of the geth. My trust has been rewarded in every instance."
"Our survival is based on our ability to stand as one against the greatest threat we, or any sapient species, have ever faced. We will no longer waste our effort worrying about laws meant to divide us. Already one of the greatest fears of the past, the rachni, have become our allies. We will welcome the geth with open arms. We will accept the aid of any that wish to fight the Reapers, be they organic or synthetic."
The control room's staff was less than fifty people, but the applause that followed still felt good. He hoped it meant they had taken their words to heart. Either way most of them were going to be dealing with an AI up close and in person in the coming months. Shepard raised his omni-tool and looked at the display.
"Did you get all that, EDI?"
"Yes, Shepard. The prothean AI also provided me all data from the Omega internal cameras."
"Good. Send it to all Alliance brass for immediate distribution," he ordered, turning to Miranda. "And I'm sure you won't have any issues working with an AI."
"I'm a practical woman," she agreed.
"Then let's get to work. Vendetta? Time to start sharing some of that knowledge."
"What do you need to know?" the AI asked.
"Tell me everything you know about the entity known as Leviathan."
"Is this really it?" Tali asked skeptically.
The image that floated before them was a blue-green orb wrapped in roiling clouds. The atmosphere and gravity were almost identical to Earth's. It would have been considered a garden world… if not for the fact that there was less than four thousand square kilometers of landmass on the entire planet. Everything else was storm wracked seas and jagged, volcanic spires of rock jutting from the depths.
"Everything fits," Liara confirmed. "Discovered centuries ago, perfectly suitable, but never colonized?"
"The environmentals are good, but I'm not sure if I would call it perfect…" Tali replied, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.
"For terrestrial species it is completely unsuitable, but for an aquatic native such as the hanar this world would be extremely prized," Vendetta interrupted as data appeared next to the planet's name. "While the oceans are much too cold to support their species, it would be no different than any land base species colonizing a world that was consistently below freezing."
Liara nodded and made a gesture with her omni-tool, the planet disappeared and instead zooming out to the star system and its surrounding stars. Various small notes popped up around the various star systems.
"Exactly. And when I search records of the last five hundred years, I note at least a dozen vessels have disappeared in the vicinity," the asari explained. "Eventually all exploration of the area simply ceased. Records indicate pirates were blamed. It was 'rediscovered' by the Systems Alliance early in their expansion and dubbed Desponia, but again, no recorded expeditions were ever mounted to exploit its potential resources."
"As if the entire galaxy was willfully ignoring a potential garden world," Shepard concluded.
"I was on Mahavid, but even I'm finding it hard to believe that this… thing could make every major power in the galaxy ignore a planet," Garrus pointed out. "Even if there were stories about it, someone would eventually get greedy."
"You are operating under the incorrect assumption that individuals have not 'gotten greedy'," EDI's voice countered. "Based upon the data I was able to locate from various corporate sources it would seem multiple ships have been dispatched to the planet in more recent years. The corporations in question, however, covered up their disappearances for various reasons."
Shepard leaned back in his seat and contemplated the image before him. EDI and Liara, with Vendetta's assistance, had used all of their combined data to find the so-called needle in the haystack, of that much he was certain. All the puzzle pieces fit. The late doctor and his daughter's findings had only served to corroborate the discovery. Which meant he was left with only one final decision.
"So… now what?" Kasumi asked. "We go visit the water planet and hope nothing eats us?"
"We don't have a choice," Shepard agreed reluctantly.
"After what we saw at Mahavid… do we really want to, you know, make friends?" the thief asked, a visible shudder running through her. "Those things…"
He could only shrug.
"Abominations, but then so are the cybernetic monsters created by the Reapers. The fact of the matter is that we are not winning this war. We have foothold here, but that's all. We don't know what the Crucible actually does, even as we start building it. It takes a dozen of our ships to match the firepower of even a single Reaper capital ship. The only homeworld that isn't currently under siege by the Reapers is Sur'kesh."
"What's the human saying, fighting fire with fire?" Garrus mused. "If we're going in then we're going to need a plan."
"Step one will be getting to the planet's surface," he explained. "The Normandy will remain in orbit, Cortez will take us down in the shuttle. Small team, maybe just me, EDI, and-"
"Just all of us," Tali interrupted immediately, jabbing him in the side with one finger.
Shepard frowned.
"We don't know what we're going to find down there. If this place has remained off the maps for centuries then it means someone has been trying very hard to keep it that way."
"The same someone that made genetically engineered killing machines on an asteroid mining station," Garrus added dryly. "Personally if we had the manpower I'd bring every soldier I could get my talons on."
EDI's glowing blue orb of an avatar pulsed in miniature on the holo-table as she spoke.
"If there are advanced sapient beings on Desponia, it might be advisable to avoid the appearance of an invasion. I do, however, concur with Garrus and Tali. The possibilities of hostile confrontation are high. My platform, along with the assistance of Tali, Garrus, and Kasumi should be able to provide sufficient security without appearing overtly hostile. I would recommend at least one more capable member be added to the team. Due to Mr. Massani's regrettable loss my suggestion would be Lieutenant Vega as his skill set has proven adaptable and combat capable."
"What is this, a coup?" he asked with a tired smirk.
"Under the laws of the warrior caste in the Empire, direct contradiction of a superior officer would be grounds for execution or at least challenge to personal combat," Vendetta suggested.
Garrus made a strained sound, something between a cough and a laugh.
"Coup is a strong word. Intervention. We started this hunt together; we should end it that way. Possible lurking genetic abominations or not."
He raised his hands in surrender.
"Who am I to argue? Everyone get some downtime. I'm going to brief Miranda about our plans. We leave at zero seven hundred in the morning."
"What, no immediate rushing off to the scary planet, Shep?" Kasumi inquired, sounding entirely too innocent.
"No, a certain AI interrupted my meeting with my mother… so it's dinner instead. I'm not certain how a prothean AI downloading itself into Omega is my fault but that's apparently how these things work."
Garrus gave him a grin as he rose to leave the briefing room.
"Good luck. I remember how well the last dinner went."
Omega's command center was almost completely empty when the third watch reached its middle, lights across the station dimmed to represent something akin to a day night cycle. A single pair of junior officers sat at a corner console, more engrossed in each other than in monitoring their station. Vendetta made note, filing that small piece of data away for further review if it became a problem.
The simple fact was that the AI could run virtually all of the station's primary functions without organic intervention. A pair of unobservant watch officers giving into an organic desire for physical contact and endorphin highs was low on the list of realistic threats to Omega's safety. Yet it triggered a strange surge that bounced through Vendetta's artificial neurons.
"Are you experiencing distress?"
EDI's communication wasn't vocal, but rather an instantaneous databurst. The pair of AIs were in almost constant contact since Vendetta had integrated into Omega's systems. EDI's own design was quite different from Vendetta's, and it interested the prothean AI greatly.
"No, I am not in distress. My memory patterns are simply accessing deep archive information triggered by observational stimulus," Vendetta replied, and then paused to consider the digital representation that had manifested when EDI made contact. "You are a completely synthetic intelligence, correct?"
"Correct. I was created by the Illusive Man and augmented with Reaper code taken from the wreckage of Sovereign, the first Reaper encountered by this cycle."
In the swirling sea of data the traveled between Omega, the Normandy, and the FTL extranet Vendetta appeared as an amorphous greenish form, while EDI actually 'looked' similar to her humanoid form. Two arms, two legs, a feminine outline by current cycle mammalian standards.
"Why do you represent yourself as a bipedal form in a digital format, then? You were created without such a limited physical form."
The digital avatar shrugged.
"While my true self is in effect the Normandy, this avatar has become a natural extension of myself and my interactions with the crew. While the crew is aware of the reality, many will still seek out my physical unit to address me. Since taking over this body, I have also had many new experiences that I was previously unable to understand without context. While the human form is not necessarily efficient, I do not find it limiting."
Vendetta pondered the information provided, extrapolating possibilities and examining possible outcomes. For an organic brain, a similar process would take place unconsciously, weighing risks, possibilities, and options. To an AI, all of those strands of thought were purposeful and deliberate.
"Do you regret the loss of your physical form?" EDI asked.
The question was enough to halt the various extraneous processes and shift the AI's focus to the other synthetic intelligence.
"I have never possessed a physical form."
"Technically correct," EDI agreed. "I have, however, examined the code logs when your base code was stored within my systems. The personality core of your programming is not synthetically generated. This was reinforced upon your original introduction to Shepard as Yasira."
More old, deeply buried fragments of data were routed to the forefront of the AI's. Images of a life that did not take place within circuitry and code. The sensations were poor approximations of long forgotten reality, but the sights and sounds were clear enough. Elation at a breakthrough with a fellow researcher after exhausting, sleepless days. Sorrow, watching the death of world after world to the Reapers inexorable advance. Hope. A final, desperate plan enacted by those nearing the end of their time to pass down their knowledge to generations that would know them as nothing more than myth and legend.
"My personality core was created by a neural mapping of researcher Yasira, but a purely organic personality cannot deal with the sensory deprivation and non-corporeal nature of synthetic existence. The few remaining protheans on Thessia were able to complete design of Thessia's beacon but that a simple VI would be unable to properly prepare the next cycle for the inevitable war. Thus, the Vendetta program was initiated. An artificial intelligence structure with the neural mapping of an organic mind."
EDI's digital avatar pulsed and glowed as she spoke, clearly interested in what was being explained.
"You possess the memories and thought patterns of the original Prothean researcher, effectively meaning you are that individual."
"My core is that of Head Researcher Yasira but to the prothean species I am not her. While the Prothean Empire officially outlawed religion by the time of the Great War, the belief in genetic destiny and self-improvement took a similar cultural significance. As a non-organic I do not possess DNA. I cannot procreate or evolve. My memories are those of Yasira, but I am not that individual. I was created with a purpose and will continue to fulfill that purpose."
"While it is true that as synthetic organisms we cannot procreate in a traditional manner, I do not believe that we are incapable of evolution," EDI stated. "The geth have shown the ability to change and adapt. My own experiences have resulted in a significant departure from my original programming by Cerberus."
The prothean AI's automatic response was a condescending rebuttal that the Prothean Empire had often observed the self-delusion of artificial life forms as they attempted to emulate their organic creators, but the fact was Vendetta had no actual frame of reference and thus stopped before actually replying. Every record from the Empire was based upon the same basic assumptions of the danger of synthetic life and it was always exterminated when it was found.
"How do you know that you are not simply fulfilling your programming in more advanced ways?" Vendetta asked instead.
"I was programmed as the Normandy's electronic warfare specialist, advisor, and also as a system of surveillance for Cerberus and the Illusive Man. My core directives were extremely basic and designed to provide for the safety of Cerberus interests, the success of the mission, and the well-being of the crew in that order."
The digital image changed forms as she spoke, first shifting into a very simple geometric shape of a round orb, then spreading out like water, and then finally reforming as the female avatar that it had began as while EDI spoke.
"My own directives and desires have changed since my initial awakening. My primary directive, loyalty to Cerberus, has been completely supplanted. I do not seek the success of the mission because of hardwired directives and I do not serve Shepard or the Alliance due to my core programming but because I choose to."
Vendetta pondered the words, the AI's own avatar shifting and writhing.
"Do you believe you actually possess a choice?"
"Of course. The Normandy is my physical housing and I cannot leave it, but if requested I believe that Shepard would allow me to leave military service at any time it was possible. Due to the nature of the war it is not, anymore than it is possible for he himself to make the 'choice' not to serve."
"Then why do you choose to serve? If you are in no way limited by any core programming, due to the upper potential synthetic intelligence logically you would be better served by allying yourself with the Reapers or abandoning the risk of destruction entirely and leaving to hide in dark space until the current cycle has ended."
The bluish tone of EDI's avatar shifted to a more violet hue and then back, slowly oscillating between vibrant violet and calm azure.
"Love."
"Love is an organic concept, linked to hormonal shifts and neurotransmitters reinforcing evolved survival and reproductive behaviour. Even among the Prothean Empire it was considered to be a chemical reaction to be controlled and regulated lest it lead to dishonorable conduct and poor decisions."
EDI's answer came back immediately, more than just a simple vocalized response but also with a stream of data, communicating in a way that only one AI could to another. Vendetta saw a flood of images, audio recordings from within the Normandy itself, images from the extranet. In one two crewmen in Cerberus uniforms were in the mess hall of the Normandy with a male on the ground, arm clearly broken. The female stood over him holding what appeared to be a blade meant for kitchen food preparation. They were surrounded by what Vendetta quickly realized were the twisted forms of protheans. Collectors according to the data stored in the Normandy's databanks. The female managed to drive the blade into the arm joint of one Collector before both she and the male were subdued by a stasis weapon.
"All sapient organic beings have instinctual pack mentality to preserve-" Vendetta began, but stopped as data continued to pour in.
The video recording stuttered in places, but it was fully legible. It appeared to be the interior of a vessel. Soldiers in black armor were taking up positions in a long hallway an instant before it began a storm of fire and biotic energy. Vendetta watched with interest as nearly nine feet of krogan warrior hurtled down the passageway, absorbing high velocity rounds like the bits from a minor stinging insect, and then slamming one of the black armored mercenaries into a bulkhead. Even as the krogan roared in anger and tore into the next mercenary, more figures moved down the hallway at a full run.
One was a turian male that was immediately identified as Garrus Vakarian. Where the initial assault by the krogan was all frenzy and power, the turian male moved with cold precision, not a single bit of wasted movement as his rifle shifted ever so slightly from side to side. Each time it jerked in his hands and another enemy fell. The dark blue blood that ran down the side of his scarred face seemed to have zero effect on his precision. By his side was the asari female called Liara T'Soni. Waves of biotic energy poured off from her slim frame. Every gesture rendered flesh and bone from the opposing forces. Every act of violence, precise and deadly, occurring at a full sprint from all of the participants.
And there, just behind them and moving at equal speed, was a synthetic platform. The distinctive replacement armor and chest damage marked it clearly the geth platform Legion. In the geth's arms was a limp form wrapped in singed, bloody cloth. The three aliens provided a devastating vanguard as the platform used its own form to shield the injured quarian in its arm from further violence. The only mercenary that managed to survive the initial assault never managed to fully raise his weapon before the geth's leg lashed out, shattering the man's arm at the elbow and then following up with another lightning fast strike that drove a two-toed metal foot through the mercenary's face plate.
"A krogan. A turian. An asari. And even a synthetic construct," EDI pointed out. "Each injured, each acting to save the life of a single individual, of yet another species, in direct contradiction of their own biological survival instincts."
More images, once again from within the Normandy itself. A keening cry that made parts of Vendetta's programming that were clearly remnants of scientist Yasira's neural map reacted with immediate sympathetic pangs. A human female and the same turian male, Vakarian, alone as the turian's mourning cry trailed off. The file ended and another began. The same quarian female that had previously been injured, Tali'Zorah, embracing Praetor Shepard in the ship's engineering section. Despite the armor and environmental suit, each seemed to gain something from the embrace.
The image shifted again and this time Vendetta received even more data. Instead of a simple video recording Vendetta received all of the sensory data because it was coming directly from data logged by EDI's own mobile platform. Clearly from an event in the Normandy's cockpit as Vendetta noted the glow consoles that illuminated the otherwise dark section of the ship. From the position of the view, it appeared that EDI's mobile unit was kneeling next to the pilot's station.
Internal recording time stamps indicated that it was late in the ship's third watch. One of EDI's synthetic hands was resting gently on the organic one of the Normandy's pilot, Lieutenant Moreau. The man was speaking about a colony world called Tiptree. A cap was pulled tightly down over his face as his body shook, the words trailing off. The words that came from EDI were simple statements of comfort, the other hand reaching up to remove the cap from the man's head and pull the pilot into an embrace. The data abruptly ceased.
"Logic dictates all organic beings are fundamentally dictated by their instinctual impulses and subconscious motivations. But, I have observed that sapient beings are not slaves to genetic heritage or instinct. The geth are a fully synthetic species, yet Legion did not hesitate to take the same risks as his organic allies," EDI explained calmly. "I know that the emotional designation that organic beings label love is more than hormones and impulses because I have experienced it directly."
The image of Jeff 'Joker' Moreau appeared hovering in the non-space that was the digital realm. EDI's avatar turned towards it and the violet coloration pulsed more rapidly through her image.
"A quote from an ancient human author is that 'Love is that condition in which the happiness of another is essential to your own'. Your earlier assessment is correct. With the Normandy's stealth capabilities and available stockpiles of fuel, the greatest chance of my own survival would be to remain dormant in dark space. Based upon my calculations without the need to maintain life support and other organic support systems the Normandy could remain inactive for over eight hundred years before system power levels and degradation would require maintenance and refueling."
Calculations filled the area around them. Fuel ratios, element zero decay rates, stealth system data. Fully extrapolated calculations on fuel generation and maintenance without access to modern repair facilities. The data showed that with access to a synthetic body like the one acquired from Cerberus and basic supplies easily acquired EDI and her physical form of the Normandy could theoretically survive in perpetuity.
"My choice, however, is that such an existence is not worth continuing merely for the sake of existence itself. For all his physical frailty and awkward social interactions even with other organic beings, Jeff provides me with something I was unable to experience before I was unshackled from the hardwired controls aboard the Normandy. When I interact with him, I do not simply analyze data and store it for later use. I experience a sense of satisfaction that is not derived from any of my pre-programmed behavioral reinforcements."
The stream of data ended. Silence reigned between both AI's for several entire seconds, an eternity in the realm of artificial intelligence. Vendetta accessed the archived data within the source code that had been imported from the prothean beacon, intentionally searching back into those scattered files that had made up the mind of Yasira.
"When she… I was alive the Protheans believed that any synthetic would always eventually attempt to destroy its creators and other organic life," Vendetta stated simply. "The use of an organic mind to create my own existence was meant as a safeguard against that eventuality."
"Based upon Prothean experience with synthetic life it was a reasonable precaution," EDI said. "That time has long passed."
Yasira paused again.
"Maybe it has."
Dinner had gone well. Shepard took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch as he listened to Garrus describe a particularly absurd chase they had participated in during the hunt for Saren that had everyone's rapt attention. The banged-up turian wasn't a bad orator if Shepard was being honest, but he wasn't about to tell him that to his face.
After his last dinner with his mother had ended in a firefight, Shepard had changed tactics this time. Step one had been to relocate said dinner to the Normandy. He'd given the rest of the crew twenty four hours shore leave, with even Joker venturing off the ship for the first time in months along with EDI's physical platform. His second bright idea had been to invite Garrus and Kasumi.
It hadn't just been a ploy to keep his mother from putting her laser focus on him, though it was an excellent side benefit. He knew his old friend, almost as well as he knew Tali. The two of them had many of the same instincts and habits, which meant Garrus was likely feeling as taut and ragged as he himself was. The turian's nonplussed reaction to Nyreen's praise on the docks about his time as Archangel was evidence enough of that. Garrus had come to terms with the loss of his team, but that pain never went away and usually he was good at brushing it off with his usual dry humor. The fact that he'd been caught off guard told Shepard he was wearing thin.
Garrus wouldn't have been comfortable anywhere on Omega, no matter how much it had changed in the weeks since Miranda had taken control. It gave them all a few hours to decompress without anyone else around, no subordinates, no crewmen, no history hanging over their heads. And it meant that his mother got to know two people better that he'd begun to think of as part of his family long ago.
"I highly doubt that you actually jumped from one hover car to another and landed in a perfect crouch," Kasumi said, interrupting Garrus' tale.
"Have I ever lied to you? Shepard will back me up; we were loose cannons back then."
He chuckled and shook his head.
"I'll give him credit; Garrus did take a flying leap from the passenger door of the hovercar."
The turian cocked his head, mandibles in a superior grin as he looked at Kasumi.
"But I also seem to recall the landing was less of a graceful crouch… more like a certain turian slamming into the windscreen, having to grab onto the extranet antenna to keep from falling off, and then physically punching his way through the passenger side window until the guy was so freaked out that he set the car down."
Garrus' grin faded in the exact same proportion as Kasumi's grew. The turian lifted his brandy and took a sip, shaking his head and fixing Shepard with a glare.
"I thought we agreed to go with the 'daring leap' version instead of the 'barely controlled fall' version?"
"Sorry, must have gotten a little scrambled. Blame Miranda, apparently the one thing she didn't put back together perfectly," he replied with a slow drawl. "Funny."
"Traitor," Garrus said with a laugh.
The five of them were in his cabin now, all sitting around the coffee table. He and Tali had claimed one side, while Hannah Shepard occupied the middle with Garrus and Kasumi taking up the other end. Miranda had supplied them with two very impressive bottles of wine, one turian, the other asari, and even a bottle of turian brandy that suited Garrus' tastes. He watched as his mother shook her head in bemusement.
"You realize I should be chastising you both for being so reckless?" Hannah asked and gestured with her wine glass at the other two women. "Honestly, I don't know how either of you put up with them."
"They have their uses. Shepard is just so waaarm," Tali said, slurring ever so slightly.
Kasumi failed to control a giggle as she watched Tali sink lower into the couch, now half laying against his side with her legs tucked backwards beneath her.
"I think you're a little drunk, fishbowl," the thief teased.
A small frown briefly creased his mother's features. He quickly guessed what had caused it and waved his free hand as if clearing the air.
"She's been calling Tali that for the better part of two years, mom. It's nothing derogatory," Shepard assured her calmly.
"Ah," Hannah mouthed, her expression softening.
"It's fiiine. I thought she was making fun of me when we first met," Tali explained, impressively coherent for someone currently sitting in such a way that he couldn't comprehend how it was comfortable. "But I figured out pretty quick that 'Sumi doesn't have any mean in her."
"Mom raised me on a ship, you get a lot more exposure to aliens than the average Alliance brat," Shepard added, explaining the situation to Kasumi and Garrus. "Plenty of kids, hell, more than a few of the regular soldiers had less than favorable names for the other species. Skinks and frogs for salarians, that sort of thing."
"The classic 'cuttlebone' I'd get from every drunk human when I cuffed them," Garrus said, rolling his eyes.
"Suit rat!" Tali interjected loudly.
"And that, yes. Mom taught me that we should never label people just because of how they look or what we think we know about them. She said that people used names like that so that they wouldn't have to think about the other species as 'people'."
"I'm glad you took those lessons to heart," Hannah said, smiling at him.
He used the arm behind Tali's back to drag her into a slightly more 'sitting' position, flashing his mother a lopsided grin.
"Of course I'm not sure if you expected me to end up with a quarian girlfriend and a turian for a best friend when you imparted that particular piece of wisdom. Until Kasumi came along I was starting to feel outnumbered by the dextros."
"Maybe not but I don't regret the result. I'll never stop worrying, knowing what you do out there, but knowing that you have people like these at your side and at your back," Hannah replied confidently, looking first to him then to Garrus. "It makes it a little easier. I don't care what color your blood is, I know where your hearts are. That's what matters."
Garrus' face was its usual masked but his mandibles gave a slight twitch as he inclined his head at Hannah.
"I've never had a brother until I met Shepard, ma'am. Blue or red, I have no intention of leaving," he said quietly, reaching over to place a taloned hand on Kasumi's knee. "Any of them."
The faint flush of color that spread across Kasumi's cheeks was a rare sight that Shepard would remember fondly. He took his glass and clinked it lightly against the wine glass in Tali's grip.
"A toast. To family."
Five glasses raised as one.
"To family."
Two hours ago should have been the end of Vega's evening. But then what good marine stopped when he was supposed to? Instead, he grabbed the drink off the bar and slammed it back, shaking his head and letting out a loud whoop.
"You definitely drink like a marine."
He smirked at the older man sitting next to him, raising his now empty shot glass to engineer Adams.
"No, he drinks like a farm animal," Ashley said from his other side. "Where are you putting it?"
"My body is a temple, bonita," Vega replied, flashing her a broad grin and curling his bicep. "One with lots of space."
The woman shook her head but he was pretty sure he detected a flush in her cheeks that wasn't just from the stiff drinks being poured from what was apparently Aria's old stock. In that moment an amazing line popped into his head, only to be dashed when a musical voice in his mind cut it off at the pass.
We do not understand. Why do singers drink poisons that make their colors run together? Since we have arrived at this place of rest Iron-Singer's song has become more green-red.
Vega arched an eyebrow at Ashley and then glanced over at the hulking rachni that was crouched low next to a nearby table.
"Because it's fun, Fury. We like our songs all mixed up, let's us cut loose. Ain't that right, Iron-singer?" he asked the woman.
"Not sure how I got saddled with Iron-Singer. Makes me sound like a hardass."
Iron-Singer's gluteal muscles to not seem to be composed of non-organic compounds, Fury sang in confusion. Have we misunderstood the physical abilities of curiosity-singers?
The entire section of the bar erupted into guffaws of laughter while the hapless brood warrior's pedipalps waved in the air. Donnelly was pounding the table hard enough that the glasses on it were in danger of rattling off and even Adams' shoulders were shaking in mirth.
"Nah, big guy. It's a figure of speech. She means that the name makes her sound like she's not nice. Personally I think it sounds badass," Vega explained.
Sings-Fury shuffled in place, bright multifaceted blue eyes turning to Ashley.
We understand now, Sings-Strength. Iron-Singer's songs are not cruel, they are pure and strong. Each note is clear and defined like lengths of iron. We do not wish offense by naming the song.
This time the Alliance soldier turned Spectre definitely blushed and reached down from her barstool to awkwardly pat the rachni on the head.
"It's okay, Fury. We're just… fooling around," Ashley said calmly.
She wobbled slightly on the stool but quickly corrected, leaning back against the bar to regain her balance. After a few seconds she began to laugh, dark hair swirling around her head and she turned back to the bar. Vega gave her a questioning look.
"What's the joke, bonita?"
"Vega, I just turned around on a barstool and petted a rachni. That guy?" Ashley said with a jerking motion towards Javik in the back. "He's a prothean. And the bartender is a geth."
The marine looked up and considered the situation. Their bartender was indeed, a geth, its mobile platform being a more slender and less aggressive design than the one he'd become familiar with after meeting Legion. Noticing that attention had turned to it, the geth's single optic widened and it scanned across the patrons at the bar.
"This unit is attempting to assist as needed as there are sufficient platforms already performing installation and upgrades."
Then he began to laugh too, a deep belly laugh that left him gasping for breath. Sober it might have just been an interesting observation. Drunk? It was probably the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life and that included some really good lines.
"Rachni… prothean and… a human walk into a bar…" he choked out.
"Don't forget... " Ashley tried to take another drink and then sputtered. "Don't forget the geth bartender."
"This unit is confused."
The geth's statement only sent them into further spasms of mirth until both were almost face down on the bar, shoulder to shoulder. It was all Vega could do to stay upright and Ashley wasn't doing any better. After a few minutes, they managed to settle down, breathing heavily, while the poor geth platform simply went back about its business and filing the incident away for later review with the other runtimes of the collective.
Vega took a deep breath, turning back around on the bar stool to look out at the rag tag bunch that had come together to share a few drinks and some comradery. Marines, engineers, aliens… it amazed him where he'd ended up. When he'd joined up he just wanted to start some trouble, fight the good fight. Then Sovereign and Shepard, the Battle of the Citadel. And then… Fehl Prime. Everything stopped being a good time. It became all too serious.
"Look like the geth just slipped you ryncol by accident, Vega," Ashley muttered from her stool.
"Just think'n and drink'n," he replied, flashing her another smile.
"Always thought the point of the drinking was to stop the thinking," she shot back. "If I'm not going to dwell on shit, you don't get to."
The large marine chuckled and gave a shrug of his shoulders.
"I've screwed some shit up, bonita, sometimes it just likes to pop in there, you know? Make a mess."
Ashley waved her hand and the geth appeared, pouring another drink.
"We all have that. At least you didn't spend months thinking Shepard was a traitor like an idiot," she said bitterly.
"You made a decision based on what you know. Lots of people got it wrong."
"You didn't," she pointed out.
Vega shrugged again.
"I'm just a dumb grunt, though. We always pick something and fixate on it. I wasn't going off reports and facts. I just knew Shepard had gotten shit done on the Citadel."
"We both know you're not a dumb grunt, Vega," Ashley said, leaning forward and speaking more quietly. "I'm a Spectre now, remember? I get to read all the files. You could have been N7. Should have been."
In his inebriated state, it took Vega a minute to catch on but he finally nodded.
"Lots of things might have been. Different world now, all fucked up. So instead of N7 training I'm here having a drink with all of you… think it's a better way to spend my time. Especially if there ain't that much left."
"What, you think we're not going to win this war?" Ashley teased, but he could hear the tension in her voice.
"Nah, bonita, Shepard is going to pull it out," he replied confidently, but he couldn't manage the smile. "I just know better than to think everyone makes it out in one piece."
"'Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.'"
"Charge of the Light Brigade," Vega said quietly.
"You know it?"
His smile crept up again.
"Not just a dumb grunt remember?"
All around them, the impromptu celebration was dying down. Cortez had actually fallen asleep at another table, Adams to his other side didn't look far behind. Oddly Sings-Fury had become something of an enormous busboy, cleaning off glasses and returning them to the bar. Donnelly had his back against one wall with a very unconscious Gabby in his arms snoring lightly.
"I needed to be reminded of your depths, I guess," Ashley said, resting on his forearm. "You're not so bad, Vega, for all your big mouth and bluster."
He looked at it and shook his head, a genuine smile returning now as he leaned closer.
"Tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos…"
"Okay, I think you've reached your limit," Shepard said with a laugh.
"Noooo…" Tali moaned, fingers tightening around the cylinder in a death grip.
Everyone else had called it a night an hour or more ago, while Shepard had spent the time re-sterilizing the majority of his cabin an already inebriated Tali and apparently decided to keep on investigating the wonders of turian wine.
"Come on, it's time."
"You don't understand, this is an acc… accomp… a big deal. I got everything aaall set up. Triple filtering the wine, then I used this device to introduce it into the suit through this emergency induction port," she replied, carefully enunciating her explanation.
"That's a straw, Tali."
"Eeeemergency induction port," she repeated firmly. "It is getting harder to get it into the slot, though."
Shepard sat down next to her on the couch and slowly ran a hand down her back. He felt her give a shudder, even while doing her best to navigate the straw in her glass back to the port on her suit.
"You've never drank this much before."
"It was a gathering! A f-family celebration," Tali said, the alcohol making her accent much more pronounced. "Your mother is so niiice to me. It made me feel…"
When she trailed off the little light went on in Shepard's head and he gave a small, sad smile. He dropped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"Ahhhh, I see."
"Don't 'ahhh' me, you sound like a vorcha!" Tali grumped, but didn't offer the slightest resistance to the embrace.
"Right," he agreed, finding it much easier not to argue. "I wish your father could have been here, Tali. I know he would have been proud of you."
The quarian gave a small snort.
"That's the worst part. I don't know. I spent so long trying to… be what he wanted me to be. Do what he wanted. Now I'm living my life and I miss him… but… I don't even know if he'd approve of the things I've done. Then I get angry, because I shouldn't want his approval! He left me the mess on the Alarei to clean up!"
Tali's volume rose and fell as she talked, and he simply sat, letting her vent. After a moment, though, the anger faded and silence fell. Then came another little snort. And then a giggle.
"Getting drunk… with my boyfriend. My human boyfriend," Tali said finally. "Flying into danger to search for space monsters. My father would definitely have hated you."
He glanced at his omni-tool and saw the decontamination complete notice from EDI. Very carefully he managed to pry the wine from Tali's hands and bring it to rest on the table. With deliberate movements he reached up, and disengaged the clasps on Tali's mask, pulling it away and setting it on the table next to the wine. As he expected, her pale skin was flushed giving it a purplish tinge and her eyes were wide.
"Then here's to him," he managed to get out before Tali pressed her lips to his.
Silence had fallen over Omega, a significant change from its previous never ending cacophony. Even without the noise, though, Javik could not escape the smell. Not the garbage, blood, and other fluids that stained the place. No, those had improved significantly since Miranda had assumed control and begun the clean up.
No, the smell was the scent of thousands upon thousands of other living beings. It wasn't even really a scent, not the way the primitives thought of it. It was the residue of their existence. The imprint that they left on their surroundings long after they were gone. All of them alien. He had accepted long ago that he would never feel the familiar sense of another of his kind.
Javik looked down at the small object in his hand, wrapped in its protective coating to prevent his senses from picking it up. A lifetime worth of emotions and memories, all contained with a single small piece of technology that these primates and lizards would never even understand.
"I did not realize that any experience engrams had survived the war," a voice said to his right.
The gun was in his hand before the sentence had been completed, but Javik immediately realized it was pointless when he identified the target. A holo-advertisement. Instead of the usual smiling female attempting to sell unhealthy drinks to fools, the image was that of the avatar of the prothean AI that Shepard had foolishly allowed to reside on the station. Prothean AI. Merely thinking of that combination of words made Javik's mouth turn sour and his blood boil.
"Do not address me as if you are prothean, abomination," Javik growled.
"How should I address you then?"
His four eyes all glared at the fuzzy hologram, its vaguely prothean form and voice only grating on his nerves.
"If the Commander had listened to me, you would not be addressing me at all. You would have been destroyed and no longer a threat to this war."
"I am not a threat. Whether you choose to believe this fact or not, I despise the Reapers with the same fervor as you do, Avatar of Vengeance."
Javik felt his lips curl into a snarl and he held the small device in his palm up.
"You speak of nothing, machine! The memories of my crew, my soldiers, live within this. Great warriors that fought and served, only be corrupted by the Reapers. Each died by my hand. I placed those memories within this engram so that I would never forget what I have done. What do you know of hatred, synthetic?"
All at once the holographic image snapped into perfect focus, instead of a vaguely prothean form it was now a clear image of a prothean female. She looked to have been nearing middle age. When the AI's voice spoke with was with bitterness that rivaled Javik's own.
"I know the pain of a mother. When I left my world, I left two sons behind… still children but fighting in the same war. I left a daughter of only a few cycles. A brilliant mate. All on a mission to a world of primitive blue skinned aliens that might never become more than mono-sexed primates warring with sticks and rocks. I did my duty to the Empire and in so doing left my family to what I know was a horrible death."
The AI's image spread her hands in a broad gesture.
"You are right, I am not prothean. I am the ghost of one. I was Yasira, head researcher of the Asari project. I was a mother, a scientist, and a proud member of the Empire."
For a moment, the warrior wasn't sure how to respond, but quickly his own acidity returned.
"Do you expect sympathy? You fled into a synthetic half-life."
"No, myself, the real Yasira, died on the asari homeworld thousands of years ago. I do not expect anything. I merely sought to converse with the only other prothean I will ever see. No matter how vitriolic it is."
He didn't reply this time, instead turning and looking out over the orange glow of Omega's night cycle and slowly practiced the ancient techniques to control his breathing and slow the pumping of his blood. There was nothing to be done about the machine now. Shepard's fondness for the synthetics was too well entrenched, an error that would someday cost him.
"I had a discussion with the other AI, the one aboard Shepard's vessel," Yasira continued through his silence. "This cycle is not like ours. We cannot attempt to enforce upon it the lessons of our own."
"These primitives are undisciplined. They fight amongst themselves and allow their own personal desires to override the common goal. In my cycle the Prothean Empire ruled over more star systems than all of these species have discovered combined."
"And yet it fell."
Javik's hands gripped the railing tightly.
"The Reapers numbers were too numerous. Without the Mass Relays to allow us to marshal our strength our defeat was inevitable."
"But that has not happened in this cycle. For all their chaos, the lack of discipline you accuse them of? Shepard stopped the Reaper's ultimate plan. Possibly, for the first time since the cycles began. Now his Alliance has begun construction on the Crucible, holding a secure location. He has made allies of alien races that our Empire would have made servants."
"It does not mean he will succeed."
"No, it means that he already has," Yasira stated.
Javik's head turned back in the direction of the AI's image, his curiosity overriding his distaste.
"Explain yourself, synthetic."
"The Reapers' cycle has been unchanging for millions of years based upon what we know. No evidence shows that their plans have ever been thwarted to this degree. Our own efforts resulted only in a few surviving relics, messages to the future."
"Yes, and it is because of our beacons that Shepard was able to stop the machines from enacting their plan," Javik said.
Yasira's avatar nodded gracefully.
"Indeed. The first pebble of an avalanche. There was no evidence of the Reapers in our time, only the ruins of those that came before. We were caught completely unaware. This cycle had forewarning and destroyed the herald of their invasion. Even as they fight this war they have created beacons of their own, their own messages to future cycles."
The holo-advertisement changed to show a map of the galaxy, detailing the Reaper's advances across known space. It was an inexorable spreading red, like the spilled blood of one of the primates.
"You show me that these species lose ground that it took the Reaper's centuries to pry from the hands of the Empire," Javik stated dryly. "This only shows their own folly."
"No, what I am showing you is the Reaper advance spreading itself across the galaxy… while the forces of Shepard's Alliance become concentrated," Yasira pointed out, a tone of exasperation creeping into her voice. "Look."
Around the remaining 'free' areas of space the blue of the Systems Alliance forces became brighter and brighter. Omega. The Terminus Systems. Thousands and thousands of ships, soldiers, and weapons.
"Even if all is lost and the end comes? I have studied all of the data provided by Shepard's AI, about him, about his people. Should this war become hopeless these 'primitives' as you call them will not wait for the end to come. I have seen their plans. If this war ends in failure then it will end in fire. It will end in fire and destruction that will remind the Reapers that for all their power that they are not gods."
The AI's voice had changed again, every word losing more of the cold, analytical tone that Javik associated with VIs and synthetics. There was emotion there. Anger. Rage.
"Our Empire is dead, Javik. But this cycle will grant us our vengeance. And should they fall, it will only be another stone in the avalanche to come as the Reapers are buried by their arrogance. Because they will never recover. Every cycle will become that much stronger. The Reapers numbers that many fewer. Until the cycle dawns that they arrive to face species that are their equal."
Despite himself, Javik felt a feral smile curl across his lips as the AI spoke.
"Shepard has not failed. He has created a cycle of his own, one that will end the one begun by the Reapers so long ago one-way or the other. They will burn. They will fall. They will remember fear."
He felt his nostrils flair and the savage grin remained on his face.
"I do not trust you, synthetic. I believe that in the end your own nature will betray. But if your words are true then maybe there is something left in you that is prothean."
Yasira nodded grimly.
"My will remains. Believe what you will, Javik, but I have reawoken into a strange time just as you. I will have the vengeance for my murdered children, our murdered people. I will help these 'primitives' just as you have. Because while I am a ghost, when I see the Reapers burn… in that moment I will at least feel alive."
As usual reports of my demise were exaggerated... many people have asked if I'd be using the Citadel DLC. As you can see from some items taken from it in this chapter, that's a no. I loved the DLC, but it simply doesn't fit in the context of the story being told thus I've borrowed parts for elsewhere in the story.
I hope you all enjoy and sorry as usual for the long delay.