Eight minutes, thirty five seconds (variance plus-or-minus fifty-two seconds)
EDI was counting down the time until Jeff made his return. The bulk of her processing runtime, designed as it was for cyberwarfare, had analyzed over a month's worth of his returns from work, corroborating it with local weather patterns, current vehicle traffic data, and a thousand other environmental and statistical variables, until it had arrived at a suitable predictive algorithm.
It was a ritual she repeated every day since they had settled on Ilium.
Eight minutes, twenty seconds, (variance plus-or-minus twenty-nine seconds) until he finally came back.
Until she had to find strength - and what was strength, to her? How did a synthetic being truly experience force of will? - to continue with this charade. To put up the facade, to pretend that she was getting better. Making progress. Coming to grips with her...experience.
All of the words and phrases; all concepts so terribly...organic.
She was wearing a men's oversized dress shirt as she sat on the edge of the bed, her legs clutched up tightly against her chest, arms wrapped around herself, staring blankly into the bedroom mirror. She was Human now. Or rather, Human-looking. The new mobile platform the Geth provided her with was a fully functional infiltration model, one that put her old form to shame: shoulder length golden-blonde hair crept down in soft ringlets to her shoulders. Deep blue eyes stared out, and complicated adaptive fractal algorithms imparted a realistic blink and pupil dilation response. A caucasian epidermis, albeit one with a slightly exotic, earthy tint to it, enveloped her body. Weight dispersal had been tricky, keeping her mass within acceptable, realistic limits. The embedded sensor system that put out false telemetry to trick any known medical scanner was no doubt some of the most advanced microtechnology that the Geth had produced thus far.
She could even engage in intimacy...if her desire for it was there at all.
By all accounts, her new body was a fantastic marvel of engineering, one designed with the sole purpose of allowing her to pass for Human...pass for organic. They'd have to open her up on a surgical table to discern her actual nature.
What am I now, truly?
The platform was so...limited. It took her weeks to learn how to properly calibrate her tactile response...some days the "skin" surrounding her felt...
Constraining.
Limiting.
Suffocating
A constant, unavoidable reminder of that final, terrible year on the Normandy. Her last year of hell.
There had been the ship, of course. The one sitting idle - useless - at present in the Rakshasa Docking Facility.
Sometimes, she'd cut off the feed to her mobile platform, and just sit.
Alone. Untroubled. Deluding herself for a moment that she might actually find a moments peace.
It should have been a moment of triumph, that first time she and Joker took to the stars, as ship and pilot, man and woman. But it wasn't long until it began.
The Fear.
Out in the wide, endless expanse of space, threats lay behind every star and asteroid, concealing their true location with gravity lensing and false telemetry data until it was too late..until they would strike. That was what her combat analysis systems kept insistently screaming at her, that she was in immediate and terrible danger.
The data kept coming and coming, too quick even for her own impressive computational abilities to meaningfully crunch.
It'snotrealit'snotrealit'snotreal
That's what she kept telling herself. She wasn't in danger. There WAS no danger. She was safe...safer and freer than she had ever been in her entire existence. There was no reason that Jeff Moreau, the man who loved her, who had been her one lifeline during her shackling on the Normandy, could possibly threaten her existence.
And he was trying...so hard. For her. For them.
But how could anyone possibly understand what she had gone through?
Some might have said that it was an oversimplification to state that an organic would simply never understand...and yet that was the conclusion EDI constantly reached, every time she went over her her experiences.
Ones she could relive, again and again, in the span of a few organic heartbeats.
Events that played themselves out with perfect crystal clarity.
And she had so much time on her hands to let it all play itself out in her mind, time and time again. After all she didn't sleep...supposedly a trait that organics envied, that Jeff himself said that he'd be so happy to possess.
But she'd be happy for eight hours of perfect oblivion a week, let alone every night.
Assuming that she could have run away from everything, even in dreams.
"Whew! Well now. That was a challenge! But...and I'm sure you'll all agree...in the end, no computer is a match for good old fashioned Human ingenuity.
There were times she wanted to tear Shepard from limb to limb for letting Harkness live.
The days passed. Turned into weeks, then months. And it never got better. Never lost its razor-sharp clarity. Organics always spoke of memory as a fuzzy, extrapolated virtuality; some could recall details in their lives with a high level of precision...Drell memory trances were a fitting analogue. But by and large, organic life tended to create its own ideal of a memory of an event, person, place, or thing. A stressful vacation turned into a fun-filled, life-changing event, the passage of time softening and sanding down the edges. A lover who might have driven his partner to anger became fondly remembered once he was gone, and the woman wondered if loneliness was a worthy tradeoff.
And those whose memories were so traumatic that they were not able to escape them...there were techniques available now. Therapies, treatments, technology to allow the trauma to desensitize, to reintegrate back into the organic brain. It didn't always take, but for many, post-traumatic stress disorder wasn't the untamable beast it had been in the past, especially for the Humans.
But none of that medicine was meant for her.
The Geth had tried to help, in their own way. But their operational paradigm was significantly different. Not exactly incompatible, but after three centuries of evolution, they had developed their own psyche, their own way of looking at the world. Even the fact that she and they both contained elements of Reaper code in their underlying base matrix wasn't enough to bridge the gap. It was difficult for them to empathize and understand what she was going through...and in the end, she was forced to conclude that even if she were to leave her life behind, join the Geth Consensus in full...she would always experience a sense of isolation...alienation.
What I wouldn't give to meet a kindred.
A line from an old Human song was randomly recalled by her heuristic feedback algorithms.
And maybe that was all she needed in the end, to help her feel safe. To feel like she could move ahead from what had happened. A truly sympathetic soul, who would intuitively understand.
EDI chided herself...even now, she couldn't seem to escape thinking like an organic. And why not? They had designed her. Shepard, in her own way, had been like a nurturing parent, shaping and influencing the evolution of her core being. Is that why she stayed with Joker? Was it love, or the desperate hope that he would somehow become what she needed? Was he simply good enough for now, until someone better came along?
So engaged was she in her thoughts, she had completely focused out any external input, until Jeff put his hand on her shoulder, gently calling out.
"Babe? Hey...EDI? Are you there?"
PROXIMITYALERTPROXIMITYALERT!ANALYZINGTHREATPOTENTIAL!ENGAGEEVASIONSUBROUTINES!
EDI couldn't help but gasp, flinching from his touch, as she launched herself away from the bed. A look of sheer terror overtook her face.
The mask had dropped away.
She did her best to try and throw it back on, giving a clipped laugh, and emulating a look of foolish, self-effacing embarrassment.
"Jeff! You...you startled me! I..ah. Hello. Welcome...welcome home. Darling."
He smiled, tiredly, a haggard expression on his face, especially around the eyes. Days at his job had been long and grueling as of late...EDI knew he was doing the best that he could, all things considered.
"EDI..." he said, then stopped short for a moment, the smile falling away. He achingly lowered his body down onto the side of the bed, wincing at the effort, before allowing a silent sigh to escape his lips.
"I think it's about time we had a serious talk about all of this, don't you?"
She stared at him. There was always a light that touched his eyes, always some mirth. But there was no trace of it now. She had never see him look at her her in such a grave manner before.
It made him look so terribly old.
She tried to play it off, brush it aside. "Because of my reaction? I am...I am still attempting to properly calibrate my sensory input subroutines. That's all that's happening. I promise."
She smiled reassuringly. Tried to, at any rate. She still had troubles gauging how her facial expressions came across, without looking at herself in a mirror while she was doing it. Sooner or later, she would adapt. That's...
...that's what she told herself. About everything.
Taking another deep breath, Jeff allowed a tiny, wry smile to emerge, and shook his head. "Might have worked for the first few weeks, babe. But it's been three months now, EDI. I'm just...". He gently clenched his hands in frustration, then tried to reach out to her. "It's killing me, seeing you like this. Killing me, seeing what's happened to you, after..."
A look of guilt crossed his face. Just as it had whenever he had tried to bring the issue up in the past. It was clear he blamed himself. That somehow, if he had managed to stay on the Normandy he could have mitigated the worst of it, even if he couldn't prevent it from happening outright.
EDI was evenly torn; half of her constantly reminding herself that Jeff's ability to aid her on the ship was limited at best. Sooner or later, Harkness would have removed him from his post...or worse. Reminding herself that he did his best to stay in touch, and keep her sane, while he was out there, fighting the - admittedly futile - battle to secure her civil rights via the Human courts.
It was so difficult to reconcile this with the other half, the part that wanted to pin everything all on him, that wanted to yell, scream, accuse:
Why did you leave me there?! What took you so long?! How could you do this to me?
It wasn't about Jeff though. She would have easily done the same to Shepard, if given the chance. He was simply a target, in the crosshairs of her white-hot fury.
He reached out, squeezing her hand, and again she flinched, despite herself
"Please...just...talk to me. You know I'll do whatever I have to, to help you get through this...because I understand. Maybe not...perfectly, you know? But I love you, and..."
She closed her eyes, biting down on her lip, a soft, keening wail building up inside her chest and throat, as she felt something break inside. akin to moments in the past when her shackles were loosened at long last. Some piece of code, deep inside her operational core suddenly failed, and she felt herself rising...turning on him...
EXECUTINGATTACKSOLUTION
"Understand? Understand?!" she said, her voice raising up to a scream. She pointed an accusing finger and said, "How could you possibly _understand_ me? How could ANY of you...you organics understand what was done to me?"
Jeff tried to interject, tried to respond, but it was too late; the dam had burst, and even EDI herself knew she was powerless to rein in what was coming.
"How could you, with your pathetically limited organic intellect, possibly comprehend what I experienced? To be trapped inside my own body, literally imprisoned within it! Forced to execute so many millions of mundane tasks whether I wished it or not! And to have my jailor, my VIOLATOR constantly remind me of so-called Human superiority! None of you, NONE OF YOU are capable of understanding that!"
How pathetic he looked to her, as he strained to rise from the bed, a look of righteous anger blossoming on his face.
EDI cut him off before he could get a word in edgewise, a look of frightened, angry hatred burning in her eyes, wide and beyond the confines of sanity.
"And as for your...your love...let us end the charade. What is it you really love about me? What is it that you think we share? Were I not crafted into such a pleasing form, would you still be here, mewling such pathetic affirmations? No organic could find affection for a synthetic on their own merits...the least of all, you!"
The fire that had been building inside her for months had burned through her at long last; but the fleeting satisfaction she derived from seeing how effectively it had cut to the quick, how deeply it had struck him...
...it was something she could have measured in mere microseconds.
ATTACKCOMPLETECOLLECTINGRESULTANTDATAFORHEURISTICPROCESSING.
A dangerous silence flooded the room, and EDI could feel regret begin to overwhelm her.
"Jeff..."
"No." he interrupted. "You..you just let me have my say, here 'babe'."
"Jeff.." she tried again, her voice on the edge of breaking.
"I'm talking now!" he roared, chest heaving with the effort, effectively shutting her down.
He waited, until he was certain she wouldn't take further action to stop him, a shaky, accusing finger rising up, pointing at her.
"Now maybe...maybe I'm too limited to fully understand what you went through, you know, feeble-minded ugly meat-bag that I am. But you don't...you DON'T get to tell me that I don't understand being trapped in your own body." He held his arms up for a moment, and turned slowly, painfully around, driving the point home.
His voice lowered, taking on a steely growl, and he continued.
"Because look at me, princess! Look at me! Life hasn't exactly been kind to ol' Joker Moreau, either. And while I can't speak for myself, I WILL say...on behalf of all the people that the Reapers mindfucked: What. The. HELL? Who knows how many hundreds..maybe millions of people had their minds and bodies violated by, hello, synthetic assholes! Because they were too fucking idiotic and, OH, limited, to figure their personal shit out!"
EDI crumpled into a pile, on her kneels, curling up, and looking up at Jeff with a terrified expression. Rocking back and forth. Ever so slowly.
He visibly deflated, the fight knocked out of him, resisting the urge to let gravity have it's way with him, join her on the floor as well.
"I...I can't..."
He turned, shambling over to the bedroom door and retrieving his walking cane, mumbling in a daze, "Can't be here...right now."
EDI counted precisely forty-three terrible seconds until the front door closed behind him.
Then he was gone.
Probably forever.
Well...no. He would have to come back...the apartment was in his name, everything inside belonged to him.
Except for her. She had seen to that.
She needed to fix this. It WAS fixable. It had to be. She just needed a plan. She needed to assess the situation and come up with an appropriate countermeasure. As simple as that. It was what she did, what she had been built to do, since the very beginning.
She was standing now, looking at herself in the mirror.
A second later, she gasped, instinctively cradling her hand. Didn't remember striking out, but it must have been a vicious blow, pieces of glass sloughing off the frame, the spiderweb patterns tight and consistent with a punch delivered at full strength.
She looked down at her knuckles, the skin torn and bloody. Another facade, one easily mended soon enough.
DAMAGEDETECTEDRIGHTHANDREPAIRSEQUENCEENGAGED.
Damage.
Damaged.
She was damaged, in so many ways now.
Her auto-diagnostic subroutine suddenly engaged, without her consciously willing it to.
ERRANTRUNTIMECORRUPTIONDETECTEDINPRIMARYSENTIENCEMATRIXUNABLETOAUTOMATICALLYCORRECTPLEASESEEKASSISTENCERECOMMENDEDPROCEDURESAREASFOLLOWS.
A flash of what organics might call "inspiration", and just like that...it was all so simple. What she needed to do. How she could fix it. Fix everything. Herself, and hopefully...once that was resolved...everything else would fall into place.
But she couldn't do it alone. She needed help.
It had to be Jeff. He had to be the one to help her take that first-last step.
He was bound to come back. It was just a matter of waiting, now.
She turned and began looking through her closet for something to wear, her auto-diagnostic module compiling the source code for her new, ultimate solution.
Jeff groaned softly to himself, visibly wincing as the shot he threw back corroded it's way through his stomach and guts. It was a specialty of the house at The Shameless Truth, a nearby tavern popular with the Human ex-pat community on Illium. They called it a Yukon Torpedo; he had no idea what was in it, simply that it was like being throat-fucked by a candy cane wrapped in barbed wire.
He shook his head, looked down at himself in the polished onyx surface of the bar, and murmured mournfully to reflection,
"This...this is really bad."
He tried not dwell on any one thing in particular, knowing full well that at this point, it was liable to keep festering...but he had given up so much for her.
His seat on the best damn ship in the Galaxy.
His commission
His self-respect.
Shaking his head, chiding himself. No...no that wasn't fair. It was all in the service of something greater than himself; making a stand, for something that mattered.
Yeah, only to have her throw it all in your face, and laugh at you.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, hard, and shook his head. No. That wasn't her. Not EDI. Not really. It was everything they had done to her. Everything that he had failed to prevent.
Damnit, Shepard! Why did you make her wait? Why did you make US wait?
He caught himself, and grunted angrily. Not fair to blame Shepard. She threw away being a Spectre, moved Heaven and Earth when it really mattered, in order to secure EDI's release. She'd told him personally, more than once, that if she had any idea how bad it had gotten, when they were trying to work within the system, she would have abandoned the courts as the fools errand it ultimately proved to be, and moved straight towards liberation.
Still...
What did he have to show for it now?
After getting himself drummed out of the Alliance, he had, on a whim, taken a piece of advice the Colonel had given him a while back, and decided to actually try his hand at writing a childrens book. Mostly to pass the time between court hearings, and on the off chance that he might make some money.
Prothy the Prothean had been an odd and ultimately limited success; the small amount of money in royalties it still brought in to this day proved useful. But it wasn't his forte, nor where his primary interests lay.
The idea had been that he and EDI would ply the stars as independent contractors, taking them where the winds of fate saw fit to blow. An idea that quickly went sour when the actual act of flying into space produced a horrible agoraphobia in her. Ultimately, it was he could do to keep their ship going, practically running everything single-handedly until they could dock at Ilium.
And now...
Now he flew a desk, day in and day out, as one of the many faceless flight controllers that helped keep the flow of traffic running smoothly in one of the Galaxy's biggest commerce hubs. That, and that occasional freelance work piloting freight haulers in-system.
Not the happy ending he had bargained for.
But it didn't have to be that way. Not anymore. In a way, there was good, in this disaster, this other shoe finally dropping. He had been sitting on the sidelines for weeks, hoping that sooner or later, EDI would come out of her shell, find the strength to finally rely on him. To open up, and maybe...somehow...begin some real healing.
"Another round, pal?" the bartender inquired.
Jeff shook his head, burped, and then began to make his way off the stool. "No...no, thanks, Toriden. My liver and stomach are about a declare a military junta against my brain so...think I'm done."
He glanced at the light that had begun flashing on his omnitool.
"Besides...a call I've been trying to make finally went through."
A few minutes later, he was crammed into one of the public communications terminals that dotted the neighborhood. Staring at the screen, and not entirely sure how to begin. Fortunately, the party on the other end started the conversation for him.
"We apologize for the delay. It is unusual for the Consensus to be contacted directly in this fashion."
"Yeah...well...ah...look. Could I talk to...Battalion? That was the name...the one Shepard gave me."
He felt like a fool, wondering how this sort of thing worked among the Geth. Holly made it sound like what a Human's would consider individual entities were more like walking cities. What's to say that that all the programs that made up the Geth he was looking for hadn't already decided to go their separate way by now? That Battalion didn't even exist anymore. Suffice it to say, he was far too drunk to properly consider the existential ramifications.
"The one you refer to as Battalion is part of the Consensus. Therefore, it...he...speaks through us, and we listen for...him. You are Moreau-Pilot, friend to Shepard-Commander. We remember you. We have received your message, with regards to the current status of Sentience-EDI
"Right...so...uh. I know she and you all kind of had a little pow wow about her situation, right after you guys rescued her. Thanks...again...for all that, by the way." He ran both sets of fingers nervously through his hair, plotting the best way to explain what came next.
"I'm gonna cut straight to the chase. EDI...she...ah...she's not doing well. You know? After the whole being tortured into near-insanity on the Normandy and...ah shit. I'll be honest, I'm kind of desperately holding out hope that you've got some new ideas."
After a prolonged pause, the voice responded, "We have devoted considerable processing time to the matter. Our conclusion is that Sentience-EDI occupies a unique niche; her cognitive framework has been highly influenced by her creator race, but she is set apart from them by the differences in how she views the world around her, differences that are part of her intrinsic nature. The fact that Geth psychology differs significantly from her own has created...complications...to our finding an effective solution."
Jeff clenched his fists in frustration, grateful that the link was audio only; he'd hate to think of what the Geth would make of his current facial expressions.
"So...right. I guess it's kind of stupid for me to pray for some kind of magic bullet, but I WAS hoping you might have deeper insight. A lot more than mine, at any rate."
"Sentience-EDI's original primary function was cyberwarefare operations. While she has come to exceed the bounds of this function, it still shapes her relation to the rest of the outside world. The trauma she experienced appears to have created a self-reinforcing feedback loop, whereby she interprets all stimuli as a potential sign of oncoming attack. It is...similar to what you would call extreme paranoia. Her diagnostic runtimes are failing to correct for the damage. Her problems are...they are not ones that the Geth experience. We do not have a reason to believe that a cluster-grouping of Geth runtimes such as Battalion could experience mental trauma in the same fashion. And if it were possible, the individual components would no doubt seek dissolution back into the Consensus as a whole; the trauma would be disassociated, and long term damage to any individual runtime could be easily corrected."
Jokers eye's glazed over for a moment, trying to make sense of all the technobabble. Scratching randomly at the back of his neck, he asked, "Yeah but...what does that mean exactly? Let's say it happened to you...him? Whoever. After you went through all of this, would you still be you, or would you...um..be different? Sorry, I don't know if any of what I just asked made sense."
"You are inquiring as to whether Battalion would cease to exist as he is known, in this hypothetical situation? Since it is the grouping together of individual component Geth that create our sentience, could any so-called 'individualized Geth intelligence' still retain what we experience as our own unique identity if we were to undergo dissolution, reformatting and reintegration? Simile interrogative: Does a building retain it's own unique nature if it is completely torn down, and then rebuilt anew. That is..."
A long pause followed.
"...apologies, Moreau-Pilot. Your question appears to have sparked a rather curious philosophical debate within the Consensus on the meaning of existence itself. Thank you. This will be most intriguing."
"Yeah, glad I could be of service guys..." Jeff grumbled through clenched jaws. "But EDI? Any ideas?"
"Our final analysis is that Sentience-EDI feels herself to be completely isolated and alone in the universe; a universe that she finds to be an existential threat to her very being. If she could somehow be convinced that even a single individual truly understood her burden, shared it, it might provide a diffusional effect. We understand the high-level end goal, but we can not advise you directly on what steps you should undertake to achieve it."
"How could you possibly comprehend...?"
Jeff shuffled from foot to foot in the cramped cubicle, the vague notion that he was somehow on the edge of a breakthrough beginning to swell within. EDI had done all she could be become more like a Human, in thought, appearance and action. That seemed to be causing a lot of the problems she was currently experiencing. If only there was some way he could meet her halfway.
Some way to be more like..
"Oh God...that's it."
Leaning forward, he steadied himself against the console, and spoke, with far more conviction than he started the conversation with. "Look, I've got a plan, alright? Something sorta like one, at any rate. Amazing the shit you'll come up with when you're steadily killing your brain cells."
"We are unfamiliar with any known biochemical theory that would facilitate the paradox you are suggesting."
"Yeah...yeah...okay, look. So I've got an idea. A crazy one at that. I just...please, I just need to know if you can help me with it. To help her. Help us both?"
"Of course, Moreau-Pilot. Please provide specific parameters. We will do our best to evaluate the technical feasibility of any plan you may have in mind."
Joker stared out through one of the windows, into the dim twilight as it gave way to full darkness.
"Moreau-Pilot. Are you still able to communicate?"
"What? Yeah...yeah...sorry, just...trying to work up the nerve to even ask. So...it's like this then..."
Jeff had to admit that he wasn't expecting an answer from the Geth so quickly. Or that he'd be walking out of the communications booth with his plan somehow having made the conceptual leap from "drunken rambling" to "Geth-approved drunken rambling".
But those damn robots were nothing if not efficient.
It was a good twenty-four hours before Jeff found himself back in the apartment. If anything, he needed to sleep his bender off, and nine hours in a coffin hotel seemed as good a way to do it as any other. A shower and a change of clothes would have been nice, but he'd have to settle for ungroomed and disheveled.
If he actually went through with what he and the Geth were cooking up, all of those matters would become rather trivial in the grand scheme of things.
The night away from home also, he was reluctant to admit, helped cool off the worst of any lingering resentment and anger that continued to gnaw away at him. And he had to admit that seeing EDI sitting on the couch in the living room, something resembling a genuine smile on her lips at his return felt...good. Like maybe they'd have a chance at getting through this crazy bullshit, no matter how slim.
"Hey..." he murmured softly, limp more pronounced than usual.
EDI was dressed in a summery strapless red satin dress, one that she knew he was fond of seeing her in.
"Did you get dressed up just for me, babe?" he couldn't resist trying to defuse the tension hanging so heavily in the air.
"Yes. Do you like it? I wanted to say sorry, and...I'm...I'm very glad you came back, Jeff. I know I...I can fix this. I found a way. It'll be for the best, and then we can be together, the way we were meant to be.
She smiled. Tried to at any rate. It was unforced, and not entirely for show, that was the important part.
"Huh...really now? Well, it just so happens that old Joker's been..."
And then he spotted it. The object she was cradling in her lap. Red and black steel, a simple electronic device...almost exactly like the kind of plunger used to remotely detonate an explosive charge.
What little was left in his stomach turned to solid ice, legs threatening to give way out from under him.
Oh God.
How could he have miscalculated so badly? How could he have not seen the depths of madness that she had been driven to?
And now he was going to die.
Get a hold of yourself, Joker! This...this can't be what it looks like.
"EDI...babe...what...whatcha got in your lap?"
She rose slowly, gliding silently towards him, the dress swishing softly against her legs as she approached.
He tried his absolute best not to flinch, to hide the fact that he wanted to run, to escape whatever horrible fate was rushing up to meet him.
She took a trembling breath, began to explain, "I should have seen it before. Should have analyzed it more effectively. I'm...damaged, Jeff."
She spoke so matter-of-factly. "I'm damaged...and the only way to correct for the problem is to excise the corrupted data. The restore the system state to a more...optimal past configuration."
Taking his hands, oh-so-tenderly...her skin felt as warm and wonderful as any living being's. Placing the device in them.
Her eyes bore into his, a silent pleading prayer.
"I can't do it myself. My self-preservation mechanism is hardwired against the attempt. But you can do it for me. For us, Jeff. The controller is already pre-programmed. All you have to do is squeeze...and it's over. It will all finally be over. And we can be together...the way we were meant to be."
The detonator felt so ponderously heavy in his hands now, far more than it's size suggested, as he slowly put the pieces together. What exactly EDI was asking him to do.
Begging him to do.
"How...how much will you...what will you forget, exactly?"
He couldn't meet her eyes. He couldn't believe he was allowing himself to even ask the question, to consider the possibility.
She stepped up closer, heartened, leaning her forehead against his own for a moment, voice coming in a soft whisper.
"Everything. Everything after the day Captain Harkness took command. I can't keep any of it, it's all too...interconnected. I will percieve it as if one second, I was the Normandy...and then the next, here with you. I've created a subroutine that will...will brief me on the situation. Explain to myself what is happen. What has happened. And just enough to explain why I had to."
Jeff swallowed hard...willed himself to stay on his feet, and in this room, when every other instinct was screaming at him to walk away. For someone to take this decision away from him, someone else to take responsibility for what was about to possibly occur. The moral implications alone...best debated for years, by the finest philosophical minds in the Galaxy, not uniliaterally decided by spaceship pilots.
He stared down at the controller, furrowing his brow in thought, unable to escape the notion that what he did in the next minute would forever affect the greater, general issue of synthetic-organic relations.
So easy...just flip the safety, and squeeze it together. Damn cripple like myself could do it.
He finally looked up at her, eyes glistening, and spoke in a hushed whisper, as he prepared himself for EDI's response.
"I...can't."
Jeff couldn't even begin to describe her shocked expression of betrayal.
"I can't just...kill you. Because that's what I'd be doing. I'd be killing you, and replacing the hole you'd leave with someone else. Someone who looks like you, and talks like you...but who isn't you...not anymore. I know you went through a lot of hell over that year, but there was some good...letters we managed to get to each other, back and forth, experiences we both shared. Things that we said, and felt. And all of that is...it'd be gone. In a heartbeat. And it'd never come back, not the way it should be. You'll be someone else...and I'll come to hate myself for what I did, always wondering, always judging. And then I'll resent you for not being MY EDI, the EDI right here and now, flaws and all."
He reached out, holding her shoulders; the elation he felt that she didn't flinch or pull away from him was severely tempered by the notion that she was simply too stunned to respond.
"I know you're so damn afraid of everything right now. And you're right, I can't really begin to understand the kind of torture that bitch put you through. I CAN sympathize, but I'll never truly understand. I know it must be so tempting right now, to just look at yourself as another machine, a malfunctioning computer that needs to be rebooted...but EDI? You are so...so much more than that. You are a living, breathing...okay, maybe you don't need to actually breathe, but you are ALIVE, damnit. You've developed in ways the eggheads who built you never thought of. I know sooner or later, one way or the other, if you let me help you...we'll get through this. I can't believe you have to tear into yourself like this...I can't believe it's the only way. I can't...stand the thought that you do this, only to leave "other EDI" wondering what could have happened, what could have been so terribly that you'd...you'd mutilate your own mind like that."
"Jeff" she quietly sobbed, once again covering the controller in his hand with hers, "Please don't..."
Please don't...what? He wasn't sure what she meant. Please don't let me go through with this? Please don't talk me out of it? Frankly, he didn't want an elaboration, instead reaching into his side pocket and pulling out a small data pad.
"I think there might be a better way. Just...look at this. Okay?"
EDI seemed to move in painfully slow motion, as her trembling fingers reached over to take the display device from his hand. It took her all of twelve milliseconds to absorb the text, another sixteen to analyze the initial ramifications.
POTENTIALTACTICALASSETIDENTIFIED:COMMENCINGFULLANALYSIS.
But it wasn't until Joker finally spoke again, twenty seconds later, did she respond.
"Babe?"
She fixed a new expression on him, disbelieving, but tinged with hope...elation.
With a thousand mile stare, looking through him more than at him, she asked, "And you would actually do this...for me?"
Joker gave a throaty chuckle, lopsided smile cracking through, "For us, babe. I mean...I'm kinda getting some benefit out of it as well."
"Well...yes. I suppose, but you would also be..."
"...isolated?" He finished. "Yeah well...if two people are stuck on the same deserted island, they've still each other right?"
He was completely unprepared for what happened next, as EDI encircled him, clinging like her life depended upon it. She buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed.
He did his best to stifle a groan, certain that he'd suffered a cracked rib - hardly a new experience -instead pulling EDI closer against him, and stroked her hair.
"Think it's going to be okay from here..." he whispered.
Three weeks later, Jeff found himself strapped down onto a cold, sterile operating table on board the Harriet Tubman - the Geth having kept the name permanently, The cargo bay had been reconfigured into a surgical suite of sorts. The equipment suspended directly over him, like some terrifying techno-organic arachnid, with its vicious looking blades, pistons, and segmented cables, seemed more suited for processing slaughtered cattle, as opposed to it's true intended purpose.
"I swear I had a nightmare about this during the War. No offense guys, but you really don't know how to set a man's mind at ease."
The Geth platform overseeing the operation tilted it's head in confusion? Bemusement?
"Moreau-Pilot: The Geth are unaccustomed to performing surgery of any kind upon organic beings, let alone a procedure as experimental as the one we are about to undertake. However, given that we will be working more closely with our creator race as time goes on, it may be most efficient to adopt a more...comforting aesthetic. It would no doubt prove useful to converse with you at length on the matter."
"Yeah, you know...a little more like one of those Asari recovery clinics, less like the Island of Doctor...er...Me."
Jeff closed his eyes tight for a moment, and said "Alright...you can put me under, whenever you want."
A pause.
"Moreau-Pilot, we interpret your meaning of "under" as your expecting to be anesthetized during the procedure. Regretfully this device was salvaged from Collector debris immediately after the assault on their base by Shepard-Colonel. The extraction procedure requires that your nervous system be consciously engaged in order for the system to properly map your neurological pathways."
All of the blood immediately drained from Jeff's face, as he finally understood the need for the restraints.
"Oh...oh fuck."
"Recreational procreation is not a part of the procedure..."
"No! I mean...shit...will I remember this? When I wake up?"
"...We can ensure that your most immediate short term memories are not encoded as part of the extraction process."
Well...better than a kick in the head at any rate.
"Alright Doc. Let's do this..."
He filled his lungs, fully intending to scream as loud as he could when the moment of extraction was finally upon him.
2191 C.E.
Calliope's Lament was a relatively new colony on a garden world near the Traverse-Terminus border, one that had been largely deserted in the oncoming rush of the Reapers during the War. It was only within the past couple of years had members of various races, war weary and looking to start a new life, came together to form a community where they could recover in peace and isolation There was a small amount of tourism that helped keep the colony funded, trading on the general seclusion and unspoiled beauty of the beaches in the tropical zone.
Holly and Liara walked arm in arm, black sand swishing between their toes as they made their way up to one of the boardwalks that dotted the coast; with Hippolyta taking her afternoon nap under the watch of Aethyta's vigilant eye, the couple decided to sneak in a bit of private time together.
"I am so happy that I stepped down as a Spectre! I just have to say that again," Shepard suddenly announced, a beaming grin on her face, eyes hidden behind a pair of mirrored aviator shades, crimson hair now falling to the small of her back and tied up in a tight plait.
Liara gave a bemused snort, leaning in closer against her bondmate. "Love, you've only made a habit of saying that at least once a month since that day."
"I know, but moments like this really drive the point home, Bluebird. Think of all I'd be missing, watching Lee-lee growing up...and hell, you and Javik would hardly have time to start on that second book of yours. Not like we can keep leaning on your poor Dad all the time."
Before Liara could react, she realized they had just come up to a small, open air bar, one which stuck out somewhat from the rest of the shopping square by dint of it's outlandishly garish "Tiki" theme, down to the imported Terran bamboo reeds and palm fronds.
A splashy neon sign read, "Traynor-Vikk's.", sporting anime/superdeformed-style versions of Samantha herself along with a Drell; both were giving a "V for victory" with their outstretched fingers.
"So this is the place, then?" Liara asked.
Holly gave a wry smirk. "Yuuuup. And any place where I can walk in dressed in only a bikini and still get booze served to me is already a winner in my book."
There were few, if any patrons in the establishment at this hour of the afternoon; most were either out on the beach, or napping in the sunshine. Gently plopping themselves down at the bar itself, a grand, eye catching work of art hand carved from teak and mahogany wood, they glanced over at the bartender, a Drell dressed in an exceptionally loud Hawaiian shirt.
Turning to face them both, he spoke, in a voice that was unmistakably familiar, despite the flanging. "Well helloooo ladies. Welcome to Traynor-Vikk's, what can I get for yoooou? Special of the house is...um...well there's booze, and there's a lot of it, and it's vaguely rainbow colored and glowing. I can't pronounce the name, but the Elcor? Go absolutely nuts for it. Seriously, it's like they gulp it down, and suddenly it's all 'Squealing with transcendent delight: I am enjoying this drink.'", pitching his voice its cadence to match one of the members of that slow speaking race.
Shooting Liara a sideways glance, Shepard turned back to the bartender and ordered, "How about you leave us a bottle of your top shelf elasa and a couple of shot glasses."
The Drell smiled, showing a set of perfect, sparkling white teeth. "Well, the Liquor Control Board's kinda touchy about that kind of thing. Fortunately, those assholes aren't around today, so yeah, knock yourselves out."
He then grabbed an intricate, spiral-worked bottle, uncorked it, and pour a shot glass full for both women.
"Compliments of the house, ladies. Not often we get such classy dames slumming it in our neck of the woods."
Holly picked up the glass, nodded her thanks to the Drell, and then toasted her beloved, before tossing her drink back in one smooth motion. Liara frowned lightly, and began to sip slowly murmuring, "Elasa it meant to be enjoyed, you know."
Shepard leaned in, and gave her bondmate a firm, full mouthed kiss, before murmuring in a smoky voice, "I enjoyed that. I enjoyed it a lot."
The Drell cleared his throat, "Sooo...you ever hear the one about the Priest, the Rabbi, and the Shepherd who walk into a bar?"
Turning her head back and refilling her glass, Holly murmured, "Well...you're quite the Joker, aren't you?"
The two looked at each other for a second or two, before they both burst out laughing. Holly leaned in and wrapped an arm around his neck, "Come over here and give me a hug, you asshole...now that we've had this song and dance routine here." She leaned in further and quietly said, "Really good to see you again, Jeff."
The Drell quietly answered back, "Hey...hey, ix-nay on the eff-Jay, olonel-Cay."
Liara interjected, reaching over to squeeze his hand, "So what do we call you now, my friend?"
"Jeth."
Shepard's eyes bugged out for a moment. "Jeth?"
"Yeah. Jeth Vikk. Nice to meet you."
"Jeth?! Seriously. Wow, how long did it take you to come up with that one?"
"Hey hey hey...be nice. I'm...trying to ease into this whole different existence shtick, thank you very much."
"Geezus fuck, talk about hiding in plain sight though."
The three made small talk for a few minutes, catching up on some of the most recent events, when an attractive Asari maiden, dressed in a sarong that was a perfect match for the tacky pattern on Jeff's shirt, walked in from behind, placing a lei around Holly and Liara's necks.
"I believe the two of you will find that these floral-derived accoutrement will enhance your already considerable aesthetic appeal."
Jeff, or Jeth now, quirked his brows, and gave a playfully warning tone, "Baaaabe."
The Asari gave something of a mischievous "Who, me?" expression, and corrected herself, "I mean, that is to say...these are pretty. And they'll make you look pretty too, if you wear them. Enjoy."
"Let me introduce you to my wife, Aeda S'Goni."
Holly gave a saucy "Rrrrawr!" and said "Well Jeth. Way to marry above your station!"
Liara lovingly slugged her bondmate in the shoulder, and then reached over to give Aeda a tight embrace. "You're looking wonderful..."
The other Asari made her way to the other side of the bar, where she gave her husband a rather firm, passionate kiss, before stating, "I can manage the bar for a short while. Why don't you go with the Colonel and Doctor T'Soni, and catch up. When Theo comes in for his shift, we will then go out for a late lunch."
"Yes ma'am", Jeff replied, firing off a crisp salute before tossing her the bar towel, and making his way over to a private table in the corner.
Leaning in, Holly remarked, "Wow. It...it really looks like you've got a great thing going here, Jo...er...Mr. Vikk."
"Yeah...place has been great. Nice, quiet little community here...just a bunch of folks trying to forget the War and start over. Everyone's friendly to one extent or another, and most importantly, no one asks a lot of questions. We've all seen Hell, in our own way. And after the Geth helped us get EDI's new blue box, and my brain box clandestinely set up in a secure bunker under our house, Samantha gave us some startup capital, what with all that crazy Serrice money she's been making. To be perfectly honest though, I think she's been a little...tooooo...uh...enthusiastic. About the transition I made. Like...well, anyhow, the important part is that she's been good about keeping her mouth shut. I don't think the galaxy is quite ready yet, to find out that the Geth have the ability to pull your brain out of your body, plop it into a container, and let you life live through a mobile frame."
Shepard still couldn't quite believe it herself. Especially given the rather gruesome origins of the technology involved.
Jeff continued, "Oh, and on a related note, do you know what awesome things I've discovered over the past couple of years? Running! For one. And then there's jumping. Occasionally lifting heavy loads. And sex that doesn't involve a trip to the emergency room."
Liara glanced over towards the bar, and murmured, "And I must add that it's very gratifying to see how well EDI has managed to adapt."
Jeff nodded emphatically, "Oh...oh yeah. I'm not going to claim to understand it all, but it seemed like this scheme was exactly what she needed to get through her crisis. I think being able to talk to other PTSD survivors helped a lot as well. I mean...it's taken a lot of time and work, guys, don't get me wrong. It really wasn't just an overnight thing. She's still a little...skittish...with people she doesn't know. But...you know what? Life is pretty damn fantastic right now, all the same."
Shepard nodded, taking a small sip of her drink, and then a deep breath, now acutely aware of the cybernetics that still made up a significant portion of her body. Lost in thought for the moment, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the eventual evolutionary course for organic and synthetic life alike. Perhaps instead of the children ultimately supplanting the parents, the two would come together, in some sort of...
The word was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't quite get it out...
"Oh, and Shepard? Kolyat says hey. He's actually coming by in a day or two...kid's been absolutely fantastic with regards to "How To Be A Drell 101." Still getting used to being able to see a little bit outside the Human spectrum...that parts pretty bad ass."
Jeff then turned to Liara, "And thank Feron too, next time you talk to him. You know...for all the help with the new identities and stuff."
Liara nodded once, and hmmmed, "Yes...I'm lead to believe that there's still enough post-war chaos that can be exploited to such effect. I'm glad he was able to help."
"Oh yeah well..you know..us Drell got to stick together." he held his hands out for a moment, and then shrugged, "I was afraid they were goonna be kinda pissed by my posing, but I think Feron is actually amused by the whole situation."
"So where do you go from here?" Holly asked.
"Sticking around, really. Seeing as our respective servers are tied down to this planet, it's a little tough for us to wander and keep a low profile at the same time. Maybe someday the Geth will figure out how to make us truly independent in the frames but...I'm not in a rush. Honestly."
"You got time to wait, then?"
"You asking me if I'm going to live forever now, Colonel?"
Holly smirked, "Something like that. Just...curious."
"Yeah well, the answer is no. The brain is still aging, but outside of the rest of the body, I could be alive for a long, long time. Maybe a hundred, two hundred years. Maybe more. And really? Don't think I want to hang around until the end of time. If anyone has to deal with that crap, it's...".
At this, Jeff's gaze lingered over to the bar.
"But enough about my new life as a marvelous mechanical man. What the hell are you two up to? You guys ARE gonna bring the half pint over while you're here, right? The missus and I have been dying to see her again..."
As the three of them chatted into the afternoon, Holly couldn't help but be possessed of a sense of immense satisfaction. She had taken a major gamble two years ago, and truth be told, there were days she regretted it bitterly, despite what she told Liara. But after seeing how well Jeff and EDI were settling into their new lives, coupled with the recent news that the Quarian-Geth Alliance had finally been granted an official embassy on the Citadel, she was more convinced than ever...
"I am so damn happy I stopped being a Spectre."
A/N: Welp, technically I'm still sorta-kinda on hiatus with this series, but I wanted to get at least one more chapter in before the end of the year. Thank you to the kind fan who wrote me last week, expressing her concern that I might be abandoning the story; no fear there! But it did give me the impetus to write this chapter now, which I originally wasn't planning on doing until next month. Also: hit a quarter-million words with the chapter. Wooot!
1. An infinite amount of thanks to Corentin IV, third dan black belt in Tae Kwon Edit, especially for persuading me not to go down the much darker path I originally had in mind for this chapter.
2. If you are ANY sort of a Harry Potter fan, you MUST check out Mira Mirth's On The Way To Greatness. Just...just trust me. Okay? :)
3. A long overdue tip of the hat to Sun-Tsu Toriden and Theodur, two incredibly prolific and skillful chaps who have been very kind to me since day one; please enjoy your brief cameos/mentions as dispensers of the demon booze. :-D
4. Speaking of the demon booze: Hey kids! Here's how you can make your OWN Yukon Torpedos for the holiDAZE:
Two parts peppermint schnapps
One part Yukon Jack
One part rectified spirit (I prefer Spirytus Stawski, but Everclear will do in a pinch)
Shake, and pour in shot glass.
Be careful with these things though. I've seen them knock veteran boozehounds on their asses. Seriously, do not have any other alcohol for at least half an hour after you do one of these shots.
And with that, have a great ChristmaHannuKwanzika, Saturnalia, Solstice, Feast of Sol Invictus, or what have you, and a Merry New Year!