It sometimes (shorthand: amazed) EDI, the way organics could compartmentalize what they felt in the face of necessity. Using the main cannon of the geth dreadnought to get to their goal didn't sound like a wise plan, although it was the only one they had. However, the organic crew put aside their feelings about running through the barrel of a giant gun that might (or might not) come back online at any moment.
EDI kept her pace steady. She could easily outrun most organics, but that wasn't the objective. She was the rearguard. She was strong enough to physically move any one of the crew and keep running if something went catastrophically wrong.
It (shorthand: warmed her heart) that Shepard trusted her with the crew's safety. Not just in keeping the gun offline long enough for everyone to sprint to the exit, but to cover the rear and make sure no one fell behind.
Up ahead, Vega pounded along, built more for strength than speed. Still, he kept a good clip, and when she warned of another pulse, he obediently dodged aside, rather than trying to make it to the next alcove.
The shot blasted past them, making EDI glad she didn't have hair like humans did. The charge from the shots would have surely done strange things to it.
She wasn't sure she could call the geth predictable, but they did seem to like things orderly and regimented. The shots came at precise intervals, as had the geth's attempts to flush her out of the system. She knew they would eventually succeed, if only because there were a lot of geth and only one of her.
It was something she might wish to discuss with Shepard: that Reapers, however powerful, were still single entities, whereas the geth could overwhelm another AI through sheer force of numbers, if that AI entity didn't have the sense to cut and run.
Not that she'd had to engage a Reaper flagship directly. But she remembered the smaller ship on Tuchanka, had done her best to investigate it without drawing its attention. Fortunately, being eaten by a thresher maw was sufficient distraction.
(Return adage: which would you rather have? One large enemy, or a hundred small ones?)
Yes, that was (subjective analysis) very apropos, (subjective analysis) very expressive.
EDI wondered how the organics were handling the pulses. Sometimes, (subjective analysis) she suspected being an AI was easier than being a human. She did not feel fear—although she did feel pressure from her self-preservation suite indicating how unsafe, how potentially lethal, her current situation was, or feeding her environmental and situational data outlining hazards that might not affect her, but which would surely affect her organic crewmates. Nor did she have to worry about overcoming adrenaline and other hormones dumping into her bloodstream.
"We are almost there," EDI announced to the panting Vega. "This will be the last segment to traverse."
He nodded, concentrating on breathing as he prepared to sprint forward again. Although all of the ground crew exercised regularly to maintain their (objective observation) excellent physical conditions, only a handful practiced sustained cardio. The focus on strength had begun to show itself in Vega's case.
EDI shot out a hand and grabbed his shoulder. Time was of the essence—they needed to avoid being trapped between geth reinforcements—currently following several false leads—and the barrel of this gun. She didn't need him tripping and falling, or taking a bad step because he misjudged something. Better to take a short break and let him catch his breath properly than take any risks.
And it occurred to her that this was another thing Shepard trusted her with: knowing when to wait and when to push.
"Wait for the next pulse. Shepard," she switched to the radio. "We have fallen a little behind schedule. We are fine, just a little behind."
Vega nodded his thanks, returning his focus to breathing.
Shepard's tone was thick with tension. "Alright. We're good, too. How are the guests?"
EDI checked her shipboard cameras. "Still in the war room. Given that Tali'Zorah is one of their own, I deemed it appropriate to give them access to the minutes, rather than the full audio log. I have translated the log for them for ease of reading."
"That's fine. Thank you."
The next pulse blasted by. Vega was ready, having regained his breath enough to safely continue forward.
They leapt back into the last length of the shaft, EDI carefully taking photographs as she ran. One never knew: the inner workings of a dreadnought's main gun might come in handy someday, for someone.
"Pulse!" EDI called.
Vega swung himself into an alcove, EDI following.
Still no sign that the geth realized why she had tried fiddling about with their main gun. They must still assume she only wanted to stop them from shooting at the quarians, never guessing that anyone would be crazy enough to use the main gun as a quick way to access other parts of the ship.
Such was the rationale of synthetics who didn't have much to do with the chaotic, unpredictable nature of organics. In this case, she didn't think that she was beginning to be able to predict them—or, at least, Shepard and her ground crew—it was simply a matter of not being surprised when the plan of action was something other than rational. Non-rational planning seemed to work for this group.
Vega turned sharply to the left, EDI following. The crew all seemed to relax, the feedback from various suit monitoring suites indicating a marginal reduction of stress levels, now that the whole team was back together again.
"Thanks, EDI. Good job," Shepard declared, clapping her on the shoulder.
One of those infrequent strange feedbacks purred suddenly through EDI's neural network, a positive feedback that lingered. "You're welcome, Shepard."
EDI wanted to thank Shepard for trusting her with one of the things that mattered, but she did not. Now wasn't the time.