It bothered Javik to have something in common with a machine, especially one that could think for itself. It bothered him so much that he found a corner to put his back to and stood apart from the bustle that filled these unpleasant underground spaces.
It is good not to be alone.
It was a machine, he told himself flatly, mimicking the appearance of life for the benefit of the organics with which it was interfacing. That was all. And apparently, his skepticism was needed more than ever because those few spoken words—it is good not to be alone—had shaken some of those who heard it.
The Normandy's crew, used to dealing with EDI, present through the disgusting ball of mistakes and stupidity that was Rannoch, was less affected. But those who didn't have those experiences? They were puzzled, perplexed, unhealthily curious.
Javik shrugged the concern he felt aside, along with the spark of agreement. It was better not to be alone, but if they didn't pull themselves together and start worrying about the real problems, it would be better to be alone so they didn't have to watch as many of their own side die. Personally, he could live without the inclusion of the geth armada, and had told Shepard as much.
Reapers reprogram entities all the time Javik. It's just that with organics we call it Indoctrination.
It had been one of their many short conversations, neither willing to budge an inch with regard to their point of view.
It also annoyed him how many people tried not to stare. He'd become accustomed to the Normandy's crew, who had had time to become accustomed to him. Now, he was surrounded by sapients who had never seen a Prothean before, who didn't even know he was a Prothean, and were all wondering—he could almost hear them thinking—'what's this sapient?'
He should get a shirt, thought sourly—the sourness helping put him back in the right frame of mind for the time and the place—a shirt that answered the top three questions he was usually asked, or which were usually in people's minds when the met him.
1) I am a Prothean.
2) Yes, a real live Prothean.
3) No, we did not build your mass relays.
Maybe he should make it the first five, he thought wearily.
He shook himself, then pushed out of his corner, prowling through these underground tunnels. From what he could piece together, they were part of an old conveyance network; he wasn't sure whether it had still been in use when the Reapers came, only that they served now as bunkers and trenches, fingers spread throughout the city called London.
He didn't like being underground in these small spaces. He didn't like the idea that the Reapers could collapse these spaces if they so wished. He wondered why they hadn't. The unanswered question walked cold fingers up and down his backbone.
Eventually, he found his way into the Anderson soldier's command hub.
"Meeting to plan the assault starts in eight minutes."
"Have the fleets begun arriving?" Javik asked.
Anderson nodded, expression grim. "They're taking a beating, but we knew that would happen."
"It is necessary."
"Yes," Anderson agreed, not happy but clearly philosophical.
Over the next eight minutes, members of Shepard's crew and Anderson's forces trickled in. Last to arrive were Shepard and Alenko, with a man in a stained white coat.
Those two seemed to exemplify 'it's good not to be alone' if anyone did.
"Alright," Anderson spoke briskly, cutting over the apparent reunion between Alenko and one of the other soldiers. "Do we have our Citadel asset?"
Tali nodded, fiddling with her omnitool. This time, there was a visual component to the uplink. "This is Horatio, my co-ambassador," she announced for anyone who didn't know.
"Charmed," the machine responded simply.
"The Fleets have already begun engaging the Reapers overhead," Anderson began. "Hackett's moving them in in waves to keep the Reapers on their toes. We're having about as much success as one could expect, which is probably more than the Reapers thought we'd have."
Grim smiles appeared around the room.
"The forces allocated for the ground war have started arriving, thanks to our biotic forces."
Jack nodded, arms crossed, as did a soldier Alenko seemed to know.
"Meanwhile, Hackett's going to start moving the Crucible once we have a plan for how we're going to wrest the Catalyst away from the Reapers' control. If we can't get control of the Citadel, the Crucible won't work, so there's no point bringing it."
"I take it they're loitering by a close relay?" Garrus asked.
"I think so. Hackett seemed confident the Crucible could arrive at the drop of a hat. And that's where Horatio is going to be invaluable," Anderson continued. "Horatio, perhaps you can explain the situation on your side for those who didn't get it earlier?"
Horatio recapped about the beam, its belief that the Reapers were in fact preparing bio-mass for another attempt at creating a Reaper for this Cycle, its belief that it was secure as long as it did not interfere with anything they were doing—and it's assurance that the Reapers had not yet begun sending death squads into the Wards.
Its affectation of concern for organic life was well-practiced. Certainly, some of the organics here were buying it.
"Horatio, geth hardware is just for facilitating interaction with organics," Tali said. "Can you load yourself into the Citadel, or interface with it somehow? Force the ward arms to open?"
Horatio considered. "It might be possible. Geth are primarily software, and software is capable of interfacing with other software. I will begin a feasibility analysis and apprise you when it has concluded."
Listen to it being so helpful. What a formidable traitor it would make.
Even as the habitual thought ran its course, he heard the small admission—it's good not to be alone—and wondered what the machine could gain by betraying them.