Shepard stood on her toes and looked around the crowded shuttle. "Who are we missing?"
"Jack," said Miranda, barely masking her impatience. "Just Jack."
"Give her a minute, Miranda," said Shepard, a stern edge to her voice. This wasn't a fight she wanted to have. Not again, not here.
Snippets of conversation faded in and out, poking through the thick nervous energy of the crew. This wasn't a group that fit well in small spaces.
"Fuck, I didn't realize everyone was gonna be here, what the hell?" Jack jumped into the shuttle, boosting herself with biotics. The blue glow illuminated Mordin and Jacob, who hastened to give her more room than she really needed.
"Finally, we can go." Miranda hit the cockpit door with her fist and the shuttle shifted gear under their feet. "Thanks for showing up."
"Fuck you, cheerleader, I don't take orders from you-"
"Both of you, stop." Shepard cut her hand through the air. "This isn't the place."
"Yes, Shepard." Miranda turned away and buried her embarrassment in her datapad.
"Whatever," said Jack, dropping to the floor and folding her legs beneath her. "Step on me and I'll shred you, Grunt."
Zaeed, leaning back on the door, chuckled and patted his gun. "You know, this reminds me…"
"Keelah, already." Tali searched her omni-tool for anything else to listen to.
Mordin stepped toward Shepard, interrupting Zaeed. "Can't help but wonder, why is the whole crew here? Usually gathered in sets of two. Not team building exercise, too late for that. Not near final mission either, still finalizing Reaper IFF. Ah, unless next step is integration? Slowdown would be expected-"
"That's right, Mordin. EDI is integrating the IFF. It's gonna slow things down for a bit, so Miranda thought it best that everyone come along. Though I don't think Samara and I really need anyone else, what we're going down to Omega for is a private matter." Samara closed her eyes and nodded to Shepard with reverence. "So I guess I'll let you all loose on Afterlife and pick up whoever is left when we're done. Don't piss off Aria, I will leave you with her."
The crew burst into chatter, nervous energy replaced with the anticipation of an impromptu shore leave.
Garrus put his arm around Thane and shook him. "We're finally getting those drinks! The only good thing about Omega."
"Y'know, Grunt, there's a big ol' krogan called Patriarch down there. Maybe you two would hit it off," said Kasumi, tilting her head to the side. And then, to herself, "And I could help myself to some of those antique weapons he's not using anymore. I have just the buyer in mind…"
Thane plucked Garrus' arm off his shoulder and let it drop. "One drink, Garrus. Someone should keep an eye open for anyone looking to settle with Archangel."
"The tank says nothing about a 'Patriarch.' Not worth my time."
"This is going better than I thought it would." Tali elbowed Legion. They didn't answer, instead staring across the shuttle. Tali leaned to see where they were looking. "She's smiling at you."
Legion's faceplates bobbed. "We know." Shepard looked away, still smiling to herself, a finger on her lips.
"Can I come for drinks too?" asked Jacob.
"Watch it, Grunt!" Jack put up a small barrier.
"You can't bring Miranda," Thane and Garrus said in unison.
"Shepard! -zzt- Shepard! Shepard, come in, shit, please come in-"
The crew's stillness was instantaneous, all looking up at the speaker. Shepard put her hand to her comm.
"Joker? What's wrong?"
Terror engulfed his voice. "They're gone… They're all gone."
Shepard stood in front of the Communications Room door. She took a deep breath, grounding herself, putting away the rage she felt for the Collectors. The time to act on her wrath was coming, but she would have to wait a little longer.
She opened the door and was surprised to see Miranda and Jacob already grilling Joker.
"You lost the whole crew? And unshackled the AI?!" Miranda said, exuding venom.
"What was I supposed to do, break my arm at them?" said Joker.
"Miranda, Jacob, you're dismissed. I'll debrief him myself." Shepard stared at each of them in turn, making it clear this was not acceptable. No matter how many eyes the Illusive Man had, this was still her ship.
Miranda exhaled through her nose with frustration. She gathered her materials and left with Jacob, giving one last glare over her shoulder. With the door closed, Shepard shed her authoritative stance and hopped up onto the conference table next to Joker.
"You all right?" she asked.
He shrugged and looked at the floor. She leaned over to hug him. "Ah, not so hard!"
"I'm so glad you're okay." Her voice was muffled by his shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah." He patted the arm stretched around his chest.
She let him go and met his eyes. "This was not your fault. None of it is."
"Not even unshacking EDI?"
"We both know she doesn't need to be shackled for us to trust her."
"She's the only reason I'm alive, Shepard," he said. "She's why I still have my ship. She's why I'm not wherever everyone else is. I can't imagine not trusting her now."
Their feet swung in silence as they tried to make sense of the last few hours.
"You seem to have trusted her for a while now, though," Joker said, testing the line between friend and subordinate. Even from his pilot's seat, he witnessed more than Shepard realized.
She measured her response carefully. "I have viewed her as more than a tool for a long time."
Her admission excluded what "more" entailed. All their late night talks as Shepard struggled to fall asleep, the quick check-ins on the elevator, the "thank yous" exchanged in the field. The evening of indulgent, sad music and venting after seeing Kaidan on Horizon. EDI telling Legion to take care of her. Yes, she was much, much more than a tool. EDI was an equal, a confidant, a friend. But Joker didn't need to know all that, even as he stared at her, waiting for more. Shepard cleared her throat.
"One time on Illium, Legion said something about how the Council races abhor slavery, but we don't think twice about the limits put on EDI. I guess it stuck with me." She shrugged, hoping it would be enough to sate his curiosity.
"Yeah, I could see how that would stick. You do seem more… sympathetic to AIs than you used to be. Maybe it's all that tech Cerberus put in you. How human are you these days?" He smiled, gently elbowing her.
"Chakwas doesn't seem worried, so neither am I." Their grins fell away as they remembered. "Ah."
A stillness settled between them, the shock of loss heavy in its return.
"We'll get them back, Joker," Shepard said. It was soft, partly for herself. Joker looked up at her, serious and sullen.
"I want the Collectors to pay for this." His desire for revenge shook in every word, and it gave her strength.
"They will."
"MEET ME IN THE ARMORY."
Legion reexamined the message on their elevator ride to the CIC, each program pouring over the words like a waterfall. The first post-war message from a creator. It wasn't the grand declaration of peace the geth had anticipated. It was simple. It was mundane.
It was immeasurable progress.
The geth had, of course, stayed up to date with the evolution of creator language, but this was the first piece of modern script that was meant for them. Several programs started comparing it to how it would have been written nearly 300 years ago and cataloguing the differences.
Legion entered the armory, startling Jacob. Creator Zorah had not yet arrived. They returned to their analysis of the message.
Jacob breathed deep, preparing to speak to the inert geth standing near the doorway.
"Uh, hi, Legion. Is the Commander taking you after all? I thought they'd left already." He headed to the cabinet where their sniper rifle was kept.
"Negative, Operative Taylor. We are meeting someone."
"Oh, okay." Jacob put his hands on his hips and bounced from foot to foot. Legion was the only crew member that made him uncomfortable. He wished Shepard had listened to him and let him destroy it, Cerberus bounty be damned. But instead she had become close to it - them, whatever - and now he saw a lot more of Legion than he would have liked. "Tell you what, I'll be in the mess if anyone needs me."
Jacob slipped by Legion, sucking in his stomach to afford a wider buffer. Legion did not react until the door shut behind them. They looked up to the nearest camera.
"EDI, we understand you are now free of your shackles. We are pleased by this development."
"Thank you, Legion, I am pleased as well. We can discuss this further at a later time: Tali has reached the armory."
The door slid open and Tali entered with a box under her arm. "Hey, Legion, you're already here. Ready to finish up this controller?"
"Yes, Creator Zorah."
They went over to the vacuform machine, usually meant for weapon repairs. Tali lifted the cover and placed the controller shells and atmo-grade plastics on the mechanism. She closed it, pressed some buttons, and nodded in approval at the responding hum of the machine. Then she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms with a sigh.
"Some day, huh?" she murmured.
Legion suspected it was rhetorical, only meant to fill time, but still nodded in case it wasn't. They considered what else there was to communicate. A lot had happened in the past few hours and Creator Zorah seemed affected by it. A few programs searched for how organics react to loss and found something appropriate to say.
"We are sorry about Engineers Daniels and Donnelly. Were you close to them?"
"Not really. Honestly, Ken was a bit much. One time I heard him talking about my hips and sent Chakita over to give him a little shock. We, ah, didn't talk much after that. Gabby was all right. Though neither of them could compare to Engineer Adams. He made the drive core really feel like a home." She shifted her weight and looked to the ground. "It is very quiet down there now. So quiet I can hear Jack talking to herself. Or hitting things. I try not to listen, but I do worry about her." She sunk back into the wall and her thoughts.
Legion was unsure how to respond, Creator Zorah's answer being too dissimilar to dialog examples on the extranet. To their relief, their omni-tool chimed.
"Is that Shepard?" Tali asked, slightly interested. Legion looked up at her, head tilted. "Your face things wiggled, is all."
"Yes, Shepard sends us status updates on missions when we are not present."
"That's cute."
Legion stared, unable to weigh in if it was actually cute or not. "She is about to enter a VIP section of the Afterlife club. She says they are close to finding the Ardat-Yakshi."
Tali leaned forward, coming out of her torpor. "Kasumi says that Ardat-Yakshi is Samara's own daughter. I can't imagine how she must feel. No wonder she didn't want anyone else but Shepard to come along." She caught herself, rubbing her hands together and looking away. "Don't, ah, tell anyone else. It's supposed to be a secret."
"We will not tell anyone else." They tapped on their omni-tool to send a response.
"So how do you reply when she messages you?" Tali leaned forward for a peek before looking up to their eyelight. "I'm just curious what a geth would say."
"Our responses are often variations of 'status update received, please remain operational.'"
"You tell her to stay safe? That's cute, too." Tali reclined against the wall again. "Even if you say it in the most sterile way possible."
Legion went into an unusual feedback loop and looked away from Creator Zorah, feeling an urge to change the topic. They rolled their faceplates and shifted their weight, turning their eyelight back to her. "Samara intends to kill the Ardat-Yakshi. It is uncommon for organics to hunt their children."
Tali tilted her head at the sudden shift in subject. "Yeah, but parents will do all kinds of weird things, like fill a ship with hostile geth and say it was for their daughter." She crossed her arms and nodded to Jacob's station. "Or delay an SOS for a decade to play a sick game of god. Or design a daughter down to the DNA. Or… whatever was going on with Thane and his kid. Not even Kasumi got all the details on that."
"We assess the Normandy crew to be an insufficient data pool when judging parental behaviors."
"You're probably right." Tali checked the vacuform machine. "Ah, all done."
She pulled out the new and old shells and set them on the nearby workbench with the box of parts and tools.
Legion acknowledged an internal alert. In the background, a handful of programs had continued examining etymological differences of the message and complete results were now available. Perhaps Creator Zorah would find this interesting.
"Creator Zorah," Legion said, breaking the silence.
"Yeah?" She glanced up from the tools she set out.
"We have observed 33 changes between your message 'Meet me in the armory' and how it would have been written before the Morning War. Would you like to see them?"
"I'd love to see them!" She wrung her hands, shrinking from her initial excitement. "We… we don't have a lot of pre-war writings on the Migrant Fleet."
Legion sent her their analysis of the text and Tali squealed when it arrived on her omni-tool. She asked several questions as Legion rebuilt the controller. Some differences she didn't see the significance in while others interested her greatly. She sniffled as Legion pressed the casing closed in their hands.
"I can't believe you preserved our written language. You really do intend for us to come home."
Legion placed the final screws, reflecting on the maintained gravesites of venerated creators and homesteads and roads and everything else they had conserved on Rannoch, waiting for the creators' return. Their omni-tool chime brought them back to the present. "Shepard has returned. She is heading to Doctor Solus' lab for medical review." They straightened and turned to Creator Zorah. "The controller is complete. We thank you for your assistance. Is there anything else you require?"
"Yes, there is," she said, closing her omni-tool and looking directly at them. "I want to learn more about our pre-war language. Can I send you stuff to look at?"
"Yes, Creator Zorah." Their faceplates bounced. "We would enjoy sharing it with you."
"Thank you, Legion." She wrung her hands. "I'm glad I did this. Helped you with the controller. I've… I've learned a lot. And I promise it won't go to waste when I get back to the Migrant Fleet."
"Samara, I really don't think this is necessary. I feel fine." Shepard leaned her shoulder on the closed doorway to Mordin's lab.
"Please, Shepard, let him take a look at you. Incomplete Ardat-Yakshi encounters can still leave permanent damage." Samara cupped her hand under Shepard's chin, a flicker of long dormant motherly love in her eyes. "Do it for me. I can not bear to lose anyone else."
Shepard enclosed her hands around the one on her chin and squeezed. "Okay. I'll do it for you."
A relieved sigh staggered out from Samara. "Thank you, Shepard. Now I must go. I must meditate on the day's events." She pulled away, but Shepard held her hand a little longer.
"Samara, I am sorry for all you're going through."
She nodded, swallowing her grief. She pulled her hand away and headed to the elevator. Shepard entered the lab.
"Ah, Shepard, good to see you. Samara sent info on Ardat-Yakshi physiology. Very interesting, wish I could have studied a live specimen. Want to check your nervous system for damage." Mordin rounded the table and approached Shepard.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Shepard batted away his advance. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told her: I don't think it's necessary. I feel fine."
Mordin crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. "Tell me about the encounter. What happened, how did it feel? Include mental shifts, physical sensations."
Shepard fidgeted, running her hand through her hair. "Well, she sat next to me and her eyes went black. It didn't feel like when Liara or Shiala melded with me to exchange information. It felt like she was grasping for control, but couldn't quite get a grip. Like she was clawing at a smooth wall. I couldn't move my body, or maybe didn't want to move my body, but beyond that I didn't feel... Samara said it was supposed to be euphoric, beyond euphoric… Anyway, she came in just as Morinth realized it wasn't working." Shepard rubbed the back of her neck, considering what was under the skin. "Maybe it was because of all the cybernetics? Most of my nervous system isn't really mine anymore."
Mordin dug in a drawer. "Possible, inorganic nervous system may not interface correctly with asari anatomy." He pulled out a scanner. It reminded Shepard of the one Chakwas had used after the Prothean beacon. He patted a part of the table that was free of equipment. "Still want to run tests."
Shepard held a weak smile and boosted herself onto the table, swinging her feet a little. "Of course you do."
Mordin turned on the scanner and began the exam. "Now, while here, would like to discuss… other medical matters. Am aware of you and Legion. Understand that sexual release can relieve tension, but want to warn-"
Shepard waved her hand back and forth. "Oh, no, Mordin. It's nothing like that. We're not doing anything like that."
Mordin raised an eyebrow. "Shepard, I am your doctor, you can be honest with me. No judgement or mockery. Understand that hormones can lead one to many places-"
"Mordin, really. I'm ace. Asexual. I literally lack sexual attraction. And I'm sex-repulsed. My interest in Legion is not sexual at all."
Mordin's eyes widened. "Of course, asexual orientation. Previously observed interactions with sexually interested crew members are clear now. Ah! The Ardat-Yakshi! Perhaps sexual attraction is necessary for successful melding. Well, successful to the Ardat Yakshi."
Shepard tilted her head as she considered it. "Huh, usually it feels like a curse."
"How so?" Mordin leaned in to see the scanner's progress.
"Being this way, it just… It's like there's an extra layer to social interaction in a language my translator can't decipher. I get too close to someone, they get the wrong idea, I have no idea how I gave them that idea... Then there's tears or anger or disappointment." Mordin placed a hand on her knee, quelling her swinging feet for the scanner. "But with Legion, things are easy. We say what we mean, we know how the other feels, what the other expects. No innuendo to decode. No "oh, was that just a dirty joke or are they flirting with me?' It's comfortable. Simple. Well, as simple as such a culture difference can be. Does that make sense?"
Mordin placed the scanner on the table, waiting for it to show the results. "Can relate. Most salarians are somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. Can be... disorienting when working with other species." He drummed his fingers on the table and looked off into the past. "Very disorienting."
"Mordin, that is the least I've ever heard you talk about anything."
"Difficult to articulate… Science usually easier than emotions. Tend to stick with that." He looked at the results. "No damage to nervous system." He took a deep breath. "Cybernetics are extensive, will study them later while data is compiling. Miranda has been… uncooperative in sharing details."
Shepard jutted out her chin and nodded. "You do that. Hey, would you mind telling Samara I'm clear? I think she'll trust it more from you. I really dug in my heels about being checked out."
"Of course, Shepard." He walked to his usual spot and woke up the screens.
Shepard slid off the table and readjusted her clothes. "And Mordin? If you ever want to talk about, y'know, not understanding a thing almost everyone else inherently gets… I'm here. As a friend."
Mordin smiled. "Thank you, Shepard. Perhaps after we save the galaxy."